Disclaimer I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to J K Rowling. Also this story is inspired by 'A Shattered Prophecy' by Project Dark Overlord.

Chapter Fifty Two

"Wait, wait," Remus held up a hand to stop James mid-sentence. "Harry walked into the Ministry of Magic and stole the Hufflepuff cup?" he asked.

"Yeah," James replied unhappily.

"You take a day off from work to recover from your furry little problem, and look at what you miss," Sirius said, although his joke lacked the usual humour.

Remus ignored him. He leant across the table, towards James. "I don't understand, why would Harry do that? Why take such a risk?"

"A very good question," Dumbledore said.

The four wizards gathered around the table in the kitchen of Grimmauld place sat in silence for a moment. Dumbledore took in a deep breath. "I believe I may have a possible answer."

James was hoping that would be the case. That was why he came straight to Dumbledore and told him what Minister Fudge had explicitly forbidden them to voice. He watched as Dumbledore leaned back in his chair tiredly, his blue eyes dull and clouded.

"I think the Hufflepuff cup was one of Voldemort's Horcrux."

The three men tensed. James paled to the hue of a ghost.

"I have no evidence," Dumbledore continued, "but it makes sense. Harry wouldn't risk his life for anything less. He broke into the Ministry of Magic and stole nothing else but the Hufflepuff cup. The only explanation would be that the cup is a Horcrux."

"But how is that possible?" Sirius asked. "How would Voldemort even get to the cup to turn it into a Horcrux?"

"I don't think he had much trouble," Dumbledore said. "We all know Voldemort has many spies. I have always suspected the Ministry to house a number of them. It is possible that Voldemort used them to steal the cup so he could turn it into a Horcrux, before returning it to the Ministry." He shook his head. "It is rather ingenious; Voldemort's Horcrux lying in the heart of the Ministry. The very Aurors trying to destroy him were keeping a part of him safe."

James leant closer to Dumbledore, terrified eyes fixed on him. "You suspect Harry took the cup because he found out it was a Horcrux?"

"I do, yes," Dumbledore replied.

"So...Harry's after the Horcruxes as well," James asked with fear thick in his voice.

"Since Harry left Voldemort, I was wondering what Harry was planning," Dumbledore said with a sigh. "He didn't return to you and Lily. He didn't contact you, except that one phone call. It's obvious Harry felt he couldn't return home because of his past behaviour with you," he said, nodding to James. "Harry can't restart his life in the wizarding world, because now, everyone recognises him as the Dark Prince. As far as I can tell, Harry is not one to run away and live his life as a muggle. Magic means too much to him." He paused. "I don't know why I didn't consider this before. Harry's taking his revenge by going after Voldemort's Horcruxes."

James could feel his heart thump wildly in his chest. Instead of feeling proud or glad that Harry had finally gone against Voldemort, James felt scared. What if Harry was caught by the Death Eaters? What would Voldemort do to him? Snape had reported Voldemort wanted to capture Harry and modify his memories to have him back as the Dark Prince. Voldemort may have raised Harry like a son and wanted him back on his side, but what would the Dark Lord do to Harry once he learned about his missing Horcruxes? James didn't have it in him to even imagine what that monster could do to Harry.

"We have to get to Harry," James said. "We have to get to him before Voldemort does."

"We will," Sirius reassured, holding on to James's arm.

"We must," Dumbledore said. "I'm afraid, Harry's in more danger than before. Once Voldemort finds out Harry is after his Horcruxes, he will do everything in his power to stop him, before it's too late and all his Horcruxes are gone."

"Voldemort's Horcruxes are very powerful objects," Remus said. "Harry is stealing them to get back at Voldemort, but surely he doesn't know how to destroy them. Even we haven't figured out a curse strong enough to destroy a Horcrux."

"Horcruxes are indeed very powerful," Dumbledore said, "but nowhere near as powerful as Harry. If Harry is tracking down and stealing Horcruxes, then I'm willing to bet he's figured out how to destroy them as well."

xxx

Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Damien were gathered around Harry's table, sitting happily on the floor; but this time they weren't crowded around books and rolls of handwritten notes. Much to Harry's annoyance, the four teens had started bringing over food and insisted on having lunch in his company. Under normal circumstances Harry would have been irritated, but today, when his scar was playing up and he had a headache slowly building behind his eyes, Harry was downright pissed.

"Hey, Harry?" Damien's voice had Harry turn from the wall with the Horcruxes notes, to look at him. His younger brother held up a plastic tupperware box. "Come on. I brought mum's pasta."

Damien had taken it upon himself to bring at least one item of Lily's cooking every time he came to see Harry. And each and every time, Harry struggled to eat the food cooked by the woman he had grown up hating for crimes she never committed. It was as if guilt sat thickly in his stomach, not allowing him the pleasure of enjoying the delicious food.

Before Harry could speak, a sharp jolt of pain hit his scar. He quickly turned back to face the wall, to hide his grimace. "I'm not hungry," he said. He rubbed at his scar, trying to soothe the ache. It didn't work very well.

"Are you sure you don't want to join us, Harry?" Hermione asked. "We've each brought something to share. We thought it'd be nice to have lunch together."

Harry was gritting his teeth together, the pain was slowly building up in intensity. Without turning around, he managed a gruff, "Knock yourself out."

Ginny, who was watching Harry closely, narrowed her eyes. "Are you okay, Harry?" she asked.

Steeling himself the best he could, Harry dropped his hand and turned to glare at Ginny. "Don't wear out your welcome," he warned. "Eat your damn food and leave!"

He turned to walk to the en suite. He needed some cold water on his burning scar.

"Let's eat," Ron said, opening the box of meat pies his mum had made last night. "I'm starving."

The words halted Harry midway. He turned to look at Ron with narrowed eyes. "What did you say?" he asked.

Ron looked around at him, confused as to why Harry looked so angry. "What?" he asked.

"What did you just say?" Harry repeated.

Ron looked to Hermione and Damien, before turning back to Harry. "Nothing, I – I just said that I was hungry."

"No, you said you were starving," Harry corrected. "You might be hungry, but you're not starving. You don't know what starvation is. You probably don't even know what it means to be hungry. If you did, if you had even once felt the ache of hunger gnaw at your insides, felt hunger to the point that it makes you sick, you wouldn't use the word so carelessly!"

Ron's eyes widened and that's when Harry stopped, biting back the rest of his words. He looked around at the others, to see their shocked and saddened expressions.

Without another word Harry turned and walked into the bathroom. He leaned against the door, mentally berating himself. What was that? What did he just do? What was wrong with him? What did it matter what Ron said? He had just exposed an incredibly private trauma of his to people he didn't even trust. Well, bar one. But Damien aside, he didn't even know the other three that well.

Almost at once, a part of him disagreed. He knew them. He had come to know all three of them. He had stayed in the same room as Ron for four months in Hogwarts. He knew how much of a study-obsessed brat Hermione was, having spent his evenings in the Gryffindor common room, in front of the same fire that Hermione sat with her books and parchments. He had bickered with Ginny enough times to know what irked her and what made her eyes sparkle with mischief – usually right before she delivered a retort. And now, Harry met all of them regularly, three times a week when they came to study Horcruxes with him. As much as Harry would like to argue otherwise, he had slowly gotten to know all of them. But still, that didn't mean he wanted them to know about his past, about the horror he had lived through.

Another painful twinge in his scar had Harry sigh deeply and move to the sink. He let the cold water run for a few minutes before he splashed handfuls onto his face, soothing the ache in his head. He stayed in the bathroom, just holding onto the washbasin, his head dropped. Droplets of water dripped from his face as Harry stood there with his eyes closed.

He heard the door to his room open and then close with a resounding click. Harry opened his eyes. Another sigh left him. Well that was it then. He had finally managed to scare them away. He straightened up to see his pale, tired face reflected in the mirror. He looked ready to drop. He felt ready to drop. Harry ran a hand through his dishevelled hair and opened the door. He walked out and came to a stop.

They were still here. Sitting around the table, Ron, Hermione and Damien looked over at Harry as soon as he came out of the bathroom. Harry was more than surprised. He had heard the door open, he was sure they had left, and he was pretty certain they wouldn't return any time soon. That's when he noticed the missing person around the table. Ginny was gone.

Her absence hit Harry, hard. He didn't understand it. It took him a moment to recognise the heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach was disappointment, and strange as it was, sadness that Ginny had been the one to leave.

The door opened and Ginny reappeared. She stopped at the sight of Harry. For a moment, the two simply stared at the other. As if reading Harry's thoughts, Ginny lifted a hand to show him the bottle of water.

"We needed one more," she said quietly.

Harry didn't say anything. He watched as she set the bottle down onto the table, so that there were now five bottles, one for all of them. Ginny sat down, leaving a space between her and Damien.

"The food's going to get really cold," Damien said, drawing Harry's attention. "And I know you can heat it up with a wave of your hand, and as awe-worthy as that is, I would rather just eat now." Damien smiled and patted the space next to him. "Hurry up, Harry."

Harry still didn't speak, but a small smile lifted the corners of his mouth. He walked over, ignoring the painful twinge in his scar. He sat down with Damien on one side of him and Ginny on the other. Ron and Hermione were across from him. Not one of them let it show, how badly Harry's slip had broken their hearts. They simply sat, shared the food before them and talked about the best strategy for researching Horcruxes.

xxx

Weeks had turned to months. Today marked two months exactly since Harry left him. Lord Voldemort had suffered for months without Harry when he was captured and held against his will at Hogwarts. But those four months were nothing compared to the last two Voldemort had lived through. Then, Voldemort knew Harry was still loyal to him, that he was fighting every day to return. Now, Harry had chosen to leave his side. No one was holding Harry hostage. Harry was on the run from him, his own father. It was this that caused the most pain to Voldemort. It was as if tiny shards of glass had been pushed under his skin and were now flowing in his veins, tearing him up from the inside.

Harry had left him. His son had turned against him. It was the one thing Voldemort had thought he had taken every precaution against. Yet, it still came to be. Two months had passed since Harry walked out of Riddle manor and no matter what Voldemort said, what reward he promised, what threats he made, none of his Death Eaters were able to find Harry. It was as if Harry had simply disappeared.

A knock on his door brought Voldemort out of his thoughts. He waved a hand and the door opened to Pius Thicknesse. The man dropped to his knees, bowed before Voldemort and waited for permission to rise.

"What is it, Thicknesse?" Voldemort said.

"My lord," Thicknesse quickly got up and hurried in. "I have news from the Ministry."

"That would make sense," Voldemort said, "since you are stationed there."

Thicknesse bowed his head but not before Voldemort caught the look of fear in his eyes and the sweat on his brow. Voldemort sat up in his chair. "What is it?" he asked. "What news do you have?"

"My lord," Thicknesse licked his lips nervously. "A few days ago, there was an...an incident at the Ministry. It was kept a secret amongst the Aurors, which is why I have only now come to know of it. Believe me, my lord, as soon as I found out, I came straight to you–"

"Enough of your babble," Voldemort cut him off. "Get to the point."

Thicknesse struggled to speak. He was shaking, the perspiration dripping down his pale face. "The...the cup, my lord," he managed in a hoarse whisper. "It's...it's gone."

Voldemort sat still. "Gone?" he asked. The next moment he was on his feet and towering above the Death Eater. "What do you mean it's gone?" he snarled.

Thicknesse almost fell to the ground with fear. "I...they...they don't know. The cup was safe, my lord. It was protected. But then...it...it disappeared."

Thicknesse's collars were in Voldemort's hands in a flash. "Things don't just disappear!" Voldemort hissed. He shook the terrified man in his grip "What happened to it?"

"They...they said...there was some confusion, my lord," Thicknesse hurriedly explained. "Potter...he was on leave for the day, but...but he came to the Ministry, only to leave after a few minutes. As soon as he left, he came back, but he insisted he had just arrived."

"What are you talking about?" Voldemort asked angrily.

"Someone came to the Ministry under Potter's guise and stole the cup," Thicknesse said.

"What?" Voldemort spat. "Who would–?" He stopped. His grip loosened and Thicknesse quickly pulled away. Voldemort was staring past him, his red eyes filled with disbelief. "No," he breathed. "It's not possible. He wouldn't. Harry wouldn't."

Thicknesse didn't say anything but dipped his head low, his eyes on the ground.

Voldemort stood where he was, unable to move as the shock filtered through his senses. Harry had pretended to be James Potter to gain access to the Ministry, just so he could steal the Hufflepuff cup. Why? Because it was one of Voldemort's Horcruxes.

Voldemort knew Harry had destroyed the Slytherin pendant. He had seen it in Lucius's memory. As painful as it was to know his son had destroyed one of his Horcruxes, Voldemort had reasoned with himself that Harry only did what he did out of anger. He was hurting and he lashed out. Voldemort was ready and willing to move past it. He would punish Harry of course, once he got him back. But after that, things would go back to normal. But if Harry had taken another Horcrux...

Voldemort straightened up, his eyes deepening to a blood red.

"Thicknesse," he commanded, "Call the others. I have a message that needs to be delivered."

xxx

"We're taking off," Damien said, stuffing the last of the research books into his bag. The other three were already packed and waiting next to the door. "We'll see you next week."

Harry stayed sitting on the floor, before the table. He rubbed at his prickling scar. "You not coming tomorrow?" he asked distractedly.

Damien stood up, swinging his backpack onto his shoulder. "I told you, we've got the wedding tomorrow."

"Right, right," Harry mumbled. "Wait, whose wedding?" He asked, looking up at Damien.

"Bill and Fleur's," Damien replied.

Harry blinked at him. "Yeah, cause I grew up with Bill and Fleur. I know exactly who you're talking about."

Damien turned to his brother with exasperation. "I told you about their wedding last week," he said. "Bill is Ron's brother, and Fleur is–"

"Bill's fiancée, yeah I get it," Harry squeezed his eyes shut, trying to work past the ache building in his head. His scar had been acting up more than usual these past few days.

"Harry?" The concern in Damien's voice forced Harry to open his eyes and look at him. His brother was staring at him with big eyes. "You okay?"

"Fine," Harry said and forced himself to stand up. The pain sharpened at once and Harry had to clench his teeth together to stop himself from crying out. He turned his head away, his fingers clamped over the scar.

"Harry?" Damien hurried over to him. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," Harry said, dropping his hand. "I'm fine."

"Like hell you are," Damien said. He glanced to the angry looking lightening bolt shaped scar on his brother's forehead. "It's your scar again, isn't it?"

Harry looked over to see Hermione, Ginny and Ron looking at him too, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed. He stepped back, away from Damien. "You should go, it's getting dark."

"Harry?" Damien started.

"I'll see you next week," Harry said and walked to the en suite, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Damien turned to look at his friends. "You guys go," he said. "I'm not leaving until I make sure he's okay."

Hermione came forward. "I don't think he'll admit anything's wrong," she said.

"I don't need him to admit it," Damien said. "I can see his scar is playing up."

"That's not good," Ron said. "Remember how bad it got at Hogwarts?"

Damien did remember. He remembered it all too well. Harry's scar hurting had led to Damien and Ron overhearing the conversation outside the Infirmary; where Professor Dumbledore had warned Harry that the scar Voldemort had given him would slowly kill him, if Harry didn't destroy Voldemort first. Is that what was happening now? Was the scar acting up a sign that Voldemort was weakening Harry?

"Does he have any potions to help?" Ginny asked.

They glanced around the bare room.

"Doesn't look like it," Ron said.

Damien stared at the door to the en suite. How was Harry dealing with his curse scar without a drop of pain relief potion? He didn't even want to imagine what Harry was going through. An idea suddenly came to him and Damien knew exactly what he could do to help. But he had to wait until tomorrow.

xxx

Damien couldn't believe how easy it was to slip away in the midst of Bill and Fleur's wedding. All the adults were so engrossed in enjoying the wedding that no one noticed Damien slipping into the house and using the Floo system to go back to Godric's Hollow. Hermione, Ginny and Ron had promised they would handle things until he got back.

As soon as he arrived home, Damien hurried to the first aid box, where his mum kept all sorts of medicinal potions. Damien took all the pain relief vials, along with some Dreamless Sleeping potion. He then went upstairs, to the bathroom and took the pain relief vials from the cabinet as well. Pocketing at least twenty vials, Damien headed to the front door. He had to make his way to Harry's hotel.

It took Damien almost half an hour to get in front of Harry's door. When he knocked, Harry took longer than usual to answer. And when the door did open, it was only by a crack. A moment later Harry swung the door open with a frown.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. "You said you weren't going to come today?"

"Hello to you too," Damien said, walking past him to come inside.

Harry closed the door and turned to look at him. "What's wrong?"

"I should be asking you that," Damien said. "You look awful, Harry."

Harry's bloodshot eyes narrowed. "You left the wedding and came all the way here to insult me?"

Damien shrugged. "Weddings are long and boring." He sat down on Harry's bed. "I have to find some form of amusement."

Harry shook his head. "And the only amusement you thought of was coming here to annoy me?" he asked. "Couldn't you have just sneaked a drink and gotten pissed instead?"

Damien wrinkled his nose. "Excuse me, it would take more than one drink."

"It would take half a glass," Harry smirked.

Damien rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he mumbled. He took out the first handful of vials and dropped them onto the bed.

Harry's smirk disappeared and he walked closer. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Having a party," Damien replied. "What does it look like?" He dropped the last few vials onto the bed and smiled.

Harry reached down and picked up a vial of pain relief potion. "Damy, what is this?" he asked.

"You know what it is," Damien replied. "I brought some Dreamless sleeping potion too," he added. "Just in case you needed it."

Harry looked at him. "Where did you get these from?"

"Home," Damien said. "Don't worry, I've already come up with an excuse to explain why so many vials are missing. I'm going to say we – that is me, Ron and Ginny – were experimenting the effects of potions on plantlife." Damien waved a hand. "Mum might get mad, but dad will see the funny side of it."

Harry carefully put down the vial. "I don't need them."

"Yes you do," Damien argued. "You're not fooling anyone, Harry."

Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Damien sighed. "Give it up, Harry. I know your scar is bothering you."

Harry stared at him for a moment before his tense stance relaxed. His shoulders dropped and he unfurled his arms. He picked up one of the pain relief vials and opened it. He sniffed it first, which made Damien smile.

"It's not poisoned," he said.

Harry looked at him. "Most poisons are odourless," he replied.

"Then why are you smelling it?" Damien asked.

Harry gave a crooked smile. "Habit, I guess," he said and without elaborating, he brought the vial to his lips and tilted it back.

Damien watched as Harry gathered the rest of the vials and knelt before the bed. He pulled out a duffel bag from under it. He put the vials into the bag, zipping it back up, before pushing it under the bed again.

"Can I ask you something?" Damien started. "Why didn't you get supplies and brew up the potions you needed? Why suffer when you could make yourself pain relief potion?"

Harry smiled. "I tried," he said. "But these muggles have a very sensitive sense of smell. Or maybe it's the ingredients we use," he shrugged. "I had to obliviate half of the motel staff at my last stay, so they forgot what they saw in my room. I couldn't risk a story circulating about a weird boy mixing eye of newt with powdered spider in a big black pot. I can't have the wrong people know about me hiding in the muggle world."

Damien nodded. "They won't," he said.

"They will, if you keep sneaking away to come see me," Harry said. "Come on, I'll take you back to the wedding."

Damien shook his head but stood up. "You can't. The wedding is at the Burrow, where Dumbledore and most of the Order are sitting around a table, eating cake." He tried to hide how much the knowledge hurt that his brother couldn't be in the same place as the rest of their friends. "It's okay, I'll make my own way back."

Harry didn't say anything as Damien passed by him to go to the door.

"Damy, wait," Harry said, just as Damien opened the door.

Harry walked over to him and without saying a word, he took Damien by the arm. The room spun out of view and Damien felt his feet leave the ground. A heartbeat later, they hit soft grass. Disoriented, Damien looked around the open fields. He recognised the hill they were on. He used to play here with Ron and Ginny all the time. He turned to see the Burrow in the distance, beautifully framed in red and orange by the setting sun. He turned in panic to Harry.

"What are you doing? What if someone sees you?"

Harry smirked. "If someone is going to ignore the bride and groom to come outside and stare at this hill in the distance, then the blame lies in the boring wedding."

Damien pushed Harry back and under the shade of the huge oak tree. "You can't let anyone see you."

"I won't," Harry said. "I just wanted to get you back here quickly. You missed enough of your friend's wedding because of me. I didn't want you to miss anymore of it."

Damien stared at him with surprise. "Taking care of family is more important than a party," he said.

Harry didn't say anything, but a small smile came to his lips. He nodded to the Burrow. "Go, get some cake before it's all gone."

Damien turned and started walking. He stopped to look back at Harry. "I'll see you next week."

Harry smiled, and with an inaudible pop, he disapparated.

Damien stared at the spot he had been standing for a moment before turning and heading to the Burrow.

xxx

As soon as Damien walked into the house, he knew something was wrong. Instead of pleasant chatting and laughing voices, there were horrified whispers. The guests were huddled around their tables, looking pale and terrified. The members of the Order were gathered at the main table, exchanging urgent whispers. Damien noticed Fleur was sitting by herself, her eyes on the group of Order members, specifically on her newly wed husband.

At first Damien couldn't understand the whispers, then certain words made it through and it chilled Damien's blood.

'Attacked…got distress signal…Dumbledore's gone…can't reach him…too many Death Eaters…have to do something!'

Damien's heart sank to his stomach. There had been an attack and the members of the Order were trying to get together and provide back up for the Ministry Aurors. Damien quickly looked around for his parents. He saw his dad with Sirius and Remus, standing amongst the crowd. They looked furious, and had their wands already drawn.

Damien hurried over to the table where his friends were sitting, looking tense and anxious. Damien slipped into his chair.

"What happened?" he asked in a whisper.

"Thank God you're back," Ginny said. "I can't believe this is happening."

"What's happening? What's going on?" Damien asked again.

Ron moved in. "There's been an attack on a village," he started. "It's horrible. The Death Eaters are killing everyone."

Damien's eyes widened with shock. "Why are they being attacked?"

Ron and Hermione shared an uncomfortable look. "They...they think Harry is hiding there," Ron said.

Damien felt his heart take a further plunge. "But he's not."

"Yeah, we know that," Hermione said. "But no one else does."

Damien's eyes turned to his dad, who was arguing with the rest, looking red in the face. He turned, as if about to leave, but Kingsley was quick to grab his arm.

"We have to say something," Damien started.

"Like what?" Ron asked. He dropped his voice low. "How are we going to convince them Harry isn't there without admitting we've known his location for weeks now?"

"It's not the Order that needs to know Harry isn't there," Hermione said. "It's the Death Eaters. They think Harry is there and they are tearing the place apart looking for him."

As horrid as Damien felt, there was a sense of relief that his brother wasn't in the place the Death Eaters were looking. But the innocent people that were suffering at their hands, someone had to help them.

"What's the Order waiting for?" Damien asked. "They got a distress signal. Why aren't they helping?"

"They're leaving soon," Ron said. "But Professor Dumbledore is missing. He left the wedding shortly after you left. He said it was an urgent call and he had to leave. Then half an hour later, the news came that there had been an attack. No one is able to contact Dumbledore, so the Order is trying to sort things out without him."

Damien caught sight of his dad hugging his mum before sweeping towards the door with Arthur, Sirius, Remus, Kingsley and many other Order members. It seemed they were ready to go now. Damien knew his dad would never stay away, especially if he thought there was a chance Harry was there.

Damien saw Bill, still in his traditional groom robes, step towards the door but a call stopped him. Bill turned around to see his wife of barely three hours come running to him. She held onto him, desperate tears in her eyes.

"Bill, please," she begged.

"Fleur," Bill stopped her before she could say anymore. He held onto her hands, which were clenched around his robes. "I have to go. I have to help."

"Bill, no!" Mrs Weasley came forward, sobbing. "You can't. You can't leave today, it's your wedding day! You're not even an Auror!"

"I may not be an Auror, but I am a Wizard and I'm more than capable of helping," Bill said.

Before Mrs Weasley could argue, Fleur put both her hands onto Bill's face, cupping his cheeks. She looked into Bill's eyes and uttered one request.

"You must return."

xxx

When the members of the Order reached the village being attacked by Voldemort's men, their first thought was how hopeless the situation was. There were so many Death Eaters and they had almost demolished the entire village. The ground was splattered with blood, houses had been set alight. They air was full of screams, and shouts of the killing curse. Everywhere they looked they saw nothing but devastation. What once had been a small peaceful wizarding village was now nothing more than a burning wreck.

The Order sprung into action at once. They started duelling with the Death Eaters, coming to the aid of the Aurors. For the first time in a long while, did James feel the rush of rage run through him as he attacked the Death Eaters. There was one question on his mind; was Harry here? It was clear to him after a few minutes that his son wasn't. There was no way Harry would hide while the Death Eaters killed so many innocent people. Harry protected the innocent, he didn't endanger them.

James didn't know where the other Aurors were or what they were doing. All he could think about was the bodies of the innocent victims scattered everywhere. There where young men amongst the corpses, women, even young children. He threw himself into the battle, fighting and knocking out every Death Eater he came across, successfully blocking the multitude of curses flying at him.

Gradually, the Aurors gained the upper hand. James was immersed in his fighting when a curse came out of nowhere and hit his shield. It shuddered and fell. James turned to see who had shattered his shield. There were only a few wizards that could cast such a powerful curse; one of them was Dumbledore, and the other one...

James met the crimson eyes of Lord Voldemort, who gave him a cold, twisted smile.

"Hello, Potter," he said. "Finally, you're here. I've been waiting."

xxx

Damien remained seated with Hermione, Ginny and Ron at the table. The atmosphere was heavy with worry and misery. 'Some wedding day', Damien thought sadly as he looked over at the tearful bride. Fleur was being comforted by her family, while the other guests were trying to calm down a distraught Mrs Weasley. Arthur, Charlie and Bill had all left to help fight the Death Eaters. The twins wanted to go and help as well but were held back since they didn't have as much experience in real life duelling and they weren't official members of the Order yet.

"Do…do you think we should let him know?" Ginny asked quietly.

Everyone understood she meant Harry.

"I was thinking the same thing," Ron said. "We have the phone. We could send him a written message. Maybe he could help?"

"We can't," Hermione whispered back urgently.

"Why not?" Damien asked.

"Think about it," Hermione hissed. "If he finds out then he will want to go and help. That means that he will have a good chance of getting caught by the Death Eaters or the Aurors. Even if he does a glamour spell, the risk of getting caught is too high. We'll be endangering him." She took in a shaky breath. "We just have to trust the Order will handle this. There should be no need for him to get involved."

Damien knew she was right. It was too risky. What if Harry got caught accidentally? There were too many spells that could indirectly remove glamour spells. What if Harry was discovered by the Death Eaters? Or the Aurors? Damien took in a breath. No, it was better and safer for Harry to keep out of this. Besides, Dumbledore would be reached sooner or later, he would handle things. Everything would work out; Damien kept telling himself, forcing himself to believe it.

xxx

James lost what anger was in him. Instead he was filled with rage, pure unadulterated rage. The hatred he had for this wizard was so intense that James felt his body shake. Voldemort recognised the rage in James's eyes and smirked at him. James felt his heart tear, when the smirk of his worst enemy reminded him of his eldest son.

"It's been a while," Voldemort said. "I have to say, I immensely enjoyed my visit to your home. It's a shame I couldn't return for another visit." He raised his hands and gestured to the devastation around him. "I had to call you out to meet me. I hope it wasn't an inconvenience to you."

James clenched his teeth in anger. His hand was gripped around his wand so tight it hurt. He stepped towards the Dark Lord, towards the one responsible for breaking up James's family. Voldemort was the reason Harry grew up with no childhood. He was the reason Harry was forced to endure such horrific abuse. Harry was a wanted wizard with no possible future, because of this monster standing before him.

"You made a mistake coming here," James hissed at him. "I'm not letting you walk away today."

Voldemort laughed. "I'm not the one that's not walking away from this battle," he said. "In fact, that's why you're here. I knew you couldn't resist the temptation to come and see if Harry was really hiding here." He smirked at James's surprise. "I knew he wasn't here. I only made you believe that was why we were attacking this place." He cocked his head and his red eyes shone with anger. "I have a message to deliver to my son, and your mangled corpse will do the job perfectly."

It was James's turn to smirk. "I'm not afraid of you," he said. "Maybe I was, a long time ago. But then you took away my son. You turned him into a murderer. You stole his childhood and destroyed his future, his life." He met the angry eyes head on. "There's nothing left that you can do to me to scare me."

Voldemort twirled his wand. "We'll see about that."

"You can kill me," James said. "But I'll die with peace, knowing that you will never get Harry back. He's gone and he will never come back to you."

Voldemort's smile fell from his face.

"You stole my son from me," James said. "Fate has taken him away from you too. I've suffered for fifteen years, but now you're suffering in that same way. You might have taken Harry for your twisted purpose, but you began to care for him. Harry became your son. And now that same son has left you and will never willingly return to you. You lost your son, just like I lost mine."

James didn't even see the wand aim at him. He only realised what happened when an agonising pain gripped hold of him. The Cruciatus curse had James fall to the ground, as every nerve in his body twisted with pain. Voldemort lifted the curse and stared at him with angry glistening eyes.

"How dare you," he hissed. "You dare to insult me? You know nothing about me and you don't know Harry either. I will make him come back!" Voldemort declared.

James was shaking. His limbs were twitching with after shocks of pain. But he still looked at Voldemort and laughed softly, as he slowly sat up, wiping blood away from his mouth.

"You're the one who doesn't know Harry," he said in a throaty rasp. "Harry is my blood. He will forever be known as my son. Harry James Potter. That is his identity." He met the enraged eyes of the Dark Lord with no fear. "You took him away from me, but you couldn't stop him from growing up to look exactly like me," James continued. "You took away his innocence, but you couldn't take away his compassion for others. You tried to teach him wrong, but Harry still managed to learn what was right. Harry will never be yours. He will always be a Potter."

Pain exploded in James's leg as Voldemort shattered his bone with a curse. James fell back with a cry. He knew from the start he wouldn't be able to fight back. Voldemort was too powerful for him, but he still said everything he wanted to say to him. Even with his dying breath, James was going to remind him who Harry's true father was.

Voldemort stepped forward so James was lying at his feet. His red eyes had a manic gleam in them. He raised his wand and aimed directly at James's chest. He uttered a curse that made James's mind fill with pain. He screamed in agony. He felt like he was being skinned alive. His entire body was burning with pain. Blood began pouring out of his nose and mouth. James was gagging and choking on his own blood. Voldemort lifted the curse and looked down at him.

"It's a shame you couldn't bid your son, farewell," he said with a deadly hiss.

He aimed the wand at James's head.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Hundreds of miles away, in a room of a small motel, Harry let out a scream of agony. He clutched at his scar and fell to the ground.