Unofficial Portkey Archive

The next morning, Justin Finch-Fletchley left Hogwarts under the guise of familial obligations. Neither the boys in his dormitory nor any other Hufflepuffs saw him leave, but Professor Lupin had informed them of his departure. The slight amount of gossip quickly made its way to Slytherin ears and it was Blaise who heard it first.

"Justin's gone," Blaise said in low tones as he dug in for breakfast.

The recipient of his message nodded, his black hair falling across his glasses as he skewered a banger with vicious retribution. Though it fell short of the capital punishment he wanted to inflict the previous night, it was a small victory nonetheless. Harry Potter could now rest easy for the year knowing that his main antagonist wasn't in the closet. That wasn't to say there were no other dangers at all, but at least he wouldn't have to constantly look over his shoulder for that certain Hufflepuff.

"Snape kept his word then," Harry commented.

"Bastard better." Blaise grumbled, chancing a look at Tracey.

Sandwiched between the two boys was an unusually quiet girl. To the naked eye, she looked to be fine, but Harry and Blaise knew that she had used copious amounts of makeup and charms to cover the series of bruises around her neck. It had taken plenty of coaxing and wildly evasive answers to Pansy before Tracey had emerged to accompany them for breakfast. Frankly, neither of them wanted to leave her alone for any extended period of time after the ordeal she had suffered. Worst of it all was that she could hardly tell anyone else about it.

"You feeling okay, Tracey?" Harry asked in genuine concern.

"Great! I'm glad that he's gone," she said in a chipper voice.

Harry and Blaise exchanged glances and the latter shrugged. It was hard to tell what Tracey was feeling and unlocking this mystery was not quite Harry's expertise. He knew that he would have felt more than perturbed had he been on the brink of death so obviously Tracey's reaction was slightly unnatural at best. He would have to keep his eyes on her.

"Did you choose your Track? McGonagall said they have to be due in a couple of days." Harry continue to spurn the conversation with her.

"Harry's probably not going to get picked for General Battle, the prick. He's going to leave us," Blaise said.

"You don't know that. With the way Snape hates me, he'll probably put me in General Battle anyways."

"You have to stay with us!" Blaise implored.

"I was actually thinking of taking Medical," Tracey quietly interjected.

Blaise froze, perplexed as to why she would choose that Track. Then, realization dawned upon him.

"You're both leaving me!?" Blaise cried.

Tracey blushed as she mixed around some scones.

"Well, I do have really high marks in Potions. It's always been my best subject. Slughorn has said multiple times that I would work well in an Apothecary. My Creatures grade is passable and...well, let's face it, I'm just not that good at Battle class."

"That's not true!"

"You're underselling yourself!"

Blaise and Harry protested respectively, trying to make their case. Blaise was concerned that he was going to be taking extra classes of Battle class without either of his friends while Harry was curious as to why she would choose the Medical track. She had previously never expressed such an interest. Then again, Harry had never really asked. He just assumed they would most likely be in General Battle.

"I - I - I mean I don't even know if I'll get in. The teachers will probably recommend me for General Battle since my Creatures grade isn't as high as it could be, but - I think - I think I'm going to put in for Medical," Tracey stuttered and stammered.

Blaise was speechless, utterly flabbergasted that he was going to be alone in General Battle. He thought for sure that Tracey would at least be there with him as Harry was always destined for bigger and better things, but even she didn't want to be in General Battle anymore. Harry sat there contemplatively, still trying to make good with Tracey's choice.

"Whatever you choose, I'm sure you're going to be great at it." Harry finally said.

She was allowed to choose what Track she wanted. After all, Harry wasn't going to be in General Battle either and Blaise wasn't making a fuss about that. Just because everyone expected Tracey to be in General Battle didn't mean that she would have to be there.

"Good for you," Harry added.

"Thanks," she gratefully responded.

Blaise continued to shake his head, oblivious, or seemingly oblivious, of Tracey's guilt in choosing Medical.

"I can't believe you're both leaving me."

"We're still going to be taking most of our classes together, dolt." Harry reached over to smack Blaise on the arm. "It's just the specialization classes that are different."

"That really makes me feel better. Draco Malfoy leading the charge for the Slytherins. I'm sure that will go well," Blaise sarcastically said.

"We'll still be in the classes, Blaise," Harry wearily repeated. "I'm pretty sure we'll still be in the same dorm as well."

"Still," Blaise grumbled as he picked into his loaf.

The dark Slytherin's disgruntledness carried on for most of breakfast though Harry struggled to understand why he was so perturbed. Harry mused that most of Blaise's distraughtness would arrive in the form of having to cooperate with other Slytherins. Blaise, more than other people, obsessed over having control of his surroundings and being forced to partner with Draco or Theodore Nott of all people would no doubt unsettle him. Still, Harry knew that Blaise was quick on his feet and quicker with his tongue and didn't doubt his ability to make new alliances within Slytherin.

A rush of students flocked into the Great Hall, chattering excitedly. Harry watched them pass, noting that none of the Hufflepuffs seemed particularly upset or interested that Justin was gone. The explanation Snape gave them must have been sufficient enough to disregard any other questions as to why Justin had to leave school a month early. It was good enough for Harry.

"What's all the commotion for?" Harry asked.

"I guess you weren't really around for the announcement last night," Blaise said."They're showing the final rankings for the Master List today."

Harry turned around in his seat, noticing that the Master List was still wrapped up at the top near the rafters. There was a collection of students, mostly older years, settled underneath, waiting to see if their name was one of the top twenty so they could compete for the Hogwarts Trophy.

"It's 8 to 1 that you place in the top twenty by the way," Blaise commented, finally breaking out of his rut.

"Those don't seem like long odds."

"I think people learned their lesson from earlier in the year. You think Snape will put you on there?"

"I wouldn't put it past him." Harry glanced towards the Head table, noticing the headmaster conversing with an irate looking professor Lupin.

They didn't have to wait long. A quarter before eight, the banner unfurled in a theatrical manner, magically unfolding like a scroll as the gold letters stood out against the black background. Harry only need to scan down a few lines to find his place.

20th - Harry Potter, Third Year

This time, there weren't gasps of astonishment or a brief pause of disbelief. There were a few glances his way, but it seemed like more people were expecting it at this point. Blaise was excitedly picking up bets for Harry's placement and already making odds for the eventual winner, but Harry just turned to look at the head table.

Oddly enough, Snape wasn't even looking towards the Master List banner. He was still in a fitful argument with professor Lupin and didn't even bother paying attention to the ceremony before him. In the distance, Harry heard other students cheer for their friends and housemates that had achieved a top twenty placement for qualification in the competition for the Hogwarts Trophy. While he recognized a few names and discovered that Marcus Flint and Emily Kitchen were the other Slytherins in the top twenty, he didn't recognize the large majority of the others.

"So what are you going to do?" Blaise asked after the clamour died down.

Tracey and Blaise were looking at him expectantly, but Harry had already decided on what to do.

"I think I have just the thing..."

* * * * *

There was a week to prepare and most of the other nineteen students in the top twenty of the Master List could be found in the library researching spells or in Trow's classroom studying old tape or using the Room of Requirement during empty periods. Yet, no one could find Harry Potter. There were rumors of him being seen holed up in his dormitory or in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, training with the centaurs. Others said that he was practicing within the Great Lake. The die hard conspiracists mused that he was within the headmaster's quarters, receiving training from Snape himself.

Yet, Harry Potter was still seen in classes, participating and making grades that ranged from Outstanding to simply Acceptable. If there was something to say, it was that Harry Potter was more reserved than normal and could rarely be seen without the company of his two best friends, Tracey Davis and Blaise Zabini. The trio were inseparable, an indistinguishable blob that proved to be more cohesive as the year went on. But if you looked closely, you could see fine differences. Harry was more confident, walking with an air of invulnerability that was obvious to everyone around him. Tracey was smaller, less noticeable and prone to long bouts of silence. Only Blaise was the same, quick with tongue but cold in the eyes.

On the night of the battle for the Hogwarts Trophy, the whole school was invited into attendance and, this time, there were no stray students wandering about in the hallways. Said hallways were empty, a cavern of empty spirits and ghosts. Only Filch remained, patrolling the corridors in a manner that was lackadaisical for him. The entirety of the school had already filed within the Room of Requirements while the remaining twenty students resided in an adjacent classroom. The door would open one at a time for them and they would enter the imagined scenario separately.

In the holding room, the youngest student of that batch sat in the corner of the room away from everyone else. There were a few accusatory glances but most of them just detached a wandering gaze towards the boy in the corner with a sense of curiousness.

"What is he doing here?" They would whisper to each other.

Harry Potter ignored all of it, calmly sitting in the corner with his knee bouncing ever so slightly while he balanced his wand in the center of his palm so that the weight was evenly distributed on both sides. He neither looked up nor engaged in any conversation with the older students around them. Their only minder was Moody, staring intensely at everyone at once with his magical eye. Only when he heard a set of footsteps stop near him did Harry lift his head to see who had finally approached him.

"Hullo," the boy said.

Said boy was tall with wild, dirty blond hair. He had an easy smile about him that made him naturally appealing. While he wasn't muscular, he was fit enough so that his body nicely filled out the bland, gray robes that settled on his shoulders. On his breast was the black and yellow badge that marked him as a Hufflepuff.

"Hi," Harry responded, rising to stand.

"Oh no, don't," the Hufflepuff fussed, making a point to sit next to him. "I've been pacing too much as is. I really need to take a seat before we start."

Harry nodded, resuming his sitting position.

"I'm Cedric Diggory."

Cedric Diggory stuck out his hand, the same easy smile on his lips while his eyes danced with merriment. It was a different expression than the rest of their peers around them. Most of sat or stood or paced silently with intense gazes. A few others were trying to crack jokes. Only Diggory seemed at ease.

"Harry Potter," Harry responded in kind.

"I don't think you need any introduction," Cedric replied cheekily. "I've heard a lot of things about you, Harry."

"Oh yeah? What have you heard?"

"Well, you have a lot of names to start out with. Some of my compatriots in Hufflepuff have a few select names for you, but they're rather uncouth." Cedric smiled, trying to impart the joke with Harry.

"I'm sure they have more than a few," Harry dryly added.

Cedric laughed, a quiet chuckle that made his grey eyes twinkle mischievously in the low light.

"Of course you know the one that people call you the most. The Boy-Who-Lived!"

"I do know that one."

"There's a fair few that call you The Heir of Slytherin, but I think they're a bit bonkers myself."

This time, it was Harry who snorted. "I think they're wrong on that one."

"Rumors do have a way of spreading quickly without a thought to them," Cedric conceded. "Yet, I have heard of one name that seems to have a little bit of truth in it. They only speak of it in hush tones and I don't think the Third Year Hufflepuffs seem too fond of it, especially the Finch-Fletchley bloke. Still, everyone's heard of the story."

"Which story?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"The Bringer of Lightning."

Cedric said it in a hushed tone, as if he were uttering an urban legend. Instead of looking serious, his grin grew wider as if he couldn't believe he had used the phrase himself. Feigning innocence, Harry shrugged, not knowing what the Hufflepuff really wanted. Of course, Diggory might have just wanted to talk, but Harry kept up his guard nonetheless.

"That one might be true," Harry answered evasively.

"Oh come off it!" Cedric clapped his hands, attracting a few curious glances their way. "You have to tell me! Just answer true or false for me. You don't have to say anything else. Just give me a yes or no."

Harry shrugged as if to say why not. Diggory seemed harmless and Harry could see why he usually saw this boy in the center of a gaggle of Hufflepuffs. Diggory was naturally charismatic in a way that would make Malfoy jealous.

"Alright. True."

"True to what?" Cedric quickly asked.

"Just true." Harry smiled a little bit this time.

"I'll assume that's true that they call you The Bringer of Lightning." Cedric stroked his chin thoughtfully, trying to think of more questions.

"Is it true that you called lightning down from the clouds and smote everyone in the forest?"

"False."

"Then how'd you do it?"

"That's not a true or false question," Harry pointed out.

"Bollocks, I thought I had you." Cedric snapped his fingers in annoyance. "But you did use a spell that hit multiple targets. I watched the tape of it myself. It wasn't a spell I've ever seen or read about."

"True."

Harry was surprised that Diggory would go out and take the time to watch the tape. Then again, all of the students had probably watched tape on each other. Harry had been up to something else during the week that had elapsed between the reveal and this match.

"Interesting," Cedric murmured. "Do you have a Time Turner?"

"False."

"Had to ask. People thought you were taking double classes with how you were beating them. Is it true you partnered with Granger to plan that little turn in the forest?"

"False," Harry lied, not wanting to give too much fodder to those who would use Granger's alliance with him as a reason to pick on her.

"Really?! I thought I really had that one." Cedric bought it. "Is it true that you can read minds?"

"True."

"Legilimency. Very advanced and not in the curriculum at all. Where'd you get instruction for that one? Snape?"

"False."

"Not from Snape?" Cedric looked absolutely befuddled that Harry could figure out Legilimency on his own. "You'll definitely have to teach me that one. I gather that's a rather useful skill since no one else here is trained in it."

"I think I'll keep that one close to the chest," Harry responded, surprised that Cedric deduced that ability rather quickly.

Diggory looked at him appraisingly, his grey eyes carefully regarding him. "Harry Potter, The Bringer of Lightning, The Boy Who Lived, and mind reader. No wonder you frighten all the Third Years in Hufflepuff. They're constantly sitting around the Common Room scheming on ways to defeat you."

"And why are you telling me this?"

Cedric shrugged. "They're just Third Years. They take everything seriously. Stick a couple years around this place and you'll realize that it's not all life and death all the time."

Diggory leaned back against the wall, lifting arms and crossing his hands behind his head. He surveyed the other eighteen students with a casual pan of the room, almost looking bored. There was a substantial size difference between him and Harry. Whereas Harry was still thin and bony, Cedric was tall and wide shouldered, filling out his clothes well. Normally, Harry could compensate for this physical discrepancy with his dueling ability, but he had no doubt that Diggory was as skilled and probably better. There was also something to be said with the physical dexterity needed to dodge and avoid spells.

"Are you scared?" Cedric asked.

"No."

"Good lad." Cedric nodded. "The worst thing you could do here is freeze up."

There was a moment's pause where Harry turned his head slightly sideways to look at Cedric's amused expression. This Hufflepuff was a lot easier to trust than the one Harry had dealt with the previous week. Taking a chance, Harry asked him to lean closer. Curious, Cedric did as he was asked and leaned his head down.

"Could you do something for me when we go in there?" Harry whispered.

Cedric shrugged indifferently. "Sure."

Leaning closer, Harry whispered something into his ear so that no one else could hear. They pulled away at the same time with different countenances. Harry was satisfied that he could trust Cedric, while the Hufflepuff had a face of confusion.

"Why would you want to do that?" Cedric bewilderedly wondered.

"Can you just do it for me?" Harry repeated.

Cedric shook his head and chuckled. "You're a strange one, Harry Potter. But yeah, I can do that for you."

"Thanks," Harry gratefully answered.

Just as soon as the words exited Harry's mouth, headmaster Snape walked into the room. The headmaster had no indication that he had received Harry's message that night in his office as he walked languidly about, the gait of a predator herding its prey. Snape started to explain to them the rules of the his match to win the Hogwarts Trophy, but Harry had already tuned him out.

Instead, he focused within, settling deeply into his mind as he practiced his Occlumency. He had a feeling that he had to be a lot better at it next year.

* * * * *

Harry was last in line as preference of order was given to those higher on the list. Headmaster Snape was already gone, presumably watching the match from the seats that were invisible to the participants. At the front, Moody would open the door for the next participant and then close it behind them. Harry assumed that they would each end up at a specific location whenever the door opened for them.

Seventh in line, Cedric turned around and made eye contact with Harry. That impish grin ghosted onto his face for a second as he winked at him before vanishing through the door. Harry could only hope that the Hufflepuff would follow through with his request though he had no doubts that others could fill it as well.

One by one, the top twenty students of Hogwarts Battle School entered the Room of Requirement, facing the scenario within. Harry could only watch as they entered that unique room, wondering what sort of nightmare Snape had envisioned in his mind this time. Harry, though, was relaxed, not even bothering to unsheath his wand like everyone else. At last, it was his time to enter the room.

Moody clasped him tightly by the shoulder, awaiting some sort of requisite time until he allowed Harry to enter.

"Are you ready, boy?" Moody gruffly asked.

"I am."

Moody yanked the door open and shoved Harry inside. He stumbled, his feet tripping on some sort of invisible barrier as he entered the room.

It was dark and for a moment, Harry thought they were back within that subterranean scenario that was deployed when the Slytherins fought the Gryffindors. Then, he looked up and saw the stars. They were brilliantly arranged against the sky, constellations of all sorts with the dusty ring of the moon and the far off haze of distant galaxies visible in the cloudless landscape.

Below the constellations, Harry stood on a plain, flat ground, devoid of any of the usual obstacles generally constructed within the Room of Requirement. Turning to each side, Harry found that the plains stretched on to the East, West, and South. To the North was a solitary hill. Harry purposefully walked towards it, his wand calmly at his side and a content but determined expression on his face.

As he crested the hill, he could hear fighting in the distance but took no precaution to hide himself nor did he make any attempt to gravitate towards the sound of fighting. In truth, there were no strategic moves being made at all. At the top of the hill, Harry paused, noticing the odd layout as the hill flattened.

There were no inscriptions, but there was definitely an uncanny liking to a cemetery. Stone wedges were arranged haphazardly, organized in a random grid that was off putting. As Harry walked around, he realized that Snape would want the final duel here. So Harry looked to the stars, wondering where exactly Snape and the rest of Hogwarts were watching. Could they see him gazing upwards to the heavens? His wand twirling in his hand, Harry looked down at it, convincing himself that this was the right thing to do.

"Bloody hell, you really are going to do it."

Harry took his time turning around, recognizing the voice instantly. Cedric Diggory stood behind him, already breathing heavily with his sleeve torn on one arm. His wand was down, not raised in proper fashion for a duel.

"Good to see you made it this far," Harry joked.

"Ran into Penelope Clearwater. Those Ravenclaws can be a nuisance," Cedric said.

"Indeed."

It was an odd conversation to have in the middle of the match that would determine the winner of the Hogwarts Trophy. Harry heard more spells snapping off in the distance, but this time it was closer. Knowing he didn't have a lot of time left, Harry raised his wand slightly. Cedric mirrored his motion, but there wasn't a lot of intent behind casting a spell.

"Are you sure about this?" Cedric asked once more.

Harry nodded. "I'm sure."

Cedric looked like he wanted to say something to protest, but he quickly shut his mouth. Instead, he said, "Next year, I hope we meet again so I can see if you really are The Bringer of Lightning."

A tiny smile crept onto Harry's lips. "I imagine this won't be the last time we see each other."

Cedric nodded, accepting his answer.

Looking towards the skies once more, Harry made a point to look around, knowing that the eyes of the whole school would be upon him. Then, in one smooth motion, Harry threw his wand towards Cedric, watching it tumble end over end towards the older Hufflepuff. Cedric caught it deftly, balancing it in his hand as if he didn't quite believe this was actually happening.

Two can play this game, Snape.

Pocketing the wand, Cedric smiled at him. "Next time, Harry."

"Next time."

"Stupefy!"

* * * * * *

Blaise was the most upset by Harry's voluntary forfeit. He claimed that Harry should have at least informed him so he could fix the bets. Still, he couldn't complain too much. He ended up making a profit since an unusual amount of people had placed cheeky bets on Harry winning.

It was certainly a shock amongst the rest of the students though. Never before had a student willingly refused to participate in a match as public as the Hogwarts Trophy. Of course, there were rumors of various sorts ranging from a purposeful racket between Harry and Blaise to Harry being a farce and not actually able to perform against better wizards than he. Harry purposefully didn't answer any questions, letting the rumors settle and fester until it was so distorted that it became a legend of its own.

If Snape was angry about Harry's unwillingness to fight, he didn't show it. There was no punishment for refusing to fight after all. The headmaster made no attempt to contact Harry either. Still, Harry counted it as a win for himself as Snape had undoubtedly wanted to test Harry's abilities against older students. By refusing to fight, Harry had at least sent Snape a message that would not be forgotten soon.

Indeed, the rest of the year came to a close without major incident. Harry plummeted down the Master List, but that was fine by him. In the end, Granger finished above him and he saw no shame in that though the rest of the Slytherins were unhappy with the Gryffindor sweep in the House cup and her highest placement in their year. However, he knew the true measure of his talents. All too soon, they were packing their dormitories, preparing to leave for the summer. Harry had still not spoken to Granger since the night at the cave and she had made no inclinations to contact him either.

As they proceeded down the cobble road towards the Hogwarts Express, Harry chanced one more look back, dreading the return to Number Four Privet Drive. The peak towers of Hogwarts stood out against the azure sky, standing resplendent on a beautiful day. Outside the Entrance Hall door, a solitary figure watched the students descend the winding path. Harry couldn't see the particular details from a distance, but he knew it was Snape. The headmaster had been his usual taciturn self during his end of year speech as well as his general activities, but every time they made eye contact, Harry felt a twinge of anger that certainly didn't belong to himself.

"Come on, Harry," Tracey said, stopping against the flow of the crowd with him.

"Right there with you," Harry said as he grabbed the handle of his trunk and continued down the path.

They filed within the Hogwarts Express and Blaise quickly staked out a compartment, paying a group of First Years a few Galleons for their troubles. He quickly occupied one of the benches, kicking up his feet. Harry took a seat next to Tracey, settling down in the space closest to the window.

As the train churned to life, Harry's stomach turned as he knew each minute would bring him closer to Number Four. Yet, his face was blank as he kept his thoughts to himself. The compartment was uncannily quiet and even Blaise was busy tabulating the year's results in his ledger. Tracey, too, looked out the window with an unhappy expression.

"Are you okay?" Harry quietly asked her.

"Of course," Tracey said, but Harry didn't miss the way she unconsciously rubbed her neck.

Leaning closer, Harry asked again. "Really, Tracey, are you okay?"

She looked at him and now that she was looking at him and not down at the ground, he could see the tired lines along her face. Tracey usually looked well made, her hair perfectly in place while the makeup on her face complimented her features well. Today, she had still put in the effort to look pleasant, but there were slight cracks like the bags under her eyes or blemishes across her face that were usually unseen.

"If you hadn't found me, Harry, I'd be dead."

"But we did find you."

"But what if you didn't. There wasn't anything special about it. After a while, I just couldn't breathe and the whole turned dark and then I came to and you were there. Do you know what that feels like?"

"No," Harry answered honestly.

"It feels...terrifying."

Tracey stopped, the train bumping along the tracks as she swayed from a slight jolt. She was fighting back tears as Harry realized that this was probably the first time she got to talk about that night. Whether it was Harry or Blaise's reluctance to broach the issue or her own reclusiveness, they had yet to converse about her near death experience.

"It was my fault," Harry said.

Tracey rolled her eyes, wiping away the tears that had collected there. "You don't even mean that and you know it. You know just as well as I do that there was nothing you could do to stop Justin."

Harry shrugged. "I know, but it felt like the right thing to say."

She laughed through her tears. "At least you're learning."

As she dabbed at her tears with the back of her handf, Harry looked down at his knees, not meeting her eyes as he spoke.

"You're one of my only friends, Tracey. I wouldn't have stopped until I found you."

Tracey smiled and she still looked beautiful even as a tear rolled down her cheek. "And here I thought you weren't capable of being emotional."

"This is hardly emotional."

"Right, Harry."

She leaned back, looking away from the window as her hand went to her neck again, rubbing it softly.

"You can lean on me if you're feeling tired. I know it's hard to sleep on these benches," Harry offered.

Tracey paused, her face carefully confused. As she processed the request, she smiled in a sad sort of way. She scooted closer to him and leaned her head against his shoulder. His arm automatically went around her as she snuggled against his side. The close contact was uncomfortable for Harry, but he swallowed that feeling down, knowing she needed the comfort more than he felt uncomfortable by it.

After a few minutes, she had fallen asleep, her head lolling every now and then from the sway of the train. Blaise, so absorbed in his numbers, looked up once and saw Tracey's head on his shoulder. His mouth automatically quirked into a smirk and it opened as he gleefully saw an opportunity. Harry immediately silenced him with a death glare, threatening him with just one look. Blaise still had a wide grin on his face as he stared at the both of them but at least he shut his mouth. The dark Slytherin made a camera motion with his hands as he stared at them and Harry just rolled his eyes at his constant ribbing.

Eventually, a cramp formed in his arm and Harry gently nudged Tracey awake. Standing from the seat, Harry laid her head down and produced a pillow made out of his jacket for her to sleep on. Harry surmised that she must have not been sleeping well judging by her lack of responsiveness. Threatening Blaise to stay quiet via a series of hand gestures, Harry exited the compartment to stretch his legs.

Walking towards the rear of the train, Harry looked into the compartments every now and then, seeing the score of different students. Some compartments were fuller than others and all were in various states. Some students were engaged in games like Exploding Snap and others were eating various food from the cart. There was a wide variety of reactions to returning home, but Harry didn't see anyone who actually feared going home.

Near the back of the train, Harry spotted a compartment that only had one resident. He pursed his lips when he saw who it was and opened the door without knocking. The lone denizen of the compartment looked up from her project as he entered.

"Hello," Luna Lovegood said in her ethereal voice.

"Hi Luna. Why are you sitting by yourself?"

"No one wanted to sit with me," she said matter of factly.

Biting down the anger, Harry proposed, "Why don't you come sit with us then? It's just Blaise and Tracey in there."

"No, thank you," she politely declined. "Then I wouldn't have room for my little project."

She indeed had a table set up in the middle of the compartment and a lonely device in the middle of it.

"What exactly is it?" Harry asked as he took a seat across from her, staring at the strange object on the table.

"Grab it."

Tentatively, he reached out to grab the cylindrical tube. It was made out of a smooth metal and was cool to the touch.

"Uh, what do I do with it?"

"Look through it, silly," she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Harry held it up to his eye and realized that there was indeed a seeing glass. Raising it to his eye, he pointed at the wall and jerked back when he realized that he could see a glow of blue around Luna. Leaning forward and pressing his eye against the circular glass again, Harry could actually see through the wall and spot four other glowing blue hues that resembled human bodies.

"What is this?!"

"It's a magical sensor. It can see wizards and witches through walls. I created it by Transfiguring the glass to sense magical detection and then used a Charm so that it could be used through walls. I haven't perfected it and there are certain limitations, mostly due to distance that I haven't quite figured out, but I feel it would be useful," Luna explained in what was her most normal voice to date.

"That's amazing, Luna," Harry honestly said.

"It's really nothing. I heard of a student in France that created a a long range delivery option that could send spells over long distances."

"Still," Harry commented as he placed the tube down on the table, "It's quite a feat."

"It's not as good as creating a spell, but we're all special in our own different ways."

Again, her uncanny ability to decipher situations surprised Harry.

"You're pretty good at this sort of stuff. I remember the snow castle you made a few months ago."

"We all have our talents. Some of us are just more gifted than others."

"That doesn't give people an excuse to treat you the way they do."

"They just don't understand," Luna rebutted. "But you don't need to worry about me, Harry. I imagine you have a lot more things to worry about other than a little Ravenclaw that creates a magical detector so that it's easier to hide from Marietta."

"You don't need to hide from her." Harry had a bone to pick with that aggraivating Ravenclaw.

"We all fight our own battles in our own ways. You can't fight everyone's, Harry."

"Maybe."

She chuckled as if that was quite amusing for her. Then she grabbed the tube and turned to look outside the compartment.

"What do you see?" Harry asked.

"I do believe that Hermione Granger is standing on the railing outside of the train," Luna answered.

"You can see that?!"

"No. I saw her walk by earlier."

Harry didn't think he would ever understand Luna, but he would be damned if people kept picking on her. He made a mental note to make that one of his several projects next year. Bidding Luna a good summer, Harry exited her compartment and indeed saw a mass of bushy hair through the window in the door that led to the emergency exit of the train. Granger was standing outside, leaning against the railing as her hair flapped in the wind.

Opening the door as to not frighten her, Harry made his presence known with a knock. Granger turned around, looking at him in surprise before shifting to the side to make room for him. Taking that as an invitation, Harry joined her on the railing as they watched the train speed across a bridge. Below them was a body of water that hurtled by so fast that it was just a blue blur.

"Amazing that we're wizards, but we still have to take a train to get to and from school," Granger remarked.

"Can't have us Apparating at the age of eleven and splinching ourselves. Can you imagine it?"

"I'd imagine we could manage it."

Her confidence certainly hadn't faded over time. A silence fell over them as the wind whipped around the train, engulfing them in a small tornado that made Harry squint his eyes as the Scottish hills rolled by. His own unruly hair was wildly thrashing about, caught in the maelstrom between them.

"How have you been?" Granger rather inanely asked.

"I could be better. This is always my least favorite time of the year."

"For a number of reasons, I'm sure."

She left him an opening to continue, but he didn't take it. As the train curved around a bend, Harry gripped the railing tightly, holding his tenuous position. Granger only lightly held the post for a second, using her momentum to pull against the vector.

"Are you okay?" Harry suddenly asked, realizing that he had been asking that question a lot lately.

"No," Granger casually answered. "I don't think I'm okay at all."

In moments like this, Harry wished he was better with words or had the natural wit of Blaise to defuse the tension. What else was he supposed to say besides the customary apology? Like Tracey, Harry had avoided talking about the subject of her parents despite the fact that he had innate knowledge on the circumstances surrounding their death. For Granger to witness such a thing would be awful to anyone but to have it happen to both parents without any other siblings would change the course of her life forever.

"Who are you going to be staying with?" Harry opted to stay with facts instead of trying to console her. He felt that it would comfort her.

"My aunt. It's not a big family. Both of my parents only had one sibling and the other one's in Australia, so that's not exactly practical. I never had godparents, so according to the will, my aunt was designated to be my primary caretaker. Mind you, she doesn't know about magic, so she thinks she's just picking me up from boarding school at King's Cross. McGonagall said she would visit as soon as I settled in to tell them about it."

It was insult to injury, shipping Granger off to live with Muggles who knew nothing about magic. It was naturally easy for Muggle parents to accept their own child. After all, the familial bonds easily stretched to accommodate far worse circumstances than a magical child. Harry wondered how a close relative would take the news. He hoped they wouldn't be anything like the Dursleys.

"Can't be worse than my relatives," Harry said, echoing his own thoughts.

"No, I guess they wouldn't," she said without looking at him.

It was a helpless feeling, being unable to help or console her. Harry suspected that she was dreading this leave of Hogwarts as much as he was. At Hogwarts, there were always constant distractions, though some of them were far more dangerous than others. There were always studies or matches or conspiring students or even run of the mill gossip. This train ride was torturously long and allowed for that weight to finally come crashing down.

"He didn't do it you know," Harry suddenly said. "At least, not what you think he did."

"Who?" She finally perked up.

"Vernon. He's still evil and he did - he did so many things, but not that. Not what you were trying to imply," Harry quickly spilled the words.

She swayed, the train buckling as it rode over a hill. Harry looked up to meet her brown eyes and found himself being pulled it to that chocolate pool. She wasn't conventionally pretty. Her face was round, the baby fat retained in her cheeks, and her hair did nothing to help her. She almost never wore makeup, thus not drawing any special attention to her face. But her eyes were a medley of emotions, a whirlpool that he could easily fall into and when she smiled, the sun became a little brighter and the wind whipped around singing a merry tune, but it was only for a moment. Then, her mask would slip on again and the world returned to normal order.

"Thank you," she finally said. "I know that must have been hard for you."

Strangely enough, it wasn't that hard for Harry.

"Just trying to find a bright side to all this," he said.

"Maybe there is no bright side," Granger offered. "Maybe this is all there is to it."

Harry couldn't help but let out a small chuckle and he was rewarded with a deathly glare from Granger. Still, he smiled at her, an incredulous feeling of happiness washing over him. To hear Granger declare such morbid terms was nothing more than a summary of their whole year. Despite all the seriousness, they were still taking the same train away from Hogwarts, rolling away from the countryside.

"It's not funny," Granger insisted. "You could have killed Finch-Fletchley."

Harry quickly sobered up, not realizing she would quickly pivot to this discussion.

"Yet I didn't."

"It wasn't that you did or didn't kill him. It was everything before. What was that, Harry?" Granger demanded, venting off a little steam.

Harry shrugged, leaning back against the railing and looking at the sun sitting just above the horizon.

"I did what needed to be done."

"Maybe you did. Maybe he deserved it. Maybe the right thing to do would have been to kill him so he doesn't ever do something like that to Tracey or you or anyone else again. But you did it so easily, Harry. You didn't even struggle with it. It can't be that easy."

The scary part was that it was that easy for him. He didn't have second thoughts about it in the moment and he hadn't even really thought about it until now. It felt good to hold Justin down, feeling his life drain from him, but he didn't relay to her.

"I don't think you understood the extent of what he did."

"Oh, I understood it perfectly. I can even understand how you were feeling in the moment. What I don't understand is how intense you were about it. The look in your eyes, Harry..."

She was stopping short of direct accusations, but her tone rankled Harry. He crossed his arms, his hair billowing in the same direction as hers as the train buckled over a bumpy path. Granger was still leaning forward against the railing so they were facing opposite directions, one looking out towards the horizon while the other looked inwards towards the train.

"Have you ever thought about doing something bad? Not really evil. Nothing sadistic. Haven't you ever felt that urge to just do something about it? Then, you're thinking to yourself that this isn't what I should do. I shouldn't even think about killing him, but it pops up in your head again. You try not to think about it, but you can see him dying in your mind and you imagine that they do deserve it. You're the hero and they're the villain. You have the justification. You have a legitimate reason for doing this. Then, once again, you remind yourself that this is a bad idea. But you're not thinking logically and you just let the darkness take over. Just for one second so you don't have to spend so much time holding it at bay. In that moment, you feel free! You feel right! You feel like you don't have to hide so much! It's a monster in your chest that just breaks free of its chains and for one fleeting moment you can let it roar and hear the echo bouncing off every mountain top! Then, you bring it back and close the lid tight on top...and you do what's right. Haven't you ever felt that way?"

She didn't speak for a moment, letting the sound carry away his proclamations and confessions. Her eyes were lost in the distance, trying to judge something that wasn't there. Every now and then, Harry would see a student walking through the train but no one ever ventured towards the caboose.

"Yes."

Harry let the silence marinate over them, taking comfort that he wasn't insane. Other people did feel that way. Yet, while he was basking in the dying sunlight, Granger seemed to be even more disturbed.

"I don't want to go home, Harry."

"Me neither, Hermione."

The mask finally slipped as she let a solitary tear fall down her cheek. Months and months of ignoring the problem and trying to stave off the emptiness was finally catching up to her and while the wind did its best to try and carry it all the way, it didn't catch all of her tears. She leaned over the raining, a choked sob escaping her.

Harry reached out his hand but paused it in midair. He wanted to do something to comfort her, but he felt as if it the lightest touch would break her apart. She was so small and fragile in this moment, an incredible contrast from the rigid logicality that usually defined her. He almost felt as if he were intruding, witnessing such a rarity that he looked away and retracted his hand.

"What a sad sack I am," she said.

"You have good reason."

Her sniffles died down until the tears were dry on her face and she settled into that blank veneer. If she was surprised at how easy it was for him to torture Justin, he was just as surprised to find her so quickly back to her version of normalcy.

"Thank you for everything you've taught me," Harry said.

She snorted, showing another unusual side of her. "Only you would think I've taught you something."

"You have. If it weren't for you, I'd be pants at Occlumency and Legilimency," Harry insisted.

"You would have learned it eventually." Hermione waved away his concerns as she dabbed away a loose tear. "I liked what you did by the way."

"For what?"

"The Hogwarts Trophy. Everyone called you a coward, but I known better than to think of you as a coward. It was for Snape, wasn't it?"

"Right as always."

"And has he said anything?"

"Not a word."

"That's almost scarier than him actually doing something."

Harry turned around so he was leaning his forearms on the railing. "I think it's time to start challenging him. I don't like playing his games anymore."

"If you need help, I'm right there with you."

Hermione was serious, that determined intensity returning to her previously watershed eyes. This was the Hermione that he would remember, holding such a strident belief that if Harry looked deeply into her eyes, he saw why she was sometimes dubbed the smartest witch of their generation. She would tear down the world to prove a point.

The sun disappeared over the horizon, such was the extent they had stayed out on that back ledge of the train. Most of it was dominated by silence and punctuated by grazing moments of important conversations. There were still so many things left unsaid, but Harry undeniably felt a connection towards this Gryffindor.

"You have a good summer, Harry. I think we're getting close," she said as the bright lights of the city glowed in the near distance.

"Take care...Hermione."

She smirked at him one last time and disappeared into the train.

They reached King's Crossing and bid their goodbyes. Blaise shook Harry's hand formally in mock politeness in front of his mother and told him that he would write. Harry had read Blaise's letters. It often contained nothing more than detailed notes of the many people he procured money from. Tracey unexpectedly leaned in and kissed him on the cheek in front of her dad. While Harry was embarrassed and,not for the first time wished that Blaise was mute, he couldn't deny that he enjoyed it. She promised to write him as well and the contents of her letters would no doubt be more than just endless self promotion.

Harry watched Tracey disappear through the barrier and held his breath, knowing it was time to face the music. As he emerged on the other side, Harry's hopes died as he saw a large mass of a human being waiting at Platform 9 ¾ for him. Slowly making his way over, his trunk in tow, Harry braced himself for another long summer.

He was then surprised to see a whirling dervish of bushy hair appear in front of him.

"Hello, I'm Hermione," she extended her hand to a befuddled Vernon.

"Er, hello?" Vernon ended up asking.

"I go to school with Harry," she emphasized, "but my parents are dentists. They're very rich and have a lot of friends in the community."

"That's very nice girl." Vernon tried to brush her aside, his mustache twitching in annoyance.

"A lot of constables."

His beefy hand froze in mid air as his beady eyes focused on Hermione's brown pools. Vernon licked his lips uncertainty, not knowing what kind of game Hermione was playing at while Harry stifled a laugh.

"Number Four Privet Drive, right Harry?" She turned around to address him, her face twisted in mock quizzicality.

"True," Harry answered.

"That's not too far. Perhaps a visit is in order?"

"Perhaps," Vernon said slowly, struggling to deal with her.

Harry would have laughed if it wasn't for the fact that she had invoked her dead parent's name to defend her. Whatever the case may be, Hermione was undoubtedly on his side.

"Well then. Have a good summer, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed in false chirpiness.

As she left Vernon befuddled and confused on the platform of King's Cross, Harry reasoned that it might not be such a long summer after all.

* * * * *

"I guess things didn't really go as planned."

"Plans are what they are. It's just a projection of things to happen."

"And what happens when your plan starts fighting back?"

"He is not fighting. He is testing, trying to see what he can get away with. He has no idea the true extent of what is transpiring."

"I must confess that I do not think it is working."

"He has grown stronger, has he not? Learned Occlumency and Legilimency far ahead of schedule. Created a spell from sheer anger. Showed the fortitude to act outside of the boundaries of limiting morality. Accepted every strategical challenge and surpassed expectations."

"He almost killed that boy. He enjoyed torturing him."

"He did not enjoy it."

"How would you know? You're not in his head anymore."

"He did what he needed to be done."

"He took it too far."

"Please spare me your pathetic musings on the extent of action."

"You are not listening. This path has been travelled before."

"Do you not think -"

"YOU ARE NOT LISTENING!"

"Then enlighten me."

"Tell me if you've heard this story before. There was once a practical orphan who lived in an abusive and damaged environment. He grew up hard and cold, distrustful of everyone around him. Upon entrance into Hogwarts, he was hailed as one of the most promising wizards of his generation, potential falling off him in waves. He accomplished tasks far ahead of schedule, easily bypassing most in his year. He was very charismatic, gaining a loyal band of followers that would do anything for him. Tell me, have you heard this story before?"

"What is your point?"

"My point is that you're losing him."

"I am not even close to -"

"He is growing up! Surely you can't be as short sighted as me. He is the beast trying to break from the chains and who do you think he is going to come after when he realizes who put him in the chains in the first place?"

"Then I will deal with that problem when it arises. It is folly to worry about what happens if we fail. If we fail, then that's it. The work of more than a decade will fall apart if this does not succeed, so I don't plan on planning for failure. This path only goes one way."

"And if this path creates the monster we are striving to defeat, then what have we done?"

"You know the safeguards as well as I do. Why are you protesting this?"

"I - I - I fear the future."

"You shouldn't."

"It is much easier to stay calm when I can see the paths before me, but stepping into the unknown carries the danger of falling into it."

"You worry too much about things that might not happen."

"And you don't worry enough about things that could happen."

"We control what we can and as long as I have the ability to shape what happens, then I will continue to act in a capacity that is for the best."

"For the best."

"I don't think you're in a position to mock me about doing what's best."

"There is more than enough blame to pass around for what we have done. It is a one way path as you say, but the path is far more treacherous as each day passes."

"We all knew this would not be easy, especially in his later years."

"I do believe that time is upon us."

"We have some time to plan before then. Have you heard from the other schools?"

"I have. They have preliminarily agreed to the changes for the tournament."

"And you had no trouble convincing Maxime and Karkaroff?"

"They were both hesitant on the idea at first, but I eventually persuaded them to see otherwise."

"Excellent. It will be beneficial to have a Trischool Tournament. It will give the boy a wide array of challenges next year."

"Agreed in this instance."

"And Riddle?"

"He has uncharacteristically gone dark."

"Nothing at all?"

"I know how he is. To fall off the face of the Earth like this is most unusual for him. I admit that it unnerves me more than I care to say."

"You are certain of this?"

"The Riddle I know would not disappear like this and yet he has."

"But the boy is safe at the location?"

"Safe isn't the best word I would use for his predicament, but yes, Riddle will not find him for now."

"Then we must act quickly. As you say, plans are malleable after all."

"And what do you project?"

"That the Dark Lord will return and when the time comes, we will see if our plans are of any worth."

"And if they are not?"

"Then I will see you in hell."

* * * * * *

A/N: And that is Third Year!

As I've stated earlier, I will be continuing this story under the same name for Fourth Year. Obviously I've dropped a couple hints for what will transpire and I truly believe it will be a great year to write. There will be two interludes, but I must admit that it will take some time (not too long) until the first chapter of Fourth Year comes out. I will be taking some time to write a few chapters ahead and also to focus on my original work. Don't worry, this is not abandoned or on hiatus as I have the whole outline for Fourth Year already written. If you have any lingering questions about Third Year, please ask in a review or message me directly! I'll do my best to answer them all.

Lastly, thank you so much for all of your reviews. I love reading them and I read each and everyone of them, so don't feel left out if I don't respond to you directly. Just know that I take them all to heart and I hope that you've enjoyed this story so far and if you didn't enjoy it, at least appraised it enough to give it a decent read. Thank you again and let me know what you thought of this Third Year as a whole!

Projected update time: Before August

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