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Harry felt like his very soul was a shroud, oppressive and heavy as it dwelled inside him as he solemnly stared out the window of his Transfiguration class and at the falling leaves. A month or so had passed since he and Harie fought and it didn't seem like the rift created between them would close anytime soon. The green eyed teen still watched out for her, though he tried to not be obvious about it after she had yelled at him when he stopped a stray hex from hitting her.

During the last few weeks, Harry had come to know more about this new dimension. His classes were similar as the ones he had had before, only with different teachers, and he had not have had to use the other Harry's wand, which was good because the first time he tried it sucked up too much of his magic and left him with a half frozen hand.

He had potions with Garvin Pennant, a likeable man who seemed to be a tad too cheery. Herbology with Mopsus. He found that besides her prejudice she was also a sadist, finding glee in tasking each her students with the most volatile and dangerous of plants to take care of. He had Charms with Trahuun Core, who seemed to always wear some sort of leather clad outfit but, despite his cool appearance, was an irrefutably boring teacher.

History of Magic was, surprisingly, not taught by a ghost but by Devon Darnsley. The guy was a complete arse to any student who was not a pureblood and upheld prueblood standards as the base of his grading and discipline. Something that Harie, Harry discovered, liked about him and thus caused a small crush on the teacher. Harry felt sick when he saw her flirting with the git.

Harry enjoyed Defense Against the Dark Arts, taught by Galatea Merrythought, but found it a but boring since he already new most of the material. Horace Slughorn was the head of Slytherin and also the professor for Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. The man also established the Slug club, which only accepted the best and brightest of Hogwarts, that Harie attended every Tuesday.

He did like the electives that the other Harry had chosen. Care of Magical Creatures, the class was so small that all years were joined together, was fun and taught by Billus Grensleeves, a tall man with a missing left eye and a habit for pulling out daggers to throw at misbehaving students whether in his class or not. The other elective that old Harry chose was Ancient Studies, a class that Harry had never heard of before, that was quite informative. It taught not only the theory of the origins of Magic but also foreign spells and ancient semi-forgotten magic.

His friendship with Rubeus was going well despite the animosity that most of the school had against the half giant. They weren't hiding the way that he was treated differently. Harry had to take up the mantle of quietly pranking and warning people in order for Rubeus to have a semi-peaceful life. All in all, Harry had been busy and it was beginning to give him a headache.

"Mr. Faerwindle," tutted Professor Ambiva as she scowled at her daydreaming student. "list the steps of Transfiguration."

Harry smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, and shrugged. He widen his eyes and forced a blush on his cheeks, given the appearance of someone younger as he flicked his gaze up to Ambiva then to his sister, who sat near the front of the classroom. He tried to make his face puppyish, covering his anger with a whimper when she ignored him. His acting had become better, thanks to the midnight training that watered down his stress, so his role of meek and simple Hufflepuff was more spot on than before. Another blessing was that Riddle hadn't confronted him. Not yet, Harry was sure that the snake was planning something as revenge. He was too proud to let Harry off after having been hit.

"Do pay attention." Professor Ambiva sighed, smiling softly. She had a bit of a bleeding heart for the Hufflepuff. "If you need..."

She was cut off by the sounds of three rapid knocks on the classroom door and the squeaking of it opening. Harry raised an eyebrow at the student standing in the doorway. He took in the wild dirty blond hair and the sparkling white grin that threatened to split his face apart. Those teeth looked sharper than most.

"Yes?" Professor Ambiva turned towards the new arrival, signaling for the rest of the class to settle down their whispering. "Can I help you?"

"The Headmaster sent for Faerwindle." the boy, nearly a man, said.

"Which one?"

"The male." responded the teen. A prefect, Harry noted.

Harry slowly gather up his materials, pretending to flinch when the messenger glared at him, and nodded his good bye to the Professor. Walking beside the other boy was a bit nerve wracking. He didn't recognized him but the prefect had a dangerous feel about him. 'You're being paranoid.' Harry scolded himself.

Floating books, knickknacks, and balls of lights wandered aimlessly around a withered man as he sat behind his desk. Armando Dippet had always referred to himself as being a tolerant and benevolent Headmaster. He accepted each and everyone of his students, those that were already attending and those that will attend. Which is why he was now facing a small group of new students. Refugees of the Muggle war and outcasts of the Grindelwald command of the Wizarding world.

Grindelwald was quickly becoming a nightmare for those with other blood than pure. He could see the evidence of it in the way that many wizarding schools were assimilating to a purist method of teaching and accepting students. Many muggleborns, halfbloods, and those with creature ancestry were expelled or hunted down and killed by the very people who they thought accepted them. Hogwarts was becoming one of the few sanctuaries for students to go to in order to finish their school if they could not afford a private education. It troubled the Headmaster greatly the outcome of Grindelwald's persuasive power and control of the Ministry.

His brown eyes glanced at the 3 teenagers in front of him. A tall, buff male leaned on the far left wall. His bright golden eyes flickering, as though searching for danger, and his body tense under the faded black robes he wore. Sitting in one of the armchairs in front of Dippet's desk was another boy. This one was slimmer, yet you could see the muscled groves under his tight shirt, and had a slight tremor in his hand as he lifted a teacup to drink the mint tea that the Headmaster had provided. Beside him was a young woman, her hair was a bright flowing blond and her eyes a starry dark blue. Her features and coloring very similar to the second boy. Twins, if Headmaster Dippet remembered correctly from the file that was sent over by Beauxbatons. Codependent as well because of the way that they both were unconsciously leaning in each other's direction and kept a looking at each other as is to make sure that they were still there.

"Please," started Dippet, getting the attention of the present company and hoping to alleviate some the swelling tension in the room. "rest assured that you are safe here at Hogwarts. We are very welcoming to any who need help."

"Hrmph" snorted the standing teen, a low growl vibrating from his throat. "Just not people like us."

"Mr..."

The Headmaster was interrupted by the groaning of his office entrance opening. Dippet quickly recognized Virgil Alighieri, a Ravenclaw prefect, and Harold Faerwindle, whom he had needed to speak with before he became distracted by the new arrivals.

"Headmaster, here is Faerwindel as you asked." Alighieri said, forcing a relaxed stance. He was not in Ravenclaw for nothing. One of the guests in the room was obviously a werewolf, the yellow eyes and feral looks said everything needed. It would be disastrous for the dark creature to become agitated.

"Ah, yes. Thank you, you may return to class Mr. Aligheri."

Harry watched as the prefect did a smooth turn and left, his robes bellowing in a way that was just shy of being Snapeish. The bespectacled teen had been on pins and needles the whole way to the office. A dozen scenarios of why the Headmaster could have called him played through his head, each on more troublesome than the last. Paranoia festered by the war against Voldemort had bubbled to surface. It wouldn't be the first time that someone attacked or tried to manipulate him. Illusion blue eyes passed over the Headmaster's shoulder to the three other people in the room. Were they involved in what the old man wanted? Or were they here for another reason. 'Wait, where's Dumbledore?' thought Harry, suddenly realizing that he hadn't seen the twinkle eyed wizard anywhere in the last few weeks. 'Is he not a professor? Maybe, he's off fighting Grindelwald. Wasn't he the one who defeated him in the first place?'

"Mr. Faerwindel!" repeated Dippet for the third time, eyebrow raising as the Hufflepuff froze and twitched.

"Yes, Headmaster?" Harry kept his voice soft and shy but his inner emotions were vastly different.

"Your father has requested for you to be examined thoroughly by Monsieur Aglaia. He is worried that the potions accident near the end of last year is affecting your body. You are to report to him tomorrow."

"Yes, Headmaster."

"Good, now if you would do me a favor."

"Of course, sir."

"I would like to introduce Mister and Miss Gorlois and Ygraine Du Lac," Dippet nodded to the two blondes. "And Mister Fenrir Greyback. I need you to lead them to the Hall and wait for they're receptive house heads to come and take them. Usually I would allow them to wait here, but there is an important visitor coming that I must speak to privately."

Harry felt a sea of dread when he heard the last name. His mind flashing to the last time he came face to face with the infamous werewolf. Scenes filled with screams and blood rolled across his sight, blocking out anything else. To him it seemed like seconds, to the others in the room he was having a panic attack.

Harry breathes came in quick huffs, the lack of proper oxygen making him dizzy. Igraine screeched when he fell to his knees, her brother hurrying over to Harry while yelling for someone to call the school nurse.

Fin

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