A/N: Gr, I really hate writing fanfics! Nothing against them, but it's just so hard to work with characters that are not yours to begin with. sigh And here I go, filling up 80 pages of my notebook with a half completed story and ideas still wrote in the margins for it! Anywho, enough of the rant, even though I decided that tomorrow any time I have before work I am dedicating to my originals because I have not touched them much since I started this stupid fanfic! There maybe another post tomorrow, depends on how I feel tomorrow morning, but I have people who want this story added to, and other who want one or the other of the original stories…who knows. I'll probably post again tomorrow. On a separate note, got HP 3 today (the movie, being it came out today in America) it's quiet amusing to see the looks people give you when you show up to a store at one o'clock pm (when you are a high schooler and generally don't get out of school until 2ish so that would place you at stores around 2:30-3ish depending on traffic). I am a lucky person who gets to leave a hour early and go to 'work' but I have the day off so I spent all afternoon watching Harry Potter J. I hafta say, I do not picture Remus like the Remus in the movie. I don't know, I know he's supposed to be kinda raggedy looking, but that Remus looked too well dressed for me and I don't picture him with facial hair either…oh well. Whatever. That's my main complaint besides cutting info…but anywho, enough about my absent ramblings and onto why we are all here…

Bookworm: Thanks for the review and have a Happy Thanksgiving, being I don't think I said that to ya at lunch… L

Stella: Glad you really enjoy it. I'm finally at a good part in the story (the part I've been working feverishly to get to woops) so expect some good things happening around chapter 20, but I would have to say, chapter 15 and 16 are my favs. J So far.

Chapter 12: Thoughts/Memories

Harry walked back into his room, exhausted from the training session. He trudged to the bed and fell back on it, staring up at the high ceiling. He was physically exhausted, but his mind was wide awake, cataloging everything he had learned and storing it for later use. He was surprised on how much he already knew and retained from studying the books. Everything he had read about he had somehow found a use for it, and what surprised him even more was that he found he was shouting out spells he didn't even consciously know. Somehow, he had tapped into his old knowledge. He didn't think about what he had said, or did, it was almost as if his mind was on autopilot and his subconscious took over.

He had hoped that maybe since he had tapped into his magic knowledge that he might be able to remember his life. The real people that mattered, a few memories, anything. But no, the only things he had were a couple of partial memories that meant absolutely nothing along with the knowledge that he was in fact a good wizard. He could tell that Tom (the name his 'mentor' finally gave him) himself was even surprised. That had left him perplexed though. If Tom was his mentor, teacher, or whatever, he would have some knowledge as to what he did and did not know. But, then again, maybe he was surprised on how much he remembered.

He smiled to himself, pleased yet slightly disappointed at the same time and sat up. He was too wired to just lay there thinking and doing nothing. He looked at the desk, that he was sure wasn't there earlier and stepped over to it. It had pieces of loose parchment lying in a neat stack with a quill pen and ink laying to the right of the paper. The chair pulled up to it had a high back and matched the wooden color of the desk. It had two desk drawers which he found were empty besides the extra bundles of parchment and ink.

He sat down at the desk, pulling the chair back slightly and sat down. He picked up the pen and saw there was a calendar sitting to the left of the parchment. The days were checked off and if it was accurate, then the calendar proclaimed today is June the ninth.

Harry looked at the paper and began writing. He knew what he had to do. He began to write out a list of things that happened to him or remembered to try and keep things in perspective.

Falling; had to do with 'accident'? (remembered when woke up) Brown/Bushy hair (remembered when woke up) Distaste for the word 'Slytherin' (a few days ago?) House elves (?) Sitting next to 'her' at the large table in the great hall; Gryffindor Patch (?) Talking Snakes? (yesterday) Spells I did not read about (today, 6/9) 'Met' Draco Malfoy (today, 6/9)

Harry read over the list and frowned slightly. He found it pathetic that his life could only be summed up to eight events so far. Most weren't even memories, just facts that felt…odd. Like the talking snakes, for instance. Snakes are not supposed to talk. That much he knew. Yet, he had found himself talking to one. He sighed. He had thought the list would help gain perspective, but it only made things look more pathetic.

Maybe I can get Malfoy to tell me something. Harry thought. For some reason though, I feel that will be very unlikely.

He felt frustrated all over again. He hated being confined to this stupid room.

Why can't I leave? It's almost like…His thoughts paused for a moment and then he added aloud "like they want to keep me hidden." But for what? Harry knew if he wanted these answers, he would probably have to cooperate with these people. But what exactly did that mean in the long run? A voice in the back of his mind asked. Stop it! I want answers and if that is the only way to get them, then I say let's go for it. Harry thought and the voice stayed silent for a moment and Harry felt satisfied with himself.

But at what cost? It retorted and then all was silent. Harry admitted, that question left him stumped. He knew, he hoped anyway, that he knew when to stop. When to draw the line, otherwise, he would have no hope for finding out whom he was or the other answers to his questions.