So I had to read another fic before updating. I'm going to put the last few lines in the chap here so I, and you readers, don't forget what's going on. Sorry if this chap is boring, however, it's needed. If only I could make it as long as other stories… Anyways. On with it. Before I forget though, don't own, bla bla bla.

"Harry Potter," the voice said calmly, yet with a hint of arrogance. "I am Ballam."

"How did you get a hold of this mirror!" Harry exclaimed coldly at the person, thing that had his Godfather's mirror.

"I acquired when Serious passed on. I'm must unfortunate about his passing. However, it was necessary. I know this raises anger within you. Let me explain."

Ballam paused, looking into Harry's eyes. Harry, looking still into those black fathomless eyes, couldn't stop the outburst.

"Who are you?"

"It shouldn't be who, as much as what."

"Explain," Harry demanded.

"I intended to. I am an Archon. I believe, am certain, you haven't heard of me. I will only be able to provide little here, and leave you with questions. That however is expected. In due time your questions will be answered. Now, on with it.

I am what you would consider as a race you'd never hear about on the history of the earth. We helped in the shape of you. Wizards and non-wizards alike.

Our race started back over three millennia ago. We, the creature of the humans, were born of two other races, which I will not mention at this time. It's irrelevant.

The Archons made several contacts throughout history. World war II, Merlin, and even you former headmaster, received our help. He didn't know it, however, his phoenix did. I possessed the bird to provide some useful information on advising you, Harry."

Harry looked perplexed at this. He looked at Ballam's face in the mirror. He sighed to himself, barely able to keep his voice to a minimum.

"You brought me up?"

"Not at all. I merely poked Dumbledore in the right direction. His death was not needed, nor did I take it lightly. It was, however, something I couldn't ignore. So here I am leaving contact up to us again. You, however, are one of the first in this casement to see me.

Your enemy, Tom, has acquired the help of a similar being. This one, is that of human, Archon, and machine. His mane will be of no important.

I'm here to forewarn you Harry. You will need to do things I bid to make this war end for the wizards and non wizards alike."

Harry sighed, taking all the new information in.

"I'm going to show you something Harry. It'll be tonight when you sleep. I suggest you make for your family and love. You know where to go."

Ballam's face vanished. Harry sat on the swing, dumbfounded at the message told to him.

Gathering his thoughts, Harry stuck out his right arm. With a bang, the night buss stopped nearly in his lap. Stan Shunpike stepped out, and bowed.

"Greetings. How may I," he stopped, seeing who sat in front of him on the swing. "Let me get that Mr. Potter."

Stan and Harry together tossed his belongings in the buss, and Stand asked where he'd like to go. Being the only passenger, he was at the burrow in no time.

"He gathered his things and set up towards the home he loved.

Mrs. Weesely sat with her daughter, talking animatedly about their plans for the summer. They had a cup of tea in front of them, and Ginny's legs swung idly, brushing the tips of her bare toes on the wooden floor.

"Mom? What's that glint in your eye for?

"It's Harry's birthday! Did you send him a letter?"

With the mention of the name, the young girl's head hit the table with a thud.

"What's wrong dear?"

"I don't want to talk about him. Not now mother, and won't for a while!" She outburst.

"Ginny, please, do not talk to me like that," Mrs. Weesely said, almost yelling.

"Sorry mum," was all that accompanied the upset girl to leave.

"I'll do it. I guess there's no harm."

At that time, she heard a knock on her door, and grabbed her wand. Running to the door, she yelled, "Who's there?"

"It's Harry," Harry said.

Arthur Weesely, hearing the knock rand downstairs, naked, with his wand in hand.

"I didn't have time to dress. The death eaters are here! Leave now before I open up hexing, dark one!"

Harry sighed, and reached for the door. "If they won't open, I will."

When the door was pushed open, a hex flew past his ear. Harry wad forced to drop to his stomach to dodge. His black cloak was tucked over his head.

"Die follow or You Know Who!"

"Mr. Weeseley, aaahhhh!"

Harry rolled and jumped to his feet. Hex after hex flew his way, and he jumped out of the way, squashing a chicken as he moved. He jumped at Arthur, knocking him to the ground. He then revived a punch to the nose.

"Death eater!" Was all Mr. Weesely got out before a redhead army flew out the door, knocking Harry to his back?

Harry, tossing Ron off him, stood, and caught a blast of light in the face. His cloak started on fire. George had charged him, club in hand.

Casting off the cloak, Harry ducked, taking the blow on his shoulder, hearing a loud crunch. Running past, he jumped up two stairs at a time, bursting through the first door he saw. To his dismay, he saw a red haired beauty lying on the bed.

He couldn't get a glimpse of the face, however, he slammed the door regardless, collapsing to the ground, nursing his shoulder.

The girl turned to look at him, realizing who it was, her eyes becoming dispassionate.

Down with the other Weesely's, Molly picked up the burning cloak. She turned towards her husband, and said, "Ginny!"

Ron beat her upstairs, and burst through the door, breaking the stare down.

"Mate? What the bloody fuck is you doing here? Mum and dad are going to kill ya!" He said with a smile.
"Wouldn't be the first Weesely to try," he said, looking at Ginny sheepishly, "She almost did it at the end of second year, remember?"

Harry stood, nursing his shoulder as George ran up the stairs. He took one glance at his club, then the death eater standing before him.

"Sorry mate. Hope I broke your shoulder."

"Yeah. That would have been cool. Then we could use our mending mints."

"Yeah. Is it broken Harry? Is it?"

"That's enough, kids," Mrs. Weesely ran up, bulling George aside.

"What are you doing here Harry? The order is going to be angry with this."

"I'm not following an order of the order, no pun intended, but of, someone else. Myself," Harry quickly lied.

"I'll get the mint!" George said, running.

"Come downstairs. We all owe you an apology," she said, tears moistening in her eyes, "I'm sorry."

"I understand. Even though, next time, believe me?"

Downstairs they all went, a shocked Ginny following. George, grabbing Harry by the shoulder pressed a mint into his hand. Harry, popping it into his mouth without thinking, followed.

By the time he arrived, his arm was now feeling remarkably better. He looked at Gred and Forge.

"Well, that worked nicely eh mate?"

"It did Fred,"

"It did not!" an enraged Molly Weesely shouted.

Harry looked down at his, 13, arms, making a mental note that he knew it was a bad idea to try those mints.

"Sure it did. He's got 12 working arms now."

Mrs. Weesely, cooking, yelling, slapping, summoning, and fixing Harry was a busy woman. Harry, two properly working arms, ate hungrily.

"Bed," was all Mrs. Weesely said before pushing him upstairs. "We'll talk tomorrow."

Ballam was looking up and down Harry again.

"I'm going to send you an image."

Harry nodded, and felt a caress on his mind. Not like that of a wizard reading his mind, but he automatically threw up his defenses.

"Don't fight me It's futile," the voice said.

The form of a human formed in Harry's mind. A red headed girl turned to face him, stone pale, and crying. The image flashed to that of him kissing her after the quiddage game.

"She's someone you might consider talking with."

The image then was interrupted. Ballam's form vanished, and a man in black, standing next to Lord Voldamort swam into view. The newcomer had adjusted his shades and began to speak.

"Hello. I've been, meddling, if you'd like to call it that. My friend Tom here said you should know something from him. They are hidden; no thanks to me I can say. Actually I can't. I don't remember which one is true in your casement's time."

"The both of the are true good sir Thrush."

"Right, thanks tom. Anyways. Consider this a friendly meeting. Hope we don't meet again, Harry."

"As for me, good friend. I'll plant you with your muggle loving parents soon enough. Prepare to die on your precious girl's birthday. She'll like my present."

A crude laugh followed. Harry's eyes flew open, and he was on the floor. The whole Weesely family surrounding him.

Cliffhanger, again. I'm hoping to get reviews. Sorry if my formatting sucks. I can't see it after it's posted. My screen reader reads it fine. If someone, however, would like to help me with this thing called, what was it? Oh yeah. Editing let me know. Suggestions and criticisms welcome.