Call of the Death Eaters

"Why?" Harry sighed in frustration, "I wish Filth, I mean Filch would just mind his own business! Then we wouldn't be out here! Why is it always the Forbidden Forest? Ron, I promise if we get back to the castle, we will get the invisibility cloak and give Mrs. Norris a good kick."

"Just because your mad that Filch caught us in Snape's store room doesn't mean you take it out on his poor cat!" Hermione huffed, adjusting her Visibility glasses.

"Oh come off it Hermione! He has us out here looking for Barty Crouch's last remains! That's just disgusting!" Ron cried as he wiped the special glasses on his robes. "It'll take us days to find him! Just so we can give the loon a proper burial?"

Harry clamped his hand over his scar as it seared with pain. It had never occurred to him that Voldemort might be in the forest, too preoccupied with the thought of Crouch's rotting corpse. But the chances of Voldemort were possible, even probable.

"Harry! What's wrong? Not your scare again, is it? Well, now I am officially afraid. You better not be joking, Harry. HARRY!" Hermione screamed as she saw her best friend being dragged away by an unknown Death Eater.

"HMmMmMmmm!" Was all Harry could manage with a black glove tightly covering his mouth. His teeth tightly snapped down onto the man's hand.

"Argh! You insolent little brat! Lord better be showering me with praise for this!" A cruel voice spluttered.

"Is that your only incentive for this great privilege, Malfoy? To be praised?" A high, cold voice asked sardonically, appearing from the trees. "I could have just as easily asked anyone of my other loyal supporters to do your task."
"O-of course not! I- know that my Lordship, but-t... but, that menace bit me!" Lucious cried cowering slightly. His hold on Harry never wavered.

Voldemort laughed, mirthlessly, "A Fifteen year old who bites? My, my, Potter, I thought you were more of a man than that!"

"MMMbbbHhhm!!!" Harry mumbled incoherently, but you could tell he was indignant.

"Malfoy. Arm." The Dark Lord stated bluntly, as the man shifted Harry into his right arm, and held out the other one. Voldemort closed in on the two. Writhing in pain Harry witnessed once again, the call of the Death Eaters.

Hundreds of tiny popping noises could be heard, as cloaked figures began to form a circle around Tom Riddle, his servant, and his nemesis.

"Grab the spares. They could be of some use for torturing young Potter. Or maybe just torturing." Voldemort's hand whipped out of his robes. A wand between his fingers, he muttered an indistinct incantation, Lucious jumped back and ropes bound themselves around Harry.

"In the beginning, the very beginning, who would have thought that my greatest enemy," Tom paused to let out a laugh, void of all amusement, "Would be a boy, so inexperienced and juvenile." He laughed another cold, cruel, mirthless laugh as he reached out and traced a finger along Harry's scar, "This time Potter, there will be no conjunction of wands when we duel. As, I have replaced that futile wand. Same make, same core, different bird. No echoes of you parents nor of your peers to assist you. None of that foolish revelry."

Harry sat there, silent, as Voldemort walked over to his friends and grabbed them from each Death Eater's grasp, "NO!" Harry cried, "Do what you want with me, but leave them out of this!"

"How very. Noble. Of you Potter, but I think not! Foolish, you are, just like your parents always trying to be the hero. Tonight you will be witness to your friends deaths, though we will be doing to wizarding world a favor." Riddle's snakelike eyes traced over Hermione and Ron, a look of utter disgust ran across his face, "Young Harry, your friends will die BECAUSE of you, not FOR you. Avada-"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Harry awoke with a start. He looked around his flat. Even today, 5 years later, that memory still haunted his dreams, his friends could have died that night. He could have died that night, but of course, he was used to that fact.

Every night, before he lay down his head, he thanked the heavens that his friends were alive and well.

Silently slipping out of bed, Harry crept out of his room. Tip-toeing down the hall he opened a door to his right.

There lie his friend Ron, sleeping soundly, a placid look on his face. Careful not to wake him, Harry backed out of the room shut the door with a soft 'Click'.

He resumed his silent trek down the corridor, this time opening a door to his left. There was Hermione, asleep at her desk, shivering slightly. Harry took a blanket from her bed and covered her with it, soundlessly extinguishing the candle she had been working by and walked out of her room.

As he made his way back to his own bed, he pondered, What would I do with out them?.

And that, he may never be able to answer.