AN: As a forewarning, there will be issues pertaining to gender and sexuality heavily featured in this story. Mostly surrounding Harry as he examines and explores who he is a person. I assure you that the story will not revolve solely around these issues, however it is going to be a part of Harry's personal journey as well as how others see him, and as such it will be featured prominently in the earlier chapters. I certainly hope that isn't a deal breaker for any readers, either new or returning, but at the end of the day if it isn't for you then that's okay. There's an entire world of Harry Potter fanfiction out there, my goal is to write a story that I myself would enjoy reading.

For the returning readers, I would like to point out that most of this first chapter is brand new and what isn't has been heavily edited or rewriten. Chapter two will contain most of what was originally chapter one and while it has been less heavily edited there have been several tweaks to it as well.

Disclaimer: It should be clear at this point that I do not own any portion of the intellectual property of Harry Potter, nor do I intend to make any profit off of this story.


Le Sirènes of the Triwizard Tournament

Chapter One: The Chains of Destiny

June 9th, 1994- Third year

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark them as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...""

Harry Potter stared at Albus Dumbledore with a mixture of shock, despair, and rage bubbling up in his chest. Only five minutes earlier he had been reeling with joy at having freed his Godfather, his last chance of gaining something resembling a family of his own, barring the Dursleys who never counted in the first place. Unfortunately five minutes could make all the difference in the world when you were Harry Potter.

The fact that he supposedly had great potential, as evidenced by his ability to repulse what more or less amounted to an army of dementors on his own, offered Harry little satisfaction. An offer from Dumbledore to accept him as his apprentice, clearly the chance of a lifetime, also failed to engender much enthusiasm from the thirteen year old as he desperately tried, and failed, to contain the emotions warring within him.

The only thing that mattered from this point going forward was the revelation that Tom Riddle, known to the majority of the wizarding world as Lord Voldemort, had marked him as his 'equal' on that Halloween night twelve years earlier. Harry knew better than to believe for even a second that he was anywhere near as powerful as Voldemort was, nor did he have any sort of experience to make up for it in finesse, and while he had managed to narrowly survive his previous encounters with the dark lord it was clear that eventually his luck would run out. His bet was that it would be sooner rather than later.

Frankly, the thought that a malnourished thirteen year old kid was supposed to save the entire British magical world from what was very possibly the most powerful dark lord of the century was a joke. Sure, it was a terrible joke, one made in poor taste, but it was a joke nonetheless. So, in summary, Harry Potter was both terrified and furious that the responsibility to save everybody fell directly on his shoulders; the fact that there hadn't been a plan on how to train him from the moment he could hold a wand only furthered his belief that this was doomed to end in tragedy for the boy who lived.

An overwhelming urge to tear Dumbledore's office apart, ensuring that all of the shining and whirling instruments on display were shattered beyond repair, nearly boiled over into reality. Beyond that Harry desperately wanted to scream at his headmaster, to throw every last insult he knew at the man, and demand that if he loved Britain so much then HE should save it, after all it wasn't as if the world had done him many favors to this point. As it was it took every ounce of willpower Harry had to remain in his seat, directing a smouldering glare at the old man.

"Professor, with all due respect, what the hell were you thinking keeping me in the dark about this? I should have been training to fight Voldemort every day since stepping off the Hogwarts express! As it stands I hardly know anything about the magical world at large, and I don't even know a single combat spell aside from stupefy or protego!" The younger wizard asked in a tone that did little to mask his righteous indignation at the situation he found himself in.

Dumbledore let out a deep sigh and slowly shook his head in resignation, "I'm afraid, Harry, that I have made many mistakes in my life, but there are few that I regret more than the way I've chosen to treat you. I had hoped that you could live a normal life, have a good childhood, and that we would eventually be able to face Tom together when you were an adult. With this most recent demonstration of Sybill's ability to foresee the future, however, I recognize that it was a grave error on my part not to have started preparing you for this inevitability much earlier. And in light of the Dursleys' treatment of you I'm afraid I also cost you the chance to enjoy the peaceful years that I'd delayed your training to ensure. For what it is worth, I am genuinely sorry to have failed you so thoroughly, Harry."

The boy who lived felt his shoulders slump in defeat at the old man's words. It was difficult enough knowing that he was in a hopeless situation, in more ways than one, but to have it spoken aloud only served to make it even more real to him. Seeing his pupil in such clear despair, Dumbledore reached across his desk to put a gentle hand on the teenager's shoulder, "All is not lost, Harry. While I may have misjudged the severity of the situation, our fates are far from sealed and I will do everything in my power to ensure that you are up to the task ahead of you. We do not know, as of yet, when Tom will return to his body, simply that it will happen sooner than I had anticpated. Until then I and the others in this castle can train you to be able to fight him, if you wish."

Harry raised his head from his hands to redirect his demoralized gaze at Dumbledore for several moments until finally he couldn't take sitting across from the wizard anymore and pushed himself up from his seat. "You're right, there's no telling when Voldemort might come back..." He muttered as he began pacing back and forth in front of the headmaster's desk, "But I need to make sure that when he does I'm as ready as I can be. What do you want me to do, Professor?"

Dumbledore smiled comfortingly at the nervous display, "I will work out a schedule for you to follow, Harry. Once I have finalized it then I will call you up. Suffice to say that you will be staying quite busy here in the castle this summer, rather than returning to your relatives' home for any significant period. I will personally instruct you in a mutltitude of subjects including magical theory, maneuvering the political landscape and, once you are ready, I will introduce you to a selection of powerful spells. You'll also receive additional tutoring from Minerva for advanced transfiguration and I'm sure that, if Filius has the time, he would be thrilled to be your dueling instructor. Appearances can be deceiving, in his case more than most, but he is a highly decorated dueling champion and you would do well to learn from him so, should he clear his schedule, I expect you to heed his lessons diligently

You will also need to master the subtler arts of both preparing and identifying potions as well as protecting your mind, I am quite certain Severus will be a capable instructor in these areas." The elder wizard paused for a moment at the look of distrust that spread across his pupil's face upon hearing the potion master's name, "While I am well aware of your rivalry with Professor Snape, Harry, it is of crucial importance that you both approach this matter with the utmost seriousness. If need be I will take over the training of your oclumency, however it is important that you learn to work with those that you dislike. I will spare you a further lecture on the subject for tonight, but it is a vital lesson. Returning to the subject at hand, I will speak with my contacts in the Auror Corps and see what I can do about procuring an instructor for your magical and physical endurance training. You will have a very difficult summer, Harry, make no mistake about that. But by the time it is over I expect that you will be prepared to take the next step on your path."

Without a second thought Harry offered an enthusiastic nod, jumping on the chance to escape the Dursleys for the summer, despite his misgivings about spending even part of his summer with Snape. The fact that he would be training with more than just the greasy haired git more than made up for the compromise, not that he had much choice in the matter if he wanted to grow at all, "Okay...I'll do it. Is there anything else, Professor?"

Dumbledore shook his head gently, "Aside from me wishing you a good evening, I do not believe so. Please do make sure to speak to your friends before they leave, Harry. You may only have the chance to see them once or twice this summer, if at all."

Harry nodded again and, after wishing Dumbledore a good night as well, he made his way out of the Headmaster's office and back to the hospital wing. As he navigated the familiar corridors and waited on the moving staircases, he couldn't help but wonder what the summer's training would be like, and found himself feeling a mixture of joy and nervousness at the thought.


June 15th, 1994

It had been strange to watch from inside Hogwarts as the rest of the student body boarded the train to head home for summer break, but it was even stranger now that Harry found himself the sole student within the castle's walls. Even most of the professors had left for the summer, save the few that actually lived there or that had agreed to stay or make trips in order to 'tutor' him. It all combined to imbue the halls with a somewhat eery atmosphere as he wandered them on his own, particularly given his somewhat gloomy disposition towards his future.

Thankfully he hadn't had much time to examine those thoughts since he was immediately launched into his summer curriculum the day after the end of term. Already he'd been thrown headfirst into his political and magical theory studies with Dumbledore along with having his first lesson in advanced transfiguration back to back with Professor Flitwick's explanation of the fundamentals of dueling in both competitive and informal contexts. Truthfully out of the three of them he'd expected that the headmaster's classes would be the easiest, but he quickly came to realize that the student body of Hogwarts had absolutely no clue how lucky they were that Dumbledore wasn't the one assigning them homework on a regular basis.

After just the first lesson Harry had found himself nearly overwhelmed by the workload cheerily assigned to him by his mentor once it had been added to McGonagall's insistence that he should at least be proficient at transfiguring inorganic materials to organic or, preferably, living creatures by her next class. The fact that he was expected to go from the end of the his third year to what practically amounted to O.W.L. level magic in addition to his other studies left him feeling blindsided. Even so it was leagues better than being confined to his prison at Privet Drive and once he'd managed to get past the initial shock he even found himself enjoying the challenges facing him. In fact Harry was certain that the Gryffindor house head would be satisfied with his progress when he showed up in her office after lunch.

Unfortunately today would also be his first day of occlumency lessons with Snape who, judging from the glares he directed towards Harry throughout the course of breakfast, wasn't any happier with the arrangement Dumbledore had insisted on than Harry was. As nervous as he was to deal with him later though, he did his best to ignore his distrust of the greasy git in favor of concentrating on reading Professor Flitwick's pocket manual for dueling strategies and rules while simultaneously devouring the sandwich and crisps provided to him by one of the castle's many house elves.

Somehow the fact that the bulk of Hogwarts' cooking and cleaning was performed by house elves had shocked him when he realized it, and it had raised several concerns on his part as he recalled just how poorly Dobby had been treated. It had taken some convincing by both the headmaster and a handful of elves before it became clear to him that the castle's servants were very well treated and, in fact, happy in their positions. 'I wonder how Dobby's doing...maybe I should ask Dumbledore about him sometime.'

Of course the somewhat crazed elf had broken his arm with a cursed bludger so maybe not. Rather than dwell on the results of the overzealous elf's 'protection' Harry quickly finished off his lunch and stood to brush the crumbs from his shirt, only to wince as a dull, itching pain throbbed in his chest. As quickly as the sensation came it faded away, leaving the teenager to shake his head in confusion before leaving the hall to make his way to McGonagall's office, 'Maybe I'm finally getting a growth spurt or something?' Whatever the cause, Harry put it out of his mind. He had much more important problems to deal with than teenage growing pains.

Ascending to the seventh floor from the great hall took Harry at least fifteen minutes, even with help from the castle's many secret passages, and by the time he knocked on his head of house's door he found himself with absolutely no time to spare. "You may enter."

Professor McGonagall looked up from her desk as Harry stepped into her office, closing the door behind him, "Mister Potter, right on time. If only you could be so considerate during the school year, please take a seat."

Despite the lack of an audience, Harry felt the burning shame he'd come to associate with more public tongue lashings from the strict professor as he silently slid into the chair opposite her. The scratch of quill on parchment was the only sound in the office for a moment until McGonagall returned the writing utensil to its inkwell and leaned back in her seat, refocusing her gaze on her student. "I hope that you had a good lunch, Mister Potter, you're going to need the energy today. Have you made progress on the task that I assigned you Monday?"

The teen nodded quickly, "Yes, I had a lot of trouble in the beginning but I think I'm starting to get it. I managed to transfigure the block into a cat last night, but it switched back after a couple of minutes."

His response elicited a raised eyebrow from his instructor and he felt his chest tighten in expectation of disapproval. Instead the deputy headmistress simply opened a drawer in her desk to pull out a heavy looking rubber block and set it on the surface, "Show me."

Harry nodded and drew his wand, taking a deep breath. At Dumbledore's insistence he had been working very hard to practice casting his spells nonverbally but even so McGonagall watched with concealed amusement as his lips silently formed the words. Her amusement evaporated immediately when the dense cube started sprouting fur as it shifted and formed itself into a somewhat rough looking house cat. She leaned in to study the creature closer, noting the patches of rubbery fur scattered across its body, and when it let out a soft meow she heard the telltale squeak of malformed vocal chords, but yes it was most certainly a living cat.

Looking back up at her pupil she saw him grimacing as he concentrated on maintaining the transformation until she held up a hand, "You can let it lapse now." The moment the words left her mouth the cat shuddered and let out one last pathetic yowl before collapsing in on itself as the cube regained its original shape, though she noted with interest that it retained a small patch of fur on the side facing her. "Will you explain to me why you've been holding out on me, Mister Potter?"

Harry blinked in confusion at the question and shook his head as he tried to make sense of it, "I...don't understand, professor. You told me you wanted me to be able to transfigure inorganic material to living creatures by your next class, I had to practice as hard as I could to figure it out."

Minerva let out a deep sigh, "What I meant was that I expected you to be able to transfigure an animal out of inorganic material by your next term, Mister Potter, not within the space of a single week. What I want to know is why you're able to do this now when for the last three years you've shown little aptitude for my subject while in class. What you just showed me is that while you barely managed to scrape together an E on your finals you should have easily had an Outstanding score, in fact that demonstration would have certainly received an Acceptable from most O.W.L.s examiners. Why is that? Do my classes bore you?"

The dark haired wizard shifted uncomfortably under his teacher's searching gaze, "No, it doesn't bore me, Professor, I just..." He trailed off for a moment as he tried to formulate an answer. Truth be told he hadn't thought much about his grades since coming to Hogwarts. The last time he had actually tried had been in primary school but when he brought home a test score higher than Dudley's he'd been locked in the cupboard with no dinner for a week for 'cheating'. "I don't know. I guess that since I learned what I have to do, and how far behind I am where I should be, that I need to be better."

"Are you really telling me that it took the threat of facing You Know Who to motivate you to take your studies seriously? When you have this much potential?!" McGonagall asked skeptically, a frown tugging at her thin lips. Rather than give a proper response Harry simply shrugged uncomfortably, unable to meet her eyes, drawing another sigh from the deputy headmistress. "Very well, I won't keep digging for answers if you aren't going to give them to me, Harry."

The boy who lived blinked and glanced up at his tutor at her use of his first name. He was surprised to see the typically stern teacher regarding him with a sympathetic eye, "I'm afraid that I don't have anything more to teach you this afternoon since you've so thoroughly demonstrated your understanding of the lesson. On Thursday I am going to evaluate where you actually are and craft a plan in order to help you achieve your true potential. Here, take this block and practice what you just showed me, by our next meeting I expect you to demonstrate a more fully detailed transfiguration for me."

There was a fondness in McGonagall's expression that Harry couldn't place. He was certain that he'd never seen it before but the way she looked at him made him feel as if she was seeing someone else in his seat, "Yes, Professor." He replied hesitantly, before standing up and grabbing the cube from her desk. He waited for her to nod before turning to leave, but paused at the door as her voice reached him again.

"Now that the cat is out of the bag, so to speak, I expect you to put forth your full effort, Mister Potter. Both in these lessons and during the school year, do you understand?"

Harry glanced back towards his head of house in surprise, Professor McGonagall didn't tell jokes, never in his entire time at Hogwarts had he heard her tell one at least. Regardless he nodded vigorously, drawing a rare smile from her as he did so, "I promise I'll do my best, Professor."

"Good, you may leave now. Have a nice day, Harry."


While Harry had left McGonagall's office in a dazed excitement at the revelation that he wasn't actually as far behind in her subject as both of them had thought he quickly found himself brought back to reality as he entered the dungeons for his first occlumency lesson. Snape's classroom always held a gloomy air to it, whether it was choked with potion fumes or not, and he found that it was no different during the summer than it was during the majority of the year. Unfortunately that assessment held true for the potions master as well.

"Shut the door and sit down, Potter. You'll wait for me to finish before I waste my time with you."

Tempted as he was to turn around and walk right back out of the dungeons, Harry bit his tongue and followed the instructions. He knew well beforehand that these lessons would be tedious, but he promised Professor Dumbledore to take them seriously and that's exactly what he planned to do come hell or high water. While Snape had clearly been worried about having his own time wasted, he apparently had no concerns about the value of his pupil's as he ignored his presence.

Fifteen minutes into the wait Harry could feel an impatient frustration building within him and had to take a deep breath to remain calm, inhaling the harsh scent of Snape's potion as his eyes wandered the room. He knew better than to stare directly at the greasy git but had trouble finding something else to concentrate on until his gaze landed on the blackboard. Typically the name of whatever potion Snape had them brewing that day was named, followed by ingredients and instructions for brewing it, but now it was only the latter.

His interest piqued, after all he had to do something while he waited for the professor to actually teach him, Harry quietly slid a slip of parchment along with a quill from his bag and started copying the notes from the board. For some reason it seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite place why until Snape doused the flame beneath his cauldron and dispelled the smoke, leaving a sweeter but no less harsh scent hanging in the air. "Sir, is that a healing potion?"

The potions master cast a murderous stare at his student, pausing from transferring the contents of the cauldron into vials, "No, it's skelegrow, Potter. I would have thought you'd recognize the scent, but I suppose that's expecting too much from a dimwit like you. Now silence, you will speak when spoken to." He sneered derisively before returning to the task of bottling.

Harry glared back at the man, but quickly turned his gaze to his parchment instead to hide his anger. A prickly itching sensation spread across the back of his neck but he tried to ignore it in favor of scribbling the name of the potion at the top of his parchment before shoving it and the quill back into his bag. Thankfully it only took a few more minutes for Snape to finish what he was doing before clearing both the board and the remaining contents of his cauldron. Unfortunately that left little else for the hateful man to focus his attention on than him.

"Why are you here, Potter?"

An awkward pause lingered as Harry tried to understand the question, surely Snape knew exactly what he was supposed to be doing in his classroom, "Professor Dumbledore said I needed to-"

"I know what the headmaster wants you to learn. I want to know what arrogance led you to believe you're so special as to warrant both my attention and the unprecedented privilege to stay in the castle over the summer. Do you truly believe you're the first to ask?" The pale man glared down at his student, not bothering to hide his disdain.

"Sir, I didn't ask to sta-"

"Don't lie to me, Potter. I won't need veritaserum to get the truth from you if you do."

The boy who lived gritted his teeth at the constant interruptions from the older man, "I'm not lying, Sir, Dumbledore-"

"That's Professor Dumbledore to you, or has your head gotten so big as to think you're above respecting the headmaster?" A predatory glint in the potion master's eye told Harry all he needed about the man's motivations for his attempts to rile him up, but he refused to fall for the bait.

"Professor Dumbledore asked me to stay in order to prepare myself for Voldemo-"

Snape's eyes practically bulged from their sockets as he interrupted again, "He who must not be named! You will not use the dark lord's name in my presence, Potter! You clearly have little value for your own life, but I will not have mine risked by your arrogance."

Harry's fists clenched beneath the table, "Professor Dumbledore says it."

"The headmaster is a greater man than you will ever be and I have no sway over his words. You, however, will follow my instructions or leave my classroom immediately. Do you understand?" Snape leaned in close enough that his curtain of greasy hair threatened to obscure Harry's vision as the two glared at each other.

Several tense moments of silence passed as the two stared into each others' eyes angrily until finally Harry broke eye contact, turning his head as he nodded, "Understood, Sir."

"Let us hope so, Potter." The older man spat before returning to the task at hand, "Moving on, since you're unable to provide an adequate answer to my question, the headmaster has insisted that I instruct you in the ways of occlumency. I fail to understand why, given the simplicity of your mind, but he has made it clear that he wants your thoughts shielded from onlookers or outside influence...so much as it can be."

Rather than respond Harry continued staring angrily at his instructor's chest, refusing to meet his eyes again even as he slammed his hands onto the table in front of him, "That means that I will be breaching your mind in order to teach you how to resist such attacks. In order to repel me you will attempt to resist me, this requires that you clear your mind and focus solely on the task of creating a barrier between the two of us. Do you understand?"

The boy who lived considered the question for a moment, 'I have to clear my mind? How am I supposed to do that while also concentrating on resisting him?'

"Well, Potter?"

Tempted as he was to simply nod and move on, Harry realized that pretending he understood wouldn't get him anywhere...though at the moment he wasn't sure being honest would either. Even so he took a deep breath before shaking his head, "No, I don't. How am I supposed to clear my mind at the same time as I'm trying to keep you out?"

A derisive snort escaped the potion master at his response, "What a surprise, the boy wonder fails to grasp the most basic aspect of the art. Fine, I'll walk you through the process so that you don't waste any more of my time than is absolutely necessary. Close your eyes." The teenager cast a wary glance towards Snape but followed his instructions, half expecting to be insulted for the way he closed his eyes as well, "Now picture an image in your head, it needs to come naturally to you so don't make it too complex...don't tell me what it is, I don't care."

Harry rolled his eyes behind their lids but concentrated on doing as he was told. Slowly an image of his mother on her wedding day, his favorite picture of her from the photo album Hagrid had given him, began to form. "Do you have your image? Don't speak, just nod if you do. Good...now what you will do is focus solely on that image, if any thoughts occur in that empty brain of yours ignore them and refocus on it. Once you've managed to do that open your eyes."

It took several minutes for him to gain a clear focus, every time a stray thought invaded his mind he had to start over, but finally he took a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes, only to have them snap wide open as he saw Snape staring back at him with his wand drawn, "Legimens!"

A suffocating sensation overtook Harry as he felt a foreign presence invade his very being. He desperately tried to cling to the image of his mother in her wedding dress but almost immediately she faded away only to be replaced by a stream of disconnected memories. He saw Hagrid beating down the door to the lighthouse before his first year, a dark figure crouched over the twitching form of a dying unicorn, his aunt Marge's bulldog chasing him up a tree at Privet Drive, a thin girl with long curly hair huddled in a cupboard and crying for her mother, the screams of his own mother as she begged for his life before a flash of green light illuminated the room. Suddenly the barrage of images ended and Harry found himself back in Hogwarts' dungeons, gasping desperately for air as tears ran down his face.

It took several moments for him to regain his bearings enough to form words, "W-what was that?" He managed to gasp before clutching his head as it throbbed painfully.

Snape wore an uncharacteristically thoughtful look as he considered the question, though it quickly faded as he returned his attention to his student, "They were your memories, the ones you were supposed to be protecting." He replied simply before pausing, "Who was that girl in the dark?"

The teenager shook his head in confusion, 'That was my cupboard, but...'

"I don't know...I don't remember ever seeing her before."

The man's eyes narrowed suspiciously though he didn't press any further, "It doesn't matter, now clear your mind. Actually make an effort to keep me out this time, if you're even capable of it."

Harry opened his mouth to protest but found himself staring down the shaft of Snape's wand once again and desperately reached out for the image of his mother before the sound of the spell met his ears, "Legimens!"

Darkness surrounded him again, the foreign presence was back and pressing insistently against his mind as he desperately clawed to keep it from breaking through. For a moment the pressure let up and Harry thought he might have actually succeeded until it crashed back against his mind like a wave, first cracking and then utterly destroying his resistance. The chamber of secrets swam before his eyes, Tom Riddle twirling his own wand before him as venom seared in his veins, the dementors of Azkaban were descending upon Sirius as he desperately tried to fend them off to no avail, a ten year old Harry laid bruised in his cupboard quietly singing happy birthday to himself, and then...The roar of the wind and the crowd rushed through his ears as he chased down the snitch. He'd just spotted it and Draco was on his tail, but something was wrong...there was a confused shouting in the stands, enough to get him to look over his shoulder just in time to see a bludger coming right for him. He tried to dodge it but-

Suddenly the memory became hazy and started looping back on itself. He felt the presence in his mind pushing further but it seemed as if it were stuck somehow until finally it retreated and once again he saw Snape standing in front of him. "Did you mean to keep me in the quidditch match?"

The younger wizard shook his head, wincing as he did so, "No, I was trying to get my image back but it wouldn't form right."

"So even your success was a failure, typical." Harry wanted to argue that if it worked then it hadn't failed but didn't have time before the older man turned away from him.

"I'm done with you for today, you will come back tomorrow evening at the same time for your next lesson. Until then focus on clearing your mind and reflect on your memories. Try to categorize them, if you can manage it, doing so will allow you easier recall and reduce the stray thoughts that weaken your mind. And since you stole my potion instructions, you'll be brewing skelegrow on Friday...I expect that I'll enjoy watching you fail miserably. Now leave, Potter, before I make you scrub my cauldrons."

Harry quickly snatched his bag and headed for the door, unwilling to give Snape the chance to make good on his threat. He already had a pounding headache and the last thing he needed was blisters on his hands from leftover potion ingredients. It didn't take him long to navigate his way out of the dungeons and from there to the hospital wing, with the hope that Madame Pomfrey would have something for his head.


The next day began in much the same way as the last week had. Harry woke up at eight, showered, had breakfast, and then retreated to the library to bury his nose in the homework assigned to him by his tutors. It wasn't until he started packing up his books so that he could head up to Dumbledore's office that he realized his day would be any different than the previous ones. That realization came in the form of a house elf materializing in the library with a loud pop, startling both himself and Madame Pince, and immediately launching itself at him as if it were a living cannon ball before wrapping its knobby arms around his waist in a tight hug. "Ack! What-"

"Master Harry Potter, Sir! Dobby has been wanting so long to see you and now he can!"

Harry's mind raced as he struggled to keep his cool at the unexpected assault on his midsection, but as he looked down at the teary tennis ball shaped eyes framed by floppy ears the elf's words finally registered. "Dobby?! What are you doing here?"

Suddenly, his eyes even wetter at being recognized, Dobby released his stranglehold on Harry's waist and backed up with a wide smile, "Headmaster Dumbleydore calls for an elf and Dobby answered him, he did! When Dobby answers Dumbleydore tellses him he needs an elf to bring the great Harry Potter to him! Dobby does not believe it because Dumbleydore says that he should not disturb Master Harry Potter unless he asks him to so he never has, but now Dobby gets to get see you again!"

Shaking his head in confusion as he tried to follow the manic elf's explanation, Harry still found himself stuck on what Dobby was even doing in the castle, "Okay, but I mean what are you doing at Hogwarts? I thought you were free now, why did you stay here?"

Dobby's eyes widened in excitement and he pulled a coin from the immaculate tea towel he wore as a toga, "Dobby is a free elf, thanks to the great Harry Potter! But as a free elf it is hard to find a family to take Dobby in, so the great Dumbleydore told Dobby that he would hire him to work at Hogwarts! Dobby never dreamed he could work someplace so great, but now he does and Dumbleydore even pays Dobby two galleons a month!"

A wave of relief washed over Harry as the elf confirmed that he hadn't just went from one form of slavery to another, however more gentle, version in Hogwarts. "Congratulations, then, Dobby, I'm happy for you." He smiled, only to let out a soft "oof" as the elf drove his face into his shirt in an even tighter hug than the first.

"Master Harry Potter is too kind to Dobby!" The elf squeaked ecstatically before retreating once again to bounce anxiously, "But we must hurry, Dumbleydore says that he wants you to meet him at the come and go room!"

The teenager stared down at Dobby blankly, trying to parse his meaning before shaking his head, "I don't know where that is, Dobby..."

"That's why Dobby is here, he can show you the way, Master Harry Potter sir! Hurry, or Headmaster Dumbleydore might tell Dobby not to see you again!"

With more urgency than Harry had ever seen in a house elf Dobby grabbed his hand and started trying to pull him towards the library exit, "Okay, Dobby, I'm coming don't worry." He assured him before extricating his hand from the elf's surprisingly tight grip and grabbing his bag.

The pair hurriedly made their way through Hogwarts' halls, taking secret passages that Harry had never seen even on the marauder's map. Within ten minutes, a new record for Harry, the two of them were standing in front of a door he was quite certain he'd never seen before, despite the fact that it was between two portraits he passed on a near daily basis. "Dobby, where did this door come from?"

The elf bounced anxiously at the question, clearly wanting to accomplish his mission but apparently couldn't resist answering his idol, "It is the come and go room, Dobby thinks wizards call it the room of requirement. It makes whatever you need appear, Master Harry Potter just has to walk between the pictures three times and think about what it is he needs and it will be inside!"

A slow realization dawned on Harry's face at the explanation and he grinned, "Wicked...that seems really useful."

Dobby nodded rapidly before grabbing the wizard's hand again and tugging him towards the door, "Hurry, hurry! Dobby wants Dumbleydore to see that he can help master Harry Potter too!"

Harry rolled his eyes but smiled as he shook his head, "Don't worry, Dobby, I'll let him know that I don't mind you coming around." He told him before opening the door, drawing an excited squeak from the elf.

"Master Harry Potter is a great and kind wizard and much better to Dobby than he deserves!"

The teenager paused halfway into the room at the elf's words before spinning on his heel and dropping onto one knee so that he was eye level with Dobby, "That's not true, Dobby, you're my friend and you deserve to be treated the same as anybody else. I know the Malfoys treated you awfully, but if anybody ever hurts you or treats you like that again I want you to tell me immediately. Do you understand?"

Dobby froze in his tracks at his words and for a moment Harry was afraid he might have triggered an unpleasant memory at the mention of the Malfoys until the elf began bawling as he engulfed his arm in a tight hug, "Dobby is Master Harry Potter's friend?!"

What started out as a heartwarming moment quickly became somewhat uncomfortable for the wizard as his shirt started soaking up the house elf's tears, "Uh, y-yeah, as long as you want to be, Dobby."

He could feel Dobby nodding vigorously against his arm and was about to try to figure a way out of the situation he'd gotten himself in when a familiar voice filled him with relief, "I'm afraid, Dobby, that while Harry may be happy to spend more time with you later he is going to require the use of his arm for the duration of the afternoon."

Almost immediately the house elf released Harry's arm, allowing him to push himself back to his feet and turn towards Dumbledore, "Hello, Professor...I was about to head up to your office when Dobby found me, is everything alr-" He paused halfway through his sentence as he registered the two figures in blue cloaks standing on either side of the headmaster. "Err...hi."

An amused smile tugged at the old wizard's lips at his pupil's realization that they weren't alone, "Everything is quite alright, Harry, not to worry. Dobby, thank you for fetching Harry for me, you've performed excellently. You may go now."

Dobby beamed ecstatically at the praise and turned to Harry to wave before popping off to some unknown part of the castle, leaving Harry standing somewhat awkwardly with the three adults, "So..."

"Ah, introductions of course. I apologize, Harry, these are the aurors that I contacted for your training, Mister Kingsley Shacklebolt and Miss Nymphadora Tonks, they'll be overseeing your physical and magical endurance training." Dumbledore explained, motioning to the two of them in turn, "And this, my friends, is Harry Potter."

Harry thought he noticed the woman stiffen somewhat at the headmaster's introduction but she seemed to get over it fairly quickly as the two of them approached him, the tall black auror offering him his hand first, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry, though I'm afraid I won't actually be directly taking part in most of your training. I'm here in a purely supervisory role for my partner here." He offered, nodding to the pink haired woman as she stepped up next to him.

"He says that, but really it just means he'll be the one sitting on his arse while you and I do all the hard work." She grinned, holding out her hand, "The name's Tonks, not Nymphadora. I've actually met you once before, I was taking my NEWTS when you started your first year. I'm the girl that helped you figure out the staircase on the way to Professor Flitwick's class!"

The auror's grin only grew wider as she watched the teenager wrack his brain trying to remember something that happened three years earlier, though she blinked in surprise when he slowly nodded, "Yeah, I think I remember that. Thanks for your help, but you look...different than I remember."

Kingsley rolled his eyes as the younger auror gasped in excitement at being recognized by the boy who lived, her hair flashing a bright yellow for a moment before resettling on pink, "Imagine that...go ahead and tell him, I know you'll explode if you don't." He ribbed playfully while Harry simply gaped at her hair's display.

Tonks snorted at her partner's jab but nonetheless rounded back on the younger wizard enthusiastically, "I bet I did, see I'm a metamorphmagus! It means I can change how I look whenever I want, like this!"

Harry stared in amazement as the auror's face shifted itself into a different shape while new colors bled into her hair and skin tone, leaving her looking like an entirely different person in three seconds flat. "Wicked...how do you do that?! Is it something I can learn?"

The now older asian lady shook her head proudly, before shifting back into her pink haired form, "'Fraid not, bet you'd love to be able to hide that scar, yeah? Unfortunately it's something you have to be born with, you either have it or you don't. Actually, as far as I know, I'm the only metamorphmagus in all of Britain that can do full body changes, most people can only do things like their hair or eye colors but I can do it all!"

A wave of disappointment that he didn't entirely understand washed over Harry at her explanation, though he still offered her a grin, "That's so cool!"

It was clear from Tonks' expression that he'd just made her day, in fact it looked like she was about to continue explaining her abilities when Shacklebolt stepped back into the conversation, clearly done with the niceties, "Alright that's enough, you two. If you want to make friends after training hours that's between the two of you but right now we have business to take care of."

The younger auror shot her partner a disappointed look but nodded with a sigh, "Yeah, you're right. We only have a couple of months to whip you into shape before school starts back up. Means that we're gonna have to do this the least fun way possible, so I hope you don't hate me once this is all over, Harry."

Harry glanced between the two aurors nervously at her assessment before looking towards Dumbledore for help, only to see him headed for the door, "It appears that the two of you are more than capable of accomplishing the goals that we discussed, so please carry on. Harry, we'll have to reschedule our lessons to be at one each afternoon, I will inform Minerva of the change to your schedule as well."

With that the headmaster exited the room, letting the door swing shut with a certain insidiousness to it. The dark haired wizard turned his attention back towards the aurors who both had discarded their cloaks to reveal athletic wear beneath them, "I hope you had a good breakfast today, Harry, 'cause you're going to be hating life in about fifteen minutes. Why don't you transfigure those clothes into something you can work out in?"

While the witch's words were framed as a suggestion it was clear that they were meant as an order. Unfortunately he hadn't ever done much working out other than when he was at quidditch practice so all he had to go off of for reference were the clothes the aurors were wearing. Nevertheless he quickly tapped his shirt, pants, and shoes and watched as they shifted into a similar style of dress as Tonks, drawing a raised eyebrow from the larger auror, "Interesting choice...but whatever you're comfortable in works. Now, as I said, normally I will simply be an observer as Tonks leads your training, but I like to be active so I'll occasionally join you. Do you ever run?"

Harry shook his head, not at all liking the direction this was going, "Not really...I used to have to run from my cou- well, from some muggle bullies but they mostly leave me alone now."

A predatory grin stretched across the man's face and the wizard's sinking feeling only grew, "Well...you do now."


June 30th, 1994

"Sir, this spell, 'Ignis Flagellum', it's a fire whip isn't it?" Harry asked the headmaster, receiving a trill from Fawkes as he reached up to pet the pheonix perched on his shoulder.

"Indeed it is, Harry, in fact it is one of the spells I intend to teach you how to cast in the coming weeks, should you continue your outstanding efforts. Is there something about it that interests you?"

The younger wizard frowned somewhat glancing back down at the page, "Sort of. It seems like the kind of spell that would be really useful if you could control it, but how do you avoid burning yourself?"

Dumbledore hummed softly and put his own book down before clasping his hands, "I suspect that it will be easier to show you than explain it, however I will attempt to do it justice. You recall our discussion on intent and willpower as well as how those two aspects of your magic both inform the usage of any given spell, yes?" He paused, waiting for his pupil to nod before continuing, "Well the fire whip is one of the most versatile of the combat focused spells I intend to teach you this summer, though its usefulness depends entirely on your mastery of those aspects. If you exercise your control well then you will never have to fear burning yourself or your allies with this spell. On the other hand if you attempt to use such spells without the will required to maintain that control then it would be quite a liability indeed."

Harry nodded in understanding, somewhat relieved at the answer, "So it isn't like fiendfyre then."

"As a matter of fact it was invented by the same witch that first called fiendfyre onto this plane, so in a way it is still related, but it has no will of its own if that is what you were concerned about." A soft chime sounded through Dumbledore's office, prompting Fawkes to abandon her perch for a more permanent one. "Ah, it looks like our time for today is up, Harry, but please remember that my door is always open to you if you ever have need of me."

"Thank you sir, I'll make sure to find you if I have questions." He replied as he started packing up his books, doing his best to ignore the burning sensation in his arms that came from trying to pick up anything heavier than a spoon after this physical training. The moment his bag was latched shut he made for the door, waiting just long enough to reach the bottom of the headmaster's staircase before taking off at a run for his next lesson with McGonagall. While the professor seemed somewhat less on edge as the summer rolled on he didn't relish the idea of testing her newfound pride in him by being late.


July 29th, 1994

Harry's lungs burned desperately for air as he squnited up at Tonks from his position in a ball at her feet while Shacklebolt roared at him from across the room, "GET UP, POTTER! How the hell are you going to fight dark wizards if you can't even beat a girl in a fist fight?!"

An insulted frown tugged at the younger auror's lips as she held up a hand to flip her partner off, "Hey, fuck off, Kingsley! You know that I can floor you in a fight just as easily." She shouted back over her shoulder before bending down to check on the teenager, "You doing alright, Harry?"

The boy who lived managed to look up at her, his vision blurred through the combination of sweat, pain, and his lack of glasses, "Y-yeah...I'm fine." He gasped out as he forcefully pushed himself onto his knees before accepting her help standing up, "J-just give me a second."

"You're wasting my time, Potter! I could be out saving lives right now instead of watching you get the shit beat out of you! Act like a real man and get back in the fight, unless you want to go back to having my partner braid your hair!? Do you want her to paint your nails for you too?"

Harry grit his teeth, trying desperately to keep from snapping back at the large man. It had been made clear to him by now that, as polite as Kingsley was to him outside of the context of their training, he was more than happy to rival Snape's bastardry within 'working hours'. Even so he was somewhat surprised to see Tonks' features hardened with her own anger, "Ignore him, Harry, he's just trying to get under your skin."

"Well it's working." He muttered back mutinously, having finally regained his breath, "How many more rounds do we have to do?"

"Last one, Harry, I promise. If you can land a couple of good hits on me then I'll let you skip the run and just do stretches."

"Easy for you to say, you don't have to fight yourself." The wizard retorted with as much humor as he could muster, drawing the barest hint of a smile from his sparring partner before they squared off against each other again.

Back at the end of term Harry had thought he was nearly overwhelmed with the workload that came with trying to balance the Hogwarts staff's expectations for his growth. Looking back now he realized that his training hadn't even really started until Tonks and Kingsley arrived and turned his life into a nonstop barrage of physical and magical exhaustion. For the last month and a half since the pair had showed up Harry had been expected to wake up no later than five o'clock and start his day with an eight kilometer run around the great lake, whether it was raining or not. After his run it was time for magical endurance and battle tactics training, taking the form of either continuous dueling or a simulated battle with a group of dark wizards until he couldn't fight anymore.

Usually by that time it was nearly eight and they took a short break to rest before starting physical exercises followed by hand to hand sparring. The latter consisted of two hours of getting his ass beat by Tonks or, if he was particularly unlucky, by the much less sympathetic Kingsley. Typically their matches ended near ten, giving him just enough time to take a shower and nurse his wounds before eating lunch. After that Harry was expected to move on to his academic curriculum which, as was to be expected, had only grown in its complexity as well. Recently Shacklebolt had floated the idea of having Harry go through another simulation right before dinner but Tonks had, for the moment at least, managed to convince the man that he wasn't ready for that kind of strain.

'Honestly, I don't think I could do this if it weren't for Tonks...she's helped me push through all of this since she got here. If it were just Shaklebolt I just might have lost it.' Harry mused before shaking his head and forcing himself to concentrate on making it through this final round. After taking a deep breath and clearing his mind he nodded to his teacher. "Ready..."

The pink haired auror directed a strained smile towards him before nodding back. Moments later the 'bang' of Kingsley's wand signaled the start of the match and Harry launched himself at his friend, intent on delivering his best left hook to her face. Tonks easily countered it and sent him reeling with her own pair of punches, though he did manage to duck under the third and throw out a hard kick that actually connected with her thigh, drawing a heavy grunt from her. "That's it, Potter, kick the shit out of her! Now get back in there and finish the job!"

The younger wizard consciously had to avoid biting his tongue at the continued shouting from the man. He knew from experience that repaying it in kind would end with him groaning on the floor just as surely as if he called Tonks by her given name. Even so it didn't stop him from using his anger to fuel his own flurry of punches, which managed to catch his friend in the chest and jaw. For a moment Harry thought he might actually have the upper hand until he realized, too late, that Tonks had allowed herself to be hit in order gain a better position. Before the wizard could try to counter her the auror drove her knee up into his diaphragm, sending him right back onto the matt where he'd been five minutes ago, gasping for breath while Shacklebolt shouted insults at him.


Half an hour later found Harry and Tonks sitting in the Gryffindor common room, sans Kingsley who opted to leave for the ministry, citing paperwork. Frankly the younger wizard didn't really care what the man did, as long as he kept away from him. "He's almost as bad as Snape when he's digging through my memories..."

A soft sigh escaped the auror's lips at the assessment of her partner's disposition, "I know you don't see it, Harry, but he's not always like this. He's actually really proud of the progress you've made in such a short time, if he didn't care then he wouldn't push you like this." She replied softly while running a comb through his still wet hair, "That's not to say he isn't being more of a jerk than he needs to though. I promise that I'll talk to him about toning it down."

The boy who lived had to resist the urge to shake his head as he watched Tonks in the mirror, "I don't want to cause you any problems, I'll just keep trying to ignore it. Sorry for complaining so much." He muttered, drawing a concerned look from his friend before changing the subject, "I really don't know how you manage to get my hair combed out like that. I've been trying to get it to work with me since I started school and it never stays put."

"Well part of that is because you were keeping it so short. When it's as short as you had it back in June it's harder to handle, unless you just don't care about how it looks. Now that you've got some length here you shouldn't have a problem with keeping it under control. I bet that you could even start braiding it on your own if you wanted to." She grinned and met his eyes in the mirror, "But then if you did that you wouldn't get to have a pretty lady playing with your hair, yeah?"

A dark blush burned its way across Harry's cheeks and he broke eye contact with her, "T-that's...well, I mean I've never really had long hair before so I don't know much about taking care of it. Whenever my aunt tried to cut it any shorter than it had been it would just grow back, accidental magic I guess, but I can't remember it ever growing any longer until..."

He trailed off, his thoughts drifting to the image of the girl in his cupboard that Snape had found in his memories, 'I don't know why but I can't forget about her. How come I never saw her? If she was in my memories, in my cupboard even, then I should remember her but I just...don't. I hope she's okay...'

The wizard was brought back to the present when Tonks tapped gently on his shoulder, "Harry, are you okay? You looked like you just completely spaced out there for a minute."

"Y-yeah, I'm fine." Harry lied, trying to force a reassuring smile across his face, "I'm just kind of tired is all, I'm sure I'll be okay after lunch."

"If you're sure...you know, I could talk to Dumbledore and see about getting you a day or two off each week. We could take a trip to Hogsmeade, or maybe even take you out to visit your friends."

For a moment Harry's heart swelled at the idea, it would be nice to have some time off, but he swiftly dispelled the idea. 'I'm already behind where I need to be in order to have any chance of fighting off Voldemort. If I start skipping training days then I'll never be ready.'

"Thanks, Tonks, but I promise, I'm okay. The chance to stay here and learn over the summer is an opportunity that lots of people will never have, so I want to make the most of it. If that means I'm worn out for a couple of months then that's a price I'm more than willing to pay."

A somewhat disappointed frown tugged at Tonks' lips but she nodded, "I admire your drive, Harry, I've met career aurors less motivated than you. Just...make sure that you don't burn yourself out before you hit your twenties, okay?"

"Well I'll try, but honestly I'm going to count it as a miracle if I just make it to my twenties." He rertorted, offering her a wry grin. "Besides, you're one to talk, you just stopped being a teenager and now you're lecturing me about life after Hogwarts?"

The witch rolled her mismatched eyes at her younger friend's ribbing, before gently tugging on his hair drawing a yelp from him, "Alright smart ass, how do you want me to braid your hair? French or Dutch?"