Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot

Author's note: I had a lot of ideas of what may happen in the seventh book and decided to write this. I've only read the sixth book recently, so if I make any continuity errors, please point them out. Review if you wish.

Chapter 1

Coming of Age

"I'm so sick of this," a voice whined, and as the clouds uncovered the moon, a young man could be seen, bathed in silver moonlight

"Enough," hissed another, older voice. "You think I'm enjoying our time together?"

"Then why am I still here?" the first voice asked, unable to hide his anger at the second man.

"My patience is waning with you Draco," was the answer. "I've explained that enough. You must remain in hiding, for your safety."

The young man's usual sleek, blond hair was unkempt and his robes were creased and worn. It was apparent that he hadn't changed or showered in several days. His dour attitude and appearance were reflected in his surroundings. The two men sat in a small basement room, no bigger than a prison cell. The single, tiny window near the ceiling let in only a sliver of light, barely illuminating the shabby walls and earth floor. A wooden table, which was little more than a box, sat between the two occupied chairs. The only other items were a large trunk with a silver serpent emblem sitting in the corner, and a rough cot on the opposite wall.

The one called Draco picked at the cracked leather of his chair while muttering, "Don't see why I have to stay hidden for so long."

"Don't you understand?" the other man asked angrily, pushing the curtain of black hair off his face. "The Dark Lord was ready to kill you when he found out it was I who completed the task for you. I had to tell him you were captured to protect you. It was the only way he wouldn't hunt you down."

"And I thank you for saving me, allowing me this life," the blond sneered, slumping back in his chair.

"So you would rather actually be dead?" the older man asked through a clenched jaw, his sallow skin taut, making him look even more agitated. "Listen, Draco, it hasn't been quite so easy for me either. I'm now solely in the service of the Dark Lord. And without my use as a spy, I've become expendable." He spoke the last word with resentment, before he went on, "But the only way he won't search for you if he thinks you are already dead."

Draco huffed loudly in defeat and went back to picking at his chair. He didn't know how much longer he could take his confinement. He usually made sure not to look over at the battered door, for its four heavy locks reminded him of how secret and solitary his time here would be.

"That is enough for today, Draco," the older man said, standing and smoothing out his black robes. "I shall return to check on you in five days, as usual. And put that away," he added as Draco pulled out a thin, wooden wand and twirled it absentmindedly between his fingers, causing a spark or two to emit from the tip. "Remember, the Ministry can trace any magic you use."

Draco looked annoyed at him and put it begrudgingly back in the sleeve of his robes. "So what's next?" he asked dully.

"I must return to the Dark Lord and continue working on his newest plan," was the answer.

"He means to go through with it, then?" Draco asked, his curiosity stimulated. "Even after it's been done already."

"Done already? No, Draco, what he has planned hasn't been done already. What happened before was nothing compared to this."

For some reason, Draco looked offended, but only for a split second. "Very well… be off then, Severus." The other man looked affronted, causing Draco to smile and ask, "Or would you rather me call you 'Professor'?"

Cleary not amused, the man called Severus turned on the spot, and with a swish of his billowing robes, he disappeared, leaving the young man alone, chuckling to himself before going back to his usual sullen mood. Meanwhile, on the other side of the country, another boy his age was having an even worse night.

.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.

"Avada Kedavra!"

He couldn't move a muscle. He tried to scream but his mouth stayed shut. He could turn his head away or even shut his eyes. He was forced to watch every agonizing second as a jet of green light rushed forward and hit the old man slumped on the ramparts and lifted him over the side. He wanted desperately to look away as he watched the man he regarded as a mentor hang suspended in the air for what seemed like an eternity before slowly arcing over the side of the wall to fall a dozen stories down. There was nothing he could do. Those words played in his mind over and over again, in the voice of that man, that face looming right in front of him, taunting him…

It was at that moment that Harry Potter awoke with a jolt, quickly sitting up in his bed. His heart was racing and he wiped sweat from his forehead while trying to calm himself. Several minutes passed before his breathing slowed and he checked the clock at his bedside. The red digital numbers had just switched to 3:34.

Not too bad this time, Harry thought to himself. He had managed to sleep for three and a half hours before waking, which was slightly longer than normal for him. He had been having the same dream every night since returning to Number 4, Privet Drive.

His headmaster's death even haunted him when he was awake. In fact, he went so far as to close his school trunk in his closet as soon as he got back, for everything in there reminded him of the magical world, Hogwarts, and Professor Dumbledore.

"Dumbledore…" Harry whispered into the darkness, and a shiver ran up his spine that had nothing to do with the cool, summer breeze blowing through his open window. He had come to terms with the Headmaster's death but was still sensitive to it and felt the familiar burning sensation of grief and guilt. Though, he knew it wasn't his fault. It would do no good to blame himself when there was nothing he could have done. The only one to blame was Snape; that point had been made painfully clear by his closest friends.

Still, the thought of Dumbledore's death reminded him of how completely alone he was. Even with his parents and godfather gone, the Headmaster had always been there. Unfortunately, Harry had grown to rely so much on Dumbledore's guidance and protection that now it was gone, he went through a phase were all he couldn't think about was how completely lost he was. This feeling lasted only a week before Harry bounced back, but it would never be the same.

Harry had come to regard Dumbledore as a combination of a mentor and a grandfather, and a man that was in control of every situation, even Harry's life. Sure, the Weasleys and Sirius, and even Lupin, had taken care of him and given some parental influence, but he was only ever allowed to leave Number 4 with Dumbledore's permission.

But most importantly, Dumbledore had been their leader against Lord Voldemort and his forces. They had said that Dumbledore was the only one Voldemort ever feared; Harry shuddered at the thought of how confidently and forcefully Voldemort would act with Dumbledore gone.

Which makes finding his Horcruxes even more important, Harry thought, and felt the same familiar feeling of being completely alone. Only Harry and Dumbledore knew the existence of the scattered artifacts that housed fragments of Voldemort's soul. At this point, Harry realised he wasn't falling asleep any time soon and swung his legs around to stand up. He walked over to his cluttered desk and picked up a small, golden locket, looking over the fake Horcrux. He still carried it with him wherever he went, a reminder of the task ahead of him. He wanted to get to work as soon as he could, but for now, he was stuck with his Aunt and Uncle. All he could do was wait until his seventeenth birthday, when he would have to leave Privet Drive, as the protection it held would no longer exist. He had decided to stay at Number 12, Grimmauld Place. It was, after all, his house.

These thoughts had stirred something inside Harry, but he couldn't figure out what it was… unless… He looked back at his clock again. 3:47. That meant… Of course, Harry understood. Having just woken up, he hadn't noticed that for nearly four hours now, it had been July 31, Harry's birthday. He couldn't keep a smile from his face at the realisation that he was now of age and could practice magic outside of school. For several moments, Harry was lost in thoughts of transfiguring the Dursleys into hedgehogs, until something out the window caught his eye.

He looked out his open window and saw, flying over the thin mist that still hugged the ground, several owls, laden with letters and packages. Harry's heart lifted even higher and he stood up and waited to welcome them into his room. He tracked their approach over the roofs of the rows of houses that made up Little Whinging. They seemed to be repelled by the chilling mist, staying a good distance above the ground. As they flew closer, Harry could tell that there were four incoming owls, two of them carrying packages.

So, one minute later, Harry stepped back from the window to allow the birds into his room. Each of them swooped in, dropped their delivery softly on his bed, and glided back out the window in a matter of seconds; the only evidence they had been there was a few feathers swirling around the room. Harry shook his head before walking over to the bed and sitting down. How do they always know, Harry thought, briefly pondering the way owls could always tell, not only where he was, but when he was ready to receive mail. The first letter he picked up bore the Ministry of Magic seal. Curious as to what it could be, he quickly tore open the envelope and read the smooth parchment.

Dear Mr. Potter,

The Ministry of Magic would like to congratulate you on coming of age! As you are undoubtedly aware, you may now practice magic outside of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. However, under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlock's Statute of Secrecy, you are still required to use discretion when practicing magic in areas inhabited by the non-magical community (Muggles). Any breaches of this will result in disciplinary action on the part of the Ministry.

According to our records, you took part in several practice session over Apparition during your most recent school year. Should you wish to obtain your Apparition License, testing takes place here at the Ministry, Department of Magical Transportation, Apparition Test Center. Hours are 9 AM to 5 PM.

Congratulations again and enjoy the remainder of your holidays!

Yours Sincerely,

Julietta Entwhistle

Department of Magical Transportation

Even though Harry knew he could practice magic, it was nice to have official conformation from the Ministry. He had gotten into some trouble in that area before. And he had completely forgotten about Apparition. He decided, as he set the letter down on his bed, he would go to the Ministry today; there was no point in waiting, and he had already mastered the skill. He turned to the next letter and recognized this seal also. It was his Hogwarts letter. Wasting no time, he opened it and began to read:

Dear Mr. Potter,

To answer any questions or concerns you may have had in regards to the incidents last term: Hogwarts will indeed be opened for the upcoming school year. The Hogwarts Express leaves King's Cross, Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, the morning of September 1 at eleven o'clock. As per the governors' decision, extensive security measures have been taken to ensure the safety of all students. Be assured that Hogwarts is still the safest place in all of Britain. Any weaknesses that may have existed, as well as the problems leading to the tragic events last month, have been seen to. We hope you decide to continue your education with us and we guarantee you that your safety will not be in jeopardy should you return.

A list of school books for your possible subjects is enclosed.

Yours Sincerely,

Filius Flitwick,

Deputy Headmaster

Hmmm… So McGonagall was remaining as Headmistress then, Harry thought, not bothering to look at the booklist. She was perfectly able for the job, but he knew she would never be as great as Dumbledore was. He would have to go see her sometime in the next few days. Harry wondered how many students would return… or how many would support McGonagall like they did with Dumbledore. Harry loved Hogwarts and would hate to see it close down. After pondering this for several minutes, he turned his attention to his remaining post.

As he had guessed, the other two items were birthday cards and gifts from his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Harry hadn't seen either of them, or anyone from the magical world, since the wedding of Ron's brother, Bill, and Fleur Delacour two weeks ago. It had been a great day for everyone: the ceremony was beautiful and Harry met with many of his friends. The idea that there could still be love and hope in a world with Voldemort had uplifted Harry and he was truly relaxed for the first time in a while. He had remembered laughing with Hermione at Ron's awkwardness as one of Bill's groomsmen. Bill had recovered from his injuries very well, and, despite having several long scars on his face, he had never looked happier. There hadn't been any side effects yet from his attack by an untransformed werewolf, but everyone was still on their guard. The only down side to the day was Harry being cornered again by Rufus Scrimgeour, the Minister of Magic. He had asked if Harry had changed his mind about being a spokesperson for the Ministry. Harry, of course, hadn't. At least Harry wasn't too bothered by it. Shaking those thoughts from his head, he picked up the card from the first package and read it.

Harry,

Happy birthday mate! How does it feel to finally be of age? Be sure to give the Dursleys a good scare. I guess you'll be going to the Ministry for your Apparition test today. Don't worry, it's a breeze. My mum says if you do go, meet up with Dad afterwards and he'll bring you back here and we can all have lunch. Hermione's staying here, and Ginny will be around as well. Anyway, hope you like the gift. It's from all of us. Hope to see you soon!

-Roonil

Harry smiled and set the card on his bedside table, slightly disappointed. He had forgotten that Ron took his Apparition test earlier in the summer. Harry had hoped they could do it together. Maybe I'll see Neville there, he thought before turning to the gift. He tore it open, not knowing what to expect from the entire Weasley family. Discarding the wrapping, he opened the box and found another note from Ron.

Harry,

This is a vest and a pair of boots, both made of Dragon hide. The boots were picked out by Bill and they go with just about anything. The vest can be worn comfortably under or over your clothes (though I wouldn't recommend wearing it on the outside, lest you look like Fred and George). They will protect against a wide variety of jinxes, hexes, and curses. Just don't think you can step in front of the Killing Curse… Mum just told me I shouldn't joke like that, but I say you have to be able to joke, or you'll live your life in fear. Happy birthday again and take care of yourself.

-Ron

"Wow…" whispered Harry as he uncovered the gift and ran his fingers over the smooth, scaled material. The only Dragon hide he had was his school gloves, which were dark brown. The boots and vest were solid black, and they seemed to shimmer in the soft moonlight coming through the window. For the Weasleys to do something like this was too much. Even with Ron's dad's promotion the previous year, they didn't have much money and last time Harry checked in Madam Malkin's, the Dragon hide apparel was fairly expensive. And he figured the prices would've increased with all the Death Eater activity.

Harry felt a lump rise in his throat at the thought that the Weasleys would spend so much when they had so little, just to help protect him. It was at that moment when Harry realised the Weasleys really did consider him a part of their family. They had said it before but now Harry knew they truly meant it. It was also at this moment that Harry vowed to do everything in his power to protect them from Voldemort. He had already lost his parents, Sirius, and Dumbledore, and he wasn't going to let it happen to them as well.

When he finally came out of his thoughts, he set that present aside and opened Hermione's card.

Dear Harry,

Happy birthday! Hope the Muggles aren't being too hard on you. I'm staying here with Ron for a week and then my parents and I are going on vacation to Australia. I'm so excited! There's a good deal of magical history down there. It's where we used to send our convicts, and eventually an entire wizarding community grew. Plus, the native Aborigine shamans were some of the earliest users of magic.

I hope you like my gifts. I have a feeling they will come in useful. And now you don't need to be in school to use them.

Ron mentioned something about inviting you over here. I really hope you can come. It must be awful having to live with the Dursleys and cut off from the magical community at times like these. Anyway, hope to see you soon, and do be careful.

Love from,

Hermione

When Harry finished reading, he set the card on his table next to Ron's and opened the package. As he had guessed, Harry found books inside. The first one was entitled Advanced Defensive Magic: A Comprehensive Guide to Defeating the Dark Arts. Harry made a mental note to thank Hermione, as he knew this would come in handy. Expecting another book similar to the first, Harry was surprised to see what the other one was. His face lit up with a smile when he saw a copy of The Greatest Quidditch Games Ever Played. It was even thicker than the first and Harry noticed a note sticking out of the top. He read Hermione's neat cursive writing:

I figured you would want something to keep your mind off Voldemort

-Hermione

"She remembered," Harry said to himself, unable to lose his smile. He thought back to their fifth year during one of the trips to Hogsmeade, when Harry had flipped through it and pointed out that it was one of the most interesting books on the sport of Quidditch. Harry was amazed that Hermione had remembered all this time or that she knew how helpful it would be to have something to distract him every once in a while. He felt that familiar sensation in the pit of his stomach, but as usual, didn't allow it to swell and pushed it back down.

Ever since the wedding, something had changed in his mind about her. He couldn't get over how amazing she looked in her dress robes and had to force himself not to stare when she was near. He no longer saw her as a bushy-haired bookworm. She was now a beautiful young woman. But it wasn't just her appearance. Harry felt something else. She had always been his best friend, almost like a sister, but Harry realised that she was so much more. Ever since the moment they met, Hermione was never once jealous of Harry's fame or the attention he got. To her, he wasn't Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived; he was just Harry. She had always understood him, cared about him, and been there for him. Harry would always be indebted to her for how she helped him free Sirius, or helped him during the Triwizard Tournament, and stood by him even when the whole school was against him. It wasn't how he felt about Ginny, it was much deeper.

But, every time those feelings rose up, he would squash them down. He knew that as long as Voldemort was alive, he would use anyone close to Harry to get to him, and Harry wouldn't allow it any longer. He didn't know what his feelings for Hermione meant, but he wouldn't do anything about them now.

Just then, Harry let out a huge yawn and checked the clock. 4:15. He set the gifts in his trunk, realising that he would need some more sleep if he wanted to go to the Ministry in the morning. He set his alarm for nine before climbing back into bed. As he drifted off, he was, even if only for the moment, at peace.