DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters or ideas created that are used here that have been published and copyrighted, but in this story the ideas and any characters that are not cannon, and are not directly credited to another author, are my own and I make no money from this story.

A/N: I really hope anyone who starts and follows this story has read the introduction. It clears up a lot of where my ideas came from, and hopefully gives you a good grounding of a major aspect of the story.

Recommended Story: "Darkened Paths" by Paladeus

CHAPTER ONE: A PICTURE HOLDS A THOUSAND WORDS

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 2, Year: 19,959 A.D.; Location- Unknown

Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Live, The-Man-Who-Conquered, savior of the magical world of Britain, The Master of Death, and a plethora of other titles, sighed as he stared into the void of space. Even thinking about the many titles he had acquired over the years still made him nauseas. Granted, it wasn't like he had to worry about them being used any more. He was the only person aboard his ship after all since it had been years since he had even seen another human being, much less talked to one.

Granted, it also wasn't for what would be considered a lack of trying on his part. There just weren't any left. Out of all the titles he knew he had, the one that stung the most was "The Last Human in Existence." The earth had died out over 15,000 years ago due to what was done to it and what was left of the human race had been forced to flee the planet to the vastness of space before the planet's core went ballistic and detonated. After that, it was just a matter of time before humans slowly began to die out as they became wanderer's searching for a new home world.

That simple fact made him sigh again as it crossed his mind, try as he might to blank any thoughts what so ever from crossing his mind. Slowly he took a sip from a glass in his right hand. The amber liquid of a Brandy burning his throat it made its way down to his stomach.

As he let the burning sensation and following warmth spread throughout his body for a brief moment, he set the glass aside and looked around his ship briefly before staring back out into space. It wasn't like there was much going on since he was alone.

He was sitting in what most would call a cockpit, or captain's seat. It was simple enough, kind of like a cross between an old barber shop seat and a desk chair. Granted, the connectors and markings along the dull gray metal that made up the back and sides of the seat that connected to various parts of this space kind of pointed it out as not being just a spot to sit.

To the right of the seat were two consuls made of the same dull gray metal that the seat was, and also connected to it. One showed the status of the ship overall, with various diagrams of sections from the outside, and the other was about the interior and the engines. Both of the consuls' connection to the seat and transmitted to a small screen on the right armrest.

The left side had a single consul, though similar, showed the status of the food stores and the status of various computer functions of the ship, namely any maintenance that was happening, if there was any, on a list to be done, or if Harry needed to see to the repair himself. Directly in front of Harry however was a small consul that was radar and showed a space of roughly 400 kilometers in any direction around his ship.

Above all of these was a 180 degree panel that showed the space outside in clear detail. The only thing he could see, if he focused that is, at that time were the twinkling stars off in the distance.

Harry stayed like that, sipping the glass of Brandy every now and then, sighing at random points whenever a thought crossed his mind as he slowly drifted farther in space. It was when he tried to take another sip of Brandy and realized the glass was empty that he stared at it briefly, sighing again for the uncountable time, before standing and turning to walk to the rear of his ship and the thoughts he had been trying to keep away, or at least blur with the strong drink, came back full force.

"How did everything come to this?" he thought to himself rhetorically as the door several feet behind his captain's seat opened for him.

It wasn't like he didn't know how, and it wasn't like he didn't understand the why either. Those things where the first answers he had sought out, and they didn't take nearly as long to find as some of the answers he needed for questions that came later.

Simply remembering those questions made him flinch involuntarily as he set his glass down on a table after having stepped through the door. This was only one of four "rooms" on the ship after all.

It wasn't like the size or look of the ship really mattered anyways. Outside it looked like it was a slightly modified version of the old Concord. The modifications being that is was half as long, probably double the width, and there was an addition of four 'engines' under the wings (two on each side). It was about a third shorter than the original airline had been since it was only transporting him, and the width had been doubled for some of the extra interior space. The entire ship was made of the same dull gray metal that the interior was.

Also, though not noticeable unless you were up close and had a magnifying glass, the entire ship was covered in runes. They were what powered the ship, all of its defenses, and was the 'fuel' for the engines. It was also what kept the 'roar' of the engines down to a dull hum as they weren't being used fully. It was also why on the inside the ship there was so few places. Because of the runes and the metal, the space inside could be altered magically. It wasn't like it was done a lot anyways with how sparse Harry kept everything.

The first room and front of the ship was what many would call the Bridge, since it was where he controlled and navigated the ship. The one he was in was a mixture of things. To the left of the door was his bed, simple with enough room for just him that was ten feet long and five feet wide. He didn't need it that large, but the mattress itself was naturally that size and he never really found a need or desire to alter it with magic. Outside of repairing it every now and then that is…

To the right of the door was first his closet, which was magically expanded to hold his clothes, however small in number they were now, and the two 'suits' he used if he ever needed them. One was for working on the outside of the ship while it was in space, and the other was for random planets he came across where the atmosphere wasn't livable without it. The expansion was arguably just for those since the clothes barely took up any space at all, even with the three pairs of boots he wore. Placed just after the closet was a simple 3 feet across and wide table, and stood only three feet high with simple chair pushed under it. It was on this table in where he placed his empty glass. Right after the table was the 'door' to what would be the third room. This was his bathroom that held his shower, toilet, and sink. To the left of this door, which made it directly across from the door to enter the Bridge, was the door that led to where the engines where, and an isolated box that was where his food stores were stashed and kept under stasis.

Following his bed and opposite the door was a simple dresser made of that same dull gray metal with four drawers, and just like the closet, each drawer was expanded. In each drawer was a plethora of things he had acquired and collected over the years. Those in the bottom drawer where various things he didn't think about that often, just items that had caught his eye and he had picked up for one reason or another at the time. The second to last drawer had what he had been given as gifts. These didn't mean much to him in some regards, as all of these had been given to him by various cultures from the planets he had visited. Nothing in this drawer was from Earth though as the second from the top held all of his collections of gifts and knick knacks he had collected from the last vestiges of the Human Race. He considered that his third most prized section.

The top drawer however, held everything he had in relation to his friends and family before the world went to shit. That was a time he'd rather not think about, as every time he did, it made him angry and even more depressed than he had become. Everything in that drawer was his second most coveted and prized possessions.

What he considered to be his absolutely most coveted and prized things though were what was on top of the dresser. These were pictures, some plane and what was once called 'mundane,' 'non-magical,' or 'muggle' ones, the rest, all magical. They were of his friends and family, his loved ones, the people who had died so long ago, the ones he wanted to be with again so badly his chest hurt every time he looked at them.

On the far left were three pictures, two were magical and each of those sat on either side of one that was muggle. The first magical one was a picture he had been given in his youth by his friend Hagrid, the gentle half giant. It was of his parents James and Lily, twirling and laughing in each others' arms. They would stop every now and then and both wave one hand up to him, the other arm still keeping their bodies entwined, before going back to twirling and laughing.

The second magical picture was one that had taken him years to find. It was of his paternal Grandfather and Grandmother, Charlus Potter and Dorea Potter nee Black. They were in a similar state as the picture his father and mother where in, though instead of laughing as James and Lily were, they had simple smiles on their faces. That and it was obvious they were much older than his parents where in their picture. He had chuckled when he first saw the picture as he now understood exactly where his father had inherited his looks.

Charlus was an average height for a Potter, a couple inches under six feet tall, but had the unruly black hair that Harry had come to recognize on every picture he had seen of his father, and also every time he looked in the mirror. He had a warm smile that was literally oozed charisma that he had seen on some memories of his dad as well as the same brown eyes. It was Dorea though that had made him laugh the most. While he remembered his dad being tall, even taller than his Grandfather from what he remembered being told, his Grandmother towered over them both at a good seven feet four inches tall.

On top of that, she had a voluptuous full figure that would make most men drool. Her eyes were of a dark gray, a trait common amongst the Blacks, but for her, it was mostly due to her heritage. That being she was a sixth generation child descended from a Giant. That was through her mother's side of the family who was once a Bulstrode. Adding into that was the grin that just screamed mischief and he wasn't disappointed as every now and then when Dorea and Charlus stopped to wave, the arm that stayed wrapped around Charlus' shoulders would move a bit to give him bunny ears. Whenever this happened, Charlus' picture would role his eyes, but his grin got bigger before they went back to twirling together.

The final picture though always made Harry choke up a little. It, like the picture of his grandparents was of an older couple, but these two had nothing to do with relations by blood. They were of Robert and Rose Granger, the only two non-magical people he knew better than most, and arguably his surrogate mother and father. The last part hadn't come about for quite some time, but it did in time, though not under good circumstances. Their passing had been amongst the hardest for him to deal with, topped only by a select few.

Those thoughts forced Harry to tear his gazes away from those three pictures to the ones that aligned the right side and the back of the top part of the dresser. These were of all of the people he considered friends as well as his family. Some pictures were from his Hogwarts years, and the rest were from after the war. Granted there were a couple with rips in them where a section was missing, but he tried not to think about that. Those rips were intentional. They removed a piece of that time that he did not want to remember, or rather scorned and hated.

At the very front though were the two pictures that always made the pain in his chest hurt the most. His eyes came to the one on the right first. It was of him and Hermione and had been taken maybe three or four years after the war had been concluded. It was after he had completed both his field and academic training to become an Auror, but also his best friend's birthday.

He had surprised her after he had been discharged that day as she, while still going through the field training when she could, was working at that time on her legislature to help House Elves. She had finished the legalese of it earlier in the month and it was scheduled to be taken before the Wizengamot at the start of October. The only thing she was working on with it now was getting support to put it through, and her main backer on it was Harry, as he had a better support base since he killed Voldemort.

She had been excited when he had come to her flat at the time dressed semi-casually, and all but abducted her for the day out to see a show and treat her to lunch. It had been during the walk to lunch that they had the picture taken at Hyde Park. It was a kind of impulsive thing at the time, but they had been talking and joking about their following their respective careers as they passed a section of the park walkway that was along the pond. They both stopped along the railing to stare out over the water when an older gentleman started to pass them.

Having brought a camera with him, Harry had asked the gentlemen to take a picture of him and Hermione, catching her off guard though she had a smile on her face when even as she had hit him in the arm briefly for stopping what they had been talking about. It was just before the old man had taken the picture that Harry had surprised her again by picking her up bridal style and made a joking move as if he was about to throw her over the rail. She had shrieked at first, but when it was it clear he wasn't about to throw her over, as he still had a firm hold on her, and simply just span about once with her in his arms before setting her back down, she was laughing while beating his chest. Once on the ground she did make sure to give him a good smack upside the head.

The old man had chuckled at the display, not really knowing that the camera he had taken the picture with, since it looked like a muggle one, had actually captured the entire small event. He simply handed the camera back to Harry and walked off muttering under his breath slightly with a smile on his face. Hermione hadn't heard his muttering but Harry had. It had given him pause then as all he had heard was, "Silly young couples in love."

His pausing had come because he couldn't really refute the statement, but at that time he was engaged to Ginny Weasley and Hermione was engaged to Ron Weasley. He didn't know the full implications of the statement then, but that was when he had started to work out a major problem in his life that wouldn't be answered till much later.

In fact, it wouldn't be until September 2, 2017. It was that date that had brought the world down around him; the day that had caused him so much pain; the day that for had started a long and dark time for him. It was why he was drinking on this day, so many, many years after that day, to try and keep the memories of that day away, and to dull the pain that even now, as he no longer could hold back the memories, caused him an ungodly amount of agony and grief.

SEPTEMBER 2, 2017, The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole

Harry Potter was smiling as he walked down the long dirt road to The Burrow. He had just got off work for the day early right after lunch. It wasn't like he was fully needed in the office at the moment anyways. Being Head Auror had its perks after all. Not to mention the 'other' job he had that no one knew about as Executive Officer of the Unspeakables. He had been approached to be an Unspeakable about a year after he had killed Voldemort to be part of their combat and research arm. He had worked hard at It, especially as a research and tester for understanding all the nuances of magic. It all but forced him to start learning about the subjects he hadn't known of before, namely Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, but he found he rather enjoyed the subjects and ultimately what they could be used for.

After nearly twenty years, the only one who was above him was his boss, and that was only by virtue of the old bastard having been there for a damn long time. Not that Harry cared really, especially as being the head of a department in any shape meant horrendous amounts of paper work .Even if he was younger, stronger, and magically more powerful than the old codger, no sane person wanted double the amount of paperwork they had to deal with.

But all that paperwork in both jobs had been filled, or designated to people lower in the pecking order to finish as was the case with about half of the paperwork from his Head Auror position. He had flooed ahead to The Burrow since his wife Ginny was meeting with her mum and brother for lunch. Not to mention Hermione would be there as well as she and Ron had taken the first couple days of September off as usual. Their youngest kids were also at primary school, so it was just the adults.

He enjoyed meeting with his friends on days like this. Days with little paperwork and time to just sit around and talk for long stretches of time. Granted, those days had been few and far between as of the past fifteen years. That thought made his good mood dim a little. It brought up the thought that the only time he ever had times like this; it was always at The Burrow, and always him, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and Molly. Arthur would always be out at his office in the ministry, George would be stuck at the shop with Angelina, Bill and Fleur stuck at Gringots or off doing something for them, Charlie still over in Romania with his dragons, their kids off at school, and any of their other friends always busy with work or some such. That part always bothered him as it made him suspicious, but the feeling usually didn't last.

His thoughts about his busy friends and family however where brought to a very sudden and abrupt halt as he heard a very familiar indignant shriek from his best friend came from inside the kitchen as he was no further than a step inside the door.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THE MEANING OF THIS? THESE ARE LOVE AND LOYALTY POTIONS YOU WERE TRYING TO PUT IN MY DRINK!"

"What the hell, who would be putting those in her drinks?" Harry thought as he silently moved to look into the kitchen. What he saw made him pause in shock and confusion.

Standing at one end of the table was his best friend Hermion Weasley nee Granger, arms at her side, her entire body shaking with a look of absolute fury etched on her face. This was the part that had shocked him as he hadn't seen this much expression on her face in some time. Usually it was either a slightly glazed look of confusion or thought, or a distant, indifferent look as she was busy with work. The former was the one she usually wore at these rare meetings as well at the start of each month whenever he saw her at the ministry. Her brown hair, which was normally in a pony tail as of late, especially on off days and since it had been tamed somewhat from its former bushiness, was back to being bushy and frizzy as he could feel a slight charge around her reacting to her magic. Not many people could detect the slight charge as most witches and wizards didn't understand how to feel out the subtle ebb and flow of magic around them outside of some powerful spells, like that of the Patrouns Charm. Granted, most witches and wizards hadn't spent the better part of nearly two decades studying magic.

At the other end of the table, and this was the part that confused him. He saw his wife and best mate sitting down both with looks on their faces he had never seen before. Ron had his arms placed on the table, hands entwined with a vicious smirk on his face. Ginny had her arms crossed over her chest with a disgusted sneer on her face. He minutely noted that he could see her wand poking out behind her from underneath her right armpit. Both had their eyes glued to the angry Hermione.

Adding to the confusion was the sight of Molly Weasley standing slightly behind both of her two youngest children with a slightly indignant look on her face, but the indignant part was small in comparison to the sneer that was on her face that Harry had seen on very few peoples face prior. Draco's during his Hogwarts years for sure. Lucius' face almost perpetually, same for Voldemort and Snape. She also had several vials in her hands, all of which looked full about half full currently.

"I'm surprised you even noticed them being put in your drink at all after all this time. I mean it's been about twenty two years now for the loyalty potion, and almost twenty for the love one," the voice of his wife said with venom, causing Harry to blink in confusion. He didn't remember Ginny every having that much venom in her voice, well with the exception of the start of his Sixth year where she would constantly put down Fleur and call her Phlegm.

The look of furious outrage mixed with shock on Hermione's face at that. Harry took all the expressions across her face in with a slight sense of joy. He liked the expressive Hermione… a lot!

"You've been using potions on me for years? Why the bloody hell for? What gave you the right to do that to me?" Hermione screamed with a tremble in her voice. Harry could easily see tears starting to develop in her eyes that burned with passion and clarity he couldn't remember having seen in a very long time.

"It should be obvious to you by now Herms," Ron said, his voice having just as much venom as he mentioned Hermione's hated nickname and with a sickening glee to it that made Harry's mouth drop open in shock as his head snapped to stare at his 'friend.' It was way too similar to how most purebloods said mudblood.

"You were getting too close to Harry after that fool of a Black died in the Ministry. He started to focus too much on the advice you were giving him on learning more so he would be better prepared against You-Know-Who instead of what Dumbledore had already laid out for him to do. Not to mention he didn't want any possible way for the contract he had setup between Ginny and Harry to be married found and voided until the war was over. He also set up a contract between you and me that summer, but left the date for when it should be fulfilled open so it could be altered after he learned he wouldn't survive the year. After all, he couldn't have someone like you pointing out so many of the problems with how our world works to someone like Harry, especially when he learned that he had several Lordships to his name. And he sure as hell didn't want a simple muggle born like you influencing him with the power those titles bear. Besides you think you're alone in being doused in potions? Harry's been getting the exact same potions and then for quite some time, though the love potions keyed to Ginny and the loyalty potions keyed to me and Dumbledore had to be increased to almost lethal levels to get him away from you."

That made Harry's thought process screech to a halt. He had been ingesting love and loyalty potions for years and he didn't even realize it? A loyalty potion keyed to Albus Dumbledore and Ronald Weasley? And his marriage to Ginny had been a setup to keep him away from his lordships and Hermione? Wait, Lordships? He actually had a title to his name, and more than one at that? What the hell?

The next words brought his attention back to what was happening. Idly in the back of his thoughts a voice wondered why he wasn't reacting to what was going on. He felt he should be speaking out or something at the very least.

"You… you told me you had that contract made up after you proposed to me! You said you told my parents it was part of wizarding tradition! You said you got my father's blessing and everything! It even had your father's signature and I know Arthur wouldn't do this to us! Why… How could you do this to me? HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO HARRY?" Hermione demanded, though her voice was quavering as tears started to streak down her face.

"So like Hermione, always looking out for me," that small voice in the back of his head said, though now it was louder. With it came a slight burning in his chest that he hadn't felt since his fifth year. It had been so long that he couldn't identify exactly what it meant.

"Oh your right about Arthur signing that contract and him not agreeing to use potions on you dear," Molly snorted with disgust, "While I love him to death, he lacks a certain mindset to do what is necessary for our world. Albus had to put him under the Imperious to get him to sign those contracts. How do you think he got your father to sign it as well? It was odd that a muggle would be able to resist every sort of compulsion charm to get him to sign but the Imperious Curse. Ginny dear, why don't you show you tell Hermione here how you really feel before Harry gets here."

"Of course mother," Ginny said with a sickeningly sweet voice that sent all of Harry's warning bells off, and all the training he had done as an Unspeakable and as an Auror came barreling through his thoughts to save a life.

The next couple of seconds were burned into his mind forever though as he had reacted too slow. He would watch in horror as Ginny whipped her wand out from under her armpit and pointed it at Hermione. His best friend had seen the move and had moved to draw her own wand from its holster on her forearm as he heard the two dreaded words screeched from his wife like a banshee.

"AVADA KEDAVARA!"

That sick, twisted, evil green light that had haunted his dreams for years in youth without knowing that it was called the 'Killing Curse' until his fourth year at Hogwarts erupted from Ginny's wand. That horrendous, unforgivable curse that murdered his parents, murdered a classmate, murdered hundreds if not thousands of people rocketed through the air towards his best friend.

Without thought he had lifted his hand towards his best friend, open palmed at first. It extended and then he closed his fingers as if gripping a rope and pulled, hard, as if pulling said rope with only one thought on his mind. Get Hermione out of the way of that curse!

He watched as Hermione's body was yanked towards him, reacting to his silent plea as his magic pulled her.

But he was too slow.

The curse struck her in the upper right portion of her chest as her body sailed through the air towards him. By the time she had reached him, not even a second from when he had pulled his hand back in a desperate attempt to save her, she was already dead.

He grunted slightly from the impact of her body but immediately fell to his knees as he cradled her in his arms and stared at her eyes, wide in shock and horror. Those beautiful, chocolate brown eyes that had started to show more emotion than he remembered were now staring back into his, lifeless, soulless, dead.

"Hermione… No!"

Odd, he didn't recognize his own voice for a second. It was mixed with a gut wrenching sob that ran rampant through his body as tears started to burn behind his eyes. But with that gut wrenching feeling that was making him shake, that burning sensation he had felt in his chest earlier was like an inferno.

Of course, now he remembered what it was.

It had two parts and feelings to it. One had taken him years to identify for what it was, and it was simple once he understood what the emotion was.

Love; plain; pure; simple.

The other he knew quite well, and that was rage. In all its spectacular and disastrous glory, he could feel the rage burning through his system and he could feel his magic reacting to said rage.

He came to understand parts of both rage and love during his fifth year. The former he wouldn't understand fully until his godfather had been ripped away from him and his headmaster had suddenly dumped a prophecy on him on top of everything else that had happened that night. That wonderful bit of news led to his first bout of absolute fury and resulted in the destruction of over half of the headmasters office.

He had also started to understand love, at least in part, by how worried he had been about Hermione. At the time he couldn't tell exactly what type of love it was, but he knew that whatever type it was, he couldn't stand the thought of losing her. Later, he had thought it was platonic in nature, and he had found romantic kind of love in his wife Ginny. That those had apparently been a potion induced lie and he had swapped the types of love he had for the two only fueled his rage more. Now though, he could label his feelings for the wonderful creature in his arms properly, and that old man's comment from so long ago came back to him, finally making sense.

Gently he reached his hand up and closed Hermione's eyes before leaning in and kissed her rapidly cooling forehead gently.

"I'm so sorry I didn't see this sooner," he thought sadly as he removed his lips then laid her body down on the floor. Once she was there he stood slowly, never taking his eyes off her until he stood.

When he was finally standing fully, his sad and soft expression hardened instantly as his head snapped to stare at the three still in the kitchen. All three had followed Hermione's body in mild confusion as they wondered how her body had moved so fast and unnaturally. Ron and Molly had even both gone for their wands as she moved.

When they saw Harry catch the now dead Hermione though, all mental functions ceased. They watched silently as he closed her eyes, kissed her, laid her down, and then finally stood. It was when he turned his gaze on them that their brains started to kick in.

Harry was angry. Harry Potter, the man who had stood toe to toe with arguably the greatest Dark Lord in history, and had not only taunted the man, but had beat him, was angry. Harry Potter, Head of the Aurors, the only wizard that made criminals run on principle alone when he showed up at a crime scene, was angry and all that anger was being directed at them.

"H-Harry! Mate! When did you get here?" Ron asked, his voice squeaking as he tried to stare Harry in the eyes. Granted that was a little hard at the moment as he couldn't remember ever seeing Harry this mad before.

No, mad and angry were not good quantifiers for his expression. A controlled cataclysm of fury might have been better, but Ron was neither bright, nor understood some of the more 'muggle' terms. Not to mention his question seemed to infuriate the glasses wearing man even more as his eyes seemed to both darken and glow at the same time.

"You know, I would answer that question, but I think you already know the answer to that don't you Weasley?," Harry said, his voice dripping with malice and contempt.

The rage he felt burning in his chest at the sight of this… this THING that he had called a friend for over twenty years.

"Harry, love, it's not what it looks like," his wife tried to plead with him. Her own voice was shaking in terror at the sight of Harry.

His gaze snapped to hers and she felt her heart nearly leap out of her chest and run in fear. Those killing curse green eyes were now quite literally smoking. They had darkened and reflected that same horrible green but now his entire eye was a glow and smoking as magic seemed to be pooling and escaping from them.

"Is that so Ginny? How then would you like to explain why I find my best friend, dead at my feet, by the hands of the woman I supposedly love? Would you care to explain that to me? Can you explain to me why I find myself standing above the only thing that kept me from becoming the next Dark Lord? Can you explain to me the reason why you took away from me the only thing that kept me from saying 'fuck it' to the wizarding world and let it burn to the ground?"

Ginny couldn't think of any answer as during his rather rhetorical questions, he had also suddenly summoned all three of their wands. Well four since apparently Ron had another in a holster on his non-main wand arm and it had gone flying into Harry's hands. Granted, it was the holster, the wand still inside it, and part of Ron's now ripped shirt.

She couldn't think of anything as she watched in morbid fascination as he casually held all four wands between his two hands, his own wand nowhere to be seen, and quite literally set them ablaze right there in his open palms. The wood and cores inside burnt to ash in seconds before the fire simply blinked out and Harry brushed the ash from his hands, away from Hermione's body, and never turning his gaze from Ginny.

"Harry, dear, you have to understand. It was for your own good. Albus wanted what was best for you!" Molly's voice finally entered her own two cents. She didn't realize as she spoke she was adding more fuel to a firestorm.

"I see," Harry said coldly as his gaze shifted to the older woman.

He had never fully considered this woman as a mother. She was too overbearing, too smothering, and just too damn forceful to anyone who disagreed with her view of the world. That apparently also condoned her use of potions to control people.

"Well, seeing as how you supposedly think I couldn't figure out what was good for me on my own, and manipulated my life to follow some fucked up plan set out by an old fuck, I guess I'll have to take out a page of said man's views. You said he had plans for my life based on his Greater Good and he used you to make me follow that path?"

At their nods, he wondered if they idly if they even knew what they were admitting to.

"Alright then, I'll make this simple and make you follow a path I place before you. I, Harry James Potter, by right of conquest in defeating the dark wizard born Tom Marvolo Riddle, alias known as Lord Voldemort, due herby claim all Life Debts owed to me by Molly Weasley nee Prewett, Ronald Billius Weasley, and Ginerva Molly Potter nee Weasley," Harry started and watched with a malicious grin as all three red heads suddenly paled, "By defeating the self proclaimed Dark Lord, and by removing the last piece of his soul, I claim, with magic as my justice, the lives and magic of Molly Weasley nee Prewett, Ronald Billius Weasley, and Ginerva Molly Potter nee Weasley to do as I command in repayment. Repayment for these Life Debts shall be considered fulfilled by me with the following: First, upon written and full confessions of every crime they have committed on their own or acted as an accomplice against Harry James Potter, Hermione Jane Weasley nee Granger, and anyone else in the the wizarding world at large; second, they shall make a copy of said confession, giving me the originals; third, they will then take the copies to the Ministry of Magic atrium and once there they shall gain the attention of everyone at the ministry, specifically that of the Minister and the head of the DMLE; fourth, they will renounce all vows of marriage via magic, declare all their crimes publicly though separately; and finally, they shall take their own lives with the Killing Curse, powered with every ounce of magic they have in their bodies. Only when these steps have been completed will I accept their repayment fulfilled. So I have spoken and request that magic be justice, SO MOTE IT BE!"

Harry had started in a controlled tone at first when calling in the debt, but as he kept going, his tone became harsher and his voice started to get louder and louder. The last four though were where Harry lost control on his anger, and in hindsight, a good portion of his magic as well. He had felt something snap with the rage burning inside of him and it felt like his body was being drowned in rapidly growing pressure throughout his body. He figured much later, on top of the power he was focusing into the oath, his magic was purging every bit of foreign magic attached to his system, starting with those from the potions he had been apparently taking.

On those last four words though, he felt his magic flare out him like a fire. He could feel it as it charged the air and blanketed The Burrow in a fog like feeling of magic. Idly he wondered if the three before him could feel the pulse his magic had as it took to his request.

It didn't take long to figure out magic had accepted and forced the three to do exactly as had said. The three had gasped upon his final wording and had been compelled to follow through with the orders. The sheer amount of things they had to write down made Harry feel sick, and when any of them had started to try and get him to renounce the calling in, he simply stared at them, not knowing his eyes were still smoking, until they went silent.

It had taken nearly three hours, and was just after two o'clock when they were done and had duplicated the capacious amount of paper they had filled out with their crimes. Ginny and Molly had silent tears in their eyes as they mentally tried to plead with Harry, but he didn't care. Ron looked apoplectic, as his face was bright red and scowling, but he didn't say anything.

"This is where the plan of an apparently deranged old man led you. I hope you are happy with the results," Harry said coldly as the three handed over the originals to him, and he handed them back their wands, before walking to the floor and going to the Ministry.

Once the last of them had left, the rage diminished like a candle blown out in the wind. It was still there, burning in his chest, but it didn't have as drastic a control on him as it did a second ago. Now though that burning was overwhelmed by the wrenching feeling again as he turned to Hermione. He had already shrunk and pocketed the documents in his inner coat pocket. It was where he kept all of the evidence he acquired on a crime scene and didn't want anyone else messing with before him.

Sobs wracked his body as he walked over to her now cold body. He had put it under a stasis charm right after the others had started to repay their debt so as to keep the body from going through the stages of rigor mortis and becoming stiff and hard to move. With great care he picked her up and walked out of the house and down the lane. He was very tempted to burn The Burrow to the ground at that point, but knew that it wouldn't do a damn bit of good at this point. It wasn't like he would never set foot in that place again.

At the end of the lane, he apparated silently with Hermione cradled against him to the doorstep of her parents house in Crawley. He had been here a lot right up until she had married Ron. After that they had seemed to become somewhat distant to him, though still friendly. Looking back on it now, he wondered if they thought that with how much time he spent with Hermione and them, that they thought he would be the one to marry their daughter instead of Ron. The red head had met them enough times to count on one hand with fingers to spare, and that included the wedding.

He pushed the doorbell slightly awkwardly with his cargo and he heard it ring several times briefly. He waited a couple of minutes before ringing the bell a second time. During those few minutes it had started to rain, something he hadn't even noticed about the sudden change in whether as he waited. It was on the third ring, a total of about 8 minutes before someone answered the door. It was a slightly confused Rose Granger that had answered in a bathrobe and a tower wrapped around damp hair.

"Harry?" she asked before taking notice of the weather, his soaked clothes, his sad expression, and then finally what he was carrying in his arms.

"Oh my god, Hermione! Harry is she alright?"

"N-No," Harry's voice had croaked, "C-Can I come in?"

His use of addressing himself and saying Hermione wasn't okay made Rose's heart skip a beat before ushering the soaked and what she thought was an asleep Hermione into her home. It would take nearly half an hour after Harry had walked into the living room and tenderly lay Hermione on the couch, before breaking down into sobs and hugging her body and apologizing over and over again, before Rose would finally get her answer to what was wrong with Hermione.

The statement that her only child was dead, murdered no less by the woman who was Harry's wife set Rose backpedalling and falling into a recliner grasping her chest. The following story of how it came to be, the story behind how Hermione's marriage to Ron and his to Ginny had been setup, how they had been doused with potions again and again on varying levels for over two decades, and the following calling in of the life debts and what that entailed left Rose as much a sobbing mess as Harry was.

It was nearly six o'clock when Robert Granger came home to find his wife sobbing on her knees cradling an equally sobbing Harry Potter's head to her chest next to the body of his daughter. He took this in instantly and figured out something very wrong had happened and it took him a while to get his answer from the two still living adults. He had his own tears in his eyes by the end of finding out what had happened, but his face was also murderous, and if he hadn't already known that by now the three responsible for him having to bury his daughter before he himself died were more than likely already dead, or would be soon killing themselves, he would hunt them down and no one would ever find the bodies.

Even now, after so many years, Harry figured his knee jerk reaction was justified as that burning rage still flickered in his chest at the memory. Granted it was like a candle flame now compared to the firestorm he felt then. That was expected considering how long he had lived.

That part of the day though had another event in it that led to where he was now. Well, not entirely. He never did really figure out exactly why he lived for so damn long. He had an idea thanks to a lovely, wonderful, insightful, and slightly eclectic blond, but he still hadn't been able to figure out how to do what she had suggested.

Thinking of said blond brought his attention to the last picture. This one caused him no less grief than the one of him spinning with Hermione in his arms by the lake. It was a picture of the last magicals on the entire face of the Earth, long before the planet blew up. The group was miniscule in comparison to what the magical world had become by the day of Hermione's murder. Well at least as far as Britain was concerned. By then, the magical population was roughly over 150,000 in Britain. He didn't remember the exact number, even then, as it didn't seem important at the time. And by only knowing the rough estimate, he never did figure out how many lives had been lost.

The picture itself was simple. It was similar to the one Mad-Eye Moody had shown him of the original Order of the Phoenix. Harry snorted briefly at the thought. The original order had died out long before the picture Moody had shown him was taken, but the paranoid Auror probably didn't think about how he had worded that statement then. The major difference between that picture and the one Harry was now starring at were the emotions of the people, their clothes, and their ages.

Whereas in the one Moody had shown, the people looked happy if a bit tired and war weary. The couples had hopefully smiles and the single individuals had ones of determination. Their clothes reflected the time in which they lived (that being the late seventies) and each had their own particular outfits and what not that they wore.

The one he was staring at now had no smiles of any kind what so ever. Each and every person had grim expressions on their faces and you could easily tell they were all resigned. On top of that were their clothes, while not quite what would be considered a military uniform, it was probably the closest thing to it for them. The outfits were simple black button up shirts, black cargo pants, and black shoes. These were all they wore outside of maybe a couple pieces of jewelry. The jewelry consisted only of signet rings, wedding bands, and watches. The watches were all the same though, nothing fancy, and worn by everyone. The final part was no one in this picture, with the exception of Harry, looked younger than in their eighties.

In the picture the people where set up in two rows with those in the front row all sitting, and those in the back row standing. The front row consisted of all women and going from left to right went: Angelina Weasley nee Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, Fleur Weasley nee Delacour, Su Li, Astoria Malfoy nee Greengrass, Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, Hannah Longbottom nee Abbott, Pansy Parkinson, Minerva McGonagall, Katie Bell, Susan Bones, Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis, Padma Patil, Luna Scamander nee Lovegood, Cho Chang, and Narcissa Malfoy nee Black. Of these sitting women, two were in wheelchairs, and those where Minerva and Pansy. The reason they were sitting in those instead of chairs were for the same reason. Minerva was missing her right arm at the shoulder, and her right leg bellow just past her kneecap. Pansy no longer had either of her legs from below just below mid thigh, and was missing both of her hands.

Standing in the back row where only four men who were standing at different spots down the line of seated women. From left to right it went George Weasley, Bill Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Harry himself. George and Bill where standing directly behind their wives with their hands resting on their wives' shoulders. Neville stood behind both Pansy and his wife Hannah, a hand resting on each of their shoulders. Harry stood directly behind Minerva.

Seeing these people almost brought out the sob in Harry's throat that had formed from looking at the previous picture. It was an odd collection of people for sure, especially considering their views growing up and then later in life. But it was what had caused all of them to come together that made him just as furious as when he had dealt with the three Weasleys' betrayal, and just as sad as well.

SEPTEMBER 3, 2017, Crawley, UK

It had been a very restless night for Harry after he had told Robert and Rose how their daughter had been used and killed. They had taken some time to get themselves sorted before calling a funeral home and starting the process for Hermione burial. They collectively decided she would be buried next to her grandparents, people Harry had met only a few times before they had died of old age about ten years ago, and who had been a major influence on Hermione's life when she was younger. They had also decided to make sure the headstone read Hermione Jane Granger as they wanted nothing to do with any memories of her being married to that loathsome cretin of a red head.

They had taken her body there as well after they had made the call, and thankfully upon arrival the person who was in charge of the home was a squib so they didn't have to think of some other reason to explain Hermione's death and non-stiff body.

With her body being prepared for burial at the home, it had been a silent and somber ride back to their house and Rose had insisted Harry stay with them that night. It wasn't like he could complain at all since it had literally taken both Robert and Rose to drag him out of the car and into the house. Well, not fully drag, just get him moving and guiding him as he moved robotically.

It was roughly five in the morning though when a frantic pounding on the front door woke all three of them. Harry had been asleep for maybe three hours by then as he kept having a dream that was re-enacting the scene of Hermione's murder over and over again.

Bleary eyed, he was the first one to the stairs, wondering idly how Robert and Rose had managed to get him up there in the first place. He was still in his clothes when he had awoken the first time, and had noticed he had been in their guest bedroom as well.

"Potter! I know you're in there damnit! We have an emergency! Get your bloody ass out of there this instant!" a muffled voice screamed through the pounding of the door. He recognized that voice. It was the old and crotchety voice of his boss from the Unspeakables, Croaker.

He opened the front door just as Robert and Rose made it to the top stairs. It had thankfully stopped raining sometime in the night, but there was a slight fog still hanging on the ground as well as a slight breeze, making Harry shiver.

The crisp air forced Harry to wake up a bit before asking, "What do you want Croaker?"

His mind still wasn't fully awake so he didn't notice the glare the old man was giving him for how he addressed him. He also missed the look of pity and sadness that replaced it seconds later.

"We have an emergency at Hogwarts. Sometime last night the school was attacked along with a couple muggle residences. We don't know by whom yet, or what the damage and body count is, but the school is in flames again, just like after you snuffed that wannabe Dark Lord. Following what transpired yesterday in the atrium, the Ministry is a nuthouse and the head of the DMLE has called in every Auror, Hit Wizard, and Unspeakable to go to Hogwarts and assess the damage. Typical ministry stupidity means that the last to be notified are you and me," Croaker ground out.

The only words that processed in Harry's mind initially where 'body count' 'hogwarts' 'emergency' and 'yesterday.' While everything else was standard for a quick debriefing of a situation, those five words had a chilling effect on Harry that made him shiver violently as well as forcing his mind to wake up. That same wrenching feeling he had yesterday was back with a vengeance, followed by a chill induced fear.

"Oh fuck, the kids!" Harry shouted before promptly vanished from his spot at the door. Robert and Rose blinked at the sudden disappearance for several seconds before their brains caught up that Harry was no longer standing where he was.

Croaker had a similar reaction before he turned his gaze to the two elderly muggles.

"I'm sorry to hear what happened to your daughter. She was a right brilliant lass, and after hearing what those, abominations, did to her I wish I could have done something more for her."

That brought about fresh tears to the old couples eyes as Croaker reached in and gently closed the door before twisting on the spot and apparating away.

He arrived a moment later at a designated apparation point in Hogesmead, the only point that was closest to the castle, before starting for the orange glow in the distance. From here you could normally see the towers of Hogwarts over the trees between the village and the castle proper. Those towers were no longer scraping the skyline and the only thing you could see from there was the deep orange/red glow of fire and the resulting smoke that billowed from it.

He moved as quickly as he could down to the gates where he finally caught up with Harry. It was surprising at first to see the young man stopped at the gates but then looked to where Harry was starring and soon understood why.

There on the gate where the bodies of the Harry's kids, even his youngest who wasn't even attending Hogwarts yet. And the bodies weren't just limited to his own offspring. All of the Weasley children were there as well, including the orphaned Teddy Lupin. Each and every one of them had been speared through both of their shoulders by pikes. They were the only things keeping them attached to the gate, not to mention aloft in some cases.

To add the horror of the scene, there were several muggles as well and it took Croaker a couple minutes to identify them. They were the Royal Family from the muggle side of their world. Oddly enough, the Queen wasn't there, just all of her descendants. And to make things worse, outside of the vacant expression on each persons' face, each person had been slashed across their stomachs, their organs spilling into a bulge just outside the evisceration.

It made Croaker sick to his stomach. Most of those people where just children and to do that to a child was morally repugnant.

As the bile was rising in his throat though, he felt the subtle charge of the air around him. Magic was gathering quickly in one spot not far away from him, and it was gathering in a massive quantity very, very quickly. He glanced at Harry out of the corner of his eye and flinched slightly.

He knew Harry was stronger than he was. Hell, there was only person who was anywhere near as powerful as Harry Potter but that person wasn't sure as hell him, anyone in his department, and sure as hell not anyone who worked for the ministry. Truth be told, the only other person that came close was a teacher of the school that was now in flames, and if the building magic around Harry was any indication, the school was about to become a crater.

Well that or something close by was. You couldn't build up this much magic and not bleed off the excess somewhere.

This was the Harry Potter that had made Croaker approach him in the first place. It wasn't just the sheer dumbfounding power that the boy had the potential to call upon and later control; it was how the aura of magic felt whenever he tapped into this power.

It absolutely screamed death, and he knew of no one who had found themselves under the full weight of this power that hadn't run away screaming while pissing them self in fear, or simply wound up dead in short order. The former was the case when he wasn't angry or upset and he wanted to settle something without resulting in a combat situation. If you made him angry enough to invoke this reaction though, you were already dead; your body just didn't know it yet.

When the magic stopped gathering around Harry, he was expecting the discharge to happen any moment and wondered if he would find himself in a sudden backlash of some sort. It had happened once before and he had spent a week in St. Mungo's because of it. That was when Harry was first learning to understand the subtleties of magic and had stumbled onto his unknown power.

To his awe, the magic didn't discharge at all and stayed with Harry as he simply started to walk forward. The gates of Hogwarts had already been opened prior to him arriving, looking as if they where the Gates of Hell welcoming them.

Beyond the gates though, that aura started to grow again, even as he walked. Croaker shuddered briefly as he followed. The charge in the air had started to cause him to feel like he was walking through mud and as if somewhat had placed a monstrous weight on his shoulders. He knew the reason why Harry's power had grown the second he had stepped through the gates.

Above the flaming rubble was the Dark Mark, the old symbol of Voldemort. It had shown up a few times since the bastard had died, each time by remnants of the once feared Death Eaters. Each time, the crime had been horrendous, vicious, and vile, but they had never really found out who had been sending the people to do the old work. That was mostly because there was usually nothing left of the person when Harry got through with them.

But it wasn't just the Dark Mark that had made Harry react. No, that mark had little to do with his reaction. It was the corpses scattered around the grounds that had caused his reactions. Students and faculty were scattered across the grounds. People from every house, every year, lay dead and mangled outside.

"Sweet Merlin," Croaker breathed seeing the devastation, "Who could have done something like this?"

"It won't matter who they are once I find them," Harry's cold and emotionless voice reached Croakers ears making him flinch again.

It was another aspect of Harry's power. He couldn't call it a positive or negative aspect as it was hard to judge. Harry was usually outgoing with his emotions, but when he tapped into whatever this power was, there was nothing there but a cold emptiness that sent chills down his spine.

Croaker followed silently behind Harry for sometime as they searched the grounds, looking for any sort of signs of life. They found the additional bodies of a lot of Aurors, no doubt those who had already been sent to find out whatever had happened here.

It was as they reached the shattered remains of the green house did they finally find someone. They both heard the distressed sobs of several women coming from inside a battered shed that looked like it had been through hell and back but was still standing. Around it were probably several scores of bodies, all dead, but thankfully these were of people dressed in the familiar garb of Death Eaters instead of students.

As they got within fifty feet of the shed, another voice, deep, imposing, and very much male, screamed at them.

"Stay the fuck back if you don't want to be obliterated!"

That made both Harry and Croaker stop where they were and look at each other, though Harry's eyes were dark, and the magic in his aura still gathered, it was obvious he recognized that voice as had Croaker. It was his grand-nephew after all, also the only other person that could even contend with Harry's power.

"Neville, it's me Harry. I'm here with your Uncle," Harry's voice called across to the shack. It made Croaker shiver hearing the dead tone of his voice again.

Slowly the door creaked open and the glowing of a smoking amber eye could be seen in the darkness of the shack. Croaker couldn't help but shiver again at the sight of that eye. It was the distinguishing physical trait that was shared between Harry and Neville.

Whenever they tapped their power, their eyes always started to glow and emit smoke that was a specific color. Harry's was a bright but deep green, which creepily enough for any who saw it, was the exact same color of the Killing Curse. Neville's was a bright amber, borderline gold color.

"Harry, is there anyone else beside you two?" Neville asked, that same deep sounding voice still there.

His voice was the counter to Harry's cold emotionless one. While normally laid back and somewhat reserved when speaking normally, Neville's voice would reflect a great deal more of his emotions and reactions when tapping into his power. That didn't make it any less terrifying when you were under his scrutiny, it just didn't have the immediate effect that made you feel as if were going to die if you so much as looked at him wrong as Harry's did, just that you felt like it was your final judgment and whatever his final verdict was, that was it.

"Just us," was that cold emotionless voices' response, "Who's in there with you?"

The door opened fully then, revealing Neville in a tattered black robe with soot on his face and his body smoking slightly.

"Professor McGonagall, Pansy Parkinson, and Narcissa and Astoria Malfoy are the only ones in here besides me. Pansy and the professor both need medical help, is Hermione with you somewhere or on the way?"

Neville's face contorted to one of confusion as Croaker's turned slightly pale at the immediate reaction of Harry who had started walking. He had paused briefly in his steps and the aura he was radiating tripled instantly if not quadrupled.

Croaker was praying to whoever was watching this place on the planet that Harry wouldn't lose control of all this accumulated magic.

The words following the increase though were enough to cause Neville to lose any and all focus he had on his own power and stare in shock at Harry.

"She's dead. Ginny killed her."

Once inside the shack, it would take several hours, and two low grade medical stunners to finally settle distraught women inside. The two Malfoy women had been the ones sobbing and Neville hadn't been kidding when he had said Pansy and Minerva needed medical attention. Both of the women were missing appendages and Neville had done his best to heal them. Harry and Croaker tried to do what they could to further heal them, which arguably wasn't a lot past finishing the closing of the wounds and making sure they were clean.

It was as they were trying to heal the two women that they learned of who had attacked the school and what had happened before they got there. The only reason that Harry hadn't gone storming after the culprits responsible was that once Harry had finished bandaging Minerva, she had latched onto him with her one remaining arm and would not let him go as she sobbed into his chest. Something that scared Croaker was that the second she had latched onto him and kept him from running off, all of the magic surrounding Harry seemed to vanish.

Croaker knew better though as the magic, while some had bleed off, had bleed inwards. How Harry's body contained and fused with that much power was anyone's guess, but he had a few.

It could possibly was reacting to what Harry's emotions where telling him, namely to protect the old woman that he was now hugging back. Or it could be reacting to what his body wanted him to do in regards to the culprits and was withdrawing to wait until it could be unleashed fully on those responsible. Either way, he wouldn't be around to find out if that theory was true. He had no such death wish, especially considering who would be feeling his wrath.

It turned out that the Malfoy males were the ones responsible and had been up to their old games back when Voldemort was in power. The only difference this time was that it was solely the males acting. They had gathered all of their former colleges who had escaped persecution following the downfall of Voldemort and, just like last time, slowly amassed strength. This time though, Lucius was the one leading them, and he had become a more vile and vicious abomination of malice and hate than his late master.

He had used his view of the world to further his ambitions, and made a crueler, more violent force of Death Eaters. They didn't bear the dark mark, but they were Death Eaters all the same, at least those that joined up with him later to 'follow in the pureblood cause.' Apparently the man had used the fact that he had been pardoned from time in Azkaban due to Narcissa's actions in betraying Voldemort to slither his way into more pockets and corrupt more people than he had last time, he was just more cautious this time around.

That tidbit made Harry even angrier as he had been the one to vouch for the Malfoys, especially Narcissa as she had promised after the Battle of Hogwarts to testify against any and all Death Eaters. Even the ones caught years later, she did exactly as she promised and the fact he had helped cause this by supporting the family simply for Narcissa upholding her end of the bargain she had made with the court made him ill.

But it wasn't just Lucius who had planned the attack last night. He had done it with his son and grandson, having been in the boy's life enough to corrupt him to his way of thinking. Astoria and Narcissa apparently had no idea of this, going so far to swear on their lives and magic that they hadn't known anything until it was too late. They had been out of the manor at the request of Draco and Lucius as they needed some time to get some work done that had piled up apparently. They were shocked when they got home to find not only Scorpius there instead of school, but discussing the attack on Hogwarts that would be happening shortly.

Their sudden gasps had alerted the three males, who had then tried to stop them from running to warn the staff at the school about what was to come. They had managed to get away from the three and get to Hogwarts, but by then it was already too late. There were Death Eaters dragging bodies out from the main entrance, each and every one of them dead, and tossing them to various points around the grounds.

To both of their horror, they recognized one of the Death Eaters involved as he was quite literally eatting a person who they couldn't identify past that it wasn't a student as the body looked older than the students. That Fenrir Greyback was still alive and part of this macabre scene chilled their bones.

They hadn't been at the gates long when they heard the three male Malfoys running down the path from Hogsmead. They ran along the inside wall of the grounds and had disappeared just inside the Forbidden Forest, both at a loss at what to do then and could only watch in horror as more and more bodies were brought out and tossed around the grounds. It would be almost an hour before they saw someone who wasn't a Death Eater leave the castle, and that had been Neville as he literally leapt through a shattered window, carrying a body over his shoulders as he ran.

They had run out to help him and see if there was anyone still alive but he didn't even acknowledge their presence as he kept running to the shack they were in now. That was where they finally came across Pansy and when Neville had finally realized exactly who else was with him in the shack. He had briefly scared the hell out of them when he had rounded on them and almost killed them on principal alone, but they had told him what they were now telling Harry about what they knew and that was what had spared them.

Minerva had confirmed what they had said, especially considering how Neville had found her.

She had been asleep in the Headmistress' quarters when she had been brutally roused by the three Malfoys. They had quite literally dragged her out of her bed and down the steps into the office by her hair. The sound of her screams had woken all the previous Headmasters and mistresses portraits and all of them watched in horror as each Malfoy took turns holding her under the Cruciatus Curse, all but two. One had left the second the screams started and the other showed no emotion during the torture. During each break before one of the other's would start the curse up again, Lucius bragged about how he had planned and planned for this day every since 'the Potter brat' had killed Voldemort the first time. He had started with conditioning his son to act as his 'spy' in the school and to act the ways he had through all his subsequent years at Hogwarts.

He bragged how he had made him into an almost duplicate of himself, the only problem being mild bouts of his conscious coming up at inappropriate times, something he fixed once he learned he had a grandson. But he hadn't stopped there and molded his grandson to his ideals as well. He laid out the entire plan of his domination of the world as his master's last wish, and how he would fulfill it in his stead. The fact that he point blank had said his master wasn't Voldemort but an even greater wizard had made Minerva shake even more at the time. The only good thing the statement meant was that Lucius' master was already dead.

The bastard then told her of his masters' and his plans on what to do with any and all witches who didn't bow down and serve him like he thought they should. Minerva had wanted to throw up during that but her body, which was already convulsing and none of its normal actions were happening.

That had been where Neville had show up, blowing the door off the hinges, already bleeding from some stray spell fire as he had made his way to the Headmistresses office. The Headmaster's portrait that had left had come and awoken him and told him what was happening to Minerva.

It was as he was running to her office did he run into some Death Eaters. It wasn't many, and at the time they had no bodies with them so he hadn't known what was happening to the students. Granted those people didn't live to kill anyone else as he had learned his lessons during the war with Voldemort. All Death Eaters attacking school children in any way shape or form would be exterminated.

He had started casting the a few seconds after he entered and had briefly assessed the situation. The Malfoys had already moved to take cover after his sudden and violent entrance. When they had taken cover, he moved and grabbed Minerva who was twitching and shaking violently by then. He had apparently been almost too late as the old women couldn't form coherent words, but she was still of somewhat sound mind and could respond to his inquiries via small nods or shakes as he moved her behind her desk after flipping it over.

Neville and the Malfoys had traded spells rapidly and briefly from their covered positions before something had flown from one of the Malfoys. He wasn't sure which one but it was what had taken Minerva's arm as it had sheered through the desk, her arm, the bookcase and books behind where they were hiding, and finally the stone wall beyond that.

Her screams of agony had hid the incantation for the Fiendfyre that had erupted into to room mere moments later and Neville really wasn't sure how he had managed to get them out of that office and to the shack.

He remembered wrapping his robe around Minerva's torso to stop the bleeding from her shoulder, picking her up and running from the room in record time. The Malfoys had already left after casting the violent and dangerous spell. They hadn't made it out totally unscathed however as the flames had caught onto Minerva's leg (which Neville had somehow used a Cutting Curse to cut the leg off below her kneecap before the fire spread and consumed them both while running.)

He also remembered jumping through an already shattered windows of the great hall to the back part of the grounds where the greenhouse where and ran to one of the shacks that normally held the tools. It was inside that he found Pansy, her hands and legs already gone, bleeding profusely and her eyes blank, but she was still alive. As much as he disliked the girl for the torment she brought against him and other Gryffindors in their school years, he didn't hate her, and wasn't about to watch her die.

He had placed Minerva down next to her after vanishing the pools of blood and cauterized the wounds somewhat to stop the flow of blood. The girl had screamed when he had done that, but it had to be done to keep her alive. He also had to do the same to Minerva who screamed just as loudly. Only when he had finished bringing the two women away from a sure death did he take note that Astoria and Narcissa where now with him, along with their brief conversation.

It was when he had opened the door to leave did he see more Death Eaters than he remembered seeing at the Battle of Hogwarts. Reacting on instinct alone, his own power had flared as he ducked back inside warded the living hell out of the shack. A few people had seen him as he had stepped back in and slammed the door shut and spell fire had rained down on it as he set and cast the wards.

Once they were up, anyone who got within fifty feet of the shack, specifically the door, would be within his range of senses and he would open the door and cast whatever spell was the first to enter his head. Nine times out of ten it was a simple Reductor, but based on his power, said Reductor turned any it came into contact with into a fine red mist if it hit directly, otherwise it ripped out large portions of their bodies..

After maybe twenty minutes of no one entering his range of sense did he finally have a chance to take stock of his surroundings in the shack, namely the volatile states of both Pansy and Minerva. As he did his best to heal what he could and try and ease whatever pain they had, Narcissa and Astoria had further relayed what they knew and didn't know about the attack, as well as the brief scene they had seen upon coming to Hogwarts to try and warn someone. Pansy's condition, namely that of her blank gaze wouldn't change until Harry arrived, and even then, she didn't speak at all. No one would get her story for quite some time.

It wouldn't be until Harry and Croaker arrived that Neville could finally step out of the shack finally and see the horror that he had missed due to his tunnel vision from running from Fiendfyre. The chaotic and uncontrollable spell had consumed all of the interior of Hogwarts and it seemed the only thing that had stopped the fire was the fact that the castle itself was predominantly held up by magic and had thus collapsed as the fire took out whatever magic was keeping the structure up. The resulting dust and lack of magic stopped the magical consuming part, but didn't snuff the left over natural flames were still active as they still had fuel.

That didn't even compare to the sight of hundreds of students brutally murdered, along with several of his fellow faculty and several mutilated bodies. He threw up on the spot at the sight of Harry's family on the gates.

While Hermione's murder had crushed Harry, that event damn near broken him, and was yet another blow to Robert and Rose as they learned the last links of blood they had to Hermione through her children where now dead. The event itself wasn't what had lead to the end of all magical beings except those in the picture. It was the death of the members of the Royal Family that a magical picture had been taken of, along with Harry's family and then the following massacre scene on the grounds that had been sent to several muggle news stations, as well as to the Queen herself with a simple message attached. Magic exists and every person who isn't a pureblooded witch or wizard will follow the same fate as these pathetic excuses of humans.

Arguably, this was not Lucius' part of what ever plan he had, at least Harry had thought. The message stirred up a figurative Hornets Nest. It had caused the Queen and her Prime Minister to inform the United Nations, and through them the rest of the world about what had happened to the Royal Family, and the threat the magicals were to them. After all, how the hell else could someone kidnap the Royal Family from under their security details, their security systems, and move them from where they were sleeping without making any noise about what was happening, only for them to be murdered along with other children in a brutal manner and their corpses displayed as if it was the Middle Ages.

The Ministry had tried to intervene and negotiate with the Crown once they learned how far reaching the impact of the massacre had. Their mistake was that they had sent Harry to talk with the Queen and the Prime Minister as most of their Department Heads had gone missing, as well as a good portion of the ministry workers themselves.

Harry had brought Neville with him when he went as, if Hogwarts had still be standing, he would have been acting Headmaster since he was the only other surviving person on staff that wasn't injured. It was also because he was the only other person beside the Grangers and Minerva who could keep Harry somewhat in line if his emotions started to run away from him. He would have brought the other three with him but the Minerva was being taken care of at the Grangers at Harry's request (read command) to the healers.

No one in the Ministry could figure out what had been said been said during the meeting between Harry, Neville, the Queen, and the Prime Minister. The only for sure thing they could tell was that both Neville and Harry had shown up back in the Ministry itself two days after, both pissed as hell, with Harry turning in his immediate resignation from the Aurors, as well as stopping by Croakers office and doing the same. He hadn't taken much with him from his offices, just all of his research notes from his time studying the intricacies and subtleties of magic from his Unspeakable office, and all the pictures he had of his family and friends. Well, minus some sole pictures of particular individuals.

It had been ten years after Harry's resignation and subsequent vanishing from the magical world that the storm of what was to come started. Not many magical knew what to expect. They knew the muggles now knew of their world thanks to the attack on Hogwarts and the murder of the Royal Family, but they had become complacent when life seemed to go on as normal. Nothing had seemed to change except some of the ones that did venture or mix with muggles more regularly than others got mixed receptions.

Then the first wave of attacks happened. It started suddenly with the wholesale destruction of the government systems than ran the magical communities around the world. Then came the invasion of large communal sites. In Britain, this meant Hogsmead, Diagon Alley, Knocturn Alley, and Azkaban Prison were hit first. Effectively, they were wiped off the face of the planet by bombs or the numbers of soldiers that somehow had found access around all the charms and wards to keep places like that safe.

Then the global wide Witch Hunt began that would see the destruction of all the witches and wizards in the world. Anyone or thing that fought the tide of soldiers wound up dead, and thus saw the extinction of magical creatures and beings that didn't have the sense to vanish from all sight but that of existence itself. The only people to be spared were young muggle borns, with the exception of very few half and purebloods. Those few were the ones who had been friends with muggle borns who themselves had been spared, and it was only the muggle borns pronouncement for their friends that kept them off the chopping block as it were.

The Witch Hunt had far more devastating consequences than could be imagined though. Magic itself seemed to have become affect by the devastation that was wrought on the magical world, and thus after the first year of the hunt, magical babies stopped being born.

Those that had magic still and had been spared were relocated into specific areas to be watched and monitored. They weren't totally confined to those places and could move freely outside of those communities, but they would be scorned by all but some of their closest family members. These communities would become smaller and smaller as magic receded from the world, and would eventually become nonexistent.

The only ones who had been spared from both the Witch Hunt and the relocation movement had been those in the picture. Harry had spent the ten year lull tracking down all of them and bringing them to an isolated place. Some were easy to find as they had stayed in contact with Harry through the years, however brief and far between those contacts had been. Others proved to take some time and had disturbing tales as to how they wound up where they had. The only ones he hadn't needed to find outside of Hannah, Narcissa, Minerva, Pansy, and Astoria where most of the remaining Weasleys. Bill and George had been disgusted when they had learned what their so called mother and siblings had done. Fleur and Angelina were just as upset, and in Fleur's case even more so as the idea of having your love manipulated in such a way was even fouler to a Veela than rape. Arthur and Charlie never showed up because they didn't need to. Their bodies had been found and identified amongst those left at Hogwarts.

Each member that joined Harry had their own stories to tell when they were finally found or showed up. Those stories began a long series of questions for Harry as he moved around the globe with his group searching for the others. Robert and Rose had been with him at the start after learning what was coming and wanted some form of retribution of their own on the world that had taken their daughter away from them. It had been after their funeral that this particular picture had been taken. They were the first of the group that would slowly die off until only Harry was left to find the remaining answers to the questions that had started him on this seemingly never ending quest.

Thinking about those questions that had lead to countless other questions which he did finally find answers too much later in his life, made him shake his head as he tried tore his eyes away that picture. It hurt too much to think about what had been done to them; what that conniving, manipulative, disgraceful, senile, depraved, and evil bastard of a man had done to the people Harry loved.

Sighing again and trying to shake off his morose thoughts he walked over to his bed and lay down, folding his arms behind his head as he stared at the dull gray metal of the roof of his ship. The simple idea of 95% of his ship being that exact same dull gray metal made him snort as it was a reflection of how his life had been for god knows how long now. He had stopped caring about how long it had been some time ago, though he had kept a detailed time log in remembrance of Hermione, and also so he could keep track of when another year had passed.

"Yea, simple gray with nothing going on, just like my life and whatever the fuck is keeping me alive and away from my family," Harry muttered to himself as he stared at his ceiling for a while longer before closing his eyes and going to sleep.

It wasn't that hard to fall asleep. It was always quiet in space, wherever the hell he was. Only the gentle hum of the engines and the faint buzz of power that kept his ship lit sounded in his ears.

It was a constant, dull, monotone sound, and it quickly made him slip into the gentle embrace of Morpheus. He was already asleep when a beeping sound from his bridge started up. If he had been there, he would have heard the warning sound turn on, though he wouldn't have needed to, he would have seen what could only be describe as a light green tendril of energy coalesced in front of his ship. With no one to change the course the ship still heading directly for the energy simply drifted right into it with Harry none the wiser.

A/N: Hope you liked the first chapter! Sorry if the end seemed a bit rushed, I promise most of that will be explained later.