A/N: Hullo. Welcome to my first and only full-length story. Written before Deathly Hallows was published (so no spoilers), it is my version of Book 7, written using the hints mentioned in the first 6 books.

I hope you enjoy reading this - I enjoyed writing it.

And on with the show...

Chapter 1 – Destiny

Harry Potter lay still, wondering where he was. It was too dark to see anything and there was a soft yet somewhat worrying growling sound coming from the far side of the room. Harry strained his memory but the last thing he could remember was dancing with Ginny at Bill and Fleur's wedding party. The familiar thick blanket of guilt washed over him as he realised that yet again he had probably put others in danger by just being around them. In frustration he tried to turn onto his side, but a sudden sharp pain in his shoulder stopped him abruptly. Harry gasped his breath back and gingerly raised his right hand to his left shoulder. It hurt to touch and the bones didn't feel as though they were in quite the right place. He groaned and flopped back onto the bed. Soon he was asleep again and the only sounds were his soft breathing and the faint growls from the animal watching him.

Harry awoke sometime later. As consciousness settled in, Harry became aware again of the growling. Bright light was searing through to his eyes, so Harry opened them somewhat reluctantly. He glanced around the room, recognising it immediately as his friend Ron Weasley's room, and felt instantly lighter and more cheerful. The growling was in fact purring emitted by Crookshanks, who was curled happily in the lap of a sleeping girl with fiery red hair. Harry sat up suddenly, only to be forcibly reminded of the pain in his shoulder and he yelled out in anguish. Crookshanks leapt from his perch and Ginny jolted awake with a start. "Harry!" she cried, rushing to the side of his bed. "You've been asleep for ages!"

"Have I?" Harry was more confused than he had been earlier, and still couldn't fathom why his shoulder was hurting. "What happened?"

"There was another Dementor attack," Ginny told him matter-of-factly. "Don't worry, everyone's fine. But don't you remember? You helped to drive them away. You had the most amazing Patronus."

Harry thought hard to dredge some memory of the previous day but nothing useful came to mind, certainly nothing to do with Dementors. He shook his head, defeated. Something wasn't quite right.

"I don't remember anything about Dementors." He looked around Ron's untidy room. "How come I'm here? Where's everyone else? Why does my shoulder hurt?" Ginny looked down at him, her expression a mixture of sympathy and amusement.

"You're here because you seemed to be okay and it seemed a better idea for you to stay with us rather than go home to your uncle unconscious, or to risk taking you to St Mungo's. Everyone else has gone back to work, except Bill and Fleur who left for Siberia this morning, and Ron and Hermione are in Diagon Alley with Mum. Your shoulder hurts because the Patronuses apparently conflicted with the magic holding the marquee. It collapsed… it sort of squashed you." She grinned a little sheepishly.

"What?"

"The marquee. For the wedding party. You remember?"

"I remember the party. I remember dancing… " Harry shook his head again, as if trying to clear it.

"Do you want some breakfast?" Ginny had stood up. Harry noticed she was wearing his shirt from earlier and observed how it looked so much better on her. He lay just looking at her for apparently some time, as she suddenly said, "I'm going to get some breakfast. Shout if you want anything." She left the room, leaving the door open. Harry stared at the ceiling and wondered why the whole Weasley family had thought it appropriate to leave Ginny alone in the house with so many Dark wizards on the loose. Surely there was someone else who could have stayed just in case something happened? Harry wouldn't have been much use asleep. Thinking about it made him angry, but being angry made his shoulder throb, so he sighed and closed his eyes instead, and Crookshanks began to purr.

A while later, Harry found himself joined by his friends as he sat in bed with a tray of cold chicken and salad resting on his legs. He was picking at the salad but not really eating it as he and Ginny listened to Ron telling them about the state of Diagon Alley.

"No where's open. There's a sign on the door of Eeylops saying it's gone out of business – I bet no-one's using owls anymore in case they get intercepted - and Flourish and Blotts is empty. Apparently all Hogwarts books will be sent directly to the school. Ollivander's is still closed, and Madam Malkin's. Gringotts is open but the goblins are hardly letting anyone in. Fred and George are still open o'course, but they've had to remove all items that could be dangerous in the hands of dark wizards on orders of the Ministry, so they've only got Muggle magic tricks and a few trick wands. Just when people could use a bit of cheering up."

Ron slumped onto the end of Harry's bed and joined him in picking at the salad. Ginny and Hermione exchanged a pitying look before returning to the copy of the Prophet they'd been sharing.

"Anyone else died?" Ron monotoned, and Harry got the feeling this was a daily exercise in the Weasley house.

"Yesterday there were Dementor attacks in Ottery-St-Catchpole…" Hermione read (Ron snorted), "…and in Little Whinging, Surrey…" Hermione looked sharply at Harry. Harry also looked up to find the three of them staring at him, almost accusatorily.

"It wasn't me," he said, part joke, part to make them stop looking at him like that. Hermione looked flustered.

"No of course, Harry, we know that. It's just… well they know where you live now, don't they?"

"They knew before," Harry reminded her, but Ron and Ginny also started to look uncomfortable. Hermione pressed on:

"You'll be 17 next week Harry. You wont be safe there anymore."

"Well I'm not safe anywhere, am I?" Harry retorted, a little more loudly than he'd meant to. The truth was, he knew he wasn't safe anywhere or with anyone. He knew that having people around him put them in danger. He knew that until he'd killed Voldemort once and for all, he could have neither home nor friends. He knew all this, but thinking about it made him hurt in places that couldn't be healed. He started eating the chicken to occupy himself while Ron started fidgeting with the bedclothes and Ginny went back to reading the newspaper. Hermione continued to stare at Harry, as if trying to read his mind. Harry was quite sure she hadn't mastered Legilimency, but occluded his mind anyway. Harry had spent a lot of time over the past couple of weeks practising both Occlumency and Legilimency, as all other practical magic would be detected by the ministry and Harry was still underage. He knew that Ron and Hermione had both been practising defensive spells and counter-curses. That he of all people wasn't allowed was ludicrous. Still, less than a month to go, he thought.

The silence was broken by Ginny's cry of "Oh no!" As everyone turned to her, she looked up, distressed. "Professor Flitwick's gone missing!" Hermione snatched the paper and scanned it rapidly.

"... Filius Flitwick, teacher of charms at Hogwarts was recommended to be Deputy Headmaster at the school when it reopens in September…"

"So it will be open then," Ginny clarified.

"…Suspicion was first aroused when he missed his interview for the post at the Ministry of Magic. His home has been searched, and there is no indication whatsoever as to his whereabouts or whether he left of his own free will. The professor has not been seen since the end of last term. Anyone with information should contact the Ministry." Hermione stopped reading and chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. "But what would they want with Flitwick?"

Harry, Ron and Ginny were saved from having to answer this as the door was flung open by Mrs Weasley.

"All of you, out!" She lifted Ginny by her shoulders and headed for Ron, who jumped up to avoid being manhandled by his fuming mother. Hermione hurried out followed by Ginny, who was rubbing her sore shoulders, and glanced at Harry before shutting the door after Ron. Mrs Weasley stood over Harry, glaring at the wall with her hands on her hips.

"Mrs Weasley?" Harry ventured nervously.

Molly Weasley let out a great sigh and tried to compose herself. She smiled at Harry. "Apparently the Healers are too busy to see you dear." She fumbled on the floor by Harry's bed and passed him his clothes, which, Harry noticed, has been cleaned and pressed. "Put these on. I'm afraid you'll have to go to a Muggle doctor. You know I don't agree with this, but since the injury isn't magical…" she trailed off. "I've got to take you back to your aunt and uncle's. You've done Side-Along-Apparition before, haven't you dear?" She waited for Harry to nod before she left, closing the door behind her. As Harry climbed gingerly out of bed he heard Mrs Weasley mumbling down the stairs, "Got time to see Doris Crockford, but not Harry Potter… Confused priorities…"

Harry got dressed as quickly as he could, moving his shoulder as little as possible. Minutes later he had said goodbye to Ron, Ginny and Hermione, and arrived back in Privet Drive. Mrs Weasley waited until Harry was safely inside the house before Disapparating. Harry was relieved to find that his relatives were not at home. He telephoned the doctor and made an appointment for the next morning. Having replaced the receiver, Harry sighed and trudged upstairs to his bedroom. It was still three weeks until his birthday and Harry was itching to work on his magic. Instead, he spent hours pouring over magic theory, researching defensive spells, and practising Occlumency. He found the best way to practise Legilimency was on his cousin Dudley. Harry would pick opportune moments to talk to Dudley (usually when uncle Vernon was not within earshot) and ask him questions like "So what did you do last night, Dud?" To which Dudley would reply "Mind your own business," then spend the next few minutes in silence, thinking of what he did do. These were the moments when Harry tried to access his cousin's thoughts. To Harry's delight, they were becoming clearer. He would, however, have to practice on someone else at some stage, as he doubted any Dark Wizard's mind would be as easy to penetrate as the mind of Dudley Dursley… perhaps with the exception of Crabbe and Goyle.

He also met regularly with Hermione, who had passed her Apparition test already, so met Harry at Privet Drive. At first Vernon had refused to allow her to enter, but Harry assured him, untruthfully, that Hermione had no magical powers. Hermione told Vernon herself that both her parents were dentists, and they often went on skiing holidays, and Vernon finally relented. Hermione brought with her new spell books, and ideas on how to locate the remaining four Horcruxes. She also brought news from the wizarding world, from which Harry found himself yet again separated.

Harry lay back on his bed and closed his eyes. Hedwig was nipping the bars of her cage in an agitated manner, but Harry couldn't let her out too often in case she was recognised and followed back to Harry. He hit the bed in frustration with his uninjured arm and tried hard to piece together what had happened the evening before. He could remember Bill and Fleur's wedding – Mrs Weasley had been in tears throughout – and then going to a party in the evening. He spent a lot of time laughing with Ginny, Ron and Hermione, and had even danced a bit. No matter how hard he tried, Harry couldn't remember anything past that. According to Ginny, Dementors had come in swarms. As soon as they knew, everyone had rushed to help. Ginny's Patronus was quite weak, so Harry had told her to stay back while he and Lupin, among several other guests, fought the Dementors away. In the confusion, nobody had noticed that the marquee was falling down around them. Ginny said she had called out to Harry but he hadn't heard her, and didn't look up in time to see the canopy crashing down onto him. No wonder his shoulder hurt, Harry thought, that arena was enormous! It had held a vast number of people, most of whom had approached Harry at some point or other to introduce themselves to the Chosen One, even if a lot of them still thought he was a bit mad. Overall, the evening had been a bit of a catastrophe on any level. Harry was particularly disappointed as he was hoping to have a very important discussion with Lupin about his plans for the coming year. Having mulled it over for a while, Harry was now positive that he would not return to Hogwarts to complete his final year. Instead, he would put all his efforts into finishing the work that Dumbledore had started, to annihilate the Dark Wizard who had already caused so much harm and destruction. Harry had put off thinking about the death of Dumbledore every day since it had happened. He had been much more than a head teacher to Harry; he had been a mentor, providing constant support and guidance, even love. In the end, it had been this that killed him, just as it had been so with Harry's parents, and with Sirius. Unable to contain it any longer, Harry screwed his eyes up tight in a vain attempt to prevent thousands of tears falling down his cheeks and onto his pillow. He wanted to end all this, he needed to finish it. It was his destiny.

Severus Snape was facing one of the most miserable periods of his life. As soon as was humanly possible, he had arranged for Draco and Narcissa Malfoy to be hidden so they were safe from the Dark Lord, who would no doubt punish them for Draco's failure in the first task set for him by his Master. Snape himself was hiding from the wizarding world because if he were recognised he would find himself in Azkaban faster than you could say Avada Kedavra. He was also avoiding the Dark Lord himself as much as possible, who was losing patience with Snape for concealing the Malfoys' whereabouts. Following the incident at Hogwarts, Snape had immediately returned his home in Spinner's End, grasping a very white and unusually quiet Draco by the arm. He had collected a few important personal items from the house before hurrying to the Malfoy Manor. With a few sharp words to Narcissa, he'd sent them away to his own personal safe house. He'd only needed to use it once before, many years ago, but maintained its magic just in case he ever needed to use it again. It was a house on a rock in the sea; small, very cold, and extremely uncomfortable, but protected by every sort of concealment, protection and secrecy charm, curse and spell that Snape knew. By the time any wizard had broken through half of these, Snape would have been alerted and had ample time to escape. It was here that Narcissa and her son now lived, the latter sulky, frightened and impatient, his mother in a constant flow of nervous tears.

As for Snape, his new home was in the Muggle village of Little Hangleton. Lord Voldemort, who wanted to keep an eye on him, had placed him there. Although Snape had his own house, he was frequently called upon to meet with The Dark Lord in the manor, where he currently resided with Pettigrew. Voldemort was certain that the only person who'd guess he would be hiding here was dead at last. This may have been the reason he wasn't so vigilant about hiding himself and his supporters as he would otherwise have been. To the Muggles, the house was both deserted and haunted. Few members of the wizarding world knew of the building's existence, and those that did would have long forgotten that murder occurred there over 50 years ago.

The problem faced by Severus Snape was that he was no longer much use to Lord Voldemort, as he was no longer in a position to pass on information from the Order of the Phoenix. He was also angering the Dark Lord with his continuing protection of Draco Malfoy, for whom he had always carried a certain fondness. Thirdly, he believed the defeat of Voldemort was becoming increasingly unlikely, concordantly to be considered important by the Dark Lord was increasingly essential. It therefore made sense to stay on the Dark side rather than fight it, which would inevitably end in death. On the other hand, what was Voldemort planning to do when he had control of the country? Snape expected he would move on to other countries, reaching his power farther. He also suspected that Voldemort might try to make his presence know to the Muggles, to exist without secrecy – to terrorise them and make them inferior to wizards. Although Severus didn't necessarily agree with this, he knew there was no turning back now. His only option was to remain with Voldemort. However, he could either continue to do the Dark Lord's bidding, trying vainly, as the other Death Eaters did, to be valued and respected above the others. Or, he could take a risk and expand his services by taking matters into his own hands, using his initiative. This would prove him more useful for future plans, and Snape envisaged having power of his own, rather than serving under another wizard for the rest of his life. Of course it could all go terribly wrong, and Snape didn't fancy either possible result of this - Voldemort's displeasure or Azkaban - but Snape was not a coward. He was not afraid of the Dark Lord as many others were, in the same way he had never been afraid of Dumbledore. He was certainly not afraid of Potter.