AN: We can't stop here, this is bat country.
Nothing to Lose
Harry was beginning to get worried, every letter he'd sent out to his friends had been returned unopened. When he'd tried asking Hedwig what was going on she'd just replied with a mournful bark.
"Neville," Harry said suddenly. "Do you think you could get something to him, girl?"
"Preck," Hedwig agreed.
Harry jotted down a quick request for information and attached it to the owl's leg. "Wait a few minutes for a reply, please."
Hedwig affectionately nipped Harry's outstretched finger for a few moments before hopping off her perch and flying out the window to accomplish her task.
Harry watched until his friend had faded from sight before going down to take care of his chores. He was in the middle of his yard work when the sound of someone stepping on a twig caught his attention.
"Who's there?" Harry demanded. There was no reply to his query. "Who's there or I'll start hexing?" Harry said louder, his fingers closed around the grip of his wand.
"It's me," Remus said as he pulled the hood off his invisibility cloak.
"Remus," Harry sighed in relief, "you scared me."
"Sorry about that, Harry," Remus said with a forced smile.
"What are you doing here?" Harry asked intently. "Are you here to take me away from the Dursleys?"
"I'm here to keep an eye on you," Remus replied. "Can't take any chances, what with 'you-know-who' being back."
"I guess," Harry said slowly. "What can you tell me about the war? What's happening?"
"I shouldn't even be talking to you, Harry." Remus looked uncomfortable at the admission. "Just . . . just stay in your room for a couple more weeks and then we'll se what we can do, 'eh?"
"What about Ron and Hermione?" Harry persisted. "Do you know why they haven't been sending me any letters this year?"
"I really can't talk about that," Remus said slowly, "just wait a couple weeks, Harry."
"I understand," Harry said in a subdued voice. And he did, there was only one reason that his friends wouldn't write to him over the summer. He'd hoped that it wasn't true but Remus' response was confirmation enough for the boy. "I'll just . . . I'll just go back to my room then," Harry suggested. He turned his back and began walking back to the house.
Remus wanted to call out to the boy, wanted to tell him that everything would be alright and that he'd only have to wait a couple more weeks before he'd be with his friends again but he did not. In the end, Dumbledore's orders were more important than the duty he had to his dead friend's son.
IIIIIIIIII
Harry returned to his room and waited until late that night for Hedwig to return. It wasn't until the sun began to turn the sky red that he sadly concluded that he'd sent his owl to her death, one more friend gone.
He really didn't have much to live for, Harry thought to himself as he stared at the wall dully, not anymore anyway. In the beginning, Hogwarts had been wonderful because of the promise it offered to learn magic and to have a relatively Dursley free year. After the first year though, after the first year it was the friendships he'd made that had caused his eagerness to go back. Friendships that had come to an end, friends that had died because of their relationship to him. What other reason did Voldemort have to target them so soon?
Harry let out a deep breath, Voldemort had deprived him of his main reason to keep on going. Harry thought it only fair to reply in kind, to destroy everything that Voldemort had spent so many years building up, to send a hundred Death Eaters to tell his friends that they hadn't been forgotten, to have his revenge.
He had his purpose, now all he had to do was figure out what he needed to make it happen. Harry spent another twenty minutes staring blankly at the wall before he had a sudden burst of inspiration. He knew what he needed, he knew how to make it happen.
Apparition can't be too hard if mediocre wizards like Dung could do it, Harry thought to himself, and it wasn't like he hadn't already done it once before. Harry's eyes unfocused as he concentrated on his destination. For a few seconds, nothing happened, then with a large pop, Harry disappeared.
IIIIIIIIII
Tonks looked up in alarm when her trained ears caught something that sounded like magical transport. A quick check of the wards confirmed that her ears had to have been playing tricks on her and she soon settled down to wait out the rest of her shift.
IIIIIIIIII
Harry waited in one of the passages under the school watching his father's map for hours until Filch was the only person in the castle.
Seizing his chance, Harry rushed through the castle and into the Hospital wing. He desperately hoped that Madame Pomfrey would forgive him for plundering her potions stores. Harry glanced down at his watch, didn't look like he had enough time to visit the dungeon before he had to leave, unless.
"Dobby," Harry called out.
"What is great Harry Potter sir doing in the castle in summer?" Dobby asked.
"Never mind that," Harry said quickly. "Could you do me a big favor, Dobby?"
"Dobby will do anything, Harry Potter sir?"
"Pack up any complete Potions that Snape has and bring them to me," Harry ordered.
"Yes, Harry Potter sir." Dobby popped out and returned a few minutes later with a large box. "Dobby also took Professor Snarky's book on potions uses."
"Great job, Dobby."
Tears welled in the elf's eyes. "Harry Potter sir is praising Dobby?"
"You deserve it," Harry said honestly. "Goodbye, Dobby."
"Goodbye, Harry Potter sir." The elf looked up mournfully, having caught the tone of finality in Harry's words. "Dobby won't be seeing Harry Potter sir again?"
"I don't know," Harry admitted. "Could you tell Pomfrey that I raided her stores?"
"Yes, Harry Potter sir."
Without a backward glance, Harry walked out of the Hospital wing and towards the nearest passage. Dobby watched the door Harry walked through until the school Healer returned, afraid that he'd seen the greatest wizard of the age for the last time.
"Dobby has a message for Prefessy Healer," Dobby said loudly.
"What is it?" Poppy asked.
"Prefessy Healer's potions are raided," Dobby announced before disappearing with a pop.
Alarmed, Poppy rushed to check her potions cabinet and was relieved to see that she still had fifty percent of her stock on hand. Grateful that whoever it was had left her enough of a reserve to deal with emergencies, Poppy pulled out her potion set and prepared to replenish her stock. Granted, she could just ask Severus to do it for her. Point of fact, it was part of the man's job description. Problem was, despite Dumbledore's assurances she could never bring herself to trust the man. Once a Death Eater, ever a Death Eater. She owed it to her patients to ensure that none of their potions had been tampered with.
IIIIIIIIII
Harry had once heard that people lived and died because of Information. He gritted his teeth as another wave of pain emanated from his scar. He'd never appreciated how useful a connection to Voldemort could be before, never realized how much a window into his nemesis' mind could benefit him. Lives are saved and lost because of information, Harry intended to use his source to keep the good guys alive and see that many bad guys died.
IIIIIIIIII
It was an initiation run. Several of the green recruits had been given over to an experienced follower from the first rise. Their task was to go out and eliminate a family of muggles. The leader had picked a city based on the fact that he did not like its name and sent his trainees out to find a suitable proving ground.
So intent were the Death Eaters on their target that none of them noticed the shadowy figure that dogged their movements.
"How about this house?" One of the new recruits whispered to the squad leader. "Six muggles, four of them children."
"Go in and . . ." he trailed off when one of the recruits collapsed. "Thinks of a little violence and the little baby collapses," the leader sneered. "The Dark Lord will not be pleased." He looked down and for a moment, gaped in shock at the rapidly expanding puddle of blood. "Ambush," he screamed as two more of his recruits fell to the ground. "Retreat," he screamed as the fourth curse neatly bisected another recruit.
Harry cautiously approached the four fallen Death Eaters and, after a moment of thought, hit each one in the neck with a cutting curse. Never hurt to be sure and he was past the point of being willing to take prisoners, or leave live enemies behind.
IIIIIIIIII
The Duty Auror glanced down at the notice he'd received from the Improper Use of Magic Office. Seems they'd detected heavy magic use in a predominantly muggle area. A quick records check had confirmed the fact that there were no muggleborn students in the area so the entire case had been delivered to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement much too late to do anything about it.
"Hey dumb ass," the Duty Auror called out. "Get your ass out of your rack. Time to earn your pay."
"What's up?"
"Magic use in a muggle area, go dispel the Dark Mark and assess the damage."
"I'll wake up my partner and we'll be on our way," the Auror agreed.
IIIIIIIIII
Harry sat back and relaxed as the adrenaline wore off, taking the time to go over everything that had happened to find and correct any mistakes he may have made.
"Should have taken the leader first," Harry noted to himself. "Also should have been quicker with my spells. Need to find some way to keep them from escaping."
IIIIIIIIII
The two Aurors were pleasantly surprised when they arrived and did not immediately find a Dark Mark hovering over one of the houses.
"Check it out." He waved at the killing field where the Death Eaters had met their fate. "Not something you see every day."
"Not something I've seen ever," his partner replied.
"Notice me not charms?"
"On everything, bloody lucky the muggles haven't woken up yet and contaminated our crime scene."
"I'm happy enough with the fact that this lot learned what it was like to be on the other side for once."
"You check the area, I'll call in what we know."
"Right." The Auror made a quick walk through the area before returning to his partner's side.
"Now then, let's see what we can see, shall we?"
"We shall." He summoned the masks off the three Death Eaters that were laying face up.
"Know any of these three?"
"Nope."
"One left," he commented. The Auror turned the corpse over with the toe of his boot, another nudge removed the mask. "You know this one?"
"Must be a new recruit," his partner replied, "same as the other three."
"Guess the leader got away from . . . . uh . . ."
"Whatever happened to these bastards?" the other Auror suggested.
"Works for me."
IIIIIIIIII
Harry woke up screaming. He glanced at the clock, two hours after he'd gone to sleep, didn't they ever bloody rest? He downed a stimulant potion, then another after a moment of hesitation. Madame Pomfrey had once told him that too many stimulant potions could lead to long term damage. He didn't have a long term, so he wasn't going to worry about the damage.
IIIIIIIIII
They hadn't been long out of school before they'd married and started a family. Three years in her case, and two in his. They'd been happy in their little house by the sea, their first born was almost Hogwarts age and their second was growing like a weed. They'd shared heartfelt sighs of relief when the Prophet had assured them that the Dark Lord hadn't returned. That relief had turned to dread when the special edition had come out to inform the world that the 'Paper of Record' had made a small mistake when they'd stated that 'you-know-who' was gone for good.
They were both muggleborn, high on the list of targets. Though neither had been a particularly good student, they'd both done their best to fortify their little home. Hours of work, brushed aside in seconds when the Death Eaters came.
"Should we go in and root the mudbloods out?" One of the Death Eaters asked.
"And risk ourselves?" Another scoffed. "Burn the bloody place down, we'll get them when they come out or we'll have the pleasure of listening to their screams.
The husband and wife watched in horror as the Death Eaters overcame the fire prevention wards.
"Maybe . . . maybe I could distract them while you get out with the children?" The husband suggested hopefully.
"I . . . I . . ." the wife looked at her lover with tears in her eyes.
A sharp scream brought their attention back to the front yard. A dirty figure clad in bloody rags had arrived and was dueling the Death Eaters. Already, the bodies of three of their tormentors littered the ground.
"Retreat," one of the Death Eaters screamed in panic.
A dozen pops signaled the end of the battle. Their rescuer shot the house a look of longing before he too disappeared with a pop.
"Floo's back on," one of the children called out.
"I better go call this in," the wife said.
"Yeah," the husband agreed, "and I'd better make sure the fires are out."
"I love you."
"I love you too."
The Aurors arrived within minutes to take their statements and clean up the bodies that littered their front lawn.
"Could you give us a description of the man who saved you?" The Auror asked.
"He looked . . . he looked . . ." the husband glanced at his wife with a look of helplessness on his face.
"Like he was about to die," the woman said without hesitation.
"Yes," the husband agreed, "like a walking corpse."
"What?"
"He was gaunt and his hair was tangled and dirty," the man began, "he . . . his skin was pale and waxy."
"He was dressed in rags," the wife chipped in, "and it didn't look as if he'd shaved in a couple days."
"What color was his hair?"
"Looked like it was black," the man replied, "but as dirty as it was . . ." he trailed off.
"I'm sorry we couldn't be more help," the wife said quickly.
"No, no this fits with what we've learned at the other scenes."
"There have been other attacks?"
"And your hero's arrived each time to save the targets," the Auror replied with a grin. "So far it's good guys; fifteen, bad guys; zero."
"Do you know who he is?"
"No, but you'll have to wait in line to thank him after we figure it out." The Auror closed his book. "I'll have some people from the department come here later to reinforce your wards."
"Thank you."
IIIIIIIIII
Harry chugged another potion, he wasn't sure how long it'd been since he'd had a decent meal or a good night's rest. He'd foiled five attacks since he'd started his one man crusade against the Dark Lord and had killed at least a dozen Death Eaters. Harry groaned as another vision came. The pain was becoming more manageable. Or perhaps the dull ache of a dozen poorly treated injuries was shorting out his ability to process it all. Shrugging the thought off as unimportant, Harry downed a pain relieving potion before making his preparations for the battle to come.
IIIIIIIIII
Amelia knew she was outclassed within seconds of beginning her duel with the Dark Lord. Sure she'd managed to get in some good hits, but it was obvious that the Dark Lord was toying with her.
"Any last words?" Voldemort demanded.
"When you get to hell, I'll be waiting," Amelia said defiantly. Above all else, she was determined not to show an ounce of fear.
"How droll. Av . . ." Voldemort swayed to the side to avoid a sickly yellow curse. "Who dares . . ."
"Reducto," the mystery wizard incanted. "Morior, aduro, pungo, pupugi, punctum."
"Potter," Voldemort growled, "Avada Kedavra."
Harry levitated a piece of rubble into the path of the incoming curse and banished several more at his opponent.
Amelia watched in awe as the two powerhouses traded blow after blow. It soon became sadly apparent that despite an impressive amount of natural ability, the Potter boy was being slowly worn down over the course of the fight.
"Aurors," one of the Death Eaters called out, "Aurors arriving."
"Next time, Potter, next time," Voldemort spat. The dark wizard disappeared with a pop.
"Next time," Harry agreed. He glared down at the spot that his nemesis had so recently occupied. He turned his head and gazed over at Amelia. "Are you alright, Director Bones?" he asked in a soft, concerned voice.
"I'll live," Amelia replied sardonically. "So what brings you to this part of England?"
"Revenge," Harry said simply. He turned away and reached into his pocket.
"Wait," Amelia called out as the boy disappeared.
"Director Bones?" a field healer called out as she rushed to her boss's side. "Do you know what spells you got hit with?"
"Nothing too serious," Amelia replied, "a couple broken bones." She gave a pained laugh. "My rescuer arrived before they were able to do use the killing curse."
"Signs of repeated crucio," the woman muttered.
"A touch never hurt anyone," Amelia said with a wave. "They didn't use it enough to do any permanent damage."
"Scene's clear, Boss." The commander of the quick reaction force reported. "Orders?"
"Get me to the department infirmary, recall all off duty personnel, and tell forensics that I want them to go over this with a fine toothed comb."
"Yes, boss."
"Oh, and see if you can produce Harry Potter for me, I'd like to have a word with the boy."
"Produce?" the man's eyebrows raised. "In what way?"
"Alive, unharmed, and in a good mood. Make sure he knows that he's not on the hook for anything."
"Yes, Boss."
IIIIIIIIII
Harry hissed in pain as he pulled another fragment of something out of his side. He wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to continue his crusade. Harry took several deep breaths before downing half a dozen potions to heal his injuries. If he didn't have much more time, then so be it, he was determined to be as productively destructive as possible in the time he had left.
IIIIIIIIII
"Boss, you're not gonna like this." One of Amelia's forensic Healers announced as he walked into her office.
"What is it?"
"We've got the test results in from the blood Potter left at your house, it's ugly."
"Hit me."
"Looks like the boy's running on potions," the forensics man said thoughtfully. "Not even sure how the boy's still moving, let alone fighting."
"Damn it, put the word out that I want him found yesterday and have a medical team on standby."
"Yes, boss."
"Boss," another one of her underlings called out as he rushed into her office. The man handed Amelia a piece of paper. "You gotta take a look at this."
"Last Will and Testament of Harry James Potter," Amelia read aloud.
"We found this under a loose floorboard in the boy's room," the Auror reported. "It's bad boss, There's a cover letter that's basically a suicide note. It says he wants to be buried next to one of his best friends, says that he knows they were killed by Voldemort, says that . . . just read it boss."
"I wasn't aware that his relationship with Cedric Diggory was so close," Amelia murmured. "I . . ." she froze when she saw the names on the page. "Find out if this is true," Amelia barked, "I can't believe that two Hogwarts students have been killed without our department's knowledge."
"Already on it, Boss."
"Well?"
"We can't find them, boss. Families say that they're alright though."
"I want them in my office and ready to talk yesterday," Amelia barked.
"Yes, Boss."
IIIIIIIIII
Harry collapsed when he got back to his current hideout. Despite the pain and fatigue, there was a wide smile on the boy's face. For the first time ever, he'd managed to take the whole team of Death Eaters. Of the fourteen man strike team, not a single one had managed to escape. Granted, it had cost a pint of blood and three broken ribs, but Harry thought it was well worth it. He downed a couple more potions to replenish the blood and dull the pain. Now if only they'd hold off long enough to let him get a few hours of sleep.
IIIIIIIIII
Amelia looked when one of her Aurors knocked on her door.
"What?" She growled.
"We've got Potter's friends," the Auror announced.
"Where were they?"
"Dumbledore was sitting on them," the Auror replied. "Tonks brought 'em in, Shack is still pretending that he doesn't know anything about it."
"Have Tonks sit in interrogation room four, arrest Shack and put him in holding cell nine."
"Yes, boss. What do you want us to do with Potter's friends?"
"Bring them here, I'll see them in my office."
"Yes, boss." The Auror disappeared and returned a few minutes later with Ron and Hermione.
"Have a seat," Amelia ordered. She checked her file. "Your names are Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, correct?"
"Yes, Madame Bones," Ron replied.
"You are both friends with Harry Potter, correct?"
"Yes, Madame Bones," Ron said respectfully.
"When was the last time you had any contact with him?" Amelia asked.
"We haven't . . . um . . ." Ron looked uncomfortable.
"We haven't had any contact with Harry since the Hogwarts express," Hermione said dully.
"Why not?" Amelia asked more sharply then she'd intended.
"Dumbledore . . . Dumbledore said that Harry didn't want to talk to us," Hermione sobbed. "We tried to write him but he never answered." The girl buried her face in her hands. "Why doesn't he want to speak with us, what's wrong with me?"
Ron patted his friend awkwardly on the back. "She even tried using the felley . . . er . . . Hermione . . ."
"I tried to call him on the phone but his relatives just told me that he didn't want to talk with me," Hermione said with a great shuddering breath, "I've tried everything I could think of and there's never any reply."
"I see," Amelia said softly. She pulled a piece of parchment out of her desk and handed it to the girl. "Would you mind telling me what you think of this?"
AN: Polish by Silas Dunsmore, moncapitan2002, zambkptkn, bannerfirefly. Title by Jim - xinu and clell65619.