A/N Here is the next instalment. Hope you enjoy. Sorry for the delay, life tends to get busy.
Strolling Along: I agree with some of your points, but Harry is not perfect. He might have learned of war and power, but not much of relationships, so he has not grown mature in all areas. What you call his 'pathetically weak' conclusions are indeed that, he is wrong so why would his conclusion make 100% sense. I have reread your comments numerous times and taken the time to go through latter chapters to see if I can improve them. I wrote you a lengthy reply, but I don't think that it was sent.
Exhausted, Harry spent the greater part of Sunday morning sleeping. He should not really have been tired, considering that he had not done much the previous day. The gateways that he had woven were taxing, but he was used to doing more on a daily basis. His lack of a goodnight's sleep was probably a factor. Much of the night was spent tossing and turning after he had gone to bed. Just the idea of being so near Ginny again was enough to make his head spin and his heart yearn to be with her. The disappointment that came with knowing that she would not be working today was perhaps the greatest reason for his utter lack of motivation to get out of bed.
Eventually, however, Harry managed to swing both his legs out from under the covers. The first thing he did after he woke was to go downstairs to talk to the owner. "She said she needs to get ready for school today," the owner had replied after Harry asked him if Ginny would be working during the day. The answer was expected, he had just hoped that he was wrong, or that she would show up this morning. Defeated, he ordered some pumpkin juice. Taking a few graceful strides with his drink in hand, he joined Moiraine at one of the tables for what appeared to be lunch.
"I always had you down as an early riser." Moiraine raised an eyebrow at his exhausted appearance. To be honest, he felt worse than he looked. That was saying something, considering the bags under his eyes and his pale face.
"I needed to relieve some friends of my possessions which could have caused me a few headaches at Hogwarts," Harry replied bluntly, ignoring her stares. The fact that he studied Ginny for half the night was left unsaid. The truth was he had been too haunted by dreams of his friends being angry with him to have gotten much sleep. Ron shouting and Hermione's admonitions were bad enough, but Ginny telling him that she did not want to see him made Harry scream himself awake half a dozen times at least. "I could never love a liar," she had shouted, the words still reverberated in his mind.
Taking time to consider, Moiraine smoothed her robes with her hands. "What was so important for you to stay awake all night?"
"The Marauders Map," he replied after taking a sip of his drink. She raised an eyebrow questioningly. "The map is unique, with it I can see the location of anyone within the school as well as their name." He placed emphasis on the word 'name'.
"Is that so?" she said suddenly curious. "I would like to take a look at it."
"Sure," Harry replied. "It is in my room, I will show it to you later." She seemed pleased by the reply and the conversation ended. The two sat in silence while he brooded over his dreams, his pumpkin juice untouched.
After lunch, Harry and Moiraine went back to Gringotts and were pleased to discover that the Goblins had purchased a house for Harry in Hogsmeade under Moiraine's name. After signing a mountain of parchments, they retrieved the keys. Studying a map to find the location of the house, they travelled to Hogsmeade by means of a Portkey provided by Gringotts.
It was a small two bedroom detached house with two floors. Arriving on the front lawn, Harry had to smile at the sight. Even though it was under Moiraine's name, this was the first house that he had purchased. The green grass and well cared for flowers told Harry that the person who had lived here before was meticulous. Even if he would not be spending much time here, he was determined to keep it in good condition.
Unlocking the front door, they stepped inside. The wooden floors provided warmth and the walls were painted a nice calming beige. Without furnishings it felt cold and empty, regardless of the floor.
"This is... interesting," Moiraine spoke to herself while walking through the house on her own. Occasionally her fingers would run over some object that she was not used to. Harry grinned, it was quite different from anything that Moiraine was used to.
"It is perfect," Harry replied, as he made his way to a window that overlooked the garden. Like the front, the green lawn was immaculate and all the flowers looked in perfect health. The rose garden looked like it had been a favourite corner. The garden's only small bench was situated in front of the roses.
Leaning against the wall, he realized just how much he wanted to share a place like this with Ginny. He could imagine them living in a home together. When the war was over, nothing would be better than to live a quiet life with Ginny. The gardens would need to be much larger, considering the amount of Quidditch that would be played. There was no doubt in his mind about what their children would be doing.
The house needed a few furnishings, not much but the basics needed to be bought: two beds, a few couches, and other magical appliances. Ordinary refrigerators and stoves did not work around so much magic. Thankfully, Hogsmeade – being a magical town – allowed them to easily find what was needed. The furnishings arrived later that afternoon. Once Harry had explained that they were new in town, the people were kind enough to deliver their purchases to them before nightfall.
The witches and wizards weren't overly friendly, but rather cautious, though kind of heart. These were suspicious times and they were hesitant with their aid. A large number of people arrived together to help with the furnishings, each one watching the other's back. Fortunately, by the time everything was inside and ready, the tension had lessened considerably. Moiraine had a natural charm about her, especially when she wanted to. She had an innate ability to make people at ease around her, something that he had witnessed frequently in the past.
The large, impressive structure of Hogwarts could be seen from nearly anywhere in town. The massive wards of the school, almost its most impressive feature, pulsed and flared to Harry's eyes. The wards formed shining beacon that constantly reminded him of pictures he had seen of the Northern Lights, except their form was man made and more constant. He knew that for every pulsing ward that he could see another, unseen, woven by saidar, would also be there.
With everything in place they settled down for the night. Moiraine read her new books while Harry began to study from his textbooks. He might not need NEWTS, but he was determined to do well. Discipline and hard work were something that he had learned a lot about, especially from Lan and Rand. A lack of focus might not kill you, but it could kill the man or woman on either side of you. His throat constricted at that thought. It would do so every time. He clenched his fists as the hollow feeling in his chest returned, a bitter reminder of failure.
Eventually in the early hours of the morning, he slipped into bed and fell asleep. His trunk was packed. The only object not inside was his sword. That would remain by his side until he had to stow it. It was stupid, in all honesty. He knew the sword did not mean much to him in terms of safety. Harry only sought comfort in the knowledge that it was there.
As the minutes ticked by, his eagerness grew. He would be seeing Ginny again in a few hours. The hollowness in his chest subsided. His breathing slowed as he drifted off to sleep.
Waking rather late the next morning, he rushed to get ready. He did not have much to do except to shower and dress. Waking up at eight meant that his time was rather limited. The desire to arrive before the Weasleys urged him to move even faster. Shouting his goodbyes, he travelled to a secluded corner at Kings Cross Station.
"May the Light shine upon your path," the distant voice of Moiraine wafted through the gateway before it dissolved. He fervently hoped that it was.
At the station, he waited patiently for Ginny and his other old friends to arrive from the Burrow. Glancing around, he did not see any signs of them yet. They still had twenty minutes before the train was set to depart. He was sure that they would be late, so he passed through the stone wall and onto Platform 9 ¾. Finding an out-of-the-way pillar, he casually leaned against it. Not for the first time during the past two days, he wished that he had a sword hilt on which to rest his arm. His sword was now safely tucked away inside his trunk. He could not risk the sword being felt in the narrow confines of the train. The hard benches would probably make wearing it near impossible anyway, he thought regretfully.
As predicted, the small group of three Weasleys, accompanied by Hermione, appeared on the platform ten minutes before the train was to leave. They all appeared the same, but different. Ron had grown taller, his shoulders broad and firm. Hermione, like Ginny, had grown into a young woman. Her features had lost their childlike appearance. Even her hair had been tamed slightly, and Harry felt himself missing her bushy brown hair. Even so, he could not deny her beauty. Mrs Weasley, however, was the same as before. Perhaps a few more signs of age had crept in, but not much. Pushing himself away from the wall, he approached them unnoticed.
"Hello, Ginny," he greeted warmly from behind. It was not difficult to sound enthusiastic. Being overly friendly was the problem. Sounding too familiar might raise a number of unwanted questions. His gaze shifted to Hermione for a fraction of a second. Her attitude remained unchanged, allowing him to relax. If there was one person in this group that could be troublesome, it was her.
"Rand," Ginny said excitedly. Spinning round on her heel, she faced him. Her sudden movements sent her vibrant red hair flying around her neck, enthralling him. "I hope that you will be joining us on the train?" The words left her mouth even before she stopped turning. The desire to kiss her only increased when she bit her lower lip, anxious about his reply. At that moment, Harry knew that he could crush her spirit. A single word and she would be broken.
"Sure, I have nowhere else to go, really," he replied, running his hands through his longish red hair. The action ensured that it remained messy. She let go of her lip and beamed up at him. Only then did he allow himself to study her. Her clothes, slightly more revealing, hugged her skin tightly. Every curve of her already enticing figure was accentuated. His heart beat slightly harder. Pushing down his desires, he managed not to blush, barely. It appeared as if Ginny had made her choice. She was willing to give him a chance. The problem being that he was not sure what he wanted.
"Oh, where are my manners. Rand, this is my mother," Ginny said, gesturing towards her mother. Mrs Weasley, who had remained silent, was studying him intently. Those mother's eyes, he was sure, saw much.
"A pleasure to meet you Mrs…" Harry greeted formally, leaving the last name hanging hoping that someone would provide a last name.
"Oh... Weasley," Ginny said softly, blushing at her own omission. Her hands worked nervously.
"Mrs Weasley," Harry said again, giving his head a slight bow. Old habits die hard. Mrs Weasley on the other hand took the formal greeting well. Her eyes shifted. The calculating gaze disappeared, allowing her motherly warmth to shine through.
"Oh, such manners," she muttered under her breath self-consciously. "It is nice to meet you as well, Rand," she replied with a slight tremor in her voice. Harry couldn't help but feel mournful at her greeting. He wanted nothing more than for her to crush him in one of her famous motherly hugs. If there was one thing that he missed more than Ginny, it was Mrs Weasley's love for him. She was his adopted mother, the only woman who had ever really cared for him. He knew that his mother had loved him, but Mrs Weasley was all that he ever experienced.
"This is Ron, my brother, and Hermione Granger, his girlfriend," Harry smiled at Ginny and almost thanked her for providing Hermione's last name.
"Nice to meet you," Harry said extending his hand carefully, ensuring that his Dragon markings were not revealed. That would come, but hopefully only after they knew him a little better. He felt like cringing, they would never learn who he was if he kept lying to them.
Ron and Hermione both shook his hand. "Rand," Ron said stiffly, eyeing him wearily. There was no hate like before, just weariness. Ron was a protective brother, but not overly so any more. Hermione at least saw him in a good light. He supposed that she would make an effort for any man who made Ginny smile. From what he gathered, there had been no one and little cheerfulness in Ginny's life. Yet, he was not fooled. Behind those placid eyes, Hermione's mind was at work, trying to determine what kind of man he was.
With the introduction made, he gave them some space to say their farewells. He did, shamefully, eavesdrop again while he made as if he was studying the train. He felt guilty about invading their private time, but he could not help wanting to know what they thought of him. That, at least, was the lie he told himself to justify his actions. The brevity of the farewell surprised him.
"He seems rather decent," Mrs Weasley whispered to Ginny so that Ron would not overhear. "Take care of yourself, dear," she continued. Harry could hear her pulling Ginny into a tight embrace.
"Thank you, mum," Ginny replied. He could sense the smile in her words.
A few moments later Ginny stood alongside him. "Let's go find a compartment."
"Sure, lead the way Miss Weasley," Harry said, gesturing for her to lead.
From behind, he heard Ron muttering about Harry while talking to Mrs Weasley. Having let go of saidin, Harry could not make out the words. Entering the narrow corridors of the train made him wary. It was the ideal place for an ambush. Feeling exposed, he forced himself to let go of his paranoia. No one was going to attack him here. All the same, he felt naked walking around without a sword on him.
Looking ahead at Ginny, he felt more confused than ever. If only his training and experiences had taught him to deal with his feelings. Matters of the heart were as new to him now as they were when he was fifteen.
A few compartments down the corridor, Ginny found one that was still empty. Having said farewell to Mrs Weasley, Ron and Hermione were just behind Harry as Ginny slid open the compartment door. Maybe it was Harry's imagination, but he was sure that he could feel Ron's calculating gaze on his back.
Once inside, Harry hoisted his trunk up onto the rack above him with effortless ease. Turning back to Ginny, he found her struggling to lift hers. "Here let me," Harry said, taking the trunk with one hand. The weight took him by surprise and he almost dropped it. "What do you have in here?" He laughed as he was forced to place his other hand beneath it, in order to add its strength in the fight against gravity.
"Not much really," Ginny shrugged, looking faintly embarrassed.
"Only half her bloody room," Ron snorted, causing Harry to start laughing. It felt good to be laughing, and soon Ron was joining him with his own laughter. Even though the last memories he had of Ron was his stupid bickering about his relationship with Ginny, Ron had still been a good friend over the years. With Ginny's trunk eventually secured on top of the rack, Harry settled down into the corner by the window.
Hermione, the consummate witch, lifted her trunk with a levitation charm before she sat down next to Ron. Oddly enough, they were seated exactly like they had been two years ago. Once settled, he noticed the unimpressed glares that Hermione and Ginny were giving Ron and him.
There was no malice in those glares. Ignoring them, he knew that he would have to pay the price someday. Though the seating was similar, things were different. Ron and Hermione were noticeably closer to each other, while he was noticeably further away from Ginny. Then there was Luna, or rather the fact that she was absent. Curious, he almost asked about her. Thankfully, he bit back the words before they were uttered. He would find out soon enough he supposed. If history was anything to go by, stupid House politics lay at the root of her absence.
With a lurch, the train began to move. The station vanished quickly, replaced by a few buildings before the countryside came into view. Leaning his forehead against the window, he closed his eyes. He was going home. Strange as it seemed, Hogwarts was his home.
"So where do you come from?" Hermione asked. The sudden question broke Harry's thoughts of Hogwarts. The warm feeling of knowing that he was returning vanished. Trust her to be the one to break the mood by asking questions.
Taking a deep but silent breath, he steadied himself before opening his eyes. "I don't really come from any one place, really. We travelled a lot: England and then all over really, never staying in one place for more than a year," Harry replied glumly, avoiding Hermione's gaze deliberately. He had become good at hiding his half-truths, but Hermione was very good at reading people - well as good as any person here. Those intelligent piercing eyes were always studying, filing information.
Honestly, he had travelled a lot, it was just that the names would be unknown to them. Ginny and Ron might shrug it off, but Hermione would know that they did not exist. Who would have heard of Andor or Illian or even Tear? Some of the great cities that he had travelled to.
"That must have been interesting. I have always wanted to travel," Hermione's excited voice promised more questions. Mentally rolling his eyes, Harry waited for more.
"Not really," Harry said, emphasizing his glumness. It was not difficult, considering that it did depress him somewhat. "After a time it just becomes a nuisance." Hermione would never be able to understand how he longed for stability, and most of all family.
"Oh, but surely you saw amazing places," she added leaning forwards as if that would make him say more. Those eager eyes burned with desire to learn.
"Hermione, leave the poor guy," Ginny interrupted leaning closer to her friend. Her voice was gentle, but her posture indicated a firmness behind her words. He almost smiled; the strong Ginny was still there, willing to stand up for those she cared about. The thought made him pause, she really did care about him now.
"Thank you," Harry replied, turning back to stare out the window, the true meaning behind his words unsaid.
"You play Quidditch?" Ron asked eagerly. They were the first positive words, directed at him, that Harry had heard coming out of his friend's mouth in a long time.
"I have played before, but with all our travels I haven't played in a while." The reply came quickly and naturally. There was no dishonesty, just plain facts, he could not keep the obvious longing to play out of his voice. The eagerness that blazed behind his gray eyes would have given away his desire even if his words had not. Eager, not only about the topic, but about having his friend again.
"Great," Ron almost shouted, clapping his hands together as if warming himself up. "So what position did you play?" The question came as Ron's eyes scanned him from head to toe. In that instant he knew why Ron was meant to be with Hermione. Those eyes, just as eager as hers, desperate to learn and know. Those Weasley eyes kept roaming, trying to determine the ideal position for Harry. The days of the scrawny little seeker were gone, but perhaps his increased strength and weight would not be too great a disadvantage. Actually, some increased bulk would aid him in a physical game, such as the one against Slytherin.
Only then did Harry see the small pin, which indicated Ron as the Gryffindor Quidditch captain. Mentally he berated himself, he should have noticed earlier. Even if he wanted to make excuses, he would not. There reason was simple enough, he was learning just how great a distraction Ginny really was.
"I use to play Seeker," Harry answered after thinking for a while. There was no point in lying. If he had said Chaser, while proving incapable of throwing a Quaffle, they would have been suspicious.
"Brilliant," Ron said eagerly, his brown eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Ginny here is our Seeker at the moment." Harry sat up a little straighter at Ron's comment. Harry had known Ginny to be a good flyer, but he had never imagined her as a Seeker. She had spoken about Quidditch, regularly in fact. It was one, of many, things they could truly spend hours talking about. During all those conversations, he had been sure that she had wanted to be a Chaser, even if never stated explicitly.
"Don't act so shocked, Rand," Ginny said with a wicked smile. "I bet that I would fly a few circles around you, given half the chance." Harry's mouth shut, he had been unaware that he was gaping.
The surprise faded, allowing a genuine smile to break out on his face. He could definitely see her as a Seeker. "I look forward to it, Miss Weasley." She was simply radiant after the comment. The playful, yet dangerous, glint in her brown eyes was conjuring images that Ron most definitely would not approve of.
Ron tried hard not to burst out laughing. He failed. "Either Rand here has had got some guts, or he is just plain stupid," Ron managed to say between breaths from the other side of the compartment. Relaxing for what felt like the first time in years, Harry joined him. His laughter, though, was more restrained. Hardship could not vanish in a day.
There were no meetings to attend, and no kings, queens, or nobles to entertain. The Wizarding world was so much simpler than the one he had left. The sword lying in his trunk and the exposed feeling that its absence provoked were proof of that. Harry had left a world where you had to watch your back, as a knife could end up in it. Here the blades were cutting words or cold stares, rarely was it any more. No, in this place there was only one real enemy, Voldemort. Even Draco Malfoy was little more than a nuisance. Harry knew who his target was and what he had to do – one simple task, and then he could truly begin to live the life he wanted with his friends.
"Rand… Rand…" Someone was calling for Rand. Harry kept looking out the window, lost in his own world. The rolling hills, covered in thick green grass, were bathed in the afternoon sun. Everything seemed so calm and peaceful, yet somewhere out there was the darkest wizard to have lived in centuries. The man he was destined to kill or be killed by.
"Rand!" Ginny said loudly near his ear. The proximity of her voice rather than the name brought him back to reality.
"Yeah, sorry… thinking," Harry replied quickly. He could still feel her warm breath where it touched his skin. "It's just..." his mind froze as the warmth faded. "So beautiful outside. I think am coming to like the British countryside." He had always loved it. Even though he had seen countless lands and been to dozens of cities, he still felt at home here in Britain. No other place would ever make him feel the way this place did.
"I suppose," Ron muttered hurriedly. "So what House do you think you will be in? If you want to steal Ginny's spot then you will have to be in Gryffindor."Of course, he had more important things to discuss.
Harry shook his head deliberately, trying to act confused. "Houses? I do not know anything about different Houses. Surely it's just alphabetical?" he asked, hoping that they would elaborate. McGonagall had explained most during their visit to the Headmaster, but he was not about to tell them.
Of course, the task of explaining rested on the shoulders of one person. "There are four Houses," Hermione answered, taking control of the discussion. Ron and Ginny rolled their eyes. Harry felt like doing as much himself. "Gryffindor, which we three are in, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and then Slytherin."
"What does it matter apart from which team I play for?" That was actually an interesting question, one that he had no answer for but supposed it was similar to the different Ajahs for the Aes Sedai. Each group provided a place for similar people to be around one another, except you chose which Ajah you wanted to be part of. That in itself provided a better spread of people. The problem with the system of Houses or Ajahs was that it led to prejudices. A more random selection would improve inter-house relations. The way it was now, few people outside your house attracted your attention. If that was not enough, politics dissuaded most people from trying to make friends in other Houses in the first place.
"Well for starters we are sorted by an old hat…"
"Really?" Harry said, feigning surprise.
"Yes," Hermione replied, glaring at him for interrupting her. She would probably turn into a professor, he surmised. With a look like the one she just gave him, he was sure. "The hat studies you and then decides which house best suits you. Gry…"
"No need to tell me. I would rather not choose a favourite before the Sorting. That way I will not be influenced," Harry cut her off before leaning back into the corner of the compartment. Ginny just sat there staring at him, her brown eyes searching. What was she looking for? Or more importantly what did she see?
"Well said, Rand," Ginny said proudly with a faint smile. "I wish more people had that attitude toward the House system. Though, I suppose that would change once you get yourself sorted. House pride is a big thing at Hogwarts."
"If you say so," Harry yawned. "Where I come from people had been separated. In the end they had to unite to overcome a common enemy. I hope that the lesson will not be learned too late here." He brushed his hair with his hand knowing that the Wizarding world was too stubborn to change. The nervous glances that they shot towards each other confirmed his suspicions. "Well I hope that Voldemort…" Three gasps echoed around the compartment. Harry shook his head, "it is only a name people." Neither Ron nor Hermione looked convinced. Ginny, on the other hand, appeared to understand. By the way her lips moved, he could tell that she was repeating the name to herself.
Harry, one of the most powerful and influential men, had risen to the Amyrlin Seat of the Black Tower. He was equalled only by the Amyrlin Seat of the White Tower, a young girl. She was no more than a few years older than him, he guessed, though he was never sure. The women of the White Tower never revealed their ages and Rand had never told him. The most important attribute of being the Amyrlin Seat, apart from ruling the Tower, was that he was of all Ajahs and of none. Prejudices had to pushed aside and decisions made for the good of all, not one. Above both Amyrlin Seats, but with no real office, was Rand Al'Thor the Dragon Reborn.
Harry almost chuckled at the thought of Moiraine forcing herself to call him by his name even with the added honorific. It was proper for people to refer to him as "Father," just as the Amyrlin Seat of the White Tower was called "Mother." He had to admit it was nice to hear his own name again even if it was Rand at the moment.
"Things are a bit strained with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his followers," Hermione added, trying to defend the state of the school. He chuckled, perhaps people will be able to say Voldemort's name when he is dead and buried.
"When you are threatened, that is precisely the time when you should be united. When trouble brews around you, then you should let go of your pride to help those that need to be helped. Standing up against the dark forces of the world requires that all people should be united," Harry lectured loudly. His eyes blazed with fire and the conviction in his voice was almost overpowering.
"I… yes… but," Hermione tried again to explain the circumstances. Harry would not let her.
"There are no buts." His voice was suddenly low. The fire extinguished and all that remained was a hard shell. He could see all three of them shiver at his expression. "Sorry," Harry said.
Before they could reply, the compartment door swung open to the familiar drawl of Malfoy. Harry seized saidin and revelled in its life giving purity. Ginny alongside him grabbed her wand and his skin began to tingle. He almost smiled, as goosebumps formed on his forearms. "Oh, look, the little Weaslette and the Mudblood found themselves a new friend, and a redhead to boot. I am so glad that you finally decided to stop pining over that stupid Potter boy."
Ginny stiffened considerably and Hermione looked like she was about to breath fire. Ron glared angrily, his wand firm in his hand.
"I can see that you are not welcome in this compartment, Mr…"
"Malfoy," the boy said proudly.
"Malfoy, thank you. If you would be so kind as to leave my friends alone it would be appreciated," Harry said in a calm controlled voice. It was not loud, but it contained a weight behind it that had managed to make grown men run before. He had been taught that a quiet hard voice was far more effective than any shout.
Malfoy glared at him and Harry's gray eyes grew cold, drawing deeper on saidin. He held the boy's gaze. Paling slightly, Malfoy averted his eyes. "Fine, since you asked so nicely." With that he turned to leave.
"Blimey, Rand," Ron said, ogling at him. He did not need to say more, the cold hard Harry had surfaced. Ignoring them, he closed his eyes before reluctantly letting go of the One Power. The void slipped away and his senses dulled again. His features warmed and a tight anxious smile graced his face. The power was still around him, he could sense it just out of reach, waiting to be called upon again.
With the Power gone, he felt tired and numb. He really needed to exercise again. Growing strong in the One Power was much like physical exercise. The more you worked it, the more you got in return. Each man or woman had a limit to the amount they would ever be able to channel safely. Being only seventeen he was not near his potential.
When Malfoy had entered, Harry had felt the familiar tingle that told him a woman was holding saidar near him. He knew the source of the sensation had to be Ginny. It had to be her, before he left he had felt it near her. Moiraine had also told him that she could sense Ginny's power. Ginny was still alive, but she would need to be taught by Moiraine before the One Power managed to kill her. There was a chance that she would learn to control it on her own, but he would rather not risk it. Harry needed to get Ginny to Moiraine.
Only one in four people, man or woman, who was born with the ability to channel survived long once they began to channel on their own. The One Power was as wonderful as it was deadly. The desire to touch it, to draw upon more than you could safely wield, was almost overwhelming. A strong person was needed to guide you through the process, to help you until you could control the One Power and yourself safely.
The room fell silent. The timing was perfect, he could tell the group now who he was. He wanted to say, it had to be said. For Ginny's sake most of all. His mouth worked, but no sound escape. There was a knock on the door, before it slid open. The moment passed.
A tiny head poked through the door, Luna. Her eyes scanned the room until they settled on him. That knowing gaze, penetrating. "Just thought I lost somebody," she muttered dreamily. Then as Ginny tried to introduce Rand, she began to close the door. "But I found him," her words drifted back through the last bit of the opening.
"That was odd," Ginny laughed, staring at Hermione.
"It was," Hermione agreed.
"That was Luna Lovegood. An old friend of mine. She is a bit strange, but a kind soul," Ginny explained.
"She is a bit odd," Harry agreed. Could Luna really have known who he was? No, it was impossible. With that, he pushed all thoughts of her out his mind.
Little more was discussed as the journey continued. With the lull in conversation, Harry felt like retrieving his sword. It had been a few days since he last practiced his forms. The feeling of being one with the sword as he moved between the various forms kept him going. He could slowly drain his emotions and fears into each movement. It was called the Oneness to blade masters. Similar to the void that he formed while channelling, it had nothing to do with the One Power though.
Eventually they reached the Hogsmeade train station, forcing Harry to begin interacting again.
"Are we there?" he asked, feigning ignorance. The darkness outside the compartment hid the school and town from view.
"Yeah," Ginny said excitedly, jumping to her feet, before giving Harry another shy glance as her eyes returned to her trunk.
"I'll get that," Harry grinned, getting the meaning behind her looks.
Lifting his arms up to reach for the trunk, he heard Hermione whisper to Ginny, "He seems well trained." Both girls giggled, but he heard no reply from Ginny. Using two hands this time, he retrieved the trunk before handing it to Ginny. He gave no indication that he had heard them.
Stepping out of the train, he was overwhelmed by the familiar warmth and feeling of home. With a smile he fell in beside the pair. Immediately he was halted by Ron. "Sorry mate, but I think that you should be over there." The red haired boy's finger was pointing down the platform to where Hagrid was standing, his voice booming over the noise calling the first years.
"Really?" Harry replied exasperated. "I am not really a first year, am I?"
"I am afraid you are," Ginny interjected reluctantly. Her brown eyes looked slightly downcast. "You need to be sorted and all, so I guess Ron is right." Hermione nodded in agreement.
Giving in to the inevitable, Harry said farewell. "See you later then." He gave a last wave good bye and turned to leave.
The solitary walk towards the growing number of first years irritated him. He had forgotten about the journey to the castle in the boats. He was an adult, not some stupid little child who needed to be awed by the vastness of the lake and the enormity of the school. Surely, he could have just waited inside the entrance hall of the school.
Nevertheless, he was hurried into a small boat with only one other first year. The boats usually took four, but he was much larger than any of the other kids.
Inside the entrance hall, Harry stood to one side. Even if he hadn't, he still would have stood out, the tallest first year barely reached his chest.
"Good evening, children," Professor McGonagall's voice echoed through the room as she rounded a corner to come into view. She was dressed more formally than usual in an emerald green dress, the same that she wore during his first year, if he remembered correctly. "I am the Deputy Headmistress here at the school and I would like to welcome you all to Hogwarts. I hope that you will enjoy your time here at the school while striving to learn." Her voice had always seemed so stern, he could remember her words in his first year terrifying him. He had been so afraid of her that he would have done anything to remain in her good books. Now she just looked and sounded like any of the Aes Sedai whom he knew. That was a compliment indeed, Aes Sedai were renowned for their presence. He was just not in awe of them any more, he was a leader amongst the Aes Sedai. Even Moiraine who was with him rarely intimidated him any more.
"You will shortly be sorted into one of four Houses. They are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Slytherian and Hufflepuff. The House that you will be sorted into tonight will be the one in which you will stay for the next seven years. Your actions in class and out of it might lead to points being taken or removed from your House. In the end of the year the House with the most points will win the House Cup…"
Harry stood quietly, not bothering to listen to her explaining the inner workings of Hogwarts. All that he wanted to do was to get sorted again. He just hoped that the Sorting Hat would not put up a fight about him being sorted for the second time. Then again, the Hat would go through his memories, so perhaps it would understand.
"Ready?"
A few nods and nervous cries of yes rang out from amongst the students. That was when he noticed her studying him. With a quick jerk of his head, he nodded towards her. She frowned slightly before turning to open the door to the hall.
The slight buzz of noise inside suddenly warped and turned into a loud torrent of voices and sounds as the door opened. Hundreds of excited students who had not seen their friends since the previous school year were having animated discussions.
Feeling slightly tense at being paraded in front of so many people, he slipped into the void. A calm washed over him. Nothing outside of the void could affect him. His emotions poured into the flame that burned vividly in his mind. He could hear every noise, sense every pair of eyes upon him, but they did not interfere with his calm. At the Gryffindor table he spotted Ginny, Ron and Hermione. Ginny gave him a slight wave, which he ignored. He could not be touched by sentiments so deep within the void.
He stood straight, his head held high facing the front of the hall where Dumbledore was standing behind the dais. His voice was loud and everyone in the hall quieted down. The ceremony was about to begin.
As the list began he visualized his sword forms in his mind. The Heron Wading in the Rushes, a practice form, flowed smoothly into the Falcon Stoops, an aggressive strike at an opponent. Working rapidly through the various forms in his mind, he waited patiently for his name to be called. He would probably be last, considering his unusual circumstances.
Concentrating on each of his movements, his body remained motionless. Inside his own world he was moving swiftly with deathly precision. Outside he was a cold wall of calm, his gray eyes staring ahead. If there had been a breeze inside the hall, it would not have dared touch his black cloak for fear of disturbing him.
More and more students were observing him. The first years were scurrying about and fidgeting nervously. Their movements made his calm all the more pronounced in contrast.
Eventually the last first year was sorted. When the cheers from the Houses died down, the name "Damodred, Rand," was called out by McGonagall. Some might have thought him so lost in thought that he would not react.
Instead, he began to stride confidently towards the front as soon as his name was mentioned. Adopting the walk, the Cat Crosses the Courtyard, it appeared as an arrogant saunter to nearly anyone in the hall. To the trained eye, however, it was a movement that left the body at complete ease. His body was loose and ready for any threat, movements were made on the balls of his feet. His eyes were scanning, his chin was up. He was arrogant.
Holding onto saidin, he was prepared to defend himself. Flows of Fire, Earth, and Air were held at the ready. He could attack with balls of fire while conjuring a power-wrought sword in his hand before a man could blink. Death was not something that he shied away from, though he avoided it as far as possible.
The three-legged stool with the hat came nearer. Hundreds of eyes were staring into his back. McGonagall lifted the Sorting Hat. Her gaze was level and deep in thought. How far did she trust Rand Damodred? He was sure that it was not far.
Flinging his cloak around the stool he sat down and waited. A shadow from the hat darkened his features and a few Hufflepuffs in front of him jerked slightly before he disappeared behind the brim of the hat.
"Well, well," a voice inside his head spoke.
"It has been awhile since we talked," Harry replied to the hat.
"Harry? Is that really you? If it is, then I cannot sort you again," the hat replied and was about to speak aloud.
"Wait!" Harry commanded sternly inside his mind and he heard the hat gasp. "Study me and sort me as Rand Damodred!"
"But…"
"There are no buts. I need to be sorted, so sort me. The world does not need to know who I am yet! Voldemort does not need to know that I am here!" Harry's voice was stern. Even if it was not spoken aloud, it still reverberated with authority.
"If you insist," the hat muttered. A few gasps and cries came from the hat as it shifted through his memories from the point of his last sorting. Each time the voice sounded fainter and shakier. "I… Gryffindor appears to have a been good choice, but from what I have seen any of the other house would serve you well. Then there is your position to be of all and of none. What am I to do, how can I sort you?"
"Figure it out," Harry replied, beginning to feel agitated. He was exposed. He could not see, only hear what was going on around him. Any man who wished it could kill him now.
"I could choose a random House, but I see that you have certain feelings for a girl in Gryffindor… I will not tempt fate, there is really only one House for you…"
The voice changed from inside his mind to a loud voice ringing around the hall, "Gryffindor!"
The hat then muttered so that only Harry and McGonagall could here. "As true a Gryffindor as there has ever been, but a man for all Houses."
Removing the hat, she studied him intently again. "Thank you, Professor," Harry said, before moving off towards the Gryffindor table to the resounding cries and cheers from his old – or should he say new – House.
Walking along the table, he ignored the attempts of others to have him sit by them. Instead, he walked straight up to Ginny and settled down alongside her. Only then did he release the void.
"That took longer than average," Hermione noted, almost as soon as he was seated. Trivial things never seemed to pass her by.
"We almost had a chat," Harry replied, taking a sip of pumpkin juice from a goblet that had appeared. With his face partially hidden, he turned to face the Headmaster who was making a few last minute announcements. In doing so, he missed her reply.
"I hope that you will enjoy the coming year. Without delaying any further, let the feast begin." With the almost non-existent speech over, Harry suppressed a laugh. Dumbledore had always been a bit mad.
Food appeared on the tables and enthusiastic students began to pile various delicacies onto their plates. It smelled incredible. For a few moments, Harry sat staring, he had forgotten much.
"I am glad that you are in Gryffindor," Ginny's voice came from next to him. So wrapped up in memory, he almost missed it.
"Me too," Harry replied, grinning slightly. Ginny had the uncanny ability to put a smile on his face. She rarely had to do anything, her presence alone was enough to make him happy. With his mood on the up, he began to select his own favourites from the selection on the table.
"So will you be trying out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team?" Ron asked, leaning over the table a few minutes later. "You have the look of someone who can keep his balance a little. That will serve you well on a broom."
Harry snorted, but not so that Ron could hear, only Ginny. "Thank you, Ron. I might, but I will wait and see."
"Please try," Ginny begged, making puppy dog eyes. "I really want to play Chaser and if you are half as good a Seeker as…" she paused and her head jerked around away from him. The playful look vanished, taking along with it the glint in her brown eyes. Harry felt like wrapping an arm around her. It felt odd seeing her react upon mentioning his name. Guilt did not begin to describe his feelings.
"The previous Seeker, disappeared a few years ago. He was a bloody good Seeker," Ron explained to Harry. "You might have heard of him, Harry Potter was his name."
Harry could not say that he hadn't, pretending as if he was ignorant of the Boy-Who-Lived would only draw unwanted attention to his past. "Yeah, it is a pity that the world lost a man like him. My mom explained his whole history to me when we arrived in England. It is a pity that he went missing."
Ginny turned back, her eyes slightly red from tears that she had fought. "He was something special and we should never forget him." Her voice quivered slightly from what he could only assume was her raging emotions. Harry stared at her through his gray unblinking eyes, which were so much colder than his green eyes of his youth.
"It is okay to still love him," Harry replied and her eyes widened in horror for a few moments. Those eyes of hers were searching. They seemed almost pleading. Finding either nothing, or an answer, tears began to leak out of them in earnest. Feeling as if his heart were being pulled from his chest, he willed himself to act. Slowly, cautiously, he placed an arm around her shoulders and held her while she cried.
Ron and Hermione sat opposite them, staring at Harry, their mouths hanging open. It was as if they thought him crazy. He did not care, all that he wanted to do now was comfort Ginny. She felt so small and fragile under his arm. She was only sixteen, confused about Rand, and heartbroken over Harry. Guilt definitely did cover his emotions.
Composing herself, Ginny pushed herself away from Harry. She began to eat in silence. Hesitantly, he removed his arm and ate just as silently as her. The pumpkin juice helped lessen his thirst, but what he really wanted was a nice glass of red wine.
The feast eventually finished and the students stood to leave. Waiting until his friends began to leave, he followed them out of the Great Hall and up towards Gryffindor Tower.
Ginny hung back from Ron and Hermione. The pair were too busy talking to each other to notice Ginny. Gathering his courage, Harry moved up alongside her.
"How are you feeling?" He asked tentatively.
She remained silent, the only sound being their feet touching the stone floor. Even in her silence, Harry could tell that her mind was working. The events of the past two days were no doubt in the process of being digested.
With his head down, he nervously stuck his hands in his pockets. "I had a great time on the train today," he added, breaking the awkwardness.
Her step faltered, though briefly, before she continued walking. He swore that a tight smile had appeared on her lips. Her hand, nervous, pushed a tendril of hair behind her ear. "It was nice," the reply was hesitant. It was like she did not trust her own voice. "Really nice," she added with a bit more conviction.
"Your brother and Hermione tend to dominate conversations," Harry laughed.
"I..." she paused, "a bit." This time she laughed. It was real, nothing forced, it was pure Ginny. The girl he knew.
"Life tends to be a bit unfair." The words came from his mouth before he even thought of what he wanted to say. It was if the comment had been pulled from his soul.
Ginny stopped, the laughter died away, her eyes downcast. The words tore into his being, they were too true. Instinctively, he moved closer. "Ginny," the name was whispered softly. "Ginny." Lifting his hand he touched her cheek, it was damp.
A pair of eyes, stared up at him. Expecting despair, he was taken aback to find a glimmer of hope in their depths. "I..." she tried to speak. Her body turned, facing him directly. The air itself seemed to crackle intensity. Her tongue moistened her lips. His free hand moved into her hair.
A loud thump resounded down the corridor. When they jumped apart, the tension vanished. A loud group of students came around the corner from an adjacent corridor. They walked past Harry and Ginny on their way to Gryffindor Tower.
When they had passed, an awkwardness returned. "After you," Harry gestured for her to lead.
"Umm... thanks," she muttered, walking past.
When they entered the Common room, they found it deserted. They still had not spoken since they were interrupted. Not stopping, Ginny continued towards the sixth year girls dorm.
"Night Ginny," Harry called out to her before she could disappear up the staircase. She paused mid-stride before turning around. She still looked lost, but life began to flood back into her as she stood looking at Harry.
"Sorry about tonight," she apologized.
"Nothing to be sorry about," he replied, taking a step closer to her. The air began to come alive again.
"I… I usually don't cry on people's shoulders," she said softly ensuring that only he could hear. "I am not so emotional usually."
"Ginny," his voice broke as he placed a hand on her arm. "There is nothing to apologize for or to be ashamed about. You cared for someone who disappeared, there is no shame in that." She stared up confusedly at him.
"I do not understand you, Rand," she frowned slightly, not in anger. "We barely know each other, yet…" she paused in consideration. "I feel like I know you… I am…" she bit her bottom lip nervously. "… drawn to you."
"I feel something strange inside me too, when I look at you," Harry replied. The girl before him softened him and he recalled memories of Lan staring at Nynaeve. The man was as hard as stone and cold as ice, yet when he even so much as glanced at his wife, the hardness softened and the ice melted. Ginny was his Nynaeve, she would always melt away his pain. "You fill a void in me. A void that I had almost forgotten was once filled," he whispered softly.
She took a small step closer, his eyes darted down to her moist lips. He could feel himself being drawn to her. Pushing down his desires, he stopped her movements. "I think it best we move slowly, Ginny." Harry closed his eyes as he spoke. The pain of pushing her away was agonizing, but he did not want to hurt her more. He could not start a relationship with her as Rand. Ginny belonged with Harry.
She paused. Her brown eyes were still fixed on his when his eyes opened. Her face was set, determined. "I have waited long enough. I have not felt this way about anybody in years," she paused, her faced turned away, eyes blinking rapidly. "I have not done this in years," she muttered.
Her back straightened and her features morphed into determination. "Sod it!" she cried out. Her face came round again and her arms moved around his neck, pulling him down aggressively.
He tried to fight, but his body could not. Resisting Ginny was near to impossible. Relaxing under her weight, his lips met hers. They were softer and gentler than he remembered. Her emotions flowed through the kiss towards him and he was sure that his flowed back.
Desperately his hand moved up towards her soft, freckled cheek. Almost trembling with desire, his hand ran along her jaw and into her long fiery red hair, while his other arm wrapped around her waist pulling her closer. Her warm bodied pressed against him, allowing him to feel every inch of her. The kiss deepened as two years of solitude and tension was released from them both.
Eventually they stood, holding each other. Ginny's head rested against his chest. Harry's hand gently stroked her back. Being with her was almost indescribable. The hours of the night slipped by until they finally managed to say goodnight. The clock on the wall, if they had bothered looking, would have told them that it was well into the morning hours.
A/N I am sure there are a few heads shaking at the moment. Please take the time to leave a review, tell me what you think. Thanks for reading.