A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or any of his storymates. (Is that even a word? O.o /shrug/) This story is rated T just for safety. It contains harsh violence and language, so don't walk up to me with your lawyer 5 years from now, claiming you read my story and became severaly traumatized, because, after all, I did warn you. Reviews are always appreciated after you finish. This is one of those make-it-up-as-you-go-along stories, so it should be fun! Thanks so much to all of your support. This story will be updated quite frequently now. Keep checking back for updates!
And here it is! Chapter 1: Eerie Shadows.
"Just go, dear. Please," Molly Weasley whispered desperately to the raven-haired boy next to her. She was shaking uncontrollably as the two crouched under the small kitchen table. Their eyes darted all around them as the low ceiling above them fell down in pieces, threatening to bury them alive. A low rumble shook the small house, causing some dishes to fall and shatter. Even given the circumstances, the woman couldn't hold back a "Now, really!" as her favorite piece of china plummeted to the floor. Many of the shards flew at the two, cutting them.
Paying no attention to the minor cuts, the teenage boy squinted through the debris best he could to find a safe exit. He crawled a few inches out from under the table, but was quickly yanked back by the woman when a piece of plaster as big as him and twice as thick hit the spot on the floor where he would have been. Muttering his thanks, he continued to search for a safe passage. His infamous lightning bolt scar was pounding profusely. Trouble was just outside of the house, and he felt that he would meet it at any moment.
A second tremor quaked through the house, and a large crack made its way through the wooden floor, almost reaching the small table that the two were crouched under. The roar that the movement made set Mrs. Weasley off like an alarm, making her wail in fear for their lives.
'At least she's not crying over her damn china anymore,' Harry couldn't help but smirk.
Yet another quake coursed through the small burrow, followed by Mrs. Weasley's cries and a blinding red light that lit up the whole room. As if by instinct, Harry whipped out his wand from his back pocket, ready to curse any intruder into oblivion. His attention stuck to the font door. Charms and wards the only things now holding it up. The door was illuminated by the red light, growing brighter as moments passed. It looked to be under extreme heat pressure, as the door grew brighter shades of red, and started to whistle. Unable to take anymore pressure, the door exploded into thousands of splinters, adding to the collection of cuts the two already had.
All of a sudden, everything became still. The quaking ceased, and the last of the weak ceiling pieces fell to the floor, causing clouds of dust to puff up into the air. Coughing, Harry waved his hand to clear of the dust, blinking all he could out of his eyes.
Mrs. Weasley, beside him, started to shiver. He assumed it was from crying, but when he turned his head back towards the door, his thoughts were otherwise. The doorway was clear. Harry could see the starlit sky outside, and he, too, began shivering as the cool night air drifted in with an eerie chill.
Although the movements shaking the house had stopped, Harry could still feel them coursing through his bones. He began to feel lightheaded. Taking care not to make himself even more dizzy, Harry slowly craned his neck to his left and opened his eyes.
A cloaked head with a white mask covering its face was inches from Harry's nose. It smiled and said in a deep voice, "Hello, Harry."
Harry gasped and scrambled away from the figure, only to knock into a pair of legs behind him, also covered by a long black cloak.
Harry tripped on himself as he stood up. He jerked his head in all directions, only to find that his enemies surrounded him. Death Eaters.
He could feel his heart beating in his throat. He turned in circles, trying to get a glimpse of each one. There had to be at least twenty Death Eaters, all smiling and staring at him. That meant there were at least twenty black wands, pointed straight at his heart.
Harry spotted a mass of red hair behind the circle of smirking Death Eaters, and that alone made him act. Like a madman, he charged toward the red hair, attempting to break through anything in his path, but when he hit the chain of Voldemort's followers, he was pushed with great force back onto the ground in the middle of the ring. The back of his head rammed into the wooden floor, and lights burst into his eyes. Something heavy landed on his stomach, making him grunt; the breath got knocked out of him.
He opened his eyes in slits to find Molly Weasley sprawled on top of him, sobbing and spilling tears onto his shirt. The Death Eaters surrounding them laughed at the sight. This infuriated Harry, but he said nothing. Harry slowly sat up, taking care to help Mrs. Weasley sit up as well. The Death Eaters laughed even harder.
"Imbeciles," Harry muttered as he got to his feet, and lifted Mrs. Weasley onto hers, too. Making sure she had her ground, Harry straightened his posture best he could, as his knees could barely support his weight now. He stared at a clump of Death Eaters in concentration, scanning his mind for a spell that would knock them all out at once.
Suddenly Mrs. Weasley beside him collapsed to the floor and started crying again. "Look! The blood traitor can't even stand up!" one voice called from the crowd. This triggered another round of snickers from the Death Eaters. Harry, now completely vexed, kneeled on the floor next to the woman. He rubbed her back, trying his best to comfort her. He couldn't find any words to help her feel better, be he hadn't needed to, as she whispered as quiet as the night, "H-He said this would happen."
His attention was now totally drawn to the worn woman,. Harry breathed back curiously, "Who said this would happen?"
Mrs. Weasley shook her head frantically as if the question frightened her. She screwed her eyes shut and gulped, before replying, "He s-said that you would," then she paused. Her eyes grew wide, looking like they would pop out of her head. "Don't do it! Oh, Harry!"
She grabbed both of his forearms, squeezing them as hard as she could, as if her life depended on it. Harry winced at the sharp pain, and dreaded giving the reply he knew he had to give.
"M-Mrs. Weasley we-"
"P-please Harry, d-don't!" Mrs. Weasley choked out, digging her nails deep into his arms.
"Mrs. Weasley," Harry whispered, trying to control his shivering. "W-We knew this day had to come eventually- we've already discussed it. You know I love you like a mother, and your whole family as my own."
Tears started to cloud up his eyes, but he blinked them away impatiently. His voice started to break as he whispered in Molly's ear, "Please believe me when I say that if I had a choice, I would have never gone through with this. If I could, I would choose to be a normal carefree kid, and actually live a life, instead of the hell this scar has given me," Harry paused as if to think about what he had just said. He whispered so quietly he could barely hear himself, "That's what I dream of every day. To be a real kid. I would have my parents, S-Sirius, a younger brother or sister; and not have to dream about death, attacks, torture, murder, or The Great Tom Riddle every night."
Feeling anger color his face, Harry forced his temper down once again, and felt suddenly limited of time. He continued, slightly louder and less emotional, "Please get yourself out of here. Don't think I'm trying to be noble, just go. I'm going to hand myself over to these bastards, and they will take me to Voldemort. Mrs. Weasley, please!"
The woman leaped at him and embraced him in a tight hug; she squeezed him hard as if he would disappear into the air any second.
"P-Please, remember," Harry continued, choking on his own words, bringing his eyes slowly up to look at the Death Eaters, then back to the scar on his hand that read 'I will not tell lies', and rubbed it gently. "Re-Remember that I love you, and no matter what happens, even if the light dies out, there will always be hope. Keep fighting, even if there's no hope to fight for. That's how I made it this far."
He attempted a smirk, but when he turned his attention back to the woman next to him, he saw that her face was swollen with tears. Her eyes drifted to the floor and the light died out within them. Harry's smirk died away. He squeezed both of Mrs. Weasley's hands one last time, before shakily standing up and regaining his balance. As he lifted his head to face his enemies, a voice growled in his mind asking why the hell he hadn't escaped with Ron and Ginny.
A/N: There you go! I realize that I wrote the first 3 chapters quite a bit back, but I'm currently going through each one and editing them, as my writing style has changed quite a bit since then. Reviews, comments, and constructive criticism are always welcome :D Thanks for reading! Keep checking back for more updates!