Disclaimer: Nothing is mine , I don't own Harry Potter, JKR does.

Harry potter and the tide of war

A cool breeze stirred around Privet Drive. The leaves on every identical hedge shivered. A cool breeze was nothing out of the ordinary on Privet Drive, if it was, the residents committee would no doubt do everything in their power to get it banned.

What was out of the ordinary was a tall man in black robes flanked by two unknown associates walking regally down the street at midnight.

The man stopped suddenly and extended a long skeletal arm. He appeared as if he was caressing the very air before him.

He turned to the companion on his right.

'I can feel the wards Bella, they will be no challenge'

Bellatrix felt his cold blood red stare and suppressed a shiver.

'of course not my lord, never for you my lord'

He reached into his robes and pulled out a long serpentine dagger. Slowly tracing it across his palm, he exerted enough pressure to draw a trickle of blood. He imprinted his palm on his brow and hissed an incantation. The street was bathed in a ruby red glow.

'Come' he hissed, 'it is time'

The snakelike figure of Lord Voldemort strode in the direction of number four. With a casual flick of his wand he dispatched of the slumbering form of Hestia Jones. The Dark Lord paced up the driveway and with a wave of his wand unlocked the door.

Harry Potter lay on his bed in number four Privet Drive. Sleep eluded him not for the first time this summer.

He had expected the anger, he had expected the sense of loss, he had expected the self pity. What he didn't expect was to be over it so soon. Sirius was a great part of his life, but in all of two years he had a grand total of six real conversations with the man. It made him feel ashamed that he wasn't a complete emotional wreck but the simple truth was he didn't have time to drown himself is sorrow.

The prophecy had hit him hard, but in a sense he wasn't all that surprised. His whole wizarding life had always come back to the one problem. Voldemort. The name made his head spin with rage. He was the root of it all, and Harry was determined to get at least some semblance of revenge.

There lay the problem, Voldemort was extremely powerful and infinitely more experienced than himself.

He needed to train, he needed to learn, he needed to find out what that bloody "power he knows not" business was.

Harry sat up on the bed and sighed, 'looks as though we wont get any sleep tonight either Hedwig'. The owl in question looked up and hooted reproachfully before nestling back under her wing. Harry chuckled and reached for a Defence book that Hermione had bought him.

His uncle was a lot more malleable to his wishes after his welcome party at the station. Harry inwardly laughed at the memory of Vernon trying to keep calm at the idea of being seen in public with such…..distasteful people.

Vernon and Petunia had decided that an early birthday present for Dudley was in order so they had reluctantly left Harry on his own in number four. This suited Harry fine as he got to watch the T.V without a hulking behemoth shoving him of the couch for only the third time in his life.

He was halfway through a chapter about "questionable" curses when out of the corner of his eye he spotted a bright red flash coming from the direction of the park. He cautiously looked out the window when he saw a flash of emerald green.

'blood wards my arse Dumbledore'

Harry snatched his wand and invisibility cloak and crept downstairs intent on escaping out the back door. He was at the foot of the stairs when the front door swung open revealing a very familiar serpentine face.

Harry's only thought was 'oh bugger'.