Unofficial Portkey Archive

Portkey Staff (gal-texter) Note May 2009: We've re-uploaded this as readers have stumbled on this fic as recent as March 2009. Unfortunately, Chocchip seems to have abandoned this story and the fandom.

Choccip's original A/N:

Wow, I managed it!!!! Finally, I've finished writing the second chapter! Of nine. God kill me.

I know that this is quite a bit longer than the first, and that wasn't intended, and so I hope that it turns out to be a worthwhile read.

I remember someone asking how to pronounce Gaia, so here it is `guy-ah'. That's about it. Though there'll be a few things in the next lot of chapters that you might wanna know how to pronounce too!

I apologise for the wait, but as you can probably see from the length, and my stubbornness not to write small chapters, it was always going to take a while. With any luck, the next chapter will be out quicker, though not in time for you all to be hooked on reading `The Order of the Phoenix' when it comes out. I might have to take a week off for that myself.

Oh and it is, and always shall be a Harry/Hermione fic. Just thought I might clear that up.

Thanks Nappa- the Yoda, who came along at the right time, and has been giving me the kick up the **** I needed to continue writing.

Please review if you can still stare at a computer screen when you finish the fic. *_*

Harry Potter and the Power of Gaia

For the most part the train journey to Hogwarts was as uneventful as any other year. Malfoy had yet to grace their compartment with his presence, an annual tradition now.

Perhaps it was because, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the twins, were being so fiercely protective of him. Practically surrounding him at the station, like a cocoon. Harry thought that so far, he'd only seen the heads of the students, and hadn't said a word to any of them.

But he had been able to hear what some of them were saying, that was, unfortunately, how he came to find out, that it was well known in the wizarding world, thanks to an article in the 'Daily Prophet', that Uncle Vernon was being put on trial. Though at the moment, they could only guess the reason, and most couldn't quite guess the awful nature of the truth, instead the newspaper article had led to many rumours. Including one, that Harry really wish he hadn't heard, that he had gotten angry, had done something terrible, and as usual, because of who Harry was, the ministry was going to cover it up, by putting his Uncle on trial. Sometimes, being 'the boy who lived' was more of a curse than any other.

He had found out, from listening to the other students, that Vernon's trial was set for the end of November. It seemed that the Wizard's High Court, were in no hurry to release his Uncle from a high security prison, or to make him human again for that matter.

It was the Slytherin's he could hear discussing these rumours, but the rest of the student population seemed genuinely worried about him. There had been a constant stream of student's to the compartment door, asking to see him, only to be blocked by the twin's. They wouldn't even allow their close friend Lee Jordan, in, even when his pet spider had run inside. It was only when Harry himself stepped in, scooped up the spider, and told them to let him in, that he was allowed. Lee had done so, a big smile on his face, he'd blinked for a minute when he saw Harry, but stayed a while, laughing and joking with the twin's. Then they'd made some 'hushed' comments to each other, the twin's basically asking that Lee sees to it, that nobody else comes knocking on the compartment door. He agreed, gave Harry a cheery wave, and then left.

There was another reason that Malfoy hadn't turned up yet. And that was sitting right next to Harry.

Alastor Moody.

More importantly, the 'real' Alastor Moody.

Apparently, in his position as one of the greatest Auror's of wizard history, he had been deemed worthy enough to guard the Staff of Gaia, and presumably keep an eye, and a magical eye on Harry himself. Moody had also confirmed, that he was to take the position of Defence of the Dark Arts teacher this year. Which had surprised Harry greatly, considering, Moody had spent the greater part of a year locked in his own trunk, last time he'd agreed. And then Moody had told them, that he would only be a Co-teacher that year, and would say no more on the subject, not breathing a word about who the other teacher was. Harry could only hope it wouldn't be Snape.

At one point, Moody had to go to the bathroom, but before he left, he turned to the case holding the Staff, which was propped in one corner of the compartment, no one could see around him. He muttered something, and when he turned back, and left, those in the compartment were amazed, to see the case had disappeared. While the others immediately began to discuss where it might be, Hermione suggesting some form of object-based apparation; Harry closed his eyes and reached out with his feelings. A residual effect of his experience with the staff, meant that he could now 'feel' it's presence, like the ghost feeling of a missing limb, which was the closest in words, Harry could come to describe the strangely growing connection. So Harry knew, as the others did not, that the staff was still there. He could feel a low humming around his stomach. It wasn't like nerves, nor like the feelings he got in proximity to Cho, or these day's Hermione. More like the gentle hum you feel when your next a source of electricity that's quite powerful, like overhead pylons.

He became faintly aware, as he reached out his hand, that the chatter in the compartment had come to a halt, the feelings in his stomach had intensified, ever so slightly. He opened his eyes, and looked before his out stretched hand. There, in the corner, where the staff had been, there was a narrow, but long shaft of light, almost vertical to the floor, slowly, the light spread, wrapping itself around unseen corners, until the light was being emitted from a shape, the same size as the case holding the staff. You could still see through the middle, to the other side, as though there was still nothing there.

Then the sound of a familiar, low drawl, distracted Harry, the feelings in his stomach lurched, not that he could blame them. The light disappeared.

The compartment door slid open, and Draco Malfoy, flanked by his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, entered. As usual, there was a look of smug superiority on his face. Something that just gave you the urge to hit him, or make him cry.

"So Potty, I hear you had to be rescued again. And from Muggles at that!"

"Push off Draco." Ron muttered, automatically moving out of his seat, to stand in front of Harry, Hermione joined him. The twins and Ginny just glared.

"What's this Potter? You need the backward pauper family and a filthy Mudblood to protect you?"

Ron roared in anger, and would have landed a very good punch on Malfoy's delicate looking nose, if Hermione hadn't have pulled his arm back. Then Hermione said, clearly with more confidence than she felt.

"Harry doesn't need protecting, and he didn't have to be rescued from any Muggles."

Harry would have appreciated the lie more, if it hadn't so obviously been a lie.

Draco peered around both of them, and looked Harry up and down, a nasty smile played at his lips.

"Really? And I suppose the bruises on his face, and the cuts on his arms, come from De-Gnoming the garden?"

He smirked, and made a quick exit, the Goons a bit slower, smirked afterwards, and then realising their leader had gone, made their version of a quick exit. Which involved both of them getting momentarily stuck in the doorway, as they tried to fit through at the same time.

Harry, meanwhile, had put a hand up to his face, and touched it lightly. It still ached. He was a little surprised. Everyone was looking at him, as if they were seeing him, really seeing the way he looked for the first time. Hermione moved towards him, reached up and took his hand with her own. Aware of people looking at him, shame immediately filled him. And he looked at his feet, unable to look anyone in the eye. Why hadn't he fought back? Why did he now feel, that not only had he let himself down, but other people as well?

And then the answer came to him. He was scared, not so much of Uncle Vernon, and Dudley, but of losing the one thing that had ever happened, that made him feel good about himself. Finding out that he was a wizard.

Uncle Vernon had been right to suspect, that Harry wouldn't dare practice magic in the holidays again. Because Harry wouldn't risk the one thing, that had brought him, not only a whole new life, away from the Dursley's, but friendship, parental figures in people like his Godfather, and a family, even if the Weasley's weren't related to him by blood.

Hermione was still holding his hand when he dared to look up.

She smiled at him.

"Don't listen to him Harry. Malfoy's just a stuck up pureblood."

"Hey!" Ron muttered a moment later. He'd forgotten briefly that he too came from a pureblood family, though a much nicer one.

"Sorry Ron." Hermione turned to Harry again.

"Harry, don't listen to him, if Malfoy had been through even half of what you have, he'd still be crying like a baby."

In a voice so low that only Hermione could hear it, Harry said,

"Sometimes I feel like crying."

Hermione stopped smiling, and circling her arms around him, pulled him into a deep hug.

Moody returned a short while later, after everyone had settled back down again, to a game of exploding snap, and said, much to Harry's embarrassment,

"No more light shows please Mr Potter, we're having a hard enough time keeping the Staff a secret as it is."

~o0o~

"Well, is everything prepared?"

"Yes my Lord, all is in motion."

"It has arrived?"

"Shortly, my Lord."

"And the boy?"

"He too, my Lord."

"Hmm. It is fortunate that his Uncle did not succeed in killing him. That pleasure now falls to me."

~o0o~

It was a little unfortunate that the bathroom was at the opposite end of the carriage. Going there to get changed, meant passing another seven compartments, four to each side of a carriage, and passing more than a few students. Some of whom would smile nervously, or stare at a space somewhere over Harry's head, and then say something stupid like,

"Hey Harry, how you bin?" (A/N That's supposed to be the accent there, I can spell. Except for Quidditch apparently.)

And now, what was once the inevitable eye flick to the scar on his forehead, was a flick from that faraway spot, to look at the whole of Harry's face.

And learning from the earlier encounter with Draco, Harry made sure that he kept the sleeves of his robes, rolled down, despite the heat of the train.

On reflection, it probably hadn't been a good idea to wear a T-shirt in the first place. He remembered getting some funny looks from the muggles back at London Station. Harry had become used to having assorted bruises now. And had to remember that just because it didn't phase him anymore, didn't mean that it wouldn't phase other people.

He was also aware that he would have to get used to people talking about him even more than normal. His appearance, and the fact that his Uncle was to be put on trial, would assure his place as the main topic of idle gossip, for long after the first years interest normally died out.

Having made his way back to his own compartment, along with Ron, a familiar whistle sounded, indicating that they were only five minutes from Hogwarts.

*Great* thought Harry. The past few weeks with the Weasleys, he'd been able to all but forget what had happened to him at the Dursley's. Though they had shown their concern for him, they had known when to back off, to a point were they looked afraid to actually ask him how he was. He'd been able to cope around them, but the Weasley's were like a family. Now he would be thrown back into a lions den, the school, were the truth would get mixed with the rumours, were people would be whispering behind his back, or making snide comments. Sometimes, Harry could really wish that the other Gryffindor students were the only ones there. The rest of the student population, were either his best friend one moment, or his chief prosecutors the next. The whole of Hogwarts would be staring at him.

Upon entering the compartment, Harry's nerves were immediately soothed, Hermione smiled at him. He watched, after sitting next to her, as Fred and George began plotting their escapades for their final year, it sounded good, or bad, depending on whether you would be on the receiving end of their pranks. And then Harry and the others laughed, as they then proceeded to pretend to get teared up about it being their last trip to Hogwarts. One thing Harry was sure of, he was definitely going to keep the Staff of Gaia out of their reach.

But it was, despite all of his concerns, that Harry walked with a spring in his step as he got onto the platform at Hogwart's. It felt good to be back, there was a magic in the air, despite the rapidly darkening weather. Harry and those from his compartment, were at the back of the large group of students, that were moving towards the horseless carriages, when he heard,

"Firs' yers o'er ere! Firs yers this way!"

Harry caught sight of a familiar mass of long, dark brown hair, and a massive form casting shadow over some tiny looking first years.

Hagrid, keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts, a half-giant, and one of Harry's closest friends, turned to motion more first year students his way. Harry managed to catch his eye and waved. He wasn't expecting Hagrid to start ploughing his way through the throng of students, to the back of the crowd, to see him. He waded through the crowd, shot passed Ron and Hermione, and enveloped Harry in a crushing bear hug. Harry's legs were buckling beneath him, and air was being forced out of his lungs. He could feel Hagrid's body shaking lightly, and Harry prayed that he wasn't about to start crying, that would have been a sure fire way to get the other students attention.

Eventually, Hagrid pulled back, and Harry pulled in a long draught of air, re-inflating his crushed lungs, and straightening his rumpled robes.

"I was so worried about yer 'Arry. But I couldn't get to see yer. I'm real sorry."

"That's alright Hagrid."

In truth, Harry was disappointed that Hagrid hadn't visited him, but he assumed that there had been a good reason, a very good reason, other than Hagrid was to big to fit through the Weasley's fireplace.

"You'd better get back to them." Harry said, nodding to the terrified first years, huddled in a small group at the far end of the platform.

"Aye, yer probably right, wouldn't want Peeves getting hold of 'em before the' even started."

"Hello Hagrid." Ron and Hermione chorused, as Hagrid walked towards them.

"Hullo you two. How 'bout we meet for tea later? 'bout 8."

"Great!"

Hagrid made his way back across the platform. Some of the first years looked more afraid of him than Harry had been when he'd faced Voldemort for the first time. It was like they were expecting Hagrid to pick them up, three at a time under each arm, haul them back to a cave somewhere, cover them in salt and tomato sauce, and then eat them.

A familiar buzzing told Harry that the Staff of Gaia was now a few feet ahead of him in the crowd, and sure enough, he could see Moody's hooded head bobbing around amongst the students. That buzzing feeling was now as comforting as finally being back at Hogwarts. He smiled at Ron and Hermione, who looked as happy as he.

The students moved slowly forward, no one in any real hurry, most talking and cheerily greeting old friends.

A sudden wind whipped at his face, and a chill went through him. He looked at the sky, to see how dark it was becoming. He felt the need to be in Hogwarts castle, safe and protected, sitting next to the fire in the common room, in one of the old and worn chairs. He felt the need for warmth that could not be provided out side on the platform. A cold feeling ran up through his spine, making him shiver involuntarily. The safety he had been feeling upon his first step on to the platform was fast disappearing, to be replaced by a cold sense of dread. A flicker of a green, deeper than that of the forest, over the tops of the tree line, caught Harry's attention. He had the strangest feeling that they were being watched. He stopped to look at the trees.

Once again, there was a flicker of green, only now it seemed that it was attached to something very large, and it's movement made the ground tremor slightly.

The chatter on the platform was falling quiet; Harry could feel the eyes of the students behind him lingering on the forest. The earth trembled. And then again. And again. Until it became a beat recognisable as heavy footsteps. The air around them seemed to become as thick and heavy as smog, inhospitable and menacing. The wind was harsh, and seemed to scratch and bruise his exposed skin, getting into the old cuts, and settling a cold chill into them. There was an uneasy shifting from students, caught between their desire to see what was going on and their need to escape to the relative safety of the castle. But within seconds, that decision was made for them. Harry looked back over his shoulder briefly, glimpsing Hagrid's hulking form wading back through the crowd, towards him.

There was a loud screeching noise, like an animal in pain, followed by a distinct cracking. The forest was moving.

An ancient monster of a tree, perhaps thirty feet tall, was falling, falling from it's once tall and proud stance overlooking the Hogwarts platform. The sound of tearing and screaming, as the ancient trees sheer weight pulled and ripped its own roots out of the ground, anchored there for as long as anyone could remember. And this tree was falling towards them.

There were loud screams as the students realised this, and began stampeding to get away, but the tree was falling too fast, Harry could hear the whistling sound it made as it fell through the air towards him. It was so close he could almost smell the pine. And then it was falling still, but it was as though a huge gust of wind had picked it up, and was throwing it away slightly. And instead of falling onto him, as the ancient tree should have done, it fell about ten feet further away. Directly on to the Hogwarts Express, the sound of twisting metal, shattering glass and splintering of wood filled the air.

The students on the platform, seeming to think that the worst was over, moved with curiosity, back towards the mangled remains of the first carriage of the Express. And then the tremors came again.

Only now, there could be heard the sound of something breathing. Something very large. Something that was moving closer to them. It caused the trees in front of it to bend as it brushed passed them. So all that the students could see, was an ancient forest leaning menacingly over them.

Everyone on the platform stood still, except for Hagrid, and the sound of Moody's wooden leg, clonking nervously on the ground. Hagrid had just gotten through the throng of students, and was making his way to Harry's side, when it fell deathly still, there was no sound, save for the wind whistling softly past their ears. The forest had become still, quiet, but too quiet. There was no sound coming from it at all, as if there was nothing alive in there anymore.

There was a sudden flurry of movement from within the trees, so quick, Harry barely had time to register that it was moving towards the platform and the students. And out from the trees, a huge, dark green dragon, moved onto the platform, almost crushing several terrified students beneath it's massive feet.

Six trolls burst out from the cover of the forest, to the very end of the platform, near Harry, and just before the crushed Express. Screams were being emitted from various students, as they realised that they were being penned into one direction, they could only move towards Hogwarts. But panic gripped them all, and they began moving almost at once, in every direction.

Harry could feel hands on him, tugging at him desperately as the trolls began to move towards him. But he could not move. He was rooted to the ground, aware of very little, except for the growing feeling of energy in his solar plexus. The energy was becoming stronger, and began to creep out from his stomach to every part of him, flooding his senses like pins and needles all over. Then the dragon reared, and a stream of fire was emitted from it's mouth like a warning. The trolls, though immensely stupid, were wielding their clubs with considerable force, smashing at the trees of the forest, and the other carriages of the Hogwarts Express with complete malice. The troll in front, clearly their leader, tugged at a large piece of parchment, which was tucked into his trousers, and opened it up, still smashing at a window on the train. He looked at whatever was on it, propped his club up against the side of the train, scratched his head, and grunted, and looked out across the panicking students, it's eyes narrowed when he looked at Harry, squinting, from it's bad eyesight, grabbed it's club, and jabbed it towards Harry, grunting as he did so. The other trolls looked up, at the parchment, then at Harry, and then back again. The lead troll suddenly looked very determined, threw down its parchment, on which was a crude drawing, of a cartoonish face with messy dark hair, and a lightening bolt scar. Apparently, the troll now knew who Harry was, and was coming for him.

"Harry, move."

Someone was trying to pull him again. But the roots that kept him weighed to the earth, seemed to have more strength than those of the ancient tree that had been felled earlier.

The buzzing energy in his solar plexus, became a roar, mixing with the loud sounds all around, deafening him, and everything became quiet, Harry no longer heard what was happening before him, and he knew. Harry knew what he had to do.

He held out his hand, and looked to the point in which he could find what he needed.

The Staff of Gaia flew out of its magical case, as though it wasn't even there. A startled Moody, looked back at him.

The Staff, a few feet away, began to emit its familiar blue sparks, and then,

CRACK!

Harry held the Staff in his hand, brilliant white light being emitted from it. There was screaming, he could hear screaming, but the roar of wind surrounding him, blocked it out. Knowledge began to pool in his veins once again, and something deeper than an aching desire for a person or revenge, overtook him.

And it was with nothing more than this strange knowledge and an instinct deeper than he'd ever known, that Harry charged at six mountain trolls, and a large green dragon.

Harry was no longer thinking, but acting purely on instinct, every movement he made came completely naturally, from the moment he jerked his hand, sending the Staff upwards, to the moment when he gripped his hand again, his fist closing around the base of the wooden Staff.

And then he swung.

Not so much as to hit the creatures, but simply swung, and three trolls, a few feet away from the tip of the Staff, were thrown high into the air and out of sight through the clouds. Struck by some invisible force.

The dragon nearby forgot the panicking students, and moved quickly towards Harry, its red eyes glinting as the fire it breathed at him reflected in them.

A roaring sound, like thunder, and drops of rain on Harry's skin, told him that there was a storm in the air, one that was blowing the fire away from him. The remaining trolls were also moving towards him, taking advantage of his distraction by the dragon.

Harry wasn't quick enough.

Before he'd even had time to think of anything other than rendering the dragon's fire useless, Harry felt his body being slammed into, and being thrown high up, at least fifty feet into the air.

He fell, on an almost vertical path, back down into the clearing between the dragon and trolls. And he was still. He didn't move, he laid there, on the wet and cold concrete, barely aware of anything, other than the fact he should be dead, or at least in some pain. He could feel the presence of the lumbering trolls bearing down over his still form. Something less than gently prodded his side, as one of the troll's poked the apparently dead boy with their club.

An instinct came back upon him, he had to protect her.

He leapt from the ground, as though he had only been sunbathing, the Staff flew back into his open palm, and he ran back towards the trolls, and this time, he actually swung the club right at them. Two of them were thrown high into the air, and out of sight. But, unfortunately for the third, the staff made contact.

The troll leader howled in pain, as the staff became embedded in its side, drawing thick clumps of a greenish-grey fluid, it's blood. Light from the staff began to consume it, surrounding its entire being, and all but blinding those who watched the spectacle. The troll became completely enveloped in the light, and then, as suddenly as it had begun. It ended.

The troll had disappeared, nothing but a chalky residue on the ground were the troll had stood.

There was a crackle from the staff, Harry, though still acting on instinct, was faintly aware that his energy was almost spent.

The dragon moved towards him. Red eyes flickering with a power far more subtle, than Harry's own. But something in those eyes caught his attention. Pain, and anger.

There was a snapping sound, and then that of lightening striking, as the world around Harry changed, changed into that of light and raw magic. The colours and lights, flowed and ebbed around him. But Harry saw a magic surrounding the dragon, that should not have been there. It was dark and closed itself around the dragon's heart and mind, suffocating them. With what little was left within him, Harry found that once again, the coloured lights, snapped, and began to flow through him. His hand grew hot, burning with power and light, he let it go in the dragon's direction.

The darkness was lifted, and a shadow of evil drifted away from it, and then away from the Hogwarts platform.

The dragon shook its head as though waking from a dream. The lights of the real magical world, disappeared. To be replaced with the darkness on the platform. The dragon's eyes were now a golden yellow. It did what was unmistakably a bow, then it backed away slowly, before it spread it's wings and flew into the clouds. The storm was subsiding. The once harsh wind, became nothing more than a gentle breeze that tickled his face. Light from the sun began to poke through the darkness.

Harry thought only one thing.

*God I'm tired*

Before he blacked out, being caught in Hagrid's strong arms.

~o0o~

Waking up in Hogwarts hospital wing, had to rate as one of Harry's least favourite pastimes. Somewhere between Potions with Snape, and a 'polite' dinner with Aunt Marge.

He wiggled his toes, to make sure that they still worked, and to check that they were still there. He felt a little numb, and so began to move his legs, only to discover that there was something across one of them, pinning it down.

Opening his eyes, wincing slightly in the light, and turning his head, he saw something quite beautiful.

Hermione's head rested upon her arms, like a pillow, and was sleeping peacefully. There were small, dark patches beneath her eyes, that suggested sleep, wasn't something she'd had much of recently.

Harry felt content enough to let her sleep, watching as her eyelids fluttered slightly, and her shoulders raising a little as she breathed. Sunlight shone through the windows, a warm golden glow picked out the warm hues of Hermione's hair, and lit up her face, she looked almost angelic.

Harry watched her sleeping, her peace seemed to bring him some peace of mind too, made him a feel calmness, that he felt he had not had in some time. For about half an hour, he continued to watch over her, in a strange way, he felt that he was repaying her for doing the same thing.

Then Madam Pomfrey came into the room, and gave what was unmistakeably a squeal of delight, when she saw that he was awake. This woke Hermione with a jolt. Harry felt strangely disappointed, at her leaving her slumbering appearance behind.

"Oh Harry, your awake!"

"Of course I am, you didn't expect me to sleep all day did you?"

This was meant as a joke, but Hermione's face, smiling so brilliantly at him only a moment ago fell.

"Mr Potter, I'm afraid you've been asleep for more than a day."

"Oh? How long?"

"Harry, you've been asleep for more than two weeks!"

"Comatose actually Mr Potter. Albus wasn't very pleased that you'd used the Staff again, and so publicly."

"But...but I had too."

"Well that may be so, but didn't I tell you that using the Staff again too soon after the last time, might mean that you would never wake up?"

Harry nodded solemnly. It wasn't like he had much of a choice when it came to using the Staff, it just happened. And now Dumbledore was mad at him. Harry couldn't really imagine anything worse. But he'd had to do it, or half the student population would have been either pureed or fast-roasted.

"Now dear, eat this, and I'll fetch the headmaster."

Madam Pomfrey handed him a slab of chocolate about an inch thick, and the size of A4 paper, and bustled away through the double doors.

Harry looked down at the chocolate.

"Help me with this?"

Harry said, giving Hermione the most pathetically pleading look he could muster, Dudley being his inspiration. She smiled, and then with an not inconsiderable amount of effort, managed to snap off a small corner of the chocolate slab. He frowned a little, he still had a big slab in front of him.

"And if your really good, I might take some more of it." she teased.

A few minutes passed in comfortable silence, eating vast amounts of chocolate, being a good enough reason not to talk. But something occurred to Harry, and he thought he should ask her about it, while they were still alone.

"Err ... Hermione ... you didn't ... err... you didn't see anymore of my memories did you? Only I can't remember having any memory flashes this time, so... you know ... you shouldn't have either. I mean, you didn't ...did you?"

Hermione looked at him, a slight flush in her cheeks.

"I didn't see any of your memories Harry."

Harry's face beamed in relief at this.

Hermione didn't have the heart to tell him, that this time she'd felt his emotions and heard his thoughts, or rather, a burst of feelings and then a scary lack of conscious thoughts, as he'd run off to face the dragon and trolls.

Somehow though, she'd been able to feel his instincts, and when one had been strong enough, that it caused the conscious thought to 'protect her', she hadn't known what to think.

For all Hermione knew, 'her' could have been Cho Chang, she had noticed that Harry seemed to have somewhat of a crush on the attractive Ravenclaw seeker since their 3rd year. 'Her' could well have been Ginny, but to that extent, it could have been Pansy Parkinson or Professor McGonnagoll.

But really, Hermione hoped, as she hadn't realised until that moment that she needed to be 'her'. But of course, what chance was there that Harry saw her as anything other than a friend?

She sighed a little, she was much better off trying to stick with someone more attainable. Ron was a sweetheart, and she couldn't imagine him ever hurting her, and he was certainly becoming more handsome as he got older, maybe, just maybe, Ron was the one for her.

Considering what had been going on lately with Harry, Hermione knew that she'd be a lot safer with Ron, that was of course, providing that they ever managed to pluck up the courage to actually ask each other.

Finally Madam Pomfrey and a very stern-looking Dumbledore arrived.

Harry who had been about to ask Hermione why she was staring at him, shuffled under the headmasters gaze, and looked down at his bed sheets.

He sensed Dumbledore had shifted to the side of his bed. Harry didn't dare look up. And then after a few moments, onto the sheets, which had become quite fascinating, plopped a box of Bertie Bott's every flavour beans.

Harry glanced up at Dumbledore with something akin to shock. The faintest of smiles, was visible, tugging at the corners of the old wizards lips.

"Well done Mr Potter. For a lot of nerve, and some sheer stupidity. I trust that you won't be making anymore attempts to use to Staff without supervision next time, hmm?"

~o0o~

Madam Pomfrey kept Harry in the hospital wing for another week. Though there was always someone coming to visit, usually Ron, Hermione or Hagrid. Who once snuck Fang in for a visit, before Madam Pomfrey found him and shooed the both of them outside for breaking the rules about pets. Though Harry suspected it was because Madam Pomfrey knew as well as anyone else, that Hagrid's version of well-trained, meant that the animal hadn't killed or maimed anyone in the last six months.

Some of Harry's visitors were less welcome however. Some of Harry's teachers dropped by to give him homework, two weeks of catch-up work, wasn't something he would be eternally grateful for. Though some teachers, like Snape, sent work to him with students. Snape sent a particularly terrified-looking first year, who squeaked when Harry thanked him, and bolted out the door.

But last night, Harry had finally been allowed to return to his own bed in the Gryffindor tower. To his relief, the other fifth year boys that Harry shared a dormitory with, made no comments about what had happened, instead focusing on a 'welcome back from the hospital wing, again' party. Ron mentioned that Dumbledore had addressed the whole school at breakfast that morning, and basically told them not to pester Harry, with questions he couldn't answer. Something which Harry was eternally grateful for.

Of course it didn't stop the trepidation he felt when he awoke the next morning, preparing to go to the Great Hall and share breakfast with all the other students, the first time since the final day of term at the end of his forth year.

Ron had nudged him awake, ten minutes before breakfast was due to start. Harry scolded Ron for not waking him earlier, it wasn't as if his internal clock was working anymore. He rushed to brush his teeth, clean his face, get dressed and make some half-hearted effort to put a comb through his hair, but to no avail. He knew that they'd be some of the last into the hall this morning.

He glanced briefly at his reflection in the mirror. The bruises from his time with Uncle Vernon, were barely visible now, only a slight reddening on his face. Unfortunately they had been replaced with one large bruise that ran parallel with his scar, down one corner of his right eye and ended just below his cheek bone. It hurt a lot, considering he'd gotten it three weeks ago.

*Well it could have been worse, not everyone can survive being hit fifty feet into the air, with a club the size of a Volvo.*

Running out of Gryffindor tower with Ron, they discovered that they were indeed the last, and that the doors to the Great Hall had already been closed.

"Oh great." muttered Ron, as he started to heave one of the doors open. Harry helped him, and with some effort the door finally opened.

"Ah Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, sleep in again?"

An amused tone rang in Dumbledore's voice, as Harry and Ron walked quickly to their seats. Harry tried to ignore the fact that the eyes of everyone, student and teacher alike were following him to his seat.

He sat next to Hermione, quickly glad of her company, when she gave his hand a quick squeeze under the table.

Dumbledore gave the rest of his speech, something about the third floor being out-of-bounds again, only this time Moaning Myrtle deliberately flooding the boys toilets, was the reason. Madam Hooch wanted to know who thought it had been funny to enchant some of the school brooms to hover just outside the window of the Prefects bathroom. Which was everyone apparently, given the sniggering. And then.

"I regret to inform you that last night Professor Trelawney handed in her notice of early retirement, and will be leaving us at the end of the week." Dumbledore looked across the teachers table to where Harry had only just noticed Trelawney was sitting. She suddenly straightened herself up, and gave the students a sad smile, as if she was expecting everyone to burst into tears, just because Lavender and Patti had. Of course when she saw Harry looking at her, she gave him one of those looks she reserved for his impending death. This time it was a hand to the heart and a quick intake of breath, he heard Ron groan across from him, and turned to see him rolling his eyes.

"Now I'm sure I speak for everyone here, when I say just how much we will miss our dear Divinations Professor, and how difficult it will be to replace her, Sybill, my dear, your lessons have always been ... unique."

Dumbledore turned his attention back to the watching students.

"This means of course, that those of you taking Divination, will have some free lessons until the Professors replacement arrives, which may be some time. People of Professor Trelawney's ... talent, are rare to come by, but rest assured you will have a new teacher at the very least by next year. The library will be open for those of you wishing to study, if not come to Professor McGonagall, and she will find you something constructive to do. Though some of you ..." he paused and looked straight at Harry, "... will be making better use of their time."

Harry was left to ponder what he was going to make better use of his time with.

"All right!" Ron muttered beside him.

"Free lesson!"

With any luck, the next Divinations teacher, would leave him alone, and stop predicting his death. Dumbledore clapped his hands, and as usual, the tables lined themselves with bacon, kippers, sausages, cereals, and every kind of cooked egg.

Halfway through breakfast, before the Owl post arrived, Harry glanced up, and saw Draco Malfoy in a conference, with his equally detestable Slytherin buddies.

*Probably plotting the downfall of the Gryffindors again.*

At that moment, Draco just happened to look in Harry's direction, to see Harry looking at him. And the group of Slytherin's looked too. Draco picked up his fork, held it aloft, and then proceeded to pretend to pass out. The Slytherin's around him laughed mercilessly. A few of them pointed at Harry every now and then, though he tried to pretend he was no longer watching, and said something that would have them all in hysterics again.

"Oh get a new act!"

Apparently Hermione had chosen to look up just as Draco did his little fork-as-Staff swooning impression.

"Ignore him Harry. The Slytherin's were panicking more than a bunch of first-year Gryffindors in Snape's class for the first time. None of them would have thought about running up to six mountain trolls and dragon, to beat them off."

Harry smiled, recently, Hermione always knew just how to cheer him up, of course Ron did it in slightly less style.

"Too bloody right! The Slytherin's were pissing themselves!"

Then Owl post arrived. As with most days, Harry wasn't expecting anything, whilst other students got packages from home. So he was a little surprised when Hedwig flew down, looking a lot plumper than when he'd last seen her three weeks ago. She dropped off a small, purple, velvet, drawstring bag with a letter attached to it, with the writing on the outside in familiar Hogwarts green. Hedwig stayed back a few minutes longer than most of the owls, as Harry stroked her, and fed her some toast. She looked as happy as he'd ever seen her, her normal slightly stuffy attitude was replaced by an open affection. Finally she gave him a quick nip on the ear, and took off.

"What d'ya think it is Harry?" Ron enquired through a mouth full of sausage sandwich.

"Haven't a clue."

Harry opened the envelope, and pulled out a short, hand-written letter, in green Hogwarts ink.

*Dear Mr Potter,

Your final lesson today would have been Double Divination. As Prof. Trelawney will be leaving at the end of the week, and as you have already missed the majority of her lessons, it has been decided that you need not attend the remainder of these lessons.*

Harry let out a silent 'YES!' at this.

*Instead you will be required to attend the first of your new lessons to train you in the history and practicalities of using the Staff of Gaia.

Your teachers will include Profs. Moody and Lupin, as well as myself. Please stay behind in the Great Hall after lunch today.

Albus Dumbledore

(Headmaster)*

Lupin? As in Remus Lupin? That was almost too good to be true.

Harry immediately shared the news with Hermione and Ron.

"That's great, he must be the Dark Art's Co-teacher Moody was on about. We haven't actually met him yet." Ron said enthusiastically.

"Well it does make sense, doesn't it? Professor Moody can take over whenever Lupin is ... indisposed. And there are probably things that he can tell us about that Moody might not. This will be great, the knowledge of the Dark Arts that both of them have, will more than make up for the first two years."

Hermione added

Harry smiled. Trust Hermione to be happy when there was even more to be learned.

"I wonder what they can actually teach you about the Staff then? I mean there's only supposed to be another two wizards in the entire world who can actually use staffs."

"Well, I suppose that they can only teach Harry the history of the Staff itself Ron. I guess that they hope it might give a better understanding of how it works. I mean 10,000 years is a lot of history isn't it? And there's got to be a way of using it, without risking falling into a coma every time you use it."

"I suppose." Harry said a little numbly.

10,000 years? Strange. Whenever Harry had held it, even when he was simply near it, the Staff had always felt, well ... older.

He wondered where it was now. Dumbledore's office he supposed. He hoped to God that it wasn't with Filch. The nasty old care taker of Hogwart's, would probably let his cat, Mrs Norris, use it as a scratching post.

*God I hope its safe.*

But a small voice at the back of his mind, told him not to be so stupid, because the Staff was safe, and that Harry should know it is, because he could feel it's presence anyway.

Some students had finished eating now, and were starting to leave, and it occurred to Harry, that he didn't even know what his first lesson was.

"Ron, what do we have first lesson?"

Ron looked a little pale.

"Oh sorry mate, we've got double potions."

Harry groaned. This well could be a very long day, and it was sure to be even longer. Alicia Spinnet had caught him just before he left the hall, and asked him if he felt up to a little Quidditch practice. Harry really wished he hadn't been so quick to say 'yes' now.

~o0o~

The former dungeons, in which Snape's lessons were held, still looked like they hadn't been cleaned for a few decades. In fact, if it weren't for the workbenches and cauldrons, you could almost expect to see students being hung by their toes from the ceiling, with a few well-aimed curses heading in their direction.

Harry's mind seemed to cast Neville Longbottom as one of the unfortunate students. His pet toad, Trevor, strung up beside him.

Harry sat between Hermione and Ron, and got ready. Snape blasted in as usual, practically taking the door off its ancient hinges. He looked around, clearly disappointed that all the Gryffindor's had made it in before him, and he couldn't take points off for being two seconds late.

Snape's gaze lingered on Harry for a moment longer than normal. And instead of the usual complete loathing, Harry thought that he could see something else in Snape's eyes. It looked almost like ... respect? Tinged with a healthy amount of fear.

*Well, that was unexpected. Being able to use this Staff thingy might be kinda helpful.*

The potions lesson that followed was pretty much normal, Snape was still barking orders faster than the students could write them down, and then shouting at them for not making the potions quick enough at the same time. He was taking as many points from Gryffindor (Neville) as he could, whilst giving them out threefold to Slytherin (Malfoy). He even seemed to recover his natural feelings for Harry, and managed to take two points from him, for not keeping his work place clean enough.

But fifteen minutes before the lesson ended, something happened that did get everyone's attention.

Draco Malfoy, at the centre of the Slytherin's was making a few choice comments about Harry, at a non-to-subtle volume level.

"I mean, if Potter can use the Staff, we could probably train a monkey to use it."

"If a flubberworm turned up in Moaning Myrtles toilet, he'd probably go and attack that too!"

All the while he had the Slytherin's in hysterics, drawing nasty glares from every Gryffindor, Draco's cauldron had begun to overflow. Normally this wouldn't be a concern for the over-confident Slytherin. Snape would find some feeble reason to blame a Gryffindor, and make them clean it up, But today, Snape had been standing in the shadows of the room, a mask of cold indifference on his face, before he had began moving, creeping very quietly forward. When Malfoy turned around, after a slightly more vile comment, he grinned as he saw Snape stood beside him, clearly expecting some form of praise, or a new comment from his mentor-in-insults. But ever so quietly, Snape began to speak. He spoke in that way that so frequently silenced an entire class of students, a voice that reflected a silent power, that required no real vocal flexing, in shouting, as some needed too.

"Mr Malfoy, I believe that your cauldron is over-flowing."

Malfoy was still grinning at this point, clearly thinking Snape was about to make someone else clean it up.

"I do believe that that warrants 10 points ... to be taken from Slytherin for carelessness."

Now Malfoy and every student just looked upon Snape with a mixture of shock and confusion.

"Perhaps if you weren't so busy making insulting comments about your fellow students, you might not be failing in your studies, I've seen more talent in a muggle Mr Malfoy.

If I ever hear you insulting the Staff of Gaia, or the one who has the power to wield it, a power a miserable squib like yourself cannot even begin to fathom, I will personally see to it that your thrown out of Hogwarts, and that your mislead father is told that for such a high and mighty pureblood family, his own son has three times less talent than Miss Granger, a muggle born. Do you understand me Mr Malfoy?" Snape's voice had become a hiss.

The entire class fell silent, some stared at Malfoy, who looked like he was struggling not to start crying, and the rest stared at Harry, with even more awe on their expressions than had been there that morning.

Had Snape really just given such a scathing rebuke to one of his own students. And defended so ardently the one student that he was widely known to hate the most? In that moment, the first of many to come. People began to realise that the Staff, and Harry, may be even more important, than anyone could have ever have imagined.

~o0o~

"Well .... that was weird." Ron managed to say, between mouthfuls of chicken legs.

"Your telling me." Harry replied. Hermione just looked worried.

"What's wrong Herm?"

"It's just that, well, I don't understand why their giving you a Staff lesson, a day after you've been let out of the hospital wing, for being put into a two week coma the last time you used it. I mean, I really don't want to have to watch you sleeping for another month, if it happens again."

"It's alright Hermione. You don't have to watch!"

She smiled a little and then punched him lightly on his arm.

"You know that's not what I meant."

"I know, I'm sorry. But I don't think that they would do this without a good reason."

"Harry's right Herm. You don't really think 'ol Dumbledore's gonna let Harry fall into a coma again do you? I'll bet that their just gonna give him a really long, really boring history lessons, like Professor Binn's class. Only difference being, that as he'll be the only one there, it'll be harder to fall asleep inconspicuously."

Harry kicked Ron's shin under the table, causing him to spit out half a chicken leg, and a couple of green things that might have been peas.

As Ron rubbed his sore leg, Harry took a closer look at the little green things, pretending to become engrossed at the sight of them.

"My, my Ron, we are slipping up aren't we?"

"Wad-da-ya mean?"

"Your eating vegetables."

Hermione snorted, and had to put a hand to her mouth, to stop herself spiting out her own dinner.

Harry saw his opportunity to test run a new joke the Weasley twins had told him at the Burrow.

Moving towards her so that he could tell it to her without anyone else hearing, she suddenly jerked away from him, and held her hand up in front of herself , like she was expecting him to start tickling her. Harry realised that that was a much better idea. Grinning mercilessly, he dove in, and after only a few moments, Hermione cracked. Food flew out of her mouth faster than a house wife upon seeing Gilderoy Lockhart's smile. Some of it landed on Neville's Beef and Yorkshire pudding loaded fork.

Harry smiled in triumph, and Hermione just blushed.

"Sorry Neville" she muttered as she wiped some mashed potato bits off his face.

When her head turned back to him, Harry realised that he still had his hands gripping her waist. For a moment he looked her straight in the eyes, and felt a flicker of energy in his solar plexus, almost like the Staff was right behind him, before a loud fake cough from Seamus, saying something that sounded a lot like,

"Pathetic."

broke his gaze, and the feeling. And allowed him to see instead about six faces grinning at them.

Harry quickly removed his hands, and blushed. Realising that being best friends with a girl, was going to start getting a little awkward now.

Hermione went even more red, and quickly regained her interest in food.

Luckily for her, she didn't have to see the look on Ron's face, as Harry did. It was hurt, pure and simple. But Ron recovered quickly and joined in the conversation with his brothers. But the emotion had been there, clear as day, if only for a moment. Hurt, and never again did Harry want to see that on his friends face.

*He must think that I like Hermione more than I should. Probably thinks she likes me back after what just happened. Damn.*

He chastised himself, until the time came for the Great Hall to begin emptying, and his friends to say goodbye and good luck, by then Harry had vowed one thing.

*I'm gonna let Ron be happy with Hermione, no matter what. Hell, if it comes down to it, I'll help them get together.*

Harry ignored the pang in his heart at that thought.

~o0o~

Harry hung around nervously at the back of the Hall, as Dumbledore and Moody used magic to stack the long House tables against the walls. Whatever they were planning on, it looked like it would be taking a lot of space to do it.

The doors to the Great Hall opened behind Harry, and in strode Remus Lupin, and Snuffles, otherwise known as the animagus form of his Godfather Sirius Black. Under one arm, Lupin carried the case which contained the Staff of Gaia.

"Harry!" Lupin said, smiling and opening his arms wide, enveloping him in a hug. After a moment, Harry hugged him tightly back, in a way, he was like a second Godfather to him. When they stepped back, Lupin had a grin on his face, which made him appear to be about 10 years younger.

He took out his wand from within the folds of his robes, and pointed it at the doors of the Great Hall, muttering something that Harry recognised as a powerful locking spell, the doors swung shut.

The minute they did so, Sirius bounded up to Harry in his dog form, changed so quickly that he made himself dizzy, and in his human form hugged his godson.

"Everybody seems to like me today." Harry muttered.

Once the hugs and pleasantries had been exchanged, they all walked into the centre of the room, were five seats had been placed in a circle, one opposite the case holding the Staff, which Harry was told would be his seat. There was also a small raised table in the centre of the circle, on which rested a single acorn. Dumbledore motioned for them to sit, and all but Harry did.

"Nervous Harry?" Sirius asked, smiling slightly. Harry could only nod.

"Well don't be. This will probably be tough, but your as strong as a Griffin, and we'll be with you every step of the way."

Harry's eyes widened, that wasn't very comforting.

Sirius looked slightly confused as to why his words weren't having the desired effect. Lupin leaned towards his old friend.

"Sirius, Griffins aren't exactly the kind of animal, you want to compare Harry with."

"Why?"

"Their extinct! You never did pay much attention in Care of Magical creatures did you? "

Lupin roared with laughter, Sirius looked severely put out, until his face cracked, and he began to laugh to.

*Now that's more reassuring, at least their not afraid to look like their having fun around me.*

Feeling a little more confident, Harry took his place, directly opposite the Staff and the table with the acorn on it. He tried not to look at it, when it was taken out it's case. He didn't want to risk activating it by mistake.

But unfortunately a subtle humming noise, told him that it was really not his choice at the moment. The Staff began glowing a soft amber colour.

"Excellent." Dumbledore said, a familiar twinkle in his eyes.

"Then lets get started!"

~o0o~

"Harry, Harry!"

Harry was faintly aware that he was being shaken quite roughly by someone.

*Great* he thought, *Uncle Vernon can't wait until morning, to start hitting me.*

Rolling over, he mumbled.

"It's too early, Uncle Vernon, hit me later."

It was then that Harry realised that he wasn't in bed, but on a cold, hard, stone floor, and he was aware that there were people crowded around him. The hands that had been shaking him roughly a moment ago, were now still, and gripped his arms loosely.

"Harry, wake up." someone called softly.

Harry cracked one eye open, wincing slightly as light hit the pupil, and opened the other. Sirius's face came into view, he was crouched over him, there was a look of concern ... and anger? On his face.

*Oh, I did just call him Vernon, no wonder he's pissed.*

Sirius helped to pull Harry to his feet, but he swayed, almost falling over again. He felt very weak. Sirius gripped his upper arm to keep him upright.

"Perhaps it would be best if you go to the hospital wing tonight, Mr Potter." Dumbledore said rather pointedly.

"Oh please Professor, don't make me go back there tonight, I'm just tired. Madam Pomfrey is getting sick of seeing me."

The old wizard sighed, and studied him carefully for a moment, Harry felt quite like an animal behind the bars of a cage at the zoo, a look of sympathy passed Dumbledore's face.

*Must be the last of my species or something.*

"Very well, go back to your room in Gryffindor tower. But I will be sending Poppy up to see you soon. And as it's dinner time, I'll send Dobby up with some food."

"It's dinner time already?"

"Oh yes. You've been unconscious for almost half an hour. In fact we've had to keep the students waiting outside. If you had not woken up soon, I'm afraid you would have been waking up in the hospital wing, in Madam Pomfrey's capable care, without any choice in the matter."

Dumbledore motioned to Lupin to help him start moving the tables back. Which was when Harry noticed it for the first time. Turning to Sirius, he asked,

"Did I do that?"

Sirius just smiled slightly, a look of intense pride on his face, and then he nodded.

"Wow." Harry breathed. He started feeling weaker again. Sirius, leaned him against the teachers dining table, and watched him quietly for a few minutes, as Dumbledore and Lupin began moving the last of the tables back to it's place, or rather a little further away now, since there was now a little less room in the Great Hall.

Moody was eyeing Harry intently, making him feel very uncomfortable. Somehow, Moody could always make you feel like he suspected you of a particularly horrible crime, or that he thought you were likely to commit one. The Staff was back in its case, and strangely, heat seemed to be radiating from it, coming off in waves, and distorting the view of the Hall behind it.

When Dumbledore had finished, Sirius patted Harry on the shoulder, and transformed back into Snuffles. Lupin came towards him, and moved to stand slightly behind Harry, gripping both of his arms, to help hold him up. Mad-eye Moody finally stopped staring at him, and picked up the case containing the Staff of Gaia. All of them moved around the outskirts of the Hall, easier than going through the centre, or attempting it at this moment, given what Harry had achieved with the Staff earlier.

Dumbledore removed the locking spell, on the doors of the Great Hall, and they swung open. A few hundred curious faces peered back at them.

Harry suddenly found the floor quite fascinating. Lupin guided him gently out of the hall, through the throng of students, who all jostled to get a good look at him. Though they parted as he and Lupin moved forward, almost like they were afraid of getting burnt.

Another wave of grogginess passed over him, and Harry found that at that moment, he didn't much care what the other students felt, all he wanted to do, was get some sleep. He started to feel slightly numb all over, and his legs were getting weaker. He was becoming more and more exhausted, and before they made it through the crowd, Harry felt his legs buckle beneath him. A dozen sets of hands, shot out to hold him up, and Lupin shifted to better hold him. They started to move again.

Harry was faintly aware that whispers were following him. And that he could hear some of the things that were being said, and then strangely enough, there seemed to be a voice at the back of his mind, telling him some of the things that weren't being said. This was, understandably a little strange to Harry, but feeling numb, he didn't really give much more thought to it.

In what seemed to be no time at all, Harry felt himself being lifted onto a soft surface.

*Bed* his mind yawned.

He felt his shoes, cloak and school tie being removed, and heavy covers being pulled over him. There seemed to be a faint murmuring of a conversation, but Harry couldn't make out the words. And then, with an ardent bliss, Harry fell asleep.

~o0o~

Lightening struck out through the dark, stormy sky, at the roaming clouds. A more than gentle, icy breeze blew around the cold, grey, slate mountains. Everything upon the land, and within the air was a harsh grey, except for the strangely glowing purple and amber tones, from beyond the horizon, that picked out the shapes on the landscape, and the night sky.

Harry stood alone, on what he sensed had once been a glorious green plateau.

Death surrounded him.

Blackened, fire ravaged trees, wilted, defeated, dotted the landscape. All burned, but not by fire, they were burned by the passing of so many souls.

The rivers ran in trickles. Earths life-blood was drying up, no longer supporting even the most un-wanting of creatures.

Another lightening strike, flickered, lighting up the clouds from both above them and below.

Amongst the noise of thunder, and what sounded like the Earth rumbling in pain, Harry could hear the clipping noise of horse hooves, and the cry of the animal itself.

Death had taken this place, ended so much, that need not have passed. A great evil had been defeated, but at a great cost.

In the distance, Harry could see the horse now, bright white, and it's rider. But the riders image was somewhat misty, like someone had placed a creamy coloured gauze between them, and light shone through it, like that of a warm summers morning. An unearthly golden glow was being cast, with no other source than the rider themselves. And they carried something.

The rider moved ever closer, the great horse slowed, and then stopped without any vocal command of its rider, beside Harry. The light was in his eyes, and surrounded him with a feeling of maternal warmth. The rider seemed to glide down from their place upon the horse, their face and body moving through the light, until it was now behind them.

She was the most beautiful being that Harry had ever seen, if he had ever wondered what angels looked like, he now believed he may have an idea. There was more ageless beauty upon her face, than any Veela could ever claim. Her complexion was creamy, and with no marks of any kind, save for a small brown freckle beneath her left eye. Her face seemed to portray a perfect symmetry of lines that it should not have been possible to have. Her eyes were the most startlingly sea blue, with richly darkened pupils. Waves of golden red hair fell down her back. It was gathered in such a style that it revealed two important features beneath it.

Delicately shell-shaped ears.

The woman smiled. Harry felt the warmth of a sun upon his face. She leant down slightly, strangely cool hands rose up to cup Harry's face, and tilted it upwards. He felt a gentle kiss being placed upon his forehead. Then the Staff of Gaia, was placed into his hands.

When she spoke, all of Harry's cares fell away. It was like a soft hum, peaceful, flowing like honey.

"Use it well."

~o0o~

Hermione was angry. So angry in fact, that the air around her seemed to crackle with pent up hostility, to such a degree that none of the young men that sat near her, would dare to say anything about it being 'that time of the month'. Ron looked at her with concern evident upon his face. He didn't like seeing her like this, though he could well understand. Finally, the boiling rage that had been quietly been simmering beneath her semi-composed surface, food on her plate bearing the brunt of this anger, exploded.

"What the bloody hell do they think their doing, for God's sake? He was only in a coma for the past two weeks, does that not mean anything?"

A silence, and nervous, unsure faces from the half of the Gryffindor table that heard her outburst, was her only answer. Ron shot a few meaningful looks to the others, and gradually they fell back into their own conversations again.

"Herm." He said softly, feeling a little uneasy when her gaze turned directly on to him.

"This probably isn't the best time or place to talk about this." Hoping she'd get the hint, and just as he was about to suggest that they finish dinner and go talk, Hermione slammed her fork down, so hard bits of food flew off her plate and across the table -in Neville's direction.

"Fine"

She got up, and stormed out of the Great Hall, many eyes watching as she did so. But before she made it to the door, she turned, and looked back to the centre of the room, to look again and marvel at the product of Harry's Staff lesson. An extremely ancient-looking, twisted, and very large Oak tree was growing there, as if it were only in the first steps of life, lush green foliage covered it.

And once again, the only thing Hermione could think of to describe the feeling she got when she saw it, was just as it had been when she'd first seen it, and first felt it happening.

*Oh.*

~o0o~

Hermione felt almost completely over-whelmed by an anger she never knew she was capable of, one that was tinged by an ample fear. She was so desperately afraid for Harry, and whatever it was that he was becoming involved in. She saw him, always so tired, it was too soon, too soon to try and make him perform what were seemingly miracles. And so she felt angry at those who claimed to care for him, when they seemed to be as anxious as children with a new toy, desperate to find out everything it could do.

But Harry was still human, didn't that make him just as frail a being as anyone else? And yet they insisted on treating him as though he was superhuman.

Hermione would probably be the first to admit, that there were times, when Harry did seem to be something more than, or other than human, And then he'd get hurt, and that illusion would be shattered.

Hermione probably wouldn't have felt this kind of fear for him a few years ago. Oh, she'd still fear it alright, but this time she knew something that she hadn't really seen before. She knew that Harry was, not even all that deep down, afraid. Afraid, for the very good reasons of having a homicidal, all-powerful wizard trying to kill him for the best part of five years, and living with the Dursleys, which, Hermione really didn't want to think about. But even all this wasn't what really had Harry afraid. Hermione knew, that though on a conscious level Harry was just as curious, and made just as many jokes as everyone else about his burgeoning abilities. Hermione knew, that deep down, somewhere inside of him, a small part of which he seemed to be unwillingly sharing with her, he was afraid. Afraid of not only what he could do, but of what he might do, and when it came right down to it, of what he might be.

So, knowing what she did about this deceptively open person, it was understandable she was getting a tad, well, hacked-off. Just plain pissed was probably a better description. Even the figures in the paintings she was storming past, hid around the corners of the frames, until she moved to another corridor, only returning to whisper once they were sure she was out of ear-shot. All of them agreeing on one reason for her anger. A kind of agreement, that the temperamental paintings only reached once every seven decades.

So lost was she in her own thoughts, that Hermione didn't realise she'd just made the long trek upstairs to the Gryffindor tower, until she was already past the dorm room and on the landing that separated the fifth year girls and boys dormitories. She twisted on her heel with the intention of going to her room to try and get some sleep, but paused mid-turn.

The fifth year boys room was just opposite, currently no further away from her than her own room. She couldn't just, take a little peak could she? To see if Harry was alright, see if he wanted anything.

Her mind, as always summed up the problem with lightening quick speed. The list of pros and cons quickly formed inside her mind.

1)Harry might be already asleep, thus wasted journey into the unknown, and potentially dangerous world of a boys bedroom.

2)He might be asleep, but if he then woke up while she there, she didn't relish trying to tell him what she was doing sneaking around in his room.

3)Unexpected arrival of a teacher. i.e Snape. -Hermione momentarily shuddered at the thought of trying to explain it to Snape. Big trouble.

4)Well it was the BOYS room and everything, God knows what else might be going on in there.

Good side.

1)It's Harry.

Hermione finished weighing up the problem within a heartbeat, and choose the door on her left.

*Stupid* she chastised herself. Somehow, despite all of her intellectual abilities, she hadn't thought of the little factor of the teachers already being in the room.

*Well at least it's not Snape.*

Perched on Harry's trunk, at the bottom of his four-poster bed, was Professors Lupin and Dumbledore, apparently in mid-discussion about Harry. Who himself, appeared to be fast asleep under the covers. They'd both looked up as the door flew open, but did not appear at all startled by her sudden appearance in the boys dorm room. Dumbledore had a twinkle in his eye that suggested he was rather more amused.

"I wondered when one of you would come up. Though I had thought you might have finished dinner first."

"I wasn't hungry." Hermione replied softly. Before she moved into the room, letting the door shut behind her. She walked across the central gathering in the room, which suddenly seemed to have expanded, making the walk even longer. Keenly aware that the two teachers were watching her, but they flicked their attention back, once Hermione had reached the four-poster, containing a single sleeping figure, beneath it's old, deep red canopy.

Harry didn't look as helpless, as he had done the last few times she'd observed him sleeping. Not quite so frail. Now, even in his sleep, he radiated a kind of restful power.

She looked at his face, and saw, just about beneath a hand -the thumb of which he was coming awfully close to sucking on, making him look very cute- that his eyelids were fluttering, a sure sign that he was dreaming. Hermione hoped that for once it was a peaceful dream, and not one of the prophetic ones he had about Voldemort, dreams that with any luck people might be a little more willingly to believe in now. But there were other dreams that Hermione could imagine. Ones she never again hoped to hear him mumbling about, in his sleep again. As she had done many times when she'd watched over him.

It was strange, that even comatose, Harry was still able to dream. Even Madam Pomfrey couldn't explain it.

In the few days before he woke up, his coma became more like a fitful sleep. Fitful, because Harry's dreams were only ever nightmares, or so it seemed. Whenever he dreamed, those were the times that the feeling of power that one felt surrounding him, grew stronger in intensity, and more uneasy.

But now, that feeling was calm, like the sea waters in a small cove, gentle, unhurried.

"He's dreaming." she stated, perhaps aware that she'd spent quite some time thinking, and had not been very personable to the two men in the room.

"How can you tell?" Lupin asked.

Hermione heard her voice saying something about eyelid patterns and R.E.M's sleep, as her book-learned knowledge poured out. Remus nodded, though he didn't really look like he'd understood a word said.

Hermione's shifted back to Harry.

"Why are you doing this to him?"

"What do you mean?"

"I believe Remus, that Miss Granger would like to know why we've been pushing at Harry so hard."

"Oh"

Dumbledore turned his kindly eyes to Hermione.

"Miss Granger, how much do you know about the Staff of Gaia, or any Staff for that matter?"

"Not much more than you told me." she replied, moving to sit on a nearby chair. Lupin looked momentarily shocked that she wouldn't have a hundred things to add, before he remembered that she hadn't exactly been the bookworm of late.

"I've tried looking in the library once or twice, but there weren't many books on the subject. And the few that were there, are more theory based works than anything factual."

"Ah, I see. Did none of these books include information, on the practicalities of using a Staff?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Might be time for a lesson, Albus."

Hermione blinked. She'd never heard anyone call the headmaster by his first name. Madam Pomfrey and occasionally Professor McGonagall were the exception to the rule. Everyone else seemed to respect him from afar, even Hagrid, whom she'd always thought to be very close to the aging wizard, refused to call him by his first name.

"Now lets see, where to start, where to start ... perhaps ... yes that's it.

To use a Staff, not only requires great magical power, but a great need for focus. A need so great in fact, that the sheer amount of physical force required to concentrate, is draining. How much energy is required, is dependant on how large a task as been set."

"So that's why he became unconscious every time he used it?"

"Well, that's part of the reason. Harry has ... well, he was already quite drained , and has few energy reserves of his own."

"It's quite amazing really. He probably should have died, after the troll attack, but he was only in a coma for two weeks!" Lupin added.

"Only!!!" she replied, some of her burning fury at the teachers returning.

"Miss Granger, you have to understand, that I would, if possible, do everything I could to keep Harry from harm. I have done what I could in the past, and continue to do so. But fate, it seems, has something greater in mind for our young friend, and always has. And those destined for greatness must put up with more than their fair share of unhappy things. He's been given a great power, now he must learn how to use it, and more importantly, how to control it."

"But, if he's so powerful, who is to say that what you have to teach him, will be of any consequence? No disrespect intended Professor."

"None taken Miss Granger, and I can understand your concern, you make a valid point."

Lupin jumped back into the conversation.

"But Harry has shown a certain aptitude for stronger magic's, ones that even full-grown Aurors have some difficulty mastering. A patronus charm, for example. It takes many months of training to pull one off, but Harry managed it after a handful of lessons."

"Which leads to another point Remus. Miss Granger is perfectly correct when she suggests that this situation is not entirely within our capabilities as people of magic, to deal with. Thus, I have sent for the only being in this world, who may be able to, if they so desire. Unfortunately, it is unlikely that she will arrive before this school year is over."

Lupin looked as though this was the first he had heard of any such person. Which was confirmed to Hermione a few moments later, when he quietly enquired about it with Dumbledore. The old teacher, however, would say no more on the subject, other than it was highly sensitive information, that only he and his messenger were aware of, and that he intended to keep it this way. He apologised for the secrecy, but promised that it was a necessity. He also mentioned that Harry had been sent something form this mysterious person earlier that day, though he had no knowledge of what it was himself, but he was sure it would come in handy.

For a brief moment all three of them looked at Harry, the feeling of power in the room grew stronger, but was still strangely calm. After a few moments, Lupin and Dumbledore stood up. The older left, promising to have Dobby, the house-elf bring some food up, as undoubtedly Harry would be hungry when he awoke. Lupin however, returned a moment after he had left the room.

"Hermione." He said softly, startling her, as she hadn't noticed his return. Lupin's gaze flickered between her and Harry.

"Sirius told me about what happened. About what you experienced, when Harry held the Staff." He sighed at the look on her face, and clearly under the weight of whatever he was about to share with her.

"The headmaster was a little wary about sharing this information with you, and though I would normally do whatever he asked, I felt I had to disagree with him this time. I believe that you have a right to know what we suspect is happening to you.

You already know that Harry is very strong magically, but emotionally, as a human being, he's ... he's ... well probably a little screwed up. And you're both so very young. There are certain elements of what is happening to Harry when he uses the Staff, that due to his young age, and other ... underlying circumstances, he will find hard to cope with. Until he becomes accustomed to it. In time that is. The kind of things that open up to Harry when he's using the Staff, are probably somewhat over-whelming. And so he needs to ... siphon, I think that's the right word. He needs to siphon some of it off. And it would seem that he has chosen you, to be the one to receive these residual memories, or feelings."

"Me?"

"Yes, you Hermione." The Professor smiled lightly.

"Harry would only pick someone for a task like this, whom he trusts implicitly, given the nature of the things you are being allowed to see or feel. I doubt it was even a conscious decision on his part. You are the one person on this planet, that he trusted enough to share a part of his very being with. It is a great burden, and a responsibility Hermione. One that I'm sorry to say for you, can not be taken lightly.

I have no doubt that Harry will eventually master these new abilities, and the you will be no longer burdened as you are. He's sharing with you things that he may never share with anyone else. It's important that you respect his wishes and do the same, unless you feel it to be of the up most urgency, and you need to speak to Sirius, Dumbledore, or myself."

"I know." Her voice was barely above a whisper, and her throat suddenly felt dry and scratchy.

"But it isn't a burden, not in the way you think. It's an honour. Though I do not understand why he would have chosen me. I think it would have been a better idea to pick someone like you or his Godfather. Above all people why chose me? Surely someone else could have made a better job of it."

"I'm sorry Hermione. Perhaps Dumbledore was right to think it too soon to tell you."

"No! No, I wouldn't take it back now. Now I know, now I understand how important it is. I just don't understand why he would pick me.

"Why not Hermione?" a slight grin appeared on the professor's face.

"Your one of the few people who've always managed to be there for him, no matter what. That's something even Ron can not claim."

~o0o~

When Harry woke up just two short hours later -shocking Hermione, who'd expected him to be asleep for at least a couple of days- he looked more well-rested than he had in months. Though his mood seemed a little more sombre, and his smiles seemed a little more forced -Perhaps his dream was a little less peaceful than she had believed. He retained his humour long enough though.

When he'd woken, cracking one eyelid open, he'd seen Hermione lounging in a chair beside him, looking thoughtfully at the chocolate éclair she had half-devoured.

"We've got to stop meeting like this you know. People will start to talk."

Hermione had jumped in her seat, dropped her éclair, and then seemed to go slightly red.

*Wait a minute, did I just flirt? And another thing, when did my voice change?*

Hermione couldn't claim to be an expert on the biology of adolescent boys, but surely their voices didn't change in a few hours, and especially if those were spent unconscious.

Harry had felt slight embarrassment as Hermione encouraged him to speak, while she tried to figure it out. Before she dismissed it as being one of those wizard things.

Then they began to discuss a few more important things.

Harry described to Hermione, in as much detail as he was able, what had happened during in his first Staff lesson. From the end of lunch, at 1.30pm that day, they'd spent over two hours going over the history of the Staff, such as there was known. Of the theories of who may have owned it during it's long existence, around ten thousand years of history to cover. As this was where all records of the Staff ended. So they therefore assumed that the last wizard whose name was attached to the Staff, was believed to be the one who had created it. This was a wizard called Xhiang Xial, the man who'd given it its name. But, though the records they had on this wizard were limited, there was never any evidence that he had been skilled enough to do something like this.

Dumbledore told Harry -once they had finished with the history lesson for the day, and moved onto a practical- that he and the others believed that 'Focus' was the key to mastering the Staff. That and learning how much of his own energy he could reasonably let go of, during this effort.

It was with this viewpoint, that their lesson had begun. They decided to give Harry what they had believed to be a relatively small task. To grow the first shoot and root of an oak tree, from an acorn. Which, as it turned out, was no small task, especially as Harry, in the state induced whilst using the Staff, could only consciously grab a hold of a few words, in order to do something. In this case, the words 'Grow' and 'Live', were the only words Harry could think of when using the Staff. So instead of making the first roots and shoots grow, he made an entire tree.

Harry tried to describe how he was acting almost entirely on instinct. That a single word, could become an all-consuming task. These words prompted an instinct within him, one which seemed to know exactly what it was doing, it felt almost primal. Because it was so consuming, he found that he couldn't actually 'do things by halves'. Something which was either to be a source of great concern, considering how draining it was for him, or to feel relief at. If there was another attack, it was almost comforting to know that Harry would be fully able to protect people again, and not give any Deatheaters the equivalent of a quick slap and nothing more.

Harry had been aware only of the feeling of creating a life, it wasn't until he'd been about to pass out, again, that he saw a very large, old-looking, yet somehow new, Oak tree growing in the centre of the Great Hall.

~o0o~

Harry and Hermione spent a few more hours talking, and rapidly began to run low on Chocolate Frogs. Hermione felt more than a little concern, that Harry's mood was becoming even more sombre, and even a little angry. He said he didn't think that his teachers were going to let him near the Staff again in a hurry. In fact he'd practically snapped at Hermione, when she'd expressed her relief at this.

When the boys came through the door to get ready for bed at nine 'o' clock that evening, it was almost a relief for her. She made a hasty exit, listening to the wolf-whistles that followed her. Her head held down, she never even noticed the look on Ron's face as she brushed past him, colour rising in her cheeks.

Ron recovered from the shock of seeing Hermione practically run out of the boys dorm room, in order to ask Harry how he feeling, especially as no-one was expecting him to be awake yet.

Only to be surprised a second time by his friends more grown-up voice. His own had had only just finished squeaking a few days before Harry's arrival at the Burrow.

He was pleased to note that his friend didn't seem to be at all ill, just tired, and there was something of an aura of negative feeling around him. Though not so great that Ron couldn't prompt a smile. Ron was also pleased to see a stack of éclairs next to Harry's bed. Which Harry, already full to exploding point, quite happily shared.

Though Harry was tired, he seemed somewhat restless. So Ron obligingly challenged him to a few rounds of Wizards chess. At which, he once again thrashed him at.

He was glad to see he hadn't lost his abilities in that department, and that his friends ever-burgeoning powers, didn't mean he could play a better game of Chess.

Ron didn't like to think that he was jealous, but he would admit that sometimes he couldn't help it. Everything seemed to happen to Harry. Famous. Skilled Quidditch player. Joining the house team in his first year. A natural talent for some defensive -he didn't even want to think about the offensive, that poor troll- magic's. Oh, and now quite possibly one of the most powerful Wizards who ever lived, couldn't forget that one.

But, as Ron would sometimes have to remind himself, for all the enviable things that happened to him, there were many, many unenviable things.

As he came from such a large family, he knew that they could sometimes be a pain, but he couldn't live without a single member of his family, even Percy. He didn't know how to, and for Harry to never have even known his parents, when so many around him had, was a kind of torture Ron hoped he would never have to understand. Then there was the more obvious factor of You-Know-Who, and the Dursleys. If ever Ron found himself getting jealous, he found he could forcibly remind himself of things like the time Harry and Cedric disappeared at the Triwizard Tournament, or their more disturbing reappearance. He could remind himself of the day he opened the cupboard door, but that tended to lead him to feeling like throwing up again.

It reminded Ron, that for everything his friend had, there were another three things he got, that no one their age, or no one anyway, should have to experience. And that was why, he intended to be there for Harry, even if he would always be in his shadow. It was enough to know that he could make a difference now.

He and Harry struck up a conversation about Quidditch as they played Chess. Harry admitted he missed the thrill of flying around on his broom, which had remained packed in the bottom of his trunk since he'd last used it, during the first task of the Triwizard tournament. Gryffindor, was currently down a Captain and a Keeper. Apparently Alicia Spinnet had volunteered to take over temporarily, until a more permanent solution could be found. She didn't want to have to devote herself to it, since her N.E.W.T's were coming up this year.

She had announced that they would be holding trials for a new Keeper this week. Ron had decided to tryout, and Harry gave his full support, though as it would be a team decision, he couldn't guarantee he would get it. But he did promise that he would practice with him, as he could do with it himself.

They finally went to bed very early in the following morning, filled up with more sweets than was probably good for them. Having played seven games of Chess, four rounds of Exploding Snap, which they had to stop, since the explosions were keeping the others awake. Harry seemed to fall into a deep sleep straight away, his dreams were strangely peaceful. Ron, however went to bed, and found it very difficult to sleep, for though Harry seemed outwardly happy, Ron couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't. That his emotions seemed forced, and Ron, though promising himself to be there for his friend, was unsure as to how he could be of help. He did decide to talk to Hermione about it the next morning. But once he did fall into a fitful sleep, and awoke groggy and grumpy the next morning, he had forgotten all about it.

~o0o~

The next few weeks went by in a blur for Harry. A few days after he had woken up, from his seemingly last ever practical with the Staff, things were almost settling into a normal pattern.

Get up - Get dressed - Go downstairs, avoiding contact with anybody below the fourth year - Get some breakfast in the Great Hall, while being stared at by most people from the third year and under - Have a lesson, whilst being pestered with a thousand questions he couldn't answer - Have another lesson, former problem still around - Have lunch, getting stared at some more - Have another lesson - And so on, and so on. The words boredom and irritation could have taken on a new meaning in Harry's mind. If he'd really cared.

The lessons Harry was having for the Staff, had become some of his least favourite. Ron had been right. They were just like Prof. Binn's classes, and it was harder to fall asleep inconspicuously, when you're the only student. They never got any more interesting. All the teachers could do was spout theories at Harry, and not facts. More often than not, they'd end up asking Harry about the Staff.

He had been correct in his assumption that the teachers would no longer allow him near the Staff itself. Something which did irritate him greatly. Being aware of its presence, and yet not being able to use it, was like having a voice at the back of his mind that never shut up. It was a constant ache. He remembered once comparing his connection to the Staff as being like having the ghost feeling of a missing limb. Only now it felt more painful. Like he could remember the loss of the limb as well. But no-one else understood. He felt Hermione might do to some extent. But perhaps that was because she was the only person he really spoke to.

Something else had occurred to him. Dumbledore and the other teachers, they were afraid, and it was whether they were afraid for him or of him, that Harry could not tell. He did not feel that they were being at all fair. They claimed to want to train him, and help him to achieve all that he could, and yet would not allow him near the one thing that would help him achieve this goal. How was he supposed to become any good at controlling this power, if he was not allowed to practice it?

After three lessons, comprising of two hours of dull theory spouting, it had finally become clear to Dumbledore, that this wasn't helping Harry in the slightest, as he had to be prodded awake every so often. It was then that he struck upon the idea that Harry needed to be trained to be both physically and mentally capable to use the Staff, and perhaps the history lessons could be shortened accordingly.

Harry had been a little less than pleased. In the past few weeks, he'd become pretty much as fit as he had been before the summer holidays. Wasn't Quidditch training enough?

So the once boring history/theory lessons, had now become what Harry glibly described as 'P.E from hell'.

Moody and Lupin decided that the first step was to have him start running laps around the lake. It was a pretty big lake.

Sirius joined him on these runs for moral support. Every time Harry gasped and panted over the magically extended finish line, Sirius would always tell him to buck up, and try harder. After all, if an old man like himself could beat Harry, and barely break a sweat doing it, it didn't look too good, did it?

Harry did point out, that Sirius was in his animagus form when he ran with him, and as such, four legs was likely to be better than two.

They got to a point in the training, around mid-November. When the first real chill set into the stone walls of Hogwarts walls, and the first drops of snow had begun to blanket the grounds, that Moody and Lupin, decided that running was no longer enough, and that the spell/curse deflection lessons, needed to become a more regular occurrence - rather than the two lessons a week he was already having.

Harry protested.

These were clearly no longer lessons that dealt with the Staff, or how to use it. It seemed only to be extra Defence against the Dark Arts lessons. It was no wonder that he was now top of his class, even above Hermione, in this particular subject.

His time was no longer his own. He rarely got to see Sirius, in his human form anyway. Though he knew that Sirius was around. The students had become used to seeing the large black dog, called Snuffles by all, in and around Hogwarts. So much so, that they tended to let their guard down around it, and continue their conversations as normal. It was frequently by this means that the Headmaster and the other teachers, kept the students in check, with the promise -magically binding, of course- never to reveal what they knew of Harry's gift, or the presence of the Staff at Hogwarts, until they were ready to tell the wizarding community themselves. Unfortunately, this meant a lot more hard feelings between the Slytherin's -whose mail was read by Snape- and the Gryffindors.

But as of the moment, the larger wizarding community remained ignorant, of the unusual- well, slightly more - goings on at Hogwarts. As far as they were concerned, the Staff of Gaia, was still a missing magical relic- for no one , save a few sworn to secrecy, knew it had even been found.

The Daily Prophet was still running its 'The trial of Potter's Uncle' scoop. Being mentioned at least once a week.

The trial date had, thankfully, been set back, from this month, to early next year. So Harry had a little longer not to think about it, or Uncle Vernon. Though he could not stop his thoughts from occasionally turning to his Aunt Petunia. He wondered if she would be present at the trial, and if so, on whose side would she be?

Quidditch training went as well as anybody could have hoped. The minute he'd gotten onto his FireBolt, and kicked off, soaring high above the stadium, it was though he'd never left the skies. Alicia had decided that she could fit in being team Captain, around studying for her N.E.W.T's. But she promised Harry that she would begin training him for this position, from around March, so that there would be a new Captain ready for next year. Harry wasn't sure if he liked this new development. He did love to fly, and playing Quidditch, was a lot of fun. But he wasn't sure if he wanted to be the team Captain

He was happy, however, at the outcome of the Keeper tryouts. Ron had shown them a promising ability that few, including the twins, had even been aware he'd possessed. Quickly blowing away all other competition for the job, Ron had finally done something at Hogwarts that he thought, would help his parents feel some pride in him. Though secretly, Harry believed that with the speed and tactical mind Ron possessed -even if he wasn't aware that he had one- that he would make a much better Chaser, something which Harry felt he might have to see to next year. If he did become Captain.

But right now he had only one concern.

Swimming.

In the Great Lake, outside of Hogwarts. The freezing cold Great Lake out side of Hogwarts, to be exact. Harry had vehemently refused to do so. It was too big, and too cold. Lupin, however, had other ideas.

"Harry I know some of this is hard on you, but we're just trying to toughen you up a bit. A quick dip in the lake would do you the world of good."

Needless to say, Harry remained unconvinced. Until one day, around mid-December, Lupin asked him exactly why he was so against it.

It took Harry a few moments to master the strength of will, to look Remus in the eye, and then tell him.

"Because it's too public."

"I don't understand Harry. What do you mean? Your used to being in the public eye by now aren't you?"

"I know. What I meant was ... what I meant was ..."

Lupin was gazing at him intently, as Harry attempted to stutter out his response. But Moody intervened.

"Remus, leave the boy alone. Can't you see? He's shy for goodness sake!"

"Oh"

"I'M NOT A BOY!" Harry shouted back, before he realised that the words were even passing his lips.

Lupin appeared to be shocked by his outburst, though Moody's face remained carefully impassive.

"Of course not. Perhaps you are growing up Mr Potter, and we'll just have to remember that from now on, won't we Remus?"

Lupin seemed to shake himself out of whatever thoughts had momentarily taken him, in order to nod his head in an affirmative. Moody, however, continued to stare at Harry, making him feel uncomfortable. It was almost a relief to running around the lake a short while later.

He didn't always like running. Sometimes he could clear his mind, and focus on nothing but the run. One foot in front of the other, breathing in and out. But at other times, running could give him too much time to ponder on things that had happened, things that he might have done, things that might have been. And these things frustrated him greatly, though he wasn't always aware of it. If he could not clear his mind of such thoughts on theses days, then he had to fill them with something else. Schoolwork or Quidditch tactics seemed to be the most popular.

Luckily for him, today was one of those days, in which he could clear his mind, mostly.

Finishing his lap around the lake, Harry ran back towards the changing rooms that were tucked just inside the Castles courtyard. He ran back as he did every day, despite his usual near-exhaustion, in order to miss the post-lesson crush.

When he'd had finished cleaning up and getting changed, Harry decided to return to see Remus and Moody, in the small classroom nearby, that they used for their lessons. Though Moody was partially correct in his assumption about Harry's apprehensiveness surrounding swimming, he hadn't told the whole story. And finally, Harry thought that he should tell them.

They were not expecting him, and Moody could not have been paying much attention to the corridor outside the classroom with his magical eye, or Harry would never have overheard this particular conversation through the slightly ajar door.

"You can't keep pushing him like this Alastor."

"Why not Remus? I keep being told that he has the potential to become as powerful, if not more so than Voldemort, and I've certainly seen the evidence of it."

*As powerful as Voldemort? Surely they mean Dumbledore.*

"The most powerful in magic maybe, but he's been traumatised. He spent a month getting the crap kicked out of him by his Uncle, at a time in his life when he needed some support. He's fragile right now. We can't keep pushing him."

*Fragile!!*

"And why can't we keep pushing him? What do you suggest we do, the day Voldemort finally breaks down those gates to the school, hmm? You know that even with our combined power, we could only slow him down. Potter is probably our last best hope, and if he can't be made strong when that day comes, then God help us all. And the rest of those poor bloody muggles, he will rule over them like a king, when he wipes us out."

"Alastor, I know that your just trying to make him strong to protect him, but so am I. And right now, he can not handle a lot of things. He just shuts out everything that happened with his Uncle, he's been ignoring his friends. I don't think that I've seen him laugh or cry in months. He's like a machine. The only things he focuses on are his schoolwork and Quidditch. When I'm talking to him, half the time I don't feel like he's even in the room with me. I think that his friends are starting to lose patience with him."

"He still talks to that girl though, what was her name ... Granger?"

*Hermione*

"Hermione Granger. I know, she's probably the only one he comes even close to letting in."

There was a pause for a while. Harry leaned in a little closer.

"You know that he still flinches when anybody tries to touch him, right?"

"I know Remus, I know."

"And you shouldn't call him 'boy'. Sirius told me that's what ... it's what his Uncle used to call him."

"I suppose that explains why he got angry earlier."

There was a brief sound of someone shifting to sit down, and sighing as they did so. It was Remus.

"I just can't keep pushing him ... I just can't. What with You-Know-Who disappearing this last month, and the trial coming up.

You know that the muggle council have appointed some hotshot young lawyer, who's never lost a case, to his Uncle? By all reports, that man is already asking all the right questions, to poke holes in Harry's case. How am I supposed to tell Harry, that the trial might not be as clear cut as it should have been?"

"Remus my old friend. You don't have to. Sirius is his Godfather, let him handle it. He's the one who should be talking to Mr Potter about these things."

"For Gods sake Alastor! Sirius may be Harry's Godfather in name, but I care just as much for Harry. James always asked me to be a part of that responsibility. I will not let him down now."

"I am sorry Remus, I did not mean to imply that your role in Harry's life was any less important. But as you yourself pointed out, Sirius is, in name Harry's Godfather. So it is not your responsibility, as much as it should be his. That was all I meant."

"James made me promise you know. On the day he died, we met, and he made me promise, did you know that?"

There was a pause, and Harry could make out Mooody's form shaking his head, before sitting down across from Lupin.

"That morning we met up to talk about work. But when I saw him, he pulled me straight to the most private table of the Leaky Cauldron, and told me that there was something very important that he had to talk to me about. I wish that I'd paid more attention. He seemed so ... unlike himself. On edge, nervous, like he was expecting to be attacked that very minute, and all the while he seemed desperate to finish up and get back home.

He told me that ... that though he'd made Sirius Godfather by law, he considered me to be as much another father to Harry as Sirius. And wished that wizard law would have permitted a second Godfather.

He must have known ... he asked that if anything ever happened to him or Sirius, that I could be there to take care of Harry.

And I couldn't, I couldn't do the last thing James ever asked of me. Because by law those god-awful muggles were first in line to be his carers. I had no legal claim to him. I fought the courts for three years to be allowed custody, but they wouldn't even let me see him once. The Dursleys had no idea of course. Even Dumbledore would not support me in my efforts, though I understand that now.

When Dumbledore relented and finally told me of what he was doing, I dropped the case immediately, but I still wanted to be able to raise James son the way he would have wanted. But I could not. So instead I did everything I could to help Dumbledore set up the magical defences that surrounded Harry's home.

I searched for months for someone who could be a secret keeper, and I bumped into Arabella again. The war with You-Know-Who had taken a lot from her, and she was willing to take on the appearance of a harmless old woman, and spend however many years looking over Harry. You should have seen her face when she contacted me to say she'd met Harry for the first time. Said he was the spitting image of James, and that she could barely contain herself from giving him a hug and telling him everything right then and there. She was so happy every time the Dursleys dumped Harry on her, and then she'd cry on my shoulder because she couldn't tell him who she was."

*No, they can't mean ... Mrs Figg?*

"Remus, you can not blame yourself for something that happened so long ago. It was simply ... unfortunate, that Harry's relatives were ... less-than tolerant of our kind."

*Less than tolerant? Is that all!*

"I'm sorry Alastor, I know that nothing can be done about the past now, what's done is done. But I can not think of a single way to help Harry now, beyond what we've already tried. That's what is killing me.

He barely acknowledges anyone anymore. Today was the first sign I've seen for many weeks of some deeper emotion. Ever since we stopped him from using the Staff again.

I don't understand why having to swim would produce such a reaction."

"Remus, use your head man. Do you not recall where Harry spent his holidays? I've seen many bad things in my time. But the worst of it is always someone who abuses a family member, in such a way as to be able hide it from the plain sight of anyone who sees them."

"You mean his back? Oh god your right! I never even thought."

"I had hoped that something like this would not happen, if we can not get him to train properly, he'll never qualify to be an Auror."

"Alastor, he doesn't even know that this is what his training is for. I don't want him to have to worry about having to pass another bunch of exams at some point in his future."

"Very well. But I'm sure his father would want him to follow in his footsteps. Even if he never was the most conventional Auror himself. But Harry will never achieve the great things that we have always expected from him, if he is too shy to even go for a swim."

There was a sound of shuffling feet, and chairs being pushed back, and Harry numbly thought that now would be the best time to move.

As he made a sharp exit through one of the corridors to the other side of the classroom, Harry could feel his head spinning. He felt a little sick. Lost between strange feelings that were creeping at the back of his mind. Confusion, despair and complete rage. So many things had been left unsaid.

So many things. Lupin had seen his father the day he died. He'd tried to gain custody of Harry as a baby, and failed. Mrs Figg? Voldemort had disappeared, something which could definitely could not be described as a plus, when you didn't know where he'd turn up next. He was really receiving Auror training, and his father had been one. Why hadn't they told him?

And worst of all, at that current moment in Harry's mind, was the news about the trial. Someone was actually defending his Uncle, how could anyone do that? And not only not be doing it grudgingly, but doing it well enough to leave a question in the minds of Lupin and the others, as to how straight-forward the trial would be. There being one at all, was one thing that seemed to penetrate the wall Harry had put up around himself, and bring forward a feeling in his stomach that he could only describe as disgust. Did this lawyer who was defending his Uncle, truly believe that his client was innocent, or was he the muggle equivalent of a Deatheater? Did he really have to air his dirty laundry in public? And being so unprepared wasn't helping. No one, not even Dumbledore, had told Harry much about what to expect at the trial. Harry didn't exactly know much about muggle laws, or their court system, except for the few things he'd seen on t.v. He didn't know if a wizard court would be any different from a muggle one, except for taking the use of magic in to account.

So many things seemed to differ from the muggle version of normal. Would he be required to give evidence, or would he simply be the evidence? Would his friends have to be there to give evidence, or his Aunt Petunia and Dudley? Or would they simply be given the truth potion that Snape seemed so fond of?

Harry felt some frustration forming in the back of his mind, that no-one would tell him anything, beyond the ever-changing start date of the trial.

But perhaps that was not the sole reason that Harry felt only anger at that moment. Lupin and Moody had sat there discussing Harry to a point where he almost felt violated at how perceptive they had been. And though every emotion Harry felt in the past few weeks seemed to a muted version of what he was capable of, the few that did escape the corner of his mind, and affect his conscious thought -such as it was- were only feelings of anger, and deep sadness, regret and a few other negative emotions.

Remus and Moody had said frequently that Harry was basically bottling up his emotions, and not letting them out to anyone, besides Hermione, to a small degree.

But what else was he supposed to do?

Was he supposed to give someone every graphic detail of what happened to him? Tell how he could sleep at night, but that most of his dreams were haunted by these events, or the incredibly sad, but beautiful woman, with the strange shaped ears?

But then something else worked itself through the cloud around Harry's mind. He was angry, but not at himself, or his Uncle. He was angry at them. At Lupin, Sirius, Dumbledore, and just about everyone else who was a parent figure to him in the wizarding world. They should have noticed, shouldn't they? They should have realised something was wrong, and come and got him before things had gotten really bad. He hadn't been able to write to them, and yet they never came to see why. He'd spent just over a month at the Dursleys, and the only good thing that had happened to him, was that his Aunt now cared about him.

The anger that was twisting his thoughts, finally exploded within him, as the first real feeling he'd had in months. A burning anger, darker than that of the black nights that hung over the Forbidden forest, clawed at him.

How could they? How dare they! How could they be saying that he was their last best hope? How could they put this on him, and yet complain endlessly of his weaknesses? They thought him frail, and acted as though he would break down any moment. Moody had correctly guessed the reason for Harry's shyness, but he had wanted to be able to say it himself. They made it sound as though Harry was barely able to dress himself anymore.

It was probably then, that Harry made the decision to go and swim in the Great Lake. To prove that he was capable of something. After all if Victor Krum could manage a swim in the lake, so could he.

A short while had passed between Harry's aimless wandering around the school corridors, and his return to the changing rooms, to get the few things he needed for his afternoon swim. As he was leaving the school again, he passed many students who were on their way to dinner.

"Hey Harry, where are you going, it's time for some grub?"

Ron's voice filtered through above the chatter. Harry didn't look back.

"For a swim." He called back, not really caring if he'd heard him or not.

The air had a bitter chill to it when Harry got outside. The sun had begun to sink more rapidly into the west. But still gave enough light, to make it an otherwise pleasant evening.

When he arrived by the lake, he changed quickly, and moved towards the waters edge. The water was very black, like that of the hard obsidian stone. Dark but polished. The still light blue sky was reflected on each the ripples of water as it lapped at Harry's feet. There was no sense of depth to it. It was as black at the surface, as it would be at the very bottom of the lake. Harry stared at it for some time, the water's colour reflecting more than just his image.

He was not sure how long he'd stared at it. But once he became aware of the sound of footfalls, no to far behind him, and the sound of someone breathing in quickly, in a gasp, now seemed as good a time as any, to go in.

The water certainly looked more inviting, as he waded in. And at first as he was swimming, he didn't notice just how cold it was. In fact, just how icily painful it was. What he was dimly aware of, was whoever had been behind him, was now faintly calling out his name. That and asking him other things, like to come back. And then that voice seemed to be joined by another. But Harry was focused on only one thing.

He carried on swimming. Ignoring the voices, but finally the cold started to penetrate his awareness. The icy water was not freezing him, at least not at first, right now, he felt like he was slowly burning, hotter, and hotter. He felt like he was on fire, but desperately tried to ignore how unsafe any of it felt, not just the temperature.

When he finally lifted his head out of the water long enough to anything other than breathe, and open his eyes, he was surprised to see that he'd already reached the centre of the lake, which was not called the Great Lake for nothing.

He swam again for a short while, his legs and arms were beginning to tire quickly, his left leg in particular, was beginning to feel like a dead weight.

That was before, a searing hot pain ripped through it.

Something sharp and painful seemed to have clamped itself around a part of his leg, just below the kneecap. Whilst miniature forks seemed to be ripping at the rest of it.

He stopped and yelped in both surprise and pain, any attempts he had been making to ignore his own tiredness, and the cold of the lake, had been completely deflated. They were now his solitary awareness, as well as the burning pain in one leg, and the sensation of a cloud of liquid warmth passing over the other. He grimly realised that this was his own blood, mixing with the water of the lake. He attempted to shift his leg, to see what was causing him pain, and assess the damage, but the lake betrayed him in its inky blackness. He could see nothing.

He looked to the shoreline, and from the side he'd just come from, several people-shaped dots moved about. Three had separated from the rest, and appeared to be running around the lake, in an effort to either meet him on the other side, or simply get closer. One of the figures was larger than the others, suggesting that they were a fully-grown adult. And quite a bit further ahead of this figure, was that of a rather large dog, running at full speed. It would have made for an otherwise comical scene. Like a dog getting away from its owners at a day in the park. Only this wasn't a park, and this dog was actually Harry's guardian, probably terrified, and desperate to know why he'd stopped for so long in the middle of a very cold, very deep lake.

A moment passed in which the burning pain in his leg became more discernable. He was able to identify it, not as one clump of pain, but as several smaller dots of pain, forming semi-circles, one on either side of his leg. In other words, teeth. Teeth with a vice-like grip on his leg. Not only was the owner of these teeth, biting him, but apparently saw fit to scratch him for all it was worth, with tiny fork-like hands.

Harry was, putting it mildly, a bit miffed. Something had seen fit to make a meal of him, but it was decidedly too small to do anything other than bite, hold on for dear life, and cause some severe pain.

Balancing himself on his back in the water, Harry slowly lifted his leg up towards the surface.

He was greeted with the sight of the ugliest little water-demon, Grindylow, he'd ever seen. It seemed to panic as it's skin made contact with air above the surface, and bit in deeper.

Harry cried out briefly in pain. Stupidly, in a brief moment of panic, he tried to shake it loose. Only succeeding in having the Grindylow clamp its teeth down even further, and digging its claws down into his flesh like small hooks.

It was then that the water demon began emitting small, but shrill whistling sounds, irritating as it practically pierced Harry's eardrums. It sounded like someone who had slightly too much saliva in their mouths, attempting to whistle with two fingers.

Harry thought he could hear a faint echo through the water. Until it became much louder.

It was when the small air bubbles, at various spots around him, began to break the surface, around twenty of them, that Harry realised it was no echo.

It was the reply call of twenty other Grindylow, all coming to the aid of their fellow demon, and to enjoy dinner.

*Not good*

Was about all his tired mind could muster. He could hear people calling his name now, from on the banks of the lake, but he didn't think that anyone would be able to get to him in time. What were the chances that anyone had brought their brooms with them anyway?

After months of feeling very little in the way of any kind of emotion, other than aching numbness, in which anything he did feel, seemed to be only the barest memory of what it should be like. It occurred to Harry, as the Grindylows advanced, that he really, really did not want to die. Not yet. He had a lot more to live for than most people. He couldn't die, not today, at least not today. Being eaten alive would also wouldn't be the most pleasant way to go.

He could have kicked himself. He hadn't even thought to bring his wand with him. It still lay, folded amongst his robes, on the other side of the lake.

Just as the Grindylow were beginning to get rather too close for comfort, Harry did the only thing he could think of. He mustered up the nastiest glare he could, summoned from many years of watching Snape, who had perfected the art. And uttered a particularly foul muggle curse, something Uncle Vernon had managed to tutor him well in.

All of the Grindylows suddenly jerked backwards, their heads making similar jerky movements about them. They began emitting ear-piercing screams, moving their bodies all around, as if looking for something.

The Grindylow attached to Harry's leg, if possible, bit in even harder.

*Wow, didn't know a muggle curse was that bad.*

Harry's mind said fuzzily. Blood loss was rapidly becoming an issue.

Another shrill cry caught his attention, because it wasn't that of a Grindylow, but that of a Merperson. And a second cry did come from a Grindylow, as it was impaled on a surfacing Merpersons Trident.

Just as the blackness of an oxygen and blood deprived brain, began to creep over him, Harry saw the glint of metal against cold-grey skins. The evening sun, highlighted the tridents, but it was a strangely lifeless white.

More noises, but this time one that sounded like speech, or some form of command. Something or someone, seemed to be telling him to stop struggling, and to relax. At once, clammy, grainy feeling arms wrapped themselves around Harry's chest. Almost at once, Harry felt at peace with the request, and obeyed, letting himself sink backwards against those arms.

There was a pinch on his leg, and a loud deafening scream, something was prying the Grindylow away from his leg, and the water-demon was not pleased about it.

Pain from the wound suddenly being opened to the lake water around it, shocked Harry back from his daze.

There were four Merpeople in front of him, all holding Tridents, some with Grindylows still attached.

One of them swam closer and from under the water, lifted Harry's leg to the surface. Whilst another came forward, and began wrapping a green seaweed-like bandage around it. All at once Harry's leg began to tingle, as the life seemed to twitch back into it.

When they were done, they backed off, and formed a protective circle around him. The Merperson behind him, tugged him lightly. Startled at how much better his leg suddenly felt, Harry got the hint, and turned onto his front, gently swimming forward. The Merperson behind him, helped to propel him along, with powerful kicks of their tail. The others stayed surrounding him, occasionally, diving beneath the water, and re-emerging moments later with another Grindylow, or Grindylow parts, stuck to their Tridents.

Occasionally, he could hear them calling to one another, pointing at darker shapes beneath the water, which sometimes were water-demons, and they paid for straying too close.

Harry hadn't realised just how far out he'd been, but it took almost five minutes of steady swimming to reach the side of the lake. At which point he felt two sets of strong, human arms pulling him up out of the water.

"Harry, what the hell did you think you were doing?You could have been killed!" Sirius's voice rang out clearly through his water-logged ears

He suddenly felt blinded, as the day-light seemed to return. He recalled that it hadn't been that late when he'd set out, but it was as if, the closer he'd gotten to the centre of the lake, the darker it had gotten. All light seemed to have been swallowed up and blocked out. And though the light was now rapidly fading, as the sun sunk into the hills of the Forbidden Forest, it felt like a bright daybreak to him. He shivered, not only from the cold, but from the sudden feeling of being wide awake. As if he'd not truly felt this way for a very long time.

A hundred feelings he had not felt for some time, poured over him. And he felt all that he was capable of. Anger, sadness, fear. Joy, love, passion. Jealousy, and compassion. Everything that he'd kept bottled up for so long, erupted, and he truly felt each and every one of them.

He regained control so quickly that no one noticed him do anything but shiver from the cold. Except for Hermione. Harry looked back at the water, to see Dumbledore conversing in Mermish to the same ferocious looking Chieftainess, that he'd seen during the second task of the Triwizard tournament. He realised that it was her who'd helped him to swim back to dry land, somewhere that Harry intended to stay for the foreseeable future.

He dropped to his knees on the ground, and spat up some of the freezing cold lake water, that had taken up an unwelcome residence in his lungs.

Lupin removed his outer cloak, and wrapped it around Harry, as Sirius began gently rubbing his back.

"Why did you do something so stupid Harry? What are you trying to prove?" he said softly.

The sound of Lupin clearing his throat could be heard.

"Actually, that might be down to me and Alastor, Sirius."

"What do you mean?"

"We felt it was time he stepped up his training."

"And since when does his training include letting him go swimming unsupervised, in one of the most dangerous lakes in this country, and not doing anything to protect him from almost getting eaten?!"

"Now, now gentlemen. What happened here was unfortunate, but not entirely unexpected." Dumbledore interrupted.

Harry looked back to see the Merpeople submerging, he caught the eye of the Chieftainess, long enough to mouth the words 'thank you', and see her nod her head in acknowledgement.

"Albus, you're saying that this was expected?" Lupin asked, clearly shocked.

"Well not that Harry would go off on his own, something for which we will need an explanation later. But the attack was not unexpected. Voldemorts powers are growing. Distance is having less meaning. And some beings are easier to bend to his will than others, especially if they are already pre-disposed to causing chaos."

"Are you saying that You-Know-Who was behind this?" Ron's voice echoed sentiments from the rest of the group.

"I believe so. But rest assured young Mr Weasley. Myself, the school staff, the Merpeople, and some of the other magical creatures of this lake, shall be increasing the number of protective charms around it, and around the school. I admit, I had not the outlook to foresee that Harry would be spending enough time here, for Lord Voldemort to attempt something."

"I think that there might be more to it Albus."

The headmaster gave a slightly quizzical look to Moody, something that seemed oddly out-of-place for the powerful wizard. And then he prompted Moody to continue.

"I believe that the Dark Lord may be testing the waters so to speak."

"You mean, you think that he's not just after Harry?" Lupin queried.

"I believe so. I think that he may be testing us. Seeing where our weaknesses lie. And using the fact that we've always assumed that he would go after Harry first, to his advantage."

"Do you think he's going to try and take the school?" Hermione asked nervously.

Moody nodded solemnly.

"But he can't." she exclaimed.

"Not as long as Professor Dumbledore is here."

"Why thank you Miss Granger. But I think that the compliment is less well deserved now. I'm ... I'm getting old."

At that no one knew what to say. Harry spat up some more lake water, and unfortunately drew the attention back to himself.

"Well Mr Potter, I don't think that Poppy will be very happy to see you again."

Sirius and Lupin helped Harry to his feet, and he pulled Lupin's worn old cloak, tighter about him. They began walking back to the school, and once in sight of it, Sirius returned to his animagus form.

Harry felt intense relief that there were no other students around, when they arrived. So the group was able to move undisturbed, to the hospital wing.

~o0o~

"You again!"

Were the first words Harry heard upon his entrance. He felt a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips, at the exasperated look on Madam Pomfrey's face.

Lupin helped Harry on to the bed, on which Harry opened his cloak just enough to allow Madam Pomfrey to attend his wounded leg. Madam Pomfrey looked pleasantly surprised when she saw the makeshift seaweed bandage around it.

"Ah, Mermish medicine, very good. Very good, as long as it's used quickly. You should be fully healed within a week."

"Will I have another scar?"

Harry didn't want to think that he was being vain, or others to think it, so he'd kept his voice low, as he directed the question at Madam Pomfrey. As he self-consciously tugged his cloak tighter around himself, the nurses face softened visibly for a moment.

"I shouldn't think so dear. If so, it will be barely noticeable. Mermish medicine is very good for deep flesh wounds. They need it, what with all those spears, and trident things, and what not.

Now I think that all I need to do, is get you warmed up, fed and rested, and you can leave tomorrow morning in time for lessons."

Madam Pomfrey moved off to get blankets from a nearby store cupboard, but called over her shoulder.

"And I don't expect to see you back in here again for a very long time. In fact, if I see you again before your seventh year, I may have to kill you, rather than save you. And save my own sanity, if I have one more student breaking in to bring you ..."

Her voice trailed off, as she left the room.

"Wow, looks like I got off lightly."

Harry couldn't help it. He smiled. An act that seemed almost infectious, not that Madam Pomfrey need be concerned. Smiles lit up the faces of everyone in the room. Even Justina Nottom, a third year who'd managed to curse her own lips off two days ago, and was currently being a great puzzle for the school nurse - who frequently claimed that they couldn't think up a curse, other than the killing curse, that she couldn't find a cure for.

Ron looked slightly puzzled a moment later.

"What?"

"It's just ... well, you look happy. And well ... you haven't really looked anything for the past few months."

Smiles fell, Hermione looked ready to kill Ron, and Sirius growled at him.

"Hey Snuffles, it's alright. I just ... I think that I might've had a wake up call earlier. If you know what I mean. I felt numb for so long, I guess it took something that actually made me go numb, to realise that I could feel again ... I think, I'm not sure if I'm making any sense."

"I think that your making perfect sense Harry." Lupin said quietly.

And then he moved forward, and did something that for Harry, forever secured him in his mind, as being a part of his small family. Remus took Harry's head in his hands, and pulled it forward slightly, and lightly kissed the top of Harry's forehead, close to his scar. He let go, and turned around, and with one look, got the others to leave.

He turned back to face Harry when they'd gone.

"Get some rest Harry, we'll talk in the morning."

"Thank you. Professor?"

"Yes Harry?"

"I know what you did for me. What you tried to do for me, as a baby, when you tried to get me then. I wanted to thank you."

Lupin looked momentarily shocked. But he recovered once the words 'thank you' reached his consciousness.

"Your welcome. And Harry?" he said as he walked towards the double doors that exited the hospital wing.

"Yes?"

"Call me Remus."

~o0o~

Harry was not surprised to be summoned to Dumbledore's office the next day. A letter came from Lupin telling him to meet them -himself, Dumbledore, and Snuffles- in the headmaster's office, straight after lunch. The password was 'Jelly Fluberworms'. And he was excused from the first half of Snape's class for this -much to the dour potions teachers consternation.

Harry couldn't hide a slight limp as he walked with Ron into the Great Hall, but much to his relief, he found that few people even gave him a second glance.

"Does anyone know about what happened last night?" he whispered quietly enough for only Ron and Hermione to hear.

"No I don't think so mate. Anybody who's asked, we've just told them that you sprained your ankle when you were running. Since most people know that your being made to do that now. I did tell Fred and George though, I hope you don't mind."

"That's alright Ron, I just didn't fancy listening to Malfoy, mouthing off. Imagine the field day he'd have, if he found out that I almost let myself get eaten by a Grindylow!"

They settled down to a very nice fry-up breakfast -though Harry wasn't really supposed to be eating that kind of food. Hermione commiserated -Lavender had all the girls in her dorm room on a kind of healthy living diet, to help them (Lavender) lose weight. Ron said, a shade quicker than Harry to the mark, that Hermione was already perfect as she was.

If the three friends had not been enjoying each others company so much, they might have noticed that most of the hall was making the odd whispers about them. But for once, it wasn't about the Staff of Gaia, or which one of the boys Hermione would eventually pick, if either -Justin Finch-Fletchley had £5 running on Hermione picking Draco. Which, as most people pointed out, was about as likely as her picking Nearly Headless Nick. For once the comments were happy whispers, pointing out that whatever spark that kept the dynamic between the three, recently no more than a flickering ember of what it once was, had returned in full-force.

Most agreed, that it was the sudden change in Harry that had prompted this happy change. And a few, but not many, surmised that more had happened last night, than Harry simply spraining his ankle.

When the morning had passed, and lunch had gone by, Harry waved a cheery goodbye to his two friends, and bade them good luck -as Snape was likely to take out his bad mood over Harry's absence, on the both of them- and went straight to the corridor that contained the gargoyle that blocked the entrance to Dumbledore's office.

"Jelly Fluberworms."

The gargoyle did not move.

Great, they gave me the wrong password

"Erm ... Droobles Best Blowing Gum? Fizzing Whizbee's? Sugar Quill? Cockroach Cluster? Oh no, he's already had that one, hasn't he? Err ..."

"Actually it's Sherbet Snitch." Said Lupin, moving up the corridor behind him. Snuffles trailed a little behind him.

The gargoyle moved.

"Sorry, I gave you the old password."

Dumbledore's office had changed little since Harry's last visit. It seemed larger somehow, as if it had been extended for an expected number, or a larger number of people being inside it, in the coming months.

There was another window -Harry was quite sure that it was a smaller version of the charm on the ceiling of the Great Hall- so the early afternoon's sunlight spilled into the room. But the atmosphere was a little heavier, one that seemed to permeate Harry's every pore. It was an important place now.

A tingling sensation in his solar plexus, caught Harry like the sight of an old friend from long ago. He was pretty sure that behind the perch that contained a very healthy-looking Fawkes, was a secret alcove containing the Staff. He also got the feeling, that if he thought he needed the Staff enough, it would come to him, protective wall and charms, or no.

Fawkes flew over from his perch almost the moment Harry entered the room, and settled on Harry's arm -once he'd stretched it out to accommodate the Phoenix.

"Hello Fawkes. How've you been?"

Fawkes gave Harry a look that almost seemed to say 'well, better than you.', before the phoenix clearly indulged itself like a kitten as Harry stroked it.

"Harry welcome. Please sit down. Would any of you care for a chocolate Frog, or a Fizzing Whizzbee? Please take a Cockroach Cluster while your at it."

Happily fed on chocolate, and sweets that could make you levitate for a few moments, Dumbledore had come straight out and asked Harry why he had gone to the lake alone, if he'd been so against the idea of swimming in the first place.

"Well, I suppose I was kind of angry at the time."

"Angry?"

"Yes, well ..." he turned to Lupin.

"I didn't mean to, but I heard you and Moody talking. And I got angry."

"Oh God Harry, you were never meant to hear those things!"

"No. No, it's alright Remus. Maybe it's better that I did hear them. I mean, now I know that you tried to adopt me, and I know that Mrs Figg is a witch."

"You know Harry, I really thought that you were a smart kid. How did you not figure that one out sooner is beyond me." Sirius said, smiling.

Harry smiled back, Sirius was right, now that he thought about it, it was pretty obvious.

"Thanks a lot! But what I'm really trying to say is, I was angry at first, you've kept a lot from me."

Lupin and Sirius looked momentarily downcast.

"No one told me about Voldemort disappearing. No one told me that I'm getting Auror training. No one would tell me anything about the trial. You all treated me like I was going to snap at any moment.

But you were right, I think. I was angry that you didn't think that I could take care of myself, even though you were clearly right. I was being stubborn, so I decided to ... to ..."

"To prove to us that you could?" Dumbledore finished. Harry only nodded.

"But I realise now, I know what was happening when the Grindylow kept trying to pull me under, I realised how much I didn't want to die. It was like I woke up, and I started to feel things again. But before, I was afraid. Afraid that to feel one thing about something or something, would mean I'd have to feel something about everything and everyone, and I wouldn't have time to be myself anymore. Does that make any sense?"

"Yeah Harry, it does." Sirius said sadly.

"Harry do you think that you could do the headmaster, Remus and I, a favour?"

Harry nodded a little uncertainly.

"Don't' hide what your feeling from us, not again. We understand that there are certain things you will tell us about in your own time, and we respect that. But don't let these feelings get on top of you. Always try to talk to one of us. Anyone for that matter, and we'll try to be more open with you in the future."

"Thank you."

"So ... is there anything that you want to tell us about right now, how your feeling?"

"Well ... about the trial ..."

~o0o~

Harry never did make it to the end of potions, but he did learn a lot about the joint muggle-wizard legal system -more than enough to give him some hope for a just verdict. He also learnt that Uncle Vernon had only recently been restored to his human form. A pity, in Harry's opinion, he'd been a much more attractive Dung Beetle.

He also learnt that the trial would be held around two months later, at the end of March. And that the trial date, and its location was continuously changed to keep the media away from the event.

All in all though, these next few months passed by very happily. Harry had regained his strength, and was actually now the average weight for a boy of his age and height, though with the added bonus of some killer leg muscles -those Auror lessons were going quite well.

The Staff itself was still kept safely locked away, brought out only once every two weeks. And within those few hours each fortnight, it was found that Harry now had the strength of will to be around the Staff without setting it off.

Strangely, nothing was ever said to Harry of the mysterious person coming to help him in his studies, nor was anything made of what this person had sent Harry. For it still lay in it's purple velvet bag at the bottom of Harry's trunk, forgotten, for now.

But the time would come when Harry would ask himself how he could have forgotten something that would have turned out to have such importance.

But then, as Hermione would always remind him, he'd just had ... other things on his mind.

~o0o~

The End!!!!!!

Finally, I've finished! Now to all, if you've managed to stay with me, go get some sleep, and don't drink anymore caffiene!

I hope to have the next part up within a few months. "Harry Potter and the Trial of Memories", will be chapter 3, and if anything gets in the way of my trying to finish it, I'll let you know.

Once again, if I get more than a few reviews that request smaller chapters at a more frequent rate, I will consider it, but at the moment, the preferrence seems to be for the fic, the way it is.

Okay, I'll stop rambling now. Review if you liked it, or want to throw in your ideas -though I've got a whole book full of `em. See you in a few months. I hope. Chocchip.

-->