A/N: Hello, hello! Things are really gonna start ramping up with the, uh, hint I add at the end... well, it's not much of a hit and is much more like hitting someone with a bus- but yeah. Chapters to come will be hard to write... but I promise it will not stay bad!

Anywho- my next chapter will be on the 16th of October!

Enjoy!

SHENLONG IS DEAD

On the door to the train compartment Harri had set up minor wards to keep the other students away. Of course, Hermione found her anyways. She entered the space and sat beside Harri, just close enough to feel one another's presence. There they sat in silence together.

Harri stared out the window, at the sun that had yet to set. Hermione had gotten out a book and sat back to read. But occasionally the bushy haired brunette would glance at Harri over the cover, waiting.

"It's been five days..." Harri eventually stated, voice raw and still staring out the window. Five days since Sirius died by the hands of Voldemort's most devoted follower, Bellatrix Lestrange. Five days since Goku had spoken to her. At this point Harri felt so numb from all the emotions that ran their course through her, she wasn't sure which one bothered her more anymore.

At first she had been angry. Angry at Voldemort. Enraged with Dumbledore. Irate with Lestrange. Cross with herself.

The first thing she had done was chase after Bellatrix. She'd wanted the deranged woman to know what she felt. So she'd used an Unforgivable. It had made Harri feel disgusting. It had forced her own current emotions onto someone else and, in return, made Harri feel any of what they felt in that moment.

Being hurt and angry over Sirius as she was the decision to use the spell hadn't even been a thought. It had hit Bellatrix straight on and the woman had fallen. Harri had felt her fear. How Bellatrix had expected pain worse than what Harri felt with her own sorrow. Then, when the pain Harri tried to inflict wasn't nearly as much as Bellatrix had expected, a sick sort of glee came over the woman that had Harri hastily cut the connection.

For a moment Harri had listened in horrified confusion as the woman laughed on the polished floor of the Ministry entrance hall. Then she'd turned to Harri with a sort of manic gleam in her eyes that told Harri just how insignificant she'd thought Harri was in that moment.

"You have to mean it." Bellatrix had laughed, like she knew exactly what Harri felt right then- and considering the spell that had just been used Bellatrix probably did.

Harri's confusion didn't last long however, quickly masked by anger again. She blasted the floor in front of the deranged witch and ignored the twinge of guilt when she heard the other witch shout in pain from the shrapnel of marble.

Never again would Harri try and use the Unforgivable on another being. Not if it meant that she had to put herself on their level. Harri did not want to inflict pain, or suffering, or anything else in relation to that. But that did not mean she would let others get away with trying to inflict that pain on herself or those whom she cared for. That didn't stop her from using other harmful spells either. While Harri hadn't been aiming to kill anyone else, in that moment Harri hadn't cared if Bellatrix got too injured to recover properly. If that lead to the woman dying... well, an eye for an eye.

Of course that was when Voldemort had shown himself.

The mad man took all focus from Bellatrix. Harri didn't know if she escaped. Instead she focused on dueling her parent's murderer. The murderer of a lot of people.

Despite being already drained from multiple duels that night, and from her emotions even before that (despite Harri's best efforts, news of Kuririn's death still troubled her greatly. Though it helped to know that he would come back), Harri had still held up against Voldemort well. In fact, she'd nearly killed the tosser in the lobby of the Ministry of Magic. If Dumbledore hadn't shown up when he did then Harri was certain that she would have succeeded. But Dublebore had and when he did, Harri heard him shout something.

The moment she looked over a sudden pain filled her head, just like at the end of her last test at school, and Harri was down. Voldemort had been given the perfect opportunity to possess her body and he took it.

Even now Harri could remember the pain she felt as she had her memories rummaged through. How she had to scramble through the pain to lock away her most important memories from the murderer. (The fact that she was sure she hadn't succeeded on time terrified her. He knew about Goku. It was the shock of learning about him, the Dragonballs, the wish, that had allowed her foothold to fight back.)

Her very body had burned as her magic fought against his- his vile magic trying to meld them together while hers tore them apart. Her thoughts steadily slipping away as the entire situation was pushed to feel like a bad dream...

The memory of it made her sick. (And she was sick too, expelled everything in her stomach at some point during the possession.) And she felt dirty. Like a used rag that had been spent. No matter how much scrubbing she had done in the shower afterwards that... feeling was still there. It wasn't something she could quite describe.

Yet, like a dementor, it brought up even more bad memories. Reminded her of what had happened to her when Malfoy had cornered her after Cedric had laced her drink. Reminded her of an incident before Hogwarts. She never wanted to relive any of those moments, ever again.

And then Dumbledore asked her to his office, the day that they were all set to go home. He had the audacity to apologize for his role in Sirius' death, a thing that had taken Harri completely off guard, and use his death to state that Harri's feelings for others would be a secret weapon against Voldemort. That love was her weapon.

Not to mention, he said nothing about the pain that he'd caused her in the Ministry, of allowing Voldemort the opportunity to get into her head. Of allowing Voldemort to know of Goku.

(It made Harri think that maybe the old man had done it on purpose. A revenge for Sirius kicking the Order out perhaps? If that was so, then Dumbledore must have done the same thing at the end of her year-end test. Harri couldn't think of any other reason as to why her occlumency had failed her at that time.)

She had barely listened to what the geezer said after that, too shocked, and wrathful to do much of anything. Only the knowledge that she had better things to do, and that she wanted to be the better person, kept her from outright murdering Dumbledore in his own office. (Secretly Harri sort of wished she had Rajah with her instead of leaving the little basilisk with Hermione. Maybe they could have added another cup to the tea set in the Defense Against The Dark Arts classroom office.) Somehow, after her magic had lashed out on it's own- in a rather violent way that had Dumbledore stare, face whiter than the Hogwarts ghosts- the quiet that had followed allowed Harri enough time to compose herself enough to actually hear Dumbledore tell her the damned prophecy that had been made about her battle with Voldemort. The entire reason why she had confronted Voldemort to begin with.

An hour later and she was still trying to completely digest their conversation.

What really echoed in Harri's head was the threat on her life. While she had known about it- felt it with each encounter with Voldemort or one of his cronies- she hadn't known why she was a target or even why Voldemort tried so hard to get to her. Well, apparently, between the two of them, one could not live while the other still drew breath. Apparently, she was destined to die by Voldemort's hand or kill Voldemort herself.

It made Harri wonder if this connection she and Voldemort shared would still work if she were to go to Goku's world. If she might have to come back and kill Voldemort or if the madman would find a way to come after her there. But then... it might just be a matter of time before he found a way there, she had felt his greed, his absolute need to get to the dragon.

Either way it made Goku's silence all the more morbid. With each day that passed she grew more certain that he hadn't survived his encounter with Kuririn's own killer. (Goku always answered the call of the Window. He'd never not done so before. Not of his own free will anyhow.)

The very thought had Harri feel sick, like a plant that had been uprooted from it's perpetually sunny hill to be put in a dull place with little to no light. If she were forced to live in a world without Goku then she'd have a better time locked away in the Dursley's cupboard under the stairs again.

If he was gone... Voldemort could have Britain for all she cared. (Or maybe she'd just invite him to do her in, end it at last. It was a macabre thought that plagued her, only becoming more tempting the longer that silence greeted her on Goku's end of the Window.)

At the same time, Harri told herself that maybe he didn't answer because he couldn't. Maybe his Window Wood had gotten destroyed in his fight. While highly unlikely due to all the enchantments Harri had put on it, and with how careful Harri knew he was with it, they didn't really know what could happen if the coin purse had been hit full on with a Ki blast. For all she knew it was some sort of magic and Ki collision recoil that had injured Goku and he was now suffering under it's effects because of her enchantments to the coin purse. (These thoughts were harder to keep a grasp of. Her mind kept skipping over anything that had to do with happiness and going straight to worse-case scenarios.)

Immediately that utter terror she felt at the fact that knowledge of Goku and his world was now known to her nemesis- because of her- hit Harri in the ribs. Carefully she drew in her breaths, determined not to cry. That hot ball of emotions swelled in her throat, making it impossible to make any sound except for those of pain. Just what was she going to do? What was Voldemort going to do?

For years she had been hiding the Window Wood out of the selfish need to keep at least one friend whom she had made all on her own close to her. Just the idea of someone taking away her connection to Goku had made her more paranoid than Alastair Moody- or at least, the version of him that had been a very good impersonation by the Death Eater Bartemius Junior. But as she attended Hogwarts her need had slowly changed.

When she told Hermione about Goku, and the Dragonballs, it really sunk in just how dangerous her knowledge of it was. Because, as Hermione had pointed out later- quietly, under charms- a single wish in the wrong hands could be very dangerous. World-altering.

Soon after, it wasn't just the knowledge of the dragon that she was protecting, not even just Goku, but the livelihood of everyone in Goku's world and her own.

Just what type of horror could someone like Voldemort reap, where no one but a select few knew of Ki, let alone of magic? What type of world would it be if everyone who had no magic were to suddenly disappear? Would she have even discovered the way to talk to Goku? What type of life would she have lived until now without Goku in it?

The thought made a shudder of dread go down her spine. Frankly, Harri didn't want to know. This was such a monumental cock-up it had Harri nearly dread speaking to Goku about it. (She just wanted to speak to him though. That trumped any other feelings she had on the matter at the moment.)

As though she knew of Harri's thoughts, or perhaps has become an expert on reading her mood, Hermione managed to interrupt Harri's inner monologue before it could spiral too far. Through the reflection in the window Harri could see how her friend had put down her book to give Harri her full attention.

A frown pulled at Hermione's mouth, "that doesn't mean that something happened to him for sure. Goku's strong. Stronger than anyone else here. He wouldn't let himself fail, especially since you guys still need to make your wish. It's likely that he left the Window somewhere safe while he fought."

Harri didn't bother with a response. Her eyes slid away from Hermione's in the reflection and to the sun in the distance. Just a few more hours until sunset. She'd try the Window again then.

"Harri..." Hermione hesitated a moment. Then she took a breath. Eyes closed, "do you still have your coin for the group?"

At the odd question, Harri's brow furrowed. Tiredly, she turned to face Hermione. Slowly took in how the question seemed to stress her friend out. "It's in my trunk somewhere... why?"

"Can I see it?" Her eyes seemed to plead with Harri for cooperation.

Baffled, Harri simply turned to her trunk. Once it was open she took out her wand and summoned the coin to her hand. That done, she handed it over.

"Thanks," Hermione took out her own wand and began to fiddle with the coin, muttering to herself for a while. Harri watched with a sort of detached bemusement.

When the coin was eventually handed back over, Harri didn't hurry to put it away. She simply stared at her friend, waiting for the reasoning.

"I got a message from Dumbledore." Hermione's head ducked as though she were ashamed to even mention it. Her hands became fists on her lap.

At the mere mention of the old headmaster Harri grew rigid. Something in Harri's eyes glossed over.

"...he gave me a... reminder that I wasn't to contact you, at all, during this summer- again."

Aghast, Harri found herself incapable of doing anything more than stare. That rage she felt for Dumbledore bubbled up again like water in a tea kettle. It was far over the boiling point where the old man was concerned.

Her magic lashed out like a whip. The surfaces of the compartment dented outwards or tore, though Hermione herself was left untouched. A second after it happened Harri flinched back subconsciously.

"Sorry." The raven haired teen muttered, closing her green eyes and attempting to calm. Worked to rein her angry volatile magic in as though it were some sort of beast that needed to be tamed. Her breaths were shuddered and hot, her body shook.

Yet Hermione only shook her head, gently grasping one of Harri's hands to regain her attention. "I wanted to fix your coin so it could have contact with mine only. The messages wont be long... but I can still contact you." The moment Hermione had made contact with her Harri's eyes reopened, snapped up to meet her friend's gaze. There were unshed tears in Hermione's brown orbs as the brunette spoke. "I don't want you to think that you're alone, Harri. 'Cause you're not. I might not be able to give you a hug or sit beside you when you're grieving, but I do care."

Touched, Harri, once again, did her best not to cry. Roughly, "Hermione..."

"My parents told me about a cottage that they were thinking of buying. I'll do my best to persuade them to get it and then we can devise a way to get you to it with me."

"Hermione..." While Harri's voice wobbled feebly, there was a warmth to it now.

"That way, you won't have to spend the entire summer with those... those abusers." While the word came out to sound more like a cuss, Hermione quickly schooled her expression to look rather hopeful. "I just wish there was more I could do without getting caught by Dumbledore and the rest of the Order."

Harri gave a soft noise of annoyance at the mention of them. Apparently the Order of the Phoenix were the main group of magicals who had stood up to Voldemort during his last rein. Harri's and Neville's parents had both been in the group, along with Sirius and Remus Lupin. But they were lead by Dumbledore.

When Dobby became Harri's elf, he happily passed on letters between her and Sirius discreetly. That was how Harri found out that the Order had set up their headquarters in Sirius' ancestral home. To convince him, Harri had sent Sirius copies of the Goblin's paperwork, which showed the financial side of what Dumbledore had done wrong. With that in hand her godfather ended up kicking the entire Order out of his house. (While it hadn't been her goal, the removal of the Order, unfortunately, did not stop them from patrolling outside of the Dursley's home.)

In the end Sirius told Dobby to pass Harri's message to Remus- refusing to go to the safety of the Chamber- before he went to the Ministry himself. Dobby found Remus, who then informed the rest of the Order of what was happening. They'd all dropped what they were doing to go to the Ministry.

However the Order had been next to no help in the fights. Unlike the Death Eaters, the Order fought with the intent to disable, which meant that a Death Eater comrade simply needed to wave their wand to reverse what had been done. It meant that the reinforcement the Order was supposed to give was next to nothing- each hit the Order took dwindled their numbers permanently while the Death Eaters only went down temporarily.

"It's okay." Harri wiped at her eyes with a sleeve before the tears could start. "I won't even arrive at my Aunt and Uncle's house this summer."

Eyes wide, "you won't?" Hermione breathed. Hopeful and awed. "Why not?"

Harri felt the question rather funny and snorted at it. It was more of a 'finally' actually.

Between first and second year Harri had been recovering from magical exhaustion. She could barely do anything let alone leave that place.

Between second and third year she had to recover from getting her arm nearly completely severed off via basilisk fang- a wound that had been cried into by the kind Fawkes which allowed her to not bleed out (along with rendering the basilisk venom inutile) until she reached the infirmary where she had been fixed up properly. By the time she had recovered from that she found that her Aunt and Uncle's house had been under watch by magicals- later which she'd find out were all part of the Order. Harri had tried to leave anyways, but Dumbledore had shown up and escorted her back to the Dursleys. It only happened twice more. After that, each time she left the property, she'd find herself back on the front step.

Between third and fourth year Harri had been escorted to her Aunt and Uncle's house by the Ministry officials. Everyone thought that Sirius Black was still after her, after all. They had kept watch over her for the rest of the summer.

Between fourth year and this year she was not only escorted but she had also been recovering from the incident in the Graveyard, where she had been forced to partake in helping to revive Voldemort. This time Dumbledore didn't wait for Harri to try and leave the house first, he simply cast the charm that had Harri return to the front step as soon as she had arrived on the property. At least this time Harri knew that the spell was a special version of reverte, except that knowledge did nothing to help her. When it wasn't being used to revive those under another spell, reverte was used by most witches to keep wayward toddlers from going too far from them. What had been placed on the house was a sort of modified version of the spell, which only activated when Harri tried to leave the property.

This year Harri was determined to disappear before anyone else would try to escort her to 'safety' and then keep her prisoner at her Aunt and Uncle's house.

"I've got a few properties that I can go to. From the Potter estates and the Black ones. I own all of that now. Voldemort won't see another sickle from the Black or Potter Houses, and with the bank's help he'll have to repay every knut that had been spent without the benefit of the Black or Potter Houses in mind."

"You can do that?"

Harri nodded, "yes. With all that is going on, I'm not going to stay at the Dursleys. Dumbledore told me that there's some blood ward around their house that supposedly keeps me safe from Voldemort as long as I am able to think of that place as my home."

Somehow Hermione's already wide eyes managed to get wider. Her hands had shot up to cover her mouth as a horror gleamed in her eyes.

"But you... you've never thought of that place as your home." The brunette stated quietly between them, "your home has always been with Goku."

Suddenly the hem of her jumper was very interesting to Harri. She played with it between her fingers and didn't dare acknowledge how warm her face now felt. "Yes."

"Oh, Harri..." Tears really were falling down Hermione's face then. Her eyes had flashed to her friend's collar where she knew Harri kept her coin purse even though she could no longer see it. (It was a new precaution Harri had added with the knowledge she knew Voldemort now had.) Hermione enveloped her friend into a hug. "I'm so sorry."

Somewhat used to the way her friend randomly attacked her with hugs by now, Harri managed to repress her instinctive flinch by going still. Stiffly Harri patted the brunette witch on the back, "it's not your fault, Hermione."

"I know! I'm just so sad and angry for you! Oh-! I wish I could help you more, but I bet Dumbledore will have my house watched the moment he realizes you're not returning."

"Sorry, Hermione." Harri loosely put her arms around her friend but her tone stayed morose. "I hadn't thought of that-"

"Don't you apologize!" Hermione pulled back to look Harri in her green eyes determinedly. "It's not like I'm in trouble, nor am I suddenly trapped at the house. I'll just have to be careful with what I say about you and when I can contact you with my coin. You having your freedom is worth me being careful. I don't mind."

For a moment Harri stared at the brunette with wide eyes, shocked. Then she let out a soft sigh, "alright." The word had Hermione smile, which made Harri feel a little better.

An idea came to her then, "what if you visited me? You and your parents?" Harri suggested, "I can write down the address and you can take the non-magical way. If anyone finds you, you can take a long winding way and I can repay what money you loose on that chase- trust me, I have enough to last me and several other generations of Potters and Blacks without any of us needing to work, I can foot the bill. So, unless the one chasing you is a muggle born too, they'll get lost fairly quickly."

As she spoke Harri had turned to her trunk and had gotten a spare piece of parchment to write on. Soon it was presented to Hermione with flourish and the teen looked between it and Harri carefully before accepting it with a smile.

"Alright, Harri. We'll spend this summer together then." When said aloud the words had Hermione nearly squeal with excitement. This would be the first time that she'd been invited to a friends house. At the same time, this would be the first time Harri would have friend over.

Dark eyes stared at the knuckles of his fist as he carefully moved his hand to open and close repeatedly. One hand, then the next, were checked over thoroughly. Then his attention went to his chest. Where his ribs had previously been exposed and cracked not even twenty four hours ago. Now perfectly smooth skin covered the area, with only a scar that was left as a reminder of what it had been. He pushed himself up to his feet. There was no protest from his legs. The holes that had been blown clean through his flesh and bone were gone too. Crushed feet and broken hip fixed perfectly.

"Wow." While amazed, the excitement and novelty he felt for it all were still dulled. This would have taken several of Hermione's potions to fix. Immediately his mind jumped to Ri, a spark of worry igniting in him. What would she make of his radio silence? (Come to think of it, hadn't she been in the air the last he spoke to her? That hadn't happened before. What had Ri been up to?)

Goku lifted his head and his dark eyes landed on the white anthropomorphic cat who lived at the top of this tower they were both in. "Thank you, Karin. Those herbs really worked like you said they would."

"Yes, it's quite impressive isn't it?" Karin agreed, his tail curling behind him pleasantly. "However, I am still in complete awe at your strength. That you could actually defeat that demon Piccolo..."

There was a tentative smile that graced Goku's face for a moment at that. It didn't last long. At the reminder, all he could think of was how very close he'd come to loosing that fight.

If only he'd been stronger during his first encounter with Piccolo, when the demon had come for Yajirobe's Dragonball. The green creature had beaten Goku to a pulp then left him there when it was certain that Goku wouldn't get up. (How wrong it was to do so. No one kept him down without outright killing him first.)

Luckily for Goku, Yajirobe had stuck around to watch the fight from afar. (Goku had been sure the guy had fled far away, but had been pleasantly proven wrong.) So Goku had the large teen bring him to Karin to heal, after he had the guy feed him one of Hermione's potions to keep him together for the journey.

After consuming a senzu bean, and being magically completely cured of both injury and hunger, Goku had spent four days at Karin's tower in a pain induced coma where his hidden power had been painstakingly drawn out of him. Karin had estimated that the power he now could access would allow him to be on par with the power that Piccolo had, so he went out to fight.

It had been long and harrowing.

After scotching the creature that had killed Kuririn, Goku met Demon King Piccolo- the creature's 'father'- who wasn't very happy with him. (Not that Goku cared about that then, or now.) Then Piccolo had laughed, like Goku had been tickling him, at the knowledge that Goku killed Piccolo's creature because it had killed Goku's friend. Still high on his grief and anger as Goku was at the time, this hadn't been a very sane move on Demon Piccolo's part. (Ever since he'd left the tower that dark thing inside had taken precedence in his mind. For once Goku didn't care to hold it back. It just wanted to tear into and ruin everything around it.)

So they fought.

At first Goku was stronger than Piccolo. He had beat the green slug easily. Had Piccolo down and was drawing his death out slowly for all the pain the claimed demon had caused. But that had been Goku's mistake. In his own pain-filled revenge he hadn't taken into account what Piccolo could have wished for from the dragon before slaughtering the powerful creature.

Piccolo had bid his time. Had put on a show so Goku didn't even notice the way Piccolo's Ki grew stronger despite each injury received. By the time Goku did it was too late.

Stronger than Goku, Piccolo then commenced to take him down just as slowly and painfully as Goku had him. That's about when Goku's friends had shown up, ready to fight by Goku's side. Because it was his fault that he hadn't just taken Piccolo down and instead gave in to the desire of wanting to cause suffering to Piccolo, Goku had made it his task to keep his friends from dying by taking as many blows for them as possible while they worked together to take Piccolo down. It was hard. Piccolo had wished to steadily grow stronger over time.

The longer the battle dragged the more powerful Piccolo got while Goku and his friends steadily got more fatigued. Goku still wasn't quite sure how he managed to win. All he knew was that the moment that Piccolo had smacked him in the face with the knowledge that the Eternal Dragon had been slain it had torn through him with more pain than any of the psychical wounds already inflicted upon him. Luck, he supposed, was the only reason he'd won, in that he'd somehow managed to turn his utter devastation into a rage that allowed him to kill his opponent. He hardly remembered it though.

Once again Goku was brought back to Karin- battered and broken but not beaten- to heal. The cat slathered him in a senzu plant paste and over night his body absorbed them. He was now fully healed. Good as new. Any power he had before the fight with Piccolo felt tiny in comparison to what he felt now. Yet it wasn't enough to lift his spirits.

Not only would he not be able to wish Kuririn and anyone else Piccolo had senselessly killed back to life, but he would never be able to make the wish for Ri to come through the Window Wood to his world.

The reality of that made him shake with a storm of rage, anguish, and grief. It made him feel like he'd wasted years on the Dragonballs, waiting to make his wish, when he should have been looking for other ways to get her to him. The thought made him want to go after Piccolo all over again... but no one could be killed more than once.

"Hey! I thought you sent Goku out there because you thought he had a chance to win!" Yajirobe had a scowl on his chubby face as he said this.

Goku wasn't too sure what to think of the wild teen, except that he was cowardly despite the obvious strength that he possessed. It was odd to hear him be defensive of someone. As far as Goku knew, Yajirobe cared more about food than himself.

"Well..." Karin scratched at the white fur under his chin nervously. He let out a sigh. "To be honest, I thought that he had almost no chance at winning. I thought, if we were lucky, they'd just take one another out."

"Seriously?!" Yajirobe sat heavily onto the floor of the tower. "That's not cool, man!"

"What else could I have done? Goku was the only chance any of us had to take the demon out. If he didn't survive this encounter then I'd just go and get the Dragonballs together and-"

"But that Piccolo killed Shenlong." Yajirobe pointed out. Said out loud once again, Goku flinched. "So how would that have worked?"

"He..." Karin actually blinked his perpetually squinted eyes at that news. The cat's voice went unnaturally high with shock. "He what...?"

Goku growled. His fists clenched. "Even if he hadn't killed Shenlong, Piccolo still made a wish." Goku spoke through gritted teeth. "We wouldn't have been able to bring anyone back to life anyways, because after a year, Shenlong can't bring anyone back."

No sound left Karin at that. It was Yajirobe who spoke next, solemn.

"It can't be helped... it's the way life is. People get sick, injured, and they die. It hurts but... that's everyone's fate in the end."

"Yes. What you say is true." Karin eventually replied, though he still stared at Goku. The tailed boy hadn't moved, except for the odd tremor that shook his entire being. With the way his head was bowed his fringe hid his eyes. "But, what is most troubling, is how the souls of those who are killed by demon folk are not allowed to ascend."

Both Yajirobe and Goku jerked at that information. "What?"

"Those souls are unable to pass on to the next realm. They're cursed to float in limbo for the rest of eternity."

"How is that...?!" Another animalistic growl left him at that, "why aren't they allowed to ascend? It's hardly the person's fault who's hands they died by. They were all killed in cold blood!"

"...I'm afraid I don't have an answer for you, Goku." Karin's tone was full of woe. "I don't make those rules. Shenlong, however, would have been able to pull those souls out of limbo no matter how long they've stayed there. I'm sure of it. It's just-"

Stopped mid sentence, Karin's jaw dropped. He sucked in a sharp breath as though he'd just been punched in the sternum.

"Of course!" The sudden exclamation had Goku and Yajirobe flinch back with shock. "I don't know how I could have possibly forgotten! There's still a way we can help those people."

"There is?" Goku's impossibly dark brown eyes widened, "how?"

Karin turned to Goku with an air of utmost importance. "You will need to visit the one person who made the Dragonballs in the first place. I'm sure if you ask nicely, he'll be inclined to help."

Goku blinked. "Who?"

"You'll be visiting God."

For over a decade now he had built up his plan to rise to power, for a second time. After regaining his body in the Graveyard he had planned to stay low, gauge how far his influence had spread, see where he needed to expand it next. It helped just how much the Ministry was willing to cover up for him in their unwillingness to recognize that he was once again walking among them.

He lured the last Potter to the Ministry naught a few days ago. He'd use her to find out the rest of the prophecy that stood in his way to ultimate power. Then he'd planned to kill her in front of the entire Ministry, string her up so the entire Wizarding World knew just how helpless they were.

Relying on a child to save them- preposterous.

Yet it made it all the easier to kill the last Potter because she is, in fact, a child. No match for such a wizard as he.

He'd gotten so close. That old fool Dumbledore had said some sort of spell that missed him entirely and had hit the girl instead. Without wasting the opportunity, he had taken that chance to destroy her mind. She had tried to fight back, admirable for someone who supposedly would match him in power, but she was still weak. He'd started with her earliest memories.

Times she couldn't truly remember but still had an impact upon her person and were stored away as such. He'd gone through them mercilessly, ripping them apart and enjoying the pain he'd cause with it.

As he went along, he'd stumbled across something entirely intriguing. The last Potter actually managed to create an opening to a world entirely not their own. And all when she was practically a baby, with no knowledge of what magic even was.

Shocked as he was, he discarded destroying her memories in favor of going through them. Everything in relation to this Window came up; where it started, the experiments with different woods, taking a piece to school, her trying to protect it like he protected his horcruxes, and even the knowledge of seven orange stones with red stars inside which could be collected to grant wishes. It was about then, as he was shown how years at Hogwarts were spent pining after another world, that he lost interest and was suddenly violently expelled from the girl's body.

By then the entire Ministry had arrived and he had been spotted personally.

While his first plan had been scrapped immediately upon being spotted, he now had new information which he could act on.

His first order of business was to find the house the last Potter had resided in for all these years. It wasn't information his spies in the Ministry could find without alerting others of their presence. And it hadn't been something he had looked for while in the mind of the last Potter. Instead his spies came back with information on the mudblood that hung around the Potter Heir.

They had visited her abode and he had gone personally to have a conversation with the parents. He'd left most of his followers there to do what they will on the residency, or even the town.

Which left him where he was now.

It was just past midnight on Private Drive. Each house on either side of the deserted road looked painfully alike, only the numbers on the houses changed.

At his feet his pet Nagini slithered along side him, her cool scales occasionally brushed against his ankle.

"Hungry..."

"Not yet, my sweet." From under the light of a street lamp, his scarlet eyes caught sight of the number four plastered proudly on the house to the side of the door. "Nearly there."

"Hungry..." was his only reply.

He turned down the drive. Something briefly prickled against his skin, like the static. He laughed. The sound was cold and filled with anger. Was that all there was here to protect the last Potter? The old fool really was slacking in his high chair at the school if this is all that there was.

"Allow me, my Lord." Came the sweet voice of Bella as her garbed form stepped up to be just behind and to the left of him.

There was a limp in her walk now, a ragged drag to her breath. She had not come away from her fight with the last Potter unscathed after she took the life of her cousin. Yet at his permission Bella gave a happy thrill as she eagerly went forth into the house, blasting open the door and following the homenum revelio spell up the stairs immediately to the right.

She and Lucius were the only two who had followed him from the other place of muggle residence. He'd left Pettigrew behind to wait.

This time his laugh was of satisfaction as he heard distinct screams start from up the stairs.

"Hungry...!" Hissed Nagini agitatedly, her tongue flickering madly as her body angled to follow.

"Only those who do not move, my sweet." He reminded her absently, already casting about spells to locate the source of the failed wards.

"What would you have me do, my Lord?" Came Lucius' low tone, already irritating him.

"I want every piece of wood those stairs are made of gathered in there." He flicked his wand to the plain sitting room. All the furniture inside jumped to the walls and shrunk down to the size of peas. "Leave nothing behind."

"Yes, my Lord." With a bow Lucius left him be.

He made his way into the mundane kitchen, turned to the small sink and the perfectly clean counters. Another flick of his wand and all that shrunk too. A smirk appeared on his face as a small oval stone was revealed, as red as the setting sun.

He moved his wand to gesture at his hand, a long thin slice opening in his palm. Oh how kind it was for the last Potter to give him her blood when creating this new body of his.

Several drops he let fall on the stone, each one absorbed immediately. As it did so he muttered under his breath, waved his wand with his other hand. Outside he could feel how the wards pulsed and grew as they were renewed with power and changed to his specifications.

Now that was taken care of, this place wouldn't be disturbed by anyone he didn't want it to. He turned back towards the hall, the kitchen rightening itself behind him, while he wrapped his slit hand in a cloth that would be easily concealed in his sleeve.

There was now a large gap in the hall where the stairs had been. The walls aged around the areas where the stairs had connected to it. And a large pile of junk collected where there had once been a cupboard, a clump of old rags laid out where the most space would have been with everything else shoved aside.

He witnessed how Lucius moved the last of the wood by then, exposing childish drawings on the walls that had been hidden under the lowest of boards. A sudden flicker of annoyance shot through him as he regarded the cries from up the stairs, it only occurred to him then that he might be doing a bit of a favor to his supposed enemy by letting his followers have their way with the family here- and he did not do favors. Angry now, he flickered his wand hand in dismissal to Lucius as his follower bowed while he passed by.

The man turned and apparated up to the second floor.

Alone, he turned to the pile of wood that had been left for him. Unlike the last Potter, he would succeed in opening more than just a mere window. It would take a little time, but it will be well worth it in the end when he is able to get his hands on the stones in the other world.

He will be the one with the most power. Even death will not dare touch him. And then he will cleanse the land of all whom are unworthy of magic, until only those who are worthy are left.

A/N: And the really bad stuff starts! *starts to cry* I am so sorry!