Disclaimer: I told you all before, I don't own anything related to the Harry Potter franchise nor am I making any money off of this fic.

Chapter 7:

Rituals and Skill

The rest of the week flew by for Harry. #5 five helped him with the Occlumency training, and he was soon able to block the duplicate out completely with very little effort. Harry had spent much of his non-occlumency time mastering the spells he should have learned in school over the past five years. He had easily gone through his old Defense books, along with the extra ones he had gotten as gifts, and had been quite successful with Charms. Transfiguration was slightly more difficult, but nothing impossible. He had browsed through his potion books, but had not spent any time trying to actually make anything.

Harry had also begun to work with his sword. Using it by itself was easy enough, if not even easier than with his wand. Movements did not need to be as precise, if necessary at all. He also found that he had more power with those spells that he cast with it. The challenge came when he tried to use both his wand and sword at the same time. The first issue was physical ability. He could use his wand just fine in his right hand. He could use his sword just fine in his right hand. However, his left arm was weaker than his right and he felt clumsy using it to heft the blade. To counter this, he tried to use the blade in his right hand with the wand in the left, which allowed him to use the sword better, but he found it difficult to cast with his left hand. It was #4 who gave him some pointers when he brought up the issue with the others.

"Well, your best bet is to just start using your wand in your left hand for all things. It will get easier when you learn some wandless magic, then you can start casting with thought instead of incantation, which will allow you to be more effective when you learn how to wield both at the same time."

Harry had taken to reading his book on rituals and the book that came with his sword late into the night. He found that his sword, while built in the image of a muggle rapier, was actually sharpened magically so it could be used in a variety of ways. A normal rapier was generally only sharp at the point, seeing as how it was built to only stab people. However, seeing as wizards were incompetent in the subtleties of swordplay, it was magically hardened and the sides sharpened so as to an effective slashing weapon. It certainly would not cut through something like a metal pole, but human flesh and bone would probably not slow it down very much.

The only disruption that happened was on Friday night, when a package arrived from Remus containing the unique ingredients Harry needed for some of the rituals (though Tonk's blood was unsurprisingly missing from the package). It was #5 who took the letter and the components and told them that he would perform the ritual on Sunday, after everyone had left. They had, of course, protested, seeing as how they wanted to observe the effects of the ritual, but were eventually pacified.

Soon Sunday morning came, and the Harrys traded their numeric badges with each other so they could stay organized. With an excessively dramatic goodbye by #5, the four of them each put their time turner around their neck, turned it six times, and found themselves staring at Harry. The four had agreed that they would always call the Harry going through the first rotation of the week 'Harry' and everyone else would be called by the number they wore

Harry continued to follow his schedule, practicing with both of his weapons and memorizing spells. He also began to work on his wandless magic and Legilmency during the third week. He first started practicing on #2 to get the basics down, and towards the end of the week he would get to practice against #5. For his wandless abilities, he was progressing a bit slower than he had hoped, though the others assured him he was doing fine. By the end of the week he was able, with a fair amount of concentration and effort, turn the page of a book from across the room. While he was left feeling weak afterwards, he also felt like he had gotten stronger, as if his magic was working out. This, #5 explained to him, was probably not far from the truth. It wasn't until someone pointed it out to him did he realize that he was ahead of schedule; he hadn't planned on getting to wandless magic until the fifth rotation. He decided to ask #5 about it.

"Hey Five, how did we get off schedule?"

"Well Two, I suppose after my little demonstration during our first day, we just, I dunno, felt motivated, I guess. I don't know." To Harry, it sounded like #5 already knew what he was going to say.

"Oh, I see." A thought suddenly came to his head. "Haven't you had this conversation before?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, if your #5 told you what you told me, how did your #5 learn it if not from his #5?"

"I don't know, but do yourself a favor and try not to think about it."

"Right. Umm, why not?"

"Because its one of those chicken and the egg questions."

"I see, and did your #5 tell you that?"

"For your information, yes," he said rather defensively. "Now, what did I tell you about thinking about it?"

Harry just walked away shaking his head. 'Probably good advice, not thinking about it, that is. I wonder if I can get off not telling #2 that stuff when I become #5? But if I did that, then I wouldn't have told myself what I just heard, and then I wouldn't have just had that conversation and then that stuff Hermione mentioned might happen and this could get way too damn confusing.'

The days turned into weeks and soon he found himself at his fifth repetition of that week. It was only now that he had come to realize the price of the repetition of time travel: frustration. For Harry, it had been over a whole month of solid study and practice. To everyone else in the world, it had been a whole week. This was depressing enough. What made it worse was knowing that he had at least four more weeks in normal time before he was taken away to Grimmauld Place. Four weeks. Almost five months from Harry's perspective. All together he would be pushing six months if he counted the week he was just finishing up. He started to obsess about it until he remembered what his #5 had told him, though in a different context: Don't think about it.

Ironically, he was brought out of his musings by #2 who was asking something about why he was running ahead of schedule. Harry suppressed a grin as he answered, thinking back to when he was on the other end of that conversation. As much as he wanted to tempt fate, he went ahead and gave #2 the same advice #5 had given him.

As the fifth week came to a close, Harry felt he was really starting to improve. He felt as if his spells were stronger even though he was able to cast most of the spells he knew without the incantation. His wandless had improved significantly and was now able to do the candle lighting thing #5 did for him, though the more practical and relatively more difficult spells such as stunners and basic jinxes were still beyond his grasp. The apex of what he was trying to accomplish that week would happen Sunday after Harrys one through four went back into time..

While Harry had originally decided to perform two rituals that weekend, he ended up on focusing on only one as the prep time was greater than he anticipated. Both of the rituals he was considering were a class of rituals known as creature based rituals, where as the magic of the caster blended with the magical components used in the ritual to imbue the caster with magical properties based on those of the creatures the components came from. These were considered, morally at least, neutral. Legally, they were dark because of the risk of using them. Though neither one of them technically enhanced his magical power, they did help him in other ways. One of the rituals required a potion that contained the Pheonix tears and the Liensie wings. Once completed, he would have limited regenerative ability. Basically, if all went well and he didn't screw it up, minor cuts and bruises would heal up in a matter of minutes, while more serious wounds such as lacerations and broken bones would heal at an accelerated rate. It also would provide Harry immunity to most diseases, both magical and muggle.

The second ritual Harry planned on performing was more focused on stealth and hunting. This one required the werewolf hair, Shadowcat fur, and the Liensie wings. It would increase his strength and speed without making him physically bigger. It also improved his senses, including his mental awareness. The one aspect that excited Harry the most was, while generally not as all around useful as the other results, was the ability to blend in with shadows. It was similar to a disillusionment spell, but required darkness to use it. Also, unlike the disillusionment, it would allow Harry to move without being seen by such devices as Moody's eye. As soon as Remus' owl had arrived with the necessary ingredients, Harry had dragged a rather large cauldron into the chamber he and Dobby had set up in the trunk. As Harry sat there preparing the motion, he smiled at the thought of Dobby and his reaction to Harry's time travel scheme.

It would be an understatement to say the elf was surprised when five Harry's sat down at the dinner table that first night, but he had quickly become accustomed to it. Indeed, once Dobby got over the shock of seeing five of him, he seemed to get even more excited. Apparently, if serving one Harry Potter was an honor, than serving five was even better. Odd house elf logic.

Since then the elf had been a life saver, keeping everyone on track, in the right rooms, and following schedule. It was actually Dobby who had pestered Harry about starting on the potion for the ritual. Once the potion was completed, the ritual's procedure was rather straightforward, which surprised Harry. All he had to do was make the really complicated potion, learn how to draw a rune on himself perfectly, and memorize the rather long incantation in some obscure dialect, and he was ready!

Harry turned his attention back to brewing. Once the potion was ready, he would have to pour half of it into the rune that was carved into the floor. Then he would have to inscribe a rune onto his chest with some of the potion that was left. He would then perform the required spells, and, should everything go well, he would come out unscathed with some nice new abilities. If he screwed up, he would have a weird rune burned into his chest and most likely he would suffer some form of magical backlash and possibly strip himself of all magical ability. Harry had merely shrugged off the concerns that had formed it the back of his mind and had set to work. He wasn't sure when it happened, but he had started to consider himself a bit of a gambling man.

Harry added a few more ingredients and potion seemed to be almost finished. Noting that the color had turned an aqua blue, he pulled out the small vial of phoenix tears he had and added four drops. The liquid quickly bubbled and then turned and emerald green. He sighed in relief, he had made it successfully so far. There was only one more ingredient left to add. It was the one ingredient he wasn't too thrilled about adding, mainly due to his prior experience with it.

Pooling all his resolve, he pulled out a sharp knife Dobby had procured for him. Very carefully, he pierced the tip of his finger. He held his finger over the potion and allowed a few drops of blood to fall in. The potion seemed to sizzle as it turned from its emerald green to black.

He let out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding. The potion looked as the book described it. Of course, other things may have gone wrong, but that was unlikely. Wrapping his finger up, he conjured a cap for the cauldron. Luckily for him, the potion would remain potent for up to a week, though he would be using it in only a few days, which would give him time to practice the inscribing of the rune, which he would have to do with his wand, and memorize the incantation. It was going to be a long day. Wiping his hands on his robes, he headed back into the tent for dinner.

Saturday passed by in a blur as Harry used all the mental exercises he picked up on his rush to learn Occlumency to help focus his mind to memorize the ritual. He also had trouble drawing the appropriate rune on himself, which he practiced for hours on end with his wand, some mustard, and a mirror.

'And this is supposedly one of the simpler rituals in the book.' He though wryly as he had to erase the rune from himself as he accidently drew one of the rune lines five degrees off.

Indeed it was relatively simple, since it required only one potion and one rune. Others out there were far more complex requiring dozens of runes on both the body and the chamber, plus anywhere up to five potions. One of these rituals he actually wanted to attempt when he got back to Hogwarts. It wasn't so much as he needed Hogwarts resources, it was more that he needed the help of Hermione. The ritual, referred to in The Path to Power and the Ritual of Enoch, was an extremely complex, powerful, but inherently light power boosting ritual. It was also very picky. To use it successfully, the caster had to have some pre-existing condition for which the ritual could work off of. In this case, he had two. The blood protection left by his mother, though pretty much voided by Voldemort, still was there and could be utilized to enhance Harry's magical reserves with those of his now-dead mother. The second source of power that the ritual could draw on was the power that Voldemort had transferred to him almost fifteen years ago. The ritual would give an amazing boost in power, possibly bringing him up to a more competitive level. However, there were side effects.

The first was that he would be changed physically. Should the ritual unleash dark magics, it would start to disfigure the body into something more demonic. If it were to unleash light magics, say those given to him from his mothers blood protection, it would improve the body and make the person seem more angelic. Harry figured it would do one of two things: it would either do nothing, or he would be changed in both directions.

The second issue was the need of a Second. It had to be someone who Harry trusted completely, for a variety of reasons. The first was that while the simple rituals he was going to perform only required one, maybe two runes to be inscribes on himself, the Ritual of Enoch required almost one hundred, quite a few in hard to reach places like his back. The second was that the Caster of the ritual would have to use the Second as a point of reference for their mind. You see, the ritual would unleash an enormous amount of power at one time into the body and mind, and if the Caster did not have a Second to mentally latch onto, then the flood of power would drive the Caster insane, or worse, fry their brain, killing them. While this was all good and well, it presented some 'problems.' First of all, the Second would contain a fraction of his power, which wasn't so bad, but the second was that since the Caster had to make a mental connection to the Second, it gave the Second a small amount of control over the Caster. Not much, but if the Second really concentrated, they could force the Caster to follow one simple command. 'It would be best if Hermione did not know of that. She would either refuse to help or exploit it to keep me in line.' Either way, the result was not what Harry wanted. Luckily, he had a few months to figure out how to convince Hermione and find a way to negate this effect. It's not that Harry didn't trust Hermione not to abuse such power, its just that she was always so bloody concerned for his safety that she might use it at bad times. 'Or good times,' he thought sadly, thinking back to when she tried to stop him from going to the ministry.

Sunday soon rolled around and Harry got to say goodbye to his replicates. He was quite glad that the week was over, though a bit nervous about the ritual. Once this was done, he had to start work on the second one, though it was very similar to the first. Once the replicates had left back in time, Harry left the tent and went to the ritual chamber. The sooner he completed it, the better.

Before descending into the trunk, Harry made sure both the door to his room and his tent (where the trunk was currently held) was sealed. Once in the chamber, Harry turned to the task at hand. Carefully, Harry uncapped the cauldron and pulled it over to the center of the room. He carefully tipped it, pouring some of the black liquid into the rune carved into the floor, stopping when the liquid was level with the rest of the floor. He pulled off his shirt and conjured a mirror, dipped the tip of his wand into the liquid in the cauldron, and proceeded to trace the ritual rune on his chest. The rune was drawn upon his torso with practiced ease. He checked it in the mirror again before banishing the mirror. Taking the cauldron, he poured the remaining liquid into the four braziers in the room and lit the liquid with his wand.

He kneeled carefully over the rune on the floor, supporting himself on his knees and toes so as to not disturb the liquid in the rune beneath him.

He held his wand above him and began the incantation. The strange tongue now fell easily from his mouth after hours of practice and he could feel the magic gather around him. As he continued to chant, the flames in the braziers leaped into the air and sped towards him. The flames hit the rune beneath him and the liquid there caught fire, engulfing Harry in flames. Harry continued the chant as he felt the rune on his chest burn. In a flash, the flames burst, filling the whole room with fire. Then it stopped. The flames receded back to the braziers and Harry lowered his wand and took a look at his chest. The rune he had inscribed on himself was gone.

Not wanting to jump to conclusions, Harry decided to try it out. With a wave of his wand, he conjured a sharp piece of glass. He grabbed it and poked his finger with it. He watched in excitement as the blood quickly stopped and the wound healed itself right before his eyes. The ritual had been a success.

R-o-t-G-L-

Hermione wandered down Ruelle Verticale, the Paris version of Diagon Alley. It was all very exciting! Wizarding culture in France was quite a bit different than the British Wizarding culture. Apparently, the French muggle-born and half-blood wizards were involved in the French Revolution and had helped overthrow the great Pureblood families. Of course, some of the biases weren't completely wiped out. House elves were still enslaved and werewolves were still looked down upon, but not to the extent that they were in Britain.

Currently, Hermione was with her parents looking for a birthday gift for Harry. Normally she got him something practical, like a homework planner or a book, but this year she wanted to get him something special. It was, after all, going to be his sixteenth birthday.

"Mum, what do you think I should get him?" Hermione looked at her mother as she spoke.

"Well, you have known the young man for what, five years?" Hermione merely nodded in the affirmative. "How about something to celebrate your friendship, like a picture of you two or perhaps a locket?"

"A picture might be good, but a locket, mother? Its not like we're dating or anything."

"Of course not dear, you only talk about him all the time, and if you aren't talking about him, you're worrying about him, or both." Hermione just huffed in annoyance as her father joined in.

"Indeed. Every time you come home, it's Harry this or Harry that. If you two aren't dating then you should be," Mr. Granger said with a smirk and a conspiratorial wink to his wife.

"Dad! It's because he's my best friend, nothing more. And besides, he needs someone to worry about him, it's not like I can trust him to take care of himself!"

"Of course dear, of course." Anne Granger said in a very patronizing tone while she shared a small smile with her husband John. Hermione missed both.

"I still like the picture idea, though. Lets go see what the options are for magical frames." With that, Hermione walked off in search of a shop, with her parents following behind.

They entered a little store called Magasin de Photo de Warlocks. There were all sorts of frames. Some had legs and would walk around the table while others would whistle little tunes or change colors. Hermione picked out a hinged double frame with room for an engraving on the bottom. They spent a half-hour getting it customized. When it was done, Hermione was pleased. It was personal, but didn't insinuate anything beyond friendship. At least she hoped not. She couldn't help but also pick up something practical, so she got him a book on translation spells. When her mother asked about the choice of topic, she merely shrugged and replied that while defense books were more practical, she didn't want to remind him that an evil wizard was out to kill him by getting him one.

The next morning the Granger family was eating breakfast in their hotel room when the wizarding post came. A witch owned the hotel they were staying at and she provided her magical customers with a daily newspaper. Anne Granger, who had some knowledge of French, noticed the headline.

"Look, Hermione, there is something about the British ministry in the paper." Hermione grabbed the paper and looked at the headline.

Le Ministre Britannique a Déshonoré !

Le garçon qui a vécu et les associés exposent Voldemort au monde au ministère britannique.

"What does it say, mum?"

"Oh, something about the British Minister being disgraced and that your 'just a friend' Harry exposed Voldemort to the public. Again." Anne looked pointedly at her daughter. "So, Hermione, I believe it would be correct to assume that you know what was going on? I am, of course, interested in knowing what my daughter is doing going after dark lords, especially with a young man." Hermione shrank back in her chair. She always feared her parents pulling her out of Hogwarts because of the danger. They tended to be a bit overprotective of their only child. After all, it wasn't like she would ever have faced a troll or Death Eaters if she had gone to the nice muggle boarding school like she had planned before she got her Hogwarts letter.

"Well, mum, it's not what you think. You see, Harry really had to go, and its not like I was just going to let him go, and while I knew it was a trap he can be so stubborn sometimes. So I naturally had to go to make sure he stayed out of trouble and..." Hermione stopped as her parents broke out in laughter. She looked at them like they were mad before yelling at them. "What! You're not angry? Upset? More importantly, what is so funny!" It was her father who recovered first.

"Calm down Hermione. You see dear, we already know what happened, along with everything that happened during the past few years." Hermione looked terrified.

"Y-you know? How? Why didn't you say anything?" Now her mother spoke.

"What kind of headmaster do you take Mr. Dumbledore for Hermione? Of course he filled us in, we are your parents after all, even if we are muggles. And as for why we never mentioned it, we knew you were trying to keep it quiet. We decided that if you felt it was important enough to not inform us for fear that we would take you out of Hogwarts, then we would let it be."

"So you're not mad?"

"Mad? No. Disappointed that you didn't discuss it with us? A little, but we got over it. Now, enough of this depressing talk. What are we going to do today?"

R-o-t-G-L-

After he completed the first ritual, his training seemed to speed up and he quickly lost track of time. Very early on he noticed a most welcome side effect of the Ritual of Health. Besides regenerating wounds, it also regenerated the body as a whole, meaning that he technically didn't need sleep. Of course, he still required energy, so the trade off was that instead of three full meals a day, he had to have four. Dobby was, as always, happy to oblige. During the first week of Week Harry performed the second ritual. He spent much of the remainder of the week learning how to disappear into shadows and to test out his new strength and speed. This result of the ritual was more beneficial than he had predicted. With his magically enhanced strength, he found that he could easily use his sword in his left hand while keeping his wand in his right, therefore solving his off-hand difficulties. It was also that week that Remus came by for another visit. Harry, being the youngest and thus less likely to appear completely different to Remus was nominated to be the groups spokesperson.

"Its good to see you Remus." Harry greeted his friend as they sat down in the living room. Remus, however, was giving him an odd look. "What is it Remus?"

"You look different, Harry. I mean, I only saw you last week and it looks like it's been much longer than that! You're paler, a bit taller, though only barely, and your, well, more filled out." He then looked at Harry warily and raised his wand. "Its like you're a fake Harry." Harry merely let out an exasperated sigh.

"Ah, well, I have been busy. But I guarantee you, I am still Harry." Remus still looked at him suspiciously. "Oh, stop it Remus, you're going to make me feel unwanted." Seeing as how Remus didn't appear to be buying his story, he huffed, "fine." Harry raised his hand and, concentrating for a moment, summoned Remus's wand. The old werewolf just looked at him, shock and fear written all over his face.

"Who the hell are you and what happened to Harry!"

"Remus, it's me. I used those components you got me in a ritual or two. And then there is my training regiment. All put together, I might have changed a bit." Remus looked at Harry warily for a few moments as he mulled over what Harry said before seeming to come to the conclusion that Harry's explanation made sense.

"Really Harry? Can you show me then?"

"Umm, Remus, I don't know if that is a great idea. You may not be happy with me."

"I won't be upset with you Harry. I just want to know what you've been up to." Harry studied him for a minute, using his limited Legilemency to see if Remus was being honest. Liking what he saw, he gestured for Remus to follow him. Luckily, the tent was currently disillusioned, so Remus didn't see it. Harry did, however, show him the other chambers of his trunk, which he had removed from the tent after completing the rituals, as well as his ritual chamber. After demonstrating for Remus some of his new abilities, Remus felt Harry had satisfactorily explained his changes. He wasn't happy that Harry was going through rituals, but he understood why Harry did it. They talked for a few hours before Remus had to leave. Just before he left, he told Harry that he probably wouldn't be able to visit for a few weeks as he was going off on a mission for the order. Harry nodded in understanding and once his werewolf friend had apparated away, Harry went back to work.

He could now spend almost twenty four hours a day reading and training. While extremely boring and taxing on his patience, he got by using his mental exercises to focus solely on his work and not on frivolous and fun things. By the third rotation into the second week of his training, Harry had mastered using wandless magic to gain the same effects as the spells from his textbooks. They still took a bit of time and energy to cast, but it was definitely a remarkable improvement from what he had learned already. He had also already moved onto the more powerful combat magics with his wand and sword.

The sword was another thing he was proud of. With four other skilled Harrys around, he was given ample opportunity to practice using it with his wand. He also worked on using the blade as a weapon. He knew he was doing little more that swinging around a dangerous object, but random swinging had worked for him in the past. Just ask the basilisk. It was after Harry's first power enhancing ritual during the fourth rotation that he really began to have fun.

He had learned the Malleus Maleficum spell during the third week, but using it left him tired. It also took an inordinate amount of concentration to pool enough power to cast it. The spell had been created by some Italian witch about four hundred years ago in a mockery of the muggle witch-hunts of the time. Even so, the spell's name, Malleus Maleficum, or 'Witch's Hammer,' was an appropriate title. The spell was a wave of magic that spread out from the caster, latching onto the magical energy of everything around it, especially other witches and wizards, and propelled them away from the caster at very unsafe velocities. This usually resulted in the victims being slammed into some object or another, often incapacitating them.

It was also conveniently unblockable. Since it latched onto magic, it either passed right through shields, or worse, used the magic in a shield to enhance its strength. Harry had also discovered, contrary to what the old bookseller in Knockturn Alley had said, it was almost a 'light' spell. It was emotion based, much like the Unforgivables, but instead of hate and anger, it used what Bellatrix had so aptly called 'righteous anger'. Harry liked to think that it was truly a light version of an Unforgivable. Of course, testing the spell required the other time travelers and a lot of cushions.

After his first power enhancing ritual, Harry found he could easily use the spell and continue with a duel. With a larger reserve of magic, Harry was actually able to feel the magic in him when he concentrated, and he was eventually able to create a small ball of magical energy between his palms. The magic itself was rather neutral. It wasn't like he could throw it at something or use it heal transfigure a goat. It was nothing but pure, unmodified Harry magic. Soon he started to make a game of it, trying to see how long he could maintain the ball of energy between his palms. He had tried to do it with one hand, but found it nearly impossible to maintain. Anyway, once he was able to maintain the ball of energy for long periods of time, he began to shape the energy and the color.

'I'm like some freaky balloon artist!' He thought happily as he held his magic in the form of a thestral.

The benefits of the exercise were two-fold. It not only worked on his concentration but it also helped build up his magical reserves. That, and he figured that in a worst case scenario, he could be a street artist in Diagon Alley, making fun shapes for kids as he held his hat out to collect donations. He was beginning to think that the increase in power might have also have affected his mind.

'Might explain why old Voldie and Dumbledore are who they are.' He thought humorously.

Harry had also found himself working on one of the unforgivables, the killing curse. He had decided that he, at this point in time, did not have the capacity or need to effectively use the Cruciatus or the Imperious. The killing curse, however, he knew had to be done. His surge in power had also led to the mindset that it was a relatively humane way of killing. He had been struck with this epiphany when he had been practicing minor spells such as the severing charm and had accidentally cut through his bedroom door and sliced his dinner table in half. Once that had happened, he experimented with a few other spells and found them to be severely damaging and most likely fatal is used against another human. Apparently, the old man in the bookstore was right.

It was during his fourth rotation and Harry had received a letter from Ron (they had drawn straws to see who would write the reply) and was just finishing up his reply when #5 approached him.

"Harry, are you busy?"

"You already know the answer #5, so why do you ask?" He merely grinned.

"True. Well, we, that is the rest of us, were wondering if you felt up to a duel? See how good you are against us, or yourself, if you will."

"Isn't that a bit unfair? I mean, you know how it will end, I know how it will end, its ended the same for us as I have already done it three times."

"You know, you would think it would be predictable and thus pointless, but it is not. Its always good to get experience and see duels from different directions. Besides, whether the outcome is pre-determined or not, you know its fun to duel."

"Fine, I will be ready in a few minutes. Rules the same for us as always?"

"Yeah, no blades and nothing fatal." Harry just nodded his head and turned back to reread the letter before he sent it.

Ron,

It's good to hear that your family is doing fine and that Percy has been accepted back into the family. I still can't believe that you are actually helping Charlie with the dragons! Perhaps when you get back in August we can go to Diagon Alley together. As for me, summer has been pretty boring. I've actually done quite a bit of reading. I can definitely say that I have caught up on everything I should have learned in school so far. I think Hermione would be proud. And to answer your question, no I haven't received any letters from her, not that I expected any. She will be on the move and probably won't have access to an owl. I would send Hedwig, but I have to keep her here so I can contact the Order. Well, my family is waiting for me, so I need to get going. I will see you when you return.

Harry

'More half-truths.' He thought with a shrug. 'Better than outright lying.'

Harry donned his black and gold combat robes and met the others in the spare bedroom in the tent. He smirked as he listened to Harry, a.k.a #1, comment about the room.

"What did you people do to this place!" It was quite impressive. The room was about the size of a basketball court, with solid wood floors and brick walls that soared so high that the ceiling was well beyond eyesight.

"I would think it was obvious! We, that is to say, I, expanded it. You really didn't think we would all fit in that one bedroom, did you? It will only last an hour or two though. I mean, it is rather big and I didn't want to pump all my energy into making it permanent." It had been #5 who had answered him.

"You expanded an already magically expanded space? We can do that?"

"Well, we can do that. You can't. Yet. But well teach you after the duel. Speaking of which, we should get started. The walls have cushioning charms, so no one should get hurt. Badly." They all took up positions in a corner, except for #5, who chose to stand in the middle.

Harry was nervous, he always was. This would be the first time he would be using his new found power from the ritual against an opponent, and it was not just any opponent but himself. They knew him implicitly, what his thoughts were at this moment, what spells he knew, the tactics he would take. 'I think I would rather face Voldemort. At least you can surprise him!'

They stood there, their wands at the ready, eyeing each other warily, looking to see who would make the first move. Harry caught #5's eyes. Bringing his mental resources to bear, Harry attacked his mind. The two of them had now dropped all pretenses and were staring into each other's minds. Harry felt the harsh probing of the other man. He didn't bother to defend himself too much. The man already knew what Harry was thinking. As they stared, the others watched. This had always been the most variable part of the duel. #5, who knew what Harry was thinking, or had thought, tried to be ahead of Harry in thought so he could use his knowledge to shut down whatever plan Harry conceived before he could put it into motion. Harry wasn't going to give in. Suddenly throwing up his mental shields, Harry cast a stunner at #5 while he banished #3 wandlessly. Now that Harry had made the first move, the others joined in.

Harry immediately rolled out of the way as a beam of blue light flew past him, impacting on the wall behind him. He cast the strongest shield he knew and pulled some lint out of his pocket and tossed it to the ground. With a quick wave of his wand, he transfigured the lint into a thick circular stone wall that defended the corner he was in. Soon the other Harrys were sending blasting curses far stronger than any Reductor at his wall, blowing huge holes in the stonework. Harry disillusioned himself and grabbed a chunk of rock. Muttering Portus, the rock glowed blue and Harry gripped it firmly as he felt the tug behind his navel.

He found himself in the middle of the other Harrys, who had started fighting each other when Harry disappeared, believing him to have been knocked out when the wall was blown up. Harry twirled his hand above his head as a wave of flame exploded out of it. The others barely had time to throw up shields as the flames washed over them.

Taking his advantage, Harry began throwing hexes at the others. He was able to catch #2 and #1, knocking them out as he flung them against the wall. He did not, however, have much time to celebrate as he was sent spinning threw the air as a curse from #5 struck his shoulder from behind. He landed against the wall, dazed. He summoned his wand to his hand just as #5 finished #3. They again took up a dueling stance.

"I take it that this has happened before?" Harry said as he and #5 began to circle.

"Of course! The end of the duel has always been pre-determined, no matter what we say or do. The fun of it is that you don't know what will happen." He flung a weak stunner at Harry.

"So, who wins?" Harry said after uttering a quick protego.

"Now that would be cheating! Why don't we find out!" With that, #5 fired a bolt of black energy at Harry. He threw himself out of the way, haphazardly casting a cutting hex back at him. They traded spells back and forth, with Harry quickly wearing out as he didn't know half of what #5 was throwing at him.

Harry laughed as he caught his opponent in an anti-gravity mist very similar to the one he encountered in the maze after the fourth task. His mirth abruptly stopped when #5 turned into a wispy black smoke. Harry cast a few spells at the smoke as it moved its way out of the AG mist to no effect. The black smoke suddenly reformed into #5, who promptly shot chains out of his wand, wrapping themselves around Harry. It was now #5's turn to laugh.

Harry struggled, but found he could not break the bonds. He tried a multitude of wandless spells, to no effect. #5 merely stood there watching, a superior grin on his face.

"Why Harry, I do believe I have won. Or do you wish to struggle some more?"

"I haven't lost yet." Harry snarled back. He thought about what #5 had done. If wandless magic was all about intent, he just might be able to do it. Focusing, Harry commanded himself to become smoke. The chains fell to the ground as his body lost its substance. At first Harry was a disoriented and his stomach felt like it was doing flips, as he could see all around him at once. The swirling of the smoke didn't help either. Concentrating, he forced his body to resumed shape. Apparently, he didn't concentrate enough.

Harry's body did reform correctly. Unfortunately, he didn't concentrate on orientation. He suddenly found himself looking out of his eyes, only to find himself watch the ground come rushing up to meet him. As soon as he hit the floor, he was hit with a stunner and he knew no more.

He woke up to find #5 leaning over him, grinning.

"I must say Harry, I am impressed. I know I learned that the same time as you did, but I thought that with my experience, I would be able to stop you before we came to that point. Alas, I was wrong."

"Dear god!" Harry groaned, "You sound like Albus!" #5 just grinned. "So tell me, how did I last long enough to duel you while the others got taken out?"

"That's just how it works. Its odd, you know. You are #4 and have seen and experienced all the duels as well as I, yet we still can't overcome the inevitable outcomes, no matter how hard we try."

"Perhaps, no matter what magic is used, we are incapable of creating a paradox?" Harry mused.

"Of course we can't! At least, it doesn't seem like we can. Some Muggles and wizards have this silly notion they call the 'Grandfather Paradox.' They think that if you could go back in time, you might kill your grandfather and thus not be born." Harry interrupted here.

"But if I were to kill my grandfather and not be born, who would go back and kill him? So that would mean that a paradox could not be formed. Something would have to prevent it."

"Exactly! It really puts a fatalistic perspective on life, doesn't it? It would seem that every event has a purpose and those events can not be changed."

"Sure lends more credibility to the idea of prophecies." Harry said in a slightly defeated tone. #5 just nodded. They sat there for a few minutes, contemplating the ramifications of fate, when Harry's stomach growled. "I guess its time for dinner. Lets go wake up the others."