Review Responses:

Nataly S. Potter: You're right; Ron and Hermione are going to go to a different University than Harry. Don't worry about errors in English, out of curiosity, what is your first language? Thank you for reviewing.

MinorMistake99: As always, your review is amusing, lol, and I'm sorry for not updating sooner. My computer is being stupid and the internet wasn't working, so I couldn't even check my e-mail. Well, here's the first chapter of Harry's journey to Bulgaria, I hope it doesn't disappoint.

Sephiroth1991: A good idea, but I'm not sure if he'll appear at Zotzion, but perhaps somewhere else...

One Phoenix: Thank you very much for your support, I'm happy to know that someone is reading my stories!

Chapter 11: Sofia, Bulgaria

Harry spent quite a few hours at the muggle library looking up information on Bulgaria and—as he found out—its capital, Sofia. He looked up everything from its history to its current weather, and even found a few common phrases in the Bulgarian language, which he practiced; no doubt his accent was atrocious. Remus helped him find a bookstore in a magical community shopping center that sold history books on countries, but there weren't many on Bulgaria; nevertheless, Harry bought one of each.

Ron and Hermione were searching for a University, but the only one they'd found so far was in another city: Kurdzhali, which was just above the southern border, in the Rhodope Mountains area. As the first day went by, Harry studied all he could about Bulgaria, and visited a magical travel agency that would give him a portkey to Zotzion. He'd gotten several funny looks from the travel agent who assisted him, and he had no doubt that the looks would have been turned to ones of horror if he'd shown his scar. He could already see the headlines: Boy-Who-Lived Goes To University of Dark Magic! Merlin, how he hated being famous...

Imagination-overuse aside, Harry grew nervous the closer the time came for him to leave. Remus had found a few things in the Charter that he thought Harry should be aware of, namely that he would be bound by Oath not to reveal any secrets he'd learned until he'd graduated, his times to be off campus grounds would be restricted, and punishments would be harsh if he broke any of the rules. Wonderful, he groaned inwardly, listening to Remus recite all the rules the Charter had spoken of. Harry packed his bags the night before his departure, hands shaking slightly as his books, clothes, and equipment shrank and tucked themselves away neatly. How would he resist the lure that the Dark Arts cast out? That trapped so many people? Was it even a good idea? Going where someone who followed Voldemort had gone and graduated from? How could he trust Diega's judgment? I can't, he thought angrily, but I can trust Dumbledore's, can't I? He graduated, and he's—well, he was the greatest Light wizard ever! These thoughts comforted him a little, but only enough to allow him to fall into a restless sleep, rather than a nightmare-filled one.

Harry tossed and turned in his sleep until at last he was woken by a soft voice. "Harry...Harry, you should wake up, your portkey activates in two hours."

The young wizard shot up in bed, hair extremely mussed and emerald eyes bleary. "Wha-? Two hours?" he rubbed at his eyes, fighting the urge to sleep more. "That'd mean it's..." he fumbled for his glasses and looked at the clock: it read six o'clock. He yelped, throwing off the sheets. "Calm down," Remus urged with a slight chuckle, "You have plenty of time. You packed last night, remember?"

Rushing to his nearly-empty dresser, Harry snatched at the clothing he'd left out for today. "But I promised Ron and Hermione and the Weasleys that I'd say good-bye!" he said.

Remus smiled. "Don't worry, they're coming in an hour."

Harry froze, an arm going through the neck-hole of his shirt. He blinked. "You mean Ron's actually waking up that early?"

The older wizard laughed, and soon Harry began laughing too. The red-head's favor of sleeping in until noon whenever possible was a well-known fact, and the image of him waking up was an amusing one. "I believe Molly threatened him," Remus said once they'd both calmed down. "Now come on, get dressed and let's get some breakfast."

So as Harry changed into his clothes at an easier pace, Remus got breakfast ready. Harry could have closed his eyes and just followed his nose to the kitchen if he'd wanted to. Breakfast was a meal large enough that was Mrs. Weasley-worthy: waffles, sausage, bacon, eggs, toast, oatmeal, juice, and milk. Despite the lump in his throat, Harry managed to eat a little bit of everything, and a little more with Remus' cajoling. It would be a far trip, and who knew if he'd get time to eat upon his arrival. When they were half way through their meal, there was a ring at the door. "I'll get it," Harry offered, jumping up from his chair. As he went to the door, the doorbell sounded three more times. When he opened the door, he found Mr. Weasley enthusiastically pressing it a fifth time, with Hermione trying to explain to him that it wasn't very polite to ring it more than once.

"Hi," Harry greeted with a smile, "Thanks for coming."

"Not at all dear," Mrs. Weasley said, stepping in to give him a bone-crushing hug. Harry returned it, despite the lack of oxygen in his lungs. "We're having breakfast," he told them, "There's more if you'd like to join us." So the Weasleys and Hermione followed him to the kitchen, where Remus enlarged the table and got out more plates and silverware. The meal was a joyful one spent talking, laughing, and eating, though there was a slight anxiousness in the air. All too soon, it was ten until eight and Harry had to get his things and said his good-byes. "We'll owl you as soon as we get into a University," Hermione promised quietly, hugging him tightly.

"Yeah, as soon as we get into one," Ron agreed, his voice rough as he clasped his best friend's hand firmly.

"Thanks," Harry replied softly.

"You let us know if anything is wrong, okay dear?" Mrs. Weasley said tearfully, hugging him again. "You know you're always welcome back at the Burrow, you're family, Harry."

"And I can't thank you enough for that." He replied. He said good-bye to the older Weasley males and then the twins and Ginny.

"Bring back some new prank ideas, alright?"

He smiled. "Will do."

Ginny kissed him on the cheek, causing Harry to blush as the others watched. "Be careful," she said. "I'll send my letters with Ron and Hermione, and tell you how...how it is at Hogwarts."

Harry said, "I'd like that."

Remus shook his hand before pulling him into a tight hug. "Be careful Harry," he whispered, "But don't worry. You'll do fine. You're a powerful wizard, those Arts won't know what hit them."

"Thank you," Harry replied softly to keep his voice from cracking. Remus had given him a home, a family, and all the support he could ever need, and now he'd be leaving that here in this house. "You keep Tonks on her toes," he said teasingly, trying to lighten the mood. There were a round of grins and weak chuckles.

Just as Harry grabbed his back and portkey, the clock struck seven, its gonging echoing the pull of the portkey. Harry felt a jerk behind his navel and all too soon his home and family disappeared. It felt as if he was spinning around and around in violent circles. Buildings, streets, rivers, forests, mountains, and swamps rushed by him, never staying for longer than half a second, the smearing colors and blending temperatures making him rather nauseated. At long last, his portkey came to an abrupt halt in the middle of a lobby with various doors and halls leading off from different sides. Bewildered, he looked around, and couldn't find any sign showing him which direction to go. There were other people walking briskly through the room and halls, no one seemed to notice him. He spotted a wizard whom looked like a security guard and walked over. "Um, excuse me?" he called, but the wizard didn't seem to hear him. "Excuse me?" he repeated.

The wizard abruptly walked away to aid an elderly witch who was boarding what looked like a train leading off from a hallway containing a boarding platform. Growing frustrated, Harry walked over to another individual. "Excuse me? Can you help me find-" He stopped abruptly as a crowd passed in front of him, blocking him from view. There was a tap on his shoulder and Harry turned around, finding himself looking at a young man a few years older than himself with hair such a dark brown it was nearly black, a slight beard on his chin, and amber eyes.

"You are...foreign?" the wizard asked, a thick accent making his English hard to understand.

Harry nodded. "Yes."

"You ought to go to the agency," he pointed to a hall marked with blue lettering Harry couldn't read. "They are able to help with...language. Where are you going?"

"A University," Harry replied.

He raised an eyebrow. "You do not look like one who attends Zotzion." Harry merely shrugged, uncomfortable with answering.

"Thanks for your help," he said simply, the wizard nodded and disappeared in the next crowd.

Harry went over to the agency hall and was greeted by a Bulgarian witch. "I'm from London, England," Harry said, "I was told that you could help me."

The witch smiled. "Ah, yes, please, follow me." She led him to a small office. "Welcome to Sofia, the capital of the Republic of Bulgaria. Here the common currency is Lev, and the language is Bulgarian, as is obvious. If you need, we can offer you a quick series of lessons in the Bulgarian language and culture."

"Um, no thanks, I need to find a train." Harry answered.

"May I see your ticket?"

"Erm, well, all I have is a letter of acceptance." He replied hesitantly. "You see, I'm going to the University."

"Ahh, I see, well, in that case, the transportation to Zotzion is leaving in five minutes, and is seven halls down on the right, you can see the school crest on the archway."

Harry's eyes widened. FIVE MINUTES! "Thank you for your help," he said breathlessly and rushed out of the hall. Lucky me, he growled to himself as more floods of people came out of various halls and stations. He did his best to be polite as he nudged his way through the crowd, searching frantically for the archway the agency witch had described. Precious seconds were lost as he stood on tip toe to try and see over the heads of the rather tall Bulgarians. As he passed a clock, he saw that he had one minute, and renewed his efforts to get through the crowd. Harry began to sweat slightly as he fumbled through the crowds and halls. With a sigh of relief, he spotted the Zotzion rest and made his made towards it. Someone's foot caught his ankle just as he made it there and he fell, slamming his hand against a stone column and splitting his lip on the hard marble floor. With a groan, he got to his feet, wiping the drops of blood off the floor before going through the station door. The train was black with the Zotzion crest on the doors...which were closing!

"Wait!" Harry called, rushing forward. He managed to slip in just before the opening got too small, but his robe got caught in the process. Grumbling under his breath, Harry jerked the hem free, tearing it as he did so. With a roll of his eyes, Harry summoned the scrap of cloth to him and pocketed it; he'd fix it later. To his surprise, there were practically no other people on the train. He found an empty compartment—which wasn't that hard—and sat, watching through the window as the city landscape rolled by. A pity I didn't get a chance to look around, he thought to himself. He was just getting to like the mountainous scenery when the window abruptly blacked out. "What?" he yelped, trying to see through the black screen. "What's going on?" But whether or not someone heard him, he got no answer. With a sigh, Harry settled himself back in his seat and pulled out a book on Bulgarian art.

For several hours the train traveled, and Harry could hear the pattering of rain, and feel the icy chill on the window, but he couldn't see out. These people must be really paranoid about keeping their location secret, he mused. Suddenly, the train came to a sharp halt, throwing Harry—who'd been standing to stretch his legs—into the compartment door. He winced as the hard wood smacked his jaw and the doorknob jabbed into his stomach. The second jerk sent him tumbling backward into the window, where the frost chilled his neck and sent goose bumps rippling along his arms and legs. Rubbing his sore jaw, Harry left his compartment and joined the few others who were also on the train; none of them looked very friendly.

Upon exiting the train, Harry was surprised to find himself shivering. The cause, of course, was the snow on the ground the chill in the air: he was at the top of a mountain. He was unaware that he was gaping until someone's elbow clipped his side. He winced and glared at the person's back, but followed them up the iced stone staircase that led up to the campus grounds.

Harry did his best not to slip, shiver, or let his teeth chatter. He felt a bruise forming where his jaw had hit the door, and on his hand where he'd hit the column near the station entrance. After several minutes of climbing, listening to the others speaking Bulgarian or other foreign languages, and nearly slipping and falling to his death, he reached level ground. A shadow loomed over him, tall and commanding: it was Zotzion.

(A/N: Sorry to leave you hanging like that, I promise there'll be more interesting activity in the next chapter, and Harry'll meet new people, and I won't take so long to update! Thank you for your patience, and please review! Sincerely, A.S.Leif)