AUTHORS NOTE: The Rotten Writer returns, Gang. Many apologies for the delay, especially since it wasn't nearly as productive as I'd wished. Alas, life intervenes, as it will, and I haven't gotten nearly as much pre-written as I really wanted to, but, the show must go on and all that jazz, so here we are.

This little chapter marks the beginning of Part Two of Soul Scars and our foray into our intrepid hero's second year at Hogwarts School of Chaos and Misery- I mean Witchcraft and Wizardry… of course.

As you guys know, at the end of the last chapter, Harry is now the temporary ward of Madam Amelia Bones so there's going to be changes ahead that I hadn't originally intended. And aside from life getting in the way a lot of the delay here has come about from a rethinking of some of my story points. So with Second Year, look for things to start taking a bigger shift away from the original canon material. The really major points will still be pretty close, but I'm moving things further into my AU that I've got going here and I'm hoping to present an entertaining story.

Disclaimer: I still own nothing Harry Potter related, not even any licensed merchandise save the books themselves.

So here we go with a quick little chapter to wet our whistles before we dive into the meat and grit of Year Two at Hogwarts I present to you Chapter 15 of Souls Scars

Soul Scars Part Two

Darkness Within

By,

Rtnwriter

In the Ministry of Magic, there exist many departments, each dealing with a portion of Wizarding society. None of them are more shrouded in secrecy than the Department of Mysteries, hidden deep within the ministry itself. In the early hours of the morning, there was no one present throughout much of the Ministry, and thus, there was no one to notice the tree on the wall of a certain room.

Hardly anyone ever entered that room. It was a room where the Unspeakables studied some of the most potent, most powerful magics that existed anywhere in the world. And in that room there was a chart, like a family tree that spread across one entire wall. Dozens of feet high and more wide it listed every living which or wizard in Great Britain. Lines connected various names. Lines that indicated parents, siblings, spouses, and potential soul mates.

Parents and siblings were connected by a simple, black dotted line to indicate the familial relationship between them. Spouses were connected by a solid red line to show they were married and their marriage was recognized by both Wizarding law and by magic itself.

Soul mates were connected by a gleaming silver dotted line until they met and if they ever entered into a relationship then those lines would become solid.

There were only a handful of solid silver lines on the entire wall.

On the night of November 1st, 1981, the name Harry James Potter flashed once, twice, a third time, and from his name three silver dotted lines extended outward. When the lines reached the names of three young witches all four names flashed again and the simple dotted lines grew and thickened into a solid unbroken silver bar connecting their names together.

A moment later they flashed again, the brilliance of the light bathing the entire room in a soothing glow before fading away, leaving three gleaming golden lines connecting the four names together. Slowly, silver dotted lines extended out as all the names on the wall shifted and moved, creating a clear space for the four names to occupy.

Each witch was connected to the name Harry Potter by the gleaming golden lines. Each witch was also connected to the others with simple dotted silver lines.

For years, the room became quiet and still once again, only changing when a new witch or wizard was born or married. Small shifts. Small changes in the tapestry of the living Wizarding world.

In the middle of the evening of September 1st, 1991 there was another large shift on the family tree of Wizarding Britain. The name Harry James Potter flashed brightly, once, twice, a third time. The names of three witches, Hermione Jean Granger, Susan Amelia Bones, and Daphne Annabelle Greengrass flared with light, bathing the room in a soothing radiance before it dimmed.

Each witch was connected to the name Harry Potter by gleaming golden lines, and suddenly, each witch was connected to the others by a solid golden line connecting all four in equal measure.

In early June of 1992, the door to that room was slowly opened for the first time in nearly twenty years.

#####

Director Croaker sped quickly through the subterranean halls of the Ministry of Magic. The missive he'd received had been unbelievable, even for one in his position as Director of the Department of Mysteries. It couldn't really be possible, could it? How had no one noticed until now? How long ago had it happened?

That was a stupid thought, he admonished himself, it was obvious when at least part of it happened. Halloween, 1981.

As he walked, his dark, completely obscuring cloak keeping any hint of his appearance hidden, he saw others from his department dotting the halls. Even amongst the Unspeakables, those who dealt regularly with the greatest mysteries of the universe, the discovery held great potential, and drew many curious stares. He wished his people were above the usual rubbernecking and general curiosity that found many people poking their nose into things that were none of their business, but, then again, if his people weren't frightfully curious, they would never have become Unspeakables.

"Sable," he barked, the charms on his robes distorting and obscuring his voice as he approached the Unspeakable guarding the door. "Tell me this isn't a joke." He came to a stop next to his old partner and waved the piece of parchment that he still held in one tightly clenched fist.

"Not at all, Director Croaker. I discovered it myself earlier this evening." Without another word Sable pushed open the door and waved for the Director to precede them. Croaker had no idea if Sable was male or female, even after twenty years of acquaintance, no one knew who was an Unspeakable, not even the other Unspeakables. Croaker did have a series of files with the full identities of each of his operatives, but he only ever checked on a specific operative if it became necessary for some reason or another.

He'd only had to check twice in the last ten years.

Croaker swept through the door and turned immediately to the large chart on the wall. What he was looking for was easily identifiable as the only spot of gold in the entire chart amongst a web of red and black solid and dotted lines mixed with splashes of silver here and there.

"Take down those names," he ordered immediately. "Get Scimitar, Jimpul, and Kukri to gather their teams. I want those three names under deep surveillance right now."

"What about Potter?" Sable asked as three tiny motes of light left his wand and sped away.

"Unless I miss my guess, he'll be with one or all of these girls at nearly all times. If he separates from them out in the open have one member of each team split off and coordinate surveillance on subject Potter." Croaker paused studying the gleaming lines for several long moments.

"When was the last time there was an active Soul Bond?" he asked, suddenly.

"Not for several centuries," Sable responded without hesitation. "I haven't yet discovered the last confirmed case in the archives to give you a more accurate time frame."

"First confirmed Soul Bond in centuries," Croaker mused. "And the first ever case of a multiple relationship. Four of them in one bond, that is… extraordinary." He spun and left the room with Sable right behind him. As the door swung shut two Unspeakables melted our of the shadows and took up a post on either side of the door.

"I want someone checking that room every hour on the hour until I say otherwise. Get those surveillance teams in place and I want reports daily, more if something unusual happens."

"Unusual?"

Croaker smiled even though he knew it wouldn't be visible to his companion. "Trust me, they'll know if they see it."

"What about when the targets return to school? They're just beginning the summer break right now."

"We'll figure it out when the time comes, though I doubt that we'll be discontinuing our observation. For the purposes of the report… Potter is designated White King, Granger is designated White Queen, Bones is designated White Bishop, and Greengrass is designated White Rook."

He pushed open the door to his office and settled himself at his desk.

"Any designations for others in their presence?"

"Not at present- wait… Amelia Bones… designate her Red Queen and Cyril Greengrass…. Black Rook."

Sable showed no reaction but Croaker could tell his old friend was startled.

"Black? You feel Lord Greengrass is possibly an enemy of the Potter boy?"

"Cyril Greengrass is darker than most people know and he's worked very hard to keep those in the know to a minimum. I've no idea how he'll take this information if he doesn't already know but until we know more I'm not going to assume he's on Potter's side. You know what's in the Hall as well as I do."

Sable nodded, the shifting hood of the figure's cloak the only indication of the motion.

"Are we only observing the subjects, Director?" Sable asked. "If they appear to be in any imminent danger are we to intervene?"

Croaker considered that for a moment. "With the bond as it is… if one of them is in mortal peril then all of them are…" he trailed off for a moment in thought before leaning forward in his seat. "Observation only unless or until they are truly in severe danger that they don't seem capable of solving themselves. I'll leave that decision up to the individual teams but I'll expect a complete report on any incidents and pensieve memories will be taken for any situations that the teams directly involve themselves in. Also, in the event that intervention is necessary the teams are to still do everything in their power to remain invisible to the subjects, particularly subject White King.

"And get someone down to Hogwarts. I want a full report of everything that happened there this past year. My contact in the school has sent some… unusual missives. One of those claimed that the Potter boy actually died about a week before the end of the year. For nearly two hours before spontaneously reviving. I want this confirmed or proven inaccurate one way or the other. Have the investigator start with Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing, they are to avoid all contact with subject Whiskers."

"Understood Director."

"Dismissed."

Sable stood and left the office without a word and Director Croaker leaned back in his seat, staring blankly ahead as his mind whirled. Looked like life was going to get severely interesting in Wizarding Britain.

Croaker couldn't decide if he was excited and curious about the chaos he knew was on the horizon, or if he was terrified.

#####

Harry Potter was eleven-years-old, soon to be twelve. For ten years of his life he had lived a miserable existence in the home of his relatives. His aunt, his mothers sister, along with her husband and son had made those ten years as difficult and painful for him as they could possibly manage.

His body bore the marks of their efforts to stamp out anything that they'd deemed 'not normal'. Scars. Dozens of them covered his torso, front and back, his arms, and even his legs. Harry knew scars. He was very familiar with scars. Especially the one that stood out on his forehead. That scar… that scar was a mark that made him an extremely famous individual.

Harry Potter's relatives had been right about one thing, though. Harry wasn't normal. He was a wizard. More than that, he was one of the most famous wizards alive. Known as the Boy-Who-Lived for his defeat of the Dark Wizard Voldemort when he was still just a baby. It was the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead, the souvenir of that night, that made him so famous for his survival, where, throughout history, every other person subjected to that terrible curse had all died without fail. Only he had ever survived it, and not one person knew why.

At the moment, it was July 30th, 1992, and Harry was crouched behind a low stone wall. His heart pounded in his chest as the blood rushed through his veins. He struggled, strained to quiet his ragged breathing as he peeked over the wall in search of the enemy. A glance across the lawn showed a figure lying in the glaring sunlight, wild brown hair strewn around her head.

She wasn't moving.

His eyes flicked to the left and he found a splash of red on the deep green of the grass.

Dammit, he thought. Susan and Hermione… where is Daphne?

He ducked down as a bright flash of color flew past his head and impacted a tree behind him and he scurried along the length of the wall, cursing under his breath. He slid around the corner and sprinted across the grass toward the relative safety of the building beyond.

The moment before he passed the space in between Hermione's and Susan's still forms, they both exploded into motion, rising up to their knees and firing on him.

"Holy crap, that's cold!"

He stopped and glared at Hermione and Susan who were both rolling on the ground, laughing, as water, cooled to just above freezing, dripped from his hair and clothes.

"You two are supposed to be on my side," he complained. "What the heck was that?"

"The rest of us were getting tired of not being able to hit you, Potter," a voice drawled from behind him and he turned to find the rest of the group all standing on the patio behind Bones Manor. Tracey Davis, the one who'd spoken, had a smug smirk on her lips as she hefted a brightly colored water balloon in one hand. Neville Longbottom was giving him an apologetic look, but still held two balloons of his own. Hannah Abbot and Daphne Greengrass both smiled brightly while the Weasley twins grinned maliciously.

Despite them turning on him, Harry was inordinately pleased. A water balloon fight with his friends during the summer holiday. He'd never felt more like a normal kid in his entire life.

He sighed and held his hands out to his sides, dropping the balloons he'd been holding. "All right," he said. "I surrender."

"Get him!"

"COOOLLLLLLD!"

#####

"It was a really fun day," Harry said, a broad grin on his face that he hadn't been able to shake all day. "Neville came over to the Boneyard for a birthday party that we put together for him. A bunch of us from school just played games and ate junk food, and basically had fun all day."

"That's great, Harry," Healer Gant told him, grinning in response to Harry's exuberant glee.

"Of course, the girls had to pull a fast one. I helped plan the party for Neville, but they decided to make it a double party for Neville and me since my birthday is tomorrow."

"And you don't mind not having a party of your own?"

Harry shook his head and took a sip from a bottle of butter beer that he held loosely in one hand. They were in the sitting room downstairs, hours after the party had broken up and their friends had all returned home. Daphne and Hermione were staying the night since they planned to have a minor celebration the next day in honor of Harry's twelfth birthday.

"Nah," he said. "I've never had a party of my own before so I don't mind. And honestly, to have two different parties one right after another is a bit much. That's a lot of work and it's easier just to get everyone together for one day. Besides, I like Neville. He's a good guy and a good friend. I'm pretty happy to share a party with him. And the girls were saying we could switch it up, like next year we'll hold a joint party on my actual birthday for Nev and I and just switch back and forth." He shrugged one shoulder. "I don't know, I kind of like that. Neville really has been a great friend and I like sharing something like that with him."

Gant smiled again and glanced over his notes.

"All right. I know I've been out of town for a few weeks. Last time we met was just after school let out, so why don't we go over what's been happening since then?"

Harry shrugged and leaned forward in his seat to set his empty bottle on the table between them.

"What'd you want to know?"

"Well, wasn't your uncles trial set for the week after you got back?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

"What was the result?"

"He was found guilty. I wasn't there. With the evidence they'd put together Amelia said I didn't have to be there and I have no idea how long he was sentenced for but she promised me that there was no way in hell that I would ever have to deal with him again."

"I probably shouldn't be, as it's likely not very professional of me, but I'm pretty pleased to hear that myself," Gant admitted.

"Yeah, you should have seen how excited the girls were. I thought my ears were going to start bleeding when all three of them started squealing," Harry said with a quiet laugh. "Even Daphne, that was a huge surprise. I don't think I've ever seen her like that."

"What about your aunt and cousin?"

Harry frowned at that. "Meh, the officers decided that, since Dudley is a minor they couldn't really charge him with anything, but the judge did say that the muggle child services would be dropping in to check on him and my aunt from time to time and they expected to see improved behavior from him. Aunt Petunia was declared as being in fear for herself and her son in regards to Vernon's temper and rages. She didn't really do anything to stop him, but she never actually hit me herself or anything."

He fell silent, a pensive expression on his face. He still didn't like talking about his past, and even though this particular topic just really skirted to edges of that subject, it was still too close for comfort.

Gant made a humming sound, neither positive or negative, just acknowledging that he'd heard what Harry said.

"Speaking of your relatives, and what they did. You made your appointment at Saint Mungos a couple weeks ago, right?"

Harry made a face at that that almost had the healer snort out a laugh.

"Yeah," he grumbled. "They made me stay for three days. The potions tasted worse than the ones Madam Pomfrey gives and I hurt like mad for a week after too."

"Well you did have a couple of dozen bone fractures and breaks that hadn't healed right. So they vanished the bones and just regrew them entirely. You've grown a lot in the last year, Kid, and while that's all good for you, those bones weren't doing you any favors. You'll be much healthier now."

"Doesn't make that Skelegrow crud taste any better," Harry grumbled but he was internally pleased about the visit. At least he wasn't likely to be the shortest person in his year anymore. He'd briefly had visions of arriving at school for the next year and finding himself to still be shorter than some of the new first years, but luckily that didn't appear to be a concern anymore.

"So what else has been going on?" Gant asked, drawing Harry out of his musings.

"Well, Amelia is still only a temporary guardian, at the moment. She's been working with Child Services because they need to put together an announcement. It's delicate though, so I'm told."

"How so?"

Harry shrugged. "They've got to put together a believable story. Amelia was explaining to me that the Ministry refuses to allow things like Orphanages in the wizarding world. Instead they put together a packet that goes out to families all over and even a piece in various news papers. The idea being that they want a magical family to take over the care and raising of a magical child."

"Well, that makes a degree of sense, to be honest."

"It does. The delicate part becomes where they need to figure out a way to put together a story that explains that I'm in need of a new legal guardian but somehow without making it obvious that the reason is because my relatives were abusive. Amelia says that if that comes out it'll just add ammunition to the pureblood supremacists in their agenda against muggles and muggleborn."

Gant winced. "Yeah, I hadn't considered that, but she's right. There are any number of people out there that would gladly try to take advantage of the fact that the Boy-Who-Lived was basically tortured by his muggle relatives." He eyed Harry carefully. "You seem to be taking all this very well," he added and Harry shrugged.

"It's been a good summer," he said. "I don't know… I'm just feeling better than I have in a really long time. I've been having fun. Amelia and Susan have really made me feel at home here over the last month. And Hermione and Daphne come over almost every day to work on our summer homework together and just spend time hanging out. We're going to all go to a muggle movie theater next week since Daphne and I have never been and she's never even heard of films before Hermione and Susan brought them up so it should be a lot of fun. I honestly can't say when my life has ever been so good as it feels right now."

"Any concerns going forward?"

Harry hesitated slightly and tugged at the hem of his shirt.

"Harry?"

He sighed and leaned back in his seat. "It's stupid," he muttered.

"If it's bothering you, then it isn't stupid. It might be wrong, or unfounded, but never stupid. Why don't we talk it over and we'll see if maybe I can give you some perspective?"

"I'm worried," Harry finally admitted after several more minutes of fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

"What about?"

"The announcement. The whole 'let's put Harry Potter on the open market for adoption' thing."

"What worries you about it? It seems like it'd be a good opportunity for you."

Harry shrugged. "I don't know," he muttered. "I just don't like being the center of attention."

"You're famous kid, there's not really much chance for you to avoid that, as much as you might dislike it."

"I know," he grumbled and slumped down in his seat.

Gant nodded, chuckling lightly. "Yeah, I can only imagine how frustrating it's got to be, but one thing you might consider?" he added, catching Harry's attention. "In the future, you might find yourself in a position where you can use that fame to your advantage. You might not like it, but it could come in handy."

Harry snorted derisively. "Can't imagine how, but I'll take your word for it."

Gant checked his watch. "Been a little over two hours Harry, and I gotta say, I'm pleased with your progress. I wanted to take some time to go over what happened at Hogwarts before you left but we did discuss it last time. No more nightmares or anything?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "No I've been sleeping okay, actually.."

Gant eyed him for a moment before giving a short nod. "All right, then. Why don't you head out and find something fun to do, I need to talk to Amelia for a moment."

Harry nodded and practically leapt to his feet. "All right, Thank you, Healer Gant, and I'll see you next week."

After Harry left, Gant sat and waited, staring off into space until the door opened and Amelia Bones entered the room, taking her place in the seat Harry had just left.

"Well?" she asked after several long moments of silence.

"You were right," he admitted with a deep sigh, considering the cheerful, happy kid he'd just spent two hours talking to. "He's a complete and utter mess." He fought the urge to sigh again and just sank back into his seat.

"I thought so," she muttered, frowning. "He just… he seemed too happy, too upbeat. After everything he went through at the end of last year and with his uncle's trial a few weeks ago and everything… it just struck me as strange that he was so…" she trailed off, waving one hand in a vague gesture.

"I see what you mean, and I agree. I can't say for sure, but this situation, his placement here with you and Susan… that's got to be hard for him. As much as he wants it, as much as he's sure to appreciate what you've given him here… I've seen it before. These kids they try to reinvent themselves, try and conform to some preconceived notion of what they need to do to make you happy with them.

"I think, and this is only a guess, but I think the way he's acting, being so happy and cheerful, I think he's trying to keep from annoying or worrying anybody. He's probably worried you'll decide he's too much hassle or work to deal with and chuck him back to the system, or worse, send him to his aunt."

Amelia almost looked outraged for a moment before settling on morose. "I would never do that," she said. "He's a good kid, and he deserves a good home and people to care about him."

Gant observed her for a moment as she appeared to get lost in her own thoughts. It was a side of Amelia Bones that few people ever got to see. Most only knew her as the hard ass Auror and head of the DMLE. Few ever got to see the caring mother that lurked beneath the surface of her hard edged exterior.

"Maybe you should discuss that with him?" he suggested. "I know that, earlier in the month, we decided to let him work through some things on his own. He needs help, yes, but we can't hold his hand all his life either, he's got to learn to work through some of these issues and concerns and deal with them on his own. But I think it might be time to go ahead and give him a little nudge in the right direction. Let him know that, even if he's not perfect or makes mistakes, you're not going to abandon him."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I think we'll do that." He quirked a brow at her but she didn't noticed as she stared off into space, chewing on her lower lip for a moment. "I thought I had this down, ya know?" she said, suddenly. "After raising Susan, and seeing the wonderful girl she's become… I really thought I had this whole parenting/guardian thing in the bag."

Gant snorted a small laugh and nodded. "Harry comes with a unique set of challenges for any parent or guardian. You're not doing anything wrong, as far as I can tell. The first night here you made sure to give him his own room, his own personal space. You gave him general rules to work within and a specific expectation of acceptable and unacceptable behavior as well as explanations as to why those things are that way. No one is faulting you or blaming you here. If anything, Harry holds more blame for not talking to you about his concerns, but at the same time it's what he's been conditioned to do. It'll take time for him to adjust."

"I don't want to hover," she said. "I've never been a broomstick parent so I've been trying to give him his space and let him come into his own."

"And that's a good thing. The challenge with kids like Harry, though, is knowing when to give them that space and when it's time to step in, or even to take over entirely. I don't think the take over entirely option will ever really work well with Harry, though, he's got far too strong an independent streak, even if it was created out of trauma. But, knowing when to offer a shoulder, or an ear, or a hand… that's where you'll need to learn to shine, Amy. And if anyone can do it, I have every bit of faith in you and the girls to help him get to where he needs to be.

"He's already leaps and bounds ahead of where he was last Christmas, but he's still got a long road ahead of him. Harry has a lot of things that he needs to unlearn, and even more things that he needs to learn to accept. He puts a lot of blame on himself and expects better of himself with few expectations of those around him. He'll need to work on that, and many other things, but I think he's in a good place here to get that."

They fell into an easy silence for a time while he let Amelia consider that before he spoke again. "Any idea when you plan on talking to him?" he asked.

"Not tomorrow. Probably it would be best if I sat down with him the next morning before breakfast. We can sit and have a cup and chat." She smiled as she thought of the several times the two of them had already done exactly that, starting with the very first morning he spent at the Boneyard the previous year. It had become something of a tradition for them to spend their mornings with a cup of tea for her and coffee for Harry as they discussed small things.

They'd talked about his homework for the summer and she'd even offered him some tips on a few of his essays. They'd talked a bit about the events at the end of the previous year, and she felt she might have helped to put Quirrell's death into perspective for him, but she was beginning to doubt based on the conversation she was now having with the Healer.

"Why not tomorrow? Wouldn't it be better to get things out of the way sooner, rather than later?"

"Possibly. But tomorrow is his actual birthday, and the girls and I had planned to do something fun for him. I don't want to take any focus away from his first birthday spent with people that actually care about him by starting the day with such a heavy topic. The announcement is hitting the Prophet tomorrow morning too, and I think that's going to be enough that we'll need to distract him from."

He hummed again and nodded his head before standing and straightening his robes.

"Well, I'll see myself out," he said. "I'll see you and Harry next week."

"Have a good night, Richard," she said.

After he left, Amelia spent a few minutes longer just sitting quietly with her thoughts before she also stood and went in search of the kids.

#####

"Goodnight," Harry called over his shoulder, a small smile still on his lips as he entered the room that had officially been given to him as 'his' room. Amelia and Susan had both encouraged him to decorate the space how he wanted but he'd been reluctant to make any changes, not until he knew that he would be staying there permanently. Across the hall, the girls all wished him a goodnight as well and disappeared into Susan's room where they were sharing.

Harry hadn't quite figured that out since Hermione and Daphne both had their own rooms as well but he shrugged it off as one of those 'girl things' that boys just weren't meant to understand.

He closed the door and leaned back against it with a tired sigh as the smile fell away and he seemed to visibly age years in moments. His shoulders sagged, brow creasing as he seemed to shrink slightly in on himself, as if a great weight rested on his shoulders. He shuffled across the room and into the private bath, pulling his wand from his pocket as he went. Lamps lit up automatically when he entered the room and he stared into the mirror at his own face, taking a deep breath before he pointed the wand at himself and whispered a quiet 'finite incantatum'.

His face blurred, just slightly, as the glamour fell and he couldn't held but wince at the visage that greeted him. Worry lines and creases covered his brow. He eyes seemed sunken and hollow, deep, dark circles beneath them and his complexion appeared sallow. All in all, he looked like shit, and he felt like it too.

"You need to talk to someone, stupid," he argued with the face in the mirror. He didn't feel stupid about arguing with himself, it was something he had a habit of doing, honestly, and considering it took more than a week after the incident with the stone for him to even work up the courage to look into another mirror, he figured he was ahead of the game being able to argue with his reflection.

"I don't want to worry them," his reflection said back.

"They keep telling you that's what they're here for. They want to worry about you and help you, you bleed'n idiot."

"Doesn't make it something easy for me to do, as you well know," he shot back and the image in the mirror rolled its eyes at him.

"You're suppressing the bond again, so the girls don't feel it. You're having nightmares every night, you're barely getting any sleep and you're resorting to cosmetics charms to hide the fact from anyone and everyone!"

He frowned but didn't have much of a rejoinder to that.

"Dammit man, at least talk to Gant. Maybe he could prescribe something to help sleep?"

Harry sighed and turned on the hot water, washing his face and brushing his teeth quickly before he changed for bed. A pair of black sweat pants and a loose black long sleeved shirt. He gave a brief thought of thanks to whoever charmed the house so that it remained a comfortable temperature, even in the summer heat. He'd always been miserable having to wear long sleeves in the summer at Privet Drive, but if he'd ever bared his arms, ever showed the scars, he would have been beaten and tossed into his cupboard for it, so he'd always just born the discomfort and tried to keep as hydrated as possible.

He glanced at the bed after casting several silencing charms at the door but with a sigh he moved over to one of the chairs by the fire and collected a book off the low coffee table in the center of the space. Leaning back in the seat, he opened the book to a place marked with a simple envelope and gently ran his fingers across the aged parchment.

The envelope was old, yellowed with age and the writing was faded but still legible, his name, written in an elegant, flowing script. He set the book aside and pulled several sheets of parchment from the envelope, carefully smoothing them out on his thigh before he started to read them, again, by the light of the fire.

My Darling Boy-

I hope you never get this letter. I hope I've written this for no reason and that it has long since been burned. If you are reading it, then it means that we've failed. It means that your father and I are dead…

#####

"Hermione? Is everything okay?"

Hermione started and glanced up into a pair of deep blue eyes. She was sitting in a small chair next to Susan's desk in her room, a hair brush held forgotten in one hand. Absently, she noticed Daphne glancing over from the bed at Susan's question. They'd changed into their sleep wear immediately after being sent up to bed by Susan's aunt, and Hermione had sat down to try and do something with her hair before bed, but her mind had begun to wander, as it so frequently did, and she'd lost herself in thought.

"Honestly?" she asked, rhetorically. "I don't really know."

Susan looked over at Daphne for a moment, a look of confusion on her face, before she turned back to Hermione and leaned his hip against the desk, looking down at her friend and bond mate.

"What's wrong?"

Hermione sighed and shook her head, setting the brush aside only to find herself fiddling with the cuffs of her long sleeved top. She could just barely feel the scar on the inside of her left forearm though the tops thin material.

"Do you think Harry's been acting strange?" she asked hesitantly.

"Strange?"

She nodded. "Yes, something just seems… off with him, lately and I can't quite put my finger on it." If there was one thing that could be said about Hermione Granger, aside from her prodigious intelligence, was that she was also an extremely observant young girl, and Harry Potter had been a subject of her observations for their entire first year at Hogwarts. She hadn't been able to spend nearly as much time with him and the other girls over the summer as they'd done at school, but shed slowly been picking up on it over the last week or so.

"I mean… it sounds awful, and that's kind of why I haven't mentioned before but… do you think he's seemed a little too happy the last few weeks? And I haven't really felt his emotions much lately either. If he was really so happy, wouldn't we have been able to feel it?"

"I've been wondering about that myself, to be honest," Daphne admitted in a quiet tone. "But I've just been reminding myself that this whole situation is still new for him. He's gotta be a bit thrown off, a bit off balance. I don't know, he's been so much better the last couple months of school, right before that mess at the end of the year, right?"

Susan and Hermione nodded. Indeed, Harry had been doing considerably better. He didn't appear to be worse, but something about his cheerful demeanor just felt… wrong, somehow.

"Come on," Susan cut in and grabbed Hermione by the hands, pulling the shorted girl to her feet. "Tomorrow is his birthday, and we're going to help him celebrate and have fun, right? We're done with all our summer work and there's nothing to do between now and September 1st but to buy our school supplies after our letters arrive. Between now and then we've got nothing but fun and relaxation ahead of us."

Hermione seemed reluctant to agree, but Susan and Daphne managed to coax her into the bed where they laid, talking quietly for some time before slowly drifting off to sleep.

Across the hall, Harry dozed fitfully in the chair by the fire, the letter still clutched loosely in one hand as tear tracks dried on his cheeks.