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CHAPTER POSTED: 21 June, 2019

CHAPTER SIZE: 31,606

Chapter 3
Landing At Hogwarts

Harry Randall Forrester

Monday, 30 May, 1994

Harry landed at the end of Tonks portkey and only missed falling in the mud because Tonks had her arm around him. He was face-down grasping Tonks coat and only had one foot still on the ground. He growled loudly, "I am not doing this again without some dramamine!" He straightened up slowly and saw the biggest, wildest castle he could ever imagine. "Whoa! Look at that!" And two people standing a few feet away just inside of some very ornate iron gates. The castle had flags fluttering in the breeze from the top of towers and turrets, crenelated parapets, peaked roofs with gargoyles, statues, and gryphons. Harry saw a tower built out of the side of another larger tower. He pointed, "Look at that! That can't happen!"

The old man waiting on the other side of the gate turned to look, "Is there a problem, Mr Potter?"

Harry was confused by the name, but ignored it in favour of the engineering impossibility. "That tower. It can't stand up. That is not properly supported from below."

The old man chuckled, "Oh, but it is. It's supported by magic."

Harry pried his eyes off the violation of physics and looked suspiciously at the old man with crazy clothes. He looked like a wild Gandalf wanna-be. Except shorter. And rounder.

"I am Headmaster Dumbledore and this is Professor McGonagall. Welcome to Hogwarts, Mr Potter."

Harry did not register the name. It wasn't him, but if they insisted – whatever. He nodded to them stiffly, "The name is Harry Randall Forrester." He was tired, his temper was short, and he was not happy. He didn't understand why, other than that 'Dawlish' idiot. But – this whole thing frustrated him.

"Mr Potter, perhaps we should start with a short tour?"

"Forrester!" Harry had a momentary flash of anger that the Gandalf-guy hadn't listened and still called him Potter. He was about to start walking with them when he remembered, "Oh, my stuff." He turned to his horns and suitcases.

"They will be brought in for you in a few moments."

Harry looked back and looked around at the forest nearby, "Those horns are over $2000 each. You feel safe with that?"

Tonks did the quick math, "That's quite a bit over 100 Galleons each."

Dumbledore and McGonagall's eyebrows rose.

Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, there will be someone here in a few seconds to fetch them."

Harry decided to trust him, "All right."

Dumbledore smiled, "Then, let us begin."

They started walking slowly up toward the huge front doors of the castle. Dumbledore was explaining the history of the castle, the founders, the history of magic in Britain, the role the Potter family had played in that history. They started walking through the castle as the Headmaster described the statues, the paintings that moved, the secret passages, he even described just a bit of his birth-parents time in the castle. This really set him on edge. When the headmaster started talking about the curriculum, an overview of the classes and subjects, Harry was stressed. He felt boxed in, confined, claustrophobic. So when the headmaster stopped, as if he was done with the classes, Harry was about to burst.

He stopped in the hallway and looked at the headmaster. "Is that all?"

The headmaster was surprised, "All? Were you expecting more?"

"Where is the music?"

"Music is a personal endeavour. We applaud it's expression but we do not have any need for it here."

Harry about burst, his frustration leaking out in clipped tones, "What about Physics? Engineering? Medicine?"

The headmaster was starting to think he missed something, "We do not need physics or engineering because magic obviates the need. We have some introductory self-study classes for medi-witch training. Most of that is handled in apprenticeship programs through St Mungo's, the magical hospital."

Harry was struggling against incredulity as his voice rose, "Calculus? Science? Chemistry?"

The headmaster smiled with an answer he could give, "We have Arithmancy, which is the study of the mathematical basis for spells and magical manipulation. We have the study of potions that is an equivalent to chemistry."

"But potions is not chemistry! And I bet Arithmancy is not calculus!"

"They are excellent studies of the magical arts."

Harry was pacing around unable to stand still, "But what about the rest of the world? Do you only study magic?" His incredulity was about to burst.

The headmaster missed the implications, "What more is there?"

Harry snapped to face him, "Are you out of your MIND?" Harry just couldn't handle it, "You want me to come to this school, abandon all my previous plans, ideas, and dreams and take a hard left turn into – a dead end?"

The headmaster started to stress, "There is no end to the study of magic, Mr Potter."

Harry stalked closer, anger burning his words, "But to ignore the rest of the world? Are you insane?"

The headmaster started again, "Mr Potter, there are laws that require everyone with magic to study magic so they are not a danger to themselves or anyone else. Everyone must learn to control it."

"And by ignoring the rest of the world you force all these students to be dependent on magic alone. You isolate them from any potential in the wider world! You segregate them into a ghetto of magic!" He went nose to nose with the headmaster with a derisive tone, "Why the hell would I ever want to come here?"

The headmaster was taken aback. He was off balance. His confidence shaken by this – student.

McGonagall's eyes were saucers, particularly since he had valid points.

Tonks saved the day, "Perhaps dinner is in order? Before we miss it?"

Harry looked to Tonks with a very intense expression, "Lead on." He turned away from Dumbledore and started following Tonks. Dumbledore and McGonagall were caught out and left standing for a moment.

Luckily, it was a long walk to the Great Hall. Tonks lead the way, Harry followed deep in thought, with Dumbledore and McGonagall silent in the rear. The doors to the Great Hall were closed when they got there. They were holding back a storm of noise on the other side of them. Tonks threw open the doors with a spell and stood aside as Harry walked in to abrupt silence as all eyes turned to focus on him.

Harry stopped suddenly. "My God. This is amazing." He looked around, listening to the space.

Everyone started whispering as everyone knew exactly who this person was. The rumour mill had said TheHarry Potter was coming to Hogwarts. He was wearing stylish muggle clothes. With an annoying American accent.

Dumbledore smiled proudly and said, "The enchantment on the ceiling is wonderful, isn't it?"

Harry looked around in wonder, "What? Oh no, not the special effects, the sound! The acoustics are awesome! Listen to this!" Harry clapped his hands once sharply and counted the 7 distinct echo's. The room fell completely silent at the clap. Harry started clapping again slowly to dial in a tempo matching the multiple echo's. He started clapping like a Flamenco dancer creating a syncopated rhythm that interacted with his own echos. He added in stomping his foot occasionally. He wandered off to one side and found a resonant spot in the hall, where his clapping was amplified and filled the hall.

Everyone in the Great Hall was dumbstruck by this strange display, until a few started clapping along. Then everyone started joining in, but they were rushing the tempo like mad, nor could they seem to find 2 and 4.

"Wait! Wait!" Harry started waving his arms and laughing, moving closer to the tables, "Two and four! Two and four, guys. Here, let's try that again. Ready?" Harry started counting and clapping emphasising 2 and 4, and pulled everyone else in, "1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4. That's it, now don't rush, just stay with the echo." Harry started clapping his flamenco beat for a few minutes, moving into triplets and septuplets within the beat of the hall and the echo's. Then he yelled, "Ready! 2, 3, STOP!" and threw his arms out like a baseball ref calling a runner safe and the hall stopped as one. The hall broke out in wild applause including Harry.

As the applause died down Harry picked it up again loudly, "OK, everybody. Let's try this. This table, do this." Harry pointed to the Gryffindor table and started clapping a rhythm, "1, 2, 3-and, 4. 1, 2, 3-and, 4. Keep doing that. Now, this table. Lets try this." Harry pointed to the Ravenclaw table, "1-and, 2, 3, 4. 1-and, 2, 3, 4. That's it, keep going. Now this table, try this." Harry pointed at the Hufflepuff table, "1, 2-and, 3, 4. 1, 2-and, 3, 4. Yes! Keep going. Focus on your parts! Now this table gets the hard part." Harry pointed at the Slytherin table, "Trip-pl-let, 2, trip-pl-let, 4. Trip-pl-let, 2, trip-pl-let, 4." This went on for a few measures until Harry yelled over the clapping, "Now let's add in a stomp. Each table stomp your foot when I point to you!" Harry waited for 1 and pointed at each table in turn on each beat. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. The rhythm got a little wobbly at first but stabilised by the end of measure 2. On measure 4 Harry yelled out, "OK, 2, 3, STOP!" The hall exploded with laughter and cheers.

Harry turned to Dumbledore and McGonagall, "I love marching band games! Where is my horn when I need it! These acoustics are awesome!"

Harry turned back to the crowd applauding with them while Dumbledore called a house elf who popped Harry's horns into the floor behind him and disappeared. As the applause wound down Dumbledore called to Harry, "Harry, will these do?"

Harry turned and yelled, "Yes!" He ran to the cases and opened his mellophone case, popped in the mouthpiece, stood rigid at marching band attention with his back to the students for a second thinking. The hall fell silent in anticipation.

He then snapped an about-face, snapped the horn up and hit a gentle Bb above middle C and held it. The entire hall froze with wide eyes as the sound filled the space and mixed with the echo softening it further. He held the note bringing in a slow gentle vibrato. He moved into a slow interpretation of Schubert's 'Ave Maria' melody, arpeggiating up the Bb Major chord, trilling the last note. He ran down the G minor 6 and back up the Bb Major, strengthening and softening in turn. He embellished the melody, winding around the rhythm with notes that pulled at everyone. This was music at it's purest. The naked expression of a single instrument played masterfully. Harry's magic leaped with the sound calling to everyone, pulling them in, enveloping them, filling them. It reached from soul to soul and touched them, with a tenderness that slipped under their intellect, their reasons, their intentions. Straight to their heart. Everyone was moved.

Dumbledore was holding back tears, "Minerva, do you feel that?"

She looked at him with shock, "What is it?"

"Harry's magic – it's unbelievable. Accidental magic developed to a degree I have never heard of before. And focussed by the music. – Or focussed on the music? It's as beautiful as the music."

Harry's improvisation around Ave Maria was touching and gentle. Everyone was profoundly affected. As it ended no one moved, no one made a sound, unwilling to break the magical silence. The music was a once-in-a-decade rain in a parched desert to all those without music in their lives.

After a few moments Harry started patting his pockets looking for something, "Uh – anyone got a piano in their pocket?"

Light laughter wandered around the Great Hall as Dumbledore snapped his fingers and whispered to the elves that popped in. Before the laughter stopped about ten house elves walked through the doors levitating a grand piano. They set it down to one side of the doors and all popped out.

Dumbledore pointed to the piano, "Harry?"

Harry turned and was dumbstruck, "Where did you get that?" Before anyone could answer he ran to put his mellophone in it's case and ran to open the top of the piano and sat down. He ran a two-handed scale up a few octaves. As he ran down his hands separated into scales at different speeds, smoothly decelerating through several chord changes, he melded into a slow melancholy 'Over the Rainbow'. He played the first verse lightly improvising around the melody. The minor key and complex chord changes pulled everyone in to the gentle sway of the phrases. Then, to everyone's surprise, Harry started lightly singing and playing the first two verses, interpreting the melody.

The beauty of Harry's music and magic was shocking in it's vulnerability, in it's sensitivity. His sound filled the hall, his magic reached into everyone and pulled them in. He sang the bridge and then improvised on the piano through the last verse, winding around the melody. Then he started singing the first verse again. Harry's gentle treatment of the song continued until he rose to a strong heart-felt climax at the end of the verse and into the beginning of the second verse. Then he faded back into a soft ending. And a reverent silence.

A few claps started the avalanche that quickly jumped to a roaring standing ovation.

Harry stood to take a few bows, then quickly moved to his music cases that the elves had brought and he dug out a very thick spiral-bound book. He turned to Dumbledore as the applause was dyeing down, "Do you have any drums here?" Harry turned back toward the piano.

Dumbledore snapped his fingers and spoke to the elves that popped in,

Harry turned to the hall, "How many here play piano?" Silence. "How many took piano lessons?" He raised his hand, "Raise your hand if you took any piano lessons."

Shocked silence. Then a small slow hand started to rise.

Harry motioned them to come up, "Excellent! Could you come and help?"

Harry moved to the piano and set the huge book on it and smiled back expectantly to the girl with bushy brown hair who looked skeptical. "Please? It will be easy, I promise."

Resignedly she stood up and moved toward the piano.

Elves started popping in with parts of a simple drum set they set down next to the piano, behind Harry.

Harry turned back to the hall, "Does anyone have any experience playing drums?" Silence. "Of any sort?"

Slowly a black-haired boy stood up, "I've only played traditional Irish drums but I can give it a try."

"Excellent. That's perfect. What's your name? I'm Harry." Harry extended his hand and shook the other boy's.

"Seamus Finnegan." He moved toward the drums and began setting them in a comfortable configuration.

Harry smiled, "Ah, the Irish love for music." Harry turned to the bushy-haired girl, "What is your name?"

'"Hermione Granger. But I haven't played anything in three years."

Harry smiled and turned to leafing through the huge fake-book, "Not a problem. How many years did you take lessons?"

Hermione did not look convinced at Harry's confidence, "About 5 years of classical music lessons. I've never done any recitals or competitions or anything." She kept trying to convince Harry of her unsuitability.

Harry was looking through the big book until he found the right song, "Here it is! Here look at this." He set it down on the piano music stand.

Hermione looked in shock, "What is that? There's only a melody, where is the piano part?"

Harry was full of confidence and excitement, "Here, see? It's 3/4 time, in the key of C. We'll play this as a slow waltz. It's called 'Alice In Wonderland'. These symbols are the chords. –"

"But I've never played chords before. I have no idea how."

Harry chuckled, "Even better! I'll show you how. See right here, these symbols show the chord. This first one is a D chord. You know what a D is, right?"

Hermione looked overwhelmed but was concentrating hard, "Yes, but –"

"This part says it's a minor chord. Do you know the difference between a major and a minor chord?"

She nodded, "Yes, but only arpeggios of triads in exercises. I've never done anything more complex than that."

Harry smiled, "That's perfect. That's all we need to start. Play the root and the 5th in your left hand and the triad in your right."

Hermione sat on the piano bench and started really looking through the music, "Wait, what's that symbol mean?"

"That is a half-diminished chord. Take a minor chord and drop the 5th by a half-step too. That works for half-diminished and full-diminished chords, for right now."

Hermione's face was incredulous, "Wait, – flat-9? What's that?"

Harry laughed, "You can ignore any number that is 7 or above for now."

Hermione squeaked, "ALT? What's an ALT chord?"

Harry laughed even more and reached around her, an arm on either side, breathing into her hair to hit the E-ALT chord at the end of the first verse, "It's based on the Super-Locrian mode. – Here, just put your fingers here and remember that shape. I'll explain what it is later."

Hermione looked at him with an undercurrent of interest, "The super-what?" She shook her head to clear her thoughts but was still nervous, "But there's no rhythm. What do I play?"

"Whatever you want."

Hermione looked like she was about to cry.

Harry laughed and gave her a one-armed hug over her shoulder, "Just start with holding the chord for each measure. But as Seamus starts playing you can fit into his rhythm. The important thing is to hit the changes. You hit the end of one chord and the beginning of the next, that way you mark when they change – it helps keep me honest. Everything else is optional."

Harry turned to Seamus, "OK, Seamus. This is a 3/4 waltz with 8-bar phrases, A-A-B-A form. Make sense?"

Seamus nodded a little wide-eyed, "Uh – sure. I think."

Harry moved to his cases, pulled out his flugelhorn, and started slowly snapping his fingers, "OK, let's start at about 95. I'll play the melody very straight for the first verse and then I'll start mixing it up a bit, OK? One, two, three."

Seamus started with a pick-up, and settled into an easy waltz.

Hermione hit the first chord and held it.

Harry started the melody with a very straight rhythm but a lot of expressive inflections on his tone. Within four bars they had relaxed into a comfortable waltz, something that Hermione would never have believed. By the second verse a groove had been established and Harry moved into improvising around the melody. The music filled the room and was immediately infectious. Aided by Harry's magic pulling everyone along.

A few older students got up and started waltzing. Harry's syncopated rhythm was stepping up the intensity and drive. The trio started pushing the beat. Hermione even started syncopating, differentiating left and right hands, arpeggiating, and then started inverting some of the chords. Harry's drive pushed them to a very intense crescendo at the end of the bridge, then they fell back into a quiet melody on the last verse. Harry slowly let it fade out at the end.

The Great Hall jumped in applause.

Harry pulled Hermione and Seamus up to take their bows, even with Hermione still looking in a state of shock.

As the applause was fading Dumbledore pulled McGonagall's sleeve and she leaned down to hear what he said, "Minerva, did you see that? I've never heard of anything like that before!"

She looked confused, "What, Albus? It was certainly excellent music –"

He was breathless, "No. Harry's magic infused – supported? – has influenced both Miss Granger and Mr. Finnegan's performances. Their skill level was significantly increasing even as they continued playing."

McGonagall was aghast, "But – how? Legillimency? How could it influence their thoughts and actions while playing?"

Dumbledore was shaking his head, "I have no idea. But we need to find out if it is a permanent change for each of them or is it only a temporary influence while playing with Harry."

McGonagall was still surprised, "Either way, it's still unheard of."

Albus smiled, "Yes, but imagine teaching any subject this way? Magic does it all, and possibly very quickly."

McGonagall's face dropped.

Dumbledore moved to Harry, "Mr Potter, please, enjoy our hospitality." He motioned toward the Gryffindor table, "Miss Granger, please assist Mr Potter."

Harry was smiling serenely, "Thank you. – Oh! Let me put my stuff away." He moved to pack up his instruments.

Hermione followed him, "Mr Potter?"

Harry looked up from kneeling and closing his horn cases and smiled, "Please, call me Harry. You did really well on the piano." He stood up and moved toward the piano as Hermione followed.

"Ah – Thank you. I never would have believed I could play that kind of music. It was – amazing! How long have you been playing?"

Harry was closing the top of the piano, "About – six years."

Hermione was surprised, "Only six years?"

Harry smiled again, "Well, in America, music classes are available as a normal part of school."

"They have music in wizarding school?"

Harry sat down on the piano bench and started playing snippets of music, "Ah – I have no idea. I only learned about magic on Saturday. I was in normal school. I just finished first year in high school."

Hermione was surprised, "They have music in school? What kind of music?"

Harry smiled, thinking back as he continued playing. "Oh boy. I was in marching band, wind ensemble, the percussion ensemble, jazz band, choir, and they had musical theatre too so I played in the pit orchestra, it was awesome! I had so much fun."

Hermione just stared at him in shock. "All that?"

Harry laughed, "Yea, it was a lot. I played trumpet in wind ensemble, mellophone in marching band, –"

"What's a mellow-fone?"

Harry chuckled, "It's the first horn I played. It's basically a French horn in a marching configuration, shaped like an oversized trumpet. I played vibes in the percussion ensemble, I sang and played piano in choir, piano in jazz band, and just for fun I played baritone, French horn, and trumpet in the pit orchestra." Harry laughed at Hermione's shocked expression. "It was a blast! I didn't have time to think straight with my calculus and physics and other classes but I loved it! Wouldn't trade it for anything."

Hermione started looking a little green with envy. "How did you get so good in only six years?"

Harry shrugged, "I take private lessons. Marching band is almost 20 hours per week of practice outside of classes. Winter percussion group is about 20 hours, too. My middle school had a percussion group and lots of music too. Just a lot of hard work." Harry smiled, "So you took piano lessons for five years?"

"Yes, but nothing like what you were doing. Wait – you said 40 hours per week?"

Harry laughed again, it was musical as well. "Only 20 hours per week. Marching band is in the fall and percussion group is winter, jazz band is winter and spring. Choir and wind ensemble are all year long. Yea – I'm a bit of a fanatic."

Hermione smirked, "Well, I would be too if I could play like you." Hermione shook her head in confusion, "Wait, you said you only heard about magic on Saturday? How did you not go to magical school?"

Harry looked confused, "I have no idea. These guys from the US Magic Department showed up and said that I was born Harry Potter and that the Queen asked for me back. They didn't say much else, so – I really have no idea about any of this." He motioned around the room.

Hermione leaned on the piano as Harry played. It took her a moment, "So, are you going to come to school here now?"

Harry stopped playing and covered his face with his hands, "To be honest, I wasn't really planning on it." He looked up, quite conflicted, "I had all these plans. I wanted to try out for Drum Corps next December. I wanted to go to college in Engineering of some sort, or a physics degree, or maybe math. Music is what lights me up and – there's no music here. No physics classes, no calculus. I don't know why I would want to stay here. I'm not even all that excited by this magic business. It seems like a hard left turn to – nowhere. It's not where I was headed." Harry just shook his head slowly in deep concern.

Hermione was staring at him with such conflict in her eyes, "Yes. I understand. How long will you be here?"

"Till the end of your school year. My school got out already."

Hermione looked dejected and just nodded.

Harry's heart tugged seeing her so sad. He smiled, "Here." He budged over and patted the piano bench, "Let play something."

She sat down a little nervous, "What?"

Harry dug in his fake-book until he found the right song and plopped the huge book down on the stand. "Here it is. 'All The Things You Are.' Key of A-flat major." He started playing the tune lightly and establishing a slow catchy rhythm. "Let's try it this way –" He got up and stood behind her putting his arms on either side of her, still playing the song. "You play the root of the chord down in this octave," He poked a few notes down low, "I'll play the chords above, in this octave. You play the melody up here, and I'll play around above that." He was still playing the song.

Other students started to gather around the piano and listen.

"Wait – when do I start?"

Harry smiled, "I'm almost to the end of the phrase and then we'll start at the top again." He played the last two measures of the phrase, "And 2, 3, 4."

Hermione played a very straight melody and simple bass line while Harry syncopated the chords and ran an improvised syncopated counter-melody on top of it all. The groove was so catchy that Hermione started syncopating the main melody too.

Harry's high improvised melody started gaining intensity as it wandered around Hermione's melodic tone. Hermione started laughing as Harry started wandering his high melody down into her melodic territory and bouncing his hand over the top of hers, playing on both sides of hers. Harry started singing the melody along with Hermione's playing it. Then he started singing a harmony to Hermione's melody. Hermione kept laughing because Harry was singing into her hair.

"Ah!" Hermione made a noise as she dropped the melody for a second because she was laughing so much.

"Keep going. Here comes the bridge!" Harry was encouraging her as he kept ramping up the intensity with his driving chords and wild improvisation. "And now for the big finish!" Harry broke down into bombastic big chords as he marched the tune to a crash landing as Hermione laughed at his antics. The tune ended as Harry ran wild scales up and down around her until he hit a low F octave and kept running it until he killed the song as all the students cheered and clapped.

The students were all flowing toward the doors now as dinner had ended.

Harry looked around, "Ooops, did I miss dinner? Now I'm starving."

Hermione stood up and looked around, "Oh, I guess we did. Well, no matter. We can stop by the kitchens and get some. I'll show you. This way."

"Wonderful, thank you." Harry looked at Hermione, "I take it this is all old-hat to you."

Hermione looked at Harry like he spoke a foreign language, "Old what?"

Harry laughed, "Old-hat, um – boring, well-known, nothing new?"

Hermione smirked, "Well, actually, not so much."

Harry made a curious face.

"This is my third year here but I didn't know anything of magic before coming here, either."

"Really? Does that happen often?"

"I think it's about 20 percent of the students here."

Harry nodded acceptance, "Nice to know I'm not alone."

"Ah, but that's not the case."

Harry was again practicing his confused look, "I don't understand."

"Well, the Potter family is one of the oldest, most respected families in England."

"My Potter family? As in – me?" He was pointing his finger at his chest.

Hermione chuckled, "Yes, as in you!" Hermione pointed her own finger at Harry's chest. "You are the last of the Potters. I guess they really didn't tell you anything."

Harry rolled his head and his eyes around, "Wellll, it is possible that I might not have listened as closely as is humanly possible every second of the time - but I was in shock. And they spoke sooo fast. – With this very strange accent." He had a sly grin.

"Ha! Accent! This is the Queen's English, mind you." She started wagging her finger and grinning, "Just because you rascals across the pond have wandered away from the True Faith – what am I to say?"

Harry was chuckling, "I don't care what you say, just keep talking. I think it's beautiful. Love that accent!"

Hermione huffed in embarrassment – and couldn't think of anything to say. She just looked at him with a wry smile, on the verge of hexing him. "You know, there are a lot of hexes I could hit you with right now."

"Oh, really? –" A bit of movement caught the corner of Harry's eye and he stopped and looked around. "We haven't gone too far, have we?"

Hermione looked at Harry with a confident grin, "Well, I think some of us may have gone too far."

Harry looked askance, "Oh – yes, well. I guess some of us are truly talented, but –" He looked around, "Is this the right place?" He caught movement in a painting on the wall. "Did that just move? Do all the paintings move here?"

Hermione looked where he was pointing, "I don't know any that don't move."

Harry was shocked to see someone walk into the frame of the painting, "Will you look at that?"

The figure stopped and turned, "Look at what, young man?"

Harry jumped back, "That's not just a screen? That's a – a video game?"

Hermione laughed and the painting had some choice words for Harry.

Hermione reached out and held onto Harry's arm while she recovered, "Harry, remember where you are. This is a magical castle. That is a magical painting. One that has an image of the personality of the subject."

Harry moved closer and squinted closely at the painting, "Jeeze, Louise!"

The painting became indignant, "Bah! My name is Valentina, not Louise!"

Hermione broke out laughing as Harry jumped back with an affronted look. She gathered herself and spoke to Valentina, "My apologies, Valentina. My acquaintance is American and therefore lacks a little – sophistication, but he means well."

Valentina glared, "Teach him well, young lady."

Hermione nodded as she pulled Harry down the hall.

Harry wiped his brow theatrically, "Whew! That was a close one. I was afraid I was going to have to sneer at her, or something."

Hermione started chuckling, "Oh, you Americans." She stopped him in the hall, "We're here."

Harry looked around the empty corridor, "Um, yes, we are certainly here – and not over there." He pointed down the hall. "But – where is here?"

Hermione brought her hand to her forehead and barely kept from breaking down into a smile. "'Here', is where the kitchens are."

Harry's eyes grew wide and he looked around, "Mmm, don't-cha need a stove in order to qualify as a kitchen? Or are magical kitchens that different?" He kept looking around the empty corridor and into the painting on the wall.

Hermione smiled deviously and put on an accent, "Jus' you wait, 'Enry 'Iggins. Jus' you wait!"

Harry burst out laughing at the old movie quote from 'My Fair Lady'.

Hermione reached out and opened the painting to the kitchens.

Noise and light came pouring out and interrupted Harry's outburst. His face changed from laughter to an amazed gasp in a wink.

Hermione dragged him inside. They were immediately surrounded by a gaggle of the cutest Yoda-like things Harry had ever seen. Harry moved forward, "Whoa! What are you guys?"

The older one in the lead, with the most dignity, said, "We are house elves, Mister Harry Potter, sir. We work for Hogwarts."

Harry looked suspiciously at them, "Aaaand, you have a cousin named Yoda?"

Hermione started giggling.

The house elf put her hands on her hips and looked stern, "Yoda is my grand-uncle and we don't let him help any more. He is too old and makes a mess." She nodded her head in finality – with waggling ears and possibly a touch of a smile.

Meanwhile Harry and Hermione were laughing.

As Harry and Hermione eventually started to calm down, the head house elf interrupted, "I understand you came for some food?"

Harry desperately tried to control himself, "Yes, ma'am. We got sidetracked during dinner and we would really appreciate some now."

The elf huffed, "Sidetracked? Americans and their corrupting language." That smile was still peeking out. She snapped her fingers and food came flying to land on a small table off to the side of the main activity. "Dinner is served." She bowed and motioned to the table.

Harry bowed as well, "Thank you my lady." He turned to Hermione, "After you, my lady."

"Thank you, Mr Potter." Hermione sat at the table.

Harry shook his head, "The name's Forrester. I don't think I'm going to get used to that." He sat down and started perusing the cuisine with interest.

Hermione nodded with concern, "I guess that must be difficult, having everyone call you by the wrong name." She started serving herself some potatoes.

Harry smirked a bit, "I barely notice it most of the time. But when I do, it really catches me."

"What are your parents like? – The ones you grew up with?"

Harry smiled in the distance, "Dad is amazing. He's a mild-mannered insurance agent by day and a secret super-hero musician by night. I play with his band every so often. Actually, I was set to have a summer job of playing in my dad's band – but this came up." He waved his hand around absently. "Mom is amazing too. She's a paediatric nurse at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston – that's where I showed up one day. Left in the emergency room bleeding and injured. Broken ribs, arm, cracked skull, concussion. Whoever left me, ran off leaving only the name of Harry. That's all the nurses knew of me."

Hermione's eyes were moist, her hand covering her mouth, "I'm sorry."

Harry shrugged, "I have no idea of the circumstances. Why was I injured? Why was I even there, if I was born over here? How did I get there? I can't even guess."

Hermione was quiet, "And no one's told you?"

Harry shook his head, "Nope. But I'll wring it out of someone's hide. If I can ever figure out who's hide to wring." He smirked, then shrugged. "It's not like it's all that burning of a question for me anyway. I like the life I have. I don't need to go searching for something else."

"You said you finished your first year in high school? All the history books said you would be in the same year as me."

Harry smiled, "Yea, I was moved up a grade in – primary, I guess you call it. I can't remember how that relates to your grades. – Wait – you said history books?"

Hermione smiled ruefully, "Yes, well ... You're famous over here. You even have a title."

Harry looked darkly suspicious, "Title? Like Baron or something? –" Harry's expression turned jokingly-excited, "Oooh, I could be Baron von Potter?"

Hermione laughed, then shook her head, "No, it's worse than that."

Harry covered his face with his hands, "Oh, God. Go ahead. Let me have it."

Hermione smiled with compassion, "Over here you are known as 'The-Boy-Who-Lived'."

"Oh, my God!" Harry got up and started pacing. His hands stuffed in his pockets. "You've got to be kidding! Who the hell did that?" He paced one more circuit and stopped, "How am I ever going to be able to go back in the Great Hall? I'll die of embarrassment."

Hermione was truly sympathetic, but she couldn't stop chuckling.

"Ah, your sympathy is killing me."

Hermione just laughed harder.

Harry couldn't stop himself and started laughing too. He shook his head. Eventually he came back and sat down to finish eating. "So what else do these history books say?"

"Well – they all say that you are supposed to have a very distinctive scar on your forehead. In the shape of a lightning bolt."

Harry looked confused, "A scar? I've never had a scar. Not that I know of. Though I was pretty injured."

Hermione looked curious and confused at Harry, and at his forehead.

Harry shrugged with a bit of a smile, "No idea. My mom said my heart stopped a few times, but ..." He shrugged again.

Hermione grimaced but was trying to be sensitive, "Ok. Well, there are some books that are obviously fantasy books. Ones that have you saving people from dragons at the age of eight and what-not."

Harry looked darkly, "Ah, yea, definitely fantasy. – I've never saved anyone from dragons before."

"Um – just so you know – the dragon part is real."

Harry started whinging and whimpering, "Nooo-ho-ho – don't tell me that." He covered his face with his hands.

Hermione sighed, "There are other books that try to be real history books but no one really knows the truth so everyone kind of guesses."

"So, there's nothing I can trust?" He peeked out from behind his hands.

"No. I'd say not."

Harry stifled a giant yawn behind his hands. "Now it's really hitting me. I think I need to be horizontal soon."

Hermione smiled at his strange words, "We need to find McGonagall. She will know where you are sleeping tonight."

Harry's eyes were really starting to droop, "Sounds good. Lead on." They got up and started moving.

Harry stopped, raised his hand high and waved to the room, "Thank you little Yoda's!"

Cackling laughter came back and didn't stop until it was cut off by the painting closing behind them.

Hermione pulled Harry left toward the stairs up to the main level, "We should look for Professor McGonagall in her office."

"Ok, how many miles away is that?"

Hermione smirked, "Third floor, west side."

Harry looked like he was drooping, "Can't we do that port-key thing and get there easier?"

"No, sorry." They started climbing up the main staircases.

"Whoah, this is a big space." Harry started humming a bit.

"Yes, it's – What's that?" Hermione looked around quite surprised.

"What?" Harry was playing innocent.

"That singing – or humming –" She was looking over the railing and up toward the other staircases.

"Humming? You hear humming?"

She looked at him closely, "You! What are you doing?"

Harry looked around in more innocence, "Me? Doing something?"

She looked at him frustrated, "Yes! You! I can see you're up to something. What?"

"Just humming."

She looked confused, "That's you?" She started looking around again, "How?" They reached the top of the stairs.

Harry smiled and took pity on her confusion, "I started humming and found the resonant frequency of the room. Then when I hum, the sound comes from everywhere. No one can tell it's me."

She looked at him like he was crazy.

He couldn't stop chuckling, "Sorry. Just a band nerd after all."

"You have some of the strangest talents I have ever heard of." She stopped and knocked on a door.

A muffled voice from inside, "Come!"

Hermione opened the door to an office with a large desk and Professor McGonagall behind it. "Professor, we are here to find out Harry's accommodations for this evening."

She stood up and started for the door, "Very well. This way. Your room will be on the fifth floor, until – your status is resolved."

Hermione turned to Harry, "What is your status, Harry?"

"Well –". He huffed, "All this time I thought I was a US citizen, but – the US Dept of Magic guys said that I am officially a British citizen. But they have given me refugee status, for some reason. That evidently gives me permanent residency in the US and an easy path to citizenship if I want it. Some – special status or something."

Hermione looked concerned, "Do you want that? To be a US citizen?"

Harry was hesitant, "It's – what I am. I've lived there all my life. I am a product of that society." He tried out an accent, "I don't think I can do a British accent."

Hermione laughed, "Ah – no. Definitely not."

McGonagall stopped in front of a painting, "Mr Potter, you must claim your inheritance and heritage. I knew your parents well. They would want you to at least have that."

Harry's face flashed angry, "Don't! Every time you invoke my birth parents you push me into a box that you have created. A role, a set of expectations and a history that is not mine. I will not be pushed."

McGonagall looked fearful and spoke softly, "You are the last Potter. Your family goes back over one thousand years. You would throw all that away?"

"I will not be trapped in a box. I already have a life that I want to live. Goals, dreams, aspirations. No one has asked me about those. Nor has anyone even told me about the recent Potter family history. Or how I got over there. Or what happened to my birth parents. I haven't even seen a picture. Why should I do anything for you?"

McGonagall stiffened, "Then why are you here?"

"Because the Queen asked nicely. But the more I learn about everything here, the less I want to stay. Particularly because no one is being forthright with me. There are secrets here, that people are not telling me. I will not participate in that."

McGonagall looked guilty and nodded, "Very well. I will attempt to remedy that. We will talk more tomorrow." She left.

Hermione looked sadly at Harry, "I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Because you're right. They aren't telling you anything. I don't understand. I have always had a lot of respect for Professor Dumbledore, but he seems to be keeping things from you. And I don't understand why. Unless it's all a can of worms he was hoping he didn't have to open. And once opened, he can't stop where they all go."

Harry took a slow deep breath, "I'm not sure I understand either. It just gets my back up real bad. I have this almost allergic reaction to these secrets, these expectations – all of it. I just don't understand."

Hermione motioned to the painting, "Shall we?"

Harry looked between the painting and Hermione, "What?"

"Your quarters."

Harry pointed quizzically at the painting, "There? – In the painting? How?" He started looking closely at the painting and gingerly touching the surface.

Hermione glanced at the title plaque on the painting, "Sir Greaves, this is Harry – Forrester, who will be staying in your rooms. May we enter?"

Sir Greaves bowed, "Yes, Mistress. All Mr Forrester needs to do is choose a password." He looked to Harry.

Harry thought for a moment, "Blueshades."

Sir Greaves bowed again and the painting opened. Harry and Hermione walked through a tunnel in a meter thick stone wall into a sitting room.

"Blue shades? Harry, what are the significance of those?"

Harry smiled, "It is a fiendishly difficult piece for wind ensemble by a guy name Frank Tichelli. We played it this year. It was unbelievably fun."

She looked at him like he was from Mars.

Harry poked his head into the bedroom and came back out, "It'll do." He sat on the couch, Hermione took a chair.

"Harry, what have they told you about your time here?"

Harry frowned, "They want me to come back to England. To come to school here. But – I can't see it."

"You don't think learning magic would be fun?"

"Oh, sure. Great fun. But I got in a big argument with Dumbledore earlier. The problem is that magic is all you learn here. You get nothing that is useful in the normal world. You are then excluded from the normal world because you have no skills in it and, more importantly, no records of education to build on. You are stuck in this ghetto of magic. I want science, math, physics, engineering, and music. None of which are here."

Hermione was profoundly shaken, her mouth hung open.

Harry noticed, "What? What's wrong?"

"You just encapsulated – everything that's wrong with Hogwarts. And I didn't even see it. I was caught up in the excitement of magic – and I missed it. You're right. It's broken. And now I'm stuck here." She started to tear up.

"Is it really that bad?"

Hermione nodded through her tears, "I wanted the same things you did. To go to Uni, to study meaningful things, to make a mark on the world. But – I got caught by the excitement of magic. And – maybe I was a little disappointed in the normal world. But I didn't even think of it. Now I would have a very difficult time going back."

"Why do you say you were disappointed in the normal world?"

Hermione's face turned red, she turned her face away, "I didn't – I wasn't able to make any friends in school. I thought learning magic would help with that. A fresh start. But – it wasn't."

"Well, it did help."

Hermione took a deep breath struggling with her tears, "How?"

"You've made a friend now." Harry smiled at her.

She smiled back, "Thanks. But you're only here for a few weeks."

Harry's smile got bigger, "We'll see. But now, I'm about ready to snore up a storm."

She looked afraid, "You don't snore, do you?"

"No clue. But you might find out. And that would be heartbreaking." He raised the back of his wrist to his forehead dramatically and sighed loudly.

Hermione snickered, "Ok. I'll see you in the morning, Harry." She got up and headed toward the door, rather subdued.

"Yes, but wait!" Harry got up and caught up to her at the door. He clasped her hand, "Thank you, for helping me with all this. And – being willing to be a friend to this crazy music-obsessed American."

Hermione crushed him in a huge hug. She couldn't say any more so she fled out the door.

Hermione Granger

Hermione made it out of Harry's door and down the corridor about 4 metres before she leaned against the wall to collect herself. It took her a few moments to calm down. She didn't want anyone to see her crying, much less crying coming out of Harry's door. But after a big breath and wiping her eyes, she started down the corridor again.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione stopped suddenly. Dumbledore was standing at the stairwell, "Yes?"

"You seem to have developed a very good rap-our with Mr Potter."

She nodded, not wanting to risk speaking.

"I would like to ask you, as a favour to all the staff, that you continue to work with Mr Potter to help him adjust to the magical world."

She started to protest about her upcoming end-of-year exams, but he got there first.

"You will be excused from all classes and I will make sure you have an opportunity to take whatever exams you need, at your convenience this summer, if you will continue to work with Mr Potter for the rest of this term."

"I may not be able to convince him of anything."

Dumbledore looked – afraid, "That is not your concern, but mine. I would just like you to help him, however you can."

Hermione smiled, "Yes, Professor. I will do my best."

"Thank you, Miss Granger." He started down the stairs.

Hermione made a hasty retreat up to her dorm to recover. But the quiet didn't last. She entered the common room at a fast walk trying to get up to her dorm quietly. And she managed to make it half way up the first stairs when someone yelled her name and the entire female population of Gryffindor jumped up from the chairs and ran up the stairs after her, all laughing and giggling. She was not too proud to make a run for it and managed to make it onto her bed before her dorm was crushed with every girl in Gryffindor.

The noise of laughing and giggling was – embarrassing. Thankfully, the seventh-year girls Gryffindor Prefect, Samantha Cutting, whistled and forced a level of calm, "Ladies! Let's be calm, so we can all hear." She turned to Hermione. "We understand that you spent the entire evening with Mr Potter?"

Hermione nodded, rather intimidated.

"Would you care to tell us about your evening? And how he came to play such unbelievable music?"

The murmurs of ascent rose and wafted about before settling on Hermione. She was not happy about being involved in anything like gossip, but – "Well. I suppose what I can say is all the stuff that should be, or can be common knowledge about Harry. He goes by the name of Harry Forrester."

Mumbles that sounded like "Forrester" ran about.

"He was advanced a year in his primary. That means he just finished his equivalent of fourth year."

More murmurs.

"He has not attended any magical school, he attended muggle school."

Confused mumbles took the place of murmurs.

Samantha broke in, "What do you mean muggle school? How did he not go to magical school?" She managed to speak for everyone.

"No one could find him, evidently. He had never heard of magic until Saturday."

Confusion won this round and continued to press it's advantage.

Hermione started to say something, several times, until the noise subsided, "He said that a few days ago some officials from the US Magic Department came to talk to him and told him his birth name was Potter. That the Queen had asked nicely for his return. That magic was real. And that is about all they told him."

Now silence won, until, "That's dumb."

Hermione nodded, "Yes, but understand that no one here has told him any more either. He does not know anything about his recent family history, his personal history, his birth parents, he hasn't even seen any pictures of his parents, anything. He does not know how he got to America, or how he ended up rather seriously injured and bloody in A&E in hospital in Boston at one and a half years old. Or who brought him. Or why."

The shocked silence was deafening. Then the noise exploded and ran about for quite a while.

Until Hermione held up her hands for quiet, "His parents – the ones he lives with – his dad is an insurance agent during the day and a musician at night and his mother is a nurse. Harry is – very – involved in music at his school."

Samantha broke in again, "They have music in their schools?"

"Yes, a lot of it. And he is involved in just about every aspect of it."

The consensus of the noise was "How?"

"He said he played – let's see if I remember all he said – mellophone in marching band – that was the first horn he played at dinner, piano in choir and some sort of jazz band, plus he sings in the choir, plays vibraphone in some sort of percussion ensemble, trumpet in wind ensemble, and he said he plays in the pit orchestra for the musical theatre group where he played baritone, trumpet, and French horn."

The mumbled amazement lasted only a short while.

Hermione completed everyone's amazement, "From what I gather, he plays or practices about 20 hours per week outside of classes for almost the whole year."

"And he still has classes?" The seventh year was ahead of everyone else.

Hermione sighed, "Yes. He mentioned taking calculus, which is beyond Arithmancy. –"

Another seventh year broke in, "Is this some special school for music? Did they make him take that much?"

Hermione shook her head and smiled, "No, this is a normal school, he just loves music."

"Damn. I wish I could do that."

Hermione looked sadly concerned, "That is one of the things he talked about. That if all we study here is magic and nothing substantial about the rest of the world, then that traps us into only living in the magical world."

"Is that a problem?"

"If you know what's in the rest of the world, then yes it is. Understand that Muggle Studies here at Hogwarts is an embarrassing joke. It tells you nothing useful and a lot of wrong information."

After a moment of shocked silence, the seventh year spoke up, "Is he nice?"

Hermione nodded slowly with a wistful look, "Yes, he's considerate, charming, patient, funny! – Oh, he's so funny. – And his accent! It's so strange to hear that funny accent on him. But the biggest thing is, I am amazed at his musical talent. I studied piano for five years and Harry has been studying for six! Yet he plays so well and so many instruments."

A pause as that sunk in.

"Did you get to see his scar?" the girl drew a lightning bolt on her forehead.

Hermione looked distantly puzzled, "He doesn't have a scar."

More confused silence.

"Any brothers or sisters?"

Hermione shook her head, "I don't think so."

"Where does he live?"

Hermione had to think about that one, "Near Boston, somewhere."

"Where's that?"

Hermione smirked and shook her head, "The North East coast of the US."

"Where's that?"

Hermione huffed and raised her arm to point, looked up at the sky to get her bearings, then threw out her arm and pointed, "That way, about 5 thousand kilometres." Not that this helped in any rational way, but it shut down an inane question.

"Is he going to come back as a fourth year next year?"

Hermione stopped and thought, "I don't think he's going to come back."

Gasps. The seventh year dominated the group, "Why not?"

Hermione looked depressed, "He said he had a lot of plans and dreams that went a different direction than Hogwarts. He does not want to be only in the magical world and going to Hogwarts does not let you continue with a muggle education. I don't know if Professor Dumbledore will be able to convince him to come back next year."

That seventh year summed it up for everyone, "Well. On that depressing note, I'm off to bed."

The dorm slowly drained of all it's extra noisy inhabitants.

Harry Randall Forrester

Tuesday, 31 May, 1994

Harry was up and moving early in the morning. Jet-lag – port-key-lag? Magic-lag? – had his body-clock quite confused. His impatience, and hunger, drove him. He decided to wait for Hermione in the hallway. In case she forgot where his room was. Not that he could remember where it was. His mind wandered into dire imaginings where he took too many steps away from his room – and lost sight of his painting – and got lost – no one could find him – for days – as he called for help – and no one heard him – recreational panic began to set in – then, footsteps!

Harry turned at the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. A boy and a girl walked down the hall toward him. The girl was pretty; dark hair, dark eyes. The boy was elegant; long light-blond hair to his shoulders, grey eyes. Both in very fine robe-like clothes.

Harry smiled as they approached, "Good morning. I'm Harry." Harry extended his hand.

The boy reacted first, "Good morning, Mr Potter." He shook Harry's hand.

Harry laughed a bit, "Potter. The name catches me every time. I haven't adjusted to anything other than Harry Forrester."

The boy nodded in understanding, "Draco Malfoy. And this is Pansy Parkinson."

Harry extended his hand toward Pansy, who took it, "Good morning. That is a very interesting name, Draco. Is it traditional in your family?"

Draco was taken by Harry's warm open smile, "Yes, my family has given similar names for generations."

Harry smiled in amazement, "Really? Wow, a family with real history. I don't have a history and I don't have any friends who have any significant history either. It sounds fascinating."

Draco looked confused, "I don't understand. Your family goes back a thousand years."

Harry laughed, "Oh, you mean 'Potter'? Yeah, I guess. I have no idea. I'm just Harry Forrester. I guess that hasn't sunk in yet either."

Draco came back to his source of fascination, "Mr Potter –"

Harry laughed, "Call me Harry. Potter just doesn't get my attention yet."

Draco smiled, "Harry – I must say, I am fascinated by your music. I have never heard anything like it. How did you learn it?" The awe in Draco's voice was obvious, and endearing. It gave Harry a connection.

Harry smiled warmly, "I'm glad you like it. All those years of practicing have been worth it after all. It is truly a joy for me to be able to play. It is so – encompassing for me."

Draco and Pansy took a closer look at Harry.

Harry paused to gather his thoughts, "When I am playing, the music just – completely covers me. I am immersed in music. And, this last year, I have started to feel music even when I'm not playing. It is such a joy."

The effect of Harry's description on Draco and Pansy was profound. Draco asked, "How long have you been playing?"

Harry was still lost in his thoughts a bit, "About six years now. But that's a bit unfair to say that. My dad is a semi-professional musician and my mom used to sing in her church choir. She sings with dad's band once in a while too. My house has always been filled with music and musical people."

Draco was fascinated. This was so outside his experience. To grow up immersed in music. "It only took you six years to get that good?"

Harry chuckled, "Well – When I started playing I kind'a got hooked. I played a lot, every chance I could get. I take private lessons, too. When I got to high school, all this last year, I was playing at least 20 hours a week. That will do wonders for anyone's chops."

Draco was drawn in further, with a confused look, "Chops?"

Harry laughed, "Sorry, that's an expression of a level of musical skill. It came from brass players and the strength of their embouchure – their lips."

Draco smiled in amazement. An entirely new world he had never heard of before. "I have to ask –"

Harry smiled, "Go ahead, anything."

Draco continued thoughtfully, "I noticed a song you played yesterday. I remember I had heard it before on the WWN –"

Harry looked confused, "WWN?"

Draco was taken by surprise, "Ah – the Wizarding Wireless Network?" He looked to Pansy.

Pansy jumped in, "I think it's like the – radio?"

Harry laughed, "Ah, yes. Go ahead."

"I remembered the melody so I recognised it when you played it. But then you played more, that wasn't in what I heard on the WWN. A lot more. Is there more to that song?"

Harry smiled in understanding, "Ah, yes. The improvisation."

Both Draco and Pansy looked intently curious.

"In the style of music called jazz, the musicians usually start out with the song played normally – with the melody you'd recognise – but then they move to play the song again with the melody altered or a new melody – made up on the spot. It's called improvisation."

Draco's mouth started to drop.

Harry continued lost in thought, "We usually start to improvise around the existing melody – and then wander further afield into whatever we want, as long as it fits within the chord structure – which can wander off as well. It can be – absolutely amazing!" The awe in Harry's voice was contagious.

Draco was stuck in amazement.

Pansy brought him back, "You make all that up?! How?"

Harry laughed, "Yes. There is a form to it, but even that can get rather bent out of shape if we start wandering around. But – it's just such a blast!"

Draco and Pansy laughed at Harry's strange expressions.

Draco was starting to get excited, for the first time in years, "Are you going to play more?"

Harry smiled excitedly, "I have no idea what's going on. But I can't imagine not playing more. It's kind'a – bursting to get out."

Pansy put her hand on Harry's arm, "Well, I hope you do. I'd like to learn more about it."

Harry noticed Draco glancing down the hall and turned to see Hermione standing primly a ways down the hall in her robes. He beckoned her over.

Hermione moved reluctantly while Harry continued his explanation, "I'd like to play more. If I do get the chance to play more I'll include some explanations of what I'm doing."

Harry noticed Hermione's reticence as she stopped a few paces away. He reached out to her, pulling her in to a one-armed hug, "Hermione, what's wrong?"

She looked quite stiffly at Draco, "I didn't want to interrupt."

Harry looked back and forth between Draco and Hermione noticing Draco and Pansy's matching stiffness, "Is there something wrong?"

Draco looked sadly conflicted but said nothing.

Pansy had a curious look toward Hermione.

Harry continued looking back and forth, "Ok, what's up guys?"

Hermione demurred, "It's not my place to say." She began to walk past.

Harry pulled on her hand to stop her, "Wait, what does that mean?"

Hermione's eyes did not move from Draco, "Mr Malfoy and I do not agree."

Harry looked to Draco and waited.

Draco struggled with an answer, "My family has traditionally had difficulties with ..." He faltered to a stop.

Harry took a deep breath, "You know – my mother – in Boston – is black." He looked back and forth between Draco and Hermione, "She has had to deal with more bigotry than anyone should have to. That's what this sounds like. Is it?"

Draco looked sadly at Harry, but was trying to hide it.

Hermione said nothing, looking intently at Draco.

Draco nodded slowly, "I – your music – both of you – has affected me profoundly." Draco shook his head slowly, "It has shaken my – assumptions. My beliefs. I have never heard anything like it. And, as you were just describing it to me, I can see it is even deeper than I thought. I see – magic in it. Running through it. I can feel it. It pulls at me. – That should not be. It does not fit with my – my views. But it is too – profound to ignore. I must know more. Please – will you show me?"

Harry looked concerned, "Yes. I will. But I don't understand. What is this bigotry?"

Draco looked down with a bit of shame.

Hermione answered gently, "The magical world is divided based on the purity of magical blood. Mr. Malfoy's family is a pure-blooded magical family for generations. My family has had no history of magical blood, at all. Your family, Harry, was half magically pure. Your birth-father came from a very long line of pure blood but your birth-mother had no history of magic in her family. And – those with no magic are – considered little better than animals in some circles."

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly, thoughtfully.

Draco looked at Harry and Hermione quite conflicted, "I have never heard – felt – anything like your music. I need to know why. Will you show me?"

Harry looked to Hermione, who did not look convinced.

She said quietly but intensely, "Magic is magic. How can my magic be any less valid than yours? It functions the same, with the same results as yours. How can it be less? How can I be less? Particularly since my marks are the top in the school?"

Draco looked pained, "I do not know."

Harry broke in, "Can we declare a truce while the question is discussed?"

Draco reluctantly nodded.

Hermione squeezed her eyes closed and swallowed hard. She nodded shortly.

Harry smiled and pulled on their arms moving down the hall, "Good. Then let's go find some breakfast while we learn." Harry spoke to Draco as they walked, "I need to let you know that all the musical styles and skills that I know were developed by non-magical people."

Hermione shook her head, "Harry, you don't know that. Many of the artists could have been magical and you wouldn't know."

Harry nodded with a smile, "Yes, I suppose you're right, but I'm pretty sure I was the only magical person in my normal school and I was, by no means, the best musician in my school."

Draco looked surprised, "Really? How many people studied music in your school?"

Harry thought for a moment, "My school had about 1700 students and about 300 were involved in the music program to some degree."

Pansy asked from beside Draco, "To some degree? I don't understand."

Harry was so excited, "We have about 10 to 12 performing groups in the music department. Marching band, concert band, symphonic band, wind ensemble, winter percussion, winter guard, two jazz bands, a number of small jazz ensembles, several vocal groups, and – more. A lot of people are in several groups at the same time, some in only one or two. All groups are voluntary and open to all, except the top performing groups like wind ensemble, and winter percussion; those are audition only groups."

Now Hermione was bursting with questions, "What do they all do?"

Harry was smiling like a loon, "They all have competitions of some sort, and concerts they give. Some for parents and some around town, for the community."

Draco looked sceptical.

Hermione was incredulous, "Competitions? You mean like the solo recitals my parents wanted me to do when I was taking piano lessons?"

Harry was still smiling, "Yes. It really focusses everyone's learning. My wind ensemble is one of the top 20 groups in the state. The winter percussion group went to world championships two months ago and we came in at 14th place. That was awesome! Just unbelievable!"

Draco was unconvinced, "14th place? Isn't that rather low?"

Harry was still smiling up a storm, "Just making it into the finals competition, into the top 15 groups, is a huge achievement. There were about 200 other groups from all over the US who entered into this competition, and a few international."

Hermione just stared at Harry, "How do you compete against 200 groups? Does it take all month?"

Harry laughed, "It's about 3 days worth of competitions. There are a number of categories so not everyone competed directly against everyone else. There were about 30 groups who were brave enough and good enough to try performing in the Scholastic World Class competition level, the top level for schools."

Hermione was on a roll, "How big are these groups?"

Harry thought for a moment, "Anywhere from 20 to 40 or sometimes 50 students in each group."

Hermione looked very confused, "What do they all do?"

Harry laughed, "Well, there are basically two halves to the ensemble. You have the melodic percussion; marimbas, xylophones, vibes, bells, chimes, pianos – maybe a drum set – like what Seamus played last night. Then you have the drum line. A bunch of snare drums, five or six bass drums in a range of sizes and tones, then maybe two to five tenor drums players." Harry looked at all three of them gauging their understanding. "The tenor drums – well, all of the drum line, really – they wear this harness over their shoulders that holds the drums so they can move. The tenor drums are six drums in a range of sizes and tones on the harness." He held out his hands miming the drums horizontal placement, like a table. "Then you have a number of cymbal players."

Hermione couldn't understand all that, "But why – I don't understand."

Harry smiled, trying not to laugh, "What I haven't said yet is that the group performs on a basketball court-sized space, indoors. The melodic percussion is set up on the side and the drum line dances while playing the music."

Hermione just stared in utter bewilderment.

Harry just kept chuckling, "The performance is supposed to tell a story. And be damn difficult to do so they play ridiculously difficult music while dancing in a precisely choreographed piece." Harry burst out laughing at the looks on their faces.

They stepped into the Great Hall and all sat down at a large round table set off to one side of the hall near his piano. Food appeared and everyone started in, except Harry. Harry took a moment to take in his amazement.

Hermione just kept looking at Harry, "So what music do they play? Everyone plays the same piece?"

"Oh, no. Every group has music and choreography custom written for them every year."

Hermione shook her head in amazement, "Every year?"

"Yes. The really good groups, like ours, tailor the music to the strengths of the specific students in each position. That way they can write the music for each student to be just beyond their reach and push the students to really crank up their skill level." Harry chuckled, "The amazing thing is that if you master your part too quickly they will re-write your music half-way through the season to be more difficult."

Hermione just stared at Harry in amazement. She started to tear up, "What the bloody hell am I doing here? Stuck in Hogwarts while the world passes me by! I want what you have! I don't want to be stuck in a magical ghetto. I want to learn! Everything!"

Harry spoke calmly, "That's what my instructors say. At our age our brains are wired to learn very easily. So we need to take advantage of that and learn everything we can, as fast as we can. It will only get harder to learn as we get older."

Hermione dropped her head in her hands, sniffling, trying to calm down.

Draco and Pansy were staring at Harry and Hermione in shock.

Hermione shook her head, "I've lost three years. I'm already so behind. I'll never catch up."

Harry put his hand on her shoulder, "Sure you will. I never played vibes before this year. 20 hours a week practice will make you a damn good player in one season if you dive into it."

"But I don't have any seasons! Like you said, Hogwarts has no music, no science, no physics, no engineering, no medicine. Magic is great but it is not everything! The Statute of Secrecy is magic's worst enemy. Magic could change the world but it has to stay secret! What a waste!"

Draco looked concerned, "The Statute of Secrecy is there for good reason."

Hermione jumped on him, "No, not any more. Muggles would love magic because it can solve problems much easier than they currently can. The Statute of Secrecy is outdated and not necessary."

Draco was starting to get upset, "But in Muggle Studies –"

Hermione jumped in, "Ha! Muggle Studies is worse than useless, it's wrong! It only talks about what magic can do that muggles can't. It doesn't mention all the things that muggles can do that magic can't."

Draco and Pansy sat back stunned. Draco took the bait, "Like what?"

Hermione pounced, "There are two aspects to this. One is the kind of things magic can do and the other is the scale of what magic can do. As for the kinds of things magic can do, magic can't do anything even close to what a muggle computer can do. The storage, manipulation, and transmission of data that a muggle computer can do is their fundamental advantage over magic. Magic might actually be able to do something like a computer, but I've not heard of any wizard that has tried to do anything like that." She thought for a moment, "Actually, the Goblins might. We'd have to ask them."

Hermione shook her head to get it back on track, "As for the scale of what magic can do, magic can't move 30,000 tons of goods like the average container ship can. Magic can't even handle moving the 400 people and their luggage, all of which weighs 200 tons, across the Atlantic like a 747 airplane can. Unless you break it up into small groups for every portkey. And even with portkeys on small groups, it still can't handle the many thousands of people every hour that British Airways does. You'd need many hundreds of wizards to do that. The fundamental reality is that there is not enough magic or magical people in the world to take over everything that muggles and their machines do. Magic is a very specialised skill and a scarce resource. And – I guess that suggests that magical society can not grow beyond a certain size. Magic, because it is based on the power of one wizard, can not scale up. There is no additive capability for magic, and therefore, no leverage."

Draco and Pansy sat dumbfounded.

Hermione smiled at their discomfort, "I suppose we could test it. One wizard with a wand verses one muggle with a forklift and see who can lift more in a day."

Draco got a strange look and glanced around, "Where's Weasley? No one lifts a fork like he does."

Hermione and Pansy laughed, but for different reasons.

Hermione then became thoughtful, "I suppose it's not an appropriate competition."

Draco got a sly smile, "The muggle would lose?"

Hermione shook her head, "No, the wizard would lose, in the end. If you used your magic to lift heavy weights all the time you would become very good at it, but your magic would overspecialise and you'd lose the ability to conjure, do charms, and transfigurations."

Draco frowned. Pansy spoke up, "I think we need to go to class."

Hermione sighed heavily, shaking her head in her hands, trying to calm down.

Pansy and Draco left, fading in amongst the rest of the migrating herds of students.

Hermione looked to Harry, "Well, Harry. What would you like to do today?"

Harry looked at her curiously, "Don't you have to go to class too?"

Hermione smirked lightly, "Professor Dumbledore has allowed me to finish my classes and take my end of year tests at my discretion later in the summer if I stay with you and help you adjust to the magical world."

Harry's smile lit the room, "Excellent!" His eyes still sparkled as his smile faded into distant thought. Until they popped back to Hermione with a big smile, "How about we practice some music – because I'll probably go nuts if I don't – and then you can tell me about the business of learning magic. What do you think?"

Now Hermione's smile matched Harry's, "That would be wonderful."

Harry got up and started moving toward the piano motioning Hermione to come along, "Lets start with some music because that always settles my mood and gets my brain working correctly." He started running some scales but quickly settled into 'A Foggy Day' and started singing. "A foggy day, in London town."

Hermione stood next to the piano and smiled at his choice of song.

"Have you sang much before?"

Hermione shook her head mildly, and then started in some alarm as he continued to look at her, "Ah – no, I don't sing."

He just looked at her knowingly, then his face lit up, "Oh, I was going to show you this." He got up and pulled out his music books and found the right one. "Here, look at this." He sat down and they shared the bench as he put the book on the stand. It was open to 'A Foggy Day'. "This song is in the key of F major. And if you look here, in the third measure, there is a G minor chord, then a C dominant 7, then an F major. This is the foundation of all popular music."

Hermione's concentration soared. "Ohhh."

"The G minor chord is built on the second note in the F major scale, the C dominant 7 is built on the fifth note in the F major scale, and the F major chord is built on the first note of the F major scale. That is called a two-five-one progression. A minor two chord, followed by a five chord, which is always dominant – and dominant means that it's a major triad with a flatted 7th note – and that is followed by a major one chord."

"Oh – you have one here –" She pointed at the page, "And here – and another here."

"Exactly. Now, notice this one." He pointed to measure 10. "This is a C minor, F7, followed by a Bb major 7. What is that?"

Hermione's concentration was fierce, "That has a similar pattern – or shape?"

"Yes, that's a two-five-one in the key of Bb major."

Hermione's face lit up in wonder, "This song is full of two-five – wait, there's no 'one' there." She pointed at the page.

"Yes, there are some two-five progressions and some three-six-two-five-one progressions. There are also a two-five in one key followed by a two-five in another key, followed by a two-five in the next key, flowing around the circle of fifths. There are lots of possible progressions but two-five-one's are the backbone."

Hermione blinked at him, "I was wondering how you could get the level of complexity in most songs out of just two-five-one's."

Harry nodded with a big smile, "Now, an important thing about these two-five-one's is that all the chords are in one key. So this first sequence is three measures in the key of F major. For those three measures every note you play will be in the key of F major. The G minor chord means the notes of that chord will be more important, similarly with the C7 chord, and the F major, but there is still only one flat in the scale through all of it." Harry ran through the two-five-one chords, calling out their names, while running an F major scale over them all.

Hermione breathed wonder, "That's – brilliant."

Dumbledore and McGonagall were standing a distance behind Harry and Hermione in the doorway to the Great Hall, listening. Dumbledore sighed and spoke softly, "I am amazed, Minerva. Harry's magic is – infectious, it's compelling, it draws people. Everyone thinks Harry is merely charismatic because of it, but it is so much more. I noticed Mr Malfoy can feel it a bit, though he doesn't understand what he is feeling. And Miss Granger definitely feels it but hasn't figured it out yet."

Minerva's eyebrows rose, "Harry is the first person to truly challenger her, to cause her to grow, to take a risk."

"Yes, Harry's magic is changing her."

"But isn't his magic changing as well? His magic has certainly grown in it's intensity, in it's – focus? Since coming here?"

"Yes – yes, it has. He is responding to the magic around him. And I dare say, to the magic of Miss Granger."

Minerva turned to him, "You need to tell him. He knows you are keeping things from him. And he resents it."

Dumbledore pursed his lips, "Yes. Tomorrow. You saw how his magic responded to the discussion of the curriculum? I want him to relax and begin to enjoy his time here, first. Otherwise, I am afraid we may lose him."

Minerva took a nervous breath, "I need to start my class." She left.

Lunch time, and all the students flowing into the Great Hall, found Harry and Hermione deep in a discussion of musical theory sitting at the piano.

When the noise level finally reached a level to break into their concentration Hermione almost wilted, "Oh, am I ready for lunch." She got up and moved toward Harry's table.

Harry followed her, "Ah, but it's fun, yeah?"

Her eyes lit up, "My God, Harry. I have learned more this morning than I have in all the years of piano lessons I took. Absolutely thrilling."

Harry was smiling, "Well, you may not have heard that old joke about the jazz musician who uses three million chords and makes three bucks, and the country western musician who uses three chords but makes three million bucks."

Hermione laughed, "I have no idea. I've never heard country western music."

Harry feigned relief, "Ah! A pristine ear, not sullied by the inanity of country western music."

Hermione looked at him darkly.

Harry laughed, "Actually, I like some country western music. But that old joke is more of a truism. The interesting thing for me is that, with only three chords, the country guys can still make a good song. But instead of doing it with complex chords they use very expressive inflections on their tone. It's pretty amazing. I want to learn how to do that on my horns."

A boy approached the table standing behind Hermione. He was a little plump with dark hair. He looked unsure.

Hermione noticed Harry's attention and turned, "Neville! There you are. – Oh! Did I miss our study session yesterday?"

Neville smiled at her nervously, "Yes, but – I can see you were busy. I was just wondering ..." He faltered to a stop uncertainly.

Hermione covered his uncertainty and turned to Harry, "Harry, this is Neville Longbottom, Neville, this is Harry Forrester."

"Hi Neville! How are you?"

Neville looked surprised, if not quite shocked, then stood straight, "Mr Forrester, it's good to meet you." He bowed lightly.

Hermione turned to Harry, "Neville and I have been study partners for a long time."

Harry chuckled, "Oh, lucky guy. You must be a smart one to keep up with her."

Neville looked perpetually surprised, and chuckled nervously, "I can only keep up with her in herbology."

Hermione laughed, "Keep up? He's brilliant! He tutors me."

Neville blushed, "Well –"

Harry laughed, "Have a seat, Neville. It must be lunch time."

Neville now looked shocked and plopped down on the seat very surprised, "Ah - thank you."

Hermione turned to Neville, "How are you doing with transfigurations?"

He sighed heavily, "About the same. I haven't seen you in class."

Hermione nodded, "Yes, Dumbledore asked me to help Harry adjust to the magical world and in return I would be able to take my end of year tests sometime during the summer."

A quick wave of panic passed over his face, "Oh."

Harry noticed, "Neville, you should come in the afternoons, after your classes. That's when we were going to talk about magic and you can study too."

Amazement flooded Nevill's face, "Really?"

"You bet!" Harry looked at him, "Do you play any music?"

Neville looked shocked and held up his hands in fearful surrender, "Ah – The only way I can carry a tune is in a bucket."

Harry and Hermione laughed.

Draco stopped at the opposite side of the table from Harry.

Harry noticed first, "Hey, Draco. How's it going today?"

Draco looked a little confused at the familiarity but decided to go with it, "It is going well. I wanted to ask you a question about music, if you have some time?"

"Sure! Let's go take a look." Harry got up and they moved to the piano.

Neville sat stiffly next to Hermione, "What's happening there?"

Hermione turned to Neville with concern, "It seems that Mr Malfoy is quite taken by Harry's music. I can't decide if it's some sort of act or plot or if it's genuine. So far, it seems genuine and that the music seems to have affected him. He says Harry's music has challenged him and his – preconceptions."

Neville gave a long thoughtful gaze, "He does look different. He looks – younger."

Hermione turned to watch Harry and Draco poking keys on the piano, "Yes. More like a normal boy. And it's all Harry."

Neville turned to Hermione with a curious look.

"Harry is unbelievable. He is not – thrown off by any of this – stress. He just cuts right through it like it's not there."

"He hasn't been here, he probably doesn't even know it exists." A touch of bitterness in Neville's tone.

"Yes, he knows. He spotted it instantly, this morning." At Neville's curious look, she continued, "I went to his room to guide him to breakfast and he was talking to Draco and Pansy in the hall. I was – not the friendliest and Harry saw right through it all. He even baldly called it bigotry and Draco stood there and took it. I'm amazed."

Neville thought for a bit and then smiled, "Are you teaching Harry a lot?"

Hermione huffed, "Teaching? No. He is teaching me! I have learned more, just this morning, about music than I did during the entire five years I took piano lessons."

Neville laughed, "Oh, that must be fun. And – ironic?"

Hermione laughed, "Yes. I'm not used to it, that's for sure." She put her hands on top of her head with a tired look, "I think my brain hurts."

Neville laughed, "I'm glad. You needed some fun around here."

She gave him a dark look, "Fun? I think the word you're thinking of is 'retribution'?"

He broke out in laughter.

Harry sat down at the table, "Gee, I leave you guys alone for a second and you just start laughing." His smile was contagious.

Hermione asked, "What did Draco want?"

Harry smiled, "He actually found a book in the library about music and was reading it. It was based on classical theory so I was adding to his – confusion."

Neville nodded, "It must be very complex."

Harry shrugged with a smirk, "Eh – you screw your head on sideways and it all makes perfect sense."

Hermione shook her head slowly with a knowing smile.

Neville laughed, "Sounds like potions."

At Harry's confused look, Hermione answered, "Neville is brilliant with plants and – struggles mightily with potions. Though most of that is just that Professor Snape makes life hard for him."

Neville shook his head, "He looks at me and I can't do anything."

Harry nodded knowingly, "Can I give you a suggestion?"

Neville nodded eagerly, "Anything!"

Harry's smile turned mischievous, he leaned in and spoke secretively, "The next time you are working on a potion, stop, and look at it and imagine it was a plant and you had to care for it exactly right."

Neville's face exploded in amazement and a gasp, "Gods! That's brilliant!" He just sat there, his eyes like saucers staring into space.

Hermione looked at Harry seriously, "That is brilliant, Harry. Where did you get that?"

Harry smiled contentedly, "One of my classes this year was a human psychology class. It was just an overview class, but it was still fascinating. They talked a bit about 'transference', where you can transfer confidence from one subject to another – and a lot of other not-so-good things, but confidence works too. It's what helped me pick up the vibes. It was not an easy transition for me at first."

Her curiosity was peaked, "Really? Why was the vibraphone so hard? Doesn't it have the same shape as a piano?"

"Yes, it looks like a piano, which is very deceptive. But the mechanics of it are so different than a piano. For example, when you are hitting a note the height of your mallet is directly related to the volume you get. A three-inch mallet hight is very soft, a six-inch mallet height is medium, and a nine inch mallet height is loud. And it gets very complex when you run up a scale while you are trying to crescendo. At the bottom of the run the music says you need to start with a three-inch mallet height and you gradually increase that to nine inches at the top. But as you increase the mallet height you also increase the travel time of the mallet. So in order not to slow down the run, to keep the notes in time, you need to increase your speed as you get louder. The net result is that you're trying to do a crescendo but it feels like you're doing an accelerando. It's very subtle, but if you get it wrong the judges can hear it a mile away."

Hermione laughed and shook her head, "That is amazing."

Lunch popped in on the table in front of those sitting down. A light cheer went up through the room, but the sound of conversation did not diminish.

Hermione turned to Harry, "I suppose that makes a big difference, playing for judges rather than the general public."

Harry smiled, "Oh, yes. Some of these judges are national level experts in their areas. When I was in middle school I would go to the high school percussion ensemble shows and – they were amazing! But I really didn't even know what I was listening to. Now that I have played at that level for a year, I have a completely different perspective. I can hear the mistakes like never before but I also know what skills are truly difficult and how much work it takes to get those things right."

Harry thought for a moment, "My dad explained it to some of the other parents like this. He said that we, meaning us kids, learn three things." He started counting off on his fingers, "One, we learn what excellence looks like; the fine details of what it takes to be truly excellent and not just sounding cool. Two, we learn what excellence costs us; we learn how much work, time, and focus it takes to reach that level of excellence. And three, we learn what excellence buys us; awards, respect, a return on the investment of all that work."

Hermione smiled, "You said your dad explained that to other parents? I don't understand. What were they doing? Giving a demonstration?"

Harry nodded, "Yea, during one of the performances we gave for the parents. You see, most schools don't have the money to run these kinds of programs so they need a whole organisation of parents to help. Money, logistics, volunteers, food. A winter percussion group can cost $50k for a normal season for 25 kids. And if you want to go to world championships that's another $50k. Marching band costs about $600 per student for the season. With 150 students that's almost $100k. We had a really big group of parents who helped raise money for all these programs, and they worked real hard to keep the costs down. I think my dad said they raised between $200k and $250k each year for all these music programs."

Hermione's jaw was starting to droop, "Why does it cost so much?"

"In winter percussion, or marching band for that matter, a five-octave marimba is four feet wide, eight feet long, over three feet tall, weighs 100 pounds, and costs about $6k. We have five of those. Four vibes, a xylophone, a sound system, two electronic pianos, a giant bass drum and a set of chimes that are almost six feet tall, not to mention all the drum line stuff or any props – it's just a huge amount of gear to move to all the competitions. They pay the eight instructional staff a total of $30k for each season. Those are our world-class experts who train us how to play and write the music and choreography for us. The parent organisation bought a 48 foot semi trailer to carry all the gear to all our competitions. Just loading that thing is crazy! Then, to get to World Championships, there's renting a truck to pull the trailer and paying a professional driver to get all that gear to Dayton, Ohio and back. That's $10k all by itself. Then 45 plane tickets to Dayton for the students, staff, and chaperones. Four days worth of about 15 hotel rooms. A huge amount of food. It adds up real quick."

Hermione was a study in incredulity, "Why?! What do you get out of this that's worth that much?"

Harry smiled with a distant look, "It's the reason I get up in the morning. It's the reason I go to school. It's what drives me to get every inch of my homework done in class before I go to practice. It's the reason I get straight A's. It's what drives me. It's what I live for! – I play in one of the best groups in the world! Taught by some of the best instructors in the world. It gives me meaning. – It's changed my life."

Hermione's eyes lit up as she caught it, "Yes. I understand." She drifted off for a few moments, "Now what the bloody hell am I going to do?"

Harry choked on his drink. Neville dropped his fork.

She looked at him seriously, "I want that. And none of that is here. What am I going to do?"

Harry smirked and answered flippantly, "You could come back with me."

Harry didn't see the wheels begin to turn in Hermione's head. She just stared at him with such intensity.

After a moment Harry turned to Neville, "So, Neville. You understand what I'm suggesting about potions? And that you can use that same trick for every other subject you have?"

Neville started to look a little unsure, "Well, yes. I can see potions, but – how would I apply that to charms?"

"It's not the image of a plant you are applying to charms, it's the confidence you have in your plants that you're applying to charms."

Neville looked confused.

"Look, you are brilliant at herbology, right?"

Neville nodded with no insecurity or boasting.

"And that must be a very difficult subject in order to challenge Hermione, here."

Neville glanced to Hermione and nodded.

"So that proves you are brilliant. That means you can be brilliant in any other subject you want. You have the intelligence, jut apply it to every other subject."

"But ..." Neville started looking unsure.

Harry gave him a serious look, "But – you've never experienced that before?"

Neville shook his head.

"That is a road block that someone put in your way. They told you you can't do this, they made you think it was a real road block. And because you think it's real, you let it happen. Neville, I don't know where that road block came from, but it's a lie. You are brilliant with plants, therefore that proves you can be brilliant in any other subject you want."

Neville sat, wide-eyed.

"Every time you think you can't do something, just remember your plants. They prove you can do it."

Neville looked hollow and spoke quietly, "But I don't have any magic. I'm just a squib."

Hermione broke in at Harry's confused look, "A squib is a person born to a magical family that has no magic." She turned to Neville, "If you were a squib they would not let you into this school. You have magic."

Harry smiled, "Did you ever hear about how the circus trains elephants?" Neville shook his head so Harry continued, "When they first capture an elephant they wrap a huge chain around it's back foot and tie it to a giant spike stuck in the ground. It spends a week trying to get away. Eventually it gives up. Then they never need to use a giant chain again, they just use a little rope around it's back foot. The elephant feels the rope and thinks it's a huge chain, so it doesn't bother to try even though it could easily break that little rope at any time."

A small smile began to slowly grow on Neville. The noise of migrating students distracted him. He looked around and got up, "I think I need to go to class. Thanks, Harry."

Hermione watched Neville go, "How do you do that, Harry?"

"Do what?"

Hermione looked at him, "You just challenged – and changed his perspective on his entire life. How did you do that?"

Harry took a deep breath, "I have been challenged to play some of the most difficult music in the world. Sure, it may be only difficult for my age group, but still, it's ridiculously difficult music. I have been taught by some world-class experts. I know what it looks like, I know what it costs me, and I know what it buys me. And I've succeeded! I know he can too."

"So, you think the key is excellent instruction?"

"Well, yes – but define 'excellent instruction'; that's non-trivial. I am incredibly motivated by my music programs. They are the key to everything else I do. For me they provide the template that I apply to all my other subjects. I'm sitting in psychology class cranking out my calculus homework so I can get it done before practice. I'm in calculus doing my english homework while taking notes on calculus. It's the only way I can do all the things I want to do – and I absolutely love it! And I still get straight A's! I have never worked so hard in my entire life as I did this year. And I have never had more fun in my life than I did this year. And I want to do it all again next year. I can hardly wait. I think – it's the significance of what I'm doing. World-class competitions. Challenges that mean something. And I am surrounded by a lot of other really good students."

Hermione was about to burn a hole through him as she thought deeply.

Dumbledore and McGonagall were standing in the doorway to the Great Hall, listening unobtrusively.

McGonagall shook her head, "He is immensely inspiring."

Dumbledore let out a slow breath, "And his magic has just set Miss Granger on fire. He has taken our best student and turned her into a fire breathing dragon. I think we are very lucky that she is not attending classes right now. She would tear us to bits."

McGonagall looked sternly at him, "Maybe this would be a good thing?"

Albus conceded the point, "Yes, but do you know how many teachers she would filet in the process? We have some of the best teachers in each subject that I could find but they are still not good enough. A number of our teachers are substandard because the wizarding world is substandard. I have been trying to fix that for decades and I haven't made any significant progress."

McGonagall looked at him with deep concern for a moment, "I must start my class." She left.

Harry smiled at Hermione, "So, tell me about Hogwarts. About magical education. How does it work?"

She huffed in frustration, "It doesn't."

Harry chuckled, "It can't be that bad."

She started ticking off on her fingers, "They have almost no scientific method, their educational system is still stuck partway into the Guild System with apprenticeships to secretive 'Masters', they have no organised research universities. The most damaging is actually the Guild System where different 'Masters' hoard their knowledge instead of publishing anything."

"You have apprenticeships? Here?"

She shook her head, "No. Hogwarts is actually more progressive and open, but it's curriculum only goes so far. Beyond that you are stuck with apprenticeships to 'Masters'. Well – I think medical knowledge is more open but the learning is still based on apprenticeships so there's no recognised curriculum or guarantee you don't end up with big holes in your knowledge."

"Ok – but no scientific method? Really?"

"There is so much about magic that no one knows and no one is researching in any organised way. It's just a few amateurs poking around for the fun of it."

Harry thought for a moment, "Ok. But I look around this castle and I see some very sophisticated magic – or, I guess I should say it's amazingly imaginative. I guess I don't know enough about magic to say if it's sophisticated or not. But it looks very well developed. It has a lot of complexity."

"Yes, magic is very old. Magical culture is as old as humanity so it has had time to develop a lot of complexity. But magical education is only now breaking away from the Guild System." Hermione took a moment to gather her thoughts, "I think the lack of any organised research process into magic affects even the education here. Because no one has looked into the fundamental bits of magic, that leaves education at this level very much by wrote."

"I guess I don't understand."

She nodded, struggling with her ideas, "Magic, at it's most fundamental, is based on 'intent and will'. The intent and the will of the magic user shapes and directs magic – whatever it actually is – into action. But magical education needs to start at the age of 11 because of the development of a person's magical capability. Any earlier and there is not enough control, any later and it becomes much harder to get control. The difficulty is that 11 year olds have very limited capacity toward controlling their intent and will."

Harry laughed, "Yea, not much self-control there."

"They started out by creating 'spell words' and 'wand motions' that are linked to specific functions. These are training aids to help define, shape, and train a person's intent, to give their will a channel to act. The problem is that these training aids have become too successful and have stuck. Now the spell words and the wand motions are the magic. There is now no room for intent. There is only the defined dictionary of spell words. I guess it's like the industrialisation of magic."

Harry was frozen in deep thought, "Huh. Has anyone tried to measure what's happening? To apply some physics to magic?"

"That is a big problem. Electricity is disrupted by magic. So no technology works in the presence of magic."

Harry sat up, "So if there is an interaction that means there is a relationship. Magic is somehow related to electricity."

Hermione chuckled, "Yes, but no one in the magical world knows enough about technology to even think about that possibility. You are either in one world or the other, not both. The irrational fear that is the Statute of Secrecy keeps them separate."

"Huh. Education creates culture and culture creates education." Harry fell silent, thinking, "So, tell me about the progression – the way a given subject progresses through the years. You start out with simple magic and progress to complex?"

"Yes, it's pretty straightforward. The problem is that this style of instruction is geared toward certain types of students and is not good for others. It's rather narrow."

"So – have you seen any limitations on what magic can and can't do?"

Hermione considered carefully, "Well, as I was saying to Draco at breakfast, there seems to be no additive capabilities with magic. You are limited to the power one wizard can generate. If you need more you can add more wizards, but it's linear. Now, that may be cultural, more than a limitation on magic. But I haven't seen any way to put several wizard's magic together into one giant spell, or amplify a spell."

Harry looked curious, "So, like non-magical people have machines to amplify their power – lifting or moving large objects – wizards don't?"

"Well, I guess they do, technically they have wands. A wand does increase the effectiveness of someone's magic. Whether that is amplification or merely focus, like a lens, I don't know."

"Hmm. An antenna with gain."

Hermione caught on that statement, "What's that?"

"If you have – say, a light bulb – it radiates light equally in all directions. That is an analogy of a perfect antenna. Then, if you put a reflector around it, like the focusing parabola around a flashlight – or, I guess you call it a torch – then you haven't increased the output of the lightbulb but you have focussed everything that is there, into a bright beam. That process is called 'gain' on an antenna. So, I guess you're saying that a wand is like a high gain antenna?"

Hermione laughed, "Yes, precisely. That's a great picture."

Harry scrunched his brows together in thought, "So, that was the scale business you were talking about earlier?"

"Yes, the other part is the things that magic can't do – or we don't know if magic can do them because I don't know if anyone has ever tried. Like trying to duplicate a computer. That is, I think, the biggest shortcoming in magic."

Harry nodded, "Yup. My teachers talked about computers as effectively being these intelligence enhancing machines that allow us to deal with huge amounts of complexity that we would never be able to otherwise."

Hermione's eyebrows rose in understanding, "Magic may have some capabilities that I just may not know about yet. For example, Hogwarts keeps lists of students and sends out registration letters seemingly somewhat automatically. But I don't know how they work."

Harry nodded slowly, then smiled, "So, how is life in Hogwarts? It is fun?"

Hermione shrugged, "It's ok. The bigotry gets real old, real fast."

Harry frowned, "And no one tries to stop it?"

"Only rarely. I think they want us to work it out amongst ourselves. Something about bullying being a normal part of life and we should learn to deal with it."

Harry barked, "Bah! Lord of the Flies! Let's put poison in the food to see if everyone develops an immunity to it. And we should beat our heads against the wall because it feels so good when we stop!"

Hermione burst out in laughter.

Harry developed a sly smile, "You know, lobotomies can reduce a lot of pain and can stop people from asking annoying questions. They're quite effective."

Hermione was still laughing, "Harry, stop that."

Harry looked sadly at her and spoke quietly, "Not many friends here?"

Hermione shook her head, "Just Neville."

"Aaaand?" He looked at her pointedly.

She chuckled, "Yes, and you."

He smiled as the doors to the Great Hall opened and a few students, including Neville, came in after the end of classes.

Neville had a huge smile as he headed for Harry's table.

Harry caught Neville's smile, "Hi Neville! You look excited. How'd it go?"

Neville smiled like there was no tomorrow, "Harry, you are a genius! I got today's transfiguration on the third try!"

Hermione gasped, "Yes! Neville, that's amazing!"

Neville sighed in satisfaction, "Who would have believed I could do that." He glanced at Harry, "Well, other than Harry." He sat down.

Harry tapped the table in front of Hermione and Neville, "How about, after dinner, you can give me a demonstration of magic. The FBI guys only gave me a little bit. How about some more? You can introduce me to the finer points?"

Hermione smiled and nodded.

Neville laughed, "I'll leave that up to Hermione."

Harry gave him a knowing look, "So, Neville, what was this transfiguration you did?"

"It was inanimate to inanimate but there was a significant size difference. Changing a small rock into a large chair."

Harry looked confused, "Wow. Sounds complex."

Hermione looked concerned, "That reminds me, Harry. The other problem that Hogwarts has is the belief that magical power is everything. Basically, might makes right and character means nothing."

Harry grimaced, "Ew. That's unbelievably broken. And, I take it, that leaks into the rest of society?"

Hermione nodded, "Or the rest of society leaks into here."

Harry made an unpleasant face.

The noise of gathering students increased in the Great Hall as dinner was about to be served. Students streamed in with hungry anticipation.

Harry watched as they flowed like a river. A girl stopped in the middle and the river flowed around her. Blond hair, big blue eyes, a serene innocent look, staring at Harry. The river flowed, she stepped through it, until she stood next to the table and Harry. Her eyes never left his, nor blinked.

Harry put out his hand, "Hello, I'm Harry."

Her eyes were big and took in everything, "Hello, I'm Luna." She shook his hand and sat down next to him, "Are you going to play more music tonight?"

Harry smiled, "I didn't have anything planned but I can probably cook something up."

"Thank you. The Nargles are gathering again. Your music keeps them away quite effectively." She stood up.

"Let me think of what I can play."

She nodded and walked into the flowing river of students and was swept away.

Harry got up and pulled out his trumpet and stood at the side of the door to the Great Hall and waited. He briefly held his trumpet above his head and caught Dumbledore's eye, who nodded once.

As the last few students came through the door and found their seats amongst the noise, Professor Dumbledore stood up at the head table, the room came to stillness waiting for him to speak. He gave a slight nod to Harry.

Harry turned the corner and disappeared into the Entry Hall. Harry shattered the silence with the first three notes from the iconic 'Fanfare For The Common Man' by Aaron Copeland. The sound, echoing in the distance and the stone halls, was full of majesty and power and swept everyone's attention into a new place. Harry's magic ripped through the room as the notes carried awe and reverence, sweeping away cares and concerns. He finished the first phrase powerfully on it's low notes.

He stepped into the middle of the doorway and faced into the Entry Hall, away from the Great Hall and the students, and started the second phrase with more power and more presence. His magic lifted everyone, stripped them of the day's worries, and showed them majesty as the sound filled the room, then the second phrase ended on similar low notes.

He turned around to face into the Great Hall and started the third phrase directly into the Great Hall, with more intensity, more presence, and more power. Everyone was moved, pulled, thrilled by Harry's magic. Tingles danced up people's spines as they were washed in Harry's magic. At the end of the third phrase the music normally went down three notes but Harry slowly went up three notes to a climax where he held the last note to an incredibly powerful finish. After he stopped, the sound of his trumpet could be heard echoing into the distance throughout the castle. Silence covered everyone. Harry's magic continued to echo around the room, pushing away stray thoughts.

Dumbledore's voice carried softly, "Harry, what was that music?"

"Fanfare For The Common Man by Aaron Copeland."

Dumbledore bowed, Harry's magic receded, and the room exploded with a roar. A standing ovation reflecting the power of Harry's music and magic. It was eventually interrupted by the food appearing on the tables and everyone sitting down.

Harry slowly walked back to his table, feeling very satisfied and settled. Hermione and Neville stared at him with wide, almost fearful eyes.

Hermione spoke first, "My God, Harry. That was unbelievable."

Harry gave a small shrug and a contented smile, "The power of music."

Hermione's brow drew together, her eyes narrowed on him, "That was more than mere music. That was your magic!"

Harry smiled tiredly and sat down, "I have no idea." He set his trumpet down gently and started in on his food.

Hermione continued to stare at him like an intricate puzzle.

Dumbledore sat down at the head table.

Minerva leaned over, "Gods, Albus. Even I could feel that magic. It swept me away."

Albus took a deep breath, "Unbelievable, Minerva. Just – unbelievable. Incredibly inspiring."

Minerva took a moment to gather her thoughts, and then another breath, "Albus, I had another amazing thing happen today."

His eyebrows rose.

"Neville Longbottom, in my third year transfigurations class, achieved the inanimate to inanimate with size transfiguration on his third try. I was – rather shocked. When I asked him how, he said Harry told him the secret. Did you happen to hear what Harry said?"

Albus nodded, "Harry told Neville that someone had told Neville a lie. The lie being that Neville would not be good at magic. But Harry said that because Neville was brilliant at herbology, that proved that he could be brilliant at any subject he wanted. And that every time he had difficulty with magic, to remember that his plants proved that he could be good at any subject. It was very inspiring."

Minerva gathered her thoughts, "Yes, I can see that is true – but, how did Harry know about this lie?"

Albus eyebrows rose, "I suspect Harry was guessing. I was paraphrasing some, but that was the gist of what he said. He mentioned something earlier in the morning, something about a concept called 'transference', I think he said. It had something to do with transferring confidence from one subject to the next. For example, from Mr Longbottom's confidence in herbology to potions. I do not believe Mr Longbottom has had potions yet so I am waiting to see the results of Harry's coaching in that area."

Minerva spoke strongly, "He is going to turn this school upside down."

Albus looked back with intensity, "The school? Or our entire world? I can feel it, Minerva, but I have no idea how. Or what it will mean."

Hermione was still looking at Harry speculatively when dinner ended.

A red-haired boy was standing at Harry's table when Harry looked up from his empty plate.

Harry put out his hand, "Hi, I'm Harry."

The red-head was caught staring and shook Harry's hand, "Oh – Ron Weasely. Do you play Quidditch?"

Hermione coughed with a disapproving look.

Harry looked puzzled for a moment, then smiled, "No, but I think if you hum a few bars I can fake it."

Mr Weasely looked deeply confused, and didn't seem to recover.

Hermione covered her mouth trying to stifle a laugh, then stood up, "Are you ready?"

Harry stood up, "Oh – yes, you were going to show me what this business is all about."

Harry, Hermione, and Neville moved up to a classroom on the third floor.

Harry wandered around the classroom looking at the architecture, "Wow. This is very cool. Is this still used?" He came back towards them and sat down in a desk.

Hermione shook her head, "No, the student population has shrunk in the last few years and this room is not used."

Harry nodded thoughtfully, "So – what can you show me?"

Hermione smiled, "Lets start with demonstrations of each type of magic. The basic categories are transfigurations, charms, conjurations, potions, magical creatures, herbology – which is the basis for potions, and few theory-based topics like Ancient Runes, Arithmancy and Divination. Astronomy is the only subject with any relation to the muggle world, but even that is rather peripheral. Oh – and the history of magic." She looked at Neville with a sly smile, "So, Neville, can you show us your transfiguration? This desk into a comfy chair?"

Neville looked at her with an 'I knew you were going to do that' look. He concentrated for a moment, moved his wand, mumbled a word, and the desk became a puffy blue high-backed chair, clawfoot legs, with a flower pattern. He had an amazed smile.

Harry got up and started touching the chair, "Whoa! That is cool! Does it stay this way forever?"

Hermione wobbled her head back and forth making an indistinct sound, "It can but that takes a lot of magic. Normally they just change back after a period of time and a lack of attention."

Harry chuckled, "Yea – what happens when you transfigure a bear trap into a chair and then it wants to change back? And someone is sitting in it?"

Neville looked squeamish.

Hermione looked scandalised, "Harry! That's –" She stopped and started staring off into the distance, "A very interesting question. If a wizard is sitting in the chair their magic will subconsciously maintain the transfiguration – even if they didn't perform the transfiguration. If a Muggle were sitting in the chair then, at some point, it will change back and the trap will spring on them. That is assuming that the process of transfiguration did not spring the trap to begin with."

Harry looked curious, "Muggle?"

Hermione sighed in exasperation, "It's a very old racial epithet that has been normalised and the meaning has softened – in some circles. It's used for non-magical people."

Harry got a dark look, "Like my parents."

Hermione nodded, "And mine."

Harry looked sympathetic and breathed, "Ok. Next subject?"

Hermione continued, "So you saw that desk transfigure into a comfy chair. But there was a difference in the amount of material involved. That was a complexity that Neville had to deal with in the transfiguration. That complexity stepped across a line into a certain amount of 'conjuration'. When he transformed that desk, he was also performing a conjuration of a certain amount of material to make up the deficit from the desk to the chair. Pure conjuration is this." She waved her wand and a white marble plinth with a flower-covered vase appeared out of nowhere.

Harry's breath caught, "Whoa!" He got up and walked around it, touching it.

Neville laughed and clapped, "Very nice!"

Harry bent down looking closely at the vase, "Where does the matter come from?"

Hermione huffed incredulous frustration, "No one has the slightest idea nor have they even tried to look."

Harry looked at her disbelievingly, "You've got to be kidding!"

Neville looked confused, "What's the problem? It's magic."

Harry smiled at Neville, "Science says that every question must have a verifiable answer, or your job isn't done. It's against the rules to just wave your hand and say 'magic did it'. That's not science."

Neville looked confused, "Why not? Magic does all kinds of stuff. We don't have to know why."

Harry nodded, "Yes – in a practical sense, yes. I don't have to be concerned with science while I'm eating lunch. But what if there was something pernicious buried deep down in magic that was dangerous to everyone. Something that would cause humanity great pain. Shouldn't we know about that? Try to figure it out rather than just blindly run into it after it's too late?"

Neville looked concerned, "Like what?"

Harry sighed, "Well, it's the same for science. In science there are subjects like nuclear weapons – a bomb that can destroy all of London and make it unliveable for hundreds of years. Or genetic engineering – changing or creating a life form. Or, one that is still quite a ways off, where scientists create artificial intelligence that is hundreds of times smarter than any one of us."

Neville looked confused, not knowing what most of those were, "Ok, what are you thinking about with magic?"

Harry shrugged, "I don't know –" Harry was struggling to gather his ideas, "– How about the process of – say, economic growth. In the non-magical world, people need to specialise their skills in their work and then work together in groups. Some people do accounting, some people do the manufacturing, some do the distribution, and all those things. But with magical people, with all that they can do, does anyone need to specialise? And If they don't need to specialise, do they need to work together? And if they don't, do they need to form any sort of community or organisation?"

Hermione's face was covered in wonder, "Oh, God. That's true. It's individualism gone mad."

Harry tilted his head, "Well – except maybe families. Because families are still made the same way." Harry smirked a bit.

Hermione nodded slowly and missed his comment, "Yes. So families become even more important because that's the primary structure and organisation for society. No wonder it practically feudal."

"So, what else is different about magical people?"

Hermione's eyebrows rose as she thought, "Well – magicals live longer than non-magicals. Usually by almost twice."

Harry grimaced, "Ouch. No wonder."

Hermione and Neville said, "What?"

"If magicals live longer then their society changes more than twice as slow."

Neville looked confused, "Why?"

Hermione just groaned and held her head in her hands, "Yes. It changes slower because the older people are alive longer, in control longer, and stop change until the next generation takes over, which is much later than in the non-wizarding world."

Neville's eyes grew large, "Oh."

Harry thought deeper, "So, I suppose that means that the non-magical world is – a bit more fragile? Because non-magical lives are shorter some event could disrupt societal structures easier. Except that the propensity to form groups in the non-magical world would probably compensate for that. Well – I supposed the balance is that non-magical society would then be more adaptable than magical society."

Hermione shook her head, "I don't know how you would measure for something like that."

Harry pursed his lips, "Hhmm. Ok, so what's the next subject?"

"Next would be charms. Charms add magical capabilities to objects. To make something almost invisible, to silence something, to change it's colour, to change something's appearance, to give something autonomous actions, things like that." She stood up and applied a disillusionment charm on herself and almost disappeared.

Harry's eyes almost fell out, "WHOA! That is so cool!"

Hermione's voice came from empty space, "If I stand very still I'm very difficult to see, but if I move there are tell-tale signs that give me away." She moved a metre and distortion around her movement could be seen. Then she cancelled the charm and reappeared.

Harry grew very quiet while he was thinking, "Ok. Which of those subjects is larger?"

Hermione thought, "Larger in which way? In terms of the number of magical expressions? Or the amount of magic used? Or popularity? Or frequency of daily use?"

Harry looked thoughtful, "Any way you want to count it."

Hermione sunk deep into thought and started pacing.

Harry turned to Neville, "What do you think, Neville?"

Neville didn't need to think very long, "I would have to say that the subject of charms has the most different applications and is the most commonly used. Almost all household magic is charms of one sort or another."

Hermione came out of her thoughts, "Yes, I agree. The ability to add magical functionality to an object is hugely useful. Understand that a close second is potions, because a potion stores magical capabilities in a liquid form."

Harry's eyebrows rose, "Really? So, is potions just a storage capability or are there things you can do with potions that you can't do in any other way?"

Hermione smiled, "Oooh, That's a hard question." She started pacing again, "I think there are things that I don't know you can do any other way. Like Veritasserum."

Harry gave her a gimlet eye, "What's that?"

"It's a truth serum. I don't know of any spells that will induce anyone to tell the truth like Veritasserum will."

Harry sat back in shock, "You're kidding! There is magic that overrides people's will?"

Neville laughed.

Hermione nodded grimly, "Override their will, modify their memories, change their personalities – just about anything you want."

Harry's mouth dropped, "God, that's evil!"

Hermione nodded quietly, "A balance to that is magical healing. There is almost nothing that can't be healed."

Harry shook his head slowly, "Huh. A society of high contrasts."

Hermione looked at her watch, "We don't have much time before curfew. We should start back."

Neville stifled a yawn, "Yes. I'll see you in the morning." He got up and left with a slight smile hidden as he moved out the door, and a surreptitious glance back at Harry and Hermione.

Harry watched the door close, "Can you show me back to my room? I can't seem to keep up from down in this castle."

Hermione smiled, "Yes. It took me a number of weeks before I stopped getting lost." They started out the door.

Harry glanced at Hermione, "So your parents aren't magical?"

Hermione shook her head a bit sadly.

"How do they handle all this?" He waved his hand around the hall.

Hermione thought quietly for a moment, "I think they are rather concerned. They don't have much access or understanding of where I am and what I do. That puts a big wedge between us. I think they are excited, too. Magic is so unusual. But it is becoming a barrier between us."

Harry looked concerned, "What do they do?"

Hermione smiled, "They are dentists. They own their own practice, which keeps them very busy. And they are both very studious, which is where I get it."

"And you live here – what, nine months of the year? Is that hard?"

Hermione nodded slowly and sadly. "Yes. I miss them terribly. But there is nothing to be done." She shrugged. "At least we still have the summers together."

Harry smiled, "What do you do during the summers?"

"We usually go to France during August." She stopped in front of his door.

Harry smiled, "Ever been to Boston?"

She shook her head, "No. Never been to the US. I don't think they've ever looked at going to the US. We don't have any experience with going there."

Harry smiled even more, "You can always stay with us. We have a spare room. You can rent a car and go anywhere you want. And I can show you around."

Hermione had a flash of hope, but then settled, "I can't drive, Harry –"

"Bring your parents!"

Hermione's expression caught in confusion for a moment, "But didn't you have plans?"

Harry laughed, "Yes, I have a summer job lined up, but I have an in with the boss! I'm sure we can make arrangements."

She was very confused, "A summer job? You'll be busy."

Harry nodded indulgently, "Ah, but remember? I'm working for my dad, playing in his band several nights a week. He can easily do without me a few days here and there."

Hermione's eyes grew wide, "Oh yes – but ... You should ask them first."

Harry smiled, "Yes, as soon as I get back to civilisation." He started glancing around, "No phones, here, right?"

She shook her head. After a moment she sighed contentedly, or resignedly, Harry couldn't tell. She smiled, "I'll let my parents know of your offer."

"Thank you." Harry glanced around the hall, "You'll come rescue me in the morning? I wouldn't dare try it on my own." Harry was still looking around and sounding dramatically distraught. "I could get lost. I'd wander aimlessly for days. No one would find me for weeks. I'd starve! – or something."

Hermione smirked, "Definitely. You already look like you need rescuing."

"Do I?" Harry already sounded a strange combination of desperate, pitiful, and hopeful. "I'm trying."

Hermione laughed and shook her head, "Oh yes, you are definitely trying, at times."

Harry sighed dramatically, "Thank you. I feel better already."

She shook her head with an exasperated smile, "Good night, Harry."

Harry's smile was huge, "Good night, Hermione."

Hermione Granger

This time, when Hermione entered her dorm room, she was only followed by a third of the girls in Gryffindor. The fan club had been dwindling as the days had gone by. The questions started before she even sat down.

Parvati asked, "So, what new revelation did Harry give you today?"

Hermione was feeling a little short so she decided to poke them, "Harry has come to the realisation that the reason that wizarding society changes so slowly is that wizards live much longer than non-magical people live."

Parvati looked at Hermione like she had lost some critical component in her head, "This is something he thinks about a lot, is it?"

Hermione shook her head and smirked, "No, I was just complaining about the wizarding world and Harry put 2 and 2 together."

Lavender jumped in, "He heard 2 and 2 and came up with 8?" She sighed, "He's sooo smart."

Hermione covered her face and decided she needed to cut this off as soon as possible, before she started screaming.

Harry Randall Forrester

Wednesday, 1 June, 1994

Harry was waiting outside his door, wearing jeans and one of his nicer shirts. He was early – even by marching band standards he was early. Marching band's rules of 'early is on time, on time is late, and late is dead' were thoroughly ingrained in him now. It didn't matter, he was so excited he could hardly wait. What if Hermione did want to come to Boston and visit him? What could they do? Go to downtown Boston. New York. His grandparents house in Vermont. Just thinking about it was exciting to him. He could show her around MIT and –.

"Good morning, Harry."

Harry looked up with a big smile, "Good morning. Sleep well?" They started moving toward the Great Hall.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Well, eventually. Once the Spanish Inquisition let me get to sleep."

Harry looked at her like she had slipped a few gears, "John Cleese teaches here?"

She laughed, "No." She looked at him gauging how he will take her story, "Can I tell you the truth?"

Harry's eyes started to get big, "Oh, no. What happened?"

"Promise you won't be angry?"

He swallowed hard.

"It's really rather cute, in a very bizarre sort of way."

His eyes got even bigger, "Uh – ok. I promise."

She sighed heavily, "Ever since the first night you got here, I have been besieged every night in my dorm by just about every other girl in Gryffindor House asking questions about you."

Harry almost collapsed against the wall covering his face, "Oh God! What am I going to do?" Then he stood up with panic in his eyes, "What questions are they asking?"

"Well –"

"No! Wait, don't tell me. In this case – ignorance really is bliss. I'd rather not know."

She laughed, "That's probably a wise idea."

"But has that been difficult for you?"

She chuckled, "Well, I'm definitely not used to the attention. I've never been one of the popular people."

He looked at her curiously, "Really? I would have thought –"

She laughed, "Ha! No, sorry. Definitely an introvert, here."

They sat down at Harry's table and breakfast popped into place.

Neville sat down next to Hermione, "Good morning."

Harry lit up, "Hey, Neville. How's things?"

Neville stopped abruptly and thought, "The same. It's too early for anything to have changed since last night." He turned to his food.

Harry smirked, "Ah, a literalist."

Neville stopped and looked at Harry quizzically, then a smile crept in, "I think the word your looking for is 'illiterati', yes?"

Harry smiled, "We'll definitely go for that."

Neville looked at Harry with curious look, "It never ceases to amaze me how you string words together so – randomly. It still manages to make sense, but it's – so strange."

Harry laughed, "Yes, I know what you mean. When I listen to you talk it's not so much that the word order sounds strange but your diction is very different. It's like you have a different dictionary that you work from. I really enjoy it. It makes me think in different ways."

Hermione smiled at Harry, "I always have to think twice if what you're saying is actually english or not."

Harry laughed, "Naw, can't be. Some guttural savage tongue spoken by uncouth low-lifes. It definitely doesn't sound as good as yours!"

Hermione jumped in, "Well, hold on. Go to East London and none of us will understand anything."

Neville glanced surreptitiously up at the head table, "If you can get McGonagall stressed she breaks out into a Scottish brogue almost as bad as Hagrid."

Hermione laughed as Harry looked around for McGonagall.

After a moment Harry gave up looking and said, "There are parts of Boston where I can't understand anything either."

The trickle of students started to become a flood as students started wandering toward their morning classes.

Neville sighed, "Well, that's my signal. It's time." He got up, ready to be swept up in the flood.

Harry smiled at him, "Remember, Neville – plants!"

Neville broke out in a huge grin and nodded as he submerged into the flood and was carried away.

Hermione turned to Harry, "So what's your plan for this morning?"

Harry smiled at her like he had just swallowed a canary, "It's time to learn how to sing!"

"Oh, no, no, no. That would not be good."

Harry gasped dramatically, "What? You don't trust me?"

"Ah – no. Not with this. I'm not interested in making a fool of myself."

Harry chuckled, "Do you think I sounded any better than a run-over frog last year? And now I sound ok. Right?"

"Ok? A lot better than ok, Harry."

"Well, then. Ready?"

"Wait – no."

Harry laughed again, "Hermione. How far have you come in playing the piano?"

Hermione sighed heavily. She wiped her face, "Yes. Ok."

"Excellent! Ok, stand up." She got up with trepidation and Harry stood in front of her, "First we learn how to breathe. If you can't breathe right it sounds bad."

"But Harry, I don't have a singer's voice."

"Bah! Everyone can have a singer's voice. You just need some training. First, start by breathing down here." He patted his abdomen. "Do not breathe up here." He patted her shoulders. "If your shoulders move, you're doing it wrong. Ok, try breathing in and out."

Hermione breathed.

"That's good. When you sing, you need to push from down here." He patted his abdomen, She copied him. "Ok, that's good. Now, I'm going to sing a note and you match it. Just duplicate what I'm singing." He sang his note strong and clear and she came in quietly. "Thats good! Now louder." He resumed his note, she sang louder. Barely. "Good! Now try to sing louder than I am." She got close to his sound. "Much Better! Can you hear yourself?"

"Yes."

Harry smiled, "Then you're doing it wrong."

"What?!"

Harry chuckled, "It's a very common misconception that you need to be able to hear yourself. It's about blending. If you can hear yourself, you're not blending enough. If you can't hear yourself, but you know your singing because you can feel it, then you're doing it right. It's about your sound disappearing into one larger sound. Let's try it again. Always start with a big breath, whether you think you'll need it or not, because you probably will."

Hermione matched Harry's note and slowly she adjusted her sound so it disappeared into his. With a good bit of help from his magic.

"Yes! That's really good. Just remember what that felt like. Now, try that again, match my sound, then I will drop out and you keep singing for a moment."

They hit their notes, Hermione adjusted her note, then Harry dropped out and Hermione kept going. Her eyes got big and she stopped, her hands covering her mouth.

"See? I told you you could sing." Harry smiled at her.

"That was amazing! I never would have believed I could sound that good."

Harry had a huge smile, "Ok, let's start with a pop duet, where we sing a lot together, then we'll try something classical where we have separate parts. That will stress some pronunciation." He moved toward the piano and his music books.

They dove into learning like Hermione had never experienced before.

The noise of a herd of students galloping down the main stairs interrupted their conversation. Harry turned at the sound, "I think it's lunch. Or do you guys do fire drills, here?"

Hermione looked at him with confused apprehension, "In a stone castle?"

Harry blinked a few times, "I guess not. Must be lunch." They moved to sit down at Harry's table.

Hermione turned to Harry before he got swept up in his food, "So, Harry. Tell me about your school?"

Harry smiled fondly, lost in his memories, "It's about 1700 students. The football team isn't all that good. Test scores are ok, mainly."

Hermione looked concerned, "I thought you said your classes were good?"

Harry smiled, "Yes, they are. The overall test scores in the school are not so great, but there are lots of AP classes – AP is Academic Preparation – basically college level classes taught more like how classes would be taught in college. You get a grade that applies to your high school graduation and you can take a test at the end and if you get a good enough score it can apply to whatever college you go to."

"So these AP classes can shorten your stay at college?"

Harry wagged his head back and forth with a grimace, "Depends on the college. Most AP classes are only equivalent to entry level courses in colleges anyway. Most colleges kind of see AP classes as a bit of a joke because they want to educate you the way they want to, from beginning to end. That way they can control the quality of their final product. I don't really care, AP classes are just more fun than on-level classes."

Hermione smiled at him knowingly, "So, what are your days like?"

"Depends on the season. During the fall, marching band dominates everything. Practices Tuesday and Thursdays from 4 to 8pm and 9 to 5 Saturday. Or if we have a competition on Saturday it's a 12 to 16 hour day. I've signed up for marching band leadership so that will keep me even more busy."

Hermione looked confused, "Leadership? What does that mean?"

Harry looked at her for a moment, "Oh – yea. Marching band is 150 students and getting everyone to work together takes a lot of organisation, which is mostly done by students. Each section has a leader. Above them is the woodwind captain, brass captain, drum line captain, pit captain. Ah – the pit is the melodic percussion on the side of the field. Then above them are the drum majors, then the techs – the college-age instructors who teach us the real details of marching and playing, dot-books, equipment movement –"

Hermione looked completely lost, "Dot books?"

Harry chuckled, "A little book – actually it's usually a set of 3-by-5 cards – cards so big –" Harry held up his hands mimicking a 3 inch by 5 inch card.

Hermione nodded in recognition.

"On these cards you write your position on the field, the measure numbers in the music, the direction you face, your direction of movement, step counts to get to your next position, the counts of dance movements, everything. One card for every few bars of the music. You end up memorising every inch of the music and all the motions completely. It's actually really fun."

Hermione still looked confused, "This sounds very detailed."

Harry was smiling, "Yes, it has to be. You see, the techs keep changing the show as the season goes on. They keep adding more dance movements or they will make the drum feature longer or more complex so sometimes we add measures to the middle of the music. And every person's position is unique, their movement, timing, everything."

Hermione's face got more amazed, "Why? Just to play at American football games?"

Harry laughed, "Oh, no. Well, that's where the tradition and art form started but it has gone far beyond football games. It's a separate thing now. We go to competitions where 30 bands will give their show, one every 15 minutes for several hours."

Hermione started to say something a few times, "And this is fun?"

Harry laughed again, "Yes. You would not believe how fun it is. It is a pretty strange thing if you haven't done it before, but it really is. All of it. The show, the music, the food, even loading the semi is a blast."

Hermione shook her head, "The food?"

"At a competition, the parents make lunch and dinner for everyone involved in our band in the parking lot. It's like this cross between a giant circus and a camping trip for 150 at every competition."

Hermione just looked at him in amazement.

"Then, after marching band season, winter percussion starts in January. Winter percussion is really a smaller version of marching band, but I get to play vibes. The music is completely different, and a lot harder. The group is smaller and the show has to be tighter, more precise."

"And you have normal classes during all this?"

Harry smiled, "Yes. All my other classes are almost an after-thought, but they can be a lot of fun too. Calculus was my absolute favourite this year."

In spite of herself, Hermione was starting to catch Harry's excitement, "What else is fun about your days?"

"Wind ensemble plays some of the best music! It is unbelievably fun to be in a truly excellent group and to be challenged to play so well. It's so exciting! And usually the wind ensemble goes on a trip and performs. Next year we are traveling to Europe! And choir will go along. The jazz band and the small ensembles are an absolute blast. Like what we did the night I got here."

Hermione's eyes lit up as she remembered the feeling. She got a bit lost in that.

Draco stopped across the table from Harry, "Mr Po – Harry. Can I talk to you?"

Harry smiled, "Sure!" He got up and followed Draco a few steps away, "What's up?"

Draco looked at Harry very intently, "I wanted – I understand ..." He huffed and shook his head, "What did you do to Mr Longbottom? He is completely different since yesterday."

Harry laughed, "Someone had told Neville a lie; that he was no good at magic."

"But he wasn't any good at magic."

Harry kept chuckling, "No, he just believed the lie, and then allowed it to become true."

Draco looked confused for a moment, "But now, suddenly, he's very good at it. Just believing doesn't make you good at something."

"No, it doesn't. But Neville was always capable. The fact that he was brilliant at plants proved that he could be brilliant at lots of things. But that lie convinced him not to try. And in the process of not trying, he convinced himself that the lie was true."

Draco had a look of wonderment, "He was lying to himself?"

Harry chuckled, "In a way. We all do it, all the time."

Draco looked rather disbelieving, "So I just need to convince myself I'm good at something?"

Harry laughed more, "No. Everyone has things they are good at, things that come easy to them. And everyone has things they are not so good at, things that take a lot more work to be good at. You can be good at pretty much anything but some things will take a lot more work for you than for others. It all depends on how much work you're willing to put into something to be good at it. Then there's the issue of how good do you want to be? If you want to be the best in the world you better be prepared to dedicate your life to your skill, because that's what it will take regardless of how easy it is for you."

Draco looked at him with concern, "So you want to be a musician?"

Harry shook his head, "No. Music is what gets me up in the morning. It is so much fun I can't stop. But so is calculus, engineering, science. That's what I want to do. Music will always be very important to me but the sciences are my real challenge."

Now Draco looked confused, "Your real challenge? I don't understand."

"Music comes pretty easy to me, and I love it. But science is what really challenges me. It's what fascinates me."

Draco looked sceptical, "I guess I really don't understand."

Harry struggled for his answer, "I guess – there is a push and a pull. The pull is what I'm interested in, and part of that is what is fun and part of it is what challenges me. If it's too easy there is no challenge and it quickly becomes too boring. The push is the commitment, the drive I bring to my interest. My dedication to the subject. When those two match, the push and the pull, I'm having a blast!"

Draco started nodding his head slowly, "Yes. I think I see. Thank you. You've given me a lot to think about." He left with an expression of deep thought, heading toward his house table.

Harry turned back to his round table and lunch.

Hermione caught Harry as he was sitting down, "What did Draco want?"

"He was curious about – you, Neville."

Neville was surprised, then concerned and suspicious, "Me? Why me?"

Harry chuckled, "He noticed that you are a very different person since yesterday. He wanted to know what I did to you."

Neville chuckled, "Did he believe what you told him?"

Harry thought, "I'm not sure – but he's definitely going to be thinking on it."

Hermione was smiling, "Ah – keep your enemies guessing."

Harry watched as Neville and all the rest of the students made their way to their afternoon classes. He turned to Hermione, "Can you tell me more about magical society? What makes it so different?"

Hermione's expression became dark and stormy, "Well, like you said yesterday, change in the wizarding world is incredibly slow. That means that it is still mostly in the 1800's. And by that I mean that the rights for women are not equal and bigotry is rampant. But let's not stop there! No representative democracy."

"What!?"

Hermione was on a roll, "Closed and secretive institutions, no freedom of the press, and blatant racism toward other sentient magical creatures. Oh! And did I mention corruption? I don't think the concept of 'ethics' has been thought of yet."

Harry just stared gobsmacked.

"Everything about modern society we take for granted does not exist in the wizarding world."

Harry was still trying to wrap his head around it, "So – I take it they don't know very much about the non-magical world?"

Hermione shook her head, "No. They have a class here called 'Muggle Studies' but it is almost down to the level of propaganda against non-magical society. It is embarrassingly bad."

Harry looked shocked, "Why?"

"That is a bit of a harder question. I'm not sure the muggle-studies class being so bad is merely out of bigotry. I think a lot of it is just ethnocentrism to a ridiculous degree. And the root of that, I think, is all down to the Statute of Secrecy. It colours everything in wizarding society. Because all of wizarding society needs to be secret from non-magical society, that sets the precedent for secrecy everywhere. This secrecy attitude it sets up, turns all of wizarding society into one big 'secret society', quite literally. The government is closed and not representative, the governing council is all inherited family seats, the institutions are all closed, no freedom of the press, and the populace just thinks it's normal. They have no idea what good governance looks like. They've never seen it before. And it's not like Hogwarts has any classes on good governance or civic responsibility."

Harry shook his head in amazement, "Man, that will take decades to fix."

"Generations. Because, like you said, the wizarding world moves a lot slower."

Harry nodded his head in contemplation, "Hmm. I suppose the wizarding world moving slower and the Statute of Secrecy together create a disaster waiting to happen. The two worlds will never really sync up."

Hermione grew thoughtful, "Unless the wizarding world comes to understand their need. The fact that they actually need, and are actually dependent upon, the non-magical world to be healthy. That might be enough to fix things."

Harry got lost thinking about these complexities.

The noise of stampeding students came down the main stairs toward the Great Hall and filled it with the sound of students.

Harry stood up next to his piano and waved a bit to catch Dumbledore's eye. He nodded in reply and Harry sat down.

When the Great Hall was full, Dumbledore stood up and the noise tapered to silence. Dumbledore nodded to Harry.

Harry started playing a classical piece by Beethoven. It was serene. It was delicate. Harry's magic caressed it, smoothed it, bathed everyone in it. The melody was sublime. It flowed through the hall, pulling everyone along it's path. It wandered through a garden, along a stream, under trees, and came to rest beside a pond. Harry held the final low note until he stood up.

Dumbledore asked quietly, "Harry, what was that music?"

"That was by Ludwig van Beethoven. Piano Sonata Number 8 in C Minor, Opus 13, Movement 2. Written in 1798 when he was 27."

The hall's applause was calm and deep, to match the piece.

Harry sat down at his table.

Neville opened his eyes, "Wow, Harry. That was beautiful."

Hermione's smile was touching, "Yes, very beautiful. That's one of my mum's favourites."

Harry smiled, "It's one of my favourites too." He chuckled, "Consequently, it's one of the few that I remember."

Dinner popped onto the tables and conversation took over their attention.

As dinner ended, Dumbledore came up to Harry's table, "Mr Po – Harry. I would like to talk to you – about your history. Please come to my office." He turned toward the door.

Harry was both thrilled and about to explode. He stood up, "Ready, Hermione?" He motioned for her to come along.

Dumbledore turned back in confusion, "I think this is something for you, alone, Harry."

Harry looked at Dumbledore intensely, "No. Not without Hermione. We need a referee." He smiled angrily.

Dumbledore took a moment to react, "Then may I suggest Professor McGonagall?"

Harry shrugged, "She can come too."

Dumbledore stared tensely for a moment, then nodded curtly and moved off out the door.

McGonagall came up and motioned for Harry and Hermione to come along. They walked silently through the halls and up the stairs. The tension grew with every turn, every corridor. Harry watched as a stone gargoyle came to life and jumped aside at a mumbled word from McGonagall. They went up a moving staircase and into a room filled with books, paintings, a large desk, and strange magical devices.

Professor Dumbledore motioned toward three puffy chairs that popped into existence in front of his desk, "Please, be seated." He sat down behind the huge desk.

Everyone else took a seat, Harry in the middle seat.

Dumbledore looked at Harry and tried to smile. It looked strained, "Harry, I would like to begin the story – as far as I know it – of your history. How you came to be in America and what happened to your parents."

Harry had a tense smile, "I think 'why' is more important than 'how'."

Dumbledore's left eye ticked. "There are some very complex and not well understood reasons for what happened. A lot that I do not understand. I will attempt to explain what I know. Understand that most of this story was pieced together just recently, after you had been found."

Harry lightened up his mood a bit, "Thank you. But please, don't break the bank over it." At Dumbledore's confused look Harry continued, "I am not desperate to know about my previous life. I really like the life I have. I don't need another one."

Dumbledore gave a short grim nod, "Your parents were both Head Boy and Head Girl here at Hogwarts in their seventh year. They were very much in love and were married one year out of school. It was quite the high society wedding, with your father being the heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Potter. They then moved to a small house in Wales, where you were born. They both had lots of friends and were quite influential in the wizarding world. One of your parents best friends was an Auror by the name of Sirius Black. He was your Godfather."

Harry sat up, "Sirius Black? That name – strikes a chord."

Dumbledore seemed to relax, "I don't doubt, he was almost a brother to your father. You are also listed as the heir to the Ancient House of Black, through being named as heir to Sirius." When Harry did not say any more, he continued, "Your parents house was – broken into – and your parents died in that – event. Sirius Black was the first to arrive and took you to safety. You were also injured during that event. He took you to his cousin's house, Andromeda Tonks, – she is a healer – where your injuries were healed. That is where your escort, the Auror Tonks, first met you, when she was 6 years old."

Harry nodded in understanding.

"For some reason, a reason I don't understand, Sirius Black still feared for your safety. I had told him of the safety measures I had taken that would have protected you but he did not seem to believe me. So, against my recommendation, he took you to Canada, then into the US, where he ran into some more criminal elements where both of you were injured again. He left you in the hospital. I never found any trace of him after that."

Harry smiled, "Yes, my mom was there that night in the hospital. She told me about the guy who brought me in. Rather longer black hair, quite injured. But then – so was I."

Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, I read the reports. Rather extensive injuries but nothing life-threatening as far as magic is concerned. Still, your heart stopped twice. Amazingly, they managed to revive you."

A small gasp came from McGonagall, "Muggles can do that?"

Harry chuckled, "Yes. They can also do it deliberately for as long as needed."

McGonagall looked scandalised, "As long as needed? What for?"

Harry was trying to be gentle, "If they are doing open heart surgery they put you on a heart-lung machine for the duration. It oxygenates and pumps your blood for you while they fix what's wrong with your heart."

McGonagall's face warred between amazement and horror, "What could be wrong with it that needs that much – intervention?"

Harry shrugged, "Probably a heart transplant. Or to repair a heart valve. Or a hole between the chambers of your heart."

McGonagall's eyes almost fell out of her head, "Transplant! From what?"

Harry tried to down-play the shock, "From someone else who's heart is in good shape but they may have died of other factors."

McGonagall's expression kept getting worse.

Hermione leaned over to speak quietly to her, "And you questioned why I dropped Muggle Studies?"

That was the opposite of what McGonagall expected her to say.

Hermione turned to Professor Dumbledore, "Professor, isn't there more to –"

"Yes, Miss Granger. I am not finished with the story."

Hermione looked down at her hands tightly clasped in her lap looking chastised.

Harry gave her hands a comforting squeeze.

Dumbledore continued, "I must tell you, Harry, that you are quite famous in the wizarding world. During the investigation into the break-in to your parents house it was found that you survived the Killing Curse. An unblockable spell that no one has ever survived before. Until you. We do not know how, possibly from something your mother did, but we don't know. And you have generated quite a lot of excitement since you have returned. I have an interview with the Daily Prophet, the wizarding newspaper, scheduled for the morning. They were quite insistent. If you would like to –"

Harry looked untrusting, "I am not interested in participating in that."

Dumbledore nodded his head slowly, "As you wish. I will take care of it." He gave Harry a moment to think, then, "As soon as you are able, we should visit Gringotts and fulfil your inheritance."

Harry's magic surged in anger, "No!"

Dumbledore and McGonagall sat back shocked, Harry's magic pushing against them like a wind.

"I will not be put in a box! You keep trying to do this to me and I keep telling you no! Stop it!"

Dumbledore slowly nodded, then quietly, "My sincere apologies. I will not ask again."

Harry stood up, pulling Hermione up as he still held her hand, his tension still roiling, "Thank you for sharing this with me. Maybe we can continue these discussions at a later time." He and Hermione left the office walking slowly, tensely, deep in thought.

After rounding a few random corners Harry came to a stop, his head hanging down and shaking in frustration. His voice was soft, "I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't realise I would be putting you in a difficult situation." He looked at her sadly.

She spoke softly, "You didn't. I did that myself." After a moment she continued, "You realise that he still hasn't told you anything. Your story is so much bigger than what he has said."

Harry nodded, "Yes, I thought so. But I want him to tell me. Can I trust him? Will I ever be able to trust him? We'll see if he tells me everything."

"What if he doesn't? And how will you know if he doesn't?"

Harry smirked sadly, "That's only part of the question. The bigger part is will he ever trust me? So far he hasn't."

Hermione covered her mouth with her hand and a fearful expression, "Harry, you have no idea what the history books say about you and your parents."

Harry chuckled sadly, "I can already tell it is very bad. Every time I talk to Dumbledore I get hints of more he is not telling me. It actually started with Tonks, when she accidentally mentioned that she had met me when I was one. And then, when I asked her to tell me more, she said she had orders that she couldn't. And he knew that Tonks said that to me. He is watching unbelievably closely. But, even at a more fundamental level, this – reaction I get whenever anyone tries to – put me in a box. I don't even know why but it is incredibly strong. And I will not go against that. It – feels too important to me." After a moment spent looking at each other, Harry smiled, "We should go. It's probably getting late." They started up the stairs toward Harry's room, still holding hands.

Albus sat practically growling. He shut off the listening spell on Harry, "He's got me and he knows it."

McGonagall's expression was concern, "He is right, you haven't trusted him yet."

"Yes. And just how am I supposed to do that? How can I come to trust him?"

McGonagall took a deep breath, "What about this reaction he is talking about?"

"That is his magic. When I suggested he accept his inheritance his magic almost exploded. He is beginning to become aware of it. Actually – I should say that he has always been aware of it, just not consciously until lately. He is very sensitive to it." He sighed heavily, "I need to think about how to trust him."

McGonagall huffed, "Yes, and you'd better think hard, because I don't think you are going to get many more chances like that." She got up and left the now silent office.

Thursday, 2 June, 1994

"Good morning, Harry."

Harry jumped out of his deep thoughts and saw Hermione walking toward him in the corridor outside his room, "Good Morning!" His big smile matched hers.

She pulled him down the hall toward breakfast.

"Thank you for coming to get me every morning. I'd probably starve otherwise."

She chuckled, "I'm sure. Lost in the endless corridors of Hogwarts. No pictures to ask directions of, no suits of armour to ask for help, you wouldn't last a day."

He sighed dramatically, "You know me too well."

"Is this one of your hobbies?"

Harry looked confused, and expecting a punchline, "What?"

"Recreational panic? I sense a recurring theme."

Harry's eyebrows rose with a touch of teasing, "Could be. Maybe I watched too many horror movies when I was a kid. I might be scarred for life."

She looked teasingly at him, "Or just collecting sympathy points?"

Harry gasped with a big smile, "That's it! I've found my new career! I can be a sympathy conductor. What'd-ya think?"

Hermione burst out in a loud groan and covered her eyes with her hand.

McGonagall came walking alongside Hermione, "Miss Granger, is this one behaving himself?"

Hermione shook her head, "No – no, he's not. He needs to learn that there are consequences to bad puns!" She was wagging her finger in his face.

Harry started giggling and half-heartedly trying to bite Hermione's wagging finger.

McGonagall shook her head, "Ah! We don't have a mind-healer on staff. We'll have to call St Mungos."

Harry looked up with a wicked grin, "For treatment? Or pun-ishment?"

Hermione turned to McGonagall, "We should stun him first, so the contagion doesn't spread. It falls under self defence, doesn't it?"

McGonagall shook her head, "I'd suggest – run!" She took a sharp turn toward the staff room and disappeared behind the door.

Hermione stopped in the hall, put her hands on her hips, and got into Harry's face, "You, Mr Monster, are going to get yourself into trouble!"

Harry was innocence personified, "Who? Me?"

Neville walked up just in time, "Hi. What'd he do, Hermione?"

Hermione glanced at Neville, "Silliness and bad puns. An unforgivable combination."

Neville's eyebrows rose in fear, "Oooh, that's bad. Food might help." He started toward the Great Hall.

Harry's eyes lit up, "Food?"

Hermione started pulling him along behind Neville. They arrived at Harry's table and Hermione pushed him into a seat at his table where a plate and food popped into existence.

Harry sighed with joy as he started in.

Everyone else followed Harry's lead that morning. Soon the students left for one of their last days of class.

Hermione turned to Harry, "So, what shall we learn this morning?"

Harry pulled out his big music book, "We are going to learn a really nice tune called 'When I Fall In Love'." He set the book on the piano and they dove deep into the song.

The noise and motion of the students coming in for lunch disturbed their concentration so they moved toward Harry's table.

"Harry!" Neville yelled as he came rushing through the doors. He ran up to Harry and wrapped him in a huge hug, "Harry! I did it!" He let go of Harry and rushed to Hermione, "Hermione! I did it!" He gave her a huge hug, "I can't believe it!"

Harry started laughing, "What? Neville, what happened?"

Neville stepped back with the biggest smile anyone had ever seen on him, "I made my first perfect potion!"

Harry threw his hands in the air, "Woohoo! Yes!"

Hermione was laughing, "Neville, that's wonderful! What did Snape say?"

Neville looked relaxed, happy, and open for the first time in a long time, "He just looked at it. He held it up and looked at it and said nothing. Eventually he looked at me, nodded, and said, 'A perfect potion' and walked away. I almost fell over! – I mean, eventually he came back and asked me how I did it, and I mentioned that Harry had told me how, but – I was rather amazed at the time so I'm not sure I was very coherent."

Harry laughed, "That is awesome!"

Neville's face started to crumble, "I just can't believe I wasted all those years. I could have been doing so much." Storm clouds started to cover his sunshine.

Harry stepped up to him, put a hand on his shoulder, and looked him in the eye, "Neville, you have just achieved some great success. Don't turn around and go back. Run for it! Run toward the success, don't go back to the pain and frustration, run toward the future. Leave that garbage behind! Life is better up ahead. Right?"

Neville started to smile again, "Yes. I don't need that. I need – plants!"

Harry and Neville recited together, "Remember your plants!" They laughed and hugged.

The three of them moved toward Harry's table and sat down. Plates and food popped in on the table in front of them.

"Here, Neville." Hermione set on his plate a baked potato with a small conjured birthday candle stuck in it, "This is to mark the end of slavery and the beginning of your success. To Neville Longbottom, a true wizard of Gryffindor."

Harry raised his hands, "Woohoo!"

Neville looked a combination of embarrassed and touched. He looked from one to the other, "I'll take that."

Lunch was relatively quiet. Evidently the news of Neville changing the world hadn't made the rounds yet.

As Neville left for his afternoon exams Harry looked to Hermione, "Well – what are we going to learn about today?"

Hermione looked at him like he had just said something quite suspect. She took another moment to come to a conclusion, "Harry, you learned about this 'transference' concept from your psychology class?"

Harry nodded.

"What else did you learn in that class? – What was the most interesting thing you learned from that class?"

Harry thought for a few moments, "I think the most fascinating thing I learned, was about this idea called Family Systems Theory. The idea has been around for a number of decades but it is becoming central to the study of human psychology now. It's the idea that a family is an emotional system. A stress put on one member of a family will affect all others. Even if that stress is not discussed."

Hermione was incredulous, "What? That makes no sense."

Harry smiled indulgently, "Think of a family where one parent cheated on the other. That event, even if it happened years ago, can remain a tension in the parent's relationship if it's not dealt with. It can become the big white elephant in every room that is not talked about. But that tension will still affect everyone in the family because they will all subconsciously dance around it. That tension will start to be expressed by the children, and be acted out through them, even though they have no conscious idea why."

Hermione's jaw dropped, "My God, Harry! I've never heard of that before."

"Yup. Rather profound. So, how do you think magic would fit into Family Systems Theory?"

Hermione gasped and stared into space wide eyed.

Harry continued, "You see, each of us is 60 to 70 percent subconscious in everything we do. Our conscious mind is a rather thin veneer covering our subconscious. Most of our needs, drives, and reactions pop up from our subconscious. Sometimes rather forcefully. So – why not magic?"

Hermione covered her face with her hands and whispered, "Oh, God." She stayed that way.

"I'm just wondering how our interlocking subconscious minds might use magic in response to the tensions and stresses in a family, or any group that acts like a family. Particularly a family with – issues."

After a few moments, Harry got up and went to the piano and started practicing scales, giving her time to think.

After a while, Hermione came over to the piano and sat on the bench next to him.

Harry stopped playing and looked at her with concern. She looked hollow. Harry put his arm around her shoulders, "How are you?"

She spoke slowly, "I need to think. That concept is – truly profound. And very scary."

Harry nodded with concern, "I thought it would be. Anything I can do to help?"

Hermione shook her head, "No. I just need to think. I think this is going to change my understanding of magic. Completely."

He nodded, "Let me know if I can help." He started playing some tunes lightly, effortlessly. Wandering through the music, through expressions, and ideas. His magic flowing through the music.

Hermione was lost in her thoughts, spurred on by Harry's magic. Time was lost, limitations were lost, ideas and concepts flowed and reshaped the world. Music and magic expanded her view, enabled ideas, and creativity.

At some point, Neville had come in and sat at Harry's table.

A man dressed all in black with black hair and pale skin approached the piano and stood listening for a few minutes.

Harry saw Neville stiffen at the round table.

Harry looked up at the man and smiled, acknowledging him. Harry tapered his music quieter and slower to make room for his question.

The man spoke, his voice deep and melodious, "Mr Potter –"

Harry looked up and smiled, whispering to not disturb Hermione's deep thoughts, "Please, call me Harry. Potter doesn't work for me."

That changed the man's countenance immediately, "Harry." He bowed his head slightly.

Harry continued, "I was raised Harry Forrester. The name Potter doesn't catch my attention. I keep thinking you're talking to someone else."

"What about Evans?"

"Evans? Who's that?"

"That was your mother's name."

"Really?"

The man glanced darkly frustrated up toward the head table, "Hasn't Professor Dumbledore told you?"

Harry shrugged, "He's started to tell me some. But not much, yet."

The man thought for a moment, "May I have a word?"

"Sure." Harry resolved his tune on a low note, got up and stepped a few paces away with the man, "I'm afraid I haven't figured out everyone's name, yet."

The man nodded, "I am Professor Snape, Potions Master."

"Professor Snape, I'm glad to meet you." Harry put out his hand.

Snape shook his hand and gave a slight bow, "Harry. Today, Mr Longbottom completed his first perfect potion in my class since he has started at Hogwarts. That is – completely unexpected. When I asked him how he had managed this, he said you had told him the secret to – his change of skill level. I have never seen any student increase their skill level so dramatically in my entire career. What did you tell him?"

Harry's smile grew, "Ah, yes. Well, this year I took a class in human psychology and it touched on a concept called 'transference'. It was only an overview class so the concept wasn't treated very deeply and – the concept doesn't apply that well in this situation – but the basic idea is that any strong emotions attached to one subject can be transferred, or associated with another subject. This could be a good association or a bad one."

Snape interrupted, "This is an important concept in this study of human psychology?"

"No, it's actually a rather small idea in the subject. The point is that, because Neville is brilliant at herbology – and that must be a very difficult subject since it challenges Hermione – then that proves that he is generally brilliant. So why is he brilliant in only one narrow subject? Why not more? I suspected that someone had told him that he wasn't good at a number of things and he has believed that lie and allowed that lie to become true. So I told him that the next time he was working on a potion he should stop, look at the potion, and pretend it was a plant that he needed to care for exactly right. That allowed him to transfer his confidence from plants to potions. It broke the power of that lie."

Snape stood silent, thinking intensely. Then, finally he spoke, "Harry – I would like to talk to you more about this, when I have more time."

"Sure. Any time."

Snape gave a slight bow and moved toward the head table.

When Harry moved back to his table he saw Neville and Hermione with fearful expressions. He sat down slowly, "What?"

Hermione said, "You talked to Snape –"

Neville jumped in, "And lived to tell about it!"

Harry laughed, "Sure. Why not?"

Neville was incredulous, "Do you talk to a Basilisk for fun?"

Harry looked lost, "A what?"

Hermione interrupted, "Never mind, what did he say?"

Harry had a huge smile, "We talked about Neville's rewriting British history."

Neville stared dumbfounded while Hermione burst out laughing.

Neville was deeply confused, "You what?"

Hermione kept laughing, "What did he say?"

"He just wanted to know what I said to Neville."

Hermione's eyes grew, "And you told him?"

"Yes! Of course. Why not?"

Neville was still overwhelmed, "And he wasn't – nasty?"

Harry stood looking at them in confusion for a few moments, "No, he seemed genuinely interested in how you got over your difficulties with potions."

Silence met Harry's proclamation. Neville and Hermione just stared.

"What?" Harry started faux whinging, "What did I do? I didn't mean it, honest. I'll never do it again."

Hermione huffed and threw her table napkin at him, "You just wander through life oblivious to everyone else's struggles. Like nothing is ever wrong! How do you do this?"

Harry stood up, raised his hand in proclamation and quoted toward the ceiling dramatically,

"Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence."

Hermione became frustrated and threw up her hands, "Harry, you're driving me crazy! How do you do this?"

Harry just kept quoting, with a touch of irony,

"As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons."

Hermione growled at him and threw Neville's napkin at him hitting him in the chest, it fell to the floor unnoticed.

Harry just kept going, comically overdramatic,

"Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant; theytoo have their story."1

Hermione stood up with a scowl and a growl like she was going to hit him.

Harry smirked at her, arm still raised, "I'm just trying to be dull and ignorant."

Her expression turned an angry sort of confused.

He dropped his arm and looked at her, "I'm not from this world. I have a different perspective, one not tied down by everyone else's preconceptions and world-view. I have no history here, therefore I don't have the same limitations and assumptions about this world."

Her features softened, "Yes. I suppose." She sat down in defeat with a huff. "But it's still not fair!"

Harry smiled, "Just wait until you come to visit me in Boston. You will see everything that I can't."

Hermione pouted.

Harry almost died. She was unbelievably cute. He burst out laughing.

She looked up at him in anger, "What!?"

He could barely get the worlds out, "You are so cute! That pout should be considered a dangerous weapon when pointed at anyone! Ah!" Harry covered his heart like he had been wounded. "I'm dead!" He kept laughing.

Hermione looked at him trying to remain angry but it wasn't working. She started to break down into a smirk, then a half-angry smile, then she stood up and smacked him on the arm, "Stop that. You're ruining my pout! I was gaining momentum and now you're spoiling it." She started to laugh as he couldn't contain his. "Harry!" She sat down again, crossed her arms, smiling with a bit of embarrassment.

Harry leaned over and gave her a quick one-armed hug, touching his cheek on top of her head, "You are so brilliant! How am I ever going to keep up with you?"

"You're not supposed to keep up with me. You're supposed to say 'yes, ma'am' and get out of the way!"

Harry sprang into a salute and said, "Yes, m'am." His smirk still leaking through.

Hermione started chuckling.

Harry ran over to the piano and started playing the song they had been working on in the morning. He started playing the first verse as a slow ballad.

"Harry! We just started learning that song."

His playing was so moving and his magic tugged on her. He started to sing,2

When I fall in love.

She had so much fun singing it earlier in the morning she couldn't resist and dove into singing it too. She stood up and started with an echo part in a soaring harmony just behind Harry. He started the next phrase.

It will be forever.

Or I'll never fall in love

They kept wandering into and out of synchronised, echoed and harmonised parts through the song. They sang to each other, for each other, lost in the music, not noticing anything else.

In a restless world like this is,

love is ended before it's begun,

and too many moon-light kisses

seem to cool in the warmth of the sun.

Harry's magic filled the room and pulled everyone in to the sway of the phrases. This time there was more magic to mingle with Harry's as Hermione's magic participated and swirled with the music.

When I give my heart,

it will be completely,

or I'll never give my heart

A duet of music and magic that filled the room to bursting and pulled all the students in to fill them with the essence of the song. The power of the magic pulling on their ideals, their dreams, their thoughts, and values. It allowed them to see a different view of the world around them. It was also unbelievably romantic. Musical theatre lived out among them.

and the moment I can feel that

you feel that way too,

is when I fall in love with you.

As the song ended the room jumped with applause. Harry and Hermione jumped too, as they had not noticed when all the students had come into the Great Hall for dinner so they were quite surprised when the students applauded. Only food popping in on the tables stopped the applause. Everyone started in, with evidently a lot to talk about because the noise level was still high. They only got about ten minutes to eat before they were interrupted.

Professor Dumbledore approached Harry's table with McGonagall in tow, "Harry. If you would, I would like to continue your story, in my office."

Harry nodded and stood up offering his hand to Hermione. She stood up and they followed. Harry was quietly humming a tune as they made their way into Dumbledore's office and sat down. Everyone looked expectantly at Dumbledore, who looked pained.

Dumbledore began slowly, "Harry, the larger picture, surrounding the break-in of your parents house, was that there was a war – a civil war happening here. It was, ostensibly, between people who were trying to preserve a more traditional way of life and those who wanted change. But that is not a correct characterisation of the struggle. The tensions in our society were sparked by a desire to retain traditions, but that struggle was captured by a man who only wanted power – at any cost. Your parents stood against him."

Harry interrupted, "My birth-parents."

Dumbledore acquiesced, "Yes, your birth-parents. This man gathered followers of a very radical nature because he was a very powerful wizard. It was he who attacked your par – birth-parents. He wanted them to join his side, but they had denied him several times previously. He killed them – and tried to kill you. Something unusual happened. We're not sure how, but when he tried to kill you – he was defeated instead."

Harry sounded suspicious, "Defeated?"

Dumbledore nodded slowly, "Yes, only defeated, not killed. And I have a number of reasons to believe that he is trying to come back. And when he does, he will come for you."

Hermione's hand tightened on Harry's.

Harry nodded once, "Ok. So, why do you want me to come back to live here? To put myself in his path? You think that whatever happened before will make me immune to him again? You – want me to defend this nation?"

Dumbledore grimaced slightly, "There is ..." He started again, "Surrounding great occurrences, such as you surviving his very powerful attack, there is Destiny – a destiny that only you can fulfil. This is an aspect of magic that is not well understood in a formal sense – more in a practical sense."

Harry was still calm, "Is this an active roll you want me to play – or am I just bait?"

Dumbledore's left eye twitched, "We do not know. This is an aspect that we do not understand."

Harry frowned deeply, "Yet the fact remains that I am Harry Forrester, a mere muggle."

Dumbledore's eyes sparked, his intensity jumped, "Oh, no. Far from it. You have very powerful magic. In a form we have not seen before. This could be the key to – everything. When you accept your inheritance –"

"NO!" Harry's magic burst to filling the room like the heat of a bonfire. Harry stood up slowly and spoke quietly, "End of story. No." He pulled Hermione out the door and down the stairs. He got ten paces down the hall and stopped, his head hanging down. "I'm sorry, Hermione."

She reached up and lifted his chin to look in his eyes, "Why?"

"I don't want to react that way. It's – just so strong. Everything in me says 'absolutely not' every time he brings that up. I can't even stay in the same room when he tries to push me."

She tried to smile, "You are, who you are, Harry. Don't try to be someone else."

Harry took a long, slow, deep breath looking off down the hall, "Yes." He got a sly smirk, looking back to her, "Even if just being me is difficult?"

She rolled her eyes, "You're always sooo difficult." She smirked back at him and pulled him close as they moved down the hall.

Dumbledore stopped the listening spell on Harry. He sighed to McGonagall, "I can't talk to Harry. His magic responds negatively every time. I'm afraid we are completely dependent upon Miss Granger."

Minerva looked at him with deep concern, and a touch of fear.

He continued, "I even tried to influence Miss Granger with a few very light compulsion charms. Harry's magic responded and defended her. He essentially performed a finite incantatum and stopped them."

Minerva gasped lightly, "Albus! You – That's – He did? How did he know to do that?"

"I have no idea."

Hermione Granger

Hermione walked into the Common Room with her head down, thinking deeply about Harry and his predicament. She was halfway up the stairs when she heard a squeal. She looked back and the entire floor started moving with all the other girls in Gryffindor flowing toward her. She bolted up the stairs to her dorm as the storm rushed in like a flood. She barely made it to her bed before the waves crashed against it. The sound of giggles and sighs like the surf rolling in.

The seventh year Prefect, Samantha Cutting, stalked in like a tiger and cut through the noise, "What do you do with him all day, snog him senseless?"

Hermione's jaw dropped, "What?! I do not!"

"Why not!? What? Do you waste your life playing scrabble, or something?!"

Hermione was lost and confused, "Scrabble?"

Samantha threw up her hands, "That song! You two sang that song at dinner and it killed me!" That noise of the surf rose and crashed on them all and just kept rolling. Everyone seemed to agree with Samantha.

Hermione was still stuck on scrabble, "He teaches me music and I teach him magic!"

"Ohhh! I bet it's magic!" The surf roared again.

Hermione was incensed, "Out! All of you! Out of my dorm!" She pulled her wand and started waving it lightly and everyone started moving, the first years the fastest.

Samantha was the last to leave, "You realise that everyone is insanely jealous of you. So don't let us down. Don't miss the opportunity that only seems to come along once in a generation." She turned and walked out.

Hermione was deeply confused again, with the echo of surf splashing in through the door.

*1 - Harry is quoting from the first stanza of "The Desiderata" by Max Ehrmann, written in 1927

*2 - "When I Fall in Love", Music by Victor Young/Words by Edward Heyman, 1952