The seven year old looked at the book in wonder. It was ragged and seemed as if it should have already fallen apart. The boy shivered, something weird was going on and he was suspicious of the book, how had it gotten there without his family noticing it? Who put it there? He shut the small door behind him and lay on the bed, that's when he noticed the note sitting next to it.

To Harry Potter,

This book should help you with your living situation.

Heimdallr

Harry didn't recognize the name, not in the sense that he didn't know anybody with that name (he could never befriend the schoolchildren so he only really knew the Dursleys), but in the sense that the name was completely foreign to him in every way. He closed his eyes and tried to sift through his emotions and within a few minutes he had a tentative plan of action. It was a possibility that he was being pranked, he didn't think Dudley was bright enough to pull it off but if it was one of the adults doing this they wouldn't reveal themselves until they wanted to so there was no use in agonizing over it. He would try to read the book, assuming it wasn't a prank someone obviously wanted him to have it for a reason. Besides, he loved to read, the only problem was finding the books, there wasn't exactly much else to do while sitting in his cupboard under the stairs for hours a day (especially during the summer). He didn't know how he could look into the name Heimdallr but he commited the name to memory and resolved to look for an opportunity to do so.

The Dursleys had only just finished their dinner and his cupboard was locked so Harry knew he would have the rest of the night to himself. Feeling a lot more awake than he had when he had entered his "room" Harry turned his attention to the book, "Occulumency: Theory and Concepts". He read quickly and with more practice than most boys his age would have. The book was fairly basic and after a few pages he stopped worrying that he would accidentally rip it. The longer he read the more he understood why someone would have wanted him to have this book. It detailed some of the things one could achieve with Occulumency (which the book called mind magic but which seemed more like simple meditation to him). With this skill he could master his emotions and, according to the book, make his mind work for him instead of the other way around.

The book did mention several odd topics, it frequently spoke of dealing with other magic users and Harry glossed over those sections, as well as the short chapter on how one could use something called Legilimency to counter the Occulumency barriers the book was teaching him to create. He figured that this book might be older than he thought, he knew meditation was incredibly old, and the language that the book used was someone outdated, so it was perfectly possible that it was written in a time or place which equated mastering one's mind with magic. The hours passed, and Harry continued, alternating between reading and practicing the shorter exercises, deciding to save some of the heavier practice material for another time.

It was only when it was late at night that he considered stopping. His eyes were so tired they were falling closed in between words and he didn't think he'd actually absorbed any of the information from the last page. It was only the footsteps he heard above his head that broke the book's hold on him. With a quick motion he shut it and threw it in the space under his bed where he knew nobody would ever look. He braced himself and glared at the door which, after a faint click, slammed open.

"BOY!" Yelled the voice of one Vernon Dursley who berated him about not having breakfast ready. Harry found himself able to ignore the words, he had a quick hope that the Occlumency techniques he had been practicing already had a noticeable impact but he knew it was more likely that his lack of sleep was what was making it hard for him to pay attention, and soon his thoughts shifted from whatever his uncle was saying to the book hidden under his bed. It was weird, he wasn't planning on staying up all night reading it, and he definitely didn't notice how late it was getting. It was almost as if the book had some kind of hold on him, which was an irrational thought. More likely the idea that he could make himself be less affected by the verbal abuse he received daily was what had enthralled him to such an extent.

He breathed calmly, thinking of one of the exercises, put on his glasses and interrupted the Dursley before him.

"Excuse me, I'm going to make breakfast now."

He managed to control his emotions when the man's expression changed from simple anger to outright rage, he'd never been interrupted like this by Harry before. The boy for his part did his best to contain the strange rebellious emotions that were taking hold of him, at least on the outside, and he brushed passed his uncle to get to the kitchen.

What he wasn't expecting was the backhanded slap he received. His head was ringing even before it hit the wall and he crumpled to the floor. Dursley began to yell again at Harry's fallen form as the boy fought to stay conscious. It seemed that meditation could not save him from everything.

Harry wasn't sure what to make of what appeared to be some sort of glaring contest between his guardians and the man wearing light blue and red robes. His uncle looked calm and contained, but Harry could tell by looking at his eyes that he wouldn't need much of an excuse before he let his anger show. His aunt Petunia on the other hand was a nervous mess. She was sitting up rigidly but her whole body was shaking and her eyes were constantly darting between her husband, Harry, and the mysterious man.

The man had introduced himself as Headmaster Dumbledore and asked to come in, he didn't wait for an answer and Harry suspected he would have come in regardless of what the answer was. Now he sat on a couch with Harry (although the boy made sure there was a healthy amount of room between them) and the pair faced the Dursleys.

For a few uncomfortable minutes Dumbledore looked around the house curiously and examined each of them in turn, a strange twinkle in his bright blue eyes. Harry itched to ask the man questions but he judged that to be a bad idea based on how his uncle seemed to be handling this, although he wasn't normally this restrained, he was being uncharacteristically quiet which made Harry believe that the trio had met before, and the mysterious man had somehow scared his uncle... maybe. The man seemed to sense his burning curiosity and turned to him.

"Happy birthday, Harry."

"Err... thanks."

There was a short pause before he turned back to the Dursleys and confirmed Harry's suspicions.

"It's wonderful to see you again Petunia, Vernon. But where is your other son?"

Vernon began to sputter slightly and even Harry coughed a little at the use of the word "other". He had a nagging suspicion he was going to be punished no matter what he did, and pretty badly at that, so he decided to speak.

"Why are you here... sir?" he added belatedly.

"A wonderful question, my dear boy." The man beamed at him. "Tell me, Harry, what do you know about your parents?"

It was that moment that Harry realized he had made a mistake and he was immediately on his guard, throwing up the apathetic persona he'd been cultivating nearly every waking moment of his life since he received the old book from Heimdallr. At nearly the same moment he felt an odd sensation in his head, something akin to bugs crawling around his head and he yelped and tried to brush them off. The feeling stopped and he composed himself quickly, doing his best not to shake and becoming apathetic once more.

"They were killed in a drunk driving accident, sir. Seeing as they were the ones drinking I've made up my mind about them and never looked for any more information."

The man looking vaguely troubled during his explanation and looked over to his guardians, then turned back to Harry.

"Harry, I'm sure your aunt and uncle had their reasons for telling you that." He paused, giving the pair a deliberate look, "they were killed in a war ten years ago, they were soldiers."

Harry's mind started to race, what did this mean for him? He would have to reevaluate how he felt about his parents when he was more focused. But did this mean that he could be going to live with an old friend of his parents'? No, that wouldn't make sense, if any of his parents' friends from the war had survived surely they would have come by years ago. His heart deflated, he couldn't be getting his hopes up like that, it would just make his uncle angrier later tonight. Harry wondered what war they had fought in, Vietnam? No... he didn't think the dates matched up. He'd have to look up up later if he could. His stream of thought was interrupted by Dumbledore.

"Can you do something for me, Harry? Could you lift up your shirt?"

Harry froze at the question, he spared a look at his aunt and uncle and they might as well have been statues, staring at him as well. It seemed that everyone in the room knew what was about to happen and Harry took a moment to do a few quick Occlumency exercises which were meant to help bring him down to a calm state during stressful situations. For the first time Harry wondered if the older man was from social services, he'd had it beaten into him at a young age that he didn't have any family and he didn't have anywhere else to go except the Dursleys' place. And he'd heard too many horror stories about orphanages to consider them. He tried to think of a way out of the situation but in the end resigned himself and lifted his shirt, revealing an angry purple welt starting from the top of his abdomen and reaching up to his collarbone.

"That will do, Harry," said the man, his eyes no longer twinkling. He turned back to the Dursleys, "I presume you remember our arrangement almost ten years ago? I didn't think I'd have to be stopping by to protect the boy from his family."

Uncle Vernon spoke up for the first time, "you asked us to take him in, we took him in. What happens while he is under our roof is our business, not yours."

"I asked you to take care of him, Vernon, this-" he gestured to Harry's torso, "-this is not care."

Vernon licked his lips before he responded, "so long as we receive our... funding... we will consider your words and reevaluate our actions."

Dumbledore was already shaking his head, "I'm afraid that just won't do." He stood up and gestured to Harry, "please Harry, get your things from your room and we can leave."

Harry was torn, on one hand, it seems that this man did come to take him away which was something he never let himself think about because of the slim chances of it ever happening, he wasn't sure how to feel. On the other hand, this was a strange man he'd never met before, he'd made agreements with the Dursley's which meant he either was a bad person, or a bad judge of character, and there was absolutely no guarantee that he wouldn't just whisk Harry away to somewhere that was ten times worse.

Dumbledore, sensing Harry's hesitation spoke up, "what's the matter, my boy?"

"Sir... did you know my parents?"

"I knew them very well, Harry. You could say I was their general."

Harry nodded, it relaxed him even though he knew it could all be a lie. But the more he thought about it the more he realized that if he didn't take this chance now he would be stuck with the Dursleys for many years to come, and as much as he had made himself accept that fact for his entire life, he knew that was something he didn't want.

"I'll get my things."

He took five steps to his cupboard and crawled inside, he grabbed an old drawstring bag and shoved his Occlumency book inside, along with the note that came with it. The book had been invaluable to his sanity and he had mastered many of the exercises contained within it, and read the entire thing several times over (even the nonsense bits). It was the only possession he actually cared about.

"I'm ready," he said coming out of the cupboard and walking towards Dumbledore who was staring at the Dursley's with an incredulous look on his face. Vernon stayed defiant but Petunia looked like she wanted to disappear.

"Let's go Harry, I'll explain everything when we're in a safer place."

Harry nodded, but then asked, "sir, what war did my parents fight in?"

Dumbledore smiled softly at Harry as he replied, "they fought in a wizarding war, Harry. Your parents, James and Lily, were wizards. You're a wizard too."

Before Harry could react to this startling revelation Dumbledore turned to the Dursleys one final time, "expect me."

The next moment Harry felt a shocking yet painless burning sensation, and they were gone.

"Abbott, Hannah."

"...HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Bones, Susan."

"...HUFFLEPUFF!"

Harry shuffled nervously as Professor McGonagall called each of them up to be sorted. He tried to remember the names of everyone around him but found that his anxiousness made that fairly difficult.

"Granger, Hermione."

"...GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry smiled as he saw the girl he met on the train beaming and walking over to her new house's table. At least he knew one person. Ironically when Dumbledore took him away from the Dursley's the only place for him to stay was with Mrs. Figg, who lived next door. He had made sure to stay inside and away from the windows for the last four weeks of summer, and judging by certain hints Dumbledore had dropped there were other protections Harry wasn't aware of over the house. When Mrs. Figg had taken him to King's Cross he met Hermione who somehow recognized him. They swapped stories about their lives and when Hermione had finished picking him for the small amount of information about the wizarding world he possessed they discussed the reading material for the first year, which they had both already finished.

"Malfoy, Draco."

"...SLYTHERIN!"

Some people the hat took a minute to sort, and some were sorted the instant they placed it on their head. Draco belonged in the latter group and Harry frowned at his sorting. It wasn't technically correct to say that Hermione was the only person he had met. During their conversation Draco had stormed into their compartment with two of his friends, insulted his new friend, made a few choice remarks about Harry, and then said it would be beneficial if the two of them worked together (Harry assumed it was his way of asking to be friends). Hermione was immediately angry at the boy but Harry had given him the benefit of the doubt and asked him a few questions. For the next ten minutes Draco went on about Slytherin, house of the cunning and ambitious and how "anybody who's anybody gets sorted into Slytherin, Potter."

He had tried to keep a straight face, he had even done some Occlumency exercises and brought forth apathetic Harry, but he couldn't help it, he started giggling. Draco was going on about how he was going to be in the house of the cunning all the while showing less cunning than, well, Dudley. It was too much.

Apparently the boy had taken offense and despite Harry's loud apologies he had stormed away, allowing the pair to continue their ... seeing this... Harry was worried that Slytherin house had lower standards than Draco had assumed... or maybe he just really didn't fit in any of the other houses. He had been thinking that Slytherin sounded like a good place for him but now he was reconsidering.

"Potter, Harry."

He froze, then began the slow walk towards the center of the great hall. He started to strengthen his Occlumency barriers before he remembered Dumbledore's words, that the hat had some sort of magic that allowed it to look into one's mind without passing their shields. Then he changed his mind, deciding that somebody telling him that something couldn't be done wasn't a reason not to try. It was a little funny to him, ever since he learned that Occlumency was real magic he'd been putting a lot more effort into his exercises and had made some definite progress with some of the harder pieces of it. In a world where anybody could learn to read your mind it seemed like common sense to be able to defend yourself, and he had been shocked that a large number of wizards didn't develop any mental defenses until their seventh year at Hogwarts.

Harry had shown his book to Dumbledore who had unfortunately never heard of a Heimdallr. He had returned the book as soon as he was sure there was no malicious magic on it, looking incredibly unnerved. When he had gotten his book back Harry had looked at Dumbledore very seriously and asked him to read his mind. His blood ran cold as he felt a variation of the familiar "bugs in your head" sensation which meant that Dumbledore had tried to read his mind before, and had read the mind of the Dursleys (probably why he was so well informed about Harry's living situation).

Dumbledore had assured him that his barriers were as strong as most adults, and encouraged him to continue practicing telling him that there would be more books at Hogwarts he would be able to use to learn the finer pieces of the art.

All he could think of was the horror of someone reading his mind.

He finally reached the conjured podium and lifted the sorting hat onto his head.

Well well well, what do we- no.

No? No what?

No, I'm not dealing with this. Nope. Any preference?

Er.. Gryffindor?

Before he had finished thinking the word the hat had yelled it out and hopped off of Harry's head, leaving him standing there confused as ever. Was it simply the students who chose their own houses then? That couldn't possible work, there were too many problems with that... he began to walk towards the Gryffindor, ignoring the laughter all around him and the confused glances of several professors. Apparently the hat didn't normally jump off of students' heads.

There would be time to think about this later, Harry put on a big smile and sat down next to Hermione and decided to enjoy the rest of his night.

Cooomme to meeee...

Harry awoke in a cold sweat. It wasn't the first time he had this dream, nor was it a nightmare by any means, but tonight it had been so realistic he could still smell the dank air around him.

He glanced at the clock on the wall, a little after four in the morning.

"Shit," he muttered, getting out of bed and getting dressed. He knew from experience he wouldn't be getting any sleep after that dream. He glanced at the beds around him, they were all empty save Dean's, the rest had all gone home for the Easter holidays.

Harry sighed and swore silently to himself before deciding to grab his invisibility cloak and leave the Gryffindor tower (ignoring the Fat Lady's annoyed mutterings at being woken up).

He walked with purpose, making his way towards the moving staircases. He wasn't worried about being caught, hardly anyone was in the school this week so he doubted he would run into anybody patrolling.

Harry's mind wandered back to the dream, it always contained the same elements, a snake talking to him, telling him to find it, to open the chamber and meet it. The first one came to him his first night at Hogwarts, right after the sorting. After that it would repeat itself every couple of months, each time with more clarity. Tonight was the first time he had been told where he could find the chamber.

The castle seemed to be moving with him, he normally travelled down five long flights of stairs to get down to the second floor, but tonight it had only taken three. He walked for a few more minutes until he made it to the girl's bathroom. He didn't hesitate before pulling off his cloak and walking in.

Find my sssssnake, he had been told in the dream. Harry assumed it meant some sort of a picture of engraving would mark the entrace of the chamber. He spent thirty seconds taking a cursory glance around the room before he noticed the brown snake coiled inside one of the sinks, a yellow marking behind its head.

:Yoooouuuuu: hissed the snake

:Meeeeeeee: Harry agreed, nodding sagely. The snake's eyes flashed in annoyance and the pair stayed silent for a minute before it responded.

:Aren't you going to assssk me how I'm talking?:

Funnily enough Harry had been thinking that, he didn't know if the snake wanted to attack him or not and he thought it best not to admit any ignorance to a potential enemy.

:What's your name:

The snake, obviously annoyed that the conversation wasn't going according to its plan replied rather curtly, :Natrix:

:Natrix, that's a nice name, is it short for anything? I'm Harry:

:Yesssss, short for Natrix Natrix:

Harry smiled as he recognized the name, Natrix was glaring at him expectantly.

:So how's your day been Natrix?:

:You're a parsssseltongue, you sssspeak the language of the sssnakes. A gift given only to the heirssss of Sssslytherin:

:Well obviously:

:How did you know?:

:I'm talking to a snake aren't I?: Harry smirked as he parsed this new information, he hadn't even realized he'd been talking in another language until he started actively thinking about it. Thinking about it was probably a mistake because now every time he spoke he felt like he was about to forget it. The snake was obviously aggravated by this point and Harry didn't want to spoil the scene by laughing, but it was hard not to when the snake got out of the sink and started "pacing" the floor, moving around in figure eights as they spoke. It looked at him and somehow Harry could tell it was annoyed, but fortunately for him the snake remained non-venomous (unless, and Harry kicked himself for not thinking of this earlier, it was a magic snake with magical abilities and magical venom. Harry decided to ignore that train of thought because by that logic he should be afraid of literally everything).

:Go here and ssssssay open:

As soon as the snake finished the sentence the sinks opened up and moved to the side, revealing a large, smelly, gaping pipe.

:Dammit you were ssssupposed to do that:

:The password is open?: Harry raised his eyebrow.

:Sssssssssss: The snake threatened. :Come down:

Harry examined the open pipe, eyeing the green muck around it suspiciously. On one hand, it sounded like this was some sort of crazy Slytherin secret and he doubted this snake, or whatever was down the pipe, would like it very much if he spread it around. On the other, well, he was Harry Potter, and he knew he was famous, this could easily be someone's plot to kill him. Well maybe not easily considering that they would have either had to find this chamber, or create it, but still...

One thing was for certain, he wasn't going down there without a way to get back up.

:I'm coming back in fifteen minutes:

:What? No come here now, kid come back. Fucking firssst yearsss:

Harry walked quickly, throwing his cloak back on. It was probably still fairly early in the morning considering is was dark outside,but he didn't want to waste any time.

Harry wondered if he was right to be doing this himself instead of telling Dumbledore or one of the professors, but he still had some mistrust for Dumbledore (although he hadn't tried to enter his mind since that first day, and Harry's defenses had only gotten better since then), and the professors would all report this to him.

Besides, he thought, this could lead him closer to finding Heimdallr, after some research he learned that Heimdallr was a mythical Norse figure who was supposed to possess foreknowledge, he had been getting powerful gifts and he wouldn't be surprised if Heimdallr knew that he would need them in the future. First was the book on Occlumency, then he received an invisibility cloak only a few months ago, and now he'd been given instructions on opening a secret chamber on the school. It was all a little bit... lucky... to be happening naturally, and none of Heimdallr's other gifts had harmed him in any way, hell they were among the most useful things he owned (even if he had moved onto more advanced material regarding Occlumency Harry still kept his first book for the sentimental value, it was his first introduction to magic after all).

He reached the shed on the quidditch pitch and tried the door, locked. He brandished his wand and channeled a bit of power into an Alohomora spell... nothing. He supposed there wouldn't be much point to having locks around the castle if anybody could open them with a first year charm. He'd have to do this the old fashion way, he thought as he brought out his homemade lock picking tools which he'd fashioned as soon as he realized they would let him leave the cupboard whenever he wanted. He'd only improved them over the years, although they were still quite shabby. Within a few minutes the door swung open and he grabbed one of the brooms on the side, bringing it under his cloak and making his way back to the castle.

:I'm back: he said to Natrix as he entered the washroom, visible once more.

:Jussst go: said the snake with its eyes closed.

With a disgusted look at the layer of sludge covering it Harry jumped down the pipe, broom in hand and invisibility cloak stuffed under his robes. Natrix came after him and the opening shut leaving them both in complete darkness until they landed feet first on a fungus growing on the otherwise rock hard floor.

:Slytherin really knew how to make someone feel welcomed:

:Sssssssssssss:

The pair walked- Harry walked down the tunnel, he cast a lumos and spent the rest of his energy trying to avoid the bones he could now see were lying everywhere.

What the- oh fuck. Harry stared, wide-eyed at the huge snake skin they were passing. It must've been about forty feet at a conservative estimate, it was probably closer to fifty or sixty.

He was wondering if he had made a mistake coming here, Natrix was harmless, there was no way that thing couldn't kill him if it wanted to. He saw Natrix bobbing its head up and down and could almost feel it laughing, although it stayed silent.

They came to a wall with two entwined snakes engraved into it, and it split open as they approached, revealing a large chamber, similar in size and shape to the great hall. Natrix turned to him, :Harry, meet the basilisk. Try not to meet its eyes:

Harry quickly looked towards the ground but he saw Natrix sliding towards the basilisk in his peripheral vision, and fusing with the basilisk. He wasn't sure if that should scare or reassure him.

:I didn't expect to ssssee an heir of Sssslytherin here for many more yearssss:

:Yet here I am. I'm Harry:

:I know:

:What happens if I look into your eyes?:

:You die:

:That's... unfortunate:

:Ssssssssssss: said the basilisk, which seemed to be the snake equivalent of showing any kind of emotion, Harry assumed that it was trying to laugh.

:What's so funny?:

:Do you really think Ssssslytherin wouldn't give hissss heirsss ssssome kind of protection againsst my gaze?:

:Well I assumed he would but with wizards you never know: Harry lifted his eyes to the basilisk who was staring at him in turn with yellow, gleaming eyes.

:Sssso. Let us begin:

:One thing first, do you have to do that?:

:Do what?:

:That whole ssssssssssssss thing, drawing out that letter, is that like a snake version of a lisp or what?:

There was an uncomfortable pause before the basilisk responded.

:Slytherin thought it would make me seem more intimidating:

:I don't think its working out:

:Fine. If you're done, we can start:

:Start what exactly?:

:Salazar Slytherin had a wealth of knowledge, when he joined together with Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw, he became even more powerful. It was largely those four who made Hogwarts what it is today:

:There are powerful people around today too:

:Yes there are, but the way they become powerful is most often by going on a journey to find some secret source of knowledge. Salazar gave his descendants a shortcut, I am that source of knowledge:

Harry looked at the basilisk who drew up proudly. He considered the idea that he was Slytherin's heir, if he wasn't he should be dead from the basilisk's gaze and that was good enough evidence for him.

:How is the heir determined? Surely there are many more descendants alive, cousins or other relatives maybe:

:Salazar's secrets speak only to the worthy:

:Worthy how?:

:If you can find me, you are worthy:

:What is this place?:

:This is the Chamber of Secrets.:

:Of course it is... who are you exactly?:

:That is a vague question, I am one of the few basilisks in existence. My body was created by Salazar's magic, and my personality is determined by those I interact with:

:So since you spend most of your time in a school...:

:Salazar spent the most time with me, but my outlook on life slowly changes to reflect the youth:

:Does the name Heimdallr mean anything to you?:

:I do not know of anybody with that name:

:What can I call you?:

:You can call me Salazar:

:Won't that get confusing?:

:Sal for short:

Harry wasn't sure what he was feeling exactly, apprehension? Fear? Excitement? He was definitely glad that he hadn't told anybody else about this place, he would have hated to be the reason somebody had died.

:Ok Sal, I'm only in first year but if you can speed up my learning process I would greatly appreciate it:

Harry swore the snake was smiling at him.

:Let us begin:

Harry was walking back down the back towards the pipe that had taken him to the chamber. He was famished but he had a smile plastered onto his face, who knew the basilisk could be such a good teacher. It had explained several magical concepts that would allow him to grasp spells quicker and gave him a quick run down of spells that aren't (to Sal's knowledge) taught to the younger students. It pointed out exactly which of the spells could easily be performed by an unpracticed wizard and began to teach some of them to Harry.

They began with vanishing and conjuration, evanesce was a low level vanishing spell that Harry had only learned to understand the basics of vanishing. He had quickly caught on was able to vanish several of the smaller objects around the chamber.

Then he had moved onto the more advanced form of vanishing, evanesco. This spell appeared to function identically to the easier form, however when something was vanished with evanesco the configuration of matter that composed it was stored somewhere in one's magic (Harry had asked about that but didn't understand the response so he'd decided to go back and research it when he knew a little more about magical theory), where it could be called upon again with the little known partner spell, exorior.

Essentially what this meant was that if Harry had banished something in the past, it was his to call upon in the future exactly as it was when he had banished it (although it wouldn't replicate any magical properties of an item). Harry had asked how this didn't break the wizarding economy if everyone could simply conjure their own food and clothes and literally everything, to which Sal had responded that Harry was probably the only one in the country who knew of the partner spell and was advised to keep it to himself.

Sal also made it very clear that in order to maximize Harry's learning they would wait for him to master evanesco before going into anything more complicated. However, and harry grinned as he recalled the memory of what Sal had said, Slytherins heir shouldn't be unprotected. Sal had opened a side room with a multitude of magical objects, and he was given two rings of power. One shone scarlet and was imbued with a stunning spell, stupefy. The other was a clear gold and was imbued with a shield charm, protego. Harry had used them both once as practice and the rings were shining a little less bright now than they had been before, but they would recharge themselves with time. He was giddy at the fact that he had such powerful magic at his literal fingertips and nearly started to skip.

He finished examining the rings and twisted them around, making them go invisible (although he could still sense them). He came up to the pipe and hopped onto his broom. It took him less than a minute the get to the top where he said :Open: and popped out in the bathroom. :Close:, he said as his stomach growled. He walked down the hallway with the broom over his shoulder, still grinning like a madman. He'd have to get the broom back to the shed but after that he'd be free to go eat breakfast.

Harry didn't notice the fact that the sun was shining brightly outside, but he did notice Professor McGonagall turning into his hallway. The relief on her face when she saw him was palpable, but it quickly morphed to anger.

She made a complicated motion with her wand and a silver cat came out to float next to her.

"Tell Albus that I've found Mr. Potter," the cat vanished and she turned to Harry, "Mr. Potter. Follow me."

Harry stared at her pursed lips and debated if he should say anything at all.

"I-"

"I don't want to hear any excuses, Mr. Potter."

"Just, what time is it?"

"It's quarter after one, you've been missing for over five hours," her eyes flicked to the broom over Harry's shoulder, "and I think I know why."

Shit.

Harry sat at the library desk with his head buried in a book about advanced transfiguration methods. He felt like he had mastered the evanesco/exorior pair of charms, he was able to vanish anything completely every time (unlike the attempts in his first few weeks where there was a chance that only half of the object would disappear, or that he would leave it hollow or something), and the conjuration was even easier. Every day Harry's stock of things he could conjure grew larger, needless to say he didn't have to go to the Great Hall for his meals anymore (or the kitchens which he had done for a while when Sal had told him how to reach them, he'd vanished quite of few of the treats the house elves could prepare). However according to Sal, and much to Harry's displeasure, now that he was proficient with the spell he had to learn to do it silently. That was a week ago and he hadn't had an ounce of success since then, he doubted he would by the time summer rolled around but that wasn't much of a problem since Sal had shown him a basic set of wards he had placed on his wand to conceal his magical signature and avoid the trace. He'd be practicing those skills all summer, but he wouldn't have the library so he was researching another area of magic that was interesting him, sustained transfigurations.

The way he saw it, in a few years he should be able to conjure a large number of things. Since he had learned the disappearing charm he had not exactly been practicing privately and everybody's amazement that he had learned such a supposedly advanced spell quickly turned to annoyance when he wouldn't stop disappearing objects. Still, he had to practice somehow. However he wouldn't be able to conjure everything, and in those cases it would be useful to be able to sustain a transfiguration of whatever object he needed, or several for that matter. Hopefully it would be something else he'd be able to practice while he was away from Hogwarts for the summer. Although now that he thought of it he wasn't sure exactly where he would be going, he didn't think that Dumbledore would make him go back to the Dursley's but, well, he could never figure out what Dumbledore was thinking.

He had spoken to Dumbledore only a few time this year so it wasn't surprising that Harry couldn't read him all that well. His most recent visit to the Headmaster's office was after he had learned of Harry's knowledge of the fifth year spell and asked whether Harry had any outside tutoring which Harry firmly denied. He made sure to be noticed at the library more often after that, he wasn't sure if Dumbledore bought his lie but again, it was Dumbledore. Besides, it wasn't like he could get into Harry's mind and check.

His thoughts were interrupted by someone's cough coming from across his table. He smiled when he saw who it was.

"Hermione, how can I help you?"

"I need your help." she said, her voice was brimming with annoyance but her eyes looked defeated.

"You need my help?" Harry asked with mock incredulity. "So when you said that I was no-good troublemaker who got lucky with one spell and whose natural talent would only take him so far you meant...?"

"I may have made an... error of judgement back then."

"You're making it seem like it didn't happen a week or two ago."

"It happened significantly longer than a week or two ago, and obviously you've started taking yourself seriously since then seeing as I found you in the library, and exams are coming up..."

"And you wanted to use me to do well on your exams," Harry nodded sagely.

"No! Of course not! It's just, I mean we're getting some of the higher marks in the class. I'm willing to look past my initial judgement of you if you're willing for us to work together."

Harry made a big deal of sighing and contemplating her offer, enjoying the irritation that was creeping into her face, "I'm sure we can work something out," he said finally and her face brightened.

"Great! Where do you want to start umm... Harry?"

"Well actually," he said moving his book to the side, "I've been having some trouble with my sustained transfigurations, they seem to be using more magical energy than necessary. I've been trying to figure out what I've been doing wrong. It would help if you could take a look at let me know if you notice anything."

"Harry, sustained transfiguration is advanced material, I'm not sure-" Hermione started.

"Oh don't give me any of that, don't think I don't know you've been going to McGonagall for extra credit in transfiguration, and we both know sustained transfiguration is the easiest thing to start with when getting into the more advanced stuff. Hell, the only reason first years can't do most of the advanced stuff is because they can't wrap their minds around the way transfiguration needs you to think, it's more about imagination than any kind of magical skill."

Hermione grinned at his explanation, "so then why don't you ask Professor McGonagall for help too?"

"I just didn't think of it," he replied, it was a half-lie. He had considered it but was worried about the information getting to Dumbledore and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Besides, when he was reading he could make a list of other interesting things to learn that were mentioned in the books.

"You know," Hermione said rolling her eyes, "if you were really smart you wouldn't be afraid to go to a teacher for help.

"Are you going to help me or what?" Harry asked narrowing his eyes, and Hermione laughed before launching into an explanation.