This chapter didn't go the way I wanted it to, but close enough. Thanks to Bitter Twilight (really glad you like it!!), Strixvaria, Eternal witness (I took your advice about Harry's temper), dancerrdw, Josephine J. Turpin, Kira and Pookster. You've all made me a very happy girl and I'd be thrilled if you kept reading. Edited!!

Not bothering to participate in the revelry and goofing off around him; Harry proceeded to Hogsmeade alone, his hands in his pockets and his eyes focused on the snow underfoot. Students were enchanting snow balls to hit one another, they were laughing and talking about what they were going to buy. The day had turned out bright and sunny with a few clouds in the sky and the temperature wasn't even bad. This is a Hogsmeade trip and there was only one more week till the Christmas holidays. Of course they would all be happy.

Harry wondered if Ron and Hermione were happy.

After all, he wasn't around to bring down their spirits with his mood swings and the ever-present group of people trying to kill him. He reasoned that this distancing was probably for the best; their fight on Saturday just made it easier to avoid them. Not that he didn't feel at least a little bit guilty about it; he had acted a bit irrationally. Sometimes he had these moments of clarity when he could think without feeling too angry or depressed. He supposed those must be the moments when Voldemort was calm (As calm as the raging lunatic could be, he though). After all, they were connected in ways no two people had ever been connected. He was Voldemort's mood ring.

Thinking about this, he figured that he was probably being influenced by the Dark Lord a bit that day. It made sense. He felt a little sad to think that Hermione and Ron probably thought that he was just a confused, angsty teenager who abused his friends with his anger. It made him definitely depressed to think that Ron probably thought he was just a kid who got mixed up in everything…no one special; just a victim of circumstance. Hell, Harry was being set up to be killed in their fourth year-

"…Harry…?"

-and Ron was jealous of him because of it! Let Ron save the world then, see how he liked it when you were either a tragic Hero-

"Harry?"

-or a deranged boy who fainted daily. Not to mention Harry's personal favorite: the pathetic attention loving liar. He never asked to be Fate's chew toy.

"Haaarrrryy…"

No, Ron and Hermione helped him when they were younger. When their curiosity was never sated and being in a life-or-death situation was more preferable than sitting in Potions.

"Hey! Harry!"

This wasn't the time to find solutions in the library or risk the lives-

Having resorted to desperate measures, Ginny had enchanted a whole arm-full of snow to drop on his head. She was pleased to note that this broke his reverie rather nicely.

Harry wiped his glasses off and put them back on to glare silently at her. She looked back without flinching. "Oh, don't look at me like that; you deserved it! You were completely ignoring me!" She brushed snow from his hair and he sighed at her.

"Hate to know what you do to Dean when he's lost in thought." Harry murmured. Ginny and Dean were still dating, much to the amusement of most and Ron's misery. He still sent Dean threatening glances before they turned in for the night. But Harry knew Ginny wasn't the type to take anything from anyone, be it her boyfriend or a poor stranger. For she had inherited a terrible temper and a talent to inflict wrath from her mother.

Just right now Ginny looked as thought she was considering using the Bat Bogey Hex on him. To his relief though, her expression softened and she pushed him along. "I still have Christmas shopping to do, and I don't want to miss out on any sales that might be happening," she said matter-of-factly. They walked along in silence for a moment just as Harry had done. Then Ginny cleared her throat and began. "So Harry…What's been up with you?"

"What do you mean, Gin-bug?" Here he was trying to act innocent. She glowered at the use of her nickname, but carried on. "Hmm, well, blowing up at Ron during Quidditch practice for one. Ignoring him and Hermione completely for another. And then I heard the same thing happened at breakfast yesterday! I mean Harry; I know how things were last year: you were locked up for a month in the dark! We had Umbridge to deal with! I can understand that." She looked at him sternly, her concern still obvious. "But this time, you're our brother! Don't you think you owe us at least a little respect? After everything?"

Of course. Why wasn't he thinking? The Weasleys. There was nothing in the way of Voldemort and his Death Eaters using them to get to him. A separation would be best. He would go to Dumbledore and demand that he be removed from the Weasley's guardianship. If he was dumb enough for it to work before-and, ironically, Sirius wasn't even in danger to begin with-it could happen again. They were a weakness. He didn't want anymore innocent lives wasted on the account of himself.

He looked back at Ginny, who was watching him anxiously. "I'm sorry," he told her curtly. The smile of forgiveness that had been slowly growing on her face vanished when he marched away from her and into Hogsmeade.

An hour later and Harry was feeling absolutely depressed. He only had a couple bags with him; candy for each of his dorm mates (excluding Ron. Harry and Hermione had pooled their money together in the summer and got him a new broom) and a necklace for Luna. The cold, milky white glass beads reminded him of her. After all; she deserved something since the Department of Mysteries. Not that he was rewarding her, he considered her a friend.

It was now 12:00 pm. Hogsmeade was at its busiest point; all that students that had legged behind at school had caught up. Some still had whole lists of people to buy for. Harry decided that going back to school would be nice. Maybe the common room would be empty.

Thinking this (but his spirits remained as down as ever) he began walking down one the busier roads to the exit. He thought later that he must have been one of the first people to see it. He was idly scanning the skies and did a double-take. Surely…No. But it was.

Someone screamed. Clear skies…busiest day of the year…like it would go unnoticed. Some people looked at the girl who screamed and followed her pointed finger; some happened upon it like Harry: accidentally. However they found it, pure chaos and panic followed. People everywhere were cramming into buildings; some ran off towards the school; a few people however, drew their wands and looked around for danger. Harry was one of them (naturally), but instead his eyes were still trained on the Dark Mark in the sky. It wasn't directly over Hogsmeade, but from a distance. Harry figured its caster was in the forest. He dropped his bags and ran, pushing through the mass of panic. No one followed him, which he was glad of. Trouble and him always seemed to come hand-in-hand, after all.

He was now in the next street over, no less chaotic than the last. He ran through an alleyway which would lead him to the less populated areas of the town. Once through that street and he was in the forest. He forced his legs to move faster; trying to make sure he was still moving in the right direction and catching glimpses of the Dark Mark between branches.

The noise from the town was gone; it was only him and his mad breathing. Branches snagged at him; one cut a line on his cheek which he ignored.

He risked a glance at the sky; the sign was directly over head. Won't be long…now, he thought. A cramp was starting in his side. He was breath was coming in by gasps…but he couldn't stop. Hearing the first signs of battle almost made him stop anyway, instead he forced his breathing to be silent and he heard it again. A spell being cast…a scream…laughter.

Harry got a view of a clearing up ahead. Two Death Eaters, a few students. He almost cried out when he saw that these students included Ron and Hermione. Someone else was trying to run…he/she was then stunned and lay on the ground next to another person. The nearest Death Eater was turned away from Harry.

Harry wasted no time and leapt out of the trees and onto the back of the Death Eater with a cry. The man grunted and fell onto his face in the snow; Harry pointed his wand into his back and stunned him.

He felt something pass over his shoulder and stifled a cry as the pain hit him. Clutching his wand in one hand and his bleeding shoulder in the other, Harry scrambled up to face the other Death Eater and felt his heart come to a screeching halt.

Ron was in the grip of the other man, a wand pointing into his neck. The Death Eater chuckled. "Throw away your wand Potter, and I won't kill him."

Harry did no such thing. "Let him go!" He demanded instead. The Death Eater clucked his tongue tightened his hold on Ron. "Not until you throw down your wand." Harry made to cast; but the Death Eater breathed out "Avada…"

He stopped and so did the Death Eater. "It's your wand or him, Potter. You choose." Harry looked from Ron to him and back again. Ron's blue eyes were watching him intensely. Don't do it Harry…get the Death Eater, he would be saying. Harry looked him in the eye for a moment. Ron must have figured it out; his own eyes widened and he began to struggle.

Harry lowered his arm and flung away his wand.

The Death Eater threw Ron away from him and pointed his wand at Harry. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Harry was distantly aware that someone had screamed. Green. That's all he saw, green. And that rushing noise. He felt like he was burning inside, but it wasn't painful. No, it felt almost comfortable. Soothing…

Then the burning increased and it did become painful; he was being encompassed by it. At least it was burning away the horrible green. And as the green faded, so did the burning. When the green had cleared, the feeling had faded back to that pleasant, comfortable state.

The Death Eater had a few moments to gawk at Harry until the spell rebounded on him; killing him with the same green rush.

Harry realized he was doubled over. He slowly straightened up, staring at the body in front of him. He supposed he should have felt relief. Instead he felt nothing but dread and the absence of the warmth. The prophecy. It had worked. It was true.

Not at all wanting to see the way Ron would be looking at him, Harry set off in the direction he came; scooping up his wand on his way and not once looking back, Hogwarts teachers and Hogsmeade residents passing him without notice.

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