It was with a growing unease that Harry started attempting different things. His first Eleven years of his life had been miserable. Fun wasn't something he could worry about having at all, never mind seeking it out. In Hogwarts, his life was frought with danger and studies.

He enjoyed Quidditch, found it fun. But it was one hobby, and he didn't think Quidditch was good enough by itself. Bellatrix liked fighting, but Harry didn't. He was excellent at it, but he didn't derive joy from competition. Even Quidditch was more of an excuse to fly, rather than his favorite activity.

His mind wandered. His father and his friends enjoyed pranks. So too, did Fred and George. Ron liked Chess, Hermione was avid on reading. He recalled that she usually mentioned visiting beaches over the summer as well, so she may enjoy swimming.

But then he drew a blank. Did most Witches and Wizards not have any purely fun past times?

His mind ground to a halt when he remembered the Triwizard tournament. Maybe, the issue was that most Witches and Wizards still enjoyed the older things to do. Balls, and dancing.

None of these held appeal.

The teenager shrugged and delved into his mind.

"Hey Tom." he said.

"What?" Voldemort replied, mildly irritated.

"What do wizards do for fun?" Harry asked.

There was a long silence.

"Lucius, what do wizards fo for fun?" he heard Voldemort ask.

There was a brief silence.

"Lucius says they enjoy reading. Lucius himself enjoys making things suffer, though I doubt that is your cup of tea." Voldemort relayed.

"Neither of those are, no." Harry groaned.

"Why not try practical jokes or something?" Voldemort suggested.

Harry shook his head. "I don't have the mind to plan pranks." he said.

"Then try some athletics of something. Wizards used to be knights, try learning swordsmanship."

Harry thought for a second about that idea. Rolled it around in his head. "That does sound like a good idea. Thanks, Tom" he said at last

Voldemort closed the link without replying. Since when was he the advice column?

Harry held a longsword with one hand. Sweat caked his back and he had already divested himself of his shirt. He swung the blade again, focusing on holding the blade at a correct angle to cut, and slicing through the air efficiently.

The transfigured mannekin fell in two pieces, a clean diagonal cut through its chest.

Harry would have used Gryffindor's sword but for two reasons. One, it was still poisoned to all hell with basilisk venom, and Two, it had so many charms on it that he could have the strength of a two year old and he could swing it easily.

He sighed and released the tranfigurations. The mannikin turned into a pile of mud, and his sword turned into a loose stick. He tossed it away and walked away from his training area, a small clearing in a grove.

He wiped down his torso with a spare towel as he walked, using magic to clean the towel afterwards and draping it over a shoulder.

He stepped out of the trees and was about to walk to the hotel when he was suddenly grabbed. A cold, vice-like grip pulled him back and held him into a tree. He grabbed the hand and pulled on it, but there was no weakness. He couldn't make the hand move at all. It was like marble.

He looked at the owner of the hand and found himself face to face with a red eyed vampire, its teeth protruding as it leaned in. Fangs pierced his skin and Harry grunted in pain.

It had nothing on the vampire, who started screaming after a second. Its' echoing wails of pain stunned Harry, who was surprised further when the blood sucker collapsed to the ground, clawing at it's teeth as it hissed. Smoke escaped his mouth and the vampire lay dead.

"Uh." Harry said. "Should I call somebody?"

A man ran up to him. Harry could see the tip of a wand poking out of his sleeve. "What the hell was that?" the man asked.

"A vampire, I'm pretty sure." Harry muttered.

The man rolled his eyes. "That was obvious. I meant, what did you do to it?"

Harry waved his hands innocently. "I didn't do anything. It tried to bite me, and died."

The man sighed. "Look kid, don't freak out. No one is gonna be mad if you killed the vampire. You don't have to lie."

"I'm not lying." Harry said forcefully, his face cold and angry.

The man waved his hands in return, trying to calm Harry down. "Woah there man, cool it." he said. "Look, if it really bit you, let's get you to a hospital so we can make sure you're okay, alright?"

Harry grudgingly nodded, and the man apparated the two of them away.

"How are you alive?" the mediwitch demanded him.

"Uh, sorry?" Harry asked. "I was just doing this thing where I don't die."

The witch frowned disapprovingly at him. "Your blood is full of basilisk venom." she explained.

"Still?" he asked. "That was a couple years ago."

"You knew?!" the witch screeched.

"Well yeah. I generally remember getting bit by a huge basilisk." he joked.

The witch couldn't seem to get another word out through her disbelief and awe.

Harry nodded. "I get that a lot. I'm just gonna go now."

She reached out to restrain him, but he apparated away before she could.