Harry Potter and the Rousing of the Lion by mugglemike

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance, Action & Adventure
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 18/07/2004
Last Updated: 26/06/2005
Status: In Progress

Starting directly after the OoTP Harry deals with his inner demons. Dealing with his past,
learning of his heritage, new powers, new classes, and finding a new love will provide all the
necesary elements for an interesting sixth year at Hogwarts. Can he deal with the loss of Sirius?
Can he find the courage and will to fight? More importantly, Can the Lion be Awakened?




1. Wake Up to Life
------------------

Harry Potter and the Rousing of the Lion

Chapter 1 – Wake up to Life

It was a hot, dry day in Little Whinging, Surrey. The summer looked to be the like previous one,
not a single cloud in the sky, only the smouldering heat emerging from the sun threatening to melt
anyone or anything that stood under its rays. The only difference from the previous summer was the
fact that the authorities hadn’t implemented the hosepipe ban, so although it was close to being
40oC, you could see children playing in their yards with the hosepipes, water guns,
build-it-yourself swimming pools, and the like. Noise and laughter could be heard coming from all
over the place, except from Number 4 Privet Drive.

Inside number 4, it was business as usual. Like any summer, or any day, more accurately, you
could see the long neck of a bony woman, Petunia Dursley, watching carefully the comings and goings
of her neighbours, criticizing in exquisite detail everything she saw to her husband Vernon, a huge
beefy man that sat down eating his cholesterol-filled breakfast before heading off to work.

“I tell you, Vernon, the nerve of some people, allowing their children to run around like savage
beasts. I’m so glad our Dudders is now too old to be influenced by them.”

“Dudley, influenced by them? Ha,” began Vernon “Just as soon as he comes back from that boxing
camp of his, he will sure teach those hooligans a lesson. I don’t need to remind you, Petunia, that
Dudley is exactly what every one of them dreams of becoming.” He gave her a huge smile, downed his
cup of coffee, and got up.

“Well, I’m off, not looking forward to spending too much time in the car in this heat.” As he
gathered his things, he stopped at the door and turned back to Petunia, “Is he dead yet?” He said
while moving his head to see up the stairs towards the door of the smallest bedroom.

“Let’s hope not, Vernon. If anything happened to him, you know we would never hear the end of it
from *his* sort of people. We wouldn’t want any of them coming around here. He knows when the
meals are served, if chooses to stay in his room and stare out the window like he has done since he
got here, then let him.”

Vernon didn’t look to happy about letting him be, as it were. You could say that he rather
enjoyed grinding down on his nephew every chance he got. Somehow, though, this summer seemed
different, when they picked him up, he got in the car and stared out the window. When they got
home, he grabbed his things and without a word, he walked to his room, closed the door and sat down
in front of the window staring off. He didn’t act as if he were looking for something, or found the
exterior interesting. He merely stared, not saying a word to anyone.

The abnormal boy they referred to so scathingly was Harry Potter, a skinny looking boy with
messy black hair and emerald green eyes. Although considered abnormal by them, he was perfectly
normal to anyone else. The only thing different about him was that he was a wizard. He was a
wizard, who had just finished his fifth year in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Although the Dursleys hated having him in their home, you could say they had been “persuaded” to
take him in. Since then, Harry’s life had come as close to a living hell as it possibly could. He
would usually stand up for himself and didn’t allow himself to be bullied around by them,
especially after learning of his gift. This summer, however, Harry came back to his hell home just
having witnessed the death of his godfather, Sirius Black, with all life and fight appearing to
have left him.

“I still think he’s up to something, nobody stays in their room for three weeks straight! The
only time I’ve seen him out of it he’s either using the loo or the other day when he came down,
filled a pitcher with water and walked straight up. His abnormality just seems to be getting
worse.”

“I don’t know, Vernon, he looks depressed to me. Probably trying to call attention to
himself.”

“Yes, that might be it. The boy would have to be amazingly stupid to think such a ploy would
work here! Just keep an eye on him, Petunia.” With that he turned around and headed for work.

------------------

Harry could hear the sounds of his aunt and uncle downstairs. He could hear them, but he didn’t
listen. It didn’t matter. At this point, nothing really mattered. Harry sat there, back straight,
making himself uncomfortable as he watched the same images he had been seeing since his return from
Hogwarts. It was as if someone had videotaped everything that happened last June in the Department
of Mysteries and had left it playing and looping. Again and again Harry could see how his “stunt”,
for that’s what he called it now, had gone wrong. Everything about it was wrong, and it cost him a
lot more than he was willing to loose. He saw how his stubbornness had endangered his friends, but
most of all it took Sirius away from Harry. All day, everyday, Harry replayed the look on Sirius’
face when he was struck by the curse, and in slow motion how he fell through the veil, never to be
seen again. Every time he saw it, Harry could only say a few words, “I’m sorry, it was my
fault.”

His stomach grumbled as it did every hour now, but Harry had come to believe that eating was a
privilege he could do without. Why should he get to eat something when Sirius could no longer? Why
should he be comfortable when it was his fault that Sirius was dead? Why should he be happy? Why
should he feel at all? These and many other similar questions plagued Harry’s mind as he saw the
saw images yet again.

When his mind really got tired of replaying these images, they switched the channel to the talk
Harry had with Dumbledore at the end of term. Needless to say, this didn’t help matters any. Not
only was he now responsible for the death of his parents, Cedric Diggory, and now his godfather,
now it was expected or foretold that he was the saviour of the world.

“Great,” he would say to himself, “acting the hero and having a saving-people-thing got my
godfather killed, now Dumbledore expects ME to kill Voldemort! Why? Why is it always me? Why is it
that Dumbledore or and ADULT can’t take care of this? I mean, if I don’t kill Voldemort he will
rule the world. Ok, no pressure. YEAH RIGHT! Come on, I’m just a kid for Merlin’s sake.”

He would cry and complain to himself about this as well. By now, Harry was exhausted, both
mentally and physically. He would always come back to consider giving up, to let someone else carry
the burden. In the end, he knew he couldn’t give up, not only because he never gave up before, but
because he knew it would be a poor way to repay those that died because of him.

If he would have really been looking out the window, he would have seen a very small feathery
ball bobbing up and down in front of him. He was shaken from his thoughts when the ball hit his
forehead and started chirping loudly. Harry recognized it immediately as his best friend Ron’s owl
Pig, so he did what he did since the start of the summer. He fiercely grabbed Pig from the air as
if he were a snitch, tore the letter from his foot, and calmly, yet forcefully, threw him out the
window. Any other owl would have been highly irritated by this conduct, but it seemed Pig
considered it a game of sorts so he chirped loudly outside and headed home. He had received several
letters from Ron, but he never opened them, he just put them in pile on the top left had corner of
his desk, and went back to replaying the same thoughts in his head.

Before long, the sky was dark, and the only lights Harry could see from his window were the
yellow fluorescent lights coming from the street lights. While still slumped in his thoughts, his
attention was called again by his white owl, Hedwig. Harry had sent Hedwig to Hermione in the
beginning of the summer with instructions to stay with her. It was safe to say that the plan failed
miserably. She not only wrote to him once or twice a day, but Hedwig refused to stay away from
Harry for long, so she would come back at night, with a letter from Hermione, and dinner on her
beak. She would drop the letter on Harry’s hands, eat her catch in her cage, drink, and then take
her place on his shoulder. She appeared to be looking for her master answer, never moving from her
sentinel position until around noon, where she would fly to Hermione’s. Sometimes Harry didn’t
realize, or better yet ignored, the new letter until Hedwig gave a hard squeeze on his shoulder
where he would say “Oh, thanks” and place the letter on the top right hand corner of his desk. Like
Ron’s, he hadn’t opened a single one of her letters, so the pile was now getting big. In the back
of his mind, he was starting to tell himself he was being childish and stupid for ignoring those
who obviously cared for him, but then he would think about all the people that had died because of
him, and decided not to read or reply.

As every previous night, Harry fell to his regular uneasy sleep, sitting on his chair, dreaming
of Voldemort, the Department of Mysteries, and Dumbledore. He had been dreaming the same weird
scene for weeks now. He knew it wasn’t anything important, it just reflected his state of mind. He
would be standing in the entrance to the Ministry in front of the Fountain of Magical Brethren with
Voldemort on one side and Dumbledore on the other.

“It’s your fault you know, Potter,” Voldemort would always start, “if you would have just done
as you were told, he would still be alive.”

Then he would laugh, but his laugh was not his own, but Bellatrix Lestrange’s as her form took
Voldemort’s place.

“Oh, little Potty feels all alone now. Did you really think you could do something? Don’t you
know by now, against the power of the Dark Lord, there can be no victory.” Then she would shriek
with laughter.

“You killed him, I’ll kill you the next time we meet! Count on it.” Harry yelled back at
her.

“Empty threat, Potter. You can’t even get yourself to stand, let alone do anything to me.” Her
cackle getting worse.

Harry then turned to face Dumbledore and yelled at him, “You should have told me about
EVERYTHING, then I would now WHY I shouldn’t be coming here. You’re not supposed to make mistakes.
You’re Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of this age!” By now, Harry was crying as well as screaming
at Dumbledore. “You can’t have me used to the idea that you know everything and then it happens
that you made a mistake that cost ME my godfather. You sit there now crumbling your enlightened man
image and in place start crying! I don’t need you to cry, I need you to be strong and all-knowing
as always.”

The nightmare would get more emotionally draining when Dumbledore would look up, with a tear
instead of a twinkle in his eye, and say, “Well, what do you want me to say, Tom’s right, it is
your fault that Sirius died.”

Harry would be shaking in his chair while the nightmare continued. In it he would then turn to
the fountain to find the witch and wizard playing paddy cake, while the house elf rode the centaur
as if he were a bucking bronco. Confused, he would turn over to the fireplace, where it went from
bad to worse. The fireplace would burst with green flames showing the people that went with him to
the Department of Mysteries.

*Flash!* Neville’s head would appear, “Gee, Harry, why did you bring us here? Did you want
us to get killed?”

“Neville, I never wanted…”

*Flash!* Neville’s head would disappear and Luna’s would appear in his place, “Just because
my father published your article doesn’t mean you can gamble with my life, Harry.”

“Luna, I wasn’t…”

*Flash!* Luna turned into Ginny, “So, what, saving me from a basilisk wasn’t big enough for
you, you had to try against Death Eaters!”

Harry was starting to get angry at their accusations, “Ginny, you know…”

*Flash!* Ginny became Ron, “Damn it, Harry! You ALWAYS get me knee deep in Dragon Dung with
your stupid adventures. Why don’t you just give it a rest already with the Hero business and leave
us alone?”

Harry knew who was next, and his anger turned into sorrow, for as many times as he saw her, he
couldn’t bear the thought of what she said actually happening.

*Flash!* Ron turned into Hermione, “Harry, I almost died because of you…”

Every time he heard her say this, he would fall of his chair and wake up. He would then remember
Hermione’s words and start to cry, while crawling to his bed. Once there, he would cry himself to
sleep.

--------------

Hermione woke up from an uneasy sleep. She dreamed that she was trying to get to Harry. To help,
to grieve with him. She would be standing outside a castle and would look up to find him sitting on
a windowsill in the topmost tower. She could see no way to get to him but the stairs. So, she would
run up the stairs as fast as she could, but not get any higher. Just when she thought she was about
to reach his landing, the stairs turned into a slide and slid her all the way out of the castle.
She would stand up to try again, only to find Harry’s body sunk into the earth just bellow the
windowsill he was sitting on earlier. Dumbledore would then appear and just say,

“You didn’t get to him in time.” Madam Pomfrey would then come and take Harry’s body.

She would always wake up after this, never forgetting the outline on the ground that was left
behind by Harry’s body. She knew Harry was not well. He hadn’t answered any of her letters, and
from what she gathered from Ron, he wasn’t writing to anybody. She could also confirm that with the
arrival of Hedwig in the beginning of the summer. She hadn’t forgotten Harry’s words to her in his
only letter to her.

*Hermione,*

*Please take care of Hedwig for me. She’s going to need someone to look out for her since I
won’t really be up to it.*

*I’m fine. Don’t worry. See on the Platform 9 ¾ Sept. 1st.*

*Harry*

Not only did she not believe that he was fine, the fact that he was saying he would see her
until the end of the summer was not a comforting at all. She knew she had to do something, she just
couldn’t decide on what. She needed to be with him, but she knew that if she got there with the
whole Order of the Phoenix entourage Harry would not only close himself off, he would be angry at
her for it; neither of which was going to help. If she could just get to him on her own, she knew
then she could do something to help. One thing she knew for sure, she could not stand idly by and
wait for the worst to happen.

The sun was rising on the horizon, and as she it, she vowed to herself to see Harry today. She
got up, showered, changed into denim shorts and sleeveless pink shirt, gathered her hair in a
ponytail, packed a small bag, and went downstairs to her kitchen. She learned from an early age
that it was always better to ask her parents for something when she had already done something for
them. So she brewed a fresh pot of coffee, and began making some eggs. By the time her parents
reached the kitchen, the table was set and breakfast was waiting for them.

“Wow, Hermione, everything looks wonderful,” her mom said.

“And tasty,” continued her dad having sampled a piece of bacon. They all sat down to enjoy the
meal in the kitchen. By the time they were done and Hermione started to pick up the plates, her dad
spoke.

“Ok, sweetie, out with it. What is it you want?”

“Me, what ever gave you the idea I wanted something? Can’t a girl cook breakfast for her hard
working parents?” Mr. Granger looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “Ok, fine, now before you say
anything, let me just say that I could have easily sneaked out to do it and had you both worried
sick, but I chose not to.”

“This doesn’t bode well,” Mr. Granger said under his breath.

“Now, as I told you before things in the wizarding world are somewhat hectic, and against his
will, Harry is always right smack in the middle of it. Now at the end of last summer, Harry lost
his godfather in an attack, something I’m sure he’s blaming himself for. He won’t talk to anybody
and I’ve been having nightmares about what he might do if he doesn’t get help. He needs a friend
there with him, someone who will listen to everything he has to say and not judge it or reprimand
him for it. More importantly, I think he needs a shoulder to cry on. So, having said all that, I
want to go visit Harry, and stay with him for a couple of days.”

The silence in the kitchen was nerve-wracking. She knew her dad was about to go ballistic with
the idea of his only daughter staying a boy’s house. However, their expressions were hard to read.
They turned to each other, then to Hermione, then back to themselves. Hermione couldn’t bare the
silence anymore, so she spoke up.

“Ok, I’m done for now, you can say something.”

“Well sweetheart, it not like we weren’t expecting something like this.” Hermione’s eyes widened
with shock “I mean’ you might not know it, but you scream rather loudly sometimes in your sleep,”
her mother said.

“That’s why we have been checking on you so much at night. Its just that you staying over part
I’m not comfortable with.”

“Dad, do you trust me?”

“Of course, sweetie. It’s not just the fact that you would be alone with Harry, although THAT is
big issue, it’s also his relatives. I mean you could not find a worse family if you tried.”

“Dad, I know that I’m asking for a lot, but I need to know for both our sakes that he’s alright.
I won’t be able to rest before I know that.”

Mr. Granger took a rather long sip from his cup, looked at Hermione intently, and then
spoke,

“Ok, here are my conditions. You will take my cell phone. You will call the house everyday at 8
p.m. on the dot to make sure you’re OK. You will call if there is any, and I mean any emergency, so
we can go get you. Also, if that sorry excuse for a family does ANYTHING to you, you call me and
let me know.”

Hermione’s face lit up when she heard her father talk. She wasn’t too fond of calling home all
the time, but she knew it was the best offer she could get. She got up, gave her father a great hug
and big kiss and said “Thank you” a thousand times, then did the same for her mother.

“Well, we better get going, it’s a long way to Surrey. Hermione, I see you’re packed.” She said
glancing at Hermione’s backpack just outside the kitchen. “By the way,” she said looking at her
husband, “you owe me lunch.” Hermione looked from one parent to another to see what this could
mean, but she shrugged it off.

-----------

With that the Grangers got into their car and drove. They called their secretary to tell her
they would be arriving late due to a family emergency. As they drove, Hermione was rehearsing what
she would say to the Dursleys when she got there. She knew they would not want to let her in, even
less stay with them, but that the least of her worries. She was scared about her confrontation with
Harry. Everything had to be done carefully, since he would surely be on edge. She was distracted by
her father’s voice calling her.

“We’re here, sweetie. Now, here’s my phone, and its charger. Don’t forget, call if you need
anything, or if anything happens. We’ll be waiting for your call tonight. Oh, and here,” he gave
her a wad of money containing close to 300 pounds, “just in case.”

“Take care of yourself, and of Harry,” her mom said, giving her a kiss and hug. Hermione said
goodbye, took a deep breath, and turned to walk up to the Dursleys’ door.

As she walked up, she could tell that the garden needed tending. This meant they weren’t forcing
Harry to work. While this would generally be good news, right now it meant that Harry had nothing
to distract himself with.

It was mid-afternoon, which meant Harry’s uncle was still at work. That was good, since she
considered it would be best to deal with Aunt Petunia than with Vernon. She walked up to the door
and rang the bell. Apparently, Harry wasn’t opening doors either since his aunt opened the door.
She looked at Hermione, gave her a fake smile and said “No, thank you, not interested” and slammed
the door before she could say anything. Hermione took another deep breath and rang the bell
again.

Petunia was clearly annoyed with the fact that the girl didn’t get the hint. “Like I said, not
interested.”

She was about to close the door when Hermione put her foot on the door and said, “I’m not
selling anything. I’m here to see Harry.”

If Aunt Petunia was shocked by her placing her foot in the door she was floored when she asked
for Harry. “He’s not receiving visitors at the moment, nor is he ever since he hardly ever leaves
his room. So, kindly take your foot from the door and leave.”

“I think you and I should talk inside,” she told her.

“And why would I allow another freak inside my house, and even yet to have her talk to me?”

“Because although you’ll never admit it, you know there’s something wrong with Harry. I’m here
to help him, although he doesn’t know that yet. Most importantly though, because if you and I
continue to speak out here, think what the neighbours might say,” she knew that this last statement
would make it or break it for her.

Petunia eyed her suspiciously, clearly weighing the options she had. Suddenly her glare softened
and she moved aside to allow her inside. Petunia rapidly closed the door and ushered her into the
living room. She took the hint, and sat directly in front of her and got straight to business.

“My name is Hermione Granger. I go to school with Harry. I would first of all like to thank you.
I know that this was not an easy decision for you and that you probably don’t care either way, but
I thank you nonetheless. You mentioned Harry stays in his room. Could you tell me what he’s been
doing?”

Petunia was still eyeing her closely, “Ever since he got here he hasn’t said a single word. All
he does is sit in his room and stare out the window. He doesn’t appear to be looking for anything,
he just sits straight as a board, and stares. He’s had about half a meal each day, by choice, mind
you, the he fills a pitcher of water and goes back to his room. At night, I have sometimes heard
him crying a bit. Now, go up, talk to him, and please leave before 8 since Vernon will be arriving
at that time.”

Hermione knew that she had to talk to her about her prolonged stay. “Look, Mrs. Dursley, I know
that my being here is already a stretch for what you usually do for Harry, but you also now very
well his problem won’t get sorted in a couple of hours. I need to stay with him.” Petunia’s eyes
grew wide at this, but before she could say anything, she continued, “We won’t be doing anything
like that. Harry needs to grieve over a recent loss close to his heart. I’m hoping he will open up
to me, but I need some time. I swear that we will keep out of your way, as I am also willing to pay
for my stay and the inconvenience.”

Petunia stayed still and quiet. She knew how Vernon would react, not only giving Harry a female
stay-over friend, but a witch nonetheless. In the end, Petunia knew she had to give something to
Harry, at least this late in his life.

“Alright, Ms. Granger. I know that it will certainly not be alright with Vernon, but I think I
owe Harry this. Never have I seen him so rundown, even with the harsh treatment we give him. I owe
it to him and to my sister. He’ll be an adult soon, and from what I hear he’s kind of important to
your lot, so just stay in his room until Vernon leaves. I will allow you to have lunch with us.
Other than that, you’re on your own.”

“Those terms would be fine, and I thank you again.”

As Hermione got up and walked to Harry’s room, she thought about the conversation she had just
had. She had been very respectful and thanked Petunia a lot, more than she deserved probably, but
it was best to be civil. After all, if she got defensive right away, she would not have gotten
anywhere. She also thought about her comment about Harry being “rather important to your lot.” “You
have no idea,” Hermione said to herself.

She reached Harry’s door and stared at it for a few minutes. This was what she came for. She had
passed all the other obstacles, now it time to get to work. She was hesitant, and scared out of her
mind thinking she might not be able to handle it. She thought of Harry and all doubt and fear left
her, “He would do the same for me,” she thought, and with that she opened the door and entered.

Once inside, she caught the smell of the room. The majority of the room was untidy, with clothes
thrown all over the place, but the worst was where she saw Harry. He was sitting there, back
straight, staring out the window. From his smell, she could see that it had been a while since his
last shower. He was sitting in his boxer shorts and a T-shirt. His desk didn’t have a single empty
spot. It was covered with what looked to be about fifty unopened letters, the majority of which
were hers. She walked closer and was now directly behind him. She could see letters from Ron, Remus
Lupin, Ginny, Luna, Neville, even Professor Dumbledore’s letters remained closed. On top of the
pile was a long black scroll with gold lettering that read: *Black Family Trust*. She could
tell this was not helping matters. She moved to his side and moved a hand in front of his face. He
didn’t move, as if he were a mannequin or something. If she hadn’t had that conversation with
Petunia, she would have been concerned. Seeing this was going to take longer than expected, she
left Harry’s room, found Dudley’s room, carried a chair out of his room and took it into Harry’s.
She placed her chair besides the desk giving her back to the window and stared at Harry. It was
important that he made the first move, or he might quickly lose his temper, and everything would go
downhill from there.

So she sat there, looking at him and wished every five minutes she was a legimens. The sky had
turned black and Hedwig came in with her dinner. Hermione could see Harry was still looking out the
window, so she grabbed a sandwich from her bag and ate a piece. By the time she was done with her
sandwich, she saw Harry had dozed off. What scared her the most was that Harry maintained his
posture. After a while, he began to shake. Hermione was clearly alarmed and figured now was the
time to jump in when she saw him fall to the floor. He took hold of Harry’s arms and called to him.
She kept at it until his eyes opened in shock, looked straight at her, and said, “I’m sorry,
Hermione,” and with that he began to cry, and although he had tears still flowing from his face, he
was now asleep. She had tears falling freely down her cheeks. She amazed herself when she carried
Harry over to his bed. She cradled his head in her arms and rubbed his back slowly, just as she
remembered her mom used to do to her when she had a nightmare when she was younger. She could feel
him start to relax under her touch.

“Shhhh, Harry, I’m with you now.” And with that they both fell into the most comfortable sleep
they had had in a long while.

--------------

By the time Hermione woke up, the sun had risen, and noise could be heard coming in through the
window. She glanced over to the clock on Harry desk to find it to be almost noon. She amazed
herself at sleeping this long, then looked down at Harry, whose head was still on her lap.

“I guess we both needed a goodnight’s sleep,” she said, as she gently stoked his hair. He was
still asleep, and he seemed calm, as if he got a break from carrying a huge load by himself.
Hermione knew this assessment was not far from the truth. She wanted to go the loo, and perhaps
change, since she was still wearing what she wore the day before. She convinced herself she should
wait, she wanted to, no needed, to be there when Harry woke up. He was more relaxed now; he would
be easier to approach as he was instead of trying to wake up a life-size doll. So she continued to
move her fingers through his hair, trying to massage his head at the same time. He started to stir,
but kept his eyes closed. He reminded her of Crookshanks, her cat, who moved like this when she
petted him.

“Mmm, that feels good,” Harry spoke, “it’s a shame I’m still dreaming.”

He took in a deep breath and opened his eyes slowly as he sat up on his bed, back towards the
door. He couldn’t see very well since didn’t have his glasses on, which he didn’t remember having
removed, but he saw someone in front of him, someone who handed him his glasses. “I must still be
dreaming,” he thought as he put his glasses on. The person came into focus to reveal Hermione
giving him a shy smile. He looked away from her shaking his head in disbelief. He looked back, and
she was still there. He stared at her, pinched himself, and yelled.

“Holly Hell!” he screamed as he fell backwards out of his bed, rolled and smacked the back of
his head against his door.

“Well, it’s nice to see you, too,” she said, giving him an even bigger smile.

“What are you doing here? When did you get here? How did you get past the Dursleys? Why are you
in my room?”

“Harry, calm down. Ok. I got here yesterday, your aunt allowed me to stay, and I’m here because,
although you’ll probably never admit it, you needed a friend to be with you,” she finished
softly.

“Well, I appreciate your concern and all, but I’m fine. I’m dealing with things on my own
perfectly well,” he said, not looking at her and stared out the window. “Thanks for dropping by,
but as you can see, I’m very busy. I’ll see you at the start of term, alright?” With that he got
up, opened the door for her, and went and sat down in his chair, straight as a board and looked out
the window.

Hermione couldn’t decide if this was good or bad. She was expecting him to be like before, full
of anger and rage, but his expressionless face and empty voice sent a shiver down her spine. She
got up, and went to use the restroom to freshen up. This was going to be a long day. She went back
to Harry’s room, picked up the empty pitcher, and walked down to the kitchen. It was empty, as was
the rest of the house, which made her feel uneasy. She shrugged it off, filled the pitcher with
lemonade from the fridge, made a couple sandwiches, and went back to the room. She placed the
pitcher and the plate with sandwiches on the desk, and sat exactly like she did yesterday. For now,
she would play it his way, but soon she was ready to take drastic measures.

It had been three days since the “silent treatment” started, and she was just about ready to
call it quits. By now she had memorized every detail of his face, from the length of his scar, to
the wrinkles on his forehead, to his empty, cold, green eyes. Those eyes were always full of love,
full of life. You could feel the heat coming from them when he looked at you. Now they were a
barren wasteland, devoid of the life they had before. She still cuddled him at night, since he had
fits just like the day she got there. When he woke up, he would say two words “Hi” and “Bye.” It
was only the conversations she had with her parents at night that kept her from going insane.

As the fourth day started Hermione showered, changed, and was ready for action. She didn’t
bother to bring any food or drink this time; she walked straight into the room and closed the
curtains.

“Do you mind, I was kind of watching that,” she heard him say.

“Well, if you want to be able to see China from here, you won’t be able to. Now, look at
me.”

He didn’t move. He took a deep breath and stared at the closed curtains.

“Then, I’m sorry for this, Harry.”

SLAP! She slapped him hard across the face. Harry turned to her, not with an angry glare, but
with a confused and shocked expression.

“Snap out of it, Harry! This isn’t helping you to deal with anything. It’s simply destroying who
you are! Can’t you see that there are people who care for you?” she said as she threw a handful of
letters in his face. Hermione was crying now, “Can’t you see that they need you? That your friends
need you? That I need you?”

“Hermione, you don’t understand. It’s my…”

“Stop it, Harry. Stop right there. What happened isn’t your fault! Every tragedy that has
happened to you in the past is not your fault. You can’t blame yourself for everything that
happens. Blaming yourself won’t change things. It doesn’t matter how much you want things to have
been reversed, or anything like that, things are the way they are for a reason.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in all that divination, destiny crap,” he said, his voice still
with a heavy, empty tone.

“I don’t, not really. But don’t you understand? You can’t worry yourself over what you can’t
control. You can’t control who lives or dies, nobody can. All you can do is be thankful for what
they did while they were here. Treasure the memories, but use them to make you stronger, don’t
allow them to consume you.”

“That’s just it, Hermione, I told Cedric to take the cup with me, and what happened? He got
killed. I ignored you and everyone else and allowed myself to get tricked and led all of you into
danger and got Sirius killed! It was all my fault. I mean, YOU almost died because of me,” he
finished, remembering his dreams as single tear dropped down his cheek.

“Look at me, Harry, damn it, look at me!” He turned towards her. “You took the cup with Cedric
because neither of you was going to allow themselves to be sole victor. That’s the kind of person
you are, the kind of person Cedric was. He was older than you, Harry, and I’m sure, seeing the kind
of person he was, he would have looked out for you instead of himself. I could almost say that if
Voldemort gave him the choice of who died, he would never pick you.” Harry looked down at the
floor, as she continued. “It was the same with Sirius. He had to be there for you, and I’m sure he
would give up anything for you, even his life, just to make sure you were ok, and had a future. He
loved you, Harry, as a son. He wouldn’t want you to forget to live, just because of what
happened.”

Harry looked up at her “Dumbledore once told me it does not do to dwell on dreams, and forget to
live. Why is it that those who love to me too much have to die? Am I destined to be alone, to die
alone?” he was crying harder and fell to the floor.

Hermione was quickly at his side and wrapped him in huge hug and he wept on her shoulder. How
could she respond to his questions? It was always Harry who lost someone dear to him.

“That’s it, Harry, let it all out. Not everyone that loves you has left you, and you are most
certainly not alone. Some are right here with you, and those passed on never leave you. You can
always feel them and hear them here,” she said, crying with him and placing his hand on his chest.
“I’ll always be here with you, Harry, if you’ll let me.”

Hermione was pouring out her soul to Harry. Telling him everything she felt for him, every way
she loved him. For she had known for a while now that she loved him. She never said anything, nor
acted like it, but at the moment she didn’t care. She broke down with him and cried. Both clinging
on to each other for comfort.

--------------

A couple hours later, Harry stirred in Hermione’s arms. Se looked down at him to see a glimmer
of her old friend back. She knew this would take time after all.

“Feeling better?”

“A bit, yeah.”

“Good, that means you can get up and hop in the shower while I make us some lunch, ok?”

“Alright.” He didn’t feel too much like arguing with her after all she had done for him. Also,
after taking a whiff of his armpit, he could see that he clearly needed it. So, he got up and went
into the bath room.

As he closed the door behind him, he looked at himself in the mirror. He was a mess. His eyes
looked tired, the skin was hanging of his bones and his hair was all over the place. He felt like
Remus Lupin, his former Hogwarts professor and friend, must feel after his werewolf
transformations.

“At least that didn’t change much,” he said to himself as he jumped into the shower. The warm
water was reminding him of all stiff muscles and joints he had gotten due to his routine. It was
nice to step out and feel clean and new. He still hadn’t gotten the closure he needed, but it was a
work in progress. He knew very well that it was thanks to Hermione. She came when no one else did.
She came for him. She saved him from himself. He remembered everything she said. He never knew she
felt that way. He thought he would feel surprised or awkward towards her after hearing this, but he
didn’t. As he shaved the few hairs on his face, he thought back to the first time he met her. So
she was a bossy know-it-all at first. This Harry knew by now to be her defence mechanism against
those she didn’t know. As they became friends, she was always there to help him out. She would
always worry about him when he got hurt, which he now felt bad for, since it happened a lot. She
was always there for him, she believed him without question. She would follow him, even with her
reservations, to every stupid and dangerous adventure he ever thought of. She was always by his
side. His one true constant. Ron came and went depending on his mood and insecurities, Dumbledore
was no longer perfect, Lupin couldn’t always be there for him because of Order business, and the
others well, they didn’t know him that well. Hermione did though. She could look at Harry and know
what he was thinking. She was his rock.

“Great,” he said as he slapped himself on the forehead, “it only took you five years to figure
that what you were always looking for was right in front of you.” He got up, and left for the
kitchen.

-------------------

As Harry was in the shower, Hermione got a piece of parchment a quill and wrote a long letter to
Dumbledore. When she finished she walked over to Hedwig and tied it to her leg.

“I’m sorry to be such a bother Hedwig, but I really need this to get to Dumbledore quick. It
just might be next small step to make things better for Harry.”

Hedwig gave her an understanding hoot and sped off through the window.

“I just hope he agrees with me and does things like I planned. It should be easier for him.”

---------------

Hermione was sitting there, waiting for him. She prepared a couple cheese and ham sandwiches for
them to go with the cold lemonade in their glasses. They ate in silence, as Harry watched Hermione
carefully. She knew he was looking at her, but wasn’t sure what it was all about. She decided to
speak before her insecurities started to get the better of her.

“What is it?”

“Thank you, Hermione, for everything. I’ll never forget what you did for me.”

She smiled at him with her perfect smile. “I’ll make it up to you someday, everyday,” Harry
thought to himself, “not because I have to do it or should do it, but because I want to do it. I
just have to starting thinking about how to get started.”

“So, what do we do now?” Harry asked.

“Now we wait and rest, tomorrow will be another long day, but with a little help, it just might
help you along. Tomorrow, we finish old business. We have to finish old business before starting
new business, just remember, Harry, baby steps.”

He laughed at her softly, she got all business like all of a sudden, back to her old self, but
he was game. Anything that she thought would help was welcome. It was probably going to be hard,
but he knew she would be beside him, and with her, he could face anything.



2. Old Business
---------------

A/N: Wow! I was floored by the reception my story got. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, reading
those encouraging comments made me want to write faster. I’m thinking about uploading a chapter a
week. That should give me enough time to write them and my beta’s time to correct them. A huge
shout-out goes to my wonderful beta’s! =)

Harry Potter and the Rousing of the Lion

Chapter 2 – Old Business

Hermione woke up early the next morning to the soft hoots coming from Hedwig. As she glimpsed
outside the window, the day looked unlike any of the previous ones. The sky had turned black,
filled with thick, dark clouds. She felt the day was getting ready for the tasks ahead of them.

She sat up from the kip she had made for herself on the floor last night. She laughed as she
recalled the discussion she and Harry had over their sleeping arrangements. Harry had immediately
offered Hermione the bed, which she refused with the excuse that he was going to need the rest a
lot more than she was. Harry, wanting to be the perfect gentleman, refused, so they went back and
forth arguing until Harry realized the pointlessness of arguing with Hermione, who, after all,
could be a lot more stubborn than he was. Harry did try to compromise by saying, although blushing
slightly, that they should share the bed, just as they had done the previous nights. Hermione
didn’t have this in her list of possibilities. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, she gently
declined, saying that she moved around a lot and would disturb his rest. The real reason was that
now that she had expressed all her feelings towards him, she didn’t trust him, or herself for that
matter, to be that close, at least not now.

“Ok, Hermione, tonight we’ll do it your way. Tomorrow,” he looked at the puzzled expression on
her face, “well, tomorrow we’ll see.”

She shook her thoughts by thinking of today’s events. She had to keep herself as calm and
collected as she possibly could. He would definitely need her every step of the way; she was there,
after all, for moral support. She got up and stretched herself to her limits to shake off the
stiffness of her back. Hedwig flew over to her, dropping Dumbledore’s letter in front of her. She
took a deep breath as she opened the letter.

*Ms. Granger,*

*I have read your letter carefully, and after looking over all the points you made, I must
agree with you. Harry needs to learn to leave his past behind him, something which, as you pointed
out, he never learned how to do. Since it was you took matters into her own hands in order to help
him, I will grant you the honor of being his companion on this task. A word of caution, though, you
must understand that for same reasons you mentioned, Harry is emotionally unstable. Not that he
would hurt you, but you must take heed to not absorb the torrents of emotions he will be
experiencing. I am sure that Remus, Molly, and even I would gladly accompany Harry on his journey,
but have decided to side with you yet again. If you feel up to the task, it’s yours. Remember now,
help him, but don’t do it for him.*

Hermione stopped reading and debated with her subconscious. “Is there anyone else that I think
should be doing this with Harry? No. Can I handle being his shoulder to cry on? I’ve done pretty
well so far. Can you handle it? Only one way to find out.”

*As per your request, all travel arrangements have been made. As for your escort, an
“objective” but tactful member of the Order will arrive at 9 a.m. Please be ready to leave by
then.*

*Professor Albus Dumbledore*

Hermione glanced over at the clock that read 7:30 a.m. She sighed in relief seeing that they
would have enough time to get ready. She grabbed her bag and went to bathroom. As she stepped out
of the shower she thought about the proper dressing attire she should use. Not having much to
choose from, and considering there was a storm brewing outside, she chose a pair of black slacks,
and a white blouse with a red jacket over it. It wasn’t exactly the color of choice, but it would
have to do.

She walked back to the room finding him breathing slowly, an obvious sign that he was still
asleep. She walked over to his closet to pick out what he should wear. She didn’t have mush to
choose from here either, considering the huge sizes of his hand-me-down clothes.

“I’ve got to get him some clothes of his own. I can’t believe the only clothes they’ve ever
bought for him are his underwear.”

She opted for pair of his black school slacks, a navy blue buttoned down shirt, and a black
jacket. After leaving everything ready in the bathroom, she went over to wake him.

“Wake up, sleepy head,” she said as she ruffled his hair with her hand.

“Ugh, five more minutes,” he complained as he covered his head with his pillow.

“Come on, Harry, you’ve got to get ready.”

“You know, I may not be the smartest bloke around, but it gets confusing between ‘go to sleep’
one minute and ‘wake up’ the other. You’ve got to make up your mind,” he gave her a smile, and lay
back down pretending to be asleep.

Hermione simply walked around the bed, got a good hold of the mattress, and with all her
strength she lifted it, throwing Harry off the side. The look of shock on his face was priceless.
She merely shrugged at him.

“Oops.”

“Oops? What do you mean, ‘Oops?’”

He called back to her, pretending to be angry with her. She pretended right back, holding his
gaze. After about a minute, they both started to shake and finally burst out laughing.

“Come on, Harry, get yourself cleaned up. We have around forty five minutes to be ready.”

“Don’t you mean forty four minutes?” he asked cheekily, to which Hermione gave him a scowl.
“Just kidding, so where are we going?”

Hermione was quiet for a while, thinking of the best way to answer.

“We’re going to go places where you will hopefully find what you need to be able to let go and
move on.”

“Well, that settles it. That’s the longest way you could have possibly thought of to say
absolutely nothing. Well, kind of. Alright, keep your secrets, although it’s only fair to warn you
that I owe you big time for that wake-up call.”

With that he turned and went to get ready, leaving her deep in thought about just what he might
do.

She decided to busy herself by tidying the room up a bit. After folding the sheets she had used,
and organizing his letter-filled desk, she went down towards the kitchen. It being early, she knew
she was about to encounter Harry’s Uncle Vernon, something she had been happy to avoid until now.
She decided the best course was to be quick and polite.

“Good morning,” she said as she walked over to the fridge, filled two glasses with milk, grabbed
some toast on a napkin, and walked out. She had just exited the kitchen when Harry came down.

“I see you have just met good old Uncle Vernon,” Harry said sarcastically.

“Not really, he just glared at me. His face looked just about ready to pop, though, and I could
have sworn I saw steam coming out of his ears.” Hermione replied, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yep, that’s him.”

“Drink up, it’s almost time.”

They finished their milk and toast quickly and quietly.

“Here, I should take these back. I don’t want you on the receiving end of my uncle’s, um,
outbursts.”

Hermione was a bit uneasy with the whole deal. She could hear sounds coming from the kitchen,
but couldn’t make out any of them. Just as she was about to go into the kitchen herself, she heard
a loud knocking on the door. She looked through the peep hole and was shocked by who was standing
behind it.

“Tonks! What are you doing here?” Hermione’s tone was not too friendly. Tonks was certainly not
what she thought Dumbledore had meant.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to see you, too, Hermione.”

“Sorry, it’s just that, well, you’re…”

“Not completing the requirements for the ideal escort on grieving mission?” Hermione looked down
at the floor. She didn’t mean to be rude to Tonks, she was just not what she expected. At least
this time her hair was brown and she was dressed rather formally. “I’m just kidding, Hermione. I’m
not angry or anything. In fact, I’m actually proud of you. You seem to have a very good grasp of
what Harry needs, better than most I would say, and let me say that I agree with you completely.
The last thing he needs right now is someone be molly-cuddling him. She has a good heart, Molly,
but she just can’t control herself. Speaking of which, where’s your handsome hunk now?”

Hermione blushed deeply with this last remark. “He went to leave some glasses in the kitchen a
while ago. I was just about to…”

CRASH! THUMP!

They heard the sounds coming from the kitchen as they raced inside, wands at the ready. The
sight before them was the last thing they could have ever imagined. Vernon was laid out on the
floor, face down, apparently knocked out, with ceramic shards around his head. Petunia was standing
over him with what was left from a plate in her hands, with a look of utter terror on her face.
Harry meanwhile was leaning against the cabinets with a shocked expression directed towards his
aunt.

“What the hell happened here?” Tonks bellowed. “Harry, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Shocked, a little confused, but fine.”

Hermione rushed to his side to make sure he was alright as Tonks turned to Petunia. She put on
her best mean Auror face and inquired again in a soft deep threatening voice, “What happened?”

Petunia was trembling slightly. “Well, um, Harry came in to leave those glasses in the sink over
there when Vernon began his usual verbal taunting and bashing at Harry. He was already on edge when
she,” she mentioned looking at Hermione, “left the kitchen. When he saw Harry, I guess you could
say he missed mistreating him. He was enraged even further when Harry totally tuned him out. As
Harry began to leave the room, Vernon got up as if he were going to slap him. Next thing I know,
I’m standing here having broken a dinner plate on my husbands head.” Petunia began to sob at the
end. “Please, I know it might be asking too much, but could you please fix this with your, um,
thing.”

If Tonks was angry at the Dursleys before, she was enraged now at Petunia’s dismissal of magic.
She looked intently at Petunia who looked liked she was folding under Tonks stare.

“Obliviate. Obliviate. Wingardium Leviosa. Reparo. Scourgify.”

In an instant both the Dursleys had their memory modified, Vernon was back in his seat, the
broken dish was fixed, and the floor was cleaned. Tonks turned to face Harry and Hermione, still
clearly angry at what had just taken place.

“Let’s go, we’re going to be late,” she produced a steel horseshoe from her pocket motioning
them to grab on.

“This portkey will take us to our first stop.”

Harry felt the familiar tug behind him and was transported out.

-------------------

They landed hard on what Harry saw to be a heavily wooded area. Harry managed to keep his
balance this time, but he helped Hermione to her feet. Harry had no idea where they were.

“Ok, now can I know where we are, and where we’re going?”

“Just outside Ottery St. Catchpole, and to the Diggory’s house, of course,” Tonks answered. From
the look on Harry face, she could tell he had no idea. She turned to Hermione who was looking down
at the ground, “You mean, you didn’t tell him where we were going?”

Hermione shook her head. She took a deep breath and decided to get it over with.

“Tonks, could you give us a minute,” she asked, seeing that Harry was rather angry about not
being told about any of this. Tonks nodded and walked several steps ahead to be out of earshot.

“Why didn’t you tell me where we were going?”

She would have preferred his angry screaming to emptiness in his voice.

“Would you have come if I told you?” she asked back.

“Hermione, that’s not the point, the point is…”

“The point, Harry, as we talked about yesterday, was to deal with your past. You’ve never dealt
with any of this. You’ve just buried it deep inside you. Well, all those feelings you never dealt
with consumed you at the beginning of the summer. You have to grieve for those you have lost. I’m
not asking you to forget them; all I’m asking is for you to leave the guilt behind. It is an
unnecessary burden you’re carrying, it’s weighing you down, and it’s something that you need to
learn to let go of. Most importantly, you need to learn to mourn.”

Deep down, he knew she was right. The problem was that he didn’t know how to do any of it. He
took a deep breath and walked towards Hermione, leaving his anger behind with each step.

“How do I do that, Hermione?”

“I don’t really know, Harry, but I’m here with you to help you figure it out.”

Harry couldn’t help but give her a small smile. She was there to help. To be with him. His one
true constant. His guardian angel.

“Ok, let’s go.”

They walked over to Tonks.

“You ready for this, Harry?”

“No, but it’s as ready as I’m gonna be.”

They were walking uphill towards what looked to be a large clearing where a house could be seen
in the distance. Harry never knew much about Cedric, or his family. His was sure, though, that this
was where he learned to play quidditch.

“Harry,” Tonks began, shaking his thoughts about Cedric, “I must say that I’m happy, or better
yet surprised, of how you handled yourself with your uncle back there. Not many people could tune
out that man. Can I ask how you did it?”

Harry thought for a minute before he answered.

“I don’t know,” he looked over at Hermione, who wasn’t looking at him, “I guess my guardian
angel helped me through it,” he answered simply.

Tonks looked at him as if to decipher his meaning when she glanced over at Hermione and nodded
silently.

The rest of the walk was spent in silence. As they got closer, they saw that the house was, in
fact, an enormous log cabin complete with a porch with a picnic table on one side, and several
rocking chairs on the other. There, sitting on the rocking chairs, were Cedric’s parents. Mrs.
Diggory appeared to be knitting a rather large quilt, while Mr. Diggory smoked from a short pipe.
As they approached, Mrs. Diggory went into the house, as Mr. Diggory stood up to greet them,
standing tall and slowly, menacingly, scratching his beard below his chin.

“Tonks,” Mr. Diggory greeted her with a nod.

“Amos,” Tonks replied the same way. “This is Hermione Granger, I believe you saw her briefly at
the Quidditch World Cup, and Harry, of course.”

“A pleasure, Ms. Granger,” he said to Hermione nodding as well, “but if you’ll excuse us, Harry
and I have a long talk ahead of us.”

Amos put his arm around Harry’s shoulder and guided him towards the forest behind the cabin.
Harry took a breath and let himself be guided towards the forest behind the house.

“I must say, Harry, that having you here, two years to the day of Cedric’s funeral is not what I
thought it would be,” his tone cold and very business like. “When Dumbledore contacted me to ask my
permission to allow you to come here, well, let’s just say I had my doubts. I won’t lie to you,
Harry, for a long time I held you directly responsible for what happened to my son.”

Mr. Diggory paused, allowing his words to sink in.

“When you came back from Merlin knows where, with the lifeless body of my son, you were the
easiest person to blame. It was also more comforting to call you a liar instead of dealing with the
enormity of your accusations. I’m not as blind or as stupid as Fudge was all last year, but like
many of us who witnessed the horrors of the first war, we would rather reassure ourselves by
calling all of you liars instead of dealing with reality.”

He looked up towards the cloud filled sky. It was still dark since only a few rays of sun could
pierce through the thick dark clouds.

“I spent countless nights looking up at the stars, searching, praying for and answer, for some
form of understanding. If the answer was there I never found it, so I started to pace around the
grounds. It was then that the answer showed itself. I found this.”

He pointed towards a tree trunk that had a snitch carved into the bark.

“When Cedric was just a young boy,” he started to reminisce, now in a friendlier tone, “all he
wanted was to play quidditch. Quidditch was the world to him. He would fly all over the grounds and
the forest. He would drive his mother crazy with the stunts he’d pull. As he grew up, he seemed to
loose the love for the game. He became more serious, quieter. When you arrived at Hogwarts, you
caught Cedric’s attention immediately. When he came back that summer I found him carving this, so I
naturally asked him about it. He told me that when he saw you fly, he could see in you the joy he
used to feel. ‘Dad, he just found out he’s a wizard, a famous one at that, and now he’s the
youngest seeker in a century.’ He would say this, not in a jealous or angry tone, but giving you
high praise. He said that when you took to the field, you looked like you didn’t have a care in the
world, you just played the game because you loved it, and you barely even knew enough about
it.”

He paused to allow Harry to digest everything he was saying.

“I also remember the way he admired you after you won the cup in your third year. Modest as
always, he never talked about the game in which he beat you, instead he would say to me, ‘Dad
here’s a kid who has an enormous amount of pressure on him, who defies the odds with everything he
does, and he still keeps his wits about him and enjoys playing a simple game of quidditch. I mean
he’s competitive, no question about that, but he’s the ideal sportsman in the pitch.’ Safe to say
it took me a while to understand what it was he saw in you.”

Harry had tears coming out of his eyes. He had no idea that Cedric held him in such high
regards. He couldn’t see how somebody older and wiser could be praising him like that. He never
even thought about all those things Mr. Diggory mentioned. Mr. Diggory grabbed Harry by the
shoulders and turned Harry to face him.

“I want you to know, Harry, that none of us blame you for what happened. I’m sure that Cedric,
being the kind of person he was, would not have allowed it to happen any other way.”

Harry hadn’t realized they were now standing before a huge oak tree. On the base of the tree, in
white marble with copper lettering, was Cedric’s tombstone.

R.I.P.

Cedric Diggoy

1978 – 1995

Beloved son, Gone,

Never Forgotten.

“I’ll leave you here a moment to collect your thoughts.”

Mr. Diggory turned and walked back to the house. Harry stared at the tombstone for about an hour
without saying anything. He was replaying in his head everything he had just been told, everything
he remembered about Cedric, everything Hermione said earlier. Thunder could be heard in the
distance as a soft shower started to fall. The day, along with Harry, was beginning to mourn.

“I don’t really know what it is I’m supposed to say,” he started, his voice just above a
whisper. “I don’t even know if you can hear me.”

He looked up towards the sky, the soft raindrops mixing with his tears.

“I have lived my life blaming myself for everything that happens around me. While I still think
you died because you were with me, I won’t forget the enormous sacrifice you made for me.”

He tuned back to look at the tombstone.

“I never saw it as a sacrifice before, given that you really didn’t get much choice in the
matter, but your dad, who knew you a lot better than I did, says he’s sure you would have protected
me. Deep down, from the little I got to know you, I know it to be true. I just want you to know
that I would have willingly given my life for yours. I promise you that I will try to live my life
in an attempt to meet those qualities you mentioned to your father. I owe you at least that much.
As for Wormtail, the Death Eater that killed you, I’ll get him for you. He’s done too much damage
already.”

He stood there, still looking at the tombstone. In his mind he thanked Cedric for everything he
did for him, and everything he learned from him. As he did so, he felt a burden lighten in his
chest, as if there had been a fist clenched around his heart that finally began to loosen its
grip.

He felt someone’s arms circling around his waist. He knew it was Hermione. He knew she had come
to comfort him. As he felt her tighten her arms around him and place her forehead on his back, he
realized that he liked the feeling of her arms around him. They told him that she was there, to
care for him, to love him.

“Come on, Harry, let’s get out of this rain, we have more places to visit before the day is
up.”

--------------

Far away, deep in the Lacandona jungle located in the southeastern part of Mexico, the outline
of a man could be seen behind a rising screen of smoke. The man looked to be old, his brown skin
was worn and his gray hair reached the floor. He was staring, unblinkingly, into the base of the
smoke screen, just where the fire ended and smoke began. His eyes were brown, but the life seen in
them was of a man in his prime. A man whose knowledge could surpass any living person on the
planet. His grim, studious expression changed into a small smile.

“The first ray of light pierces into the lion’s cave. Soon, there will be enough light to wake
him.”

Concentrating again, he threw some red flower petals into the flames, his mind focused, eyes
never blinking.

-----------------------------

Harry and Hermione were sitting side by side on the picnic table on the Diggory’s porch. As soon
as they got back, Tonks quickly performed a drying spell on them while Mrs. Diggory handed them a
mug of hot chocolate. It was around noon, although the day didn’t show it, keeping its cool and
ominous appearance. The rain had let up, but they knew it would get worse later.

“Harry,” Hermione whispered, “Are you going to want to continue today? I don’t want to push into
something you might not want to do yet.” Harry raised an eyebrow, giving her a quizzical look.
“Well, I mean not again.”

Harry thought about it as he finished his hot chocolate.

“Might as well,” he said finally. “Like you said, its something I’ve got to do, and the sooner I
do it, the better I’ll feel, I think.”

Hermione smiled at him, and gave him a small hug.

“Don’t forget, I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

They got up and walked over to the grown ups, who stopped talking as they reached them.

“Ready to go then?” Tonks asked.

“Yeah,” Harry answered. He turned over to face the Diggory’s. “I’m very sorry for loss, and I
thank you for allowing me to come by to pay my respects.”

“Harry,” Mrs. Diggory started, “Like I told you that day in Hogwarts, we don’t blame you. We
were more than happy to do this, not just for you, but for us as well. We will all miss Cedric, but
those that die never leave us. They are simply waiting for us in the next life. They are waiting
patiently for us, for the longer we make them wait, the happier they’ll be, remember that.”

Harry nodded in acknowledgement, thanked them again and turned to Tonks.

“Let’s go.”

She took out a 5 inch chain link from her cloak and motioned them closer.

“Impervios, Impervios. That should keep your clothes dry at least. It looks like the storm is
about to break out, and where we are going, well, it’s better if you stay dry.”

They took hold of the chain and portkeyed away from the Diggory’s home.

----------------------------

They landed on a puddle of muddy water. Rain was pouring and visibility was low.

“Not one of my best landings,” Tonks yelled through the rain. “Hermione, take the path to the
left, there, at the end, you’ll find it.”

Hermione nodded to her and grabbed Harry’s hand, leading him behind her. He didn’t know where
they were until he saw a row of tombstones to his right and heard ocean waves crashing in the
distance.

“We’re in the Sacrosanctum Albion Sepulcretum, that’s Latin for Sacred Cemetery of Great
Britain, the oldest wizarding cemetery in all Europe. All the old families bury their family
members here.”

Harry saw that it was in fact a wizarding cemetery given that some gravestones had moving stone
animals on top of them or enchanted flowers. Others even had impervious charms placed on them.

The walk was difficult due to the mud and small rivers that were made along the path. Up ahead,
the trail broke off into two. Each of them had what appeared to be a menacing steel looking archway
over it. The one on the left was made of pure silver, and had moving metallic snakes all around it.
As they approached it, a large snake rose to look down on them. Harry could see that they weren’t
real, but they reminded him of the ones he saw in the Chamber of Secrets. The snake looked at Harry
and nodded, then tuned to Hermione and shook its head. The meaning was simple, he could enter, she
could not.

“This is path leads to where many pure-blooded families are buried, families like the Malfoys
and the Blacks.” Hermione mentioned. “As you know, Sirius ran away from home when he was sixteen,
so he’s not buried there, not that he wanted to. Dumbledore told me there was only one place where
he would like to be buried.”

Harry wanted to ask her where she knew all this from, but decided not to because she had
probably come across it in a book. The rest, he figured, Dumbledore had told her. She moved towards
the other archway. This one had a golden glow, warmth coming from its golden bars. It had runes
carved all over it, and at the top was golden lion, sitting down on his hind legs, looking proudly
towards the passageway. He looked down at Hermione as she approached him. He nodded to her,
allowing her to enter, when something curious happened. As the lion turned to look at Harry, it
immediately rose up in attention, and then bowed to him in a very formal, ceremonial manner. Harry
was confused as to the meaning of it. Hermione stepped back, grabbed his hand, and pulled him
through the archway.

“Why did that lion just bow to me?”

“I don’t know,” she said, looking lost in thought.

They stood now before a red tiled wall. Written in golden lettering on each tile was a surname.
Hermione reached out and touched one that simply read POTTER. The wall broke off to the sides,
granting them access, but the tile reading POTTER was still floating in front of them. It began to
glow, illuminating the trail around them, as it began to glide down the path. They followed in
silence with the anticipation of what was coming. In the end of a long row, they found that this
area looked to be newer. That’s where he saw it. In the distance, contrasting all the other formal,
royal-looking tombstones, was a gray granite rock the same height as them. The carvings were rough
but legible in the light.

Here lies

Sirius Black

Loyal Friend,

Loving Godfather

Harry completely broke down as he fell to his knees. He thought he was prepared for this,
apparently he wasn’t.

Hermione knew he was crying his heart out, even though she could barely hear his cries over the
howling winds. She wanted to go up to him, to hug and comfort him, but she knew she had to give him
some space. So, she stood there behind him, crying on her own for both Harry and Sirius.

Harry started to remember the images he had seen at the beginning of the summer but quickly
tuned them out. He imagined the Sirius he grew to love as a parent, standing in front of him,
looking down at him with a small smile. He tried several times to speak, but as his mouth moved,
nothing came out. He closed eyes, gulped, and tried again.

“Sirius, when I had just realized that you died, I was angry with you. I was angry, because I
felt you left me, here, alone.”

Harry paused as he looked over his shoulder at Hermione and reminded himself that he was
anything but alone. He took a deep breath and stopped crying.

“With the Diggorys’ help, and especially Hermione’s, I’m trying to understand, to grieve. I felt
so lonely when I realized you were gone, but now I feel that you and my parents had something to do
with her coming to my rescue. I never knew my parents. I mean, I know of them, I know they loved
me, I just can’t remember any of the good times. From you, I got so much in the little time we
spent together. You understood me. You never talked down to me or treated me like a child. We were
friends, best friends. I could talk to you or ask you about anything without feeling foolish or
embarrassed about it.”

He turned to look over his shoulder at Hermione again.

“In fact, I could really use some advice from you right now. Cedric’s father told me to
remember, to treasure what I had learned from those that were now gone, and, like Mrs. Diggory
said, I’ll see you, my parents, Cedric, and everyone else someday, but not yet. I will learn from
my mistakes. I will always remember you. I want you to know that I feel that soon I’ll be mentally
ready to prepare myself for this fight. You gave up so much for me, I can only try to carry on in
your place. I will miss your barking laugh, and your mischievous grins. I will miss you most of
all. You kept your end of the deal as my guardian. I love you. Goodbye, for now.”

Harry again felt the grip of the hand around his heart loosen a bit more.

----------------

Just as Harry finished, a lightning bolt flashed in the heavens illuminating the graves that
were beside Sirius’. He knew whose they were, so he slowly walked over to them with less fear and
more determination. Harry found the headstones to be, just like the others around them, formal and
royal looking.

R.I.P R.I.P.

Lily Potter James Potter

1960 – 1981 1960 – 1981

Beloved Wife and Mother Beloved Husband and Father

“Mum, Dad,” he began turning to each tombstone, “I know we left a lot of things unsaid, but now
I’m beginning to feel, to understand what love really is. I always imagined what it was like to be
loved by someone so much that you would do anything for them. What it was like to be loved by a
parent, a guardian, someone who loves you for you. I guess you could say I’m a slow learner since
it only took me about sixteen years to do it. Well, better late than never, I guess.”

He walked closer to the graves, having one at each side of him.

“Mum,” he reached out and put his left hand on top of her tombstone, “I hope I grow up to be
worth your sacrifice. I now know that you could have just stood aside, but you didn’t. You
willingly gave your life for me, and, in doing so, your love saved me. I’ll work hard to become the
son you always wanted me to be, to experience the love you felt for me.”

He turned his gaze over to his father’s grave.

“Dad, you also gave up your life for me. You dueled with Voldemort, knowing in the back of your
mind that you couldn’t win. Knowing that, you still rapidly stepped forward, blocking his way,
delaying him, trying to give Mum and me time to escape. I know how brave you were, and I’ll
remember it when I feel my courage failing. I wish I can be just as brave as you were when my time
to face him comes. Maybe, someday, when this war is over, I might even have a family of my own, and
care and provide for them just as you did.” He moved his right hand and placed it on his father’s
tombstone.

Immediately after Harry placed his hand on his father headstone, a huge lightning bolt came down
from the heavens. It stopped and inch from Harry’s head and created a dome of light, circling Harry
and his parents’ graves. Everything went quiet, even the rain could not see seen or heard. It was
then he heard a voice he knew it was impossible to be hearing.

“Harry,” it was his father. “Harry, don’t be frightened. If you are listening to me now, it
means that the worst has happened, and all my efforts to prevent it were in vain. I could not leave
to next world without leaving you a message, a message that only you could open, that only you
could hear, and that no one could know about. There are secrets that are a part of a family, which
should remain in the family. I don’t know how long it’s been since I died or what has happened to
you. I can only try to make sure you have all the weapons you can at your disposal, just in case
this prophecy is actually true. If you haven’t heard of the prophecy, ask Sirius or Albus
Dumbledore, you should hopefully know who they are by now, if not, well, all in due time. Now, pay
attention, Harry, because this is very important. I can only hope that you know about enough things
to understand what I’m about to tell you. We, that is to say you and I, as those before me, are
direct descendents of Godric Gryffindor. He had many talents that he wanted to pass on to those in
his bloodline, however, he knew that as the generations passed, less of those talents would be
found in his descendents. In order to prevent this, he gave each of his three children a ring. This
ring he ordered for them to pass down, in secret to the first born male of each family.”

Harry felt a tickle in his right hand and was shocked as he saw a simple gold band appear in his
right ring finger.

“The ring was charmed to look for the Gryffindor inside its user and extract it. Fortunately,
the ring only worked for those in our family, and because of the complexity of the charm placed on
them, it worked only for the first born male. Godric called in a favor from an ancient order of
wizards. He asked them to become the guides of those of his descendents that could unlock the power
within them. Now, you must know, none of our most recent ancestors have been able to do it. Your
grandfather searched through all of the historical records he could find to figure out if anyone of
us ever succeeded. None have ever done so. He also told me that I was the last. Of all the
Gryffindor descendents, I was the only one left. He believed that the power of the other rings had
passed to our ring, which might help unlock the power inside us. Neither he nor I could do it. I
can only hope that you can succeed where we have failed. You probably have many questions, but
don’t worry, the answers will find you. Know this, successful or not, you must pass this ring on to
your first born male child upon his graduation from Hogwarts. If something should happen and you
have produced and heir, don’t worry, the ring will find him, just as it found you. My son, I want
you to know that your mother and I love you very much. Don’t walk around scared of death, it is an
inescapable part of life. Don’t fear death, fear the unlived life. Live, Love, cherish every
moment. We will always be proud of you, and we will never really leave you. We’ll be with you in
spirit, always and forever. May our love give you comfort in the darkest of places, and may it also
help you to overcome any obstacle that you might face.”

The dome of light disappeared, to all those around, nothing had happened. Harry started walking
forward. He had too many things in his mind, to many things to digest.

-------------------

The curandero closed his eyes and smiled again. He knew it was almost time to embark on his
journey.

“The sun has crept into the cave; soon the lion will need his guide. Soon, he must begin to
remember his past and be ready for his future.”

He stood up, waved his hand over the fire and it disappeared. He bowed his head, and as the
winds dispersed the smoke that remained, he vanished.

--------------------

Harry found himself to be standing on the edge of cliff that looked over the sea crashing into
the rocks below. He enjoyed being back in the rain. It was no longer fierce and menacing; it was
but a light breeze washing over him. On the horizon he could see clearer skies, the sun peeking its
head below the clouds, beginning to set.

“Wow,” he thought, “before nobody would tell me anything. Now in a month’s time I’m told I am
Voldemort’s nemesis, his would be executioner, and now that I’m the last descendent of none other
than Godric Gryffindor.”

He looked up at the sky.

“No pressure, right?”

He had no idea how long he had been watching the clouds moving in the sky, clearing away the
darkness. He felt Hermione standing beside him, staring off into the horizon. She could feel his
gaze.

“Knut for your thoughts?” she asked, without looking at him.

“They’re worth a bit more than that,” he responded cheekily.

“How are you feeling?” she asked timidly.

“I have a lot on my mind, but definitely better. I owe that to one person only,” he said,
turning to look at her. When she turned to look at him, he continued, “I only hope Hedwig accepts
an owl treat for it.”

“Well, I’m sure she will,” she remarked looking off again.

Harry thought she looked quite adorable when she was pouting. He sneaked around behind her and
put his arms around her waist.

“Now, that old business is settled, it’s time for new business,” he whispered in her ear.

She turned to look at him with a questioning look. He put his hand on her cheek and caressed it
softly. She closed her eyes enjoying his touch. He closed his eyes and moved his face towards hers,
slowly. Just as he could feel her breath over his lips he was stopped.

“Don’t,” she muttered, “don’t do it unless…” she looked into his life-filled eyes, “don’t do it
unless you mean it. I don’t want you to feel that you owe me something for helping you through
this. What I said before, I meant it, but don’t think that because of that you should feel the same
way. I mean, there are so many beautiful girls at Hogwarts that you could be with. I mean, Cho’s
not the only one out there who likes you. I could ask Parvati or Lavender about it, they know about
all the rumors at Hogwarts. They’re both beautiful and I’m sure Parvati would like to go out with
you again. I know that I…”

Harry cut her off by moving in and kissing her tenderly. Hermione was shocked at first, but the
feeling she felt as she kissed him surged through her body. She could feel all of Harry’s emotions
as they deepened their kiss, delicately touching, exploring the insides of their mouths. They broke
off slowly, still being face to face.

“Well, what do you think? Do you think I meant it?”

“Well, um, I…”

He kissed her again. There, silhouetted by the orange rays of the setting sun falling behind
them, they kissed slowly, lovingly, both wanting to experience their first kisses totally,
committing them to memory. They broke off again, and Harry rested his forehead against hers.

“How about now?” he asked.

Hermione was unable to speak so she smiled and him and snuggled up against him.

“Let’s go home,” she said a moment later.

He took her hand in his and walked slowly back towards Tonks, who had an enormous smile
plastered on her face.

“I trust everything went accordingly,” she said looking at each them. They both blushed at the
comment. “Well grab on, then,” she said holding out a rubber chicken.

They looked at her skeptically, but said nothing as they grabbed on and were transported back to
Privet Drive.

**A/N: I took the quote of “Do not fear death, fear the unlived life,” from Tuck Everlasting.
Also, curandero is Spanish for Medicine Man. Please read and review.**



3. Picking Up the Pieces
------------------------

**A/N: I just wanted to take a moment to give a huge THANK YOU to everyone that reviewed. You
guys ROCK! I was a bit uneasy with how everyone would react to the last chapter, but the responses
I got blew me away. =) Please keep R&R, it lets me know whether or not you’re liking where I’m
taking the story. Last, but certainly not least, a BIG thanks to my BETA’s.**

Harry Potter and the Rousing of the Lion

Chapter 3 – Picking Up the Pieces

Harry and Hermione were talking happily in the kitchen back in Privet Drive. They were surprised
to find an empty house upon their return. They were shocked even further when they spotted a letter
that Aunt Petunia had left taped on the kitchen door.

*Harry,*

*After what happened, I decided it was prudent to take Vernon on a rather long holiday. Safe
to say, we won’t be back until September. God knows he needs the rest and, well, less stressful
surroundings. I don’t want to have a repeat of what happened, so it’s best if he doesn’t see you
for a while.*

*I left you a key on the kitchen table and enough food to last you until you go back to
school. As for the company you might want to keep, I advise you against staying in the house with
only your “friend” for company. I warn you, I will not tolerate any “funny” business in my
house.*

*Lock everything when you leave.*

*-Aunt Petunia*

Harry felt happy, scared, and nervous all at the same time. While he was happy about not seeing
any Dursleys for the rest of the summer, he was scared and nervous to having a whole house for him
and Hermione. One thing was for sure, he thought, things were starting to look up. Unfortunately,
Hermione had different plans.

“Come on, Harry,” she began after finishing her tea, “we’re dating now. Do you really think you
could handle being alone with only me for company?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I can handle anything, as long as you are with me.”

“That’s sweet, but I know I couldn’t.”

He gave her a puzzled look.

“Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing more that I would like to do than to spend time with you,
to kiss you.”

He got up, and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Oh, really?” They kissed passionately, each one being a little more daring with their
movements, but still to shy to do anything big.

“You see, if we stay here alone all we’ll do is snog…”

He gave her a look that asked if there was anything wrong with that.

“…and while I say that I like kissing you, I don’t want to move things too quickly…”

He knew she was right. He just found her, a person who understood the real him, not the hype. He
was beginning to fall deeply in love with her. The last thing he wanted to do was to loose her.

“…you understand, don’t you?” she finished quietly, looking down at the floor, unsure of his
response. “I know you’ll think it’s old fashioned or something. I know some that girls in my year,
or even younger ones, are doing way more than just kissing…”

“Hermione…”

“…I mean, times change, I realize that…”

“Hermione…”

“…and Cho, well, I’ve heard of some things she does, so I would understand if…”

Harry couldn’t take her ramblings anymore. He bent down and planted his lips firmly on hers. She
tried to keep talking for a second, when she realized he was kissing her. When he pulled back she
was looking out of breath, but confused.

“Sorry, you were rambling.”

He could see she was beginning to get teary eyed.

“Hermione, I’ve only just found you.”

“What do you mean? We’ve known each other for five years.”

He bent down and kissed her. She took the hint.

“Oh, right.”

He hugged her close to him, and spoke gently into her ear.

“Hermione, you don’t know what it is about you that amazes me so much, so I’ll tell you a few of
those qualities that I love. Let’s start with what anybody but you can see. You’re beautiful. I
love the way you smile at me, that mischievous sexy smile of yours. You’ve become a gorgeous,
elegant, attractive woman. Your passion for knowledge is inviting, and although I usually avoid it,
you still make me want to try harder. I love the look on your face when you’re presented with a new
challenge, you can see the fire in your eyes. The way you are always sticking up for people, like
in S.P.E.W., not spew. You’re intelligent, witty, driven, passionate and loving. As for Cho, she
could only wish to become half the person you are.”

“Harry…” she whimpered.

“No, listen. I love you, Hermione, each minute I feel it even more. I’m a fool for having taken
this long to have realized it. I couldn’t bear it if I lost you, if I couldn’t be with you. The
last thing I would ever want to do is hurt you, and I won’t let a simple thing like stupid teenage
hormones do anything to hurt us. We will go slow, enjoying every minute of it.”

He rubbed his hand across her back gently, soothingly.

“Now that I think about it, we’ve better. I don’t really think I know what I’m doing.”

She laughed softly at his attempt to lighten the mood, tears slowly falling down her cheeks.

“Hey, what are these tears for?”

“They’re because you’re the most understanding boy I know.”

She hugged him tightly, as if afraid he was leaving her, as she cried into his chest.

“Man, Hermione, not boy, man. I think all the crying I’ve done in front of you has made me lose
some of my Machoness.”

She smiled at him as he removed her tears with his thumbs.

“That’s the smile that I love. Now, why don’t you call your parents to come pick you up?”

“But what about you, you don’t think I’m going to let you stay here all by yourself, do
you?”

“No, I figured as much. That’s why I’m going to write to Remus. Let’s just say that he and I
have a lot of things to talk about.

------------------------------

Harry knew that to get back on track, he needed to go back normal, to everything he had
neglected since the beginning of the summer. He had loads of schoolwork to do, but first he needed
to apologize to those he had ignored. For some reason, Remus seemed like the first logical choice
since he had suffered a loss that Harry could relate to.

*Dear Remus,*

*I know that by saying that I haven’t been receptive or welcoming since it happened, I’m
making major understatement. I realize now that shutting out the people that care about me was the
stupidest thing I could have done. It was selfish of me not to consider that you were coping with
death of your best friend.*

*I think we should talk, face to face. There are things that need to be said in order for us
to move forward.*

*Hope you’re well.*

*- Harry*

As he finished the letter he hoped that Remus wasn’t to angry with him. He knew he had been a
prat, but what was done was done. He wanted to talk to him tonight since Hermione would be leaving
soon, so he sent Hedwig out with instructions to fly as fast as she could. He sat there for a
moment, watching her fly out the kitchen window. He sighed deeply and turned to the next blank
piece of parchment that was in front of him. His next letter wasn’t any easier to write than the
last one.

*Ron-*

*How you doing, mate? Stupid question, really. You must be two seconds away from coming here
and punching my lights out for the way I’ve been acting. You have every right to be pissed with me.
You can say it, by the way, I’m the worlds biggest PRAT! I’m really sorry that I shut you out, you
being my best mate and all.*

*I know it’s a long shot, but would you like to come and visit me at Privet Drive? The
Dursleys left me the house for the summer. I’ll explain later. Anyway, I know you’re mad at me, at
least I know I would be, so if you still want to talk to me, feel free to come deck me.*

*Hope everyone is doing fine. Tell your mom I’m sorry, and that she shouldn’t be angry with
Hermione, she’ll understand.*

*- Harry*

Harry felt no particular satisfaction or comfort with his pathetic attempt at an apology letter
as he reread it at an arms length. He tensed up as he felt someone standing behind him, but relaxed
quickly when he sensed it was Hermione.

“What do you think?” he said, handing her the letter over his head without looking at her.

“How did you know I was standing behind you?”

“I don’t know,” he took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes, “I kind of felt you behind me or
something, first I felt someone, then I knew it was you. Well?” he asked again.

“Not the best apology letter in the world, but considering who it’s coming from and who it’s
going to, it should do,” she answered.

“Thanks, I think. What time are your parents picking you up?”

“They almost didn’t, considering it’s like 10 p.m., but when my dad heard that we were all alone
in the house with no chaperone, he bolted out the door in his bathrobe. He should be here in about
two hours.”

“Tell you what, I’ll make us a late night snack while we wait for your dad.”

---------------

They were sitting in the living room enjoying each other’s company. She had her head on his
shoulder, their hands intertwined, both pretending to avoid the silence with the pretense of
watching the telly.

“You wouldn’t happen to still have that time turner, would you?” he asked.

“No, why?”

“Because I don’t want this moment to end.”

“Oh, Harry,” she leaned over to kiss him. They both fell back on the couch, Hermione lying on
top of Harry.

“Since when did you become the romantic type?”

“Don’t know really. I guess you just bring out the best in me.”

“Good answer,” and she kissed him again, each time deepening their kiss further.

If they hadn’t been snogging, they would have a CRACK just outside the house.

They were alarmed when there was a short, loud knock on the door. Hermione had been so surprised
that she accidentally pushed Harry back, causing him to fall on the floor.

“Ouch! You know, Hermione, you’ve really got stop doing that.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just that, well, um…” she was completely startled and flushed, “just tell my
dad I’ll be there in a second,” and she rushed off to the bathroom upstairs to fix her hair.

Harry rearranged his glasses on his face, patted his hair down a bit and took a deep breath
before opening the door.

“Good evening, Mr. Granger, Hermione just went…” it wasn’t Mr. Granger standing there on the
doorway, but

“Remus!”

“Hello there, Harry, nice to see you.”

“You got here quick.”

“Well, I thought it was as a good as time as any to come see you, I missed you, you know.”

Harry had an odd feeling about the conversation. Remus didn’t usually act so formal in front of
him, and he was incredibly happy about something, relieved even. Harry looked at him and stared, he
was smiling down at him, as if there weren’t a care in the world. He could see he was getting
nervous about something.

“Stupefy!”

Harry only had time open his mouth as the jet of red light hit him squarely on the chest and
sent him flying across the hall.

“Surprising, he almost figured it out,” the man posing as Remus walked up to the boy laying on
the floor and pointed his wand at him, just as Hermione was coming down the stairs. She saw the
scene before her, and leaving all logic and reason behind she leapt over the railing, falling feet
first over the assailant.

The fake Remus was taken completely by surprise. He got up quickly, looking for his wand, only
to find it pointed at him by Hermione, with a panicked but determined look on her face.

“Oh, bravo, Ms. Granger, you’ll get extra points for that.”

She turned over to the doorway to find none other than Mad-Eye Moody walking over her, the dull
clunk heard every other step.

“Pulled one over you, didn’t she, Tonks?”

“Tonks?” Hermione said questioningly as she witnessed Remus turn into Tonks.

“What the HELL is going on here?” she screamed.

“Relax there Hermione, Mad-Eye wanted to test Harry.”

“Test, what do you mean? You just blasted Harry across the damn hall. No, don’t you dare move
until you tell me something understandable and believable. I still don’t think you are who you say
you are.”

“I’m liking her more already, a constant vigilant, this one,” Moody stated, smiling at her.

“Hermione, I accompanied you earlier to visit the graves to help Harry.”

“Yeah, so? It that doesn’t tell me anything.”

“Ok, fine. We took Harry away from here last year by broom.”

“Anyone could know that, where did you take him?”

“To Number 12, Grimmauld Place, the home of his now late godfather, Sirius Black,” she lowered
her tone so her voice could only be heard by Hermione, “the headquarters of the Order of the
Phoenix.”

Hermione breathed a long, comforting breath and lowered her wand.

“He won’t be happy about this.”

“It’s not about keeping him happy,” Moody stated, “it’s about keeping him alive.”

“Wrong,” Hermione spat at him, “that’s what caused his depression and his implosion this summer.
Help him, train him, but don’t lose sight that he’s still just a boy. He deserves to enjoy himself,
even with a madman on the loose behind him.”

“Are you sure you’re sixteen?” Tonks asked, smiling at her, “I swear you’ve really thought about
all this like an adult.”

“Well, somebody’s got to do it, the adults in his life don’t seem to want to do that. All they
want is for him to save the world, even at the cost of his life.”

There was a long silence after her words. Tonks and Moody shifted uncomfortably, knowing it
would be wrong to argue with someone who obviously loved Harry so much. They also knew that there
was truth in her words.

Hermione tossed Tonks her wand.

“Revive him,” she knew she was being rude, that they were looking out for Harry, that they
needed to help train him. She just didn’t care about it at the moment. She had anticipated
something like this happening, Order members coming to help Harry. She just considered it tactless
of them to spring this on Harry the same evening of the day he was starting to get back on
track.

“The enemy waits for no one,” Moody said, as if reading her thoughts.

“What good is Harry to you if he has no will to live, no strength to fight?” she answered
back.

A car pulled up just as Harry came around.

“What happened? Where’s Remus? Why did he stun me? Who was he?” he asked Hermione.

She helped him up to his feet, and hugged him closely.

“I’ll them explain everything to you and apologize. Dad’s here, and he’s probably tired from the
drive, best not keep him waiting. I love you, and I’ll call you tomorrow to get started on the rest
of your things.”

She gave him a quick kiss and left out the open door without glancing at either Moody or
Tonks.

“Ok, what happened, and why is Hermione extremely angry with you?”

“Let’s adjourn to the kitchen shall we,” Tonks said. “It’s going to be a long conversation.”

Moody closed the door and mumbled to himself something like “Trusting fool, I should have
stunned him again so he’d learn.” Harry didn’t hear any of it as he followed Tonks towards the
kitchen.

Across the street, hidden in the shadows, the curandero watched the whole scene unfold. He
smiled to himself and spoke one word into the darkness, “Soon,” as he disappeared quietly into the
night.

----------------------------

Harry, Moody and Tonks were sitting on the kitchen table. They had just told him everything that
had happened. Moody even mentioned how he had failed his test miserably.

“I didn’t know, alright,” Harry said defensively, “I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.”

“Oh, really? Tell me, do you expect Voldemort or his Death Eaters to send you an owl before they
attack you?” Moody asked, quite annoyed at Harry’s attitude.

“Ease up there, Moody,” Tonks interjected. “You see, Harry, in the past war, the Death Eaters
had many ways of succeeding, one of which was extracting information by becoming someone they
weren’t. That and the imperious curse gave them a lot of information. While some are more paranoid
about it than others,” she mentioned, looking over at Moody, “it’s always good to be on your
guard.”

“You have a lot to learn, Potter, and now that you seem to be getting your wits back, I’m going
to be drilling you. Dumbledore thinks that it’s best to wait until you go back to Hogwarts,” Harry
looked up, happy to side with Dumbledore, “I, on the other hand, refuse to wait. Like I told your
friend, the enemy waits for no one.”

His magical eye swiveled in its socket to look out the back of his head.

“I can see Remus is here, so I’ll be off. You have until your birthday before we begin; after
that, you’re mine,” he smiled menacingly at Harry, then turned and left.

Tonks began to collect the dishes as Remus walked into the room. He usually looked tired, but
now he felt worn, drained even. Tonks placed a fresh pot of tea and some biscuits in front of
them.

“Well, I’ll leave you lads to it,” she said goodbye to both and left, leaving Harry and Remus
staring at each other. They stared at each for a long time until Harry bent his head down.

“I’m sorry,” he began. “I know you were hurting also and needed me to be there to fight through
it together, but I just ignored you.”

“I’m sorry, too, Harry,” Remus responded, “I was too concerned about my grief that I failed to
see how much it was destroying you. When Hermione’s owl came, I went for the door immediately, but
Dumbledore stopped me. He told me it would be better for you if you were accompanied by someone
else. I refused, but in the end, they got their way. Later, I realized they were right.”

His voiced cracked a bit, showing how difficult it was for him to be saying all of this.

“It been hard,” he continued, “trying to take over for Sirius.”

“Remus, I…”

“I know that I can never replace him.”

“It’s not that,” Remus looked up to look at Harry. “Right now, I don’t need a guardian, I need a
friend. I need someone who is older, wiser. Someone who will be there for me, who listens to
anything stupid I might say, and who will treat me as an equal.”

“If it’s OK with you, I would like to try out for that spot.”

“It’s yours, if you want it.”

Remus got up and gave Harry a strong, fatherly hug. The awkwardness was gone. Their three year
friendship was back, and Harry was feeling excited about having him around. They didn’t lose time
catching up.

“So, tell me, what going on between you and Hermione?”

Harry was surprised by the question but began to tell him all about them. Remus laughed at some
of Harry’s questions.

“You’re not supposed to be laughing about this,” he said, although he was laughing himself.

“Sorry, it’s just that Sirius and James were the ladies men. I guess that my advice would be to
take things slowly. You don’t want to push her or yourself into something you aren’t ready for. Not
much help, I know, but believe me, in the end it’s worth the wait. After all, the adventure is in
the journey. It’s like when you travel. Some people like to apparate everywhere. Its fast and easy,
but when you have time, no hurry, the landscapes and the sights that you can bear witness to make
the journey worth while.”

------------------

Harry woke up peacefully in his bed. He missed the company he was getting used to having, but
after everything Remus had mentioned, he was in no hurry. As he remembered everything that happened
yesterday, he found a clear blue sky, inviting him back from the shadows. He got up quickly and
went to the bathroom to get washed and changed. He went down to find the smell of bacon and eggs
emerging from the kitchen.

“Well good morning, sleepy head,” Remus welcomed him.

Harry laughed heartily at the sight of him. He was wearing his usual shabby clothes, with Aunt
Petunia’s pink rabbit slippers, a flower patterned bib, and a tall chef’s hat.

“Well, what did you expect? I’ve been up since the crack of dawn, I had to entertain myself with
something,” he said, joining Harry in his laughter. “So, what are your plans for today?”

“Well, let’s see I have a lot of letters that I should answer from people I neglected. I should
also review my O.W.L. results and send Professor McGonagall my chosen subjects. Then there’s a
formal looking scroll from the Black Family Trust which I should look at. I also should go buy some
clothes that are my size, for once.”

Remus looked at him with a shocked expression. “You just thought about all that?”

“No,” he said, starting to laugh as he pulled a piece of parchment from his jeans, “Hermione
left me a To-Do List pinned to my bedroom door,” they both laughed heartily at her thoughtfulness,
“I’m just lucky she didn’t give each activity a due date.”

-------------------------

Ron was outside, lying down on the soft grass, treating his sore muscles after an afternoon of
de-gnoming the garden by himself. When he came back home, he found out that this chore was now
exclusively his. He wasn’t too pleased with his mother’s arguments on the subject.

“All you brothers work now,” Mrs. Weasley had said, “since you’re the only one not working, your
work is around the house.”

“But what about Ginny?” he retorted. “She should have more chores as well.”

“Ginny helps out around the house in different ways, Ron. Besides, de-gnoming is not is not work
for girls.”

Ron was still mulling over everything that had happened since he came back home. He was
surprised to be coming back home and not to Grimmauld Place. His father said the house had refused
entrance to anyone, including Dumbledore. It had something to do with the owner allowing it to.
While happy at first to be looking at a full summer at home, his happiness was short lived. He had
sent Harry letter every so often, each of them unanswered. He knew, of course, that Harry would be
having a rough time dealing with Sirius’s death. He just wasn’t expecting his best friend to shut
him out.

He tried to find comfort in Hermione, his other best friend, never really finding it. Every
letter they had exchanged had been on Harry. What to do, how to help, those kinds of things. He
found himself being putout finding her responses to dealing with Harry longer than her responses to
anything else. He had invited her over to the Burrow to spend some time together, which she
refused.

“Can’t we talk about anything that’s not related to Harry?” he said to himself as he got up and
walked over to the trees nearby.

He sat down at the foot of a large oak tree, his back towards his house. In his reeling about
his friends being “too busy” for him, he had taken to smoking. Fred and George had said that
smoking from a pipe usually helped put things into perspective. Scared about their knowledge of
those matters, and after being their guinea pig for their new Long-lasting Smoke Ring Tobacco, he
found himself always sitting in the same spot, smoking, wondering, his insecurities making him
doubt if his friends even thought about him anymore. He didn’t really like the smell or the taste
of what he was smoking, he just found himself doing it for a lack of something better to do. With
more chores and not seeing his friends, he was startled to find himself wishing school would start
sooner.

He was brought away from his thought by the screeching of an owl. He looked up to find Hedwig
flying down towards him. As soon as he had removed the letter from her foot, she flew off hooting
towards him in disapproval of how he smelled. Ron shrugged it off and looked down at the letter in
his hand. At first he was excited to finally be getting a letter from Harry, but as he stared at
his name written in Harry’s untidy scrawl, he found his thoughts creeping up behind him.

“Why should I open this, when he has ignored me all this time?”

He thought about ripping it apart, but remembered everything his friend was probably going
through.

“You’d better have a good reason for what you did, Harry,” he said to himself as he sat down to
read the letter.

-----------------------------

Harry and Remus were in the living room, staring at the pile of letters that they had brought
down from Harry’s room. Harry tried to postpone doing anything until later, but Remus gave him a
few chosen words to make him think otherwise.

“Just think what Hermione will do or say to you when she comes by and finds that you haven’t
even started.”

He was right. He was now in a relationship with her, he didn’t want to hear her tell him how
disappointed she was in him or how he always procrastinated everything.

“Don’t leave for tomorrow what you can finish today,” he remembered the homework diary she had
given him.

“Where do you think I should start?” he asked Remus.

“Well I would suggest with your O.W.L.’s, you don’t want Professor McGonagall hounding you on
which subjects you’ll be taking next year,” he stated, handing the letter to Harry.

He stared at the official-looking letter in front of him.

“Maybe I should read them to you.”

“No, I got it.”

He reached over, and pulled the letter out Remus’s hands. He took a deep breath and opened the
letter two finds to sheets of parchment inside, the first a letter explaining his results, the
other showing them.

*Dear Mr. Potter,*

*Enclosed you will find the results of your Ordinary Wizarding Level tests. Each grade is the
average of both the theoretical and practical parts of each exam. In those that only contain a
theoretical portion, your grade will be the one given.*

*The marks used to evaluate your scores are: Outstanding, Exceeds Expectations, Acceptable,
Poor, and Dreadful. The last passing grade is Acceptable.*

*Your results are found in the attached parchment.*

*Professor Griselda Marchbanks*

*Wizarding Examination Authority*

Harry turned to second parchment and read his results out loud.

*Ordinary Wizard Level results for Harry James Potter.*

*Astronomy*

*Theory: Acceptable*

*Practical: Poor*

*Mark: Poor*

*O.W.L. Received: No*

*Care of Magical Creatures*

*Theory: Exceeds Expectations*

*Practical: Outstanding*

*Mark: Exceeds Expectations*

*O.W.L. Received: Yes*

Charms

*Theory: Exceeds Expectations*

*Practical: Exceeds Expectations*

*Grade: Exceeds Expectations*

*O.W.L. Received: Yes*

*Defense Against the Dark Arts*

*Theory: Outstanding*

*Practical: Outstanding*

*Grade: Outstanding*

*O.W.L. Received: Yes*

*Divination*

*Theory: Acceptable*

*Practical: Dreadful*

*Grade: Poor*

*O.W.L. Received: No*

*Herbology*

*Theory: Acceptable*

*Practical: Exceeds Expectations*

*Grade: Exceeds Expectations*

*O.W.L. Received: Yes*

*History of Magic*

*Theory: Poor*

*Practical: NA*

*Grade: Poor*

*O.W.L. Received: No*

*Potions*

*Theory: Exceeds Expectations*

*Practical: Exceeds Expectations*

*Grade: Exceeds Expectations*

*O.W.L. Received: Yes*

*Transfiguration*

*Theory: Exceeds Expectations*

*Practical: Exceeds Expectations*

*Grade: Exceeds Expectations*

*O.W.L. Received: Yes*

*Total O.W.L.’s Received: 6*

Harry was still staring at his results.

“Good job, Harry, six O.W.L.’s,” he noticed the crestfallen look on Harry face. “What’s
wrong?”

“I didn’t get an Outstanding in Potions,” he stated blandly.

“Well, an Exceeds Expectations is still pretty good. It’s better than your father or I did.”

“No, it’s not that. I needed an Outstanding to get into N.E.W.T. Potions. Snape won’t take
anyone in without that mark. With no N.E.W.T. Potions, I can’t become an auror.”

“Oh,” he responded. Seeing the look on Harry’s face, he said “Don’t worry about it, Harry. I
doubt very much that it will matter if you want to become an auror.”

“Dammit, I don’t want any special treatments,” he yelled back, his anger rising rapidly.

“I’m sorry, Harry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he was shocked at Harry’s change in tone.

“No, I apologize,” calming down. “It’s just that, well, I don’t deserve any short cuts. I want
to earn my way just like anybody else. I don’t want anyone saying that I got any sort of special
treatment because I’m the Boy-Who-Lived or any of that. You understand, don’t you,” he finished
pleadingly.

Remus looked at him and smiled, “Of course I understand, Harry. I would expect nothing less from
you. Don’t worry about Snape, though. Seeing as how things are getting on in the world, I think all
teachers will be ‘asked’ to take in more students into their advanced classes than they usually
would. Merlin knows, some of those skills will be useful in the times to come.”

Harry thought about what he said. Personally, not having Potions would mean no more Snape, but
even though he hated him, he knew the class was important.

He turned over to Professor McGonagall’s letter.

*Dear Mr. Potter,*

*As always, term will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave from Kings
Cross station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o’clock.*

*As an upcoming sixth year, it is important that you select the classes you wish to take in
order to further your areas of interest. While some require having obtained an O.W.L. in that
class, there are also electives in which you might want to partake. You are required to choose at
least three classes. Please go over the enclosed form and select the classes you wish to take. A
letter will be sent to you telling you whether or not you have accepted into said classes and the
materials you will need for each. If you should be denied admittance to a class, your Head of House
shall suggest alternative classes to take.*

*Yours Sincerely,*

*Professor M. McGonagall*

*Deputy Headmistress*

The form was simple enough. It had a list of the available classes followed by seven lines. He
went through the list of classes until he reached some that he had never heard of. Some of those
classes were: Study of Ancient Magic, Basic Medicine, Woodshop: Wand and Broom Manufacturing,
Magical Geography: The Study of Magical Locations around the world, and many more.

After thinking about it he wrote down his classes.

Defense Against the Dark Arts
Transfiguration
Charms
Potions
Care of Magical Creatures
Study of Ancient Magic

He wasn’t sure why he wrote down the last one. He had heard Dumbledore say that Voldemort
despised ancient magic, thus his weak spot, but Harry felt something else nagging in the back of
his mind. He thought about what Hermione might say about his choices, but shrugged it of by
thinking to himself that although he wasn’t taking a full course load, something other than
Quidditch would come up. It always did. Remus looked over his shoulder at his choices.

“Excellent choices, Harry. That schedule should prove to be an interesting year.”

“With or without it, it’s always an ‘interesting’ year.”

Remus laughed at Harry’s sarcasm.

“Yeah, well, never a dull moment with you, eh?”

--------------------

Ron was still sitting against the tree; the letter was now on the ground before him. He did
apologize, he did recognize he was being an ass, even suggested physical abuse as punishment, but
that wasn’t the problem. Ever since that first day on the Hogwarts Express on their first year,
they became best friends. They were inseparable, they did everything together, well, almost
anything. For one reason or another, when Harry was feeling down, Ron could never make him feel
better.

“What kind of a friend am I if I can’t help him when he needs it?” he spoke out loud to himself.
“Sure, I’m there with him in most of his adventures, but that’s not what I mean. I’m always there
out of loyalty, but never really understanding what I’m doing. Should guys help each other with
their emotional problems? Am I gay for thinking that I should? OK, that’s a definite NO.”

He didn’t hear someone approach him from behind.

“So, Harry’s writing again?”

He turned around startled to find his younger sister looking down at him.

“How did you find me?”

“It wasn’t hard, you’re always here. Anyways, even if you didn’t, all I would have to do is to
follow that awful smell,” she finished smiling down at him. She noticed that her brother had a lot
on his mind. “Aren’t you happy that he wrote to you?” she asked, picking up the letter and skimming
through it. “He even invited you over.” Still no response from him. “OK, what’s the matter?” she
asked taking a seat in front of him.

“He’s doing better, no question about that. It’s just…”

“You feel left out because you weren’t there to help?” she finished tentatively.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“So, maybe Professor Lupin had a long chat with him and got things sorted out.”

“No, only one person can have that much effect on Harry.”

“Who?” she knew the answer, but inquired anyway.

“Hermione.”

-------------------

Harry was done writing letters to all of his friends. He was amazed at how much post he got from
Ginny, Neville and Luna. Ginny and Neville had always been friends, but never as much as to write
to him so much. Luna he had just met last year, and although strange didn’t begin to describe her,
he liked having her as a friend.

“What is it about near death experiences that bring people together,” he had thought to himself
as he finished the last letter.

He had answered each of them individually, but basically said the same thing. He thanked them
for their concern, he was feeling better now, he was glad to hear from them and they would see each
other on September first at the latest. It wasn’t much, but it was something he convinced himself.
He sent of all his post at the same time, receiving a wide-eyed expression from Hedwig. Hermione
was going to spend the next few days with her parents, so that left Harry with Remus.

He had been eyeing the scroll containing Sirius’s will all day; he just couldn’t bring himself
to open it.

“Couldn’t you open it for me?” he asked Remus in childlike way.

“No, its charmed so only you can do that. Besides, would you really want me to?”

“I hate reverse psychology.”

They moved back into the kitchen to make lunch. They made themselves a heavy, “manly”, as Remus
put it, lunch consisting of lots of different meats and greasy food. Remus placed scroll next to
Harry’s seat, which didn’t go unnoticed.

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?”

“Me, what ever gave you that idea?” he said, grinning stupidly at him.

Harry knew he was being a baby about the whole thing.

“You want to be treated like an adult, better start acting like one,” he thought to himself.

He grabbed the scroll removed the seal.

“What no sparks or pixie dust?” he asked cheekily.

“Nope, and that’s a good thing mind you.”

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black Family Trust

*Mr. Potter,*

*In accordance with the last will and testament of one Sirius Black, last of the noble Black
family, I find myself as the bearer of the Black Trust which I am instructed to present to you.
Usually I present myself to the recipient of said Trust, but following orders, I am to await your
arrival at my office, located inside the Gringotts bank within twenty four hours of your opening of
this letter. In said meeting, I will present to you everything that has been left for you, as well
as the guidelines to receive each item. I will be awaiting your arrival tomorrow, precisely at 3
o’clock in the afternoon.*

*Sincerely,*

*Ungh Kablidook*

Head of Magical Trusts and Wills & Testaments

“Looks like you’ve got to make a stop at Gringotts tomorrow. You should probably do the rest of
your shopping then. Once your training with Mad-Eye starts, you won’t get a chance.”

“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to getting my butt blasted all over the place.”

“Well it could be worse, Snape could be teaching you.”

“True, but at least I would be able to blast him back. I learned some good ones from the books
you gave me.”

“Now, that must be why he refused to teach you. Being cursed by your father was embarrassing to
him, but having his son do the same thing, well, that would just be humiliating.”

They both laughed heartily, enjoying the thought of cursing Snape all over the place.



4. The Gifts Left Behind
------------------------

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. =) To those that want the action, you have to wait a
little bit. I’m sorry, I just want to some of the emotional stuff out of the way first. Don’t worry
though, Moody and the curandero are coming soon.**

Chapter 4 – The Gifts Left Behind

Harry and Lupin were walking out of the underground into the bright sunlight of the busy streets
of downtown London. Since Harry couldn’t apparate yet, and the Dursleys' fireplace had been
disconnected from the Floo Network, Harry decided it would be fun to travel to Diagon Alley like
muggles. He was relieved to hear Remus agree with him, and also that they would travel by
themselves, which meant no Order entourage.

“We should blend easier if it's just the two of us,” Remus had mentioned.

As they were walking the rest of the way from the station to the Leaky Cauldron, Harry laughed
when he saw Remus was getting tired.

“You know, I’ll be happy when we finally make it there.”

“What happened to enjoying the journey?” Harry asked mockingly.

“I was talking in metaphors, and even then, I was referring to the emotional one.”

They arrived thirty minutes later to the shabby entrance of the pub. Once inside, they were
ushered quickly and quietly by Tom the innkeeper towards the entrance to the alley. As they walked
through, Harry couldn’t help but notice that there was something different in the atmosphere that
was usually found there. The number of customers usually found near the bar was greatly diminished,
and there were many who were seated as close to the unlit fireplaces as they could.

Outside in the alley, they were acting strangely as well. There were witches and wizards coming
and going, but none of them seemed to be stopping to talk to each other on the street. The mood was
sombre, and somehow, Harry could sense the thickness of the feeling of fear all around him.

“Remus, what’s going on?” he asked quietly. “Why is everyone acting as if they were late for an
appointment or something?”

“Well, with the confirmation by Fudge that Voldemort is indeed back, people don’t seem to want
to spend to much time outdoors. Even indoors those that can apparate act somewhat normally, but
those that can’t stay as close to fireplaces as they can in order to floo out immediately if need
be.”

“Isn’t it safe here?”

“Well, precautions have been taken to ‘ensure’ the safety of places like ‘Diagon Alley’, but
since the threat is Voldemort, well, you of all people should know there is no such thing as
absolute safety when it comes to him.”

Harry nodded, thinking of all the times at Hogwarts he was supposed to be safe and nearly died.
True, he usually walked right into danger, but it still had Voldemort behind it.

They reached the doors of Gringotts soon after. The bank was emptier than usual and the goblins
seemed to be disgruntled by it. The goblins seemed to be taking the announcement of Voldemort
seriously as well since there were now armed goblins found along the walls. They walked up to a
clerk who was writing on a huge ledger.

“Yes?” the goblin inquired.

“Mr. Potter here has an appointment with Mr. Kablidook,” Lupin answered.

“Yes, he is being expected,” the goblin leaped of his stool and motioned Harry to follow him.
When Remus followed behind Harry the goblin stopped, “the meeting is with Mr. Potter and Mr. Potter
only,” the goblin stated.

Harry looked from the goblin to Remus, unsure of what to do.

“Go ahead, Harry, I’ll wait for you here,” Remus said encouragingly.

Harry followed the goblin through the back of the main hall of the bank and stopped in front of
a steel double-door that had spikes coming out of it, with two fully armed goblins at each
side.

The goblin turned to Harry, “for security reasons, Mr. Potter, kindly sign that ledger with the
identity quill provided.”

Harry walked over to the podium with the open ledger, and looked at the quill that was there. It
was a long black quill with a very sharp point. It reminded him of the quill Umbridge had him use
to write lines while in detention, lines that were written in his own blood, and consequently
carved onto the back of his hand. Since there was no ink provided, Harry got the feeling that this
quill was similar. He took a deep breath and signed his name. He felt a small prick at the top of
his right index finger and saw his name was written in blood, his blood to be exact.

“Thank you,” the goblin said and motioned the guards to open the doors, “follow me.”

Harry sucked on his finger a bit and followed. He had expected to walk through a huge hallway,
given the size of the doors, but the tunnel they were walking through was so small that Harry was
sure that Hagrid couldn’t fit inside of it. The tunnel seemed to be very ancient, and the flicker
of light that came from the torches located along the walls gave the feeling that they were walking
into a kind of crypt.

They reached the end of tunnel, which proved to be a dead end in the shape of a circle, no more
than three meters in diameter. Harry was about to ask “now what” when he felt the floor start
moving downwards. Between the eerie sounds of the wind drafts, the rising heat that could be felt,
and snarling breathing of the goblin, Harry hugely missed the muggle elevators that provided air
conditioning and soft music. Just as he was beginning to feel sick, the platform stopped.

“This way,” the goblin said.

This tunnel was a little larger and cooler. It ended on a finely carved bronze door that read,
*Trusts, Wills, and Testaments*. As they neared the door Harry was ushered quickly into the
office. The office inside was a large room, roughly the size of the Charms classroom. There were
piles of coins and fine stones littered along the walls. There was a small desk on the left-hand
wall with a huge scale that Harry wondered how the table could hold the weight of it. The room was
illuminated by the candles sitting on a large silver chandelier that was in the middle of the roof.
At the back of the room, Harry saw a fine carved mahogany desk that sat on top of a golden carpet
that looked to be made of dragon scales. It was filled with files and rolls of parchment.

“Like what you see?”

Harry was startled by the deep voice that came from behind the desk. The goblin that had been
his escort was gone and the door was closed. The expression on the new goblin's face was old
and calculating. Harry was sure that if he asked this goblin any absurdly complicated mathematical
problem, he would get answer within seconds.

“Well?” the goblin asked again.

“Oh, um, yeah, you have a very nice office here,” Harry started and since he wasn’t sure how he
should address an obviously important goblin he finished by saying, “sir.”

The goblin eyed Harry, as if deciding if he was worth his time.

“Many wizards tend to forget that we are the best craftsmen of many things, among them gems and
metals,” the goblin began.

“I didn’t forget, given the fact that I never knew,” Harry responded quickly. He wasn’t sure
what the goblin was getting at, by he didn’t like the tone he was being spoken to with. Not wanting
to anger the goblin he added, “As such, I didn’t mean to be rude and stare at your belongings.”

The goblin's expression turned into a menacing grin, exposing some rather sharp teeth.

“Well, well, Mr. Potter, aren’t you just full of surprises.”

“How do you mean?”

“For starters, many wizards, even those who are abysmally challenged in regards to their magical
gift, tend to treat us like inferior beings. Others, who for some reason consider themselves to be
of some level of importance tend to treat us worse than they treat their house elves. And here you
are, the one rumoured to be the worlds saviour from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, yet you behave
yourself in a respectful manner, you apologize for something you did and even had the courtesy of
calling me ‘sir’. Its not often that wizards give me such treatment. Although,” the goblin reached
for a rather thick file that was on his desk and opened it, “given who your parents were, I
shouldn’t have been surprised at all.” The goblin stood up from his chair and gave him a small bow,
“I’m Ungh Kablidook, at your service.”

Harry was at a loss for words after this speech.

“Oh, pleased to meet you.”

“So, let us get straight to business.” Kablidook didn’t wait for a comment from Harry and began
talking as he turned the pages in the file before him. “Today we will discuss not only the assets
that were left for you by the late Sirius Black, but also those that were left behind by your
parents.” He stopped shuffling through the pages in front of him and looked at the confused
expression on Harry’s face. “Something wrong, Mr. Potter?”

“Um, well, I,” Harry didn’t know how to convey his surprise, “it's just that I thought I had
received everything there was from my parents.”

The goblin saw that Harry had no clue as to how things like wills worked, so he took a deep
breath and began explaining.

“You see Mr. Potter, when somebody makes a will, they can also leave express instructions as to
how their belongings are to be distributed. For example, you were to receive the key to vault #687
on your eleventh birthday.”

Harry remembered Hagrid giving him the key to his vault when he picked him up from the
Dursleys'. He started to feel the pain of loosing his parents again, but an egging curiosity
made him ask, “So, what else did they leave me?”

Kablidook stared at him again, giving Harry the feeling that he was deciding whether or not he
was worthy of such information.

“Let’s see here,” he shuffled back through some sheets of parchment until he found the one he
was looking for, “The will left behind by your parents reads:

‘*The estate of one James Potter and wife Lily Evans leaves behind all of its properties and
vaults adhered to their name to their son Harry James Potter. As per instructions to his receiving
these items the following must be met in order for him to receive each item. He is to receive the
key to vault #687 upon his becoming of the age of eleven, which should provide him with enough
currency to be able to buy anything he should need on his attendance to Hogwarts School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry. When he should come of age, he is to receive the key vault #1012, with the
approval of him passing the first spherical test. Upon his marriage, he is to receive cottage
number 7 located in Godric’s Hollow. Should he pass all three spherical tests, he should then
receive*…’

Well, that’s the basic idea. We are left with the guardianship of said items and distribute them
in accordance to the instructions we were given.”

“What was that last part?”

“That, Mr. Potter, you will learn when you come of age and pass the spherical tests.”

“And what are those?”

“That you will learn when you come of age.”

Harry was getting angry and annoyed at the lack of answers. He felt Kablidook was thoroughly
enjoying not giving him any.

“How will I know you have given me everything that was left for me? I want to see their will
myself,” he finished forcefully.

Kablidook expression turned into a stone-faced one, clearly upset at Harry’s lack of trust, but
more importantly, with the insinuation that was behind it.

“There you are, then,” he handed him the parchment that had his parents last will and testament.
He quickly glanced at the bottom of the parchment and saw that it broke off just where the goblin
had stopped.

“As you can see, Mr. Potter,” Kablidook stated, “there is no more to be read.”

“But…, I mean, did they not finish it or something?”

“Mr. Potter, it is my understanding that you were raised by muggles, but this is really getting
tiring. I had expected that you would have asked somebody how it is that wills work in our world,
but it seems that the twenty four hours that I gave you went completely wasted.”

Harry was angry at the goblin now. He seriously thought that he must be a distant cousin of
Snape.

“So much for being civil,” he muttered under his breath.

“Like most things in our world, Mr. Potter,” Kablidook continued, “they are charmed or have a
spell within them. Wills are no exceptions. When the will is made, we at Gringotts are bound by an
unbreakable magical contract to fulfil the terms in each of them. As such, each of them is
magically charmed to reveal only that which it has been told to reveal. My guess is, the will is
finished, you just haven’t met the requirements to able to know what else was left for you.”

“So I have to wait to be of age in order to know what’s left?”

“Perhaps, then again, perhaps not. There is something that is not said here that you have to
fulfil in order to read the rest, what that may be, I do not know.”

There was a long pause that let Harry think about what it could be that he needed to do. He
decided to worry about until he was of age.

“Seeing as how that has been covered, we can move on to the next order of business, that being
the will of one Sirius Black. This one reads,

‘I, Sirius Black, being of sound mind, herby bequeath the following to my godson, Harry James
Potter. I leave him the contents of vault #424 as well as the ownership of #12 Grimmauld Place, to
with as he wishes.’

That is what was left for you by Mr. Black. The contents of the vault are described here,” he
handed Harry a piece of parchment with the total sum of galleons, sickles and knuts, a sum which
Harry thought was a lot of money. “The deed and key to the residence of #12 Grimmauld Place are
here,” and he handed him a roll of parchment and a silver key that finished in a cobra head. “Now,
is there anything that I may do for you before we conclude our business here today?”

Harry was trying to suck everything in. There were lots of things on his mind, but he wanted all
of this to be organized and done with.

“Yeah, let's see, um, ok, I want to go down to vault #424.”

The goblin nodded and guided Harry back out the he came from. He was surprised to find that the
tunnel he followed in was gone and that the door opened to the railway system that was used to
access the vaults.

“Couldn’t I have used one of these to get here?”

“You could have, but that would be a breach in security.”

Kablidook gave a small whistle a car rapidly sped and stopped before them. They reached the
vault a few moments later. Harry opened the vault and saw the mounds he already knew were there, he
was looking for something else. There sitting on top of a tower of sickles was a letter for him
written by Sirius. Harry smiled to himself, tucked the letter into his pocket and turned to the
goblin.

“I need you to transfer a third of the contents of this vault to mine, #687. The rest I want you
to transfer it to the vault owned by Remus J. Lupin.”

Kablidook eyed Harry suspiciously but nodded and wrote his instructions down of piece of
parchment that he had brought with him.

“As for this,” he said motioning towards the roll of parchment that was the deed to #12
Grimmauld Place, “put it in my vault as well.”

----------------------------

The atmosphere in the Weasley household had grown tense over the past few days. Mr. Weasley was
hardly ever there, the twins were now staying on a flat on top of their store, Bill had left for
Egypt for the next few weeks, Charlie was still in Romania, Percy was still ignoring his family,
and Mrs. Weasley seemed to be angry at something. All of this was making Ginny confused and rather
annoyed that the lively household she grew up in had faded into disarray. Ron wasn’t helping
matters. Everyday he would get up early, finish his chores, then grab his leather pouch that held
his pipe and tobacco, grabbed his broom and flew out of the house. Ron and his mum had the same
argument everyday.

“Where are you going, Ron?”

“Out.”

“And where is out?”

“I’m done with my chores, alright? I going out.”

“I don’t want you to fly too far from the house, is that understood?”

“Yeah, yeah, fine, whatever.”

Ron never turned towards his mum during this discussion. He would mount his broomstick and fly
off, clearly ignoring his mother's words. Ron never knew where he was going, he just wanted to
fly out of there as fast as his Cleensweep could take him and in no particular direction. He wanted
to get things out of his mind. He hadn’t answered Harry’s owl, and he wasn’t planning on doing it
any time soon. He didn’t want to think about what his best friends were doing, he just wanted to be
alone.

He settled himself on the canopy of a very large oak tree. He laid down a long branch and made a
pillow with his jumper. He lit his pipe and smoked for hours, not wanting to think about anything
but how bad the tobacco tasted.

“There you are!”

He was so startled by hearing Ginny’s voice that he almost fell from his perch.

“What do you want, Ginny?” Ron asked scathingly.

“I want to talk to you.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think I really qualify as advisory material, so maybe you should try
Mum.”

“Ron, I want to talk to you about this.”

“Like I said, Ginny, I don’t think I can be of much help. Why don’t you ask Hermione or Harry
for help, they might find time in their busy schedule to accommodate you.”

Ginny could sense the anger in his final words.

“Is that what this is about? Are you flying away everyday, being rude to Mum and ignoring me
just because Hermione helped Harry instead of you?”

“You know very well why I’m feeling the way I’m feeling. In fact, I would have thought that you
would be feeling something similar, seeing who's involved. As for Mum, I’m not being rude
intentionally, I just want to be left alone.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re so upset.”

Ron sat up and turned to look at Ginny with a look of fury.

“They're DATING, OK! Now do you get it?”

“How do you know that? Did either of them tell you something?”

“Did either of them tell me something,” Ron mocked his sisters question, “they don’t have to
tell me, I know. I may have the fucking emotional range of a teaspoon, I may be thick at times and
not catch things right away, but I’m not stupid! Everything with her is always Harry this, or Harry
that, how can we help Harry, Harry needs our help, Harry, Harry, Harry!”

Ginny was taken aback by Ron’s screaming.

“Lately, it's got worse. She can’t even have a conversation with me, even through an owl
that has nothing to do with Harry. I even asked her about her O.W.L.’s and she even ignored that!
I’m sick and tired of dealing with every problem boy-wonder gets himself into, but most of all, I’m
tired of playing second fiddle to a group that doesn’t give a rat's ass about me.”

He got on his broom and sped off into the night.

“Ron you don’t mean that…” Ginny yelled after him, tears streaming down her face. She had always
known that her brother harboured those types of feelings, that his insecurities sometimes got the
best of him, but now Ron was feeling just as alone as Harry had felt not so long ago. What was
worse, Ginny had no idea how to help him.

She flew back to the burrow, deep in thought, tears still in her eyes. She went up to her room
and pulled some parchment towards her. There were only two people she thought could her, or more
importantly Ron, with this. She wrote one letter to Hermione and the other to Bill.

--------------------------------

Harry and Remus were sitting in the kitchen table back in Privet Drive, having finished dinner.
Harry had kept to himself ever since he came out of the vault area of Gringotts. When asked if he
was ready to go home, Harry simply nodded and they left.

“Is everything alright, Harry? You’ve been awfully quiet since we got back.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just mulling over everything. Look, I want you to know through to me that I
transferred some of the money that Sirius left me over to your vault,” he raised his hand to stop
Remus from saying anything, “before you waste your breath, I want you to have it. I’m sure he would
have wanted as well. You have to deal with the prejudices of others, and because of that you can’t
get work. We’re family now, remember, well, at least kind of, so we help each other out. There’s no
negotiating here, so don’t even try.”

“Well, Harry, if that’s how you feel, then, there’s nothing for me to say but thanks, so,
thanks.”

Harry took out the letter Sirius had left for him and stood up.

“I’m going to turn in, but before I do, I need to ask you for a few favors.”

“Sure, Harry, anything you need.”

“I need you to contact Dumbledore and tell him that I want to meet with him tomorrow around
noon. Tell him that I request an audience with everyone in Order to be held tomorrow at #12
Grimmauld Place. It’s time we got together and worked together. If the prophecy is true, I’m going
to need their help as much as they’re going to need mine in the end.”

Harry turned to look at Remus, he was staring at him.

“What?”

“You know what it is you’re asking here, don’t you?”

“Yes, basically tomorrow I will ask to be inducted into the Order.”

“Harry…”

“No, listen, Remus. I now know that I am a part of this fight. Too many times in the past I’ve
put myself at risk for not knowing enough.”

“Harry…”

“I know, I know, it was for my own good, or my own protection, or some bull along those lines.
I’m old enough now to know what it is I’m asking, what’s at stake. Frankly, I’ve got more to lose
by not becoming a member than by becoming one.”

Remus stared at him for a long time.

“I would like your support on this, you know,” he told him.

“I don’t know if I should be happy and proud about your decision, or if I should smack some
sense into you,” he said finally, eyeing him carefully. “Alright, Harry, I’ll side with you this
time, although you should know, sometimes knowing too much is more of a burden than not knowing at
all. Think about that tonight.”

“Ok, I will, I promise. One more thing, tell him to ask Dobby if he would like to come work for
me. He will be paid for his work, and should he like to, to have him be here early tomorrow
morning.”

“Ok, Harry I’ll contact him tonight.”

“Thanks. Goodnight, Remus.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

Harry walked into his room and got ready for bed. He sat on his bed, his back leaning on the
wall, and opened Siruis’s letter.

*Harry,*

Undoubtedly, if you are reading this, it means that I have left you again. I have left you to be
with your parents, and left you behind to fight a battle I can only wish to have fought by your
side. I guess I could say that I wish that you were reading this letter when the war was over, and
you have been victorious, sadly if it were, I would have changed this letter to a different
one.

Harry was shaking slightly, fighting with himself to not fall into the despair Hermione had
helped him out of.

When you left for Hogwarts after the Christmas Holiday, I must say that I felt lonely. I had
grown accustomed to your company, even if it was brief, and started sulking around when you left.
It was then that a friend, Moony, smacked me on the back of my head and helped me snap out of it.
Yes, we were no longer together, but I had a friend to keep me company, just like you did. I
started thinking a lot about your friends, and I got to the conclusion that you might even have a
stronger bond than the Marauders had. You complement each other very well, and you care about each
other. Unknowingly, I found similarities between your friends and mine. While Ginny’s red hair
obviously reminds me of your mother, it's Hermione that has me constantly staring at how much
she and Lily are alike. Your friend Ron reminds me of me, actually. Don’t tell anyone about this,
but many of my outbursts in Hogwarts were because of my insecurities. Like Ron, I felt that I had
to prove myself to the world. James helped me get over my insecurities, just like you have helped
Ron.

Harry thought about this last comment. Harry hadn’t given much thought to Ron with everything
that’s happened. Now that he thought about, Ron hadn’t even responded his owl.

There are those that have asked themselves what family truly is. While I’m anything but a
philosopher, I have made my own definition of what family is, thanks to you and James. To me family
is not something you are necessarily born into, more like something you mould by yourself. It is
simply a group, whether it be composed of two or two thousand, that love each other, that look
after each other, and that would do anything for each other. Your grandfather would always say to
your father, ‘the most important thing in this earth is your family’. When I was honoured to become
a part of it, your father and I would sometimes fight like siblings. Your grandmother would break
up our squabble, and say to us, ‘Until you have a family of your own, James, Sirius here is the
most important thing there is on this earth. Sirius, the same goes to you.’ I was shocked by the
comment, here I was, a runaway that was seeking shelter at a friends house, and his mother later
talked to us as if we were brothers. I guess, in a way, we always were. Care for your friends, keep
them always with you, for in them, you will find the strength you need to fight, but more
importantly, to survive.

A single tear fell down his cheek.

Harry, I know that you’ll feel lonely, but always remember that you are never alone. Your
parents and I will always be with you. If my calculations are correct, one of your friends will
help you remember that. Mourn for me, if you like, but move on. Don’t forget to look towards the
future. Remember, there is light at the end of the tunnel, the sun can pierce through the darkest
skies and there is always an end to wildest storms. Stay safe, learn from those around you, but
most importantly, enjoy life.

Your Loving Godfather,

Sirius Black

Harry cleaned the tears from his face and put the letter down. It had put a lot of things into
perspective for him. His friends were always looking out for him, it was time that he looked out
for them. He could feel that Ron was angry with him, and had some ideas as to why. What worried him
more was that he was involved with Hermione, and hadn’t heard a single thing from her since she
left. Not being able to take her silence anymore, he moved to his desk to write to her.

Hermione,

Is everything all right? I haven’t heard from you in the past few days and, well, I’m worried
about you. It's not like you not to write for so long. I miss you a lot, you know. If you are
having second thoughts about us being together, well, I’ll understand. All I want is for you to be
happy. Maybe because of how I was emotionally, you confused your feelings for me and now don’t know
what to do. I will understand, really. I’d rather have our friendship than nothing at all.

Have you heard from Ron? He hasn’t answered my post yet and I’m starting to get the feeling he’s
mad at me about something. While I can think of a few ideas as to why this might be true, I would
like to know what’s really bothering him.

I love you and I miss you,

Harry

He motioned Hedwig over and attached the letter to her leg.

“I know its late, but please get to her as fast as you can.”

Hedwig hooted in reply, nipped his finger affectionately, and flew out the window. It was then
that he did something he hadn’t done in a while, he stayed sitting there on his chair, looking of
into the night. While he briefly heard Hermione’s voice in his subconscious scolding him, he
reassured her, well, himself, that he wasn’t sulking, he was merely thinking. He spent the better
part of the night thinking calmly what was going on with his best friends, and how he was going to
make things better.

-------------------------

Remus was lying on the floor in Arabella Figg's living room with his head stuck in green
flames. He was speaking with Dumbledore.

“So, Harry wants to be a part of the Order…”

“Yes, it's clear that he has matured, or had a very rude awakening, if you know what I
mean.”

“Yes, I know. I will have to think about my decision. I will have to decide if it's in his
best interest to join us.”

“Albus…”

“I know, Remus, you have told me his feelings on the subject, but I cannot risk being wrong
again.”

“Albus, whatever your decision, please, be honest with him. Whatever you decide, tell him the
reasons why. After what happened last year, his trust in you has diminished, if you should deceive
him or ignore him like it has happened in the past, he may loose all trust in you. That is
something you cannot allow to happen.”

Dumbledore breathed out a very heavy sigh.

“Yes, I know. I will have to work very hard to earn his trust again. Tell him that I will see
him tomorrow at noon, at headquarters.”

“Very well, Albus, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Remus.”

---------------------

Hermione was sitting on her chair studying. She had decided to read some of her books to take
her mind off things. Ever since she got back from Harry’s, her ‘fairytale’ had ended. Her father
and she got into huge row as they drove back. She really didn’t expect him to get so angry at her
news.

“What do you mean you’re dating Harry now?” her dad asked, enraged at the thought.

“Well, when he started to feel better we talked and now we’re going to start dating,” she
answered.

“Oh, really, and with whose permission there, little lady?”

“Dad, I’m not a little girl anymore, I’m almost sixteen,” she started, “besides, its not like
we’re doing anything we aren’t supposed to.”

“You’d better not!” her father barked.

“Listen, Dad, you’ve always trusted me, why are you acting like this?” she asked timidly.

Her father took several long breaths before he answered her.

“Look, sweetheart, I know that you’re going through a lot of changes, and with everything that
was happening with Harry you got emotional, it's only natural, but is he what you really want?”
he looked at her, but didn’t wait for answer. “No, think about it before you answer. You’re the top
of your class, you have great things ahead of you, is this distraction really worth it?”

She gave her father the pause he wanted. She knew the answer was yes, it always had been, she
just didn’t understand what her father wanted from her.

“Yes,” she said finally.

“Yes what?” her father asked.

“Yes, Harry is worth it.”

“You know dear, relationships based on strenuous circumstances rarely work out.”

“You saw that in a movie, Dad,” Hermione answered angrily.

“It’s true, though.”

“Dad, why is it you’re angry?” her father started to talk but she interrupted him. “No, think
about it. Are you angry because I’m finally dating? Are you angry because it’s Harry instead of
someone else? Why are you angry?”

Her father never answered her question as they drove the rest of the way in an uneasy silence.
When they reached her house she bolted from the car and ran up to her room, slamming the door. She
even ignored her mother who had come out to meet her.

“So, they’re dating.”

“Yeah.”

“And you have a problem with this because…”

“She asked me the same question, I still haven’t found the answer.”

“Well, congratulations, your uncertainty has infuriated our daughter and destroyed the happiness
she was feeling.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Simple, before she had both our love and Harry’s, now you’ve basically asked her to
choose.”

Since then her father and her hadn’t talked. She had stayed holed up in her room and refused to
come to eat with her father. Her mother had tried to fix things between them, but didn’t really
help matters much.

“Hermione, dear, won’t you come down for dinner tonight?” her mother asked.

“Not hungry,” she stated back.

Her mother walked into the room and closed the door behind her.

“Honey, you can’t stay mad at your father. He’s just having a hard time with the knowledge that
her only daughter is now dating. It’s difficult for every parent to let go of their daughter.”

“Mum, come on,” she said as she turned to look at her, “you know perfectly well that it's
nothing like that. Besides, it's not like we’re getting married or moving in together or
anything like that. We’re just dating!”

“I know sweetie, I know. It's just that the daughters of some of his friends have, well,
made mistakes that they, well, can’t make up for.”

“So, I’m getting this treatment because the daughters of his friends got pregnant? Just because
those whores couldn’t keep their legs closed… wait, does he think I’m stupid or something? Does he
think I’M sleeping around?”

She stood up and walked over to her door. She opened and yelled at the top of her lungs.

“I’m still a virgin, OK! And you can take me to a gynaecologist to prove it if you want!” And
she slammed the door again. She rounded at her mother this time, still screaming, “I can’t believe
either of you. I thought you knew who I was, I thought you trusted that you taught me well enough,
and educated me well enough to know when I want to do those kinds of things. Just because girls my
age are doing it doesn’t mean I AM! Since when have I done what everyone else does? Since when has
peer pressure been an issue with me? Since when?” she finished exhausted, crying now.

Her mother was crying too. She knelt beside her daughter and hugged her tightly as her daughter
cried her eyes out.

“I’m sorry, Hermione. I wasn’t trying to say that we think any of those things about you.
It's just more difficult for you father to understand that.”

“Why?” she asked pleadingly.

“Because you’re his only daughter. Even if you weren’t, a parent never wants to make a wrong
choice when it comes to their child.”

Her mother and she were back to normal, but her father never came to talk to her. She figured
that he would come to talk to her when he was ready, till then, she would keep to herself and avoid
him. When he was ready, he would have to come and look for her.

She roused from her flashbacks by Hedwig. She was ecstatic to see her. She knew that Harry must
be thinking the worst kind of thoughts. She ripped the letter open and saw that she had been
absolutely right.

She wrote him a long letter, reassuring him that everything was fine, and that she still loved
him very much.

Dearest Harry,

I’m so sorry that I haven’t written to you. Ever since I got back, things have been rather
hectic here in my house. My father and I aren’t seeing eye to eye on a few things, so I haven’t had
much time to go to Diagon Alley and send you an owl. I still love you, Harry, and if you thought
that it would be easy to get rid of me, you’ve got another thing coming. I want you to remove those
thoughts from head this instant! It took me years to get the courage to tell you how I felt, I’m
not going to let it all go waste that easily. So, you’re stuck with me, as long as you’ll have
me.

I haven’t heard from Ron either, but I think you’re right. I wasn’t very friendly when we wrote
to each other at the beginning of the summer. I’m thinking he’s a bit put out about that. We have
to see how to break the news about us dating to him. He won’t be pleased, I can tell you that. We
have to get together, all of us, and talk about this. I think it would be the best way.

I love you, Harry, and I hope to be able to see you soon. I’m missing you terribly as well.

Yours,

Hermione

She attached the letter to Hedwig's leg. She thought Hedwig might stay the night and leave
in the morning, but she was wrong, as Hedwig gave a soft hoot and sped of into the night. As she
watched Hedwig fly away, she noticed a large feathery ball flying her way, rising and falling as it
approached. She smiled to herself as she saw it was Errol, the Weasley’s family owl. “Maybe he
isn’t mad after all,” she said to herself. She had no idea how wrong she was. She was a bit
confused as to why Errol was flying towards her instead of Pig. When Errol got to her, she saw that
the letter was not from Ron, but Ginny.

Hermione,

I don’t have time for pleasantries, so I’ll get straight to the point. Ron’s completely loosing
it. His insecurities are getting the best of him and he’s getting depressed rather quickly. He
feels sure that neither you nor Harry care about him. He feels alone and is somehow sure that you
and Harry are dating. Are you? If you are or are not doesn’t really matter right now, what matters
is that your friend needs the both of you. I’ve tried to get through to him but have only managed
to fail miserably. Please, Hermione, you have to come up with something to help!

-Ginny

Hermione was a loss for words. She knew she had neglected Ron in order to help Harry, she just
wasn’t expecting something like this to happen. What’s more, Ginny was demanding that she do
something about it. She lay back on her bed and stared at her ceiling.

“What can I do?” she asked herself.

----------------

There was a loud CRACK! outside the Burrow and swish of a cloak as Bill Weasley burst through
the door. He was received by the shocked look on his mother face.

“Bill, what’s wrong? What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Ginny sent me owl, she said she needed my help and that it was urgent. Where is she?” He had
said all of this very fast.

“She’s in her room,” she answered, wondering why it was that Ginny had gone to Bill for
help.

“Thanks, Mum,” he said as he gave her a kiss on the cheek and ran up the stairs. He knocked when
he reached Ginny’s.

“Ginny?” he asked.

“Bill!” she screamed from inside her room. She ran and opened the door, “thank Merlin you’re
here! I wasn’t sure if you could make it so soon,” she finished hugging her brother tightly.

Bill saw that there were tears in her eyes and that she was clearly upset about something.

“There, there, Ginny, I’m here, just relax,” he said as he rubbed her back gently with one hand
and closed the door with the other. He guided her over to her bed and sat her down. He grabbed a
chair from her desk and sat down looking into her swollen red eyes, “What’s wrong, Ginny?”

“I’m sorry, I know I must have gotten you into trouble at work, it's just that I didn’t know
who to turn to. I don’t think that any of the others have the tact to talk to him, to help
him.”

Ginny had always turned to him when she was younger. He knew that in her eyes, he could fix
anything. He knew his sister had categorized her brothers years ago, Charlie - animals, Percy -
boring, Twins - pranks, Ron - quidditch, but Bill, as the oldest, could do anything.

“Calm down, Ginny, now tell me, who do you want me to help?”

“It's Ron,” she started quietly.

“Ron? What’s wrong with him?” he asked. He knew that this wasn’t a sibling fight or anything,
she had proven early on that she could handle herself. This had to be something big.

“He’s going mental,” she stated, “he’s getting all depressed about his friends not caring about
him, about Hermione not falling for him, about always being in Harry’s shadow.” Bill looked at her
quietly as she continued, “and it's not like before, he’s scaring me with how worthless he
makes himself out to be.” She looked at Bill with tears in her eyes, “I know that you have more
important things to do, with your work and all, I just…”

“No, Ginny, you did well,” he cut her off, “nothing's more important than family,” he said
to her. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know if he’s back yet.”

“What do you mean if he’s back yet? It’s three o’clock in the morning. Where did he go?”

“That’s just it, he finishes his chores and goes off on his broom to Merlin knows where to smoke
from his pipe.”

“So he’s smoking now, ok, I can use that to find him. Is your broom downstairs?”

“Yes.”

“Ok, try to get some rest, Gin. I’ll sort this out.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

She gave him a strong hug and kiss on his cheek. Bill went downstairs, got Ginny’s broom, and
went outside. With a few chosen words, he twirled his wand and a soft orange mist began to take
shape. He got on his broom and followed the mist as it grew brighter. He looked back to find Ron
sitting on the rooftop.

“That any good?” he asked Ron, startling from his thoughts.

“What are you doing here?” he answered back in tone that said that he didn’t like the
interruption or the company. Bill took a seat next to him. “Here,” he said as he withdrew a pouch
from the inside of his robe, “Cuban tobacco, best there is.”

“Thanks, but I’ll stick with the cheap one.”

“Yeah, I figured you’d say something like that,” he said as he withdrew his own pipe and began
to smoke beside him, “Do you resent Mum and Dad, Ron, for not being rich?”

“No! Why would you say that?”

“Well, do you resent us, your brothers I mean, for making something of ourselves?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why do you resent yourself?”

Ron looked at him questionably, “what do mean?”

“Well, Ron, all your life you’ve always like to complain about what is you don’t have, or more
to the point, what others do have. Some people do that to motivate themselves to be better, but
you, Ron, seem to do it to un-motivate yourself.”

“Well, thank you for that assessment, Bill, really helpful,” he said sarcastically as he got up
and got ready to leave.

“Sit down, Ron.”

“Why, so you can have a go at me, no thanks.”

“Ron, sit down.”

Ron stared at him for a moment, and reluctantly sat down.

“You know, as well as I do, that I’m not here to have a go at you,” he took a deep breath and
continued, “do you want to tell me what's going on?”

Ron stayed quiet for a while. He started to clean out his pipe manually.

“Here, let me,” Bill offered as he took the pipe and cleaned it with a spell.

Ron filled his pipe with Bill's Cuban tobacco and started, “I don’t know where to
begin.”

“It helps if you start at the beginning,” Bill said cheekily, hoping he wouldn’t upset Ron.

“When I was old enough to go to Hogwarts, I was already putting myself down. I remember when I
was on the train I was already complaining to Harry about myself. I told him about how my parents
had high expectations of me since you were Head Boy, and Charlie had been Quidditch Captain, and
Percy was prefect. I even complained about having to use your old robes, Charlie’s old wand, and
Percy’s old rat. All my life I’ve said that I should do well because of what’s expected of me, but
if I do, it doesn’t matter because its already been done before. I’ve found myself complaining a
lot about being worse than any of you, or about being poor.”

Bill saw him take a long puff from his pipe. While much of this wasn’t a surprise, he never
expected Ron to talk about this so calmly.

“With Harry,” he carried on, “I’ve been the same. I’ve always been jealous of his fame and
fortune,” he turned to look at Bill, “and he got that from watching his parents get killed when he
was a year old!” He paused and looked of into the night again, “I’ve asked myself a hundred times
if I would ever trade places with him,” he stated. Bill was shocked by this, “and I always arrived
at the same answer…not in a million years,” Bill let out the breath he was holding as Ron
continued, “I’ve always let my emotions get in the way. The most famous wizard of the age is my
best friend, and I always find ways to get angry at him to bring him down. I was jealous that he
got on the quidditch team in first year and I didn’t believe him when he told me he hadn’t entered
his named into the goblet of fire in fourth year. I call myself his best friend, but lately I’ve
questioned myself on just how good a friend I’ve been.”

They sat there smoking for a while. Bill was sure it was helping Ron to get all of this of his
chest, but he was sure they hadn’t gotten to root of the latest problem. When Ron didn’t continue,
Bill decided to find out.

“Ron, all of this you’ve dealt with before,” he began silently, “what happened this time that
made you loose it?”

All it took was one word to understand. Bill knew what the word was, more importantly what it
meant, he just needed Ron to say it.

“Hermione.”

“So, what is it exactly that pissed you off so much?”

“It’s a lot of things, really. Since fourth year I’ve started to have different feelings towards
Hermione. You know, the wanting-to-be-more-than-friends type feelings,” Bill smiled at this. “Ever
since I saw her in her dress for the Yule Ball, I was amazed.”

“So why didn’t you ever ask her out?”

“That’s one of the things I’m angry about. I let my insecurities get the better of me. I
convinced myself that after having gone to a ball with Krum, one the most famous quidditch players
in the world, she wouldn’t be interested in a poor bloke like me.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“No. Harry is also the reason.”

“Did Harry tell you she liked her or something?”

“No,” Ron answered again, “we never actually talked about it. It was more the way she acted
towards him. She would never admit it to anyone, but nothing, not even school or homework, takes
more space in her head than Harry. She’s always thinking about him. At first I thought it was just
because he was her friend who was always found himself knee deep in dragon dung, but later I saw
that it was more than that.”

“So you lost it because she chose him over you,” Bill asked.

“You see, that’s just it. I didn’t. I thought it was that, I was pissed at first, but I got over
it since I knew about it all along somehow.”

“So, if their getting together wasn’t the reason, than what was?”

“It was the fact that they helped each other, and got through it without me. There they were,
together now. Where did that leave me? I lost it because I felt alone, unimportant. I still feel
that way.”

“Look, Ron, there’s little I can do or say to make this be any easier, since, you have to talk
to your friends. As for the heartache over Hermione, did you ever consider that maybe you fancied
her because she always there?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, how many girls do you know at Hogwarts?”

“I know lots of girls…”

“No, I mean really know them.”

Ron stayed quiet after this.

“You see Ron, Hermione’s a great girl and all, but she’s not the only one out there. Maybe you
just wanted a girl, which is good by the way, but there was a lack of choices,” he made Ron turn to
face him, “Don’t fly off tomorrow, ok. I’ll figure out a way to get you and your friends together
alright.”

“I don’t want to intrude…”

Bill slapped Ron on the back of his head.

“Oy! What was that for?”

“That was for belittling yourself. Your friends do care about you, just as much as you care
about them, maybe even more. So tomorrow, don’t fly of, ok?”

“Yeah, ok,” Ron answered rubbing the back of his head.

“And after you have that long talk with them, you and I are going to have a long talk about
girls.”

Ron turned wide-eyed towards Bill who was smiling brightly.



5. To Live With Our Choices
---------------------------

A/N: Hey guys I’m back! Yeah, I know, stupid mugglemike where have you been! I’m really sorry
I’ve been gone for so long. I really thought I could keep up with my posts and college and life.
Well, the last two have really kept me busy as of late, so anyways. Don’t worry, I will finish the
story, even if it kills me. I know that as many apologies as I can make are really worthless since
I remember being the reader and getting pissed at the author for making me wait long for the next
instalment. I’ve gotten used to my schedule now so I’m hoping to be able to get the next chapters
to you soon. Since I already broke my last promise of updating every week, I won’t commit to that
again, but I will try to get them to you sooner. Also, keep in mind that I’m updating this chap
without my beta’s approval. I just really wanted to post again and life and other authors seem to
keeping them so here it is. If any of you are free as beta’s let me know. Chapter six is almost
done, so god willing, you’ll get to see that soon. Sorry again for being MIA. Hate mail, death
threats, constructive criticism, or any other comments are, as always, appreciated. Thanks.
-MuggleMike

Chapter 5 – To Live with our Choices

Harry got little sleep the past night, yet he felt refreshed. He figured he’d put his thoughts
in order for what was to come later that day. He wasn’t kiddding himself, he didn’t feel to ready
to talk to the order and ask to be a part of them. Would they take him seriously? Would they just
brush him off like a stupid kid? Would they remember last years press releases and believe him to a
glory hound? These questions and more plagued him through the night.

He got up and went to wash up.

He was not to keen on seeing the reaction on some of the members faces. He knew Snape would only
believe him to be seeking glory or to boost his own ego. He could picture his face plastered with
the sneer he saved only for him and imagined the comments he would make, “My, my, don’t WE want to
be important. I know you’re slow Potter, but even Longbottom would have learned from his mistakes
by now.” He was expecting comments like these and others directed at his father or at Sirius’
death.

The other Order members reaction he was dreading to see was Mrs. Weasleys. He knew that her
intentions were good, but he was far past being treated like a child. Seeing the look on her face
when he asked to be a member was not and the shrill outburst that would follow was not something to
look further to.

In the end, the favourable opinion he needed was that of Dumbledore. As the leader of the Order,
he would be the decisive factor on his acceptance. His talk with him before he talked to others was
very important. He had mixed feelings towards Dumbledore. On one side he remembered the four years
with an infallible Dumbledore, always caring about him, always there in the end to make things
right. On the other hand, there was the human Dumbledore, the man who made the mistake of caring
about him to much to not tell him what he needed to now. He asked himself all night if he was still
angry with him. Up till now, he still didn’t know.

He finished getting ready and walked down to the kitchen. As he neared the door he herd voiced
coming from behind the door. He wondered who Remus could be talking to at 8am. As he entered, he
found Remus sitting at the table drinking coffee, taking to none other than Dobby.

“Harry Potter sir!” Dobby squealed loudly. “Dobby is here wanting to work for you,” he finished
bowing very low.

Dobby was dressed awkwardly, even for him. He was wearing a perfectly clean, white pillowcase
with a griffindor scarf and one of Hermione’s knitted hats.

“Thank you Dobby, but you know that you don’t need to bow,” Harry said trying to make Dobby
stand upright since the comment made him only bow lower. Harry turned to Remus for support but
found him to hiding a grin behind his cup. “Listen, Dobby,” he began as the elf finally turned his
tennis ball-sized eyes towards him, “if you want to work for me, there are a few things we should
gets straight, ok?.”

“Oh, anything, Harry Potter, sir. Dobby will do anything to work for the great Harry Potter.
Dobby is even wanting him to bind Dobby to him, sir.”

“Um, what do you mean?”

“I is meaning that Dobby wants to belong to Harry Potter, sir, if he’ll take him.”

“Oh, that will not be necessary, we can keep the same arrangement you had at Hogwarts, a galleon
a week and on day off per month.”

“Oh Harry Potter is to generous to Dobby. Dobby is not deserving of so much generosity.”

“Of course you are Dobby,” he responded reassuringly, “you’ve helped me a lot over the past
years.”

“So is Harry Potter accepting Dobby as his house-elf?”

“Yes.”

“Oh thank you, thank you Harry Potter sir,” Dobby yelled as he danced around the kitchen. When
he realized what he was doing, he stopped and blushed. He walked slowly over to Harry. “If you will
allow him, Dobby wishes to make a spell to bind himself to you.”

Harry turned to Remus for an explanation of what this ment.

“It means that the spell is a way to reassure you of his loyalty towards you.”

Harry still wasn’t sure what this meant, or how it would work, but nodded to Dobby. The elf took
his hand in both of his. He murmed something and then placed his forehead on Harry’s palm. Harry
felt a soft tickle as the elf removed his forehead and looked up at him smiling.

“Now Harry Potter is knowing that Dobby is a good, loyal house-elf. If Dobby should betray him,
Dobby shall die.”

Harry wasn’t sure what to make out of all this, but there was still a question nagging at the
back of his mind.

“Dobby, did you know this spell when you worked for the Malfoy’s?”

Harry immediately regretted asking this as Dobby broke crying.

“No, sir, Dobby is not knowing this spell when he belong to the Malfoy’s. Dobby is learning this
from the older House-elf’s at Hogwarts. Dobby is good house-elf. Does Harry Potter believe
Dobby?”

“Of course I do Dobby.”

Dobby stopped crying at these words and grinned brightly. He wiped his tears on his scarf and
began looking around.

“Dobby why are you wearing that pillowcase? You’re still free, you know.”

“Yes, sir, but Dobby now is wanting to belong to Harry Potter, so Winky says it was best to be
dressed like a proper house-elf, so Dobby is doing that, sir.” He gave Harry a low bow.

“Well thank you Dobby, that means a lot. Listen,” Harry kneeled down and grabbed Dobby by the
shoulders, “you can still enjoy the freedoms that you like. Like I said before you’re still getting
paid, you have your days off, and you can wear anything you like. Okay?”

“Yes sir.”

“You’d better get ready Harry,” Lupin interrupted. “Here,” he handed Harry a wooden spoon, “this
is the portkey that will take you to Grimmauld Place, you have ten minutes before it activates.”
Harry took the spoon in his hands. “Make sure you take your key, without it, you won’t be able to
enter.”

-----------------------

Harry plopped down hard in front of Grimmauld Place. He still didn’t like to use portkeys. As he
looked around from his spot on the sidewalk, he saw Dumbledore standing beside him offering him his
hand. He took it and got up.

“Thanks,” said Harry.

“Don’t mention it,” replied Dumbledore.

“I still haven’t gotten used to those. By the looks of things, if I can’t apparate in the
future, broomstick will be my only way to travel. Between always falling when I use portkeys, to
getting lost in the floo network, my choices seem limited.”

Dumbledore smirked at Harry’s comment.

“Yes, both take a little getting used to.”

They walked over to the door side by side. Dumbledore stopped a few feet from the door while
Harry continued to the door. Harry took the silver key out of his pocket and stood in front of the
door. He glanced back and forth from the key in his hand to the door that led to Sirius’ old house.
He stood there for around few minutes before Dumbledore place a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Maybe we should do this another time Harry,” se mentioned gently.

Harry turned to glance at him. He saw the noble Dumbledore he remembered standing before him,
radiating with positive energy, with kindness, with love. Then he unwillingly remembered what
happened last year and he shrugged Dumbledore’s hand off of his shoulder.

“Here,” Harry said holding out the key in his hand for Dumbeldore to take, “why don’t you open
it.” Harry saw the hurt look on Dumbledore’s face, but continued, “the Order needs its Headquarters
back.”

Dumbledore had an unreadable expression on his face.

“Are you sure Harry?” he asked, the cheer in his voice now gone, “this is your house now, to do
with as you wish.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Dumbledore nodded and took the key from Harry. He inserted the key into its socket and pushed
the door open. As soon as the door was wide enough for a person to enter, they were welcomed by a
sickening stench of decay and filth. Dumbeldore entered first, followed quickly by Harry who shut
the door quickly behind him. They were in total darkness for a second until Dumbledore lit his
wand.

“We should look around the house, Harry,” Dumbledore said, “do you agree?”

“Yeah, sure” Harry replied, not caring either way. He was remembering about his arrival here
last year.

“Alright, follow me then.”

They walked single file towards the stairs, the smell getting worse. Harry couldn’t take it
anymore as he pinched his nose with his fingers. As they stood at the foot of the stairs, they saw
a couple feathers that unmistakably belonged to Buckbeak.

“Buckbeak!” yelled Harry.

“Quiet, Harry,” Dumbledore said quickly in a hushed tone.

Harry looked at him with a shocked and angry expression.

“But…” Harry began to argue.

“I’m worried about Buckbeak too,” Dumbledore interrupted quickly, “but it’s appears that
Kreacher has been up to some mischief. Until we have made sure what has happened, we should
exercise caution.”

Harry softened the look he was giving Dumbledore.

“Take your wand out Harry,” Dumbledore said while Harry gave him a questioning look, “just in
case.”

Harry nodded and both began to ascend the stairs. As they climbed, they could see a few more
drops of blood. When they finished climbing, the saw across the hall the door that led to Sirius’
mothers room, the same one Buckbeak had been kept in. The door was slightly ajar and barely hanging
on to its hinges. They walked slowly towards the room, pointing their wands at each door they
passed. As they arrived at the door, there was no mistake that the stench was coming from inside.
Dumbledore eased the door open.

SLAM! A box filled with dishes fell from above the door.

Harry was startled by the booby trap. Dumbledore, on the other hand, smiled to himself.

“Primitive, but creative,” Dumbledore whispered to himself.

They continued on inside, finding all around them what must have been an intense battle.
Furniture was destroyed, feathers and blood were splattered all over the place. In a corner of the
room, was Buckbeak, sitting on his hind legs as if he were a dog. Harry moved towards the
hippogriff, but Dumbledore stopped him. Dumbledore leaned down a picked up the remains of a pillow.
He threw in front of Buckbeak. Just as the pillow was going to hit Buckbeak, the hippogriff
attacked with his right claw, shredding the pillow. As the remains fell on the floor, Buckbeak
keeled over.

“Buckbeak,” Harry said quietly. He turned to Dumbledore, “is he dead?”

“Yes, Harry,” Dumbledore answered heavily, “he’s dead. That you just saw, was what is known to
us as the ‘last command’. In ancient times, magical animals were used in battle and many defended
their masters until their dying breath. When one of them was struck with a fatal blow and still
sensed danger, they would save up all their energy for one final attack.”

“How could Kreacher have done this?” Harry asked Dumbledore.

“Well house-elves are extremely underestimated,” Dumbledore began as he surveyed the room again,
“they have very powerful magical abilities. Although those abilities are governed by the elves
master, in the hands of one like Kreacher, well,” he said gesturing around the room, “they can be a
dangerous force to oppose.” Dumbledore knelt to study a small pool of blood. “It seems however,
that Kreacher didn’t go unscathed.”

Harry nodded to himself as he remembered his second year. Dobby had made pudding fly, blocked
the entrance to platform 9 and ¾, and even got into Hogwarts! Harry convinced himself that
house-elves, in a way, were a force to be reckoned with.

They moved out of the room and checked the rest of the house. They checked the drawing room, the
dinning room, even the attic and basement. Everything seemed to be as gloomy as they had left it, a
bit dirtier perhaps since nobody cleaned anything, but still basically an unwelcoming
environment.

They decided to move into the kitchen, the last room they needed to check, to talk and finish
checking the house there. As they walked through the main hall, they walked silently by the
curtains that hid Sirius’ mothers portrait. Harry thought that he saw something lumpy hanging
inside, but he dismissed it. Harry entered the kitchen behind Dumbledore, putting his wand back in
his jeans.

As Harry looked around, he began remembering the few meals he shared here with his friends, with
Sirius. He remembered Sirius sitting at the head of the table, playing the graceful host. He turned
to the side of the table and remembered the time Tonks kept changing her facial appearance for
Hermione and Ginny’s amusement.

He sighed as he thought about Hermione. Being away from her before had never been much of a
problem since he usually had a lot on his mind. Now, Hermione seemed to be the only important thing
worth having in his mind. He missed her terribly. He wanted her to be there with him, her hand in
his, her lips on his.

Harry hadn’t realized how long he had stared transfixed on the seat that Hermione had sat in
that day. He was awakened from his thoughts by a soft *clunk* that caught his attention. He
traced to origin of the sound to have come from the fresh tea pot Dumbledore had just placed on the
table. Harry looked over at Dumbledore who nodded knowingly and gestured for him to sit. At this
Harry was unsure of where to sit. He finally chose to sit in Sirius’ chair, so Dumbledore moved to
sit on his right.

Immediately after Harry sat in the chair, a cupboard directly in front of him burst open
shooting close to a hundred pieces of silverware towards Harry at an amazing speed. Just as the
knives and forks were about to make contact with their target, Harry instinctively threw his hands
forward to protect himself. Upon doing so, the knives and forks blasted back and fell bended and
broken on the floor.

It took Harry a moment to realize what had just happened. He looked from his unhurt,
outstretched hands to the debris of silverware that littered the floor. Harry looked towards
Dumbledore who had a shocked and relieved expression on his face. Harry then noticed the wand in
Dumbledore’s hand.

“Thanks,” Harry told him.

“I didn’t do anything, Harry,” Dumbledore replied, changing his expression to a slightly amused
one.

“What do you mean, you stopped those knives from killing me,” Harry said fiercely. Immediately
after he wasn’t so sure. “You did, didn’t you?” Harry asked in a gentler tone but still annoyed at
Dumbledore’s apparent amusement.

“I believe,” Dumbledore began, a smile forming on his lips, “that you stopped them
yourself?”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, “I didn’t have my wand out, I wasn’t… ready,” Harry finished
angrily, shooting Dumbledore a look.

Dumbledore took the hint and stopped looking amused. Harry sighed deeply, running a hand through
his hair, trying to understand what had just happened. As Harry tried to rub reason into his head,
Dumbledore served both of them a cup of tea.

Dumbledore was concerned about Harry outburst of power. He had herd of people hundreds of years
ago having that type of ability, but he had never met anyone who even knew of someone who could do
that. Powers like those were believed to be a myth, legends at best. While Harry had always been
specially gifted in his magical talent, this development might be extremely dangerous if remained
uncontrolled. He figured he would look into it as soon as he got back to Hogwarts. He turned to
look at Harry who would end up bald if he kept rubbing his head like that, so Dumbledore chose to
change the subject.

“So, Harry, you wished to speak to me?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes,” Harry said stopping his hand midway across his head. He took a deep breath and continued,
“I want to talk about a few things before I go back to Hogwarts.”

“Well, Harry, what is it you want to talk about?” Dumbledore asked.

Harry sighed unbelievably.

“I know that after several events that happened during the last school year,” Dumbledore
continued heavily, “you seem to have lost your faith in me.” Dumbledore paused there confirming by
Harry’s silence that this was true. “All I can say, Harry, is that all my decisions were made with
I what I considered to be in your best interest.”

There was a heavy silence that lasted a few tense minutes.

“You’re right,” Harry said finally looking over at the fireplace which he now noticed was lit,
“I don’t trust you’re judgement like I used to.” Dumbledore looked down at the table. “Before,”
Harry began to explain “I was younger, not really aware, of what was going on, not by choice mind
you, but ignorant none the less. As time went on, I got more and more aware of what was happening,
but decisions involving me were still being made by everyone except me.” Harry turned to look at
Dumbledore and added, “I know you meant well, that you still do, but from now on, I’m not going to
allow you or anyone else make decisions for me. From now on, any and all decisions of or about me
go through me.”

“Harry…”

“No, listen” Harry interrupted, “you’ve deliberately kept me in the dark about things I should
have known, that I needed to know. In the end, I always found out about them the hard way.”

“Harry…”

“Look,” Harry said interrupted again, “you once told me that out choices makes us who we are.
Well you made to many choices that I still can’t understand. Some choices were not even yours to
make.” Dumbledore turned to look at Harry, pondering the meaning of this. “The first choice you
ever made was to send me to hell, or at least its equivalent, by sending me to the Dursley’s.”
Dumbledore look like he wanted to say something but Harry continued, his tone rising, “yes I know,
you wanted to keep me safe, but you could have still done a lot of things to make my living there
more enjoyable, bearable at least. You could have come and visit me sometime, you could have sent
me a gift every once in a while, hell you could have sent me a card! You could have sent my uncle
Remus by on weekends to have some type of child normalcy. You said in your office that the flaw in
your plan was that you cared about me to much, well I think that was what was missing in your plan.
You said that you have watched me closer than I could imagine. That means you knew what I was going
through and you CHOSE not to do anything about it. The only time you’ve ever done anything against
the Dursleys is when you sent Hagrid to come get me before my first year.” Harry was yelling and
standing by this point.

He looked at Dumbeldore and continued lowering his tone.

“Before I was decreed to young to know anything or to do anything. Now, I’m going to be involved
in every choice that places my head on the chopping block. While I wasn’t given much choice in the
matter, my first choice is fight Voldemort. I’m in this fight whether I like to or not. You chose
to be in it as well. Its time we started working together.”

Harry sat down waiting for Dumbledore to answer.

“I can’t go through another year with secrets being kept from me and half truths bearing more
questions than answers,” Harry kept on. “I’m sure that by now we’ve both learned that working
separately can cause more harm than good. You chose to allow Voldemort to escape unscathed from the
ministry, which means you chose to leave him to me. Therefore, I ask to join the Order.”

Dumbledore look from his interlocked fingers to the ceiling, annoying Harry in the process. He
knew Harry was serious about and knew full well what he was asking.

“I’m sorry, Harry” Dumbledore finally began, “but I can’t accept your request.”

Harry got up as soon as he herd “can’t” and bolted towards the door, enraged at Dumbledore’s
refusal. Just as he was going to reach the door it closed. In his rage, Harry barely noticed that
as he extended his hand to push the door open, it exploded into thousands of pieces. Harry was out
of the house quickly, paying no attention to Dumbledore’s feeble attempts to stop him. Lifting his
wand towards the sky, Harry called down the Knight Bus, and with a loud BANG left for Privett
Drive.

---------------------

The Knight Bus had barely left when Lupin apparated infront of Grimmauld Place. He walked calmly
towards the door, only to find it half open. Fearing the worst, he pulled out his wand and rushed
into the house yelling Harry’s name. He was soon after standing before the doorway that led to the
kitchen where his fear grew exponentially as he saw the remains of the door that used to be there.
Through the doorway he could see Dumbledore sitting at the table. Lupin had never seen Dumbledore
so downcast in his life. He made his way quickly through the debris of wood and silver until he
reached Dumbledore.

“What happened?” Lupin asked, much louder than he had intended. Dumbledore didn’t answer or look
at him. Lupin grabbed him from the shoulder and asked, “Where’s Harry?”

Dumbledore turned towards him and said, “I’ve lost him.” Dumbledore saw the look of shock and
worry on Lupins face and added, “He’s fine, Remus, I saw him take the Knight Bus home.”

Lupin calmed down a little after hearing Dumbledore’s sorrowful voice reassuring him of Harry’s
safety.

“You haven’t lost him,” Lupin said after pouring Dumbledore some tea, “he’s just going through a
really difficult time right now.” Lupin could see that his comment went unheeded. “Did you explain
to him why you didn’t accept him?”

“No,” Dumbledore said, a little life coming back to his voice, “he left as soon as I said no. I
tried to call him back but he didn’t turn back. I can’t force him to listen, or to do anything else
for that matter.”

“I have never seen you like this before,” Lupin said softly.

Dumbledore took a drink from his tea and stood up.

“I have never tried so much to do something, and fail so miserably at doing it,” Dumbledore said
quiety. He turned to look at Lupin, only to find his with a questioning look on his face. “Ever
since that Halloween night, the night Lily and James were killed, I vowed to myself that I would
look after him. I did look after him by keeping him safe, but keeping him safe is all I’ve ever
done for him.”

Dumbledore walked out of the house with Lupin turning back to lock the door.

“He deserved better,” Dumbledore said to no one in particular, “he deserves better.”

With that they both dissapparated.

--------------------------------

Harry arrived quickly at Privett Drive, slamming the door behind him. He was furious at
Dumbledore’s refusal. He was starting to feel bad about just leaving like that. Dumbledore had
obviously tried to explain why he had made that decision, he just didn’t want to hear it at the
moment. He was pacing in the kitchen, going over everything that happened. He felt something behind
and turned, wand at the ready, to find an old man standing in the doorway.

“Cuix ye huecauh cahuitl no aitta altepecaconetl miztli,” the old man said smiling at Harry.

“Who are you? How did you get in here? What did you just say to me?” The old man wanted to move
forward towards Harry but Harry stopped him. “Don’t move! If you do I’ll blast you through the
wall!” Harry said, pointing his wand squarely at the old mans chest and wondering why he hadn’t
already shot a spell at the stranger.

The old man retracted slowly to his original position, then decided to lean his shoulder on the
door frame.

“Quexqui cocolli telpochtli,” the old man said. He looked at the blank face on Harry face and
decided to refrase, “So much anger young one.” The old man stared directly into Harry’s eyes never
blinking. “Yes, I can feel the source of your torment, yet you feed a fire that should be put
out.”

“Who are you?” Harry asked again.

“Ah yes,” the old man began, smiling again, “introductions are both polite and necessary,
especially in times like these.” The old man was looking for a comment from Harry, but Harry just
remained there, combat ready. “As for my name, I have been called many things, in many languages,
the most recent I guess will have to do. Call me Temachtiani, or Tiani for short if you wish. It
means teacher in Nahuatl.”

“In what?” Harry asked.

“Well I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, other than by your geographical location, most
nahualli’s hate to mingle with cultures unlike their own.” Tiani said.

“Most what?”

“Wizards,” the old man said, “you’ll have to forgive me, I’m used to speaking mostly in Nahuatl
since that is the old native language of where I have been for the past decades, although I do
venture around the wizard and muggle world a lot.” Tiani stared once again into Harry eyes. “You
have many questions that need answering and many more that don’t. I will answer some now, others at
a later time, but some questions I’ll let you answer for yourself.”

“I’m starting to get tired of this game, Tiani,” Harry finished sarcastically.

“Are you?” Tiani answered back in a more serious tone. “Tell me, have you decided yet?”

“Decided what?” Harry asked back.

“Have you decided whether or not you are going to blast me through the wall,” Tiani
answered.

“No,” Harry answered.

“Well have you at least decided if I’m friend or foe?”

“No,” Harry answered again.

“I see there is much work to be done,” Tiani said rubbing his forehead. “ You might as well put
that away before you hurt yourself, we both know you aren’t going to used it.”

“What make you say that?” Harry asked.

“Well let’s see, one, you live in a house that is protected by an ancient charm that keeps all
servants of Voldermort out of it,” Tiani began, counting on his fingers, “two, if I worked for him,
and supposing I found a way into the house, I would have already tried to hurt you. Three, you can
feel in the back of your mind that should trust me, but don’t know why.” Tiani looked up from his
fingers, “should I go on?”

“Why do I feel that I know you from somewhere?” Harry asked, lowering his wand a bit.

“Because you do, well at least your ancestor did. As I said when I first got here, Long time no
see, son of lion.”

“You know about my family?” Harry asked cautiously.

“Of course I do,” Tiani answered immediately, “I’m here to fulfil the oath I swore long ago to
the first lion, the man you know as Griffindor, but this is a long chat, would you trust me enough
to allow me to sit at the table.”

Harry finished lowering his wand and nodded at Tiani. Harry found him to be extremely odd, but
somehow, he knew that his words were true. They both moved towards the kitchen table and sat one in
front of the other.

“Thank you, Harry,” Tiani said as he sat down.

“You know my name?” Harry asked, unable to contain himself.

“I know a lot more than that, but I think it would be best to start at the beginning,” Tiani
answered. Harry nodded and Tiani began his tale. “In the time of Griffindor, wizards were more
powerful and as consequence, more careless. It was a time when magic was taught by parent to child,
each teaching maintaining the tradition of each individual family. Those teachings were based on
the origins of magic, traditional, natural, un-institutionalised. Now the basis and theory of magic
we will talk about later, for now, all you need to know is that, as its human nature, fighting
broke out amongst the families. The fights began when there were those who decided to squander
their magical gift began to use it for offensive purposes.” Tiani saw the confused expression on
Harry’s face. “You see, before, magic was mostly used to better one’s life, now it seems it the
medium through which wizards live their life, which is why wizards and muggles live separately now.
To make a long story short, Griffindor saved my life, and as it was custom, I’m indebted to him
because of it. He tried to convince me to forget all about it, but I was bounded by honour to
uphold the traditions of my family.”

Harry began to fiddle with the ring in his finger. He hadn’t given it a second thought since he
got it at the gravesite, now it seemed to be more important.

“Yes, that is the reason why I have remained. Griffindor didn’t want to impose such a monumental
task on me, but I insisted. You see, the Griffindor family has always been involved in the fight
against evil.” Harry looked at him as if to find the meaning behind this. “It’s not as glorious as
it sounds, because since they were very well known for it, they had many enemies lined up. Your
ancestors were all killed except for Godric. Godrics parents stopped the evil that had swept the
world in those times. Godric was instructed two things by his parents, to insure the survival of
the bloodline, and to build a school where in the hope of fellowship, petty differences could be
forgotten. As you know, he succeeded in the first, but in the second, well nobody could succeed
fully in that quest. Human beings, it seems, tend to get restless, sooner or later.”

They both remained quiet for several minutes. Tiani sat there studying Harry’s body language
while Harry simply tried to absorb all of this in.

“How many people know about this?” Harry asked finally.

“Few, very few people know about the true history of our race as magical beings. As for your
family, I would think that none do.”

“You said some things about the origins of magic,” Harry began.

“Yes, and I spoke out of turn. I will speak of this later, when your training begins.”

“My training?”

“Yes, your training,” Tiani said. “You didn’t think I stayed alive all these centuries just to
give those who could unlock their ancestral potential a history lesson, did you?”

“I guess not,” Harry answered. “So when do we begin?”

“I know you will begin some sort of training after the anniversary of your birth. We shall begin
then, for what I have to teach you should complement that which you are going to be taught.”

Harry herd a CRACK outside the house. Tiani looked over his shoulder and smiled. It seems
Cuetlachtli, wolf, is here. Tell nobody about me yet, ok? They won’t understand. If you feel
distrustful, tell only Dumbledore or your Cihuatlaixnamic, your girlfriend, Hermione. No one
else.”

Harry turned from Tiani to the front door that was opening. When he looked back, all he saw a
small trail of smoke drifting out the open kitchen window.

*A/N: Everything that Tiani said is real Nahuatl that I got with the help of, http://aulex.ohui.net/nah-es/index.php, a Spanish to
Nahuatl translating site. Let me know what you think so far by reading and reviewing! =P*



6. Growing Pains and Reconciliations
------------------------------------



*I'm Back! Yes I know, it took me a long time to get this out to you guys. (Dodges curses
of any remaining readers) On a good note, chapter seven is almost done, and with my fabulous new
beta, it should get out to you sooner than you probably expect. Thanks to all of you who stayed
with me and for those who besides reading, review as well. Keep those comments coming, good or bad,
they're always welcome. - Mike*

Chapter 6 - Growing Pains and Reconciliation's

Lupin walked into the kitchen to find Harry glancing out the open window. Fearing Harry might
fall back into the depressive state that he was in at the beginning of the summer, Lupin decided to
raise Harry from his stupor.

“Harry,” Lupin began cautiously, “you alright?”

Harry turned slowly towards Lupin and nodded slightly. He was still very confused about
everything that had just happened with Tiani, but he couldn't tell Lupin about it. He decided
to get a glasss of water to avoid the silence.

“Harry, I know that you're angry,” Lupin began again, “but you shouldn't have run off
like that. You should have at least allowed Dumbledore to explain …”

“Explain what?” Harry interrupted rudely, staring out the window again, “I should have let him
explain how I'm still an idiotic child that doesn't have the mental capacity to make
decisions that affect my own life?”

“You know Harry,” Lupin responded, “you do have a lot of enemies that are coming after you. Do
you think its wise to push yourself away from your allies as well?” Lupin walked towards Harry and
forced him to look at him. “Yes, Dumbledore made a mistake last year. The thing is Harry, that we
all like to think of Dumbledore as an all-knowing deity of some sort, and guess what, he's not.
You have to understand that as a man, he will make mistakes, just like the rest of us.”

Harry calmed down a little after this. He walked over to the table and sat down, placing his
hands over his face. After a few minutes he sighed loudly and withdrew his face from his hands to
look at Lupin.

“Why won't he let me be a part of the Order?” Harry asked, “I mean, the prophecy confirms my
involvement. I'm the only one who can kill him.”

“I don't know for sure Harry,” Lupin answered, taking a seat in front of him. “If I had to
guess, I would say that he doesn't want you worrying about more than you need to.”

“Like what?” Harry asked, sighing in frustration.

“Come on Harry, think about it,” Lupin stated, as if they were back in class working a problem,
“we, that is to say the Order, deal with every aspect that has to deal with Voldermort and his
Death Eaters. Do you really want to know about every attack, every murder, every senseless,
gruesome and violent act that those vile beings do?” He paused for a moment to allow Harry to think
about it, but continued before he answered, “None of us want to know any of it, but most
importantly, we don't think you should worry about it.”

“Figures,” Harry spat angrily.

“Damn it, Harry,” Lupin yelled, slamming his hands on the table, “not every decision we make is
done to spite you. Why would you want to know about how some poor bastard got slaughtered just
because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time? Do you want to know that his blood and guts
are now the new coating on the wall where we found him? Why would you want to know about a family
of muggles who got rounded up and tortured, one by one, witnessing their loved ones die before
their eyes? Do you want to know that after they were dead, they severed their heads and used them
for target practice? Why is it that you want to know these things? You know what Voldemort and his
Death Eaters are capable of, why should knowing the details make things any better? Do you want to
continue to have nightmares? Yes, you're in this fight to the end, but that doesn't mean
that we're going to add to the burden you already carry.”

Lupin got up and took a deep breath and looked down at Harry.

“You've got a lot to learn Harry,” he said, a bit more calmly, “Dumbledore, the Order, and
everyone else that knows you wants to help you. As such, we can never guarantee that we will be
flawless in everything we do. Learning that is part of growing up. You've had a horrible
childhood that forced you to grow up a lot quicker than anyone else your age. You shouldn't get
mad at us because we are trying to salvage what's left of it.”

Lupin reached into his cloak and took out a handful of letters.

“These arrived for you just after you left this morning,” he said, lobbing the letters onto the
table, “and Bill and Ron will be here for dinner. I sent Dobby to get his things from Hogwarts, he
should be back shortly. I'll be upstairs if you need anything.”

Harry sat there looking from the letters in front of him, to the now empty corridor before him.
Lupin had never yelled at him before, he had always been calm and understanding. He kept thinking
about the questions Lupin had asked him. Did he really want to know all the gruesome details? He
found himself wondering why it was that he wanted to join the Order in the first place. His answer
before had been because he wanted to be involved with all the choices that involved him. This
answer now seemed extremely childish. He knew well enough that he couldn't be a member halfway.
He had been so focused on what he wanted that he refused to look at what it really meant to be a
full fledged member of the Order. Lupin had asked him to think about this before, and even though
he had, it now appeared to be extremely one-sided. Harry had never felt like a selfish spoiled brat
until now, and the feeling made him nauseous. He had completely approached everything the wrong
way.

He needed something to clear his mind, and the answer was right in front of him. He reached and
grabbed Hermione's letter from the pile.

*Dearest Harry,*

*I'm going out of my mind here. I want to see you so much that I can't even read
anything or do my homework because you're constantly invading my thoughts. Who would have known
you would be such a distraction? I'm just kidding Harry, but I am missing you terribly. I wrote
my phone number below, please call me as soon as you can.*

*I love you, and I can't wait to see you.*

*- Hermione*

Hermione's thoughts on everything that had happened today seemed to be just what the
doctored ordered. He quickly ran upstairs and into Dudley's room and picked up the phone. He
quickly punched in Hermione's number and waited nervously as the phone rang.

“Hello?” a female voice answered. Harry knew this wasn't Hermione but somebody older.

“Oh, um, good evening,” he began nervously, “may I please speak with Hermione?”

“and who may I say is calling,” said the female voice, sounding a bit amused.

“Harry Potter,” Harry answered.

“One moment please,” the amused voiced said.

Harry was now sweating slightly. He could hear the voice calling out on the other end.

“Hermione, dear, it's for you,” the voice now confirmed to belonging to Mrs. Granger.

In less than a second, Hermione had picked up the phone.

“Thanks, mum,” Hermione yelled, telling her mom in code that she could hang up now, “Harry?” she
asked excitedly.

“Yeah, it's me. Expecting someone else?”

“Well, yes Harry, as a matter of fact, Draco Malfoy was supposed to call me because he has
renounced the wizarding world and wanted my help to find a muggle job mopping floors,” she
answered.

They both had a good laugh at this. Just listening to Hermione's voice lifted his
spirits.

“It's so good to hear from you Harry. I wish you were right here with me so I could give you
a great big hug. My dad and I are still not talking to each other, but oh well his loss really,”
she said all of this very quickly.

Harry couldn't help but laugh at Hermione's rushed voice.

“Hermione, calm down,” Harry said gently, “I wish I was there with you too. There are so many
things that I have to tell you, but they best wait until we talk in person.”

Hermione was a little worried at this announcement.

“Harry, is anything wrong?” She asked timidly. She couldn't help herself. At Harry's
mention of needing to talk to her in person, her insecurities started getting the best of her.
Harry sensed this immediately.

“No, Hermione,” Harry answered quickly, “It has nothing to with `us'. I wouldn't let you
go for anything in the world, except your telling me to do so.” Hermione calmed down after hearing
him mention them as “us”. “I've just learned a few new things about myself and about my
family.”

“Okay, Harry,” Hermione said, “Just a favour, please?”

“Anything for you,” Harry answered.

“Don't tell me something like this again. I hate it when someone tells me the beginning of
something and then says they'll tell me the rest later. It's like reading a book you really
like and you're halfway through and then somebody comes and takes it from you.”

“Um.”

“Okay, let me put this in terms you can understand. It's like giving you a taste of
butterbeer and then not allowing you to drink it.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry about that.”

“It's okay, it's just something that I hate people doing to me.”

After an awkward pause, Hermione decided to change the subject.

“So, is there anything else you'd care to share?” She asked.

“Lot's,” Harry answered, “just not by phone. There's so much to tell you, but I'd
rather wait until I see you so I can look at those adorable faces you make when you're
thinking.”

“I don't make faces,” Hermione responded loudly.

“Of course you do.”

“No, I don't!”

“Have I also told you how cute you look when you're angry?” Harry asked.

“Argh,” Hermione breathed loudly, “How am I supposed to get angry at you when you say things
like that?”

“You're not,” Harry answered with a laugh. “So, you can tell me already, did you get O's
in all of your O.W.L.'s? Did you get the record for most O.W.L.'s in Hogwarts History?”

“Ha, ha,” Hermione responded, but sounded pleased, “Yes, I got an O.W.L. for each exam I took,
but no they weren't all O's. I got an E in History of Magic because there was this student
sitting in the back who fell out of his chair. I guess I couldn't quite concentrate after
that.”

“Yeah, wonder what that guys problem was. So were you really that worried about me?”

“Of course, Harry. Although, worrying about you has become a kind of second nature to me through
the years.”

“You shouldn't worry about me that much,” Harry said quietly.

“Harry…”

“Maybe you're father was right about…”

“Okay, STOP!,” Hermione scolded into the phone, “don't you dare say something like that to
me! Don't you even think that you are a distraction of any kind for me. If anything, you're
a good and extremely welcome distraction.”

“It's just that you have so many things going on in school, I don't want to add worrying
about me to your already crazy schedule.”

“Nobody is making me worry about you. I want to worry about you, and there's nothing you or
anyone else can do about it.”

“Okay, Hermione, you win,” he said. “Is it me or are you getting to win a lot more now?”

“You'll get used to it,” Hermione said laughing.

“What classes are you taking next year?” He asked.

“Well let's see, I'm taking N.E.W.T. Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Defence Against
the Dark Arts, Herbology, and Arithmancy. I'm also taking Basic Medicine. I'm still a
prefect, so that will be fun.”

“Hermione,” Harry began cautiously, “you haven't asked McGonagall for another Time Turner,
have you?”

“Of course not!” Hermione retorted, “I just want to keep my options open.”

“If you say so,” Harry said, unconvinced, “So, any room for a boyfriend in that busy
schedule?”

“Well, yes, of course. I mean I chose my classes before we started going out, but still, I'm
sure…” Hermione paused as she realized Harry was having a go at her, “Very funny Harry.”

“What?” Harry asked in his best innocent voice, but failed miserably by laughing slightly, “I
just wanted to know if you had scheduled any time for us.”

She smiled and got all flustered at hearing him mention the word “us” again.

“We'll spend loads of time together Harry. I'll make sure of that.”

“Well, alright then. Write it in you homework planner so you don't forget,” Harry finished
cheekily.

“My, my, don't we feel like a comedian today,” Hermione said.

They laughed heartily for a while, both enjoying being able to talk to each other, yet wishing
they were together.

“Do you think I would get splintched if I tried to apparate?” Harry asked.

“Probably, you don't even know how,” Hermione answered, “why? Where do you want to apparate
to?”

“Turn to look at your right,” Harry said, “right there.”

“Oh, Harry…” Hermione said lovingly.

“Just imagine, Hermione, I could be there in your room in a matter of seconds.”

“Well Harry, while I would like nothing more than to have you here beside me, I don't think
it would be appropiate for you to be in my room,” Hermione mentioned cautiously.

“Hey, no fair. You've been in my room. Besides, I've already seen you in your pyjamas,”
Harry finished.

“Yes, you have seen me in some of my pyjamas,” Hermione conceded, “but you haven't seen me
in these pyjamas.”

“Really, so are they like sexy pj's or something?” Harry asked

“My wardrobe has been accused of many things, Harry,” she answered, “but sexy, isn't one of
them.”

“Well they're just jealous, Hermione,” he said, “you could be wearing Dobby's old
pillowcase and still look incredibly sexy.”

“Thanks,” she said timidly.

There was an awkward pause that lasted several minutes.

“Harry…” she began, but was interrupted by Harry.

“We've been through this Hermione,” Harry said tenderly, “and while there's nothing more
that I would like than to experience all those types of things with you, I'll happily wait. You
set the pace, remember? You're worth the wait.”

She stayed quiet for a while, just thinking how lucky she was to have Harry. Since she told him
that night in his room her feelings for him, she had always questioned if she had done the right
thing. She always had a small voice nagging at the back of her head that told her that the only
reason he was with her was out of guilt. Hearing him the past few minutes made her realize for once
and for all that he truly loved her.

“Tell me Harry,” she began, “on a scale from one to ten, how much do you love me?”

“On a scale from one to ten?” he asked back.

“Yep, just to keep things simple,” she answered.

“Hmm,” Harry said, faking to have to think of the answer, and knowing full well how impatient
Hermione was getting.

“Well,” she demanded after a few minutes.

Harry laughed, enjoying the torment that his delay was causing for Hermione.

“Let's see,” Harry started, adopting his best professor voice, “On a scale from one to ten,
my love for you ranks around, well, let's say…”

“Harry!” Hermione scolded.

Harry had another small laugh.

“Alright, my love for you ranks at about a thousand,” he answered seriously, leaving all joking
aside.

They both remained quiet for a moment.

“Harry,” Hermione finally began, “ the scale was from one to ten.”

“I know,” Harry replied, “and I answered truthfully. In all honesty Hermione, I know that number
will only continue to grow day after day. All you have to do is be by my side, and I swear I'll
love you more each day.”

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione whispered, shedding a small tear from her face.

“Your kisses help out a lot too, you know?” Harry said, lightening the mood a bit.

“Don't worry Harry, we'll see each other soon.”

They both stayed quiet for a while, thinking, imagining themselves in each others arms.

Lupin walked up to Dudleys room and knocked on the open door to get Harry's attention. Harry
quickly turned around to look at Lupin. He seemed a lot calmer than he was a while ago.

“Sorry to interrupt you, Harry,” he began, “but I wanted to ask you something.”

“Sure, just give me a sec,” Harry said, “Hermione, I've got to go. I really don't want
to hang up, but I've got to talk to Lupin about a few things that happened earlier.”

“It's fine, Harry,” Hermione said, “I understand. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“Tomorrow?” Harry asked back.

“Well,” Hermione said, stammering slightly, “aren't you going to call me tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I'll call you tomorrow,” Harry said, shaking his head out of minor confusion, “I love
you, Hermione.”

“I love you to Harry,” she said, and hung up.

Harry turned to look at Lupin, only to find an empty doorway. Harry questioned himself were he
was. He shrugged it of and walked downstairs to find Lupin sitting in the living room.

“I didn't mean to intrude on your conversation, Harry,” Lupin began, answering Harry
question.

“That's okay,” Harry said.

“There's been a small change of plans,” Lupin began, “I was asked by Molly to see if you
would like to go over to the Burrow this evening for dinner and perhaps spend the night. I took the
liberty of accepting the offer for dinner, but left the decision whether to stay overnight or not
up to you.”

Harry thought for a minute about going to the Burrow. Normally, he would always look forward to
a trip to the Burrow. There was never a dull moment in that house. Now, however, things were a bit
different. He hadn't talked to Ron all summer, and it was something that he needed to do. He
let that last thought be his deciding factor.

“Alright then, let's go. I'm still don't know about staying the night, though. Going
to have to wait and see how the evening goes, you know?”

Lupin nodded his head, understanding exactly what Harry meant.

“We're going to have to go over to Arabella Figg's house,” Lupin said, getting up and
receiving a questioning look from Harry, “Arthur had her fireplace connected to the floo network,
he didn't want another incident at the Dursley's house.”

“Where's Dobby?” Harry asked, making sure his wand was still in his jeans pocket.

“I asked him to go the Burrow ahead of us,” Lupin said cautiously, “I hope you don't
mind.”

Before, Harry would have probably gotten upset about Lupin ordering his house-elf around instead
of him. Now, he knew that was just the way the spoiled and ignorant acted. He smiled to himself
thinking how that course of action was best suited for Malfoy.

“No, that's fine,” Harry answered.

They locked up and walked over to Mrs. Figg's house. The sun was beginning to set, so they
would be arriving just in time. The street felt quiet, a silence that for some unknown reason made
Harry's hair stand on end. There were usually people walking about, or some sort of commotion
outside. It made him very uneasy to be walking on such an empty street, with the only sound being
that of their own feet beating against the ground.

The arrived soon enough to Mrs. Figg's, where she ushered them quickly inside.

“It's through there,” Mrs. Figg said pointing towards here living room, “I'll get the
floo powder.”

They watched her leave to get the powder.

“That's odd,” Harry said, “she didn't even say hello.”

“Yes,” Lupin said looking around, “she's been acting rather odd lately. There's always
been something magical about Arabella. Somehow, she has always been able to sense danger. Like an
animal who flees far before his hunter arrives. Let's hope this is just the fact that she
hasn't had to feel like this in a while now.”

Mrs. Figg came back with a small pot.

“Off you go now, no sense dilly dallying, now is there,” she said.

“You go first, Harry,” Lupin said.

Harry got a pinch of powder and stepped into the fireplace. He looked at the nervous expression
on Mrs. Figg's face.

“Mrs. Figg,” Harry began, “are you alright?”

“As good as I can be, under the circumstances,” she answered, “now off you go.”

Harry looked around the house from the fireplace. There was something going on that made him
feel uneasy. He looked straight into Mrs. Figg's eyes, looking for the source of his
uncomforting feeling. She stared right back, although cowering slightly. Harry couldn't find
anything.

“The Burrow!” he said, thrusting the powder into the fireplace.

------------------------------------------

Harry slid into the Weasley's living room covered in ash.

“Still haven't gotten used to it, have you?”

Harry turned to look at the grinning face of Fred who walked over to help him get up.

“I hate travelling like this,” Harry answered.

“Yeah, well, only a year left until you're old enough to apparate, so don't worry about
it,” Fred said reassuringly.

He helped Harry brush off some of the ash.

“Where is everyone?” Harry asked.

“Oh, well mum and Dobby are in the kitchen preparing dinner,” Fred said, motioning Harry towards
the door.

Fred saw Harry look towards the kitchen.

“No can do, Harry,” Fred said, shaking his head, “Mum said nobody is allowed into the kitchen,
especially you, so she hired me as your distraction slash entertainer till then” he added
grinning.

“You're not going to prank me are you?” Harry asked.

“No way!” Fred said with a mock-scandalized expression, “George and I agreed never to prank our
financier. Besides, it's because of you that we've got the shop.”

“Me?” Harry asked incredulously, “your ideas got you the shop. I just gave you that extra nudge
you needed to really make it happen. You would have done it on your own sooner or later.”

“Yeah well, if it's all the same to you, we're glad it was sooner rather than later,” he
said, grinning at Harry while rubbing a hand on his fine dragon skin jacket.

“So, where is everyone again?”

“Right, where was I, oh yeah, George is closing up the shop, which the three of us will talk
about later. Bill and Ron went off flying, so they shouldn't be long, Ginny is over at the
Lovegood's finishing up some homework, and dad's still at the ministry,” Fred said,
counting each of them of with a finger.

At that moment George appeared with a small pop! He looked around and walked quickly over to
Harry and Fred. Harry saw that he was also wearing his new jacket.

“Hello, Harry,” George said, “you alright?”

Harry had anticipated these kind of questions.

“Yeah, I'm okay.”

“Good to hear,” George said. He took out a small bag from his pocket and enlarged it with his
wand. Harry found it to be a small muggle cooler from which George was extracting three
butterbeer's. “You mind if we sit down and talk business Harry?” George asked, in his best
Percy-mocking voice.

Harry laughed at the question but found them to be talking seriously. Harry had never seen Fred
or George act so seriously before. Harry figured everyone had to grow up sometime. Perhaps the
twins had learned that there was a time and place for everything.

They walked over to the garage where the Weasley's flying car had been kept once. Inside,
Fred waved his wand to light the place up. Harry saw a square table sitting in the middle of the
room. There was a workbench on the far right covered in muggle equipment from irons to an
old-fashioned telephone. The walls were covered with plugs of all shapes and sizes, looking like
some bizarre attempt at an artistic design.

“You two still living here?” Harry asked, as he sat down with his back towards the door.

“Yep,” George answered, “for now at least. We live here, but with some changes.”

“Besides, no sense in spending needlessly,” Fred added, adjusting the collar of his jacket.

“What changes?” Harry asked.

“Chores,” the twins echoed together.

“When we started working, we wanted to get our own place in Diagon Alley,” Fred began to
explain.

“Bet your mum wasn't too keen on that idea,” Harry said.

“That's an understatement, Harry,” George continued. “So after a long discussion we made a
deal with mum. We would stay, in exchange for less chores. Seeing as how we're now two hard
working stiffs, she agreed.”

“So you're giving your mum more things to do?” Harry asked incredulously.

“No, you see that's the best part, those chores now belong to little Ronniekins,” Fred said
laughing.

“I bet Ron wasn't too pleased about that,” Harry said seriously.

“Not pleased?” George asked with amazement, “he was furious.”

“Honestly, though, he had to have seen it coming,” George put in.

“Yeah, I guess I was just to thick to figure it out!”

The three of them turned to see Ron standing by the opened door, looking furiously at Harry.

“Glad to know my best friend and my brothers love making fun of me behind my back,” Ron said,
turning around and stalking out.

Bill walked inside, looking mad. He walked up to the twins and smacked them behind the head.

“Oy! What was that for? He didn't even know what we were talking about,” George grumbled,
rubbing the back of his head.

“Yeah!” Fred continued, “he should wear a bell around his neck to let us know he's here
instead of sneaking in like that.”

Bill turned to look Harry. Harry thought for a moment that he was going to get smacked as well,
but Bill simply spoke.

“I left my broom outside, Harry,” Bill said calmly, “Ron's probably headed south.”

Harry nodded understandingly and quickly stepped outside finding the broom resting against the
wall. He looked around to get his bearings and shot up into the air. Harry found it exhilarating to
be back in the air, but he had more important things to worry about. He used his skills as a seeker
to try to find a trace of Ron, while he went over the last bits of the conversation that had
happened in the shed. With Harry's luck and Ron's timing, Ron had heard just enough to
think they were all making fun of him. He caught a shadow of something heading down towards the
tree line ahead of him. He followed quickly and hovered down towards the same spot, finding Ron
sitting on a tree branch. They stared at each other for a moment. Harry had a concerned look on his
face, while Ron had a look that resembled something between anger and disappointment.

“Come to rub it in my face some more, have you?” Ron asked angrily.

“Ron,” Harry started but stopped himself.

He knew that he had to keep his cool. If he got angry as well all that would happen would be a
big row leaving things worse than they already were.

“Ron,” Harry started again, “back there, we weren't, well I wasn't making fun of you.
I'm not here to fight with you. I'm here to talk to you.”

“Talk to me about what, Harry?” Ron asked, still angry, “Talk to me about ignoring me all
summer, or about you and Hermione getting together?”

“Both,” Harry answered.

“Congratulations,” Ron said dryly.

“Ron, I, that is to say Hermione and I, never meant to keep this from you. We surely weren't
expecting it. It all just kind of happened. We wanted you to be the first to know, but…”

“Don't worry,” Ron interrupted, “I knew the moment it happened.”

“How? What do you mean?” Harry asked, not expecting that from Ron.

“Don't know, really” Ron answered, “I just knew.”

“I want to know what you think about all this?”

“What do I think about all this?” Ron asked back, “Did you know I fancied Hermione?”

“Well, sometimes I thought I did,” Harry answered truthfully, “like that time last year when you
gave her that perfume for her birthday.”

“Glad to see someone noticed,” Ron said wryly.

“She did notice, Ron, she just didn't feel the same way,” Harry said.

“Yeah, well how could she stop to think about the poor and stupid Ron, when the great Harry
Potter is standing right beside me.”

“Ron,” Harry cautioned.

“I'm sorry Harry,” Ron said honestly, “I just don't understand why she chose you instead
of me.”

“I don't either, Ron,” Harry said, “but you know that those things you just said have
nothing to do with it.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Look,” Harry began encouragingly, “I'm no expert on this or anything, but sometimes, there
are no real reasons. Things just happen.”

“I guess arguing with her all the time to get her to talk to me doesn't help,” Ron said,
smiling at Harry.

“No, I guess it doesn't,” Harry agreed, joining in the small laughter. “So, you think
you'll be okay with this?”

“Yeah,” Ron answered, nodding his head, “just me give me some time to get used to it.”

They got on their brooms and started to fly back to the burrow.

“Promise me one thing, Harry,” Ron said.

“What's that?”

“Well, I know you're dating and all, but please, no snogging in front of me okay?”

Harry laughed at the request.

“Tell you what,” Harry answered between laughs, “we'll do our best to keep ourselves from
snogging in front of you.”

“Alright then, I guess it will have to do,” Ron agreed. “By the way…”

Ron flew close to Harry and punched him hard in the arm.

“Hey, what was that for?” Harry asked angrily, massaging his arm where Ron's fist had made
contact.

“That,” Ron answered with a smile, “is for making me worry about you this summer. You have no
idea what I went through.”

As they neared the Burrow, Ron told Harry all about his summer thoughts. He even told him about
that split second where he wondered if he was gay, at which point Harry burst out laughing.
Afterwards, he told Harry how, thanks to Ginny, Bill had come to help him straighten things
out.

“You know, I was thinking that this was a lot easier than I expected,” Harry said.

“Yeah well, thank Bill for that,” Ron said.

Harry nodded thinking that he was really going to thank Bill sometime afterwards.

They touched down just outside the Burrow and walked up towards the house.

“You know that if you hurt her, I'll kill you, right?” Ron said simply.

“If I hurt her, I think I'd kill myself,” Harry answered, “but yes, I know you'd find a
way to revive me only to kill me again yourself.”

“Good,” Ron said.

They were almost at the door when Ginny came out to meet them.

“Hello, Harry, Ron,” she greeted.

“Hello Ginny, how are you?” Harry asked.

“Are we late or something?” Ron interrupted Harry's question.

“No, you're right on time,” she answered. “Where were you?”

“Just getting some things settled, Gin,” Ron answered.

“Glad to see no blood, bumps, or bruises. Everything alright in the world?” Ginny asked, looking
at Harry for the answer.

“Yeah, we're good,” Harry answered.

Ginny nodded, knowing full well what their talk had been about and turned to guide them towards
the garden on the other side of the house.

“We're eating outside tonight?” Harry asked curiously.

“Yeah, Dobby knows lots of new tricks that he learned at Hogwarts. Dinner will be outside like
it was two years ago, but a lot better,” Ginny explained.

“Well, I'm glad he could help, as I'm sure he is,” Harry said.

“Oh, you won't believe the row he and mum had,” Ron said grinning.

“Dobby argued with your mum?” Harry asked, concerned about Dobby's behaviour.

“Not like that, Harry.” Ron said, beginning to explain, “Dobby told mum that she should go rest
and that he would take care of everything. Mum didn't take that well. She told him that in her
house, she did the cooking, and if he wanted, he could help her. Well you know how insistent Dobby
is so they went at it several times. They kept arguing until mum threatened to send him back to
your house. Dobby almost cried at the suggestion, so he let mum play head chef, while doing lots of
things without her noticing.”

Harry smiled to himself, thinking about how comical that scene must have been.

“Are we allowed to go sit yet?” Ron asked Ginny.

“Yes, I was sent to find you,” she answered.

“Good cause I'm starving,” Ron said, rubbing his stomach.

As they neared the back garden, they were greeted with the delicious smells of a savoury meal,
easily rivalling those at Hogwarts. Harry looked over at Ron who had his eyes closed, taking in the
smell.

“I guess Dobby is using a little of his Hogwarts magic, eh?” Harry asked Ron, nudging him in the
ribs.

“Yeah,” Ron answered dreamily, practically drooling on the grass.

“Come on you two,” Ginny said, “they're waiting for you.”

Harry looked at her questioningly, but followed anyway. As they reached the garden, Harry saw a
large rectangular table sitting perfectly before them. It had a Gryffindor red table cloth, dishes
and silverware all set up. Harry counted sixteen table settings and wondered who else was coming to
dinner. He had expected dinner to be just Lupin, himself and the Weasley's but apparently more
people were coming. Mr. Weasley was seated at one of the heads of the table with Mrs. Weasley at
his left. Lupin was sitting to Mr. Weasley's right, reading a letter close to the middle of the
table. Ginny walked over to sit next to her father. As they walked over, Mr. And Mrs. Weasley got
up to greet them.

“Hello, Harry,” Mrs. Weasley greeted him with her usual bone-crushing hug, “It's good to see
you again dear.”

“You too Mrs. Weasley,” Harry responded. “Who else is coming to dinner?” he asked Mr.
Weasley.

“Just a couple members of the Order,” he answered simply, “you don't mind, do you Harry?” he
asked, holding his breath for his answer.

“No, of course not,” Harry answered, questioning to himself why it seemed to matter to Mr.
Weasley if he minded or not.

Harry heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Fred and George walking towards the table.
Bill followed suit after the twins talking quietly to Kingsley Shacklebolt. Charlie brought the
rear of the group with non other than Hagrid.

They all greeted Harry first and then followed to greet the rest. They all seemed to know why
they were there, which made Harry a little uneasy.

“Alright there, Harry?” Hagrid asked.

“Yeah, I'm okay,” he answered.

“No yer not, not yet anyways yer not,” Hagrid said, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder,
“you'll be feelin' better as time gets on,” Hagrid said encouragingly.

Harry knew Hagrid was referring to Sirius' passing. He nodded to Hagrid who walked over to
greet the others. There were two small pops which revealed a disgruntled looking Mad-Eye Moody
followed by the slightly subdued Mundungus Fletcher. Harry greeted them and wondered why he was the
only one standing up and greeting everyone. He looked over at Ron, who motioned for him to take a
seat between him and Lupin. Harry sat there and looked around the table. Mr. Weasley was still
sitting at one end of the table, with Ginny and Mrs. Weasley at his side. Bill had taken a seat
next to Ginny, having Ron, Harry, Lupin, Tonks and Moody seated to his right. Seated to Mrs.
Weasley's left were Charlie, Hagrid Fred, George, Dung and Kingsley. It was an odd bunch anyway
Harry chose to see it.

“Alright,” Harry said, pulling Lupin's arm, whispering in his ear, “I give up, what's
the occasion?”

“Occasion?” Lupin asked innocently, “It's just dinner, Harry. It's not like we were
required to wear dress robes or anything?”

Harry eyed him, unconvinced, but decided to drop it anyway.

Dinner magically appeared before them, providing an array of all of Harry's favourite
dishes. They all dug in heartily and ate their fill, which in Ron's case constituted of a
little over three full plates. When they were all done, the table was magically cleared by what
Harry assumed to be Dobby's house elf magic.

As he looked around the table again, he noticed that several people were looking quite
frequently at their watches. As he wondered why many of them were doing this, he saw a huge cake
floating towards him. As Fred and George made way for the cake to reach Harry, he finally realized
why everyone had acted oddly around him today. The moment the cake touched down in front of him,
everyone around Harry chorused a Happy Birthday to him.

Harry blushed a bit as everyone cheered for him as the song ended.

“No occasion, huh?” Harry said smiling at Lupin who simply smiled back and clapped with the
rest.

“Go on, Harry,” Ginny encouraged, “make a wish.”

Harry thought for a second and neared the cake. Just as he was about to blow out the candles, he
caught a look at the twins expectant faces. Normally he would have stopped there but he felt in the
mood for a joke. Ron had been their guinea pig for a while now, so Harry decided to take one for
him.

He blew out the candles easily. The smoke from the candles rose together, taking the shape of an
open hand. Without warning the hand split into two, identical smaller hands. The hands swooped
behind Harry's head and pushed him down on the cake. Harry's face emerged from the confines
of the cake, covered in pudding. Everyone was holding their breath for Harry's reaction. Harry
stuck out his tongue and sampled a piece stuck close to his face.

“Chocolate,” Harry said brightly, “my favourite.”

Everyone burst into laughter at his comment.

“Fred, George!” Mrs. Weasley scoded.

“What?” Fred asked innocently, “it didn't blow up.”

Everyone laughed louder at this. Harry grabbed a handful of cake in each hand and looked at the
twins menacingly.

“You wouldn't?” George asked, pretending to be scared.

“Me?” Harry asked, “never.”

Harry extended his hands to his sides slapping Ron and Lupin with a handful of cake. Harry and
the rest laughed at their shocked expressions.

“That,” Harry said, answering their unasked question, “is for not telling me anything about
today. I was starting to go crazy with how odd everyone was acting around me.”

“Well, Harry,” Ron said wiping some of the cake off his face with a finger and then eating it,
“you're not supposed to tell someone about their SURPRISE birthday party, now are you?”

Dobby appeared suddenly, handing each of them a clean towel to clean up with.

“You knew about this?” Harry asked Dobby.

“I is sorry, sir,” Dobby began, bowing his head, “I is told not to tell Harry Potter, sir.”

“That's okay, Dobby,” Harry reassured him, “I'm happy you could help them.”

Dobby bowed his head and disappeared to bring a fresh, clean cake from the kitchen. They all ate
a piece, and then followed to give Harry a present, which Harry decided to open later.

As Harry looked around the people who were assembled around him, he couldn't help noticing
the people that were missing. Dumbledore would have probably attended had Harry not been so rude to
him. Sirius was now gone, and although the thought saddened him, he knew he had enjoyed the twins
joke immensely, alongside his parents. He closed his eyes and remembered the wish he had made just
moments ago. He had wished that Hermione were there, sitting beside him, holding his hand, and
laughing or scolding the twins for their joke. He would have wanted her to be a part of his first
real birthday party. He felt a hand gently squeeze his shoulder.

“The night isn't over yet,” Harry heard Lupin's voice whispering in his ear.

Harry opened his eyes and looked at Lupin curiously. Lupin simply smiled at him and pointed to a
spot behind Harry.

“Thank me later,” Lupin mouthed to him.

Harry turned around to see Hermione standing shyly a few feet away from him. He got up and raced
to her, wrapping her in tight hug.

“Happy Birthday, Harry,” she whispered in his ear.

“Now, it definitely is the happiest birthday I've ever had,” Harry said to her, planting a
big kiss on her cheek, dangerously close to her lips.

They let go and turned to around to go back to the others at the table. When they arrived, they
saw that Tonks, Lupin, Moody, Kingsley and Hagrid were getting ready to leave. Mundungus and the
twins were talking quietly out of Mrs. Weasley's sight. The remaining Weasley's were still
seated talking amongst themselves. As they arrived at the table, Moody turned to look at Harry.

“Enjoy your last meal, Potter?” Moody asked.

“Last meal?” Hermione asked with worry.

Harry squeezed her hand reassuringly.

“Yeah, at what time are we leaving?”

“I'll come get you tomorrow morning,” Moody answered, “I'll tell your elf to pack some
things you'll need.”

“Where will we be going?” Harry asked.

“Discretion Potter,” Moody answered wisely, “the enemy has eyes and ears everywhere. Just
because there aren't any Death Eaters blasting us, doesn't mean that they're not here.
Stay the night, Potter, it'll be easier that way.”

“Okay,” Harry agreed, “tomorrow it is.”

“Let's see if you're as cheerful tomorrow,” Moody growled menacingly, as he took his
leave and disaparated.

------------------------------

Ron, Ginny, Hermione and Harry were all sitting in Ron's room talking about their summer and
catching up. They had all hauled Harry's gifts up to Ron's room and were now waiting for
Harry to open them. Harry was only thinking about spending time with Hermione, but one look from
her told him it wasn't the best idea. It was the first time Ron would see them together, so
acting like a couple of horny teenagers was probably not the best idea.

Harry grabbed a random gift from the pile and saw that it was a rather large package from Tonks
and Kingsley. He tore the brown wrapping that was around it and saw it was a large leather pack
that had a golden seal of two snakes intertwined around a staff. A note had fallen out the bottom
of the package, so Harry read it out loud.

*Harry,*

*Kingsley and I have been through several of Mad-Eye's so called “courses” or extreme
vigilant trainings, so we have a bit of an idea of what's in store for you. We thought it best
for you to be prepared. Just remember, try your best, and never give up. We know you're not a
quitter Harry, but take some words of advice from one who have experienced some of Moody's
wrath, he will push your limits farther than they've ever been pushed. He truly believes that
the only way to never be surprised is to have experienced everything. So, seeing as how you'll
only get a month with him, be prepared, it's going to be brutal, but helpful, in a Mad-Eye sort
of way. Remember, Constant Vigilance!*

*Not wanting to be in your shoes during that time, but more than willing to stand at your side
from this day forth.*

*Your friends,*


*Tonks and Kingsley*


“What's in store for you?” Ron echoed, “what're they talking about Harry?”

“Yes, Harry,” Hermione added, “Moody talked earlier about your last meal. What's going
on?”

“Well that was just Moody, setting the mood,” Harry said, trying to make a joke of it. None of
them laughed. “Okay, bad joke. Well after everything that happened last year, Moody and Dumbledore
thought that I should get some extra training, and I agreed. So, I start training tomorrow.”

“Hang on,” Ron said, “we were all there, how come only you get to have additional training?”

Harry thought about telling them about the prophecy. He had still kept that detail to himself,
and wasn't sure if he wanted to share it yet.

“Duh,” Ginny said, giving Ron a look, “You-Know-Who is after Harry, not to mention Merlin knows
how many Death Eaters.”

Harry sighed softly as Ginny provided an escape for him.

“Oh, yeah,” Ron said.

Hermione opened the kit to inspect its contents and read out the labels of the potions
inside.

“Pepperup Potion, Sleeping Draft, Burn-healing paste, Mandrake Restorative Draft, Skele-Gro,
Wound-cleaning potion, Blood-Replenishing Potion…”

“Blood replenishing potion?” Ginny asked, with a bit of fear in her voice, “Tonks wasn't
kidding, was she?” she said, looking over Tonks' letter again.

“No,” Hermione said seriously, “They even included a Wit-sharpening Potion for you Harry.”

“Well, gee, that was nice of them,” Ron said sarcastically. “Sucks to be you, mate. Although, I
reckon we could do with a bit of training ourselves.”

“Hey,” Harry said, trying to lighten the mood, while rubbing Hermione's back softly,
“what's all the sulking about? It's not like I'm dying or anything. I'm just going
to get trained, and while it will be far worse than a double period with Snape…”

“Well, I don't know about that,” Ron interrupted cheekily.

“…its not like I'm not coming back. Besides, I'll have loads of new stuff to teach at
the D.A. meetings.”

“We still doing that then?” Ron asked.

“I think now,” Harry said in a solemn voice, “more than ever, it will be necessary. Before, it
was just to be ready for O.W.L.'s but now, well, I guess we all got a taste of what we may come
to face.”

They were all quiet for a few minutes as they each remembered what happened.

“I still can't believe that out of the six of us, only Neville was there to fight with you
to the end,” Ron said, causing all of them to laugh a bit.

“Hey, laugh all you want,” Harry said, “but thanks to him we're all still here. He's
really come along, and I have a feeling that being put under the Cruciatus curse by Bellatrix
Lestrange will only have fuelled his desire to get better. She's the reason his parents are the
way they are. I think there's a lot more to Neville than we've seen. Before his gran,
Snape, and Malfoy all put him down, but he didn't care because he only cared about his parents.
Now, he has seen the person that put them there, and as any of us, I think he's going to want
to get some revenge.”

“I don't know if it's wise to encourage his revenge Harry,” Hermione said softly.

“I know, Hermione, but I saw his face when he saw her in the Department of Mysteries.”

“Can't blame the bloke, can you?” Ron said.

“No, you can't, you can only try and help.” Harry answered.

They all remained quiet for a moment thinking about the fight in the Department of Mysteries.
Harry wanted something to get his mind off things so he began to open more of his presents. He got
a pair of professional dragon-hide gloves from Charlie, who had written in a letter that these
could even block minor spells. Bill gave him a book on Egypt. The note that came with it said the
book was more of like a journal of a very successful curse-breaker who spoke of his adventures in
detail. Unlike Lockhart, Bill had written, this guy had actually done everything he wrote about.
Harry handed the book quickly to Hermione who anxiously wanted to read through it. Hagrid had given
him his usual supply of rock cakes, which everyone refused, and asked Harry to come by his hut when
he got to Hogwarts. Fred and George had provided him with an array of “experimental” sweets with
the hope that Harry might try them on first years when he got to Hogwarts. While Hermione was
scandalized at the twins proposal, she laughed at Ron's suggestion to try them on Malfoy.

Ron and Ginny blushed a bit when Harry got their present. The package was rather tall and
heavy.

“We both pitched in,” Ron said uncomfortably, “it should keep you on your toes, though.”

Harry knew that what Ron had meant was that this was rather expensive. He opened it and looked
quizzically at the gift. It was a small, golden, hand-sized book that was chained to a small
anvil.

“It's called `Seek It and Keep It, The Guide to Seeker Excellence',” Ginny explained
quickly, “It came out last week. It's supposedly designed to keep a seeker on his toes.”

“This is brilliant,” Harry said excitedly, causing Ron to smile brightly “I'm going to be a
bit rusty after a year off.”

“If you get a spot on the team, that is,” Ginny said cheekily. “You're going to have to suck
up to the new captain if you want your spot back.”

“And who might that be?” Hermione asked, looking over at Ron who was studying a spot on the
ceiling.

“I'm guessing it must be some prat,” Harry began, looking over at Ron, “who is absolutely
obsessed with Quidditch.”

“Hey!” Ron spat, taking the bait.

Harry, Hermione and Ginny laughed at Ron, who shrugged and joined them.

“Congratulations, Ron,” Harry said.

“Thanks. I mean, you would have probably gotten it, if you'd played last year,” Ron said,
trying to contain his excitement.

“I don't think I would have,” Harry said thoughtfully. “Besides, we both know I don't
know much about Quidditch, other than being a seeker really.”

“Yeah,” Ron said smiling, “you are a bit ignorant when it comes to that.”

“Hey!” Harry yelled.

They all had another laugh.

“Well that's all of them,” Ginny said looking around the room under shreds of wrapping
paper.

“No, we haven't seen what Hermione got Harry,” Ron told Ginny.

“I think that she might give it to him, later, Ron,” Ginny said with a strong hinting tone.

“Later? Why? I mean she…” Ron stopped himself as he looked from Harry to Hermione, “right, never
mind. Still getting used to it.”

“So, want to go for a walk with me?” Harry asked Hermione.

“Yes, I would love to, Harry,” Hermione said lovingly, “but…”

Harry knew automatically where this was going. Hermione was going into her mothering mode, and
while she looked very cute while she did it, it certainly killed the mood.

“…but you want me to get a good night's sleep before I start my training, right?” Harry
finished for her.

Hermione blushed at hearing Harry finish her thoughts. She never thought Harry had paid that
much attention to her. Ginny felt she might as well be the first as she got up and said her
goodnight, walking towards her room. Harry followed Hermione to the stairs, turning her around for
her to see him. With a quick look back, Harry saw Ron was “busy” getting ready for bed. He moved in
quickly and gave Hermione a fast, soft kiss on the lips.

“Goodnight, Hermione,” He said giving her a hug.

“Goodnight, Harry,” she answered giving him a soft kiss on his cheek.

Hermione turned and went to Ginny's room. As she disappeared beyond the door, Harry turned
back to Ron. Ron was already in his bed, so Harry followed suit and got into his.

“Hey, Ron,” Harry began.

“Yeah, Harry,” Ron asked back.

“Thanks for everything tonight,” He said genuinely.

“Don't worry about it Harry,” Ron said, burying himself into his pillow, “That's what
friends are for.”

Harry looked around at the ceiling, and thanked the sky for allowing him to have that night.
Things had never gone well for Harry in his life, and they were surely about to get much worse.
Still, he was extremely thankful for having that night of peace amongst friends. As he drifted off
to sleep, he wished he could have more nights like this.

-->



7. Through Hell and Back
------------------------

Chapter 7 – Through Hell and Uncertainty

Harry’s night had not been as peaceful as it had been the past few nights. His dreams started
tranquil enough with him and Ron playing wizard chess, until things started to get weird. The scene
changed to Hermione yelling at him for no apparent reason, and he was startled to find that he was
laughing at her. Then, the scene changed again. Harry felt he was riding his firebolt laying down
and for some reason he couldn’t sit up. He tossed and turned countless times in his sleep.

Someone shaking him roughly rudely awakened Harry. Harry was startled as he opened his eyes, by
Kinglsey standing over him, with his index finger over his lips, signalling him to be quiet.
Kingsley gave Harry some clothes and signalled him to quickly get dressed and meet him downstairs.
Harry nodded, and did as he was told. He dressed while he looked around the room and saw there was
no trace left of wrapping paper or his presents anywhere in the room. While that was strange in
itself, Harry brushed it off by assuming Dobby had come up and cleaned a bit.

As he walked towards the stairs, Harry noticed Ron was still snoring loudly, and the door to
Ginny’s room was still closed. He’d have wanted to say goodbye to them, especially to Hermione, but
this was no to be. He closed the door behind and walked quietly down the stairs.

He checked that he had his wand with him and realized that he wasn’t wearing his own clothes.
Kingsley had given him some pants, a shirt and sweatshirt which Harry automatically thought were
his. Now he saw that they were all black and the material was odd. He found the fabric to be thick,
but extremely light and comfortable. He found Kingsley and Moody waiting for him at the base of the
stairs.

“Took you long enough,” Moody grumbled. “Follow me, Potter,” he said, walking out the front
door.

Harry followed Moody outside while Kingsley fell in behind him. It was still dark outside, so
Harry figured he had only gotten a couple of hours of sleep. Sighing in recognition of being unable
to do anything about it now, he looked around and remembered that he had forgotten his things.

“Where’s Dobby?” he asked Moody.

“Who?” Moody asked, still walking forward and not turning to look at Harry.

“Dobby, as in my house-elf,” Harry pressed on, getting an uneasy feeling.

“Oh, right,” said Moody offhandedly, “I sent him ahead with your things.”

Harry wondered at Moody’s choice of words. He really didn’t know him that well, but he just
simply couldn’t picture Moody talking like that. He turned to look at Kingsley who had apparently
not heard a word of their conversation.

“Thanks for the gift,” Harry told him.

Kingsley eyed him curiously but then recovered quickly, with a smile.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he said simply.

Harry was feeling strangely anxious.

“It was really a surprise to get a gift from you,” Harry prodded.

“Yes, well,” Kingsley continued awkwardly, “it was just something I give to every kid your
age.”

Harry stopped for a moment and then continued behind Moody. Had he heard him correctly? Did
Kingsley just say *he got a first aid kit for every kid his age?* More important he said
*he* had gotten him the gift. There was no mention of Tonks anywhere. Tonks had already gotten
him a gift in the past, so it would not be as surprising to get one from her, but from Kingsley?
Harry knew now something was wrong, and there was only one way to find out what. They were almost
at the edge of the wood, when Harry spotted a large rock to his left. It was now or never.

“So, what’s Voldemort been up to?” he asked.

He saw Moody shudder in front of him at the mention of Voldemort.

“*Stupefy*!” screamed Harry, blasting the fake Kingsley that was behind him and jumped
behind the bolder.

The fake Moody turned around surprised to see a fallen Kinglsey. As he knelt down beside his
fallen comrade, Harry took his chance and rolled from behind the bolder.

“Stupefy!” he yelled.

The fake Moody didn’t dodge the bright red spell in time. Harry rolled back behind the bolder,
and then he peaked out form his hiding place to look for the stunned corpse. There was no corpse,
just a wisp of smoke a stick that looked like a wand. Harry was confused as to what had just
happened but decided that getting to safety had a higher priority. As he began to think on what he
was going to do or where to go, the darkness turned to brightness, as if someone had flicked on a
light switch.

A soft clap could be herd from above. Harry turned quickly to see smiling Tiani and a grinning
Moody, both sitting on a cliff above him.

“Impressive, Potter,” Moody complemented, “while slow and far from perfect, you eventually
figured it out. Things are never what they seem.”

Moody walked down towards Harry who was clearly angry with Moody for having him go through
another of his “tests”.

“If you’re angry at me now, Potter,” Moody spat, “get used to it. I’m not here to baby-sit you
or to make you believe that there aren’t harmful things outside waiting for you.”

Harry breathed in several times to calm down. He pocketed his wand and nodded at Moody.

“What is this place?” he asked quietly.

“This,” answered Tiani, “is a training room.”

“Room?” Harry asked unbelievably, he walked a fair distance from what he thought had been the
Weasley’s house.

“That’s right,” Moody said, walking over towards a tree as wide and tall as Hagrid. He tapped
the tree with his wand and tree became a large, finely carved wooden door.

“I herd from Dumbledore that you found a room similar to this one at Hogwarts. You called a Room
of Requirement, if I remember correctly,” Moody spoke again, “this is similar to that one, only
better. This room changes simply by thinking about what it is you need. There is no need to exit
it, and there is no limit to its size. The people at the Department of Mysteries have spent decades
looking for it.”

“And you just happened to know where it was?” Harry prodded Tiani.

“Of course,” Tiani answered, “I created it. This is the lion’s den, where the cub shall learn
and leave prepared. It is also a place that will help remember his past, giving him some of the
time he needs. You see, in this place, time moves at different pace, slower and faster at the same
time.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“What he means, Potter,” Moody said, motioning for him to near the door, “is that while we would
only have had a month’s worth of fun outside, here, we will have a year. Simply put, while we’ll be
gone for month from the outside world, in here, a year will have gone by. So like I said before,
Potter, I’m not here to baby-sit you, so you have to make a choice, because I don’t like to waste
my time. You must decide whether to stay or leave.”

Harry looked at the both of them and thought about what this meant. He would be locked in a room
with paranoid wizard who was keen on blasting him and mysterious shaman he didn’t know much about.
While that in itself was disconcerting, he thought about the larger picture. He needed the time to
train, he knew that, but it also meant he would be a year without contact to the outside world. He
didn’t even get to say goodbye to his friends, to Hermione.

“Not many people can survive under these conditions,” Tiani spoke softly to Harry, “especially a
man your age.”

“It’s not that,” Harry said, “I’d have just wanted to say goodbye to my friends.”

There was minute of silence that was broken by Moody.

“Well, Potter, what will it be? Are you ready to train or not?” Moody asked impatiently.

“No,” Harry answered, “but I’m ready to try.”

“Good lad,” Moody said with a gruesome smile.

“Where do we start?”

“We’ll start, Potter, by getting your body up to scratch,” Moody began walking back towards
where the house had been, motioning Harry to follow him.

The fake Weasley house was gone and in its place was a simple two story stone house. The house
was in the middle of a huge field. Harry calculated a radius from the house to the surrounding wood
to be about the length of a football field. Tiani was sitting in front of a blazing fire over to
the left.

“That scrawny body won’t support many hits,” Moody barked, and then swiftly turned and punched
Harry in the stomach making him double up and kneel on the ground grasping for breath. “See what I
mean,” he spoke down to Harry. “First Rule, always be on your guard. Constant Vigilance, Potter,
remember that. I will be teaching you numerous rules Potter, the faster you learn them, the
healthier you’ll be. Now, pick yourself up and run five times around the edge of the wood.”

“What?” Harry asked unbelievably, “You want me to run…” but Harry didn’t get to finish. Moody
had poked him hard on the chest with his staff and pinned him to the ground.

“Second Rule, I’m not to keen on having to repeat myself, or questioned for that matter. Like I
told you before, this is not a vacation nor some little Nancy’s tea party,” he released Harry and
helped him up. “Now, go to edge of the wood and run five laps around the house from there.”

Harry neither said nor looked at Moody, he simply walked towards the edge of the wood,
stretching his limbs as he went.

“This is going to worse than I could ever have imagined,” Harry muttered to himself.

----------------------------------------------------

Hermione woke up in the middle of the night. She knew she should be asleep, considering how late
it was, but something kept nagging her at the back of her mind that prevented her from doing so.
She sat up and looked at Ginny who was breathing peacefully in her bed. She turned on her side and
sighed, trying to find out what was wrong. She knew she had done everything she needed to do before
going to bed. She had gone to the loo, brushed her teeth, and had sent Hedwig to her house with a
note for her mum, telling her everything was okay. She covered her head with her pillow and
screamed softly into it in frustration, thinking again and again what she could have possibly
forgotten.

As the minutes went by and the blank ceiling was really getting boring, Hermione decided to get
up and go downstairs for a glass of water. As she walked down the stairs, she smiled at how
peacefully quiet the house was. The blissful silence was cut short by a loud snore she knew it had
to belong to Ron. She laughed quietly as she pictured Harry with his head buried under his pillow,
in a hope to escape the snores. She reached the kitchen and poured herself some water in a mug.
While drinking, she wondered how Harry could sleep with that racket. She finished her water, washed
the mug, and placed it back where she had found it. When she reached the door to Ginny’s room, she
looked up and saw that the door to Ron’s room was open.

“No wonder,” Hermione muttered to herself.

She looked at the door and a wild idea come to her. She had never really seen Harry sleep
before. She had seen him sleep in the Hospital wing a few times, but this was different. This time
she could actually see him sleeping comfortably. Hermione’s wild side was taking over.

“A peek couldn’t hurt, could it?” she asked herself. “I mean, it’s not like I’m seeing him in
the shower or anything. Hmm, there’s a thought.”

She slowly walked up the stairs, stopping slightly halfway.

“Gryffindor courage, don’t fail me now,” she encouraged herself.

She reached the landing and squinted as she looked around the room. There was little light
coming in from the moon outside. She found Ron easily, using his snores to guide her. She looked
over to Harry’s bed and couldn’t see him.

“Poor thing’s probably buried deep inside his bed,” she to herself. “He probably uses a
silencing charm on his curtains in school to be able to sleep.”

She walked into the room towards Harry bed. When she reached it, a cloud outside moved and the
moon illuminated the room, shocking Hermione. The bed was empty, and Hermione began to panic
instantly.

“Okay, relax, just relax,” she muttered hysterically to herself, “he’s probably at the loo.”

She rushed out of the room as quietly as possible towards the bathroom. She was moving quietly
on purpose because she didn’t want to wake the whole Weasley household, not yet at least. She
reached the loo, finding the door to be closed. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door
softly. Her knock pushed the door open, revealing a dark and empty bathroom. Hermione didn’t care
anymore about being quiet and ran back up to Ron’s room.

“Ron! Ron, get up!” she screamed.

“Huh? Um, what?” Ron blubbered sleepily.

He rubbed his eyes and spotted Hermione, “Hermione!” he yelled. “Don’t scare me like that. You
got the wrong bed, Harry is in…” his voice trailed off as his eyes cleared and saw the scared look
on her face. “What’s wrong?”

“Harry,” she answered, beginning to cry, “He’s gone!”

“Gone?” Ron asked incredulously.

Ron was about to start reasoning with Hermione when they both heard a door close downstairs.
Hermione ran down the stairs with Ron at her heels. They met Bill at the bottom of the stairs.

“Where is he?” Hermione demanded.

“Wow, Hermione,” Bill said, giving her a proud smile, “your good. Harry’s lucky to have
you.”

“I asked you a question!” she retorted, taking no heed of Bills complement.

“He’s gone,” Bill answered simply. “Left a few minutes ago, as a matter of fact.”

“Harry wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye,” Hermione said confidently. “I know he wouldn’t,
would he Ron?” she finished looking at Ron.

“No, or course not,” Ron said agreeing with her immediately.

“I’m afraid he didn’t have much choice in the matter,” Bill said, walking over to the kitchen
and pouring a cup of tea for himself. “Mad-Eye wanted to begin right away.”

“So? That still doesn’t explain why…”

Hermione was cut off by Bill's outstretched hand, signalling he wanted to speak.

“Moody used to do this with the aurors he trained,” Bill began, “he would levitate the aurors
out of their beds in their sleep, transporting them to the training facility. That way, Harry’s
training will begin the moment he wakes. Constant Vigilance, remember.”

“Bugger,” Ron said.

Hermione walked over to the kitchen table and sank into a chair. She put her face in her hands
and sobbed quietly. Bill knelt beside her and gave her a hug, the type of reassuring hug that only
a big brother can provide.

“Hermione, I’m sure he would have said goodbye had he gotten the chance. Don’t worry too much,
though, the month will pass faster than you know it.

“It’s not that,” Hermione said weakly, “I wanted to give him his present just before he left. Oh
this is all my fault! I wanted to drag it out; I wanted him to ask me for it. Now he’ll think I
probably forgot to get him something.”

“Hermione,” Ron said, taking a seat next to her, “we both know he won’t think that.”

“I know,” Hermione, said, nodding her head, “it’s just that now he won’t have anything to make
him think of me. I know it sounds selfish, but what if he forgets me? What if…”

“Hermione,” Ron interrupted forcefully, “your not an easy witch to forget. Just trust me on this
Hermione, no matter what happens in Harry’s life, you will always be in his thoughts.”

---------------------------------

Severs Snape was limping painfully through the halls of Hogwarts on his way to the dungeons. He
had just come back from a meeting with Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and to say that the “master”
had been angry was a huge understatement. Voldemort’s plans were not going as smoothly as smoothly
as he had hoped. Of all the creatures that Voldemort had wanted to rally to his side, only the
Dementors had fully joined him. The giants were still fighting amongst themselves and the goblins
were strangely silent and distant.

Of course, all of these problems paled in comparison to the biggest thorn in the Dark Lords
backside, Potter. The blasted boy had escaped him yet again. Year after the year, failure after
failure, the Dark Lord was loosing face, not only with the world around him, but with his loyal
followers as well. Every minute that Potter lived, was a constant reminder to Voldemort that he
still couldn’t eliminate a simple boy. Potter was growing stronger and wiser with each day, and
Voldemort reckoned that taking candy from this baby was going to get harder the longer he allowed
Potter to live. Because of all of this and more Voldemort vented his frustrations like any other
leader who refuses to find a fault within himself, but more importantly, loves to blame others, by
torturing his followers.

Snape reached his office and entered it quickly, closing the door behind him. He sat down
painfully in a chair behind his desk and turned to simmering cauldron that was sitting in front of
him. He had expected to get tortured at that meeting, seeing as how Voldemort had already punished
all of his other followers that had gone to Department of Mysteries.

“You failed, Severus,” Voldemort had said, “you failed by allowing Potter to bring his
companions.”

“Master,” Snape spoke in his defence, “I allowed Potter to go your trap without the help of any
of the staff. I didn’t think it would matter that five children…”

*“Crucio!”* Voldemort spat angrily, torturing Snape before he could remind Voldemort that
children beat his Death Eaters.

Snape drank a goblet full of the potion he had left for himself and tried to relax, but that was
not to be. Just as he was begging to feel a bit better, his fireplace erupted in green flames and
the headmaster’s head was there.

“Severus?” Dumbledore inquired, “Ah there you are. Are you all right? I could get Madame Pomfrey
to…”

“Thank you, headmaster,” Snape answer coldly, “but that won’t be necessary. I left a potion
ready for myself in anticipation of what was to come.”

“Very well Severus, as you wish,” Dumbledore conceded, “There are several things that I would
like to discuss with you. Could you come up to my office?”

“Yes, headmaster,” Snape said in his usual tone, “I’ll just change and be there shortly.”

Dumbledore’s head nodded and with a pop disappeared. Snape changed quickly and flooed to
Dumbledore’s office, he figured that the sooner he got the meeting over with, the sooner he could
get some rest.

“Ah, Severus, may I offer you some tea?” Dumbledore greeted cordially.

“If you don’t mind, headmaster, I would like to get some rest. Could we just get to reason why
I’m here?”

“Well, as you know it has been a week since Harry’s departure. It has recently come to my
attention that…”

Arabella Figg’s head suddenly appearing in his fireplace interrupted Dumbledore.

“Dumbledore!” Mrs. Figg yelled, panic stricken.

“Arabella, what is it?” Dumbledore quickly inquired, getting to his feet.

“Dementors, Dumbledore, Dementors here in Privett Drive!” she yelled rapidly.

“What?” inquired Snape in loud voice.

“Remus is outside trying to ward them off, but there are hundreds of them out there, he needs
help!” she pushed on urgently.

“I’m on my way,” Dumbledore interrupted, “Severus, we will talk later, get your rest,” and with
that, he held on to Fawkes’ tail feathers and was off.

-------------------------------------------------

Harry finished running his daily laps around the house. At first it had taken him hours to run
five laps. He was up to fifteen laps now, and he could finish without collapsing on the floor.
Harry had now idea had long it had been. There was no real way to tell time, considering that they
controlled when it was dark and when it light. What he considered to be his first weeks were
horrifying. Moody was certainly keeping to his word and not holding anything back. Harry was
running, swimming, hiking, and going through a gruelling, ever-changing obstacle course, every
single day.

When Harry had considered he would get trained, he imagined it would involve a lot spells and
charms. To this day, he had not performed a single bit of magic. He had asked Tiani about this
since the old man hadn’t moved from the spot in front of the fire since they arrived.

*“The stronger wizard, does not necessarily win,” Tiani had told him without looking away from
the fire, “Before the lion is ready to attack, it must learn to defend. You need speed of hand.
More importantly you need speed of mind. A lion is difficult to kill not only because of its
powerful offence, but also because of his intelligent defence.”*

*“Hagrid is a hundred times stronger than Snape, but I doubt he could beat Snape in a duel,”
Harry added, confirming what Tiani was telling him.*

*Tiani smiled and conceded “True, but strength isn’t always measured physically, as you will
learn soon enough.”*

*Harry had groaned in defeat.*

Moody walked over to Harry carrying a towel over his shoulder and a glass of water. Harry had
expected to be treated dismally during his stay here, but although Moody was tougher than any drill
sergeant in the world, he still treated Harry as a man.

“Well done, Potter,” Moody complimented, handing him the towel and the glass of water, “that’s
your fastest time yet.”

“Yeah, well, having that crup chase me a couple days ago made me faster.”

Moody had told Harry that he wasn’t trying hard enough and that maybe he needed an incentive.
The incentive was simple; Moody strapped a piece of raw, freshly gutted gnome to Harry’s waist.
While disgusting, Harry couldn’t see why this would make him run faster, other than the desire to
get it done with to escape the smell. A Harry was halfway through his first lap, he herd a loud
bark behind him. He turned to see a canine running full speed towards him. He ran with all his
might and kept the dog always a few steps behind him. When he finished, he threw the gnome body
into the woods, where the dog disappeared.

“Speaking of which, why haven’t I seen him again?” Harry asked Moody.

“Who?” Moody asked back, dodging Harry’s eyesight.

“The dog,” Harry answered, “where is it? And who were the people that were pretending to be you
and Kingsley when I first got here?”

“Well stop the clocks, the boy’s finally beginning to ask questions,” Moody growled at Tiani who
didn’t move. “Damn Potter, Snape said you were slow, but this was beginning to get ridiculous. It
took you this long to ask and confirm that it was only the three of us.”

“Three?” Harry asked incredulously, “then who those other guys? And the dog?”

“Those were your brujo’s creation,” Moody pointed to Tiani.

Tiani remained silent for a moment while Harry stared at him.

“So, Potter,” Moody extracted Harry from his revere, “why didn’t you ask about them before?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said looking around, “I guess I just assumed…”

Moody swung his staff behind Harry whacking him behind his knees, causing him to fall on the
ground on his back.

“Ha! You assumed!” Moody barked. “Assumptions, Potter,” Moody said carefully, “are the mothers
of all screw up’s. If you learn nothing else from me, learn this.”

------------------------------------------

Hermione was sitting on a picnic table outside the Burrow. It had been two weeks since Harry was
taken to train. She was devastated at first, but got worried when she was experiencing a broad
range of mood swings. She knew was sad because she didn’t get to see Harry off, but there was
something more than that. At the end of last year, Madam Pomfrey had given her several vials with
potions to continue to take. She had also mentioned, that she try to stay as far away as possible
from any stressful environments. This last bit of the nurse’s advice she hadn’t followed.

She contacted Madam Pomfrey two days ago, telling her that she had been in a highly emotionally
and stressful environment and that she was experiencing mood swings. She got an answer an hour
later telling her that Madam Pomfrey would be along shortly. Hermione’s thoughts were interrupted
by Ginny who sat next to her.

“Hi,” Ginny greeted.

“Hello,” Hermione said half-heartily.

“Feeling any better?” Ginny asked.

Ginny knew that Hermione was going through mood swings since the first thing Hermione did was
ask Mrs. Weasley if it could be related in any way to her period. Mrs. Weasley had dubiously told
her that, while it was typical to be emotional while on your period, only pregnant women
experienced extremities in their mood. Hermione quickly reassured her that unless it had happened
as an immaculate conception, she was sure that was not the case.

“A bit,” Hermione answered Ginny.

They herd a door open and they turned to see Madam Pomfrey walking towards them.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” Ginny asked her.

“Thanks, Ginny,” Hermione answered her with a smile, “but I’ll be okay. Its probably nothing
anyways.”

“Okay, then,” Ginny said, and got up and left back towards the house, greeting the nurse on her
way there.

Madam Pomfrey reached Hermione and greeted her with a smile, instantly placing Hermione at
ease.

“Hello, Hermione,” Madam Pomfrey said. “Well don’t look so worried child,” she continued, seeing
the look on Hermione’s face, “it’s not like I wasn’t expecting to get a call from you.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, still with a heavy tone of concern.

“At the end of last term, after your little escapade at the Ministry,” Madam Pomfrey began to
explain, taking out her wand and beginning to examine Hermione, “you were in a very delicate
condition. Although I don’t know exactly what curse it was that hit you, I do know that if that man
had been able to speak, it would have probably been fatal.” She stopped examining Hermione and took
out several different vials, dripping some of the contents of each into a wooden goblet. “Now, to
help you heal, I needed to use some potions that are not recommended for use on young girls because
of their side effects.” At the mention of the word side effects Hermione tensed up. “Don’t worry
child, there’s nothing wrong with you that can’t be cured. You simply took a potion that made your
body shift more of defences to heal its physical state while leaving you psychological state more
vulnerable. In short, the only side effect is the mood swings.”

“And how do I get rid of those?” Hermione asked, getting a bit more composure.

“Simple,” Madam Pomfrey answered, handing Hermione the wooden goblet, “take this inside and
drink it. It will make you sleep for the rest of the day, when you wake up, you’ll be back to
normal.”

“Thank You, Madame Pomfrey,” Hermione said, finally with a tone of relief.

“Don’t mention it child,” Madam Pomfrey said, tapping her hand on Hermione’s head. “Besides,”
Pomfrey continued while putting her things away, “you’ll soon be learning how to take better care
of yourself, and your friends for that matter,” she added pointedly, “this coming term.”

Hermione nodded happily at the nurse and thanked her again. Madame Pomfrey put her materials
back in her bag and disapparated, leaving a thoughtful Hermione alone on the bench. She turned to
her right and saw Ron standing a few feet away.

“It’s okay, Ron,” she said, “You can come over.”

“Are you sure it’s okay?” he asked doubtfully, “I don’t want to upset you again.”

Hermione recalled how two days ago Ron was the target of her wildest mood swings, by snapping
and yelling at him. It was a few hours afterwards that she realized what she had said and quickly
sent an owl to Madam Pomfrey.

“I’m sorry, Ron,” Hermione said, motioning for him to sit with her, “I shouldn’t have blasted on
you like that. There was absolutely no reason for me to blow up in your face like that, and for
that I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Ron said, “I’ve gotten used to it over the years,” he added with a smile. “You’d
just never yelled at me like that before.”

“I know,” Hermione said, looking down at the goblet in front of her, “it was totally uncalled
for. It’s just that with everything that been going on, and the potions I had to take, I just got a
little bit out of control. That’s not an excuse or anything, but I’m sorry nonetheless.”

----------------------------------------

The Order of the Phoenix was all assembled on the kitchen of number 12 Grimmauld Place. Meetings
were not unusual these days, but it had been a long time since Dumbledore ordered a meeting with
the entire order. They were all huddled together because of the lack of room, but Dumbledore had
insisted on using this room for the meeting. They were all talking amongst themselves until
Dumbledore rose from his seat.

“Friends,” Dumbledore began, “it is good to see you all, although it seems that a few of you
have grown a little greyer since our last meeting.” A thick nervous laughter sounded around the
room, stopping as quickly as it started. “I understand that many of you are uneasy about meeting
like this, but recent events force me to do so. To talk to us about this, I yield the floor to
Remus Lupin.”

Lupin got up from his seat and looked around.

“Thank you, Dumbledore. There are many things that need be addressed today, so I ask all of for
you to bear with me while I get through all them. First, I would like to talk about a recent attack
directed towards Harry. As some of you know, Dementors went to Privett Drive a few days ago. While
we all know that the Dementors are back under Voldemort's service, the fact that a number close
to fifty of them came to Privett Drive is a cause for concern.”

“I was under the impression that Potter was safe while staying there,” Emmeline Vance
interrupted, “Are you saying that the wards are no longer holding up?”

“Last year there was also a Dementor attack in Privett Drive,” Remus answered. “That attack was
ordered by former undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, Dolores Umbridge. That attack was a few
blocks from the house so we then thought that the wards didn’t prevent the attack because of their
distance from it.”

“In plain English, Remus,” Mundungus asked, “what are saying?”

“We believe that the wards don’t work on the Dementors,” Remus answered simply.

“And what leads you to believe that?” Elphias Doge.

“This,” Remus held out a letter written on black parchment. “It was left inside Harry’s house,
nailed to the door that lead to Harry’s room.”

They all gasped at the mention of this.

“How?” Tonks asked, “How did they get through?”

“More importantly,” Kingsley added, “how did they know which room was his?”

-----------------------------------

Harry was finishing his run faster than he had ever done before. He had already begun spell work
with Moody, something that proved to be an extraordinarily painful experience.

“I can’t tell you how to dodge, Potter,” Moody grumbled, as Harry lied painfully on the ground,
“that’s something that each person has to learn on his own.”

“Couldn’t we learn first with paintballs, or cushions or something?” Harry asked, trying
desperately to sit up.

Moody didn’t like Harry to take his time getting up, Harry had learned that with running and
Moody constantly whacking him with his staff.

“Of course we could,” Moody answered sarcastically, “and I guess we could also talk all about
spells and what not. You could also hope for Voldemort to appear in a ballet recital surrounded by
cherubs in pink leotards, but the chances of that happening are less than zero. I tell you Potter,
sometimes…”

Harry sat up and Moody immediately tried to slap Harry’s head, barely missing by and inch since
Harry anticipated Moody’s move.

“See,” Moody said, “it took you a while but you learned. You are more alert than you used too.”
Moody offered Harry a hand to get up. He pulled Harry up stronger than Harry expected and received
a crashing blow of Moody’s knee into his stomach. “You still have much to learn, though. It’s like
educating a child,” Moody spoke philosophically, “you can tell a child not to put his hand in the
fire because he’ll burn his hand, but the child will sooner or later disobey because he doesn’t
really know what a burn is. I say let him get burned, then see if the child is stupid enough to do
it again.”

Harry got up and looked at Moody. He had once thought to ask Moody if he had ever been married
or had a family. After this, he hoped no child ever had to go through Moody’s educational course.
Well, maybe Malfoy. Moody limped of towards camp, while Harry fell back towards the ground. There,
looking at the starry sky trying to forget about the pain in all of his limbs, he was reminded of
the first time he cured himself.

The first night that Harry tended his wounds was almost a bigger disaster than his first
training session. His first duel with Moody had given a broken arm and a deep gash on his left arm,
all part of Moody’s “painful education” plan. Harry thought he simply had to take a few potions and
he would be okay for the next day. Harry was sitting down next to Tiani in front of the fire.

Harry was beginning to get more comfortable with sitting in front of the smouldering, four-foot
blaze. They slept and had their meals here. Harry had asked why they didn’t use the house. He found
out why shortly after that. Moody had converted the house into his personal booby-trap central
slash obstacle course. Harry tried to stay as far away from the confines of that house as
possible.

Harry had lined up the potion vials in front of him, when Tiani called to him.

“Timomachitia pahtia, miztli?” Tiani asked Harry.

Harry looked at him with expectation. He remembered the meaning of a few words, like miztli
meaning lion since Tiani called him that often, but Harry always needed a translation.

“Do you know how to cure yourself?” Tiani asked again.

“Not really,” Harry answered, “I guess I would just take a potion and be done with it.”

“Ah, youth, a wonderful thing, but wasted on the young,” Tiani recited poetically. “Yes, simply
drinking potions is helpful and practical, but basically unnatural.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve bled a fair share and I need to be ready for more by tomorrow,” Harry
retorted, “so, natural or not, I’m taking some.”

“Your fatigue and pain create your logs of anger and frustration,” Tiani said mistily,” but it
is you who allows them to ignite.”

Harry eyed him angrily and uncorked one the vials.

“I hope you know how much potion would be wise for you to take.” Tiani said simply.

Harry had enough. He corked the vial and threw it angrily into his kit, cracking several of the
vials but shattering none of them.

“No, I don’t know what I’m doing!” Harry spat angrily. “Everyone believes I know what I’m doing
because a prophecy named me the freaking saviour of the world! Well I’ve got news for you, I don’t
know everything, and I’m just trying to get by. All I’ve ever done successfully is get by.”

“That is obvious,” Tiani answered calmly, “if you knew everything, you wouldn’t be here. My
question to you is why haven’t you asked for help?” Harry eyed Tiani questioningly, trying to
figure out what to say. “You have this, what was it that American called it, a ‘Me against the
world’ attitude. Sometimes, Miztli, the answers can be found simply by asking.”

“So, how much potion should I take?” Harry asked, feeling a bit ashamed of his childish
banter.

“Now let’s see,” Tiani said, grabbing the almost broken vial of Blood-Replenishing Potion, “this
potion is derived from…”

“You couldn’t have just told me, could you?” Harry said, smiling a little.

Tiani smiled back and answered.

“Give a man a fish, and you’ll feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, and you’ll feed him for
a lifetime.”

“You know, you and Hermione would get along great. What was that, another mystical Indian
proverb?” Harry asked, taking a seat next to Tiani.

“Chinese, actually,” Tiani answered, and began to teach Harry the basics of medicine.

--------------------------------

The meeting had adjourned and most of the members of the Order of the Phoenix had left.
Dumbledore was sitting at the table drinking tea, deep in thought. Lupin was sitting at the table
as well, still unable to understand what the findings of the meeting had been.

It was clear and proved by *veritaserum* that all had remained loyal to the cause. While
some considered the test to be unnecessary, it was decided that everyone should participate.

“We can’t risk to have another traitor among us,” Lupin had mentioned strongly.

In the end everyone had complied and passed every test, which while that fact let some rest
easily, others were still thinking the same question. It was Hestia Jones who voiced it.

“So, we now know that there is no traitor amongst us,” she said. “If it wasn’t us, than
who?”

Murmurs went around the room, no one with a defining answer.

“We have to look at this from a privileged information context,” Kingsley said, “besides us, who
else has access to Potters address, and more importantly, who would know exactly which room was
his?”

“You’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, are you?” Tonks asked him, a bit
alarmed.

“Yes, I am,” Kingsley answered, “until we have more evidence, it is the only viable that we
consider it.”

“Could you please explain to us, non-aurors, what in the bloody hell are the both of you going
on about?” Mundungus asked.

“He’s suggesting,” Tonks responded, with a tone that said that what she was about to explain was
the most obvious thing in the world, “that one of Harry’s friends has turned. That one of his
friends is supplying You-Know-Who with details regarding Harry’s life.”

Muttering broke out in the room again. This time louder and mixed between those that agreed and
disagreed.

“Preposterous.”


”Inconceivable.”

“A friend of his?”

“That is simply outrageous!” bellowed Mrs. Weasley, standing up looking furiously at
everyone.

“Molly, calm down,” Mr. Weasley urged her, tugging at her arm.

“Arthur, you know what that accusation implies? What it suggests? Our children are Harry’s
friends, his best friends! My children are no traitors!”

“Treason is only possible from those whom you trust,” Remus mumbled, silencing the room
completely.

-------------------------------------------

Harry was walking around the edge of the forest. Since Harry was improving, Moody had decided to
take Harry for walks to discuss everything they had just seen, and what was there to be learned.
Harry was surprised that Moody liked to take walks, considering his leg and all, but Moody just
laughed it off. Moody only spoke when Harry realized something or asked out directly. Moody had
rationalized that if he told Harry what he was doing wrong, Harry would never learn. Moody’s School
of Hard Knocks really knocked hard.

Harry had learned a lot from Moody. Putting aside the paranoid and blast-friendly wizard, he
knew a lot about fighting, curses, and warfare. Moody had been very careful to distinguish between
a battle and a war. To him, a fight was an unexpected run-in between two opposing parties. Warfare
or battles, on the other hand, was the strategic and planned activity designed to eliminate your
enemy.

“So has Voldemort been fighting or battling with me?” Harry had asked Moody.

“Good question, Potter,” Moody said, smiling at Harry, “a little of both would be my guess.”

“But,” Harry said, shaking his head, “I mean, he’s been planning to kill me since I was a
baby.”

“All I know for certain, Potter,” Moody said, “is that nothing ever goes according to plan.
Nothing.”

Harry nodded silently.

“Potter,” Moody said suddenly, “We haven’t talked about what happened in the Department of
Mysteries.”

Harry bowed his head, thinking of Sirius.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Harry said, still looking at the ground.

“Nothing to talk about?” Moody asked, “I’m not one for emotions Potter, but you have to let it
go.” Harry looked at Moody, “More importantly, you need to learn from it. Now tell me, what
happened before we showed up.”

“Well, I led my friends blindly into the Hall of Prophecies and we got cornered by Death
Eaters.”

“And how did you manage to escape them?”

“We blasted the shelves that held prophecies and the seers’ imprints and they distracted the
Death Eaters long enough so that we could escape.”

“Clever,” Moody said with a smile, “you improvised, adapted and overcame.”

“It wasn’t like it was planned or anything. I was able to stall long enough for us to get our
shit together, after that, it was all automatic. We just ran for our lives, its not like we really
knew what we were doing.”

“Your enemy shaped your strategy, since it was his strategy that had to be thwarted.”

“Running is no strategy.”

“True. Still, to survive a group of Death Eaters that big and suffer no casualties, I’d say you
had a damn good idea of what you were doing.”

“We did have a casualty,” Harry whispered, more to himself than to Moody.

“Potter, you really have to move on.”

“I won’t forget my past!” Harry yelled at him.

“Of course not. Learn from it. That’s what life is, a constant learning experience to define
what we should and shouldn’t do.”

Harry glared at him.

“Remember Potter, dwell on the past and you’ll loose an eye,” Moody said, pointing at his glass
eye, “but forget the past and you’ll lose both eyes.”

Harry glare softened a little.

“Your brujo is waiting for you,” Moody said, pointing behind Harry.

Tiani was, as always, was sitting in front of the fire. Harry had been anticipating this for a
long time. He had recently shown burst of uncontrollable power. He first thought was “cool”,
closely followed from an eerie feeling, causing Harry to question himself if he could handle
it.

“Sit, Mitzli,” Tiani gestured to a spot beside him, “we have much work to do before we begin to
use that power of yours.”

Harry did as he was told and looked questioningly at Tiani.

“Your questions, while important, will be answered at their appropriate time. First we will talk
and meditate.”

“Meditate?” Harry asked incredulously.

Tiani laughed out loud, causing Harry’s facial expression to look even more confused.

“Why is it that young people always, what’s the term, ‘freak out’ when asked to meditate?” Tiani
asked, still laughing.

“I don’t know,” Harry began to respond, but Tiani waved him off.

“Forget it,” Tiani said, stopping get laughter and getting serious again. “Now, you have
experienced several changes or bursts of energy on several occasions, am I right?”

“Yeah, I mean I didn’t realize what I was doing at the time, it just happened,” Harry
answered.

“Yes,” Tiani continued, “this was expected and gladly no one was hurt.”

“What is it that I’m able to do, exactly?” Harry asked, feeling doubtful of wanting to have
harmful, uncontrollable powers.

“You have an ability that hasn’t been seen in over 800 years. Do you remember that what I told
you about magic that day in your kitchen?”

“Something about magic being different, I think,” Harry said, scratching his head.

“Very good, Harry,” Tiani said with a smile, “I’m glad you were paying attention. Now like I
said before, magic was more natural. What I mean is simply this.” Tiani stood up and extended his
hands towards a pile of logs was sitting behind Harry. Suddenly the logs began to float towards
Tiani. Harry turned to look at Tiani and found him to not even be concentrated in what he was
doing. The logs stood up straight and followed by doing some sort of strange choreography, dancing
on top of the flames. Tiani sat back down and laughed to himself by seeing Harry’s dumbstruck face.
Harry recuperated a minute later.

“How did you do that?” Harry asked. “I mean, you didn’t use your wand or anything. I though that
wand less magic was a myth. Hermione once talked about it because she read it somewhere. From what
I can remember, those born with magic can do some sort of wand less magic, but that talent fades as
they grow.”

Tiani laughed out loud again.

“I should very much like to meet this Hermione. Looks like she was on her way to discover one of
the best kept secrets in wizard life.”

“What do you mean?”

“You see, Harry, my order was created to protect the magical gift. That in itself proved to be a
task of protecting it from itself. I am not the only remaining member of that order, we are still
here, and will remain here, protecting it for as long as it lasts.”

“I don’t understand.”

“In the beginning, magic was performed by people without the help of a wand. A wizard or witch
could simply think of what it was they wanted and with a flick of their hand, it was done. It was
simple, pure, and extremely innocent. Being able to do magic was a simple convenience. The problems
came when, as with all things, that innocence was lost, and the lust for power became important. As
with any society, problems arise, rules are made only to be broken, fought over, eliminated, and
finally re-established. It’s human nature, and it hasn’t changed since the beginning of time. I
sometimes wonder if it ever will. Now don’t get me wrong me wrong, there’s the good side of human
nature as well: nobility, purity, innocence, charity, self-sacrifice, even courage in some cases,
and love. Love is important. The problem is that those values are accompanied by their opposites:
envy, greed, covetousness, and many other impunities. Maybe the Greeks were right about keeping
Pandora’s box closed, eh?”

Harry looked into the fire, trying to sort through all of this.

“So how come things aren’t like that now?” Harry asked, turning to look at Tiani.

“Well, as with other things, people seem to enjoy finding a shorter and easier way to do things.
A “technological advance” I think it’s called. You see, the reason why the innocence of magic
lasted as long as it did was because it was extremely difficult to perform. Simple transfigurations
took a great deal of effort, and not everyone could perform them. Many died in the attempt of
performing a spell by focusing incorrectly.”

“Focusing incorrectly?” Harry asked.

“I’ll explain in a moment. Now, when things started to get dangerous, an idea was struck to use
magical properties from the most mystical creatures in our world in order to channel or tap easier
into our magical gift in order to perform the spells. While believed a barbarism and a desecration
of magic, the high council thought it best all around, and in the interest of safety, to go ahead
with the idea. “

“So wands were made,” Harry stated.

“Yes and no,” Tiani answer, smiling for some reason. “It was a long and arduous process to get
to wands. First, the correct animals had to be chosen, and for some reason, size also became an
issue. How big? How long? What animal? What part of the animal? The questions were endless. As with
many things, it was believed that the bigger, the better, and thus more powerful. So the first
creations were staff’s. From there it was debated that they were inconvenient to travel with so
rods were made. To make a long story short…”


”To late,” Harry muttered under his breath.

“…Wands were designed, and depending on the maker, depends the magical infusion, as well as the
size and shape.”

Harry was starting to doze of. He found all of this interesting, but sitting in front of a warm
fire simply listening to someone else speak was making him drowsy. Harry had been nodding for a few
minutes and suddenly realized that Tiani was no longer speaking. He turned to look at Tiani only to
find him staring back.

“Have a good nap, did we?” Tiani asked.

“Sorry,” Harry apologized, rubbing his eyes.

“Don’t worry about it. I was wondering how long it would take you to doze off,” Tiani said,
getting a confused look from Harry, “and since you listened to all of my ramblings, I might be
inclined to answer a few of you questions.”

“All right,” Harry said, “If wand less magic is possible, how come everyone bothers with
wands?”

“Well as I explained before, it’s not something that one can do easily. Children do it all the
time, although they are unaware they are doing it. You see, the more mature the mind, the more
clouded it gets. In essence, it believes what everyone else is conditioned to believe. That magic
can only be done with the aid of a wand. There are doubters, or those that refuse to believe the
established, or that something is simply impossible. They have wasted their lives trying to achieve
wand less magic, and while some have succeeded in the ability to perform a simple charm, they all
stop there. None has ever had the proper focus.”

“You mentioned that earlier,” Harry said.

“Yes I did, and that is one of the reasons I am here.”

“Meaning?” Harry asked, starting to get impatient.

“Meaning, you impatient sod, that I will try to teach the proper way of focusing.” Tiani saw
Harry with a stupid look on his face. “Simply put, I will teach the way to reconnect with the magic
you have inside yourself, and how to use it to perform spells with the magic that surrounds
us.”

--------------------------------------------

Hermione was walking up her driveway. She was looking for her key when she remembered she had
left without it. She wasn’t sure she wanted to do this. She hadn’t spoken to her father directly
since the eventful drive home from Harry’s. It was Ginny who had tried for days to convince her to
go home and make up with her father.

“Hermione,” Ginny said, “It’s almost the end of the summer. If you don’t make up with him now,
it may be a year until you get that chance again.”

*“He’s the one who should be apologizing,” Hermione complained childishly, “I mean it’s not
like I did anything wrong. Harry’s a sweet, caring, educated boy. It’s not like I’m dating Malfoy
or anything. I mean he took the news of Viktor a lot better, considering he was older, foreign, and
wanted me to spend time with him alone when I was fifteen.”*

*“Yeah, well, he probably saw that you didn’t really like Viktor that way.”*

*“Meaning?” Hermione asked irritated.*

*“Oh come on, Hermione, everything from your voice to your stance changes when you talk about
Harry. Your parents knew, maybe even hoped, that you would end up together sooner or
later.”*

*“Then why won’t he let me see him? If he has listened to me talk about Harry so much, and,
according to you, knows how I feel, then why the anger and the prohibition?”*

*“He probably just got carried away with the whole, overprotective parent thing, Hermione. I
mean, no offence or anything, but any parent would fear for their daughter’s safety knowing that
her boyfriend is bad guy enemy number one.”*

*Ginny had a point but it hadn’t convinced her. It was Ron who said the only thing that could
have possibly changed her mind.*

*“I don’t know about you, Hermione,” Ron had said later that day when she had complained to
him about Ginny’s constant insistence, “but as of this year, I don’t intend to leave any unfinished
business. I mean, ever since we got to school, or more importantly, ever since we met Harry, we’ve
had our fair share of near death experiences.” Hermione was immediately angry and red faced but Ron
interrupted her before she started to yell. “I’m not saying it’s his fault, or that he dragged me
along against my will,” Hermione calmed down a bit, “Devil Snare and Life-size Chess pieces, our
first year; Spiders for me and a basilisk for you our second year; Dementors our third year; a ball
our fourth year,” Ron said, smiling at her. “I still can’t figure out how we survived last year,”
Ron said sombrely. “When you think about it, we shouldn’t have. I mean I have never herd of five
teenagers surviving an attack from twelve death eaters. Hell, I’ve never herd of a group of
outnumbered aurors survive such an attack without loosing at least one person. Yeah, we trained up
a bit, but we still ran like chickens with our heads cut off. We should have died then, but thanks
to Harry, we didn’t. We’ve been strangely fortunate all these years, and while I hope that our luck
doesn’t run out, I’m not leaving things undone. You shouldn’t either.”*

*They had remained quiet for about an hour when Hermione finally spoke.*

*“It’s amazing that what a near death experience can do, huh?”*

*“What do you mean?”*

*“Well it took a fight with a troll to make us friends, and a run in with Death Eaters for you
to get serious and teach me something.” She gave Ron a warm smile. “Thanks Ron, I needed someone to
put all this into perspective.”*

Hermione took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. It felt odd doing so, as if she were a
stranger to the people inside. Before long, Hermione saw her mother open the door and quickly
embrace her. Hermione was taken aback by her mothers hug, but she loved the feeling and the
reassurance and love that came with it. The same one that only a mother can convey in a single
hug.

“Hermione, dear, I thought we weren’t going to see you until next summer,” her mother told her
still holding her in her arms.

“Me too,” Hermione said truthfully yet sad, “I wasn’t going to come around until then, well with
everything.”

Her mother ushered her into the house, as soon as she was inside, Hermione saw her mother reach
for her purse and keys.

“I’m just going to the store to get a few things,” her mother answered her unasked question,
“your father is in his study, I’ll let the two of you have some time to talk things over.”

Hermione thanked her mother and headed for the stairs. Hermione’s dad had his study located in
the basement of the house. Hermione remembered how her father had once joked about it being his
only “manly” sanctuary in women’s household. Ever since she was little, she loved to go down to the
basement and read in her fathers study. She had always entered without knocking or anything, she
knew her father loved to company. Today she decided knock on the door for the first time.

There was no answer, so Hermione breathed deeply opened the door. Her father was sitting behind
his desk in his leather reclining chair. There was a steaming cup of tea on his desk. Her father
seemed to be lost in thought, looking down on something in his hands. He looked up to see Hermione
standing in the doorway, making her even more nervous.

“Hermione,” her father spoke breathed in a tone somewhere between surprise and relief, “what
brings you around.” Her father appeared to come out of his revere and look at her again, this time
more alert and scared. “Is everything alright?”

“Not really,” Hermione answered, entering the study and taking a seat in one of the cushy
armchairs in front of the desk, “I don’t like what our relationship has become.”

Her father was taken about by her directness, he had expected that was reason she was here, he
just hadn’t expected to get right to it. Hermione, on the other hand, saw no reason why they should
beat around the bush.

“I asked you a question last time we talked,” Hermione began, speaking with a bit more firmness,
“In case you have forgotten, I asked you what was it that made you so angry about me dating Harry.
I was hoping to get an answer.”

Her father looked at her for about a minute. He sighed an opened a drawer to his right and took
out a thick file.

“Ever since I left you that first day at Kings Cross, I’ve been making trips to Diagon Alley. I
had just left my daughter on a train to go develop a talent I knew nothing about, nothing real at
least. At first I would just go when you would write about something that you obviously had
interest in and I would go research it so that later, when you came home, we could talk about it
and I would know a little about it. Like any loving parent, all I wanted to do was know a little
about what my daughter was going to be with the dream and hope of maybe someday being able to
support you in any that you needed. Two years ago, after your third year, I came across a discarded
newspaper named the Daily Prophet. While I had herd you speak of it before, I saw that you had
decided to not tell your mother about the dangers about your world.”

Her father paused for a moment and took a sip of his tea.

“I wondered why you hadn’t told us about it,” her father continued, “so I gave you the benefit
of the doubt, and as I hoped you would, you told us a little bit about your adventure and that
Sirius Black was actually Harry’s godfather who had been wrongly imprisoned. I wasn’t very
comfortable with knowing that your best friends godfather was a wanted man by the authorities,
however, I have always trusted your judgement so I decided to keep quiet. Last summer, you let slip
some information about Harry being abducted and witnessing the rebirth of this Voldemort and the
death of a classmate. I was highly concerned about you being friends with someone who always seemed
to be in mortal danger. So I decided when I left you at the train station to research your friends,
find out something about them.”

“You did what!” Hermione exclaimed. “If you wanted to know about my friends, why didn’t you just
ask?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” her father said simply, “all I know is that I wanted information from
a different source without you knowing yet. Now, I found next to nothing about your friend Ron, but
I did find out a lot about Harry.”

“Dad!” Hermione yelled, “I told you about Harry when you had just bought my first schoolbooks. I
had told you about him even before I met him. What could you have possibly found out to make you
change like this?”

Her father handed her the file. She opened it and found newspaper clippings that had obviously
come from the Prophet. Hermione was about ready to explode.

“This!” Hermione screamed, “This is your source! You decided to believe the paper instead of me.
I wrote to you and mum about this all of last year. I wrote about why the paper was doing it, and
about Fudge being a dimwit. I sent you a copy with the real story, the truth, what Harry saw first
hand. Now your telling that you would rather believe that he was an attention seeking
glory-hound!”

“Frankly, I would prefer that were the case. Hermione I reacted the way I did not because I
think Harry is crazy or imagining things. I reacted the way I did because I was scared.”

“Scared?” Hermione asked, “Scared of what? Harry’s the one who should be scared. He’s the one
with a mad and evil sorcerer chasing after him to kill him. He has ever since he was a year
old.”

“That is exactly why I am afraid,” her father said quietly, “my daughter’s best friend has a man
who’s after him with the intent to kill him. Worst of all, I know my daughter, so I know perfectly
well that you have been beside him in every dangerous and potentially lethal activity Harry gets
involved in. Hermione, I’m your father, more importantly, you’re my daughter, and as my daughter I
swore when you were born that I would always protect you, that I would always keep you safe. How do
I that when I can’t function in your world. Even worse, how do I protect you when you willing put
yourself in danger.”

“Dad,” Hermione began, now in calmer tone, “Harry needs me. He will never say he does, in fact
he will always do everything to do go on his own, but I’ve never let him. At first it was only
because we were friends. Then it was because he needed it. Later it was because of who he was, and
what he would face because of it. Now, it is just simply because I don’t believe he can do it on
his own, and will never let someone I love go alone to face something that is a lot bigger than
anyone thinks or expects.”

“I know that Hermione,” her father said with a tired expression, “but how am I supposed to react
when my daughter tells me she wants to get emotionally and romantically involved with a marked man.
I’ve read about this Voldemort, so I know a little about what he is capable of. Do you know what
kind of position you are placing yourself in? The target that you're hanging on your back? As
soon as he knows that you are involved with Harry, he’ll come after you! How can you possibly
expect me to stay calm and collected when my own daughter is making herself a target.” He took out
his left hand from under the desk where Hermione saw a framed baby picture of herself in her
father’s arms. “How am I supposed to keep you safe? How do I keep my promise to you.”

Hermione got up and ran around the desk to give her father a hug. She cried into her father’s
chest, a long therapeutic cry where all her frustrations and anger poured out. Hermione was not
crying out of sadness, she was crying out of happiness, her father was once again acting the way
she always believed he would act. After she calmed down a bit she separated a bit from her father
and looked into his face.

“Daddy, I know you feel that you have to protect me,” Hermione began, “but you to realize that
this is not something that is going to blow over us. Even you and mum might be affected by it.
Voldemort is out to take control, and if he succeeds, all muggles are in danger. You protected me
for as long as you could, now it’s my turn.”

Her father hugged her again and kissed her on her forehead.

“Can’t I just keep you with me, and try and see if it does blow over?” her father asked.

“You could, but it would only delay the inevitable. Yes, Voldemort is after Harry, but what I do
know for sure, is that next to Harry is the safest place I could possibly be.”

----------------------

Kingsley walked into Arrabella Figgs living room where Lupin was waiting for him. Lupin was
looking thin and extremely tired, considering that the night before had been a full moon explained
the appearance.

“You wanted to see me, Remus?” Kinglsey asked.

“Yes,” Lupin answered weakly, “as you know, I will be in no condition to travel when they
return. I am trusting you with Harry’s safe retrieval and delivery to Hogwarts.”

Kingsley studied Lupin for a moment.

“Why me?” Kingsley asked. “Don’t misinterpret me, Remus, I flattered and honoured by your
request, however you’ve known others from the Order for a lot longer than me. Based on that, why
would you decide not to ask one of them instead?”

Lupin smiled at Kingsley’s comment.

“Yes it’s true that I’ve known many of the Order longer than I’ve known you, but I won’t trust
somebody I know very well with Harry’s safety, I’ll trust someone who I know can get the job done
better or at least as good as I would. You know how to travel undetected and without drawing
attention to yourself. For these and many other reasons, I ask this of you. Do you accept the task
I ask of you?”

Kingsley stood up straighter than he already was and nodded his head towards Lupin in
acceptance. Without saying another word, he walk out and disaparated.

-----------------------------

Harry was asleep, experiencing dreams that appeared to bring comfort to him. Moody and Tiani
were seated at a distance, both looking at Harry sleep peacefully. Moody broke the melody that only
a crackling fire could make.

“So what’s the verdict, brujo? He going to make it?” Moody asked.

“Since the beginning of time, the ancients tried to define a foolproof way of defining a mans
path. To know exactly what was to come. While many prophets can predict world changing events, none
can fully determine what a man will do.”

“I don’t want you to prophesise anything, I’m asking for your opinion.” Moody said back.

“It’s to early to tell. We have helped him and given him a great advantage, but nothing is
certain. His adversary is a difficult one, and Mitzli’s allies have still to decide if they will
fight or not.”

“Of course we’re ready, the Order of the Phoenix was created for that purpose!” Moody spat
angrily, getting up and limping around the place.

“I’m sure it was, and while those are powerful allies, but they are not his chosen pack. In
Africa, there is tribe of fierce warriors. They can rise from a deep slumber and be ready for
battle in matter of seconds. While the entire tribe fights for the same ideal and purpose, like
most armies, there is a captain for each faction. Mitzli will command his pack, just as Dumbledore
will command his. Orders and commands form one faction to another will be respected, but in the
end, the judgement of each captain will count more. We have prepared Harry for that, at least, as
well as we could have within the time that was given to us.”

“Are you saying that we should’ve brought Potter’s lot here to train as well? They’re children,
most of them couldn’t tell their head from their ass! Yes, five of them survived in the Ministry,
but that doesn’t mean they are ready to take an enemy head on. They were running, and managed to
run just long enough to hand the battle over to us. They’re not ready.”

“There was once a young prince who led an army with the juvenile belief that he could expand his
empire. As he left his hometown, many believed that they would never see the young prince again,
for he was surely leading his men to their deaths. Later, news began to arrive home that the teen
had conquered a neighbouring town. While no large feat, many rejoiced at the luck of the young man
and hoped he would return home now that he was victorious. But the young man pressed on, leading
his army onto the next village where he was yet again victorious. Before long, news arrived
continually promoting the prince’s victories and the perception changed about this young man. Maybe
he wasn’t such a push over. Maybe he knew what he was doing.”

“I studied the Greeks and Alexander the Great as well, brujo, is there a point to your
ramblings?”

“Yes, Alexander was just a child, a teenager, who knew how to inspire his friends who were in
turn, his soldiers, his pack. Alexander was powerful and cunning, but even the fiercest general
requires those that he trusts around him. Mitzli will need his friends with him, for they will be
inspiration and the drive behind him.”

“I still believe that you’re suggesting to risk innocent lives,” Moody said with a huff, “This
is war for Merlin’s sake! Not some stupid Defence Against The Dark Arts after school club.”

“Yes war,” Tiani agreed with a nod, “it concerns us all, but consider Harry’s feelings in all of
this. You think he can find the confidence and the encouragement he needs by spending his time with
people twice his age, who will, willingly or not, second guess any opinion or idea he may have. No
my tired friend, he needs to grow in his own environment.”

Moody conjured a chair and sat next to Tiani, looking at the fire and thinking about what was
said. He had to admit, Tiani had a very good point, all Moody had to do was think of Molly Weasley
and the nail hit home. He now knew Tiani was right, he just wished he would have considered this
before, to have left someone with the instructions to train, at the very least, Harry’s prefect
friends, who Moody knew as Harry’s closest friends and who always followed Harry to the most
perilous of situations.

-------------------------

Harry awoke peacefully the next morning. He was surprised that Moody had made no attempt to
blast him or test him all night as he usually did. Harry figured that after Tiani finished training
him on heightening his senses, there was little point. He sat up and prepared himself for his usual
morning jog, we he turned to see Moody limping towards him.

“Glad you’re up,” Moody saluted in his usual manner.

“Don’t worry I’m not slacking, I’m ready to go,” Harry answered back.

Moody gave him his usual crooked smile.

“That’s good to here,” Moody said, “but unfortunately, there is no time. Our time here is
up.”

Harry nodded with understanding to Moody and began to pack up his things. When he finished he
walked with Moody towards the large tree that he knew to be the door. As they walked, Harry looked
at his hands.

“I don’t think I’m ready,” he said, more to himself than to Moody.

“That’s because you’re not,” Moody said, “we didn’t come here to get you ready, we came here to
facilitate your readiness. The way you are now, you can face the Death Eaters and even Voldemort
himself. As to the Death Eaters, you are ready to battle with some. In regards to Voldemort, you
are prepared enough to defend yourself and others long enough until you can escape or help
arrives.”

“I guess,” Harry said with a shrug. “I just wish I had more time, that all.”

“Everyone does, Potter. Everyone does.”

They reached the tree to find Tiani leaning against it.

“Why so sad Mitzli? I would have thought that you would be ready and eagerly awaiting to exit
this place to have some peace and quiet.”

“I would too,” Harry answered, “it’s just that, well, I don’t know, can’t I, or shouldn’t I stay
for another month here, just to be sure.”

Tiani gave Harry his usual sage smile.

“There are several reasons why that can’t happen Mitzli. First, the jackals that wait on the
outside must not be alerted to any change so that you can be truly surprising when you face them.
Most importantly, however, you cannot remain in this chamber for more than a month. It will seal
itself for a year to reenergize itself for when it is called again to service. While a twelve-year
period will surely leave you prepared, you must never forget what it is your fighting for, and for
that, you must continue to live your life and fulfil the experiences that any man is privy to. If
you were to remain here, you would lose your humanity, and that is something I will not allow.”

Harry nodded, and looked at Moody.

Harry lifted his trunk and moved towards the tree that now had the door ready. He tapped the
door with his wand and it opened. Harry was the first to exit followed by Moody and finally by
Tiani. Harry looked around and found himself to be standing at the edge of a tall mountain. He
turned back to see Tiani mutter a few words to the door as it closed and sealed itself,
disappearing into the rocks.

“So what now, broom?” Harry asked.

“No,” Moody said, “Where we are cannot be arrived by broom.”

Tiani walked over to them and shook Moody’s hand in an obvious sign of departure.

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Harry asked, a bit confused.

“No Mitzli,” Tiani said, turning towards him, “my task for now is completed. I will leave you
here and watch through the flames how it is that you are faring.”

“Will I ever see you again?” Harry asked, feeling sad about not having more time to get to know
the old man.

“Perhaps,” Tiani said, “Perhaps.”

And with the incoming sore of winds that attacked the mountain they were standing on, Tiani
disappeared.

Harry breathed deeply and turned to Moody.

“So where’re we off to?”

Moody took a string of rope out from his cloak and watch a lot like Dumbledores.

“Hold on the end there,” Moody signalled, “the portkey will be activated in a minute.”

“Yeah, but where are going?” Harry asked again.

“Kings Cross,” Moody answered, “It’s time for you to return to school.”

Harry smiled at the prospect, and with the familiar tug behind his neck, they disappeared.



8. Going Home
-------------

Thanks for the reviews, I can't tell you how happy it makes me to hear what people have to
say about my work, well my view on Rowlings work anyways =), especially after I took so long to
load Chapter 7.

With HBP coming out soon, I don’t think I’m going to finish in time, but I do want to update as
many as I can before then. With that in mind, and seeing as how I’m taking longer than I expected
to write these chap’s, please excuse any grammar mistakes I might have made. I am checking it on my
own, but there’s just something about checking your own work that makes me miss my own mistakes. I
also don’t want to ask a beta, which I’m lacking at the moment, to quickly correct my work. It’s
not like I’m paying them or anything, so I wouldn’t feel right to ask that of them. Anyways, hope
you guys like it.

- MuggleMike

Chapter 8 – Going Home

Hermione woke up to the familiar buzzing of her clock. She sat up, stretched, and smiled as she
remembered the past few days. After patching things up with her father, she had gone out to dinner
with her parents. Everything seemed so peaceful, so serene. For that night Hermione didn’t think
about school or Voldemort or anything. She just went out to have dinner with her parents. At the
time, she couldn’t remember when was the last time they had done this. It had been fun, enjoyable,
but when her father asked for the check, Hermione started thinking about the year that was to
arrive shortly.

Hermione got out of bed and decided to go wash up. It was barely sun up, but she felt refreshed
and energized. She was exited about today, she was going back to Hogwarts, reassuming her prefect
duties, but most importantly, she was going to see Harry. Her summer had been an emotional roller
coaster, but through everything that had happened, she had gotten what she always wanted,
Harry.

Hermione dressed quickly enough and looked at her appearance in the mirror above her dresser.
Her mother had bought her the outfit the day before. It consisted of a pink skirt and a white top.
Hermione had told her mother that outfit was unnecessary, but her mother kindly hinted that it was
worth to dress up a bit for her boyfriend, who she hadn’t seen in a long time. Hermione had blushed
profusely at her mother’s words and told her that she wasn’t like those giggly girls who loved to
doll up. As she saw her reflection, she smiled at herself, and thought that maybe her mother knew
what she was talking about after all. Before she could stop herself, Hermione was twirling around
like a six-year-old playing dress up with her mother’s clothes. She sat down had also sat down and
started fiddling with her hair. Hermione remembered how Harry had commented on her hair the night
of the Yule ball, and it was her mother who taught her how to fix her hair for the ball, so after
thirty minutes of getting absolutely nowhere, she called for her mother.

Hermione’s mother opened the door to room and smiled as she saw her daughter struggle with her
primping.

“Mum,” Hermione called in desperation.

“I’m here darling,” her mother, answered, “I see you liked the outfit.”

“Yes, it’s the hair I can’t decide on. I’ve got some sleek easy hair potion around here
somewhere.”

Hermione saw her mother smile to herself.

“What could possibly be funny right now?” Hermione asked, a bit irritated.

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just, well, you, worrying about your hair. I wondered how long it would
take, if ever, for you to worry about the, shall we call them “girlie” things in life. It’s been
hard for me, not being able to share these types of things with you before. Now that we can, well
it me glad that there is still something I can help you with that you can’t do only by reading it
out of a book.”

Hermione smiled and gave her mother a hug.

“So what do you think,” Hermione said, “pulled up, some kind of weird twist, or how about…”

“Pigtails?” her mother offered with a laugh.

“Mum!”

“I’m kidding, dear. Harry doesn’t seem the type to go for anything to fancy, so we don’t want to
alarm him with you having changed your hairstyle completely. Plus, it will get old, and take you a
lot of time to do at school. Why don’t we try this?”

Her mother took the sides of Hermione’s long hair and fastened them behind her with a silver
clasp.

“Mum,” Hermione said excitedly, “that’s perfect.”

“Well I’m glad you liked it. I’ve always been a fan of the less-is-more fashion. Besides, with
your hair like this it will be easier for Harry to pass his fingers through your hair.”

“Mum!”

“Just a thought,” her mother laughed, “come on, your dad’s probably finished loading up the
car.”

“Be right down,” Hermione told her.

Hermione got up, grabbed her bag, which had her uniform, robes and wand inside, picked up a
wrapped parcel and look at herself in the mirror again.

“Hermione!” her mother called from below.

“Coming,” she answered.

She pressed down her skirt, looked herself over again, breathed deeply, and headed
downstairs.

--------------------------------

Dumbledore walked down the steps towards the kitchen of Number twelve Grimmauld Place. Inside
sat Remus Lupin nursing a cup of tea.

“Feeling better Remus?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes, headmaster, thank you,” Lupin answered. “The potion makes the after effect more bearable,
but I understand that Severus has been quite busy as of late.”

“That he has, Remus. Any thoughts on what we talked about during the last meeting?”

“Same as before, headmaster, and while I don’t like using someone who might be biased and
unprofessional in their work, I think they are our best shot. They have proved to be… resourceful
in the past.”

“That they have,” Dumbledore conceded with a nod, “that they have. Very well then I must be off.
I’ll have them report to you as soon as they’re finished with their previous task so you can brief
them on the situation and what is expected of them.”

Dumbledore got up and left, leaving a tired and pensive Lupin stirring his tea.

--------------------------------------------

Hermione had been the first student to arrive at the station. It was no surprise considering she
arrived at seven thirty in the morning and the train left until eleven. Hermione had intentionally
wanted to be here early in case Harry showed up early. Sadly, there was no Harry anywhere to be
found yet. She secured a compartment at the back of the train. With everything that was going on,
she considered that Harry might want some privacy. She also considered that she also wanted some
privacy with Harry.

Hermione was walking out of the train to tell her parents that she would be fine, and that they
should be off, when she herd a small pop behind her. She turned rapidly to see a familiar house elf
balancing a very familiar trunk and an empty cage above his head.

“Dobby,” Hermione called out, startling the little house elf, as she walked towards him. “It’s
good to you again.”

“Dobby is happy to be here, miss,” Dobby said with a low bow. “Dobby is here to stow his masters
trunk for school.”

“Where’s Hedwig?” Hermione asked, noticing the lack of the familiar owl.

“Mister Lupin said she would fly to Hogwarts on her own,” Dobby replied.

“Strange,” Hermione said thoughtfully, “why would he do that?”

“Dobby does not know miss,” Dobby answered with a low bow.

“Well that’s alright Dobby,” Hermione said, angry with herself that she had made the elf bow
like that. “I was the first here so I got a compartment at the back, why don’t you take Harry’s
trunk there?”

“Very well miss,” Dobby answered, and without giving here a second glance, Dobby levitated Harry
trunk and cage into the train.

------------------------------

Harry landed with Moody in a dark and dusty room. He was happy with the fact that he had been
able to remain on his feet after using a portkey. Harry lit his wand and looked around the room. It
appeared to be a storage room that had long been forgotten. There were chairs and tables all over,
as well as staked pillars of wooden boxes.

“Where are we?” Harry asked Moody.

“Leaky cauldron,” Moody answered, moving past the labyrinth of debris. “This is an old cellar
that Dumbledore procured during the last war. It helps to have a safe place to apparate or hide in.
Come along, we can pick up something to eat upstairs then we’re off to the Kings Cross.”

Harry followed Moody, and as he did, the mention of the past war brought thoughts of realization
into Harry’s head. The second war had begun. He had just come back from a year of intensive
training. He was going to have to deal with Voldemort at some time or another. He was going to have
to cope with the death of others. Harry shook his head of his thoughts and came back to the only
thing that brought him peace, Hermione.

They reached the pub minutes later, having Moody choose a table in a corner, away from the usual
hustle and bustle of the place. Moody ordered a shot of firewhisky while Harry settled for a
butterbeer. Harry gave his drinks two sips and got up.

“Where in the blazes are you going?” Moody asked.

“Diagon Alley,” Harry answered, covering himself with his cloak, “there are a few things I want
to get before I get to Hogwarts.”

“I told you before that your house elf bought you everything you need,” Moody answered
tersely.

“He bought me everything on my list,” Harry corrected, “not everything I need.”

“What could you possibly need that you can’t buy through owl post?”

“Look,” Harry answered, “I just need to get some things, ok?”

Moody gave him a hard look that lasted about a minute.

“Very well, Potter,” Moody said finally, “go if you wish. Personally, I think it stupid and
careless to go shopping for some girl when you’ve got Death Eaters and Voldemort after you, but
then again, your brujo said that you should try to live a normal as a life as you could under the
circumstances. We trained you in a lot of things, but not enough when it came to you making
judgements and decisions, which you will have to more of in the future. So now is a good a time as
any for you to continue this practice. Off you go then.”

Harry stared at Moody. He knew that Moody was using reverse psychology with him, but Harry
didn’t care. He was tired of running and hiding. He was tired of being afraid. He had trained hard
to control his mind, and thus his fears. He knew he still had a long way to go, but if he couldn’t
walk around Diagon Alley, a supposedly safe and protected area, then he wasn’t safe anywhere but
Hogwarts.

Harry checked the fastenings of cloak a spoke.

“I’ll be back in thirty minutes.”

“Good, cause if you want to make your train, that’s as much time as your going to get.”

Harry turned to walk towards the entrance to the alley. As he did, he herd Moody mumbling
something that sounded like “…the fool, just came back and the first thing he wants to do is shop,
the bloody nancy…” Harry laughed to himself and went into the alley.

The alley was just as Harry remembered it, bursting with people everywhere. While he could see a
witch here and there keeping her children close to her as she rapidly moved from shop to shop,
Harry was surprised at most of the people’s attitudes and poise. Harry remembered that in a
conversation with Moody this had come up.

*“Most people,”* Moody had said, “*go about their daily lives as if nothing is wrong. For
them, it’s always someone else’s problem. What’s worst is when this, inexistent problem turns its
ugly head at them, leaving them as the worst whinnying lot out of all of them. “How could this have
happened? Why didn’t we know? Why didn’t someone come to protect us?” And all the while they
convince themselves to the innocent victims of chance or my personal favourite, of incompetent
government officials.”*

Harry hadn’t believed it when he herd it, but now seeing all of these people, he could tell that
for many of them, Voldemorts comeback ha the same negative effect on the as their favourite
quidditch team loosing a game. Harry felt a bit envious. He wished for a moment that his problems
were someone else’s problems, leaving him just a young teenager in love with a friend. Harry sighed
deeply and looked at his watch as he continued to move towards the bank. If he was going to be able
to buy anything at all, he was going to have to hurry.

---------------------------

Hermione was sitting on a bench beside the train keeping herself busy by reading through her
copy of Arithmancy for N.E.W.T.’s for the fourth time. During her time on the platform Hermione had
already paced through the entire platform at least twice, sat in all the compartments trying to
decide which one was the most comfortable, reread her prefect assignments for the train ride to
Hogwarts, rewritten her potions homework and had just about driven her parents to insanity. Her
mother had excused herself at nine by saying she had root-canal surgery to do a ten.

It was now close to ten when the first students started to arrive. Hermione’s father was sitting
next to his daughter with a cup of coffee and copy of the London Times. Hermione knew that her
father was only pretending to read the newspaper. He, just as she, was looking at each person that
cape through the wall into the platform. The majority of the students that were coming in were
either really young, being accompanied by their parent or parents, or Hermione’s age and older,
looking bored and tired, as they pushed a cart with their trunk on their own into the train to find
a compartment. To Hermione’s surprise, at ten thirty she saw a familiar redheaded group walk
through the wall. She closed her book and hurried over to greet them.

“Hermione!” Ginny called, noticing her coming towards them. “How’ve you been?”

“I’m good,” Hermione answered, “Ron, Fred, George,” she greeted with a nod.

“He here yet?” George asked offhandedly.

“No,” Hermione asked sadly, “and it’s almost time. Do you think he…”

“Hermione,” Fred cut her off, “he’s fine. He’ll be here.”

“And how would you know?” Hermione asked pointedly.

“We.”

“Just.”

“Know.”

The twins answered, still looking around the platform.

“Hermione, you got a compartment picked out already, right?” George asked.

“Yeah, it the second one, starting from the back, why?”

“No reason,” Fred answered as he levitated Ron and Ginny’s trunks with his wand, “we’re just
going to put these in there, ok?”

The twins didn’t wait for an answer, turning to walk towards the back of the train.

“Ok, what’s going on with your brothers?” Hermione asked, turning to face Ron just as soon as
the twins were out of earshot.

“Don’t know really,” Ron answered, scratching his head. “They’ve been acting weird in the past
few days.”

“Protective is what Ron means,” Ginny added. “A bit overprotective if you ask me.”

“What makes you say that?” Hermione asked.

“Well they’ve been bugging me about my past boyfriends…”

“Boyfriends?” Ron asked, interrupting.

“Yes Ron, as in plural, more than one,” Hermione answered, motioning Ginny to continue.

“Well my friends, who I write to, who writes to me, who are they friends with, a whole bloody
inquisition. It’s got on my nerves as a matter of fact.”

“What about you Ron? Have you been interrogated as well?” Hermione asked.

“Not really,” Ron answered, “I mean they know all that stuff about me already. They just pelted
me with comments and questions about Harry.”

“I don’t understand, why is this strange?” Hermione asked, a bit confused about her friends take
on the subject. “Shouldn’t you be happy about their concern?”

“We are,” Ginny answered getting a look from Ron, “well at least I am. It’s just that it feels
weird coming from them. Ron thinks it a gag, as if they’re setting us up for a joke or something. I
just think it strange. I mean, it’s like they’ve matured or something.”

“Yeah,” Ron agreed, “and seeing them act maturely is something I know that nobody ever expected.
I mean, it would be like Percy suddenly walking into Fudge’s office, taking off with pants, bending
over and singing a single from the Weird Sisters from his butt.”

“Okay,” Hermione said, slightly put off, “that’s strange on a variety of levels. Anyways, I
think that maybe you should appreciate what they’re doing and be thankful for it. Maybe they’re
trying to fill in the older brother slot.”

“That’s what Charlie said when I wrote to him about it,” Ginny commented. “I mean with Bill in
Egypt, Charlie in Romania, and Percy keeping his lips glued to Fudge’s butt, it kind of makes
sense.”

“I still think it a gag,” Ron said, making Hermione and Ginny laugh.

A loud whistle called their attention.

“Is it time to board? Harry isn’t here yet!” Hermione yelled.

“Relax Hermione,” Ron said soothingly. “If my memory serves me right, and it should seeing as
how we’re always late. The departing whistle blows when the train begins to move.”

“I know, its just that, where is he?” Hermione asked looking around.

“Maybe he travelled directly to Hogwarts, for safety reasons and all that,” Ginny offered,
getting no signs of comfort from Hermione.

They herd a loud bang, causing them all to turn, wands at the ready. They breathed deeply when
they saw it was just a group of second years crashing their carts into each other.

Without warning, Hermione felt someone take her from behind, curling her into his arms and
planting a kiss on her lips. Hermione was alarmed at first feeling nothing but the fabric of
clothes, but she quickly recognized the lips that were kissing her and kissed back energetically.
They broke off seconds later looking into each other’s eyes. Hermione felt tears begin to form on
the edge of her eyes as she looked into those familiar green eyes.

“I missed you,” Harry whispered.

“I missed you too,” Hermione whispered back, hugging Harry tightly, and feeling him hug her
back.

A light cough broke up their reunion. Hermione saw Harry mouth the word “later” to her as they
both turned to see Ron and Ginny, still in each other’s arms.

“Hello Ron, Ginny,” Harry greeted.

“I was going to ask you if you missed us, but it’s obvious who you missed,” Ron said with a
smile.

“Ah Ron,” Harry said, “don’t feel left out. Here let me give you a kiss as well.”

Harry grabbed Ron by the arms and moves towards Ron as if he was going to kiss him.

“Get off me you prat,” Ron said, a bit put out at how his joke had turned on him a causing
Hermione and Ginny to giggle.

“So, tell us all about it!” Ginny encouraged.

“Later,” Harry said with a cautioning tone, “Hermione’s dad is coming over. We’ll meet you guys
in there in a minute.”

Ron and Ginny nodded in agreement and left for the train.

“You didn’t have to tell them that,” Hermione said looking at Harry and hugging him tightly
again, “my dad’s sitting over at bench over…”

A sharp, slightly more base coughs interrupted Hermione. She turned to see her father standing
behind them.

“Dad,” Hermione said, slightly alarmed as she separated herself from Harry’s embrace. “I didn’t
see you walk over.”

“I don’t see how you could, seeing where your attention was focused.”

There was dense silence that lasted a few seconds.

“Hermione the train’s about to leave, would you mind if a had a quick chat with Harry before you
left.”

Hermione shook her head and said goodbye to her father.

“Take care of yourself, Hermione,” her father said, giving her a strong hug, “and write to us as
often as you can.”

“I will,” Hermione answered, giving her father a hug and kiss. “I’ll see you inside,” she said
to Harry.

Harry watched Hermione walk into the train and then turned to see Mr. Granger.

“Harry,” Mr. Granger began, “I…”

“Mr. Granger,” Harry interrupted, “I know that you know what’s happening in our world. I can see
it in your eyes. I can also tell that you know a little bit about my involvement in all of this,
and danger that poses for Hermione.”

“To put it bluntly, yes” Mr. Granger considered.

“Am I aware of the risks? Yes. Do I love your daughter? Yes I do. I love her very much, but I
have to consider your feelings in this. I can tell you this, it would break my heart to do so, but
if you ask it of me, I’ll stop seeing her and alienate myself from her. She’s too important to me.
I know her feelings on the subject. I would like to know yours.”

Mr. Granger studied Harry for a minute.

“I must say Harry that I am impressed,” Mr. Granger said. “I won’t deny that I would prefer to
keep my daughter away from all the danger that is to come, which primarily involves keeping her
away from you.” Mr. Granger made a small pause making Harry cast his head down. “However,” he
continued making Harry look up at him, “I have to consider my daughter in all of this as well. I
can’t honestly say that I would prefer my daughter to be miserable but safe, than happy but in
danger. I have talked with her about this, so I must ask you a simple question. Can you guarantee
my daughters safety?”

“No,” Harry answered, “I can’t guarantee that. What I can say is that I would do anything for
you daughter. That I can guarantee you that I love her, and I will most certainly do everything in
my power to keep her from any harm.”

“Spoken like a true man of honour, Harry,” Mr. Granger said, finally smiling. “Can’t be to
surprised though, Hermione has always been an excellent judge of character. I can see why chose
you. All that I ask from you Harry, is that you promise to do your best at protecting my baby
girl.”

“Now that,” Harry said, smiling back, “I can guarantee.”

The trains whistle blew loudly again as it began to move. Harry shook hands with Mr. Granger and
walked over the edge of the platform, entering in the last door to the train where Hermione was
waiting.

“Everything ok?” Hermione asked him.

“Everything’s perfect,” Harry answered giving her a soft kiss.

-----------------------------

Severus Snape was sitting uncomfortably in Dumbledore’s office. He had longed and hoped the
headmaster had forgotten that they needed to talk, but under the present circumstances that would
never happen. Snape rested his head on the back of the chair he sat on as he felt the exhaustion
take its toll on him. An exhaustion he hadn’t felt in years, not since the last time that he
decided to fill in as a spy. While grateful to get physical torture from only one side, he couldn’t
help but feel that this war was going to be different from the last. Since Voldemorts return, he
had become increasingly impatient. Severus sometimes thought that Voldemort was under some type of
time restriction. While the ritual to get his body seemed permanent enough, maybe Snape thought
that perhaps a bit of transference had occurred when Voldemort had chosen to use Pettigrews
blood.

Snape had concluded to himself that Voldemort was getting sloppy. He got to the height of his of
previous power by being careful, cold and calculating. The three “C’s” system Snape was very fond
of. However, for the last five years he has made choices that not only have they weakened him, they
have weakened his image, and thus, the image of his followers. Snape knew all to well how powerful
a tool fear was. Fear had been the banner that rallied supporters to Voldemorts cause and fear was
what made defeating his opposition easier. There were many highly skilled people that got killed in
the last war simply because they couldn’t control their fear. When you can break a man by simply
standing before him is a power that the Death Eaters had learned to use all to well. Now, it
seemed, Voldemort no longer cared about instilling fear into the hearts and minds of people.

Voldemort had made many promises to many different races and species that had suffered greatly
after his fall. The fear that had made some of them join him was gone. All that remained were the
unkempt promises and the bad publicity. Publicity that continued to enrage Voldemort every time
somebody reminded him of it. Publicity that bore the name and face of Harry Potter.

Potter. For decades now it seemed Snape had grown to hate the name and whom it belonged to. He
hated to admit it to himself but it was growing increasingly difficult to keep those feelings
towards Harry. Snape tried fiercely to stick some of James’s qualities and characteristics on
Harry, but try as he may, the boy always turned out to be more like his mother. It had been
startling for Snape to bear down insults and shadowed hatred when two very familiar green eyes
looked back on him. Snape was in no way growing fond of Harry, but there was something that made
Snape want to keep Harry close. At first Snape had attributed this feeling to being ironic that
James Potters son came to be in his class. The boy would now suffer several of the pains that James
had forced Snape to live during their school days. Now it seemed that Snape wanted him around to
find flaws within Harry character. It wasn’t difficult, considering that there were many, but there
was something else that bothered Snape. He couldn’t understand how this child could stay as simple
and as pure as he was now. From Snape’s point of view, it was impossible. Harry was a celebrity in
the wizarding world, he had what Snape had always considered to have a small fortune, he was
talented at sports and the list went on. With all of that, how could Harry have turned out the way
he did? He hadn’t turned out to be an obnoxious, ego-inflated brat because of skills nor had he
turned out to be a rebellious, hateful, and cruel person because of his upbringing. The boy seemed
to prefer live a quiet life, well outside of the limelight. For this reason, Snape wanted to keep
an eye on him. Snape couldn’t help but think that Lily had transferred more than protection when
she sacrificed herself.

He sighed quietly and lifted his head to look at the Headmasters desk where he saw Dumbledore
surveying him through his half-moon spectacles.

“Forgive me, Headmaster,” Snape said, regaining his composure, “I must have dosed off. How long
was I out?”

“Not long, Severus,” Dumbledore said, giving Snape a familiar smile, “I just came in myself. I
saw you resting and I though it prudent not to startle you.”

“Yes, well,” Snape began, shifting uncomfortably, “I have several things I wished to prepare for
my classes tomorrow, so if we could…”

“Postpone?” Dumbledore inquired.

“Yes,” Snape answered, “I still haven’t found out who the possible leak may be. That fact is
still a mystery to me, as it is to many other Death Eaters. However, Malfoy has been unusually
tight lipped. At first I attributed it to post-dementor syndrome, but now, it seems he knows more
than he’s letting on.”

“So there have been no new trials held for new recruits?” Dumbledore asked.

“There have been new recruits but Voldemort has kept them at a distance, outside the
circle.”

“This is not uncommon, aren’t the new supporters supposed to prove themselves?”

“Yes, but that’s what puzzles me,” Snape responded. “They aren’t acting nor regarded as
prospects. I only now of a few but heard there are more.”

There was a small pause as Dumbledore thought about this.

“Volunteers under the Imperious curse?” he asked finally.

“That would be my best guess, headmaster,” Snape answered.

“I have been dreading this for some time,” Dumbledore said, standing up and walking towards a
nearby shelf. “With the Ministry unstable due to Fudges ignorance, there are many who could fall
victims to the imperious curse, especially those who are driven by greed.”

Dumbledore grabbed a thin book from the shelf and returned to his desk. He opened the book and
removed a folded piece of parchment and handed it to Snape.

“There you will find a list of names that is divided into three columns.”

Snape unfolded the parchment and studied the list. The list showed names and Departments of
people in the Ministry.

“The first column has the full names of every Ministry employee and the department thy work in.
The second column holds the names of those who were implicated during the last war, but were
absolved for different reasons. The third column holds the names of all those who I believe might
be targeted by Voldemort for the purpose of extracting information, and those who I believe might
be willingly working for them.”

Snape couldn’t believe what he was holding in his hands. A list this detailed would be worth
gold to Voldemort. Why was Dumbledore deciding to give this list to Snape? Was it a test or was the
old man going senile? Snape discarded the latter quickly, but felt he didn’t want the
responsibility of owning such a document.

“Headmaster,” Snape began delicately, folding the parchment and handing it Dumbledore, “I don’t
believe I should be exposed to such a detailed document. The implications of Voldemort discovering
such information could be disastrous. While I appreciate the trust, headmaster, it would be safer
for the both of us that I know as little as possible in regards to such things. Voldemort isn’t as
trusting as he once was, and constantly invades the minds of others. I must say if Malfoy didn’t
say positive things to Voldemort about me I might not even be here right now.”

“Very well Severus, I wouldn’t want to put you in any more danger than is necessary. I will
still need your help to find those who might be already working for him.”

“Of course, headmaster, I will do what I can. Now may I be excused?”

“Yes, Severus, take care of yourself. Are you sure you do not wish Poppy help you with your
healing?”

“Perfectly sure, headmaster. Good day.”

Snape sat up and left a very pensive Dumbledore, staring at the closed door. A man walked out of
the shadows that lead to Dumbledores quarters.

“What do you think Remus?” Dumbledore asked.

“I believe what he said about it being difficult for him to blend in with the Death Eaters. I’m
surprised he’s still welcome. I still believe he might be playing both sides in order to stay alive
in the end, but for now, his actions and intentions seem honourable.”

Lupin walked over to Dumbledores desk and sat in Snape's chair.

“The parchment was a nice touch,” Lupin said, picking up the discarded piece and glancing at it.
“Has there been any progress on this on out end?”

“Buts and pieces, nothing solid to go on,” Dumbledore answered. “Kigsley and Arthur are doing
their best on investigating this.”

“It must be hard for them to do so and keep a low profile at the same time,” Lupin said, more to
himself than to Dumbledore.

“That it is, Remus.”

“How long do you figure before we can find the traitor that leaked Harry’s location?”

“It’s difficult to say, Remus, considering the number of suspects.”

“I’m just afraid of what else he might have told Voldemort, and dangers that will come because
of them.”

“We all are, Remus, we just have to hope that Harry can remain safe until we find him.

--------------------------------

The trio sat comfortably in their compartment, talking about their summer. Harry sat in the seat
on the left, next to the window with Hermione sitting next to him, leaning on his shoulder. Ron was
standing next to the door. The conversation Ron had started was something Harry never thought he’d
see.

“Hermione,” Ron argued, “we’re still prefects. We have to got to the meeting.”

“Ron, I told you, I’m not feeling well, so I don’t think I’ll go. You go and take notes. I want
to know everything that was said.”

“You want me to take notes! I don’t even do that in class, as you very well know.”

“Well then pay attention and remember everything, ok?”

“No it’s not ok. Since when do you dodge meetings anyway?”

“Ron,” Hermione argued, “you’re giving me a headache.” Hermione got up and walked towards her
bag. “I think I need an aspirin.”

“You want mouth to mouth, more likely,” Ron said under his breath.

“Ron,” Harry said, “Hermione wants to stay behind with me for a while. Could you go to meeting,
please?”

Ron smiled at Harry.

“I know that, I just wanted her to say it,” Ron said with a laugh.

“Urgh, Ron just go,” Hermione said, taking her seat next to Harry again.

“Remember to put silencing charms on the door, Hermione, I don’t think first years should listen
to a prefect snog with here boyfriend.”

“Out!” Hermione yelled, throwing a discarded Berty Botts Bean that hit just as the door
closed.

“Alone at last,” Hermione said, turning towards Harry and planting a kiss on his mouth.

She heard Harry mumble a few words and she turned to see his wand in his hand casting a spell at
the door.

“Harry!”

“What? You can’t be to careful these days.”

Harry kissed Hermione before she said another word. Their mouths met in softly, but the kissed
turned more passionate every second. Their kisses showed their feelings completely, the happiness
of being with another, the longing of the time they spent apart, their desire for each other, but
most importantly, the love they held for one another. Before they knew it, their kisses expanded to
touching each other innocently. Harry extended his had and felt the smooth skin of Hermione’s
knees. He moved his hand slowly up her skirt.

“Harry,” Hermione said, stopping his hand just above her knee.

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that.”

They sat up and looked at each other’s eyes.

“Boy did I miss you,” Harry said, giving her a kiss on her forehead and hugging her tightly.

“So did I Harry,” Hermione said, snuggling into Harry’s chest. “Are going to tell me about your
training?”

“There’s not much to say, really” Harry said, passing his fingers through her hair.

“Nothing to say?” Hermione asked incredulously. “You were gone for a year!”

“I know that, it’s just that it was a years worth of hellish training with Moody. It was not
something I wanted to talk about my first day back.”

“What did you want to talk about?” Hermione asked, a bit ashamed at her prying.

“You, and how much I love you,” Harry said, planting his lips on hers and kissing her
passionately.

Their kissed had lasted only a few seconds when Harry stopped and turned hard as stone. He
picked up his wand from the floor when he had left it and moved Hermione behind him.

“Harry what is it? What’s wrong?”

Harry raised his hand, signaling her to remain quiet. The door jiggled for a moment and
unlocked. In an instant the door was slid open, showing Malfoy and his goons with their wands
out.

“Potter,” Malfoy spat, “I’ve been looking for you?”

“Well it couldn’t have been to hard, considering we’re in a moving train with a limited number
of compartments.” Harry spat back. “Then again, you do hang out with Crabb and Goyle, so maybe
they’ve begun to rub of on you.”

“At least I’m not rubbing myself with a Mudblood, now there’s a stench you can never wash
out.”

Without warning, the door flew out of its place, and slammed into Malfoy, Crabb and Goyle. It
hit Malfoy the hardest since he was the nearest one to it. The door had flattened them against the
back wall of the train. Malfoy was squished like a bug behind the glass area, while Crabb and Goyle
left their silhouettes on the steel frame of the door. Standing there, unable to move, Malfoy saw
Harry walk towards him menacingly. Harry moved his wand over the glass and made a small circle. A
circular piece of glass fell out, leaving an empty circle an inch in diameter right next to Malfoy
ear.

“If you ever refer to Hermione like that again, I’ll end you. I don’t care what happens to me
afterwards, I will cripple every last bone in your body until you’re nothing more than a mute soul,
wasting away alone.” Harry spoke barely above a whisper.

Harry turned back towards the compartment when he herd “…we’ll see when my father has his
revenge he’ll…”

Harry spun around and cracked the entire glass sheet receiving a high-pitched yell from Malfoy.
The glass shattered outward, leaving a panicked Malfoy.

“Don’t temp me Malfoy,” Harry said.

Harry flicked his wand, releasing all three, leaving them stuck to the wall. Crabb and Goyle
came around rather quickly while Malfoy still stood in shock.

“Take him back to your compartment,” Harry said to the both of them, “and I believe that Malfoy
might be needing a fresh pair of shorts.”

They retrieved Malfoy quickly and made their way towards the front of bus. As they walked away,
Harry flicked his wand at them sending three yellow sparks, one at each of them. The sparks touched
their heads and vanished. Harry flicked his wand again and reinstalled the door to its rightful
place leaving it better than new. As he walked in, he saw Hermione sitting huddled in a corner.
Harry quickly walked over to Hermione who recoiled as he came near.

“Hermione, what’s…” he stopped mid sentence as he remembered what Tiani had told him while in
training.

*“You are aware, Mitzli, that when you use this new power, you will frighten those around
you?” Tiani had said.*

*“Frighten them? Why? It’s not like I’m going to use it against them.”*

*“They have never been exposed to this level of magic. What’s worse, it will be very difficult
for you to keep it concealed.”*

*“But you told me that I control my magic.”*

“Yes, Mitzli, you do, but think of it this way. When a baby is born, it does not poses the
strength to chew anything of substance, which is why they are fed liquids, milk mostly. As they
grow older, they can now eat watered down foods, which require little to now chewing strength. As
the man grows, so does the power of his jaw. Wizards today can’t get passed watered down foods. You
poses the strength of a grown man. You may chew through cotton candy or through a bone, its up to
you, but may never chew as lightly as the rest.”

“Hermione, listen to me,” Harry said, taking hold of Hermione’s shoulders.

“What have they done to you Harry?” Hermione asked, hugging him tightly. “I tried to stop you,
from attacking them by grabbing your shoulder when my hand burned as if I had wrapped it around a
burning log. Then I saw you manipulating the door at will. Things happened before your wand even
moved! How is that possible?”

Harry pressed his hand on her back, rubbing it up and down soothingly.

“It’s okay Hermione, it’s still me, I can explain, if you let me.”

Hermione pulled away and nodded as she wiped a stray tear for her eye.

“Well, it all started when I came home after my talk with Dumbledore about joining the Order.
When I came home I found…”

Harry stopped as he felt the train stop and students begin to walk out of their compartments.
They had reached Hogsmead and it was time to take the ride up to Hogwarts.

“Keep going,” Hermione encouraged.

“Okay, well when I arrived I met…”

“Oh good, you’re not snogging,” Ron’s voice interrupted.

“It’s not all we do, you know?” Hermione mouthed testily.

“Yeah well, either way, we got stuck with first year duty. We have to travel with them on the
boats.”

“Why’s that?” Hermione asked, “Is Hagrid absent again?”

“I don’t know, the Headboy said something about security measures during the meeting, I wasn’t
really paying much attention.”

“Ron!”

“What? It shouldn’t come as a surprise,” Ron responded defensively.

“Go on, Hermione,” Harry encouraged, “I’ve already made you loose your prefect meeting. We’ll
talk later, I promise.”

“Alright,” Hermione said, standing up and giving Harry a hug and a kiss, “I’ll see you
later.”

Harry walked out of the train with them into the cool night air. Harry kissed Hermione goodbye
and walked over to the carriages. He looked at the front of the nearest carriage and the thestral
looking back at him. Harry wondered if this was one the thestrals that took him and his friends to
the Ministry a few months ago. Thinking about the Ministry, as it usually did, made him think about
Sirius. Harry felt crowded all of a sudden, so he stepped towards the edge of the wood that was
next to the path that led to the castle. It felt strange coming back. Moody had told him that it
would be difficult to adapt to the old routine after a year of training. Harry hadn’t understood
what Moody meant until now. Harry shook his head and breathed deeply, clearing his head. This
technique had proven effective while training, keeping calm and focused. Harry sensed someone
walking towards him. He turned to see none other than Snape walking towards him.

“Wanting to make a big entrance, Potter?” Snape asked with his usual sneer. “Or did you want
Dumbledore to send out the entire school as a search party for you? You know Potter I hoped that
after last term you had learned…”

“I have,” Harry interrupted quietly, “I just got lost in my own thoughts, that’s all. I didn’t
notice everyone had left.”

“Really,” Snape said, looking at Harry as if sizing him up, “You know Potter, if your going to
get yourself involved in any more, what should I call them, extra-curricular activities, you should
learn to pay more attention to your surroundings, specially to those around you.”

“You’re right,” Harry spoke, looking directly at Snape, “You never know when a Death Eater might
sneak up to you.”

“Quite, lets get to the castle before Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley start asking about why you
haven’t arrived. You wouldn’t want to worry them now, would you?”

Harry didn’t respond as he walked over to the path where a thestral had just returned with his
carriage. Harry climbed in with Snape behind him.

The ride up to the castle was uneventful, except for the fact that Harry and Snape stared at
each other the entire way. None of them flinched or blinked during the ride, their eyes daring the
other to turn away. When they arrived at Hogwarts the still sat for a few minutes continuing to
stare at each other. Harry felt a prickle in his head and focused immediately, sending the jolt
back to Snape. Snape went wide-eyed and looked away. Snape turned back to see Harry getting out of
the carriage. From the floor Harry turned to look at Snape with a huge smile on his face.

“I’ve been practicing,” Harry told Snape. “See you in class professor.”

Harry turned and walked quickly towards the great hall, not wanting to face an angry Snape. He
had just successfully blocked Snape from his mind. Harry had almost broken into Snipe’s mind again
as well, which gave Harry a sense of reassurance and satisfaction.

AN: I know it was short, but I had to cut it off there.