Chapter 1: In which the New Year starts badly

January 1st, 1996, began with a bright but cold morning. The excitement of Christmas had passed and the quiet, rural area around Ottery St. Mary and Ottery St. Catchpole had sleepily ushered in the New Year. In the peculiar house known as The Burrow, all the inhabitants except one were asleep. Molly Weasley, as usual, had woken up early so she could feed the chickens and begin preparing for the coming day – cooking and cleaning for the Weasleys took a lot of organising and an early start was vital. All of her sons had been staying at the Burrow since before Christmas, much to the matriarch's delight, but this also meant nine people to make breakfast for, including herself. It was approximately half past six on New Year's Day when the lives of the Weasley family changed forever.

Molly quietly whistled a Celestina Warbeck tune as she headed out of the kitchen, a bucket of chicken feed swinging from one hand. Her breath hung on the crisp morning air as she walked around the house to the coup that was behind the shed. The remaining inhabitants of the quirky wooden house snored and slumbered on, completely oblivious as thirteen masked and robed Death Eaters activated a Portkey and landed in the Burrow's garden. They were totally unaware of one of the intruders whispering the fatal words of the Avada Kedavra curse, and they were unknowing as their wife and mother fell to the ground, never to breathe again.

"You! Keep the Portkey safe," ordered one Death Eater to another in a menacing whisper. "And, you, get the anti-Apparition ward up." A few minutes later, the Death Eater in charge, spoke again. "Right, spread out, and follow my lead."

The thirteen cloaked invaders stretched out around one side of the wooden house, although one of the group, unseen by the others, hung back towards the trees of the orchard. When all were in position, the leader cast the first spell, with a malicious shout.

"REDUCTO!"

The destructive spell hammered into the side of the building, making an almighty boom as it smacked against the magically protected outer walls. Moments later, the yells of many other spells rang out, each pounding against the walls of the Burrow, progressively weakening the protection.

As soon as the first spell struck the house, the eight remaining Weasleys were awoken with a start. Arthur Weasley's voice rang out throughout the house, rousing his children from their beds.

"WE ARE UNDER ATTACK! GET YOUR WANDS AND GET TO THE KITCHEN NOW! "

Although Ron was the last to arrive, it still took less than a minute for eight red-haired Weasleys, in some state of dress, to be gathered in kitchen of the Burrow, with expressions ranging from grim determination to confusion and fear.

"Now, kids," Arthur spoke loudly above the din caused by spells crashing against the house. "The spells protecting the walls will only hold for a few minutes, under this barrage. We must engage them, draw their fire away from the house, otherwise the whole thing could come down. Ginny, try Flooing for help. I can sense that there are wards preventing Apparition. I figure our best bet is to rush out of the door, and try and surprise them. Keep an eye out for your mother, she could be outside somewhere and need help. Ron, stay with Ginny – look after each other."

The Weasley children looked grave, the twins more serious than anyone had ever seen them before. They had never seen their father take such a commanding air before, but then, he had lived through one war already, and knew what he was doing.

"The Floo is blocked, Dad," Ginny called, as she returned to the group.

"Then we're on our own. We fight for our lives, our future, our Weasley pride. Fight with fire, with passion. We will not be terrorised in our home." Arthur paused to look at each of his children in turn. "I love you all," he said fiercely. "Now, let's do this."

Starting with Arthur, then the others following in age order, the Weasleys burst out through the back door of the Burrow and into the garden, and did indeed catch the Death Eaters by surprise, as many of them were aiming spells at other parts of the house. After only a few minutes, however, they were all penned back against the wall of the house, barricaded to some extent behind some conjured tables. Those few Death Eaters that they had managed to Stun in their opening salvo had been revived, and it was eight defenders fighting for their lives against twelve maniacal aggressors.

Suddenly, Ginny made a dart through the door back into the kitchen, and Ron, on his father's instructions, followed.

"Ginny! What are you doing?"

"Getting help."

"But how? The Floo is blocked."

"I have a way." Before her brother could speak again, Ginny's Phoenix flashed into existence.

"Whoa! How do you...is that a Phoenix?!"

"Yeah. I'll be back in a minute."

"Where are you going?"

"To get Adam." In a blaze of flame, the girl and the bird were gone.

In contrast to Sirius, both Harry and Remus were early risers, and were enjoying their first cup of coffee of the New Year whilst chatting at their kitchen table in the privacy of their cottage in the middle of the 'haunted Devon forest.

"Have you been able to find out anything else about this Shadowfire thing, Moony?"

"I'm sorry, Adam. The Hogwarts library seems to have nothing on it apart from what Hermione found. And Dumbledore only knew about it because he'd read that same book. I don't know if there's anywhere else to look." After the excitement of the Yule Ball, barely a week before, Hermione had shown Harry and Ginny the ancient book, and they had read with accepting horror about the prophecy that seemed to perfectly describe the young couple.

"I guess I'll just have to go and talk to the Centaurs in the Forbidden Forest."

"You can't just wander around the Forest looking for..."

"I won't have to. They'll come to me."

"What?"

"I noticed part way through the term. Whenever Ginny and I went to the clearing, one or two Centaurs would watch us. I'll just have to wait until they turn up and then call them out."

"But what if they…?" Remus sentence was interrupted by the dramatic blazing entrance of Ginny and her Phoenix.

"Ginny? What are you…?" Harry began saying but Ginny cut him off.

"Death Eaters are attacking the Burrow. We need help. The Floo's been blocked and Dad said there are anti-Apparition wards up."

"I'll get Sirius and alert Dumbledore," Remus said at once.

"Ginny, take us back there," Harry commanded, as he took a firm hold of his girlfriend's hand. Without a moment's hesitation, the young couple and the bird disappeared in a flash of black-tinged flame.

"Be safe," whispered Remus to the spot his ward had just disappeared from. After a second's pause, the werewolf yelled in the direction of the bedrooms. "PADFOOT! GET UP NOW!"

The Phoenix brought Harry and Ginny to one end of the Burrow's garden – where the ramshackle gate led to the driveway and the village beyond. The twelve attacking Death Eaters were all still sending wave after wave of curses at the small group that huddled valiantly behind makeshift and conjured defences, close to the Burrow's kitchen door.

Even from this distance, Harry could see that seven Weasleys were fighting from behind the tiny barricade, although each of them seemed to be hurt to some degree. Arthur had blood covering most of his face, and Charlie had one arm out of commission.

Remembering the anger that he had felt less than two weeks before, when Voldemort appeared in Diagon Alley, throwing the name "Harry Potter" around, Harry snapped into action and began striding purposefully towards the nearest Death Eater. Ginny matched his stride, fuelled by the love for her family and fury that these sycophants dared to attack her home. As they closed on the cloaked and masked wizard, each knew what they had to do. After weeks of practice in the Room of Requirements, Harry and Ginny could combine their instinctive magic with ease. When their first target finally noticed the two hunters approaching him, it was already too late. A huge jet of black-tinged fire was screaming towards him. In under a second, the hapless victim was a charred mess on the ground.

The dead Death Eater's brief scream of horror alerted his comrades to the presence of Harry and Ginny, and several of them turned their attentions away from the house and onto the approaching teens. Harry's shadow shielded the young pair from the Death Eaters' spells until they were close enough to attack again.

In barely a few minutes, Harry and Ginny had worked their way down the entire line of Death Eaters, leaving twelve charred and smoking bodies scarring the ground. When it had become clear that they faced a formidable pair of opponents, the last few of Voldemort's soldiers tried to escape, but were caught out by their own anti-Apparition ward and the fact that the one of them holding the Portkey was hiding in the trees of the orchard which left them trapped within the range of the pair's lethal fire, and soon met their demise. The disgusting stench of burning flesh filled the air, and Ginny Weasley's delicate constitution couldn't cope, causing her to turn away and retch. She wasn't the only one – after staggering back through the trees, the thirteenth Death Eater was also paling at the gruesome sight and smell of his roasted comrades. The man's stomach heaved, and he couldn't help the cough that escaped his lips.

"Get back to the house," commanded Harry, as he hauled Ginny to her feet. "Help your family. I'll search the trees."

"But what if…?" Ginny's question was cut off by a heart-rending, agonised scream. Not a scream of pain, but one of anguish, of the utmost despair.

"Go! Go to your family. GO!"

Ginny set off at a run towards the source of the chilling cry. Harry stalked like the hunter he was into the shadows of the apple trees, where he all but disappeared from sight.

Ron stood for a moment staring in confusion at the space from where his sister had just disappeared in a flash of fire. A Phoenix? Dumbledore supposedly had a Phoenix but how could she have…? His thoughts were cut short by the crashing sound of a Reducto thudding into the upper floors of the house, reminding him of the situation outside. Quickly, the youngest Weasley male darted back out of the kitchen door and ducked behind the hastily conjured, but rapidly dwindling, barricade and dropped down next to his father.

"Where's Ginny? I told you to…"

"She's gone for help," Ron shouted back, above the din of the battle.

"How?"

"She called a Phoenix."

"What?" called Bill, who had heard his brother's answer. His distraction was short lived as a jet of purple light missed his left ear by centimetres and hurtled into the wooden wall behind them.

Arthur, who was also surprised by his youngest son's reply, saw his eldest nearly take the fatal curse in the face, and began to admonish Ron.

"This is no time for…"

"Look!" Ron cried, ignoring his father and pointing across the yard to the end of the gated driveway.

Across the garden stood Ginny, and looking towards them was an exceedingly grim-faced Adam Black. The Weasley males could only stare with mingled shock, relief and horror as the duo systematically incinerated the twelve cloaked and masked intruders who were attacking their home. As the reality struck, and Arthur saw his daughter double over to be sick, his composure returned enough to give a command to his sons.

"Go and find your mother."

As the middle-aged man wiped at his bloodied face, the six young men – even Charlie whose arm was hanging limply by his side – scurried off around the Burrow. Barely a few seconds later he heard a sound that made his blood run cold. It was the sound of a heart-rending, agonised scream. Not the scream of pain, but one of anguish, of the utmost despair.

Percy Weasley had fought as hard and as valiantly as any of his brothers. He may have been a bookworm, a stickler for the rules, a perfect Prefect and big-Head Boy, but Percy Weasley was also a very, very talented wizard. His O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. scores were among the highest ever recorded at Hogwarts, and it must be remembered that half of the grade in most subjects came from practical application. Percy Weasley was not a Gryffindor by mistake, he was no coward. For all his haughtiness and pompous ways, this young man valued his family highly, and would protect it with everything he had. Maybe it was hidden away behind his fastidious nature, but the third Weasley sibling was undoubtedly the most passionate, the most emotional. Maybe it was coincidence, or maybe a cruel twist of fate, but it was Percy Weasley who found the cold, lifeless body of his mother, lying motionless on the cold earth, the basket of grain still clutched in between her fingers.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Percy's cry rang out through the cold winter's morning when he saw her. The distraught man collapsed by the side of his fallen mother, and clutched her body to him. He threw back his head and moaned into the air, willing for it not to be true. One by one, his brothers came upon the scene, and each fell to their knees beside the body of their mother. Ron was disbelieving, and kept whispering and muttering to himself. The twins clung to each other, silent tears pouring down their identical faces. Percy had begun rocking, still clinging to Molly, although his head was now bent and his face was buried in her greying red hair. Charlie was stoic, his face impassive, but beneath the mask he seethed inside, angry at the Death Eaters, at Voldemort, but most of all at fate for robbing them of the family's very core. The eldest son, Bill, looked from brother to brother, before staring into the sky and bellowing his emotions to the heavens in a heartfelt roar. This second harrowing cry tore through the countryside surrounding the ramshackle old wooden house.

Ginny and Arthur both ran towards the source of the first cry, happening on the scene at virtually the same moment. As they saw the huddle, both froze in their tracks for a second. It was Arthur who recovered first, dropping down beside Percy and trying to take his wife out of his son's grasp.

"No, dear God, no," sobbed the man. "Not Molly. Not my sweet Molly."

Ginny stood and watched, paralysed with shock. It was as if the beating heart of the Weasley family had been ripped away, and the rest had simply ceased to function. Each of the surviving eight Weasleys was lost in their own minds. Nothing could have prepared them for this.

Harry's keen, hawk-like eyes quickly scanned through the trees in the orchard, searching for whoever had made the sound. After a few seconds, he saw it; a cloaked figure, squatting at the base of an old apple tree, the sides of its body wider than the gnarled and knotted trunk.

Harry began to approach the figure, stalking his way silently through the long wet grass. Out to each side of him, Harry sent the panther and the wolf, and they flanked around the intruder, so they could come at him from the front.

When Harry reached his desired position, about five yards behind the tree against which the thirteenth Death Eater remained, he commanded the animals to leap out at the person. As he had planned, the man jumped up in surprise and scampered around the tree, only to find him self staring into the steely green eyes of Adam Black.

"I found this, a little way back," said Harry quietly, but with a venomous tone in his voice. "I assume it's yours." The black haired wizard threw a white mask to the ground at Malfoy's feet. The blonde boy momentarily paused for a moment, as if debating whether to pick it up or not, but he didn't want to expose his vulnerable back to his school rival".

"So, Malfoy. Are you going to run, and take your chances against my wolf and panther, or are you going to fight me for your freedom?"

Draco slowly pulled one hand out of his robes; it was holding a length of gold chain. "Or I could use this Portkey." He held the chain in his open palm, unable to stop him self from flaunting it. With a lightening-fast wave of his hand, Harry sent the chain careening off into the trees, where it was picked up by the black falcon.

"You were saying?"

"I guess it's a fight for my freedom then, Black," hissed Malfoy, who quickly snapped up his wand to fire the first curse, which Harry dodged nimbly. In return, Harry sent a small, black ball of swirling magical energy at his opponent, which took the blonde by surprise and smashed into his shoulder, dislocating it and knocking him down.

Harry strode to where Draco Malfoy lay on the wet grass, gasping in pain. Without hesitation, He brought his right foot down onto the other boy's wound, causing him to cry out in agony. As the cry subsided to a whimper, Harry crouched beside his foe.

"Tell me about Voldemort. What are his plans?"

"I…don't…know…" gasped Malfoy.

"You lie!" hissed Harry, and he struck the other boy on the shoulder again. "Tell me what you know!"

The pain was too much for Draco, and he could no longer make his speech intelligible. Harry tried a new tack.

"Look at me!" Harry commanded, but Draco turned his head away, his eyes closed. "Look at me!" he ordered again, but this time as Draco stubbornly refused to obey, Harry's strong hands held his face and pried his eyelids open. The bright green eyes looked deep into the cold grey and Harry was immensely surprised by what he saw in their depths.

"You were forced to take the Mark…you were hiding in the trees…never wanted to be a part of this…"

Malfoy wrenched his head from Harry's vice-like grip. "Get the hell off me, Black."

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

"Pureblood superiority – that I agree with. Kissing the robes of a psycho and being tortured for breathing out of turn I do not. My father had other ideas and forced me into the Dark Lord's service. What could I do when I was picked for this mission? Tell him, "Thanks, but no thanks"? I had no choice. That's why I hid in the trees instead of fighting. I don't know if any of the others noticed…"

"Makes no difference. They're all dead."

"And I'm a dead man walking. If I go back to him alive, he'll kill me anyway."

"Dumbledore will help you."

"That old fool?"

"He's on his way. At least let him take you back to Hogwarts to get that shoulder fixed. He'll protect you; in fact, he probably won't be able to help himself."

"Sure. Whatever."

"Get up! They're here." Harry moved away from Draco, who was still lying on the grass where he fell. The panther and wolf padded silently up to their master, and fell into line beside him.

"They're yours?" asked Draco, as he struggled agonisingly to his feet.

"I'm full of surprises. Now do you see why I kept telling you to keep out of my way?", asked Harry, to which the bonde merely nodded.

The unlikely pair made their way out of the orchard and back towards the old wooden house, although instead of approaching the Weasleys' home, Harry led Draco around the edge of the tree-line towards the gate. Remus, Sirius and Dumbledore were walking hurriedly down the drive.

"How did you know…?" began Draco, but Harry cut him off.

"I have eyes and ears everywhere, Malfoy. Never forget that."

Harry and Draco met the astonished looking group at the Burrow's gate. The three adults were staring with unmasked shock at the garden, which was littered with the Death Eaters' blackened corpses. It was Dumbledore who finally recovered enough to speak.

"What happened here, Mr. Black?"

"Thirteen Death Eaters attacked the Burrow and Ginny came asking us for help. When we got back here, the Death Eaters were bombarding the house, which the other Weasleys were trying to defend. Ginny and I roasted the bastards."

"And Mr. Malfoy?" he asked, noticing the blonde for the first time.

"He's one of the dead Death Eaters, Headmaster. He can explain it to you back at Hogwarts."

"Was anyone hurt in the attack?" Remus asked anxiously.

"I think someone is dead. I don't know who, though," Harry replied solemnly.

"It's the mother," Draco spoke up, his voice a little louder than a whisper.

"Molly?" said Dumbledore, more to himself than anyone else.

"One of those tossers…" Draco jerked the thumb of his left hand over his shoulder towards the twelve blackened corpses. "…fired the Killing Curse at her back."

"Oh my God," cried out Sirius, before he took off towards the house.

Draco stared after his retreating back. "Who was that?" he asked Harry.

"That is Sirius Black, your mother's cousin."

"I thought he was…" Draco trailed off when he saw the look on Harry's face. Whatever he was about to say, Harry guessed it would be a load of nonsense. Surprisingly, Draco understood the meaning of Harry's glare perfectly.

"Remus," said Dumbledore suddenly, breaking out of the reverie he seemed to have been lost in. "Kingsley and Tonks are on their way. Tell them what has happened here. I need to speak with the Minister. This idiocy has to stop. Whatever wards they put up that prevented us Apparating in have fallen. I'll speak with you all later."

The Headmaster was about to turn on his heel and Apparate away when Harry's voice stopped him.

"No!"

"What is it, Adam?" Remus asked.

"Mr. Black?"

"Leave the Minister. Take Malfoy back to Hogwarts and get him to the hospital. He needs protection and you're the only person who can provide him with it."

"But the Minister must be told…"

"He'll be told," said Harry, interrupting the older man. "But right now it's time for action, not politicking. Malfoy's one of these thirteen dead bodies; your task is to make sure no-one suspects otherwise."

"Are you telling me what to do, Mr. Black?"

"Damn right I am, old man," replied Harry, his animalistic temper beginning to surface. "You know about Shadowfire. Are you on my side or in my way?"

Dumbledore looked at the defiant teenager for a second before reaching down to pick up a stick from the ground. A few muttered words and the stick glowed blue; it wouldn't do to side-along Apparate someone with an injured arm. The Headmaster turned to the blonde by his Harry's side. "Come with me, Mr. Smith. Let's get that injured arm sorted out."

With a brief nod at Harry, Dumbledore and Draco Malfoy both touched the stick and disappeared. Without a moment's hesitation, Harry left Remus by the gate and sprinted off towards the Burrow, as quickly as his heightened physical abilities would allow him. Under Sirius' guidance, it appeared that the remaining members of the Weasley family had managed to take Mrs. Weasley's lifeless body inside the house, where she had been laid to rest on her bed. When Harry entered the kitchen through the back door, Mr. Weasley was upstairs with his wife. Sirius was desperately trying to light up the stove so he could boil some water to make tea, while Bill was doing a poor job of comforting a distraught Percy. Charlie and Ron were seated next to each other at the old wooden table that took up most of the room. Mrs. Weasley's old wireless was crackling away in the background; the Wizarding Wireless Network reporter babbling about the Minister and Diagon Alley. Usually, Molly Weasley switched the old radio on before going out to feed the chickens. None of her children had had the heart to turn it off, as if it would be tantamount to switching off their mother's life force.

As Harry's eyes scanned the scene for his beloved Ginny, he found her in a three way hug with the twins, who were as quiet as Harry had ever seen them. Sensing Harry at the door, Ginny broke away from her brothers and moved to speak with him. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy from crying, and tears stained her cheeks. Her bottom lip was trembling, and her voice broke as she spoke.

"Mum's dead."

"I know. I'm so sorry."

"I don't know what to do."

"Just let me hold you for now."

"Thank you, Harry."

In the coming hours, Sirius stood guard at the back door, preventing entry to anyone who wanted to come and speak with the Weasleys in their darkest hour. Remus explained to the Aurors that came the little he knew. By eleven o'clock, the only remaining people on the Burrow's grounds were Remus, Tonks, Moody and Shacklebolt. The bodies of the Death Eaters had been piled into a conjured crate, ready for transportation.

Finally, after several hours spent in silent vigil, Arthur Weasley descended the creaky wooden stairs and entered the once beating heart of the Weasleys' ancient home. A heart once so full of warmth and happiness, that was now cold and solemn. The patriarch embraced each of his children in turn, in order of youngest to oldest, before sitting down at the head of the table. All eyes turn expectantly to look at the man, whose usually jovial face was grave, and red from crying.

"…Wizards and witches of Great Britain, I, Cornelius Fudge, am speaking to you on the first day of the New Year. A year that I believe shall be full of hope, success and peace for the Wizarding World. Thanks to the sterling work of the Ministry of Magic, Death Eater activity is at an all time low, a feat for which I claim full credit, thanks to my…"

Percy Weasley's voice cut through the room, sounding harsher and more ragged than it had ever done.

"Will some one turn that idiot off?"

"I'll get it, Percy," said Sirius, who had quietly remained alongside Harry, near the back door.

"NO!" called Harry suddenly.

"What is it?" Ginny asked.

Harry took a deep breath, before releasing it slowly. "I'm going to have a word with the Minister."

"What are you on about, Adam?" piped up Ron. "You can't just walk up to the Minister of Magic."

Harry paused before he spoke again, looking at each of the Weasleys in turn. "Mr. Weasley, Ron, all of you. I am not really who I say I am. My name is not Adam Black. I apologise for deceiving you all. Please, just keep listening. It is time the world heard the truth for a change." Harry headed out of the door, gesturing for Ginny to follow him.

"I need to use the Phoenix, Gin. It is time for me to reveal myself to the world, and I mean to do it in style."

"Of course, Harry. What should I do?"

"Look after your family. Talk to them – you have the voice of a Phoenix, don't forget. Sing if you have to, but make sure they listen to what I have to say."

"I will." Ginny closed her eyes as Harry wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. There was a flash as the beautiful bird appeared beside them. "I've told her to heed your commands."

"Thank you, my love. I'll be back shortly."

As Harry and the bird vanished in a burst of flame, Ginny went back inside the kitchen, and immediately the chatter of her brothers and father ceased and they regarded her with bated breath.

"What's going on, Ginny?" her father asked. "Do you know who he really is?"

"Yes, I do."

"Sirius?"

"Yes, Arthur. He is my Godson, after all."

"Just listen to the wireless, please, Dad. Listen to what Harry says."

"Harry?" gasped seven voices in unison.

"...reporting for the Wizarding Wireless Network. Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge has been speaking for about fifteen minutes now, and shows no signs of letting up. His message is clear, however, amidst all the words. Thanks to the Ministry of Magic, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is being kept at bay, his Death Eaters are being apprehended and our safety is assured. After his short break, the Minister appears to be about to continue his speech…

…wait! Something's happening. There's just been a big flash of fire up by the podium, causing the Minister to duck for cover. It looks like a young man has appeared, standing on a large box. There's something on his shoulder. It looks like…oh my…is that?…Yes, yes it's a Phoenix…"

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded a flustered Cornelius Fudge, as he scrambled back to his feet. Harry, who was still standing on top of the large crate, turned to face the Minister, who was pompously stood centre-stage on the temporary platform that had been erected in Diagon Alley for his speech to the masses.

"Stand aside, Fudge," commanded Harry authoritatively, completely ignoring the wands that were pointing at him by Fudge's assignment of Aurors that stood behind him.

"Now wait just a minute, young man…"

"I SAID STAND ASIDE!" Harry roared, surprising many with his tone and shocking the Minister so much he took a step back. Harry leapt lightly from the crate on to the podium, shoving Fudge to one side and taking his place in front of an ostentatious looking lectern.

"Just who do you think you are…?"

Harry cut Fudge off again, and began addressing the assembled crowd of journalists, shopkeepers and general populace, who had gathered to listen to Fudge's annual speech. "Fellow citizens of Wizarding Britain, despite all the nonsense that you have heard spew out of this idiot's mouth…"

"AURORS! DO SOMETHING!" cried Fudge.

Harry turned to face the platoon of uniformed Aurors that were gathering behind him. "Would you attack an unarmed school boy? Surely the presence of this amazing phoenix demonstrates that I mean no harm. I wish only to speak here today." The looks on the faces of the Aurors showed their uncertainty. Harry saw this and turned back to face the crowd, praying that none of them would dare attack an unarmed boy from behind.

"As I was saying, despite the Minister's claims, a few hours ago, thirteen Death Eaters attacked the Burrow, the ancient family home of Ministry official Arthur Weasley…"

A small gasp of surprise rippled through the crowd.

"…It is with deepest regret that I must inform you that Molly Weasley, Arthur's wife and mother to seven children, was murdered in cold blood by the intruders."

Harry paused as the crowd reacted angrily to the news.

"Where were your Aurors then, Minister? Where were your Aurors as one of our societies' oldest families fought for their lives against a pack of rabid dogs? Were they here, in Diagon Alley, setting up this annual session of self-congratulation and smugness that no-one except you believes in? Well, Minister Fudge, you may be happy to bury your head in the sand and pretend Voldemort's hiding away with his tail between his legs, but I'm not. I will not allow these vile, cruel, evil people to attack innocent people, people who are my friends, people whom I love."

Harry hesitated as he fought to regain control of the anger that was welling up inside him as he spoke. His cool Slytherin demeanour regained charge over the impetuous Gryffindor after a few deep breaths.

"I have brought you a gift, Cornelius Fudge; it is still the season of goodwill, is it not? In this crate I have brought the deceased Death Eaters who had attacked the Burrow."

Harry waved his hand at the box, too caught up in the moment to think about taking out his wand and pretending to use it. The ropes around the crate loosened themselves and fell away and then the lid vanished, and the sides fell outwards, leaving the entire assembly free to see the thirteen – one body was transfigured from a log – burnt-to-a-crisp Death Eaters. As one, the crowd gasped in shock. The Minister turned green and promptly vomited off the side of the platform. Even some of the Aurors were having a difficult time looking at the blackened mess that was twelve dead sickos and a transfigured log.

"That is the final straw, young man," screamed Fudge, as he composed himself. "I demand to know who you are."

"Who am I, Cornelius Fudge?" Harry asked rhetorically, whilst staring angrily at the Minister. "You want to know who I am, Lord Voldemort?" he cried up to the sky. "I am the person who's going to send back each and every one of your Death Eaters in a box. I'm the one who's going to hunt them all down. You want to know who I am? I'M HARRY GODDAMN POTTER!!"

Harry fell silent. He looked at the crowd, who were staring at him with a mixture of fear, shock and jubilation that their saviour had returned. Harry turned to Fudge to see the podgy man reeling with astonishment. Harry turned full circle to see the Aurors, all of whom were staring at him, equally stunned.

Harry turned back to the crowd, who apparently were waiting for him to speak again. So he did.

"Rumours of my death were vastly exaggerated. See you around." In a flash of orange flame, boy and Phoenix disappeared from Diagon Alley.