A:N/ Thx to Princess Fictoria for beating, please read authors note at the bottom.

Voldemort had been pacing his chambers for the past hour now, trying to figure out his next move. He knew from his spy, that the Conway brothers had been split up. So he knew that the best time to get to Harry Conway was now. He stopped, sat back down in his throne and smiled. The prophecy had been great help, and the sooner he killed the Conway boy the better.

He had planned four separate attacks, to kill each of the boys, and the Potters, and perhaps something to keep Dumbledore busy as well, he pondered as an afterthought. But looking around at his servants, he knew that before he could attack, he needed to do more recruitment.

"Wormtail," Tom hissed, calling his servant to the middle of the room. Trembling, Peter rose from his kneeling position and faced his master.

"Y-Yes m-m-mater?" he stuttered.

"Come closer Wormtail, I have much for you to do. Our numbers are dwindling. I need you, Avery, Crabbe, Goyle, Bella, Macnair, and perhaps Fenrir Greyback to gather more followers."

"Fenrir Greyback, master?" Peter quivered. If there were one man he did not want to work with, it was Greyback.

"Yes," Voldemort said smiling evilly. "Fenrir can be quiet…persuasive. Oh and Wormtail, Crucio! Never question me again!"

After four or five minutes of torture, Wormtail got up from the floor, knelt in front of his master and kissed his robes.

"Yes master, thank you master for your k-kindness," he stuttered, and quickly left.

Voldemort sat back in his throne and smiled, knowing Harry Potter wouldn't live to see his next birthday.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Drake Conway swept the dungeons of Snape manor, watching out for the house elves who were suppose to be watching him, using his shadow magic whenever he felt one getting close.

"Thank God for order meetings," he muttered. Snape would be gone for at least two hours, which gave Drake ample time to snoop.

Most of the doors that were in the basement were potion storages, and labs. Drake sighed and used his wandless magic to unlock doors, trying to find something that would unravel the mystery that was his Godfather.

Over the past week of his stay with the Potion's Master, Drake had been given free reign of the house with some exceptions, including the Potion's masters room, and the dungeons. So, naturally, Drake chose the dungeons as the starting point of his exploration.

He opened the last door locked door in the basement and stumbled back, hitting the wall in shock.

"Well this is interesting," he muttered, and stepped into the dimly lit room. "Harry will surely be interested in this."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Nick sat in his room at the Uncle's house and sighed. If boredom killed, he would have been dead only an hour after arrival.

He picked up his keyboard, but promptly put it down. He didn't even have the energy to play. His Uncle was currently passed out in the sitting room, and had been sleeping for over three hours now. He didn't blame his uncle for being old, but he figured if it were him, and his nephew was coming to stay for the first time in fourteen years, he would at least make the effort to stay awake. His uncle merely told him to go find something with which to amuse himself.

He needed to talk to his brothers. He needed to make sure Jake was okay, but he knew with monitoring charms on his room, no doubt placed by Dumbledore, he needed to think of a contingency plan. He needed a way for him and his brothers to get the hell out of Britain.

Picking up his keyboard he played a few notes before smacking both of his hands down hard on the keyboard. "I'm so fucking stupid," he swore to himself. Of course he knew how to get him and his brothers out of Britain, and there was nothing that old Dumbles could do about it. But he knew it had to wait. He had to follow his father's plan. Above all else, it had to be done.

And three days later he got his answer. He contacted two out of his three brothers and set up a midnight meeting. It was time, as the Americans like to say, to get the hell out of dodge.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

The Order of the Phoenix met every week at the same time in the ancient house of Black. The room was full of willing followers; all hanging on Dumbledore's every word. Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling madly, at the group assembled.

"And how is our guest doing, Sirius?" he asked.

Sirius grunted in response. "He doesn't talk. All he does is sit there and meditate. He eats the food the house elf gives him, and sleeps, but I have yet to hear him talk. He doesn't even question why he is here like…"

"Like what?" Mad eye moody asked, his magical eye spinning around the room.

"Like he somehow knew it would come down to this," Sirius said, his voice full of doubt.

"Preposterous," Snape said, "as if Simon could be powerful enough to read the headmaster's thoughts." He said with his usual sneer.

Loud chatter broke out around the room, rumors catching like wild fire, with order members speculating, just how powerful was Simon Conway?

"Well if he didn't even put up a fight when apprehended by three wizards and two witches, how powerful could he really be?" Hannah Prescott asked from the corner of the room.

James regarded the History Professor with a look of apprehension. She had become an order member shortly after she joined the school, but he still had his doubt about her, and even though Albus said that his fears were unwarranted, he couldn't help but feel uneasy around the woman. Somehow he knew that there was more to her then she was leading every to believe.

"How is Harry, James?" Dumbledore asked, and frowned when he saw James shift uncomfortably in his seat. "Is something the matter, my boy?"

James sighed, took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Harry," he said at last, "is being rather difficult."

Snape opened his mouth to reply, but was stopped with a sharp look from Dumbledore.

"How so," Dumbledore asked gently.

James hesitated before finally saying, "I get the feeling that he is planning something. Like when he first came to the manor, I expected him to lash out at us, but he hasn't. He doesn't talk, which I can understand, I know he has to get settled in and all, but just the way he looks at Lily and I, I just get the feeling that whatever he is planning, doesn't bode well for the rest of us."

Dumbledore rewarded James with one of his grandfatherly smiles and reassured him that things were going to be okay.

"Is Lily at home with the boys now?" he asked gently.

James swallowed hard and nodded, "yes."

"Very well, I will by sometime tomorrow afternoon to start Harry's training, perhaps he will open up to me."

And although he didn't say it, the order got the message loud and clear. Harry will open up to Albus one way or the other.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

The next day, dawned brought and clear as Dumbledore gracefully stepped through the fireplace of the Potter home. He politely declined Lily's offer for coffee or tea and followed James to the drawing room, where he was told that Harry would be waiting.

Harry was leaning against the farthest wall of the room, in a wife beater tee, and a pair of loose black jeans that hung on his hips, popping gum. His hair was standing up in messy blue spikes, and he looked like he would rather be anywhere else but where he was right now.

"Ah, hello Harry my boy, and how are you on this fine summer day? Enjoying your vacation I hope," Dumbledore said as pleasant as possible.

Harry only started at him, his faced void of any emotion.

Dumbledore clasped his hands together and smiled, ignoring the look that Harry gave him. "Well my boy, as you know with the threat of Voldemort growing, I feel that you need special training so that you would be ready Voldemort when and if you should even meet him. I understand that you already know Occumency, would you mind if I tested your shields. I have reason to believe that Voldemort will try to use the link he has with your through your scar to try and harm you, or worse try and use your memories and knowledge to his advantage. I feel that it is important that we test your shields to make sure that Voldemort cannot look in your mind or even posse you. Surely, you understand?"

Harry gave the headmaster a feral grin but didn't respond. Oh was this going to be fun.

OoOoOoOoO

An hour later, Dumbledore stumbled out of the drawing room, clutching his head. He reluctantly accepted James and Lily's help to the nearest chair and gratefully collapsed. He downed the headache potion in one gulp, not even wincing when the foul concoction slid down his throat.

"Albus, what happened?" Lilly asked, watching her oldest son slink up the stairs, his feet never making a sound on the hardwood floors.

"Did Harry attack you?" James asked, failing to suppress his anger.

Dumbledore could only shake his head no, not having enough strength to speak.

"What happened," Lily asked more gently, waiting for the potion to take affect. She set a cup of tea in front of him and waited patiently for Albus to answer.

"I agree with you on your earlier thought, James." He said his hands trembling as he sipped his tea. "Harry does not want to be here, and he made sure that I understood that." He put down his tea and brought his hand up to rub his head again.

"What did he do," James asked bitingly.

"He didn't attack me physically," Dumbledore assured. "But I wanted to see how strong his occumency shields were, and…"

"He attacked you with his mind," Lily finished.

"Quiet forcefully, I might add, he added his eyes twinkling again, knowing what was going to happen.

"Excuse me," James said gritting his teeth, "while I go talk to me son."

"You mustn't be too hard on his James," Dumbledore said, the worst of his headache subsiding.

James only scoffed in reply.

"What do you think Albus," Lily asked once James was out of sight.

"I believe that you, as his parents, just need to reinforce that he is here for good. Don't stop trying to get through to him. It might be difficult for awhile, but he needs to know that you are not going to give up on him."

James returned holding Harry by the scruff of his shirt.

"Well," he demanded looking at his son.

Harry looked at his watch and waited.

"Well," James said again, this time louder.

But before Harry could even think to say something, there was a knock at the door.

"Right on time,' Harry said brightly as Lily answered the door.

The minister of magic, stood with papers clutched in his hands, his faced a light shade of purple. He stood there with three other men all dressed in black robes that seemed to shimmer in the afternoon sun, and behind them were Jake, Nick and Drake.

Dumbledore stood immediately, his face set in anger.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.

"Now, now old man," said the blacked robed man jovially. "No need for such an out lash. We are from The Wizarding Ministry of America, and understand that you are holding three of our citizens against there will."

"Preposterous!" James yelled, holding Harry tighter.

But as the three men held out their wands on James, he immediately loosened his grip.

"Let go of the boy," the first man said through gritted teeth.

"He is my son!" James yelled. Lily jumped up with her wand drawn to stand beside her husband. "I will not let him go!"

TBC

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