I TAKE NO CREDIT FOR THIS. IT'S ALL MY FRIEND'S! I DIDN'T COME UP WITH ANYTHING! My friend wants me to say that it was just her idea and I wrote all of it, but actually she did way more than she gives herself credit for.

Oh and I don't own Harry Potter either…

Prologue

A young girl sat cross-legged on a plush cushion, alone in a bare room. Her eyes were closed, as though she might have been dozing. A dozen candles glowed around her as she breathed evenly, forehead creasing in concentration. A bowl of water sat in front of her, the surface white and milky, instead of clear as water should be.

The surface flashed once, and then cleared, revealing the image of a child with messy black hair, sleeping in a small, dark space.

The girl's eyes flickered open as the image faded and she stood. The candles blew out, leaving the room dark, as she walked to the door. Opening it a crack she spoke to the figures outside, "Come in. I've found him."

Three figures hurried into the room, none of them more than sixteen years old. "Where?" one of them asked quietly.

"With muggles. It looks like abuse to me," she turned to the boy who looked like the oldest, "We have to get him. God only knows what will happen if we leave him alone."

"But he's supposed to be safe there," another girl interjected, "If we take him away, he won't be safe."

"They're hurting him!"

"Not physically. He'll be alright."

"And when has that ever stopped us before?" spat the last figure.

The older boy held up his hands, "Shut up, all of you!" He took a deep breath, "This is a mission that depends on a lot of things. We know we can get him out, as long as there aren't any protective wards. We know we can get him back here, as long as we do this right. We know that he's being hurt where he is. Not physically," he said, seeing the look on the second girl's face, "but mentally and emotionally. Can any of you tell me you haven't felt that abuse at some point?"

The others shook their heads, not meeting his eyes.

"Alright," the older boy said, "We need a plan."

The night sky way clear and the streets deserted as four figures slipped through the back door of the orderly house. The older boy waved the two girls towards the spot where the young boy lay, asleep, while the other boy poked his head into the other rooms to see if everyone else was asleep.

The black haired girl picked up the sleeping boy gently, and his eyes snapped open. "Who are you?" He asked, a little too loudly.

The girl shushed him and whispered into his ear, "We're taking you away. To a place where you'll be safe." Then she touched him on the forehead lightly, "Sleep." The boy's eyes drooped and he became still.

A crash sounded from another room and the older boy winced, "Too late, they already heard him! Go!"

Lights flicked on in the hallway and the group heard bellowing and swearing from another room. A large man came bellowing into the room, "Thieves! Thieves and burglars! Get out of my house at once! I'll call the police on you! Get-"

The group didn't hear the rest because they were already out the door and into the street. The large man tried to follow them, but the boy made a gesture and the door slammed shut.

"Let's get out of here," he said quietly, "Now."

Back in the dark room again, the girl set down the sleeping boy on the cushion. He curled up around himself, looking so small and fragile in the dim moonlight. She brushed back his hair as he slept, revealing a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt.

"So," she murmured, "So this is the boy who lived."

So… yeah….Review?