"RON!"

Thump

"RON!"

Thump

"ROOOON!"

Thump

Ginny Weasley, red head, youngest member of her family at the Burrow, stomped up the old and homey steps of her house excitedly, turning sharply in the hallway before barging into her older brother's room with vigor. She rushed over to the bed with an odd lump underneath the covers.

"Ron, Ron!" Ginny shook her brother awake fiercely, knowing how deep of a sleeper he could be and how out of it he could get when first woken up. "RONNIEKINS, get up you fat arse!" Growing agitated, she slapped his red head.

"OW, Ginny, what the bloody hell was that for!" Ron gathered himself into a sitting position, rubbing his head gently as he glared at his exuberant younger sister. She huffed indignantly before the happy sparkle came back into her eyes.

"Ron, Mum says that Dumbledore finally relented! Harry is coming to the Burrow first thing tomorrow morning! Isn't that great? And just in time for his birthday too!" Ron seemed to process the words for a moment in his mind before he instantly jumped out of his sleepy stupor.

"What? Seriously? Alright! Wicked! And Hermione is arriving today, isn't she?" A wide grin split his whole face, adding to his bedraggled appearance, overall giving him a goofy look. Ginny giggled at her brother before handing him a comb.

"You might need this before you come downstairs- a few of the Order members are eating breakfast with Mum, discussing safety procedures to retrieve Harry for tomorrow. Plus, we wouldn't want dear old Hermione seeing you with bed head, do we?" Ginny taunted with a giggle, watching with a small smirk as Ron's face took on an interesting shade of red. He snatched the comb from her fingers and pushed her out of his room, shutting the door in her face.

Ginny blinked at the solid wood in front of her before placing her hands on her hips, annoyed. "Fine Ron, be that way! When Hermione and Harry start knowing random, embarrassing facts about your childhood, don't come looking for me!"

Silence.

"GINNY!"

"... think he's coming to!"

Harry groggily opened his eyes, a massive headache pounding away inside his skull. Bright sunshine glared into his face almost immediately as he tried to hoist himself up into a sitting position. A cool hand touched his shoulder, gently pushing him back to a lying position.

"Whoah there! You're not nearly strong enough to sit up yet! I thought you would be out for a few more hours at least. That was some pretty extreme magic you showed earlier."

"Who...?" Shapes that were a bit blurry before suddenly turned crystal clear as the sudden dizziness in his head disappeared. A girl his age was squatting next to his bedside, thick, curly, black hair falling in waves off her shoulder and on her back. Her eyes were an astonishing color; too light to be regular purple and just dark enough to be past lavender. They sparkled with concern and excitement.

"My name is Tizera, but you can call me Zera," she told him cheerfully, standing up straight and strolling over to a wooden cabinet a few feet away. Tizera hummed to herself softly as she rummaged through a drawer, a nonsense tune, her slim hands diligently searching through several items. Harry blinked in confusion, thoughts racing in his head a mile a minute.

After a few minutes, Tizera kneeled by his side once again, sharp eyes scanning his body. Harry blushed at the intense attention he was being submitted to, his whole face burning as he turned his head away. Finally, after what seemed like slow, never-ending, awkward minutes, she relaxed and raised her eyes back to his own, looking vaguely interested.

"Well," Tizera whistled slowly, impressed, "you certainly don't waste time in healing yourself, do you?" Confusion seemed to overload his body.

"What do you mean?" he asked carefully, wondering if that meant he could finally get moving. He hated lying on his back; he felt exposed and vulnerable that way, wide open for any sort of damage. It was just the way he was raised, he supposed. Always on his feet, either running from Dudley and his bully friends, or doing chores for the Dursleys, or battling Voldemort and the like... It seemed that after all that, he couldn't find it in himself to slow his pace and let his guard down.

"You don't remember, do you?" she said at last, shifting her legs around slightly as one of them began to fall asleep. "I found you on our school grounds, near the lake. You were exhausted, physically, mentally and magically, and you had aplenty of bruises on that body of yours." She poked him in the stomach for emphasis, then continued, "So I brought you over to the dorms and let you rest. And here we are, you all healed without a single trace that there was anything wrong with you in the first place. Care to explain? Not even the fastest healers in this school can do that in such little time."

"Little time? How long was I out, anyways?" Harry asked, rubbing his eyes warily. Tizera seemed nice enough...

"Oh," she said innocently, "A day or so."

"A whole day!" Harry yelled in disbelief. "That's not possible! The Dursleys wouldn't let me sleep ten minutes over six o'clock if they can help it!" Tizera gave him a bemused expression.

"Dursleys? What are you talking about?" She glared at him suspiciously. "You do go to Tielkin's, don't you?"

"What's Tee-el-kin's?" Harry repeated slowly, as if not understanding. "You said that's a school, right? In that case, no, I don't. I go to Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

The roll of gauze dropped to the floor, as did the medicine bottle and box of bandages. Tizera flushed crimson before whacking him on his shoulder, apparently shocked and upset about something at the same time.

"OW!" Harry began rubbing the sore skin, which was now turning a lovely shade of red, half scowling at Tizera and half looking at her in curiosity and concern. She stood up angrily, her hair whipping around as she moved. Her eyes were narrowed and Harry, with a gasp, saw a flash of thin, blood red eyes glaring at him from the shadows of his mind. His body tensed as the memories of the dream before came flooding back, realization of what he had almost fallen for hitting him hard. How could he just succumb that easily? If he had said yes to Voldemort's offer, who knows what could have happened; mind control, kidnapping, hypnotism... All those lives he could have destroyed...

Harry distantly felt his breaths coming out in short, little, erratic gasps as the shock of what had occurred struck deep within him.

"... and you could have told me from the start that you didn't go to Tielkin's! Do you know how much trouble I will be in for allowing an Outsider like yourself into this sacred place? I'll be lucky if I'm not expelled! You hear me!" Tizera stopped her ranting for a moment to see how the mysterious boy would react, and, instead of finding him indifferent or even worried or panicked, she found him in some sort of trance, hyperventilating and staring off emptily into space. Suppressing a gasp, she knelt down beside him, bitting her lip worriedly. This hadn't happened because of her harsh yelling, had it?

Suddenly, he drew in a sharp intake of breath, the light in his eyes beginning to glow again as his body eased back, the tension leaving his shoulders. He began to cough slightly and she rushed to get him something to drink.

Harry laid back down, eyes closed, catching his breath and resting his head. His body shuddered, as if there were an invisible chill in the room and he sweat dripped down his face. Tizera, who had come back, grabbed his hand and felt for his pulse, which was thankfully returning to normal, color springing back into his cheeks. She reached for his neck and propped him up gently, handing him a small silver goblet filled with some sort of strange liquid he had never seen before. He downed it, his dry throat thoroughly parched and screaming for any type of cold drink.

Tizera inspected him with calculating eyes. This boy didn't just fake magical shock, she could tell easily, and probably in his case he would need to stay for a while so he didn't walk away with the chance of relapse, but... Outsiders weren't supposed to even know that Tielkin's School of wasn't more than a mere legend! Something had to be done.

"So," she started neutrally, all signs of friendliness and cheerfulness gone, "If you don't go to this school, I was right about never seeing you around her before. I thought you had looked unfamiliar to me, but I couldn't be sure and you were on Tielkin's grounds. Who are you, anyway?" She dabbed at his forehead with a cool wet cloth.

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry said, his voice barely over a whisper. "I don't even understand what you're talking about." He wheezed out a chuckle. Tizera paused in her work and frowned worriedly at him. It seemed that even talking was beginning to feel painful for this new boy named Harry.

"Well, you have every right to be confused, if that will ease your mind," she said tentatively, gently brushing some wayward strands of black hair our of his face as she finished mopping up his cheeks and chin. "But what I want to know is how you even got here."

Harry pushed away her hands and forced himself up into a half sitting, half kneeling position. "Look, I have no idea where I am, what I'm doing here, and for all I know, you could be some spy for Voldemort, so before I start answering your questions, I need some answers for mine." His voice was strong and demanding, yet soft and weak at the same time. Tizera was taken aback at the tone. Well, she certainly hadn't expected him to fight for his own answers first, that was for sure.

"Well, I can't tell you anything, so you'll have to deal, Outsider!" she snapped before her shoulders slumped. "Look, I'm sorry. It's just... this school is a huge secret from the rest of the world- people don't even think it exists. I'm going to go get the Headmaster (and who knows how much trouble I'll be walking into) and see what he thinks about you. I mean," she paused slightly, "You must have come here for a reason, right? It's not like Fate would have it any other way anyways."

Harry watched in mild interest as she begrudgingly trudged out of the room, head dipped low. So he was right, this was a school, with students and a headmaster and even a secret location to boot. He put his throbbing head in his hands. What a mess he was getting into. First the nightmare, then the horrible trance, and now this. And to top it all off, he still had no idea of what was going on. His life was just taking a turn for the worse, wasn't it? And what was Tizera going on about Fate or something or other...?

"Is this him?"

"That's him."

Harry's head snapped up, his gaze sharply following the origin of the voices towards the doorway. Tizera stood there meekly behind a strong looking man, old enough to be respected as an elder and young enough to cut the line between adult and senior citizen. His face was impassive, his eyes, which were stone black, critical and his mouth set in a grim line. He was tall, around the height Harry imagined Ron growing to, with broad shoulders and a muscular body. The way he held himself just portrayed a stance of both defense and offense and a little bit of caution. Harry felt like he suddenly wanted to blurt out his whole life story.

'But why would I want to do that? I haven't ever wanted to share my past with anyone, let alone a man who just walked in the room,' Harry rationalized to himself, lifting his unwavering gaze up to the man's eyes. 'It must be some sort of mind trick or something.' The man gave a small approving nod, as if reading Harry's thoughts before kneeling down and placing a large, rough hand upon Harry's forehead.

"He's burning a bit," he said calmly, removing his hand after a few more seconds. Tizera let out a small sigh - of relief?- before rushing over to help.

"Where did you say you found him again?" the man asked, once again surveying Harry with his eyes. Harry squirmed slightly inwardly, but kept a still outward appearance. Tizera pushed another cool cloth to his forehead, this time simply holding it there.

"Headmaster, I found him down by the lake," she said respectfully.

"Interesting. What condition was he found in?"

"Minor concussion, but no real damage to the head, exhaustion in all forms- magical, physical and mental- and bruises and cuts covering his body."

"I see. Now, did you see him appear, or was he just there when you were walking?"

"Well, I thought I saw a flash of light and I thought it was a new arrival, so I hurried over. When I got a real good glimpse of him, he seemed too old, so I went to make sure that they didn't see the school or anything. I was just about to erase his memory and send him back when I saw what bad shape he was in. I'm sorry that I brought an Outsider in the school- I wasn't sure if he was a student I hadn't seen before or if he was a total stranger. Since I knew I needed to help him, I opted to just go with the first one. It seemed to make the decision a bit easier." Tizera smiled uneasily and Harry could openly feel her nervousness.

The headmaster processed this. "A light, you say? That is what alerted you to his presence?"

"Yes."

"And you said you thought it might be a new arrival? So it was the same type of magical light?"

"Yes, Headmaster. At least, I thought it was. But he's too old, isn't he? He must at least be fourteen or fifteen."

Harry grew irritated as the conversation continued. Tizera's hand was still resting on his forehead with the cloth, but it seemed he was either forgotten or purposely being ignored. He swatted her hand away and shakily stood up, a dizzy spell making him think twice about his hasty movement.

"Excuse me," he interrupted, "As much as you may think so, I don't appreciate being the subject of your conversation while I'm still present." He tried to make himself sound a bit more polite than usual, as this was the headmaster he was talking to, but agitation seized his body.

Instead of being appalled or annoyed, the headmaster merely laughed aloud, his black eyes twinkling in the light. "Ah, I apologize. Tizera and I were only trying to figure out why you are here, but you are welcome to jump in at any time, as you are, as you said, the subject of our conversation."

"What else is new?" Harry mumbled to himself, picturing the hundreds of times he had walked in the Hogwarts corridors and heard his name whispered during hushed conversations. He had kept his cool then, as they were his peers and not all their gossip was harmful, but confusion and being practically defenseless in this new school overwhelmed him all at once.

"Anyway," Tizera tactfully changed the subject, "So we've come up with the fact that you have no idea what's going on-" she smirked as she pointed out the obvious, "- and that you come from the highly populated and bigheaded wizarding world, am I right?"

"I wouldn't exactly call them bigheaded..." Harry cut himself off as Tizera gazed at him strangely. "Alright, some of those wizards and witches I would call bigheaded, but that's besides the point. Are you saying, that right now, I'm nowhere near wizarding civilization?"

Tizera, back to her cheerful mood, nodded. "Uh-huh! And that's just the tip of the iceberg Mr. Harry Potter! You're not only completely miles away from London- you're in a totally different realm!"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"... um, could you repeat that? I don't think I got that last part..."

Remus Lupin, extraordinary Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and one of a kind Marauder werewolf, carefully extracted his wand from his back robe pocket. He heard Moody mutter about 'youngsters' and 'not caring about their buttocks at all', but ignored him for the time being. Pointing the tip of his wand at the brass doorknob, he whispered, "Alohomora!"

The door to number four Privet Drive, Surrey, creaked open, only a small clicking sound of the lock proving that magic was indeed at work here. Four Order members, Tonks, Remus, Moody and Snape, crept into the silent and freakishly clean muggle house with caution. The plan?

There was none, really. After a two and a half hour debate on how to get Harry to the Burrow for the rest of the summer, they had all just decided, with Dumbeldore's permission, of course, to just go, sneak in, and take him by surprise. It wasn't the best idea in the world, but the four who were chosen to retrieve Harry were growing annoyed and tired, wanting to get it over with. Well, at least, Snape was like that. Remus and Moody were all for the most safe plans, as Remus cared for Harry like a younger brother or nephew and Moody was... well, paranoid, like usual. Tonks wanted the adventurous plan, but that was quickly ruled out as she was as clumsy as hell. So for the rest of the meeting, they drew up a small map of the Dursley's home, pointing to where they could enter, where Harry kept his stuff, who would get what or who, and where they would exit. All in all, it was a simple yet effective plan with a bunch of chances to screw up.

Remus and Snape quietly walked up the steps, the two splitting up as they reached the second floor. Snape went to go cast a sleeping charm on the muggles, as he was the sneakiest of all (hello, he's a spy after all!) and Remus went to go get Harry, because, he insisted, he knew more about Harry than anyone else and could prove that it was really just the Order coming to his rescue if Harry didn't believe him.

Tiptoeing to one door, Remus carefully opened it. As soon as the door was even a crack open, loud, obnoxious snores were heard and Remus mentally smacked his forehead. That wasn't Harry! That was his large, bratty cousin- the cousin they had accidently forgotten right up until this very moment. He crossed the hall and checked out another room.

Bathroom.

Closet.

Guest room... with another snoring victim, this time a large woman. Remus shut the door again. He didn't want to know.

Where was Harry's room? Remus was starting to get frustrated. He knew that they had gone into the house without a specific sense of direction for the second floor, but this was getting ridiculous. Fred, George and Ron weren't that much help either, as they had been outside when they had first rescued Harry. A lightbulb went off in Remus's head. Window! That meant Harry was either on one side of the house or the other, and since all the rooms on this side of the hall were occupied, that meant Harry had to be that-a-way. He set off for the other end of the house.

With a sigh of relief, the werewolf finally saw the last door- the only door that could belong to Harry. When he looked inside, however, he frowned. The walls were bare and there was no furniture in the room save for a small wooden wardrobe, a night table and a beat up old mattress. The room itself was only a bit bigger than the closet Remus had seen earlier. Surely his relatives would at least give him a nicer place to stay, wouldn't they? But that smell... the smell of Harry that only his sharp werewolf senses could detect... This was Harry's room, whether Remus liked it or not.

Hedwig rotated her head around from her cage to stare at him, enormous yellow eyes staring at him with helplessness. But helplessness with what, Remus wondered. Then he realized something. This was Harry's room, but...

"Where's Harry?"

What do you think? Too awkward, bad, short, okay, good, long, great? Pleast tell me, and have some reason to back it up! Thanks!

bluehoobell

Disclaimer: I do not own HP or any of the characters except my own.