AN- Hello, Ladies, Gentlemen and everyone else. Welcome to another chapter. Please keep your hands and feet inside at all times and keep your eyes glued to your computer screen. The author accepts NO responsibility for any feelings of vertigo, nausea or mirth. Any injuries sustained such as cracking up should be taken care of by a trained health care specialist and not mentioned to the author as he will likely respond in a random and insensible manner.
'O_o
H/H FOREVER!
Bye!
Shades of Grey
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Ron scowled in exasperation for a moment then gave in.
"Ahg! Fine, so what does the bloody mirror do, oh mighty all-knowing Hermione?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Think about it, Ron." She answered, rolling her eyes. "Everything we saw made us, or at least the images of us, very happy didn't it? It can't be showing us our futures because then Harry couldn't have seen his parents."
Ron frowned, his brows creasing in concentration, looking as if he had almost figured it out then lost it again.
"I still don't get it, Hermione." He admitted sheepishly.
"I don't get it either." Harry added. "It shows us when we're happy? Or what would make us happy or something?"
"Exactly Harry." Said Hermione. "I'm pretty sure it shows us whatever would make us most happy. Look at the writing."
"You mean Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi?" Ron asked, trying to pronounce the odd words.
"I wonder what language it's in? I know the characters are from the basic Latin alphabet, but I don't recognize any of the words." Harry thought aloud as he turned to examine the letters on the frame.
"English." Hermione answered once she had gotten over her surprise at Harry's knowledge of languages and writing, looking quite satisfied with herself.
Ron and Harry turned to her with amusingly identical looks of disbelief.
"English? Are you daft?" asked Ron, seeming more than a little sceptical. "I can hardly even say most of those words!"
Hermione only smirked at the other two and said, "Read it backwards."
By this point Ron and Harry were well past being merely confused, but they both knew better than to argue with Hermione when she was in her lecturing mode. It just wasn't conducive to maintaining your health or at the very least your sanity.
Once more they turned to the mirror and studied the carvings mumbling to their selves. They soon realised what the writing on the mirror was supposed to say.
"I show not your face but your hearts desire." Ron recited to Hermione's beaming approval. "But why would it be backwards?"
"Because it's a mirror, Ron." Harry answered slowly. He grinned a little as it dawned on him and Hermione nodded her approval. "When you look in a mirror you see everything backwards."
"Well, now we know what the mirror does." Ron stated, "I suppose that's one mystery down and one to go."
Harry nodded his agreement.
Finally it was Hermione's turn to be confused.
"What's the other one?" she asked.
"Well if all the mirror does, is to show you whatever you want most, then why was it put here?" Ron asked. "According to Harry, it was only put here recently and the fact that it was made to look as if it had always been here would suggest that SOMEONE doesn't want it to be noticed."
Hermione opened her mouth to respond when there was a sudden rumbling growl.
Harry and Hermione nearly jumped out of their skin and looked frantically towards the source of the noise. Ron smiled sheepishly back at them.
"Why don't we see if we can still get some food?" he asked rubbing his stomach.
Hermione smiled and Harry actually gave a small laugh, earning him an odd look from his friends.
"What?" he asked.
Hermione smiled and shook her head ruefully.
"You don't laugh nearly enough, mate." Ron answered. "In fact I can't even remember having heard you laugh before. Anywho, lets go. I'm starving."
Ron's stomach backed up his statement with another frighteningly loud growl.
¿ <'}}}><
They ended up missing lunch, but Ron made sure to make up for it during dinner. The rest of the day was spent trying to think of any reason someone could have for wanting to hide such an odd mirror. Hermione insisted on dragging them all to the library to look for any mention of the mirror in books about magical artefacts, but they didn't find anything about the mirror. They didn't find anything conclusive to suggest what the mirrors purpose might be, partly because Harry kept getting lost in his thoughts.
He was trying to decide why seeing his parents in the mirror had scared him so much the first time, and had been upsetting the second. He didn't really understand. If the mirror was showing him what he wanted most - then why would seeing it be upsetting? He decided that he was out of his depth and chose to forget about it for a while. Maybe he would ask Hermione about it later. He wouldn't feel comfortable talking to Ron about it and he didn't think that Ron was likely to be much help. Harry knew though that both his friends wanted him to talk to them about things like this. Harry just wasn't used to having people around who wanted to know how he felt. Certainly the Dursleys had never shown any interest in his feelings, with the possible exception of Dudley who liked to know that he was in fact causing Harry pain of some sort. Talking about his feelings, even with friends as great as Hermione and Ron went against all his experience up until he arrived at Hogwarts.
After exhausting all the possibilities the trio decided to forget about the mirror until something new came up. After all they all still had their potions homework to do. Even Hermione had put off doing hers which Ron was quite happy to hear. He had hardly even looked at his potions assignment and even if Hermione and Harry refused to let him copy what they wrote it still saved him a lot of research by simply using whichever books Hermione suggested to Harry and him.
¿ <'}}}><
A couple of days later Harry was wandering around for a bit, having slipped out of the common room by himself during one of Ron and Hermione's more - intense arguments. He'd be worried about their blood pressure if they were any older.
As he passed the door to McGonagall's office he fingered the sheath on his arm, thinking back to the day that she'd asked Nearly Headless Nick to send Harry from the common room to speak with her.
******FLASHBACK******
Harry knocked on the door to McGonagall's office. The faint scratching of a quill on Parchment stopped and Harry heard some papers shuffled before his professor answered.
"Come in." she said.
Harry opened the door stepped into Professor McGonagall's office. Other than a couple cabinets, her office lacked anything in the way of furnishings other than the desk which she was currently sitting behind.
"You wanted to speak to me?" he asked. He was fairly sure he knew why, but would rather have McGonagall be the one to bring it up than to mention her concerns regarding his knife himself.
McGonagall nodded and motioned for Harry to close the door.
"Have a seat, Mr. Potter." She said.
Harry closed the door and was about to point out that there was no chair, when McGonagall waved her wand at the floor in front of her desk and part of the floor seemed to grow upwards and quickly turned into a simple wooden chair. Harry chastised himself mentally for forgetting McGonagall's mastery of transfiguration. Of course this also explained her lack of furniture. What use would she have of such things when her skill in her field allowed her to create what she needed from nearly anything on hand?
He sat down quickly. He knew that McGonagall was still quite against him being allowed to carry a knife around the school with him and he started a calming breathing exercise to mentally prepare himself to argue his case as best he could. He might have already been given Dumbledore's permission to have the knife, but the headmaster had made it clear that Harry would still need to convince his head of house that the knife would not cause any harm, whether or not the harm was intentional.
"I am sure that you already know why I asked to speak with you, Mr. Potter, but let me make it perfectly clear." McGonagall began in her usual lecturing tone. "I am concerned with the fact that you carry a weapon with you. I do not at all doubt that you have no intention of using it for anything less than an absolute emergency as you did on Halloween, but accidents do happen. I understand that you have been carrying it with you since the beginning of the year, and the fact that there were no problems in all that time does reassure me somewhat, but nonetheless I remain concerned. Now, the headmaster has told me that he does not believe there is any reason to take the knife from you, but he suggested that I speak to you about my - misgivings anyway."
She paused to give Harry a look.
"I understand, Professor, but I assure you that you have no reason to be worried. I agree that there is a chance that an accident could occur, but then there is also a chance that someone could be hurt from something as simple as falling down the stairs. Even more of a chance when you think about things such as trick steps and the fact that the staircases sometimes move around unexpectedly and without warning." Harry reasoned. "I assure you that the chance that someone could be hurt because I'm carrying my knife is far less than the chance that they could fall down the stairs."
"I know that you believe what you're saying, Mr. Potter," McGonagall sighed, "but can you give me a reason to believe you? Why do you think that there would be little risk in you carrying a weapon as opposed to any other student?"
Harry let out a deep breath. How could he convince her? He didn't believe that what he was saying was true, he knew that it was true.
"I suppose - "Harry paused, then shook his head and started again. " No, I know that there is less risk of an accident if I carry a weapon than if someone else did because I know how to handle it, and use it, whereas others probably don't."
McGonagall frowned at him in confusion.
"I'm afraid I don't understand." She admitted. "How - Why do you know 'how to handle it'? And what do you mean by that?"
Now it was Harry's turn to be confused. Dumbledore must have told her what Harry had told him in the hospital wing. She was, after all, the deputy headmistress.
"Uh, didn't Professor Dumbledore tell you about it?" Harry asked.
"No, he did not." McGonagall answered, folding her hands in front of her.
Harry could tell that she was a little miffed at the headmaster for that.
"He said that it was your choice whether or not to tell me about it, as it seemed to be a bit personal." Explained the professor.
Harry felt a rush of appreciation towards the headmaster for this. It wasn't that he didn't want McGonagall to know anything about his knife, but never before had any grownup other than his sensei let him decide for himself whether to answer a question or not. At the Dursleys he always had to do exactly as he was told 'or else', it felt great to be shown such respect and… trust from someone like Dumbledore.
Harry snapped back to reality as he realised that McGonagall was still waiting for a response from him.
< Well, she is my head of house,> Harry thought to himself. < I suppose she can't really use anything I tell her against me...>
"Well, I don't really know how to explain what I mean by 'handling it', but I was taught how to use it by my sensei Mr Osakawa, - he's my martial arts instructor…" Harry trailed off as he could tell that his explanation was only causing further confusion. "Uh, do you know what I'm talking about?"
McGonagall shook her head.
"I can only assume that you're talking about some type of muggle thing?" she asked, and smiled at him a little. "Muggle studies was never my best class."
Harry was shocked that she would say something like that to a student. It just didn't seem to fit her manner, and she looked a little surprised at it herself, but he went on anyway.
"Well, sensei basically means 'teacher', and martial arts are different styles of muggle fighting." He told her feeling rather odd to be teaching his teacher about something. "It's sort of like a sport, maybe like duelling is for wizards? Sorry, I'm not very good at explaining things…"
McGonagall sighed.
"Perhaps we should start over. What exactly does your - 'sensei' teach you about these martial arts?"
"Well generally most martial arts focus on discipline a lot." Harry began. "Of both the mind and the body."
Harry went on to explain as much as he could about martial arts in general and found himself enjoying talking about something he was interested in. He began to understand why McGonagall was Hermione's favourite professor. She listened to what Harry had to say and asked intelligent questions even though it was obvious that it was hard to understand for someone who'd grown up only in the magical world, where there was apparently nothing like martial arts, duelling being the closest comparison.
"So muggles hit each other with their hands and feet in order to hurt each other?" McGonagall asked looking a little perplexed. "I can't see how there could be many different 'styles'. After all, how many different ways can there be to hit someone?"
Harry shook his head.
"Martial arts are like DADA." Explained Harry. "The purpose of learning them is self-defence and self-discipline, but they can be used aggressively the same as the magic we learn in DADA can. And as we learn different kinds of spells to deal with a situation, you can learn different ways to - move, I guess, in a fight."
"I'll have to take your word on that I suppose. Right now we're getting a bit off track." McGonagall sighed. "What you're saying is that your teacher taught you how to use this knife to… attack people?"
Harry sighed. He didn't seem to be doing very well at convincing McGonagall to let him keep his knife.
"Yes, I do know how to attack people with the knife," he said, " but in order to do that I also have to know how not to hurt people with it. You have to be able to control a weapon, whether magical or muggle, in order to use it."
McGonagall looked thoughtful, and nodded at Harry's answer.
"Yes, I see. Doing any kind of magic requires control. If the caster is not properly in control of their magic they are as likely to hurt themselves with a curse as their target. I can understand it in terms of needing control of magic, I'm not sure about how you would control a piece of metal in the same manner though."
Harry was beginning to become exasperated by this point.
< I know that witches and wizards have been hiding in their magical world for a long time, but are they so submersed in magic that they don't even understand simple things if they're not in terms of magic?> he grumbled.
"Like this." He said, and he released his knife into his hand and held it up in front of him.
Making sure McGonagall was watching the knife Harry spun it around a bit, a move that was flashy but not useful in a fight. He kept it spinning, faster and faster, then tossed it to his other hand, still spinning. McGonagall's eyes had gotten wider and wider as he spun the blade and she had flinched when he tossed the knife, but her eyes never left the flashing point of the blade.
Harry sent the knife rippling across the backs of his knuckles, before tossing the knife back in the air and catching it by the blade in his right hand. Harry had never enjoyed learning that kind of thing as it seemed to be a pointless talent and not at all practical, but Osakawa-sensei had insisted it was a wonderful way to increase his dexterity and Harry had obediently practiced it until Osakawa-sensei was satisfied.
Harry couldn't remember his professor ever looking as surprised as she did just then and had to work to keep himself from smiling as she sat still for a moment after he stopped the knife.
Finally she looked up from the knife to Harry's face. Harry didn't know what reaction he'd expected, but it certainly wasn't the one he got.
She looked suspicious.
"How did you make it do that?" she asked slowly, her eyes narrowing.
Harry stared in disbelief. She thought he'd used magic to try and trick her! He could see it in her eyes.
He quickly got over his shock though.
< It was probably my fault for trying to be too fancy, but still… does she really think I know enough magic already to do something like that without her noticing what I was doing?>
Harry sighed, he shouldn't have let his frustration get the better of him like that.
"Watch," he said, taking the hilt of the knife once more. "I'll do it slower so you can see what I'm doing."
This time he spun the blade much slower, like Osakawa-sensei had done when he was teaching Harry.
When Harry finished his little performance, the suspicion had left McGonagall's eyes and she just looked a little amazed.
Satisfied that she no longer suspected a trick Harry told her, "As you can see there is no magic involved, yet in order for a muggle to use a muggle weapon effectively they still need to have nearly absolute control of it, and if they have such control over it in order to hurt someone then that same control will allow them to keep it from harming anyone. The point of practicing such things is to teach the body to work on it's own. I couldn't do all this if I had to think about each movement. Instead my muscles remember how to move and so I don't have to think about every little movement."
"Well, I can't imagine being able to do that myself, but I guess I can't argue that you don't know how to handle it without getting hurt." She admitted with reluctance. "But what about the other Gryffindors who don't know how to handle it? You can't have it with you all the time and someone that doesn't know how to use it might get a hold of it… where do you keep it anyway?"
"Right here." Harry said, pushing up his right sleeve. "See it fits in here."
Harry slid the knife back into its sheath as McGonagall watched curiously.
"Isn't it difficult to get out though?" she asked, "It looks like it's held pretty tightly."
"It is held tightly, but it was made so that when you flex the right muscles, and hold your hand properly, it falls out into your hand." He told her. "Like this."
Harry demonstrated a few times, bringing the knife out and sheathing again rapidly.
"The only times I take it off is when I shower and when I'm cleaning the sheath. Since I still have the knife with me when I clean the sheath the only time someone else could get a hold of it would be when I'm in the shower." He explained. "So there's really very little chance at all of anyone else even finding out that I have it. If they wanted a knife for some reason then it would make much more sense for them to just take one from potions class or from the Great Hall."
McGonagall frowned in thought for a while before finally sighing in defeat.
"Very well, you may continue to carry your knife with you for now, but you are not permitted to let anyone know other than Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley as they already aware of its existence. If I think you are abusing this privilege in any way then you will no longer be allowed to have it with you. Do you understand?"
"Yes, I do." Harry answered with relief. "May I go now?"
McGonagall hesitated a moment.
"Would you mind… could you spin it over your knuckles again?" she asked, not sounding at all like the stern professor Harry was used to.
The request surprised him, but he obliged her and sent it across his knuckles a couple times before putting it back in its sheath, McGonagall then thanked him and told him he could go.
As Harry pulled the door shut behind him he heard her murmur something.
"Without even using magic!"
Harry wondered again to himself why so many magical people thought that magic had to be the answer to everything.
¿ <'}}}><
The next few days of their holidays were put to the greatest use that the trio could, doing homework (for Hermione), playing chess (for Ron) and flying around the towers of the school on brooms (for Harry) though neither of the boys could convince Hermione to go further than six feet from the safety of solid ground.
Harry woke a bit later than usual the day after all the other students had returned from their holidays due to the fact that he'd been having so much fun just flying the day before that he'd gone on long after Ron and Hermione had landed and headed back in. Normally Harry got up at 3:00AM each day except for the days after he went to the library for his 'extra work', and went through his usual routine (he never skipped doing his meditation though, even the mornings after his library work). He usually only got five or six hours of sleep each night, but that was enough for him.
He was simply too tired on the mornings after he did his late night studies with Lady Scrive to complete his exercises properly . But Osakawa-sensei had always been quite adamant that Harry was to do them properly, no matter how slowly he had to move, or not do them at all. If he let his body move in the wrong way in practice then he would be much more likely to make a mistake when fighting an opponent, either in a tournament or in real life.
Fortunately it was Saturday and really, he could perform his exercises at any time (he had always thought of them more like a dance). He was a bit surprised to find that Ron had, for once, gotten up before him. He wondered, with a smile, what Ron had thought when he saw Harry sleeping when he got up. Ron was always grumbling at breakfast about how Harry couldn't be human. In Ron's eyes there was simply no such time as 5:00AM or earlier.
Harry put on the robes (sometimes called a gi) that he used to practice in and headed to the Quidditch pitch where he normally trained after his morning jog. The first few times that Harry had gone for his run he hadn't seen anyone else out running so he'd thought that everyone else was still getting settled in after their summer holidays. When he'd been allowed to go running at the Dursleys he'd always seen at least a few other people jogging in the mornings (none of the Dursleys though) and often in the evenings as well. As the school year progressed however, Harry found that the only other witch or wizard who got up for any kind of exercise was Oliver Wood, and he only got up to plan and practice Quidditch.
Harry just put it down to there being some other kind of exercise that only people who had grown up in the wizarding world knew about. After all, he'd yet to see any seriously obese witch or wizard, but he did wonder why there weren't any muggle born students out running though.
As Harry pondered this, he reached the outer doors of the school and passed through them. He soon realised that he would not be training on the pitch that day due to the large gathering of Slytherins who had come to watch their house team's practice. Not that he had anything against the Slytherins in general, but far too many of the Slytherins seemed to have something against the rest of the world.
As he stood in front of the giant doors several fourth year Hufflepuffs went past on their way to the greenhouses. Harry heard them giggle and saw them point at his clothes as they went. Fortunately Harry's cheeks were already red from the cold and hid his blush.
He was getting cold just standing outside without moving so he headed back inside to see if there might be an unused room big enough for him to work in.
Having nowhere else to go yet Harry started back to his common room trying to think if he knew of anyplace he could train or if there was anyone who did. As he walked he looked into any rooms he that he hadn't been in before, but most of them seemed to either be broom closets or required a password that he didn't have.
"Harry?!" Someone called from behind him.
Harry turned and saw Ron heading down the hallway, having apparently come from a late breakfast or, knowing his friend's appetite, possibly a second breakfast. He was grinning when he came up to Harry, and seemed to be fighting back gales of laughter.
"Harry, w-what are you doing those pyjamas?" he asked incredulously.
Harry frowned. "They're not pyjamas, Ron. These are the clothes I train in."
"Train in? How come I've never seen you wear them before?" Ron asked and scratched his head.
"Well, I expect that's because you've never seen me training, have you?"
Still confused Ron asked, "Sure I have! You and Hermione are always training! Honestly, I don't know why you two -"
"Not that kind of training, Ron." Harry interrupted.
"Then what kind of training are we talking about here?" Ron asked scratching his head.
"Remember I told you how I've been taking martial arts lessons?" Harry asked.
"Oh right! From Osarwa, or something?"
"From Osakawa-sensei. Well in order to be any good you need to practice as often as possible." Harry informed him. "Also you should be in as good shape as you can, which is why I go running each day before I train."
Ron scratched his head.
"So why haven't you been training before now?" he asked.
"I have," Harry frowned, "you probably just didn't realise it because I actually get up early to do it! Unlike some people who only get up just in time for a rushed breakfast and are almost always just in time for classes." This last statement was followed with a small smirk.
"Hey!" Ron protested, taking a playful swipe at his friend. "Hermione gets up early and she hasn't mentioned it!"
"Well, why would she?" Harry shrugged. "It's no big deal that I go running early in the morning."
"Well, leaving the castle is no big deal, but - you run around for no reason? I'd say that's pretty odd." Ron said with a look that plainly said that Harry was quite the puzzle to him.
Harry sighed once again at the ignorance of the inhabitants of the magical world towards muggles.
"I guess I'm just odd then, Ron. I'll explain later, ok?" he said in exasperation, "Right now I'm trying to find a room that got some open space for me to workout in. You wouldn't happen to have any ideas would you?"
"Nah, not a clue." Ron answered. "The only rooms I know are the ones we have classes in and you can't - do whatever in them. Maybe ask Hermione? And I'd bet anything that Fred and George would know a place if anyone would, though you might have to become their chizpurfle in return for any information."
Harry smirked. Ron was probably right about the twins, but their pranks rarely ever ended up being painful as they usually tested them on each other before actually putting them to use.
"So where's Hermione?" Harry asked, already suspecting the answer.
Ron's roll of his eyes was answer enough for him. Hermione was in the library.
Seeing that Harry understood, Ron didn't bother answering.
"I'm headed there now. I'm hoping she'll help me out a bit with that new charm we're supposed to practice." Ron told him.
"Okay, see you later, Ron. You're probably right." Harry answered, "If anyone knows a room for me to use, it'll be your brothers."
Harry walked on in search of the twins now.
¿ <'}}}><
The twins hadn't understood why Harry had wanted to find the kind of room he'd described but they hadn't really asked for much of an explanation anyway. Harry figured that they were just used to being so secretive themselves that they automatically assumed that everyone else was the same. So after being told what Harry was looking for they'd been obviously confused but hadn't asked questions and Harry hadn't offered answers.
The place that Fred (or was it George?) had suggested was an old classroom near the top of a long unused tower. The twins had found it in their first year. Even then they had been quite the pranksters, they had enjoyed telling Harry as they led him to the room, but they hadn't had much experience with hiding the preparations for their pranks. So when they happened across the room one on their way to a class ("You got lost didn't you?") they'd immediately made it their base of operations. Over the years though, the room had been of less use to them as their pranks evolved and they learned much better how to hide them. Also the room was to far out of the way and with no easy access it was just to much hassle to drag their pranks up and down the long staircase.
It wasn't an ideal place to train in, but there was plenty of light from the many windows that showed a view over the castle in every direction. Harry assumed that some of the windows were enchanted like the ceiling of the Great Hall because one of the windows should have looked into the room next door, which was filled with desks, chairs and very stale potions ingredients that the twins had forgotten, who knew how long ago.
What Harry liked the most about the room was the quiet. The entire tower was far from anywhere that was frequented by either staff or students and Harry relished the silence that allowed him to focus on his meditation and training exercises more than he ever could before, even at the dojo.
In fact Harry got so deeply into his exercise that he almost didn't hear the door open to admit Hermione and her ever present bag of books. Having paused to look towards her while in the middle of a high kick, Harry didn't realise just how funny he must look until Hermione unexpectedly broke out in unrestrained laughter.
Bringing both feet to the ground Harry turned to her fully and gave her a friendly glare.
"I'm so glad that I'm able to provide such amusement for you, Hermione," he said with mocking malice, "but would you care to tell me how you found this place? It's a bit out of the way."
"To put it mildly!" Hermione answered, after containing her laughter. "It's practically a hike just to get to this tower, much less up it! And Ron told me you were looking for a room your 'marital arts' and were going to ask Fred and George, so when I saw them on my way to the common room I asked if you'd talked to them and they told me where you were. I didn't expect it to be so far or I'd have dropped off my books before coming here."
Hermione looked for somewhere to put her books then settled for putting them on the floor in the corner when she saw there were no tables or desks.
"Where's Ron anyway?" Harry asked, "You didn't turn him into a toilet seat did you?"
Hermione chuckled appreciatively at the reminder of the time she'd threatened to do just that during an argument with Ron. It had startled Ron and Harry to hear Hermione suggest something like that, even though they knew that they wouldn't be able to do anything like that for quite some time.
"No, maybe next time. I left him in the library working on his spinning charm." She told him. "You know he's really very good at charms when he actually tries."
Harry nodded.
"So what brings you here?" Harry asked her.
"Oh, nothing really." She shrugged. "I just wanted some peace for a moment."
"But you said before that you asked the twins where I was, not where you could go to get some peace?" Harry countered.
"Yes, but everyone is usually pretty quiet when you're around." Hermione told him, then continued on before he could protest. "I know you don't understand it or like it or anything, but it's still true."
Harry sighed and acquiesced. There was no point in denying reality, but at least the students and staff at Hogwarts weren't as bad as the people at the Leaky Cauldron had been, and they were starting to get used to treating him like everyone else now.
"I won't be disturbing you will I, Harry?" Hermione asked as she sat down and paused while pulling out her homework. "I could leave if you want."
"No, you won't be disturbing me." Harry smiled. "Besides, I should be able to focus on what I'm doing regardless of distractions."
The two settled into their own little worlds as Hermione worked on complex potions formulae and Harry worked on complex martial arts.
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AN - Didn't get to make the major changes that I wanted to, just small ones. Sorry.
Anywho, I'm working on the next chapter of this story, as well as the fourth chapter of "Final Battle". Uh... yeah, that story was origionally just going to be the two chapters... I think it may end up going on much longer than that.
H/H FOREVER!
Bye!
Shades of Grey