Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. He, and all of the characters mentioned in the book series of the same title, belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers.

Warning: Half-Blood Prince spoilers.

Summary: As the Dark Lord once again rises to power, Harry Potter finds himself facing situations only found in his nightmares. The path of darkness is followed by those who have nothing to lose, but has Harry really reached that point?

Does not feature Horcrux storyline!

Dark Wings

Chapter Three – Magic

The next day passed in a blur of reporters, both magical and non-magical, with Ministry Obliviators walking around and making Muggle investigators forget why they were there. Harry was the victim of many an interview and photos were taken of him – mostly reporters from wizard newspapers, as the Muggles thought Aunt Petunia's view to be more relevant.

Petunia and Dudley had been forbidden to give information to the Muggles, and even stories given to the Wizarding papers were being restricted. Memory charms hadn't been performed on Petunia or Dudley – they'd already known of the hidden Wizard world, if not all of the details, and it had been decided that there was no reason to complicate matters further (which is surely what would have happened, had false memories of Vernon's death been planted into the heads of his wife and son).

Harry's broken fingers had been healed that morning by a strict Healer who had accompanied Lupin back to the house. Harry hadn't caught the man's name, but he'd heard something about him being a new member of the Order. A Healer among the ranks was a much needed addition. Still, Hermione fussed over him, until he had to forcibly (though gently) remove her from his bedside. He'd given her one of his books to occupy her, and she'd given over for the most part. Though she still insisted on making sure he ate everything he was given, which was irritating.

It was nothing, though, compared to the mollycoddling that Dudley was receiving from his mother. Aunt Petunia had recovered quickly enough after being seen by the Healer, but Dudley had not. Harry's cousin had refused to let the man anywhere near him and so had been left in his mother's care. Of course, Petunia couldn't cure magically induced injuries near as well as a trained Healer, so she'd taken to doing completely unnecessary things instead. Dudley wasn't getting any better.

Harry dozed when he wasn't being harassed by reporters or eating, and so was surprised when he was awoken to find Professor Minerva McGonagall standing by his bedside. The stern woman appeared extremely stressed – wisps of hair had escaped her normally tight bun and fallen to messily frame her face, making her appear dangerous, as well as somewhat insane. However, she smiled faintly at Harry when he woke, and, with a great show of outward calm, took a seat in the chair next to his bed.

Harry made to sit up, but one of McGonagall's hands was suddenly on his shoulder, holding him in place. "I've seen you in worse states, Mr Potter, but you're still ill," she said calmly. Harry frowned, but didn't move to sit up again.

"It has been decided that you will stay at Hogwarts for the remainder of the summer holiday, and likely until next June," Harry opened his mouth to protest, but McGonagall spoke over him. "You do not have a choice in this, Mr Potter." She said sternly. Harry frowned again. He hated it when people took control of his life.

"Mr Weasley and Miss Granger will be joining you, of course," she added calmly. "And I can assure you that as Hogwarts Headmistress, I will do all I can to ensure that the castle is safe for your stay there, Potter." Harry blinked before nodding. He'd forgotten that McGonagall would be taking over now that Dumbledore had passed on.

"Professor, who's the new Head of Gryffindor going to be?" Harry asked curiously. McGonagall frowned, then sighed and shook her head.

"You'll find out when you arrive, I suppose," she responded. Harry raised an eyebrow; he hadn't expected it to be someone he'd know. McGonagall stood then, "Until then, Mr Potter," she said, nodding before turning and leaving the room.

Hermione entered as she left. Looking around the room, she tittered and began to circuit the small space, picking up various scattered objects and stacking them neatly near Harry's trunk. Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "Hermione?" he asked questioningly.

She paused to look at him, "McGonagall got rid of all the media. She says that if you're up to it, we can go to Hogwarts tonight. She's gotten permission from the Ministry to allow you to Apparate without your licence, but only for today…" she trailed off and Harry blinked as she rushed at him and threw her arms around him in a tight hug.

He briefly hugged her back, and then gently pushed her away. "Let's go then," he murmured. He sat up (though he still needed help from Hermione to do so), and swung his legs over the side of the bed, slowly standing. It chagrined him to have Hermione support him on one side, but then, he hadn't remembered standing taking as much effort before, and he didn't want to fall over.

"We don't have to leave now, Harry," Hermione said gently. Harry frowned at her and she rolled her eyes. "You are so stubborn!" she exclaimed. Harry shrugged and grinned at her, not receiving any response other than the shake of her head.

Harry, using the assistance of the wall as well as Hermione's help, crossed the room to his trunk, bent down, and pulled plain robes from the mess. Hermione raised an eyebrow when he pointed to the door with a mutter of, "Out." There was a hint of laughter in his voice, and Hermione harrumphed as she spun and left the room, mumbling something that sounded (to Harry's ears) like, 'Men!'

He chuckled as he shed his clothes and changed into the loose black robe. Once he'd dressed, he looked around the room and blinked. "Hermione!" he exclaimed, somewhat shocked, "Where's my wand?" Hermione re-entered the room then, looked around briefly and sighed.

She pointed at his dresser. He furrowed his brow at her as he crossed the room to it and pulled open the uppermost drawer. There, sitting on a neatly organised pile of old socks (that Harry didn't recall organising), was his wand. He picked it up and ran a finger along the soft wood. At the tip, he came to a jagged area and grimaced. Further inspection showed tiny slivers of wood missing, meaning that the wand had probably been stepped on, much like his fingers. Bloody Death Eaters!

"Harry…" Hermione said cautiously. Harry sighed and shook his head. It wasn't bad, he'd likely be able to fix it, and it was definitely still functional. There was no point in screaming about it; besides, he was too tired for that. Instead, he crossed to his trunk and charmed it so that the interior was larger. After he'd piled everything into it (including things he'd hidden in the loose floorboard below his bed), he sighed and fell onto the soft mattress of his bed with a soft flump.

He wasn't yet sure that he wanted to return to Hogwarts. In that month after Dumbledore's death, the castle had begun to feel alien. The very essence of the magic that surrounded the castle had changed, and by the time the students had left for the summer, the signature was barely recognisable. Yes, it felt the same, but there was something missing from it. He knew he wasn't the only one to notice this, far from it in fact, but he was sure he was the only one who was so disconcerted from the fact.

However, it appeared that he didn't have much of a choice. He may have been of age, but that wasn't something that anyone seemed particularly concerned about. Everyone was expecting his to do as he was told, and to abide by the rules they'd imposed to keep him safe. Frustrating, yes; something he could take control of, no.

He sighed again and stared at the end of his wand. As long as the phoenix feather wasn't visible, he knew that he didn't have much to worry about. All the same, he was fond of his wand. Six years of using it and he'd grown quite attached, no matter what its relatives were. He touched the tip of the wand again, and then murmured, "Lumos," in a soft voice. The wand tip dazzled, and Harry nodded before extinguishing it. If Ollivander every reappeared, then he could get it repaired. Or he could go to another wand maker. Either way, it could be repaired, and be good as new again.

He shook his head, quaking with silent laughter, and wondering if his sanity would be as safe as Hogwarts as he presumably would be.

McGonagall didn't come by again until after night had fallen, and when she did, there were bags under her eyes and a tone of exhaustion in her voice when she told him that it was time for him to go to Hogwarts. A young woman came into the room behind her and smiled at him. "I can take over from here, Minerva," she said to McGonagall. The ex-Head of Gryffindor nodded.

"Potter, this is Sarah Levithan. She's a member of the Order and is going to be looking out for you at Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said. Harry looked sceptically at her. They were assigning people to watch him again? That figured. He nodded though, to both Professor McGonagall and to Levithan. Apparently satisfied, McGonagall turned and left the room.

The strange woman looked around the room, and then at Harry, and Harry took this opportunity to watch her. A very pretty woman, she was robed in black and red, with a light summer cloak – also black – wrapped around her shoulders. A fancy pointed hat – again, black - with a wide, feather-decked brim sat upon her head, and her hair fell from beneath it in soft chestnut waves. What caught his attention the most though, was her eyes. They were a silvery-violet, which glowed in the half darkness like those of a cat.

His eyes met hers and she nodded shortly, "Shall we go, Harry?" she asked, flicking her wand and raising his trunk into the air. He grabbed Hedwig in her cage in one hand, his Firebolt in the other and followed the slight woman from the room.

They walked down the stairs in a silence that wasn't echoed by the rest of the house. In fact, Harry found that once he had left his bedroom (for the last time, he hoped) that noise hit his ears in an explosion of sound. He bent over, crouching low to the ground to put Hedwig and his broom on the floor at the same time as his hands flew to his ears. The sound was overwhelming after two days of near-complete silence, and his head began throbbing almost instantly.

Without realising what he was doing, Harry had moved instinctively back to the silence of the bedroom, where he let out a deep sigh, and placed both of his hands to his aching forehead. Levithan came into the room after him and he heard her give a soft sigh. "I'll have your things sent to Hogwarts after, and we'll Apparate from here then. Does that sound better, Harry?" she asked. Harry noticed that her voice was very soft and considerate of his headache. He nodded once in response to her question, and stood.

A few hours later found him sitting in Gryffindor common room, staring at the fire that roared in the hearth. Neither Ron, nor Hermione had yet arrived, leaving him sitting alone with only the portraits and Hedwig for company. He stroked the snowy owls' feathers absently as he pondered on the information that Professor McGonagall had given him upon his arrival.

There wasn't going to be a new Head of Gryffindor house, not this year at least, because McGonagall and the Ministry had agreed that Hogwarts had to be closed 'until further notice.' This was going to leave Harry, Ron and Hermione in private study for a year. Harry knew that the original plan had been for him to receive the private training, alone, but he was glad that Hermione and Ron were allowed to participate as well. It would be far less lonely.

McGonagall had also informed him that Sarah Levithan was going to be partaking in instructing them. Harry still wasn't sure how he felt about the woman. She was strange, that was for sure. He'd found out from Remus that she'd been a Slytherin when in school, and in the same year as his parents had been, and he also knew that she'd been in the Auror office for three years after graduation. But she'd vanished, without a trace, the same year that Voldemort had fallen. Remus hadn't been sure when she'd re-appeared, but he thought that it had been only a couple of years before Voldemort had risen again.

This had been warning enough for Harry, and had made him very wary of the woman. Her having disappeared at the same time as Voldemort didn't seem right to him and Remus hadn't been able to figure out any reason for it either. But what was he to do? He'd tell Ron and Hermione, when they showed up, that was for sure. He only hoped that they'd see the severity of the situation, and not tell him – yet again – that he was being suspicious for no particular reason.

Until that time though… He sighed and gave Hedwig an owl treat that he'd found in his pocket, "Go up to the Owlery and get some sleep," he murmured to her. She hooted softly at him and took flight, exiting the window silently and flying around the Tower. Harry watched her until she was out of sight, then sighed and stood. He trudged up to his bed in the dormitory and looked around. Nothing felt the same in the castle anymore, not even the bed he'd occupied for the six years he'd been attending Hogwarts. He hoped that it would change when Ron came, but he doubted it.

He dropped onto his bed with another sigh and closed his eyes, contemplating simply sleeping in the common room. Before he could act on the thought, however, he'd fallen into a deep sleep.

Author's Corner

A bit shorter than I usually write, but I didn't want to get the next part of the storyline moving and then leave a cliff-hanger. The next chapter will bring more information about Sarah Levithan, and probably a bit more angst.

Eventually, I'm trying to lead up to a major character death so that the story actually moves faster, but there are some things I had to introduce and lay down. Hopefully, the story will pick up a bit more in chapter four.

Until then---

Completed – December 28/05