Ron Weasley was long since asleep, mostly thanks to the sleeping draught he had slipped to Dumbledore's spies, and he took the opportunity to search their possessions.

Harry was deeply pissed off; he had spent the last couple of years trying to find the best way to end Lord Voldemort. When he was seven years old, Harry had learnt of the magical world after he had tried to escape, once more from the Dursleys. They had been growing increasingly abusive towards him since he had turned four, and just before he turned seven he was becoming increasingly convinced that one day the Dursleys would go too far, and whatever luck he had left since his stupid parents died would run out, and he would be buried in the garden.

Harry had learnt survival was a choice. You had to fight to survive. He had to run away from Privet Drive, there was no other way.

But then he discovered the truth; there were enchantments on him that tracked him down, and every single time he had run away from Number 4, someone, one of Dumbledore's lackeys had tracked him down and taken him back to the Dursleys.

So many things were revealed; Dumbledore's lackeys had spent years compelling all of the students and teachers at the primary school to see him as a freak, and Dumbledore had made sure no police officer, no social worker, came within a mile of the house.

Forced reluctantly to accept if he tried to escape again, the Dursleys would still have the chance to beat him, Harry had struggled to learn everything he could about the magical world. Fortunately, he had Mrs Figg, and using his powers he compelled her to take him to Diagon Alley. Sadly there was little the goblins could do. Dumbledore held too many cards, but they were able to give him some help including releasing some of his powers which the old bastard blocked off, but they weren't able to help arrange for him to travel to America, so then he could finally be with his American cousins, who had spent years and years trying to get custody over him.

When he was finally taken to Diagon Alley, Harry had returned to Gringotts to collect more resources, books and talismans which would serve him well.

The goblins alerted Harry to the existence of the Room of Requirement, and he had been using the resources and possibilities the Room opened up for him ever since; thanks to the Room of Requirement, Harry had learnt of the methods of immortality Tom Marvolo Riddle had been using, but the Room could not summon Horcruxes, so he had been forced to wait until he had the chance of getting hold of at least one so he could use the spell he'd found. It would drain the Horcrux of the magic, and it would also drain the soul of the creator, and because the Dark Lord had marked the followers he'd gathered, they too would lose their magic.

He didn't care; magic, in Harry's mind, was a gift, and if he was honest he was sickened by how brazenly the Death Eaters believed their master's lies about others not being allowed to have magic, simply because they weren't born in the magical world. It was crazy, but what sickened him the most was how Voldemort was such a hypocrite; Harry had fought the Dark Lord long enough, not by choice, but only so he could survive, if it wasn't for that then he would have left gladly long ago, and in many ways he wished he had, and he knew Voldemort didn't care about the purebloods and their pathetic beliefs.

He was only doing this to gain power for himself. There was no doubt in his mind if things had gone differently there would have never been Death Eaters, never mind everything else. Right now Lord Voldemort would have committed mass genocide across the whole world. He wanted to be the greatest sorcerer in the world. There was only one way he could do that, and that was by making sure he was the only sorcerer in the whole world.

Tom Marvolo Riddle was a psychopath. He didn't care about anyone else but his own power.

Harry had known about the Horcruxes for two years, but he had never been able to find one. He had been tempted when Dumbledore was killed by Snape to just go away, and flee to a different country. The only reason he hadn't, besides the Order keeping watch over him almost as if they expected such a move, was because he decided to use the war as the final distraction, so he would be able to emigrate.

There was nothing for him in this fucked up country, and it was time for Harry Potter to disappear for good.

But now he had to find out what Granger and Weasley were doing; he already had the Horcrux they'd stolen only today from the Ministry, from Umbridge (Weasley and Granger weren't to know that he had introduced the woman to the second half of a binary poison he had procured and given to her; he'd done it for revenge purposes after their fifth year, but he had decided to let her live, just so then they could see if she was useful, but it was a wasted effort, and now she had suffered from a slow, painful death, that was causing her insides to rot), but he wanted to know what these two were really up to.

It didn't take long for him to find a collection of bottles charmed to be unbreakable; Harry shook his head as he found bottles full of pinkish-red potions in Weasley's bag. Love potions.

He had to hand it to the Weasleys, their greed blinded them to the bigger picture.

He had known ever since he had met Ginny Weasley that the silly girl was interested in him, even if he could barely tolerate her; she had a nasty sense of humour, she yelled, and she was a redhead, something he didn't like sexually as it always reminded him of Lily Potter. But it wasn't until he had heard about his fame and how love potions existed, he was worried for his own wellbeing, and this fear was only made worse when he had overheard Granger and the two Weasley bitches giggling at the thought of date raping someone.

Finally, the Weasleys began to give him the potion last year, but it hadn't worked because he had been several steps ahead, but still, he had let the little bitch think she'd won.

Harry wondered if the Weasleys had discovered she had been doused with a slow-acting poison he'd bought just for her, but he didn't care. As far as he was concerned they deserved to pay the price.

As for the next potion…

Harry had found it in Granger's bag. Like the love potions, they were in unbreakable bottles. They were a dark turquoise in colour. Taking one and unstoppering it, Harry used his wand to identify it. He sighed, wondering if Granger and the Order could be anything but predictable. It was a mind-control potion, once administered it would be tuned to what instructions it was given.

Putting the stopper back on, Harry growled and glared at the tent where his 'friends' were sleeping, and he decided to get the job done. Grabbing his own bag, Harry slung it over his shoulders before he picked up a stick, and jabbed his wand at it, "Portus," he said, thinking of a side alley in Little Whinging, where he could easily get to the station and grab a train.

In the meantime, Harry smirked, "LORD VOLDEMORT!"

He activated the portkey, just before the Snatchers appeared…..