A/N My first attempt, don't know where it is heading. Save some personal characters, all things "Harry Potter" belong to JKR, there is no money saught nor being made.

Beyond Hogwarts

Prologue

Through the mist that gathered along the shores of the lake of long past memories, stepped the man towards his unknown future. He no longer was the boy who frolicked along its shores or who swam within its comforting waters. Many a summer were spent by this lake and its surrounding forest. Not much had changed; the birds and the creatures still maintained the sweet melodies that brought him joy, as the fragrance of the plant life ensured security during a time of innocence. After a moments contemplation, and brief reverie, he proceeded towards the house he had come to know as home. As he approached the Burrow, sounds of long forgotten happy times reached his ears. From afar he could hear the laughter and the thrill of youthful exuberance. But these were not memories.

He had arrived during a celebration or at the very least a family gathering. But then again all family gatherings at the Burrow were a celebration. A celebration of life. Celebrations he had been fortunate to have been a part of. But now…he stopped his progress and contemplated his decision … can he become a part again or would he merely be imposing upon those who have long forgotten? It has been 15 years since he left the comfort of his friends and adopted family, and much had changed. He no longer was the gullible and confused Boy-Who-Lived. He was no longer prone to manipulation and machinations. He had total control of his faculties. No longer could the Dumbledore's and Voldemort's use him as a pawn in their game of control. Games …with a smile he thought of his mate…Ron…how's he going to feel when he can no longer beat him at chess? With this thought he continued towards the house.

Upon reaching its entry he noted boots and shoes of all shapes and sizes lined up along its entry, as well as, cloaks and robes struggling to secure a place on the hall tree. From within he could hear the murmur of lively conversations and the joyful banter of children at play.

He knocked on the door and a moment later the door opened slightly.

"Hello?"

Following the direction from which the squeaky voice came, he looked down towards a small child with flaming red hair and cool blue eyes, with a questionable expression on her face.

"Can I help you?" The child asked.

"Um, I hope so. Is Ro…"

Before he could answer, he heard from within the house…

"Whose at the door Adrianna?"

"I don't know, he hasn't told me." Responded the child.

At this the door swung fully opened and the figure of the senior Weasely stood before him. Mr. Weasely directed the child back into the house, then facing him inquired…'yes, how may we help you?"

The inquiry send a chill throughout his being…had he changed so much?

"Well, um…I'm looking for Ron, Ron Weasely. May I speak with him?"

I'm sorry sir but that will not be possible…you see…hello?…Merlin's beard…is it really you? As recognition spread through the elder Weasely faced, culminating in the trade mark family smile and rosy color, he stepped forward and engulfed him in a long missed Weasely hug.

"Boy is it really you? How are you? Where have you been?"

Before he could answer he was pulled into the house and was practically dragged towards the living room, were the family was gathered.

Hello everyone looks who's here.

The gathered, each stopping their current activity, turned around and faced the new guest, with either a blank or questioning expression, uttered a hello.

He in turn replied in kind as he looked around the room and recognized its occupants. Had he been dumped in the lake in the middle of winter, he would have not felt as cold as he felt at the moment. Not one expression of recognition was forth coming from the lot.

Turning his attention to the elder Weasely, he again was going to ask to speak to his mate, when from the kitchen he recognized the voice of Mrs. Weasely, calling for help in setting up the table. A moment later the Weasely matriarch entered the living room, fists on her hips and a scowl on her face. No one responded to her request. However, before she let her tirade upon the lot, she noticed him.

"Oh, hello, who might you be?"

He turned from facing Mr. Weasely, whose smile appeared to be lighting up the whole room, and looked down to her, and almost in a whisper uttered "Hello."

In an instant she surveyed him from head to toe. His manner of dress was not consistent with her world. He wore a red silk shirt, unbuttoned at the collar with ruffled long sleeves and tucked in black pleaded trousers. Around his neck he wore a red and black beaded necklace with a charm consisting of a rooster, a long knife and a double headed axe. He stood about six foot tall, with long and messy ebony hair, tied in a pony tail that reached halfway down his back. He had a tan complexion, a scar that ran from his right temple down over his right eye then down to the right side of his mouth. His eyes were almost emerald green and held a sadness she had never forgotten.

She uttered "Harry", as she fainted into his arms.

Harry picked Molly Weasely into his arms and took her directly towards the sofa, which was vacated instantly, and gently laid her upon it. As the room began to respond to what had just happened and a barrage of questions where laid upon him, he raised his left hand and arching it over his head, uttered "restricto" , where-upon everyone froze in place.

From within a pocket in his trousers he pulled out a small pouch which contained nnumerous colored packets. He opened a pink packet and with his thumb and fore finger took a pinch of its contents, then rubbed them just below her nose.

Within seconds Mrs. Weasely began to move and breath normally. A few seconds more and her eyes began to flutter, as she regained consciousness and slowly began to sit up. She looked around the room and with concern and bated breath noticed the unanimated state of her family. When her view fell upon Harry, she released her breath and as her hands went up to his shoulders, she smiled, the motherly smile that always made him feel at home.

"Harry dear how are you?"

"I'm fine."

Are you sure? And with this her left hand reached up and was placed upon the right side of his face. Gently she traced the scar its full length with her fingers, then both her hands traveled to his hair, where upon she pulled his head towards her . She kissed his forehead next to the scar, as though wishing it away, then as both foreheads rested upon each other and their eyes search each other, she asked "why?"

Harry, lost in her tear filled eyes squinted in response, as he understood her question, as it did not refer to scar, but rather "Why" he came to be separated from his family and friends.

As he contemplated his response, Molly noticed an indifference, a dullness in his once sparkling emerald eyes. He was no longer the lonely loveless little boy she had first seen off at platform nine and three quarters. Nor did he appear to be the selfless little hero who took blame and responsibility for others' misfortune. No, before her was a man with purpose. A confident man with purpose. A man who would not rest (and his eyes spoke volumes of his need to rest) till his task came to an end. Physically, Harry appeared healthy and strong as an ox. He had broad shoulders and muscular arms that felt like stone to the touch. His physical demeanor expressed nothing but determination.

The principle concern of his surrogate mother was, Is there anything left of Harry in this man?

Before Harry had a chance to say anything Molly placed her fingers upon his lips and said, "In time Harry, in time we'll have our answers. For now let us enjoy your return."

Harry took her hand in his, placed a kiss on each hand, then pulling her towards hiom embraced her as a single tear escaped his eyes, as he thought "I'm just not sure you are going to like the man I have become."