The barrier was tricky. Having to disembark his broom roughly a mile before hand and walk through it for another mile afterwords, it left him open to ambush. Luck was on his side however, and he quickly rose back into the night sky on his broom. The cold wind of the world whipped away at his cloak and face, numbing him. After several hours, he didn't feel the sharp tug anymore. Harry only had one destination in mind, and it was illustrated by the Giant Full Moon, like a pointer in a mall entitled "You are here"

With his broom high above the ocean, Harry flew across it faster then any plane, falcon, or hawk. He was the wind. As he flew, he continued to think about what was done to him. He listed these things off. 1) Abused by his "Guardians". 2) Requests for help ignored countless times, minus his second year at Hogwarts. 3) Constantly being kept in the dark about his OWN life. 4) Repeated attempts at his life, and 5) Constant Verbal Abuse by his "Peers". With each thought, a stream of Tears, hot and salty, fell from his eyes, pouring into the ocean, his Laments being forgotton.

Time for something new. He needed to do several things, before his main plan could be set in motion. It was true, Harry Potter had a plan. A way to turn his life around, to make everything better. Step One - A new Identity. This included a new look, name, history, and living quarters. Step Two - The Right Tools. Without them, this plan would be down the loo in several seconds. Step Three - The proper Training. This is what would be the hardest thing to find. He would look long and hard though, scouring the land for the proper Master to take him as an Apprentice. And he would find him. After that, all it left was Step Four - Execute the plan

Finally, he saw it. Wiping the tears from his blurry eyes, He found what he was looking for. A Road. It was nondescrepit, an inconspicous slash of black with yellow thread in the centre, cut into the forest floor. Landing on the edge, Harry used his magic to shrink his broom and put it in his pocket. Next, he disguised himself so thoroughly even his own mother.. well, Aunt would not recognize him. Holding himself steady, Harry took a deep breath and did the only thing he could do.

He held his wand out with his right arm. Several moments later, a large bang could be heard and the large, triple decker knight bus came into view. Swerving on the road, it pulled up next to Harry. Sighing, he quickly came up with a new name for himself.

"An' jus' who are you?" Stan Turnpike asked, holding out a hand to help Harry onboard.

Grabbing the shabby man's hand and hauling himself onto the purple death trap, Harry responded with his new alias. "Lector Cage." Spinning himself into the first bed behind Ernie, he handed Stan a bag of Galleons. He murmered his destination, and with a nod from Stan, he pocketed the Galleons.

"You heard the kid! Go, Go, Go!" He shouted, as Ernie shut the door, put it in gear, and slammed the accel. They were off, tearing through the night.

Sighing, Harry tried to get some sleep. He was exhausted. It turned out to be not as difficult as he imagined. Within moments, and despite the constant bang's, shakes, and erratic movements, Harry was unconscious, in dreamland.

"Gone? What do you mean Gone?" Hermione shook Ron profusely, his red hair flopping.

"Yeah Ron, where did he go?" Ginny shrieked, taking her brother from the Granger and shaking him harder.

"Ronald... Why didn't you try and stop him?" This went on for several minutes, almost for half an hour, until Minerva McGonagall stepped in and shoo'd the others away. She quickly brought him up to Dumbledore- Her office.

"Well you see professor, there was a lot of yelling and smashing things, and then Harry just summoned his Broom and flew off." Ron explained sheepishly, with several stuttering instances in the sentence.

"And you didn't try to stop him?" She asked, her lips becoming a thin line.

"I tried professor, Honest, but I think I was in shock.." He explained, looking down. He was just as Disappointed in himself as she was.

"Very well. Do you have any idea where he's headed?"

"No, professor." Came the quiet response, as His ear's turned beet red and hot. A tear slid down his face and hit the floor with a soft Plunk!

Turning to a portrait on the wall, she rapped on it hard with her fist. "Phineas! Check your other portrait in Grimmauld place." She ordered, as the grumbling ex-headmaster walked out of the painting. They waited patiently.

"No one's there, professor." He announced, returning. "Now if you will excuse me, I'm going back to sleep.

"Uhm.. Professor.. Can I go back to bed now, that's all I know, Honest." Ron asked, looking at her with hot, salty tears welling up in the sprig of his eyes.

"Oh, very well." She muttered, dismissing him from dumbl- her office.

"Wake up, Lector. We've arrived at your destinat'n." Stan shouted as he shook Harry from his sleep. Sitting up in the bed, he looked out the window. There it was in all it's glory.

Durmstrang academy.