Harry inclined his head over towards the class, more out of curiosity than anything else. Hermione's wand and nearly a dozen or so others belonging to various members of all four houses were trained singularly upon the platinum-haired Slytherin. Given that he had no potential support within the room, Draco was left with little choice but to back down. He stalked angrily over to the other end of the room and took a seat as far away from everybody else in the class as possible. Harry instead gave his attention to Blaise, who took the seat to his other side, rather indiscreetly sliding the desk up against his and leaning over onto him. Her more than ample breasts found themselves nestled snugly against his shoulder, the bone jutting into her cleavage from underneath her robes. Her two counterparts were likewise sitting in a pair of desks in front of them, both looking at him. Blaise spoke to him in a flirtatious cooing voice. It took almost all of his restraint not to throw her on the desk and fuck her right in front of the entire class.

"You've been avoiding us lately, Harry. You haven't spoken a word to us at all since the train..."

He hadn't intended to forget about them, though he could see where the idea came from. He noticed Hermione scowling at the three seductive Slytherins from the corner of his eye. Before he could get a word in edgewise, Professor McGonagall entered the room carrying what looked to be an ornate bowl filled with a strange substance. Harry felt a certain power radiating from it. He had no idea what it had to do with the course material, but he couldn't help but feel that this was going to be a most eventful lesson.

Chapter Seventeen: Copa Anima - Pain and Pleasure Mixed

Warning: This chapter contains some mild sexual content. Nothing explicit, nothing sufficient to warrant an
NC-17 rating. However, for anybody who is offended by that sort of stuff, this is your warning to turn back now.

Disclaimer: If you've seen it before, it belongs to J.K. Rowling. Otherwise, it's mine. Naturally, I'm making no money off this.

Harry watched with an abnormally keen level of interest as his Head of House gently placed the bowl on her desk and turned to regard the class.

"Good morning, students. The fact that you are here indicates that each of you have earned a score of Exceeds Expectations or higher on your Transfiguration OWL. Congratulations to you all. However, the real test begins today..."

Despite his honest effort, Harry found himself unable to concentrate on McGonagall's lecture, due entirely to the buxom distraction situated most comfortably close to him. He closed his eyes for a second as Blaise moved closer to him, causing her twin globes to slide down his arm and come to a stop just above his elbow. Her satin school robes were thinner than most nightgowns, and he imagined that they had to be charmed to be opaque. And she wasn't wearing a bra. His eyes fluttered back open and he gasped slightly, now aware of the girl's head resting gingerly on his shoulder. Several of the male students in the class were sending him jealous glares, and Hermione looked to be mere microseconds from exploding. McGonagall beat her to it.

"...If Miss Zabini would please be so kind as to desist in blatant molestation of Mister Potter, perhaps we might be able to begin with the lesson!"

Blaise rolled her eyes and detached herself from Harry with a visible pout, though she remained close enough that he could feel her body heat. He wondered how in the world she had ever been sorted into Slytherin. Still, there was obviously more to her than the flirtatious attitude that she presented. And regardless, Pansy Parkinson was far more shameless than Blaise. At least the far prettier girl could choose a suitable target for her attentions.

"Whatever, no need to be such a prude about it..."

"Twenty points from Slytherin, Miss Zabini. And ten from Gryffindor, Potter. I should expect proper classroom etiquette from NEWT-level students. Now, as I was trying to say before being so rudely interrupted, the Headmaster has instructed the staff to devote its undivided attention to teaching defense techniques, in light of the dangers lurking outside of these walls..."

Harry could almost feel Malfoy's superior smirk despite being unable to see his face. McGonagall continued before he could make some inane comment.

"...And before I continue, I would like to ask whether or not anybody in the class can identify this bowl and its contents, as well as their use."

Harry had no clue, naturally. He had no time to waste on reading about a bunch of esoteric artifacts, though he couldn't deny that he was curious about it. A quick glance at Hermione revealed that she was equally stumped. Seeing no response forthcoming, the severe instructor answered her own question.

"Very well, then. This is the Copa Anima, a dish filled with the composite physical essence of every living creature, magical or otherwise, presently known to wizardkind. It allows one with magical blood to make a sort of mental connection with their potential Animagus form, should he or she have one..."

Hermione's hand went into the air, to the amazement of nobody in the room.

"Professor, is it even possible for somebody to have a magical creature as their Animagus form?"

"Yes, Miss Granger, though it is very uncommon. You see, the Animagus form is decided by a sort of sympathetic link between the wizard and the animal. That is why you will often invariably find that the creature form has certain traits that could be attributed to the person behind it..."

Harry immediately thought of Peter Pettigrew and nodded to himself.

"...However, the form requires a certain level of magical energy to create and maintain. Since normal fauna have little to no magic in their blood, with the noted exception of the owl, the wizard needs only a marginal level of power in order to make the transformation. Magical creatures are quite the opposite. Their blood is composed of nearly pure magic and thus only a considerably powerful wizard would be able to potentially make the transformation. Aside from that, magical creatures are notoriously fickle in their sympathies. As you might imagine, the odds of a wizard having enough inherent traits in common with a magical creature to forge the required link and also being powerful enough to initiate the change are very small. There has not been a magical creature Animagus in centuries. Are there any other questions?"

Terry Boot had one.

"So, any magical person can theoretically become an Animagus, then? It has nothing to do with actual power?"

Professor McGonagall smiled slightly.

"That is correct, Mister Boot, as long as the wizard is able to focus his magical core sufficiently to initiate the transformation. However, to do just that requires extensive mental training, and not just anybody can muster the level of awareness necessary to complete it. Every wizard has a potential Animagus form. In some cases, one can have too much magical power. This is why you will note that the Headmaster is not an Animagus, and neither is the Dark Lord to the best of our knowledge. Simply put, their potential animal forms, whatever they may be, are not sturdy enough to house their enormous magical energy. While perhaps literally able to undergo the process, they would do so at the very real risk of their own physical destruction."

That made some level of sense to Harry, as he wondered if he was also too powerful to maintain a standard animal form. It couldn't hurt to at least look and see what his form might be, though. McGonagall proceeded to explain that each student in the class would come up to the front of the room and look into the dish, and that everybody would attempt to begin working on the Animagus transformation for the next month. After that, those that had the talent to complete the process would focus on doing so, while the rest would begin working through a rigorous curriculum of dueling transfigurations. Animagus or otherwise, everybody in the class would be running on all cylinders.

Malfoy was the first to be called up, sitting in a front corner of the classroom. He dish seemed to emanate with a strange red glow as he peered down into the liquid. After a few moments he stalked back to his desk, his pointed face burning crimson with rage. He had obviously taken offense to whatever he had seen reflected in the Copa Anima. Other students were called up in turn, while Harry absently chatted with Hermione about the potential uses of the Animagus transformation. As soon as McGonagall became visibly engrossed in the process, Blaise sidled up into Harry again, effectively diverting his attention. He turned to regard the delicious Slytherin with a lazy grin.

"Making yourself comfortable, are you?"

"I don't see any reason not to. Besides, I don't hear you complaining too loudly."

She nestled herself into him a bit tighter. Hermione had her eyes closed and seemed to be doing everything in her power not to cause a scene during class. Harry had no doubts that had been out in the corridor or anywhere but in the middle of a lesson, the Muggleborn witch would already be engaged in a full fit of righteous fervor. He sincerely hoped that her anger stemmed from indignation rather than jealousy. Harry really did not want Hermione to have any sort of crush on him. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Calm down, Hermione. It's not a big deal."

Hermione's cinnamon brown eyes snapped open and glared at Harry. She spoke in a soft tone, but one that conveyed every bit of the anger that she was feeling. He couldn't help but be reminded of Professor Snape.

"Of course it's a big deal! You already have a steady girlfriend, Harry! You shouldn't just be letting that little succubus work her wiles on you! It's completely shameless!"

Blaise's soft coo answered Hermione, the former leaning against Harry's shoulder again.

"Are you jealous, Granger? You've had what, over five years to make a move?"

"Harry is my friend, you indecent hussy!"

"Then what's your problem? I swear, I don't carry disease or anything."

"Go and tell that to his girlfriend, Zabini!"

Harry just leaned back and let them have it out. As long as they didn't start physically fighting or talking loud enough to bring down the Wrath of Minerva, he could quite happily enjoy the show. He supposed it was rather crass of him to derive pleasure out of two girls fighting over him, even if one wasn't doing so out of any romantic interest. Some of the other members of the class were willing spectators as well, though McGonagall remained busy observing students at the front and taking notes. Tracey and Daphne both seemed poised to jump on Hermione, and Malfoy was glaring daggers at Harry. The roll invariably reached the rear row of the classroom, and McGonagall's voice again rang out.

"Zabini, come up to the front now, please."

Blaise rose to her feet with an almost catlike grace. She made to head up to the front as requested, but instead put her hands on either side of Harry's head, pulling the taller boy upright and kissing him full on the lips. He cocked an eyebrow as she moved her mouth around on his, capturing his chin and nose, as well as parts of his cheeks in the process. She finally let him go, visibly licking across his mouth as they parted. Harry felt, for lack of a better term, sticky as she sauntered up to a scandalized and sputtering Professor McGonagall. Blaise had obviously been wearing lip gloss, and she had left it all over him. He received some muffled cheers from some of the other boys, and both of Blaise's two friends looked positively smug. Hermione shot him a scathing look, to which he simply responded with a shrug. It wasn't as if he had initiated any of it, though he couldn't deny that he had enjoyed it. She huffed and rather abrasively wiped the mess from his face with a spare piece of parchment.

"Honestly, Harry! You can be such a male sometimes! You're just as bad as Ron!"

Harry glanced over to the front of the room and saw that Blaise was just finishing up at the bowl and was talking to McGonagall. Knowing that he was due to go up next, he decided to leave Hermione with a parting shot.

"I would think that my being more like Ron would make you disposed to liking me even better..."

Hermione blushed crimson and opened her mouth to retort, but was cut off by the instructor.

"Potter, you're up."

Harry stood up and winked at Hermione before trudging up to the front of the room. He winced slightly when Blaise indulgently grabbed his rear when they passed by one another. Malfoy stared hard at him as he reached the front, though Harry completely ignored the boy. McGonagall smiled at him as he reached her position. He looked down into the Copa Anima. The liquid was almost like blood, except that it had a somewhat translucent quality.

"Looks quite appetizing..."

"You know, Potter, were I not so eager to see what exactly your form will be, I just might have kicked you out of the classroom for that little episode with Miss Zabini."

"She is rather forceful, isn't she? Though I do pity her in the event that my girlfriend should somehow come to hear of it. And myself as well, mind. That Chinese temper can be quite dreadful."

"Indeed. I trust that your relationship with Miss Chang won't impair your performance during Gryffindor's opening match against Ravenclaw, Potter?"

"Perish the thought, Professor McGonagall."

"That's what I want to hear. I've become quite attached to having that trophy in my office. Now, concentrate and look down into the dish."

Harry complied, focusing his magical energy and gazing pointedly down into the Copa Anima. The clear bloody liquid hissed and boiled as he stood there. He could almost feel a presence clawing at his mind, attempting to draw out the animal within. But nothing appeared in the bowl. He knew roughly how long the process should take from absentmindedly observing the other students, and he was overdue for an answer. The liquid started to glow as he forced more of his power outward, trying to forge a connection from his end as well. At last he saw a misty outline of a great bird soaring ominously through the heavens. No other features were discernible. Harry was forced to break off the connection, as the liquid within the bowl was becoming increasingly volatile and he had no desire to cause an explosion.

"Well, what did you see?"

Harry might have been tempted to lie and thus avoid letting his Head of House know about the entire affair, but found his mind a bit too muddled after the strain to really consider it.

"I'm not entirely sure. An outline of some bird, but nothing really solid."

McGonagall frowned.

"That shouldn't be possible. The Copa Anima contains the essence of every known creature, extinct or otherwise, that magical society has ever known of. No matter what your form is, it by all means should have been reflected in the bowl."

Privately, Harry had the idea that perhaps his form didn't exist in the human realm. He had demonic blood flowing through him, so it was very possible that his animal counterpart could be found in that plane of existence. He would thumb through his ancestor's demonology tomes when he had the time and inclination. He couldn't just speak of this to McGonagall, though. His dakaathi heritage was not something that he wanted the old man to find out about.

"Perhaps there's something out there that hasn't been discovered?"

"Doubtful, but still possible. Allow me some time to look into the matter further. Perhaps the Headmaster will have some helpful insight concerning the subject. We'll discuss it during our next class session. You may return to your seat."

Harry nodded and returned to his seat, as Hermione was called up to the front of the class to replace him. She would be the last student to look into the bowl. Harry had a splitting headache from his own encounter with the artifact. Needless to say, he was no longer in the mood to humor Blaise, though she still happily slid right onto him as soon as he retook his place at the back of the room. He didn't really mind the contact, but he could just as easily do without it.

"Are you okay, Harry? You aren't looking so hot."

"Headache..."

"Poor baby. Here, let me make it better..."

The next thing Harry knew, his head was resting upon Blaise's bust. Warm and soft as the rather large makeshift cushions were, they did make him feel slightly better. He just lay there as Hermione retook her seat, almost being able to sense her glare upon both himself and Blaise, and tuned out the rest of McGonagall's lecture. He could get the homework assignment from somebody else later. Soon enough, she dismissed the class and Harry was practically dragged to his feet by Hermione.

"What are you doing, 'Mione?"

"Getting you away from this vixen before she tempts you into doing something you'll regret."

Harry simply allowed himself to be led away, not really having the energy to protest. Hermione was of course unaware of how much he had already done with Blaise Zabini, and with her two friends as well. And he hadn't regretted it in the slightest then. Quite the opposite, he still had aims on finishing their little tryst when the opportunity presented itself. But for the moment, all that he was looking forward to was a decent nap. The Slytherin beauty took his other hand, halting him in his tracks. She came up close to him again, whispering into his ear.

"Before you go, Harry, I just want you to know something. I like you a lot, and I want you all for myself. I don't care a single bit that you have a girlfriend already. I'm not afraid of a challenge, and I've tangled with rivals far more lethal than that pampered little Ravenclaw princess. I don't back down from even the nastiest of Slytherin girls. I stole a seventh year's boyfriend when I was in third, and I wasn't even all that interested in him."

Harry only shook his head with amusement despite the pain. If Blaise thought that she was going to just steal him away for herself, Cho was only the lesser half of her concerns, the other being a trained assassin who would have no compunction about cutting the Slytherin's throat. Besides, nothing of the sort was going to happen. Blaise was extremely hot and dynamite in the sack, but Harry honestly had no deeper feelings for her.

"I'll...keep that in mind, Blaise."

"You do that. Catch you around."

Blaise kissed Harry on the cheek and left the classroom, followed by Daphne and Tracey. The other two girls also smiled sweetly at him upon passing by. Harry glanced over to Hermione, whose anger had yet to subside.

"I think I'm going to head back up to the Tower. I need a nap."

"I'm going up to the library for a few hours. I have History of Magic this afternoon and I want to review my summer notes."

"Maybe I should go with you. I'll get a much better sleep with bloody Binns than I ever would in the dorms..."

"Language, Potter."

Harry snorted.

"You sound too much like Cho. See you at dinner, Hermione."

With that, Harry turned and left for his waiting four poster, and fell into a lucid sleep.

Late that Friday evening, Harry emerged from the Whomping Willow passageway inside the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade. He had tentatively promised to make a visit to Hitomi's new place down in the village and was going to make good on it. Ironically, he enlisted one of the people that he would least want to know of his reasons for the trip to provide his cover story. According to the official story, he had stayed up late tutoring Cho in advanced defense techniques and had fallen asleep on her couch in the Head Girl's private dormitory. He had told her that he would be attending to some business that required him to leave the castle. Cho had seemingly accepted the story at face value, pleased that he had trusted her to run interference for him, as opposed to Ron or one of the other Weasleys. They had also made arrangements to meet up in the Room of Requirement tomorrow afternoon finally discuss the formation of Harry's battle unit.

Though McGonagall's lesson had been his most interesting classroom experience of the week, the others weren't far behind. Looking back, Harry had to admit that he had erred somewhat in estimating that continuing his studies at Hogwarts would be a complete waste of time. Even Moody's introductory lecture was an adventure. The terminally paranoid ex-Auror periodically fired hexes at random students as he spoke in his growling voice. Nothing more dangerous than light Stunners, but the instructor read the proverbial Riot Act to anybody who was caught unprepared and hit. Knowing to expect the unexpected from Moody, Harry had been wearing his armor and the Banishing Spell sent his way early into the lesson bounced away harmlessly after hitting his left bracer. At the end of the class, he had given each student a slip of parchment with instructions on where to report for the next week's lesson, charmed so that the information could not be shared with classmates, a mild variation of the Fidelius Charm.

His Muggle weapons training course was likewise eventful. The instructor was Professor Bashilov, the large Slavic man who Harry could absently recall being somewhat less than impressed with him during that first morning meal back at the castle. The behemoth apparently took a somewhat Snapian view of Harry, in that he saw him as a spoiled media prince who played at being a man. When they walked into the class, he was brandishing a huge double-ended battle-ax. The first order of business had been to have each student choose a weapon to work with. The weapons rack only had heavy European weapons to choose from, so Harry chose a standard long sword. He could adapt whatever he learned to his kodachi with little trouble, or he could simply have a larger sword forged for him if necessary. Ron, who was also in the class, chose a heavy ball and chain. The rest of the lesson had been devoted to a grueling physical exercise regimen, to build strength and stamina for future training. Bashilov had been given Harry grudging praise for being one of the very few with anything left at the end.

The only other item worth noting was Quidditch. Harry had made significantly more progress at the Chaser position with a live Keeper to practice against, though Ron could hardly be described as being at his best in the early morning. The extra drilling improved the redhead's play also, and Gryffindor team's goaltending was beginning to change from a glaring weakness to a marginal strength. The twins also revealed a set of slightly charred, but still very usable racing brooms at the team meeting, spoils from the battle on the train. Apparently while most of the student body was listening to Harry chew out Dumbledore's hide at the front, Fred and George remained at the rear and took the opportunity to nick the fallen Death Eaters' broomsticks. With the twins back on the team, a blossoming Keeper, a lesser loss of talent in the Chaser line than anticipated, and a new set of brooms acquired at the Dark Lord's personal expense, Gryffindor's continued domination on the pitch seemed to be assured.

But such thoughts were far from Harry's mind as he stepped into the central square of Hogsmeade. Charmed lampposts added only dim illumination to the area in the dead of night. There was but one main road of egress, branching off in the direction of Hogwarts. A smattering of wizards and witches milled about, mostly coming to and from The Three Broomsticks pub. This was where Voldemort would be coming to await him on Halloween. Harry couldn't even fathom the Dark Lord's thinking, waltzing right into enemy territory on a gamble. Of course, the smart odds were that the entire letter was a ruse meant to lure Harry into an ambush. Or at least, it could easily become one should he refuse Voldemort's offer. This would be an ideal place for such a stratagem, with only a few potential routes to escape through. Voldemort had nothing to lose in this endeavor, really. He could always signal a withdrawal if Harry saw through the ploy and brought along a powerful escort. The most prudent move would be just to ignore the letter, perhaps letting either the Ministry or the old man know so that Hogsmeade would be properly secured that night.

But as Harry mulled the thought over, leaning against a sign in front of a closed shop, a more daring idea came to him. It would be ridiculously risky, but the potential payoff was equally great. It was a trap, and he knew that it was a trap, but perhaps he could thwart it armed with that knowledge. If he could turn Voldemort's own plot against him and kill the serpentine wizard, it would end the first phase of his overall scheme, which was routing the Dark Lord and his army, without an ounce of bloodshed. After all, the best way to kill a snake was to lop off the head. He would then have his entire army completely intact and still hidden from general knowledge, leaving him free to plan his next move. The only issue was whether or not he was actually powerful enough to take Voldemort head on. He had nearly lost his life against Bellatrix on the train, after all.

But all those details could be ironed out later on. Noticing a number of Japanese characters in front of a nearby shop, Harry resumed his trek. The door was unlocked. He was apparently expected. He took a moment to admire some of the patterns on display. They were nice, but he liked his own collection of exotic robes better. They had certainly remodeled the place quickly enough. The interior was strikingly similar to that of Kenzo's home back in the village. He had not often seen any of the Shinn Kohaku doing magic in the traditional sense, so the work likely hadn't been done that way.

Harry prowled up the stairs, making every attempt to keep himself concealed. He doubted that he would actually be able to sneak up on the establishment's two occupants, but it would be good practice nonetheless. He didn't make it very far. The room immediately across from the stairway was Kenzo's. The old village leader was sitting on his futon, reading by candlelight. His head snapped up the moment that Harry was able to see him. The elderly Japanese man just pointed with his thumb to a room down the hall with a wry grin. Harry returned it with a nod and went on his way. Quite an understanding fellow Kenzo was.

[Content removed

"You really should just move in with us, you know. Grandpa wouldn't mind."

"Speaking of whom, I hope we didn't keep him up too late last night..."

"Oh, don't worry about him. He has over seventy years in the clan behind him. Sleepless nights are a common thing for him."

They kept up the small talk during their bath. She made him wait as she dressed, and went downstairs to get him a spare robe from the shop. Once he was dressed, she sent him down the hall into the small kitchen to chat with her grandfather while she cleaned up their bedroom. Kenzo had cooked, a full breakfast of sausage, eggs, and hash browns. Hitomi may not have taken well to greasy Western food, but the old village leader had no such difficulties. Harry expressed his thanks and loaded up a plate.

"I believe that I should say welcome home, young lord."

"Certainly feels more like it than that drafty old castle."

"Indeed. Hitomi complains about the school constantly. Though it was her idea to apply for a teaching position."

"Did you agree with her decision?"

"I did, in as much that it would be of use to have an operative within the school faculty."

"Perhaps, but I worry about the old man finding her out."

Kenzo nodded in the negative.

"Do not concern yourself. She is very skilled at keeping her cover."

At that point, Hitomi came into the room with Harry's things bound into a tight bundle. She handed over his masterpiece wand and set the rest on the kitchen table, taking a seat next to Harry and leaning up against him. That surprised him somewhat. During the month at the village, she had always been very reserved about showing him any affection in front of her grandfather. It was almost as if being intimate in front of her only family was a line that she wasn't yet ready to cross then. She wrinkled her brow at the sight of the heavy English meal on the table.

"Grandpa! I've told you a hundred times not to eat this sludge. It's bad for your heart."

"I am an old man, Hitomi, and I will eat whatever I like."

"But it tastes so horrible..."

"To you, perhaps. My apologies, you must have quite an appetite after last night's exercise."

Harry conveniently tuned out the resulting banter, and they both noticed.

"Don't let him bother you, Harry. He's just a perverted old goat."

"Yes, an old goat that wants a full load of great-grandchildren to spoil in his declining years. Neither of you have anything to be embarrassed about."

Harry laughed loudly despite himself. During his time in the village, their attitude at the table and elsewhere had always seemed to stiff and formal, as if they had felt some obligation to show complete decorum for a guest in their home. Maybe this was how they acted alone, and the fact that they did so in front of him meant that they regarded him more as family than as an outsider. It felt rather nice. He looked out the window and noticed a lot of small bodies milling about the Hogwarts grounds in the distance. He then glanced over at a clock on the wall. It was nearing time for lunch at the school. He had to get back before people started getting suspicious.

"I've really enjoyed visiting here, but I really need to get back up to the castle. I'm only out of bounds on a shaky alibi as it is."

Kenzo smiled.

"Understood. But please do come and visit us as often as you can. My poor granddaughter is always beside herself without you around."

Harry shook his head with amusement.

"I certainly will. Take care, both of you."

He rose to leave, and Hitomi followed him downstairs. The shop was still closed, and a few customers were waiting outside. She leaned in and whispered something into his ear as he opened the front door.

"One last thing, Harry. You'll have to tell me all about that girl from last week's newspapers the next time you visit."

(End Chapter Seventeen)

Author's Note: Well, not the best chapter I've done, but at least Harry's weekly routine is mostly set. Things will start moving a bit faster here directly. I couldn't get much action into this chapter, but I'll have some in the next. Serious battle scenes like the one on the train will be few and far between, but allow me to guarantee that the things I have planned for Halloween will make the wait worthwhile.

I might have had a few other things to comment on here, but I'm honestly too tired. I have this terrible habit of finishing chapters late at night. Later everybody, and don't forget to review.

And a few extra notes, now that I'm awake and recharged myself. First, I can already see that some people are getting averse to all the sex. Honestly, so am I. However, there has been a reason behind all of it. The scenes earlier in the work were to sort of develop Harry as a character and let him sow his oats, so to speak. The last two were to bring some final definition to what each of his two chosen mates mean to him. I'll leave it to you to figure out what that means, but I think I've made it obvious enough. Now that I've finished with that, there won't be much more of the raunchy stuff for a good while, as I'm going to back off the romantic front for the most part and plunge fully into preparing Harry's forces and getting him personally ready for the coming ordeal on Halloween night. That has been the plan all along, so those of you that are getting averse to his screwing around all the time, have no fear.

Second, Harry's Animagus form, if I choose to have him develop one, will not, and I repeat, WILL NOT be any sort of Phoenix. That has to be one of the most overused plot devices in existence, and I absoultely refuse to employ it. Hope this helps those of you who have yet to read the chapter. I have an idea in mind that I think most of you will enjoy.