Author's Notes: I do not own Harry Potter. Please be aware that this story is currently discontinued, and may be forever unfinished. Just a warning.

Kaycee Pearson gave a small sigh and an imperceptible smile as she watched pine trees fly past the car window. Something good was going to happen. She felt it. Ever since the beginning of summer, and the end of Kaycee's junior year, she had known that her life would change forever. It was something of a gift that she had, a gift that she had come to terms with long ago and never really told anyone about, not even her family.

It had been a few weeks ago, only three days after school had ended, when Kaycee had had a most unusual dream. In it, she had seen mixed images of happiness and despair, people opening presents around a Christmas tree, laughing as her brother blew out the eleven candles to his birthday cake, round wire-frame glasses, lightning and thunder, burning houses. She shivered, not wanting to think about the negative aspects of what she knew to be a vague vision. Kaycee had always gotten visions and premonitions like this. Usually they manifested as strong feelings, not to go this way, to choose this thing over another, even what to say to someone. Any dreams Kaycee had usually affected her life and family in fairly drastic ways. One dream she had gotten warned her to pull over to the side of the road when she saw a man in a yellow raincoat. The next day she had been driving when she saw a billboard on the freeway. It depicted a man in a yellow raincoat selling tuna. She immediately pulled over into the emergency lane, just before the car in front of her blew its tire and created a pileup with three deaths.

Kaycee did not know how or why she got these premonitions, whether they came through dreams or feelings. All she knew is that they had never done her wrong in the end, and so she looked forward to her families yearly trip to their cabin in the mountains more than ever.

"Dad, are we almost there?" Matt asked. Kaycee had to stifle a laugh as her brother bounced in his seat in anticipation. He loved the water, and the lake that was only a hundred feet from their back porch was always perfect in the summer.

"Not quite, Matt, only thirty minutes," her father replied.

"Can't you go a little faster," Matt persisted, "I want to get in the water before it gets too cold outside!"

"I'm sure the water will be plenty warm for you honey," Kaycee's mother said patiently. "The lake won't be going anywhere."

Matt nodded reluctantly and said, "Okay." He switched his game boy back on and thoughtfully turned the volume down before anyone asked. Kaycee smiled again. Matt could sometimes be annoying, especially around the very few boys that she had brought home to meet her parents, but was really the best little brother a girl could ask for.

The next few minutes passed in silence. Kaycee had returned to staring out the window, happily trying to figure out what exactly would happen to her during the summer. She was going into her senior year at her high school and planned to get a job over the summer. Could that be it? No, she quickly dismissed the idea, it was too simple and she could have figured that out on her own. Her premonitions always told her something she wouldn't have foreseen normally.

It was during her pondering when she felt it. That familiar warm tingling that started in her fingertips. It spread from her fingers down into her palm, seeping in through the crevasses in her skin like water in a valley. Slowly, she put her hand to her forehead like she had done many times before and gave in to the images that flowed through her mind. It was busy and hard to understand, suggesting from previous experience that the vision was relevant to here and now. Two images from her vision dominated all the others, a boy with black hair and a name, Gordon's Trail.

Kaycee snapped her eyes open in time to see a street sign flash by her window. It read, 'Gordon's trail, ½ Mi.' Below it was a picture of a toilet, signaling that there were restrooms available at the head of the hiking trail. Kaycee usually didn't lie to her parents, but she had to do whatever was possible to follow what her premonitions told her to do. "Dad?" she asked, "Can we stop at the bathrooms? I- I have to go." This was it, Kaycee knew. The vision had been strong, and she knew what who she would find at Gordon's Trail. Now there was only one question, who was that raven-haired boy?

*

The morning fog of Privet Drive looked unbreakable as the sun rose unseen in the eastern sky. The dark rainclouds that hung ominously over the pristine street filtered any comforting sunshine into a dull gray. Thunder sounded somewhere distant, and rain began to pour down upon the sleeping homes. Lawns soon became muddy, the streets and sidewalks slick, and the windows seemed to cry in despair as water streaked down their faces. It was Saturday, so most residents slept to the sound of pattering rain in peace. It would probably be an hour before anyone awoke.

There was one soul, however, that was up and about on this joke of a summer morning. Harry Potter appeared from the front door of Number Four, dragging a heavy trunk behind him as he stepped out into the rain. He left the door open, secretly hoping that the Dursleys found their house cold and wet when they awoke. It would be fitting, Harry thought, to have a cold and depressing house for cold and depressing people. He smirked, knowing that the Dursleys would have that last memory of their freak nephew.

Harry arrived at the sidewalk of Privet drive and pulled his trunk onto the black asphalt where it landed with a thunk. Water splashed from his jet-black hair, soaking into his quickly saturating jumper. He shivered as he felt the cold water finally soak through to his skin and looked down the street. Only about a hundred feet to go. Harry tugged again and began moving, the trunk scraping against the rough black road. Harry soon worked up a cold sweat, his breath fogging in the frigid morning air.

All questions of doubt had been reasoned away long ago, when Harry had first formed the plan in his mind. No one else would die helping him. His parents had been first, then Cedric, Sirius, and now Dumbledore. He would not allow it to happen to anyone else, especially Ron and Hermione. No, he had to leave, secretly and quietly, with no trace of where he went. Only Ron, Hermione, and himself knew of the Horcruxes existence and Harry planned to keep his hunt secret. It was his destiny, and he alone must bear the pain. With England in the state it was, Harry was sure that Ron and Hermione would be carefully guarded so they couldn't seek him, or the Horcruxes, on their own. There was even hints of them moving out of the country while the Order fought against the forces of Voldemort.

Things were, in short, an absolute mess. Voldemort had increased the frequency and ferocity of his attacks. Diagon alley had become an empty street with half of its shops closed. Parents were withdrawing their children from Hogwarts. Wizards were fleeing England, moving in with family on the mainland or in the Americas. Corruption was rampant in the Ministry. Scrimgeour, who was barely hanging on after the attack at Hogwarts, had declared a state of emergency, authorizing Aurors to kill Death Eaters on sight. Harry knew that the war had now truly started. Casualties on both sides were reported daily in the newspapers. Confrontations between the dark and light were quickly becoming more like full-fledged battles.

Muggle England was not much better. Remote areas of the country were soon found scorched and bloody. The Muggle news reported a rise in attacks from an unknown and highly skilled terrorist group. The Prime Minister was under heavy scrutiny by the public, and there was even talk of a vote of no confidence to replace him. Harry wondered how much longer the war could be kept from the world. He knew that neither side wanted Muggles to find out about the wizarding world; Voldemort because he despised them and the Ministry because of the paperwork.

The Order was now the main fighting force against Voldemort. Recruitment had shot through the roof as wizards and witches joined the war on the side of light. McGonagall had taken over running the Order as well as Hogwarts, and seemed intent on keeping Harry as 'safe' and isolated as possible with the Dursleys, just like Dumbledore had in the beginning of fifth year.

Harry was sick of it. He was no longer defenseless, no longer a child. He would be turning seventeen in a few weeks, an adult in the wizarding world, and no one treated him any differently. He had been everything but officially named Dumbledore's apprentice! Even Harry knew that was supposed to carry a lot of weight by wizarding tradition, but McGonagall was repeating Dumbledore's old mistakes. Harry was not going to sit quietly, he was leaving. The Horcruxes were waiting for him, and maybe he would find something in the world worth saving during his travels.

Harry moved along the street, accompanied by the lonely drone of rainfall and the dull scraping of his trunk. His thoughts drifted towards Ginny, and what she had said to him during their breakup. Did she truly think he, Harry, only cared about killing Voldemort? Was she interested in him, or in Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world and Teen Witch Weekly's most eligible bachelor? Harry's eyes narrowed in anger, for he knew the answer. Someone he thought was his friend once again had used him. Harry shook his head and scowled.

Harry stopped at a red mailbox, belonging to number seven, Privet Drive. This was it, the border of the protective wards around number four. Harry stopped for a second to think, but tugged on his trunk again. Ten more feet, he thought, just to be safe.

"Ginny," Harry said to no one as he moved the last few steps to his freedom, "You should have known that I'm not happy hunting him. You, of all people, should have known that. I want a life, friends, a house, and a family. I used to think that I would share my life with you, but now I know better. Now I know that it was a mistake."

With the red mailbox ten feet behind him, Harry dropped the handle of the trunk and straightened up, brushing the wet hair from his eyes. He felt the underside of his left wrist and ran his fingers over the unseen wand holster that had been one of Dumbledore's last gifts to him. Harry had learned much from his old mentor, about Voldemort and magic in general. He was particularly proud of the permanent invisibility charm that now rested around the beautifully crafted holster. Coupled with a permanent sticking charm around the buckles, the invisible holster left Harry's wand in a secure, easy to reach place.

He removed the wand from it's sheath and cast a simple shrinking charm on his chest, adding a wrist movement with his left hand that made ministry detection of underage magic delayed, if they ever picked it up at all. He stowed the now plum-sized trunk in his pocket and looked around for an item to use in his next task. A newly delivered newspaper sat in the driveway of number seven, so Harry picked it up and tossed it down where his trunk used to be in the middle of the street. He glanced down the street both ways, looking for any witnesses before realizing that it didn't matter. He was sure that he would be making quite a show in a few minutes. Harry drew his wand and fixed his gaze onto the newspaper, concentrating hard. "Portus," he said, once again utilizing the left handed flick Dumbledore had developed as he cast it. The paper glowed blue for a moment before returning to its normal off-white color.

Harry returned his wand to the wrist holster, watching fondly as the stained wood seemed to disappear into a pocket of air. The catch that secured his wand in place snapped shut automatically, and would open as soon as Harry touched it. He gave one last glance towards the prison that had been number four, Privet Drive and was happy to see three cats streak inside the front door to escape the rain. Harry hoped that they liked the place and began marking their territory as soon as possible. Wouldn't that be a nice present for his aunt to wake up to, the chill of the rain and the smell of cat urine?

It was time to go. The Portkey spell took a lot of magical power and the ministry would be sure to pick it up soon. Harry drew his wand again in preparation for another of Dumbledore's spells, one that he had never shared with anyone but Harry. The Chaff Charm disguised magical signatures in a given radius. This meant that disapparitions or Portkeys activated in its area of effect became untraceable. It required no incantation or wand movement, just sheer force of will.

Harry gripped his wand upside down and put one knee down on the asphalt. He set the tip of his wand gently onto the dark surface and closed his eyes. After a few seconds red light shone through the cracks of the fingers in Harry's clenched hand. For a few moments it would seem as if nothing more would happen, then the light slowly grew in intensity, accumulating into a blood red sphere. It suddenly shot down the shaft of Harry's wand and into the dark ground. A circle of red shot out in all directions coating the ground in a crimson red tint with Harry still kneeling in the middle. The air around Harry shimmered at random and the rain stopped immediately, unable to penetrate the invisible walls of the spell.

Just as Harry stood and stowed his wand a series of cracks and pops signaled the arrival of various Order members. They were always faster than the Aurors, especially when it concerned the 'safety' of their Chosen One.

"Mr. Potter, just what in Merlin's name do you think you are doing? Do you have any idea what kind of trouble this is going to cause with the Ministry?" McGonagall met Harry's eyes with a glare unlike he had ever seen. Harry thought the stress of running the order had really gotten to he. She had given him looks of disapproval and disappointment before, but never one like this.

"Professor you should have seen this coming. You probably should retake History of Magic, as you don't seem to learn from the mistakes of the past. You remember what happened last summer."

McGonagall's eyes softened slightly. "All I know, Mr. Potter, is that you are currently breaking the law. Now please drop this spell and return to your aunt and uncle's house, we can take care of the Ministry."

Harry shook his head. "It's a bit too late for you to undo what has happened. I am leaving to do what I have to do. I suggest you try to use this to your advantage. Put the word out that I have died, draw Voldemort out into the open."

"Leaving? Mr. Potter, what are you talk-"

"Say goodbye to Ron and Hermione for me." Harry bent down and picked up the newspaper. He glanced around once more and saw Remus looking back at him with sadness etched on his face. "I'm sorry Moony, but it has to be this way."

Remus said nothing for a few seconds, silently appraising Harry, before he said, "I trust you, Harry. Please stay safe and come back to us soon."

Harry nodded to the last marauder before shifting his gaze to the newspaper. Oh, how he hated Portkeys. "Three, two," Harry almost smiled at the shock evident on McGonagall's face, "One."

Privet Drive vanished in a swirl of color as Harry was whisked away into nothingness. He was very confident of his ability to make a Portkey, but he frowned at the speed he seemed to be traveling at. It was too slow. Suddenly another force gripped Harry by the hand and spun him around as the Portkey continued to pull onward. Harry tried to scream in pain as he was pulled in two different directions, but no sound came out of his throat. The Portkey started to slip from his grasp, unnoticed due to the almost overwhelming pain that Harry was experiencing. His fingers lost the connection, and the newspaper shot out of sight into the swirling ether. The remaining force on his hand seemed to slingshot Harry sideways before it too released him. Harry fell unconscious as the pain was finally too much to bear and submitted to the darkness. He continued forward to his unknown destination in a swirl of wind and color.