“How many times have I told you not to mock the Dark Lord?”

“A few dozen.”

“Have you ever listened?”

“Of course, I just didn’t obey.”

-Conversation between Harry Potter and Severus Snape

The screams echoed around the pitch, piercing every ear and leading Harry to wonder if the crowd had been as insufferable when he played. He hovered on his Firebolt, swathed in his father’s cloak a hundred feet higher than he had ever flown during a game. Ginny was far below him, idly searching for the Snitch, and Draco was at the opposite side of the field.

The blonde was the reason Harry was in attendance. Despite being spelled to secrecy, he was able to tell Harry that, “the Quidditch game would be more interesting than normal, perhaps even worth his attention.” So, Harry was here, floating above the game, apathetic and thoroughly bored. He had found the snitch within fifteen minutes and it had floated with him for more than half an hour, yet neither seeker had given any sign of having located the ball.

Classes had resumed a month earlier, but Harry only attended a handful of them; Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Potions and Transfiguration. The rest he only visited long enough to turn in lengthy essays. His teachers were terrified of him. The students were nearly petrified whenever he entered a room. He had read nearly the entire restricted section, and could do almost any spell wandlessly, though they still exhausted him. Each evening a series of owls would deliver a series of notes detailing what had been learned that day. It was often trivial nothings, information which he could not put a purpose to, but his several informants were talented, and they remembered nearly everything they saw each day. He received a copy of all of it, which he sorted into a shrunken cabinet that he kept with him at all times. No one had identified the mysterious new fighter, and she had grown darker in the interim.

Harry dreaded finding her handiwork on his nightly excursions. It was evident that she took a certain joy in her work. The tattered remains screamed her amusement.

Harry shook off the thought of his nightly terror, and concentrated on the game. Whatever was about to happen would be student instigated, and he continued to watch both crowd and players. An ephemeral instinct flashed in his mind and he turned to the Gryffindor goal posts. Ron was high above the goals, shouting an order to the beaters, and paying no attention to anything else.

Soundless and invisible, Harry began to drift closer.

A wisp of magic shot from an unknown member of the crowd, and Harry moved without thought. Still a hundred feet above his former friend, he began his drop as Ron went unconscious and fell from his broom. Even as they had in Harry’s third year, the crowd gasped, and rose to watch the catastrophe.

Harry’s cloak flew off his shoulders, whipping about in the air, but he left it far behind him as he raced to catch the keeper. Screams of terror erupted as Harry’s trademark outfit was recognized. His Firebolt was moving faster than he had known it was capable of when he hit Ron in the stomach. The added weight changed Harry’s balance and he tumbled through the air. One arm caught the handle of his broomstick, and the other remained locked around the unconscious red head. His arm dislocated as his broom abruptly halted. Releasing his grasp, he dropped the last few feet to the pitch, landing beside Ron.

Ginny was shooting towards him, hands out reached as if to strangle him. She pulled up at the last second, snitch in hand; perfectly reminiscent of his most spectacular saves. She landed, dropped the snitch and collapsed at her brother’s side, sobbing loudly.

Harry replaced his shoulder with a grimace, summoned his cloak and broom, nodded to the professors, who were openly gaping, and said, “You really must be more careful at these events. We wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

A moment later he was gone.

>=====<

Two weeks later, five packages appeared with quiet pops beside their intended finders. A moment later five notes followed. The six men who read them shuddered at the anger emanating from the ink, and never considered disobeying the instructions they had been given.

>=====<

Harry walked into the large room he had added to the Shrieking Shack, and nodded to his six guests. They had taken seats and helped themselves to the Firewhiskey. He did not waste time with welcoming them, “Three of you spy on Voldemort on my behalf, five of you spy on Dumbledore, and all of you have been consistent in the details of your reports.”

“Hello to you too, Harry.” Draco said.

Harry continued as if no one had spoken. “So, I must ask how none of you found it pertinent that the Death Eaters know the location of the Order’s Headquarters, or that I am three days from being expelled, or that Remus Lupin hasn’t been seen in a month? I consider all three of those to be quite important. Why don’t you? Did you not know? Are you all that useless to me? You all know how I feel about pointlessness.” The six men recoiled. Harry lit the fire with a flick of his wrist and then removed a wand to casually roll between his fingers. “Answer please gentlemen.”

“The Order’s location is unknown. It’s protected Harry, you know that.” Bill placated.
“Is it?”

“Of course. If it was known we would have been attacked already.”

“You have been attacked already.”

The four Weasley’s jerked, but the two Slytherin’s had still given no reaction.

“Harry—”

“I don’t blame you as much, Charlie. You were in Romania, and you’ve only recently joined the Death Eaters, but the rest of you should know that Remus Lupin was attacked—magically—at Headquarters this summer. Severus, you know this as well. I’m not sure why I had not realized earlier, but if he was attacked by magic in a place that is supposedly hidden with the Fidelius charm, then there is a large problem to be addressed.

“I, you see, only realized this last night. It led to several questions. Who attacked him? How did they find the building? Why has it not been attacked again? And most importantly, why did they attack when only Lupin was there?” He looked at them disdainfully, “…I don’t suppose any of you have answers for those.”

“Harry you have to understand,” Bill began, but was quickly interrupted.

“The Fidelius charm keeps others from finding a place, but those who already know its location are unaffected.” Draco said flatly. Harry turned, motioning for him to continue. “Bellatrix Lestrange was a Black cousin; she had visited the house previously. She could find it again.”

“Why did they attack when they did?”

“We did not know that it was Headquarters. I know now, but still cannot do anything to find it myself. We suspected that the Werewolf would be there. Black had likely left it to him, or at least let him stay there. The team that was sent, Bellatrix, Rodolphous and Rabstaban, knew the location, and were trying to hurt you indirectly, lead you into the open so they could attack you. Lupin was a stepping stone, nothing more.”

Harry nodded, and continued.

“What about Lupin then? Where is he?” His six informants looked at him blankly. “None of you know?” A pang of fear hit Harry. Lupin had betrayed him, but was still his Father’s and Sirius’ friend, and he felt a compulsion to help the lycanthrope. “Find him then. When you do, inform me.”

He opened his mouth to interrogate his spies on the status of his imminent expulsion when a flash in his mind broke his concentration. He convulsed, resisting the need to vomit, and forced himself back to control. “Prevent my expulsion.” He said strangely. He blinked and vanished, leaving six men to their theories and their tasks.

Deep within the Forbidden Forest, he reappeared, dropping to his knees with a shout of pure revulsion. His mind was being flooded with hideous images: scenes of suffering and torture. Muggles running and screaming. Witches and Wizards being forced to kill their families. Hogwarts overrun with pain and tears. Hogwarts, fallen. The carnage of the mysterious Death Eater.

Laughter.

Her magic was so familiar he could not identify it.

Hermione and Ron were dying, and the Burrow was flattened.

Harry was wide-eyed, incapable of ending the pain. A fiery knife ripped through his mind, digging for information. “Oh God, Sirius help me.” He suppressed his scream. “Dad, Sirius, please.”

Lord Voldemort had broken through the Occulemency shields he had built so carefully. He slammed new ones in place, and went unconscious.

He fell to his side, alone and undefended in the Forbidden Forest.

>=====<

Dumbledore looked up from his paperwork. “What do you mean he’s missing?”

“I mean that for the last two weeks Harry James Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, and Traitor, has not entered Hogwarts.” Severus said softly.

Professor McGonagall nodded and concurred. “He has not stayed in our dormitories for months, but he has been attending his classes. Most of them, at least. He turns in his assignments and remains proficient in everything we study. Now he has not attended any class for two weeks.”

“Why did you not feel it important to tell me this when he first went absent?”

“He vanishes from time to time. Often several days, but never more than a week. We had all assumed that it was one of his regular vanishing acts, sir.” Minerva said.

“Clearly not. Severus does Voldemort have him?”

“Not that I have heard, and I would have heard.”

“One blessing then.”

“Blessing? Albus, the traitor has gone missing. We don’t know where he is, and if You-Know-Who does not have him, then we have no leads. He could be anywhere, doing anything. He is dangerous. We have to find him immediately, before he can do more damage.” Minerva began to fume.

“Minerva please. You are right in that we have to find him. Alert the Order, we will have to begin a search. Do not let the Ministry or the papers know. Quickly please Minerva.” She rose and left. He turned to Severus and took a deep breath. “There was something else you needed to tell me.”

“Yes sir. I have been sworn to say nothing, so I will not be able to convey as much as you will wish.”

“I understand.”

“An assignment has been given to a particular Death Eater. His loyalty and strength are being tested. It directly pertains to you. I have also been sworn to complete the mission if the original man fails. It pertains to Trelawny’s favorite subject. I can tell you no more;”

Dumbledore nodded. “Very well then. Whatever it is, do not reveal your loyalties, continue to do as you always have. I have to assist Minerva. Thank you for the information.” Severus rose, nodded and left.

He took half a dozen secret passages, and ended in the Slytherin common room. “Mr. Malfoy, I need to speak with you.”

The blonde stepped into the hallway, and accompanied the Potions Master to his office. “Yes sir?”

“What have you learned?”

“I found Lupin, and I’ve begun the second part of my task. I’ve contacted Potter, but I have not heard back.”

“That’s because he’s gone missing.”

Draco immediately shifted, became more intense, more focused. “What do we know?”

“He was last seen at our meeting with him two weeks ago. At that point he had some kind of attack, and abruptly left. The Dark Lord does not have him. Dumbledore has begun to look for him.”

“We have to find him first.”

“Yes we do.”

“How?”

Severus smiled, acknowledging the irony of what he had planned.

>=====<

Lupin dropped the note as he finished reading it. He retrieved it and tossed it into his fire, watching it burn. Harry was missing. Sirius had begged him to defend his Godson, to protect him if anything should happen. Remus had promised, and had failed. Every effort he had put into their detailed plan had come to nothing. Harry was missing, and would probably be found by Voldemort within a few days.

The world was spiraling in on itself, falling, dropping into the darkness.

He summoned his wand, and vanished.