New Order

Harry Potter woke suddenly from a deep sleep, his bright green eyes snapping open to scan the darkened bedroom. Beside him Ginny stretched, before curling back against his side, her breathing deep and even as she slept. Reaching out to the nightstand beside the bed he scooped up his wand and his glasses, unable to shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Slipping his glasses on he reached out with his free hand to take his wife’s and gently slip it from where it lay curled on his chest.

“Mm…? What’s wrong Harry?” She muttered quietly, her voice thick with the sleep that still clung to her.

Harry looked down to see the long, soft red mane of hair framing a slender, beautiful face. Her half-opened brown eyes looking at him with groggy concern.

“Nothing sweetheart, go back to sleep. I’m just going to go get something to drink.” He said quietly, not wanting to worry her. He slid out from under the thick, warm comforter and put his feet down on the cold, wooden floor. A chill traveled the length of his spine, and for a moment, he thought bullocks to whatever he had felt. The protection charms hadn’t gone off, the night was bitter cold and he wanted nothing more than to curl up against her form and return to his sleeping.

Ginny offered him a warm smile and nodded. A soft tired moan leaving her lips as she rolled over and pulled the blankets up tightly around her chin.

Reluctantly, he pushed himself from the warmth of his bed, and the arms of his beautiful wife, whom he still loved as much as the day they had first kissed. It was his love for her that pushed him out into the frigid, November air. Pulling his thick, monogrammed bathrobe off a nearby rack he pulled it around his shoulders and synched the belt tight, before giving one final, longing glance to his wife and starting out of the room.

He moved across the hallway and down the stairs on silent feet. Years as an Auror had taught him to move silently, even when he was in a hurry. Bright green eyes scanned every doorway and room of his home, trying to see something out of place. Casting spells every few minutes to dispel any disillusion charms or other concealment spells that an intruder may have cast on themselves. Despite the silence that surrounded him, he could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. The sound of wind whistling and howling through the kitchen caught his attention, and brought him silently to the doorway. Harry felt the little warmth he had gained from walking wash away from him as his eyes fell upon the contents of the room.

A group of men in tight, dark clothing carrying muggle weapons Harry had almost forgotten existed stood in a center of the kitchen, the table had been turned onto it‘s side, the chairs moved against the walls.

His mind filled with defensive and offensive enchantments, his hand and mouth moved to assist in verbalizing them even before he had finished thinking them. Harry’s wand swept across the group of them as he cast a bodily petrifaction upon the intruders. Even as he cast to neutralize the threat, he placed barrier after protective barrier on himself.

The spells hit their intended targets with a flash of white light that illuminated the moonlit kitchen for an instant before sending everything into darkness once again. Harry was relieved to see that each man in turn was dropped, harmlessly to the floor.

With the immediate threat neutralized, Harry turned to rush from the room and toward the stairs, his mind buzzing with unanswered questions and half formulated plans. Who are these men? Why are they in my home? How did they get through the barriers? Why didn’t the protection Charms go off when they were breached? How did they even find this place!? I have to wake Ginny and get her out of here.

Ginny. The thought of men threatening his beautiful wife cause a surge of rage, and panic to run through Harry. His bare feet sprang to life, as he broke into a full on sprint. He had to know that she was alright; that she was safe.

Harry felt pain explode through his head, emanating from his jaw. In what felt like the blink of an eye, his feet were no longer under him; his back met the cold, hard wooden floor. The flat surface clapped across his ribs and knocked the wind from his lungs. Gasping as his breath escaped him, bright white flashes of light still exploding in front of his eyes from the force of the blow, he tried to piece together what had just happened.

From his vantage point on the floor, his wavering bright green eyes locked onto a man standing over him. The butt of his gun still poised at where Harry was sure his head had been before the blow had taken him off his feet. Slowly raising his wand he pointed it at the man‘s weapon. Expelliarmus! His mind screamed as he silently cast in an effort to catch his attacker off guard. While silent casting had never been his strongest area, years as an Auror had taught him to excel even in his weakest fields; so the wizard found himself agape as the man’s weapon did not move. It did not even hint at it.

Time slowed to a crawl around Harry, as the looming figure reached up with his gloved hand and pulled up the facemask that obscured his features. He had a wide, square jaw and square head. His black hair was cropped short, with a bit of grey visible just behind the temples on back to his ears. The man’s dull grey eyes stared down at Harry emotionlessly. “Your magic won’t work on me, freak.” He said calmly, a slight Russian accent mingling into his words.

Harry gulped desperately for air, but his lungs seemed to have forgotten how to take it in. He shakily lifted his wand again. His mind chanted a dozen different spells, trying find one that would penetrate what ever magical protection the muggle had, but nothing happened.

Slowly and methodically, like a panther playing with its cornered prey, the man leveled the barrel of his weapon down at Harry’s face, and fear gripped the wizard’s heart.

“Sir! We’ve apprehended the woman upstairs, but there’s no sign of any others.” Came a voice from inside the house.

G-Ginny!? Harry’s mind jumped from one conclusion to the next as he wondered what they could possibly want with him, or Ginny. Magic was failing him, and he had no idea why. He didn’t have long to ponder, as the last thing he had time to realize, was a flash of light from the muzzle of the gun that was aimed at his head. He never even heard the weapon’s crack before everything went black.