WOW I'm amazed at all this good feedback I'm getting. Keep it coming lays back and basks in wondrous praise…god I'm starting to sound sooo posh! I did have this chappie almost ready at half term, but then I got really ill (bloody flu) so I haven't been able to post it til now :-(

Thanks to random, CapriceAnn Hedican-Kocur, Kata Malfoy, Slinky-and-the-BloodyWands, K'lara7, aknightofni and tina7610813 for your BRILLIANT reviews, as well as hyperkitti for beta-ing as usual! Oh, and go read our joint fic. Its under the name kattikitti. Cummon, we want reviews!

Enjoy!

The next morning Harry awoke, spread out over the floor over a mass of letters, feeling strangely refreshed. He had stayed up until the early hours of the morning, reading carefully through every single letter, and strangely enough the letter from Professor McGonagall was the most comforting. As deputy headmistress, it was her duty to send their OWL results to every person individually; but alongside the dreaded list of subjects and their respective grades there was another, small piece of parchment. It was the last letter he had opened; partly because he wanted to open all the 'comfort' letters in one go, partly because he was scared he had failed everything. He was therefore surprised to receive the short letter, especially from his strict head of house.

He sat up, peeling a letter that had got stuck there off of his face, and surveyed his room. He had barely noticed it the night before, when he was guided in by someone – he didn't know who – but now that he could look at it properly, he could see that it was different from the one he was in last year. It was much larger, though that may just have been because there was only one bed in it, and the walls were all bright colours – red and yellow of course. Gryffindor colours.

But he couldn't think where he was. From what he remembered, last year all the rooms were full – that's why everyone had to share. So where did they find this one. Was it something that they had dug up since the previous summer and renovated so it was habitable? The room did look sort of familiar though – the chimney jutting out at odd angles, wiggling all across one wall and partially across another…the large cabinet that looked like it belonged to Hagrid…the large bay windows overlooking a beautiful countryside scene, even though that was an impossibility in the middle of London. He sucked in his breath when he realised what it was – Sirius' room. He felt some tears come to his eyes, and depression loomed once more…

"No." he scolded himself aloud. "I mustn't think about it."

He just had time to wipe his eyes on his sleeve, before he heard a heavy pounding below, which was getting closer and closer. Just outside the door it stopped, and he heard a series of 'shush's, followed by a 'what?' and several 'shut up's. Harry stood up, tried to kick some of the letters that were still lying all over the floor under the bed, but only succeeded in spreading them out even more, gave up, and walked silently over them up to the door. He opened it quickly, and immediately Hermione fell on top of him, revealing four others standing just outside, looking suspiciously as though they had been listening through the door.

Hermione quickly got up, straightened her clothes, and looked as though Harry was some sort of monster.

"Oh Harry I'm so so sorry its not that we were listening well I suppose we were but its not what you think it is we just wanted to make sure that you weren't asleep because we didn't want to disturb you but oh my god Harry we were so worried about you I mean you didn't write or anything I suppose it doesn't matter but still I would have preferred it if you had at least kept in touch but at least you're here now I was so worried promise you won't do anything so stupid again…" She said all in one breath, all rushed, as if Harry was going to disappear at any moment; though it was starting to sound very croaky near the end. (AN: This is actually possible. I tried. I may have needed oxygen for several more hours, but it is possible! Just imagine it without the gaps…)

"Erm…sorry?" Harry said, not quite sure if anything he said could stop her from starting up again. Luckily Ron noticed, and he interrupted before she could say anything.

"So, how was your summer, mate?" He said, looking around the room with exaggerated distain. "I know you probably haven't been out much, but did you have to mess up your room quite so quickly? It took us forever to get it ready for you. We've been working on it for weeks."

"Us?" Hermione said incredulously, her previous rant forgotten already. "We've? If I recall, you've spent most of the holiday so far in Fred and George's room."

"Its absolutely brilliant." Ron exclaimed, ignoring Hermione completely, and walking slowly into the room. "Ever since they stopped school and could…"

"Hush hush, little bro," Harry looked past Ron to see Fred, George and Ginny looking back at him. It was Fred who had just spoken.

"You don't want to give away our trade secrets." That was George.

"You never know who might be listening."

"Don't worry about these two, Harry,"

"They've been arguing all holiday,"

"We think it must be a lover's tiff" The twins both ended simultaneously, to two very loud slaps from Hermione. Ron, however, just seemed to ignore them, and whispered to Harry

"They've been trying to set us up for ages. Me and Hermione have got a bet going on how long it'll take for them to realise that we're not interested. I say two and a half years, she says three months."

"Wow."

"I know. I'm amazed Hermione thinks she's going to win like that. All my family is stubborn, those two more than most."

"I'm just amazed you got Hermione to take a bet." Harry whispered back. Ron just grinned.

Ron, the twins and Ginny made their way slowly downstairs, laughing at some joke that George was telling, Harry following at a slightly slower rate. He was smiling, nodding in all the right places, doing all the right reactions, and yet Hermione knew that he still wasn't happy.

Hermione was still standing in the doorway to Harry's room, looking down on the others as they moved out of view. She remembered her first day at school – she had been so scared of everything. She had stayed up the whole night beforehand, packing and repacking and sorting out her robes and packing again. Her parents had insisted that she couldn't take the train to Kings Cross all by herself, but had grossly overestimated the amount of time it would take to drive to the middle of London, meaning that she had to wait for ages before the train left. She was even more terrified that it had all been some huge practical joke. That she had dreamed going to Diagon Alley. That she was going to run straight into the wrong brick wall. She waited for over an hour, not daring to sit down on the suspiciously vomit-coloured bench, standing protectively over her luggage outside a grotty store of 'The Body Shop'. She watched as people staggered by – drunks, homeless people, businessmen, a group of bleary-eyed French schoolchildren. It wasn't until she saw a very strangely dressed old lady wearing an old fashioned lace-trimmed dress and a large hat topped with a moth-eaten vulture, a small boy struggling with a large trunk, that she dared to move. He was carrying a large toad.

She quickly picked up her luggage and ran towards them, wishing reverently that she hadn't brought quite so many books with her, until she was close enough to hear the old lady say "When you've remembered what you've forgotten, owl me and I will send it to you."

The boy looked nervously between her and the barrier beside him, as if looking for an escape. Hermione decided to make her move.

"Are you going to Hogwarts too?" she said, surprising herself with her braveness. These were magical people after all.

The old lady glared at her, as if trying to complete an inspection of something she already knew to be useless, before croaking to the boy "Come on Neville." And with that she dragged him through the barrier, and they disappeared.

Hermione blinked, barely believing it, and it was then that she saw Harry.

There he was, pushing a trolley that looked like it was twice as big as him, with a large owl. She had been vaguely aware of a loud voice shouting to him, something about there not being any platform, but all she could see was a lost looking boy, with messy hair that made her want to pet it.

'I hope he's OK,' she thought, and quickly stepped through the barrier before she lost her resolve.

It had been almost five years since that day when she first met that boy. The one whose emotions had always been open for everyone to see. The one who would confide in her, or at least Ron, with everything. The one who's smile would have half the school at his feet. The one who could NEVER keep a secret.

Why did he have to change?

Hermione was not the only person reflecting on their past. In a large forest in the heart of Scotland walked Thalion; Captain of the Guard, advisor to the King, and friend of the same. He had been walking, with his companions, since daybreak, and was enjoying the fresh air and cleanliness of a forest recently washed by rain. Since becoming Captain of the Guard he had found his duties outside grew less and less, and was more often than not imprisoned in the confines of the caves he lived in, writing reports for the king and setting duties and, less frequently, punishments. With the shrinking forest so the area the elves lived in grew smaller, and the cramped headquarters pushed home the thought that they were but unwelcome visitors in a world full of men. What he would give to be able to roam freely around the whole world, to see the sights that he remembered from his childhood – and just how much it had all changed.

And here he was, walking straight towards the land of men, not just to observe but to interact, to truly see the outside world. He remembered his childhood, glimpses of rich men from afar when the old king went on diplomatic missions, before the growing shadows in Mirkwood meant that such trips were impossible. But he had heard many tales of men from Legolas, and was looking forward to meeting some, thoughts quite obviously not shared by at least one in the group.

Fornelen, a relatively young elf, and son of one of one of Mirkwood's most prominent lords, was the one member of the group who had needed persuading in order to come. Like the rest of the company he was fair-haired, and his graceful face was marred by a glint in his eye that told of sights all prayed did not exist. When he was but an elfling his mother and two elder siblings, along with a small party, had gone on a diplomatic mission to a small village but a few leagues from the border of the forest. But it was at this time that the dark lord Sauron was just beginning to amass his army, and all strangers were considered evil. Fortunately the elves made it known that they were friends, but not before the death of his family.

He had never forgiven those men, and even though he had barely known his mother and two brothers, as they were always on missions, he still swore that the next men he saw he would kill, just as they had done to his family. It was for this reason that Legolas had protested at Thalion's choice, but Thalion did not want to believe that there was no hope for Fornelen. He truly believed that if the young elf was given a chance to meet some humans, that he might put aside his grudge against the whole race, and see that not all are as some were.

Fornelen, however, did not seem to agree. The instant he had heard of the mission's purpose he demanded that he should not go. Legolas begged him, flattered him, said that he was the only able bodied elf who was not tied down to any command and therefore was the only one who could go, and yet he would not budge. It was only when the King promised that he need not go near anyone, and could stay as a guard on the edge of the forest to warn of danger, that he agreed to go. Thalion almost laughed when he heard his friend make that promise, for he knew that there were some men who did venture into the dangerous wood. But Fornelen would have to be mad indeed to try to fight the giant who frequently entered the forest.

And however much he did not want the elf with them, there really was nobody else trustworthy and free to come. As the evil power they could all sense grew more and more of tem were becoming ill, leaving barely enough to protect the rest and carry out all the usual jobs. He had known from the start that Legolas would agree to go to the mortal's aid, not only because of his past relationships with them, but because he needed to. Before the whole of elvenkind became extinct.

Its a short chappieI know, but next time come the meetings!