CHAPTER ONE
THE UNTHINKABLE
It was a vanilla standard day at 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Harry had just been locked in his bedroom for another important meeting his uncle Vernon was sponsoring for his company's prospective clients. Sitting at his desk, he looked longingly to the north, the general direction that Hogwarts lay. It had only been five years since that fateful day when he actually resided in a small cupboard beneath the stairs and had reached the age of eleven. What a day that was! Uncle Vernon had lost his facilities on account of a rather unassuming, yet rather mysterious, letter that was addressed to Harry of all people. It had taken a few weeks for him to find out that this was, in actuality, an invitation to attend what would become his true home, where he would meet his most loyal friends, and gain a much larger family than he could have ever wished for. It had only been recently that the headmaster, Dumbledore, had told Harry much of what had happened in his past: His parent's murder, his prophecy that declared his rather precarious future, and just about everything in between. There were still some nagging questions that flitted back and forth across the back of his mind but he didn't have the strength built up to contemplate asking them. So, he contented himself with the fact that he would soon be spending the rest of his holiday with Ron and Hermione at the Burrow.
It struck Harry just how close his two friends had gotten over the past five years. It had started out much in the same way that most friendships gone romance had: The boy insults or pushes the girl around until the girl gets fed up with the attention and pushes back. Ron had a problem with Hermione's know-it-all attitude from day one, but after that Troll attack instigated by Quirrell/Voldemort they had all been inseparable. True, he had thought about Hermione in more than a friend way from time to time, but as the years passed, he had come to view her as a sister rather than as anything of romantic substance. Cho had been his only foray into that department and what a debacle that experience had been. Not only had he returned via portkey with her current boyfriend's body during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, but he had insulted her with his lack of finesse with women's feelings. After the few times he had actually gotten to spend time with Cho, he had found that he had been drifting apart from her, especially after the events of last term. His godfather, Sirius, had died right in front of his eyes. Of course he didn't believe it at the time. Bellatrix Lestrange had sent a curse his way and he fell through the veil of death's doorway. It was only a cloth veil to another place! How could he have died!? If you could enter the place on the other side of the opening, couldn't you come back!?
Feeling the rage and depression building in him, Harry took a few deep breaths and tried to clear his mind. Wiping away the tears of frustration and sadness, he began to remove emotion from his thoughts and take himself into a deep recess of his mind. He had learned at least the basics of occlumency from professor Snape, the resident potions master at Hogwarts. Learning this special technique was a godsend. Being able to sleep without having his dreams tampered with was the original purpose. Dumbledore didn't want Harry to suffer the effects of Voldemort gaining any type of foothold in Harry's subconscious or conscious mind, giving the dark lord a means to destroy their only savior. Harry also found that if he used the mind exercises, he could control his rage and frustration much better than he had previously. Whenever he got depressed or angry, he'd fall back on the calming mantra and allow himself to pull away from the emotions and give himself some breathing room to think about things with a clear state of mind. It didn't take away the hurt entirely, but it certainly helped, and with the stress of living with his muggle relatives, it allowed him some semblance of a 'normal' life. Gone were the days of his Cousin Dudley's torments. True, they continued unabated, but he found that ignoring his portly cousin would make him bored and he'd plod off to do something that was far more entertaining than pummeling Harry.
A voice boomed from downstairs, "And that's when Mr. Yamada spat out the golf ball!" Laughter erupted from the sitting room and Harry could easily make out his Aunt Petunia's high, shrilled chortles.
"So, Uncle Vernon finally finished his Japanese golfer joke." Harry muttered to himself. Hedwig fluffed her feathers in her cage and took over staring out the window. "I'm sorry, Hedwig." Harry said with a glimmer of sadness still on his voice, "But I can't let you out until Uncle Vernon's guests have left and they all go to bed. It won't be long, I promise."
Hedwig let out a soft purr of a hoot and settled back on her perch. She seemed content enough to just look out the window for the time being.
Harry looked down at his desk and sighed. He'd just received his letter for the upcoming year and the results of his O.W.L.s. How he'd managed near perfect marks he couldn't quite fathom. How did he receive an O in every subject but astronomy? At least he understood why he only got an A in that subject. That was the night that Hagrid had been attacked by Ministry Aurors and had successfully escaped. Oh, how he wished he could forget what happened last year.
Feeling the depression swelling in him again, he decided it best to concentrate fully on clearing his thoughts and receding to the depths of his mind. After what seemed to be a few minutes, Harry became acutely aware that it had gone dead silent in the house. He didn't hear anything but the beating of his heart, the tick tock of his bedside clock, and the soft creaking of floorboards outside of his bedroom door. A door that was being unlocked in an unusually unpracticed way! Sensing that there was something strange afoot, Harry quickly reached into his trunk and threw his father's invisibility cloak over his head. The shimmering, silky fabric swept around him silently and he vanished with ease. Ducking into the corner of his room where the shadows were deepest, he fought to keep his breathing quiet and regular and slowly drew out his wand.
The door opened and to his relief, his uncle's flabby frame filled the lit doorway. He looked around blankly and turned back to the hallway. With a flat, almost inhuman voice, he heard his uncle speak.
"The bloody freak isn't here. He must have jumped from the window."
"WHAT?!" A most undeniably recognizable voice shouted in disbelief.
Lucius Malfoy shoved his uncle aside and stormed in the room. He cursed and threw his death eater mask on the floor before putting his fist into Harry's wardrobe.
"WHERE COULD HE HAVE GONE? ANSWER ME!" Malfoy shouted at his zombie-like uncle.
"I don't know. We keep him locked in his room most of the time. Some times he comes home covered in mud. Maybe he went to the park." Uncle Vernon droned methodically.
With that, Malfoy snatched up his mask, turned to Uncle Vernon and raised his wand.
"AVADA ..." he began in a hoarse, whispered voice but didn't finish. He was startled by something in the corner of the room. Turning to look, Lucius saw nothing but the floor of the small room.
"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!"
Lucius went stiff as a board and fell flat on his face.
Quickly checking his surroundings, Harry looked out the window to see if more death eaters were standing outside. Nothing. His uncle was still in the zombie-state that Malfoy had put him in. Frantic, Harry swiped his cloak and put it on. He then took the death eater's wand and snuck into the hall and listened, just his uncle's labored breathing and his pounding heart was there. His scar wasn't reacting in any way, which was, in general, a good thing when his enemies were afoot.
As quickly and quietly as he could, Harry inched his way down the hall, straining his ears against the deafening silence. As he reached the top of the stairs, he quickly peeked over the banister to the landing below. Nobody was there. He crept down the stairs gingerly and stepped over a squeaky board and reached the ground floor. There were no other death eaters about. But the scene in the lounge had him aghast! Everyone was frozen in a particular pose. It was as if time had stopped and everyone had been stuck in the middle of one conversation or another. Looking at the clock on the mantle, Harry confirmed that time had indeed been stopped and it had encircled the entire house!
Without wasting any time, he rushed back upstairs and grabbed a small pouch that Lupin had given him. Harry rushed back downstairs to the fireplace and threw a pinch in.
"12 Grimmauld Place!" He said quickly and stuck his head into the green flames.
Mrs. Weasley was finishing the night's dishes when she caught a flicker from the fireplace. She glanced at the flames subconsciously and jumped out of her skin!
"Harry? Harry! You scared the bloody hell out of me!" She croaked. Then she noticed the look of fear on his face. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"There are death eaters here at my uncle's house!" He began to explain hurriedly. "Somehow, Lucius Malfoy has stopped time around the place! I didn't see any of his friends, but it could be that they got stuck in the time stop charm trying to apparate in!"
"You need to get out of there right away!" Molly began when Lupin entered the room at a run, startling both Molly and Harry.
"There's going to be a death eater attack on Harry! I need to get to him!" The color drained from his face when he saw Harry's head in the fireplace.
"Harry, quickly continue. Where is Malfoy now?" the woman pressed.
"He's unconscious in my room. I hit him with a petrificus totalus. He didn't see that it was me, I was ... hidden ... from view." Harry quickly replied.
"Harry, Tonks and Moody should be there in just a few minutes. Get your things together and meet them at your bedroom window." Remus quickly explained. "I'm going to pass this bag through the floo." He held up a small, lumpy bag. "In it you'll find deapparators that have been modified by Dumbledore to also act as a memory charm. You are to place one on Malfoy's forehead and the rest on each doorknob and window sill on the first floor. These are all black. The pink ones you find in the bag should be placed on the foreheads of any muggles in the house. They will wipe any memory of the attack from their minds and give them an irresistible urge to visit relatives that are as far away from there as possible. You must hurry, Harry, there is no telling when the charm will falter!"
Harry nodded quickly and pulled himself out of the enchanted flames. A few seconds later, the bag of deapparators skidded to his feet from a flare of green fire. Working quickly, he placed a pink pellet on the foreheads of his benefactors, if you could call them that, and each of their guests. He sprinted to each of the windows and the doors and placed the black pellets as he was instructed, then he ran flat-out up the stairs into the hall. His uncle lay crumpled at the top of the stairs. Quickly, Harry glanced to his bedroom door, and then into the shadow steeped room. Lucius was still frozen stiff and lying face down on the bedroom carpet. Without a second thought, Harry bent next to his uncle and checked for a pulse. With a sigh of relief, he found a strong heartbeat and steady breathing. He quickly stuck another of the pink pellets on his uncle's forehead.
Returning his thoughts to the intruder, Harry tore into his bedroom and placed a black deapperator on the wizard's forehead. Harry took a few numbed steps backward as lightning snaked out of the pellet and wrapped Lucius in a coil of glowing blue energy and the familiar sound of deapparation filled the house, leaving him alone in the quiet room.
The sudden silence snapped Harry back to the present and he quickly shoved all his belongings into his trunk when all hell broke loose. Time righted itself immediately; there were six distinct cracking sounds outside the house, followed by a massive amount of bright light and the sound of thunder.
Harry heard his uncle stir in the hallway. His heart began to race when he heard a quiet tapping coming from his window. He crossed his room and quietly shut his door, then crossed again to the now open window, grabbing his broom along the way. Tonks stepped on the sill, gave Harry a grim smile, and lashed his trunk and Hedwig's cage to her broom.
"You'll need to wear your cloak, Harry." Tonks said quickly. "We don't want anyone see you leave. Hedwig should be fine, but we don't want any unwelcome company tailing us."
Wordlessly, Harry threw his enchanted cloak over his shoulders, mounted his broom, and quickly disappeared from view. Hedwig flew out the window and was quickly swallowed by darkness. With a slight hop, Harry was airborne and glided out his open window.
"Follow Hedwig," Tonks whispered to him as he floated past her, and with an unseen nod, Harry raced after the retreating form of his ghostly companion.
Hedwig seemed to be flying like a bird possessed. Straight up into the clouds, a breakneck right bank followed by a death-defying plummet to the Earth, a quick zigzag through a copse of trees, another climb, then, finally, a weaving path through a growing bank of storm clouds. Harry followed the owl as if there were reins pulling him along, Hedwig towing him through the air like Father Christmas and his reindeer. He never let his eyes wander from his feathered friend and followed each and every dive, climb, bank, and loop as if he had been doing this all his life.
After an hour, the snow-white bird settled into a level flight above the clouds. She became a bright beacon to follow through the deepening night. Harry was feeling sick by now with the ebb of adrenaline in his bloodstream and suddenly felt the chill in the air. His stomach gave out a whine of displeasure and he had the sudden realization that he hadn't anything to eat since lunch. He was going to eat dinner after the guests had left.
Well, what a wonderful end to an evening. He thought. How did they get past the wards that Dumbledore had placed on the house? He shuddered at the thought when he noticed that his guide had started to descend towards the London cityscape that sprawled before them like a huge ink stain that reflected the stars above. Without any further thought, he followed, knowing that their destination was not far ahead. With that knowledge came a pang in his heart and the realization of where he was headed.
Breathe deeply. Empty my mind. Step back into the shadows of still and quiet thought. His pulse slowed as he relaxed and felt the discipline guide him into the vaults of his mind. His sadness lessened and he began to think clearly once again.
The air warmed considerably as they lost altitude, quickly approaching the familiar London road. Harry touched down gently in the yard between numbers eleven and thirteen Grimmauld Place and heard the soft thunk of Moody's wooden leg on his right and Tonks' gentle landing on his left. Still wearing their cloaks, they all made for the front door of the house that had squeezed itself in between its neighbors. They stepped inside quickly with Hedwig gliding in and firmly settling herself on the banister to the stairs that led to the second floor. The door closed and locked on number twelve Grimmauld Place, the noble house of Black, and without a sound or disturbance of those on either of its sides, it shrank out of sight. Not a soul was left to bear witness to the events that just occurred on the darkened street.