"Padfoot! Company!"

This was not the way Sirius Black had wanted to spend his retirement.

He had hoped that after so much strife had been dished his way, one day he would be able to put it behind him and live out the rest of his life in peace with his family. But instead, he was a soldier. And he was fighting against an enemy whose tactics were worse than death.

When Dumbledore fell, the war was as good as lost. The Death Eaters had resumed their modus operandi of terrorism, abduction and murder, and when Cornelius Fudge refused to surrender, Voldemort took the ministry by force. Diagon Alley was made an example of and Mad-Eye, Igor Karkaroff and Ameila Bones were some of the first casualties.

Voldemort and his followers had become nothing more than animals, was the realisation. The first time they rose to power there had been a reason behind it - psychotic as it may have been - there was a plan with an eventual end goal in mind. But the Death Eaters no longer had that. They didn't want to stop pollution of the bloodlines and bring the muggles to justice anymore, they wanted blood, as plain and simple as that. Their actions were as pure evil as the people committing them.

London was too hot to be in - indeed was any wizarding community. It was only by straying into the Muggle countryside that those who refused to bend the knee were able to survive the culling. From here they were able to gather numbers and even, in some small cases, halt Voldemort's advances when possible. It killed them to retreat with their tails between their legs as those they knew and loved were subjected every day to the whims of a mad man. But so long as they were alive, they could plan.

And that was what the Order of the Phoenix did best.

Coming to the rim of a freshly made crater, the man's eyes were set in a permanent squint as he surveyed the face of his niece, Nymphodora Tonks, stared back at him with a hopeful smile on her face.

"Aye?"

She nodded with a gesture into the distant landscape.

"They're here!"

The man let out a positive sigh of relief.

"Let's go and greet them."

Penny Haywood was a woman that Tonks knew from Hogwarts. So far she had proven herself to him as the perfect representative of Hufflepuff house; a loyal and hard-working girl, but with an eccentric side of her that made her acquaintanceship with Tonks a logical conclusion. She had been a valuable asset to them on their time on the run.

Ahead of him, the two girls met in an embrace.

"'Bout time. Get held up, did you?" he asked.

"No, we had a clear run," she said. "And you?"

The environment around them was not easily missable. Trees burnt to charcoal and impact craters penetrating the terrain. It looked like a scene from hell, or of a world that was dying.

Yet there wasn't a drop of rain, any sign of fog, nor even the threat of snow. Not a cloud in the sky and the temperature remained high in the thirties. It was insulting that the weather was this fine, because the area they found themselves in was a scene of mass devastation.

It was an omen of things to come.

"It was definitely them."

"Can you tell what happened…?"

"If they fought long enough to cause all this…" Tonks said, "I can only guess it was a sizable group. Can't tell who instigated the fighting, nor much beyond that. Given there's no bodies and this place isn't swarming with Death Eater reinforcements… I'm going to guess they weren't necessary."

"Which means we were too late," he answered.

Haywood took the lead and together, they traversed back the way they came, leaving the cold and worn battlefield for the safety of a tree-line.

"But it means Kingsley's info was right. Come on, we're over here. Where were you thinking next?"

"A few miles in that direction, there's a bit of a rocky outcrop," Tonks gestured vaugely behind them. "Good vantage point and probably shelter. If the Death Eaters have already been in the area then we could linger as long as we need."

The spot she pointed towards wasn't in sight, but she had a knack for seeing things that were far away. It was something he had once asked if she'd been taught, but apparently it was one of the many gifts of the Metamorphmagus.

In his attempt to see beyond his range of vision, he spotted something else in the corner of the radiant sky.

"Storm coming in tonight," he said. "Nasty one, according to the Muggles. We could definitely use somewhere like it to hunker down."

The trio ventured down a short, forestry incline and came out by the side of a tarmac road. A wider group of a dozen or so met them there, each looking as dishevelled and tired as they were.

Bill Weasley met them first.

"How is he?" Sirius asked under his breath.

"He's alright," Bill said. "I gave him the usual. Ron's with him. Don't know how much longer he'll keep doing this. You've seen the look in his eyes."

He nodded.

"Aye, I've seen it."

Uniting, the group climbed and passed back through the field of craters and debris. As they began to increase in altitude, the distance held the distinct dark blue twinkle of the sea and it's accompanying white cliffs - a famous sight, though that offered little solace for the current situation. The wind brought over its salty stench, which was a refreshing change from the burnt foliage and dry smoke they'd just fought through.

They moved fast and reached a sharp incline - sharper than his chest would have liked. There was still a ways away, but now they could see what Tonks had spotted from a distance. It had been a month since they had last found somewhere suitable to stay. And it was a sad day when Sirius Black admitted he regretted leaving Grimmauld Place. He hadn't liked the place - it was cold and cramped and full of memories, but it had been safe. And it was better than this.

"This looks ideal," Haywood said.

"Is that a rock quarry?" Bill asked.

As they proceeded up the ridge they began to be greeted with the sight of small ruins, ones clearly built by muggle scientific precision. The indent into the mountain had a flat surface with huge scaling cliffs surrounding either side. Times didn't seem to have been kind to it since its initial carving, as its bottoms were filled with weeds and natural erosion had destroyed at least half of one of the cliff faces.

"Aw, that's bloody brilliant!"

He could swear the woman's cheeks were actually pink. It was difficult to feel any sort of turmoil around someone with such an infectious smile. Nevertheless he couldn't help but feel uneasy. Crumpled walls and dried moats would do nothing to hide the enemy they were up against.

"It might be rundown, but it's defensible. Only one way they could come at us and the wards would long give us warning before they knew we were here."

As they reached the entrance to the cavern, he and Bill took the lead, wands out as they inspected the old stones and rotting wood. Tonks wove her wand through the air and a light purple glow emanated briefly.

"We're alone," she confirmed. "This should keep us safe until we give the place a good check over. Then I'll need Hermione's help setting up something more serious."

"Good enough," Sirius replied. "Haywood! You and Bill linger here. Keep our exits open if we need to bolt."

He turned to Tonks, who was still admiring the quarry.

"We'll check it out. See if there's anything salvageable and put the tents up."

They passed through the threshold and became ants inside the giant valley.

The space was a mess - rubble and moss littered the ground and what remained of the stonework was covered in dust and lichen. A few poorly defined walls and no roof of any - though it was beginning to look promising as an isolated area to keep themselves hidden - it would do nothing to protect them against the elements.

"Wait, have a look at this!" cried a voice that echoed through the empty chamber.

He returned back a few paces. Bill had stumbled across a piece of broken metal. It could have been part of a chair once, before nature had reclaimed it

"What is it?"

Bill got to his knees, bringing it under examination.

"Muggle design. Looks like an old ammunition box. Dad would be able to tell you what kind."

His wording was lost on the two, which he rectified.

"For firearms. Guns, rifles and the like. Weapons."

"Hunters?"

"No. This is heavy duty. And it's been here for some time. I suppose it could be…"

"What about this?" came a second voice.

His head came away from the metallic box to see one of their group by the remnants of a stone wall. Part of it had crumbled away revealing an expanse of metal lining protruding from it. Even with being as unfamiliar with muggle design as he were, he recognised a door when he saw one. It didn't look like it had been opened in decades - perhaps even centuries.

Tonks stepped closer.

"What is that? An underground tunnel? Some kind of mining shaft?" she asked,

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. The air was growing cold and the sky was starting to turn a darker shade. They had no protection from the elements - the ruined quarry provided little shelter - a door was a lifeline they could not afford to pass by.

"Alohomora."

There was a loud click and the steel door swung open, releasing the pungent scent of damp and dust.

"Bill, keep the kids above. Tonks, on my left."

What happened next, he could only relate to the first time he and James ventured into the forgotten areas of Hogwarts castle. Lifeless and abandoned, but with the clear distinctiveness of once having supported life. They found the remnants of a staircase, which led through the archway into a dark and dank passage, made of materials that were entirely unsuited for the rocky ruins around them.

The next door they encountered was weaker, made of solid oak and had been crudely sealed with an iron bar. Through it they were greeted with more darkness, until Tonks' lit up her wand to reveal a tight corridor beyond.

Sirius took a deep breath, which seemed to echo through the space. The air down here was stale.

Tonks made a turn through a doorway to their right. Sirius followed into what he feared could soon become a labyrinth. But as he turned the corner he was met with a facefull of brown hair, as she'd stopped to examine the next room. The air was even damper than before - and smelled like vinegar. There were even more signs of life in here, with a desk, table and what looked like a muggle radio. The walls were lined with shelves and several stacks of wooden crates.

Sirius brought himself to the desk, where he found something that was about to answer their questions. He lit up the wall and revealed a metal plaque with letters engraved into it. They were faded, but he could still make them out.

"Royal Air Force base… Swingate Down, Dover… In service from nineteen-thirteen to nineteen-twenty... Then nineteen-thirty-eight to nineteen-forty-five…" he muttered.

"This is a muggle army base!" came a voice from behind.

" - MERLIN'S BEARD!" he yelled.

" - BLOODY HELL!" Tonks shrieked.

"HERMIONE!" they shouted in tangent.

"Sorry, sorry!" the younger girl apologised as she appeared between them.

"Told you to wait outside!"

"Don't you see? This is perfect!" she beamed. "This place survived two world wars! It might even have a working generator!"

Steadying himself, Sirius took a breath.

She had a point.

If they were underground then Dementers couldn't find them. And if the Death Eaters managed to, they'd still have the strategic advantage. But they would also be trapped.

It smelled like a mix of damp and something he could only describe as death.

Three hours passed as they spent the time mercilessly securing the area. Haywood found a supposedly safe to eat crate of army rations, while Bill did his father proud and was indeed able to get the old fashioned generator working. There was no running water, but electricity and heating was still more than they got from camping. And there was enough room for them to spread out - perhaps even have their own rooms - but nobody felt being on their own was a good idea. The kids shared a space closest to the furnace, Penny and Tonks took a corner while Bill and Sirius took the other together. They were hungry, cold and afraid. But they were alive - which was all that mattered.

Hermione had kept a decent food supply in her bigger-on-the-inside beaded bag, which has been a lifeline the likes nobody in the group had expected. They portioned out a canned stew and ate in silence, the vast emptiness of the metal labyrinth loud in the air.

Sirius read through a stack of newspapers he'd managed to acquire as they passed through Oliver Dall in Brighton - the last wizarding community they'd visited before dropping from the map completely. There wasn't much information relevant to them and even then, he didn't trust what he found.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked.

Sirius flipped the front of the newspaper in their direction and a large picture of a familiar, hook-nosed, black-haired man stared at them all.

"No!" answered Ron and Hermione loudly.

Hermione was quickest; she snatched up the newspaper and began to read the accompanying story out loud.

"Snape as Headmaster - Merlin's pants!" she shrieked, making Ron jump.

"'Merlin's pants'?" Ron repeated, looking amused. "She must be upset. Basically a slur for her."

"The other teachers won't stand for this! McGonagall and Flitwick and Sprout all know the truth, they know how Dumbledore died! They won't accept Snape as headmaster! And who are these Carrows?"

"They're Death Eaters," came a rare voice.

Maybe it was the low lighting, or maybe it was that he hadn't had a chance to shave in a week - but Sirius could have sworn that at that very moment, James was back among them.

"They were at the top of the tower when Snape killed Dumbledore," Harry continued.

Sirius nodded darkly.

"He's right. And I can't see that the other teachers have got any choice but to stay. If he's got Death Eaters inside the walls, they'll stay to try and protect the students."

"Is there anything else in there?"

"The usual wanted posters… Oh, the ministry is now offering a reward for your capture - or your body," he replied. "Fifty thousand pounds alive, twenty-five thousand dead."

There was silence again. Nobody spoke. Nobody knew what to say.

"Fifty thousand galleons..." Hermione said, finally.

"Aye," Ron replied. "I might off him myself for that price."

Hermione snorted and the rest of the group laughed. Sirius felt a little better. They may have been hunted and outnumbered, but they weren't defeated. The fight was still in them, and that was enough.

He turned to the next paper, his eyes itching over the next article. Unfortunately, his shock leaked to his face before he had time to correct it.

"What is it?" Harry asked urgently.

He whipped the paper away, but doing so only caused more eyes to fall on him.

"Nothing. Just more muggle attacks."

"Sirius!"

Before he had chance to full conceal the paper, Harry had his wand out.

"Accio!"

A sickening tear and the paper flew into his hands, followed by harsh seconds of silence as he read it.

Sirius stared at the ceiling above him.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Harry passed the paper to Hermione. "I told you we need to help her. We can't just -"

"Mate…" Ron tried.

"This is her world, Harry," he halted them both. She'll know how to handle it. Have faith. She'll have Kingsley present at her trial. He won't let any harm come to her. And if she has to go into hiding… he'll get her to us."

Even as he spoke, he knew anything he could say would be meaningless. He, of them all, knew what it was like to be so far separated from those you'd give anything to protect. When the fire in Harry's eyes flared, he couldn't find it in himself to disagree.

"We need the horcruxes," he leaned forward. "Daphne has the only one that we actually - definitively - know where it is. And her trail will be the only place where we know - definitively - where she will be!"

"And she'll be under the most amount of protection the ministry can provide," he followed on uselessly. "Harry, they're probably hoping you'll do something daft. Why else would they let something as trivial as a school-yard fight make it to the Ministry judgement? Much less hit the newspapers?"

"We can't just throw her to the wolves!"

"I agree!" he resorted to raising his voice. "But that's not what we're doing. I agree she'd be better off with us, I do! But while she has allies at Hogwarts, she is safer than we are. I promise you if that changes, we'll re-examine our priorities."

Hermione brought a gentle hand to Harry's shoulder.

"You say she has no idea of its properties? And none of You-Know-Who's followers know about it? Then it won't be going anywhere. It'd be smarter to forward our abilities towards finding the rest and then go for the easiest last."

"She's got a point, mate. I don't want Ginny there anymore than you want Greengrass, but it's best," Ron said, then before he even had a chance to retort, thrust the newspaper back towards him, "And - look at the date."

Another second ticked, then Harry's devastation was all over his face.

"... This is last week's paper," he answered. "So her trial is already over?"

"And we missed it," Sirius finished for him. "It's been and gone and she's probably already back at Hogwarts by now."

"Well, where's today's one!? What was the result!? Don't tell me…"

He folded the newspaper up and dropped it into the pile beside them.

"We can send someone to try and fetch one tomorrow. It'll be dangerous, but I know it matters. For now, we should get some rest. It's going to be a long night."

It took hours before the fire in the furnace surrendered and died. Harry watched the flames dim and went out. Darkness filled the shelter again - complete darkness.

The scene filled him with a fleeting memory - his eleventh birthday. He remembered blowing out the candles of the cake he'd drawn into the dirt floor of a broken down shack, a mile out to sea. It had been his first ever birthday party. Then Hagrid turned up with a letter and a train ticket and… It had changed everything for him.

The shelter grew colder than it had been, he could feel it. But even as the chill enveloped him and he tried to sleep, it never came.

With the little light they had, Harry was only barely able to make out the silhouette of his hand and the wand that rested in it. Black, phoenix feather core and thirteen-and-a-half inches long. It's brother had been used to curse him, but this had been used to save him countless times - it had summoned his firebolt when he fought against the Hungarian Horntail dragon and saved him instinctively from Voldemort's killing curse not a few weeks ago. And yet at the end of last year, it had been used against him. The wand had never failed him, but in that moment, it had betrayed him.

Daphne was loyal to him. She was loyal to Harry Potter, but not to the Order of the Phoenix. She had betrayed them by saving his life, but he knew better than to blame her for it. He'd done nothing less than the exact same, should the situations have been reversed. They, of course, had planned to reach out to both her and Tracey. But as the Ministry fell to a coo from the Death Eaters, they'd had to abandon the Burrow with barely a moment's notice. No time to send out a letter. And by now she was already back behind the walls of Hogwarts - the safest place in the wizarding world, as Hagrid had once told him. Frankly, though he'd still argue otherwise, he knew they had a better chance of getting to Voldemort himself than penetrating Hogwarts defences.

As he lay on the floor, thoughts of the Horcruxes and the daunting mission Dumbledore had left him swirled in his head.

The grief that had possessed him since the astronomy tower felt different now. The accusations he'd heard at the wedding seemed to have nested in his brain like a diseased thing, infecting and polluting his memories of the wizard he had once idolised. He thought of Godric's Hollow, of the graves Dumbledore had never mentioned there and the mysterious objects left without explanation in his will.

Resentment swelled in the darkness. Why hadn't Dumbledore told him? What else hadn't he explained? Had he actually cared about Harry at all? Or had he been nothing more than a tool to be polished and honed, but not trusted, never confided in?

"You alright mate?" Ron asked from the darkness.

"Yeah…" he lied. "Just thinking."

"This is mad," he said.

"What?"

"This - all of it."

A feminine groan came from the opposite side of the dark.

"Ronald," she said. "Trying to sleep, here."

There was another moment of silence. He looked hard around the room. He could make out the other shapes sleeping - Tonks, Penny, Bill, Sirius - which meant it was just them left awake now. The last three.

"How can you sleep?" Ron asked.

"Because I'm tired," she replied. "You should try it. It's good for you."

"Yeah, alright."

There was a shuffling that told Ron was rearranging himself in place. Harry lay back too. He tried to close his eyes. He tried to forget about Daphne, about Hogwarts. About the Horcruxes. About Dumbledore. But he couldn't. It was impossible. It would be easier if he knew what was going to happen next. But he didn't. Nobody did. They were alone and nobody was coming for them. They had to help themselves - whatever it took.

Harry turned to Ron, he saw the boy's eyes were closed. Hermione had gone to sleep as well. He turned back to the ceiling.

He didn't know what would happen next. Nobody did.

But he knew they had to survive - whatever it took.