Disclaimer: Hear-ye, hear-ye! I have an announcement to make: -ahem- I am not J.K.Rowling! Harry Potter does not belong to me, but to her! The truth might hurt, indeed, it might hurt quite a bit, but it is the truth and we must live to accept it! For this, and for my nonexistent lies, I beg your forgiveness. –bows-

Warning: Boy love on the approach. Homosexual situations on the horizon. Slash in coming chapters. And yes, Idiocy and Fluff closing in on us! Watch out!

Author's Notes: There! A new chapter for the lot of you; I'm not quite sure how it turned out since I'm writing these Notes before starting on the chapter, but its looking pretty cool in my head, so I hope it ends up half as well when down in writing. So sit, read and wag your tail if you like it! Oh! And leave a review, you hear?!

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Departure

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'Where in the world is he?' she asked herself in exasperation. Already she had searched the whole of Grimmauld Place and she hadn't seen hide nor hair of Harry Potter. And really, he should be busy brewing one of the potions that they needed, even if there were only a few of those left to do, or reading, or something, and doing these things in a place where she could find him, at that, since he wasn't in the kitchen, the parlor, the study, the library or the attic, not to mention in any of the rooms in the second floor.

Hermione had arrived at the Black House not twenty minutes ago, a great many packages in hand; she had gone with Ron to Diagon Alley and Gringotts to buy the things that Harry needed and arrange a few things with the Goblins, since he would probably get mobbed if he showed up in person, but it had taken more than they thought it would. So much so that Ron had to go straight to the Burrow from the Leaky Cauldron before Molly started getting any nefarious ideas, which left Hermione alone in her trip to the House of Black; her own parents wouldn't miss her for a few hours yet, given that they didn't arrive from work until it was time for supper.

And anyways, if she was late she could always tell them that she lost track of time while reading, which was often the case. So it was decided that she would go and fill Harry in on their shopping adventures and that Ron would make the early trip to Hogwarts tomorrow morning, and they would see him there later on.

Still, she was tired from their day-long expedition and she wanted to find Harry; to talk to him and get him to check over what they had bought. She was sure that they had found everything that he had asked for, but it was better to double-check. Besides, she had talked to Professor Flitwick that morning and she had important news to give, what with their preparations being completed earlier than expected.

It was on the last place that she searched, however, that she found him, and the sight that greeted her was not what she was expecting. For sitting besides Harry's sleeping head, insubstantial fingers trailing across messy black hair, was the colored version of a ghost; a very good looking one at that.

He was pale as moonlight, with longish golden hair and the same kind of boyish charm that seemed to cover Harry like a cloak. It was, however, the way that he was sitting beside Harry that surprised her, for the ghostly boy was bent somewhat protectively over her best friend, as if he could ward off bad dreams with his body. And really, he could be doing just that for all she knew.

Whatever the case, it quite an endearing sight, to be sure.

However, after blinking a few times to get her brain to catch up with her, she came to several conclusions. One; that this must be Aidan, and that he had been able to project himself at last, as he had said he would; Two, that some of her suspicious seemed to be correct, especially when she noticed the way that the other boy was looking at Harry. It helped her come to grips with everything that was happening; and Three, that they must have spent quite a bit of time talking, especially if Harry was still asleep this late in the afternoon.

Stepping into the room, she waved her wand at the door after it was closed, drawing Aidan's attention as soon as she passed the threshold. He was watching her both wearily and with curiosity. "Aidan, right?" she asked softly, and came closer at his nod, "It's me, Hermione. Could we perhaps speak for a bit?"

After giving Harry a long speculative yet gentle look, as if assessing the impact of his absence on the sleeping boy's dreams, Aidan stood up and stepped closer to her, a bit hesitantly, she noted, and whisperingly explained, "I cannot be more than a few paces away from Harry, and I do not wish to disturb his sleep. Could we not speak after he has awakened?" he asked nervously at the end, as if afraid that Harry would wake up at any moment because of their low voices, if his constant glances back at sleeping wizard were any indication.

Then again, it could be because of something else entirely.

Nodding her head slightly, Hermione gestured toward the two armchairs facing the fireplace in one of the corners, "Could we talk there? I can place a spell that will allow us to speak without disturbing him."

Looking reluctantly over at the sleeping boy once more, Aidan seemed to think about it before he nodded tentatively, cautiously, even, his head having tilted curiously at the mention of spells, as if he didn't know what to make of the word. They made their way toward the armchairs and she cast a silencing charm around them before lighting the fireplace with a few waves of her wand; movements that Aidan followed with increasing curiosity. She even whispered the words so that he might hear them, which seemed to help.

"There, we can speak freely now," she said, her tone of voice normal.

Tilting his head in thought and seeming to decide to forgo pleasantries in lieu of satisfying his roused curiosity, Aidan asked a question that surprised her, "Why do you use a wand? That is what they are called, correct?" he gestured toward the one held on her hand, "Harry told me that he hasn't been able to use his lately, but I attributed his need of a focus on the uncontrolled quality of his power, is this not the case?" He looked serious, as if he had been holding this particular question in for quite some time.

Her surprise was quickly pushed aside, however, in the face of such a question, seeing as Harry's magic was a mater of great concern to all of them at the moment, and it seemed, to Aidan as well. "Yes, we call them wands," she answered, "and the way we use our magic, or power, is tied directly to it. You see, all wizards and witches use wands to perform magic, and they have been using them for thousands of years," she answered, trying to keep it simple, "it is impossible for us to channel our power without them, though some can properly control minute amounts of it without their help."

"All Gifted use these wands?" he asked, shocked. His blue eyes were wide and they darted towards Harry constantly and back at her and then her wand, as if he were putting the pieces of a puzzle together. When he turned towards her, Aidan's eyes were oddly focused, intense, as he asked his next question, "So the wild, untamed nature of Harry's power didn't happen because he released it completely without consent and then tried to control it anyways?"

Perplexed, Hermione tried to make sense of this statement, "What do you mean, without consent? All we know is that Harry's magic went out of control in a way that we haven't been able to identify and there wasn't anyone both trustworthy enough and capable enough available to help him to bring it back under his will. Our magic, when uncontrolled, comes in bursts of undirected desire, making things happen around us," she explained, her voice becoming dim as she saw the look of horror crossing Aidan's boyish face, but still forged on, wanting the boy to understand Harry's situation, "Our Magic cannot be released in the physical sense, it does not manifest itself in such a way. The way that Harry's magic was behaving, becoming tangible, even, is unheard of," she told him.

Faintly, the boy asked, as if trying to make sure, "You never fully release your power, then? You never meet its Guardian? It's Sentinel? Ask it for its blessing and teachings? Do you ever see the shape of it? Your power's true form; its representation, have you never searched for it? Do you not become one with it?" he continued asking, his voice becoming both more desperate and more frantic at the look of confusion that she was sure her face was conveying. "Does your power, your magic, even have a form?" he finally asked.

When Hermione simple shook her hear, Aidan slumped in his seat, "Dear Light," he exclaimed, forlorn as he looked toward Harry once more, "I had though...I was hesitant," he muttered, "I did not understand. Please forgive me," he finished, and to Hermione it seemed as if a great weight had been lifted from the teen's shoulders, even if he seemed somewhat overwhelmed by whatever conclusions he had dawn.

Relief flashed briefly across his features, though, and the cautious air that had covered him like a mantle, the hesitation that had been clear even in his voice, was suddenly gone. "Aidan? What do you mean by all of that? I don't understand."

"Of course you don't!" he exclaimed, his tone not malicious, but one of dawning comprehension. "You see, Hermione," he leaned forward, his countenance becoming as bright as the light within Harry's sapphire, brighter even, and even now she could see it shining from beneath the covers covering Harry as he slept, "It was because of Harry's uncontrolled power that I was able to find him, that and the fact that it remained out of his control for so long. It was like a beacon to us. I was very grateful for that, but in my world, in Lumentia, to loose control to such an extent means one of two things.

"The most common of which is that a Gifted, or power user, called upon his full power, freeing it, only to try to subjugate it and place it under his complete control, loosing their connection with it and their blessing. This is not only a taboo in my world, but it is one of the most heinous of crimes, and even then, from the few that have tried, none have succeeded," he explained.

"And this is what you thought that Harry had done?" She asked, trying to understand what he was explaining. Horrified at the thought, for if their power was sentient, she could see how such an act should be forbidden. If he had thought that Harry was doing this, oh dear…but then, he was still here, was he not?

"Yes," he said in self-recriminating tones, "I suspected as such, seeing as I found Harry with his power completely awakened and with him trying to control it, to subdue it. Only someone with a complete disregard for life would dare do such a thing. At the time, I didn't give it a though, so glad that I had found my soul's equal that I didn't completely register the circumstances; I even became worried that my soul mate was corrupt," his tone was soft and his eyes were anguished, "Later, I came to see that his power was not rejecting him, and that in a way, free as it was, at odds with him as it seemed to be, their wills separate and with Harry wanting to control it, his power still wanted to protect him and sometimes even responded to him. This showed itself when his power responded to Harry's wish to ground me in this world.

"But I understand now, I understand that he wasn't doing it consciously, that his power was still acting in his behalf. If what you said is true, and you truly do not let your power free as we do, that it does not have a physical form, then my fear has been misplaced, for Harry only tried to subdue his Power out of ignorance. I was cautious, and I did not know how to act, but now I know," he finished, looking both relieved and happy, without any worries, "Indeed," he said suddenly, as if just realizing something, "it seems that your power, your magic, is very different in nature from our own."

That would explain why Harry's magic seemed so, well, alive. How it could have sought and destroyed Voldemort's Horcruxes. It had always been strange how Harry could pull off some feats of Magic that were beyond anything any wizards could accomplish, but later had to spends days to get a simple charm mastered.

If Aidan's and Harry's power were the same, and it was truly alive, then it would explain so much, especially if Harry's power were bent on protecting him; if fully freed and with only this thought in mind while Harry was in mortal danger, then what happened was merely a result of Harry's power protecting him in the best way it could; by destroying Voldemort. But still, "I think I understand enough of what you're saying, Aidan, but how exactly do you think that our magic and your power differ? And if they are different, then why is Harry's own magic similar to yours?"

Clasping his hands, Aidan seemed to draw inward, "It could easily be that Harry is an exception in your world, probably because he is my soul's equal, a bond that was established upon my birth. Since the Sentinels Gift someone with their power in the first year of their life, they could have Gifted Harry then, following the newly formed link between our souls, though the reasons behind such actions elude me."

Lifting his head, he continued his explanation, his eyes thoughtful, "In my world, our power is an intricate part of our existence; there are those who are Gifted with it, and those who are not. Since the very beginnings of our history this has been the case; the ones who decide who is worthy of wielding it or not are called Sentinels. Like I said, we are not born with our power, but it is bestowed upon us by one of these twelve beings, who are the keepers of the totem's that make up our Gift. If I am not mistaken, your own magic does not come in such a manner, but it is a part of you since birth, correct?"

"Yes," she nodded absently; trying to absorb and understand what seemed like a different way of magic altogether, "Our magic runs in our families, in our blood, though there is the occasional witch or wizard who comes from a non-magical family. But if your theory is correct and Harry was Gifted by the Sentinels of your world, as you say, that still does not explain why he isn't able to use his wand at the moment."

"That might be because now that his power is free," the transparent boy answered after a long pause of consideration, "the only way for Harry to use it will be for him to get to know it first and come to an agreement with it and the totem's that conform it; at the moment, his will and the will of his power are at odds. This could be blocking his magical abilities, overwhelming them."

And since this power was sentient, it could easily do just that, Hermione realized. Her thoughts and conclusions, however, were voiced within Aidan's speculations, "It could be that once his power settles, he would be able to once again use this world's magic."

Finally understanding at least some of the situation, even if she didn't quite grasp the idea of this other world's power, she got to the point that had worried her and those who knew of Harry's situation the most, "And how could he do this? Harry is a very high profile person within our community. If he cannot use his magic, there are those that will take advantage of it, he is not safe at the moment." True, she knew that Harry already had his plans, but he hadn't talked to Aidan about them yet or else the other boy wouldn't look quite as worried as he did now.

When he asked what she meant about Harry being 'high profile' she settled a little in her chair and told the boy just who Harry Potter was in the eyes of the wizarding world. If she knew her friend, she knew that he would never truly tell anyone about his life, and if he did, it would be completely understated and with the merit given to everyone but himself. Something told her, however, that Aidan needed to be made aware of Harry's history sooner rather than later, and it was best if he had the unabridged version.

True, it took quite a while, but she wanted him to understand the whole situation. And while something caught her attention on the other side of the room halfway though her explanations, she continued nonetheless. Finishing her account with the current state of affairs as it concerned Harry, she looked at the frowning boy across from her; his eyes were downcast, his eyes thoughtful, "So you see, Harry can't afford to be without his magic or at least some way of defending himself from it; should anyone find out about its condition, well, I am afraid to even think of the possibilities."

Slander would be the least of Harry's troubles, she was sure.

"I understand," he said softly, his eyes shining as he spoke, "However, he would need to summon the Sentinel that Gifted him with his power and ask for its guidance and its teachings. He would need to see the shape of his power and its strength, the spirit or spirits that represent it and compose it; its totem's. He would need to become one with them until he was whole. Piece by piece, he would need to master them and learn from them, until he and his power can become one, their will united; their trust, unbroken."

Trying to give nothing away, as she saw movement from the other side of the room, she asked the question that she somehow already knew the answer to, "And how will Harry be able to do this, then? How do we summon his Sentinel?"

Shedding a tear, sadness glowing out of his eyes, Aidan simply shook his head, "I do not know. There are no others within this world who can wield the same kind of power, of that I am now sure, and thus there is no one able to help Harry or to summon the Sentinels. If someone were able to wield the same power that I within this world, it would be readily apparent. Without a Gifted you could probably find another way, but the preparations alone would take years, the sacrifices would be many. I myself would not be able to do anything, for I cannot channel the amount of power needed for a summoning without breaking our link or risking Harry's death. He could attempt to come to an agreement with his Power without their Sentinel, but that is a dangerous undertaking, since they would have no way of communicating their wishes and come to an accord; it could take years for them to understand each other. The only way that he would be able to effectively use his power once more," he stated, lifting his eyes to meet hers, "would be to, well…" he hesitated, as if unwilling to voice it.

"Would be for me to travel to your world and learn of my Power from its place of origin," came Harry's voice, startling Aidan something awful. The boy almost broke his neck do to whiplash, she was sure.

Hermione offered her friend a slight smile as he stood up from his sitting position on the bed, from where he had been listening to their conversation since he had awakened. Harry hadn't interrupted while she told Aidan of his life, though she could see that he had wanted to do just that on a few instances, but for some reason he hadn't. Now, however, he came over, still dressed only his pajama bottoms.

She did not miss the quick, darting glance that the intangible boy sent Harry's way.

"I, well," Aidan began, looking somewhat lost on what to say, as if he wanted to reassure Harry, but not knowing how; as if he wanted desperately to find a solution without having Harry suffer for it, to loose his world for it, but finding no other way. He didn't speak again, probably not wanting to say something that would make Harry's choice more difficult then it already was, and seeing that the other boy thought that should one of them cross to the others world, then they would not be able to return, from his perspective, Harry's choice would be all that much harder.

She was not surprised when Harry knelt in front of Aidan, his hands emitting a fain glow as he placed them on Aidan's knees, actually touching them, and looked up at the other boy, who in turn looked completely stunned. Hermione was sure that Harry wasn't supposed to be able to use his power, that is, unless their wills and their desire was the same, if she understood the whole thing correctly.

Locking eyes, Harry simply told the other boy, "You don't have to worry; I have already made my decision. I made it that first day after I met you, and I have been preparing a way so that I might someday come back to my own world, maybe even establish a permanent gateway," he told the other boy, whose eyes were wide and his expression disbelieving, "I choose to go to Lumentia, my little light, with you. And I hope that you will help me find a home there, that you will help me learn of my power."

"But, your world, your friends…" the ghostly teen tried to say.

"This world doesn't need me anymore and my friends will wait until I find a way to return. Besides, I will have your friendship as well, wont I?" he asked, and Hermione giggled at the frantic nod that the blue-eyed boy gave Harry, "If everything works, I will still be able to speak to them at the very least. You have to understand, Aidan, this is my choice, my wish; something that I haven't had a lot of in my life. Even if none of my plans work, and I still find myself without a way to come back, it is still my wish to go with you; so, will you help me?"

Dazed by now, the only thing that Aidan could so was nod slightly, probably overwhelmed by what was happening. And seeing that his soul mate was going to his world, well, Hermione couldn't blame him.

"Good," she said, standing up, "then you should know that most of the preparations are complete then. Harry, Flitwick said that he had everything ready so we can go to Hogwarts tomorrow to finish casting the last few charms."

"Really?" her friend asked, and as he turned back to look at Aidan, she couldn't help but feel that the other boy's mind broke at Harry's next words, "Do you think that I might be able to cross to your world tomorrow?"

oOOoOOo

It took a while to get Aidan to snap out of his shock and to explain their plans to him, as well as their preparations. While he protested quite a bit on a few accounts, saying that Harry didn't need to bring any money, for example, or too many clothes, since they used different garments in his world, he was won over on most accounts with the simple reasoning that Harry didn't know if he would be able to return to his world, so he wanted to be prepared, even if Aidan promised that he would be well taken care of.

Still, when the notion finally sunk into the other boy, he had become frantic, saying that he would need to prepare everything for Harry's arrival and babbling a great many things that neither of them understood. With that parting note, however, the translucent boy had simply faded after a quick farewell. Harry wasn't sure weather to be bemused or flattered that the other teen would go to such lengths to make him feel welcome and simply shook his head as he went followed Hermione down to the kitchen.

After seeing all of the packages, he had sent Hermione on her way so that she might get some rest and had taken all of the things that his friends had acquired for him and spent the night sorting through them and packing them. Books, being some of the most spatial consuming of his belongings, especially since this included a selection of the Black Library, took one whole trunk, while everything else went into one of two compartments in his other trunk; new acquisitions of his as well. And while both of them were bottomless, Hermione had been adamant on him packing the books separately.

He had even bought seeds for the different magical plants needed for the most common of potions, just in case he needed them, and that wasn't even his most strange purchase. He wasn't really sure what awaited him on this whole new world, but something told him that it would be very different to what he knew. Just the concepts behind their magic were confusing to him, but Aidan's explanations were cryptic enough to rouse his curiosity to new heights.

Really, he couldn't wait to see it!

When he finished packing everything, checking and double checking against the list that Hermione had conveniently left him for this very purpose, he wrote a few letters before finally going to bed. And though he wasn't very sleepy, he knew that he needed to rest, so he closed his eyes and forced his mind to clear, laying still until sleep claimed him once again, even if it took a fair amount of time to do so.

oOOoOOo

"Are you sure of this, Mr. Potter?" was the first thing that greeted him when he arrived at the Headmistress' office.

Harry just smiled a lopsided smile, his eyes bright at the thought of what was to come, "Yes, Professor."

Lips pursed, she seemed to scrutinize his face for a few moments before nodding slightly, as if she had found what she was looking for, "Very well," she finally said, a small smile finally making an appearance in her strict demeanor, "If you would follow me, then," she turned and gestured for him, "Professor Flitwick, Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger are waiting for us."

"What about my trunks, Professor?" he asked as he followed her out of her office.

She looked sideways at him as they walked through the corridors of Hogwarts, "The House Elves will take them to the room we have selected."

"Oh, right," he said sheepishly.

Still, he had to admit, even if only to himself, that he was slightly nervous. True, with all the precautions that they were taking, it was a fair bet that nothing would go wrong, but there was still the possibility that he would not be able to come back. He had written letters to the Weasley's, Neville, Luna and Remus, and even to Ron and Hermione, just in case, but he felt somewhat ashamed at not being able to say goodbye to most of them in person.

True, it was not safe at the moment without his magic, and they couldn't risk any of the remaining Death Eaters learning about his plans, but it had been a hard decision to make, even with the consolation that he might yet speak to them later, when he was safely on Aidan's world. That is, if he was able to communicate back at all.

It wasn't a very encouraging thought, that, so he pushed it out of his mind.

However, he knew that this is what he needed to do; his Magic, his Power, his Heart, his Mind, his Soul, and everything and anything else that made him who he was were telling him that he needed to do this; that he wanted to do this.

And it had been a long time since he had done something because of no other reason than his own desires, however selfish they might be; however shallow they might seem. In truth, he was doing this for himself and no one else.

It was a truly liberating feeling.

When they reached the small unused room at the top of one of the smallest towers, the smile on his face had turned into a full blown grin of excitement. This particular tower was rarely used and its rooms used for gests of the school, rare as they were. At the very top of it was a small room, much like an attic, whose walls held the rafters that supported the conical roof of the tower, and stretched up high into a pointed ceiling. Much like the divination classroom, the entrance was hidden by a trap door, only that in this case it was located by a windowed corridor that appeared to be a dead end.

As he poked his head after climbing the ladder, he saw his trunks pushed against the wall, Flitwick and Hermione bent over a book and Ron spelling some furniture out of the way. He quickly scrambled up the rest of the way and gave the Headmistress a hand, alerting the other occupants of the room to his arrival.

"Harry, mate," Ron exclaimed from the other side of the room, "you're finally here."

The redhead quickly made his way across the room, and easy feat that was accomplished in a few stride of his long legs, and gave him a few hearty slaps in the back in greeting, "Heya, Ron, how's it going?"

"You should really see this, mate," Ron steered him into the room after nodding at McGonagall, who was now joining Hermione and the Charms teacher.

He was going to ask what he was talking about when he saw it with his own eyes. True, it had been his idea, but he had never thought about it over much. Now, as he saw the mirror of Erised once more, he couldn't help but tell the difference; where before it had been a single mirror as tall as the ceiling of that old classroom, now it was no more than two smaller mirrors of the same size.

They were still as magnificent as the original, even in their reduced size: which was still a good four feet tall. The frame was the same as the one that he remembered, just as elaborate, but the inscription had changed, and as he looked more closely he noticed that the inscriptions in each mirror were different. Now, carved on top of one of the mirrors he read: Noitcelfer slauq eymt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. Knowing now how to read it correctly, however he could easily decipher its meaning: I show not your face but my equal's reflection.

Understanding quickly dawning on his mind, he swiftly read the carved inscription on the other mirror: Ohcest rapretnu ocymt ubeci ovru oyt on raehi, which after some trouble with a few of the words he made out to mean: I hear not your voice but my counterparts echo.

Turning toward the grinning Ron, he exclaimed, "These are brilliant!"

"I'm glad that you think so, Mr. Potter," came Flitwick's excited voice, as he made his way to where they were standing, "It was a fair bit to divide the original enchantments and the mirror itself, not to mention altering them to suit our needs, but it was a fascinating project." The small professor was literally bouncing as he explained this, "With the true purpose of the mirror now changed, even though the enchantments did falter slightly at first, they are now as strong as the originals. If everything works out as we hope, should you desire it, the mirrors will allow you to communicate with its counterpart. Already we have tested them out here at Hogwarts, we will just have to see if they work as well across dimensions."

"Thanks, Professor," he said sincerely. Though he had derived the idea from his Father and Godfather's own mirrors, he really didn't know if it could be pulled off. True, they had researched the possibility, but it had quickly become apparent that the inherit magic of the mirror would need to be extremely strong for it to work across dimensions, and while he immediately knew that the Mirror of Erised would be powerful enough for this endeavor, modifying the charms and enchantments on it to make his idea possible was completely out of their league. Truly, without the help of their diminutive professor it would have been impossible for them to attempt, not to mention everything else that he and McGonagall had helped with. After all, the mirror was not their only safeguard.

"It was a pleasure, Mr. Potter," the charms master piped up, "Now, is everyone ready? We need only to cast the Fidelius and all will be set for your departure."

Smiling, Harry simply nodded, knowing that McGonagall and Flitwick had helped in preparing the rest and only the secret needed to be placed into his soul, something that was easily done by the new Deputy Headmaster after a lengthy chant. It wasn't a flashy piece of magic at all, and the only indication that it was successful was that when finished, everyone, including Flitwick himself, noted that the trap door had vanished and that they couldn't see out the windows.

It was their hope, that with the combination of enchantments between the mirrors and the small soul-link between this room and the secret that he now carried within his soul, along with a small amount of other measures, that it would permit for a connection between the two dimensions to form, allowing Harry to have an anchor back in his original world. Seeing that the room was part of the most magical building in the world, it was their best bets in making this happen.

"The room that houses a part of the Mirror of Erised can be found on the tenth floor of the small Visitor's Tower of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he related, knowing the Secret without having to think about it.

"Well done, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, smiling slightly as the trap door reappeared, "Now, if you could write the secret in this piece of parchment, we will be able to reveal this location to the rest of your friends later on." She passed him a parchment and quill as she explained the rest, "Dobby the House Elf will be charged with keeping an ear on this room, should you wish to speak to anyone."

"Thank you, Headmistress," he said, passing the parchment over to her, gratitude etched on his features.

The next thing he knew, he was engulfed into a hug by Hermione, Ron following soon behind her, saying their goodbyes, extracting his promise that he would take care of himself, and that he should keep in touch with them as much as possible. They wished him the best of luck even as Hermione assured Ron that Aidan would take good care of him, even if the wink she threw his way as she said this was somewhat confusing.

Giving the letters he had written to Hermione, his trunks were levitated to the center of the room along with the other half of the mirror and a smaller chest with a few things that the Headmistress had prepared for him, even as another round of goodbyes ensured. With a final nod at his Professors and a smile to his friends, he took out the glowing sapphire that hung from his neck and held it tight, it had been warm for quite some time now. With a final look around he spoke, his voice steady but happy.

"I'm ready, Aidan."

And with that and a wash of white light that flowed from the crystal like water, covering both Harry and his belongings, he was gone, leaving his best friends and Professors with the image of his brilliant smile in those last moments etched within their minds; it brought a thought within them that made them understand his choice to leave a great deal more.

For they had never seen him smile so freely before.

-

TBC…

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Author's Notes: There you go! Whew! Was this chapter hard to write! Tell me what you think about it, ne? Did you like it? Was your tail wagging by the end? Are you hoping for more? Well, let me know all of this and more! Review!

-Throws Scooby-snacks into the crowd-