AN: Replies after this post ... I'm sorry I got distracted with Whooping Love I'm still going to keep updating it and I've started on the Christmas fic, while thinking/plotting my Nanowrimo idea in my head. Writing anything down would be cheating I think ... unless it doesn't count towards the word count but really with everything else I'm writing I don't have the time Thank you all for sticking with this story ... here goes everything!

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Chapter: So, take a look at me now, well there’s just an empty space, and there’s nothing left here to remind me just the memory of your face …

It was a dismal day.

The skies above the city were painted every shade of gray imaginable with just enough white to create contrast, it threatened to rain, but whether out of stubbornness or the general lethargy that seemed to permeate the air, the clouds would not let fall a drop of precipitation. The wind, blowing chilly, bit with a cold that had arrived early for the year; summer was not officially gone though you would not have known it to look at the weather.

Everyone seemed in a surly mood. Despite spending the whole summer at the Burrow, Harry did not feel at all well or happy, however much he would miss the place. Neither did Hermione or Ron. Mrs. Weasley looked like a mother hen tending her brood, she did not want to be parted from any of her family for any length of time and the prospect of sending her two youngest back to Hogwarts with what had happened before and throughout the summer showed clearly in the lines of worry on her face. Bill and Fleur were the only ones who looked normal and even remotely happy to be anywhere but they were so busy sneaking glances at each other and holding hands and kissing that it seemed surreal, as if they were muggles lost in the wizarding world completely unaware of the dark days surrounding them.

The ministry had sent cars and aurors despite Harry’s initial refusal. Rufus Scrimgeour would hear none of it. Perhaps because of this and a few other discussions they had had over the summer Harry felt the ministry, Scrimgeours’ Ministry, were his enemies even though they shared a common foe.

In the end Harry only relented because of his fear of the Weasley’s being targeted after the incident in the café. Scrimgeour had taken it as the first of what he hoped would be many more victories to come on that front.

The fact remained, Voldemort had it out for Harry Potter. The boy had gotten a howler that revealed as much before exploding and almost destroying the Burrow. The exploding missive had been followed in the weeks after with attacks targeting Harry’s friends, a case of Voldemort clearly taunting him to come out and fight. Tonks and Shacklebolt had had to answer ministry calls to false attacks and burglaries only to be ambushed by large squads of Death Eaters. It had happened three times over the course of the summer. Lupin had gone missing along with that boy Nicholas, no word on either of them. Harry still did not believe the boy to be Sirius’ son but was he a Death Eater? Things were bleak.

Now school was resuming and Harry did not feel like Hogwarts was still the bastion of safety that it had been before.

The only thing that had been Harry’s joy was Professor Dumbledore’s new openness where before he had been so secretive about what to reveal to Harry, thinking him too young. Over the course of the summer Dumbledore had taken the boy aside to give him private lessons. It was during these lessons in both magic and recent magical history that Harry came to understand his enemy, who Tom Riddle had been.

Still, something had changed with everyone since the attack … summers usually spent together playing quidditch matches behind the house, or swimming on the lake had given way to house patrols and curfews and those things that made summer so lovely had been fewer and more awkward than ever. Harry had retreated into himself taking the blame for the events at the café and secretly lying awake nights plotting his vengeance against Bellatrix Lestrange; he had never forgiven her for taking Sirius from him, the fact that she was responsible for Hermione‘s torture and Ron‘s only made him more thirsty for vengeance.

It was in this mindset that Harry arrived in London. He sat quietly in the middle of the car, he was not allowed a window seat for fear of snipers, staring straight ahead at what was coming. He could see nothing. The cars arrived at Kings Crossing and as Harry stepped out onto the sidewalk all he could think about was how much he wanted to run away from everyone. He was the one Voldemort was after. No one else need be in any danger.

“Well, we’re here,” Mrs. Weasley said, what everyone knew she had really meant was that they had arrived safely but that last word, while often thought, was no longer spoken.

“I guess,” Harry said, smiling weakly. In seconds, he was flanked by men in black robes wearing sunglasses and magic white earphones. Harry almost laughed. If the Minister of Magic had been trying for subtlety he had sorely failed. But Harry knew that Scrimgeour was no fool, even as another realization dawned, the aurors were not simply protecting Harry they were also using him as bait to lure Voldemort out.

“Bleeding coward,” Harry said aloud as he realized what had been going on. They were using him, and the Weasleys and Hermione by association, as the most enticing bait, like setting French cheese on a trap to attract a connoisseur mouse.

“I’m sorry dear, what?” Mrs. Weasley asked hurried and worried by what she had not heard.

“Harry is everything all right?” Hermione asked noticing her best mates sudden reaction.

“Fine.” He said coldly, “Everything is fine and dandy.” Hermione recognized his attitude from the year before, arrogance, petulance, and an unquestionable self assurance in the unfailing nature of his actions. It worried her. “When I’m not being a target for madmen I’m playing bait for the ministry.” Harry took Hedwig’s cage in spite of the aurors offering to take the cage and he made his way into the train station causing his personal guard to run after him.

Ron gave Hermione a puzzled look then Hermione offered to explain what had just happened. Everyone else had not made the connection as well, except Mr. Weasley whose face seemed to say to Hermione, “I told them this would not be a good idea. Now it’s gone and blown up in our faces.”


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