Disclaimer1: These are not my characters, they belong to J. K. Rowling, yet they act like my own. ; )

Disclaimer2: The scene concerning Voldemort is a bit harsh, it's not detailed but if mention of a child in pain disturbs you skip it. I thought it was a hauntingly beautiful scene, but I'll understand if no one else sees that.

Enjoi!


Chapter 5

"They're dead?" Harry asked in a whisper, most of his voice catching in his throat.

Ginny looked up with tear filled eyes, "Yes, in the attack."

Ron's gaze didn't waver. Hermione had just entered the doorway but didn't let it known that she had arrived. Harry's eyes glinted in a cold fire. He hastily got out of bed. He stumbled until he reached the doorway where Hermione caught him.

"Harry, you should get back in bed."

"No, will you help me to the fireplace? Or do I have to get there on my own?" Harry asked in a dead voice.

Hermione looked torn until she nodded her head in acceptance. Harry leaned his weight onto his friend's smaller frame as they undertook the daunting task of the stairs.

Step by step, they came closer to their goal. Each step was agonizing to Harry, but he wouldn't cry out. Right now his pain meant nothing. After twenty minutes they had made it to the first floor landing. They started to walk again when the front door opened quietly. The man started to gently enter the room. Once in the light properly the shadows receded to reveal a tired face.

"Hello Remus," Harry said in a voice stronger than he thought he was capable of.


"He's going to do something stupid," Ginny whispered to her brother. Her brother who was lost in his own mind. Her brother who hadn't blinked in the past five minutes.

"Ron, we need to stop him from doing something stupid," Ginny's voiced wavered with every word. Ron blinked, barely acknowledged Ginny was there and shook his head no.

"This may break him completely Ron, we need to…" but Ron interrupted her.

"He won't, he's not. This is Harry. He'll just grow stronger."

"But Ron, he's been bedridden for three days because he…"

"I know what he did. He doesn't have his wand. He wanted the fire, he's probably calling Dumbledore."

"Fine, I'll leave him to it. But when he does something stupid, it'll be on your head."

Ron almost laughed, but found that he couldn't, then replied, "Hermione is with him, she'll either stop him or it will be on her head." He then got up and walked out the door, Ginny noted he turned left. Left was upstairs, his room, the library, and some abandoned rooms no one usually went in to.


Remus Lupin rushed forward upon seeing the state of Harry.

"What's wrong Harry?" the werewolf asked in concern.

Harry glanced at Hermione, and then answered, "Can we discuss that later Professor?"

"Sure Harry, and please, call me Remus."

"Ok, Pro…Re…how about Moony?" Harry asked.

"Sure, now where are you going?" the former teacher asked looking at a very tired looking Hermione.

"The kitchen, I need to make a call," Harry answered.

Questions began to dance in Remus's bale blue eyes, but instead of asking he merely nodded and supported Harry's full weight.

A much relieved Hermione said, "If you no longer need me, I'll go check on Ron and Ginny."

Harry nodded and she was off.

"What's wrong with Ron and Ginny?"

Harry sighed and replied, "You really are behind Remus, but I'll fill you in after I make my call."


Dumbledore was busier now more than ever. He had the full staff working on the Salvation wing; he had Harry recovering at Grimmauld Place, and now this. He stared at the letter that had arrived this morning, an anger the he usually never let take hold of him built up in scary proportions.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Order of Merlin First Class, Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot, Headmaster of Hogwarts, and other titles,

Enclosed is a cease and desist order brought on by one Narcissa Bethany Black Malfoy. This is an evocation of ancient rules and laws that govern us at. You currently have a spell cast on property that is not yours and by right, through the chain of heirs, rightfully belongs to the aforementioned party. You know the price of ignoring the property owner's wishes of your spell to be lifted. We expect to see action within 24 hours or we will be forced to use the counter.

Thank You,

Anthony V. Cruen

Dumbledore warily regarded the parchment. He saw the runes in each corner, and with no law to argue this with, he had to act. The counter, he knew all too well, would completely diminish his magic. If he did nothing he would end up a muggle, and the spell would vanish anyway. This was the ancient way of guarantying your home stayed safe. This was bad. It had to be a trap. He could feel it in his old bones.


Once to the kitchen Molly Weasley gripped Harry in a hug so tight he nearly cried out in pain. Remus also caught part of the hug since he was baring most of Harry's weight. Harry strategically maneuvered from the hug; Molly didn't seem to notice and just adjusted so Remus had the full brunt of her despair.

Harry hobbled to the fire, grabbed some Floo Powder and threw it into the flames. They flared green and Harry stuck his head into the fire and called,

"Albus Dumbledore!" and nothing happened. "The Headmaster of Hogwarts office!" and still nothing happened. Harry losing patience yelled, "Dumbledore!" with anger resonating out his mouth and into the flames.

The uncomfortable and uneasy sensation of his head spinning through the network while his body stayed in the kitchen finally happened. He closed his eyes to shield his eyes from the spinning that he so hated. Finally it stopped.

"Harry! What can I do for you?" Dumbledore asked from his desk.

"I need my wand," Harry said in a cold dead voice.

Dumbledore hesitated a moment too long.

"Give me my wand," he said with the anger boiling close to the surface.

"Why do you need it Harry?" the Headmaster asked.

Harry's eyes bored into the headmaster's, "Give. Me. The. Wand."

Dumbledore sighed and reached into his pocket. He removed the thing Harry felt he needed right now. He then walked towards the flame.

"Harry, please do an old man a favor," Dumbledore asked in a resigned voice.

"What?"

"Get everyone at Grimmauld ready to move, and move fast. I'll be over later to explain, but the sooner the better."

Harry's eyes betrayed his shock, but the rest of his face was an emotionless mask. He only nodded in response. Dumbledore also nodded and placed Harry's wand into the boy's mouth. With a small pop, the head was gone and the flames returned to red, orange, and yellow.

Harry quickly took his wand out of his mouth and cursed. This was not good.


Hermione tried to console Ginny, but Ginny was beyond her. Ginny had completely broken and locked herself within her mind. After trying with failure to lure her out Hermione went to try and find Ron.

Slowly she crept up the stairs heading toward his room. She felt useless at this moment in time, she needed to do something. Anything. On her way, she heard muffled shouts from a room people usually did not enter. She approached the door and she could make out Ron's voice but not the words. Pressing her ear to the door she could hear the pain and anger coursing through his voice, but still not the words.

With much hesitation she turned the knob allowing a small crack to appear between the door and wall. Finally the words registered in her brain. Tears formed in her eyes as she watched her friend of so many years.

"Avada Kedavra!" Ron shouted, a puff of green sparks floated from the tip. He poured all of his anger in his spell, but he just couldn't figure it out.

Hermione's small scared voice broke Ron's concentration. "What are you doing?"

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed startled as he spun around to face her. She jumped a little and he quickly lowered his wand.

"Why are you trying to do the killing curse?"

"We…we need to be prepared. You remember the Department of Mysteries, what's the point of stunning someone to have someone else come and wake them up?"

"But death…we can't kill people Ron…that would make us as bad as they are."

"No it wouldn't. They kill for fun, and for a way for them to gain power to kill more people. They killed my," Ron swallowed hard, "they killed my dad…just to scare people. We can kill them to stop them. I can at least."

Hermione looked torn between what she believed, and the sense Ron made. The tears started to flow as she turned and began walking from the room. Almost in a whisper she called to Ron without turning her head,

"Pour your hate into the spell," she stopped, closed her eyes, and held in a sob, "all the hate you can manage, then try it."

She started out of the room again, she heard Ron call the spell. She didn't need to see the green light of the spell streaking across the room to know he managed it. She didn't have to hear the book case exploding to know the spell had worked. Her own breaking heart was all the proof she needed to know her two best friends had both completely lost their innocence.


"So…you tried…" Remus couldn't finish the sentence but Harry nodded. "And Arthur and Percy…" Mrs. Weasley let out a sob of confirmation. Remus shook his head and placed his face into his palms. His body visibly deflated. A ripple of guilt echoed through his soul. All this happened, while he was getting drunk and talked to his dead friends. This thought brought him back to the house he was in. To the house Sirius hated. He looked around the room and sighed. The familiar feeling of guilt, remorse, and fear settled into his stomach.

"This feels just like last time."


Voldemort's laughter held a touch of insanity as he watched the people in Diagon Alley scurry away from him and his Death Eaters. He needed a wall, a big white canvas, and he knew just where to find one.

Twelve of his faithful followers formed a circle around him. Bellatrix led the way. Her brand new toy being explored more and more often as people continued to fall at her Crucialo spell. He grinned as he stepped on a young boy who was withering away at her curse. He couldn't be older than eight; his screams were high pitched and drowned out the rest of the noise.

Voldemort considered killing the child outright, but decided the melodic note of his pain was an appropriate welcoming theme to him and his troops.

The Death Eaters barraged the stores and people in a bath of spells. Flourish and Blotts was burning. Windows were being blown out. Animals ran from the pet shop. Chaos filled the street; this was just another homecoming for Lord Voldemort.

The building he wanted loomed in front of him. The white walls of Gringotts were what he needed to deliver a message. And he had a message he wanted the whole Wizarding world to see.


Harry delivered his message. Most rooms were busy with activity preparing for the move, when, well they didn't know. Where was an even bigger question. He knew Hermione and Moony were doing most of the packing; everyone else had their own things to deal with. Harry lounged on one of the couches in the library. Summoning books that he wanted to browse, he knew well enough that a Hogwarts education (as good as that was) wouldn't help him defeat the Dark Lord.

He started to memorize hexes, curses, jinxes, charms; everything that looked at all interesting was stored into his brain. The wand movements were mapped out, he could tap the word to hear it properly pronounced. He devoured the knowledge hoping amongst hope that his poor brain would retain what he was reading. Some spells needed an emotion behind it, some needed visualization.

He read how to make portkeys, he paid particular attention to this. The reason was not for love of that means of travel, but only because it would be extremely helpful. He tried reading a book about apparation, but it was written with all the flare of a technical manual. Harry chuckled at himself realizing that it was a technical manual.

The manual came from the Ministry of Magic, Harry's heart constricted as he remembered what had happened there. Sirius had died there, now Arthur and Percy, along with almost two hundred more. If only he could defeat Voldemort he could stop all of this pain and grief. Pain and grief that had leaked itself into the only people he called family. How long would it be before he could do what he needed to do? How many more would die because he just wasn't ready?


Tenolian: Yeah, poor Harry never catches a break. As for his depression, it is going to swing a little throughout chapters. He's trying to be strong for the Weasleys, poor stupid boy. Thank you for the review, it means a lot to me that this grabbed your attention.

Luna Lovegood2: Yes, dear sweet Hermione. I wish I knew what was going to happen with them. As for the cursing, yes they are forming a bad habit aren't they. I know it is a tad unrealistic for these sweet characters to try out for a Quintin Tarintino movie but my only defense is that their emotions are running terribly high. And I don't have the restrictions JK does, so they get to act like fifteen and sixteen year olds in 1996. I was fifteen in 96, and I (along with everyone I knew) was a lot worse than they even are now. Thank you for the review and compliment!

Ok, I'm really glad at how many people are reading this, I could stand a few more reviews, but no one answered my call to write for the Knockturn project. Is no one interested?