Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Harry Potter or the actaul locations mentioned in the story

January 3, 1998

Harry Potter groaned as he saw several slivers of sunlight peaking through the curtain in his bedroom. It wouldn't have been so bad if the light wasn't aimed directly at his face. He lifted his head off of his pillow just a fraction, just enough to pull it out from beneath him and place it over his face. It would have been nice to go back to sleep, but as hard as his mind tried to convince his body, it was of no use. Throwing his pillow to the floor, he sat up and leaned back against the headboard of his double bed.

The room he was in wasn't extremely large, but it was sufficient enough to hold a bed, desk, and armoire. Now any normal teenager's room would be adorned with posters and other adolescent things, but Harry Potter wasn't any normal seventeen year old. Instead his room held, aside from a few family photographs, a wand, a sword, and a couple sets of body armor. These items certainly weren't there for decorative purposes.

No, Harry Potter wasn't normal or average; he was a wizard. What few knew about him though, was that he was fated to destroy the most powerful, evil wizard currently in existence—The Dark Lord Albus Dumbledore. Almost seventeen years ago he had come forward and taken control of the magical parts of the United Kingdom. Anyone who had been against his pureblood supremacy movement had been outlawed and exiled—including Harry's family. In the time that had passed, Dumbledore had done what he promised and systematically removed the majority of the muggle population of the United Kingdom. He had taken command over the governments by invading the minds of its leaders and manipulating the people. First, funding and troop levels were cut to the military, then government intervention caused huge financial and employment losses in the marketplace. The government pulled out of diplomatic relations with other nations and shut its borders to outsiders. While the countries fell into a depression and the people were extremely disheartened, Dumbledore struck a final, fatal blow. He ordered his soldiers to create disasters that were staged to look like terrorist attacks and natural disasters. The high loss of life encouraged many people to flee their home countries. Once that began, the government was finally brought down to a complete collapse, and just to destroy morale, Dumbledore eliminated the Royal Family who had stubbornly refused to leave. All other influential countries deemed the United Kingdom as a complete loss and accepted the flow of people who had chose to flee. Now there was only around ten percent of the muggle population left, most concentrated in England. Dumbledore knew about these remaining muggles and he was just waiting for the appropriate moment to destroy them.

However, there was a group of people that Dumbledore had no clue about. The U.M.R., or the United Magical Resistance, was made up of the magical users and their families who Dumbledore and the Wizengamot had banished away. The original group that had met on November 1, 1981 were totaled about one thousand including all the family members and an additional fifteen hundred had been convinced to join after the news of Dumbledore's ascension to power had come to light. The idea of Harry's father, James, of entrenching their group into a system of castles had been a fortunate success. In the years that had passed they had managed to build their own working society within the castles. James Potter and Sirius Black had bought three castles through the goblins before they made the act of leaving. They secured the muggle Pembroke Castle in Wales, Warwick Castle in England, and Markree Castle in Ireland. Then, a few years later after most of Scotland had been deserted, they snuck in and took control of Edinburgh Castle, also taking a fortified manor house, Stokesay Castle, in England. To protect the castles, numerous wards had been used, but it helped even more that Dumbledore and the pureblood community was completely ignorant of muggle historical structures.

Each castle was managed by one wizard or witch, and when a collective decision was needed they met in a council that was open to every person to witness and offer their opinons. Harry's father was the leader of Warwick, Amelia Bones the leader of Pembroke, a former Wizengamot member, Richard McNally, the leader of Markree, and Alastor Moody the leader of Edinburgh. Stokesay Castle was only use for training and the occasional game of quidditch due to its openness so there wasn't a need for it to be managed. The structures had all been modified and reinforced to meet the inhabitants' needs. A restricted floo access had been created to allow travel in between all the castles and another location in mainland Europe that was used to bring in supplies. The main things that they brought in were food and clothing, but there were also other magical materials that were imported. Many people in the castles who had owned businesses continued to practice their craft including Mr. Olivander, who continued to create wands for the new generations of witches and wizards. Remus Lupin was their man in Europe. He had volunteered for the job because he was afraid that with his werewolf status he would make some people uncomfortable in the castles and he wanted to avoid that. The floo passage was the last means of unmonitored travel out of the United Kingdom.

Harry pushed his blankets aside, but quickly regretted it when the cool air hit his bare skin. Walking over to his armoire in just a pair of boxers, he rifled through a pile of clothing until he found a pair of muggle athletic pants and a hooded sweatshirt. The material wasn't thick, but it was enough to protect him from the frigid winter air while he went for his customary morning run. He pulled on a pair of socks and some worn running shoes before grabbing his wand and heading out of his bedroom. Glancing to the right he saw that the other doors of the three bedroom flat were still shut so he could only guess that he was the first up. He pulled out his wand and lit the oil lamp that was one of two that lit the hallway.

Warwick castle was the place where the majority of the resistance resided. A two story apartment building had been built quickly when the original members of the resistance had moved into the castle. While on the outside the building looked like it was no where near large enough to hold the amount of people it did, the inside had been magically expanded to hold hundreds of rooms. There were single bedroom, two bedroom, and three bedroom apartments. Each had a kitchen, living room, and one or two bathrooms. There was an old mill and river on the side of the castle that was capable of providing electricity, but unfortunately with the amount of magic being performed, it was useless. Thus the reason Harry was lighting an oil lamp.

He made his way into the comfortably furnished living room and was surprised to see the reason for his family needing three bedrooms sitting on the couch. Harry's seven year old sister, Vera Potter, was lounging on the couch with a book that a normal seven year old probably wasn't capable of reading. She was wearing a light blue dressing gown and her reddish brown hair was tussled from sleeping. She looked up with her father's hazel eyes when she noticed her brother was standing at the entrance to the hallway.

"Morning Harry," she stated brightly, putting her book to the side.

"Good morning V," Harry responded using his nickname for her. "You're up awfully early aren't you?"

She shrugged cutely. "I couldn't go back to sleep. I'm just waiting for mum to wake up and make breakfast."

"You might be waiting for a while then V. Dad was out late last night for a meeting and I'm sure mum waited up for him. They'll probably sleep in so why don't I make something for you instead?"

"Promise it'll taste good?" Vera asked playfully.

"I promise," Harry laughed. He walked over and let her climb on his back. She secured her petite arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his midsection. He pretended to struggle with her added weight making her laugh before making it to the kitchen and sitting her at the kitchen table. After getting out the necessities, he flicked his wand a few times and a plate of eggs and toast along with a pitcher of juice made it to the table. Harry sat at the table and watched his sister take a tentative bite of eggs. She chewed for a second and sat with a contemplative look on her face. Then, she turned and looked at her brother, giving him a quick nod of approval. Harry chuckled at her antics and poured each of them a glass of juice. He quickly gulped his down then stood up from his seat ready to go.

"Tell Mum and Dad when they get up that I went running ok V?"

"Can I go with you Harry?"

Harry shook his head while ignoring her pouting look that he usually gave in to. "Not yet V, you're sill too young. Maybe in a couple of years, but it's just too dangerous because sometimes I leave the wards."

"Fine," she said turning moodily back to her food.

Harry walked over and put a finger under her chin, turning her face to look at him. "Hey, I don't want you to be mad at me. Tell you what, sometime this week I'll take you over to Stokesay and we can work on your broom flying. How does that sound?"

"Promise?" she asked looking excited.

"I promise," Harry answered bending down and kissing the top of her head. "I'll be back later. Harry turned and Apparated out of the flat to avoid the magically expanded hallways that made finding the exit a pain. He reappeared directly outside the entrance and was met with a gusting winter breeze. To alleviate some of the cold, he cast a mild warming charm on himself before placing his wand back into his pocket.

Everyone seemed to be taking advantage of the weekend to get some extra rest because the only other people he could see were the guards who were posted on the numerous castle towers. The weekends were usually very relaxed around the castle. Children were given a break from their schooling and there was no combat training for the resistance soldiers. As far as Harry was concerned though, the weekends were no reason to slack off. He had been training to fight for as long as he could remember, but his father hadn't allowed him on any missions so far. His father would tell him he wasn't ready yet, but that wasn't really the case. He didn't like to sound arrogant, but Harry knew that he was extremely talented and extremely powerful. Even Alastor Moody, his personal instructor, was barely a match for him anymore. But his father continued to hold him back, even with Moody's insistence that he needed real fighting experience. Harry loved his father, but the man could be highly frustrating sometimes.

Harry started walking until he reached the gatehouse. This was the only way to leave the castle unless you wanted to jump over the walls. It was possible to Apparate within the confines of the castle, but not to outside of it. He waved to guard responsible for raising the magically reinforce gate. He recognized the man's face, but he couldn't come up with a name to match. Everyone around each of the castles knew who Harry was being the son of one of the Resistance's leaders, but Harry couldn't say the same for himself about others. He thought it was pretty pathetic that he had spent the vast of majority of his life here, but didn't know that many people very well. He hadn't really spent much of his life socializing though. While they had a school system, Harry's parents had decided to educate him and his sister themselves. It wasn't that they thought they could do better then the teachers, which included former Hogwarts professors Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick, but they wanted to be able to pick and choose what their children learned. The school focused on the same things that had been taught at Hogwarts, but Harry's parents had chosen to leave out subjects like astronomy, divination, and history. Instead, they focused more on the subjects of transfiguration, charms, and defense. Harry remembered being younger and hearing other kids and their parents questioning why he was so special that he didn't attend school with the rest of the children. He always felt like firing back at them that he was training to defeat Albus Dumbledore which would have promptly shut them up, but he was forbidden from saying anything about the prophecy.

His parents had told him about the prophecy early on, as soon as he was able to comprehend what it meant. Of course, being a child and learning that you had to battle a Dark Lord was a lot to take in. His parents told him that they were going to train him along with Moody, but that he shouldn't feel like everything was resting on his shoulders. Harry couldn't help but laugh at that. He woke up pretty much every single morning feeling like entire world was counting on him and it didn't help that every time he looked at his reflection, he could see that bloody scar on his forehead. His parents told him that if anybody else found out about the prophecy that he would be pressured to go and face Dumbledore before he was ready or someone could try to kill him and then crawl back to Dumbledore looking for a reward—not that he really believed anyone around the castle was actually a match for him.

While the United Magical Resistance had its own small army which were well trained in both magic and weaponry, Harry spent every bit of his spare time trying to improve himself. And, once again, this wasn't exactly the greatest thing for his social life. It was sad that his best friends were his little sister and his godfather Sirius and that he had never really had a girlfriend. Sure he had kissed a few girls before, but if you didn't move fast enough, then choice became extremely limited. There wasn't much to do for recreation around the castle, so witches and wizards getting together quickly wasn't surprising. It had also worked to increase the castle's population Harry thought, referring to all of the pregnant women around the castle.

He exited the castle through the gatehouse and heard the gate close behind him. Looking to his left he could he could see the burnt remains of the town that had stood beyond the castle. Dumbledore had ordered that once a muggle town looked deserted, it was to be burned to the ground to remove any stragglers. Harry could remember vividly the day that this particular town had been burned. It had been five years earlier and the one and only time that they had been fearful of being discovered by Dumbledore. That charred smell still lingered in the air and he remembered watching as the soldiers laughed as they set fire to the empty shells that had been families' homes. He didn't need any prophecy to encourage him to want to kill Dumbledore—just that memory—that was enough to fuel him.

Harry ran around to the side of the castle where the woods and river were located. There was a thin layer of ice covering the water which again reminded him of how cold it was. He began running along side the river, his breathing becoming extremely labored the longer he went. This was Harry's favorite time of the year to train because the body was forced to push its limits and work so much harder in the cold. He ran for another half hour until he was getting rather far away from the castle. He stopped, intending to start heading back when he saw something in the air flying towards him. Harry began to pull his wand, but when he noticed it was his father's owl he put it away. The grey barn owl swooped down gracefully, landing on Harry's shoulder. He saw the tiny piece of parchment attached to his leg and removed it quickly. Pulling it open he read:

Son,

Moody just contacted me with some intelligence and it's extremely important information. I know that you enjoy your morning running, but get back to the castle as quick as possible. You may just get the chance to prove yourself that you were waiting for.

Dad

Harry encouraged the owl to take off and he watched as it headed back towards the tree line. He looked back again at the short note that was in his hands. This was it. He was finally going to do something that was useful. Pulling his wand out, he incinerated the parchment and began running as fast as his legs would take him, excitement written all over his features.