Okay! New week! New chapter!

Last week's Question: What was your favorite place you took a guided tour in? Or self-guided tour?

I had two people say Carlsbad Caverns. I love the beauty of some caverns. The place I worked in was called Kickapoo Indian Caverns. The tour only took an hour, half hour inward, half hour outward. There are some points about the cavern that I miss, the beauty of some of the natural wonders, the meeting of different people from all over, and the bats. I miss the bats.

I don't own Harry Potter.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Uncle Vernon's beatings got less and less frequent until they were almost nonexistent and Harry was grateful for it. He thanked his teacher for stopping over that night, he didn't want to appear over gracious or he thought the teacher would be suspicious.

"Not at all, I just wanted to tell your guardians that you had one of the highest tests marks." lied Mr. Doppler with a kind smile. He could see the relief in the boy's face and he was happy to see it. It was worth the smack down his Captain gave him later that night.

Harry liked Mr. Doppler, though at times he did find him a bit strange. He caught this man in the gym after school one day leaping and running all over the place, like he was getting ready to go through an obstacle course.

Harry couldn't help but feel impressed as he watched his...mild-mannered teacher do such strenuous feats, like some of those ninja shows he saw Dudley watching.

After his teacher had left, he tried his hand at a few leaps and bounds, but he kept falling right on his backside and not even getting close to half the distance his teacher had jumped. One time he fell too hard and wrong and dislocated his shoulder.

Harry rushed into gym's locker room, gripped one of the pipes in bathroom and snapped his shoulder back into it's normal state.

"Think I'll practice that one a bit more." said Harry with a groan. Thanks to that old medical book, he's was able to cut his hospital visits down to almost nothing. And thanks to Mr. Doppler, not only did he not feel like Uncle Vernon was a bomb ready to go off, he was finally feeling challenged in the classroom.

Mr. Doppler would give each student a book to read for reading class and then have them do a report on it. While others were doing reports on fairytales or animals, Harry would be doing reports on chemistry, ancient history, or physical science.

His other in class work would have different problems than what the other kids did, they would continue on with the multiplication tables while he'd be dealing with equations and other advanced mathematical problems. Harry was still hitting good marks, making sure to get B's and a few A's.

Harry rotated his shoulder slightly, it twinged slightly and he found his thoughts going back to the first time he ended up in the hospital for a school related incident:

His normal teacher wasn't in the classroom, but some lady in a spotted blue dress with an extra curly brown hair wig over her, very real, gray haired head, was busy writing her name in loopy letters.

Ms. Bobberton.

She placed the chalk firmly back into the small shelf underneath the board sat smartly in her seat.

"Can I help you?" she asked sharply.

"Uh..." said Harry.

"'Uh' is not an acceptable answer." said the substitute teacher with a frown.

"Oh...This is my classroom." said Harry quickly.

"Well then, sit in your assigned seat, and don't try and play any pranks." she said sternly.

"Yes ma'am. No ma'am." said Harry walking towards his desk.

"Well? Which is it? Yes or no, it cannot be both." said Ms. Bobberton.

"It has to be both ma'am." said Harry quietly.

"And how do you figure that, boy?" asked Ms. Bobberton, she was tapping her finger on the top of the desk.

"Well ma'am, I said 'yes' to sitting in my usual seat, and 'no' to mean that I won't prank you." said Harry clearly. "I had to use both in order to answer you ma'am."

The substitute sent a flicker of a glare in the boy's direction. Harry looked down in defeat, reached into his backpack and pulled out a book he had taken from the library.

Today was going to be a long day. thought Harry with a sigh.

Soon after the bell rang and everyone clambered into their seats. Ms. Bobberton walked in front of the class and looked at each student in turn.

"I'm Ms. Bobberton. I'll be your teacher today, don't think that you'll have it easy." said the teacher with a frown.

And she was right, well partly right, all that day they had to listen to her discuss different points of history. Harry could swear that she picked the most boring parts of history to talk about, it was hard for even him to pay attention.

She didn't bother telling them their history homework, but continued onward to reading. Instead of letting them read their books for reading skills practice, she decided to read the script of an old Greek play.

The six year old students couldn't make heads or tails of any part of the play, Harry could make out some bits, like someone dying, but he did better reading it, than listening to someone who speaks in monotone.

Once again she didn't speak of any homework for reading class. Harry was starting to get concerned. Their regular teacher made sure that they would at least have three pieces of homework a day, she was getting to the final few classes and still had not given them any homework for the next day. And with her opening statement, it was contradicting what she was doing. The other students were overjoyed, they weren't told of any assignments at all that day, so they just relaxed and allowed the old woman teach them anything she wanted.

Art had gone by, put they didn't pull out any acrylic paint, clay, or even paper, they sat there as she bored them senseless with talk about the world of modern art and what every piece of art meant, at least to her.

"Ms. Bobberton? Are we going to draw at all today?" asked one of Harry's classmates.

She ignored him and continued on with her interpretation of a giant painting with one large black dot on it.

"Okay, now I'm getting bored." grumbled the boy.

Harry wasn't too sure what he could do, he had a feeling that something during math class was going to cause the entire day to go straight to hell.

Sure enough. "Time to work on our math skills." said Ms. Bobberton as she passed out a single piece of paper and a calculator with way too many buttons. "Finish that before a half an hour has passed. If at least one of you gets some right, I'll forget the essay on what you learned today." The students stared at her as she passed the papers out.

Harry looked down at the paper and saw several questions, not one of them was using the addition and subtraction skills they were working on at the time. He saw symbols he had never seen before on a test for kids.

The other students stared in horror at the test that lay before them. Harry could tell they weren't going to be able to answer one single question. Dudley was a sick sort of green, and so were the rest of his friends.

Harry turned his attention back onto the paper and raised his pencil and took out a piece of scrap paper. He strained his mind to remember some of the old math books that he found in the library. Then he remembered that he wrote some of them in his white notebook, he dug it out and opened it to the respected page. He read the first problem and took ahold of his scrap paper and set to work. Hoping he could scrape by with one right at least.

A half hour came swiftly by and Ms. Bobberton walked swiftly around each student and picked up each paper. She scoffed at each paper she picked up from the six year old students.

"Hmph, another zero percent paper, and covered with doodles." she said with a sneer.

She said the same thing as she continued down the line, finally she reached Harry's desk.

"Alright boy, you're the last." she said with a smirk on her face. Harry handed her the piece of paper. He didn't feel confident about some of the answers, but the others, he felt he had gotten at least close.

She read the paper, and her eyes widened in shock. She didn't say a witty remark, she didn't degrade him in anyway, she just stared. Harry took that to mean, that he must have at least gotten one or two right, and he was greatly relieved. He and his classmates were saved.

"How...how did you answer these?" she asked coldly.

"I read it in a book." said Harry quietly. "Did I get one right?" he added hopefully.

"Y-You had to cheat!" she said loudly. The other students in the classroom turned and looked on curiously.

"No ma'am, I have my work right here." said Harry holding up a piece of paper with different equations written on it, with plenty of eraser marks all over it. Ms. Bobberton wouldn't have it.

"Of course you must have cheated! I could tell the moment you walked in that you were going to be trouble!" she shouted.

Harry watched and listened as calmly as he could to the teacher that was still calling him a cheater and several other things. Twice she had to stop herself before she uttered a profane word, but after listening to Uncle Vernon's foul mouth for six years, he knew every word, and could tell where she was trying to go with it.

Harry could feel his anger crashing overtop his receding calmness, he tried chewing on the inside of his cheek. Finally his anger broke through, for the first time in a long time, he felt genuine fury and rage coursing through his small body. He stared hard up at the teacher with a scowl on his face when suddenly the entire classroom heard a small pop.

They stopped their muttering, looked up and saw the brown wig was now...blue. Several students began to snort and finally broke down into peals of laughter. Ms. Bobberton looked around at the students in confusion. What were they laughing at? It most certainly cannot be her. Perhaps it's something outside.

She turned to look out the window, and in the reflection, saw something blue on her head. She rushed over to her purse, yanked out her mirror and screamed when she saw the state of her hair. She started dancing around frantically and tugged roughly at her wig to take it off, but it wouldn't budge.

Harry stared in disbelief at the woman's now blue colored wig. There was no possible way that could happen, not without help. Harry didn't know what was going on. But watching the woman dance around and shrieking was quite funny to watch.

She turned and glared venomously over to the boy. But Harry couldn't see how he was to blame, she was two desks away from him, and his hands never left the desk. But that look made him a little worried.

The day was over and Harry was just about ready to pack up all his books and leave, but Ms. Bobberton, with a hat on her head came over to him and handed a note to Harry.

"Give this to your parents." she said with foul look on her face.

Harry looked at the note, and felt his stomach fall right into his shoes. A note home. He hadn't gotten one of these before in an actual classroom, gym class oh yeah, lots of times. But in a normal class...never. Dudley received a truck load, every week, but the Dursley's always brushed them off. He didn't think that he would receive the same treatment. This wasn't good, but he knew that the principal would call Uncle Vernon and then he'd catch it worse than if he would just hand Uncle Vernon the note.

Today was not going to end well.

He went back home and tried to make Uncle Vernon's favorite steak and kidney pie for dinner, hoping that it would soften his mood and perhaps not deal with him too harshly. The teacher's wig turning blue wasn't and couldn't be his fault, but that wouldn't stop Uncle Vernon from flipping out and beating his small frail body to a pulp. But hopefully, he could mediate the damage.

Harry placed the miniature pie down on Uncle Vernon's plate and poured him a small glass of wine, all the while his hands were trembling. He had handed Uncle Vernon the note after he had settled into his chair, and was rewarded with a promise that Harry would be dealt with after dinner.

And boy did he ever.

Harry woke up in a screaming ambulance, an oxygen mask over his mouth and a needle thing in his arm. One of the medical personnel looked over at Harry and saw he was awake.

"Easy kid, we're pulling into the hospital now." he said reaching over and checking the heartbeat being displayed on the monitor.

Harry's eyes fluttered shut. He tried to think what had happened. Out of his fevered dreams he remembered getting beaten ferociously, more than ever before. They threw him in his cupboard and didn't open it for several days. When they opened the door to let him out, he was feverish and covered with bloodstains. Harry could barely remember anything else after that.

He felt the thud of the stretcher being placed on the ground and felt the sensation of being wheeled down a smooth surface. In his fog he could hear them talking about something to do with the letters BP and respiratory...he didn't care what they meant, he just wanted the throbbing pain in his head and body to stop.

It was several days until he could summon the strength to wake up. He saw several people staring down at him, Harry could barely make out what they were saying.

"Can you describe the dog, son?" asked one of the men.

Harry looked at him with confusion. A heavy hand fell on his sore shoulders, he took a look up and saw his Uncle Vernon standing over him. The look on his face, told a well trained Harry, to remain silent and go with whatever he said.

"It happened so fast that I don't think either of us can describe it." said Uncle Vernon.

"Judging by what I can see, he might have developed rabies, is he allergic to anything?' asked the doctor swiftly as he moved forward to look in Harry's eyes.

"No, nothing." said Aunt Petunia quickly. She stood in the corner, looking down at the boy with a small amount of worry.

"Then I think to be on the safe side, we'd better start with the rabies treatment." said the Doctor taking a needle off a tray. Harry's head continued to pound and he passed out again.

Back in the boy's locker room, he sat on the bench and stared fixedly on the floor. He's come a long way since then, he felt self-sufficient and fully capable to take care of himself. After that hospital stay, he tried his hardest to hide his achievements in class, but with this latest assessment...he had to let go some knowledge.

But he was getting antsy, he missed Officer McFinn, and Dr. Clark. He needed to vent something, somehow. These acrobatic things were helping, but that was just exercising his body, not his mind. He wanted to do both at the same time.

The next few months passed quickly by, Harry continued on with his school work and even his physical endeavors. Mr. Doppler caught Harry doing back flips during recess.

"What are you doing?" asked Mr. Doppler.

"Uh...well..." said Harry.

Mr. Doppler looked at the boy with scrutiny pouring from his eyes, but then they faded away into pride.

"What are you trying to do? Join the Olympics or become the next Cirque du Soleil star?" he said teasingly. "Come on, I'll help you."

He trained Harry, to run faster, and be as agile as a cat and continued on enhancing his mental prowess. Harry had never felt better, he was getting the venting time he needed but it still wasn't enough.

Soon he found that he would need even more time to vent.

It was getting to be Halloween, Harry had decided against going out trick-or-treating in favor of helping Mrs. McFinn hand out candy and toffee apples. So instead of planning a candy route, Harry was busy at Mrs. McFinn's house, working tirelessly to helping her bake twelve dozen cookies for a local fund raiser for a stray animal shelter.

Harry finished taking the cinnamon cookies in the shape of cats and dogs when a knock came at the door.

"Who could that be?" asked Mrs. McFinn as she wiped her hands on her flower apron.

Harry looked over to the door, but went back to the stove and lifted the golden brown cookies off the cookie sheet and placed them on a cooling rack.

"H-Harry?" said Mrs. McFinn from the kitchen door. "Come here, sweetheart. Someone wants to talk to us."

She wrapped an arm around Harry's small shoulders and took him to the living room, standing in the middle, almost as still as a statue, was a man in full military uniform.

"What can we do for you sir?" said Harry shyly.

The military man looked down at the boy.

So this is the kid, huh? This is the reason we're breaking normal protocol? Thought the man wonderingly.

Mrs. McFinn pulled Harry over to the couch and held onto him.

The man took a deep breath. "I regret to tell you, that Sergeant Dr. Samuel Clark is missing in action."

Harry turned pale as Mrs. McFinn covered her mouth.

"We have more than enough evidence to tell us that he didn't go M.I.A on his own accord, we will find him, but that's all I'm authorized to say." said the man somberly.

Harry's eyes began to well up with tears. No, this can't happen, he was supposed to be home in a two months.

Harry turned and buried his face in Mrs. McFinn's neck and wept bitterly.

Thank you for reading! Please review!

Because of Christmas, I'm not going to put up a Question of the Chapter.

BUT! On Christmas Eve, around midnight, I'm going to post a Christmas Story! A Harry Potter Christmas story! You can either look for it, or follow/favorite me to get the notice that it's up!

Happy Holidays!

Merry Christmas!

Lady Celestial Star