Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

For all intents and purposes, number 4 of Privet Drive was just as ordinary as any other house in Little Whinging. The garden was immaculately kept by Petunia Dursley, the sometimes nosey wife of Vernan Dursley, who's brand new car was splendidly on show for the entire neighbourhood to see. Their only son, Dudley Dursley, was regarded as a charming young man that the neighbours would invite over for tea - not that he managed to make them, of course, with a reasonable excuse for every occasion tucked away. But there was one bad apple among the lot, that scruffy haired, scruffily dressed nephew of theirs, Harry Potter. If only Privet Drive knew.

Harry Potter had resigned to the fact of, almost quite literally if he was of the Wizarding legal age, locking himself away inside his bedroom. The Dursleys weren't surprised at this one bit. In fact, if they could help it, they shared little to no interaction with that misfit nephew of theirs. Dinner was the odd affair. The tension in the room was as thick as custard, and the measly portions Harry had compared to the over-stuffed plates of his relatives did nothing to help his mood. Still, it didn't stop Vernan wagging a sausage-like finger in Harry's direction and asking him with barely contained anger "Not good enough for you, boy?" Harry did little to quell his uncle's anger, responding with a shrug of his shoulders as he continued poking and prodding the peas on his plate. Thankfully for both their sakes, this was one of the very few occasions they were in each others company. The rest of the time Harry had taken to responding to letters from his friends and catching up on studying. And that's where he find Harry Potter now, sitting on an old rickety chair that groaned under what little weight of him there was, re-reading a letter in his hand.

Dear Harry,

Sorry I haven't written sooner but mum's been a right old brute because of Bill and Fleur's wedding. I swear she's worked my fingers to the bone with stitching! I'm fine myself, and Ron's been kind of a love-sick puppy without Hermione being here yet. Talking of my disgusting brother, he says hi. Can't wait until I see you, Harry!

Love, Ginny.

xxx

He had already replied to this letter around a week ago, but he couldn't help reading it every now and then - especially as he hasn't had a reply yet, no doubt to Molly Weasley's sergeant-like preparation of the wedding. Sighing, Harry placed the letter in the drawer of his desk, poked behind his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He felt tired, not just physically but emotionally. The sudden death of his mentor, guardian and friend all wrapped up in the only man Voldemort was ever frightened off had shaken Harry to his core, not that he let anyone know it had done so much. Now it was up to him. Literally the entire weight of a world on his shoulders, and some days his knees felt like buckling underneath him.

The sound of the doorbell broke Harry from his brooding, quickly followed by his uncle bellowing "Who can that be at this time of night?!" Snatching a glance at his alarm clock, the red lights flashed 10:32 PM. Must be someone for 'Big D', Harry thought, and leaned further back on his chair, which protested under the strain with an unnatural groan, and closed his eyes. Maybe I should send a letter to Lupin, see when they're coming to pick me up, he thought. I've been stuck here for four weeks, and that's four weeks too long in my estimate, never-mind the protection. That sudden thought brought up the question whether the spell still worked now that Dumbledore's gone. Still alive and kicking, Harry thought.

"I will not allow you in this house!" screamed Vernan Dursley, giving his jolly greeting to whoever the heck rang the doorbell. Harry could only hear a faint mumbling in reply. "Don't you point that thing at me! I'll sue!"

Point what at him, Harry thought? And it took a few seconds for things to click in his mind before rushing out of the chair with the speed of an Olympic jogger and almost wrenching the door from it's hinges, only to be greeted by a mane of brown hair.

"Harry, it's so good to see you!" Hermione cried, enveloping Harry in a crushing hug. He could barely move his arms to hug her back.

"It's good to see you too, Hermione." said Harry, trying to peer through her hair to see who else had come up when she finally let go.

"Harry," greeted Lupin, his dishevelled appearance not going unnoticed. "Come, the rest of us are waiting downstairs."

Bet the Dursleys are loving that he thought.

"Sorry we couldn't come sooner, Harry." Hermione interjected on Lupin's behalf. "The Order hasn't been that organized since - well, Dumbledore..." She finished lamely, sneaking a quick glance towards him.

They entered the kitchen in a silence that was quickly broken by Harry's laughter which he tried to cover up into a coughing fit. There at the table was Dudley Dursley, a half-eaten sandwich resting infront of him and his face a mixture of pink and a sickeningly pale white. Tonks was sat beside him, her nose resembling a pigs, her hair a luminous shade of green and her ears closely resembling Dumbo's. He caught Hermione trying to keep the smirk off her face before Mad-Eye Moody stepped over, his appearance even more unkempt than Lupin's - Harry was sure he even had a few new scars.

"Potter!" Greeted Moody with a gruff, and Harry could still barely look into the old Auror's face - his magical eye spun in all types of directions, it couldn't help but make you feel queasy. "Ready to leave?"

"Err...well, I am all packed, but I still need to talk to the Dursleys." Harry said apprehensively, running a hand through his hair. He had been putting off having a chat with them as long as possible, but now that he was finally leaving, the inevitable had suddenly sprung up and bit him on the rear.

"Well, get to it. We haven't got long." Moody gruffed again, putting his focus back on Petunia's delicately placed porcelain figures stacked alongside the windowsill.

"Err, right." Harry said, and headed towards the living room. He noticed Hermione had sped up and was walking alongside him.

"Well, you're not doing it alone." she huffed indignantly to his raised eyebrows. Harry knew better than to argue.

They entered the living room side-by-side as Mr. and Mrs. Dursley sat on their sofa, Vernan's mustache twitching uncontrollably and Petunia's mouth scrunched up like she just took a bite out of a lemon. Harry had to stifle a laugh at the sight of them. There was an uncomfortable silence as he fiddled with a loose bit of cotton on his shirt, while Hermione only looked from him to the Dursleys before sighing.

"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley," she started quite business-like, as if talking to a banker, "I believe Harry has something he's been meaning to tell you." Harry shot her a look of annoyance, to which she only shrugged in return.

"And what's that?" came Vernan's drawl, his beady eyes focusing on his unwanted nephew. It took Harry a few moments to choose his words, finding the juggling man on the TV more interesting.

"I'm leaving," he decided to finally say. Might as well get to point and have it over and done with was the thought he had come up with, no thanks to the juggling man who had been shown the exit of the stage. "For good."

Vernan's narrowed his eyes in scepticism, not sure whether to dance joyously at the sudden news or to berate Harry for getting his hopes up. No doubt a sinister plot with all his weird friends! he thought to himself. Petunia just sat there staring, her mouth scrunching up even more.

"Leaving, are you? Well it's about time!" Vernan shouted, a vein bulging on his forehead. "16 years we've fed you, put a roof over your head and clothes on your back! I think we deserve a thank you."

Harry had already expected such an outburst, but Hermione's jaw dropped with shock. He shook his head slightly, warning her it's no use to argue back, but she ignored him.

"A thank you?" she seethed, and the Dursley's heads turned towards her as if they were connected together by a piece of string. "You've barely fed him, you've given him old clothes about 10 sizes too big and treated him like he actually was a criminal from St. Brutuses!"

"Hermione, really, there's no need-"

"Of course there is, Harry! You lot - " she pointed a finger in the Dursley's direction, who's mouths were wide open in shock before Vernan managed to shake his pig-like head.

"Now listen here!" he interrupted quite fiercely. "You may be a weird friend of his, but I won't have you talking like that to me and my wife in my house!" and Vernan stood up in an attempt to intimidate them both, which was quite laughable in different situation. Hermione quickly raised her wand though, which suddenly made Vernan's demeanor shrink under the silent threat. Harry quickly placed a hand on Hermione's arm, lowering her wand ever so slightly to not be pointed directly at the Dursleys, but for them to know it's still there.

"Thank you, and goodbye." Harry said, pulling Hermione away with him and back into the kitchen.

"Harry, how could you - " she started angrily, but Harry interrupted her.

"Because as much as I'd like to see you turn them into something from a horror movie, all I really want to do is just get out of here." he smiled sadly, and Hermione's anger was suddenly replaced with a sheepish grin of her own. He knew she was ready to hex them into oblivion.

"Bit protective, aren't you, Granger? " Moody barked, his remaining real eye fixed on her.

"Well, you should of heard them!"

"I'm afraid we couldn't over your, er, sudden outburst." Lupin said, smiling softly, and a slight pink tinted Hermione's cheeks.

"Everything ready, Potter?" Moody said, looking out at the night sky as if waiting for a sudden threat to burst out of the clouds.

"Got my trunk and Hedwig by the door."

Moody grunted in response, and suddenly flicked his wand from beneath his robe down the hall. Harry's trunk and hedwig's cage came floating down into the kitchen, settling by the french doors. Another flick of his wrist and the trunk shrunk down to the size of a 50 pence piece.

"Err, thanks," Harry said rather quickly, keeping an eye on Hedwig just incase Moody decided to shrink her too. "So, how are we getting out of here?"

"We can't apparate to the Burrow. You're too young and the anti-apparation charm is still working. No portkeys either. The Floo network has been disconnection from the Burrow for weeks now, we're afraid Voldemort may have infiltrated the Ministry." Lupin answered gravely, and Harry imagined a Voldemort dressed up in a suit behind a desk; even more frightening than his usual self. "We'll have to fly there again." Hermione paled at the thought, but Harry grinned somewhat enthusiastically.

"Great! I haven't flown in ages."

Lupin only smiled, and turned his attention to Moody.

"Any news, Alastor?"

"Apparently it's still all clear, but we'll know that when we finally get out there, so let's go." he answered, still eyeing the moonlit night wearily. "Potter!" he barked, "Get your broom ready. You and Granger are with me, with Lupin and Tonks" he said Tonks a little more loudly, getting her attention from changing her face in front of Dudley, who was now a shade of luminous green, "Will be circling around. If anything happens, you carry on flying towards the Burrow, understand?"

"Yes, but - "

"No buts, Potter. You carry on flying and don't look back, you hear me?"

"Yes, Professor" Harry said, a little put off by the paranoid Auror. Still, anything could happen now that Dumbledore was gone, he thought, and a sudden chill ran down his spine. He made sure his wand was tucked firmly away in his pocket, but easy enough to grab should he need to. Moody only grumbled beneath his breath in reply. "Was never your professor in the first place."

Having all picked up their broomsticks, Tonks jealously eyeing Harry's Firebolt and Hermione's hands gripping her own a little too tightly, sending her knuckles the same colour white as her face, Harry pocketed his trunk and Hermione took Hedwig's cage. Stepping out into the back garden, the cold night's air did nothing to ease Harry's worry after the grizzled Auror's mood-numbing speech.

"On the count of 3," Lupin said, now eyeing the sky just as Moody had previously done. "1...2...3" and on the final digit, all five of them shot up into the sky.

Moody took the lead, his magical eye enhanced to see through the darkness, as Hermione took to Harry's right side. Tonks and Lupin were now out of sight, keeping to the cloud's for cover. The wind whipped at Harry's face and his knuckles were now turning a painful shade of pink. Hermione was already beginning to shake from the cold. They kept going higher and higher, finally bursting through the layering of clouds into the stat-stricken sky. Harry thought it was beautiful night if not for the gut-ridden worry of his friends.

They had been travelling for what felt like forever until Hermione shouted out, shakingly gripping her broomstick while pointing directly ahead. "Look!" she half-whispered out of fear and half-shouted out of worry, and directly ahead was a conglomeration of shadows streaking closer towards them. "Keep low and keep flying!" Moody shouted, already aware of their presence. They both leaned closer to their broom's handles, and one of Harry's hands managed to find it's way to his pocket, grabbing the handle of his wand. But as quickly as the shadows had appeared, they split off in two directions either side of them. Moody's head was spinning quicker than his magical eye, turning from one side to the other. A brilliant flash of green lit up the the sky not far ahead of them, quickly followed by a red flash and gold sparks exploded above them. "No!" Harry shouted, though they were travelling so fast he didn't think anyone head him.

"That's the signal," Moody shouted, his head still spinning either side. "Death Eaters are here. Potter, you and Granger keep flying. Don't stop, don't look, don't think; just keep flying!"

Harry would of nodded if it didn't feel like his neck was frozen to his shoulders. He chanced a glance at Hermione beside him, who caught his eye with a determined pair of her own. Suddenly a jet of red light streaked past her head, missing her by inches, as they both craned their head's as far back as they could; no more than four Death Eaters were following them, their silver masks shining in the moonlight. Both Harry and Hermione pulled their wands out and aimed behind them, but before they could summon a spell two figures broke out of the clouds below and shot up.

"Stupefy!" they both shouted simultaneously, and one of the spells managed to hit a Death Eater directly on the chest as he tumbled downwards, but the other managed to swerve out of the way. "Didn't think we'd miss this party, did ya, Harry?" one of the figures shouted, and Harry immediately knew it to be the Weasley twins. A Death Eater managed to break through as they battled the others, sending a nasty looking curse straight towards Moody ahead. Without turning around a circular white shield covered his back, deflecting the spell as the shield shuddered on impact. "Incarcerous!" Hermione called out, and the Death Eater only managed to swerve out of the rope's way before Harry screamed "Stupefy!" A red light engulfed him as Harry's spell connected with his face, and he limply fell beneath the clouds. Harry breathed a sigh of relief before turning around. His scar exploded in agonising pain, and a scream that didn't seem to be his own escaped his mouth. He suddenly found he was looking at himself, Hermione and Moody, and a sickening laugh escaped his lips.

"Harry!" he heard someone shout, but he didn't care. All he wanted to was to get closer to them, to hurt them, to ki - "Harry, what's wrong?!" the same person shouted again, and he suddenly found himself staring at the handle of his broom. He looked over to Hermione's face which was stricken with worry. "Voldemort," he said through gritted teeth, the pain still thumping in his head. "He's here." Hermione's eyes widened in fear, but she didn't say anything in return.

"Leave him to the rest of us! Just keep flying!" shouted Moody ahead, casting various spells in every direction, seemingly at nothing. Harry quickly wondered whether he was Confunded.

"Forget the others!" came a high pitched scream, forcing it's way in every direction. "Just get Potter! The others don't matter!" and upon their orders from who can only be Lord Voldemort, the remaining Death Eaters appeared as if out of nowhere, casting an endless barrage of spells in their direction. They all swerved and dipped out of the way with great haste, but Harry had kept a watchful eye on Hermione. He knew she hated flying since their first flying lesson way back in their 1st year, and so he was almost as protective as she was against the Dursleys. No time to get nostalgic, he chastised himself, and cast a Confringo spell at the nearest Death Eater, who narrowly avoided the explosive hex with singed robes.

Tonks, Lupin, Fred and George had all joined the group upon noticing the scattering Death Eaters, and they all suddenly found themselves in the heat of a major battle. The next few moments for Harry, though, were a blur of flashing lights and indescribable pain. Voldemort had finally reached them, gliding on nothing but the cool night air with a sadistic glee that only invigorated the remaining Death Eaters. The noise of the battle drowned out for Harry, and his emerald green eyes met the scarlet snake-like eyes of Voldemort, before a flash of green light erupted from his wand, and Harry hurtled into darkness.

A/N - Gasp! I left you all on a cliffhanger. But come on. Our favourite little bespectacled hero wouldn't really have died in the first chapter, would he...? Anyway, review and rate if you like, or just criticise. This is techncially my first fanfic (I wrote 1 chapter 3 years ago).