FicWad

A/N: A new chapter, like no way! Stay tuned folks, more on the way. Chapter 7 in 2013. Ride the walrus. Check for errors and review them please, it means I don't have too, and my beta is enjoying freshers too much to care.

Chapter 6 – The Homophone

Ron planted his feet on the floor and heaved, his muscles straining and his face red with exertion.

“Ginny!” He cried. “I need your help! GINNY! I can't hold it any anymore. They're gonna' break through.”

Ginny looked up from her bed, and rolled her eyes. Begrudgingly she stood and fastened the clasps on Ron's trunk shut while he kept it pressed against the wall with his shoulder.

“You do know Ron, that if you fold things, you wouldn't have this embarrassing test of strength each September, right? Oh, and Christmas, and Easter, and Summer.”

Ron trembled and sunk to the ground. He waved a feeble hand in pacification, and thanks, before closing his eyes and turning his head to the wall. Ginny's expressive face morphed into an exaggerative state of disgust before she stalked out of the room. Ron could vaguely hear her complain to his mother downstairs.

Since the healers at St. Mungo's had declared him to be mentally sound the special treatment he had been receiving from his family had most decidedly ceased. Worse yet, was the alteration in his relationship with Hermione. This particular month had been full of drama caused by the revelation of his new ability. Since his wandless transfiguration of the rose, Ron had not attempted any more magic without a wand, while Hermione went through what he'd monikered the 5 stages of disbelief.

Immediately after offering the rose to Hermione, she had been overcome by denial. First, denial that she had seen what she thought that she had seen. Then, denial that such magic was theoretically possible for any wizard. Finally, denial that such a powerful magic was possible by Ron. After that, the cat was well and truly out of the bag. Logically, Anger had followed.

Ron had requested clarification as to what she meant by that remark. Looking back, Ron realised that his tone may not have been quite as cool as he'd imagined. Hermione replied that it was exactly what it had sounded like, and turned to march away. She hadn't taken a step before she spun back. “YOU!” She'd screamed, jabbing at him with her extended index finger like a tiny knife.

After that everything had devolved quite rapidly. She'd realised, just like he, who had been responsible for the rampaging dragon in downtown London. Conveniently she'd forgotten the danger they'd been in till the appearance of said beast. She railed against him, called his use of magic selfish and 'Dark', endangering lives. The words produced great hurt in Ron and stoked an apoplectic fury. This stage had lasted considerably longer than that of denial, with occasional repeat performances. For example, every time they were in sight of each other. By this point the order and Ron's family had realised that this particular argument was much more severe than their habitual bickering. As such, they didn't interfere and the twins wisely chose not to exacerbate their fights.

Bargaining had been unusual; after a week Hermione had abruptly changed tack. Cutting questions and full forenames followed as Hermione became positively icy. The vitriolic rhetoric accomplished what her rage could not and Ron became progressively more and more miserable. After two long weeks of tiptoeing around the pair the adults intervened. Ginny lured Ron into a room where Hermione was sitting reading, snagged his wand and sealed the door. Ron had heard her laughing as her footsteps faded away. The awkward silence had proved too intense Ron had spoken. He couldn't remember what he had said, but piercing the silence had been the key. It catalysed Hermione to tears and she had spilled over into depression.

Ron had remembered a moment of vile satisfaction as she started crying. He'd quashed it as a matter of course, and stood frozen, unsure how to react. He'd patted her shoulder like he would Buckbeak, but this had only elicited more tears. Overcoming his pride he'd sat and she'd gushed and he'd listened. She'd explained the inadequacy she'd been feeling her whole life, describing her desire to be the best that she possibly could. She'd described how her pride had been offended when Ron had proved gifted in an area of magic in a way that she never could be and then, after what she referred to as the remark, the self-disgust she'd felt and that she'd turned on Ron. Eventually her words had run out and she'd slowly snuffled and sobbed refusing to meet Ron's eyes.

He'd sat on the arm of the chair while she'd spluttered for minutes; wrestling with his own feelings. Hermione had always been the witch he could depend upon. Growing up overshadowed by his brothers and then Harry, however unintentionally, had always been a heavy burden on him. Admittedly one less heavy of late, but to have it flung in his face by the witch in front of him, at such a vulnerable moment, had left a stain of resentment on his heart that he couldn't erase. Contrastingly, the Hermione before him had opened herself to him in a way she'd never done before. She'd shown him the entirety of her fears. He understood how a less than noble emotion could consume you a moment of madness. Hermione was so rational that strong emotions were all the less controllable for their spontaneity. Ron remembered the sudden resolve not to repeat previous mistakes he'd felt as he said.

“Hermione, I forgive you. I love you and we'll always be best friends.” Hermione had looked up at him and seen the sincerity in his eyes. She'd smiled and her beaming smile had filled up his whole world. Startled Ron had pulled Hermione to his chest in a tight embrace even as his eyes widened. A startled squeak and throaty chuckle had sounded from somewhere in the bushy mound of hair, only adding to Ron's and discomfort. When had this happened? He thought, all resentment forgotten.

Days on and Ron still pondered. The atmosphere in the order's headquarters had lightened considerably since his and Hermione's reconciliation. Hermione had been polite and awkward when she spoke to him, and Ron was no better. Since their chat his pulse raced everytime she spoke and sparks shivered down his skin when she touched him. It was like they'd just met and he was seeing her for the first time. At the same time, he was paralysed by regret. He hadn't just met her and to explore these feelings at the start of a second war with You-Know-Who would be . . . irresponsible. Anyway, she was his best friend and best friends didn't have feelings for each other. He knew she didn't. In the six years they'd known each other there had never been a sign of attraction from her. He was being foolish. It was some weird hormonal thing coming from weeks of being at odds with each other. These thoughts were cyclic and going the full pattern every day for the last few days Ron knew he'd be convincing himself the exact opposite later tonight, or not. Maybe a change of scenery and Hogwarts would clear his head.

“Ron” His mum's voice shouted up, “Ron! Everyone's waiting for you. Come on dear!” Ron sighed and stood and lifted his trunk. Trotting down the stairs he replied,

“Sorry Mum, I was checking to make sure I'd left nothing behind.” Approving, Molly turned and Ron followed her out the door to where the knight bus was waiting. The school goers boarded the bus along with Molly, George, Fred and Remus Lupin, and it set off with a gut lurching bang. Ron ended up sat on a bench alone, his trunk perched on his knees.

After three stops at various locations, the knight bus mounted the pavement and screeched to a bone shuddering stop causing an affronted lamp post to momentarily jump out of the way.

“King's Cross!” The conductor announced. The students and the chaperones scampered off the bus and it trundled away before disappearing with a crack.

“Stay close” Remus warned before striding into the crowd of muggles. Ron diligently worked his way through the throng, behind Fred, occasionally having to grip his robes to avoid separation. Although less impressive than the structure of Hogwarts, this year, as every year, Ron gormlessly marvelled at the architecture of the muggles. At either side of the large clock tower, two massive arched windows dominated the building allowing light to illuminate the entire station. Trains whirred ceaselessly at platforms as hoards of anonymous muggles waited impatiently to access their carriages. Strange sounds echoed and an indecipherable, squeaky sonorified voice hurt Ron's ears. Before too long they found themselves at the barrier to platform 9 and ¾.

Molly paused them there for a moment, fussing over their muggle clothing and brushing their jackets and hair with her hands before allowing them to re-enter the magical world, Hermione included. Ron found himself the last to go through the barrier and emerged from its tingle onto a platform abuzz with activity.

Auror's packed the platform, with nearly as many as red robes as robes of other colours combined. Ron spotted familiar faces, Neville and his grandmother and the Lovegoods together. Catching his eye Neville made a face of severe discomfort, his eyes rolling at his grandmother and Mr. Lovegood, Ron laughed and grinned back at Neville seeking out more of his fellow Gryffindors. He spotted Katie Bell boarding the train and Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil gossiping wildly near their exasperated parents, wild, exaggerative hand movements impressing the importance of their gossip on one and another. Lavender caught him looking and winked at him suggestively. Ron blushed and looked away.

Turning he saw Seamus Finnigan pointing directly at him and his family, smirking to two older witches at his side. Anger turned to understanding as his eyes spotted Dean Thomas making his way toward them a mixture of nervousness and excitement evident on his face. Nudging Hermione in the ribs he jerked his head over towards Dean. He leant down and whispered.

“Lets get out of here before Mum goes all Rita Skeeter on him”. Hermione nodded and both quickly hugged all the people who would be staying behind. Ron tried to pull away from his mother, but her small frame held him with back breaking strength. “Mum. Mum” He said, to no response, “I think Ginny's boyfriend wants to speak to you”. He grunted as he stumbled back, her hug suddenly ended, and saw her head spin and focus on the tall, dark boy in front of her. Dean's eyes were wide with surprise, and Ginny's fixed on Ron with the promise of future retribution. “Bye” He repeated, unheard by all except George, who nodded, his eyes creased with mirth.

He and Hermione slunk away, the sound of Molly's inquisition and Dean's faltering replies fading into the background bustle of the platform. They wormed their way through the people congregating at the step of the nearest carriage, Ron using his size to make room for Hermione and allow her to step up first.

Squeezing through the press the young wizard and witch travelled down each of the five carriages until they reached the last compartment in the last most section of the train. Entering, they placed their trunks overhead in the wiry frame, before seating. Though they had looked left and right, searching each compartment as they passed, they had seen no sign of Harry at all and Hermione's face displayed her worry.

They sat opposite each other, both looking out the window at the assorted wizards and witches outside. Hermione eventually broke the silence.

“What if he's been captured by . . . Voldemort?” She asked morosely. Ron turned away from the window.

“Hermione. We know he's not been captured by Him. Even if the ministry stomped on the prophet, You-Know – Voldemort would have announced it to the world. Its the only thing I'm certain off” he stated. “I'm more worried that he's chosen not to come back. There's been no Hedwig or contact of any sort from him for a month. It makes me unsure, it could mean that he's left this world behind. Well and truly run away, yet. . . I know Harry; We know Harry, and I saw his face when he ran to us in Diagon Alley. I don't think he'd leave without us, without telling us at the least.” Silence descended once more and Ron looked out of the window. He couldn't spot his family anywhere, and the spot he'd last seen them was now full off red robes, as if all the aurors in the place had congregated on that one spot just outside the barrier. The aurors flowed like a river of blood toward the train, causing a stir as they forced their way through. Ron craned his head to see down the length of the train to no avail. He couldn't see the cause of the commotion.

Ron turned back. Hermione had pulled out a book called House-Elves & Self-Hatred. Seemingly absorbed, Ron sighed and lay down on his half and closed his eyes. A whistle sounded and the smash of doors sliding forcefully shut progressed down the train, closer and closer. With a final whistle blow the train lurched as the engine strained and the carriages started to pull away from King's Cross. Vibrations rattled Ron's teeth and he sat up again, frustrated.

The grimy urban panorama of the inner city gradually became the comfortable homes of the suburbs before that too blended into the lush green of the lightly tamed English countryside. Occasionally students from younger years would look in. A dirty scowl from Ron would send them scampering off before they even laid a finger on the door handle.

Ron turned from the window to orate a lashing as his compartment door slid open but words failed him as he took in the figure at the door.

The wizard was dressed in an odd cut of pale blue robes. Flaring at the sleeves in what looked like an incongruous oriental style compared to the rest of the robes which sucked in at the elbows becoming as body fitting as thick wool would allow. An additional garment, a mix somewhere between a poncho and a scarf reached down just below his chest, the same pale blue as the rest of his robes. Shocking, deep green boots stuck out from beneath the hem. The crowning weirdness however had to be the hat. A lemon-yellow hat adorned the wizards head, a classic wizard hat, a large floppy ended cone with a brim as wide as a potions cauldron.

“Hello Lovebirds” Said Harry.

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“Hello Lovebirds” said Harry, grinning beatifically.

“Harry?” Hermione quizzed, mouth agape, a book disregarded on her lap. “what are you wearing?!” Harry grinned and did a little spin as he stepped into the carriage compartment. Ron fell back laughing uproariously. Harry's eyes narrowed as he looked at Ron.

“Its the hat isn't it?” Harry quizzed. Ron pulled himself up, wiping tears from his eyes and went to speak before collapsing in guffaws again. Harry sighed and removed the hat vanishing it with a muttered evanesco. Frowning at Ron who was slowly calming himself, Hermione took up the line of questioning again.

“I thought you ran away to distance yourself from Dumbledore, Harry. It really looks like you're trying to emulate him in that outfit”

“I'm not hearing a question Hermione.” Harry replied. He held up his hand, forestalling her as she opened her mouth. “It's a cunning disguise” He elaborated, with a wink. Finally having reclaimed his breath, Ron joined the conversation his cheeks hurting from laughter,

“Its not much of a disguise Harry, I'm sorry to say, I'd notice you from a mile away in that hat.” Hermione gave a little 'oh!' of understanding, and remarked,

“Don't you see, Ron? Everyone would be so busy looking at the outfit, that they wouldn't notice it was Harry underneath! That's brilliant, Harry” She gushed. Harry rubbed the back of his head, embarrassed.

“Well, the Notice-Me charm on the hat itself helped too” He smiled.

“What about the sleeves?” Hermione asked, grinning “A second layer of the ridiculous?” Harry grimaced.

“Actually, they're more practical” He slid back his left sleeve revealing his green dragon skin arm guard and wand holster, before displaying its twin on his right arm. “It keeps my wand from being summoned, and I've spelled my wand with a simple unbreakable charm that works on magical objects. I remembered what happened in our second year, I didn't want to see a repeat any time soon. I can spell both your wands too if you'd like?” Harry finished. Ron and Hermione quickly passed over their wands and Harry waved his wand over each of theirs in turn muttering an invocation too quietly to be heard. Silently he passed them their wands back.

“Did it work?” Ron asked.

“Test it out” Harry replied knowingly. Ron nodded and raised his wand high over head before bringing it down sharply toward his rising knee. Harry shouted a hoarse warning, rising from his seat, but it was to no avail. The wand connected with Ron's knee and bounced off, whole and undamaged. Ron looked up at Harry his eyes wide with fear. Harry reclined, chuckling.

“Well, I had to get you back for insulting my hat” Harry laughed. Ron muttered a choice curseword and leapt on Harry trying to get enough swing in the confined area to punch his ribs convincingly. Harry fought him off good-naturedly, eventually shucking him back onto his seat. He looked over and saw Hermione rolling her eyes, the trace of a smile in the curve of her lips, her eyes fixed on Ron. Harry smiled again.

“So? Lovebirds? Who's going to be the first to tell me?” Harry quizzed, his eyes turning from Hermione to Ron and back again. Their expressions changed, Ron's becoming uncharacteristically nondescript, while Hermione's became a scowl. “Have I got the wrong end of the stick here? Fred told me you two went on a date and you hadn't been talking to anyone else since.”

“It wasn't a date!” Said Ron heatedly at the precise moment Hermione mumbled quietly,

“It made us fall out.” They looked at each other, Ron flushing an embarrassed red, while Hermione looked down at her book again, hurt, refusing to meet either of their eyes. Ron looked back at Harry, in attempt to change the topic he quizzed,

“Fred, when did you talk to him? We've all been trying to contact you this summer, he never said that he'd actually managed to.”
“Well, it was on the platform, just. He was so surprised to see me he positively exclaimed my name, drawing all the aurors onto me. After shouting them back, we couldn't really talk about the more serious things that have happened this summer.” Ron scowled. “Ron, I mean order related thing, of course this is serious. Thanks for me putting me back on topic. What happened?” Harry looked up into Ron's blue eyes, deep in his eye, in his pupil, he saw a tiny flicker of images. He looked deeper, the images growing to fill Harry's sight,

A knee rose to meet his face, the force of it propelling him up, back and over. He flailed his arm for purchase scraping something cold and metallic. An image flashed to mind. . .

Harry shook his head, tearing his eyes away from Ron's and shaking his head to dislodge the vision from his brain.

“Harry! Mate! Are you ok? Is it . . . Voldemort?” Ron asked. He felt Hermione's hand on his back, he looked up to see her standing over him, concerned.

“Ill explain later.” He replied, “So, you were attacked.”

“Yeh,” Said Ron, disconcerted. “How'd you know that?” Harry just shook his head again repeating 'later' and Ron continued. “Well we were in muggle London. We'd just been to one of those moving picture shows, and were heading to Diagon Alley which wasn't too far away, when this gang of muggles started shouting at me and Hermione. There were loads, like 50.” Here Hermione snorted despite herself, and Ron paused. “Well maybe not that many, but loads.

Anyway, they corned us and I got gobby and he hit me out of nowhere. I was so shocked that I didn't think about my wand or my order portkey. Anyway, yeh, the lead muggle hit me again and I fell and my hand touched this cold, metallic thing. I thought of a big, blue, metallic Dragon. I saw them picking up Hermione, and her wand dropping. I was so scared. And angry. I felt this surge, like when I first held my wand, and next thing I know there it is. A big blue dragon.”

“That's impossible!” Harry interjected. Behind Ron, Hermione's eyes widened and she shook her head vigorously.

“Oh, why's that then Harry?” Spat Ron. Harry, frowning at both Ron's tone and Hermione's head waving, he carried on regardless.

“You don't get blue dragons.” He said, mystified “Even water dragons are a kind of mirky grey at best.” Ron laughed, and Hermione sagged behind him in relief.

“Well it was hardly natural anyway” Ron shrugged it off. Harry's mouth made a little o of surprise and he leaned forward intently.

“Did you go to the Alley straight after? This was on the day I saw you outside Flourish & Blotts?” Both Ron and Hermione nodded. Harry pushed back, stretch into the cushions of his seat. “Before I saw you there was this unnatural, synthetic sort of roar. All the wizards and witches in the alley froze when they heard it. It was you.” He sat forward again. “I still haven't heard anything that explains why you two had a disagreement.”

Ron squirmed awkwardly. “Well, everything was fine. Hermione didn't suspect anything really, I think.” He said, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, “But I couldn't help but think that it was me. I wasn't sure then, you see, that it was actually me. But I was suspicious, so I tapped my wand on my clock” Harry laughed and Ron glared. “I said clock! Yeh, so, I tapped my wand on it and said no incantation and nothing happened, and I relaxed, but then I realised I didn't have my wand the first time. I tried again, and touched it with my hand, and it turned into this beautiful white rose. Hermione came in. Saw it. Said it was impossible too, but for different reasons than you did Harry, and it all got a bit heated.”

Harry looked at him and than at Hermione who's blank eyes were fastidiously pretending to read, this was obviously as much as he felt comfortable saying in front of Hermione and dredging even this little morsel up was making Hermione act unusually oddly. He could wring the full story out of him in the dormitory tonight.

“So what have you transfigured since then? It is just transfiguration isn't it, or have you found another application?” Harry asked.

Ron grimaced, “Well, since that last rose I haven't actually tried anything again. I didn't feel particularly enthusiastic about practicing, so I don't really know what I can do.” Harry smiled again, after being apart from his friends for so long, every word seemed an excuse to grin.

“Not to worry, Ron. You've proven it wasn't fluke accidental magic, and we can pick it up as we go along.” Harry stooped and hunched his back affecting a high crone like voice, “You'll be a wizard to rival Merlin, Weatherby.”

“A wizard to rival Merlin” Ron mused quietly.

Before Harry could reply, a horrendous screech sounded from the other side of the compartment's outside window. Ron jumped a foot even as Harry was up and moving to open the window.

“Hedwig!” Harry cried gleefully. He reached out for her but she shrieked again and bit into the flesh of his thumb, cleanly severing a sizeable chunk. Harry hissed between his teeth and recoiled in shock and she flew past him alighting on the luggage rail. “Hedwig” He repeated, “what the hell are you playing at?” Hedwig hooted coolly and turned her head from him, slowly and deliberately preening. Harry held his thumb to chest. “Where has she been, I thought that she was with you this summer!”. Hermione didn't answer and reached up cautiously into the luggage rail feeling for her own trunk. Hedwig glared at her before hopping away from he questing hand. She pulled down her trunk as Ron answered Harry,

“We all thought she was with you this summer, I guess this answers why you never contacted us. What are you doing Hermione?” The last directed to the girl rummaging through her trunk.

“I picked up some Essence of Dittany at the apothecary for potions this year but I can't find it any- ahh here it is. Harry, stop squeezing your thumb” Harry did as requested and she poured a small amount of the solution onto his thumb. The missing chunk rewove itself before his eyes, initially pale before regaining its colour from returning blood flow.

The return of Hedwig erased all traces of their previous conversation and Hermione returned to her book as Harry and Ron spent a good fifteen minutes trying to coax Hedwig down. Her rage ran deep however, and she rejected their honest solicitations. Finally they flumped down, defeated. Harry was just happy that she'd returned at all. He'd not even considered the possibility that she'd have to fend for herself for a month. He shuddered, she'd be getting all the owl treats she could eat this year.

Ron was looking vaguely amused, Harry wondered aloud what lessons they'd have in common this year. Hermione replied first,

“I took Advanced DADA, Advanced Potions, Advanced Charms, Advanced Transfiguration, Advanced Ancient Runes, and Advanced Arithmancy. My electives were The art of the Animagus and Apparation”

“And breathe, Hermione” Ron joked, “I took the Animagus and Apparation electives too, but my course load isn't quite as heavy. Advanced DADA, Advanced Transfiguration, Advanced Care of Magical creatures and charms. Mum wouldn't let me have less than three Advanced courses, and when she got the letter about the changed entry grade for Advanced Potions last week she signed me up without even asking me.” Ron grimaced, “I thought I was finally shut of Snape.”

“I can ease your heart there, Ron. The reason the boundary was lowered was because Snape's not teaching potions this year. Dumbledore told me.” Ron punched the air in joy. “He's not left Hogwarts though, he's 'decided to relocate to a different area of the school'”. Ron's face fell.

“Hopefully the lake, the git's in need of a wash if you ask me” Ron muttered.

“No-one did ask you Ronald,” Hermione snapped, closing her book and turning her glare on Harry, “What do you mean Dumbledore told you?” Harry dropped his head to one side curiously, whatever had happened between her and Ron he didn't want her directing it at him. Begrudgingly, he answered.

“I met him for tea yesterday. I had to collect my train ticket and we had to talk about my subjects, he couldn't owl me like he did you. With less then half a day remaining, he was content to let me be. I'll be under his eye for the next ten months in a few hours.” Hermione settled back, mollified.
“So what lessons will we have together? What did you choose Harry?” Hermione asked diffidently. She did not yet know if he'd done well in his exams,

“Well we'll all have DADA and potions together, I'll have CoMC with Ron, oh and regular Charms too. We'll all have Animagus studies together too, so all in all its not too bad. I took duelling as my other elective.”

Ron grunted, bemused. “Why you want to be hanging out with a load of slimy Slytherins, Harry?” Harry's frown said everything and Ron laughed. “Yeh,” He continued, “Duelling is the pastime of the pure blood, It'll be Slytherins and a smattering of Ravenclaws, maybe some 'Puffs if your lucky”. Harry grimaced, but before he could reply Hermione interrupted.

“Harry are you only doing four courses?”

“No, no Hermione, I'm doing regular transfiguration also. I guess I'll be alone for that.” Hermione paused a moment, another question evident on her face.

“And you aren't doing Apparation as an elective?”

“No. That is correct. Just Duelling and Animagus studies for me.” Harry drawled.

“Don't you think it's a bit more. . . important than those, considering the situations you find yourself in each year?” Hermione rebutted.

“Why? You can't apparate inside Hogwarts.” Harry asked innocently. He saw the conflict between her desire to not appear bossy and her desire to argue the importance of apparation for his safety in the way she gnawed on her bottom lip and decided to cut her some slack. “I was originally signed up for it, Hermione, but I learnt to apparate by myself. It's how I escaped the order. I got a license in the summer, and changed my choice when I spoke to Dumbledore.” Hermione looked amazed,

“How did you learn to apparate since the end of school?” She inquired.

“I got a book” Harry replied. Feeling his answer fell a little short from their incredulous expressions he added, “It had a lot of recommendations. I'll give it to you later tonight Hermione.” He finished, predicting her question.

Ron's expression was shocked, to say the least. “And you got it right the first time?” He gasped.

“Well, sort of” Was the answer, “The very first time, I could hear the order closing in, I'd only just read it and I was in a bit of a panic. I splinched all my finger nails off” Showing them his hands his nails did appear to be a little shorter than usual.

“You'd only just read it?” Hermione asked. Harry sighed.

“My summer may have been even more eventful than yours, guys.” He then proceeded to relate to them his entire summer.

He explained his motivation for escaping the Dursley's and how he'd tied bed sheets together and climbed down from his window, fleeing from Mundungus' snores. He told them about how he used the flaw in Gringott's supervisory service to have almost an entire day of shopping in Diagon Alley, gifting them the watches he'd bought for them at long last. He orated to them the spells performed upon him in Transformation and, without going into too much detail on the vision he'd experienced during the process, his hypothesis that due to prophecy he would be the only wizard to ever survive such a procedure.

He described his flight from the order, his conversation with Dumbledore and his week long sojourn in the platform 9 and ¾ before he discovered that the protections on the platform could reveal him to anyone thought to investigate. He told them of his quick jaunt to the ministry, and then his journey to the potter home in Godric's Hollow. They were a receptive audience, putting oohs and aahs in all the right places, a supportive presence when he related the disappointing anti-climax of seeing the spot where he became the boy-who-lived. He told them about the changes he'd experienced in the succeeding weeks of the summer, of how he seemed to sleep less and less each night, at present needing no more than 3 hours of sleep a night.

When he finished, his throat dry, the sky outside was the grey that immediately precedes the true darkness of night, Ron and Hermione were silent.

“Well . . . “ said Ron, “What do you say to that? You win? Trumps mine and Hermione's story”.

“You say” Harry laughed, “Personally, I think the magical metal dragon far more interesting. Hermione?” The last addressed to the witch who stared morosely at the darkening shadows of the shrubbery zipping past the train. Harry realised the problem with a sudden epiphany. “Hermione, I think I know what's wrong.” He said quietly.

“I'm sure with your new super-intelligence it was very easy” She whispered back. There was no malice in her tone, just sadness. Ron just looked between the two nonplussed as Harry thought best how to phrase his next sentence.

“Hermione, I love you like a sister, you and Ron are the best friends I dreamed of as a friendless child. Me and Ron didn't befriend you because you're the smartest witch in our year,”

“Ex-” Hermione whispered back.

“Not unless I've had a sex change I don't know about it” Harry laughed, the unexpected interjection making him return to normal volume. The unexpected joke even tugged a little chuckle from Hermione, “Regardless, If you and I can love Ron despite his lack of intelligence,” He ignored Ron's disgruntled 'Oi!' and carried on, “Then we've always loved you despite your abundance of it. Our golden trio wasn't made for a set off characterless labels. The boy-who-lived, The muggle-born scholar, and the pure-blood comic relief. If you think that, you've done me and Ron a great disservice. Your our friend because you're Hermione, and nothing else.” Harry finished.

Hermione turned and launched herself at Harry giving him a tight embrace, before giving Ron another even tighter one. “That was exactly what I needed to hear. Thankyou for the watch Harry”. She looked down at her watch. “Oh! Ron! We're late for the prefects meeting with the new Head Prefects.” Ron rolled his eyes as she tugged him up by his arm.

“We'll be back soon mate. Get changed, we can't be more than an hour from Hogwarts now.” Harry nodded and the prefects left. Once changed Harry attempted to once more goad Hedwig into her cage, failing once more Harry sat. Ron had left out a couple of gobstones, while Hermione had left behind her house elf book. Neither appealed in the slightest and Harry ended up alone for half an hour, bored senseless.

Eventually Ron and Hermione returned, and Harry listened to their assorted complaints about the other prefects until the train started to slow as they arrived at Hogsmeade. They were just standing to depart when Harry voiced a concern,

“Have you noticed that Draco hasn't paid us his traditional welcoming visit? I hope he's Ok.” Ron and Hermione looked at his concerned face in disbelief before his lips wavered and all three burst into raucous laughter.

“Blimey mate, you had me there for a second” Said Ron as they joined the queue of first years outside their compartment. Hedwig alighted on Harry's shoulder for a moment before, with a vicious squeeze from her talons, she half leapt half flew onto Hermione's shoulder gently. Ron laughed again, “I think your going to be in the doghouse with that one for a while yet, Harry”. Harry just grumbled in reply, and together they made their way off the train onto Hogsmeade's platform.

The platform was dark, and on it the typical scene first of september scene was apparent. Hagrid rose from the midst of the crowd like a hairy monolith, his loud voice drawing all the nervous first years toward him. Harry managed to catch his eye and waved as he fought his way to the thestral carriages. Eventually Harry found himself in a carriage with Neville, Ron and Hermione.

Neville filled Harry in on his summer, showing him his new cherry wood wand. Harry was pleased for Neville, he seemed so happy and bubbly, incessantly chatty about the plants he'd cultivated this summer. While Ron and Hermione's faces were frozen into an expression of polite uncomfortableness as Neville prattled on Harry marvelled at the change a bit of self-confidence had brought on in the budding wizard. Neville eventually subsided, and he asked Harry if the DA would be continuing this year to which Harry assented. Ron and Hermione looked at him in consternation.

“Oh. I guess I forget to mention it, against all the other summer stuff.” Harry grinned disarmingly. Neville looked around in confusion.

“What happened this summer” Neville asked, but as he did so the carriage slowed to a halt, the students piling from it exuberantly. Before them, Hogwarts. The magnificent structure reached high into the heavens before them, a magical castle with a structure that could never be matched by any building that obeyed the laws of nature. It took Harry's breath away each and every time he saw it after a long absence. Even as he gawked, he noticed Hedwig depart to the owlry without a hoot before he was herded up the stairs and into the great hall.

The enchanted ceiling showed a black sky, the stars presumably blocked by dark clouds, while the great hall was aglow with hundreds of floating candles. Harry assumed his position at the Gryffindor table surrounded by the other sixth years. He greeted his fellow Gryffindors quickly as the rest of the school found their seats and a great hush descended on the assembled students as Professor McGonagall placed the sorting hat on a conjured stool. Their eyes followed her as she strode to collect the first years and returned, the diminutive wizards and witches in her lee. The sorting house gave a little twitch, then a shudder then a ripping sounded as it opened its brim and proceeded to sing,

When the land was otherwise,
And magic new.
Teachers taught lies,
And left students to stew.

Gryffindor, a wizard, proud and bold,
Saw injustice through and through.
To Slytherin he called,
A wizard, wise and shrewd.

United by a common goal,
They found two more.
They made the world's best magic school,
No lesson a bore.

But common in purpose and common in aim,
The founders floundered for
No founder prized a student the same.
The solution apparent in school houses, galore.

For Ravenclaw wit was a treasure,
And intelligence she thought to sought,
Gryffindor craved courage beyond measure,
Taking those tested who fought.

Mighty Slytherin, on ancestry staked his claim,
Only those of pure blood could learn.
Hufflepuff had no similar aim,
And housed the rest without concern.

For many years the school taught well,
Producing wizards and witches of great renown.
But behind closed doors division would tell,
And the founders split, inducing my frown.

Never since that fractious day,
Has Hogwarts' stood whole.
Conflict kept, just at bay
the cracks in Hogwarts taking their toll.

Now a danger, strong and external,
threatens to splinter us from within.
With my worries stated, and chagrin,
I fulfil my purpose: let the sorting begin.

A few lone claps rang out before they were hushed by their classmates. Harry saw Ron and Hermione look at him out of the corner of his eyes, but his own eyes were locked onto McGonagall's face which looked pale and slack in shock. He'd never seen his stalwart teacher so discomposed in such a public setting. She forcefully gathered herself and unrolled a length parchment,

“Fingleby, Garry!”. As Hufflepuff welcomed their first new housemate, Harry turned back to his own table, and joined in the furtive discussion. At length, it was decided that the Sorting Hat was repeating its warning of last year with more frustration. It was decided that they would of course, as always, attempt to include other houses, excepting those slimy Slytherins.

Eventually all the first years had been sorted and seated themselves at their new house tables, a moment later Dumbledore rose from his seat and clapped his hands twice. Silence descended.

“Before I can allow you to tuck into a sumptuous welcome feast there are a few announcements I must make.” Harry looked up at the head table, there was the usual assortment faces, he couldn't see a new face anywhere on the table. Then, again this wouldn't be the first time that a DADA teacher had turned up halfway through the welcome feast. Harry looked up at the Snape who staring intently at Dumbledore's back, Harry smirked at the ex-potions master. Ex- potions master. A horrible sinking sensation filled Harry's stomach as a dreadful thought occurred to him.

“It is with great pleasure that I announce our new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher: Severus Snape.” The Slytherin table burst into jubilant applause. There was a smattering of lukewarm, obligatory applause from the other two houses, but excepting the Gryffindor first years every Gryffindor's face was frozen into an expression of nausea and Horror. Ron looked particularly bad, his face seemingly drained of blood. Dumbledore waved his hands, benignly shushing the applause, his twinkling eyes and grandfatherly smile conspicuously ignoring the Gryffindors. Snape himself looked smugly please, an expression unbecoming on his sallow face.

“I place great confidence in both Professor Snape and the student body that this transition will not be problematic” Dumbledore said pointedly, pausing for a moment as his eyes met Harry's. “To fulfil the vacant Potions position, I must admit I was unable to find a suitable professor in such a short amount of time. Therefore, I shall be taking the position myself.” Dumbledore beamed, before frowning as the students sat silent. “While you may fear for your education in this topic without the guidance of the Professor Snape, I must protest that I do possess some aptitude for the subject.”

Harry leapt to his feet clapping and was immediately followed by the rest of Gryffindor, a moment later both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw followed. Through the other houses Harry could see one or two Slytherins standing, while the majority of the house remained seated. The hollering, cat-calls and whistles continued for minutes ignoring Dumbledore's gestures of modesty. In the end Dumbledore had to wait until the students finally got tired and sat before he continued.

“I don't wish to keep you from your dinners any longer so I shall concisely say: The forbidden forest remains forbidden; only third years and above may visit Hogsmeade on appointed weekends; the full list of punishable offences resides in the caretaker Mr. Filch's office. Let the feat commence.” With that Dumbledore seated himself and all the tables suddenly found themselves laden with food, cooked to perfection.

Immediately the great hall was filled with the buzz of conversation. Harry helped himself to every piece of food within his reach, mixing pie, roast and more exotic cuisine together in a cacophony of flavour. Around him everyone was sharing the stories of their summers. It was one of those rare times, where after a long absence, friends reconvene, every joke a winner, every sentence scintillating.

Harry joined in, asking questions but keeping his own summer close to the chest. The ministry had not revealed his disappearance and Harry saw no reason to bring it up and spoil the pleasant atmosphere. Harry was nearing the end of his meal, when a hush fell over his section of the table. A shadow loomed over him and Harry turned to see Snape's chest.

“Potter.” He spat, “Dumbledore requires your presence after the house feet. Apparently becoming Dark Arts professor ensnared me as his messenger boy.” He concentrated all his venom into his eyes, boring into Harry's own, “I do not appreciate this, see that it does not happen again.” He turned and started to walk away.

“Oh Snape!” Harry called. Snape paused but did not turn around. A larger area of the hall had paused to watch the proceedings. “Its Defense Against the Dark Arts. Don't forget. . . some of us won't.” Snape paused a moment longer, before snapping at the Hufflepuffs closest to him,

“Back to your prattling!” Without a further reply he stalked back to the top table. Harry looked past him to Dumbledore who was facing away from him and talking to Professor Sinestra, Harry believed however, that he had witnessed everything that had just occurred. Dumbledore knew the mutual enmity between himself and Snape, why did he continually throw them together?

Desert came and went in a blur of sugar coma inducing tart and ice cream and too soon, the feast was over. Ron and Hermione offered to wait with him for Dumbledore, but he waved them on asking them to stay awake and let him in when he was finished with the headmaster. Gradually the hall emptied, most teachers leaving the hall too. Students cast odd glances at Harry as he remained motionless on the bench at his table. Before long the hall was practically deserted, the silence in such a large space was disconcerting. Harry raised his eyes from where he'd be tracing patterns in some spilled pumpkin juice to see Dumbledore striding toward him in his magnificently purple robes.

“Come, Harry” He said authoritatively, as he passed. Harry scrabbled to catch him up and fell into step beside him. The castle was empty, only faint echoes of the Slytherins – whose common room was closest to the great hall – remained to break the stillness. The weight of the silence pressed down on Harry and he didn't fight it as they travelled up the stairs to the 6th floor and the headmaster's office.

Reaching the gargoyle Dumbledore stated a suitably confectionery based password and the gargoyle hopped aside. Dumbledore set a foot over the threshold before dithering.

“Harry, the potions classroom is now in that room there” He said, pointing at a door opposite where the gargoyle had leapt aside. “I fear I quite neglected to say so during my speech. Quite remiss of me. I'd be obliged if you could put the word out, as it were, after we are finished here.” Harry laughed at his eccentricities and assented. They took the spiral staircase up to the office and after saying hello to Fawkes Harry was seated.

The office was much the same as it had been last year, before Harry's raging. A few twinkly silver objects were missing, but on the whole, ignoring the mutterings of the portraits on his entrance, the office looked unaltered. Dumbledore steepled his fingers and looked over the top of his half moon glasses before beginning.

“Harry, yesterday I began a story that I was unable to finish due to the interruption of an order patronus. It is somewhat ironic as the story itself was cut short by an interruption, on that occasion, by you. Before I explain further I must relate to you an abridged history of the life of Tom Riddle.

The lessons I had planned for this year were memories I had collected that detailed Tom Riddle's birth and life. I hoped for you to observe them and make these connections for yourself and thus gain a deeper understanding of your foe. It is my hope that we will still do so. Harry, tell me, have you ever heard of a horcrux?” Harry shook his head in denial, “Don't worry, Harry. I would have been more concerned if you had. A horcrux is the darkest piece of magic imaginable. I believe it is how Voldemort survived the rebounding of his killing curse on the night you gained that scar.”

“I'm confused professor” Harry interjected, “Is a horcrux a dark spell or shield, or an ability like parseltounge?” Dumbledore replied,

“A horcrux is an object that is created in the act of murder. By taking another life, you protect your own from future harm. It can be anything from a pebble to a building, and it houses a portion of the murderer's soul” Harry shuddered. “As long as it exists, the creator can not be truly killed. The diary you destroyed just over 4 years ago was a horcrux, and the way it acted, with disregard for its own secrecy, suggested to me a horrible conclusion. A dark magic I had never supposed possible. Multiple Horcruxs”

Dumbledore gave a violent shudder, “I cannot be sure how many, nor all of their locations, but I have definitely found a second, and was in the process of acquiring it when news of your departure reached me. I wish you to accompany me, tonight.” Harry agreed almost instantaneously, “Harry, I must warn you, Voldemort will not have left his horcrux unguarded, you must not touch it, must not disturb it until we know better what we are dealing with. As you know, Voldemort is a master of insidiously malicious magic. Well, let us be off.”

The wizards stood and Fawkes flew between them, perching on Dumbledore's arm, while Harry lightly grasped a tail feather. The phoenix trilled and suddenly flames obscured Harry's sight, accompanied by a pleasant tickling, as if he had applied a flame-freezing spell. When the golden flames cleared Harry was overlooking a graveyard he knew very well on a hill next to a dilapidates shack.

“Little Hangleton” Harry gasped his wide eyes fixed on the grave where he had once been held and used in a dark magic ritual. Dumbledore turned and saw what Harry was looking at.

“Apologies Harry, I forgot the negative associations that undoubtedly accompany this place for you. We will not be attending the graveyard this night.” Dumbledore strode toward the house and Harry followed wrenching his eyes from sight below him. In the darkness of the night, he could just make out the bright lights of a village in the distance and a manor house closer to the shack. Dumbledore halted him at the boundary of the property and pulled out his wand and muttered an incantation. “There appears to be no magical protections remaining in the area apart from a muggle repelling charm. It's logical assuming Voldemort did not want to draw undue attention to this spot, but unexpected. We must proceed with caution.” Dumbledore bid him to wait while he strode in a circle around the house.

Harry looked upon the house, what reason would Voldemort have to hide a piece of his soul here? The dark lord was too dramatic, too flamboyant, too assured in his superiority to place a key to his immortality in a place of no sentimental meaning. Harry heard a silken rustling in front of him and dropped to a crouch, his wand drawn. Peering through the gloom he spotted a small grass snake.

“Hello” Harry said, “Can you help me, most noble snake?” The snake paused on hearing his voice then slithered over to him,

“What do you wish speaker?” The snake asked. Harry was no expert on snake inflection, but the snake in front of him seemed almost deferential.

“Tell me the protections upon this site, so that I may pass through unharmed” Harry commanded, and the snake hissed out one long syllable, almost like a hesitation before it replied.

“Speaker, we are the protectors of your magical talisman. You bid our ancestors guard it until such a day that you may return, and they have passed the geis down to us. We guard your treasure, Master”.

“Your master bids you take him to it” Harry replied following the snake onto the property. Dumbledore caught sight of him entering through the door, that was half off its hinges, as he rounded the property.

“Harry!” he shouted, breaking into a run to catch him. Harry turned and waited for him.

“Its ok, Sir. The protection was snakes, only snakes. I don't think Voldemort ever really expected anyone but him to come looking for this horcrux. The snakes are the descendants of the original snakes he tasked, and they think that I am him. They're going to it now!” Harry gushed, excited, before turning and hurrying on. Dumbledore cast a light from his wand, illuminating the grass snake as it emerged from a knothole in the floor, a ring grasped in its mouth.

“Leave us” Harry hissed at the snake, and it obediently writhed away. Harry turned back to Dumbledore to see the most peculiar expression on his face. Dumbledore reached down past Harry and picked up the ring reverently. Harry thought he heard Dumbledore whisper 'Ariana'. Harry moved to speak, he recognised the name from a grave he had inspected close to that of his parents. Before he could do so Dumbledore moved to place the ring on his finger. Harry moved before he thought. Reaching out, he slapped the ring from Dumbledore's fingers where it bounced to the floor and skittered away into the darkness.

Hardly before he could think Dumbledore's wand was trained on him. Time seemed to slow, in a way it had not in exactly a month. Dumbledore's face was a horrifying rictus of fury. Dumbledore's wand was spitting flames as wide as Harry was tall, they slowly engorged around the wizard at a snail's pace, curling like a whip. All the terrifying power that Harry had once seen directed at Barty Crouch Jr. was now directed at him, and it terrified him.

His right hand was up his left sleeve, grasping at his wand he realised. Whatever he had done, it had grievously offended – hurt Dumbledore, and he had seen what. . . a wizard reaching for his wand? Harry hoped he wasn't about to make another terrible mistake. He breathed out, closed his eyes and moved his arms down simultaneously. A great wave of heat hit him, and he was flung backwards. Something smashed into his back and his arms flung open as he opened his eyes. He saw the ceiling, or the floor, spin around and then rush up to meet his face. All was still, there did not appear to be another curse on the way. Harry pushed himself up, wincing, there were burns on the back of his hands that throbbed when he bent his wrists.

The shack was, improbably, in even greater dissarray. The table had been toppled, a dresser cracked and a window blown out. In the middle of it all Albus Dumbledore had collapsed, his knees drawn up to his chest. Harry looked around, in the far corner of the room the ring sat, unmarked, deceptively innocent. He walked over and nudged it with his foot. His scar gave the tiny echo of a throb, and he knelt and gazed at the ring. What evil was it that could cause such misery in the greatest wizard of the age? He looked at the crying wizard in the middle of ruin. Albus looked so incredibly old and frail at that moment, Harry hated to see him reduced so. Harry was overwhelmed momentarily by all the pain Voldemort had caused. The man spewed pain, and hurt and evil in everything he touched. Harry thought of Cedric, and Sirius, and his parents, and the abnormality of the situation he found himself rose up inside him. Before he could battle it down, the grief produced a large, blobby single tear that ran down his face and dripped off.

Harry was distracted by a large cracking sound. He looked down and another crack echoed through the shack. The ring was crinkling up like a coke can exposed to heat before his eyes. A black, disgusting viscous liquid bubbled out and then vanished, leaving behind the shrunken ring, and the signet stone. Harry pulled his wand from its holster.

“Evanesco” He said in disgust.

“Harry . . . You vanished. . . It's gone. . .” Dumbledore croaked behind him. Harry turned and saw the old wizard standing, his hand outstretched. His hand dropped. He visibly composed himself “You've done a great deed here today. We must leave, quickly.” Harry nodded, and Dumbledore set a brisk pace to the spot where Fawkes had flamed them in. “Hogwarts” he said, then disapparated. Harry turned on the spot and felt the horrible compression of apparation. Cold cobbles met his feet as he popped into being outside the three broomsticks. Harry looked around, but could see no sight of Dumbledore anywhere. He drew his wand and muttered “Lumos”, a harsh glare illuminated the street around him. He ran out of Hogsmeade onto the Hogwarts path. Cold, frosted earth crunched under his feet as they slapped their way toward the school. Harry felt vulnerable surrounded by the sinister darkness. In his haste he reached the gates of Hogwarts in what felt like only 5 minutes or so. Dumbledore was waiting for him underneath a winged boar.

“In the future, Harry, it would be expedient to apparate to the gates themselves” Dumbledore said happily. From his present demeanour, the weeping, broken Dumbledore Harry had seen moments ago could have been a mere figment of his imagination.

“Sir, what happened ju-”. Dumbledore cut him off,

“Harry, it is almost 1 O' clock in the morning, and we all have lessons early tomorrow. In your youth, you need your sleep”

“Funny you should say that, Sir, becau-” Dumbledore waved him to silence.

“Please, Harry. You have given me much to think about. I will explain tomorrow. I shan't keep you waiting any longer than it takes for me to organise my thoughts.” Harry relented in the face of his obstinance, and bid him goodnight as they parted at the stair case. Dumbledore returned the cordiality, and Harry began to run up the stairs to the Fat Lady, three at a time. He arrived at the portrait, and halted, stumped. He turned to his watch, and tapped a small button.

“Ron? Hermione?”. He waited, there was no reply. He hoped he wasn't stuck out here all night.

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A/N: Review any glaring typos and mistakes you spot and I shall correct them. Content was cut from Dumbledore and Harry's chat. To be typed in the next chapter. I just wanted this one done as the train lasted longer than I had anticipated. Harry's time dilation effect, its thinking time, as soon he moves physically, it stops.

~blorcyn~