Sorry all. My muse has been gone away on vacation, watching Angel for the most part.

If you don't like slow moving stories, sorry. Just bear with me here. It'll pick up and slow down intermittently, but we're almost done with first year. Even though it seems we're only half way, two more chapters and then it's summer. So yeah.

Hey, gotta question. I'm not trying to be…snarky, or anything, but…is there a particular reason you all seem to think a muggle would be less likely to get swept up in fame as a tabloid celebrity? Or be less likely to neglect/abuse children, for that matter? Having magic doesn't rewire your entire personality. If anything, I think a pureblood would see a child as precious, since the wizarding society is so small. And I keep seeing Harry's treatment being referred to as "unnecessary". People, since when is abuse ever "necessary"? And how does being muggleborn automatically make Lily a better person? An abused child doesn't often know why s/he is abused, and the parent in all likelihood wouldn't be able to come up with a rational reason either. Unless they had some sort of demon-baby. Anyway, it's just been nagging at my mind, thought I'd put it out there.

hpsbdg: Alright, I'm working on it, should be up in a few days. Will Harry be Voldemort dark? Depends on what you mean. In terms of magic? Yeah, he'll delve deeply. Will he split his soul? No. Will he never trust anyone? He'll trust more than LV, but that's not saying much. Fiercely independent is a good way to describe Harry. In terms of insane maniacal evilness? Sanity intact. And besides, my LV will be quite different from canon. Harry will pick up a few things from him though, you'll see.

gunner: Thanks, glad you're liking it. I'll take it into consideration. And I know, right? Personally, I think it's because there's no summary with the link, so people just pass right over it. Maybe after a few more updates, they'll start clicking on it to see what it's all about once they see it's getting some length. But really, haven't we all got the twin story summary memorized? Parents bad. Harry awesome. Insert some cheesy cryptic line.

I don't know why, but it seems when I finally finish a chapter and am ready to post it, I'm always exhausted and therefore can't be bothered to give it a read through. Sorry.

Disclaimer: I own several hundred books, an extensive tv-on-dvd collection, and an outdated laptop, but I don't own any of this.

Ch. 7: Knowledge of Self

"Potter." Came the reluctant murmur. Harry turned to face Draco Malfoy with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "I've been instructed to give this to you."

The immaculately groomed blonde held out a small pin bearing the Malfoy coat of arms in the "honored guest" colors. A portkey. "It will activate at 6:30 in the evening precisely, so make sure you're clear of the wards. Until Yule." With a quick nod he walked off, leaving Harry eyeing the pin as though it was the pin's fault.

Lady Malfoy had not politely accepted Harry's decline of her invitation. Her reply to him, delivered the next morning, had left him feeling embarrassed, as if he had seriously said something ignorant in front of the assembled governments of the world, and forgotten to wear pants while he was at it.

He had at least wheedled her down to just the dinner, and not the entire holiday break, by politely but firmly informing her that he would be staying at Hogwarts out of necessity and want. (It was begging. It may not have been outright, but it was begging.) She had relented, and so now on December 21st, Harry would be finding himself portkeyed to Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire for the evening and most of the night for his first real pureblood celebratory gathering.

Harry was in two minds about nearly every aspect of this. In regards to his host and the guests: well, Harry had sworn to himself that he would stave off arrogance for as long as he lived, but he was fairly confident he could handle the pureblood society with casual grace. The Lady Malfoy, on the other hand… Of the dark high class families (let's not beat around the bush here), she was the only one Harry knew for sure wanted him there. So, if she were to spend the time playing the perfect host, flitting amongst them, Harry may have to deal with at least a little masked hostility. However, were she to spend the event trying to crack him, as she seemed intent on doing, his secrets may be in jeopardy. Harry would assume nothing when it came to the beautiful enigmatic witch.

Sliding the pin into an inner pocket, Harry said nothing, turning instead to the small group of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff girls next to him. The castle was really shaping up, the atmosphere had a feel to it that was very…..Christmasy, was the only way to describe it. The winter sky was perpetually dark, an opaque grey-blue-black. Snow blanketed the castle and grounds, the very meaning of the word picturesque. Small fires roared to life in standing pillar grates here and there, and the hallways smelt of pine and peppermint courtesy of the trees and decorations being set up everywhere. It was the season of thick coats, hot chocolate, and fireside naps. Harry loved it, the cold crisp weather, the overcast atmosphere belying the cheer and life in the air.

"See you when we get back, Harry. You better not open my present before Christmas." Lisa said, standing on her toes to give him a hug. She was kind of short, so her head rested near the crook of his neck. This was the first time Harry had been hugged by someone his age and a girl. It was nice, not too tight or overbearing, but firm and comfortable. He liked it, Harry decided, more than Sirius' bear hugs.

"I won't." He said, rolling his eyes making her smile. "I hope you have a nice trip. I'm sure you'll get those beads you wanted." She would, Harry had gotten them for her. They were in her trunk right now, wrapped up neatly in dark blue paper, she just didn't know it yet. "It's weird to think you'll be having summer in Australia while we're mucking about in the snow. You'll probably be at the…beach. You know, you should…send pictures. And postcards. Yeah. But with pictures." Harry said slowly, his voice growing more enthusiastic as he thought about it.

Lisa blushed and slapped his arm. "Shut up. Jeez, Harry. Wait till my parents find out I've made friends with the school perv." She said the last to Padma in a bemoaning sort of voice. Padma giggled and shook her head, giving Harry a hug of her own.

"Oh, I'm only joking, calm down."

"I know your pain Lisa. Auntie Amelia is gonna go spare that she was right about Harry…and I made friends with him anyway." Susan teased, smiling as she took her turn with Harry.

Harry threw his arms up in dramatic surrender. "Alright, alright, I get it. I never should have said anything. Circe, you women never let anything go. Have nice vacations, everyone, and I'll see you when you get back."

The last of his goodbyes said, Harry trudged back up to his room, going in and collapsing in his nice leather desk chair.

Setting the pin next to the oil lamp, Harry cast his eyes over the last letter from Mrs. Malfoy, which lay open next to it. Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair and picked it up yet again.

Mr. H. Potter,

Upon your completion of the adoption ritual, the two of us will be family in the eyes of magic. To a select few of the Old Families, this is far more important than blood.

My marriage may hide the name Black, but it is who I remain. Our family has too much history in losing its members, and as such I willnot waste those few that I am given.

Young man, you will attend the Yuletide celebrations here at Malfoy Manor as an honored family guest, if I have to personally come and collect you myself. The ring you wear gives me the right, and neither Lily and James Potter, nor Albus Dumbledore will stop me, you can be sure of that.

Mr. Potter…Hadrian. Is it so wrong of me to desire to know you beyond a name and a face? Family goes both ways, I am related to you just as you are to me. I will do my utmost to bring your godfather into attendance as well, but you as well as I know the likelihood.

I was unaware that you are staying at Hogwarts, as I know for a fact that your mother, father, and brother will be attending the Ministry Ball Christmas Eve, but it changes nothing. There will be no issue, as Lucius has ensured with the Board of Governors. You will be sent a portkey that will bring you to the Manor on the 21st, and the use of a room here in our guest wing will be provided for you.

It has not escaped my notice that you were alone on the platform, that there was no whisper of your existence prior to September, or that you are remaining at school whilst your family convenes. I will ask you no questions, you have my word. However, as the godson of my cousin at the least, and heir and future Lord of my Family at the most, it is my duty as a Black to ensure your health and happiness.

So, in accordance with that, I will see you before me in the foyer of my home this coming Yuletide.

Impatiently awaiting your presence,

Sincerely yours,

Lady Narcissa Cassiopeia Malfoy, née Black

And that was that. Strange that he held her in fairly high esteem for some reason, certainly above his parents and most of the population, and yet she was the only person Harry could think of, that he was afraid of.

-.x.X.x.-

The chill swept over Harry from where he was perched about 150 feet off the ground. He was laid back lazily on the finely crafted broom Sirius had given him, drifting over Hogwarts' snow covered visage. The castle was uncharacteristically empty with the start of the holidays, only a few random people besides himself staying and none that he knew. The air was silent, thicker. The hallways seemed longer, the motionless castle larger as it loomed high above even Harry. A languid smile curved his lips and lit up his aristocratic features as Harry felt the tension he hadn't even been aware of drain from his being.

Nothing against those he had chosen as friends. 'Or those that have chosen me.' Harry added on, thinking of Blaise. However, due either to his upbringing or just how he was, Harry very much drew his energy from being alone with his thoughts in a relaxed, quiet environment. This time alone in the castle would do him a world of good.

-.x.X.x.-

Two hours later, after having gone flying over the surrounding countryside both for the view, and to scout out potential places to build a more permanent home for the pups, Harry returned to his room and collapsed onto his bed. It was kind of hard to tell what would be suitable when everything was blanketed in the pure, crisp white snow.

He'd have to revisit it later. So now, what to do. It was still relatively early afternoon. The last few days had all been spent lazing around and relaxing. Well, Harry was recharged now and ready to go. Thing was, there was still about a week and a half left of the two week vacation. His break homework was all done already, and he had been keeping up his morning exercises as well as every other day magical training sessions. Harry looked about for some idea of what to do, running a hand through his hair leaving it messy. Eventually he let out a breath and sprung up, pulling on a hoodie as he made his way to the door, having decided to go to the library to look for something interesting. It had been a long time since he'd been able to sit with a book that wasn't school related.

He walked the cold corridors silently and gracefully, just enjoying the Christmas season. As he walked, Harry thought of all he should accomplish this break. He wanted to do a little more investigating into the third floor. The implications of the Philosopher's Stone being housed there were just too tempting to ignore. Also, he should start to research more thoroughly on copyright charms. He should know all that he could of them if he was to try to break them. There were a number of things to be doing. There always was. And Harry was quite happily putting them off for now. He walked into the library and began perusing the shelves.

-.x.X.x.-

Harry sat comfortably reading a book about lost arts and the magic of old. There was very little fact, simply conjecture mostly, a few recorded word of mouth stories, but it was a very enjoyable read nonetheless. It was interesting, those times. The different means of learning; finding a master and entering into an apprenticeship, or traveling around picking up whatever one could from here and there all the different cultures. Those sorcerers who generally found a trade they could specialize in, whether love spells or necromancy, and immersed themselves in that art. They may be more specialized, but what they did deal in they dealt at a level so beyond what most achieved today, it was paid no attention to the ghost staring at him from across the table, beautiful in her eternal sadness. She had appeared nigh on half an hour ago and had yet to say anything, just as Harry had yet to acknowledge her presence."Something is changed about you."Harry calmly turned his page. "Yes." he said simply, a spectre not fully connected to this plane, Helena couldn't feel the magic, not exactly. If she could, then she would have known immediately what was catching her attention. As it was, since Harry had applied the block she had taken to sending him odd looks, increasing in their frequency as time went on.

"I am curious, Hadrian. Indulge me."

Harry slowly closed his book, staring blankly at the cover before finally raising his head to look at her. Sighing, he cast his gaze over to the window.

"I was…foolish, perhaps, with the Troll." Harry spoke at last, still not looking at her. "Don't mistake my meaning, I'm relieved I was able to save the girl, and would do it again in a heartbeat. But it might have been more prudent to feign ignorance afterwards. Pretended it was just accidental magic, or even have fled before the teachers arrived."

Helena said nothing. This obviously was not what she had expected, but she had been around a long time. Not much caught her by surprise, and she understood things were often not what they seemed. Still, to those that knew her (Harry), he could clearly see the concern in her opaque eyes.

"The Headmaster obviously has some sort of plan for my brother." Harry said, almost more to himself than her. "The incident with the Troll, and how I handled myself after, put me on the board- caught his attention. Apparently as a threat."

Harry cleared his throat, leaving his voice strong for the truth, almost harsh in its bluntness. "He set a Dwarven Leech Circle around my bed."

Helena's ghostly eyes widened in alarm as she caught on to what he was saying. Harry saw the look and shook his head, alleviating some of her horror but none of her outrage. "No, I felt the vile thing the moment I stepped into the room. No way I'd let that thing anywhere near my magic."

"You did not seek me out." It wasn't a question.

"No. I thought to, but at the time I had no clue what it was, except for a vague suspicion. It was late, and I'd picked up the alert function to the caster. I snuck out to Grimmauld Place that night, and when I finally discovered the purpose…well, I suppose I lost composure."

Helena nodded sympathetically. "It is understandable. I know how that would affect you." Harry nodded back. She placed a cold arm on his shoulder. "Harry, what did you do?"

So Harry told her everything. How he had lost control of his emotions, and let it go in the garden. How he had spent the entire night furiously researching blocks and restraints of all kinds, and decided to place a more beneficial one on himself. Helena was silent for a long time after that, finally asking just one more question.

"Why would you not go to authority? You wear the ring of an old and noble, not to mention powerful, house. In my day, an action such as that would have been grounds for a familial feud."Harry gave a somewhat bitter smile and answered in a soft voice, "Those were more serious times, Helena. Honor, valor... In today's world, well, it's like a game board. Most are merely pieces; a very select few are players. It is a media circus, a barbaric place of depravity and betrayal, lacking any sort of poetic value, in a very large fashion. Yours was a serious world. Ours is a shallow one, with a few serious people in it. And those few are titans." It was an indirect, flowery way of saying that Dumbledore wielded too much power in their society, and Harry didn't trust anyone at that time. Learning how to communicate with Helena had been an eye-opening lesson in speech and semantics, as well as politics.

Unexpectedly, Helena offered comfort in her own way. "There was much then that would horrify you, Hadrian, that is no longer prevalent today. The world is changed, as is the inevitability of time, but still there lies beauty. One only has to look elsewhere." She said nothing about his situation, but Harry felt a little better. He offered her a small smile, and she returned one even smaller than that.

"Well said, My Lady." He said standing and offering her an arm. His voice became softer, more sincere. "Thank you, Helena." She linked her own in his, careful not to pass his skin, and they began walking towards the Tower room he had visited her in that first day of September. "Of course." She replied. "Now, about how this affects your lessons…"

Harry shook his head, but couldn't keep the fond smile from his features.

-.x.X.x.-

Harry silently roamed the dark hallways, pulling his leather jacket tighter under his robes, but delighting in the chill nonetheless. The jacket, the one he had bought in Knockturn that day, was now slightly better fitting, Harry having grown into it somewhat. He walked under his new and improved disillusionment. This one was still Latin based, but it was slightly stronger, slightly harder to dispel, and had a mild aversion built in to distract the weak-minded from the shimmer when he moved. This would likely be the last one for awhile, as there was a sizable gap to the next one in terms of difficulty. But still, he was disillusioning himself while the rest of the school was turning ink invisible.

Trailing his hidden form was a full sheaf of parchment and a self-inking auto dictation quill. No, Harry did not have an obsession with animating things to float after him, it was just…cool. So sue him. Actually, he was working on opening doors as he approached them now. With age and experience, Harry would be able to do it simply by manipulating his aura. Now, with his control not nearly fine tuned enough, and his magic blocked on top of that, Harry had to find another way. He was working on getting instinctive at a mild thought-directed unfocused wandless banisher. When he perfected it, it would be his first piece of wandless magic.

He was out tonight starting preliminary notes for his Hogwarts map. It would take years, so the sooner he started, the better. At the moment he was traversing a part of the castle he had never before been. Harry had seen a hallway a ways from the library with portraits he didn't recognize, and so had wandered down. It was vastly unused, and all Harry knew was that he was on either the 2nd or 3rd floor, or somewhere in between. (most staircases that weren't the primary or secondary stairwells, but individual, were not uniform). It was actually quite curious that he was here, Harry mused. He had no clue how to get back, beyond a vague…that direction. Usually he kept better track of his whereabouts.

He came upon a door that was facing a glass paneled wall full of stained glass depictions of battles long since fought. Going to open the door, Harry paused with a frown on his face and his arm outstretched towards the handle. Why was he going in here? He hadn't wanted to enter any of the countless other doors he had passed. Why did he feel the need to see what was behind this one? Stepping back Harry drew his wand and looked both ways down the corridor, unsure. Sweeping his detection spells over the doorway, Harry raised an eyebrow.

The door had what was the opposite of the popular Notice-Me-Not aversion ward, the Notice-Me-Now. An equal but opposite attraction ward, that was very strong and woven beautifully. Usually Harry could feel things like these just by proximity. That he had succumbed, however slightly, and needed the spell hinted at one of two things. One, that block was interfering with his Occlumency. Disturbing, but thankfully unlikely, as Harry hadn't detected anything during his nightly pre-sleep meditation. The other was simply that the ward was just that well done.

Obviously, someone wanted someone to find this room. Harry had a hunch who both someones were, and he wasn't the second. Harry considered. The setup here was similar to the room holding Fluffy, only with the Notice-Me-Now in place of the locking charm. And identical to the third floor, an alarm was set to alert the Puppeteer the second the door was opened.

There was no way around, but it wasn't like he was about to NOT check out the room. Hmm. External? This wasn't a tower, but it was a thin kind of four story stand alone corridor. He wouldn't be able to go around, but he could go over. He hadn't been here before, but he did know where he was, and clearly remembered that yes, there were windows on the other side too. So, should he summon his broom or go all Spiderman?

Had he left his window open? No, and now that he thought about it he should work an anti-summoning charm around his windows, it was a point of vulnerability. But anyways, he could just summon it anyway and repair the window later, right? 'No,' Harry thought, shaking his head, 'it doesn't matter either way since the broom's in the trunk. How's your sticking charms Harry?'

Walking up to those windows, Harry propped it open and looked out and up. About a story up, across the roof, down a story on the other side. Simple. If he had any problems with heights or danger this might be a problem. Thank Morgan he wasn't wired that way. And that he wasn't short, Harry added on to his thought with a shudder. He didn't think he could handle being short.

Harry started running his wand over his form, working the sticking charm over specific areas. Actually physically seeing magic was incredibly rare, but Harry could imagine it. The thick bands forming over his palms, elbows, knees, and feet, weaving together as more were added before shrinking down to fit over like a second skin. It was like the final pull in tying a tie, or blow drying that clear muggle wrapping stuff.

Harry slipped his wand into the holster beneath his sleeve. He cleared his mind, concentrating. The charm you could use on your hands wasn't simple, otherwise you wouldn't be able to even put your wand down. If it was as simple as place and stick, he'd only be able to take one step. Intent was one of the core components of active magic, something you could observe in any continuous live spell. Such as this sticking charm. You had to concentrate on when you wanted it to be active and when you wanted it dormant. Stashing the parchment and quill, Harry walked right up to the ledge, the breeze caressing his face and lifting the fringe of his hair.

He extended his left arm, smoothing his wrist against the rough stone of the castle, and swung out. There was a split second of adrenaline and gravity, as Harry hung hundreds of feet in the air suspended by a four inch section of arm, and then he caught his right on as well. Harry worked himself up the side, thinking that Hogwarts definitely delivered on the unforeseeable situations. He briefly wondered at how odd it was that if he was ever playing "I Never", and someone said scale the outside of the castle with a sticking charm, he would have to take a drink. 'Wow. I really have a strange way of putting things in perspective.'

Reaching the corridor's roof, Harry army crawled up the incline and then slid down the opposite side. He realized that this was going to be the tricky part and slowed down. Placing his feet first, Harry slowly made his way down, back to the wall. He came up alongside the row of windows and stopped, feet flat on the wall, knees bent, and one wrist splayed out for support as the other drew his wand. Two flicks later and Harry was inside. He dropped into the nearly empty room smirking, humming to himself, "duh dun duh….duh duh duh dun….duuun dun dunnn duh…"

'I am so cool.' He thought smugly to himself. His eyes and magical senses roamed the room, settling on the oversized antiquated mirror looming over against the left wall. Harry raised an eyebrow, gliding a little closer to the thing, intent on discovering why the headmaster wanted his brother to find it, and how it was connected to the third floor.

There was an inscription cut across the top, the rustic letters blending with the varnished frame. "Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi"

It was in no language that Harry could recognize, which might mean language barriers weren't the answer. Well, next would be to think of different ways to read it- yes, it was backwards, Harry concluded with a victorious smile. It made sense since it was a mirror. Of course, after 4 months of answering riddles to get into his common room that was hardly a challenge. So; "I show not your face, but your heart's desire." Well that was…disturbing.

How? How would it know something like that? Well, actually, it might not. "Know" was probably the wrong word to use. Maybe "show" would be more appropriate. So some sort of enchantment on the glass, that projected for each individual what they desired most? It might work on the eyes, or brain. And each person would likely only be able to see their own desire. Harry shook himself; it was useless conjecture. An artifact as old and unique as this, the roots would likely be impossible to track. And besides, Harry was only stalling himself. The question was: should he step forward, or back? Could he?

The truth was, Harry was a little apprehensive, scared even, of what he might see reflected on that glass. The inscription was pretty straightforward, and Harry doubted it would show only what one wanted to see. That knowledge, good or bad, was so deeply personal. Harry was comfortable with himself, but what if it showed his weaknesses, his vulnerability? Did he know himself that well, that completely? Did he accept all of him? And were it to be undeniably shoved in his face, could he? Even now, in his own mind, he ignored the harsh truth. Something that he always knew, at a very deep level, but stayed clear of confronting even in his thoughts.

Harry sat out of range back and to the side, staring at that silvery pane of glass for close to 20 minutes, deliberating. He wasn't sure he wanted to look.

Finally when the cold had seeped through to his toes, Harry stood, silent in the darkness. It wasn't about what he wanted. He had to do this. A second passed. Then another. Harry, stepped slowly before the mirror.

Involuntarily, a hungry smile spread across his features. There he was, in all his glory. He no longer stood in the shadows, but at the center of it all. He was surrounded by a fair few number of people, some he could recognize, and some he couldn't. The one thing they all had in common was their clear influence or power. And every single one of them were looking upon Harry with awe and respect, as well as…deference? That was odd. But it also felt right somehow, like he knew it would. Harry had grown magnificently. Whereas now he had a lot of height, but was by no means the tallest, the mirror-him towered above everybody, not a hint of a slouch in his posture. He wore fine but simple robes, that emphasized his powerful build perfectly. And in his eyes lay no fear, no doubt. No insecurity, or self depreciation. Not the slightest flicker of hesitancy or discontent.

All around the scene it was apparent how pervasive magic was. It was in everything; the plants, the people, the air. The strength of magic had returned to how it was in times long past.

Harry stared unblinking, enraptured with this dream. This teasing glance of what the future might be, if only Harry could reach it.

Suddenly, as his gaze swept the group over his shoulder, he caught a flash of red. His smile slipped, replaced with his mask as he recoiled slightly. That little…thing that he had worried about, it was there. No matter how strongly he wished it hidden, still it was there.

Lily Potter. His mother. She was ignoring everything that was going on around her, instead focusing her attention on Harry. On Harry, and no other. Her eyes, once so identical to his own, were bright, shining with the love and pride only a mother could feel. A look he had seen on her face countless times, but only for Casey.

Harry stumbled back, tearing his gaze from the damnable mirror. He leant his forehead against the freezing glass of the window, eyes closed. His breathing began to slow, and suddenly he hit the window with the open palm of his hand. It felt good so he did it again. His eyes opened slowly, gazing out over the winter forest, trying in vain to spot the area he had housed the pups in the leafless trees and lightly falling snow. Harry shook his head and let out a bitter chuckle.

He was always so put together, so composed. Now that he was at school, living alone, he was letting go of his past and looking towards his future. Bullshit. He was still the same little boy with the same damn weaknesses. It ate at him that he still craved their acceptance, their love. He hated it. He hated them for it. For holding that over him, even if they didn't know it. For not giving it to him in the first place, like family was supposed to. And he loathed himself for not being able to let it go. Although he supposed it wasn't the whole family. According to the mirror it was only her.

His distress was quickly turning to anger, and Harry fueled it as much as he could. Anger was easier to deal with. Harry quickly picked up his cloak, throwing it over his leather jacket and moving to the ledge. He needed to break something.

-.x.X.x.-

A few days later, Harry decided to go visit Fluffy. Tucked under his arm was a light concave panel, meant to share images or illusions of a sort. Pensieves, while not exactly rare, weren't common either. And they were anything but cheap. This threadbare alternative required a lot more spell work and finesse from the user, and only replicated the base functions. Harry would work it, and images of the pups as they were now would play above it. He might be acting foolishly in sharing it with the Cerberus, but Harry had a feeling the guardian would appreciate it. Besides caring for his children, this was Harry's more immediate offering to Fluffy in an attempt to coax him into letting Harry down the trap door.

After everything he saw in the mirror, and the emotionally draining destruction he had reigned upon the dungeon storage room afterwards in a "training session", Harry had relaxed and thought about it some more. While it still burned at him as much as it could with everything still locked down with his Occlumency, Harry was working on accepting and resolving this part of himself. Still, in an effort to get away from the turmoil it brought up, Harry decided to think about the Philosopher's Stone mystery and what he was going to do about it, if anything. Then, of course, it had occurred to him that he couldn't answer that question if he had no clue what the parameters of said mystery actually were.

The pups were doing great in the forest. Thriving, actually. With a steady source of food to hunt, and endless room to run and play and explore the world, they were growing at an alarming rate. He had lately been trying to come up with names. So far, he was trying his best to not give in to the temptation to name them Jake and Elwood, not entirely sure they would appreciate his pop culture obsession, but it was a losing battle. Still, better than Fluffy.

When Harry walked into the room, he was struck by Fluffy's size. He hadn't really got a good measure of it last time, but…damn. The growling had stopped once he recognized Harry and now he was watching him silently, right head tilted inquiringly while the middle stared unblinking and the left surveyed the room, ever watchful. Harry strode to the center and arranged the panel, then took out his wand and placed the tip to his temple. Fluffy took a few steps closer, interested to see what Harry was doing.

Depositing the silvery strand in the indent, it slowly clouded over and covered the entire surface, becoming mirror like when it stopped. Harry stood back and aimed his wand. "Agnosco." He murmured. Immediately pearly shapes rose into the air, swirling around a bit before they solidified into Jake and Elwood…er, into the pups. The color and detail came next, until they were basically illusions, chasing each other around the room. They were bigger now, about chest height to Harry. Jake's tendency to pounce was becoming astronomically more painful. Harry kept his concentration on maintaining the spell, but stole a glance up at Fluffy. All six eyes were riveted on the memory, soaking it in, and he stood unmoving, which for a Cerberus his size was very disconcerting.

Harry held it for as long as he could, and when the images faded and Fluffy turned to look at him, he knew it wasn't stupid. It was worth it. Somehow he knew that Fluffy appreciated it. Harry nodded and sat down, taking a small break before he tried to get down the trapdoor. He was broken from his reverie when he was nudged by a paw about the size of his body. Fluffy snorted and moved off the trapdoor. After a moment, Harry let out a barking laugh almost identical to his godfather's. "Am I that transparent?"

Revealing spells indicated no other alarms on the hatch, so he propped it open and looked down. Into nothing but pitch black darkness. "Well, here goes nothing." One cushioning charm later Harry leapt off into the unknown.

Harry touched down gracefully, pulling his large black hood up and twirling his wand to create the orb of light that would follow him through the rest of the defenses. When the soft pale light sprung into being, the black rooted vines that had been stealthily entwining themselves around Harry's boots quickly retreated. Taking only a few seconds to recognize the Devil's Snare, Harry couldn't help but snort derisively. 'Right. Because having the first defense as a plant that shies away from light, when casting some kind of light is going to be the first thing anyone does after dropping into a pitch black abyss, just makes SO MUCH bleeding sense.' They should've capitalized on making the potential thief drop into the unknown, specifically that most wouldn't be able to stop from landing in or through some kind of ward or trap set at the bottom. In fact, Dumbledore could've put his little magic block trap at the bottom. That would not only almost certainly stop them, but also ruin their lives. Try to steal the Philosopher's Stone, lose your magic.

Harry may be mild mannered most of the time, but once one made a move against him or his, he would be absolutely ruthless in his response. Dumbledore's would have to be a long-delayed revenge, but when Harry took it, it would be brutal; the old man would know pain and fear before the end.

'Focus. Here and now.' Harry stalked down the narrow vine gilded passage and brief flight of stairs, rounding the curved dark hallway to emerge in a dimly lit room of fluttering winged keys and a door. Knowing it probably wouldn't work, Harry pointed his wand at the door. "Alohamora." Nothing. Harry nodded to himself, mentally marking more powerful unlocking charms to the list of things to learn. Now he could either try a method of picking locks Sirius had taught him that involved pushing one's magic into the lock mechanism and tinkering with it, which might not work if it was a particularly strong spell holding the door, or he could go through the defense as a potential thief was meant to. Harry could feel the magic on the broom; the rickety old thing had more enchantments on it keyed to the keys than it had for flight. Obviously once he touched it, all would not be well.

Harry lowered his hood for greater visibility, sharp eyes quickly locating the old fashioned rusted specimen with silver wings. "Impervious." He muttered, working the spell over all vulnerable areas of his body. Sharp agile little devils? Yeah three guesses what was about to happen, and the first two don't count. Harry would rather not get torn to bits.

Quickly mounting the broom, Harry was halfway to the old key before the swarm converged on his prone form. It was hard to resist the reflex to swat at them, but the Impervious charm did its job. Harry gave chase gracefully, twisting around the pinecone style pillars with finesse. Just because Casey had never witnessed Harry on a broom didn't mean he couldn't fly. His natural ease in the air was one of two things he had seemingly inherited from James Potter, that he didn't mind. The other was his formidable height.

Up ahead of him, the key took a left, preparing to twist and dive back down. Harry grinned. "Too wide." He cut into the arc, hooking a single finger through the open end effortlessly and flipping over to plunge back down to the ground. Harry flew straight at the door and swerved, keeping it horizontal as he ground to a halt. The force from the sudden stop didn't jar his arm at all as it brought his wand to bear and he unleashed an overpowered knock back jinx at the crowd of golden pursuers. They were all buffeted back, disoriented long enough for Harry to unlock the door and fly through.

He came upon a room lit with various open flames, reminiscent of post-destruction battlefield. Various scattered stone body parts lay in eerie backdrop to the sides, the floor itself having been made into a giant chessboard spanning the room, and equally giant stone pieces with real weapons were lined up and ready. McGonagall, that's who designed this one. Harry filed away the information that the woman was apparently as well versed in charms as she was in transfiguration. This challenge was well thought out, and much more serious than those before. Playing across the board would take time; time that, had the potential thief come through the door, one would not have. And in the rush, mistakes were likely to be made. This might be a challenging obstacle…if they hadn't just given him a broom in the previous room. Harry let out a long-suffering sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head, oddly enough disappointed in this whole thing.

Honestly, were these people stupid? Obviously the Headmaster wanted Casey to be able to get through, but what of the teachers that set the traps? Could they not see and draw attention to the many flaws, numerous and glaring as they were? Or were they in on the ruse as well? Or perhaps Harry was selling them short. It was possible that there was another factor he was unaware of.

Not having had cause to dismount, Harry flew across the board near the ceiling. The pawns crossed swords in protest, but he was in the air so it was pointless. The larger pieces were becoming visibly upset and the black pieces were laughing at the whole thing, so Harry just slipped through the other door.

The odor hit first, but the visual wasn't far behind. Two Mountain Trolls, each even larger than the one from Halloween paused in their pacing to stare at him comically. Before they regained whatever wits they possessed and thought to attack, Harry made with quick precise wandwork, using his tried and true Incarcerous/transfiguration combo to tie them down with steel bonds and fly to the other end. He couldn't kill and claim these, it would be much too conspicuous. 'Oh, the Trolls are gone? Hmm, let's see, who has a history of killing Trolls and happens to be staying over break?'

Harry set the broom down when purple flames sprung up behind him, followed by black before him. Purple and black were generally the more…serious of magical flames. In the midst of the room stood a wooden table with seven bottles and a small scroll. Taking a look at the riddle, Harry simplified it. Ok, so one for each direction, three poison, two wine. Harry cast a few advanced component analyzing charms over the bottles, and raised an eyebrow at the results. The parchment may say three were poison, but the spells said differently. They were all poisoned, in one way or another. Ah, good old Snape. At least someone was actually trying to protect the stone. Dark wizards were just so much more realistic; poison and questionable flames, was it weird that Harry was feeling more comfortable now?

Harry deduced that the large one was meant to transport the user back through the purple flames, and the small one forward through the black. Now here was the real riddle. If one were to go onward, succeed, and make it back out, only then would they come out unharmed. The component in the large bottle neutralized that in the small. Only thing was, judging by the runes circling the room, on the way back the flames would be reversed. The thief's only options would be to go back and be stuck, burn, or sit and succumb to poison. Alone, that in the large bottle was a very slow acting poison, no doubt meant to allow those coming to check defenses time to get to the hospital wing. It would also explain why the bottle was so big. There was only enough for one drink in the small bottle, and Harry couldn't let his presence be known.

It took about fifteen minutes of sitting to come to a tentative solution, and even so he was about to take a big risk. Purple and black were the most dangerous of magical flames, but because of this they were also closely related. It was this Harry was basing his solution off of.

Harry took a larger-than-necessary gulp of the potion for the purple flames, the Ankh pendant burning against his chest as he ingested the poison. Weaving a flame-freezing charm after casting the one to draw in moisture, Harry walked through the black flames. It felt wrong-he could feel the fire licking at his body, just barely being repressed by a barrier. But then he was out, wiping his forehead in relief, and looking upon what was undoubtedly the final room.

The mirror? It was the mirror? 'You have got to be freaking kidding me.' It had to have been moved very recently. Which meant that Casey had to have found it right before the hols, and Dumbledore had only now gotten the chance to relocate the thing down here. Had Harry not been walking by that night, he likely wouldn't have ever seen the thing except for down here. Then again had he not had to deal with what he had learned, he very well might have left it all alone. What were the odds?

On one hand, Harry wouldn't have had to see the mirror's tantalizing glimpse of what could be marred by Harry's one very critical unrealized vulnerability. On the other, had he not…well then, it likely would have come to haunt him with more severe consequences later. And he wouldn't be kindling this newfound determination.

Acutely aware he had to be swift if he were to get back to his room where an antidote to the poison waited before he felt any ill affects, especially since he was going to Malfoy Manor later, Harry approached the mirror he had discovered a few days ago.

He stood before it without really looking at what it showed, instead fully extending his magical senses. He was assaulted with the mass array of magic contained in the mirror, and had to stand for a few moments adjusting, similar to when you go from a dark room to having the lights flicked on full blast.

When it had calmed, it remained overwhelming. Harry frowned in thought, then tapped his wand to his temple. What he did wasn't opening the magic to the visible spectrum. Seeing magic was a very rare and difficult thing to accomplish. The intent worked with his Occlumency to give visual representation to his mind of what he was feeling with his senses. Most base example: if Harry thought of an alert ward as a red light, it would appear as a red light, and similar things would appear similarly. Also, if he was missing something with his magical senses, he wouldn't be able to see it, since there was nothing of it in his mind for the spell to visualize.

Harry swished his wand, focusing on recently cast magic, that which wasn't inherit in the object. Most of the lights and webs faded away, leaving quite a few enchantments, but a much more workable number. And they all bore the same signature. Assuming it to be Dumbledore's, Harry catalogued it. A fair few remaining were surveillance or alert oriented. Harry needed to keep those in sight to navigate around them, but made a loose corkscrew motion to make them a pale translucent background image.

Make no mistake, Harry was out of his depth by this point, but he hadn't come all this way for nothing and so kept at it, trying to manipulate the magic in a way that made sense to him. What he was left with was…interesting. There were two…compartments, he guessed would be a good word. They appeared as two round orbs in the mirror, greenish blue in color, the various magic worked around them. Harry could guess the purposes, but didn't exactly recognize them. Some would be the dimensional space modifiers to house a three dimensional object in a mirror. Others would be for the actual housing, and still others for the retrieval.

The two were not connected directly, but both had pathways leading to a common point. The "exit" point, if Harry had to guess. The path to the left orb was brighter, suggesting that the other was possibly dormant for the moment. What Harry uncomfortably labeled the retrieval magic on the left seemed to be intent operated, but beyond that Harry couldn't tell. Perhaps storage was a feature of the mirror and Dumbledore only needed the one compartment? But no, this was all recently done, so Dumbledore had created both. So how did the other fit into it?

Peering closer, Harry took note of a small sliver near the "exit" that was attached to the retrieval, and had roots between both pathways. Harry held his wand still and slowly twisted it to the right. As he did so, the visual zoomed in, offering a closer and larger view.

Harry froze. A slow smile began to spread across his face, downright sinister in its victorious glee. He could recognize the function of that sliver, and it solved the entire puzzle for him as far as he was concerned. He had found that other factor. And it changed everything. The old man was clever, Harry would give him that. But this also brought the Stone into the realm of "accessible" to Harry. Almost on their own volition, various schemes and plans began forming in the back of his mind, some being discarded, others rethought to expand upon. Even now, Harry already could see where this was going, and smirked viscously.

Checking the time, Harry swished his wand and cancelled his special vision. Dumbledore and whoever the thief was wouldn't know what hit them when the time came, but right now, Harry had a party to get ready for.

-.x.X.x.-

"Ma'am." He said, again taking her hand in his own and brushing his lips over her knuckles. "Thank you very much for your invitation…s."

Her luscious lips quirked up into a dazzling smile. She tilted her head, that same gorgeous smile gaining a chiding and victorious edge.

Harry was dressed smartly in a simple tuxedo under black dress robes. Honestly, since he was only eleven Harry didn't feel the need to dress up, just nice. He had just arrived in the opulent foyer of Malfoy Manor, and waited briefly while the guests ahead of him were greeted by the Lord and Lady of the house. For the day he had had and the poison he had drank, Harry felt surprisingly energized.

Although Yuletide was a very festive holiday, it was a very black tie affair, as nearly everything was in pureblood society. The guests were all prim and polished, although none more so than Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. The couple stood regally at the entrance to the ballroom, where Harry was now exchanging his own pleasantries. He had shared a few overly formal polite words with Lucius, who admittedly cut an impressive figure. Not a strand of his sleek blonde hair was out of place, and he stood tall in immaculate deep charcoal grey robes, glossy leather boots, and snakehead cane. However, it was his wife who drew the attention and kept it.

She wore a provocative bright red dress. The kind of dress that most women were afraid of; and the majority of those that weren't, should have been. She wore it effortlessly, her natural beauty outstripping it by a mile. Oh, it was an expensive high class little number, to be sure. But conservative would be one of the last words to ever use in its company. It clung tightly to her frame, the neckline showing an amount of cleavage that defined the line between alluring class and immodesty. The back dipped even lower, exposing smooth flawless skin that damn near glowed, ending teasingly at the beginnings of her curves but still a ways from her hips. It clung to those too, but of a different fashion. Whereas near her chest the dress was smooth and tight, it loosened and bunched at her waist, resting lightly on her sensually flared hips, before falling in varying lengths around toned and tanned legs as smooth as the rest of her; the lowest part somewhere behind her left leg almost to her ankle, the highest only coming mid thigh. Accompanied by minimal jewelry in the form of a few golden bangles around her wrists, a thin anklet chain, and simple gold and diamond pieces in her ears, around her neck, and holding her hair together, Narcissa Malfoy wouldn't have looked out of place at an outdoor Salsa bonfire type party.

Supermodel lesbians could be making out with Veela on the other side of the hall, and still most of the room would be watching Narcissa, Harry included. He was starting to feel a little pity for Draco.

"It was my pleasure, Hadrian, I assure you." She responded. "I'm only glad you decided you could make the time."

Harry kept his composure, smiling politely. "You can hardly blame me for being wary, milady."

She just laughed, conceding his point. "Yes, well, I do hope we can move past some of those walls tonight, hmm?"

Harry bowed his head slightly and began moving forward before he could hold up the queue too long. "I look forward to it."

"Oh, Hadrian, before you go in...have you been taught how to dance?"Harry hesitated for about three seconds. 'Lie. Don't lie. Lie. You can't lie.'Harry mentally ceded to the second voice. It was something there really was no getting out of. "Yes." He said slowly, victorious chiding smile was back, although this time with a distinctly more smirk-like lilt to it. "Perfect." she said, eyebrow tilted and eyes dancing. He should have lied.

The ballroom was decorated magnificently. It was grand and wide open, long food tables over to one side and smaller rounded tables with chairs on the opposite side. There was a bar and lounge area, undoubtedly where the politicians would be mingling. A large crystal chandelier hung high overhead, and directly below it the pyre for the Yule log to be lit later that evening. Large western facing windows offered a clear view of the already long-dark sky, the last vestiges of light having disappeared more than two hours ago.

They had all the traditional food and drink; a succulent looking turkey already carved into slices and various pork dishes, assorted fruits and nuts, and of course the desert stuff, cookies and cider-soaked caraway cakes. There were also rolls, potato salads, and other less traditional harvest foods. Teas, ciders, and lots of alcohol rounded it out.

About half an hour into it, Harry finally spotted someone he knew in the form of Blaise, who was standing with his back to Harry and talking to Draco Malfoy. Remembering how Blaise had whined about Harry's sudden appearance in the entrance hall before the sorting, Harry grinned before making his way over unnoticed. He slinked up behind him, sliding into the spot right next to Blaise, before announcing himself. "Evening, boys. Lovely party, isn't it?"

To his credit, Blaise tensed but did not jump. He also refrained from glaring at Harry. Draco, however, had no experience with Harry's entrances and subsequently dropped his plate.

Ignoring this, Harry raised an eyebrow in Blaise's direction, challenging and inquiring. Blaise responded in kind, buffing his nails on his chest. Harry snorted.

"How'd you do that?"

"I told you-"

"No, not that. Ignore Draco's tirade for making him drop his plate."

Harry grinned, looking over at the food table where Draco had stomped off to get a new plate. "Oh that. Well, I haven't had a chance to throw a jibe at his dad yet, so I figured I'd ruffle princess's feathers."

Blaise laughed, "Don't like Malfoys, huh?"

"Well." Harry began, turning to look across the room, "Not all Malfoys."

Blaise followed his gaze and nodded in agreement. "I hear you there, mate."

"And it's not like I have a real problem with Draco, either. Something about the way he struts around, I find it freaking hilarious. So I guess it's just Lucy."

"Try not to do that again tonight, will you Potter?" Draco announced his presence by asking irritably.

"Sure thing Malfoy."

"So…Draco…" Blaise began, his lips twitching. Draco cut him off, apparently at his wits end.

"If you're about to make a comment about my mother, Zabini, just save it. To hell with this party, I will pull my wand and blast you clear across the room." He said scowling.

Blaise was now full on smirking. "No need to be so touchy, Draco, I was only going to compliment the Lady on her beauty. Nothing…vulgar, I assure you." Now Harry was smirking. 'Yeah, right.'

"Well gentlemen, as fascinating as this is," Harry downed his drink, not believing he was actually going to be the one to initiate this, "I think I'm going to ask the most beautiful girl here to dance." Harry paused, about to leave, and slid his eyes over to Draco, grinning. "Besides our lovely host, I mean."

Blaise broke out into a smirk again, laughing. Draco scowled some more, although mostly for show. He flicked one of the little cakes at Harry, which he dodged. "Oh, sod off."

The two watched as Harry glided straight across the room and right up to Daphne Greengrass.

"No way."

"Oh, he's got some stones."

They could see him exchange a few words with her parents and little sister, and then turn completely to Daphne, holding out his arm in clear invitation. After a few seconds and a raised eyebrow on her part, she took it.

"Son of a bitch!" Draco exclaimed.

Blaise shook his head, looking about the room for other attractive females. Harry had the right idea. "Yeah, he does that." And with that he moved towards Nora Moon, his Italian accent suddenly making a mysterious reemergence.

Harry led Daphne out onto the floor and the two easily joined in rhythm, going with the crowd. Harry completely ignored all the eyes on them, partly because of who he was, and partly because they were so young, and Daphne soon followed his example. Harry was determined to have fun tonight.

-.x.X.x.-

"It was very enjoyable, milady, but I fear the rest of the guys may mob together should I keep you to myself much longer." He said with a winning, charming smile. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. "But I had a lot of fun."

She snorted, but gave the slightest of smiles. Hey, from the Ice Queen, he'd take it. "Good sir, it was…fun. If it looks like they're still too afraid to approach me after awhile, do me a favor and come save me, yeah?" She looked around at all their classmates, still with her hands on his arms. "And if they aren't, then thanks for opening the door. I do love to dance, and would be most grateful if you came back later this evening."

Harry bowed his head, kissing her knuckles. Before he could leave, Daphne stepped closer with her hands on his shoulders and gave him the not-quite-as-common traditional kiss on the cheek. She gave in to the Slytherin compulsory need to smirk, although Harry found he didn't mind, and walked towards the food table. Harry shook himself out of his daze and smiled, setting a course for the newly free Morag MacDougal. All those people going on about how insane women were needed to get over themselves. Girls were awesome!

-.x.X.x.-

Harry leant against a wall, catching his breath and sipping at a glass of truly amazing apple cider. It was a wall right by a door leading out to a balcony and he had a pillar directly to his left. He wasn't hiding; he had finally gotten a break now that the music had stopped and everyone was waiting for the Yule log to be brought in. The celebration had really caught on, one of those where everyone starts to enjoy themselves regardless of their best efforts. Most were flushed, but not drained, from the dancing and were in small groups talking animatedly and getting a bite to eat. Harry, shockingly, had gladly stayed on the dance floor, making rounds with nearly every girl he had come across. Perhaps the magic of the holiday celebrating peace and happiness had caught him? Or maybe he just needed to unload after everything that had happened at the castle. Whatever the reason, Harry had danced with Daphne, Morag, Nora, Nora's older sister, Daphne's best friend Tracey, Daphne again, Daphne's little sister Astoria, and a handful of others. Hence, here he was leaning contentedly on the wall by himself.

It was in this pleasant haze that Harry caught sight of red and blonde working its way slowly through the fringe of the crowd in Harry's direction. Harry took a breath and set his face in a soft accepting smile. He waited for the Lady Malfoy patiently. She skirted the edge of the crowd, not stopping but slowing to shake hands and exchange pleasantries. She shared some joke with some politician, still moving towards him, but with her head turned away. Finally, she was free of the last of them and Narcissa turned forward, locking ice blue eyes onto his own.

She crossed the distance quickly without rushing, possibly afraid he would slip away if she didn't corner him, but she needn't have worried. Before he could speak, she situated herself against the pillar facing him and smiled. "Well, if Sirius could have seen you tonight, I'm sure he would have been inordinately proud." Harry closed his mouth, the generic "Good evening, My Lady." dead on his lips. She meant to make this informal then, casual. Harry relaxed and smiled ruefully, rolling his eyes.

Narcissa laughed a musical laugh. "You weren't staying out there and in the arms of so many young women in an effort to avoid me, by any chance?" Harry shook his head, grinning unrepentantly. "I would never dream of avoiding your company, Lady Malfoy. It just kind of happened, I honestly can't believe I danced at all, actually."

"Hadrian, please. If you cannot call me Narcissa, Mrs. Malfoy will have to do. Too much of this Lady stuff in one day…" She gave a light shudder. Harry blushed and looked away towards the bricks where they were now setting the new log. That shudder had done…interesting things. Seeing this, Narcissa gave a sexy smirk but said nothing, following his gaze. That was it, Harry clamped down with his Occlumency. He was going to need it; that smirk… The Slytherins at Hogwarts needed smirking lessons, they were obviously doing it wrong.

Using his mind magic, Harry quickly calmed and gave his charming smile. He adopted his smooth, unassuming voice. "Well then, Mrs. Malfoy. You were quite adamant to get me here…here I am."

She shook her head, taking a drink from her own glass. "I said that I would not pry. Not just yet, at any measure. So, I just want to talk. Maybe a few things about yourself? Although I am very glad you decided to join us tonight, Mr. Potter."

They fell into a surprisingly easy silence as they watched last years log be brought in, still engulfed in the purple flames of Gubraithian fire. It was set down next to the new log on the marble pyre right in the center of the ballroom. The guests all quieted, a magical hush sweeping the celebration as the Lord Malfoy and Lord Selwyn stepped into place, the keeper of the home and bringer of the new log respectively. Next year, the Selwyns would host Yule and Lord Selwyn would perform the ritual with the next log giver.

This, as most of the old holidays, was steeped in symbolism. The magic recognized them looking towards the future, almost a communion vow to keep it alive and thriving. The two men raised their hands, eyes closed. No words were spoken, but the magic in the air jolted, thrumming powerfully, reverberating throughout every person's being and resonating in their cores, cleansing and renewing. Harry gasped silently, the block on his core straining painfully. He grit his teeth and opened his mind and intentions to the magic, bearing the pain and willing it to pass unhindered.

Beside him Narcissa turned curious concerned eyes onto him, placing a hand on his back. When she caught what his mind was broadcasting, she frowned.

Malfoy and Selwyn began to hum low in their throats, and slowly those around them began to as well, the vibrating sound catching in an ever-expanding circle until all the guests were participating, even Harry. The burning log jerked into the air, hovering about eight feet above the pyre. It was haloed in a soft golden light, fading into the spectrum ever brighter. The flames extricated themselves from the log that had been alight for a year, coalescing upwards in a smoke-like manner to hang suspended. The other lights in the room dimmed, leaving flickering iridescent violet light reflecting off hundreds of wonder filled eyes. Harry's eyes shot open, his chest burning and lips parted.

The golden light invaded the log the flames had just left, and it flared. Even as it faded back, the log began to change. It began falling apart, and fell onto the new one, but before the ashes hit they transformed into the trimmings. On the wings of the ashes rose the blessing of magic unto the new year. Where before the log had sat plain, it was now doused in the traditional cider and ale and dusted with flour, arrayed around it were evergreen boughs twined with holly, pine, and cinnamon. The flames flickered to a merrily cackling orange, reverting to normal fire before descending on the log in full. At the end of the twelve days of smoldering the Gubraithian fire would be born again. The rebirth of the Sun, celebrated on the longest night of the year.

The magic settled, and Harry slumped back, Narcissa catching his glass and gracefully guiding him to the wall, shielding his form from view.

Everyone began to move out onto the patio and grounds for the nighttime part of the celebration. It proved false all notions that purebloods were all cold, heartless, single minded bastards. There were games for the children (and some of the adults), a live band, the magical boats were giving rides for couples across the small lake, and everyone was having a merry time.

Harry was still reeling from the way the magic brought on by the ritual had pulled at his block, and trying to make sense of the results while simultaneously rapidly repairing the defenses around his mind. It felt…closer, more comfortable, but at the same time Harry had no idea what had happened; it would take some experimentation later.

'But speaking of the block,' Harry thought, eyeing Narcissa who was now staring at him intently, 'oh crap.'

"I'm sure it is a riveting tale." She spoke calmly, "Perhaps for tomorrow morning. Or another time. For now, tell me about yourself. I went through all the considerable effort to get you here Hadrian, I would like to know just who the heir to my family is. Come," She continued, skillfully maneuvering him out with the others and to the large white tent literally lit by hundreds of frolicking fairies, "you can tell me while we dance."

Harry stared at her for a moment, immensely relieved she wasn't digging on this now. "Harry, ma'am. You may call me Harry, if you'd like." He was answered with curved lips and soft eyes. "Harry, then. Come."

The party was treated to the somewhat amusing sight of Narcissa Malfoy leading the Potter boy onto the dance floor, the first to take it up since the log lighting.

From where they were seated with, much to Blaise's displeasure, Parkinson and Nott, Draco and Blaise watched with wide unbelieving eyes. 'That's it. Harry's my new role model.' Blaise thought to himself.

"Damn. Hey-"

"Not a word, Zabini. Not. A. Word."

A/N: Yes, I know I left out what Harry found in the mirror. This is my first pathetic attempt at suspense. More next chapter, all to be revealed in ch. 9. And yes, the intent based retrieval magic was the whole "want to get the stone, but not use it".

Harry had to open his mind to the magic during the ritual, and with the connectivity and communion aspects of it mixed with Narcissa's Legilimency skill and proximity to Harry, it was clear to her.

Please don't mistake Harry and Narcissa's relationship at this point. A lot of what we've seen so far has been the high-class courtesy and formal manners, some other has been her curiosity, but it's not all ambition and plotting. There is still a measure of genuineness. They are both kind of intrigued by the other, and things like sentiment after the ritual-that's sympathy and understanding, not a plot.

Hmm, I didn't mean to hint at any sort of sentience to Magic yet, it just kind of happened. It will be introduced slowly, and won't be really explored for a long time yet.