Pre-notes: i got lots of reviews! okay maybe not that much, but it was nice to read your reviews, they supported and inspired me to write. I'm truly sorry that i can't response currently -- dreadful college coming. but i hope i'll be able to in the next chapter.

errr, since this chapter was made in a hurry, there might be mistakes here and there. But even so, please, do continue to read on…

Disclaimer: standard

NOIR and the Dark Side
Harry Potter checked his watch on his left wrist for what seemed to be the umpteenth time that night. Just when he wanted time to go faster, it felt like someone had put a cork in the sand clock, preventing the sand from falling. Harry sighed and placed his head on his resting arm. Anytime now, he was to be turning seventeen, meaning that he could finally taste the air of freedom.

Okay, that would be exaggerating a bit. But it did seem that way to Harry. Of all these (almost) seventeen years, he had been treated in slavery by his relatives, the Dursleys. It was only lately that they had slowed down on torturing him, when it turned out that he was a wizard.

Yes, Harry was a wizard, learning magic of all sorts. He had been a student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the past six years, but since the Headmaster of the School, Albus Dumbledore, died recently, Harry decided to quit the education, as the school was temporarily closed.

As time ticked slowly, Harry had plans made up in his mind. He had to get to the Weasleys' house, the Burrow, where his friend's, Ron Weasley's, brother Bill was getting married. After that, Harry considered to drop in to Grimmauld Palace, a house which his late godfather, Sirius Black, had inherited to him. There, he was to track down the whereabouts of Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord who had killed nearly everyone whom Harry ever cared for -- his parents, his godfather, some of his friends, the Headmaster.

Harry had so many plans that he wanted to fulfil that he started to doubt whether he was capable of doing all at once. Well at least, I've got to get to Ron's, thought Harry. He looked over to his regular school trunk, stuffed with all of his belongings, then shifted his gaze over to the broomstick (o faithful Firebolt, thought Harry, smiling) that lay on the floor beside him. Harry had an idea of flying over to the Weasley's, since he still hadn't had the license of Apparating -- the ability to pop up in any place needed. He was going hide his trunk and himself under his Invisibility Cloak as he flew.

Harry knew that it wasn't safe, these days, to travel during night time. Lord Voldemort had come back from his long disappearance, greater and more powerful than ever. His followers had started to attack many people, causing terror throughout the wizarding world. But even those who were not wizards had to be cautious -- without their knowing. Voldemort's followers, Death Eaters as they call themselves, had a fond of attacking Muggles -- non-magic people.

But Harry simply couldn't help staying any longer at the Dursley's. He definitely couldn't stand another minute with his Uncle Vernon snoring his wits out. That's why Harry didn't mind travelling at night time. He just wanted to get rid of his disastrous life at the Dursleys, though he had to wait until he was exactly seventeen.

Right, thought Harry, two more minutes.

Harry walked over to his owl, Hedwig. He released her from the cage she was in and whispered, 'You go over to Ron's first, okay?' The snowy white owl nipped his finger affectionately and took the flight out the window.

The last minute of his sixteenth year finally faded. As soon as the watch ticked number twelve, Harry Transfigured the owl cage into a leathered belt, rather badly -- it still had a lock on it, but Harry didn't mind. He rounded the belt on his trunk, and made the trunk change its shape slightly with his wand so it could hang onto his broom safely.

Harry took out a single piece of parchment with a farewell note written on it.

Dear Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley,

I wonder whether you all would actually read this letter, but I wrote it anyway.

I would like to thank you all for these past seventeen years for taking me in, even though I was a wizard.

(Harry grinned when he was writing this. He imagined how his uncle would react to the word 'wizard'.)

I have decided to continue life on my own. I will be staying my late godfather's house, so don't worry about me.

(Though Harry doubted very much that they would.)

Sorry for all the trouble I've caused through all these years. Thank you once again.

Signed,

Harry Potter

Harry chuckled at his ability of writing letters as he set the parchment on his desk. He folded the parchment and noted on the top: to Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley.

Harry put on his Invisibility Cloak and forced his broom, trunk attached, out the window. With a swift move of the leg, Harry climbed out the window and mounted his Firebolt. He looked back for second to take glimpse of the house he had lived in for these past years. Harry let out an inaudible sigh.

And with another swish of the leg, Harry Potter finally set out for the night ahead of him.

Arthur Weasley let out a huge sigh. 'Well, if so, I will have to register our grounds to the Ministry. It ought to have Muggle repellents, at least.'

His wife, Molly, leapt with joy and flung her arms around his neck. 'Oh Arthur, I knew you were so generous!'

They had been spending the last two hours in the kitchen of the Burrow, deciding whether to enchant the grounds with flowers or not. If they did -- which happened to be the conclusion -- they would have to have a way to distract Muggles, non-magic people, away from the site.

Another woman stood near the couple and chipped in, 'Oh zis eez going to be vairy wonderful! Eet will be just as I have imagined all my life!' This woman, with silvery-blonde hair, then rushed to the stairs, saying, 'Bill must be informed!'

Mrs Weasley smiled at her husband. 'See, even Fleur's happy.'

'I hope so. Registering wouldn't be easy, especially with things going on lately. The Ministry's been rather touchy about stuff,' said Mr Weasley. He took out his traveling robes from the cupboard. 'Well, I should get going, if you want things ready by this morning.'

'Oh, yes. Do be careful on the way,' Mrs Weasley reminded her husband. Her cheerful face changed into a worried one.

As Mr Weasley reached for the door knob, there was a horrible crashing sound just outside the door. Something, or maybe even someone, had hurled into the dustbins causing a major ruckus. Mr Weasley backed from the door slowly.

Mrs Weasley held her face in horror. 'Arthur, could it be--?'

Mr Weasley placed a finger on his lips to hush his wife. Another five seconds passed by without any sound. Mr Weasley approached the door and turned the knob. The door opened to the cold, dark wee hours of dawn.

A figure had tumbled into the dustbins. It writhed slightly causing a bin to topple over. Mr Weasley raised his wand at the figure and started an incantation. 'Stupef--!'

'Hold it, Mr Weasley!' shouted the figure. 'It's me, Harry!'

Sure enough, as soon as the draped cloak was removed, Mr Weasley could see the familiar façade of the boy. Harry's trunk had collided terribly with the other bins.

Mr Weasley contorted his eyebrows slightly. 'How am I supposed to be sure that you are really Harry Potter, not some Death Eater undercover?'

'I am Harry Potter,' said Harry. He sighed desperately when Mr Weasley held his face sternly. 'Err, you call Mrs Weasley "Mollywobbles"?' Harry gave a try, hoping this was enough to make Mr Weasley convinced.

'How did you know that?' asked Mr Weasley, with his wand still pointing at Harry.

'You asked Mrs Weasley last summer,' answered Harry.

Mr Weasley shrugged rather sheepishly, and shook Harry's hand. 'Just making sure of things,' he said, grinning. 'Having a night stroll, Harry?'

Harry gave a grin to Mr Weasley in return as they entered the kitchen. Mrs Weasley immediately brightened up as she saw Harry. 'Oh goodness,' she sighed, 'I thought it was You-Know-Who, in the middle of the night and all…'

Mr Weasley handed Harry and once again headed to the door. 'I'll be back by sunrise.' With that, he vanished just outside the door.

Mrs Weasley smiled at Harry and said, 'It's so nice you could make it here, dear, though I would rather you not travel at night time.'

She led Harry to the second floor, to Ron's room in which they found the red-haired teenage boy dozing off loudly. Mrs Weasley told Harry that Billl's wedding ceremony would be held the next morning by noon. With that, she left Harry to change into pyjamas and be gradually sent off to the long-awaited dreamland.

The commotion occurring the next morning woke Harry up. Everyone had got up earlier to prepare the wedding. Harry and Ron, who granted him a happy birthday and gave him a wrapped present, dressed quickly and choked down a certain amount of breakfast.

Mrs Weasley spotted Ron and forced him to put on his dress robes.

'But Mum, there's still four hours till the ceremony!' wailed Ron. It was quite understandable for him to refuse, for dress robes came in multi layers and the weather outside was sizzling. 'I'd be drenched!'

'Well then,' snapped Mrs Weasley, 'help me with the ice sculptures!'

The two left Harry unaccompanied. The other Weasleys' -- except Percy, Fred, and George -- were busy with the wedding ceremony site. Harry's other friend, Hermione Granger, had decided to come to the ceremony later only. She usually would spend a night at the Burrow, but it seemed that she had other things going on.

There wasn't much to do after breakfast. Everyone seemed to be busy. Harry couldn't find a gap to start a conversation with Ron or Ginny, Ron's sister. Bored, Harry chose to saunter the grounds.

Very …colourful, thought Harry as he walked through the grounds of the Burrow that morning. Everything seemed to be enchantingly covered with flowers, careless of what colour they each were. Harry wondered whether Fleur would mind the clashing colours, remembering that the part-Veela was very touchy about everything that did not come to her senses.

Harry spotted Bill, all dressed and standing rather anxiously by the altar. Despite the lines of weariness on his face, Bill, who had his long hair tied very neatly by the neck, held himself very handsomely that day. Or maybe it was the bow and tails, thought Harry.

Harry walked up to the groom and asked, 'I thought you were supposed to be in the groom's room.'

Bill looked up at Harry. 'Oh well, that room made me nervous.' Bill held out a hand and said, 'Happy birthday! So, finally seventeen?'

Harry shook Bill's hand and grinned widely. 'Thanks.' Bill took Harry's side and they strolled through the temporary garden.

'Ah, there they are!' exclaimed Bill, suddenly, gesturing to the gates.

Harry was surprised, wondering who Bill meant. But when two identical figures appeared around the gates, Harry knew that Bill meant his younger twin brothers. They were both wearing robes of light yellow, making the colourful background even brighter. A young witch accompanied them.

'Hello, Harry, happy birthday to you,' Fred said, in a certainly fake manner. Harry nodded slightly, rather curiously. Fred then turned to Bill and said, 'Bill, nice to see you too.' He held out a hand to Bill to shake.

Bill lifted an eyebrow, but shook the hand anyway. Nearly automatically, a huge cloud of purplish smoke erupted around Bill's head, sending down a local mad storm of shocking pink bubbles and revolving rubber ducks. Five seconds later the clouds vanished, leaving Bill soaked in pink liquid and the grass littered with rubber ducks.

'Our latest product, Bubble-Bluff Ringlets!' announced George, pointing at the ring on Fred's finger. 'Four sickles each! We've just got them perfected! Actually it does need a bit more of explosion at the beginning…'

Bill gave a pat on the twins' shoulders. 'You two made the groom to change his best suit!' Obviously, Bill did not want to start a trend of getting married in pink. The four laughed together.

Bill set off to the house to change as Harry and the twins watched. Fred then turned to the witch behind him and said, 'Remind me to add more explosions to the clouds.' The witch nodded happily.

Fred looked at Harry. 'I reckon you haven't met our new assistant, have you, Harry?'

Harry glanced at the witch and shook his head. She was olive-skinned, with wavy long raven hair. Opposite from the twins' cheerful attire, the assistant was wearing fully black robes; it looked like some sort of Harry's old school robes. But even so, the witch seemed to share the same high-spirited, comical character as the twins.

'Well, see, our former assistant, Verity, suddenly got sick this summer, so we had to seek for another assistant. It turns out that this girl is very reliable, especially as a source of ideas,' said Fred, grinning wide. 'This is Harry Potter,' continued Fred, gesturing at Harry. 'And Harry, this is Noir.'

author's note: aah :D how was it? Conflicts will be coming up in the next few chapters... Read and reviews please, thank you! O yeah, since I'm starting college in a couple days, I might be a bit slow on updating… sorrysorrysorry… but in the mean time, reviews please, thanks!