She scowled at herself. She had spent the last ten days of her life staring at herself in the mirror. She wasn't in love with herself or anything like that, nor was she examining herself as if she was trying out a new diet. She was looking at herself with disappointment. Why the hell was she ever sorted in Gryffindor anyway? Just because she wasn't nervous putting on the hat means she's brave? She wasn't brave, not in the least. She fell in love with her best friend, and when he asked her about it, was she brave and strong and all the things a Gryffindor are? No. She was weak, scared, vulnerable, and she denied it. She supposed he believed her, because he looked generally thrilled about it. It would have crushed her, just like it did, but like every emotion he showed there was the infinite contradiction in his eyes; he was happy, his eyes sad. He was unmoved, his eyes angry. He was weak, his eyes strong. He was confident, his eyes full of doubt. It was an endless loop that could never be read. She had heard him muttering Cedric's name, Voldemort's, Sirius', Dumbledore's, all in his sleep. He was openly fighting the trances, but he was having no success. She doubted he even really tried his hardest to break out of them any longer. He was falling apart, and he would only let her watch. It was cruel torture, slow and deliberate. He knew he was hurting her, but he wouldn't try to stop it. Maybe mask it, but she still knew it was going on.

                After she had denied liking him, he went back to discussing books and school, but she couldn't look him in the face. She was so full of shame and humiliation, that it threatened to pour out of her eyes at any moment. Her recovery was slow, but she was beginning to accept, that if he really did like her, as small a chance as it was, she just ruined any chance she had with him.

                Hermione loved her parents. They always came in when she needed someone, and left when she needed time alone. They would only allow themselves a taste of "cavity central", as her father cautiously termed it. Only their tastes ended up finishing the cake before Hermione got any. She didn't mind. It gave her something to laugh at, and leverage if she ever wanted something from her parents, but that was rare. It was suddenly very odd for her parents to become addicted to sweets.

Rick had asked if she fought with Harry, and she couldn't really explain it. She said "there was a misunderstanding, and it created an awkward situation for awhile." He father, as wonderful as he was, knew to accept it, and help her get back on her emotions. So here she sat, staring into the mirror once again, tearing her mind apart, looking for anything to tell her who she was, who she is, and how Harry was involved. Her thoughts today, though, were just to be interrupted.

                "HERMIONE!?!?!?!?" Yelled a male voice from downstairs. Sensing danger, she grabbed her wand and ran to the artifacts room. Ronald Weasley's head, with flaming red hair was sitting in her fireplace. He smiled at her, and she managed a grin. He saw it was strained, but he would never understand people's emotions. "Wow, you look wonderful." A blatant lie. She was loosing sleep in her misery, not nearly as much as Harry was, but she was still loosing sleep.

                "What is it Ron?" she said concern and boredom creating a hollow voice.

                "You simply must come over, right now. We just got mully-collision with plugs and you have to see it!" She groaned quietly, not wanting her dislike of the idea to reach Ron's thick skull.

                "I'm not so sure…"

                "Go on dear. It'll be good for you to get out of the house. You've been locked in your room for days." Hermione took this opportunity to glare at her mother, but couldn't refuse saying she had better things to do. What was a mully-collision anyway? She turned back to Ron, he unease apparent on her face.

                "I'll be there in a few minutes Ron. Don't wait up for me." She finished grumbling, and went to collect some floo-powder. As she stepped through the flames, she couldn't help wondering what Harry was doing.

                She landed in the living room of the Burrow, the Weasley's home. Ron immediately hugged her. It was unusual for him to show any kind of intimate emotion, even when he was feeling it. The rest of the Weasleys didn't even see her come in. They were surrounding something in the corner of the room, jumping up and down and yelling back and forth. She gave Ron a quizzical look.

                "What is that?" She pointed blindly into the crowd.

                "Our brand new mully-collision."

                "What?"

                "Mully-collision. Every muggle has one." Ron led her into the swarm of Weasleys, until she squirmed to the middle of the mob and turned to slap Ron on the back of the head, a bit harder than she intended.

                "You raving moron. It's a television." He rubbed his head, annoyed by the lump forming.

                "That's what I said, isn't it?" She wanted to slap him again, but he brain told her otherwise. "We can't figure it out. Mum told me to ask you to help." Hermione saw that the chatter had stopped, and many eyes rested on her.

                "Fine." She groaned. There were countless pats on the back as most of the family departed, but Ron and Mr. Weasley stayed behind. Mr. Weasley was examining the controller, and they all stepped back looking a the box which showed only a white and black picture.

                "This is what the muggles spend hours looking at?" Ron stated dumbly unaware of it's true purpose. She sighed and examined the picture. Television were not difficult at all. It was obviously plugged it if it was on, but the antennae wasn't attached. She sighed and picked it up. "Is that a muggle wand?" She was too tired to explain.

                "Yes Ron, a muggle wand, but it doesn't do magic." He was visually confused by this, but supposed she would get into it later. Mr. Weasley watched everything she did closely. She put the antennae in it's little socket, and began to screw it in, when finally, Ron screamed. Not a loud girly scream, but a pure shock scream.

                "It's, it's alive!!!" Hermione and Mr. Weasley stepped back and looked at the screen. The picture was perfect, but there was no sound. The rest of the family came rushing in, and stood back, afraid of what would happen if they got too close. She walked over to Mr. Weasley, and made him hold the controller still.

                "These two buttons are the volume control. They make it louder and quieter. You press this one until it is loud enough, and this one to make it quieter. Try it." Mr. Weasley pressed and held one of the buttons. The family squealed as the number 0 popped up on the screen, and increased rapidly as the sound reflected it. He stopped, but too late. The voice of the newscaster was rattling the house. He pressed and held the other button, and the sound got significantly quieter. He turned to face his family, his happiness evident.

                "It works." The family cheered, and they all claimed seats on the sofas and armchairs, fighting for a good view. It was then that Hermione noticed other then the four Weasleys still attending Hogwarts, and Molly and Arthur, Percy and Charlie were also there. All of them had excitement written on their face. She tuned into the tele, following their examples and watched, uninterestedly.

                Breaking news this afternoon as a mad motorcyclist has been tearing through London at deadly speeds. More on that story, with Kyle Flanagan. Kyle?

                Thank you Gerald. We are currently in our channel four whirlybird approaching southern London. From the police reports we have gathered, a young man, assumed to be in his later teens or early twenties, was initially pursued for not having the correct identification on his American made  motorcycle. The police attempted to pull him over, and he tried to run from their grasps. He has done incredible things so far, proving his skill on such contraptions. The list is very long, including running two police car blockades, flying off of an overpass onto the street below and nearly crashing into countless people and buildings. As the wild goose chase rages through the city, many wonder who is this brute and why is he taking such desperate measures to avoid a simple violation. With every feat he has accomplished in avoiding being caught, he may be charged with up to twenty years and five thousand pounds in penalties. Here we are, and he should be…

THERE, on Streatham High Road. We have a visual. Wow. He does move fast!!! Look at that. He barely misses hitting that blue sedan. It looks like they may get him, as he approaches he busy intersection. One car in front of him, but countless crossing. There is no way he can safely weave through…he's slowing down, take a look at that yellow dragon on his jacket, is that a new gang? We'll have to look into that later.

                Yes, here come the police in close pursuit, I believe his shenanigans have come to an end, he seems to be looking for something. THERE HE GOES. WHAT A BLOODY LUNATIC! HE'S GOING TO GET HIMSELF KILLED (the figure on the television raced at the two cars stopped at the intersection at extreme speeds) OH BUGGER!!! (The motorcyclist held out what looked like a small wedge shaped block, similar to the ones used to stop cars from rolling away. The man dropped it directly in front of his motorbike and flew up into the air at a sharp incline} MY LORD!!! GERALD! DID YOU BLOODY SEE THAT? THAT WAS ABSURD! HE JUST FLEW OVER A CAR AND FOUR BLOODY LANES OF TRAFFIC! HE'S MAD, BLIMEY AND I LOVE IT! WHO IS THIS GUY?(he landed with the sound of banging metal on the other side of the intersection.)

                Yes, Kyle, we saw that, stupid really, he could have gotten himself…

                LOOK, FOLKS, THE POLICE ARE STUCK ON THE OTHER SIDE. WHAT AN INTELLIGENT MOVE (Hermione snorted at this) WE ARE NOW FOLLOWING HIM FROM THE AIR. THE CLEVER BUGGER IS NOW IN THE OPEN, WITH NO POLICE…AH HA, THE POLICE WHIRLYBIRD HAS ARRIVED, HE'LL HAVE A HELL OF A TIME GETTING AWAY NOW…

                Kyle, word has just come in from administration, you are reminded that you are on live television, watch your tongue.

                Absolutely amazing. I've never seen anything like it in twelve years in this bird. The police are keeping close tabs, as we follow down this highway at nearly two hundred kilometers an hour. There is no way he can outrun the helicopter, he is as good as caught, we'll take this opportunity to try to get a closer shot of his face. (The camera zoomed in on the jacket, and his black hair reminded her vaguely of Harry's, but this guy had a bit of facial hair, and would not benefit the camera with his face.)

                "Wait!!!" screamed Ron "I know that road, I flew over it when I got lost on a broomstick near the paddock. They're really close."

                "Excellent!" chorused Fred and George, loving the muggle troublemaker.

                (The camera stayed closely fixated on the motorcyclist, who was lazily being pursued by the police helicopter. The road had become clear of all traffic except for the occasional freaked out driver, scared by the speeding bike and following helicopters. The hand of the rider pulled a small lever, and a red button labeled N2O. Hermione recognized it as Nitrous Oxide, or laughing gas. Her parents used it as an anesthetic. She couldn't figure out why it was on this guy's motorcycle. Maybe she would aske Harry about it another time. It would give them something to talk about. The figure waved to the camera before firmly pushing the button. The effects were instantaneous. The rear wheel began spinning wildly, propelling the bike forward with incredible power. Hermione figured it must have been a joke. Laughing gas, he was laughing at his pursuers. So simple, she grinned at herself. Being smart was fun sometimes. Everyone in the room watched sadly as the motorcycle pulled out of sight before the helicopter could catch up) CAN YOU BELIEVE IT. HE JUST OUTRAN A WHIRLYBIRD. WHAT WAS THAT?

                The family went back to chatting over the incident, as the camera went back to the newsroom and continued on other things. Ron came next to her on the floor grinning like an idiot.

                "Is it always like that? It is always so much fun?" She smiled at him. It really was a good first experience. She even found it entertaining, and she really didn't like television so much.

                "Unfortunately no, it is rarely like that, but you were lucky to see it. It was pretty amazing and pretty stupid at the same time." Ron was still looking at the box, wanting to see more. They were showing some replays of the man's stunts, as the police continued to search for the person. Knock, knock. Someone was at the door. Ron got up and bolted to get it, Hermione, not having anything better to do followed, she stopped in the doorframe of the living room, looking back into the room, at the smiling and happy family. She heard Ron open the door.

                "Well I'll be buggered. Harry, what are you doing here?" She was not expecting this, and froze. She wasn't up to facing him down. She had lied to him, let him down, let Gryffindor down, and she couldn't face him yet.

                "Hey, ah, everything's ok, but I'm being followed, do you mind if I stay here a bit, catch my breath?"

                "Sure, sure. HEY EVERYBODY HARRY'S HERE!!!" A parade of Weasleys took their turn greeting Harry, and escorting him into the hall. Finally, the crowd dissipated, and he saw Hermione standing and looking at him.

                "Don't I get a hello?" He said sulkily, his acting was getting better. She smiled at his antics and approached him, examining him for the first time since he arrived. She froze, and turned very white. On instinct, Harry whipped out his wand and looked at the door, which was closed and secure, no one was there. He glanced back to her. "What's wrong?"

                "Where (breath) did you (breath) get that jacket?" He looked at her curiously, and spun around like he was on a runway.

                "You don't like it? I bought the leather jacket, and put the dragon on myself. I thought it looked nice." She couldn't stop herself. By this time all the Weasleys were standing nearby, curious at the events. They all saw Hermione slap Harry, before banging her fists on his chest. They all looked on in shock. Harry got a red mark on his cheek for the slap, and let her bang his chest. It didn't hurt, and he shot a questioning look to Ron who shrugged, as he tried to hold back a grin. Hermione beating up Harry was funny stuff. Harry finally caught her wrists, and stepped back from her, looking into her teary eyes.

                "What's wrong?" He asked softly, but everyone heard in the silence. She was moving her jaw looking for the right words, to fit her anger. "What is it?" He asked again.

                "The Weasley's just got a tele." He smiled faintly, and looked over at them. They were just as puzzled as he was.

                "Oh. That's great!" He said with artificial enthusiasm. He looked back at her and she continued.

                "We saw your jacket." He grinned again.

                "Oh?" She looked at him with pure frustration. His face went white in realization. "Oh. Oh, oh. That wasn't me, it was someone else, I, mine isn't even ready yet, and my motorcycle can't do that, and you heard them, he was like twenty. I'm much younger than that and, and…" she wasn't buying it, and he saw the glitch in his plan to get away. He wasn't expecting anyone he knew to know it was him. "You're not going to tell Sirius are you? You can kill me all you want, just don't tell Sirius, please?"

                "Sirius? Sirius Black? The one who…" began Percy.

                "He's innocent! It was Pettigrew who was the secret keeper" roared Ron. He was angry with Fudge's accusations of Sirius.

                "What are you talking about?" Percy asked, eager to be the one to capture Sirius. Maybe, get a promotion.

                "I'll explain it all to you later, Percy. You won't tell him though, will you Hermione?"

                "No." She spat with venom. He wasn't going to get off easily this time. He hugged her warmly, and she felt her emotional roller coaster begin to become unsteady.

                "Thank you, you're wonderful." He pulled away, with an unsure smile. "Mr. Weasley, do you mind if I use your garage for a little while?"

                "No, no Harry. Go on, you can use it. I want to get more familiar with the bully-vision, anyways. You can use anything I have in there."

                "Thank you sir." Harry said, and walked out of the house slowly, amidst stares from the Weasley clan. As soon as he left, pandemonium broke loose. Fred, George, Percy and Charlie began demanding to know where Sirius was, and why they (Ron, Hermione and Harry} were associating with him. Mr. And Mrs. Weasley and Ron all demanded to know about the motorcycle, and if it was really Harry on it. For ten minutes the loud bantering went on.

                "QUIET!!!" a shrill voice screamed over the noise. Silence immediately fell. "Ron, tell everyone everything about Sirius. I need to talk to Harry." She turned and stormed out of the house, and straight to the garage. She saw the faded white shingles and the door on red rusty hinges. She threw the door open and looked around. Harry had a motorcycle in front of him, and he was tinkering with some of the pieces. His jacket was cast messily on a nearby chair, and Harry didn't look up at her.

                "Look, Hermione, I'm sorry I did that, I truly am. But if I was caught it would have been hell. I would have been kicked out of the Dursley's and probably prosecuted. It was necessary."

                "So killing yourself is justifiable to avoid a bloody ticket?" She never cursed. Never ever.

                "I wasn't going to kill myself."

                "Oh no! The great Harry Potter is invincible. Just because you can duel the dark lord, doesn't mean a bleeding car won't kill you instead. Do you have any idea how stupid that was? What would you have done if something happened to you? What would I have done. Your so bloody selfish. Don't you care that people care about you. That they look up to you. And you throw your life away, wanting everyone to pity you…"

                "SHUT UP!!! Don't you ever get tired of your own voice. 'Do you have any idea how stupid that was'" he mocked in a high pitched voice. "I don't care about anyone who looks up to me. If they need me to look up to, then they are sad excuses for wizards. It would be better for everyone if no one cared about me. You think I want your pity. Go and put it somewhere else. Go and pity Voldemort, he'd get a kick out of it. Just leave me the fuck alone. I don't need your sympathy. I don't want you fussing over me. Maybe if I wrote it in a book you would understand. FUCK OFF!" He grabbed his bike, which had miraculously changed colors, and strode out to the door, pulling the piece of machinery with him.

                "No, no, no. Harry I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Harry, no. Don't go. Please. I take it all back. Don't go. I didn't mean it. Please! Harry, PLEASE!" She yelled as he started the engine. It roared to life, he turned back to her, his face contorted in bitter resolve.

                "Forget everything you ever thought you knew about me." He gunned the engine, and in a cloud of smoke and dust, he disappeared.

                Something in her snapped. Weeks of repressed emotions flooded her eyes, and the salty warmth streamed down her face. She fell onto her bum, and pulled her knees up to her chin. She watched him go, and hid her face. Why couldn't she just hold down her anger? Why couldn't she just let him be? Why did she have to make him hate her? Why? The word echoed in her head, continuously tearing at her. She couldn't understand it. He had just shouted at her. He was never one to shout at her. Even when he was furious, he never used that language. She was too busy crying to notice Ginny and Ron come outside looking for her. It didn't take very long.

/\/ /\/ /\/ /\/ /\/ /\/ /\/ /\/

                Harry wiped away the tears as he sped away. They blurred his vision, causing him to swerve dangerously at the high speeds. He didn't know what made him do it, but her nosiness was making him go mad. She was driving him, wild, trying to make himself seem presentable to her, to be accepted by her, to fit her high expectations for him. He hated everyone's expectations of him, and he took it out on her. She just…just had such an emotional grasp on him, it was hard for him to contain his feelings. He wanted to tell her everything, to get it over with, but she would go to books for answers. He was sure he' been through every book in the world, and they didn't help. She would, of course never give up looking in books. He didn't need a book. He needed someone to listen.

                Sure, people had said they would give him their ears, but only because it was the polite thing to do. Dumbledore was a great man, in every aspect, but he wasn't the type to get emotional with. He was a shoulder to cry on, but Harry couldn't see himself discussing the inner conflict he had inside. It was like being stuck between a fjord and the sea, being thrown from one to the other, slowly accumulating emotional scars that were restricting his thoughts and sanity. Ron was never one to get emotional with, and he was uncomfortable around Hermione. She said she didn't like him that way, and he believed her, but she was hiding something. He needed a father. All this time without parents he was fine. He could don anything he really wanted or needed, but now, he only needed someone to talk to. He needed a father. Alas, the cards of life dealt to him left that out, so what was he to do? He could get a shrink, but they just take your money and have you spend hours pouring your mind out. He needed interaction. Someone who had experience, and was understanding. Someone who would save him, rather than expect him to save the world.

                When it came down to it, was the world worth saving. The countless tears of the dead from resisting, both muggle and magical. Why couldn't they just hand the world to Voldemort, on the promise that he would not kill everyone, of torture them. Why did they have to fight at all. There really was not a good or evil. The good did evil things, and the evil did good. The was no in the middle. But there should be. If a morally perfect person kills someone and runs away, are they good or evil? Both. The world was only giving two shades of the spectrum, and it was frustrating. Why did Harry have to be good? Why did he have to be perfect? The fucking role model of the world? Why was he selected for something he didn't want. What if he wanted to be gray? What was wrong with being both good and evil, or neither? Why couldn't he be like the average person, a little bit of each? Why the fuck was everything black and white? What moron…

                BEEEEEP "HEY ASSHOLE, WATCH WHERE IN BLOODY HELL YOUR GOING!!!" Harry woke from his trance and thought-like state and righted his bike, which had been shifting into the right side of the street, into oncoming traffic. He waved in apology to the guy in his small Japanese car. Or was it Korean? Harry really didn't care. He didn't car about much anymore. In the end, what was the effort worth? All the struggling, all the work. And where did it take you? It was pointless and redundant. He sighed and kept going. It was a short way longer to Surrey, and he wanted to get home. Put a barrier on his floo. He knew that Hermione would come through that way, and he wanted her to hate him. Not that he really wanted it, but it would be best for everyone, if he had no friends. He couldn't confide in them anyway. Honestly, he knew he had no friends. Hermione was just a know-it-all bookworm who needed people around her to correct and tell her that she's smart, and Ron didn't even trust Harry. That was more evident than bloody on the knife. Ron just clung to Harry to get a piece of the glory. Maybe if Harry wasn't there he would get the glory. Harry wouldn't be there to shine over him, make him look bad. Everyone would just be able to get on with their lives, and they would be happier because of it. He was a mistake, he probably shouldn't have been born, or maybe he should have been aborted. Saved from the pain. He should have died long ago, so what was he waiting for? It was going to happen sooner or later. Why did he run from Voldemort in the graveyard? He wasn't scared. He was in pain and tired, sop he ran. He really was a coward. So he brought Cedric's body back. Some accomplishment. He should have stayed, shot a couple good hexes, and died. No one would be the worse. He would be dead, happy with his parents, if there was a god, and he couldn't be blamed by everyone for Cedric's death. He knew everyone thought that. Ron even thought that. It wasn't hard to see. The only reason they didn't say it were either because Dumbledore said not to, or because they feared Harry would killed them too. Maybe he would. Maybe he should. It was too difficult to be the perfect person. How Dumbledore did it he didn't know, and again he didn't care. It was bound to require effort, and for what? He would die anyway. Voldemort tried so many times before, that he was going to get it right ultimately. There was no telling when, but it had to be soon. Actually it would be great if it was soon. Get him the free ride into heaven, if there was one. And if there wasn't…………………too bad. He would deal with it then. Procrastinate, it was the way everyone else lived.

                He turned the corner onto Privet Drive and pulled into the driveway. He looked around, checked to see that no one was looking, and stepped off. He turned off the motor, and shrunk the bike to the size of a small toy car. He slid it into his pocket, and turned to go up the walkway to the front door. He heard the soft clink of wood on asphalt, and turned quickly, but no one was nearby, muggle or otherwise he turned back to the house slowly, anger, frustration and rage building up inside of him, going on a whim, he turned again sharply while whipping his wand into his hand.

                "STUPEFY" He screamed. Instead of a beam of light, as the usual for such a charm, his wand shook violently for a second, and became hot. A cloud formed quickly at the tip, becoming the size of a small hippopotamus, before it flew quickly, however slower than usual, at the shrubs on the other side of the driveway. The cloud split into two and disappeared, followed by two dull thuds on the driveway. There was a rattling inside the house, and Uncle Vernon threw open the door. He saw Harry with his wand drawn, pointed at his shrubs.

                "What just happened?" Harry didn't answer him. He just walked to the asphalt tapping his feet tentatively before he placed them. When he was halfway to the shrubs, he kicked something. His Uncle had exited the house and was watching with interest. Harry got on his knees, and felt what he was looking for. A soft light cloth. He felt the body underneath it, and trailed his hand up to the invisible head. With a quick jerk the cloth came off revealing a body wearing plain black robes, with no identification. Harry wanted very much to get rid of this person, but decided to let them explain themselves first. Might get some information.

                "OH BLOODY HELL! YOU KILLED HIM!" Harry turned to see a white faced uncle.

                "No, I just rendered him unconscious. He'll be fine, he's even breathing." His uncle approached the body slowly, but stumbled over an unseen obstacle. Harry jumped up, leaving the person lying on the driveway to where his uncle had walked, and found another body hidden under what he guessed to be another invisibility cloak. He grabbed near the head and whipped it off. He was able to easily recognized this face. Alastor Moody, along with another man were laying in his driveway. Harry heard feet running in their direction. He turned to his uncle and looked at him with resolve.

                "Don't move, and don't make a noise, you'll be invisible a while." Harry took one of the cloaks and put it on his uncle, before doing the same to himself. In no less than five seconds, two wizards with wands drawn were standing on the driveway and looked around. They saw the two people on the driveway and the one who seemed to be the authority figure grabbed the other's arm.

                "Look, be very quiet, and make sure Harry's alright, I'll check on these two." The second man walked slowly, in a crouched position directly towards Harry, and in turn, the front door. His wand vulnerably held in front of him. This paved the way for opportunity. Harry, in one fluid movement, use his left hand to take off his cloak, while grabbing the wand out of the hand of the wizard. He dove in front of the man while firing "Stupefy" at the wizard who was ready to wake Moody. The man slumped on top of him and Harry held his wand at the second wizard, who had tripped on Harry and was struggling with his robe to get up. Harry murmured another "Stupefy" and he stopped struggling with the garment. Harry collected all of their wands and looked around and saw Moody's magical eye glancing around unsurely.

                "Mobilicorpus" Harry muttered while swinging his wand towards Moody, and he said it again while flicking his left arm with one of the wands he'd taken from one of the other people. Moody and another hovered a little bit in the air, inches from the ground. "Uncle Vernon, can you help me get these two…" he nodded at the two left on the ground "into the house." Uncle Vernon quickly grabbed an arm each, and pulled the two men into the house, just as Harry came down the stairs. "I can take them from here."

                "Y-You're not going to…kill them are you?"

                "No, god no. I just need to ask them a few painless questions, before I send them home. Thanks for helping me get them in, oh, and can I have the ah, cloak back?" Vernon looked at himself in the mirror and gasped. He wasn't there. He took the cloak off and gasped as he appeared.

                "Bloody amazing." He mumbled as he reluctantly handed it back to Harry. Harry accepted it, and went back to his room where he closed the door. The four figures were all chained to their own chairs. Harry smiled as he saw Moody's eye follow him. Harry went about his business, neatening up, eating and reading for half an hour, before waking them up. He saw the shock on their faces, and a smile on Moody's.

                "Damn Potter, gave us all quite a scare. Thought yeh would forget to watch yer back. Your were able to take down four highly trained aurors, how's it feel?"

                "It was nothing special, you guys are easy."

                "Wasn't expecting ya to be so quick with yer piece. Coulda poked out an eye with that. You better go see Olivander, git yer wand checked."

                "Why's that?"

                "You just went through a magical zenith, I'd assume."

                "So?"

                "You should pay more attention in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potter. If that happened against Voldemort (the three other aurors cringed) you'd be dead. What happened is you put too much magic into yer wand, and it coulda burned up, exploded, and what not, but you kept control and finished the spell. Hell of a powerful one too. Think my head is gunna ache for weeks. Very well done though, you were on the ball, expecting anything, and I assume were tied up because yeh want to punish us for watching over ya, before we get to go."

                "In a way. Think about it as an inquisition. I ask questions, you give answers, or you don't eat."

                "Whatta ya want to know?"

                "Nuh uhhh. I got a fresh supply of Veritaserum, and were going to play a little game of truth or dare. Just no dares are allowed."

                "Potter, this is breaking countless magical laws. I'd hate to get you in shit with the ministry." Harry laughed, a hollow cruel laugh.

                "Good one, I have more shit with the Ministry than they like to admit. Fudge wants me silenced. Have you heard, petitioning to have me sent to St. Mungos Insane Ward. You can't trace my Veritaserum anyway."

                "Yes I can, I can trace all important potions." Growled Moody, loosing his patience with Harry. Harry leaned in so his mouth was right near Moody's ear.

                "Not when you don't have the location of production on your places to search." Moody knew what this meant, Harry was making his own. His eye searched the room tirelessly. His wardrobe and closet only had clothes, his trunk had his school things, everything was in perfect shape. Something was wrong.

                "Harry, if you mess it up, it will poison us. Then you'll have to face murder charges."

                "It's fine, I assure you. It is tested and maybe a little strong, but very effective. It'll be fun. We'll start with you here." Harry approached the one who seemed to be on the bottom of the pecking order. He was a young man, who looked to be in his early twenties. He had blond hair that stuck straight up, and warm gray eyes.

                "I-I-I won't drink it." He said, much less resolutely then he meant.

                "Oh, you won't will you?" Harry had the potion bottle in his hand, so the man only shook his head no. "Too bad." A knife appeared in Harry's hand, and it was driver into the man's upper arm, as the man opened his mouth to scream, Harry let a few drops into the man's mouth, and the knife disappeared, along with the wizard's pain. "First question, why are you here?"

Thank you Everybody. I have a few things that require your attention. I have a few good ideas for other fan fiction stories, and I want to write them. The only question I have is, would you like me to start on another story, and continue this one, or just work on this one. It is all up to you guys, if you decide to tell me.

I want some stories to review. If you wrote a story, just mention it and I'll read and review it. Don't be shy. I'd love to do it.

Harry on motorcycle bit up there^, probably very unrealistic, but hey, I was bored and needed some excitement. I will try to stay real though.

I love you all! Keep reviewing. I was a little disappointed in the 7 reviews I got for chapter 13, but considering what I did on 12, I suppose I deserved it. Review if you like, I hope you will. Thanks Everyone. Happy reading.