AN: Ok… I wish to present this before writing this chapter, mainly because I feel it should be said. Metamorphmagi are special. The same power needed to perform wandless or mental magic can be found in accidental magic. If Harry growing his hair had been a form of accidental magic, that means that Dumbledore (being able to do wandless magic) should be able to be considered as a metamorphmagi. The books though make Tonks a very special case, something unique. Therefore Harry growing his hair could not have been due to accidental magic. Many writers give Harry the metamorphmagi power because they think it would be cool for him to be able to change at will.

Out of all the powers I'm giving him, this is the one I truly believe he should be able to develop in the canon storyline. With that being said, I know JKR shut down that idea, therefore beware when going to a club. If a hot chick wants to get it on with you and a goat… it might just be Aberforth.


Chapter 3
Pink Boxers


Vivid sex dreams.

Now he understood everything much better, but he still wondered why couldn't he have had at least one vivid sex dream. Frustrated, he reached for his trusted diary and p.o.q. (pink ostrich quill) and began writing.

Dear Diary,

I found out something last night while dreaming that still seems a bit hard to believe. Apparently all those weird dreams I've been having have not really been dreams. Granted, I suspected it so after the last one for I kept looking for any sign that an amulet had been absorbed by my skin, but now I have solid… if you could call it that… evidence.

Last night's dream started pretty normal. So there I was in the middle of India lying on top of a bed made of nails with a fakir. You know, usual dream stuff. I later learned he was named Joe… weird name for a fakir, but I digress. Everything normal so far. I feel no pain from the nails, apparently because I was correctly concentrating on the fact that pain was just a way the body spoke to you, telling you when something is wrong. If you know something is wrong you can make your brain send back that the message was received and the pain just numbs out until it disappears.

Oooh, oooh, one more thing about being able to control your mind like that is that… you can also tell your mind not to be accessed by outsiders. It's not a true form of legimency, for you are not actually clearing your mind. More like actively protecting it without the need of magic. It's sort of like being introspective. Mind over matter sort of thing. The good aspect of it is that it will block the strongest of legimens acting as a physical wall in between the attacker and your mind. With a bit of practice, I think I should be able to have the 'wall' up without having to actively think about it.

Back to how I found out it wasn't a dream. While Joe was trying to teach me how to get more in touch with myself, my mind, my body, my feelings, etc, he mentioned it shouldn't be so hard for me seeing how I had already learned how to astral aparate. My goofy unknowing face sent him into giggles and he proceeded to explain that astral aparation was very similar to astral projection, the main difference being that you actually can interact with wherever you are, be it with magic or physically.

Guess what else I learned?

I am a frigging metamorphmagi. I'm not kidding. Apparently I've always been able to do it but never thought of trying to change any of my features because I couldn't get rid of my scar. The scar, being magical, cannot be hidden with the metamorphosis but I learned that I could shift it. So bye bye scar, you shall for ever be hidden in my scalp under thick locks of black… orange, green, or even pink hair! I'm going to have so much fun with this.

Till I write again.

Closing his diary, he grabbed his trusted vanity mirror began making faces. First he tried to squint his eyes so that they would have an Asian look to them. Frustrated, he threw the mirror breaking it. Dejavu?

'Ugh, Southern Chinese with a touch of Mongolian… and I wanted them to look as if I were from Honk Kong' Harry thought to himself frustrated. 'I might as well give up now.'

Going downstairs, Harry felt as his scar shifted from his forehead to underneath his thick black locks. Smiling the teen proceeded to make himself the usual breakfast. He was a bit behind today, so he would have to run to make it to practice on time. Worrying about not being able to get there, he was clearly focused on being next to Lizzie. Before he knew it, he felt as if he were being squished through a straw, effectively aparating right next to the hot chick.

Because apparating without a license is perfectly legal, especially for a person who doesn't quite know how, doesn't like doing so, and has a record with the ministry for doing magic for when he shouldn't.

Having been in mid run, he was unable to stop himself before tumbling over the girl. Their lips inches away from each other, their bodies pressed hard, even the notion that Ginny even existed evaporated his mind. Slowly, a smile crept onto his face, which was reflected on hers.

"Sorry for being late" Harry managed to get out, with a husky tone of voice.

The poor girl was melting under his eyes. Something was different about him today. If yesterday she had the hots for him, there would be nothing he would ask of her today that she wouldn't do. Being a cheerleader as well as a gymnast… that gave Harry a lot of options. If only she could voice her desire. She just continued to stare at him goofily smiling.

On the other side of this teenage sandwich, Harry didn't really feel like getting up either. His mind actually wondered if he could get even closer to her. That's when he heard a little cough, too reminiscent of a couple of years back, which snapped him back from Lalaland.

"We know you two would like nothing better than to get it on right here right now, but we have to practice" Cally, Liz's second in command, said. "If you are not too tired after practice, please be our guests. We might even stay and watch if that's what rocks your boat. Good thing Tammy brought all those bags of popcorn."

Blushing furiously, the two teens separated, without really taking their eyes from each other. As soon as the physical contact was gone though, Ginny re-entered Harry's thought process. Yet another weird fact for him to add to the list…

Practice was fun. Apparently, Lizzie really wanted to show Harry how much she wanted him, shifting her weight each time he lifted her onto a lift so that his hands would… slip to more comfortable spots. Furiously blushing each time, they finished their training in no time. Time flies when you are having fun.

Lizzie stayed back slightly and once she and Harry were the only two left she ran to him, jumped, and wrapped both arms and legs around him effectively making him loose balance toppling over. She kissed him quite passionately before getting up and skipping to the locker rooms.

Girls are seriously mental.

"Lizzie," Harry called "I need to talk to you."

The girl stopped in her tracks, she didn't like that tone of voice.

"I would like nothing better than to have my way with you right now… popcorn or not. But I don't know how to feel. I still am very much hung up with this girl, and have known her for a very long time."

He sighed.

"Life has never been fair to me, and it wouldn't be fair to you if you were to think we might have some kind of a future. I just…"

She put her index finger on his lips.

"Harry, I'm a tease. I don't want a 'future' or a relationship, I'm not that kind of girl" she said with a little glint in her eyes. "With that out of the way, how would your girl feel if I were to …" She whispered a VERY long sentence in his ear that made his ear burn and him blush terribly.

"Well, Ginny and I, we aren't exactly together at the moment. I was planning on changing that soon, but maybe I'll rethink juts how soon." He wiggled his brows with the last statement.

The rest of the afternoon was spent doing exactly what she had whispered, which involved a Twister board, a hand of bananas, whipped cream, scented candles, and a couple of disposable cameras. 'Take that prophecy, one got to live while the other survived.' Harry thought with a smile as he fell asleep in the comfort of his own bed that night.


Today was his first day off cheerleading. He liked spending time with the girls, lifting Lizzie up in the air, and spending time with the girls, but he had a dark wizard to vanish from the face of the earth. He had to train himself in the ancient arts which were beginning to become unlocked one by one in his mind. Yes, he had all the knowledge in the world, but he had no practical way of knowing when he did something right or something wrong…

'Kinda stupid to face one of the most evil and powerful dark lords of all time doing the spells for the first time and thinking you are going to win' Though Harry, glaring at the author. 'Hm, what should I start with? Oclumency is fine and all but I don't really need it, do I? the biggest fear Dumbledore had was that Voldermort would posses me, which he can't. Legimency would be fun, but I'll have to learn that after Oclumency.'

After some seriously deep thought, he decided that he would learn Origami. He still was under aged and couldn't do any magic that required his wand. The ancient art of paper folding used to actually be a form of magic, to this day still used in Atlantis. Not really practical, but at least it would help pass the time.

Several hours and countless pages of parchment later Harry found himself looking at his enchanted creations. Their appearance was obvious to that of being made out of paper, but at the same time they were extremely resistant to magic. On his bed rested a paper lion, with rather sharp teeth and claws, just resting there, awaiting for a command. On his bed side a bouquet of roses, more precisely death roses. The correct folds caused each razor sharp petal to be filled with a deadly toxin which basically caused a long and drawn out death. No antidote was known back in the day, and certain assassins would use the petals as throwing darts, picking them carefully one by one to the chant "He loves me… He loves me not…"

Among other things Harry now had an arsenal of weapons, shields, and armor. Granted, he would not be wearing the repellent of all curses, including the unforgivables, because he looked like a dork with that paper hat on. They might take his life, but they wouldn't take his pride.

As the day wore on, Harry became more and more determined to find out why exactly he missed Ginny so much. It wasn't like him. He had never been hung up with a girl like that. Yes, he had had the hots for Cho, but the thought of her didn't appear in his mind every waking moment. Something fishy was going on. The thought of Lizzie came to his mind, without really displacing the thought of the cute little red head. He wondered if they'd get along. (If any of the readers have been teenage boys at any point in your life, you know where those thoughts led, and to be truthful, just thinking about what Harry was thinking about makes me blush.)

His resolve to rid the world of Riddle drove happier thoughts away. How was he supposed to find the horocruxes? And once he found them, how was he supposed to destroy them? He had all the information in the universe about the most ancients of magic, but it was as useful as a library. He had to know what he was looking for in order to be able to research it.

The only information he had on horocruxes was on how to make them. Dumbledore had been wrong with his assessment, for they did not really split your soul. It was much much deeper than that. A horocrux was a complex binding spell, binding your soul to a plane of existence through an object or living thing. It did not mutilate your soul, it had to be kept whole for the spell to work. If your soul ever divided, then only a portion of you would die, and a portion would remain in this plane. Most poor souls that had that occur to them were driven to insanity within hours of it happening. They would get visions of the future and the past. It all depended on how much of your soul was divided, the smaller the piece, the less often the visions or sight.

Harry chuckled at the fact Hermione had been right and his years of studying Divination had been a waste of time.

Thinking about horocruxes, Harry just sighed noting that all the information about them showed that a horocrux could be easily destroyed. As soon as the object the horocrux was latched on to was destroyed, the connection would be severed and it would no longer be a horocrux. This meant that he'd have to find a new way of destroying each and every one of them.

Good thing he wouldn't need to find another basilisk fang though.


Before he knew it Tuesday, July the 29th rolled around, two days before his birthday. Two days until he would finally be free. Two days until he could be an adult. Two days until he could leave that god forsaken place. Two days until he wouldn't be able to 'date' Ginny for a full year without it being considered rape.

'You win some, you loose some' Harry thought. Dreams had been sparse, but he had had one more the night before, fairly short one about how to make magical paintings. The modern way wasn't that different from the ancient way, only with a couple of big changes. The first one was that people had to enchant the painting with their wands in order for it to work in the modern way while the ancients did the enchanting with each stroke of the brush on the canvas. The second big difference was a derivation of the first. Since they had to enchant the canvas with the memories and way of being, each painting had a specific signature, for this reason the reason they could only do long trips between paintings of the same person or signature. The old way was a tad more intricate, but it let the portrayed be able to travel to any painting they desired as long as they knew exactly where the painting was, sort of like aparting but for a portrait.

Harry spent about ten minutes wanting to see if he could do a painting the way he had dreamt about. Grabbing some of Dudley's old art supplies, that he had saved from the trash can once his cousin had gotten bored with painting, Harry drew on a piece of parchment a stick figure using very intricate strokes. Once he was done drawing, he held his breath for a second before testing his masterpiece.

"Hello, do you work?" Harry said to his drawing. It didn't move. To be precise… absolutely nothing happened. Then, he saw its arm move slightly, twitching more than anything.

'Of course! It can't hear me if it doesn't have ears, and it can't speak without a mouth, and so forth.'

Applying himself a little bit more, he managed to draw a couple of bead-eyed pupils, a couple of lips, and ears worthy of an elephant or the current prince, Charles or something.

"Ok, now, do you work?" Harry wondered.

"Of course I work. Though I doubt I'll be able to move or see much seeing how the light is turned on so bright. You have no idea about anatomy, do you? I cannot move without muscles, and being bead-eyed all the time is going to make me blind before you know it. At least I have huge ears that will allow me to hear a frigging fly take a poop 10 miles away. Thank you so much for creating me" said a very sarcastic squeaky voice.

"Well, at least I got the sarcastic and whiny strokes right, I'm so sorry but in order to give you what you want I actually have to start over so… bye bye!"

Pouring ink and drawing an x on top of the stick figure, the parchment suddenly became hot and burst into flames, quickly burning down and not leaving a trace of ash behind.

Spending the next few hours with the brush at hand striking the parchment with a bit more ease, Harry used up all the knowledge he had from the ancients about anatomy and how the body worked. He omitted a couple of things, of course, like the necessity to breath, eat, or drink. He also added known traits only found in metamorphmagus, hopping his painting would be able to resemble anyone he/she wanted.

"Ok, now let's see how this works. I take it that you work, but let's see how well" Harry voiced.

"I work rather well, if I may say so myself. I am but perfect, beautiful, and graceful, all rolled into one. Do stay there and stare at me, I rather enjoy the attention."

Harry frowned. Obviously some of his strokes had gone horribly wrong but he was to lazy to try again. The morning had become noon and it was now the beginning of the afternoon. He would not spend the day drawing. No matter how entertaining some people might think it, Harry just found it boring.

"Ok, please first of all tone down your ego, I know it will be hard, but… you sound too much like an old professor of mine. I want to know if you can change your appearance at will."

"Of course I can, did you want me to look more like you when you drew me? I can see the resemblance. We are a couple of handsome young men aren't we?" said the drawing with a slight dreamy air to his rhetorical questions. "Is this better? I tried getting the messy mop hair down, but it was a bit hard, maybe with more practice."

"That's fine. You do need a name though. I cannot just keep calling you… you, now can I?" said Harry.

"I like Apollo" commented the very modest painting.

"Then Apollo it is, though I hope you don't mind I call you 'El Pollo Loco'. As another test, can you go to another painting as long as I tell you where it is? And if you can, can you go to any painting within the building where I tell you to go?"

"I most probably will be able to, being as amazing as I am, you kind of have to tell me where to go before I can try."

"Ok, I want you to go to Hogwarts, Gryffindor Tower, the Fat Lady's portrait. Try to see if you can get into the old head master's portraits and try not to get noticed."

Ten minutes later, a smiling Harry re appeared on the sheet of parchment. The grin spread from ear to ear, hopefully meaning what Harry thought it did.

"I was able to go everywhere within that castle, and to be precise, I was able to find out all the passwords to every single door within the castle because of it. Apparently the passwords are magically engraved within the insides of the frames so that the passwords can be changed without having to utter it in front of others. Did you know that gargoyles, statues and suits of armor could also be visited by portrait paintings? Rather useful if you ask me. Aren't I the greatest?"

Mouth agape, Harry could only nod in agreement. This little drawing was proving to be more and more useful by the second. Too bad it was so conceited and self absorbed.

"Do you mind being just out off the piece of parchment until I call on you? I want you to be within hearing distance, but so that people cannot see you if the piece of parchment is to fall into the wrong hands. A password should also be needed, any suggestions?"

"How about 'Apollo is the most beautiful and wonderful painting in the world'?"

Rolling his eyes, Harry told the egomaniac "How about not? I was thinking along the lines of 'El Pollo Loco'."

"Good enough for me. Do you want me to go or do I have to stay? I have rather comfortable quarters within hearing distance."

"You can go, but leave a mark or something somewhere in the parchment so that I don't mistakenly use it for writing love letters or something."

Apollo left, leaving a red lighting bolt on the top right corner.


That night, Harry was using his new inner sight to get in touch with himself when he noticed a light pink aura around the walls of his room and a haze of mixing red, pink and blue around his bedroom window. Drawing up on his knowledge he recognized he was seeing the physical wards that were protecting his house and his window. The red was the most obvious, an unbreakable ward protecting from both magical and muggle forms of breaking into windows. The blue aura looked like an obscuring charm dependant on the pink aura. He couldn't recall from his thoughts what the light fading pink would signify, but recalling the fact Dumbledore said the blood connection with his mother was protecting him as long as he called this house his home it was easy to fair a guess pink that was the color of that ward.

Focusing hard on the pink, he noticed it not only encompassed his room but the whole house, though it seemed to be fading a bit. Without knowing what he was doing, he wished the wards were a bit stronger, focusing a bit more than he should have. The dwindling wards suddenly began to shrink, becoming denser but at the same time not being everywhere around the Dursley's property.

Panic set in Harry's mind… he didn't know what he had done, but he did know that the wards were rapidly shrinking. Stopping the wards from disappearing all together by sheer willpower, the remaining wards hovered in the middle of his room appearing to be about the size of a quaffle. They looked solid now, bright neon pink, rival to Tonk's usual hair color.

Harry moved towards the floating ball and without thinking reached to grab it. It felt solid too. The teen sighed…

'Now what?' he thought to himself.

He grabbed the pink ball and moved to his bed. Handling the ball, he could feel it was made out of pure unadulterated love. Mishandling it, the ball slipped from his fingers and fell on the ground, where a pair of boxers he had used the night before laid. There was a bright light and the boxers turned the same bright shade of pink the ball had been. Harry lifted the boxers and recognized that it was the pair he had worn before the dream about the three cheerleaders. The white stains from before were now slightly glowing pink and it dawned on Harry what had happened.

The young man quickly proceeded to strip off the pants and boxers he was wearing at the moment leaving him completely naked on the bottom half of his body. A slight draft of wind from the window tickled his privates. The young man bent over and pulled on the stained boxers. He wondered why the writer had written this in such detail and then remembered that it being a fan fiction, the readers needed something that from time to time was called fan-service.

'Pervs' Harry thought to himself.

It wasn't blood what had protected him. Well, technically it was, but not from a scientific point of view. He just had to live where someone with similar or equal genetic material resided. He had heard about genetics on the tely while having to fan his aunt with a giant feather. The shrunken wards had fused with his underwear because of genetics, they met with the requirements. Now as long as he used those boxers and called them home, he would be protected by the blood wards. And if calculations were right, they had just been reestablished, so they would last at least 17 more years.


Note:I dedicate this chapter to me grandma, who passed away during the last week. She always loved to laugh and was quite the artist. May she rest in peace.


AN: By now most of you must understand what kind of story this is. Don't take it seriously and don't expect anything. I do have a couple of things I wish to point out at the moment.

First of all, the fact I believe Snape is gay. Not AU and not Canon, I just believe that he is a character secretly written to point out that fact. His robes willow at his wake and he walks like a model. In the second year he literally came out of the closet and dressed in drag. He stalked the prettiest boys in his school and became bitter when they didn't return the affection. I could keep going with this, but I'll let you be the judge. Instead of reviewing my story, just write a reason why you think Snape is gay. The one who comes up with the most screwed up way that I hadn't thought of will have a character written after them.

The second thing I'd like to point out is thanks for the reviews. If you think that I go off on a tangent too often, then you are right. I was walking the other day and I saw the sky was blue. Weird, huh?

OMAKE

"That looks like it hurts."

"That's Lizzie we are talking about, you know she's double jointed."

The two girls' eyes went wide and blushed terribly.

"Wow… just Wow"

"Amen to that. He's got a lot of stamina doesn't he?"

"It doesn't hurt that he looks to be related to a horse or an elephant."

They both licked their lips simultaneously.

"I wonder if he does groups…"

"I hope he does…"

"Ok, you two, shut up and stop hogging the popcorn."