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Ok. This chapter really gets things going. Harry fights with the big bad deatheaters - basically things happen. Ok. Here we go. I own nothing. Man, that was hard to say. Well thanks to all my reviewers.)

Harry Potter and the War of Hogwarts

Under the orange glow of the street lights, Harry stood before the five Death Eaters. Leaving the woman lying on the road, Harry stood and looked at them challengingly as they moved closer, forming a semicircle.

"So, Potter - what are you going to do now?" One of them sneered. He heard the woman moan with pain behind him.

"You did this?" Harry said with disgust, gesturing towards the woman on the street.

The Death Eater who had just spoke said scathingly, " Yes, we did it - what do you expect from a Mudblood?"

So, she's a witch, Harry thought with surprise. He took a backwards glance at her shivering form. The blood was trickling from her wounded chest, running small rivulets of blood down the road.

"Our orders were to take you to Voldermort, but we thought we might as well have a bit of fun first." He laughed maliciously.

Harry suddenly recognised him as Macbair, the former Ministry magical creature executioner.

Harry decided to test his luck.

"So, you're not going to kill me, then…?"

Some of the Death Eaters shifted at this question and Macbair spoke again,
"Not if you co-operate."

Harry laughed bitterly. "Well, maybe I don't want to co-operate!"

"Then maybe we'll kill you!"

Harry felt the familiar thrill of terror course through him, as he realised what he'd just provoked them to do. He stumbled back, and was about to try to get the woman to her feet, when an unknown Death Eater lunged at him.

Harry tried to dodge but just wasn't fast enough as the man grabbed his arm.

"Go!" He shouted to the woman, "Go now!"

She gave the Death Eaters a look of primeval horror, and stumblingly got to her feet. The action drained her, and she clutched her side, where blood was still trickling.

"I'm sorry…" She croaked to Harry, and staggered off down the road.

The Death Eater had now formed a circle around Harry, looking very menacing, and ultimately unbeatable.

Harry, from the corner of his eye, saw a black shape raise a wand in his direction. Not stopping to think, Harry plunged his own hand into his pocket, to get his wand.

He received a shock to find that it wasn't there…
The look of shock on his face must have been apparent.
"Lost your wand, Potter?" One of them said in a sneering voice.
Harry now didn't have a clue how to get out of this situation. He was surrounded by Voldermort's supporters, all fully trained wizards, and there he was, a school boy without a wand. Harry inwardly despaired over his stupidity. He should have never taken it upon himself to help that woman, even if she was a witch. He should have just rang the police, and they could have sorted it out. But no, he had to go and play the hero, and he would be taken to Voldermort, or worse, killed.
His worst fears were confirmed as the middle Death Eater raised his right arm, wand in hand. Macbair's mouth formed the beginnings of the deadly incantation, and Harry decided to take the only chance he had. Letting go of all fear, Harry charged at the man. Macbair, surprised, didn't react in time, and was knocked of his feet.
Harry was about to run for it, when an arm flew out from the side of him. Struggling to free himself, the Death Eater lost his grip and grabbed a fistful of Harry's hair instead. He cried out in pain when it was ripped from his head, but didn't give them a backwards glance as he sprinted down the street, running for his life. He heard the curses fly, but none hit him as he turned the corner and disappeared from view.
Harry had cleared a couple of streets and feeling a little less tense when suddenly something dropped onto the road in front of him, making him jump back a few feet in shock. Shock turned to delight and relief on seeing what it was. It was his wand. Above him he could hear the flapping of wings, and Harry looked up into the night sky, in time to see Hedwig disappear over the rooftops, and out of sight.
Harry picked up the wand, and carefully slipped it into his pocket. He knew he couldn't return to Privet Drive, now that Voldermort knew where he was. Draping the invisibility cloak over himself, he carried on walking away from Privet Drive, his aim - to reach London.





I've failed.
I know.
I did all I could. It wasn't enough -
We must prepare for attack…
It will be coming soon?
Yes. And when it does…we'll be ready.
How can you be sure we will succeed. After - After what's happened?
We will - let us hope so.



As dawn approached, the sky was flecked with wisps of orange cloud and red streaking across the horizon. The sun eventually rose from behind a far of hill, resting on the distance. Bright, morning sun beams rose up the stonework of the small cottages as a old Muggle could be seen walking down a wide dirt path the sky, a backdrop of blue behind him.

The old man knew nothing of what was taking place beneath his very feet.

Down through the soil, under the roots of trees, the sun absent, accounting for the dark sinister atmosphere. The distant drop of water hitting the rock of the hollow could be heard over the low buzzing of hushed whispers. The shadows cast by these whisperers were thrown onto the walls, flickering and dancing in the fire light.
A man, shaking with apprehension and fright, clung onto the ingredients in his hands. He wore a black cloak, face hidden. But the trembling was clear. All the members in the room seemed to be waiting for something. Trepidation was hanging in the air, thickly that day. As the air in the chamber grew colder, the buzzing of the whisperers ceased.
From out of the darkness, a tall figure appeared. They all stepped back to let him pass. He remained standing as a man stuttering from fright, stumbled up and bowed in front of him,
"We have succeeded, my Lord…"
The tall man's red eyes narrowed, but extended a hand and took the bundle from him, gathered the previous day.
The Dark Lord didn't look at the stuttering man, but gave a small smile, still looking down at the bundle of ingredients in his hand.
"It will happen tonight. Then we shall see who is the most powerful!" He clasped the ingredients in his long, white fingers…and he started to laugh, an insane malicious laugh that made shivers run up the Death Eaters spines. His deadly eyes shone with evil as the echo of his laughter reverberated through the caves.
"The potion will be ready in a fortnight - just enough time to set the stage for my plan. That Muggle-loving fool won't have the faintest idea…And after we have secured Hogwarts - well…we shall see."
His scheming tone brought out the evilness and bitterness in his voice. The stuttering Death eater kissed the hem of Lord Voldermort's robes, and went to brew the potion.
The stage was set. Dumbledore knew Voldermort had risen. It was time to show the world…




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