Unofficial Portkey Archive

Hey everyone! I THINK the next chapter will be the last one of this part of the trilogy, not entirely sure if I'm going to be able to come to a wrap up place in that one or not, so I guess we'll just have to see. Anyway, so here's the next chapter, I hope you guys like it. Mostly from Harry's POV. I can't remember if I replied to reviews from last chapter or not, but if I haven't, I will try to get to that tonight. Gotta go to work now! Well, enjoy and review!!!!!!!

Chapter Thirty: Out Of Control, Losing My Soul

I wanna run through the halls of my high school
I wanna scream at the
Top of my lungs
I just found out there's no such thing as the real world
Just a lie you've got to rise above

So the good boys and girls take the so called right track
Faded white hats
Grabbing credits
Maybe transfers
They read all the books but they can't find the answers
And all of our parents
They're getting older
I wonder if they've wished for anything better
While in their memories
Tiny tragedies

"No Such Thing" JOHN MAYER

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Harry whistled to himself as he cheerfully made his way to the Transfiguration classroom despite the ungodly hour, hot scones in hand fresh from the Kitchens. Once he reached his destination, he knocked swiftly on the door, which opened immediately. Professor McGonagall was sitting behind her desk, a chair pulled up directly in front of it. Harry sat down in the chair and offered the older lady a scone. "Breakfast, professor." He greeted, taking a bite of his own scone and nodding his head approvingly.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter." She replied, moving the untouched scone to the side.

"So what will it be this morning, professor? Lines? Tedious work? Are you going to make me recopy the entire Hogwarts handbook again?" Harry asked impishly. "That was about as far from nice as you can get, I think. My hand cramped for a w-"

"Silence, Potter." Professor McGonagall spoke, pinching the bridge of her nose as she cut him off.

Harry immediately fell quiet as he detected obvious annoyance in her voice.

"Potter, do you really think you can joke your way through life? Do you take nothing seriously?" She asked shrilly.

Harry was taken aback. "Er…no and no…I think?" He asked meekly.

She raised an eyebrow.

He hastily added, "I mean no to the first, and no I…I mean I do take things seriously." Harry clarified.

"What are your plans after graduation?"She asked suddenly, changing tactics.

Harry felt slightly wrong-footed. He couldn't answer this in the middle of the day, let alone so early in the morning. "Professor, I…er…I'm not entirely sure yet." He answered unenthusiastically. Couldn't she just give him his lines and be done with it?

"Firstly, I am not even going to go into the fact that N.E.W.T.S. are just a week away, Potter, a week! But we aren't here to talk about that. No. There are programs one must move on to after Hogwarts to train you in your future career. Applications should be sent to the directors of these programs at the beginning of your Seventh Year. By the middle of the year, the interview slots are overbooked in most cases, especially because it is not just Hogwarts students that apply. They cannot take everyone at one time, there are waiting lists. You already know all this-yet you haven't sent out one application.

"Fortunately, there are special…circumstances…where strings can be pulled, afternoon teas can turn into interviews with enough recommendation and if the directors are feeling generous. In saying all this…" She trailed off and reached over and pulled out her drawer, then summoned a file with her wand. Harry saw his name written at the top, and couldn't help but notice how thick the file was. She opened it and Harry saw a picture of himself smiling up at her.

"What's that?" Harry asked bluntly.

"Your record of your last seven years here at Hogwarts-we keep a file on every student we have. It has your accomplishments, your marks, activities, duties, documentation of all important audiences held with professors, any serious injuries sustained while at Hogwarts and so on…as well as all reprimands given." She finished slowly, looking up at Harry over the tops of her square spectacles.

Harry didn't need to ask which one of those made his file so thick.

She began to leaf through the file, and words such as "delinquent," "detention," and "misbehavior" seemed to jump f the pages at him over the desk.

"You're an interesting case. Most files are average-average marks, average accomplishments, and minimal misconducts. They make sense. Yours, however…your entire file, Potter, is a contradiction. The paradoxical oxymoron that is your file is…is…encouragingly depressing!" Her shrill voice made another appearance. Looking slightly flustered, the Transfiguration professor pressed on, flipping quickly through the pages, "You have top marks in all you classes. You have been a positive member of the House Quidditch team since your First Year. You've been named Quidditch captain. Prefect. Head Boy. Been awarded a medal for magical merit. Taken advanced classes. O.W.L.S. in all your classes-"

"Not true, professor. I believe I got a T in Divination." Harry cut in, his face serious.

Without missing a beat, Professor McGonagall continued, "Well, in all of your important classes, that is."

Harry couldn't stifle his laugh. It wasn't exactly a secret that the Transfiguration professor found Divination to be complete rubbish.

"My point , Potter, is that you have excelled impressively in your overall academic career. No doubt the reason being your mother's insistence. I know she would never settle for you to do to anything but your best. However…as is Newton's Law…to every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. More detentions that I can count. You've been forced to copy the Hogwarts handbook three times in the course of your time here. Countless pranks and dungbombs and too much cheek in the classroom. You have been nothing short of a nuisance, Potter. An irritant. A pest! You have vexed me since day one! You are the proverbial jumbo shrimp! Explain yourself!" The older lady's words flew from her mouth with great speed to the extent where she was almost tripping over the words as if she couldn't get them out fast enough.

Harry didn't know what to say, or how to meet his professor's slightly bugged-eyed expression. "Er…I don't know how to respond, professor. I've never been called…well, any sort of crustacean before, to be honest, jumbo or otherwise." He replied innocently.

Harry was met with phantom steam coming from her ears, and not-so-phantom spittle flying from her lips. "There you go again, Potter! More cheek! I'm referring to this contradiction of a file you have. Why, why, why must you always test me?" She asked earnestly, tossing the file unceremoniously on her desk.

Harry suddenly felt guilty, "I'm sorry, professor. I…I don't know why I do it, honest. Sometimes it just slips out…" Harry admitted, not meeting her eyes.

The older woman let out a semi-defeated sigh. "You are extraordinarily like your father in that manner-which is no compliment!" She added to Harry's slight smile. "It isn't exactly the worst thing in the world, however, either. Your father was also quite charming-another trait you've taken on. But I'm not letting you use your father as a scapegoat." She warned him. "Now, I'll ask you again: what are your plans after graduation?"

Harry hasn't had an epiphany in the last few minutes, so he answer remained the same, "Honestly, professor, I don't know."

"Surely you've had a few ideas. You haven't narrowed your course list. Your options are above and beyond. Perhaps if you had been more impressive with Divination, you would already know your future." She remarked with a smirk…or a smirk for her, anyhow.

Harry laughed at his professor's joke-especially as they were few and far between. "Good point, professor." She continued to look at him expectantly, and Harry realized she was waiting for an answer. "Um…I dunno, professor. I-I guess…I mean, I've thought about seeing how far I can go with Quidditch; my dad keeps bringing that up and has me meet scouts from different teams. Or maybe following in my mother's footsteps…she'd love to have her son, the Healer. Maybe the Weird Sisters need a brother...I don't think Ron and Draco really want to take the band anywhere." Harry chuckled quietly at the thought of being the only male in the famous all-female band.

Professor McGonagall nodded. "So you have thought about this…or listened to other people thinking about this, at least."

Harry shrugged. "I guess."

"So I've heard what everyone else wants you to be…what do you want to be?" She asked, her voice taking on a softer tone.

Harry didn't have a response. It was true that pursuing these careers would please other people…but would they really bring pleasure to him?

"Just as I thought. Now this brings us to the topic of your detention. We are going to go to the Library. You are going to compound a list of ten occupations you are interested in. Then I want you to narrow that list down to five that we will discuss. You will then pick three and research the requirements needed to begin the programs for those occupations. Finally, you will be sending your letters of recommendation to the directors of those three programs, begging for an interview." His professor explained smugly.

"I've got letters of recommendation?" Harry asked, surprised. "Are those in my file too?"

"Not yet. You will go around to each professor whose lessons are a requirement in the field you are interested in, discuss with them the career option you are looking at, and ask for a letter of recommendation to owl to each director of the programs you need to get accepted into. They are to be on my desk by Friday." Professor McGonagall said matter-of-factly.

Harry grimaced. "Can't you just hang me upside down by my toes and let Filch beat me with chains?"

"Potter, you have worked very hard these last seven years. Your mother has pushed you to do your best. I have pushed you to do your best. Don't you see the waste in throwing it all away just because you have procrastinated in making these decisions? Pardon my language, but a `kick in the arse' can only go so far." She asked, her mouth forming a thin line.

Choosing his words carefully, Harry countered her with a question of his own, "What I don't understand, professor, while appreciating the `kick in the arse'-which I just want to point out that while you are already my favorite professor, that got you like a billion professor points with me-anyway, this kick in the arse you are giving me…I know I'm not the only one here that hasn't made plans after graduation. Why are you making a big deal with me? I'm not trying to be cheeky, I'm genuinely curious." Harry explained.

The thin line curved ever so slightly into a smile. "Like I said, you are an even better charmer than your father. Over the last seven years, you have become a…favorite pupil of mine." She admitted slowly.

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "If I remember right, you never showed favoritism, professor. It is unethical."

"Which is why you will never hear me say that again, Potter." She replied smoothly.

"I've got it on record that now only did you swear, but you're showing favoritism. I think I've got blackmail for life, professor."

She shot him a look as if daring him to even think about it.

"What are you going to do with me, your favorite proverbial jumbo shrimp?" Harry asked, grinning.

With a sly smile of her own, she replied, "Hours of research ahead of you in the Library seems like a good place to start."

With the smile effectively gone from his face, Harry nodded in defeat as he got up from his chair and his professor stood as well before she picked up a bag that Harry knew contained her needlework. "Professor…?" He asked slowly, "Are…are you going to eat that scone?" He looked at it longingly with a hopeful smile.

"Yes." She replied as she picked up the breakfast item and took a satisfying bite, much to Harry's disappointment. It was still a long while before lunch. If he had known this was going to last so long, he would have gotten a few more scones!

"If I carry your bag, can I at least get a sniff?" He called from behind her as they made their way down the corridor.

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"Welcome to the real world", she said to me
Condescendingly
Take a seat
Take your life
Plot it out in black and white
Well I never lived the dreams of the prom kings
And the drama queens
I'd like to think the best of me
Is still hiding
Up my sleeve

They love to tell you
Stay inside the lines
But something's better
On the other side

"No Such Thing" JOHN MAYER

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There was no worse hell than this, Harry decided. His Head of House had finally found the perfect punishment. Mindless hours of pouring over books, weighing the pros and cons of each occupation he was interested in…this was the sort of work that caused a headache.

Then of course, she had taken him on a guilt trip to ensure that he wouldn't take any shortcuts. She reminded me of how hard he had worked. How much his mother had nagged him about his schoolwork and his future? He didn't want to disappoint his parents-he was their only child. How if he didn't take this seriously, he was wasting his time, her time, the professors he had to get letters of recommendation from time, and finally, the directors' he would be applying to time-and if he did this, after she put her neck out there for him, it would make her look bad if he didn't take this seriously.

No shortcuts. No more procrastinating. It was time to make a decision.

The hard part was, there were too many choices. Did he want to be a wandmaker's assistant? Not likely. A magizoologist? He hadn't taken Care of Magical Creatures these last two years, so he doubted he even had enough desire for the field. He knew Ron's brother Charlie was a dragonologist, but Harry didn't want something breathing fire that close to his…well, his anything. Joining the Magical Law Enforcement Squad didn't sound too bad. Harry added that to his already poor list:

Healer

Quidditch Player

Curse-Breaker

Unspeakable

Magical Law Enforcement Squad

Harry considered his father's career in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Was that something he was interested in? He thought about the time when Percy Weasley went on and on about a report on regulating cauldron thickness amongst the body of international standard trading. That didn't interest him even the slightest.

Harry grabbed another book and flipped through it mindlessly, looking for anything that would spark his interest. He wanted to do something he would enjoy doing. Maybe something to help people. Harry tossed the book aside and picked up a second book. Looking up, he wasn't surprised to see Hermione over at her usual table with Veronica and Dennis, her two favorite First Years. She was helping them with exams, no doubt. Harry smiled and looked back down at his list, considering, as the view had given him another idea.

Sirius had fun with his job. And helped shape each new generation of Hogwarts students. With a shrug, Harry added `Professor' to the list.

Harry leafed through another book about Magical Law Enforcement and all the divisions of it. There was the Wizengambot. There were those specializing in dealing with the misuse of Muggle artifacts like Ron's dad. The Aurors who were the elite team that went after the bad guys. Those that dealt with the improper use of magic like underage Wizards and those that were in danger of exposing the secret of the Wizarding World. Which one suited him? Muggle artifacts didn't interest him as he already knew all about them because of his mother and her determination to bring him up in both a Muggle and Wizard lifestyle, and he didn't want to play jury. An Auror…that was where all the action was. Harry read the description and felt a chill run down his spine. If all this Voldemort nonsense was in fact true and the prophecy was really going to come to fruitarian eventually…wouldn't this be good training? He had always loved Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Harry added it to the list, and just to have another item, he added the even more specialized and elite Hit Wizard.

So he now had seven possible professions. And he had already spent almost two hours just on that. With a sigh, he scrawled down a few more bogus occupations that he knew he was just going to cross off his list. After all, he had found a few that really did interest him, so he was really cheating, only technically. Once he had his list of ten, he narrowed it down to his six. He needed to mark off one more to show his Head of House:

Healer

Quidditch Player

Curse-Breaker

Unspeakable

Department of Magical Law Enforcement Squad

Professor

Auror

Hit Wizard

Obliviator

Knight Bus Conductor

The tip of Harry's pen hovered over the remaining options. He hadn't expected it to be this difficult to narrow it down now that he had a few ideas in mind. Finally, he scratched off one more then made his way over to his professor.

"Healer, Quidditch Player, Professor, Auror, and Hit Wizard." She read off, looking at his ideas.

Harry nodded.

She raised an eyebrow. "A professor? For what subject?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts." Harry answered automatically without thinking.

She nodded. "An Auror and Hit Wizard?"

"They seem like logical choices. I want to help people, protect them. I realized the training is very rigorous but…they only take the best right? And then the best of the best? With that much responsibility…it only seems logical for it to be difficult." Harry replied with a shrug.

She nodded. "I see you are sticking with Healer and Quidditch player." She pointed out.

"Being a Healer would mean helping people. And Quidditch is a passion of mine." Harry defended the dreams his parents had for him.

"Can you narrow it down, or should we talk further?" Professor McGonagall asked, handing him back his list.

As Harry looked at the list, the obvious choices glared up at him. He knew it was going to upset his father, but he wanted to keep Quidditch a passion, not an obligation. And as far as a Hit Wizard was concerned…he would have to learn to crawl before he could walk. Harry put a strike through two more options.

His professor nodded approvingly. "Now I want a full description and requirements for the careers of a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, an Auror, and a Healer." She dismissed him.

Harry decided making a chart would be the most efficient way to present his findings and made quick work of it because he had already read most of the material on the professions that was required. In under an hour, he had his chart filled out and ready for inspection.

• AUROR-

• • DESCRIPTION

• • PROGGRAMS/TRAINING

  • • *Auror Training Camp

    • Aptitude and Character tests

    • *Physical and Mental wellness tests

    • *Tests in Potion Making, Defense, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, Stealth

  • LETTERS OF RECOMMENDATION

  • • *Prof. McGonagall

    • *Prof. Black

    • *Prof. Sprout

    • Prof. Flitwick

    • *Prof. Snape

• HEALER-

• • DESCRIPTION

  • • tend to the sick and injured-

    • St. Mungo's

    • *Quidditch

    • *Hogwarts

    • *Spells, Potions, herbs

  • EDUCATION REQUIREMENTS

  • • *E in Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts on N.E.W.T.S.

• • LETTERS OF RECOMMENDATION

  • • *Prof. McGonagall

    • *Prof. Black

    • *Prof. Sprout

    • *Prof. Flitwick

    • *Mad. Pomfrey

    • *Prof. Snape

• PROFESSOR-

• • DESCRIPTION

  • • *Teach jumbo shrimps magic tricks-haha kidding

    • *Educate future generations on Defense Against the Dark Arts, integrity, life, their future goals and generally shaping adolescent wizards/witches

  • EDUCATION REQUIREMENTS

  • • *None necessary

    • *Preferred E in Defense Against Dark Arts in O.W.L.S. and N.E.W.T.S.

  • PROGRAMS/TRAINING

  • • *None necessary

    • *Preferred 1-2 years training under current Professor or Defense Against the Dark Arts related work

  • LETTERS OF RECOMMENDATION

  • • *Prof. Black

    • *Head. Dumbledore

"This is exactly right." Professor McGonagall said approvingly, looking over Harry's chart. She chastised him only slightly for his magic tricks comment. Recommendation

"So now what?" Harry asked, already dreading the next part of the assignment.

"Like we discussed, you will take this chart to each of these professor, explain your career goals and why their particular field of expertise is needed, and ask if they will write you a letter of recommendation to send to the directors. You will schedule a meeting with the Headmaster to discuss your aspirations to become a professor, as well as go over the duties and such with Professor Black." She explained, cleaning up her needlework. "You have until seven on Friday to have gathered them all."

"What if they won't give me a letter?" Harry asked, one particular professor in mind.

"Then we well be back here again next Saturday, and start the entire process over again until you find three programs that you can be recommended for. Any questions?" She asked sternly.

Harry shook his head, and before she could find anything else to tell him, he bade her a quick good-bye and rushed from the Library.

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"You have got to be kidding me, mate! She made you do all that, and you've got to beg that slimy git for a favor?!" Ron asked, disgusted.

Harry nodded in agreement as he chewed his food. "I know. He's never going to help me. I could be a better Potioneer than him, and he still wouldn't give me a recommendation to scrape gum from under the seats on the Knight Bus!" Harry complained.

"Well I think it's a great idea! Professor McGonagall's punishment was brilliant, and completely helpful at the same time!" Hermione put in, defending the Transfiguration professor's methods.

Draco laughed. "Yeah, she's brilliant all right-I think she found the cure for misbehavior. If she put all the miscreants through that torture, no one would step out of line!"

Hermione disagreed. "I'd hardly call that torture. It shows that someone cares about what your plans are!"

The three boys shrugged unanimously and continued to eat their lunch.

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By Tuesday, Harry had his recommendation letters from Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout, as well as Madam Pomfrey. He had set up a brief meeting with the Headmaster and discussed his possible future employment at Hogwarts. The Headmaster had told him that after some field experience, he would be happy to interview Harry as a potential professor for his school once the position opened up. Harry assured him he was in no hurry to return to Hogwarts as a professor, and he appreciated the Headmaster's advice in the matter.

After classes that Tuesday afternoon, Harry went back to Sirius's classroom and pulled up a chair in front of his godfather's desk.

"Minerva's assignment?" Sirius asked with a bark of laughter.

Harry nodded. "Do I really have to give the whole speech, or will you just give me my letters of recommendation and be done with it?" Harry asked, assuming the latter.

Sirius shook his head. "Oh no. I was given strict orders from Minerva that I was to be very professional about this. No jokes. No laughing. I don't even think I'm allowed to breathe loud." He made a mock suffocating face.

Harry groaned. "I was afraid of that. Well okay…er…I want to be an Auror or Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Or a Healer. Recommend me?" Harry asked with a winning smile.

Sirius laughed. "Nope. Not convinced. Let's start with one at a time, shall we? A Healer, huh? Now where did you get that idea?" He asked with fake astonishment.

Harry shrugged. "Mum helps people, and she's happy. I know it would make me happy to be able to help people. And I know I could do it. It is a difficult job that a lot of people won't undertake because of how hard it is, but if I know I'm one of those that could handle it…why wouldn't I try, you know?"

"Plus you would be making bank." Sirius pointed out, crossing his arms across his chest.

Harry laughed. "Yeah, and that."

"Okay, and how does Defense Against the Dark Arts play a role in becoming a Healer?" Sirius asked, pulling out a roll of parchment. "Minerva gave me questions to ask-I don't think she trusts me!" His godfather complained.

Harry saw that he wasn't going to get out of this the easy way, and so he went into all the different aspects of Sirius's class with each of his career choices, pulling out his chart to show his godfather.

After half an hour of briefly discussing each aspect of the programs, Sirius pulled out a three scrolls of parchment and handed them his godson. "This should be sufficient for your recommendation." He concluded with wink.

Harry stowed the scrolls in his bag.

"You picked three good careers." Sirius noted. "What took you so long?" He inquired thoughtfully.

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. I guess...I felt…or still feel I guess…that this is all just happening too fast. I don't feel mature enough to make these decisions, or ready…or anything really. But if I had to choose right now, these are my choices."

"I know what you mean. I've always said they push these things on students too early. Young witches and wizards get sucked into this program or that one and before they know it…they have money and months or sometimes years invested into careers they don't even want. Everyone pressured them to pick a future, and they missed out on just being free for a little while. It works for some, but not everyone." Sirius told him, shaking his head. "So what are Hermione's plans?"

Harry shrugged. "She doesn't know. She never really thought she'd actually have a future in the Wizarding World, but here she is. She talked about going back to her Muggle school and finishing her last year, spending some time with her parents. Maybe go to university. Maybe find a program in the Wizarding World. She doesn't know and for once…she is okay with that, you know? I'm jealous because that's where I want to be." Harry confided, feeling slightly ashamed. Sirius speech spoke volumes to him because he knew he might be one of those that is simply picking a future because he's forced to.

Sirius seemed surprised. "I figured she would have had her future mapped out by now." He chuckled.

Harry smiled. "I know right? She's scared, but…like I said, she's okay with it. And I was too. But now…" Harry ran a hand through his already untidy hair.

Sirius nodded. "McGonagall put the fear of Merlin in you, I'm sure. Yes, I can see how tempting it must be to for you to just take the year off and follow her around-exactly like your father! He applied for the medical programs Lily did-didn't get in of course. But he tried!" Sirius laughed at the memory. "Your father was-still is-a fool for that woman. He'd follow her to the end of the Earth." Obvious emotion laced his words as he spoke fondly of two of his best friends.

Harry grinned. "I can only imagine the faces of…well, everyone really if I went to Muggle school in the fall. Took a year off." Harry spoke the words as a joke, but even as he said them, he knew that was exactly what he wanted to do. Already swimming in his head were images of he and Hermione going to public school together, him playing on the rugby team while Hermione excelled in some gifted program. Parties, dances, bonfires…it was all so alluring. He would make it great for Hermione. It would be a whole new experience for her, he knew. His days of being bullied were long gone, and hers would be too. He would make sure of that.

Sirius's words brought him back to the present. "That would be a major setback in your plan, Harry. These programs don't sit around and wait for you to be ready." He laughed, but almost as if he could see the wheels turning in Harry's head, a warning laced his words.

Harry's face fell slightly because he knew Sirius was right.

"But with that being said…I don't want you to go into anything just because you are being pushed in that direction. Do what's right for you-everything else will fall into place." Sirius advised, eyebrows raised.

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Harry dropped into the seat next to Hermione in the Common Room after planting a very sloppy kiss on her cheek. "Hellllooooo, Beautiful." He greeted with a grin.

Hermione laughed and wiped the kiss from her cheek. "Hello, Mr. Potter. I take it you had a nice chat with your godfather?" She asked, noting his mood.

"Yep. And I've got it all figured out. A plan for both of us." His eyes gleamed with excitement.

A surprised look crossed her features. "Well let's hear it then. What are we planning?" Hermione took the bait, closing her book but not before marking her page.

Harry scooted his chair closer so he was inches from her and took her hands in his. "You don't have plans after school. I don't have plans. You said something about going back to your Muggle school, right?" Harry asked slowly.

Hermione laughed. "Yes, I suppose I mentioned it once. Why? What's this about, Harry?"

"We go back together." Harry said triumphantly. "Think about it-a second chance at a last year of school. We're together now. There isn't any rivalry business. Wouldn't it be brilliant!? I could play rugby and take you out on regular dates and we can just be like a couple of normal Muggles!"

Hermione's eyes were wide with shock. "Harry…that is an absolute horrible idea! Please tell me you are joking." She replied bluntly. "What are you trying to pull, exactly?" She inquired, concerned.

Harry was taken aback by her negative reaction. "What? I thought that's what you wanted? I want us to be together. I don't want to start some program that I might end up hating while you go living without me or doing whatever you are going to be doing." Harry stated, his temper starting to simmer. "Do you want us to be apart?"

Hermione grabbed Harry's hand and led him upstairs to his empty dormitory. Once the door was closed, she turned to face him. Her voice was soft, "Harry, what is this really about? Since when did you want to be a Muggle and go to back to school?"

Harry's stubbornness took over. "I just thought it would be a nice idea, is all. Hell, we're only seventeen. Well, you're eighteen and I'll be eighteen soon but it's whatever. Why do we have to pick what we want to be right now anyway? If you don't want to go back to school then…I dunno, let's travel Europe or something."

Hermione's expression turned sympathetic. "Harry, I'm not going back to my Muggle school. I'm going to be nineteen in September. It's time to grow up and start figuring life out. That goes for you too. I know what you are trying to do. School is a safe zone for you-"

Harry cut her off. "Don't even try pulling that, Hermione. I don't need to hide behind a school." Harry insisted. "I'm sorry for not wanting to part ways right out of school." Harry apologized sarcastically.

Hermione's gentle demeanor shifted. "Are you suggesting that I don't care, Potter?" She asked angrily. "I don't know what you've got in your head, but you are talking mad. Do you even hear yourself?" She half-shouted, her hands flying to her hips.

Harry's temper was getting the better of him, but he tried to calm down. "I don't see you having plans. Why can't I take a year off too?" He shot back at her.

Hermione threw her hands up in the air. "Merlin, Harry, what is wrong with you? I'm not your boss. I never said you couldn't take a year off. I'm simply saying that it is a stupid decision. Look at what everyone has done for you. Don't you understand how incredibly lucky you are? So many people are standing behind you! I'm jealous! You have so many people pushing you to reach your full potential, and are you really going to waste their time just because you aren't ready to grow up? Stop being a bleeding pansy and move on to the next part of your life!" Hermione's words hung in the air as she stood almost nose to nose with Harry.

Harry felt his anger slowly dissipate, and finally, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He knew Hermione was right.

"It's just…I don't know if I'm making the right decision. What if I make the wrong one and waste all this time? I feel…unprepared." Harry admitted, dropping onto his bed.

Hermione walked over and sat beside him and turned her body so she was facing him. She took his hand in his. "Then make the mistake. Harry, I've listened to you talk these last few days. You're excited about this. Whether you want to admit it or not, you're excited. And frightened. And you have no idea what to expect. I can see all this in your eyes and body language. But that's okay. It would be abnormal not to feel like this. I know exactly how you feel. When I came to Hogwarts…it was one of the biggest decisions of my life. I left everything I ever knew behind and came here to the unknown…and Harry, despite everything that has happened, even if this," she gestured the space between the two of them, "Had never happened…it would have been worth it.

"This is going to be scary and new and exciting all at the same time, but Harry, I know you aren't going to regret it." Hermione spoke softly, squeezing his hand. "Please believe me. Don't try to live in the past. This chapter of your life is closing…don't be so afraid to turn the page that you close the book." She counseled with a small smile.

As her words sunk in, Harry sighed. "You're right. It was a stupid idea. I dunno, I guess I'm just not ready to give all this up." Harry looked longingly around the circular dormitory that has been his home for the last seven years.

Hermione moved closer and leaned her head on his shoulder as her arm stretched across his chest in a half-hug. "I know. I haven't even been here a year and I know how much I'm going to miss this place. I can't imagine how difficult it is for everyone else." She confessed.

Harry wrapped his arm around her and planted a kiss on her forehead. "Thank for talking some sense into me. And I'm sorry. I guess I just don't want to think about the future too much and miss out on what's going on right now." He squeezed her shoulders tight against him.

Hermione smiled. "No problem. Someone has to keep you level-headed. I believe it is all part of the girlfriend description." She replied nonchalantly.

Harry chuckled. "Is it also in the girlfriend description to call me a `bleeding pansy'?" Harry asked with a grin, pulling her lips up to meet his.

Hermione smirked as she pulled away. "Something like that."

Harry pressed his lips against her more firmly to muffle her words as he wrapped his arms more securely around her before he pulled her back towards his pillow. "I can't help but notice," He said between kisses, "That you've trapped me in an empty, unsupervised dormitory."

Hermione managed to pull her lips away from his, which only encouraged Harry to move his kisses to her jaw line then slowly down to her neck.

Hermione forgot her response and instead tangled her hands in his tousled midnight hair. She softly sighed his name as her eyes drifted closed and unfamiliar feelings stirred somewhere in her lower abdomen.

Wet, hot kisses slowly ran back up her neck until Harry's lips were on hers again and she was caught in a fiery kiss. A satisfying moan escaped them both as their kiss heated up even more. The physical attributes of their relationship were still all new, but they were quick learners and enjoyed exploring this foreign frontier.

Hermione stretched out relaxingly under Harry's body, causing Harry to reach out and grab the back of her upper thigh and bring her knee up to his waist. He ran his hand down the length of her calf then back up again to the hem of her skirt, which had managed to rise several inches higher than normal.

He rolled them so they were on their side, still locked into a kiss. His hand leisurely continued up the curve of her hip, her side until he paused at the side of her breast. Harry's hand-unhurried and ready to stop at any hint given by Hermione-gently moved to cup her breast in his hand. Hermione didn't bat his hand away, so he gave this new territory an experimental light caress. He pulled is mouth away from hers to gauge her reaction. Without removing his hand and his eyes locked on her, he squeezed again. "Is this okay?" He whispered.

Hermione's cheek were blushing, and without saying a word, she gave a quick nod before capturing his lips with hers again-wanting to take the attention off her. She felt slightly dirty for liking Harry's hand fiddling around on her breast.

Happy with Hermione's reaction, Harry boldly explored her breasts over her shirt. He could barely feel her hardened nipples through the cloth of her shirt and bra. Reluctantly, Harry moved his hands to safer areas and slowly eased out of their kiss. He was getting way too aroused for their activity at the moment. Hermione seemed to have similar feelings as she pulled away enough to lay contently on his arm and snuggle into his chest.

Their eyes met, and both of their faces blushed slightly. Without saying a word, Harry pulled her closer and they both sighed peacefully.

Harry stretched his hand a few inches and squeezed her breast lightly because…well, now he was allowed to.

Hermione playfully batted hit hand away. "Stop it!" She giggled, burying her face in his chest, causing Harry to chuckle.

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We got the afternoon
You got this room for two
One thing I've left to do
Discover me
Discovering you

Your body Is a wonderland
Your body is a wonder (I'll use my hands)

Your body is a wonderland

"Your Body Is A Wonderland" JOHN MAYER

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Harry didn't know what could possibly be worse than this. He was sure McGonagall hated him. He waited as Snape's last class of the day filed out of the Dungeons, making the great escape for the day-sheer relief etched on most faces. Finally, when the last of them were gone and the heavy door slammed shut, Harry knocked.

No response.

Harry knocked again, harder. The door eased open only inches, and Harry had to turn sideways to slide in through the opening because the door wouldn't open further despite his pushing.

"What do you want, Potter?" Snape asked from behind his desk.

"Er, I was wondering if I could talk to you about something?" Harry asked, already knowing the answer.

"No."

Harry sighed. "Please, sir?" He pressed. "It is an assignment for Professor McGonagall." Harry hastily explained.

Snape stood and headed for the door. "Then I suggest you take it up with her. I'm going to dinner."

Harry jogged to keep up with Snape brisk walk. "Sir, please, can I talk to you for just a few minutes?"

"You have two minutes." The Potions Master replied.

Harry nodded gratefully and came to a stop, only to be surprised that Snape never broke his stride. Was this asshole for real? Biting back his anger, Harry once again jogged to catch up. "Professor, I am pursuing a career in becoming either a Healer or-or an Auror. The problem is, I need letters of recommendation to get into the programs, or really, to even be given an interview to try to get into the programs. Potions is a big part of both career options, so I was wondering if you could take a few minutes out and just write a letter of recommendation for me to owl to the directors?" Even before Harry was halfway through, he knew how pointless his speech was.

"No. Now go away, Potter." Snape said in response in a bored tone.

"But Professor, please. I won't even get a chance if-"

Snape interrupted him with a wave of his hand. "Of course I will help you receive special treatment because you were too lazy and arrogant to apply when you were supposed to-right after I put on a tutu and dance like a fairy."

His sarcasm did not go unnoticed by Harry. They had reached the Great Hall by now, and Harry stopped at the doors as Snape continued to stride forward, his black robes billowing purposely behind him.

Defeated, Harry stomped his way angrily to join his friends at the Gryffindor table. The murderous look on his face told them the brief meeting had gone exactly how Harry had envisioned.

Hermione squeezed his hand. "Maybe try again tomorrow after class?" She suggested unhelpfully.

Ron shook his head. "It's no use. He may as well be asking Snape to hand over all of Slytherin's House points to Gryffindor, or let Harry go away with him on holiday. It isn't going to happen; sorry mate." His friend gave him an apologetic grimace.

"Do you want me to try to talk to him?" Hermione offered with raised eyebrow.

"No. I don't need you to fight my battles, Hermione." Harry snapped furiously, causing her to shrink away from him, which made him immediately feel guilty. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped at you. But no, I'll handle it." He forced a reluctant grin, and she returned it with a small one of her own.

Despite his cool exterior, Harry was still fuming. He picked moodily at his food, concentrating all of his anger at the slimy git at the head table. Finally, he tossed his fork down and pushed away his food. He looked up at Ron and Draco, and on a whim, asked suddenly, "How about a game of Quidditch?" Harry knew he and Hermione had plans to study later, but right now, he needed to clear his head before he snapped at her again.

Ron and Draco shrugged in unison and quickly finished their plates. Harry glanced over in Hermione's direction, and found that she was gazing steadily at the food on her plate. As if she could feel his eyes on her, she finally looked up, her face unreadable-as if he wasn't blowing her off.

Before she could make his feel guilty, Harry got up and headed to get his Quidditch gear.

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Hermione wanted to be angry, but couldn't bring herself to be. However, she did feel something-irritation perhaps. She did not appreciate Harry blowing her off, but she would not let him see how much it bothered her. She could study on her own just fine. She had already gone over her notes for Charms and Transfiguration. She unceremoniously glanced around the Library and saw Neville sitting alone at a table, an intense expression on his face as he read over his own notes. Hermione's heart went out to him and she smiled. It took only seconds for her to gather up her things and join Neville at his study table.

"Do you want to study together?" Hermione asked with a smile, and relief noticeably swept over his features.

"That would be brilliant." He replied graciously.

Hermione grinned and sat down with him. "What are you looking over now?"

"Charms." He said, pulling a face.

Hermione plucked her own Charms notes from her book bag and started to quiz her friend in hushed tones.

It was two subjects later, as Neville quizzed Hermione in Herbology, that Hermione saw him sweep into the Library, his black robes billowing behind him. Professor Snape was scanning the shelves while anger began to boil inside of Hermione. Yes, she was irritated with her boyfriend, but she still felt bad for the way the Potions Master treated him, and how unhelpful the professor was being.

"Hermione?!" Neville whispered urgently, trying to regain her attention.

Hermione jumped slightly. "What?" She asked, shaken from her thoughts.

"I said, `I'm venomous. I'm rare. I thrive in freezing climates. I'm found in the secluded corners of Antarctica-my native land. What am I?'" Neville recited again.

Hermione held up a finger to signal to `hold on.' "Can you give me just a second?" She asked before standing and marching over to the Potions Master. She knew she shouldn't interfere, but she couldn't stop herself.

"Hello, Professor." Hermione greeted quietly.

"Miss Granger." Professor Snape acknowledged, not looking up from the book in his hands.

"Er, I was wondering if I could have a word?" She asked awkwardly.

"Hmm?" Still, his eyes swept over the page.

Anger fumed inside of Hermione at his demeanor. "Professor, I was wondering why you refuse to write Harry's letter of recommendation?"

Snap!

Professor Snape's black eyes finally looked up as he snapped his book closed. "I believe that is none of your concern." His lip curled.

Indignant, Hermione put her hands on her hips. "Professor, I really don't think it's fair that-"

"Silence. I am not discussing this with you." He interrupted her before turning away.

Hermione stomped her way in front of him, causing him to stop. "If you would please just listen for a moment-"

"Detention tonight. My office. Eight `o'clock. And ten points from Gryffindor." Professor Snape's voice was velvety soft, a sneer playing on his lips. "I suggest you hold your tongue before I make it fifty." He strode past a furious Hermione, who could barely contain herself.

Hermione stood there for a minute, taking in his words. The taste of vehemence on her tongue, she trudged over to her table, defeated.

"What was that!?" Neville, who was terrified of the Potions Master, asked, alarm evident in his voice.

"I have detention." Hermione admitted, slamming her book shut. She looked at her watch. It was 7:45-which meant by the Potions Master's standards, she was already late.

Neville was about to say something, but Hermione cut him off. "Sorry. I'm already late. Um, can you tell Harry if you see him?" Without waiting for an answer, Hermione gathered all her book and began to sprint to the Dungeons.

She knocked on the door, still seething, but got no reply. Hermione knocked harder, then heard footsteps in a distance. Snape made his way towards her from down the corridor.

"Late. Another five points." He said swiftly before pressing his wand to the door and unlocking it.

Hermione was about to retort, but held her tongue.

"To teach you a lesson in humility, you can start by scraping of the gum from under all the tables." He drawled, handing her a small one square inch piece of plastic with dulled edges as a scrapper.

She took the tool wordlessly and got to work.

The word was tedious. The offending gum all but refused to be scraped from the bottoms of the tables. Hermione yelled and screamed and cursed inside her mind at the man sitting behind his desk.

It must have shown on her face, because Hermione felt the probes of something attacking her mind, trying to burrow inside to see what was going on.

But the same professor had taught her too well, and Hermione was able to block the intrusion without expending too much effort. She felt a rush of satisfaction at her accomplishment.

He continued to play with her mind, and tried to attack repeatedly, but Hermione kept her barriers up and was able to defend her sanction. She chanced a peek through her hair so he wouldn't see her looking, saw that his head was bent over an essay, but there was a small smirk on his lips. His concentration was obviously elsewhere.

As Hermione scraped the last piece of gum off the final table, she got up and said nonchalantly, "You aren't getting in."

He looked up. "I see that."

Her anger was still there, but it wasn't controlling her words like before. "Why are you so interested in what is going about in my head?" She asked offhandedly.

Snape rolled his eyes, bored. "Don't flatter yourself. Just testing since our lessons have diminished. Though I am a little curious about why you think you can talk to me that way."

"I'm sorry." Hermione apologized. "I was out of line, sir." In her brooding, Hermione had come to terms with the fact that she had been rude during their exchange earlier.

"Yes, you were. You may go now." He dismissed her, turning his attention back to his grading.

Remembering her thoughts, Hermione slowly approached his desk. "I am sorry for the way I said it, but I'm not sorry for what I said. Professor, I understand somewhat," she put emphasis on that word, "Your decision to not help, but at the same time…don't you think he deserves it? You wouldn't even listen. You don't even have to recommend him-if you could even just state his marks for your classes. They will speak for themselves. You have this grudge against his father…do you know what program he wants to go into?"

No response.

"He wants to be a Healer-just like his mother." Hermione finished softly.

Still no reply.

Hermione sighed and trudged from the Dungeon before he could take away any more points.

000000

Harry was waiting in Common Room, of course.

"What happened?" He asked, though his tone hinted that he could guess.

Hermione smiled sheepishly.

Harry shook his head. "You couldn't help yourself, could you?"

Hermione blushed. "It doesn't matter. It didn't make a difference, and I lost fifteen points from Gryffindor, got a detention, and lost hours of studying time." Hermione sighed.

Harry pulled her into a hug. "While I hate that you went behind my back after I asked you not to…it is kinda cute that you went and got in trouble sticking up for me. It's a bit of a turn on that I'm dating such a badass."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh shut it, you!"

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Harry felt like a failure. He hated going to Professor McGonagall with the news that he did not get all the letters of recommendation that was asked of him-especially when he felt that it wasn't his fault.

But he had a plan. Maybe the Headmaster could write one for him for Potions. He didn't know if that would be allowed or not, but maybe if he explained the circumstances…it was worth a shot. Or maybe the Headmaster could make Snape write one-not likely.

"Well, Potter?" The Transfiguration professor asked as he sat down in the chair facing her.

Harry shook his head. "I'm sorry, Professor. I tried-I really did. And I got nearly all of them." He produced eleven scrolls of parchment. "Professor, you know Professor Snape hates me. So I don't have the two from him. I asked, but…he said it is my fault that I waited so long and that I don't deserve special treatment." Harry confessed, and part of him almost agreed with the bastard. "And…maybe he's right." Harry admitted grudgingly.

Professor McGongall surveyed him behind her square spectacles. "Is that so?" She reached into a drawer and pulled out two scrolls. "Severus gave me these-while they are not exactly letters of recommendation, they are records of your marks in his class, test results and such. It should suffice, paired with your other letters from the other professors." She replied.

Harry was shocked. What? He had come through? "Really?!" He asked, still taken aback.

"Yes, Potter, `really.'" She said with a roll of her hawk eyes.

Harry made a mental note to thank Hermione. He knew she was the only reason why he got even those. "So now what is the next step?" Harry asked, wanting to get this over with and getting to thanking Hermione properly in all the ways he could think come up with-he felt a blush creep over his cheeks and tried to will his thoughts elsewhere for the time being.

She pulled out two thick scrolls. "Applications for the two programs you are interested in. Get this filled out as soon as you can, as well as writing a letter to each director yourself begging for an interview. You will owl these out first thing-tomorrow, I'm hoping." She said with a beady expression, "And then, we wait." She said with a sigh.

Harry's heart sank at the thought of writing even more tonight, especially when he had other plans in mind. "Okay, professor. I'll have them for first thing tomorrow." Harry grudgingly promised.

Once he was dismissed, Harry slowly made his way down the corridor. He didn't want to fill out stupid applications tonight or write letters or anything. He wanted to just hang out with Hermione. Tell her how much she meant to him and how lost he would be without her. Though to be honest, he knew she would be busy with N.E.W.T.S. prepping anyway. She had been in a nonstop frenzy these last few weeks and really needed a break. As that thought settled into his mind, other bits and pieces of conversation floated around his brain, slowly giving him an idea-perhaps the only thing that would tear her away from studying.

00000000000

A quick trip to the Library and his dormitory for his Firebolt later, Harry stood in the center of Hermione's dormitory, a table set up laden with the very books he had paged through in his detention.

She had been trying to get to bed early this last week, getting well-rested for the upcoming week. He knew she would be coming up here anytime. He had already told her good night and begged off to go to sleep himself.

Sure enough, the door opened and Hermione came in. When she saw that someone was in her room, she jumped. "Harry!" She shrieked, her hand over her heart. "You scared me half to death! What are you doing in here?" She asked, confused.

Harry smiled and gestured to the table. "You said that I was lucky to have people push me about my future. You said you were…ah, yes, jealous because of it." Harry walked towards her and cupped her cheek in his palm. "I just want you to know that you have people in your corner too." He pressed his lips to hers briefly. "So I want you to sit at that table and pick a career." He said sternly, pointing towards the mountain of books.

Hermione laughed. "You didn't have to do this."

Harry shrugged. "You always say that you don't know if you have a future in the Wizarding World. Well, you have the option to. So explore it." He took her book bag from her and led her over to her seat.

"And what are you going to do?" She asked quizzically with a raised eyebrow.

Harry produced his applications. "I have applications to fill out. Trust me, this is not how I was hoping we would be spending our Friday night." He said with a huge sigh.

Hermione giggled, "Oh yeah? And what else did you have in mind?"

Harry wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Well…maybe if we hurry, we'll still have some time that I can show you." He said slyly.

"You've piqued my interest, so maybe I will rush a bit." She winked, causing Harry's mouth to go dry and desire course through him.

"Or maybe we do this after…" He suggested, reaching for her.

Hermione laughed and danced just out of his reach. "Nope. You got me excited to do this now. You'll just have to wait!" She exclaimed, pulling out her chair.

"Yeah, you got me excited too." Harry grumbled under his breath before focusing on his own applications.

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This was a covert operation. He had to be in and out. He did a mental checklist yet again, just to make sure he did not forget anything. He involuntarily shivered at the thought of the consequences that would surely be waiting for him if he failed.

Refocusing on the task at hand, Jonathan took a deep breath before pressing the tip of his wand to the solid wall in front of him and muttering, "Liquefiat." The hard wall shimmered in his wand light and began to ripple before him. He stepped through easily, shivering at the cold sensation of walking through the liquid wall.

He was on the Fourth Floor. He turned around and caught his reflection in the still-rippling mirror he had just walked through. "Solidatur." The shimmering ceased at once and the mirror instantly harden to glass on stone once again.

The route out of Hogwarts that led into a dark, grate-sealed tunnel just outside of Hogsmeade had come in handy these last few weeks. The rat-Wormtail-had told him of the passage. It had been blocked, but he had been able to clear it with some effort.

With stealth and quickness, Jonathan tightened the bag slung over his shoulder and made his way to Gryffindor Tower.

His mission was difficultly simple. It should go without any problems. He had all the tools he needed in the bag. Still, Jonathan felt antsy. He had done some pretty rotten things in his life, but ever since he had been brought in front of Voldemort, he had changed. The lines blurred between his own personal boundaries and what was expected of him. He had talked the big talk, but now when it came to putting Voldemort's commands into action…he'd be a liar if he said his stomach didn't turn a little bit.

But that didn't matter. He'd joined up. He was in it for life, or it would cost him his life. Hand-chosen-drafted-by the Dark Lord himself. There was no `no' option. So here he was, doing the Dark Lord's bidding and trying his best not to fuck it up. Despite the nauseating assignment, despite his squeamish doubts, he did feel a sort of adrenaline-Voldemort would turn him into a man more than anyone else could.

Qualms or no, he had a job to do that his was on the line for. No turning back. He felt terrified. Sick. Clammy. Under all his negative feelings, however, there was excitement. Voldemort would be rising again very soon. Luckily for Jonathan, that meant he would have full control of his body once again.

He trembled. Being possessed by that sort of evil was no doubt the scariest thing he had ever experienced, and he was more than willing to do anything to make it stop. Voldemort had been in the limbo state that he was in for so long, he had to slowly adapt to a body before getting his own. Also, preparations were needed and it was easier for Voldemort to travel if he had a host.

While Jonathan was willing to act as that host, he did not like it. The feeling was indescribable. With a new vigor to never having to feel like that again, the Slytherin quickened his pace.

Entrance was granted with the password he had managed to obtain to the Gryffindor Common Room by a vey sleepy portrait of the Fat Lady. In her sleepy state, she hadn't even bothered to her eyes to see that she had given access to someone other than a Gryffindor.

He would go after the girl first. The girls' staircase was bewitched to turn into a stone slide when a boy stepped on it, he knew. It was the same in his own House. But the Slytherins were known for their cunning. Slytherin boys have visited the girls in their dorms many times. Using a Floating Charm on himself, he rose several inches from the stone floor, dug his fingers in the grooves in the bricked wall, and slowly ascended the staircase using the wall as a guide and careful not to touch any part of the staircase or railing. It was a slow process, especially when he knew she would be on the top floor alone.

However, he finally managed to get to the top. Using the mental map given to him by Wormtail, he knew she was the last dormitory at the end of the corridor. He eased the door open and slowly crept into the circular room.

Hermione was laying in her bed, the moonlight the only light in the room. She slept all the way to the left on her bed, the blankets pulled off her. She wore a pair of shorts and a baggie white t-shirt that had ridden up to reveal half of her stomach. He reached into his bag and pulled out a bright, indigo-colored potion encased in a small round vial. He let his knees sink into the bed beside her, stirring her slightly but not enough to wake. He pressed his finger against her bottom lip, slowly opening her mouth. He tipped the contents of the vial into her mouth, then tossed it back his bag. He knew he needed to wait for the potion to work-exactly two minutes, he believed-but his greedy eyes raked over her revealed skin and he couldn't help but take a peek. His hand gently eased her shirt further up to reveal more flesh and a white bra as his other hand fished in his bag for the small dagger in there. He placed the tip of his blade to the inside warmth of her arm. Before he could apply enough pressure to break the skin, a loud shout from somewhere behind startled him and he felt a heavy weight crash into him, sending him forward. Another loud scream met his ears.

Harry Potter was pulling him over a red and cream colored sea and onto the stone floor. Harry's fist made contact with his stomach, effectively knocking the wind out of him for a second time. Harry went to strike again but Jonathan intercepted the blow and wrapped his arms around the middle of Harry's back and tried to hold him. For a split second, he caught sight of Hermione, screaming and withering in pain while covered in blood. Her white shirt had become drenched in red. He realized his dagger had pierced her when Harry had tackled him, shoving him further into Hermione. However, the wound was not on her forearm. There was too much blood for that.

Jonathan and Harry's fight raged on as Hermione's screams in the background grew shallower before becoming silent. Both boys were bloody, and Jonathan found it difficult to grip onto Harry's naked torso now slick with blood and sweat. He managed to knee the Gryffindor in the gut, causing him to crumple to his hands and knees for a second-long enough for him to find the glint of silver of his dagger and his bag before being dragged back to the ground. Harry punched him in his nose and he heard the crunch of his own nose breaking. The pain was momentarily blinding, but he was able to bring the dagger down and slice a long gash from Harry's shoulder to the inside of his elbow. Blood poured from the wound. Lightening fast, he had out a fresh vial that captured the blood spilling from the gash while Harry was coming to grips with the situation. Harry made to stand but Jonathan was able to delay him by delivering a feeble kick to the chest.

Out of time, ran to Hermione's still form and ripped the blood-soaked shirt from her body and ran from the room, yelling behind him, "I'd worry less about me and more about her if I were you!" A glance over his shoulder told him his words did exactly as their intent: Harry, now alert and ready for round two more than he probably was himself, used all of his energy to rush to Hermione's side instead of following him out the door and down the staircase-which turned into a stone slide and let out a blaring, high-pitched wailing noise. He knew the sound would probably wake up the entire Gryffindor House or most of them anyway. Before anyone could stop him, he was out the Portrait Hole and heading for the Fourth Floor. He had to get out of here before an alarm was raised, and not let the punishment that was sure to be waiting on him now slow him down from reaching his destination.

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For crying out loud I'm running from a comedown
God forbid I know I've been a letdown
Reaching for the sky while laying in a gutter
Kicking and screaming I am singing bloody murder

I'm alive when I'm vulnerable
I'm out of control, I'm losing my soul
I'm alive when I'm vulnerable
I'm out of control, I'm losing my soul

I can't be your angel when I'm living like a devil
Can't be your lover when I'm living like a rebel
Don't want your pity and I don't want your help
Don't try and save me go take care of yourself
Go take care of yourself
you better take care of yourself

"Alive (N' Out Of Control)" PAPA ROACH

DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW SO I CAN COME HOME TO A NICE PILE OF THEM!!!!!!!!!

*~Archie~*

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