Don't Fear the Reaper by starwberry_nerd

Rating: PG
Genres: Humor, Action & Adventure
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 30/03/2008
Last Updated: 18/08/2011
Status: Paused

From the challenge of Reptilia28 comes Don't Fear the Reaper!- Harry has died, big surprise,
but he discovers that he has died six times! In the process of being rewritten




1. The End
----------



I do not own Harry Potter, I don't even own this challenge- it's reptilia28's
fault

Harry is killed at 17 during a fight with Voldemort. He's sent to his Death's office
(explained later) and finds out that this isn't the first time that this has happened.

*Harry's Death (who can have a human name) is mad at his arrival. Apparently, people dying
before their time is a black mark on the various Deaths' records, and Harry is getting
perilously close to getting this particular one fired.

*When Harry asks what was supposed to have happened, Death goes off on a rant saying how he was
supposed to have killed Voldemort, found his soul mate ("Some Granger girl...") and lived
to be a centennial age. But since Harry keeps getting into life-threatening situations for one
reason or another, he keeps dying before that happens. Harry is surprised about the soul mate
part.

*Death gives Harry a paper to sign that allows him to retain his memories (the previous times,
he wasn't given this option for some reason). Harry is deposited to a previous time of the
writer's choosing.

*Eventually, Harry gets it right. He kills Voldemort, gets the girl, and lives to a ripe old age
of whatever. And Death doesn't get fired

*Harry had to have died at least three times before this one.

*The memory keeping contract must be included.

*Death must refer to Hermione as "some Granger girl" when Harry's soul mate turns
up in his rant.

Harry blinked as he looked at his surroundings. He was standing in a waiting room, probably the
nicest waiting room that he had ever been in; not that he had many to compare it to.

It was an average sized room with one wall completely covered in bookshelves that were stuffed
with various books, potted plants and little trinkets, mostly statuettes. The other three walls
were baby blue with multi colored polka dots. The wall opposite the bookshelf had numerous pictures
which didn't move, something Harry found slightly unsettling since he wasn't certain how to
explain to a muggle about how he got in the room. The floor was covered in a soft, thick green
carpet and there were two plump looking dark green chairs with red cushions. But the strange and
very unnerving thing about the room was that it had no doors. The young wizard felt like it was a
room that Luna would like quite a lot. Harry half heartedly attempted to apparate but as he had
suspected he would, he merely bounced back. He was stuck. He frowned and tried to figure out what
happened.

“Okay, we found out that Mundungus had stolen the real locket and pawned it in Knockturn.” Harry
muttered to himself as he began to pace, his expression growing sour as he thought of Mundungus. He
shook his head to rid himself of the thought of the thief,

“We got the locket and then we were leaving when the Lestranges showed up and they looked
around.” He stood straight as he realized something, “They weren't just looking for something.”
His eyes became narrowed, “They were looking for us!” Harry punched one of the walls,

“How did they know we were going to be there?” His mind began to whirl as he tried to figure out
how the death eaters had known he and his friends would be there.

“Hello there,” began a cheery voice and Harry whirled around and pointed his wand at the person
who had entered the room.

The person was a petite girl who looked about his age. She had brown hair pulled up in a messy
ponytail though a few locks fell and framed her oval face which was a little too long for her to be
considered a beauty. Pleasant would probably be the most she could reach for. She wore long black
robes that looked too big for her small frame and she had pushed back the sleeves to reveal wiry,
pale arms covered in silver bracelets of a variety of styles decorated by black opals. In her hands
she held a clip board and a muggle glitter pen. She looked up at him with large hazel eyes that
were made larger by the thick glasses resting on her slightly long nose. As soon as she looked at
him her eyes bugged out in an almost comical fashion and she dropped her clipboard.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” she shrieked. Her pale face became even paler until her skin looked
like milk with a sprinkle of cinnamon. Harry thought she looked like she was going to be sick.

“Miss, are you okay?” he asked hesitantly. The girl blinked a few times and let out a wordless
shriek before she pushed him onto one of the chairs.

“HOW DARE YOU ASK ME HOW I AM!” the girl screeched, “YOU IRRESPONSIBLE, IDIOTIC, RECKLESS,
DIMWITTED, WHINING LITTLE *GRYFFINDOR*!” she spat the name out as if it was a curse and at
this Harry became angry.

“Look, I don't know where I am or who you are but you have no right to yell at me!” Harry
growled back as he stood and looked down at the girl, using his best menacing stare. It had no
effect,

“Oh I have no right huh?” the girl growled and she pushed him back into his chair.

“DON'T YOU DARE TELL ME WHAT I HAVE THE RIGHT TO DO HARRY JAMES POTTER!” Harry winced as he
covered his ears. The girl was shriller than Mrs. Weasley.

“Everything about this is your own fault!” The girl went on now ignoring the young wizard. “You
keep being an idiotic Gryffindor! First it was that stupid pig of a cousin, you just had to taunt
him. You just had to let him push you down the stairs!” Harry frowned as he remembered that
incident. Dudley had taken a teddy bear, one he had previously discarded and probably should have
been thrown out, from him and he had been mad. Dudley had ended up pushing him down the stairs and
he had broken his arm and locked in the cupboard until his arm healed while Dudley got a new teddy
bear.

“Then it was that thrice cursed quidditch match! I could just kill your headmaster!” Harry felt
sadness and anger course through him and he glared at the girl but she ignored it.

“And then that stupid dragon! Do you know how hard it is to piece together a partially digested
body? Huh? Do you?” she demanded and Harry shook his head.

“Of course you don't! Well let me tell you, not only is it only of the most
*disgusting* things I have *ever* done, IT IS HARD!” she screamed, her face becoming red
from her anger, “And I do NOT appreciate that you keep trying to make me loose my job you
Gryffindor!” she growled and then turned away from him again as she began to pace and talk, more to
herself than to Harry.

“It's not that I don't get it. I can understand the whole starvation thing, that
wasn't your fault. I can even understand this time since, according to my notes, you and your
friends were kidnapped by the Lestranges and then tortured to death and all by Voldemort. BUT WHEN
YOU GO OFF AND JUMP INTO THAT STUPID VEIL YOU'RE PUSHING IT!” she screamed and Harry jumped and
tried to shrink away from her angry eyes as he wondered when he had jumped through the veil.

“You, you *Gryffindor*,” she spat the word out as if it was a vile curse as she poked her
finger into his chest, “You are not supposed to die until you are well past 200 years old.” She
turned away from him, “I mean, it's bad enough that you have Cupid bugging me every day,
telling me that I'm supposed to make sure that you get some Granger girl or whatever the heck
her name is since she's your soul mate and then, get this, now he's griping that some
stupid red head used a love potion on you. Then, Cupid's apparently not enough, oh no,
*you*, you have to have *Fate* whining to me about your stupid destiny. Now, I think that
under normal circumstances I could deal with this. But when it's you and you alone are the one
to give me SIX FREAKING MARKS, I think I have a bit of right to be a little more than ticked off,
don't you?” Harry had enough now.

“Look, I have no clue what's going on and what do you mean when you said that
*Hermione's* my soul mate?” The girl blinked and Harry could see the rage draining from
her eyes.

“You really have no idea?” she asked, her voice hushed. Harry shook his head and her mouth
dropped open.

“I could have sworn,” she muttered and then scowled, “I don't care how cute he is, Dr.
Jackson is getting *such* a talking to when he comes back.” She sighed and sat down in the
opposite chair and waved her hand. Two mugs appeared in front of them and she took the mug with a
dragon on it leaving one with sickeningly cute kittens on it for him. After a sip she sighed and
sat back before focusing back on Harry.

“Go ahead, it's just cider, it's not going to kill you. I keep a stash of this stuff for
whenever you come back here. I'm Mina, though you would know me as Death I suppose.” Harry
starred at her and quickly put his mug down. Mina pouted,

“I said it's not going to kill you. You always do this; every time I introduce myself you
never ever eat anything I give you.” She sipped her drink again.

“Every time?” Harry asked as shock began to settle in. Mina nodded and put her own mug down.

“All right, I'll give you the explanation, again. Harry, this is currently the sixth time
you've died before you were supposed to.” She waited for a moment while the information caught
up with Harry's already confused mind,

“I-I've died? Six times?” he stuttered. Mina nodded,

“Yes and its going to cost me my job if you don't stop it.” She rolled her eyes when
Harry's face became confused.

“I refuse to pull that stupid chart out again so I'm going to spell it out for you.” Mina
declared as she stood up once again and pushed back her sleeves. Harry watched her carefully and
began to wonder if this was really just a crazy dream or a hallucination.

“Now, when a human is born he or she is assigned what you would call a guardian angel. This
guardian angel is responsible for the human's soul.” Harry opened his mouth to speak but Mina
cut him off,

“A guardian is not responsible in any way, shape or form for their charge's mental or
physical well being unless it interferes with their life span as dictated by Fate, who, by the way,
is a pain in the rear.” She smiled slightly as Harry nodded in agreement with a scowl on his
face.

“Anyway, when a charge dies then it's the guardian's duty to collect their soul and take
them to the head honcho so they can be sorted and sent to where they belong. Those rare humans who
can see us noticed what we do and talked about it. Eventually we became more commonly known as grim
reapers or Death.” She giggled, “Personally, I rather enjoy being known as an angel of death.” When
she realized that Harry wasn't laughing, she pouted for a moment and then returned to her
story,

“But there are always those humans who gum up the works, usually by dying before they're
supposed to.” She gave him a pointed look and continued in a hard voice, “When someone dies before
they're supposed to then it looks really, really bad on the guardian's record.” She glared
at him now, “You, Harry, have given me six black marks on my file.” Her glare melted as tears came
to her eyes, “If I get anymore then I'll be fired!” Harry frowned,

“I don't see how that's my fault! You said it yourself, guardians are supposed to
interfere if their charge's lifespan is in danger!” he snapped. More tears came to Mina's
eyes but now anger burned in her eyes,

“You don't think I know that?” she hissed, “You don't think that I did everything I
possibly could? I was there when Voldemort first tried to kill you, I was there when Petunia would
have left you screaming in the cupboard the first day you came to the Dursleys, I was there almost
every time that nitwit of a cousin would have murdered you, I was there at all but one of your
quidditch matches, I was there when you saved the philosopher's stone, when you killed the
basilisk, when you drove off the dementors! I was even there when you and that stupid friend of
yours went off and drove that blasted car instead of doing the sensible thing and owling for help.
I was there when you parents died, when Cedric died, when Sirius died, and when Dumbledore died. I
was there every single cursed time Harry James Potter! But you are not my only charge and if I want
to keep this stupid job then I have to keep an eye on the others as well!” Now she burst into tears
and Harry felt guilt settle into him and he wondered if perhaps it was this room that made their
emotions change far too quickly for his taste.

“Um, it's okay.” He said awkwardly and she looked up from her hands, tears coursing down her
pale cheeks,

“NO IT'S NOT YOU GRYFFINDOR!” He half heartedly glared at her and then asked,

“Why do you keep calling me a Gryffindor like it's an insult?” She hiccupped and attempted
to wipe away her tears with her large sleeves.

“My mentor was Gryffindor's guardian and he said it so many times that those of us who
worked with him do consider it an insult. You have *no idea* how disappointed I was when you
and your soul mate weren't sorted into Ravenclaw or Slytherin where you'd learn to at least
plan before you do something stupid. If you were in either of those houses then at least you'd
have some brains, besides your soul mate's, on your side when you go off to save whatever it
was Fate declared you're supposed to save.”

“I'm supposed to save the wizarding world. What about hufflepuff?” Harry asked, slightly
amused despite the odd situation. Mina shivered,

“Hufflepuffs are scary.” She saw Harry's disbelieving look and frowned, “If it wasn't
for the fact that I'd be fired if you died again then I'd let you deal with them next time
they get mad and unite.” She let out a sigh and looked at him,

“I honestly don't know what I'm going to do with you. This will be your seventh try
going through your life and as much as I enjoy watching over you, I have other charges who, while
not as death prone as you, do need watching.” She put her fingers to the sides of her head and
flopped back onto her chair.

“Why don't I remember any of this?” Harry asked once he finally decided to just go along
with everything. It wasn't as if it was outside of the realm of possibility for him to be dead.
He had been expecting his death for awhile now anyway. Though Mina had said that he wasn't
supposed to die until he was 200 or so but then again, Mina was also the one who implied that
*Hermione*, of all people, was his soul mate and that Ginny had used a love potion. She glared
up at him before she returned to rubbing her temples and then she answered,

“Because it's against the rules if you remember any of this while you're alive.
You're supposed to remember when you're dead, everyone else does, but I think you just
enjoy making things harder. It's either that or Fate is still mad because I accidentally
reminded him that most people still think he's a girl.” She frowned. Harry felt his mouth
twitch slightly as he fought back a grin.

“Anyway, you should remember this and how you died this time but since you don't I suppose
it doesn't matter quite as much. What matters is what I have to do about this.” She got out of
her chair and began to pace. Then, suddenly, the pair heard a loud BOOM and both jumped and turned
to the wall where there was now a large and elaborate looking door. Slowly it opened and in came an
imposing looking man dressed in the same black robes that Mina wore, though his were not only a
better fit, they were of much better quality as well. Mina stood up in a flash, her posture stiff
and her face guarded.

Harry narrowed his eyes as he studied the new comer. He was tall, at least a head taller than
Harry and he had sandy blonde hair neck and clear hazel eyes. He looked very fit and from the way
Mina was blushing Harry guessed that he could be considered handsome. If anything, the man reminded
Harry slightly of Cedric but with broader shoulders but there was something about him that just
irritated the young wizard. In one hand the man had a spool of thread that he was toying with and
around the other wrist he had an elaborate gold bracelet decorated with three jewels, a ruby, a
sapphire and a diamond.

“What are you doing here?” Mina demanded, her cheeks now bright pink. The man glared at her and
answered,

“When my tapestry is being tampered with, it's my duty to check on the problem. You are more
than aware of the rules Wilhelmina. It is strictly forbidden for anyone to recall their past
attempts, no matter how many times they've died.” Harry watched as Mina's eyes widened.

“You mean I could do that?” The man scowled darkly,

“Wilhelmina, I just told you, it's forbidden!” Mina smiled sweetly,

“Fate, I don't think you've ever managed to meet Harry.” She turned to Harry, “Harry,
this is Fate, the weaver of the tapestry of life. Fate, *this* is Harry James Potter.” Harry
almost stepped back when the man he now knew was Fate suddenly turned on him, a furious expression
on his face. Then the introduction that Mina gave completely entered his mind.

“YOU!” the man growled, his hands twitching as if he wanted to wrap them around someone's
neck. Harry felt himself grow angry at this person who had caused so much trouble in his life.

“THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!” both men shouted at the same time as Mina watched on with a curious
look on her face.

“If it wasn't for you and that stupid prophecy then they would still be alive!” Harry yelled
as he reached for his wand. He was furious to discover that it wasn't there so instead he
curled his hands into fists, more than prepared to take the first swing.

“You're the one that keeps messing up! Do you have any idea how hard it is to weave that
stupid tapestry in the first place?” Fate shouted back.

“Okay boys, that's more than enough. Fate, you see my problem. If I leave for an instant
then the kid tends to die and then you have to re-weave the tapestry. Harry, yes it's true that
Fate is the sadistic son of a biscuit eater who wove the death of your friends and family, but
honestly, there was no other choice.” Harry felt a familiar cold rage encase him as he listened to
Mina's words while Fate frowned sourly at Mina.

“No other choice?” he whispered in a tone of disbelief as he stared at Fate accusingly, “You had
no other choice then to let my godfather die? You had no choice except to let Cedric die? You had
no other choice then to let Dumbledore die?” Fate scowled,

“Black wasn't supposed to be standing there. It was supposed to be that Bella girl who stood
there. But someone had to die to die or the whole lot of you would have been killed. That would
mean that every important leader for the next three centuries would be dead in just a few
seconds.”

“And Cedric, Dumbledore? They were supposed to die?” Harry snarled. Fate tensed, his eyes
narrowed in anger,

“Whether you believe it or not, I can't control every thread on the tapestry, most of it
weaves itself. Cedric wasn't even supposed to have entered the blasted tournament, much less
have been a champion. As for Dumbledore, there were three outcomes and Dumbledore made the choice
himself and honestly I would have thought that you would have preferred to have that manipulating
geezer out of your way.”

“Manipulating geezer? Dumbledore was one of the greatest men who ever lived.” Fate put his hand
to his forehead and muttered something under his breath before he looked at Harry,

“You really don't know?”

“Know what?” Harry snapped, still angry at the man who stood before him. Mina cut in,

“That Dumbledore, while he did care for you like the great-grandson he never had, was getting to
be a little absent minded as he got older. For example, the blood wards that he placed so much
faith in had next to no effect if the family inside wasn't loving so while you were at the
Dursleys you were actually at your most vulnerable. If the wards had been working properly then
those dementors wouldn't have been able to get within three miles of Privet Drive.” Harry
blinked and Mina went on,

“Then of course there's the matter of your teachers, specifically potions and defense
against the dark arts. I mean, he let Voldemort of all people teach you. True he was stuck on the
back of Quirrel's head but still. And Moody was a good friend of his yet he couldn't see
through Crouch jr.'s disguise. Honestly I don't know what was wrong with him. I'm not
even going to start on Snape.” Harry felt shocked,

“But, I thought,” Here Fate cut him off,

“No you didn't think, you were a Gryffindor. You took people for granted unless you
didn't like them. You would have trusted Malfoy if he hadn't condemned himself the moment
he opened his mouth.” All sorts of feelings began to overwhelm Harry and he fell back onto his own
chair. Fate looked at Mina who was now smiling sweetly, a brow raised in expectation.

“I can't make this decision myself.” Fate told her and Mina just continued to look at him
expectantly and Fate scowled,

“Go get him.” He growled and Mina squealed and flung her arms around Fate's neck.

“Thank you!” Mina squeaked and then she let him go and ran off through the elaborate doors that
had appeared when Fate arrived. Harry looked up at Fate who was staring after Mina with a bemused
look on his face.

“So what is it that Mina wants to do?” Fate looked at him as if he had forgotten that Harry was
there before he answered,

“She wants to change your future.” Fate replied, an enigmatic smile on his face. He began to
play with the thread in his hand once more and smiled again as the string began to glow. Then Mina
came tumbling back into the room, her hair falling around her face, the edges of her robes singed,
revealing rainbow stocking clad feet, and a large stack of papers clutched in her arms.

“Got them!” she chirped and held them out to Harry who stared at her, unsure of what she was up
to. Suddenly another figure walked up behind her and grabbed the small woman by her waist and
putting a knife against her pale throat. She let out a squeak and held incredibly still.

Harry stood up and searched for anything he could do to help Mina get away from the imposing man
that held the knife to her throat.

“Now, don't move a muscle.” The man said, his voice hoarse, as if he had not used it in
awhile.

-->



2. The Decision
---------------



I don't own Harry Potter, I don't even own the challenge- it's Reptilia28's
idea, but I do own Mina, Jim and Bob

************************************************************************

Harry stood up and searched for anything he could do to help Mina get away from the imposing man
that held the knife to her throat.

“Now, don't move a muscle.” The man said, his voice hoarse, as if he had not used it in
awhile. He was tall, though he might have only looked like that because he completely towered over
the petite Mina. He had a wide, vicious grin and looked like he wouldn't spare a second thought
about cutting Mina's neck. There was something in his dark eyes that made Harry feel as if the
man might even enjoy it. Like both Fate and Mina, the man wore black robes but his were tattered
stained with what looked suspiciously like blood. His sleeves had been completely torn away,
revealing thickly muscled arms covered in tattoos of strange symbols that Harry had never seen
before. Around his wrists were silver bracelets engraved with similar runes.

“Harry,” the man called and Harry tensed, “You have a decision to make. You can either go back
to your life now or restart from any point in time. But” he pressed the knife against Mina's
neck ever so slightly, “if you do that then I will kill her.” Again he pressed the knife harder to
Mina's neck and a thin line of blood appeared, “On the other hand, agree to leave Sirius as he
is and I'll release the girl.” He moved the knife again so it was no longer pressing into
Mina's neck and Harry's mouth fell open in shock,

“What?” he said before he could think and the man chuckled darkly,

“Your choice Potter, the girl's life or a chance to save Sirius and Dumbledore.” Mina
whimpered as he again moved the knife, preparing to slit her throat and she looked at Harry with
large, fear filled eyes. Harry gritted his teeth,

“Why are you doing this?” he demanded and the man let out a bark of laughter,

“Because I can, now choose.” The trickle of blood running down Mina's throat grew slightly
thicker.

“Let Mina go.” Harry snarled, furious that this man could even suggest such a thing, furious at
himself for nearly listening to him. The man smirked and released Mina who then handed the papers
she held to Fate before she turned back to the man and punched him in the face.

“You jerk!” she growled as the man laughed at her for a moment before he winced and held one
large hand against his jaw.

“Wait a minute, what's going on?” Harry demanded, wondering why the man suddenly seemed far
less threatening. The man looked at Harry and smiled, a real smile, not the bloodthirsty grin he
had been sporting earlier.

“Harry Potter, I am Mina's mentor and the senior reaper of the Western hemisphere. You can
call me Jim.” Harry looked at him curiously, still tensed in case he tried anything.

“You're the one that watched over Godric Gryffindor?” Harry asked as he remembered something
that Mina had mentioned earlier. The man grimaced and nodded,

“And I have never been happier than the day that Godric became a permanent resident of heaven.
The idiot gave me five marks before he finally got it right and convinced his friends to help him
start a school of magic.”

“So why were you trying to kill Mina?” Harry demanded and Mina began to laugh. Harry glared at
her and Fate answered as she tried to control herself.

“Harry, Mina is an incarnation of death. She can't be killed. At most, she would have had a
scar for the next century or so.”

“Then why go through that?” the young wizard persisted and while Mina still lay on the floor,
laughing her lung out, Jim answered.

“Because it's my decision whether or not you can go through with this. If you didn't
catch it the first time, I'm DEATH!” His voice became large and Harry could feel it rattling
his bones and watched in awe as, for a split second, Jim became surrounded by fire and his flesh
melted away, leaving only a skeleton with a terrifying grin. Then the second was over and Jim was
back to his usual fairly intimidating self. “Plus it helps that my brother is father time and he
agreed to help out.”

“But you didn't answer my question.” Harry pointed out once he could find his voice and Jim
smirked,

“If you had chosen to go back and leave Mina to die, then you would have gone back. But it would
have been to about a half hour before your death and you probably gotten yourself and your friends
killed, the wizarding world enslaved and Mina fired.”

“But instead of saving someone you loved you chose to save someone who is a stranger, at least
in your point of view. Therefore, you're worthy of this.” Mina broke in as she finally managed
to get off the floor and speak normally.

“Worthy of what?” Harry exclaimed, feeling very tired by all these turn of events. Fate held out
the papers.

“Just sign this contract and you can chose to go to any point in your life with full memories of
your previous attempt.” Harry looked at the contract and began to read it over carefully. After the
first paragraph he wished that Hermione was there to make some sense of the legal jargon. As he
flipped through the pages, the confusion on his face became more apparent until finally Mina took
pity on him.

“Harry, it just boils down to you being allowed to keep your memories as a reward for your
selfless behavior, or at least that's the official reason, and you will be able to choose what
time you return as long as you swear an oath that you'll give Jim the complete soul of one Tom
Marvolo Riddle Junior. In fact,” Mina stood up and went over to the bookshelf, searching through it
until she chose one of the many knickknacks scattered among the books. It was a pair of small
boxes, each one no larger than the palm of Mina's hand which had begun to glow with a subtle
golden light. One was made of something dark and covered with an intricate design while the other
had gold vines wrapped around it. She gave the dark one to him and he took it without thinking. He
didn't notice that the glow that had encased Mina's had had spread to the box and that the
glow from the box began to travel up his arm the moment he touched it. He also didn't notice
the look on Jim's face.

“Just put any horcrux you find in this and it will appear in this box and Jim can take care of
it.” Harry looked doubtfully at the small box which had stopped glowing and Fate laughed at
him.

“She may not look like it kid, but she is a demi-goddess and she has some form of intelligence.”
Mina stuck her tongue out at him but Fate continued unperturbed, “Don't you think that perhaps
the box is more than it seems?” he rolled his eyes, “Gryffindors, they always take things for
granted. Give me a Ravenclaw any day.”

“If we could get back to business?” grumbled Jim who looked pointedly at the contract. Harry
took a deep breath and signed the papers which Jim promptly snapped back with a vicious grin.

“Excellent, now just follow me and you can be on your way Harry.” Harry nodded and followed the
imposing man through the elaborate doors into a long white hallway. At intervals along the pristine
walls were gold plaques, each with a different name on them, some in languages that Harry
didn't recognize.

“Those are the ones who distinguish themselves.” Harry jumped and turned to Mina who had a far
off look in her eyes that reminded him of Luna.

“What?” Harry whispered. Something about the hallway made him want to be quiet. Mina smiled
sadly,

“Those are the champions, the angels, the saints, spirits and all others who distinguish
themselves. They are the ones who set the example who are so courageous, wise, devoted or just kind
that even immortals look up to them. Your mother is there.” Mina whispered and Jim shot a glare as
Harry paused in shock.

“My mother's there?” he repeated and Mina nodded. He looked at the plaques more carefully
now but he did not spot her name.

After a silent ten minutes of walking, they stood before a tall hourglass. Harry stared at it,
not really seeing it as the snowy sand fell into the still very small pile in the bottom half of
the hourglass. There was still the matter of his mother, his mother who was counted among the
greatest of heroes.

“Harry,” Mina called softly and he turned to her. She smiled at him and put her hands on his
temples and gently kissed him on his forehead and his scar glowed a gentle white for a moment
before it returned to normal. She smiled,

“Your mother would be proud of what you've accomplished Harry but she'll be more proud
if you don't mess this up.” The young grim reaper then quickly stood back and Jim cleared his
throat before he began to speak,

“This is your last shot Potter. Don't mess it up and put those gifts Mina gave you to good
use because she'll be paying for them if you don't.” Harry frowned in confusion as he
looked back and forth between a now sheepish Mina and a stern Jim. Before he could say anything, a
man who looked very much like Dumbledore came into the room, a smile on his face.

“Jimmy, it's so good to see you again. How is young Mr. Potter doing?” he asked in a
cheerful voice.

“He hasn't left yet.” Jim motioned to Harry and the old man blinked for a moment before he
scowled and pushed back the sleeve of his own black robe in order to look at his watch which looked
like a small sundial.

“Blast, I came in early, or did I come in late?” The old man looked pensive and Jim sighed.

“Harry, this is my brother, Time but just call him Bob. Bob, say good bye to Harry.” Time
blinked and waved absently before he wandered away, muttering under his breath. He stopped just
before he was out of ear shot.

“Ah yes, now I remember what I was supposed to do.” Bob cried triumphantly and he looked at
Harry with intense blue eyes.

“You, Mr. Potter, have caused a good deal of trouble to most of us. Mina has already given you
three gifts, use them well and remember, select your battles carefully. Ultimately, victory and
defeat are a matter of your own careful- or reckless-choices. A tool wielded in ignorance can
become the most dangerous of weapons. And finally, it is a horrible mistake to theorize before you
have all the evidence. It biases the judgment.” With those words said, Bob left, humming a little
tune under his breath.

“Is he always like that?” Harry asked, feeling as if he missed something very important.

“Yes,” Jim nodded, breaking Harry out of his thoughts. Jim motioned to the hourglass, “Touch the
glass and Mina and I will take care of the rest.”

“But wait a minute, what gifts are you talking about? You can't just mean the box.” Harry
protested and then noticed that his hand had begun to reach for the glass as if it had a mind of
its own. He tried to wrench it away but he couldn't control it.

“Don't worry about those Harry, you'll find out soon enough. Just keep in mind what Bob
told you and do your best.” Jim said encouragingly and then he seemed to get an idea and he smiled
widely. From a nearly invisible pocket in his tattered robes he pulled out a silver bracelet much
like his own. He grabbed Harry's outstretched hand and snapped the bracelet around his forearm
before Harry could say anything.

“What” Harry began but before he could ask anything, his hand had touched the glass. There was a
white flash of light and then everything went dark.

-->



3. Let's Try Again
------------------



I don't own Harry Potter, I didn't think up the idea for this story, all I've got
are copies of the books and a couple of really cool T-shirts. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm
going to go roast marshmallows over the epilogue

***********************************************************************

“Third time this week!” a voice roared and Harry sat up straight and took in his surroundings.
In a matter of moments he realized that he was back on Privet Drive, in the kitchen of all places,
and Vernon was yelling at him yet again. Harry's mind raced to try to figure out what Vernon
was yelling at him for this time and if he should reply or not and as he reached to get another
bite of toast, he stopped. He was still wearing the brace that Jim had put on him before he
appeared back here. Harry studied it for a moment as he tried to hide a smile while Vernon's
face became increasingly purple when the large man realized that Harry wasn't listening to
him.

“LISTEN TO ME BOY!” Vernon roared as he slammed his meaty fists. Petunia scowled at him but said
nothing as she served bacon to her son. Harry looked over at Dudley and wondered when his diet had
actually started working. The usually whale size boy was now about the size of a medium size
cow.

“If you can't keep that ruddy owl of yours quiet,” Vernon snarled.

“She's bored.” Harry jumped in now that he realized what Vernon was complaining about, “If I
could let her out just at night-”

“Do I look stupid?” Vernon growled, a bit of egg hanging from his bushy mustache. Harry bit his
tongue to keep himself from answering. “I know what'll happen if that owl's let out.” He
exchanged dark looks with his wife Petunia. Dudley let out a large belch that had the windows
rattling.

“I want more bacon.” The sullen boy demanded.

“There's more in the frying pan, sweetums.” Said Petunia, immediately prepared to do
anything for her massive son. “We must build you up while we've got the chance…I don't like
the sound of that school food…”

“None sense, Petunia, I never went hungry when I was at Smeltings,” said Vernon heartily.
“Dudley gets enough, don't you son?” Harry wondered if there was enough food in the world for
Dudley's appetite.

The huge boy grinned and turned to Harry,

“Pass the frying pan.” Harry did so because not even his bullying cousin could ruin the fact
that he could save Sirius! He could save Dumbledore. He could stop Voldemort from returning
altogether! Harry quickly tried to squash down the growing feelings of happiness and hope.

“You know, my friend Hermione, she gets really worried really easily. If I don't write a
letter to her then she might come to visit. Or maybe she'll get my friend Ron to come by. And
Ron has a load of older brothers, two of them love to play pranks and one of them, his hair is
getting a bit long and he happens to wear an earring.” Harry immediately decided that this was
going to be one of his favorite memories as he watched his relatives' faces pale.

“And I'd love to know what the neighbors would think if Mr. Weasley came by. He grew up in
what you call my world. Nothing normal about him at all.” The Dursley parents were now turning the
most interesting colors and Petunia looked as if she was about to faint.

“But if I could just write a letter, then they would have nothing to worry about. There would be
no reason at all for them to come here and Hedwig wouldn't make a sound. Your little dinner
party would go off perfectly.” He finished, happy that he had finally figured out exactly when he
had been placed. He watched as Vernon took all this into consideration and Harry could just see his
brain trying to make a good decision.

“Fine,” Vernon grunted, “But just at night and just so they won't come here! And stay out of
your Aunt's way while she cleans!” Harry nodded and quickly rushed outside before they could
think to give him any chores.

In moments he lay back on the garden bench and he began think about what he could do. He
remembered Hermione's little adventure with the time turner and the dangers of changing the
past. He looked down at his hands growled in frustration, wishing there was some way he could hurry
up time so he could send a letter. He needed help and the best ones who could do that were
Dumbledore and Hermione. They would know what to do. He happened to look at the hedge and with a
smile he realized that there was something in the hedge looking back. Two enormous, familiar green
eyes had appeared among the leaves. Harry was just about to call out to Dobby when a jeering voice
called out to him.

“I know what day it is,” sang the waddling Dudley. Harry raised a brow but said nothing.

“I know what day it is,” Dudley repeated. He sounded irritated, almost frustrated as he parroted
the phrase. He had obviously expected more of a response.

“Congratulations, you've learned the days of the week.” Harry snapped back, annoyed that
Dudley has scared Dobby off.

“Today's your birthday,” sneered Dudley.

“No, really? I never would have known if you hadn't told me.” Harry replied dryly and he
smirked as Dudley began to turn red in anger.

“Well, how come you haven't got any cards? Haven't you got any friends at that freak
place?” Dudley demanded.

“We don't exchange cards for birthdays in my world. We cast spells on relatives and whoever
has a relative that looks most like a pig by the end of the day wins a prize. Luckily I have a head
start.”

“MUUUUUUUM!” wailed Dudley, tripping over his feet as he ran back to the house. “MUUUUUM!
He's doing you know what!”

Harry winced and knew that this wasn't going to be pretty as a blow from Petunia soapy
frying pan came at his head. He knew that Petunia knew that no magic had been cast but of course
that didn't do him any good.

And so Dudley sat around like the lazy, spoiled brat he was, eating ice cream and sneering at
Harry who had been assigned a massive amount of chores. Wearily the boy-who-lived began to mow the
lawn, was the car, wash the windows and whatever other pointless job Petunia could think of. The
sun beat mercilessly on his back and soon he was dripping in sweat but Harry ignored this as he
tried to think.

The bracelet featured prominently in his mind as he tried to figure out why Jim had put it on
his wrist. He could feel the box in his pocket and when he had pulled it out he had watched with
amazement as it actually got larger. But Dudley began to wander a little too close so Harry had put
it back before the fat boy could see it and attempt to take it. He had no worries about Dudley
trying to take the bracelet. There were no clasps on the surprisingly light piece of jewelry and it
fit too well for him to even think about slipping it off. It reached halfway up his forearm and
engraved in the silver were strange ruins that he didn't recognize. Running around both edges
of the bracelet were squares of red, blue, and green gems separated by gold wire. He kept his mind
on the bracelet and on the question of what were the three gifts that Mina gave him. By
concentrating on something else, he could ignore most of the pain and exhaustion that was slowly
bogging down his body.

At half past seven he was finally allowed back inside. Petunia shoved a plate of a chunk of
cheese and some bread at him with a scowl on her horse like face.

“Just take it up to your room.” She snapped and Harry quickly went on his way. He caught site of
Vernon and Dudley trying to get their bowties around their many chins and just before he entered
his room, Vernon caught him by the arm.

“Remember boy, one sound.” Vernon growled and then handed the young wizard the key to
Hedwig's cage.

“And tell those friends of yours that they'd better not come anywhere near here!” he
finished and then pushed Harry away. Harry rolled his eyes and slid inside his room. With a smile
he looked at the figure that was sitting on his bed.

“Hello there.” Harry said as cheerfully as he could manage.

“Harry Potter!” Dobby cried out, “So long Dobby has been wanting to meet you…such an honor it
is!” His large tennis ball like eyes began to fill with tears.

“It's very nice to meet you as well Dobby. Would you like to sit down?” He winced as Dobby
began to wail loudly,

“S-sit down!” he sobbed, “Never….never ever…”

“Dobby, please be softer. I'm sorry, just please!” Harry hissed as he tried to comfort the
strange house elf and ushered him onto the bed. Eventually Dobby managed to control himself and say
with his huge eyes gazing up at Harry with a disconcertingly familiar look of adoration coupled
with hero worship. For a moment Harry tried to place it. He knew that it hadn't come from Dobby
all the time and he had the strangest idea that the look belonged to someone female.

“So what can I do for you?” He started and gritted his teeth as Dobby began to wail again.

“Harry Potter asks if he can help Dobby…Dobby has heard of your greatness, sit, but of your
goodness, Dobby never knew…”

Harry desperately wished there was something he could do to find out who said these things and
then grind them into dust but as it was he had to stop Dobby from continuing to praise him,

“Dobby, please, I'm not all that great, please be quiet.” Harry pleaded and looked up in a
plea to the heavens when he realized what he said.

“Harry Potter is humble and modest,” Dobby said worshipfully as he looked up at Harry. “Harry
Potter speaks not of his triumph He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.”

“Dobby, look, thank you for coming here but I already know about the evil that's going to
come to Hogwarts and I know how to take care of it. I'll be fine.” Harry told the house elf
before he could go any further with praising Harry. Dobby looked at Harry with stunned eyes,

“Harry Potter is valiant and bold! He has braved so many dangers already. But Dobby cannot let
Harry Potter be in more danger. Even if he has to shut his ears in the oven doors later, *Harry
Potter must not go back to Hogwarts*!” Dobby insisted.

“Dobby, I need to go back to Hogwarts, to my friends. I need to tell them something
important.”

“Harry Potter is wanting to go back to friends who don't even write?” Dobby said, his face
wide eyed and innocent.

“Dobby, I already know you've been stopping my letters,” Harry began.

“And Dobby will give them back if Harry Potter promises not to go back to Hogwarts. Sir, there
is a danger that you cannot, must not face! Please say you won't go back!”

“I have to go back Dobby. A lot of people are counting on me.”

“Then Harry Potter leaves Dobby no choice,” said the elf sadly. Before Harry could do anything,
Dobby darted out the bedroom door and sprinted down the stairs.

Harry felt himself grow cold as he remembered the consequences of last time Dobby had pulled
this trick. He raced down after the elf and jumped down the last six steps, landing as silently as
he could on the hall carpet and made his way silently to the kitchen. He felt ill as he say
Petunia's mountain of crème and sugared violets floating near the ceiling, right above Mrs.
Mason's head.

“No!” Harry hissed and Dobby gave him a sad look.

“Harry Potter must say he's not going back to school-” Dobby begged.

“I can't.” Harry replied as he looked at the pudding with dread. Dobby had a gloomy look
upon his face as he replied,

“Then Dobby must do it sit, for Harry Potter's own good.”

The pudding began to fell and Harry felt his heart nearly stop and in his mind, fro he could not
risk his relatives hearing him, he gave a loud cry of STOP!

And the pudding stopped in mid air, only a foot above Mrs. Mason's head. Both he and Dobby
stared at the pudding in surprise and Dobby made a gesture with his hand. Harry felt as if
something was pressing down on his mind and with a savage gesture of his own hand, the pudding
slowly began to rise back towards the ceiling.

Slowly, so agonizingly slowly, the pudding began to move back towards the kitchen, Dobby
fighting him every inch of the way. Finally the beautiful creation landed on the kitchen counter
and Harry narrowed his eyes,

“*Stay*,” he hissed and though the pudding trembled as Dobby attempted to move it back
towards the ceiling, it remained on the kitchen counter.

“Dobby, I promise that I'll be okay. I know about what's coming. Just trust me.” Harry
pleaded with the elf.

“Harry Potter sir-” Dobby began but then the small elf got a far look in his eye and he
cringed.

“What's the matter?” Harry asked and Dobby looked up at him with tears in his eyes,

“Dobby's family is calling him.” The elf replied and with a sharp crack, the house elf
disappeared. Harry suddenly felt exhausted and barely made it back to his room where he then
collapsed onto his bed and fell asleep almost before his head hit his pillow.

-->



4. To the Burrow
----------------



If I owned Harry Potter then Harry would have gotten with Hermione and many other things would
have happened. I don't so they didn't. And just to let ya'll know, this is also posted
on FFN where I go by the name of Kittydemon18

************************************************************************

The next morning, Harry woke up feeling as if he had just dueled Dumbledore, Voldemort and both
of their organizations at once. His head was pounding, his arms wouldn't do anything other than
flop, and he was pretty certain that his stomach was about to stage a revolt against the rest of
his body.

He groaned as the sun hit his eyes and buried his head into his poor, thin excuse of a pillow as
his rebellious mind frantically replayed all that happened just the other day. In shock, he sat
straight up in his bed and instantly wished he had not as exhaustion swept over him but even that
was not enough to make him fall back asleep this time. No, his mind was too busy.

He had died.

For some reason it had not hit him until now, but he had died. And not only that, he had
consciously used wandless magic just the other day. His eyes immediately went to his door and to
his surprise, there were no locks. There were no locks, no cat flap and no bars on the window and,
he reached up to his cheek and pulled off the key that had stuck to his face due to a combination
of pressure and drool. He had the key to Hedwig's cage. He stared at the key and tried to
remember the feeling he had last night, the fear, the anger, the pure desperation and the overall
want. He tried to recapture whatever it had been that had caused the pudding to not fall all over
the place and further ruin his already pathetic life but he was just too tired. The key stayed
where it was.

Harry sighed and then noticed that there was still some bread on his plate from the night
before. His stomach growled loudly and in the blink of an eye he had wolfed down the tiny scrap of
bread. The small it of food only served to remind him how hungry he was. Wearily he literally
rolled out of bed and tried to stand despite his legs feeling like water. Eventually, with his bed
frame holding him steady, he was able to stand and a little later he walked to Hedwig's cage
and opened it.

“Just fly around my room for now girl. I need to write a few letters before I let you go.” Harry
whispered to the bird, too tired to say much else. Hedwig nipped at his fingers and joyfully began
to fly around the room.

Harry then stumbled down the stairs, trying not to collapse. Eventually he finally made it to
the kitchen where his aunt Petunia was happily cooking something at the stove that had Harry's
stomach rumbling. She heard it and shot a look at him that was, not nice, but it wasn't her
usual expression either.

“Good, sit down and I'll get breakfast on the table.” Harry did as he was told but he did
say,

“Didn't you want me to do that?” Now Petunia did scowl at him.

“You look sick and I'm not going to let you ruin this day. Sit and eat and then go back to
bed. You're of no good around the house when you're sick.” The young wizard poked as his
food suspiciously but quickly hunger overrode his paranoia and he devoured every scrap he was
given.

When he had finished, Vernon and Dudley entered the room and Vernon had a happy look on his
face. Harry tried not to flinch. The last time he had seen such a look on his uncle's face, he
had spent three days locked in his room and nearly starved to death.

“Well everyone, its official, Mr. Mason is going to sign a contract with Grunnings and I'll
be getting a promotion before the month is over!” he glanced over at Harry and for a moment Harry
had a hard time placing his expression before he realized that his uncle was actually smiling at
him.

“We're going to go out and start getting things ready for our vacation home. You boy,”
Vernon began and Petunia cleared her throat and gave Vernon a look. Vernon's smile lost some of
its force and over all creepiness as he continued,

“You look awful so you'll stay inside and do whatever chores your aunt leaves for you. No
freakishness or you'll be out on the streets!” Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously but he
nodded, too tired to try to figure out why on earth his relatives were actually being, well, nice
wasn't the word, but they definitely weren't being themselves. Harry felt just energized
enough to crawl back to his room where he again fell asleep.

When he woke up, the house was completely silent. Carefully Harry sat up and realized that he no
longer felt like he was about to collapse, and he was hungry again. He slowly crept out of his
room, pausing when he felt dizzy, until he finally made it downstairs. The Dursleys were no where
in site and Harry sighed in relief. Vernon had been serious about taking the rest to pick out
things for a vacation home. As quickly as he could, the young wizard began to put together a thick
sandwich and putting together a small supply of non perishable food to keep in his room.

“If only I had thought of this ages ago.” Harry murmured before he took a bite of his food, “I
probably wouldn't have been so short.” He quickly devoured everything on his plate and tried to
figure out why he had been so exhausted. He sighed and began to clean his dishes so Petunia
wouldn't find any evidence of his meal. But as he took his plate and cup to the sink, he
accidentally brushed against an ugly vase that Petunia had hidden in the kitchen. It had been a
gift from Marge so Vernon usually insisted that Petunia keep it in plain site but apparently last
night had been an exception. It began to fall to the ground and Harry knew at once that he was too
far away to catch it.

“No!” Harry cried out, knowing he would be in trouble if it broke. Then, to his amazement, the
vase stopped in mid air. He frowned and his attention wandered from the vase for a moment, just
long enough for it to start falling again.

“Stop that!” he snapped and his eyes widened as the vase seemed to obey him. It froze just
inches above the floor and when Harry only stared at it for a minute it wiggled slightly, as if it
was impatient.

“Back on the counter, and don't fall again.” Harry commanded and he nearly laughed when the
vase did exactly as he ordered. He shook his head and looked at the ceiling,

“So that's one of the gifts? The power to boss around pudding and vases?” he rolled his
eyes, “Great going Mina.” He said dryly before he tried to figure out why he could lift the vase
but not the key.

It took him the better part of an hour, just as he finished the few chores Petunia had left,
when he realized why he hadn't been able to lift the key. He had been too tired. It had been a
trial that morning to get down the stairs, much less levitate anything, even something as small as
a key.

With the chores completed, and the Dursleys still not back from their trip, Harry took the
opportunity to rest and then once again attempted to move the key. This time the key lifted into
the air and moved wherever Harry mentally pushed it. After an hour, he once more found himself
exhausted. He scowled but fell asleep for the rest of the day, too tired to do anything else.

For the next three days Harry avoided the Dursleys as he attempted to get the hang of his
ability to make things fly around without a wand and stick to wherever he ordered them to stick.
Vernon had still been unable to move the vase from the kitchen back to its place of honor on the
mantelpiece. Harry had been sent to his room as punishment but Petunia had given him a slightly
larger than usual portion for dinner each night.

On the third night he had fallen into a fairly peaceful sleep, the first since he had returned
to this time, when he was jarred out of his dreams by a rattling of glass.

He opened his eyes. Moonlight was shining through the window and there was someone staring at
him: a freckled face, red haired, long nosed someone.

Ron was outside of his bedroom window.

“Ron!” Harry smiled as he stood up, “So what took you so long?”

“Well we'd be here sooner mate but you never asked. Actually you never wrote at all,
what's the deal?” Ron replied, looking miffed as Harry began to gather his things together.

“It's a long story. Fred, George, all my things are locked in the cupboard under the
stairs…” Harry began and the twins shared mischievous smiles.

“Not a problem Harry.” Fred said smoothly as he and George slipped into the room, silent as
shadows.

“We'll be back in a jiff.” George added.

“Thanks, and be careful, the bottom stair creeks.” Harry warned them. In about ten minutes, the
twins returned and, with Harry's help, they began to shove the trunk through the window.

Then Harry heard Vernon cough.

The boy who lived froze for a moment before he redoubled his efforts to get the trunk through
the window. His experiments over the past few days had taught him that he couldn't lift
anything much heavier than a few textbooks without collapsing for the rest of the day so he
didn't even bother trying to move the trunk wandlessly but he knew he had to hurry. With a
final shove, Harry and the twins got the trunk through the window just as Vernon coughed again.

In a flash the three young wizards were through the window themselves and flying off into the
night with the Dursleys none the wiser. Harry grinned as he tried to imagine their reaction to his
disappearance.

“So, what's the story?” Ron demanded, “What's been happening?”

As they flew, Harry explained what Dobby had done, leaving out his new talent for wandless
levitation and the fact that he knew who Dobby belonged to.

“Very fishy,” said Fred finally.

“Definitely dodgy,” agreed George. “So he wouldn't even tell you who's supposed to be
plotting this stuff?”

“Unless his masters give him permission I don't think he could tell me anything. Apparently
he'll have to shut his ears in an oven for coming to see me at all.”

He saw Fred and George look at each other but since he was fairly certain that he knew what they
were thinking he didn't ask.

“I'm pretty sure he belonged to the Malfoys, I can't think of another pureblood family
with a grudge against me that's rich enough to have a house elf, well a family with a grudge
that's not in Azkaban.”

“I'm glad we came to get you, anyway,” Ron declared. “I was getting really worried when you
didn't answer any of my letters. I thought it was Errol's fault at first. He's ancient
and it wouldn't be the first time that he'd collapse on delivery. So then I tried to borrow
Hermes but Percy wouldn't let me use him, said he needed him.”

“Percy's been acting very oddly this summer,” George commented with a frown. “And he had
been sending a lot of letters and spending a load of time shut up in his room…I mean, there's
only so many times you can polish a prefect badge…You're driving too far west, Fred,” he added,
pointing at a compass on the dashboard. Fred turned the steering wheel and Harry grinned.

“Ask him about Penelope Clearwater.” The twins and Ron looked at him with surprise,

“You mean the Ravenclaw girl?” Harry nodded.

“You sure?” Fred asked and Harry nodded again,

“I have a hunch.” He told them and the twins shrugged,

“Couldn't hurt.” George began.

“Yeah, even if Harry's wrong,”

“We can still tease him about having a girlfriend.”

“So your mom doesn't know about this, right?” Harry asked, hoping they would be able to
avoid Molly's lecture.

“Er, no,” said Ron sheepishly, “Hopefully we'll be able to get it back in the garage without
Mum noticing it.”

“That's the main road.” George announced, “We'll be there in about ten minutes, just as
well, it's getting light.”

“A faint, pinkish glow was visible along the horizon of the east. Harry sincerely hoped that the
rest of the Weasleys were still in bed.

Fred brought the car lowed, and Harry saw a familiar, dark patchwork of fields and clumps of
trees.

“We're a little way outside the village,” said George. “Ottery St. Catchpole.”

Lower and lower went the flying car. The edges of a brilliant red sun was now gleaming through
the trees and Harry could see the silhouette of the burrow.

“Touch down!” Fred crowed with a slight bump as they hit the ground. They had landed next to a
tumbledown garage in a small yard, and Harry looked with a sigh of happiness at the Burrow, the
only place other than Hogwarts where he had felt at home.

“It's not much,” Ron mumbled and Harry shook his head,

“It's wonderful!” Harry declared as they got out of the car.

“Now, we'll go upstairs really quietly,” whispered Fred, “and wait for Mum to call us for
breakfast. Then, Ron, you come bounding down the stairs going, `Mum, look who turned up in the
night!'” Ron glared at Fred's high pitched imitation of his voice, “She'll be all
pleased to see Harry and no one will ever knew that we flew the car.”

“Right,” said Ron, “Come on Harry, I sleep at the…”

Ron had gone a nasty greenish color, his eyes fixed on the house. Harry winced as he remembered
the last time Ron had turned that color and slowly he turned around with the twins to see the
enraged Molly Weasley.

“Ah,” Fred said.

“Oh dear,” George added.

Mrs. Weasley stopped in front of them with a furious look on her face and her hands on her hips.
Harry was only slightly relieved by the fact that she wasn't holding her wand.

“Do you have any idea how worried I've been?” said Mrs. Weasley in a chilling whisper.

“Sorry Mum but we had to”

All three of the Weasley boys were taller than their mother yet they cowered before her. Harry
found this very amusing as Mrs. Weasley began to pick up steam.

“*Beds empty! No note! Car Gone, you could have crashed! I was out of my mind with worry, did
you care? Never as long as I've lived, just wait until your father gets home, we never had
trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy”*

“Perfect Percy,” Fred muttered and Harry felt a shot of cold hatred rush through him as he
thought of the boy who had spurned his family.

“YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAV OUT OF PERCY'S BOOK!” yelled the Weasley matriarch as she
poked Fred in the chest, “You could have died, you could have been seen, you could have lost your
father his job!”

It seemed to go on for hours yet no matter how much she yelled, all Harry could think of was how
happy he was to be back.

-->



5. A Day at the Burrow
----------------------



I love portkey, you guys are all so nice and just plain awesome! Also, I don't own Harry
Potter or anyone else that you recognize. All I've got is Mina, Jim, Bob, Fate and a couple of
t-shirts

************************************************************************

It seemed to go on for hours yet no matter how much she yelled, all Harry could think of was how
happy he was to be back.

Finally Mrs. Weasley felt that her sons had been suitably lectured and she turned to Harry,

“I'm very pleased to see you, Harry, dear,” she said, her voice calm and sweet, as if she
had not been yelling for the past hour. “Come in and have some breakfast.”

She turned and walked back into the house with Harry, Ron and the twins fast on her heels.

Harry took a deep breath as he entered the familiar walls of the Burrow. It seemed bigger to him
for just a moment and he smiled ruefully as he remembered that he was smaller. He blinked and
stopped for just a moment as shock over came him once he had overcome the feelings of
nostalgia.

Peter Pettigrew was upstairs.

It took all of his self control not to rush up the stairs immediately but a thought struck him
before he could even begin to ask Mrs. Weasley of he could put his things away.

What was he going to do? He didn't know the spell to reveal Pettigrew as an animagus and
even if he did, he would get in trouble for deliberately casting a spell. And if somehow he could
convince Mr. or Mrs. Weasley to cast it on Scabbers, what then? Peter Pettigrew was still
considered a hero for attempting to take down Sirius and he could talk his way into remaining free
easily enough. As far as he knew, Sirius was the only other person in the world who knew that Peter
had been the true secret keeper. Harry growled slightly as Mrs. Weasley began to push food at him.
If only he had been brought back when he was younger, then he could have `accidentally' used
magic to reveal Peter.

As he tried to figure out this dilemma he missed everything the Weasleys said until a small, red
haired figure in a long nightdress, appeared in the kitchen, gave a squeal and ran out again. Harry
stared after where she had been and wondered why he didn't feel the same overwhelming feeling
he always got when he saw her.

“My sister, Ginny,” Ron explained unnecessarily in an undertone, “She's been talking about
you all summer.”

“Yeah, she'll be wanting your autograph, Harry.” Fred joked but Mrs. Weasley caught his eye
and nothing more was said between the four. Harry frowned slightly, trying to ignore how
uncomfortable he felt about the idea of Ginny of all people wanting his autograph.

“Blimey, I'm tired,” yawned Fred, setting down his knife and fork at last. “I think I'll
go to bed and-”

“You will not,” Mrs. Weasley snapped instantly. “It's your own fault you've been up all
night. You're going to de-gnome the garden for me; they're getting completely out of hand
again-”

“Oh, Mum” Ron began to whine but he snapped his mouth shut quickly when Mrs. Weasley turned her
gaze on him.

“And both of you will be helping,” she added, glaring at Ron and George. “You can go up to bed,
dear,” she added to Harry. “You didn't ask them to fly that wretched car-”

Harry took a moment to decide what to do. He wanted more than anything to go upstairs and
convince the traitor to confess the truth thanks to a bit of slow torture and anything he could
think of but he had no way of knowing whether or not his new ability to make things fly around and
stick to things would work on a living creature and it would be a bad thing to find out when doing
something as important as trying to free Sirius. Then an idea came to him and he smiled
slightly.

“I'll help Ron. I've never seen a de-gnoming before.” Harry lied quickly and Mrs.
Weasley smiled.

“That's very sweet of you, dear, but it's dull work” she replied. “Now, let's see
what Lockhart's got to say on the subject.” She continued and Harry grimaced as she pulled a
heavy book from the stack on the mantelpiece. George groaned,

“Mum, we know how to de-gnome a garden.” Harry glared at the cover of Mrs. Weasley's copy of
Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests.

“Oh, he is marvelous,” the Weasley matriarch sighed. “He knows his household pests all right,
it's a wonderful book…” Harry wondered how many people Lockhart had interviewed and
subsequently oblivated to get the information for that particular book as he remembered the trouble
that the self absorbed man had with creatures as small as Cornish pixies.

“Mum *fancies* him,” Fred stage whispered.

“Don't be so ridiculous, Fred,” said Mrs. Weasley, her cheeks rather pink. “All right, if
you think you know better than Lockhart, you can go and get on with it, and woe betide you if
there's a single gnome in that garden when I come to inspect.”

Yawning, grumbling and plotting, the Weasleys and Harry marched into the garden which made Harry
smile at the mess that had been quite a bit of trouble to clear up in time for the wedding
reception. He ignored Ron's instructions about de-gnoming and soon the air was filled with the
little potato head creatures. When Harry tossed them as far as he could normally he would then
concentrate on the gnome and do his best to make the little creature fling even further away.

When the Weasley brothers were not paying attention, Harry would slow down the gnome's
descent and through his experiments he discovered that he could not affect anything that was too
far away and that when he froze a living creature with his wandless magic, it would start to
suffocate. The first time he realized this, he had panicked and he had almost sworn off using these
new powers completely. But as he remembered the death's of Sirius and Dumbledore, he bit back
his horror at almost killing and instead concentrated on seeing how far his magic could affect the
gnomes.

Then the front door slammed.

“Dad's home!” Fred announced and the four boys hurried through the garden and went back into
the house. Harry grinned brightly when he saw the tired but healthy figure of Mr. Weasley who was
slumped in a kitchen chair with his glasses off and his hand over his eyes.

“What a night,” he mumbled, oblivious to those around him as he blindly searched for the teapot.
“Nine raids! Nine! And old Mundungus Fletcher,” There was a sudden shattering of glass as one of
the windows burst into pieces and all the Weasleys sat up to stare at the window while a slight
blush appeared on Harry's cheeks. Mr. Weasley sighed,

“Boys, please don't experiment in the kitchen.” He flicked his wand and the glass flew back
together.

“Find anything Dad?” asked Fred, not bothering to declare the innocence of himself or his
brother but he did send a look over at Harry. The young wizard looked away.

“All I got were a few shrinking door keys and a biting kettle,” yawned Mr. Weasley. “There was
some pretty nasty stuff that wasn't my department, through. Mortlake was taken away for
questioning about some extremely odd ferrets but that Committee on the Experimental Charms, thank
goodness…”

“Why would anyone bother making a bunch of door keys shrink?” George asked and Mr. Weasley
sighed.

“Just Muggle-baiting,” he replied. “Sell them a key that keeps shrinking to nothing so they can
never find it when they need it and of course it's next to impossible to convict anyone since
the muggles will never admit that their keys keep shrinking. They just insist they keep loosing it,
bless them. They'll go to any lengths to ignore magic, even if it's staring them in the
face…” Harry raised a brow, wondering how that could be true when there was an entire department in
the ministry dedicated to oblivating any muggle that got too close to the secret of the wizarding
world and then he wondered if he could figure out how to enchant the Dursley's keys to shrink.
That would annoy the Dursleys and if they would unshrink around someone magical then perhaps he
could get to his things easier. Mr. Weasley went on, still oblivious to the new guest of the
Weasley house,

“But the things our lot have taken to enchanting, you wouldn't believe,”

“LIKE CARS FOR INSTANCE?” Mrs. Weasley appeared, holding a long poker, looking as if she was
preparing to perform the execution of someone. Mr. Weasley's eyes jerked up and he stared
guilty at his wife.

“C-cars, Molly, dear?” he asked weakly.

“Yes, Arthur, cars,” Mrs. Weasley growled as she swung the poker menacingly, her eyes flashing.
“Imagine a wizard buying a rusty old car and telling his wife all he wanted to do with it was taken
it apart to see how it worked, while *really* he was enchanting the car so it would fly.”

Mr. Weasley blinked and pulled nervously at his collar,

“Well, dear, I think you'll find that he would be quite within the law to do that, even it,
er, he maybe would have done better to, um, tell his wife the truth. There's a loophole in the
law, you'll find, as long as he wasn't intending to fly the car, the fact that the car
could fly wouldn't”

“Arthur Weasley, you made sure there was a loophole when you wrote that law!” snarled the
Weasley matriarch. “Just so you could carry on tinkering with all that Muggle rubbish in your shed!
And for your information, Harry arrived this morning in the car you weren't intending to
fly!”

“Harry?” asked Mr. Weasley blankly. “Harry who?” Harry tried not to wince as Mr. Weasley turned
to stare at him, his eyes flickering in that familiar way to see that yes he did indeed have the
famous scar on his forehead, before he jumped.

“Good lord, is it Harry Potter? Very pleased to meet you, Ron's told us so much about,”

“Your sons flew that car to Harry's house and back last night!” screeched Mrs. Weasley.
“What have you got to say about that?”

“Did you really?” Mr. Weasley asked eagerly. “Did it go alright? I, I mean,” he stammered as he
finally caught the outraged look on Mrs. Weasley's face, “that, that was very wrong boys, very
wrong indeed…”

“Leave them to it,” Ron muttered to Harry as Mrs. Weasley began to swell in indignation and
anger. “Come on, I'll show you my bedroom.”

They slipped out of the kitchen and made their way up to the third floor where Harry briefly
caught site of Ginny staring out at them before she closed the door with a snap.

“Ginny,” Ron said unnecessarily. “You don't know how weird it is for her to be this shy. She
never shuts up normally.” Harry nodded absently and then paused for a moment, suddenly realizing
something. He could not detect that lovely, flowery fragrance that he had come to associate with
Ginny and the Burrow. He frowned but pushed the matter into the back of his mind and quickly caught
up to Ron.

They made it up to the fifth floor until they reached the door with peeling paint and a plaque
declaring it to be Ron's room. Harry smiled as he entered the familiar orange blaze before his
eyes fell on Peter, sleeping in the sunlight. He felt his anger well up and suddenly Peter squeaked
as the tip of his tail burst into flame. To Ron it looked as though the sunlight had been magnified
by the glass of his fish tank but Harry smirked as he realized that he had a new talent. He looked
at Ron who, after dousing the flame on the rat's tail, was looking at Harry almost
nervously.

“It's a bit small,” Ron said quickly. “Not like that room you had with the muggles.”

“Dudley's spare room? Well next to the cupboard under the stairs, it's the most
convenient place in the house to imprison an underage wizard.” Harry mentioned casually and
inwardly he smirked as Ron's eyes widened. He went on as if he didn't realize what he had
just admitted to. “This house though, it's the best I've ever been in.”

Ron's ears went pink and the two boys spent the next few hours catching up on the
other's activities over the summer before challenging the twins to an impromptu game of
quidditch, the two players on each side playing every role they could. Ron and Harry gave a valiant
effort but the twins had years of experience and seamless teamwork on their side. By the time the
sun set and the game was called on account of Mrs. Weasley, the twins won 160 to 90.

That night, Harry lay in bed, staring at the ceiling for only a few minutes before he heard
Ron's rumbling snores. He smiled absently but he felt no real joy. He was so close, so close to
the man that ruined his chances of ever being normal and there was nothing he could do about
it.

He sighed and closed his eyes tightly, attempting to block out the rest of the world so he could
fall asleep but suddenly he felt strong hands grab him. A hand went over his mouth as arms picked
him up and carried him out of the room despite his struggles.

“Blimey Harry, calm down.” hissed a voice.

“It's just us.”

-->



6. In the Dark of the Night
---------------------------



Yes, Harry doesn't see Hermione in this chapter evil- no worries, he will see her soon and
there is not chance of him ever dating Ginny ever. Also, I don't own Harry Potter though I do
own Mina and I do own Harry's bracelet, it's very pretty

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

*That night, Harry lay in bed, staring at the ceiling for only a few minutes before he heard
Ron's rumbling snores. He smiled absently but he felt no real joy. He was so close, so close to
the man that ruined his chances of ever being normal and there was nothing he could do about
it.*

*He sighed and closed his eyes tightly, attempting to block out the rest of the world so he
could fall asleep but suddenly he felt strong hands grab him. A hand went over his mouth as arms
picked him up and carried him out of the room despite his struggles.*

*“Blimey Harry, calm down.” hissed a voice.*

*“It's just us.”* *Another voice added and Harry stopped struggling long enough to
see who his captors were.*

“Fred, George, what do you think you're doing?” Harry snapped and the twins both grinned as
they let him down once they were within the safety of their room. Not even Mrs. Weasley could get
near it without their notice, thanks to several conveniently squeaky boards.

“Well Harry,” Fred began.

“We were wondering the same thing about you.” George continued and his eyes narrowed,

“Like for instance, what would that pretty charm around your wrist be?”

“And why did Dung's name make you angry enough to shatter the windows?” Fred added with a
raised brow.

“And how did you use magic without a wand?”

Harry looked at the two of them, his mind racing. No one had even mentioned the bracelet until
now; he half suspected that the Dursleys couldn't even see it though he had no way of making
sure until next summer, unless his plan succeeded and he moved in with Sirius of course.

“What makes you think the window was me?” Harry asked, keeping his tone light. The twins
exchanged looks and then nodded,

“We know what Weasley magic feels like and what broke the window wasn't Weasley magic. Now,
how did you use magic without a wand?” George demanded and Harry raised a brow,

“It was just a bit of accidental magic. I've been under a bit of stress at the Dursleys.” He
lied and was surprised when the twins shook their heads.

“Once you get your wand, stuff like that is supposed to stop happening.” Fred said and Harry
frowned.

“A wand sort of binds a person's magic inside of themselves and once you start using it a
lot then your magic will always go through that path.” George explained when Harry continued to
look confused, “At least, that's how mum says its like.”

“Of course there are always exceptions, like when a wizard reaches magic maturity. Then he has
more magic than the path is used to and some spills out until everything settles down.” Fred
added.

“But that usually happens at sixteen, that's why there aren't any tests in that year, to
give you time to get used to your new magic levels.”

“The only other exceptions are the really powerful or someone who doesn't have a wand that
matches them completely.”

“Or if someone has a little help.” The twins' gaze fell upon Harry's bracelet before
they looked at him. The younger wizard sighed,

“I don't know how I'm able to do this all of a sudden.” He confessed and if he thought
about it, it was true. He had no idea why he was suddenly able to do wandless magic. In fact, he
had no idea what he was really doing. For the past three days he had been practicing his new
abilities which left him too tired to really think of anything much less plan what he was going to
do. The twins exchanged glances and Fred tapped Harry's bracelet and Harry's eyes widened
as he caught a brief line of light run from the bracelet through Fred's hand but neither
prankster seemed to notice.

“So what about this little toy then?” Harry moved his arm away from the twins before it could do
anything to George. He didn't know what the light had been but he didn't want to risk
anything.

“It's just a gift from,” he paused for a moment, “the father of an old friend.” True Jim
wasn't Mina's father and he wasn't really Mina's friend but it was an easier than
telling the twins he got it from the Grim Reaper. But apparently it didn't matter since,
judging by the looks on their faces, the twins obviously didn't believe him.

“Right, and mum was so proud of us for taking the car.” George snorted and Fred sighed,

“If we haven't made it clear Harry, we can tell what's Weasley magic and what's not
and that bracelet has some strong magic on it.” Harry's mind raced as he tried to decide what
to do. He didn't think he could make up a plausible story to trick the twins, with all the work
he had been doing with his new abilities, his mind had been too tired to think of anything he could
do to change things so far. He needed help and with Hermione not an option until he was certain he
could talk to her without anyone interfering, the twins were the next best thing. They were sneaky,
creative and they were the best he knew when it came to dealing with the unpredictable.

Briefly he considered telling Ron but that idea was discarded almost as quickly as it had come.
Ron was good at chess but that was about the limit of his planning capabilities and though he was
as brave a friend as he could ask for, but he remembered all too well the injuries that Ron had
acquired because he fought next to Harry and how jealous Ron had been because of the tournament.
When he told Ron, if he told Ron, it would have to be after the youngest Weasley male did some
growing up.

Then there was the problem of Snape and Dumbledore. Harry mentally smacked himself for
forgetting about the headmaster and the potion master's legilmancy abilities. He still
didn't have a clue about occulemency and he didn't know who to go to but he put that matter
aside for now.

“I can't tell you everything.” Harry began and when he saw the twins begin to protest, he
put up a hand,

“It's not that I don't want to, it's just that Snape or Dumbledore can do something
called legilimancy, basically they can read your minds. If I tell anyone or if they find out then
it will all be useless.” The twins exchanged furious glances,

“We always wondered how that greasy bat,” George began.

“knew about our work. This clears a few things up.” Fred finished. They looked back at the young
boy-who-lived expectantly and Harry sighed yet again.

“About two years from now, Voldemort returns. In my sixth year one of his followers murders
Dumbledore and three years after that Voldemort murders me, Ron and Hermione while we were on a
special mission.” The twins stared at him, disbelief evident in their faces.

“Harry…” Fred started but he couldn't seem to say anything and his brother was equally
reluctant to say anything.

“If you don't believe me then how else do I know that you have the marauder's map?” The
twins looked at him sharply but he ignored them and went on,

“I know about Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. How else do I know who they really are? And
how else would I know about occulemency or legilmency? I haven't even started my second year
yet and I'm not Hermione, I haven't read ahead in any book about these things.” The twins
let out identical sighs,

“All right Harry,”

“We believe you.”

“Now what do you want?” Harry took a deep breath,

“There's a basilisk in the castle. I know where it is and how to kill it so it shouldn't
be a problem. The problem is that if I don't let certain things happen then the house elf I
told you about will still belong to the Malfoys and I wouldn't wish that on anyone. I also
don't have any idea what to do with a dead basilisk and I don't want it to go to waste. The
defense teacher this year is rubbish so I'm going to try to start a sort of elite study group
but that means I won't have time to research certain things. Would you two mind helping me
figure out how to free Dobby and what to do with a basilisk corpse?” The twins grinned.

“And here we thought,”

“You'd ask us to do something hard.”

“Get back to bed Harry,”

“And leave it to us.”

“As long as,”

“You let us join in,”

“That little defense group.”

Harry laughed and nodded,

“Of course you two can join. But there's one more thing. When we get back to Hogwarts, I
need you two to make a cage large enough to hold a man about the same height as Percy but not
comfortably. It has to be absolutely unbreakable and it cannot have any opening large enough for
even Scabbers to get through.” Fred rubbed his chin and George cocked a brow.

“Are you going to tell us why you need this cage?” George finally asked and Harry shook his
head,

“This is something special. But please, I really need that cage as soon as you can get it
finished. I know that you two are the best ones qualified for making it.” He added and they rolled
their eyes.

“Well of course we can and we will do it.” Fred said.

“We'd just rather know what it's for.” George added.

“You'll find out soon enough, I promise. And thanks, you don't know how much this means
to me.” They shook hands to seal the deal, though Harry almost flinched when George accidentally
brushed against his bracelet and a small thread of light, identical to the one that had touched
Fred, ran up the Weasley prankster's arm. With that Harry slipped out of the room and into bed,
smirking slightly because now, resting up his sleeve, was the Marauder's map. He carefully
placed it inside his old transfiguration book and then got into bed. This time, with the knowledge
that he would not be doing this alone, he quickly fell into a thankfully dreamless sleep.

The next day was about the same as the first, except he discovered that his new flame based
power required a lot more mental discipline than his levitation talent. Thankfully he discovered
this by accidentally setting Peter's tail aflame yet again. He attempted to keep his temper
under control by counting to ten but it seemed to narrow his focus and instead only a smaller
portion of the rat's tail was scorched. He then resolved to just not look at him until the
twins finished the project. It was also the day they received their letters from Hogwarts and
Hermione and Harry eagerly began the countdown to Wednesday.

But on the third day Harry had been sent to call the twins down to dinner. It was then that he
caught the twins doing something that shocked him. They were making a dozen quills and several
paper airplanes fly through their room, without their wands and, just like with his own experiments
with wandless magic, there was no sign of an owl from the department of the misuse of magic.

“Harry!” George yelped and all the planes and quills fell to the ground, adding to the mess.

“I thought you two told me that wandless magic is practically impossible!” Harry snapped at them
and they exchanged guilty glances.

“Well, it is,” Fred started warily.

“But, see, ever since that night you told us about the whole, from the future thing,” George
continued,

“We've been able to do this.”

“The first time was just an accident! And we did tell you the truth!” George was quick to assure
Harry. Harry glanced at his bracelet briefly and frowned, wondering what other things the gift
could do.

“Well, it's time for dinner. Afterwards, show me what you can do, and then maybe we can
practice together.” The twins agreed and they all went downstairs to eat one of Mrs. Weasley's
meals.

During the meal, Harry would glance at Ginny but he did not get the same overwhelming feeling in
his chest that he used to get around her. He could not detect that delicate flowery fragrance and
Ginny was just not important in his mind. In fact, he had not thought of her at all since she had
run away at breakfast when he first arrived.

He ignored the unsettled feeling he was getting now and quickly ate as much as he could before
he ran off to join the twins, promising Ron that he would play chess with him after he talked with
them.

They spent a few minutes showing off before Ron's impatience and his jealousy that his
friend was being hogged by his brothers overcame him and the youngest Weasley brother came and
dragged Harry away. As soon as Ron was asleep Harry snuck out of the room and he and the twins
practiced their new magic. Neither of them was able to create a flame like Harry but they
discovered that they could talk to each other telepathically.

The training was a good distraction and afterwards Harry would immediately fall asleep but no
matter how hard he worked or studied or tried to concentrate on the games that Ron wanted to play
with him, he could not keep reminding himself that it was getting closer and closer to Wednesday,
closer and closer to the day that he would see Hermione again.

-->



7. In which they go shopping
----------------------------



If I did own Harry Potter then Remus, Tonks, Fred and Sirius would all be alive, Hermione would
have gotten with Harry, Ginny would have been sent to South Africa or something, and Luna would
have become the minister of magic. Since none of this happened, I obviously don't own Harry
Potter. I also didn't think up the challenge, blame reptilia28 for it


IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

No matter how tired Harry was after the training he and the twins went through, it wasn't
enough to keep his mind off of Wednesday, the day he would see Hermione again. Finally the
anticipated day came and he found it incredibly difficult to listen to Mrs. Weasley's useless
instructions but the twins had warned him not to give himself away by knowing too much. Hermione
could get away with it and possibly the twins but he had not added `bookworm' to the list of
things to describe himself with.

He watched as the twins and Ron disappeared through the emerald green flames before he calmly
took a pinch of the powder himself and threw it into the flames.

“Diagon Alley!” he shouted clearly as he entered and while he spun through the system he
wondered how on earth he could have been mistaken for knockturn alley the first time.

But before he could dwell on that question for very long, Harry found himself tumbling out the
fireplace and into the Leaky Cauldron.

“Thought we lost you for a moment there Harry.” Fred laughed as Harry picked himself off the
floor and began to dust himself off.

“Don't bother.” George flicked his wand and Harry found that all the ash and soot had
disappeared.

“Why didn't you do that for me?” Ron whined as Harry scanned the entrances for any owl from
the ministry. When there were none to be seen he turned to George,

“How did you do that without the ministry catching you for underage magic?” Harry demanded and
the twins shared a mischievous grin.

“Well young Potter, in a place as filled with magic as Diagon Alley,” George began as he slung
an arm around Harry's shoulders.

“There's absolutely no way for the Ministry to tell who is casting the spell.” Fred finished
as he slung his arm around Harry's shoulders from the other side and they began to march away
with the boy-who-lived with Ron trailing sullenly after then and Mrs. Weasley glaring
disapprovingly while Ginny hid behind her skirts.

“Boys, go towards Gringotts!” Mrs. Weasley shouted after them and the twins waved an arm in
acknowledgement and began to lead Harry towards the marble bank.

“So I can cast all the magic I want in Diagon Alley?” Harry asked to clarify matters. The twins
nodded,

“And we can cast spells at home because mum, dad, Bill and Charlie live there, on and off for
our brothers of course, but the Ministry has them listed as living with us.” George explained and
Harry frowned,

“So, anyone with a wizard of age living with them won't get penalized for underage magic?”
He temporarily ignored the fact that the Ministry probably had every witch and wizard
registered.

“Now you're getting it!” Fred grinned, “Of course, we haven't exactly clued in mum that
we know so we'd appreciate it if you didn't mention it.”

“Of course not, but this means that muggleborns fall way behind on the practical portion because
they can't practice. That's not fair!”

“Well of course it's not fair; a bloody Malfoy wrote the law. Dad's been trying to get
it fixed for ages but he's got enough on his plate without getting on Malfoy's really bad
side.”

“Not that he has any other side.” Fred muttered darkly.

“Yes he does, he has the really bad side and the slimy yellow bellied side.” Harry replied while
he tucked an idea in the back of his mind and the twins grinned.

“Truly a son of a Marauder this one is.” George declared proudly.

“And by the way, I hope you don't mind us borrowing the map every once in awhile.” Fred
glanced at Harry who looked at him with innocent eyes.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” The twins laughed and they continued walking
through Diagon Alley when suddenly a brown blur hurled itself at Harry and had it not been for the
twins he would probably have fallen over.

“Harry!” the blur squealed and Harry smiled as he returned the hug of his best friend, Hermione
Granger. Hermione had stopped hugging him as much as they grew older and had almost forgotten how
good this felt. As he hugged her, he did not notice when his bracelet managed to touch the back of
Hermione's neck and, just like with the twins, a small thread of light jumped from the gift and
into Hermione.

“It's good to see you too Hermione.” She released him from the hug and a stern look appeared
on her twelve year old face.

“Harry Potter! You never answered any letter and I know I sent you several at the Burrow! How
have you bee? Did the Dursleys treat you alright?” Harry laughed,

“I'm sorry Hermione, I meant to write but something came up. I'll tell you more about it
later. The Dursleys treated me better than they ever have before.” He chuckled again, “It's
probably because I never got around to telling them that I can't use magic outside of
school.”

“Hey, I'm here too!” Ron snapped and Hermione looked around the twins and saw their third
friend.

“Sorry Ron, I didn't see you.” Hermione replied and she began to walk along side Fred as
they made their way into Gringotts.

The instant they entered, two armed goblins took Harry from the Weasley twins grasp and began to
lead him away.

“Hey!” Harry called out and he tried to struggle but it was no use. Despite them being smaller
they were significantly stronger than him.

“Harry!” Hermione called out and then she barked a strange phrase and the two goblins stopped to
stare at her. One of them replied in the same gravelly language and Hermione hesitated and then
replied though this time Harry understood that Hermione was saying her name. They let him go.

“We apologize for our rough treatment Mr. Potter but Bank Manager Ragnok was most insistent that
you are to be brought to him immediately.” One of the goblin guards explain.

“If you had asked I would have come without putting up a fight.” Harry mentioned as Mrs. Weasley
came bustling up to them.

“You get your filthy hands off of him right now!” she shrieked and tried to take Harry from the
two goblins but they were adamant in keeping their charge.

“Mrs. Weasley, it's okay, I've apparently been invited to see the Bank Manager. I'll
be right back.” At this the Weasley matriarch seemed to settle down a bit.

“Well alright then Harry dear, just give me your key and I'll start taking care of getting
your school things while you're in the meeting. Ginny, this is a valuable opportunity; you can
go and see the meeting.” Harry noticed the goblins' eyes narrow at Mrs. Weasley's
declaration.

“Mrs. Weasley, Ginny wasn't invited to the meeting so I think its best she stays with you
and I'll keep my key thanks. I don't want to trouble you and I'm sure this won't
take long.” Harry said quickly, partially because he didn't want the goblins to get angry and
partially because he didn't want to get too close to Ginny this time around. He realized now
that he practically put a target on her back by dating her and even if she hadn't been his
girlfriend, she was still Ron's sister, he had a duty to keep her safe. Before Mrs. Weasley
could protest one of the goblins said,

“Mr. Potter is correct; your female spawn is not invited to this meeting.” He turned slightly
towards Hermione,

“However, Mr. Potter is allowed to bring one *trusted* person with him.” This caused Mrs.
Weasley to smile,

“Well then, I'm sure we wouldn't want to keep Mr. Ragnok waiting, come along Harry,
Ginny.” Again the goblins narrowed their eyes.

“An invitation is required Madame before you can be allowed to accompany Mr. Potter.” The goblin
on Harry's left drawled and Mrs. Weasley turned slightly red.

“Well then, Harry, dear, I suppose I need your invitation.” Harry looked at her carefully. There
was something strange in her eyes and he then looked at the goblins who stared at Mrs. Weasley with
disapproval and open dislike.

“Hermione, would you like to accompany me?” asked Harry impulsively. Hermione brightened with
pleasure,

“I would be honored.” They were quickly escorted away as Mrs. Weasley stared after them with a
gob smacked expression on her face and scowls appeared on Ron and Ginny's faces.

“Be careful Harry.” George called out as they left.

“We'll see you later!” Fred added cheerfully and he and his brother began to pull their
shocked mother and siblings away so they could go down to the Weasley vault.

As they walked with the goblins on either side of them Harry suddenly realized something.

“How long have you known gobblygook?” he asked and Hermione blushed slightly.

“Well, after my parents and I found out about Gringotts, I wanted to find out a bit more about
the Goblin nation. Professor Binns doesn't really cover much besides the wars and all the best
books about their culture were written in gobbledygook. I'm not very good yet.” One of the
goblins coughed to get their attention. They looked and realized they were apparently at their
destination.

“Sorry,” he looked at the door, “So we just go in then?” The goblins both nodded and Harry
sighed and opened the door.

The office was much lighter than Harry expected it to be and as soon as Hermione slipped in
behind him the two goblin guards shut the door.

Sitting at a huge desk was a pale looking goblin who began to shake when he caught sight of
Harry's bracelet.

“Take a seat.” Ragnok said and both of the young Hogwarts students did as he said.

“Mr. Potter, it has been brought to my attention that there has been a great amount of severe
mishandling with your family's fortune. If you would allow it, I would like to offer that we
perform a special ritual so we may see the extent of the damage. Harry glanced over at Hermione who
seemed incredibly eager.

“Well, alright but please call me Harry.” The goblin raised a brow before he took an ornate
golden dagger, a pot of ink and a beautiful white quill out of a drawer in his desk.

“Please add a few drops of blood to the ink and the ritual can begin. Ms. Granger, I believe
your assistance would be useful. When I nod please use the Goblin word for truth. It is,” he began
but Hermione interrupted,

“Thank you sir, but I know the word already.” The goblin leader looked vaguely skeptical but
nodded.

“If you would begin then?” Harry and Hermione both nodded and Harry took the knife. Quickly he
pricked his thumb and squeezed it until three drops of blood fell into the ink. While he was doing
this, Ragnok was chanting something that Harry could not understand. When the goblin looked at
Hermione she quickly barked a strange word and the quill began to glow. It suddenly jumped up and
dipped itself into the ink and began to write on the parchment that Ragnok had set out. Harry and
Hermione both watched with interest as the names appeared. Finally the quill set itself back down
and Ragnok picked up the parchment and began to read aloud,

“Potter, Gryffindor, Treves, Hernalth, Navarre, Ballard, Cooper, Trebond, Fletcher, Huntington,
Vimes, Knight, and Peverell, all very good names and most of them have not been touched for a very
long time. You are lucky you've claimed them now. Another year and all but the Gryffindor and
the Potter vaults would have belonged to us.” He put the paper down, “I suppose this goes without
saying but you are now extremely wealthy and, unlike the Potter vaults, you do not have to be of
age to gain full access to them.” He took a box from one of his drawers and tapped the box with the
list of names three times while mumbling something that Harry couldn't catch. When he opened
the box there was a rather elaborate looking gold ring with a crest made of a silvery bird on a
clear crystal.

“Put this on your right hand and just rub it when you need to use it for a different family.
Right now the Treves family crest is the default setting.” He took a deep breath and then continued
in an almost pained voice,

“I have also been reminded by an interested party of a particular law declaring all vaults
belonging to any prisoner of Azkaban who has been declared guilty by a trial of their peers is to
be transferred to the ownership of the nearest relative who comes forth to claim it. Mr. Potter,
you are related to the Lestrange family, all of whom reside in Azkaban. If you wish, you may take
their vaults and all their contents and the aforementioned party very much desires you take
advantage of this.”

“Who is this interested party? And who exactly are the Lestranges?” Hermione asked suddenly
before Harry could answer about the Lestrange vault. A guarded look appeared on Ragnok's face
before he answered,

“The interested party wishes to remain anonymous though they do wish that I emphasize that they
do not desire to harm Mr. Potter or his associates and they wish for me to notify you that one of
their representatives will be visiting you soon. Now, will you take the vault?” He looked just a
hair away from being desperate for Harry to agree. Harry wondered briefly why the goblin seemed so
anxious as he tried to quell the familiar rage against Bellatrix that was building in his chest. He
grinned and agreed to take the vault before Hermione could say anything else. Ragnok smiled
slightly,

“Please put another drop of your blood onto the list Mr. Potter and I will take care of the
rest.” Harry took the offered dagger and once again allowed a few drops of his blood to be spilt.
Ragnok made a few gestures over the list and his blood flashed for a moment before it formed the
Lestrange name at the end of the list.

“Very good Mr. Potter and if you will follow your escorts, they will bring you to your
accountant. Ms. Granger-”

“I'd like to stay with Harry, if that's alright with you of course Harry.” Hermione cut
in quickly. Harry smiled,

“Of course, just tell your parents where you'll be and Ragnok, please, just call me Harry.”
Ragnok again raised a brow before he said,

“I will have Ms. Granger's parents notified.” With that the two left and were again led
through the twisting passages by the two goblin guards. Hermione finally decided to ask,

“So, what are your names?” Neither goblins' expression changed but the one on Harry's
side did answer,

“I am Draklon.” The other goblin refused to speak and Draklon would say no more no matter what
Hermione tried.

Finally they reached the second office and the goblin in there, Fanghook, seemed positively to
inform Harry everything about his holdings, something that rather disconcerted the time traveling
wizard.

“…19 journals, 85 moonstones, 39 opals, 50 beryls and a pile of cloth of undetermined origin. In
the Lestrange vault one golden goblet valued at 50 million galleons for having once belonged to the
founder Helga Hufflepuff, 23 cursed necklaces,”

“What did you say about a goblet?” Harry broke in before Fanghook could go any further.

“In the Lestrange vault which you now own there is one golden goblet that is valued at 50
million galleons because it once belonged to one Helga Hufflepuff.” Harry sat up straight,

“Can it be brought here please?” he asked, completely forgetting that Hermione was there. His
best friend narrowed her eyes but said nothing.

“Ye-es,” the goblin agreed rather reluctantly, “Would there be anything else you need Mr.
Potter?”

“First, please call me Harry. Second, is there anyway for me to access my money without carrying
around a heavy bag? And is there anyway that I could use in the muggle world as well?”

“We can set up a debit card for you right now, which will work in the muggle and magic world and
you will be owled monthly bank statements.” He pulled out a small piece of plastic from his
desk.

“Two drops of blood on this please and the goblet will be brought up momentarily.” Harry sighed
slightly and once again allowed his blood to be spilt. It sank into the card and spread, changing
colors as it went until it looked like a real credit card. There was a knock at the door and then
another goblin carrying a black box came into the room.

“The goblet Mr. Potter.”

“Thank you, and it's just Harry.” Harry replied and he opened the box and there it was the
very same goblet as the one he had seen in the pensieve with Dumbledore. He reached into his pocket
and pulled out the box that Mina had given him, ignoring the questioning look that Hermione shot
him. Then he took the goblet and put it into the box and that was that. He finished up with
Fanghook and left with Hermione. A small bag of money was jingling at his side, the card was in his
pocket with the box and Hermione carried a small pile of journals that Fanghook insisted he take.
He had glanced through one after agreeing to take them and discovered they were in a completely
different language and frowned. Then Hermione caught site of them and her eyes widened.

“I've never seen a language like that before!” she gasped and tried to look at the journal
over Harry's shoulder. Harry grinned slightly and handed the book to her. Hermione eagerly
began to flip through the pages.

“This is fascinating!” Hermione declared as she looked at the journals, “Harry, do you think
that I could take a look at these? I want to take a crack at translating them, but only if you
don't mind.”

“If course you can try to translate them Hermione.” Harry agreed and he took her hand and they
left the goblins, the books in tow.

Once they reached the main room they found yet another goblin waiting with what he claimed were
his parents' school trunks, complete with robes, books and other odds and ends. Before Harry
could get the chance to look through them properly, Mrs. Weasley appeared and began to drag them
off.

“I don't know what those goblins were thinking!” Mrs. Weasley growled as she pulled the two
towards the bookstore. The twins looked apologetic while Ron was still grumpy and Ginny
couldn't look at him without turning red. Hermione was strangely silent as Mrs. Weasley
continued to rant about the goblins and how Harry had not thought to bring a responsible adult with
him to see them since they were such “devious and trick creatures who couldn't be trusted any
more than a Slytherin could be trusted”.

Harry had ignored her as they went closer and closer to the bookshop. He had a hard time not
wrenching himself from Mrs. Weasley's grasp so he could run ahead and get that cursed diary
from Malfoy Sr. before it could do any harm but Mrs. Weasley had a firm grasp on him and he could
not see Malfoy or his father.

Finally they reached the bookstore, still crowded with witches and a few wizards who all wanted
the autograph of Gilderoy Lockhart. Harry barely suppressed a groan. He had completely forgotten
about the fake.

Now he actually did try to get out of Mrs. Weasley's grasp as she pushed her way to the
front of the line to get at the books and presumably to get Lockhart's autograph and he almost
managed it but then the fake caught sight of him.

“Harry Potter!” the fake called out and everyone froze and began to look around for him and
Harry wished he had brought a baseball cap or something. The fake grabbed his arm and pulled him up
to the front.

“Nice big smile Harry,” Lockhart muttered through his smile, “Together, you and I are worth the
front page!” The photographer continued to take their picture and after a few more shots the fake
cleared his throat and began to make a speech.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said loudly, his hand heavy on Harry's shoulder. “What an
extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been
sitting on for quite some time!” Everyone became silent and Harry tried to slip away but
Lockhart's grasp was as strong as Mrs. Weasley's.

“When young Harry here stepped into this fine establishment to day, he only wanted to but my
autobiography-”

“I'm only getting them because the book list requires it. I wouldn't touch any of them
otherwise.” Harry hissed but Lockhart went on as if he had not heard though his fingers did seem to
dig into his shoulders a bit more.

“Which I shall now present to him free of charge,” the crowd applauded as Harry was handed the
heavy stack of books. “He had no idea,” Lockhart shook him slightly and Harry's glasses fell.
Had it not been for his exceptional reflexes they would probably have been broken. Harry made a
mental note to look into getting contacts.

“He had no idea,” Lockhart repeated again, “that he would shortly be getting much more than my
book *Magical Me*. He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes,
ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be
taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at the esteemed Hogwarts School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry!”

Finally Harry managed to get out of the way and he tipped the books into Ginny's
cauldron.

“Here, I can get my own.” Harry muttered though he had no intention of doing so.

“Bet you loved that, didn't you Potter?” came a sadly familiar and very irritating voice.
Harry turned wearily and answered before the pale boy could go on,

“I liked being up there about as much as you'd like living in a muggle house. I don't
want to hear it right now Malfoy, just go away.” The Slytherin looked almost surprised at the lack
of hostility in Harry's voice. Harry himself was almost surprised as well but then again when
he thought of Voldemort and Bellatrix and Peter and all they had done, Malfoy and his insults just
weren't enough to get angry over. Harry looked around casually but he didn't see
Malfoy's father. He mentally sighed and decided to ask,

“So where's your father then Malfoy? I would have thought that he'd take any opportunity
to reaffirm that he's not a death eater.” Malfoy turned pink but before he could say anything,
Ron and Hermione came up, both carrying their own copies of the Lockhart books.

“Harry, aren't you going to get your books?” Hermione asked, ignoring Malfoy completely and
the Malfoy heir's face became a brighter pink with anger.

“Don't worry about it Hermione.” Harry grinned at her and Malfoy stalked away once he saw
that no one was going to pay attention to him. Inwardly Harry frowned, where had Malfoy's
father been? He had been so sure that the elder Malfoy had given Ginny the diary here.

He ignored Mrs. Weasley's chattering and purchased two carry all bags- leather messenger
style bags both with the extension and feather light enchantment so they could carry whatever was
necessary. He gave one to Hermione, despite her protests, and then shrunk his parents' trunks
and put them inside his own bag. Hermione reluctantly put her books into the bag as well but by the
end of the shopping trip, when they were all laden with the necessary items, plus a few other
things that Harry thought he would need, she was quite relieved to have the bag. All the while
Harry's mind spun as he tried to figure out where the diary was. Dobby wouldn't have warned
him about the danger coming to the school if Malfoy Sr. had not planned to give the diary to Ginny,
unless there was something even worse on the way. Harry shuddered at the thought and then continued
to try to figure out what he was going to do now.

Before they left, Hermione pulled him aside.

“Harry, what was all that with the goblins? Why were you so desperate to get your hands on that
goblet? And what was that box that you put it into?” she demanded while her parents were being
bombarded with questions from Mr. Weasley. Harry gulped and then replied,

“I'll tell you Hermione, I promise, but not until we get to school. I don't want anyone
to overhear this.” Hermione looked skeptical but she accepted it with a sigh.

“I'll see you at school Harry and I should have at least part of this code of language of
the journals cracked by then.” She hugged him and then left to rescue her parents from the
curiosity of the Weasleys, leaving Harry to wonder why her hugs made him feel so warm.

-->



8. Train rides and sorting
--------------------------



If I owned Harry Potter then Remus or Sirius would be made the headmaster of Hogwarts and which
ever wasn't the headmaster would be the DADA teacher and deputy headmaster. If I owned Harry
Potter then Harry and Hermione would be married and probably running a detective agency together,
one that catered to both wizards and muggles and that was ridiculously successful and Hermione
would be Supreme Mugwump. If I owned Harry Potter then Luna would be minister of magic with Tonks
occasionally taking her place when she wants to go looking for some random creature. If I owned
Harry Potter then Fred would be alive and having a wonderful time with the joke shop. Since none of
this is true, obviously I don't own Harry Potter. I don't even own the idea that started
this fic, it's all reptilia28's fault


IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

*�I'll see you at school Harry and I should have at least part of this code of language of
the journals cracked by then.� She hugged him and then left to rescue her parents from the
curiosity of the Weasleys, leaving Harry to wonder why her hugs made him feel so warm.*

After the trip to the Alley, Harry began to practice his new talent for calling fire in earnest
and he worked at increasing the amount he was able to move. He felt almost desperate to do anything
he could to keep his mind off of Hermione and the journals she was trying to translate. The twins
were slightly jealous of the potential of explosions that Harry now had access to at first until
Fred discovered that he could speak to George with his mind and George could reply just as easily.
They quickly began to practice their new found telepathy at every moment, in general through
coordinating pranks. Not even Mrs. Weasley's best attempts could catch the twins red handed
anymore.

It had been an interesting experience, trying to balance his training with getting enough rest
and still talking to Ron who was growing increasingly resentful of all the time that Harry was
spending with the twins. At least getting enough food was no problem. He could easily pack away
just as much, if not more, than Ron ate each day and Mrs. Weasley seemed more than pleased to
indulge his appetite.

In the early mornings, when he found he was too restless to stay in the house but not quite
strong enough to try any of his wandless abilities, Harry had begun to run as far as he could,
pressing himself to do a little better the next day. He had also attempted to use his wand to
transfigure some of Dudley's castoffs into a suitable outfit for running and he had been both
pleased and annoyed to discover the twins were right, the Ministry couldn't detect underage
magic when he was living in an area with at least one adult witch or wizard, and he could indeed at
least temporarily transfigure Dudley's castoffs into whatever outfit he needed. Permanent
transfiguration was still beyond him so the change would wear off in about three hours but that was
more than long enough to suit Harry. Ron refused to even think of going running with him,
especially at such an early hour. Occasionally at least one of the twins would tag along but it
quickly got to the point where Harry was left alone to run.

As he ran, Harry discovered that once he got into a rhythm, his mind would become empty except
for the thought of running, just one foot after the other, over and over again. When he fell into
this sort of trance, he began to make leaps and bounds with at least beginning to build the basics
of his occulemency shields.

He also began to practice all of the magic that he could only do with his wand, mostly hexes,
jinxes and, of course, the patronus spell. So far he had only managed large amounts of silver smoke
again and it was getting frustrating. He could at least manage some of the lower level hexes and
curses and a decent shield charm but it wasn't enough. At first, in order to get more practice
time, each night when he could drag himself out of bed he would go into a nearby field and continue
to practice until he collapsed but it didn't help. But the twins objected to his practicing
alone so they began to set up traps outside Ron's room so Harry couldn't get out without
alerting one of them. The two red heads would then tag along with Harry and they would show him new
tricks and they would practice dueling in the field after Harry's run.

A few weeks later, Harry and the Weasley clan were packing everything into the family car and
Harry was getting increasingly annoyed. No matter how many times he tried, he could not summon the
diary to him. By the time they were preparing to leave Harry had reluctantly come to the conclusion
that the diary was not in the possession of any member of the Weasley clan.

Mrs. Weasley bustled around, intent on making sure that everyone was ready and Harry climbed
into the car and sat next to Ron. He felt slightly guilty for not really paying any attention to
his first friend in awhile so he drew the young Weasley into a conversation about quidditch, which
Ron promptly dominated and babbled about cheerfully, prompted occasionally by the occasional
noncommittal sound from Harry. As Ron spoke, Harry's thoughts drifted to Hermione and the
journals she had taken to decode. Why had the goblin been so insistent that Harry take the
journals? For that matter, who was the `interested party' that he had spoken about?

Too soon for Harry's liking, they arrived at King's Cross and before Harry could say
anything, everyone else rushed through the barrier and onto platform 9



9. My computer hates me
-----------------------



I'm sorry, I don't know why but somehow the last chapter got cut off and I didn't
realize it until it was too late, I don't own Harry Potter and here's the rest of what was
supposed to have been up already

Too soon for Harry's liking, they arrived at King's Cross and before Harry could say
anything, everyone else rushed through the barrier and onto platform nine and three quarters,
leaving him and Ron stuck on the other side, though Ron didn't know it yet. Before Harry could
figure out a way to warn his friend, the young red head rushed as quickly as he could towards the
wall. But since Harry was carrying both of their trunks, Ron didn't have anything to break his
impact against the wall and he nearly cracked his head open. As it was, he almost bounced away from
the wall and fell on the ground. Harry rushed over to him and tried to help him up as muggles
gathered around them, trying to see if the strange boy was okay.

“He's fine! It was just a dare!” Harry called out to the onlookers and several people,
mostly women, rolled their eyes and Harry heard quite a few murmurs of “boys!” from any of the
younger girls in the crowd. Meanwhile, Ron was regaining his senses and a look of fear appeared on
his face,

“Harry! We can't get through the barrier! The train's going to leave without us!” he
yelped as Harry thought.

Much to his embarrassment, he had not remembered this part of his second year until just before
Ron ran into the wall. He bit his lip and began to think, what had Mrs. Weasley yelled in that
howler so long ago? He glanced at the barrier out of the corner of his eye and blinked and turned
to look at it straight on. He frowned and tried looking at it out of the corner of his eye again,
and there it was!

As he looked at the wall indirectly he could see two sorts of glowing, one was a deep blue but
there was a strange web of brown overlaying it. He frowned and moved towards the wall, keeping his
eyes unfocused slightly so he could still see the colors. Tentatively he reached out and pushed
against the wall and watched as the brown web moved to keep him out. Harry narrowed his eyes and
before he knew what he was doing, he reached a sort of mental hand out to move the web until it
began to stretch. He pulled and pulled until finally, the web snapped and he was left with a
splotch of brown in his hand while the rest of the web began to unravel itself. He turned away and
absently rubbed the brown stuff onto his trunk before he turned to Ron,

“Let's give it one more go before we give up and try something else.” He suggested to the
still panicking Ron. Ron nodded and again ran full speed towards the gateway to the platform and
this time he made it. Harry's eyes narrowed slightly as he saw that now that Ron was through,
the web was quickly beginning to reform. He rushed through the barrier, just as the web closed
behind him. He let out a breath that he had not realized he had been holding and followed Ron onto
the train, not noticing that his trunk had become a good deal lighter. His thoughts were centered
on what the web could have been and what Hermione might have discovered in those journals.

An icy chill ran down his spine and he froze suddenly in front of one of the compartment doors.
What if one of the journals, or all or them, had something in them like Voldemort's journal
had? What if Hermione had been possessed? He apparently stood at the door too long because one of
the occupants opened it to see who was standing there. Harry smiled tentatively when he saw
Hermione.

“There you are! I was afraid you were going to miss the train!” Hermione chirped before he could
get a good look at her to try to figure out if the journals had done anything. She dragged him into
the compartment and Harry looked around to see Ron already sitting there with Neville, Ginny and,
Harry realized with a slight surprise, Luna Lovegood who was, as usual, reading an upside edition
of the Quibbler. Ginny immediately turned red and squeaked at the sight of him.

“I-I've gottogotothebathroom!” Ginny said in a rush and she pushed past the two of them and
disappeared almost as quickly as if she had apparated. Hermione raised a brow and Harry blushed as
she giggled.

“Harry, this is Luna Lovegood.” Hermione unnecessarily introduced the blonde girl, after she
finished laughing at Harry's embarrassment. Harry smiled while Ron rolled his eyes,

“I know who she is,” he grumbled as he took the seat next to Neville that Ginny had
discarded.

“But I didn't,” Harry lied and then he looked at Luna, “It's nice to meet you Luna.
I'm Harry.” Luna looked up from her paper and smiled back,

“Hello Harry, it's nice to meet someone who wards off riscraglers so well.”

“Yes, it comes in handy.” Harry replied lightly as he slid next to Hermione who shot him a
glance.

“Harry, I finished going through your papers. I'll give them back to you after you explain a
few things for me.” Hermione told him, her voice deceptively light as she looked at him straight in
the eye. His brow furrowed in confusion as he wondered what paper she was talking about. He had
finished all of his homework ages ago, having little better to do during his periods of exhaustion
and the times where he had forced himself to listen to Ron's inane babbling about the Canons.
Then it hit him, the journals, of course.

“You finished? That's great!” Harry exclaimed, wondering what Hermione had found in them as
a sick feeling developed in his stomach. He hoped that there was nothing in them that had hurt her,
“And I told you I'd explain when we get to school.” Hermione frowned slightly and she narrowed
her eyes but said nothing. A slightly tense silence developed in the compartment.

“Hermione, would you mind looking at my potions paper?” Neville asked, breaking the silence as
he dug through his bag to pull it out, “I don't want to give Snape any more excuses to take off
points than I have to.” Harry felt a rush of anger towards Snape but he quickly attempted to keep
his emotions under control. Snape had not killed Dumbledore, yet. He could not punish Snape for
something he didn't do this time around. That had been his mantra for quite some time and it
was working so far, sort of. Hopefully it would work when he came face to face with the murderous
overgrown bat.

“When did you give Hermione your homework Harry? And take a look at mine too, would ya?” Ron
asked and he shoved the paper at Hermione before she could say anything. She glared at him before
turning to Neville,

“Of course I'll look over your potions work.” Hermione said sweetly and she began to read
the essay.

“Here Neville, would you mind looking at my herbology essay?” Harry asked the shy boy. Neville
had been the most competent member of the DA, besides himself and Hermione, and Harry had a feeling
that he would need Neville's help and that meant building up the shy boy's confidence and
asking him to help with his homework was a good start. Hermione gave him a sharp look but before
she could say anything, the door to their compartment slid open to reveal Malfoy and his
cronies.

“Well Potter, you actually decided to come back another year?” Malfoy sneered and Harry rolled
his eyes.

“Malfoy, all your family's inbreeding has obviously affected your brain and your memory.
Just go away.” Harry sighed and watched with detached pleasure as Malfoy began to turn pink.

“My family is not inbred.” Malfoy snarled and Harry raised a brow,

“I've seen your family tree Malfoy, exactly how closely related are your parents? If I
remember right, they're second cousins, aren't they?” The pink in Malfoy's cheeks
increased and he snapped,

“Just you wait Potter; you'll regret what you've said to me.” With that the young
Slytherin left, twirling his cloak in what he probably thought was perfect for a dramatic exit.
Unfortunately he twisted his cloak just a bit too far and ended up tripping on his feet. Harry
smiled slightly as everyone else laughed while Malfoy stood up and walked away with his nose high
in the air.

Neville brought out a pack of cards and soon Harry was embroiled in a game of exploding snap
with him, Luna and Ron while Hermione read a book with a title that looked like French to Harry. As
they played, Luna asked about the sorting.

“You'll go to the house that you're suited for or you'll go to the house that you
want. If you're lucky it'll be the same place.” Harry said without thinking as he played
his next card. He looked up and saw Hermione and Neville looking at him.

“What?”

“Nothing, I've just never thought about the sorting that way.” Neville confessed as he
slapped his card down.

“Well, it is true. The hat said I was more suited to Ravenclaw but I chose Gryffindor and here I
am.” Hermione confessed and Harry smiled.

“I didn't know what I wanted, only what I thought I deserved,” Neville added, “That's
probably why the hat chose Gryffindor instead of listening to me.”

“Well, someone once told me that it's our choices, not our abilities that make up who we
become.” He glanced at the card that Neville had plated and smiled as he put his next card down and
won the game.

“Anyone for another round?” Luna shook her head,

“I think we're getting close to the castle. I'd like to change into my robes.” Hermione
nodded,

“I need to change as well. We'll be right back so you three should take the chance to change
too.” Hermione said as she grabbed Luna's arm and took the blonde girl away.

“Luna's nice.” Harry mentioned as he and Ron began to follow Hermione's advice. Neville
had already changed prior to boarding the train. The red headed boy frowned as he tugged his robes
over his head before he sat down with a huff.

“She's been completely nutters for ages, always talking about strange creatures and that
paper her dad writes, The Quibbler, is rubbish.” Harry frowned at Ron but said nothing since the
girls, except Ginny, came back into the compartment. He saw Hermione glare at Ron for a moment and
Luna's eyes were shining suspiciously but the two girls just took their seats and began to
discuss *Hogwarts: A History*.

They reached the station in a few minutes and separated from Luna as they went to take the
carriages to Hogwarts. Harry blinked as they came to the thestral drawn carriages. He turned
slightly so he could look at the carriages out of the corner of his eye. That strange brown energy
covered the wheels. He looked at Hermione and saw that she too was staring at the wheels of the
carriage. She looked back at him and her brow furrowed,

“Do you see that stuff on the wheels?” she whispered to him out of the corner of her mouth and
Harry nodded. She pinned him with a piercing look,

“You have that much more to explain Harry.” Harry smiled weakly.

“Of course Hermione.” Then the two Gryffindors turned their attention to the wheels of the
carriage.

“What are you two waiting for?” Ron called out from inside as he glared at his two friends.
Harry searched for an excuse when Hermione piped up,

“Seamus and Dean mentioned they wanted to speak to you Ron. We'll wait for the next
carriage.” Harry looked and saw his two roommates walking up to them. He grabbed onto the excuse
and added,

“She's right, and I needed to talk to Oliver about an idea anyway. We'll see you at the
feast Ron.” Harry assured him and Ron nodded reluctantly while Harry and Hermione stood aside for
Seamus and Dean. Harry watched with relief as the brown web began to melt away from the carriage
wheels until it was completely gone as the thestral began to move. Harry felt his brace pulse
slightly and he glanced at it, and then realized that it was hidden beneath his long sleeves. He
frowned slightly and then realized that Hermione was pulling at his arm.

“Harry, come on.” She hissed as she pulled him towards a carriage where, Harry noted, Oliver and
the twins were sitting.

“Come on Harry,” Fred grinned.

“What are you waiting for?” George added. Harry let Hermione pull him into the carriage.

“Are you ready for the quidditch season Harry?” Oliver asked with a bright smile. Harry smiled
back and suddenly an idea hit him.

“I can hardly wait Oliver, but I was wondering, what's going to happen when the older
players graduate? We'll have to start training almost an entirely new team and Slytherin will
stomp us for sure, even if their seeker won't get anywhere near the snitch.” Oliver frowned as
he thought about it and he nodded slowly. Before he could say anything, Harry went on,

“Maybe you could start training a reserve team made from the younger years. I know that Ron
would make a great keeper. He's been playing with his brothers for ages, right?” he looked at
the twins who seemed to pick up something from his expression.

“Yeah, someday we might even claim him as family.” George confirmed. Oliver looked thoughtful
and they continued the discussion of the junior Gryffindor quidditch team for the rest of the ride
up to the castle. None of them noticed the occasional silvery spark coming from the carriage wheels
or the trail of glitter that shined briefly on the ground before they disappeared.

Once they made it to the Great Hall, Ron waved over to them and they took their seats.
McGonagall came in leading the first years and Harry quickly caught sight of Luna, who had a light
smile on her face, and a quavering Ginny.

The Sorting Hat opened its ragged mouth and began to sing its song but Harry wasn't paying
attention. His mind was racing as he tried to figure out a way to ensure that the journals
hadn't done anything to Hermione and what he could say to her that would convince that he
wasn't crazy. A bright flash briefly blinded him and he blinked and saw Colin Creevy waving
cheerfully at him with a bright grin on his face.

“Hello Harry, I'm Colin Creevy. Of course I know all about you. You're the greatest!” he
chattered and Harry nodded and smiled,

“It's nice to meet you Colin. Welcome to Gryffindor.” That seemed to make the hyper boy even
happier and he bounced over to a seat just close enough that he could chatter to his heart's
content and it would all reach Harry's ears.

The brief shock of re-meeting Colin brought him back to what was happening around him. He looked
at the line of first years and saw that Luna was going up to be sorted. He smiled slightly and
watched as the Hat and Luna conversed. Finally, the Hat opened its brim,

“GRYFFINDOR!” It called out and Harry blinked in surprise and he frowned as a chill ran up his
spine and a sick feeling developed in his stomach while Hermione congratulated the blonde girl.

Why had Luna become a Gryffindor? Why couldn't he get the diary? Who had told the goblins to
give him the journals? Had he already ruined everything? He smiled weakly at Luna when she turned
to him,

“Congratulations Luna, I'm glad you're here.” He looked and saw that Ginny too had just
been sorted into Gryffindor. She made a beeline for a cluster of other new Gryffindors and then
Harry sighed in relief. At least he had not changed that much and hopefully what had happened
wouldn't change events very much or he was going to be in serious trouble.

-->



10. Rock, paper, scissors
-------------------------



If I owned Harry Potter then Harry and Hermione would be married and probably running a
detective agency or Hermione would teach History and Harry would teach Charms at Hogwarts and they
would both spend the summers doing various adventures Indiana Jones style. Sirius and Remus
(neither of whom are dead, they're residing under a fidelius charm on a tropical island in the
Pacific Ocean) would play paper, rock, scissors and the looser would be the headmaster of Hogwarts
while winner would be DADA teacher and deputy headmaster. Tonks (also not dead but actually on the
tropical island) would spend her time between working at Harry and Hermione's detective agency
and impersonating Minister Luna Longbottom whenever Minister Longbottom wants to go off and search
for strange creatures with her husband who would be on the look out for new and interesting plants.
Fred (tropical island!) and George would play paper, rock, scissors at the end of every month and
whoever lost would get to run the joke shop for the week while the winner would get to teach
potions at Hogwarts.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

*He looked and saw that Ginny too had just been sorted into Gryffindor. She made a beeline for
a cluster of other new Gryffindors and then Harry sighed in relief. At least he had not changed
that much and hopefully what had happened wouldn't change events very much or he was going to
be in serious trouble.*

When the feast was over he felt Hermione grasp him tightly by the arm and he winced. While he
wanted time to try to figure out what that strange brown stuff had been and why Luna had been
sorted into Gryffindor this time around, he knew that Hermione would wait no longer for answers.
They made it into the Gryffindor common room before her curiosity finally overcame her,

“Well? What's been going on Harry?” Hermione demanded and Harry looked around. There were
several students lingering in the room, catching up with their friends from last year.

“Do you have the translations still?” he asked her and an irritated look flickered across her
face before she nodded.

“Good, bring them and come with me. I don't want anyone to over hear what I'm going to
tell you.” She frowned but nodded and disappeared up the stairs to the girls' dormitory for a
few minutes. When she returned, she had a messenger bag over her shoulder and nodded in Harry's
direction.

“You must be back here in one hour!” Percy called after them, a disapproving look on his face.
Harry ignored him and pulled Hermione through the halls. They kept going until they came up to the
fifth floor and Harry began to pace.

*I need a place where no one will over hear us. I need a place that Hermione and I can talk
without being interrupted.* He thought this over and over again until finally the door appeared
and Hermione let out a soft gasp. Harry pushed open the door and looked around the room.

It looked very similar to the Gryffindor common room, but smaller and instead of the bright red
of the common room it was a dark, richer red. There was a painting of Hogwarts above the fireplace.
Harry took one of the squishy red chairs and Hermione took the other and gave him a piercing
look.

“What is going on Harry?” She demanded and Harry paused. He wasn't exactly certain how to
explain what had happened. It had been easy enough to tell the twins, but Hermione was different.
She probably knew all the reasons why what had happened was impossible and she would want more
answers than he had. He was going to need her help even more than he would need the twins, he knew
that. Even with memories from the future, one wrong move and they would all be useless but Hermione
wasn't hindered by the knowledge of what might happen. She would be able to see things without
relying on the memories or on potentially false impressions of people based on what they didn't
do yet.

“First, was there anything strange about the journals? Did you write in them at all?” he
demanded of her and she narrowed her eyes but she answered.

“Yes, I wrote some notes in the margins and the only strange thing about the journals was that
many of them were written in languages that I've never seen before. Now, tell me what's
going on.” Harry let out a small sigh of relief and then he went back to trying to figure out what
to tell Hermione. He sat up in shock as he realized he had almost forgotten about occulemency.

“Hermione, if I tell you this, you need to promise not to look Dumbledore or Snape in the eye,
promise me!” Harry said quickly and Hermione pursed her lips and glared at him.

“Harry, please tell me what's going on.”

“Promise me.” Harry demanded while his mind still raced to figure out what he could say to
Hermione so he could convince her what was going on and not sound crazy. Hermione sighed,

“Fine Harry, I promise I won't look at Professor Dumbledore or at Professor Snape in the
eye.” The flicker of disgust that crossed Harry's face when she called Snape a professor did
not escape Hermione. She opened her mouth to again demand an explanation of her friend when he
interrupted the inner argument she was preparing to use against him,

“There's a basilisk in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and unless I can find a diary with a
piece of Voldemort's soul in it, it's going to probably kill a lot of people.” Harry
blurted out before his mind fully made up how to explain things to his best friend. She stared at
him and then frowned. Then Hermione stood up and moved until she was able to put her hand on his
forehead. She pursed her lips,

“You don't seem to have a fever.” Harry turned red as she got very close to his face, “Your
eyes look normal.” Hermione stood straight and took his hand, “Come on Harry, I want Madam Pomfrey
to take a look at you. There's obviously something wrong. Have you been getting enough
sleep?”

“Hermione, I'm telling the truth!” Harry protested as she tried to pull him along to take
him to the hospital wing.

“You think you're telling the truth Harry, but what you just told me just isn't
possible. Even with magic, no one can go more than a day into the past and even then it's
impossible to place your consciousness into your former self's body. The mental and magical
strain would cause the body to first go insane and then implode. And besides that, why would there
be a basilisk in the castle? This was built as a fortress and a school, a pace where people, where
children, are sent to be safe while they learned to harness their magic. And even if there was a
basilisk, why would it be in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom of all places?”

“Why would I lie about this?” Harry demanded as she continued to try to get him to the door but
he kept manipulating the room so no matter how far she pulled him along, the door was always
further away.

“I know you're not lying Harry, or at least you don't think you're lying, I'm
not sure how, but I know. But as I said, it's impossible, so I believe you probably had a very
vivid dream or something like that and you think what you saw was real.” Harry finally managed to
wrench his hand from Hermione's grip.

“Hermione, I'm telling the truth. The basilisk is in the chamber of secrets and the sink
that doesn't work in Myrtle's bathroom is the entrance. If you don't believe me then
I'll show you.” Hermione rolled her eyes and then said dryly,

“Fine, let's see this secret entrance to a place that people have been searching for since
Slytherin died. But if we're caught and I loose points, get detention, or get killed then I
hold you responsible.” Harry smiled and helped her to collect the journals. Then together they
snuck through the castle hallways. As they crept down a flight of stairs Harry stopped
suddenly.

“I almost forgot.” He muttered and he took the Marauder's map from his bag and pointed his
wand at it.

“I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” He ignored Hermione's look at such a password and
watched as the lines of ink began to spread across the parchment. Hermione stared at it in obvious
amazement and Harry carefully studied where everyone was. Snape was in the dungeons, Filch was
patrolling on the other side of the castle, McGonagall in her rooms, and the prefects were easy
enough to avoid.

“Harry, where did you get something like that? It's very advanced magic!” Hermione hissed as
he again began to lead her through the hallways.

“My father and his friends made it.” He nearly stopped in shock as something suddenly connected
in his mind. Scabbers! He hadn't seen the traitor since leaving the Burrow! He frowned and
tried to figure out where the rat was as he and Hermione continued on to Moaning Myrtle's
bathroom. He was broken out of his thoughts by the almost familiar sounds of Myrtle's
wailing.

“Come on.” Harry insisted as Hermione paused, a grimace on her face. They entered the bathroom
and were almost immediately accosted by the unhappy ghost girl.

“What are you doing here?” she snapped at them, “Come to make fun of poor Myrtle have you?” she
demanded.

“No!” Harry immediately gulped as he took a step back. He could just imagine the sort of noise
she could make, immediately brining far too many people to them. Myrtle glared at them.

“This isn't the astronomy tower. Go snog somewhere else and leave me alone!” Myrtle hissed
at them and both of the Gryffindor students began to blush brightly. For a moment Harry had a brief
vision of kissing Hermione but he quickly banished it as he remembered that she was twelve still
and he was sixteen, mentally at least. Though they were physically the same age, it would still
seem rather wrong.

*But in a few more years* a little voice whispered in the back of his mind and he
determinedly ignored it.

“Myrtle, we were wondering how you died.” Harry told the pouting ghost before she could accuse
them of anything else, or worse, alert others to their presence. Myrtle stared at the two of them
in amazement and a grin blossomed on her face.

“Really?” she squeaked and he and Hermione nodded quickly. She floated down until she was at eye
level with them, a silvery blush on her semi-transparent face.

“Well, I came here because I was so upset because Olive Hornby had been making fun of me. She
was so nasty! I was crying when I heard someone hissing, a boy hissing. Well, I got mad and I came
out of my stall to yell at them and I saw a giant pair of yellow eyes and then,” she began to swell
up in great self importance,

“I died.” She said dramatically. Hermione shot a glance over at Harry who nodded at Myrtle.

“Thanks Myrtle, but, where did you see those eyes?” he asked and Myrtle shrugged,

“Oh, over there somewhere.” She waved over towards the sink. Harry nodded and walked over to the
sink. There was the little snake carved into the pipe.

“*Open*,” he hissed as he imagined the snake to be alive. He heard Hermione and Myrtle both
gasp as the sink moved to reveal the slide down into the dark depths.

“There's a basilisk down there, that's what kill you Myrtle.” Harry said to the ghost
girl who stared at the hole in amazement.

“Oh Harry!” Hermione gasped and he hissed at the sink again and it closed. Then he turned to
her,

“The basilisk, the thing that killed Myrtle, is down there, and I don't have Fawkes or the
sword of Gryffindor right now so I don't really want to go down there just yet. But do you
believe me now?” Harry looked at her and she bit her lip, took a deep breath and then nodded.

“Yes, I believe you,” then a different look appeared on her face and she frowned slightly,
“though I am disappointed Harry. Newt Scamander's *Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find
Them* specifically says that a basilisk can be killed by the crowing of a rooster. You don't
have to go through whatever you did the first time to kill it. What did you do by the way?” He
stared at her for a moment and bit back a groan as he remembered that vital piece of information.
He could just see the sentence on the crumpled piece of paper he had taken from Hermione's
petrified hand the first time around. Hermione continued to stare at him and he was about to answer
when Myrtle broke in and reminded them of her presence,

“How did you do that?” she demanded. Harry jumped slightly and turned to her as his mind raced
for a reason.

“It was a spell I've been trying to develop to detect secret passages. *Hassess*.”
Hermione said quickly and Myrtle looked doubtful but she accepted it when she saw that Harry was
nodding in agreement.

“I was just helping her to test it. I didn't want her to get hurt in case the spell
didn't work out.” Harry added quickly and Myrtle nodded and a sly look came across her face and
she floated closer to Harry.

“I'm sure you were behind quite a bit of the real work behind the spell though and it was so
brave of you to try casting it first.” She simpered and Harry noticed that Hermione was trying to
bite back a smile.

“Uh, well,” Harry tried to think of something that wouldn't hurt Myrtle's feelings and
then,

“We have to get going or someone might catch us and give us detention for being out after
hours.” Hermione broke in and she grabbed Harry's arm and began to pull him towards the door.
The young wizard was now certain that she was the best friend in existence.

“Yeah!” he grabbed onto the excuse, “We don't want to get detention or loose house points.
The Slytherins won the house cup for long enough.” With that he grabbed Hermione's wrist and
pulled her out of the bathroom before Myrtle could say anything else. As they snuck back to the
tower, Harry tried to get his thoughts together but Hermione interrupted,

“Harry, how far ahead did you come from? How did you manage to come this far back, and merge
with your past self, without imploding? Have you changed anything? Do you know the purpose of that
brown stuff that was on the carriage? How did you find out there was a basilisk in Myrtle's
bathroom? How did you kill it? Who had the journal the first time? How did you find the room of
requirement? What happened that was so bad that you felt you had to come back?”

Harry paused for a moment before he finally answered,

“I've come from just after our sixth year. We were caught by death eaters and Voldemort
killed me. I don't know why I didn't implode and yes, I've changed a few things.”
Hermione glared at him,

“Harry! It's forbidden-” Harry interrupted,

“Yes, I know that the Ministry has forbidden people to change the past. You get a time turner
next year to take all the classes you wanted to take and you told me about the rules about time
travel. But Hermione, I had to change things, Dumbledore *died*. He was murdered.” Hermione
gasped and she became pale.

“My godfather, did you know I have a godfather?” Harry went on without noticing Hermione's
reaction, “He died trying to save me from my own stupidity and Cedric Diggory, Cedric died just
because I was trying to be fair. Voldemort came back Hermione, and he's still out there now. I
have to change that, I have to stop them from dying and I can't do it without your help. But if
you don't want to help then I won't force you.” Hermione stared at him before she grabbed
him in a fierce hug. Harry was stunned for a moment before he gingerly hugged her back.

“How could you even think I wouldn't help you?” she hissed when she finally let him go.

“Now, answer my questions. I can't help if I don't know what I'm working with.”
Hermione demanded and Harry smiled brightly and he began to explain things in a low whisper as they
walked hurriedly back to the Gryffindor tower. They couldn't see anyone in the hall but that
didn't mean that there wasn't anyone there. Even if the hall really was empty, Harry
didn't trust the portraits since they had little better to do than gossip and report about the
activities of students.

They returned to the Gryffindor common room and discovered that it was empty. Then Hermione
again grabbed him in a fierce hug.

“Thank you Harry.” She said when she released him. He stared at her,

“Thank you?” he was stunned, “But I'm probably going to get you killed! Hermione, I
shouldn't have told you anything but-”

“But I would have started questioning Harry and I would have found out at least part of it. Or I
might have tried to turn you in as a polyjuiced imposter.” Hermione interrupted and mentally Harry
had to agree.

“And when Voldemort does come back then even if I wasn't your friend I'd be a target,
probably even one of the first to go. I've read the books and I've stayed awake in history
Harry, I know who he would come after first. So thank you, thank you for letting me help and thank
you for being my friend Harry.” Hermione told him and then she looked stern,

“Now, you're going to show me everything that you can do now and I'll teach you what
I've learned from the journals so be prepared to get up early.” She declared and he smiled.

“Thanks Hermione.” He said and they parted to go to their respective rooms.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

And that's all I wrote, for now at least, now please leave a review and tell me what you
liked, what I can improve upon and whether or not anyone is going to take up the challenges that I
posted in the challenge forums because I really want someone to take one of those challenges

Also, go read Skullduggery Pleasant, it's a really good book and you'll be glad you
did

-->



11. sleeping and songbirds
--------------------------



If I owned Harry Potter then things would be considerably different. Instead of being dead
(which they aren't really, they're on a tropical island somewhere in the Pacific Ocean)
Sirius or Remus would play paper, rock, scissors and looser would be the headmaster of Hogwarts,
winner would be the DADA teacher. Luna would be minister of magic with Tonks (also residing on a
tropical island with Remus) pretending to be Luna when the minister wanted to go hunting for a
strange creatures and Harry and Hermione would be married and possibly running a detective agency
with Harry subbing for DADA when Sirius or Remus can't or don't want to teach. Fred
(tropical island dangit!) and George would take turns running the most successful joke shop in the
wizarding world and teaching potions at Hogwarts. Ron and Ginny would both playing for the Canons.
Since none of that has happened, obviously I don't own Harry Potter.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

*“Now, you're going to show me everything that you can do now and I'll teach you what
I've learned from the journals so be prepared to get up early.” She declared and he
smiled.*

*“Thanks Hermione.” He said and they parted to go to their respective rooms.*

But when Harry returned to his room, he couldn't fall asleep. Too much was going through his
mind and Ron's snoring, even if he was partially used to it, didn't help at all.

As he listened to Ron his mind jumped to the issue of Wormtail. Harry sat up in his bed and
looked around quickly. When he didn't see the rat in the usual place, Harry gently crept out of
bed and began to search around the room for the traitor.

In this instance, the many times he had crept around the Dursley's house came in handy
because his well honed ability to creep without making a sound and Ron's snoring to cover up
any accidental noises kept the other boys from waking from their sound sleep.

But no matter where Harry looked, he could not find the little rat. He growled under his breath
and sat back down on his bed. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down and it seemed to work.

He could ask Ron about wormtail in the morning, so that would be alright, he tried to reassure
himself of this several times but he still felt uneasy about not knowing where the traitor was.
Perhaps Hedwig had gotten hungry and decided that the rat would make a good snack? If it hadn't
meant that Sirius's best chance of freedom was now a little ball of fur and bones then he would
have hoped that it was true. Harry sighed deeply and then made a decision. If he couldn't free
Sirius now, he would at least help him out.

An hour later, Harry once more found himself with nothing to do. He looked out the window
blankly and gradually his eyes became unfocused. Immediately a giant silvery bubble appeared in
front of him and the walls began to glow a sort of lavender sort of color with threads of yellow
green running through like vines. He sat up and focused but as soon as he did, all of the lights
vanished.

Harry frowned, confused about what was going on. He unfocused his eyes again and immediately the
silvery bubble appeared, just beyond the forbidden forest and the walls had a lavender light
overlaying them. He looked around the room, keeping his eyes slightly unfocused, and he saw his
wand glowing a deep orange color. The books in the room all glittered with a very weak grey light
and he realized that his skin was glowing a similar grey color as the books but the glow around him
was much stronger and threaded with sparks of silver. The bracelet around his wrist blazed with
silver fire so bright that his concentration broken and he could no longer see the light. Spots
danced in front of his aching eyes so he was reluctant to try out this new ability again.

For the next few hours, Harry practiced being able to make things move around, freeze them in
place and conjuring the fire that he had used to slightly torment wormtail. He discovered that when
he attempted to freeze any fire that he summoned, the fire would quickly start to smolder and
eventually it would go out unless he stopped concentrating on freezing it. He practiced and
practiced until his finally his body ignored his busy head and collapsed in exhaustion.

That night, Harry dreamt that he was swimming through muddy water. There was a cloudy figure
ahead of him and the figure was saying something to him but he couldn't hear what it was and no
matter what he did, he couldn't get any closer to the person.

The next morning, Harry awoke with the vague feeling that someone had been yelling at him. He
rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and he stretched and tried to remember what he had been dreaming
about.

He washed and dressed quickly when he realized that even Ron was up. He raced out of the room
and down the stairs to see Hermione, her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face.

“I told you to be up early today Harry.” Hermione snapped as he came down the stairs, a sheepish
look on his face.

“Sorry Hermione,” Harry began but before he could go on, Hermione cut him off,

“Come on then, we'll be late to breakfast.” Harry meekly followed the obviously furious
girl, who berated him as they walked,

“…sent Ron up there three times and he couldn't get you to wake up! I told you Harry that
you should have been up early so we could start practicing!” Hermione snapped as they walked.
Finally they made it to the Great Hall and Hermione stopped talking and contented herself with
sending irritated glares at Harry. Harry found himself shrinking back slightly in both guilt and
from a slight sense of preservation though not as much as he could have since he knew that Hermione
wasn't really, truly mad at him. He had seen her when she was truly mad and this was only
mildly irritated, not even in the same level as when she was angry with Ron.

Harry shuddered slightly. He would rather go against dragons, dementors, Snape, the ministry,
and even Voldemort a dozen times than have Hermione really and truly mad at him. The young wizard
frowned a bit, unsure about why this was but he was glad that she wasn't really mad at him now.
His expression grew darker as he saw Hermione take a copy of *Voyages with Vampires* out of
her bag and then prop it against a milk jug.

“That book is a load of rubbish.” Harry snapped at her as she began to pick out what she would
eat for breakfast. Hermione shot him a sour look,

“It is not a load of rubbish; it's quite insightful and interesting.” Hermione retorted
though there was something in her expression that made the green eyed wizard think she was just
saying it out of habit. Harry shook his head,

“Remember what I told you last night?” he asked and she nodded and her expression darkened
slightly,

“I remember, even if you didn't.”

“Well, we find out that he's a fake.” Harry whispered, ignoring Hermione's comment and
trying to make sure that no one over heard them, “He never did anything he said in his books, other
people did and he got their stories and oblivated them so they wouldn't know that they had done
anything. He tries to oblivate me and Ron with Ron's wand and leaves Ginny to die.” Hermione
paled and her eyes widened.

“He did *what*?” Hermione hissed in outrage, her eyes burning.

“He was going use Ron's wand to destroy our memories and get us locked up in St. Mungo's
for good, leave Ginny to die and allow Voldemort's diary to use her soul to remake himself. If
Lockhart had succeeded then we'd have had two Voldemorts running around. He thinks only about
himself and his own fame. You read his books, what impression did you get of the author?” Hermione
paled further. She pursed her lips and sent her book a glare that should have set it aflame. As it
was the book only sat innocently against the milk jug. Hermione slammed it close and put it back
into her bag.

Everyone, except for Ron who was stuffing his face, stared at Hermione's uncharacteristic
behavior and a few wondered how Ron could have gotten her so angry when he had his mouth full.

As they walked to herbology, Harry wondered if he was a bad person for being glad that Hermione
was now directing all of her anger, including the irritation she had originally felt towards him
for not waking up, at Lockhart. He thought about Lockhart and remembered all the idiot had done and
decided that an angry Hermione may be a bit much but the smiling dimwit deserved all that was
coming to him.

Harry was shaken from his thoughts when they entered the greenhouse and he saw the familiar
leaves of the mandrake plants. He looked at Ron who was heading over to them and then noted that
Neville didn't have a partner.

“Neville, come sit here with me and Hermione.” Harry called to the slightly pudgy boy.
Neville's eyes widened and he shot a glance over to Ron. Ron looked confused and somewhat hurt
as Neville took the Weasley boy's usually spot at Harry's side.

“Hey Weasley, get over here!” said the boy that Harry recognized as Justin Finch-Fletchley and
Ron shot a hurt look at Harry before joining the Hufflepuff boy.

“What was that about?” Hermione whispered.

“I'll tell you later.” Harry replied as Professor Sprout entered the greenhouse, looking
considerably more cheerful than he remembered her looking during this lesson. Then he realized that
Lockhart had not confronted him since he didn't use the flying car which mean that the whomping
willow hadn't gotten hurt which meant that Sprout hadn't dealt with the idiot this
morning.

“Right then people, today we'll be repotting Mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the
properties of the Mandrake?”

The lesson went precisely as Harry remembered it, except for the fact that Ron was not in their
group and it wasn't Neville who got knocked out from the immature mandrake's cries, it was
Ron.

As they left Herbology Hermione looked at Harry with an expectant expression on her face and he
sighed,

“I don't want Ron to get hurt for being my friend. Last time around you both nearly died. I
can't push you away, I need you too much to do that, but I want Ron to have a normal Hogwarts
experience and that means that I can't be close to him anymore.” Harry explained, not noticing
the slight tinge of pink that had appeared on Hermione's face. Hermione frowned,

“You do know that he's going to be mad and irrational if you intend to remove yourself from
him. He hasn't done anything, yet, to warrant being pushed away so your distancing yourself
from him now looks somewhat suspicious.” The muggle born witch said and Harry blinked.

“I didn't really think about that,” Harry admitted, “I just want him and Ginny to be safe.”
Harry blinked again as something came to him, “Hermione, why do you think that Ron will react like
that? I know he will but that's from knowing him for ages but the two of you have known each
other for barely a year now. And how did you know that I wasn't lying last night? And why did
you immediately assume that I time traveled when I hadn't said anything about it yet?” Harry
asked all his senses on alert. He reached for his wand, slowly so the girl who looked like Hermione
wouldn't notice. The maybe not Hermione shook her head,

“I'm not sure Harry. It's just that ever since I saw you in Diagon Alley, my mind has
been working faster and I've been making all sorts of connections that I hadn't even
thought about before. I've been reading and comprehending everything I can get my hands on. I
can even understand the physics text that I couldn't make heads or tails of last year. I can
tell when people are lying and if I know enough about the person then I can make a good guess as to
what they'll do next. When you said what happened, there were only two logical ideas, that you
had a particularly vivid dream or that you had time traveled. You and I are both new to the
wizarding world and you don't exactly read for pleasure Harry so it was a logical guess that
you wouldn't have known what a basilisk was and I know that you've never met Moaning Myrtle
before last night, her reaction to us proves that much,” Harry nodded and a wry smile appeared on
Hermione's face,

“And honestly, a girl's bathroom is the *last* possible place, other than a location
outside of Hogwarts that the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets would have been, though I suppose
it wasn't originally a bathroom. Modern indoor plumbing wasn't added to Hogwarts until the
early eighteen hundreds. The school was closed for two years while it was installed.” Hermione said
quickly. Harry would have said something else but they had arrived at Transfiguration.

McGonagall passed out beetles to make into buttons and Harry absently flicked his wand and
completed the assignment without thinking about it. He instead started to think about what Hermione
had told him.

How was it that he and his friends suddenly had new powers and abilities that they certainly had
not accessed the first time around? Was it only the twins, Hermione and himself that were able to
do these things? But Hermione didn't mention anything about being able to toss around fire or
wandlessly make things float; she had only mentioned an increase in her thinking abilities.

*Not that she needed any help there* Harry thought as he began to play with the button,
multiplying it and then allowing some to keep their beetle legs and watch as they raced around. A
few more wand motions had their movement coordinated and now the button beetles were dancing.

Perhaps Hermione's new abilities came from somewhere else? Harry shuddered at the idea of
another horcrux diary, especially if it came from his vaults.

“Mr. Potter!” Harry was jerked out of his thought process by McGonagall's sharp voice.

“Yes Professor?” Harry asked quickly, waving his wand to stop the button beetles from moving and
then changing them back into a single black button.

“Mr. Potter, perhaps you should go to Madam Pomfrey and get your hearing checked?” Professor
McGonagall suggested, “I have called you twice before you answered.” Harry blushed,

“Sorry Professor, I was thinking.” McGonagall nodded,

“As I was going to say, fifteen points to Gryffindor for an exemplary combination of
transfiguration and charms, another five for doing all of it wordlessly and two points from
Gryffindor for not paying attention.” McGonagall declared and Harry smiled,

“Thanks Professor.” he said and the stern professor smiled slightly and nodded before she
stalked away to overlook the other efforts of the students. Hermione finally managed to get
Harry's attention.

“Harry, that was incredibly!” Hermione squeaked and Harry turned to where Hermione had already
transfigured half a dozen beetles into perfect, shiny black buttons. A few of the buttons even had
some intricate carving on their surface. Harry shrugged and again caused his buttons to again
regain their legs and dance about while he waited for the lesson to be over.

“We learn how to animate and multiply things like that in a few years. The legs came from
partially reversing the transfiguration; just enough to give them legs without going so far as to
giving them back their brains and the coordinated movements are because of a type of animation
charm. It was nothing very hard, just a lot of spells working together. You've done stuff even
better dozens of times, or at least you will.” Harry whispered to her, making sure that the other
students nearby who were still struggling with their own button beetles couldn't hear him.

Harry showed Hermione the more elaborate things that they could do with the buttons and had fun
transfiguring them into a variety of things, including a jet black songbird that burst into a song
that reminded Harry of a phoenix song and he wondered how Hermione managed to do that. By the end
of class they had earned Gryffindor another ten points and both were in a considerably better mood,
especially since they were supposed to go to lunch next which meant that Hermione would have some
time to show Harry what she had learned from the journals.

But instead of going off to the room of requirement, they were stuck going to lunch since Ron
had been awakened from his mandrake induced coma and immediately homed in on the pair of them.

“Come on, I'm starving!” Ron had said before Harry or Hermione could make up some sort of
excuse and get away.

-->



12. Lavendar ink
----------------



Many of you are concerned about Ron and so I will explain what I'm doing with him- as little
as I possibly can. While I respect and can even go as far as admire those who like and can properly
characterize Ron, I readily admit that I am not one of those writers. I don't like Ron and even
worse, I cannot relate to him in any way shape or form. If I could relate to him then I could
characterize him properly, or even better, I wouldn't dislike him. Since I can't if I did
keep him as a main character I would end up making him incredibly ooc and end up bashing him which
would make many of you, my beloved readers, angry with me, the writer, and it would make me feel
guilty. I don't want Ron fans angry with me and I do not want to feel guilty, therefore Ron
will be relegated to the position of a minor character so he is not unduly abused. I do not own
Harry Potter in any way shape or form.


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

“So, what class do we have next?” Ron asked when they finished their meal. Harry had to admit
that he probably wouldn't have done very well if he had skipped lunch since he seemed to be
constantly hungry lately but after looking at Hermione he didn't say such a thing out loud. The
lunch would have been even more than just the energy that he gained from eating if Ron had managed
to pull himself away from his food long enough to say anything but he had not and so Harry had yet
to managed to really talk to the red head and ask him about the state of the rat. Hermione's
state of annoyance continued to dissuade him from mentioning the rat to Ron.

“Defense with Lockhart.” Hermione answered primly as they made their way through the courtyard.
Harry noticed something out of the corner of his eye and almost before he had time to realize what
had happened, the trio were ambushed by Colin Creevy. The mousey haired boy was looking up at Harry
with an expression of such adoration that he reminded the slightly older wizard of Dobby.

“Hi Harry, I dunno if you remember me-” Colin began nervously, his camera shaking in his
hands.

“Colin Creevy, right? You're one of the new Gryffindor first years?” Harry interrupted,
really not wanting to deal with the camera happy boy at the moment but maybe, just maybe he could
avoid the mess with Malfoy and Lockhart just a little longer. Colin smiled brightly and nodded.

“Yes, yes, that's me!” Colin chirped as he bounced up and down on the balls of his feet,
“And I was wondering, if maybe I could take a picture of you? Just to prove to my dad that I met
you! I know-” Again Harry interrupted him before he could go on in his fan worship,

“You can have the picture Colin, but only if you, Hermione, Luna, Neville and Ron are in it and
I can get a copy. I got a photo album last year and I'd like to add a picture with all my
friends. Then I'll take a picture of you doing some magic. I'm sure your dad would rather
have a picture of you than of someone he doesn't know.” Colin's eyes grew so wide that
Harry was afraid that they would pop out.

“F-friends? Really?” Colin squeaked and then with a speed that Harry didn't expect from the
younger boy, Colin had gathered Luna, Hermione, Neville and Ron and pushed them into where he
wanted them for the picture. He pulled Harry next to himself in the center of the picture and in a
moment Harry couldn't see anything because of the bright flash from Colin's camera.

“My turn,” Harry said, grabbing the camera from the other first year that Colin had quickly
bullied into taking the picture before the younger boy could beg for another picture. Colin looked
nervous as he took out his wand but a very loud, windargium leviosa later and a textbook, donated
by Hermione, was floating in the air and Harry quickly snapped a few pictures and then Hermione
caught the book and Colin released the spell and she took the camera back from Harry and handed it
to the star struck first year.

“I'd like a copy of the picture too Colin, we'll have to talk about it later though.
We'll all be late for class if we don't get going now.” Hermione announced and Colin nodded
and scampered away with the other first years.

“So we really have to go to this class?” Harry murmured to Hermione as Ron trailed behind
them.

“Yes, we do. Professor McGonagall might be suspicious because of that display in transfiguration
which, while educational, was beyond the abilities of an average second year, or even a slightly
above average second year. Acting normal, in class at least, will deter further unwanted attention.
If we're lucky then Professor McGonagall will write off the button act as an anomaly, so long
as we do not act above the level of a second year.”

“What are you two talking about?” Ron demanded as he finally caught up to the two friends. He
grabbed Harry's wrist, and the bracelet, in an attempt to slow the two of them down.
Harry's eyes widened briefly and he glanced down at the bracelet but it did nothing.

“Come on, you two practically ignored me all during lunch and you asked Neville of all people to
help you in herbology and now you two keep walking so bloody fast that I can barely keep up with
you, much less talk to you.” Ron growled as he physically pulled his friends to a full stop. Harry
and Hermione exchanged glances and Hermione spoke first,

“We're sorry Ron, it's just that I was worried that I hadn't reviewed my herbology
enough and you know that Neville has a knack for it and well, you were pulled in that other group
instead.”

“And besides, you never really talk during lunch, you're too busy eating and we wouldn't
have wanted to distract you from that.” Harry added dryly.

“As to walking quickly, we're about to be late!” Hermione added, a scowl on her face, and
she broke away from Ron, grabbed Harry's hand and pulled the green eyed boy with her to the
classroom. There the two of them immediately grabbed the first empty seats they came across, which
happened to be in the very back of the class and began to pile their textbooks around them in a way
to block themselves from the sight of the teacher. Ron, still looking unhappy, took a seat next to
Hermione and Harry motioned fro Neville to sit next to him. Smiling, the still shy boy took the
seat and followed Harry and Hermione's example and began to pile his books around him in an
attempt to both avoid having to look at the so called `teacher' and to try to avoid the blonde
man's attention.

Other students, mostly girls, led by Parvati and Lavender, pushed their way to the front. There
was a brief tussle over one of the `choice' seats that could have been very interesting, and
gave Harry the brief hope that it would disrupt things enough to stop the class, but it was settled
just as Lockhart burst opened the door and appeared in what he probably thought was a dramatic
fashion. Purple smoke billowed behind him and he grinned brightly. Harry could have sworn that the
man's teeth actually sparkled for a brief moment, as if they had been covered in glitter.

He looked around at them, still smiling brightly though it faded just a bit when he noted
several students whispering. He cleared his throat very loudly and most of the students stopped
talking. Lockhart reached forward and grabbed Lavender's copy of *Travel with Trolls*,
causing Lavender to squeal ever so slightly. He held it up so they could see his smiling
portrait.

“Me,” he said, as if they couldn't see it, and he winked. “Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of
Merlin, Third Class,”

“Which is an honor only, not for anything important.” Hermione whispered to him and Harry
smiled.

“Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League,” Lockhart went on and Harry rolled his
eyes,

“Why not an actual member?” he whispered to Hermione who smiled slightly,

“You know, you're an official member.” Harry blinked,

“I am?” Hermione nodded,

“You were made a member after you defeated Voldemort the first time and a senior member when you
saved the philosopher's stone despite being the youngest member in the league's history.”
Hermione murmured. Harry frowned, wondering how the league had heard about the thing with Quirrel.
He was about to ask more about that and about the league but both of them started slightly when
they heard a few weak laughs and a cough that sounded almost like a laugh and they looked at
Lockhart.

“I see you've all bought a complete set of my books- well done.” Both Harry and Hermione
smirked and Harry looked over the titles of his books, not a single one of them had anything to do
with Lockhart and neither did Hermione's.

“I thought we'd start today with a little quiz.” Ron groaned loudly, “Nothing to worry
about, just to check how well you've read them, how much you've taken in…”

He handed out the scrolls of parchment and then he returned to the front of the class and said,
“You have thirty minutes, starting, *now*!”

Harry looked at his paper. He had completely forgotten anything having to do with this stupid
quiz.

**What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?** *Whateve**r helps him look lighter
on film.*

**W****hat is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?** *To figure out how Snape makes
his cape billow*

**What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?**

*I would say tricking the wizarding world but since pretty much anyone can do that I suppose
it would* *have to say his greatest achievement would be the number of times he's managed
to mention his Witch's Weekly award in a single conversation. I'm sure that any other
wiz**ard couldn't have done the same.*

**What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite animal?** *Anything that can be trained to
constantly spew his praise*

**What is Gilderoy Lockhart's animagus form?** *If I thought he was capable of such a
feat of magic then I'd say a peacock*

**What is Gilderoy Lockhart's advice to young celebrities?** *To let him hang out with
you if you're more famous than him*

**What is the most important thing to remember when facing a Dark creature?** *If you
manage to defeat the bloody thing, stay away from Gilderoy Lockhart afterwards*

**Has Gilderoy Lockhart ever suffered from any illnesses?** *If stupidity is an illness
then yes*

**What is Gilderoy Lockhart's Favorite Spell?** *Any spell he doesn't mess
up*

**Where was Gilderoy Lockhart born?** *In a barn*

**How many people did Gilderoy** **Lockhart save during the encount****er with the
Ghoul?** *He saved people?!*

**How did Gilderoy Lockhart defeat the Gladstone Ghoul?** *Sorry, missed that*

**What is Gilderoy Lockhart's recommendation for preventing hair-mussing when facing
ghouls?** *Shave yourself bald*

**What was the charm used to defeat the Wagga Wagga werewolf in Wandering with Werewolves?**
*Nothing*

**What has Gilderoy Lockhart found to be the best use of the Homorphous Charm?** *I
don't know what Lockhart uses it for but the homorphous* *charm is usually used to change
the shapes of things like a piece of fruit into a fairly realistic likeness of a male appendage,
like an arm or a head…*

**What is the best way to deal with a werewolf on a rampage?** *Run away* *and climb
the nearest tree*

**How was Gilderoy Lockhart able to defeat the Werewolf in Hand-to-Hand combat?** *This is
a joke, right?*

**What was the secret weapon Gilderoy Lockhart used to defeat the Yeti?** *He used*
*“**The Force**”*

**How did Gilderoy Lockhart track down the terrible Yeti?** *He followed the signs until he
got to the classroom where students were studying the Yeti's remains to further the progress of
magical zoology without damaging a living specimen*

**How does Gilderoy Lockhart recommend keeping a perfect manicure when facing a Yeti?** *I
don't know, Lavender or Parvati probably would though*

**What Spell did Gilderoy Lockhart use to gain access to the Banshee's lair?** *He
tried looking it up in the phone directory and when that didn't work he followed the guy who
was going to defeat the banshee*

**How did Gilderoy Lockhart defeat the Bandon Banshee's right-hand minion?** *Since*
*banshees* *are solitary creatures who generally would rather scratch out their eyes then
spend copious amounts of tim**e around anything living* *then I have to ask what
minion* *this would* *be*

**How did Gilderoy Lockhart defeat the Bandon Banshee?** *He asked her out and she
left*

**In Voyages with Vampires, how did Gilderoy Lockhart defeat the Leader of the
Vampires?**

**What curse did Gilderoy Lockhart cure the Transylvanian villagers from?** *His
presence*

**How does Gilderoy Lockhart recommend keeping your robes wrinkle-free during a confrontation
with a Vampire?** *Soil yourself**, that'll keep your robes from wrinkling* *and
the smell will annoy the vampires*

**How many lives has Gilderoy Lo****ckhart saved in his adventures?** *Again, he saved
people?!*

**When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift b****e?** *His
birthday was p**robably a Monday* *and an* *i**deal*
*g**if**t* *would definitely be a* *mirror*

Just as Harry finished the quiz, time was up and Lockhart walked around to collect the quizzes
and then began to rifle through them in front of the class. Harry smirked slightly when he saw the
idiot pause at one paper and turn pale for a moment and then go red. He was willing to bet quite a
bit that Lockhart was looking at his quiz. For just a moment the fake looked positively murderous
as he scanned the class but didn't seem to be able to find the black haired savior of the
wizarding world. He went back to rifling through the papers and cleared his throat,

“Tut, tut- hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac. I said so in Year with
the Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully- I clearly stated
in chapter 12 that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples-
though I wouldn't say no to a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey.”

He gave them what he probably thought was a roguish wink. Harry was ignoring him, trying to
figure out instead where the rat had gone and what to do with it once he had him. Hermione
wasn't paying attention either. She was too busy drawing up a new study schedule- she knew
she'd have to change virtually everything if she was going to be able to actually learn
anything from defense as well as keep her mind challenged in the other classes.

Ron and Neville were both staying at Lockhart with disbelief over their faces while Seams
Finnigan and Dean Thomas looked only a few seconds away from bursting into laughter. Lavender and
Parvati were staring at Lockhart with rapt attention. Both jumped slightly when Lockhart mentioned
Lavender's name.

“…but Miss Lavender Brown knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own
range of hair-care products, good girl! In fact,” he flipped her paper over, “full marks! Where is
Miss Lavender Brown?” Harry glanced over at Hermione, who was busy drawing up her new schedule, and
whispered,

“Why didn't you get the perfect marks?” he asked and Hermione shrugged.

“I'm quite certain I did but he must have seen Lavender's paper first.” Their attention
was dragged back to the blonde fool as he pulled a curtain away from the cage on his desk and
announced dramatically,

“*Freshly caught Cornish pixies*!” They stared at him and Seamus gave a snort of laughter
that no one could have mistaken for anything even resembling a noise of fear.

“Yes?” Lockhart smiled at Seamus who had covered his mouth with his hands. Dean spoke up for his
friend,

“Well, they're not very dangerous, are they?” Dean pointed out, a grin on his own face.

“Don't be so sure!” Lockhart announced, waggling a finger at both of the boys who scowled in
return. “Devilish tricky little blighters they can be.” Hermione frowned and Harry rolled his eyes
but he had his wand out, vaguely remembering how irritating these pixies had been the first time
the idiot had released them.

“Right then.” Lockhart said loudly and the pixies began to jump around even more, “Let's see
what *you* make of them!” And he opened the cage. Harry ducked and pulled Hermione down with
him. Ron glanced at where they were but before he could comment on his friends' strange
behavior he got a face full of pixies as the blue creatures shot from the cage with such speed they
looked like a blast of water. The Weasley boy jumped away from his desk as he tried to swat the
pixies away but they continued to swarm around him as the rest caused mischief around the rest of
the class. Some shot through the back window, covering the desks, and Neville, with broken glass.
Two pixies grabbed Seamus by the ears and lifted him in the air. The rest grabbed splashed ink all
around, tore pictures from the walls, destroyed books, threw things out the smashed window; within
minutes the rest of the class had followed Harry, Hermione and Neville's example except for Ron
who was still being tormented by the pixies who seemed enamored with his hair and Seamus who was
hanging by his shirt on the iron chandelier.

“Come on now, round them up, round them up! They're only pixies!” Lockhart shouted and
several pixies seemed to take offense at that, or that's what Harry chose to believe when three
pixies took that moment to up end a bottle of lavender ink on top of the man's golden head. He
screamed and ran out of the room, the three pixies chasing after him and the rest of the class hot
on his heels, eager to try to get away from the terrible pixies.

“This is ridiculous!” Hermione growled and she took out her wand and shot a freezing charm at
the nearest group of pixies who were covered in ink and dancing on one of the Lockhart books.

“I warned you,” Harry muttered as he followed her actions and stuffed the frozen pixies into the
empty cage. Other pixies tried to come to the frozen pixies rescue and were in turn frozen by
Neville who looked somewhat shocked and a little pleased that he had managed to perform the
charm.

“Good job Neville,” Hermione said absently as she caught another set of pixies, “keep it up.”
Neville beamed and continued to help the two of them catch pixies until the cage was almost as full
as it had been at the beginning of the class. All that were missing were the pixies who had chased
after Lockhart and the ones that had gone through the window at the beginning.

“They'll probably escape into the forest.” Hermione sighed as they left the classroom.

“At least we got out early. Now you can show me that new book Hermione.” Harry pointed out and
Hermione smiled.

“We'll catch up with you later Neville.” Hermione called as she pulled Harry towards the
stairs and up to the seventh floor.

As they made their way to the room of requirement, they passed Ron who had finally managed to
get rid of his pixie fans.

“Oi! Where do you two think you're going? Hermione you've still got to help me out with
my potions paper and Harry, I need you to come with me to the quidditch pitch. None of the chaser
will help me out so you're the next best thing!”

“I'm a seeker Ron, I just catch things. I don't throw them.” Harry replied as Hermione
glared at Ron.

“And I never agreed to do anything about your potions paper which, I noticed on the train, is
far shorter than what Professor Snape required.”

“First off Hermione, that's why I'm asking for your help. Second off, Harry your dad was
a chaser, and you're all I got right now!”

“Ron, the paper is due tomorrow!” Hermione hissed at the red head who was ignoring her in favor
of trying to persuade Harry to help him.

“Fine!” Harry hissed, ignoring the betrayed look that Hermione shot at him.

“Great!” Ron smiled brightly and something occurred to Harry.

“Ron, where's Scabbers? I haven't seen him since last year.” Harry asked as casually as
he could.

“Oh, didn't I tell you? Mum made me give him to Ginny and Ginny gave him to Looney Lovegood,
dunno what she did with him.” Ron answered as he walked away, missing Harry's disappointed
groan.

-->



13. Memories and Madam Pomfrey
------------------------------



I'm going on a trip in a bit so I wanted to get this chapter out before I became cut off
from the internet for a few weeks so it's a little rushed and I'm really sorry. As evident
by the so called `epilogue' I do not own Harry Potter. If I did then there'd be many, many
different things. For example, Sirius, Tonks, Remus and Fred would all be alive and well and each
very successful in whatever they do. Harry and Hermione being with the people they truly should be
with, namely, each other and many other things I could add would have happened instead, you can
look at previous disclaimers and see what could (should) have happened. I also do not own this
challenge- it was created by reptilia28, blame him.

*“Oh, didn't I tell you? Mum made me give him to Ginny and Ginny gave him to Looney
Lovegood, dunno what she did with him.” Ron answered as he walked away, missing Harry's
disappointed groan.*

Harry half heatedly threw the red spheres for Ron, who grew more and more cocky as he caught
every poorly thrown quaffle while Hermione say in the bleachers and read a book, occasionally
pausing to write something in a notebook that she had next to her or to look up and smile at
Harry.

“That reserve keeper spot is as good as mine!” Ron boasted as he caught another ball, “And I bet
I'll be captain too, since you won't want it, right Harry?” Ron looked at the green eyed
wizard with such a pitiful expression that Harry was hard pressed not to roll his eyes.

“Ron, the spot will go to whoever McGonagall thinks is most qualified for it.” Harry said
noncommittally but the red head scowled anyway. Harry threw the quaffle and it started to fall
before reaching Ron. The red head attempted a dive to catch it, hitting the back of the broom
against the goal post. Harry winced, whoever the young Weasley had borrowed the broom from was not
going to be happy at the state of the bristles.

This continued until well after dark because Ron would refuse to listen to any excuse to get
away that Harry could come up with and Hermione's comment concerning the curfew was only met
with,

“Oh don't nag Hermione, it's not like you can understand this stuff, right mate?” When
he caught site of the look on Hermione's face after Ron said that, Harry wondered if his friend
had any sense of self preservation at all.

He continued to wonder this for the next several days because, despite their obvious growing
annoyance with him, the young Weasley stuck to them like a burr. Every meal, the boy was there,
every class, he was always there before they could try to get someone else to sit with them. Not
even claiming they were going to the library deterred him and when they did go to the library order
to keep Ron from claiming that they lied, they couldn't even concentrate because he would keep
a running commentary on every other person in the library and when he wasn't doing that he
complained and suggested a variety of other things they could be doing, usually chess or quidditch.
When Harry tried to get up at night to sneak out of the tower with Hermione, Ron, king of sleeping
like the dead, somehow always managed to wake up and he would demand to know where Harry was going
and then offer to go with him. When Ron started following him even to the loo, Harry was
understandably alarmed.

“What is going on with him?” Hermione hissed as she and Harry walked slowly to Professor
Snape's class with Ron up ahead, chattering away without noticing that he lacked an
audience.

“I have no idea. This never happened last time and the quidditch practices I know Oliver has set
up for reserve players should have kept him too busy to be around us much.” Harry murmured
back.

“Well we need to figure out home to get him off our backs or he'll figure out
something's fishy and he'll want in.” Hermione bit her lip, “I don't want Ron involved
in a war if he doesn't have to be.”

“Neither do I,” Harry agreed, “we'll think of something.”

“Oi!” Ron called from up ahead, “Hurry it up or Snape will take off points.” Harry snorted,

“He'll take off points no matter what I do.” The boy who lived pointed out but he and
Hermione did walk a little faster.

They arrived in the classroom and promptly took the other two chairs at Neville's table. The
pudgy boy gave them a relieved smile while Ron scowled and went to sit with Seamus and Dean.

“I didn't think that would work again.” Harry said lightly, very pleased and Hermione nodded
slightly, before she could say anything else, Snape stalked into the room, a scowl already in
place. His eyes narrowed at the Gryffindors as he prowled towards the board and then he began to
scrawl instructions. Harry gripped the table tightly, his knuckles turning white as he repeated to
himself over and over again,

“Do not kill Snape, do not kill Snape, do not kill Snape, do not kill Snape, do not kill Snape,
do not kill Snape.” He tried to say it as quietly as possible but Hermione overheard. Her eyes
darted between Harry and Snape and she pursed her lips, her mind making a new connection before she
took one of Harry's clenched hands into her own. Harry tensed, momentarily startled, and then
he looked at his friend.

“It will be okay.” Hermione whispered to him and he smiled, relaxing fractionally, though he
still wanted to just take out his wand and blast the greasy man's head into tiny pieces.

“Due to an oversight in Madam Pomfrey's records, we will be working on an extremely simple
potion.” he paused and turned slightly to sneer, “Those of you with even a modicum of intelligence
should be able to brew it to acceptable standards.” The greasy man finished writing instructions on
the board and turned fully towards them. He looked over the class and then snapped,

“Well? What are you waiting for?” The class stared at him dumbly. Harry didn't dare move
half because he didn't want to give the bat a chance to get near him and half because he was
afraid his tenuous control would snap and he would try to murder the traitorous snake.

“Can you read what the board says?” whispered a worried sounding Neville. The other two
Gryffindors looked at the board and Harry growled when they realized that Snape had apparently made
his handwriting deliberately atrocious to a point that the young wizard wondered if the bat had
used some sort of charm to keep anyone from actually being able to read it.

A quick glance at the rest of the class made Harry suspect that Snape had warned the Slytherin
students what they would be brewing ahead of time since they were the only ones who were actually
working. The Gryffindors were still attempting to decipher whatever it was that Snape had scribbled
on the board. Harry wracked his memory for what potion they brewed the first time around but his
mind was blank. He looked over to Hermione and blinked as he realized that she had already opened
her potions book and had begun setting out ingredients.

“What are we making?” Harry hissed to her and she looked up from her ingredients, a faint tinge
of pink appearing on her cheeks,

“I'm not sure just yet,” Hermione confessed, “but the Slytherins have pomegranate seeds out
so I was checking to see how many healing potions use them in combination with lacewing flies. So
far I'm down to three options.” She continued to flip through her potions text and she glanced
over at the Slytherins table. Harry felt somewhat relieved when she grinned.

“Let's get started on our pepper up potion then.” She announced as loudly as she could
without alerting Snape. She was easily overheard by Dean who then told Lavender who in turn somehow
managed to spread the word to all of the Gryffindors in a few seconds.

“How'd you guess?” Harry asked a few minutes later while he crushed the blue rose petals.
Hermione smiled slightly,

“Logic. I saw the pomegranate seeds and the lacewing flies on the Slytherins' tables. Snape
told us that the potions are for Madam Pomfrey which means that they're healing potions. When
Malfoy got out the chili peppers then I knew.”

They spent several minutes brewing silently, except for the occasional whisper from Hermione to
Neville to make sure that the clumsy boy did not mess up his potion. Snape skulked along in between
the aisles and finally stopped at Harry's table and immediately Hermione stopped saying
anything.

“Twenty points from Gryffindor for cheating.” snapped the potions master and Harry's fragile
control snapped. He concentrated hard on the greasy man and watching with some satisfaction as he
froze in place. The man's sallow skin quickly took on a red tinge that was rapidly becoming
blue as he struggled to breathe.

“Harry!” Hermione hissed at him and she shoved him just enough to break his concentration.
Immediately Snape was gasping for air, one hand going to his throat as if attempting to make sure
that it continued to take in the life giving element.

When he finally regained what passed for a proper color for him, he turned to the trio of
Gryffindors, his eyes burning. Immediately Harry and Hermione averted their gazes and paid
attention to their potions.

“Potter!” Snape bellowed, stalking back towards their table. On hooked hand slammed down on the
desk and Neville began to shake almost violently with nervousness at his greatest fear being so
close.

“Look at me when I'm talking to you Potter!” Snape hissed at the green eyes Gryffindor but
Harry kept his gaze firmly on his potion, gritting his teeth as he tried to regain his control
before he committed murder.

“I said look at me Potter!” Snape growled, grabbing Harry's arm and causing the boy to
involuntarily look up into the potion master's dark eyes. Harry mentally braced himself, trying
desperately to hide every memory of the future, every thought involving Mina and what she had
done.

He saw a bright flash of light and felt himself fly away from Snape and everything went
dark.

“Harry? Harry!” he heard a voice calling to him and he slowly tried to open his eyes. Dark dots
danced in front of his eyes and he blinked, trying to clear his vision. He saw a blur of brown in
front of him.

“Hello Hermione,” Harry gasped when the brown blur grabbed him in a tight hug. The blur that was
his best female friend hugged him tighter for a moment before releasing him. He reached for his
glasses, which Hermione handed to him when she realized what he was trying to do. When he could see
Hermione asked,

“Harry, what on earth happened?” Harry looked at the worried expression on his friend's face
and shrugged.

“I have no idea.” He replied honestly, “I'm not even sure what happened.” Harry
confessed.

“Professor Snape made you look at him and then you were both flying across the room.” Hermione
answered, “Professor Snape is still unconscious.” The clever witch gestured to another part of the
hospital wing where Harry could see Professor Snape's feet, the rest of him was obscured.

“You're awake, good,” Madam Pomfrey said as she suddenly appeared by the two Gryffindors.
She gave a pointed look to Hermione, who ignored it in favor of moving her chair a fraction closer
to Harry.

“Where's Ron?” Harry asked, surprised that the red headed boy who had been all but glued to
him the past few days wasn't there.

“Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let more than one visitor in.” Hermione explained and Madam Pomfrey
cut in,

“And now that he's awake and you've been assured that he will be alright Miss Granger,
you need to get to class.” The formidable nurse said in a pushy tone and Harry was pleased and
rather surprised when Hermione ignored her and even moved so she was another fraction closer. The
brunette witch opened her mouth to continue speaking but she was again interrupted, but this time
it was by Professor Dumbledore.

“I'm glad to see you are awake, Harry.” The old man said kindly, a twinkle in his eyes.
Harry fought the desire to stiffen at the Headmaster's sudden arrival. A part of him was happy
that he now had a chance to talk to Dumbledore without raising Ron, or anyone else's,
suspicions. But another tiny part of him was shouting, trying to remind him of something important
and that was the part that made him want to get far, far away from the headmaster and the potential
questions.

“Miss Granger, I think Madam Pomfrey is correct, you should get to class.” Dumbledore said and
for a flash Harry thought he saw Hermione scowl. The young witch smiled thinly, gathered her things
and then left without another word. Dumbledore then turned to Harry.

“Headmaster,” Madam Pomfrey cut in, “He's only just woken up. I'd like to do a full
diagnostic and I'd prefer to do it without you giving him any added stress.” The mediwitch said
pointedly. Dumbledore only smiled slightly,

“I believe that it's better if Harry and I speak about what happened now, while the memory
is still fresh.” The aged man replied and Harry saw the conflicting emotions of obedience and
disapproval flit across Madam Pomfrey face but in the end she gave in.

“Five minutes.” She growled and stalked away, probably to check on Professor Snape. Dumbledore
turned to Harry, the smile still on his face.

“Well now, my dear boy, how are you feeling?” Dumbledore asked, the twinkle slightly
brighter.

“A little lightheaded professor,” Harry answered truthfully, trying to figure out what he should
do. He knew he couldn't handle changing things by himself and even with Hermione's help
there was still so much to do, so many things that depended on one event or the other that might be
completely messed up if he did something wrong. After all he had been through, he knew that
Dumbledore's advice would be a huge help. But on the other hand, there was just something that
made him reluctant to say anything about his experience with time travel.

Dumbledore looked at him carefully, and Harry couldn't help but feel somewhat unnerved by
the man's twinkling eyes. How did he do that anyway? And did it ever stop?

“So Harry, do you have any idea what happened?” the headmaster asked and Harry shook his
head,

“I have no clue. One minute Snape-”

“Professor Snape.” Dumbledore interrupted. Harry shrugged and went on,

“He was yelling at me for no reason. He grabbed my arm and next thing I knew, everything went
dark and now I'm in the hospital wing.” The boy-with-too-many-hyphens finished.

Dumbledore looked at him carefully, a frown forming on his face, and Harry squirmed under the
scrutiny.

“Harry, is there something you aren't telling me?” Dumbledore questioned, his gaze sharp and
Harry sat up straight. He ignored the voice in him that said this was a bad idea.

“Yes sir, there is something that I need to tell you but,” he looked around and noted that Madam
Pomfrey was still uncomfortable close, “I'd rather that you're the only one I tell about
this.” He finished in a whisper. Dumbledore nodded and turned slightly to face Madam Pomfrey.

“Poppy, I believe Pomona wished to speak to you concerning the angelica roots that you needed.”
He said and the nurse gave the headmaster a sharp look and frowned but then she nodded,

“Fine,” she all but glared at the two of them, “but I will be back in five minutes.” She growled
and then left the two of them alone, except for the unconscious Snape.

“Now what is it you need to tell me Harry?” Dumbledore asked and Harry looked at him and took a
deep breath.

He told Dumbledore everything. He told him about Sirius's innocence, Peter's animagus
form, the diary, Snape's betrayal, the fake horcrux, being given another chance, the tri wizard
tournament, Umbridge, and Voldemort's return. He didn't mention Hermione's knowledge of
these things or the bracelet or how he got the second chance since he didn't really consider
either of them very important details.

For a moment, Dumbledore seemed shocked. He stood there, his mouth hanging open and Harry
wondered if, perhaps, he should have just mentioned the diary or something small to start with.

Dumbledore blinked and seemed to come back to his senses. He frowned and stroked his beard,

“This is all very serious Harry.” He began, “but what you say is impossible.” The headmaster
told him and Harry stared at the old man with wide eyes. He didn't believe? Harry felt his
stomach drop.

“However, if what you say is true,” Dumbledore went on and Harry felt his hopes rise, “then I
earnestly advise you to do nothing.” Harry stared at the headmaster,

“But you died!” Harry yelped and Dumbledore smiled slightly,

“But if I did not die then you do no know the consequences. Messing with time is a very
dangerous thing Harry.” Dumbledore said in a grandfatherly voice. Before Harry knew what happened,
Dumbledore had his wand out, pointed at Harry's forehead.

“I'm afraid I cannot risk your actions changing anything,” Dumbledore said, his voice still
kind, “I'm sorry my dear boy but *oblivate.*”

-->



14. Memories and mad angels
---------------------------



I do not own Harry Potter. If I did then there would be a lot of changes, like having the twins
or Luna for minister and having Remus and Sirius and Tonks live long, happy lives with many
children and Harry and Hermione would be together. Since I don't they didn't and that's
all there is to it. For those of you who think Harry was being an idiot in the last chapter, well,
I'm sorry but that's how I think of him and that's how he'll be for a little bit
until he gets his head on straight. Also, sorry this took so long, my computer died and I had to
recreate *everything* I had on it about this story because I'm an idiot who doesn't
keep back ups of what I'm working on. I'm also moving at the end of August to continue my
scholastic career- joy. Sorry to all ya'll who wanted the bracelet to block Dumbledore's
memory charm but that's not what the bracelet does.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*“I'm afraid I cannot risk your actions changing anything,” Dumbledore said, his voice
still kind, “I'm sorry my dear boy but* *oblivate.**”*

“I believe that Madam Pomfrey will be able to release you now.” Dumbledore said and Harry
blinked.

“Sorry, what were you saying Professor?” Harry asked and he looked around. How did he end up in
the hospital wing this time? He looked around and noted that Snape was there and hoped that someone
had managed to get pictures or something. Whatever knocked out Snape was worth hearing about!

“I was just saying that you were quite lucky that you didn't inhale more of the fumes from
Mr. Longbottom's potion than you did my dear boy.” Dumbledore replied with a smile. Harry tried
to remember the last time he went to potions class but his mind was blank.

“Right,” Harry nodded anyway, not wanting to be in the hospital wing any longer than he had to.
Dumbledore stood up, still smiling.

“Now then, I must get going, there are several things I must take care of.” The old headmaster
informed Harry. He started to leave but paused long enough to whisper something to Madam Pomfrey. A
sour expression appeared on the nurse's face but she nodded and continued to scowl long after
the headmaster left.

“Well Mr. Potter, the headmaster, despite my better judgment, has insisted that I allow you to
continue to your next class.” The nurse told him and he smiled.

“Alright,” he started to get out of bed when he realized something and he turned to the
formidable master of the hospital wing.

“Er, what's my next class?” he asked and tried not to wince at Madam Pomfrey's smirk of
triumph.

“Obvious head trauma, you can't leave the hospital wing just yet then.” She said with
satisfaction.

“What head trauma?” came another voice and Harry turned slightly and smiled at the sight of
Hermione, though his smile faded when he saw that not only were her arms laden with more books than
she should be capable of holding without dropping something but her bag was also full almost to the
bursting point.

“My. Potter is displaying signs of memory loss, obviously caused by the head trauma he sustained
in potions class. While he may be better off than Professor Snape, he should still stay at least
until tomorrow so I can observe him for any other things I might have initially missed.” Madam
Pomfrey explained and Harry eyed her suspiciously, wondering if he was just imagining the smug
undertone in her voice. It wasn't like Madam Pomfrey liked him to be in the hospital wing all
the time, right?

“Aren't you missing class Miss Granger?” Madam Pomfrey asked just as Harry opened his mouth
to ask the same thing.

“I went to Professor McGonagall and I have a pass for the rest of the day to stay with Harry and
help him with the list of homework assignments that she gave me to give to him. If he has been hurt
more than you originally thought then I should definitely stay to make sure that he can do this.”
Hermione replied quickly and Harry bit back a groan as he looked at all the books again. It was
only the first month of the new school year! He watched as Hermione looked around the hospital
wing, as if making sure that no one would over hear whatever she was going to say. Harry felt
slightly confused but ignored it when Hermione cast some sort of spell. She began pulling books
from her bag, a smile on her face.

“Now that we won't have any interruptions for awhile, we can start going over some of the
journals.” Hermione explained, handing him a small book. The cover glittered slightly, but only in
certain places, as if it had been dipped in paint and now the paint was chipping. It felt strange,
as if it was made of lizard skin.

“It's a record of how some of your ancestors used magic.” Hermione explained, her eyes
glittering.

“Where did you get this?” Harry asked, leafing through the book absently, not noticing the
strange look Hermione gave him.

“You gave them to me to translate,” she answered, a worried expression appearing on her face and
she reached out to put her hand against Harry's forehead, “Maybe Madam Pomfrey was right and
you did sustain some when you fell.”

“Hermione, what are you talking about?” Harry demanded, waving her hand away from his head, “I
never gave you any books and even if I did, where would I have gotten books from my ancestors? I
didn't know anything about my family, besides the Dursleys, or have anything from them until I
was eleven.” Harry looked at the book in his hands with a new point of view. This book was from his
family.

“Harry, don't you remember meeting with the goblins this summer? Do you remember any of the
things you told me?” Hermione asked and Harry frowned.

“Hermione, I have no idea what you're talking about,” Harry confessed and Hermione frowned
again and looked at him closely.

“Your pupils look fuzzy, what were you and Dumbledore talking about?” Hermione asked him and
Harry frowned as he tried to think.

“He was telling me I was lucky I didn't inhale more of whatever it was Neville made.” He
answered finally and raised a brow at Hermione triumphant expression.

“You were oblivated.” The bushy haired witch informed him and Harry frowned and shook his
head.

“That can't be right, and besides, who would oblivate me?” Harry countered and Hermione
rolled her eyes.

“Harry, it doesn't have more than half an hour to tell someone they were lucky they
didn't inhale more of anything. You remembered everything else just fine before entering the
hospital wing which means either Dumbledore oblivated you or Madam Pomfrey or someone came in here
while you were unconscious and I wasn't here. Since Madam Pomfrey is sure to know the dangers
of performing a memory charm on anyone with even a suspected head injury, her oath would have
prevented her from doing such a thing.” Hermione reasoned and Harry frowned.

“What oath? And why would Dumbledore of all people put a memory charm on me?” Harry demanded,
feeling something heavy in the pit of his stomach. Dumbledore couldn't have used the memory
charm. He looked at Hermione's expression and noted that she looked like she was about as sick
as he felt at the idea of Dumbledore oblivating him.

“The Hippocratic oath Harry, all healers take such an oath. In the magical world it's even
more serious since the magic of the person forces them to make sure they follow it or they risk
various consequences, losing their magic being one of the more merciful. If she did oblivate you
then the oath should have made such a spell turn back on her. As to why he would do such a thing,
well, I honestly have no idea.” Hermione answered, “But I think I have a way to undo it.”

“You do?” Harry asked, slightly disbelieving.

“Yes, well, maybe,” the witch told him with a slightly sheepish expression, “You see, two of
your ancestors, a Reyna and Mero, were experts at mind magic. I think I might be able to use a few
of their techniques to help you. My great-grandmother, Nana Kim, let me practice a little bit on
her, but I'm not so sure that the same sorts of things that helped her will help you.” Hermione
trailed off and looked at him with wide eyes.

“What exactly does this technique do?” Harry asked her, deciding to think about Dumbledore's
betrayal and what it was that had provoked such an action later.

“The human mind is capable of thinking of several things at once, even without a person
consciously realizing it. So we start by talking, mostly about subjects related to the memories
that you lost. I'll be sort of watching for those memories.” Hermione began.

“Wait, you're going to be reading my mind?” Harry yelped and then quickly looked around to
see if Madam Pomfrey had noticed his outburst and was relieved to find that she had not. Hermione
shook her head,

“No, I won't be able to do anything like that. It's more like,” she grasped for the word
she wanted and after a moment she gave up and went on with a shrug, “well, the human mind is too
complex for me to do that unless we're specifically concentrating on each other and
deliberately trying to share thoughts. What I'll be doing is sort of feeling your memories, the
emotions, the colors and such things related to them. When I think I feel something that's
related to what you've lost, I'll send a tiny shock of magic through your mind, just a
little one mind you, and that should bring what you've lost back to your conscious mind.”
Hermione explained and then she frowned, “The problem is that your ancestors never worked to bring
memories back after they've been magically removed, or if they did then they didn't record
it, so I'm not sure that I'll be able to do this for you.” She confessed.

“I thought you said you practiced on your great-grandmother.” Harry pointed out and then cowered
back slightly at the ferocious glare that Hermione turned upon him.

“Harry, I'm surprised at you!” Hermione scolded, “I wouldn't memory charm someone who
trusts me, at least not without their express consent and a very compelling reason. Nana Kim is
just very old and she gets rather muddled easily and the medication the doctors have prescribed for
her do her mind more harm than good so she didn't mind if I practiced on her.”

“All right, I'm sorry,” Harry said before she could go any further with her little tirade.
Hermione smiled slightly.

“So, how do we get started then?” Harry asked.

“Just by talking, trying to draw the memories a little further out of your subconscious then
they are now. If it doesn't work very much now then we might just have to keep trying. The
memory charm is new, so I'm not sure how that will affect the success of this technique.”
Hermione answered him and looked at him expectantly. It took Harry a moment but he caught on.

“Oh, so, um,” Harry wracked his brains for something he could talk about that might be related
to whatever he lost. Finally he came up with something.

“Why did I give you those journals anyway?” Harry asked and Hermione chuckled slightly.

“I guess the spell is still affecting you. As I said, you gave me the journals so I could
translate them. They were in some language that neither of us had ever seen before. It looked
almost like the ancient Norse runes but there was a rather Chinese influence too. Since I'm not
familiar with either of those and since they're both rather complicated, it took me a good long
time to crack it, though once I did the actual translation started to come together. I actually
haven't quite finished yet.” Hermione answered quickly.

“And you said I saw the goblins this summer? What about?” Harry asked and Hermione looked at him
shrewdly.

“If I tell you everything then there's no point in me trying to retrieve your memories.” She
said rather waspishly and Harry nodded.

“Right, sorry,” he said and shrugged, “I just can't really think of anything else to talk
about, though why would it be a bad thing if you just told me what I'm missing?” Harry
asked.

“Because there may be some details that you failed to mention to me, not thinking them important
or because you forgot. It would also be a good idea for you not to rely on my memory in case you
told Dumbledore what I suspect you told him and he finds out that I know it as well. He'd most
definitely oblivate me too.” Hermione answered and then her eyes lost focus. She reached out, as if
trying to touch something that he couldn't see. Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his head.

“Ouch!” he yelped and Hermione snapped back into focus.

“Sorry, I'm so sorry!” Hermione gasped, “I forgot that the first time I do that rather
hurts.” They sat there in silence for a moment before finally,

“So, do you remember anything new?” Hermione asked. Harry closed his eyes and thought for a
moment.

“I think I remember something new,” Harry said slowly, “I dunno where this came from but I can
remember a girl. She's wearing black robes, looks a bit like McGonagall but a lot younger,
maybe eighteen. Her hair is in a ponytail. There's something weird about her and she seems
really angry.”

“Well, that's a start Harry.” Hermione replied after a moment, an encouraging smile on her
face,

“Now, let's try to figure out some more.” She went on and Harry nodded. He took another look
at the journal in his hands and frowned when he saw something glinting at the edge of his
sleeve.

He pulled his sleeve back and his eyes widened as he looked at the strange bracelet that covered
most of his upper arm. Why hadn't he noticed that before?

“Hermione, what's this?” Harry asked, raising his arm so Hermione could get a better look at
the bracelet and the strange markings on it. Hermione frowned,

“That's your arm Harry.” She replied, sounding slightly unnerved. Harry blinked and looked
at his arm. The bracelet was right there, as plain as day.

“I was talking about the bracelet.” Harry prodded and Hermione stared at him blankly.

“Harry, you're not wearing a bracelet.” Hermione informed him and then a worried expression
appeared on her face,

“Maybe we should stop. I must have done something wrong when I pulled that memory up.” She told
him, wringing her hands in frustration and guilt.

“No!” Harry barked, startling the bushy haired girl.

“No,” Harry said again, this time more gently, “Forget about what I may or may not be seeing.
Remembering whatever it is that Dumbledore made me forget is important and unless you're sure
there's no other way…” he trailed off and looked at Hermione expectantly.

“There's not another way that will leave your mind fully intact, providing I use this
technique correctly. Just breaking Dumbledore's charm would take more power than I have and if
I did break it then I might leave you a vegetable. The technique of your ancestors circumvents the
charm so your mind will be whole.” Hermione explained, still looking worried.

“There you go, and we need this information,” Harry said confidently, “there's no other way
and this information has got to be important.” He looked at Hermione who nodded in confirmation,
“Then let's get on with it.” Harry finished.

They continued talking about whatever crossed their minds and occasionally Hermione's eyes
would grow distant again and Harry would feel that sharp stab in his mind, though as Hermione had
predicted, the pain continued to decrease as they went on.

He gained a number of memories, though very few of them seemed to have anything to do with what
he might have forgotten. He remembered his mother singing to him. He remembered his father waving a
stuffed snitch in his face and explaining quidditch to him, his mother shaking her head and
laughing in the background. He remembered a man with long dark hair carrying him and taking him
into the sky on a flying motorcycle and he remembered his mother yelling at the man afterwards.

He also gained a few memories of the strange girl and a few other people who he had no idea
about. There was a man who reminded him of the Hufflepuff seeker, another much larger man who
rather disturbed him and a third, much older man who reminded him or someone, he just couldn't
remember who. There was also a little elf creature, Dobby, with huge, tennis ball like eyes.

Finally, Madam Pomfrey came over to them, a positively murderous expression on her face.

“I've been more than lenient Ms. Granger. It's time for you to go back to the Gryffindor
tower.” Madam Pomfrey declared. Her expression just dared the two second years to contradict her.
Neither of them took the dare.

“I'll see you tomorrow Harry, we can keep going with this then.” Hermione said rather
cheerily and she gathered most of the books and papers together and left Harry to the mercies of
the school nurse.

Madam Pomfrey pulled a short brown bottle from a pocket in her robe and pulled a spoon out from
another pocket. Harry wondered if it was right for her to look so darn cheerful while she was doing
this.

“Open wide Mr. Potter, this potion will get rid of any swelling in your brain and let you get a
good night's rest.” She said and Harry opened his mouth to protest. Before he could even make a
sound, Madam Pomfrey struck and stuck the spoon and the nasty potion into his mouth.

He chocked and sputtered but swallowed it all under Madam Pomfrey's smug expression.

“There you go, I'll let you go tomorrow but for now you just rest.” Madam Pomfrey told him
and he saw darkness begin to creep into his vision. His eyelids felt tired and his head began to
wobble with the effort of holding it up.

Suddenly, he felt as if he was swimming through something very thick, like syrup. He tried to
look around but he didn't see anything but gray smoke. He tried to move, or rather swim,
forward but he seemed to be unable to get anywhere.

“You absolute idiot!” snarled a voice that seemed almost familiar. He tried and actually
succeeded in turning and he cocked his head as he tried to figure out who the girl in front of him
was. Suddenly, recognition bloomed in his mind.

“You're that girl!” he yelped, “The one that looks like McGonagall!”

The girl looked distinctly unimpressed with his memory.

I,” she began in a venomous tone, “have been watching over Potter men for generations, for
longer than you can even imagine and never, never in the entire history of your family have I
*ever* had to guard over one who is as positively thick as you seem to be! You stupid Potter
men keep marrying the smartest, most stubborn women of your generations, why in the world can't
that intelligence ever pass down?”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, wondering how a girl who couldn't have been more than
eighteen could have possibly known his family for so long. She sighed,

“And once again I get to explain it,” the girl rolled her eyes and collapsed onto the smoke
which formed a chair around her. She looked at him with a piercing glare.

“Once again, and I swear this will be the last time I ever introduce myself to you or I will
personally torment your soul for the remainder of eternity, my name is Mina.”

“Right, Mina, got it,” Harry gulped, trying to shrink away from the furious woman.

“You pretty much failed at life several times already. Do it again and I'll be demoted. If
you manage to get it right, and that means beating the snake freak, marrying and having lots of
little Potters for me to watch over and not dying until you reach some ridiculously old age, then
I'll get promoted. I really want to be promoted.” Mina informed him. Harry nodded.

“I took Voldemort's soul fragment,” she stared and held up a hand to forestall Harry's
questions, “Talk to Hermione about that, I don't have the patience to repeat it. I took the
soul fragment from your head. I gave you a way to safely dispose of the others, the little box in
your pocket. I gave you that bracelet to help you get over what the Dursleys did to you and to
unlock your potential and your champion friends' potential. I even shielded your mind myself
and you can't seem to go more than a bloody month without getting into some danger that would
have kill you. To make it worse, you almost killed Snape.”

“Why on earth would that make things worse?” Harry demanded, feeling a horrible rage at the
mention of the greasy professor.

“His guardian doesn't like me and the greasy git needs to survive at least until your
seventh year. I don't know why, nor do I care since he isn't my charge but if you make
things any more difficult, the previous threat remains. Got it?” Mina snarled at him. Harry nodded
weakly and Mina grinned.

“Fantastic. Now, I've run out of time. Good bye Harry, good luck, don't trust Dumbledore
with anything important and if you ever need me, well,” she paused and for a moment Harry could
have sworn that her face flickered between a normal face and a skull, “just use this.” Mina said
and started to hand him a slip of paper. Harry almost had it when she pulled it away,

“But only use it for emergencies. Anything other than an emergency and you're due to a good
hundred years of soul torment.” She warned him. Harry gulped and nodded and Mina gave him the
paper.

“Alright then, good luck.” She chirped and the grey smoke swirled around her and in moment she
disappeared. The boy-who-lived sighed and started to try to walk through the murky smoke. Just as
he thought he was making some progress, a sharp pain stabbed him in his stomach.

Harry shot up in his bed and tried to see what had happened but everything was blurry. He groped
around for his glasses, a strange vibration making it difficult, but he finally found them.

When he could focus he saw the little elf jumping on the bed. When the little elf noticed that
Harry was look at him he stopped and hunched over, his eyes even wider than normal.

“Dobby is so glad to see Harry Potter sir awake.” Dobby groveled, “Dobby has been so worried
about Harry Potter sir.”

“What are you doing?” Harry demanded.

“Dobby is here to ask Harry Potter sir to please to be going home. Hogwarts is dangerous for
Harry Potter sir.” Dobby said earnestly and Harry shook his head.

“I'm sorry Dobby, but I can't. I won't go to the Dursleys anymore than I have to,
especially not when I could be at Hogwarts.” Harry replied firmly and he saw tears form in the
elf's huge eyes.

“Then Dobby is very sorry Harry Potter sir but Harry Potter sir must leave Hogwarts.” The elf
replied and with a snap he disappeared, leaving Harry alone in the dark hospital wing.

Then, with nothing better to do, he cast a lighting charm and began to go through the books that
Hermione left and he did his best not to look at the scrap of paper that had definitely not been
there before.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

And there you have it. I sincerely hope this was worth the wait and I thank you all for being so
patient with me. This chapter is dedicated to my grandmother since it's her birthday, and
I'll take this space to wish my dad, brother, cousins, aunt and other grandmother a very happy
belated b-day.

I'll try to get the next chapter out faster.

-->



15. Enemies of the Heir
-----------------------



I do not own Harry Potter. If I did then things would have been considerably different, like
someone else being pushed through the veil instead of Sirius, Remus and Tonks living happily
together with lots of children, and various other things that, if I mention them in my disclaimer
will probably ruin certain events I have planned for this story. I'd also like to thank all of
you who've reviewed so far, you guys rock. You are among the best people in the world, even
those of you who leave remarks bordering close to flames. All of these comments help immensely so
thank you. The rest of you, thanks for reading and I hope you continue to enjoy the story

_______________________________________________________________________

*Then, with nothing better to do, he cast a lighting charm and began to go through the books
that Hermione left and he did his best not to look at the scrap of paper that had definitely not
been there before.*

“I can set people on fire.” It was the first thing that Harry told Hermione when he was finally
released from the care of Madam Pomfrey. Hermione blinked and raised a brow.

“And how did you discover this?” she asked in a mild voice as they walked through the hallways
towards the Great Hall. Ron wasn't there and Harry wondered the feeling of relief from not
seeing the red head was wrong. Hermione's eyes became unfocused and Harry felt the increasingly
familiar shock of her back race through his brain. For a moment he concentrated on the memory and
stopped briefly and a frown appeared on his face. He thrust the memory into the back of his mind
and brought himself back to the conversation. Hermione was waiting for his answer, a glint of
impatience appearing in her eyes.

“I got a little angry last night.” Harry admitted, only somewhat reluctantly as he recalled the
incident. He had been reading through the journals, trying not to think about the information that
had been dumped on him and the idea that Dumbledore had betrayed his trust by casting a memory
charm of all things on him. He was trying not to give himself a headache by attempting to remember
whatever it was he forgot on his own. Mostly he was trying not to be angry about the whole
situation. It was rather difficult, especially since a perfectly good target for his anger was
right there, just a few beds away and unconscious and therefore incapable of taking away points in
the event that a student was all but shouting quite a few rather creative combinations of various
words that would have caused his Aunt Petunia to wash his mouth out with soap.

It was nice to let out all his frustration like that. He mentally resolved to do it more often,
though how he could manage to yell at Snape without major consequences was, as of yet, unknown to
him.

Unfortunately, he had apparently somehow developed the ability to set things on fire and that
talent got away from him as he yelled at the greasy potions master. He still wasn't certain if
it was a good thing that Madam Pomfrey had detected the smoke in time to put out the fire on
Snape's clothes before any significant damage was made- though he was leaning towards it being
a good thing only because he didn't want to have to deal with an angry Mina again.
Unfortunately Madam Pomfrey had noticed that he was awake and dosed him with dreamless sleep potion
which had not fully worn off so he was still a little drowsy.

Hermione was looking at him curiously but he didn't feel inclined to elaborate any
further.

They began to wolf down their breakfast but before they finished Ron appeared at the table, a
large grin on his face.

“Yesterday was brilliant, wasn't it?” Ron said as he began to pile food onto his plate.

“Yeah Ron, brilliant.” Harry replied absently as he finished off the last of his breakfast.

He and Hermione left, ignoring Ron as he called out at them through the food that he had already
stuffed into his mouth. He had plans for today and he didn't have time to deal with the boy who
niggling memories proclaimed him less than an asset.

“Harry, where are we going?” Hermione asked after they completely passed the defense classroom.
Mentally Harry wondered what kind of an idiot believed that more than one class with Lockhart in a
week, or at all, was a good idea.

“I'm not exactly sure,” Harry confessed, “But there's something this way that'll be
useful. I lost a lot the other day, and I don't just mean my memories so I figured that I'd
better start trying to regain it as fast as possible.” He stopped for a moment and turned back to
her,

“You could go to defense of course, I don't want to make you miss class.” Harry assured her
and Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Harry, I'm not going to class, especially when you've suddenly discovered a talent for
setting things afire. Who's to say that you won't accidentally set yourself afire if
I'm not there to help you?” Hermione told him, a hint of a smile on her face and then her eyes
became distant and Harry paused for a moment as another memory came to mind. He shuddered and made
a face.

“Definitely not going to defense today,” Harry muttered. Hermione shot him a questioning glance
but he refused to elaborate.

They continued to walk and Harry stopped midway up the stairs and Hermione frowned,

“What's the matter now?” Hermione huffed.

“I don't know where I'm going.” Harry confessed sheepishly and Hermione rolled her
eyes.

“Come on,” she said, pulling ahead of him. He pretended not to notice the sudden hint of pink
that appeared on her cheeks as he grabbed his hand.

“I think I know where you meant to lead us.” She continued and they walked until they reached
the seventh floor. Harry watched as Hermione paced back and forth in front of the wall across from
a strange tapestry with ballet dancing trolls and a door appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

“Room of requirement, you showed it to me yesterday,” Hermione told Harry before he even started
to ask.

*If she keeps answering things before I ask then it might be pretty annoying* Harry thought
absently as he followed his friend through the door that had just appeared.

The first thing he noticed was that the room was large, very, very large. At least three
quidditch pitches could have easily fit inside with room to spare and his neck hurt just to try to
squint up at the ceiling. The entire floor was covered with a strange black material that felt
rather spongy under his feet and the same sort of stuff extended up the walls up to where Harry
estimated Hagrid's head would be. A track of the spongy material was red and extended in a loop
around the giant room for as far as Harry could see. In the center of the room were several tall,
wooden polls with targets painted on them at various points. By the door were several leather
balls, each one about the size of an apple and when he picked one of them up they seemed to be
filled with sand.

“Strange,” he heard Hermione mutter and he glanced over at her. She was poking at the black
stuff on the walls.

“Didn't you know what this place would look like if you've been here before?” Harry
asked, jumping slightly, testing the black stuff to see how bouncy it was.

“The room is always different, depending on what the person concentrates on when they summon it.
I concentrated on a place we could test our new powers without hurting ourselves or each other.”
Hermione answered as she walked a little further out into the enormous room, “But I wasn't
expecting it to be this big.” Her voice echoed in the room.

“Well, let's get started.” Harry said and Hermione smiled and nodded.

Harry started by trying to remember the feelings that had allowed him to summon the night
before. By pretending the wood was Snape, Harry was quickly flinging fire at his chosen
targets.

While Harry acted on his pyromaniac tendencies, he kept one eye on Hermione who was apparently
trying to teach herself to juggle.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked when he finally managed to summon a small flame without
picturing his potions professor being subjected to a horrible death by fire. He wasn't exactly
sure why he was so angry at Snape but he suspected it had something to do with the memories he was
still missing.

“Just a moment,” Hermione answered, her expression one of deep concentration. Harry shrugged and
continued to work with the fire in his hands.

Suddenly, one of the leather spheres came whizzing past his head to crash into the wooden pole,
scattering bits of wood all over the place, nearly taking out one of Harry's eyes in the
process. Fear shot through him for a brief moment and he raised his arm and turned away to try to
avoid the wood flying at him. The ball of golden fire in his hand flared and a moment later, Harry
stopped cringing and looked. He was surrounded by a wall of cherry red fire.

“Harry!” Hermione gasped and she rushed towards him, but the fire shield had not been
dispersed.

“I'm okay,” Harry called out to her as he looked at the red flames that surrounded him.

It took the better part of an hour for Harry to figure out how dismiss the shield from around
him.

“You're lucky the fire didn't close all the way around you or you would have
suffocated,” Hermione observed, “And how did you do that?” she added.

“I have no idea.” Harry confessed. He was getting rather tired with the knowledge that he had
all these powers but he had no idea how to really use them. He felt like he was back in the hut on
that rocky little island the Dursleys took him to in the attempt to keep him from going to Hogwarts
and Hagrid had just come and informed him that he was a wizard. It was confusing, overwhelming and
just slightly annoying that information was still being kept back from him.

“Well then, I guess the only way to find out is by recreating the circumstances that caused the
reaction.” Hermione mused and before Harry got a proper chance to react, she threw one of the
leather spheres at him.

But the wall of fire did not reappear. Instead, Harry dodged it by just a hair. He ran back to
where it had landed and retaliated by throwing the ball back at his friend with a stunning spell
thrown immediately afterward.

Hermione dodged the ball and the spell, though not as gracefully as Harry had managed to dodge
and she quickly cast a spell of her own that streaked through the air, a jet of purple, followed by
three balls that twisted through the air. Harry smiled as he heard her laugh. They dodged each
other's spells and the leather balls as they were tossed back and forth. It soon became less
about trying to recreate the fire shield and more to see who could dodge the others' spell the
longest.

By the end of the practice session, Hermione's nose had grown, her skin was neon orange,
horns grew out of her forehead and she couldn't walk on her jelly jinxed legs.

Harry also had a set of his own horns, he had also lost his voice and the nails on his feet and
hand had both grown three feet long.

“That was fun,” Hermione giggled as she began to cast the spells to reverse the various jinxes
and curses that remained on them, starting with the curse that had taken his voice from him so he
could help her remove everything.

“I guess we missed more than just defense.” Harry muttered as they left the room of
requirements. People were coursing out of the doorways and even from the seventh floor he could
smell what had to be dinner. His stomach rumbled.

“I think you're right.” Hermione replied and they walked toward the great hall. But when
they reached the second floor, Hermione stopped for a moment, her eyes wide.

“Harry, you said that you haven't been able to find the diary.” Hermione gulped and for a
moment Harry frowned but a sharp jab from Hermione's magic brought the memories to the front of
his mind and he paled. He remembered what he had tried to stop the attacks from happening. He
didn't think he could go through it all again. He couldn't go through the fear, the
suspicion of all the students. But most of all, he knew that he couldn't handle seeing
Hermione, pale and stiff and cold on the hospital bed, looking as if she was dead, unable to see or
hear anything, unable to talk to him or nag at him. He couldn't go through that again.

“I've tried summoning the stupid thing since we got on the train,” Harry growled, “Before
Dumbledore pulled that memory stunt I checked the map every day for people who were wandering
closer than usual to Myrtle's bathroom and I got nothing!”

“Doesn't the possessed person have to go to Myrtle's bathroom in order to get at the
basilisk? And isn't the basilisk really more the problem at the moment?” Hermione asked and
Harry's eyes widened.

“That's it!” he yelped. He had been concentrating so long on the diary that he had forgotten
that it wasn't really the true threat, at least not unless it managed to suck out someone's
life force. Of course, Dumbledore's meddling was in part to blame with his lack of mental
acuity. He pushed that thought aside for the moment. The basilisk was the real threat and he knew
what to do with the basilisk. He began to walk against the crowd, towards Moaning Myrtle's
bathroom, “Just go save me a seat.” Harry called back to Hermione. The girl rolled her eyes and
caught up with Harry.

“Don't kill the snake yet.” She told him and he paused and stared at her.

“What?” he asked, certain that she couldn't have told him not to kill the basilisk.

“You heard me. You can't kill the snake, at least not right now.” Hermione repeated, “You
don't have a rooster which is the only safe way known to kill a basilisk, fire would just warm
up the place which would make the snake more active and I'm not going to let you charge down
there with just your wand.” She growled.

“But like you said, the basilisk is the threat. I've fought it before!” Harry protested
weakly.

“And this time you'll do it better. The person won't strike until Halloween, isn't
that right?” she asked and Harry nodded in confirmation, very glad that his best friend had been
able to release that knowledge.

“Then we'll ask Myrtle to watch out for whoever comes to her bathroom more than usual,”
Hermione counseled and a mischievous expression appeared on her face, “I'm very sure she'll
do anything *you* ask.”

Harry glared at her.

“Fine,” he finally agreed, “But I don't like relying on just Myrtle. She'll be invited
to Nick's death day party, or she'll at least show up to it and that's on Halloween.
Someone will upset her and she'll be no use watching the entrance, she'll be too busy
sobbing.” He reasoned and Hermione nodded in agreement and bit her lip.

“I don't know any sort of wards or anything that we could put around the bathroom.” She
confessed, “And even if I did, any magic cast on Hogwarts is automatically registered and everyone
connected to and accepted by Hogwarts in any capacity besides student is notified.”

“It is?” Harry replied, thinking about it. That would explain how a teacher, usually Snape, got
to any spur of the moment hexing between students in the hallway before they escalated too far. It
would also explain how the elves and Filch usually managed to clean up magic based messes so
quickly.

“It says so in Hogwarts: A History*.” Hermione replied primly and Harry thought for a moment.
Then he blinked and grinned.

“You may not know a way to counteract the notifications,” he started, “But I bet the twins
do.”

Hermione smiled in return and she started to head for the Great Hall but stopped when she
realized that Harry wasn't following her.

“You go on ahead,” he told her, “I'll go talk to Myrtle. It'll be better to have her
watching even if she won't be as dependable. You can talk to the twins and ask them about
setting up some security around her bathroom.”

Hermione nodded and just before she left, Harry felt the sharp jab of her magic and remembered a
previous conversation with the twins concerning a cage and a certain rat.

*One thing at a time* he told himself as somewhat reluctantly he made his way to
Myrtle's bathroom.

“Harry!” cooed the voice of Moaning Myrtle as soon as he entered the dull room. He repressed a
shiver as the ghost girl twined her arms around his neck in a chilling simile.

“Hello Myrtle,” he replied, feeling both unnerved and rather sorry for the girl. She was
obviously rather lonely if she was clinging to him this quickly. He felt the niggling of another
memory in the back of his mind but without Hermione there it could not penetrate Dumbledore's
measures to keep him from realizing what the memory was about.

“Myrtle, I have a little bit of a favor to ask you.” He told the basilisk's victim and she
looked at him with such blind devotion he felt rather nauseous and wondered if someone had somehow
cast a spell on her.

“What is it Harry?” she asked, batting her eyes at him.

“I was wondering if you wouldn't mind keeping an eye on that sink that Hermione and I cast
that spell on the other day.” Harry said, remembering the lie he and Hermione had told her just in
time, “There's something down there, a birthday present, and I don't want anyone except for
myself to go down there. If someone tries, would you mind coming to tell me?” he continued to
lie.

Myrtle frowned for a moment and looked at him coyly.

“I will,” she started and Harry felt a shiver run down his spine at the expression that appeared
on the girl's face as she continued, “if you promise that you'll come and talk to me and
you give me a kiss.”

He hoped that his face didn't reflect the horror he felt at the idea of kissing the ghost
girl.

*If she was Hermione maybe* hissed that little voice and he blushed slightly and ignored
it.

“Um, well,” he stuttered, backing away from the ghost who glided closer with every step he
took.

“Well, not right now then,” Myrtle said finally as she suddenly backed away, “When you're
older though, I'll be collecting my kiss.” She said and Harry gulped and finally nodded and
with that he fled as quickly as he could without insulting the temperamental ghost until he reached
the stairs and he ran as fast as he pleased.

When he got to the Great Hall, most people had already sat down. Hermione waved over to him and
he sat down next to her, the twins across from him.

“Did you ask them?” he whispered to his friend, trying to forget Myrtle's request. Hermione
nodded.

“We'll take care of it Harry.” Fred informed him.

“And we have that other thing ready too.” George added and he held up a tiny bird cage, no
bigger than a fingernail. Harry looked at it with apprehension.

“Er,” he wanted to say something but he couldn't really think of anything that wouldn't
be insulting. Both of the twins grinned at him.

“Don't worry Harry,” George started,

“It'll be much bigger when you get the you-know-what,” his twin continued.

“Until then, we don't get as many questions about a charm for a bracelet,”

“Than we would about a giant cage.” The two finished together. Harry nodded in
understanding,

“Good job,” he told them, “and thank you, thank you very much.”

The twins grinned again but Harry could see their eyes were serious. He watched as George
flicked his wand and felt the sound around him soften somehow, as if he had been surrounded by
cotton.

“But as we've explained to Hermione,”

“We've got some new tricks,”

“That we need a safe place to practice,”

“And people to practice on.” A wicked glint appeared in their eyes and Harry couldn't help
but laugh and he was glad to hear Hermione's own chuckle.

“Well, if you don't mind skipping defense or history…” Harry trailed off and smiled at the
twin's expressions when he mentioned defense.

“Why on earth,”

“Would we mind missing a class,”

“taught by such a self absorbed git?”

“But Harry didn't say anything about skipping potions.” Hermione said innocently and the
three boys looked at her incredulously before they burst into laughter.

From that day on the twins joined Harry and Hermione as they skipped History and defense in
favor of going to the room of requirement to practice their powers. Hermione increased how many
things she could move and Harry increased his proficiency with the fire to the point where he could
finally create the fire shield at will, but he had not been able to make it last as long as that
first accidental one. The twins showed a talent for wandless illusions, Fred with visual illusions
and George with illusions that affected the hearing and on occasion the other senses as well. When
they combined their powers it was almost impossible for anyone besides themselves to tell what was
real and what was illusion.

What infuriated Hermione was when the twins discovered a new talent, one that they delighted in
using against her just for her reaction. They could apparate *within* Hogwarts.

It was discovered by accident. Harry was trying to regain his own ability to levitate and freeze
things. Hermione was attempting to follow a meditation technique that one of the books described
and had fallen into a deep trance while over a dozen of the sand filled balls that the room
provided flew in orbit around her. Her eyes would be blank and the pigtail she had taken to putting
her hair into after Harry lost control of his fire long enough to singe her hair would be floating
slightly.

Harry managed to gain control of one of the spheres for a moment, just long enough for Hermione
to unconsciously realize that she had lost control of something. They fought for control of the
sphere until the combined force of their attempts made the ball sling shot away from them, right
towards Fred's head. It would have killed him if Fred had not suddenly popped out of the
way.

Hermione broke out of her trance and both she and Harry were very apologetic but when Fred
realized that he could pop in and out at will without being threatened, he waved aside their
apologies. Only moments after Fred discovered his new talent, George tried and succeeded in doing
the same but no matter how much he tried, Harry couldn't replicate their talent. Hermione
didn't try at all.

“You cannot apparate in Hogwarts!” she would snarl, glaring at the twins when she said so. They
would just roll their eyes, pop out of sight only to reappear and pull at the pigtail or pinch her
cheeks, laughing at her irritation.

While the trained, Harry tried to come up with a good way to approach Luna. The strange girl
seemed to have made a small circle of friends, which made Harry feel a little better about
accidentally interfering with her sorting. But at the same time it made him feel a little reluctant
to interfere with her life. She seemed happy and it was funny to watch her put various costumes on
the rat, everything from a tutu to a sari of all things. When she very loudly announced that female
rats no longer had to worry because her rat could no longer bother them Harry choked on his meal.
Hermione had to perform the Heimlich maneuver on him. He had been sending Sirius bi weekly care
packages covered in every charm he, Hermione and the twins could find to make sure that only Sirius
could access them. Because of Harry's inability to provide proof of Sirius's innocence
without tipping off the rat, the twins were still under the impression that he was sending the
packages to his room so the Dursleys couldn't nearly starve him like they almost did in the
past summer.

Besides the Luna problem things were going smoothly, very smoothly. A vivacious blonde woman had
replaced the still comatose Professor Snape. Her name was Professor Destiny Queens and she had more
than half of the school in love with her. Madam Pomfrey was getting used to students attempting to
prolong Snape's coma by various means thinking it would keep the beautiful professor in the
school.

Harry wasn't sure how he felt about the very healthy looking woman. On the one hand, she was
a much better teacher than Snape. On the other hand, there was something about her that unsettled
him, especially the way her eyes seemed to linger on the bracelet that he wore.

“What's going on?” Harry asked, putting the pretty teacher away from his mind, when he noted
the pumpkins that were suddenly popping up all over the place.

“Tonight is Halloween.” Hermione answered, her voice wary. Harry started and frowned. It
couldn't be Halloween already. Time had gone by too quickly, Nick hadn't even invited him
to the death day party. He blinked.

For that matter, besides Myrtle, none of the ghosts had come near him. He frowned, something was
wrong.

“Come on Harry,” Hermione said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes, “Don't worry
about it.”

They went through the day without any incidents, even Professor Queens ignored him.

Harry was growing jumpier as the feast grew closer and it didn't help that there seemed to
be absolutely no sign of anything wrong. But there was something that had his hair on end and made
him feel jumpy.

“Calm down,” Hermione hissed.

“Everything bad always happens on Halloween,” Harry hissed back, “And look, Dumbledore isn't
here!”

It was true, the old Headmaster was missing. Professor McGonagall had taken his usual spot at
the table but she looked distinctly uncomfortable.

He almost made it through the entire feast but the feeling of wrongness, the feeling that he
should be doing something kept increasing. He ignored the jovial atmosphere and ignored the fact
that the twins had apparently come up with canary creams much sooner than they had in the previous
timeline.

“Come on Harry,” Hermione said suddenly and he looked up from his pumpkin pie, surprise evident
in his eyes.

“There's only a few minutes left of the feast,” Fred told him, a wicked grin on his
face.

“And it might be prudent to leave a little early this time.” George added, an equally wicked
expression on his own face.

Harry returned the grin and as quietly as they could, the four snuck away from the Great
Hall.

“I need to check something really quick.” Harry told the other three and they nodded in
agreement.

“The tower will be the first place people come looking for us anyway.” George muttered.

Harry walked quickly towards Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, knowing he only had a few minutes
before the rest of the students in the Great Hall left.

*Give me my freedom, let me rip, let me kill, let me feast!* Harry heard the low hissing
and he quickened his pace.

“Fred, George, conjure some mirrors.” Harry barked and the twins blinked but they obeyed and
conjured a set of mirrors. Harry and Hermione both took one of them and Harry slowed down. They
turned so they could see where they were going through the mirrors. Hermione gasped and nearly
dropped hers. She turned around, her eyes wide.

“Harry,” she whispered as she pointed to the floating figure, “look.”

Moaning Myrtle, black and smoky and floating on her back. She looked horrified and behind her
was Mrs. Norris hanging on the candle scone by her tale.

“Check the traps.” Harry ordered as he moved to get a closer look at the words on the wall.

**The Chamber of Secrets has been opened**

**Nice try mudbloods but nothing will stop me this time**

“Harry, the traps, all of them were dismantled.” Fred said after a moment. They heard the murmur
of a large crowd coming their way.

“The map!” George hissed and Harry pulled the piece of parchment from his pocket.

“I solemnly swear I am up to no good!” he hissed and the spidery lines of ink seemed to flow at
an incredibly slow rate over the parchment as they formed the map.

“This way!” Hermione hissed, being the fastest one to comprehend what the map was showing them.
She moved the arm of one of the knights and a small niche opened up.

“Move over!” George hissed as they scrunched into the tiny opening.

“You first!” Hermione growled back. They waited until part of the crowed passed them and then
slipped in behind a pair of hufflepuffs.

“What's going on?” Harry asked in as innocent of a tone as he could manage.

“The chamber of secrets, it's been opened!” came the whispered reply and both Harry and
Hermione let out small groans.

“Not again.” Harry muttered. He turned to stalk back to the Gryffindor tower, Hermione close on
his heels while the twins remained behind.

There, now that this is done maybe I can finally concentrate on my stupid essay! Note: not
betad, often written at one in the morning but I did run it through spell check. Please leave a
review and tell me what you think.

Binboo hima nasai

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16. Dumbledore Speaks
---------------------



I know this may come as a shock but I don't own Harry Potter

Also as a special surprise, both to you my beloved readers and to me since he originally refused
to explain his reasoning and because he wasn't supposed to do anything like this,
Dumbledore's somehow managed to hijack the first little bit of this chapter and then we'll
be getting back to the heroes of the story. To all my reviewers- I adore you and wish to give you
cookies, to those who haven't reviewed, no cookies for you but thanks for reading and I hope
you continue to do so. Many thanks and extra cookies to reptilia28 for the challenge that started
this story and extra thanks and cupcakes to CompVizer for being my 200th reviewer and
Paladeus for being kind enough to let me bounce ideas off of him, and now onto the real reason
you're reading this

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

*The chamber of secrets, it's been opened!” came the whispered reply and both Harry and
Hermione let out small groans.*

*“Not again.” Harry muttered. He turned to stalk back to the Gryffindor tower, Hermione close
on his heels while the twins remained behind*

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

In centuries past Halloween was a day that people believed that the barriers between their world
and others would become thing or even disappear for brief moments. Some wizards would take
advantage of this and use various rituals to increase their powers or use the strange occurrences
of the special night to scare their mundane neighbors. Other wizards were more prudent, and kinder,
and used their magics and various ceremonies including dressing up as the visitors in order to
drive off whatever would come to visit on this special day. Muggles watched and mimicked their
procedures by dressing up in their own costumes.

Time went by and knowledge was lost, Halloween went from a sacred, dangerous time to a frivolous
holiday with only feasting and muggles trick or treating to remind people of its power. To grown
wizards it was little better than an excuse to dress up, visit friends and indulge in rich foods
and drink. For the younger people, both wizarding and muggle, it was an excuse to throw eggs at
peoples' houses, put shaving cream on their doorbells and pull other pranks on various
residences. One particular residence on Spinner's End was an especially popular target for such
pranks.

In modern times however, Halloween had reached a level of popularity not seen since ancient
times, or at least since the Halloween a rather mercenary Hufflepuff of all people had figured out
and sold the current password to Snape's room in Hogwarts. The reason for this almost
unprecedented popularity was the fact that it was the anniversary of the defeat of Voldemort, one
of the most terrifying and wicked wizards in recent history.

As one of the more influential and popular members of wizarding society, Albus Dumbledore had
been receiving invitations for numerous Halloween parties for decades. Generally he chose not to
attend, preferring to spend his holidays at his beloved Hogwarts. But this year, Pernelle had
written to him of her decision to follow her husband to the next great adventure on Halloween and
so he had chosen to do the right thing by being with his old friend and mentor on the sad occasion.
When he returned to the school and discovered what had happened Dumbledore felt an irrational
resentment towards the Flamel widow and he spent the next several house examining the scene of the
crime and discussing with the staff as to what the words on the wall could possibly mean and what
could have happened. It was two in the morning before he could leave things alone and go to try to
get some sleep. He stopped at the entrance and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to keep calm.
Being the headmaster of the most high profile school in the Northern hemisphere was sometimes more
trouble than it was worth, especially in recent years with the rise of the bureaucracy and
Fudge's whole hearted adoration of any and all form of avoiding real work.

Bloody paperwork he mentally grumbled and he turned away from the entrance of his personal
quarters and began to walk to his office, his tired mind still trying to deal with the grief that
came with Pernelle's passing and the various emotions that this terrible occurrence had
summoned.

How could the chamber have been opened? Dumbledore thought to himself as he wearily walked up
the stairs to his office. No matter how the aged headmaster turned the problem around in his head
he came up with the same answer, it was impossible. The chamber couldn't have been opened
again. The true heir of Slytherin had not set foot in Hogwarts for decades and no one else knew the
location of the chamber. And just in case poor Harry did have some truth in his babblings, he had
ordered the house elves to search every students' belongings and bring to him the diary if they
should find it and they had come through and brought him the journal that young Harry had described
in that strange discussion after the mess with poor Severus.

But despite what Harry had claimed, the elves had not found a diary anything like the
description that Harry had given* leaving the aged headmaster with the problem of two creatures
being petrified and the only real suspect being hundreds of miles away in Albania with no possible
way of being able to get into Hogwarts and getting to wherever the chamber was hidden. The only
possible answer he could come up with was that the chamber hadn't really been open; it was just
a copy cat. But the matter of Myrtle's petrification bothered him. What sort of person had the
power to petrify a ghost?

Still, for now he pushed the matter aside and turned his attentions to what to do about young
Harry Potter.

To think that someone was wicked and foolish enough to have tricked Harry like that Dumbledore
thought, feeling angry with whomever it had been who had convinced Harry that they had knowledge of
the future. Not even a true seer could have come up with such a complete story and since traveling
backwards an inhabiting the past body was impossible it had clearly been a ploy to put the boy in
danger. However he also felt curious as to whom the person could possibly be. Some of the things
that Harry had revealed were obviously false, such as the silly idea that Severus would betray him
like that and the impossible idea that Sirius Black was innocent and could escape Azkaban. After
all, he had full confidence in severus and he had personally cast the fidelius to hide the Potters,
using Sirius Black as the secret keeper.*

But other things, such as the idea that Tom had attempted to create seven horcruxes, those ideas
were closer to his own theories than he was willing to admit. Whoever had managed to subvert the
protections around Harry in the past summer must have been a master of Dark magic and very close to
Tom, there was no other explanation. He felt yet another burst of rather uncharacteristic anger
towards this mystery person who had interfered in Harry's childhood. The poor boy had already
lost enough, he didn't need a Dark wizard messing with his memories and prodding him towards
yet another adventure where he could get himself killed.

“At least I managed to save him from this potential disaster,” Dumbledore said to himself as he
looked through the papers on his desk. He still felt guilty over being foolish enough to fall for
the fake owl from the ministry and for Harry nearly getting killed all over a fake stone that was
merely bait to catch Voldemort and banish him for good. Awarding Gryffindor enough points to win
the house cup and persuading the Dark Force Defense League to make Harry a senior member were all
well and good but he knew that both acts were still more token sort of apologies. He knew that he
still owed Harry a great deal for putting the child in such danger. What had he been thinking? Why
had he used such a dangerous trap in a school of children? If a single thing had gone wrong then it
would have been a slaughter! A single mistake and Tom would have had a new body and used that to
take all of the children of his followers and forced them to also follow him and then he would have
murdered Harry, Harry and every single muggle born child in the castle and from there he would have
control of Hogwarts and he would have been powerless to stop Tom this time around. And that
wasn't even considering the troublemakers who could have gotten eaten by Hagrid's Cerberus.
Why had he practically dared the students to go to the third floor corridor? He had been teaching
for nearly one hundred years, he knew how students would take such an announcement.

“I won't fail him again, I won't fail my students again, I can't let that happen
again,” Dumbledore promised himself, and he absently put a lemon drop into his mouth. He felt the
strange, familiar feeling of floating envelope him as he ate the sour candy and he smiled, feeling
a new sense of confidence in himself.

He was Albus Percival Wulfric Dumbledore, the greatest wizard in recent times. He could handle
any problems that came his way and protect everyone. True there were going to be some people put in
danger and there would be people who objected to his methods but he was doing what was best. It was
all for the Greater Good after all.

He helped himself to another lemon drop, they really were very good, just the right balance of
acidity and sweetness.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and he smiled blankly as he ate more of the delightfully sour
little candies and went through the paperwork almost mechanically, taking no real notice of what he
was signing and what he was discarding.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

If Harry had been aware of Dumbledore's promise to himself and his plans to keep a closer
eye on the boy-who-lived then he would have been fairly horrified and extremely annoyed. But as it
was he did not and so ignorance on this matter proved, for the moment, to be bliss, mostly.
Unfortunately for Harry, the knowledge that someone had the diary and the basilisk was loose along
with the newest training schedule that Hermione had developed and Oliver's sudden demand for
increased quidditch practice was driving him very nearly insane. He had not slept well the previous
night, too concerned with visions of the basilisk being let loose on the school and the mystery
diary holder wreaking havoc on the wizarding world at large.

He glared up at the man at the front of the classroom who was only serving to make things
worse.

Hermione had unfortunately been able to pull a few more memories concerning their useless
defense teacher and just as in the previous timeline, Lockhart had not brought a single live
creature to class since the pixie episode. So far Harry had managed to avoid acting out anything
from the ridiculous books since he had not attended a single defense class since the first one, but
today his luck had run out- Lockhart himself had managed to somehow corner both the boy who lived
and Hermione after their transfiguration class and practically dragged them along with him, all the
while babbling on and on about himself and admonishing both of them for missing so much class.

And now they were stuck in Lockhart's useless class and Harry was struggling to keep his
eyes open. He had slept poorly, plagued by nightmares that he couldn't remember and he was sick
and tired of not remembering things. If he had just gone with his instincts and killed the basilisk
when he had the chance then this wouldn't have happened.

“Harry,” a voice cut through his self loathing and he looked up to see the stupid excuse of a
professor looking down at him, his teeth gleaming in an unnatural fashion.

“Harry,” the fake repeated, “Why don't you come up here and help me demonstrate how I saved
a town from a plague of werewolves?”

“How about I just sit here and watch your technique.” Harry snapped in reply, his fingers just
itching to take out his wand and hex the git so he spend this time doing something productive, like
practice, or take a nap, or find whoever had the dairy.

Lockhart frowned for a moment, before he remembered that frowning would cause wrinkles and he
quickly smiled condescendingly at the green eyed wizard.

“Harry, Harry, Harry,” he started, “I know that it may seem that there are some things that are
beneath you, after all, you do have some claim to fame what with that whole you-know-who mess,”

“His name is Voldemort, or Tom Marvolo Riddle if you prefer,” Harry interrupted, ignoring
everyone's flinches as he began to gather his books together. There was no point in being
here.

“Come on now Harry, keeping the other students from learning just because you're too proud
isn't fair on them.” Lockhart said as he smiled in what he probably thought was a paternal
fashion. Harry repressed a shudder as he glared at the smiling idiot.

“I'm not keeping them from learning. If anything, you're the one that's keeping them
from learning. You haven't shown us a single, working spell or given us any information about
creatures that are actually dangerous. All you've done was tell us ridiculous stories about
yourself. I could teach better than you!” Harry snarled at the incompetent blonde, too tired and
too concerned with other things to bother trying to polite. He started towards the door. The entire
class, barring Hermione, gaped after him. Professor Lockhart looked as if he had been hit over the
head with a fish. Harry didn't bother to look back as he stormed out of the classroom.

Harry was halfway down the hall when Lockhart regained what few senses he had and he rushed out
of the classroom after his famous pupil.

“Mr. Potter! You get back here or you'll be serving detention!” Lockhart bellowed and Harry
didn't even bother to turn around.

He toyed with the idea of going back to bed but shook his head. He was too wound up to try to
sleep and Hermione would kill him if he tried going after the basilisk now without even the sword
of Gryffindor to help him. Instead, he went straight to the room of requirements and began to
practice. He ran laps around the room's giant interior, dodged the various projectiles that the
room obligingly hurled at him from each and every angle and practiced his wandless magic until he
collapsed from exhaustion. When he awoke, he would repeat the process, taking breaks only when a
house elf would appear with snacks or when he needed to relieve himself or puke up the snacks
because he worked too hard, at which point the room would create a bathroom that would make
Harry's subconscious nag at him. But without Hermione the boy-who-lived had no idea what to do
to bring the memory to the forefront of his mind so he simply trained even harder to try to ignore
it.

He was in the middle of another cycle of training when he realized that he was no longer
alone.

“Luna?” Harry gasped and as soon as his attention wandered, three of the room's projectiles
hit him in quick succession.

“Ouch!” Harry yelped and cursed as he concentrated on making the room stop. The blonde girl
looked at him with a smile on her face.

“Hello Harry,” she said, looking around the room with a mild expression on her face.

“Hello Luna, what are you doing here?” Harry asked.

“Ginny wanted to know why Hermione is angry with you and why you stormed out of Lockhart's
class. She persuaded Wood to put her in charge of the Gryffindor first years so she could have a
chance of talking to you first.” Luna explained and Harry frowned.

“Why would Ginny care if Hermione is mad at me? And why is Wood looking for me? And how did you
find this room anyway?” Harry asked, several other questions running through his mind. Luna bit her
lip and then seemed to come to a decision.

“It's quite simple Harry, the puffed schalts have infested Ginny's brain and she thinks
this is an opportunity to take Hermione's place as your best friend.” Luna replied. Harry
waited for an answer to the second question but Luna simply walked further into the room and then
she stopped. Her already large eyes became even wider and her mouth was hanging open slightly as
she stared at him. Harry looked around the room and then he tried to subtly inspect his own
appearance but he didn't notice anything that would cause the usually unflappable girl to look
so shocked.

“What about the rest?” Harry asked, trying to jar Luna back into the present.

“I'll answer that. I'm annoyed with you because you've brought unnecessary attention
to yourself, again,” Hermione answered primly. Luna and Harry turned to see the bushy haired book
worm enter the room with the door disappearing moments after she stepped inside. She raised a brow
at the site of the still gaping blond and then shook her head.

“And because the room wouldn't let me in until now. Harry, how long do you think you've
been in here?” Hermione snapped.

“An hour, maybe two?” Harry guessed.

“Try nearly a day,” Hermione replied, “You have a quidditch match against Slytherin in less than
an hour. Wood's been going nuts.”

Harry cursed and ran out of the room, a bemused brunette trailing after him while the blonde
Gryffindor remained behind for awhile, smiling slightly as a strange gleam appeared in her eye and
she slowly left the room.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

There are explanations for the starred things

-->



17. Quidditch Time!
-------------------



I BLAME THE MONKEYS!

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Chapter 15: in which Harry plays quidditch, Hermione thinks he's an idiot and someone
plots

I looked out through my host's eyes at the screaming crowds, flags waving, the occasional
tussle breaking out between the more enthusiastic students and breathed in the fresh air. It had
been so long since I could really breathe! The scent of the snacks that some had brought with them,
the permeating odor that comes when people dressed for cold weather huddle in large groups, all so
familiar and almost comforting. Suddenly, I felt like gagging when a group of girls pushed their
way past him, each having obviously applied far too much perfume in an effort to outdo the others,
causing the scents to mix together into a stomach turning stench but managed to control my
host's stomach. I would have to remember to ban all perfumes when I ruled.

When I had first created the journal, I had no idea that this fraction of my soul would be
conscious and that I had been dooming a part of myself to half a century of boredom. The seemingly
endless stagnation had perhaps driven me mad but at the same time, it had given me time to plan, to
plan and to prepare should I ever be freed. And now I was on my way to that long anticipated
freedom. The idiotic child who writes in my journal is as weak willed as I could have possibly
hoped for and my strength was growing faster with every stroke of the quill, and, if things were
not already nearly perfect, he seemed to have a thing for writing every single worthless detail of
his day. With every drop of ink I grew stronger and stronger and not only has he grown weaker but
his body was changing to suit my own. Having to change his body into a more worthy vessel was a bit
more of a hassle then I preferred. I almost wish that the sacrifice had been a girl so I could use
her potential to create life to make my own body instead of transmuting the boy's body into a
vessel suitable for me but his weak will made up for my disappointment. But it was probably better
that the sacrifice is male since, in my experience women, even my dear Bellatrix, are too emotional
to be reliable and after my long imprisonment I do not have the patience to deal with such
creatures immediately.

The brat had already written away so much of his life that I was forced to possess him even more
frequently than I had anticipated just to make sure he made appearances at things such as this to
keep people's suspicions from being aroused. After all, I had to be cautious. Those pathetic
little traps around my illustrious ancestor's gift meant that someone, probably Dumbledore, had
expected me, had expected my pet's return despite my framing of that oaf Hagrid and
everyone's acceptance of his guilt. Why else would the twinkly eyed fool have intervened in the
oaf's trial if he didn't think that the lout was innocent? The death of that whining bitch
should have guaranteed a dementor's kiss for anyone but a pureblood but I had underestimated
the influence of that lemon drop sucking meddler and from all accounts he had become even more
respected and influential.

Still, the juvenile level of those traps did make me suspicious. Surely my former professor
would have put up traps that were at least worthy of my time. Did he perhaps leave the traps up to
someone else? Someone who didn't take their duty as seriously as they should have? Perhaps the
old coot didn't tell anyone *why* they needed to booby trap a disused girl's bathroom
or whoever did put up the traps purposefully made them so juvenile so they could be written off as
a prank?

One of the stupid pawns began a scuffle in the row ahead of me, jarring me from my train of
thought. I scowled and whispered a wandles hex, ignoring the pain that ran through my host's
body. It might cost me a bit of strength, and it might harm what was not yet transfigured to suit
me, but it would be worth it when those Neanderthals began to lose their hair and teeth over the
next few months.

I looked at the players, floating above the quidditch pitch and felt a smirk form as my eyes
landed on one player in particular. I would have to remember to reward Malfoy for his rare instance
of foresight in freeing me this year, a year where the Potter boy was in Hogwarts, still young
enough to be malleable. The Potters had somehow managed to temporarily get rid of my core self and
now I had the chance to figure out how. After all, a ritual that had to use a human at the center,
a ritual that had actually managed to deal a temporary setback to *me* of all people, had to
be exceptionally powerful and powerful rituals left behind marks, even eleven years after they were
performed. And now I had the opportunity to recreate this ritual and use it for my own
purposes.

I watched as the game started and Potter flew above the rest of the players, searching for the
snitch and one of the bludgers came after him from behind, nearly taking his head off. Potter
swerved at the last moment and the bludger seemed to be going straight for a Slytherin when it
stopped in midair and changed directions, flying back towards Potter. Again the boy missed the
bludger by a hair's width and again the bludger stopped in midair in order to continue to try
to kill the Gryffindor seeker.

Interesting.

And irritating, if the stupid ball managed to kill the boy then any remains of the ritual would
be lost. I fingered the wand I had with me but I couldn't do anything with it. For some reason
the stupid twig refused to work for me unless I risked channeling more power than this pathetic
body was capable of handling. That and I didn't feel inclined to force it to do anything just
yet. If the boy died, well, the ritual wasn't that important. And his death would make things
much easier when I revealed myself. Perhaps I could even take credit for the boy's demise
myself.

The boy managed to catch the snitch and a grin spread across `my' face as the bludger
finally reached the brat, knocking him off balance enough for him to fall off his broom. My eyes
widened and I fought the urge to cackle. The boy would finally die!

“Come on Harry!” I made my host shout, “You can do it!”

But then that red headed boy, that damned twin, managed to get to the brat at the last second.
My host managed to exert enough will power to make his body jump up and cheer for the Gryffindor
beater. I growled and sent a wave of my rage through my host's mind. He bent over in pain,
clutching at his head, the head that would be mine.

***

I was going to kill him. I was going to kill him, bring him back to life and kill him again and
again until he got it through his thick skull that this was a *game*! A bloody game, *not a
reason to risk one's life!* It's times like this that I wish I couldn't read lips
but I can and I know that it's his fault that this stupid game is still going on instead of
being stopped so the teachers can find out what on earth is the matter with that bluder or whatever
it's called that won't stop chasing him! Honestly, it's as if the boy doesn't have
any sense of self preservation at all!

I winced as he once again barely dodged that awful ball thing and cringed as it instead smashed
into the side of Angelina, almost knocking her off of her broom.

“He's so brave,” I heard someone sigh and turned slightly to see a little girl with red hair
and familiar features. For a moment I wondered who she was until I remembered her from the incident
at Gringotts and I made the connection. She was Ginny, Fred and George's sister. It was strange
that she was only just now speaking around me. I was under the impression that she liked Harry, I
had certainly heard Ron complain about it often enough and Lavender and Parvati were both annoyed
by the “yappy little redhead who keeps talking about Harry Potter”. And my gossipy roommates also
claimed that she had essentially set up a shrine to my emerald eyed best friend. For any girl that
liked Harry enough to, or so rumor had it, sneak into the boys' bathroom to pick his hair out
from the showers supposedly for this alleged shrine, it would have been logical for her to speak to
me, his only close female friend, as a way to get closer to him or at least to make sure that I
wasn't competition. Or at least, that was the pattern I was familiar with after the past dozen
or so girls had cornered me in the library ever since the troll incident, first to try to keep me
away from Harry and then to attempt to make sure I knew he was off limits and that I was no
competition for their looks or pedigree or whatever trait they felt they had that made them better
than me.

Not that I was competition of course!

I frowned and tensed as Harry continued to lead that stupid bluder on a chase around the field
while searching for that tiny golden ball.

“He's a fool,” I snapped in reply, unable to stop myself. I could feel everyone turning to
look at me, but I kept my eyes on Harry. The wretched bluder almost got him yet again but
thankfully he dodged.

“He's Harry Potter!” the red headed girl hissed at me. I still didn't turn to look at
her. My eyes were trained on the bluder and its target.

“A name doesn't stop someone from being stupid,” I replied as calmly as I could managed,
“And that bluder has obviously been tampered with. They should at least postpone the game until it
can be fixed.”

“But then Slytherin would win!” Ron yelled at me.

“Not if the game was merely postponed,” I reasoned, “And who cares anyway? It's just a game,
it's not worth Harry being hurt.”

“It's not just a game!” Ginny's shrill voice insisted, almost directly into my ear,
“It's Quidditch! And we're facing Slytherin!”

I nearly fell over from the volume of her voice. She had obviously inherited her mother's
lungs.

“And besides,” the girl went on in a huffy tone, “it's called a bludger, not a bluder. You
obviously don't understand anything.”

My hands involuntarily formed fists but I took a deep breath and concentrated. Even if I was
still trying to piece together exactly what the journals of Harry's ancestors were talking
about, what I did know was that all of them were clear that control of one's emotions was a
basic principal and after I nearly killed Fred the last thing I wanted to do was loose control. I
could feel my magic begin to bubble with my irritation and I could not allow it to get out of
control. I took a deep breath and concentrated for a moment, quickly finding my center thanks to
long hours of practice and by the time I opened my eyes I felt much calmer, or at least less
inclined to smack Ginny, and Gryffindor was ahead though unfortunately Harry was still dodging that
ridiculous flying cannon ball.

“Come on,” I muttered, ignoring the twin's sister as she continued to go on about the
greatness of Quidditch, Gryffindor and the boy who lived while Ron chimed in about the “evils” of
Slytherin. A glint of gold caught my eye and I stood up.

“COME ON HARRY!” I screamed, bouncing on the balls of my feet, praying that he'd notice the
snitch and get this game over with before his luck ran out

Harry zoomed past the Hufflepuff stand, away from the bludger, where the twit floated on his
broom. The obnoxious little toad was laughing at Harry, completely oblivious to everything
including the tiny golden snitch floating right behind him. Honestly, I almost wish the inbred
little twit would put half the effort into just about anything really as he did into harassing
Harry or that he would get a hobby of some sort that didn't involve repeating the same stupid
insults over and over again.

Harry raced for the snitch, he was so close! Just as his fingers closed around the tiny golden
construct the bludger seemed to gain an extra burst of speed and it hit him in the back, knocking
him off balance.

Suddenly, Harry was falling through the air. Someone was screaming and I couldn't seem to
move. Oh Merlin he was going to die!

“Aren't you going to stop him?” an airy sort of voice asked. I didn't turn to see who it
was, I was too focused on the awful sight in front of me. But the speaker did jolt me out of my
inactivity and I concentrated.

Unfortunately, Harry was much, much heavier than the sandbags I had been practicing with and I
couldn't stop him. The best I could do was slow his descent to a point where Fred could catch
up to him and save him.

“Thank God,” I whispered and then collapsed. My last though about going to the library to try to
find a spell that would let me find the bastard that tried to hurt Harry, because come hell or high
water, the last thing I was going to do was give him another chance to even try to look at Harry
the wrong way. The bastard was going down.

***

*Dobby is going to die* Harry thought for perhaps the thousandth time since he had once
more been subjected to the care of Madam Pomfrey. While the young seeker had managed to stay away
from Lockhart's treatment since Fred had flown him straight to the hospital wing while he was
unconscious, the bludger had managed to not only knock him out but it had also cracked several of
his ribs and broke another, causing it to puncture his lung. Madam Pomfrey had immediately fixed
his lung but unfortunately the spell she used had an irritating side effect.

He couldn't be exposed to anymore externally applied magic, such as a spell to fix his ribs
and Professor Destiny had apparently been too busy to supply the hospital wing with any sort of
potion that could fix his ribs with internal magic. So he was stuck in the hospital wing unable to
breathe, unable to move, unable to sleep without feeling the dull throb of his cracked ribs. All he
had to help deal with the pain were a few potions that Madam Pomfrey had brewed herself, to make up
for the lack of pain killing potions that Professor Destiny was supposed to have brewed,
unfortunately the potions that Madam Pomfrey made were better for making him too fuzzy headed to
think properly instead of making the pain less intense.

*At least I have some experience with this even before this mess started* Harry thought
ruefully, remembering all the times that Dudley had given him cracked or broken ribs. There was no
Madame Pomfrey then to fix him up in seconds, just an elderly and extremely gullible school nurse
who actually believed that he had to have his ribs taped up at least twice a month because of very
violent sessions of dodge ball. Well, the nurse and, as he now knew, his own magic which had
apparently sped up the healing process.

He felt a stray thought at the edge of his mind, a blurry memory of being hurt, not by Dudley
and his gang or even by Vernon, but by an older man with a hooked nose and who stank of alcohol. He
frowned, all these strange memories were beginning to annoy him. At least the ones that Hermione
had helped him remember actually made sense, they had some bearing on his life, something in them
that marked them as his. This new memory though, he had no idea where it came from.

He glanced over at the curtains which obscured the bed occupied by Hermione. She had been
brought in shortly after him and he had overheard Madame Pomfrey clucking her tongue and muttering
something about magical exhaustion. Harry frowned and wondered how his friend had managed to
exhaust herself. The only other person was a Hufflepuff boy who was vaguely familiar but the faulty
potion of Professor Destiny's made his head feel fuzzy and he couldn't think clearly. He
wasn't sure but the boy-who-lived thought he may have seen a few suspicious bruises on the
boy's arm as his sleeve had fallen back when he took the potion from Madam Pomfrey. He was
further suspicious when Madam Pomfrey hadn't said anything against the Hufflepuff staying in
the hospital wing longer. Harry was about to get out of bed, first to check on Hermione and then to
satisfy his curiosity by looking at the Hufflepuff's charts to see what else Madam Pomfrey had
written about the boy's condition when he heard something scratching around. Large, bulbous
green eyes appeared and Harry nearly jumped out of the bed.

“Harry Potter sir has been hurt!” wailed an earnest little voice and Harry blinked and watched
as the house elf Dobby became more visible.

“Yes,” Harry growled, “Because you messed with that bludger! You could have killed me!”

“No sir!” Dobby sounded shocked, “Never kill you, just needing to get you to go home! Harry
Potter is not safe at Hogwarts!”

“Harry Potter isn't safe with the Dursleys either,” Harry snapped, “I was beaten and starved
and treated about the same way that the Malfoys treat you. Vernon nearly killed me several times
and I'm pretty sure the only reason he didn't manage it is because I healed. Even with the
trolls, death eaters, werewolves, acromantulas and Tom Riddle's diary controlling someone and
using the basilisk on students, I'm a thousand times safer here where I at least have the
chance to defend myself.”

“Harry Potter sir *knows*,” Dobby whispered, sounding horrified and Harry let out a bitter
laugh, immediately regretting it as his ribs reminded him that he was still injured.

“Yes,” Harry admitted, “I know. I've known since before I came back and it kills me that
I'm letting this monster slither around all because I can't find a stupid little book.”
Harry lifted back his sleeve and looked at the silver brace that seemed so innocuous and so heavy
at the same time. He didn't notice the way Dobby's eyes were suddenly trained on the brace,
something that no one else seemed to have been able to see.

“Harry Potter sir,” Dobby whispered and he started to back away, looking absolutely terrified
and even more awed than before, “Harry Potter sir is marked by the Last Masters!”

Dobby's eyes filled with tears,

“Dobby is so sorry Harry Potter sir!” he wailed, “Dobby never meant to kill Harry Potter sir!”
He jumped off the bed in order to beat his head against the floor as he wailed.

“Is all Dobby's fault!” he wailed, “Dobby did not deserve to try to rescue the great Harry
Potter. Dobby too stupid, too weak! Dobby is a murderer!”

“Dobby!” Harry hissed, worried that the noisy elf would bring people into the hospital wing, and
he had no interest in hearing lectures from Madame Pomfrey or having another ineffectual potion
stuffed down his throat, “Dobby, I'm not dead!”

The house elf ignored him and continued to try to punish himself for apparently killing Harry
ignored his pain and acted.

“Enough!” He hissed, grabbing the knife from the little creature with one hand and holding him
back from it with the other. The little elf struggled to get at the weapon, clawing at Harry's
arm and inadvertently at the bracelet. When he touched it, the little elf froze for a split second
before bringing his hands back, acting as if he had been burned. He seemed to have been snapped out
of his hysterical state, or so Harry thought until the little elf again burst into tears.

“Even as a ghost Harry Potter sir is a great wizard,” he sobbed and one of his great, bat like
ears perked up and Dobby looked at Harry once more with infinitely sad eyes and disappeared. Harry
blinked, unsure as to what had just happened.

“Fetch Madam Pomfrey,” a muffled voice said and Harry quickly lay down, pulling off his glasses
to put them on the table beside his bed and closing his eyes quickly as the doors to the hospital
wing opened. He listened as people walked past his bed and heard a muffled thump as something was
dropped onto one of the other beds. A few moments later he heard the very familiar sound of Madam
Pomfrey's brisk walk.

“What happened?” the healer demanded, sounding horrified and furious all at once.

“He had a few apples with him,” a voice, McGonagall's voice, began but then she was
interrupted.

“What has happened is that my worst fears have been confirmed,” the first voice,
Dumbledore's voice, announced, “the chamber of secrets is indeed open once more. The boy is
lucky that I was on my way to the kitchens or I fear far worse could have befallen him.”

“How could this have happened?” McGonagall's sharp tones easily pierced through the muffling
effect of the curtain so he heard her clearly, “How could the chamber really be opened again?”

“It's as the wall said,” a third voice, Flitwick's unique squeaky tone grumbled, “the
heir of Slytherin has returned to Hogwarts.”

“What are we going to do?” McGonagall demanded and Harry squinted, his blurry vision and the
lack of light preventing him from seeing more than blobs gathered around the bed across the room
from his own.

“Perhaps he took a picture of his attacker?” Flitwick suggested hesitantly and Harry winced as
he realized who the new victim must be- Colin Creevy.

He could feel the tension in the air and barely heard the click as the camera must have been
opened. An acrid smell filled the air for a brief second before he assumed that Madam Pomfrey
banished it.

“Melted,” McGonagall breathed, “What melts film? What can we do to stop this monster?”

“The only thing we can do,” Dumbledore replied, “Search for the heir and for the chamber of
secrets.”

“But Albus,” Flitwick protested, “People have been searching for it since Slytherin was banished
from the castle, what on earth makes you think we can find it now?”

“And what's to be done to keep people from ending up in my hospital wing?” Madame Pomfrey
added with an almost growl.

Harry could just picture the old man's eyes twinkling as Dumbledore said in a dismissive
voice,

“Have no worries, I am fully confident in our abilities.” The old headmaster said, sounding
absolutely cheerful. There was a pause and then,

“Albus, you are taking this far too lightly!” McGonagall hissed, “Two students have almost died!
We can have the students all sleep in the Great Hall until this monster is caught, have teachers
escort them to their classes, something more than just looking around in our spare time for a room
no one has found in over a thousand years!”

“Minerva, I promise, everything will turn out alright,” Dumbledore told the irate teacher, his
voice calm and soothing, “Now, I believe that Poppy will be upset if we continue to discuss this in
here where we might wake her other patients. We can continue planning in the morning with the other
teachers.”

McGonagall huffed and stalked out of the room, her heels clicking audibly and the other two
followed after her shortly, leaving Madam Pomfrey to grumble under her breath, too quietly for
Harry to hear, as she fussed over the new arrival in the inescapable prison that was the hospital
wing. He waited impatiently until he finally heard her walk away and heard the soft click of a door
being shut.

He waited for a breath, straining his ears for any sound that could indicate someone coming
back. He could remember far too many times in both his own past and from the strange, alien
memories of instances where he did not wait long enough to be sure that the Dursleys or the
drunkard were really gone and getting beaten for that lack of patience.

It was silent.

He slipped out from under the covers and immediately went to Hermione's side and studied her
carefully. She looked pale and rather thin. He resolved to pay more attention to make sure she ate
more regularly. He looked at her a little longer before moving on to check on the other
students.

He frowned as he saw that he was right, Colin had indeed been the one to be petrified. The
ruined camera was nearby and Harry vaguely wondered why Colin had brought it with him- hopefully
not to take pictures of him while he was injured. The younger boy had been doing so well with
staying out of Harry's way, taking pictures of the green eyed wizard while he was in the
hospital wing would probably have forced Harry to destroy the camera. The food was nice of him
though.

He left Colin and went to the last person, the Hufflepuff Justin something or other. Harry
couldn't remember the name off the top of his rather clouded head. He looked at the boy but
didn't see anything particularly wrong with him. With a shrug, Harry went and dragged a chair
to Hermione's bed and sat down.

*-*-*-*-*-*

If anyone's developed a time machine, please let me borrow it so I can go back in time to
smack Michael de Montaigne and post this chapter sooner. Also, many thanks to Paladeus for
continuing to poke at me to get this chapter finished and to several genius writers who have agreed
to let me use elements of their stories in my own, though I won't tell you who those brilliant
people are just yet. Just in case anyone's gotten any weird ideas while I've been MIA I
don't own Harry Potter. Merry Christmahanakwanzaka, Happy New Year and Happy Birthday! And
finally, please leave a review and tell me what you think

-->



18. back to the hospital wing
-----------------------------



After a brief stint in the Naruto fandom, I'm back! And HA! It didn't take me a year! I
just had to get over the fact that I don't own Harry Potter, if I did you guys would probably
still be waiting for the third book and there would be quite a few differences, like the twins
would become joint ministers of magic. To address those of you who thought Hermione had the diary-
since when can she be described as weak willed? Also, I'm disappointed, only five of you
answered the question at the end of the last chapter and many thanks to those of you who did so,
now onto the story

Chapter: 17

It was the slight pain that awoke him at first, a dull throbbing in his chest that he
couldn't remember feeling since he was in elementary school, when the teacher thought field
hockey was a great idea and he had been forced to be the goalie. This pain though seemed to go a
bit deeper and it seemed a little more insistent now that he was broken out of his dreams into the
state of half wakefulness, but it was still easy to ignore. He had slept through worse. He had
almost managed to fall back into his dreams when the thought crossed his mind,

*Hermione*

He jolted upright in his chair, almost slipping out in the process, and winced as his ribs
protested the sudden movement and then he looked around. Sunlight was pouring into the hospital
wing and he thought that Hermione looked less pale than she had the night before, though she still
seemed unhealthily thin.

As if his observations of her had reached her, she began to stir. He watched as her eyes
fluttered open and quickly focused on him.

“You're awake!” he stated unnecessarily but it felt good to say those words aloud. He
hadn't realized how worried he had been about his friend until this moment when it suddenly
came crashing down on him.

“Ha-” Hermione started to say but her words were lost in a fit of coughing. Harry quickly
located a jug of water and poured a cup. Hermione continued to cough and he felt a flare of panic
as he realized that she was trying, and failing, to sit up on her own. He helped her up sit up and
she managed to stop coughing long enough for him to help her drink the water. She gulped it eagerly
and when she had finished Harry gently laid her back onto her pillow. She glared at him with
reproach,

“You shouldn't be up,” she croaked, “I saw that blooder hit you! You fell from your broom!
Why aren't you in bed?”

“I'm fine, just some bruised ribs from the bludger,” Harry lied easily, not really having an
idea about his condition, “But what about you? Madam Pomfrey said something about magical
exhaustion?”

He saw Hermione frown and for a moment he felt the increasingly familiar sting of her magic as
it sought for a lost memory in his mind but, unlike previous times, the brief touch was faint and
when it disappeared he couldn't remember anything new.

“Exhaustion?” Hermione managed to say in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” Harry confirmed and he glared lightly at his friend, “You haven't been eating.” He
accused her and noticed a faint blush appeared on her cheeks.

“Well Miss Granger, it's good to see you awake,” a voice interrupted before Harry had the
chance to say anything else. The two looked to see Madam Pomfrey with a scowl on her face and
balancing two trays, both piled high with so much food that Harry believed even Ron would have
trouble finishing even one tray, “Mr. Potter, I'm sure you will be back in your bed in a few
moments so I won't be required to do anything drastic.”

Harry waited a moment, glancing at Hermione, before reluctantly returning to his bed. Madam
Pomfrey immediately placed the tray of food in front of him and then went to place the other in
front of Hermione. The young wizard blinked at the amount of food and looked over to where Madam
Pomfrey was propping Hermione up with pillows so the girl could reach her tray. Harry watched
carefully and saw Hermione attempt and fail to even lift a hand.

“Both of you are going to need to start eating much more than you've been eating.” Madam
Pomfrey said bluntly.

“We've been eating about the same amount we usually do,” Hermione protested and Madam
Pomfrey took the opportunity to stuff Hermione's mouth full of a bite of broth.

“I'm sure you're both aware that at this time in your life you're starting to
experience physical changes, correct? That girls and boys are different?”

Both pre-teens nodded furiously. Neither wanted to go through the Talk, as both had already
received instruction from their respective muggle schools and Hermione was blushing furiously from
the memories of a shockingly frank, surprisingly detailed and somewhat embarrassing version of the
Talk from her Nana Kim of all people when she first left for Hogwarts and every time she left for
Platform nine and three quarters since then.

“For witches and wizards it isn't just your body which changes, it is also your magic. Your
magical cores are starting their first real growth spurts and in order to fuel that growth spurt
you need to eat, especially you Mr. Potter.”

“Hmm?” Harry had just taken a bite of rice that had apparently had bits of chicken mixed in it.
He looked over at the nurse curiously.

“Ms. Granger's magical exhaustion came in part from overexerting herself magically but also
because she hasn't been eating or sleeping enough so her body hasn't had the resources to
replenish her magic to a reasonable level. The only reason you're not in the same condition Mr.
Potter is because you have a larger magical core to deal with from the start but if you had tried
to push yourself magically at all recently then you would have quickly gotten to the same point as
Ms. Granger. As it is, I won't be able to use any spells to finish the healing process.”

“But you gave me that potion last night!” Harry protested.

“If I hadn't you would be dead.” Madam Pomfrey said bluntly as she spooned another bite of
soup into Hermione's mouth when the girl tried to say something, “Last night you had three
broken ribs and a punctured lung which was filling up with blood. Your ribs are now more bruised
and slightly cracked rather than broken and your lungs are healthier than ever. While it's
inconvenient, attempting to fix your ribs magically now would hurt you more than it would help.
Healing doesn't use just the healer's magic, it also uses the magic of the person being
healed, encouraging it to work more efficiently to heal the patient. With your magical core in such
a state I cannot, in good conscience, use any magic to further spur on your healing until your
magic has reached more appropriate levels.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at the nurse who was calmly feeding Hermione. The younger witch looked
torn between embarrassment at being so weak that she couldn't even feed herself, hunger and her
ever present curiosity.

“And until your magic is at more appropriate levels, the two of you will remain in the hospital
wing. You can arrange for a friend to bring you your homework but you may not cast any spells.”
Madam Pomfrey said adamantly. Harry and Hermione both stared at her for a moment before exchanging
glances.

“How long would we have to go without magic? Wouldn't we fall behind in class if we
can't practice our spell work?” Hermione asked between bites.

“How long you remain here greatly depends on you. If you both eat properly and rest then your
magic will come up to acceptable levels in a week and you can perform normal school work. If you
keep your magic usage to a minimum and if you continue to eat properly and rest then your core
should be fully replenished within a month and your ribs should be completely healed naturally.”
Madam Pomfrey informed them.

*At least it gives me a good excuse not to go to defense* Harry thought and turned his mind
to what had happened last night. Why had Dobby acted so strangely?

He sent a guilty look over towards Colin's bed. If he had just ignored Hermione's advice
then that could have been prevented. He knew the proper way to take out a basilisk and he was
pretty sure Hagrid could get a rooster from somewhere. If the half giant couldn't do that then
Harry was hoping that he could maybe talk to the beast, persuade it to stop listening to Tom's
memory.

The pair was silent as they finished their food, both surprised that they had actually managed
to eat so much. By the time they were finished, Hermione had regained control of her limbs and
could sit up on her own, though the pillows helped to keep her from becoming too tired, and she ate
eagerly.

“I'll inform Professor McGonagall to arrange for your school work to be brought to you for
the next week.” Madam Pomfrey told the two and after a brief check on the petrified patients, the
Hufflepuff from last night had left while Harry and Hermione were eating, she left the two
alone.

“I'm going to go after the monster,” Harry declared as soon as he was sure that Madame
Pomfrey was out of earshot. He looked at his friend with a stern expression though he hoped she
wouldn't protest. She looked so weak and frail that he was uncomfortable with the idea of
pushing her over anything though he knew that she would resent the idea that she was delicate and
be annoyed if he treated her as such.

Hermione frowned for a moment and then she looked over at Colin's bed and sighed.

“You probably should,” she admitted, “I had hoped that Fred and George's traps over the
entrance would be enough to at least slow the diary's holder down long enough for us to get to
him, or her, and take the diary from them and that spreading the information through Lavender and
Parvati that the monster is a basilisk would cause students to take appropriate precautions until
we had the diary but the basilisk might be more of an immediate concern than I thought. Though I
would like to be able to figure out why you haven't been able to summon it.”

“Maybe it's too far away?” Harry offered and Hermione looked thoughtful.

“It's true that we don't know how far your summoning spell can reach,” she admitted and
then she looked serious, “But Harry, I want you to at least wait until you find a rooster.
That's the only safe way to dispose of a basilisk. There's no guarantee that you can pull
off the events that let you defeat it last time so this time you'll do it safely.”

Harry again felt the strange feeling that he was forgetting something, that something danced on
the edges of his mind and Hermione looked as frustrated as he felt with his inability to remember.
But there was something, something he knew that he needed to know.

“Don't worry Hermione,” Harry assured his friend, “Everything will work out.” He did not
promise to wait. He was fairly certain that he hadn't used a rooster last time and there must
have been some reason for that and he doubted that the diary holder, whoever they were, had failed
to go through whatever measures to make roosters impossible to use as they had the last time he had
to kill the basilisk. He didn't want to break a promise to Hermione if he could help it but he
wasn't about to promise to wait any longer than absolutely necessary. He was going to break out
of the Hospital Wing as soon as possible and get rid of the basilisk. How he was going to do that
he wasn't too entirely sure but he had a few ideas.

“Did you ever tell me about those diaries you translated?” Harry asked before Hermione thought
to confront him about the lack of promise. Hermione's face brightened.

“No actually, some of the things your ancestors wrote are absolutely fascinating, a bit
redundant and unnecessary because of some of the advances in magic but it's always useful to
have more than one way to do something and many of the spells and such they describe are more of
exercises to prepare for larger magical workings. One particularly fascinating part is a section
about using gemstones. Apparently some are very good to store magic in, just in case something like
this happens. Of course since I haven't found a way to access any of the stones mentioned there
isn't much to be done there so I've been working towards mastering what one of your
ancestors calls lady magic, called so because generally it was only the women who used it. It takes
an incredible amount of control and basically magic is used to manipulate things on almost an
atomic level. My control isn't quite there yet so I haven't been able to do anything beyond
the meditation exercises and being able to use wandless magic to make things levitate. I'm
still working on my control of the objects, as you well know.”

Harry smiled slightly, remembering the various things that Hermione usually had orbiting around
her and sent flying towards him. He made a note to get to Gringotts, perhaps over Christmas, and
get a few of the gemstones he knew were in his vaults. If he could figure out how to store magic in
them then next time something like this happened he would be prepared and wouldn't have to deal
with such a long recovery time.

“Actually, if you like, I can teach you the start of the meditation exercises. They're very
good for controlling magic and organizing the mind.” Hermione offered shyly.

“Sounds good,” Harry agreed, “It's not like we'll be able to do much else for
awhile.”

“And knowing how to organize your mind will be a very important step in learning occlumency.”
Hermione chirped.

“What?” Harry asked. Hermione blinked and took a deep breath.

“Remind me that if I ever have the chance to do something to Dumbledore's lemon drops.” She
said in a tight voice, “It's a type of magic designed to protect a person from another branch
of magic called legilimency which allows a person to view thoughts, a bit like when I pull memories
forward in your mind but it's a bit more reliable and they can get a better sense of what a
person is thinking than my method. Legilimency also allows someone to plant false impulses, such as
a desire to trust or to distrust whoever the legilimens wishes another to trust or distrust in
another person and of course it can be used to see if a person is telling the truth. Dumbledore is
very good at both of these branches of magic and Snape is, was, a master at them as well.” She
glanced over at the bed where the still unconscious potions master lay.

Harry frowned at the revelation, something was niggling at the back of his mind, screaming
almost, but he couldn't quite reach the memory. He growled and then turned to Hermione.

“How do I start?” he asked and Hermione smiled brightly.

When Madam Pomfrey returned a few hours later to check on and feed her charges she found the
only unpetrified patients sitting up on their beds, eyes closed and looking utterly at peace. It
was not an expression she had ever seen on either of their faces, not even when they had been
asleep. She lay down the trays of food and waved her wand over the two and she raised a brow when
she saw the results. The head of the medical wing made her rounds, neatly ending a particularly
nasty curse on flowers that would have suffocated their recipient, namely Professor Snape.

\V/ LLAP

Yes it's a bit more of a bridge than an actual chapter, Harry's finally going to do
something in the next chapter, this is to hold you guys off while I go traveling again. And now,
why are you reading this part? It's not part of the story… oh, I know! You want to know the
results of the question from the last chapter- as a note, only five people gave answers. I asked my
brothers and two of my cousins who were visiting what they thought and added my own vote, this is
what came of it

Ninja- 6 votes

Pirates- 2 votes

Robots- 1 vote

Pokémon- 1 vote

NINJA WIN!

Now, new question- who is the most romantic fictional character you can think of?

-->



19. Mina's Mess and Potter's Plot
---------------------------------



Yes, I LIVE!!

Quick note, on ffn I'm going by katdemon18 for random reasons. And while this chapter is
here on Portkey, it won't be available on ffn for another couple of weeks because the
university I attend is evil and blocks ffn and there isn't a nearby starbucks or anywhere
really that I've been able to find where I can reliably reach ffn. So yay for Portkey! Also, by
now I'm pretty sure all of you understand that I don't own Harry Potter, otherwise the
series never would have become so popular because you'd still be waiting for the second book.
This story is purely for entertainment purposes, JK. Rowling owns Harry Potter, I only started
playing with her characters because the first scene with Mina yelling at Harry was so much fun to
write, and I now continue because I'm too stubborn to stop

Also, Lora belongs to the ever wonderful, helpful and all around awesome Paladeus

Chapter: Mina's Mess and Potter's Plot

“That self righteous TRAMP!” snarled a brunette woman. She stomped around the large room and
promptly tripped on the hem of her robes and fell over. As she tried to get up she became entangled
in her cloak.

“And why is it that sick stalker makes the whole billowing cloak thing look so easy?” the woman
whined as she sat up on the hard wooden floor and glared over at a wall. Unlike its fellows which
were painted a calming shade of green, the wall showed a scene of a beautiful, blonde woman
speaking to another older woman. The older woman had a dazed expression on her face.

“She's only doing her job Mina, just like you. You knew when you offered Harry the contract
that there would be others who would look into this anomaly and some of those others have more
power than you do to try to keep things from veering too far out of control.” a voice lectured and
the petite woman turned slightly to glare at the large man who had appeared behind her.

“Jim,” Mina began.

“Don't,” Jim interrupted, “you don't like her, I know that and your dislike is going to
cloud your judgment. You should be happy that she's willing to do so much to help you. If you
can't be happy then ignore whatever she's doing for now and tell me about your charges,
what's going on with that teacher, the Rhinehart woman.”

The small woman took a deep breath and then another. She tried once more but a single glance at
the screen made her lose any self of control. The deep breath was released into a scream of rage
and frustration.

“I HATE HER!” Mina shrieked and Jim glared at his former apprentice who was obviously
restraining herself from screaming anymore about her loathing of Destiny but it was a near thing as
she continued to stomp about and spew obscenities about the blonde woman. He sighed and let it go
for a moment longer and was pleased when the girl gained enough to control to stop her tirade
against the beautiful woman who was now standing over a sleeping Harry Potter.

“Mina!” Jim interrupted sharply and he grabbed his former apprentice's arm. The action
managed to jolt the petite woman out of her tirade and she looked up at the elder reaper.

“Harry's an idiot,” Mina said suddenly, “But you already knew that. However, he's got
something in the works so he's not a total loss, but with Destiny, look, look at what she's
doing!” the young angel of death yelped and pointed at the scene. Jim sighed and looked at the
scene. The beautiful blonde, Destiny, was smiling serenely as she stood over Hermione. Mina let out
a snarl of frustration.

“You missed it!” the petite brunette growled at her superior. The large man sighed and shook his
head.

“Mina, if you cannot get over this irrational hatred of Destiny then I'm going to have to do
something about it.” Jim pointed out in a deceptively calm voice, “And I will right now, unless you
start telling me about your charges.”

Mina froze and for a moment she was so still that if Jim didn't know any better he'd say
she was a statue. Then she slumped.

“Rhineheart is fine. The explosion her student caused was minimized and help was given a bit of
a boost so it got to her more quickly so the incident didn't kill her as it would have if I had
not intervened,” Mina began to expound in impersonal tones, “She had skin grafts and she's
healing just fine. The explosion and its effects will help her in her private research, as hoped
for, and in the next decade there will be a vaccine against lycanthropy. Eros is getting Rhineheart
in the right position to meet her potential future husband. Provided all goes well, Fate has
projected that her future granddaughter, provided she chooses to follow her in her
grandmother's footsteps, will use the vaccine and take it a step further to create a true cure
for lycanthropy. Of course there are others with similar projections that can take over if
Rhineheart's granddaughter drops the ball or chooses to go become a chef or a pediatrician,
which are her other projected paths in life. One of Lora's future charges has the best
bet.”

She broke off and Jim looked to see what had caught her attention. Destiny was in the viewing
mirror again, apparently talking to Madam Pomfrey about something. He smiled. She was such a caring
woman. He looked back at his apprentice and noted the expression of fury on her face but she took a
deep breath. And then another, and another and then very deliberately turned her back to the
viewing mirror.

“Mrs. Dubworth, Ms. Gray and Dr. Bryant are all fine with no foreseen life threatening incidents
in the next six months,” his former apprentice went on, her voice terse, “Eros's department is
on the job to move Ms. Gray in the way of one of her projected best matches. I've got a close
eye on Dr. Jackson and he's due to go on a mission in a few weeks but Sam has promised to keep
an eye on him then. My newest charges will be born in a week or so, I'll be seeing each of
their souls off before the births and the guardians of the mothers' of my charges all have my
number and will page me if something starts to go wrong. Finally, Mr. Luckett will die next month
in a driving accident and three days later Mr. Markson will try his hand at bungee jumping and his
cord will snap. I've got both days cleared so I can get their souls well before and prevent any
discomfort. At this moment, Harry is my priority. At the moment he's planning to do something
really, really stupid so I need to get ready.”

Once finished, she turned, still careful not to look at the scene on the wall again, and began
to walk away from her boss and former mentor.

“Mina,” Jim called and the girl paused and turned back, her face carefully blank, “Mr. Potter,
remember, you need to keep your distance, he's not Harry to you, he can't be Harry.
He's Mr. Potter. You've already pushed things by interfering with the goblins.”

Mina had the grace to look embarrassed at her former mentor's accusation but she set her jaw
and looked at him with a mutinous expression in her eyes.

“What interference?” she asked, her voice light.

“You thought we didn't know about that?” Jim laughed derisively, ignoring how Mina clenched
her fists as he went on, “A reaper's duty is to protect his or her charge from any physical
harm that may impede on their designated lifespan. It was one thing to haunt his aunt's dreams,
since she and the rest of the Dursleys have caused him to die one way or the other. Threatening the
goblins however to bring his inheritance to his attention was going beyond your boundaries.”

“Bending the boundaries!” Mina protested immediately, “Bending only! He nearly died half a dozen
times because he broke into the Lestrange vaults and the goblins tried to kill him. The dragon
thing in line three only worked because of Chance and you *know* how he is! This way he
circumvented that scenario altogether and we got another piece of Riddle's soul.”

“That soul fragment is the *only* reason you haven't been punished, but it was noted
Mina. And then there was the damn elf seeing the bracelet you gave the Potter boy,” Jim
growled.

“Well how on earth was I supposed to know that the elf would be able to see my mark on him?”
Mina demanded, “Only those touched by death or chaos should have been able to see it!”

Jim gave her a look.

“Crap,” Mina muttered and she turned away from her former mentor.

“Mina,” Jim called to bring her attention back to him, “I need to tell you this. The goblin
thing was balanced by the fact that it got a piece of Riddle's soul, but your mistake with the
elf was too much Mina. I'm afraid that even if your charge gets all of Riddle's soul and
fulfills Fate's plan for him, you've lost your promotion. You'll be lucky if you
aren't demoted.”

Mina blinked and her face slowly lost all color. She wobbled on her feet for a moment and Jim
moved to catch her but she steadied herself and her eyes filled with tears as she moved away from
him.

“Jim,” she started, her voice faint. Jim shook his head.

“I'm sorry Mina, but to let the chaos touched become aware of our influence has really
gotten a lot of departments worried and a few of them are up in arms. You know how others feel
about Chaos, especially after the Incident. And then by forcing the goblins to bring Potter's
inheritance to his notice, you technically imposed on their free will and you *know* how the
higher ups feel about free will. Chaos is one thing, but infringing on free will is just going too
far.” Jim pointed out.

“But Jim,” she started to say and he shrugged helplessly.

“Mina, just because you were my apprentice doesn't mean you get special treatment. You had
to know there would be consequences.” The Senior Reaper pointed out in a deliberately cool voice.
He knew her well enough to see that she now believed he was the one who had ruined her chances at a
promotion, he could see it in her eyes.

That Destiny was the one who had actually pointed out Mina's transgressions was a fact he
kept to himself.

He wasn't sure why his former apprentice disliked the beautiful woman, he found her
charming, but he knew bringing her up at the moment would probably break the poor girl. After all,
to find that almost two thousand years of diligent work had just gone up in smoke and that she was
running the risk of punishment, as if nothing she ever did counted, would bring any of them to the
edge, especially when she had time to really think about it and fully understand the consequences
of her actions. To discover that all that work was for nothing because of a casual comment made by
someone as wonderful as Destiny, well, he didn't want to think of what Mina might do. As he
looked at the still silent girl, he made a note to have Fate check on her.

“Well, go check on Potter then, after all, you've said he's about to do something stupid
and you wouldn't want to miss that,” Jim prodded her and mentally sighed as she again moved
away from him. But at least she was moving.

=/\=

Harry was of course completely unaware of anything having to do with Mina. He was too
preoccupied planning his fourth escape attempt from the hospital wing and what to do
afterwards.

The young wizard had caught on to the meditation techniques that Hermione showed him very
quickly and those techniques combined with nightmare free sleep and eating more food than he ever
realized he ever had in his entire life prior to Hogwarts had helped him to regain almost full
magical strength in just a week. But unfortunately, Madam Pomfrey did not believe in what her
spells had shown her and she was determined to keep them in the hospital wing for the extra two
weeks that it would take anyone else to recover from such extreme magical exhaustion. The
boy-who-lived was less than pleased with this, especially when another *three* petrified
basilisk victims, all older Hufflepuffs he didn't recognize, were brought into the hospital
wing.

“Harry, calm down,” Hermione demanded as Harry struggled just to get out of the bed. After the
second escape attempt Madam Pomfrey had simply cast a charm to stick him to the bed. He
couldn't do anything more strenuous than sit up and read a book. For a boy who had been
extremely active for the past few months, it was akin to torture. For Harry, who knew what was
slithering through the pipes of Hogwarts, knew what danger lay in waiting, it was unbearable.

It was nearing the Christmas holidays and the twins who, like Neville, had visited faithfully
each day always gave them the latest gossip and the most common belief was that any student who
left for the holiday probably wouldn't return, figuring it was better to be homeschooled than
remain in a place that was all but suffocating from the tension caused by the not so mysterious
Slytherin's beast. Not everyone believed it was a basilisk, a number of Ravenclaws had scoffed
at the idea since no one had died but a few people had taken to carrying around mirrors after
postulating that it could be a gorgon.

After hearing that theory, Hermione had confided to him that it would be impossible for a gorgon
to be the monster of Slytherin. Apparently it was a documented fact in both magical and muggle
books that the reflected look of a gorgon did nothing. However, a point blank gorgon's glare
turned her victims to stone and they could never be revived. The basilisk's reflected glare put
its victims into a frozen state.

Sometimes the boy who lived wondered just where Hermione found the time to learn all these
things, but it was good to know. It was even better to know when Lavender of all people actually
came by to visit Hermione and to try to chat with the bushy haired girl. Later Harry discovered
that Hermione's refutation of the Ravenclaws' theory was spread all over the castle and it
had caused a rift between the younger Gryffindors and essentially all the Ravenclaws. The
Gryffindors, for all their mocking of Hermione and her intelligence, took a special, smug sort of
pride in their smartest housemate. The Ravenclaws refused to believe that they could possibly be
wrong, especially when the refutation of their theory was presented by a *Gryffindor* of all
things. The slur against the intelligence of the house of lions had not gone unnoticed and it had
many people rather annoyed. It also had all of the Gryffindor supporters sporting mirrors and
talking about basilisks. Harry was annoyed by the new rivalry, it was bad enough that Slytherin
hated the Gryffindors, but if it meant people were at least pretending to take the basilisk
seriously then he didn't care overly much.

According to the twins, despite the rumors and the outright fights between houses over the
theory of the basilisk, the teachers all refused to believe that the monster could possibly be a
basilisk. Even Dumbledore was rumored to have scoffed at such a theory. Harry had raised a brow at
that and George had backtracked.

“Okay,” the twin admitted, “he didn't scoff so much as he dismissed the idea entirely.”

“Then said some drivel about Hogwarts being the safest place in the world.” Fred added
derisively.

“All the teachers think that if the monster was a basilisk then there would just be dead
students, not petrified students,” George sighed.

“Professor Kettleburn, care of magical creatures professor, said it was impossible,” Fred
informed them, “Apparently Scotland's too cold for a basilisk. According to him, even if one
had been around at the time of the founders and was originally Slytherin's familiar or
anything, it would have died ages ago from the cold.”

“McGonagall mentioned something about the Minister and one of the members of the school board
coming to Hogwarts. They're supposed to be bringing in some magical disease expert to tell
what's going on.” George informed the hospitalized duo.

Harry straightened up as he heard this information. Something about it resonated in his mind.
Hermione scowled lightly.

“I wish that you had never been oblivated,” Hermione grumbled. “I can't even do anything
right now without risking Madam Pomfrey finding out since she's monitoring our magical cores so
closely. And why would they bring in a magical *disease* expert? I thought everyone believed
that a creature is responsible even if the teachers apparently don't believe it's a
basilisk.”

The twins both shrugged.

“Everyone who's annoyed with a Ravenclaw is acting like they think it's a basilisk, but
that's more to annoy them. Once people realized that the gorgon thing really was a stupid
theory, the Ravenclaws came up with another idea. Since they're supposed to be the smart ones,
most of the sheep of Hogwarts decided to follow whatever they say until a teacher refutes it. The
most popular Ravenclaw theory is that it's actually a disease and someone's taking
advantage of it to mess with everyone by claiming its being done by Slytherin's monster instead
so it'll kill more people,” Fred revealed.

“A few people think that the students who are petrified aren't exactly just frozen like they
are so much as they're slowly dying,” George said somberly.

“Either way, the mandrakes are almost fully mature and then Professor Destiny says she can whip
up something to cure the petrified students,” Fred sighed as his face took on the love struck,
sappy expression that was becoming increasingly typical whenever Professor Destiny was mentioned.
Harry thought about the beautiful new professor but he was only left cold. He didn't notice the
way the manacle around his wrist was suddenly glowing slightly.

“If only we knew something that could get rid of the snake safely now,” Hermione sighed,
“without losing the chance to catch whoever is behind this whole thing. If only your traps had
worked!”

“That's what those were for?” Fred demanded.

“We could always try again, with something new,” George pointed out, “Now that you've
actually told us what we'll be trying to trap, we can figure out something.”

Harry shook his head.

“Whoever is controlling the basilisk already got through your traps once, they'll be more on
guard from now on. This is likely a Slytherin, and not a Slytherin like Malfoy who just mouths off
and threatens to tell his father if something doesn't go his way, but someone who actually
knows what cunning means.” Harry pointed out, “Otherwise Myrtle would have mentioned seeing someone
and we could have found him or her by now.”

“Not necessarily,” George countered, “Myrtle's easily insulted and easily distracted.”

“Not really a fun target,” Fred added passively, “gets too worked up over something that
isn't personal at all, never laughs.”

“And ghosts don't have much of a memory,” George added, “If something's really novel to
`em then it'll stand out and they might remember if you question `em right.”

“But there's no guarantee,” Fred continued.

“And since she figures that everyone makes fun of her she doesn't bother to remember
specific offenders unless they repeat themselves,” George finished decisively.

“Then we've got to figure out some way to monitor the entrance to the Chamber. It's the
only place we know that the heir will definitely go,” Hermione declared. Harry remained silent. He
disagreed and he knew that she knew that, or so he assumed from the pointed look that she sent him.
But getting into a fight right now would be pointless.

“It's too bad that the map doesn't have a recall feature,” Fred sighed.

“The map?” Hermione questioned.

“It's a map that my dad and his friends made,” Harry explained, speaking before he could
think. He blinked and looked at Hermione who's eyes were wide in surprise.

“Huh,” Harry grinned, “do oblivations ever wear off?”

“Oblivations?” Fred asked.

“Dumbledore oblivated him last time he was here,” Hermione growled.

“Dumbledore?” George began in disbelief, “Are you sure it wasn't someone else?”

“He's the only one who could have done it apparently,” Harry informed the two Weasleys,
after glancing around to make sure that Madam Pomfrey wasn't close enough to hear, “I told you
things, asked you for things, and I don't remember any of it. I don't remember why I asked
you such things or any of this stuff. Hermione's been working on helping me remember but
it's slow going. I didn't know about the map until just now.”

“Oblivations don't wear off,” Hermione interjected, “but maybe my work on your memory has
jarred some things loose and more will start coming back naturally. And yes, it had to have been
Dumbledore. Harry went to the hospital wing with his memory intact one day and then when I came to
visit him just a few minutes later, I saw Dumbledore leaving him and Harry didn't remember
anything. Madam Pomfrey was the only other person in the hospital wing at the time, except for
those who had been petrified, and she couldn't have done it since it would have been against
her magical oath.”

The twins exchanged looks and George nodded. Then they turned back to the younger pair.

“Setting that aside for now, the map shows everyone in Hogwarts wherever they are at the instant
that we're looking at the map. If Filch is coming down the hall and one of us is looking at the
map then we'll know and can get out of the way,” Fred explained, “It also shows all the
passages and passwords that the Marauders found.”

“The Marauders?” Hermione asked, looking intrigued.

“My dad and his friends, that's what they called themselves,” Harry told the busy haired
girl. He felt a smile creep up on him. He was remembering!

“Moony, Padfoot and Prongs,” the boy-who-lived went on.

“And Wormtail,” Fred added, “Don't forget him.”

The red haired boys laughed while Harry frowned. Something about Fred's statement didn't
quite ring true. His scowl increased and he almost cursed. Just when he thought that he had begun
to remember!

“We did look at it over Halloween, but no one appeared near Myrtle's bathroom,” George
pointed out while Harry brooded over the newest lapse in memory.

“Does the map really show *everyone* in Hogwarts when you use it?” Hermione asked and
George winced.

“Not exactly,” Fred hedged.

“If there's an adult around then the map will be able to tell you where they are and their
name,” George explained.

“But there are so many students in Hogwarts that it would be impractical for the map to show
them all at any given time,” Fred added.

“So instead the Marauders set it so you'll only see the people you know, unless
someone's getting close to where you are of course,” George informed them.

“If someone you don't know gets close then the map will tell you, it just won't give you
a name,” Fred finished.

“So even if we catch the heir on the map, if we don't know who he is then we won't be
able to tell?” Hermione asked and the twins nodded sadly.

“And we don't pay much attention to the firsties,” Fred admitted, “You two were an exception
of course since you became friends with ickle ronniekins and Longbottom became interesting after a
few explosions in Snape's class.”

Everyone sent a look at the still unconscious potions master.

“Then we found it it wasn't on purpose,” George sighed, “We had gotten so excited thinking
there was a potential pranking apprentice among the new firsties.”

“But no, just Snape being Snape and buggering up his class,” Fred said with his own sigh.

“I suppose we could meet all of the first years,” Harry said doubtfully, breaking away from his
anger and frustration.

“It would be a thrill for them to meet the famous Harry Potter,” George cackled and Harry
scowled at him while Fred and Hermione laughed.

“Hermione, are there any spells in those journals that might help us track down the heir?” Harry
asked, ignoring the grins on the twins' faces.

“Unfortunately, not one that works in Hogwarts,” Hermione sighed, “the castle is just too filled
with magic and the wards interfere with any of the methods your ancestors describe.”

“How do you know?” Fred demanded, “After all, you said that we could apparate in Hogwarts.”

“And yet,” George began and with a small pop he disappeared from Fred's side and another pop
announced his presence when he reappeared at the side of Hermione's bed, “Fred and I both
can.”

Now it was Hermione's turn to scowl.

“If you must know,” she began testily, “It's because I tried using the spells in the
journals. Every time I looked for anything, as long as it was within the bounds of Hogwarts then my
spell didn't work.”

“Where,” Harry began but he stopped as Madam Pomfrey came stalking to the small group, a scowl
on her face and two trays piled high with food floating beside her. Harry felt his stomach rebel
slightly at the sight of so much food.

“Mr. Weasleys,” Madam Pomfrey began, her tone brooking no argument, “Out.”

Though they, like generations of their ancestors before them, were in many ways embodiments of
the traits that Godric Gryffindor had so prized in his students, when faced with Madam Pomfrey,
both twins were sure that tickling a sleeping dragon would be a safer pastime than disobeying the
mistress of medicine. They retreated.

“Wait!” Hermione called after them, ignoring the sharp look Madam Pomfrey gave her, “Ask Luna to
get my journal for me please! Tell her it's in my trunk. She should know the appropriate steps
to retrieve it from there.”

The twins exchanged looks but said nothing before they nodded to Hermione.

“Appropriate steps?” Harry asked as he pushed his food around on the plate. Madam Pomfrey glared
at him so he quickly shoved a few bites into his mouth.

“Lavender and Parvati are my roommates,” Hermione said darkly, “And they have no compunction
with going into someone else's trunk and borrowing one's last clean skirt or skimming
through someone's diary.”

“Eat!” Madam Pomfrey commanded imperiously and the two Gryffindors reluctantly obeyed.

Harry wasn't sure why the formidable woman was so suspicious nor could he figure out what
she was suspicious about, but her hovering was growing more and more tiresome with every passing
second.

Still, after barely choking down the last bite of the mini feast, he feigned sleep by falling
into the meditative trance Hermione had taught him, knowing that while he and Hermione were the
only two conscious people in the hospital wing at the moment, Madam Pomfrey had other duties to
attend to, other things to keep her away from them.

It took longer for her to stop monitoring than Harry expected and he wished that he had thought
to ask the twins to arrange for some sort of suitable distraction before they had left. He had the
brief image of unfamiliar first years, they were too small to be anything else, throwing up while
others were holding rags against their bleeding noses and an older Fred was handing out chocolate
and a few sickles while an older looking George was scribbling down notes.

Still, after years of living with the Dursleys, he had developed patience, even if he didn't
like it, and he was still wide awake when Madam Pomfrey left. When he opened his eyes and saw how
dark it was, the boy who couldn't remember assumed that the medi witch had gone to bed. He
retrieved his glasses and concentrated. He wasn't sure this would work. He only had the vaguest
whispers of what might be memories insisting that he could do this. But then, even if he could,
Madame Pomfrey might sense it and come to check on him.

It began first just by seeing it out of the corner of his eyes. Little flashes, bits of bright
colorful lights. But with concentration and a bit of trial and error, soon when he saw the hospital
wing, superimposed over it were colored lights, some of them so strong that he had to keep blinking
until his eyes adjusted to the light. At least he thought they adjusted. Whenever certain lights,
such as the shimmering, blazing silver outside of the windows, made him feel as though he had tried
to look at the sun, he only needed to keep blinking and somehow the light seemed to dim in his
sight. It gave him yet another feeling of déjà vu but he ignored it for now. Apparently the ruler
of the hospital wing couldn't sense it so he was going to use this to his advantage.

He looked away from the entrancing silver light and looked down at his bed. The colors over it
were a soothing gray green green but he could see several other colors, little strings of darker
green and thick ropes of purple, intertwined with the lighter gray green. The purple wrapped around
his clothes, around his legs. He glanced over at Hermione and saw the ropes of purple light wrapped
around her, holding her as firmly as they held him, or at least as firmly as they would hold him if
they were solid.

He wasn't quite sure what to do at first but experimentation proved that if he sort of
reached out he could mentally push the purple ropes. It was a bit as though he had his physical
body and a mental one and the mental one was doing the work.

It wasn't easy work but slowly and surely he managed to untangle himself from the hold of
the purple and dark green. By the time he was finished he was exhausted. He almost decided to give
up and remain in the hospital wing for the rest of the night, but then he glanced over at the
students who lay in their petrified state. He looked over at Hermione who restlessly shifted in her
sleep, murmuring under her breath. He felt his resolve strengthen and carefully he made his way out
of the hospital wing.

He wasn't sure why but he couldn't help but grin. He knew that he was probably heading
off to his doom but it felt so right to actually be doing something rather than just practicing and
trying to recreate whatever he had learned and forgotten. Besides, despite what Hermione thought,
he did actually have a plan. After all, there was only so much he could meditate and he had to do
something while Hermione was doing her homework.

That he could be doing his own homework had occurred to him but was put aside.

He kept his head down and his ears alert as he made his way through the halls as quickly as he
dared. He knew he couldn't afford to be caught on his way to the chamber. Without his
invisibility cloak he knew it would be more difficult to avoid the patrolling teachers and prefects
and he was sure that the portraits would be curious, but he had to get to the chamber. He could
only hope that he and the basilisk would be the only ones there.

=/\=

Oh gosh, that probably wasn't worth the wait, huh? I promise I'll try to get the next
chapter up sooner! I'm so, so very sorry this took so long!

Once again, thanks to Paladeus for letting me bounce ideas off of him and for poking at me to
get this chapter going! And for long ago giving me permission to borrow Lora, even if she was only
mentioned she still belongs to him.

-->



20. An Interlude with the Ladies
--------------------------------



Me own Harry Potter? Now where would you get a silly idea like that?

=/\=

An Interlude with the Ladies

As she lay in her bed, listening to the snoring of her roommates, Ginny Weasley decided she was
having a terrible, horrible first year at Hogwarts.

Oh sure she was doing well in her classes and she not only knew everyone in her year but she was
friends with most of them, even those who had not been brave enough to become Gryffindors. The few
she wasn't friends with were the Slytherins as a whole, a couple of particularly stuck up
Hufflepuffs and Luna Lovegood, but then she hadn't really been friends with Looney since the
beginning of the summer. She had been praised by Flitwick the other day for her levitation spell
and Professor Destiny had given her points for knowing correct potions procedure.

But none of that meant anything because Boy-Who-Lived was ignoring her!

She had grown up hearing about the Boy-Who-Lived and how he defeated You-Know-Who, the wickedest
monster to ever plague the magical world. Tales about the Boy-Who-Lived had made up all of her
favorite bed time stories. She loved the Boy-Who-Lived with all her heart and she was certain that
they were destined for each other.

She was positive that her belief was confirmed as Ron told her more about her beloved
Boy-Who-Lived. Every letter Ron sent back to the family were filled with stories of how he was
friends with the Boy-Who-Lived and how they were nice enough to let some muggle born girl hang out
with them and how he and the Boy-Who-Lived were the best of friends and had discovered all sorts of
interesting things in the castle. When he first returned home from Hogwarts for the summer he went
on and on about how he and the Boy-Who-Lived had rescued the school, and possibly the world too,
from a teacher who had apparently been some sort of left over follower of You-Know-Who.

She had thought that as Ron's little sister and as part of the family that had housed him
for a good half of the summer the Boy-Who-Lived would save some room by Him where she could do her
homework and listen to him.

Of course that theory probably only would have worked if she had managed to dredge up the
courage to talk to Him over the summer. And if she could ever actually find Him while He was doing
his homework with that bushy haired buck toothed muggle born. Of course He must be so smart that he
got His homework done in class, but why was he never in the common room? The way Ron talked about
Him during the summer before He came to the Burrow, He and Ron were always playing chess or
something. But so far she could count the number of times she had seen him hanging around the
common room on one hand. Sometimes she was lucky and saw Him running through the hallways and she
had almost gotten Him when she had persuaded the Quidditch captain to let her lead the search for
the school's star seeker. But that interfering buck toothed bushy haired muggle born had
apparently found him first and sent Him to the field before she could even get the chance to hold
His hand! And he was always rushing through meals and now he was in the hospital wing and she
hadn't even been able to dredge up the courage to go and visit him!

She pouted to herself as she stared into the darkness of the room and absently noted that
someone else was awake and moving around. She ignored whoever it was and tried to figure out why on
earth the Hat had put her in Gryffindor. What sort of Gryffindor couldn't talk to her soul
mate?

The youngest Weasley was jolted out of her misery by the sound of someone tripping over
something. She pulled the curtains of her bed open and glared out into the darkness.

“Go to sleep!” she hissed. At least *she* was being quiet while she dwelled on her misery
and how horrible the year was going so far.

“After I find the urisk,” came the reply from the inky darkness. Ginny rolled her eyes as she
recognized the voice. Only Luna would be up at this late at night in order to look for silly
creatures that not even muggles believed in.

“Whatever,” Ginny huffed, “Just don't get caught!”

She didn't hear Luna reply. Instead she chose to return to dwelling on her misery. If only
she could figure out some way to get the Boy-Who-Lived to notice her! Well, notice was probably
wrong. She was positive that he at least knew who she was. After all, had been around him for a
good half of the summer. But he still didn't talk to her!

And on top of that, Professor Destiny had dropped hints that she was going to ask her to be a
student assistant in potions class! That would label her as a nerd or worse, a teacher's pet,
for the rest of her time at Hogwarts! People would consider her another version of Percy! That
could be a disaster! The Boy-Who-Lived would never look twice at someone like that!

Ginny let out a moan. She hated her life.

=/\=

Luna Lovegood traipsed through the dark halls of Hogwarts with a smile on her face, a song in
her heart and Harry's invisibility cloak surrounding her. She loved Hogwarts. At Hogwarts she
was learning to channel her magic and make it even more powerful. At Hogwarts she had real, solid,
*human* friends that the Others approved of. It was strange to think that she had lived by
them for so long but had never before been able to consider the twin red heads friends. And once
Ginny had abandoned her she had felt sure that all the other Weasleys would follow suit, but the
twins had not. In fact, since coming to Hogwarts they had actively kept an eye on her and at least
one of them had defended her from some of the nastier bullies. Even better, she had a female
friend! Hermione was brilliant even if she was a bit silly about certain matters but she knew that
the older girl would learn eventually and their friendship would flourish. And then there was Harry
Potter. He was an exception in many ways but he was kind and rather funny to watch as he tried to
rush around. He was often distracted but she could tell that the Others were getting ready to make
contact with him. She was looking forward to that meeting.

The young blonde glanced down at her hand and restrained a squeal of glee. She could tell that
the time was getting closer. She didn't know what Harry had done to get that bracelet, quite
dreaded to even think about it, but she was going to be indebted to the Potters' for perhaps
the rest of her existence and she would be so happily. The first touch of that bracelet had
reminded her of all she had purposefully forgotten and the second touch had set her on her way to
true freedom. A third time might hurry the process but she didn't think that she would risk it.
Messing with that sort of power always had consequences.

She pushed the thoughts from her mind for now and continued on her way. She had been warned that
Harry was up to something and she was determined to help her friend. And she knew very well that he
needed her help. After all, what sort of warrior went into battle without his best weapons? Or at
the very least a favor from his lady.

The young witch froze for a moment and cocked her head to the side. Her eyes widened and she
began to hasten her steps. If she was going to get the Champion's weapons and his favor from
Hermione then she had to hurry!

=/\=

Mina paced and tried not to pay too much attention the screen in front of her, if she did then
she'd just end up doing something stupid, she knew it. Instead she tried to figure out where
she went wrong. When she'd finished her initial training she'd been given a charge to watch
over during her apprenticeship. After her apprenticeship with Jim, she'd received offers from
every Mortis department in the world. Until this incident, Ayame had regularly sent her post cards
asking if she'd changed her mind and decided she wanted to be a shinigami more than she wanted
to be a reaper. She had once been considered one of the best guardians in the department, and
certainly the most efficient junior reaper available.

The Potter line had been given to her charge over a millennia ago, as a reward for her hard
work.

That was how it went after all. Rather than new jobs within the department, a department where
management positions were actually rather pointless, the best reapers were rewarded with family
lines instead of individuals. Reapers preferred to watch families. In many cases it was more
interesting to watch over a family rather than a bunch of individuals, and less stressful. You were
more or less encouraged to grow attached to a family and unless something huge went wrong, your
family charge stayed within the same general area. If you watched over an entire family yourself
then you didn't have to worry about your charge's soul being damaged because of the poor
work of another guardian.

Beside, the only way to actually move up in the department was simply by someone ahead of you
getting a real promotion and then the oldest reaper would step into their place. She shuddered at
the idea of being named a senior reaper. Senior reapers had to train apprentices, which could take
centuries even if the apprentices didn't suck, and they did more paperwork. Senior reapers
could be assigned to the Board, the group that reviewed every department and jumped on every
potential infraction of the rules. The not very grim reaper didn't think she'd mind an
apprentice but the last thing she wanted to do was go anywhere near the Board. More than anything,
since she'd first learned about them in basic training, she wanted a real promotion.

And she'd been *so close*.

She was sure that scaring wasn't against the rules. The goblins still could have chosen to
be unhelpful, but they probably wouldn't have liked the consequences. And she could do whatever
she wanted with consequences, provided she didn't hurt anyone's body or soul. The mind was
free though.

For now she stopped dwelling on her loss. She could probably find the time to mourn later, or at
the very least go and stick more pins in her Destiny voodoo doll.

Almost without thinking, the dainty brunette looked at the viewing screen showing her most
troublesome charge.

She blinked.

Then she rubbed her eyes.

“No,” Mina whispered, “No, no, no, no, no! What, how in the name of the seven realms could is
this *possibl**e*?”

Her eyes widened further and the reaper put her hands over her mouth to muffle the scream that
escaped.

“Why didn't her guardian tell me about this?” Mina hissed to the empty room when she'd
regained what passed for composure for her, “Bad enough the bloody throwback brownie is not only
there but chaos touched on top of that and of course Harry hangs around the chaos twins more than
he did before but now he's going to be in contact with *them*? *They* aren't
supposed to be released at this level for another two millennia, not until after terra forming is
made possible! It's only supposed to be isolated incidents until then! Nothing like this!”

For just a minute Mina wondered if it would be worth it to kill Harry herself. The punishment
for failure couldn't be that bad. After all, they'd already taken away her promotion.

She pushed the thought aside almost as quickly as it had come and turned away from the mirror.
She had research to complete, planning to do and she'd probably have to bake at least three
dozen cookies for Jim when he realized what Harry was about to unleash and probably even more
cookies for the other departments when they tracked down who was to blame for this latest
unscheduled development. She made a note to remember to bake a really big cake for Fate just in
case.

=/\=

However much Mina or other reapers protested, the fact remained that Death was not omnipotent
and neither were those that worked in the department of death. Oh they knew exactly when and where
everyone and everything would end their time in the mortal plain and they were very good at keeping
an eye on their charges. They were, in general, very good at figuring out where certain choices
would lead their charges and how they would change things in relation to their other charges. But
they often missed certain things. And there were many who took advantage of that.

Deep within the depths of Hogwarts was one such person. In the small suite of rooms that had
once been occupied by Professor Severus Snape, a lovely woman sat in front of a fire and gazed
deeply into one of a dozen different mirrors. She was a beautiful woman. Her face looked as if a
master had carved it from marble and her hair was a wave of golden silk that spilled over the arm
of the chair she sat in. Her custom made black silk robes perfectly displayed her trim waist and
generous assets, hinting without being vulgar. She held a golden mirror in her hand but rather than
her own reflection of a heart shaped face with large sky blue eyes, she the suffering Ginny
Weasley. In another mirror at her side, one could see the image of Harry Potter sneaking through
the halls of Hogwarts. The other ten each showed something different as well.

“Poor baby,” the woman cooed and a sharp grin appeared on her lovely face, “But don't worry
little one. The Granger brat may have Death working on her behalf, but Death is no match for
Destiny. Whatever Destiny proclaims *will* happen.”

She stood up and began to walk towards another mirror, one hanging over a vanity covered in tiny
glass bottles and vials. In this mirror the woman called Destiny saw two scenes side by side.

One scene was of the dainty brunette reaper, pouring over books and occasionally scratching out
something on paper. Her hair had been twisted up into a bun rather than her customary ponytail and
it was held in place by a number of pencils and a single quill decorated the slap dash style. There
was a smudge of flour on her cheek. She was surrounded by hundreds of other books and seemed
completely involved in her work.

Destiny glared at the image of the reaper and put one manicured finger to her lips as she
considered the oblivious Mina. She shook her head and looked at the other scene and smiled.

The other scene contained a tall young man sitting in front of a giant loom. Sandy hair flopped
into hazel eyes as he worked, his concentration unbreakable.

Destiny sighed over the image, watched the broad shoulder and dared to move the image slightly
in order to see more of his face. But as she did so he looked up, seemed to look exactly at her
through the mirror and scowled.

She huffed in indignation when a brief flash of light shone in her mirror and suddenly her
looking glass showed only the uppity little reaper girl.

“Now that Harry has lost his true advantage, you're going to fail you little brat,” Destiny
said to the image, “You're going to fail and when you do, it will *all* be mine. He'll
be mine this time. You'll lose everything. Everything you loved, everything you worked for,
everything's going to be mine.”

The image of the reaper faded, leaving only Destiny's lovely appearance gazing back at her.
She looked at herself for a moment and then smiled.

“Red I think,” the beautiful woman said to herself and as she did her hair changed from waves of
sunshine to locks of bright, ruby red.

“Much better,” Destiny purred and she turned away from her reflection in favor of her another
mirror in which a dark hair boy with a yellow and black scarf was using the telescope in the
astronomy tower.

=/\=

At first Hermione wasn't sure what had caused her to wake up but after a moment she noted
Luna at the foot of her bed.

“What's going on?” she asked the strange younger girl. Hermione still wasn't entirely
sure what to think of her. Harry had told her quite a bit about Luna during his original exposition
of what could have happened to her and what she did to help. Hermione had interpreted some of what
he had told her and had determined that she would like Luna, that they could be good friends. There
was something about her that Hermione had instantly liked.

But at the same time, the way the girl thought was at times so very alien to her that she often
had a hard time biting her tongue to keep herself from insulting the seemingly fragile blonde. She
had so few friends, and Luna would be the only female friend, so the last thing she wanted to do
was insult her before she could discover if this Luna would be all that Harry claimed she once was
in another life. She really wanted a friend, a girl, someone who would understand the things that,
no matter how close she had gotten to Harry, would simply be awkward to discuss with him.

That she had liked Luna almost as soon as she'd met her, felt that she would have liked the
blonde even without Harry's stories, was strangely enough, a mark against her as well. All
throughout school the witch had met other children, many of whom she had liked instantly, and had
subsequently been betrayed by them. To meet someone like that now, even someone that Harry vetted,
made Hermione wary. Perhaps especially because Harry had vetted her. As much as she cared for
Harry, Hermione privately didn't really think of him as the best judge of people. After all,
*Ron* was his best friend. She appreciated Ron, to a degree. The Weasley boy had helped save
her life. But that didn't stop her from getting her feelings hurt when he made a crass or rude
comment or made her feel as though the only reason anyone would hang out with her was for academic
help. And it didn't stop the bite when he made derisive or dismissive comments about
muggles.

“You didn't notice?” Luna asked, a brow raised, “He didn't take his wand or get his
sword. Or talk to the urisk.”

“His sword?” Hermione repeated dumbly. She looked over at Harry's bed and bit back a curse
and wondered, how she could have possibly missed this?

Of course Harry hadn't just been brooding over the latest rash of victims or his inability
to remember. No, he had been planning.

“Of course,” Luna replied, as though it was obvious, “Every warrior needs a sword when going off
to battle the monster and rescue the princess.”

“Or impress the princess when she's not in need of rescuing,” the blonde waif revised with a
smile on her face.

“Well, I'm afraid that I'm fresh out of swords,” Hermione admitted as she gingerly tried
to get out of the bed. When Madam Pomfrey didn't instantly appear Hermione sighed and smirked
to herself. Being the “obedient patient” while Harry tried to escape had paid off.

“You should go back to bed,” Hermione ordered her younger friend as she searched through her
things. After a moment managed to find a few sickles and her compact mirror. The application of
some transfiguration turned the group of items into a large mirror shield. She wasn't sure how
strong it would be but strength wasn't the point, the reflectivity would at least keep her and
Harry from dying. She mentally began to run through anything she had read that might help her and
cursed. Most of what she had gleaned from the journals dealt with the very basics and touched on
mind magics. She hadn't gotten very far in translating or practicing the more advanced things
and she got the feeling that those advanced things might be what would help most. She hadn't
really practiced anything that she could think to apply to a situation like this.

Luna shook her head.

“No,” the blonde said in a strangely firm voice, “Something's going on. You might need me
tonight. At the very least, you'll need this.”

Luna waved Harry's cloak around before she wrapped it about her shoulders, leaving only her
head floating in the darkness.

“And if I don't have it then I might get caught going back to the tower,” Luna pointed
out.

“Better caught by a teacher than dead,” Hermione countered as arranged some pillows beneath the
blankets to make it seem as though people were still in the two empty beds. Some more
transfiguration created a simulation of her own hair at the head of her now empty bed and a
facsimile of Harry's messy locks at the head of his pillow self. It wouldn't stand up to
anything more than a casual glance but it would give people pause. Luna only laughed.

“The safest place to be right now is with the one who seeks the monster,” Luna said breezily,
joining Hermione under the invisibility cloak.

Hermione wanted to argue, she really did! But the idea of confronting the snake on her own
terrified her more than she dared to admit. She was grateful that Luna was willing to stick by
her.

She felt her resolve harden. She was going to save Harry if he was in over his head, which was
likely, and she was going to protect Luna Lovegood.

Nothing less would be acceptable.

=/\=

And there you have it, and hey, it didn't take me a year!

Then again, as the title said, it was just an interlude, but Destiny insisted on getting into
the spotlight, diva that she is.

For the real chapter we catch up with Harry who has Hermione hot on his heels and Luna trilling
behind with her own bag of tricks ready to help out.

As a hint, a urisk isn't just a made up creature from Luna or the Quibbler's
imaginations…

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