Harry dreamt. The memories from his sleep were flashes. They were enough for him to recognize bits and pieces, but they were never long enough for him to really understand all the details.

From the lighting in the first memory he could tell it was late, much later than curfew, and Ron had his wand pulled out and aimed right at Harry. Hermione was next to him with her own wand out and pointed back at Ron. Harry couldn’t see his own wand anywhere. No one moved at first; they just stood there, glaring at each other. Why in the world would his best mate be pointing a wand at him?

In another memory, a slightly older Hermione looked back at him, nodded wearily, and then yelled to the surrounding witches and wizards as Harry went forward. Everyone fell in behind him. There were no yells or even talking as their group marched through the forest in the silence of utter exhaustion. And then Harry found himself in the midst of chaos.

Everywhere around him wands were flashing as spells smashed into shields or were dodged. A power blow destroyed Harry's shield, the magical backlash stunning him for a moment as another spell came flying through the air toward him. A shield came up in front of him. He didn’t know who cast it, but it diverted the spell enough to miss him. Not wasting time, he launched a counter attack, but the surrounding chaos prevented him from knowing if he'd taking any down permanently. Several witches and wizards encircled around him as Harry redoubled his effort. They managed to cut a path through, but not before at least one fell at his side. The blood-spattered body was left behind as they continued to fight.

The Death Eaters fought fiercely but gave ground as more and more of his friends and allies regrouped after having been surprised by the trap. Harry finally saw an opening and signaled the group. With a last great burst of energy, his team pressed through the ranks of the Death Eaters, effectively destroying their defense and causing them to flee like the cowardly dogs they were.

Harry woke with a gasp; his heart pounded before he realized it had just been another dream. Being back in Hogwarts must’ve triggered something, as the nightmares caused by his memories were worse than ever. Not a bit tired, Harry just lay in bed and stared up aimlessly at the ceiling.

Every year since he learned of magic had been an adventure. Some parts were great; many, not so much; and a few, horrible. From the feelings and memories he was getting, Harry was sure he had many adventures in store for him. Part of him, the part that decided on getting help to change things, was happy for it. He knew things were going to be bad, but this time he could change them! A small sliver of him, though, was worried and wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep and never think of it again.

Harry was quite thankful that there wasn’t really anything going on at breakfast later that morning, as his brain wasn’t up for much. All anyone could talk about was the visiting schools and what was in store for the coming year. Harry, too, had thought about the same thing, though perhaps to a different extent than the rest — wondering if anyone of them were evil or working for Voldemort. It really would be an excellent way for him to get someone into the school again. Hopefully Dumbledore would check the foreign teachers thoroughly after what happened with Quirrel. Add to that trying to figure what it was Hermione saw that bothered her so much, and he was admittedly confused. Professor McGonagall handing out their schedules was a welcome interruption. His mind was running in circles again.

It was actually lucky that school started on a Friday that year, as he wouldn’t have Potions until Monday morning. He was certain that Snape was doing this on purpose. What were the odds of Harry having Potions first thing Monday morning for four years in a row?

Transfiguration class changed days, as did Harry’s other classes like Charms and History of Magic. But Potions always stayed the same. Charms was right after Potions on Monday, so at least he’d have a fair and somewhat fun teacher to make up for Snape’s bias. Defense Against the Dark Arts, the subject Harry was best at and most looking forward to this year, was the last class for Monday, so hopefully that would help erase the memory of Potions altogether.

“Good morning class,” Professor McGonagall said as she walked in to the classroom. “Welcome back for your fourth year at Hogwarts. I hope you are ready to work hard this year, as it will be the most difficult of your career here so far. During the first two years of Hogwarts, you adjusted to the daily use of magic in spells and to our teaching style. Your third year we increased the difficulty of the magic you were introduced to and broadened your horizons with your elective classes.”

“This year you will begin to learn the finer intricacies of magic. Whereas you have accomplished most of your previous work by yourself, this year you will often find yourself working in a group to complete projects outside of class. Some of these you will be able to select your fellow members. There will be several, however, where your professors will assign your group.”

The entire class seemed to straighten up unconsciously as their prim professor gave them all a very serious stare. “I have overseen these projects for more than thirty years and can unequivocally state that selecting your typical friends to be group members is rarely the best choice. While I understand that you may wish to spend more time with your friends, do not hesitate to select members from outside your normal circle. You should not look at this as a punishment but rather as an opportunity to expand your horizons.”

While most people were whispering excitedly about the news, Harry was less than pleased with the prospect of group assignments. Unlike most his peers, he had dealt with group projects in primary school. His cousin Dudley, unfortunately, made sure that Harry was always in his group. Harry would do all the work, and Dudley would take all the credit.

A quick glance towards Hermione showed that she, too, was not looking forward to these projects. Harry didn’t know much about her experiences in primary school. Neither of them liked to talk about it much, but he remembered how the know-it-alls were treated in his previous school. If there were anyone in school that got picked on nearly as much as Harry, it would have had to have been someone like her.

McGonagall continued on, explaining how this year each professor would be evaluating their students’ performances and making suggestions for improvement in their continuing education. Harry didn’t get what the big deal was, but Hermione and several others seemed to react to that announcement.

The only other interesting announcement was the exchange program with the other schools. “With the addition of the visiting schools this year,” she said, “we will be conducting an exchange program that will allow you the chance to participate in their classes a few times each month.”

McGonagall may have said it was all about building international ties and such, but to Harry it was a way away from Snape!

The rest of the class was just rest review from the previous year and questions about the summer homework. This year he didn’t have any questions as Ollivander had him work through all of it several times until he understood it completely. Surprisingly though, Harry actually had a difficult time with the review. Not because he didn’t know the spells but because his outlook on magic had changed quite a bit over the summer, and he now had to rethink the way he used to cast several of the spells.

History of Magic, unfortunately not first period this year, was as boring as ever, but Harry still paid attention. He wished they could use different books, like the ones Ollivander had him read over the summer. Reading about a specific person in history, about what he or she did, and how a single person’s actions affected the world around them, was actually interesting. Classes with Bins, however, were boring.

The last subject of the day was Ancient Runes, and Harry was a little worried about it. The class was made up mostly of people he didn’t really know. He knew who they were, of course, but he rarely talked to any of them. Most, like Terry Boot, Padma Patil, Susan Bones, and Hanna Abbot, Harry didn’t really mind at all. Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, and another of Malfoy’s lackeys, Nott, however, he could have done without. And from the looks they were sending him, the feeling was mutual. At least Malfoy wasn’t in this class.

“As you may have noticed,” Professor Vector said as she walked in. “We have a new addition to our class.”

“Mr. Potter,” she added, “did you, by any chance borrow the notes of an older year when you studied over the holidays?”

“Yes Ma’am,” Harry answered. “Katie Bell helped me catch up.”

“That would explain it. I stress different areas of study depending on what that individual class is having difficulty with. Your scores were impressive overall, but there are a few areas where you will need to catch up to this individual class. Stay after a few moments, and I’ll arrange a schedule for you.”

There were a couple sniggers and comments about the extra help, but thankfully it wasn’t too bad overall. The rest of the class went just like his others so far, what to expect the year and reviewing of the previous year. Padma and Susan, who sat in front of he and Hermione, both seemed rather nice, as did Terry Boot, who sat next to them. While Harry talked to them a few times over the years, he had never taken the chance to get to know them. On a spare piece of parchment Harry wrote down what he could remember of them and figured he’d make a full heading for each of them in his notebook later. Ollivander had wanted him to get to know at least one new person a week after all. Now he had his first three already chosen.

Harry stayed behind after class to talk to the professor, though he wasn’t alone as one of the Hufflepuffs, Hanna Abbott, stayed after as well.

“Miss Abbott, your parents spoke to me over the summer concerning your scores.”

Hanna remained looking at the floor as she replied in such a sullen voice that he actually felt sorry for her. What was it with teachers and singling someone out in front of their peers? Snape singled Harry out on so many occasions that he now felt immune from the embarrassment, but he could still sympathize.

“If it is acceptable, I’d like to tutor you both first thing next Saturday morning. Once things calm down a bit, we’ll look at scheduling something more permanent.”

“That’s fine with me,” Harry replied. He’d planned on continuing studying Runes with Katie, but this way he could spend time with her doing other things instead.

Thankfully, Ancient Runes was his last class for the day, so he took his time heading back to Gryffindor Tower — a decision he soon came to regret when he saw Katie was already in a conversation with one of her friends. Part of him wanted to head over and sit with Katie. The other part, however, wasn’t sure if he should. If she’d been in a group, he would have gone over, but Katie was with just one friend that Harry hardly knew.

He hated not knowing what to do around her or how to act. Ever since they kissed the night of his birthday, the first couple minutes around each other were awkward. Once they got past that, things normally went perfectly. It was just his self-consciousness that buggered things up. And it was that same annoying doubt that caused Harry to head up to his dorm instead of over to her.

--

It was disturbing: That was the only way Harry could describe the silence in the Great Hall that evening after all the other schools had arrived. With more than five times the amount of students packed into the hall than normal, Harry expected it to be loud. No one, however, seemed to be in the mood to really talk. He was slightly surprised by how many new students were actually here. There had been a few flashbacks since the previous day, but seeing everyone now was different.

Beauxbatons was slightly larger than Hogwarts, Durmstrang a bit smaller, and the Australian school smaller still. Salem Magical Institute and The Gaia Institute, however, had nearly twice as many students as Hogwarts. That little fact only had surprised many Gryffindors. Since Hogwarts was the premiere wizarding school in the world, it only made since that it was largest as well. Hermione was not surprised and explained that both countries had a much larger population pool to gain students from.

Thankfully, the food arrived and the silence was broken as everyone paid homage to the noble creatures that sacrificed their lives for human enjoyment. The delicious meal also had the benefit of loosening tongues as the noise of conversation slowly started to fill the hall. Instead of just the normal Hogwarts feast, the tables filled with foods and delicacies from around the world.

While Ron chose to stay with his traditional fair, he and Hermione were a bit more adventuresome and tried a little of everything. Some were delicious and he made a note to have them again; others, however, he couldn’t stand. All the while Hermione kept a running commentary of what she knew about the different dishes. Harry knew she was well traveled, having been on vacations to different countries every summer since she was little, but her knowledge still left him amazed.

--

“Wha… Mr. Ollivander?” Harry asked in surprise. The last he remembered he’d been talking in his dorm talking with Ron and trying to get the some sleep. Now he was standing in the middle of a large stone circle. The massive stones completely encircled him. The fit of each lintel was exact and a twin of the others. Underneath one of the arches a brook burbled down into a pool in the center of the circle, filling the small depression there before moving on out the other side. The tranquility of this place was lulling, even to Harry’s shocked heart.

“Ah, welcome Mr. Potter! We were not positive when you would arrive,” the old wand maker said. There were several people spread throughout the cavern. Harry remembered meeting the group the other day at Ollivanders’ shop, but hadn’t expected to see them again so soon. Most turned to greet him, but two kept working on whatever it was they were doing.”

“Where am I?”

“Our most difficult projects are too expensive and volatile to be done in just any backroom. For such cases there are a few natural nodes throughout the world that may be used by the true masters of a craft — this is one such node.”

“A node?” Not the best question, perhaps, but considering Harry’s confusion, it was the best he could do.

“Magic is an energy found all around us. It is by channeling this energy that we may power our spells, whether we tap into the magic by use of arcane words and wand gestures, focusing our inner will and psyche, or through prayer of a god. Since the source of all this magic is chaotic in nature, the availability of that energy can vary from moment to moment. Nodes are locations were that energy is focused and calm.

“Look there,” Ollivander said, pointing toward where Jennifer Daniels, one of the women he’d met the other day, was working with a large diamond. She was one of the two people not to stop her work to welcome him.

Mrs. Daniels was still for a moment before she brought her fingertips to a point over a series of runestones. Focusing intensely at the space just above her fingers, she conjured a small orb of energy. The orb began to spin rapidly in place, causing thin streams of energy to slide away, creating an electrical storm around the orb. The crackling sounds of the energy grew louder accompanied by the whistling of raging air as small forks of lightning arced around the spinning maelstrom. The storm swelled in size as it pulsed and vibrated, as if trying to escape her careful control. When it reached its full potential, she separated her hands and arc after arc of blazing energy rained down on to the runestones below, the size of the orb shrinking with each powerful blast. After the storm cleared, Harry looked down and realized the runestones were missing. The runes, once etched in the stone, now glistened on the large diamond.

“Wow,” was all Harry could think to say. He’d seen a lot of magic before, but that was wicked.

“An accurate description, Mr. Potter,” Mr. Ollivander said. “Far more so than you realize, as there are very few alive who have witnessed the infusion of such a large amount of natural magic. Even among masters, Jennifer is a prodigy.”

After she was finished the diamond, it was Ollivander’s turn to work. Harry was free to walk around and practice magic as he pleased, but he was asked not to disturb anyone who was working. Looking around the workshop, he was amazed at all the different gadgets. Harry had absolutely no idea what any of them did, but the sheer number of intricate looking items swirling, puffing, vibrating, or changing colors was impressive. One item in particular caught his eye. It was floating carefully above an out-of-the-way table toward the other side of the circle.

Harry figured the leather-bound black staff was one of the expensive projects Ollivander spoke of. The obsidian of the shaft was as black as a starless night, and bands of crimson intricately swirled along the surface. Glowing, deep red runes that were far too complex for him to understand were mixed within the swirls. Mounted atop the staff was a large emerald carved into the image of a dragon with wings fully extended. Harry stared at it for a few moments before moving on. That was easily the single most impressive staff he had ever heard of.

Making sure to stay well away from the staff, Harry began working on a few spells. The magic seemed to react faster, and even his wand movements seemed more accurate and fluid. He first thought was because he was in a node, but he learned it was also because he had left his physical body at Hogwarts, allowing his consciousness to pay more attention to his magic. Once he mastered being able to feel his magic, something Ollivander had had him working on for weeks now, it would always respond to him in such a manner.

Harry was working on a shielding charm when Reanna walked over a bit later. Like the few occasions before, Harry’s attention quickly transferred from what he was doing to the beautiful blonde bombshell in front him. The barely existent shield dissolved nearly instantly, and he blushed at the pointed look she gave him in response. After that rather embarrassing beginning, however, Harry quickly learned she was quite knowledgeable on shielding spells.

While her body was a distraction, her insight on magic was especially helpful. In many cases, including with the shielding charm he was working on, the shield was actually an extension of the caster’s magic. While powerful, these shields would slowly wear down the caster because they continuously channeled magic to continue powering the shield. Less powerful shields only took magic in the very beginning and then existed for a few minutes until their power wore out or the shield was destroyed. A few rare spells actually converted the magic around the target area into a shield. These were generally the most difficult to cast, but they were also the most helpful.

On a normal shield, the caster sometimes felt a magical backlash when the shield was destroyed. By being completely disconnected from the caster, these last types of shields would have no backlash. There were also a few spells that were specifically designed to transfer from the shield to the caster. The Unforgiveables, Reanna explained, were actually amplified by the connection between shield and caster.

Understanding a bit more about the nature of the spells actually helped a lot. With Reanna’s advice, Harry easily learned two different shielding charms, and he was well on his way to learning a transfiguration-based shield when Ollivander came by. Morning had arrived long before he was ready, and it was time for him to leave. Apparently, not having a body also meant he didn’t feel tired after hours of practicing.

Eager to continue training, Harry asked if he could come back tomorrow night.

“I’m afraid that is not possible, Mr. Potter,” Ollivander replied. “By allowing your consciousness to separate, your body gains the rest it requires while you may continue to learn. This, however, comes at a cost. Sleep has evolved for a purpose and is crucial to consolidate memories, as well as stabilize your magic, mood, and sanity. Wizards have evolved an organized architecture of sleep. The trick is that the architecture of sleep is broken up into various stages, and one does not approach the most intense periods until after one has progressed back and forth through the others. The most intense period is late into the sleep cycle and often early in the morning. You may train with us twice per week without suffering any long-term effects. Anymore than that, however, I can not recommend.”

To be honest, he only understood about half of what Ollivander said, which really wasn’t out of the ordinary — the old man was smart. Unfortunately, Harry did understand two days a week. “Will Sirius be here next time?”

“The metallic band used to bind consciousness and magic together is time-consuming to create. It will be three more weeks before another is fully prepared. Once that is completed, I am quite sure Mr. Black will be eager to join us.”

--

Waking up after having spent the night training was an odd experience. One moment he was talking with Ollivander, the next he lying in bed with his eyes close. There was no grogginess, but his body was still a little stiff. The sun was barely peaking over the horizon, but he was already fully awake. Harry stretched and went on his morning run. He would not have imagined it last year, but for some odd reason he really liked the early morning runs. Most of the castle was still asleep, and there was no worry about running into Filch or Snape. This was another aspect of the morning that surprised him. Compared to sneaking out during the night, sneaking out in the early morning was much easier.

After a few laps around the castle, Harry headed back in to Hogwarts. The run wasn’t as long or as far as normal, but it was fun and the scenery beautiful. Harry hated the idea of running in circles and decided to map out a better path for next time. There was a lot of land around Hogwarts and Hogsmeade that could be used; part of it was technically out of bounds for a student, but that had never stopped him before and wasn’t about to now.

Coming down the stairs of a rather well known secret passage, Harry was met with a series of shouts and exclamations. Looking down, he saw nearly a dozen students and several professors from the foreign schools staring at him like he was a ghost or something. He wasn’t sure what exactly was going on, but he figured walking down out of the ceiling on translucent steps probably had something to do with their odd looks.

“Good morning, Mr. Potter,” Professor Dumbledore said, in a rather cheerful voice. “I dare hope you are not trying to sneak back in at this hour?”

“Morning Headmaster,” replied Harry as he finished walking down the stairs and tried to ignore the outbreak of whispers. Just great. He was famous internationally as well. “And no, sir, I’m just coming back from my morning run.”

“Mr. Wood would be quite proud of you. He often ran in the mornings before your Quidditch practices,” he said before introducing Harry to the rest of the group. The students turned out to be the equivalent of Head Boy and Girl and prefects of the American and Australian schools.

“I am in the process of giving a tour of Hogwarts,” Dumbledore added once the introductions were complete. “A student’s perspective may be helpful however. Would you care to impart any advice?”

“Ah, sure,” Harry replied as he tried to think of a few helpful tips. “One of the main things is the stairs. With more than a thousand years of having students walk all over them, they’re understandably a little spiteful. If you’re in a hurry and want them to stay still, they’ll most likely start to change on you. This can work to your advantage, however, by thinking the opposite of what you want. Basically, if you’re in a hurry, make sure to think that you have all the time in the world. If you actually want them to change sides, start thinking about how you want to them to stay still. It’s not a hundred percent, but it’s a lot better than leaving it up to chance.

“The next most important thing is to learn the different secret passages, like the one I just took,” he told the group. Most of the students and teachers actually seemed interested in what he had to say, but there were a few that looked annoyed at having to listen. “With them, you can easily get from any point to any other point in Hogwarts within a few minutes time.

“Ah, here’s another important one, The Forbidden Forest. Now, I’m sure you’ve been told it’s forbidden — but no one ever really mentions why. First off, the outer edges aren’t too bad. You can actually see Unicorns and several other rare creatures from the edges. Going in any further than the edges is rather dangerous, though. If, for some odd reason, you’re like me and find yourself in the forest, there are two parts you’ll want to avoid at all costs. To the north and east of the main path you’ll find wooden signs saying ‘There be monsters here.’ This is the section that isn’t covered on any Hogwarts or Ministry map, and there is good reason for that. To the north you’ll find Centaurs. While they may let a lost child survive, it’s doubtful they’d let an older student live. To the east is a colony of Acromantula being led by Aragog. They will eat you without a second thought, so avoid them at all costs. Further in the forest there are probably other creatures as well, but I wouldn’t recommend finding out.

“Let’s see,” he said while trying to think of something to lighten the mood up a bit. Harry wanted them to take it seriously but not really leave them scared. It wasn’t a big deal as long as you avoided the trouble spots. “The paintings are the biggest gossips around. If you want something to remain a secret, don’t let them see or hear anything. If they do, it’ll be around Hogwarts in no time. There are also a few secret passages out of Hogwarts.”

Dumbledore coughed slightly. “That is, perhaps, enough for now Mr. Potter. We do not want to corrupt our new friends too much just yet.”

Harry just grinned at the old professor. He probably shouldn’t have said anything. Realistically though, at least a few of them would be sneaking out anyway, so there was no real harm done.

The rest of the morning was actually pretty fun. Neither Ron and Hermione, nor Katie and her friends could believe he’d said all that in front of the headmaster. Fred and George were quite proud of him. For the first time since he tossed them up again the wall, they actually laughed and teased him. Katie’s reaction seemed rather odd to Harry though. To him, Dumbledore was just his headmaster, and Harry worried about saying something wrong in front of McGonagall a great deal more than Dumbledore. But to Katie, Dumbledore was some legendary figure, and she couldn’t imagine acting like that in front of him.

"I like the decorations,” Harry commented as he walked into Katie’s dorm a bit after breakfast, only to be met with the sight of clothes spread all over the place. “Were you going for the hit by a tornado look or the run over by a train look?"

“Look at all her beautiful clothes,” Cephea responded in her eleven-year-old overly enthusiastic voice. “Isn’t Katie going to look great?”

Harry just nodded his head in agreement. After seeing her outfits this summer, he wasn’t going to complain. “So, what will you wear now that we’re back at Hogwarts?”

“Depends on the occasion,” answered Katie.

“Occasion?”

"Like for afternoons, weekends, or going to outside, and even to Hogsmeade. Those sorts of occasions."

“Oh,” Harry said. “For afternoons I guess.”

“What’s the weather like?”

Harry looked out the window. “Umm … Same as today."

"Alright. No one’s seen what I wore before yesterday, so previous outfits won’t matter. But, if we’re hypothetically speaking about sometime after the next week that would completely change things."

“That matters?” he asked.

“Of course it matters. It’s been nearly three months since most the school has even seen me. The clothes I wear the first couple weeks will set the tone and expectations of my outfits for the rest of the semester.”

“I’m probably going to regret this, but what does it take to decide?” Harry had asked a few girl questions over the summer when Katie was with Angelina and Alicia, and he’d quickly learned that he understood nothing about girls. Sometimes it just wasn’t worth asking, but if he could happen to show his preference for her mid-thigh skirts and dresses, it would be well worth it.

"There are tons of factors. My hair, for example. Last year I almost always wore it down, but I’ve been wearing it up quite a bit this summer. That means I’ll need to wear at least a couple outfits with my hair up soon. I can’t just wait a month or so and then suddenly show up one day with it up. Then there are the obvious details such as shoes and my class schedule.

“I get the hair and shoes, but what possible difference does your class schedule make?"

"Are you kidding?” asked Angelina. “That's one of the most important factors!"

“How could it possibly matter? School robes cover any outfit you wear.”

Katie asked, “I meant what classmates I’d have for the next day. They may not be able to see my outfit right then, but they’ll have paid attention the day before. Anyways, classes are finished by three o’clock. That leaves at least six hours to wear our normal clothes."

Harry guessed he could understand that. Hermione rarely ever really removed her robe after a day of classes; but thinking about it now, he realized most girls did. "But you still think about your classmates when you choose your clothes?"

"That’s mostly what fashion is all about. There are a huge number of factors you have to think about when considering who’s in each class. Their status, their opinions of different styles, especially of what I might wear, trends in the way they dress and what they might be wearing that day. There's much more, but that’s the gist of it."

"Hang on,” he said, as he tried to wrap his brain around that. “Are you saying that one of the things you think about is what your next-day classmates will be wearing the day before?"

"Of course," Katie answered in a matter-of-fact tone that made it seem like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"But you can’t possibly know what everyone is wearing if they haven’t decided what to wear yet because they’re wondering what everyone else will be wearing!”

"I know. That’s one of the hardest problems."

"Why does it even matter what they’re wearing?" Harry asked in frustration, as his mind began to hurt from the complete lack of logic.

"It's too important not to take into consideration. Can you imagine what a disaster it'd be if I wore the same outfit as another girl?"

“Um … No?"

"Trust me on this,” Katie said. “It's an embarrassment. Thankfully, no one would let two identically dressed girls bump into each other, so it’s nearly impossible.”

"Seriously? That seems a bit over the top.”

Katie looked puzzled at that. "It’s not. The most Pureblooded Slytherin would immediately warn a Muggleborn Gryffindor because she might need the same warning herself someday. Even hatred isn't as important as fashion."

Harry was still struggling to understand the effort required to pick out what to wear, but he finally just decided to leave it. Katie was a girl, and that was that. "I can't believe the effort you put into something as simple clothing. I just put on whatever comes to mind and couldn’t care less whether other guys wear the same clothes as me."

"Nearly every guy except Lee and a couple others have no idea how to dress,” Angelina commented. “It’s always the same jeans, same shirts, and same jackets when you all have different body shapes, heights and skin colors. It's a complete disaster repeated hundreds of times over!”

“She has a point,” Katie agreed. “Which do you think looks better, the clothing every other guy wears, or the outfits we picked out for you over summer?"

Grudgingly, Harry admitted that their clothing looked better. He’d already had more than a few comments on them the last couple days. Harry came up here to spend a bit more time with Katie, but he decided it was safer just to leave and let the girls do their clothes. “I’ll be downstairs. Come get me when you’re ready for the tour.”

Mentioning the tour sidetracked them away from clothing, which was perfectly fine with Harry. Cephea had already bragged about it to her dorm-mates, so instead of just showing her around, he and Katie ended up taking a small group of firsties. It took a bit longer than he originally expected, as they both stopped to tell stories about the different areas. Harry actually enjoyed it a great deal though, as Katie’s stories were a lot more interesting than the rest of the tour.

They were almost finished with the tour when they stumbled upon one aspect of Hogwarts he could have done without — an encounter with Malfoy. Apparently a kid from one of the other schools was lost and had the misfortune to meet up with Malfoy. The summer hadn’t done anything for Malfoy’s attitude, and he had the kid surrounded by his two thugs, Crabbe and Goyle.

“Knock it off, Malfoy!”

“Potter,” the blond boy sneered, “this doesn’t concern you.”

“Get stuffed, Malfoy. It does concern me when you ruin Hogwarts’ name. Why don’t you crawl back to your dungeon and cry before I have to sic Hermione on you. You do remember the last time, don’t you?” Harry asked with a grin. The memory of Hermione hitting Malfoy was one of the best from last year.

Like normal, Malfoy was all bluster and left with only a few more idle threats. Personally, Harry thought he should team up with Professor Trelawney with how often they both spoke of his impending doom.

Harry would have liked to spend more time with Katie, but he didn’t want to answer any questions about how he knew where each of the foreign schools was already. It’s not that he didn’t trust her, but there were several first year girls around as well. And if there was one thing he had learned over the years, it was that girls would gossip. Even Hermione, who seemed the least girly of their classmates, kept up on the gossip — though she denied ever gossiping herself. They were mostly done with the tour, so he had Katie take the girls back up to Gryffindor Tower while Harry took care of the foreign kid.

The kid, an Australian named Michael, looked to be in his second or third year, though Harry didn’t ask. He loved exploring and spent a lot of weekends wandering the halls of his school. He heard rumors about secret passages here at Hogwarts during breakfast and decided to find them on his own. Apparently, the kid really was good, because he had already found a half dozen different ones before running in to the Slytherins.

By the time Harry got back to the common room, neither Katie nor Cephea were around. Harry figured she was back up in her room playing with clothes and decided to leave her to it and hang out with Ron and Hermione instead.

--

“A word please,” Professor McGonagall called to Harry as he walked into the Great Hall the next morning. She, Professors Snape, Dumbledore, and a few from the other schools were talking in a small group just off from the Gryffindor’s table. As they got closer, Harry noticed Malfoy and his two goons with the group as well. Malfoy’s sickening, malicious grin didn’t bode well.

“Mr. Potter, there have been serious allegations about your conduct yesterday.”

“Enough of this,” Snape snarled. “The brat should have been expelled years ago. His latest stunt just proves my point once again!”

Typical. Snape had proved time and time again that he hated Harry. How Dumbledore and McGonagall could even believe that man was beyond him.

“Wait a minute, you actually believe something Malfoy said?” he asked incredulously as his mind caught up to what the teachers were saying. “He was the one causing problems yesterday, not me!”

“A likely excuse,” Snape sneered. “Why did you not report this transgression to a professor if you witnessed it yesterday.”

“The school’s never done anything about it his bullying before. Why would this time be any different?”

“Draco Malfoy,” Snape started, but Harry cut him off. “Is nothing more than a pathetic cry-baby bully and has been since first year. The moment you stand up to him, he starts crying about his father this and his father that. There were six of us there yesterday that saw Malfoy picking on one of the Australian kids. You can ask them what happened.”

“There will be no need for more witnesses. Four students have already come forward as having witnessed your abuse.”

“They’re lying!”

Harry started in surprise at the strong Australian accent. He hadn’t realized it, but they’d become the center of attention in the Great Hall.

“Harry was the one that saved me yesterday after I became lost. He stopped them and brought me back. They,” the kid from yesterday, Michael, said while pointing at Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, “held me to the wall and made me listen to him go on and on about his father and how old his family line is. Isn’t there a law against making someone listen to that? Cruel and unusual punishment?”

It took a moment for everyone to understand what he said through his Australian accent. When they did though, the nearby Gryffindors cracked up laughing. Harry thought the kid was nice yesterday, but now he had proven himself in Harry’s eyes.

“I can attest to part of that Madam,” another Australian accent said, this one from a girl. Harry was fairly sure she was one of Prefects he met coming back from his run the previous morning. “At nearly eleven yesterday morning someone pounded on our picture frame. After opening it, I found Mr. Potter escorting a lost student back to us — though neither spoke of any bullying.”

He couldn’t help but smile at the girl. With the victim and another witness, both from a foreign school, Malfoy and Snape’s plans were ruined. Harry had a hard time believing Dumbledore would have expelled him without really looking into what happened, but he could easily see getting a few detentions for Malfoy’s lies. It wouldn’t be the first time that had happened.

Snape, being the fair and unbiased professor he was, vocally defended one of his students against such slander. Not wanting to argue in front of the students, Dumbledore called for a meeting after breakfast and asked all the students to continue on with their meal. Personally, Harry thought the entire thing should never have happened.

“You,” one of the twins said to the Australian kid in an overly serious voice, “are brash, brave, and entirely too bold. I like that. It reminds me of … me.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Hermione scolded. “He should have gone to a teacher first thing!”

“What do you think,” Fred or George asked several nearby Gryffindors. “He saved the day and made fun of a Slytherin. Is he an honorary Gryffindor or what?”

There were quite a few cheers of agreement, and Michael was swept away in a swarm of applause and slaps to the back. The older Gryffindors were always looking for an excuse for a party, and this seemed as good enough reason as any. The rest of breakfast was actually a good bit of fun. The Gryffindor prefects, Hermione, and even the professors tried to calm everyone down, but the mood was contagious, and breakfast stayed a rather rowdy affair. Quite a few insults and pranks were traded back and forth with the Slytherins over the next hour. The professors did manage to keep breakfast from escalating into a full-blown war, though there were a couple close calls.

Katie finished her breakfast earlier than most. After talking to her friends for a few minutes, she left the table. Harry saw her go and quickly finished chewing before getting up to follow. The thought of a few minutes alone with her was more than enough to leave the rest of his food on his plate. So intent on following her, Harry didn’t even think to say bye to his friends or take a look around as he walked out of the Great Hall.

BANG!

Several people screamed as pain exploded in the back of Harry's head and the world tilted around him. Disoriented and unable to defend himself, Malfoy's blows felt distant, as if muted by his numb senses. He felt anger as a primal force rose within him. It flowed through his body and every muscle tensed and clouded with his rage. In that moment he lost control as a basic, more animal instinct took hold. A new force emerged as Harry’s mind fought for survival with murderous intent.

When he finally regained composure he couldn’t believe what had happened. The entire entrance way was destroyed: windows shattered, doors blown off their hinges, steps from the stairs lying in pieces on the floor, and Malfoy imbedded in the opposite wall. Turning on his side, Harry clutched his knees to his chest. He tried to remember what exactly had happened, but he couldn’t. He was covered in sweat, had destroyed everything nearby, and seriously injured Malfoy. They were all horrible things, so why then had it felt so … good.

Standing slowly his muscles felt stiff, his joints were sore, and his head was pounding. There were people nearby talking. Students and professors were asking him questions, demanding, shouting. Harry ignored them all.