A/N: I wished I owned Harry Potter. Alas, I do not. Ms. Rowling, I'd be happy to take it off your hands

A/N: The time they spend in Cusco is modeled after my own trip. Peru is amazing, and Machu Pichu was breathtaking, even if my characters aren't going there.

Also, you will notice that I now reference the Mibu Wolf, and start to explore that title. Nambung is not named the Mibu Wolf. It is a position he holds, but the position has certain demands. In real life, the Wolves of Mibu refer to the Shinsengumi, perhaps the strongest independent sword wielding force ever. But my Mibu Wolf draws heavily from the Saito Hajime created in the manga Rurouni Kenshin, which I use in Ready Player Harry as well. There is similarity, so I just want to add I do not own Saito Hajime or any characters from Rurouni Kenshin in this series either.

Chapter 53: Reminiscing

April, 1995

Remus smelt Harry's excitement as he crept through the woods. Magic pulsed all around him, the consequence of fighting in the forbidden forest. Still, the carefully tuned werewolf senses gave him a tiny warning, combining magic sensitivity and the tiny sound of a leaf breaking behind him. Remus rolled to his left, two stunners flying through the space he had just been in.

Remus's wand flashed out, but Harry had already vanished back into the forest, Remus' bone breakers finding only air. The older man's wand was a blur of movement as a variety of spells crashed against a transparent half crescent around him. Remus heard a sigh of frustration and fired his own stunners after the sound of the sigh.

Two curved hexes swung around the crescent shield, but Remus had already aimed his wand upwards and with a simple binding spell, ropes sprang from his wand and yanked him upwards towards the balcony of branches. He landed nimbly on the branch and saw a flicker of movement a few trees away. This time it was Remus's turn to launch two swerving spells, but they impacted trees.

Remus pushed some magic into his legs and bounded towards the movement, jumping from branch to branch, using his magic enhanced legs to keep his balance on the precarious branches. On one jump a spell arced towards him, but Remus flicked it away. He would have fallen at the end of the jump, but he solidified his magic and used it as spikes to hold onto the branch.

Locked in place by the spikes, a barrage of spells flew at him. Again Remus summoned the transparent spell, this time in a half sphere in front of him, the spells once again dissolving upon impact. Remus dispelled the spikes but had no area to target as the spells had come from a wide area.

He picked up Harry's scent right below him and sprung from the branches firing some borderline hexes but saw Harry flick all of them away and respond with some blasting charms of his own. Remus flew past them, rolled as he landed, and he and Harry exchanged spells and shields at high speed for a few seconds before Harry clipped Remus with a cutting hex. Remus tried to create distance but Harry was relentless, attacking with a combination of binding spells and blasting charms.

Finally Harry slipped a full-body bind in after two powerful blasting spells and Remus fell to the ground, body locked in place, his face contorted in frustration. Harry's eyes blazed with satisfaction, but as he turned a spell impacted his side and Harry was knocked into a nearby tree. Harry had forced his magic into an invisible aura around him, so the spell did not complete its goal of breaking bone even if his breathing came hard.

"Dead," a female voice called out. Harry turned and held back a string of curses as Yui Ito, the current bane of his existence appeared from within the trees. "If I put any power into that spell, you'd be dead."

"You said you wouldn't be here today!" Harry exclaimed angrily. "So I was just focused on Remus. He is tough enough as is."

"Please," Yui replied with a careless wave of her hand. Harry felt a pulse of magic and threw up his wand to knock away her stunner. "Someone of your skill should be able to easily handle Remus and still keep up enough awareness to sense me."

"We are talking, and you still throw spells at me?" Harry was fuming as he stared at Yui. "How would you like it?"

"I'm right here," Remus complained.

"You can try," Yui said in her usual dismissive tone that drove Harry up the walls, ignoring Remus' comment. "I doubt you will be able to land anything on me." The next wave of her wand unlocked Remus and Harry saw the werewolf was less than pleased with Akira's fiancé as well. "Still, you should be more aware."

"Sure," Harry said, looking down at his watch. "Remus, it's almost 8. I'm going to shower." Remus nodded as Harry trotted out of the forest.

"Really?" Remus's tone was deceptively mild. "Easy to handle, am I?"

"Oh, don't pout," Yui said with a smile that could best described as a sneer. "Your werewolf qualities help you, and you are a decent spellcaster. But do you expect to truly trouble Harry, even with a ban on magical hand-to-hand combat?" Remus reluctantly had to admit she was right. "You can tell, right?"

"Yeah," Remus agreed. "Harry has hit a wall. Do you have any idea why?"

"No, which is worrying," Yui told the older man. "He shouldn't have hit a wall so soon. Something is weird about his power. He's too far along for someone who has been training for less than a year, but now he is stalling."

"Harry's always been strong for his age," Remus countered.

"It has nothing to do with his overall power," Yui explained. "His spell repertoire tells me he keeps it simple, but his ability to move his magic and physical power around accordingly is already better than me. His sensory magic is already master class, even if he needs to learn how to focus appropriately."

"Master class?" Remus asked. "I thought that was a very high bar."

"It is," Yui acknowledged, "but individual skills can be at master level. There are different levels of mastery as well. It's all very convoluted, but Harry needs to improve to be a master. For the moment, he needs to solve his block."

As he showered, Harry subconsciously agreed with what Yui and Remus were discussing. He had felt it during all his training over the past few weeks. He was gaining vital battle experience, but he wasn't getting any better. It was frustrating, but when he had returned to Hogwarts, Nambung had warned him he would soon hit a wall, especially if he could not connect with and develop his specialty magic.

Harry's frustration started to affect his mood and his overall spellcasting. He had charms and herbology, and after both classes Flitwick and Sprout held him back to say his work that class had been unacceptable given his improvement during the year. To Harry's surprise, Sprout was a little more accepting, while the Charms master would accept no excuse and stated under no uncertain terms that he would expect better the next class.

By the time it was dinner, frustration was figuratively rolling off Harry. Dean and Neville, who had planned a guy's night to counter the girl's night from Hufflepuff and Gryffindor girls, were sitting by Harry at dinner felt a little sick. He barely responded to their inquiries as he shoved his food around his plate, stuck in his own mind.

"Harry, what's going on?" Neville tried in vain, once again, to knock Harry out of his funk. "Are you ok?"

"What?" Harry looked up, his eyes and posturing clearly indicating he was not all there. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You have been off all day," Dean pointed out. "You've never failed to cast multiple times, and Flitwick was ticked off at you. You have to talk it out."

"No, I'm sorry," Harry apologized. "I've just hit a wall with my training. I knew it was coming, but it's just annoying. I guess I've let it affect more than just my training."

"Oh."

"I have a crazy idea," Dean said, allowing a pregnant pause to build.

"Would you like to share with the class?" Harry finally cut in.

"Why not take some time off from working so hard?"

"Excuse me?"

"Look, this is just conjecture, but I think you are probably hitting a wall, especially around specialty magic because your instinctual side is tired," Dean asserted.

"I think you skipped a few steps," Neville commented. Harry nodded in agreement.

"Well, I'm no psychology expert, but the way I understand it, your mind has two aspects. The rational part, and the instinctual side. Your rational mind has taken over, which is why you are training so hard, especially after a near-death experience. But your instinctual mind is what helps you make big leaps, and you are exhausting it now by not doing anything fun. At least that's how it seems to me."

"What about the night we cooked?" Neville responded. "Honestly where did you even learn?"

"Going up with the Dursley's it was kind of necessary. But I at least enjoyed cooking." Dean and Neville shared a glance. They had seen the litany of scars on Harry's body increase every year, and for the first time understood what his life in the summers before 1994 were really like. That was not something that needed discussing when trying to get Harry out of his funk

"Cooking is the right kind of the idea, but that was still work," Dean countered. "Besides, that was close to a month ago, and no offense, but Harry is not known for his restraint when training."

"True," Neville added with a grin.

"You two…" Harry started to reply, but slowed himself. "Actually, you know what. that's actually not the craziest idea."

"I know," Dean told Harry. "So do your classes and such tomorrow, and then this weekend just go some stupid stuff. No homework or training. Just fun stuff that you want to do, not that you have to do."

"I guess I have been pretty focused recently," Harry admitted. "What if what I want to do is train?"

"No," Neville stated. "That would defeat the purpose. We can reschedule guy night for tomorrow night. And I have some ideas for the weekend."

"Like what?"

"No need for snark," Dean replied with a calm Harry envied. "I bet I have the same idea that Neville has." The two looked at each other with a smile. "You can flash anywhere you have visited, right?"

"Just about," Harry cautiously affirmed. It was a little more complicated than that, and Harry had explained the bare bones of his new lightning powers to most of his friends, but he had sworn an oath to keep the specifics of his powers to himself, not that he planned on sharing his master's trade secrets.

"Well, we both know this awesome girl who is crazy about you, and Hogsmeade isn't really cool the second time around," Dean started.

"So why don't you guys flash somewhere cool and go on some adventures?" Neville finished.

"It's not like that," Harry sputtered. But he was lying, and he knew it. Apparently, so did Neville and Dean.

"Will the minister for the great country of denial yield to a question?" Dean countered. Harry sat stone faced. "She tracked you down and helped put you back together after Professor McGonagall thought you were gone forever. She's nuts about you, and you clearly like her. Why are you fighting this so hard?"

Harry really didn't have an answer, and Dean's entirely rhetorical question bounced around his head all night. Not only did he not have an answer, he was afraid that after a deep dive into his feelings, he might stop fighting all together. The fact that a reality where he stopped fighting scared him, but he when he was alone and honest with himself, Harry wasn't truly fighting anymore.

Ever since his temporary flight to Italy, Fleur had steadily wearing him down, though Harry was not as resistant as he had been in January or February. Now at the beginning of April, he did not hide from her rather consistent hugs and displays of affection, though he drew the line at kissing in public. Fleur countered by persistently holding his hand with a smirk on her face as she saw Harry's normally stern countenance at her attempts at romance waver more than once when she managed to drag him into a dark corner to give a more demonstrative display of her feelings.

They did have a guy's night Friday that ended when the boys were caught trying their best to force their way into the Slytherin common room with stink bombs and fleeing from Snape before he could identify them, Harry met Fleur at the entrance to the great hall Saturday morning. To his surprise, he saw Victor and Luna waiting as well.

"Victor, Luna?" Harry asked.

"The blibbering humdingers said you two were planning a fun trip, and I don't like Hogsmeade much," Luna explained.

"Why not?" Harry said with a laugh. "Grab on."

"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore cried, striding forward. "Where are you going? Fourth years cannot leave the castle as they please?"

"You are right," Harry admitting. "Victor and Fleur are 7th years though."

"And I am a Beauxbatons student," Fleur reminded the headmaster. "You have no control over me, Headmaster. Victor and I would be fine to borrow Harry for a ride to a very important meeting. Madame Maxine has already approved it with Harry. We promise he will return after dropping us off." Harry hid a smile at comment. He was still trying to figure out Dumbledore, but it was nice to see him put in place by Fleur.

"See that he does," Dumbledore said stiffly.

"He will try," Luna added. "But he might be tired from carrying three people really far. So maybe he'll have to carry us back Sunday. Magic is certainly hard."

"That is preposterous," Dumbledore blustered.

"She isn't wrong," Harry mildly put forward, totally unaffected by the death glare Dumbledore was giving him, the twinkle he usually used to strong affect long gone. "Three people a long distance through wards is no joke. Besides, I will need to wait for Fleur and Victor to finish their meeting anyways."

"Well, Ms. Lovegood will certainly not be going along," Dumbledore claimed, searching for some form of a victory."

"Of course I will," Luna said with such confidence Dumbledore almost backed down by mistake.

"Ms. Lovegood, I must insist that as your headmaster-"

"Don't worry about that. I am transferring next year anyways. This is a good trial run for a new school with different rules." The three champions around her were floored by that announcement.

"Ms. Lovegood…" Dumbledore was even more stunned. He had never considered Luna Lovegood a valuable piece, but this year surrounded by friends she was flourishing, and could certainly be a valuable pawn in the war to come. Her mother had been an excellent spell creator, and if his nemesis had indeed left disciples behind, Luna's latent talent and occasional insight would be valuable and could be a useful piece to sacrifice to gain information.

"Well, if that's all solved," Harry hesitantly said, grabbing Fleur and Victor. Luna slipped her hand into Victor's, who used his free arm to wrap around Luna. "We should get going."

"Mr. Potter, I insist you tell me where you are going."

"South Africa," Harry said, accompanied by the blue crackle of lighting. It raced around him, enveloping the four students and then blinked out of existence, leaving only empty space. Dumbledore turned and saw the entire hall had been watching the confrontation. He tried to school his angry emotions, but he saw the amusements from some of Harry's friends along with Minerva and Filius and he strode out of the hall, his robes billowing in frustration.

"Are you really going to transfer?" Harry asked as they materialized on a small hill, surrounded by trees with the sun barely peeking over the trees, a heat in the air that would not be seen in Scotland in April, or really any month of the school year. He looked at the blond now almost a foot shorter than him. The Harry was now comfortably taller than Fleur, and met Krum's eyes easily. Now that he was flirting with 6 feet, he was content to stop growing. He was taller than both his past master and his current master, and occasionally it was a struggle to deal with them. While size might be useful in a fight based on strength, it could be an impediment when technique came into play.

"Who knows?" Luna told him. "Sure, I have friends at Hogwarts now, but…"

"But I won't be in England," Victor finished, and Luna nodded sadly.

"And you won't be able to visit often," Luna added

"We don't have to talk about this now." Victor looked around curiously. "We aren't in South Africa, are we Harry?"

"Don't be an idiot," Harry said, which had them all in stiches. "Of course not. We are South though."

"This is gorgeous," Fleur observed as she took in the scenery. "But I do hope we are not camping tonight. Even Wizard tents are not my favorite."

"No, it is just a bit of a hike to where I think we can stay," Harry explained. "We are actually fairly close to the city. We are in the hills near Cusco."

"Cusco?" Victor asked.

"Peru," Harry answered. "If we had more time, I'd say we should do the hike up to Machu Pichu. Apparently, it's quite a sight. But this is a really cool place."

"And how exactly did you come to visit a town in Peru?" Fleur inquired, and Harry could hear that she was less than amused. A non-answer would not be acceptable to her.

"In January, my master, his squad, and I were hunting some criminals smuggling South America goods. They hired a few wizards."

"That kind of raises more questions than it answers," Victor said. "You went and hunted down wizards when you were gone?"

"Occasionally. My master is a harsh taskmaster, and is of the school of thought that real life is the best training" Harry acknowledged. "He throws you in the middle of a mess. Usually if you have trained with him, you are plenty powerful enough anyways."

"So you ended up in Peru?"

Harry told the story of the harrowing chase through the Peruvian mountains as they chased the smugglers, occasionally clashing with their wizard guards. It all culminated in a battle near Cusco where Nambung's squad had gotten ahead of the smugglers and hit the convoy from both sides. Harry did not reveal that it had been a bloodbath. Nambung was already irritated at the current politics being played, but when he learned that the "goods" being traded were people, he executed the survivors of the battle in cold blood. Harry hadn't participated, but he hadn't looked away or protested.

Harry did not hold much back from his story, but was intentionally vague about the death of around 30 smugglers, even though they had already surrendered. There was no reason to let truth get in the way of a good story. But he did end the story with a happy note. Most of the slaves had been from Argentina, so Nambung split his squad and led half back to Argentina. Harry had stayed in Peru and toured, as was described to him "a beautiful place to bring a beautiful lover." He hadn't blushed then, but he had nothing to blush about in January, when he had been with Li Min.

Soon enough the trees thinned and the quaint little town came into view. To Fleur, Krum, and Luna, it felt like no time had passed, entirely enthralled in a fascinating tale of Asian hit wizards against rogue wizards in a far-away land. To his surprise, Fleur was not the one that asked the question someone familiar with politics might ask.

"So why did Korean wizards deal with South American criminals?" Luna asked.

"First of all, the wizards under Nambung's command are not all Korean," Harry felt obliged to correct her. It was a common assumption that the members of the squad his master commanded, the Wolves of Mibu were handpicked by the current unit leader and that the squad dealt with considerable turnover. That was far from the case, and the political concerns regarding new recruits led to the squad being far more cosmopolitan than other special ops teams. This also took in account that the Wolves was the most prestigious squad in Asia since their formation in 1863. "The second in command, the women who led the squad after my master departed, spent most of her life in China. Her name is Li Min, and she is stone cold and very dangerous."

"That is blatantly avoiding my question," Luna pointed out.

"My master has a bit of a…reputation, so he gets special requests sometimes. He chose to take this one as a real life training lesson for me."

"Did it work?" Fleur asked, grabbing his hand and looking at him with concern.

"Well, people were throwing organ-boiling curses at me, and I came out ok. Not to mention I was in command of half the squad, helped organize an ambush, and none of the agents under my command went down. On the whole I was pretty satisfied."

"So, why did you choose to come back here now?" Victor now chimed in. Harry reluctantly conceded and told them what the waiter at his restaurant had told him before he had explained in no uncertain terms that he and Li Min were not a couple. It was one of the few times in his time with the Chinese witch that he had seen her irritated. She was not emotionless, but rather extremely even-keeled, but the thought that she and Harry might be involved had her grinding her teeth, which Harry thought was uncalled for, even if she was twice his age. In the end, the waiter had advised him to come back with the right partner.

"So, where is this waiter?" Fleur prodded him.

"Oh, we are going somewhere else." Harry guided them to a restaurant in the middle of town with a view overlooking the mountains. "Just taking his advice." With the sun setting and creating an otherworldly glow over the town square, the four sampled a variety of odd cuisine. Harry left while the other 3 had desert and came back with the room key 2 hotel rooms. His intentions had been pure, and when Fleur tried to divide the rooms Harry had pointed out Luna's age. Luna had grabbed one of the cards and literally dragged Victor away, leaving Fleur in stiches and Harry a little uncomfortable, though he got a reassuring nod from Victor as Fleur guided him back into the town square for a moonlight stroll.

After what could only be described as a near perfect moon, which illuminated what Harry could only describe as a truly romantic evening, their return to the town and hotel found a guitar player behind them. Inspiration struck Harry, and a little money changed hands before a gentle sound spilled from the guitar. Harry grabbed Fleur's hands and brought her close to him. With her flush against him he wrapped his arms around her and gently swayed.

Fleur was thrilled that Harry was being so considerate, even initiating physical contact. She was truly touched that Harry had decided, without even hinting to her, that this was a good time to enjoy what was truly a romantic weekend between the two. The mood suggested that Fleur give Harry a toe-curling kiss, but she settled for laying her head on his shoulder and snuggling in extra tight to his chest. For now.

The next morning Harry couldn't hide the flush on his face. Fleur had pushed a little, and when they by the time they were ready to sleep, shirts had been strewed across the room. They had both been fairly affectionate last night, and a little more physical in their demonstrations of affection than in the past. When they started to get a little heated Harry had stopped, but upon reflection Harry was both relieved and disappointed, a new and not all to pleasant sensation. Luna was simply glowing as they all devoured breakfast, a consequence of what had been a long day before, but Victor didn't look too troubled. Harry did take Victor aside to have a quick discussion, during which the Bulgarian explained that nothing of real consequence happened and Harry happily took him at his word.

Luna and Fleur were engaged in furtive whispers, and a part of Harry suspected that Luna had suggested that they act like that purely to bother Harry. He let it go on for a few minutes before taking Fleur aside and giving her a searing kiss, which left her blushing and silent. It was an interesting morning as they left the hotel to go walk around some gorgeous ruins with a brilliant sunrise the backdrop to their hike. Harry found himself almost besotted, which he found equal parts exhilarating and unnerving, as it was a not entirely unpleasant change in their relationship. Meanwhile it was Krum's day to take the lead from Luna, who had started to ramble about magical creatures, only to be swiftly silenced with a brief kiss that spoke volumes.

They had walked around barely speaking. There was an odd, magical quality about the day they spent touring the ruins. Not magical in the sense that they would primarily use, but rather a special afternoon that would have been somewhat spoiled by incessant babbling. The ruins were truly beautiful, and while the four had gone there with no knowledge of what they were really looking at, it was still a special day Harry was sure he would remember for a long time.

As early afternoon started to near evening, Harry brought out a surprise picnic lunch he had asked the hotel to prepare last night. His companions were thrilled, and they enjoyed a simple meal overlooking the Peruvian mountains. Again a comfortable silence overtook the party, happy to take in the view and simply enjoy the company. Fleur looked up in surprise as Harry closed his eyes and laid against her shoulder, a relaxed and easy smile settling on his face, one that she had not seen before.

Fleur looked over at Victor, who had Luna in a similar position. Victor had a smile that truly said 1000 words. Luna might believe, correctly so, that Victor would not be in England next year. But looking at the two of them thy demonstrating an ease with each other that made her a little jealous. Fleur suspected that somehow, the Bulgarian seeker, international quidditch star would find a way to be with the quite unusual but special young English witch.

Harry opened his eyes as the sun was nearing the horizon and smiled at Fleur. Her heart never failed to flip flop a little as the love of her life gave her a smile that was only reserved for her. In the back of her mind, a jealous part of Fleur acknowledged Hermione might get the smile as well even if it had a different meaning, but right now it was just her and him. As they stood and prepared for Harry to flash them back, Fleur felt like they had taken a big step this weekend.

She was surprised to find that she was happy that Harry and her had not taken the final step this weekend. Despite how special it was and how romantic the night before had been, it would have felt a little hurried, and in Italy it would have been a mistake as well. Patience was hard for Fleur, but she could tell, from little glances, small touches and soft spoken words that Harry felt different now then he had a month earlier. She was willing to wait to put gentle pressure on him again until the summer. But then, nothing would keep her from claiming him completely.

The crackle of lightning that signified their return occurred right as the gates closed. Harry brought Fleur back to her carriage to bid her goodnight. They barely spoke as Harry bid her goodnight, the look in their eyes communicating clearly to one another. Even if Harry was starting to feel the same way, he would not say the three words that would truly change their relationship into something deeper. But Fleur was content as she went to bed, the shimmering affection clear in Harry's brilliant emerald eyes. It was nice for her to know that she could still leave Harry a little stunned despite not having an ounce of allure on her side. The weekend reminded her of her mother's favorite saying whenever Fleur had been worried she would never find a mate. When love is real, it finds a way. Which this certainly was and would.

It took Harry a few minutes to gather his thoughts at the portrait of the fat lady, who had nothing other than quips for him as his mind settled. The lake appeared is his mind, and the ripples from the boulder that had been Fleur slowly dissipated and Harry calmly shut up the fat lady with the password. His watch showed the clock nearing 11, and as he entered he saw a few 7th years working towards N.E.W.T.s look up but quickly return to studying. However, one friend had stayed up.

"Hey Neville," Harry said, plopping down on the coach next to his friend.

"Hey Harry," Neville said. "Looks like you had a relaxing weekend."

"You know what, I did," Harry admitted. "Don't let it get to your head."

"I'm not saying anything," Neville responded, though his eyes showed something else. "You know, a lot of people would kill to be in your shoes," Neville pointed out. "You could stand to not be acting like someone killed your dog." Harry sneered a bit at that. For obvious reasons, he did not love that metaphor, although Sirius's animagus status was still a closely held secret. "What?"

"Nothing." With supreme effort, Harry smoothed his features. "But it goes the other way too, you know."

"What do you mean?"

"When everyone wants to be you, do you?" Harry mused.

"That's awfully deep for a Sunday night where I doubt you did any homework?"

"Yeah," Harry conceded with a laugh. "Don't be surprised when I miss a lot of class this week."

"You know what people will say when you miss class after this weekend," Neville cautioned.

"I suspect I do," Harry sighed. "I also suspect that Fleur will not care one bit, and I find myself caring less."

"Well, I think it will be ok as long as Skeeter doesn't get ahold of it," Neville noted.

"Skeeter?" Harry asked.

"You don't know who Rita Skeeter is?"

"No, should I?"

"She wrote the article about Victor and Luna. She's a smear journalist. She actually wrote an article about you going dark in the Daily Prophet, and wrote an article about Fleur ensnaring you and the goblet of fire after the Yule Ball."

"Well," Harry pointed out, "I don't read the Daily Prophet, so I suspect that accounts for it."

"Nevertheless, I'd be surprised if someone talked to her. The Krum backlash was serious enough. I know a few people who might be encouraged to be a little more serious than crushing a table if people talk bad about you," Neville proclaimed, his voice rising in volume a little and distracting some of the 7th years for a moment.

"I don't deserve my friends," Harry said in a moment of uncharacteristic sentimental reflection.

"Sure you do," Neville shot back. "For one, we would be failing Defense to a man without you." Harry chuckled and smacked Neville on the shoulder, who faked injury before they both started laughing.

"Maybe not this year."

"Even more this year," Neville countered. "We learn a new spell what seems like every week. Most of which you already know and help us learn."

"Don't worry. I doubt Akira will start to go into the really dangerous spells. Besides, there is no way he will delve into techniques even with you during your morning training."

"Yeah, you haven't been coming to that lately," Neville noted. "What's up with that? We not good enough for you."

"No, you aren't," Harry related honestly. "I'm at Akira's level when we are both holding back, and in some areas I'm definitely better than him. Sensory magic, mental strength, and magical manipulation come to mind. So I'm doing some other stuff. It's why this wall I'm hitting is so frustrating. I feel like I need another serious fight to knock my mind back into shape, but I feel like Dumbledore would frown at that."

"What, killing death eaters?" Neville said. "Portkey into Azkaban and burn the place down."

"You do remember that my falsely convicted godfather was in Azkaban," Harry pointed out.

"Point," Neville acknowledged.

"Besides, killing people is…" Harry trailed off. "Not easy," He finally finished with. Neville glanced at Harry and saw his eyes were far away.

"You have killed more than Bellatrix," Neville guessed.

"Yes," Harry divulged. "Not so many that I can't remember, but what might be an unconscionable amount. It's heavy."

"I can imagine," Neville agreed. They were quieter and quieter now, both pausing to carefully consider their words.

"No you can't," Harry assured him. "For that I am grateful." Neville tipped his head in acknowledgement. "You don't even want to. Sometimes I try to rationalize it. Sometimes it even works. Men and women I know, that I respect, have nothing but hatred for Dumbledore's strategy during the war against Voldemort."

"What, the don't kill your enemies strategy?"

"Ah, so you are acquainted with it?"

"The men who broke my mother and father are rather stark reminders of it. The fact that some of them still walk around breathing at Dumbledore's say so, it makes me sick. It makes my grandmother sick. If I could snap my fingers and kill them now I wouldn't hesitate. Even though she is dead, the fact that I didn't get to personally kill Bellatrix-" Neville was working himself into a fury

"Neville. Take a breath," Harry urged, grabbing his best mate's arm. Neville reluctantly complied, and Harry saw the tension start to ease. "I can't fully relate to what you go through with them, not entirely. I didn't even know what I lost, what you lost until last summer, but you have been dealing with this your entire life. But Dumbledore's stunner only policy spares him, spares the people who fight for him. No matter what choice you choose, it has long reaching consequences. Mercy isn't the worst thing."

"And you think that is right?"

"Neville," Harry stated, "I can tell you with full confidence that I do not know. I don't think Dumbledore knows, though whether or not he is honest about his reasoning is up for debate. He doe seem to truly believes anyone can be redeemed." Harry looked down at his watch and saw both arrows at 12. "Having this discussion is not a bad thing, but not having more viewpoints is tough, and dealing in absolutes is fairly limiting. Besides, it is late."

"So we should stop?"

"Before either of us say something we regret." Harry pointed at Neville's clenched fists. "Besides some of us have class tomorrow."

"Ok," Neville said, unclenching his fists. "Harry, thanks for listening, and not…you know?"

"Not judging?" Harry mildly put forward.

"Yeah."

"I never will." Neville smiled at that and headed up to bed, but Harry remained seated looking into the flickering fire in the fireplace, his eyes far away as he remembered a different flickering fireplace and an even harder discussion.

-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-

February, 1995

"How do you deal with it?" Harry asked his master.

"Harry I can't remember everyone I've killed. I lost track when I was child. Say what you want about your horrible uncle and aunt…" There was nothing either of them could say. Harry had endured a miserable childhood, but Nambung had literally lived through a nightmare before meeting Takashi Hayashi. No, nightmare wasn't the right term, Harry silently concluded. Nightmare would suggest that someone might be able to imagine it. "I don't bear. I can't. No one can."

"You seem rather sane for someone who can't bear it," Harry remarked.

"Oh I am," Nambung agreed. "But I think I keep how it affects me to myself. Its why the Wolf of Mibu usually serves less than 3 years, and why the men and women who abdicate the position don't go on to live full lives."

"You have been the Mibu Wolf for 4 years," Harry pointed out.

"Exactly. Killing people, countless people, wasn't a new experience for me," Nambung explained. "But it still tears the soul and mind. More than I'd like to admit. I see them."

"What do you mean?"

"Sometimes at night, sometimes when I am alone and it is quiet." Nambung rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I don't believe in hell, but that is where they rise from. They grab onto me, pulling me down. 'Come join us brother,' they say. 'Come to this world of death, where you belong.' And then I wake up, or I hear a sound, and they are gone. Always surrounding me, wherever I go. I hear the whispers, or sometimes the outright accusations. Nambung, the mad killer. The Wolf of Mibu who drinks the blood of his dead."

"It's weighty," Nambung continued. "Not my reputation. That was in tatters years ago, and what people think…well I like to think I don't let it bother me. But sometimes I can wash for hours, even when I haven't fought, and I still see it and smell it. The red iron that is the blood of so many I killed, innocents and monsters alike. It's what makes a master a monster. It's what makes me who I am. And I won't change that, as much as there are times I wish I could. A monster is always a monster, no matter how you dress it up."

"A wolf is always a wolf," Harry concluded.

"Yes," Nambung agreed. "You can tame a weak man with money. But I was never something so simple as a man. You can tame a lame dog with food. I was certainly never a dog, lame or otherwise. Like those before me, I was the Mibu Wolf before the title was mine. Because there will never be anything can tame the Mibu Wolf."