Author's Note: Happy Birthday wishes to Keres Weiland! Here's the next installment. Enjoy!

Harry woke up from…something. Not another noise. He started to roll over when his sleep-lagged brain told him something he wasn't ready to believe. He was floating in the air. What? He dropped into his bed from three feet above it as soon as he realized that he was in fact above it. He sat up and looked around. Note to self: Gain control of your magic soon. He sat up and looked around for the noise that had caused such a wonderful wake up. He knew it wasn't Kreacher, because he had sent Kreacher with Remus. He would have let Kreacher stay with his aunt, but it made Aunt Petunia uncomfortable to see a small creature popping in and out of rooms. The noise came again from the window. A grey owl was sitting on the branch outside, peering in at Harry as though to say "feel like opening this window?" Harry called up his magic to see if there were any spells or portkeys on the owl or the message it carried. Nothing. Who is sending me messages in the middle of the night?

Harry opened the window and the owl flew in. It came to a rest on Harry's desk. "Thank you." Harry said as he removed the note from the owl. "Help yourself to water. Hedwig is always happy to share." The owl left the desk and perched next to Hedwig, looking very pleased with himself.

Harry turned on his desk light and inspected the envelope. It only had his address penned on the front in plain ink, not something Harry had come to expect from the wizarding world. The handwriting looked familiar, but Harry couldn't place where he had seen it. He broke the seal and opened the page.

Harry,

I know I'm probably the last person you want to hear from, but I couldn't let this pass. My loyalty is to the Ministry, not a certain person. The Minister is not making very good decisions concerning you or your safety. I felt the need to inform you what is happening.

Minister Fudge and Dumbledore met today and spent a lot of time talking about you. Dumbledore managed to receive the Minister's permission to remove you from the Muggle world if You-Know-Who becomes too aggressive. The level of aggressiveness is open to Dumbledore's interpretation, of course, because he knows more about You-Know-Who than any other wizard.

Dumbledore told the Minister that You-Know-Who has found a student. Dumbledore does not know who this student is, but he feels that the student may or may not be doing this of his free will. I do know that the student is a Parseltongue. The source (I'm assuming it's a Death Eater spy) thinks the student is foreign. The most important is the fact that no one knows what the student looks like. Be on your guard.

I know you don't like me. I don't blame you. My family considers you one of their own, and I'm just starting to realize that you belong to me, too. Take care of yourself and keep an eye out for danger. The magical world and Ministry has failed you one too many times. I refuse to contribute to that failure any longer. I will contact you again if there is any further information you need to know.

Percy Weasley

Harry lowered the page and sighed. So Dumbledore is still unwilling to concede, is he? Harry thought as he dug for some paper. His hands finally found his paper and pens.

Percy,

Thank you for the information. I will take appropriate action. Your secrets are safe with me. Take care of yourself.

Harry

"Could you take a return message?" Harry asked the grey owl. The owl bobbed its head, took the letter, and flew out the window. Harry shivered and shut the window with a wave of his hand. He lowered his head to the desk and wondered why his life was so screwed up.

The reporters were actually carted away by Aurors disguised as Muggle police officers. The Daily Prophet had issued a written apology to Harry, explaining that they had forbidden any reporters from appearing at Harry's house, but could not guarantee what independent reporters and photographers would do. They did promise not to buy any photographs or stories about Harry from anyone not employed at the Daily Prophet. Remus had said that the Prophet was doing a classical rendition of "Oops! We were caught!" Harry had to agree with him.

The visit to the solicitors' offices went better than Harry had expected. The Potter family's solicitor was a middle-aged woman that reminded Harry a bit of his aunt. She had this no-nonsense approach towards everything that put Harry at ease. So the world was falling down around her? Oh well. She was meeting Harry Potter? That's nice. Lord Voldemort walked through her front door? Oh dear. She would go out the back. He spent two hours with her while she told him exactly what she did for the Potter family. Remus had control of the business aspect of things, yes, but she made sure that Remus was doing everything within the bounds of law. She was also capable of bringing charges against anyone Harry wished. It was an odd feeling, that someone would do something like that, just because Harry asked. She also told him a few stories about his parents. It appeared that his mother controlled his father's prankish behavior whenever the two were out in public. He had chuckled at that. He had heard that his mother had a forceful personality, but the idea that his father needed to be told to sit down and behave himself like a child! He was only glad that he hadn't been told that since he was…oh, about three.

The second solicitor was a rather jocular fellow who was oh so pleased to meet Harry at last. He couldn't believe that this man worked for the Black family until the solicitor confided that Sirius Black had chosen him over the "lad's" (Sirius was a lad compared to this man) mother's choice, who was a "rather crotchety man not suited to the legal profession". He had plied Harry with tea and biscuits until Harry was sure he would never eat again. The solicitor didn't bother listing his responsibilities to the Black family; he just gave Harry a roll of parchment that recorded all of his duties, should Harry need something along those lines.

He jerked as his scar gave a quick lance of pain and then started throbbing in time with his pulse. He sighed. He really didn't want to see Voldemort right now. He stood and went to his bag to dig out his robes and mask. He laid them on the bed and pulled on some of his new clothes and shoes (it wouldn't be a good idea to appear in pajamas!). He replaced his glasses for his contacts. The robes settled on his shoulders and the mask went on before he hissed his password.

No one was around when he appeared in the graveyard. His magic flared around him, trying to tell him something. There was a teacher here? What did that mean? He paused, a line of Percy's letter coming into his head. The most important fact is that no one knows what the student looks like. They also thought that the student was foreign. Harry smirked as he raised his hand to his hair. He felt magic settle on it. He pulled out a strand and found that it was dirty blond. Perfect. Now for the eyes. He concentrated, not sure exactly what he was doing. His magic flared up and asked what he wanted. He managed to figure out that he wanted a temporary color change to last until the morning and he felt a slight tingle in his eyes. He conjured a mirror and stopped. His scar would give him some problems. He lengthened his hair until it covered his forehead and then used a slight sticking charm to get the closest layer to stick to his forehead. Perfect. He gave a toothy grin, shook his head at his own silliness, and entered Voldemort's lair.

He went to the usual meeting place and found Voldemort waiting for him. Harry stopped just inside the doorway and frowned. There was someone else waiting with Voldemort. The robes and mask were still on. Who was it?

"Ah, my student." Voldemort said when he saw Harry standing there.

"Good evening, sir." Harry answered, giving his voice a slight accent. The drama club had practiced accents before the Christmas holidays had started. Professor Bevington told Harry never to accept a role that offered a French accent, because Harry couldn't really produce one. His French accent sounded like a mix between French, German, and Spanish. He just couldn't remember the sounds or keep them straight. Harry figured that this would confuse anyone listening. He wasn't going to give anyone any clues at all about his identity.

Voldemort gave him an amused look but didn't say anything. "This is Professor William Zareh." Voldemort said as he motioned to the other one in the room. "He is Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He has offered to tutor you, my student." Voldemort said as he beckoned Harry closer.

Harry walked into the room and kept an eye on the professor. Voldemort nodded to the man and Zareh started removing his heavy outer robes and his mask. Harry stopped next to Voldemort and cocked his head to the side to study his new "teacher". Voldemort reached out and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Remove your robes and mask." Voldemort said to his student. Harry's head whipped around so fast that he was sure that he would be sore the next morning. "Now, my child."

Your funeral. Harry thought as he reached up and removed his mask. Voldemort reached out a hand and took it from Harry. He reached out a spidery hand and undid the clasp at Harry's throat. Harry had to fight every instinct not to pull away from him. Having Voldemort's hand near his throat brought back unpleasant memories of his first year. Harry slipped out of his robes and folded them over his arm. Voldemort started to make a choking noise next to him. Harry looked over with a puzzled look on his face. "Sir?" He wasn't sure, but he thought he might have given Voldemort a heart attack. More importantly, was it fatal?

Voldemort crushed Harry's dream in the next instant by letting out a burst of laughter which slowly turned maniacal. "You are full of surprises!" Voldemort said in Parseltongue, his pleasure (and pride?) showing through in his voice.

"I had a feeling that I would need a disguise tonight." Harry returned with a, well, not smile. It was a smirk. Oh dear. He was actually smirking.

"Zareh," Voldemort said as he motioned the man towards the throne. The man moved forward and knelt in front of Voldemort. "This is my student, the young Dark Lord. Let's call him 'Tom' for now." Oh, that's just hysterical. That's really funny, Voldemort. Watch me rolling on the ground. Young Dark Lord 'Tom'. How ignoble. Harry restrained himself and fought the slight homicidal tendency he found rising within him. The man had to make jokes, didn't he?

Voldemort motioned for Zareh to rise. "Teach him well. He is a good student, if a little stubborn from time to time. He's no stranger to heavy discipline. Do not be afraid to use it." Harry shot a glance at the man who lived to torture him. Why couldn't Voldemort do things like lines or cleaning? Why did it have to be the Cruciatus curse? "I will, however, hold you responsible if he is permanently damaged." Voldemort warned the teacher.

"I will do my best, my Lord." The words settled over Harry and he fought a shudder. Did Dumbledore know the man could sound so evil?

"See that you do." Voldemort said. "Obey him and learn well, Tom."

"Yes, sir." Harry answered in English. The night was going to be stressful enough for the man in front of him. He didn't want to add anymore than necessary. That didn't mean he couldn't play with him a bit.

"I have designated a room at the end of the hall as your classroom." Voldemort told them. "Return here after you are done." Harry nodded to Voldemort and followed the Death Eater out of the room.

Their "classroom" was just a large room with very little furniture. There was a table and two chairs, a few books about the Dark Arts (and not the defense), and a few targets on the wall. "Have a seat, my Young Lord." Zareh said as he waved to one of the chairs.

"You do not have to call me that, Professor." Harry said as he slipped into the role of foreign student. "Tom," He almost gagged. "is fine."

"I have a feeling that the Dark Lord would not be happy about that." Zareh said as he sat down across from Harry.

"It does not matter. I ask you to call me by 'Tom'." Harry said simply. "My Lord will not be happy, but he will not distress." Zareh blinked at the odd word choice. "Is that not right?" Harry asked. He was having fun with this role. Toying with Dumbledore's spy would be a lot of fun. One of his more challenging roles, at the very least.

"I think you were looking for the word 'worry'?" Zareh suggested.

"Yes, worry." Harry said with a smile. The man actually smiled back at him. Zareh looked him over (making Harry suspicious) and seemed to come to some sort of decision.

"I will call you 'Tom' if you call me 'William'." Zareh said with a smile. Harry's own faded and he regarded the teacher.

"Only if you do not tell him." Harry said with a jerk of his head in the direction of Voldemort's throne room.

"Deal." Zareh extended his hand for a shake. Harry looked at his hand. He knew Voldemort's wards would not allow anyone to take Harry out of them. He felt the wards drop around him every time he appeared here. He wouldn't be able to leave until Voldemort raised them for him. Harry reached out his hand (it didn't tremble, did it?) and shook Zareh's hand. "Now, what do you know about the Unforgivable Spells?" Zareh said as he pulled a book towards him.

Harry stumbled as his portkey deposited him too close to his desk for comfort. He was amazed that he escaped that night without a single Cruciatus cast on him. A few lashes had been dealt out, which Zareh had watched without a single noise of protest or flinch. Harry had flinched, but not that much. He hated to say it, but he was getting used to the feeling and was finding it easier to ignore it. Zareh's eyes told Harry that he hated to see it and stand by to allow it to happen. Harry smirked as he dropped his mask and robes into his bag. Dumbledore had chosen a good spy. The man had only slipped when Voldemort's attention was on 'student'.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was noticeably empty during the Christmas holidays. Even the Protectors were summoned home by anxious parents. Several teachers had left the castle to visit distant relatives and family they had not seen but didn't want to miss while they still had the chance. If a motto existed for the wizarding world's current state of mind, it would be "just in case". "Let's put some money into a jar…just in case." "Let's visit your mother before the holidays…just in case." "Make sure to have your wand with you on the train ride home from school…just in case." "Never go anywhere alone…just in case." "Make out a will…just in case."

Headmaster Dumbledore ignored the list of things he had to do…just in case. He did not need to notify anyone about his final wishes, as they had been decided for almost twenty years…just in case. He gave a wry grin and stirred his tea after adding a twist of lemon. Fawkes preened in the corner and let out a few notes of song before settling himself for sleep. "Fawkes, my old friend, you wouldn't know where Harry is, would you?" Dumbledore asked his phoenix with a slight chuckle. The bird had never answered him and probably never would.

For the first time in a very long time, Albus Dumbledore felt old. One of his students, in fact, one of his favorite students, was missing from the safety of the magical world. He was left to the mercy of Muggle education, Muggle medical practices, and Muggle safety. In other words, he was in extreme danger with little to no recourse for help. What really frustrated Dumbledore more than anything else about the situation was that the boy seemed to want to stay there now.

Ronald Weasley had forwarded the letter Harry had written in response to Ron's own letter. The wording did not ease Dumbledore's mind or heart at all. It pained him to think that a student he considered one of his own felt unsafe at Hogwarts and found something in the Muggle world he preferred. Hogwarts was a one of a kind institution and Harry had found somewhere he liked better. It was almost shameful. Hogwarts had always been home to Harry Potter. The boy should be home with Dumbledore, not out in the Muggle world, dancing through who knew what kind of danger with no adult wizard to guide him!

Dumbledore rose from his chair and moved to his window to look down at the grounds. He saw numerous people portkeying to just outside the Hogwarts' gates. He smiled to himself. The Order of the Phoenix was still growing, getting larger and more powerful by the day. New countries that he had not contacted were offering their services and support for the upcoming war…in exchange for meeting the Boy Who Lived.

He did not mind using the boy's name. After all, this would help Harry defeat Voldemort and give him many contacts for his later career, whatever he decided that would be. Harry could have his pick of professions at the end of this. Would the boy be interested in politics? Sports? Education? Law? Any one of the contacts Dumbledore had made for him would be able to further the boy's desires. His name would open the doors he needed to succeed in life. It would be easy to ensure Harry's comfort for the rest of his life once he fulfilled his destiny. Dumbledore knew then what a father felt when his children lived up to their full potential. Pride. He would burst with pride once Harry finished what he needed to and go onto his adult life.

Dumbledore left his office and changed his password as the gargoyle shut behind him, just to perturb the other teachers later on when they had to guess sweets. That was always so amusing to watch. He strolled down the hallway to the Great Hall, thinking about various matters on his mind, but chief in his thoughts was Voldemort's student.

William Zareh had finally managed to offer his services as a Dark Arts teacher to Voldemort and his student. Voldemort had been a little upset when Zareh had spoken out of turn, but seemed pleased that Zareh was willing to give up his free time to teach, especially when his profession was in education. A few of Dumbledore's theories had been confirmed. The boy was only fourteen years of age and had dirty blond hair and "piercing" blue eyes, to use Zareh's word for them. He did speak English, but it was heavily accented. Zareh couldn't quite place where the accent originated. He described it as a mix of French and some heavy tones common to Scandinavian languages. The student was also left handed and preferred spoken spells to silent. Voldemort had seemed amused when Zareh had asked about that tendency, but he hadn't enlightened his Death Eater to why he found the situation amusing.

The only thing of which Dumbledore was still uncertain was if the boy was doing it of his own free will (never mind that the lad was only fourteen…Voldemort could now add child endangerment to his already long list of charges) or if he had no choice. His spy had told him that Voldemort did lash the boy, but the boy acted like he accepted the lashes as though he was used to them and expected them. Dumbledore had already ordered Zareh to remove the boy from the situation if he had a chance to do so. Not that he had much of one. Voldemort would watch the lessons by popping in and out of the room, often speaking to the boy in Parseltongue. Zareh said that he could tell from the tones that Voldemort was either pleased or berating the boy. There was no medium in sight when it came to the lad's "education".

Dumbledore stepped into the Great Hall and took his place at the front of the room. The gathered members slowly died down in their greetings and turned to face him. "Members of the Order of the Phoenix." Dumbledore said calmly as he felt the various translation spells activate around the room. "We have a serious situation. So serious, in fact, that I do not know what to do." He listened for the expected chuckles and smiled to himself. Having an appreciative audience always helped his humor. "Voldemort," He paused while several members took the time to flinch at the name, "has a student." The entire hall erupted into chaos as many people reacted to the news. Many of the women started to tear up. The men just looked shocked. "He is still a boy. Our source puts him at fourteen, no older than fifteen." Dumbledore heard a sob from his right and saw Molly Weasley's face buried in her husband's shoulder. Well, the boy would have a mother if Zareh ever managed to get him away from Voldemort. "His accent is rather difficult to pin down. He does speak English, but with heavy tones of French and some Scandinavian influences. We are unsure of his original country."

"Mr. Dumbledore," a representative from France stood and waved for Dumbledore's attention. Dumbledore sent her a benevolent smile. "While this news is very distressing and disturbing, the French government is more concerned over the Boy Who Lived. We have not seen any evidence that Harry Potter is still alive and able to fight." She sat down with a smirk and Dumbledore waited for the applause to die before answering her.

"I saw Harry Potter myself not too long ago. The boy is healthy and looks very content where he is. He will be returning to Hogwarts shortly. Now, if we could return to the topic at hand?" Dumbledore waved his wand and an image appeared. "This is what our source says the boy looks like. Copies are being delivered to your seats now." He watched as flashes announced the pictures' arrival to each person. "Now, any questions?" Not about Harry Potter? Dumbledore hoped.

"I can't believe we're finally here!" Bug crowed as he jumped off the last step of the bus. "London!" He bounced in place while Harry left the bus. Sensei descended right behind and stood near, but not too close, to Harry while he scanned the area.

"Yes, Bug. We're in London. It's in England, not another planet." Harry said calmly. He had actually fallen asleep on the bus and was only just becoming coherent. He adjusted his satchel and looked up at their hotel. It seemed to be a rather nice place. He moved to the side of the bus and waited for everyone to get off so they could check in and he could change out of the school uniforms.

"Grump." Bug said without malice. "Someone get this spy some caffeine!" Bug announced to the whole group of students. A few who knew Harry snickered. He was becoming well-known as a caffeine addict.

"Everyone have your roommates?" Mr. Collins, a teacher Harry had only seen, asked as he waded through the excited teenagers.

"Yes!" Most of them shouted. Harry wondered why Bug had to shout in his ear.

"Alright. Into the hotel." Mr. Collins led the way. Paul and Sensei were close to Harry and Rick danced alongside Harry and Bug, jabbering about all the junk food they were going to eat. "Now wait until I call you up." Mr. Collins told the group. He brought out his clipboard like a shield and went up to the front desk.

Harry looked around and spotted all of the emergency exits…just in case. I'm becoming as paranoid as Moody. Searching for exits, carrying weapons, CONSTANT VIGILANCE! What am I turning into?

"James/Wells!" Mr. Collins called out. Bug left Harry's side and retrieved their key cards for their room. Bug handed one to Harry and slipped the other in a pocket. Rick snatched Harry's card away and winked. "Alright, gang! You have two hours to get settled in your room, changed for the theatre, and back downstairs. We are all meeting in the lobby, right back here, at five forty-five. Got that?"

"Yes!" The overexcited teenagers shouted. Harry ducked his head a little bit and pretended he wasn't with them. Okay, he was excited too. Over the moon, actually, but did they have to draw everyone's attention this way.

"Okay, go on. Get out of here!"

"Mr. Clipboard is way too energetic." Bug whispered to Harry.

"Nice name." Harry whispered back. Rick accompanied the pair up to their floor but stopped them at the end of the hallway.

"Sensei requested we wait here." Rick told them as he leaned against the wall. "It'll only be a few minutes." He promised.

"What's going on?" Bug asked as he dropped his bag.

"Remember when I told you my real name?" Harry asked quietly.

"Yeah…OH!" Bug's mind worked it out. Sensei passed Rick and took the offered key card.

"Guess what Sensei was before he became a teacher?" Harry told his friend as Bug looked down the hall after Paul. Bug turned around and looked at Harry.

"Really?" Bug asked. "Wicked."

"Yes. 'Wicked'." Paul said from beside the pair as he came down the hallway. "It is not to be announced to anyone. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." Bug answered, turning solemn. "I don't know anything." He said with an innocent air.

"That much is obvious." Harry said dryly. Bug cuffed Harry on the arm and glared at his friend. It was always so much fun to toy with Bug.

"Your aunt asked me to give this to you." Paul said as he produced a small envelope. Harry accepted it with a look of thanks. He gave it a quick scan with his magic. Paranoid as Mad-Eye.

Harry,

Relax and enjoy yourself this weekend. Paul, Sensei, or Rick will be near you day and night, just in case the worst should happen. Have fun!

Love,


Aunt Petunia

Harry slipped the note into his pocket and realized that he was making quite a collection of notes from his aunt. He had kept every single one.

"You're clear, 007." Rick said as Sensei waved from Harry's doorway. "Let's get you into your room." He herded the two boys down the hallway and into their room. Sensei was waiting for them. Rick disappeared, muttering something about pretty girls down in the lobby.

"These are call buttons." Sensei told them as he held out two small pins. "The circle in the middle will call for one of us if you are in danger. You each get one and you will wear it at all times until we return to the school. Only for emergencies." Sensei said as he pinned one to Harry and Bug. "Understand?" He asked, looking quite fearsome.

"Yes, sir." The boys said in unison.

"Good." Sensei left the room and shut the door behind him. "Lock this!" Sensei said through the door. Harry flipped the bolt lock shut.

"Intense." Bug said as he inspected the button.

"Yeah." Harry said as he dropped onto his bed, his suitcase clattering to the floor beside him. "I'm actually getting used to it." Harry admitted.

"Well, you never claimed to be normal." Bug shrugged and told Harry he was getting into the shower. Harry waved him out of the room and opened his satchel. He dug out his journal and flipped over onto his stomach to write.

We finally made it to London. Bug is extremely excited…a little too excited. He's in the shower now. I can't help but feel that something is going to happen. I'm probably just being paranoid. I'm always being paranoid these days. I worry about what Dumbledore is doing, what Voldemort is thinking, my aunt…Oh god. Aunt Petunia will KILL me if she ever finds out what I've been doing with Voldemort. She will kill me and bury me under the flowers in the garden. Mi would send me to Siberia to have someone sit on me. Paul…would chuck me into the infirmary and strap me to a bed.

What was I thinking? I've become worse since deciding to do this. I sleep fine. I eat, well, a lot. I'm just completely paranoid. Mad Eye Moody type paranoid describes it.

"Gah!" Harry gasped as he felt something tighten around his wrist.

"Ah, good afternoon, lightening child!" Zen said as Harry saw him. You just saved me from having to bite you. What had you so distracted?"

"My journal." Harry answered. "Zen, what are you doing here?"

Zen curled around Harry's wrist and presented his head for scratching. He waited until Harry actually started scratching before answering. "Well, you were near my home this morning and I knew you were leaving. I thought you might be bored with all these…children." Zen started in a gossipy tone Harry generally associated with the neighborhood grannies. "So, I just snuck out of my home and into your bag. It was very easy to do." He confided. "Oh, right there! Perfect!"

"Uh-huh. You're going to get me into trouble, you know." Harry told him as he continued scratching Zen. It looked like Zen was getting ready for a new skin.

"No, I won't. No one will see me." Zen promised. "I'll just stay in your bag and out of sight."

"I HATE TIES!" Bug shouted from the bathroom.

"Here's your chance to prove it." Harry told him as he closed his journal and placed Zen on the bed. Zen dashed for Harry's satchel and disappeared into the bag. "Bug, are you okay?"

The door slammed open to reveal a very frustrated Bug holding a tie in his hand. "Do you know how to do these stupid things?" he demanded.

"Yes. Come here." Harry tied the tie as Bug started mumbling about burning the object in question. Harry snorted as Bug moved to the mirror to inspect Harry's work.

"Practice much?" Bug asked in surprise.

"I've had a lot of practice lately. I'm starting to get good at it." Harry shrugged and started for his shower. "I'll be out in a few minutes."

"Sure. I have my button right here." Bug said as he turned on the telly. Harry shook his head. Bug was mumbling something about Star Wars.

"I think he's dead." Harry heard Bug say in fascination.

"He's not dead. He's still breathing." Rick said on his other side.

"Catatonic, then." Bug said, slightly exasperated.

"Cata-what?" Rick asked.

"Buddy?" Paul said as he crouched down in front of Harry's seat in the theater. "Are you still with us?"

"Paul?" Harry blinked and came back to himself. That had been amazing. Astonishing. Les Miserables was more than Harry expected. It was breath-taking and he wanted to do that!

"Yes?" Paul did not like the way Harry was acting. The symptoms were reminding him of shock.

"Does St. Jude's have singing?" Harry asked.

"No, I'm afraid not." Paul answered. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Harry answered. "I just discovered what I want to do with the rest of my life." Harry announced.

"Did you?" Paul asked as he pulled Harry to his feet.

"Yeah." Harry said with a smile. He shouldered his satchel and started following his group (Paul, Sensei, Rick, and Bug) down through the lobby. He smiled once they left the theatre. No more Auror job. No more professional Quidditch. No more Boy Who Lived. I've found my home. His hands flew to his forehead. "Get everyone back inside!" he ground out as he started to Occlude his mind.

"What?" Paul asked.

"He's here." Harry told Paul. "Voldemort." A cold feeling started settling around him and he knew it was not his magic. "Everyone back inside!" Harry shouted. "Now!" Rick and bug reacted as one and started pushing the kids back towards the doors. Harry saw his breath and turned around. "Expecto Patronum!" he said out of instinct. Nothing happened. Oh for the love of… He shut his eyes and called up his magic.

Yes? Yes? What? It questioned with eagerness as it rushed through Harry. Harry requested that the magic defend against the dementors. He opened his eyes in time to see a bright silver flash. Sensei saw what looked like a firm silver sheet leave Harry's body and coalesce into a stag shape. The stag lowered its body towards the Dementors and drove them back.

"Amazing, deshi." Sensei said as he started to escort Harry back towards the theater. Harry was happy to go and leave it to the Aurors. Everything suddenly went sideways as numerous Apparition pops sounded everywhere. Aurors, Order members, and Death Eaters immediately started fighting each other. Sensei and Harry did what they did best among the flying spells and shouts. They started to fight through it.

Harry jerked as something grabbed him and hauled him backwards. His magic shouted at him as he slammed into someone. "Vampire." Harry gasped out as his magic started gathering.

"Yes, Mr. Potter. Vampire." The man said calmly as he bared his fangs and jerked Harry's head to the side. He screamed in the next instant as a flash of sunlight hit his eyes. He dropped Harry and skulked away into a dark alley. Harry sat up and pushed himself to his feet. He looked up in time to see a Death Eater aim at Sensei. Harry's magic lashed out at the Death Eater.

"Wicked." Harry breathed. He fought his way back towards the theatre and noticed a group of Death Eaters, dementors, and vampires prepare to enter the theatre. He threw up a hand and the entire group was tossed away from the doors. He set a shield on the doors that would stop anyone or anything harmful from entering. He looked to his left and saw Sensei fighting a vampire. Harry help up a hand and the vampire screamed from the sunlight.

Cold descended around Harry again. The dementors brought reinforcements. One of the dementors tossed Sensei further away from Harry. He watched in horror as his teacher arced through the air before coming to rest on his feet in a crouched position. An Auror rushed over to him. Sensei's okay now.

The dementors pressed closer to Harry. "You can't have me." He whispered as he Occluded his mind and his magic sent out a Patronus. The screaming inside Harry' head increased as more dementors joined the other ones. His magic flared and another Patronus appeared to join the other one. Two? I can cast two? A dementor grabbed Harry with his spindly fingers and started to lower its hood. Another flash of silver scared the dementor away. Two others joined it when another Patronus from Harry appeared, this time in the shape of a furious cat. It reminded him of Aunt Petunia, in a way. More dementors advanced on Harry. A memory of Aunt Petunia playing with his hair revealed another Patronus. It was a larger version of the cat. It didn't hiss. It roared.

The dementors screamed in pain. The sound went through Harry and made him wince. He watched as the battle died down around him, the Death Eaters retreating faster than they had appeared. Harry didn't feel anything about the wounded or dead. In fact, he couldn't feel anything at all. Did he still have hands? He raised one and found it trembling. He pressed it again his chest and fought the urge to scream. He couldn't feel it! His entire body was numb! The smell of the battle started to fade away. Harry looked around in confusion. Were all of his senses dying? He turned, trying to get back to the theatre, when he saw Sensei fighting with the Auror who had protected him. Harry trembled when he realized that he couldn't hear the shouting. Back to the hotel. Harry thought, waving a hand in Sensei's direction. His teacher disappeared from the wand-happy Auror.

Okay, you can't feel anything, smell anything, or hear anything. He looked up and saw Professor Snape standing a few feet away from him. He was saying something, but Harry couldn't hear him. He jerked as pain lanced through his entire body. You can feel again. Harry thought to himself as he stumbled towards the theatre. He couldn't even remember why he needed to go there. Pain came again and with it sound. Someone was screaming. Harry collapsed backwards as he realized that he was screaming. Snape and Dumbledore appeared above him as Harry's vision started to fade. The sounds of the city grew fainter as the music of birdsong replaced it. The buildings around him started to disappear, only to have lofty trees take their place. The pavement felt like grass underneath his body. He could hear Dumbledore calling his name and frantically casting healing spells.

Another figure came up on Harry's left side. Harry stared at him in disbelief. Why is he here? The man offered a hand to Harry. He lay there on the ground as he started at his "rescuer" and felt his body start to shake. The pain worsened and Harry screamed in defeat. He couldn't fight it any longer. The man took a step closer and knelt, still offering his hand. Harry's vision faded out a bit more as he rolled away from Snape and Dumbledore's hands. He grasped the offered hand just before he passed out.

"What was that?" Dumbledore asked Snape. Snape flicked his wand and swore.

"Potter's heart stopped."

Author's Note: Hi. I suppose hiding would be a good idea? I must find my passport.