Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter. If I did I would make him a 23 year old hippy with a goatee, named Jack Mehoff. Aren't you glad I'm poor and have no access to a publishing company?

AN- *sighs* Take a deep breath folks. I'm gonna have to dig to the serious *boos*, deep, *strikes a pose* dramatic *sniggers*, side of me (even though I buried it in heaps of whip cream and corn chips ages ago)…digging…digging…digging…*smack* Aye! I think I hit something...Still can't do it…I gotta prep myself *someone throws a copy of Flowers in the Attic at my head*…That did it.

Silence was never an issue  nor a privilege, at the Potter Mansion and despite the mansion's extravagant and capacious size, it was virtually impossible to ever feel isolated or crave the presence of another being, and that was when there had been only five people under the extensive roof.

And even when there were tons, probably hundreds of people, couples, families, celebrating, and merrymaking within the dank walls of that grand mansion, sixteen-year-old Natalie Potter had never felt lonelier, or colder, as a matter of fact, even odder, was the fact she was currently in the presence of James Potter, her joyous brother who had once gazed upon her so fondly it could make her heart swell in the deadliest of times. Now however, James couldn't bare to look at her, so he remained frozen, cringing down towards his feet, the heat of immense hate overtaking him and causing stinging tears to swell in the creases of his cold eyes.

The room, James' bedroom, seemed to adopt an eerily dull gray aurora, deeply in contrast to the usually warm vivid colors that seem to radiate off of James himself. A condensed silence filtered through the air, afflicting not just Natalie's ears, but deep within her heart as well, like nothing she had ever experienced before. She could finally take it no longer, she let out a meek, anguished cry and turned back to face James, making sure to shield her bare arm with a torn shred of her elegant dress sleeve. To her immense surprise, as well as her deep despair, he was silently weeping, allowing his tears to flow freely down his blanched face, landing onto the carpet with a seemingly thunderous effect.

"…James…James, say something…please…" Natalie whimpered, her frail voice barely above a whisper. James' vulnerable frame winced against ever word, as if he were literally being scorched.

"What…is there to say…?" James sputtered out hesitantly, jerkily swiping away his tears onto his well-groomed velvet dress robes Natalie herself had picked out for him, "What exactly is there to bloody say?!" He raged on between a clenched jaw in such a fierce manner it shook Natalie down to the core of her fragile body and she took a few unsteady steps backwards.

Upon hearing her brother use this harsh tone with her for the first time, it was a gross understatement to say that Natalie was shocked in the least. This wasn't the tone he used towards her, his dearest Natalie, this was his tone respectively reserved for villains, and 'evil' Slytherins who had wronged him…though, she doubted James saw much of a difference between those wicked things and her now. Natalie didn't manage to recoil far enough from James though, as he clutched desperately onto her shoulder, nearly ripping away the dainty spaghetti straps of her elegant gown.

"James-no!" She whimpered helplessly, grimacing out of pain as James discounted her feeble please.

"How dare you bring that into this house? You-you-harlot! A blood traitor of the worst! Is that what it's been about? All this time?! You and-and him?! A Death Eater" James roared ravenously causing Natalie's body to quake with an ailing mixture of guilt and utter terror.

"No! It wasn't always like that, James, please listen-I'm begging you-" Natalie attempted to plea with him once more, her tears flowing as fiercely and freely as James'.

"I will not hear it! I-I should've listened to Sirius…he warned me about you…and him…I didn't want to see it…didn't want to believe my own sister, my own flesh and blood would-could be…" moaned James, exasperatedly, not bothering to hold back his tears of rage and bitter hatred, though most of all, they were tears of remorse.

"James if you would just-" Natalie's wailing pleas were cut short by James, who silenced her, the entire room, and what seemed to be the entire house, when he drew back his hand, as if in slow motion.

He struck her square in her pallid cheek at lightning speed, surprising her to say the least, causing her to stumble backward warily for a moment before crashing down onto the bed, striking the back of her head, hard onto a nearby bedpost. She sprawled out across James' bed, her once radiant chestnut curly locks steadily becoming soaked as her crimson blood gradually seeped from her wound. James, panting heavily and still full of unbent rage, readily pounced atop of her, delivering a crushing sensation along her torso from underneath the pressure of James' weight.

Natalie sobbed helplessly along with James as he took time to wrap one of his calloused hands around her bruise-ridden neck, while the other manically fumbled with the many layers of frilly skirts beneath her robes.

"How can you? James, I love you, please don't do this to me-"

James halted his wicked actions for a brief moment, and met his steely, reprimanding eyes with those pleading lightly tinted hazel eyes of his struggling sister, the one he had grew up caring for, nurturing…loving and responded in the harshest and coldest of voices.

"Stop, it! Atop with the lies! I-I hate you! You don't deserve to bear the Potter name, traitor…I have no sister…!"

A soft, pale, stream of light flowed through the drawn drapes, igniting the shady though dank environment of the bedroom that had served James Potter as a youth, and was now serving as a temporary room for his son, Harry, a sight James, Lily, nor his parents would've thought they'd live to see, because of serious circumstances involving Harry and the danger of the wizarding world.

Harry Potter shot up panting desperately for air in a harassed manner, from his bed, his father's bed, the same bed where the hideous scene he had just witnessed in his dream had occurred…at least, he thought it did.

"Harry…wake up oh, hairy one…" Harry listened in as a soothing voice called out to him, stroking his long, unkempt hair idly from behind, so he could not spot the person. It was the sudden feel of the unknown being that sent a shock wave into Harry's system, causing him to squeal abruptly and leap off of the bed.

Harry tumbled onto the floor thrashing wildly in a tangled mass of comforters and quilts.  He gazed around wildly, temporarily forgetting his new surroundings under their new circumstances. Unhinged cackling sent his head whirring back around to his bed, where a familiar gangly red head made himself visible.

"Ethan!" Harry exclaimed in immense exasperation, half relieved that it was only his uncanny little brother that had decided to disturb him.  He sighed deeply, ignoring his brother's hyena-like fits of laughter, though his facial features adopted a more aggravated, furious expression as realization of the situation dawned on him. In the blink of an eye, Harry had pounced back onto the bed and clutched Ethan by his bony shoulders, and shook him violently, ceasing his uproarious laughter.

"What are you doing in here?" Harry demanded fiercely as his brother struggled to free himself from his tightening grasp.

"…Er…I'm being harassed by a filthy behemoth…and you?" Ethan answered unsurely, stroking back his hair unconsciously as Harry proceeded to rough him up some more, demonstrating his feelings towards the unsatisfactory answer.

"I mean…I was-I was-Hey! Hands off the merchandise kid, its worth more than you'd imagine!" Ethan commanded, managing to shake himself free as he regained his composure with mock dignity. "Now, as I was saying…the house-elves, our house elves, can you believe it? Anyway, they suggested that I relocate myself if they planned to get breakfast on the table this year."

"…Let me get this straight…you were kicked out by a bunch of wrinkly midgets named after crap 80's pop stars?"

"You make being named after a crap 80's pop star sound like a bad thing-I mean-No! They merely suggested that I take my business elsewhere." Ethan stated slowly, as if the idea of anyone not wanting his company was absolutely ludicrous, when, in reality nothing could be farther from that idea.

"…You scared the…crap out of me…" Harry sighed out of relief, carefully taking time to choose his word, knowing what would happen if his mother caught wind of him using profanity, not that it mattered t him at the moment though. Just because his parents had forced him into conversation last night he still wasn't speaking to them…for…the, Er, principle of things, he figured in the wisest manner he could muster.

"Eww…" Ethan moaned, scrunching up his face in immense grotesque, "Well…shall I send up a house-elf, then?"

"You idiot, not literally-" Harry started to say, thrusting his brother into the light as to catch more than a fleeting glimpse of him. Harry stared on sppechless, clearly puzzled at his brother's odd choice of garb. "What…what are you wearing?"

"Don't change the subject!"  he hissed in return, clutching the front of the overgrown robe that was obviously not his own to shield his strangely feminine ensemble, one that Harry knew he recognized.

"What, pray tell, are you doing with Rose's blouse on?"

"…Kind of just…standing here really…" he responded shiftily, avoiding Harry's jesting gaze.

"And…a skirt…? You're wearing a skirt?" Harry inquired, a bit too delighted at the realization.

"It's not a skirt! They're Neville's shorts; I'm just a bit on the twiggish side so they won't fit me properly…" Ethan trailed off, attempting to brush off the subject nonchalantly though failing miserably. His eyes followed Harry's mirthful gaze as they roamed over him and back to the 'skirt', which he began to finger in a dainty, teasing manner.

"Didn't Mum say if you cross dressed on a day other than your birthday that Dad had the right to punish you?" Harry pointed out, docilely sliding back onto his bed, pushing Ethan off, yet again rather roughly.

"For your information, it is." Ethan responded huffily, crossing his arms defiantly over his chest.

"Really?" quizzed Harry, undoubtedly puzzled.

"Well…no…I just didn't manage to snag any clothes along on our little trip…and I didn't really expect Mr. Longbottom to plunge into our flaming heap of a house to bring me a fresh pair of underwear…" he explained rather logically, fingering the hem of his sister's unnaturally tight lilac blouse.

"And the cloak?" Harry inquired, motioning to Ethan's outer wear.

"Oh…it's Christopher-I mean, Grandpa's…I think the velvet blends just fabulously with the natural highlights of my hair, what do you think?" Ethan went on, sounding oddly concerned on how his hair coordinated with his Grandfather's clothing.

"…Take it off."

"…Why?"

"I believe it has the sponge effect on your brain. Soon there'll only be a dried up raisin left, and I'll bet you'll still manage to bug the hell out of me with its constant rattling around in your skull." Harry stated firmly, sounding thoroughly exhausted as he collapsed back onto his pillow, glimpses of his disturbing dream still flickering behind his drawn eyelids.

"Sponges are highly overrated," Ethan stated, completely missing Harry's dry wit aimed at him. "But that rug in the bathroom…now that's another story…I swear, I think it swallowed my toothbrush…"

"Ethan…Ziggy…stop it." Harry commanded distractedly, still keeping his eyes clamped down shut.

"I'm not doing anything…in particular…"

It wasn't long before he was forced to pry his eyes open yet again, curious as to where that certain noise was coming from.

"What is that?" Harry inquired irritably, turning his head to the hallway, where the insistent galloping noise was coming from.

"Didn't' I tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"Hmm…that must mean that I haven't." Ethan spoke out loud thoughtfully, tapping his chin as the noise continued.

As the frenzied shuffling noise drew nearer Harry subsequently grew ever more anxious. Unconsciously, he drew his knees up towards his body and clenched his fist as his acute hearing picked up a deep, low, snarling sound that suddenly sickened Harry to his stomach.  His breath quickened slightly, somewhat anticipating an attack.

Ethan, detecting his brother's blatant uneasiness, quickly flashed him a reassuring grin (by his standards, at least) and started to explain the source of the disturbance.

"Calm down…I think its Harry…" Ethan spoke briskly, striding over to the entrance of the vast room. Ethan leered at the door momentarily before reaching down and turning the knob in a jerky fashion.

"Ethan," Harry gasped frantically, "Don't open the-" Harry commanded breathlessly, immediately diving under his sheets in order to shield his half nude body from sight just as Ethan threw the door open revealing a hardly incriminating creature that barely even reached Ethan's shins.

The creature, an animal obviously, scuffled into the room casting Ethan grateful glances through its beady though luminous amber eyes. Its dingy rusty ginger fur was matted down and mussed, giving it the impression of a tangled blob of fire, though it it happened to match Ethan's jagged hair, Harry noted sardonically.

Halting ever so suddenly, the creature allowed a blood curdling yowl to escape as f it were being tortured before leaping onto Harry's bed.

"Harry…?" Ethan called out tentatively t Harry who had frozen on the spot, blanching a ghastly pale shade.

"…Mmrph…" Harry mumbled incoherently, flashing his eyes frantically from the creature to Ethan, motioning his head to the animal suggestively in vague hopes that Ethan would catch on. Very vague hopes.

"Blimey, Harry, what's wrong? You look like you're about to wet your pants or something…"

"…It's a…It's a…" Harry stuttered, cringing as the beast inched near him.

"It's a-" Ethan began to say, watching on as the creature stalked over the surface of Harry's quilt, digging its claws deep into the fabric, managing to pierce Harry's tender flesh as well.

"-Cat!" Harry announced irritably as he proceeded to toss the startled animal from his lap, which proved to be quite a difficult task.

The word "cat" was foreign to Harry's tongue mainly because it identified a creature he had never had the opportunity to experience beyond old photographs and ridiculous story books. To be able to experience this animal physically, however, was overrated in Harry's opinion. Highly overrated indeed, he concluded sullenly as the furry beast nuzzled its round face against Harry's own, creating friction between Harry's smooth skin and its own bristly whiskers.

"No, it's a kneazle actually…" Ethan corrected while barely managing to stifle his derisive chuckles, in order not to inflame Harry's explosive temper, something even the rather simplest being could accomplish by merely existing in the wrong place and the wrong time.

"Does it look like I care what this thing is?" Harry questioned brashly, shoving the kneazle towards the edge of the bed briskly, an indignant frown chiseled onto his face.

"…Yes…Yes it does…" he answered somewhat bluntly.

"Argh! Does it look like I'm playing with you, Ethan?!" Harry boomed once more, allowing the kneazle to tumble off the side of his bed and land on all fours.

"…Yes…Actually this may be hard to believe…but, yes…yes it does."

"Get out! And take your cat-"

"-Kneazle."

"Whatever! Take it with you!"

"What's he ever done to you Harry?" Ethan questioned in a mock hurt voice, recoiling towards the doorway silently.

"Well, for starters, he's currently mauling my glasses…"

"Er…I think he's teething…"

"I don't care! Get it out! You people just think you can just waltz in here, never mind the fact that I was trying to get a good night's sleep, never mind the fact I'm half naked-"

"'Morning, Harry, are you still in bed?" Rose questioned pleasantly as she, followed aptly by Neville and Alvin who were both so busy contently munching away on pieces of toast and jam that they didn't bother to notice Harry seething beneath his sheets.

"Hey Harry," Alvin greeted merrily, turning his attention from his toast for a brief moment, long enough to notice Ethan going into slight convulsions as he cracked up at their perfectly timed arrival.

"Er…is this a bad time?" Neville questioned cautiously, immediately sensing the dense silence from Harry's direction.

"Oh, no, not at all. In fact, leave the blasted door open. I expect our neighbors will be wanting to drop by as well to have a peek…You're only disturbing my peaceful, well deserved rest and the small insignificant fact that I'm practically nude shouldn't bother me at all." Harry stated in an overly false and sugary tone to his siblings and friends who stared at him utterly bemused, except for Ethan whose eyes were so blurred with tears from his silent laughter he could barely tell if he was staring at Harry or the hissing Kneazle.

"…Oh…that's a relief…see guys, I told you he wouldn't mind." Rose said lightly to Neville and Alvin, totally missing Harry's dry sarcasm, on purpose? No one could tell. Though that was usually the case with Rose, as she was a natural at handling Harry's little mood swings.

"Look who's finally out of bed…" Lily greeted in a chipper manner as the group of children entered the dining hall where breakfast was already served and for the most part, eaten.

It looked as if a grand feast had been set out especially for them. Great masses of breakfast foods were placed at random across the grand table. There were three types of eggs, tomatoes, waffles, toast, hot cereal and vast varieties of sausages and even some foods Harry didn't recognize. And out the corner of his eye he could spot his grandfather nursing a hefty chunk of what looked to be…chocolate cake…?

"Harry, we were wondering if we should declare you legally dead…I was afraid the pillows had smothered you or something." Frank added jokingly, keeping an alert watch on James who's fork was inching ever so closer to the last strip of bacon.

"I could only be so lucky…" Harry whispered bitterly, taking a seat at the table next to Rose.

"What was that?" Leanne inquired casting a speculative glare towards Harry.

"I said 'If only I didn't steal Ethan's rubber ducky.'" Harry lied swiftly, moving his hand aside as Rose purposely tossed a plate down aiming to silence him.

"Hmm…I do believe that was James'…" Christopher replied idly, offering a piece of buttered toast to the kneazle that had previously been harassing Harry.

"…What?" James inquired, hearing his name in he conversation. He turned his head up to look towards his father for a quick moment, though long enough to allow Frank to swipe to bacon off the now empty platter.

"Isn't that right? Daddy loves his ickle Jamsie, that's right. I'll buy you tons of toys-" Christopher went on distractedly in a little baby voice, churning up a few chuckles from the other end of the table.

"…Really dad? I always thought you thought I was a disappointment-" said James, fondly glancing to his father.

"…Not you, you silly boy. We named the Kneazle James too." Christopher explained bluntly, though taking time to give James a light hearted grin.

"I'm quite partial to that name…" Leanne said whimsically, getting up to assist the house elves with the dishes.

"Did you give anything else my name?" James questioned exasperatedly, as he tried his best to ignore the gasping laughter that was coming from the sides of him.

"…You know that house elf that was sent here from the Black family as a reward for taking in Sirius right before you left?"

"…The sweet one that likes to make chocolate Sundaes?" James pressed, his spirits perking up at the thought of this particular mild mannered house elf.

"No. The stubby, surly one…you know…with the bad teeth…and the eye patch…You remember, the evil little troll that stalks around the house after hours, drumming up dreadful memories in order to give nightmares…that happens to be one of his powers…actually his only power…poor dear, can't even bake a cake without burning it sadly, no matter how many lessons I give him…" Christopher went on, not realizing that he was unintentionally insulting James…the person, as he described the horrible creature that bared the same name.

"Hmm…the beautiful garden nymphs get named after Jeremy and the dilapidated, crooked house elf is named after me…That seems equal. Say Lil, what do you say we rename Corky after Ethan?" James suggested, referring to his twenty-year old owl who had lost its hearing and feeling senses and James was now starting to suspect it was going blind from the way it kept crashing into walls…

"James," Alice Longbottom called, emerging from the hallway with an irritated expression set firmly upon her face as Milo traipsed behind her merrily humming as he dragged along a passed out Corky by his claw. "It took your ruddy owl fifteen minutes to fly the letter into the window without crashing back down into the garden." she stated briskly, sending James into a silent seething fury, Milo being the only one noticing.

"Naughty, naughty, not-mummy…" He announced fiercely, wagging his finger disapprovingly to Alice as he scuffled over to comfort James. "Don't be pissy, kitty…" Milo went on, scratching behind James' ear idly.

"I'm not a kitty!" James exclaimed profusely, accidentally allowing his temper to set off at the wrong person.

"…Well that was brilliant…" both Lily and Frank responded in unison, chastising James for his foolish action that resulted in a bawling Milo, way past consoling.

"I want my Daddy!" Milo wailed uncontrollably, flopping down from James' lap and towards James II, the kneazle who was grinning wider than the Cheshire Cat in James' direction, James imagined.

"…Right then…okay…Mum, how about you tell us what the letter says…" Alvin sputtered through a grossly full mouth, achieving to splatter Rose and Neville who were seated directly across from him, with the chewed up mass. 

"Don't talk with your mouth full." Mostly everybody at the table reminded him sternly, turning away from the disgusting display of mashed up oatmeal and ham.

"Yeah, goodness forbid you choke-" Ethan stared to say, earning a surprised look from Alvin for his new found concern for him.

"Really?"

"-You'd probably end up hacking up your whole mouth full over me anyway, knowing your luck…"

"Oh yeah, it'd be a real shame if I ruined your skirt."

This comment caused a heated argument to erupt suddenly over Ethan's unique choice of attire, which Harry didn't really feel necessary to get involved in…even if he did know they were really Neville's shorts. He reached down to pick up his spoon once again and continued to eat his porridge only to realize that not only his utensils had vanished, though his half eaten bowl of porridge as well. And this was not to be anticipated when it was Rose he was sitting next to, and not the gluttonous Alvin.

From the corner of his eye he spotted a shifty figure scooting back into the kitchen so stealthily it was going unnoticed by everybody at the table except by Harry.  His head whipped around swiftly and for a split second his eyes met with a second pair, or at least one eye and another covered by an eye patch of another being. Its wrinkled jaw twisted up as it managed to throw Harry a sickening twisted smirk from behind its huge stack of soiled dishes. 

Harry shuddered momentarily and clutched his stomach jerkily and a sudden wave of nausea washed over him as the creature, a house-elf, mouthed a few silent words and bits of scarlet flashed in its one beady eye, causing the illusion of flames to overtake Harry. Simultaneously, quick wisps of previous nightmares, quite a few long forgotten, to appear as if in a slideshow in the back of Harry's mind. This was including the brief memories of his only sighting of the Dark Lord and his lackeys torturing the rat-man and even of his disturbing dream from the previous night, which left him with a particularly uneasy feeling every time he caught sight of his father.

Harry clamped his eyes shut so tightly tears were beginning to swell in his eyes. The pace of his heart was quickening at a dangerous speed and his breath began coming out as ragged hacks as it was difficult to breath as his throat tightened drastically.  Though his eyes were shut, Harry could still feel the presence of the house elf's one eye, boring into his mind, leaving an unpleasant burning sensation as he did it. Though the noise at the table was reduced to a low chatter Harry felt as if his ears were expected to explode at any given moment from the unfiltered stream of memories and noises that were pouring into his brain. He attempted to cry out, bring some attention to himself just as all the memories vanished just as quick as they appeared, leaving without the slightest trace apart from a raspy voice echoing in the back of his head repeatedly saying something like 'Hogwarts…'

"Harry," Rose hissed as she clapped a hand down onto Harry's shoulder, causing him to jump up in his seat and let a small yelp escape him.

"What's wrong?" she inquired silently, detecting his uneasiness for the moment as he watched the last house elf shuffle out the room.

For a moment Harry considered telling her, as they had never kept secrets from one another, not any Harry knew of anyway. Though something in his brain told him to stop, that things were different now, and would never be the same again. He shut his mouth slowly and shook his head indicating nothing was wrong. Though Rose didn't look as if she had been fooled a bit, which she hadn't, she still felt it was necessary to respect what little privacy Harry had.

'Where would Odysseus be if he had immediately told Penelope of his secret disguise? She'd think he was an old loon, that's for sure…Why do I have the feeling things wouldn't be so different if Harry told me what he was hiding…?"   Rose pondered silently to herself, referencing to not one of her favorite stories, though one she was forced to read frequently as a younger child.

"What did you wanna tell me…?" Harry asked distractedly, shaking her out of her thoughts.

Rose looked puzzled for a moment, as if she had temporarily forgotten what she was about to say though moments later, the information came back to her again and she was up from her seat and tugging Harry along with her.

"May we be excused?" She asked politely, turning her eyes to the adults of the table though her expression looked as if she had absolutely no intention of sitting back down.

"Well I suppose-" Alice began to say slowly, her eyes still focused on the letter intently as if absorbing some information. "-But Dumbledore says he expects us at Hogwarts for your tour at no later than-"

"Okay, thanks then." Harry spoke shortly, as Rose eagerly dragged him out the doorway and into the corridor, out of everyone else's sight.

At her right, Leanne noticed her son glaring stonily after them, his jaw set in an steely frown as he visibly tensed.  Leanne herself frowned slightly at this, placing a hand on her son's shoulder she spoke in a serious tone.

"Come now, James, they're only children." She said rationally, hoping to make James see how ridiculous he was acting. He just turned his head to face her, tight–lipped and stony eyed before responding.

"You have no idea what I'm worried of." He stated simply, bringing his clenched fist down onto the table suddenly.

"I have every idea of what you're worried of, and believe me, my grandchildren aren't about to make the same mistakes of those before them did. Absolutely not." She replied once more in a blunt tone as she rose from the table, sniffing indignantly.

"And how would you know? You barely had a clue as to what was going on with me, how can you-"

"Because," Christopher intervened in the conversation in his usual light hearted demeanor, "I named my imported Cornish Pixies after them, and children that share names with pixies don't do naughty, ill thought out things like children who share names with crooked, shady house-elves or that evil mandellier plant that smells like bacon in the greenhouse…" he finished at ease, as if it were common knowledge.

"…I'm confused…" Ethan announced after a few moments of silence had rolled by.

"Of course you are…we linked this to you being dropped on your head, remember" Neville assured him automatically.

"Is Dad named after a Mandellier too?"

"Oh heavens no, Ethan," Christopher replied, "The Mandellier's name is Natalie."

"What, what did you want to show me?" Harry inquired as Rose shoved him into the living room they had arrived in the night before, where a huge, body-length window was located.

"Look," Rose commanded, pulling back the satin drapes with so much ease and glee on her face, "What d you see?" she inquired exuberantly as Harry rubbed his eyes unsurely as if making sure he wasn't looking out onto a mirage.

It was incredible, to their standards, something truly extraordinary to look outside of a window and to see no ocean and no sand, though rather a vast outstretch of lush green hills that looked like they went on forever, there was even a forest and a exceptionally large lake in the far distance with various giant flexible flippers waving back and forth atop the surface. The house appeared to be atop a hill and at the valley of the hill were many shops and what seemed to be houses, a town, Harry decided. The town was something amazing by itself to Harry as he had never been directly exposed to many buildings, and even less people. He looked back to Rose who was standing behind him grinning madly.

"I can't…believe it…" He breathed out subtly, barely managing to catch his breath.

"You haven't even seen the best part." Rose put simply, ignoring Harry who looked as if he were about to protest her statement as she directed his head directly across from the window.

Amidst the wild shrubbery leaping from the forest and over o the border Harry caught sight of a grand castle with so many towers and wings sprouting up from it he couldn't believe his eyes. Though it looked somewhat ancient and antique Harry felt a dense of liveliness radiation from it even though miles away.

"Is that-" Harry began to ask quizzically, a sense of utter disbelief evident on his features.

"Yes…Grandpa told me that's Hogwarts!"

AN- Wow, less than two days after I updated my other fic and I'm already updating this one! Hmm…If I keep this up people might *gulp* stop harassing me…

My subconscious- *With heavy lisp* Oh, Jesus Christ, dude, I crave attention…

O_o…Oh wow…Er…anyway…who feels they owe me a review for taking less than a year to update? *raises hands triumphantly and accidentally hits the ceiling*