A/N: I know it seems like the story is rushed, or, if it didn't seem that way before it probably will now. Thing is, this was never meant to be a super-long story, and I didn't have any plans for it. I kind of had the beginning and end with no middle, so that's sort of how the story turned out. Despite that, I hope you like it, and please don't tell me the story is rushed--I already know that.
The saying revenge is sweet definitely was accurate when Harry and James returned to the Dursley's the next morning. James and harry watched through the window as the Dursley's screamed as they were promptly glued and feathered, and then covered with chocolate syrup. Harry stepped inside the house when it was over, laughing. His Uncle's face turned purple.
"YOU! YOU FREAK! YOU DID THIS! WELL, NOW THEY'LL KICK YOU OUT OF YOUR PRECIOUS LITTLE FREAK SCHOOL, AND YOU WON'T HAVE ANYWHERE TO GO!" Vernon shouted, advancing on him. Harry just smirked as he looked around at the two whales. Dudley was caught between being dumbstruck and cowering, and his mother was bewildered and angry. Vernon, of course, looked like a giant grape, which made Harry laugh.
"Oh, I might have helped plan it, but I didn't actually do it. No, no, that honor belongs to my father, you see. This is revenge. This is revenge for all those years of torture. What you took away from me, what you denied me. At best you ignored me, at worst you beat me. This is payback. You're here, covered in syrup and feathers, and look at me now, standing here confident, proud, smiling and I certainly do have a place to go. I, unlike you, have friends. I also have a father. So there. You shouldn't get any satisfaction knowing that I am unhappy—because guess what? I'm perfectly content," nad with that, Harry left the house and did side-along apparition with his father to go back to Hogsmeade once more.
Harry had a good time laughing. The Junoir Marauder, Harry Evans, the boy they had tormented his whole life, the boy that at best they had ignored and neglected, had finally exacted his revenge, even if it was a small one. Harry had an even better time when he got back to Hogwarts and got to tell Ron, Hermione and Ginny of the escapade. Needless to say, most of it was interrupted by fits of laughter on everyone's part. Unfortunately, this would be one of the few happy moments Harry would have in the coming months.
March, April and May came and went; June came, and Harry would have given anything to say that June went as well, but unfortunately June was the worst month of Harry's, or any Hogwarts students', life. It had been a fairly ordinary day overall. Harry was in his private defense lesson with James when they heard the first ear-splitting scream. Both father and son leapt to their feet and ran towards the sound, wand in hand. Many classes had done so as well, and the sight before them made most of the classes scream in terror. Pandemonium had hit—Death Eaters were inside Hogwarts. James fought his way through the stampeding crowd, yelling for them to come into order and for the sixth and seventh years to help fight. Harry ran to find the Headmaster.
His mind was racing. How could they have gotten in? Where was Dumbledore? Why hadn't the wards worked as they were supposed to? Swiftly he threw a curse at an approaching Death Eater. How could this have happened? The teachers looked strained, their faces drawn tight. Students were going down a mile per minute, luckily none of them killed as far as Harry could tell. He ran to the Headmaster's office. When he got outside of the room he burst in without knocking. No one was there. Panic was seizing Harry—where was he? Maybe he was fighting the death eaters—but, somehow Harry knew better. Harry ran from the room, uncertain. He cursed a deatheater on his way out. What was going on? Harry had never before felt so abandoned in his life.
Meanwhile, James was fighting with the other students and teachers. Panic gripped him as he realized he had no idea where Harry had gone off to. Was he okay? Was he captured? Was he even alive? James had no idea but for Harry's sake as well as his own he hoped to god that he was okay. After what seemed like hours of fighting the Aurors arrived along with members of the Order of the Phoenix (the Phoenix had arrived first, far more promptly.) but unfortunately more and more death eaters were arriving—most frighteningly was that Fenrir Greyback and his gang had arrived. Remus and Sirius were in sight and he could see Remus' face pale but then go red with fury. James smiled grimly. If anyone could kill that evil werewolf it was Remus.
"Protego!" James shouted as he saw a curse come flying at him. James was feeling slightly sick—the castle was just one giant blur of different colors as curses and hexes were thrown all over the place. Eventually they drove off the Death Eaters. James felt just about ready to collapse when it was all over. He looked around grimly—some of the people he had knew, Aurors or Order Members, lay on the floor dead. What had they done to deserve this? James shook his head. It was all so awful.
"Dad!" called a voice. James did not instinctively turn around, but he recognized the voice as Harry's and then turned with relief.
"Harry, you're alive! I thought something awful had happened to you!" James said, catching his son in a bear-hug. Harry looked caught between shock and crying. "What did happen to you?" James asked, concerned.
"Dad…Dad, I couldn't find Dumbledore. He was gone from his office. He's just disappeared!" James frowned, but his first and primary concern was his son—his second was Dumbledore. James just hugged his son.
"It's ok, Harry. We'll find him. I promise," James said. Though, James had the sinking feeling that, if they found him at all, they would find him dead.
Somehow enough order emerged out of the confusion that deaths were tallied, injuries were made note of and treated, and Dumbledore's disappearance was known to everyone in the castle, thus, everyone was grieving even more than they would have been had the castle just been attacked and everyone had died. James was helping out in the Hospital Wing, along with at least fifty different Healers from St. Mungos. The most serious cases were being taken to St. Mungos itself to be treated. One of the worst cases was Bill. He'd been ripped up terribly by Greyback, but there wasn't much that could be done for him. He'd live, but he might have some side-effects. Oh well, Harry reflected. Fleur still loved him, and they would still be married. Overall, it hadn't been too bloody of a battle. The only one dead was a Death Eater, killed by one of his own (because the bloke who killed him was stupid and was just shouting Avada Kedavra at random.) Harry sighed. He knew that this was the real beginning of the war. Things were just starting, and for some, just starting all over again. The hard battle was fought, was ended, and reincarnated to fight once more. He even caught a glimpse of Flitwick crying silently. Harry's heart went out to him. It was supposed to be over, supposed to be all over with no more death, no more pain…and yet, here they were, fighting again. Harry sat down on one of the beds and realized just how tired he was. Within moments he was fast asleep.
The next few months were painstaking at best for Harry. With Dumbledore captured or worse, Harry was leader of two anti-Voldemort groups, The Order of course as well as Dumbledore's Army. Harry had to admire his peers. They were even more adamant about fighting now that Dumbledore was gone. They dedicated everything they did to the old man.
Leading the Order was a very strange matter for Harry. He had Moody co-lead with him, for Harry was not much good at commanding legions of armies. As to being able to command adults, surprisingly he found that he could hold their attention. They held a certain degree of respect for their young commander. Harry had already led them through various battles, and the worst losses that they had suffered so far were two. They were two newer members that Harry hadn't really gotten the chance to know. He mourned the loss, yet he secretly was jubilant that it hadn't been anyone that he had known.
His Father through these months was his constant. He could always confide in him his worries, and he found himself often doing so. He never realized how much he had bottled up inside. He realized that perhaps he didn't have to be so much of a lone wolf, quite so self-sacrificing. He could do his duty, he found, and still be happy. His destiny didn't have to control his entire life. Through these difficult months he also had made the seamless transition from calling James by his first name to calling him "Dad". It came to the point where Harry couldn't imagine himself calling him anything different. He laughed back on the days when he hated his father, and he marveled that it had been but a short year ago. Harry smiled at his Dad one night when they were having hot chocolate together.
"It's hard to believe," Harry said, "what I've been missing out on all these years." James smiled.
"You won't have to miss out on it anymore, Harry. I promise you." Content, Harry sipped his hot cocoa. Suddenly Remus and Sirius came into the house. They had grim expressions on their faces.
"We fought a battle not too long ago," Sirius said. Harry was alarmed. A battle? Why hadn't he been informed? As if he read his mind, Sirius answered him, "We wanted you to have a peaceful night. You deserve one, kiddo." Sirius had become like an Uncle to Harry lately. He found he liked the funny dog-man. Remus, too, had become like an Uncle to Harry, though more in the sense of a mentor, like how Dumbledore had been a grandfather-figure to Harry. Harry nodded in acceptance. He was grateful that they occasionally offered him a reprieve. "We caught the snake himself," Sirius said, sounding irritated, "We used the killing curse on him, right off the bat, but it didn't kill him. Didn't do anything!" Sirius sounded outraged. Harry knew the reason why it hadn't worked, that Harry had to be the one to kill him, but it still made Harry mad. "He's like a Phoenix. No matter how hard you try, he just won't die, at least not permanently!" Harry gave a light smile. Sirius very easily lost his temper, but now he was just being silly.
"Au contraire, Sirius," Harry said. "It's very easy to kill a Phoenix. All you must do is kill it's master. The trick is that the master is usually very difficult to kill."
"What do you mean?" Sirius asked, irritated. Remus explained for him.
"There's another route, Sirius. An indirect, difficult route, but a back route that will eventually lead to Voldemort's death," Remus turned to Harry quizzically. "What might that back route be?" Harry shrugged a little helplessly.
"To be honest, I don't know. What I do know is that we can kill him. It isn't impossible, and it will be done. The problem is, how," Harry said. Harry took a swig of his hot cocoa. Remus and Sirius realized that they shouldn't bother him with more questions and sat down to enjoy some hot chocolate as well.
It wasn't long before Voldemort struck again. The Order and the DA were both well prepared for the attack on Godric's Hollow. Harry was very proud of them all. They were all so valiant and brave. He often wondered why they all hadn't been placed in Gryffindor. They all surely deserved it. They were all fighting their hearts out, including Harry, when suddenly Harry got hit with a curse from behind. Harry went rigid as a board and realized he must have been hit with Petrificus Totalus. A death eater came and picked him up, stuffing him in a large black bag. Harry was panicking slighty—was it possible to suffocate in this bag? Was that their crude plan? Harry struggled against the curse, but to no avail. Harry could feel himself being transported by side along apparition and felt sick. If it weren't for the fact that all muscles in the body were paralyzed Harry knew he would have hurled. Suddenly harry was rudely dumped out of the bag. It took his eyes a while to adjust to the dim light. He could hear voices, and the curse was lifted off of him. He was in what looked to be a jail cell.
"Don't even try apparition, Evans," Harry could hear Lucious Malfoy sneer. "there are wards on the cell." Harry didn't argue. What would be the point? Harry waited for hours. He wondered if everyone back in Godric's Hollow was okay. He hoped his father and friends had gotten through unscathed. After five hours must have passed, judging by the light that was starting to come through his barred window, Harry began to wonder, if they knew he was gone, if anyone was going to come and rescue him. Harry figured they'd try—he was, after all, their leader now. Harry sighed and put his head against the grimy, cold, stone wall. Most of all, he wondered what the Death Eaters were planning to do to him.
He found out quickly as he was dragged out of his cell—he refused to walk—and taken to a dark room, lit by magical flames that gave off little light around the room. He was dragged to a pit in the center. Death Eaters swarmed around the edges. He could hear steps coming towards him, and he saw Voldemort standing a few feet away. He laughed that spine-chilling laugh that raised the hairs on the back of Harry's neck. Harry reached for his wand but he quickly realized that it had been taken away from him. Vaguely he wondered when that had happened and where it was.
"Well, well," Voldemort said in his cold, high-pitched voice. "If it isn't Mr. Evans. I was wondering when you might grace us with your presence."
"Funny, I was wondering when you would disgrace wizard-kind with yours," Harry said airily.
"Interestingly enough you are still annoying down to your very last. Ah well, let's see if you're so annoying after a little of this," Voldemort said maliciously. "Crucio." Harry immediately collapsed to the ground. He bit his lip. He would not scream, despite the searing pain. He wouldn't give Voldemort his sick satisfaction. After what seemed like a lifetime, the curse was lifted. Harry could taste coppery blood in his mouth—he'd bit his lip until it was bleeding profusely. "You always were a Gryffindor to the end. Pity. You would have done great in Slytherin. Do you want me to tell you something Harry? Why all of your attempts at destroying me have failed? I have horcruxes. Do you know what that is, little boy? It is a soul fragment. I had seven. Once I kill you, I will make another one since this was so sweet a victory. My life will have no end. I will rule until the end of time! I shall kill you soon, but first," Voldemort said, looking like he'd just been told that Christmas came early this year. "Crucio." Harry was sent into waves of unrelenting pain again. Harry didn't know for how long the curse was on him, but it was long enough. Finally, he screamed.
The battle of Godric's Hollow had been a very difficult one. James was exhausted, to say the least. There had really been deaths this time. They had lost some very important players, as had the Death Eaters. It had been a victory, but James laughed cynically at the word. What was a victory really, if people lay dead? No, there truly was no such thing as victory in war. There was only a side that got their way and a side that had so many losses that they did not. James sighed as he tromped along the grass, looking for Harry. Where had that boy gotten off to? James get walking until he felt himself step on something uneven. He nearly lost his balance and went to see what it was. James picked it up in horror—it was his son's wand. Luckily he had not harmed it, but that was not James' concern at the moment. This was Harry's wand. He would never willingly leave his wand behind anywhere. James raced blindly through the ranks, searching for Mad-Eye. He found him being tended to (with him being grouchy about it all the while) by a healer. He had sustained a wound in the leg, but nothing too serious.
"Moody," James said urgently. Moody's magical eye swiveled to look at him. "Moody, have you seen Harry?" Moody shook his head.
"Nah. Haven't seen the lad since the battle started. Why?" Moody asked.
"Because this is his wand," James said, holding it up—though he knew he didn't need too—Moody could see it before just fine. Moody got up and grabbed his cane and started shouting. That got people's attention.
"All able-bodied persons!" He yelled. "Our leader has gone missing—probably captured by those slime balls! We need a rescue party. Do we have any volunteers?" Immediately everyone who could rushed forward. Moody nodded to James. "You have your pick," he growled. James nodded and started picking out the strongest Aurors of the group. Reluctantly, he picked out Sirius and Remus as well. He wished he could leave them behind, but he knew that that wouldn't be doing anyone any favors. Together they worked out a plan. Their spy had told them where the HQ for Voldemort was, and they assumed that Harry had been taken there. James would barge in with the others backing him up and they would use a portkey to get out. After they had each made individual little portkeys from coins, they set off to, what James considered, the pit of hell.
They arrived at the dank old jailhouse quickly and went in carefully. James was surprised to find no one on guard duty. They set off through the winding maze of a jail. It had obviously been enlarged magically. There was no sign of Harry, or even of Death Eaters. Sirius said quietly,
"I don't think he's here, James." James felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach. If he wasn't here, then where else might he be? Just when they had all just about given up hope and were about to turn back, they heard an almost unearthly scream. James' heart lept.
"Harry! I'm coming!" James said and sprinted toward the sound, the Order members right behind him. He wrenched open a door to a dimly lit room where hundreds of death eaters were in congregation, watching something. James started screaming stunning spells at random, his rescue party backing him up all the way. James made his way to the center, where there was a pit. Voldemort had looked up, surprised by the sudden attack.
"Stupefy!" James shouted the stunner at the Dark Lord, and in the time that it had taken Voldemort to block the spell, James had jumped down, grabbed Harry, shouted, "NOW!" to the Order members and activated the portkey.
Naturally, the portkey took them straight to the makeshift healing center at Godric's Hollow. James set Harry down on a bed gently. Harry opened his eyes, a slow comprehension dawning on him.
"Dad?" he rasped. James just nodded and smoothed back Harry's black hair.
"Yes, I'm here. Shh, don't speak. You're safe now," James said. The Order members were coming back in a steady stream now, and one had shouted for a healer to get their butt down to Harry. Eventually a Healer did come, along with a potion for the Cruciatus curse that had been set upon him.
"Lucky to be alive. Lucky to still be sane. He held out longer than the Longbottoms did," the Healer was saying as he held the potion to Harry's mouth. It had a sour, disgusting taste but Harry obediently drank it, knowing that by tomorrow he'd be glad he did. The Healer then gave him a dreamless sleep potion, and Harry, exhausted, fell straight to sleep.
That afternoon he awoke in his father's house, his house as well now, and felt as good as new. He got out of bed and went downstairs. He could smell bacon and chocolate chip pancakes. His Dad was downstairs cooking, Sirius talking with him jovially. James smiled when he saw Harry.
"Hey, how are you feeling?" he asked. Harry smiled.
"Good as new. That potion really did the trick," Harry said.
"Glad to hear it. Go take a seat at the table with Remus. Lunch will be done in a minute," he said, gesturing to the table with his spatula. Harry took a seat as he was told.
"Hullo, Remus," Harry said cheerily. Remus looked up from The Daily Prophet to give Harry a smile.
"Good afternoon, Harry. I'm glad to see that you're feeling better," he said. Harry nodded and grinned as Sirius put a plate in front of him.
"Eat up, Kiddo," Sirius said. "You need to get back to full strength. Besides, you deserve a good meal after last night." Harry nodded.
"Thanks, Sirius," he said, and promptly dove into his meal—he was starving. He looked at the clock and wasn't surprised to find that it was already two o'clock in the afternoon. He guessed that he'd had about ten hours of sleep, so he'd probably been up until four in the morning when Voldemort took him out for torture. "We need to call an Order meeting today. Could you guys take care of that for me?" Harry asked. He needed to tell everyone what Voldemort told him when he thought Harry was near his dying moments.
"Sure Harry," James said, and went to activate the coins that they had adopted from the DA.
That evening they held an Order/DA meeting. Harry began to tell them of the Horcruxes, and what objects he thought might be Horcruxes.
"I guess Dark Lords tend to get cocky when they think their captive is about to die," James had joked.
Knowing that Dumbledore had known much about Tom Riddle, Harry requested that someone bring him the Headmaster's pensieve. Professor McGonagall had obliged, and Harry soon had some even better ideas of where the Horcruxes might be, and just what they might be. Harry sighed. Thus begun a new chapter of his life and adventure.
"Perk up, Mr. Evans," Professor Flitwick said cheerily. "Now we have a chance at destroying that monster."
"Potter," Harry said absently.
"I beg your pardon?" Flitwick asked, confused.
"Evans-Potter. That's my last name," he said. James beamed at him. "I guess I have to get that officially changed, so as to reduce confusion," Harry mumbled to himself. He smiled at his Dad, and his Dad smiled back. Suddenly Harry let that feeling that had for so long gone unidentified for him wash over him. He understood the feeling at once. Love. The Power The Dark Lord Knows Not…all at once, Harry knew exactly what power he had that the Dark Lord did not. He had the power to love, and that was enough. Harry sighed, this time in contentment. He would get through this, no matter how difficult. As long as he had his father by his side, nothing would stop him. He smiled as the Order members left and immediately plunged in to finding the first horcrux.