SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1D/C: I don't own anything.

A/N: I've been feeling like I ought write something depressing, so here goes nothing. This is the sequel to Family Portrait. Don't worry, folks!  I'm also working on Continuation.  It's just that I've been busy...With SNOW!!!  Ten fricken inches of it! Where I live, we don't get much of it, so I've been enjoying myself! :) Please enjoy this. Though you should be warned: it is going to be very, very dark and quite depressing.  Don't say I didn't warn you!

The Amythis Charm

Chapter One: The Fleet of the Dursleys

Jakia

"Coincidence is fate working over time."

            Harry stood there, stiff as a board.  He leaned silently against the wall of one of the many hallways in Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  He had been there for many, many hours now, and he felt his patience literally wearing down. 

            He had warned them.  He had warned them, not once, not twice, but three times he had warned them.  He knew the Dursleys safe haven on Privet Drive would not last forever.  In fact, the safety of the home had been wearing down greatly since Harry's fourth year, directly after the Triwizard tournament. Small things like that you begin to notice.  Like magical things happening out of the blue, especially in a home where magic was forbidden and the only one able to do magic would have been expelled if he had used any.  The magical barriers, that for sixteen years straight, had protected the Dursleys of Number Four Privet drive from any form of magic, other than Harry, of course, were soon completely worthless.

            Why had no one listened when he told them? He had said very clearly in his letter to Professor Dumbledore that he was quite sure the magical boundaries that surrounded the house were now old, warn out, and that anyone could come.  Harry could, as he had done before, predicted that as soon as the wards surrounding the house were destroyed completely, simply by age, that nothing would stop Death Eaters from swarming Privet Drive.  Because Dumbledore had not listened to Harry, two muggles were now dead, and two boys were now orphaned. Or at least, more orphaned than before.  Harry had no real bond with the Dursleys, so their death was as nothing to him.

            It had all happened so fast.  It was so simple, and yet, at the same time, it was so complex.  The day had began as normal, or what you could call normal for Privet Drive.  It had been Harry's sixteenth birthday, and as usual, the Dursleys did not even recognize it.  Harry did, though, because he spent the majority of the day in his room, admiring his gifts from his friends.  If he hadn't, perhaps he would have noticed the particularly dark aroma that surrounded the outside remainder of the house. Perhaps if he hadn't been too preoccupied with himself and his room, then perhaps he would have noticed the magical wards as they began to go off, slowly being taken off by Death Eaters far away.  A strong ward would have been able to defend itself, but the wards that had been surrounding Privet Drive were weak with age. Perhaps he wouldn't have noticed at all, you can't judge someone on what would have been. 

            It was ingenious, really.  To be able to track down a single boy from all of the rest of the world.  To be able to find him in the most common, most muggle-filled street in all of London.  To be able him, Harry James Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Hero, on Privet Drive was almost unimaginable.  But yet the Death Eaters found him.

            Around noon on July the 30th, the Death Eaters attacked.  They killed Mr. And Mrs. Dursleys first, before tracking down the one they sought to kill.  Harry only barely escaped, and he wouldn't have, if it hadn't had been for the Sneakoscope Ron had bought him in their third year for a present.  The blasted thing, laying there in an old pair of socks, went off just as the Death Eaters arrived.  That triggered Harry, and he got out.  To his misfortune, so did Dudley.  But Dudley was going to live with Aunt Marge, where as Harry was still waiting for that to be decided.

            It upset Harry terribly that he was forced to wait outside, while inside Professor Dumbledore and Mr. Fudge debated fiercely on where Harry was to go now.  It upset him even more to know that he would not have a choice in the matter.  He was sixteen for crying out loud! A year or two older and they would expect him to live on his own. He just hoped Dumbledore didn't find any other horrid muggle relatives for Harry to live with.

            Over the past few years, Harry had grown.  Not just physically, but maturely.  He had grown to accept his destiny as the wizarding worlds hero, not just an average teenager.  He had also grown quite mischievous, but that was clearly Fred and George Weasley's fault.  They wanted to be damn sure that after they left Hogwarts, there would be someone there to take the Marauders, who Fred and George admired so much, place. The taught Harry and Ron everything they knew about Hogwarts, giving them detailed maps and clues at where's where, at what's there.  They could have written Hogwarts, a History.   And well, with that much information, no one is going to put it to waste. Even Hermione used the valued information from time to time. Fred and George even sent Harry and Ron some stuff from their shop for free, to let them 'experiment' for them new products.  Needless to say, Harry and Ron had lived to their forefathers.  Why, even Sirius had began calling Harry PJ, standing for Prongs Junior, and calling Ron PS, Padfoot's Successor.  In spite of it all, it made Harry wonder what his grandfather, Richard, would have said.  In his spirit, Harry knew he would have been proud too.

            After three hours and forty five minutes of waiting, the door to Dumbledore's office opened lightly.  There stood Mr. Fudge, accompanied by Professor Dumbledore.  Mr. Fudge saw Harry standing lightly against the wall.  He shook his hand gently.

            "So, have you figured out where I am to stay?" Harry asked, assuming that's what they had spent the past three hours discussing.  Mr. Fudge raised his eyebrow.

            "My dear boy, we haven't spent this time discussing that!  Well, that was our original objective, of course, but other...pressing matters came up.  Besides, Dumbledore seems to want your opinion as well." Mr. Fudge put on his pinstriped cloak, shaking Dumbledore's hand once more. Harry's heart lightened.  Perhaps this might not be so bad.

            "I trust your judgement, Dumbledore.  I just hope you realize what we're in for." And with a matter of seconds, Mr. Fudge was gone.  Professor Dumbledore smiled, and then turned his attention to Harry.

            "A good man, Mr. Fudge is, Harry.  He'd be a great minister, if only he would open up his eyes." Professor Dumbledore sighed lightly.  He pulled a small package out of his cloak, handing it to Harry.

            "Keep this Harry.  Your Grandfather wanted to give it to you, but he passed away before he could."  Harry held the small, brown package in his hand lightly.  Rather than opening it, he pocketed it.  Professor Dumbledore smiled.

            "Come into my office, Harry, and we shall discuss where you shall live..."

**

            "First things first, Harry.  Where would you like to live?"  Professor said, gesturing Harry to take a seat in his office. Harry did so, trying his best to be polite.

            "That's obvious.  The Weasleys." Harry said, already knowing the answer to the question.  Professor Dumbledore shook his head.

            "I'm not saying that the Weasleys are not good people, but they are too well known.  It would take hardly nothing for a Death Eater to track you down if you lived there at all times.  Any one else in mind? The Grangers, perhaps?" Professor Dumbledore suggested. 

            "No offense, Professor, but I don't think Hermione's dad would fancy a boy come live with his daughter." Harry knew good and that Mr. Granger was far too over-protective of his daughter, for he had refused when Harry and Ron tried to come visit Hermione last summer. It was no offensive of Hermione, of course. 

            "Any other ideas?" Dumbledore asked, a little desperately.  Harry rattled his brain for ideas, and then answered plainly.

            "Sirius?" He said, referring to his godfather.  Professor Dumbledore's face went into shock.

            "You haven't heard the news, have you, Harry? Someone at the Ministry tipped them off.  Someone told them that Sirius was living with Remus.  He's on the run..." Oh gee, that was real great.  His godfather could have been well on his way to Azkaban and no one bothered to tell him? He could have hit something.  Dumbledore, however, had something else planned.

            "I know where you can go, Harry.  You can stay with Remus.  He's having to go through this big ordeal with the Ministry about Sirius, and he could sure use the company.  It would work out perfectly...Unless, of course, you don't want to stay with Remus?" Harry sighed.  There wasn't much else of a choice, was there? Lupin, or possibly Snape.  Harry could imagine Snape's face if Professor Dumbledore told him he was going to live with him.  Harry shook his head lightly.

            "Why not?"

(End Chapter)

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