"Wow, Harry," Ron said, looking over at his marks. "How the hell did you do that?"

"What did you get?"

"You know A's and E's. Of course, you and I were always going to fail Divination." He looked at his scores. "Well I got and E in potions. Who'd a thought?"

They both look over at Hermione. She seemed to be slightly upset. They both went up behind her and looked at her scores. After swearing for a few seconds Ron said. "Jesus Christ, why the sad face? The only thing you didn't get an O in was Defence against the dark arts." He looked at Hermione who still seemed to be upset. "Oh God. One E and she start moping. You can't be disappointed can you! You knew you could never beat Harry. He's the boy who lived. A child prodigy." Harry glared at him.

"So what are we going to take then?" Hermione said, obviously trying to get off the subject of her report. "It all depends on what we want as a career."

"Well I only got an E in Potions. Say good bye to me being an Auror." Harry looked at his paper sadly. He had been very impressed with his report, but realised now that without that extra mark for Potions, he could never be an Auror. "I can't imagine what else I'm gonna do. Maybe I'll play Quidditch for the rest of my life." As much as Harry loved Qudditch, the idea of doing nothing else for the rest of his life wasn't a happy prospect.

"Don't worry Harry," Mr Weasley said behind him. Turning around Harry looked at Mr Weasley, who had a sly expression upon his face. "Dumbledore has had a talk to professor Snape. Apparently, only a few people in your year actually managed to get Outstanding, and there wasn't enough to make a whole class, so students with Exceeds Expectations can also join if they want to." He smiled at Harry. "So don't give up hope yet. We could really use someone as invincible as you in the ministry." He gave Harry a good-natured slap on the shoulder, noticing the pissed off expression on Harry's face once again. Why couldn't they just stop teasing him about that?

"Well, I suppose we had better get you equipment then hadn't we?" said Mrs Weasley, looking at their booklists. "Of to Diagon Alley we go."

As soon as they were all ready, they lined up in front of the fire, and each took a handful of the floo powder. Harry grimaced slightly when it was his turn. His previous experiences with floo powder weren't at all pleasant.

He stepped into the flames, dropped the powder, and was about to say Diagon Alley, when his scar suddenly felt as if it had been ripped open. He screamed, and then was whisked away through the fireplaces, his scar searing. It stopped as suddenly as it had started and he was thrown full pelt through a fireplace entrance. His heart racing he stared around, his hands rummaging through his pockets in search for his glasses and wand. When he put on his glasses he looked at his surroundings carefully, trying to establish where he was. With a jolt of inner pain, he realised that he was in a very familiar place. He started to shake slightly, his heart throbbing inside his chest. Tears welled up in his eyes.

He was in the kitchen of the Black House. He stood up, trying to control his shakes, and headed towards the door. Opening it he looked through he hallway. Mrs Black seemed to be asleep, so Harry slipped silently past her, and headed to the living room. He heard voices, and tapped on the door slightly. The voices ceased and the sound of footsteps grew closer. The door opened and Harry looked up to see Professor Dumbledore. Dumbledore's forehead creased in confusion.

"Harry, how did you get here?" he asked staring at him.

Harry gulped and replied. "I was going to Diagon Alley, but my scar started to hurt, and I screamed-""

Dumbledore held up his hand, silencing Harry. "Your scar hurt again?"

"Yeah, except it was worse than usual." Why, sir?"

"Did you feel any particular emotion?"

Harry thought back, straining to think past the searing pain. "Angry, and frustrated. You think something might have happened?" already suspecting the answer.

"Yes, it seems that our plan worked." Dumbledore seemed to be saying this more to himself than to Harry. Coughing slightly, he turned, motioning for Harry to follow. Harry looked around at the group of people assembled. It seemed most of the Order were there. They all looked up at him, in surprise. Lupin smiled and walked over to him.

"Harry, what are you doing here?" he asked patting Harry on the back.

"I seems that our plan worked quite well." Dumbledore said happily. "Harry was in the middle of getting to Diagon Alley when he was struck by a series of rather unhappy emotions. It would appear that the Floo powder brought him here."

"Well, why don't you come sit down Harry? Just until we get into contact with the Weasley's." Lupin waved his wand, and a chair appeared. Harry sat, down, and said hello to the rest of the Order. He noticed that Snape didn't seem to be there, and for this he was extremely glad. He didn't think he could face that annoying fuck-wit right now. After the greetings were made, the Order began to Question him on his accident.

"Harry do you remember anything else?" asked Tonks, a kind, yet extremely clumsy witch. "I mean, did you only get the feelings or did you perhaps get a vision as well?

Harry shook his head. "I only felt really angry, and m scar hurt. That was it. Next thing I'm here." He looked around, trying to hold in his tears. So many memories of Sirius. Him being happy at having guests for Christmas, being moody, and depressed. The memories of Sirius's depression were the ones that effected Harry the most. Sirius had been trapped in this wretched house. He escaped from the house, only to fall through that Archway, and meet his doom. Along with this gloomy trail of thoughts came a surging anger. An anger towards himself for being so foolish as to fall for Voldemort's plan, towards Dumbledore, for forcing Sirius to stay trapped like a prisoner, and a small bit aimed at Sirius for being so careless.

He immediately felt ashamed. How could he possibly think that way of Sirius? It wasn't his fault at all. It was Bellatrix! How he loathed the very thought of her. His hands started to shake with anger, and he clenched his teeth in rage.

The Order looked at the young man peculiarly. His suppressed anger was mounting, and with a cry so sudden and loud, it made them jump. Harry let out all his anger in that one simple scream; a scream aimed at all the Death Eaters. With that yell, he vowed that he would go to the ends of the earth to get his revenge.

"I WILL KILL YOU BELLATRIX, NO MATTER WHAT IT TAKES!I WILL GET YOU IF I HAVE TO RIP THE WORLD APPART TO REACH YOU!"

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