NA; Heeeeyyyyyyy, tell me how you guys are, I want to know… anywho, thank you soooooo much to those who reviewed! And thank you for following or even adding my fanfiction to your favorites, that really means a lot to me. My truly grand, sparkling queen beta reader is !Dragonheart971! All you recognize belongs to J.K Rowling or the Warner Bros.


"You must understand the importance of leaving behind a trail. You must understand the importance of knowing where you have been. You must retrace you mistake, your horrors, your illnesses. And from them you must heal slowly. Revisit them like a slug revisits its saliva trails, and heal slowly like and slug travels from one area of its life to the next." -Me

Chapter 4' slug trails.


(?)

'Dear' they paused momentarily. If their letter was intersected it would ruin their whole plan and they would be thrown in to Azkaban, meaning no names could be said, and limited information passed through the owl network.

They started again with a sigh,

'Dear loved one,' they grimaced at that one, but it would have to do.

Things have reached an unlikely, and unfortunate complication. Aria is a strong mechanism, and embarrassingly I do not have the power to initiate it at full strength, though that is not to say it was not efficient, Aria dose indeed work and it seems to cause immense discomfort. I believe I can accomplish our goal by the end of the year; the curse should collapse our victim's lungs but that time or result in respiratory failure. Though something odd happened, our victim heaved blood and started to bleed else where, I was not aware Aria had that side affect. I was only informed Aria would suffocate our victim.

Regards,

Your friend.

They sighed once again, prying they didn't get cursed for their failure


(Harry Potter)

Harry opened his eyes, see the blurry image of the wretched person who continued to shake him relentlessly. Harry batted the hands away, rolling to snuggle deeper into his warm sheets.

Last night Harry had laid helplessly on the cold stone of Hogwarts, waiting for sweet oxygen to warm his muscles. His lungs had felt like deflated balloons; deflated balloons with hole in them, thus making filling them up an almost impossible fleet. But slowly his body began to find its strength in the oxygen Harry managed gasped in, and later then Harry would have liked, he had got up and spelled away the mess his blood had made and dragged his heavy legs up tortuous steps that, despite the time, never slept.

It was only his generous luck that keep prefects and teachers from finding him, or worse; Mrs. Norris.

It was only the heavy tiredness that came with the side-affects of almost suffocating that Harry had yet to freak out; a fuzzy mind- and a pounding head ache. When he had gotten back to the Gryffindor common room it had been no surprise that the boys were fast asleep, and for that Harry was grateful. The blood staining his school shirt was not something Harry wanted to explain to Ron. So Harry had banished yet another shirt off his, making a mental note to buy a new one. It was when he came to the question of what to do to his reopened scar he was lost. So Harry did a dejectedly stupid thing; he left it alone. To his defense he would have treated it if there had been a medical kit in their dorms washrooms, but as it was, there wasn't.

So promptly ignoring the fact that there was someone in the school who wanted him dead, again, he dressed in a shirt, and fell dead in his bed, ignoring he way the fabric of his shirt rubbed irritably on his raw skin.

"Harry! Get up mate! All the foods going to be gone by the time we get there!"

"Nooo." Harry grumbled, it was to early for the living…

"You have, like, ten minuet mate! Get up!" Ron nagged persistently.

Harry shot up, suddenly vary awake, "Bloody hell, Ron! Why didn't you wake me up?"

Harry jumped out of bed, practically tripping into his pants as he tried to grab his tooth brush.

Harry ignored Ron completely, missing his friends incredulous look and shocked stuttering.

Harry was done for, it was today that Harry needed to meet with Madam Pomfrey and Headmistress McGonagall, the one day he cared about his aesthetics and he had ten minuets to get ready!

"I swear Harry, I tried to wake you up, but you, you, you sleep like a rock!"

Dear merlin be with him, if the hooligan whom had tried to murder him wreaked his one shot at getting into this program with Madam Pomfrey, he was going to murder them.

"Your dead to the world mate, bloody lucky I didn't leave you like the rest of those gits."

He would go start with those Deatheater's who came up with the whole stupid game, he would tear them limb from limb. Their stupid game was like Harry Hunting, but extreme.

"And usually you're the one who wakes me up. And it not like you really every cared about being late for potions before, why dose it matters now."

Harry stilled, suddenly hearing Ron's ranting for the first time. Toothbrush still in his mouth, Harry slowly turned around, eyes widened with doomed kismet.

"What?" he whispered, terrified. Potions. He had bloody potions first. Snape was going to fail him if he was a second late.

When Snape had been attacked by Nagini in the final battle Harry, Ron and Hermione had rushed to help him, at the same time Voldemort had spoken to each person through their minds, giving all of them an hour. So taking such opportunity they took him to Madam Pomfrey, who was lucky enough to save him from the deadly venom.

After that day a mutual agreement of civilized peace fell over them. But that didn't mean Snape wasn't the same snarky, sarcastic bastard as before.

Ron shifted nervously, when had Harry every cared about potions? "Um, potions. First block. In Ten minutes."

Harry was suddenly very glad Hermione had forced him to learn freshening charms, cause at the moment he spat out his tooth paste and quickly finish throwing on the rest of his school cloths.

Running to the potions classroom proceeded with Harry muttering every morning charm he new, trying to look at least presentable.

And he missed meal time.

Again.


"As a result of your potions previously, seating and partners will remain the same." Came Severus Snape's drawl, "this term will consist of one assignment."

Professor Snape turned to the black board behind him, writing in sharp, compacted calligraphy, their assignment.

Turning to the silent class he bathed them in his obsidian gaze, "You will create a potion that dose not harm, nor kill. And it must have a usefulness, and work for what ever you choose to make it for."

The class with dead silent, not a muscle twitching.

"What are you waiting for! Get to work! I expect your ideas and possible formula by the end of this class." Professors Snape's voice snapped startling the students into action.

(Draco Malfoy)

Draco's gaze wandered over Harrys stance. Tiered, stiff, miserable looking… almost appearing to be in pain.

Draco's eyes wandered back up to Harrys face, only to meet Harrys eyes awkwardly. He looked away, blood rushing to his face.

"Err… so you have any ideas? I mean we could create a medical potion that calms the person into an almost sleep like state, or we could make something that's like the opposite of love potion! Like a hate potion or something, or-" Draco watched Harry rambled on, but efficiently cut him off, stopping him before he made a fool of himself and bit his own tongue.

"Well it seems you have many ideas your self, Potter. But no we couldn't create a hate potion because it could be relatively harmful, and your first idea is much to like an already existing calming draft." Draco countered, feeling slightly smug of his conclusions.

"Well what do you propose then, Malfoy?" Draco could hear the slight annoyance in Harrys voice.

"How about an extracting potion? For example; you already know that a Bezoar is a great supplement for poison, it just soaks up all the poison. Now what if we made something that had the same concept but instead soaked up lingering curses, hexes, and dark magic from wounds, in a result the wounds would be able to heal properly, not leaving any marks and taking away potential health problems in the future."

(Harry potter)

Excitement glowed in Draco's eyes, giving him the slight look of a toddler receiving a lollipop, but it took Harrys breath way.

"Brilliant…" Harry said breathlessly, why was he acting like this? He was Gryffindor, not a bloody Hufflepuff, "lets do that."

"Right, okay. Now Bezoar is still useful in regards to poison because of its absorbing technique, but we need something that will eat up dark magic and hexes and curses but at the same time-"

"-not suck up the drinker's magic." Harry finished.

Draco glanced at Harry oddly, as though he was discovering he wasn't such an idiot as he always thought, "That's correct, it would he absolutely catastrophic if the users magical core was absorbed at the same time, so something weak perhaps."

"Or a balm, because then the antidote would pull the magic out, but it wouldn't be strong enough to really affect the users magical core," Harry offered. "cause, you know, our magical cores are here," Harry pointed to his head, "and if the antidote only needs to absorb magic on the surface then it wouldn't affect the magical core."

(Draco Malfoy)

Draco never would have imagined Harry being this good at potions, or perhaps not good at potions. But at least he had astonishing, logical solutions and ideas.

"That could work, though it wouldn't necessary be a potion then, we could ask but…"

"Wait! There was this potion thingy that madam Pomfrey used on me a few years ago. It was a liquid, but she still applied it to my skin."

Draco thought for a moment, it bothered him that Harry had been to the hospital wing enough times to know a rare occasion of a potion like such, but he had a point. Now that Draco thought about it he could think of one or two potions that weren't made for the human systems because it was too strong, so it was applied to the skin or inflicted area of pain.

"Your right, in the case of Dragon Pocks a potion is dabbed onto the skin, or in some cases added to bath water." Draco concluded, thinking out loud.

"Sounds like you speak from experience." Draco turned his attention to Harry.

Draco sneered slightly, "Shut up and make your self useful." Harry put his hands up in defense, "Find the page with herbs."

Harry did as he was instructed, flipping to the index and from there to the informed page. Draco stop Harry once the flip to a page dedicated to the usefulness of mint.

"Why mint?" Draco sighed at Harrys question.

"Mint isn't just a freshener, it is also an antibiotic, it directs its attention to what ever is preventing the wound from healing, thus the mint might help fight off the harmful magic. From what I know muggles use it when they have a cold or something?" Draco explained.

"Yeah they put it in tea. So… dose that mean Bezoar juices will be needed, or not? Because it absorbs damaging substances?" Harry looked, and was, in Draco's opinion genuinely interested.

"I wanted to avoided it if possible, we could try to substitute it with, say… slug mucus." Draco said distastefully.

Harry looked absolutely disgusted. "Slug mucus?! Like the sparkly, gooey stuff they leave behind in trails. You got to be bloody joking! That repulsive."

Draco cringed at the thought of slugs in general, "I know and while it is truly distasted," Harry snorted, "it is vary close to Bezoar. Slug mucus is hygroscopic. Which if you don't know, means it attracts and absorbs, then holds things surrounding its environment. Muggles thinks this only refers to water molecules, but it doesn't, truthfully it attracts, absorbs and hold many thing, magic included. While it is disgusting it would be a safer option." Draco reasoned, even though the idea nauseated him.

"I guess I'll added it to the list." Harry said hesitantly.

"Right, you do that, added mint herbs too, we'll elaborate on them later. I suppose we should add Bezoar too, you know just encase." Harry nodded. "Did you write down what were making?"

"Mhmm" Harry hummed.

"And its descriptive?" Draco was shot an annoyed glance, but received a nod.

"Brilliant." Draco said absent mindedly as he shuffled through the herbs, writing them down on a note pad for Harry to put them on the list.

"Here put this on the list." Draco ripped the note pad from it group and stuck it beside the list.

"Tea Tree oil? Are we going to try using that instead of mint herbs? For the healing and scaring aspect?"

Draco shrugged, "Its worth the try, simplicity is sometimes better. Oh, and By the way, Potter, we have classes with Madam Pomfrey after this."

"Figured, Ron has divination after this, which is the block that Madam Pomfrey agreed to teach me in. Hey, what class did you drop?" Harry looked to Draco.

"Sadly Ancient Ruins, but I didn't need it for my degree." While Draco was disappointed he would be discontinuing one of his favorite classes, it truly wasn't necessary, and should he miss it enough he could continue his studies on his own time.

"I have to learn Ancient Ruins, but I've never taken the class, so Professor McGonagall is going to set me up with a fast track program."

Draco laughed at that, Harry was going to learn five years of complicate ruins, complex systems and brain-breaking chants in the cores of one year. Sorry, but that was laughable. "Really? Well I'll call you king when that happens, Potter." Draco snickered again, pointing to another herb, calendula which was used on sick to help with infection and heal wounds. Harry wrote it down grudgingly and glared at Malfoy.

"Well if your so brilliant at Ancient Ruins why don't you prove it, why don't you help me?" It was obvious to Draco that this was wounding Harrys pride.

So Draco took hold of the opportunity to tease Harry and gripped it tight. He raised a blond arched eyebrow, sticking his chin up a bit preposterously. "Are you Harry Potter, oh great one, asking me to tutor you?"

Harry rolled his eyes, but Draco could see the smile tugging on his lips. "yes I am, you prat, and mock my words you will be calling me king." Harry shot back starting to pack up his supplies after checking his watch.

Draco laughed as his godfather instructed the student to hand in their list, "alright Potter, you've got your self a deal, but if I'm right and you don't pass Ancient Ruins then your calling me king."

This time Harry did smile, and it was utterly beautiful, "Sure thing, Malfoy." Harry playfully nocked his shoulder into Draco's, walking past him to the door

Draco gazed at him in masked awe as Harry walked away.


(Harry potter)

Harry made bee line for the boy's loo, pushing the door open with his shoulder as his hand pressed against his scar.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Why did he think it would be a good idea to knock into Malfoys shoulder when his scar was as tender as it was?

Harry pushed open a stall and slipped in, leaning on the door as he unbuttoned is shirt.

And what a perfect moment for luck to swing around and kick him in the ass.

Little beads of crimson had begun to surface the crease of his scar, while the skin around it was an angry red. Harry pressed a scrunched up ruffle of toilet paper to the old wound, wincing at the pressure he applied to stop the bleeding faster, after all he had 10 minutes till his next class.

The reality that he had almost suffocated to death last night hit him like a brick to the face. They were still out there, in the halls, in the class rooms, in the washrooms. And Harry had no idea who it was. They were a faceless threat. He didn't even know what curse or spell they used. Blimey, he didn't even know if it was a curse or spell.

Were they even a student? Were they apart of the Deatheater's new organization? Or were they just out for revenge, or perhaps answers? Where they just toying with him. If they wanted answers why didn't they kidnap him? If they wanted him dead, why hadn't they just killed him? An 'Avada Kedavra' and he was dead.

But wait. Who said it was even a person? Who said there was someone out for his blood? He hadn't seen anyone, and while Harry had felt creeped out, there was a possibility he could have just been paranoid.

Perhaps Harry was just paranoid.

Maybe Harry just had a health problem? But its never that easy. Is it? Harry thought bitterly.

But there was no use freaking himself out about something that he didn't have prof of.

Now that Harry thought about it this had happened before! A few weeks ago, how could he forget? If he recalled correctly he had had troubles breathing, though not as bad, and really the only reason his breathing was constricted was because of the blooded blocking his airway but even so it was too similar not to be related, and his scar had ached terribly, even bleeding as it had last night. But at the time there hadn't been any Deatheater's plotting against him, not that the public had know of anyhow. But even if the Deatheater's had been trying to get their grubby little hands on him, they wouldn't have been able to. Harry had been in Grimmauld Place at the time, which was under a Fidelius charm Harry had made himself, he as the secret keeper and no one but himself, Remus, Ron and Hermione new of it location.

So perhaps this is all silly suspicion Harry thought as he pulled away the bloodied paper, sighing in relief as no more blood bubbled up, perhaps I'm just sick, or maybe there's something odd with my scar. In that case I'll go to madam Pomfrey if it gets any worse.

And with that thought Harry buttoned up his shirt and flushed way they used toilet paper, walking out the bathroom door with a healthy mix of caution but also relief.


(Draco Malfoy)

"You've made it," the bell chimed, "though only by the nick of time."

Draco, who was sitting on one of the hospital beds waiting for Madam Pomfrey, watched Harry walk in to the infirmary, where Madam Pomfrey thought was fit to teach her students, and considering it was only Harry and himself it would probably do just fine.

"Where were you? Off checking up with the rest of the golden trio?" Draco's voiced held the sneer that married his face. He tried to hide it, but year of uncaring attitude and forced malice directed towards Harry had become a coping mechanism he had used to hide his true feelings, and while he wanted to throw such habits way, there was bond to be the occasional slip. And the jealousy that panged in his chest at the thought of all the attention Harry gave his friends, the attention Draco craved so much, Draco's attitude and true feelings weren't going to stay hidden this time.

So as it was, he sneered at the thought of the bushy-haired Brainiac and the freckled carrot top.

And of course that would offend Harry.

But surprisingly Harry just cursed lightly under his breath…

So apparently he hadn't see his friends. Huh. Then what had he been doing?

"No, actually, I forgot. Had something else I had to take care of." Harry sighed off handily.

Draco scrutinised Harry, he looked… paler. Well paler then usual, Harry always had had a porcelain glow to him, but this didn't look as healthy. Mabey Harry had a rough night, or maybe he was sick.

Perhaps Draco was just paranoid.

Draco's face softened. There was no reason Draco should be jealous, is wasn't as though Harry was going to jump Weasley or snog Granger. They were just friends, and Harry and Draco were just…

Nothing.

Draco looked away from Harry as he took a seat on the bed next to him.

The silence that coated them was heavy and awkward, and Draco had the terrible feeling that everything, all the progress that had been made on Harrys and his selves relationship this morning, had been destroyed. The tension felt disgustingly heavy to Draco, and not for the first time Draco wished he could go back eight years to the day in Diagon Alley, Madam Malkin's, and give Harry his condolence for his lost parents, and for his suffering, to introduce himself not as a Malfoy but as an individual, as Draco, as someone who didn't think his being was above all.

But what could he do? When it came down to it Draco had blown his chance, he could spend all year working to repair and patch up the deep wound he'd inflicted on potter, but even though it would never be the same. But the same as what, exactly? Of a friendship he hadn't ever had? One he'd never experienced? Perhaps they wouldn't be able to become as close as he'd originally hoped, but that did not mean that they way this unfolded in the end, how the stars shifted at the end of the year, wasn't meant to be.

Draco hadn't blown his chance, not yet. Draco was finally getting his chance; this was his chance. Thus being so he wouldn't sit around moping over 'could have's', and 'would have's', and 'should have's.'

No Draco was going to make an effort! This was the beginning!

"What were you doing then?" Draco asked, examining his cuticles for lack of entertainment. Not that Draco wasn't curious to what Harry was getting up to, after all that's what his early Hogwarts years practically thrived on, pestering Potter, bugging Potter, getting Potter in trouble, sabotaging Potters plans, obsessing over Potter. Potter, Potter, Potter. Harry, Harry, Harry.

"None of your business." Harry responded casually, rather then rudely. Draco had to reason with himself that it truly wasn't any of his business, and that if Harry didn't want to tell him then it wasn't his business. Luckily his was spared having to respond when Madam Pomfrey bristled in, running through the doors with her working gown clenched in both hands to prevent her from tripping.

"So terribly sorry, boys," she apologized in her thick accent, "one of the younger ladies got a pleasant surprise this afternoon, had a little panic though…" she frowned, trailing off.

Draco and Harry glance awkwardly at each other, truly not wanting to her of another students… problem.

"Anyhow, get your book out, hurry now, we've only got a quart of an hour in these classes, and you two boys have got more knowledge to learn in these class then we have time for."

both boys pull out each individuals' books, though they were more like tomes, weighting heavily in their hands.

"Good, good, now read the first three chapters, I want you to bring a six-inch essay next class summarizing your books' chapters and pointing out the most important part of them. Now I expect to see lots of note taking and high lighting in your text books, I want you to deface them with questions you have, side notes, underlining, and scribbling out things that contradict other books if you find them incorrect. You must remember that whomever may have written theses book are experts but, and especially in your case Mr. Potter, their technique and opinions may not work for you, and that is okay. But if you do cross out information you that tastes sour to you, I fully expect you to make a note on the side saying why. And don't think you can worm your way out of this boys, at the end of each semester I'll be collecting your book, and it will go to wards you marks," she looked at them sternly, but like always, kindly, "understood?"

"Yes ma'am" came identical reply's.

"Good, now chop, chop! Save any question for next class, on Thursday." With that she turned on her high-top, black leather, pointed heels, heading into her office.

Draco watched Harry pull out a quill and two odd felt tipped quill.

Harry meet Draco's gaze, cocking his head to the side a little, he waved the vibrant pink highlighter in front of Draco's face.

"I'm assuming you don't have one of these, its more of a muggle thing, I've heard. But anyways, you highlight important information with its bright colours." Harry tossed the bright neon pink highlighter to Draco, smirking slightly at the flamboyant colour.

Draco narrowed his eye at Harry watching him snicker slightly at the bright pink quill, or highlighter, in his hand, "I wouldn't be laughing Potter, don't forget its your bright pink quill that I'm using."

Harrys smirk fell off his face.


(Hermione Granger)

"… but that's not even the coolest part!" Harry exclaimed pointing to a part in the text book spread out before Hermione.

The great hall was filled with buzzing students, each chatting away and stuffing there faces full of lunch. Hermione and Harry though were not talking about the latest drama or what had happened over the holidays, instead Harry was blabbing away about his first class with madam Pomfrey, or rather what he'd read in said time.

"Wait, wait, wait! So your telling me that your taking ancient ruins for this class because…?" Hermione asked, thinking she'd heard wrong.

"Well I wouldn't have to technically uses this technique but its an option… but anywho, I can carve these ruins," Harry pointed to a long string of sigils that crawled along the boarder of the page flashing invisible then bright read so the readers could see the usually sightless art. "and they allow me to connect to the persons' emotions, giving me a better understanding of how the feel, this way I can help them better." Harrys excitement was glowing through his eyes, "but this is just one of the many enchantment I can use! This book will just give me a brief glance of all the areas of magical counselling, enough to pass my exam and get my degree, but there's so much more, 'Mione! So, so much more! And its so exiting."

Hermione smiled despite the worry she felt. Though that ruin sounded great, and sounded like a useful way to understand a persons' emotions, such a spell would have a great strain on Harry. Not in a magical strain, no Harry could no doubt pull it off easily, it was the emotional strain he would feel. It was bad enough that he would have to listen to his client's pain, but to feel it… that was like having the depression or anxiety or whatever himself. That seemed like a lot to take on.

"Harry …" Hermione started only to be cut short when professor McGonagall came up behind her friend.

"Mr. Potter," Minerva McGonagall caught Harrys attention, Harry greeted her back just as formally, "as you know Quidditch season is around the corner and new team captains are being chosen…" she drifted off raising her eyebrows at Harry questioningly.

Hermione saw the realization on Harrys face, she new Harry understood what she was implying, McGonagall wanted Harry to be the Gryffindor team captain, but Hermione saw no excitement on Harrys face.

"Oh, um, thank you for the offer professor, but I think Ron would be a better choose," Ron, who had only started listening at the mention of Quidditch, choked on what ever he was stuffing his face with. Professor McGonagall looked equally shocked.

"But Mr. Potter this is you last year, surely you'd like to lead your team, after all you quite enjoyed it in your sixth year!" McGonagall insisted.

Harry just shook his head with a smile, "Once again thank you for the offer professor, but I'm very busy as you know, and I'm afraid I wont have enough time to organize the team, Ron on the other hand would do great, and I'd love to try out as seeker again."

McGonagall smiled too, "Very well, then. Mr. Weasley?" she inquired, gazing at the freckled face mess, eyes piercing.

"Uh, um, yeah, sure. I mean I would be honored." Ron stumbled his excitement barley consoled, "Professor." He added much too late.

"Wonderful. I expect a practice schedule for the Gryffindor team by Friday. Good day to you three, and Mr. Potter my office after your last class for your ancient ruins program." With a nod she turned and left.

"blimey, mate! Thanks a ton. I owe you after this one!" Ron laughed and ruffled Harrys hair, who scowled and patted his messy mop, trying futilely to flatten it.

Hermione smiled at the antics, shook he head and whispered, "boys!"


(Harry Potter)

The walls of Hogwarts were bathed in moon light, each crack of the stone wall casting a shadow. The occasional mouse scurried way, beware of a predator that stalked the halls.

Most students didn't dare walk the halls of Hogwarts at night, scared to hear the echoing screams of the past war, afraid to catch glimpses of the casualties lost in the war.

Of course no such nonsense would be seen in the ancient structure of Hogwarts, but students liked to talk, and so it became Hogwarts was haunted at night, well more haunted then Nearly Headless Nick.

But still a student paced the halls restlessly, invisible to all but the inner-eye. This student didn't believe in the ridiculous lies told by younger grades. No, Harry didn't need to be told about past screams echoing in Hogwarts at night, Harry new all about lingering tragedy's for they resided in his head.

Harry new what it was like to hear echoing screams at night because every time Harry closed his eye they greeted him good night.

It was getting better; his mind healing from the trauma the war had caused him.

Screams of others turned into Harrys scream when he woke up, and then the voices turned to distant whispers and Harrys calls turned to muttering, and soon his dreams where haunted by nothing but quick glimpses of horror.

Though that wasn't to say some nights Harrys past didn't haunt him, for it still did, and on nights like those- like these- Harry would distract himself.

Like taking a walk.

Harry trailed his invisible hand along the wall, feeling the rough stone grate against his finger tips, shredding the first surface of delicate skin.

Earlier that day Harry had meet with professor McGonagall in the headmasters' office, or should he say Headmistresses office? Yes, McGonagall being the former deputy headmistress had taken up both positions head of house and headmistress, at least until she could find some one fit to take up her roll as Gryffindor's head of house.

Harry had picked up his textbook and assignment book, which would guide Harry through what he had to hand into the teachers by the end of the year. The course would be fairly easy, Harry would have to hand in all five assignments by term three, one assignment for each year.

Harry was excited, he really was. But he understood that learning ancient ruins would be a tedious process of memorizing. He would have to retrace his steps countless times to get a proper grasp on the subject, but Harry was up for it, he had to after all.

He'd have to be a slug this year; not in the sense of being slimly, slow and all in all gross. But in the sense that he'd keep himself mobile and paced.

But what Harry probably didn't anticipate was that he'd be walking right over the horrors of his past, retracing them once again.

At least, he didn't anticipate it the way he would retrace them this year.


AN; chappie four! How'd you guys like it?

Okay so I know this chapter is ridiculously late, BUT I went to Alberta for a week, THEN when I got home my sister gave birth to a beautiful, precious baby girl. So theirs my late slip.

(not so important stuff, just some fact about stuff in the fanfiction)

Okay so the gross part about slug mucus is half true, were the magical part was obviously, and sadly, made up, that part about slug mucus being hygroscopic wasn't made up. Slug mucus is hygroscopic, which is the ability of a substance (in this case the mucus) to attract and hold water molecules from the surrounding environment. So there's your gross fun fact for the week.

Also about slugs. Slug Wisdom, which is the wisdom the life of a slug can give us, includes; importance of keeping yourself mobile, understanding the value of leaving a trail, ability to use slow movement to one advantage, etc. But slugs and snails are also seen in old lore and mythology, in carvings of stone, paintings on walls and a lot in old cults. Reason being is the snails shell is spiraled, and in many cultures the spiral means life and death, thus slugs and snails could be considered very, very important.

Everything else about the herbs are genuinely true, while I might not tell you every thing about them, if it doesn't sound made up then its probably not. Calendula for example is really an herb that helps with infections and wounds, and it can be applied on the skin.

(important stuff)

If you guys have any questions about the fanfiction, or you confused, maybe there's something not right about the story so far, please tell me, I'll try to clear it up.

THANKS FOR ALL THE SUPPORT :D

xxx