Harry Potter and the Rebellion of the Dark

The Real Start

A/N: I wished I owned Harry Potter, but I don't.

The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole, England: July 24, 1996, 1500 hrs.

Harry Potter was sitting on a couch in the comfortable home, the Burrow, reading the newspaper that fit perfectly with his cup of hot cocoa. Smiling to himself, he knew that the Ministry was well aware of Voldemort's return and Fudge had almost resigned immediately. With Amelia Bones's home found raided, probably by Voldemort's Death Eaters, she was instantly transferred to a safer location inside the Ministry of Magic.

The best part about it? Apparently, Sirius had been found laying inside his home at Grimmauld Place. Nobody knew how, also, Harry saw Sirius fall through the Veil, but the old Marauder had his way.

Harry was half-expecting Sirius to visit him in the Burrow. His hearing would take place the next day. Harry understood that with Death Eaters on the loose, Sirius could be found and tortured for Harry's location. But he still missed his godfather. He had to visit Grimmauld Place very soon, as much as he loathed the old place with the eerie decorations.

Harry's happiness wouldn't be touched. The vile toad, a filthy excuse for a teacher and a waste of space, Dolores Umbridge, would also have her trial shortly after Sirius's hearing. He was needed at Sirius's trial to give the testimony for Sirius's emancipation. Harry would have to stay as the witness for Umbridge's trial, but as long as the woman got what she deserved, he was going to do it.

Harry, at the corner of his eyes, noticed Fleur walking down from the second floor. She looked angry, and Harry had a negative vibe about it, but he still had yet to confirm his suspicions.

"Fleur, what gave you that face?" He asked the blonde-haired Veela. He knew her power to accidentally let slip from her control when she felt extreme emotions. It was strange, but he was resistant to her powers, whether it was kept to a minimum or at full blast. Speaking of resistance, Ron, who was nearby, immediately dropped his mug and stared at her off-limits area. Harry swatted Ron's arm to show respect for the older girl, but this did not shake the boy off his daze and stood up to walk to Fleur.

"Ron, what the bloody hell are you doing?" Harry, knowing that underage wizards can use magic in Wizarding homes, cast an Aguamenti at his red-headed friend.

"Huh-wuzzgoinon?" The redhead muttered stupidly, then took off his clothes, still in a daze, and wrung them and stalked off the living room.

"Sorry about him," Harry said sheepishly. "I've been trying to tell him to at least try to resist it, even a little bit, but I guess people just wouldn't budge sometimes."

Fleur nodded. "So I guess I'll have to get used to the idiot drooling every time I walk into the room?" She asked.

"From the way he's going, I'm afraid you're going to have to do that," he admitted. "Speaking of that, what made you so angry that your control accidentally slipped?"

"Do you know that other redhead witch? I think her name was Ginevra?"

Harry nodded. "Ginevra Molly Weasley. The most rabid Boy-Who-Lived fangirl. Yes, I know her indeed. But that doesn't mean I like her too," he replied simply.

Fleur thought about that. She thought that Harry liked Ginny too. Well, until now. She knew now that Harry had zero interest in Ginny Weasley. She could take her next step, which involved trying to slowly gain control over Harry. Now that she knew that he would give her sympathy every time she claimed that Ginny had insulted her behind her back. Yes, it would be easier.

Slowly she made a step towards Harry, who rose up and grabbed his mug with him. The young wizard made a dash for the kitchen, almost dropping the mug on the way.