FicWad

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters, ideas, and situations created by JK Rowling and owned by her and her publishers. I own the original elements & characters. No money is being made by me, and no trademark or copyright infringement is intended.



Rumors continued to fly around Hogwarts in February and March. Most were still about Harry Potter. Many were still rumors about his sexuality. These were again mostly stopped by three Gryffindors: Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, and Colin Creevy. There were other rumors that no one could stop, however. Harry's power jump was now noticeable in all his applied classes. The Charms, Defense, and Transfiguration classes had witnessed a few extraordinary performances, although Harry tried very hard to keep things under control.

It was this type of rumor that worried Albus Dumbledore, and all of the Hogwarts staff who were paying attention to the situation. For all of them but one, the reason they were worried was because the more Harry demonstrated his abilities, the more chances Voldemort would have to get ready for him. Even though the staff were all fairly certain that Harry was now more powerful than Voldemort (and Dumbledore), if only by a bit, the Dark Lord had fifty years of experience on Harry. Harry would need every possible advantage to come out ahead.

Severus Snape felt trapped. He really couldn't believe a boy could beat the Dark Lord who had so easily humiliated both himself and other wizards whom he considered Potter's superiors. On the other hand, he could take no comfort or joy in the idea that Potter might actually win.

At heart, Severus Snape was as much a Purist has he had been the day he had taken the Dark Mark. He now would grant that Muggles played their part in the world, and that the Muggle-born had to be trained. However, they and their half-blood seeds needed to know their place.

By and large, the Muggle-born did know their place in his opinion. It was the half-bloods, especially the half-bloods raised primarily in the Muggle world, that he especially disliked. Muggle-borns, even those rare few stand-outs like Granger, were generally confused and awed at first and knew enough to try and fit in. It was the half-bloods who caused the most mischief, along with the Pure-Bloods who should know better.

That the best example of a Pure-Blood who should 'know better' was Albus Dumbledore was a fact that Snape usually managed to totally ignore. About the only thing Snape was grateful to Harry Potter for was the information that allowed him to classify the Dark Lord as one of the half-bloods who caused more trouble than the entire group was worth.

He had decided that it would be up to him to save the wizarding world from Harry Potter, now the most powerful half-blood of them all.



Harry of course wasn't really paying much attention to any of this. He concentrated on developing his new powers, listening to his mentors (Tabitha, Cadfael, Tom, Lloyd and Remus; Toby had dropped out of tutoring Harry and his friends, although he still spent a great deal of time tutoring the Fifth and Sixth year duelists).

When the Easter break started on March 22, Harry was ready to take the next steps. To most of the students remaining at Hogwarts, it didn't seem terribly strange that Harry and Hermione seemed to have left for the break. As usual, nearly the entire Fifth and Seventh years stayed. Neville said he was staying to help Ginny, Luna, and their friends study Herbology.

Harry and Hermione did not leave via the train, however. None of the students saw the pair leave, which wasn't surprising since they left under Harry's invisibility cloak. No one noticed the strange movements of the whomping willow, as it was stilled.

Once in the tunnel, the pair removed the cloak. "It's a bit . . . weird being back here, isn't it?" Harry said softly.

"It is," Hermione agreed. "We thought it a bit of a tight fit three years ago."

Harry looked at her. "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

"Bit late to be worrying about that now, isn't it?" Hermione teased, holding out her hand.

"I guess," Harry agreed. Harry took her hand, lit his wand, and the pair wound their way through the long tunnel to the Shrieking Shack.

When they arrived, Harry pushed open the trap door, and to Hermione's shock, put his hands on her waist and boosted her up to sit on the floor, squealing in surprise as he did so.

Hermione suddenly went silent, and Harry came up as well, wand at the ready. He relaxed when he saw that Tabitha and Master J were smiling at them.

"I thought you said you wouldn't be here until tonight," Harry said. "It's not even Nine."

"That's what you get for being early," Tabitha retorted. "The students are just leaving for the station. We thought you'd be along a little bit later. I was just showing J here the set-up and we were double-checking the charms. We were just leaving."

"I hope it's been fixed up a bit since the last time we were here," Hermione said hopefully.

"It has been," Johnson answered. "However, we can't afford to have any smoke, so you'll have to use a lot of heating charms. We should have insulated things well enough that what little snow that's left won't melt from it."

"There's plenty of food," Tabitha told Hermione, "and if I know you, your backpack is filled with work and research, so go ahead and get to work." She turned to Harry. "There's a small work-out area. Try not to make yourself too mentally tired. You're going to need your wits about you tonight, but physical workouts might be good."

"All right."



Besides working out, Harry did work on his Regs and Medical homework in the morning and afternoon. By 4:00, however, he had put all his homework away. Hermione was still working on a research paper, so Harry went to cook dinner, Muggle-style.

Tabitha and Johnson were back at the Shack after dinner.

"Are you two ready?" Tabitha asked.

"It's not too early?" Hermione asked.

"To really travel into other minds, yes, in every respect," J answered. "What we are going to do tonight is help Harry project his mind and see where he can go from there." He led the students into a small room, where there were four cushions. J shut the door and gestured for the other three to sit.

Johnson then lit candles under small clay pots. "These do not contain any truly hallucinogenic substances," he said as he lit them. "They will help us relax. However, neither Hermione nor Tabitha will be projecting, and there is the chance Tabitha might should we use any of the herbs that enhance the projection power, since she will be deep in meditation. Tabitha will monitor our spirits, while Hermione will keep her attention on our physical selves."

J took off his robe, pulling an object out of his pocket as he did so. Hermione and Harry were a bit surprised to see it was a plastic spray bottle. He handed it to Hermione. "Should you decide you must bring any of us out of our trances, spray us in the face. Hit Harry first, no matter what happens. Even if one of us is in more trouble, we have more experience, so hit Harry first. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Feel free to put a chilling charm on it," Tabitha said. "It's more effective that way."

Hermione smiled at that, while Johnson said, "Then let us begin."



Harry was deep in meditation. He had lost touch with his physical self, as he had many times over the previous few weeks. He had never taken that next step however. He was ready.

Harry found he was hovering above his physical shell.

The room looked different. It had been illuminated by three candles and the tiny flames under the clay pots. Those now barely glowed. Instead, the room was now filled with light coming from Hermione, who glowed in all the colors of the spectrum, with innumerable swirls of color surrounding her. Harry saw his own body and J's were barely glowing a dark red, while Tabitha's was glowing in reds and oranges.

"The red is our body temperature," Harry heard Johnson say. He turned, and his guide was with him. Johnson's form was the usual one, but it was now a fully shifting pattern of colors, although with no reds.

"I am impressed yet again, Harry. Well done."

"It feels a bit like it did when I used to travel to Voldemort, and could see over his shoulder," Harry said, "although I didn't see like this."

"The simple explanation is that this is the difference between leaving your body and being dragged out unwillingly," J answered.

"I guess that makes sense," Harry said.

"Observe our friend Tabitha. How does she appear?"

"Reds and oranges," Harry answered.

"Look more closely, and what do you see?"

"Oh! There's a pair of small dark pink swirls, each one touching us."

"Exactly. That is her monitoring us."

"Why do I still look like me?"

"No one is certain why we appear to still look like ourselves to ourselves," Johnson answered. "I assure you, you are very colorful to me."

Harry thought about that. Johnson smiled and held out his hand. "Are you ready to fly as you never have flown before, Harry?"

"Yes, sir." Harry took Johnson's hand, and they were off.



If Harry had been consciously breathing, his breath would have been taken away.

"The speed of thought does not equal the speed of light," Johnson said, "but at times it feels like we can almost approach it."

In less than a minute, they had flown across the Atlantic, and Harry realized they were slowing down and approaching what had to be the Ysgol. "Feel your connection to Ron," Johnson commanded as their spirits hovered above the castle.

Harry thought of Ron, and slowly they were tugged away from the castle out to the grounds. "What's that?" Harry asked as they approached a playing field that wasn't for any sport Harry recognized.

"That, my dear boy, is Quodpot. It looks like the Greens are playing the Reds."

"There are Ron and Sabrina," Harry pointed out when they got to the stadium.

"Very good," Johnson said. "Now, feel for young Mister Creevy."

"Huh?" The change of subject was too much for Harry.

"You have been connecting to Mister Creevy's mind for some time. You may or may not be able to bring us to him from this distance tonight, but you can do it."

"Really?"

"Really."

Harry reached out for Colin's mind, and a silver thread seemed to appear, which then drew him, and Johnson, away from Ron and towards Colin.

Harry soon noticed, however, that they were going very slowly. "How do we move faster?" Harry asked.

"It's partially a matter of experience, but distance is also a factor. The point is that you managed to create the connecting thread of thought at this distance. Well done." Johnson took over, and they moved as fast as they had before. "We'll work on speed another day. We've been gone for less than fifteen minutes, but that is quite long for the first out-of-body projection, considering the power you just expended."

Their speed increased, and suddenly Harry realized he was back in his body. He opened his eyes, and then tipped over, feeling dizzy, and also coughing from the incense.

Harry was disoriented. He knew Master J and Spellman were talking, but he wasn't sure what they were saying. He could hear Hermione murmuring, but didn't recognize that she was performing the basic diagnostic medical spells.

Finally, Harry understood what they were saying. "What's wrong with him?" Hermione asked.

"It takes a few tries to get the hang of being easily reconnected to your senses," J told her. "I've never known it to take more than six tries, and there has never been anyone to get it on the first try."

"You weren't gone long," Hermione pointed out.

"No, but the first time is the most disorienting, and Harry also expended a lot of power doing a test. If he had just hovered here, it would have taken many hours to equal what he went through."

"He did well?" Tabitha asked.

"He performed with near perfection."

"Well, I don't like this part of it," Harry said in a weak voice.

"That's a good recovery time, Harry," J told him. "With luck, it won't happen more than one more time; perhaps not even then."

"That would be nice," Harry admitted. "I don't think I really want to sit up yet."

"The inner ear takes the longest to adjust. It often takes up to ten. . . ."

"I'm ready," Harry stated, sitting up on his own. The other three shook their heads. They remembered that the surest way to motivate Harry was to tell him not to do something.

"Well, Harry. Normally, these lessons would take a month to six weeks. After seeing you tonight, I believe we shall be able to complete the basics this week."

"And when will I be able to track down Voldemort?" Harry demanded.

Johnson glared at Harry, and Harry stopped thinking of his tutor as a kindly, slightly eccentric man in his later middle age. In his own way, Johnson could be a very dangerous man. "Harry, you shall NOT try to track Voldemort on your own. You should not even practice this without myself or Tabitha being with you."

"When?" Harry demanded.

"If you do everything we tell you, if you do nothing foolish, if you progress as I suspect you will, then on your birthday at the earliest, Halloween at the latest."

Harry thought about that. "That's fair," Harry said. "Thank you for being up-front with me."

"The temptation is to protect our charges," Johnson admitted. "We are trying to learn from the mistakes of our British friends."

Harry and Hermione smiled at that. "We shall practice again tomorrow night, and take your friend Miss Lovegood, if she has the ability. After the break, any Saturday evening which are not excluded by some external matter, Tabitha here will travel with you, and Miss Lovegood if she is able. Miss Granger shall watch over you."

"Yes, sir," Hermione said.

"None of the other faculty or witches have the ability?" Harry asked.

"No," Johnson said simply. "Well, one never knows what Dumbledore can and can not do."

"Can I combine this power with Legilimency?"

Johnson looked at Harry. "Possibly. More likely, you will be able to project emotion into Voldemort."

"And making him feel Harry's anger will hurt him?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, a little, but that is not what would really hurt the evil one," Johnson said, looking into Harry's eyes.

"Then what?" Hermione demanded.

"Voldemort's power is based on fear and anger," Tabitha said softly. "What then must Harry's be based on?"

"Voldemort possessed me at the Ministry, right at the very end," Harry said in a dull, almost lifeless voice. After a few seconds, he spoke again, and all three felt the raw pain of Harry's deepest feelings. "I . . . I wanted to die. I was hurting; I was . . . in despair. He took me over almost completely. And as I was dying, I was happy."

Hermione started to silently cry.

"I was happy because I would see Sirius again. I might even see my Mum and Dad." Harry looked at Hermione. "All the love I had for them just sort of . . . welled up inside me. It drove him out of me."

"Love," Hermione said softly over her tears. "'The Power he knows not.' Love, and compassion. Emotions that are totally beyond him now."

"Emotions that he gave up to become what he is," Tabitha said, almost as softly. "He is barely a he. He's more of an 'it', something beyond nature. He is evil and hatred and anger. He feeds on those emotions. Harry . . . Harry is powerful, but more importantly, Harry loves."

"Dumbledore doesn't really understand what he almost did to me," Harry said, his voice raw. "He knew love was likely the weapon that would destroy Voldemort, but he trapped me in a house where there was no love to spare for me, where there was nothing but contempt and neglect."

"I'm surprised at how much compassion you have in your heart, Harry," Johnson agreed. "You could easily be a very bitter young man."

"He almost destroyed it again last year," Harry went on. "Would it have ruined his master plan if someone had . . . if anyone had ever loved me before now?"

Hermione couldn't resist any longer, and threw her arms around Harry. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I should have told Viktor and Ron to go to hell and loved you. No, I should have held you right after you saved me from the troll and never let you go." She cried on his shoulder, and said, "I do love you, you know. We all do."

Harry gave Hermione a half smile and put his arm around her shoulders. "I don't think that would have worked at the time, but thanks. I guess it's mostly worked out for the best for all of us."

"Mostly," Tabitha said bitterly.

Something in her voice made the teens look at her. "You wanted to take me, didn't you?" Harry asked. "After . . . that Halloween."

Tabitha nodded. "Your mother wanted either Tudor or myself as the backup after Sirius. Your father didn't want you taken from Britain, which would have rather defeated the purpose of giving you to one of us. Dumbledore wouldn't override James' objection, insisting that you had to be put with the Dursleys. Still, there's no use fighting about that now. Maybe things will still work out in the end this way." She shrugged her shoulders. "Life isn't an experiment. We can't go back and reset an initial condition and rerun the test."

"Well, we can hope for the best, but this isn't the best of all possible worlds," Hermione nearly growled.

"No, Pangloss, it isn't," Tabitha agreed, earning her a strange look from Hermione. "No, they don't read Voltaire at the Ysgol. Remember, I do have some Muggle university degrees."

"Oh, right," Hermione said. "I'm just not used to people getting Muggle literary allusions."



Michael Corner was very frightened. He had been hunting for homeless Muggles to feed to the dementors a few days before. Suddenly he had been surrounded by figures in white, and his world had gone gray.

He had woken in a windowless stone cell, lit only by a soft magical flame. There was a pallet to lay on and a water bucket that refilled itself to drink from. There was a covered bucket he preferred not to think about except when necessary. Every once in a while, some sour bread appeared.

While objects (like bread and water) could be transported in, and the waste bucket was transported out, Corner could not disapparate. True, he wasn't very good at it, but the Dark Lord had found a follower to teach him the basics, so Corner knew whatever the problem was, it wasn't really his fault.

He had no idea how long he had been in the cell. His guess was six days, although it was really only four and a half. He was pacing the cell because there was nothing else for him to do, other than to be scared.

"You have good reason to be frightened."

Corner stopped and stared. Three men in while robes were in the small cell with him. "What . . . who . . . where. . . ?"

"Add 'why' and 'how,' and you would have all the basics covered," one said with an evil smile. "You know 'when,' after all."

"We needed a wizard, and you'll do," another said, more gently. "I believe your seventeenth birthday was March First, correct?"

Corner looked at them, wondering why anyone would ask such an inane question.

"Answer," the first one commanded. Corner nodded his agreement.

"Good, you're of age. We have need of you to fully reactivate our power in this area. Not very pleasant for you, unfortunately, but it's really no where nearly as wrong or evil as what you have been doing for your Master."

"I don't know what you mean."

The three men smiled coldly. "Nonsense," the second man said. "You got your sillier Housemates in trouble last year, you helped direct the dementors attacking the Muggles at Potter's house just before Yule, you have been serving as a conduit between your Master and young Malfoy, and worst of all you've been collecting homeless and run-away Muggles to feed your Master's dementors. We are therefore going to use you."

"How?"

"There, I knew you'd get there," the nastiest man said.

"Who are you?"

"Some might call us druids," the second man said, "although our order pre-dates the druids by several thousand years. The druids were an off-shoot of our beliefs, and even included a number of Muggles and squibs. We stayed in the background, studying magic and delving deeper into the practical aspects of magic than any others."

"Some matched or exceeded us in some philosophical and astral matters," the first man said a bit ruefully, "but not in most practical applications."

"So that is 'who.' 'Where' is deep in what would you call the Forbidden Forest near Hogwarts. 'How' is also easy. We have more power, collectively at least, than you or even your Master can even guess. As for 'why,' well, we need to sacrifice you. As for 'when'. . . ."

"What!"

"Did I miss that one?"

The third man said, "The equinox is less than an hour away. At that moment, we will slit the major artery behind your left ear. You should lose consciousness in less than a minute. Your blood will be absorbed by the bloodstone. As your soul escapes, we shall capture it and use it as well. As deaths go, it is less unpleasant than most."

"Please. . . ."

"There is nothing you can say or do to save yourself," the second man said. "We would have to wait until the solstice if we spared you and then kill you or some one else, and that just won't do."

Michael suddenly had his wrists bound behind him. He looked in desperation at the three men. "Please," he begged the youngest of the three robed figures who had been silent.

Cadfael ap Tudur ap Mawrth ap Rhys looked at Michael Corner without pity. "Unlike our ancestors, who would have taken any not of the Hidden for sacrifice, we take only those who threaten us or ours."

"How do I threaten you?"

"You have chosen to serve the self-proclaimed Lord Voldemort, who would threaten all. And he, and you, threaten one I have sworn to protect, and whom we have elected to protect."

"Potter!" Corner spat.

"Yes. Now you will render a service for those who oppose your Master. It is time. I wish you a safe journey to your next life, and hope your soul has absorbed the proper lessons."

Other than his own curses, those were the last words Michael Corner heard in life.