A/N: Sorry about the delay with this chapter, but I was forced to go on holiday with my family (which was hell, by the well) and then when I came back I accidentally deleted the file for this off of the floppy disk I use, so I couldn't upload. Yes, don't tell me I'm an idiot. I already know. I even spent a couple of hours searching through the disk for it, so if that isn't idiocy, I don't know what it. Anywayz, onto the fic, which I think I have improved on at the start from what I had before.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and you would know if I did.

Chapter six

Harry jumped slightly as some leaves rustled overhead, but took no further notice. It would take him forever to get through the forest, past all of the trees and wildlife, if he checked out every little thing that made a slight noise. Most of it would probably just be caused by the wind anyway.

He jumped again as some more leaves rustled, this time just behind as he walked along, his feet dragging ever so slightly along the ground, but, again, he heeded it no further. It was just the wind; he reassured himself, just the wind...

He knew he was jumpy, but he felt he had a good reason to be. Should his mission, which he was already a week into, go wrong then he would be punished pretty harshly by the Dark Lord for such a failure. However, if it were to be a total success then he would, in order to complete everything, he would be faced with, well, he'd rather not think of it. But not only that, but there was a large chance that he could betray the Dark Lord with such a mission, when he would see the people he once thought of as his friends. He just hoped he would come through it.

But that wasn't the sole reason behind his nervousness, though it certainly added to it. No, the main reason behind it was how close he was to Hogwarts, being not too far from the closest edge to Hogwarts of the Forbidden Forest. He was so close to succeeding that he could practically taste it, reach out and touch, yet still it was just out of his reach. But not for long.

Harry stiffened, all of the muscles in his body tensing as he heard a stick crack underfoot from somewhere to the left of him. The wind couldn't do that. Only something alive could do that.

Keeping perfectly still, Harry waited about a minute before moving again. It was probably his imagination. Yes, that was about right. Nothing happened, all in his head, just his imagination. It had to be.

He took a deep breath to try and stop himself from jumping five feet in the air at the slightest of sounds and to also rid himself of the feeling that he was being watched and followed, and carried on walking through, getting closer and closer with each step, brushing past some low hanging branches, climbing over a few fallen logs, old, dead leaves crunching under his feet with each step.

He carried on walking like this for a few minutes, the trees thinning out the further he walked, the little sound that there had been previously leaving him along with the trees until it was so near silent that it was practically deafening. It was quiet. Very quiet.

Again there was a some twigs snapping, some leaves rustling, and an odd clicking sound, and this time, as the amount of noise seemed to be coming from several places at once, he stopped and looked around. He froze as he saw hundreds of pairs of eyes staring down at him.

Suddenly they pounced.

Hagrid peered out of a window in his hut towards the forbidden forest as he heard a commotion coming from the trees, not too far away. He was shocked to see a figured stumble out of them and collapse, a fair few acromantulas following him, but stopping just before the forest edge.

He scowled, grabbed his crossbow, and opened the door.

"C'mon Fang," he said, gesturing to the bloodhound next to the door, which quickly covered its head with its paws, whimpering quietly. "Yer bloody great coward," he added, slamming the door closed behind him as he rushed over to the young figure that was becoming more and more familiar with each and every of his huge strides.

Harry groaned as he awoke and opened his eyes slowly, fully expecting to have to shut them again from the bright white walls and ceilings of Hogwarts' Infirmary. He didn't, however, as soon as he opened them he saw that it was still dark out, a single beam of moonlight cascading across the floor.

A few of the candles flickered as a draft came through one of the open windows. Harry smirked as he saw it. Obviously Dumbledore was ever dumber than he had thought if he hadn't thought to at least closed the windows, never mind lock them.

He tried to sit up, but, on the discovery that he couldn't, he looked down to see that he was strapped to the bed at his wrists, shoulders waist and ankles. It was almost as if they didn't want him to escape.

The same child that had appeared in Capo Rizzuto only weeks earlier now appeared again, this time in the small town seaside Otranto at around one in the afternoon. He rested his hand on the wall as he stopped. It was warm out, even for the time of day, but the old brickwork was still cool, surprisingly considering that most other things in the town were baked already in the midday sun. Most would consider it strange, but not him. He could feel the magic pouring off of it unlike anything almost anything he had felt before.

The child smirked, and walked around the outside of the building, his hand running along the wall until he found a gate with a plaque on it which read: 'La Caldaia Arrugginita', and he knew it immediately to be a wizards' pub. No muggle would come up with a name like that for a public house. After all, it meant the Rusty Kettle, and the Wizards' already had the Leaky Cauldron in England and Le repas de l'horloge, or The Clock's Meal in France. And not to mention the very magic which seemed to be pouring out from the stonework. It could hardly be anything less than a wizards' establishment.

The boy chuckled quietly to himself. Under normal circumstances the only buildings which would leak magical energy would be magical schools due to all of the wards and spells placed on them to keep the occupants within them safe. But these were, by no means, ordinary circumstances.

The change was coming. He could tell.

Voldemort smiled cruelly as he pressed down harshly of a whimpering Wormtail's Dark Mark, summoning all of his Death Eaters at once.

He allowed an evil sneer to creep onto his face as he watched his Death Eaters crawl up to him on their knees one by one and kiss the hem of his robes, before crawling backwards to their own spot in the circle, leaving no space empty, except one which he had known would be empty anyway, proving that all Death Eaters were there that should have been.

Each of the Death Eaters served him for their own reasons. Some had been brought up to believe in his goals, whilst others were there to keep themselves alive, having only taken the Dark Mark when they had been faced with the choice between death and servitude. Others still took the Dark Mark to protect those they held dear, such as their friends and families. But whatever the original reason each of them for joining was, there would be no backing out for them. Ever.

"My Death Eaters," Voldemort began, staring around at them, the same cruel smile that always promised torture for someone on his face for all to see. "We are at the start of a new era..."

Harry awoke from the fitful sleep he had managed to fall into at approximately three a.m. the moment his mark started to burn, willing him to answer it's master's call, causing him to screw his face in an attempt to block out the pain it was causing him.

He had known that the Dark Lord would call at least one meeting during his mission. It had been inevitable. The Dark Lord called a meeting at least once a month on average, and his mission, he knew, would be likely to last about two months. He just hadn't expected it in the middle of the night.

Harry closed his eyes and swallowed, waiting for the pain to pass, which it should as soon the Dark Lord began to speak at the meeting, or, though it wasn't possible for him at that moment, when the bearer of the Dark Mark arrived at the meeting.

He felt his heart rate increase, along with his breathing as the pain in his arm increased, along with his attempts to ignore it. It would always do that. The pain would always increase if the mark wasn't responded to, regardless of whether whoever had it wasn't currently on a mission.

Harry sighed with relief as he finally felt the burning in his arm receding, it gradually fading until it was no longer noticeable. Finally it was gone.

A/N: Sorry about the delay, everyone! But like I said, I was on holiday with my family for a week, and then the file got deleted, but this is loads better than the original bit that I had in my opinion, and longer too. And I got quite a few ideas for it, so don't complain too much.

Be0t: Thanks! It's just a whole lot easier for me to actually portray people as, well, people.

Krissy Riddle: Here's the update!

Amscray: The High Lord of Hinkypunks and his wife? Well, I can't say I've ever heard of someone being called that before.

Hazardous: Wouldn't you just love to know that?

The Vampire Story Hunter: How evil is this evil idea, and what is it? Then we'll see if anyone accepts it.

Uten: Melodramatic? MELO-BLOODY-DRAMATIC?! Oh well, I can live with that.

Kage Mirai: Of course you liked it! Don't really know why, but of course you did!

SiriusRulz14: Well, here's the start of the mission.

NatalieJ: Thanks! Here's the update!

jeangab057: Teeheehee! Wars are fun!

DemonicPrinceMockler: As fun as I think it would be to stop writing Powers of Darkness, I'm not going to. There's too much plot to resolve in it.

Topsta: No torture yet. But hopefully soon.

Ryua Malfoy: So could I. I just described what I saw.

fireprincess804: I intend to.