Unofficial Portkey Archive

A/N: Thanks to my beta, Bexis.

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The sky was black and hopeless. Stars were drowning in an empty abyss. A deep rumbling sounded, almost as if it originated from within Harry's chest. It came from below - below the dungeons, below the lake, from somewhere deep and dark. A hiss and the earth cracked opened. The very foundations of Hogwarts split apart. Harry watched it all from the ice island in the middle of the Great Lake.

He was not alone.

Harry turned to find a young man with long, dark hair. He had an air of familiarity about him. Harry had seen his face somewhere before.

"Who are you?" Harry asked.

The stranger did not answer. The ice was starting to split apart, each crack hissing and revealing the murky water beneath. Harry stood firm and extended his hand to the stranger, trying to help him.

Suddenly, his scar burned.

Harry fell to his knees, the water churning below him. The stranger was unmoved, watching Hogwarts disintegrate. The water itself seemed to reach up and grab Harry, steadily pulling him down and dragging him underneath.

"Help!" Harry cried.

The stranger turned to look at Harry blankly. A mirage surrounded his face, obscuring the stranger's identity. He looked at Harry and mouthed something. Harry kicked against the water, trying to escape its icy grasp.

"Help me!"

At last, the stranger turned and knelt down. His hand reached for Harry. Fighting the lake, Harry lunged forward and clutched the stranger's hand. He screamed. It was scalding hot, but the stranger did not let go. Harry's flesh was burning, his scar tingling and his nerves scorching. He could not decide between the icy water and the burning hand. The stranger's mouth moved.

"Wake up, Potter."

Gasping, Harry sat up. Beads of sweat covered his head. His back was soaked and his arms were clammy. It was dark, but not the overwhelming darkness of his dream. This darkness was different, a safe and familiar darkness. Harry laid back down, his heart still hammering in his chest. Lifting his hand, Harry found his scar red hot to the touch and still tingling.

"Mr. Potter?" Madame Pomfrey pulled back the curtains around his bed and squinted down at him. "Is everything alright?"

"What day is it?" Harry asked. He had a bad habit of passing out for long periods after using extensive magic.

"The same day that you started. For once, you are not the most seriously injured student here. That distinction goes to Viktor Krum. I had to struggle with Karkaroff to keep him here. That oaf insisted on bringing in their specialists. The nerve of that man! I have been treating students here for twenty years. I know how to handle pneumonia and a pulmonary edema."

Pomfrey sat down at Harry's bedside, waving her wand to perform a few routine diagnostic spells. Dressed in her white medical robes, her hair pulled back in a tight bun, she had a distinct tightness to her face. Harry didn't know how old the mediwitch was, but she looked quite old in the dim light of the night.

"I'm fine. Just had a bad dream is all," Harry said.

She left him alone to contemplate his dreams and his mind. Try as he might, Harry was unable to fall back to sleep. Standing up, he found that his body did not have the residual effects he usually associated with magical exhaustion. Pomfrey would give him hell for it, but Harry gathered his belongings and left the Hospital Wing. The hallways were dark save for the few torches. His shadow stretched long across the ground. Every step brought him deeper into Hogwarts until he returned to the Slytherin Common Room.

When he returned to his dormitory, Harry paused at the bed closest to the door. The curtains were already drawn and Harry could see a shape inside. He remained there for a few seconds, his mind trying to process why someone was in his bed.

"Draco took the bed by the door. We thought it was appropriate. Lumos."

Harry snapped his head to the side, and saw Blaise. He was seated cross legged on his bed, his wandtip brightly lit. Harry could barely see his face in the glare, but he knew the boy by his shape and his size, and the grim expression on his face. Harry remained rooted to the spot until he finally remembered the events of the previous morning.

"Right. I forgot."

Harry found the drapes pulled back from the bed next to Goyle. His belongings were already rearranged, no doubt by the House Elves. He laid down and drew his curtains, ignoring Blaise. Flat on his back, Harry stared at the ceiling, not bothering to take off his glasses. His mind was buzzing. He could barely form a thought. He just felt numb and tired...ever so tired.

As sleep continued to elude him, his thoughts turned to the Second Task. Surely, Cedric would have returned with all of the VIP's before Karim could catch him. Then again, Cedric was hauling a whole horde of floating bodies while Tireur only had to carry his contraption.

That Tireur was the sniper did not completely surprise Harry. He had felt a power from Tireur the moment he met him. Still, his complex transfiguration had been beyond anything Harry had seen at Hogwarts or even from McGonagall. Krum's was no less impressive. Transfiguration, as a whole, was not emphasized at Hogwarts, since it didn't have much use in duels. It had some benefits, but it was never the main thrust of an attack. But in skilled hands like Krum and Tireur...What Harry had seen during the Second Task had changed Harry's perceptions.

Durmstrang and Beauxbatons might have not been as well trained in combat techniques, but they were clearly taught other advanced types of magic. That other magical schools were equal to Hogwarts was a notion that Harry had never considered. Hogwarts had always been his home. The time spent at the Dursleys was a temporary prison or punishment until September returned and he could again board the Hogwarts Express. Yet, there were other schools. There were other places. There were other futures.

Trow and Lupin continually emphasized the importance of learning how to fight future Dark Lords, but where was the proof that such a Dark Lord would even arise? They had him learning of the history of these Dark Lords, but to what end? Why was Snape so insistent on punishing him at every turn? Harry enjoyed the challenges. He could not deny that. He also could not deny the overwhelming feeling of unfairness. What had he done to deserve such treatment?

The sun rose and only then did Harry return to a restless slumber.

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"Where is he?"

The question passed amongst the fourth year Slytherins as they waited for Battle class to commence. They had only five more minutes until Snape arrived and Harry Potter was nowhere in sight. He had not appeared in any of their other classes, so chances of him arriving on time for Battle class was slim.

Tracey paced between two corridors, monitoring both of any sign of Harry. She craned neck, trying to will Harry's appearance. No one came down the corridor.

"Are you sure he wasn't in the dormitory?" Tracey asked Blaise for the fourth time.

"I checked after Transfigurations and Charms. He wasn't there. We checked Trow's classroom and he wasn't on the Omnioculars. We checked outside. We checked the library. We checked everywhere," Blaise answered.

Not everywhere. Blaise had of course neglected to mention the cave. If Harry were anywhere, that was it, but Tracey couldn't find Granger either. She frowned at the thought of those two together in the cave all day, but others had told her that they had seen Granger in classes. Blaise's sources had her retiring to Gryffindor tower after classes.

Where are you, Harry?

Hufflepuff was today's Battle class opponent. It should have been an easy test for Draco's first day as Commander. The blond had retained the moniker and asked them to address him as such. Draco's initial commands had been quiet but firm. He was a far cry from Harry's militant style.

Still, without Harry they were considerably weaker. Whatever anyone thought of him, all recognized his talent and power. Their coup had been a rejection of Harry's leadership, but without his skills, the Slytherin team was a shadow of its former self.

"Figures he would leave us. If Potter doesn't get to order us around, guess he doesn't want any part of it. What a wanker," Nott snarled as he stared at the Hufflepuffs.

Tracey grit her teeth and ignored the comment. It was their fault they were in this position anyway. Harry was always their best chance of winning, and now they had flushed it away. She wasn't blind to the problems Harry was having, but she could never forgive Blaise for the mutiny. He had betrayed Harry. He had betrayed her.

Draco being leader was in direct contradiction of what Tracey wanted. She wanted Harry to resume his rightful place as leader of the fourth year Slytherin team. She wanted Harry to feel good about winning again. She wanted…

What she wanted was now in question. She could not sabotage Draco. She did not want Draco to lose their battles. She wanted Draco to succeed. How was she supposed to reconcile these two different ideas?

If Harry shows up and helps, then Draco will win. I can live with that.

Except Harry was still missing and only a minute remained until Snape arrived. The headmaster was never late and he would undoubtedly start without Harry. Tracey checked the other corridor again. Still no Harry.

"Give it up, Tracey. He's not coming," Pansy said.

Tracey ignored the girl. She continued to stare down the corridor, trying to envision Harry. He would walk slightly slumped, his head tucked into his chest. That was how he was when no one was watching, so that was how he would appear if she first saw him. Then, as he approached, Harry would stand straighter. A fire would light in his emerald eyes. But recently Tracey noticed that the fire in his eyes was absent.

"Come on." Draco laid a hand on her shoulder and turned Tracey around. She met his cold, silver eyes. "We have to start planning the battle without him."

Snape arrived precisely on time. His robes billowed behind him and he looked down his hooked nose at all of them. His black eyes passed over the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs and he paused ever so slightly as he counted the Slytherins. Tracey avoided his gaze and hoped to Merlin that Snape would somehow delay this class.

"Slytherins first," Snape ordered.

Tracey cursed silently and fell in line behind Draco.

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Deep within the cave, Harry sat cross legged at the edge of the small pond. He stared at the water. Eventually, he extended his right palm outwards. He levitated a ball of water, concentrating on the weightlessness of the object. He moved the first ball slightly to the left and then raised another one. He added a third, feeling the strain of magic as his concentration began wavering. Small drops of water fell from the cohesive spheres as he struggled to maintain the different spells. Harry could only raise the fifth ball of water before it fell apart.

"I'm doing this wrong," Harry muttered.

Harry had understood the general concepts of magical power for a long time. He wasn't as quantitative as Hermione's approach always was, but generally understood one could only perform a given amount of magic depending on one's innate power. Flamel's class reinforced and expanded this belief. Based on his experiences, Harry surmised that wandless magic drained this magical energy fastest. That conclusion was simple, as even the easiest spells, save for Fulminare, were far more difficult to perform wandlessly.

"That means that several different levitation spells would be harder than one levitation spell," Harry said to himself.

Harry held both hands forward. Having a visual cue always helped. This time, he raised a sphere of water the size of a large beach ball. While the object was larger, it only required one spell. The complexity of maintaining several levitation spells far outmatched this ball's greater mass. Harry then focused on casting a simple Divider Charm. It was usually used for household chores, but he specifically used it to cut the big sphere of water into seven smaller spheres.

"Seven's a good number."

The unexpected voice shattered his concentration. The seven watery spheres splashed into the pond as Harry turned around. Hermione moved to his side and stared at the pond with him. She held out her palm and her face squeezed tight in concentration. Harry stared at the pond expectantly and gave her a few moments.

"I think I saw a ripple," Harry offered.

"Quiet. I'll get there," Hermione said.

She withdrew her hand and flicked her wand instead. A slim line of water rose from the pond. It froze into an icicle in mid-air and then flew off and struck the cave's wall. The icicle shattered and Hermione waved her wand again. The particles froze, then enlarged until each of them turned into another icicle - a total of seven. Hermione waved her wand one more time. They turned into drops of water that splattered on the ground.

"Like matter transfiguration. Not impressive," Harry commented.

Hermione arched her eyebrow and flicked her wand again. The drops of water rose from the floor of the cave. Hermione murmured some words and the clear drops of water transformed into hard metal. They shifted shape until seven blades were pointed at Harry. The seven blades floated lazily towards Harry until stopping an arm's length away.

"Do you want to test my transfigurations?" Hermione asked airily.

Harry reached out and tapped one of the hovering blades with his finger. It was plenty sharp.

Hermione let them drop and they returned to water before hitting the ground. She took a seat next to him, dragging her hand idly through the pool. The light of the sun refracted and bent through the lake and then the glass above them. The surreal blue and yellow hue that resulted cast them in different lights. The drip drip of water numbed Harry's brain as they sat in silence.

"Did anyone tell you about the point tally?" Hermione asked.

"No. Did we even end up winning?"

Hermione nodded. "Tireur caught up with Cedric, but Cedric managed to hold him off by hiding behind the VIP's. It forced Tireur to come into a closer range. Cedric would have lost to him if we hadn't shown up. I don't know how much you know, but we managed to take out the rest of the Beauxbatons group while you were off fighting Durmstrang. Still, Tireur got away with some of his VIP's and managed to keep us at bay while he returned them. He's a right headache, that one."

Hermione took a breath from her description.

"Anyway, we managed to rescue ten of our VIP's. Tireur managed to steal one of ours and played hide and seek until time ran out. We missed our bonus, but we're in the lead now. We were awarded one point by all the judges for using the VIP's as shields. Altogether, that puts us at twenty-two points. Tireur got three of the VIP's and he got six points total from the judges. That puts them at twenty-one points. Durmstrang somehow got six points, mostly from Karkaroff. That puts them at last with fifteen points. So for now, we have the lead."

Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Well done."

She nodded her head as her hand continued to push water back and forth in the pond.

"Of course, Karkaroff was none too happy with your encounter with Krum. Claimed that you tried to kill him. That was heavily disputed as everyone understood that you ultimately saved him by summoning two tons of transfigured rock as well as Krum's body. Then, Karkaroff tried to blame you again, saying that you could have killed him with the Summoning Charm. Obviously, you could have killed him far more easily by doing nothing at all. Surprisingly, Snape bit his head off and basically intimated that Krum should be groveling at your feet for saving his life. It was quite odd to witness."

"Snape defended me?"

"I wouldn't go that far. I would say he was looking for an excuse to tear into Karkaroff and this was the perfect opportunity. Regardless, nothing is being done against you by Ludo Bagman or the governing committee. Everyone watched you save him."

"Good. At least I was good for that."

Another slightly uncomfortable silence fell over them. Harry thought that Hermione was brimming with questions and that she was holding herself back. Having lost track of time, he knew that he must have missed multiple classes already. As sunlight was still streaming through the water, it must have been late afternoon. Harry was surprised it took Hermione that long to come down.

"I heard you missed every class today. Tracey found me again and demanded to be let into the cave. Of course, I told her that her problems with you were her business, but I had a feeling she was right."

Tracey was persistent. Harry had to allow her that. He thought that, by skipping Battle class, the message would be clear enough, but she still sought him out. Perhaps Harry hadn't ever taken enough time to really consider his actions, but the longer he thought about it, the more he found that there were very few reasons to stay at Hogwarts.

He loved the battle. He could never deny that. The overwhelming post-victory euphoria was a high that could never be replicated. The satisfaction of a plan well executed drove him to create even more sophisticated battle plans. The anticipation and tension before entering the Room of Requirements put him on an edge that heightened every sense.

But to what end?

"I think I'm going to leave, Hermione."

"You should. A shower would do you wonders."

Harry had to chuckle. "I mean I'm going to leave Hogwarts."

"Oh."

Hermione played with the hem of her robes, tapping her wand and transfiguring it into different materials. The drip drip of the water seemed louder in the silent cave. Harry watched Hermione from the corner of his eye, trying to judge her response. She was staring steadfastly at the small pond, but blinking quickly meaning she was deep in thought. Her lips would quiver when she was on the verge of saying something, but she quickly shut her mouth. No doubt she was rebutting her own arguments in her head.

"After my parents died, Professor McGonagall asked me if I wanted to take the rest of the semester off. I never even considered it. Where else would I go? What else would I do? It just...never crossed my mind."

Harry nodded, understanding her mindset. "I asked myself the same questions. I thought I could fight it out with Snape, but he doesn't seem to care what he throws at me. I don't know what he wants from me, but he doesn't want me here."

Hermione eventually cleared her throat and spoke, but the words sounded false and hollow. She rubbed the back of her neck, her fingers running through the fringes of her short bob. Her hair was slowly starting to regrow, but it was far from the mangy bush she wore before. Harry couldn't tell whether she was trying to convince him to stay or if she was trying to convince herself to try and convince him to stay.

"Where will you go?" Hermione finally asked.

"I've heard of a couple different schools. One in Spain. Another in Italy. I heard of another one in the States; Chambridge, I think it's called. I don't know their enrollment requirements just yet, but I can do well there. At least I'll get a fair shot. There, I'll be treated equally."

"But do you want to be treated equally?"

Harry looked at her curiously. "What do you mean?"

Hermione bit her lip and answered. "Suppose that you were treated equally. Suppose you were treated like everyone else. Wouldn't you get bored? Wouldn't you feel unchallenged? I'm not saying that what Snape is doing is right, but I don't think you can deny that you've been made better by being challenged, whether fairly or not."

It always came back to the same question. "Yes, but to what end?"

Hermione had no answer for that. So they sat side by side at the small pond. Neither had to speak for they already knew how the conversation would proceed. Hermione would extoll the virtues of education and the importance of growing as a wizard. She would no doubt play the guilt card - how Hogwarts needed him for the Third Task. Harry would counter with the depressing course of his fourth year. The constant battles he had to fight within Slytherin were taking its toll. Isolated and alone, Harry would say that his contributions meant little. Why must he constantly be punished?

So they sat in silence until Hermione spoke once more.

"It wouldn't be the same without you, Harry. Whatever you might think, you're going to be a great wizard, someday historically great. You're that good. All of this rubbish, if you can get through it, will seem like child's play when you're done. It's trivial. I know this with as much certainty as I know anything..." Her voice sounding resigned, she finished. "You will be brilliant...if you stay."

Harry wanted to be brilliant. At least, he thought he wanted to be brilliant. At one point, that's all he ever considered. Winning. What would it take to win? Harry knew what it would take. Sacrifice. Ruthlessness. Luck. But why was he trying to win? He could no longer justify that. He could not justify what it would take to beat everyone. What it would cost him. What it would cost them.

"You're right, but maybe it's not worth it to become brilliant."

Hermione obviously disagreed judging by the cross expression on her face, but she held her tongue. It was a great show of restraint for her. She was never afraid to speak her mind, but even she had to see why he had to leave.

"You would waste so much potential if you left. What would have happened if Dumbledore left Hogwarts? What would have happened if Godric Gryffindor decided he didn't want to create a school? I'm not saying that you leaving would be the same, but it would be close. I implore you, Harry. It would be a monumental mistake if you left! I can help you. I know you don't want any help, but I'm not always against you. Whatever Snape is putting you through, there's no reason we can't find a way to beat it."

"Why, Hermione? Why? What is the point of all of it? Have you ever asked yourself that?!"

Hermione pursed her lips indignantly, seemingly affronted that she would not recognize all arguments. "Of course I've asked myself that. It's not one reason. It's not any particular reason. I stay because I want to do well in the future. I stay because I am doing well. I stay because through all of Snape's manipulations, I know that I will find a way to win. I stay because I want to win the tournament. I stay because of the people here. Cedric. Neville and the rest of the Gryffindors...even you."

All good reasons. All logical reasons. Harry wondered if Hermione would ever really understand. The death of her parents had been a great injustice, but she was never put to the test. She sought it out, voraciously devouring every challenge and piece of knowledge like bees drawn to honey, but she was never trapped by the honey. She was never punished for doing well.

Every success Harry had achieved came at a terrible cost. Every success she achieved was rewarded. Would she ever really understand?

"I'm sorry that I have to leave."

Harry wasn't going to try and convince her of his viewpoint. Her pitch was rooted in logic and sensible conclusions. Maybe one day, confronted with what she felt about her parents, she would finally be able to understand him. Maybe one day, she would realize that not all actions could be explained rationally.

Hermione opened her mouth, trying to continue the argument, but Harry put a finger to his lips, signaling silence. She did not like that.

"You don't have to leave," she implored, but even she knew that her plea was useless.

"I might not have to leave, but it would be my choice to leave. For once, it would be my choice. No one else's. No one pulling my strings. No one manipulating what to do."

At that she could not argue.

Of course, she would not give up without a fight. That just wasn't the Hermione Granger that Harry knew - why he chose to tell her in the first place.

"Unless of course that's exactly what Snape wants you to think. Maybe he wants you to think that it's your choice when it is entirely possible that it's not even your choice at all. Maybe he thinks that you will think that it's a choice and is testing your reaction and seeing what choice you make. Maybe…"

Hermione trailed off, realizing the futility of this logic. They cold speculate forever, on circular levels of what Snape thought Harry thought. Harry didn't blame her for trying penetrate the layers of Snape's deception. But the sheer number of those deceptions only gave him more reason to think that leaving was the best option...maybe the only option.

"Come on," Harry said, trying to change the topic. "Let's practice some Occlumency. I have a feeling I'm going to need it in the near future and we haven't practiced in a while."

"How could you not be practicing? I practice every night before I go to sleep. It helps with the dreams." She looked at him pointedly.

Hermione was absent from his dreams recently, but lately he felt himself being drawn to those dreams. His morbid curiosity tried to discover what was in store for him every night. He ignored her jab at his laziness and walked to the table in the cave. He looked wistfully at the three other tables where their project to replicate the Board Room lay stagnant. Hermione was right. A lot of his potential would probably remain untapped if he left here. He ignored that biting feeling of guilt and settled into one of the chairs.

"Try to keep anything concerning Cedric under tight guard. I don't want to stumble into any of those," Harry joked.

"I would say the same with Fleur, but you still haven't told me what happened. It might be that I have to just find out myself."

She would not. Harry was prepared to let other memories undefended, even those with Vernon. She would not see those shameful visions. Harry was sure of that.

Hermione placed her wand on the table and settled across from him, regarding him crossly with her lips pursed tight. She was staring at him intensely and then shook her head. He could practically read her thoughts. What a waste…

"Don't go easy on me," Harry said.

"I never have."

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His belongings were sadly sparse. After discarding the things he needed solely for Hogwarts, Harry found his trunk to be less than half full, mostly with clothes. He left most of his robes behind, save for one pair. Wherever he went, Harry preferred traveling less conspicuously as a Muggle. It was far less conspicuous. If the situation arose, he could always claim that he was a wizard pretending to dress like a Muggle.

He looked around the Slytherin dormitory. His last time felt like the first time. The drapes were absurdly clean. Even in the low light of the winter sun, Harry could see no dust. The House-Elves must have brushed and cleaned them constantly. His area was clean. Blaise's area was nearly spotless. Draco had a few trinkets lying about, but most things were stored in his trunk or in his bed. Goyle's area was littered with dirty clothes and Nott was no better. The House-Elves left those alone.

Draco's bed was now near the doorway whilst Harry's was at the back corner, furthest away. Harry wondered if that was Draco's request. Harry paused at Blaise's bedside, unsure of how he felt about him. Harry would never understand Blaise. His friend was a leaf in the wind, turning in whatever direction wind was blowing strongest. Harry knew that Blaise had some sort of moral compass, only he was not sure which way it pointed.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you're leaving."

The voice came from the doorway, but it's tone was not mocking. Draco looked at Harry's trunk then lifted his eyes to stare Harry in the face. He was dressed in his normal robes, but his hair was unusually disheveled. The blond must have just come from Battle class. He stood taller, somehow. His mien had a new-found confidence, now that he wasn't playing second fiddle to Harry.

"Congratulations. I heard you won your first battle," Harry said without any sarcasm.

"Barely. We would have done better with you." Draco was surprisingly frank.

Harry pursed his lips, wondering why Draco was still standing in the way of his exit. When Harry stepped forward, Draco still didn't move.

"I suppose you'll have to learn more ways to win without me," Harry remarked as Draco remained unmoved.

"For what it's worth, if anyone can do it, I think you can. I've been watching you during Battle class. There's a reason I ranked you higher than Blaise when I started delegating. You've improved. Drastically. I don't know what caused it." Harry had a feeling it was the incarceration of his parents. Grief could be a powerful motivator. "But you have done well...and you'll continue to do well."

Draco was still looking at him strangely like he wasn't hearing Harry's words. The blond finally looked off into the distance and stepped out of the way. Harry took this as a sign to leave and started walking out, his trunk in tow. Draco did not let him leave without having his say in things though.

"You should know how Tracey feels about you. She's been looking for you all day. Even today, she was still defending you."

Harry looked down, feeling shame. "I know how she feels about me."

Draco made an incredulous sound. "And you're still leaving? I thought you...loved her?"

Harry found it a strange question. He also found he had no response. He did love her. He knew he loved her. Even though he was devoid of whatever love was during his childhood, Harry knew without a shadow of a doubt that he loved Tracey. In what way, he did not know.

And he didn't want to find out.

"She'll be fine. I'm not blind. She's gotten closer to you." It hurt to finally admit it, but he felt better once he said it.

Harry turned and saw Draco shake his head. "I'll never understand," the blond said. "I don't think I'm supposed to."

Harry did not wait to see what else Draco would say. He cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and his trunk. It would last long enough to reach the Great Hall. He walked by Nott and Pansy. They were discussing Anthony Goldstein and how much money he could possibly have. He walked by some of the older Slytherins, studying for their end of year exams.

Tracey opened the passage to the Common Room just as Harry arrived at the exit. He stilled, floating the trunk until it was out of her path. She was looking around the room. It would have been narcissistic to assume she was looking for him, but Harry had a feeling that was true.

He should have left, but Harry remained rooted to the floor. Her eyes even passed directly over him, but he knew his Disillusionment Charm was spelled correctly. Tracey did not even pause as she looked and looked and found nothing. Her face dropped and then reformed into a determined expression. She marched up the stairs to the boy's dormitory. Five minutes earlier and she would have intercepted him. He watched her go and felt a tightening in his chest. He had never had to leave anything important behind before. With the Dursleys, he never had anything worth keeping.

Harry left the Common Room.

There were two more stops to make.

He had to bribe Terry with promises of how he cast certain spells in order for him to retrieve Luna. Harry was never a fan of Terry's. The boy was always more devoted to knowledge for knowledge's sake than in using it as a tool. It was a typical Ravenclaw failing. Their library was full of books that they read once and never again. What was the use of knowledge if never applied to anything?

Luna stepped into the empty classroom. Harry was still Disillusioned as she entered. She sat down and faced the chalkboard as if waiting for a professor. Harry canceled the charm and cleared his throat, trying not to surprise her. Luna, to her credit, didn't even jump. She turned slowly in her chair until her bright blue eyes found him.

"Your bags packed already?" Luna asked.

Harry cocked his head, looking at her strangely. His trunk was still Disillusioned in the corner. How could she possibly see it? Harry didn't ask her. She was allowed to have her secrets.

"Astute. Know anything else that might help me?"

Her eyes twinkled as she spun the ball that was at the end of her chained earrings. She gave him a half-smile, looking past him. Harry glanced behind him to see if she spotted something but nothing was there or, rather, nothing that he could see.

"You should go before you stay."

"A little less cryptic?" Harry asked.

"If you want to leave, do it now. The longer you wait, the harder it will be."

"You're right," Harry said. "I just wanted to see you before I left."

"No need for that, Harry. A quick goodbye will suffice." Luna stood up and walked towards him. She placed her hand on his chest, her fingers splayed open. Harry let her touch him and took a deep breath as she kept her hand on his chest. He didn't know what she was doing, but he felt...at peace. Harry didn't know how Luna knew the things she knew. He would let her have that.

"Take care of Hermione. She thinks she knows everything. She thinks she has every angle covered, but she's too blind to see her own mistakes. Keep her in check. And don't let them bully you, Luna. You have a talent."

She looked up at him, the same dreamy expression on her face.

"Go, Harry. Leave this place. But don't think I can keep Hermione in check. Only you can do that."

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Harry knocked on the door of Trow's classroom.

"Come in," invited the muffled voice.

Harry entered and found the desks were cleared away. Only the professor's desk remained near the front of the classroom. Trow was rarely one for strategic exercises in the classroom, but he would occasionally have them act out movements at a macro level. Trow beckoned him forward. The professor coughed into a tissue and even from a distance, Harry could see a tinge of red on the soiled tissue.

"What brings you here, Harry? Use of the Stationary Omnioculars is over."

Harry chose Trow because he was the least combative of his professors. There were other professors that he could have told. McGonagall would have gone straight to Snape. Flitwick would have squeaked and gone straight to Snape. Lupin would have tried to convince him to stay. Slughorn would have heaved his fat body all the way to Snape. But Trow was different. He would listen to what Harry would have to stay. There was always something accommodating about the Strategy professor.

"I'm here to tell you that I'm leaving Hogwarts." Harry found no reason to stall or beat around the bush.

Trow stilled and then stood up. He was a good actor, the professor. Yet, Harry sensed that Trow already knew he was leaving. It was a mere formality that Harry stopped by to notify the professor, but he felt compelled to do so. Trow and Lupin had been tutoring him for the past few months, so Harry felt obliged to tell him.

"It would be remiss of me not to compel you to stay or at least talk to some of the professors as to why you want to leave. Has something gone wrong? Has the tournament been too much on you? You can always -"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Professor." Harry had already heard the arguments. He had no desire to rehash them. "I think I've made up my mind already. I don't feel like going into the details of why, but I feel I would do better elsewhere."

"Better than here, Harry? Have we not impressed on you the importance of the work we're doing."

"You have. But you'll find someone else. It doesn't need to be me."

Trow obviously disagreed. He was still standing behind his desk, but Harry could see his arm was shaking. He didn't want to stay any longer, so he made a move to leave. Trow could not let Harry leave without having the last word though.

"Harry."

He turned around, waiting expectantly for a follow up. Trow let the moment hang in the air, trying to find the right words to say. Or perhaps he was trying to find the correct wrong words to say. Harry had no idea how much Trow knew. Did Snape clue him into everything? Did Trow only know what he needed to know? It mattered little. He was involved.

"Professor?" Harry tried to prompt him.

Trow seemed to remember who and here he was.

"I obviously can not prevent you from leaving. I wish I could have said more to encourage you to stay, but your mind was obviously made up long before now." Trow took a deep and labored breath and continued, "Professor Lupin and I have placed an extraordinary amount of faith in you, Harry. We chose you. We tutored you. We did not do it without reason."

You did. For Snape.

"I appreciate that, but you will find someone else."

Harry turned to leave again. It was a sign of disrespect, but Harry's patience had evaporated. Luna was right. Every moment he stayed, another hook was thrown into the water, baiting him back to Hogwarts.

"There is no one else, Harry," Trow said quietly.

Harry stopped and almost turned around. Almost. He felt like he was being pulled. Trow was a magnet and he was the iron. Harry virtually felt a tug around his waist, but it was just a phantom. He could not stay. He could not.

The path to Hogsmeade was filled with a heavy silence. Each step crunched into the ground, echoing loudly in the still air of the night. His breath misted in front of him, the icy grip of winter refusing to give way. His trunk floated behind him, light and easy to lift. He was doing it wandlessly for practice. The train would arrive tomorrow morning. It made a stop at Hogsmeade once a week and then returned to King's Cross. From there, he would have to find something to do with his time...with his life.

He reached the gates at the bottom of the walkway and found them open. Harry laughed. He didn't know who he was laughing at. Himself? Trow? Snape? These gates should have been closed. It was no coincidence they were open and inviting him to leave.

Harry's mind wandered back to what Hermione said. Perhaps Snape wanted him to leave. Perhaps Snape only wanted him to think that. Perhaps Snape wanted to give him the option of leaving.

Harry tried to sort out his reasons for leaving. Snape was unfair. He was more than unfair. He treated him cruelly. Snape went out of his way to punish him. Even the tournament seemed design to break him. If that were the case, then Harry had to swallow a bitter pill that Snape had succeeded. He felt broken. He felt dispirited. He had so many ambitions to start the year.

Slytherin would be restored and feared. Snape would be outwitted in Battle class. Great strides would be made during class and beyond. The tournament would be won. Tracey would excel in Medical. Blaise would find his feet in Leadership. So many plans, and so few executed properly, or at all.

Worst of it all, Harry knew it wasn't all Snape's fault. He had made mistakes. Some were gambles that did not pan out. Others were obvious and unforced missteps. He had a lot of time to think about what he could have done differently. Blaise should have been handled with a lighter touch. He should have addressed the dissension among his ranks. Harry was unsure what the right move was. Should he have punished them and squashed out the mutiny? Should he have coerced some of them so the situation was more favorable?

These were things that were not taught. Perhaps Moody taught some form of this metagame in Leadership courses. Perhaps that's why Blaise had outmaneuvered him. It burned in his stomach that he had not seen it until the last minute, but he was distracted. It was not a full blown excuse. His attention had to be on the tournament. A misstep in the tournament was punished far more severely than in Battle class.

Ultimately, it all came back to Snape. How much was manipulation? Did he invade Blaise's mind again? Was that why Blaise did the things he did? What if that wasn't Snape's doing? And what about Fleur? Harry had tried to push down the memories of that night, but they resurfaced as he stood at the edge of the precipice. Was Snape behind that as well or was it all Fleur? Why did she do it? Could she not be with someone who had his past? Were his scars too much to bear?

Why?

That was the question that kept echoing.

His feet was at the perimeter, Hogsmeade just a few minutes away. No professors were chasing after him. Tracey had not found him. Hermione was in Gryffindor tower, preparing for Battle class and the Third Task. Or maybe she was with Cedric. Should he care? At least, she had a purpose. Where was Fleur? Was she still hiding in her carriage? And Tireur? Did he regret pulling Harry out of the water? And Krum? Was he still laying in the Hospital Wing?

All Harry had to do was take another step and free himself forever from Snape's choking chains. Freedom was a step away. True freedom. A choice to live his life as he pleased. He ran through the list of schools he had researched. They were not militant. They were geared towards the traditional pursuits of education. Nor did they have demented headmasters. He could make new friends. Friends who didn't stab him in the back. He could even have a girlfriend. The scar on his forehead was not nearly as massive an obstacle of normal life outside of England.

He had to leave. Trow tried to guilt-trip him by reminding him of the reason Hogwarts Battle School was created. They needed a leader to prevent future dark lords, but they could find someone else. Cedric, maybe. Hermione, perhaps. Even Draco... Someone else who passed all their tests. He couldn't be the only one, could he? It was time to leave. It was time to start over. Harry felt at peace with his decision.

But pacifism never won any wars.

Surrender never gained any ground.

If another Dark Lord did arise, second best might not be good enough.

So he turned around.

Time to win.

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

"So the boy is made of something."

"Made of something or without a choice?"

"The illusion of choice can be used to show what decisions would be made. Either way, he did not break. He bent. He wavered. Yet, he returned. He senses the magnitude of his true purpose."

"Or perhaps he realized that we would never let him leave? Perhaps he came back because he understood the choice was illusory."

"Whatever the reasoning, he decided to stay. Lesser students would have surrendered. They would have thrown their hands in the air at the unfairness of it all. I am not fool enough to think that we might have actually broken him, but if he broke, then he is not the one to defeat the Dark Lord."

"Lucky that he did not leave then."

"It was not luck. Stop pitying him."

"It is not pity. It is the crushing realization that despite all of the things we've done to him, he nonetheless came to the conclusion that the best decision was to stay."

"That is the best decision."

"For us. Yes. For him..."

"Yes. We have done our damnedest to break him. I thought that it would be the Veela's deception. I thought it would be my many unwinnable scenarios in Battle. I thought perhaps it would be Krum and Tireur. Yet, it was the Zabini boy. Curious."

"Not very curious in fact. You have never placed enough emphasis on positive reasons that justify fighting. We can not all have your unfettered rage. He needs a reason to fight. He needs a reason to continue on."

"What would you have me do? Forcibly restore him as the leader of the Slytherins?"

"Of course not. But it might be time to take a more personal approach. He has grown. It might be time to brief him."

"Now? Surely, you haven't gone mad in your state. It is ludicrous to posit that he be given more than what he needs."

"And what he needs is a justification. That much is blindingly obvious. He said so himself to the girl. We need to give him a why."

"I don't think so. He returned. He has his own reasons. We do not need to add any more. He will be told when he is ready, but it is blindingly obvious that he is not ready. Not just yet. Very soon though."

"He needs a reason. We all need reasons. Perhaps the girl herself could be one of those reasons. Just as the boy is not his father, neither is he you."

"Do we really need reasons? Why did you stay then? You, the biggest hypocrite of them all, refused the journey into the next life. Why did you stay, Albus?"

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A/N:

Projected update time: 22 days

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