Chapter Three: The Years that Pass

The rest of the summer passed painfully slowly for Harry. He had carried on completing his chores that his Uncle Vernon had assigned for him at the beginning of the summer, but he had been extremely bored otherwise, and full of anxiety for what was coming. Although initially he had convinced himself that attending IBS des Dourbies was going to be another adventure, the reality of moving to a different country was setting in. He wouldn't know anyone there and if he had a bout of accidental magic, there wouldn't be anyone he could turn to in order to rectify the situation. And on top of it all, the Dursley's were just as tense, as though his own emotions were seeping into their minds too; number four Privet Drive had become even more unbearable for the four occupants, a feat that Harry reckoned if you had told him was possible a mere few months ago, he would have laughed. The only thing that kept Harry grounded in his heightened anxiety and potentially explosive home were the letters that he and Ginny had been exchanging. Before he had sent the first one, he had explained to Hedwig in no uncertain terms, was she to leave or enter the house from anywhere else other than his bedroom window. At the time, Harry had felt slightly silly giving that kind of instruction to his pet, but to his surprise, it had seemed that she had understood. He had been worried that if she didn't, his Uncle would have done something drastic like put bars across his window or just kill Hedwig. But Hedwig had acquiesced, and the exchange of letters with his new friend was refreshing.

During the evenings, when he was not composing a letter to Ginny, he had meticulously followed a revision plan that his Aunt Petunia had created for him. He completed past exam papers and activities from workbooks each day, which slowly reintroduced him to muggle education. It was amazing how quickly he picked back up on the old subjects, it was almost as if he hadn't taken a year out at all. He had now completed all of the workbooks that his Aunt had bought him – Harry had been so surprised to learn that they were not another set of Dudley's cast offs – and was laying on his back in his room, the waning sunlight telling him that it was around nine in the evening. Harry sighed as he glared up at his patchy ceiling. The mould would need defeating sometime soon but he supposed that would just have to wait until next summer, if his aunt didn't get to it first.

Harry rolled over onto his side and tucked his arm under his head. He would be leaving for school tomorrow. His trunk lay under his desk, packed with his new uniform, books and writing utensils. His old Hogwarts things had been emptied out and placed in a box in the attic, his wand tucked between his invisibility cloak and his potions homework. Uncle Vernon who had supervised the packing had gleefully remarked that he wouldn't need that where he was going. And although Harry's things were being moved from one safe place to another, he had felt horribly naked and defenceless with his uncle looming over him and sneering horribly. That was probably when the anxiety truly set in too, when he realised that he was going to another country without his wand, without anything. Tears pricked at Harry's eyes as he spied the place that he used to keep Hedwig's cage, that too was in the loft. Hedwig herself was staying in Ginny's care until further notice and the loneliness that Harry felt in the empty, dark room encased his heart. He rolled over to face the wall and sniffled softly. It wasn't long before he began to snore, the noise of the television blaring loudly dimming into faint irritation. Sleep had been the only reprieve Harry could get from his own thoughts recently, and he didn't have dreams anymore, not since he had woken up in the hospital wing in Hogwarts after his confrontation with Professor Quirrell. After he had killed Professor Quirrell.

"Get up now! Or we'll be late for the ferry!" Aunt Petunia's high-pitched bark came from outside of his door. Harry groaned and slapped a hand to his forehead. He felt that it had only been five minutes since his head had touched the pillow, but it was time to get up and face the day. Even though the days had dragged, the thirty-first of August had come by much quicker than he had anticipated; they say that time flies when you're having fun but Harry guessed the same could be said for when you are avoiding the inevitable.

He stumbled out of bed, making his way straight to the bathroom. Uncle Vernon refused to take him anywhere, so Aunt Petunia was driving. It had been a long time since Aunt Petunia had driven anywhere. Both his guardians had decided it was more normal for the man of the house to do the driving, so Aunt Petunia had stopped. All this change, Harry thought whilst brushing his teeth, was oddly refreshing. Something he could look forward to, something different to his usually repetitive lifestyle. Well it had been repetitive before he had received his Hogwarts letter, only ever after then had life been exciting.

"Took you long enough. You've got everything?" Was Aunt Petunia's greeting as Harry came in, all fresh, ready to start the day and lugging his trunk behind him into the dining room. She eyed the trunk, her lip curled. "I don't know why you insisted on taking that. We do have normal suitcases you know. All you had to do was ask."

'Well who wants to be normal anyway? That's so boring.' Harry thought. He had come to this conclusion some days ago. The Dursleys fought every day to be this ideal family and in doing so, they sucked the fun out of everything. And who were they to judge what was normal from what wasn't? Harry had yet to meet anyone who was perfect and even as similar as Fred and George were, even they were very different from one another. He felt that everyone was unique and so everyone created their version of normal without obsessing over it. And because everyone had their own version of normal, normal as an obtainable way of living simply did not exist.

Harry had been quite proud when he had finally come to this conclusive note. It had been bothering him for some time and so when he had figured out his own opinion, he quietly celebrated his logic.

"Wherever I go, the trunk goes." Harry supplied succinctly in answer to her remark. Aunt Petunia turned in disgust, stalking toward the kitchen.

"Eat quickly, we leave in ten minutes."

Aunt Petunia was true to her word and in ten minutes Harry had manage to wolf down some toast with scramble eggs, get his coat on and pack his trunk into the car. As Harry adjusted the seatbelt comfortably around his body, Aunt Petunia peeled out of the driveway slowly. Her movements were jerky and nervous and Harry could tell it was going to be a long seventy miles to Dover.

Aunt Petunia had refused vehemently to put the radio on after Harry asked tentatively. The silence grew and so did the tension, the reality of the situation grew with every mile they drove. Harry wondered when exactly Professor Dumbledore would realise he was missing. He wondered if they would put out a search party for him, if anyone would actually care. Harry pressed his cheek against the cool window and watch the M20 zip pass. It was with these thoughts that Harry drifted into an uneasy nap. He twitched and murmured every so often in his slumber, making Aunt Petunia jump and mutter curses under her breath, "It really has been too bloody long since I last drove one of these blasted things." She gripped the steering wheel tightly at ten and two, her eyes never straying from the road and followed the signs to Dover relatively easily.

And so without much hassle, they arrived safely a couple of hours later, parked up by the passenger terminal. Dover was famed to be one of the busiest ports in Europe and they were not disappointed. There were people milling about everywhere and many a car, truck and coach were lined up to drive directly onto ferries. A kind man had stopped to help Harry retrieve his trunk from the boot of the car, huffing slightly at its weight, "There you go lad," he had said with an easy smile before he took off. Aunt Petunia had stared at him for a little while before shoving a ticket in his hand – it had only cost £36 – along with his passport. She grabbed him roughly and placed a kiss on his head and then walked briskly around the car and got back in elegantly. Harry watched as she drove off, feeling slightly shell-shocked, the car moved as nervously as his Aunt had been. This was the start of his adventure.

XxX

Harry swayed and bounced merrily along the lower floor of the ferry. It was his first time being on one, but found that he quite enjoyed it. He had spotted some rather sickly looking people, their faces green and hands rubbing mournfully at their stomachs, and smiled in thanks that he didn't have motion sickness. He found the rocking and swaying quite comforting and giggled childishly whenever he took a step and the ferry had moved downward due to the waves, he was kind of left in the air momentarily, before the ferry came back up to join him.

There were many shops aboard the ferry; the usual ones you could find anywhere. He passed a coffee shop and a bar, where quite a few adults sat drinking and talking in subdued voices, before he came to the end with the stairs to go up to the deck and there was also a place to exchange money.

Not wanting to risk getting thrown overboard, Harry turned around and noticed something he hadn't before. Or rather, someone he hadn't before. Sitting in the canteen area of the food court was a girl clad in the Dourbies school uniform. He had not seen many students wearing the uniform on the ferry and no-one looked to be his age, apart from this person. He ran a hand through his hair and mustered up the courage to go over to say hello.

She had long mahogany hair that framed her pretty face. Her plump rosy lips were pressed together in concentration, her brow creased. Hazel eyes glittered under thick dark eyebrows in the sunlight that streamed through one of the windows. Seeming unperturbed by the rough sway of the massive boat, the girl drew furiously, not needing to look up at any subject, just drawing. Maybe it was her good looks, or the undercurrent of fierce determination not to botch up her drawing that drew Harry to her. Either one, he simply had to get to know her. Which is how he found himself sitting beside her and behind a small table.

"Hi." Her voice cut through the silence that Harry couldn't bring himself to break. She looked so at peace when she was drawing, he hadn't really wanted to disturb that. Apparently he hadn't, she kept on with gentle strokes of a soft leaded pencil. "My name is Allison. What's yours?"

"Harry Potter." He suddenly felt stupid. He had nothing to say to this girl, what had really possessed him to go over.

"You new then?" It was a public ferry, Aunt Petunia had explained to him before she sent him on his way, the school couldn't afford a private one and there was only a little amount of students that travelled from England anyway.

"Yeah. Um... What year are you in?" He asked softly feeling painfully shy and a little silly, she didn't answer and he plucked at the black school jumper he wore nervously. Just as he was going to excuse himself and make a hasty retreat, Allison placed her pencil down firmly on the table and finally sat up straight.

For the first time she turned to look at Harry. Smiling at the slightly uncomfortable look on his face she picked up what looked like a very expensive sketch pad and placed it in Harry's hands. And he stared back up at him, eyes wide with anticipation, a hand running through his untameable hair. Allison had captured the moment perfectly.

"I'm going to be in year eight. You make a really good subject Harry, have you ever considered modelling?" Harry spared her a skeptical glance before his gazed back at the sketchbook gripped loosely in his hands.

"No, I haven't. You're really good at drawing! Where did you learn? I bet you are just the best in art class – I hope you'll help me, I'm in year eight too." She grinned at him warmly.

"Thanks. Let's get some food?"

xXx

Maths, Harry found, was his best subject and it was a shame that it was just so boring! Week in and week out Monsieur Durand would drone on about mathematical theory for twenty minutes before assigning them thirty questions to complete in total silence by the end of the class. If you didn't complete the questions, then you had to do the remaining ones on top of the already heavy load of homework. If you spoke out of turn, for any reason, it was an automatic detention and the detentions were only over once Durand felt you had finished enough past exam papers.

The classroom was stifling in terms of both tension and temperature and Harry longed to get out of undo his top button. He glanced around the room, irritated and bored out of his mind. He didn't dare raise his hand to tell Monsieur Durand that he had finished, last time he did he had got one question wrong and so had landed himself with double the homework! Monsieur Durand had reprimanded him fiercely and had mocked him in front of the entire class, 'know-it-alls need more work to keep them occupied and out of everyone's hair.' There was nobody Harry hated in the school as much as Monsieur Durand, not even the head teacher who was also pretty strict.

To make things worse (not that Harry now expected anything different, having been at school for four months), they were not able to sit with their friends in class, but instead were sorted in alphabetical order. And Allison, who was a Bonnet, sat right at the front of the classroom. Funnily enough, the front was where most of the children were able to act up. Teachers like Durand who liked to hear themselves talk often cast their gaze at one fixed point (like the ceiling) or their eyes travelled to the back of the room where Harry sat. Even in moments like this, where Durand sat behind his desk doing some marking, their eyes would meet briefly as the teacher checked to see if the students were doing what they were supposed to.

Harry's gaze travelled to the back of Allison's head and blanched as he saw the base of her thick braid sway gently – she wasn't even moving her head. He frowned and looked to Alexander Bryson who sat behind her. Standing suddenly Harry shouted, "Monsieur!" pointing at the disaster that was already taking place. Durand didn't even glance at him as he replied lazily, "Detention, Potter, for speaking out of turn."

The shout however, had Bryson who was already leaning quite far over the table, jerk and the entirety of Allison's braid fell limp in his hand. In the other hand he gripped a shiny pair of large silver scissors. The sound of hair being snipped had sung clearly over Durand's softly spoken reprimand and an odd hush came over the classroom. Everyone stared at Allison, her new short bob had fallen forward and framed her face in a dark halo. Not even the scratch of a pencil filled the room. Allison whirled around, her hands flying to her head wildly.

"What did you do!" Bryson turned around and grinned at Harry stupidly even as Durand also jumped up from his chair, accidently knocking it over with a loud clamour, absolutely furious that a child would disturb his lesson.

"Detention!"

Xxx

It was April and the sun was shining, it's light glistened prettily on the wet cobbled street. It had been raining on and off the entire day but that hadn't put Harry off of exploring, not in the slightest. Taking note of the weather forecast, he had donned his spring jacket and packed a small umbrella in his rucksack. Along with two tuna sandwiches, two bottles of water and a plastic container filled with grapes and strawberries. He had decided to dedicate the entire Saturday to exploring town and the fields just beyond that and had anticipated Allison wanting to come along too. Not to his surprise, she had come barging into his room, disturbing his roommate from his lie-in, and had demanded that they do something fun. The girls on her floor had decided to go shopping but, as usual, they had neglected to invite her – not that Allison cared much. The way that she dealt with those that snubbed her (or pranked her, like Bryson had done a mere three months earlier) was to always make the best of her situation. After the impromptu hair-cut, Allison had not spared another word to Bryson but had got it shaped prettily in the school hairdressers. It had grown out some inches since then, and Harry thought it suited her well.

Harry now waited for Allison outside the school gate and watched a single man pass by slowly. Not many residents of the town came out this far, except for the postman and the man that delivered the food. The school was situated right on the edge of civilisation and all that lay beyond it were wild fields and a rather large forest. Harry wanted desperately to explore that too, but Allison did not want to go and it was not wise to do it by himself.

He was jerked out of his thoughts as a small arm looped through his.

"Let's go Harry, it's already ten!"

"Well I would have left a long time ago if it wasn't for you. Why do you always take so long to get ready Alli?"

"Well, perfection doesn't just happen you know, it takes a little time." Allison replied tartly as she flicked her hair from her face. It now just brushed at her shoulders.

"Perhaps next time, perfection should include a headband. I don't like you flicking your hair like that when you insist on using that horribly strong shampoo." Harry retorted, unwinding his arm from Allison's and walking off, his nose in the air. Allison huffed and stamped her foot on the ground before reluctantly following after him. Since their meeting on the ferry they had become fast friends but they both found that there was something about the other that rubbed them the wrong way. Something that was slightly off. Allison sped up to catch up with Harry and walked beside him again, this time he threw his arm over her shoulder. She glanced up at him, a smile teased her lips.

"Which way are we headed today?"

"South. We're going to pass through town and then that little commune. Then, according to my trusty map, we'll come to the river and there's a little bridge that we can cross to get to the fields just beyond that. I want to see the lake that Christopher told me about last week, it's supposed to be very pretty. And it has fish!" Harry grinned down at Allison excitedly and she blushed a little under the weight of his gaze and his arm.

Xxx

Dear Mrs. Weasley

I hope you and Mr. Weasley are doing well and receive this letter without any problems –I had to contact you through muggle post because Ginny has Hedwig and she hasn't written to me recently.

The reason which I am writing, to put it succinctly, is because I feel as though Ginny has been acting out of character. If this makes sense any at all, she isn't the same girl that I found in the park. And I don't mean that because she got sorted into Slytherin and made new friends. It's ever since she told me about the new diary you bought her as a present to take to Hogwarts. She told me a boy name Tom wrote back to her in the diary and that sometimes she saw him in her dreams – that they were friends. I thought at first that she was being silly, but after I realised that she was speaking to me in total honesty I told her to get rid of it and tell you what had been going on. I told her that someone appearing in your dreams like that couldn't be normal and that it probably wasn't as safe as she thought it was.

The letter I received in return was not nice at all. She dropped all familiarity with me and called me Potter, told me to mind my own business and that I didn't know what I was talking about seeing as I had defected from the wizarding world. And this is what I mean, the Ginny that I had got to know was always nice and polite – caring. In that letter it was almost as if someone else was talking. At first I thought it was because she was having a tough time at school. Ron has been horribly mean to her whenever he sees her and Fred, George and Percy are caught up with their own issues. Ginny told me that she feels they don't care about her anymore, especially with her being in a different House. I hope you can see why I'm so worried – I feel as though there is no-one there to look out for her at all.

I know that there have been students rendered to the hospital wing and that Professor Dumbledore has sent out a notice that Hogwarts might be closing and I don't want to alarm you any more than you probably already are, but I think this is serious. Ginny is my friend and I just want to know that she is ok. I will also enclose the letter that she sent me, I think it might help you understand what I mean. I sincerely hope that nothing is wrong and that I'm just overreacting, but you can never be too sure. Anyway, please get back to me after you have checked on Ginny.

Yours Sincerely,

Harry Potter

P.S. Thank you again for the gifts you sent at Christmas, I put them all to good use.

Molly clutched at her chest, her heart was hammering furiously – neither she nor Arthur had gifted their daughter a diary and certainly not one that talked back. She hadn't heard from Ginny in a while either and although she had sent some owls, no message had come back from her only daughter in nearly a month now. At first she had thought it was because Ginny was settling in and concentrating on her work but now she wasn't so sure. Honestly, she hadn't thought it so strange, the boys had never written back to her throughout the years. Every summer they had allowed her to hug them tightly and pepper kisses on their faces before making them promise to stay in touch next year. Molly sat hunched in her chair as she retrieved the parchment from a flimsy envelope and what she encountered made her hands shake.

At the top of the page was written clearly, Harry. But it was the rest that had Molly turn pale and then a sallow green. At first she thought the letter had been charmed so those that it was not meant for would only see scrambled words. A quick finite was on the tip of Molly's tongue before she realised what she was really looking at. The characters on the page were completely different from the English alphabet but the letter was written in Ginny's handwriting. The names both at the top and the bottom of the page could attest for that alone and there was no scrambling spell that would leave only two words unscathed. No this was a letter, written by Ginny, but in a completely different language. Molly felt a sob hitch at the back of her throat – Ginny didn't know any other languages.

xXx

Dear Mr and Mrs. Weasley,

I am glad that I was able to bring it to your attention and that everything has been resolved now. At first I felt as though I were doing something wrong, like I was betraying Ginny's trust but I'm so glad that I listened to my gut. Things really could have been a lot worse off than they are now and Ginny if you're reading this too, there is nothing wrong with your eyes. Yes, they may have changed slightly and are a reminder of what happened, but take it this way – they are a testament to how strong you are. You survived and will keep on surviving!

I did not know that I was a Parselmouth! That is simply amazing! I mean, I knew that I could talk to snakes (I sent one on Dudley once, at the zoo) but I thought that was just a wizard thing. Wow! That means we can talk in total secret now, Ginny. If it's usually hereditary, does that mean we are closely related? Or did Ginny get the power through the incident?

Thank you for the invitation to spend the summer with you but I'm going to have to decline. Not only do my relatives expect me to stay here at least until the end of my schooling, I have also been invited to spend the summer with my friend Allison at her holiday home. Her dad is working at the moment in Saudi Arabia and so she would be spending the majority of her time alone here.

Surprisingly, I really love my school. At first I was a little shocked that more people didn't speak English, because it's an international school, but I have been able to brush up my skills on the common second language everyone speaks. It's also a little weird writing in English, I don't do it often at all. I am fine, and I'm having a relatively good time – I've been able to keep my magic under wraps and no-one here suspects anything. I would appreciate it if you could send me some texts on magical theory, though.

Ginny, I wish you a very speedy recovery and don't be afraid to write me! I'm not at all angry at you, what happened could have happened to anyone. It was not your fault.

Please tell Ron I said hi, I haven't heard from him in a long time. Take care!

Yours sincerely,

Harry Potter

xXx

It was Allison's fourteenth birthday in a few days and Harry had decided to brave the February cold and search for a gift. But roaming around town proved to be an exercise in futility, what was on offer was either too expensive or too gaudy – neither of which Allison was particularly fond of. Harry had stalked off away from the shops in a huff as he spied yet another pair of diamond earrings in a shop window. He just had to get Alli something! Her father was in Morocco now and she had no other family to celebrate with. Harry found it very unfair of her father to work so much and felt painfully sorry that Alli technically had a parent but was still so alone. He had asked her once, why her father had left her in France, instead of taking her along to Germany where he was usually based. Allison had shrugged in a non-committal sort of way and had changed the subject to Melissa Pudel, the most recent girl who had a crush on the gawky bespectacled boy. Which she knew was the perfect topic to distract Harry, he absolutely hated the attention of the girls from his year, they made him feel terribly awkward.

Harry absently kicked a pebble along the cobbled streets as he started to walk through the commune. Outsiders didn't usually walk this way and the residents became very weary of those that did. They would shut their doors and windows and children would be quickly ushered inside. It was a very strange but beautiful area. Tall trees lined the clean pavements and the old architecture was all painted a spotless cream colour. Harry heard soft muffled footsteps to his left and turned his head to look at the person making the noise. It was an old man hobbling along a quaint alleyway, his careful but sure steps made the few white hairs left on his head bounce delicately in his advance. Harry watched curiously as he stopped suddenly and place his hand on the stone wall. To Harry's surprise it went right through and the old man disappeared with it.

Harry gasped in wonder at what he had just seen. In his year in Dourbies he had not been exposed to any magic save Ginny's owls and he had not suspected that he would be. Harry's eyes raised to the heavens as he realised that all the secrecy and mistrust within this community was because they were a magical community. Right under his nose the entire time had been an opportunity to further his magical studies secretly and now he was faced with the dilemma of exploring or staying well away. He wasn't to know if it was safe or whether or not he would be found out but, Harry realised, there really was no time like the present. And if he were to take the time to mull it over, there was the likelihood that he wouldn't actually get the chance to go out without Allison tagging along. So with baited breath Harry followed the path the old man had taken and he was not disappointed with what he found.

It turned out the wall was a direct portal to the magical streets of Paris. With a touch of his hand, Harry had felt the wall read his magical signature and then he was off, transported right into the hub of the second largest magical centre in Europe. In a panic, Harry stepped into the shadows of a large bank. It wouldn't do to let anyone recognise him, not now when he still was not able to defend himself properly! He drew his mind away from his surroundings and into his body with slight difficulty, he had been practicing this a lot recently but still found it challenging. In doing this, however, Harry was able to become much more aware of himself that he usually was and with this he could do things like heal minor injuries and change his appearance.

Harry stepped back on to the main streets with blond hair, brown eyes and no scar. He donned the air of an unassuming boy – which was not hard, because to all intents and purposes, that was exactly what he was – and started exploring. He would definitely be able to find Allison a muggle-passing present here, as well as some useful books for himself once he exchanged some francs for galleons. He just hoped that the Goblins in France were not as unfriendly as those in England.

xXx

Harry and Allison were sitting in an empty classroom doing their French Literature homework. Well, Allison was doing her homework, Harry was sitting opposite her – they had pushed two tables together to make a larger work space – just staring into space. He often did that when they were alone and Allison made a point never to disturb him, not even when their assignment was due in the next day. There was something about the glint he got in his eye and the way he seemed to completely withdraw into himself that was both slightly unnerving yet fascinating.

When he got like that the entire room seemed to centre around him, as though it was not only his mind that he was drawing inwards. He was like a black hole just ready to consume all that surrounded him and the only thing that kept Allison from feeling like she was in danger or that she was just as insignificant as the pen that he had left discarded on the desk was the soft smile that painted his lips as he sat so still and distant. She did not for one second wonder if that smile was meant for her, or if Harry even knew he was doing it. She felt it was an unconscious expression of peace and Allison did not want to make him feel self-conscious about what he was doing, she liked to watch him in those moments, so she never interrupted.

xXx

"Alli! Alli, don't touch them! No you can't have one, they're mine so put them down! Christ." Allison glared at Harry defiantly, as she purposefully slipped his packet of cigarettes into her bra. Recently he had become so possessive with his things and it annoyed her to no end because she always shared with him: when he asked and even when he didn't. She didn't know if it was because of a spike in his testosterone levels – God help them all through puberty – or because of that Fayola girl he had been seeing but he had been so tense and aggressive lately. Christof Trovoski had messed around with him a little last week and they had got into a huge fight; Chris hand ended up in the nurse's office and Harry had been threatened with expulsion. If her father hadn't interfered, it was very likely that he would have been suspended in the least. But, Allison thought smugly, he had never, ever hurt her intentionally and their fights were always over something stupid. Harry stalked towards her and she thought for a moment if she had assumed wrongly as his green eyes bore into her own darkly. Well she knew he would never hit her, at least.

Then he pounced. Actually pounced on her and they both went tumbling onto his roommate's bed. Ashtar hated whenever anyone touched his bed, but he wasn't there and Allison, it seemed, was fair game. If she had been any other girl, Allison's heart would have been thumping in anticipation with Harry's heavy fifteen-year-old body pinning her to the bed, his face mere inches from her own. But as it was, she knew exactly where she stood with him and nothing had ever happened between them before. That did not, however, prevent the blush from lighting up her cheeks prettily.

"I only wanted one."

He stared at her unblinking and she tugged at the hair on the back of his neck gently. Sighing he rolled over and lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling "You are going to be my undoing Alli." Allison smiled as she jumped up to lean out of the window, lighting the cigarette which dangled from her lips in a flash. She thought back to three years ago, when they were twelve and Harry had been too shy to string more than five words together. He had looked just as lost as she had felt on that ferry and they had become best friends ever since he stood up for her when Madame Boss had laid into her for stealing Tiffany's pocket-watch. Who on earth took a family heirloom to P.E class, she still didn't know, but she thanked the gods for letting that happen – she hadn't known anyone so intimately, platonically of course, as Harry. Ever.

She took a pull before motioning to Harry to join her. He murmured something unintelligible as he sidled up to the open window taking the now warm and slightly squished packet of cigarettes, gently brushing her fingers with his own as he did so. He smiled down at her fondly and she returned it just as warmly. They were friends, both with a secret, but very good friends all the same.

XxX

Dearest Ginny,

I truly miss you Gin. I miss everyone back home and you are my only contact. Did you know that Ron and Hermione have stopped writing to me? I know, shocker. After I told them that I couldn't disclose the information of my whereabouts and that I wouldn't be coming back to Hogwarts they seemed distant and I've only realised lately that they haven't bothered to write at all. It doesn't really surprise me; you are my closest friend. Along with Alli, of course.

I'm fine, thanks for asking. It's been a bit dull around here. The disturbances of magic have stopped now and so there is no way of me tracking who has been making them. Probably a muggleborn who somehow got missed out by L'organisation.

What's been going on with you? I seriously want to know and don't dodge my question like last time either. Are you sleeping fine? Oh, and what's going on between you and Dean, uh? And isn't he a little too old for you, I mean, you're only fifteen. And he's what, sixteen, definitely too old. A year too old in fact. Now that I've broached this subject, how come you never told me about you and Dean? And don't you avoid answering that question either Gin! And no, I won't tell you how I know these things.

On a marginally lighter note, I've heard from Sirius Black. You know, the guy you said was going to try and come after me and kill me in my sleep. Yeah, well he contacted me and told me the most amazing story about, well, me. At least it was mine and my parents' story. I'll tell it to you when I come back over. Which is soon.

I really do miss you. I haven't seen you in years, this isn't in the least bit fair. I love you lots, but I gotta go, Alli has come to investigate what I'm up to. Hope to hear from you soon.

Your Friend,

"What you reading Ginny, you look flushed. Has someone sent you a steamy love note?"

Ginny Weasley was still staring at the elegant slant of Harry's handwriting that she had watched mature over the years. She could only imagine what he looked like now. Probably tall, with the same sparkling green eyes.

"Uh, Ginny, I would appreciate it if you came back from whatever planet you're on, otherwise I'll tell the Hytropes over there to follow you around for the few weeks. And you wouldn't want that would you? No-one in their right mind would want Hytropes following them. But when you're out of your right mind they're loads of fun, I suppose."

"It's a letter from Harry, Luna." Luna's mouth formed an 'o' shape. And then she smiled. The two girls were lounging in the waning September sun by the Lake. Hardly anyone from the school came by the side that they were on, so it gave them great privacy. Not even Dean, Luna thought happily. It was strictly their place and both cherished it.

"How is he?" Ginny glanced over at Luna quickly, not tearing her eyes from the page for long.

"He said that he was fine. But you know Harry," Not really, Luna thought, "He could be on the run from a cult of men-eating women, who had already managed to devour his right arm and he would still say everything is dandy."

"I think you're exaggerating a bit Ginny." The red-head sighed loudly. "How's his girlfriend?" An innocent question.

"Allison is not his girlfriend, Luna Lovegood!" Ginny hissed menacingly, her eyes forming slits as she glared hard into a watery-blue pair. Luna preferred not to be shouted at, but this was something she had decided to no longer leave alone, despite her quietly fuming friend.

"Why would you care either way? You're dating Dean."

"Well I wouldn't be dating Dean if I were dating Harry."

"You have a warped moral compass."

"You mistake your imagination for reality, but we're still friends aren't we?"

Yes, they were friends. Luna smiled softly, watching black winged horses playing in the setting sun. And apart from her father, there was no-one in the world that she loved more than Ginny.

xxx

Albus sat at his desk, mounds of paperwork surrounded his work area, forgotten as he twirled an unused quill between his fingers. There were many a thing wrong with the current situation in Wizarding Britain, most of which he was not able to even start think about tackling, if the amount of paperwork was anything to go by. And the one thing that troubled him the most, was something he had no right truly delving into really. It was he that had left Harry with the Dursleys and his negligence that had resulted in the boy being sent far away. He wasn't even able to meet with the boy's aunt – she had refused his visit and the wards had flared ominously whenever he had tried to apparate himself in. How Petunia had learnt to work the wards, he would never know, but it had become clear to him that she considered himself a danger to the boy and the family. There was a sharp knock at his office door but he barely twitched at the disturbance,

"Come in!" he called distractedly, painting a smile on his face. He noted the two small feet clad in very sensible boots gliding gracefully across the wooden floor and stop at the edge of the expensive rug by his desk. He noted that much, but nothing more as his thoughts continued to whirl noisily in his head.

And Harry… Harry was not at any magical school receiving his much needed education. Albus had visited each and every one of them around in the world in order to try and find a trace of the poor boy and had come up short. No trails, no hint of a clue, just worry and no answers for the most powerful wizards in Britain who were making Harry's whereabouts (or lack of) their business. They had started to call the boy a defector… they had started arguments amongst themselves and challenged the authority of the people in charge. The boy's disappearance had started a whole revolutionary movement almost – people were calling for change and wanted the higher-ups accountable for their actions. They wanted transparency in government, to coin the term used in the highly provocative letter that had been published in The Prophet. All of this change and upset because of one child's disappearance.

And with all of the fuss, Sirius Black had come forward in blind panic and desperation. Madame Bones, of all people, had come to his aid and defence when it had come out that he had not even had a trial for his original imprisonment. Original, because they put him back in Azkaban when he failed to pay his fines (for being an unregistered animagus and having lied and engaged in fraudulent behaviour in order to escape law enforcement) on time. To add insult to injury, it was actually the governments fault as to why he wasn't able to; they were so backed up in bureaucracy that in actual fact they had not got around to unfreezing his funds so that he could pay in time. The man had not been able to employ a very good lawyer – Black was still misunderstood by many - and so had been sentenced to six further months in Azkaban. With all of that being said, he was no longer a convict and had received a large sum in compensation for the years spent wrongfully imprisoned and so if Harry Potter ever returned, he would legally and easily be able to get custody of the boy.

Which definitely wasn't a good thing, the extended period the man had spent in Azkaban had left him unbalanced and unpredictable. Merlin knows what more Black would put Harry through, Harry who had already been through so much! It might even be more worth his while if Harry was left in the custody of Voldemort. Surely Tom, before killing the lad, would give him some hands on learning experience especially now that he had successfully regained a body… His thoughts were entering a place darker than usual and even he, owner of his mind, was getting uncomfortable witnessing the thread it was going down.

"Albus! Have you been listening to a word I've said?"

He had Tom to thank for these dark thoughts, anxiety had been plaguing him ever since the bastard had regained a body and rightfully so – the Death Eaters had been released from Azkaban, the dementors naturally firmly on the dark side of this war. And if the dementors found Harry Potter before he did, they would surely Kiss him and the war would be lost before it had even truly began. Victory counted on Harry's love for the wizarding world and his ability to fight… there would be very dark times ahead if the child was not located soon. In this kind of climate, Albus needed all of the allies he could get and could not afford to lose the people he thought were on side. But already, Severus Snape has given his two week notice and Minerva was struggling with the work load of being teacher, Head of House and Deputy Headmistress. Fudge was threatening to shut down the school if -

"Albus, I'll say it one more time, if you don't listen, I will just assume you don't care."

- he did not comply with having a member of the ministry teach and oversee the happenings of the school. Oh, and of course make an official public announcement stating that there was no need for a National Emergency: to lie and say that Voldemort had not come back. It was of no use though, the public already knew, at least those discerning enough to read into the series of events that have started to take place. Well, those discerning enough were probably supporters of that darn revolutionary movement.

"...Potter... here... France... weeks..."

Not to mention how much pressure the school board was putting on teachers and students alike, the last NEWT scores hadn't been up to scratch in their opinion. No-one was taking into account that they, the Joe Public (no matter how important they deemed themselves to be) had elected in this government that had in turn cut the school funds. Less money meant less resources and a lower calibre of teachers: the good teachers knew how much their time was worth and even disregarding that, not everyone was able to afford their lifestyle on such low pay. Nothing was okay.

"Albus!" He had not heard his name thundered so threateningly since he had been a boy grasping at his mother's skirts. Two worn hands had been slammed on the surface in front of him and his eyes snapped up to meet his guest's, their face inches away from his own. Albus felt his ears warm; he had been rude.

"I apologise, Minerva, I was away with the fairies. Say that again my good dear." She sighed in exasperation and rolled her eyes, leaning away from him slightly as the red of her cheeks began to fade to pink. Minerva McGonagall was not quick to temper, as stern as she was it took a fair bit to rile her up, but was definitely quick to calm down once an apology had been made.

"An official ministry report on Harry Potter has been filed, by Tonks. He was spotted in France with The Princess by one of her body guards, who used to be one of ours. The guard contacted Tonks who relayed the information in an Order meeting some weeks ago. Since you've been so preoccupied lately, she used her initiative and has gone out there to retrieve him and will be back in a couple of weeks."

Relief shuddered down his spine and settled in his stomach warmly – the boy had been found! Thank goodness he was alive and presumably well. He beamed a wide smile at his deputy,

"That is most excellent news!" But the words tasted oddly bitter the moment the left his lips. And he knew, he just knew that it was because something was still unsatisfactory about Harry coming back. It should have been him that went to retrieve the boy, they would have talked and Albus reckoned that he would have been able to reignite the trust that Harry used to have in him. The official ministry report could not have been avoided either, she would have needed to take some time off and apply for a international portkey. No-one was getting any time off at the ministry these day and so one had to have a concrete reason but... he just wished the ministr didn't have to find out so soon. With a loud sigh, Albus ignored Minerva's quizzical look as he pushed his spectacles high up on his forehead and scrubbed at his eyes. At least they had found the boy.