Harry Potter and the Power of the Past

by Lord umbrex

This is a complete AU Harry Potter is a 21 year old wizard, who's on top of the world. He's rich, in love, and loved by all, but his life is turned upside down as a spiral of events leads to the ultimate battle between good and evil.

37. Preparation on the Fronts

Harry Potter and the Power of the Past

Disclaimer: All JKR's, not mine.

Summary: This is a complete AU- Harry Potter is a 21-year-old wizard, who's on top of the world. He's rich, in love, and loved by all, but his life is turned upside down as a spiral of events leads to the ultimate battle between good and evil. Can Harry lead the fight for the light, but yet manage to keep his life together?

A/N: Thanks for the reviews everybody. Oh, and review again!

S/N: There should be either three or four more chapters after this one, so we're definitely nearing the end.

S/N 2: It's Barron, not a misspelling of the noble title Baron. As you will see, I'm tying up and finishing a lot of the subplots, so you might want to take a look at chapter 11, chapter 27 (where Harry blurted the name 'Herald' out), and chapter 29.

Chapter 37: Preparation on the Fronts

A brown rat ran atop of the white snow on the grounds of Hogwarts, his small head bobbing up and down as he moved towards his destination. As the rat neared the white marble tomb of Albus Dumbledore, it transformed with a pop into a short, rat-looking human, who then continued to trudge through the snow: it was early in the morning so the moon was just setting—everyone was still asleep in the castle that hovered across the lake. After reaching the tomb, he stood at the bottom of it, his wand held lightly in his right hand as he stared at the stone, wondering what magic he would need in order to crack it open. He flicked his wand while muttering an incantation and with a great lurch, the top of the tomb moved from its place, allowing the wizard access to the body protected inside.

Peter Pettigrew looked down at Albus Dumbledore's lifeless body, moving the shroud that covered the corpse off of his face and torso. Dumbledore's arms were rested gently across his chest, his fingers entangled with a holly wand: his wand. Seeing his prize, Pettigrew grabbed the wand out of the dead wizard's hands and immediately closed the tomb back up, moving quickly and stealthily so that no one could see him. He transformed back into a rat with another pop and entered the Forbidden Forest, knowing that Lord Voldemort would be calling for him soon.

The Death Eaters started to arrive in the throne room just minutes after their Dark Marks burned on their forearms. Those who were staying in the manor above, the ones who were freed from the shackles of Azkaban, all walked down the stairs into the dungeon basement, while those who were living off of the premises apparated in with a loud crack. They all had their black hoods up and their varying masks on, with about half wearing the bone masks of the older generation and the other half wearing the metal masks of the younger, newer Death Eaters. They all stood in a large circle, silently waiting for the Dark Lord to speak; he was lazily leaning in his throne, his snake Nagini curled comfortably around his neck.

"Ah, Peter Pettigrew," Voldemort said brightly, as a shorter Death Eater took a step forward. "I hope you were successful in the endeavor that I forced you to undertake."

"I was, master." Pettigrew bowed, and then reached into his robes and pulled out Dumbledore's wand that he had procured an hour before. "I have this for you."

Voldemort bent down and took the wand into his chalk-like hands, and almost immediately, his own wand that was in his robes started to vibrate, reacting to its brother. Soon enough, Dumbledore's wand began to shake, as well, making the Dark Lord scowl in fury. "This is not the Elder Wand, Pettigrew! This is Dumbledore's normal wand, the wand that I and Harry Potter connected with during our encounter in the Ministry. It is a useless relic of a pitiful dead man!"

"What?" Pettigrew chirped, as his eyes widened in both fear and confusion. "No, my master, that was the only wand in Dumbledore's tomb, I promise! Please, have mercy." He begged, knowing that his punishment was coming. He didn't appreciate the idea of being punished for this since, after all, no one else in the Death Eater's fold would have been able to even reach Dumbledore's tomb, let alone come back with the great wizard's wand.

"You failed Lord Voldemort, Pettigrew!" Voldemort scathed, throwing Dumbledore's wand onto the ground in anger, where it rolled off into the corner, hidden by shadows. "I do not take failure lightly!" He looked down at the rat, who was kissing his robes, begging for mercy, and he gave out a hollow laugh. "I will find the Elder Wand, still."

Just then, Quirinus Quirrell, Walden Macnair, and Fenrir Greyback all walked into the room, and when they took their places within the ranks, the circle was finally complete—that is, of course, accepting the fact that five of their numbers would be unable to ever return. Those five included Thorfin Rowle, whom was brutally electrocuted by Rabastan Lestrange and was still in St. Mungo's criminal ward as a result, still unable to string together a sentence. Both Scabior and Zacharias Smith, meanwhile, had been killed at the raid of Lilyre Moon's house a month and a half prior; Smith died by the Killing Curse and Scabior died by bleeding out on the grass after the Death Eaters left him behind in their retreat. Selwyn had been captured early on during the war and was now locked down in the deepest parts of Azkaban, unable to be freed by Voldemort, though the Dark Lord never really tried. And finally, there was Augustus Rookwood, who had been a big blow to Voldemort's ranks when he was found dead outside of his old home.

"Ah, my Death Eaters are all here." Voldemort smirked, allowing Pettigrew to take his place and escape his punishment. "I suppose," He started slowly, taking his yew wand out of his robes and fondling it tenderly, as if it was a lover. "That you are wondering why I called you all so early in the morn. Well, Lord Voldemort is happy to say that the time has come for us to take Hogwarts."

Murmurs erupted throughout the ranks, and Voldemort took a second to gather his thoughts, allowing the Death Eaters a brief moment of excitement. In his spot in the circle, Severus Snape's stomach turned upon the Dark Lord's proclamation, as his mind drifted off to the dangers that would come if Voldemort were to get the wizarding school. Under his skull mask, his black eyes roamed over to Kylie, who seemed to have taken the news much better than he had as the wizard had barely reacted, though he did have his head down in contemplation. That didn't last long, however, as the man next to Kylie, his father, had just elbowed him in the ribs, forcing Kylie to look towards the Dark Lord—though Snape could tell his mind wasn't there, as if he was still thinking about some great mystery.

"It will happen soon, my Death Eaters, my true family." Voldemort's voice carried off of the stone walls, creating an echo effect that made the Death Eaters even more scared than usual. "Within this week, I say. The next time I summon you will be the day, but before that time, make sure to continue the assignments that Lord Voldemort has handed out to you. I am trusting you, Pettigrew, to lead Macnair and his dark creatures, Quirrell and his trolls, and Greyback and his werewolves through the Forbidden Forest, make sure I do not regret that decision."

"I understand, my lord." Pettigrew murmured, bowing his head deeply in fear and respect. He had escaped punishment once already that meeting; he would not put himself in a position to be punished again.

"Crouch, continue what you have been doing." Voldemort ordered, his red gaze moving over to where Barty Crouch, Jr., stood. "You have been doing well so far, do not change course now."

Crouch nodded his head and said, "I will, master. Cornfoot," He moved his gaze over to another Death Eater across the circle. "I will need more potions soon."

"There is another batch brewing as we speak." Stephen Cornfoot answered, taking a step forward and nodding his head. Snape, meanwhile, cocked an eyebrow at that, wondering just what kind of potion Cornfoot was brewing for them. Cornfoot had been a very good student as a Ravenclaw in Hogwarts, Snape knew, but if they needed a potion, why didn't they go to him for it?

"Mulciber, I assume you have been wrangling up as many Imperiused witches and wizards that you can?" Voldemort questioned, reaching down and petting Nagini's scaly head.

"Yes, my lord." A Death Eater near Kylie spoke, a gleeful sound to his voice. Bellatrix Lestrange cursed under her breath as she watched Mulciber answer, furious that she had lost her spot within the ranks of the Death Eaters.

"Good." The Dark Lord smirked, his red eyes burning in anticipation. "You may leave; I have work I have to do." Voldemort finished, and then immediately disapparated out with a crack. His loyal companion Nagini slithered out of the room once her master was gone, presumably to find food to eat.

Nearly all of the Death Eaters followed suit, with only a few soliciting behind, which included Severus Snape. Snape made conversation with a Death Eater wearing a silver mask for nearly ten minutes and when that Death Eater finally apparated away, Snape was left alone in the stone chamber. He quietly walked over to the corner where Dumbledore's wand rolled off into, and with his wand tip alit in silver light, he searched for his dear friend's discarded wand. He found it against the wall and picked it up, placing it safely in his pocket and then disapparated out of the room, intent on putting the wand back in Dumbledore's tomb as soon as he could.

Meanwhile, Rabastan Lestrange walked up to his room above the basement right after the meeting concluded. He took off his robes and his mask, and tossed them onto a rocking chair that was on the other side of the room. Then, he turned his attention to the mirror that was hanging above his dresser, specifically to the picture that was taped onto the glass. The picture was of a sixteen year old Rabastan and his future wife, Solange when they were in Beauxbatons; the pair was brewing a potion together before it blew up in their faces, resulting in a white powdery substance being thrown all over them. They both looked at each other and laughed, before engulfing each other in a loving embrace.

"Solange," Rabastan whispered, touching the picture with his right index finger. He reached into the top drawer and pulled out a small, wooden jewelry box, and then opened the lid and pulled out a bronze key. He grabbed a quill and a piece of parchment from his desk, and began to scrawl a note to his son.

When he was done, he wrapped the piece of parchment around the key, and then tied a piece of twine around it, preventing the key from falling out. He then walked over to his black robes that were still hanging off of the chair and tucked the wrapped key into the pocket, knowing that he would need to get it to his son as soon as he could. With a sigh, he fell onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling, wondering when he would be called to do Voldemort's bidding.

Latter that day, an emergency Order of the Phoenix meeting was called by Harry. He and Tonks walked down into the basement of 12 Grimmauld Place together; many of the Order members were having lighthearted conversations amongst each other. Harry took a seat in his chair at the head of the table nearest to the stairwell, while Tonks took her seat in the middle of the table next to Gaetana, who was talking quietly to Cedric. Sirius and Kingsley were both tending to the fire on the other side of the room, laughing every so often about something that they were talking about. Harry was happy that Sirius had found a friend in Kingsley, having great respect and love for both of the men—especially Sirius, with whom he couldn't help but feel sad about when thinking about all of the time they had missed together. Mundungus Fletcher sat at the other end of the table, smoking his corncob pipe as he counted his gold galleons that were placed down in front of him. Meanwhile, Fred and George were playing pranks on their brothers, Charlie and Bill, using many of the gag items that they had created over the years.

"Who's watching over the store if you're both here?" Wayne Hopkins questioned, having not seen both George and Fred in the same place in a long time. One of them usually stayed at the store, while the other came to the Order meetings, so having them both at the meeting was quite rare. "Ron and Ginny?"

"Verity Burbage." Fred replied with a slight blush to his cheeks. "She's been working with us since we've opened; she's a big part of what we do." Verity was a nice girl with short blonde hair that had attended Hogwarts during the same time that George and Fred did. She was the daughter of Charity Burbage, the Muggle Studies Professor at Hogwarts, who had taken over the position when Quirinus Quirrell went off to travel all those years ago, before he was Death Eater.

"Fred wants to marry her!" Bill teased, pitching his voice up to a grade schooler's. He knew that Fred had a crush on Verity, though he didn't know how serious he was about her.

"How mature, William." George said to his older brother with a tisk of faux disappointment, shaking his head negatively—though the smile that was playing on his lips betrayed his seeming displeasure.

"I guess it wasn't Aberforth Dumbledore who dueled You-Know-Who, eh?" Despereaux Barnaud whispered to Neville, gesturing to the older man who had just taken a seat across from Mundungus Fletcher. He had overheard Harry welcome Aberforth, but before then, he would have never known who the man was since he had never attended an Order meeting since Despereaux had joined the Order. Aberforth growled at Fletcher, who continued to smoke his pipe in ignorance, either not knowing or not caring that Aberforth disliked him.

Harry sat quietly with his head in his hands for fifteen more minutes as every member of the Order came in, including the members who did not usually attend, such as Hagrid, Elphias Doge, and Minerva McGonagall. His face was pale, and his eyes were bloodshot, though he hid it well. His scar was throbbing in pain, and had been ever since the previous night after he destroyed the Horcruxes of Voldemort. "Are you all right, Harry?" Hestia Jones questioned, seeing how the younger wizard looked.

"I'm fine, just tired is all." He grinned back at her, seeing that many other people were staring at him strangely, as well. Then, upon seeing that everyone was seated and ready, he smiled at them all, meeting their gaze with his green, bloodshot eyes. "Hello everybody," Harry said, his voice calm and cheerful. "As you can see, all of our members have joined us today. The reason for this is simple; perhaps, Severus or Kylie can better explain?" He looked over to the two Death Eater spies, who sat across from one another in the center of the table.

They looked at each other, and after a short silence, Snape opened his mouth, his voice low. "The Dark Lord will try to take Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the coming days." When Snape finished, there were audible gasps coming from many of the members, each surprised that Voldemort would be attacking the school so soon.

"When will this happen?" Elphias Doge questioned; the wizard looked much older than he did at his close friend, Albus Dumbledore's funeral. His remaining close friend, Dedalus Diggle nodded next to him, wanting to know the information as well, knowing that keeping Hogwarts was Dumbledore's main concern while he was alive.

"We don't know yet." Kylie answered, his voice and demeanor much more pleasant than Snape's was. "He said that it's happening whenever we are summoned next."

"And that is why we are all here." Harry interjected, rising to his feet to pace behind his chair. "We will need a way for the Order to be notified of the attack, since it will happen quickly and on a spur of the moment. Voldemort," He paused when people gasped at the name. "Is obviously hiding the timing of the attack for a reason."

"Quirrell, Crouch, and Peter Pettigrew are the only ones who know, it seems." Kylie opined, looking over to Harry from under his shadowy cloak.

"Pettigrew?" Sirius snapped, rolling his eyes in disgust at the mention of Wormtail's name. He knew that the pair would have their reckoning soon, he just didn't know how much longer he could wait: he would have his vengeance.

"You can listen, wow, how surprising." Snape drawled, as his dislike of Sirius appeared on his sallow face.

"Not the time." Remus muttered to Sirius, preventing the wizard from responding to Snape's comment. There were more important things to discuss, rather than petty childhood rivalries that should have been left in the past.

"Right," Harry continued, seemingly not noticing the exchange between Snape and Sirius. "We'll need to be notified right away when Voldemort decides to attack, but how?"

"It'll need to be fast, we would have a lot of work to do to secure the school's safety." Hermione added, knowing that as a teacher, her main concern was for the students' safety.

"We would need to make sure the students are protected." Headmistress McGonagall stated, unknowingly mimicking Hermione's thoughts from just a moment before.

"That's exactly right." Harry nodded in agreement, knowing that those poor children didn't deserve to be left for dead. "Not only does it need to be fast, but it also needs to be discreet. We cannot, nay I will not, risk the lives of you two; the warning needs to be something that you can keep hidden, a secret." He said, looking over to Snape and Kylie.

"We will do what we must, Harry." Kylie said, more than willing to sacrifice his life if it meant that his wife and friends would be able to live in a world without the tyranny of Lord Voldemort.

"What about a Patronus message?" Lilyre Moon suggested, raising a curious eyebrow. While he had knowledge about the patronus message, he had never used it in his life and had only seen it used once before so he didn't know if it would be possible for Kylie or Snape to use.

"That's no good," Wayne Hopkins, Lilyre's best friend replied, shaking his head. "You-Know-Who would surely see them send it."

"He's right." Neville Longbottom responded with a nod, frowning slightly in thought. While he might not have known who Kylie actually was and he might have had his differences with Snape in the past, he didn't want to see either one die. After all, he knew that if the Order was to win the war against Voldemort, the spies would have played a large part in it.

"We can always use your charm, Harry." Kylie said, trying to offer up some suggestions to Harry.

"What charm?" Many of the members asked, curiously.

"It's a charm that, when someone writes something on a piece of paper, allows what was written to show up on another piece that has been charmed or vice versa. It connects two things as a sort of mirror image of each other." Harry answered, distractedly, trying to think of a way to communicate.

"Sort of like the Protean Charm." Hermione mentioned, noting the similarities between two spells. If she had to wager a guess, she'd say that Harry had gotten the idea for the charm from the Protean Charm and just made small changes to it in the creation of his charm—that was how many of the new spells, charms, and curses came about.

"The Protean Charm?" Harry asked in a strange tone, his gaze firmly placed on the wall that was on the other side of the room.

"You remember what the Protean Charm is, don't you, Harry? We studied it in our sixth year." Terry Boot inquired, wondering how Harry could forget such a powerful and memorable charm. He knew that Harry had studied it since they were in the same sixth year Charm class as Ravenclaws.

"I don't think that's what he meant." Tonks replied, knowing the look that was in her husband's eyes. She had witnessed it many times over their years together, whenever he would get an idea—he was toying with it in his mind, solving the problem that was plaguing his thoughts.

"Aye?" Mundungus Fletcher murmured, apparently awakening form his pipe induced stupor.

The thought of Mundungus counting his money suddenly flashed into Harry's mind, bringing with it an idea that Harry hoped to flesh out. "Galleons." Harry muttered again, this time to the confusion and frustration of many of the Order members. They began to talk quietly amongst themselves, the main conversation having stalled for a brief moment, until Harry smiled and turned his attention back to the group. "I got it." He said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a knut, two galleons, and five sickles, plus some lint and a muggle rubber band. He placed them all on the table, earning looks of questioning from the others.

"What's that for?" Sturgis Podmore inquired, raising an eyebrow as he moved forward in his seat to get a better look at Harry.

"Everyone, take out whatever's in your pocket, except the things that are personal to you." Harry ordered with a look mischief on his face, a look that reminded Remus and Sirius so much of James.

They all did what they were told. Many of them had at least a few sickles on them, a few of them more than a single galleon on them, as well as other eclectic items, such as quills, pocket watches, crumpled up pieces of parchment, and discarded wrappers of candy. Many members looked at Mundungus with disgust as the wizard pulled out what seemed to be a handful of garbage; muggle tobacco was mixed in with used tissues, already chewed gum, and interestingly enough, a rabbit's foot.

"Does everyone have a sickle on them?" Harry questioned, knowing that the silver coin was the most common form of currency that people carried: it wasn't as cheap as a knut, nor as expensive as a galleon. "Everyone, send them down to me, I have an idea." Seeing many skeptical faces, he sighed. "I will reimburse you all, do not worry."

They all sent down a sickle, and for the few people who didn't have one, Harry waved it off and added all of his to the collective. When he had enough for every Order member to have one, he put all of the sickles into a pile on the table in front of him, with the exception of two, which he separated from the rest. "The Death Eater's Dark Mark that is placed upon them is a corrupted version of the Protean Charm that was created by Voldemort." Harry recited, taking his wand out from his robes, preparing himself to charm the sickles. "While I disagree with Voldemort's twisting of it, the Protean Charm can be especially powerful when it's used in its proper form. Like I mentioned, I also have another version of the Protean Charm that I call it the Appearian Charm; really, the only difference is the fact that in my charm, the information disappears off of each copy and reappears on the other charmed object—making them both able to send and receive information."

He twisted his wand and ran it over the entire mound of coins, whispering "Proteus Mercurie," all the while. The coins all glowed white for a second, before they dimmed down and returned to their natural state. He picked up one of the coins and touched the tip of his wand down onto another that was separated from the pile. Just as he expected, the coin in his hand burned white hot. "Perfect. These coins will notify us of when Voldemort is attacking Hogwarts; when they burn, it's when the attack is going to come."

"What happens if we lose them?" Neville Longbottom asked, somewhat embarrassedly. He remembered when his grandmother sent him a Remembrall during his first year at Hogwarts to help him with his memory—it didn't work, as he would always forget what he had forgotten in the first place when the ball would turn red to signify that he had forgotten something.

"Don't." Harry answered, simply, not having any other answer. He ran his wand over the pile of coins again, transfiguring their normal appearance slightly: the coins now had the head of a stag on one side. Harry hoped that the slight variation would prevent any of the members from using the coins to purchase something like a normal sickle. "And to finish it off," He whispered, touching the two coins that were separated from the rest with his wand tip—he changed them into the master copies, the only ones that could update the coins. He didn't want the regular coins to be used if they were found by anyone else; he wanted to protect the Order as best as he could. He grabbed the two master copies and said, "Everyone except Severus and Kylie take one."

Sirius and Cedric, who were both sitting opposite each other, took half of the coins each and passed them down their respective sides of the table. Meanwhile, Harry walked over to Kylie and handed him his master copy, and then slid the other across to Snape. "All you have to do is touch your wand to the coin and it'll alert the others." He said in a low voice, and then louder added, "The coins will continue to burn until you touch your wand to them to acknowledge that you got the message. Keep it on you at all times."

"What's with the stag?" Gaetana Robards asked, running a hand over the emblem.

"It's to differentiate our coin from a real one. Plus," He smiled to the group. "It's my Patronus." And my father's animagus form, he thought to himself with a laugh.

Broderick Bode took his coin and put it into his right pants pocket, and then passed the pile to Sturgis Podmore, who was sitting next to him. "So what do we do when the coins heat up and we get the message?" The Unspeakable asked, wondering what Harry had in mind.

"Good question," Harry pondered, biting his lip. "How about we all come here? I'll have a portkey ready so we can just grab it and go as quickly as possible." He looked down the table, seeing McGonagall. "I would imagine the Hogwarts Professors that we have in our midst will just stay at Hogwarts. Also, I will need the Hogwarts password for the portkey, Minerva, whenever you get the chance."

"No problem, Harry." McGonagall nodded, willing to hand over Hogwarts' most guarded secret to Harry, someone that she trusted with the safety of the school above all others.

"I will be going straight to Hogwarts, as well." Aberforth Dumbledore muttered, turning his hatred-filled gaze from Mundungus to Harry.

Harry agreed with a nod of his head, but stayed silent. Just then, Andromeda Tonks came walking down the stairs, and Harry turned his attention over to her, giving his mother-in-law a smile. Andromeda had an older-looking muggle camera hanging around her neck as she took her spot next to Harry. "I know we should have done this sooner, but we need to take a picture of the Order." Harry mentioned, wanting to remember the brave faces of all those who opposed Lord Voldemort and his dark servants. He walked over to the open space behind the table, gesturing for everyone to gather around.

They all did as they were told, with Hagrid standing right behind Harry, as he towered over everyone with his half-giant size. Remus, Sirius, and Shacklebolt stood on one end, while Dedalus Diggle, Elphias Doge, Broderick Bode, and Sturgis Podmore stood on the other. Tonks, Gaetana, and Hermione stood on the right side of Harry, with Cedric and Viktor on the other. In between Viktor and Remus stood the four Weasleys, Lilyre Moon, Wayne Hopkins, Neville Longbottom, and Despereaux Barnaud. Hestia Jones and Emmeline Vance stood next to Hermione, with Minerva McGonagall, Severus Snape, and Kylie filling out the space between Vance and Dedalus Diggle. Finally, Mudungus Fletcher and Aberforth stood in the back row next to Hagrid, each filling out a spot between the heads of people in the front row.

"Is everyone ready?" Andromeda questioned, looking at the group through the camera.

"Wait!" Gaetana said, as she looked over to the corner of the room, where Dobby had just apparated in, holding a pitcher of pumpkin juice. She smiled at the house-elf, and said, "Dobby come here, you deserve to be in this picture just as much as us."

"I does, miss Robards?" Dobby questioned, his tennis ball-like eyes filling with tears.

"Of course, Dobby, you've done so much for us." Harry agreed, disappointed that he completely forgot about the small elf. "Come here, right in front of me." Harry gestured, watching as the elf levitated the pitcher onto the table and bustled over to Harry.

"Can Dobby be apart of the great wizards and witches of the Phoenix, master Sirius, sir?" Dobby questioned, pausing for a second as he looked over to Sirius.

"Dobby, you don't have to ask that." Sirius grinned, shaking his head. No matter how many times Sirius told the little elf that he was his own person and that he wasn't a slave, the elf still questioned whether he could do something or not. He laughed when Dobby took his spot in front of Harry, but wasn't tall enough to even reach up to Harry's thigh.

"Here we go, say quaffle." Andromeda said, bringing her finger down on the camera's button.

"Quaffle!" Nearly all the members of the Order said, happily, as the flash went off, capturing their faces for the rest of time.

Harry laughed when George groaned that he had closed his eyes when the flash went off, and when he begged to take another picture, everyone denied him. "Well, I guess…I guess that's it until the coins heat up. If another raid happens between now and that time, I'll notify you, but I don't think the Dark Lord will risk losing his Death Eaters." Harry said, knowing that it was all coming to an end soon, whether for good or bad.

Laughter came from many of the Order members as George still moaned in sadness, who then began to head towards the stairs to leave after Harry's proclamation. Minerva McGonagall walked up to Harry and patted him on the shoulder, earning his attention. "Potter, I trust you know how to create a portkey into Hogwarts?"

"Yes," Harry nodded, meeting McGonagall's gaze. "Albus taught me; he just never gave me the password, though I'm sure you have changed it since you've taken the Headmistress post."

"I have," McGonagall replied; then, getting on her tiptoes, she whispered into his ear, "The password is Earwax Bean."

"Thank you." Harry grinned, noticing that Sirius was done rounding up the people that Harry had wanted to see after the meeting. He stood a few feet away, politely waiting his turn to talk to Harry. "How is Herald doing?" He questioned the older witch, referencing her nephew, Herald McGonagall.

"He's doing as well as he can, given the situation that he is in over there." McGonagall answered honestly. "I take it that you have heard about his injury?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded, frowning slightly. "I floo called him after Albus' death, asking him if he could come help, and he relayed to me what was going on. He also flooed me before Christmas to wish me a happy holiday, and we spoke about his injuries. Brutal, brutal stuff is happening over there." McGonagall agreed, and then she bid him goodbye and left up the stairs, while Harry turned his attention to the Order members that Sirius asked to stay.

The eight members sat back down at the table; they included Sirius, Cedric, Hermione, Kylie, Remus, Snape, Kingsley, and of course, Harry himself. Tonks had gone upstairs with her mother to speak with her father, and while Harry had told her she could come back down when she was done, she declined. "I imagine that this will be, no matter if we win or lose, the last Order of the Phoenix meeting. Its all coming to an end, we all realize that, and if we do not win the battle for Hogwarts, I fear it is all over for our cause for a long time."

"And why is no one else here?" Hermione questioned with a raised eyebrow as she gazed around at the empty seats.

"Because this is a very special meeting, one that will shed light on what we all must do. I view you all as the most trusted and powerful of all the members, and I count on you all to do so much, perhaps too much." He stopped and looked at each of them in the eyes, except for Kylie, whose face was still masked by the shadows created by his hood. "We all know that a fight between Voldemort and I is coming soon; we can't keep dodging each other forever. However, there are things that I need done before then: Kylie, I presume you remember how I told you before that the snake Nagini must die. Severus, I'm pretty sure you knew about this from Dumbledore, correct?" They both nodded their heads slowly, silently asking for Harry to continue. "When Voldemort attacks, that is when the snake needs to die: no sooner, no later."

Snape nodded, while Kylie voiced a question, wanting to make sure he had all the information he needed. "How should we kill the snake? It's a Horcrux, is it not? Will a Killing Curse work?"

"That's what I'm here to discuss." Harry admitted in an even tone, having anticipated such a question. "If I understand correctly from reading Dumbledore's notes that he left me, dark magic tomes about Horcruxes, and my own personal knowledge, I believe that you need to kill her and then dismember the body. You see, there are two souls inside: Voldemort's own, which makes her seem smarter than other snakes, and the snake's essence itself. If you kill her with the Killing Curse, that will only kill one soul; you need to destroy the body in order to destroy the Horcrux. The Venom Strike Curse should work, you know, 'Velehieb'. If not, use the Fiendfyre Curse as a last resort."

"You have to sort of hook your wand before you poke it at the object for the Venom Strike Curse to work, don't you?" Kylie questioned again, having only a working knowledge of the curse.

"Yes," Harry agreed, nodding his head slightly.

"It sounds easy enough." Kylie replied, inwardly not as confident as he wanted to show on his exterior. While it was true that he was scared of dying, he was more scared of failing, which was something that he knew the Order of the Phoenix and Harry could not afford.

"As for the Malfoys, Severus, you have taken care of things, correct?" Harry inquired, looking over to the potions master.

"They have just recently moved out of my house and into the Spungen's estate in the Scottish highlands." Snape replied, having watched them pack up and leave Spinner's End just days before.

"The Spungens, you mean as in the Spungen twins that are dating Wayne Hopkins and Lilyre Moon?" Cedric asked, remembering the two girls that attended Roger's funeral. He also knew how much Lilyre Moon hated Draco Malfoy—they had almost gotten into a fist fight when Draco was at Grimmauld Place.

"Lucius Malfoy's mother is Tanaquil Spungen, the matriarch of the family." Kylie answered, knowing that the Spungen line was an ancient line and the Malfoys would be well protected at their estate.

"Very well, I promised Draco their safety and I was just making sure every thing was in order." Harry said, pausing as he gathered his thoughts. "And…if I should perish against Voldemort," Harry began somberly after the moment of silence, as the others looked on, startled by the topic of conversation. "Cedric shall take over the leadership of the Order of the Phoenix, with Sirius continuing his role as second in command. I have made the proper arrangements to make sure you all receive the information that you need, knowledge that was passed down from Dumbledore to me, and will then be passed down onto all of you should that be necessary."

"If…if that's what you want, Harry." Cedric murmured, hoping that it would never come to that. He couldn't bear the thought of losing another friend, especially not his best friend Harry. If he lost Harry, he didn't know how he would react, but he could guess that it would be eerily similar to the way Sirius reacted after James' death.

"It is." Harry ordered, and then turned his attention back to Kylie and Snape, remembering another task he needed them to perform in addition to killing Nagini. "I need you two to also get the captives of Voldemort out, as well. I fear that if they're still there when the Death Eaters begin to retreat should Voldemort fall, the Death Eaters will kill them. I know I'm asking a lot from you, but it needs to be done—Florean Fortescue, Ollivander, and whoever else they have locked away do not deserve to be left to rot and die."

"I will make sure it is done without alerting suspicion should the Order fail to destroy Voldemort before he takes Hogwarts." Snape said, throwing an insult Kylie's way. He doubted Kylie would be clever enough to prevent Voldemort from learning about the pair freeing his prisoners, instead believing himself the far superior intellect.

"Why did Voldemort take Fortescue? Ollivander I can understand, he needed the man to make wands for the Azkaban escapees, but what could Fortescue possibly offer?" Remus questioned the group, wondering what Fortescue's importance was.

"Even we question that." Kylie answered with a sigh, having discussed it with Snape once before. "Rosier told me that the Dark Lord used to pay Fortescue's home a visit nearly every day, but when Dumbledore died, it abruptly ended. I didn't know about it until a few weeks ago, so I don't know if it is true or not."

Harry cocked an eyebrow at that piece of information. That seemed strange to him, Voldemort randomly visiting Fortescue's house; what was there that was important enough for Voldemort to travel there personally? "Interesting," Harry muttered, wondering just what it was that Voldemort was doing with Fortescue.

"If you have nothing else to say, Potter," Snape started, rising to his feet; his greasy black hair curtaining his sallow face. "I must be getting back to Hogwarts as I have something to take care of." He said, unintentionally and unknowingly patting his cloak's pocket, which hid Dumbledore's wand that he had gathered from the Death Eater meeting earlier in the day.

"Right," Harry nodded, watching as the bat-like teacher walked up the stairs with his bellowing black robes. He remembered the days when he used to hate Snape, back when he was in his early years at Hogwarts; it wasn't until Harry was in Snape's NEWT class did the man start to see that he wasn't his father, that his eyes weren't there to haunt him like he had thought when Harry first arrived at Hogwarts. Now, Harry couldn't help but accept who and what Snape was, and appreciate him for all the help he gave Harry in both potions and in the fight against Voldemort.

"I'll be sure to send the message via the coin as soon as I can." Kylie said, as he wrapped his cloak around his body, knowing that it would be cold outside as he walked towards Diagon Alley. He liked walking rather than apparating sometimes, living without magic was refreshing; it made him appreciate everything that he had in life. Remus and Hermione left to Hogwarts right after, while Kingsley left to go back to his Auror duties, leaving Harry and Sirius alone at the table.

"You're staying for lunch, aren't you?" Sirius asked, looking over to his godson.

"Yes," Harry answered, moving to a seat across from Sirius, not wanting to sit at the head of the table for the meal. He poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice from the jug that was in the center of the table, nestled next to ten empty glasses. He hoped that the cold drink would cool his headache and fever, which he knew was from the pain that his scar was inflicting upon him.

Meanwhile, he noticed that for the first time in a long, long time, no one from the Order other than those who were close to Sirius was at Grimmauld Place for lunch—it was very, very rare that the members of the Order who worked at the Ministry didn't stop by for the meal. Harry couldn't help but think it was because people were afraid that they were going to die, and presumably, wanted to spend time with their families or significant others. "I have summoned the Tonks', mister Sirius, sir." Dobby bowed, appearing next to the older wizard. "Lunch will be ready in a few moments."

"Thank you, Dobby." Sirius said to his house elf with a smile, as he too poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice.

Just then, the door at the top of the stairs opened and down walked Andromeda and Ted Tonks, followed by Nymphadora, and then Emmeline Vance. Both Harry and Sirius smiled at the foursome, gesturing for them to take seats around them; Emmeline sat next to Sirius, while Andromeda, Ted, and Nymphadora all sat next to Harry. "Hi Harry." Ted said, patting the younger wizard on the back in affection.

"Hi," Harry replied, giving his father-in-law a large smile. He rubbed his scar once more as a ping of pain ran through it, making his vision blurry for a brief moment. He was distracted from the pain during the meeting, but now that the rush of concentration needed in order to make sure that he said everything he needed to was gone, the pain had resumed ten fold.

Dobby flicked his fingers, and plates appeared in front of everyone. With another flick of his fingers, a large bowl of lamb and lentil stew appeared on each of the plates, with a basket full of cheddar biscuits placed in the middle of the table for all to enjoy. "Thank you, Dobby." Emmeline said, taking in the mouth watering scent of the biscuits with a flare of her nostrils.

"It's delicious as always, Dobby." Sirius said, taking the first spoonful of stew into his mouth. Dobby smiled, bowed, and apparated away, allowing the wizards and witches to enjoy his hard work. "Harry, when you were talking about your friend Herald, what were you talking about exactly?"

"You mean when I said brutal, brutal stuff?" Sirius nodded and grabbed a biscuit. "Well, I called for him to come and help here, but he was busy fighting the forces of his own evil wizard." Sirius cocked an eyebrow, motioning for Harry to continue. "He's fighting a rogue alchemist and his acolytes. Apparently, the alchemist thinks the secret to the Philosopher's Stone is in the souls of wizarding folk, so people are being taking all of the time."

"Where is this?" Emmeline asked, having never heard about it. She was pretty up to date on worldly affairs, having lived in Scotland as a child, attended Freyjavangr for her schooling in Norway, and Denmark during her holidays as a teen. She moved to England with her parents just under twenty years ago, when she herself was twenty years old.

"Australia." Harry answered, taking a scoop of stew into his mouth. "I don't know the whole story; I don't really talk to him anymore."

"How did you meet him in the first place?" Sirius inquired, trying to remember if Harry had ever mentioned anything about Herald before. He knew the name from somewhere, he just couldn't place it.

Harry tipped the salt shaker over his stew and gave it a few good thrusts, before placing it back down onto the table. "When I traveled the world after I turned of age, McGonagall suggested that I go and see him, knowing that he could teach me a thing or two."

"So he's good?" Emmeline asked, just trying to make conversation with Harry. Over the time that Sirius and her had gotten close, she learned that if she really wanted to be with Sirius, she would need to love Harry because he was the most important person in Sirius' life.

"He's a very capable wizard, yes." Harry agreed, knowing that Herald was a very talented wizard like his aunt Minerva, being nearly equal to a Sirius or a Snape in terms of smarts and skills.

"Is he as good as you?" Sirius smiled, not realizing that he was putting Harry on a pedestal that perhaps his godson didn't necessarily like.

"He's not that good." Nymphadora answered for Harry, smiling at her husband. Harry gave her a smile in return, but one could see that it didn't quite reach his soul. It was one of those times that made Harry uncomfortable: when people insinuated that he was a better wizard than what he actually was.

Emmeline smiled at what Nymphadora said, admiring the love that the pair shared, and then asked, "How old is he?"

Harry shrugged, not really knowing—everyone was acting like Herald was his best friend, when in fact he was just an associate who Harry respected immensely. "I think he went to Hogwarts either right before or right after Sirius did."

"That's a fourteen year difference." Andromeda laughed, which seemed to be infectious as it made the rest laugh as well.

They went silent for a while after that, all of them enjoying their stew. Before long, Dobby had made the plates and bowls disappear with a snap of his fingers and with another snap, dessert was served. It was a simple bowl of pudding with chocolate sprinkles, but with Dobby's cooking skills, it made for a delicious treat.

"I have something to show you that I think you'll be interested in, Harry." Sirius mentioned, motioning for his godson to follow him upstairs. They walked up to the main floor, and then up to the second floor, stopping on the landing for a brief moment. "I found a book in my library, one that could answer the questions we had about your family tree at Christmas." Sirius informed Harry, opening up the library doors and walking over to the wooden table on the other side of the room that had a large book placed down in the middle. "It's called Ancient Genealogies: A Wizard's Guide to Marriage, I didn't see it before because it was tucked away behind some other books. Apparently, my ancestors used to use it to pick out who was worthy of marriage and who wasn't."

"Yeah," Harry said, his green eyes flicking down to the torn and dirtied paper. He rubbed his scar with his right hand, the pain from the cursed lightning bolt patch of skin becoming nearly too much for him to handle. It seemed to be getting worse, he noted, with each passing minute bringing more and more pain, though he continued to try and hide it.

Sirius flipped to the middle of the book, and then turned it towards Harry, pointing down to the opened page. "You were right: all three Peverells did have children; each had at least one daughter, with Ignotus having three." Harry nodded, reading the faded writing, though it was hard to decipher the text due to the age of the book. "Antioch, the oldest brother, had only one daughter, who married a wizard named William Lancaster, and the line continued until the 1600's when it became the Dumbledore line."

"Aberforth's the only one left from that entire line." Harry said, turning the page and seeing that the chapter was all about the Peverells. His eyes struggled to bring the print in focus due to the pain from his scar, but after closing and opening his eyes back up, he managed to read the text.

"Ignotus, the youngest brother, had three daughters but the middle daughter Perpetua was the only one to have children of her own." Sirius said, not noticing Harry's pain. "She married Bowman Wright, and bore your ancestor Dryope Wright, who then married Janus Potter. The Potter line is obviously still around; unlike the other lines, the Potters would often fall out of the pureblood ranks by infusing more muggleborns or half bloods into the family, keeping the family sane and wealthy. That's why your family has been one of the more successful ones—that and the fact that the Potters have a knack of only having one child, a son to carry on the name."

"How did you find this out?" Harry asked, amazed by the information, albeit not as much as he would have been if his scar wasn't throbbing like it was.

"I'm not done yet," Sirius smiled, knowing that what he was about to say would interest Harry even more. "The middle brother, Cadmus, well his only daughter Avice, married a wizard who's last name was Sampford, his first name being unknown. Now, that line and name continued until Maud Sampford married Barron Hess in 1526, which ended the Sampford male line. She bore Barron a single son, Mafold Hess, who then went on to marry his only cousin, Medea Hess, starting the family bloodline which would eventually drive the family into poverty and insanity. The Hess name died in 1713, when Matilda Hess married a rich member of the ancient Gaunt family and had a son, Mafold Gaunt, who was named after his ancestor—Mafold Gaunt was Voldemort's five times great (great, great, great, great, great) grandfather. Incidentally, that was the last and only time the family had an infusion of non-familiar blood into their line."

"Where's the Slytherin family in all of this?" Harry questioned, his brows furrowed in thought.

"Hess." Sirius answered simply. "Before he married Maud, he came from out of nowhere, his name not appearing in any history book, yet the Sampford's allowed him into their bloodline? Something's not right there, unless he had something that proved his heritage, something that would make them overlook his rather limited notoriety."

"Slytherin's locket." Harry nodded with a dawning look on his face. "They probably didn't care if he was pureblooded or not, they just wanted to be able to link their name to the Slytherin line."

"Exactly." Sirius replied in agreement, and then pointed to a line of text next to Barron Hess' name that he found intriguing. Harry looked down at it and cocked an eyebrow, surprised by what it said. It read: Barron Hess, who came from a fen. Sirius nodded when he saw Harry's eyes light up, knowing that coming from a fen was what Salazar Slytherin was known for: the epithet was clearly meant to show in a subtle way that Hess hailed from Slytherin's line. "Apparently, he went to Freyjavangr and moved to Great Britain, married Maud, but died before his son was born."

"Freyjavangr?" Harry asked with a sigh, shaking his head in bemusement. "Merlin, before you escaped from Azkaban, I had only heard about that place once before, but now? Now I hear it all the time, first with the Nigels, then with Emmeline, and just two days ago I saw a book about the history of the school in the trunk that Dumbledore gave me. Its like fate is trying to tell me something."

Sirius gave Harry a questioning glance, wondering what his godson had meant by that. "What do you mean?"

"I just mean," Harry sighed again, though this was more in pain, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "That it's a big coincidence that I keep hearing about this school, but before recently, I had only heard it in passing from Dumbledore, who was meeting with its Headmistress during my sixth year."

"Or maybe you're just more attuned to hearing it now that you consciously know about it?" Sirius suggested, trying to help Harry out.

"No, it's more than that." Harry shook his head in the negative, knowing that there was something deeper to it. "It's like that Chariot of Light thing; it has to be more than that."

Sirius looked down at the book, not really knowing where Harry was going with this. "Like what?" He asked after a few more seconds of silence.

"I have no idea." Harry answered, and then his face took on a pensive look, as if he was hit with an idea. "Wait a minute, Hess from Freyjavangr? He married his wife in 1526? He was related to Slytherin? He came to Great Britain?" Harry rambled, gaining a train of thought that seemed much too familiar. "When did you say that the Chariot of Light fought their Dark Lord?"

"They fought in the 1500s." Sirius answered slowly, wondering if he was thinking the same thing Harry was. "It couldn't be, could it?"

They were both figuring out that the Dark Lord that the Chariot of Light, the precursor to the Order of the Phoenix fought was none other than Lord Voldemort's ancestor. In their minds, he had come to Great Britain for the sole purpose of taking Hogwarts, which he thought was his rightful property, having been an heir of Slytherin. The Chariot managed to defeat him, somehow, someway, though neither really understood what had happened in any depth. Could that be why Dumbledore left me that Chariot of Light reference, Harry thought to himself as they began to walk back down to the basement. Is that why I've been hearing about Freyjavangr and the Chariot of Light so much?

"Where did you guys go?" Ted Tonks questioned, reading the Daily Prophet as he drank a cup of tea.

"Just upstairs." Sirius smiled as they retook their seats.

"Emmeline, you went to Freyjavanjr, correct?" Harry asked the blonde haired witch, raising a questioning eyebrow. He remembered her stating with pride that her family had been around since the creation of the Norse school after Bellatrix had accused her of being a mudblood that night when Voldemort infiltrated the Ministry to steal the prophecy.

"Yes, I did, why?" She replied, wondering what Harry wanted to know that for.

The younger wizard looked at Emmeline with his green gaze and then asked, "Who created the school?"

"I don't know." Emmeline admitted with a shrug, an apologetic look on her face. "It's a bit shady, it's not like Hogwarts with Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff; there's just a legend that says it was started by an old man and his son."

Harry bit his lip, wondering himself where he was going with this. "No name at all?"

"No." Emmeline shook her head, frowning in disappointment that she couldn't answer Harry's question.

Nymphadora, meanwhile, got to her feet and gave her mother a kiss on the cheek. "I should be getting home; I need to get things ready."

"Oh, right, that's today, isn't?" Andromeda questioned her daughter, referencing the get-together that Tonks was having for Lisa and her friends.

"It originally wasn't, but with, well, you know, everything happening with the You-Know-Who and Hogwarts, I wanted to make sure that we all got together, just in case." Tonks replied, having moved the small party up a few days in anticipation of the attack on Hogwarts. "You should come, mom."

"Understandable. As for me coming, well, I'll be there, hunny." Andromeda replied with a smile, and after saying their goodbyes, she watched as her daughter and her son-in-law walked up the stairs and out of the house.

Three hours after Tonks and Harry left Grimmauld Place found Lord Voldemort sitting in a large, stone chair, with a book opened on his lap and Nagini on his shoulders. He flipped through the pages of a biography of Gellert Grindelwald, trying to find some place where the wizard could have lost the Elder Wand. His visit to Gregorovitch days prior had been successful; he had found out that a young Grindelwald had stolen the wand from the wandmaker back in the early twentieth century. As he continued to flip the pages, he came upon a picture of Grindelwald that was taken in 1945, right before his duel with Dumbledore—Grindelwald's hood was down, allowing Voldemort to see his face for the first time.

The Dark Lord's eyes went wide when he realized who Grindelwald was, what his face actually looked like. "He was the old man!" He screamed out, unbridled rage filling his body. He rose from his chair and marched out of the room and down the stone hallways until he reached the dungeon chamber. He walked past the two sets of metal armor that stood on opposite sides of the doorway, opened the door, and entered the small, dark, stone chamber.

The four prisoners coiled back in fear, their hands protecting their eyes from the light that shined in through the doorway. They all tried not to meet Voldemort's eyes, knowing that if they did, they would be tortured until their eyes couldn't stay opened anymore. Voldemort looked down at the miserable foursome, his gaze pausing on an old man with a mane of wild gray hair. "Where is Grindelwald, Ollivander?" Voldemort hissed, dangerously, as he towered over the older wandmaker.

The old man's silver gaze moved down to the floor, a look of defeat entering his eyes. "I don't….I don't know!" He moaned, too tired to answer in a stronger tone.

"Where is he? He challenged me; Lord Voldemort has seen him in the country with his own eyes!" Voldemort spat, his eyes wide with such anger that Ollivander did not think he'd survive if he disappointed the Dark Lord.

"I don't know where he could be, please, I'm telling the truth." Ollivander begged, hoping the Dark Lord would spare him.

"Bagshot." A gaunt man with thinning auburn hair croaked from the corner, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes were deep in their sockets, and he looked as if he had been punched in each eye. "When he last came here, he lived in the Bagshot house in Godric's Hollow."

"You better hope he's there, Fortescue." Voldemort sneered, and then turned on his heels and walked out of the dark room, slamming the door behind him.

"What have we done?" Ollivander questioned the three other prisoners, who all stayed silent, too weak to think about it.

Harry Potter sat in his library couch, reading the purple dark arts spell book that he had began reading a few days prior. He had learned about a few new curses and hexes that he didn't know about, which he hoped to use in his battle against Voldemort when the time came. Unfortunately, however, his learning was slowed due to his scar; his head, specifically right behind his scar, was pounding in pain, forcing him to take a break from looking at the small print of the book. Just as he closed his eyes, his headache overcoming him, he at once realized that he was not in his own body.

He was in Voldemort's mind; he was walking up a familiar pathway to a small house in Godric's Hollow. He surprisingly knocked on the door, fondling his yew wand in his right hand, his black hood masking his true appearance. An old woman answered the door, saying, "Yes?"

Before she could react, a flash of green erupted from the Dark Lord's wand, killing the woman instantly; her dead corpse fell to the ground in a crumpled heap. An old man came out from the back room, his brown eyes looking down at his aunt with a tinge of sadness in them, knowing that he was at fault for her death. "Voldemort," Gellert Grindelwald nodded, his gaze flicking over to the coffee table in the center of the room—his wand was lying underneath of it, where he left it before he went to make dinner.

"The Elder Wand, Grindelwald." Voldemort hissed, stepping over Bathilda Bagshot's body disrespectfully and entering the house.

"I don't have it, it doesn't exist." Grindelwald muttered in response as he inched closer to the table, hoping that he would be able to lunge for his wand and protect himself.

"You lie!" Voldemort screamed, blasting the table with a curse, which immediately disintegrated in a shower of wood chips. "Lord Voldemort knows! Lord Voldemort always knows!"

"I don't have it." Grindelwald repeated, now just a foot away from his wand that had been seemingly untouched by the curse. He knew that Voldemort knew what he was doing and would probably stop him, but he was still going to try and get his wand, to try and defend himself. "That doesn't mean I never had it, I did, but I snapped it. It's destroyed, gone, lost to the world."

"Lord Voldemort's patience with you Grindelwald is running low; now tell me where the wand is!" Voldemort sneered, looking at the former Dark Lord with his crimson red gaze. "Or else I will force the truth out of you."

"I am telling you the truth." Grindelwald replied, a calmness to his voice that not many would have if in the same situation. He wasn't afraid of death, nor did he fear the Dark Lord and he would not pretend that he did. "I snapped it before I began my duel with Dumbledore in 1945, that's why I lost and was beaten."

"Give me the wand and I will not destroy you. Tell me the truth!" Voldemort yelled, grabbing Grindelwald's face with his spidery fingers and forcing Grindelwald to make eye contact with him.

Voldemort, and by proxy Harry, saw images of Gellert's life, then he saw the moments right before Dumbledore dueled him. "I will not fight you with this cursed wand, friend." Grindelwald called out to Dumbledore, and then with a quick flinching of his fist, the wand cracked in half as if it was a measly stick. "And after I defeat you, I will not need the wand any more, either."

Voldemort pulled out of Grindelwald's mind after seeing the memory, apparently taking what he saw as fact, believing people incapable of lying to him. "You will die for that." He sneered in disdain, angry that the Wand of Destiny would not be his.

"Kill me, then. Voldemort, I welcome death! I do not fear it, but my demise will not bring you what you seek. I do not fear death." Gellert laughed, mocking Voldemort's unbridled hatred for death and his fear of dying. He goaded the Dark Lord, knowing that if Voldemort were to learn the truth about the Elder Wand, Dumbledore's tomb would be desecrated and he would be nearly impossible to stop. "There is so much you do not understand, so much you do not know"

"Then you are a fool." Voldemort hissed, affronted at the fact that Grindelwald was staring death right in the face but yet he did not move to prevent it. Weakling, Voldemort thought to himself with a sneer.

"I'll be seeing you soon, Voldemort, when Harry defeats you." Grindelwald grinned as he watched Voldemort flick his wand and a jet of green light rushed towards him. Good luck, Potter, he thought as his life was extinguished and he fell to the ground, dead.

Voldemort looked down at Grindelwald's body with disgust before turning and walking towards the door. The tip of his wand glowed a bright orange, and he gestured with it towards the drapes that were covering the windows and they immediately exploded into flames. He walked out of the house as it began to burn, and when he reached the street, he gave one last look at the house before disapparating away.

Harry was jolted back into his own body with a gasp. He quickly grabbed his wand, ran out of his house and past the wards, and apparated to Godric's Hollow, which was on the other side of the mountain. He appeared in front of the Bagshot house and immediately rushed inside, extinguishing as many of the flames as he could as soon as he arrived; the entire window was destroyed, completely charred by the fire. While flames still licked at the window, they were not spreading to the rest of the house just yet, so he turned his attention to getting the bodies out of the home.

"Potter, you must take him!" A portrait yelled from the corner of the room, trying to get Harry's attention. Harry looked over to where he heard the voice, recognizing it as the former Headmaster Bagshot, the man that had given Grindelwald information ever since his arrival in Great Britain. "The Aurors will arrive soon, and if they find his body, chaos will ensue. There are people within the Ministry who will make him into something that he wasn't."

"What about Bathilda?" Harry asked, looking over to the older woman on the floor near the entrance. He knew that the Headmaster was right, that if people found Grindelwald's body, the wizarding world would lose confidence in the Ministry's ability to protect them and Voldemort would gain power as a result. He couldn't allow that to happen, even if he had to break some of his beliefs and morals to prevent it.

"Leave her. She will be buried in the family plot, while Gellert will not be." He replied sorrowfully, knowing it was just a few minutes until the Ministry Officials would start to arrive. He watched as Harry bent down and put a hand on Gellert's unmoving chest, preparing himself for departure. "Take my portrait, as well."

"What?" Harry questioned, taken aback by the portrait's request.

"I am more help to you than I am to anyone else." He admitted, looking over Harry's shoulder to make sure no one was coming into the home. "The only Bagshots that are left, the ones who will inherit this house, are people I don't know and have never met. I can help you; I can speak to Dumbledore's portrait just like Phineas Nigellus Black can. I can watch over Hogwarts and report to you when it is in danger." The Headmaster pleaded to Harry, wanting nothing more than to help the Order vanquish the Dark Lord, the monster that killed his daughter and his great grandson Gellert.

"I…I…" Harry started to speak, clearly confused by all that was happening—his head was still hurting him, too. "Are you sure?"

"Positive." The man smiled, as if he was reciting an already planned out script. Harry nodded and swished his wand over the frame, shrinking it down to where it was small enough to fit into his pocket. He then unhooked it from the wall, placed it in his pocket, and bent down to grab Gellert's body. He created a portkey using a shard of wood from the exploded table and immediately activated it, disappearing with a pull at his naval in an instant.

Meanwhile, just as Ministry Officials began to arrive, Hannah Abbot and the entire Roper family came out of their houses to watch the commotion, each wondering just what had happened. It was eerily reminiscent of the night when Voldemort was first destroyed, the night when Lily and James Potter were murdered and young Harry overcame the Dark Lord. Broderick Bode came out of his house down the street and walked up to the group of neighbors, his eyes drifting over to the front door of the Bagshot house, where Bathilda's body was still sprawled on the ground.

"Do you know what happened, Broderick?" Sophie Roper asked, questioning her neighbor. She was a petite witch, thin and short, with light red hair that was pulled back into a ponytail and light freckles on her button nose. She was a close friend of Neville Longbottom's, and many believed that they would one day end up married, though she didn't know if that was something he wanted.

"No," Broderick shook his head, knowing that whatever had happened wasn't good. He was worried for Bathilda and his other neighbor that lived in the house, whom he knew as a retiree named Gregory.

Harry arrived in Harry's backyard, around a hundred feet away from the house, a few seconds after leaving the Bagshot house. He levitated Gellert's body off of the ground and then walked towards the tree line, knowing that there was an open place in the forest where he could bury the ex-Dark Wizard. "What have I gotten myself into?" Harry asked himself, questioning whether he was doing the right thing. "He did help me." He said, inwardly fighting over what to do. He didn't know if this was right, but he didn't think he had any other choice and his headache wasn't helping the matter, either.

He came to the clearing in the forest: it was only about ten feet in diameter and was nearly fifty feet from the end of his open property. He used his wand to melt the snow that was on the ground, creating a seven foot-by-four foot wide dry spot on the ground. Then, using his wand, he created a hole with the same dimensions, going about six feet deep into the earth. The dirt accumulated onto the snow next to the hole, which Harry would replace once the body was in the grave. Harry took off his blue robe and laid it on top of Grindelwald's body, making sure that the wizard's form was completely covered and protected from the elements. He then levitated the body into the grave, giving a frown all the while. "I'm sorry I can't do better." He whispered, taking a moment of silence for the wizard. "You helped me, you helped the Order, and you may have just helped the world. I hope you found peace with yourself before the end."

He reached down and took a handful of dirt into his right hand, and then gently dropped the dirt onto the body in the grave, trying to honor the fallen wizard. He used his magic to fill in the rest, and after standing over the fresh dirt in silence for a minute or two, he walked over to the tree that stood across from the grave with the intention of creating a grave marker. He stared at the bark for a second, thinking about what to write exactly, and after lighting his wand tip, he burned a headstone into the bark.

G.G.

1883-2003

Underneath that, he drew the symbol of the Deathly Hallows, which was a straight line with a circle on top of the line, both of which were enclosed in a triangle. He loathed drawing it, knowing that so many people had died under the sign when Grindelwald was in power during the 1940s. Still, he did it as a tribute, and then stood back, admiring his handy-work. "Ironic, your death today was truly and honestly for the greater good. You made Voldemort think the Elder Wand was destroyed, and now when I fight him, he won't understand that I have the wand, giving me a greater chance of destroying him."

Harry bowed his head one last time, and then turned around and walked out of the forest, heading towards the backdoor of his house. Trudging through the snow, he rubbed his arms in an effort to keep warm as the wind began to pick up, which sent the loose snow up into the air. He reached the door, turned the bronze knob and let himself in, stomping his feet on the wood to get all of the snow off of his shoes and pants. He heard voices coming from the sitting room, and quietly made his way over, knowing that it was Tonks and her girlfriends.

"Hello everybody," Harry said, his eyes meeting Lisa Davies, Roger's wife. "Lisa." He smiled, trying to show her that he had no hard feelings for what she had said. Gaetana, Hermione, Andromeda, and four other women that Harry didn't recognize (though he knew he had seen them before) all said hi, while Lisa gave him a small wave in return.

"Harry, can I…can I talk to you?" Lisa said, throwing him a questioning glance.

"If it's about what we talked about the last time I saw you, don't worry about it. I completely understand." Harry replied quickly, wanting to go back to the solitude of his library and rest his head; plus, he also wanted to continue his reading.

"Yeah, it's about that…I wanted to apologize." Lisa said, rising to her feet and coming closer to him.

"No need, like I said, I understand." Harry said, rubbing her arm tenderly. "I care about you, I'm not about to hold a grudge. I just hope that our relationship can grow since I want to be apart of Harmony's life."

"I hope you want to be apart of my son's, too." Lisa grinned, rubbing her stomach; Harry could tell that her happiness didn't quite reach her soul and that she missed Roger greatly. She reached out to him and engulfed him in a hug, not wanting there to be any hard feelings between the pair. After talking to Hermione and Viktor, she had realized how idiotic and misplaced her anger at Harry was: the real culprit in all of this was Voldemort. She knew that Roger wanted to fight for her and their family, and she knew that he would have done that, regardless if he was friends with Harry or not. It wasn't Harry that made him into a brave man; all Harry was doing was trying to protect him as best as he could.

"Congratulations on that." Harry returned, kissing her on the cheek. "But you go have fun; I know Tonks has been looking forward to this for a few days now."

"Right," Lisa nodded, and then returned to her seat, joining the ongoing conversation that the women were having.

Harry entered the kitchen and grabbed himself a few cookies that Zeali had baked, and then walked up the stairs, heading for his library. As he reached the landing, his scar erupted in pain and his mind entered Voldemort's again, as if they were the same person, but yet still different. He fell down to the wooden floor with a thud, his nose taking most of the force, making blood spill out and pool around his face.

"There is a spell," Voldemort hissed to Nagini as the snake slithered up towards him. "That will help me destroy the wards of Hogwarts even without the Elder Wand. Lord Voldemort knows where to find this spell."

"Master Harry!" Zeali squealed as his little arms tried to shake Harry awake. Harry's eyes shot open and immediately fell upon Zeali's face, who was staring back at him with concern. "Master Harry, are you okay? Zeali was worried!"

"I'm fine, Zeali." Harry replied, rising to his knees as he used his hand to try and stop the bleeding from his nose.

"Should I go and get mistress Tonks?" The little elf questioned worriedly, looking at his friend and master with his wide, tennis ball-like eyes.

"No, it's okay." Harry muttered, wiping his nose with his sleeve. "I could use a wet towel, though." Zeali nodded, and in an instant disapparated away with a pop. Harry rose to his feet and walked into the library, plopping down onto the couch with his eyes closed.

"Here you are, Mister Harry Potter, sir." Zeali said as he appeared in the room; he put the damp towel in Harry's hand. Harry used one side to wipe the blood off of his face, and then flipped it over onto the cleaner side and placed it on his forehead, draping it over his eyes. He sat there for a while, trying to calm the pain that was coming from his scar—it wouldn't die. He reached into his pocket and grabbed one of the cookies he had picked up from the kitchen, munching on it lightly, hoping that the sugar would help relax his head a bit. "Do you need anything, Harry Potter, sir?" He heard Zeali ask from in front of him.

"Yeah, I could use a glass of something cold." Harry replied, taking another bite of the cookie. After Zeali left, Harry heard an uproar of laughter coming from downstairs, and he wildly swung his wand at the doors in reaction. The wooden doors immediately slammed closed, shutting the library off from the noises of the outside. "SHUT UP!" He yelled in an angry voice, staring blankly out of the window that was across the room, trying to remember what Voldemort had said in his vision. He closed his eyes, and immediately, he was back in Voldemort's mind.

"WHERE IS IT?" Voldemort screamed, knocking all of the books off of a bookshelf that he was standing in front of with a swipe of his hand. His red gaze fell to a book that was sprawled on the floor, and he tilted his skull-like head in wonder, a large, vicious smirk taking its place on his face.

Harry's eyes shot open as Zeali apparated in and placed a large glass of chocolate milk on the wooden coffee table. "Here you are, Master Harry." The house elf said happily, as he smiled up to his master.

"Thank you, Zeali." Harry murmured, taking a large gulp of milk, his head pounding like two large drums. He didn't know how long he sat there, but eventually he got up and walked out of the library, turning to his right and heading towards his bed room, where he unclothed and jumped into the shower. He closed his eyes as the warm water washed over his back, relaxing his tense muscles.

"This is it!" Voldemort hissed to his loyal companion, Nagini. He was staring down at an ancient, jacket bound parchment, its pages ripped and frayed at the edges. "We attack Hogwarts tomorrow, and trust me, it will be mine!"

"What is happening to me?" Harry whispered, as he turned the water from warm to cold, hoping that it would sooth his headache. He turned around and leaned against the tiled wall, allowing the water to run down his front side. He stood there for another half an hour, and when he finally turned the water off, his fingers were pruned and his long black hair was sopping wet. He quickly grabbed a green towel that was on the hook and dried himself off, tying it around his waste as he left the bathroom. The steam escaped from the door when he opened it, and his eyes fell upon his beautiful wife, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, reading a witch gossip magazine. He walked over to her and planted a kiss on her lips, which caught her off guard at first but grew more passionate as they continued to kiss.

"I love you," Tonks said as they both stopped to take a breath, before pulling him onto the bed and continuing to kiss him.

In the middle of the night, Harry rolled over onto his right shoulder, wrapping his arm around Tonks' stomach. "Soon, Nagini, we will have Hogwarts and the Ministry!" He hissed in his sleep, startling Tonks awake. She looked down at her husband for a brief moment, wondering if she had heard something or if she was dreaming, but when he was silent for over a minute, she shrugged and returned back to her sleep.

AN: I've decided that I'm going to write an entirely different story after this one. Its title is going to be Harry Potter and the Turning of the Sun, and it will start a few weeks after the conclusion of the Order of the Phoenix book (meaning it won't be an entire AU.) It will have either Bellatrix Black or Rowena Ravenclaw as the secondary character along with Harry, and will involve time travel. While I have a few chapters of each (the Rowena story and the Bellatrix story) written, I'm still waiting to decide which one I like more. Now, there are no promises that Harry is going to end up with either woman; it's just a matter that either woman is going to be a main character in the story. As for my prequel and sequel ideas, I put a lot of my prequel ideas into this chapter, but I still have an idea for a sequel if Harry survives, so I might also write that.