Harry sighed as he put Tobin's Spirit Guide away when the train began to come to a stop. He'd found the book very interesting, as he'd been unaware that there were so many more types of ghosts and spirits than just those he was used to seeing at Hogwarts. It seemed Nearly-Headless Nick had been wrong in saying that only magical people could leave behind ghosts. They were simply more likely to, and the reasons for the non wizard ones tended to be different than his relatively simple, if strong, fear of death and what came after it.

Not to mention some of the spirits he'd read about not created from the remnant's or imprints of human souls, such as those in Japan. Things could apparently be much weirder than even most magical people knew.

He wondered if that knowledge would be relevant on this day, but set the thought aside. Deciding to get things over with, he quickly found a hotel room for a single night stay and left most of his things there before leaving for his destination. He didn't want to be here long.

Hermione was in her room, her new glasses perched on her nose as she read the numerology book Harry had sent with them, when her mother entered the room. "Mister Moody is downstairs, Hermione." She said, watching as her daughter took off the glasses that had impressed her and her husband quite a bit and set them aside, getting off of her bed with a look of surprise on her face.

She got downstairs to find Moody standing in the sitting room, her father sitting nearby and eyeing the man. Christopher had never hidden the fact that the retired auror made him a bit uneasy, something Moody himself actually seemed to approve of. "Mister Moody? Is something wrong?"

The man's fake eye swiveled to look at her before he turned to face her, which made her father cringe a bit. "Besides the fact that Potter is still eluding us, not really." He said, though he seemed a mix of both pleased and annoyed that Harry was managing to confound them so far. "We decided that it would be best if someone came to speak with you after he called rather than have you send a letter. That way we can ask questions that might lead to some information that might have been overlooked. I argued for having one of us speak to him directly the next time he calls, but Dumbledore says that risks him simply not saying anything, and maybe cutting communication off completely, which isn't something we're willing to risk at this point."

Hermione nodded in agreement to that. "I can see Harry doing that." She bit her lip. "Have you found any clues recently?" She wasn't exactly being kept abreast of how the investigation was going, so she was curious.

"We investigated the shops in Italy that the glasses he sent you could have come from, but neither had seen him. It's possible he had a proxy buy them for him, though trusting a stranger with that amount of money isn't something I think the boy is stupid enough to do, so it's more likely he was disguised in some way."

"They're expensive, then?" Christopher asked in curiosity, having wanted to know if he could perhaps get himself and his wife some pairs for their own use. Hermione inherited her love of books honestly, after all.

"Fifty galleons a piece." Moody said dismissively, which surprised the Grangers quite a bit, Christopher even coughing a bit in shock. All of them were well aware of how much that was, thanks to having to exchange pounds for galleons when doing back to school shopping.

"That much!" Ophelia exclaimed in surprise from where she was standing in the doorway behind her daughter, having followed her in.

"It's an expensive enchantment. I have it on my eye. It seems Potter isn't bothering to be frugal on this trip." He said before changing the subject and refocusing on Hermione. "Is there anything you can think of in his last call that you didn't include in your letter regarding it?" He asked.

Hermione blinked, thrown from her slight shock at the cost of the glasses before her mind switched tracks. "Ah, yes, actually. It didn't occur to me at the time, but when he mentioned his next destination he didn't sound happy to go there."

"He didn't?" Moody asked, both eyes focusing on her before he began murmuring to himself. "The entire purpose of this activity is supposed to be a holiday to relax and recuperate. Why would he purposely do something unpleasant?"

"From what I could tell, he felt that it was something he needs to do." She said carefully. "An obligation he has. I'm not sure what it could be, but something tells me it's related to the reasons he left in the first place."

Moody grunted in understanding. "Well, it's definitely a lead, if a vague one. I've made do with less." He took a swig from his flask. "Hopefully it at least won't be dangerous."

Hermione sighed and nodded, agreeing with that sentiment completely.

Arbeit Macht Frei.

That was what the sign that Harry was currently staring at said, and just seeing it chilled Harry more than January in Scotland.

Work Makes You Free.

The Auschwitz-Birkenau State Museum wasn't busy. There were a few people waiting for a guided tour, and several others wandering the grounds on their own, as was allowed. But the place was eerily silent, which just added to the ambiance and dread suffusing every inch of it, at least to Harry's senses.

Having paid to be able to wander the place alone, he walked through the gate holding those words and onto the grounds of Auschwitz I, feeling like a heavy blanket had settled over his shoulders, weighing him down. He'd read in Tobin's Spirit Guide that it was known that those that were more receptive to energy, including wizards and witches, could at times feel any distinctive spiritual residue of the places they traveled through.

It was no surprise that one of the biggest Nazi concentration camps ever, the one that had become synonymous with the atrocities of the era, would leave him feeling the way he was.

It wasn't exactly the sort of place he would have normally chosen for his holiday, but he felt it was important that he saw an example of the pretty much inevitable end result of Voldemort and his followers' ideology for himself. It was too easy to just say that things would be 'bad' if Voldemort won. Seeing for himself just what depths of cruelty and horror humanity could reach was a critical reminder of why he couldn't just run away permanently and ignore the war, much as he was sometimes tempted to on days like those when he'd still been reeling from Sirius' death (as if he still wasn't, in some ways).

He wandered among the penal barracks the prisoners had been held in, walking into one of the ones left open for visitors to see. The place was deplorable, and the conditions the prisoners would have no doubt have had to endure before their almost inevitable ends were no doubt horrific, as the pictures on display of the days when these barracks were occupied amply showed.

Another stop was the Execution Wall, a small stretch of wall between two buildings near the back of the compound where prisoners were taken to be shot en masse. There were flowers and wreaths from various visitors resting against it, hiding some of the bullet holes. He gazed at it, his mind's eye seeing people like the Creevey brothers in a similar situation, though what would come for them would obviously be spells, not bullets.

Closing his eyes and taking a shuddering breath he turned and continued wandering, eventually arriving at the opposite corner of the compound to the Execution Wall, which held some of the gas chambers. He stared at them long and hard, imagining Dean and Seamus inside, pounding instinctively on the door as they tried not to breathe in the poison. His jaw clenched at the thought, and he left with his head bowed slightly.

Auschwitz II obviously wasn't much better, and it was after seeing the ovens where the prisoners had been cremated that he had to sit down for a bit, his eyes closed as he settled on the ground. One of the pictures he'd seen showed the vast amounts of naked, withered corpses of the prisoners stacked up like cordwood without care or compassion, just as the Soviet soldiers that had liberated the camp had found them, and his imagination had put Hermione among them, discarded like a piece of rubbish that was just in the way and should be gotten rid of, without any acknowledgement she was even human.

"I won't let it happen again." He whispered softly, knowing that even as he spoke something similar was happening in some other part of the world, perhaps to a different demographic, for supposedly different reasons, leaving his words hollow, but he still meant them. "Voldemort, at least, won't be able to."

"Are you sure you can keep that promise?" A boy's voice asked in Polish next to him. He opened his eyes and turned to look at a boy of about eleven that was sitting next to him. The boy was looking at him with dark, jaded eyes, a look that didn't belong on such a face. "A single person can't stand up to humanity's cruelty." He said, his words far too mature and cynical for his apparent age.

Harry was silent for a moment, knowing that he couldn't lie. Not here, not to this boy, who's striped uniform hung off his malnourished body, the yellow Star of David stitched onto it standing out sharply. He opened his mouth before pausing, then finally speaking, simply letting the words tumble out of him. "There is just as much bravery and compassion, it can just be harder to see." He said, thinking about his friends, the members of the DA, even some of the activists and survivors he'd seen in the media, the kinds the adult Dursleys scoffed at. "Sometimes all that's needed to bring it out is something or someone to show them how." He looked up at the sky. "I don't want to be that person." He admitted. "But…" He paused, considering what he'd just seen, the fights he'd already been in, the people that had already fought and suffered on his behalf. Sirius falling through the veil flashed through his mind's eye again, followed by Flamel's words to him. He felt like he'd finally come to a decision. "I want to be a healer." He said suddenly, remembering his joy and satisfaction when he saved that boy in the auction house. "But… I can't be just that. I need to be a fighter too." He turned his gaze back to the young ghost. "Maybe a single man can't stand up against all of humanity's cruelty. But a single man can help others stand up to it, and those others can do the same for more." He nodded, to both the ghost and himself. "If I need to, I'll be that person."

He knew how that sounded, how egotistical that appeared, but…

"Why?" The ghost asked, still looking at him with dark, fathomless eyes.

Harry paused, but much like before, the answer came without any real thought on his part. "Because I can't not do something."

And that was the simple truth. All the insane situations he'd found himself in since the day Hagrid gave him his Hogwarts letter, at their core they were because he couldn't just stand back and do nothing, especially if others didn't seem to be willing or able to take action.

Apathy just didn't seem like something he was capable of, in most cases.

The boy stared at him for several long minutes longer before nodding. "Then, may you go with God's blessings." He said, in several voices, young, old, male and female, at once, before without warning, he was gone.

Harry blinked slowly, a bit nonplussed, wondering what he'd just spoken to that he'd believed to be a relatively simple ghost, before he shook it off and looked back up at the blue sky. He closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath, then got up and began leaving.

His oath and statement had been impulsive, but he'd meant it, and it felt like something had changed in himself in response.

Something told him it was for the better.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice Hestia Jones walking through the area, her head on a swivel as she walked right next to him in the opposite direction without knowing it.

Albus was taking a brief moment to relax between tasks, enjoying some of his candy, when Alastor signaled his intent to come through the floo. The old headmaster allowed himself to let out a brief sigh. His multiple positions had always kept him quite busy, but things since Voldemort had revealed himself were more hectic than they'd been in a decade and a half. Honestly, the time in which Cornelius had stripped him of his titles and duties outside of running Hogwarts had been almost relaxing.

Still, he allowed Alastor through, his old friend stomping in as he usually did. He hoped the old auror finally had some news on Harry's location. Having one less thing to worry about was always something pleasant. "Alastor, please, come in. Would you like some tea?" He asked, despite knowing the man wouldn't accept.

Alastor grunted, shaking his head as he sat down across from Albus. "Not thirsty." He said even as he took a swig of his flask, which he nowadays made sure at least one member of the Order inspected for polyjuice regularly. "I sent members of the Order to the few places we could think Potter might be going considering what Granger reported, including a few of her own recommendations, but if he was at any of them then either they missed him or he was well disguised." His tone said he thought the first option was the most likely, but he was leaving possibilities open.

Albus nodded. "Well, it's not too surprising that he might have left before any of our people arrived." He said. "Did you inform them of their new instruction if they find him?"

Alastor nodded. "Yes. They'll let Potter know that they won't bring him back immediately as long as he agrees to have a member of the Order accompany him."

Honestly, it wasn't a bad idea. The main problem the Order in general had with Harry leaving was that he didn't have any protection if he got into trouble. Him being out of Britain while Voldemort was looking for him would actually be safer for him, if he had some proper backup from them. So Dumbledore had reconsidered simply bringing him back immediately, willing to compromise by letting Harry have his holiday as long as he brought someone along.

Of course, for that to happen, they had to find him, first. Though Albus had asked Miss Granger to pass the message along during her next phone call with him. Hopefully he wouldn't be too obstinate about it, though Albus knew there was small chance of that. Teenagers were willful and bullheaded, Harry more than many. He likely wouldn't agree to such a condition unless he had no other choice, such as when he was caught red handed.

Not that Albus blamed him much. The pressures Harry had been forced to shoulder would make anyone want some peace and solitude. It was unfortunate that circumstances didn't really allow them to indulge him in his needs and desires.

"At least we can be sure he has not encountered any of Voldemort's people." Alastor said. "The bastard would have put out an ad in the Prophet if he had the boy in his grasp."

Albus nodded. Voldemort wasn't even aware Harry wasn't in the country, so the odds of the boy running into them was relatively low, if still too high for comfort. "There is that, at least."

Alastor took another swig of his flask and got back to his feet. "Well, we'll keep looking. It's only a matter of time." He said, fully expecting to be able to catch the boy eventually. He'd hunted down some of the most dangerous criminals of the last war. A teenager didn't stand a chance.

Albus nodded as Alastor left. If anyone could find Harry it would be him. Still, he'd seen too much of Harry to expect things to go as well as Alastor evidently believed they would.

As the fire settled back into its usual state, he turned back to some of the work on his desk. There was still much to do even beyond the search for Harry, and he might as well get to it.

The next day Harry found himself getting onto an airplane for the first time in his life, feeling an odd combination of nervousness and excitement.

He'd slept surprisingly well after his visit to Auschwitz, having expected bad dreams or trouble sleeping and getting neither, at least that he could remember. He wondered if his encounter with whatever that being wearing a child's face was was related. Still, he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

After waking up early he took a train to the nearest airport, Katowice-Muchowiec Airport, and after a quick meal he boarded, taking a seat and waiting for takeoff, his leg bouncing slightly.

Soon enough the plane was taxiing on the tarmac, and as it began to take off he looked out the window with interest, seeing the ground fall away. Within seconds they were higher than he ever could in a broom, and he grinned, enjoying the sight.

After a while of just staring like a child he sat back and closed his eyes, doing his best to relax. He had a few hours till they reached Amsterdam, so he might as well get some rest.

He wondered what he was going to encounter there. Hopefully it would be as relaxing as Vienna had been.

Well, at least I got one of the two chapters I owed everyone this month done.

I severely underestimated how busy I was going to be during the holiday season. UPS during this time of year is exhausting. Two weeks straight of constant overtime without a day off left me wiped out. I know that sounds like an excuse, but when I was basically only sleeping and working for that long, my motivation and drive were pretty much nonexistent.

Still, at least this one is done, even if I'm still behind on what I needed to get done, so let's focus on it.

I'm honestly not really satisfied by the Auschwitz visit. I don't feel I managed to give such an important moment the gravitas it deserved, especially there at the end. Still, I did my best, so I hope you all liked it anyway.

I changed my mind about sending him to Amsterdam, since I remembered another location I wanted him to go to that's nearby. That and I have an idea for some shenanigans. Hope you all look forward to it.

Not really too much more to say about this chapter, so I'll leave that there and go to my usual reminders.

As I've stated previously, my best friend and their roommate have a podcast. Yes, I know, everybody and their mother has a podcast these days, but I beg you to hear me out. It's called 'Two Idiots and a Dog', and they talk about pop culture in general with different shows for different topics. So far they've primarily done 'Idiots on Film', talking about classic or important movies, and another one called 'Idiots Unleashed', where they just take a topic their Discord members vote on and talk/argue/rant about it without a filter. The latest episode of 'Idiots on Film' was on 'The Adam Project', and their latest 'Idiots Unleashed' was on 'Origin Stories', how overdone they are, and how they are sometimes, but rarely, done well. So if you're interested, that's 'Two Idiots and a Dog' on most podcasting resources. Please check it out. For me? *puppy dog eyes*

Secondly, I am, as always, truly grateful for those of you who are willing to send a buck or two my way out of the kindness of your heart. I relied on all of you when I wasn't working, and it definitely still helps even now that I'm gainfully employed. Thanks to you I have more of a cushion to get things I still need or pay essential bills. Like Final Fantasy XIV. (Speaking of, Ryuma Hyurinmaru on the Coeurl Server, Crystal Datacenter, North America, Astral Prime FC)

Of course, let us not forget that you do get something out of it. For each dollar that you donate to my Pat A Ron, you get a vote in my monthly update poll stating what you want to see updated next month. And if what you vote for doesn't win immediately, no worries! Non-winning votes roll over to the next poll, so a fic that only gets a vote a month will eventually win (though it might take a bit, to be brutally honest).

That said, if a fic hasn't won in a long time, I will take it off the poll and update it anyway, like I am in the process of doing for On Swirling Ashes, which I swear I actually am working on, really.

So yes, donate to my Pat A Ron, you get a say in what I update. Everybody wins! So that's Pat A Ron dotcom /athanmortis. The current poll ends on December 5th.

However, as something new, I have set up a Ko-Fi for those of you who don't want to use Pat A Ron to support me. The only caveat is that it won't count towards any voting, so I honestly don't see it getting much use. That said, it's there for those of you that prefer it. Seeing as I only created it a few weeks ago, please give me any feedback on it so I can make improvements. That's ko-fi dotcom /athanmortis78653 .

Thank you as always for reading, and sticking with me despite my dry spells and delays. I really do appreciate it. I hope everyone has a Happy New Year. Till next time!