I don't own Harry Potter. If you haven't figured that out by now, you're beyond hopeless.

Grey clouds cast Diagon Alley in a partial gloom as Harry wove through the crowds. His movements were precise yet graceful, and he easily avoided the influx of late afternoon shoppers. The threat of rain would not hamper his actions, and mere atmospheric patterns would not ruin his day. He couldn't help but smile at how successful his early plans had been.

The wheels were in motion, and soon, nothing would be able to stop them.

Three days had passed since the reading of the will. Surprisingly, they had passed in silence. Dumbledore had yet to make a move, and Harry wasn't going to indulge the old man. He didn't have to explain his actions to anyone, especially an Order of jumped up magical vigilantes. Let them realize the price of their negligence.

He was theirs' no longer.

His schemes were beginning to take form, and the culmination of his next step would arrive shortly. Transition loomed ahead for the wizarding world, and it would soon be irreversible. The moves that were made tonight would be just the beginning, and tomorrow would mark the start of a new way of things.

The smell of change hung in the air, and the wind would carry it far. Was he the only one who saw it? Or was he the only one who looked?

Dumbledore was too blind to see it coming, Harry knew that. The old man had his opponent right in front of him, he would never dream that another could come from behind. Voldemort didn't even consider Harry a threat, and wouldn't waste time thinking of the problems a sixteen year old could present.

Their blindness would be their downfall.

The Lord of the Light and the Lord of the Dark had spent too much time fighting each other. They had becomeignorant to the world around them. They failed to see the damage their war had inflicted. Voldemort had lost sight of his goal. In his bid for domination, he had become engrossed in revenge and hate. He was too traumatized by his past, to accurately plan for the future.

Had Dumbledore ever had a plan?

All the old man sought was the preservation of the ways of old. He had no desire to witness change. He had no interest in fixing the corruptness that had crippled the ministry. He fought for the Dark Lord's destruction, and in doing so, had committed nearly as many crimes as Voldemort.

What Dumbledore had yet to learn, is that the end doesn't always justify the means. Harry would do what was necessary in order to achieve his goals, but not to the point of betraying his beliefs and ideals. Dumbledore believed too heavily in his so called 'greater good'.

The Headmaster had sacrificed the childhood of an orphaned boy, for the future safety of the people. People who would later betray that orphaned boy. They had always been quick to accuse Harry when suspicion arose. Quick to turn on him when given the slightest reason.

Did committing these atrocities in the name of the light make them acceptable? Dumbledore obviously thought so.

Harry would not do an old man's bidding though. Let Voldemort and Dumbledore continue their endless squabble. He would slip by unnoticed in their ignorance. They would not see the signs, for they would not think to look.

A new wolf had risen from among the sheep, and he answered to no one. Especially a senile old coot who had directed his life like a symphony.

Coming to the intersection where light met dark, he turned gracefully, and walked up the cobbled street.

The shadowy depths of Knockturn Alley welcomed Harry as he entered the gloomy district. He pulled his hood up as he did, hoping that the darkening sky would aid him in his bid to go unnoticed. It helped, that none would expect the Boy Who Lived to venture into such dark places.

Making his way through the narrow streets, he kept an eye out for any Order member that might be stationed. Hopefully, Dumbledore would not endanger his mutts by sending them to such an unfavorable place. That would draw their eyes away from the Alley, and he would slip in and out before they heard the news.

With any luck.

The numerous shops and vendors that he passed were stocked with illegal items, most of them being dark in nature. Poisonous candles and blood stained books were a sharp contrast to the broomsticks and ice cream sold in Diagon Alley. A contrast he wouldn't mind exploring further, but unfortunately, he had a date tonight.

Walking past a filthy stall, he recognized what appeared to be a human skull. It was carved so it could be used as a drinking cup.

Nice craftsmanship, he thought dryly.

Harry briefly wondered if anyone would buy the collection of house elf heads that came with Grimmauld Place. He had thought of sending them to Hermione at first, as an early birthday present of sorts. He knew of her fondness for the creatures, and figured she might like their severed heads.

This idea was much better though. Were house elf heads considered a commodity? He couldn't help but smirk as he thought of the price that Kreacher's carcass might bring.

Harry traveled deeper, passing the open markets until the crowds began to disperse. His destination was well off the beaten path, taking him into the back alleys he was unfamiliar with.

He did not worry about attack though, and those foolish enough to try would quickly learn their lesson.

Coming to the place were the Slytherin Prince met his psychotic aunt, Harry studied his surroundings. The building was small and decrepit, seemingly shoved into a corner of the square. Thick layers of dirt and grime covered the windows, preventing him from looking in. A narrow street ran alongside the building, leading even deeper into Knockturn Alley.

Malfoy must truly be desperate to join the Death Eaters, if he was willing to soil his clothes by coming here.

Harry briefly toyed with the idea of knocking on the door, but settled with waiting instead. From what he learned with his Legilemency, the meetings didn't last that long. Standing unnoticed in the shadows across the square, he watched and waited.

And thought.

The wizarding world, Harry had learned, was ruled by fear. People may not show it, but deep down inside, they were all afraid.

And they knew it.

Fear of the dark kept them inside at night. Fear of the unknown made them narrow minded. Fear of change prevented them from evolving, and in turn, made them stagnant. People don't like what they fear. They don't like admitting they're afraid, even to themselves. So they scorn and ridicule whatever causes it. As their fear increases, they eventually become hateful.

Death Eaters were a worthy example. Wizarding society fears these witches and wizards who choose to serve Lord Voldemort. They fear them because they represent a threat, because they use powers that others do not. As Death Eaters kill, the fear of society grows. As their friends and loved ones fall, they become hateful to those who bear the Dark Mark. And rightly so.

But they do nothing to stop them.

For their fear controls them. It grows until they believe these Death Eaters to be more than human. They convince themselves that they can't defeat such reckless hate and devotional servitude, so they see no point in fighting.

Do they not realize what they were doing?

The Dark Lord need not waste his time fighting these sheep. They will defeat themselves. Tom Marvolo Riddle did not create Voldemort, the wizarding world did. They created him in their fear. They convinced themselves that he was a monster, and a monster he became.

How do they expect to win the war, when they can't even say his name?

But even as Harry asked himself that, he already knew what the answer would be.

They didn't. They expected Harry to win for them, just as he had done as a child. It didn't matter that they had betrayed him time after time. In their eyes, they had done nothing wrong. They still expected him to fight for them. They still expected him to make the bad man go away.

And they will not understand when he refuses to.

He will not fight for these people. Let them pay the consequences for the choices they had made. Let them feel what it was like to be abandoned. Let them fight for themselves for a change.

Let them die, if need be. For he would not do it for them.

He would give them a lesson though. He would show them that Death Eaters are not to be feared. He would show them that they could die just as easily as their victims.

Night had fallen completely when he was shaken from his thoughts. The creak of the door alerted him of the end of the meeting, and several figures walked out of the decrepit building.

The slight figure in the lead, Harry recognized as the Slytherin Prince. Predictably, his two silent goons followed. Harry could almost feel sorry for Voldemort. The Dark Lord must be desperate indeed if he was willing to mark Crabbe and Goyle.

The others that walked out were wearing cloaks, but he still recognized the burly form of Marcus Flint. It appeared that the former Slytherin captain had only increased in size since leaving Hogwarts. Flint and three others separated from Malfoy and his goons, taking a narrow alley that led back to the markets.

The last to leave was the one Harry had been waiting for. He briefly saw a mane of dark black hair, before it was obscured by the hood of the cloak. It was all the confirmation that he needed though. The long hair, and the magical aura were enough to give their identity away.

Bellatrix

His blood turned cold and rage burned in his emerald eyes as he watched her walk across the square. Sticking to the shadows, he followed at a distance as she went through the cobbled streets. She was going in a different direction than Malfoy or Flint, heading toward Murtran Alley, the corporate sector.

Harry was afraid he couldn't allow her get that far. Murtran Alley was a rather public place for an execution. The dark streets of Knockturn would suit his needs much better.

Following her to an intersection, Harry scuffed his feet loudly against the paved road.

The action had the desired effect. Hearing the noise, Bellatrix spun around, drawing her wand as she did. She frowned slightly as she looked for the cause of the disturbance, unable to see him through the darkness.

Drawing his second wand, Harry walked out of the shadows. Bellatrix's violet eyes widened as the light from the street lamp exposed him.

"Hello Bella," he said, his green eyes turning cold.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't little bitty baby Potter," she said mockingly. The surprised look in her eyes betrayed her though. "And what is icklee wee Potter doing in a place like this?"

"Why I was looking for you, Bella," Harry answered as if it was obvious.

"Me? And what did little Potter want? Come to avenge my dear cousin?"

"Something like that," Harry said, smirking at her antics.

"Aw," Bellatrix said in a baby voice. "Does wittle Harry miss his mangy mutt?"

"Harry?" he asked, ignoring her attempts to anger him. "Come now Bella, it's Lord Black to you."

Shock and disbelief flashed across her face as she saw the Black ring on his finger. Draco must not have told her the good news. Her expression quickly turned to rage though, and an strange glint came to her eyes.

She truly was insane.

"Crucio,"Bellatrix screamed as she raised her wand.

Harry easily sidestepped the crimson light, and waved his wand as though he was brandishing a whip. It was the same spell that Dumbledore had used in the ministry. A long thin flame flew from the tip, wrapping itself around her arm. There was a searing sound, and Bellatrix gave a scream of pain as the corrosive flame ate into her flesh.

"Aw, poor Bella," Harry said, as he broke the spell. His tone of voice was the mocking one that she so loved. "That hurt didn't it?"

Panting slightly, her face flushed with rage once more, and the crazy glint returned to her eyes.

"Nesvo Acervix," she snarled, making a jabbing motion with her wand. A jet of acid streamed from it, shooting straight for him.

Twirling his wand, Harry conjured a gleaming dome of silver. The acid struck the shield and was diverted, searing holes in the brick wall as it hit. Turning toward her, he flicked his wand, and a beam of raw power erupted from the end of it.

The red beam hit the wall as she disapparated, leaving a gaping whole in its wake. She reappeared behind him with a small crack, and he was forced to dive out of the way as she sent a curse toward him.

Rolling back onto his feet, he pointed his wand at her and yelled "Arcidio!"

A black ball of fire shot toward her, reeking of darkness as it sped across the alley. Bellatrix waved her wand in an arch, and a transparent shield surrounded her. The ball of fire impacted with it, causing the shield to shudder and tremble under the power. It barely held.

"Dravin Felus," Bellatrix screamed, sending a powerful flesh-eating curse at him.

Harry waved his wand, swatting the jet of grey light into the ground with an unspoken spell. "Penetrabilis," he shouted as he snapped his wrist with a sharp motion. A nasty red bolt shot out of his wand, moving too fast for Bellatrix to block it. The Piercing Curse hit her in the upper leg, tearing open the flesh and gushing out blood.

She wavered slightly, a flicker of fear appearing in her eyes for the first time. Disapparating once more, she narrowly missed the next curse Harry sent at her.

She reappeared on his right, stumbling momentarily from her weakened leg.

"Stremlok," she screamed. A number of steel shards erupted out of her wand, spiraling toward him at a fast pace. Harry disapparated without a sound, and the shards embedded into the wall of the nearest building. He reappeared behind her, taking her by surprise. She was unable to block the bludgeoning hex he sent, and was knocked backward, off her feet.

"Abolesco," she shouted from a sitting position. A dark blue flame shot toward Harry, and he was too slow to move. He recognized it as the Gorenta Curse, for all the good it did him. Voldemort had always enjoyed using it. A burning sensation spread across his shoulder as the curse hit him, and he fell to the ground in pain. He couldn't stop the scream that escaped from his mouth.

Bellatrix stood up slowly, a smirk spreading across her wasted face. Her leg was still bleeding, and she was favoring her ribs slightly. Harry brieflyhoped that he broke a few with the bludgeoning hex.

"You fought well, Potter," Bellatrix said with a sneer. "But did you honestly believ - "

That was as far as she got though. Raising his hand, Harry made a jerking motion with his wand and shouted, "Chalbys Penum!" A steel spike exploded from the tip, spearing into her shoulder as she screamed in pain. The force of the curse blew her backward, and she was flattened against the wall.

She tried moving, but let out a shriek of pain as the spike tore deeper into her flesh. It appeared as though it had gone completely through her shoulder, and embedded itself in the brick wall behind her.

She was stuck.

Harry stood up, the pain from her curse having subsided for the moment. "Chalbys Penum," he said again, as she tried raising her wand. The second spike took her in the opposite shoulder, it too stuck into the wall behind her. Her wand fell to the ground, and she gave a moan of pain.

Walking forward, he picked up her wand, and snapped it before her eyes..

"Going to fetch the Aurors, Potter?" Bellatrix spat, gritting her teeth in pain."Go ahead. Have them send me back to Azkaban, my master will come for me."

"Azkaban?" Harry asked, mock surprise in his voice. "No, I'm afraid Azkaban is more than you deserve."

Her head snapped up at his words, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief. Apparently she had not expected this. They quickly filled with fear and horror though, as she realized what he intended to do. The look in her violet eyes was no doubt similar to that of her victims.

"Bellatrix Black Lestrange," Harry said, his voice turning cold. "You have been convicted of the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom, and the murder of Sirius Orion Black. For that, I sentence you to death."

"May Hell welcome you. Goodbye Bella," he said, as he pointed his wand between her eyes.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Knockturn Alley really was an unpleasant place, Albus Dumbledore thought to himself as Kingsley led him down a narrow street.

The veteran Auror had contacted Albus only ten minutes ago, saying there was something the Headmaster should see. Kingsley had said nothing more, and Albus was rather interested in what could be of such importance. Only the most serious of matters warranted the attention of the Auror Department.

We're almost there," Kingsley's deep voice informed him, as they walked into a small square. "We were notified about an hour ago," the Auror continued, "some sort of disturbance."

Albus briefly wondered what an Auror would consider a 'disturbance'. He could smell the magic clinging in the air, and he liked not the scent of it. It was Dark, and in Albus Dumbledore's mind, nothing good had ever come of Dark Magic.

But then again, he reminded himself, this was Knockturn Alley. Nothing good at all had ever come from theseshadowy streets.

"Take a look," Kingsley told him, as they approached a group of gathered witches and wizards. Albus absentmindedly recognized them as representatives from different ministry departments. What did garner his attention though, was the number. He spotted three Unspeakables lurking off to the side, remaining in the shadows as was their nature. There were several Aurors as well, and even a few members of the minister's cabinet.

Taking a look as Kingsley instructed, he was met by something he certainly had not expected. His eyes widened slightly as they took in the body of a woman he immediately recognized as Bellatrix Lestrange.

She was dead.

Well, that was an understatement. She had been stapled to the wall behind her, a steel spike through each shoulder was holding her in place. The sleeve on her left arm was ripped of, exposing the Dark Mark that adorned her skin.

Her wounds were not enough to finish her though, and Albus assumed a killing curse had been used as well.

Despite the damage her death would no doubt cause Voldemort, the whole thing had him rather worried. Bellatrix Lestrange was a powerful witch. Powerful enough, he was willing to admit, that no member of his Order would be able to defeat her. Whoever had done this was a strong individual, and knowledgeable when it came to the Dark Arts.

The fact that she was dead spoke highly of their skill.

It was certainly not a member of his Order. They had been told to observe only. The Order hadn't even known where Lestrange was hiding. Albus had never condoned the taking of life, and had only done so when there was no other option. Whoever had done this though, obviously had no qualms about it. They could have just as easily captured Lestrange, and then turned her over to the Auror Department.

Yet they had killed her, and had done so rather viciously.

It was altogether disconcerting. Albus couldn't risk having a rogue dark wizard wondering about. He already had concerns about young Mr. Potter, he didn't need another one to worry over.

His composure was shaken even more though, when he saw that which was above Bellatrix's head. His eyes widened in shock as he took it in, a single word on the brick wall. It was written in her own blood.

Tenaroe

"What?" Lord Voldemort roared, causing the man in front of him to pale extremely.

"I just left the scene Milord," the man said, quivering under the Dark Lord's glare.

Voldemort eyes narrowed, crimson slits flashing dangerously.

"I arrived right after the Aurors," the quivering Death Eater continued. "Someone nailed her to a wall with steel spikes, then used the killing curse to finish her off."

The man trembled and shook as he stood there, no doubt expecting the Cruiciatus.

The Dark Lord however had forgotten about the quivering coward before him. Bella was dead? That was most . . . . . . unexpected. The lose was regrettable, but not overly damaging to his plans. He could easily recruit or train another to take her place. And her presence would not be so sorely missed once he broke the rest of his inner circle out of Azkaban.

Those blundering idiots would pay for their stupidity.

He was rather intrigued that someone had managed to kill Bella though. She was one of his most powerful Death Eaters. He had taught her the Arts himself. She was no match for someone as powerful as him or the accursed Dumbledore of course, but she could easily handle the best Aurors the ministry had to offer.

Whoever killed her would be powerful indeed. And if the trembling worm kneeling before him was correct, they had used the most forbidden of the Dark Arts to do so.

That immediately ruled out Dumbledore or anyone in his useless Order. Dumbledore was the leader of the light, he wouldn't use the Dark Arts even as a last resort, and the old coot had never allowed lethality.He wouldn'tgrant a dark witch or wizard membership to his little club either.

No, whoever did this wasn't answering to thedamn fool. And they certainly weren't answering toVoldemort either. It would be imperative that he find this person. Someone with enough skill to dispatch Bellatrix Lestrange would prove valuable.

"There was something else Milord," the Death Eater said, breaking Voldemort out of his thoughts. The man paled even more as the crimson eyes turned on him.

"Yes?" Voldemort asked, his anger rising.

"There was a name Milord."

A name? Did this person actually leave a name to claim their handiwork? How . . . . bold.

"And?" Voldemort asked, his voice deceptively calm. He was fingering his wand though, and his anger was boiling close to the top. The worm before him must have noticed, for he paled even more, and quickly continued.

"It was written in her own blood Milord," the trembling moron said. "The name Tenaroe."

Death Eater Slain In Knockturn Alley, Tenaroe Lays Claim

Rachel Benedine, Special Correspondent

The Ministry of Magic was notified late last night of a disturbance in Knockturn Alley. Such occurrences are not unheard of, as the nature of the area is without a doubt, dubious. When Aurors arrived on the scene though, they discovered the body of a woman, later identified as one Bellatrix Black Lestrange.

Lestrange, a convicted Death Eater and Azkaban escapee, supposedly helped He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named gain entrance to the Ministry of Magic last month. Lestrange's body was apparently found nailed to a brick wall, steel spikes holding her in place. It was determined that she died shortly after, victim of an illegal killing curse.

Ministry Officials denied comment, though an eyewitness said that a word was left above the Death Eaters body.The nameTenaroe, was apparently written in Lestrange's own blood.

The Tenaroe name raises many questions, adding to the mystery surrounding the event. The last of the family, Lord Theden Tenaroe, died one hundred and fifty years ago. The House has been dormant ever since, and the blood line was thought extinct.

Ministry Officials once again refused to comment, as did Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, who was also at the scene.

Additional questions have been raised as to the purpose of the murder. No motive, as of yet has been discovered, besides the fact that the victim was a confirmed follower of You-Know-Who.

Two distinct magical signatures were found at the scene. One was confirmed as that of Lestrange, while the identity of the other was unknown. The signatures also show that numerous Dark Arts curses were used by both parties, throwing into question the legitimacy and nature of Lestrange's killer.

For eyewitness interviews, see page 3

For Bellatrix Lestrange's history, see page 5

For a brief history of the Tenaroe House, see page 8

A twinkle came to the man's steel grey eyes as he read the article. It was happening. The wheels were in motion, and change was on the way.

He recognized the signs. He had not lived six hundred and sixty years without remembering the past.

He had been but another nameless man when the split had been made, and had watched as it grew over the years. He had watched as Theden was born, and had latter attended the last Tenaroe's funeral. He had watched as the line faded into obscurity, and he would watch as it rose once more.

There was a Wizengamot session approaching, and they would no doubt speak of this. None of them would remember though, as none had been there but him. They would not remember that you were never to slight a Tenaroe, as in them flowed the blood of the ancient snake himself.

Perhaps he would attend the session. It had been some time since he had. Perhaps the young Tenaroe would be there, as the man knew he had other names as well. Perhaps he would meet the lad, and see if he was like the others.

He knew Albus would never approve, and that was reason enough there. Coming to a firm decision, the man rose from his chair. He had to find his family robes, and Perenelle would now where they were.

Yes, changes were occurring. And it was about damn time.

There it is. Hope you like it. If you don't, well, shit happens.

HeWhoComeWithTheDawn: I am not yet sure what my plans for Narcissa are. Though if she does have a future role, it will probably be a small one. As for how Harry will tell Dumbles and the Weasleys they are no longer welcome, it'll be hard and fast.

athenakitty: I hope this answered your question about Bella suffering. Kreacher is dead, and you will learn more about it later. Harry will tell Dumbles to back off, but I doubt if the old man will take the advice seriously.

wavefunction: Tenaroe will come out in the next chapter, though I am unsure as to how. I don't plan on Harry doing any power enhancing rituals. I can always change my mind though, it's the power I hold over myself.Ihope this chapter answered your question about a different wand. The one I had him use was yew, with a dragon heartstring core. I'm not going to have Harry just killing Death Eaters all the time. Bellatrix just held a special place in his heart. He will be making some allies though, and will fight anyone who gets in his way. Your question about Harry returning to Hogwarts will be answered in the next few chapters.

Moongypsy04: I am aware of the similarities between the two stories. I assure you though, I am not doing it on purpose.

I would like to thank all of you who responded with the title and author to the story I was unable to find. I'm very grateful. If you have any questions or comments, I would love to hear them.

Please review. Your words inspire me to go on during these dark and gloomy days. Just kidding. Or am I?

Until next time, CONSTANT VIGILANCE!