**Yes! Can you believe I'm finally updating? Christmas holidays are officially here! December, and I'm home free!!!!! You'll never guess how I've chosen to spend my time…

This was originally written for Jesus, but don't you think it reflects Harry's story as well?

This little babe,

So few days old

Has come to rifle Satan's fold

All hell doth at his presence quake

Though he himself for cold do shake

For in this weak unarmed wise,

The gates of Hell he will surprise.

With tears he fights,

And wins the field

His naked breast stands for a shield

His martial ensigns Cold and Need

And feeble flesh his warrior's steed.

Benjamin Britton 'Ceremony of Carols'.

Disclaimer: I stick by what I said before. I can't seem to remember ever owning anything like Harry Potter, I'm just thirteen, for crying out loud! **

'Well,' came back the writing,

'I'm not actually writing it. I'm thinking the words onto the page. My copy of that book is currently at Remus's, about six hundred miles away. That's why it doesn't look like my handwriting.'

Harry thought about it, not dismissing the idea that this might be a trick of Voldemort.

'But then, how can you know what I'm saying?'

'It appears on the palm of my hand. Cool, isn't it? Remus rigged it. He's probably reading our whole conversation right now, safe in his house, in the dry.'

As soon as those words faded, new ones appeared before Harry had a chance to ask Sirius what he meant. But he knew that handwriting. He'd seen it on a forth of his defence against the dark arts essays, and of course on the short PS's on the end of Sirius' recent letters

'Shut it, Padfoot. You wanted to go on that mission, and it's your own fault that you are where you are now.'

'Where is he Professor?' wrote Harry.

'Sitting in a puddle somewhere in Edinburgh,' came back the familiar hand. 'And call me Remus, Harry.'

'Right.'

The ink of Harry's last word faded into the paper.

'Harry,' came Professor Lupin's writing. 'You gave me a hell of a scare.'

'I know.'

A pause.

'Did he really punch you?' asked Harry, meaning Sirius.

'Yes.'

'Sorry, Moony.'

'That's all right. I haven't seen you explode like that since you found out that Snape had snuck bright pink hair dye into your shampoo bottle.'

Harry laughed out loud.

'Don't you dare laugh, Harry,' said Sirius' next words. Harry couldn't help it.

'You going to tell us what happened, Harry?' came Remus' hesitant writing. Harry stopped laughing and dipped his quill.

'No.'

'All right.'

Harry started. What? That was it? No more questions?

'You'll tell us eventually,' thought Sirius onto the page.

'Don't count on it,' Harry wrote.

'Anyway, that's not the point,' said the neat Professor's writing. 'There is a reason why Dumbledore let us do this, Harry. It's a very advanced form of communication, you see.'

The words faded away.

'Does he always take so long over a story?' Harry asked.

'Evidently,' replied Sirius.

'Well,'

'Get on with it, Moony.'

'All right, all right. Well, the reason Dumbledore let us do this is'-

'We're going to teach you to become an animagus,' interrupted Sirius.

Harry stared at the words, his eyes burning into the paper as they faded out of sight.

'Harry?'

'Really?'

'Yes, really. Dumbledore thinks it could be one of the most useful skills you might acquire. Under the usual circumstances he wouldn't have let you try it, but since we're teaching you'-

'Doesn't he think it would be better for Professor McGonagall to teach me? No offence.'

'None taken. No, Harry. You may not have noticed, but Professor McGonagall'-

'Is a old bat.'

'Will you stop interrupting me, Sirius! I was going to say that Professor McGonagall is a particular stickler for rules. She probably wouldn't like the fact that you're underage, or that fact that you're not going to register.'

'I'm not?'

'Nope. We couldn't stand the paper work.'

'That is not the reason, Sirius.'

'I know, I know. Gees, lighten up.'

'The reason, Harry, is that it wouldn't do for everyone to know that you were an animagus, your form and its markings and so on. That way it would hardly be an advantage to you. That is also why you must keep this an absolute secret, Harry. Even from Ron and Hermione.'

Harry could see that quite easily.

'But, doesn't it take years to become an animagus? I won't be able to practise that much once school starts, if I have to keep it a secret from everyone.'

'Well, usually it does take years, but you have a shortcut. Believe it or not, not many people become animagi when their parents were as well. But in these special circumstances, it becomes a lot easier for them. Certain security stages can be'-

'Skipped.'

'Well, I was going to say 'skimmed over'. Basically, to be an animagus there are countless spells and charms you have perform on yourself to stop yourself staying in the form and so on. But those spell are already installed in your blood, so basically'-

'We'll have you up and running in about a fortnight.'

Harry sat stunned. An animagus in two weeks?

'So,' said the book's default handwriting. 'You pleased?'

'You bet.'

'Good. We start tomorrow.'

'Tomorrow?'

'Yes. Professor Dumbledore told us to give you a day to recover.'

'Spoilsport.'

'Take care of yourself, Harry.'

'Sure.'

And there was no more.

"What are you doing?" Sleeve had woken up.

"It's a long story, Sleeve."

"Ah. In that case, I probably will not understand."

Harry smiled.

"What will you do now?"

"Well, I was thinking of playing some Quidditch before breakfast."

"Quidditch? This is the game where you are…"

"In the air."

Sleeve made a noise which was halfway between fear and disgust.

"In that case, I think I will go back to sleep."

Harry laughed and grabbed some of his new clothes and his Quidditch robes. After hastily pulling them on he grabbed his Firebolt from his trunk and flew down the stairs to the common room.

He went out of the portrait hole, ("Good morning, dear!") and down seven flights of stairs to the entrance hall, and from there made his way out to the Quidditch pitch, wishing for the ten thousandth time that it was permitted to fly out of the small windows of the tower.

Once on the pitch, he mounted his broom, excited. He hadn't flown since the First task last year.

With a good sharp kick off, he zoomed into the morning air.

After about ten minutes warm up, which consisted of twenty laps around the goalposts, (one of Fred and George's least favourite exercises), Harry began the easy Seeker and multi-position tactics and manoeuvres, one by one, doing as best as he could without any other players.

He performed a quick confunder, spinning round an empty space which might well have been an enemy player.

Then, the Seeker's turn, upside down and backwards for about three metres, then a spin the correct way up. He caught an imaginary Snitch with a whoop of triumph.

Finally, he reached the most difficult move. The Wronski Feint.

His throat dry, he prepared for the dive. He rose another five metres into the air.

Whoosh!

Anyone watching would have seen only a red blur. The wind whistled piercingly through his ears and hair as he dived smoothly, down… down… and then he pulled out, about six metres from the ground.

He landed, cross with himself. He'd never had a problem with dives before. The only difference was that it was much higher, and much faster…

He practised the Wronski Feint for an hour, not able to pull out of the dive any lower than five metres above ground level, before he realised he was late for breakfast. He was also starving.

Leaving his Firebolt and robes in the changing room in the hope of coming back after his lesson, he made his way back up to the castle and the Great Hall.

The Staff were already there, apart from Snape, who quite obviously was not a morning person during the holidays.

"Good practise, Harry?" asked Professor Vector, whom Harry had never even spoken to before, as he came in.

"Er… yeah, not too bad," said Harry, not really concentrating as he ran over the dive over and over again in his mind. It took him about five seconds to realise.

"How did you know I was practising?"

"I think everyone has spied on you at some time during the morning, Harry," said Professor Little.

"Now, now Wendy," said Professor Flitwick. "Spying is such a strong word…"

Harry sat down in his chair with a thump as everyone laughed. He felt embarrassed. All the teachers had witnessed those awful dives…

"You're incredible, Harry," Wendy said to him as he turned slightly red, forking sausages bacon and mushrooms onto his plate.

'Mmm."

"'Course you are," said Hagrid.

"There aren't many kids your age who can do a Wronski Feint," said Professor Sinistra.

"But I can't," said Harry quickly.

"Of course you can," said Professor McGonagall. "What was that you were doing out there then? That was no multi-position move."

Harry shrugged.

"I used to be a Beater, you know," said Wendy suddenly.

Harry stared at her. Wendy, a Beater? Little Professor Little? She was barely taller than he was!

She laughed at the look on his face.

"Surprised? Oh, I might be small, but I can pack a mighty punch."

Harry smiled despite his recent disappointment. "I'll believe that when I see it."

All the teachers winced.

"Wrong thing to say Harry," said the Headmaster.

"Oh, I'm sure that can be arranged," said Professor Little with a glint in her eye. "I'll take you on one day. Not just yet though. When you're ready."

Harry looked up. Did she mean what he thought she meant?

"You mean you'll…"

"Oh, sure I'll teach you. After all, I got taught by my brother, and he was one of the best."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a while, as though Wendy had said something that would have been better left unsaid. Harry also noticed that she had used 'was'. So her brother was dead then.

Luckily, the post arrived at that moment.

Harry grinned widely as no less than five owls swooped down on him in affection, some with letters, some without.

Hedwig had nothing. Harry felt guilty as soon as she swooped onto his shoulder and nipped his ear, because he'd forgotten about her in the excitement of recent events. He supposed she must have escaped the Muggle officers somehow, as he remembered seeing her cage in the dormitory.

Errol had for once made a decent landing in Harry's lap, the parcel around his leg almost falling off by a fraying piece of string, whereas Pig was trying to get himself out of the soup bowl in complete hopelessness.

Madeline, looking freakishly like Hermione as always, was perched solidly on the edge of the toast rack, looking pleased with herself for delivering her letter.

Flash, on the other hand, was behaving oddly. He was a magnificent bird, but quiet and withdrawn, just like Remus was.

Now, however, he was making large circles in the air above Harry's head, hooting loudly.

Harry put his hands over his ears. "Flash, what's up? Are you Ok? Is Remus Ok?"

Flash didn't even show that he'd heard. He continued his demented circles, making a noise to waken the dead.

"Hagrid, what's wrong with him?"

"Look!" squeaked Professor Flitwick.

Harry looked up. Another owl swooped through the windows of the Great Hall.

It was a large brown owl with a massive wing span.

"Don't I know you?" Harry whispered as it settled right in front of him. He untied the letter from its leg, but almost before he was finished, the owl flew off again.

He looked at the envelope. It read simply – Harry Potter.

In a trance almost, Harry put one finger underneath the flap, but then…

"Flash!"

The tall greying owl knocked the letter clean out of his fingers and it flew into the centre of the Hall.

Where it burst into flame.

And then words rose out of the fire as it died away. Words in a horrible, compelling voice that made Professor Sinistra put a hand to her mouth.  

"Don't think you've got rid of me so quickly, Harry Potter! One day I'll finish the task boy, just you wait and see…!"

And there remained only a pile of ashes.

"What, you're going to try again?" Harry said sarcastically to the ashes. "For the forth time? A little behind schedule, aren't you?"

Everyone else relaxed stiffly into their chairs, most of them still staring either at the small pile of what remained of the letter, or at Harry.

It appeared that out of the many things Professor Dumbledore hadn't told his staff, he had let them know, one way or another, that Voldemort had returned.

Professor Dumbledore however, looked thoughtful.

"I hope we will not have to expect to many of those in days to come," he mused.

"So do I," said Harry viciously. "Pass the toast please."

As he had planned, his apparent eagerness to eat at last put the letter out of almost everyone's minds.

He read through the other letters he had received briefly. Errol had brought a whole box of assorted sweets from the Weasley twins. Harry made a mental note to feed them to someone else before he tried them himself.

Ron and Hermione's letters demanded news about how he was doing at Hogwarts. Dumbledore had informed both of his position. Ron's was evasive and Harry supposed he was uncomfortable about the whole Dursley issue. He did say however, that he had had a thought and he would talk about it when they got back to school.

Harry guessed he wouldn't be getting much news from Hermione until the new term, seeing as she had left for Bulgaria that morning. Harry felt slightly sad at that, although he couldn't say why. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she had practically saved his life.

"Right, Harry. On to the next step."

They were sitting in McGonagall's classroom again; Harry perched on the edge of his seat.

He found himself fervently wishing that whatever the step was, it wasn't going to make nearly as much mess as the Accio spell had.

"Well, one of the most needful defence spells is a shield. A Patronus is an example of a shied. Not a particularly good one, but…"

"Why not a good one?" said Harry indignantly.

"Oh, it's a good enough spell all right," said Wendy dismissively. "But it only works against Dementors, you see. A proper shield should be able to protect you against other things, spells and curses, right?"

"Right."

"Well, it's easy enough with a wand, but we're aiming for a double whammy here."

Harry smiled. "Wands first?"

"Spot on."

Harry pulled out his wand.

"Good. The spell is-" she paused. "I wonder if this is a good idea."

Harry lowered his wand.  "Come on, miss. You can't just stop the lesson right in the middle."

"I wasn't even going to suggest stopping it, Harry. I was just thinking, you manage Accio without the spell, don't you? You did that without me even telling you you could."

"So…"

Wendy grinned at him and he sighed. "Why does it always have to be different for me?"

"Because you are very special, Harry. You get to be my guinea pig."

"Bully for me."

"Language, Potter. Now, what I want you to do is concentrate fully on protecting yourself. It's very like conjuring a Patronus, except I'm not going to give you any summoning words."

"Brilliant," Harry muttered, but he closed his eyes and began to concentrate.

"You won't get anywhere with your eyes closed, Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes at her and she giggled. "All right." He looked closely at the end of his wand and willed something to happen, like he did with a Patronus. He felt rather naked trying to do it without the words.

Protect me, he thought.

Slowly, very slowly, something began to come out of the end of his wand. It looked like a strand of silver fire.

Then another appeared, stretching out in the other direction. Then another, and another. The shear effort of keeping them there was making Harry sweat as they spread into a star shape.

With a sudden whoosh of energy, the air between the strands of fire blazed with silver fire. Pure silver fire. It was beautiful to watch.

Just past the shield he had conjured, Harry could see Wendy. She put out a tentative hand to touch the fire. Swiftly she drew it back as if it burned her.

Harry stopped his concentration out of concern for his teacher and new friend, and the shield vanished.

"'Ery 'oo' 'arry," said Professor Little, sucking her fingers. She pulled them out of her mouth and looked at them.

"Are you all right?" asked Harry, a little worried.

"There's no lasting harm done," said Wendy with a smile. "That was excellent, Harry. If you'd kept it longer I could've tested it for its immunity to spells."

"I'll do it again."

"Not yet. Get your breath back. Then try it without a wand."

Harry stared at her. "But I've only done it once, even with one. Shouldn't I keep practising that one first?"

"No. I don't know if you've noticed, but we haven't got all that much time."

Harry disagreed with that inside himself. They had enough time until he decided he was going to try and kill Voldemort. That was the bottom line. When they next met, it was going to be on his terms, not on Tom Riddle's.

They talked for about five minutes, about the theory of the shields, until Wendy decided Harry was ready to try again.

"Hold out your hand."

Harry did.

"Now, make the support lines come out of each finger and your thumb. Then tell them to connect. Usually your wand would do that for you, but you alone are controlling this particular shield."

Harry tried to remember that particular part of him that had been concentrating to create his wand shield. Once he found it, he tried to make it create the same strands of fire.

After about a minute he gave up. "It's not working."

Wendy bit her lip in her own, child-like way.

"Maybe we were wrong. Maybe I can only do one wandless spell."

"And maybe you don't believe enough in yourself. Tell you what, let's put you into a real situation where you'll need to use a shield."

"You're going to curse me."

Wendy chuckled. "That's what makes it fun, Harry." She levelled her wand at him.

"Visortia!"

Harry ducked out of the way just in time. That curse would have blinded him for an hour if he'd been hit by it.

Wendy sighed as he dusted himself off. "That's not the idea, Harry."

Harry looked up at her sheepishly. "I know." He walked into a clear area where there were no desks and stood with his hands on his hips. "All right. Hit me with it."

Wendy laughed out loud. "Oh, Harry! You do look noble standing like that! Ok, while we're at it…"

She waved her wand, and in an instant was suddenly wearing a long black cloak and a matching mask in the manner of Death Eaters. She cackled an evil cackle.

"Muahahahahaha! Now what, Potter? I have deprived you of your wand, so what will you do?"

It took Harry a second or two that this was meant to be a game. He grinned. "I shall strike you down to the ground!"

"Indeed?" Wendy laughed again, in a fake deep voice. It was quite a good impression.  "Without your wand? You should be grovelling on your knees, boy!"

Harry noticed her make a little downward gesture with one hand, the one that wasn't holding her wand. He understood.

He fell to his knees, a pleading expression on his face. "Oh, no kind Death Eater! Please don't hurt me! I'm just a sweet little boy! You can't kill me!"

"Want to bet?" said Wendy. Harry thought that might be a bit of a step down, because he couldn't imagine any Death Eaters he knew saying that. Wendy was certainly a good actress, though.

She lifted her wand at him again, black mask menacing. "Gergoria!"

Harry wasn't quite ready for it this time. On his knees, he couldn't run or dodge, or in fact do anything to get out of the way. He raised his hand protectively, willing something, anything to happen, and the silver shield flared up again, but this time from his palm and all his fingers.

The curse sped toward the shield, connected with it, and exploded.

Wendy's costume was off the instant Harry took his shield down. He was white and shaking as she helped him up.

"Are you Ok?"

"Yeah, yeah… I can't believe it worked!"

"I can. You certainly are an extraordinary boy, Harry."

Harry looked up at her, into her deep, bright blue eyes. What… or who… did those eyes remind him of? He couldn't think, he couldn't remember…

"You were good too. That voice!"

"Thank you. I was quite an actress in my time."

Harry laughed. "You seem to have been everywhere and done everything, haven't you?"

"Almost, Harry. Almost. I believe that there is no point in an education unless it's going to help you sometime in the future. I never teach a lesson without a real situation re-enactment."   

"So now what?"

"Now we practise it again, until you can hold it for longer and with stronger curses."

She grinned maliciously, as if she was going to enjoy that part immensely. Harry prepared himself for a long afternoon.

Sleeve hissed as Harry entered the room.

"Any stories to tell?" he asked as Harry climbed wearily into bed. He grinned as the snake moved up the bedclothes until he rested around Harry's neck.

Would you rather freeze to death…

"It's been a really long day, Sleeve," he said. "A really long day."

** Hooray! Another chapter up and running. Did you like it? Drop me a review!

Here be thanks:

(You must forgive me if I miss someone because several people reviewed my last Author's note and I can't tell whether I have already thanked them.)

Autumn Dreams, Lucerito-del-alba, Kim, illustrious sorrow, little gin blossom (too right!), hyperwriter (as of yesterday), chibi, Lanfear (hehehe), unknown, djf.

Reiken: You are right, I am trying to keep Wendy a mystery for as long as I can, but she might come to light in a couple of chapters, and some people have been making dodgy guesses…

Liza Potter: well… yeah December but not holidays. It is Now though! Yippee!

Angel Baby: Now, you wouldn't believe it but you are the first person to pick up on that…

Potter-Pikachu: Thanks! Sorry if I wasted any of your life by taking so long, but you would be paying a hell of a lot of money for the phone bill if you checked every five minutes. I also enjoyed your stories very much. My best to Sirius and Remus.

That's it? Now I know I missed someone. Sorry peeps. Pleeeeeeeeease review! I'm a junkie for them, nobody's fault but my own, I know. My mum, she says, "It is impossible to get high on reviews, dear," and I just say "no it isn't!"

Ahem, sorry, it's another of my trademarks. A pathetic attempt at being funny.

Love Laterose.