If Voldemort Beat Harry.

2

I wake up in the messy room that I fell asleep in. The books from Hogwarts lie in a cluttered heap on top of the cracked wooden table. Harry's invisibility cloak rests on my knapsack. The broken window admits a cool draft. I stretch, pulling back the torn covers of the bed. I slept in my clothes, I should be ready to go. I hastily stuff the books into my knapsack and fold the cloak. I manage to stuff the cloak into my left pocket because of it's undetectable extension charm. I pick up my heavy knapsack and lift the straps over my shoulders. Time to leave. I walk to the front door, unlocking it, then steping outside leaving no clues that I was ever there.

I switch on my pocket radio and dial m for ministry. The ministry of magic was overthrown by the death eaters even before Harry was killed. Now it's just worse. Everyone's so scared of the death eaters that Voldemort no longer has to act through another wizard using the imperious curse. He is minister of magic. He makes the rules, and no one disobeys. I'm a fugitive now. I wasn't the first person to be caught supporting Harry Potter either, there are fifteen of us. Any sort of belief in protecting muggles or mudbloods is illegal. So is supporting anything Harry believed in. The rules are now completely unfair. Voldemort is working really hard to make sure that only pure bloods survive. I'm supposedly a half blood. Only registered half bloods are legal and of course, for me going to register is suicide. Considering all the stuff I'm wanted for, it's amazing that nobody's caught me yet.

The radio blares, "The current wanted list reads, Amy dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, horis Slughorn, Luna lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasly, Molly Weasly, Athur Weasly, Bill Weasly, Fleur Weasly, George Weasly, Charlie Weasly, Percy Weasly and Ronald or Ron Weasly. Any witch or wizard caught helping these fugitives will be punished as equals. Rewards will be paid depending on the fugitive and if they are dead or alive. Turn in these individuals to claim one of these rewards." No big surprise that all fifteen of us are on the list. "Any unregistered half bloods that choose not to register will be considered blood traitors and can be turned in for 100,000 galleon rewards. Mudbloods and muggles must be killed if you kill one, you may be rewarded. Any assisting of muggles or mudbloods is illegal. Pure bloods do not have to register." Now I'm not really listening. The radio always seems to drone on and on about what's illegal. I always seem to apply as illegal. I may not be assisting muggles but I am an unregistered half blood.

The street I walk along is dirty and cracked. I don't have to worry about cars, no one lives here anymore. Traveling in daylight may be dangerous but it sure makes the going easier than if I were doing it at night. This muggle area was already searched. The muggles that lived here were either killed or they fled. None of which matters now. I couldn't of helped them. Holes in the ground tell me that abusive spells were used. In some places bodies line the ground, and blood stains and burn marks splatter the walls. Some houses were burnt. Some were blown up, but most homes remain standing, but cracked, dirty and abandoned. Some of the big cites like London still haven't been cleared of muggles but most residential areas look like this one.

My dream is a reminder of the fact that I still can't get over Harry's death. How glassy his eyes were, and the dark mark looming over Hogwarts marking his death. How cold he felt when I managed to approach the body and how much I cried when I carefully closed his eyes and tried to tell myself that he would just be sleeping for a very, very long time. I can still picture the cobble courtyard where he fell and the jet of emerald green sparks that hit him. I miss him, not just as an ally, but as a very close friend.

I remember Harry with his pale green eyes, like his mother's others used to say. I liked his eyes. I always thought his hair was tangled and messy and his glasses often lay at a crooked angle. His lightning scar was often peeking out from beneath his hair as if it were a hidden part of him that no one should have seen but still did, as if it were a secret that he treasured or a reminder of his past. Harry either wore simple clothes or his Hogwarts robes. Even before my father died we were close but after we became closer. He helped protect me when my family was gone, when I was alone.

I pick up the radio. I dial dumbledore to reach the secret radio station that Arthur set up. He got the idea from a secret radio station that was used last year to send out messages. Each week you have to dial something different to get the signal, and everyone has a code name. Same protocols as the old seceret station. This week the word is dumbledore. Today is the day where they anounce the new dial code so I need to tune in. At first there's static, but then I hear Ron's voice. He speaks on the radio all the time. "Same place same time. Friday. We ask all of the DA to come. Important. Several muggle towns destroyed. New code is mudbloods. This is redhead potter fan signing off." The message begins to repeat. I'm pretty sure that that's the whole broadcast. The reports are always vague and in code in case the ministry finds the signal. Only Harry's friends and supporters should understand the messages.

Why are we having a meeting? Has something happened? And why have the meeting at Hogwarts? In the same place as last time? Do they want to be caught? The ministry's always on the prowl for illegal's like us. So why would they make it so easy to be found? But no matter what they were thinking, I am going to Hogwarts. It doesn't matter that my father died there, or that Harry died there either. I am going to Hogwarts, tonight at midnight.