Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this endeavor.


A/N: As always my thanks goes out to those of you who take the time out of your day to read this, and to those of you who kindly take the time out of your day to review.

I fixed my divination derp from last chapter when I applied the corrections from alix33's review. I will just say this about my ability to keep stuff straight. I make often use of the fact that when you hold the the thumb and forefinger of your left hand perpendicular to each other it forms an L, and left starts with the letter L.

Yes, I am quite familiar with the phrase 'No, your other left'.

Also: Buffer! Mwa ha ha ha!


Vocal key:

"English"

*Familiar Thought Speech*

~Parseltongue~

'Thoughts'

^German^


Chapter 9: An Educational and Enjoyable Vacation

Being Events in Reflection of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Harry was in a foul mood for the rest of that first day of the summer. The same thing that had happened last year the night after he had gotten off the Hogwarts Express had happened again! He saw an entirely different set of circumstances for what could have happened down in the Chamber of Secrets. And then there was that barrage of voices that he couldn't untangle... There were a few words, maybe a phrase that he had pried loose, but that was all.

All this apparent possible foresight he had did for him was give him some confusion. The fact that he he couldn't trust Dumbledore was reenforced from the first... dream. But then again, he already knew that.

And Alistair had decided to stay at the Castle because Harry was likely going to be out of Britain for a large portion of the summer.

"The magic that makes me work is tethered to this Castle. Granted, the range of the enchantments covers the entire island, and even allows me to go to Ireland.

"In fact, if I know you as well I as I think you do, you'll probably end up going along with Remus rather than Sirius.

"Besides which, I may have gotten my knowledge of Mind Magics from Salazar, the father of modern mind magics in Britain, but it is just that, Britain. New ideas and points of view will never hurt."

Of course, he hadn't yet told Alistair that he had already decided he was going with Remus for the summer.

So the rest of the day of summer passed in an anti-social silence for Harry. His bad mood was made worse by the fact that he was still getting the strange flashes with his senses, but they were no where near as bad as they were at Hogwarts.

He could tell Nicolas and Perenelle wanted to talk to him about something, but they seemed to see he was in some sort of mood, and had given him some space.

He'd have to thank them for that tomorrow. And ask them if they knew anything about what was happening to him. He wasn't sure if he was going to talk about the dream though... It was just too bizarre for words.


Sitting at the table after breakfast the next day, Harry said, "Thanks for waiting to talk to me about... whatever it is you are going to talk to me about."

Perenelle smiled and said, "Well, we could tell that talking to you would be like talking to a brick wall. You really do have your mother's temperament. And that is not a compliment. Lily could be downright evil if you got her angry enough..."

Nicolas grimaced at that, and continued, "There is something that we do have to tell you, something that every magical, muggleborn or not, is informed, or reminded, of before their thirteenth birthday. We haven't told you yet because it has been a temporary non-issue."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, gave a long suffering sigh, and said, "Oh, goody. I thought I had already gotten caught up on most general information everyone is supposed to know..."

Perenelle snorted, and said, "Yes, well since you had been under blocks for part of what we have to tell you about, it becomes slightly more of an issue now that it is coming back into the area of needed information. A young witch's or wizard's magic matures steadily with four exceptions. They undergo... bursts of growth near or on their birthday at the ages of seven, eleven, thirteen, and seventeen. Because you were under the aforementioned blocks for the first two, your next one, in a little under two months time, is going to be particularly long and more than a little painful. And yours were likely to be... rough... to begin with because of your general power level."

Harry just shook his head and slumped down onto the table, "Bloody hell. I blame Dumbledore, and no one is going to convince me otherwise... Any other news?"

Nicolas shook his head (not that Harry could see it given how he was sitting), and said, "Nope. Anything you want to talk to us about?"

Harry, face still down, said, "Yes, I have something I need to ask about... It's actually about a set of things that have been... strange about my senses. I've been hearing some sort of sub-audible... humming for lack of a better term. I'd call it a buzzing, but it is almost as if I can hear a tune. Then there is the fact that I sometimes feel this strange pressure on me, and I can feel it... vibrating sometimes. And if that happens when I am hearing the humming its almost like they are in synch. And last I keep seeing lights around objects and people, sometimes even with the things glow. I've even been catching really strange scents and tasting things when I hadn't eaten for hours. It's been driving me batty."

Each of the Flamels stared at Harry in silence for a good two minutes. He had a feeling that he had just admitted to something that they understood, but did not expect. Oh, goody, this was going to be a fun conversation.

It was Nicolas who pinched the bridge of his nose this time, and he said, "Harry, you have just described, in as much detail as can usually be articulated, the early stages of both a full spectrum Mage Sense and Mage Sight. One or the other are extremely rare abilities, especially, the full field Mage Sense, but both? I can't think of anyone that has ever even admitted to having them both..."

Perenelle sighed and said, "It's a good thing you decided to go with Remus. The new ways of focusing that you will learn can help in learning to not let the Mage Sense drive you up the wall. At least, that is what the people who I've spoken to who have those particular gift had said."

Nicolas took this chance to get his own two knuts in, "And as for the Mage Sight, I know of some ways to make it a bit more controllable, or at the very least comfortable."

Harry just nodded dumbly. He had some new reading to do.


Harry spent until the fourth of June relaxing on the Flamel property, deciding that he'd try to keep his schoolwork (both his own studies in getting ahead and the assigned summer homework) until after his vacation was over. He idly tried to read about his two new... talents, but there was very little useful information about them. It abounded with general overviews and descriptions, but not much more. Most definitely no user manuals.

He then left with Remus to Marauders' Manor to get ready for the trip. Their first half of their trip would be to a compound deep in the Himalayan Mountain Range. The second would be at a combination retreat/sanctuary/commune for werewolves (and other cursed shifters) and their families and friends deep in Germany's Black Forest.

The first place they would be visiting was described as something of a cross between a monastery, a scholarly retreat, and a frat house. The only real reasons that Sirius was not coming was because there was both a dearth of available women, and that, in Padfoot's own words, "The fact is that it is only one third frat house."

It was a wizarding institution, and placed above the snow line in the Himalayas. But then again, with the place spelled like it was, they would only be cold if they went outside or opened a window, though they were warned that while the drafts in the buildings weren't cold, there were still some drafts. While it wasn't a place that catered to werewolves specifically, a few of them had found a way to curb the beast within there.

The second location was another strange combination, part wilderness retreat, part sanctuary for werewolves (and those under similar curses) in need of a place to go, and part commune. The accommodations were mostly for werewolves and the like, but there were a number of safeguards in place for family members who were not infected, but also resided there.

Part of its purpose was to serve as a place for werewolves to swap tips and tricks on how they got through their worst time of the lunar cycle. It was also a safe location for werewolves in Germany and other nearby countries to spend the full moon without endangering others. There were also a few werewolf masters of the Mind Arts who made this place their home, but most often the others just thought of them as drinking buddies.

So with that in mind, Harry and Remus went shopping for two sets of clothes, one suitable for a castle during a mild winter and the other for mother nature in the middle of summer. They then spent the next few days setting a few pranks that would go off before Sirius left for his own trip on Monday. Harry wondered just wished they would have pictures of Sirius being assaulted by a platter of biscuits.

And then, on the afternoon of Saturday the fifth, Remus introduced Harry to the cursed object that all wizards call an international portkey.

"You will not enjoy this, Harry, and it will not be over quickly."

Harry most definitely did not enjoy how Moony began this lecture.

"This a portkey (he held up about three feet of rope) set to go international distances. A portkey is an object enchanted to take whoever is touching it to a distant location. Under five-hundred miles, unless going over major bodies of water, travel time is a matter of seconds. After that travel speed falls off to about a sixteen hundred kilometers per hour, so given that it is about seventy-three hundred kilometers from here to our destination as the crow flies, we're in for nearly five hours of travel."


When they (finally) landed, Harry was praying for death to come and claim him. He had come to the decision that he absolutely hated international portkeys.

'Not enjoy this, my left buttock!'

He was also quite angry with Moony at the moment. That furry son of a poodle had completely left out that portkey travel is accompanied by an spinning sensation. ' It wasn't all that many, maybe six revolutions per minute give or take a few, but after five hours of constant spinning... it would make anyone ill! Harry would have killed Remus for not warning him... If he could have gotten up from the floor.

All he could do was say, from his oh so wonderful spot on the ground, "Moony, I do not know when, and I do not know how, but I shall have my revenge, this I swear on the name of Prongs. I shall have vengeance!"

Harry was then told his second fun fact of the day, as the werewolf looked at him as though butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, "Harry, I would have told you, but it didn't come to mind. Werewolves are generally immune to motion sickness."

All he could do was grumble as he was picked up and hauled off to where they were staying. He knew that he was going to get dosed with a mild sleeping potion to get over the time difference. Hopefully, he would be feeling more stable when he work up.

And then Moony would pay. Oh, would he pay!


Hauling himself into a sitting position, Harry was grateful that the world was no longer wobbling nor spinning. Checking his watch, having sett it for the correct time zone before the portkey from hell, he grinned. Remus was never up this early. So, he changed into something that hadn't been slept in, and started digging around his trunk for... supplies. He knew that Remus would be in a room connected to his.

He'd have to set up defenses after what he would do tonight.

After he had gotten into Moony's room, he was a little disturbed that the old wolf had not set up any spells or wards to ensure that nothing like what was going to occur to him would happen. Well, now in addition to revenge it was also just plain his fault. Marauders never sleep with anything less than one eye open. So this would be an object lesson in addition to payback.

So, after scrawling the word 'Neko' on his forehead using a permanent marker, changing his hair color to a rather vivid shade of pink with a combination of color changing and permanency charms, and transfiguring his ears to more resemble Dumbo's than anything else, Harry started in on the old wolf's clothes.

When he finally left the room, Remus's hand was stuck in a bowl of warm water. Harry had to resist the urge to cackle as he went back to his own room, and started laying down privacy, locking, and security charms on doors.


Of course, he had purposefully forgotten the silence charms, so after a while of reading some fiction (he'd started reading the Wheel of Time series by Robert Jordan), he had finally broken down and started on elective course work, and had started reading up on what he would be doing in Ancient Runes next year (mostly memorizing various runes, their meanings, and learning some history, which was going to make for a boring year in that class), he was pleasantly brought out of his studious concentration when Remus started yelling, screaming, and cursing. He put the book down, took the defenses around his door apart, and popped his head into the werewolf's room.

"Remus, you didn't even try to protect yourself last night. I would have only done one or two things if that was the case, but, figuratively speaking, your pants were down around your ankles and your arse was in the wind. You were asking for a response of this level."

The pink haired, elephant eared man just glowered at the twelve year old. His bed clothes had a pale purple tutu over them. He hadn't noticed the fuzzy bunny slippers yet apparently, because they hadn't been thrown into a corner and burned.

"Hey, I swore revenge, now I have had it. Oh by the way, fuzzy bunny slippers on you feet."

Harry removed himself from the room as the big bad werewolf dissolved into girlish screams of terror. This seemed to be shaping up to be a fun trip.


But then again the next few days were hell. And none of it was Moony's fault. Apparently the Mind Arts masters of this little place don't often get young prodigies of the art coming to visit. So after the three who were in residence poked around his defenses for a few hours... each... they started playing rock, paper, scissors to see who would get a crack at him first.

Unfortunately for Harry, Master Shu was the winner. And the sadist (who bore a rather bizarre resemblance to Pat Morita, and the man reveled in the fact) had very firm opinions about what must accompany training the mind.

"Now, Daniel-san, mind cannot be properly trained without body."

Harry barely had time for a voice to whisper in his head, 'This will not end well,' before one of the most trying hours of his life began.

And so that was how Harry ended up on his back in a training room on his third day there. He was seeing stars, and wondering just why Fate had sought to make his life into a combination joke/horror story. Well at least he was getting a chance to practice his Mandarin. But what Master Shu had been quite surprised about, and most pleased with, was that Harry had known how to fall correctly. It allowed him to 'get on with the fun stuff'.

And Harry still shuddered when he first let it slip that he had some training, because Shu's already insane grin reached megalomaniacal levels.

Harry already cursed his days at the Dursleys that had started that knowledge, but he was still debating whether or not Moony required more revenge for completing it with his taekwondo...

But then again, Harry was quite certain that the reason Remus had not even taken a minor shot at payback at him was that the old man felt bad for Harry. And that earned the old wolf a little goodwill he had left in his body. Then again there was also the fact that Harry felt bad for Harry. And Harry almost never felt bad for himself.

So, with him contemplating whether or not getting back up off the floor would do him any good, the current bane of his existence stood over him.

"Very good, Daniel-san. Get up now, lots of work to be done."

And so Harry hauled himself up, muttering a few off-color words in French, and continued to get this particular lesson pounded into him. Never let it be said that Harry Potter knew when to give up.


On Sunday, Harry was lying on his bed, contemplating the ceiling. Not that he could do much more than that. His whole body hurt. And it would heal itself overnight, and then Master Shu would make it hurt all over again. There was a lot he loved about magic, but the fact that he could take this much of a pounding added a definite bad thing to the list about how he felt about it.

And there was Remus standing at his door. Laughing. If Harry could have moved either of his arms he would have cursed the man.

"Laugh it up, fuzzball."

"Hey, you do know that you could be on a beach right now with Sirius?"

"I know. But I am learning something, and it is not the fact that I don't have to be aware of a part of my body for it to hurt."

Remus stopped his chuckling and took a seat in a chair near Harry's bed. "Do tell."

"Well, for me to even start to actively use my Occlumency, I have to relax. I've gotten to the point of not being in a meditative state to access my memories, but I still have to sit still and focus, blocking out most of the world."

Remus nodded, that was indeed how most of the intermediate Occlumens recalled information. Though he only knew this from talking with them. He'd never been able to get past the basics himself.

"What Master Shu is doing... The closest I can put it is that I am focusing without concentrating. It's not easy, and I can't hold it for longer than a few seconds, but it is happening. He isn't just teaching me how to fight unarmed, he's talking a lot about how to be clear and focused without even trying... It is almost as hard to explain as it is to actually do."

Remus just looked a little surprised by this. The man could have gotten three or four Masteries except the UK Ministry of Magic and those of most of Europe had laws against werewolves having more than N.E.W.T.s. There were a number of things that took an inordinate amount of focus when you got into the deeper ends of the various disciplines of magic.

And in the short term it would likely enhance the quality of Harry's already superb transfiguration work.

If Harry could actually achieve what he was talking about, his ability to pull highly difficult magics would put him on a level with the likes of Dumbledore, though that would only be once Harry had enough knowledge and practice to go along with the focus he would gain.

"The really upsetting thing is the three Mind Masters have divided my six weeks here solely between the three of them. And I'm with this one until Saturday, god help me."

Remus smiled sadly at Harry. He'd heard about how enthusiastic the 'Mad Monk' was, but he was really going to have to see if he could do something for Harry. He hadn't come here just to study the Magics of the Mind.


And so, while Harry spent the next week learning with the rather overzealous Mind Arts martial artist, Moony continued his routine with a slight modification. He had spent most of his time so far talking with the residents who focused on the fields he was interested in, with a few visits to each of those that focus on the Mind Arts, but now, instead of just talking shop, he asked if they there was any help that they could give a student who could sleep through classes of one of the premier magic schools of the world and still come out at the top of his class.

The result was a little overwhelming.

Most of the residents of the compound knew that Harry Potter was currently visiting. Usually the only people who were allowed to enter the halls were those with (or in the case of European Werewolves could have) at least two Masteries. But given the combination of the young man's fame, his own stellar academic records, and the fact the Mind Masters in residence wanted to spend as much time possible with him, the group as a whole had allowed him entry.

The other two Mind Arts workers had already been sternly told at the Wednesday weekly group meeting/kegger that Potter would not be driven into the ground by them. Everyone else knew that trying to rein in Master Shu was like trying to tell the tide to stop.


When Harry had finally collapsed onto his bed on the second Saturday at the compound, he was praying for someone to come and put him out of his misery. Master Shu had gotten him up on the last day the psycho had to teach him after only two hours of sleep. Even on his best day, Harry still needed a good four hours of sleep, and he had often been sleeping six because of the sheer battering this raving psychotic had been giving him.

He had then been worked physically and mentally until he had dropped, then a rejuvenation potion was poured down his throat, and it started over again. Lather, rinse, and repeat until one Potter is finally allowed to go to his room shortly after midnight.

For the first time in about a year and a half, Harry slept for a full eight hours.


With his whole body stiff, Harry wondered if the next Mind Master could be anywhere near as bad as the first.

Harry spent the rest of his day rather twitchy. He half expected to be tackled by the next person who wanted to drum as much about their beloved mind arts as they could into him in as little time as possible. Even if he had been inclined to speak with any of the Masters of other fields of study, he just wanted to give his body and mind a rest.

He hoped the next on the list would be kinder than the first.


The next morning, as Harry was listlessly eating his porridge, a very large man, wearing one of those Russian fur caps with the ear flaps... and ushanka Harry thought it was called, sat down across from him, and said in English with a thick Russian accent, "Hallo, I am Vladimir Demidenko, and for at least two hours a day for the next two weeks, you are mine."

Harry blinked. His thoughts derailed in a catastrophic train-wreck. One of the more odd voices in his mind snarked out, 'In soviet Russia mind teaches you!'

Pulling himself together, he was thankful that this one wasn't going to take every last hour of his time.

The relief must have been fairly evident on his face because the Russian said, "Ya, Shu is a madman. He doesn't often talk about the last time he taught anyone, but I once got him drunk enough on vodka that he mentioned screams of terror and fleeing like little girls. Since you are still in this hemisphere, I think you passed. Come, let us discuss what you know of Occlumency."

What followed was four hours of questions, answers, and discussion. Harry really didn't mind it at all, at least he wasn't getting his ass kicked.


Now that he actually had free time, Harry finally found himself some time to talk with some of the other Masters who were present.

The first he actually got to spend any real amount of time with were a pair of Charms Masters, Erik and Alan White, who just happened to be identical twins. Alan taught him about the basics of wandless magic.

"Contrary to popular belief, wandless magic has absolutely nothing to do with raw power. In fact, unless wandless magic is among the talents of a Mage class or above wizard it is actually made harder to accomplish, as the more powerful magic users have to work harder at fine control."

Erik on the other hand specialized, and started teaching Harry, in animation.

"Really advanced animation charms can cause large, completely solid objects, like statues, mannequins, and even furniture, to move as though they have fully articulated joints. When you start off learning with the simple variants, you'll likely be practicing on toys that already have joints. Then there are the precursors to animation charms, those charms that allow objects to move, like with the summoning or banishing spells, though these charms will make what you cast them on act in prescribed ways, like a knife chopping vegetables, a ladle serving something, or making the targets on a range move."

He spent about a week working with them, and they added a few other things to his stockpile of useful tricks. One of the most useful was using focus and visualization to slightly alter a spell without changing its incantion, and the used the very simple lumos as an example, "Instead of just imagining a light... give it a color. And experiment from there."

That is not to say they also didn't work on refining and advancing the rest of his charms portfolio.

The time he spent with Vlad over the next fortnight was mostly spent discussing some of the most advanced implementations of mental defenses.

One lesson was on mental sentinels, "Now, when next you work on your defenses, visualize an additional fragment of your mind that functions automatically, like your heart, or how you breathe when asleep, or, or blinking. And then build some manner of protector or defender."

Another focused on a concept that Alistair had never really presented to Harry, but that he had made heavy use of anyway, "Defenses work best if they have some form of grounding in the real world. Using warding and enchanting only really works when you have a grounding in them, which means that you will need an advanced understanding of Runes, Charms, and some Arithmancy. Another use of the same is adding spacial expansion to your defenses."

Harry knew pretty damn well that he was years away from doing the more complicated of that crap, though he could get started on the basics of it.

For the second week of his time with the Russian, Harry spent his time away from the man with some of the Potions Masters and Mistresses. He was allowed to observe and was often given explanations on why they did what they did, but only when they were at lulls in their brewing. So scraps of notes were taken hear and there, figures for stirring patterns, sketches of the outcomes of different ingredient preparations, all of it eventually started to add up, to the tune of about one hundred pages of notes that Snape would likely kill for.

It also gave him an idea, and he was eventually going to see how effective charming a set of stirring rods would be.

With the end of the second fortnight, Harry had finally found some real enjoyment over the past few weeks. He still fled from Master Shu whenever he saw the man though.


The next, and final for this leg of the vacation, master was an Australian who was also a Transfiguration Mistress, Norma Dean.

She started by leading Harry through a number of meditation exercises in an attempt to get him to enter a far deeper meditative state than he had managed before. There were three in particular that she wanted him to use frequently. And if he was right in his suspicions, they were each meant to access something different.

They spent each of the first three days teaching him a different exercise.

Day One: "First, I want you to empty your mind as much as you can. Let the bulk of your conscious thoughts just drift away, and focus on your heartbeat. Let the sound of it fill you, listen to it beat, and to the silence between the beats. And let your mind expand, and let the time you perceive between the beats grow, even as your heart rate remains steady. Let your awareness of the life within you increase..."

Day Two: "Now, I would like you to let your mind drift, nearer and nearer to sleep. Let your thoughts haze while trying to keep your awareness of them sharp. Try and see the broad boarder between the waking and dreaming worlds. And just as you begin to dream, follow them down to their source..."

Day Three: "Begin by drawing up some of your magic and holding it as though you were preparing to cast a spell. Slowly clear away your thoughts, and focus on how your magic feels. The color of it, how brightly it shines. Does it give of a sound, or is it as silent as the night? Let the warmth of it seep into you, and feel the energy of it bleed into your nerves. And once you know all of that, and have it locked into your mind, follow the magic back to where it originates from within you."

And after the first time they tried the meditative exercise on the third day, Norma went into a short lecture. "While if you asked fifty different scholars where they thought the ultimate origin of magic was, you would get fifty different answers, the spells we cast draw magic from that which we carry within ourselves. While it is complete fallacy that we have a physical magical core that sets us apart from ordinary humans, it does not mean that there is a non-physical center of magical energy in each and every magic user that could still be called a magical core."

He found it exceptionally hard to clear his focus to the needed levels for any of the new meditative exercises, though this was mainly because his Mage Sense would just not shut up, even though he had eventually found a spell that had been originally meant to passively counter spells that provided Mage Sense or Sight. He had repurposed it in an attempt to drown out his new magical senses, and it had helped. But it obviously wasn't enough.

Between attempts at meditation, Norma had first tested Harry on all of his current knowledge in Transfiguration. By the time the third day rolled around, she started having him go through a few exercises to get him acclimated to attempting transfiguration on moving objects.

She had three rubber balls in her hands as she said, "We'll start simply. I will gently toss one of these at you while saying the name of a shape. You will transfigure the ball into that shape before it hits you or the ground. As you become more adept at this, you will move on to different general materials, like stone, metal, wood, and so forth. After that you should move on to different patterns and combinations, like one thirds lead, steel, and tin, or half ash and oak, or alternating bands of granite and marble."

She also worked on the very basic rudiments on conjuration with him, "Conjuration is an imperfect opposite of another function of transfiguration, vanishing. Vanishing does what it says, but vanished mass does not truly disappear. There is a skein of material just to the side of reality as we know it. Nothing really exists there, but it is everywhere at once. Conjuration occurs by drawing off some of this material. Most conjurations are not made to last be some are.

"I'll start by teaching you one of the simplest conjuration spells, one that creates a half kilo or less of wood that lasts about twenty minutes. I'd like you practice on getting exactly the amount of wood I ask you to, in precisely the shape I describe."

There was one question she asked him that brought the broader use of what she had been focusing on into view, "Now, think for a few minutes, and tell me, just why am I focusing on what I am?"

He did, and it eventually came down to one word, "Visualization. The better I can visualize my result the more effective my transfiguration is. And everything you have been teaching me has had the side effect of forcing me to refine that component of my spell casting."

She smiled slightly, nodded, and said, "Exactly."


He finally made a breakthrough at the beginning of his last week, his second studying under Ms. Dean, by embracing the sensations given to him by his Mage Sense instead of trying, fruitlessly, to block them all out. After two days of spending more than five hours a day in the deep meditation, he stumbled upon something that could only be called a maelstrom of energy and light hidden away inside of him.

His eyes opened with a gasp, and he fell over, out of the chair he had been sitting in, and Norma was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "I see that you finally found your magical core, Harry. Usually when someone is advanced as you seem to be, they get it in a three or four days, you took almost nine. Any reason for that?"

"I was attempting to shut out my Mage Sense instead of embrace it... It was too distracting trying to ignore it."

She nodded. "So, can you describe your core? Shapes, colors, arrangements of energies, perhaps any elemental overtones?"

He closed his eyes and tried to remember what he saw and felt. "Shades of green, mostly the color of emeralds, with bright, burnished, glowing golds. And... it was chaotic, there was almost no order that could be seen at first glance. And it was all in a huge... vortex. And it was massive. That is the only way I can begin to describe it. And there was maybe a hint of wind"

She nodded and then said, "Well then I can tell you a good thing, though you probably already know it, and a bad thing. The good thing is that from what you describe, you are probably already fairly powerful, and you haven't stopped growing yet. But as I said, you probably already knew. The bad news is that, like Alan White has likely told you, only the more ordered of magical cores are capable of great deals of wandless magic, so the farthest you are likely to get on that particular front is basic spells in general, maybe some more advanced movement spells, hovering, summoning, banishing, remote manipulation, things like that. Everything else will just end up with you blowing your eyebrows off. Your core is both too chaotic and just too strong for anything else to happen. And if you ever start studying elemental magic, you'll know where to start, instead of just stumbling around in the dark."

Since the beginning of the last week, he had spent less time with Norma because she had covered what she had wanted to in transfiguration, so instead he had been spending that time in the basements of the complex, where a number of highly advanced charms and enchantments made for the perfect greenhouses, comprising a number of different environments.

The Potter Manor had five different environmental greenhouses, and one highly compartmentalized greenhouse for safety measures. This place had two dozen different environments (some of the differences were subtle, and there were a few that were repeated due to the number of plants) and six more greenhouses that kept different dangerous specimens secure and separate in an environment optimal for their growth.

Neville would have given his left arm to visit this place.

He took notes on all of the plants present, planning on giving a copy of the notes as a birthday present to Neville. There was magical flora from all over the world, and as a parting gift, the Herbologists gave him a chest with a number of seeds, seedlings, and cuttings held in stasis.

He'd have to see if they could thrive in his own greenhouses before he gave samples to Neville.

Norma then spent the last few days of the time they had working on teaching Harry how to work with his core. It wasn't particularly complicated, it was just a focus intensive and slow process.

"You are capable, to some extent, of reordering your core. I'm not entirely sure how one would go about this, as I have never really had a need to. My own core has always been quite ordered. Another visualization exercise you should get in the habit of is imagine as the like between your core and the spell you cast as being something that you can vary, like a valve. And then try and increase, or decrease, the amount of power you put into your spellwork."

The thought of putting even more power into his spells scared him a little.


It was the night before they would be leaving for the Werewolf Retreat, and Harry was wandering the corridors of the compound. He hadn't been outside in six weeks, and he hadn't seen the sun in days. It was nearing midnight, and most of him just wanted to go to bed, but there was a part that was restless at the international portkey that he would be taking the next day.

And when he turned down a corridor, he found himself staring down a massive black wolf. It was bloody huge. From snout to the base of its tail it had to be more than three meters long, and was at least a meter and a half tall at the shoulder. Harry froze at the sight of it, and said only four words, "Bloody hell, why me?"

The wolf sat back on its hind legs, cocked its head to one side, and Harry could have sworn it was grinning at him, if not laughing outright. He rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest.

"I'm glad that someone finds my life amusing."

The wolf nodded its head, and got back onto all four feet. It started to approach Harry, and seemed to be appraising him. When it got within a meter of him, it stopped and just stared. Neither of them moved for five minutes.

And then, Harry felt something in him... click, and then clearly heard, *You'll do. It has been a long time since I have bonded to a wizard, but they are almost always the most interesting of times for me. I am Leon, a Himalayan Shadow Wolf.*

With this, Harry blinked and shook his head, and said, "Yet another familiar? Fate hates me. That's all I can think of, Fate hates my bloody guts. By the way, a wolf named lion?"

The wolf bloody grinned again, and he heard a chuckle in his head, *Very funny, pup, very funny. But, you're probably right on that fact that fate is not fond of you. Come on, let's get you to bed, cub. You have an international portkey to catch tomorrow.*

"Don't you mean we?"

*Nope, I have my very own method of travel, like a few other extremely powerful magical creatures. But unlike most other creatures, my range is only limited to where there are shadows, just as phoenixes are limited by there being something to burn where they arrive, even if it is only air.*

"I'll buy you a cow if you get me out of taking the portkey."

*Deal.*


The next day, the eighteenth of July, Harry was pacing about in the departure chamber as everyone present eyed the massive wolf that was laying down nearby with various levels of fear. Remus had been more than a little concerned about the second deadly creature that had become Harry's familiar. But he had said nothing yet. Mainly because said familiar was present, and had all of the indicators that it was an alpha wolf.

You don't anger an alpha that large. It is just not something that a living being can do and remain among the living.

When Harry had told everyone how he would be traveling there had been some some consternation, but it had eventually ended when Leon raised his head from the floor and growled. That shut everyone up.

Remus had then left at the portkey's departure time, and then Master Shu had rushed into the room, apparently hoping to catch them before they left. When he saw only Harry there, he was a little confused, but still elated.

"Here, these are for you. The crystal will, once a week, deliver a lesson in the martial arts directly to your mind. The dummy is a training aid for you to spar against. Tap three times with wand. You'd better come back here for more training, Danial-san!" He handed a small wooden box to Harry.

As he left immediately after giving these two gifts, Harry idly wondered when the last time was that he had a student who came back. He contemplated doing just that, knowing that he had long ago lost his sanity. He put the box in his bag, pulled out a book on Arithmancy, and sat down against Leon to wait the four and a half hours it would take for Remus's portkey to reach the Retreat in the Black Forest.

He doused all of the lights except the one he would use to read.


And while Harry was wasting time with his new animal friend, the Ministry of Magic back in merry old England were losing their heads. A prisoner had escaped. Escaped from Azkaban. It was impossible. No one had ever escaped from the most feared prison in the wizarding world!

The Wizengamot was up in arms, the DMLE was getting every Auror and Hit-Wizard they could to start searching, and Fudge was worried what this would do to his chances for reelection.

A Death Eater had escaped from the prison island-fortress of Azkaban.


Checking his watch, Harry rose to his feet. "Time's up. So, how do we do this Leon?"

The wolf gestured that Harry should climb on his back. That thought slowly wormed its way through Harry's thoughts. He was going to ride a massive black wolf. Now that was an image.

Doing as directed, Harry grabbed fistfuls of fur, careful not to yank any clumps out. Standing, Leon stretched, walked around the room a few times, and then bounded into the shadows. They came out into a wood walled room that had Remus working the kinks out from his long portkey ride.

Harry climbed off of Leon, grinning. "Thanks for that Leon, I owe you one live cow."

*Damn straight you do, cub.*

"How was the trip, Remus?"

"Like any other international portkey, cub."

Harry could just grunt at this. Damn Remus's immunity to motion sickness. Damn it to hell. "Yeah, well let's get to wherever we are being lodged so we can get adjusted to the time difference."


Harry hauled himself out of bed the early (ungodly so to most other people) next morning to Hedwig's trilling and Isis's weight upon his chest. Both she and Isis had absolutely no interest in going to the frozen mountain range, but they had decide that they would join Harry when he went to the Retreat in the Black Forest.

~Wakey, wakey Isis, I need you to get off of me.~

The snake, grumbling about losing her body temperature pillow, complied. Harry covered her back up with the blanket and cast a warming charm.

~There, rest well, you lazy snake.~

Going into his trunk and getting his little box of herbs, he gave Hedwig a sprig of parsley.

Leon, from the large portion of the room he was taking up, said, *Hey what about me? You know you owe me a cow.*

"I know, Leon. I'll talk to Remus and see what I can do about getting you your bovine. But you may very well have to wait until we either get to London, or even Hogwarts. I'm fairly certain with all the beasties Hagrid takes care of, he can do me the favor of buying a cow for me to give to you. I trust for the most part you are content to do your own hunting?"

*Of course, I just want the bribe you promised me.*

"And you shall receive, but next time make sure you get a delivery date."

*I like your cunning, cub. We might be able to make something out of you yet.*

"Only if I survive Leon, only if I survive."

It was about three in the morning so Harry settled down against Leon's flank and started reading his linking book devoted to magical creatures, with a the search attuned to the more harmless creatures that comprised the third year curriculum.


The next morning, after kicking Remus out of the cabin's kitchen so he wouldn't burn breakfast just by being there, Harry cooked up a halfway decent meal. He hadn't been forced to work in a kitchen in a little under two years, but he still managed to make something edible. This was going to be a long four weeks. Maybe he'd bribe Leon with a pig so he could make a trip to the Manor and get one of the kitchen house-elves. In fact...

Setting down food for himself and Moony, he said, "Remus would it be at all possible for me to order livestock?"

And the Marauder was struck dumb by this non sequitur in the midst of his first bite, his mouth working like a fish out of water, so at least he continued kind of chewing. "And just why do you need livestock, cub?"

"Because I bribed Leon for the trip from the Himalayas with the offer of a cow, and I am hoping for a pair of pigs he'll be willing to take me to London to borrow one of the house-elves from the manor."

Remus blinked at this twisty bit of logic, and then grinned, "I think we can get our hands on two pigs and a cow..."

"We'll need the cow first, I doubt he'll do anything else before I get him his beef."

Remus just nodded and started planning. Harry was a decent cook, but Sirius had sought out the absolute best elves in the staffing of the Manor.

Harry knew that in this area the German Underage Magic laws were not in effect, and so he used a few of the basic household spells to clean up after the meal.


Harry was out in the sunlight several hours later, reading under a tree. Hedwig was perched on a low lying branch, Isis draped around his neck, and Leon was between him and the tree, reading over his shoulder. It wasn't that he didn't want to deal with other people, he just didn't feel like doing more than reading.

Of course, the fact was give people someone seeking quiet, and you get someone who wants some action, ^Hey, you don't smell like a were-anything. Why're you here?^

Looking up, he saw a boy about his age, with a mop of dark blonde hair and muddy brown eyes. ^My uncle is a were. So it's either be here or watch my godfather perv out at beaches around the world. And I don't do well with water.^

The boy harrumphed and took a seat on the ground nearby, ^What is with the menagerie?^

~I resemble that remark.~

"I knew leaving you and Hedwig with access to a television set was going to end poorly. No more Stooges for you, Isis."

^Hey, I barely understand English, and since you seem to speak perfectly fine German, why'd you change languages?^

^Sorry, I wasn't talking to you. Isis here was being a wise ass. As for the 'menagerie', they are my familiars.^

The boy blinked several times at that, worked his mouth like a fish (Harry briefly thought that he should try and get a patent on causing that response), and then shook his head. ^Remind me to never pick a fight when magic is involved with you.^

Harry shrugged and turned the page of his book, ^So, any particular reason you came over to interrupt what may have turned into a nice nap?^

^Yeah, everyone else was playing football, which is a sport I do not enjoy, so I wanted to see what was up with all the animals.^

Harry chuckled and said, ^I'm Harry.^

^Ivan.^


Over the next few days, Harry and Ivan hung out, talking about about what interested them. They were both fans of Quidditch, though Ivan was a supporter of the Bulgarian National Team and the Lovech Lions, one of the underdogs of the Eastern European Professional League whereas Harry followed the Welsh National Team and generally supported Puddlemere United at the professional level. Ivan was not the most serious of students, though he was glad that he now had someone else his own age he could ask for clarification on anything theory that may trouble him. Harry however had very little interest in hockey, and from Ivan's descriptions of the level of violence and fights that broke out, had even less.

They also manged to get into a few paint duels, even going so far as to grab a few more kids and make up teams or have a free for all. Once, they even managed to gather together enough brooms and players for Quidditch. It was a bit of a change of pace for Harry, he played Chaser, because no one else on his team wanted to play the position. Ivan was a Beater on the opposing team. Harry didn't think he did all that badly, but his team still lost when the opposing Seeker got the snitch. Which they were lucky to do, because Harry's team had been leading by one-hundred and twenty points when it had been caught.


In the middle of the week, Remus led a large cow up to the cabin, and nodded at Harry, who went in search of Leon. The gruesome act, which could only be called a feeding frenzy, could not be watched for longer than a few seconds for either of those humans present.

Leon took Harry to London and back for only one pig, the cow having been so very tasty he said. Harry wasn't sure when the next time he would be able to eat beef would be. At least they had someone to cook the meals now.


That Thursday, while he was wandering around the grounds of the Retreat, Harry saw an old man sitting on a stone bench near a fire pit, who called to him, "You the kid that is supposed to be skilled at the Mind Arts who they said would be visiting?"

Groaning internally, but knowing that it would be both rude, and probably useless, to run away, he took a seat across from the man. "Not unless a second one is running around here. So how much of my time are you going to demand?"

Taking a closer look at the man who was now laughing, he reminded Harry of Christopher Lee. And also made Harry think that he had watched one too many movies last summer. He just had to go to the movies every third day. It got him away from the pranks. Well that, and the Dursleys had never allowed it, and anything that the Dursleys had allowed Dudley and forbidden him had to be fun.

"No, no, young man, I'll only teach you as much as you want to be taught. So, would you mind filling me in on what you know?"

So, Harry spent the next couple of hours once more going over just about everything he knew about the defensive and constructive mind arts. The old man shook his head when he went over the theory only lessons he had been given.

"You have a heavy grounding in most of what you'll ever need to know, and you have come to the correct assumption that once you reach a certain point in your learning, you will need to rebuild everything from the ground up. What I think will best serve you right now is teaching you how to harness your instinctual mind and more animalistic characteristics. Have you started to learn the Animagus transformation yet?"

Harry shook his head.

"Well, if and when you do, you'll find what I can teach you gives a few advantages in learning it, and if you manage a large degree of proficiency... well let's just say you won't have very many issues learning to control it. So, would you like some lessons?"

Harry nodded his head excitedly.

"Alrighty then, I am Jack O'Neill, and listen well, as I will only say things once, for reasons that will be obvious to any Occlumens of your ability."


The week that followed started with a lecture on how to tap into and direct the sections of Harry's mind that focused with the more animal side.

"But before you can tap into more instinctual side, you need to be able to identify it," the man's grin as he wound down his lecture was bit disturbing, "and I find the best way to do this is to provoke a person's fight-or-flight response," and the last syllable out of Jack's mouth was accompanied by a spell.

The rest of the period of the time alternated with Jack trying to get Harry to find just where he could find his inner animal. He also spent some time talking about lycanthropes.

"Ultimately, it is the result of a very ancient blood curse. Its actually part of the reason why werewolves don't like to have children. With a normal person, there are even odds of a lesser version of the curse being passed to the child. The poor kid would never transform, but would probably have anger and control issues for all of its life, issues that would get worse with the waxing of the moon.

"Our animal sides are stronger because the curse forcefully replaces our inner beast with a much stronger one that is of course a wolf. There are other cursed shifters who have other animals, like panthers and jackals, but the differences are really only cosmetic. As you make more use of your animalistic side Harry, you'll be strengthening it. So long as you continue to work with it as it grows, you should never really have any control issues. There might be a few issues during the first few months if you become an Animagus, but that is only if you are capable of it."

The night before his birthday came around and Harry had no idea what he would be doing the next day, if anything at all... He knew that the first magical maturation he would go though without blocks on him was not going to be fun. Remus had told him that as a Marauder he wouldn't be going far from the cabin in case Harry needed him.

Harry went to bed that night more than a little fearful, but Hedwig sung him to sleep, and Leon bid him goodnight saying, *Rest, cub, I shall hold the watch until you awake.*


Waking up in the pitch black room, Harry felt like Fred and George had used him for target practice and he had been unable to evade. Groaning, he heaved himself up so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He still had his eyes closed, but he cracked one open to check the alarm clock. It said one in the afternoon, and the things he had been seeing with his Mage Sight had become sharper and more defined.

"Bloody hell."

Isis slithered her way around Harry's feet, saying, ~I was so worried! You were tossing and turning all night, and then you didn't get up when you normally do. And now you are not moving so well!~

~I'll be fine Isis. I may have to take it easy for a few days, but I should be just fine.~

He canceled the spell he had learned to drown out his Mage Sense, and it was no long an assault on his mind. It was as if someone had filtered out the static of a badly tuned radio station. He could feel the presence of each of his familiars, and each was a different melody with a different pressure against his skin.

He could also hear another magical presence in the common room of the cabin. It was probably Remus. And, just barely, he could make out his own presence, though he could only hear what would be the echo of the heaviest bass notes of it.

Prying his eyes open, he could clearly see the auras around each of his companions, and the minor threads of errant magic running through the air.

Stumbling out of the room and dropping himself down into a seat at the table, Harry said, "Food please."

Remus gave Harry a once-over and said, "I had Zinny keep you some food warm from breakfast. Now, do you want that or lunch?"

"Breakfast first, then lunch. Close together. I'm starved."

The aforementioned House-elf came out bearing a tray, and Harry dug in.


Harry spent the rest of that day and the one following resting. He hadn't slept as much as he had since the blocks had been removed. On Monday, the second of August, he and his familiars were then moved, along with everyone else present who wasn't a werewolf, to a building that was more of a bunker than anything else. Everyone was in the building an hour before sunset, and it was locked down half an hour before. He was still recovering, so he spent most of his time either reading while sitting against Leon, or curled up taking a nap snuggled up with the giant wolf. He went to sleep early.

All of the 'normal' witches and wizards present were a more than a little unnerved with such behavior around what would normally be an extremely dangerous creature.


The day after things were quiet as the Werewolf population rested, and Harry continued to do the same. He had finally stopped aching all over that morning, and though he was a little lethargic, he figured he'd mostly be back to normal in time for the rest of the population of the retreat returning to normal tomorrow.

And he was, though he knew he would be careful not to push himself too much. He talked with Ivan for a while about schools (Harry was of course a student of Hogwarts, and Ivan went to Durmstrang) and his lessons with Jack that day finally started to yield results.

However the result was the vague feeling that he was poking a tiger with a feather. When he mentioned that to Jack, he was told, "Lad, you've got to be very, very careful proceeding. From everyone I've talked to, those who've gotten this kind of response tend to be those who when they eventually completed the Animagus transformation have the forms of apex predators. Of the thirty I've talked to, only four haven't, and those four were High Mages or stronger who weren't capable of the transformation, but instead could cow transformed weres by flaring their magical aura. Where most wizards could get away with controlling their inner beast, you're going to have to befriend. And be careful as hell waking it up, animals tend to be grumpy when rudely awoke."

Harry sat quietly for a few minutes before saying, "Why would I need to befriend a part of me?"

Jack's answering grin wasn't as scary as a few of his other ones, but it was a little unnerving, "Well then, if that is how you truly think, you'll have to go easy rousing it, but you should just be able to align your mind to it, and allow your animalistic side function as an extension of yourself. But only if you absolutely believe what you just said."

Harry had noticed something so far in his dealings with Jack, and he couldn't help but ask at the end of the lesson, "Why are you in such good spirits when most of the others here are still limping and moping?"

"Because, young Harry, as a Mind Master, I am the always the one in control of my mind. Always. On Monday, I was in total control of myself without the Wolfsbane Potion. Controlling how the transformation occurs is impossible under the 'Bane, but I can. I can't stop it from happening, but I can slow the transition to and from, and that makes it easier on me."

Harry blinked at that, it was fairly close to something he had read about, something that was a bit of a myth, and the holy grail of werewolves. But it couldn't be. The last mention of anyone being even close was in a two hundred year old history text talking about a werewolf in the thirteen hundreds.

"Just how close are you to becoming a Lycan?"

Jack just smiled sadly and said, "That's impossible for me. I am a minor talent when it comes to magic, and all of the research I've done, and there is very little, points to the werewolf needing to be well above average when it comes to both power and control."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be Harry. That you even know about it says something about the resources you have access to, and your ability to research. Now come, let's see if you can skip several months of tedious work and get within a stone's throw of beginning to master this aspect..."


A person was hiding in the middle of a forest. In the person's hands was a newspaper. Eyes locked on the headline and the accompanying picture showed a focus so total that this person was apparently completely unaware of their surroundings.

A mess of tangled hair and filthy robes, the person looked like they had been put through hell.

The paper had a picture of a twelve year old boy posing with a sword against the corpse of a massive snake.


By week's end, Harry had a dozen animals wandering around his mental defenses, and the defenses themselves were a bit prone to slight alterations that would make breaching the inner mind even harder, if only for the fact that intruders would not be able to map the defenses as they tried to work a way through.

Jack, though he would never say it out loud, wondered if Harry would be capable of the negating all of the disadvantages of being a werewolf if he ever had the misfortune of being infected. Half of him hoped it would never happen. The other half couldn't help but wonder. And then he remembered of the little known fact that permanent curses and powerful magic users did not mix well, and buried the thought deep.

But, he had taught Harry the basis of everything he needed to, but if Harry ever had any questions, he encouraged the young man to write.

On Sunday, Ivan had managed to arrange a large scale paint duel, but the only way he had managed that was by promising that he and Harry were teamed up against the nine others who would be participating. Harry didn't like it, but he agreed. He had been itching to try his Mage Sense out in a situation like this, but he had hoped the odds would be a little closer to two on one instead of four and a half on one.


It was nearing the end of the second hour of the duel. Those nine would just not give up. three of them were splattered with enough paint that if it had been anything even remotely resembling a real duel, they would have long been hexed into a coma or worse. Four more would have probably been down for the count. The remaining two were less marked...

But nothing compared to Ivan and Harry. They had been hit maybe three dozen times altogether, with the majority on Ivan. Nobody had managed to sneak up on Harry yet, and the hits that he did get was when they flanked him and managed to set up a crossfire, and he had managed to avoid the bulk of the fire on those two occasions anyway.

^Ivan, are you getting tired of this too?^

^Yeah.^

Harry then yelled, after a quick sonorous, ^Come on and just admit defeat. It's been two hours and we're getting bored.^

Someone replied, ^We'll be willing to call it a draw!^

Harry shared a look with his companion and they replied in sync, ^Never!^

The duel carried on for another half an hour before the other team finally admitted defeat.


The next day, sitting beneath his favorite tree, Harry was reading. As usual.

Harry had been thumbing his way through the journals of all the previous Lord Potters, and after having gone through the three most recent sets, he had come to a conclusion. He hated politics. Absolutely despised them.

Just the thought of being involved with the people his forefathers describe made him feel ill. And from the general tones of the writing so far, most of them didn't like it either.

"Bah, humbug."


The next day, Harry was sitting at a picnic table, idly scratching out runes on a piece of parchment. He was going to have to figure out whether mental image based inscription spells interfered with the working of empowered runes. It was something that seemed like it was at least worth looking into.

His musing were interrupted when a woman sat down across from him. She had dark brown hair, and bright blue eyes. She had a dreamy look on her face that he had come to associate with Luna when she was describing some of those creatures she was so fond of.

"I am Anora Wayland. Jack spoke well of how you were capable of learning. There is one major flaw in Occlumency, and it is not well known because the method of attack is so rarely used. Everyone just assumes that it protects everything. I was disabused of this notion decades ago, and had to work very hard to uncover what I needed to know.

"An Occlumens fortifies their conscious mind against active intrusion, but it builds no such defenses for when the mind is attacked while it dreams. And since even the most accomplished in the Mind Arts still need to sleep, no matter how little it is, they are still vulnerable to attack.

"This will not be easy to learn. There will not be a short cut of sheer belief and acceptance like with what Jack taught you. If you do accept learning from me, I will be able to give you the most basic exercises for beginning to understand your sleeping mind, but it will be months, if not longer, before you will be able to even begin to protect yourself on that front. And it will be even longer before you are able to use the concepts that protect you while you sleep in your waking mind."

Harry simply nodded. If there was a hole this massive... that wasn't a good thing.

"You are to go to sleep each night attempting to mediate. You want to be able to transition from a waking state to a dreaming state without losing consciousness, and be aware that you are dreaming. Lucid dreaming is the name of this state. This is likely the one objective that will take the longest to achieve. No matter how long it takes, or how often you fail, keep trying.

"Now as what we are ultimately aiming for is the ability to enter a lucid dreaming state every time you go to sleep, the other way to enter this state is to become aware of it while you are already dreaming. One way is to carry a a bit of text that you know by heart in your pocket. If you think you are dreaming read it, look away and then read it again. Three times out of four, if you are dreaming, the text changes. If you reread it a second time, the chances of it changing in a dream rise to nineteen out of twenty. As a part of this, you will also start keeping a dream journal, so that you can improve you dream recall, in order to improve your ability to recognize when you are dreaming.

"As you learn to access and alter your dreams, you can begin to train your subconscious as you have been training your mind to have autonomic responses. Eventually you will learn to fortify, weaponize, and maybe even eventually militarize your dreams. The reason you have to train your subconscious instead of simply building defenses is that any defenses built will be washed away from one dream to the next.

"All of this leads back to lucidity. It is the ultimate defense when one is within their dreamscape. I learned this because a dark wizard had set an astral monster that preyed upon dreams on me. It was three frantic weeks trying to find some way to fight back when I accidentally had a lucid dream that became a nightmare when the beast set upon me for on last time.

"I reshaped my dream in an instant and tore it to ribbons with next to no effort. I got lucky. And so I became determined to not have to rely on that luck ever again. I can bend my dreams to my whims, and my defenses there make most of the mental defenses werewolves like my husband come up with look like mewling kittens in comparison."


The remaining time at the Retreat passed quickly. No one else wanted to go up against either Ivan or Harry, and so the three paint duels they ended up doing were between each other, and the outcomes were even by the end three wins Harry, three Ivan, and one draw. They managed to scrape together one more Quidditch game though, and this time Harry flew as Seeker, while Ivan was Keeper on the same team as he was. This time they won, hands down. Harry's record, as far as it came to playing Seeker, remained unbroken.

Finally the day before the return to London came. Harry was sitting out in front of the cabin, idly leafing through a summery of what he had studied of Arithmancy. He was going to be slightly bored in that class this year, in addition to the expected boredom in Runes. Most of it would comprise of learning which numbers have magical properties, and getting the class onto the same page when it came to mathematics.

Considering that he was still self-studying what he could from the muggle education system, and he was busy muddling his way through pre-calculus, he doubted he would have very many issues. Ivan sat down across from Harry, and said, ^You know, I never asked after your last name.^

Harry grunted, and said, ^Yeah, well, not really fond of the attention my name brings.^

^Well, well, neither am I. I'll tell you mine, if you tell me yours.^

^Potter.^

Ivan blinked a few times, and then said, ^Well, I wasn't really expecting that. Potter, as in The-Boy-Who-Lived, Potter?^

^The one, the only, and Fate's favorite plaything. Now, what's yours?^

^Krum.^

^I assume you are some how related to the Bulgarian National Team Seeker if you dislike the attention that name gets you?^

^Yup. He's my elder brother.^

^Well, it has been enjoyable getting to know you, Ivan. What would your opinion be on trading letters through the school year?^

^I wouldn't mind it all.^


A/N2: Little late in posting this today. Headache just would not go away. Sorry.


Legacy:

This is what used to be chapters 26 and 27 of The Sorting Hat's Stand.

As of 8:15 PM, 2 November, 2012 these were the statistics of those chapters of the story. (Word and Character Counts are by Open Office Writer and do not include chapter titles, book headings, or author's notes, each section break however is four characters: [br].)

Chapter 26:

Word Count: 5,130 | Character Count: 27,679 | Hits: 47,781 | Reviews: 65

Chapter 27:

Word Count: 4,520 | Character Count: 24,164 | Hits: 42,117 | Reviews: 72

Totals:

Word Count: 9,650 | Character Count: 51,843 | Hits: 89,898 | Reviews: 137

New Total Word Count: 12,174 | New Total Character Count: 65,616