Greetings once more, friends and neighbors!  I hope you all enjoy this SuperSized chapter – I really wanted to finish out the summer, but then I realized that I got to do a scene with one of my favorite characters to write – Sluggy!

As a warning, this chapter contains quite a few scenes from canon.  Alas, I am not JKR, but I’m fairly certain you’ve all at least read and mostly own the series, so I don’t think I’m spoiling anything.

Harry Potter and the Unlocked Knowledge

Chapter Four:  D. Alley Blues, Lunch With Sluggy

Harry, muscles straining with the day’s exertion, did a quick featherlight charm as he ran partly up the tree before him, launching himself back towards his attacker much faster thanks to the charm, and blasted off a curse that send Moody flying off his feet.  Harry carelessly flung a disarming at the aged auror and smirked at his victory.  The auror certainly had slowed down since the last rein of Voldemort – not dueling for fourteen years will do that to a body, Harry supposed.  Harry, however, was in peak condition for dueling.  He had spent the past week and a half dueling almost constantly, and he was finally starting to show some improvement.  Since the night Tom had shared some of Voldemort’s memories with him – memories that were so vivid that Harry felt as though they were his own experiences, as though he’d been the one to raise his wand and struck down countless enemies, instead of just the raw, cold knowledge he was used to – Harry had felt as though he’d had ten years of deadly combat experience.  Powerful as he felt, and arrogant as he became, it seemed that experience wasn’t everything.

Aiming, for instance, was another crucial skill that Harry had yet to perfect.  Tom, of course, had years of target practice even before he started dueling to rely on.  He could thoughtless point his wand at a target he wanted destroyed and it would be done.  But relying on this muscle memory did not allow Harry, for instance, to hit the prone Moody with the Expelliarmus he casually flicked away.  This earned him a stout blow to the head by a curse from Moody, a brief bout with unconsciousness, a rude awakening by Moody, a lecture by Moody, and another blow to the head by Moody’s wand.  Moody left, scowling, leaving Harry to sleep off the effects of the morning’s lesson.  He walked in, told Molly to Floo him when, “that damn boy learns how to point a stick,” and hobbled to the edge of the wards, where he Apparated with an angry ‘pop’.

This wasn’t a surprise to Harry’s friends, who’d spent most of the time since he’d joined them afraid for his life – indeed, most of the time since they’d met him afraid for his life; this wasn’t even an uncommon way for Moody to stop the lesson.

Harry limped into the house scowling grabbed the lunch leftovers that Mrs. Weasley had left out for him.  The matronly woman smiled at Harry in encouragement, but he told her the truth.  “I got arrogant, Mrs. Weasley, and I know I deserved his comments today.  Thanks for lunch.”  

And so Harry was out by the pond shooting spells.  He spelled a rock to emit different colored bouts of air – either red or yellow – in all directions at random.  When he tossed the rock into the pond, different colored bubbles would erupt at random, and Harry spent a rather boring hour shooting repeated nonverbal stinging spells at the bubbles to pop the red ones.  While productive and Harry did note progress with his diligent work, it could hardly be considered very fun.

Ron was the one who came up with what Harry called, “The most brilliant idea ever – I could kiss you, mate!”  Ron whitened slightly, but then smiled nervously, as though questioning whether Harry actually would.  Then, Ron and Ginny climbed onto their broomsticks and became Harry’s moving targets for target practice.  Harry cut off three more branches of a tree and stuck blocks of conjured marble onto them before performing flying charms on the branches and animating the marble, creating three more flying broomstick targets.  He then charmed them all to be the color yellow except for one, which would turn red – instructed to alternate between the five targets once every two seconds or when he hit it with a spell.  

Thus began the most popular game at the Burrow outside of Quidditch – Broom Hunter.  The twins thought it brilliant and were developing a miniature set to sell, and Bill, Fleur, Remus, and Tonks could often be seen begging Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and Harry to be their targets.  As the most agile flyers, Harry and Ginny were the two most difficult targets, and it took some time before even Harry could reliably hit the girl.  Mad–Eye, upon seeing the game, insisted that he take a turn, so Ron and Harry suited up.  Instead of using a paintball spell like the rest of the shooters, Mad–Eye shot Bone Breaking Curses and powerful Bludgeoning and Flinging Hexes at both the boys and the animated marble.  Harry and Ron flew for their lives, but were only able to cease the madness once all three marble targets were in pieces, Ron sported a broken leg, and Harry was flung from his broom painfully.  None of the living targets ever wanted to play with him again – and Ron insisted that the charmed broomsticks even seemed reluctant – and so Mad–Eye was the first one to pre–order the twins’ mini game.

It was in the midst of a game of Broom Hunter on the day before Harry’s birthday that Hermione gasped and shrieked.  Harry turned from the targets to where Hermione was staring, but couldn’t make out any impending Death Eater attack.  She held out a shaking finger to the horizon and whispered, “owls…three of them.”  Still not understanding, she gripped his collar, pulled him barely an inch from her face, and whispered, “O.W.L. results, Harry!”  Harry smiled and broke out in laughter.

“Blimey!  Oh no…they’re definitely owls, and headed right for us!”  Ron exclaimed.

“Is that all?  Really, Hermione, O.W.L.s aren’t really all that important, you know.”  Harry teased with a smile.

“Harry, are you joking?  These examinations results will determine the course of our next years at Hogwarts, not to mention the fact that they determine which N.E.W.T.s we are eligible for…” Hermione began in a practiced lecture tone.

“Not exactly true, Hermione, they only determine which classes at Hogwarts we are eligible for.  We can sit any N.E.W.T. we want without taking a class for it.”  Hermione stopped a moment, grew broad eyed, and her face lit up with a grin.

“Oh my gosh, Harry!  I think you’re right!  Well that means that I don’t have to choose between the Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures classes; you see, of course, I wanted to stick to completing the core curriculum – Transfiguration, Charms, Defense –” Hermione started again quickly.

“Why don’t we wait for the results – after all, you might not be eligible for all of your classes without the proper O.W.L.s.”  Hermione whitened at Harry’s proclamation, and promptly shut her mouth.  Ron was looking quite nervous as the three dots on the horizon approached; Harry understood his trepidation, at least – many classes required an ‘E’ or better and Ron was usually on the verge of A/E grades.  Harry hoped his friend would qualify for all the classes he wanted.

Finally, a letter each dropped into the waiting hands of the three students.  Neither Ron nor Hermione seemed anxious to retrieve their results, so Harry tore into his and looked it over.  Mostly E’s, not terrible.  With Slughorn teaching Potions, he probably could weasel his way into the class – in fact, he was almost certain of it – but it didn’t really matter that much to him.  He was quite proud of his ‘O’ in Defense, though.  He glanced at his companions, who had now torn into their letters and were staring at the results.  Ron, predictably, had passed but not spectacularly, while Hermione had done very well and gotten almost all ‘O’s.  Harry smiled and congratulated his friends on their success.

“Well, I guess that end’s our thinking of being aurors though, don’t it?  I didn’t get the Potions O.W.L., and Snape’ll never let me in the class.”  Ron looked fairly upset.  Truthfully, Harry wasn’t sure that he wanted to be an auror, though besides playing professional Quidditch he couldn’t think of a job he’d rather do, but he knew that he could get the Potions N.E.W.T. without the class.  He also knew, however, that Slughorn would be teaching Potions this year and that he used to accept ‘E’ O.W.L.s for his classes.  Harry was also certain that Slughorn would bend over backwards to help out Harry Potter and his friend.

“Well Ron, you never know…maybe Snape kicked the bucket and Dumbledore will replace him!  Really though, if you don’t get in the class, you should buy the book and ingredients anyway and study privately; you’ll probably learn more than Snape’s class, anyway.  I’ll probably be doing that myself, actually.”  Harry told his friend.  Ron brightened considerably at this.

“Hey, yeah!  And imagine the look on Snape’s face when we get Potions N.E.W.T.s despite his best efforts, the greasy git.”  Ron’s reminder of his hatred for Snape made Harry think about the man, and truthfully he was torn.  It was quite possible that Snape was evil and working for Voldemort, having pulled the wool over Dumbledore’s eyes for years.  It was equally possible that his behavior was all an act to establish his role as a spy for the Dark Lord; this, however, didn’t make sense because everyone would have suspected Snape.  Though Voldemort hadn’t been the master of subtlety since his early days in Hogwarts when he needed to be.  Harry just didn’t know, where the Potions Master was concerned.  Harry decided to change the subject.

“And when we head to Diagon Alley later to get our books, I’ll get each of us a special gift – part of a set, you know – commemorating this momentous occasion of not failing!”  Harry had no idea what he would be getting his friends, but it sounded like a good idea – weren’t people always buying their friends commemorative quills and such nonsense?

“Are we heading into the Alley?  I wasn’t sure Dumbledore was going to let you go…” Ron began.

“Well, I haven’t been to the Alley since before my third year, so I think it’s past time that I actually go there and get a complete refill on everything, you know.  Plus, my robes are getting a bit small – only so much that stretching jinxes can do before you’d might as well just transfigure it entirely, you know.  So yeah, I’m going to head to the Alley this year, I think.  Oh, I can get myself a nice birthday present, too.”  Harry said.

“Oh yes, are you ready to be sixteen tonight, Harry?  Have you been feeling older?”  Hermione teased.

“Oh yes, actually, I think I’m past ready.  I’ve not been feeling older yet, but I’m sure that at midnight a burst of wisdom will shoot through me, along with a five inch growth spurt and chest hair.  It’ll be very exciting, I’m sure.”  Harry joked.

“Oh just wait for seventeen, mate – I’m sure you’ll get the power of Merlin handed down to you or something.  Wisdom of the ages and all that.”  Ron laughed.

Well, you got the knowledge of Voldemort and the wisdom of Tom, Harry…is that like a runner–up consolation prize?  Harry rolled his eyes at Tom.  He was, however, looking forward to his birthday.  It would be the first time that anyone would celebrate it with him, so he thought it was pretty special.  Plus, a lot of his friends from the Order would be there – even Luna, who lived so close, was coming.  He did, however, fully expect Mad–Eye to attack him.  Content in this knowledge, Harry went in to dinner at the Burrow and went to sleep, anticipating the first time anyone would ever commemorate his birth with anything other than an owl – besides Hagrid, that first year.

“Happy Birthday, Harry!”  A gaggle of people called as he descended the stairs.  He dodged Mad–Eye’s hex with a small head movement and smiled at the gathered crowd.  Most of the entire Order was present, barring only Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was still on a top secret assignment for the Ministry.

He’d seen and been friendly with almost all of the Order members in his tenure at the Burrow – unofficial Headquarters until they moved back to Grimmauld Place, and there were no plans in the works to hurry that – and so many of them insisted on coming.  Daedalus Diggle insisted on following Harry around just so that Harry could introduce him to his friends (“Harry Potter knows my name!  I’m a personal friend, of course, known him longer than anyone else in the Wizarding World!”), and Hestia Jones simply insisted that Harry come to this ball or that so that she could tout him around to her high society friends; Harry gave no assurances, but smiled politely and nodded.  Remus and Tonks were both there – Tonks narrowing her eyes dangerously when Hestia came over and was a bit too friendly with the werewolf – she was only a year behind him in Hogwarts, and had apparently harbored a crush for some time.  After she’d quickly dragged him outside by the hand, they’d come in mussed and flustered and she was much calmer.  Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape were all present, also.  Snape had come in behind Dumbledore, pointedly looked down at Harry, sneered, and ignored him the rest of the party.  Tom did notice Snape carefully eyeing Dumbledore’s withered hand, and was fairly certain that Snape was here to check on the old man’s health.  

“Harry!  Presents!”  Ron called excitedly as he tossed one at his friend’s head.  Harry grinned, it was from Ron, of course, and thanked his friend for the large box of Honeydukes chocolate.  He received a beautiful dragon–hide wand holster from Hermione and Ginny, which he very much appreciated – “Keeping it up your sleeve, honestly” – and a set of handpicked Abraxan feather quills from Hagrid; such a set would normally be enormously expensive had he not gathered them on his trip with Madame Maxime last year.  Hestia Jones had splurged and bought him a very chick robe – “The latest style, you know, and I think it would look lovely at this Yule Ball that Denise Fenwick is throwing this year…” – and Daedalus Diggle gave him a matching black cloak.  Remus and Tonks gave him a present that definitely piqued his interest: a copy of her notes from auror combat training, along with Remus’ commentary in the sidelines.  Bill and Fleur, with a wink, handed Harry a package “to open with Ron later”, and by the sound of moving liquid he guessed that meant Firewhiskey.  Moody, to nearly everyone’s surprise, took Harry’s glasses off his face and left the room, citing the need to prepare his gift.  He came back a few minutes later and told Harry, “Mind you don’t spend too much time looking through them girls’ robes, Harry,” and sauntered off with a smirk.  When Harry put back on his glasses, he realized that if he concentrated, he could look through barriers to see what lay behind them; including the robes of every female in the room.  He blushed furiously and concentrated on wanting to see all the barriers again.  Tonks, he noticed, wasn’t wearing anything under her robe – lucky Remus.  He denied any questions about Mad–Eye’s gift and tried very hard not to meet any girl he’d just seen naked in the eye.  Hmm, Barty Crouch may just have been a total pervert…

While present anyway, Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall handed out letters to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny.  Hermione, of course, obsessed over the daunting, for her, task of course selection.  Ron had a far easier choice, and took Defense, Transfiguration, Charms, and Herbology.  As Harry opened his envelope, he was pleasantly surprised to see a badge fall out – he had been made Quidditch Captain!  

“Oh, that’s wonderful, Harry!  You get almost all the responsibility of the Prefects now!  You can even use the bathroom!”  Hermione exclaimed as she saw the badge in Harry’s hand.

“Oh, good thing you’re focused on the important things, ‘Mione!”  Ron said jokingly.  She reddened slightly at the nickname, but didn’t correct him.  Ron continued, “Well, now you can put me on the team as Keeper again, mate!  Not that he’d give in to favoritism, of course, Professor…” Professor McGonagall merely quirked an eyebrow at Ron in response.

Harry grinned and focused once more on his Harry signed up for the same classes except Herbology – Tom’s uncanny memory would serve him well enough for the N.E.W.T.  Professor McGonagall looked disapprovingly at his sparse schedule, but kept her comments to herself.  Hermione decided to enroll in the maximum number of N.E.W.T. classes, but was still having trouble deciding.  Eventually, she decided to drop Care of Magical Creatures and signed up for Transfiguration, Defense, Charms, Potions, Herbology, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes.  Professor McGonagall smiled at her choices and said to them, “I will see you all in my class, then.  Good day, and happy birthday, Potter.”  She turned on her heel and followed the departing Dumbledore and Snape out of the Burrow.

“That was odd, none of them barely spoke a word and then they leave before the party’s over.  Teachers are barking!”  Ron declared, his mouth still full of cake and his speech sending it flying, and then left.  Hermione rolled her eyes at him, but didn’t disagree, and neither could Tom.

Having had the greatest birthday of his life, and proclaiming it many times over the course of the evening, he retired early to prepare for training with Moody and the scheduled trip to Diagon Alley.  Everyone else was receiving their Hogwarts letters tomorrow, and therefore they could go before the Death Eaters might expect them to purchase their school supplies.  Tom had several ideas for things that Harry needed to purchase.

Harry, you need to make a copy of the Robe.  Tom insisted.  Tom had been telling Harry for some time that Voldemort’s protective cloak was an invaluable line of defense that would help Harry if he was going to fight Death Eaters.

I don’t know Tom…all of the components are really expensive…Harry prevaricated.  Tom replied, And you just happen to have the life savings of your sacrificed parents – who’d want nothing more than for you to buy a protective device – sitting in your Gringott’s vault.  Harry couldn’t fault that.  Not to mention the fact that the cloak would certainly lift Moody’s eye in his training.

No, Harry, you do not use the robe to train.  You train without the robe, and then you are pleasantly surprised to not find yourself dead once you are actually fighting for your life while wearing the robe.  Harry admitted the reasoning was sound, and agreed to price it out to placate Tom.  Tom also seemed to think that a major shopping spree in Knockturn Alley to find some reference texts on Dark rituals was in order, but Harry drew the line there.

Tom, really!  It isn’t like I’m going there alone – I’m going to have like fifteen Order members watching the dressing room in Madam Malkin’s alone.  If they thought I was heading to Knockturn Alley, they’d probably portkey me away before I could say I was looking for a bathroom!  Tom insisted that Harry was exaggerating.  Harry knew that with his Metamorph Medal, he could likely go wherever he wanted, but he wasn’t about to betray the trust of the Order and go risk his neck for stupid reasons.

Four Order members were downstairs the next morning in preparation for Harry’s excursion to Diagon Alley.  Moody, his magical eye spinning to get a complete view of his surroundings, nodded slightly to Harry as he emerged.  Daedalus Diggle came up and excitedly shook Harry’s hand.  Remus smiled and winked, and Tonks saluted and said, “Auror Tonks, on special assignment from the Ministry, reporting for duty to protect ‘the Chosen One’ from unfriendly shopkeepers and over–exuberant fangirls.  One question, sir.”  Harry nodded for her to ask, “Just how exuberant is over–exuberant?”

“Just try to keep their skivvies away from me, Tonks.  Also, excessive tongue should be controlled.”  Harry actually looked at Tonks for a moment, “Uh, Tonks, seriously…do you really think I’ll need a bodyguard, or is this just precautionary?”  She smiled softly at him.

“I don’t know Harry, this year the paper’s been on your side and proclaiming you the Savior of the Wizarding World.  Not to mention the fact that you haven’t been out in public in three years.  I hope it’s just precautionary, but Minister Scrimgeour seems very interested in having you protected and on the Ministry’s side.”  Harry snorted, “Yeah, decent auror, but he always did let politics get in the way.”  Everyone stopped and stared at him oddly.

“Oh…uh…Dumbledore told me about him…you know, about Barty Crouch Jr. and when his dad was the Head of the DMLE…” Everyone nodded at this – his Occlumency was more than sufficient to lie believably, after all, and Harry berated himself for his slip–up.  

“Well, everyone ready for a trip to the Alley?  How are we getting there?”  Harry asked brightly.

“Floo.  Listen up, Harry.  It is possible to abduct someone on a Floo trip; watch for grabbing arms while traveling, and be sure to avoid them.  Keep your arms and legs tight against you, and be certain that you arrive at the right place.  This will be the only time you don’t have direct protection, so it’s possibly the vulnerable point in the trip.  Let’s go, I’ll be in the Alley waiting for you.  Diagon Alley.”  Moody grunted and disappeared in the green flames.  Harry stepped up, shouted “Diagon Alley”, and stepped through without a problem.  Moody had his wand in hand pointing out his sleeve, and grabbed his arm, eye spinning wildly.  He whispered, “Looks clear.  Get your hood up and follow me.”  They sat in a booth in a darkened corner of the Leaky Cauldron until the entire group materialized, and then they entered the Alley through the wall in the back together.

Where once the Alley was bright with shop fronts full of their wares and packed with wizards and witches excitedly spending the day shopping, it was now desolate and deserted.  Any wizards present – and without the traffic likely to come from Hogwarts students, there were few indeed – hurriedly bustled about their business and did not stop to loiter on the street.  It was for Harry a very real reminder that the world was at war.  Wanted posters of the escaped Death Eaters littered the windows of many shops – Bellatrix Lestrange’s face deformed by insane laughter – Dementor attacks on Muggles and Muggle–born areas occurred daily; prominent wizards and witches, even those with the full protection of the DMLE at the Ministry like Amelia Bones, were in very real danger unless they were Death Eaters.  It was not a time to trust strange wizards on the street; that was a death sentence.  And so, a somber feeling permeated the Alley – a feeling of fear and distrust.

It was a small child that first revealed his presence to the greater Alley.  “Mum, mum, it’s Harry Potter!”  The mother turned in shock to find, indeed, the Wizarding World’s Savior standing just behind her.  Harry smiled at the young girl.

“Hi there, I’m Harry.  What’s your name?”

“Cecelia.  Is you really going to get rid of You–Know–‘Oo?”  She asked with a London accent.

“Well, I don’t know about all that, but I’m sure there’s no need to be scared of him now.  If he attacks, he’d ignore you to get to me, anyway!”  Harry joked lightly.  Even Moody grunted in amusement – it was likely true, after all.  With a last smile he sent the girl off.

“Wizarding World’s Savior, honestly!  The Wizarding World wouldn’t need a savior if they bought back against the Death Eaters; its their own fault!”  Hermione was quite adamant about this, as she saw it merely as a game of numbers – thousands of wizards versus at most a hundred Death Eaters.  Tom pointed out that she might have a point, except that most wizards have things they want to protect, and it is fear that is Voldemort’s deadliest weapon.

“Ah, but it is so much easier to ignore the general state of things and continue about your day, hoping to keep those you love safe.  It is a choice between what is right and what is easy.”  Hermione looked at him oddly, and said, “You sounded just like Dumbledore there for a moment, Harry…” Harry smiled and told her, “Because I quoted him.”  Which he had, to an extent.

“Always a good idear, If yeh ask meh!”  A familiar half–giant called to him.  Harry greeted Hagrid warmly and thanked him for his extravagant birthday present.

“Ah, it was nothin’, just spares from Olympe’s horsies.  Blimey, they were jus’ gorgeous creatures, eh?”  Everyone agreed.

“Well, I’m here to be yer guard!  Jus’ like ol’ times, eh Harry?  Blimey, you was so small I coulda’ put yeh in me pocket!”  Harry ignored the fact that Hagrid very likely could still pick him up and fit him in a pocket and just smiled at his oldest friend.  They rejoined the main group, but split off again to hit different stores.  Mad–Eye, Remus, and Tonks headed off with Molly and Ginny elsewhere while Hagrid and Daedalus stayed with Hermione, Ron, and Harry.

Madam Malkin’s was Harry’s first stop – Mrs. Weasley insisted that both he and Ron had Stretching Jinxes put on them to make them grow so quickly; the girls were growing in different directions, but needed new robes all the same.

Four black school robes, two grey work robes, two lounge robes, a handsome set of black formal dress robes, one wizard hat in black and another in grey, three sets of pajamas, two new pairs of dragonhide boots, and a complete wardrobe of shirts, pants, socks, underwear, and other “Muggle–style” clothing later, Harry found himself swearing off clothes shopping for the end of his days.  Tom had absolutely insisted on a completely new wardrobe, refusing to allow Harry to dress like a drunk bum when he was the Head of two noble Houses.  Tom wanted him to burn all of his old clothes, but Harry gave them to Madam Malkin for the less fortunate incoming Hogwarts students.  The experiences from both Harry’s and Tom’s backgrounds made him feel quite good about this, and Mrs. Weasley would later give him a hug and proclaim him, “such a generous, sweet boy.”  

Harry found his congratulatory O.W.L. gifts for Ron, Hermione, and himself in the form of three very beautiful and extravagant cloaks.  A deep royal navy that was especially fetching with Ron’s hair, the fastenings were all of silver phoenixes and Harry bought them all price unseen, despite numerous objections.  He finally pulled Madam Malkin aside and placed an order for a very special set of robes.  “It is a complicated weave of materials:  exactly 20% wool cloth, 20% silk, black, 30% Swedish Short–Snout dragonhide (for a blue shimmer to the robe that would match his new cloak…), and 30% Demiguise hair.  I will also need four spools of Unicorn Hair Thread.”

“Well, Mr. Potter, that is certainly an interesting set of ceremonial robes, but it will be costly.  I’m going to have to charge you 300 galleons, and that’s doing you a favor.”  Harry smiled at her, saying, “That will be wonderful, just charge it to my vault.  Your servant, Madam.”  As he was about to walk out, Harry heard a voice come from the mirrored platform that made him pause.

“Watch where you’re sticking that pin, you bumbling oaf!”  Madam Malkin bustled off to the blond boy giving her assistant so much trouble and took over.  Draco was standing being measured in a handsome set of dark green robes; pins glistened from the many alterations needed around the hems and sleeve edges.  He noticed Harry in the mirror and spun to face him, grey eyes flashing and narrowed.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the Golden Boy Potter, deigning to grace us all with his presence today.”  He began in a drawl as he walked off the platform.

“Draco, I do hope you’re well.  That robe suits you handsomely.”  Draco took a step back in shock and Harry heard Ron’s jaw drop as he and Hermione came up behind Harry.  “Wha–” Ron started.

“Ugh, I thought I smelled something dirty, I should have known – Mudblood.”  Draco sneered as his mother and Madam Malkin came up to him; Malkin was attempting to finish the measurements and get him out of her store as soon as possible, but Draco’s moving was causing problems.

“Now really, there is no need for that kind of language –” Malkin began.  Ron had started to draw his wand, but Harry grabbed his wrist, turned and winked at him, so he put it away with a questioning stare on his face.  He gave a smile to Hermione, who also appeared skeptical of this new control of his temper.  With his Occlumency along with an absence of Voldemort in his head, it really was quite easy to control his temper.

“If you attempt to attack my son, I shall ensure it the last thing you do, boy.”  Narcissa said haughtily to Ron.

“Narcissa!  How wonderful to see you again, ma’am.”  Harry smiled as she quirked an eyebrow and scowled.

“I don’t know whether or not you’ve heard,” he started again, “but I’ve been named the Head of your family.”  She scowled more deeply and replied, “Yes, I do believe I heard that that wretched cousin somehow managed to usurp the ancient magics and pass the Head onto a non–relative, and a Mudblood at that.”  She said nastily.  Harry gave a false gasp of shock, ignoring the quip at his beloved godfather.

“A non–relative?  Surely, Narcissa, you realize that not even dearly departed Sirius, may his soul rest in peace, though a powerful wizard he was, could have broken those ancient magics.  Why, he merely named a more distant claim superior when he named me Head.  After all, my grandmother was Dorea Potter nee Black.  I’m surprised at you, Narcissa, everyone knows that the Blacks are related to all of the old Ancient and Noble Pureblood families like the Potters.”  Harry said pleasantly.  He knew from looking into her eyes that Narcissa knew this, but didn’t know that Harry knew.

“Yes, of course.  Since your grandfather, though a blood traitor, was a Pureblood, Dorea would never have been blasted off the tapestry and disowned…” She seemed to be thinking very hard.

“Of course, of course.  Well, we must be off, we’ve a very busy day of shopping ahead of us.  Cousins…” Harry knew that last remark of “cousins” would leave Draco seething.  In fact, he was quite sure that was the first time he’d ever come out on top in verbal sparring with the Slytherin.  Hermione was bursting at the seams when they left the shop.  

“Oh, Harry, that was just brilliant!”  She gushed and hugged him close.  Harry just smirked with success, but the hug brought on the monster of jealousy from Ron, who clearly didn’t understand what had transpired.

“What’s so great about that?  You let them insult you and Hermione and Sirius, and you just smiled and walked away!”  Ron sounded very much like he wanted nothing more than to curse Draco so that he wouldn’t have been able to walk away.

“Ah, but what was the purpose of his taunts, Ron?”

“To be a stuck–up prick like usual.”

“Possibly, but quite a bit more likely to rile our tempers and get us to curse him; he would then bear witness in front of the Wizengamot and voila, we’re expelled and our wands snapped.  However, knowing that I couldn’t curse the stuffing out of him, I beat him at his own game.  What is Malfoy’s worst fear?  Losing the prestige of his family, I’d bet.  So I let him know that I, a dirty rotten Mudblood, am the Head of his mother’s family; with his dad in Azkaban, I’d bet I could pull some strings and have her and him pulled from the Malfoy family and take their wealth.  It’d be way too much of a pain in the arse to do it, but I could, and he knows it.”  Ron almost seemed to follow Harry, and smiled at the thought of stealing Malfoy’s money.  Harry then noticed the empty ice cream store and wand shop.  When questioned, Ron shook his head sadly.

“Yeah, I heard dad talking about it – both of them just up and disappeared one night during the shift change.  All alone in the Alley, just the two of them, and then, quick as you like, both gone.”  Harry narrowed his eyes in thought – more pieces for this increasingly complex puzzle.

What is Voldemort doing?  Two shop owners?  Is it really just random attacks?  Practice for a larger assault on the Alley?  He conversed to himself.

I am not convinced, Harry.  I would suspect they were taken for a reason.  Tom added.

But what does Voldemort need with an ice cream salesman and a wand maker?  His wand is already very powerful, Ollivander himself told me it was one of the most powerful he’d ever made!  Harry would consider this later –  he needed to keep himself aware of his surroundings for now.  Constant Vigilance.

The three bought all of their books for the new classes – Harry and Ron both purchasing the required Potions text and Harry buying another book on Potions ingredients and preparations specifically.  That book was given to all beginning Slytherins and was one reason they all had such a firm grasp on the subject; Tom was probably just barely a Potions Master – it was one of his weaker subjects – but was quite well versed in poisons; likely better than any but Snape, who was a prodigy.  Harry intended to give the book to Ron to better his friend’s skills.  Ron questioned why Harry didn’t spend much time in the Defense section, but Harry knew that almost all of the texts were quite amateurish, and no book except a special order could teach Tom anything new.  They all picked up their potions ingredients – Harry a deluxe set featuring much greater quantities than he would need for mere classroom work – at the nearest apothecary and then bought owl pellets at the Owl Emporium, all the while making their way to Fred and George’s shop.

Whereas the other shops of Diagon Alley were austere and decidedly sober, Fred and George’s shop, Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, was anything but.  This was the only place in the alley where passerbys stopped to take a second look at the shop, which managed to clash with itself.  The left window was filled with popping, whirling, steaming, screaming devices and fireworks erupted in it every few moments.  The right window had but one poster with an enormous purple and flashing yellow poster reading:

Why are you worrying about
You–Know–Who?
You should be worrying about
U–No–Poo –
The Constipation Sensation
That’s gripping the nation!

Harry couldn’t help but first chuckle and then laugh softly at the twins.  If Voldemort saw this sign…Harry would very much have liked to see the Dark Lord’s face when and if he does…

“They’ll be murdered in their beds!”  Hermione whispered frantically, looking pale as she glanced around as though searching for Death Eaters.

“Nah, I’m sure ol’ Voldi would think its hilarious!”  She looked at him as though he were crazy; of course, most people with voices in their head are crazy, so by standard definitions this was an appropriate look.  He merely grinned and opened the door, gesturing her inside with a flourish of his hand.  Both Hagrid and Daedalus looked excited to enter the shop.  It was packed with customers – another first for the Alley – and Harry was once again forced to question just how smart the twins really were; not to mention shrewd…they’d have made perfect Slytherins, according to Tom.

Harry walked past display after display, touting Skiving Snackboxes that he well remembered from the Hogwarts common room, Nosebleed Nougat was popular – he wondered if should send a box to Katie Bell in memory of her time on the Quidditch Pitch last year – grinning, he picked up a box.  Trick wands, charmed quills, and a reusable hangman that drew a younger crowd were all past as he made his way admiringly around the shop.  He found Hermione analyzing the “Patented Daydream Charms”.  She looked critically at what must have been some details and came to the conclusion, as did Harry, that it was a complicated bit of magic; indeed, he wondered at how they overcame the Arithmentical difficulties inherent with preferences – it would be easy to make everyone see the same thing, but people often wanted very different things in their fantasies.  He only knew of a few tricks to do that even with years of Arithmancy; he once again reconsidered their brilliance.  

“You know, that really is rather extraordinary magic!”  She said distractedly, probably pondering the Arithmancy.

“For that compliment, dear Hermione, you get one on us!”  Fred and George somehow appeared behind her, and she smiled in greeting.  They wore matching magenta robes that clashed perfectly with their hair and complexion.  Harry smiled at them and smacked their shoulders in greeting.  

“Come on Harry, we’ve got some stuff to show you.”  The twins led him to the back, where he passed a display of Muggle magic tricks.

“We figure dad can’t be alone in liking Muggle stuff, huh?  It’s a niche market, but we do steady business.  Come through the back, Harry, that’s where the real galleons are pressed.”  They proceeded further past a thin curtain beside the Muggle tricks to reveal a set of products with less flashy packaging.  At first glance, they looked to be regular cloaks, gloves, and hats in a clothing store, even if they were all black; but the raised hair on the back of Harry’s neck gave him the suspicion of enchantments.

“These,” George began proudly with the hats, “are Shield Hats.  You’d be amazed at how many employees at the Ministry can’t even do a proper Shield Charm – guess they didn’t have you teaching ‘em, mate.  Fred and I thought it’d be a laugh, you know, watch your friends jinx you and have it bounce back at ‘em; the Ministry saw the idea and straight away ordered five hundred of ‘em for all their support staff!  They liked the Shield Cloaks even more, and we had to make a batch in Auror Red!  We ran with the idea and developed a whole Defense line – these gloves are new, see?  And this stuff’s cool, Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder – handy for an escape.”  Fred picked up where his twin left off by pointing to another few shelves filled with three–pronged balls that were sort of vibrating off the shelves.

“Are those cloaks wool?”  Harry asked abruptly.

“Uh…no, they’re just broadcloth.”  George said questioningly.

“You’ll get better luck with wool.  Shielding charm seems to stick better to wool.”  Harry offered no explanation for his knowledge and, seeing that this would be the case, George merely nodded thoughtfully and pulled out a small notebook and wrote it down.

“And our Decoy Detonators are walking off the shelves – literally, we’ve had a few explosions – drop one and it’ll run off to make a distraction.”  Fred must have seen the interested glint in Harry’s eyes, for he shoved a handful into Harry’s arms.  Harry reached for his gold purse, but was stopped by George.

“No way, Harry, you don’t pay for anything here,” George began as he noticed.  Harry used a bit of wandless levitation to plant ten galleons into the twins’ own money pouch without him noticing, “You gave us our startup loan and we’ll never forget it.  Take what you want.”  George finished.

“Thanks guys.”  He perused the section more as a girl with short blonde hair and magenta employee robes called the twins away.  He performed several Undetectable Extension Charms on some bags and filled it up with ten galleons worth of Detonators and bags of Instant Darkness Powder.

Harry exited the room to see that Mrs. Weasley and her group had joined them in the shop.  Ginny was with Hermione looking at the WonderWitch display – a gross line of pink–boxed items – and Pygmy Puffs, whatever those were.  He was standing near Ron and the windows when he noticed Draco Malfoy hurrying down the Alley, glancing frequently over his shoulder.

“Look, Ron, its Malfoy.”

“Looks like he’s lost his mum; given her the slip, more like…”  Ron glanced at Harry, who nodded wordlessly as they slipped underneath his Invisibility Cloak – which he carried with him constantly, on Dumbledore’s orders – and followed Malfoy.  The twins had sequestered Moody to critique their Defense line, so he was no threat, and the rest of the Order – even Diggle and Hagrid outside – were oblivious to their presence thanks to Harry’s wandless Silencing Charms.  

Malfoy, predictably, headed right for Knockturn Alley, Harry and Ron close behind.  Knockturn Alley was even more deserted than most of Diagon Alley; these were dark times, and any time spent in shady company was bound to arouse suspicion.  The pompous blonde entered Borgin and Burke’s, and the boys entered right behind him; Tom knew well every ward and charm on the shop’s door, and it was less than simple to arrive unnoticed.

“I need to repair the Vanishing Cabinet that matches the one in your shop.”  He said shortly.

“Is that so?  I had thought it lost.”  Borgin began slowly.

“Well I found it!  But it’s broken, so do you know how to fix it?”  Draco continued impatiently.

“Possibly,” Borgin wavered, “But I’d need to see it.  Can you bring it here?”

“No.  It has to stay put.  You just tell me how to do it.”  Malfoy said, drawing a hard line.  He obviously thought he was in charge, but Tom’s intimate knowledge of Borgin – who was merely a less talented clone of his father – told him that Borgin knew who had the upper hand here.

“Well without seeing it, Master Malfoy, it will be a most challenging job.  Perhaps impossible.  I certainly couldn’t guarantee you anything.”  Harry, staring harshly into Draco’s eyes, saw his thoughts, though Draco had apparently studied some Occlumency – Bella’s doing, Tom added.

No, must work…save family…last chance.  Draco’s thoughts were muddled slightly as he tried to drive them from his mind.

“Well maybe this will show you the price of failure!”  Drawing up his sleeve, Harry put silencing charms all around Ron, and the redhead swore when he saw the Dark Mark clearly visible on Draco’s left arm.  Borgin paled slightly; Tom had some satisfaction in learning that the mere shopkeeper still kept proper fear of the Dark Lord – Voldemort had never liked Borgin.

“Fenrir Greyback will be dropping in to check on your progress.  Oh, and tell anyone and he’ll be coming hungry.  He’s a family friend.  I’ll be off now, be sure to keep that one safe,” Malfoy motioned to the Cabinet in the shop.

“Perhaps you’d like to take it with you now?”  Borgin said as he licked his lips.

“No, you stupid little man, how do you think I would look, carrying that down the Alley.  I’ll be in touch, Borgin.”  Malfoy pulled his cloak tight around him, stopping only to look closely at an exquisite opal necklace for a few moments, and then walked out of the shop.  Harry, once again performing charms to make them unnoticed, followed him out, dragging Ron along.  He went to a deserted corner and lifted the silencing charms from Ron when Draco was out of hearing range.

“Did you see that, Harry!  The bloody Dark Mark! He’s –” Ron started before Harry shut him up.

“Yes, I did, Ron.  And we’re keeping this to ourselves, only telling Hermione.  All of this, don’t tell a soul!  And especially don’t let Malfoy know what you know!  His plans might change, and then we’ll have no idea how to stop him.”  Ron initially looked outraged, but then the light of recognition hit his eyes and he grinned ferociously.

“Yeah…yeah, he’ll think his plans going off perfect, and then ‘wham!’ we’re all ready for him!”  Ron seemed very excited at the thought at ruining Malfoy’s plan.

“Exactly, Ron.  But you have to let on like you don’t know anything – if he suspects it’s a bust, we’re ruined.”  Ron distractedly muttered, “Of course” and they slipped back under the cloak and inside the Weasleys’ shop, where the ‘reappeared’.

“There you two are!  We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”  Hermione grabbed Ron’s arm.

“Oh well, we’ve been here,” Ron started, but Hermione looked firm.  Harry whispered, “We’ll tell you in private.”  And she looked skeptical but nodded.

Shopping trip completed, they made their way back to Tom at the Leaky Cauldron, where Harry insisted on buying lunch for everyone in thanks – Tom looked decidedly brighter at this announcement, for his business was as slow as the Alley’s.

Returning to the Burrow, Hermione immediately cornered the boys in Harry’s room.

“So, spill.  Where were you?”  She demanded.

“We followed Malfoy into Knockturn Alley.  Borgin and Burke’s, to be specific…” Harry told her all about their trip and discoveries, and she was quite the appreciative audience, gasping in all the right places.  When Ron informed her of his plan to keep their knowledge secret and foil his plans without Draco knowing, she looked at him in a rather hungry manner, Harry thought.

“Oh Ron, that’s brilliant!  I’m so glad you’re finally getting control of your temper – really, using your temper is much more effective when you execute a plan!”  She said as she hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek.  Ron blushed furiously, as did Hermione, but they both wore dopey grins the rest of the day.  Harry called them together to contemplate Voldemort’s plans, as he was stuck, himself.

“So what does Voldemort want?”  Harry asked, pacing.

“The Wizarding World, mate.”  Harry stopped at this, considering.  He then nodded and added to it.

“And he wants it forever.”  Ron and Hermione seemed confused – Harry had no way to know about Horcruxes yet, so he hadn’t told them.

“Now, I’m not a real threat to him taking over the world – I have no political power or anything like that, only Dumbledore does.”  Harry’s eyes widened.  That was it.  Voldemort had two goals, and one barrier to each of them.  Dumbledore was a powerful political figure; the prophecy stated Harry’s death as the key to Voldemort’s immortality.  Right now, Voldemort was ignoring Harry, who had proved troublesome over the past few years, and was going after Dumbledore and the government.

“Dumbledore?  I thought he was the only one You–Know–Who was afraid of?”  Ron said confused.  Voldemort was going after Dumbledore, and Dumbledore, if Harry’s suspicions about the nature of the curse affecting him were correct as he feared they were, had already signed his own death warrant.

“Everyone has to face their fears eventually, Ron.  We just have to be ready for when he does.”  Harry said ominously.  Ron and Hermione looked fearful, but Harry set his jaw and looked determined.  He resigned himself to the eventually that both he and Tom knew, and he feared:  Dumbledore would fall, likely from the curse, and Harry would be all that was left between Voldemort and the Wizarding World.  Now all Harry had to do was figure out where the heck Malfoy had a Vanishing Cabinet and how that fit into the puzzle.

Harry spent the entire month of August training.  Moody, Tonks, Fleur, Remus, and Bill all had great fun taking turns teaching Harry – even Professor McGonagall showed up one afternoon and, over tea, discussed some improvements he could have made to his transfigurations, which she complemented him on, and mentioned additional ways he could implement transfiguration in duel.

“In an empty yard like this, for instance, Transfiguration plays a lesser role for the amateur, due to the need to conjure up base materials with which to work.  However, in a theater such as a cluttered room, the transfigurationist truly begins to shine.  Tables, when given jaws, sharp claws, and animated to attack the opponent, provide crucial distractions as well as damaging your opponent.  Other materials provide cover for you as needed, protecting even from the otherwise unstoppable Killing Curse.  I have been impressed with your progress, Potter, and hope that it continues in the classroom.”  He gave her an easy smile to reassure her – it must have been quite reminiscent of her favorite student James Potter, because she even returned a small grin to him – and she made her excuses to leave.

Moody, or Alastor, as he insisted his young protégé call him, was the ringleader of it all.  Indeed, he seemed to act the proud father to Harry at times, grinning madly as Order members commented on Harry’s amazing progress.  When the Order attempted to surprise Harry by sneaking into the Burrow at night to attack him, they instead found themselves having to break down wards and dodging cover as Harry flung spells expertly; Harry would swear the next morning that Alastor had tears of joy rolling down his cheeks.  Integrating Tom’s skills and dueling tactics, while time–consuming, had turned Harry into a fearsome opponent; he could hold his own and even occasionally get the best of Moody.  The crafty old auror almost always had tricks up his sleeve for when he was finally bested, but this time, the day before Harry would board the Hogwarts Express, Harry was determined to win.

“Bombarda!”  Harry forcefully barreled down Moody’s Absolvo shield with an impressive display of magical might; that was one area where Harry found that he eventually overtook the old auror in early August.  Moody flung a curse back at Harry – a Bone Shattering Curse, Moody held no punches – but Harry batted it aside as easily as one might an annoying fly, a trick learned from Voldemort that Moody was initially floored to see.  Harry silently sent a few hexes to keep Moody on his toes, but when the familiar Imprimis shield rose to block Harry’s Bludgeoning Hex with a ‘gong’, Harry pulled his ace.

“Telum Conicio!”  A bolt of red tore from Harry’s wand and rushed to impact the shield – Harry didn’t wait for it to connect as he shot off a neon blue spell, “Soporo!” that he knew Moody had never seen before, as he’d finished work on it that morning.  The red bolt of light, when it went partially through the Imprimis shield, turned into a steaming railroad spike that rendered the shield useless, clearing the way for Harry’s blue spell.  When it hit Moody, the auror dropped unconscious, and Harry began to strip his body of unknown gadgetry, starting with his wand.  Moody often spelled contingencies – extremely tricky little spells – that would kill his opponent if, in fact, he was killed.  Harry smirked as he felt the wards pop up around the body, and viciously overloaded them as he channeled energy through his wand at the protective circle.  He broke through, cracking the stone on a new necklace he’d noticed around Alastor’s neck, and tore the chain off his neck, sending it flying into the pond.  Revealing spells led him to tear off a few rings and a circlet that Moody claimed held his hair out of his eyes.  Activating his charmed glasses to see through barriers, he smirked as he removed a nondescript rock from Moody’s underwear – it had been this that caught him last time, when he’d been unwilling to perform a thorough enough search on his grizzled teacher; live and learn.  After several more complex revealing spells ended by the potent Specialis Revelio, Harry determined that, if the veteran auror had somehow hidden an enchanted item, he had no idea how he did it.  Sighing in preparation for another unexpected painful lesson, Harry bound his teacher in powerful black magic vines and put him in the full body curse with a Conligo Totalus, and finally awakened him from Harry’s personal stunning modification.  He employed it often on Moody because the auror had, astonishingly, become nearly immune to the standard stunning spell.  After being knocked to the ground and unconscious for a few seconds, the he would awaken to curse Harry right back when he least expected it.  Upon awakening, the auror screwed his eyes up slightly, his magical eye spinning crazily to take stock of his situation.  Then, after another moment attempting to struggle against the curses that held him tightly bound, he grinned.

“Excellent work, Harry!  I accept defeat at the hands of a well–prepared enemy.  Now lift these damned curses.”  Moody ended gruffly.  Harry grinned, removing the bonds but keeping him under the Full Body Bind.

“Know that if you were an enemy, I wouldn’t have woken you up in the first place.”  Harry said cruelly.  Moody nodded.  When the curse was let up he grinned and went up to Harry with his arm extended.  Harry shook his hand; Moody attempted to force Harry to the ground, but Harry’s weeks of training had paid off and he kept standing.  

“Very good, Harry.  I’m so proud of you.”  Moody hugged the boy tightly.  Harry felt slightly awkward in the embrace, but hugged Moody back.

“Really, Harry, I’m serious.  I was hard on you this summer, but you rose to the challenge like I’d never imagined.  If you had a mind to, you could duel almost every auror to the floor; dueling isn’t Tonks’ specialty, but you’ve been besting her for weeks now, and just the other day you drew even against both her and Remus.  Harry, you have a real talent for this, and it was a joy to teach you.”  Harry could have actually believed that Moody had been teary–eyed.  Moody led them both back into the Burrow, where he led Harry to a sheet covering a round object.

“I got something for you, since you completed your training with me.  It’s a Foe–Glass, I know you know how they work.  Anyway, I thought you might like it.”  Moody said.

“Thanks, Alastor, I really appreciate it, it’s very generous of you.”  Looking into the glass, he saw a large crowd of faces – well, no new information, but not exactly spirit–lifting.

“Crowded in there, eh, boy?  Don’t worry, you’ll pull through just fine, I think.  Good luck at school – give a kick to those little mini–Death Eaters from me!”  Moody called with a fierce grin as he left the Burrow.  Despite feeling that he’d be much less sore every day without the influence of the clinically insane ex–auror, Harry found that he’d miss his time spent with Alastor.  The insane stick together, after all, Harry thought wryly.  Shaking his head in mirth, he carried his new Foe Glass upstairs to his trunk.  He’d began going through yesterday, discarding old parchments and broken quills.  When he came to the broken two–way mirror, a quick Reparo with as much magic channeled into it as he could manage repaired the mirror to its unblemished state.  He laid it reverently with several of his other items.  A quick scourgify and the trunk was like brand new on the inside; the outside was still battered from years of Harry’s use and abuse.

With so many new clothes, Harry decided to just expand his trunk magically to make more room.  He ended up with three sections:  Robes, Muggle clothes, and everything else.  His magical items, like the two–way mirror from Sirius, the fanged wallet from Hagrid, the Pocket Sneakoscope Ron gave him before his third year, and his selection of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes joined the massive collection of textbooks he’d collected – which he organized with a shelf in his expanded trunk.  The photo album of his parents received a reverent placement on the end, while his school textbooks were placed according to year.

“Harry, you really should start packing, you know, no need to leave it all for tom – oh, right…guess you already started, then.”  Hermione looked sheepish as Harry prevented one of her lectures.

“Yeah, I’m all set…but I reckon Ron could use some help going through his shorts, eh?”  Harry joked; Hermione blushed and rolled her eyes, walking out of the room muttering.

Turning back to his trunk, he nicely folded his robes and placed them inside next.  His green dress robes he’d transfigured to fit him again – they really did match his eyes – and were laid next to his new dress robes.  Underneath his grey work robes – he’d kept several from the previous year as well for a total of four – lay the special “ceremonial” robes prepared for him by Madam Malkin.  A shimmering black with just a tinge of blue from the dragon hide, the robes were quite majestic.  Harry reflected back on the day he’d finished the protective enchantments on the robe.

He’d done some practice work on the three matching cloaks, fortifying them with only the equivalent of a Fortis Aegis shield and returning them to his friends, but this robe was his masterpiece, with many enchantments laid upon it.  He began with the most basic protective elements and worked his way upward.  Tying the spells to runes he wove with the Unicorn hair thread made them essentially permanent.  Salvio Hexia, Cave Inimicum, Protego Totalum, and Protego Horribilis formed the first layer of spells, followed by Impervius, Animadversio Amplifico, the Supersensory Charm that would allow him to better sense his surroundings, and a Cushioning Charm, should he ever be tossed around; Harry also enlarged the pockets of the robe at this stage.  The most powerful layer was an Absolvo Ancile shield that was tied directly to the power rune Uruz; this setup, while not as traditional as tying it to the classic defensive rune Thurisaz, was experimented with by Tom and found to increase the power and lifetime of the enchantments significantly.  Harry was completely exhausted by the time he’d finished, and ended up retiring to bed just after dinner.

Harry finished putting all of the clothes away just in time for Ron and Ginny to pull him away for a final game of Quidditch before they left for Platform 9 ¾ the next morning.  

The next morning, a crowd gathered outside the Burrow as everyone waited for the Ministry cars – Harry was in their good graces again – to show up.  Trunks and pets lay in front of the students and were quickly loaded by the auror escorts after the two black cars arrived.  

“Au revoir, ‘Arry!  ‘Ave a good term!”  Fleur told him, kissing him on the cheeks; he smiled and hugged her back before climbing into the car with Hermione.  Ron dreamily drifted towards Fleur to get his own kiss before Ginny tripped him and shoved him into the car.  

“Quick, quick, through the barrier!”  Mrs. Weasley hissed as they pulled up to the crowded Muggle station.  Harry was on full alert in case of an attack – Tom thought that it was quite an attractive target for Voldemort, of course – but they made it through the barrier without any incident besides one auror grabbing Harry’s arm.  Harry gave him one of Tom’s coldest glare before fixing his shirt and hauling his trunk onto the train.  He came back out to say goodbye to Mrs. Weasley, who smothered him in a hug.

“Oh, you take care, Harry dear.  You’ll come home with us for Christmas, so we’ll see you quite soon.”  Harry smiled and nodded at the smothering woman, retreating to the train as she said farewell to her own children.

“You’ll save us a seat in your compartment, won’t you Harry?  Ron and I have a Prefect meeting to be at…” Hermione looked apologetic, but Harry just smiled and reassured her that he’d find a compartment for them all.  Since they’d arrive fairly early, he found an empty one and dragged the three trunks he assumed responsibility for into the compartment with him.  A silent Reducio made his own trunk small enough for him to shove into his pocket, which he did, and then lightened Ron and Hermione’s before lifting them into the overhead luggage rack.  It was Tom’s advice that he integrate more magic into his everyday activities so that his reserve of magic wouldn’t atrophy, and Harry was beginning to appreciate the convenience of it.

He greeted many of the D.A. members as they passed, and most returned the greeting brightly; one, however, made him concerned.

“Hey Katie,” he called to the pretty blonde Gryffindor Chaser.  She looked up at him and, quite frankly, she looked terrible.  Her face had a rather gaunt look to it, as though she hadn’t been eating properly; her eyes were bright with recent tears, and he was forlornly dragging her trunk behind her.

“Hi, Harry.  Is this compartment free?  I’ve no one to sit with…” Harry opened the door with a flourish and helped his teammate with her trunk.  When she sat down, he took the seat next to her and, drawing on Tom’s charisma to help him, he attempted to comfort the girl.  Placing an arm on her shoulder, he asked in a gentle voice, “So Katie, what’s the matter?  What happened?”  Her eyes watered with fresh tears.

“Well, Harry…its just…there was an attack.”  Harry’s face fell – how was he supposed to comfort someone over the death of a loved one; well, he supposed he had personal experience to draw on…

“I was visiting my dad’s parents with my mum – she was a Pureblood, but my dad's sister was getting married and she and I were going to be Bridesmaids.  Anyway, we were in an all Muggle area, and then there was an attack."  Harry rubbed the girl's back gently in an attempt to soothe her.

"Well, they were just Muggles, you know?  They couldn't possibly have fought back.  So mum and I, we draw our wands and start shooting back; mum wasn't bad with a wand, but thanks to the D.A. I was a lot better than her...which was surprising, you know?  Well, it was awful – the Death Eaters all focused on us once they realized we were shooting back.  Mum got hit by a Killing Curse.  It was the Underage Wizardry garbage that saved me, odd enough; they saw Dark magic around an Underage witch – I didn't turn 17 until August, and this was the end of June – and they sent out some aurors to arrest me or something.  Well they ended up calling in a bunch of aurors, and the Death Eaters ran off.  The Obliviators come in to deal with the Muggles and this nice brown haired auror takes me to the Ministry to ask what happened.  My dad's whole family was killed, along with my mum...I – I'm lucky to be alive.  I shouldn't be alive, really...I'm certainly not a better witch than my mum..." Tears overtook Katie again as Harry pulled her into a full hug as she cried on his shoulder.  

"It's okay, Katie, it'll be alright.  I know its hard to deal with.  I lost my godfather in June, too, when Death Eaters killed him.  For a long time I thought about nothing but getting back at them, hurting them like they hurt me...I was in a bad place.  But I realized that Sirius would've wanted me to enjoy life, live to the fullest, you know?  He would have wanted me to snog a bunch of girls and play a bunch of pranks on Snape, so I have to live for him."  Katie had stopped crying now and Harry was just rubbing her hand, sitting next to her.

"I...I decided that I want to be an auror, Harry, after the attack."  Harry's eyes hardened.

"Is this about revenge?  The Death Eaters, most of them, are crazy, Katie – even if you kill their wives or children, they wouldn't care."  This was certainly true in Bellatrix's case, though she might regret Rodolphus' death, she certainly wouldn't be torn over it; however, most Death Eaters were human, as Tom well knew.

"No, its just...that nice auror, she helped me so much, and I'd like to help others out like that.  I've always been good at school, and I think I can get the N.E.W.T.s if I work hard enough."  Katie had a steely resolve in her eyes, and Harry smiled kindly at her.

"You know, I've thought about becoming an auror myself; why don't we do a bit of training together, you know...a little bit of dueling, reading about what exactly aurors do...maybe some Potions work or something..." Harry didn't want to just work on dueling because he knew he was far above the girl, but felt that she could use a friend right now.

"I'd really like that, thanks Harry."  She had brightened considerably, and when she looked down at Harry's hand, still rubbing hers comfortingly, he just smirked and slowly removed it, keeping his other arm on her shoulder and back.  The two began to relax, Katie borrowing Harry's Practical Defensive Magic and Harry taking a brief look at his new Advanced Potion Making text, when they were interrupted.

"Harry!  There you are!  Room in the compartment here?"  Neville and Luna burst open the door.  Harry smiled broadly and welcomed them.

"Neville, mate!  Good to see you.  And you look well, Luna.  Thank you for that subscription to the Quibbler this summer – I really enjoyed working on the Rune Puzzle.  You all know Katie, of course."

"Hello Kathryn.  I'm glad you enjoyed daddy's magazine, Harry.  He'll be pleased.  Were you able to figure out the Rune Puzzles?  I didn't know you took Ancient Runes."  Katie, as it turned out, did take Ancient Runes, and said that most of the Quibbler's puzzles were at N.E.W.T. level, and looked at Harry questioningly.

"Well, I just kept the book open, you know...learning as I went along.  Really fascinating stuff, Runes.  Makes me wish I took the class."  Katie casually offered to teach him some rudimentary runework and when she did, a slow smile spread over Luna's face.

"I had a great summer, Harry, loads of excitement.  After the Ministry, Gran was really proud of me and how I'd gone along, she said my dad would've done it.  Anyway, she got me a new wand and everything!  Cherry and Unicorn tail hair, 12".  One of the last Ollivander made, I reckon, he disappeared the next day."  Neville whipped out his wand excitedly, but as he bumbled with it, a loud 'BANG' sounded and Harry saw his Potions book erupt in flames.  Neville's eyes widened and he attempted to put out the flames, but Harry wandlessly summoned his wand from its holster on his wrist to his hand and a simple, "Aguamenti" put out the flames.

"Oh my gosh, Harry, I'm so sorry!"  Neville started.  Harry just smiled and waved it off – the textbook was practically unchanged from the one he knew back in 1944.

"Don't worry about it, Neville, I'm not even taking Potions.  No worries!"  He did a quick cleaning charm and a drying charm on the burned book.  Only the cover remained unmarred.  Putting the book back in his trunk, Harry nearly missed Luna’s next question, “Are you going to continue the D.A. again this year, Harry?”  Harry had, with Tom, debated this for a long time.  Harry thought that it was purely an anti–Umbridge development, but Tom thought that it was worthwhile, not to mention enjoyable.

“Well, Luna, I thought about it, but really the D.A. was made because of Umbridge.  However, I think that I’ll be spending many of my evenings in the Room of Requirement practicing spells, and any members of the D.A. are certainly welcome to join me.  And if the new Defense teacher happens to be incompetent – if that wouldn’t be a shocking development – then we’re in a perfect position to continue the D.A.  We probably wouldn’t even have to be secretive about it without a psycho intent on us not learning anything.”  Luna looked pleased at this and said, “Then I shall join you there, Harry – it’ll be like having real friends.”  Harry turned to her and grew serious.

“I am your friend, Luna.  You did me a big favor going to the Ministry with me, and I can’t forget that.  I’ll always be your friend.”  She smiled dreamily, and Harry, had he looked, would have seen a slightly wistful look on Katie’s face.  An opening of the door drew Harry’s attention – he expected Malfoy to barge in any time, but it was a bit early in the train ride for his appearance, it seemed.  Instead, a group of giggling fourth–year girls was revealed, all of them whispering together on the other side of the glass.

“You ask him!”

“No, you!”

“I’ll do it!”  Declared a bold girl with large dark eyes and black hair.  She pushed her way through the door.

“Hi.  Harry, I’m Romilda, Romilda Vane.”  She began confidently – Harry thought he’d heard in Teen Witch Weekly that he was attracted to confident women, “Why don’t you join my friends and me in our compartment?  You don’t have to sit with them you know…” She spoke in a stage whisper and ended with a sultry wink.  At the last word she was gesturing to his friends; Neville was trying to keep Trevor away from the pile of ash that used to be his Potions book, while Luna was staring at him through Spectrespecs, which Harry himself had received in the last issue of the Quibbler.  It was a pity he hadn’t kept them so he could put them on now to match Luna, he thought.

“Actually, I saved this compartment for my close friends, several of whom joined me.  Thank you for the offer, but I much prefer to stay where I am.”  Romilda looked floored.

“Oh…oh.  Okay, then.  Whatever.” And she withdrew, sliding the door closed once more.

“People expect you to have cooler friends than us.”  Luna said frankly.  Harry just grinned at her.

“First, if the world had everything they expected, last year I’d have been a psychotic, unstable lunatic.  Though I’ll grant that last year may not have showcased my stability, I do hope I wasn’t all that bad.”  Neville cut in with a joking, “I don’t know, there were a few times…” Before Harry continued.

“Plus, it takes a certain kind of person to be a close friend to me.  Some might say a suicidal person, but I say a strong person.  I wouldn’t fancy seeing Romilda Vane and the gaggle of birds back there take on a single Death Eater, and yet how many did we face at the Ministry?  That says a lot about my friends, Luna.”  Harry finished.  Luna smiled with the first sincere smile Harry’d ever seen on her face, and looked to be slightly teary–eyed.

“We didn’t face Him, though,” Neville added.  “You did, and I can’t imagine it.  You should hear Gran talk about you.  ‘That Harry Potter’s got more backbone than the whole Ministry of Magic put together!’  I bet she’d give anything to have you as her grandson.”  Neville didn’t seem to be embarrassed, but Harry almost heard the downtrodden spirit in his voice.

“Well, Neville, I bet a lot of people would say the same about you – you were the only one right there with me, even against Bellatrix Lestrange.  You were the last one standing.  Don’t make it sound as if that’s nothing, because I certainly think it is.”  Neville reddened noticeably.  Katie looked astonished at all of this.

 

“So that’s what really happened in the Ministry?  Wow…it’s just so unbelievable.  I mean, I thought the Prophet was just selling papers, but…why lie when the truth is so…much better than the lies?”  She finished awkwardly.  Harry chuckled at her eloquence.

“Yeah, I guess it all does sound kinda fantastic when told like this, doesn’t it.  It was terrifying, though – most scared I’ve ever been.  Particularly because it wasn’t just my life I thought I’d thrown away – I very nearly got all my friends killed.”  The compartment looked somber at this.  Small talk was just starting to rise when the door opened once more to reveal Hermione and a grinning Ron.

"Hey Neville, Luna, how are you all?  Hey Harry, you'll never guess who didn't show up in the Prefect car – Malfoy!  Reckon he got sacked after all that Inquisitorial Squad nonsense?"  The thought of taking points of a helpless Malfoy was obviously inducing Ron's euphoria.

"Oh honestly, Ron!  He was told to do those things, horrible as they were, by an authority at the time.  Unfortunately I don't think that he could be punished for it.  But it did seem odd that he didn't show up.  Either he's neglectful of his duties, his grades slipped and it was taken from him, or he gave it up."  Despite the fact that Malfoy was a git, his private tutoring in the summers ensured that he was an excellent student, so Harry expected that failing O.W.L.s were not the answer.  A red–faced third year popped her face in and nervously handed Harry and Neville identical scrolls of parchment tied with violet ribbon.  Extravagantly loopy and elaborate handwriting, along with the personal seal of Horace Slughorn, meant that Tom knew the Slug Club had reformed.

Every year when Slughorn taught, he invited his favorite students to lunch with him personally.  Tom had always asserted his authority over the Club by bringing his junior Death Eaters uninvited along with himself.  Sure enough, the invitation hadn't changed in fifty years.

Harry,

I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C.

Sincerely,
Professor H. E. F. Slughorn

"Hey, it doesn't say we can't bring friends, does it?  How about we all head down there and see what's going on?"  Hermione looked horrified at the idea of possibly disregarding a Professor's wishes.

"I don't know, Harry...maybe it should just be you and Neville...we weren't invited, after all..." Harry knew she desperately wanted to go, but rule–breaking was always something Hermione needed prodding for.

"Nonsense, I'm not going unless you all accompany me.  Now let's go."  When Katie made no move to get up – obviously she thought Harry only meant for Ron, Hermione, and Luna to accompany him – Harry offered his arm to her and grinned.  Hermione looked at the interaction curiously, but Harry offered no explanation.

Making their way to Compartment C, Harry waltzed in first, Katie on his arm.  Slughorn immediately ignored the student he was conversing with to greet Harry warmly.

"Harry, my boy!  Brilliant to see you, I'm so pleased you could make it today!  And who is this lovely young lady?"  Slughorn looked positively thrilled to meet anyone arriving on Harry's arm.  His velvet–covered belly bounced as he strolled up, his reflective pate and silver mustache gleamed as brightly as the golden buttons on his waistcoat.

"Professor Slughorn, might I present Ms. Kathryn Bell."  Slughorn took her proffered hand and kissed the back of it lightly.

"A pleasure, my dear.  Ah, and you seem to have brought your friends, Mister Potter!"  He smiled at Harry indulgently, the exact way he once smiled at the promising Tom Riddle, and Harry introduced everyone.

"Yes, these are all my close friends, we were sitting together in a compartment when Neville and I got the invitations.  Neville Longbottom, of course; on his arm Ms. Luna Lovegood.  The lovely brunette in the back is Hermione Granger, and on her arm is Ron Weasley.  Everyone, Horace Slughorn."

"Weasley, was it?  Why, I do believe your sister's here as well!  I saw her shoot off quite the hex at another student.  Normally, I wouldn't condone such behavior," he smiled coyly to insinuate that he just might appreciate a good hex, "but I decided to let it go this time and reward her for a clever spell!"  He winked over at Ginny, who'd rolled her eyes.  Slughorn then shot off a barrage of introductions around the spacious – expanded? – compartment; there were nearly fifteen students of assorted years and houses represented.  Blaise Zabini was in Harry's year; he was an androgenous boy that Ron was convinced was female until fourth year.  Harry had never even met any of the others in the compartment, though apparently one Cormac McLaggen was in Gryffindor with him.

"Now, come in, come in; I always thought that the snacks on the Express were a bit sweet," Hermione nodded fervently, "And this old man's digestive system just isn't what it once was.  So I always enjoy a bit of lunch on the train up with friends.  Roast Pheasant, anyone?  Help yourself to anything, of course, Harry."  He gestured to grand silver serving platters; just lunch with a few 'friends' indeed.  "I was just discussing his uncle with young Marius over there, Harry," Slughorn said excitedly, gesturing to a younger student, fourth year Hufflepuff? Harry wasn't certain.

"It's Marcus, sir," Slughorn waved off the correction with a, "And how is old Damocles, young Belby?"

"Uh...well, I don't really see him all that much, sir.  He's pretty busy, and he and my dad don't really get along..." Tom knew that young Belby's chances at being a part of the elite Slug Club were at an end as Slughorn almost visibly shifted focus from the boy.

"Well yes, of course!  I'm sure that he didn't invent the Wolfsbane potion by lounging around all day!  Good heavens no!  They certainly don't hand out any Order of Merlins for that!  I still work a bit with Damocles, of course – professional correspondence – we've written a few articles for various Potions journals together, and all that.  Two years ago was a quite popular series in The Practical Potioneer.  Really quite boring unless you're an avid Potions enthusiast, I'm sure!"  Slughorn made certain that everyone knew exactly who his former student was, but his mention of Potions caught Ron's ear.

"Potions?  Don't you teach Defense?"  He questioned.

"Oh dear no, my boy!  Defense, oh, that's rich!  No, I believe Severus will take over the Defense position this year as I instruct you all in Potions."  Ron looked downtrodden that Snape hadn't caught dragonpox and keeled, but was still excited.

"Do you except 'E' O.W.L.s for your N.E.W.T. classes?"  

"Why of course, Reginald!  That is a fine achievement, after all!"  Ron turned to Harry, who was motioning to him to not let Slughorn know that Harry wasn't enrolled in Potions; Harry had a feeling that Slughorn wouldn't let that injustice stand.

"That's great!  Harry, we can sign up for Potions and qualify as Aurors!"  Slughorn turned a surprised eye to Harry.

"You mean you weren't enrolled in Potions!  Nonsense, my boy!  Why, with dear Lily as talented as she was, I absolutely insist.  I'll talk to Minerva straightaway, Harry!"  Horace winked at him, and Harry gave a sourly thankful smile.  Horace continued blithely, "And an auror, Harry?  I never knew you had aspirations of a Ministry appointment!  I know a few people, if you need contacts, of course I'd love to help you out.  Which brings us to Mr. Longbottom."  Horace turned and, with a grin, started in on poor Neville.

"Now Neville, of course I remember your parents – both very fine Potions students, and I introduced them myself when I paired them up as partners for their first class!  Now, I don't fancy myself a matchmaker or anything..." He gave an obvious glance at Katie, then winked at Harry, "But I admit I did well with those two.  And, of course, they ended up as famous aurors, a tribute to the force.  Were it not for that tragedy, why, I daresay Frank would be Head Auror now that Rufus moved on to Minister, perhaps even the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement!  How about you, Neville, any dream job for you at the Ministry?"  Slughorn looked as though he might burst with pleasure if Neville desired a job in the Goblin Liason Office.  

"I...I've never really thought about it, Professor Slughorn, sir.  I thought maybe a career in Herbology, it’s my best subject..." Horace perked up.

"Of course, fine subject that is – many of the best Potions ingredients come from freshly picked plants, you know!  If you're interested in Herbology, Neville, you simply must meet Griselda Popkin – an old student of mine, she works in Brazil now on some type of magical reserve; sends me incredibly rare Potions ingredients every year, she's such a sweetheart.  I'll make sure to invite her to the Christmas Party this year."  Slughorn seemed to virtually ignore the invited guests of Harry – it seemed that Harry didn't yet have the same pull Tom used to enjoy with Slughorn – and moved on to Zabini.  Apparently his mother was some famously beautiful witch who’d been married seven times – all her husbands died mysteriously and left her mounds of galleons; She had only failed once, and Tom remembered well threatening her should she kill his follower and steal his money.  Gold digging harpy.

"And young Cormac, I know you're friendly with your Uncle Tiberius, I've seen a rather splendid picture of you on his desk at the Ministry hunting nogtails in – Norfolk, I believe?"  Cormac puffed up proudly at his chance to prove he belonged in the Slug Club.

"Oh yeah, that was a lot of fun, that was.  We went with Bertie Higgs and Rufus Scrimgeous – this was before he became Minister, obviously –" Cormac said.  Harry rolled his eyes.

"Ah, you know Bertie and Rufus too?  I remember when Rufus was here at Hogwarts, it was ever so long ago now, I'd not been teaching a decade when he came through.  I was so proud when he was named Minister – I've kept in touch for years, of course."  Harry was sure he was ecstatic at the Minister's appointment – more higher contacts at the Ministry.

"Yeah, I know my uncle was real pleased too, he's thinking that, since Scrimgeour knows my uncle and, you know, how competent he is, he'll get a big promotion; maybe Department Head."  Ron, standing near Harry, muttered how Department Heads are usually chosen for their incompetence.  Harry turned to him and winked, and mentioned loudly to Slughorn, "Weren't you just saying how poorly Bill thought of that Goblin Department Head, Ron?"  Horace instantly turned away from Cormac and rounded in on poor Ron.

"What's that, Reggie?  You know someone in the Goblin Liason Office?"  Tom knew that this was one office where Horace could install almost any appointment, and thus his favorite office at the Ministry.

"Oh, my older brother Bill – he works for Gringott's.  Curse Breaker, you know."

"Really!  That's wonderful – curse breaking, and warding in general, is quite the complex magic.  Dumbledore is a wonderful warder, but few others at Hogwarts can manage it."  Tom knew that Horace himself was a competent warder; this initially surprised him, as he hadn't pegged Horace as a very powerful wizard himself.  He soon learned otherwise, however, and then learned the fine art of political machinations and ruling from the sidelines from the man who was once his mentor.  Tom believed that Voldemort still would attempt this kind of usurpation at the Ministry, instead of installing himself as God–Emperor, merely allowing Imperiused servants to do the menial labor.

"Of course, it seems powerful magic runs in your family, if little Ginevra over there is any indicator – quite the hexer, as I've mentioned.  And that leaves Harry.  So much being said about you, of course.  And what rumors!  Last year's were positively awful, and trust me, Harry, I wrote to Barny Cuffe and told him exactly how I thought you were always telling the truth.  And after that mysterious business at the Ministry...You–Know–Who's public return after a fight at the Ministry.  And you all wrapped up in the center of it.  And Fudge's expulsion from office, dear Rufus' appointment.  So much talk about a prophecy, too...Prophet heralding you as 'the Chosen One'..." Horace began, obviously fishing for details.

"Oh that's rubbish, I was right there, and no one heard the prophecy – it broke when we were fighting the Death Eaters."  Horace was shocked at this revelation from Ron.

"You were there!?  Well why didn't you say so, Rory?"  Horace slapped Ron on the back and gestured to a seat – Ron didn't take it.

"I was there too, and Ron's right, the prophecy broke, not even Harry heard it.  We were all there, in fact: Hermione, Ron, Luna, Neville, Harry, and I."  Ginny added.  Slughorn looked dejected that Harry was not, in fact, the Savior of the Wizarding World and therefore someone who could do him immense favors.

“Ah yes, well…the Prophet has been known to exaggerate, grab at straws and all that.  I remember dear Gwenog telling me (Gwenog Jones, of course – captain of the Holyhead Harpies, you know?) –” Ginny and Katie both seemed rather excited to hear about the famous Quidditch player; the Harpies were a famous all-female team, and both girls had aspirations of Chasing for them.  Slughorn, however, was still floored at the age of those involved at the Ministry.

"Well, good heavens.  I'd heard rumors about it being a bunch of kids down there, but I expected maybe students older than Harry, and perhaps a few post–Hogwarts friends – know you used to hang out with Oliver Wood from Puddlemere United, stellar Keeper – but not younger students helping him.  You must have a few better spells than that Bat-Bogey, young miss."  He said.  Finally looking at his watch, Slughorn sighed.

"Well, just look at the time, I can't imagine where it's gone.  They’ve lit the lamps, even.  All right everyone, time to change into your robes, we'll be arriving soon, and I'm sure you can't wait to get back to the castle!  I'll see you all in Potions class – I'll be sure to talk to Minerva about you and Ron, Harry!"  It seemed that Ron had earned enough interest from Slughorn to learn his proper name; that business at the Ministry must have impressed him more than Harry thought.

“Now Cormac, you must come down to my office to borrow that book of nogtails for the next time you go out with your Uncle.  And Neville, do come and see a few of those exotic plants from Griselda!  Harry, Blaise, see you boys in class!”  He called after them as Harry hurried away from the smothering man.

"Harry," Katie called out to him as they walked out of Slughorn's compartment, "I just wanted to thank you for keeping me company this whole train ride."  She hugged him again, and Harry was forced to use Occlumency to force lewd thoughts concerning this attractive girl out of his mind as he smiled and said, "Oh, its no problem, Katie.  I just hope I can keep your company more often."  She smirked, blushing slightly, as she went out and changed into her robes.

"Blimey, Harry, I didn't know you could flirt with girls!"  Ron exclaimed as she left; she'd probably heard the comment, but Harry didn't mind.

"Well I certainly don't flirt with guys, Ron.  Anyway, its fun, and I am interested; you should try it some time – Hermione isn't going to wait around forever, you know."  Ron blushed red and mumbled something about not knowing what Harry was talking about.  Harry just grinned and shook his head.  He pulled on his robe and, shrunken trunk in his pocket, hopped off the train to make his way to the carriages and thestrals.  Harry made his way to the carriage pulled by Tenebrus, who he recognized, and gave him an affectionate pat.  

“Harry!”  Harry spun around to see a bubblegum-pink haired auror running towards him.

“Nymphadora!” Harry received a quick smack before he hugged her, “Are you stationed in Hogsmeade now?  That’s great!  You and Remus can have your own Shrieking Love Shack now!”  Harry and Tonks both laughed at his joke, but she quirked an eyebrow.

“I’ll be sure to put up hefty Silencing Charms around any Love Shack that Remus and I use, boy-o, and you remember that!  Who’s the pretty girlie?”  Harry introduced Katie – Tonks gave him an interested smirk, but continued, “I’m Tonks.  If you get cheeky like this brat and call me Nymphadora, my hated given name, I’ll smack you too.  Yes, I’m stationed in Hogsmeade along with Proudfoot, Savage, and Dawlish.”

“Heh – Dawlish was the one who attacked Dumbledore last year.  Bungler if I ever saw one.  Well, I have to get in the carriages, so as long as I check out, Auror Tonks, am I free to go, or must you waylay me with questioning?”  She looked at him critically, “You’re pretty shady, and anything but innocent…well, in some ways,” she gave Katie a small grin and a wink, “but you’re free to go.  Try not to go offing yourself, mind.”  Harry smiled and hopped into a carriage with Ron, Hermione and Katie.  Harry at first wondered why the older girl was hanging around with him so much – Tom commented that It isn’t your good looks – but then Harry realized that Angelina and Alicia, whom she'd always been best friends with, were gone now, and she likely had spent more time with students in their grade rather than her own.  Harry certainly wasn't complaining.

As the intimidating castle became visible and the gates opened, Harry's only thought was, Well, I wonder what's going to try to kill me this year...

A/N: Hope you’re all as pleased with my revelation of the ship in this story as I am. Trust me, it took forever for me to figure out who I would pair Harry with, but I like the idea of fleshing out an oft-ignored character. Additionally, every single reviewer was clamoring against and would likely crucify me if I wrote a Harry/Ginny fic. So I took a bit of liberty with a neglected character. Hope you enjoyed the bonus-length chapter! Thank you to all my reviewers, you are the reason for my quick updates!