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Disclaimer: This fan fiction was based on the Harry Potter books by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership on any character created by J.K. Rowling, and no money is collected from this story. This is one way I show appreciation to J.K. Rowling's works. Other names or places on this story are fictional. Any similarity to actual name is purely coincidental.




Chapter 4: Black Day

The emergency ward of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was enjoying a downtime for quite some time now. You-Know-Who seemed to be keeping a low profile after the capture of some of his key Death Eaters at the Ministry of Magic. Today, a lone redheaded witch healer gave a long boring sigh and checked the emergency ward for the fifth time. She was going through a checklist when the alarm for incoming portkey sounded. An auror cloaked witch with pink hair and a wizard trainee appeared with two limped bodies. She immediately checked the old man, and then sadly closed the open lifeless eyes. She then proceeded to check the young man and gasped in surprised.

"Harry," she whispered.


He was facing a huge burly wizard. "Harry look out!" cried a voice behind him. He quickly glanced over his right shoulder and saw a wickedly grinning wizard shout a curse at him.

"Avada Kedavra!"

He tried to dive out of the way, when a body slammed into him followed by a bright green light. He got up, turned over the body, and saw the lifeless eyes of Max...


"Uncle Max!" Harry shouted in a frightened voice as he suddenly woke up. He wildly looked around, confused at his surroundings. He looked at the other beds and saw them empty. He finally realized he might be in a hospital.

"Uncle Max! Uncle Max! Where are you?" Harry frantically shouted at the top of his lungs.

He was about to get up when a redheaded woman in a lime green robe entered the room. She prevented him from getting out of the bed and tried to calm him down.

When he finally calmed down, Harry asked in a trembling voice, "Where is Uncle Max?"

The woman looked sadly at him and slowly shook her head. Harry stared at the woman in disbelief, his eyes moistening with unshed tears.

"I found this in your cloak," the woman brought out a wand. Harry stared at it for a moment and slowly took it. He grasped it with both hands and brought it close to his heart. He bowed his head as tears began to flow from his eyes. His body began to shake with painful sobs. The woman pulled his head towards her shoulder as his heart cried out in pain and sorrow.

Suddenly, flower vases, water glass, and pitcher exploded. A wind started to blow around the room. Slowly at first, but it steadily gained momentum until bedclothes, parchment and small objects flew around the room. It died down after a while and the room was quiet once more. The woman gently laid the sleeping and emotionally spent Harry on the bed, and lovingly covered him. She brushed the hair off his forehead and gently wiped the telltale sign of tears.

"I'm very sorry Harry," the woman whispered mournfully.


It was a quiet enough neighborhood considering it's located in London. There wasn't much traffic and the houses were on the upscale side of society. Nothing out of the ordinary happened here you might say. But if you looked at the numbering of houses, the number skipped from eleven to thirteen. It might look odd if you thought about it. But to the residents of number twelve Grimmauld Place, it made perfect sense.

Number twelve Grimmauld Place was under the Fidelius Charm. So no muggle or uninvited guest could see or enter its premises. For a while, the house stood empty when Sirius Black died defending Neville Longbottom, The-Boy-Who-Lived, at the Ministry of Magic. The Order moved back in when the house was willed to Remus Lupin by his dear departed friend. Inside the house, there were an unknown number of witches and wizards milling around, engaged in conversation or gossip or whatever magic folks talked about. They seemed unconcern with the dark feel of the house. A house elf, named Dobby, popped in and out replenishing drinks and other finger foods.

"Everyone, your attention please," Albus Dumbledore called, his expression solemn and his presence commanding respect. "We are ready to start the meeting if you will all proceed to the kitchen, thank you."

Everyone took their seat around the long rectangular wooden table. Albus Dumbledore sat at the head of the table.

"The three hundred forty six meeting of the Order of the Phoenix is now open," Dumbledore said. "We will start the report from the ministry."

"An unknown number of Death Eaters launched an attack in Surrey and killed a family of muggle. No concrete evidence was found to identify the identities of the perpetrators," began Kingsley Shacklebolt, an auror.

"Thank you, Kingsley," said Dumbledore, with sorrow on his face.

"Well, we responded to a report of disturbance at Diagon Alley. The wizard who reported the incident was hysterical, so we thought there was another Death Eater attack," Nymphadora Tonks recounted professionally. "Six aurors including me went to investigate. We were too late. The fight was over when we apparated. A muggle was killed."

"Did you get the descriptions of the murderer?" Professor Minerva McGonagall asked with a look of concern.

"From the descriptions of the people who witnessed the fight, we believed it was Marcus Flint." Tonks calmly answered. "We took the body and a boy named Harry Evans, who was involved in the fight, to St. Mungo."

"What!" Remus Lupin yelled, with a surprised expression. That was unexpected news. He looked worriedly at the couple sitting across him and saw their calm faces. They already knew. A few witches and wizards around the room nervously glanced at the couple also.

"Isn't Harry Evans a squib?" Professor Severus Snape asked innocently, but his dark eyes gleamed with malice.

"One more word out of you, Snivellus and I'll..." Remus said threateningly, unable to contain his anger, his chair tumbled on the floor when he suddenly stood up wand in hand.

"Or you'll what, you pathetic werewolf?" Snape asked challengingly, with a look of loathing. He, too, stood up wand at a ready.

"Enough!" Dumbledore exclaimed, sitting straight and very much in command. "This is not the time or the place. Both of you, please, sit down." Dumbledore ordered in a clipped tone of voice.

A tense silence settled in the room. Nobody moved or made a sound. Remus and Snape still continued to glare at each other, both waiting for the other to cast the first curse. Tonks conjured a big bucket of popcorn and started munching while her eyes moved excitedly from Remus to Snape and back again. The crunching sound broke the tense atmosphere and everyone looked at Tonks in disbelief.

"What?" Tonks looked innocently round the table while stuffing her mouth with popcorns.

Everyone laughed, chuckled or smiled at Tonks' antics. Remus and Snape warily took their seat while throwing each other hateful glances and the meeting resumed.

"Thank you, Nymphadora," Dumbledore said lightly, his eyes twinkling. Tonks on the other hand scowled at him. "Arthur, has Minister Scrimgeour discussed with his Office Heads his outline to combat Voldemort and his Death Eaters?" Dumbledore asked, directing his question at Arthur Weasley, Head of Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects.

"He has drafted several decrees but nothing major. I think he's going to authorize the aurors the use of the unforgivables," Mr. Weasley reported. This announcement produced different reactions.

"So, we're going to have another Barty Crouch Sr. on our hand," Professor McGonagall quipped, appalled at the idea.

"It's about time," Mad Eye Moody argued, his artificial eye going madly around its socket. "The only way we can win this war is when we fight fire with fire. Those Death Eaters are becoming more cruel and sadistic because the only thing they can expect from us is a trip to Azkaban. I wouldn't be surprised if some of them consider Azkaban as their personal vacation retreat."

All the aurors in the room nodded their heads. It was one thing to risk their lives, but it's another thing to throw it away. The Death Eaters wouldn't hesitate to kill them. They should have the option to kill them also. They were at war, so it was only fair.

Dumbledore, on the other hand, had a different point of view but kept it to himself. "Thank you, Arthur," he said in somber voice. "If there's anything else, anyone would like to add?" Dumbledore expectantly asked the group at large. Nobody spoke. Everyone waited for Dumbledore to continue. They had a feeling that what was about to be discussed would be very important.

"What I'm about to tell you must never leave this room or must be discussed with other Order members not present in this meeting," Dumbledore cautioned everyone in the room. His face might have a solemn look, but his voice had a tone of urgency.

"During one of my researches on how to defeat Voldemort, I have uncovered one of his secrets to gain immortality," Dumbledore said gravely. Every witch and wizard in the room sat transfixed waiting for Dumbledore to continue. "It seems Voldemort has sequestered a part of his soul in a Horcrux."

"A what?" Bill Weasley interrupted.

"A Horcrux... It is usually an object or sometimes a living thing of value to a wizard or witch. He or she uses it as a vessel to store a piece of his or her soul," Dumbledore explained helpfully, his expression grave. "It is a very Dark Magic, so dark that very little is known of the subject."

"How sure are you, professor, that You-Know-Who actually created this Horcrux?" Bill asked uncertainly. He couldn't shake off the feeling of dread.

"The information was shared by an old friend who was tricked by Voldemort to reveal his knowledge on this subject," Dumbledore answered sadly. The rest of the Order felt disturbed by the revelation.

"Why would he want to split his soul?" Tonks asked aghast.

"Like Dumbledore said... immortality. As long as a piece of his soul remains here, we can never be rid of him," Mad Eye answered. "Do you have any idea where we can start to look for this Horcrux, Dumbledore?"

"I'm afraid it's not that simple, Alastor," Dumbledore replied gravely. "I have reasons to believe that Voldemort had split his soul not once but seven times."

Everyone gasped. Different conversation started at once. All were expressing their horror and amazement.

"He's insane!"

"Why would he do such a thing... his own soul at that?"

"We're doomed!"

"Do you think it's too late to get a life insurance?"

"We'll just have to kill him again and again, then."

"Quiet everyone, please," Dumbledore spoke aloud, hands upraised, trying to get everyone's attention. When some semblance of order was established, the meeting continued.

"Professor Dumbledore, do you have any idea what they look like, these Horcruxes?" Mr. Weasley asked, in a very serious voice.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I'm still sorting through various references," Dumbledore replied regretfully. "However, I am happy to say, one of the Horcruxes was already destroyed." The witches and wizards gave a collective sigh of relief.

"What was it, professor?" Mr. Weasley asked.

Dumbledore hesitantly said, "It was Tom Riddle's diary." Molly Weasley audibly gasped her eyes watering. She remembered her frail and scared eleven year old daughter.

"Are you going to discuss this information to Longbottom?" Mad Eye asked a speculative look on his face.

"Yes, I may have to. We need him in the coming war," Dumbledore answered in a regretful voice.

"Headmaster, do you think that is wise?" Professor Mcgonagall asked horrified. "He has been through a lot."

"We can only do so much. In the end, it will be up to him," Dumbledore explained strangely. The prophecy was very much in the forefront of his mind. The meeting went on for a bit. Everyone offered suggestions. Heated arguments ensued until they all agreed to do further research.

"I would like to advise everyone to keep their eyes and ears open for hints of information on the Horcruxes. If there's nothing else, I pronounced this meeting closed," Dumbledore declared finally.


Everyone piled out of the kitchen into the main hall. Some of the witches and wizards had troubled look on their faces. Mad Eye and the other aurors, on the other hand, had determined demeanors for they knew the stake just went up. At last, the kitchen had emptied and four people remained. Dumbledore, who was lost in his own thought, glanced around and realized everyone almost left. He was about to stand and leave also when the other three persons stopped him.

Settling back on the chair with a puzzled expression, Dumbledore amiably asked, "Lily, James, you have something to ask?"

"It's about Harry, professor," Lily began in a concern voice. James, sitting beside her, reached out and covered her hands with his, giving her strength and support. "Last night at St. Mungo, Harry did accidental magic." Dumbledore nodded at the guilt ridden couple but remained silent. "We wanted to ask you if you have any idea how Harry suddenly developed magic."

Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a minute. "I have no definite idea. I can only offer speculations," Dumbledore sadly replied. "The only known squib who gained magic, offered his soul to the devil and his magic only lasted for a week. I doubt Harry has enough exposure to the magical community to attempt it. He could be a late bloomer. But the magical scans done to him when he was a baby should have revealed his magic." Dumbledore lapsed into silence, thinking. He had an odd expression on his face. "Tell me, Lily. Was he holding any magical item when the accidental magic occurred?"

"Yes, he was holding a wand," Lily replied confused. At the time, she didn't bother to ask Harry why he had a wand. Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling madly. A happy smile played on his lips.

"Do you remember when you and James were attacked the third time by Voldemort? One of his Death Eaters managed to send a cutting curse at you," he said.

"Yes, I remember. I couldn't block it in time. It hit me but nothing happened. I was four months pregnant with Harry at the time. I was so relieved that he was fine. Except when he was born, he was a squib." Lily bowed her head in shame. Silent tears streamed down her face. She also remembered wishing that Harry should have died. Harry had undergone expensive magical scans for several days to ensure the spell didn't harm him. That was when they found out he was a squib.

James hugged her with aching heart. He knew it was a painful memory for her, for them. They stayed like that for a moment. Then, she suddenly looked up. Her face had an expression of wonder and hope. Dumbledore smiled widely seeing that she finally understood.

"What?" James and Remus asked almost at the same time. Their faces showed confusion. They looked back and forth from Lily to Dumbledore and then back again.

"Don't you see? The cutting curse didn't work because Harry blocked it," Lily explained excitedly. "And when he did, it might have overloaded his magic."

James had a dubious look on his face. "And at St. Mungo, the wand acted like a muggle battery and jumpstarted his magic?" James asked doubtfully. "Don't you think that's a little bit farfetched? He was just an unborn four months old baby. He couldn't do magic let alone blocked one."

"Don't forget James. Neville Longbottom defeated our world's most powerful evil wizard by surviving his Killing Curse. He was only fifteen months old at the time." Dumbledore smiled knowingly.

James conceded to that argument. "But why only now? And why does he have a wand anyway?"

"Because, we left him with my sister," Lily said ashamedly, her eyes moistening with tears. She forgot to answer James' other question. "His magic would have replenished sooner if we didn't send him away."

"You don't know that. I know it was a mistake to give him to your sister. But, at the time, we thought we were doing the right thing," James comfortingly said to his wife and hugged her again. He knew no matter what he said, Lily would always blame herself. It was also his fault as much as hers.

Lily stirred from the crook of his arms. "It wasn't his first magic," she mumbled out of the blue. She looked at him with wide eyes.

"Huh?" James grunted dumbly.

"The wand I gave to him wasn't his. I noticed that it's old and well used," Lily explained excitedly. "What if he was already using that old wand? What if they were in Diagon Alley to buy a new wand?"

"It is possible," James agreed uncertainly. "Remus and I could go to Ollivander and asked him if Harry visited his shop."

"What about his magical training professor? Would it be possible for you to invite Harry to Hogwarts?" Lily asked hopefully.

Dumbledore gave them a measuring look and solemnly said, "I can, yes. But you have to understand, Harry missed five years of magical studies. I couldn't in good conscience put him in sixth year. That would be unfair to other students. And, I doubt he would like to attend classes with first years."

"But you heard what Lily said, he did accidental magic. He must be trained to control his magic or he will be a danger to himself and to others," James assertively reasoned his face anxious.

Dumbledore looked thoughtfully at James. "If Harry agrees to attend classes with the first years, I will allow him to go to Hogwarts. I will also allow him to study in advance and take his OWL early," Dumbledore compromised. "However if he refuses, you may have to privately instruct him. You can even train him here if you like."

"Thank you, professor. I'm sure Harry will agree," James said confidently. Lily had a watery smile on her face. "If he refuses, well I'm sure Professor Lupin, here, will volunteer to teach him." He mischievously grinned at the ex-professor who exaggeratedly scowled. "And I will train him to be the best prankster that ever lived!" James had a rapt expression, thinking that the Potter family would now be whole again.

"And who, pray tell, will inform Harry of all these?" asked Remus giving everyone a questioning look and thereby dampening their spirit.