AN: I don't normally like to place an Authors Note at the beginning of a chapter, but I feel that it is necessary here. This chapter contains subject matter that may be ill received. It is certainly not for the squeamish, or those who are easily offended. I have rewritten this chapter almost two dozen times, and I still don't like how its turned out. But I'm not going to obsess over it any longer. There will be no further warnings within the chapter. Read at your own risk.

- Warrior Chapter Nine: Resonance -

Ginevra Molly Weasley let out an annoyed sound at looked up at the pair of figures blocking her light. Her fierce golden brown eyes didn't seem to phase the two men. They were, in almost every way, average. The one on her left had a scar that ran down the side of his face, and his left eye was milky and unseeing. The others only distinguishing feature was his balding top and terrible comb over, the wisps of hair looked like terrible emaciated fingers stretching across his head, giving him a very disturbing air.

"Miss Weasley."
After glancing up at them, she returned to her work, runes wouldn't etch themselves. "Gentlemen, what you two here on such a fine day."
Scarface spoke his voice a growl that her of a long time bar patron's, roughened by hard alcohol. "It's unpleasantly muggy and raining outside."
Comb-over however was the one to actually answer. "We're with the Grey Guard. The Merlin has asked us to inform you that you will be returning to school this year."

Ginny stopped her work and pushed back from the desk to look at the men. "I've already graduated. Ten O's in Albion's NEWT tests. Thanks, but no thanks. Now, if you will excuse me-" Scarface tossed a packet at her, she didn't even react, it just halted in mid air and she set her tools down to take it. Opening the file folder she silently cursed.

"Your brothers, William and Charles are up for repatriation. I understand that the last time this happened they almost didn't meet the cut. Would be a shame if the Grey Guard had to err on the side of caution. After all, while your mother and father are model citizens, the rest of your family aren't so cut and dry are they? Ronald has been brought up 3 times with accusations of smuggling, Fred and Gorge have disappeared off the face of the earth after spouting rhetoric from a known rebel, William has spent five years living abroad, and Charles works and lives in the Eastern Free States. If we're counting potential risks in your family, that's five family members who are deemed at risk and four deemed not at risk."

She stifled a growl, and with an effort of will reinforced her mental spells. "I'm not participating in that fool hardy tournament. It has a near ninety percent mortality rate, and no compensation if you loose."
Comb-over answered that one, "Ah, the Merlin and Her Majesty have told me to assure you that, if you should compete, you or your family will be compensated for the next fifty years with your standard wages. If you should survive, even if you fail, that would mean double your usual wages. That being said, we don't want you to fail," he pulled up a chair, sat down, and handed her another folder. "Miss Weasley. This year's competition is looking very stiff." She opened the folder and started to read. "That man is set to be competing for the USSR. His father competed back in seventy seven, they blew everyone out of the water, and we're near positive that he's the one who turned Lilly Evens traitor."

That made Ginny stop for a second. Lilly Evens had been one of the best and brightest sorceresses of her generation. She had entered Dragon's Throne three years early, and while still in school had developed the current treatment for Lycanthropy, transforming the cursed into full functioning members of society. Then she had turned traitor, gotten who knows how many people killed, and taken her research to the USSR. Her name was simultaneously praised and cursed in Albion. And from what she was reading, her son was absolutely no push over. Enough raw magical power to choke a dragon, his mental charts were top notch, but his physical prowess was off the scales. And if the predictions in the file were correct, he would be competing along side his sister, who dwarfed the boy in raw magical power. And that was why they wanted her to compete, her scores were the only ones that even came close to matching his. If it came down to a fight, she might be the only sorceress in Albion that might even stand a chance against him.

"I want double my normal wages as the package for participation, none negotiable."

- Warrior: En Garde -

Harry James Potter stared across the table at his mother, and she in turn stared back with her single piercing eye, though he could feel the hot intensity from behind her eye patch on him as well. His father continued to eat his breakfast calmly, his demeanor never shifting, as he steadfastly refused to get involved.

Harry broke the silence, "So I have no say in this?"

Lilly's response sharp, "No. You do not. You have obligations to your House, your school, and your country. You will be participating." Harry's hands clenched, and the wood of the table creaked under his grip. His mother looked on unimpressed, and continued to speak. "Harry James Potter. You are an heir of an ancient and noble house. You are one of the top five students at your school. And when you graduate, you will be entering the military as a middle level magical commander. You will do this." As she finished, her voice at a crescendo, she pushed back from the table and strode away.

Lilly Potter strode down the hall, her footsteps sharp and resounding in the quiet. It only took the woman a mere five minutes to reach her personal office. She waved a hand, disarming the enchantments, unlocked the door with a physical key, and then waved a card over the concealed reader. The final locks disengaged with a barely audible thunk, and then she pushed her way past the door. As it shut, accompanied by another thunk, she rearmed the enchantments and collapsed into her comfortable chair. It was smooth leather, a hand crafted piece made by her brother-in-law Vernon Dersley as a personal gift after she had managed to get his family out of Albion. In fact most of the furniture in the house was made by Vernon. He was an excellent craftsman, and often joked that if he hadn't pursued his chosen carrier that he would likely have turned into a very bitter man. Lilly snorted at the thought of Vernon being any sort of office man, he just didn't have the disposition.

The ring of the old rotary telephone on her desk pulled Lilly out of her thoughts. She sighed and retrieved it. "Operations Director Potter." She said clearly.

A high pitched and nasally voice responded, "Director Potter, you have a incoming communication from region twelve, district five." Lilly sighed in annoyance, and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Did the caller identify themselves?"

"Yes Sir, Division Five Operations Chief David Sarif."
"Make sure the line is secure, then patch him through."
"Yes Sir."

The line clicked, and a light excited voice filled the line. "Lilly?!"

"Yes David?"

"I've solved the problem."

She sat up in her chair immediately. "What?"

His voice was almost giddy with excitement. "I said, I've solved the problem! It was the resonance chambers, the control system wasn't sensitive enough to pick up the minute differences in resonance between the separate chambers and their positions. We went in and installed separate control systems and linked them to the primary one. Now, it isn't up and running yet, and I need to run several tests to be sure, but by November, we should be ready to run the first full sequence."

Lilly sat in shock. Project Prometheus had been her baby, but it had been stalled for months, and she was running out of the clout that her name gave her. The Potter family had been very wealthy when they immigrated. And now, almost three centuries later, while their individual wealth as a family had been subsumed in what had become the USSR, their influence had not diminished. The destruction of rich aristocracy hadn't even phased House Potter, who handed over their wealth out of hand to help rebuild after the devastation of the War of Division, and the ensuing civil wars. Now they stood as model citizens, and part of the upper tier of society. And she had cashed in most of the families political capital to keep Prometheus afloat. It was why Harry had to compete. That action alone would buy her the time she needed. If they could finish the project, and it worked, every problem would be solved.

Shouting carried through the wall of her study, and her left eye twitched. Cursing, Lilly managed to open the door to her study just in time to see her husband fly past, the sound of wood and ceramic breaking made her cringe, and a quick glance confirmed that an antique Ming Dynasty Vase was now little more then broken shards. Turning, she was unsurprised at what she saw. While Harry looked like his father, Emily looked like a mirror of her mother, but just like her brother the eyes were wrong. Harry had pinned his sister Emily to the floor, her arms arched up enough that if he pressed any further they would likely be dislocated at the shoulder. His knee was planted firmly in the middle of her back, and his left hand gripped the back of her head, pinning it to the floor.

Magic radiated off of the girl in waves, and as each one flowed over her surroundings it tore into the wood. Gouges, dug as thou by invisible claws, appeared in everything. Everything that is, but Harry. While his clothing was already likely beyond repair, his skin was unmarred. Then, Emily let loose a feral scream, and a wave of energy tore down the hall. Lilly stepped in its path and brushed it aside, shattering the feeble construct with a precise application of will. Harry jerked his sister's head up and then slammed it down into the floor with a sickening crunch. Instantly the power was gone, and Lilly glanced back at her husband. James had already righted himself, and he looked more amused then anything else.

"What did you tell her?"

"Just that Harry would be participating in the tournament. She objected, I tried to put my foot down, but she objected with force."

"Harry?" Lilly's tone was questioning, clearly wanting confirmation.

Harry's tone was direct, and held little if any emotion, "James informed Emily of my participation in the tournament. Emily tried to strenuously object, James said that the matter was closed. Then Emily demanded to travel with the delegation, and James again objected. Emily became enraged, James made a comment that would be considered rude in most parts of the world, and Emily retaliated."

That piqued Lilly's interest, and an eyebrow. "And what, pray tell, did your father say?"

"James's comment-" She cut him off.

"Word for word."

Harry hesitated for a moment, but under her piercing gaze he relented. "James said, 'Can't stand to be separated from your brother for a few months? I never thought you would miss your bed warmer.' Emily's response was... less then coherent."

Lilly sighed, and pinched the bridge of her nose, then rounded on James. "What haven't you been telling me? I don't have time to be here to monitor our children, that was your responsibility."

James's hands shot up, palms out, trying to calm his angry wife. "Um... that is to say... you know I love you Lills..."

Lilly narrowed her eyes, and her tone was piercing and carried power behind it, "She ordered you not to talk, didn't she."

His tone was strained, as though someone was pushing a knife into his back and forcing him to talk, "I can neither confirm, nor deny, such accusations that may or may not be aimed at my daughter."

Lilly let loose a primal growl. If there was one thing that she hated, it was how her husband and son reacted to the extremely powerful. Emily and Lilly were dead even when it came to magical power, which meant that who James and Harry listened to was dependent on largely on who's willpower was stronger. And Lilly had to admit, her work had put a strain on her. Which meant that now both of them would listen to Emily, except that Harry had knocked his sister out cold. "Harry, why did you restrain your sister?"

His voice was, likewise, strained. "This morning, you said that it was important that there be no disruptions. If Emily had injured James, then that would have called attention and caused a major disruption to our schedules. As you said no disruptions, and Emily said that we couldn't let attention be drawn to us, I had no choice but to restrain and then render her unconscious."

"Harry, look me in the eyes." He did. "Don't answer if you can't. What has your sister been ordering your father to do?"

"Emily has ordered James to ignore anything outside of his work and personal life, namely, he was ordered to ignore anything that might be seen as inappropriate in our home."

Lilly could see dozens emotions playing across her son's face. Anger, sorrow, happiness, but it was the subtle rise in his body temperature and quickening of his pulse that gave it all away. Lilly gathered raw power into her left arm and slammed it into the wall, the wood splintering to reveal the tempered steal beneath. "Damn it. I should have been paying more attention." She looked into her son's eyes again. "You can't help it now, can you?"

His eyes were filled with a bizarre mixture of pride and shame. "No. Not unless someone can take me from her. She's been inside my head and laid her claim too much."

"And if I send you away to the tournament right now? Prevent any kind of contact?"

"I... I..." he stumbled over his words, "I don't think it would work. When I was out on my survival exam, I could hear her. She was calling out to me. I couldn't help it and called back. She found me."

Lilly collapsed against the wall, and slid down until she was seated. 'What am I going to do now?' She thought.

- Warrior: En Garde -

Ginevra Molly Weasley examined the body laid out before her. It looked like the man that they were after, but without even examining it wither her power, she knew it wasn't him. "It's not him." One of the men snorted, and another fixed her with a glare.

"And how can you tell? It is him! We took him down."

"Nope. It's another simulacrum." She reached up and brushed back his bangs. "See, the scar's on the wrong side." A round of curses was their reply.

"There's no way! How can someone split up their power this much and still have enough to take on almost two dozen Battle Magi?"

"Harry James Potter isn't someone to be underestimated." Ginny turned to look at the wizened form of Albus Dumbledore, the current leader of the world's magical men and women. Dumbledore had sat at the head of the Adamantine Council for half a century. He had seen the rise of three of the most evil Magi in history. Voldemort, Grindelwald, Carnafax, and now a fourth, Harry Potter. Though Potter, like all of his ilk, proffered a self styled moniker Amarok. Ginny knew why, but she couldn't tell any of them, bound by magic and her word to not reveal his secrete.

"Ginevra, you are excused. Please take a few days to rest and recuperate," the wizened man turned to regard the hunting party, "The same to the rest of you as well. Mister Potter will likely be inactive for a few days yet, thanks to your actions. We can start fresh on Friday."

Ginny quickly vacated the chamber. She hurried to her quarters, and grabbing her travel pack, made her way towards the nearest exit. The Mysterium, the headquarters for the Adamantine Council, resided below Athlone Ireland. The complex was massive, and could easily housing the every member of the Council, though few actually made their homes here. Only the most important Magi lived here, or those who the council deemed as needing to be watched.

Ginny was one of the Former. Officially, she was a analyst, she analyzed reports and artifacts. Unofficially, she was a member of the Guardians of the Veil. It was her job to make sure that the magical world wasn't exposed, and she was one of the best. However, her reputation had taken a major hit in recent years. Ginny had had and on again off again working relationship, that many suspected was more that what it was, with a Magi named Harry Potter. Harry had come out of nowhere, he refused to be a member of the Council, but at the same time didn't act against them either. He was a freelancer, moving from city to city solving problems.

But two years ago, that had all changed. The Guardians had discovered a cult of necromancers eastern block. When they arrived to exterminate the threat, they found them already dead. One after another, groups of rogue magi turned up dead, their artifacts and knowledge plundered. After almost six months, they had caught up to Amarok, who had been leaving behind messages in an attempt to discourage their pursuit. She was the only Guardian to walk out alive. After all, Harry couldn't kill her anymore then she could kill him. It had immediately cast suspicion on her, but she had done her duty. Told them everything, and that had set the Battle Magi on him.

Once she was outside in the cool night air, Ginevra Weasley gathered her will and plunged through the thin barrier into the Shadow. There were dozens of names for the place she was now. The Shadow, Otherworld, Farie, The Hedge, The Maze... so many names. It was a reflection of the world, it was the other side of the looking glass. Once you were inside it, material melted away, and spirit was all that remained. Every magi with even a bit of training could cross into and out of the Shadow, but only with enough power and a strong enough connection could you travel though it like she could. So, Ginny Walked The Pattern. It was an exercise, focus the mind and draw up your power and will, then release it. One minute she was in the Shadow of Athlone, the next she was deep in the forests of Canada. Quickly she crossed back into the normal world, and collapsed on a nearby fallen tree. Walking the pattern was taxing, and it wasn't without risk. But the more you did it, the better you got, and Ginny was one of the best. Maybe twenty magi could try to track her movement's, and none of them would be following her tonight.

She felt the growl long before she physically heard it. It was a deep sub vocal thing, but she ignored it until she felt hot breath roll over her shoulder. She couldn't keep the amusement out of her voice, "My my my. It seems I've been snuck up on by a big bad monster, whatever shall I do?" All the while she snaked a hand up the side of his neck then leaned into him and ran her fingers along his head. "We can't keep doing this." His growl rumbled through her back. "Don't even try to take that tone with me!" she snapped back, "I haven't told them anything, but your forcing me to make a choice here. I can't keep living a double life. I can't pretend that what you're doing is just misguided anymore. You've killed people..." Magic rippled through air, and his arms wrapped around her.

"I'm not doing this because I want to."

Ginny spun and slapped him, putting as much force into her had as she could. "Bullshit! If you didn't want to do it, you would have stop a long time ago!"

His face didn't snow any emotion, but his eyes were filled with sorrow. "Something's wrong with the world Snow. I'm trying to fix it."

She felt her power surge out of control, and she quickly tried to reign it in. But before she could, his own rose up as well, and she lost control. Her form shimmered, and she sailed through the air trying to pin him to the ground. Ginny was roughly slammed down onto the ground instead. Harry was easily twice her size after all. Both were Shifters, the slang term for those who pursued personal transformation magic of the animal verity, but while Ginny was a somewhat large gray wolf, Harry was a dire wolf. Harry had been the only Magi in over a century to be able to transform into a magical creature. Transformed, he was better then her in every way that mattered, except for one.

There were many reasons that few pursued become a Shifter. The process was difficult, and once you started, you either finished, died, were permanently transformed, or had to lop off a portion of your power. Not only that, you had no control over what you were. You might as easily be a fish as a hawk, and it could be a sever blow to someone's self image to realize that they weren't a revered lion but instead were a mole rat. Not only that, but when your animal form was a pure expression of your spirit. Centuries of study into the human sole had revealed souls acted as an anchor for the human spirit. Souls were genderless, passing in and out of the world, and carrying spirits with them. Souls carried spirits into the world, and attached to the first new formed life they came across. Spirits, unlike souls, did have gender. Yet another thing that might shatter someone's self image. And that is where we come to the crux of the issue. Both had completed their training before meeting each other. It left a mark that other Shifters could recognize. And their first meeting, trapped in a cave in the middle of a blizzard had been incredibly awkward at first. But now it was a shared memory of better days. Ginny batted aside the paw that held him down, and Harry didn't resist, just standing there with ears and tail drooping, looking very nervous.

"You're a liar!" Harry flinched back at the words, and tried to seem smaller, which only drove Ginny forward. "Don't lie to me!"

"I'm not. I wouldn't." Ginny lunged forward and Harry scrambled back, but only managed to trip and sprawl to the forest floor. Ginny planted his paw on her chest, pinning her this time.

"But you have, time and again! Give me one reason why I should rip your throat out and put you down like a rabid dog?!"

Harry averted her eyes, "If that's what you want, command me, and I will obey."

Ginny snarled, and turned away. Thoughts raced through Ginny's mind, 'Every time! Every time I come out here it's the same thing! We fight, I win, same simple command, and I can never give it. I want to just end this, but I can't!'

Ginny's thought were interrupted by whimpering and a nuzzle from Harry. "Stop brooding."

"It's your fault! If you hadn't gone down that path,"

"Then I wouldn't have realized what was wrong, or how to fix it."

"Harry, there's nothing wrong with the world! "

"Snow, there's so many things wrong with the world."

"Stop with the pet name, and so what that the world isn't perfect."

"It's not that the world isn't perfect, there's something seriously wrong with it. It's a fundamental problem... it's not something that words can properly describe. It's about layers of reality that don't add up. There are things happening here with no starting event, effect without cause. It's unbalanced!"

Ginny turned and fixed her with a piercing gaze. "Name one example."

"The storm that trapped us in the cave."

Ginny snarled, "Don't you dare bring that up!"

"You asked! That storm simply materialized over a two hour stretch. No spirit caused it. No sorcerer. No fey lords or complex rituals. And it froze everything, not just the physical world."

"So, what? Maybe the cause was to big, or that much higher then you, you ever consider that!"

"Snow... I spent over a year looking. I talked to beings that could see what I can't. I have to fix this!"

"So you just throw what we have away?!"

Harry snarled back, "Never! I'm doing this for us! Can't you see that Snow?"

- Warrior: En Garde -

Ginny Weasley sat next to her friend Hermione Granger as both listened in rapt fascination to the lecturer. Hermione had convinced Ginny to attend the conference in Geneva only through blackmail. Ginny hadn't wanted her family to know about her secrets, so the situation was unavoidable. 'Besides,' Ginny had thought, 'both of us needed the time away and some company.' The conference had started out just like Ginny had imagined. Discussions on mostly boring advancements or lectures about the shift of magical animal populations. By the time they attended the last conference on the fifth of the seven days of the conference, she had been ready to ditch Hermione, damn the consequences. Then the lecturer had been wheeled in. He didn't look that much older then either of them, his hair was short cropped and black, but the crown of his head was decorated with scars.

Upon closer inspection she realized that they were stylized markings, some form of ritual scarring most likely. He was white skinned, but that didn't rule out a life in parts of the world where he would have undergone such a process to 'fit in' with his peers. But the fact that he was wheelchair bound, was different. From what she could tell, it looked like he was missing both legs and an arm. When he looked out at the crowd however, her heart skipped a beat. His eyes were a emerald green and as they scanned the crowd, sparkling with a vast intellect, they stopped on her. She felt his gaze linger for several heartbeats before he moved on, and her heart resumed beating though at an accelerated tempo.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen. My name is Harry Peverell and I'll be your host and lecturer this evening. Originally this lecture was supposed to be hosted by my master, the famed Nicolas Flamel and it was to be a reiteration of previous lectures given. However, due to unforeseen circumstances Master Flamel could not be with us tonight. So, instead, you all will have to be subjected to my own work. I had hoped to quietly pass my work off to someone else and avoid the spectacle related to it, but it seems that fate has other plans." He paused, raising his arm and flicked his wand at the wall behind him and writing sprang forth. Complex formule and instructions along with a wide list of indigence.

"I cannot thank Master Flamel enough for his help in my work, as well as the work of Potion Master Damocles and countless others. As a result of this, I am proud to announce today, a permanent treatment for those around the world afflicted with lycanthropy." Despite speaking quietly, his voice carried across the auditorium, silence following in its wake. For several minutes everyone, even the organizers and security stared in stunned silence at the man, who lowered his head to as a soft sad smile spread across his features. And then, just as suddenly, nearly every person in the room exploded into motion. Reporters began to shout questions, some of the more vocal members of the old guard began shouting insults, but Ginny sat frozen in place.

Hermione's voice was quiet, but broke her revery all the same. "Ginny..."
Ginny Weasley turned and looked at her friend, her eyes were watery, threatening to spill their contents at any moment. "A real life. You realize what this means?" As Hermione wrapped her arm around her, Ginny turned to look up at the man who was now surrounded by security. He was looking right at her, and suddenly she remembered him. Turn back the clock almost fifteen years, give him back his arm and legs, longer hair, no scars, and remove most of the healthy weight. Ginny chuckled as she was reminded of just how smart she actually was. Few could do all of what she had just done in her head. But sitting there not thirty yards away was Harry. Her Harry.

They had met shortly after the British Ministry passed several draconian measures aimed at, as they had said, 'protecting the public' from those who were infected. Registration, strict monitoring, and even the requirement to be taken into ministry custody for the day prior, of, and after the full moon. Ginny had been attacked incredibly young, during the final dark days of Voldemort's reign of terror. When the ministry passed its laws, her parents had little choice but to comply. She had been a month shy of seven at the time.

There had been little bright side to the entire ordeal. In fact, it had been down right humiliating. When you registered you were given a reusable portkey that took you to your assigned facility. Everyone arrived throughout the first day. Men, women, children. Each and every person was examined upon arrival, a complete physical and mental examination, tough luckily the mental exam was only preformed once a year. Then everyone was locked in a room, forced to spend the rest of their time before mid afternoon the following day alone. The next day she had been rounded up with almost three dozen other children, all of whom had been locked together in a room, but not before those assigned to keep an eye on them had vanished their clothing. Twenty nine children, ranging from ages five to twelve all locked in a room together naked.

It had been humiliating. Several of the older kids had tried their hand at bullying the younger ones, until an older boy, Adam, had summarily shown that he wasn't going to stand for it. Two broken noses later the bullies had been exiled to a corner of the room. Harry had been cowering in one of the other corners. He had been scared out of his wits, and later Ginny learned that he had been infected less then a year. She had gotten over her embarrassment rather quickly that night, along with most of the rest. Though it didn't make the situation any more pleasant. Harry and Ginny had spent three years sharing that corner. Then one month, didn't show up. She had been worried, but wrote it off as him being sick or something of the like. But when the next month rolled around, she had very nearly had a panic attack. She had asked her father to look into the matter. What he had found was that Harry, who had no last name on the list, had been adopted and had moved beyond the borders of Brittan.

And then a realization hit her. He had done this for her. She had been his first friend, the children at the orphanage where he lived had been decidedly cruel, isolating him and bullying anyone who tried associating with him. Ginny reached out a hand, palm flat and pushed towards him. He responded in kind. And for the fist time, in a very long time, Ginny Weasley felt whole.

- Warrior: En Garde -

Harry James Potter reclined in a bed in his basement room in the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. His ancestral home had been transformed, and even now was being used in such a way that it made his blood boil. What right did Dumbledore have to claim it? What right did these strangers have to come and go as they pleased? But something else worried him even more. The fight at the ministry had turned into a three way battle royal, a proverbial clash of titans that had spilled out into muggle London. But that wasn't the worrying part. What had worried him, was when he and Voldemort had actually clashed. The Winter Lady had been an absolute power house in her own right, but every time he and Voldemort's powers clashed, it felt like a significant portion of the power involved had slipped away. Maybe it was because he was more sensitive. No... now that he looked back on it, things had been happening that he couldn't explain.

His feelings for Ginny. His reactions to people, places, and situations. Harry knew he was more sensitive then others, more prone to taking in subtle external cues, due to both his nature and upbringing. But the real question was... what did it all mean? Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the feeling that had been summoned up when his and Voldemort's power had clashed. Unfamiliar images flashed across his brain. War exercises in Siberia, being locked naked in a room full of children as his body transformed, fighting to escape a nest of vampires. He quickly pushed the images aside and drew on his power to break the trance. He bolted from his bed and stumbled to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. The eyes that stared back at him in the mirror were not his own. And for the first time that he could ever remember, Harry James Potter shivered in fear.

AN:
There are several clues throughout this chapter as to the greater plot at work. I have had discussions with several people who found my work enjoyable, and some of them may have greater insight simply due to their asked questions. I'm hoping to have the next chapter up sometime later today or tomorrow. I would however, like to extend an apology for making everyone wait so long. As I said, I've been agonizing over this chapter for almost a month. I have over a dozen drafts, some much longer, some significantly shorter. Eventually I simply had to knuckle down and accept what I had written. I took inspiration from everything that I wrote and spun it all together into this.