Chapter Twenty

Eighteen Months Later

Harry pretended to sip his ale and resisted the urge to cough. The dimly lit bar looked even more hazy as cigarette smoke accumulated around him. He had never smoked in his life and the secondary fumes were starting to get his eyes watery. Still, he kept himself alert and watched a young redhead casually engage in conversation with an older man at the far end of the bar.

He focused on the man. He had a moustache, slightly gray hair and a pair of large glasses. He was dressed in a plaid shirt and dark pants. Nothing unusual there. He looked like any plain old sleazy muggle wanting to get lucky at this equally sleazy bar. But Harry knew better. Appearances could lie, especially if they were dealing with a master of disguise capable of using potions to alter one's appearance. They had been tracking him for almost two days now. They almost lost him when he left Diagon Alley a few hours ago. Finding a wizard in Muggle London was even more difficult as they couldn't use much magic. They had to rely on ordinary Muggle detective work of asking questions and tailing him around city's darker districts.

The last person they questioned, the bar tender, provided a big lead. He said when the man came in and ordered, he hesitated in paying as if he wasn't sure about the currency. That was almost a sure sign that he was a wizard. They confirmed it was the right wizard when Harry sent a discreet wandless spell to track the person's magical signature when he was momentarily distracted by the young woman's arrival. Now all they need was to convince him to come out of the bar so they could apprehend him.

The young woman crossed her legs, revealing more of her flawless skin that was already exposed by her tight fitting outfit. The man gleamed excitedly and leaned in closer to her.

Harry felt Ron twitch. "Easy Ron, she can handle this."

"Well she better know what she's doing. Merlin, of all the shades she had to turn her hair into, why did she have to pick mine? It's like I'm watching Ginny. It's sickening."

The woman leaned back but she kept her lips set into a seductive pout and gave a slight toss of her long hair. Harry felt Ron relax.

"I hope she hurries up and gets him out quick. I'm dying to bag him. We shouldn't have agreed to this. It's too risky," said Ron.

"We can't get close to him any other way. You're too familiar, even with the different hair. Hopefully with her disguise, he won't know it's her—"

"Alone tonight, sweetheart?" Harry and Ron were startled when a blonde woman sat on the stool beside them, effectively blocking their view of the couple. Harry smirked. They didn't need some muggle woman interfering right now when the couple could move outside any minute.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help noticing that you're all by yourself and I thought you might like some company," the woman said.

"No, actually I'm waiting for someone," Harry replied curtly, hoping that would discourage her. But she didn't budge from her seat.

"Well I won't mind waiting with you then," she replied with a coy bat of her eyelashes.

"I'm sorry, but I don't thing that's a good idea. I'm waiting for my girl," Ron said bluntly. But to their surprise, the woman didn't look disappointed at all. She looked behind her and turned quickly back to them.

"Your girl?" she said in a pitying tone. "Let me guess, that little missy over there you've been staring at all evening? You poor thing, I think she's already found a friend. I'm sure she won't mind if you find one too." She leaned closer to them, just as the couple behind them stood up.

"Bloody woman is annoyingly stubborn. Harry, we need to ditch her fast."

"I'm sorry, I really have to go," Harry said. He got up from his own stool and tossed some money in the counter.

"Oh, but I'll come with you," she said as she slipped her hand on his arm.

Harry could see that the couple was almost out of the bar and he tried to pry his arm loose. "Look, I'm sure you're very nice, but I'm just not in the mood…"

"Cut the gentleman act, Harry! They're at the door. Oh, let me handle this! Look, Miss, I really don't want to—"

"But I'm afraid I can't let you go," the woman interrupted. Harry could feel something was wrong with this woman. She was still clutching his arm and she was reaching for something in the back of her pocket.

"Ron, she's with him!"

"But she can't perform magic, not while we're in front of muggles!"

"And we can't either. She's going to bring us outside. We need to throw her off before---"

Harry didn't even get to finish his trail of thought. Ron suddenly pushed at the woman viciously and shouted something rude about her not being worth that high. He ran out the door and into the pouring rain.

"Did you have to call her a hooker in front of all those people?" asked Harry.

"Had to do it. Best thing I could think of. The polite way just doesn't work. Come on, we need to find Maddy."

The icy rain made it difficult to see but they saw two figures huddled together under an umbrella. They immediately recognized Maddy's fake red hair and proceeded to tail her and her companion. They turned left into a dark alley, but it wasn't empty at all as Ron and Harry expected. There were two old men at one corner in tattered clothes clinging for shelter under a tiny space of roof between two buildings.

"This can't be right. Maddy wouldn't lead him here," said Harry.

"Then that means, he led her here," said Ron. "They're on to us." They eyed the two old men. They were slowly getting up, their hands in their pockets.

Harry didn't stop to decide. He stunned both old men and raced towards the couple. The man suddenly tossed the umbrella away, threw Maddy to the ground and had his wand out. Ron and Harry avoided a hex aimed at them and dived at the pavement. There was the sound of footsteps. Harry barely registered the woman who tried to distract them at the bar followed by two others. He and Ron shouted a barrage of hexes in their direction. From behind them, Maddy was doing the same at a slower pace to the older man.

"I got 'im!" Maddy shouted from behind.

Harry and Ron rushed towards her and the fallen man. Harry drew out a small object attached to a chain around his neck while Ron shouted a few more hexes in the direction of their attackers. Harry pressed the object into the man's hand and grabbed at Maddy's arm.

"Target apprehended!" he shouted then felt the street below his feet disappear. Ron conjured a soft cushion a split-second before they landed inside the Auror Academy building. They got up and looked expectantly at Shacklebolt while their captured man was revived by the Auror assistants surrounding them.

"Thirty eight hours, twenty minutes, seventeen seconds. Not bad," said the ghost Auror. "Second team back, but you get full marks for a nice clean apprehension without muggle detection. There's plus points for evading capture and knocking out four surprise attackers."

Maddy smiled at them. "Zat was Ronald."

"Yes, we know," said Shacklebolt. "But you handled yourself well out there. Risky but effective. Just don't do it when you're alone. Make sure you have a partner to back you up." He looked at Ron and Harry. "Good save making a scene. Threw off even one of our best Aurors." There was a pop behind them. "Here she is."

The blonde woman at the bar sauntered towards them. But as she approached, her hair became shorter and turned bubble gum pink. Her features rearranged themselves to look younger.

"Wotcher Ron, Maddy!"

Ron shook his head. "I should have known. Tonks. You're a damn good seductress!"

"Not good enough," she said. "You weren't even distracted for a second. Don't you like blondes?"

Harry snorted. If Tonks really wanted to distract them, she'd do better if she turned into a brunette with bushy hair instead.

"You'll get full results of your evaluation day after tomorrow," said Shacklebolt. "You're dismissed until then. You'll be needing the rest, I can assure you. You know the drill."

"Yes sir," Harry, Ron and Maddy nodded. They bid Tonks goodbye and headed towards their lockers to gather their things.

Harry couldn't think of anything but a hot bath and a good dinner at home. He could sleep a week after a test like that. Even eighteen months in training had not gotten them accustomed to the exhaustion that kicked in after each mission. He almost couldn't believe they had survived that long. The theoretical classes were hard enough, but the practical ones were always brutal. He thought back to that first day when they were thrown into an unexpected ambush in the middle of the forest. It felt like child's play now compared to what they've been subjected to. Aside from the regular dueling lessons and time-limited potion making tests, they were given on-field training on tracking, intelligence gathering and capture evasion. Those trainings usually took days in different conditions---in a city, the forest, atop a mountain, or even underwater. In between there were the drills that were just as tiring but kept them in shape for more torture. It was a comforting thought that in a few weeks they would become junior Aurors and would finally get some real action and not just simulated ones like this last stealth and tracking test.

Harry wondered too if there was a possibility of getting a body at all. Almost two years living in Ron was a long time and by now, he and Ron were so used to fighting side by side. If he did get a body eventually, perhaps they needed to retrain. Would they be sent back to year one again if they did?

First year in Auror Academy was atrocious with both the Auror Academy faculty and the junior Aurors throwing everything their way that could reach their limit. It helped that they had formed a close bond with Maddy, J.D. and Alicia from the start. It certainly made their lives more bearable during that trying year. It was comforting to have someone they could rely on to watch their back, especially when people like De Lancre and Zabini were ready to gloat at their slightest hint of failure.

As if on cue, the infamous duo appeared from the door of the locker room bearing their trademark smirk.

"Congratulations Weasley. You manage to beat your previouz record by fifteen minutes. Too bad, it is still not good enough for first place," de Lancre mocked. Zabini snickered in support.

Harry was about to retort something back but Maddy pushed behind him. "Zo what? Zer are three of you and only two of us on ze team. You 'ad ze advantage. All the ze other teams always 'ave three members, except us." She glared at de Lancre then at Zabini. The former Slytherin shrank back. He knew well enough not to taunt Maddy. Even though she was small, Madeleine Dindarte was a fierce fighter who was just as good as using her wand as using her fists when provoked. She had a colorful vocabulary that could rival even all the Weasley brothers' put together and she was an amazing beater whenever they played Quidditch during recreation time. Harry often wondered how a tough girl like her could ever be friends with the prim and proper Fleur. The last time Zabini had teased Maddy, she hexed him so hard it left him scars on the face that took about a month to heal.

She continued to glare at him until he excused himself and muttered something about needing to go home. When he left, she turned her attention to her previous classmate. He didn't flinch.

"That's becauze you chooze to be on Weasley's team. He is always the odd man out with a two member-team," replied de Lancre.

Midway during their first year, one of the new recruits had dropped out of the program and the number of recruits was reduced to an uneven eleven. Since then, every time a team practical exam was set, Harry and Ron were assigned to only one other partner while the rest were grouped by threes. Harry and Ron always teamed up with either Maddy, J.D. or Alicia.

The French boy looked down at Maddy's wet form. Her skimpy red outfit had clung to her body, revealing her skin. "You know Maddy, you are always welcome to team with me the next time. I could always kick Patil or Zabini out." He continued to stare at her as if she was a piece of meat and leaned in to leer at her chest. "I am sure we could have more fun on a mission."

Ron stepped up to interfere, but Maddy had snapped at De Lancre in French. De Lancre didn't even look fazed. He whispered something back and left them.

Ron let out a curse under his breath.

"Alwayz eez like zat," said Maddy. "But do not worry. We did well."

"Yeah, I guess," said Harry. He pushed open the door to the locker room and let himself in. He let out a loud yawn. Two days of running around was bound to break down Ron's body if they didn't crash soon.

"I need to zleep all day after theez," said Maddy in a slightly woozy voice followed by a loud "Achoo!"

Harry looked at her. In the light of the Auror locker room, Maddy looked nothing like the tempting woman at the bar. She was soaked to the bone and covered with mud like them. In her torn garment that was not in any way helping her half-frozen body, she looked like a little girl that just had a wrestling match with a hippogriff and lost.

She cast a drying charm on herself but she was still shivering. The locker room at the Auror Academy was never warm, and it was downright freezing during rainy nights, even though it was already mid-March.

"You should change into something warmer," he said.

"I do not 'ave anything else," she replied as she sniffled. "Remember, I 'ad to get zhese ridiculous clothes at a muggle shop to work on ze plan. I 'ad to throw away my robes."

Harry rummaged in their locker and found a blanket he and Ron kept there for long overnights. He tossed it to her. "Here," he said. He cast a warming charm over the blanket then went back to packing their stuff.

"Zhank you," she said before she sneezed again.

"That's a really nasty cold," said Ron.

"I 'ave pepper-up," she said. She rummaged in her own locker and found two bottles filled with an orange liquid. "Zake one too," she handed him one of the bottles.

"No thanks," said Ron. "I really don't need---ACHOO! Okay, I changed my mind, I'll need it."

Maddy smiled. "Anytime Ronald. Eef you need more, just owl."

"Sure Maddy," said Ron as he placed the bottle inside their bag. "I can never make one of these. Too hard."

"I could teach you. Eef you want, you could come over at my 'ouse---"

"Yeah, maybe one of these days," said Ron. They had finished packing and Harry slammed the locker door just as Maddy was turning her hair back to its original color and length.

"You want me to change you back?" she offered. Maddy was always better at them with concealment and facial alteration charms. They were good enough to change their hair color and eyes, but the scar across Ron's cheek was too hard to cover up so they had to ask Maddy to do it every time.

Harry was about to accept the offer but Ron shook their head and ran a hand on their messy dark head that was a copy of Harry's original hair. "I think I'll keep it this way for awhile. Kind of refreshing. Same with the green eyes." Harry felt Ron grin inwardly at him. "Oh, and can you put a scar on the right side of my forehead? Lightning shaped. Like---"

"'arry Potzer's?" Maddy smiled.

"You're really determined into turning into me, aren't you?" said Harry.

"Don't flatter yourself. I just thought you might be missing it. Let's do it for laughs. Give Mickey a good right scare when we get home."

"Alright."

"You miss 'im, no?" asked Maddy. "Your friend 'arry?"

"Er… yeah. But not much," said Ron.

"I wish I knew 'im. Fleur said 'e waz nice."

"You may know him better than you think," said Harry. He pulled back his familiar bangs and held out his forehead to allow Maddy to place the fake scar. When she was done, she summoned a mirror and held it to him.

Maddy giggled. "You look 'orrible!" Harry agreed with her. Ron's features clashed horribly with the dark hair, green eyes and scar. "You should turn it back again zoon. I like your 'air ze way it eez. And your eyez too. Green eez nice but your blue eez better."

"I noticed you liked it so much you turned your hair like mine," said Ron. "You look like my sister."

"Do I?" she asked, surprised. She buried her face inside her locker and appeared to be rummaging for something. "I'll keep zat in mind."

"I'll go home now," said Ron. He picked up their backpack. "See you day after tomorrow."

"Alright, zee you, Ronald," they heard her shout. "And zhanks again for ze blanket!"

They apparated directly into the couch of the Potter Manor living room. A warm rosy fire was already lit in the grate and they sat for a moment and let their toes warm.

Mickey appeared before them, looking prim and proper in her tiny blue dress, white apron and matching polka-dotted bonnet. Unlike Dobby, Mickey, Harry and Ron discovered, had a rather tasteful way dressing after she was freed. On her days off, she would go out and buy cloth, needles and thread from her salary make her own little dresses. She also did curtains, tablecloths, doilies and other decorations that brightened Potter Manor. She always managed to amaze Harry and Ron with new domestic creations that made the house even more homey and pleasant. They had wondered for a long time where Mickey got all those ideas when she had never learned much from her own mother about sewing or taking care of the home. It was only quite recently that they discovered Hermione had been sending her housekeeping magazines on the sly and making it appear that they were gifts from Harry so Mickey wouldn't hesitate to accept them. After that, Harry took it upon himself to get magazine subscriptions and provide enough gold for home improvement under her care so the creative young elf could make use of her talents without wanting for resources.

"Good evening, Master Harry," she greeted pleasantly then fuzzed around them about their soaked and muddy state. Their new look obviously didn't even register on her. Harry wondered, not for the first time, if house elves actually see them as they really looked like or only saw the soul of the person within. Mickey did recognize him inside Ron when they met her. Hermione explained before that elves had a unique power to recognize any member of the family they serve even if they had never seen them before.

"What they do is they detect a person's magical signature, Harry," Hermione explained in one of her letters when they told her they were learning about magical signatures in their tracking class. "A magical signature is like genes, it gets passed on from parent to child. So your magical signature tends to be similar to your parents'."

"Could you get us a glass for this Pepper-Up, Mickey?" Harry asked as he handed her the jar Maddy just gave them. "Bring it to our room and store the rest in the kitchen. We'll just go head off for a hot shower."

"Yes, Master Harry. Hot water for bath is ready. Dinner will be set in half an hour."

"Thanks, Mickey," said Ron. They got up and as they passed her, Ron gave her an affectionate pat on the head. Harry was amused. He knew Ron would never admit it to Hermione, but he gained a considerable respect for elves since they moved in. Harry too had grown even fonder of his servant. She made Potter Manor a comfortable home to crash into when they were dead tired from training. It was the little things that she did that made a difference. It was almost like living in the Burrow.

After a quick shower to wash off the mud and grime, they emerged from the bathroom in fresh robes. A covered goblet was laid out on their side table. Harry took the potion and immediately felt the smoke coming out of their ears. It was like taking too much spicy food at once but the relief it gave was instantaneous.

Mickey appeared and announced that dinner was served. They followed her down to the large dinning room and started shoveling mouthfuls of chicken and roast beef. Just as they were into their third serving of shepherd's pie, Mickey returned with a silver tray bearing a parchment with burned edges.

"This came out of fireplace," she said.

Harry picked up the note and read the familiar handwriting.

Harry and Ron,

Are you home? If you are, and if you're not too tired to talk, floo me to this address:

Eskwela de Engkanto

Siquijor Island

Love from,

Hermione

Hermione did this about twice a week. She would send an earlier note to tell them where she was, then waited for Harry and Ron to talk to her through International Floo. It was more convenient than sending owls which took about two to three days to circle the globe.

"Where do you think she is now?" asked Ron before he shoved in the last piece of their pie. Harry waited until they washed it down with a glass of pumpkin juice before replying.

"No idea. Last time she was somewhere in Southeast Asia. I've lost track where exactly."

They headed back into the living room and reached for the jar of WWFP (World Wide Floo Powder: Global communication is one grate away). They threw a handful of the yellow powder into the fire, shouted the address and stuck their head in.

For a moment, all Harry could see was yellow smoke then it gradually cleared away to reveal a small room that looked like the inside of a nipa hut. The roof was thatched and the floor was made of bamboo strips. They couldn't see past the large open windows, but from the refreshing breeze that touched their cheeks, Harry could tell the house was near the sea. The room was furnished with a bamboo bed with a soft white mattress and a matching desk and two chairs made of the same material. There were various decors hanging from the ceiling that looked like stringed shells and beads. In the middle of it all sat a young woman on one of the bamboo chairs by the desk, her back to them. She was attired in a blue and yellow floral skirt that covered her legs but revealed her bare feet and a matching cotton top held by string at her nape that showed her perfectly bronzed bare back. She was intent on her writing with a quill and parchment surrounded by half a dozen opened books. A stronger breeze rustled through the open window, fanning her blouse and revealing a decorative spot at the small of her back.

"Is that what I think it is?" Ron gasped.

Harry could only stare. Since when did Hermione get a tattoo? It certainly wasn't there when she came home for the holidays. At least, he didn't think it was. She hadn't worn anything this revealing in front of him and Ron before. The most skin she ever showed was last Christmas when she dressed up in a Chinese dress that had a slit up to her mid-thigh. But he didn't even have time to stare too long. She was talking about Chinese treatments then and Ron, thinking he could sample an oriental massage that he heard about from Hermione before, made the mistake of telling her they were sore from Auror training. She made them lie down on the bed then began to stick dozens of needles all over their body. ("Really Ron, it's a traditional form of Chinese healing. It's the same as Muggle Acupuncture, but Chinese Wizards reinforce the needles with spells so they're more effective and the results are more lasting.") It was hard to goggle her legs when he and Ron were too busy deliberating whether Hermione had gone mad and was studying Asian forms of torture instead of medical treatments. Harry only hoped that whatever she was learning in wherever Southeast Asian country she was in right now was a lot closer to Ron's idea of 'treatment.'

Hermione suddenly put her quill down, as if sensing she was being watched. She slowly turned towards them and gave a sharp cry.

"HARRY! WHAT HAPPENED?!"

Harry and Ron gave her a puzzled look before they realized that Hermione was reacting to their new half-Harry, half-Ron look.

"Hermione, it's all right," said Ron. "It's just a disguise spell. We had a tracking test today and we needed to alter our appearance. I thought we could look like Harry this time."

Hermione was still clutching her heart. "Well you gave me a fright! I thought something happened to you. And you don't look like either one of you. You look horrible."

"You're the second person to say that today," said Ron. "Which is telling a lot. Maybe we ought to go over to Fred's and George's tonight looking like this. That'll make them scream a bit."

Hermione shook her head. "Please change back to Ron. It's really disturbing," she sounded genuinely worried.

"All right," Ron resigned. "Give us a minute." They pulled their head back and changed their hair and eyes back to Ron's. They couldn't do anything about the scar so it stayed in their forehead instead of the cheek.

When they stuck their head back again, they found Hermione sitting on the floor to be level with them.

"That's much better," she said.

"Bugger, you're no fun," teased Ron. "Where are you anyway? Indonesia? Malaysia?"

"The Philippines actually. I'm in a wizarding school situated in an island. The weather is just wonderful here. It's all sunny and warm with a great beach to swim in. The students here are just so lucky. We get to study in a dark and freezing castle and out here they get to enjoy all this warmth the whole year round."

"So what healing methods have you learned there so far?" asked Ron. "Magical water treatment, I suppose. Does it have anything to do with tattoos?"

Hermione laughed. "No, it has nothing to do with water or tattoos. And the one on my back isn't permanent. It's just henna. It's a fad here. It will rub off in three weeks. The really odd healing method here is---and this is just amazing---faith."

"Faith?"

"I know it's a different concept. It's part of the culture, I suppose. This is a predominantly Christian country, but somehow Muggles here are just as tolerant of magical folk as those of Egypt, India and Africa where their religion compliments magic. You know from History of Magic that in the west, the witch burnings were tied up to the Christian religion. But here the people just somehow harmonized their faith in their religion with the natural magical world. Their own faith in Christianity becomes a form of magical healing. It's a little hard to explain. But anyway, I'm not going to focus my study here. I'm much more interested in Indian healing and on soul transfer. I'm doing my final paper for this program on that one."

"You mean about my case?" asked Harry.

"Yes," said Hermione excitedly. "And I'm glad you brought it up. I've been reading up on how to transfer you to another soul when the time comes. I found out that the book Dumbledore gave us made it sound so simple, but a lot of things could go wrong on the actual transfer if one is not careful. Promise me if you find a dementor's victim you'll owl me immediately. Don't do the spell on your own. I'll come home as soon as I can and I'll help you go through with it."

"No problem," said Harry. "It's not like I'm in a hurry. So far, no one's been a victim of those creatures. Whatever the Aurors did to keep those dementors from the escaping is working fine. I may never get another body and I may just have to stay with Ron forever."

Hermione suddenly looked serious. "Don't ever think that Harry."

"Why?"

"Did you read the last two articles I wrote that I sent you? The ones that got published in Healer's Journal about soul and power transfer?"

"Er…" Harry began uncomfortably. The truth was he and Ron had never even touched any of the scholarly journals that Hermione sent them. They looked too complicated.

Hermione shook her head. "Never mind. Look, you remember what I told you that the spell to transfer you to another body is more than just uttering the words. It involves the will, yours and Ron's. Ron has to will you out of his body at the same time that you, Harry have to will yourself to detach from him. It's not as simple as wishing you away to enter another body. You have to know yourselves as individuals or else it can't work. The longer you stay in Ron's body, the more attached you are to each other. And the more attached you are to each other, the harder it is to detach when you need to transfer."

Harry shook their head. He wasn't quite sure what Hermione meant. "What are saying then?"

"Just a warning," she replied. "I know Ron that you have to ensure you don't hate Harry to keep him with you, but make sure you don't forget who you are as individuals either. Harry, you're not Ron. You may live in him, but you're a different person capable of living your own life. When the time comes you have to leave him. And Ron, you're not Harry and you will never be Harry. That's why I got scared when you turned your hair and eyes like Harry's. It's like you're almost wishing to be one person. I was afraid you're being too attached to each other."

"All right, we'll never do it again," said Ron. "I'll ask Maddy to get rid of Harry's scar and put my own back. Don't worry Hermione, I think I'm still too Ron to be Harry."

"Let it stay that way," replied Hermione. "I have to go. I have an herb class in five minutes. I'll floo again soon."

"All right, take care," said Harry. "Oh, wait, Hermione! What happens if we get too attached to each other?"

Hermione shrugged. "Well you may never truly live without each other anymore. You'll just stay that way forever, as one person. But would you really want that?"

There was a distant bell tolling and Hermione bid them goodbye. Harry and Ron drew away from the flames and silently headed for bed. As Ron drifted off, Harry kept awake. It wasn't really bad living in Ron. The last eighteen months had been one of the best in his life. He had never felt more alive and free than when he became one with Ron. And if he did have a new body, it could be another uncertain life for him. Was it really worth it to be just plain Harry again without Ron?

A/N: This has got to be the hardest chapter I've ever written. I knew I had to fast track the time line to a year and a half because nothing much will be happening to the character's lives. It was hell trying to put together all the details of what happened to them in those missing eighteen months. But anyway, I hope this satisfies that gap.

A couple of notes:

Eskwela de Engkanto – literally translates to School of Magic

Siquijor is a real island in the Philippines. It is known for its abundance of mystics and healers.

About Christianity and magic. I'm Catholic and I had no intention of making any statement on religion in this story. I was just stating a fact that if you trace Western history, witch persecution is linked much to Christianity. In the case of the Philippines, a country that has imbibed Christianity due to 300 years of Spanish domination, somehow the religion has been interlaced with earlier pagan beliefs. You'll find that a lot of faith healers in the Philippines actually use Catholic prayers as part of their healing rituals. People are deeply religious and proclaim to be Christian but old pagan rituals and beliefs somehow mix with religious practices. This has nothing to do with the story, but I just wanted to inject a little tribute to where I'm from.

On Magical Signatures. I got this idea from a discussion board about how magic exists using the concept of genetics. I was thinking that all humans have certain energies imbibed in their souls, except that among witches and wizards these magical energies are more dominant. They are like genes that get passed on from parent to child, but they are not imbibed physically, meaning it's not in the blood. (That's why the pureblood advocates were wrong). With muggleborns like Hermione, it was just chance that both sets of her parents carried dominant energies, but not strong enough to become magical themselves. When they combine their energies to produce an offspring, however, it produces a muggle born witch or wizard. Only a select few learned people in the Magical Western World are aware of the existence of magical signatures. Aurors, for instance already use it to identify people. But this is a relatively new knowledge so its uses are not so widespread.

I am grateful to all those who reviewed and continue to read.