Author's Note: Just a transition chapter really, except we do find out about Imy so that's something...and it might be a cliffy. Thank you for all the reviews for the last chapter and enjoy the chapter.

Summary:

Three months have passed since that fateful night when Dumbledore was killed and Harry vowed to kill his murderer, and it's been a year since Harry found out Severus Snape was his father, but this time it is not the worries of making a relationship work that cloud Harry's mind but how he will deal with the war that has now become all too clear, how he will find the Horcruxes in solitude, and how to distract himself enough to not think about his father. But how can he accomplish all of this when he's worried sick about his best friend and he has no idea where to begin searching for the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

Disclaimer:

I don't own anything but maybe the plot, Faye, and Imogen.

Chapter Four

Grimmauld Place

August 1, 1998

Harry attempted yet again to control his magic. He could feel it within him – that had been the first step – he just couldn't quite get at it.

"You have to want it," Faye said. "You have to want it more than anything. You have to command it, mold it to your will."

Harry gave her a sharp nod, and tried again. He could feel it stir within him like a burst of sunshine inside him, itching to get out but not able to. Harry willed it get out and to levitate the feather in front of him. Nothing happened. He gave a weary sigh.

"What about doing it with you in his head," Lucius said.

"I didn't want to do it that way. I want him to be able to do it without me helping him through it."

Lucius nodded thoughtfully. "Then this will take him months to master," he said. "With practice your magic grows, Harry, and as it grows it becomes much more volatile and harder to control, but making it powerful is what we want. Accidental magic is wandless magic caused by emotion. It is pure magic. Your magic has to expand, that's the only way I can see this working, now."

Harry nodded. He knew it would be hard. This wasn't something that you were just a natural at. Voldemort had increased his magic through spells and potions until he could use wandless magic. In the back of his mind he knew that Snape would have made a better teacher, but he shook this thought and then tried it again. This time he felt his magic run farther through his body, filling him up with warmth.

His eyes closed and he felt as if he was in an embrace of warmth. Everything was calm and peaceful. His eyes opened and everything was hazy. He could make out shapes and then he felt exhaustion. He slumped forward and for a second everything went black.

"Harry, Harry?" A frantic voice asked.

He lifted his head. "I'm fine," he mumbled.

"Well, you're done for the day," Faye said with a shake of her head. "Come on, you need some rest. Kreacher!"

Faye led Harry to the sofa and helped him sit. Harry smiled gratefully at her.

"That was rather impressive, I think," Lucius said from his chair.

"And we'll be talking about magical exhaustion soon enough, Harry," Faye said with the hint of a warning tone in her voice, though mostly Harry identified fondness.

When he and Faye had gotten to be this close, Harry didn't know, but she had become a friend, caring for him in a way that a mother should, with the understanding of who he was and what he needed unlike Molly Weasley who felt that all that Harry needed was to be fed and coddled.

Kreacher, under the instruction of Faye, brought them a small lunch. Harry tried to eat the sandwich that had been placed on the table next to him.

"You have to regain your strength, Harry," Faye said, as she brought her own sandwich to her mouth.

The next few minutes were spent in silence, Harry trying to determine which corner of the sandwich it would be best to start with, while Faye turned the pages of a book, still researching for Hermione, and Lucius stared at the fire, deep in thought. The silence was broken suddenly by the sound of a knock on the door.

Harry sat up. This had to be news. Harry tried to get up, but Faye kept him seated with one look, and motioned for Lucius to see who it was, though she too looked curious and worried. Her expressions could have easily indicated that she had no real interest in the matter, but Harry knew better, and he was glad to note that she had allowed him to become this close to her.

Lucius came back a few seconds later, leading a blood covered Remus inside the house. Tightly to his chest, Remus was holding a small body, and it took Harry all of a minute to figure out who the lithe body belonged to. Imogen Copperfield was unconscious, but it was clear to Harry that it was her blood on Remus and not his. Questions flooded his mind. What had happened? Had she been at the ministry?

"Bring her here," Faye said, waving her wand at a chair that quickly transfigured itself into a small comfortable bed.

Remus put her down and Faye rushed to her side.

"What happened to her?" She asked.

"Cruciatus, a cutting spell, and who knows what else before we got there."

Imy moaned in pain. One of her pale hands moved to her side, just as her eyes fluttered open. She hissed something unintelligible and then whimpered.

"She's going to need a pain potion," Remus said. "I'll go and find one."

"No," Faye said before he had even stepped away. "I worked on her, remember. A pain potion will not help."

"Worked on her?" Harry asked.

Faye did not answer. She had taken Imogen's face in her hands and was looking deep into her eyes, and Harry knew she was using legilimency on her. They all watched in silence, and then after what could have been only seconds Faye shook her herself.

"What happened to her?" Harry asked.

"Dreamless sleep, and maybe some of that cream of yours, Lucius," Faye said first, before looking at Harry. "She was in the ministry during the moment of the attack and hid in the Minister of Magic's office. She's been hiding in there until earlier today when Nagini gave her away."

Faye said nothing more and began to wave her wand over Imogen's body, a deep frown on her face. Harry watched, hoping that nothing serious had happened to Imy, not only physically but mentally.

It took Faye about half an hour to get Imy fixed up and Harry thought that she still looked too pale to be alright. He watched her from his spot on the sofa, still holding the sandwich he had been handed earlier. Imogen was like a sister to him, and hearing that she couldn't take pain potions made him suspicious. What had Faye done? She had worked on her? How? Medically? Questions made up his entire mind at the moment, but he didn't dare ask them while Faye looked almost as pale as Imy.

Remus had left again, something about being needed at Hogwarts. From what he had told them, the Ministry gave the appearance of being deserted, but only because it was destroying itself slowly and Voldemort had been working on reconstruction. Harry wondered, what would happen then, but pushed that thought away. They had managed to escape the clutches of the Ministry but barely, and had taken only Imy though they were pretty sure that only a few Ministry officials had been killed outright, and that most of the casualties had happened due to the attack.

While all of this was going on, Harry still worried about the Horcruxes, and not for the first time did he think about Snape, and wonder if Snape had told Voldemort about his knowledge of the parts of his soul. Surely, Snape didn't hate him that much.

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August 2, 1998

Imy woke up with a headache. She was in a comfortable bed and other than the headache what bothered her most was her lack of water and food. She didn't recognize the room she was in, but she was in a bed, and she was clean, and she didn't feel any pain on her limbs from lack of movement or from being thrown out of her hole, or whatever else had happened at the ministry.

She heard footsteps outside her door, and then the gentle voice of a woman admonishing someone.

"No. I can't allow that," she was saying. "You know as well as I do."

The man responded with, "I hardly have to listen to you." And then their voices drifted away.

Imy wanted to know who they were even though she had the idea that she had heard the woman's voice before, and that neither of them meant her any harm. Before she could get out of bed and go out to explore the house, however, the door to her room opened about an inch, and Imogen saw eyes that she had thought, only a day ago, that she would never see ever again.

Harry Potter had changed. But he was the same. His entire being shouted out with power, and there was a subtle change in him.

"Harry!" She cried, and tried to get off the bed and run to him.

He was at her side in an instant and had her in his arms, pulling her into a hug. "I was worried about you," he admitted.

She smiled into his chest. "I didn't think I would ever see you again, Harry," she said. "I was so afraid and I kept thinking of how brave you were and about what you would do if you had been in my place. Oh, Harry, he was so scary."

She shuddered.

"You're alright now," Harry said. "Can you walk? Kreacher made breakfast and you're probably famished."

"I can walk," she assured him, and then giving her room another look over, she asked, "Where are we exactly?"

"My house," Harry said. "Well, my godfather's house. He left it to me when he died. It's probably the most protected place in London. In here you're as safe as you are at Hogwarts."

Imy grinned. "I kind of like it here."

"Alright, well, we really should be getting down stairs. But first, I guess I should warn you. You've heard of Lucius Malfoy, right?"

Imogen nodded. "What about him?"

"He is living in this house. He's actually very nice in a certain way once you get to know him. He's on our side, you see. He was a spy. I guess everyone got it all wrong when they thought that Snape was the good one. Anyway, he's been living here for months now, and he and Faye are sort of together or something. I don't really like thinking about that, but it's just so you know."

"Who else is in this house?"

"At the moment there isn't anyone else. Remus Lupin will pop in from time to time. His wife will too at times, and a number of other people. The Weasleys. But in light of everything that's happened, I think it's only the four of us for a while."

Harry led Imogen down the corridor, and then down the stairs. She took in the ancestral home without fear, but with the knowledge that it must have belonged to someone that used dark magic – that sort of thing left a mark, and even she as a twelve year old muggle born could feel that.

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August 5, 1998

News had been scarce, and Harry had spent all of his free time attempting to grasp wandless magic, with Imogen watching him quietly with Faye.

Lucius would often join them for a short amount of time, before he retreated to the library where he spent most of his time reading. Harry and Faye had tried many times to get him to tell them what it was Lucius did in the library for hours at a time, but Lucius never relented and told them, hiding the books he read with spells so that not even that they could know.

Now that Imy was in the house as well, Lucius was seen even less than before.

"Try again, Harry," Imy said, cheering him on.

Harry smiled faintly and closed his eyes. He gathered all of his magic, pulling at it from his very being and tried to direct it outwards to the unlit candle in front of him. Nothing happened, but he felt the magic at his fingertips, which was more than could be said the last time he had tried.

Harry eased the magic back, and sighed. Magical exhaustion, as Faye had lectured him, was the worst that could happen to him, but it was also something that he had to avoid at all costs.

"Just keep practicing, Harry, that's all I can tell you," Faye said, looking up at him from a large tome on spells and the roll of parchment that contained her miniscule writing and all the research they had done so far on helping Hermione.

"Alright. I'll give it another go," Harry said, and prepared himself.

Harry kept on practicing for the next fifteen minutes, until finally deciding that he needed to take a break from it, he joined Imogen on the sofa where she was flipping through a book.

"Imy, should we be getting you to your parents?" Harry asked.

He had been meaning to breach the subject for a while, wondering why she, a muggle-born soon to be second year at Hogwarts had somehow wound up at the Ministry of magic near the Minister of Magic's office of all places.

Imogen closed her book. "They probably won't mind that I'm gone," Imogen said.

Harry wondered if this was anything to do with her magic, he didn't, however, ask her that. Instead he nodded and then turned towards Faye. "Anything new?" He asked.

"Not really. Just the same stuff as before. I think I've almost got the original incantation just right. If I get that, then we can eliminate many different variables into what could help her. I've been looking into potions now. Certain plants seem like they might help, but if not mixed with the right ingredients it could turn out catastrophic."

Harry knew there was no point to even hope that Hermione would be alright. The best she could come to being alright was in the state she was in now – petrified.

"Poor Hermione," Imy said with a sad smile. "She protected me, you know. I wasn't aware that anything was going on, and I came out into the hallway, and there were spells flying everywhere, and something was thrown my way. Hermione deflected it, but I was hit later by a stunner. Neville made sure I wouldn't get hit by anything else from what Ginny told me."

Imy had been in the hospital wing for the total of one day, before she was allowed to leave. After that Harry had seen her only once in the common room and then another time during Dumbledore's funeral. After that, he had lost track of her, particularly after leaving the school, and now he began to wonder if her home life was at all alright.

From what Faye had managed to get out of her concerning the matter, Imogen had an older brother that basically took care of her, and she hated being a burden to him. Her mother and father were divorced, and her mother worked most of the time leaving her brother to take care of her. Her going to Hogwarts had saved both of them up a lot of time, but now that she was back things were different. Imy never spoke of her mother or brother, or for that matter of her father whom Imy claimed to have no knowledge of.

What had been most interesting about what Imy had had to tell them was that she didn't know how she had gotten to the Minister's office, but only that she had gone to the Ministry with Elissa Harper and her mother before Mrs. Harper had been called in to see to some matter and had not wanted to leave them alone.

Harry didn't know what he could make of the fact that not only Imogen had gotten separated from them, but Mrs. Harper and Elissa were neither marked as dead or missing.

Lucius claimed to have never heard of any Death Eater with the name of Harper, but Harry was almost positive that Mrs. Harper was a Death Eater, and that she had endangered Elissa for the sake of endangering Imy. Harry just couldn't figure out the reason.

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August 25, 1998

Harry couldn't just sit still and do nothing. He knew it was time for him leave. He had spent too much time already, sitting idly. Learning wandless magic was important, and Harry understood that, but the Horcruxes would become more crucial as time went on. Right now, Harry highly doubted that Voldemort knew he was aware of the objects that made him immortal. But sooner than Harry would like, Voldemort would find out and begin protecting them far more than he had in recent years. He might even try to lure Harry to one, and then not even wandless magic could help him once Voldemort captured him or worse. He had to get a move on, and he had to do it soon.

News about what would happen to the wizarding world were scarce, and for the most part only rumors. Slowly, the Death Eaters and Voldemort had rebuilt the Ministry, and now, they were there, hidden behind the power that the Ministry now had over the wizarding world. The only place untouched by this corruption was Hogwarts and it would remain that way for as long as possible.

It would take him just two days to be completely ready to leave. He would do it just as he had planned before. Faye knew that he meant to do this, but no one else – though Harry imagined that Lucius had some idea of his plans. With the Ministry in the mess that it was with everyone wanting more power than the other it was the perfect time to depart. He could disappear for some time without anyone noticing him. What Harry didn't know, however, was how he was going to get away from Imogen to gather everything he needed. With Imogen around, Harry did not get any free time. She was everywhere he went and Harry felt finally as if he knew what actually having a little sister meant. Suddenly he found himself with a deep understanding of Ron's feelings about Ginny. He would never not listen to Ron when he wanted to complain about his younger sibling ever again.

Harry felt, more than he noticed, the eyes on the back of his head, and at once knew that the object of his thoughts was watching him. At first, Imy watching as he attempted to use wandless magic had encouraged him, but now it was just another quirk of Imy's that Harry couldn't stand.

"Imy, I need to concentrate. You standing there watching me is not gong to help," Harry said in as gentle as voice as possible as to not yell at her.

Harry heard her leave the room and was grateful in part for the fact that Imy was generally understanding of other's people's limits, even if at times she tended to forget such things. After making sure that nothing else was distracting him, Harry pulled on his magic and attempted to light the candle in front of him.

Like every time he had tried this before, he could feel his magic and it was – in his opinion – reasonably more powerful than when he had first started learning wandless magic. He could feel it, now, running through his veins, wanting to rush out of him. And then it did, but it did nothing more than to rush around him. It was pure raw power and it was all around him for a few seconds before it rushed back into his body.

His magic sung. Harry felt exhilaration. He had never felt such a high in his life before. That pure energy that came right out of him had taken his breath away – and there were no words to describe it. With more practice he would master it; Harry was sure of it. He stood up from his spot on the floor in the room he had once shared with Ron back before his fifth year.

A few seconds later after letting the aftershock of the magic running through him leave him, Harry walked out of the room, making his way to the room that had belonged to Sirius, hoping that as Imy had gone off to do something else (Harry secretly hoped that she would be annoying Lucius) he could finally get around to doing some packing. There were few things that Harry truly cared about and those were the ones he was talking with him – he was also going to be leaving many of his belongings behind.

Harry had almost finished going through everything in his trunk which apparently – with the enlargement spells – seemed to hold not only his books for Hogwarts but so many others as well as his clothes and most of his worldly belongings, that Faye knocked on his door, and looking around entered the room and closed the door behind her gently.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" She asked.

"It's about time I go. I promised to stay long enough for everything to be back in order. It's perfect timing for me to leave," Harry said.

Faye nodded and walked around his room, looking at the walls that seemed to Harry empty without the posters his godfather had favored of motorcycles and half naked girls though Harry could admit to himself that the girls would have made him slightly uncomfortable.

"I hope you will contact me if anything does wrong – if you need anything at all. I'm not going to pry as to the real reason you're leaving because there must be something else you have to do."

Harry gave no indication that he did have another reason for leaving other than what Faye suspected. She smiled faintly at him.

"Harry," she said suddenly, though in a way that Harry knew meant that she was very reluctant to breech this subject, but that she had to.

"What is it?" He asked.

"Oh, Harry," Faye said and took his face between both her hands, like she had the day of his birthday at the Burrow. He looked straight at her blue eyes.

"I need you to promise me something," she said with all seriousness.

Harry frowned. "What – what do you need from me?"

Faye took a deep breath, letting his face go and instead grasping his shoulders.

"I need you to promise me, Harry, that if you ever encounter your father, you will restrain yourself. Do not commit the crime that will make you into the next Dark Lord. Please listen to him. There has got to be a reason for what he did. If there is anything you can do for me, Harry, you will promise me this."

Harry was shocked. This was not what he had expected her to ask. That she even brought up to topic of Snape with him was a shock to him. So far both of them had ignored that topic of conversation and now the entire thing was floating in the air between them.

"I can't," Harry said in an almost chocked voice. He coughed. "That man may be my father, but he is a murderer."

The last month hadn't changed that, Harry knew. His anger may have receded and for the most part he no longer felt completely irrational about his anger towards his father, but Snape had still killed Dumbledore – had betrayed Harry. Harry ignored the voice in the back of his head that was telling him that he was also still mad at Snape over the bathroom incident, and that matter of his telling Voldemort about the prophecy. He didn't mention any of this to Faye, however, and waited for her to say something.

Harry noticed, before she spoke that she was staring without really seeing anything, straight in front of her; seemingly to be caught up in a memory. She blinked suddenly.

"Sorry," she said, "just thinking."

Harry was itching to ask her what she had been thinking, but instead he waited her to begin.

"Harry, you won't understand this until you have children of your own. Sometimes a parent will do what is best for you even if it hurts you."

"But you don't have any children—" Harry began. She stopped him by placing a hand atop his.

"I do, Harry. This is what I'm telling you."

Harry's eyes widened and he attempted to say something but nothing came out.

Faye smiled faintly at him and began her story.