Disclaimer - I fully intended to have this up by Halloween. I am terrible with deadlines

Uzumaki Hari and the Squib of Hogwarts
Fighting Monsters

"He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you."
-Friedrich Niezsche

With his feud with Hermione resolved, his fears of being discovered as a Squib assuaged and his initial profiles completed, Hari found himself with no pressing matters to attend to. He quickly set about trying to organize his schedule into something reasonable. Fortunately, he had a large number of projects to keep himself busy. He had his underwater potions lab to manage, his professor's lesson plans to steal, and now he was periodically taking brooms from various broom closets for training.

That last one had also introduced him to the ins and outs of broom closet romances, which seemed to be awkward attempts at sexual intimacy by immature boys and girls further complicated by the constrained space of a Hogwarts broom closet. The only thing more awkward than the groping going on within them, was his own experience witnessing one such encounter first hand while hiding in a corner behind a bundle of brooms.

The brooms had proven very useful. After his flight around Hogwarts with his father, Hari had been thinking of all the best ways he could use his newfound powers of flight to his advantage. Being able to cross long distances quickly was obvious, as was being able to flawlessly maneuver in the air and strike from elevation. It didn't take long for him to affix a kunai at the neck of the broom and incorporate the acceleration he could command into a fighting style. He would like to get some more guidance from Tenten or Gai-sensei, but the rudimentary technique would have to suffice until he returned home.

In addition, he also had Quidditch practice to attend. Captain Kyle had the team practicing four nights a week for two hours each night. The only night he had off was Wednesday, which was fortunate, given that was his night at the Astronomy Tower. Practices mostly involved warmups to work on flight endurance. This was probably the hardest part for Hari, as it required lots of sharp turns that normal riders decelerated and accelerated through. For him, it meant whipping the wild broom around at high speeds, and being too slow meant careening out of control. After getting chewed out by Kyle at the first practice, Hari stayed behind and figured out a proper wind technique to stabilize his hairpin turns. It was a massive drain of chakra, but he had chakra to burn, so he wasn't too worried.

After warmups ended, he typically would pair up with Kyle or Beth and they would drill him on evasive maneuvers. Both beaters were fearsome in their own way. Kyle was a massive man, capable of sending a bludger at remarkable speed, and he used his size to dominate the matches he was in. Beth, on the other hand, was small, but she was smart and perceptive. She could assess the entire pitch within seconds and deduce the opposing team's game plan. She could play mind games with Hari, and had a wealth of sneaky tricks to employ against him. When he practiced against the double team, he was struggling to stay in the air. The two coordinated wordlessly, but when Kyle's strength and Beth's tactics were both in play, Hari was never able to focus on finding the snitch for more than a few seconds. Quidditch practice proved to be quite useful at training Hari on aerial combat.

Of course, all of the training on the broom necessitated him redoubling his efforts towards unlocking the potential of his wind techniques. Originally he had been working on learning how to create the slicing gales that his father was known for, but now integrating wind techniques with his broom techniques seemed just as important. Fortunately, creating larger currents required less control, but it was still an area he needed to improve if he was going to ever use a broom in a combat situation. He typically had a number of clones hidden around the castle working on this problem, periodically dispelling to aggregate the results of their training. It was a technique his father had used in learning his legendary Rasenshuriken, and while Hari hadn't approached that level of genius, he had managed come up with a method of sustaining a wind current technique. It was actually a rudimentary variation on the much more complicated Wind Dragon technique that was so popular in Kumo.

Of course, with all the time he was dedicating to training, he couldn't just ignore his classwork. Which was why he always set aside a random day of the week to focus on stealing as much information as he could from his professors. Professor Flitwick had grown more wary, but for all the very complicated wards he set up, they never seemed to work on animals. No one would want their alarm system tripping every time a mouse wandered into their office. Or, apparently, a snake, in Hebisoka's case. The purple serpent was able to easily infiltrate the office and provide Hari with a detailed recounting of the professors lesson plans. Armed with this knowledge, Hari was able to easily prove his competence as a first-year wizard, although he did catch Hermione giving him some uncomfortably curious glances from time to time.

Not that she had ever said anything about it. The girl had become frustratingly passive since they had become friends again. She hardly ever got onto him about his grades; she let both he and Ron walk all over her, and always spoke with an edge of fear in her voice. And as frustrating as that was, he also knew he was to blame. He had known from the first time she had met him on the train that she was socially awkward and desperate for friends. He knew when he broke his friendship with her that it would devastate her, and he had not cared at all. He had not paid any mind to what he might do to the bushy-haired girl, and now he had to live with his actions.

Perhaps worst of all, he had managed to spread his poor reputation to her. Apparently Padma used Pavarti to spread the Ravenclaw animosity to Gryffindor, and both Ron and Hermione had suffered for it. When he and Ron had thrown a party for Hermione's birthday, The only attendees were Hari, Ron, Penny and Percy, and Neville Longbottom. Longbottom might have been the only first-year lower on the social ladder than Hari, but for good reason. The kid was useless. He was as bad at classwork as Ron, but Ron at least had a backbone. It also didn't help that Hari knew Ron was hiding a genius mind, which he did not think Longbottom shared.

Ron was at least still himself. He often spent his evenings after Quidditch in the Great Hall with Ron playing a game of Chess. Hermione was usually on hand to watch, but the girl rarely engaged with them. Hari had been gradually upping his level of play against Ron, and the boy was learning at a remarkable rate. Hari was at the point where he felt it was just a matter of time before Ron took a game from him. It was fascinating watching his way of thinking shift. If only he could get the boy to apply that to other areas of his life. More and more, the young redhead reminded him of his lazy, genius uncle.

There was one more aspect of his training that had not been going well. It had been eight months since his father had started him down the path of learning the Rasengan, and he was still not ready to use it. His problem was speed. He could form the powerful blue sphere, but it took him and a clone thirty seconds of carefully building up the chakra while adding the swirling form. He kept trying to reduce the time, but it seemed like anything he did to speed up the process caused the sphere to collapse in on itself.

He was currently in a classroom on the fourth floor, surrounded by clones of himself. He was holding a small balloon filled with air, pushing chakra into it. A clone was standing by him, whipping his hands around the balloon, trying to form the chakra into the Rasengan. Hari could feel the excitement building up within him. It was fifteen seconds in and the Rasengan was almost complete. They were trying a new method which had Hari shape the initial load of Chakra, and it seemed to be working. A moment later the balloon popped unceremoniously. Hari stared at his hand as the scraps of rubber fell to the ground.

He had been working on this technique for eight months. When his father was his age, he mastered it in a week. He stared down at the large pile of rubber that had accumulated at his feet after hours of failure. In a fit of anger he grabbed a chair and flung it at he clone. The clone popped and the chair shattered against the stone wall. The rest of his clones disappeared, and their feelings of disappointment and anger piled on top of his own, magnifying his feelings. He slumped against a wall and took some deep breaths as tears of frustration leaked out.

He heard the door to the room open. He quickly wiped the tears away, and turned to see Hermione peek her head in. Her eyes were wide before she quickly looked away. He must have been an ugly sight. "Harry? Are…are you alright?"

Her timidity reminded him of his other failure, and a wave of self-loathing came over him. He took a calming breath before responding. "I'm…I'm fine, Hermione." It was a lie, and he knew she knew it was a lie, but somehow the truth of the matter wasn't something he wanted to discuss right now.

"I heard something break."

He nodded to the chair. "I was practicing some magic. I guess I did something wrong."

Hermione looked over to the scene and frowned. "I see. Do…" She paused. "Would you like some help?"

He was desperate for some help, but she couldn't give it to him. "I'm sorry, but this is something I need to learn on my own, Hermione." He hated denying her. It would only further her self doubt. "Thank you for the offer."

She gave a tiny nod. "If you need my help for anything, you know I will help." She chewed on her lip. "I won't tell anyone, I promise. I want you to trust me."

He'd heard this before. He had tried to tell her it was in the past, but she obsessed over it. "I do trust you, Hermione. I really do, I just…there are somethings I need to do on my own." He stood up and walked towards her.

She blinked. "Hari, do you have…are those tattoos?"

Hari froze. He was wearing a short sleeved shirt to train in, and he had lost track of it. He knew most people would question his seals if they saw them. He tried to calm himself. He had just said he could trust her, but actually trusting her was a bit harder than he realized. He twisted his arms to expose them to her. "Yeah. It's…they're something I keep secret. I…I trust you won't tell anyone about them?" He bit his lip in nervousness.

Hermione pinked slightly and nodded her head furiously. "Of course, Harry. I would never betray your trust." She let out a breath. "Will you be around after Quidditch practice tonight?"

He quickly gathered his school robes and put them on. "I wouldn't miss it."

Hari let out a sigh as he blocked an overhead strike from Firenze. The massive centaur continued to press the attack, allowing Hari to easily slip within his cover and land a point on his torso. Firenze took a step back from the blow and smiled warmly. "Very good, Harry. You just keep impressing me."

Hari grit his teeth in frustration. With a lack of Quidditch practice on Wednesday nights, he had been spending his evenings training with Firenze in the forbidden forest. Not having a good partner to spar and train with was one of Hari's bigger concerns with being sent away on such an long term mission, so he was hopeful when the big brute was able to hold his own in their first encounter.

Unfortunately, since then he'd been little better than a simpering sycophant, throwing slow attacks and overcommitting on all of his blows, all while praising Hari for every small success he achieved. The pandering smile that he always wore grated on every nerve Hari had. He had tried angering him, tried calling him out, tried speaking plainly, but the centaur never showed one ounce of the fervor he did when they first met.

Hari snorted. "Really? You think that was impressive? This is pathetic. You need to start taking this seriously or else I'm going to have to find someone else to train with." He stood up straighter. "Now let's try this again."

Firenze fought with renewed vigor. The two traded blows until one slipped past Hari's guard and caught him in gut. Firenze stumbled as he tried to pull the punch. He took a step back. Hari let out a grunt before slipping back into his stance. "Better." He threw himself back at Firenze, but the centaur had reverted to his weak passive fighting style. He seemed very concerned with Hari's well-being whenever they fought, which would be touching if not for the fact that Hari was so far past the level at which Firenze could fight.

After another dull minute, Hari's exasperation piqued. Firenze swung with a haymaker, which Hari easily avoided. He stepped into his guard and delivered a low punch into Firenze's knee. While off balance, he pulled the horse torso down, causing Firenze to collapse on his side. It was never good for a centaur to be on its side. The bulk of its lower half made getting up quite tricky. Hari pressed his knee into a haunch and held a kunai against Firenze's neck. "Pathetic." Firenze's eyes flashed with fear. "Whatever happened to the proud warrior who threatened to drag me out of his forest? As things stand, you aren't even worth my time."

Firenze looked up at Hari with wide eyes. "Wha-what's the meaning of this?"

Hari stared down at Firenze imperiously. "I'm putting an end to this nonsense. I come here every Wednesday night because I need to keep my skills sharp. I was more than happy with this arrangement when you showed promise, but lately you've been so passive and meek that I feel like I'm wasting my time." Harry added pressure to the blade. "And you've been keeping secrets from me, which I'm normally fine with. Keeping secrets is important, and I need you to keep mine. Lately, I'm starting to think this arrangement isn't really worth it. That said, I need to know what you know about me. So now, you're going to tell me."

Firenze licked his lips as he tried to scoot away from the kunai. "Harry, please. This is unnecessary."

Hari shook his head. "I'm tired of your honeyed words, Firenze. I'm tired of your patronizing praise. You know something about me. I'm important to you, and you will tell me why."

Firenze relaxed slightly. "Harry, you misunderstand."

Hari pressed harder. "I'm not playing around Firenze. You asked how I knew so much about combat. This is who I am. Do you think you are really valuable to me if I can't learn from you? You know too much about me. I was looking for an ally, but you just seem to be manipulating me for some unknown end." A thin stream of blood oozed out along the edge of the blade. "I need to know what that end is."

Firenze stopped breathing for a moment as he felt the blade cut into him. He nodded slightly and Harry relieved the pressure. He brought a hand up to his neck to cover the wound. He looked nervously at Hari for a moment before speaking. "There are a number of prophecies which surround you, Harry Potter. You are destined for great things, and I wanted to make sure you were prepared for your task."

Hari scoffed. "So you trained me ineffectively. Great plan, that one." Hari tapped his chin. "Nope, not buying it. This is much more personal than that. What's your angle?"

Firenze looked away. "This isn't personal. You have a great destiny about you, and I must see to it you succeed." Finally, someone who was worse at lying than he was.

Hari paused to consider the centaur. He'd acted with virulence at their initial meeting, but had immediately changed his personality as soon as he discovered who he was. Hari suspected that the destiny referred to the same prophecy Dumbledore had revealed. If so that meant Voldemort was involved. "You know what I think? You hate humans, because one of us killed someone you loved dearly. You think I'm going to help you get your revenge, which clearly motivates you. I've provided you a focus for that rage you displayed when we met." Firenze's lips tightened to a thin line. "I thought so. So why don't you tell me what's going on."

Firenze stared up at Hari for a minute, trying to take stock of the situation. Finally he spoke in a quiet voice. "There was a dark wizard many moons ago, and the stars spoke of you, and your power to defeat said wizard."

"Voldemort."

Firenze snarled. "Don't use that name."

Hari rolled his eyes. "Does it scare you too, Firenze?"

"No. It is a name of his own creation. A declaration of his power. I would never elevate a monster like him with such an ostentatious name."

Hari smiled. "Fine, but I don't know any better name to use." He paused. "So what makes you think that prophecy is still in effect? I mean, didn't I fulfill it when I was a child?"

Firenze nodded. "It is very likely that you did. However, if Dumbledore is so invested in you, perhaps there is more than meets the eye. He is a crafty man."

Hari frowned. "Yeah, tell me about it. I'm still trying to get the measure of him." A thought occurred to Hari. "So I take it Vold... he killed someone you love?"

"One of his lieutenants did."

"And you want revenge?"

Firenze took a deep breath. "I want to lead the tribe to war against those who evaded justice. I want to see everyone of them suffer for their crimes. But yes, I want him dead more than anything."

Harry grinned. "I may be able to help you with that." Hari scratched his chin. "Let's make a deal. I need someone I can trust here to tell me the straight truth. You provide me everything you know about the Dark Lord and his minions, and stop treating me like a child when we spar, and I promise I will get you your revenge." Hari pulled the knife away from his throat. "Do we have a deal?"

Firenze nodded slowly.

"Excellent. Now, let's start with your target. Who is it you want to kill?"

"He is a chairman in the Ministry. He oversees all relations with magical creatures. His name is Walden MacNair."

Ron stared at the board in front of him and chewed on his lower lip. Harry was playing a very aggressive game this time, developing his bishops before his defense was properly in place. He wanted desperately to get a turn ahead of him, but he had to respond to the threatening bishop. Had Harry predicted this? How many turns back had Harry started this offensive? Ron played the game backwards in his head. He could see Harry shifting to this five turns ago, with an unusual pawn advancement. Ron frowned, realizing just how badly outmatched he was.

Thoughts of inferiority consumed his mind lately. He knew he wasn't anything special. His siblings were all special in their own right. Bill was amazing at everything he did, and was now working as a treasure hunter. Charlie was just out of Hogwarts, and already had a job raising dragons at one of the best reserves in the world. Percy was a brilliant student and now a prefect. Fred and George were just third years and already local legends at Hogwarts. Everyone asked him if he knew what they were up to.

By contrast, he wasn't as adept with magic as Bill. Hermione had never seen magic before, but she was picked things up much quicker than he did. He wasn't as brave as Charlie despite being a Gryffindor. Hardly a day passed when something in Hogwarts didn't scare him witless. He wasn't as good a student as Percy, and it was unlikely he'd ever make prefect with as many points as he'd cost his house. He also wasn't building the reputation his twin brothers had. If anyone was earning that reputation, it was his mate Harry, who could get into all sorts of interesting scraps.

The one thing he had going for him when he came to Hogwarts was wizarding chess. Percy had taught it to him last year and he'd become really good at it. He could even beat Bill at it, which was something he'd never done before. That change when he came to Hogwarts and Harry had started playing with him. He had yet to beat the dark-haired Ravenclaw.

He looked up at Harry, who was staring down at the board with his hands clasped in front of his face. He was so intense when they played. He let out a sigh and turned his attention back to the board. He was left with a litany of bad options. This game was already over, and he was beginning to suspect that these games were over before they started. He let out a growl as he reached out and knocked over his king. "You win," he spat.

Harry looked up and frowned. "That was a bit premature. Are you okay, Ron?"

Ron looked away. "I don't see why you play this with me. It's not much of a game when you always beat me." He stood from the table to leave. He was ashamed of the fit he was throwing, but he needed to be away from this.

Harry spoke in a hard voice. "Ron, wait." Something in his tone made Ron stop. "You are really good at this game, and I want to help you get better. That's why I play with you."

Ron scowled. "But that's the thing! I'm not getting any better. I'm not anywhere closer to beating you than the first game we played."

Harry smiled. "You really think that? Take a seat Ron. I'm going to quickly show you what our first game looked like."

Ron sat down slowly as Hari reset the board. Hari began moving pieces in quick succession. Ron widened his eyes as he watched his side of the board start with a sloppy opening. He watched as he fell into the trap, and then he noticed something. "Wait."

Harry paused and smiled. "You see it now?"

Ron blinked. "I could've thwarted this with my knight. It would've cost you your queen."

Harry nodded. "It would've been bad for me if you could have seen that."

Ron was befuddled. "Wait, you knew, didn't you? What, were you playing down to my level?"

"I was playing down to your level, yes. More and more, it's getting to the point where you are playing up to my level."

Ron chewed on his lip. There were so many questions, but one rose to the top. "Do you have all our games memorized like that?"

"No, that was our first game, and I figured if you tried to quit, it would be valuable to show you how much you've improved. It's what my teacher did when I tried to quit on him."

Ron frowned. "Your teacher?"

Harry nodded. "An uncle of sorts. He taught me how to play this game. After a year of losing to him, I was ready to give up. He showed me the first game we played to show me how much I had improved."

Ron grinned. "And then eventually you beat him?"

Harry shook his head slowly. "No. I've never beaten him. I probably never will." Harry paused. "He's a genius. Like you."

Ron balked. "What? I'm not a genius, Harry. I'm...not doing great in class. Hermione's the genius."

Harry scratched the side of his head. "Hermione is...studious. And she's good at memorization and recalling things she's memorized. She's not as good at processing information. You are." He paused. "You know how I know? Do you know how long I've been playing games like chess? I started when I was six. Ron, I have a four year head-start on you and already you are almost playing at my level. Soon, I'll be struggling to win any game against you. You have an amazing talent."

Ron was shocked. He had never had anyone praise him like that. "Uh...thanks. I... That's nice of you to say."

Harry shook his head. "I'm not just saying it to let you feel better about yourself. I'm telling you that this is a special talent of yours. It would be smart of you to start exploiting it."

Ron frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"The world is full of mysteries and puzzles. It is a mind like yours that is skilled at putting the pieces to those puzzles together. Try applying the same skills you use to figure out chess to figure out class." Harry smiled. "Binns' class would be a good place to start."

Ron made a face. "History? That class is worse than Potions. Why should I care about that?"

Harry grinned. "Everything you learn in that class is a piece of a puzzle. Here's a puzzle I worked out a few weeks ago, but I think you should try to solve. Why are there so many Goblin Rebellions taught in history class?"

"What's that have to do with anything?"

"Think of it as a puzzle to solve. Next time you hear about a Goblin Rebellion, ask yourself, 'why did this happen?' Look for patterns and hints. Put together the pieces of the puzzle. Once you think you have an answer, come let me know. I'll show you my notes and we'll see how close our answers are."

Ron nodded slowly. "Alright. I'll try."

Harry started putting the chess pieces back in order. "You can worry about that later. For now, I think you owe me an honest game of chess."

Ron rubbed at his forehead in a vain attempt to soothe the building headache. Harry's assignment to uncover the cause of the Goblin Rebellions had seemed like such a silly thing when he started. At first he assumed uncovering such an important mystery would be nearly impossible, since if there was an obvious single cause that started the bloody wars, it was almost certain that adults would have figured it out and put a stop to them.

Which is why it was so frustrating that the answer seemed so easy. Every single Goblin Rebellion started after someone stole something from them. The pattern dated back over a thousand years and almost thirty separate rebellions. When he tried to talk to Hermione about it, she said that he wasn't following the text closely enough. When he asked Professor Binns about it, the ghost attributed it to the violent tendencies of the backwards goblin society. When he owled his father, he said that Goblins didn't really get along with wizards, which was what caused the bloody rebellions to spring up.

It wasn't until he wrote to his oldest brother that he found a sympathetic ear. His older brother agreed that he was on to something, but it might be worthwhile talking to a goblin about his theories. He recommended bringing his work to Professor Flitwick, who was a half-goblin.

He opened his eyes to see the short professor making his rounds to the various tables. Their discussion was not nearly as helpful as he had hoped. He presented Professor Flitwick with the notes he had taken, which the head of Ravenclaw had read in silence. When he finished, he had a flurry of questions for Ron. Why had he omitted the Goblin Massacre of 1435? Why did he ignore the Hufflepuff Accord which set the framework for Goblin-Wizard relations? Finally he asked about his explanation of a number of high profile thefts that didn't result in Goblin Rebellions. Ron was baffled for a moment, before Flitwick told him that uncovering answers to those questions would provide a clearer answer to his questions.

Flitwick stopped in front of him and Hermione with an expectant look. He attempted the charm again, with similar results. Flitwick frowned. "Your enunciation needs work, and your wand movement is too uniform. Flick, then swish." Ron nodded and looked down with despair at the stationary feather. "Now that I have seen what you are capable of Mr. Weasley, do not think that I will allow you to slide by in my classroom." Professor Flitwick moved on to the next desk while Ron let out a groan.

Hermione leaned forward and looked at him quizzically. "Ron, what did he mean by that?"

"Remember that stuff I was looking at about the Goblin Rebellions? I showed him some of my work. He sorta helped me with it, and told me it was really well-done." Ron smiled at the memory. Flitwick had given him twenty points for the work. He said that it was more promising than some of the research his NEWT students did.

Hermione frowned. "Well, I think he would be even more impressed if you actually managed to complete this charm he's assigned us. Now, let's try again, only more emphasis on the 'ah' sound."

He held his wand above his head. With a quick movement he tried again. "Wingardium Leviosa." The feather remained shook her head. "You must hear that? You pronounce 'gar' like it rhymes with 'air'. It needs to rhyme with 'car'." She paused. "And your wand strokes show no confidence. You wave it up and down like you are fanning someone."

Ron's headache beat against his forehead. "If it's so bloody easy, why don't you do it?"

"Ron, language!" She drew herself up. "Fine, I will show you." She moved the wand in her hand a few times, before finally attempting the spell. "Wingardium Leviosa!" The feather slowly rose into the air. She smirked at Ron as Professor Flitwick turned back to them. "Brilliant work, Ms. Granger. Five points to Gryffindor."

Hermione blushed at the praise, and gave Ron a significant look. Ron let out an aggravated sigh. Professor Flitwick continued. "Mr. Weasley, you would be wise to learn what you can from Ms. Granger."

The rest of the class was positively insufferable. Hermione was more than happy to give him loads of advice, none of which helped him get any closer to levitating the bloody feather. Worse, everything she said carried with it the smug satisfaction that, yet again, she was better than him. "Now Ron, you need a sharper flick, and a smoother swish. That's how it is done."

He let out a soft sigh as the bell mercifully signaled the end of class. He quickly packed up his books and walked out the door. Unfortunately, Hermione was right behind him. "Would you like to work on it before the feast tonight? I would be happy to help you figure it out."

Ron gritted his teeth as his head pounded. He turned his head. "Hermione, I'm trying very hard to be nice to you right now. But sometimes, you make it hard to be friends with you at all." She stopped in her tracks, and he pushed forward past her. He wasn't in the mood to deal with her at the moment. He just wanted to get away. A loud commotion drew his attention back as he witnessed Hermione dash off in the other direction, tears streaming down her face.

Ron let out a frustrated sigh. He knew he ought to go after her, try to correct things, but he didn't have the patience for her at the moment. He made his way back to the library, determined to uncover the answers to the questions Professor Flitwick laid out for him.

It was a melancholy day for Uzumaki Hari. While this world all celebrated his true birthday on July 31st, October 31st had always been the day he'd celebrated on. Apparently the wizards celebrated the day as a remembrance of "You-Know-Who's" downfall, and since he was such a key figure in the story, his morning mail had been a sizable pile of letters from various strangers. Amidst the well wishes was a letter Hedwig had delivered from his mother.

The envelope contained several sheets of paper, all covered with storage seals. Thankfully, Thursday mornings were an empty timeslot in his schedule, so it was easy for him to disappear into a forgotten corner of the castle. The seals contained gifts and letters from all the friends and family still in Konoha.

Shikamaru sent a small shogi set that could fold up and hold all of the pieces. Along with it was a small note that had an opening shogi move written on one side, and a conspicuous lipstick mark on the other. The note had a hint of perfume on it that he immediately recognized as the type Temari used on the one occasion he had witnessed her wear it. He blushed as he set the note aside.

Kiba and Konohamaru had sent him the latest issue of Kakashi's series "Blinded to Love". It was not nearly as raunchy as his other material, and it centered around two genin. One was a loud idiot who was completely oblivious to the kunoichi who was very clearly in love with him. The two had gotten him into the series after he became a genin, and he had been following it closely ever since. He was leafing through the book when he noticed a strange impression on the back cover. He lifted the binding to reveal a small piece of paper. As he flipped it over his throat went dry and his cheeks burned. It was a picture of Temari at the beach, while she was sunning herself. The angle of the shot and the fact that she was lying down on a towel obscured her bits, but her top was untied and the look she was giving to the camera was definitely salacious. By the time time Hari regained his senses, he noted that the image was starting to fade. He committed the image to his memory before it faded to white. He didn't understand why the two gay men in his life went out of their way to indulge some of his more embarrassing desires, but he was secretly happy that they did.

Iruka sent him a few training scrolls on chakra control techniques, and a letter of encouragement. Slipped in between the pages were a few vouchers for free Ichiraku ramen. On the back of one was a small note from Ayame wishing him a happy birthday. He hoped that she and Iruka were getting along well. The two of them had been sporadically dating for as long as he could remember. Relationships between civilian and shinobi were always difficult, but at least Ayame had proven more stubborn than most, always willing to try again. He looked back down at the note and frowned. When undercover, anything that ties you back to people was dangerous. They could be targeted as leverage, or they could be used against you in interrogations. He knew that was very unlikely at Hogwarts, but he was determined to treat this like a real mission. With a sad sigh, he burned the coupon.

Hanako gave him a gift-wrapped bottle of his favorite dry sake. It was the first time he'd ever enjoyed the potent drink, and she had decided to start a tradition of gifting it to him. When he sipped on a cup of it, Hari recalled the first night he tried it. It was right after a mission to the capital. Hanako had taken down a missing-nin from Grass that had been giving Shidan fits. He recalled the three of them relaxing in a booth. Hanako was flirting with Shidan, who responded with a soft smile that was so rare for the stoic boy. Hari had been drinking heavily from the bottle of delicious sweet sake, and by the time the place closed, his friends had to help carry him home.

The memory had snuck up on him like a serpent, but he felt the weight of it on his chest. It was such a happy night, from the time when his friend was still alive. He tipped the cup back, and took the rest of the potent drink into his throat. It burned as it went down. He stoppered the bottle and set it aside. Drinking alone and reminiscing made him feel pathetic.

His father had sent him a couple bowls of Ichiraku ramen, kept warm through a clever series of seals. He ate the delicious noodles as he unsealed the package from his mother. It was a book, with a note attached.

This book is made with a set of seals tied to your emergency seal. If you are ever captured, you will be able to easily dispose of the contents. Keep this hidden, and keep it safe. We all believe in you, son.

He flipped open the book and understood the concern. Each page held a number of photos from home. There was a pictures of his family, his friends, his aunts and uncles, and his team. He looked around the empty room, suddenly feeling more exposed than usual. He sent a clone to barricade the door, and spent the rest of the afternoon slowly eating ramen and remembering the home he missed so badly.

Ron sat quietly at the Halloween feast that evening, his mind consumed with thoughts of goblins and wizards. Flitwick had asked all of the right questions, which made Ron assume that Flitwick had known the answers all along.

He started his afternoon learning about the Goblin Massacre of 1435, which didn't seem to have any major theft related to it. Ron was about to accept the theory of an act of goblin aggression when he came across the story of Varus the Huntsman. He was a famous hunter of dark creatures, and in 1434 he claimed his greatest prey in the form of Fivewounds, the feared Goblin King of Wales. What struck Ron was how Varus was treated a hero for his victory. It made sense to him why the goblins would have been so angry.

The thefts of the Rainbow Stone, the Hammer of Kings, and the Dagger of Smirktongue were the second piece of the puzzle he researched. All of them were thefts of goblin relics by wizards. The thing that separated these from other thefts was that they involved wizards and goblins working together to apprehend the thief. In all three cases, the goblins recovered their possessions.

The final piece of the puzzle was the Hufflepuff Accord, which was signed by Helga Hufflepuff and One-Eye, Goblin King of England. It laid out rules and stipulations for goblin-wizard relations, including how to handle any transgressions by wizards against goblins or goblins against wizards. In either case, a group of both races would assemble to ensure that appropriate justice is administered. Ron noted that the signing of the Hufflepuff Accord occurred at a point in time that started eighty years of peaceful goblin relations. Further examination discovered that only when a new treaty was mandated by wizards did relations sour.

He was left with the conclusion that goblins were looking for respect. When wizards treated them like equals, peace was maintained. It was only when wizards treated them as a lesser race that violence tended to break out.

The problem was that wizards tended to treat everyone as less important, whether they were goblins, elves, or centaurs. They even treated muggleborns as lesser wizards. Thinking about muggleborns drew his thoughts to Hermione. The hurt look on her face as she ran away from him ate at his insides. He wondered if she was looking for recognition because of her parentage. He knew she was driven to be the best in classes, and that had almost cost her friendship with Harry when she ratted him out to McGonagall.

"You okay, Ron? You've hardly touched your steak and kidney pie." Ron turned to see Percy, looking at him with some concern.

Ron nodded slowly. "I just have a bit on my mind." He took a bite of the savory pastry. He swallowed his bite. "Oi, Percy. You're friends with Penelope, right?"

Percy looked a bit nervous. "Err, yeah, we're friends. Why do you ask?"

"Well, she's a muggleborn. I was wondering if she ever had any trouble come from that."

Percy set his silver down beside his plate. "Yeah, it wasn't always easy. A lot of kids don't like muggleborns at Hogwarts, and she didn't know anyone when she started school. She made a few friends, but the first few years were pretty lonely. She was really worried about Harry, because he had a hard time making friends in his house, which is why I thought to have you, him and Hermione spend time together."

Ron swallowed thickly, and he realized that it was probably the same way with Hermione. She had Harry and him as her only friends, and after the dust-up with Harry she had been devastated. The full weight of what he said hit him in the gut. "Sometimes, you make it hard to be friends with you."

His musings were interrupted by the din of the Great Hall doors being slammed open. Professor Quirrell was racing down the center of the room. "Troll! Troll in the dungeons!" He paused in the center of the room, breathing heavily. "Just thought… you should know." He collapsed in a heap.

At the behest of the professors, the prefects quickly gathered the students to return to their rooms. Ron realized that Hermione was still in danger, and in that moment she needed her friends. When his brother turned his attention from him, he snuck his way over to the Ravenclaw table to find Harry.

Hari surveyed the chaos of the Great Hall with some bemusement. Well, if I ever need a good distraction, setting a troll loose in the castle should do the trick, he thought. The professors were all trying to organize the now-panicking children into orderly mobs that they could transport to safety. Hari knew trolls weren't exactly bright creatures, but they were destructive and powerful. This was obviously a distraction someone else had set off, which meant a deeper game was most likely afoot. Given that the person to set it off the alarm was Quirrell, blame could likely be set at his feet. One the other hand, another professional could have set Quirrell up, but he rather doubted that. He had no evidence that anyone else with his level of training was operating in the castle.

He allowed himself to corralled by Penelope and quickly shuffled to the back of the pack. He was ready to lose the group once they started moving when he saw Ron walking toward him. The redhead looked distraught as he inexpertly tried to avoid notice. When he got close, he spoke in a hushed tone. "Harry, Hermione isn't here."

Hari let the words sink in, and he darted his eyes over to the Gryffindor table. He noted the absence of his bushy-haired friend. "Where is she?"

Ron looked away in shame. "I don't know. I said some things, and I haven't seen her since Charms."

Hari was looking for an opportunity to make an exit. "That was four hours ago."

Ron bit his lip. "I think I might have hurt her worse than I realized."

Hermione was a seventy-pound girl without any sort of combat training. Against a two tonne troll that was three times her height. She didn't stand a chance if it found her. "Right, we need to do something. When I move, follow me."

"What do you -"

Hari saw his moment and pushed away from the table, and darted toward a side entrance to the Great Hall. Ron to his credit didn't lose too many steps to him, but he used the confusion to hiss a few words to Hebisoka. "We're looking for a troll or the girl. The troll should taste awful." A squeeze around his arm let him know she got the message.

Ron grabbed his shoulder and looked him in concern. "You alright, mate? I heard you hissing."

Hari shook his head. "I stubbed my toe, but I'll be fine." He the snake in his arm shift, and he was soon following Hebisoka's lead.

"Do you have a plan?"

"If we find Hermione, we get her back to your tower. If we find the troll, we try to trap it somehow. Just don't do anything too foolish and we'll be fine." He heard footsteps coming his way. He shoved his hand over Ron's mouth and pushed them both into an alcove. A moment later he watched as Severus Snape walked past him. The potions professor was headed up to the forbidden hallway on the third floor with the giant three headed dog. It seemed for a moment that perhaps Quirrell may have been a patsy for the potion's master, but Hari didn't have time to consider that. Hebisoka was pulling hard at his sleeve.

"What do you think Snape is up to, mate?"

Hari frowned. "Not sure, but we have bigger things to worry about." He caught sight of the massive grey troll wandering into a girl lavatory. "Alright, easy enough. We just need to lock the door and barricade it with something heavy. You know the levitation charm?"

Hebisoka's hiss cut through the quiet hall. "The girl is in there as well." Hari's blood froze and his eyes widened.

Ron looked over to Hari. "Did you hear that?" At that moment, a shrill scream came from the bathroom.

Hermione was cleaning her face after another crying session. She had attempted to leave the bathroom three times already, but as soon as she did, the question of what she would do next came to her mind.

She had no answer. It was clear that in either the muggle world or the magical one, she was defective. Broken. Neither side wanted her. The only two friends she had made rejected her, and she felt hopelessly alone.

The clock had struck seven, so she knew the Halloween Feast was in full swing. She decided to try to slip out back to her dormitory. Hopefully life would seem more hopeful after a night's sleep.

When she looked up from the faucet she caught a glimpse of the massive troll that had just wandered into the lav, and let out a terrible cry. She managed to flee back into a toilet stall before the beast's massive club destroyed the sinks she was standing at.

The walls of the toilet flew over her head as the troll ripped them from the walls, and stood over her with his club in hand. This was how Hermione Granger was going to die: on a toilet, alone in an unfamiliar place, killed by a gargantuan brute. She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable, when she heard familiar voices. "Hey! Hey you, get on over here, you coward." She opened her eyes to see Harry Potter and Ron Weasley standing in the door throwing debris at the troll.

They had come for her. Her friends had come to save her. They had come looking for her. Ron started casting hexes at the troll, but his magic never seemed to work quite right. Harry was drawing its attention with his well-aimed pitches. She tried to scoot away from the troll to get to safety, but the movement drew the trolls attention back to her. Its roar froze her in place and it reared its club over its head. She was still going to die, but at least she had the solace of knowing her friends cared about her.

Then Harry Potter appeared in a puff of smoke in front of her, arm raised in defiance of the troll.

Hari tossed a spout at the troll while Ron continued to attempt any spell at all that would hinder the troll. He made a note to analyze the boy's spellcasting routine. Currently, it was quite ineffective. The troll turned its attention towards them, and Hari took a step back in an attempt to lead it away.

Then the troll turned its attention back to the scared girl huddled beside a toilet. It raised its club, ready to smash her body into goo. Hari knew at that moment he had a choice between his mission and his friends. To his credit, he didn't hesitate even a split second.

He formed a quick chakra burst that put him directly in front of Hermione, his arm raised to absorb the blow. He managed to funnel some chakra into it to absorb the impact.

Apparently one of Ron's spells worked, as the club was floating over the troll, but the meaty fist slammed down against his arm. He felt his bones crack, and his arm became limp as he twisted away from the punch. The troll's fist smashed into the ground beside him, and he used his good arm to drive a kunai into its elbow. The troll howled in pain as Hari produced two more knives that he drove into the trolls legs. The troll was trying to right itself as he produced one last kunai, this one with a seal attached, and drove it into the troll's chest.

He kicked at the trolls leg, which sent it stumbling backwards. Once it was a few feet away, he triggered the explosive. The fire and force drove sent the troll sprawling against the other wall, blood and viscera speckled the floor, and a cloud of dust kicked up. The club hanging above him tumbled to the center of the room.

Hari turned his attention to the wide-eyed girl behind him, continuing to push the pain of his now useless arm out of his mind. "Okay, we need -" He was interrupted by a loud roar from the fallen troll. He snapped his head back to the troll, which was now pushing itself back up. It pulled the various kunai from its body, and Hari watched as the bloody wounds he caused knit themselves back together.

Having only one usable arm limited his options in a fight, but Hari had prepared some for such an occasion. A few one-handed seals let him summon a dozen clones that hurled themselves at the troll while he stood back and thought.

The clones were able to distract the troll, but any damage they did was quickly recovered. The troll seemed to be able to heal itself rapidly. Hari chewed on his lip. A lethal attack might be unrecoverable. The regeneration seemed natural for the troll, and if he could kill it in a single attack, perhaps that would cease its healing.

Unfortunately, with one arm, his techniques were limited. He could use explosive tags, but that had already failed. His taijutsu wasn't powerful enough to make a difference. He couldn't summon any new snakes without his other arm, and while Hebisoka was a great advisor, she wouldn't be much help in a fight with a troll. His wind attacks were getting better, but they required two hands. He could use his broom-spear, but he wasn't confident that it would be any more effective than the tags. If only he could use the Rasengan, that attack would surely be sufficient.

He paused at that line of thought. The Rasengan wasn't usable in a fight because it took too much time to form. Any competent opponent would attack him to disrupt it. The troll wasn't a competent opponent, though. It was big and powerful, but very dumb. His clones were easily able to keep its attention. He took a step forward and summoned another dozen clones. He put his one good hand behind him while two clones worked at forming the powerful chakra sphere.

He watched his clones dance around the hulking grey beast, and counted the seconds. At thirteen seconds the troll seemed to be vaguely aware that he was doing something. The clones started throwing themselves in his way trying to slow him down. They bought him another thirteen seconds, which was just enough for him to feel the Rasengan reach its final form. The mass of blue energy hummed under his fingers as the troll lumbered towards him.

Hari dashed towards the creature, the orb held behind him. The troll took a step towards Hari and swung a meaty fist down at him. Hari pulled the orb close to his chest and rolled past the strike and under the troll's large legs. He twisted as he stood, the troll's back facing him, leapt towards the enemy and pressed the powerful Rasengan into its backside.

As Hari released the chakra in his hands, the force of the blast tossed him back towards the now-missing sinks. As he regained his senses, the first thing he noticed was the smell. The intense pungent odor of troll was replaced with something so much worse. It was like a mixture of feces and vomit was used to paint the room. The second thing he noticed was the gore.

The Rasengan is a wild, chaotic attack that always seemed to affect different things in different ways. Sometimes it would incapacitate a foe. Often, it would kill them. But occasionally it produced a wound so horrific as to defy explanation. This was one of those times. He could make out a small wound on the troll's back where the orb had entered, but the front half of the troll was simply missing. Blood, guts, organs, flesh all coated the far end of the room, including the tiny girl huddled next to the toilet who was now staring glassily at the fallen troll.

"Well, fuck."

Hermione stared at the now-dead troll. She felt sticky. She supposed that was due to the copious amounts of blood she was now covered with. It had a rather rank odor to it, which she assumed would be quite difficult to get out. She would need a very hot shower after this.

The fight had been terrifying. Hari had cast some unknown spell that let him duplicate himself. He had also Apparated right in front of her, something that was supposed to be impossible inside Hogwarts. And she had been worried that he wasn't magical. It all seemed so silly now.

She stared at the missing chest of the troll, watching the last of its foul ichor leak on to the floor, when she heard an expletive from Harry. She mumbled out a reprimand, but she was sure he didn't hear her. It felt idiotic to reprimand him after what she just saw him do.

He saved her life. The troll was going to kill her. It certainly was capable of doing so, given its bulk and strength. Harry had killed it. She should be happy. She was alive. For some reason she couldn't feel anything at all. She wasn't even crying anymore, which she had been doing just a minute earlier. She just felt, nothing.

While she stared at the troll, she was aware of Ron stepping into the room. "Merlin, Harry, what the bloody hell was that?" It seemed like a funny question, given the evidence of what Harry had just done was currently sliding down her cheek.

"No time for that, Ron. I'll explain later." It was Harry. His voice was raspy. He sounded like he was in pain, which made sense as she was sure he had broken his arm. "What are a troll's weaknesses?"

"Fire and acid," she thought to herself. "And apparently you."

"Blood hell, Harry, I dunno? Blowing it up seems to have done the trick."

Harry growled. "No, not that. I mean, what is a normal weakness of a troll, like you would learn in defense."

"Fire and acid." The voice belonged to her, but she wasn't aware she was using it. She felt like she wasn't quite in her body at the time. Was this what it was like to be a ghost?

Ron walked into her field of view and stared at her. "Harry, is she alright?"

Harry was gathering a torch from its sconce and a lantern from the walls. "She's in shock." That made sense. Given what she had experienced, it made sense that her mind would try to protect itself. Maybe that's why she wasn't feeling anything. "We need to clean this up." She wasn't quite sure what to make of that.

Ron gave a look at him, before turning back to the area around her. "Scourgify." He cast a perfect cleaning charm. It was amusing, given his inability to cast even basic hexes a moment prior. "Don't tell anyone I can do this, Harry. My mum taught me and she'd get in trouble -"

"Relax, Ron. That secret is the least of our worries right now. Just keep casting it." Hermione saw Harry smash the lantern over the troll's corpse, splashing a section with oil. He set the torch to it and in a flash the troll's body was engulfed in flame. The smell of burning troll was actually vaguely pleasant, especially as it cut through the pungent odor of troll's blood and bile. It smelled sweet and smoky, almost like a barbeque restaurant she liked from home. She idly wondered if she would ever be able to eat there again without remembering the sight of a dead, burning troll.

"Bloody hell!"

"Just keep casting that charm!"

Ron walked closer towards her, cleaning all around her until she occupied the only befouled area left. He stood over her, obstructing her view of the troll. She looked up into his eyes, which shone with guilt. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. This is all my fault." She couldn't even process how that made sense. "If I wasn't an arse to you earlier, this would've never happened." She had forgotten all about that. "Can you forgive me?"

She nodded her head slowly, her eyes transfixed on his. "Here, can I help you up." He reached a hand down to her. She tried to grab it, but the slick troll's blood didn't offer much purchase. He grabbed with both hands and with his help, she was able to get to her feet. "This might feel a bit weird." He aimed his wand at her and cast Scourgify. It felt like she was being shaken, maybe like it would feel to go through a wash and dry cycle all at once. When it passed, the gore was gone from her.

Harry was walking up to them. His left arm was hanging uselessly by his side, and every step seemed painful to him. "Okay. I promise, I will explain everything, but right now I need you guys to back my play." She nodded quickly. He saved her life; she owed him this much, at least. Ron gaped at him in confusion. "Right, Ron, we were looking for Hermione because of what happened earlier. There was a fight, she came here, you were worried, we came looking for her. The troll was already here, we tried to stop it, I got injured in the process, and you remembered that trolls were weak to fire, and used this lantern," he shoved the broken lantern into his hands, "and that torch," He pointed to the torch laying beside the dead troll, now extinguished on the floor, "to kill it." Hermione nodded. She would have been more annoyed that Harry was trying to lie to the professors again, but that seemed so petty at the moment.

Ron, on the other hand, seemed to be having trouble with the concept. "You want me to take credit? But Harry, you were the one that killed it. You should get the credit."

Harry shook his head. "I don't want it. Please, Ron. Just follow the story okay?" Footsteps could be heard racing towards the room. Harry dashed towards the opposite wall and arranged himself in an inglorious heap on the ground, his broken arm supported by his legs.

Hermione readied herself. She felt more aware, as the throng of professors and prefects entered the room.

Ron chewed on his lip as the professors filtered in. His head was swimming with all of the new information, trying to piece everything together. Harry was hiding some powerful secrets. Powerful enough to kill a troll. Secret enough that he had to cover it up. Albus Dumbledore led the pack. He appraised the situation carefully before surreptitiously cleaning a spot of blood behind Hermione. The ease at which he wandlessly, wordlessly cast the cleansing charm spoke of his skill and power. He'd always heard that the Headmaster was a great man capable of great deeds, but seeing a glimpse of that power was something else.

He also noted that his aiding them in the cover up likely meant the headmaster was in on Harry's secret. It was a small comfort to the frazzled young boy.

Professor McGonagall pushed past the headmaster while Madam Pomfrey attended to Harry. "Now, what on earth going on here?"

Hermione spoke first. "I was in here during the feast, when a troll attacked. Harry and Ron came to rescue me." Her voice was less stilted, but she still sounded a bit off. She was more direct than usual.

McGonagall stared at her. "And why were you not at the feast with the other children?"

Ron spoke up. "That's my fault ma'am. She was…" He paused. He couldn't lay any blame at her feet. It was him being a prat that caused this. "I said some very hurtful things to her during Charms today." He felt awful about everything. "I'm so sorry, Hermione."

The Animagus eyed him shrewdly. "Charms was hours ago."

Ron winced. "I said…I said something really awful. I wasn't thinking." He looked down at the floor in shame.

He heard a groan from Harry. He spoke in a raspy, pained voice. "Ron also came to save her. When we were evacuating, he was the one who warned me she was missing. We came looking for her together." He coughed. "The troll was massive. We were trying to lure it out when it clipped me with its club. After it was only Ron and the troll." He let out another hacking cough. "It was incredible. Never seen anything like it. Ron grabbed a torch and lantern and set the troll on fire." He nodded towards the still smoldering husk of the troll.

Harry was fantastic at telling a story. He lied with practiced skill, which only made sense to Ron; he had been lying ever since he showed up to Hogwarts. The number of questions Ron had about Harry Potter was growing by the second.

Everyone turned and faced him. He felt the weight of their stares on him. He saw his brother looking at him with something akin to awe. McGonagall and Flitwick seemed surprised by the news. Dumbledore looked on approvingly. Snape was scowling at Harry, but that wasn't unusual given how much abuse he'd heard the slimy git show to his mate.

McGonagall was the next to speak. "Is this all true, Mr. Weasley?"

Ron drew in a gulp. He wasn't above telling a small lie every now and again, but somehow this one felt different. He knew this wasn't a small lie, and there would be consequences if he was ever found out. Still he felt the gaze of his two best friends upon him, and he refused to be the one to back down. "Yeah, it was bloody terrifying. Trolls are more flammable than I thought."

"Language, Mr. Weasley." His head of house seemed to think for a moment. "You children must learn to behave yourselves. Ms Granger, ten points from Gryffindor for being out of bounds. Mr Weasley, ten points from Gryffindor for causing such distress." He gulped. Relations in Gryffindor for he and Hermione were about to get much less pleasant. "And Mr. Weasley, twenty-five points for Gryffindor for outstanding bravery and skill in the face of such a ferocious opponent." Or not.

Madam Pomfrey stood up from Harry and cast a spell. "Mobilicorpus." Ron noticed that Harry was unconscious, and floating beside the school mediwitch. "Mr. Potter has suffered a serious fracture, and will need to remain in my care for the evening. I would suggest that you two submit to an examine as well."

The Headmaster's eyes twinkled. "Yes, I do believe that is in order. Hopefully a good night's rest in your care will help put this little incident behind us."

Ron nodded his assent. He had mostly stayed out of the fight, and hadn't really been hurt at all, but he knew that Hermione needed to see some medical attention.

He also knew that he needed to be around when Harry Potter woke up. All of that research on Goblin Rebellions had awoken a part of his brain that yearned for answers to questions, and right now, he knew the only one who could answer his questions was floating beside Madam Pomfrey.

"Just who are you, Harry?"

The story isn't dead! I've been working on this one for awhile, and over the break I finally made it my goal to push it out.

I want to start by thanking Mon Espirit Libre for beta reading this for me, and leaving the occasional reminders that I should probably be doing more work on this story. Your support makes this story so much better.

I'd also like to thank reviewers blinded in a bolthole and Noyoki for your persistent feedback. It is readers like you that encourage me to keep on.

Finally I'd like to ask all my readers to feel free to contact me via PM, email, or instant message. You can use this site or my email kodra22 . One of my reviewers asked a number of great questions that I wish I had a chance to respond to, but they had PMs turned off, so I invite you all to feel free to contact me.

I am currently doing a polish pass on my earlier chapters, and have already updated Chapter 1, so if any of you know of sections of the story that need some work, please let me know in the reviews.

And for this chapters review prompt: what do you think of Ron? He seems like a controversial character, but I wanted to focus on the positive elements of him. Let me know what you think.

Thanks for Reading!