Chapter 1

"How did it get out?" Sirius was eerily calm and unnatural still. "I gave very explicit instructions that no one was to know."

"Right. Well it seems there was a leak." Jauques, the Canadian ministry official who had worked with Sirius Black for years and, more recently, his son Harry Potter, sipped his black espresso. A valiant unconcerned air about him.

"A leak? Really? No shit. How?"

"I'm not sure. He's not even enrolled under his real name."

"We can probably remedy that now Jocky," Harry said.

"Well of course! That will stop the rumors. Why didn't I think of that?"

"Dad, Please. We both knew this would cause a bit of a row." Harry fixed himself some Earl Grey and sat across from his godfather at their sturdy oak dinning table. The kitchen, like the rest of the house, was a testament to Sirius's personality. The house, or rather 'Spring Cottage', had been built in 1892 and was one of the oldest houses in Victoria. The Black family had bought it from Captain Charles Spring himself, though it had been a seldom used vacation home until Sirius needed a place to raise Harry away from curious eyes. The Blacks were a secretive family. No one from the UK had caught on to their wearabouts in the ten years since Sirius obliviated the Durleys upon gaining his freedom and ferreted Harry away on his flying motorbike.

When Sirius had moved in with Harry in toe, he laughed gleefully as he tossed all the hoighty-toighty Victorian era antiques into the yard and burnt it. All that remained was the oak table Harry had perched on to watch his new guardian ransack the place. Assuming the boy liked it, Sirius had let the table survive. All their current furnishings were jarringly modern.

"You were supposed to be 'safely' tucked away at that school before the fireworks." The quotes around safely were implied with a snort of derision.

"I've dealt with the press before."

"Not like this. In Canada, your story is a tragedy. In Britain, you're a national icon who was cruelly stolen away by the secret death eater, Sirius Black."

"Please. If anyone believes you're a death Eater they need to have their head examined."

"Believe it kid. The more prepared you are the better."

"Are you quite sure you won't reconsider Mr. Potter?" Jaques fiddled with his cufflinks. Tension left him in waves now that Sirius's quietly seething anger seemed diffused.

"I've got to deal with England eventually. Better they underestimate me than my going as an adult trying to press my agenda with the weight of my title alone." Harry fingered the house ring on his right ring finger. A griffin and stag bowed to each other in front of a star. The Potter house crest.

"Don't get all sensible on me." Sirius sighed with a hint too much drama to be entirely genuine and rubbed his temples. "Fine. Do what he says. Confirm all those yuppies' wildest hopes and dreams."

The rest of the week was spent preparing for school. He got all his required texts and equipment. Luckily, he had a space expanding charm on his suitcase. There were at least 50 books he couldn't bear to leave behind. Hogwarts was supposed to have an extensive library, but there were several rare books in both the Black and Potter family libraries that were far too few to be in some school. In fact several of them were banned by the British government and several more were probably entirely unheard of.

Besides ignoring letters from news companies and requests to floo into their house, Harry had one important task this summer. Going to Hogwarts to complete a competency qualifier

Sirius grumbled about them not trusting his parenting, but Harry knew the faculty were using school policy to get a look at him before there were other students there.

Tuesday, the week before classes began, Harry and Sirius apparated to the front gate and walked onto the grounds. As always, Harry marveled at how much easier solo apparating was on his stomach. He'd been of age for about six months, since he accepted his title and became a peer of the realm. His fathers ring, which Sirius had never worn despite holding the seat for the Potter family in the Wizengamot, sat heavily on his right hand.

Logically, he knew he would pass the qualifiers without using a tenth of his effort, skill, or considerable power; however, this was the first time a Potter had been in Hogwarts since his father and he desperately wanted to prove himself worthy of his family's reputation. The hype and expectations of the general public, in comparison, barely registered much less motivated him.

The pair got the fully intended intimidating view of the castle and surrounding grounds. The castle stood imposing and immovable. A testament to wizard hubris and belief in their own species' superiority, power, and immortality. To either side of the cliff that the castle crested, grass gave the picture a verdant frame. Behind the Castle, the still lake glistened in the afternoon sun. Surrounding it all was dark thick Forest.

Harry supposed the first years, with whom he would be sorted with next week, were taken in small canoes so they would be properly awed and inspired by the castle upon rounding the bend. Harry grimaced at the blatant manipulation. Someone who needed to resort to such parlor tricks, and with children of all people, was either clinging to power or blatantly overcompensating. Given the numerous dangers Harry was aware of, and had occasionally combatted unknown to the inhabitants, in Dumbledore's case it could very well be both.

They were greeted at the massive front doors by a chipper, if shabbily dressed house elf. It was clear that some effort had been put into uniforming the creature, however, the clothing was a size too large and had been patched repeatedly. the elf seemed proud of the uniform and had ironed the patchwork of tea-towels into a semblance of crispness. Harry shuddered knowing Hogwarts was known to have some of the best accomodations for house elves in Britain.

Many of the 47 Potter elves were refugees of very poor and even abusive conditions. He was 6 house elf families short of having a representative of every native British elf clans. So far, no one knew or had called him on what he was doing. He planned to keep it that way until he could move ahead with his plans to improve house elf rights.

"Welcome Lord Potter, Lord Black, to Hogwarts. I be Winky and here to take yous two masters to the Great Hall. Professorses and Mister Headmaster bes waiting for yous there."

"Thank you Winky, "Harry said, offering his hand to shake hers. Her eyes widened in shock and she chewed hard on her lower lip before working up the courage to take the wizard's hand. After she looked at her own palm in astonishment. "It would make me very happy if you would call me Harry."

"Oh no Sir. Winky would not be able to be doing that. Not be proper. Winky is a proper elf Lord Potter."

"Well I would very much like to be your friend, and it is proper for friends to call each other by their first names."

Winky's eyes grew even larger and she stood silently for several seconds. "Winky be trying Mr. Harry. Thank you. Other elves won't be believing Winky."

"Well, tell them to come ask me. I'd like to meet all the Hogwarts elves."

"Mr. Harry wants to be meeting MORE Hogwarts elves?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I believe its important to thank the people who take care of me. "Harry stood from where he'd crouched to talk to Winky, a concession that would normally send her reeling by itself. She mouthed the word 'people' with awe. "Now, best we don't keep them waiting."

"Of course not Lord Black, Mr. Harry. This way. Winky be showing you."

The Great Hall, being behind large wooden doors that looked like they'd need a team of horses to open or close off the right of the entrance hall, was not difficult to find.

Harry walked into the great hall with a stiff back, carefully blank expression, and raised chin. Saunter would be an apt description of how he carried himself in that moment. Here were nine people who needed to remem ber he was a Lord, no matter what he said to Sirius about wanting to be underestimated.

"May Winky be presenting Lord Harry Potter to Professors Firenze," Winky pointed to the centaur on the far left with a palomino body, pale blond hair, and star bright blue eyes.

"Flitwick," next in line to the right a barely 3 foot high white haired half goblin.

"Hagrid," a great hairy man with kind eyes and an uncertain smile.

"McGonagall," a stern, tight lipped middle aged woman with a secret smile for Harry behind her spectacled teal eyes. They'd been exchanging letters since Harry had been put under Sirius's custody, though as far as they knew, none of the other professors knew.

"Headmaster Dumbledore who has too many titles for poor Winky to remember," Dumbledore was a straight backed old man with a white beard past his mid drift, calculating water blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles, and fuschia robes standing dead center and a half step in front of the seated faculty.

"And professors Sprout" a plump, kindly woman with corkscrew greying hair more unruly than Harry's when it was sheared short, and dirt ingrained in to every wrinkle and crease.

"Babbling," the youngest of the represented staff with a no-nonsense auburn braid in front of her left shoulder, eyes the deep green shade of the forbidden forest, and a clever if reserved grin.

"Slughorn," a portly fellow preoccupied with the whine and cheese in front of him and dressed in the richest robes in the room.

"And Snape." Without the introduction, Harry could easily have picked Snape out of the lineup based solely on the mix of contempt, superiority, and pure hate staring out of those coal dark eyes. His nose was hooked, hair lank, and thin lips pulled into a sneer.

"Thank you Winky, "Harry said causing the elf to blush and shuffle her bare feet. With a nod from Dumbledore, Winky gave a deep curtsy, slightly more toward Harry than the staff, and popped away.

"Welcome to Hogwarts Harry." Dumbledore grinned widely, though Harry's eyebrows rose at the affected familiarity. For now, in front of every one of his future teachers, he let it pass. "I have been waiting to say so for entirely too long.

"The UK wasn't exactly safe for me until recently."

"My dear boy, why ever not? You took care of You-know- who nearly two years ago." Slughorn said.

"Yes professor. I killed him with the help of my coven and tossed what few remains there were through the veil. I would like to think that such a highly educated individual would be able to use Tom Riddles' name two years after his death." A collective wince ran through all the faculty besides Dumbledore, McGonagall, and surprisingly Snape. Hagrid jerked so hard his glass shattered against the stone floor. As Harry continued, a house elf with a broom popped in "or, at the very least, his silly made up moniker. You can't inadvertently summon him or his wrath. There's not even a shadow of him left. But to answer your question Sir, Lord Moldy still had many followers who were alive, free, and plenty motivated to take a shot at me." While Harry kept his eyes on Slughorn, he had excellent peripheral vision, which spied Snape's grip tighten on his armrests.

"Further, even now the media is in a frenzy about my return, and while that's not in and of itself life threatening, it is rather annoying. Last, and most concerning, there were rumblings, some from the ministry, that I was a dark wizard and should be imprisoned or killed. I'm still not sure whether that last has entirely abated, and the first two certainly haven't."

Slughorn only nodded. There was stunned, or perhaps contemplative silence for several moments.

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall, the only person in the room besides Sirius that Harry would have preferred call him by his first name, said, "why then, have you chosen to return now?"

Dumbledore's eyes flashed but he quickly schooled his expression back to mildly curious. Beside Harry, Sirius snorted.

"When I expressed my intention to take my NEWT in Defense Against the Dark Arts, there was a lot of hemming and hawing beforehand and a lot of questions about my education." He could practically hear Sirius grinding his teeth beside him. "I would like to forestall any future misguided assumptions."

"But surely, considering the unfortunate circumstances you mentioned, there are other schools."

"Minerva," Dumbledore snipped quietly.

"Returning to Britain was the furthest action from a whim I believe I have ever taken, Dumbledore. Questioning my motivation won't make me realize my folly and turn tail.

You're right Professor. However, Beaubatton is almost exclusively female and, while they assured me they would accept me, the scandal and hyper vigilant supervision it would entail do not make for a suitable learning environment. Durmstrang is run by a Death Eater."

"Ex-Death Eater," Snape said, his gaze cool. "He said he was under the imperius curse."

"If we believe everyone who claimed to be under that convenient curse, then Voldemort would be god, not a mortal. I may have an ego, professor, but not even I believe I could kill a god at 15. I also happen to know better than most that some marks are much more than a symbol.

A mark of loyalty and obedience, such as the Dark Mark, must be taken under one's own power. If he was not a willing participant at some point in time, had not committed a dark enough act of his own volition for Voldemort to test him, then the mark would have faded as soon as he was far enough away from his master."

Snapes' expression grew deadly dark, but Harry met his gaze levely.

"Unfortunately, outside of the UK, there is much less of a magical presence and the schools are even more lackadaisical."

"Even more, Mr. Potter?" Flitwick asked.

"Yes. Britain's NEWTS are, by a large margin, the least comprehensive of the UK."

"That is hardly a reflection of the school," Babbling challenged, though her expression remained neutral.

"On the contrary, 91% of British magicals attend or attended Hogwarts. If the school prepared them fully perhaps the exam would be more rigorous."

"I think," Sprout said before anyone else could speak, "that we should get on with the qualifiers. "Lots of work to be done yet before the students arrive next week."

"Right you are," Dumbledore said. "Would you like to go first my dear?"

Mom

So it began. Professor Sprout provided him with a quick written test about different properties and uses for various plants. Several of them he had seen in his prep for his OWL. None of them were overly difficult. Her eyebrows shot up when he finished in under a half hour. Without a word, she uncovered several plants for him to harvest and/or repot. He did so quickly and efficiently, knowing as he did that he would never truly excel with plants. He only hoped he could eke out enough skill to take his Interna tional Potions NEWT. There were several concoctions that required the brewer to work with plants for the freshest ingredients possible and others that needed to interact with the brewer's magical core.

Sprout smiled encouragement a few times and patted his shoulder once he'd finished.

Firenz went next. His test took the form of a lengthy and largely theoretical conversation, though he was thorough when questioning Harry's knowledge of the stars. With a nod to Harry and then the headmaster, Firenz clopped out of the hall.

McGonagall went next. Hers was the only test he knew what to expect. She had discussed it with him at length to make sure he was alright with it. Completing the test honestly meant giving the faculty a rather clear idea of his overall magical proficiency. Originally, he planned to do some middling transfiguration that would impress but not tip his hand. After meeting Dumbledore, he agreed with McGonagall that the respect gained from going all out would be worth giving away his strength.

"Conjure some wood for me, Mr. Potter." He conjured an oak stump in the middle of the room. It weighed approximately 150 pounds.

"Excellent. Now, I would like you to transfigure it into the most complex design you can manage. The more varied materials you can incorporate the better."

Harry had thought long and hard about his design. Initially he was going to make simple statues out of a few different stones, metals, and crystals. Enough to impress but not wow or show his true skill. Dumbledore and Snape had pissed him off to the point of changing his design on the fly. He concentrated for several minutes before getting to work. 15 minutes later, he stood back, slightly winded.

In the centre of the room a griffin and stag bowed to each other. The griffin's body was pale orange amber letting everyone see the coloured glass organs, tissues, and bones he'd created inside. The stag's body was primarily diamond, clear quarts, and cut glass to keep it transparent, yet textured like fur and worked into complex geometric designs he couldn't create with just one material to the same effect. Inside, he grew amyathists, cats eye, aquamarine, jade, ruby, sapphire, and various other coloured stones into anatomical replications of a stag's internal systems. Its antlers were a conflagration of different flowering fruit tree branches. Behind the two breathtakingly complex beasts sat a glowing multi hued star. The brilliant colours pulsed and fluctuated. On closer inspection, the star was filled with millions of iridescent fish catching and refracting the light of a cold flame burning in the water at the bottom of their unique tank.

The room was eerily silent. Even Snape forgot to look superior while investigating the spectacle.

"Jeez pup, "Sirius said, "was it wise to go that hard? I didn't even know you could do that."

"Wise? No. Satisfying? In the extreme," Harry whispered back, basking in the glow of Sirius's pride and Dumbledore's disbelief.

"Perhaps," Dumbledore spoke at long last, "we should resume the qualifiers tomorrow. Give young Mr. Potter a chance to recharge after this impressive display."

"With all due respect Sir, I'm far too busy. Today is the only time I have to come here until the school year begins. If I may have time for a quick snack, I'll be ready for the rest."

"I for one," Flitwick said, "refuse to believe that someone capable of creating that isn't able to complete the relatively simple charms I would test him for. Mr. Potter is welcome in my class."

"I reckon," Hagrid said, staring at the beasts' innards, "that he knows his magical creatures if he can make 'em that specific. 'E's welcome in Care of Magical Creatures." He flashed Harry another uncertain smile. Harry nodded.

"While I'll admit the fact that you transfigured that was an impressive display and the fact that it doesn't look like it will unravel for some time is even more still, runes are a precise and demanding discipline. I will be testing you after a short break," Babbling said.

"Potions are also different enough and I'm curious to see what you're capable of," Slughorn said.

"I will also be testing you Potter." Snape grinned.

"Perhaps I wasn't clear. I already have my NEWT in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"A Canadian," he sneered the word, "NEWT does not satisfy the British government."

"My International NEWT. I have no use for your remedial class." Harry's smile was pleasant enough, but energy crackled behind his eyes. The glee in Snape's gaze promised he'd rise to the challenge.

"That's quite the accomplishment my boy!" Slughorn intercepted and diffused the tension.

"That slimy little worm," Siris whispered, fury written all over his face. "I should-"

"Nothing. Do nothing. I have to live with these people." Harry picked at the biscuits and sipped at the black tea Winky had brought him. Sirius sat with him at one of the long tables which had been moved to the sides of the hall to make room for the qualifiers. "They have to respect me, and won't if I run to my Daddy to solve my problems."

"Snivellus is not capable of respect."

"Then he'll become well acquainted with the business end of my wand."

Sirius smirked. "I wish I could see his face when that happens. Yes, I do believe that particular delight would do this old dog some good."

Harry had the most fun with the runes qualifier. He took his time with the written portion, taking nearly 40 minutes to translate, interpret and discuss the theory behind several surprisingly complex runes.

The practical portion was where he really got to show off. Given what he'd accomplished in transfiguration with freedom, Babbling instructed him to create any safe runic array that used ingenuity and showed what he could do. He was given a sandbox to practice before using anything but the potion supplies to demonstrate.

Messing around with runes was something he often did in his spare time. One idea in particular had excited him for quite a while.

After 15 minutes, Harry pulled out his steele, a slab of enchanted charcoal for drawing magical runes, and wrote a moderately intricate array on the hem of his cloak. They flashed gold once he'd finish and then faded into the black cloth. The faculty looked on with interest, but nothing happened. With a grin, Harry wrote out a complex Japanese based runic array on one of the long tables. They glowed blue, the intensity ramping up as the wood groaned and cracked.

Abruptly, the runes faded and the wood split into thousands of evenly sized pieces. To the startled gasps of the faculty, the fragments formed into palm sized wooden birds in the air. Once they were all formed, they flocked together, did a lap of the room, and then all dived at Harry. With a grin, Harry activated his own array and shot into the air, easily dodging the birds. For a few minutes, he evaded the birds with twists, dives, and seeker's tricks for flare as he did.

Once he believed the teachers were properly wowed, he summoned the 10 birds with faint runes to him and immobilized the rest. In the air, Harry levitated the birds in a row to recreate his array, with deft motions, he altered two of the runes so the process reversed. All the birds stuck together to recreate the long table, though the wood grain had changed into a complex feather pattern. Harry landed smoothly to stunned silence broken by Flitwick's enthusiastic applause.

"Well done Harry," Dumbledore said. "I believe that table will have to belong to Ravenclaw from here out."

The potions qualifier passed without anything noteworthy happening. Slughorn gave ready praise and encouragement, which soured Snape's already bleak mood further. While not nearly as adept in potions as transfiguration or runes, Harry earned a spot in Slughorn's class, though whether by skill or reputation wasn't readily apparent to anyone. Despite Slughorn 5 praise, by the end of the final qualifier, Snape looked smug. The boy certainly hadn't inherited his mother's talent.

"Well then, "Harry said, clapping once."Thank you for your time today Professors, Headmaster."

"Harry, "Dumbledore called as father and son turned to leave. "You never told us which classes you'll be taking."

"All of them."

"Pardon?"

"I would like to take my international NEWTS by the end of the school year."

"All seven." Dumbledore stroked his beard. "That's quite a load for seventh year."

"I could teach DADA as well. I'm better qualified than Snape. Honestly, the need to come to an 'accredited' school to be respected astounds me."

"I'm plenty qualified, Potter, and am willing to show you just how badly you need the education."

"Well by all means, I'm certainly happy to oblige if I've hurt your delicate sensibilities."

Snape sneered and stood.

"Severus," Dumbledore warned, giving Snape pause.

"That's right. Listen to your master. He's the only reason you're not imprisoned or dead." Harry sneered.

"What are you doing pup," Sirius muttered. Harry however, replied just loudly for the approaching Snape to hear, but too quietly for the other faculty to make out.

"Proving that just because you're proficient at the Dark Arts, does not mean you should teach students how to protect themselves from them." Then in a whisper, "And giving you an early Christmas present."

"Severus, don't raise to the boy's taunts." Dumbledore beseeched. "He's only a child. One with a guardian that had no love for you."

With visible effort, Snape clenched his teeth and sat back down, back rigid.

"Huh," Harry said for Sirius alone. "I guess I'll have to buy you a toaster or something."

Without waiting to be dismissed, Harry and Sirius left the castle, grounds, and soon appeared in their manor with a faint pop from one and silence from the younger.

"Will you let that little puke strut around this school like he owns it? Like he's royalty." Snape had taken Dumbledore aside as the other faculty filed out of the hall.

"I have a strong suspicion that both are true, Severus. For one, you know as well as I that Potter has claimed his title. As the head of one of the Sacred Twenty Eight noble families, he is as close to royalty as our kind has. Plus, he has had nearly twice as many articles written about him in the past 17 years than any of the British muggles have written about their ruling class in the last fifty years. Second, and much more concerning, I believe Mr. Potter may be the Heir of Gryffindor. If those suspicions are confirmed this year, it may very well mean that he does own this castle." That last would certainly lessen any control Dumbledore could eke out of the boy and would hamper his plans.

"But his utter ungrounded arrogance!"

Dumbledore stared pointedly to where Harry's transfigured statues stood unchanged in the middle of the room. Dumbledore would have struggled to transfigure something with such precision and attention to detail. If he had managed it, the spell would have begun to revert to wood and fade away within about an hour. Harry's had stood twice that so far and didn't show any signs of weathering. When Dumbledore probed it, he found that the effect had been loosely connected to the hearthstone of the castle and sealed in a way he wasn't familiar with. With a frown, he realized the monument Harry had created in may grace the Great Hall for quite a while.

At Snape's reserved sigh, Dumbledore circumvented the irked professor and headed for the door.

Severus had a point, but was focused on the wrong details. Harry's confidence stood to be a minor issue, but the biggest problem was the defiance. If Dumbledore had succeeded in keeping Sirius Black incarcerated, the Boy Who Lived would have been made pliable under the Dursley muggles. He would have been so grateful to Dumbledore for taking him from those people, so awed by his power, that he would have made a loyal, almost devout pupil.

More importantly, he would have made the perfect weapon. Eventually, when the time was right, he would have made a historic martyr for Wizarding kind and a rallying point Dumbledore could use the memory of to further his cause.

Alas, Sirius had more connections than he'd known of. Connections such as Amelia Bones, the director of the Aurors and one of the few incorruptible officials in the Ministry. She'd unburied the Potters' last will and testament, a feat Dumbledore was still flummoxed over. When he wanted somethi ng buried, it might as well never have existed.

Not this time.

Amelia presented irrefutable proof of Blacks' innocence as well as the will which expressly stated the boy was under no circumstances to be put under the care of Petunia. Worse still, Sirius had full parental rights and was the first listed guardian. There were five others listed as back ups. Not unheard of during the war.

Dumbledore was not on the list and the magi cal guardianship he had assumed of Harry was immediately invalidated.

Sirius had clearly encouraged him to be his own person.

Yes. Dumbledore certainly had damage control to do this year.

"So tell me again about your plan to remain underestimated," Sirius said while flopping onto their white leather couch. Their living room was a little cramped, but the coloured glass windows sent multi-hued light scattered across the predominantly sleek white furniture. A flat TV took up the entire space above the mantle.

"I saw his smug self-satisfied face and the plan changed." Harry lounged in a recliner and accepted the tea Zaldey, an elderly male house If that had been with the Potter family before the war and one of the first Harry recovered when his magical core matured enough to bond them, offered.

"And it changed to...?"

"Showing him that I know he's a manipulative coot and, that I will not be his cog."

"Good."

They sipped tea in silence for a few minutes.

"So," Sirius said, "next week. Excited?"

"If anything, it'll be a tedious exercise in avoiding the over-excited yes-men wannabes."

"And if one of those floozies is her? Or him."

"Whatever magic is responsible for soulmate bonds wouldn't be cruel enough to pair me with someone I can't stand." When Harry turned eleven and was bemoaning not having friends, Sirius made a deal with him. He took him to the Ministry in France to see one of the books of bonds in exchange for him to stop begging to go to Hogwarts. Harry had relented. Ever since Sirius had told him that his parents were soulmates Harry longed to see if he too had a destined partner somewhere in the world.

Soulmates were rare and one of the most treasured bonds of the wizarding world. Once both parties fully accepted the bond their relationship deepened in some magical way unique to the couple. His parents had been able to talk telepathically to each other at will no matter the distance between them or the state of the others mind, such as unconscious or compelled.

His visit to the Book of Bonds had been among the most magical of this life. The air shimmered and pulsed with raw energy. There were three such books in existence, one controlled by the French, British, and Russian ministries. Each of them had been created by Merlin and recorded all types of magical bonds in the world. When Harry approached the book, which rested on a bronze pedestal in the middle of a dim empty room without windows and only torches for light, the book flipped open to a page.

Harry James Potter.

Familial bond forming with Hedwig, snowy owl.

Bonded to House Elves Zaldy, Cismy, and Poppy.

Soulmate bond pending. Partner to be found at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Scotland.

Upon request, the book made him a copy that he took with him. Even now it rested in its envelope in the left breast pocket of his robes and had updated itself with each new House Elf along with the fact that he had fully bonded to Hedwig. The only time it wasn't on his person was when he slept, as he loathed pajamas. Not even that felt secure enough. Multiple safety charms were placed on the parchment. No one could take or read the page. Several fail safes were built in to warn him if anyone tried to break his charms.

Rather than quell his desire, Harry became insistent that he attend Hogwarts. Every September they fought bitterly. Sirius made very logical arguments about the dangers that Voldemort and his followers posed. Dangers he couldn't protect him from if he was locked away under Dumbledore's manipulations.

Ultimately, he had to use the parent card.

Harry satisfied himself by dealing with the dangers that arose at Hogwarts yearly. He also assigned house elves to infiltrate the school elves and keep a closer eye on things.

This year was different. Not only was Harry of age now that he'd accepted his title, but it was the last year he could attend the school. Sirius hadn't tried too hard to convince him against going this year.

The only problem was that Harry had no idea who his soulmate was. The book only confirmed the match once both people stood before the book.

He had ten months to figure out who his soulmate was or risk them being lost to the arominity of the larger world.