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An Old and New World
by Lens of Sanity

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Chapter Seven: Is War Always This Much Fun?

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Stepping off the chugging motorbike and allowing the other man to retake the driving position, Harry looked back at his godfather.

"Well, that was an interesting experience."

"You can't even apparate on your own yet," stated Sirius. "Are you sure you want me to just leave you here?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I've got the portkeys anyway so it's no problem," replied the younger man. "And now that you mention it, soon you are going to have to teach me to apparate."

With a nod of farewell the man and bike disappeared, a loud crack of side‑along apparition signalling Harry's arrival to a well put together suburban neighbourhood on the outskirts of Oxford. Looking about the obsessively maintained gardens Harry was forcibly reminded of where he grew up, only Hermione's muggle home seemed somehow inherently more pleasant. Though truth be told, it was probably just his imagination.

Without pausing he passing what looked like a brand new and clearly expensive car, Harry hammered on the front door in the sunlight of an early August's evening. Harry smirked to himself at what he was about to do, and when the tall imposing figure of Hermione's father dragged open the door he began. "Good evening sir, my name is Harry Potter and I have come to violate your daughter. Would it trouble you overmuch to send for her?"

The man was quite literally shocked into silence by this greeting, shear disbelief that anyone could have said such a thing stupefying the man more effectively than even magic would have been able. Before Mister Granger could reply, his wife appeared behind him. "You must be Harry, Hermione said you would be visiting."

"Charmed," he said trying for a Lockhart smile once again, he was still unsure whether or not he could successfully pull it off. Taking and kissing the back of her hand like Sirius had taught him, he said, "I can certainly see why your daughter is so popular, you are simply gorgeous ma'am."

The man's scowl deepened notably but his wife smiled. "Why don't you come in and have a seat while I fetch her."

"I would love to come in Mrs. Granger." Harry said looking directly at his friend's father.

The man did not imagine the emphasis.

Channelling his uncle Vernon's trademark vein throbbing Mr. Granger was not given the opportunity to speak before Harry found himself engulfed in a bone breaking hug. Library enhanced strength really doing a number on his back. Most people work out, while Hermione fetches tons upon tons of books back and forth from the library. He was amused at the thought, and more so at the fact it was clearly working.

"Good to see you too Hermione. How come you never told me your family drove a Bentley?" Harry asked smiling.

Hermione in turn smiled at her father and said, "You see daddy, I told you that you would like him didn't I? Although I didn't know you were into cars Harry."

The two school friends talked for a while about nothing much and Harry found the older man's restraint quite admirable. Eventually he got on with the reason he was visiting Oxford. "Right Hermione," he said handing her a small teacup. "You said you wanted to come to this meeting the Headmaster is setting up. That teacup is a portkey and it should take you directly to where Sirius and I live. It leaves at about five minutes to nine understand?" she nodded and he handed the girl a piece of parchment written in Albus's loopy hand. "The building is under a Fidelius Charm, so you have to memorise what is written there and I need to destroy it soon afterward."

'The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.'

"Got it?" at her acknowledgement Harry took the paper. "Excuse me a moment, I need to use the bathroom." He stood up, snagged a set of keys with a winged 'B' symbol on them, and headed right out the front door.

The roar of a six litre V8 and the distinctive sound of screeching tires snapped the two Grangers from their thoughts. Once they got out front of the house they were met with nothing save skid marks on their driveway and a four hundred horsepower luxury car vanishing around the corner.

"This. Is. The‑, the... friend, you were telling us about Hermione?" he asked Hermione as she began unconsciously rubbing her temples.

As her mother joined Hermione and her father at the door, she pitched in, "He seemed quite charming to me. Where did he go?"

"I suppose I shouldn't really be surprised." Hermione stated over the top of her father's angry look. "That's just Harry. Some days, most days maybe, he will save your life. But then there are days like today..." she trailed off.

"Days like today? Where he steals my car?"

"Yes. That is actually a pretty good description..." she tiredly answered, turning to head back inside the house. "Some days he steals your car."

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"You told my father I was the school bike didn't you Harry!" Hermione screamed at him a few hours later as he stumbled through the front door of Number Twelve.

"What makes you think that Hermione?" Harry replied putting on a 'taken aback' posture.

With a further scowl the brunette continued, "And what did you do with my father's car? He loves that car you know."

"Actually, this is something you should be thanking me for. That Bentley was a death trap!" insisted Harry. "Did you know it had a blind spot, I mean you would think a car like that wouldn't have such a major design flaw would you?"

As she closed her eyes in an attempt to control her temper the girl calmly ordered, "Explain."

"Well when I was on the trip back, these two really uncool guys in their stupid flashy lighted car sort of started tailing me. And like I said, the damn thing had a blind spot, it's not like it was entirely my fault it happened."

"What are you saying to me Harry?"

"Well..." at her look he just blurted, "I kind of wrapped it around a police car. And then maybe confunded the muggles. And then sort of ran off." 'Protego!' "Gah, Hermione stop hexing me. I really was going to give it back. It was an accident I swear."

The distinguished members of the Order of the Phoenix began flooing in and entering through the door to the scene of an incapacitated fifteen year old. "Ow‑, I'm th‑owie Mi‑nee!" Harry tried to get out behind comically lengthened teeth, an assortment of other minor hexes, and brutally tight ropes of an Incarcerous spell neatly packaging his body.

It was a full thirty minutes later when the damage and resulting explanations had been dealt with, and everyone had been seated in the kitchen to discuss whatever reasons Albus had for called this meeting. What must have been Sirius' cousin, Ms. Nymphy Tonks was across the table, as he'd said the girl was fond of bright colours. Harry idly checked out the metamorph a little as the Headmaster began the meeting with his inane platitudes.

Looking around as each was introduced Harry only recognised a few of the members. Mr. Weasley was there and who Harry would guess was the man's eldest son, but that was it for the redheads. A rumpled guy smelling strongly of firewhiskey was introduced as Dung Fletcher, which Harry thought an appropriate piece of nomenclature. An attractive woman in her mid thirties named Ms. Vance was standing next to that Professor Moody prick who had been teaching last year's Defence class, and the guy's creepy eye seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time swivelled in his direction. A two fingered salute beneath his sleeve was clearly noticed, cementing in Harry's mind that the old bastard spent his time looking through peoples clothing... pervert.

"So how come Snivellus is part of this organisation, has he not killed enough of us for your liking Albus?" Sirius threw out as soon as the introductions were over. There had been other Order meetings but this was the first Harry had been to, and was the first attended at the same time by both Snape and Sirius.

Seeing as his godfather was clearly not going to be answered Harry asked, "I want to know how this one-eyed one-legged sociopath can be involved when he's clearly a danger to society."

"Aye, an' you should be in Azkaban where you belong. I can spot a dark wizard a mile away by smell alone, an' you are just no good boy." spat Moody, and Harry mulled over whether or not he should ask how a person can spot something by smell.

Regardless, the comments started a long round of bickering, which only ended when Dumbledore fired off one of his patented 'cannon blasts' deafening the room. "Now, if we may get on with the meeting, you can all feel free to come to me in private if you have any further concerns. Severus, would you be so kind as to share with us what Voldemort has been doing since his rebirth."

"There is a prophecy in the Department of Mysteries with applies to the Dark Lord, and he has become fixated on its contents. He has several plans on to how obtain it, though I admit to not having the full details as he is sharing his thoughts with no‑one."

Hearing this report Harry found himself glad he never sent that letter by owl post, it really would have scuppered a number of opportunities. When it came his turn to speak, Harry asked one of the questions which had been on his mind lately, "Is there any news on his plans for the Prisoners of Azkaban?"

"The Dark Lord has promised that those Death Eaters are to be rewarded for their loyalty." the Potions Professor sneered out his answer following a long moment of spiteful reflection.

"That's good." Harry stated aloud to himself, and to anyone paying close attention it was clear he was thinking of Bellatrix. "So your main goal as an organisation is to out the guy to the whole world, and prove that I'm not a big lying Dark Lord like the Prophet is painting me. Is that about right?"

The room sat in contemplation for a while, and then went back to bickering. At the end of the meeting Hermione pulled him aside. "Harry, I don't think guarding the Hall of Prophecy is a very good idea, but I do have a different one that I think might work."

"Why didn't you say it to the room Hermione?"

"Because I wanted to run it by you first and we are going to need Luna's help."

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Almost a month later found Harry Potter and his good friends Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood walking down the shopping district of Diagon Alley searching out all the school supplies needed for the upcoming year. The school term started once more in just a few short days and this was the best time to get everything done in one sitting, although on the downside the streets were packed with other shoppers and their parents, all with similar ideas. A few fearful looks were shot at the "Dark Lord" and his female companions, but that the boy had been forced to deal with such things was to be expected thanks to the recent avalanche of bad press.

Suddenly a huge jagged bolt of lightning struck powerfully right in the middle of the street, when the light and smoke cleared a thick stench of ozone hung heavily in the air, and there stood the seven foot, noseless figure of the Dark Lord Voldemort. He was accompanied by a triad of masked Death Eaters, and a fourth which was the clearly unmasked form of one Lucius Malfoy.

"Avast! Harry Potter. My great nemesis. You shall not escape me this time. Ha. Ha. Ha. Haa!" Lord Voldemort cackled beneath a 'Sonorus' as the shoppers all took note of what was happening. Many of them took cover, or scattered in flight altogether while the two foes looked one another over with scorn.

Harry turned with confidence, squarely facing his adversary. "Ah, Voldemort. We meet once again, do you like my boots?" gesturing down to the accessory crafted from blue‑grey dragon leather.

"Yes‑sss of course I do, they scream 'Harry Potter: Dragon Slayer.' But now is not the time, for we must duel. Is that not right Lucius‑sss Malfoy?" intoned Voldemort, the ess's dropping off into Parseltongue.

The two traded tremendous blows back and forth, big bright flashes of light and an immense conclave of energy bleeding off the Dark Lord made the duel one for the history books. The First Battle of Diagon Alley it would eventually be named, the opening skirmish in Voldemort's second war.

"Crucio!"

Luna Lovegood went down in agonised screaming and Harry Potter from his knees shouted a big, "Noooo!"

"I'll get you my pretty, and your little dog too!" The Dark Lord taunted to his disheartened opponent.

Just when things looked to be at their worst a powerful beard stepped into the middle of the battle, protecting the injured Luna and the exhausted Harry. "You cannot hope to win Tom, the light side is more powerful than you can possibly imagine. And Lucius, I cannot say I am surprised to see you here today."

With that the aged Headmaster and the feared Dark Lord begin to battle in earnest. An even more impressive duel broke out with both opponents flaring a Visible Aura, bright flashes of spellfire were unleashed as the two traded thunderous crashes of terrible energy. Eventually the Aurors showed up, witnessing several bone shattering spells harmlessly splash over an Imprimis shield Voldemort somehow cast with wandless abilities, and the team even heard a parting message intoned by the fleeing Dark Lord.

"Avast! You may have won this time Dumbledore, but you cannot stop me forever. For I am invincible, Bwahahaha!"

With that Voldemort and the Death Eaters were gone from Diagon Alley, and the world now knew of the Dark Lord's rebirth.

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"Harry, why in heaven's name did you keep saying Avast!?" Hermione asked him as he set about removing the glamours which were making him look like Voldemort.

"What?" the black haired fifteen year old answered with a questioning look, "Voldemort speaks in a pirate voice doesn't he?"

Hermione face palmed and Luna, the polyjuice potion charged with Harry's hair running its course, answered with the boy's distinctive tone, "Not as far as I'm aware Harry. You were supposed to go for a kind of sibilant hiss. Remember?"

"Oh yeah..." mused Harry. "Whatever, a pirate voice is close enough. How did your simulacrum hold up to my Cruciatus Curse Luna?"

"It's toast. I am actually surprised at how good you are at the Torture Curse." Her usual distracted nature of speech was permeating the altered tone.

Harry thought on it a while and intimated, "I think about Lucius Malfoy slipping an eleven year old Ginny Weasley the Diary. I kind of really do want him to feel agonising pain. Is that weird?"

"A little, but I suppose that's a better emotion to use than most." stated Lucius, his image returning to the purple haired form of Sirius' cousin from her position between Harry's godfather and the two other Order members who were setting about removing their fake Death Eater garb.

Hermione just let go of any attempt to reason with Harry and instead turned to her other friend, "What about you Luna, was it really necessary to talk about his boots?"

"Harry is always going on about his boots. It made it look more authentic."

"You know she's right Hermione. My boots are awesome, of course the Dark Lord would comment on them before a duel." said Harry, standing up for the blonde. "Besides, I think Luna does a very good me impersonation."

With a look to the heavens she replied, "You guys are the worst actors in the world. There is no way anyone is going to believe that was really Voldemort. You two totally ruined my perfectly good plan."

"Magical people are idiots Hermione, of course it's going to work. Here, I'll bet you a Galleon tomorrow's Prophet backs me up."

The brunette did not reply.

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Earlier that morning Harry, Hermione, and Luna were manhandling a mannequin up Hogwarts stairs for a scheduled meeting with the Headmaster. It was empty for a while and Hermione spent the waiting time clearly enamoured with Fawkes the phoenix who was currently in the chickadee stage of his life cycle. When Dumbledore entered Harry didn't hesitate more than a few seconds before tossing out the reason they asked to meet with the old man.

"We've spent most of this month coming up with a way to out your Dark Lord."

"Really? And here I was under the impression that you 'did not wish to involve yourself in the wizarding world's problems.' I believe those were the words you used, were they not?" Dumbledore stroked his beard idly and then offered, "Would any of you like some tea?"

After shaking his head Harry transfigured a glass and poured in a vial of amortentia as the other two took the proffered tea. "I still don't really want anything to do with the whole Voldemort situation. As far as I'm concerned that's got sod all to do with me, but if you'd been reading the Daily Prophet about three weeks ago the kine started going on about charging me with sedition and throwing me back into Azkaban."

"Yes, I am aware. Although I am unsure as to whether they would succeed."

"You will forgive me if I assume the worst I'm sure." Harry said flatly, irritated resignation barely bleeding through at all. "Anyway, Hermione came up with an idea and after a bit of tweaking we cobbled together a plan. I pose as Voldemort, talk parsel, and get into a duel with someone polyjuiced to look like me. We eventually decided that in order to make it more believable I should toss about some Unforgivables as well as go with an escort of Death Eaters."

The old man was thinking this over as he took a drink. "Go on."

"You know what a simulacrum is I am guessing?" Harry asked the Professor.

"A rough statue made of snow, given a heart of stone and treated with ointments not unlike polyjuice potion, charged with a person's blood to give it that person's shape and form, then animated with advanced magics."

"And Luna volunteered to play the part of "Harry," so we are going to charge this one with her blood." Gesturing to the mannequin the trio had dragged into his office, the boy looked at the Headmaster directly, offering the full force of his green eyed stare.

"If you have gotten as far as the uncharged form, I would assume you have found the method of creation somewhere in the Black Library, given that a large number of spells necessary for their construction are illegal in this country."

Harry just nodded. "We were unable to complete the final three spells ourselves, so we need you to do it. And we have another proposition if you agree to help."

"What is this other proposition?"

"We were thinking that you should come and be all 'fire and brimstone' Dumbledore and chase off "Voldemort," but mostly we thought that Snape could betray the plan and cement his loyalty in the Dark Lord's ranks... you were going on about how he hasn't yet proven himself remember? Besides, if Snape makes it seem like he was lucky to hear about my plan, and makes sure to tell his master that it had nothing to do with you, it shouldn't matter too much that the information gets to Voldemort too late for Snape to have made any difference."

After a few more moments in contemplation Albus nodded his assent, and Luna handed the man both necessary books. As he got to work completing her replica Dumbledore commented, "I believe Nymphadora would be a good choice in accompanying you thanks to her rather unique talents."

Two and a half hours later Luna activated her polyjuice potion, charging it with Harry's hair, noting that the concoction turned absolutely transparent and had no taste whatsoever.

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"I can't believe Sirius is making me ride the Express again!" Harry said in annoyance on the first of September. Luna was sitting in the same compartment reading a magazine sideways and Harry noticed that the glamour making it look like a Quibbler was not as good as it might have been.

Hermione had been forced to hand over seventeen fresh Sickles when the Prophet predictably went all out proclaiming the second rise of the Dark Lord, and how Harry was once again the saviour of the wizarding world. Lucius Malfoy had actually been arrested, but he was claiming it was a polyjuice imposter and not really him, so it was doubtful that he would be charged. Not that it would matter overmuch thanks to what happened two days after their little escapade down Diagon Alley.

Harry was actually incapacitated by his scar breaking open the instant Voldemort learned about the execution of Hermione's plan. The Dark Lord had been unhappy that his being alive again was now known to the whole world, or maybe it was the laughably obvious way in which it had occurred that upset him. The emotional surge of outrage and fury had been strong enough to blast through Harry's skill at Occlumency and knock the boy unconscious. Looked like yet another annoying side effect from being a Horcrux, but Harry was taking it in stride.

This move against the Dark Lord by the quote, unquote "Light Side" caused a near instant retaliation. Voldemort had stepped up his plan to deal with Azkaban, and two days ago all the Death Eaters who had been calling the castle their home for the past fourteen years were freed. Including Bellatrix Lestrange, much to Harry's approval, and to the dismay everyone else.

Settled in the compartment Hermione disrupted this train of thought, as well as his attempt to scope a glance at Luna's centrefold. "Do you really have no intension of getting involved in this war Harry?"

"That's right," he answered once he managed to pull his thoughts back to the present. "Now that they know their Dark Lord really is alive, the masses are no longer threatening me with prison, so why would I want to get involved? People die in wars you know."

"Voldemort is not going to stop trying to kill you though, you know that."

"Maybe, maybe not." The boy said. "Perhaps, once he realises that I don't particularly want to kill him anymore he will leave me alone. Besides, the guy is a pushover. I've killed him what? Four times now."

"So you are just going to go to school like a normal teenager?" asked Hermione.

Pondering the question for a moment Harry said, "More or less. I'd probably immigrate to France or something if not for Gerard Delacour putting a capture or kill order on me in case I ever set foot in his country."

They talked for a while as the train whisked them toward school and their fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hermione seemed to get it into her head that Harry was missing Fleur Delacour for some crazy reason, which eventually forced Harry to silence her and go back to trying to read Luna's dirty magazine over her shoulder.

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Further down the train Draco Malfoy was getting a feeling similar to the jitters one got before an important game of Quidditch. That familiar mixture of excitement and nervousness which kept a person worried but at the same time determined not to make a mistake.

He had learned the hard way not to directly provoke Potter, it hadn't taken Draco too long at the beginning of last year to learn to be wary of him. The casually violent and dismissive nature his nemesis acted toward perceived threats ever since his year in Azkaban was not something to take lightly. And as luck would have it the task he'd been given was fairly straightforward, and better yet would not necessitate any contact with the aggravating Griffindor.

He was under a Disillusionment Charm and standing perfectly still so as to remain as invisible as possible in a small nook barely in sight of the boy's bathroom. He had been there for over two hours waiting for the opportunity to complete his assignment.

The Dark Lord had a well founded belief that children were unreliable, and under most circumstances did not allow soldiers who were still in school to accept tasks. However once Draco heard of the mission from his father he'd volunteered, knowing as he had his whole life that he would one day join the ranks of the Death Eaters just like his father before him. He believed that successfully completing a mission for the Dark Lord at such a young age would put him on the fast track to the Inner Circle now that his father's master had been reborn.

So when he spied Longbottom moving toward the bathroom Draco whispered four syllables and performed the six wandmotions. One word well drilled over the previous summer, safe beneath the wards of Malfoy Manor:

"Imperio!"