A/N: Thank you all for reading, and a special thank you to those who faved, followed, or reviewed!

I forgot to do this last time so I'll do it now: I do not own Harry Potter or Rise of the Guardians and I make no money from writing about them. I just love the characters so much I just have to write about them. ^.^

I'm truly sorry for the horribly slow update speed, but this term is unreasonably chaotic. It seems that I have no free time at all because of all the coursework and the Uni applications. Gah...
I hope to be able to improve my update speed soon, as the storm is passing.

So when we left Harry he had just discovered he was dead and the new spirit of chaos.

Here we go again

oooooooooooo

For the rest of that evening, or rather night, Harry practiced floating. Now that he was relatively calm and was beginning to get used to being dead, he found that it was actually really fun to fly around without a broom. There was a certain freedom to it.

As he rose and fell in the air, Harry found himself relaxing and soon he was simply enjoying himself, ignoring the implications of the Boy-who-Lived dying. When he landed again he was in the tiny copse of woodland that was a few streets south of his house, near a small, iced over pond.

Once his bare feet touched the snow, he found himself wondering about the greater implications of being a spirit. It would seem that he could feel some things, but not others as the snow beneath his feet was cold, but not unpleasantly so as it should have been, were he alive. It was soft and calming, father than abrasively chilly.

The spirit of chaos…

That's what the Man in the Moon had said he was. He didn't think he felt any more chaotic than he had before he had died. There was the idle thrum of his magic coming from within him, and it felt rather odd to have no heartbeat or breath, but aside from that he felt much the same. Despite this fact, Harry found himself focusing on his magic and raising his hand towards the frozen pond.

Now, he felt something. His magic moved within his chest, unlike it ever had before, and his body tingled softly, like gentle pins and needles all over. And then he was in for another enormous shock. The ice on the water began to split apart silently. Pieces rose into the air, like ashes rising from a flame, and danced in the moonlight above the pond. In the crystalline, perfect stillness and silence, the solid matter was divided and released from its orderly constraint, filling the air with a glistening dust far finer than any snow.

As Harry watched in awe of what was happening, what he was doing, the dust began to move. At first in a delicate dance that seemed far too complex for words, and then into a small storm before him.

Chaos…

It was beautiful chaos as more of the ice and snow joined the swirling mass. Droplets of liquid water rose and frozen grass split off and joined in, twirling and spinning with no visible pattern. Just as the cloud of particles seemed to be reaching a point beyond control, they burst apart. Spreading into the open air, back into the pond and onto the surrounding trees and stopping their movement as they faded away into nonexistence.

Harry dropped his hand and felt his magic, his chaos, relax back into a calm mass around his heart. He could feel it now. The difference. He felt… free…

oooooooooo

After exploring the chaos for a little longer, Harry had discovered some truly interesting things. While he couldn't control the particles movement – Yet, he told himself determinedly – he could control the shapes and sizes of the pieces of ice. They could be big or small, smooth or sharp, and he had even been able to make some bits explode like tiny silver fireworks.

As the sun rose, it shone through the swirling balls of ice, lifting up the little clearing in magnificent display. 'Better than magic' Harry thought with a smile. And then another thought struck him. One that was thoroughly unwanted and put an immediate damper on his previous good mood.

'What should I do about the Dursleys? And what will everyone say when they notice I'm dead'

His mind racing a mile a minute, Harry took off from is clearing and headed back in the direction he had come in the first place. Reaching the park, he was surprised to see that there was no stain from his blood, despite his rather gruesome death 'if I do say so myself'. At this he stopped and landed again. He had just sounded surprisingly like some of the ghosts he had heard at school, comparing the way they died. He was dead too now, so was he like a ghost? No he couldn't be, he was colourful and still had his magic and his chaos. So in the wizarding world, there must not be any spirits like him, right? Surely he would have heard of them from Hermione if there were.

Upon this realisation, a plan formed in his mind. A very clever plan in his opinion. All he had to do was nothing. Nothing at all.

He would go about his life as if nothing had happened. He would find a book that would tell him how to make glamours so it would look like he was aging and would read them while everyone else slept. It was perfect. No one would ever know he had died.

Of course there would need to be changes to the plan at a later date and he would need to go to Diagon Alley at some point to buy the books and anything else helpful, but surly he would be able to find a way to do that.

'What should I do now?' he asked himself as he gazed across the snow to where he could see his Aunt and Uncle's house. This was a difficult decision. He could go back to his Aunt and Uncle as if nothing had happened or he could simply leave. If he went back, he would have to spend time with some of the most despicable people he had ever met, but it would prevent there from being any problems in his story and he was sure Dumbledore would know if he left. Somehow. On the other hand if he left, he would be free to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. He didn't think he would need to eat or sleep and he was fairly sure the Man in the Moon had said he wouldn't die again, so both options were quite plausible.

In the end, Harry decided to err on the side of caution and began the walk back towards number 4.

oooooooooooo

When he reached the door, Harry became aware that his family were likely still asleep, and he had no idea how to get back into the house. Despite his best efforts he could not come up with a reasonable way around the problem. Of course, he could use his awesome new spirit powers, but that would probably be a little overkill and was bound to be a dead giveaway. So instead, he sat himself down on the doorstep and concentrated on trying to remove the blood from his cloths by dispersing it like he did the ice. After many failed attempts, resulting in more holes in his already tattered t-shirt, the little spirit was able to successfully remove the blood from the fabric.

This was what he was doing when he was interrupted by an angry looking petunia opening the door behind him.

"In" she hissed, her face contorted in disgust, "before the neighbors see you and think we're freaks too"

Harry had to repress his urge to try out his powers on her hair as he stepped around her and into the hall. Despite the fact that he had been a horrifying sight when he left, and now looked almost normal again in the space of a night, petunia did not seem to want to notice, and merely ushered him into the kitchen where he was guided to the hob.

"Make the bacon and don't you dare burn it, or your straight back outside." She declared primly, turning away to go and find one of her abhorrent gossip magazines. 'Maybe I could turn them to dust at some point. That could cause some chaos… or at least disorder.'

"Yes, Aunt Petunia" he replied, setting about the task.

And so the day went by. As if nothing at all had changed. Of course his Uncle had expressed his displeasure at the fact that Harry was well again, but he didn't do much but yell in the end, clearly having calmed down at least a little.

By the evening, Harry had several plots to cause chaos in the Dursleys home, but he refrained from carrying them out, coming to the conclusion that he could do that when he left for Hogwarts. He wouldn't get to see the results, but he wouldn't be punished either. Instead, Harry planned to sneak out and go to Diagon Alley that night. Despite how things worked in the Muggle world, the wizarding world had a strange way of making sure shops were open at night as well, or so he had heard, and now he intended to test this theory, hopefully gaining something useful in the process.