A/N: Okay, guys, I'm pretty sure you probably picked this up on your way through the prologue, but it actually started during the summer after fifth year, when he was about to go into sixth. My bad. I thought I was writing 'summer before sixth year,' but it didn't come out that way. Because I forgot last time, disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING (reeled off in a robotic monotone). Yes, I know, shed tears of joy for… dum-dum-dum… plot!
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Chapter 1: The summer after 6th year
A tap at the window and a hoot from an indignant owl woke Harry five days after his birthday from a perfectly normal slumber. Unlike previous years, now that the man who gave Harry his scar was gone, Harry slept peacefully. It was his waking days that haunted him.
Harry had never previously realized what a blessing Voldemort was. The man was insane, sure, and more powerful than Lucius Malfoy could ever be, but at least he was predictable. Fixated, even, on Harry. Though the boy-who-lived had never known it before, this truly did take a lot of pressure off of the wizarding world.
Voldemort had technically been 'back' since his first year. Once he found Harry, though, all else seemed not to matter. As soon as he regained even the smallest bit more power, it was Harry he was after. Sending an agent into Hogwarts for the sole purpose of capturing Harry, attacking him in the graveyard, attempting to find the prophecy, even his attempt sixteen years ago, all proof of Voldemort's fixation.
Voldemort spent all of his resources trying to find a way to destroy one teenage boy. As a result, the outside world escaped his clutches.
Harry never even would have been able to kill Voldemort if not for his own idiocy in summoning Harry to him. Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix had previously made no headway in discovering Voldemort's lair. If not for the man's insanity, he may have been unstoppable.
Unfortunately, Lucius Malfoy did not have the same affliction. A perfectly sane man leading an already-prepared group of zealots trained to do a master's bidding, Malfoy was not concerned with Harry at all. Instead, he focused more of his time on muggles and mudbloods. To the rest of Britain, a new wave of terror had begun, the likes of which not seen since Voldemort's first rise, nearly two decades ago.
Throughout history, dark lords had risen and fallen. Some had even managed to win; only they were more widely known as 'pioneers of wizarding kind.' Now, the latest of the bunch had stepped up.
Harry got out of bed quickly, rushing to the window and letting in the brown barn owl holding a Daily Prophet in its clutches. After paying his knuts, Harry sat down and began to read.
Dark Lord Attacks Again
Yesterday, the Mud Purgers completely destroyed a small village of wizards and witches. The town of Hammersmith was a refuge for muggle-born and lesser pureblooded magical folk who want to settle down among their own kind, but holding simple jobs and living a simple life. Thought by neighboring muggles to be a simple, normal little place, Hammersmith was listed as a possible target of the Dark Lord Malfoy. Unfortunately, the few aurors posted could not call for backup in time…
Harry stopped reading. Nothing had changed for the past two months. Lucius Malfoy, unfortunately, was a bigger threat than the more powerful Dark Lord of the past. In fact, he could very well demolish most of the mudblooded population before he was stopped.
The Daily Prophet had run five articles in the last two weeks alone on the chances of who would be the victor would Lucius and Harry fight. Hinting, much? Even the minister had thrown in a quote on how he was "sure our Mr. Potter will once again to his utmost to assist as we struggle against this new evil." Great.
Harry gave up on sleeping and threw on some exercise clothes. Ever since the end of Voldemort, Harry had been allowed outside without a watcher from the Order. They had their hands full. Reveling in the freedom Harry hadn't realized he missed, he had taken up jogging.
In addition to staying in good shape, the jogging had left him feeling pleasantly sore, which had resulted in the use of a home gym Dudley kept in the basement. After the fat boy's triumph at boxing, Vernon had bought him the exercise equipment without so much as a moment's complaint against the price. It went unused, however, because Dudley wound up just being signed into the local health club by his mother. Because the health club had a pool complete with lounging teenage girls in bikinis, Dudley now spent most of his time at the club. He was even beginning to lose some weight.
Harry, instead, used the equipment, a deluxe set with multiple workouts for more muscles than he ever realized he had. His family still almost completely ignoring him, the basement was a more comfortable place to be anyway. After a couple of months of this, Harry was looking pretty nice by way of his body (if he did say so himself).
At a crossroads, Harry checked the near-deserted streets before continuing on. He would head down to the grocery store before making a circle back. Every few days, he went a little farther on his jogs. Harry couldn't really tell if they were helping, but he enjoyed them, so went anyway.
Suddenly, in the shadow between two houses that were very close together, Harry heard a noise. A long exhalation, followed by some quick pants and a seemingly pained groan. Turning to face the opening, Harry peered in, catching a flash of light off of something shiny.
Lifting a brow, Harry stepped into the shadow. Even a year ago he would have been frightened of what he would find, but nothing muggle could really hurt him any longer, and the wizards didn't know where he lived.
Looking around, Harry found the glinting object. It was a pocket watch, the snooty gold kind worn by the upper class with a chain. Similar to… the chain trailing from the watch to a hand.
"Are you alright?" Harry asked gently. Apparently there was someone hidden by that dumpster, a few yards away. Only the watch and the hand were visible at the moment.
Harry was wary of approaching, but did after a few moments of no reply from the person still breathing harshly. Strangely, with every step Harry took, the breathing seemed to speed. Finally, worried about hyperventilation, Harry hurried the final few steps to discover who was lying on the ground. "Please, calm down-" his words were cut off. Front-down in front of him was quite possibly the last person Harry had expected.
"Draco Malfoy?" Supposedly the blond had gone missing after school let out, presumably to throw in support with his father. Either that wasn't the truth, or Lucius had lost some sort of battle, because Draco was shy his normal 'handsome prince' look. In fact, he looked more like a damsel in distress at the moment. Face turned into the waste receptacle, he could probably peer under the bottom. At least that explains how he knew I was getting closer. He was wearing what appeared to be some sort of trench coat, complete with an odd belt wrapped around his waist. From what Harry could see of the bare legs and arms, however, Malfoy apparently was injured. Ignoring the light protesting sounds coming from near Draco's lips, Harry bent down to turn Draco over. Rather than accepting, Draco seemed to shy from the touch as soon as it was offered. A harsh wince and turn away from the hand was all received.
Harry knelt back on his haunches, frowning. Did Draco even know who he was? Harry doubted it at the moment. For some reason, the blond didn't strike him as in the best shape to recognize an old school enemy.
Resisting Draco's flinch, Harry wrapped his hands around the smaller boy's shoulders. With a gentle movement, he laid the blonde on his back.
Harry gasped.
The belt, apparently, wasn't wrapped all around his waist. Instead, the long coat fell open revealing a nude body to peruse. Harry may have even enjoyed perusing it, were it not covered with blood and apparent open wounds.
Draco had fainted when Harry rolled him over, there were probably even more wounds on his back. Relieved that he wouldn't have to fight the boy, Harry carefully picked him up, into a cradle in his hands, and started running to the local hospital.
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