Harry Potter and the Death Eater's March

1. The Potter Family Estate

Harry Potter

and the Death Eater's March

by

Heather Sinclair

Heather@buffysboudoir.com

Spoilers: Order of the Phoenix

Pairings: H/Hr, R/Luna

Rating: PG-13 Parents Strongly Cautioned.
This story contains some material that many parents would find unsuitable for children under 13 years of age. Parents are strongly urged to exercise greater care in, and are cautioned against letting children under the age of 13 read this story unattended. This story contains one or more of the following: intense violence, intense sexual situations, strong coarse language, or intensely suggestive dialogue.

Disclaimer: This story, and any content relating to the Harry Potter franchise is not authorized by J.K. Rowling, or Scholastic Press. I own my computer ... Can I have Harry and Hermione instead?

Read the story in the author's intended format at

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HSHPFF/

Fonts: This story is best viewed with the following fonts: "Harry P", and "Lumos". They can be found at Mugglenet.com in the downloads section. The story is written in "Garamond".

Chapter One

The Potter Family Estate

It was unseasonably cool summer's day at number four Privet Drive. Most of the residents of the square shaped houses were out in their yards cutting the grass or washing their over-pampered cars. Some of the younger inhabitants bandied a black and white checkered soccer ball back and forth along the street. Everyone was outside enjoying the break in the heat except for one unusual resident of number four.

The bespectacled, messy-haired, teen-ager sat in the upper bedroom looking rather melancholy out his open window. A worn picture album sat on his lap and he lazily flipped from page to page, not even looking at the pictures anymore, for the album contained nothing but bad memories of his deceased parents and their equally deceased best friend, the boy's godfather.

Harry Potter sighed for the 3127th time since summer break from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Most of his days consisted of laying about the smallest bedroom in the house, and occasionally responding to innocuous owl posts from his friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. The times, being what they were, made corresponding by owl post a rather dangerous pursuit, so much so that the trading of letters must not contain any news of any import for fear it would fall into the wrong hands.

The rise of Lord Voldemort and his band of Death Eaters was finally recognized by the Ministry of Magic and thusly the entire wizarding community only five weeks previous. The resulting actions by the Ministry consisted of owling pamphlets on defense strategies to all wizarding families in their jurisdiction, placing a few articles in the wizarding newspaper the Daily Prophet, and following up on the numerous supposed sightings of Lord Voldemort walking down the street in broad daylight or taking residence in certain people's attics.

Fear along with distrust were the most prevalent of emotions displayed on the faces of those in the know. All except a select few, one of which was Harry Potter. With the death of his godfather, the closest thing he had to a parent, Harry's attitude had fallen into despair and general apathy.

Last year at this time he was eagerly awaiting any news on the whereabouts of Lord Voldemort either in the Daily Prophet or any mysterious deaths in the Muggle news. Now, he couldn't care any less if Voldemort turned up in his room or out on the front lawn ... at least that was what he was trying to convince himself.

"Why don't you take a vacation, girl?" he told his snowy-white owl, Hedwig, who was standing on his desk trying her best to cheer up her master.

"It can't be fun hanging around here with me," he paused. "Go on, push off. Go visit Ron or Hermione or something."

Hedwig nipped affectionately at his hand and took off through the window leaving Harry alone in his self-imposed misery. Harry, with some difficulty, repressed another sigh and set about finishing his summer Transfiguration essay: Increase and decrease in subject mass. Advantages and disadvantages. Discuss. (Three Scrolls)

The cool day passed on into a warm night, when the sun eventually fell. The essay had not progressed any further than an additional two lines in the previous three hours when a brown colored barn owl lit upon the windowsill.

"Hello," said Harry, mildly surprised at the owl's arrival.

He reached over and the owl hopped onto his wrist so that he could detach the letter.

"And who are you from?"

The owl hooted and once Harry had retrieved the message he fed one of Hedwig's treats to him and off he went back into the night. He watched as the owl disappeared into the sky before he turned back to find, not one, but two letters addressed to him. Harry recognized one as being his yearly Hogwarts letter detailing his book and supplies needs but the other was addressed from a place called the W.E.A.

He dropped the Hogwarts letter on his desk and chose instead the W.E.A., since he had received mail from someone other than his friends, and he already knew what to expect from Hogwarts.

Mr. Harry Potter

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

Mrs. Griselda Marchbanks

Head - Wizarding Examinations Authority

Ministry of Magic

London

Dear Mr. Potter,

Enclosed are the results of your Ordinary Wizarding Level's exam taken June, last. If you feel the scores are in need of review please contact this office no later than three days after this notice with just reason.

Future Course Recommendation : N.E.W.T. Level Acceptable

*Special circumstances taken into account for disruption of testing due to Ministry official's interference. One grade level curve increase.

Sincerely,

Mrs. G. Marchbanks

"You're joking!" he barked.

The sound of heavy footfalls resounded outside his bedroom.

"What was that, boy?" his uncle's voice called out.

Harry's mood was shaken by the news of his grades and he replied in kind.

"I said you're a fat, ugly, git."

The door slammed open and his uncle stood, filling the doorway. His face was purple and his eyes narrowed. "What did you just say?"

Harry just didn't care anymore. He arranged his parchment and closed the lid on his ink bottle. His uncle glowered, but still stood in the doorway.

"I asked you a question, boy."

Harry ignored him and pulled his trunk out, filling it with his books, robes, and sundry other school related items leaving nothing behind he would miss.

"What is it you think you are doing?" spit the elder Dursley.

Harry took one last look around the room and sighed one final time at number 4 Privet drive before he lifted Hedwig's cage and took hold of his trunk.

"I said you are a fat, ugly, git and I'm leaving. Now get out of the way."

Dursley had gone an even darker shade of purple and Harry thought the man's heart was going to fail at the strain. His uncle's large bulk had not moved and it looked as if Harry had finally stepped over the line that would make his estranged extended family member do something that he wouldn't regret in the slightest.

He stopped, dropped Hedwig's cage, and pulled out his wand. Dursley smiled. "You can't do that. You'll be expelled," he almost sang with joy.

Harry smiled back. "It'd be worth it for one really good curse, and I learned a lot of good ones last year."

Dursley weighed his chances that Harry might be tempted to fulfill his threat, and decided not to take the risk.

"You leave this house and you're never to come back."

Harry grinned brightly, "Tell me this isn't my home."

Dursley was flummoxed and was about to do just that. "Erm ... well, it's not your home."

He shuffled to the side as Harry passed. "Thank you, Uncle. It's the best birthday present you've ever given me."

Harry let his trunk bang into the wall on the way down the stairs leaving small and large gashes in the sheetrock purely for spite. He set it down at the bottom, retrieved his Firebolt from his old cupboard and secured it to the lid of container holding all his worldly possessions.

Dursley was standing at the bottom of the stairs, open-mouthed at what his nephew was doing then followed him to the front door and watched as Harry Potter, who had been dropped at his doorstep at only one year of age was leaving his life forever.

Harry turned around and smiled as he took out his wand and raised it into the air. There was a deafening BANG, and he stepped back from the curb. The violently purple, triple-decker, bus slid to a stop right in front of him.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transpor ... Hey Ern, it's 'Arry Potter. Becomin' a regular customer 'e is. Where to 'arry?"

Pimply faced, Stan Shunpike helped him with his trunk, over to one of the first beds on the lower deck.

"London, please. Diagon Alley."

"Diagon Alley, Ern. That's eleven Sickles, 'Arry, 'lessen you want some 'ot chocolate, then its fifteen."

Harry dug out exact change and handed it over. "Just the ride is fine, Stan, thanks."

After another loud BANG, they were speeding along. Harry looked out the side windows briefly watching the lights and colors streak by until he started feeling queasy from the rocking motion of the bus.

"Be there in a flash, 'Arry. You're our only customer ta'night."

He knew why the Knight Bus was empty. People were scared of leaving their houses at night for fear of encountering Voldemort or one of his Death Eater's. Harry now knew what it was like back during Voldemort's first reign of terror. People were simply afraid.

Before he knew it, Ern slammed on the brakes and the Knight bus slid to a halt in front of the Leaky Caldron. Stan wasn't joking when he said they'd be there in a flash. Harry was helped again with his trunk through the front door.

"See ya', 'Arry."

"Bye, Stan," replied Harry and waved as the door to the Knight Bus closed.

He turned around and saw the small amount of people brave enough to be out and about were silent and staring at him.

"How are ya, Harry."

He looked over at the bar and saw the toothless innkeeper, "'Lo Tom. Spare a room?"

Tom came over and pumped Harry's hand. "What'cha doin' out at night, with what's been going on? Get in here."

He wasn't aware that anything was going on. "Did something happen?"

Tom shook his head. "No, nothing like that. You just can't be too careful with You-Know-Who being back, and all." He looked over at the staircase. "I suppose you can take number nineteen at the end of the hall, first level."

Harry nodded and picked up an end of his trunk. "Tom, is the fireplace in the room on the floo network?"

The bald man nodded, "For calls only. Had someone try to slip out without paying, one time. Took'em off after that."

Harry took the hint and passed him a couple of Galleons for the night.

"Will you be wanting anything? Butterbeer? Somthin' to eat?"

He nodded. "Both would be great, Tom. I'll be back down after I talk to someone."

The room was much like number eleven that he had stayed at before his third year at Hogwarts, a small desk, a bed, and a chest of drawers. The flames in the fireplace felt recently lit because the room was still cool. Harry dropped his trunk on the floor and placed Hedwig's cage on top of the chest before taking a bit of floo powder from the tray sitting on the modest mantelpiece.

He tossed the powder in and called out, "Number twelve Grimmauld Place." Then he stuck his head in the flames.

The familiar spinning occurred and eventually when it stopped he opened his eyes to the long kitchen of the Black Family Estate. he thought he spotted a pair of legs at the end of the kitchen, but couldn't be sure for the forest of chair legs blocking his sight.

"Hello, anyone there?"

A small yip issued forth and the form of Ginny Weasley stuck her head out to see Harry's head floating in the fireplace.

"Harry?"

"Hey, Ginny. Is everyone there?"

She closed in and he could see her quite clearly now. Each year she had become taller and taller filling in certain places and thinning in others.

"Just us. Ron and Hermione are upstairs. Do you want me to go get them?"

Harry shook his head no and immediately regretted it. The spinning resumed for a few seconds then slowed so her could see her again.

"Um ... no. I'll be there tomorrow after I pick up my supplies at Diagon Alley, maybe about lunch time. I just wanted to tell someone I'm safe in case people start to look for me."

Her face showed a little shock. "Harry, did you run away?"

"Sorta, the Muggles kicked me out, but it was mutual, so I'm at the Leakey Cauldron, but don't tell anyone. I want to spend the night by myself before I have to answer a million questions.."

She frowned. "Mum already sent Errol with a post saying we were picking you up tomorrow on our way to Diagon Alley."

Harry smiled. "That's fine. I'll see you here, then. What time?"

Ginny shrugged her shoulders. "She said early, so probably around nine."

Harry raised his eyes at that. He had planned on sleeping in."

"Alright, see you tomorrow, then."

"Bye, Harry."

The next morning, after a robust breakfast, Harry found himself entering the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley and made his way down to Gringotts Wizarding Bank to refill his pockets with much need Galleons. He hadn't personally visited Diagon Alley since his third year and he only had a few gold and bronze coins left.

He was cast a few interested looks here and there as some people had recognized him from the many times his picture had appeared in the Daily Prophet. However, Harry ignored them and kept on down to the street to Gringotts. He checked the time on his watch and it read 7:30; the Weasley's would be here soon and he still wanted a little time by himself to do some shopping.

Earlier that morning, when he was dressing, he looked at the hand-me-down clothes of Dudley's and put on only what he could wear today and tossed the rest into the fire, along with Uncle Vernon's old sock collection he had accumulated over the years. His first stop after getting a good amount of money was to a clothier for some clothes that actually fit, and didn't hang off him like some great tent.

A well dressed Goblin greeted him and opened the large doors for entrance to the bank. Harry was still unfamiliar with anyone but the teller-Goblin who had helped him out his first time at the bank with Hagrid so he approached with a minimal amount of trepidation, gripping his vault key in his right hand.

The goblin leaned over the overly tall counter area with what Harry assumed was a smile on his face.

"Mr. Potter, it has been a long time since you have graced us with your presence."

It was exceedingly hard to tell if the Goblin was being cordial or sarcastic with his remark. He supposed that's why there were so many Goblin wars; wizards didn't know if they were being insulted or welcomed. Harry chose to be welcomed.

"I need to get into my vault, please."

The Goblin held out his hand. "Your key?"

He handed it over and watched as the teller inspected the key. Soon after, an assistant was summoned and led Harry to a small cart which would lead him to his vault.

They sped through the tunnels deep beneath the streets of London making sharp turns here and there which Harry was sure would topple the cart and send him sprawling for miles, until they eventually came to a stop in front of his vault. The assistant slipped the key into a small hole in the center and pulled the door open with a great tug.

Before he stepped into the vault he stopped and looked inside. torches lit on either side of the walls inside and something appeared different.

"Are you sure this is my vault?"

The Goblin nodded once, not saying anything. Harry stepped inside and knew the contents were not his own, at least not all his own. For one thing there were way too many gold Galleons, and silver Sickles lining the walls, almost three or four times as much as the last time he was here. Including a large chest off to one side with a large ornate lock securing the lid.

He turned around and saw the assistant watching him.

"This wasn't in here the last time I was here. Are you sure this is my vault?"

The Goblin, again, nodded once. "All inquiries toward a customer's account must be answered by a bank official."

Harry didn't like mysteries, even more so since his godfather's death so he approached the large chest with a small amount of caution. He looked for a way to get around the lock since he didn't possess a key, but when he crouched to take a closer look the lock snapped open with an audible POP.

The lid to the chest slowly opened to reveal the contents: numerous stacks of parchment, a large amount of books (judging from the titles, dealing in the Dark Arts), and a single envelope sitting on top of it all, address to Harry.

He recognized the script and his hand trembled as he reached to pick it up and open the seal.

Dear Harry,

Well, if you're opening this letter then I must gone. I made arrangements with Gringotts for this chest to be transferred to your vault, along with any money that might be left in the Black Family vault and ownership transfer of the house at Grimmauld Place. It should give you a good head start on any life you choose.

I'm sorry for leaving you as I know your parents are as well. You deserve so much more than what life has given you, Harry, and I had hoped to be a part of making that a little better.

There is something I wanted to share with you regarding your parents and what I've seen of you.

As everyone's been telling you, you look just like James and also have Lily's eyes. Well it's true. But there's something else you got from both of them and I know the Dursley's had nothing to do with this. You've got your mother's heart, Harry. I've never seen someone care so much for his friends as you do except for Lily and James.

You have James' flair for adventure and your mother's even-headedness to keep you safe. You have inherited your recklessness from your father but it is tempered with love for other people besides yourself. And lastly, your courage and sense of what's right, you got from both of them.

I hope you have a chance to experience a somewhat normal life after Voldemort has been dealt with. I know with your fame it will be somewhat difficult, but you have friends to lean on in times like these and believe me when I say they want you to lean on them; especially that Gryffindor girl. She cares about you, Harry. She'd probably make sure I was dead if she found out I was telling you this, but I think it needs to be said and who says I make good choices about when to open my mouth.

Well, I can't think of anything else to say just right now and hopefully I'll think of something else and have time to include it with this note.

Take care of yourself, Harry, and know that I am so very proud of you and what you have accomplished so far with your life. I know you'll do great things.

With love from eternity,

Sirius

It wasn't until he dropped the letter that he realized tears were streaming down his face. He wiped them away with the heel of his hand and sniffed loudly as he looked for another envelope with his name on it, somewhere in the chest, to no avail. He did find the deed to Grimmauld Place with his name entered as current owner, and laid it beside Sirius' note.

After finding nothing else of immediate interest he closed the chest and stepped back watching the ornate lock close itself, securing the chest for his return. The note and the deed found their way into his pocket. Then he retrieved his money bag filling it with nothing but gold Galleons, and left the vault along with his heavy heart, behind.

Harry checked his watch upon leaving Gringotts and thought he better step up the pace if he was to meet the Weasley's at the Leakey Caldron by nine.

He found Calderon's Clothier to the left of the bank as he stepped out into the morning sun. When he entered he found himself to be the only customer in the little shop.

A short balding man in bright red robes scurried forth from the back of the shop. "Morning, young sir! How may I be of service."

Harry looked around the shop at the different styles, all for men and shook his head. He had never been clothes shopping with his Aunt and didn't have the slightest clue as to what he was supposed to do.

"I ... um. I want to buy some clothes, sir."

The little man laughed heartily. "I figured as much, young sir. I don't sell Quidditch supplies here -- no sir." He held his arms out showing off the store. "Is there any particular style that you like?"

Harry was still a little nervous in the unfamiliar situation. "Sir, I've never really ... that is ... erm."

The little man wasn't held back for a moment. "First time out on your own?"

'In more way's than one,' Harry thought to himself.

"Yes, sir. I've been living with Muggles and all I've gotten is hand-me-downs from my cousin."

The little man took in Harry's current wardrobe and tutted to himself. "Don't mean to be indelicate, young sir, but can you afford the items in this shop?"

Harry smiled at that and dug his money bag out to stick his hand in and pull out a fist full of gold Galleons.

"Great Merlin, sir! Don't bandy that about. You'll be robbed quicker than a shop keeper in Knockturn Alley." He motioned Harry to the back of the shop and took a look at what he had. "I'd say that you have enough for ten wardrobes sir, got family you want to clothe as well, I take it?"

Harry shook his head, "No, sir, just me."

"Then come right this was, and I'll introduce you to some of the latest fashions this season, fresh in from Paris."

He followed the little man around the store listening to his advice and choosing a few pairs of pants, shirts, sweaters, shoes, socks, undergarments and accessories, creating quite a pile of clothes on the counter before he was done.

"If you'll take a these selections I picked out for you and step into the changing room for your fitting."

Harry followed his directions and pulled on a black turtleneck sweater, with matching slacks. He wasn't so sure about he sizing though. It seemed these were just as big as the clothes that he inherited from Dudley. When he stepped out from behind curtain the little man tapped each piece of the clothes in turn. Harry watched as the sweater shrunk to fit, as well as the slacks and shoes.

He felt strange to be wearing clothes that actually fit.

"Wonderful, young sir. Excellent taste if I may say so myself."

Harry didn't argue since it was the shop owner that did most of the choosing.

"If you want to continue your shopping I will have the rest of your clothes ready in an hour's time."

Harry checked his watch and saw that it was five minutes until nine. If he didn't' hurry he was going to be late.

"Thank you, sir, for all of your help."

Harry made a dash for the door, but was held up.

"Sir, don't forget your cloak. Must look your best for the ladies out there."

He threw the cloak around Harry's neck and tied it off. "Pay attention to the inside pocked of this cloak. There is one on either side. You are right-handed, correct?"

Harry nodded.

"Good. The right pocket is quite normal as you can see."

The pocket was pulled inside out and seemed normal just as he said.

"Now the left pocket here is charmed. Here, drop your money sack inside."

He did as directed and when he dropped it inside, Harry didn't feel the slightest tug at his cloak.

"It's called an Always Accessible Pocket. You can store up to twenty pounds worth, inside. When you reach in, just think of what you want and it will be the first thing that appears in your hand. Go ahead, give it a try."

Harry stuck his hand in and thought of the exact amount he owed the shop owner and stuck his hand inside the bag to retrieve a fist full of gold Galleons to hand to the little man.

"I think this should cover everything."

The shop keeper's eyes lit up and he smiled broadly. "I'll have the rest of your clothes in an hour sir."

Harry dashed down the street, his cloak flying behind him, until he reached the end, in front of the large fireplace up against the back of the Leaky Caldron, that served as floo access to the outside world.

He checked his watch and saw that it was exactly nine o'clock. the green flames raised high in the fireplace as figures stared leaping out.

The first was Mrs. Weasley. "Harry, dear. what are you doing here?"

"Came to do my school shopping," he replied.

Ginny was up next and then Ron and Hermione. Their faces lit up when they caught hold of Harry.

"Hey, mate. Mum didn't know what to think when Errol turned up last night with your letter. Thought maybe he was getting too old."

Ron let go of his hand and let Hermione take a hold of him in a hug. "Hi, Harry. Looks like the Dursley's finally bought you some clothes that fit properly."

He laughed, "That would never happen in a million years Hermione. I got fed up and bought my own."

She smiled and took him in from head to toe. "Good taste."

Ginny stepped up and ran her hand down his arm. "Is that real cashmere?"

Harry shrugged. He didn't have a clue.

"Get off, Ginny," Ron chided. "He doesn't want girls pawing after him."

Ginny eyed him. "Well then, if you don't want that, I would suggest getting back your Muggle clothes."

"Ginny Weasley!" cried Mrs. Weasley. "Honestly." She tugged at her daughter's arm and whispering something to her that Harry couldn't hear.

"Oh, Mum, you are so old-fashion sometimes. It's alright for girls to talk to boys like that nowadays. It's almost the twenty-first century after all."

Harry smirked as he felt a tug on his arm.

"Did you get your O.W.L. Grades yet, Harry?" asked Hermione.

He nodded.

She bounced in place. "Well?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "You might as well answer her. She bugged me to death last night until I finally told. Wouldn't even let me eat dinner in peace."

Hermione frowned at him. "Well, it's important."

Harry laughed. "Eight out of nine O.W.L.'s. I fell asleep during the History of Magic test. I really didn't expect to ..."

He didn't have enough time to finish his sentence before he was pulled into another hug. "Oh, Harry. That's wonderful!"

"Did you hear that, Ron? Harry received eight O.W.L.'s." Mrs. Weasley chastised.

Ron screwed up his face. Harry had a feeling his best friend hadn't done as good.

"I still beat out Fred and George, didn't I?" he flung back.

It was a sure thing to get Ron's mom on the subject of disappointments, all you had to mention her twin sons.

"I saw their shop back there," mentioned Harry. "I thought they were doing good.'

Hermione slid her hand down Harry's arm and pulled him closer. "They're doing more than good. They put Gambol & Japes out of business. That's what annoys her," she whispered.

He nodded in understanding. "Ready to go shopping?"

After a couple more hours shopping, Harry, Ron and Hermione returned to his room at the Leaky Caldron to pack away Harry's school supplies and pick up the rest of his things before heading back to the fireplace in Diagon Alley, and finally through to number twelve Grimmauld Place.

"I can't believe you bought all of these clothes, Harry," commented Hermione.

Ron scoffed, "You can't? I had to carry most of them!"

Hermione bounced on Harry's bed and watched as he hung up his new clothes and unstrapped his broom, standing it up in the corner out of the way.

"What classes are you taking this year, Harry?" she asked with great interest.

He shrugged, "Um ..." he opened up his trunk and pulled out the required course-books. "Let's see, ... Interesting Creatures and Where to Find Them volume 3 for Care of Magical Creatures. Advanced Transfiguration, that's self-explanatory. Um ... The Standard Book of Spells years 6 and 7, thought I'd see if there's something interesting for Charms class next years as well. "

Hermione smiled brightly at that thinking she had finally got one of the boys to look ahead for once, or so he thought.

"What else, oh yeah. Extraordinarily Difficult Potions For the Advanced Student."

"You took Potions!" said Ron before he fell off the bed.

Harry shrugged, "I only scored 'Exceeds Expectations' on my Potion O.W.L.. I 'm gonna try to write Dumbledore and McGonagall to see if they can make Snape take me anyway."

Severus Snape, the Hogwarts Potions Master announced a number of times the previous year, that he positively would not accept any student that scored less than an Outstanding on their Potions O.W.L. However, seeing as Harry depended on the Potions N.E.W.T. to get him into Auror training after graduation, he needed the course.

"Moving on ... to Magical Thumb: A Guide to Useful Exotic Plants, Herbology, of course he tossed it aside and pulled another Defending against the Dark, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Pulling Something out of Nothing, Evocation."

Hermione almost jumped off of the bed with shock. "You took Evocation!"

For one of the first times in his life Ron didn't have something to add to the conversation except, "What's Evocation?"

Hermione continued, "Evocation is an extremely advanced course, Harry. Are you sure?"

Ron was lost. "What's Evocation?"

"Evocation spells manipulate energy or tap an unseen source of power to produce a desired end. In effect, they create something out of nothing," explained Hermione. "Very few wizards even bother with it because it borders on the Dark Arts."

Now Harry was surprised. "I thought it was like making squashy armchairs appear and things like that. That's why I signed up for it. Well, that and I wanted to have something extra in case Snape is a pillock, and won't let me take Potions."

Ron sounded confident when he said, "Dumbledore won't let him keep you out if you want to take it, Harry. He knows you'd be a top notch Auror."

He set the books on the desk and closed his trunk back. "So what about you two."

Hermione cut Ron off before he even started. "We're in many of the same classes, Harry, even Evocation. But I'm not taking Care of Magical Creatures or Herbology. I have Arithmancy and Ancient Ruins instead."

"Ron?"

"Charms, Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, and Herbology."

Something was wrong and Ron wasn't telling. "Only four courses?" asked Harry.

His best friend looked down at his shoes and mumbled, "Only got four O.W.L.'s and barely those."

Hermione didn't seem to mind in the least and treated it like that was Ron's plan the entire time. "I keep telling him to enroll in Muggle Studies. He can have an excellent job with the Ministry in a number of departments."

Ron almost exploded off the bed. "How many times do I have to tell you I don't want to work at the Ministry. You've seen how they treat Dad?" He turned to Harry. "Harry, tell her how small my dad's office is."

Harry shrugged, "It is kind of small."

"Kind of? It's a closet and he shares it with another person."

Hermione was disappointed. "Ron, I thought you were proud of your father it doesn't matter what kind of job he has."

"It does matter! I'm not gonna go off and get married and have twenty children with a job like that and not be able to give them what they want." He pulled at his maroon colored Weasley sweater. "Why can't I have, just once, some clothes that are new, or an owl that isn't bloody senile, or completely bonkers. Or be able to take a girl out on the town without worrying whether or not if I can impress her."

Hermione's eyes widened and Harry stood his ground for he knew he was worse last year and Ron put up with his ranting, so he would put up with his. That's what friends were for, after all.

"You and Harry have it nice. Hermione, your parents are dentists and Harry's parents left him a load of Galleons. Harry, I know you'd trade them back for your parents any day, but ..." he scuffed his shoe along the floor. "I hate being poor."

Hermione inched over when she was sure he had let it all out and wrapped her arms around him. "This'll be your year, Ron. You'll see."

Harry being a boy, tried to suggest a way to fix his problem. "You could always do what Fred and George did."

"I don't want to have a joke shop, Harry. I don't think I could come up with any good jokes in the first place."

Harry shook his head. "No, I mean start your own business. We just need to find out what you're good at and work on it that way."

Hermione beamed. "I think that's an excellent idea, Harry. Ron, what are you good at?"

He thought about it for a few seconds. "Nothing."

"Oh, posh," she commented. "You have to be good at something."

"Ron, Harry, Hermione! Lunch is ready!" Ginny yelled from downstairs.

They heard Mrs. Weasley's voice in the background. "Ginny no!"

"Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, freaks, leave this place at once! Blood traitors, abominations!"

Sirius' mother still haunted the front hall in her life size portrait screaming obscenities at anyone and anything that disturbed her peace.

Harry cocked his head. "Still haven't got rid of her portrait yet?"

"Mum's tried everything she could think of to un-stick the old bat. Nothing works." said Ron.

2. The Changes in Ourselves

Chapter Two

The Changes in Ourselves

Harry spent most of the afternoon drafting a letter to Dumbledore listing various reasons he should be allowed to take Potions class, not the least of which was his desire to further his education as an Auror after graduation, and then spent the rest lounging around with Hermione and Ron in the one of the many bedrooms on the third floor of number 12 Grimmauld Place that they had turned into a make shift study.

One of the large circular tables that was stowed away in the attic served as their desk and chairs stolen from the basement kitchen, their chairs. Hermione did find a softening charm that is mostly used on brooms that padded the wooden chair nicely for extended studying times.

"Can we go play chess now or something, I'm bored," announced Ron.

Hermione chose this time for one of her tough love speeches. "Ron, you stood there in your room last night complaining about not having anything to do with your life. Why do you think that is?"

He was clueless. "Uh ... I'm poor?"

She rolled her eyes. "You won't apply yourself."

"Now she's starting to sound like mum."

Hermione's face soured up. "Let me put this another way. You'd better start developing a more disciplined study routine and devote yourself to receiving the highest possible score on your N.E.W.T.'s or you'll end up in your own self-fulfilling prophecy."

"What did she just say ... study for N.E.W.T.'s, right now?" he asked Harry. Harry just shrugged. "And what's this about a prophecy? I'm not taking Divination."

"Honestly, Ron, I don't know why I bother. Go ahead and shirk your studies for another two years and see where it gets you. You'll be lucky if you qualify to be Filch's assistant by the time your N.E.W.T.'S come along."

Harry thought that was a little harsh, but Ron had to see things clearly if he was going to pass the tests that were to determine what he was going to do for the rest of his life, and mentioning Filch just might be the right inducement for self-motivation than anything he could think of. He shuddered.

"What?" asked Ron.

Harry pulled his book down. "A picture appeared in my head of you, a hundred years old, dashing through the secret passageways of Hogwarts chasing Peeves and shouting 'I've got you now!' with Pig flying all about your head."

Ron's face went a little green when he pictured it himself.

Harry sighed and stood up, laying Advanced Transfiguration open on the table, so he didn't lose his place. "I'm going down to the kitchen to get some pumpkin juice. Anyone want some?"

Hermione shook her head no.

"Yeah, I guess, if we're going to be here all day," said Ron gloomily.

Harry stepped out, on to the landing, and pulled the door closed. When he reached the second floor landing he stared down the hall where Sirius' bedroom lay and the room adjacent that housed the Hippogriff, Buckbeak. He looked back upstairs for some reason, like maybe to see if anyone would see him if he went down to look at the rooms.

He knew that they'd be empty, or at the very least untouched from the last time they were used, in June, but he still had to see for himself. The house became eerily quiet as he stepped forward and made his way closer to the first door. Harry's focus seemed to take in only the two doors and the rest of the house faded away. He remembered the feeing in his reoccurring dream from last year as he was walking toward the closed door of the Department of Mysteries; it was oddly similar.

By the time he had reached the door he realized that his breathing had increased and the feeling of sweat above his upper lip made him swipe away at his mouth to relive himself of its distraction. The old snake crested doorknob to Buckbeak's old room had been replaced with of plain brass and it was surprisingly cold when Harry placed his hand on it and turned.

He took a breath and pushed the door open, only to find a completely empty room: no straw on the floor, no chewed up ferret bones, no strong stench of unclean Hippogriff. The entire scene was so unexpectedly anti-climactic that Harry let loose a rush of breath that he hadn't realized he was holding, and laughed to himself at his feeling of fear.

After closing the door he turned and laid his hand on the doorknob to Sirius' old room, twisting it to open the door slightly. If any room in the house had been left out of respect to Harry it would have been this one. He eased the door open and heard an odd rattling sound from inside.

Harry looked quickly as he pulled out his wand, just in case. He pushed the door the rest of the way open and stepped tentatively inside. He heard something like a bullfrog on the other side of the large bed, off-center, near the back of the room across from the fireplace. The closer he neared the clearer the sound got, until he was standing in front of the still and unused fireplace.

"... not fit to step foot in this house. Filthy blood traitors infesting my poor Mistress' house with their Mudblood friends, and that half-blood misfit that went and destroyed the Dark Lord. Kreacher wants to know how he did it ..."

All blood left Harry's face as he felt a massive chill rake down his spine. His hands shook so much that his wand fell away onto the floor.

"You," he whispered.

His mind was clean and empty except for the conversation he and Kreacher had via Floo last June when Harry needed to know if Sirius had left the house. It was Kreacher's maniacal laughter at saying that Sirius would never return and he and his Mistress would finally be alone. More than almost anyone with the exception of Bellatrix Lestrange and Voldemort, Kreacher was responsible for his godfather's death. And now Harry had his chance for revenge.

He brought his hand up to utter a curse so horrible that Kreacher would die instantly, but found his hand empty and his wand missing. A quick scan of the floor did not reveal its presence, but located something of equal value when disposing of murdering little house-elves ... a fire-iron.

Harry hefted the iron in his hand and felt the cold steel somewhat similar to the chill he felt in his heart. Two more steps brought him closer to the pathetic elf sitting on the floor in its own filth muttering over and over again.

The fire-iron arced its way into the air and held for a fraction of a second, for Harry wanted more than anything in the world for the despicable Kreacher to see his end coming and the form that it would take.

"Kreacher," Harry's voice cracked.

The miserably, filthy elf turned its head up at the sound and it's eyes went wide at the sight of an enraged and vengeful Harry Potter ... and the fire-iron fell with damning intent and a sickening crunch on Kreacher's leg. The house-elf screamed and scrambled under the bed as quick as his injured leg would take him.

Harry rushed around for another strike and missed this time, only an inch short of crushing the house-elf's foot before it snaked out of sight. He fell to his knees and lashed out underneath the bed a second before lifting up the dust cover that lay across the mattress.

"Come out, murderer!"

He lifted the dust cover up to reveal empty space underneath. At once he leapt to his feet and saw Kreacher almost to the door, trying in vain to make an escape. But the House-elf was pitifully slow, having to drag itself along the floor because of it's inability to run.

Harry hopped on top of the bed and over, dashing madly with the fire-iron held high once more. Kreacher made his way onto the landing and tried desperately to pull itself up by use of one of the decorative braces. Harry didn't know whether it was the elf's weight or if the brace had simply rotted away over time, but in either case the brace gave way and took Kreacher with it over the side and to the hardwood floor below.

He came to a stop at the railing and peered over the side to see the crumpled body of Kreacher laying with it's neck twisted at an odd angle. Relief and satisfaction fell over him in a warm blanket of triumph before he heard a voice from the side.

"Harry? What have you done?"

He turned his head to the voice and saw the frightened face of Hermione staring at him with her hands over her mouth. A strange calm settled his face and he dropped the fire-iron where he stood and walked toward the stairway.

"I'm taking care of unfinished business," he said coldly.

He took the steps downward two at a time landing on the bottom floor with a resounding slap of his shoes. The moth-bitten curtains covering the portrait of Sirius's mother slid aside and the loud ruckus, of curses and screams, began again.

Harry walked by and kicked out at Kreacher's body as he passed to make sure he was dead, and then walked calmly into the living room to the roll-top desk and sat down in front, opening several drawers until he found parchment and a quill.

"What's all this, then?" he heard the voice of Mrs. Weasley above the screams of Sirius' mother in the hallway. She must have been down in the kitchen and only now came up to find out who set off the portrait again. He heard her brief gasp and then finished what he was doing.

Harry folded the parchment several times until it was half the size of his palm and returned to the lifeless body laying in the entry hall. It was surrounded by a shocked Ron and Hermione, a fearful Mrs. Weasley and a rather smug looking Ginny.

With much disgust at having to touch the body of the dead house-elf Harry shoved the note into it's mouth and dragged it to the fireplace and shoved it in. A second later he had grabbed a pinch of Floo powder and threw it in as well, yelling, "Malfoy Manor!"

With a Whoosh of flames Kreacher was out of his life forever and the message had been delivered. He took three steps backward and fell onto the couch facing the fireplace and let the tears start to fall.

He awoke sometime later in the evening laying down on the very same couch except something was different. His head was resting in what he assumed was someone's lap. Upon further inspection he noticed it was Hermione's, and she too was asleep, her head lolling to the side.

Harry sat up abruptly and jostled her awake in the process.

Hermione twisted her head this way and that, rubbing an obvious crick in her neck. "What time is it?"

He ignored her question. "Hermione, why was I asleep on your lap?"

She stopped rubbing her neck at his question. "You don't remember?"

"Remember what?"

She narrowed her eyes, trying to get a better look at him in the dim light. "Harry, do you remember what you did before you fell asleep?"

He looked to the side and around the room quickly. "What are we doing in here. I was ..." He stopped and tried to think of what he was doing. "I was going to get some pumpkin juice for me and Ron ..."

She nodded. "What happened after that?"

From the look on her face and the tone of her question he could tell that something happened. Something was not right.

"Hermione, what happened," he almost begged.

She took his hand into both of hers. "Oh, Harry. You must have blocked it out. The entire episode."

Horror crept onto his face as he remembered Ginny's words from last year about losing time and not knowing what she was doing when Voldemort took possession of her.

"Voldemort," he whispered.

Hermione shook her head. "No Harry, it was you. I'm sure of it."

"Hermione, what exactly did I do?"

She looked at the fire and back to him again, seemingly unsure if she should say anything. "I don't know what happened before I reached the second landing, but Kreacher was trying to get away from you and fell through the railing. You came out of Sirius' room holding a fire-iron and ... and ... "

He couldn't take anymore; not remembering any of this was pushing him over the edge. "And what?"

"You were gone, Harry. It wasn't Voldemort, I'm sure about that, but you were cold as ice when you turned to me and dropped the iron. The look on your face ..." She stopped there and continued with her story some minutes ahead in the telling. "Then you shoved a bit of parchment in his mouth and Floo'd him to Malfoy Manor."

Harry was quite unbelieving. "I did not."

"Harry, I was there I saw what you did." She paused. "And then you sat down on the couch and started crying. That's when I came over here. You laid your head on my lap and cried yourself to sleep."

He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I don't remember doing any of those things." He stopped when he felt small amounts of tear trails that ran the length of his face.

They were interrupted a few moments later when Mrs. Weasley entered the room. "Still in here, are you?" She neared the couch and stared worryingly at Harry. "How are you feeling, Harry dear? Hermione told me how you were trying to catch Kreacher and he fell off the landing. Shoddy craftsmanship if you ask me. This house is falling apart around us."

He looked at Hermione questioningly, but didn't say anything.

"Well, dears, I've got dinner ready downstairs if you are up to it."

Harry nodded. "Thanks. We'll be down in a second. We need to wash up."

He couldn't think of a better reason to be alone with Hermione and confirm what Mrs. Weasley had just said, or find out what really happened.

She smiled softly. "Well it's about time that someone in this house knows the necessity of clean hands and faces. We'll see you down there presently then."

The moment she left, Harry closed to Hermione's ear so they wouldn't be overheard. "Is that what happened? I was trying to catch Kreacher?"

Hermione looked extraordinarily nervous. "Harry --

"What aren't you telling me?" he insisted.

She turned to him and he saw the sadness in her eyes. "Harry, I think you were trying to kill him."

He looked for any trace of uncertainty in her face and was staggered not to find any at all.

Harry felt a pain in his chest and darkness slid over his face. "I tried to kill him. And I would have if he didn't' fall first ..." Something came to him. "I didn't throw him over did I?"

She shook her head adamantly. "No, I saw him fall. The railing did give way."

They both sat for another minute as Harry mulled over the thought of purposely killing another living, thinking creature before Hermione grabbed his hand and led him to the facilities to wash up.

After he had splashed water on his face it seemed to lift him out of his self-imposed introspection and bring him around to what he was actually doing, standing in the loo with a girl who was handing him a dry towel.

"Thanks," he said.

He patted his face with the cloth and when he pulled it away he noticed Hermione was standing unusually close. Her eyes were sorrowful and understanding all at once when she set her hand on his face and pulled him down in a hug with the other.

It was warm and full of friendship, which was what he needed more than anything, and in return he wanted to thank her without saying anything because he didn't really trust his voice right then. So he kissed her cheek they pulled apart, only Hermione did the precisely the same thing at exactly the same time and their lips brushed together briefly.

Harry jumped back as if he had just committed the granddaddy of all faux pas' of all time. One did not kiss their best friends on the lips under any circumstances.

"Um ... sorry. I meant to ... erm ... your cheek."

She smiled sweetly. "It's okay, Harry. I think we'll survive." She looked down. "See, I'm not melting into a little pile of goo over a kiss from the famous Harry Potter."

He rolled his eyes and almost laughed. "Thanks for that."

Hermione laughed. "Go on downstairs. I have to do something first, okay."

He followed her eyes to the toilet and made a quick exit almost running down the stairs for suddenly he found he had quite an appetite.

When Mrs. Weasley produced a number of pumpkin pies for dessert Ron's eye's lit up, but she brought them right back down again.

"You four only get to share one; the rest are for the meeting tonight."

Harry's ears perked up at that. "An Order of the Phoenix meeting, tonight?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "And I want the lot of you upstairs in fifteen minutes out of sight." She then eyed Ron and Ginny with an intense amount of scrutiny and took out her wand. "Accio Extendable Ears!"

Satisfied that they did not have any of Fred and George's contraband from last year she set about serving each of them a quarter piece of the pie before Hermione stopped her.

"A small piece for me please, Mrs. Weasley."

She nodded curiously. "Don't like pumpkin pie, dear?"

"Oh no, I love it. But I want to watch my figure this year," she said sheepishly.

Ron laughed, or he would have if his mouth wasn't full of pie already. "Gof a guh eine up?"

Ginny screwed up her face. "I really wish you wouldn't talk with your mouth full. It's quite repulsive."

Ron swallowed audibly and set his voice in a higher octave. "It's quite repulsive." He snorted. "I said, have you got a guy lined up for this year. I hope it's not Dean Thomas. Ginny's been getting letters from him all summer. Quite sickening really."

Mrs. Weasley came to her daughter's rescue. "Leave your sister alone, Ron, it's not her fault if she's turned out to be stunningly attractive like her mother."

Ron snorted at the comment about Ginny being attractive and didn't realize that he had just offended his mother.

"Accio Pie!" And his pie shot out from in front of him. "Let's see you watch your figure this year as well, Ronald Weasley."

"Hey!"

Harry and Hermione sat to the side snickering to themselves.

After setting their plates in the sink Mrs. Weasley shooed them off upstairs before the members of the Order started arriving.

"I don't know why we can't attend the meetings now, "Ron said indignantly. "I mean we faced down the whole lot of Death Eaters last year, didn't we. If anyone has a right to be there it's us."

Hermione picked up her study schedule to make small adjustments. "We're not of age, Ron."

"I'll be seventeen in just a few months. What difference will a couple of months make about whether or not I know something? It's not like I'll be any smarter by then."

She sat the schedule back down on the table. "Or any more mature."

Ron nodded and then stopped as if he wasn't sure if he'd been insulted or not.

Harry closed in on the door, trying in vain to see if he could hear anything through the solid wood. "I'd sure like to know what's going on."

Ginny leaned back on Ron's bed re-reading her latest letter from Dean. "Mum's still got that damned charm on the door. You'll never hear anything going on."

"Ginny, watch your mouth," warned Ron.

She leaned up and tossed Ron's pillow at his head. "Oh, I'm old enough to risk my life and get my leg broken at the Ministry, but I can't curse?"

Ron ducked about of the way. "That about sums it up."

"Shh. I think someone just came in," whispered Harry as he cracked the door open.

Ron ran up to the door and tried to listen. "I can't hear anything."

Harry frowned. "Neither can I."

They heard a book close shut behind them and a chair scoot out. "Honestly, Harry. I would think you of all people would have cracked open your Spells book by now."

Ron backed away. "What are you on about?"

"The Enhanced Listening charm?" she offered.

Harry looked down at Ron and shrugged his shoulders.

Hermione pulled out her wand and tapped Harry's right ear. "Auidbilis!"

He jumped and cringed, holding his ear closed when Ron said, "What's that do?"

Hermione shushed him and performed the same spell on him, Ginny and then herself as quietly as she could. Harry eased the door open and they crawled out onto the landing and listened to the conversation below.

They heard the sound of Remus Lupin's voice like he was standing right next to them. "It's the Death Eater's March all over again."

"Don't be overly dramatic, Lupin. So they've harassed a street full of Muggles. It's not like they haven't performed similar mindless acts like this in the past," said the voice of their potions master Severus Snape.

Harry felt a surge of hatred and animosity toward the one person that could have stopped the events of last term. If only he had been a more compassionate teacher and worked with Harry instead of trying to abuse him at every turn during his Occlumency lessons. He felt his face burn and the clutching of his fists with their nails biting into his palms.

Then he sensed something else, or rather someone else. He looked down to find Hermione's hand on his arm and her curious face inches next to his, and all his fury drifted away. He smiled grimly at her and turned back to the conversation.

"We can't allow it to happen again, Severus." said Lupin. "I'm going to talk to "Mad-Eye" about it. Get his opinion."

Snape exhaled. "And the next thing you know we'll be on all night patrols and we will never get anything accomplished."

Ron's Mother opened the door to the kitchen. "No talking about Order business in the halls. I don't want the children hearing."

"Mad-Eye" Moody arrived next and Harry knew they were being spied upon by his notorious revolving eye for Moody purposely looked upward and straight at him briefly before heading downstairs. Next was Kingsley Shaklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks, partnered Aurors and well placed Order spies inside the Ministry. Arthur Weasley popped in, Apparating in the main hall, and trotted downstairs.

They all heard the kitchen door closing and an abrupt cessation of any sound therein.

Hermione sat up and tapped her own ear. "Gonhieran!" Then she performed the same to Ginny and Ron. Harry, however, cocked his head for he heard something, a thump-thump type of sound. Hermione looked at him with a questioning face. He put his hand on hers and pushed it downward slightly, not wanting the spell to end just yet. As he did he heard the thump-thumping increase.

Hermione risked a barely audible whisper. "Harry?"

Harry held up his finger for her to be quiet as he tried to located the sound. He sat up and swiveled his head around until the sound became louder and followed it to its source. It seemed to be coming from behind Hermione. A brief panic overcame him as he remembered the Basilisk incident in his second year when only he could hear the snakelike creature, but he immediately discounted this as his hearing was enhanced and was very probably the reason only he could hear the sound.

He swiveled to his hands and knees and crawled slowly behind Hermione until the sound became softer as he was leading himself away. He turned and centered his ear closer and closer. The thump-thumping increased in speed until he bumped into Hermione's chest and finally realized what the sound was.

Harry sat up abruptly and pointed to his ear. Hermione performed the counter-charm and his hearing decreased back to normal.

"I heard your heart."

She sighed in relief. "Oh." She looked down and back up at him. "The charm is mainly used by Mediwitches and Healers for just that reason."

Harry shrugged it off and they joined Ron and Ginny back in the room.

"So what's this about a Death Eater's March?" asked Ron.

Hermione stepped quickly over to her trunk and pulled out one of her many books. "I know I've heard of that somewhere. Let me see." She flipped through and scanned a number of pages, closed that book and pulled another out.

"Here it is! In Notable Events of the Twentieth-Century, " she said excitedly. "The so-called Death Eater's March ..." She read the rest over to herself to refresh her memory and then closed the book.

Harry was eager to hear what she had to say. "So?"

She set the book back in her trunk and sat up straight up in Harry's bed. "It happened back during Voldemort's first reign of terror. He led his Death Eaters into small Muggles townships and created havoc: stealing valuable items, accosting Muggles, even killing some. There was much speculation as to why he even bothered."

Ron snorted. "Cause he's a hateful git is why."

Harry nodded.

Hermione continued. "Most thought just that; perhaps he was just having a bit of his twisted idea of fun. But some others speculate he was searching for something."

Harry became very interested. "What?"

Hermione shook her head. "Nobody knows. There was a peculiar pattern to the 'March'. They would only occur during the nights of the full moon and ..."

"Werewolves, they want to recruit werewolves!" Ron said excitedly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't be silly. Why would they subject themselves to possible infection and what use would they be. They can only turn every full moon. There's not a lot you can accomplish in only one night."

Ron looked sullen with his idea set aside so quickly.

"To continue ... the marches only happened on the night of the full moon, in villages with populations less than a hundred, and oddly enough, where only one prominent wizard previously held residence."

Harry pondered for a moment. "It's like they were looking for someone."

"Or some thing," added Hermione. "And covering it up by the carnage of the 'March'."

An hour dragged by before they heard voices, obviously raised, indicating the meeting's end, and the four of them exited the temporary exile of the bedroom to greet some old friends.

Before they reached the door of basement kitchen they heard several loud pops Harry recognized as someone either Disapparating of Apparating. If it was his guess, people were leaving. Ron was the first through the door followed by Harry and Hermione trailing behind.

"Thought this thing would never be over with, I'm starved."

Hermione scoffed, "Ron, you only ate an hour ago."

Harry spotted Remus Lupin and Dumbledore speaking at the far end of the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley was closest to the door, cleaning up after the meeting.

"Where is everyone?" he asked.

She looked up from sending the small plates over to the sink where others were in various stages of being cleaned by a free-floating scrub-brush. "Things to do, Harry."

Harry was crestfallen that barely anyone stayed behind to at least say hello to him. He sat at the table next to Hermione and across from Ron waiting for Remus and Dumbledore to finish their conversation.

"What are they on about?" asked Ron after he swallowed a piece of confiscated pumpkin pie that was left behind.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. Remus didn't look altogether happy about something and Dumbledore was his usual upright and resolute self. He wondered what the headmaster was going to do this year that would make Harry's life a living hell.

He stopped and blinked a couple of times, wondering why he thought such a thing about the professor and then realized that their small meeting had broken up. Dumbledore and Remus strode up and stood beside the door to the kitchen.

"Harry," Dumbledore said. "Would you join us, please ?"

Harry looked to his two friends. "Be right back."

Hermione looked on with interest and Ron frowned at not being invited as well. He followed the two wizards up the staircase and through the hall to a private room that Harry had only seen a couple of times last summer. Remus closed the folding doors and placed a Imperturbable Charm upon it so they would not be overheard. Harry's interest was peaked at the secrecy and he felt an almost energetic rush at being let in on something interesting, for once.

Dumbledore conjured himself a squashy armchair and one for both he and Remus before beginning.

"Sit, Harry, sit," he offered.

Harry obliged and sat forward in his chair to listen attentively.

"It has come to my attention that you have left Privet Drive prematurely."

Harry cringed inwardly and a little outwardly as well. "Um ..."

"You must return for another week, at least," continued Dumbledore. "You know as well as I the protection afforded you by your mother's blood."

Harry nodded. "Yes, but ..."

A serious look overcame Dumbledore. Harry rarely every got to see the serious side of the headmaster and usually only over a subject quite grim.

"There must be no mistaking where your home lays, Harry."

There was no doubt in Harry's mind about where his real home lay. He'd spent sixteen years with the Dursley's being mentally abused, being told he was worthless and nothing but a strain on their finances, and their general well being. They had treated him worse than the dirt under their fingernails and he knew that a real home was nothing like what he had experienced.

A surge of impertinence overcame Harry at that moment. "This is my home."

Dumbledore frowned under his silver beard. Harry looked across at Remus who sat nonplused.

"Indeed? And who will protect you here?"

Who had ever protected him? Hagrid had when he first appeared on the small bit of rock and told Harry that he was a wizard and would suffer no disrespect from his Uncle Vernon, his friends Ron and Hermione numerous times over the years, Ron's parents by allowing him to stay at their home a couple of summers, Dumbledore who save him from the wrath of Voldemort last June, and a few threats toward the Dursley's offered in his stead by Mad-Eye, Tonks, and Mr. Weasley so they'd leave him alone this summer.

But who could he really depend on when and if it came down to it? Remus, maybe. Hermione and Ron, probably. Everyone else?

"I'll protect myself. I'm not living with the Dursley's anymore. This is my home."

Dumbledore's face now turned grim. "Harry, this is the Black Family Estate. I do not know how long it will go unnoticed by Narcissa Malfoy, nor her kin. They will eventually come to take possession of the house. Unplottable the estate may be, but for those of the family it will eventually be accessible."

Harry stood, "This is my home." He turned and started to make his way out of the room, stopping before pulling the doors open. "I know you can make me go against my will, Professor."

"I have no intension of forcing you to do something against your will. However, I will remind you of your mother's sacrifice to ensure your safety."

Harry swung around, enraged. "How can I ever forget! You remind me of it every time I turn around. You tell me how it's my fault that she's dead. You don't say it in so many words, but it's there. My parents might still be alive if it wasn't for me. And I owe something to her for saving me? Well you know what? I wished she never did!"

Remus turned in his chair. "Harry!"

Dumbledore held up his hand. "No, Remus. He will have his say."

Harry looked between them not knowing what else he had to complain about. However, it came spilling out just the same. "How many people have died because of me? My parents, Cedric, Sirius, all dead because of me. How many more people will die just so I can live? I'm not worth it!

"You won't even let me in the Order until I turn seventeen. The way my record is going I probably won't make it to seventeen and I'll wind up taking you all down with me in the meantime."

He felt his breath quicken and his anger increase. "I hate being who I am! I'm not the boy-who-lived anymore. I'M THE BOY WHO JUST WON'T DIE!"

He looked back and forth at Dumbledore's saddened expression and Remus' horrified one. "So if I can't join the Order and I can't at least have some sort of say on who does what in my name then I want the lot of you out!"

He could see Remus was about to object, but before he could, Harry pulled out a piece of parchment from his back pocket and unfolded it. "This is my home. Sirius willed it to me. I am not going back to the Dursley's and I will not stand aside anymore and let anyone else die because of something I didn't know or didn't have a say in."

He handed the deed of ownership to Dumbledore who did not bother to read it, because he probably already knew about the will in the first place.

Harry set his jaw firmly in place and watched for their reactions.

Dumbledore handed the deed back to him. "If you insist in making this your home, Harry, then I will, of course, comply to your wishes for at your age I have little say in the matter. So without further ado we shall depart and wish you well in your battle against Voldemort."

Remus almost exploded. "What? Have you finally gone senile, Albus?"

Harry stood there stunned that Dumbledore was actually saying this.

"It is Harry's decision, Remus."

Remus Lupin looked tired and worn. The full moon was only a couple of nights past and he still bore the stigma of the change so he sat down abruptly. "Albus, you brought him up here to induct him into the Order, not abandon him."

Now Harry was stunned. "What?"

Dumbledore turned to Harry. "Yes, I felt with the mistakes I made last year that you should be part of the Order of the Phoenix, however I believe I have reconsidered. Certain members expressed their concern that you were still too young and not mature enough to take on such responsibility."

"But ..."

"And by your actions in this room I still do not agree with them. You have shown that you wish to be either self-sufficient or become part of the Order in matters of decision making. I agree you will be able to survive on your own, for a time. However you have not the experience nor tactical knowledge needed to advise such a group of individuals as the Order. So I am left with only one choice."

"But ..."

Dumbledore stood, resolute as ever. "Yes?"

Harry fell back into his chair, defeated. "All I wanted was to be left alone."

Dumbledore looked down at him. "And you shall have your wish, Harry."

He looked back up. "But what about the prophecy?"

Dumbledore pondered on that a moment. "I assume without proper train that you would receive at Hogwarts, when the time comes, you will die, and then you will have your wish of being left alone."

"Albus!"

Dumbledore looked over to Remus and back at Harry. "I will not hold back any further truths from you, Harry. Because I did so last year, your godfather is dead. So if you are looking to me for the same sort of treatment in the future you will sorely lacking. The cold truth of the matter is that if you separate from us, you will most probably die, and Voldemort will reign, showering many deaths and destructions as to make the sacrifices your parents, Cedric, and Sirius made seem like nothing in comparison.

"If however, you decide to take part in the Order, you will be treated with the same trust and loyalty you have had from me since your parents death some sixteen years ago. You will participate in the meetings and be aware of the chances each of us takes to ensure you live to fight along with us when the time comes. You will have a voice in the decision making but no more."

It occurred to Harry that he should just give up and do whatever Dumbledore says, because in the end he'll always be forced to do so anyway. It burned into his mind that he would be nothing more than a pawn in the headmaster's little chess game of life and death, and it made him very resentful.

"Fine."

"Pardon?" said Dumbledore. "I want to make sure you know precisely what I am asking of you, Harry. There will be no more games and no more disobeying my directions. You must do everything that I say or other people will surely die."

The old grandfatherly Dumbledore seemed to be gone from his features and all that remained was just another adult that would treat him like nothing but an impertinent child. It was Snape all over again except without the insults.

The wizened figure returned to his chair and made himself comfortable. "Do we have an understanding, Harry?"

Harry nodded.

The relative humor returned to Dumbledore's face at getting his way yet again. "There will be no formal ceremony for induction, only your agreement. And as such you will be given your first assignments."

This actually perked Harry's ears up. An actual assignment for the Order of the Phoenix?

"You will continue your Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape ..."

Harry protested. "But Voldemort tried to possess me and I threw him out!"

Dumbledore nodded. "This will not keep him from entering your dreams or from spying on you as you have spied upon him. You have need to control of access to your mind otherwise you will be placing others at risk. You will practice daily and nightly the lessons of Occlumency without fail and Professor Snape will know if you are not. "

Harry grudgingly agreed.

"You will recruit Hermione Granger to help you in your studies as I want you to be a top student this year. Your grades were acceptable last year, but if you are going to have a chance against Voldemort you will need to be the very best Hogwarts has ever offered."

Harry nodded, knowing he would have absolutely no life at all.

"Molly Weasley has expressed her concerns regarding Ron's exposure to the Order vicariously through you. As I know the relationship that you hold I realize the impossibility of everything remaining secret. Therefore, you will restrict yourself to matters concerning your assignments and general information only. If specifics are related to him then I will have no choice but to remove you from the Order and prevent him from ever joining."

Harry frowned. "Ron will hate me."

"He will be of age soon enough and may join of his own accord, but until then you and Ron must respect his mother's wishes."

Harry nodded and then frowned again. "What about Hermione."

"Hermione has proven herself on a number of occasions that she can keep a secret from even her best friends. Therefore I will allow you to speak to her about matters you deem necessary. Additionally she will need to know certain specifics in order to tutor you properly."

He thought of what it was going to be like under Hermione's thumb and cringed.

"And lastly, you will continue the D.A. club that you started last year."

Harry sat up at this. "What?"

Dumbledore smiled. "The club will be officially sanctioned by the school and you will be provided the necessities in order to teach it properly. You will follow the curriculum dictated by the Defense Against the Dark Art's teacher and work with students that are most interested in joining. It will still be on a volunteer basis, however, you will have a designated schedule that you will keep instead of the randomness of last year."

Harry was overwhelmed at being told he had to continue a club that he thought was lost forever after Umbridge and Fudge found out.

"Any questions?"

Harry leaned forward. "Tons."

3. Where There is a Will There is a Way

Chapter Three

Where There's a Will There's a Way

"Oh, Harry, this is fabulous news!" exclaimed Hermione as she bounced on his bed.

Ron was about to slip out of his skin in excitement. "So does he talk to us next? He's gonna invite us also, right?"

Harry prepared himself for the coming explosion. "Your mum doesn't want you to join."

Ron's face screwed up and he pounded the mattress of his bed in anger.

"Dumbledore said that you'd have to wait until your birthday." explained Harry.

"But that won't be until March!"

Hermione looked a little disappointed but accepted the rules. "At least you get to join this next term. I have to wait until my seventh year, won't I."

That seemed to alleviate Ron's feeling of being left out of the fun. At least he wouldn't be alone in his misery.

Harry tried to cheer them up. "Look , it won't be like I won't tell you about what's happening or anything. You just won't be able to go to the meetings. Dumbledore said I could tell you most of the stuff that goes on, just not particular assignments."

"Yeah," muttered Ron. "I guess that's better than nothing."

Now came the moment that Harry had dreaded. "Dumbledore wants you to tutor me."

"What? Me?" said a very shocked Ron.

Hermione eyed him when he looked at her. "I think he meant me, Ron."

Harry nodded. "Said he wanted me to be a top student this year."

Hermione grinned. "You already are a top student, but I can make you better." She rummaged around in her school bag, and pulled out her planner. "This will take some major reworking but I think I can fit it in. Did he say if you'd be able to take Potions?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Though he wouldn't tell me if Snape had a conniption when he told him to let me in the class. Kept smiling through the whole thing though. Makes me think he did."

That livened up Ron's mood. "Too bad we couldn't have been there to see that one."

Hermione interrupted their banter. "If we start bright and early tomorrow we can get you caught up with me by nightfall and then you can study on my schedule."

Ron looked at her as if she had just sprouted horns. "You're already that far ahead?"

She ignored his jibe and nodded. "Well, I've had half a day yesterday and almost a full day today."

"Almost?" He looked at his watch. "It's almost eight o'clock!"

She looked at her own watch. "Oh my gosh! I've got three more hours of Evocation to do before I go to bed. Come on Harry."

Hermione was up out of the bed and tugging on his sleeve. He looked to Ron for help before they left and was rewarded with an appalled look and a helpless shrug before he gave up and followed her up the stairs to their study.

The night wore on and Harry found he could barely keep his eyes open. He tried rubbing his eyes to relieve the burning sensation, but that just made him want to keep them closed.

"Why don't you go to bed?" offered Hermione. "You can catch up the extra time tomorrow during breakfast or lunch while you're eating.

He gave her a very tired stare. "You're kidding, right?"

She shrugged. "You can always tell Professor Dumbledore that you don't want to be in the Order."

He gave in. "Fine, fine. But I refuse to study during meals. Can we maybe take a ten minute break and go get something to drink?"

She looked at her watch and nodded. "I'll make a deal with you. We go get a drink and I quiz you on the way."

Harry groaned, but thought this was the better than sitting in a chair staring a book.

She smiled and stood up. "Okay, first question: What fields of magic lend their skills to Evocation."

Harry smiled. "Easy one: Transfiguration and the Dark Arts."

He opened the door and they made it halfway down the stairs before the next question. "Why is Evocation considered by some to be a offshoot of the Dark Arts?"

He slowed his pace until he reached the kitchen door. "Um ... because of the ability to tap into the different forms of energy. But I don't buy that because every form of magic can be used to hurt people as well as help. It's what you do with it that determines whether it's good or bad."

Hermione was pleased with his answer. "Very good, Harry!"

He shrugged and pushed open the door to find Ron and Ginny involved in a late night game of Wizard's Chess. Ron looked up and a smiled crossed his face.

"All done then?"

Harry grimaced and shook his head. "We've got another thirty minutes. Just came down for some Butterbeer if there's any left."

Ginny nudged a rook forward. "Mum brought in a couple of cases this afternoon for the meeting. I don't think they've been touched."

Harry opened the pantry and brought out three bottles. "Does anyone want one?"

Both Ron and Ginny raised their hands so he grabbed two more and handled them over to the table. He uncorked one and handed it to Hermione and she smiled her thanks then he just gave Ginny and Ron theirs and opened his for a really long pull.

"What kind of energies can you use?"

Ron looked up. "What?"

Harry shrugged. "It was the only way I could get her down here. I'm being quizzed." Then he turned back to answer. "Natural energies. You can't use magic to power magic."

Ron was covering his ears. "Lalalalalalala."

Harry laughed and finished off the rest of his first bottle. "All right, back upstairs."

The next morning brought a bright sunny day and Hedwig with the morning edition of the Daily Prophet.

Fudge Found Not Very Tasty At All

Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge is on the

outs with the wizarding public as rumors run

rampant that he and his administration withheld

crucial information about the re-appearance of

He Who Must Not Be Named.

Sources inside the Ministry reported that

Fudge ignored repeated attempts from Hogwarts

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore to convince him

of the Dark Lord's return even with an eye witness

and other sundry evidence.

It also needs to be noted that Fudge weighed

heavy on the management and reporters of the

Daily Prophet to produce false information given

to us as reportable fact. This reporter was once

threatened with bodily harm and loss of status

in the community if ...

Hermione folded up the paper and sat it on the table. "It just goes on from there about how Fudge has valued his position as a politician over the welfare of the wizarding community."

Harry was impressed. "Wow, who would have thought, the Prophet actually tells the truth for once."

Hermione sat her glass of orange juice down after taking a sip. "I still wouldn't put much into what they say. They're only letting this article be published because they said so many nasty things about you and Dumbledore last year, and they have to distance themselves from Fudge as fast as they can."

"Wonder who they're gonna replace him with," said Ron.

"What?" asked an astonished Harry.

Hermione gave Harry a very disappointed eye. "Really, Harry. How will you learn anything if you only scan the highlights of the paper," she admonished. "People are outraged that the cover-up has been going for so long and the Ministry hasn't been doing anything worthwhile about searching for Voldemort."

Ron cringed but didn't say anything.

"The most they've done is hand out refresher pamphlets to all the wizarding families about how to perform the Patronus Charm and basic safety procedures. I mean really! they haven't even informed all the Muggle families yet." Hermione was almost enraged by now. "My family almost didn't let me come back to Hogwarts this year when I told them."

"You told your parents?" asked Harry.

"Of course," she answered. "Muggle born families are at the greatest risk, aren't they. Now my dad won't even answer the door without a weapon of some sort."

Harry shrugged like it was a good thing at least that they were taking it so seriously.

"I'll be very glad when the Ministry finally rids themselves of the politicians and elects real leaders."

Ron piped up with some additional news. "Dad says the Prime Minister is visiting the Ministry this week for an inspection and interviews with the department heads."

"Of England?" asked Harry.

Ron nodded, "He's the liaison with the Muggle Government. parents were Wizards; he's a squib."

Harry almost laughed. "The Prime Minster is a squib?"

Hermione nodded. "And his word carries a lot of weight with the Wizengamot. It's they that'll elect the new Minister when the time comes."

Ron finished off his breakfast and sat back, patting his stomach. "I hope it's dad. They've been friends for a while. 'Course the Prime Minister makes it a point to be friends with all the department heads; makes his job that much easier when the time comes to do this sort of thing."

Harry thought about it for a minute. "Probably make the head of the Magical Law Enforcement, Minister. They'll need someone who's used to hunting down dark wizards."

Ron screwed up his face and nodded. "Probably."

"That's Amelia Bones, Susan's aunt."

Harry nodded. "She was at my hearing last year. Seems fair enough. She was impressed with me being able to conjure a 'Corporal Patronus'."

Ron rolled his eyes and Hermione beamed at Harry. the kitchen door almost slammed open with the presence of Mrs. Weasley.

"Ron, grab your cloak and your sister from upstairs we have to do some shopping. He's just got notice of his meeting with the Prime Minister. It's this afternoon and I want the family to look their very best." she looked up at Harry and Hermione. "You dears are welcome to come along if you like."

Hermione was quick to point out at Harry's furious nodding that they had much studying to do today to catch him up. Harry frowned and sat back in his chair.

Mrs. Weasley looked at her watch and back up at them. "Well I suppose you can take care of yourselves for a few hours. I want you two upstairs and your noses in the books right on, after we leave."

Ron passed through the door and started up the stairs when his mother called after. "Hurry up now. We have to stop by the Ministry and pick up your father."

Harry felt incredibly bad for the Weasley's. He knew Ron's father stood little to no chance at all becoming a candidate for Minister and they were going off to spend, probably the last of their money on dress clothes that they'll probably never wear but a few times. He sorely wished that he could do something to help them. But the infamous Weasley pride stood in the way. Even Fred and George wouldn't take the prize money from the Tri-Wizard Tournament until he threatened to throw it down the drain if they didn't.

He looked up at Hermione and saw what was most probably having the same thoughts running through her mind.

"Bye, dears," Mrs. Weasley called as she closed the door.

Hermione looked forlorn. "I wish there was something I could do to help them out. Something like this is going to break them, and Mr. Weasley doesn't stand a chance to be elected. He's very nice, but he's just too far down the Ministry ladder for consideration."

Harry nodded. "I wish Sirius would have left them something in his will instead of just me." The rusty wheels of Harry's mind came to a clamoring halt and he looked up. "That's it!"

Hermione looked at him strangely. "What it? And what's this about Sirius leaving you something in his will?"

Harry jumped up. "Come on!"

He raced upstairs and heard Mrs. Weasley's voice from the living room spouting her destination. "The Ministry of Magic!" It was accompanied by a whoosh of green flames and the last of them were gone.

"Harry! Wait up," chided Hermione. "What are you doing?"

He rushed to the roll top desk, pulled a piece of parchment out and began scribbling furiously. "Hedwig!"

"Harry," Hermione tried once more.

"Hold on and I'll explain."

The snowy-white owl fluttered down and landed on top of the desk, happily hooting for something to do. Harry tied off the letter and took her to the front door.

"Take this to Gringotts as fast as you can girl. You have to beat the Weasley's to the bank."

She hooted encouragingly and nipped at his hand before she took off.

"Okay, so what are you doing, Harry?" insisted Hermione with a murderous look in her eye if he had the gall to not tell her what was going on.

He smiled back at her and motioned for her to come upstairs. She squinted her eyes as if he was continuing to stall but followed him up. When they entered his and Ron's room he opened the his trunk and pulled out the envelope that contained the letter from Sirius.

Hermione got a very somber look about her once she found out who it was from and what the letter contained. About midway through reading it her eyes started pooling and few tears trailed down her cheeks until she reached near the end and suddenly her eyes widened and looked up at Harry then back down as if she didn't want him to see her reaction.

She handed it over after finishing and tried to stay as calm as she could. "He left you everything he had?"

Harry nodded. "Which turned out to be quite a bit not even counting the house." He paused. "That's what I was writing Gringotts about. I wanted them to transfer five hundred Galleons apiece to Ron, Ginny, and each of their parents in Sirius' name. Had them open up accounts for Ron and Ginny too."

She smiled. "That way they won't think of it as charity from you."

Harry nodded. "And they'll have to take it."

She reached over and hugged Harry as tight as she could. He slid a hand on her lower back and another on her neck in return. After a moment she slipped back, but not as far as she normally does after hugging him.

"Harry Potter, you are most likely the sweetest man I know."

She raised up and kissed him lightly on the lips, dropped back down and ran out of the room to her own and closed the door.

Harry stood there in shock, lightly touching his lips where she kissed him only moments before. He swiveled his head toward the door and started to take a step when he remembered he was holding Sirius' letter and went to replace it in the envelope. But something struck him as odd so he unfolded the parchment and followed the note past the halfway mark.

...and believe me when I say they want you to lean on them; especially that Gryffindor girl. She cares about you, Harry. She'd probably make sure I was dead if she found out I was telling you this, but I think it needs to be said and who says I make good choices about when to open my mouth.

His mouth fell open slightly, and he looked back toward the door. "Hermione?"

Harry double-checked for the fifth time that the person Sirius was talking about was his friend and a Gryffindor. And Hermione just kissed him. And called him the sweetest man ...

His legs felt extremely weak as he backed up against the bed and sat down, bouncing lightly on the old springs. "Hermione Granger ... cares about me?"

Things started clicking in his head. Events in the past that led up to this revelation. Her constant attention about every event in his life and her utter courage at being with him even though most girls wouldn't have thought twice of screaming and running away ... much like Cho did last year.

"Cho!" he smacked himself on the forehead. "She knew."

He thought back to his fifth year for any other signs, encountering a number, then back to his fourth year and Hermione kissing him for the first time on the platform back from Hogwarts.

"How long has this been going on, and why am I such a blind prat not to have seen it before?"

His emotions started tearing him back and forth, so much so that he continued talking to himself.

"She's your best friend." He paused. "Does that mean she can't be more?" Another pause. "But what if it doesn't work out and she hates me like Cho." And yet another pause. "But what if it does. I mean she knows me much better than Cho ever did and knows I'm a blithering idiot at times. Much like now when I'm talking to myself."

He stood up and started toward the door for the second time. "Why did she run away?" He paused. "Maybe I didn't kiss her back good enough ... or at all for that matter."

Harry needed to know the answer to far too many questions that were bombarding his mind all at once, and the only way he would get the answers, he decided, was to ask the proper person; namely the girl next door.

He tried to move toward the door for the third time and stopped himself yet again. "Come on, Potter, you're in Gryffindor. You're supposed to be brave."

Thoughts of Ginny Weasley popped into his head and her attraction to him for the first three years at Hogwarts. "What if it's just because I'm famous." He shook his head. "That's stupid. She's probably the only girl that has ever looked at me and not looked at my scar right off."

In fact he couldn't remember a time when she had ever looked at his scar. That in itself should say something; what, he had no idea, but something.

Screwing up as much courage as he could he threw Sirius' letter on his bed and set off for her room. Each step he took became more determined as he reached the landing and turned, taking the last four steps to her door and raising his hand to knock.

"Knock, Harry. Just knock," he whispered to himself.

His knuckles rapped twice almost inaudibly. Then he tried once more with a little more conviction, but before he had a chance to connect with the door, it opened. Hermione cracked the door open only a few inches, but he couldn't see her.

"Hermione," he choked out, feeling angry at himself for not clearing his throat before he came over.

"Yes?" she answered.

"May I come in?"

He heard her voice strain as she answered him. "I -- don't think that would be a good idea right now."

He started to ask why, but stopped before making a total fool of himself.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Harry -- I really ..."

He didn't let her finish. "When did you know?"

He heard her breath catch and a second later she released it, shuddering. "Fourth year."

He nodded to himself.

"Hermione?"

"Harry ... it's okay if you don't feel the same --- I mean ..."

"Hermione?" he tried again.

He heard her take a deep and even breath before she answered. "Yes."

"Can you forgive me for being a total and utter idiot."

She laughed. It had burst out of her in a sob, but she laughed. "No." And she laughed again.

Harry looked down and turned away from the door. "Well then I guess I better go."

He didn't get two steps away before she slammed the door open and grabbed a hold of his arm. "You walk away and I'll never forgive you."

He turned back around with a smile on his face. "See, I knew I could get you to open the door."

Her eyes blazed with fire and she balled up her fist and hit him on the chest ... but not too hard. He just stood there and took it before stepping closer to her.

Hermione's breath caught again when he brought his face closer to hers. She closed her eyes and lifted her heels off the ground in anticipation until he placed his arm close around her and his hand pressed her into him. Then she lost all bodily functions and melted into his arms and his waiting mouth.

Her lips are so soft, he thought as her mouth opened slightly and met his tongue halfway, softly brushing against one another. This was nothing like Cho, Harry decided. It was so much better ... not to mention a lot less wet.

Harry pulled back, not really wanting to end the kiss, but feeling like it was proper. He watched her eyes open slowly with a definite glazed look about them. She blinked very slowly and widely to clear her vision. Eventually she sank her feet back to solid ground and tried to focus.

"We better ... go study," she breathed while almost swaying to one side.

Harry was stone sober and his voice had a deeper edge to it than normal. "I really don't think I can focus on Transfiguration right now."

Hermione blinked up at him and nodded he agreement. "Maybe some pumpkin juice ..."

Harry took her hand and grinned as he started to lead her downstairs. "Good idea."

Two small glasses of juice and many captured glances later Harry broke the silence. "I thought you fancied Ron."

She smirked. "I did for a bit, but we'd never get along and then after Rita Skeeter's articles about me teasing you and Viktor along I thought about what it would be like. Nothing serious, but it planted the idea in my head that it might be quite nice and ... after the Tri-Wizard Tournament I think I finally realized what it would be like without you."

Harry nodded. Death had a funny way of opening your eyes.

"Plus, Ron's been corresponding with Luna Lovegood over the summer."

Harry almost dropped his glass. "Luna?"

Hermione smiled. "I caught him writing a letter to her two days before you arrived."

"I thought he couldn't stand her."

She shrugged. "Once he got passed the obvious weirdness of her attraction I think he found they had lots in common." Then as an afterthought. "Don't say anything to him yet. I think he wants to tell you himself. I mean he didn't swear me to secrecy or anything, but still."

He nodded his acquiescence. "I guess we'll have a lot to talk about then."

Her eyebrows raised. "You're going to tell him about us?"

He looked down at the table swiftly. "Well I wanted him to know, seeing as he's my best friend and all ... I wanted him to know before I ask you to be my girlfriend."

Hermione's hand twitched violently, knocking over her glass. Luckily it was empty. She made a grab for it before it fell to the floor and Harry snatched it upright.

"Sorry," she apologized.

Hermione couldn't meet his eyes anymore and she appeared very nervous. "Don't know why ..."

Harry didn't know what to do. "Don't you want ..." he trailed off as her eyes snapped back up to his.

"Yes!" she answered and covered her mouth immediately before she blurted out anything else. Her eyes pooled up again and threatened to spill over when Harry held his hand out for hers.

"Well then, it's semi-official." Then he added, "After I talk to Ron."

She nodded quickly.

He held her eyes for the longest time, not knowing when he ever felt so good about something. "Come on."

She wiped at her eyes with the heel of her free hand. "Where are we going?"

Harry smiled goofily, "I can't wait. I have to tell Ron now. We're skiving off transfiguration and going to Diagon Alley."

They raced upstairs and changed. Harry donned a Royal Blue button-down with his black slacks and grabbed his cloak on the way out. When he met Hermione downstairs fifteen minutes later she had white linen long-sleeve blouse with a blue and black plaid pleated knee skirt and black flats.

"You look beautiful," admired Harry.

She blushed shyly. "I really like the new look Harry."

He shrugged. "I had help at the clothier."

Hermione smiled. "I wondered where you developed a fashion sense over the summer." She smoothed out the cloak across his shoulders. "I'm glad I get you all to myself this year. I'm sure the girls at Hogwarts will be going green with envy."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm still the same person I was last year."

Her face went very serious for a moment and she closed into him. "No ... you're not. This year -- you're mine." And she kissed him lightly on the lips before turning to the fireplace and pinching off a bit of floo powder."

Harry was somewhat surprised to find Diagon Alley as busy as it was that early in the morning. From gathered conversations along the street they were able to tell that a lot of department heads were vying for the position of Minister as well and they also had meetings with the Prime Minister. Everyone was here to look their best.

Hermione trailed behind Harry for protection more than anything else, allowing him to make a pathway through the crowd as she held tightly to his hand. He checked over his shoulder every so often to make sure she was doing okay and had not been jostled too badly.

"Oi! Harry!"

He stopped so suddenly that Hermione bumped into him from behind.

"Sorry," he apologized.

He felt her hand at his back and was reassured that no damage was done.

"Did you hear Ron?" she asked.

Harry nodded trying to search the crowd.

"Over here," yelled Ron as he waved above the heads of passers-by.

They pushed through three or four more people and came to a halt in a very long line outside the Clothier that Harry had visited two days before. Mrs. Weasley looked extremely worried that they weren't going to be able to get their purchases in time for the meeting. The look of impatience shivered all over her body.

Ron shrugged in the direction of the store. "Mum's about to go ballistic."

"Excuse me, please. Oh, hello Harry, Hermione." Ron's dad said as he closed the distance between the rest of them. "Molly, I've convinced the shopkeeper to arrange the customers in order of their meetings. Some people are here for meetings not scheduled until next week."

"What! I never ..."

"Mum, chill out," said Ron.

"Eleven o'clock meeting with the PM. Who's got the eleven o'clock meeting?" the shopkeeper yelled. "Last call."

Harry looked around and nobody stepped forward.

"All right then twelve o'clock!"

Someone from the crowd yelled, "He's eating lunch at twelve ya bleedin' idiot!"

The shopkeeper blushed and mutter to himself, "Oh, right ... um, one o'clock then!"

Harry thought Mrs. Weasley was going to mow the crowd down. "One o'clock right here!"

People made way, stepping to the side as Molly Weasley pushed through followed by an apologetic Mr. Weasley, her family, and Harry and Hermione. Once the shopkeeper caught Harry's eye his face beamed.

"Mr. Potter, fancy seeing you here again."

Harry smiled. "Hello ... um, brought the family with me this time."

"Wonderful, wonderful. Do come in." He ushered the rest of them in and closed the door to the outside effectively shutting out most of the noise; enough so that everyone in the shop heard Ginny gasp in surprise.

Harry followed her eyes to his hand and the fact his fingers were interlaced with Hermione's. Luckily Harry was blocking everyone's view but Ginny's and nobody else saw. Hermione stepped back putting a little distance between herself and her very soon to be boyfriend.

Ginny's eyes were lit up.

"Ginny, dear. What's wrong?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

The youngest Weasley looked over to her mother. "Um ... just looking at Harry's clothes. It's a new outfit. Very nice."

The shopkeeper was pleased. "Purchased at this establishment only two days ago, young miss."

Mr. Weasley was off looking at a rather odd blend of bright purple cloaks when Molly stopped him. "Arthur, we are here to purchase conservative outfits for a very important meeting, not reliving a second childhood."

"The entire family then?" the shopkeeper asked.

Molly frowned. "Afraid we can't afford ..."

Harry laid his hand on her arm. "Mrs. Weasley?" He held up a finger to the shopkeeper. "Be right back."

They took a few steps to the side, out of earshot.

"I know what you are about to offer, Harry and it's very sweet of you, but the Prime Minister will have to accept us for who we ..."

He cut her off before she got on a roll. "Mrs. Weasley, have you checked your Gringotts account within the last couple of days?"

She seemed surprised that Harry of all people would be asking such a question, but he was prepared for that as well.

"The reason I asked is because I just received a note that Sirius left for me in my vault when we were here the other day. "

She almost took him into a hug. "Oh, my dear, I'm so sorry."

He waved it off. "What I'm getting at is that he left me an inheritance and he told me in the letter that he left something for Ron, Ginny, you and Mr. Weasley as well."

She gasped and covered her mouth. "He didn't!" She shook her head. "That should all go to you, dear."

Harry almost laughed. "Mrs. Weasley, he left me more than enough and the house at Grimmauld Place also. Go to Gringotts please. We'll get Mr. Weasley, Ron, and Ginny fitted up."

She looked at him like she didn't know what to believe and then back at her children and her husband. "All right, Harry." She turned to her husband who was looking at some red and yellow striped socks. "Arthur! Listen to the owner. He fitted Harry up nicely. I'll be right back."

Ron looked at Harry with confusion. "What'd you say to my mum?"

Harry smiled. "You'll see in a few minutes." Then he went to the shopkeeper and whispered into his ear to fit them all up properly, he'd make sure everything was paid for.

"You first, sir." the shopkeeper motioned to Mr. Weasley. "Might I suggest something from our distinguished executive collection."

Harry returned to Ron and motioned for him to come over to the other side of the shop so they could talk in private.

"What's going on. All this whispering is playing on my nerves," asked Ron.

Harry looked over to Hermione and Ginny whispering and smiled. "Ron, I'm going to ask Hermione to be my girl."

The red-head's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline in shock. "You're what!" he almost yelled. Harry shushed him.

"Since when?" asked Ron.

"Since right after you left to pick up your dad."

Ron thought it over for a moment. "Yeah I guess I could see that."

Harry smirked. "Thanks, I knew you could," he answered semi-sarcastically.

"You know what I mean."

Harry nodded. "So."

Ron looked on like he was still pondering their relationship. "So."

He tried to give Ron an opening to tell him about Luna, but he wasn't rising to the bait.

"You next, young sir," said the shopkeeper waving Ron over.

From the look on Ginny's face, Hermione was filling her in on the newest happening in her love life and receiving much grinning and many hugs in response. He waited for a break in the girl-talk before he intervened.

"All done then?"

Ginny slapped him on the arm. "It's about time you woke up and smelled the ghoul in the attic. Thought I'd have to sit through another year of her pining away."

Hermione was almost insulted. "I did not pine. There was no pining."

Ginny laughed. "That's not what you said in your sleep last night and in the dormitories, and at lunch in the Great Hall."

Hermione was appalled. "Ginny Weasley I'm never telling you anything ever again."

She snorted. "That's what you said when I told Sirius."

Hermione huffed and was about to offer up another retort when the door to the shop slammed open. "Arthur! Arthur!"

Mr. Weasley rushed out of the dressing room with his billowing clothes hanging off of his body. "Molly, what is it?"

She was wiping away at her eyes with a handkerchief. "That man ... that dear, dear man ..."

Ron stuck his head out. "Oi! What's the ruckus?"

The shopkeeper was right behind Mr. Weasley tapping the clothes and shrinking them to proper proportions.

"Sirius Black has left us money in his will," she sniffed.

4. The Prime Minister

Chapter Four

The Prime Minister

Harry and Hermione walked the length and breadth of Diagon Alley waiting for the Weasley's to finish and watching the comings and goings of some very distraught wizards in their attempts to find just the right thing to make them stand out of the crown. It wouldn't have so busy if they weren't having to bring their entire families along with them and to purchase school supplies as well.

"Oh, look, Harry!" Hermione pointed across the street to where Gambol & Japes once stood and in its place was Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. There was a sign under the marquis that had caricatures of Fred and George Weasley having a duel. Each were denoted by the traditional Weasley sweater. Fred's wand transformed into a rubber chicken while George laughed on.

They waited for an opening in the crowd and rushed over to the front of the shop. They peered into the front window to see that Fred and George were not kidding when they said that business was booming. Hogwarts students were three deep in front of each bin. Fred was assisting the customers while George was behind the counter taking people's money.

"Maybe we ought to come back some time when they aren't so busy," Harry suggested and Hermione nodded with wide eyes.

"Feel up for some ice cream before we go back and ... study?" Hermione asked.

Harry licked his lips.

Twenty minutes and two scoops of orange pixie sherbet later they spotted a newly clothed and very happy Weasley clan passing by Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. Harry and Hermione abandoned their empty cups and made their way behind them for the Floo queue that was building.

Harry tapped Ron on the shoulder. "Off to the Ministry then?"

The red head spun around and couldn't stop himself from grinning like a fool. "Harry! Sirius ... he ..."

Harry nodded. "I know all about it."

Mrs. Weasley had heard them and turned around, still weepy eyed. "Harry, Hermione. You'll come with us, of course."

Harry looked over at Hermione to see if it was okay. She shrugged. "It'd be nice to see the Ministry when we aren't having to sneak around."

He smiled and nodded to Mrs. Weasley. "We can wait in Mr. Weasley's office."

Molly frowned and shook her head. "Nonsense. You two are family and you're dressed just fine. I'm sure the Prime Minister wouldn't mind meeting you as well."

Hermione's shuddered once and her face flushed. "I'm ... I'm not dressed for a meeting ... "

Harry pulled her close. "I said you looked beautiful and I wasn't saying it to be nice."

She blushed and slipped her hand into the crook of his arm to pull him closer and hide her face. Ron just rolled his eyes.

"You aren't going to be like this all term are you?" he asked Harry and didn't get a response because it was their turn to Floo.

The Atrium of the Ministry of Magic was just as Harry remembered it on his visit for his hearing last year around this time. the fountain had been repaired and stood just as it did before Dumbledore animated it to help in the fight against Voldemort. They all approached the security desk upon arriving and were issued passes and had their wands weighed. Harry looked at his badge before pinning it to the folds of his cloak.

1:00 Meeting/Prime Minister

"They're down in Courtroom Ten, Arthur," said the guard. "Something about not wanting to be disturbed."

Harry's blood went considerably cooler as he leaned over to Hermione and Ron. "That's where my hearing was held."

Hermione didn't look too happy about that piece of information and Ron was equally discouraged. Mr. Weasley led them around to the elevator as Mrs. Weasley was giving out orders for proper decorum.

"I want you all to be on your best behavior. this meeting is very important to your father and to the family. Ron please make an effort to sit up straight and look interested. Ginny I don't want any of your cheek. Harry, Hermione, just be yourselves. You both are very well mannered."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Mum, we know ..."

He was cut short by his father's sudden halt and their subsequent bumping into him from behind.

He turned around and shushed them. "That's the Prime Minister at the lift. Ready now?"

Hermione and Ginny smoothed their blouses out while Mrs. Weasley brushed a loose strand of hair from Ron's face and looked sadly at Harry's own hair knowing it was useless to even try.

"Mr. Prime Minister!" Arthur strode forward with his hand out.

A rather tall and refined man stood by the lift dressed in a very conservative dark grey Muggle business suit. Harry recognized him immediately from the Muggle newspapers he used to pinch from neighborhood trash bins the previous summer while trying to find any information about Voldemort's activities. He smiled graciously and took Arthur's hand in his own.

"Arthur I've told you countless times about that Mr. Prime Minister rubbish when I'm not out with the Muggles."

Ron's dad laughed in response. "Very well, very well ... Robert, I'd like to introduce my family. This is my wife, Molly, my son Ron, and my daughter Ginny."

Robert stuck out his hand and shook each of theirs in turn. "Pleased to meet you all." Then his eyes drifted to Harry and Hermione. "And are these yours as well, Arthur?"

Mr. Weasley smiled. "Might as well be with as close as they are to the family. They are friends of my children from Hogwarts. May I introduce you to Miss Hermione Granger and Mr. Harry Potter."

The Prime Minister paused for a brief second at the mention of Harry's name, but then shook his and Hermione's hand as well. "Pleasure meeting you both as well. You will be attending the meeting with the family, I hope?"

From the tone of his voice Harry concluded that it wasn't so much of a request as an order.

"Yes sir," he answered.

The clanging and clamoring of the lift announced it's arrival at the Atrium and the doors opened to an empty cart. Once they were all in the Prime Minister said, "Level nine."

The lift descended one floor and the doors opened with the announcement. "Level Nine Department of Mysteries."

A feeling of dread came over Harry as they stepped out into the corridor and caught sight of the door at the far end where inside his godfather lost his life almost two months previous.

Hermione squeezed his hand to distract him and it worked, for the most part. They passed the door to the left and descended down the steps to the courtroom corridor and finally to Courtroom Ten.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief they arrived and he noticed the pit of the room where normally sat only one chair with chains rattling noisily around waiting for a prisoner to restrain had been replaced with a round table with seven simple chairs.

The Prime Minister motioned for them to have a seat and took his lastly next to Mr. Weasley.

"Well, down to business I suppose." He reached his hand under the table and withdrew a manila folder which he opened and reveled several sheets of parchment. "I will ask each of you to answer one question for me. There will be no right or wrong answer to the question. Arthur, I think you know me well enough to know have already narrowed the list of choice down to a handful of names. The questions are for my own curiosity and peace of mind."

Arthur nodded.

It is also important that you all answer as truthfully as you can. I am a politician. I am used to being kissed up to and can spot it a mile away. In other words I don't want you to tell me what you think I want to hear."

They all nodded their understanding.

"The first is directed to Molly. What is your foremost concern regarding the ascension of Lord Voldemort?"

Ron, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley flinched at the name.

"I ... am afraid for my family and ... my friends."

The Prime Minister nodded and marked something on his parchment. "Ron, you're next. If given the choice of playing for the Chudley Cannons or being Head Boy at Hogwarts next year, which would you choose?"

Harry almost laughed out loud and was only held back from the serious look on the Prime Minister's face.

Ron looked from side to side at his Mother and Father. "Well ... the Cannons."

The scratching of the quill was the only thing that was heard afterward. "Ginny, what career choice will you make upon graduating Hogwarts."

She looked startled at the question and a bit queasy at the same time. "I haven't really given it much thought, yet. With what's been going on mean."

More scribbling.

"Hermione, What's your favorite Book?"

Hermione looked alarmed. Harry had expected Hogwart's, A History or some magical textbook, but instead she looked down and said. "Dr. Zhivago."

Ron started to say something but was held back by the squeezing hand of his mother clamping down on his wrist.

"Arthur, what would you do to end the terror of Voldemort if you were made Minister of Magic?"

Harry stiffened at the questioned. Not because of the mention of Voldemort's name, but because of what Ron's dad had already done in the fight. He expected a long drawn out plan of attack that was devised by Dumbledore, but instead all he said was, "Anything that is necessary."

After one final scribble the Prime Minister stood and shook Mr. Weasley's hand. Thank you all for coming. It was a pleasure to meet each and every one of you and I hope to see you all again very soon."

Hermione looked very confused and Harry was wondering why he hadn't been asked a question, weird as they were.

The Weasley's being closest to the door filed out first, but a restraining hand at Harry's elbow held him back. "A moment if you will, Mr. Potter. I would like to speak to you in private."

A look from Mr. Weasley said that it was okay and reassured Harry as to the intentions of the Prime Minister. Hermione closed the door behind her as they all left and Harry took his seat again.

"There now. For you, I have more than one question, Mr. Potter."

Harry noticed that he hadn't been addressed by his first name as all the others.

"Yes sir."

The Prime Minister set aside his quill and parchment. "This will be totally off the record, but a necessary conversation nonetheless. As you may be aware, I am a squib."

Harry nodded.

"And as such I am able to keep track of the Daily Wizard news and such through official channels and the Prophet, the WWN and other sources."

Harry cringed. He knew he was thought of a nutter by most of the wizarding world. The Prime Minister chuckled.

"Don't worry, Mr. Potter. In the position that I hold I am quite familiar with how the press views prominent people, and the large amount of salt one my take with the reports. That is why I wanted to have this conversation with you ... so I may sift through the manure to find the truth so to speak."

Harry nodded with a small bit of relief. "Yes sir."

"I read your interview with Rita Skeeter that was published in the Quibbler last year. My first question was if everything in the article was true?"

"Yes sir." he responded immediately.

"So you and Headmaster Dumbledore knew of Voldemort's return over a year ago?"

"Yes sir. We tried to tell Fudge ..."

A sour look fell on the Prime minister's face. "Yes, well Fudge will not be Minister for very much longer, now will he?"

The question was rhetorical and Harry didn't answer.

"What is your opinion of Arthur and his family?"

Again Harry didn't hesitate. "They're great, of course."

The Prime Minister waved him off. "That's not what I want to know and you know that, Mr. Potter."

Harry looked down and the table and back up again slowly. "I've never known anyone like them, sir."

The Prime Minister collected his folder and withdrew a page of parchment. "This is a very recent tally of their Gringotts account. As of yesterday they had almost nothing to speak of and for some reason this morning there appeared two thousand gold Galleons transferred from your account. Can you explain this?"

Harry was in sudden shock. "How ..."

I am about to endorse a candidate for the Ministry of Magic, Mr. Potter. The last person that held this position had his hand in so many people's pockets he couldn't listen to the wisest wizard of our time when the most evil had returned. Now you tell me, Mr. Potter. Do you think I should investigate the personal accounts of those I endorse?"

Harry nodded. "It's not what you think sir. The Weasley's ... well, they're poor, sir. And Mrs. Weasley wanted to purchase new clothes for the meeting today."

"So they asked you for two thousand Galleons?"

Harry's eyes widened. "No sir! They'd never take anything from me and believe me I've tried, in the past, to offer , but they won't take a single Knut." He paused. "See, my godfather died just recently and left me with a large inheritance."

"So you shared it with the Weasley's for services rendered?"

Harry didn't know what the Prime Minister was getting at.

"No, I had it snuck into their account this morning as a late inheritance. I told them I had received a letter that told me it was in there so they would take the money and not think someone was trying to help them out."

The Prime Minister looked on thoughtfully.

"Mrs. Weasley, just this morning, said that you'd have to accept that their family was poor."

He chuckled at that. "Did she now?"

"Yes sir."

He leaned forward on his forearms and the tone of seriousness increased. "Now tell me what you know about Voldemort's return."

Harry started to recount his tale after the events in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, but was cut off. "As I told you before, Mr. Potter, I've already read the Quibbler. Tell me something that I don't already know."

Harry didn't know if this was someone that he could trust, and experience with politicians told him already that, if anything, they couldn't be trusted. So he filled him in on things he might already know or have been told by other sources. Such as the attempt to gain access tot he Department of Mysteries and the prophecy within.

"But you've heard the prophecy, haven't you?'

He thought it best not to lie. "I told you is was broken and I went after Lestrange. I couldn't hear it over the fight and the fact that people were trying to kill me right then."

The Prime Minister nodded. "I know you're hiding something from me, but we'll move on. What exactly is Voldemort after this year?"

"Pardon?"

The Prime Minister began ticking off on his fingers. "Your first year he was after the Philosophers Stone, your second some diary had had tried to kill you, your third, his heir apparent tried to murder you, your fourth, he kidnapped you for your blood and again to kill you, and last year a prophecy was held in the balance. All in all I'd say there was the start of a trend; don't you think, Mr. Potter?"

"Um ..."

"So what's it this year?"

Harry looked down at the table. "I wouldn't know sir."

"If I recommended Mr. Weasley to the post of Minister would I get to know?"

Harry looked back up.

"Is that why he brought you along today?" he said coolly.

Harry started to feel his ire start to rise up at the insult to Ron's dad. "Mrs. Weasley invited us, and it was because we were at Diagon Alley without an escort, not because ..."

"Very well," the Prime Minister cut him off.

Harry stood up, almost knocking the chair to the floor in the process. "I don't know what Voldemort is after this year. Make your decision about Mr. Weasley based on his ability not mine or anything to do with me, because he is a great man. He's risked his ... he'd do anything ... " He felt his words getting tangled and took a deep breath to slow down and think. "He'd do anything to stop Voldemort and keep his family safe. That means a lot in my book. If you want another person who'll close their eyes and hold their hand out to who'll ever put money in it, why don't you recommend almost any other person that works here."

The Prime Minister smiled in reaction, and that threw Harry off. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Potter. It's been quite enlightening."

Harry was dismissed and left the room with his nerves shot.

Mr. Weasley escorted them to the Fireplace on the Atrium level and once they were out of earshot asked Harry, "What was all that about?"

He couldn't tell them about the Gringotts account so he told them everything else. "He just asked about the Quibbler interview I gave last year and if I was telling the truth or not."

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Probably sealing Fudge's fate once and for all."

Everyone nodded except for Hermione who knew that Harry wasn't telling them everything. But she let the subject lay until they returned to Grimmauld Place.

When they returned to Grimmauld Place Harry made a beeline to the study with Ron and Hermione in tow. Ginny had to stay down stairs and help Mrs. Weasley with dinner preparations and a short shopping trip to replenish supplies.

Once the door was closed to the study Hermione and Ron looked at him for an update to what really went on.

He went off on me. Wanting to know about Voldemort and what he was doing this year, as if I would know, and then he started making it seem like your dad was going to be taking bribes like Fudge or something."

Ron almost exploded. "What!"

Hermione covered her mouth. "The inheritance!"

Harry nodded.

Ron looked back and forth, confused. "What inheritance, so he left Mum and dad a couple hundred Galleons? I wouldn't exactly call it an inheritance. "

Harry turned back. "What about what Sirius left you."

"He left me and inheritance? Since when"

Harry looked like he let the cat out of the bag and figured Mrs. Weasley didn't want Ron to know about his vault and that they had received a thousand Galleons as well. "Um ... your mum didn't tell you?"

Ron's eyes lit up. "Is that what she was all blubbering about with dad? Sirius left me some money?"

Harry nodded. "All of you. He opened an account for you and Ginny too."

"What?"

Harry could almost see Gold Galleons flash in Ron's eyes. "I guess your mum has your key."

He was off and out the door running downstairs before Hermione could tell him that they were probably already gone. So instead she dropped down in her chair and cracked open a book. Harry stared at he for a moment before he reluctantly did the same.

Before they had even finished the first page Ron had returned sullen and forlorn with news that they were gone and he'd have to wait until they got back to assault his mother for the key to his very own Gringotts vault and at the same time wondering why on earth they would be studying at a time like this.

Hermione peered over the top of her book. "Ron, it's not that were not happy for you and all, but it's just money."

He smirked. "Coming from a person who has never felt what is like to never rub two Galleons together not to mention actually hold one for once and not have to spend it."

The rest of the afternoon carried on with bouts of studying and listening to Ron change his mind every few minutes about what he was going to do with the Gold once he actually laid hands on it.

Hermione took these times to play footsy underneath the table with the hem of Harry's pants leg while looking very studious at the same time above the table. He would occasionally catch a glimpse of her smiling or humming a unknown tune under her breath. It was quite possible he hadn't seen her so happy since she received her first testing score in their first year of classes at Hogwarts.

Ginny appeared at the doorway later with the announcement that dinner was ready. Ron bolted down the stairs not realizing that his mother had returned.

"What's he on about?"

Harry laughed. "You might want to catch him up. It concerns you too."

Ginny crooked an eyebrow and looked at Hermione who was nodding as well. Then she turned around and made a dash down the stairs. "Wait for me!"

Harry got up and gave Hermione a hand as well, but she stopped him before heading out.

"I've been waiting to do this all day." She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down to her lips for a mouth searching kiss. Afterward she took his hand and let him trail along down the stairs looking a little simpleminded.

It didn't take long to hear the yelling that was coming from down the last flight behind the kitchen door, and they waited to open it, listening instead.

"But, Mum. It's my vault. Sirius willed it to me."

"And I am your mother, so it befalls me to look out for your best interests. You won't be seventeen for another seven and a half months. You don't need all your money to go out and buy the fastest broom on the market."

"I wasn't going to buy a broom ... I wanted ..."

"Mum, Ron wants to take a girl out."

"Ginny!"

"Oh, Ron. You weren't going to tell her, and if you want her to have any sympathy on you whatsoever you need to tell her the truth."

"Is this true, Ronald?"

They didn't hear anything, only guessing that he was nodding his head because of Mrs. Weasley's next statement.

"Well then I suppose ... but only if you promise me you'll take out a few Galleons. I want you to save the rest for your future. Your father and I didn't have a dime when we started out and we've regretted it ever since."

"Thanks, Mum. I promise only a few Galleons."

"What's her name, dear?"

Hermione looked up at Harry and smiled. "Now," she whispered.

"Luna ... Luna Lovegood," said Ron as Harry and Hermione walked through the door.

Harry tried his best to act like he hadn't heard a word. "What about Luna?"

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Ron was just telling me about his ..."

"Mum, no!"

Harry looked to Hermione and his eyebrows knitted. "Your what?"

Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips. "Oh for goodness sakes Ron. Having a girlfriend is nothing to be ashamed of."

Ron's face screwed and he dropped down into a chair with a look of dread. Harry looked a little shocked but tired not to over do it. "You and Luna, huh? Cool."

Ginny smirked at her brother. "I told you he wouldn't think it was weird."

Mrs. Weasley shooed them to the table as she levitated a large pot of beef stew to the center. "I've heard that name before, haven't I? Lovegood?"

"She was with us at the Ministry in June," offered Harry.

Hermione nodded. "And her father is the editor of the Quibbler."

She snapped her fingers. "That's the one that published Harry's interview about You-Know-Who."

Harry nodded.

She smiled broadly. "Well, Ron. Looks like you hooked a big fish. I've heard the Quibbler has been selling very well since that edition. They must be doing very well indeed." Then as an after thought. "Perhaps her father might be able to get you on next summer as a part time job."

Ron looked on in horror. "Mum! We haven't even gone on our first date yet. I might not even be dating her next summer."

She waved him off as she sat glasses of pumpkin juice in front of them. "Doesn't matter. If you treat her right, he'll remember and be thankful. It's always good to have connections in high places."

Mid way through their meal the fireplace roared to life in a blast of green flame and Arthur Weasley's head appeared. "Molly!"

She rushed over the to the fireplace with the rest of the crowd right behind her. "Arthur, what's wrong."

He had a very serious look on his face. "The Prime Minister called an emergency session of the Wizengamot right after you left. Dumbledore's here and won't tell me what's going on. Harry what did you say to him in that room?"

Everyone turned and looked at him.

"Um ..." he looked quite ill and his stomach churned at that instant. "He was ... erm ... "

Hermione huffed. "Oh, for goodness sake. Mr. Weasley the Prime Minister thinks you were accepting bribes and Harry defended you."

Ginny, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley all chorused together. "What?!"

"The inheritance." Harry explained. "The Prime Minister did account checks on all the people he was considering indorsing and found the money had been transferred that morning. He thought you were being bribed and wanted to ask me what it was all about."

Mrs. Weasley looked as if she was going to seize up. Mr. Weasley just looked grim. "He wants all of you here, now; especially you, Harry. We're all to appear before the Wizengamot in fifteen minutes."

Ron was dumbfounded. "But .. but Sirius left the money to us. How can they think it was a bribe?"

Mrs. Weasley straightened up, suddenly looking stronger. "Get your cloaks. If they want to put me before the Wizengamot, I'll give them a piece of my mind first."

The mood was somber in the tenth floor hallway before Courtroom Ten where The Weasley's, Harry, and Hermione stood. They all looked a nervous as Harry felt. They were told by a clerk to wait in the hallway until another group arrived, and then enter together.

Fifteen minutes went by on top of the fifteen minutes they were allocated to arrive and standing in the cold hallway was not doing anyone's tempers any good.

Ron was the first one to crack. "What the bloody hell are we waiting for?"

Mrs. Weasley flinched. "Ronald watch your mouth."

He was about to respond but was cut off by the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs at the end of the hall. Their worst fear was realized when Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and Arthur Weasley's direct superior, turned the corner.

Mr. Weasley met her halfway down the hall. "Amelia, what is this all about?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I was pulled from a very nice dinner with my niece so whatever it is better be important."

Once they joined up, everyone started to file into the room. The decor had been returned to its very intimidating interrogation looking room, minus the chair and chains.

Dumbledore sat in center chair with the rest of the Wizengamot sitting on the benches on either side. Harry noticed the Prime Minister standing behind them as they entered. The door closed with a resounding echo throughout the chamber, and Dumbledore leaned forward.

"Mr. Prime Minister, your final arguments please."

Hermione squeezed his hand. He looked at her and shrugged.

The Prime Minister stepped forward with his hands clasped behind his back. "As you know I have stayed in touch with the various department heads and sub-heads since my tenure with the Muggle Government. I have also stayed abreast of the news through various sources of my own. And I have to say that the way this Ministry has been run over the course of the last few years is nothing but frightful.

"So in making my decision I had to take into account only one question. Who would I trust with my life and those of my family's lives in light of the return of Voldemort." He turned to Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Bones.

"There is no question that Amelia has been a very loyal and fair Head beholden to none but the law, so I choose her."

Something started to occur to Harry but he couldn't tell anyone else because all eyes were on them.

"However, I have also come to find out today about the unquestioned loyalty and sacrifice of another individual ... Arthur Weasley."

He turned and looked Ron's dad in the eye. "In my opinion with his experience in matters other than those he is charged with, he has performed with integrity and courage; prime qualities in a Minister."

Harry heard Mrs. Weasley gasp and Hermione squeezed his hand tightly.

"I place my endorsement equally between these two individuals."

Dumbledore leaned forward and smiled. "Thank you for your wise council, Mr. Prime Minister, and I hope to have you for tea before your return to the Muggle world."

The Prime Minister turned, shook both Mr. Weasley's and Mrs. Bones' hands and left the room.

Dumbledore leaned back. "If the Wizengamot would let their pleasure be known if they accept the two choices of consideration. For?'

Almost all hands rose in favor of voting for one of the two as the new Minister of Magic.

"Opposed."

Only five were raised.

Dumbledore smiled again. "Then I suppose we should make our decision. All those in favor of Amelia Bones ..."

"Albus," Mrs. Bones interrupted.

"Yes, Amelia. Is there something you wish to say?"

She stepped forward and Harry prepared himself for a long winded speech about how she would be better suited for the position, but that wasn't what came out at all.

"Members of the Wizengamot. Due to matters that I would rather keep private, I would like to decline the nomination of Minister as I would not be able to fully devote my time and energies to the position with any certainty. Therefore, I instead wish to be considered for the position of Deputy Minister under Arthur Weasley."

Harry saw Ginny out of the corner of his eye grab Ron's upper arm and squeeze the life out of it.

Dumbledore nodded. "Is there any objection to this proposition?"

The same five hands that had a problem before raised their hands again. Harry tried to memorize their faces before they faded from view into the shadows again.

"Very well, those in favor of Amelia Bones as Deputy Minister with Arthur Weasley as Minister of Magic?"

Everyone's hand raised except for the five and then pandemonium broke out.

What had to be an hour later, the Wizengamot and the new Ministry of Magic accompanied by his family and close friends adjourned to the Atrium for a photo shoot for the Daily Prophet.

The Prime Minister was there shaking hands and getting in on all the action while Harry and Hermione tried to blend into the background.

Mr. Weasley wouldn't have any of it though, pulling Harry and Hermione to the forefront for a family photo that was promised to him personally and not for publication.

Once all of the fanfare was over and almost all of the Wizengamot gone did actual conversation take place instead of the constant congratulations of the following two hours.

"Had me nervous there, Robert," Mr. Weasley confessed.

"Will there be anything before I leave, Arthur?" interrupted Mrs. Bones.

He shook his head. "Nothing tonight Amelia. It'll be a long day tomorrow; get a good night's sleep."

She nodded and left in a less than excited mood.

"I hope it's nothing too bad ... her personal problems, I mean."

The Prime Minister shook his head. "Actually Arthur, she was my first choice, but she mentioned what was wrong this morning at lunch. So after my conversation with Potter here, I thought it a perfect ploy to use her in a secondary position as Deputy."

Harry was startled much as Mr. Weasley. "You mean you intended for Mr. Weasley to win?"

The Prime Minister laughed loudly and trailed off. "I'm sorry Harry. It's been too long since I've been around people naive in the ways of politics. Yes, it was my intension to have Arthur as Minister once we talked, so I didn't want to put anyone else up that had a remote chance of beating him or splitting the vote so much that his reign as Minister would be in jeopardy after every decision he made.

So I arranged for Amelia to be his contender knowing that she would decline, and hoping she would offer herself up as Deputy instead."

He clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Never make a decision as a leader that will ever come out as anything than what you desire in the end, Harry." He laughed some more. "Oh, that was good."

Ron shook his head and whispered in Harry's ear. "Barking."

Harry nodded.

"Robert, I thought you were supposed to be here next week. Why the sudden change in schedule?"

The Prime Minister's laughing slowed to a trickle. "Voldemort is on the move. Attacked a Muggle village north of Ottery St. Catchpole two nights ago and I haven't heard a word about it since. Thought it might be time for a regime change. Maybe shake things up a bit and get someone in here that will do what needs to be done instead of being led around by his pocketbook."

Harry thought about what Remus had said the other night about the Death Eater's March and from the look on Hermione and Ron's faces they thought the same.

"So you got the Wizengamot to toss out Fudge and elect someone in the span of one day?"

The Prime Minister shrugged. "He was on his way out. It was just a matter of when." He looked at his watch and back up. "Well, have to get back to the house before Sylvie starts to think I'm dead or something."

They shook hands and Mr. Weasley turned back to his wife. "I'll probably be here late tonight. Lots to get rolling before tomorrow. Why don't you take the kids back to the house and I'll see you tomorrow."

She hugged him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'm very proud of you Arthur."

He blushed slightly and pecked her back.

"Bye, Dad," said Ginny and Ron together.

Harry and Hermione waved as he disappeared behind the security desk to the lift and back to work.

Mrs. Weasley clapped her hands for attention. "How about a little celebration?"

Smiles were had all around.

5. The Best Year Yet

Chapter Five

The Best Year Yet

The empty bottle of Butterbeer sat on the kitchen table as Harry pointed his wand at it. "Fresen!"

His wand spit out something white on the bottle, but not much else.

Hermione's eyebrows knitted. "Try picturing the moisture in the air before you use the incantation."

Harry looked up. "What's moisture in the air look like?"

"Um ... rain?" she said, unsure.

Harry crooked an eyebrow at her and looked back at the bottle picturing tiny droplets of rain in the air and using them to power his spell. "Fresen!"

Cool wind exploded out the tip of his wand along with a white jet of frost, enveloping the bottle. When he pulled back and the air cleared around the bottle they noted that it was completely white and covered in ice.

Hermione clapped her hands. "Brilliant, now me!"

She took Harry's place and withdrew her wand while looking up at the gas jet on the opposite wall she started to utter the incantation, but as she did, the kitchen door open with Mrs. Weasley and Ron entering. "Fyr!"

The bottle and the table were awash with searing flames jetting from her wand.

"Blimey!" yelled Ron and his mother fanned the air in front of her, "Goodness."

The fire ceased and Hermione stared at the charred table in front of her and the remains of the bottle, shattered atop. "Oops," she muttered apologetically.

Mrs. Weasley was about to lose her temper. "What is it that you are doing, flouting the Restriction of Underage Sorcery? Do you want to be up on trial too. And you could have burned the house down."

Harry shrugged. "We were practicing , and the house is unplottable."

Hermione nodded. "And the Ministry only has Detect Magic Charms in areas that underage wizards live. They don't pinpoint actual wizards."

Mrs. Weasley face went serious. "And now that Arthur is Minister I don't want you two taking advantage of the law. There will be no unsupervised magic in this house."

Harry was about to tell her it was his house and she could move on if she didn't like it, but held his mouth all the same. Instead he tried to appeal to another side of her.

"Dumbledore wants me to be top student this year and the only way I have a chance at that is to practice with Hermione so we can be ahead when we start term. Can you think of a better way?"

She looked confused and thought on it for a moment. "If you can convince Mr. Weasley to allow you to practice then I'll allow it."

Harry nodded.

"Oh, and Harry, by the way, Professor Snape will be by tonight to continue with your lessons."

Harry's chest lurched. If there was one thing in all the world that he wished to do any less it was the continuation of his Occlumency lessons. Actually any time spent in the presence of the Potions Master was one for that particular list. Hermione sensed his trepidation and offered a suggestion.

"The only way you are going to get out of this is by learning it as quickly as possible. Then he won't have anything to teach. I'll help you."

Harry smiled wearily. "Since when have you become a master at Legilmistmism?"

She giggled. "It's Legilimency, and I studied up on it last year when you told us about the lessons. I can't perform the actual spells; you have to be able to master Occlumency before you can proceed to the next level., but I can help you with the theory. It should make your time of things a bit easier."

He nodded. "Anything to keep Snape out of my house."

They spent a good portion of the day in theory and practice to clear Harry's mind of outside thoughts. Most of the time he had even come close to succeeding in clearing his mind was when there was complete silence and he wasn't bothered by any outside influence. The bad part was he doubted that Snape would give him the chance to stop and concentrate.

He kept hearing his words from last year. "You are not trying, you are making no effort ..."

Harry's concentration broke for what seemed to be the thousandth time that afternoon. He looked more than frazzled and Hermione didn't appear any better for the effort.

"I wish I could just force him out instead of trying to prevent him from getting in," spat Harry.

"That is what I am trying to teach you, Potter."

Harry froze at the sound of the voice, and his chest seemed to burst at knowing who was standing behind him. He slowly took to his feet and turned around, not noticing that he had palmed his wand in the process.

Severus Snape stood in front of them now, his traditional flowing black robes hung off his body as usual and the ever present sneer masked his face. "Now if you are through playing house with Miss. Granger I have a schedule ..."

"Apologize."

Snape stopped in mid turn. "Pardon me, Potter. What was that you said?"

Harry gritted his teeth. "You are in my home. We're not in school. You will apologize for being rude to Hermione."

"Harry." He felt her hand at his arm. "It's not necessary. I ..."

He jerked his wand hand free and held it aloft. "I said apologize or you can take your greasy hair and your pensive out of my home and never return."

Snape smiled evilly. "I told Dumbledore that you wouldn't be able to get past your juvenile demeanor in order to master this art. I suppose you'll have to bow out of the Order then, won't you."

"Harry, no!" pleaded Hermione. "Don't do this over me."

"I would listen to her, Potter. I can guarantee you that I will not return even if Dumbledore orders it."

He felt Hermione's hand tugging on his arm and her warm breath at his ear. "Beat him at his own game, Harry," she barely whispered so that Snape had no chance of hearing. "Take his thoughts away from him."

He slowly relaxed and dropped his arm. "Fine."

Hermione motioned to Snape. "We'll meet you in the kitchen in a moment."

"Sir," Snape snapped.

Hermione gave him a scathing look. "Harry's right about one thing. We aren't in school and you are in his house now. So be nicer ... or at least less unpleasant or I'll go to Dumbledore and tell him how you've been physically abusing and threatening Harry at his lessons."

Snape's eyes narrowed.

"I'll be watching this time, Professor. And if I see you are stepping out of bounds in your teaching methods I will take appropriate action," she threatened.

Snape started to roll his eyes and stopped at the ceiling. "Please Miss. Granger, save your terrifying threats for the likes of Mr. Malfoy, would you. I am somewhat more difficult to intimidate."

Snape disappeared and Hermione tried to calm her boyfriend's nerves. "Harry ... look at me."

He did, though rage seemed to be floating just under his face.

"You have to clear your mind or he going to rip through it like a hot knife through butter."

Harry took a deep breath and tried, but the only thing that he did picture in his mind was Snape's sneer.

Hermione cradled his face in her hands and pulled him down, brushing her lips against his while softly whispering, "Let him go, Harry. He can't get to you because he has no more power over you than a flobberworm."

He smiled at her words and kissed her back. "Thanks."

She dropped down from the balls of her feet. "That's my job. I'm your girlfriend."

His smile broadened. "That sounds weird." He saw the look on her face and corrected his statement. "But in a good way."

Hermione grabbed his hand.

The night wore on. Time and time again Harry was brought to his knees trying to throw Snape out and having him intrude upon his most secret of thoughts and experiences. Hermione sat, for the most part at the kitchen table, only getting up at the worst of times when he seemed to have hurt himself in a fall or banging his leg on a chair as he fell back.

Harry rubbed the lightening-shaped scar on his forehead for it had started to hurt once more.

"Once again, Potter." Snape said dryly. "One would think you hadn't any training in the art at all. Prepare yourself ..."

"Stop!" Hermione called.

Snape pulled his wand up. "What is it this time, Miss. Granger?"

She looked daggers at him. "Can't you see he's hurting. Give him a moment." She crossed the floor and held a glass of pumpkin juice up to Harry's lips. "Harry, I have an idea. "

He looked at her with bleary eyes.

"I want you to think about flying."

Snape over heard her. "The object of this lesson is for him to think of nothing at all. Now if you please ..."

Her head whipped around and she almost yelled. "In case you haven't noticed, your teaching method leaves something to be desired. You don't just pound the lesson into him .You have to try other avenues if the first doesn't work."

Snape closed in. "Trust me in this, you silly little girl. If the Dark Lord were to find him tonight his mind would be an open book, and once he has told all he would die."

She turned back to Harry. "Try this Harry. I want you to remember what it is like to fly, alone in the sky with nothing but the wind in your face and your eyes closed. Can you do that?"

Harry nodded numbly. "Sure."

She helped him to his feet and he closed his eyes.

"Nothing around but clear and empty skies, Harry."

Snape didn't wait for Hermione to clear the area. "Prepare yourself ... Legilimens!"

A split-second before the spell hit, he smelled the clear air above the Quidditch pitch and the rush of wind through his robes then a feint itch on his forehead from what he realized was Snape's attempt to enter his mind. Instead of getting angry he lifted his wand.

"Stupefy!"

A jet of red light issued forth from Harry's wand and hit a surprised potions master in the chest, throwing him across the kitchen and into the opposite wall.

Hermione gave Harry a hand to the table. "Think we ought to wake him up?"

"No, I could use the brake."

He took the glass of pumpkin juice and finished it's contents. A few moments later Ron poked his head into the kitchen. "Where's Snape?"

Hermione smiled and pointed behind the door.

"Cool! What happened to him."

"Stunned," Hermione answered.

Ron came in closed the door and kicked Snape in the ribs.

Hermione yelled, "Ron!"

He just brushed it off. "Oh, I didn't kick him that hard."

Harry just smiled and chided himself that he didn't think of it first.

After a few more minutes he woke up and coughed, clutching his side. His greasy hair was hanging in his eyes and he brushed it aside as he took his feet with a grimace.

Harry offered an explanation for the hurt ribs. "I think you hit the doorknob before you passed out."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "I think were done for the day, Potter."

Harry smiled. "Can't wait for the next lesson."

It has been said many times by many different people that 'time flies', and in the case of the last few weeks at Grimmauld Place this time was no exception.

Harry and Hermione were eventually unable to continue their practical practice of magic outside the confines of school. Mr. Weasley was firm and unwavering in the law as it stood with only "there is a reason the law was created" as an excuse. Ron actually spent more time studying with them than was usual. Hermione voiced her pleasure at Ron's newfound appreciation, or at the very least, acceptance, of the necessity of studying.

Members of the Order of the Phoenix stopped by from time to time to drop messages off for Dumbledore, but there were no formal meetings as such and nothing Harry could attend to find out what was going on behind the scenes.

Mr. Weasley in his new role as Minister of Magic had arranged refresher courses for those wizards that wanted to attend in relation to knowing useful protection and defensive spells. Under his leadership and with the use of key sources he was able to route out two Death Eater spies within the Ministry within the first few days which won him all sorts of acclaim from the Daily Prophet.

For once, they seemed like they were going to make the train to Hogwarts early and without incident. Mr. Weasley had sent Ministry cars around and Mad-Eye Moody, Tonks, and Kingsley Shaklebolt were to be their escorts. Harry said goodbye to the house that was to be his permanent home in the foreseeable future and was ushered out of the front door as their bodyguards scanned the area for foes and overly nosey Muggles.

He slid in the back seat beside Hermione and Ron while Ginny and Mrs. Weasley took the lead car. Ron was polishing his prefect badge for the thousandth time that morning and kept adjusting it on his robes so that it looked just right. Harry never had the heart to tell him the only reason he was prefect was because Harry had too much on his plate at the moment.

The ride was swift and uneventful. To the suspicious eye of Mad-Eye Moody, it was the perfect time for an ambush. "Hurry along there Potter, Shaklebolt has the luggage."

Crookshanks looked happy to be out of the car and in Hermione's arms and Hedwig had her head tucked under wing, fast asleep. Ron held Pig's cage by his side and he was flittering about hooting and trying to escape his temporary prison. The platform was not very busy that morning and they slipped through two at a time to the wondrous sound of the Hogwarts express tooting it's horn.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief once they had arrived safely.

"Now I want you three to behave yourselves this year. You have a lot to keep you busy with your studying and all." said Mrs. Weasley as she fussed with Ron's collar.

"There she is, Ron." said Ginny as she poked him in the ribs.

Mrs. Weasley looked up. "There's who, dear?"

"Luna Loooovegood," she sang.

Everyone was suddenly interested in Ron's love life, and watched as Luna skipped forward to meet them.

"Hello, Ronald." she said as she smiled happily.

"Um ... hi." He looked at her and smiled with a feint red tint to his cheeks.

Mrs. Weasley tried to break the tension her son was feeling and held her hand out . "Hello, Luna. I'm Ron's mother."

Ron spooked out of his stupor and properly introduced his mother to Luna and vice versa.

"So you are the Ravenclaw girl that has captured my Ronald's heart." added Mrs. Weasley to Ron's horror.

"Mum!"

Luna beamed proudly and unblinkingly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Weasley. Hi Ginny, Harry, Hermione."

They waved back and Harry tried to save Ron. "We better get on the train then. Get some good seats this time."

Ron nodded even redder than he was before his mother's public revelation. "Good idea, Harry. Bye, Mum."

She waved to them as Moody called out. "Keep your eyes open this year."

Harry nodded and could have sworn he heard Mad-Eye Moody's motto in the background as the door slid closed. "Constant Vigilance!"

There were only a few other people aboard the Express and Hermione was in the lead so she chose a cabin closest to the front so they could be next to the Head Boy and Head Girl's cabin for their prefect meeting.

They unpacked their robes, donned them and Harry watched for the One-thousandth and first time as Ron readjusted his prefect badge. He just shook his head and unpacked his wand polish that Mad-Eye had sent him for his birthday.

Hermione grinned and pulled her own wand out. "May I?" Harry passed it over and dipped, finger lightly into the cream and spread it thinly onto the wand. Harry watched he after she handed back the cream and continued to stroke the wand up and down.

"Harry?"

He broke out of his ogling and scrambled an answer from nowhere. "Huh?"

Hermione smiled impishly. "I asked if I could borrow your polishing cloth."

He nodded dumbly. "Erm ..." He looked in his lap and handed her the soft polishing cloth then tried to busy himself with his own wand, but he kept dropping it.

Ginny was sitting on the other side of the cabin softly giggling. "Hermione, I think you might want to polish Harry's wand as well."

Harry looked up after picking up his wand for the third time. "Huh? What?"

Hermione held her hand out. "Your wand ..." she said innocently. "Would you like me to polish it for you?"

Harry's face burned with embarrassment. "I can polish my own wand fine ... thank you."

Ginny burst out laughing and Harry didn't have a clue as to what was so funny. It wasn't long lasting, however because of the untimely arrival of Draco Malfoy.

There was something different about him this year; his hair wasn't slicked back as was his usual style.

"Got your message, Potter." he almost snarled.

Harry gripped his wand tightly in his hand. Then he remembered what Hermione had told him about stuffing a note into Kreacher's mouth before shipping his dead body off to Malfoy Manor. He still didn't have a clue as to what he wrote, but he had to say something or loose his nerve in front of Malfoy and his cronies.

"I guess you better take it to heart then."

Malfoy didn't seem to think Harry would back up his words and paled slightly. "Remember what I said last year, Potter."

Harry remembered alright. Death threats have a way of staying with you. His eye, for some reason, slid down to Malfoy's robes and Harry smiled. "I see that you aren't prefect this year, Malfoy."

Ron looked and his eyes almost bugged out then he started to point and laugh. "It's going to be a great year at Hogwarts!"

"Shut up, Weasel." Malfoy spat.

Ron kept laughing. "Better watch that cheek, Malfoy. I can't wait to put you up for detention."

Malfoy backed up and slammed the door so hard that the glass shattered and broke over Luna's lap. Ron was up and through the door before he had gotten one step. "That's detention for you Malfoy with Filch." He turned around quickly and brushed it off Luna's lap, bending down on one knee, concerned. "Are you hurt, Luna?"

She shook her head. "No." she replied.

Hermione repaired the window as Neville Longbottom passed by with a hopeful look on his face. She opened the door for him. "Come on in Neville."

He smiled gratefully. "Thanks."

Harry looked at him and saw that he wasn't carrying any suspicious plants. "Hey, Neville."

Hermione kept her feet and tugged at Ron's robes. "We better meet up with the Head's. See you in a bit, Harry."

He nodded and tried to get the image of Hermione polishing her wand out of his head.

Night had truly fallen by the time they arrived at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry for their sixth year. Ron was too delighted to report Malfoy's actions on the train to Argus Filch which in turn was happy that he had someone to polish all of the trophy room the next night.

Harry was stunned at how small the first-years were when they came in for their sorting, only showing how much he had grown over the summer. Of course he had noticed that Hermione had stayed pretty much the same height and he was now almost a full head taller and able to look most adults in the eye, but it still showed how different he was from the boy that entered, starry-eyed into the Great Hall, six years ago this night, for his own sorting.

Ron, for the most part, seemed twitchy and constantly looked over his shoulder at the Ravenclaw table occasionally waving, but mostly smiling. at Luna so much so that he missed the Sorting Hat's song.

Hermione chided him. "Ron, you're a prefect. Pay attention."

He screwed up his face and looked a the first of the new students being sorted. "Hope we get a decent batch this year."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

After the last student was sorted into Hufflepuff and the applause died down Dumbledore took to his feet.

"To all our first Year students, I would like to welcome you to Hogwarts, may your time here be more pleasant than your fears of your first night. And to all of our returning students, welcome back for what may be the most exciting year Hogwarts has offered for quite some time.

"I would like you to welcome back Professor Gubbly-Plank who will be taking over Care of Magical Creatures for this year while Professor Hagrid is away on sabbatical."

The trio exchanged looks that said they were worried about Hagrid's whereabouts and general health.

The staff entrance to the side of the dais opened and a tall dark figure wearing a black top hat strode through and shook Dumbledore's hand before Harry recognized him.

"And I would like to welcome this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, an Auror on loan from the Ministry of Magic, Kingsley Shaklebolt."

Harry smiled and Ginny got really excited. "A real Auror again? Cool."

"Before you leave tonight I would like you to stop by the table stationed by the doors and strongly consider joining a new school sponsored group. Considering the events of late it would be a very good idea to make sure your defensive skills are at heir best. So we will be continuing a small club that was formed last year, merely as a study group that was taught by our very own Gryffindor, Harry Potter."

Dumbledore waited for the screams and applause, mostly by the Gryffindor table, to die down.

"He has graciously accepted the role as assistant to Professor Shaklebolt and will lead the Defense Association twice a week in practical drills to refine your technique. This is, of course, voluntary but highly suggested."

Harry looked around at the number of people talking between themselves and couldn't tell if it was a good thing or bad.

"Enough talk. Tuck in!"

Ron scooped up a large amount of roast chicken and filled his plate. "So where do you think Hagrid is this time?"

Harry shrugged. "No clue."

Hermione suggested, "Maybe he's off finding a mate for his brother."

Ron almost took a bite of his chicken. "I'm eating," he stressed.

Harry was about to do the same when he noticed Ron's eyes looking behind him before he felt the hand on his shoulder. He turned and looked up at the figure of his new Defense teacher.

"Hello, Harry," said the low resounding voice of Kingsley Shaklebolt. "I thought you'd like to arrange a time to go over my syllabus for your class."

Harry swallow dryly. "I really don't think there's going to be many people signing up. So anytime is okay, I guess."

Shaklebolt chuckled. "Have you taken a look at the queue?"

Harry twisted his head around and saw the already extremely long line of students at the desk by the door.

"Blimey, Harry!" said Ron.

All Hermione had to say was "Oh!"

"And that's just the early birds, Harry," responded Shaklebolt. "We might have to schedule more classes to keep up with the workload. How about tomorrow morning before your first before breakfast, eh?"

Harry nodded dumbly. "Um ... okay."

Hermione tried to keep the amazement off her face, but failed miserably. "I knew it was gong to be popular, but I thought ... I mean with the reaction to you last year ..."

Harry nodded, "Me too."

Ron pointed over to the Slytherin table. "Look at that!"

Three of the Slytherin first-years headed over and stood in queue until Malfoy sent Crabbe over. Kingsley saw what was about to happen. "I better cut this off before someone gets hurt. See you, Harry."

They watched as the Auror approached the queue and grabbed Crabbe by the back of his robe and started dragging him back over to his seat.

Ron was almost panting in disbelief. "Oh, I'm definitely going to enjoy this year."

Shaklebolt pointed up at the large hourglass shaped containers on the wall and the trio's heads all swiveled over and watched as the few green stones that were in the bottom rose to the top effectively taking away any points Slytherin had accumulated in their short span of time at the school.

Harry nodded. "Definitely."

That night, after the now traditional study session with Hermione in the Gryffindor common room, Harry breathed easy and thought thoughts of flying on his Firebolt in the air above the Quidditch pitch while he laid in bed before falling asleep. This was a much better Occlumency technique that replaced Snape's 'think of nothing and clear your mind' drivel. And before Harry knew it he was asleep and dreaming dreams that had no relevance to the real world at all.

The next morning Harry dressed and was out the door just as Ron was waking up. With a quick explanation that he had to meet with Kingsley Shaklebolt before breakfast he closed the door and made a dash for the Great Hall. He took the stairs two at a time and almost slid into Snape along the way.

"Potter, no running in the halls!" he snapped. "Five points from Gryffindor."

However stepping up from behind Snape was Kingsley Shaklebolt. "Harry, thanks for being here on time. In fact you've beaten me. Five points to Gryffindor."

He smiled at Snape. "Severus, how good to see you."

Snape sneered at him and walked off without any greeting.

"Thanks, Professor. I was just trying to make it here on time."

Kingsley waved him off and opened the doors to the Great Hall. "Just tell me how many points he takes from you, for stupid things like this, and I'll reimburse them when ever we meet up. He was awful to my little sister when she was here and now's my chance to even things up." He chuckled. "But be truthful, Harry. If you deserved the deduction don't include it in your tally."

Harry nodded respectfully. "Yes sir."

"Good lord!"

Harry looked at the pile of parchment sitting on the table beside the door and whistled as he watched Kingsley sift through each page tallying up the total. "There's got to be close to five hundred signatures here ... and from all seven years from the looks off it. I didn't know you were that popular, Harry."

Harry gulped. "Neither did I."

"I was expecting a couple of hundred at the most. You're going to have your work cut out for you. I would say at the least we'll need four sessions a week and if attendance picks up as I'm sure it will once my first test rolls around, it will have to be five."

Harry was excited and stricken at the same time. "How am I going to get all my studying in between that?"

Kingsley set his shoulders. "Really good scheduling. We start Monday, next week, Harry. Get your playtime in while you can."

He looked down at the floor and started studying his shoes.

"Now Dumbledore said you had a group last year. How many of them are still left that are worth their salt?"

Harry did a quick tally in his head. "Um ... about ten or so, I guess. Some of them graduated last year."

Kingsley nodded. "Well, I'd pick a good couple of handfuls and see if you can talk them into assisting you. Tell them I'll give them ten points apiece for every session they help out with. That should help."

"Assisting?"

He nodded . "Yeah, you know, helping with the first and second-years so you can concentrate on the students that can do the most damage."

Harry shrugged. "Oh, okay."

His task seemed to lighten a bit. He was sure he could talk Hermione and Ron into it and possibly Neville and Luna, but most of the remainder of last year's crowd seemed to be from the popular students of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. He didn't know exactly how he was going to recruit them.

Kingsley was still shaking his head in disbelief at the parchment. "I have no idea where were going to find a room big enough to train 100-150 students properly." Then to himself. "I suppose I could have Dumbledore whip something up. Do an Expansion Charm or something on one of the classrooms."

"Room of Requirement."

Kingsley looked down at Harry. "Pardon?"

"The Room of Requirement, it's on the seventh floor opposite that tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy getting clubbed by those trolls."

Kingsley thought back. "I think I remember the portrait, but I don't remember a room. I'll go and see later."

Harry smiled. "Well you wouldn't have seen it unless you were looking for something at the time. The room changes for the wants of the user." He saw the look on the Auror's face and explained. "Just walk past the portrait two or three times and think of what kind of room you need to teach properly and a door will appear."

"And it's big enough?"

Harry nodded. "It has changed from a small broom closet, to a loo, to the D.A. training room that I know of."

Kingsley smiled. "Brilliant! Um ... right then. Get your assistants together and have them meet a half hour before class on Monday, say about six-thirty. Class will be one hour so we won't interfere with everyone's study time too much. Oh, and here's the syllabus for this term. Try to incorporate as much as you can into your classes. I'm stressing defensive and disarming spells "

Harry nodded and then noticed people started straggling in for breakfast.

Kingsley handed the sign up list to him as well. "I suppose I'll leave this with you so you can divide the students up into classes. Remember to leave room for late registrants. It'll be Monday through Thursday classes for now and we'll add Friday if need be, alright?"

Harry nodded and started to look at the list of names. He didn't notice when Shaklebolt left and Ron and Hermione slipped in. In fact he didn't notice when a good number of people slipped in as he poured over the list.

"Harry," Hermione broke through his revelry.

"Hmm?"

"Is that the list of new D.A. members?" she asked.

He nodded in astonishment. "Kingsley says that there's about five hundred here."

She took his arm and led him to Gryffindor table. "You need to eat some breakfast, okay?"

He nodded dumbly. Ron had already started in on a kipper and some eggs when he asked, "Whaffs zat?"

Hermione took the sheets of parchment from his hands and set it on the seat beside her. "Something that can wait until after breakfast. Harry needs his strength."

Ron laughed through his now empty mouth. "You really are starting to sound like my mum. Don't let this girlfriend thing go to your head."

As he said that, three more students that Harry recognized as being in Hufflepuff came up from behind them. A blonde curly-haired girl seemed to be their leader.

"Is it too late?"

"Is what too late?" asked Ron curiously.

She looked over at him and back to Harry. "Is it too late to sign up. We talked to Susan Bones and she said she was in your group last year."

The cute straight-haired brunette next to her nodded. "She said you were bang on as a teacher; learned loads of stuff."

Hermione smiled and almost giggled as she searched through the parchment and found one sheet that wasn't completely filled then she pulled another out of her school bag and handed it to the three girls. "Here, put your names and year level on this one and set them on the table over there by the door."

They giggled and smiled brightly. "Brill', thanks!" the brunette said as they made their way over.

Harry groaned, "I'm gonna lose Friday too."

"What's that?" asked Ron.

"Because there's so many people, Kingsley said we'll have to do four classes a week. If anymore people sign up, I'll lose Friday as well."

Ron almost choked, "But what about Quidditch practice?"

Harry frowned. "I'm banned for life, remember?"

Ron's eyes swiveled to Hermione and back to him. "Harry, Umbridge isn't High and Mighty Inquisitor anymore. Dumbledore would've tossed out all the things she had her fingers in."

It hadn't occurred to him that Ron might be right, and luckily McGonagall was handing out term schedules at that moment; he could ask her. His foot was tapping with nervous energy until she finally handed them their schedules.

She saw how Harry was watching her as she was moving down the line. "Something on your mind, Potter?"

"Yes, Professor. I was wondering ... about Quidditch."

She nodded grimly. "Yes, well tryouts are a week from Friday and I expect a winning team this year, Weasley."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed as well as Ron's. "Pardon?"

"I've made Weasley here, Team Captain ... for now."

Harry's mouth slipped open dully, and Ron dropped his orange juice glass.

McGonagall continued, "Angelina Johnson graduated last year and that leaves you two as senior members. Both your brothers, and Johnson had confidence in your ability to strategize, Weasley so don't let me down."

Harry was almost speechless. "I'm back on the team?"

McGonagall looked at him as if he were stupid. "You didn't actually think that ... woman," she couldn't bring herself to even say Umbridge's name, "could keep you from playing Quidditch this year?"

Ron struck up his hand in the air with a triumphant, "YES!"

Harry was dumbstruck and elated at the same time. "I can play Quidditch?"

McGonagall patted him on the shoulder. "Yes, Potter. Now you better get some breakfast."

Ron dug into his school bag and pulled out a large beat up folder.

"What's that?" asked Hermione.

"It's my play book. I've been writing down the best plays from every Quidditch Word cup for the last eight years and doing my own little twist to them. I've been waiting for this moment all of my life." He looked far away, dreamily. "Quidditch Captain."

"What's your schedule like, Harry?" asked Hermione as she nudged him in the ribs to take his mind off zooming around on a broom at breakneck speed.

"Hmm? Oh ... schedule."

Hermione read it over and grimaced slightly. "With the D.A. and your Quidditch practice, this will cut into your study time. It's a good thing you are as far ahead as your are Harry or you'd have to drop something.

He nodded. "Well if Hagrid isn't teaching Care of Magical Creatures this year I'd consider dropping that."

She looked up at him. "Well the course isn't really that useful in most occupations. It might be something to think about."

Harry agreed and looked to Ron for his opinion. He was already hard at work on something in his playbook, so he looked instead at a group of five Ravenclaw's over at the table to the side of the doors, signing their names to the new parchment.

He sighed, "Friday's definitely gone."

6. The Annualis Glass

Chapter Six

The Annualis-Glass

The first thing Harry noticed about Transfiguration class was the size or more importantly the lack thereof. Apparently either a lot of people didn't pass their Transfiguration O.W.L. or a lot of people didn't need the N.E.W.T. for their chosen field of work after school. Where normally students of two school houses were combined to form a single class of approximately twenty-five to thirty, it seemed as if all four houses were represented in a class of about twenty.

The three of them found an empty table in the back and made themselves at home while Professor McGonagall shuffled papers from side to side on her desk. The bell rang in the distance indicating the start of class.

"Some of you may have noticed a decided lack of students in this N.E.W.T. level course of Advanced Transfiguration," began McGonagall. "That is because not everyone has the determination and aptitude to advance this far. Most of you may count yourselves amongst the brightest Hogwarts has to offer of the sixth-years."

Harry spotted Draco Malfoy near the front of the class straightening his robes and trying to look haughty.

"While others have arrived in the class on pure blind luck."

Malfoy stopped and Harry snickered into his sleeve so he wouldn't be heard.

"The coursework over the next two years will expose you to the final phase of transfiguration, Conjuration. In the simplest terms, conjuration is the act of summoning. In practical terms you will eventually be able to do this."

She held he wand up and waved it in a wide circle at the floor and in an instant a squashy armchair appeared. "Or this." She waved her wand again, in the air this time. A multi-colored tropical bird flapped its wings and shot around the room once before she vanished it.

"Before we move on I would suggest you consider what demands will be laid upon you in the last two years of your education." She picked up a stack of papers from her desk. "Miss. Patil, pass these around to everyone."

Padma Patil stood and took the proffered papers and passed them out. Harry noticed strangely that her sister Parvati was not in the class.

"This is the coursework Syllabus for the next two years in Transfiguration."

Harry looked at what had to be fifteen or twenty pages of reading assignments, projects, and castings that made up the remainder of their time in this particular class. In a word he was stunned.

"The only thing that differs in this syllabus from the traditional are the projects you will be involved in and have to turn in and pass before you advance to the next school year or in order to be qualified to even attempt your N.E.W.T.'s."

He heard a very audible gulp from his left as Ron looked on at the amount of homework he would have. He thought the only person in the classroom that remotely looked happy was Hermione.

"Please consider whether or not you are prepared to continue. If not I would strongly suggest you drop this course and think of another option. Of course, those of you opting for Evocation this year will not have that option as this course is required in conjunction."

Harry recognized Terry Boot raising his hand.

"Yes, Boot"

"Please, Professor. What is Evocation. I must have missed ..."

McGonagall raised her wand and pointed it at the armchair. He watched as she squinted her eyes for a moment and a blast of flame shot out and engulfed the chair. "That, Mr. Boot, is Evocation." The flames disappeared and all that remained of the chair was a black pile of cinders smoking on the floor which was vanished a second later.

"Only the most clever of each house is even allowed to take the course and then very few pass." She looked around, "How many here have been accepted into Evocation?"

Harry and Hermione raised their hands along with Malfoy and Padma.

McGonagall shook her head. "Only four this year? That's too bad. If past experience is any indication only two of you will pass."

Harry's eyes centered on Malfoy and were immediately returned. Which would it be, him or me? wondered Harry.

"Now for the first lesson you should have already read chapter one of Advanced Transfiguration and know the incantation for conjuring a matchstick. Begin."

By the end of class only three people had successfully conjured a matchstick: Harry, Hermione, and Padma. Ron had come close but it had gone up in flames. They were allowed to continue to the next chapter and the rest of the class had twelve inches of parchment to write on why they hadn't been able to successfully complete the assignment. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and promised to himself he would be at least one step ahead in this class. He couldn't afford not to be.

The shocker came after class when Harry was about to get up and leave Hermione pulled him back down. "Where are you going?"

He looked at his schedule and saw Evocation was being taught in the same classroom. Once the rest of the students left and only the four that raised their hands earlier remained, Harry and Hermione picked up their books and moved up front.

"Hold a moment." McGonagall waved her wand and vanished all of the desks and replaced them with a large slab of granite on four legs with four stools on one side spaced widely. "I find the Evocation spells a lot less harder on the furniture if it's a bit more resilient."

Harry remembered the charred kitchen table back at Grimmauld Place and agreed.

"Since we've gone over the swim or sink policy of the class already, we'll skip that portion."

She survey them critically for a moment before beginning her opening speech. "I take a certain amount of pleasure in tell you four that you are the brightest of your year. We will not go into specifics about ranking as at this point it does not matter. The most clever of you still may not be able to excel at this class while those that rank lower may arrive at the skill level of Master Invoker.

"Almost anyone can produce the effect that I displayed in the previous class. the trick to Evocation is in control; to be able to affect your target with pinpoint accuracy."

Her eyes trailed to Malfoy when she produced her wand once more and waved it in his direction. A very large plumed quill appeared in front of him. "Malfoy, be so good as to pick up the quill by the point and hold it in the air."

"Fresen!" A cool white breeze shot out the end of her wand and trailed from the tip of the quill to the feathered end, precisely. When she ended the spell the quill looked like it had been dipped in water and frozen forever in place.

"We will work on the Freezing Charm first. Wands out..."

The end of Charms class also signaled the end of his school day and the beginning of his study time, but Hermione in her infinite sense of compassion allowed Harry and Ron to go out and play after finishing their Charms homework and Harry, his Defense homework.

By that time it was four-thirty and plenty of daylight was out for a rousing few turns around the Quidditch pitch. Harry had almost forgotten what he lived for and at this time it was soaring through the air on his Firebolt while his girlfriend sat in the stands below doing her Ancient Runes homework.

He zoomed by a few times just to see the look in her eye and the sweet smile on her face ... well that and he wanted to hear her squeak. The school year could not have started off any better, knowing he was at the top of his class, knowing that he now stood a chance at beating back Snape and his stupid Occlumency lessons, knowing that for once, people seem to like him and not think he's a freak, and the best of all knowing that there is someone that thinks he's good enough to be boyfriend material.

The only thing missing was his parents or at the very least, Sirius.

He had spent so much time thinking of what kind of people his parents had been. So many people had told him how courageous they were, how much they loved him, and how so much like his father he was, but the nagging scene in Snape's memories of his father acting the complete ass that Snape always said he was, spoiled the idealistic picture in his mind. If only he had the chance to know them before they died ...

He did have a chance to know Sirius, however, and that was almost as good. From what many have said, they could have been brothers, much like he and Ron ... and that would make Hermione much like his own mum.

That thought made a lightening quick path through his head. Was Hermione like his mum? Were they supposed to grow up and graduate school and get married ... maybe have a baby ... maybe watch him or her grow to a year's age and have Voldemort destroy their home and have their child grow up without parents like he did? Is that what was in store for him?

He told himself that everything was going to change this time around and he would change things for the better. It was his life that Voldemort was messing with. He had made Harry's entire existence a hellish nightmare and it was Harry's turn to show Voldemort that he was through being a pawn in his and Dumbledore's game of Wizard Chess.

Harry's eyes snapped open and he brought his Firebolt in a wide arc and dove for the ground. He pulled up in plenty of time in front of Hermione and she smiled again.

"Feel better?" she asked.

Harry set a determined look on his face. "I feel stronger."

She gave him an odd look.

"I have to go see Dumbledore."

She cocked her head. "Do you want me to come with you?"

He shook his head. "It's Order business. I'll fill you in as soon as I know what's going on."

She nodded, gathered her books and stood up. Harry saw her in a different light, now that he thought through things. He could definitely see them together for a long time. It was both thrilling and very scary all at the same time. She was his best friend in all the world and now his best friend was becoming something more. It was as if a light bulb had finally blown in his head and let him see past the glow that had been blocking his view for so long.

He saw his future and it scared him. He saw his future and he knew he had to make the right decisions or it would all melt away like so much used candle wax.

"Harry," Hermione asked. "is everything okay?"

In response he placed his hand behind her head and pulled her close to him and his hungry lips. "It will be ... I promise." He set upon her for a few moments just to let her feel what he was experiencing ... an epiphany of sorts.

She pulled back afterward and her eyes were glazed and her lips called for more. "W--what was that for?"

Harry smiled. "I just realized something and I wanted to share it with you."

She smiled goofily. "Okay."

"I think I love you, Hermione Granger."

He saw her tremble slightly and watched as she caught her breath. "Harry ..."

He stepped back and smiled as he mounted his broom. "I just--wanted to tell you that."

Ron landed a second later and scoffed. "You two have plenty of time to snog in the common room. It's time to fly."

It seemed as if Hermione didn't hear a thing Ron said as her eyes stayed locked on Harry's, and he looked at Ron. "You're right, mate, but I have to take care of some business first."

He pushed off and twirled in circles until he reached the top of the stands. He paused for a moment to look back down and Hermione had dropped her books and was hugging Ron, then he shot off to the castle.

He tried to remember the exact angle of the Quidditch field he had seen from Dumbledore's office last term. Once he had found it he set off to find the proper window. That's when he noticed Dumbledore waiting for him. His office window was too thin to enter so he rode up along side.

"Preparing for the new Quidditch season, Harry?" said Dumbledore.

"Yes, sir."

Dumbledore looked at him with a critical eye. "You have questions for me?"

"Yes, sir."

The headmaster nodded. "Very well. Come in through office entrance. The password is Twizzle Snaps."

Harry nodded and set off for the front entrance. His dismounted his broom and carried it with him as his took the steps of the marble staircase two at a time up to the second level and down the hall to the empty corridor with the stone statue of a Gargoyle, squatted and thinking.

"Twizzle Snaps."

The gargoyle animated and leapt aside to reveal a secret door that Harry had long since learned about from him many times in the Headmaster's office. He stepped on the spiral staircase as it revolved upward to his destination. Once he stepped off he noticed the door to Dumbledore's office was ajar, but he knocked anyway.

"Come in, Harry."

He entered the circular office and the first thing he noticed was the small table to the right that held Dumbledore's mysterious silver devices had either been replace, or considering the office in question probably had been magically repaired.

Harry set his broom to the side and sat on the armchair he usually choose in front of the headmaster's desk.

"Shall I assume you are here regarding Order business?"

"Yes, sir." Harry paused. "I think it's about time I heard about the Death Eater's March."

Dumbledore smiled as if Harry had solved some difficult puzzle. "Anything I could tell you is available in history books located in the school library, and judging from the look on your face you have already researched that particular avenue."

Harry kept his back straight. "Hermione has, I haven't."

"Of course." Dumbledore considered for a moment. "Tell me of your conclusions."

Harry remembered what Hermione had said back at Grimmauld Place. "We figure he's using the attacks on Muggle villages as a ruse to find somebody or something. A weapon or someone that know how to build a weapon."

Dumbledore nodded. "That is exactly what Voldemort is attempting to do, Harry. However, the only person that is capable of ever recreating the particular weapon in question is long dead."

Harry sat forward on the edge of his seat. "So it's a weapon he's after."

Dumbledore nodded. "I should rephrase. The device can be used as a weapon, or simply as a research tool. Do not ask me what the device is Harry for I cannot tell you."

"But, you said ..."

"I said that I would let you participate in Order meetings and in essence know what every other member of the Order knows. Only one other knows of the device's existence and location and that is in case something were to happen to me."

Dumbledore saw the look on Harry's face and frowned slightly which increased the number of deep wrinkles on his own face. "The temptation to use the device against Voldemort would be overwhelming, Harry. Even for someone as strong-willed as you. I cannot say anymore on the subject."

Harry tried to think of a way around the topic so that he could find out more about what it was that was being hidden. "If it's so safe then why is Voldemort pillaging Muggle villages to find it?"

"Because he does not know it's whereabouts. He is only led by folklore and legend. He does not think that anyone else is clever enough to have found it already for the creator of the device was himself one of the most cleverest wizards ever known."

Harry pondered the answer for a moment. "Who ..."

"I think it would be wise to return to your studies, Harry. Forget about the device. It is out of Voldemort's hands and the Order is using that knowledge against him to anticipate where he might turn next. There is nothing for you to do at this moment in time."

Harry nodded and retrieved his broom before heading back downstairs to the Gryffindor common room. Ron and Hermione had commandeered a large circular table by one of the windows near the back of the room and he saw his books and homework laid out for him.

Ron had looked up and waved short. Hermione was sitting forward on the table with her chin sitting on the heel of her hand, staring out the window, dreamily.

Harry made sure nobody was around the table within earshot before he sat down. Hermione snapped her head around and smiled brightly at him.

"It's a weapon."

Ron's eyebrows furrowed. "What's a weapon?"

It clicked faster for Hermione. "The Death Eater's March?"

Harry nodded. "Dumbledore said it was a device that could be used as a weapon or research, whatever that meant."

Hermione leaned forward. "What else?"

"He said that one other person knows where it is just in case something happened to him." He paused for a second to recall the rest of the conversation. "He said that one of the cleverest wizard's ever made it and Voldemort is running around trying to find it because of some legend."

Hermione looked down at her watch and back up again. "The library's closed already. We'll have to research it tomorrow."

Ron sighed with relief.

Hermione glared at him. "With those clues it couldn't be hard to find at all, Ron. I wouldn't say more than two or three days of looking."

Ron thumbed at her. "Two or three days she says. That's not long at all."

"Well it's not long compared with how long it took us to find Nicholas Flamel now is it?" she huffed.

Ron shrugged.

The next morning after breakfast, Harry skived off Care of Magical Creatures and went to Professor McGonagall's office to drop the course.

"Any particular reason you are dropping, Potter? Seems like it would be an easy N.E.W.T. for you considering your O.W.L. score in that area." asked McGonagall.

"It's everything else this year, Professor. I didn't know if I would be able to take Potions and I wanted to have something else in it's place so I took Evocation and I don't want to drop that class." He paused to take a breath. He had made out a complete speech for her that morning. "Care of Magical Creatures isn't required for Auror training and basically really isn't any fun if Hagrid's not teaching."

McGonagall smiled to herself. "I'm sure Hagrid would be very happy to hear you say that, Potter." She looked down at his schedule and crossed through the course and initialed one side. "Take this to Professor Grubbly-Plank for her approval and you will be dropped. Use the extra time wisely please. Don't make me regret my decision."

He nodded and smiled. "Yes, ma'am. thank you," and he hurried off to the library to do some research.

Hermione was in Arithmancy at this hour and Ron was busy with Care of Magical Creatures so it was just him in the library sifting through book after book written by the most cleverest wizards he could find. While there were some very impressive charms and inventions, Harry could not find anything that he thought Voldemort could use or even would want to use as a weapon.

His time in Evocation class was spent practicing and refining the Freezing Charm and not much else. When class was over he and Hermione walked hand in hand down to the dungeons for their first Potions class of the term.

"Were you able to find anything?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No, but I did drop Care of Magical Creatures. Ron's going to be peeved but I need more time for myself this year."

She smiled. "I think it was a good decision. Now if we can just make it thorough Potions."

The queue for potions was vaguely familiar, consisting again only of Draco Malfoy, Padma Patil, Hermione and himself. Malfoy's eyes narrowed.

"I thought you were taking Remedial Potions lessons last year, Potter. What are you doing here?"

Harry smiled slyly. "I guess they'll let just about anyone in this class, huh? I mean you even got in."

Padma ignored the verbal dueling between the boys and looked down at Hermione and Harry holding hands. "Oh, are you two dating now?"

Hermione grinned and nodded.

Harry continued on with Malfoy. "So, um ... how was the trophy room last night? Did you polish up my dad's Head Boy award real good?"

He knew Malfoy would have had to. From Ron's description of the experience, Filch was a stickler for perfectionism when it came to the gleaming trophies.

Malfoy just stewed in his anger.

Padma neared. "Cho said you two would be getting together last year after Valentine's day. Guess she was right."

That caught Harry's attention. Cho had embarrassed him in front of a number of couples on their date to Hogsmeade last Valentine's day in Madame Puddifoot's. She had basically accused him of dating Hermione as well and stormed out of the cafe with yells and screams.

He didn't know she was talking to other people about it, but she was in the popular crown so it made sense.

"What's that Potter?" laughed Malfoy. "You and the Mudblood?"

Before he knew it his fist was singing through the air and connecting with Malfoy's chin with a resounding snap as Malfoy's jaw was slammed shut and he hit the floor holding his mouth.

The door to the Potion's classroom flew open and Snape tried his best to tower over Harry. "Fighting again Potter?'

Harry was about to snap something back at him when Padma intervened. "Sir, Malfoy was goofing off and hit his face into the wall."

Snape looked down at the blonde boy clutching his jaw in pain. "Is that what happened, Draco?"

He looked like he was going to consider telling what really happened, but thought better of it, not wanting it to get around the school that he was decked by Harry. Instead he just nodded.

Snape shook his head in disappointment. "Off to the Hospital Wing with you." Then back to the three waiting. "Inside, now."

Potions went as expected. Snape found reasons to take off a total of twenty points from Gryffindor and addled Harry enough to mess his potion up resulting in only five points awarded to Hermione for completing the assignment at the end of class.

At the bell Snape held him back. "Stay, Potter for your remedial lessons."

Hermione stayed as well to Snape's annoyance and withdrew her Ancient Runes homework in the interim. Harry withdrew his wand and stood his ground with much more confidence than previous lessons. With Hermione's help he had found another way to protect his thoughts and now had little fear of Snape's intrusion into his mind.

He watched as Snape pulled out his Pensive from under his desk and withdrew a number of silvery threads, with his wand, from his head to place inside. Then an idea came to him.

"Ready, Potter?"

Harry closed his eyes and thought of his flight yesterday afternoon, soaring through the wind feeling nothing but freedom. He opened his eyes again and Snape was ready for him.

"Legilimens!"

The itching prickled along his scar and he raised his wand effortlessly. "Stupefy!"

Snape was tossed to the floor, unconscious, once again.

Hermione looked up and clapped softly. "Nice, though you might want to quit stunning him. It tends to drag these lessons out. and I'm hungry."

Harry waved her to. "Watch him. If he stirs, stun him again."

"What?"

"I think I know who the other person is that Dumbledore told about the weapon."

Comprehension dawned on her face. "The one person that could keep it from Voldemort because he's the only other Occlumens in the order. Brilliant, Harry."

She looked at the Pensive wearily. "Do you think it's in there?"

Harry nodded. I'm about to find out. "Remember to stun him quickly. Some times these memories are long."

She pulled out her wand and stood guard. Harry took his own and copied Dumbledore's movements from last year, dipping it into the silvery substance and stirred it around much like a potion. He saw his father's face and was tempted to look in on that memory, but kept going. What could only be his parents screaming at him, he kept stirring. And then finally Dumbledore's face. Harry leaned forward until his nose touched the silvery substance.

He felt a strange jerking and found himself in Dumbledore's office.

"It should be destroyed, Headmaster." Snape said

Dumbledore nodded, "I agree, Severus, but unless you have found a way to penetrate the restorative properties of the Annualis-Glass were are at somewhat of a standstill, for every attempt to destroy the artifact will be erased and it will still be standing here."

They both looked directly at Harry and he jumped as if he had been caught, but then realized that they weren't staring at him; instead they were looking at something behind him. Harry spun around and saw what it was. Sitting on the shelf was a two foot tall hourglass, glowing somewhat eerily.

The scene ended and Harry pulled himself out of the Pensive.

"Stupefy!" Hermione whispered and stunned Snape again. "Hey, this is fun!"

"I know what it is, but not where!" he exclaimed. "I've got to go back in."

But at that moment they heard footsteps echoing from down the corridor. Hermione's head swiveled around. "We don't have time. We'll have to wait until your next lesson."

She went over and knelt by Snape's body and turned back. "Try to look smug, like you just stunned him."

Hermione uttered the counter-charm and Snape's eyes snapped open. "Are you okay, Professor?"

The door to the potions room opened and Draco Malfoy stood there looking down at them.

Snape was quick on the uptake and yelled at a smug looking Harry. "Fifteen points from Gryffindor, Potter. and clean this mess up before I fall again."

Harry looked back up at Malfoy who was looking particularly happy to witness yet more points being taken away from Harry.

They hurried down the corridor and up the stairs to the entrance hall where Ron was waiting for them outside of the Great Hall.

"Where have you been. I'm starving!"

They went in found their seats and began to dig into their lunch.

"It's called a Annualis-Glass." Harry whispered so only Hermione and Ron could hear."

Hermione looked much like she did whenever Luna Lovegood was around talking about mythical creatures. "It's only a legend." But as soon as she said it she remembered what Harry had said about Voldemort chasing around something based only on folklore.

"What did it look like, Harry?"

He thought on it and held his hand over the floor. "About this tall. The stand was a dark colored wood with symbols carved into it. It was like a really big hourglass."

Hermione's hand covered her mouth in shock. "It's real!" she whispered.

She wouldn't say anymore until after they finished their lunch and found a more appropriate place so they wouldn't be overheard, which happened to be Classroom Eleven. Hermione checked to make sure that there was nobody in the imitation forest the was recreated for Firenze's Divination class.

"We only have fifteen minutes until Herbology, Hermione."

She didn't look worried. "It won't take that long. The Annualis-Glass was said to have existed back in the medieval period and was invented by Cassius the Clever."

"I guess that's why Dumbledore said he was long dead."

Hermione nodded. "Basically it's a time-turner."

"Huh?" asked Ron.

"Well the right wizards can posses a normal time turner which is about this big." She held her fingers apart about two inches. "But a normal time-turner wouldn't be much good. The most he would be able to affect time is twenty-four hours. Anything more and turner won't work properly; it shatters and reassembles itself dropping you back off in the original time source."

"You think this one is different?" asked Harry.

"Legend says Cassius was able to break the twenty-four hour barrier and basically make the Annualis-Glass. It would allow the traveler to go to any time, in the past, that he chose," she finished very seriously.

"Blimey, Voldemort wants to go back in time ... for what?"

Hermione sighed. "It's obvious, isn't it? He'll want to go back to a time where he was stronger and the wizarding community was deathly afraid of him; when the Order of the Phoenix was pitifully outnumbered ... to undo his biggest mistake."

She looked up at Harry who was going deathly pale at the moment. "He mustn't get a hold of that hour glass, Harry."

"It is already too late, Harry Potter."

The three of them spun around and saw Firenze stepping out of the conjured forest.

"Firenze!" Harry called out.

"The stars above have foretold a time of confusion very soon. The Dark Lord will possess the Annualis-Glass and with it do great harm."

Ron, having attended a few of Firenze's classes in the past knew that the centaur was nothing if his wasn't vague. "Think the stars above will spit out a few details this time? Like when is You-Know-Who going to nick the hour glass?"

Firenze trotted closer to Harry and ignored Ron entirely. "I have relayed my conclusions to Professor Dumbledore in regards to this matter. It is you and she that will determine the fate of the cosmos."

"She?" asked Harry. "She who?"

"Your woman, Harry Potter," clarified Firenze.

Harry looked back at Hermione. "My ..."

Now it was Hermione's turn to look shocked or embarrassed; Harry couldn't tell which.

"It has been told that both of you play an intricate role in the battle for dominance of the past. This is what Bane did not wish you to know six years ago in the Dark Forest."

Harry remembered when Firenze had saved him from Professor Quirrell who, possessed with Voldemort, had been drinking on the blood of a unicorn at the time. Bane was very angry that night and kept Firenze from telling what he knew to be important.

"I've ..." Harry paused and looked at Hermione. "We've got to go to Dumbledore. We have to become involved."

Ron looked frightened. "Harry, we've got Herbology in two minutes."

Harry nodded. "Go ahead. Tell Professor Sprout that I had to see Dumbledore."

He nodded and left.

Firenze's tail swished back and forth. "You must not delay, Harry Potter. With your entrance into this classroom and your interaction with me we have set off the first in a chain of events that will slowly build until all of present time will be undone by changed events in the past."

Harry set his jaw and looked back at Hermione. "Come on. We have to see Dumbledore." Then as an afterthought he turn back. "Thanks, Firenze."

The centaur bowed his head forward. "Go with speed and safety."

They were out of the classroom and halfway down the hall when they saw Dumbledore standing before them with a very solemn look on his face. When they came to a stop mere feet in front of him he closed his eyes and rubbed under his half-moon spectacles.

"You have seen Firenze?"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

Dumbledore sighed. "Then it has begun."

"Yes, sir."

Dumbledore took a deep breath. "You will return to your dormitories and empty the books out of your bags. You will fill the bags with necessities for a journey of two nights. It will possibly be longer, but you will be prepared that long at least. You will need to rid yourselves of your Hogwarts robes and don traveling clothes. I would suggest something warm but not overly so. When you are done bring yourselves and your broom to my office."

Harry and Hermione turned to the marble staircase.

"Be swift, for there is not much time," the head master added.

This encouraged then to start at a run until they were out of breath when they reached the seventh floor landing and headed down the hall toward the Gryffindor common room. All the while Hermione was looking very grim and worried.

"What's wrong?" he asked before giving the password to the Fat Lady.

They crawled through the hole behind the portrait and Harry gave her a hand down.

"Harry ... do you realize what we are meant to do?"

He shrugged. "I suppose were going to take the hourglass somewhere and hide it from Voldemort."

She held his eyes for a moment and dropped them to the floor. "I suppose."

"Why? What did you think?"

She shook her head. "Nothing ... I'm probably wrong."

"Hermione?"

She took off for the stairs to the dormitory. "We're supposed to hurry."

Harry set his jaw in frustration.

"Make sure you bring your moneybag, Harry," she called from the top of the stairs.

The first thing he did when he reached his room was dump his school bag on the bed and empty it of books and parchment. He flipped open his trunk, pulled out three sets of clothes, stuffing two of them in the bag and the third on the bed which he immediately changed into.

He looked at his trunk and couldn't think of anything else he wanted to take with him; just his cloak with his overly full bag of gold Galleons tucked away in the special pocket.

Harry tied his shoes off and threw the cloak around him, tying it off. He closed his schoolbag and threw it over his shoulder as he said a brief goodbye to the room and scurried downstairs to the common room to wait for Hermione.

It was only a couple of minutes later when he saw her scrambling down the staircase wearing a pair of jeans and a dark sweater.

"Ready?" he asked.

She nodded and they were out the door and on their way to the headmaster's office.

Harry gave the password to the gargoyle, it leapt aside and they ascended to the top. The door was wide open at this point and it seemed as if they had been joined by Snape and McGonagall as well. Each was performing a different task in front of the hidden closet that Harry remembered held Dumbledore's Pensive.

Snape had his wand running over the top of the hidden door inscribing something Harry didn't recognize. Hermione poked him in the ribs and whispered. "Ancient Runes."

McGonagall was doing the same at the bottom and Dumbledore was doing his own in the middle. After they were through Dumbledore saw them standing by the door.

"After the events of the first year we thought it best if each of us performed protection runes upon the artifact so that only the three of us together would be able to open the room."

McGonagall seemed to be a tad frustrated. "What is this about, Dumbledore?"

The door clicked open and swung outward revealing its contents. Dumbledore stepped forward and grasped it by the base. "This, Minerva, is the Annualis-Glass."

She scoffed for a moment. "Dumbledore don't be ..." then she got a good look at it and paled, "... ridiculous."

Snape turned to the headmaster. "I cannot express how much of an awful idea this is. You cannot rely upon the ranting of a centaur to dictate ..."

"Thank you, Severus, for your concern about my decision and its merits, however, we need to act quickly if we are to prevent Voldemort's success."

He sat the large hourglass on the desk and held his hand out to the chairs in front of him for Harry and Hermione to sit.

"Miss. Granger, I believe you are familiar with the restrictions on items such as these."

She nodded, "Yes, sir."

"Good, forget them. For you can be sure that Voldemort will. I have it on good faith that he will strike at the house on the very same night in question however he will not perform the Killing Curse this time and will resort to rather mundane means to correct his mistake."

Harry was confused. "Sorry, sir ... um ... what are you talking about?"

Hermione grabbed hold of his hand. "We're going back into the past, Harry. To stop Voldemort from killing you."

He shook his head and if to clear something out that was obviously blocking him from understanding what Hermione had just said. "Sorry ... we're what?"

"We're doomed," Snape spat. "My life is in the hands of a complete and utter idiot."

"Severus, if you please." Dumbledore chided. "Harry, you will be traveling to the past to do as Miss. Granger has said. You must prevent the Voldemort from this time period from gaining access to your parents house and in turn, you."

Harry was stunned. "You aren't coming with us?"

He shook his head regretfully. "All of us have doubles in the past and should not attempt the journey. Too many things could go wrong if people recognized us. Even the implication that the Annualis-Glass truly does exist is enough to cause problems far beyond what Voldemort is capable of.

"You will take this with you." He grasped one of Fawkes' tail feather's. "If you please."

A plume of smoke puffed where the feather was and now Dumbledore had it in his hand. "Give this to my counterpart when you arrive. It will be proof enough of your sincerity and identity."

He handed it to Harry.

"You may interact with the members of the Order, only."

"But ..."

Dumbledore reached up over his desk and retrieved the sword of Godric Gryffindor handing it hit first to Harry. "this might come in handy. I believe you have a place to store it in that wonderful cloak of yours.

Harry took it and slid the sword into the charmed pocket.

"Now this is very important, Harry. In order for the present to right itself ... you must allow you parents to die. Only you can survive, or all is lost."

Harry started to protest but was held back. "If your mother does not die and pass on her protection to you then Voldemort will kill you and will not have been stopped by the rebounding of his Killing Curse. He will eventually rule and thousands of others will die in their place. You cannot allow this to happen."

"But ..."

Dumbledore was deathly serious about this. "I must have your word on this, Harry or we might as well seek Voldemort out and hand over the Annualis-Glass."

Harry felt his throat constrict and his chest hurt.

Snape added his two Knuts. "Think of it this way, Potter. If you allow the Dark Lord to run free then you will be putting to death what Mrs. Black called Blood-traitors. Meaning your good friend Ron Weasley and his entire family. Ginny Weasley will not have even been born yet. Not to mention all of your half-blood friends including her." He pointed his boney finger at Hermione.

Harry looked at Hermione and she couldn't meet his eyes. Instead she dropped them to the floor and he saw teardrops fall to the large rug below. "I promise."

7. First Meetings

Chapter Seven

First meetings

Dumbledore sat behind his desk with his fingers steepled, peering at Harry from behind his half-moon spectacles. "There is no other way, Harry. I am truly sorry."

Anger was starting to rise in his chest and he didn't know how to contain it properly. "Can we get this over with?"

"Insolent, brat ..."

Snape didn't get the last part of his insult out for Harry was upon him and pushing him back against the wall with crushing force. Before he was able to land the first punch his left hand was stung by a hex. Harry swung around with hate in his eyes and his wand held high ... against Albus Dumbledore.

"We are on a rather tight schedule, Harry." He looked over at Snape clutching his side where a shelf had dug in. "Severus, remove yourself from my office until I call for you. Miss. Granger ..."

Hermione took her cue and pulled Harry in her arms to calm him before he did something he was going to regret. She had seen, once before, the cold and unfeeling look Harry was giving the headmaster and she tried to distract him from whatever dangerous thoughts that were in his mind. Her hand on his arm was the only thing that made him lower his wand.

He blinked a couple of times and looked down. "Hermione?"

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry."

He hugged her back wiping away at his own face. "It happened again, didn't it?" he whispered.

He felt her head nod against him.

Dumbledore interrupted. "You must leave within the minute. He is here."

McGonagall turned, shocked. "Who? Who is here?"

"Voldemort," Dumbledore hissed.

Hermione pulled back.

Dumbledore tapped his wand on the Annualis-Glass and whispered a few words. "I have set the date at October 29, 1981, Harry. You have two days to find Peter Pettigrew get him to reveal the location of your parent's home in Godric's Hollow and stop Voldemort. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded.

"The magic of the glass will return you here when your mission is complete. Good luck."

Harry grabbed his Firebolt and his bag. "What do we do?"

A loud crash was heard coming from downstairs.

"Just touch the glass. Hurry now."

They reached forward and each touched the glass at the same time. The rush of light during their third year, when they last used a time turner, was nothing compared to this. His head exploded into tiny dots of light and reformed over what felt like the course of a year, or possibly five seconds; he couldn't tell. For time had no meaning anymore as their consciousness' slipped mid-way through the trip.

When the sparkling in his head dissipated Harry blinked open his eyes and found himself flat on his back in the Headmaster's office with Albus Dumbledore's face hovering directly above his own.

Harry groaned. "It didn't work."

Hermione was already on her knees holding her own head. "Yes it did, Harry. Look around."

Dumbledore took a step back and surveyed the two newcomers. Harry took a better look at him. His beard was a touch shorter and his hair didn't quite make it halfway down his back.

"Professor Dumbledore?"

The headmaster's eyes squinted briefly. "Before we begin our introductions would you please tell be how you manage to Apparate within the grounds of Hogwarts?"

Hermione pulled herself up into a chair and moaned. "We didn't."

"Ah, well then that explains it."

Harry let go of his Firebolt and tried to sit up. Every muscle in his body ached and it didn't seem like they would pay much attention if told to move.

"Yes, I am Professor Dumbledore. And you are?"

"I'm Hermione Granger," she groaned. "Do you think Madame Pomfrey could bring us some Pepper-up Potion?"

Harry heard a light fluttering and wasn't surprised to see Fawkes sanding above him he sang a small chirp briefly and leaned over his mouth.

"'Lo Fawkes."

He closed his eyes and felt two drops hit the back of his throat.

"Fascinating," spoke Dumbledore.

Harry felt strength returning to his tired muscles and he was now able to sit up with minimal effort. Dumbledore stood back and watched as he tended to Hermione and made her more comfortable.

"We're not here to do any harm, Professor. I promise."

"Fawkes, Madam Pomfrey."

In a burst of flame Fawkes disappeared.

Harry reached into his cloak and withdrew the feather his Dumbledore had given him. "I was supposed to give this to you."

The headmaster took the feather and looked at it critically. "This is from my Phoenix."

Harry nodded. "I know, you gave it to me ... fifteen years from now."

Dumbledore suddenly became almost excited. "You've found it? The Annualis-Glass?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know who found it, but in fifteen years you will have it. That's why were here. Voldemort is going to use it in two days."

At that, Madame Pomfrey opened the door. "Professor, Fawkes indicated that you needed two Pepper-up Potions immediately."

Another plume of fire and Fawkes was atop his perch again.

"Yes, thank you, Poppy. The potions are for my two guests."

Harry kept quiet until Hermione had taken at least half of hers and steam started billowing out of her ears. She sat up almost immediately. "I hate the taste of that. Can't you cut it with some type of flavor additive."

Harry laughed to himself and drank his own. Once they seemed to be restored to better health the conversation continued. Harry filled Dumbledore in on his need to find the Potters before Halloween night.

Dumbledore looked very serious. "There seems to be a flaw in your plan."

Hermione leaned forward.

"For you see, Lily and James Potter are not in hiding. It appears you have arrived a bit early, I'm afraid. We are now approaching the end of September."

Harry blinked and Hermione covered her mouth in shock and turned to him. "Harry, we can't get back."

Something seemed to click in Dumbledore's head at that moment. "Harry? That is ... What is your last name, if I may ask?"

Harry looked at Hermione. "Potter. My name is Harry Potter."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "Well, that is very interesting." He paused. "And how is it ... no never mind I already know why my counterpart or any other adult has not accompanied you. Knowledge of the Annualis-Glass would be catastrophic, would it not."

Hermione nodded. "That's what you said."

Dumbledore's eyes slid to his scar. Harry lifted up his hair to give him a better look. "Voldemort gave me this on October 31, 1981, when he tried to kill me."

The headmaster's eyes turned crystal sharp. "Tried, you say?"

"The Killing Curse backfired on him and destroyed his body. He's been floating around for fourteen years in our time, until just recently," explained Harry.

Hermione took over. "Harry was kidnapped and well ... Voldemort's back, and he was on Hogwarts grounds when you ... rather the other you sent us here to stop him."

Harry tried one last thing to make Dumbledore realize that they were very real and had a very real need to set things right. "I'm in the Order."

The headmaster's eyes went wide. In the future, Harry would always mark the day that he finally shocked Dumbledore. "Pardon me?"

"The Order of the Phoenix. I was let in last month because of a Prophecy that you heard," Harry counted back, "well ... sometime two years ago from Trelawney."

Hermione got very interested. "What Prophecy ... you mean the prophecy from last year that got broke and you didn't hear? Harry, you told us you didn't hear."

"Dumbledore, told me that night, or that morning, whatever." He let his sorrow show on his face. "I didn't want you to worry."

"How did the Prophecy end Harry?" asked Dumbledore.

"This is the true test, isn't it?" Harry replied.

Hermione took his hand. "What test?"

He turned to her. "He's having a hard time believing us. Since he hasn't found the Annualis-Glass yet, it's still only legend."

She nodded. "I realize that. We still could be minions of Voldemort or something."

Harry agreed. "So he's asking me about the prophecy, because only three people heard it since that night. Professor Trelawney, who can't remember anything she sees, Professor Dumbledore here, and the snoop that was listening on their conversation at the Hogshead two years ago.

"That's how Voldemort found out about it. The eavesdropper was a Death Eater. What Voldemort didn't know was the ending of the Prophecy, because the barkeep tossed him out when he realized he was snooping."

Hermione turned to the headmaster. "So you are the only one who knows what was actually said."

Dumbledore nodded his head once. "Indeed."

Harry took a deep breath. "Voldemort was to mark me his equal that night." Harry lifted up his hair to show his scar. "It's either him or me. Neither of us can live until one of us dies."

"WHAT!" Hermione exploded.

"It's the end of the Prophecy. Well that and the date of mine and Neville's birth." He paused. "Something about July dieing or ..."

He didn't get to finish his sentence because of a hand slapping him across the face ... Hermione's to be more precise. She was out of her chair and through the office door in tears before Harry could stop her.

"Hermione." He looked back at Dumbledore. "Professor ..."

The headmaster nodded. "Go after her Harry. I have some thinking to do. About an hour's worth I anticipate."

Harry dropped his bag and took a hold of his Firebolt, dashed down the stairs out from the secret door, almost running into Professor McGonagall all in the span of about five seconds.

"Mr. Potter, running is not ... oh, you're not Potter."

He got a better look at her and she was decidedly younger than he remembered though her style of dress and hair had not changed in sixteen years. "Um ... Professor McGonagall, did you see Hermi ... a girl run out of here a moment ago?"

She studied him for a moment. "Down the hall."

Harry smiled. "I think Professor Dumbledore wants to talk to you." And with that he set off after his girlfriend.

In only a few moments he had dashed down the marble staircase and stuck his head in the Great Hall. House-Elves were scurrying around cleaning up after lunch and there was no sign of where she went.

"Where would she go?" he asked himself.

He turned in a circle almost in a panic and decided the grounds was the next place to check. He burst open the large wooden doors and looked around. Handfuls of students were milling about, under trees and everywhere in between the castle and the Quidditch pitch.

Harry mounted his broom and shot up into the air, knowing that he would stand a better chance of finding her. He never had any trouble locating her during a Quidditch match and was well used to looking for particular faces in a crowd of people. Not that he would call what was milling about the grounds a crowd, but still.

He looked around and couldn't pick her out of any of the students that were now looking up at him and pointing.

"If I were Hermione, where would I be?" he asked himself. He shrugged. "Probably the library ... but she'd be expecting that. So where would the be the last place she would go?"

He got an idea and zoomed off as fast as he could go to the Quidditch field. Within seconds he spotted a familiar figure sitting in the stand and swooped down for a closer look. To his reward he had guessed correctly.

A soft landing seconds later and he was walking up to his very distressed girlfriend.

"Hermione?"

She looked up. her eyes were puffy and red and her cheeks very wet with fresh tears. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Harry shrugged. "Well for the same reason as right now. I knew it would ..."

"I thought you said you loved me!" she interrupted.

It seemed so long ago when he had told her, but it was mere hours, not even a full day.

"I do," he muttered. "That's why ..."

She shot up and rushed to hold him tight. "I don't want you to face him, Harry. Not again. We just found each other. I don't want to lose you."

He didn't know what to say. If it was up to him then he would take her and they would go back to Hogwarts and live happily ever after, but he knew with what had happened in the last few years that it probably would never happen.

"Hey." He pulled back. "If you're with me I can do anything."

She stopped sobbing long enough to look up at him.

"And I've got my Firebolt and this nifty sword that Dumbledore gave me, plus we know what's going to happen, don't we?"

Hermione wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand and nodded.

"Voldemort has to pop up at my parents house at exactly the right time, and we know when that will be. We're a step ahead already. And with the Order of the Phoenix behind us, we can't lose."

His features changed from encouraging to almost grim. "I need you to help me, Hermione. We have to save my parents. We have to stop Voldemort, once and for all; right here, right now."

She looked at him with fear and determination.

"I can't let them die."

"What about your promise?" she asked softly.

Harry gripped his Firebolt tightly. "I'll make you a deal. We have a month. There's nothing we can do until then, right?"

She nodded.

"Then let's take the month. If we can't figure out a way to save them and destroy Voldemort, once and for all, then we do it the way it happened."

Her eyes moved to the side of his shoulder as if she saw someone behind him. Harry spun around to find about twenty students standing about fifty feet away.

Hermione wiped at her eyes. "You flew over here, didn't you?"

"Uh ... yeah."

"They've never seen a Firebolt, Harry."

He grinned weakly. "Oops."

One of them, a shaggy-hair girl, broke away from the crowd and approached them. "Hi, we couldn't help but notice ... that is ... well we've never seen a broom that could go as fast as yours."

Harry swallowed.

"Would you mind very much ... well ..."

Hermione stepped around and held her off. "He wasn't supposed to be flying it. His dad's a broom tester and Harry here nicked it from his workshop. It's purely experimental."

A good portion of the crown started to approach now that it looked like they could get a better look.

"Could we have a look then?" a older boy said hopefully.

"Absolutely not!" a voice interrupted.

Everyone looked up at the approaching Transfiguration teacher.

"Everyone back to whatever it was you were doing. Go on." McGonagall said in a huff. "And you two -- come with me. The headmaster would like a word."

Harry took Hermione's hand and muttered. "He told me he needed an hour to think. It's not been twenty minutes."

When they returned to the revolving stairs that led to the headmaster's office, McGonagall and Hermione were in front and stepping off as he heard a gasp from his girlfriend.

"Hermione, what ..."

But he never had the chance to finish his question before he saw what it was that had caught her attention and made her cover her mouth. Standing by Dumbledore's side was none other than a twenty-one year old James Potter.

Harry dropped his broom in shock. In a span of mere moments his heart was racing and his head was spinning. It took him a few seconds to remember to breathe.

"What sort of game is this, Professor," said James with a very confused look on his face. "Who is he?"

Dumbledore took his seat. "This, James, is your son."

James looked down at Dumbledore and back up at Harry, then Hermione, and threw back his head with a hardy laugh, so loud that Harry jumped in shock. It lasted for almost a full minute before he realized that nobody else was laughing with him and it slowed to a coughing halt.

"What?" he looked at Dumbledore again and saw the depth of his eyes. "You're serious?"

Hermione inched forward and pulled Harry along with her. "Look at him, Mr. Potter," she began. "You could be brothers."

She reached up and took Harry's glasses off. "Look at his eyes. Recognize them?"

James stepped forward, curiosity pulling him. He stared for a moment. "This ... this can't be. I left Lily with Harry only a moment ago. Floo'ed straight here when Dumbledore ... "

Hermione gave Harry back his glasses which broke him from his locked gaze.

Dumbledore brook the sudden silence. "Harry, can you tell us something that only he would know?"

Harry was about to tell Dumbledore that there wasn't anything, that both his parents were dead long before he even knew who they were when Hermione tugged on his cloak. He looked down and she mouthed the word, Patronus.

"My Patronus ..." he barked. "Um ... I mean ... " Harry shook his head. "You're a stag."

James recoiled as if he had just been slapped.

"Your Animagus form is a stag." Then he remembered that his father was an unregistered Animagus and looked over at Dumbledore.

He looked in the air immediately. "I believe Minerva and I have gone temporarily deaf."

Harry smiled and remembered he had said the same thing in Hagrid's hut years before.

He returned his gaze on his father. "And so are all the rest of the Marauders, except for Remus, because he's already a werewolf."

Harry thought for a moment and stuck his hand into the charmed pocket and pulled out a worn bit of parchment that he had placed in there long ago for safe keeping and handed it to James. his father unrolled it and Harry tapped it with his wand.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

The map of Hogwarts expanded to take up the parchment and there, in the headmaster's office were five tiny figures, two of which were labeled as James and Harry Potter.

"Filch confiscated this from Peter my seventh year," James whispered.

"And Fred and George Weasley will nick it from his office in about thirteen or fourteen more years. They gave it to me."

James backed up a step and collided with Dumbledore's desk, lost his balance and fell to the floor. Harry hurried forward and held out his hand. His father looked at it for a moment and held his own out as well for a pull upward. They stood there for a moment and he watched as his eyes slid sideways to Hermione. Harry looked over his shoulder at his girlfriend who was smiling brightly and covering, with her hands, all but her eyes which were steaming with tears of joy for Harry.

"Dad?"

James tracked back to the boy that stood before him. "Harry?"

He could no longer take the waiting and almost jumped on his father for a hug that was sixteen years in the making. He pulled him in, even though he knew James still had his doubts he didn't care for just this once, if no other, Harry Potter was going to find out what it felt like to hug his father.

James pulled back first, still trying to take in the revelation standing before him. "But how? Why? How?"

"The Annualis-Glass," said Harry.

James looked behind him at Dumbledore. "The what?"

"It is a time-turner of sorts, James. Your son has been sent from fifteen years in the future on a mission of great importance," explained Dumbledore.

Suddenly James was all business. "Mission?"

"I'm ... well Hermione and I are here to destroy Voldemort."

"You're what?" James responded. "Are you insane? You're much too young."

Hermione laughed.

"What's so funny?"

Hermione's smile hadn't faltered once. "We'll, Mr. Potter." She stepped up and took Harry's arm. "Harry, here, has faced Voldemort four times and won out each time."

That got everyone's attention. Dumbledore leaned forward, very interested. "How very intriguing." It seemed as if his temporary deafness had been cured.

Hermione nodded. "The first time was when he was only eleven years old."

"Eleven," cried McGonagall. "You must be joking."

Hermione shook her head proudly. "No, Professor. He saved the Philosopher's Stone from Voldemort and ..."

"Excuse me, Miss. Granger," Dumbledore interrupted. "Should you be telling us of future events?"

Hermione seemed taken aback. "Um ... yes, sir. You told us, or rather the you of our time told us specifically to forget all of the rules that are in place by the Ministry regarding time travel."

Dumbledore looked contented. "Well then, I suppose I had a good reason."

Hermione continued. "He also said to only interact with members of the Order of the Phoenix."

James looked somewhat annoyed. "Is there anything that you don't know about?"

Hermione nodded again. "Lots. But we do know where Voldemort will be on October 31, 1981. That's why we're here."

James' interest was peaked. "Not to seem indelicate, but why are you here?"

"Before you answer that, Harry, " said Dumbledore, "I would like you to answer another question first."

"Yes, sir." answered Harry.

"What is the status of your parents in your time."

His eyes widened as he swiveled his head up to meet his father's face. "Why, sir?"

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed slightly. "Because of yours and Miss. Granger's reaction upon seeing your father was one of ... how should I put this ... stunned shock?"

Harry looked down and set his hand on the armchair he was standing next to. Hermione's hand slid down his arms and came to rest in his own squeezing it softly. He looked at her and nodded as he sat abruptly.

Hermione looked back over to James. "Mr. Potter, the reason we know where Voldemort is on October 31 of next year is because that night ... Voldemort will come to your house in Godric's Hollow and attempt to kill Harry. You will try to hold him off long enough for your wife to get away with the baby, but it won't be enough."

She saw James' face go white.

"Lily Potter will sacrifice herself for Harry and in doing so cast a very ancient charm of protection around him that will cause Voldemort's Killing Curse to rebound back on himself, and end his reign for thirteen years."

James almost fell back a second time, but Dumbledore was faster and conjured a squashy armchair for him to fall onto. His mouth was working, but no noise was coming out for several moments. "Lily ..."

Harry took a deep breath. "We're here to change that, dad. I'm here to kill Voldemort once and for all."

James looked up at that. "How ... you're only ..."

Harry sat up straight. "My first year, Voldemort possessed a Hogwarts teacher and tried to kill me; I killed him instead, but his soul or spirit or whatever it was got away."

Hermione took his hand and smiled.

"My second year, Tom Riddle's diary turned up, again possessed by Voldemort's spirit. I followed him down into the Chamber of Secrets and killed the Basilisk he set upon me with this."

He reached into the charmed pocket of his cloak and pulled out the sword of Godric Gryffindor. Dumbledore's eyebrows raised and James looked on, more than shocked.

"In the process, I had gotten bitten and the tooth had broken off into my arm ... I used it to destroy the diary and Voldemort, once again."

He looked over at the Phoenix. "That's when I found out about Fawkes. He brought me the sorting hat that had the sword inside and healed me from the Basilisk poison."

He pulled up the sleeve of his once injured arm. A round scar stood where once a very large tooth had once penetrated.

"My fourth year, was the first time I dueled with Voldemort, face to face. He had kidnapped me when I had been injured by a giant spider, and used my blood to finish up his potion that would restore his body."

"Great Merlin!" exclaimed James.

Harry pulled out his wand. "Voldemort can't duel with me. The core of our wands contain Phoenix feathers given by Fawkes." He hefted the sword. "That's why I brought this."

Harry slid the sword back in his pocket and fell back to his chair. "Believe me when I say I will kill him." He looked down and back up. "He took you and mum away from me and made almost every day of my life a horror until I came to Hogwarts and met my friends."

"Miss. Granger said you face him four times." said Dumbledore.

Harry looked down and felt his eyes burn.

Hermione squeezed his hand once again and finished for him. "The scar Harry has, has given him a connection with Voldemort. He used it against Harry last June during O.W.L.'s. He lured Harry to the Department of Mysteries with the vision that Sirius was being tortured."

"Sirius? Black?" James asked.

Hermione nodded. "It was a trap and they were waiting for us. They wanted Harry to retrieve a Prophecy. The Order showed up in time to help, but Sirius was killed."

By this time James was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands covering his mouth in horror at what was happening and what will happen.

Harry gripped the arms of the chair until his knuckles turned white. His face was red with silent rage. "He will pay ... Bellatrix Lestrange will pay ... Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Avery, Dolohov, Macnair, Rookwood, will all pay." The last part, Harry looked to his father's face. "Wormtail will pay."

"Peter?" James said in disbelief.

Harry nodded stiffly. "You and mum performed the Fidelius Charm on your home in Godric's Hollow, and made Wormtail your Secret Keeper. He is a Death Eater. That's how Voldemort knew where to find you. That's how we know where to find him. That's how I am going to kill him."

Dumbledore leaned forward to catch James' eye. "Where is Peter?"

James was still trying to take it all in. "I ... I don't know. We don't keep tabs on each other like that. You could try his apartment."

"I would suggest that we do not contact him at all until the charm is to be performed. The chance that you might reveal something to him regarding this information is too great," said Dumbledore. "In the mean time I would further suggest Harry and Miss. Granger stay out of sight from anybody but Order members."

James seemed to have snapped out of his introspection and nodded. "They'll stay with Lily and I, of course."

Dumbledore smiled under his silver beard. "Of course."

"Stay with ... you and mum?" Harry said, his mouth hung open. "Really?"

James stood up and straightened his back, a grin spreading across his face. "I think it's about time you met your mother, Harry." Then as an afterthought. "I fancy she'll have a bigger shock than when she found out you were a boy."

He shook his head in remembrance. "She had it in her head for six months that you were going to be a girl."

Harry and Hermione stood up and she said, "No offense, Mr. Potter, but I'm glad Harry's not a girl."

James looked down at their hands, together. "I think separate rooms for you two."

Hermione's face reddened in response.

He turned to the fireplace and took a pinch of Floo Powder. "You've used the Floo before?"

They nodded.

"Good. Our destination is 'The Hollow.'"

James stepped into the fireplace and was away in a flash of green flame.

"Harry, before you leave." Dumbledore reached into his desk drawer and withdrew a silver bracelet. "If you find yourself in need to go out in public, please wear this."

Harry took the gift. "What is it?"

"A bracelet of Befuddlement. When you wear it, whoever sees you will think nothing strange about your appearance, as if you belonged wherever it is you go. You look far too much like James for anyone to discount you being anything but a blood relative, and James has no brothers or cousins."

Harry placed it in his charmed pocket and smiled. "Thank you, sir." He turned around and held his hand out to the fireplace. "Ladies first."

Harry wheeled his arms as he shot out of the fireplace at the Hollow. No matter how many times he traveled by the Floo Network, he always had to get used to a new location all over again.

Hermione was brushing herself off and straitening her hair while James made his way out of the large living room, or den that they ended up in. When she saw the wondering look in his eye, Hermione stepped up to him, smoothed out his cloak and smiled brightly.

"He's gone to get your mum."

He looked to the side and set his broom and bag down near the fireplace, trying not to look nervous.

"What if she doesn't like me?" he asked.

"Have you gone completely mad. Did you hit your head or something in the Floo?" She mocked him by checking by checking for large bumps on his head. "She's your mother. Of course she'll love you, no matter how old you are."

"But ..."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Harry, shut up and listen to me."

She took his hand and led him to a large, very plush couch and sat him down beside her. "Trust me on this one thing without any questions. I'm a girl; I know about these things."

A good thirty minutes went by without a word or a parent showing up. Harry paced back and forth making himself a nervous wreck.

"Would you please sit down. Your father can't just spring her on you and you are making me very nervous as well."

He stopped his pacing and leaned against the fireplace. "I'm sorry. I ..."

He stopped in mid sentence because standing in the doorway was a familiar figure: one he had seen a million times, but only in pictures and a few times in a enchanted mirror. She was half a head shorter than her husband and her dark red hair sat around her shoulders, full and wavy.

Harry suddenly didn't know what to do with his hands. He started to cross his arms and then they went to his pockets. Her very green eyes were glassy and tinted red most probably from crying.

"H ... Harry?"

He didn't remember the snitch that he must have swallowed for it couldn't be any other thing that would create such a large lump in his throat that prevented him from speaking. Instead he only nodded quickly.

She crossed the room so very slowly as if her eyes were deceiving her. The closer she got the more nervous Harry became. All the worst fears he had come to imagine passed before his eyes. What if he wasn't good enough, or smart enough, or anything that might not make her like him? What if she just didn't like him?

Lily Potter couldn't be more than a foot away from him as she took in his entire form from the scuffed shoes to the unkempt hair that was so like his father's, but she finally came to a halt on the very green eyes that matched her own, softly smiled and rose up on the balls of her feet to take her son into her arms.

Harry froze for a moment and a shuttering breath escaped his lungs as if he finally received what he most desired in his entire life. His eyes squeeze shut and he took in as much as he could remember about what it felt like. He would never forget this moment above all others in his remaining years. He had, at last, come home.

Reluctantly he released her when she stepped back and cupped his face with her hand. "You look so much like your father."

Harry sniffed and removed his glasses to wipe at his eyes. When he put them back on he saw that she was still staring at him. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and saw Hermione inching toward them.

"Mum, I want you to meet Hermione Granger."

Lily turned to the side and took in Hermione, critically. "You would be Harry's girlfriend?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes ma'am. It is a pleasure to meet you."

They shook hands and she looked back at her son. "You two must be thirsty and hungry. And James being as thoughtful as I think he has, hasn't offered you anything. It's been what, fifteen years since you've had something to drink. "

Harry smiled. "We ate lunch right before we left, but I could use something to get the taste of Pepper-up Potion out of my mouth."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, please."

Lily took Harry by the hand and led him down the hall with Hermione trailing, to the kitchen. This wasn't much like Grimmauld Place. Light was bursting through several windows along the wall. Everything was so clean and new looking . A table big enough to seat eight sat to the right of the room with a two tiered door, leading to what Harry could only assume was the backyard, was on the middle of the back wall and the very large kitchen was to the left.

"Have a seat. Do you have a preference; we have almost everything."

For the first time in his life Harry considered asking for Firewhisky to take the edge off his nerves, but thought better of it. "You wouldn't have any Butterbeer?"

She smiled and opened the pantry door, withdrawing two bottles and uncorked them on the way over to the table. Harry took a very long pull on his bottle, draining it halfway dry before he set it down in front of him.

His mother sat across from him still watching his every move. "Forgive me for staring. It's just ..."

Harry shook his head. "Don't worry, I'm used to it."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "What an odd thing to say."

Hermione made his excuses. "Harry is very famous in the wizarding world, Mrs. Potter. People tend to stare a lot, mostly at his scar."

"Scar?"

Harry pulled his hair from in front of his face to show the lightening bolt mark.

She frowned. "Is that where he ... where Voldemort ..."

Harry nodded. "But you saved me."

Her mouth turned to a grim smile. "And now you're here to save us?"

8. Changing the Future

Chapter Eight

Changing the Future

James, they later found out, was upstairs changing the baby, which he brought back downstairs to hand to his wife. Hermione was all smiles as she wiggled her fingers in front of little Harry's face and cooed at him.

Harry wasn't interested in looking at himself and stood up to peer out of the window. Green fields rolled in the distance and he could see no sign of human life whatsoever.

"No Muggles around here?" he asked.

Lily laughed at Hermione and the baby, but looked up to answer his question. "No, we thought it better to live in the country since James and Sirius are always on their brooms terrorizing the wildlife."

He looked over at his father who was eyeing him.

"Saw the broom you brought with you," James said. "Care to stretch your legs a little?"

Harry smiled. He thought it was just what he needed, to get back into the air and let his concerns drift away for a while. "Yes, sir. I think I'd like that."

Harry brought out his wand "Accio, Firebolt!"

James ducked out of the way as Harry's broom zipped past him and stopped right in front of it's owner. Lilly scoffed. "Boys and their brooms." Hermione only nodded solemnly in agreement.

James opened the back door and retrieved his own from the cabinet next to the door. "Come on Harry, before she has us doing chores."

He looked once to his mother and watched her smile softly at him, and he and his father were off.

James held out his broom as if displaying it proudly. "Cleansweep 6, Newest Model; fastest broom in years."

Harry tried not to snicker and showed him his broom. "Firebolt ... um ... really fast."

James looked out to the field. "See that large tree amongst the five smaller ones?"

Harry nodded.

"Race ya."

Harry's lips thinned and his eyes lit up. "I better give you a head start. They make brooms a lot faster in the future."

James frowned and mounted his. "Well don't say I didn't warn you."

He took off and Harry watched as he moved smoothly over the field. Hermione was at the back door watching as his mother came up from behind. "Oh, Harry. You are being uncharacteristically cruel. Go on and then slow down before you reach him."

Lily laughed. "Is Harry's really that fast."

James had reached the halfway mark then Harry mounted the Firebolt and shot off in a blur. He leaned into the stick to reduce the wind resistance and smiled as he blew past his father a second later and came to a halt beside the tree. By the time he was off, James had pulled up in front of him, open mouthed.

"Bloody Hell, Harry! It was like I was standing still or something." He looked at the Firebolt with envy creeping down his face, and Harry held it out to him.

"Care to give it spin?"

James touched down and handed Harry his Cleansweep. "Um ... don't mind if I do."

Harry leaned his father's broom against the tree and sat down at the base to watch. It wasn't five minutes before his father had the hang of the broom and was doing barrel-rolls and loops high in the air. He heard his yells and screams and laughter all around until he finally came back, landing smoothly a few yards away.

"Now that is a broom!" James said proudly handing it back to Harry. "Play Quidditch?"

Harry nodded proudly. "I'm Seeker for Gryffindor."

James beamed. "Well, now! I played a bit of seeking in my time. Ended up as a Chaser in the end though. Got too bored just sitting around."

They stayed out for most of the afternoon chasing each other around the yard until his mother came out in the back and used a Sonorus Charm to announce dinner.

James was the first through the back door. "Lily, did you see that Firebolt of Harry's?"

She nodded, looking rather bored until Harry noticed that she was playing with his father. "I thought you were going to fall off when I saw you up on that thing."

James scoffed. "Me, fall off a broom? Ha!"

Harry turned to the table and saw Hermione scooping tiny banana chunks into little Harry's mouth, looking as happy as she had been in ages. "Harry you were such an adorable baby."

Harry groaned. "This has to be worse than baby pictures."

Lilly laughed. "He's taken quite a shine to Hermione; he cries every time she leaves the room."

Hermione laughed as she spooned another bite into the baby's mouth which caused him to laugh in response and spit out the bananas on the table.

Harry looked on. "I think I'm going to be sick."

His father chuckled.

"Oh, James, Sirius called and said that he and Remus would be coming over for dinner."

James frowned. "Did you tell him to sod off and quit inviting himself to the house."

"Of course. Since when has that ever stopped him?"

Harry froze and James noticed. "Oh ... sorry. I forgot."

It was too late to say anything because off in the distance Harry could hear the unmistakable popping sound of two someones Apparating in the house.

His breath increased and his father saw the distinct sign of panic in his son's eyes.

"I'll head them off," James started, but Harry said "No."

The distinct voice of Sirius Black echoed in the hall, "Hi ho, Potter family. The dinner guests have arrived."

This was followed by the not so tired voice of Remus Lupin afterward. "Hide your daughters, Sirius is on the prowl."

They entered the kitchen a moment later to four sets of eyes staring at them; baby Harry still only had eyes for Hermione.

"Hello, whose this then?" Sirius asked. "I thought you didn't have any relatives on your side, James."

Everything was frozen in uncomfortable silence after the question until a wail sounded from little Harry. Hermione jumped and almost dropped the spoon, but resumed her feeding duties.

James stepped forward. "Sirius, Remus ... um, I know this is going to sound a bit daft and you're not going to believe me at first, but I want to introduce you to my son, Harry."

"What?" Sirius sounded loudly. "What kind of game is this, Prongs?"

Harry reached into his pants pocket and felt around for the knife Sirius had given him in his fifth year. It and the two way mirror were the only personal items he had left of his godfather. Granted, the blade had been melted away by whatever spells protected the unseen room in the Department of Mysteries, but all the same, he kept it with him wherever he went.

Harry pulled it out of his pocket and showed it to Sirius, which in turn made his godfather pat at his own pockets until he found his own knife.

"How?"

Remus looked back and forth between the two knives. "He could have purchased that at any ..." But Sirius stopped him.

"That's my knife. I chipped the edge of the molding last year when I dropped it down the stairs. It's chipped in exactly the same way."

"You gave this to me for Christmas of my fifth-year at Hogwarts," explained Harry. "You used to live at number twelve Grimmauld Place until you turned sixteen and then you lived at my grandparents house until ..."

Sirius held his hands up. "How do you know all of this?"

Harry continued. "Your brother joined the Death Eaters until he realized what they were really up to and tried to back out. He was killed by order of Voldemort. Your family disowned you and declared you a blood traitor. You are an Animagus, a large black dog. You became an Animagus because, you Remus are a werewolf."

Remus backed up a step and held on to the wall looking at James. Harry pocketed the broken knife.

"He's got the Marauders Map as well," said James.

Harry pulled it out of his cloak and handed it over, tapping it and giving the secret phrase.

Remus looked over Sirius' shoulder at the expanding layout of Hogwarts and the various figures moving around. "Sirius handed it back. "Mischief Managed."

"But ..." Sirius started, but Lily cut him off.

"Questions later. Food now. Eat."

They sat around the table and Harry stopped every few moments to look around at everyone. Remus sat next to Hermione.

"And I suppose you are their daughter or one of our daughters?"

Hermione almost choked on her food. "No, Professor Lupin. I'm Hermione Granger. Harry's my boyfriend."

Sirius laughed, "Professor Lupin ... Mooney a teacher? Since when?"

Remus was especially interested. Seeing as he was finding it increasingly difficult to find a job as of late.

"Our third year. Professor Lupin came to Hogwarts to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, but well ... the parents found out about you being a werewolf and you quit."

Harry smiled. "Best D.A.D.A. teacher I've ever had."

That brought back Remus' smile.

Near the end of the meal, Harry looked down at his empty plate and smiled to himself. Lily noticed.

"Harry?"

He looked up at her and around at the people sitting at the table. "It's just ..." He swallowed. "Well, this is the best meal I've ever had."

Sirius nodded. "Wait 'till you try her bread pudding. Best thing this side of London."

Harry shook his head. "It's not that. The food is great, but just getting to see you all ..." He felt his eyes beginning to burn again and scooted his chair out. "Excuse me, please." And he ran outside leaving behind a bewildered crowd.

He grabbed his Firebolt from the back porch and took to the sky at blazing speed, spiraling into air with the beginning of tears blowing back from his eyes and drying almost instantly. He climbed higher and higher until the house was as big as a pin head in comparison. Then he slowed to a halt and just hovered.

Harry felt himself an emotional wreck for the last few days and it was wearing on him until the slightest thing would set him off. One moment he was right as rain, then next a blubber baby that would make even Cho, the human hose pipe, seem calm in comparison.

After about fifteen or so minutes it took him to compose himself he directed his broom back down and dove faster than he had ever flown before. He slowed when the ground seemed to be approaching far too fast and pulled up watching everyone standing out in the back yard, looking up.

Harry realized that they thought something was wrong, which was the truth, but at the last second he decided that he wasn't going to be the object of pity and pulled up in a loop, yelling loudly, "WAAAAAAAHHHHHHOOOOOOO!"

He shot off again doing numerous spirals and tricks until he was convinced that they knew he was okay. By the time he landed Lily and Hermione were back inside getting the baby ready for a bath and the four men were in the den doing manly things like drinking Firewhisky and Butterbeer.

"Harry, I told them," said James. "Not everything, but enough."

Harry nodded and expected his father wouldn't keep any secrets from his closest friends.

Sirius was the most disturbed. "Wormtail, huh?"

Harry nodded again.

"And Remus is the only one still alive?"

Harry took another drink of Butterbeer. "Yeah."

He stared at Sirius and tried to compare the two people he was, then and now. His face was much fuller and his health still in it's prime. The Sirius he knew was only getting back his failed youth as before, until ...

"Would you tell us ... no, I'm sorry ..." he asked.

"It's okay. I don't mind," responded Harry.

He recounted the events leading up to James and Lily's deaths, and when Lily and Hermione joined them he continued with everything that had happened since: all five years including, the major events and Sirius' escape from Azkaban and subsequent rescue attempt at the Department of Mysteries.

It was several hours later and they had consumed many drinks and shared laughs and tears until the moment of Sirius' death.

"I couldn't reach you in time. Remus pulled me back and I watched as you disappeared behind the veil. It was all my fault."

But Sirius was taking it like it never happened, like it was a story to be told in front of a campfire or some such mundane event. "Bollocks, Harry. I would have done the exact same thing. Any of us would have."

Remus and James nodded in unison.

Harry continued as though nothing was said. "Dumbledore sent me back to Hogwarts and told me everything that morning. The prophecy," He looked at his parents. "The reason Voldemort killed you." And back to Sirius, "And why it was his fault that you died. But I know better.

"That's why I decided to straighten myself out and make things right. That's why Hermione and I are here."

"And during all of this," Hermione, trying to lighten things up, noted, "He managed to get eight out of nine O.W.L.'s with four Outstanding."

Harry smiled to himself and shook his head. Trust Hermione to remember the little things.

Lily smiled proudly, nonetheless. "That's very good, Harry."

He looked over at Remus who suddenly look rather ill. "Remus, are you okay?"

Sirius looked at him and nodded. "It's the full moon, tomorrow night and all. He'll be okay in a couple of days."

Hermione almost shot out of her seat. "Goodness. I've forgotten, Harry. "

"He looked at Hermione with confusion."

"The Wolfsbane Potion. It hasn't been invented yet. Not for another ten years."

Remus' eyes widened. "A cure?" he hoped.

Hermione's face fell in regret. "No, but it will make your time of it a lot easier, before and after, and you'll retain your rational mind throughout the transformation."

She looked at Lily. "You wouldn't have any potion ingredients around would you?"

She nodded. "Let me go put the baby down and I'll help you. I was fairly decent at potions myself."

The ladies disappeared out of the room, and James leaned forward, "Well that's a bit of good news, eh?"

"James," came a familiar voice from the fireplace.

It was Professor Dumbledore.

"I thought I would come over for a few words."

"Come on through, Professor. The coast is clear," said James.

His head vanished and a moment later the flames turned green and whooshed high, depositing Dumbledore in front of the hearth. Harry and the rest were about to stand and Dumbledore waved them down.

"Please do not get up on my account."

They made themselves comfortable once again and Dumbledore began.

"After your, shall we say, enlightening information I have devised a plan which should, if performed precisely, end Voldemort's reign once and for all."

The following month was one that was filled with joy and fulfillment for Harry. Hermione had an equal amount of happiness at seeing her boyfriend enjoy himself so much.

Harry's father told him so much in regards to his family that he felt almost normal and not like a display case oddity that was so much of his every day life.

The Fidelius Charm was performed, two weeks before the event, with Wormtail as Secret Keeper once more. Harry spent that time up in his room with Hermione so as not to be seen and give their plan away.

The rest of the time was spent in preparation for the night and when it finally arrived Harry was a bundle of nerves.

His father had taken him into a hug and set him back. "Harry ... it's been great getting to know you. And if ..."

Harry shook his head. "It'll work. I know it will."

James nodded. "But just in case." He paused and smiled. "I'm very proud of you, son. I know you haven't had an easy time of it growing up, but, well, I wanted you to know that I love you, and there will always be someone there for you: Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore. You can trust them to do what's right for you."

Harry nodded, not wanting to talk anymore. He moved back into his father's arms and burned the memory into his mind. "I love you too dad. But we're going to kick his arse back to hell tonight."

An hour later in a group of trees well hidden from the front of the house, the Order of the Phoenix stood guard waiting for the assault that could very possibly end this war.

"You can't worry about it, Harry. If you do then you are going to second guess yourself at the wrong moment."

He looked at Hermione. "You're right."

His wand twitched in his hand eager for the fight that would be soon in the making as dusk settled in around them. When Harry first encountered a Dementor he had experienced his parents dieing. He had watched the scene in his head a hundred times: James telling Lily to grab Harry and go, a flash of green light and his father's body, then Lily begging Voldemort to take her instead, just spare the baby.

Another flash of green light and her body lay prone on the ground, and then a third flash and darkness.

He played the vision in his head once more in his head feeling that something was wrong, but it stayed just out of reach, so much so that this frustrated him.

"What's that?" Someone said to the right.

Harry swiveled his head in time to see a small number of dark figures Apparating in the distance. It hadn't been that long since the last full moon and there was enough to light up the area fairly well. Harry's scar burned at once.

"It's him."

Dumbledore shifted, "Wait, not yet. Where is the other Voldemort, Harry."

He thought for a moment. His scar was searing and it was making it hard to think. "I don't know."

"We must let him enter the house. I speculate that the second Voldemort will only show his hand during the initial attack. Or perhaps ..."

Harry looked up to the wizened old man. "He's already in there."

He pushed past Sirius and took off at a sprint across the empty field in front of the house.

"Harry, wait!" he heard his father calling from behind him, but it was too late.

Five Death Eaters stood guard out in front of the house and were caught still staring at their master entering the front door.

Harry raised his wand and yelled. "Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy!"

Three of them went down and the last two were brought down by running figures behind him.

He heard Dumbledore's voice, "Now, Remus."

The last thing Harry heard was the anti-Apparation Jinx being performed around the house. Voldemort was trapped and he had to go through Harry to get out.

Green light filled the stairway as they raced up the steps to the Nursery. A scream was heard next as Harry assumed Voldemort had found the Golems they had been working on for the last two weeks. Beings made of dirt, rock, and clay, transfigured and charmed to look exactly like James, Lily and baby Harry were standing where Harry had said they would be, mimicking the words and actions they were told.

It wouldn't be long before the Golems reverted back to it's inert form, seconds at best, after the curse. Harry was first through the door, drawing the sword of Godric Gryffindor and slashing downward at the figure standing with his back to him.

A piercing scream filled the room and Harry yelled in hate and triumph. He withdrew the sword and blood spurted with it until the figure dropped and fell facing him ... except it wasn't Voldemort. It was Peter Pettigrew.

"You really didn't think I would be fooled by these pitiful Golems, Potter."

Harry spun around and to his horror saw Voldemort standing there in the corner. "You aren't Potter. but I suppose it doesn't matter."

Harry dropped his sword and went for his wand instead. It was the only way he knew of to hold his own against the power of Voldemort but he knew he would be too late.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Harry, no!"

His father jumped in front of the jet of green light and knocked his son aside. As the room was being engulfed in a massive nova of green light, he heard Hermione's voice from downstairs, screaming his name, and all was exploding sparkles as he knew he was being pulled back to the beginning of his adventure.

"Harry?"

The pain was familiar. The aching of his muscles screamed their displeasure once again.

"Harry?"

He recognized that voice from somewhere, but his ears were still ringing from traveling through time.

"Harry, open your eyes. Professor?"

"Poppy, your potion, if you please."

Harry opened his eyes and gasped. He felt hands sitting him up and a goblet being set to his lips. He remembered being given Pepper-up Potion and it making his body respond, before, so he drank deeply until he could hold the goblet on his own.

When he finished he swiveled his head around, "Hermione?"

Dumbledore looked into his eyes. "She is drinking her own potion and is safe, Harry."

Harry blinked as he felt strength return to his arms and legs, and then remembered what had just happened fifteen years in the past. "Professor, I have to go back, it didn't work."

The headmaster looked at Harry with a somber face. "The Annualis-Glass has been destroyed, Harry, and your mission has returned, how shall I say, somewhat mixed results."

"Harry?" said that familiar voice once again.

He turned around on the floor and looked eye to eye with his mother. She had aged, to be sure. Soft wrinkles had formed at her eyes and forehead. The laugh lines he had seen only hours before were cut somewhat deeper into her face, but it was his mother, all the same.

"Mum?"

She pulled him into her arms for a hug and released him as quick. He stared at her for a moment.

Harry looked behind her. "Where's dad?"

"Harry," Dumbledore interrupted. "It appears I miscalculated the coordinates for the Annualis-Glass and sent you back in time a month too far."

Hermione finished her potion and nodded.

"And it also seems as if you disregarded my directions as to the dispensation of your parents."

Harry didn't care, as long as they were okay.

"However, as I can tell, there were only a few changes as a result and those were of the more positive sort."

A few changes! Harry thought. His father was still alive. Voldemort missed!

He turned back around. "Where's dad?"

Harry heard steps coming up from the staircase and looked behind his mother to find his godfather approaching through the door.

"Hello, Harry."

"Sirius!" he yelled.

The sunken shell of a man he knew before his death in the Department of Mysteries was gone and in his place was the vibrant figure that he knew only hours before, older, but still whole. With this his face fell.

"Your father, Harry, I'm sorry to say, is still lost to you," continued Dumbledore.

Harry turned around. "But I've got to go back. I have to go back."

His mother pulled him back from behind and wrapped her arms around his. "You can't, Harry."

Dumbledore was outwardly saddened. "The Glass was created for one reason, Harry, and that was research. If it were to be used to change the past, it seems, then it would destroy itself in response. Be proud of what you have accomplished. You have saved the lives of your mother and your godfather."

He nodded, crestfallen and turned in his mother's arms. She petted his head softly and gave him words of consolation. "You were so brave, Harry. James was so proud of you."

After a moment or so he pulled away. "What happened?"

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "Harry first what you need to know is those of us that were present when the Glass was activated are somewhat immune from it's charms as are you and Hermione. The two of you will only remember the events as they originally took place."

Harry nodded.

"From what I've been able to piece together with conversations with your mother and Sirius is that the same effect that originally saved you from Voldemort's Killing Curse, brought about his destruction once again. Your father's sacrifice to save you was enough to rebound the Curse, but not enough to save himself."

Hermione looked confused. "So you don't remember what happened when we arrived in your office that day?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "The effects of the glass have clouded my memory as well as that of Professor McGonagall of your appearance, however not that of your mother, Sirius or Remus." He paused. "And since Peter was killed by your hand, Harry, Sirius was never sent to Azkaban for his murder."

A hand lay on his shoulder as he turned to look up into his godfather's eyes. "Thanks for that."

"The three of them conspired to keep silent about the events of that month until recently."

Hermione jumped in again. "But didn't you find it strange that Pettigrew died and Sirius didn't get sent to Azkaban and didn't die at the Department of Mysteries? Not to mention Harry's mother being alive and all?"

Dumbledore smiled. "This is why the Glass has been hidden these many years, Hermione. It has, or rather had, the ability to cloud one's mind of the changes in the timeline. Being a participant in the actual event I have been given certain immunities. Now that I know of what actually transpired, I remember that month as if it were yesterday and all of the differences in between. You two will not."

Harry was confused. "How's that?"

The headmaster leaned forward and intertwined his fingers. "You will not remember the last sixteen years, living in your mother's house. You will not remember having a lifetime of love and reassurance of having your mother and godfather with you and supporting you. You will not be the same Harry Potter that everyone knows."

Harry's eyes furrowed.

"Over the last year, you have been driven by one goal, Harry: your battle with Voldemort. It has made you, in some respects, different than the Harry Potter your friends will know you as. You must make allowances for that change."

Harry was overwhelmed and still very confused.

"Changing the past is a very tricky thing, Harry. Perhaps not all of your questions will be answered and perhaps things won't seem quite right with your new world, but you have to accept that the rules have been broken and deal with the consequences as they occur."

Hermione wasn't satisfied. "Professor, please, it seems as if paradox's abound. It shouldn't happen this way."

"Hermione, there are no hard and fast rules and that is why traveling through time is discouraged by the Ministry. This is not the Muggle world that obeys the laws of physics. This is the magical world ... the impossible happens here daily."

Harry took in the office. "How long have we been gone sir?"

Dumbledore looked at his watch. "A little over two hours, Harry. You will note that I have made excuses to your teachers for your absence in class today. You both have mysteriously taken ill and are to be back by dinner time. That should give you time enough to reacquaint yourselves with certain people."

Lily took Harry's hand and pulled him gently. "Thank you for your help, Professor."

Sirius headed down the stairway with Hermione close behind.

"Professor, one more question if you don't mind?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore raised his eyes.

"Voldemort. What happened here?"

Dumbledore shrugged. "Of that, I am not sure. The only conclusion I can come up with is that by what ever means he knew the Glass was located at Hogwarts, he also knew of the moment of it's destruction. It melted seconds after you left. With no hope of ever using the device I assume Voldemort thought better of his attempt to breech the castle walls."

The small group made their way to the Great Hall for a spot of tea and a obvious bit of catching up when they met Ron at the bottom of the Marble staircase.

"Harry, Hermione, Professor Sprout said you two were sick? I was just on my way to the Hospital Wing."

Hermione jumped in. "We're all better now. Just a touch of food poisoning or something."

That excuse didn't sit well with Ron. "Then what are your parents doing here, Harry?"

Sirius clamped his hand on Harry's shoulder and stepped in front of him to cover the wide eyes he was currently expressing. "They're still quite tired right now, Ron. Why don't you run off to the common room. They'll be along shortly."

"Right."

Hermione encouraged him along. "We won't be long, Ron. Just want to say goodbye and all."

He looked at all four of them with suspicion. "Oh, um, okay. See you in a little bit then."

Sirius turned back around. "Sorry ... didn't want you to find out like that."

Harry was still stunned. "How ... what ... why?"

His mother ushered them into the Hall and they all took a seat. "Harry, since your father died ... Sirius has looked out for our well being. He's been there from day one."

Hermione took his hand and held it in support.

"We didn't even ... I mean ..."

Sirius took over. "Harry, what your mother is trying to say is that she and I didn't even think about seeing each other until you first came to Hogwarts. Our main concern was that you grew up happy and healthy. I moved in shortly after your father died to help out as much as I could. A one year old is a hand full for two parents much less one by herself."

Harry kept looking back and forth between the two of them.

Lily smiled at Sirius. "I wouldn't have made it through those years without him, Harry. He and Remus were always there for you and I."

Sirius smiled back. "After you went off for your first year at Hogwarts ... well we got closer, but wanted to wait for your permission before anything else. That Christmas when you came home and brought Ron with you, you said it was the best Christmas gift you'd ever had. We talked about it and got married that next summer."

Harry coughed. "You've been married for five years?"

Sirius flinched. "Harry, please be happy for your mother. You don't understand what it's like being alone ..."

Harry stopped him. "Sirius ... I was alone for eleven years when I didn't have either of my parents. I know exactly what it's like to be alone and unloved. Why in the would you think that I would want my mother to suffer the same."

Sirus and Lily looked confused.

Harry continued. "I'm wondering what took you two so long? I mean nine whole years ..."

Sirius laughed louder than anytime Harry had heard before, and his mother looked as if a great weight had been lifted off her chest.

"Harry, I'm so glad that you aren't angry," said Lily. She took a moment to breathe properly. "I know that Professor Dumbledore said you wouldn't remember anything about how you were raised prior to your ... trip. But I want you to know Sirius has been the best father to you ..."

Harry didn't think twice about it. "Mum, Sirius was the only adult in my life that ever understood me. He died for me at the Department of Mysteries, which by the way I want to hear about how you managed to get past on that one. So I know he was and will still be a great father."

Harry felt another very large lump in his throat at thinking about it.

"Mrs. Pot ... um, Black?" Hermione tested and received a nod from Lily. "Harry was broken last summer after Sirius' death. For over two years he was the closest thing Harry had to a real father and most certainly as a connection to you and Mr. Potter." She squeezed Harry's hand. "I think I can speak for Harry when I say that if he can't have Mr. Potter back, then this is the next best thing."

Harry nodded.

Lily reached over and patted their hands. "I'm glad my little boy found you, Hermione."

Harry didn't even care that she called him a little boy. It didn't matter for he had two of the three people, he had thought were gone forever, back in his life.

9. Harrys Bane

Chapter Nine

Harry's Bane

Harry and Hermione still had an hour left before dinner when they escorted Sirius and Lily to the gates of Hogwarts. They did as promised and returned to the Gryffindor common room to explain as best they could to Ron about the last month and their little adventure. As expected, Ron was on the verge of complete confusion.

"You mean to tell me I had a rat ..."

"Scabbers." Harry prompted.

" ... that was really a wizard ... one of your dad's best friends ... a Death Eater?"

Hermione tried to explain. "Ron, you won't remember any of this, but it is what happened."

He looked bewildered. "And you killed him."

Harry nodded.

"And saved your mum and Sirius?"

He nodded again.

"You're both barking."

Harry covered his face with his hands and tried his hardest not to get frustrated with his best friend. He ran his fingers through his hair and leaned back in the armchair.

"Here now," said Ron. "Where did you get that scar?"

Harry and Hermione eyed each other and smiled.

"I got it when Voldemort tried to kill me --- the first time."

Ron leaned forward and looked closely at it. "You didn't have this a few hours ago at lunch. In fact it looks old."

"Almost fifteen years old to be exact, Ron," confirmed Hermione. "How many times do we have to tell you that we're telling the you truth?"

His eyes disappeared into his hairline. "Bugger, me! You are telling the truth!"

It only took them the time through dinner and half the walk back to the common room for Ron to quit talking to himself and answer some of their questions.

"You have to tell us what has been going on the last five years Ron." Hermione said. "Just the high points, so we can compare notes."

Ron shrugged. "Okay ... I guess I should start with the Philosopher's Stone."

Minor details changed, but for the most part their lives had stayed the same. The big difference was that their third year was normal. Since Sirius hadn't been put in Azkaban and Wormtail was already dead nothing along those lines had been the same.

Harry supposedly had the same connection with Voldemort as before but for a different reason that had to do with being the last in the line of Potter's. Something, again, having to do with the love of his father being passed on to his son, James' only surviving blood relative, through their blood.

Ron didn't really understand it, so couldn't expand on the subject with much information. The very few things they had to keep in mind were some of the relationships that were changed.

"You and Hermione were boyfriend/girlfriend since Yule Ball in fourth year."

Harry was taken aback. "Really? What happened?"

Ron laughed. "Quite funny, really. You had been mooning over her for ages and finally screwed up enough courage to ask her to the Yule Ball.

"Ages," Hermione said with great interest. "Since when?"

Ron shrugged. "Well, I guess it was when you went and got yourself petrified by that Basilisk. He wouldn't stay out of the Hospital Wing for the longest time. Always holding your hand and talking to you. You don't know how many times I had to drag him away, always telling him that you couldn't hear a bloody word he was saying."

Hermione looked up at Harry with romantic thoughts clear on her face.

Harry smiled somewhat nervously back and tried to change the somewhere else. "What about you and Luna?"

Ron shrugged. "Oh, she's ... hold on? How did you know about that?"

"You've been writing back and forth all summer, well at least you were before we changed things. I just assumed."

Ron nodded. "I guess some things haven't changed at all then."

Luckily Harry's schedule hadn't been affected and he didn't have any problem taking up where he left off. Transfiguration and Evocation went off without a hitch even with McGonagall giving Harry knowing stares every ten minutes or so.

The Defense class, however, had provided a surprise when they arrived and found their seats. The attendees were the same with the exception of Ron Weasley.

"Why are you so surprised to see me here?" asked Ron.

Harry leaned in close. "You failed your Defense O.W.L."

Ron goggled at him. "Did not! I got eight of nine O.W.L.'s just like you. Same courses even."

Hermione stuck her head around. "Ron, that's wonderful!" she whispered.

The door at the top of the stairs that led to the Defense Professor's office opened at that moment and everyone turned to face forward. Harry caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see what Kingsley Shaklebolt had in store for today's lesson. He didn't expect to see a wizard in pure gray robes stepping in front of them and not the tall dark form of the D.A.D.A. teacher he had come to admire.

"Professor Lupin?"

Remus Lupin looked up from the book he was carrying. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"

Hermione clutched Harry's arm and shook her head slightly.

"Sorry, Sir. It can wait until after class."

Lupin nodded and began his class. Harry stared at the once bedraggled form of his father's friend which now appeared to be in the best of health. Gone was the prematurely gray hair and the perpetually tired look about his face. Also missing were the worn robes of the poor and often pitied person Harry had come to know.

"As I noted in Monday's lecture we are to begin your sixth year lessons with a deeper delving into the Dark Arts themselves. In a simple sentence, 'if one is to defeat an enemy, one must understand the motivations and intelligence of that enemy.'"

He set the book he was reading down on his desk and clasped his hands behind his back. "One of the privileges offered to sixth and seventh year students is controlled but unlimited access to the restricted section of the library."

Hermione leaned forward with an almost eager look to her face as if she were about to be granted her most fondest wish.

"For the remainder of first term you will be regulated to the Library on your own reconnaissance to prepare the beginnings of your N.E.W.T. level practice exam for next year."

Harry was confused. Weren't they going to have any practical lessons?

"I expect your theorems on my desk no later than Monday the twenty-third of this month. That gives you two and a half weeks to peruse the restricted section for a Dark Lord of topic. Do not forget, sixth-year practical lessons with Mr. Potter begin tonight, and also remember that he will be submitting detailed reports on the progress of each of you."

His eyes narrowed. "Do not think that I will not be paying close attention to the reports. Those of you that are not up to snuff with your practicing of current defense spells and counter-jinxes will not be allowed to continue until each is mastered."

A low rumble of whispering was heard throughout the class.

"Mr. Potter, what is your first lesson pertaining to?"

Harry was caught off guard. He was expecting to begin D.A. classes next week and hadn't so much as thought about what would be covered. He and Kingsley were supposed to be practicing whatever they learned in class.

So he popped up with the first and most impressive thing he could think of. "Um ... the Patronus Charm."

Lupin's eyes widened with mild surprise. "And why would you want to start with such a unusual charm."

Harry's brows furrowed. He leaned over to Ron and whispered, "Dementors aren't in Azkaban, right?"

Ron nodded quickly.

"Because Voldemort has control of the Dementors, sir."

He heard intakes of breath and sharp gasps from behind him.

Lupin smiled and held his hand out. "Would you like to explain to the class why this is a bad thing?"

"Well ..."

"Come down here, Mr. Potter so they may hear you properly," Lupin directed.

Harry rose from his seat and stepped forward. His stomach clenched in nervous despair. It's just like teaching D.A. class, he told himself.

He turned. "Erm ... well ... it's like you've got to ask, what do Dementors feed off of."

Neville Longbottom raised his hand and said, "They suck the happiness out of you and feed on despair and fear."

Harry nodded. "And who can give them what they want the most: us with a few prisoners that don't last very long, because they eventually die from despair, or Voldemort with an unlimited supply of victims?" He paused. "With wizards ... Death Eater's, you have a fighting chance. With Dementors, you either chase them off with the Patronus Charm or have your soul sucked out of you."

Lupin stepped forward, "Thank you Mr. Potter. You may take your seat."

Harry gladly sat down and slumped a little in his seat.

"I expect a very good report from tonight's lesson. We need results." Lupin turned and walked the length of the class. "Some of you may think the Patronus beyond your capabilities as a good number of wizards and witches well beyond your years have not been able to effectively conjure a fully corporeal figure. But I think with the proper motivation, each and every one of you will conquer that particular demon."

He eyed each student in turn. "Very well, off you go."

The three of them stayed behind after class was dismissed as they had free time until lunch.

Lupin smiled at Harry. "Expecting a bit much from the students, Harry?"

Harry thought on it for a moment. "They have to learn. My Patronus has saved me more than a few times."

Lupin stepped back and sat on his desk, staring poignantly at Harry. "So it's finally happened."

"Sir?"

"You're not the Harry Potter that I knew on Monday anymore are you?" he said somberly.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other. "No, Sir."

Lupin nodded. "That explains why you looked so shocked when you first saw me this morning."

"About that, Sir," said Hermione. "Your condition, I thought ..."

He smiled. "I have you to thank for my current condition, Hermione. It was only three years ago when the master potion makers devised a way to hold the wolf at bay and restore my vitality."

She gasped, "They've perfected the Wolfsbane Potion?"

He nodded. "One more step toward a cure."

They all stood in silence for a moment that was broken by Lupin. "Well, to the library with you. You've got a massive project ahead due sooner than you think."

Harry started to protest about his lack of preparedness when Hermione showed him their course syllabus outlining what was expected of them.

They retreated to the confines of the library with the rest of their class. Hermione was in heaven; hundreds of books, once just beyond her reach, were now accessible anytime of day.

Harry looked at the titles with varied displays of trepidation. "Think I should pick Voldemort or someone else?"

Hermione looked at him. "Are you asking my opinion or just pontificating?"

"Pon ... what?"

She laughed to herself. "Are you talking to hear yourself talk? Are you reasoning the question out or do you want my opinion?"

Harry quirked an eye at her to find out if she was serious. "Asking ... I was asking."

She looked at him and chewed on her lower lip which he was beginning to enjoy.

"I think you should do Voldemort, but I think you should use the past reigns of previous Dark Lord's, as far back as you can to deduce what exactly motivates him. You can use specific examples from each of the other Dark Lord's as focal points of discussion and where they went wrong ... "

Harry cut her off. "So you're saying, Voldemort?"

Hermione sighed. "Sometimes I thing you're hopeless, Harry." She paused. "I am speaking of researching the heart of the Dark Arts itself by knowing those that it ruled, and doing a comprehensive analysis of the mind of a Dark Lord in general. I think it would be an excellent way to deduce the probable target, locations, and ultimate goals of a future Dark Lord."

Harry was still staring. "So, Voldemort?"

She shook her head and sighed. "Hopeless, utterly hopeless."

Harry looked at Ron. "What?"

"Got me, mate. I think you should do ... him."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron, why don't you just say his name? It's just a name."

He tried to look a little tougher. "I didn't say He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, did I? Or even You-Know-Who."

She nodded. "Well I guess that's a start." She looked back up at the bookshelf and pulled down an ancient looking tome. "Here Harry, start with this." Hermione decided to use another tactic. "Use it for background for your report. Think of it as filling up space."

Now that was what Harry could understand. "Oh, okay. Why didn't you say so in the first place?"

They found an abandoned table and began flipping though their chosen books, although Harry noticed that Hermione hadn't picked out a book on any particular Dark Lord. Instead she had chosen a very large tome on Dark Arts spells.

Ron saw Harry staring the title, Cruel Conjurations for the Caitiff Caster. "Thinking about hexing Malfoy at lunch?"

Hermione looked up quizzically, "Hmm?"

He pointed at the book and she realized what he was talking about. "Oh, I thought I would see if there was anything useful." Her head turned to Harry who was looking at her. "Really ... maybe we could use some of the spells in D.A."

"What's D.A." asked Ron.

"You said Umbridge was here last year," insisted Harry.

Ron looked defensive. "She was."

"And what did you call the class that Harry taught?" asked Hermione.

Ron looked back and forth between the two of them. "Um .. Hermione, I don't know if you know it, but Harry isn't a Professor."

Her face sunk and her eye twitched with frustration. "Ron, who taught Defense last year?"

"Professor Lupin, but he had his feet cut out from under him by Umbridge. Couldn't practice practical spells at all."

Then what position did Umbridge hold?" asked Hermione.

"She was Hogwarts High Inquisitor. Fudge sent her in to shake things up when they thought Dumbledore was trying to take over the Ministry; kicked him out and everything."

Harry leaned in to whisper when he saw Madame Pince eyeing them. "Then how did we all get Outstanding on our O.W.L.'s?"

"We practiced in the common room."

Harry shook his head trying to clear out the confusion. "Let me get this straight: Umbridge comes in, sacks Dumbledore, then we practice in a common room full of people that could just give us up at a moments notice?"

Ron looked offended. "Blimey, Harry, we were all Gryffindors. Nobody was going to rat on us."

"So why am I teaching Practical lessons at night?"

"'Cause you scored the highest Defense O.W.L. in a over hundred years." Ron paused for a second to see his friend's reaction. "Umbridge was right there for your Practical test and kept insisting you do one more charm and then another, and then jinx after jinx. She thought you would slip up, but the tester thought you were brilliant." He paused again. "Harry you were doing N.E.W.T. level Defensive charms like they were nothing! Professor Lupin was laughing his arse off the entire time. Tell me you can still do those charms."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, but I studied my butt off to learn them."

"Ewww!" cried Hermione.

"What," the boys said at the same time.

She pointed at an entry in the book. "I've just found out how to turn someone's skin inside out." She shut the cover and looked green. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Ron pulled his papers out of the way. "Well, do it over there. This is all the spare parchment I have."

Hermione's eye twitch came back. At least she didn't spew.

The last class of the day, Advanced Potions, proved to be more fun than was expected. Malfoy's caldron sprouted a leak and he didn't notice until his robes were soaked with Itching Solution. It made for a much more enjoyable class, even with the five points taken off, by Snape, for laughing ... like Malfoy wouldn't have laughed.

Six o'clock arrived faster than Harry realized. He arrived at the Defense classroom and looked around at the mulling students that were starting to move the desks out of the way.

"Change of plans everyone."

The sixth-years heads starting popping up to see what Harry had to say.

"I've found a better room."

He lead them down the corridor and up the stairs to the seventh floor. Before he arrived at the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by several trolls he stopped them. "Wait here."

He proceeded down the corridor and walked passed the portrait three times. We need a place to practice ... we need a place to practice he repeated over and over in his head.

Harry kept looking at the wall each time he passed and after the third turn a highly polished door appeared with a shining brass handle. He heard voices from behind him.

"Where did that come from?"

He grasped the bass handle and opened the door for everyone to enter. Lots of oohhs and ahhs were heard upon entering. Once then last student passed, Harry followed suit and saw the Room of Requirement was much the same as last year.

All four walls were lined with bookcases, and torches. A hundred or so silk cushions lay stacked on one side. All of the sixth-years were marveling at the room; even Malfoy and his cronies seemed impressed until they realized that Harry was watching then they sneered and found a empty piece of wall to hold up.

"Okay, lets get started," he called out, but only a few people heard him.

Where's that whistle? Harry looked to the same table from last year and there laying on one side was a brass whistle with a garnet and gold lanyard attached. He placed it around his neck and blew hard on the whistle.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and came to some sort of attention.

"Right ... well then, I think we should start." He walked to one end of the rectangular room. "Everyone in a straight line and face that way." He pointed outward to the expanse of the room.

"Now, show of hands. Who can already produce a corporeal Patronus?"

Hermione immediately raised hers and that was it. Harry inwardly groaned.

"Does anyone know the incantation?"

Hermione raised her hand, this time along with everyone else. Seemingly everyone else had, at least, studied the charm.

"Well, that's something," he said sarcastically in a low voice.

He pulled his wand out. "As you should already know, each Patronum is different for each wizard so don't be surprised if yours is large or small, or even somewhere in between." He looked at his girlfriend. "Hermione would you mind showing us yours?"

She stepped forward and closed her eyes for a moment. A small smile appeared on her face and she raised her wand. "Expecto Patronum!"

Silver mist erupted from her wand in the shape of a otter, which made a quick pass down the length of the room and returned to gambol around her feet then it quickly faded away.

Some of the girl of from the different houses squeaked and cooed at the cute figure. Hermione returned to the line.

"And this is mine." Harry closed his eyes and thought of the first time he hugged his mother. "Expecto Patronum!"

His silver stag jumped forth, galloping the length of the room, and darting back along the front of the line. Malfoy jumped back when the stag lowered it's antlers at him before fading into the air.

"I want everyone to think of your most happiest memory; that's what gives the charm its power. A Dementor's main weapon is fear and dread. You counter that with happiness." Harry watched as some people closed their eyes and smiled while others looked like they were deciding what they were going to think of in the first place.

"Once you think you have a good memory go on and give it a try."

He saw Susan Bones step forward and cry, "Expecto Patronum!"

Silver sparks issued forth, but nothing else. She stepped back looking dejected.

"That was great, Susan; better than my first try," encouraged Harry.

She smiled at him for the praise.

"Try thinking of something happier."

Ron stepped forward and tried ... nothing happened at all. Harry was going to suggest something, but he heard Malfoy snicker from down the line.

"How about you, Malfoy?"

The platinum blonde froze and cast a fiery gaze at Harry. Then he stepped forward and closed his eyes. throwing his arm back and stabbing forward he yelled, "Expecto Patronum!"

Almost all of the Gryffindors laughed as his wand fell out of his hand shooting off red sparks as it fell to the ground.

Harry turned back with a straight face. "That is a perfect example of how not to perform the Patronus Charm."

Malfoy bent over and picked up his wand, and several Gryffindors, armed with a new happy thought, stepped forward producing everything from silver sparks to silver vapor. That encouraged the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaws to try.

After thirty minutes of correcting wand movements and a few pronunciation adjustments Harry went to retrieve his clipboard to mark progress scores for each student. By the end of the hour, with instructions to practice on improving the intensity of the silver vapor, that they all managed to produce, he dismissed all of Gryffindor and all but two of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Only one Slytherin got to leave.

Malfoy was in a fit state and had not even produced so much as a batch of silver sparks.

An additional thirty minutes of practice and all that was left were ten Slytherins. Harry yawned and stretched his back out. "I'd like to get some homework done tonight, Malfoy."

"Bugger off, Potter."

"You want to 'bugger the Prof, Malfoy'? Um ... no thanks, I've got a girlfriend. Maybe Crabbe or Goyle can take care of that for you." Harry grinned in response and started marking off 'no improvement' under the remaining names. "That's all, dismissed."

When he looked back up Malfoy and his cronies were standing in front of him; the rest of the Slytherins were filing out of the door.

Uh, oh. he thought.

Harry watched as Goyle's hands were clenching and unclenching repeatedly, Crabbe was merely scowling, and Malfoy had a satisfied smile on his face. "Would you like to rethink those scores, Potter?"

Through narrowed eyes, Harry said, "Would you like to produce a Patronus, Malfoy?"

The blonde Slytherin seethed and gripped his wand tightly. "One of these days, when you aren't looking ... you're dead, Potter."

Harry set the clipboard down and leaned against the table. "Why wait? Too much of a coward to do it now?"

Malfoy raised his wand and Harry pushed back against the table raising both his legs and slammed them into the blonde's stomach. In the time it took Harry to regain his footing he had his wand out and was watching as Malfoy slammed into Crabbe and Goyle, knocking them backward and off balance as well.

"Stupify! Stupify! Impedimenta!" yelled Harry, in rapid succession, followed by three separate Incarcerous Charms. The three Slytherins were effectively bound from shoulder to foot with magical ropes. He snatched up their wands and pocketed them.

As soon as the Impediment Curse passed, Malfoy stared daggers at Harry.

"Next time you're going to kill me, Malfoy, I'd suggest bringing more stooges." He grabbed his clipboard and headed for the door, then stopped and raised his wand once more. "Rictusempra!" Malfoy immediately started laughing uncontrollably. "Have a nice night."

On the way back down the stairs he stopped by Lupin's office and dropped off the clipboard.

"How did things go tonight, Harry?" asked Lupin.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Pretty good. The majority of them should have it down in a couple of months."

Lupin's eyebrows raised. "Really?"

Harry nodded and smiled. "I think the Slytherins are going to have a problem though; namely the three that are still tied up in the Room of Requirement."

Lupin quirked an eyebrow, mainly because he knew Harry so well. "Tied up?"

Harry picked three wands out of his pocket and laid them on the desk. "They were going to teach me a lesson for not giving them credit for something they couldn't do."

Lupin stood up. "The Room of what? And why didn't you just take away house points?"

That was surprising. "I can do that?"

Lupin groaned, "Show me where they are."

Harry tried to control his laughter all the way up to the seventh floor, but as he reached each landing a small yip or chuckle slipped out.

Forty feet down the hallway they stopped in front of the highly polished door. "That's a bathroom, Harry."

"That's the Room of Requirement, sir."

Lupin looked highly skeptical, and opened the door. He took one step inside and his jaw unhinged. "Where did ... when ...?"

"It changes to fit the need of the person walking in front of the door. I guess you really needed to use the loo when you found it."

Lupin laughed out loud. "I suppose I did."

They were distracted by the sound of someone else's laughter, Malfoy's, to be exact. Crabbe and Goyle were still stunned and Malfoy's face was very red from laughing for fifteen or twenty minutes.

Lupin looked down at him and raised his wand. "Finite Incantatum!" He dispelled the ropes as well and woke up Crabbe and Goyle for good measure. They were on their feet moments later.

Malfoy pointed his finger at Harry, accusingly. "He hexed us for no reason, Professor." Then as an afterthought. "While our backs were turned."

Lupin nodded thoughtfully. "What else did Mr. Potter do?"

Malfoy thought he was getting the upper hand. "He called us names during class and wouldn't teach any of the Slytherins. Kept us here long after he dismissed the Gryffindors, and then when we wouldn't fetch him something to drink he stunned Crabbe and Goyle here and tied them up. "

It seemed like he was on a roll when Lupin looked shocked.

"Then I tried to defend myself and tripped over Goyle here. That's when he put the Impediment curse on me and kicked me in the ribs." Suddenly he reached his hand up and curled it around his ribcage. "I think I he might have broken something, Sir."

Harry stepped up, "Sir, that isn't ..."

"Be quiet, Mr. Potter." He turned to Crabbe and Goyle. "Is this what happened?"

They both nodded and Goyle added for good measure, "He kicked Draco three times, Sir. I tried to stop him, but ..."

Lupin smiled, "But you were stunned."

"Yes, Sir." It took a moment for the comment to register in his apparently very dim head. "Um ..."

Malfoy's face turned ashen white.

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Crabbe, Mr. Goyle, have you forgotten to whom, or perhaps I should say what, you are speaking to?"

Malfoy swallowed slowly.

"I am a werewolf, gentlemen. My auditory and olfactory senses are much more acute than the average normal human. In other words, I can tell when you're lying, and I haven't heard a whopper like that in quite a while."

"But ...," Malfoy pleaded.

Lupin held his hand up. "Please Mr. Malfoy, don't make it any worse. I will be sending letters to your parents. All three of you will be serving a week's detention with Professor Hagrid, cleaning out the Hippogriff's stalls, without magic. I'm also deducting thirty points apiece for assaulting Mr. Potter in the course of his assigned duties, and an additional twenty points apiece for blatantly lying to me."

Malfoy looked like he was going to be sick. Crabbe and Goyle's shoulders sagged even more than they normally did.

"I will be keeping your wands. You can inform Professor Snape he may pick them up from my office after I've had a talk with him as well." He place his hands on his hips. "Now, you may return to your common room with this last bit of notice. If you ever pull this kind of stunt again I shall see to it personally that you are brought up before the headmaster for immediate expulsion from Hogwarts."

By this time, Malfoy's face had returned to it's natural color and exceeded into an angry, flaming red before he and his cohorts exited the room.

Once the door had closed Lupin turned. "Harry ..."

Harry had his eyes closed and was holding his hands up. "Hold on I need to play that back in my head a few times."

Lupin shook his own head. "They could have severely hurt you tonight."

Harry snapped his eyes open. "Malfoy? Ha!"

Lupin turned serious. "Have you forgotten who his father is?"

The smile fell from Harry's face. "Malfoy's still in Azkaban, right?"

The professor nodded. "That doesn't mean he didn't teach his son all sorts of nasty spells, any one of which could have ended your teaching career, not to mention your life. Don't antagonize him, Harry, if for nothing else than my peace of mind."

"Yes, Sir."

All serious talk aside, Lupin looked around. "This room is great! How did you find it."

"Well, last year ... before things got changed, Umbridge was Defense teacher and wouldn't let us practice practical spells. One of the house elves told me about it. All you have to do is walk in front of the door about three times and think of what kind of room you need."

He walked around and looked at some of the books on the shelves. His face turned grim and he pulled one from the shelf. "This should be in the Restricted Section of the library."

Harry shook his head. "You can take it down there, but it will be back the next time I ask for the room."

That didn't seem to please the professor.

"But don't worry. Hermione tried to take a couple out to study and they vanished from her hands as soon as she walked out of the door. And the students don't have time to read when we're practicing."

"Make sure they don't," said Lupin. "At least not anyone under sixth-year."

Harry nodded. "Yes, Sir."

"Good work tonight, Harry. I really didn't think you would be able to progress as far as you have with the Patronus Charm."

They walked out together.

"It's all in believing that you can, Sir."

Harry sat in his favorite armchair, in the Gryffindor common room, beside Ron and Hermione.

"A hundred-and-fifty points?" yelled Ron. "And he has to sling Hippogriff dung for a week?"

Harry nodded.

"We have to get Creevey to take a picture of that. I'd frame it by my bedside table for the rest of my life.

Hermione didn't take the news as well. "Harry, you could have been hurt!"

He shrugged. "It was just Malfoy."

She sat forward in her chair. "Who, I'm sure, knows a thousand different ways to hex you."

Harry didn't look scared.

"I'm not leaving you alone in that room again," she resolved.

"It's not that big of a deal, Hermione."

A look of resolve came over her face. "I'll just bring my homework along next time and do it there until class is over."

Ron nodded, "Me too, mate. Can't be too careful with those three."

Harry pulled up his Potions homework. "I wouldn't worry about it. Lupin says if they do it again he'll get Dumbledore to expel them."

Ron looked like he was running a hundred different scenarios in his head. "Cool."

It was almost eleven o'clock when Harry and Hermione had finished practicing their Evocation charms and packed up their respective school bags. Ron had long since gone upstairs and was probably asleep.

"See you tomorrow morning?" Hermione said softly.

Harry nodded, closing in on her. "Want to do something this weekend? It'll be the last free one before Quidditch practice starts."

She nodded quickly and shyly. "Yes."

"Any ideas?"

She looked down and then back up into his eyes. "I'll think of something and tell you tomorrow."

Harry leaned into her and watched as her eyes followed his lips in anticipation. He heard her breath catch and her tongue flick out to moisten her own lips. The kiss was slow and soft leaving Hermione in a sleepy and dazed state when she reopened her eyes.

"I love your lips, Harry."

One side of his mouth curled up. "Yours are pretty nice, too."

Her eyes sparkled and she pulled her school bag to her chest, lowering her head to hide most of her face. She ran to the staircase and made it halfway up when she stopped. "Goodnight, Harry."

Harry waved and returned her smile, watching until she was safely behind the dormitory door. He slung his bag over his shoulder. "You got it bad, Potter. You got it real bad."

10. The Burning Pain

Chapter Ten

The Slytherin table was in shock the next morning when they awoke to find they only had no emeralds at the bottom of their hourglass, as they had all been taken away the night previous. Once word spread about what had happened, they were all gazing menacingly at Harry with occasional glances at Lupin as well. He could only guess what kind of story Malfoy actually told them.

"Be careful today, Harry," warned a very concerned Hermione.

Three people after him was one thing but 250 was something quite different. "Um ... okay."

He and Ron were sure to leave much earlier than normal to Herbology class to avoid as many Slytherins as possible in the hallway. They didn't even bother hiding the fact that their wands were in their hands and anyone that even looked like they might hex them would be in serious trouble.

The did manage to make it to the greenhouses without much fanfare, breathing easier when they spotted Professor Sprout setting out dragon-hide gloves and clear face-guards down the length of the tables.

"Ah, good. Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley since you're early, grab a handful of gloves and set them out for me, would you please?"

This didn't bode well. Usually when the heavy gloves came out it meant there was a dangerous lesson ahead. They were done a few minutes later and took their traditional places as the class started filing in afterward.

"Today," Professor Sprout started off, "we will be milking the Neptunian Meat Eater. Can anyone tell me what we can use the secretions for?"

Neville, as always in Herbology, was the first with his hand up.

"Yes, Mr. Longbottom?"

"In diluted amounts it can be used as a household cleaner and magical pest repellant," answered Neville.

"Very good, five points for Gryffindor." She pulled on her gloves and donned the protective mask. "What Mr. Longbottom has not told you is that in it's raw form it will act as a very strong corrosive, hence the strong precautions we will be taking today. Suit up."

Everyone took out their protective coverings from underneath the table and donned them, clasping them closed, then proceeded to put on their gloves and protective masks.

Professor Sprout went to a locked door, produced her wand and with a mutter, the lock sprang open allowing access to the room beyond. "You will proceed in groups of four to retrieve a potted Neptunian. Be very careful of it's mouth extending from the top of the restraints. They can take off a limb if given enough time."

That was comforting, Harry thought.

He and Ron were part of the third group to retrieve their plant and set it on the table in front of them. The Neptunian Man Eater was red and purple in color with rounded protrusions along the length of the trunk that stuck up about a foot and a half in height. A large mouth-like appendage had developed at the top of the trunk and was restrained to keep it from moving around and taking large chunks out of any passers-by.

"To properly milk the Neptunian, you must hold your collector over a chosen pustule and poke it with the needle provided. The secretions will shoot out and you must be sure to collect all of the secretion, especially at first because there will be quite a jet." She paused. "Proceed."

Ron held up one of the collectors over the trunk of the plant and Harry poked it with the needle. "They both almost jumped back at the amount of black pus that shot out."

Ron looked a pale shade of green. "I shouldn't of eaten so much breakfast."

Malfoy laughed from down the table as Pansy Parkinson repeatedly stabbed at his plant, making the pus shoot out a number of times into his collector. "Kind of reminds me of your sister's face, Weasley."

Ron glared at Malfoy and Harry shot back. "Thinking about how much fun your going to have this afternoon shoveling Hippogriff dung, Malfoy? I know I am."

"Draco, you're spilling it," cried Pansy.

He straightened up his collector and overcompensated for it, slopping it onto his gloves. In response, several things happened at once: Pansy accidentally poked another pustule, Malfoy dropped the collector in a overexcited attempt to peel off his dragon-hide glove that was now covered in puss, he also spun around screaming in feigned agony and knocked his Neptunian Man Eater over in the process.

Everyone watched as it fell over and the pot shattered on the ground Pansy fell backward as she tried to get away and slipped in the splattered pus on the floor. The restraint that was holding the Neptunian shattered as well and it was thrashing around in a vain attempt to bite something. Pansy's shoe started steaming as the corrosive ate it's way through the sole, and Malfoy was no help as he was still waving his hand around and yelling for someone to get it off.

Harry pushed him aside and stepped on the neck of the Neptunian to hold it at bay as he grabbed a hold of Pansy's shoe and slipped it off her foot. He held her leg up with his free hand so she wouldn't inadvertently drop it back down in the pus as she scrambled away to safety.

Just as Harry was about to let go he heard Malfoy yell, "Potter, get your hands off my girlfriend.

Professor Sprout, who had pushed her way through the crowd to help, reached for his hand at the last second and missed. "NO!"

Malfoy had grabbed the back of Harry's robes and started to pull him away. It only took a second to for Harry to feel the burning at the base of his neck.

"AaaaarrRRGGGG!" he yelled in pain.

It felt as if his neck was quickly being burned to the bone when Professor sprout pulled him away and tossed him to the floor, clear of the spilled pus. "Longbottom, the Base, NOW!"

It seemed like an eternity until he felt cool liquid running along his neck and his back. Harry's vision swam in swift relief. "Weasley, Finnigan, take him to the Hospital Wing, and take this in case I missed a spot." She handed him a half empty bottle of the base, whatever that was. "Longbottom, make sure all of these plants get back to their shelves. Malfoy take your damn gloves off; you're coming with me to the headmaster's office."

Seamus and Ron hauled Harry up from underneath his shoulders and half-carried, half-dragged him down the hall and up the steps to the Hospital Wing. By the time they had burst through the double doors Harry had lost consciousness.

"Please Madam Pomfrey, just for a moment."

A cloudiness raised up from Harry's awareness at the sound of Hermione's voice. He started to call out for her, but realized he was laying face down on a very strange bed; it allowed an opening for most of his face at the head. And stranger still, was that he seemed to be strapped down so that he could not even move.

"'Mione?"

He heard footsteps drawing closer. "Mr. Potter don't try to move," said Madame Pomfrey. "You've been burned very badly and if you move you are going to have a very nasty scar for the rest of your days."

Harry tried to relax, but he was scared. "Hermione?"

"Lay underneath dear, while I change his bandages. It will distract him."

In a few seconds he saw a Hermione-shaped head beneath him. She was all but a blur as he didn't have his glasses on.

"Oh, Harry. How do you feel?"

He closed his eyes and felt has she caressed his face with the tips of her fingers.

Harry thought about it for a moment. "Actually I don't feel much of anything on my back and neck."

"That will be the topical nerve blocker I administered, Mr. Potter. Just try to relax while I change your bandages please."

"Hermione," he whispered. he watched as her face came closer and better in focus. "How bad is it?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen" she whispered back.

"Go look."

He watched as her figure disappeared. It wasn't a second before he heard her gasp and Madame Pomfrey's voice chiding her. "Miss Granger that is not how one behaves in the Hospital Wing, and here, put this over your mouth."

"Harry wants to know how bad his injuries are."

There was a long and definite pause and then some whispering that he couldn't overhear. Finally Hermione returned.

"She said you'll be fine in a couple of days, Harry."

He wasn't convinced. "Hermione?"

"Yes?"

Harry could hear the tone in her voice. She was hiding something.

"Come closer. I can't see you very well."

She neared and he could make out her features almost normal. Her eyes were red and tears were streaming down either side of her face. "Harry, you're going to be okay, alright?"

She was saved by the sound of the doors opening and footsteps approaching.

"Stay back."

"Poppy, I must speak with Harry."

Dumbledore. Harry was sure he heard someone else there.

"Here, put this over your mouth. You too, Remus."

They closed to the table and Harry heard Remus suck in his breath. Madame Pomfrey let her ire be known. "Is there anyone in this world that has a certain amount of tact in regard to patient etiquette?"

Dumbledore stepped around to the front of the table and conjured a chair and a mirror so that he could see Harry's face without stooping.

"Harry, how do you feel?"

"I don't feel anything, Sir."

Harry saw the blurred image nod. "Good. I have heard Misters Weasley, Longbottom, Malfoy, and Miss Parkinson's version of what happened. Will you share yours?"

"In a nutshell, Sir? Malfoy was goofing off and not paying attention to what he was doing, spilled his pus, knocked over the Neptunian, and generally being a pain in the arse." Harry paused. "Pansy slipped and got puss all over her shoe and panicked. I took it off and Malfoy yelled something about me grabbing his girlfriend as he stuck his glove, which was coated in pus, down my shirt ... Sir."

Dumbledore didn't miss a beat. "This is very important, Harry. Do you believe that he did so on purpose?"

Harry paused and swallowed. "I -- I don't know. I wasn't looking at him at the time."

"Thank you, Harry. Get some rest." He stood and the chair vanished. "Remus."

Lupin took a couple of steps. "I'll be back in a little bit, Harry."

The door closed and Hermione returned. "Professor Lupin is furious."

"Good." Harry blinked. "Maybe he'll bite Malfoy."

Hermione didn't laugh.

"There, all done." Pomfrey said. "Miss Granger, make sure he drinks all three of these potions. Every last drop, do you understand?"

She handed Hermione three different glasses with straws. "Yes, Ma'am."

Harry took the straw of the proffered first one and sucked the fluid into his mouth. After the first taste he almost spit it back out. "Tell me all three of them aren't the same."

Hermione smiled sweetly, he thought. "This one is for muscle regeneration, the next one is for skin regeneration and the last one is a sleeping draught."

He took another sip. "Muscle?"

"Neptunian pus works very quickly on human skin. If Neville and Professor Sprout didn't act as fast as they did the pus might have made it to your lungs."

"And?" asked Harry very quietly.

She set the glass on the ground and covered her mouth with both hands in a very heartening attempt not to cry. "You could have ... died, Harry."

He swallowed the bitter taste still in his mouth. "I'm not going anywhere, Hermione."

The doors slammed open and footsteps neared in rapid succession. "Oh, my baby!"

Hermione wiped away at her face and held the straw back up to his lips. "Drink."

Harry felt someone grasp his hand tightly. "Hermione, is he awake?" his mother asked.

Harry spat the straw out and then saw his mom and Sirius on either side of the bed, crouching down. Sirius looked like he was going to explode, his mother, like she was going to break down.

"Harry, baby, are you alright?"

He attempted a smile which was somewhat difficult with his face strapped to the bed. "Madam Pomfrey said I'll be okay in a couple of days."

He sipped again at the straw finishing the first potion, thank Merlin.

"I'll be back, Lily. I'm going to find out what's being done about this little shit-spawn of Malfoy's."

She only nodded at Sirius' harsh language which probably meant that she agreed a hundred percent about his description. Harry felt his mother's hand running through his hair in a soothing motion as he drank the second potion which was only mildly disgusting.

"Thank you for being here for him, Hermione," said Lily.

Harry spit out the straw. "She's always been there for me, Mum. That's one of the reasons I love her."

Hermione gasped and nearly dropped the glass. The door opened again and he heard Ron's voice this time. "Mrs. Black, Professor Dumbledore needs you. "

"Tell him I'm busy, Ron."

"Um ... It's Mr. Black. He's trying to get at Malfoy. He's really, really mad."

"Damn it," she cursed. "I'll be right back, Harry."

Before Ron could get there Hermione leaned in. "You love me, huh?"

Harry didn't even pause. "'Course I do. You're my girl."

She reached up and kissed him lightly on the lips. "And you're my guy."

"Hey, mate, Hermione." Ron bent down. "You should see Sirius. He's going ballistic on Malfoy. Said he was going to shove him back where he came from, up his father's arse."

Harry chuckled and then winced. "Don't make me laugh, it hurts."

Hermione interceded. "Finish your potions, Harry. Ron, he needs to get some sleep."

"Right. Well, I guess I'll be back later then."

Harry sucked on his straw and finished the second potion. "Does this mess up our plans for the weekends?"

Hermione shook her head and lifted the Sleeping Draught to his lips. "Not at all. You're supposed to get out of here on Saturday. Now drink up and get some sleep."

She shoved the third straw at his mouth, and before he was halfway through with the potion he was fast asleep.

~*~

"Poppy, you can kiss my Black Family Buttocks if you think I'm leaving Harry alone until I can speak to him."

Harry's vision cleared and the visage of Sirius Black, looking angry, still.

"Sirius Black, you will not speak to me in such a fashion. It wasn't that long ago I was removing hexes left and right from your unmentionables that were placed there by your reluctant one-night-stands." She said reproachfully. "You still owe me for not informing Dumbledore about your extra-curricular activities during your seventh year."

Sirius looked properly chastised.

"Hexes?" Harry asked to their surprise.

Their faces turned and Sirius frowned. "You didn't hear that, Harry. Your mother would tan my hide if she knew I was out catting around on her best friend."

Harry almost laughed. "You dated Mum's best friend."

Sirius shrugged. "It was seventh year. Everyone was supposed to be getting serious about their lives ..." Then he realized what he was saying. "Who cares about my sex life? How do you feel, Harry?"

It wasn't until then that he noticed he was sitting up properly in bed ... or at least propped up comfortably.

"Feel kind of twitchy."

Madam Pomfrey looked satisfied that Harry wasn't in any pain. "That'll be your muscles healing. Watch what you're holding in that left hand of yours for the next week until they get toned back up. Reformed muscles have a tendency to spasm at first on occasion."

Sirius grinned with a little mirth. "Maybe you can get a special someone to massage you through it, eh?"

Madam Pomfrey smacked him on the back of the head. "Don't put any of your perverted ideas into his head, Sirius Black."

He tried to look as innocent as the driven snow. "Poppy, you know you're the only person I want to share my perverted ideas with."

She rolled her eyes and hid a embarrassed smile then scurried off before he could taunt her any further.

"Where's Mum?"

Sirius straightened himself up. "She having lunch. First time she's been away from your bedside since she pulled me off of that little turd, Malfoy."

Harry remembered Dumbledore's visit. "So, did he get a month's detention in the Hippogriff stalls?" he asked hopefully.

His stepfather grinned from ear to ear. "Snapped his wand in half and sent him packing."

Harry almost hopped out of bed, but instead leaned forward suddenly and regretted it at once. His back muscles screamed in response to the sudden movement and his shoulder and arm jerked spasmodically. Sirius pushed him back into the pillows.

"Don't move so fast next time," he warned.

Harry grimaced at the pain but still got his question asked. "Dumbledore kicked him out?"

Sirius nodded. "Reluctantly. It was either that or have half of his staff quit."

"What?"

"Pomfrey, Sprout, Flitwick and Remus all threatened to walk if Malfoy spent another night at Hogwarts, but I don't think that's what finished him off."

Harry was curious. "Then what?"

"The stupid little git didn't even have the sense to fake being remorseful." He paused. "He was only mad about being blamed for 'saving his girlfriend from your unwanted advances.'"

Harry almost laughed. "Like I have a thing for Pansy Parkinson?"

Sirius nodded over to the bedside table and the stack of sweets, flowers, and well wishes. "She dropped off the flowers about thirty minutes ago. Skipped her lunch to do it too."

Harry eyed the exotic arrangement. "You're joking."

He held up his hand. "I swear by the Marauders Code."

Sirius only received a questioning look. "Oh, I keep forgetting, you don't know certain things. It means I wouldn't lie to my brother."

"I'm not your brother, Sirius."

"You're James' son. That's close enough for me."

He looked back at the flowers. "Better get rid of them before Hermione sees."

Sirius laughed. "Just tell her your mum brought them."

"Good idea."

11. Past Alliances

Chapter Eleven

Past Alliances

By Sunday, Harry was finally out of bed and the Hospital Wing with strict instructions to take it easy for the next week. He didn't argue. His back was still aching, feeling like he'd been bent over a broom for far too long, but it was tolerable, and he wasn't about to tell Madam Pomfrey any different for fear that she'd keep him strapped to the bed, in her tender mercies.

His mother and Sirius had left the night before with promises given by Harry to keep them updated on anything else that Slytherin House might do in retribution for losing their Seeker. Harry was quite sure that Snape would have something to say about the matter and he also had the sinking feeling that a few hundred points would be finding their way from the Gryffindor hourglass to their archrival's for some reason or another.

Walking nice and slow through the halls seemed to give Harry time to stretch out some tight muscles that had accumulated over the last couple of days. The only thing he knew for sure was that he was ready for a normal breakfast and done with the 'hospital-gruel' that Pomfrey loved to serve. His stomach grumbled in response before he reached the doors to the Great Hall.

The tables were only half full as weekend breakfast was normally extended an extra thirty minutes to allow for late sleepers. He did however notice Ron and Hermione and acknowledged his entrance.

Hermione bounded from her seat and met him with a brief hug and a kiss on the cheek. "How are you feeling, Harry?"

He looked happy to see his girlfriend. "Still a little sore I guess, but I wanted to get out of that place and eat some real food."

She grinned and took his hand. "Well then, come on."

Hermione escorted him over to the table and made sure he was able to sit down properly before she took her seat and started to pile eggs and toast onto his plate.

Harry sniggled, "I'm sore, Hermione, not crippled."

She rolled her eyes at him. "You shouldn't overexert yourself, Harry. And I don't mind."

He leaned over and kissed her cheek in response, wincing a little in the process.

"See, you're not fully healed," she remarked. "Are you sure you don't want to spend another day in the Hospital Wing?"

Ron interjected his opinion. "No, he doesn't, Mum, but thanks for asking."

Hermione responded with a rude gesture, which Harry was sure was an accident because she had never done so before. Perhaps it was the way her hand was positioned on the fork she was holding. Ron just laughed it away.

"When are you going to schedule tryouts, mate?"

Harry paused with his fork dropping pieces of egg on the way to his mouth. "Tryouts?"

Ron gave him a confused smile. "Quidditch ... don't tell me you didn't have Quidditch before ..."

Hermione looked at her boyfriend who was returning her amazed face with one of his own.

"Um ... yeah, but you're Gryffindor Captain."

"Bloody hell!"

"Ron!" admonished Hermione.

Needless to say Ron was shocked that he would be considered for the position of Captain let alone actually make the cut. Harry knew how much it meant to his friend and couldn't understand how or why he himself, with all of his duties this year, would be appointed.

"Ron, I can't."

His friend was still basking in fantasized glory, but snapped out of it for a moment. "Can't what?"

"I can't be Quidditch Captain." He hesitated of moment. "With all of the school involved with the D.A. and my studies ... I don't have enough time. The team would suffer."

Ron's eyes widened further. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

He shrugged. "We'll have to pass it by McGonagall first, but yeah."

They both looked up to the teacher's table and Harry got up. "I'll go ask."

After getting her alone in the antechamber behind the teacher's table and explaining to her the problem he would have, McGonagall considered.

"I don't think I have ever heard of someone turning down the Captain's position before. Are you sure about this, Potter?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

She looked skeptical. "And Weasley's already agreed to this, I assume?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Well then, Potter, consider Weasley your Captain. I trust you will inform him of the change."

"Yes, Ma'am. Thanks."

Harry ran back to the table with a thumbs up for his friend. When he sat back down Ron leaned over. "Thanks, mate."

"Ron, you're the one doing me a favor."

After Hermione finished she excused herself to the library followed by Ron to their rooms to get the Quidditch playbook from Harry's trunk and post the day and time for tryouts.

Harry finished off the last of his third plate and sighed in contentment before heading to Gryffindor Tower to catch up on his homework when a closet door opened at the head of the stairs on the seventh floor and a hand snaked out to grab him.

He yelped and winced at the pain in his back before he got a look at who the culprit was.

"Pansy?"

"Oh, Harry," she threw her arms around him. "I was so worried after what that arsehole of a human being did to you. Are you okay?"

Harry was seriously freaked out by what, of all people, Pansy Parkinson was doing, hanging on him.

"Um ... Pansy."

She pulled on his shoulder. "Turn around I want to see your back. Take off your shirt. Here, I'll help."

She was almost his height and easily wrapped her arms around from his back and started undoing the buttons to his shirt.

"Pansy ... wait."

The self-titled princess of Slytherin House pressed her lips to his neck and slid her hands down his front to his belt and tried to unstrap him before he turned back around.

"Pansy, wait!"

Her eyes were smoky and heated. "Oh you poor dear, I'm sorry. You probably aren't up to going at it like this, so soon after your ordeal. How about if I just slide down here and taste the road." She giggled. "I mean test the road."

Harry grabbed her arms before she got too low. "Pansy, stop!"

She halted her affections and seemed to snap out of it. "That stuff didn't get all the way down there, did it?" she said in horror. "I'll kill Malfoy."

"What are you doing?" demanded Harry.

Pansy's head snapped back. "What do you mean, lover?"

"Lover?" gasped Harry.

A look of horror came over her face. "Did that goo affect your brain too? Harry? No ..."

A quick thought came to his head. "Um ... yeah. Madame Pomfrey told me that it might happen. Selective ambrosia or something."

"Amnesia?"

He edged away slightly. "Yeah, that's it. Maybe you ought to fill me in on what's been happening."

She covered her mouth with one hand in shock. "You don't remember the last year, Harry? Nothing?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Guess not ... um ... I mean ... we?"

She nodded and her eyes dropped. "Amnesia."

His hand fell on the doorknob. "Yeah ... well, I guess I better be going.

She grabbed his arm. "Wait. They say the best thing for amnesia is to do things that are familiar."

Pansy started unbuttoning her blouse.

Harry was to stunned to do anything but stare. "Erm ..."

"We'll do everything that you liked."

He felt his ears burning. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Pansy. I should really be ..."

He didn't have a chance to finish before her lips were on his and her breasts were pushing into him. They thumped onto the door and Harry groaned. Pansy's hands were all over him especially in certain areas. He couldn't take anymore and pushed her back.

"Pansy I really think ..."

"Harry, I'll let you spank me."

His jaw dropped open. WHAT?

She turned around and hiked up her skirt, bending over on one of the shelves in the supply closet. He slapped a hand over his eyes, but was too late in seeing she wasn't wearing any knickers.

"Pansy, I have to go. We'll talk later, okay."

Before she had a chance to say anything Harry bolted out the door and almost ran into Ron coming out of the portrait hole.

"Hey, Harry. Listen ..." He stopped ant pointed at him. "Why is your shirt unbuttoned?"

Harry pushed him back in the portrait hole and closed it behind him as he almost jumped though himself.

"What's going on?" asked a very concerned Ron.

After a quick look around to make sure the coast was clear. "Ron, was I cheating on Hermione?"

"Uh oh."

"Uh oh? Did you forget to tell me something, Ron?"

Harry could tell by the look on his friend's face that indeed, he had forgotten to tell Harry about his little indiscretions.

"Pansy Parkinson just jumped on me in the supply closet!"

"Uh yeah ... see, about that."

"Pansy Parkinson, Ron!" Harry almost yelled. "She wanted me to spank her, of all things."

Ron audibly gulped.

"And she wasn't wearing any knickers, like we do this all the time or something," he hissed.

The redhead winced. "Sorry, Harry, but you kinda do."

This time he really did yell. "What? Are you insane?"

He seemed to take offence at that. "No, you are ... or you were." He took Harry by the shoulders. "Look Harry, Pansy wasn't the only one."

This deflated his anger. "Oh my god. Poor Hermione."

"Sorry to tell ya mate, but I think she knew about it. Maybe not about all the girls you had, but she knew you were cheating on her."

Harry looked up. "She told you?"

Ron shook his head. "No, I could just tell when you've skive off your studies and head out to practice Quidditch by yourself. I could see it on her face. She never said anything because she didn't want to lose you or something. Thought she wouldn't get anyone else to like her."

"That's mad!"

"What's mad?"

Harry almost jumped out of his pants right there when Hermione emerged out of the portrait hole behind him.

He took her in his arms. "I've been an ass, Hermione, or my other self has."

She pulled away looking goofily at him. "What are you talking about, Harry?"

Harry rubbed his eyes underneath his glasses. "My other self, before we changed things ..."

Hermione frowned. "What about him?"

He took a deep breath. "He was cheating on you."

That took her unaware and she blinked. "Huh?"

"With Pansy Parkinson."

"You're serious," she said matter-of-factly.

Harry nodded and shook his head, waiting for the inevitable slap in the face.

"Well that explains Neville," she said.

"Huh?" he replied.

She brushed past him and headed over to her usual armchair by the fireplace. "Neville just pulled me into the closet and tried to snog me to death."

"Neville," laughed Ron.

Harry gave him a scathing look.

Hermione nodded. "He was blathering on about you stealing Ginny away from him, and wanting to get even. I slapped him and walked out the door."

That wiped the smile from Ron's face. "Ginny!"

He looked at Harry like he was going to kill him.

"Ron, it wasn't me. I've never cheated on Hermione. And I've never even looked at Ginny in that way."

He still looked indignant at Harry. "And what exactly is wrong with Ginny?"

Harry dropped himself into an armchair. "Quit being a prat, Ron."

So how did you get out of it with Pansy," Hermione asked.

"I told her side effect of the goo was selective ambrosia."

"Amnesia," she corrected.

"Whatever."

Ron laughed. "Good one."

"How many did I have, Ron?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "How should I know? I mean it's obvious I didn't know about all of them."

Harry grit his teeth. "How many did you know about?"

Ron seem to think for a moment. "Well there was Cho Chang, Hannah Abbot, Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson ..."

With each name Harry became paler and paler.

"... Lavender Brown, Susan Bones, Padma and Parvati Patel ..."

Hermione interrupted. "What, both of them together?"

Ron looked over. "At the same time."

"I'm getting you neutered," she told Harry. "It's Sirius' influence you know."

"Huh?"

She looked smugly into her book. "I bet he filled your head with all sorts of demented sexual things as you were growing up."

He thought on it and absently nodded. "Probably." The whole conversation was making him uncomfortable. "I think I'm gonna go fly around the Quidditch pitch for a bit."

Ron gave him a knowing look.

"I mean really fly. I have to work the kinks out of my back."

"And your head," commented Hermione.

"Funny."

She smiled at him. "Just trying to help."

He retrieved his Firebolt from the room and waved on the way out the portrait hole. He steered clear of the supply closet, just in case. However, what he should have done was avoided the locker room and went through the main entrance.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

He felt his legs snap together and his arms whip to his sides before he fell forward. Someone caught him before he hit the floor and cushioned the blow. A light sound of giggling lit the air.

"I got you this time, Harry."

The fiery hair of Ginny Weasley came into view as she bent over the body of her victim. Her lips brushed against his and her tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip.

"Remember how much you teased me in this exact same position last June?" Her smile was so evil as her tongue again flicked out against his lips. "Payback is so much more fun."

He watched helplessly as she magically locked the door and started to loosen her blouse as she returned, walking more seductively that Harry had ever seen her move before.

"Ron would kill you if he knew how much I want you right now." She walked around his body. "I did that thing you suggested. Can you see from there?"

She walked past his head and her skirt brushed her hips rising up just enough to tease him with forbidden flesh.

"Harry, it's no fun if you close your eyes. I can't tell if you enjoy the view or not." After a brief pause. "Oh ... I guess there's another way, isn't there."

He snapped his eyes back open when he felt the pressure of her body straddling his midsection.

"Oh, yeah. I think you're enjoying the view."

Her smile turned to a frown. "I thought this was going to be more fun, with you helpless and all, but I think I like it better when you are making me feel helpless."

There was a noise at the door and her head swung around to hear muffled voices. "Someone's locked the bloody door." And then louder. "Who's in there? Come on, open up!"

"Bugger," cursed Ginny. "Oh well, maybe next time, Harry."

She ran to the field door and turned around at the last second. "Finite Incantatum!"

"Bye lover," she whispered.

Harry sat up immediately. "This can't be happening."

Grabbing his fallen Firebolt he dashed out of the door from which Ginny made her escape.

****************************

"I'm not going anywhere ever again without one of you along," said Harry. "What is it about the girls this time around?

Ron chuckled. "Who was it this time?"

"You don't want to know."

Hermione turn a page leisurely. "Ginny."

Ron's shoulders tightened and his lips thinned in sudden anger. "What did she do?"

Harry closed his eyes and shook his head in exhaustion. "You really, really don't want to know Ron. Let's just say that we were interrupted and she didn't have a chance to do anything ... well not much of anything."

He watched his girlfriend and her apparent lack of interest.

"Hermione ... of all people I thought you'd be the most upset."

She didn't give it a second thought. "I'm not," she said simply. "You're very aware of the number of hexes I can perform, and what I would do if you ever voluntarily cheated on me."

A shudder ran up his spine, which at any other time would have been chilling, but this instance it was only painful. "Vol - voluntarily?"

She looked up. "Well if Ginny were to say, put you in a Full Body Bind and have her way with you, there's not much you could do about it."

Harry's eyes widened and he deftly wondered if she had somehow known what had happened down at the Quidditch locker room.

"And with you being sixteen and all the male hormones running amok in your bloodstream I know you wouldn't be able to control your ... reaction to certain external stimuli."

"Erm ..."

"I trust you, Harry, and I'm sure Ron does too. Right Ron?"

The redhead's eyes darted back and forth at the implication that his baby sister was throwing herself at his best friend, but he was interrupted by someone coming through the portrait hole. Ginny. He turned to Harry and Hermione.

"Look I'll trust you if you tell Ginny everything. I don't want her acting the tart, even if it is with my best friend."

He didn't even give them a chance to say if they would. "Oi, Ginny. Get over here."

She stopped in place and looked back and forth between Harry and Ron, most probably thinking if the boy she almost shagged had just spilled the Bowtruckles. "What?"

Ron waved her over. "Harry and Hermione have something they want to tell you. Come on."

She moved slowly closer, seemingly ready to bolt if the occasion called for it. "What is it, then?"

Ginny gripped back of Ron's armchair, staying clear of any grabby hands that might want to ... grab her.

Harry looked to his girlfriend for some kind of support or encouragement. All he received was a polite smile and her returning to her studies.

"Um ... Ginny ... have you ever heard of a Time Turner? ...

**************************

"You expect me to believe this?"

Ron ushered him on. "Show her the scar. "

Harry lifted his bangs.

Ginny moved around the chair and closed on him laying her fingers on the lightening-bolt scar. "Where did you get this?"

"Hands off my boyfriend, please."

Ginny snatched her hand back as if she'd been burned and looked at Hermione with fear.

Hermione flipped another page and then looked up to meet her eyes. "What went on between you and Harry before last week is in the past. Touch him again in a sexual way and I'll make sure you'll regret it."

"Me too," replied Ron with conviction.

Ginny's notorious temper was the same in both time periods, unpredictable and vindictive. "You aren't enough to satisfy him. No girl is. You can't have him to yourself."

"Yes ... she can," replied Harry.

She turned back to him. "She won't do the things you like, Harry. You told me yourself."

"Ginny, how many different ways do I have to prove it to you. I'm not the same Harry Potter that you've know for the last five years. I love Hermione, and I won't be cheating on her."

She backed away shaking her head. "We've all known you loved her, Harry. Even she knew she couldn't please you like you needed. She knew, Harry, and she encouraged it."

Ginny turned and ran up the stairs