Fight against Fate

Disclaimer: This story is based on JK Rowling, no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Lot's of thanks to my Beta sunsetwings you are the best.

Chapter 20 The Parting of the Ways

Draco was sitting on his bed, curtains drawn. In a week, he would have to go back to the hell he used to call his home, before he came to Hogwarts. Just a week, before it would be back to the sneers, the insults and the pain. When he was younger he never realized how bad it really was. However, after a year away from it all, he had a new perspective.

His young mind was frantically trying to figure out a way to avoid going back to the 'loving' care of his father. He still loved his mother and did not really want to leave her, but she was either clueless of, or blind to, what his father did to him. He knew that now that he had a wand and basic magical knowledge, his father would be eager to take his 'training' to the next step.

Draco had snuck into the restricted section during the course of the year and had looked up Dark Arts and their effects if the necessary precautions were not taken. He was certain that his father did not practice any of the necessary meditations or cleansing rituals. The idea that he would be systematically tainting his soul with every dark spell he performed was not a nice thought.

Draco had always been of the opinion that magic was magic and light and dark did not matter. However, after his research, he now had a new insight. Dark magic was not evil as he had thought initially. It just worked on a different principle. Whereas 'light' magic required Intent, Focus, Relaxation, and Decision, 'dark' magic worked differently. Intent and Decision was still needed, except the Focus was not in the magical flow, but on the emotion powering the spell. Relaxation was also cut out, sure you still needed to be calm, but depending on the emotion that you used to power the spell, it would influence if you are relaxed.

To be able to use Dark magic, you needed to use strong emotions. Unfortunately, most wizards found it easier to use negative emotions, like anger or hate, to power their spells. That was the reason for the misperception that dark magic was evil. Very few wizards managed to power their spell by emotions like joy and love. Most never even tried to attempt it, just because of all the wrong perceptions.

Draco was fascinated by it all. After learning about the existence of dark magic that used positive feelings, he looked for examples. He would never have believed that the patronus charm was, in fact, a Dark Art. Draco also learned that continually 'mixing' your magic with bad emotions, like hate, could and would taint your magic and eventually your soul and mind. This could actually explain why his father had become more violent as the years went by. The sad thing was that it could so easily be prevented.

By simply meditating and centring your magic, you could 'filter' the emotions out of the magic, so it would not build up and cause the negative effect. The objective was to have 'pure' magic. A pure core had stronger magic than a core that was 'contaminated'.

Draco guessed that this was where the whole pureblood supremacy notion started. If his theory was correcte, there were some seriously misguided purebloods out there, including his father. Unfortunately, he knew that he would never have the courage to share this information.

Despite the fact that he thought his life sucked, he would still prefer keeping it. Dying at age twelve, just because he could not keep his mouth shut, was not an option.

In his research, Draco had even come across a few easy purification rituals that could be preformed after extreme use of Dark Arts, for example after a battle or a dark healing ritual. The fact that Dark Arts could be used in healing blew the blond Slytherin's mind.

All this, however, still did not help him with his problem.

He looked at the stupid muggle diary that his father gave him. How was it possible that this little book could do anything? Once again, he paged through the blank pages. After all these months of daily handling the little book, he just could not resist to write in it. Maybe he could wield the power that was supposedly inside the book. He could use it and show his father that he was not as weak or helpless as he thought. He would be more powerful than the man that fathered him. He would make him bow before him and make him pay for all the suffering he had put Draco through.

The moment the first drop of ink met the smooth blank page, Draco felt a relief that he had not felt in months. It was as if a weight was lifted from his shoulders. It felt as if he could breathe for the first time. He would never give this diary away. It was his and he would use it for his own purpose. Now he just needed to figure out how.

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Something gold was glinting just above him. A curse! He tried to dodge it, but his body was too heavy to move. He made ready for the impact, yet nothing happened. He blinked. Immediately, everything came into focus; years of training and experience taught him to become fully aware the moment he opened his eyes, no matter how injured he was. Survival first, injuries and comfort second. He quickly went over his last memories and assessed his surroundings. "Crap, I hate waking up in this place. Memo to self, never play with Dark Lords and never ever willingly touch them." He blinked again, to get used to the light. The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above him. "Bugger, I really don't want to talk to the old fart now. My head hurts and I'm not up for games of wit and truth. Ah well, better just get it over with."

"Good afternoon, Harry," said Dumbledore. Harry stared at him. Then he remembered how he had acted the previous time. Obviously, Dumbles thought he was the brave hero that rushed in to save the day. Better not shatter that illusion. Harry wondered again, what the old man would have though if he had heard his conversation with Riddle. In his most anxious voice he said, "Sir! The Stone! It was Quirrell!"

"Calm yourself, dear boy; you are a little behind the times," said

Dumbledore. "Quirrell does not have the Stone."

"Then who does?" Harry asked in his most panicked voice. He was actually wondering what Dumbles would do about the missing stone. Would Perenell have told him it was gone or that it was a fake, or would the headmaster think it was stolen? "Sir, I …"

"Harry, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out." Dumbledore tried to calm the distraught boy. He was pleased beyond belief. In the end, the boy had come through; all his efforts through the year was starting to bare fruit. He would win the boy for the light yet.

Harry could see the scheming in the old headmasters blue eyes and looked around him at the table piled high with what looked like half the candy shop, to distract him from his momentary bout of anger and resentment.

"Tokens from your friends and admirers," said Dumbledore, beaming. "What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret; so, naturally, the whole school knows. I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat. No doubt, they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it."

Harry just smiled at that comment. He would need to get the twins involved in his little study group. They were valuable assets to have on your side, and great friends to boot. It did not escape him that the headmaster had not answered his question about the stone. He was the master of deflection and distraction.

"How long have I been in here?" he wondered if it was the same as last time; maybe his recovery time would be better this time round.

"Two days. Mr. Weasley, Longbottom and Miss Granger will be most relieved you have come round, they have been extremely worried."

"Score; I have a new recorded, recovery down by one day," Harry thought happily, but regained focus again and forced his mind to concentrate; he hated it when his mind was so fuzzy because of potions.

"But sir, the Stone…"

"I see you are not to be distracted. Very well, the Stone. Professor

Quirrell did not manage to take it. The stone was destroyed when you shattered the mirror."

"Destroyed?" said Harry blankly, but inside he was smiling, the old man would never know about his little burglary. "But your friend … Nicolas Flamel …" Harry asked, while he wondered how he would manage an apprenticeship with a wizard that was supposedly dying.

"Oh, you know about Nicolas?" said Dumbledore, sounding quite delighted.

"You did do the thing properly, didn't you? Well, Nicolas and I have had a little chat, and agreed it's all for the best."

"But that means he and Perenelle will die, won't they?" Harry asked anxiously. If they really were dying he would have been upset that Perenelle would soon be gone. He was congratulating himself on his acting. A year of practice had helped him a lot.

"They have enough Elixir stored for s few years but yes, they will die eventually." Harry would have to give Perenelle credit for spinning that tale of a few years stock. That meant that their plans were still save and the old man none the wiser. Dumbledore smiled at the look of amazement on Harry's face, mistaking its true meaning.

"To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible; but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all… the trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them."

Harry wanted to strangle the old man; he supposedly had just caused the death of two people, one that was his friend, and he was just seeing it as sending them on a new adventure. As good and noble as the old man was, he was just as twisted and misguided.

Harry lay there, lost for words. Dumbledore hummed a little and smiled at the ceiling.

"Sir?" said Harry, getting to the part he had wanted to talk about the whole year. It was time to see if Dumbels would come clean or if things would stay like the previous time. "I've been thinking... sir… even if the Stone's gone, Voldemort's going to try other ways of coming back, isn't he? I mean, he hasn't gone, has he?'

"No, Harry, he has not. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share... not being truly alive, he cannot be truly killed. He left Quirrell to die; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as to his enemies. Nevertheless, Harry, while you may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time… and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power."

Harry was feeling nauseous; this little recruitment speech was sickening. He was eleven and the man was already preparing him to be a soldier and weapon, yet refusing to do it outright or with the proper training. He would never understand the old man. Why all the mind games? Harry nodded, staying in the role of the gullible child, but stopped quickly, because it made his head hurt. Then he said, "Sir, there are some other things I'd like to know, if you can tell me... earlier this year you said there would be a time that I would ask about the truth, and exchange answers; that time is now..."

"The truth…" Dumbledore sighed.

"Yes; I ask again, why would Voldemort want to kill me?"

Dumbledore sighed very deeply this time. "Alas, I still cannot tell you.

You are not old enough to know; you're still not ready."

"Headmaster, this is your last time to come clean; I will not give you this opportunity again. We could be in this as allies and equal partners, or as two separate factions. It is your decision. It does not matter to me what your choice is; however, the first option would be a lot easier and beneficial to us both."

Dumbledore just shook his head sadly, the boy did not know what was at stake. The boy's little secrets could not compare to the magnitude of what he was keeping safe for when the time was right. He wanted to know what the boy was hiding, but it was just not worth sacrificing years of planning.

"Now, enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit flavoured one, and since then I'm afraid I've rather lost my liking for them… but I think I'll be safe with a nice toffee, don't you?"

He smiled and popped the golden-brown bean into his mouth. Then he choked and said, "Alas! Ear wax!"

Harry just shook his head sadly; Albus would never again be his mentor as in his previous live. The line was drawn and there was no going back. He would do this alone, just like he always did. He did not need the old man, but it saddened him nonetheless. The time for waiting was over; he would leave the old man and his order behind.

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"I don't understand why you're in such a mood!"

"You can be such an insensitive bitch sometimes!"

"No need to call me nasty names! Really, comparing me with a canine; you say the weirdest things sometimes."

"I'm leaving; if you can't understand why I'm upset, I'll go find different company."

"Don't tell me you're still upset about what happened to that silly boy."

"You don't get it, do you? You know that bastard that dumped you and abandoned you here fifty years ago."

"Why bring up that subject, you know I don't like to talk about it."

"Yes I know, you never talk about it, you rant, moan and complain about it every second of every day."

Zally gave and insulted hiss but did not comment.

"Anyway," Amberile continued. "that stupid, filthy, ugly, bastard nearly killed my friend Harry!"

"I see no problem with them killing each other, that way they can't come in here making promises and breaking our hearts."

"Ooh, just get over yourself," Amberile hissed in exasperation while sailing away.

"All right, I'll meet with the boy. Don't go now, it's lonely when you're away."

Amberile hissed again, turning back to her oversized, egocentric and sometimes annoying, friend.

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Harry sat brooding for hours after the visit with Dumbledore. He felt strangely empty; true they had not gotten along so far this year, but this was like the final break. All hope that he had held for his old mentor was finally gone. It was like losing him all over again.

"How's my little trouble maker?" came the cheerful voice of Perenelle, breaking Harry from his negative thoughts.

"I have been better; remind me not to kill evil possessed professors anytime soon," Harry said with a smile.

Perenelle was a bit worried at that response. The boy was eleven and had just killed someone in self-defence. Yet he was shrugging it off as if it was a normal daily occurrence. She could sense he was troubled and sad, however she could also sense it was not because of the most obvious reasons. She could strangle Albus for putting the boy through this.

"I'll do that, I know how much you dislike this room," she smiled, better play along and let him feel comfortable, he would soon tell her what was bothering him if she did not push.

"Yeah, can you believe it; I'm here again, and this must be some kind of Hogwarts record. I swear one of these days Madam Pomfry will reserve a bed in here just for my use."

She just laughed at that. "Can you blame her?"

"I think there is something wrong with her. She gets way too much pleasure out of torturing me with her nasty potions. I swear Snape makes them taste so vile on purpose."

"Oh Harry, it can't be that bad?"

Harry just shook his head and smiled. "So what brings you here?"

"You, who else? I don't see any of my other friends in here recovering from injuries."

"I thought you were looking for Dumbledore." Harry said. "But I appreciate the visit."

Immediately, she realized a shift in his mood as he talked about the headmaster. Now she knew the person behind his feelings of sadness; now she only needed to find out what the old goat had done this time.

"Harry, you know I am an empath and that I can feel your emotions; do you mind me asking you some questions."

Harry sighed and gave a little nod. "I don't promise to answer them, but yes, feel free to ask."

Harry knew she was a mind healer and it made sense that she was here to debrief him after what should have been a traumatic experience for an eleven year old. He only wondered why nobody bothered about his mental health in his other life. He could actually have used it then.

"What did Albus do to make you so sad?" she asked.

That question really surprised Harry; he did not expect her to talk about that.

"I see you're as perceptive as ever." Harry gave a weak laugh. Then in a sad serious voice said, "He did not do anything really, I just came to the final realization that he would never be the mentor that I hoped he would be for me."

"I did not realize that you wanted him to be your mentor. I got the idea you did everything in your power to annoy him," she asked, surprised at the seriousness and honesty in that answer. Once again she felt like strangling her old friend. This boy that was closed up to everyone, and seemed so independent and unreachable, desperately wanted the guidance of Albus and the old man tried so hard to give it, that he effectively pushed the boy away.

"No, I actually enjoyed all our little verbal spars, but he will never be the person that I hoped he would be. He is too stubborn and manipulative. Too stuck in his ways. I wanted a mentor not a commander."

Her heart wanted to break, out of all the talks that she had had with Harry throughout the year, it was clear to her that there had never been an adult figure that Harry looked to for guidance; the only two people that even came close were Master Li and Mrs. Deviliers. Until now, she thought Harry would refuse anyone that wanted to fill that kind of role in his life. To think he was looking for it, and everyone was ignoring it, was sad. She resolved to have a good talk with Nicolas before the boy came for the holiday. She would not allow him to also fail this precious boy. He would be more than just another teacher. She was sure that her husband was the mentor that Harry so desperately needed.

"I am sorry that you feel that way. I'll have to give him a good kick in the pants the next time I see him."

Harry just giggled at the thought of this six hundred year old lady kicking the great Albus Dumbledore. What made it even funnier was that she would actually do it.

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"Lower your arm slightly, gives better balance." Master Li instructed as distracted Eleanor. For the past few days since her father had come home, she just could not concentrate on anything. Not even her martial arts with Master Li could make her focus. Occlumancy was a futile idea. Just as she decided to stop for the day, Remus entered the dojo.

"How is he, can I see him?" she asked anxiously. After Remus came out of the room and told her that he did not think it was a good idea for her to meet him just yet, she had asked about seeing him every time she saw Remus. She understood the reasons why she could not see her father, but she could not help feeling resentful. Her whole life she had longed for a true family. Now, her father was under the very same roof as her, and she still couldn't see him. In fact, he did not even know that she existed.

"Oh El, I know you want to meet him, but he is still in a very bad shape."

"But I can help him, I could use my gift."

"You're not trained to use it yet, you could go insane by attempting it. You know this."

"Yes but, I can't do nothing. Just let me see him, please?" she asked desperately.

"Let girl see dad, man need joy and inspiration to recover. Too much sadness, guilt. Need love, need support. Apart, they are both hurting; will heal each other," Master Li said. He had observed them the past few days and came to the conclusion that it would be best. He knew Remus would consider any advice he gave.

Eleanor gave a thankful nod to her Master and then cast a hopeful glance to her sort-of uncle. Remus contemplated it for a long minute, inadvertently torturing the young girl with his silence.

"Very well; I'll tell your dad everything when he wakes up and then you can meet him. But no using your powers and you must wear you blocking amulet…" before he could finish his sentence he found himself with an arm full of happy girl squeezing the life out of him. Considering that he was a werewolf, that was one strong hug.

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Just like every time he landed himself in the hospital, Madam Pomfrey was very strict; she was a nice woman, but totally overbearing.

"Just five minutes," Harry pleaded.

"Absolutely not."

"You let Professor Dumbledore in..."

"Well, of course, that was the headmaster; quite different. You need rest."

"I am resting, look, lying down and everything. Anyway, I have read in a muggle medical journal that happiness, friends and family contribute to a faster recovery. Oh, go on, Madam Pomfrey..."

"Oh, very well," she said, shaking her head, the boy was always a charmer and had medical knowledge that astounded her. "But five minutes only." And she let Neville, Ron and Hermione in.

"Harry!" all three friends said together and then started to laugh.

Hermione flung her arms around him again; Harry's head was killing him, but he did not mind his friends' affection

"Oh, Harry, we were sure you were going to… Dumbledore was so worried… and I felt so guilty because I let you go alone… and…" she babbled still keeping her strangle hold.

"The whole school's talking about it," said Ron. "What really happened?"

Harry told them everything that happened after they parted ways. His friends could not stop apologizing for getting him into this mess. They now knew why he wanted them to stay away and did not want to help them figure it out. Ron made a promise to himself to listen to Harry; after all, he did know the future so he would know best to avoid trouble.

"So what happened to you three?" said Harry.

"Well, I got back all right," said Hermione. "We were dashing through all the obstacles to get up to the owlery to contact Dumbledore when we met him in the hall outside Fluffy's door… he already knew… he just said, 'Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?' and hurtled into the room."

"He did not even give us time to explain it was all our fault," added Ron.

"D'you think he meant you to do it?" ask Neville. "Sending you your father's cloak, leaving all those clues and everything?"

"Well," Hermione exploded, "if he did… I mean to say that's terrible … we could have been killed if you did not come after us."

"Yes it is," said Harry thoughtfully. "He's a funny man, Dumbledore.

I think he sort of wanted to give us a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here; you know about the spying paintings and ghosts. I reckon he had a pretty good idea you were going to try, and instead of stopping you, he hoped you would get me involved. He taught us enough to help and then testing our skills. I do not think it was an accident that he showed me the mirror. It's almost like he thought he had the right to test me against Voldemort..."

"Yeah; Dumbledore's off his rocker, all right," said Ron in disgust at his fallen hero.

"Well, we know we should watch out for him now, so we should be better prepared for next time," said Neville.

"I know what he did was twisted and wrong, but he is not an enemy; just a misguided ally." Harry said, he did not want to alienate his friends from Dumbledore, he just wanted them to be more aware of the true nature of things.

"Misguided or not, we should still watch out for him and his manipulations," huffed Hermione. Nobody harmed her friends and got away with it.

"Listen; you've got to be up for the end-of-year feast tomorrow. The points are all in and we won!!" said Neville, trying to change the subject and distract Hermione from her brooding.

"Even though Ravenclaw steamrollered us at Quidditch without you. The divergence in points were still enough to scrape a house victory." Ron added.

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey bustled over. "You've had nearly fifteen minutes, now OUT," she said firmly.

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The end of the day found a deeply thinking Dumbledore up in his office. Not even Fawks' singing could gain his attention. As so many times in the past year, he had only one person on his mind; Harry Potter.

He was pleased and relieved that the boy stood against evil. Yet he was saddened that the boy still, after all this time, did not trust him. He knew it was because he would not share the secret of the prophecy. However, sharing something like that with a boy so young was not even an option. He needed to play and grow and learn not to worry about war and murder. His deepest desire was for Harry to be happy. He did not know were he went wrong. What he could have done differently. How he could gain the boys' trust. Maybe he should offer the boy an apprenticeship when he returned the next year. He knew the boy craved knowledge and would not be able to resist. Through their work together, as mentor and bonded they could build on their relationship. If it was not for the need to maintain the blood wards, he would make the offer right now. Nonetheless, it would be better to wait. As the events in the recent past proved, the wards were needed.

The only other different thing that was bothering him was the dirty look Perenelle gave him after her visit with Harry. When he first contacted her to help him with figuring Harry out, he never thought it would put a strain on their relationship. They had been friends for many decades now, and he could not understand why she was annoyed with him whenever Harry was involved. She also refused to discuss anything that she and the boy talked about. She gave him little to no information. He was actually amazed at the two's relationship. What could an almost twelve year old boy and a six hundred year old lady possibly have in common? He wished he could understand the boy; but no matter how hard he tried, Harry stayed a mystery.

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Harry made his way down to the end-of-year feast alone that night. He had been held up by Madam Pomfrey's fussing about, insisting on giving him one last check-up. He also needed to run up to his dorm to store the gift that Hagrid had given him; he was once again the proud owner of a beautiful leather-covered photo album, filled with pictures of his parents.

The Great Hall was already full when he arrived. It was decked out in the Gryffindor colours of red and gold to celebrate their victory of the house cup for the first time in six years. A huge banner showing the Gryfindor lion covered the wall behind the High Table. Harry was glad that his house deserved this victory this year and not like the last time where Dumbledore meddled with the points at the last minute to gain favour with him. That was just plain cruel what he did to the Slytherins, no wonder they looked for acceptance from the likes of Voldemort. Everyone else treated them like crap. When Harry walked in there was a sudden hush, and then everybody started talking loudly at once. He slipped into a seat between Ron and Hermione with Neville on the other side of the Gryffindor table and tried to ignore the fact that people were standing up to look at him. Once a celebrity always a celebrity and he could not think of how he would change it in the future. He must have an inbuilt attention magnet.

Dumbledore arrived moments later. The babble died away.

"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully, your minds are all a little fuller than they were... and you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty again before next year starts..."

"Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding. Let's all give a cheer for Gryffindor for taking the cup this year!" A deafening roar went up in the hall as everyone besides the Slytherins cheered.

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An exhausted and extremely agitated spirit was making his way in the direction of Albania. Voldemort did not know what to make of the boy-who-lived. All year he'd observed the golden Gryffindor. To all appearances, he looked like you standard good guy. The hero of the light, the savoir of the wizarding world. Yet, in the forest, he and a few other pathetic first years had managed to banish him, using powerful magic that was unknown to him. Until his latest meeting with Potter, he'd suspected it was a branch of Dark magic that he had not yet explored. He would need to find it and learn to use it if he wanted to regain his place of honour. He had always hoped that he would be able to corrupt the boy hero and lead him on a path to darkness, crushing the hope of the annoying light followers. Now it would seem that instead of having a servant, he had a worthy opponent and possible ally. But first, he would need to gain his body back, and show this young upstart that he was still a force to be reckoned with. He did not know how to feel about this whole situation. He was furious that a boy could defy, disrespect and defeat him, yet he had hope that the side of darkness would finally have the upper hand. He would need to take some time to think what his next move would be and what to do about Potter. Were they allies or enemies…?

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An exhausted Harry snuck back to his bed in the Gryffindor tower. After the leaving the feast, just as he was making his way up the stairs to his room, Amberile sailed up to him and asked him if he could please come and meet with Zally. He was tired, yet excited; after almost a year of repeated efforts, the childish basilisk finally agreed to meet with him. H grabbed his invisibility cloak and donned it before any of his room mates could see, and snuck out.

Thinking back on the meeting was not the greatest of introductions, but if was a hell of a lot better then the previous lives' encounter.

Zally was petty, moany and egocentric; yet she agreed to be friends with Harry and that she would not go about petrifying students. She also promised Harry that she would let him know if someone else came down to her chamber. Over all, Harry was happy about how the meeting went. He just wished he knew how Amberile could stand the huge snake. He was glad he would not need to spend a lot of time in the Chamber of Secrets. Zally would have driven him crazy within the hour. Then again, he could not blame the poor creature. He would also lack social skills if he'd had to spend the last fifty years in isolation.

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The next morning was filled with the usual activity of last minute packing; their wardrobes were emptied, trunks were packed, Neville's toad was found lurking in a corner of the toilets; notes were handed out to all students, warning them not to use magic over the holidays, not that it would matter to Harry ether way. On a split decision, Harry removed the tracking spell on his friends wands, with strict instructions to only practice where no one could see. He did not want their skills to become rusty over the holidays.

They were boarding the Hogwarts Express; talking and laughing as the countryside became greener and tidier; eating Berttie Bott's Every Flavor Beans as they sped past Muggle towns. A pair of excited redheads popped into Harry's compartments. They were professing their undying gratitude for his tips about studying. They did great in their exams, surprising the entire faculty. Snape even accused them of cheating, after they got O's in their potions exam. They had a wicked gleam in their eye as they said that their mom would not even be able to complain about their pranks anymore because it was aiding them so much academically.

Harry debated about removing the tracker from their wands as well. However, he decided against if, if only for Mrs. Weasley's sanity. He suspected they had figured a way around the law on their own anyway, so it would not do to make the twins suspicious of him by sharing such a secret. He would rethink it next year, when the twins were a more intricate part of their group. He planned to expand his circle of friends. The more people he had on his side, and trained up, the better.

He reflected on the year that had passed. In many respects, the year was only there to lay the ground works of his plans. Next year, and the years to follow, the serious hard work would start. A lot of wonderful, interesting and unexpected things had happened, yet so many things stayed unchanged. Some new bridges were built and some old ones destroyed. In a lot of respects, things were better. Harry felt better connected to his friends and even some of his teachers like McGonagall.

He only wished he could find that little butterfly that was flapping its tiny wings somewhere in the universe and causing some of the disasters that was happening around him and that he could not control or perceive yet. It was the little changes that he did not notice, or dismissed as irrelevant, that was bothering him most. Simple mathematics told him that adding up little changes and problems would equal a huge change and a possible disaster. Maybe he was paranoïed; maybe he was unreasonable and worrying about nothing; he just could not help thinking that somewhere a huge change had occurred and he did not know about it yet.

"Come out of it mate; we're almost there," Ron said while waving his hand in front of Harry's eyes. Harry just smiled to his friends and shook his head to clear it.

Soon the compartment was full of activity, pulling off their wizard robes and putting on jackets and coats; pulling into platform nine and three-quarters at King's Cross Station. It took quite a while for them all to get off the platform. A wizened old guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting them go through the gate in twos and threes so they did not attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at once and alarming the Muggles.

"You must come and stay this summer," said Ron eagerly, "all of you …I'll send you an owl."

"Thanks," said Harry, "I'll see if it is possible, but I don't know; I already made other arrangements for the break."

"Don't tell me you plan to train in martial arts the whole summer," Ron complained. Neville just smiled and Hermione looked interested.

"Yes actually; I have been slacking the whole year and I really miss my master. But it won't be the only thing I'll be doing."

"As long as you don't work and study the whole time, it's fine; but you need to relax a bit. It is the holidays and there is no need to be serious all the time."

Harry was surprised to see that even the study addicted Hermione agreed with her red haired friend.

"Fine; I promise to have some fun. Happy?"

Neville just laughed at the interaction while Ron looked satisfied. People jostled the little group as they moved together forward toward the gateway back to the Muggle world.

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So here it is, not such a long wait this time. Let me know what you guys think.

Next update wil be somewhere around December, but first I have to hand in my thesis and write my final exams. So wish me luck only a few more months and I will have my "freedom" back. Lol.

I thinks this story will have about another two or three chapters before I end it. The next story will begin when they are on the train for their second year. Please send me suggestion of a title for the sequel.

Also thanks for all the nice reviews. I'm hoping to hit the 1000 mark soon.

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