So this is my first ever Harry Potter Fanfiction and goodness gracious is this first chapter a dozzy. Uhm. I swear it will be worth it? I mean, what can I say to someone who's about to go on a journey of 10 k? If you get through this and actually like it, I will love you. No questions asked. Not because it will be bad or anything, I'm just a poor writer with self esteem lower than a bunch of people.

Some info:

From here on out, the AU situation is going to be very, very clear. The first big part will be coming soon, about half way through this chapter. It basically sets up for the rest of Harry's time and Hogwarts. And let me tell you, I can't wait to write it.
I've got the next chapter written up, but... well, I would like some feedback.
So if you've the time, and a strong heart for prologues:
Well. Let the games begin.

Summary: Harry Potter has just survived the Tri-Wizard tournament. Alive and battered he is returned to his Aunt and Uncles home for a summer of unhappiness, relieving the death of Cedric and being cut off from all magical civilization. But now he's back with a new friend everyone had just as soon never met and this strange feeling in his gut that's telling him: Something big this way comes. [AU after Tri-wizard tournament/Pairing will be revealed later: HP/?]

[p.s. this is not a slash story, so rest assured.]

:Parseltongue:

"Normal"

:/Whispers through walls/:

Perish Through the Smoke

A Garden and her Boy among other Oddities

The garden was the only place Harry Potter enjoyed in his muggle relative's small plot of land. Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived, savior of the wizarding world, only current resident parseltongue (who is alive) in the past century - in case you had not received the memo; was working diligently at his garden. His aunt probably thought it was a punishment to send him outside to weed the patch of flowers every day and trim the shrubs to her very specific specifications. And when he did it day after day in hundred degree temperatures, sweat pouring from his body in rivers- Harry was hard pressed to disagree with her. He might even, Merlin forbid, agree.

Today, July 29th, Harry Potter was sitting on his knees, trowel in hand as he weeded the almost inconspicuous dandelion sprouts which seemed to always find purchase in his garden. From experience the little buggers would cause trouble whenever he returned from his ten month hiatus at school and vacation with the Weasleys, and it would take him at least a week before he saw even a smidgeon of hope for his flowers. It was already the second week of his return. On the plus side, the wind was pleasant as the midday sun beat down on his back, giving him a nice layering of golden skin after two weeks of wash, rinse, and repeat. He worked shirtless, mostly because he found the ragged shirts he would have been forced to wear cumbersome, and ugly. And it made him look more like 'hired help'; so of course Aunt Petunia allowed it.

A few more sprouts were placed in the bucket to Harry's left, before he took a breather, leaning against the back of his calves in a kneeling position. His hands ached something fierce, considering he had been outside for the past three hours. Doing a load of menial tasks. Harry didn't necessarily mind, it kept his mind off of more… depressing thoughts. The Dursleys, his life in general, and occasionally Voldemort. By occasionally he, of course, meant quite a lot. But those thoughts only took up a quarter of his attention.

The other quarter was kept in check with work and trying to stay hydrated.

Cedric's death took up the rest of the rather large portion of his time. In fact, he was thinking about it now, with his hands aching, his skin blistering and warm from the sun. He shivered as he couldn't stop the images.

Cedric's perplexed face as he faced the green-spell without blinking. Voldemort repeating words like a chant in his mind, "Kill the spare." The ritual. The scar. Cedric still dead. The return had been the hardest part. Coming back with his dead body, watching as the fans cheered before it turned into weeping.

Where had the innocence gone?

With that thought Harry dug back into the garden with a fervent rush, pushing the thought of the past Champion out of his mind. He pushed all of third year far into his brain and hoped he could escape for a few hours. A thorn stuck in his arm, and he stopped only momentarily to pull it back out before leaping off the proverbial edge into work.

Harry moved his mind completely off the untouchable subject. Onto more… manageable things. He found himself doing a lot of thinking on account of the fact no one even tried writing to him. He still sent Hedwig with weekly reports of the Dursleys treatment of him, but he received nothing back by Hedwig's return. Harry still felt crappy about that, mostly because he hadn't a clue why no one would respond.

He had gone his entire life up to Hogwarts without letters from friends, so why was it so harsh and unbearable now when he was in the same situation as before?

Even with the past year and its hardships, Harry begun to realize something that should have disturbed him. Coming back well fed, clothed to the T, and happy, just rubbed his face into it even more. Being somewhat spoiled at Hogwarts had made Harry realize just how badly his relatives treated him.

Abuse would be the word most people would call it, but then again, Harry didn't see it as such. Most people hadn't been abused like he had. So he didn't think it was abuse. Harry had in his mind beatings, and being half-killed. The worst his Aunt and Uncle had ever gone was lock him up for a day, with three meager meals coming his way. No. The Dursleys didn't abuse him. It was just indifference, mixed with a kind of distaste for his very existence. Harry dealt with that as if he was a fish in water. Being ignored came natural to him. Snape would probably deny that, claiming Harry was a "spoiled child, taking after his father." But what did Snape know about Harry?

Nothing.

Harry being mistreated and Snape denying it.. well, it would not make it any less true.

The Dursley's did feed him, clothed him, and give him a roof over his head; but if Harry would have been asked what a home felt like he would have answered with a question: What is a home? Before Hogwarts had even come about as an option, Harry had long since forgone trying to figure out why his aunt always glared at him and muttered 'freak' as if everything was his fault, or why uncle Vernon became particularly bug eyed when he saw Harry studying his homework diligently. He knew Dudley didn't know either, he just was taught by example- something that actually stuck in the thick skull of his.

Monkey see, monkey do.

Part of it was magic, Harry knew that better than he knew that Hogwarts was to teach him how to control his talent. The other part was something intangible. He felt it in the air whenever he entered a room. It was a chilling sensation whenever the Dursleys acknowledged his existence. The Dursley's, for all of their faults, and they had many, were a family: something they denied him since he arrived in their lives. And unfortunately, they knew how to be a very close family while excluding their orphaned nephew.

Harry was a stronger individual, he felt, because he had been so mistreated. He dealt with things like loss, starvation, and horrible phrases without blinking. He survived Snape year after year. He survived Voldemort year after year. He was strong. The strongest.

So why couldn't he fight off the nightmares, or Cedrics memory, or Snape's clever insults that sometimes dug deep into his skin, or… anything? What was he doing wrong?

Harry knew he was strong, but he didn't feel like it when he was so helpless. He felt abandoned. Especially this summer. He hadn't seen an owl since he left on the train home. Sure, he had Hedwig and he sent her off to deliver 'reports about his well being', but that was it. No other owls had been forthcoming.

The Dursley's had no clue of Harry's thoughts. Harry didn't think they would particularly care. They didn't speak to him unless necessary. And it became increasingly more of a choice that they neglected to accept as he learned to read. It took a little while for Harry to just accept their attitude toward him and not hope for anything more. Family by blood meant more than anything, he supposed. He had been a burden to them. It was pretty logical they disliked him for it.

Even though Harry himself would never do something like that.

After his first year at Hogwarts, and what a year it had been, he realized he was wrong about what it meant to be a family. And about almost every concept he had accepted of families in general.

Family didn't mean seclusion and keeping nephews in cupboards while watching the telly in the other room. Family didn't mean making fun of the one who was different all the while encouraging a beast of a boy to grow rounder. Family didn't even mean that this behavior was acceptable in normal situations.

Family meant together, through everything, while still being able to welcome others into your life. Family wasn't jealous. Family was kind. Family was warm. Family was accepting. The best of family was the Weasleys. Ron. Mrs. Weasley. Family was love. Even the Malfoys could say what family was and Harry would accept it. Loyalty. Honesty.

And that was a very, very foreign concept for Harry to grasp.

Was there fear in a family? What did a family really feel like? For years, these questions had plagued his mind. And he had always questioned where his had gone. What he had done to deserve their leaving.

It was only until recently that he had kept that thought. With Sirius being released, harry couldn't help but smile.2

Harry pulled a particularly stubborn weed, taking out its main root with a triumphant smile. The smile was short lasting though, as he sat back on his foot until he dropped backwards onto his rump. His legs were sprawled out in front of himself like a three year old, but Harry could only admire the garden he had been watching since he was old enough to dig a hole. He leaned on his arms, keeping them behind him as the muscles twinged in distress. The pain in his arms was nice and kept him sharp, but if Harry was honest he could have lived without it.

There were many different flowers he cared for (tulips, chrysanthemums, bushes of roses, just to name a few), but his favorite had to be his mother's namesake. The lilies were gorgeous this time of year as well. Their colors were vibrant yellows, reds, and oranges. They always seemed to do really well in the summer, and Aunt Petunia had complained many times over that they only seemed to perk up when Harry was around. Harry kept his smile hidden until he was out of sight so she might not be able to see it light up his face.

Harry did not have many things to be proud of. But his garden he could love without being judged. It was the only thing the Dursley's had ever allowed him to keep.

:Old Hag.:

Harry perked up as he blinked. Where had that come from? He looked around, still sitting. There was no one out on the street or sidewalk, nor was that voice one of the Dursleys. Harry knew their voices better than anything. It was smaller, almost childlike voice that spoke. If a child could successfully become enraged and hiss. Was there a child around here?

:Thinkssss I don't know how to ssssssssmell rat poissssson? Haaahaaa, sssssstupid old witch.: Following the small breathy voice, Harry spotted a small green, garden snake around the bottom stems of his roses. It was slithering along, fast but also kind of livid. What had crawled in its mouth and died? The snake disappeared behind a particularly large bunch of leaves.

:Hello?: It took Harry a moment to hiss back, because contrary to popular belief he did not swim in snakes nor did he speak to them all that much. Once in a blue moon there would be a few that greeted him.

It was silent, but Harry could guess the Snake was either slithering for its life or coming towards him. It was the usual response a snake had given him, after the initial shock to their little reptilian brains.

A little, green head poked up from a rose stem and pushed past a budding clump of still attached leaves.

:Interessssting. You sssssspeak.: The snake said, pushing its body farther off the branch, towards Harry. Tongue flickering in the wind. :Why?:

What? Harry thought blankly.

Harry was flabbergasted. Never before had a snake asked him… why. It was always a hello, a little bit of praising being bestowed upon him for being smart enough to speak their language, maybe a little talk about the weather, and then a good day. They were incredibly polite, and also incredibly knowledgeable about Parseltongue speakers. He had just assumed all snakes knew what a speaker was.

Harry's mouth fell open and he fought to respond before he brain completely left him. :I donno…. I wasssss born with the ability to ssssspeak.:

He paused for a moment, irritating himself. He never actually pondered the thought of why he could (at the time he had realized he could it was a little far from his mind to find it out. In fact, he was pretty sure he had pushed it very deep into the recesses of his mind.), especially since Voldemort was the only other person this century who could even hold a candle speaking to snakes. Harry had always just accepted it was a freak accident, and didn't like to dwell on it often. Everyone said it was a dark ability, but how was that possible if he had been born of a light family?

:I think.:

The little head bobbed up and down, in a kind of nod.

:Achccceptable ansssswer, Ssssspeaker. Hold your flesh out, I wisssssh to taste you.:

What on earth? Harry jerked back. He had enough bad memories of the Basilisk going at him, he didn't need any more nightmares about a small albeit harmless, garden snake to add to his list of terrors. Plus, none of the other snakes had ever asked to… 'taste' him. Then again, this snake was comparably smaller than most other's he had met. And three times as harmless. And didn't know about his speaker abilities origin like all the other snakes had hinted at.

:No way. Why ssssshould I?: Harry had had enough of being ordered around by serpents. It seemed like that was all they did. Voldemort, Draco, and Snape included

Unblinkingly, the snake stared at him. :I am curioussssss.:

:Yeah. Right. So wassss the Dark Lord.: Harry snorted. He briefly wondered if this snake was Voldemort's, but kept those thoughts to himself. The snake might become offended, and he didn't want to piss off a snake that lived in his garden. The strange scenarios that could come about from that would be either horrible or so strangely simple it would confound him for days.

:Why do you fight your heritage?: The snake asked, its small head angling sideways a degree or two. :Why are you not proud to ssssspeak the noble language of ussss sssssnakes?:

:I did not mean it like that,: Harry replied. :Ssssspeaking to ssssssnakes is not liked in my world.:

:You humanssss are not very ssssmart.: It was said with disdain, but the little snake nodded its head in a form of understanding. :I will not bite. I wisssh to taste. That isssss all.:

:What if you're lying? And what if you decide you want to bite me?: Harry demanded, wrinkling his nose. He assumed a bite from the snake would not be anything special, but he had seen stranger things happen. He had met a phoenix.

The green serpent looked up at him, almost as if it was offended. Maybe it was. :I am a ssssnake. I bite. I eat. I ssssssurvive. I do not lie. Contrary to your beliefsssss, wizzzard the language we are sssssspeaking now issss impossssssible to lie in.:

Harry's mouth dropped. Impossible to lie? How was that even possible. He could lie in any language he wanted, he only needed to understand it. Surely Hermione would have told him had she known. And Hermione knew everything. Determined to try it out, Harry thought up the most bold faced lie in the world. :I am a Death Eater.:

Except he tried, but could not get it to leave his throat.

He tried another, trying to lie to the little snake who was looking up at him with wide, unblinking eyes.

:I am a girl!:

Nothing.

:Ron is smart, the smartest in our dorm.:

:Who isssss Ron?: The snake inquired, perplexed. :Issssss ssssshe your mate? I sssssmell no un-mated female on you.:

:No!: Harry blushed deeply as he shook his head. So blatant lies were a no-go, but half-truths or blatant misunderstands were fine. Ron was the smartest at chess. Harry rubbed his brow. Oh, he would have a head-ache after this, that was sure.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, it occurred to him that Hermione couldn't know everything. BUt then, if she didn't... how would he have access to that knowledge? It was troubling. Harry was already completely out of his league with Voldemort.

He needed all the help he could get.

:Ron isssssn't- I- Oh! Alright…. you may tasssssste me.:

With a resigned sigh Harry held out his dominant arm, palm up, centimeters away from the little, boxy head. The snake was a little hesitant, probably after watching the wizard in front of it have a semi-mental breakdown. But valiantly it continued forward, crawling its way up the arm, a tongue every once in a slither touching his arm.

:You ssssmell nice.: The little voice hissed, crawling up to the crook of Harry's elbow. It had managed to get all the way off the branch and now rested solely on his arm. Harry was no huge person either, so the snake couldn't have been more than a foot. :You are trussssstworthy. My calling issss Airssssshoon. What issss yourssss wizard hatchling?:

Harry blinked. The snake was female, that much was sure. He didn't know how he knew it, just that he did. The translation that his mind supplied for Arishoon was One Who Hisses at the Moon. Well, that was odd, Harry thought to himself. Surely she wasn't a were-snake, was she? What would she even turn into? A dog?

Shaking himself out of the strange thought, Harry answered. :I'm Harry Potter.:

Arishoon nodded solemnly, her eyes a bright onyx. Her answer was unexpected as Harry's own name, spoken by a snake for the first time ever, actually translated. :The-Man-Who-Refusesssss-to-Die. It is alwaysssss a pleasssssure to meet one who hassss already defeated death.:

Wait. The man who what?

Harry's mouth dropped open. How did Harry bloody Potter translate to… to that? It made no sense. His parents couldn't have known what they were naming their child. Nobody else had been able to tell the Potters naming their son as such would be dooming him, since no one else could speak the language of the snakes, except for Voldemort, and he wanted Harry dead.

Harry had had news dropped on him before, but never this… significant. Or rather, he couldn't quite say that. Hagrid telling him he was a Wizard was now second in line to 'most dramatic things to be told to Harry when he is not ready.'

:What? How on earth did Harry Potter transsssslate to… that?: Harry inquired in a vastly, insignificant voice. How did everything come out to him being tremendously different than anyone else on the planet? Why did his parents have to pick a name that in Parseltongue was the literal embodiment of Voldemort's defeat? And Harry's subsequent life? Did that mean…

Holy shite. One couldn't lie in Parseltongue.

:What.. what about Tom Riddle?:

Why had he not thought of this before?

Arishoon hissed sharply, pulling her face back and craning her neck in an 's'. She bared her fangs in an almost grimace. Harry was aware she could strike him at any moment, but she held back and he trusted that she would. :He-Who-Mocksssss-the-Divide. Hissss name issss ssssspoken of in the darkessst cornerssss of our pitsss. Salazar Slytherin'sssss heir who muddiesss the great name of hissss ancesssstorsssss.:

It was a relief to know that there was at least one snake who hated Riddle as much as him. Though he wasn't quite sure what Voldemorts true name revealed, it seemed as if Arishoon hated it. What did it even mean? What was a divide? Math? Harry was not good at that. Barely passed even without Dudley 'helping' him. Even though Harry didn't want to, he was starting to really like this snake. She was amusing and intelligent. Plus, she didn't like Riddle.

Anyone who hated Voldemort was A-ok in his book.

:Ssssso you do not like him?: Harry inquired softly, reaching up to stroke Arishoon down her back, trying to calm her back from her tensed state. Strong muscles tightened before loosening. Her muscles were clenched around his forearm tight enough that he would be hard pressed to get blood to his fingers.

:He-Who-Mocksss-the-Divide is a dissssgrace to all who Ssssspeak. Many of our kind will not admit to hissss sssssshort comingssss, but my ancesssstorssss have always been of unpopular opinion.:

:Do sssssnakesssss actually care that much?:

Before Arishoon was able to answer, Aunt Petunia called outside in her loud shrill voice that could have been comparable to nails on a chalk board, "BOY. GET IN HERE."

Harry flinched at the ending. He'd been yelled at so many times before, so many times that no reaction was his reaction. But… when she managed her shrill voice to that degree of pitch, he knew he was in for it. Though he knew not what he did. Outside all day, Harry wasn't even sure it was possible to do something to piss her off. Though if anyone could find something at fault with him it was Aunt Petunia.

:I have to be going.:

:That awful muggle isssss your caretaker?: The snake demanded, appalled. She especially look affronted when she muttered under her breath, :Sssshe tried to kill me.:

:Unfortunately. Yessss. I wissssh I could properly appologisssse for their disssssgrace, but they are not magical.: Harry reached his arm towards the flowers, so that Arishoon would be a little safer when she tried to cross back over to her home turf. She was a small snake after all, no need to hurt her just because she wanted to get to know him. The smooth, underbelly glided across his arm hesitantly as she turned herself around, before ringing around the rose stem.

Arishoon faltered a moment as Harry rose and dusted himself off.

For a snake, Arishoon knew it was a great honor to meet the one-who-had-conquered-death. When Arishoon had left her hole, she had not particularly thought anything exciting would happen. Sure, she had survived a near poisoning, but that was every day snake life. She survived a near-death experience every time Harry's owl left her perch.

Who knew that meeting Harry Potter would lead her to making a decision she had not thought she was going to be making. Ever. She would not tell Harry her reasoning. It would not do to tell him about her heritage, and how it worked. It was better if he thought her a lone, garden snake.

He would find out soon enough.

:I will ssssstay in thisssss garden.: Arishoon decided out loud, making Harry pause in his clean up, hands frozen over his butt as he wiped himself. Harry turned slowly, because his back had been to the minor, green snake. :In case you wisssssh to ssssspeak again. There mussst not be any welcome conversssationsssss with thosssse gremlinssss.:

:Uhm… of coursssse, thank you.:

Because what else does one say to a snake who just befriended you and wishes to speak to you again? You say the polite thing, of course. Even if Harry wasn't particularly sure how this relationship would end between a boy, more of a man now than anything, and a small green were-snake (if she was one, it was incredibly rude to ask one that question).

With a final and decisive nod, Arishoon disappeared into the underbrush. Leaving behind a trowel, a bucket half filled with dead plants, and a smattered boy who was more confused than sure of himself. Arishoon was certainly unique. It was quite obvious that she understood who he was, but Harry wasn't quite sure if she really comprehended what it meant to get to know Harry Potter. In his mind, he pictured their next conversation starting out with her demanding information of him. Especially if she got ahold of another snake with information on him.

"Where is that bloody boy?" Vernon was obviously trying to be loud, because it caught Harry out of his half day-dream. Vernon had a certain talent with getting attention. He was larger than an exercise ball on a good year, but his voice was what held a certain quality to it. Somehow, and it was always kind of bizarre to Harry, Vernon could talk loud enough that anyone within ten feet of the house could hear, but outside that bubble it was silent.

Harry tossed his tools together and dragged the bucket into the air as he made his way to the garage. His feet dragged and he could honestly, without even feeling a little bad about it, tell himself he wished running away was an option. Was America nice this time of year? Did the Chinese have edible food? Was anyone else in their own wizard war?

It wouldn't do to run away from his problems. What about his friends?

With a sigh, Harry put those thoughts away.

Entering the house after cleaning up and putting everything away was always touch and go. It sounded like Aunt Petunia was going to have a gasket, but she almost always sounded that way. Vernon as well. The only one he could tell a bad day from a good one was Dudley, and he had more bad days then good ones. Harry believed he had been recently dumped by a girl. So this next month would be hell on earth, unless someone came to save him.

It was starting to look like he was going to have to brave the storm of Duddy-kins and his breakdowns.

"Oi, where have you been boy? Calling for ages. Get over here." Vernon growled, which was more of a gurgle, considering the size of his throat. He was sitting, or lounging, Harry could never quite tell considering the girth of the man. He had a newspaper in his hands.

Harry was always hesitant to come closer than absolutely necessary. Vernon had never once laid a brutally, cruel hand on him. A little bit of pushing, sure, but it had never left marks. If he had, Harry would have had the muggle police on them so fast, it would be a wonder if the whole neighborhood didn't know by the time the police cars pulled up. Even if the aftermath he could deal with, Harry didn't like to be within striking distance. Call it a premonition. Call it self-preservation. Harry called it not being stupid.

It was Dudley that had gotten him into this particular habit.

"Yes, sir?" Harry always tried to keep his voice subdued. If they thought him unhappy, they were happy. Joy of joys. And Harry lived to serve.

"Dinner needs made. Your aunt has the list."

With a small sigh, so light it could have been mistaken for a deep breath, Harry turned towards the kitchen, ready to face the wrath of she-hulk herself.

Fortunately for him, Aunt Petunia only gave him the list and the left him alone to his thoughts. She also had a plate with a sandwich and a glass of milk. It wasn't much, but Harry did appreciate that she remembered him. Even if it was only to take care of the garden with his 'golden thumb'. Harry dare not respond with the correct term of 'green thumb'.

It took him about an hour to prepare dinner, and then he was allowed to take a small plate back to his room. This had been a reoccurring thing he was quite happy with. Especially considering they no longer forced him to wait until they all had stuffed their own gobs. Vernon and Petunia knew that the consequences for him returning to Hogwarts malnourished would be worse than ever before, especially as he was coming on to his 15th birthday. Remus and 'Snuffles' had come by the second day he had been back and threatened them. Since then, Harry had made sure to mention how Remus was a werewolf in any conversation he could, and that Sirius was a wanted murder.

They paled every time and Harry felt an almost intense and troubling wave of satisfaction. It was times like that he worried he would turn into a better Tom Riddle. Better, because he knew he would never be caught. Who would dare to question the boy-who-lived? And furthermore, when did the boy-who-lived in question start to question himself?

He reached his room in minutes after serving his plate. The room was so plain, Dumbledore would probably have a heart attack, but Harry had to admit just having a place where he could call 'home' was nice. No matter that the bars had been removed and Hedwig was sitting on the edge of her perch. The place was actually turning out to be quite… nice. Though he still felt smug satisfaction whenever he managed to get his Aunt and Uncle to buckle in fear because of his magic.

Harry shook his head, just as his thoughts turned down… that path. It wasn't often he doubted himself. Just every single night. Every minute of every day. It didn't help that anyone who actually cared for him were not around for him. The Weasleys were off living their lives as every magical family did. Dumbledore probably only thought of him in passing. Remus he knew was probably chomping at the bit to come see him, but werewolves were very restricted in their movements. Sirius as well, but that was because if anyone saw his face he would be sent back to Azkaban. He was probably stuck at his house, where ever that was. Harry could hope they were together, Remus and Sirius that is, because Sirius needed the recuperation.

Altogether, Harry fell asleep wishing someone would take him out of this hell hole before he was irreparably damaged.

Too bad for Harry, he'd been irreparably damaged since the ripe age of seven.

This was not happening, Harry thought to himself desperately. He wanted to stomp his foot like a child from the absolute injustice. This was not bloody happening. Hell, he knew he had the worst luck, ever. He embraced his bad luck most of the time. Had to or else it would swallow him whole.

But really? Was this really fucking happening? Matter of fact, was this even necessary?

Harry wanted to shout at the sky, scream his distaste into the very air he breathed.

He knew he shouldn't have left the Dursleys property. It was just one of those days where a walk to the park could mean life or death. He had days like that. He was allowed days like that. What was a summer without his friends without a little life-threatening danger? Only today, he really, really needed to get out of the house, you see. His garden was well taken care of, and it was about an hour before darkness was to fall. Vernon and Petunia were out of the house until eight or so, so that left him and Dudley. And he had received nothing for his birthday. Not a blip.

You can see why he needed to leave. Hell even Arishoon could have figured it out.

Wouldn't it be his bloody luck to make it to his fifteenth birthday only to die two days later?

It bloody sure would, Harry thought to himself with a snarl.

Making it to the park was easy, and he had almost ten, fifteen minutes of pure silence as the swing he was sat upon creaked out a very lonely, kind of old tune. Harry always had loved the park, no matter its battered state, because even then it reminded him of the world: Beaten but not destroyed.

Then Dudley and his gang, which Harry was still trying to ponder how he had gotten them together so quickly, arrived.

Harry threatened Dudley with magic. Dudley called his bluff. His friends had run off for some strange reason and Harry was now starting to understand that maybe, just maybe fate liked to monopolize his suffering. The darkness had fallen faster than he had thought possible. Even the street lamps were having trouble keeping from flickering.

Though, to be perfectly honest, that was when Harry knew things had gone to hell. A part of his stomach dropped, the gut-deep feeling of dread filled him. It was a sense he was used to. It happened whenever Voldemort was near, or before an encounter.

The world hated him. Fate hated him.

After all, why else would bloody Dementors be circling his block? Who the hell even thought that was a good idea, very much said "Let's implement it tonight! Without warning anyone!" Because Harry was sure without a shadow of a doubt that the Dementors were the Ministries. They were the only ones stupid enough to unleash the very demon-soul suckers that had almost killed him two years ago, onto the grounds of muggles.

The screams of Lily as she pleaded with Voldemort sped through his mind, and he readied his wand, which he had been smart enough to grab. Harry had grown increasingly paranoid, and now knew that since Murphy's law was his own personal ex-bitchy girlfriend, had no choice but to acknowledge magic, right now was the only way he would save them.

"Expecto Patronum!" Harry shouted, watching as the valiant, smokey stag swooped out of his wand tip and bashed straight into a Dementor that had been heading straight for his cousin, and with it, Harry could feel his doom sealed. Said cousin was currently curled up in the fetal position, shell-shocked and staring glassy eyed at the beings of pure darkness. Harry couldn't blame him, he had after all fainted after nearly being sucked dry.

The whole affair had lasted a minute at most, but Harry was completely exhausted afterwards, watching the phantoms splintered into darkness running away to find easier prey. It wasn't often that Harry had to battle more than two Dementors by himself. The magical drain left his legs feeling wobbly as he leaned against the side of a brick wall. His head was a little sore as well, as the pulsing magic settled around him.

"Wha-what were-were-were tho-those?" Dudley stuttered in his charming, blubbery voice. Ugh. Harry grimaced. Dudley always knew just want to say.

Harry came close to answering, when someone else conveniently beat him to it.

"The creatures were Dementors, my dear blobby child." Someone Harry did not know. "And before you or I have to ask: That was under-aged magic used in self-defense, correct or correct?"

Harry didn't have a whole lot of strength to spare, but what he did have he turned it to the figure who had appeared behind them. Already levying his wand, Harry spun to see who in their right mind could possibly have been out at night, and walked willingly into a place that literally stunk of Dementors. With the knowledge of what he had just done, Harry hoped the man wasn't a Death Eater.

Or an Auror.

The figure was cloaked in black, which was in itself not strange. Black was a very fetching colour for a wizard. Most preferred it to the more vibrant colors that Albus wore. His hood was thrown back though, and dark, virtually black locks framed his face. Harry was immediately drawn to the strangers ice, leafy eyes. Where Harry's eyes were more Avada Kedavra, this man's were watered down. They were so light in fact, Harry questioned if he was blind, before he threw that possibility away in favor of watching those sharp eyes watch him.

"Do not worry Mr. Potter." Hadn't he heard that before. Harry didn't flinch. His name was well known, so maybe this was just a well-to-do wizard, helping out. Harry could do without the air of mystery. It always seemed like the Lockharts were the ones who stalked him. "Since you are currently in the presence of an adult, the magic you just used will be recorded as being mine. I think we can both agree that no under aged magic was performed, can't we? At least… illegally."

Harry could only stare dumbly for a moment.

He was giving him a way out. Harry knew the punishment for disobeying this particular rule was harsh, expulsion from school and if the government was being particularly stingy, a wand snapping. This man was allowing him to take the chance to forget this ever happened.

Narrowing his eyes, seeing the Slytherin approach for what it was; Harry nodded. He didn't move his wand though.

"Who are you?" The man flashed a dazzling smile. He had to be some sort of politician. Maybe he was vying for Harry's support using blackmail. It wasn't often that Harry was caught doing something illegal and punished for it, after all. He had battled a basilisk and been given the house cup for Merlin's sake. Gotta love Albus Dumbledore, but even the students could see he was completely biased to what he felt was 'light'.

"I hardly think it matters, Mr. Potter."

"I hardly think it doesn't, Mr. Stranger." Retorted Harry quickly.

The stranger-politician-could-be-murderer chuckled. "Touché. My name is unimportant, if we meet in the future, I will be sure to introduce myself. It is only polite. Twice met, once greeted, if I'm not mistaken."

"For now I would just like to give you a piece of advice. If you would have it." The Stranger added.

Harry could let the man think what he wanted. If he didn't want to share his name, fine. Harry understood that need for anonymity. It wasn't often that strangers gave him good advice. Nor was it often that he was nearly semi-black mailed. Plus, he was stone cold tired. "What kind of advice?"

"What is good is not golden. What is light is not necessarily spotless. And it would do well to touch the shadows, for they do not bleed like most people think." The ominous space between his words gave Harry a chill. "Wouldn't you agree?"

Never knowing the right answer, Harry nodded his head.

"Good."

With a flash, the stranger Disapperated.

Harry kept on guard for another few seconds, tensed but ultimately sore. Fatigue won out in the end, and he lowered his wand. Noticing he hadn't heard a peep from Dudley since the stranger had arrived, he looked back to see the whale on his back, out cold. Which, honestly, didn't surprise Harry as much as he thought it would.

Dudley was a coward. He beat up ten year-olds for Merlin's sake. People like that just don't stay standing when a being of complete evil tries to suck their soul out.

Harry couldn't use magic, but having lived in the muggle world his whole life, it wasn't hard to awaken the sleeping giant. A gentle kick to the ribs almost always worked. That or a smelly sock, and Harry was honestly too tired to even think of taking his shoes off and being confident enough to put them back on.

So he picked the least of the violent ways. A good slap brought Dudley around on the second, or third try. Harry wasn't sure. On a good day being exhausted was not easy on the brain, and today of all days just made him tired and pissed and wanting to kick something that would break.

Getting Dudley to actually move afterwards, because of the 'pain' was close to maddening. Same as the stranger not revealing his name. But Harry managed it.

It was afterwards, where he found himself lock in his room because he had used 'freaky' magic in front of precious-Duders, that he finally tried to analysis his feelings on the matter. Aunt Petunia had been surprisingly knowledgeable about the Dementors and Azkaban, but then again, she had been raised with her sister, whether either of them wished it so. Knowing that the ministry would deny all involvement in any Dementor attack, Harry was going to have to keep quiet. Which was easier said than done. Especially when there was a potential blackmailer of the boy-who-lived running around all whilly-nilly.

He would talk to Arishoon tomorrow about it.

:And the man jusssst left?: Arishoon asked, cocking her head to the side. Harry always thought she had some doglike qualities, and this was just one of them.

:Yesssss. He ssssaid he would keep it a sssssecret, but I do not have a clue assss to why.:

Harry and Arishoon were currently sprawled in the backyard, relatively protected by the high fence that Aunt Petunia had erected because the neighbors were too 'obnoxious.' The snake was in the grass, which served as a nice camouflage just in case one of the Dursleys came out and saw Harry hissing at a snake. Harry knew that would not go over well, and the semblance of balance he had been feeling as of late would be gone. He could almost feel bars being erected round his windows.

Then again, the peace was already shattered after the whole Dementor fiasco.

:Do you think he will?:

Harry pondered Arishoons question. The man could have killed him. Any Death Eater would have given the chance, so that crossed that possibility off the list, unless Voldemort had changed his stripes. Which Harry would love, but knew would never happen unless the world spun off its axis.

Then again, the Stranger didn't feel like an ally.

:I… I am unsssssure.: Harry planted his chin firmly into the grass. :Why can't my life be normal?:

Arishoon hissed a laugh, :If you had a normal life Ssssspeaker child, we would never have met.:

Harry had to chuckle at that. Over the past week that he had gotten to know Arishoon, she had made a place in his life. Which had had plenty full of holes to begin with. She was a snake with a lot of attitude, but quite a sweet heart. Her humor was on par with his, so they didn't have a lot of awkward silence as he had had with Ron. The intelligence she displayed was also mind-numbing. For a snake, she was a genius even if she didn't understand the finer points of human society.

Then again, neither did Harry.

I mean, Harry thought to himself, why on earth are they called tea-cozies?

:Ssssince we cannot change the sssssituation, perhaps a change of ssssssubject would be bessssst.: Arishoon said, crawling her way forward onto his shoulder. He was shirtless again, on account of the fact he had been working until Arishoon had come through the garden to speak to him. Harry allowed her to snuggle her way to the best spot, waiting for her to settle against his shoulders before sitting up. This was to help her get some much needed sunlight, and also because Arishoon liked to be close to him. Harry understood that his skin was much warmer than any rock in the summer time, and Arishoon was quite partial to him. Or rather, his skin.

Arishoon herself did not try and hid this fact from him. She was honest. As only an animal could be.

:You will be leaving soon.:

Harry nodded his head, careful of her placement. She had not brought up his leaving before, so this must be a fairly recent thought in her little brain. Harry watched the lone tree in the backyard sway in an imaginary wind, responding with a sigh. He was quite happy to be going back to Hogwarts and away from the Dursleys, but if he wasn't slightly miffed with the lack of conversation, he might have been even happier.

:What of it?: There were many animals out today. Butterflies fluttered around the back garden, birds twittered. It was a nice day to be alive.

:I wissssh to come with you.:

Well, that was unexpected. Blinking, Harry sat very still.

Arishoon had never given any indication that she wanted to come to Hogwarts. In fact, she was against magic in general. She believed it made people complacent. She had said so almost every day since they'd met. So why did she want to come with him? What did she get out of it? Harry was quite used to people using him for his fame, or something else. It was usually money. Even though Arishoon was a snake… surely she would too.

Stiffening, Harry raised his palm silently to Arishoon's face, watching as she left his shoulders to gather around his wrist. She didn't hesitate. She simply slithered. There was trust in her movements and Harry couldn't face her. Instead he looked past her, at the shrubs. Arishoon waited patiently for Harry to come around, it wasn't his fault that he was caught off guard.

Plus, Arishoon had been planning this for quite a while. If Harry left, there was a very good chance he would never return, and to her, that was absolutely incomprehensible. She quite liked her human. And she wanted to keep him as safe as she could. Whether it be by banking his temper with word play, or just being there to talk to; Arishoon had no doubt that Harry would need her this coming year.

After what he had poured out to her already, about the Wizarding Tournament and the death of one of the champions, Arishoon knew he would need her. Whether he accepted that now or later, was to be seen.

The emerald scales shone in the light as Harry asked quietly, :Why?:

Arishoon was saddened to hear the disbelief in his voice. She blamed the muggles for this point of view in Harry's life. It was another thing she hoped to remedy with her being close to him. He needed someone besides a child to tell him his plans could go terribly, terribly wrong. The Hermione child seemed reasonable, but they were not yet out of their infantile stage. She was bound to make mistakes.

:Ssssomeone needsssss to keep you ssssafe. The mugglessss have failed. The wizzardsss have failed. Why not allow I to try?:

Breath catching in his throat, Harry faced her finally. Her bright onyx eyes showed hints of red, and he couldn't help but raise a single finger to rub under her chin. Arishoon always appreciated it when he did it, and Harry really wanted to thank her with so much more. With an excuse like that, how could he say no? Nobody usually cared enough about him to fight for him. Or against him. Ron hadn't. The only one who cared was Hermione most times. Dumbledore mainly thought he cared, but Harry was hard pressed to agree with his views on his protection. So it was usually only Hermione. However misguided they both were at times, that told him how things really were.

Harry was sure it was because she was so smart, and most people didn't know how to handle her. Socially awkward was Hermione and Harry's middle named after all.

So... what was the harm of allowing a garden variety snake to follow him to one of the most magical places in all of the country? What could it possibly change?

:I would be honored if you would accompany me.:

Arishoon almost smiled, he was sure of it.

Harry received one single letter on the morning of August 12th, from none other than Remus Lupin. It arrived during breakfast, as an owl flew through the window, dropped the mail and then sat on the window pane as if waiting for him to read. It also snatched a piece of Dudley's bacon, which Harry was sure traumatized him even more than the Dementor attack.

The Dursley's had made quite a fuss, and Harry had told the owl to wait upstairs in his room for him. He was sure to have a reply. The owl gave a hoot of irritation but bacon in beak flew off, Harry was sure he would find the little poof of brown cuddling with Hedwig whenever he managed to get back to his room. Hedwig liked to have snuggling affairs whenever Harry wasn't in the room. He thought it was on account of her size and lovability, but he wasn't sure.

The entire time Harry was at the table, he was feeling both miffed and excited. This was the first letter he had gotten from the people who were magical in weeks. Three almost to be exact. He opened the letter just as Dudley whined pitifully, "Why does Harry get to read his mail at the table? I don't get to read my mail at the table."

As disturbing as it was to finally be called Harry by someone, especially Dudley, it was much better than the usual freak comment. Or boy.

With glares following him Harry left the breakfast table without so much as a backward glance. He practically ran up the steps until he threw open the door, making the two owls who were, in fact, cuddling bristle in anger. Harry ignored them, and settled cross-legged on the bed.

The seal on the letter was already broken, and he could now soak in the words as fast as possible without any distractions.

The letter was simple and a lot shorter than Harry wanted it to be.

Inscribed was the following:

Harry my boy- Remus here,

How has your summer been? Probably dreadful, on account of the muggles. Can't say I would blame you if you never talk to any of us again, on account of the owl ban. Dumbledore thought that one up, surprised, eh? Can't say I am. In fact, everyone here is mostly livid. Hermione says she has many things to share. Ron wants you to know he beat Fred and George in a chess match. Padfoot says hello, and he apparently has a few tricks to show you.

I've got to cut to the chase, on account of the whole Weasley clan breathing down my neck.

This isn't just a letter of pleasantries, either, I've been given the honor of informing you that tomorrow at 8 o'clock sharp you are to be ready to begin your summer. The right way, mind you.

Keep your chin up Harry,

Remus Lupin

It was so short. Was the very first thought in Harry's mind. It barely told him anything. He felt relief that he would be leaving, but his disappointment that this was all he was getting for his three week silent-hiatus pissed him off, to be frank. He sat on his bed, discarding the letter to the side.

A sentence each. That was all he had gotten, and not even everyone had contributed.

There were many times in Harry's like when he felt worthless. His below par school average when he had been in primary school was such a time, and contrary to the very popular belief- his Aunt and Uncle had little to do with that. Dudley just thought it was funny to burn his homework, and the teachers had not been able to do anything for him. So they failed him. Many times.

He had remembered the despair he had felt, knowing that it was not his fault, but that he was still being punished for it. That was how he felt now. There was a hollow area in his chest. And Harry could only do one thing to fill it. Properly.

Bypassing the snuggling owls, Harry penned a quick reply that sounded flat even when repeated in his own mind-voice, before handing it off to the poof. The owl hooted in resigned understanding before flying off. Hedwig nipped his fingers and he couldn't help but stroke her under her chin. No matter if she was dumber than Arishoon, she was still incredibly clever. She readjusted herself on her perch and watched him walk down stairs in a much more subdued mood than before.

None of the Dursleys even noticed as he walked straight out back and proceeded to call out, :Arisssshoon. Aaaarrrrisssshoooon.:

The garden was not silent at night. Many of the night creatures made their songs quite known at this time at evening; right after the sun had set. The fluttering of wings touching wings, chitters, and all around symphony of sounds calmed Harry significantly.

:Sssspeaker child!: Arishoon called out as she crawled along a particularly bricked path. :What bringssss you out at thisssss time of night?:

Harry instinctively reached his hand down, offering the warmth his long sleeve shirt was sure to propose to her. She hissed her approval and Harry made her she was comfortable, with her head resting on the back of his hand before he began.

:I received a letter…:

He explained for half a minute, before the small snake interrupted. :Why do they jusssst asssssume you will come away with them after sssssuch treatment?:

:I have no choice.: Harry responded, cocking his head. He had never actually thought of denying them, but that was mostly because he was still under-aged and his friends were there. Everywhere and anywhere was better than the Dursleys.

:Why?:

Harry hissed in annoyance. Not at Arishoon of course, nothing was her fault, but she always managed to pose the right questions.

:I… They are my family, of ssssortssss. We may not agree on certain thingsssss, but we are on the sssssame ssssside.:

That felt like the right answer, but it also didn't impress the quite right emotion he wanted. It was shallow, if Harry was being honest. Considering he didn't exactly know what a family was supposed to be like, he felt he wasn't quite qualified to answer this specific question.

:Then make it known when you arrive. Let them know you will no longer be taking any of thisss laying down.: Arishoon hissed, pooling her body in such a way that she looked ready to strike. :You are important in your world, correct?:

Harry nodded, sitting on the steps of the porch.

:Then they have no reassssson to treat you assss sssssuch. Do not jusssst give up. You are ssssstrong, Harry Potter. Do not allow them to take that from you.:

Harry sat outside for a while longer, thanking Arishoon by providing his company and his warmth.

How on earth had he managed to get through life without the onyx, eyed snake before all of this?

The next night, Harry sat in the sitting room, right off the hallway from the front door, waiting for the clock to chime 8 o'clock. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were very proud of their hallway that led to all places of the house excluding the upstairs, thank you very much. They were also so proud they couldn't bare the thought of freaks like Harry himself mudding their hallway, so they had left. They were apparently firm believes of "If I didn't see it happen, it didn't happen."

Which made sense, as Harry thought back on his childhood.

:Thissss place ssssmellssss grosssss.: Arishoon hissed for the umpteenth time from around his shoulders. For a snake, she didn't usually repeat herself unless she was trying to make a point. Harry was hard pressed to understand it, especially since he was aware that the Muggle home was very… well, proper was the only word he could use. It was clean, prim, and so bloody proper Harry had cleaned it to specifications even the royal family would scoff at. And yes, to a snake it might smell a little off with all the artificial smells floating around.

The clock chimed before Harry could respond to Arishoon's repeated commentary. The bells clanging inside the wooden box lasted all of eight times, and then there was a series of two knock's at the door. With a smile and a gratified thought of "this is it," Harry rose to answer the door. All of Harry's things managed to fit into one single chest and he left it at the foot of the stairs so that one of the adults could shrink it for him. Everything was in order. He opened the door to the facing of one smiling Remus Lupin.

"Harry!" Remus Lupin, for all the wrong connotations that floated around about werewolves, was incredibly passionate and loving. He was the partial reason that Harry couldn't stay mad forever, especially when he came to get him. My hero, Harry thought sardonically. Remus swept him up in a hug and Arishoon hissed in his ear. Uncomfortable with the proximity of the smell of were-wolf.

Harry felt Remus stiffen, before letting go quickly. Harry missed the feeling of being hugged, but quickly patted Arishoon on the head. :Be nice. Thissss is Remusssss. He isssss a nice man.:

:Sssssmellssss of wolf, not human.: Arishoon sniffed in disdain, glaring at the man who had come so close to her without permission.

"You have a snake on your shoulder." Remus stated with wide eyes. Harry was about to answer when another voice spoke from behind the man in the door.

"What, only Remus gets any acknowledgement?" And that was the only reason Harry had any reason to look any further behind his wolfy-god-father of sorts. "Geesh Harry, didn't think the Muggles would ruin you in three weeks."

The man who had spoken had to be a Weasley. That red hair, those freckles- all Weasley. The muscles and roughish grin, were a little on the not-so-Weasley-ish side. Harry could only grin at the Weasley that was rarely ever seen, because of his placement in Romania.

"Charlie!" Harry greeted with a grin, letting his eyes ghost over the others. He had never met the woman who's hair was a bright pink, but by the way she was beaming at him she probably knew him. Not very shocking, considering everyone knew him. Mad-Eye was standing beside her, glaring down at Harry. The magical eye was still odd and made Harry feel slimy, but he waved it away.

"Uhm, hello? Who are you?" Harry said to the woman he hadn't even a clue to her identity.

The pink bundle lit up like a firework and her hair changed to a bright almost blinding yellow. "Wotcher' Harry! My names Nymphadora Tonks, prefer if you'd just call me Tonks, thank you a bunch."

"It's nice to meet you, Tonks." Harry said, holding out his hand for her to shake. Much like everyone else of the wizarding world, she waved his arm up and down in excitement. Harry was very pleased to note she let go directly afterwards and just kind of smiled dreamily, as her hair turned a muddled green, then back to pink.

Harry stared for a moment before coming back to himself. It wasn't proper to allow guest to just dawdle in the doorway.

"Come on in." Harry waved them all forward, and after the four of them all stepped over the thresh-hold he closed the door. It was a nice night outside, but his Aunt and Uncle would have kittens if Harry allowed the neighbors to gossip. "My Aunt and Uncle have left for the night, so I just need to lock up."

He'd leave the key under the door as their specification's ordered him to.

"Is this all ya' have lad?" Moody asked, flicking his wand at the chest and shrinking it. Tonks had already grabbed Hedwig's cage, the bird sat on her shoulder. There was a letter she was currently tying around the birds foot, but Harry supposed that was so the owl knew where to go. Harry nodded after checking off the mental list he had of everything for the third time that day.

"You have a snake on your shoulder." Remus repeated glaring at the offending snake. He said 'snake' like it was something particularly nasty. Arishoon just hissed back. "Why on earth do you have a snake with you?"

:Sssstupid wolf.:

"She's my friend, if you must know Remus." Harry answered with an eye roll, before bopping Arishoon on the nose. She looked offended and glared at him in the way only a snake could, with her neck in an 'S'. :Be nice. Not hissss fault for hissss predicament.:

"Can she be trusted?" Mad-Eye-Moody asked, glancing the little snake over with narrowed eyes. Obviously, she was garden variety, but Harry didn't think he could convince the others of this, except maybe Charlie. He was looking over the snake with a smile. At least Charlie would be on his side. Dragons and snakes were close cousins, it made sense.

Arishoon and Harry shared a upside-down glance, and then Harry smiled at the sheer stupidity of that question, "Arishoon is quite trust worthy. Believe me. She's been a huge help over the summer."

"Oh let him be, it's just a harmless snake." Charlie snorted, coming slightly closer to get on the snakes level. He didn't do anything but look her over and give Harry another smile. "She's barely over a foot. Do you really think she's going to strangle us all in our sleep?"

Remus was silent, but grumbled.

"Good enough for me." Mad-Eye-Moody answered, "Can she handle Apparition?"

That was the closest thing to worry as Harry had ever heard from anyone over a snake. Harry forced himself to blink before giving a response. Arishoon and Harry had already discussed the kind of transportation they would have to face. "She should be fine. Doesn't like being squeezed through a hole much, but I haven't met a snake that does."

Mad-Eye nodded and Charlie beamed at Arishoon.

Tonks and Remus shared a look, which was a mixture of… well, quite a lot of different things. Tonks seemed confused and worried and Remus was just unhappy. This was not how Harry had wanted to arrive in their minds, but it had to be done. Harry wasn't going to just leave Arishoon. Not after having her for almost two weeks and feeling as though that loss would tear him apart. He hadn't been able to confide in anyone else over the summer. And even if Harry could admit it to himself, his mental health was not the best on a good day.

He had had a lot to work through. Cedric's death was something they touched on rarely, but Harry felt he could recover successfully after his last talk with Arishoon over it. Especially what he had been told by her, after spilling all his fears about Cedric's death being his fault.

Arishoon had looked at him, her snake eyes completely unreadable and said, :Sssspeaker child. Am I resssssponsssssible for watching a bird caught by another bird, fall to the ground? Or for another ssssnake being eaten?:

:Of course not. You're a ssssnake: Harry had responded, :But that isssss not the ssssame-:

:Isssn't it?: She silenced him.

:You are only human, Harry Potter. Extraordinary? Yessss. Old enough to carry the weigh of the world on your sssshoulderssss? Never.:

Arishoon left him alone after that, claiming she needed to hunt. But Harry knew she was giving him time to think. It had been just what he needed. And he felt like he could heal because of it.

"Are you ready Harry?" Charlie asked cutting off his train of thought. The dragon tamer was apparently in charge of apparating with him, on account of the others having their hands full of his things. With a smile, a quick hiss at Arishoon to confirm her contentment; Harry nodded.

It was in quick succession that they locked the door behind them, left the key in their wake, walked outside of the wards, and then held on for dear life; before Harry was ultimately whisked away into the night. Going to a place he hoped would be much better than Private Drive, and from past experience to back him up: knew for certain they were going to a better place.

Arishoon knew it would be better in some ways, but also worse. Harry was just a child. The man who presided over the castle Harry would be at didn't seem like a very trustworthy or sane individual, either. Harry was still quite innocent.

Somehow, she knew this year would change that. She was fiercely proud that she would be standing with him when that time came. Whatever it may be.

So what did you guys think? I always love reviews and they make me write faster!

:D Sooooo, review please?