Well people, heres the next chapter right on time, if possibly a day early. As per usual I do not own, nor will I receive any monetary benefit, from anything that is not mine. Enjoy!

Peeling away from Harry without so much as a glance in his direction, Daphne took her seat at the Slytherin table and quietly filled her plate; all the while ignoring the questioning look from Malfoy. Eventually his unwaivering attention began to spoil her appetite. Politely replacing her silverware on the table she wiped her mouth before turning to the blond boy and giving him the iciest stare she could muster.

"Yes, Malfoy? Is there something you wanted, or were you just going to stare at me all day like some kind of idiot?"

"Why did you come in at the same time as Potter? Your face was flushed the same as his, what were you doing with him?" He asked angrily.

"I wasn't aware that randomly walking into the Great Hall for a meal at the same time as someone else did constituted as evidence that they were doing anything of a questionable nature together. If that were the case, should I be worried about all the times you've entered a room with Crabbe and Goyle?"

With Malfoy fuming she returned to her meal but her peace did not last long.

"You didn't answer the second question, Greengrass." He said sneering as if he had caught her in a trap.

"I believed it was already answered in the nature of my reply." She said airly. "But if that was too complicated to understand, I was doing nothing with him. As for our faces being flushed, its autumn, and that means its getting colder outside, and when it gets colder generally peoples cheeks and faces get a little red. Are we done with our lesson or are you going to ask me for my permission to begin dating Astoria?"

Astoria, who had been listening in to her sister giving Malfoy a verbal bashing, ducked her head to hide her blush. Malfoy blubbered like a fish as he tried to come up with a retort. Unable to settle on anything sufficiently scathing he began to attack the chicken on his plate with a murderous look.

Deciding to seek out Hermione after lunch Harry made his way to the library. As usual the bushy haired witch was at the furthest table, surrounded by the bookshelves as if they were a forest. Which at one time they had been and that thought amused him to no end, he wondered what her reaction would be if he pointed out that a large grove was probably killed to give her the books she cherished so much. Bringing up the possibility that the very pages she was turning could have been made out of some magical creature's home held some merit but he didn't want to give her another thing to crusade for.

He stopped at the end of a row and watched as she read. A particularly stubborn lock of hair refused to stay tucked behind her ear and repeatedly fell in front of her face obscuring the words. After the third time, hearing her growl with frustration, Harry conjured a hair tie and came up behind her. Ignoring her startled squeak he secured the brown tresses as best he could.

"Hey beautiful." He said, kissing the top of her head before taking a seat across from her.

"Harry!" she admonished in a whisper. "What are you doing? Anyone could've just seen us!"

"Relax Hermione, its the first Saturday of the school year and about ninety percent of the student body just completed most, if not all, of their placement exams. The last place any of them want to be is in the library. Aside from you and I, the only other person in here is Madam Pince."

Looking like she was about to argue she smiled and resumed her reading, humming quietly to herself while running her foot against Harry's leg. After watching her for a few more moments he spoke up.

"What have you found that's so interesting?"He asked curiously unable to make out the writing from the other side of the table.

"Herbert Hooper's History of Interactions with Magical Entities, its all about the interactions between Witches and Wizards and magical creatures of Britain." She said in an excited whisper but then looked down at the book as if it was it's fault that it was written the way it was.

"But it seems to be a bit biased, talking about how they enlightened the savages and lesser beings. Aside from that its actually very informative, goes into detail about the various cultures even if it was only to insult how they were different."

"Good to know the wizarding world hasn't changed a great deal since..." Harry peaked at the cover, "1564."

The both lapsed into silence, Hermione continued to read while Harry had taken up looking out the window across the grounds.

"It really is amazing, in a frightening sort of way, how the Ministry continues to function the same as it always has despite the fact that countless people have tried to take it over and force it to change." Harry said looking over to his bushy haired friend.

"Thats why its up to us to change it from the inside." Hermione said without looking up. "Think of it like evolution, the magical society is an animal that has ceased its own development voluntarily despite the fact the world around it continues to change. Eventually its going to either silently pass away as Muggleborns come in to learn what they can and then leave, forming their own communities and slowly replacing the Ministry itself, or another animal, like Grindewald, will kill it and take its place. Either of these outcomes is possible and a completely natural process but both of them will cause the loss of an incredible amount of knowledge. So its up to us to stimulate the necessary changes so it will survive longer."

Harry felt himself prickling at her words.

"Then let someone else change it or let it pass away quietly."

Hermione looked up at him startled by his words, this wasn't the Harry she had grown up with. He looked defeated, like he truly didn't care what happened to the Wizarding World.

"You seem surprised. You're a smart witch Hermione, you know nothing lasts forever and everything dies. Ron will die, you will die, and sooner or later this way of life will die too."

"Why are you talking like that Harry?" she asked reaching across the table putting her hand on his.

"What has this world ever done for us? They praised an infant as a hero because his mother died to protect him then spat on him when they didn't like what he said, they look down on you because of your heritage despite the fact that you're more intelligent than ninety percent of them. So tell me, what in our experiences has led us to come to the conclusion this is worth us slaving over to save?"

Hermione fell quiet thinking of his words. There had been much that had happened to them in their short time in the wizarding world that supported his arguments, but then there had been those wonderful moments. The first time they had done a spell, their first broom ride, even Hermione had been exhilarated despite her terror, their first magical holiday, there were too many to remember but the more she thought about it the more she saw that something was wrong.

Then it clicked with her, it was wonder, their wonderment at magic itself had been slowly corroded. Where once it had been something grand and beautiful she now only saw it as something to study, to learn, a tool to be utilized and nothing more. It wasn't just their saturation in the wizarding culture that had killed it but their realization at the destruction it could cause that had jaded their view of it. She no longer had that overwhelming feeling of joy when she learned a new spell like she had in her first year, she no longer wrote back to her parents with unbridled excitement about what she saw at Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. The revelation was sobering and depressing.

"You see it now too. Its not just a government or an attitude you're trying so hard to change Hermione, its a belief system, and it's not in your power to change someone's beliefs no matter how hard you try. No spell or amount of magic can do that." Harry said sadly his eyes on their hands.

Pulling away from him, Hermione held onto the edges of her open book as if she'd fall into a chasm if she let go. Her shocked eyes started unmoving at a space not filled with words at the top of the page. How had her view of magic changed so much?

"There you are! I've been searching half the castle trying to find you two..." Ron's voice trailed off as he saw the state his friends were in.

"Why are you looking so glum?"

"Not glum, in thought. You know, something you don't recognize because you don't do it very often." Harry smiled deflecting Ron's next question.

"Oi!" the red head started before Madam Pince descended upon them sounding like a leaking gas pipe.

Having the decency to look properly chastised Harry and Ron broke out into laughter when they were sure the librarian was far enough away as to not hear them. Hermione herself looked on the verge of joining them hiding her face behind her book.

"So you lot going to come down to the Quidditch Pitch to watch the tryouts?" Ron said sufficiently quiet this time.

"Could use your help picking out the new Seeker, mate."

Harry looked over to Hermione, her eyes questioning him from over Hooper's book. Glancing back to Ron, he saw him trying to hide his hopeful look behind a nonchalant front. Personally he really didn't want to go out to the pitch where people would ogle him, but if he didn't do something that appeared as 'normal' they'd start asking more questions and speculating about him. Or even worse, they would start following him around to learn about what he was up to.

"Sure, I'll be there."

"Excellent!" Ron said sliding into the chair next to Hermione and pulling it close to hers.

"So what are you reading, love?"

"Herbert Hooper's History of Interactions with Magical Entities." She said with a grin.

"Herbert who's what? What are you reading that for?" He asked resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Just brushing up on the early interactions between the wizarding world and magical creatures, it has an interesting chapter on House Elves."

"You aren't on about S.P.E.W. are you?"

"No Ron, I'm not on about S.P.E.W. I'm on to something bigger than that."

Ron let out a theatrical groan flopping back into his seat.

"What's a poor bloke to do when his girlfriend cares more about Goblins than she does him?"

Hermione swatted him with the book before returning to reading it. Resting his head on her shoulder again he whispered into her ear causing her to blush a bright red.

"Ron, Harry's right there." she implored.

"Right, sorry about that mate." Ron's voice trailed off as he saw the seat once occupied by their friend was now empty.

"When did he leave?" he asked receiving only a worried glance from Hermione.

Harry stalked away from the library, ignoring the few greetings sent his way by passing students. The scene he had just witness felt like a hot knife twisting in his gut, it wasn't because he had to watch Hermione and Ron acting affectionately, that was the nature of keeping up pretenses. No, his anger was because he could tell Hermione was enjoying Ron's attention and behavior. It was one thing to act like you were enjoying it but he could tell that she really was. The way she shifted toward him when he sat next to her, the swooning look in her eye as he tactfully asked for Harry to come down for the tryouts, the ease of her change of demeanor when he showed up.

Ducking into an unused classroom he stopped in front of the teachers desk, leaning against it for support. He knew Hermione would stick by him and do what she thought needed to be done to help him and keep him safe, she had risked his ire during third year when she had informed McGonagall that he had received a Firebolt from unknown sources, was she doing the same thing here? Making him feel safe, loved, and that there was someone on his side when he felt the whole world coming to bear on him. Was she even capable of giving up something as precious as her virginity for him? The possibilities swirled in his mind, his rage building at the thought that she could just be leading him on until she saw him stable enough to be pointed in other directions for help.

With an angry roar his tumultuous emotions triggered a burst of accidental magic that sent the neatly arranged desks flying into the walls. The sound of splintering wood and twisting metal filled the small room with a symphony of destruction, Harry hardly noticed as flying splinters rebounded at him cutting his face and hands and embedding themselves in his robes. Getting his ragged breathing under control he surveyed the damage he had caused. What had once been well made and decorative seats and desks were nothing more than piles of broken wood and nails lining the edges of the room, the black board was in shards and the teacher's desk more resembled mulch than anything else.

"Damn, now I have to fix this." He said with a sigh, his anger abating with his outburst.

Pulling out his wand he set to work casting Reparo more times than he could count. After half an hour of casting the room was back to its previous state, all except for the teacher's desk. Being so close to the source of magic had left it more mangled than any of the furniture and seemed to be beyond his ability to put back together.

"Having some trouble Mr. Potter?" Headmistress McGonagall asked from the doorway.

"A little." He said sheepishly scratching the back of his head.

She scanned the room with her sharp gaze, her mouth pressed into its customary thin-lipped scowl. Finding nothing amiss but the pile of wood chips where a teachers desk was supposed to go she closed the door behind her and came beside Harry.

"Well you certainly did quite a number here, Harry." She said, her voice softer than usual.

"Sorry about that professor-"

"Minerva." the older witch interrupted.

"Minerva." Harry corrected. "I had a little accidental magic incident and broke a few things, I've managed to fix most of it."

"Indeed, from what I was told it sounded like you were trying to dismantle Hogwarts one classroom at a time." She said with a hint of humor.

Harry looked down at his trainers, no longer did he wear the worn out and taped together ones the Dursley's had been so kind to 'provide' him with. After all the funerals, he had gone on a modest shopping spree at the urging of the Weasley clan purchasing an entirely new wardrobe. Ron had suggested they burn his old clothes in a large bonfire and hold a party but Harry rejected that idea saying they didn't know how much harm it could do to the Burrow's yard if they did. His friend had quickly agreed and early the next morning Harry quietly left the house taking the trunk full of tattered scraps of cloth he had worn for so long up to the old tree where they had taken the portkey to the Quidditch World Cup.

Almost reverently he had resized the trunk and ran his hand over the clothing as memories flashed before his eyes. Pulling an over sized shirt to his chest he cried, cried for the life that had been thrust upon, cried for for the way he had been treated for so long without knowing why, cried for that feeling of wanting to be loved by his relatives that he still felt even now despite what he said in front of other people. When all his tears had been spent he replaced the shirt he had removed and buried the trunk at the base of the tree and covered it up again making it barely discernible from the ground around it. He had stayed there staring at the same spot of grass until the sun was nearly at its peak and was only pulled away when he heard the Weasley's calling him for lunch.

The sound of Minerva's voice pulled him from his recollection.

"I find myself rather pleased to have been pointed in your direction Harry, I've been meaning to talk to you ever since you assaulted my fire place the other evening." her Scottish brogue becoming more pronounced.

Harry just looked at her waiting for her to continue.

"Quite frankly, I'm worried about you. I don't know how you managed to carry the burden you have from such a young age without it breaking you, and with Voldemort gone it would be horrible to see you break now."

He opened his mouth to object but Minerva plowed on giving him no opening.

"Do not try to say that everything is fine because only a fool would believe you. I remember an eleven year old wizard fighting against that evil man when no one would listen to him, including myself as regretful as that maybe. You've been constantly on the look out against him even when no one would listen, it practically consumed you during your sixth year. You may have thought everyone was ignoring you as we had done so often in the past but I assure you, we noticed. Fighting against Voldemort had become your life. To be honest it came as a surprise when you made your advance on Ms. Weasley.

"You've been fighting for so long that you probably don't know how to stop. While this may come as a surprise to those who don't understand and can't comprehend what you've been through it does not come as a surprise to some of the staff here. What I'm trying to say, Harry, is that we're here to help you if and whenever you ask. That is all, I do believe Mr. Weasley wanted you down at the pitch for the Quidditch tryouts."

Harry stood staring at remnants of the teachers desk taking in Minerva's words. Was that the answer to why he was feeling so differently? Could he not end his own personal battle with Voldemort even though the man was dead? Feeling the need to get out of the suddenly claustrophobic castle he walked to the door in a daze.

"And Harry," Minerva called out stopping him in the doorway, "please refrain from attacking anymore innocent furniture."

Cracking a wary smile he closed the door behind him leaving the Headmistress with the remains of the only object he couldn't fix himself. Pulling out her wand she waved it at the pile of wood and frowned when not a single chip moved.

There it is, chapter six of Sands, currently I have no clever name for it but I will by the time you read this. I'd like to thank my wife for once again proof reading for me and still enjoying what I've written at the same time. I would also like to thank the few people that did leave me reviews, its nice to see that people enjoy my writing enough to take the time to post something no matter how short.

I think I'm going to be making a habit out of saying this but this is a Harry and Bellatrix story as much as it seems that it is not at the moment. Please be patient and enjoy how I am taking the time to develop characters. Too often I feel like the author has just thrust what they want to write upon me without making it credible to any degree, thus taking away from or totally destroying my enjoyment of their work.

Lastly, my laptop is dead. Something heavy teamed up with gravity and attacked from above. Now I'm in Iraq with a dead laptop, currently I am using one of the wonderfully provided computers at the 'internet and phone cafe' if it can be called that. I have some thing coming up soon but I will still try my best to keep to my update schedule so if things are a day or two late please be patient with me.

Hope you enjoyed! Until next time, Doom West.