Author's Note: Um…hi? Sorry it's taken so long. It's been a crazy summer. And school year. No more delay. On to the story!

"Do you remember drawing this, Harry?" Paul asked as he handed over the drawing he had spent so much time staring at since Mr. Watt, the art teacher, had brought it into the office. Harry frowned and opened the folded paper, only to stop and stare at it when he saw the image on the paper.

"No one was supposed to find this," Harry told Paul as he closed the paper again and held it in his hands.

"Mm," Paul paused for a second. "Mr. Watt showed this to me some time ago." Paul told him.

"Oh," Harry bit his lip and looked down at the folded paper. "What about it?" He asked.

"I was wondering how many versions of you exist now?"

"I don't know," Harry said in a soft voice. "Sometimes, I feel like there's only one of me, and then there are so many of me that I don't understand what end is up."

Paul sat and considered what Harry said. "What you're describing is normal, Harry. We all do it. It's called a persona. Do you remember when we talked about those?"

"Yeah, it's a mask, right? A front we present to others when circumstances merit, right?"

"Almost verbatim. Well done, buddy." Paul smiled at Harry and pulled out a pad of drawing paper. "Now, I'm no artist, but I drew a picture of my own personae." He handed the pad to Harry and motioned for him to open it.

Harry flipped open the cover and saw four stick figures with different hats. He smiled at the primitive drawings and he heard Paul chuckle.

"I did say that I'm not much of an artist," Paul said with laughter in his voice. "The hats are the closest I could get to masks."

Harry looked up at Paul and then back down to the drawings. "There's only four."

"Yes, only four," Paul said in an offhand manner. "This is me as a therapist," he motioned to the stick figure with the mortarboard. "I went to school for this, so I thought was the best symbol. This," he moved his finger to the next on the page, "is me as a bodyguard. That's what I thought I wanted to do. Notice that I didn't make a face for him, or hands?" Harry nodded. "I always felt a little helpless, and I guess that shows through in the drawing. Interesting, isn't it?"

"It's like your subconscious is saying something through the drawing." Harry said.

"That's it exactly," Paul was glad he didn't have to explain the concept to Harry. "There's the image I present to my parents," a small stick figure with a ball cap smiled up from the page, "and the last is who I am most of the time." He motioned to the most detailed stick figure. This one had full facial features and hair. "Now, the point of this little adventure of my horrible drawing skills: personae are never complete."

Harry tilted his head to the side and stared at the pad. "Are you trying to tell me that every persona has a little of another?"

"Thank goodness you understand where I'm going with this," Paul said while wiping imaginary sweat from his forehead. "Every persona in your picture," Paul pointed at the folded paper, "is a part of you, some aspect of yourself. Some persona leave over time, when you don't need them anymore. You'll develop more when you need them. The key thing to remember is where they end and where you begin."

Harry didn't do anything for a few minutes while he thought things over. "I'll try," Harry said finally.

"Good," Paul told him as he turned to dig into his desk. "I have some pencils here, uh, that is what you draw with, right?"

"One of many," Harry told him.

"Brilliant. Now, if you wouldn't mind, I would like you to draw another picture of your personae in our remaining time. Something to take with you when you leave tomorrow." Paul said as he held out the pencils.

"All of them?" Harry asked.

"Every last one." Paul told him with a tiny smirk.

Harry reached out a hand and accepted the pencils. "I'll give it my best shot," he said.

"There once was a very wise teacher and he said 'Do, or do not. There is no try.'"

Harry couldn't help laughing at Paul. He quoted Yoda! "Okay, I'll draw a picture of my personae, so long as you don't quote him again for the rest of the day."

"I acquiesce to your request," Paul said as he turned to his desk. "Now draw!"

Harry saluted and opened the pad to a clean page and chose a pencil. He studied the white page glaring up at him and he tapped the edge with a pencil. The last time he had drawn himself, he had used a broken crystal ball. He had felt broken then, and not in control of his own fate. Now, he was different. He put his pencil tip on the paper and waited. Something would come to him….ah.

Paul sat and watched as Harry drew. It was interesting to see his creative process start up. At first, nothing happened and then Harry was lost to his own world. The pencil started moving and it didn't stop. Harry's right pinky finger started turning gray from the graphite when Harry dragged it over the image. One pencil found its way to his ear and the other slowly became shiny with the movements. Harry paused once for almost a full minute before his head lowered again and his hand moved faster than ever. Harry drew for a straight forty-five minutes before he allowed the pad of paper to drop to his lap and the pencil to fall from his hand.

"Finished?" Paul asked, secretly amused at Harry. There were times Paul found Harry to be the most interesting person he knew. "Willing to share?" Harry only nodded and held out the pad of paper. Paul took it and studied the image laid out on the paper. This one was much more encouraging.

"So, tell me where you are in this image?" Paul said as he tried to make sense of the background.

"The room is the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts," Harry said. "It's a magical room that changes as you need things." Harry explained.

"Why there?"

"Well, because the personae are only used when needed. I felt that it was appropriate, putting them there." Harry shrugged.

"Okay. Can you explain your personae?"

"The first is the strongest, the one I need to use when I'm in danger." Harry said, pointing at the one in the foreground. "He protects."

"Protects what?"

"Everything about me," Harry admitted. "I'm not really safe and haven't really been safe in my life. I won't be safe until Voldemort is gone and Dumbledore decides that he can't influence me."

"So, this is the one you put up when threatened?" Paul studied the image. Like the image in the crystal ball, this Harry was also dressed in armor, but he was not injured. His armor was clean and the facial expression was so strong that even Paul had to admit that he would be hard-pressed to face anyone like that. It was an expectant look, as though he already knew the future and he could only see victory there.

"Yeah," Harry said happily. "You remember when I told you about the Chambers of Secrets? The sword he's holding is the Gryffindor sword."

"Ah, yes, I see the name on it now. And this one?" Paul pointed to a small shadowy figure behind the rest.

"Me when I was younger," he answered. "See, everyone will have to go through the rest before they find him."

"Okay," Paul acknowledged. "What about this one with the skull in his hand?"

"It's a little cliché, isn't it? He's the actor." Harry laughed to himself. "'Alas, poor Yorick. I knew him well, Horatio.'" Harry quoted.

"What's that from?" Paul wondered how many speeches Harry had memorized.

"Hamlet," Harry informed him.

"Uh-huh. And this one?" Paul asked.

"He's just Harry,"

Paul blinked. "Pardon?"

"It's just that I don't feel much like the person I thought I was. At Hogwarts, I kept saying that I was 'just Harry', but I don't feel much like 'just Harry'. I'm not that simple anymore. I've got so much going on and so many things to do that being 'just Harry' was kind of hindering me. I mean, I'm still Harry, but he's 'just Harry'. Nothing special. I think I've finally realized that I have a lot of responsibility to my family and to others. 'Just Harry' is a kid without a lot of worries. I do have those worries, those responsibilities. 'Just Harry' is a simpler version of 'Harry'. Did that make any sense at all?" He sounded quite frustrated with the idea.

"Yes," Paul said slowly. "It makes a lot of sense. I think it is safe to say that you've grown up a lot while at St. Jude's."

"That, or learned what was really important and what I could leave to other people." Harry said with a smile.

"Let's go with that idea," Paul said calmly. He studied the picture and smiled at the Harry standing in a suit, hair fixed in a fashionable way, and looking quite pleased with himself. "And this one?"

"The Potter heir," Harry said with a smile. "Remus says that I have a lot of responsibilities because of what my family used to be. They invested in a lot of businesses both in the magical and non-magical world. I always feel a little, I don't know, content when I look over the papers he has for me, or when I get a report on how well something is going for the companies. I like business for some reason. It's hard to explain."

"You're using talent that Hogwarts does not call for," Paul told him. "It's okay to feel a little smart when you're doing something for which you have discovered new talent." Paul could read through the lines of Harry's awkward speech. "Perfectly normal," he assured the boy.

"Uh, thanks," Harry said. "That one's me." He said, pointing to the last figure on the page. Paul studied and felt a smile start. This Harry looked like any other teenager, smiling at something he found intensely amusing and Paul also thought that he looked a little hungry. Typical teenaged boy, really.

"This is you, huh?" Paul squinted at the picture. "I don't know; it doesn't say 'Filthy Rich Super Powerful Wizard' to me," Paul teased.

"Ha. You're very funny, Paul. You know that, don't you?"

Harry lowered the last of his books into the carton and closed the lid. Let's see…magic books, journals, regular clothing, football, pictures, address book (THANK YOU, REMUS!!!), hairbrush, comb, toothbrush…how did I get so much stuff in one school year?

"Ready, buddy?" Paul asked from the doorway.

Harry turned and gave him a tremulous smile. "Yes and no," he answered as he closed the lid and sank down onto the bed. "I don't think I'm ready." He almost laughed. Bug and Sparky had said the same thing when they left two weeks ago.

"The real world's waiting for you," Paul said calmly. "I've taken you as far as I can. The rest is up to you."

"I know," Harry said as he pushed himself to his feet. "Thanks, Paul. 'Thanks' isn't enough, but-"

"Alright, enough of that!" Paul said with a laugh. "You did most of the work, Harry. Never forget that." Paul stepped closer to Harry and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders. "I'm very proud of you, Harry. You've done amazing work here."

Harry nodded. "Thanks," He said. He saw one of his guards poke his head into his room and then disappear. "It looks like they're ready to go, too."

"Yes. Come on, I'll help you with all of this stuff," Paul said as he gathered a few things in his arms. Harry grabbed the other one and headed downstairs where Petunia was filling out some paperwork.

"Just go ahead and put all of that into the boot, please," Petunia said without looking up from the paperwork. "I'll be done here in just a few minutes."

"Alright, Aunt Petunia," Harry led the way out to the car with one of the bodyguards trailing behind him. Note to self: Get rid of bodyguards. He and Paul loaded everything into the car and headed back into the building. Screams met their ears and they exchanged glances. Screams weren't exactly uncommon, but they were unexpected. It wasn't until Harry heard the word "snake" that he understood. "I think someone's looking for me." He told Paul as he started down the hallway.

"Oh, not Zen!" Paul moaned as he followed Harry.

The pair found two new girls, Anna and Margaret, crouched against the wall, cornered by Zen.

"I know you know where he is! CONFESS!" Zen hissed irritably.

"Girls," Harry said to get their attention. Anna looked up. "He won't bite you. Just come over here." It took them a few seconds to creep around Zen before thanking Harry and fleeing down the hallway to safety.

"Zen, that wasn't nice," Harry said once the hallway was clear and no one but Paul and the bodyguards were around.

"Nice? What do you know about nice?! You were going to leave without saying goodbye to poor little Zen!" Harry was sure that snakes couldn't cry, but Zen was managing a fair imitation.

"I could have never left without saying goodbye to you," Harry told the little snake as he picked him up

"Really?" Zen asked.

"Really. Oh, Paul has a mouse for you," Harry said as he stroked a finger along Zen's back.

"A mousey? For me? Really?" Zen practically quivered with excitement.

"Yes, really. Why don't we get that for you now?" Harry led the way to the office.

"Here mousey, mousey, mousey!"

"You take care of yourself," Paul said as the two of them followed Petunia out to the car.

"I will," Harry said as he opened his door. "You, too."

Paul nodded and pulled out a camera. "May I take a picture of you?" He asked Harry, holding up a camera.

Harry looked at Petunia for permission; she simply nodded. "I'll take one of the two of you," she said as she came around the car. Paul smiled and handed off the camera.

"We're not going to get all touchy-feeling, are we?" Harry asked as Paul threw an arm around his shoulder.

"Course not," Paul said. "I'll just limit the kissing."

Harry snorted as his aunt counted down. "Smile!" Aunt Petunia called out. Harry grinned at the camera as the flash went off. "Nice one!" She called out.

"Thank you, Petunia," Paul said as he retrieved his camera. "I'll send you copies."

Harry nodded and climbed into the passenger seat. Paul stepped back and Harry fastened his seat belt. He and Paul waved to each other until they lost sight of each other.

"I hope you're hungry," Petunia said as Harry turned his attention towards the road.

"Hungry? I'm a teenager; I'm always hungry."

"Good. We're having spaghetti for dinner tonight." Petunia told him.

"With meatballs?" Harry asked as the bodyguards started following in their own car.

"Of course," Petunia answered. "Remus is coming over for dinner, too. He said something about some papers you have to sign about a quidder pitch."

"Quidditch Pitch," Harry corrected with a smirk.

"Yes. What's that?" She asked in a curious tone.

"Quidditch is a wizarding sport…" The entire ride home was filled with discussion of Quidditch. Petunia sounded like a new convert when she started asking for the history of the sport.

Harry closed his closet door and smiled to himself. It was good to be home with his aunt. He would miss St. Jude's, sure, but he was beginning to see the benefits of being home, like unlimited access to the kitchen. Aunt Petunia had mentioned something about mint chocolate chip ice cream in the freezer.

Hedwig screeched as Harry's Mini-Messenger alerted him to a new message. "Easy, girl. It's just parchment," he said as he picked it up.

Dear Skywalker,

I thought you'd like to know what's going on at Hogwarts. Dumbledore is still in the care of Madam Pomfrey, though McGonagall has said that "hopes remain high for a full recovery".

The Daily Prophet is still forbidden, now a decree of the Ministry, but the school paper is going strong. We have a guest columnist that contributes an article about what the first war against Voldemort was like. I have my suspicions, but Drake refuses to confirm them. Git.

Ron seems quite taken with Lavender Brown…the two of them are disgusting together. I'm sure it's all hormonal. Neville spends quite a bit of time with Luna, Ginny with Dean (and Dean's still alive), and that's about it in the relationship department.

Professor Zareh is jumpy as a cat. He nearly hexed Professor Sprout yesterday in the hallway when she coughed. I don't know what he's on about.

Muggles are appearing in the Hospital Wing on a weekly basis. Madame Pomfrey says that they all have been tortured with the Cruciatus Curse. I happened to walk in for something to ease my…well, never mind why I was there, but I heard the tail end of the conversation. Apparently, Voldemort's student is responsible.

I have many questions, of course. Who is he? Why is he sending Muggles to Hogwarts? Does he not realize that Apparating in and out of Hogwarts is impossible? Is he a student here? I can't imagine sitting next to Voldemort's student in class. I suppose my questions will go unanswered. I have an essay to finish, so I'll write to you later.

Love,

Mi

P.S. Victor Krum wrote to me. He's going to be in London this summer and has asked to meet me, you know, to show him around and the like. I said yes, of course. H

Harry smiled at Hermione's message and picked up his own pen.

Dear Mi,

That's great about Victor. Just let him know he'll answer to me if he does anything to you.

So, Dumbledore is going to make a full recovery? Perhaps Madame Pomfrey should keep him longer and see if she can cure him of his lemon drop addiction.

I have a feeling your anonymous columnist is none other than our favorite Potions master. You can even tell Drake I said so.

Cupid's been making the rounds at Hogwarts? Just tell Ron to keep the snogging away from my bed. I have to sleep there next year! Neville and Luna? Strange, but to each their own. Dean and Ginny?! I'm amazed Dean is still alive, but I guess that's because Ron is spending a lot of time with Lavender.

I wonder why Professor Zareh is so nervous. That's interesting. Maybe he's fighting the urge to leave. After all, it's getting to be that time of year when our Defense teachers leave Hogwarts for one reason or another.

THERE ARE MUGGLES APPEARING IN THE HOSPITAL WING?!?! How is that possible? Hermione, you can't be stumped! I need you to explain it to me. Please come back to your senses and clarify the matter in your usual brilliant manner.

I'm home now…how strange to think of Privet Drive as home. It's bizarre. This is the place I grew up, but it's not. Different. It's more welcoming, more like home. I'm a little nervous, honestly. I don't know what's going to happen with my aunt. She seems like she's changed, but I worry that I'm going to turn around and she'll be the same as she always was. Am I worrying needlessly?

My tests are being scheduled for sometime in the coming weeks. My aunt has planned quite a few trips to London, just for fun, I think. She wants me to go with her when she goes to pick up Dudley at school. I'm not sure I want to go, because the bodyguards will have to go with us and I'm so tired of them, truth be told. We'll see what happens.

Love,


Skywalker

He hated not telling his friend everything, absolutely everything. He wanted to tell someone that he felt like his life was swallowing him whole. He sighed in discontent. He knew that his success was only guaranteed by his secrecy. Only three people knew what Harry was doing: Sensei, Khalid, and Harry himself. He couldn't afford to tell anyone else. It's not as though you have people clamoring to know what you do at night, Potter. Quit feeling sorry for yourself.

Harry stood and went over to Hedwig. "You'd still love me, even with all of my secrets, right?" Harry asked the owl as he petted her. Hedwig nibbled his fingers and hooted. Harry smiled and scratched her head for a few more minutes before moving to the window and staring out of it. "Tom" had an appointment with his Dark Arts teacher that evening; he wasn't sure if Zareh would be able to continue the lessons. The man's nerves were worn to a thread. Dumbledore had not chosen a good spy this time; Zareh's guilt was starting to affect his performance, and Harry knew that one slip would give the entire game away to Voldemort.

Zareh lowered his wand and motioned for Harry to the same. Harry's eyebrows knit together and he frowned. "Is everything alright, William?" He asked softly as Zareh rubbed a hand across his forehead.

The man nodded and waved his hand in an absent way. Harry frowned again and moved closer to Zareh. The man just stood there with his eyes closed for a few seconds before opening them to face his student. He moved forward until he was no more than a pace away from Harry. "You don't really expect me to believe that you enjoy coming here, do you?"

Well, that's certainly blunt. Harry thought as he backed away from Zareh. How to answer this? "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Don't you?" Zareh asked. He rubbed his face again and sighed. "Look, Tom, I think you're a good kid." Zareh told him as he reached out and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "You can't really enjoy coming here, taking lessons from a Dark Lord, can you?" He asked earnestly.

"You're saying dangerous things, William." Harry said shortly as he backed away from Zareh. Honestly, Harry had known that Zareh could be a little reckless, but this behavior was just dangerous. If their Lord found out- WHAT DID I JUST THINK?! Harry turned away from Zareh and went to stare out the window to the cemetery below.

"I know people who could keep you safe," Zareh said from directly behind him. Harry hadn't heard the man come up behind him. He prided himself on the fact that he didn't jump. "They have safe houses, foster families for children, everything set up. You could be a normal teenager."

Harry closed his eyes and took a sharp breath. Yes, he would like to be a normal teenager again, but that choice was taken from him quite some time ago. He could relax at home, act like a teenager, but he wasn't one. He knew that, Remus knew that, and even Aunt Petunia was beginning to accept the idea. Harry opened his senses and found that Voldemort was still in what Harry liked to call "The Throne Room" down the hall.

"I could easily take you away from here, Tom." Zareh whispered to him. "You could be safe. Dumbledore would see to that."

Harry felt a brief surge of anger at the name of Dumbledore. Yes, he had decided to leave the man alone for now, but that didn't mean he liked Dumbledore. Mostly, he felt disappointed about having lost his illusions about Dumbledore; the man only cared for Harry when Harry was playing within his rules. Other than that, Harry was left to make his own way.

He couldn't believe that Dumbledore allowed such an asinine person to function as a spy. He had to eliminate the man from the post. There was no way Zareh would be able to continue in this role. He cared too much for "Tom".

"Like he kept Harry Potter safe?" He asked sharply. "No, I think not." Harry turned around and stared at Zareh. The man was staring back at him, as though he was trying to discover how Harry knew about Harry Potter. "Do you realize what you are saying?" He breathed to Zareh. "You are speaking of treason against our Lord."

"He's not your lord, Tom," Zareh said dismissively. "You're just a kid. Let me help you."

"I am beyond your help!" Harry snarled at Zareh. "I'll forget all about this if you stop speaking of 'help'." Harry offered.

"I don't want to leave you here to grow up into his little monster." Zareh pulled something out of his robes and tossed it at Harry. Portkey! Harry banished it with a thought. Zareh stared at him in surprise.

"You forget yourself, Zareh." Harry was starting to lose his temper with the pathetic spy. "Did Dumbledore send you on this mercy mission?" He growled. "Is Dumbledore trying to protect me now? Does he think me a savior, because I knew the Dark and turned away from it? Am I still a child in his eyes? Does he want to use me? My knowledge? My power? Does he want me to die for him? For the wizarding world?"

"You don't know what you're saying, Tom." Zareh almost stammered.

"Don't I?" Harry snapped. "I think I know all too well what Dumbledore is." Harry fought back his anger and a plan came to his mind. He had to save Zareh from himself. He advanced on the man and grabbed his collar. "I'll take my chances here."

Harry started dragging Zareh towards the door. Zareh tried to pull away from him. "What are you doing, Tom?"

"Saving you." Harry snapped as he dragged Zareh down to the Throne Room. The man struggled for a few seconds before Harry started strangling him with his collar. Zareh stopped struggling when he ran out of air. He slipped his mask back on and set his mouth in a straight line. He felt a role settling on his shoulders. He raised one hand and the doors opened with a thought.

"Child?" Voldemort asked as Harry stalked to the center of the room and tossed Zareh at the Dark Lord's feet. "What is the meaning of this?"

"I've found that spy you were talking about." Harry said as he bound Zareh with magical ropes. "He's in league with Dumbledore and offered me protection." The sneer came easily at the end of his words.

"Did he now?" Voldemort looked quite pleased at Harry's words.

"Yes, sir." Harry said. "I request your indulgence and allow me to deal with him." Harry noticed Zareh's eyes widen a little at the request.

"Why should I allow you such a pleasure?" Voldemort asked, but the man was obviously feeling charitable towards his student.

"He wanted to give me to a foster family. He wanted to turn me over to Dumbledore. That's enough." Harry told Voldemort sharply.

Voldemort stared at him for a minute, as though sizing up Harry's motivations. "I agree. Deal with him as you like."

"Thank you."

Harry flicked his wand and Zareh moved to the center of the room. "Tom, don't do this!" Zareh said breathlessly. He sounded scared. How odd.

"You forget yourself, Zareh." Harry told him as he looked down at him. "I'm the young Dark Lord!" Harry raised his wand, focused his magic, and started playing with many levels at once. Zareh appeared to be in the greatest pain of his, screaming, foaming at the mouth, eyes rolling to stare at the back of his head. Harry knew that he was feeling only mildly confused, as though he knew something was wrong, but couldn't care. Harry treated this as an exercise Bleys would assign. Play with the levels of magic, control them all at once, and create an illusion that was so convincing it looked real.

The Death Eaters all drew away from the center of the room. Harry could practically taste the fear radiating off of them. He understood their feelings; he was (to all appearances) torturing a man without the need to say a spell. Harry felt the strain starting to build and he tilted his head to the side. He just needed to…there!

Zareh disappeared as Harry activated the Portkey all Order members carried to ensure their safety. He lurched forward, as though he couldn't believe what had just happened. He looked at Voldemort and allowed his anger at everything to show in his eyes.

"He was in the Order of the Phoenix, my child." Voldemort said. "They often use spells, portkeys, and other trickery to escape me. You didn't know to check. I'm not angry."

"I am." Harry told him. "May I finish what I started when the time comes?"

"All that and more, my child. Anything you wish." Voldemort came forward and rested a hand on his shoulder. "You're coming along nicely." He whispered to Harry. "Go home for now. I'll call you when I want you." He said in a louder voice. Harry bowed slightly from the waist and inclined his head towards Voldemort. Death Eaters scrambled out of his way as he left the room. Perfect.

The Order of the Phoenix was meeting again in the Great Hall. Minerva McGonagall had questioned the wisdom of continuing the meetings without Albus, but all of the representatives didn't seem upset to hear that the older wizard had taken time off for his health. So far, everyone had believed her story and no one had questioned it.

Albus was secured in the Hospital Wing under the no nonsense care of Madame Pomfrey. Minerva simply could not believe that Albus Dumbledore had taken such a far leave of his senses. He had nearly killed a student! Minerva couldn't let that happen, but she also couldn't put Albus anywhere else. He was too much of a target to put him into hospital and allowing him to take over his own care was only inviting trouble. No, it was best that he stay at Hogwarts, where more than one person could keep an eye on him. Minerva had even had a portrait installed in his room, so that she would know how he was with only a question to the adjourning portrait. She felt terrible, turning Hogwarts into a prison for him, but it was the only option she could see.

She and everyone else was startled when Professor Zareh appeared on the floor directly in front of the Head Table. He was still wrapped in magical ropes and there was a sheet of parchment attached.

"Out of the way!" McGonagall knew about the Muggles appearing on an almost daily basis in the Hospital Wing; Zareh was the first to appear in ropes. She cast a few detecting spells over the man, and found nothing at all. A quick Finite took care of the ropes and Zareh stood up. "William, what happened?"

"The Dark Lord's student has declined our offer of protection from the Dark Lord. After that, I'm not too clear on events." He removed the parchment from his robe and stared blankly at it before handing it to McGonagall. "I'm afraid my position has been compromised." He said slowly. He blinked and grimaced. "And I've got a touch of headache." He said as he raised a hand to his forehead.

"That's all I need to hear!" Madame Pomfrey appeared out of nowhere and proceeded to usher Zareh from the room.

McGonagall looked down at the parchment in her hand and studied the writing there. Her eyes widened in shock and she had to wonder on which side Voldemort's student belonged.

Your spy was pathetic and courting death. I removed him from his position for his own safety. If there is anything you and your Order need to know, I will tell you. Keep this parchment for further correspondence.

The Order meeting broke up after Zareh had been carted off to the Hospital Wing. McGonagall returned to her office and studied the parchment. She cast every spell she could on the parchment, but other than a mild enchantment that was perfectly harmless, nothing was wrong with it. She picked up a quill and paused before scratching out a sentence.

My name is Minerva.

She was surprised to see an answer right away.

Hello, Minerva.

Well, at least the other person said hello!

May I ask who you are?

She waited impatiently for the answer to appear. She knew some of the children these days were using tiny books that passed messages back and forth. This parchment appeared to work on much the same principle.

You may ask, but I do not have to tell you. Call me Tom if you need a name.

Tom? How interesting.

Is that your real name?

The other person paused for a few minutes before answering.

No. Is Minerva your real name?

McGonagall decided that she liked this other person. She dipped her quill into ink again.

Yes, it is, though I'm mostly called 'Professor' these days.

You must be a very smart person.

McGonagall chuckled a little.

May I ask how you created such useful parchment?

McGonagall conjured up tea and a few biscuits while waiting for the next answer.

Do you always ask permission before asking questions? I've never heard of anyone doing anything like that before. Yes, you may ask. I'll answer now. I found the spell in a book. A Charms book.

She read over the answer. This was a lot of fun and she was surprised to find herself smiling as she wrote out her next message.

Very clever, Tom. I'll have to look for that spell. Are you the same person who sent me this parchment?

She drummed her fingers as she waited for an answer. Tom was taking longer and longer to answer.

I am.

Oh, finally an answer.

Are you the Dark Lord's student?

She glared at the parchment after a full five minutes passed. She let out a sigh of relief as an answer appeared.

Yes.

Do you really enjoy being the Dark Lord's student?

The answer didn't come for almost a full minute.

Sometimes.

Minerva was surprised at the answer. She couldn't imagine any teenager enjoying the lessons Zareh described.

Really?

Oh, that had to be the stupidest question she had ever asked!

It's a challenge. Is Dumbledore still in the infirmary?

McGonagall actually jumped and stared at the paper. How had the boy known?

I have many sources about Hogwarts, just as I have sources about the Dark Lord.

The message appeared without any prompting on her part. More writing appeared and she read it with a curious eye.

I know that many people wouldn't trust me, and I honestly couldn't blame you. If I were playing the games you are, I wouldn't trust me either. I can say that I will never lie to you in matters of safety for members of your Order.

McGonagall could only gape. How?

How do you know all of this?

She smirked as the answer appeared. Oh, she liked this person.

I'm the champion.

Author's Note 2: This chapter wasn't beta-read. I wanted to get it out to you all as soon as possible, so if you see any glaring mistakes, misspellings, etc. please let me know on the forum.

NOMINATE HARRY'S NEXT ROLE! - Harry isn't going to be gone from the theater for long. Take a quick look at the forum and post your suggestion for Harry's next role. ;)