FicWad

Summer for Harry Potter was going better than it had originally the first time around. He still did the chores the Dursley’s assigned him; just, to their annoyances, he did them magically and in one tenth the time. Vernon Dursley would go on for hours on how Harry was turning their perfectly normal home into a ‘freak house’. Harry simply replied, either he did the chores magically or he wouldn’t do them at all. When Vernon threatened to beat Harry unless he did the chores ‘properly’, Harry turned him into a rooster for an hour. Needless to say he wasn’t bothered again. Though Vernon did turn a funny puce color every time he saw Harry doing magic or walked by Harry’s room when the door was open. Harry had magically enlarged his room so that it was now easily the largest room in the house. Harry had done some major Transfiguration to his room so that it was more like a large flat. He had his own bathroom, kitchen, rec room, and training room. The rec room was outfitted with a one hundred and twenty inch plasma screen T.V., every game system available along with every game to go with it. He had the most expensive surround sound stereo system money could buy. There was a pool table and an air-hockey table, as well. His work-out room had state-of-the-art weight training equipment. His bed was almost double the size of the ones at Hogwarts. Harry was living the sweet life. Financially, Harry was loaded and taking complete advantage of it. Harry had already made plans for future investments. He had set up an account which was to be handed over to Fred and George when they started up Weasley’s Wizard Wheeze’s and until the company got started, the amount of gold inside the account would double every year due to interests. Harry set up a similar account that would triple every year that it was unused, except this one was called The Phoenix Trust Fund. The Phoenix Trust Fund was to be used to fund the Order of the Phoenix and give aid to families who lost loved ones to Voldemort and his Death Eaters. He donated fifty million galleons to St. Mungo’s, under the name Mr. Anon Omus, to improve its facilities and staff training as well as security which would all be necessary for the coming war. Finally, as of three weeks ago Harry had the ultimate leverage over his uncle. James Evans was the new owner of Grunnling Drills. What people didn’t know was James Evans was an alias for Harry Potter. Even with all the money he had spent, he was no where close to scrapping the bottom of the barrel, so to speak.

Harry had also started writing six books, of which all but one was to be published under that alias. He was already done and had published three of them, Defense Against the Dark Arts: A Guide for O.W.L. Students, Defense Against the Dark Arts: A Guide for N.E.W.T. Students, and Defensive and Offensive Spells, Hexes, and Curses for Aurors and the Auror Bound. He was nearly done with Tom Marvolo Riddle: The Rise of a Dark Lord and Battle Tactics of Death Eaters and Ways to Defend Against Them. Harry planned to release T.M.R. next summer. Battle Tactics would be released the following summer, before his fifth year. Harry wanted Battle Tactics to be on the shelves for a full year before Voldemort struck out in the open. T.M.R. was just something to piss Tom off as well as to inform the public of Voldemort’s roots and capabilities. His hope for Battle Tactics was that the ones that believed him would buy the book so that people would be a little better prepared when the war actually started. The sixth book Harry was working on wasn’t going to be release until after he graduated. It was a book of spells and potions he had created and/or altered himself. He decided that this book he would publish under his own name. There were two reasons why he decided to have an alias. One was because he didn’t want people to buy the books just because The-Boy-Who-Lived had written them. Two, he didn’t want people to know how smart he really was. Defensive and Offensive Spells, Hexes, and Curses, Battle Tactics, A Guide for O.W.L. Students, A Guide for N.E.W.T. Students were, in his opinion, works of sheer brilliance. People who read them would think that the author had spent several decades, maybe even a century studying Defense Against the Dark Arts. If they knew an eleven-year-old had written them, the press would have a field day and he didn’t want or need the extra attention. Dumbledore had some how been able to keep the fact that he had been cursed and survived the Black Phoenix Curse quiet, something that pleased him and infuriated him at the same time. Anyway, he decided he had to be more careful about displaying his intelligence. Especially after last weeks surprise visit. Professor’s Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape had come by to congratulate him or, in Snape’s case, interrogate him. Apparently he had gotten the highest grade on record for a first year exam. His score had been ten points higher than Dumbledore’s and twenty-five points higher than Hermione’s. Professor’s Dumbledore and McGonagall had come by to ask him if he wanted to skip a year and go straight to third year. Snape had demanded to know how Harry had been able to get away with cheating on his written exam and especially his practical.

For the most part, Harry ignored Snape. Instead he concentrated on making up a valid excuse to stay at the level he was. Harry knew he could take his N.E.W.T.’s and graduate right now if he wanted to. Key words there, if he wanted to. He didn’t though. He wanted to relax and enjoy school this time around. Sure he’d have to worry about the Chamber, and Sirius, and Peter, and Remus, and the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and Umbitch [er…I mean Umbridge] and Moldy Voldie, and the Death Suckers, and Fudge, and crazed fan girls trying to poison him with love potions, and a ton of other crap, but besides all those he wanted to enjoy his Hogwarts years. So he explained to the professor’s that he would rather stay behind with his friends. Dumbledore told him that he had assumed as much and McGonagall handed him his Hogwart’s letter early and they both left without another word. Snape glared at Harry while Harry smirked back for ten minutes before Snape also left, but not before Snape had appropriately turned Vernon into a walrus for the rest of the night. This had occurred after Vernon yelled at Snape saying it was bad enough to have one ‘freak’ in the house and if Snape didn’t leave immediately, Vernon would throw him out. As Snape left, Harry thought he saw what could only be described as pity in Snape’s eyes. It was there for a moment then gone so fast that Harry passed it off as a trick of the light. Still, Harry would have to make sure to give Snape some Basilisk powder after Harry killed the ruddy snake this year in the Chamber. After all, Vernon running around as a walrus all night provided to be extremely entertaining for Harry.

It appeared that Dobby was up to his old tricks again since Harry hadn’t received a single letter from the Weasley’s, his sister Hermione, or Neville Longbottom. Not that it mattered. He’d be seeing them all soon. If Harry had to be honest with himself, it was Ginny Weasley he was most anxious to see again. It was going to be a real pain to have to wait until the end of the year before he could even think of dating Ginny.

During Harry’s sixth year, Ginny had told him that it was the Chamber incident that had turned her schoolgirl crush into deep affection and eventually to love. She told him that from the moment he saved her life, she had known she loved him. As much as it would kill him, he would allow the Chamber of Secrets to be reopened. He had spent most of the summer debating with himself on this subject. If he didn’t do anything, Ginny would grow up quickly and be like him. Almost always serious, smiling but having it never quite reach her eyes. She’d lose her perspective that she still had about the world being only good and she’d have nightmares, horrible nightmares that ranked up there with his visions of Voldemort. Was he selfish to allow this to happen when it would drastically change Ginny and not all for the good? Was Ginny’s childhood worth sacrificing just so she would fall in love with him? Hermione had commented in the summer before their seventh year that Ginny had been good for Harry and vice versa. That Harry sometimes even looked his age when he was with Ginny. She could make Harry laugh and smile. Harry decided he would allow it to happen and if things got too bad, he’d stop it.

‘Now on to other important matters,’ he thought, ‘Training my younger body.’ He had all the magic and the knowledge he had had when he died, now all he had to do was train his body to be able to wield this new influx of power. He also would begin to train his body physically. He would take up martial arts again as well as all round physical fitness. He wanted to at least get his weight and height to that of a normal twelve-year-old. To do this, Harry had started taking nutrient potions and eating however much he liked at meals. His aunt and uncle were outraged but kept there mouth’s shut, afraid that Harry would curse them. The threat of turning Dudley completely into a pig had made a solid impact after the rooster and walrus episodes Vernon had experienced. Harry remembered that there was a mixed martial arts dojo in downtown Surrey, and Harry thought he would go take a refresher course. Maybe even fight in a couple tournaments for fun. Mixed martial is a combination of several different branches of fighting. When Harry fought the Muggle way, he would usually use mixed martial arts. His favorites to use were karate, kick boxing, judo, and ba-gua. He had been intensely trained in all four by Shacklebolt and Tonks summer before his sixth year. Though Tonks may be a klutz, when it came to fighting Tonks was insanely agile and nimble. Harry was surprised and completely embarrassed when she had kicked his ass quite easily in their first trial match. Tonks had told him that there was something about fighting that allowed her to be able to move without tripping or falling. One thing Harry never wanted to experience again was an extremely pissed off Nymphadora Tonks trying to beat the crap out of you. Although to be fair, he had been warned about calling her by her first name; and then again about trying to make up a nickname for her; and then pointing out that she didn’t mind when Moony called her by said nickname.

That was what had sent her over the edge. She had ended up breaking three of his ribs, both wrists, shattered his left kneecap, punctuate his right lung, dislocated his hip, blackened both eyes, broke his nose, and cracked his skull; all in a space of about twenty seconds.

She had been completely mortified and for weeks wouldn’t even look at him, let alone spar with him. Harry had ended up having to corner her and start a fight, goading her into rage by calling her the pet name of Moony’s before she fought back and eventually got over the fact that she had nearly killed him.

He had all his homework for the summer done so that Hermione wouldn’t harp on him. He smiled as he thought how proud Hermione would be of him. That was another thing that surprised him. Hermione was much more laid back. The first time around, it had taken them to winter of their sixth year to get her that way. School, Harry realized, was going to be a piece of cake. He had graduated Hogwarts after his sixth year. His grades had been good enough that he had decided to go for his N.E.W.T.’s in his sixth year while his fellow classmates were doing end of the year exams. After school, he had been privately trained. He had been an apprentice of Jin We Wang a ba-gua and fire elementalist master, and the last apprentice of Albus Dumbledore, Alastor Moody and Nicholas Flamel. Nicholas had past on the summer before what would have been Harry’s seventh year. That had been hard on Albus. It had happened just a week and a half before the raid on Malfoy Manor.

Harry’s uncle’s voice broke him out of his thoughts, “POTTER!”

Harry sighed and looked at his watch. It was eight o’clock. ‘Wonder what the walrus wants now?’ he thought as he headed down the stairs.

“What do you want yah damn buffalo?” Harry asked lazily.

“WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THAT THING!” roared his uncle, pointing at a paled skin creature no more than two feet tall, it was wearing a dirty pillowcase and head-butting the wall yelling, “Bad Dobby, bad Dobby!”

‘He’s early,’ Harry thought amusedly. Out loud he said, “I believe that ‘thing’, as you so eloquently put it, is a house-elf. It’s the Wizarding equivalent to a butler or maid. Now let’s see… oh yeah, right. Dobby, I order you to stop hurting yourself.”

Dobby stopped immediately. “Thank you, sir. Me is sorry, sir. Dobby twas meaning to appear in your room, sir. However, something redirected Dobby here, sir.” Dobby said.

‘So the wards I put up worked, good.’ Harry thought.

“Well shall we adjourn to my room, then? Or would you prefer to continue imprinting your face into my aunt’s kitchen wall?” asked Harry, with a smile. Dobby blushed slightly, and followed Harry up to his room. Harry wandlessly locked the room. He didn’t need to worry about privacy. He had warded his room at the beginning of the summer. One part of the ward stopped people to be able to listen in from the outside, but allowed people inside to hear noise coming from outside the room. A very useful ward considering how many explosions had been going off in Harry’s room so far this summer as he trained and experimented. Besides, it was not like the Dursley’s would care about anything going on in his world, including why an apparently demented house-elf was banging its head against the wall. All they would care about is if the neighbor’s heard or saw anything.

“First off, you are in my house, therefore you most obey my rules.” said Harry. Dobby nodded. “Rule one, no hurting yourself even if you accidentally or purposely betray your family. Rule two, you will not punish yourself for anything you say or do here once you leave. Now secondly, I know your name is Dobby and that you’re a servant for the Malfoy’s. I know that Lucius Malfoy plans to give a Hogwarts student the diary of Tom Riddle which will posses said student and force them to re-open the Chamber of Secrets. I know that Riddle is Voldemort’s real name. I know that the reason you are here is to try to convince me not to return to school. I know that you’re the reason I haven’t received any mail this summer from my friends. That being said, I order you to relinquish the letters you have been keeping from me.” Dobby was in complete shock and shakily handed the letters stored inside his pillowcase over to Harry. “Now I will be returning to Hogwarts-”

“NO!” Dobby yelled then turned pale when Harry gave him a stern look. “I mean, knowing that history is to repeat itself, do you thinks tis wise to return, sir?”

“I’ve handled Voldemort twice already. I think I can handle his sixteen-year-old memory.” said Harry, almost arrogantly he realized.

Dobby sighed, “Dobby being afraid you’d be saying something like that.” Dobby snapped his fingers. “Dobby is sorry, sir. But Dobby must do all he can to protect the Great Harry Potter.” There was a loud crash outside and Harry heard his Uncle start swearing. Harry ran to the window and saw that Vernon’s car had been dropped upside down, more than likely from a considerable height. Harry turned around with every intention to strangling Dobby, but the elf was gone.

‘Damn it!’ Harry thought. ‘Should have ordered him not to use magic.’

Harry sighed and went down stairs and out the front door. Once outside, he quickly and wandlessly cast memory charms and repelling charms at the neighbors who were in front of their houses or looking out their windows. When they all went back inside or left their windows, Harry righted the car and repaired the damage. He then turned and went back inside without a word to his stunned and enraged relatives.

‘How could I have been so stupid?’ Harry thought angrily. ‘I’m definitely going to strangle that damn creature when he shows up in the Hospital Wing!’ He went back into his room to do some more writing. Three hours later, just as he was going to turn in for the night, he heard his uncle yell, “POTTER! GET YOUR LAZY FREAKISH ARSE DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!”

Now Harry was pissed off. He thought about just yelling down that Vernon could yell at him tomorrow, but instead Harry wanted to have some fun with his uncle. Harry wondered how Vernon would like to spend the night as a cockroach. That seemed like a good threat to Harry. He locked his room like always before he climbed down the stairs to the living room.

“What do-” he started to ask before a fist connected with his face. Harry fell down and clutched his nose. It was easily broken.

“You never told us you couldn’t do magic.” His uncle sneered holding up a piece of parchment. “How many of these have you gotten so far?” his uncle asked as he kicked Harry hard in the chest. “Enough that if you use your freakish powers again, you’ll be expelled?” He hit Harry again. Harry swore under his breath. He should have remembered the damn letter. If this was how things were going to be, time would turn out worse then it originally had. ‘Stupid bloody ministry with their stupid moronic minister and their bloody damn Underage Sorcerery laws,’ Harry thought as blow after blow landed upon him. While he was being beat, he thought of the Burrow. Of Ron, Ginny, the twins. Of how he would rather be there with them. Hell he’d rather spend the rest of the summer hearing Percy going on about being a Prefect then to be at Privet Drive for another second. And as he thought of that, he disappeared with an inaudible pop, stunning all three Dursley’s. And as his body crashed down to meet wooden floor boards, he felt more at home then he ever had…

-- (The Burrow, eleven o’clock P.M.) --

The inhabitants of the Burrow were awoken by a loud crash coming from the living room downstairs. Arthur and Molly Weasley bolted straight up and leapt out of bed. Arthur drew his wand and quickly headed down the stairs with his wife following closely behind him. A sound almost equivalent to a herd of Hippogriffs coming from behind above them meant that their children were also coming down the stairs. Arthur stopped Molly before the last landing telling her to keep the children on the stairs before he slowly he crept down the last few steps. Instinct that he hadn’t used in nearly twelve years instantly took over.

He was ready to hit the ground and dodge curses without any warning. He was ready to send a Patronus message to the Ministry, calling for aid. He was ready to duel a dozen Death Eaters if they were there. He was ready to die in order to give his family time to escape. But as he reached the living room, nothing could have prepared him for what was in there. He saw someone staggering around, holding on to the wall for support.

“Don’t move!” Arthur ordered, pointing his wand at the intruders back. “Drop your wand and put your hands on your head.”

The figure complied. There was a clattering sound as the person’s wand hit the floor and the person had to lean against the wall to remain steady while they put their hands on their head.

“Slowly turn around.” ordered Arthur.

The person once again complied. With the aid of moonlight pouring in from the window, Arthur gasped as he came face to face with the intruder.

“Help…me…” wheezed the voice of a little kid as his legs buckled and gave way underneath him, as if he’d been hit with the jelly leg jinx. The kid was bruised and bleeding badly.

“MOLLY!” Arthur yelled as he ran and caught the kid just barely before he hit the ground. Molly ran down the stairs with Percy hot on her tail, both with their wands drawn. As they reached Arthur they both gasped as well.

“Bloody hell!” cried Percy with realization. “That’s Harry!”

“Harry Potter?” asked Arthur. “You sure, son?”

“Yeah.” said Percy in shock. “I’d know the hopeless mop of hair anywhere. What happened to him?”

“I don’t know, but we need to get him to St. Mungo’s and soon.” Arthur said as he carefully tried to lift Harry up.

Harry grasped Arthur’s hand and stammered, “Not…Mungo’s…unsafe…Voldemort…spies…get… Poppy… Pomfrey-” he managed to say before he passed out.

“What did he mean by that?” asked Molly. “’Mungo’s unsafe’, I mean?”

“I think he meant that former supporters of You-Know-Who may still have spies at St. Mungo’s so it isn’t safe for him there.” explained Percy. “I’ll go call Hogwarts.”

Percy ran over to the fireplace, threw a handful of powder in, and yelled, “Hogwarts Castle, Headmaster’s Office.” There was a few minutes of nothing but green flames before Dumbledore’s head appeared.

“Ah…Percival, you’re lucky to have caught me. I was just about to-”

“My apologies for interrupting, sir, but we need help immediately. Harry Potter just showed up here badly injured. He’s asked for Madam Pomfrey.”

Dumbledore looked instantly concerned. “I’ll call her right now. We should be at the Burrow within five minutes.”

“Hurry.” pleaded Percy before disconnecting the Floo. Percy headed back over to his parents.

“How’s he doing?” he asked.

“I’m not a Healer, but he is in really bad shape.” said Arthur.

“Mum? Dad? What’s going on?” asked Ron coming down the stairs.

“Ron, get back up stairs now!” shouted Percy moving over to head him off in order to shield his brother from the view of motionless body on the floor. Ron dodge around him and caught a glimpse of his best mate.

“Bloody hell.” he said barely above a whisper.

“Percy, take him back up stairs. Keep the others up there as well.” ordered Arthur.

“Yes, Father. Come on Ronald.” said Percy dragging his stunned brother up the stairs.

A few minutes later, Dumbledore and Pomfrey arrived. Pomfrey inhaled sharply and Dumbledore looked sick when they saw Harry’s body.

“I never made it through healing school, but what I learned tells me he has a broken nose, a couple cracked ribs, a broken arm, a sprained ankle. Both of his eyes are swollen shut and I think his jaw is broken. He might also have some minor spinal injuries.” said Molly.

“Do we know what caused this?” asked Pomfrey.

“No. he didn’t say.” said Arthur.

“What did he say, Arthur?” asked Dumbledore.

Arthur shrugged. “Not much, just that he need help and to contact Poppy. We were going to take him to St. Mungo’s but he begged us not to.”

“Did he give a reason?” asked Pomfrey as she performed several diagnoses spells on Harry.

Molly frowned. “He said… he said St. Mungo’s wasn’t safe.”

Pomfrey stopped what she was doing and both Pomfrey and Dumbledore stared at Molly.

“He said that some of You-Know-Who’s followers worked or had spies at the hospital.” continued Molly, gauging their reactions.

“Smart young lad. I’ll have to tell Alastor this. He will be proud of the boy.” mused Dumbledore.

Pomfrey sighed. “Albus, I can’t do this on my own. I have a close friend who is a Healer at St. Mungo’s. I was his mentor. He is a firm anti-purist. Can I bring him here?”

Dumbledore looked at her closely. “How can you be sure? Many Death Eaters lived among us and we never even knew until they slipped up or were captured. Look at Barty Crouch Jr.” pointed out Dumbledore.

“Roger Anderson’s parents are Muggles. He is the exact opposite of the Death Eaters where as he almost to an extent, hates purebloods. On top of that, he was my secret contact at Mungo’s during the war. He can be trusted.” urged Pomfrey.

Dumbledore sighed, “Go get him.” No sooner had the words let his mouth, than Pomfrey was whisked away through the Floo connection…

-- (Meanwhile, upstairs) --

“What the hell is going on?” asked Fred.

“He refuses to respond to any of our letters,” continued George.

“only to show up,”

“in the middle of the damn summer,”

“beaten to a bloody pulp!” they finished angrily.

Ginny whimpered from where she sat on the end of the bed with her knees drawn closely to her chest. She had a steady stream of tears leaking from her eyes.

“Quiet, you two!” Percy hissed. “You’re upsetting Ginny.” He then went over to his little sister and embraced her in a hug which she fiercely returned.

“Do you think he’ll be alright?” she whispered against his chest.

“Of course he will. Madam Pomfrey is one of the best Healers in England. She’ll fix him up real quick, just you wait and see.” Percy reassured her kindly while glaring at the twins over her head.

“Besides, he’s been in worse shape and come out fine. No stupid Muggle duel is going to do him in. He’s bloody Harry Potter!” exclaimed Ron.

-- (Back down stairs) --

Madam Pomfrey burst out of the flames, followed closely by another.

“Sweet merciful Jesus! What in gods name happened to him?” asked Roger as he rushed to Harry’s side.

“Were aren’t sure.” sniffed Molly. “He appeared here a few minutes ago like that.”

The two Healers quickly began to heal Harry’s wound. Forcing potions down his throat every few seconds. After twenty minutes, they stopped and walked over to the Weasley parents and Dumbledore.

“He’s stabilized.” announced Roger wearily. Everyone seemed to let out a breath they hadn’t known they were holding. Roger rummaged through his bag and pulled out several shrunken bottles. After unshrinking them, he said “I assume he’ll be staying here for the remainder of the summer.”

The Weasley’s looked towards Dumbledore who said, “If he wishes and the Weasley’s will have him, I haven’t any objection.”

To the Weasley’s, Roger said “He’ll need to take a swig of each of these once a day, until they’re gone.” He pulled out another bottle which was about the size of an average Vodka bottle. “This is Dreamless Sleep potion. Given the extent of his injuries and the possible mental trauma of whatever happened to him, he’ll probably need it, trust me. Give it to him every night for the next three nights. Because it is a highly addictive drug, you’ll have to wean him off it. After the third night, give it to him every other night, then every two nights until it’s gone. The night after you run out, give him vile of plain water instead, but don’t tell him. That should completely get rid of any addiction to the potion he might have developed.”

“Thank you so much, Roger,” said Pomfrey.

“Anytime, Poppy.” said Roger, with a smile.

“Healer Anderson,” said Dumbledore. “I don’t believe I need to stress the fact that this needs to remain a secret.”

Roger nodded, “You bet. An old friend of mine who I haven’t seen in years was in town for a little while and I punched out early to go chat with her. After she left I went home for a quick nap, but my alarm clock never went off to wake me back up. Oh well. I guess I’ll be showing up for my second shift late today. I really need to buy a new alarm clock. Magic makes them go all wonky after awhile.” Roger said, trying to keep a straight face while Dumbledore chuckled lightly.

“Alarm clock! Does it have plugs? I collect plugs. Their so fascinating. I can't seem to harness any elekticy from them, though.” said Arthur.

Everyone in the room just stared at Arthur… and then, Pomfrey snorted in amusement causing Roger to crack up laughing which turned Dumbledore’s chuckle into a hearty laugh. Even Molly snickered at the absurdity of the whole situation.

After a few minutes, Roger sighed wiping the tears from his eyes. He said good-bye and Flooed to his flat. Pomfrey and Dumbledore left soon after with the Weasley’s promise to inform him once Harry had awakened and, if he could, had some breakfast. Molly transfigured the coach into a small cot and placed Harry on it and covering him with a thick wool blanket. She moved some hair out of his face. She softly kissed him on the forehead, her motherly instincts taking over. She then extinguished the fire and, accompanied by her husband, went up to inform their children of their friends condition. ‘I hate summer,’ was Harry’s last conscious thought before he drifted into deep sleep. He smiled slightly as he dreamt of a certain red haired girl with chocolate brown eyes…

-- (The next morning, six o’clock A.M.) --

Molly Weasley was a creature of habit. She got up each morning at precisely six o’clock to start breakfast. Once she had that started, she would make tea for herself and coffee for Arthur and Percy. Form there she would go into the living room and light the fire so as to have it ready if they had to make a call or run an errand or two. Around seven fifteen, Arthur would come down the stairs, grab his mug of coffee, a piece of toast or two, and his lunch which Molly had made the night before. He would kiss her good-bye before Apparating to the Ministry.

On this morning Molly got up at precisely six o’clock and started breakfast. She made tea for herself and coffee for Arthur and Percy. Form there she went into the living room and light the fire.

She turned towards the coach to check on the Burrows resident patient and started to have a panic attack when she realized Harry wasn’t there. She was about to Floo Dumbledore immediately when a soft bang of the back door caught her attention. She went into the kitchen to investigate, only to find the Boy-Who-Lived filling a glass of water at the sink.

“Harry?” asked Molly, hesitantly. The boy turned around as he took a drink of water.

“Hello, Mo- Mrs. Weasley.” Harry said. Internally, he was cursing himself. Yet another slip up. Or in this case, almost slip up. He had been calling the senior Weasley's by their first names since the summer after his fifth year, when he had joined the Order.

“What are you doing up?” asked Molly, curiously.

“I went for a jog like I always do in the mornings.” Harry replied, taking another sip of water.

“Do you know the extent of the injuries you had yesterday?” asked Molly, trying to keep her voice down and the anger to a minimum.

Harry was silent and closed his eyes for a moment before saying, quite nonchalantly, “Broken nose, a three cracked ribs, left arm broken, right ankle sprained, broken jaw, and some sort of spinal injury. Am I right?”

“You should be a sleep, or at least, still in bed.” hissed Molly, trying to control her anger.

“Fat chance at that, mum.” said Ron, grinning slightly. “Harry could get mauled by a dragon and still go about his day as soon as he was healed.”

“I did get mauled by a dragon.” Harry said, reminding Ron about the incident in his story when he had gone to Romania over Christmas.

“Oh, yeah.” said Ron, scratching his head. “Forgot about that.”

Harry walked over to Ron and gave him a curt nod. “Good to see you, mate.” said Harry.

“Better than it was to see you last night.” replied Ron, seriously. “What was up with that? Did your ‘relatives’ do that to you?”

Harry thought of telling the truth, but then he knew the Weasley’s, especially Molly, would see to it that he never went back there. While he loathed his relatives and wasn’t enthusiastic about returning anytime soon, he couldn’t deny that the blood wards were effective. They had kept him safe and alive for seventeen years, after all. He had examined them after his sixth year, blood wards were some power magic.

“No, I got jumped by a couple of idiots looking to score extra cash.” Harry lied. Then puffed out his chest dramatically as he said, “I was holding my own, too, and probably would have given all four of them a free trip to the hospital if one of them hadn’t pulled a knife on me. So I split while I could. Had to distract them by levitating a dumpster and dropping it right behind them, then I…well…I think I might’ve apperated back to my relatives then… some how here, accidentally.”

“So that’s what you got the warning for.” inquired Molly. “Arthur came home yesterday and told us that you had broken the Statue of Secrecy.”

“Yeah, that law is completely bogus.” said Harry, “They should change the age that we can do magic legally at fifteen.”

“Now you're,”

“Talking,”

“Ickle Harrykins,” said the twins, entering the kitchen and plopping down at the table.

“Who yah calling ickle?” asked Harry, slightly annoyed. “I could wipe the floor with both of you at the same time in any form of combat.”

“He has a point,” shrugged George.

“That he does, oh brother of mine.” concurred Fred.

Molly began bustling around the kitchen, preparing the days breakfast. “You lot have to de-gnome the garden after breakfast this morning.” said Molly.

There were a series of groans. Harry tried hard not to laugh. He had helped de-gnome the Weasley’s garden just about every time he had come to the Burrow. Personally, he enjoyed it and he couldn’t figure out why the others didn’t. It probably had something to do with the fact that they had been doing it for years, while it was new and entertaining to him.

“But mum, Harry’s here,” Ron tried to argue.

“So,” said Molly “he doesn’t have to do anything. He should actually go back to bed. You’re the ones who will be doing the work.”

“Actually, Mo- Mrs. Weasley,” interrupted Harry. “I’ve never seen a garden be de-gnome before. Sounds fun actually.”

“Harry, Harry, Harry.” said George in a way the disgustedly reminded Harry of Lockhart. “You are so naïve and don’t understand what you are getting into.”

“He’s right, mate.” said Fred. “I’d take up that offer on sleep if I were you-”

He was cut off by Ginny running in yelling, “Mummy! Mummy! Have you seen my jumper?”

“Yes, Ginny, it was on the rocking chair in the living room.” supplied Molly.

“Thanks!” yelled Ginny as she ran out of the room again. Then she ran back in with jumper in hand. “Mummy! Mummy! Harry isn’t on the coach!”

“That would be because I’m right here eating breakfast.” chuckled Harry.

“Harry!” Ginny shrieked, before she jumped on his chair to give him a hug. Of course, Fred and George used this to the advantage to embrace both of them.

“I think we have to start keeping an eye on those two.” said Fred in a mocking tone.

“I know.” agreed George. “First they’re holding hands. Then she’s sitting in his lap.”

“I half expect them to start snogging.” continued Fred.

“Of course then we’d have to beat the crap out of him.”

“Too right you are, brother.”

“FRED! GEORGE! CUT IT OUT AND BEHAVE!” yelled Molly at the top of her lungs.

“Actually,” said a blushing Harry. “Nothing has blown up, yet, so I think they’re doing pretty good.”

Ron snorted, Ginny giggled, and Molly had to stifle a laugh.

“Ha,”

“Ha,”

“Ha,”

“Yo u’re a real riot,”

“Harry. Just remember,”

“We have yet,”

“To prank you.” The twins finished in unison.

“Just remember that I’m the son of a Marauder,” replied Harry. “And that I am friends with Hermione. The dept of that girl’s intelligence is scary to say the least.”

It was at this time that a sleepy, wild haired Percy and a rushing Arthur came into the kitchen.

Arthur took one look at Ginny, who was still sitting in Harry’s lap, shook his head and said, “I’m not even going to ask.” Before he grabbed some toast and a mug of coffee and left the house.

Percy opened his mouth to say something, most likely to berate Harry and Ginny on how it was not proper for boys and girls of their age to be in the position they were currently in, but Harry cut him off.

“Two words, Percy. First one starts with a “P” and the second ends with an “r”. I wager you would appreciate it if the twins never found out.” smirked Harry.

Percy quickly snapped his jaw closed, giving and audible gulp. He eyed the twins wearily and glared at Harry.

“No way!” shouted the twins.

“You’ve got,”

“dirt on,”

“perfect,”

“Prefect,”

“Per cy!” they finished in awe.

“How’d yah get that kind of intel?” asked Ginny. “The twins knew Percy was hiding something, they just didn’t know what.”

“There was a slip up by the second party.” was Harry’s explanation. He received curious looks from around the kitchen, and a relieved look from Percy. Ginny sat down in the chair next to Harry. apparently she had just realized had been sitting in the lap of the boy she had a crush on because she blushed furiously and kept doing stupid things (like dropping her utensils and sticking her elbow in the butter dish).

After breakfast, Ginny told her mum that she was going over to visit Luna. Luna… she had been an enigma to Harry until half way through his sixth year when he figured out why she acted the way she did. Harry vowed to seek her out this year and befriend her.

Harry and the younger Weasley’s, minus Ginny, all went out to the garden. The twins ‘taught’ Harry how to de-gnome a garden and soon, with a little bit of wandless magic, Harry was topping out at chucking gnomes nearly a hundred yards. The Weasley’s were in awe of Harry’s feat. None of them could get within sixty yards of his farthest throw.

About an hour later, they were playing two on two Quidditch. Harry and Fred versus Ron and George, with Harry and George were playing chaser/seeker while Fred and Ron were playing keeper/beater, when Ginny and Luna came into view walking towards them. As they flew closer, Harry flew down to meet them.

“Hey, Ginny. This must be Luna, right?” said Harry smiling at the future Ravenclaw who in return gave him one of her loopy smiles back.

“You’re Harry Potter.” she said, stating the obvious.

Harry bowed elegantly and said, “That’s me. The Boy-Who-Lived, Slayer of Dark Lords; at your service.”

Both Ginny and Luna giggled. “Harry, can’t you go ten minutes without flirting?” asked Fred.

“Come on, Fred, what would be the fun of that?” replied Harry. Then he decided to get daring. “Besides, Ginny’s pretty cute when she blushes.” Ginny instantly stopped laughing and turned bright red whiled Luna giggled harder.

“Oi! Don’t talk about our sister that way!” shouted Ron and the twins as they tried to tackle Harry. At the last moment before they would hit him, he sidestepped them and they landed in a heap on the ground. Ron got up to throw a few playful punches at Harry, but Harry dodged each one.

“Your hands can’t hit, what your eyes can’t see.” said Harry mockingly, quoting Muhammad Ali, as he continued to dodge Ron’s blows. “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee!” he said, as he quickly jutted his foot out in front of Ron, causing him to trip.

“Wanna try again?” asked Harry with a grin, as he extended a hand to help Ron get up.

“No thanks, mate.” said Ron accepting the hand. Harry turned towards the twins who were still on the ground.

“How bout you two?” asked Harry.

“Nope, but thanks anyway.” said Fred.

“Yeah, it’s much safer here on the ground.” said George.

“Good as long as you know who is in char-“

Harry was cut off as he was tackled to the ground. He was about to yell out when someone started tickling him. Harry laughed hard, harder then he had since he’d come back. He managed to turn face up and see that he was being double teamed by Ginny and Luna. Fred and George had come over and were holding his arms down. He was completely helpless. Ginny soon took completely over until she was sitting on Harry’s chest, still tickling him mercilessly.

“Who’s in charge, around here Harry?” asked Ginny innocently.

“I… ha ha ha… I… ha ha ha… I am!” he stammered.

“Oh really?” asked Ginny, increasing her pace. Harry was practically trying to buck her off, but the twins were strong enough to keep his upper body down.

“You’ll only going to make things worse for yourself, Harry.” advised Ron.

“Who is in charge?” asked Ginny, again.

“You… ha ha ha… you…you… ha ha ha… you are!” Harry gasped. Ginny stopped to let him catch his breath and the twins let go of him.

“Who is the queen of this castle?” she pressed on.

“You…you are.” he said, breathlessly.

“Who is the best?” she continued.

“I AM!” shouted Harry as he flipped their positions so that he was on top and began to tickle her just as mercilessly.

“Har- Har- Harry! Stop please! Have mercy!” laughed Ginny.

“Ok, how bout the mercy you showed me.” Harry said, not letting up. This continued for another ten minutes until Molly called them in for lunch.

The Weasley’s, Harry, and Luna all went inside to find Dumbledore and Pomfrey waiting for them.

“Ah… up and about are we, Harry?” asked Dumbledore with the famous twinkle in his eyes.

Harry shrugged, “It’ll take more then a couple of petty thieves to do me in, Headmaster.”

“So it would seem.” replied Dumbledore.

“Mr. Potter, do you have any idea what it means to take it easy after sustaining critical injuries?”

“Madam Pomfrey, I once practically got mauled by a dragon. I was up and about less then five minutes later. So to answer your question, apparently not.” said Harry

“Mr. Potter,” sighed Madam Pomfrey “you are going to be the death of me.”

“You’re not the first person to have told me that.” smiled Harry.

“Right,” said the flustered Healer “well since I will not likely succeeded in keeping you bed written, please at least continue to take the potions.”

"Well then, Molly, your letters should be arriving in the next couple days. Oh, and by the way, Harry. I took the liberty to retrieve your trunk,” said Dumbledore, gesturing towards the couch.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “May I ask how you got into my room, sir?”

“We all got secrets, Harry,” said Dumbledore mysteriously “but can I safely assume that levitating a dumpster didn’t get you that warning from the Ministry?”

“You know what they say about when you assume something. You can make an ‘ASS out of U and ME’.” replied Harry with the trace of a smirk on his lips.

“Indeed,” replied Dumbledore with a faint smile. “Well then, I must be off. Enjoy the rest of your summer, all of you.”

Summer at the Burrow flew by at an alarming speed. Harry, Ron, Fred and George often occupied themselves with Quidditch and just plain flying. Harry had extended an offer to Ginny numerous times to join them, but the twins and Ron always shot the idea down before she could reply; something that really irked Harry to no end. He knew they would be regretting not paying her enough attention by spring. So Ginny spent most of her time hanging out with Luna, whether at the Burrow or at the Lovegood’s. Luna seemed to be becoming more and more relaxed every time Harry talked with her. She wasn’t talking about imaginary creatures as frequently. She was almost to the point where she had been summer before what would have been Harry’s seventh year.

Harry was having trouble keeping his feelings for Ginny hidden. He figured Molly already suspected something, but thankfully none of the other Weasley’s did not. He found out one night that his suspicion of Molly knowing something was true and as he thought back to the memory, he realized she had taken it quite well; all things considering.

-- (Flashback) --

Molly Weasley came down the stairs with the intent of having a late night cup of tea. While waiting for the water to boil, she noticed a figure standing beneath the cherry tree out back. She drew her wand and went to investigate, only to find that it was Harry. He was leaning against the tree and staring up into the night sky. Molly looked up to see her only daughter flying around at break-neck speeds, doing all sorts of dangerous moves. Any one of them was enough to give Molly a coronary.

“She’s a brilliant flyer, isn’t she?” asked Harry without taking his eyes off Ginny.

Molly looked into Harry’s eyes. She saw admiration and deep affection in those glowing green orbs.

She stared at Harry for a while. Harry, for his part, knew she was on to him and didn’t bother to hide his feelings.

“You like her, don’t you?” asked Molly after a moment of silence.

Harry didn’t say anything as he watched Ginny do a triple loop-de-loop.

“Harry?” pressed Molly, quietly but firmly.

“Yeah, I like her,” sighed Harry.

“And do you get kicks out of torturing the poor girl?” asked Molly sharply, motherly instincts in full throttle.

She regretted the words the second they left her mouth.

Harry’s fist clenched tightly and his eyes lost all of the kind emotions they had had merely a moment ago. The temperature seemed to drop at least ten degrees.

“Don’t you ever suggest that I would purposefully do anything to hurt Ginny! I lov-” Harry snapped his mouth closed instantly. Molly stared at him in shock.

“I love her.” Harry mumbled looking at the ground, trying to gauge her reaction out of the corner of his eye.

Having temporally lost the ability to speak, Molly opted not to try. Once she regained her composure a little, she asked, “Then why don’t you… can’t believe I’m telling a twelve year old this… ask her out?”

“One problem right there, age.” said Harry. “Neither one of us are old enough to do anything, even if we were to date. Dinner in the Great Hall isn’t what I would think of as being a good date. Second, she doesn’t like me.”

Molly gaped at him. ‘Is he really that dense?’ She thought. “Harry, she can’t even be in a room with you for more than five minutes without blushing. She still stutters from time to time when she is talking to you. How can you say she doesn’t like you?” Molly all but shouted.

“Simple. Her crush is on the Boy-Who-Lived and not me, Harry Potter; the exceptional Quidditch player, lousy at potions, Harry. And… and until she can see past the title, fame, and myth… I don’t want to date her. I love her, I know I do. And if I date her now, only to have us break-up in a few weeks, a couple months, whatever… I don’t think I could handle it.” explained Harry, desperately trying to get her to understand.

Molly thought about it. To be honest, it made prefect sense. The fact that a twelve-year-old was telling her that he was in love with her only daughter was a true shocker. Her first instinct was to tell him he had no idea of what love on that level was even like, but she knew she was wrong. She could see it in his eyes. He truly absolutely with out a doubt loved Ginny. That in its own right made Molly both incredibly happy and bothered. She could tell that if Harry took her advice, and Ginny truly only had a crush on the legend, then broke up with Harry, it would destroy him.

“All I can say is that if you were meant to be together, then you will be. Love is something that takes time to grow and as it grows, it changes. I’m not sure if it was any consolation, but it may be good to remember that,” sighed Molly.

Harry smiled. “It was more of a consolation then you know.” Before he turned back towards the Burrow, presumably to go back to sleep. Molly stood there for another five minutes before she went inside to wait for her daughter. They had a lot to discuss and late night flying was the least of concerns…

-- (End Flashback) --

The Weasley’s, Luna, and Harry were to meet up with the Granger’s and the Longbottom’s at the Leaky Caldron around nine. The school list had come and like Harry expected, half the books were by Gilderoy Lockhart; AKA: the golden dandy. Harry was sure going to knock him off his high horse early on this year. He was, however, surprised to find Defense Against the Dark Arts: A Guide for N.E.W.T. Students by: James Evans on Percy’s list. Apparently someone at Hogwarts believed that the golden dandy’s books were not the only ones a DADA N.E.W.T student needed. He guessed that Defense Against the Dark Arts: A Guide for O.W.L. Students was on there for fifth years as well. Score Harry- one, Ministry of Morons- zip. He hoped his books were still being used at Hogwarts by the time Umbitch [I mean… ah screw it] came to power.

At eight fifty, the Weasley’s, Harry, and Luna gathered around the fire.

“Alright, Harry, you go first.” said Molly, offering Harry a blue jar.

“But mum, Harry’s never traveled by-” Ron started to say, only to be cut off as Harry grabbed the Floo powder, walked over to the fire and said “Diagon Alley!” in a loud, clear voice.

On the other end, Harry managed to stay up right as he came out of the fire in the pub. He walked over to the barman and said, “Hey, Tom. Could I have a butterbeer?”

“Sure thing there… Harry! Good to see you.” said Tom excitedly. “How have you been?”

“Not bad, and you?” replied Harry.

“Ain’t got no complaints.” said Tom, handing Harry a butterbeer.

“Thanks, Tom, and put it on my tab.” Harry said.

Tom looked at him confusedly. “But you ain’t got no tab.” said the barman.

“Well then set one up, will yea. I doubt this will be the last time I come here. I’ll leave a message with my account manager to transfer the cost of the activation fee directly to the Leaky Caldron account.” smiled Harry.

“Sure thing Harry,” grinned Tom.

Harry was about half way through his butterbeer by the time Luna and the Weasley’s had stumbled out of the fire.

“Bloody hell, mate!” exclaimed Ron, “How do you know how to Floo?”

“Books have uses other than as pillows, Ron.” Harry teased causing Ron to blush and the girls to giggle.

Hermione and her parents came into the pub from Muggle London at the same moment Neville and his Gran Flooed in.

“Harry!” Hermione shrieked as she threw her arms around him, giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Harry noticed that Ginny looked depressed until Hermione did the same to Ron and Neville, who both blushed immediately.

Harry shook his head and smiled. ‘To be a pre-teen again,’ he thought. ‘At least puberty should be much more manageable since I already know what to expect.’

“You must be Hermione’s parents.” said Mrs. Longbottom, introducing herself to the Granger’s. “Neville talks about her a lot.”

“Gran!” groaned Neville as his already red face became an even dark shade. Hermione was also blushing now.

When they thought no one was looking, Harry and Hermione locked eyes. ‘Did you tell them?’ Harry thought to her.

‘No,’ came her silent reply. ‘It’s not easy telling the people who raised you your entire life that you know they really aren’t your parents.’

‘We’ll have to tell them sooner or later,’ sighed Harry.

‘I know, it’s just… I can’t seem to get over that they kept it from me. They used to preach to me about honestly and look what they were hiding. Sure, I understand why they did and even agree with it to an extent. The least they could have done was told me I was adopted.’

‘They’re only human, Hermione. They did what they thought was right and I for one am glad. I don’t even want to know what things might have been like, if Dumbledore had dropped both of us of at the Dursley’s.’ Harry shuddered.

The group made there way over to the bookstore, chatting about their summers and what not. Harry was torn between going in and staying outside. On one hand, he wanted to check out his books and see how many had been sold already. On the other hand, he would like to prolong his eventual confrontation with the ‘golden dandy’ for as long as possible. On the other hand, he really would like to see Arthur kick Malfoy’s arse again. So he went inside.

Harry was pleasantly surprised to find out that his books had sold over three hundred and fifty copies so far, of which only twenty-five were to Hogwarts students. As he bought his school books, he made sure to get Lockhart’s books with a full money back guarantee in the event that he decided to return them. He also managed to get everyone else to go along with this. He knew that the store would be receiving at least forty-five returned books by the end of the year, more if he could manage it. He couldn’t help but smile as Hermione picked up his three books in addition to the extra ones she was already buying. He wondered what she would think of some of the things he had mentioned and written in there.

If Harry had thought he could slip out through the crowd unnoticed as the golden dandy made an appearance, he was wrong. Harry had an inkling that Elder or Glaux or both were behind the mess. Harry had gone along with what Lockhart wanted until just before the camera flashed when he wandlessly vanished all of Lockhart’s, save his underwear. ‘No need to disappoint hundreds of witches yet,’ he smirked as he gave a two finger salute to the camera. ‘Yeah, this is defiantly going to make front page.’ And of course this lead to the confrontation with Malfoy.

“Bet you loved that, didn’t you Potter.” spat Malfoy, “Famous Harry Potter can’t even go into a bookstore without making the front page.”

“Leave him alone!” hissed Ginny.

Malfoy smirked. “Oh look, Potter, you’ve got yourself a girlfriend.”

Ginny face became bright red while Harry remained unaffected. “So what if I do?” he retorted, surprising everyone. “Jealous cause you’re already betrothed to that pug, Parkinson?”

Malfoy seemed shocked for a moment, but he quickly recovered. “Like I would want that?” he said gesturing towards Ginny. “Although,” he said, looking at Hermione “blood traitors are better then Mudblood’s-”

A loud crash followed by a yelp of pain filled the store. Harry had tackled Malfoy and started to re-arrange his intestines. It took the combined efforts of Arthur, Percy, Robert, Hermione, and Ginny to pull Harry off Malfoy. Fred and George were a little preoccupied fighting their own instincts to attack Malfoy, as well as trying to hold Ron and Neville back.

“POTTER! YOU’LL PAY FOR THAT! I’LL-” roared Lucius Malfoy, drawing his wand advancing to within inches of Harry.

“YOU’LL DO WHAT MALFOY?” growled the voice of Hagrid. “YER TOUCH HIM AND AZKABAN WILL BE THE LEAST OF YER WORRIES!”

“Mark my words, Potter.” hissed Malfoy quietly so that only those within a few feet of him could hear. “There will come a day where you’ll be alone and your friends won’t be there to save you. You’ll meet the same end as your parents! And I, for one, hope I get to be there to see it.”

“Hiding behind a silver mask?” sneered Harry, unfazed.

Malfoy’s eyes widened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I bet neither did those politicians after you handed them a couple sacks of gold or threatened their families.”

Harry knew that if looks could kill, he’d be six feet under. The Malfoy’s turned to leave, but Harry decided to add salt to their wounds by saying, “Oh and by the way, Malfoy.” The Malfoy’s turned around to face Harry. “Giving a bunch of brainless monkey’s better brooms won’t make them better Quidditch players.”

‘Yep,’ Harry thought. ‘I am defiantly number one on their most-wanted-to-see-die-an-extremely-pain ful-and-humiliating-death-list.’

The Malfoy’s quickly left the store to avoid any further humiliation. As group carried on their shopping, they learned that the Diagon Alley grapevine was no slower than Hogwart’s. Neither were the rumors any less bizarre. Harry particularly liked the one where he called the Malfoy’s a bunch of stuck up half-bloods trying to pass themselves off as Purebloods.

The day concluded with Molly telling them that, if Hermione and Neville wanted to, they could stay the rest of the summer at the Burrow. Both readily agreed. Harry knew that it was time to start bringing the Marauders back. First night everyone was there, Harry called a secret emergency meeting to take place by the pond at midnight. Everyone was curious about what this meeting was all about, so they were giddy with anticipation for the rest of the day. At five minutes til midnight, everyone met under the old oak tree.

“What’s this all about, mate?” asked Ron sleepily. “I’m bloody tired.”

“Cutting,” Fred.

“Into,” George.

“Your,” Hermione

“Beauty,” Harry.

“Sleep, ickle Ronniekins?” all four together.

“Shut it,” grumbled Ron.

“Anyways,” smiled Harry. “Most of us at least know who the Marauders are.” Harry turned to the younger girls. “Ginny, Luna. The Marauders were a group a pranksters who terrorized Hogwarts between 1972 and 1978. Their nicknames were Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. No one knew for sure who they were and even fewer know today. Their real names are Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black, and… James Potter.” Luna and Ginny’s eyes widened with surprise. “The Marauders dispatched shortly after Hogwarts leaving behind no one to continue their legacy. Until now, I say we bring the Marauders back; the next generation, the New Marauders. What do you think?” asked Harry.

“We think that’s bloody brilliant!” chorused the twins.

“Yeah,” “Totally.” “Awesome.” “Cool.” “I’m in.” were the collective responses.

“Good,” Harry smiled. “but there are some requirements.”

“Such as?” asked Luna with a lopsided smile.

“Well, we all need nicknames. I already have one for myself but it’ll take awhile for the rest of you to get yours.”

“Why’s that?” asked Hermione.

“Because of how the original Marauders got their names. We have to keep with tradition.”

“And how did our former Messer’s get their names?” asked Fred.

“Their names were given to them, based on their Animagus forms.” Harry said slowly, letting it sink in.

“We’re… going to become… Animagus?” stuttered Neville.

Harry nodded, grinning like a mad man.

“But don’t you have to register with the Ministry? I doubt they’d let a bunch of kids become even attempt to become Animagus.” said Hermione.

“That’s why were not going to tell them. We’re going to become rogue Animagi like my dad. None of them ever registered.” explained Harry.

The group was silent for a moment, before Ginny looked directly into Harry’s eyes and said, “I’m game.”

The others nodded in agreement. Harry withdrew several small vials from his robe. “Drink these,” Harry said, handing a vial to each of them. “It will prepare your body so you can start the exercises. By about Christmas, I’ll give you the Animagus revealing potion, which will tell you if you can and what animal you are going to turn into. When I believe your ready, I’ll give you the transformation potion.”

“Wait a second,” said Fred. “If we have to wait until we become Animagus to get our nicknames, how is it you all ready got one?”

Harry smiled, closed his eyes, and began to transform in front of them. By the time he was done, they were in complete shock. They couldn’t believe their eyes at what they saw.

Sitting in the spot where Harry had once stood was a large, jet black phoenix…