Hi, remember me? This has been sitting on a flash drive in my drawer for a long time. It's survived three moves, a fatal hard drive crash, and has been on four different computers. It sucks… it really sucks. Don't read it. In fact, you should probably forget this story ever existed, but there are some of you out there who will still read it. It amazes me that there are people who are still fans after all these years. Okay, for those of you who have reviewed and PM'd, here's a few observations…

I'm kinda surprised that people got so upset when Hagrid was able to read the cover of Harry's book when no one else could. That was by design. If I ever make it to that point in the story, it will be sufficiently explained. It wasn't an error, as a lot of you gleefully pointed out. Hint: What if Hagrid wasn't a half-giant, but a half-something-else? A giant and a human? Come on… Something-else and a human? Hmmm… Could his ineptitude be an act? Hmmm…

This was intended to be an AU story from the start… you do know what AU means, right? Alternate Universe? To all of you crybabies who berate me in PMs for torturing Harry, Jaana, Wynmae or any other fictional being in my stories, If you don't like it, don't read it. Don't feel that you need to message me to tell me that I'm a nazi or sadist or anything else. Just click the little 'X' and move on with your life.

I'm sorry if you have recurring nightmares over my themes… I'm sure they have medication for that.

Yes, Harry is now actively practicing magic. No, the British Ministry isn't coming down on them like a lorry load of manure. I was going to give details later, but since you're so impatient, the short explanation is… They live on the Isle of Wight. In this story, the island isn't controlled by the British like in the muggle world. In the magical world it's a possession of Norway and has been since the Viking days. It has no underage magic laws, but it does have a strict immigration policy, which exempts Jaana and her wards because of her Nordic background.

Yes, this will be H/Hr… eventually… Sheesh…

I could go on, but I'd fill too many pages and I've already wasted enough of my precious time explaining this much. I wonder if I threw out too many spoilers for future chapters? If there are any future chapters…. The next chapter that is in my brain would be dealing with what happens at the end of this chapter, Harry's plan to make money yielding an unintended meeting, and a time jump with preparations for attending Hogwarts… Enjoy!

Word count: 7000+

Chapter 20: The Nightwatch

From The Life of Harry James Potter Excerpt from Chapter 35: Helpful Stuff

Another of Hermione's more brilliant inventions came about during the War of the Sexes, and was a combination of muggle technology and magical spellcrafting. Upon hearing of the major advances in muggle genetic engineering, Hermione enrolled herself in advanced medicine at Berlin Polytechnic University and biochemical engineering at MIT. Well, not really enrolled... she basically sat in whatever classes she desired and magically altered the student rolls. She never got a true degree that way... but she was never after the piece of paper, it was always the knowledge itself that she prized.

It was on one of her trips to the States when she made a breakthrough in her research and developed what she called the 'genetic reversion process.' As with all great discoveries, the premise is relatively simple, once all of the developmental processes are understood.

The initial idea she had was to develop a way to disguise one's gender to infiltrate the Dark Lady's camp. Polyjuice, a relatively well known potion, was difficult to produce, expensive, and only lasted for an hour. At one point, the use of Polyjuice was so rampant that there was actually a danger that the Boomslang would become extinct due to the massive demand for its skin. On top of all that, it was found that prolonged consumption of Polyjuice that was keyed to the opposite gender would cause reproductive system problems, sometimes making the user sterile.

Hermione was never really on either side of the War of the Sexes strictly for gender's sake... she was always on my side and against Voldemort. We needed a way to infiltrate the Dark Lady's ranks with wizards we knew would see the battle through to the end without compromising their own loyalties, so the genetic gender alternator was created. A simple formula to genetically switch the user's sex. A woman that became a man was in essence a man... actually having the inherent X chromosome switch to a Y... she could sexually perform, and even impregnate another woman. A man switched to a woman would have the double X chromosomes, and naturally, all the female working parts and could himself become pregnant by another man.

Oddly enough, if a man were to become pregnant while switched to a woman, or if a woman was pregnant while attempting to use the gender alternator, a natural genetic fail-safe would prevent the formula from working. We guessed that the inherent magic would prevent ending a life. The woman could not become a man, and the man in a woman's form could not revert back. Hermione could never figure out why that occurred, but she really didn't try that hard to overcome it, either. She always held life as precious.

Naturally, Hermione wasn't satisfied with just settling with the alternator. She took her research to the next logical step and began development of the genetic reversion process. The basic theory to this next breakthrough is that in every persons' body, hidden in certain core cells, are the genetic maps of multiple generations of that person's ancestors. After all, every person is the product of each of their ancestors, and everyone carries some form of the genetic code of each of those ancestors.

The idea is that you can magically select a specific embedded code, manipulate that code to produce a developmental range or specific combination of codes, and quickly replicate that code in the host body. In other words, the process allows you to either randomly or selectively choose a genetic makeup, derived from your own ancestral line, and almost immediately apply it to your core. You can choose an age range, a gender, a specific familial line. You can appear as your own parent, grandparent, great-grandparent... great-great-great-great-great-great... well... you know... and so on.

One can even combine previously unmatched codes to produce an entirely unprecedented result, such as a genetic combination of your paternal grandfather and your maternal great-great-great grandmother... or your paternal grandfather's code to your maternal grandfather's... and any set of codes can be paired with any other set... multiple times, so that any combination is possible, in essence randomizing a person's genetic makeup.

One can even manipulate the appearance of the end result by altering the body mass, appearing heavier or lighter… to an extent… or even changing the style and length of hair that you end up with after the change… just concentrate on long, straight hair or short, curly hair, or no hair at all. Obviously, the color can't be altered, as the genetics dictates the result, and there are limits to the deviation of body mass from the original genetic predisposition.

The process also 'saves' the original genetic makeup in a series of specific cells throughout the body and uses this saved code to revert the body to its original form whenever desired, kind of like a reset button.

The application of this marvelous invention should be apparent. It genetically alters your appearance, it is virtually undetectable by any means, and it is permanent until purposely dispelled. The only reason Polyjuice was still in use after this development was to actually impersonate someone else... something the genetic reversion process could not do. Standard security precautions still had to be taken to weed out imposters...

This will be one of your greatest weapons in your arsenal, and should be safeguarded accordingly, but there are a certain few trusted people that I suggest you share this process to secure their co-operation. Firstly, there's someone you have to get to before the Death Eaters do…

Friday, July 9th, 1989 7:27 PM

The reddening sun was hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across Harry's bedroom. The early evening sunlight crept over Harry's face, rousing him from his slumber. Being outside in the sun and water all day had tired him out, making it difficult for him to fully awaken from his nap.

He grumpily rolled away from the light and, after placing his glasses on his nose, grumbled unintelligibly at the clock on his nightstand. Next to the clock stood the now familiar burn potion bottle. He gingerly touched his face and chest, feeling only a very minor tightness to his skin. He silently thanked the inventor of that handy little potion, and he would make it a point to learn how to make it for himself.

As Harry pulled his shirt over his head, he realized that Jaana hadn't called him for dinner. He finished dressing and, after a very short search, found her in the library, sitting at a table and hidden behind a pile of books. He noticed that she had been spending a lot of her time in there recently, only leaving the room to sleep, make the meals, and to give him his daily lessons.

Jaana looked up as she heard him enter the room and hastily brushed aside the few parchment rolls she had been working on.

"What's up?" she greeted him as he approached.

"It's getting late," said Harry as he craned his neck to see what she was working on, "Do you want me to make dinner for us tonight?"

Jaana glanced up at the clock that sat on the fireplace mantle and let out a pained groan. She then noticed Harry straining to see what she was working on. Jaana just smiled as she casually slid the rolls together and gathered them up. With a wave of her wand, she sent the parchments flying out through the door and towards her room as she answered, "No, It's alright. I'll whip something up for us right now. Cor, where did the time go?"

"Okay," said Harry as he followed her out of the library and towards the stairway, "How much time do I have?"

"Give me about twenty minutes," said Jaana as she descended the stairs to the main level, leaving him on the second floor landing.

"Just give a yell when it's ready, I have some things to set up downstairs," said Harry as he walked towards his room.

Once inside, he drew his wand and levitated a large trunk out of his cupboard, out of his room, and all the way down the stairs into the wine cellar. He paused a moment to inspect the dank and musty room, thinking how Jaana did an excellent job in repairing nearly everything there, save for the wine bottles that were destroyed. He did note that there were still a few scorched portions of the wine rack, and a burnt odor still lingered in the stagnant air, but considering the extensive damage that was caused by the boggart-turned-heliopath, her work was quite remarkable.

Harry opened the large trunk and began unpacking his potions equipment, setting up a lab on the large table near the stairs. Jaana had agreed that the cellar was probably the best place available for a potions lab. Naturally, Harry had his own reason for wanting to set it up there.

Once Jaana had disposed of the trapped boggart, Harry had returned to the hidden room the first chance he got. Of course, he was much more careful when he opened it again, but the modest chamber beyond held no more unpleasant surprises for him. On the contrary, what he had found there, while quite old and musty, was a very cozy little den, complete with a large Carlton House style desk that came complete with an upholstered oak desk chair. Also in the room was a medium-sized fireplace that was in desperate need of cleaning, a small, single bed with a rag-stuffed mattress that would certainly need to be replaced… if he wanted a bed in there at all, and an oak armoire that still had sets of outdated robes and wardrobe accessories hung within. Along the right wall of the room stood a long bookshelf that held a surprisingly modest number of books. After a cursory inspection of the shelves, all of them appeared to be quite ordinary and outdated, probably some casual reading favorites of the man who used to use that place as a sanctuary from his wife.

The thing that excited Harry the most was that the chamber had a complete potions lab set up in a curtained-off corner. There were four varying grades of caldrons, each on their own fireplate, and one large caldron set up on a retractable arm inside of the fireplace. The nearby cabinet and shelves had a vast assortment of ingredients, but unfortunately, a fair number of the bottles, vials, and jars had no labels. To make things worse, he had no way of knowing how old the reagents that he could identify were, or if they were even still usable. He would probably have to scrap nearly everything and start from scratch, but that would be another day.

What he wanted to do at the moment was to get a basic lab set up to make a new batch of the changing goo. He had a feeling he would need a lot more of the stuff, and very soon. He also wanted to try his hand at making the genetic reversion formula, but he wasn't sure when he could come up with that much gold to begin buying the rather expensive specialty ingredients.

Harry had just closed the lid on the now empty trunk when Jaana called him from the top of the stairs. Making a conscious effort to appear more 'upbeat' in front of her, he ran up the stairs taking them a few steps at a time and raced past her towards the family kitchen.

Harry wasted no time in digging into the meal she had prepared for them. It was just a simple stew, but it was delicious, just like nearly every meal Jaana had made before. It had long been obvious to him that someone had taught her well. Even when their supplies were low, she usually managed to throw something relatively tasty and filling together.

"I'll be out most of the day tomorrow," said Jaana, breaking Harry out of his thoughts, "so I want you to be extra careful around here. I wish there could be someone here to watch out for you… I really hate leaving you on your own."

"I'll be alright," assured Harry between bites of the stew, "I was just planning to work on the back garden tomorrow, and maybe clean up the fountain."

"I'll take a quick look back there before I go, just to make sure there are no surprises growing amongst the hedges," said Jaana as she ate, "I don't want to come back to find you fighting for your life again."

"That wasn't my fault," defended Harry, "How was I supposed to know that a…"

"I'm not blaming you, Harry," interrupted Jaana, "I'm sure that nobody had stepped foot in that wine cellar for decades. I know that I've never gone down there whenever I visited, and Gram would never go down there for anything… she didn't drink."

When she mentioned the long-ignored cellar, Harry suddenly remembered the strange, locked door on the upper floor of the north wing and said, "Can you tell me what's up in the attic… gazebo… thing? I think the access door is locked…" He wasn't quite sure what to call it.

Jaana's eyes lit up, "The Nightwatch! Oh, I had forgotten all about that place!" She quickly glanced at her watch, and then out through the window before frowning, "I've still got some research to do in the library. Come and get me around nine-thirty, ten… once it's good and dark outside."

"What's up there?" asked Harry with more than a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"It'll be a surprise," said Jaana, grinning at Harry's pleading eyes, "but trust me, it'll be worth the wait."

Jaana pulled out her wand and began collecting and cleaning the dishes while Harry carried the leftover stew to the coldbox. As he placed the pot inside, he saw a faint pair of tired, silvery eyes looking back at him from the frosty coating on the lid of the box. He gave the disguised creature a worried smile before closing the lid.

Harry wasn't quite sure he believed everything he was told about what Wynmae was, just as he was unsure about most of the other odd creatures that Mr. Lovegood had described to him during his visit to the strange tower-home. One thing he was sure of was that Wynmae was injured during the fight with the boggart, and she wasn't getting any better.

When Harry had checked up on Wynmae the morning following the incident, he was shocked to find her in much the same shape in which he had left her. The few times she had been injured before, a quick nap in a very cold place would fix her up, right as rain. This time, her lacy, snowflake-textured wings still looked as though they were half-melted away, her milky, bluish-white skin was still mottled with pink and red patches, and her crystal-like hair still appeared singed and uneven. Even while in her vaporous form, she seemed to move lethargically and in a very erratic, unsteady manner.

Harry had considered asking Mr. Lovegood if he knew of any way he could help his injured little friend, but by the way that he had described her species, he was sure the man would be unwilling to offer any advice, even if he had anything useful to share.

After a quick trip to his room to pick up his book, Harry returned to his newly erected potions lab and spent about an hour preparing the ingredients he would need to make more of the transforming potion. He wasn't looking forward to the long, arduous process that the potion demanded, but he knew that the stuff was indispensable to his plans. He took a quick inventory of his on-hand supplies to see if he could make a double batch, but realized that he was somewhat short on a few key ingredients to make the more advanced form of the potion.

He needed a bit more Violet Fingerroot, the less common variety of the Chinese Galangal root, which, while being relatively inexpensive, he would have to owl order from an import shop in Italy, and his supply of almond ash could certainly use some bolstering. Wyvern venom, Sylvan Moorbark, African Coldwater… all rare, but available if you knew who to ask. The biggest problem was the refined Eerie Camphor, as it was very rare and very expensive. The ordinary form of camphor could be found almost anywhere, but the Eerie variety only grew in aged cemeteries where the tree's roots had encompassed a coffin, and not just any coffin, but one that belongs to a female virgin. The Eerie Camphor itself was expensive enough, but seeing how that particular item could very easily be substituted with its more common form, it had to be purchased from the most reputable, and the most costly, suppliers.

Fortunately, there were also many things he needed that he could gather himself locally. A short shift to the Roman burial crypts near Hadrian's Wall could score him the Grimmoss he needed, the Dover woods held a good supply of common elm sweetsap, and he could easily find clambile with a short walk down the seastrand behind his house. He knew that had to conserve as much money as he could until he could finalize his plans for a steady income. Another thing on his 'to-do' list was to retrieve his vault key and invisibility cloak from Hogwarts… that would take a lot of the pressure off, but he knew that his parents' meager savings wouldn't last him forever, once he gets access to it.

He had finished his 'shopping list' and tucked it in his pocket just as the chime sounded from his enchanted hourglass. It was time to practice.

He hurried up the stairs and toward the conservatory. This was part of his plan to make the money he needed, not only to support his gold-hungry potions endeavors, but to also help out with the household expenses. They've been able to fend off starvation so far, but they never seem to have enough gold to get all of the things they really need around the old manor. Magic can cure a lot of ills, but there are some things that a 'Reparo' applied for the umpteenth time just can't fix properly.

That was apparent as he walked into the music room and past the pile he made of the musical instruments which just couldn't be repaired magically. Many of the brass instruments were so old that there were cracks and creases along the tubing, and actual holes worn through the metal in places. The wood on a lot of the wind instruments was rotted and cracked, with the actuators loose and falling out. The stringed instruments seemed to have been hit the hardest by father time. The strings were mostly broken or stretched, and all rusted through, the necks were warped and bowed, and many of the wooden bodies were cracked and worm-eaten.

There were precious few instruments that survived the neglect and the humid, salty atmosphere of being so close to the ocean. The grand piano was mostly intact, but needed many of the hammers and keys replaced, not to mention all of the strings, and the case needed a good refinishing. The small harpsichord was in working order, but needed a good cleaning and a thorough tune-up. The carillon in the corner was also in somewhat a working order. Although the bells never need tuning, many of the lever joints and clappers needed to be repaired or replaced. Everything needed some tender loving care.

The one gem amongst the pile was an old Spanish concert guitar. He wished he knew the story behind it, because the instrument had obviously been lovingly preserved and heavily enchanted against the effects of time and the environment. The case that contained it had hissed when he first opened it, and at the first sight of its gleaming keys, silky strings, and the polished, unblemished body, he was in love. Since then, he made it a point to use whatever spare time he could muster to learn how to play it, and, with the assistance of some very helpful books he had found around the library and conservatory and some clever spellwork, he was quickly mastering the instrument. He only wished he could find songbooks that were created within the last century… the old bardic songs he was practicing with were pleasant to listen to, but were very dated.

Time seemed to fly as he practiced, and it was quite late when he finally realized the time. He sealed the guitar back inside of its protective case and walked from the conservatory towards the library, still very curious about the sealed door and the room beyond.

Again, Jaana quickly hid whatever she was working on as soon as Harry entered the library. As he approached, she smiled a weary smile and said to him, "Ah, it's that time already? Well, come on… you're going to love this."

Jaana gathered up her work and sent it flying back towards her bedroom. She then led Harry into the hallway, up the stairs, and down the west wing hallway, up to the mysterious locked door.

"Which spell do you use to unlock it?" asked Harry anxiously as they stood at the door.

"A very old and obscure ritual is needed to open this particular door," said Jaana in a low, haunting whisper. She glanced back at Harry with a strange, faraway look in her eyes.

Harry's eyes were wide as he watched with rapt anticipation, eager to learn the new, secret magic that Jaana was about to show him.

"First, you hold your wand in your left hand," said Jaana as she switched the wand in her hands, "Then you flip it endwise into the air and catch it by the handle…"

Harry's eyes narrowed as she casually flipped her wand into the air and deftly caught it, doubting that it was any kind of a proper manipulation technique.

"Then you take your right hand and wave it high above your head while chanting, 'Doorus Unlockus,' and finally…"

Jaana paused, apparently for dramatic effect, which worked like a charm on him as Harry leaned closer, trying to decipher the small intricacies of each of her movements.

Jaana grinned broadly as she ran her raised right hand along the top of the door jamb and scooped up a key that had been resting up there.

The look on his face must have been priceless, because Jaana's cool, demeanor collapsed into a braying laugh as she said, "Not everything works by magic, Harry."

She was still chuckling at her own cleverness as she easily slipped the large key into the lock and gave it a twist. Moments later, they were ascending a narrow spiral staircase leading into a dark, domed room. The only illumination came from the dim glow from the lighting in the hallway at the bottom of the stairs.

In the scarce ambient light, he could tell that the only furnishings there was a set of four chaise lounges, the heads of which were aligned towards a circular platform perched in the center of the room. The eight windows surrounding the room each had heavy, black drapes tied up to the sides, and from what he could tell, they looked as though they could completely block out the sunlight during the daytime when drawn. Harry walked over to the window that faced the south and looked out over the ocean, where he could just make out the glittering lights from a few ships in the distance.

"Okay," he said in a less-than-impressed tone, "The view is pretty nice up here…"

"Oh, you haven't seen anything yet," chimed Jaana with a knowing grin, "Just take a seat, lie back and be amazed!"

Harry's eyes narrowed at Jaana once again, unsure if he was having his leg pulled a second time, as he laid back on one of the sofas and waited. He craned his neck upwards to see Jaana insert her wand into a hole in the middle of the center pedestal. The moment her wand was fully inserted, the curtains around the room slid closed, eliminating the dim outside illumination completely and shrouding the room in total blackness. Apparently, the door at the bottom of the stairs had closed as well, removing that source of light.

"Sky," he heard Jaana say softly.

At first, nothing seemed to be happening, but after a few moments Harry noticed a few pinpricks of light appearing on the domed ceiling. More and more tiny dots appeared, some red, some blue, green, orange and yellow… all appearing faster and faster, filling up the blackness with what he could tell was an vivid and accurate representation of the night sky. He could soon clearly see the band of the Milky Way, the fuzzy patches of nebulae and distant galaxies, and the bright, steady dots that were the planets that were visible in that direction, all perfectly unobstructed by clouds or atmospheric distortions.

Harry stared in wonder at the pristine view of the heavens. He couldn't help but to let out an awed 'Wow' when words began appearing, as if being written by an unseen hand, labeling the major cosmic landmarks.

"Welcome to the Nightwatch," said Jaana proudly as she watched Harry's expression, "Summertime generally isn't the best season for stargazing… being that the nights are so short and all the most prominent constellations are seen in the winter," stated Jaana in what Harry recognized as her 'teacher voice,' "but with this, you can view all of the sky any time you like. This was indispensable to me when I was doing my summer Astronomy homework."

Jaana twisted her wand inside of the socket, manipulating it like a joystick and causing the view on the ceiling to spin on its axis to reveal the set of southern constellations that wouldn't normally be visible in that hemisphere due to either the sun's glare or the tilt of the earth. In fact, in this new view, a dotted circle that was labeled 'The Sun' hovered near the center of the dome.

Harry's eyes danced around the ceiling, amazed at the clarity and detail of the cosmic view. Jaana laid down on the opposite lounge as she said, "The best part of this is, if you know what you want to see, you can just call it out… 'Orion!'"

The view of the sky rotated once again, automatically centering the Orion Constellation above their heads.

"Now watch this," said Jaana, "The Orion Nebula."

The sky didn't rotate this time. Instead, the view zoomed in towards the string of stars that formed the sword that hung down from The Hunter's belt, focusing tightly on the fuzzy, yet colourful patch of gas and dust that formed the nebula.

"Betelgeuse," said Jaana, which caused the view to zoom out slightly before panning up to the red star that formed Orion's shoulder. The unseen hand drew a line from the bright red star and then wrote out 'Betelgeuse - α Orionis – Red Supergiant.' A list of numbers and symbols began appearing beneath the name.

"Wow," said Harry again, his eyes transfixed on the bright red dot in the center of the ceiling.

"Wow, huh?" asked Jaana with a sly chuckle, "Let's take a closer look, shall we? Magnify one thousand."

Instantly, the red dot seemed to expand slightly as the astral objects surrounding it retreated off the sides of the ceiling. The star now looked like a fuzzy red, pulsating golf ball. Harry noticed that the numbers below the star's name seemed to periodically change… apparently updating themselves, he thought to himself. Again, Jaana spoke aloud to the room, "Magnify one thousand."

The golf ball sized star expanded again, nearly filling the entire surface, bathing the room in an eerie red glow. He could clearly see the translucent, roiling, and pulsating surface of the ultra-massive supergiant, the fiery tendrils of superheated plasma stretching off from its surface and out into space, and the dark gravity sinkholes that could easily accommodate our own planet Jupiter with plenty of room to spare.

"Is that really the surface of the star?" asked Harry in a voice that clearly reflected his astonishment at the amazing view, "and what do those numbers mean?"

"This place was built several hundred years ago by one of my ancestors. As you can probably guess, he was quite obsessed with astronomy and the universe. What you're seeing is actually the surface of Betelgeuse, in real time. If I remember correctly, that star is about five or six hundred light years away from us... I could be wrong... so if you look directly at the star outside with your eyes, you're actually seeing the light that left that star over five hundred years ago. This view, however, is the star as it is today. Those numbers represent the position in the sky, the brightness, mass and density, the Arithmantic position value, and the astrological influence ratings… among other things. You'll learn about all that stuff once you start Astronomy at Hogwarts."

They spent another hour cruising the virtual cosmos, viewing the nearby planets and their moons, the more distant nova remnants and nebulae, and the far away realms of galaxies and intergalactic astral rogues. Before long, Jaana let out a loud yawn as she rose from her seat and said, "You can stay here for a little bit longer, but I need to get to bed… I have a busy day tomorrow, starting with inspecting the garden for you before I head out. Don't stay up here too late, okay?"

Jaana withdrew her wand from the pedestal, plunging the room into darkness. As Harry inserted his own wand into the pedestal, he waved to his guardian's retreating back, "G'night."

"Good night," replied Jaana through another yawn as she disappeared down the staircase and out through the door.

Harry looked up to find that the view displayed on the ceiling had reverted to the current view of the nighttime sky, still cloud free and crystal clear. He played around with the Nightwatch long enough to ensure that Jaana was tucked away in her bed. He knew from recent experience that she was generally asleep within a few minutes of lying down.

Harry shut down the Nightwatch and returned to his room. He grabbed the bag that he had prepared earlier and then silently vanished from sight.

Saturday, July 10th, 1989 1:22 AM

A shadowy form materialized in the center of a dank, musty room. He remained motionless for a moment, glancing around the room as if to get accustomed with the blackness of his surroundings, while at the same time listening intently for any indication of nearby movement. When he looked to his left, he could just barely make out the set of stairs that led to the upper floor of the building that was known to nearly all of wizarding Britain as 'The Shrieking Shack.'

As soon as he took one silent step towards the stairs, he heard a startled scrabbling of claws on wood. A large, black silhouette ghosted across the sparse moonlight that was creeping in through the cracks of the poorly boarded-up windows. The form moved so quickly and silently that he lost track of where it had gone. He carefully scanned the room for a few moments, then turned his head back towards the staircase, where he came face to face with the biggest, blackest dog he had ever seen in his life. He wouldn't have seen it at all of it weren't for the glistening set of sharp, dirty teeth just inches away from his face and the pair of dark, angry eyes that were affixed on his.

At that same moment, he heard a deep, guttural growl that seemed to resonate within him, vibrating the bones in his chest. The menacing growl was accompanied by a wafting of foul, fetid breath that smelled of stale, rancid meat. Only his training in controlling his emotions prevented him from jumping back in surprise.

"Good evening, Mister Black," he said in a carefully controlled voice, "I'm Harry Potter."

The growling ended abruptly. After a tense moment of silence, Harry felt a feather light touch, cold and wet, running over his face and chest, accompanied by a rapid, frantic sniffing sound which also ended after a few moments.

Harry thought his eyes were playing tricks on him as the dark image in front of him suddenly became blurry, almost phasing into the surrounding darkness. Suddenly, he felt a pair of thin, bony arms grab him in a tight embrace.

"It really is you!" came the crazed, rasping voice of Sirius Black, hoarse from disuse and choked with emotion, "I'm so sorry, Harry… I did it! It was all my fault… I killed them! I convinced them to switch us! But… but how did you know? Nobody knew but us… No one knew… I'm so sorry, Harry!"

Harry awkwardly patted Sirius's back as the man shook from barely stifled sobs, "It's all right, Mister Black. You had no way of knowing that one of your best friends had become a Death Eater."

Sirius gave Harry a final, reaffirming squeeze before pulling back from the boy while wiping the wetness from his eyes on the sleeve of his dirty prison robe, "That's not quite true, Harry. There were signs… changes in his behavior… changes that we chose to ignore. We were so desperate in those final days, and it just seemed out of the scope of possibility that…"

"See?" interrupted Harry, "'we' chose to ignore… 'we' were so desperate… It sounds to me that the decision wasn't entirely yours alone. It would be insanity on the part of my parents to agree to the change in secret-keepers, no matter how hard you argued or tried to convince them, if they didn't trust Pettigrew. The whole of the Fidelius is based on trust. Pettigrew betrayed that trust, not you."

"How do you know all this?" asked Sirius, "Nobody apart from the five of us knew what really happened that day. Pettigrew is in hiding and wouldn't risk blowing his cover by telling another soul, and everyone else, apart from me, died that night."

Harry didn't have to think long about divulging his source. He already knew the caliber of man Sirius Black was and had already promised himself that the fate that befell his godfather in another lifetime would not happen in this one.

"This is going to be hard to believe, but I sent myself a message from the future explaining what had happened that night. Not just that night, but what happened in the years since, and… and what could happen in the future if I do nothing to change it."

Even in the near complete darkness Harry could see the puzzlement etched in Sirius' expression, "What do you mean? What could happen?"

"Well, for one thing, 'You-Know-Who' isn't gone for good," replied Harry, "He needs to come back, and I…"

Harry suddenly felt a sharp pain in the pit of his chest that cut off his voice. The cold, stabbing pain began spreading out along his limbs forcing him to his knees.

"What's wrong?" asked Sirius concernedly as he grabbed the child's shoulders to support him, "Harry? Are you okay?"

"Wynmae…" gasped Harry as he tried to regain his breath. He had been training himself to endure pain for over a year, but what he was feeling went beyond anything he had subjected himself to so far. He had to get back right away.

With great effort, Harry reached into his bag and, after a very brief search, pulled out a leaf-wrapped packet and shakily placed it into Sirius' hand.

"Eat it," wheezed Harry.

For a brief moment, Sirius looked as though he was going to refuse. Although he paused, the unasked question died on his lips as he still quickly unwrapped the pink substance and popped it into his mouth.

"Good," hissed Harry through gritted teeth, "once that takes effect, change into a dog."

"Takes effect? What is this stuff supposed…"

Sirius quickly found himself wondering why his robes were getting larger and larger before he realized that it was he who was actually getting smaller.

"What the…"

In surprise, Sirius clapped a small hand over his mouth in reaction to his own voice, which came out with a child-like whine. "I'm… I'm a kid!"

"Dog," coughed out Harry, "Change…"

Harry watched as Sirius' body morphed from a sickly white-skinned kid into a small puppy that almost perfectly blended in with the surrounding darkness. Once he felt the change was complete, he just managed to scoop Sirius into his arms, and then grabbed the handle of his bag.

"Sirius, do you understand me?"

He felt more than saw the dog nod his head.

"Good, this is extremely important," wheezed Harry as he ran his hand over the entire body of the dog clutched in his arms, "I need to get the feeling of your whole body to do this, I have to know where everything is to move you with me… you must remain completely still… don't move a muscle."

Harry felt Sirius tense up in his arms, becoming so still he couldn't even feel his breathing. He found that getting the dimensions of the things he was carrying was much more difficult in the dark than when he could actually see them, but he felt confident he could do this, even though he had never shifted with another living thing before. He knew that he wouldn't be able to move a person-sized person, but was pretty sure he could remember the puppy's shape… pretty sure…

He closed his eyes, becoming aware of his entire being. Feeling the shoes encasing his feet… the shirt and trousers covering his body. He concentrated on the dog in his arms, the weight of the bag hanging from his hand, the shape and position of each item in that bag. He felt the weight of the coins in his pocket, the band of his watch wrapped around his wrist… everything that was with him and in him. He was aware of his entire being…

…and that being was in the kitchen of the manor… standing on the floor between the nook counter and the coldbox.

Harry opened his eyes to see the familiar surroundings of the kitchen illuminated by the soft glow from the everlit candles in their sconces. He was, as he envisioned, standing just before the coldbox that contained Wynmae. He let the bag he was carrying slip from his cramping fingers and, after making sure that Sirius made it safely with him, set the puppy down and moved as quickly as he could to open the lid on the coldbox.

As he pulled the lid open, a bright, pale blue glow came from within, along with a faint, high-pitched whine. Slowly, Wynmae's limp, glowing body rose from within the box, as if being dangled from an unseen string. Her eyes were wide open, as was her mouth, which was from where that piercing whine was coming. It appeared as though her face was frozen in a pained wail. Harry started to feel dizzy and the room seemed to spin around him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sirius changing back from his dog form, his frantic yipping gradually becoming the voice of a young boy, "…get away from that thing!"

Although he did feel the tugging on his arm, it took him a few moments to realize that Sirius was frantically trying to drag him away from the little glowing creature.

"That's just Wynmae," said Harry in a monotone whisper, the biting pain that he was feeling moments earlier all but forgotten, "She's my friend…"

"Wynmae?" yelled Sirius as he continued his attempt to pull the resisting Harry to safety, "That thing's a Wind Maiden! You didn't touch it, did you? God, tell me you didn't touch it! Harry, we need to get away from…"

A very loud 'pop' echoed throughout the house as Wynmae exploded. A wave of frigid energy expanded out, blowing out the kitchen windows and coating the entire room in a thick layer of frost. Harry and Sirius were blown out through the kitchen archway into the dining room, both ending up unconscious in a tangled, frost-covered heap.

Saturday, July 10th, 1989 4:16 AM Local time - Vegaøyan

A small fishing boat was sitting in the unusually calm ocean waters a few miles east of the Vega archipelago off the coast of Norway. The captain of the boat stood near the aft end twisting a wrench on the stalled engine. He had been drifting since the previous morning when the engine sputtered to a halt. He was confident that he could get it running again, but he also knew that the engine would have to be replaced relatively soon. One of these days it would just give up the ghost, and he wouldn't want to be stranded in the middle of the Arctic Ocean when it happened.

He rubbed his greasy sleeve over his sweaty brow as he straightened up and stretched his back.

'Finished,' he thought.

After switching off the worklight, he looked up at the twinkling stars in the cloudless sky and took a deep breath. The salty air was warm, unusually so for so early in the morning, even in the middle of summer. Intending to try the newly repaired engine, he turned and took a step towards the wheelhouse.

Suddenly, a blast of frigid air coming from the southwest hit him square in the back, nearly knocking him off his feet and causing him to shudder uncontrollably. The flags of the boat flapped wildly for a few moments, then fell still once again. He shook off the initial shock and began brushing the frost off the sleeves of his windbreaker.

'Ain't that the damndest thing,' he thought to himself as he continued towards the wheelhouse.