AUTHOR'S ADDRESS:

Welcome, my dears, to another year at Hogwarts! In it you will find danger, intrigue, mystery, romance, drama, and I'll also toss in a bone for you called humor. This story will be 50 chapters long, it is already written (with a few tweaks here and there as I post), and my plan is to upload it all by (new date, I know, I KNOW it keeps changing, BUT I promise I make this story loads better each time I post with these new scenes!) July 4th 2020.

This is a stand-alone fic, but also features one or two original side characters from Whydoyouneedtoknow's "Living with Danger" HP fanfic series to make it a tad more interesting. So settle down, open up your ears, and I will tell of what you've longed to hear...

(Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, the universe, the settings, or the little plot bunnies hopping around. They all belong to You-Know-Who, who has simply granted us freedom to play the Wonderful Wizarding World of Harry Potter.)

Cheers!

~ Hestia Hesperus~

PRELUDE TO THE CAPTURE

Lord Voldemort stroked Nagini's head as he looked out the castle turret of his domain. The sky was black, the clouds pregnant with rain, and the wind whipped the salty sea air around the bare high death-defying cliffs in the North Sea, creating a howl of dismayed rage.

Yes…his new headquarters fit him nicely.

It was far from prying wizarding eyes, and conveniently Unplottable. The only way in and out past the anti-Apparition wards was through touch of the Dark Mark, which prevented any unwanted Ministry or Order members from even trying. But that alone was not his reason for being here.

This place had always been special to him. Ever since he found the markings left by Salazar Slytherin in the hallowed Chamber of Secrets. Ever since he decided to accomplish what the greatest wizard before him had done.

And this was the place rumored to hold the greatest of those magical objects. Even now his Death Eaters had been given orders to search the land about for any sign of the missing weapon.

Ah…the Founders' Gifts. Objects he had been searching for many years to turn into his four final Horcruxes—Gryffindor's sword, Hufflepuff's goblet, Ravenclaw's diadem, and, of course, Slytherin's locket.

He himself was in the possession of one, and had it safely locked away in a magical basin in a secret cave. Another was as protected from him as it could be—that fool of an old man made sure he couldn't get to it, and guarded it in his own office at the school. The last two were lost to the world and being hunted down by his servants.

And the last was, of course...here.

But he had to secure them. It was vital. His own immortality depended on it. Which brought him to his greatest triumph—his Horcruxes.

"Yes, my pet," he said to Nagini, who nestled her head in his neck. "We need to make more, don't we? After all, I will only be at my strongest with my soul split into seven."

As if the fates weren't cruel enough to him, he had only been able to make three Horcruxes before he…fell. First, of course, was his own diary that he'd made with the death of that Mudblood girl. The next was his family's ring, said to have belonged to the great Slytherin himself, which he had turned into a Horcrux with his filthy Muggle father and grandparents. He had hoped to make one more soon after, but the only objects that would do were the oldest and most powerful—the Founders' gifts. Nothing else would work. And so, he had spent his life searching for them.

He had thought he found the cup at the witch Hepzibah Smith's house…but when he went back there again to retrieve it...it was gone.

As for dearest Ravenclaw's diadem…that lying hag hadn't found it at all. She had a goblin-wrought tiara engraved with the letter 'R', but the markings didn't match with the historical documents of the diadem. It was a fake. And so, his search for this Gift continued.

And then he had gone to Dumbledore, his old Muggle-loving professor, who'd just been made headmaster, for a teacher's position. He'd known he would never get it, of course. But that trip into Hogwarts had shown him exactly where the third gift of the Founders' was—the sword. And he had tried to retrieve it ever since. His idiotic servant and host Quirrell tried first, and failed abysmally—of course, he had been after the Philosopher's Stone then as well. And then there was that Crouch boy who got his soul sucked in the end and was of no more use to him. Even his formerly faithful servant Severus had tried…but who could ever know if he tried hard enough?

Never the matter. He would get it soon enough; he would be sending another in his stead to try their hand at retrieving this gift. And when he acquired it, then it too would be safely hidden with a slice of his soul inside.

The final gift he already had. It was Slytherin's locket, and he had turned it into a Horcrux not too soon before his fall.

That dreadful night he had lost to a mere baby he had planned to make another one. He had brought a special object along, just for the occasion. What better person to put to death for the making of a Horcrux than the very boy who was slated to kill him? But alas…that evening did not turn out quite as planned…and Voldemort's soul had been the only thing he had left. Even the object he had brought to make a Horcrux had been destroyed.

And so the years passed, as he grew in strength. After Wormtail found him, they took refuge in his father's old house. His fourth Horcrux, his beloved Nagini, was made through the death of a Muggle from the village. He then had four. Until, of course, his deathday party when that fool of a servant, Lucius Malfoy, told him that the Horcrux that had been explicitly entrusted to him had been given away to the Weasley girl and destroyed.

That was Lucius's first mistake.

For a while, he feared that he would never find the only objects that would work as Horcruxes. He turned his time, instead, to figuring out the rest of that long-awaited prophecy about him and the boy. The Horcruxes were important, yes…but they were only defenses after all. The prophecy, however…if he had been given the prophecy as was the plan, he would have an offense to create and build on. No more hiding away like common thieves and murderers. But their little tryst at the Department of Mysteries mere months ago had not gone as planned, either.

That was Lucius's second mistake.

So here he stood, only three living Horcruxes to his name. He had thought for a while to make four more instead of three, to compensate for the one that was destroyed. His plan, after all, had been to make seven Horcruxes. But no…six would be better. After all, there was his own soul as well, meaning his soul would be split into seven instead of eight. Only then could he become the greatest sorcerer of all time…

A monstrous roar split the air in the distance. Covered by mist and darkness, he saw only the light of several spells as his Death Eaters tried to tame the Isle's beasts. Terrified shouts mingled with the monsters' roars.

His snake-like mouth split into an evil grin.

Yes…this place was perfect. The only thing more fitting was if he had Hogwarts as well. Only then could he have Harry Potter within his grasp and Albus Dumbledore in his clutches.

But, patience…he would have them soon enough. The first attack on Hogwarts would take place before the Hogwarts Express even got to the castle, and more were planned as soon as term started again.

And what was more, he was sending a spy to Hogwarts.

It could not be simply any spy, of course. No…Dumbledore was smarter than that. This spy needed to have been there before, needed to know the lay-out, who could entrust himself within his enemy's inner circles…

But this spy would not be the only one. Lord Voldemort was no fool. And so, he had entrusted many eyes to watch Hogwarts this year. Because soon, he would overtake it. And he needed as much help from the inside as he could rally.

But this time…the spy wasn't Severus. In fact, Severus was the one who was being spied on this year. He could no longer trust Severus…ever since he failed to retrieve the third gift for his master, while his fellow Death Eaters were fighting at the Department of Mysteries. Dumbledore had come to fight as well, leaving Severus ample enough time to steal into the old wizard's office and remove the protections around it. But instead, he had come to their next meeting declaring failure, as Lucius had done only moments earlier. And so, he could no longer be trusted.

The Dark Lord sighed. Two of his most faithful servants. What a waste of wizarding intelligence.

Lucius was now in Azkaban, as was more of his Death Eaters. This made no matter—he had a plan that would soon break them all out again. But he was tempted to leave Lucius there quite a bit longer…make him think about his actions…and then he would be given one more chance. And if he failed this time, it wouldn't just be his own life to pay, but his wife and son. The young Malfoy boy would make a good Death Eater…perhaps he would give the boy a chance to redeem himself after he killed the boy's father and mother. He would send the boy to Hogwarts to be his new spy. But then again, perhaps not. After all, prices must be paid, and three mistakes called for three lives.

But another chance wasn't in the works for dear Severus. Because of his failure, the spy was to become the spied upon. And what was more, his master would be killing three dragons with one spell. Finding out if Severus was truly loyal to him, as well as sending someone to steal the third gift, and, before the year was up, to steal Harry Potter from his foolish master's clutches.

Harry Potter…was the key to everything. Without Harry, he could not succeed. And with Harry's death, he would make his three final Horcruxes.

But the boy was far too protected. Already Voldemort had tried and failed multiple times to secure the boy.

So a plan had been formed to capture the two friends that Harry Potter would do anything to rescue and protect.

Ronald Weasley, Pureblood…

And Hermione Granger. Mudblood.

His lip curled in disgust.

His Death Eaters were going to capture these two and bring them to these new headquarters. And Harry Potter of course would follow. If Voldemort succeeded in taking them, he would then have Potter. And with the sacrifice he had planned, Voldemort would be far more powerful, and much sooner than anticipated.

And this all had to happen on All Hallow's Eve. The night of purest magic, when evil was the most powerful.

And if did not work out according to plan…then he, at least, would live to kill the boy another day.

The roars of the monsters mingled with the roar of the sea, echoing in the coming autumn air.

Voldemort smiled, and looked out over his domain in the formerly-abandoned castle over the wild, untamed land of the Isle of Drear.

It was a dreary day.

A boy with black hair and round spectacles stood on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters facing the Hogwarts Express, about to embark upon his sixth year at Hogwarts. His name was Harry Potter and, like everyone else on that platform, he was a wizard.

Not just any wizard, though, he thought sarcastically as the dark skies rumbled with thunder. No, I have to be Harry bleeding Potter, the bloody Boy Who Lived. I have to go off saving people all the time and be trailed by guards everywhere and have a murderer after me every step of the way. I can't just be like everyone else.

For once I want to know what it's like to be normal…

Around him, students were bidding tearful goodbyes to their families, wondering if they were ever going to see them again. Harry, however, did not have this dilemma. His only living relatives, the exceptionally Muggle Dursleys, would never have lowered themselves to wish Harry good luck. Just imagining them waving to him in this magical setting as they stood amongst witches and wizards made Harry laugh.

There were two pops next to him.

"What is this, I hear? A cheerful sound amidst our own darkening gloom?" said Fred.

George replied, "Quoth me, a noise I haven't heard since our own youth..."

"Hullo. I thought you two couldn't make it?" Harry asked them both.

"We decided to come see the younger generation off on their dangerous, treacherous, lecherous journey—" said George.

"—of which you will be taking a part of—" said Fred.

"Hang on," Harry broke in with a chuckle. "Who said anything about it being dangerous? What, you reckon just because I'm on board—"

To his astonishment, however, Fred and George looked at each other, suddenly worried.

"Excuse us, Harry—"

"—I believe Ron has —"

"—er, nose-hairs to be plucked—"

"—quite right!"

As they walked away, George reached over and whacked Fred on the head. Harry was left alone to wonder about the odd behaviour of the twins, the treacherous journey he apparently had to undertake, and Ron's ginger nose-hairs.

"Oy—what're you—stop staring at my nose! Bugger off, you two!" said Ron irritably. Fred and George had rushed at him after their conversation with Harry, weird and annoying as usual.

"Aw, is ickle Ronnie-kins embarrassed?"

"No wonder! Look at the size of that thing!"

Ron swatted at them and hugged Mum, if only to hide his red face.

"…and you be careful, do you hear me? That goes for you too, Ginny! I will not be awakened in the middle of the night with the knowledge that you've run off to face You-Know-Who, again. I simply won't have it this time! And Ron, mind you're taking your potion every night. I'll have Hermione owl me if you don't," she said, wiping at her face.

"Mum, you don't have to be so loud," he moaned. "I'll take it, all right?"

"Now, now, Molly, no need to humiliate him," said Dad, hugging Ron tight. He said quietly, into his ear, "She is right, you know. Don't you be running off like last time. And don't tell him I said this, but look after Harry. He's going to have a hard time of it this year, now the wizarding world knows about Vol…Volde…oh, You-Know-Who-I'm-Talking-Of. And I know you don't often get along with her, but I think Hermione would profit the most from your friendship this year. Molly's told me she thinks Hermione is—er—that is to say, I think that girl is—ah, well, you'll find out. She is a dear girl. Be a gentleman."

Ron's ears were red as he pulled away. Unfortunately, the twins had heard this last.

"But Brother George! Dost mine ears deceive me?" said Fred.

"I durst say they don't! Why, Brother Frederick, I do believe that—" said George.

"—it must be true, that—"

"—Ickle Ronnie fancies Hermione!" they chorused.

Ron spluttered. "I don't—I'm not—I would never—!"

"Knock it off, you two," Dad said sharply to them.

They began to protest, but Ron was no longer listening. He looked over at Hermione, who was hugging her parents goodbye with a smile on her face. She looked rather nice today—she was smiling, her skin tanner than usual, she was wearing a rather pretty blouse—

That's preposterous! I don't…like…her. She's my friend…same as Harry…she's always been my friend…

"He's just a friend, Mother, please," said Hermione. She desperately hoped her mother didn't talk too loud—what if Ron heard?

Mother smiled. "If you say so, my dear. But your father and I are getting along in years. We would like to see some grandchildren before we die."

Hermione grew pink.

Dad chuckled. "Now, Cordelia, you made her blush. And if I ever saw some grandchildren, it would be too soon! I would rather she grow up an old maid than to fall in love with a beau at her age! She's my little girl, and I'm not too keen on giving her up."

Hermione hugged her dad tight. "I'll miss you, Dad," she whispered. "And you don't have to worry—I can be your little girl for a while longer."

She buried her face into his shirt, and breathed in deeply. He always smelled of spice and mint toothpaste, and every time she hugged him, it soothed her. He nestled his own head in her curls—brown, just like his.

"David, she does need to be going," her mother said. "How I wish your sister could be here for this…"

Hermione felt a pang in her heart. Her older sister Gertrude had died when Hermione was a baby, but it was still a tender subject for them. And for Mother to be thinking about her now while Hermione was leaving them again made her feel all the more guilty.

"Yes...yes, she would be so proud of everything you have done, my little Neenie," Dad said, using her baby name. "But she is watching over you now and will take great care of you. Never you fret."

Hermione released him, wiping at the tears on her cheeks. She turned to her mother.

"Hermione," said Mother. "I will miss you! The both of us will. And if you do decide to start a relationship this year—oh, shush, David—then be sure it's only to the best of young men. And remember our talk over the summer. Never let anyone take advantage of you—"

"Mother!"

"Oh, love, I need a hug now."

Hermione sighed and hugged her mum.

"Delia, darling, she does need to be going," said Dad, teasing her mum.

"Give everyone my love when you see them!" said Hermione, trying not to cry. "And I promise I'll be home for Christmas this year! I know it wasn't fair to you for me to spend half my summer with the Weasleys—"

"Never fret, darling. We only want you to be happy," said Mother.

But for some reason, even though she was going off to Hogwarts, Hermione couldn't feel happy. The only thing she felt at the moment mirrored the skies threatening to spill above—sad.

Sad and dreary.

It was rather sad and dreary having to say goodbye to the twins and Bill and Charlie, Ginny thought. Percy wasn't there, of course. He tried on several occasions to apologize to the family, but they all knew he only half-meant what he was saying.

"Never would've expected that from He-Who-Sucketh-Up," Fred had muttered.

As it was, Ginny had enjoyed the summer too much to really look forward to going back to Hogwarts this year. She was too afraid of leaving her family. Attacks had been made all summer—what if they were next?

"Never you worry about us, Gin-Gin," said Bill, tweaking her hair. She grimaced at the childish pet name he used. "We'll be all right."

"Of course we will," Charlie agreed, winking. "And I've got a surprise for you this year—just wait till you see her—"

"Her? Is it a girl then? Don't tell me one of you prats actually landed a girlfriend!" Ginny teased.

Bill and Charlie shared amused grins. "Oh…it's a girl all right…"

"Well, when can I meet her? Have you proposed? Is there a wedding date set? Am I finally going to have a sister?"

Bill roared with laughter. Charlie, meanwhile tried to calm her down.

"Listen, Gin, you mustn't tell anyone, all right? But she's…rather fiery. I daren't bring her around just yet," he said.

Ginny saw students boarding the train, and gave them both tight hugs.

"You be careful, Gin," said Bill over her head. "Don't give us a reason to come save you, now—and we will, too, we're both in the Order. I don't care what Harry says this time—he's a good chap, and I love him like a brother, and he did save you…and Dad…and Ron…but I don't want you blindly following anyone."

Ginny opened her mouth to protest, but Charlie agreed.

"We've been able to tell for a while that you like him. Don't worry—we haven't told anyone—whatever the matter, use your head. If you have to save him, then do it, but don't go leaving Hogwarts for any sort of midnight excursions," Charlie said as they hugged. "Well…I suppose romantic rendezvous are all right, but not the dangerous kind! And this is coming from me, you understand, which goes to show how serious I am."

She rolled her eyes and rushed off to the train.

"And Ginny!" Charlie called after her. "Slaughter the Slytherins in Quidditch this year, won't you?"

She sighed and grinned wickedly. "That's my job!"

"But that's my job!"

"Not while you're at school, it isn't—"

Neville couldn't stop looking at the quarrelling pair. It was a mother with her daughter who couldn't have been more than a year or two younger than him. They both had black hair and dark skin, and the girl had startling gray eyes that Neville couldn't look away from—he swore he'd seen them before, only on someone else...

She suddenly glanced up at him and glared. He tore his eyes away and looked over at his grandmother, growing pink. He hoped she hadn't thought he was staring—that was rather rude, he should have known better—

"What has got you all of a dither, Neville?" said Gran sternly from behind him. "I would think you'd miss me more, being away so long. Who were you staring at? Not the Freemans, I hope? That Aletha Freeman has got some nerve, showing up here with that child! Born out of wedlock, she was. And nobody has a clue who the child's father is. A Muggle, I expect. I simply don't know how she passed on the gene…"

It was no use arguing with her. She had a mouth to talk the horns off an erumpent.

"Yes, Gran," said Neville miserably. His arms were full of his bags as he followed her to the train.

"Excuse me!"

He stopped.

The black girl—Freeman, Gran called her—was standing in front of him, tapping her foot on the pavement. Her face held a soured expression, and in her arms she held a toad.

"Oh no, did he escape again?" said Neville, putting his trunk down and reaching out to take him.

Freeman didn't let him. "Did you have some poor excuse for staring at me earlier, or were you dropped on your head as a baby?"

He blinked. "Erm...sorry...you just...reminded me of someone, is all..."

Her brow quirked. "Oh, really? Who?"

"Well, I don't really know," he stammered. "That's why I was staring. I was trying to figure it out...I'm rather sorry..."

The girl sighed. "Oh, well, it could happen to anyone, I suppose. Here's your toad, by the way."

Startled by the sudden change of emotion, Neville looked at her.

"You're rather strange, you know," he blurted out. At once he blushed. Gran had raised him better than that...insulting someone he'd just met...

She stuck out her tongue, making her look several years younger. "Am not!"

"Er. Sorry. Anyway, I'm Neville. Neville Longbottom." He stuck his hand out suddenly.

She scrutinized it before slowly holding out her own small, slender one, toad and all. "Meghan. Meghan Freeman."

White hand met black around Trevor the Toad, and they shook.

With shaking hands, Luna of Ravenclaw took the item her father held out to her. "But Daddy—I can't—"

Most all the students were already on the train, and parents and family members Disapparated or disappeared through the platform wall one by one. A few of them, however, still remained.

"Yes, you can. It was your mother's, and she would want you to have it," said Gerald Lovegood, with a sad smile.

She stroked the small orb in the middle of the tiara with her finger. It was miniscule—barely bigger than a Knut or a Blibbering Humdinger—and it hung in the middle of the silvery middle spike. If she peered into the swirling silvery depths of the orb long enough, she could even make out shapes—a train, a raven, a cloak…

Slipping it onto her head, Luna smiled as a feeling of safety settled over her. "I'll miss you, Daddy. I love you. Don't find the Snorkack without me!"

Her father grinned and hugged her. "Of course I won't. Be the best person you can be. Go change the world."

"You too, Daddy," she said, smiling and hugging him back.

Over her father's shoulder, she saw Draco Malfoy standing in the shadows with his mother. His father was nowhere to be seen…Luna suspected this was because his father was in prison now. With worried glances around them, Narcissa Malfoy pressed something into Draco's hand, and he looked at her in disbelief before taking it.

Luna could hear snatches of their conversation with her finely-tuned ears. Words like "…be careful…" "…make sure no one sees you…" and "…this mission was entrusted to you…" were audible.

And then Draco Malfoy looked up, his gray eyes boring right into Luna's own silver ones. She stared at him, unabashedly, not bothering to look away. Their silent contest was broken when the whistle blew.

When the whistle blew, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all hurried to board the train, and met Neville and Luna just before getting on.

Harry noticed that this was the first time they were all together since they risked their lives for him. He suddenly felt a lump in his throat, and opened his mouth to say something—

"Well? What are you all standing around for? Get a bloody move on!" snapped Draco Malfoy from behind them. He and the dark girl Neville saw earlier were glaring at them. They were the last ones left on the platform.

The whistle blew once more, and Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, Draco Malfoy, and Meghan Freeman all boarded the Hogwarts Express.

Little did they know that they would be thrown together more than once before the year's end.