Unofficial Portkey Archive

Disclaimer: I do not own 'Harry Potter,' I'm not that blind to not recognize when pairings are forced… I don't own the lyric bits, either.

A/N: Wow! I didn't think I gave the impression that if I didn't like DH I'd stop writing this! I don't care what happens, I will never abandon this fic. I'm terribly sorry if I led any of you to believe I'd just toss this story… it's an AU fic, anyway! I took a little time off to re-think how the rest of this story is going to go… believe it or not, a lot of what came to pass in DH is what I had planned here… I certainly don't want to be perceived as ripping off canon, so I'm going to have to change a few bits that I had planned… you'll see a little of what I mean in this chapter with the scene with Ron. This is a nice, beefy chapter, (almost 7000 words,) so this should keep you sated for a little while. ^_^ Just sit back, relax, and enjoy!

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Chapter 45: The Warlock's Ritual

Our friends ask all about you
I say you're doing fine,
and I expect to hear from you almost anytime,
but they all know I'm crying…
I can't sleep at night.
They all know I'm dying down deep inside

I'm sorry if I took some things for granted,
I'm sorry for the chains I put on you…
but more than anything else,
I'm sorry for myself…
for living without you.

Excerpt from the song, I'm Sorry, by John Denver.

-----~-----

The Great Hall of Hogwarts was filled to capacity with people, and unlike during the school year, most of the people were not students, but refugees. Throughout the hall, subdued conversations echoed around the large room, occasionally being punctuated by the cry of a baby or a random loud cough. As the Death Eater attacks on muggle-born families increased, those families sought refuge within the ancient walls of the old school. Even with the rumored threat of the advancing giants, it was still a much safer place than their homes. There weren't only muggle-born families, but also many half-bloods and purebloods who were known sympathizers with the wizarding world's underclass.

Ron was sitting in the Great Hall in front of a plethora of dishes filled with the various staples that the industrious house elves were famous for. The elves obviously knew who was sitting at that particular spot at the Gryffindor table, for the stacks of food on the golden platters were spilling over onto the table even as they appeared from the kitchen below. Ron, however, had yet to place any food onto his plate. He was much too busy staring at the two frightened-looking muggles who were seated at the head table that was normally reserved for the professors.

Luna, who was sitting next to him, nudged him with her elbow, ever so briefly distracting him from his self-appointed mission to send as many hateful glares towards the two muggles as humanly possible.

"They should be rotting in Azkaban, not sitting up there enjoying a feast…" muttered Ron as he continued to send menacing glares towards Petunia and Dudley.

"You shouldn't be so hard on them, Ronald," said Luna as she tried to distract him again, "They've been through a very bad time, and they are Harry's relatives, after all…"

"Hmmph, some relatives they are!" grumbled Ron, "They should have gone through a worse time, if you ask me. Serves 'em right after what they did to Harry, and I'm not just talkin' about them stealing all of Harry's money… they…"

"What?" exclaimed Luna in surprise as Ron fruitlessly tried to get her to lower her voice. Immediately, silence reigned throughout the hall. Her outburst drew the attention of nearly everyone, but she didn't seem to notice as she continued to speak in a raised voice, "What do you mean, they stole Harry's money?"

Since he wasn't present when Hermione informed Harry of his parent's vault and the riches it contained, Ron looked nervously around at all of the curious faces, trying to think of a way to cover for Luna's outburst. The last thing he wanted was for the general populace to know about Harry's financial situation. He noticed that the two particular muggles that he had been glaring at were also paying close attention, but was rather surprised by the shocked expression on Harry's aunt's face.

"Oh, she's talking about her… umm… uncle, Harry Lovegood…" said Ron, addressing his general surroundings, "he was mugged in Knockturn Alley last month…"

"No, there is no Harry Lovegood, I'm talking about Harry Potter, and you said that they stole all of his money!" said Luna as she pointed towards Petunia and Dudley, who were staring back at the odd girl with dumbfounded expressions.

Ron placed his elbows on the table and covered his face with his hands. As he expected, he was assaulted with a barrage of questions from every direction. Not wanting to face the fact that he let Harry's financial problem slip, he kept his hands over his reddening face until he heard a strangely anxious voice that he hadn't heard in years speak from directly behind him.

"What happened to my nephew's money?"

Ron dropped his hands and turned around. Petunia Dursley was standing there amidst a crowd of others who were asking much the same question. Since the kneazle was already out of the hat, he figured he couldn't do much more damage by telling the muggle exactly how he felt.

Ron couldn't hide the malevolence in his voice when he answered Petunia, "You know bloody well what happened to his money! You people wiped his Gringotts vault clean, leaving him practically knutless! What kind of people are you to steal from your own nephew, leaving him to have to beg for food? I knew you were a bunch of arrogant gits, but I'd never guess you'd up and bugger off on Harry after robbing him blind! Now you had best get away from me, 'cause I don't know how much longer I can keep myself from hexing your bristols into bleedin' nifflers!"

The hall went deathly silent. Petunia had a hand over her mouth, with tears leaking from her eyes that were wide with shock. She looked around at the threatening faces surrounding her, and then took a few steps backward, saying, "No… Vernon said he won a sweepstakes! He said he got a promotion and a bonus at his work! He would never … he couldn't…"

Deep down, Petunia had suspected that Vernon wasn't being quite honest about how he got that huge windfall of money, but the new house, car, furniture, and all the other things that were bought put that thought firmly in a dark corner of her mind. She knew that something was up when she caught Vernon's lie about Harry having to stay at the school, and about him staying with the family of the boy sitting before her, but she assumed that Harry's change of living arrangements was the extent of his duplicity. She was just as surprised as everyone else around her by the revelation about Harry's finances.

"How do you know?" she asked of Ron, "How could someone get money out of a vault?"

Ron's menacing glare returned in full force, "Alright… I'll humor you. When Gringotts sent an owl with Harry's financial statement to his 'legal guardians,' namely you wankers, to inform them of his impending coming of age, the owl was sent back with a demand to have all his wizard gold converted into muggle pounds and delivered to you. When Harry opened his vault after he got out of the hospital, it was empty."

Ron raised his voice even louder as his face became even redder, "I hope you bloody berks are right proud of yourselves… tell me, how did it feel starving him all those years when you were actually getting paid out of his parents' vault to feed him? What was it like throwing old, ratty clothes at him to wear when you were getting paid to clothe him? I'd imagine you were bloody well chuffed with yourselves keeping him locked in a small cupboard, knowing that he was the one who owned the bloody house and allowed you live there rent free! Hell, he was even paying for the utilities! I find it hard to believe that you'd force a little kid… your own nephew, nonetheless… to sleep in a stinkin' storage cupboard in his own bleedin' house! Well, I'm just happy that the house you bought with all the money you stole from him was destroyed… it couldn't have happened to a nicer lot than you bunch of snakes!"

"I… I didn't know!" exclaimed Petunia through the hand that was still covering her mouth, "I had no idea! Vernon said he sold the house on Privet Drive! He told me that all the bills went directly to our bank and they were automatically paid from our account!"

The wheels started turning in Petunia's head. If all of this was true, then what happened to all of the money that she thought was being spent on the mortgage, on the food, clothes and utilities? Where did all of that money go? Was he squirreling away money for retirement without her knowing? A light suddenly turned on in her head. Marge Dursley had never been married, nor had she ever held a job, besides breeding her pack of mangy dogs… how could she afford to live in such a large, fine house and take all of those expensive vacations by just raising bulldogs? Insane thoughts then started running through her frazzled mind… Has Vernon been supporting two households all along? Why would he feel obligated to support his sister and not tell his own wife? Is Marge really his sister?

"VERNON!" screeched Petunia furiously, startling those around her into drawing their wands.

McGonagall quickly stepped down from the head table and ushered the terrified Dudley and the nearly hysterical Petunia from the Great Hall before the crowd had a chance to hex them, not that she could blame anyone who tried.

"You have to believe me!" screamed Petunia desperately as McGonagall dragged her from the hall, "I never knew! Please, tell him! I never knew!"

Ron sent one final glare at the back of the retreating muggles and muttered to Luna, "Sure, I'll tell 'im… just as soon as I can find him. I sent Pig off a few days ago, but haven't got a reply yet… I just hope they're okay."

-----~-----

When the three returned to the beach house, Harry set Kotone down and watched as Hermione immediately rushed off towards the bathroom. Harry couldn't help but to stare at her retreating backside, only tearing his eyes away when she hastily closed the bathroom door. So lost in his recollection of that morning's activity, he didn't even notice that Kotone had made a bee line to the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace and was already fast asleep. He thought about moving her to the transfigured bed in the nursery again, but knew that she wouldn't remain there for long.

Harry silently made his way to the sofa and watched his new daughter as she slept. He watched the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, the untroubled look of her closed eyes above the porcelain mask. He noticed that her kimono-robe was slightly opened, revealing the top part of her chest just below the edge of her mask. His eyes hardened as he could just make out the jagged pinkish scars that crisscrossed her pale skin as well as the blotchy patches of healed-over burns. Anger at all of the faceless people who had tormented her throughout her life simmered in that familiar pit in his stomach. The girl was so sweet, so kind… and yet still somewhat mysterious. She kept speaking of her mission… her responsibility… and the 'instructions' that she was receiving in her dreams. He had dismissed the idea that she was the one protecting him, as she had stated when showing him the visions that were supposedly his own, or as she described them, the memories of the bit of Voldemort's soul jumbled with his own.

He couldn't deny that what she had shown him wasn't factual… the revelation of finding Ravenclaw's wand in Ollivander's shop was evidence enough. He still needed a way to find out for sure if there was truly a horcrux… Hufflepuff's cup… sitting in the Mervillage at the bottom of the Black Lake.

As he recalled the visions that she had shown him, he remembered the very first vision where she had left her body and 'flown' to him in the graveyard. He suddenly wondered if he could do the same thing. He had left his body once before, but that was just to combine with Hermione's soul to repair the bond. It then occurred to him as to exactly what he was doing when he turned seventeen. After a brief moment where his mind wandered through the memory of what he and Hermione had done that morning, he roughly shook those straying thoughts from his mind.

His first instinct was to Apparate to the shore of the lake on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, but then figured that if he could do it from there, then he could just as easily do it from here. What safer place was there than to leave his body than there with Kotone and Hermione? He glanced to the bathroom door and heard the spray of the shower start.

Again, his mind wandered to the image of Hermione standing under the streaming water… the soapy lather cascading down her naked…

Again, he shook those thoughts from his head. He could already feel the stirring in his pants, and he was intent on not letting his hormones get out of control again. He was still rather unsure of how Hermione felt about the sex they had that morning… neither had brought it up at all, but then again, they haven't had much opportunity to be alone where they could discuss it.

Harry leaned back into the cushions, getting himself into a position that was both comfortable and stable. He closed his eyes and saw the septagram appear. The odd sensation of time slowing around him washed over his being, and he suddenly became aware of everything around him, even though his eyes were still shut. He felt his spirit rise from his body. He looked down at himself sitting motionless on the sofa with Kotone still sleeping at his feet.

'Alright, then…' he thought to himself as he willed himself into motion, concentrating on the Black Lake. Instantly, his surroundings disappeared into a blur. All that he was aware of was an indistinct, greenish-blue carpet beneath him and the oddly moving stars above. He passed through a brief flash of fogginess, which, unknown to him, was a rather large Atlantic storm. Suddenly, the oddly blurred carpet of ocean turned into a maelstrom of tracing lights and indistinct colors.

Gradually, his surroundings began morphing into eerie shapes and textures as they rushed past. He felt himself slowing down to the point where he could begin to resolve the landscape around him. Forest… farmland… a brief glimpse of a river… more trees… mountains…

He suddenly found himself hovering over the Black Lake. He could see the sparse lights coming from a few of the windows in the nearly empty Hogwarts Castle. At the same time, he could also see the lights from the various windows in the shops and homes of the village of Hogsmeade on the opposite shore. It was an odd sensation, being able to see in all directions at once.

Harry focused on the distant, white tomb that was settled by the lakeshore near the castle. Even from that distance and in the dark of the night, he could just make out the writhing form of Voldemort's soul fragment that was attached to Dumbledore's body encased within the tomb. Again, Hermione was right.

He looked down into the water and instinctively attempted to draw a breath in preparation for the dive, but then immediately felt foolish as he realized that, as a disembodied soul, no breath was needed, nor was it even possible.

It felt strange, effortlessly gliding through the water and feeling no resistance at all. He could clearly see all around him… the small groups of fish that seemed to be flying through air… the eerily moving reeds, amongst which the Grindylows lurked… and the tribe of Merpeople gliding amongst the odd buildings that surrounded the village's center where the strange monument sat. Even from a distance, he could make out its features amongst the wigeon grass and slime that partially obscured its mass.

None of the meandering denizens of the village was aware of his presence as his soul approached the main square. As his spirit neared, he was sure that the structure was indeed an ancient fountain. How a fountain came to be at the bottom of a lake, he had no idea… perhaps a remnant of an ancient Roman outpost, or a druidic temple site once resided in this location before the lake appeared from some natural geologic shift… he had no way of knowing.

Upon the brief inspection of the uppermost tier, he caught a glimpse of shiny, golden metal embossed with the distinctive symbol of the badger. He recognized it from the pensieve memory that Dumbledore had shown him. There in the center of the uppermost tier sat Hufflepuff's cup, just as he had seen it in the vision that Kotone had shown him. He also saw the two serpentine eyes, glowing like hot embers, peeking out from above the rim of the cup and seemingly watching his every move.

'Gotcha,' he thought to himself.

He figured that since he was in the area, generally speaking, he should also look in on Ollivander's shop for a cursory inspection of the wand. Again, his surroundings blurred as he traveled southward and found himself hovering above Diagon Alley a moment later. What he then saw gave him good reason to pause.

All of the shops that had previously been boarded up were now wide open and in shambles. A pall of smoke hung in the air like a thick, dark fog. Most of the storefronts looked to have been blasted in, and the shops' contents strewn about in the street. Broken shelving, smashed display cases, and destroyed merchandise littered the alley all along its length. It seemed that anything that wasn't worth stealing ended up tossed in the street. A few of the shops looked as though they were burned out. He glanced into Eeylop's and saw the smoking remains of all the owls that were trapped in their cages during the conflagration.

Hundreds of ruined books littered the street in front of Flourish and Blotts. He was inwardly thankful that Hermione wasn't there to see that particular scene. He also saw several lifeless bodies here and there, although thankfully there was no one he recognized. Several bodies were in Death Eater garb, and a few wore auror robes, and he immediately worried if Ben had been around during the attack.

Very few of the shops remained intact, among those that were spared the devastation was the Gringotts building and the shops immediately around it. It seemed that the Death Eaters wisely gave the menacing Cave Ogres and the vicious looking Hobgoblins a wide berth.

As he reached the end of the alley, he saw that the buildings this far down had remained untouched, among them were the Twins' shop and Ollivander's. He passed easily through the boarded-up window and carefully inspected the wand that still rested on the faded blue pillow. He could plainly see the engraved birds along the shaft and the letters 'R R' etched around the handle… and he saw the smoky black serpent with the smouldering red eyes coiled around it.

He had seen enough. In a flash, he rose above Diagon Alley, anxious to put some distance between him and the decimated marketplace, and streaked across the continent, over the vast Atlantic, and ended up gently lowering himself back into his body just in time to see Hermione step out from the bathroom covered only in a damp towel and carrying her clothes draped over her arm.

His gaze rested on the clothing on her arm. He saw the yellow of her sundress partially covered by the faded blue of her denim shorts. On top of those rested the lacy, cream-coloured brassiere that he remembered picking out of her drawer back at her house in St. Osyth. He also remembered the matching knickers that he packed along with the bra that he deduced she was wearing beneath the towel. That didn't matter to him, because his mind was already submerged in the tidal wave of hormones that instantly surged through his system. That wave of emotion didn't last long as the memory of what he had seen in Diagon Alley came to the forefront of his mind.

When Hermione first stepped from the bathroom and saw the look he was giving her, that look that made her feel as if she were the most beautiful girl in the world. Seeing that, she had a hard time stringing two words together and she could feel a burning flush instantly cover her face and chest as she distractedly said, "I… I left the soap and shampoo in the shower for you, and there's a… um… clean towel on the rack… in case you wanted…" She then saw his face fall into a morose sort of frown and asked, "What's wrong?"

"I just got back from Diagon alley… the shops there…"

"You Apparated back there alone?" hissed Hermione through clenched teeth, the lustful feelings she had a moment before instantly forgotten, "Don't you know how dangerous that was?"

"I didn't Apparate…" explained Harry quietly so that he wouldn't wake Kotone, "I used my state and left my body, like we did when we repaired the bond. I traveled to the lake at Hogwarts to see if the cup was really there… which it was, snake and all… and then I decided to go to Ollivander's to get a closer look at the wand. It appears that it really is Ravenclaw's wand, and it definitely is a horcrux."

"Okay, so what's bothering you?"

"The Alley's in ruins. It looked like the Death Eaters raided the place, but most of the shops had closed down a few days before, so I can't imagine that they got much in the way of supplies. What they didn't take, they destroyed."

Hermione's face became unreadable. He could almost see the cogs spinning in her head. A minute later, he saw her face morph into a look if determination as she picked up the pile of her clothes from the floor, causing her towel to briefly open which gave him a fleeting glimpse of the glory that was concealed underneath.

Harry didn't notice that she was watching him from the corner of her eye as she bent down, and he completely missed the brief smile that then appeared on her lips.

Hermione climbed the stairs up to the loft, being very aware that Harry was watching her every move from behind her. She thought it odd that she had to consciously try to keep her hips from swaying exaggeratedly as she climbed the steps, something that seemed impossibly difficult to do when one knows that one is being watched. Just knowing that his eyes were fixed on her stirred the desire in her that was bubbling just below the surface.

Hermione inwardly cursed that she was having her period as she stored her things in the dresser. She went into the loft's bathroom and quickly dressed, well out of view of Harry's roving eyes. She then returned to the living room, rummaged through her bag, and then pulled out the Soul Magic book.

Harry, in fact, had been watching her ever since she emerged from the bathroom. He was so engrossed in watching her movements that he was actually startled when she stood up with the book and said, "Well, come on… let's get this over with."

Harry stood from the sofa and followed Hermione out to the beach. Although night had already fallen when he traveled to Britain a few minutes before, the sun was just setting on the island they were on. He looked over towards the west to see the brilliant reds and oranges of the sky on the horizon beyond where Hermione was standing waiting for him. The beauty of the island and of the girl before him reaffirmed his belief that this place was truly a paradise.

-----~-----

As the front door closed, a faint flash of blue light announced the arrival of a visitor.

An impossibly tall man with an equally impossibly fair face was standing beside the sofa looking down at the sleeping Kotone. His long, flowing white hair cascaded down over his shoulders, parted only where his huge, white feathery wings protruded from his back.

As if she sensed his arrival, Kotone's eyes fluttered open and she looked up at her natural father. She immediately got up from the floor and stood in front of the imposing figure. She gave a respectful bow and silently waited for him to speak.

"I'm very proud of you, child. Your work here is done. It is time for you to fulfill your obligation," said Kyuushuu in his soft, almost feminine voice in the language of the Oni, "You have one last duty to perform, and then you will have your reward."

"So soon, Father?" asked Kotone in a voice choked with sadness, "I have had so little time with Shishi and Washi…"

Kyuushuu smiled sympathetically down at his daughter and said, "I know, but this is the better way, for them and for you. You will be free from the Oni curse, and they will not have the stigma of a daughter such as you are. They would be outcasts, scorned for taking someone like you into their family. Even their families and friends would suffer the injustice of bigotry. You knew all along what has to come to pass, you will be…"

Kyuushuu paused when he saw a tear fall from Kotone's lowered face. He blinked back a tear of his own as he said much more softly, "I know how you feel, child, just as I know how he will feel. Your Shishi isn't the only one who will be losing a daughter, but unlike him, I am immortal, and I will never see you again. Where you are going and who you will be is much, much better than where and what you are now. Please do not be saddened, you already know what will happen."

Kotone just nodded as she solemnly said, "I must say goodbye, and I must tell my Washi about the gift."

Kotone found a sheet of parchment and a quill the carefully scribbled out a short letter. She sealed it in an envelope, attached it to the fireplace above the bearskin rug and then turned to her father.

Kyuushuu smiled at his daughter kindly and reached out his hand to her as he said, "It is time… you know what to do."

An instant later, the room was empty.

-----~-----

As he approached Hermione, his eyes scanned to the right along the horizon, marveling at the different colours of the sky that darkened in degrees the further away from the sunset. That was when he spied the small speck of black against a band of light indigo. He paused as he watched the black dot seemed to grow in size as it came nearer at an impossibly rapid rate. He barely had time to duck as a rather large Mongbat swooped down from the sky and dropped a sealed cylinder onto the sand at his feet. He watched the winged beast circle once above their heads before it took off in the direction that he had come and disappeared into the distance less than a minute later. He looked down at the cylinder and immediately recognized the golden emblem of Gringotts Wizarding Bank emblazoned on its side.

They briefly looked at each other in surprise before Harry reached down and carefully lifted the cylinder from the sand. He flipped the latch and opened the hinged lid at the end of the tube. He tilted the cylinder and out slid a pair of keys and a tightly rolled scroll of parchment that let out a short blue glow the instant it touched his hand. Again, they gave each other a questioning glance as Harry unrolled the parchment and read…

'Dear Mister Black-Potter,

Congratulations on achieving your majority. I am pleased to report that access to your ancestral vault, Vault Number 24, is now available to you. We have taken the liberty of canceling the contract on the trust vault, Vault Number 1073, and the disposition of Vault Number 1122 must be addressed as well, as that is reaching full capacity. Furthermore, we are in the process of evaluating your estate's financial holdings and investments, but this may take some time as we gather the data from the various businesses and funds. As was previously mentioned, we should arrange to meet at your earliest convenience to discuss the status of your holdings, and if you would indulge me, another matter that could prove to benefit us both.

Due to recent events, meeting inside of Gringotts would be ill advised. The cylinder that this message was delivered in is a two-way portkey that will transport you to a secure location where we can meet in complete safety. Place your wand on the cylinder and say 'Gringotts' and you will be delivered to the designated meeting place.

Once again, I congratulate you on achieving your majority, and look forward to our continued collaborations.

Best regards,

Ragnok

Director- Gringotts Wizarding Bank.'

As Hermione read along with Harry, she commented in stunned disbelief, "That has got to be the most courteous correspondence coming from any goblin that I have ever heard of! Goblins are never that polite!"

"I wonder what's in vault 1122? It can't be the Black vault, because Dumbledore said that the contents from there were transferred to my own vault."

"Well, it's getting too late today, so let's worry about that tomorrow. We've got something to do right now… we've delayed it long enough."

Harry looked at Hermione curiously as he slid the keys and parchment back into the cylinder and said, "And what might that be?"

"It's high time we find out what you're really capable of," said Hermione as she conjured a wide blanket and sat herself down, "You're going to perform the Warlock's Enhancement Ritual, but before we get to that, I need to explain to you about the different types of magic and how they work."

And explain she did. By the time Hermione had finished relating how Soul magic worked on a harmonic combination of the other types, Harry's head was spinning. She could see that he was losing focus, so decided to think of a simpler way to describe the process.

Hermione snapped her fingers in front of Harry's slightly unfocused eyes and said, "Pay attention, this part's important. I want you to explain to me the steps involved in casting a spell."

After a few moments' thought, Harry answered, "Well, which spell? They're all different."

Hermione smiled brightly and said, "Excellent! You were paying attention. So what makes them different?"

"Well, it's not just what you're trying to do, it's also the circumstances that effect how spells are cast."

"Good, so you are in a duel against only one opponent and you are on the attack. What are the steps involved in attacking him?"

"I suppose I'd try a stunner… I give an underhand stroke-and-jab of the wand and say…"

Hermione cut him off, "What do you do before that?"

Several moments passed as a confused expression crossed Harry's face before he said, "I'm not sure what you mean…"

"Alright, how did you decide on a stunner?"

"Hermione, in a heated duel, I usually work by instinct. I just cast the first spell that comes to mind… one that I think might work."

"Exactly… there's no planning involved. A spell just pops into your mind, and then you perform the wand movement and say the incantation. So why would a spell just pop into your mind? Think about how that choice of spells enters your consciousness."

Again, Harry was completely lost on what Hermione was getting at. Seeing the expectant look on her face, he figured he had better at least try. She seemed to stress the point of consciousness, so what of the subconscious?

"Sights and sounds around me enter my perception," began Harry as he spoke through his thoughts, "If I see or sense an opening in a opponent's defenses, I suppose my mind decides which would be the most effective spell and…"

"Good, interrupted Hermione again, "You're on the right track. What if I were to tell you that something happens between what you perceive and what your mind decides to try? In other words, why would your mind come up with a stunner and not a bludgeoning hex, a jelly-legs jinx, or the killing curse? What suggests to your mind what an appropriate course of action would be?"

Harry's eyes drifted down to the book sitting in Hermione's lap as he considered what she was asking. It dawned on him as he read the words on the book's cover.

"My soul," said Harry in a whisper as the realization struck him, "My soul… who I am inside… drives what actions I take."

Hermione beamed at him as she reached out and took his hand, "I know it's a difficult concept, but you needed to understand that aspect before we continue on. Now you know exactly where the choices come from when performing magic… it all centers on intent, which is what your soul dictates. Now think about this… As you said, a person can manipulate a wand while saying an incantation to produce a spell. That's the way we've all been taught. We were just starting to delve into non-verbal spells last year, where a person concentrates on the spell while performing the wand movements, replacing the spoken words with his concentration. Now why can't someone tap into his subconscious mind to replace the act of concentration?"

"I suppose it would be possible, but can magic actually work that way?"

Tapping the book in her lap, Hermione answered, "According to this, we can take that theory to another level. This book suggests that a person who masters Soul Magic can cast a spell, any spell, solely through intent… with no conscious thought involved… you allow your soul to do the casting for you. Once that power is unlocked, wand movements become unnecessary… and in some spells, even the wand itself is unnecessary, although the book is unclear on exactly what spells can be done wandlessly. Unlocking that power is what the Warlock's Ritual is supposed to accomplish. Are you ready?"

Without hesitation, Harry nodded and shifted into a more comfortable position on the blanket, "Right, what do I need to do?"

"First, try to forget everything that you've learned about spellcasting. Actually, this would be much easier for you if you had never learned magic. I want you to go into your state and just get acquainted with everything around you. Don't leave your body, just try to get to the point where you can sense what's around you. Familiarize yourself with your surroundings as quickly as you can, and describe to me what you're experiencing."

Harry did as he was told. He closed his eyes as he slowly entered his state and gradually felt the odd sensation of time slowing down around him. He recognized the point where he could 'see' the surrounding environment and concentrated on staying at that point, not allowing his soul to detach from his body. There was the darkened ocean to his right, the house to his left, the lagoon behind him, and the stretch of beach beyond where Hermione, who was now looking like a ghostly human-avian hybrid, was sitting in front of him.

"Okay, I'm at the point where I can see in all directions…"

Harry paused a moment as he saw Hermione enter her state. The sight of her hair darkening and lengthening always enthralled him. The way her skin took on a china-doll quality, how her eyes became darker and more alluring… not to mention the change that her clothing underwent when she transformed… all cloaked behind the white, ethereal eagle form of her soul.

Harry was snapped out of the distraction by Hermione's voice, "Sorry, you were speaking too fast. I couldn't understand what you said, so I had to enter my state to 'catch up.' You should keep that in mind when dealing with others while in your state."

Harry concentrated on 'feeling' his surroundings once again. He knew his was sitting on a blanket, which in turn was sitting on the sand. He knew the support was there, he just couldn't feel it beneath him. Slowly he was becoming aware of certain odd sensations, the most prominent one being a gentle force rhythmically pushing against his right side. It took him a minute to figure out that it was the force of the oceans waves washing on the shore. He could feel the oscillating pressure of the waves against the air, but was surprised to find that he could also feel the waves' forces through the sand beneath him as well.

He wasn't sure when Hermione got to her feet, as he suddenly noticed her walking around him etching runes into the sand in a wide circle around him. He listened to her voice as she worked, and it sounded to him like a soft, melodic humming. He began to pay more attention to the sounds around him. He saw a crab scuttling across the wet sand near the shoreline, and could actually 'feel' its steps through the sand before he heard the muffled movements of its pointed legs. He suddenly became aware of the sounds of the various insects in the foliage surrounding the lagoon and the house, and he could swear he could make out each individual sound that each insect made.

Awareness. Total awareness. It was as if he could sense where everything around him was without looking. Harry could feel the movements of the leaves of the plants and trees around him, he could detect the graceful swishes and darting turns of the schools of fish beneath the ocean's surface, he could hear the air currents passing under the wings of the sea birds as they rode the fading thermals… he could almost see the swirling vortices and the chaotic shifting of the wind itself… he was aware… and underneath it all was the constant low, mellifluous chant that was Hermione's incantation.

Hermione's incantation ended just as she had finished etching the last rune into the sand. Instantly, all of the runes flashed out in a nearly blinding blue-white light as a column of energy that stretched up into the sky snapped into existence.

Harry let out a hoarse yell of pain as his body was lifted up from the blanket and hung suspended in the column of white energy. His eyelids flew open and two piercing beams of white light cut through the darkness surrounding the column.

Harry felt as though he were being burned alive. Every nerve ending over every inch of his body was screaming in agony, and even his soul appeared to feel the excruciating pain. However, even through the agonizing pain, he was still in touch with the 'awareness' that he had been experiencing before.

As his consciousness adjusted to the pain, he realized that the 'awareness' wasn't just there, but seemed to be magnified tenfold. He could see the wind in the air… he could see the fish beneath the waves, and could tell the type and color of each… he could hear the slow murmur of the bivalves and mollusks buried beneath the sands, he knew where all of the insects were, what they were doing, he could feel the faint, steady pressure of the quickly approaching storm from the west beyond the horizon… he could hear…

He could hear… an unfamiliar, effeminate voice… whispering softly in a strange language he couldn't identify… from inside the house…

The column of energy surrounding Harry swelled abruptly before exploding outwards in an expanding wall of force, knocking the stunned Hermione onto her arse while creating a wave of sand rippling across the beach. Harry fell heavily onto the blanket, but then immediately sprang to his feet and sprinted towards the front door of the house.

"Kotone!" yelled Harry into the room, but received no response.

Harry looked frantically around the empty room. Kotone was no longer asleep in her usual spot upon the polar bearskin rug. Harry quickly swung the door to the nursery open, but it, too, was empty save for the furniture. In a panic, he checked the kitchen, bathroom and the loft, but didn't find her anywhere.

"Harry…" came Hermione's nervous voice from the living room. He looked down over the loft's railing to see Hermione shakily lifting an envelope that was attached to the mantle of the fireplace.

On the envelope, one word was written in poorly scrawled letters, 'Father.'

-----~-----

A/N: Fun Fact: Kyuushuu is the name of an island in Japan, (the southernmost main island,) the actual name of a mythical demon (Oni), and it translates to, amongst other things, 'a bitter enemy,' 'revenge,' or 'old customs.' (Take your pick at which applies to Kotone's father… (insert evil laugh here.)

(and, by the way, I don't consider this a cliffhanger… you all know what happened to Kotone! Well… kinda…)