Harry Potter and the Power of One

Chapter 3: Down in Flames

A/N: Here's chapter 3! Thank you to all my new reviewers! I've thought about it and… This WILL eventually become a Harry/Hermione story. Nothing explicit. It will be slow-developing, as in they will probably not officially get together until chapter 6-10. For now, enjoy chapter 3!

jakefan: Hmm, I guess you could say that. But this will be a lot different than what happened in DH, just wait!

jkarr: Don't worry… I think I can make that painful death happen eventually *insert maniacal laugh here*

Guest: Thanks so much! Yes, I don't like the stories that have so much angst in them. Also, I do find it better for Hermione to spend some time with her parents instead of ALWAYS being with Harry and Ron somewhere.

Man of Constant Sorrow: Thank you! Your compliments mean so much to me! I agree, I always believed Dumbledore cared about Harry a lot and it came as a great shock to me in DH when they made him seem like nothing but a manipulator. Enjoy this chapter!

Disclaimer: I am a Canadian High School student. Definitely nothing close to the brilliance that is Joanne Kathleen Rowling. I'm sure my mediocre work will never reach anywhere near her masterpieces. All rights for anything recognizable from the Harry Potter books belongs to her, not me.

Harry awoke the next day, refreshed from a good night's sleep. Or as close as Harry Potter could get to a good sleep. Aside from one nightmare involving Sirius in the Department of Mysteries, nothing bothered Harry from the night. The nightmare, however, was still fresh in his mind.

Harry was walking through a thick white fog, which seemed to go on into an empty abyss of nothingness. He called out multiple times for anyone who could help him, but got no answer. He was alone.

"Hello! Is anybody there? Where am I?"

Suddenly, the scene shifted and Harry found himself in the Department of Mysteries. This time it was different. Everything was brightly lit and blurred, and no people moved about. It was just Harry and the Veil. The Veil fluttered, calling to him, and he took a step closer. Then he heard Sirius's voice, calling him from the Dias.

"Harry? Is that you? Come and find me!"

"Sirius! Where are you? I can't see," Harry replied.

"I'm in the Veil. Come in and get me. After all, it's YOUR fault that this all happened in the first place," Sirius yelled back.

That stung Harry to his core, of course he felt guilty, but having Sirius directly blame him hurt his conscience more than he would care to admit.

"I'm coming, Sirius! I'm sorry… I'm going to get you out."

"Run, run, as fast as you can Potter…"

Harry was inches from touching the Veil when the name "Potter" stopped him. Sirius would never call him that, neither in life nor death. Even out of anger, Sirius would always call him Harry. It could only be…

The scene shifted, and Harry found himself face-to-face with the serpentine features of Lord Voldemort himself. Harry stifled a scream and stood still.

"Time's up, Potter…" Voldemort said with a glint in his malevolent eyes. He raised his wand.

The dream ended there, and Harry couldn't help but wonder what it meant. Voldemort had never appeared in any of his dreams like that before. It seemed almost real. His scar had gave a twinge of pain for a short second after he had woken up as well, something that hadn't happened for months. Harry assumed he should tell somebody, but since he was going to Grimmauld Place tonight, he would just wait and tell an Order member when he got there.

'Better yet, I should ask Hermione. She should know a thing or two about it as well,' Harry thought.

Harry threw on some jeans and his Weasley jumper, then made his way slowly down the stairs. Facing the morning attitude of his aunt and uncle definitely wasn't something he was eager on doing.

"Er, good morning…" Harry said awkwardly, walking into the kitchen.

"Have a seat." His aunt said coolly, while his uncle simply nodded in his direction. Dudley was already seated at the table and looking over at him expectantly. Harry chose the seat next to him.

"Good morning, Harry," Dudley muttered. Of course, Petunia and Vernon wouldn't be happy about their precious son actually socializing with Harry in a nice manner.

Harry smiled subtly at Dudley while his aunt put a small portion of eggs and ham on to his plate. Harry grabbed the pitcher of orange juice and poured himself a small glass before starting the topic of conversation he knew should be addressed.

"Er, well, you know the man that came to talk to me last night? He said I'm leaving early. Instead of the 30th, I'm getting picked up tonight at 11:00."

"Why is that, boy?" His uncle grunted through a mouthful of eggs.

"Well… You know the one called Voldemort that everyone is trying to protect me from? The reason I was brought here in the first place?" Harry asked.

His uncle nodded reluctantly, not liking the topic of magic. His aunt, however said, "Yes. The reason Lily died, the one that killed her and James… What about him?"

Harry swallowed a sip of orange juice. "Well, the Headmaster of my school, Dumbledore, he has reason to believe there will be an attack here sometime soon."

"WHAT? So you can leave and allow this-this thing to bring unnatural filth to our home? We've done nothing wrong to deserve an attack. You, however…" His uncle exploded.

Harry cut him off before he could go any further. "There will be Aurors stationed in the neighbourhood-they're like police-and they will protect the house. I suggest you go along with it, unless you want to be killed," Harry told them, grabbing his glass of orange juice and heading upstairs once again. He really didn't feel like dealing with his relative's stubbornness.

'Maybe if they'd just listen to me once in a while, they would have more knowledge about what we're all really up against.'

With that thought, Harry reached his bedroom, shut the door, and sat down to begin his Transfiguration report.

~.~.~.~.~

Over an hour and 3,000 words later, Harry set his quill down and rubbed tiredly at his eyes. It was now noon, yet the weather could have fooled anyone. It was still dark and stormy, rain pouring down and occasionally turning into hail. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the wind blew so fiercely that Harry feared the wall would get ripped away.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Harry called tiredly.

The door opened to reveal none other than Dudley Dursley. He peered into the room before stepping in and closing the door quietly behind him. "Um, hi Harry… What are you doing?" He asked, keeping his gaze firmly on the window above Harry's head.

"Just some homework, but I've finished."

"Your lot get homework? You know, my parents would never agree with this, but they don't have to know… I want to learn more about what your school is like. You know, m-magic," Dudley stuttered horribly.

"Really? Well I suppose I could tell you a little… And yes, I do get homework," Harry replied skeptically.

"I've always been kind of curious since you got the letter four years ago…" Dudley muttered as he tentatively took a seat on the edge of Harry's bed.

"Er, well- My school is kind of like normal school. We go to classes, have breaks, lunch time… Of course, we live there for the year so we also have dormitories and get breakfast and dinner," Harry added. "We don't do things like maths and geography, though. We have classes like Charms, Transfiguration, and Potions-which is kind of like chemistry- and Defence."

"Transfiguration?" Dudley questioned, looking enticed.

'Yeah. It's a form of magic where we learn to turn objects into different objects. When we've mastered that, we move on to turning animals into objects, and vice versa."

"That sounds cool! I kind of wish I could do that," Dudley stated dreamily.

"Well, if you'd like, you can take a look through my Transfiguration textbook. I have it right here," Harry said, pulling it out from under the various pieces of parchment scattered around his desk.

"Wow, thanks Harry! I'll bring it back when I'm done," Dudley said, taking the textbook from Harry's outstretched hand. "And… I know I've never told you this before, but it's only come to light for me recently. I don't agree with the way my parents treat you. You… You aren't a freak."

Bewildered would have been and understatement to what Harry felt right then. Even though Dudley had asked him to play football the other day, and he had been somewhat nice, Harry never thought Dudley would go as far as to show interest in wizardry. To add to that, Dudley had just disagreed with something his parents said?!

'How much weirder could my life get?' Harry thought bemusedly.

"Thanks, Dudley. I guess you're not so bad either."

They both smiled, and then Dudley quietly left the room, obviously not wanting his parents to even think he had something to read about magic. The looks on their faces would be priceless, though…

Harry shook his head and grinned.

One thought was nagging in the back of his mind-why hadn't he gotten a reply from Ron and Hermione yet? Usually they were lightning fast when it came to replying to Harry's letters. Unless the Order was worried that a Death Eater would try and attack Pigwidgeon like they had Hedwig. Yes, that made sense.

"Boy! Get down here for a second!" Came the shriek of Aunt Petunia.

Harry sighed and trudged down the stairs. Any time his aunt called him downstairs it was to either do chores or cook them a meal. He reached the landing and walked into the living room, where his aunt and uncle were sat on the sofa. They motioned for Harry to take a seat as well.

"Look, we know you're leaving tonight, but there's still a list of things to be done. If you're not going to do all of them, at least do a thing or two to help out around here before you go!" Aunt Petunia scolded. Uncle Vernon nodded in agreement.

"And you're sure that you leaving won't cause that Lord Voldy-what's-it to come here and do some damage?" His uncle huffed.

"I can't promise you he won't show up, but like I said there will be Aurors around here to stop them," Harry answered, "Now if you'll excuse me, I guess I'll go clean the cupboard out. I have nothing better to do anyways. Might as well make sure I left nothing in there."

With that, his relatives turned back to the television, and Harry made his way to his childhood bedroom.

~.~.~.~.~

It was just as he remembered it, yet much more claustrophobic and small. Harry had grown quite a bit since he was ten years old, so he had to duck down low to walk through the small door. He recognized the few items he had left there immediately.

On the shelf above the small mattress sat the small action figures of knights and horses that he used to play with, and on the floor lay a small t-shirt with the slogan, 'I'm a superhero, but don't tell anybody,' on it. Harry chuckled. Dudley used to wear it all the time, and when it had gotten too small, Harry had gotten it. As usual.

A small blanket with stars also lay on the mattress, which Harry immediately grabbed. This blanket hadn't come from Dudley, in fact it hadn't come from the Dursleys at all. Harry remembered having the small baby blanket since he had lived at Privet Drive, so he assumed it was a blanket that Dumbledore might have left with him when he was left on the doorstep.

Harry gathered all of the small figurines, the shirt, and the blanket before turning the dim light in the cupboard off and closing the door. He walked back up the stairs and into his room, depositing the items on his bed.

'I should probably pack my things and get ready to leave tonight. I want to get out of here as soon as possible,' Harry thought. So he began.

Harry grabbed all of his textbooks and piled them in one side of his trunk. He then grabbed his spare parchment, his quills, and the majority of his wardrobe and sorted them all out into various places of his trunk. In the back compartment, he put the figurines, the shirt, and the blanket for safe-keeping. Even if he didn't particularly enjoy his childhood, he wanted to keep some reminders. As he was about the close his trunk, his finger brushed over something sharp. Ouch.

Small trickles of blood escaping his now-cut finger, Harry lifted out the culprit. It was a shard of the mirror. The mirror he got last year. The mirror that could have changed the outcome of the Department of Mysteries. The mirror that could have saved Sirius. Sirius…

'If only I had just remembered to use this, I would have known Sirius was OK and none of the battle would have happened. I wouldn't have put all those people in danger, and Sirius would still be alive…' Harry thought miserably, a small tear trickling down his cheek. He hastily wiped it away before shoving the shard back into his trunk and closing it with a loud thud. He then walked over and grabbed his Firebolt, setting it atop the trunk, before sinking on to his bed.

There was a knock at the door, and Harry immediately knew who it was.

"Come in, Dudley," Harry said emotionlessly.

Dudley walked in, grinning and carrying Harry's Transfiguration textbook. He set it down on top of Harry's trunk and then sat down on the bed beside Harry.

'Sorry I took so long with it, but I was also trying to tidy up my room so mum didn't yell at me to clean it again," Dudley said sheepishly.

'Took so long? Wait, I gave him that just after noon… What time is it?' He glanced at the clock on the bedside table and realized with a jolt that it was already 4:00 in the afternoon. He had been cleaning out the cupboard and sorting things out for much longer than he thought. He hadn't even had any lunch, not that that was a big deal.

"It was so cool! I never knew a freak sch-oh sorry, habit- a magic school would be so interesting. So what else do you do, huh?" Dudley asked excitedly.

Harry got up and quickly threw the Transfiguration textbook into his trunk before sitting back down on the bed. "Well, if you liked that then I guess I can tell you a little more…"

~.~.~.~.~

"DINNER!"

The shout from Vernon startled Harry, who had just finished cleaning up his room. If he was leaving, he might as well clean up so he didn't have to do it when he came back next summer. Dudley had left only minutes earlier, not wanting to be caught in Harry's room by his parents. They definitely wouldn't like that.

Harry made his way downstairs, grabbed a plate from the counter, and took a seat at the table between Petunia and Dudley. Dudley, predictably, was already stuffing his face with the salad and pork chops on his plate. Harry took a small portion of salad and the smallest pork chop. He really wasn't hungry.

"Petunia and Dudley, I propose a toast. To the boy leaving early for once!" Vernon raised his glass of alcohol. Petunia politely raised her glass of wine, while Dudley uncertainly raised his glass of Pepsi-Cola, shooting Harry an apologetic look. Harry simply rolled his eyes at the whole scene.

After the quiet and awkward dinner was finally over, Harry seized the opportunity and dashed his way up the stairs. It was now 6:00, only five hours until the Order would be there to get him. Excited was an understatement to the elated mood Harry was in.

Until the world split.

Harry's scar gave a tremendous burst of pain, so intense that Harry stuttered backwards on the second-to-top step and nearly fell. He squeezed his eyes shut and gorged the heels of his hands to his forehead as if it would make the blinding pain go away. Maybe it worked. As soon as it had happened, it stopped. Harry tentatively opened his eyes and climbed the last step on the staircase, walking slowly down the hallway and rubbing his scar frantically.

Harry sat at his bed and thought about all the possible meanings it could have. The scar had never hurt before unless Voldemort was up to something, or he was nearby Harry. The last option wouldn't make sense, as Harry had been told time and time again that Voldemort could not enter the wards as long as Harry called the place home. So, what Voldemort up to some sort of scheme somewhere else?

'Maybe it was nothing. There was no vision, and he wasn't trying to possess me.'

'But, what if he's torturing people right now? Shouldn't someone do something about it?'

'Well, I can't do anything now. I'll just tell Dumbledore about it as soon as I get to Grimmauld Place,' Harry conceded, lying back on to his pillows.

Peaceful darkness followed soon after.

~.~.~.~.~

Harry awoke with a start, eyes immediately flying to the clock on his table. It glared back at him in his now-dark room, 10:54pm. He had been asleep for nearly five hours! The Order would be there in six minutes! Harry thanked all the gods he knew that he hadn't slept any later.

'How did I even fall asleep?' Harry thought. That scar attack must have made him more tired than he thought.

Harry hastily gathered his extra things and glanced out the window. It was still dark and gloomy. Dark clouds hung in the air and thunder still occasionally rumbled. There was no more lightning, and the wind seemed to have died down. However, there was an eerie chill in the air that made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand up. He got an uneasy feeling. Harry quickly shook it off, picked up his trunk and Firebolt, and ran down the stairs.

The downstairs hallway was dark and empty. The Dursleys were asleep, obviously hoping that they wouldn't have to see Harry again and that they would wake up to his disappearance. Harry grimaced slightly. He moved to the front door and set his things down, waiting for the Order to arrive.

There was a frantic pounding on the front door, and Harry hastily opened it. It was not who he was expecting.

There stood Mrs Figg, looking horrified and distraught. She wildly gestured for him to grab his trunk and he did. She then grabbed his arm and dragged him out the front door. Harry was beyond confused.

"Perimeter shield… The Order's been delayed… Oh, got to get you out of here," she was muttering to herself.

Harry skidded to a halt. "Wait, what's happening?"

"Look," Mrs Figg said, gesturing to the outlying street. There in various parts of the street laid the Auror guards. They weren't dead, but seemed to be deeply unconscious. The eerie chill in the air picked up. "They are here. They erected a perimeter shield. The Order may be delayed by a few minutes. There's no time to waste, we need to get you out of here!"

"Bu-but what about the neighbours? The Dursleys? I can't just leave them all here!" Harry said desperately.

"Harry! There's no time, you need to leave! It's you they're after-"

A bone-chilling cackle stopped her mid-sentence. Harry drew his wand, and they both frantically looked around. In the air above them, there were at least ten Death Eaters on brooms. They all had their wands drawn, but they weren't exactly looking at him.

"Thisss will be fun, Potter!" Bellatrix cackled madly. She and the rest of the Death Eaters flew over Harry and Mrs Figg, directly towards Number Four. Before Harry could even properly aim a curse or run back to protect the house, they started incanting.

"INCENDIO!" The fire-making charm came from each of their wands, aimed at each part of the house. The Dursleys still inside, unsuspecting, innocent…

"NO!" Harry screamed, attempting a mad dash to the house. Mrs Figg, with strength he never suspected she had, easily held him back by grabbing both his arms and continuing to drag him down the street toward her home.

"I'm sorry, Harry. They don't deserve that kind of death, but we're too late, and I can't risk you running in there. They would kill you in a heartbeat," Mrs Figg told him sadly. Harry broke away from her hold and grabbed his trunk, staring sadly at the house that was his "home" for so long, which was now alight with flames and burning rapidly.

The sounds of the Dursleys screams began piercing the air, but it wasn't long before they were silent again.

Two of the Death Eaters tore their attention away from Number Four and flew back over to Harry and Mrs Figg. It was Bellatrix Lestrange and a seemingly new recruit Harry didn't recognize. Harry's blood boiled.

"You killed them, for no reason… I'LL KILL YOU!" Harry screamed, pointing his wand at her.

"Oh, really Potter? I'd love to see you try," Bellatrix said sweetly. Before Harry even uttered a spell, she had the upper hand.

"CRUCIO!"

Harry's body felt like it was on fire, white-hot knives piercing every inch of his skin. He gritted his teeth and doubled over, determined not to give them the satisfaction of hearing him scream. He sank to his knees, and the curse was lifted, leaving him panting on the ground.

"Harry! Poor dear, what did she do to you?" Mrs Figg yelled, putting a hand on his shoulder. He tried to smile, but it turned into a pained grimace.

"Your help won't be needed for much longer, old lady. I believe his time is up," said the other Death Eater in a heavy Scottish accent. He aimed his wand at Harry, who was in no shape to duel now. He had dropped his wand when under the Cruciatus Curse.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Harry closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable. Any second now… He would be dead, but he would see Sirius again. Yes, Sirius would be there.

Nothing came.

Harry heard a shout, someone standing in front of him, and the thud of something heavy hitting the pavement. Harry didn't want to open his eyes, for he knew what he would see when he opened them. He tentatively opened one eye…

There lay Mrs Figg, her hands held out in an act of defiance. Her eyes were open, staring into oblivion. She had jumped in front of the Killing Curse for him. She had died for him. Another person dead all for Harry Potter. Harry hated himself more than ever, wishing he could just crawl under a rock and die at that very moment. First Cedric, then Sirius, then the Dursleys, and now Mrs Figg…

'This is all my fault. Everything. If I didn't exist, all these people would have been much better off. They wouldn't be in danger right now.'

"IMPEDIMENTA!"

"REDUCTO!"

"STUPEFY!"

"PROTEGO!"

Familiar voices pierced through Harry's shrouded mind. Before he could even blink, the Death Eaters were all being stopped in their tracks. Bellatrix was stunned and then blown away from Harry, and all the others as well. The street was half-blown apart, and Harry would have been blasted away as well if not for the protective blue light of the shield charm surrounding him and Mrs Figg's body.

Figures on brooms descended to land beside Harry, and Harry looked up to see the familiar faces of Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin, Hestia Jones, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Mad-eye Moody. All of them looked concerned. "You're alright, aren't you? You're shaking like a leaf!" Remus said, moving to peer into Harry's face. Harry weakly smiled at him.

Realization dawned on Remus's face at once. "They used the Cruciatus Curse on you, didn't they?"

Harry nodded and shakily stood up. "Yeah, only once though. Don't worry, I'm fine. Really," He added, seeing the disbelieving look on all their faces.

"But the Dursleys… Mrs Figg…" Harry added helplessly, looking over at the house, the flames now being extinguished by other Aurors that had arrived. He then looked down at the body of a woman who had treated him horribly in his childhood, but had really been trying to protect him all along.

'After Dudley and I were finally getting along, this happens. Now Mrs Figg as well… Who next? Ron, Hermione? No. I won't let them be killed. Even if it means sacrificing myself, NOBODY else is going to die for me,' Harry thought.

Remus smiled sympathetically at him and put a hand on his shoulder. Tonks stepped up beside him. "We know, Harry. If only we had gotten here sooner… But no more thinking about that. It's not your fault. You couldn't have done anything. Mrs Figg shielded you willingly, remember that," Tonks told him. Harry could only nod in response.

"Yes, yes, it is sad. But for now, we better get you out of here, Potter. They won't stay stunned for long," Moody said, signalling them all to get on their brooms. Tonks took Harry's trunk and strapped it into the harness on her broom once again, while Harry robotically grabbed his broom and grabbed on. They all stood in a line.

"Same formation as last time, don't break ranks. You-Know-Who's bound to have something else up his sleeve tonight. Stay alert, and remember: Keep Potter safe," Moody instructed. Everyone nodded silently.

"Right them, 1… 2…-"

The world split again, except this time it wasn't just Harry who could hear the cold, snake-like voice. His scar was pounding and he clamped both hands to his forehead in an effort to subdue the ache. The Order members were glancing at him worriedly, while occasionally looking around frantically. The voice of Lord Voldemort drifted through the air around them. Somehow, even though he wasn't near them physically, he was projecting his voice to them.

"You have fought valiantly, Order of the Phoenix. I am surprised you managed to take out my Death Eaters. I must say, I am reluctantly impressed. However, you will behold your wasted efforts tonight. The Potter boy is mine, you cannot keep him safe forever. Now, Potter, I speak directly to you. You may be able to handle the Death Eaters, but I know your weaknesses… Can you handle THESE?"

The voice faded out and a cold chill filled the air again. Though the rain had stopped, the clouds lingered and the chill increased with every second. Soon, everyone was shivering on their brooms. That chill could only be brought on by one thing.

"Dementors, should have known… Alright, take off NOW!" Moody shouted.

Everyone kicked off into the chilled sky. They were flying the same way as last time, Harry in the middle, someone in front, someone in back, and everyone else flying in circles around him. Harry shuddered. How many more people would die for him tonight? He wouldn't be able to handle any more deaths.

Just then, ice began forming at the tip of Harry's Firebolt. Ahead of them, at least fifty black-cloaked figures floated in the air, ready to take souls away. The Order members had all drawn their wands and began chanting Patronus charms, but Harry was stuck, floating in the memories that so deeply haunted him. He couldn't even move any more.

'Not Harry, please, not my baby! Take me, kill me instead!'

'Lily, go, hide. I'll hold him off. Take Harry and RUN!'

'SIRIUS! SIRIUS!'

'You can't save him, Harry, there's nothing you can do. He's dead.'

A flash of green light…

"HARRY! HARRY! What are you doing?"

The shout from the Order made Harry snap back to reality. He was shivering violently, and he realized with horror that his broom had descended and he was only centimetres away from diving into the river. He hastily pulled up, just in time. However, he had gotten very far away from his guard, and he was being surrounded by the Dementors. Obviously, it was he they were after.

Time seemed to slow down. Harry drew his wand, but he could hardly keep it steady enough to draw forth his Patronus with his. The Dementors were drawing nearer and nearer. There was nothing he could do… He couldn't save himself this time. The Order members were rushing towards him, releasing their Patronuses, but the Dementors just wouldn't give in.

"Ex-ex-p-pecto…" He couldn't even finish.

They had drawn so close to him that he could feel their unearthly breath on his face. He struggled to move away, but they were pressing closer and closer to him. There was no escape. Harry screwed his eyes shut and waited for the inevitable.

"I told you, Potter, there's no escaping me. Goodbye, Potter…" Voldemort's snake-like hiss filled Harry's mind. He gasped.

There was a flash of bright white light, screams from around him… Then his mind became foggy and everything became distorted.

Harry no longer heard anything at all.

A/N: Dun, dun, dun! Perfect cliff-hanger right there. The next chapter will come soon! I had plenty of time to sit and do this one. I finished exams yesterday and today is all rainy and gross outside… So there was nothing for me to do besides this.

Please review! Thank you very much, and I hope you all have a great day!