Ex Mentis : Thanks for the idea but I don't think I'll use it ^^ Sorry. But I'll be sure to keep it in mind, just in case. Anyway, first I have to write 'Of Future and Dark Lords' or I'll be murdered *.*

Arisophalma: Sheesh! You have no imagination! Obviously somebody picked up his wand for him (probably one of the kids) and Hogwarts is a magical castle with super-duper-dandy-handy little things called 'house elves' who can conveniently gather Harry's stuff and magically send it to the other end of the castle. And I know you're just trying to make me look bad! But it won't work! (Don't be like her people she's a very very bad girl!)

Adenoid: Just a question you don't have to answer if you don't want to: are you French by any chance? I'm just asking because of the way you call Umbridge 'Ombrage' ^^ (I'm not criticising! Just curious! Unhealthily so!)

And yes, or rather no, Lily isn't blond, but the woman isn't Lily. Because Lily died before Harry could have a chance to remember her.

So I take it it's not that obvious after all, who the blond woman is!

The door opened and he stepped inside. This time he couldn't see the burning sky or the ashes. He was in the Dursley's house, standing in the kitchen. There was a younger version of himself there and his Uncle Vernon sitting at the table. The young boy lifted a frying pan from the fire and carefully brought it to the table. Dudley came in running at that moment and knocked into the younger Harry. The raven haired boy dropped the frying pan and the sausages fell to the floor.

'Stupid boy!' roared Uncle Vernon.

The beefy man raised his hand and slapped the boy. Then he grabbed his nephew's arm and dragged him in the sitting room. There, he threw Harry to the floor and kicked him repeatedly. At some point, he hit Harry's right arm so hard it cracked sinisterly.

He walked on and left the house so that he was now standing in the park near his relatives' house. There was no one there, apart from his younger self who was crying silently while nursing his broken arm. The slap had left a dark bruise on the boy's cheek.

He watched his younger self sitting against a tree and gently cradling his injured arm. The tears fell silently down the boy's cheeks as he watched the bruised limb and especially the part where the skin had turned an ugly blue.

'Are you alright?'

The younger Harry raised his head to look at the person who had addressed him. A beautiful woman was bending over him. She had long blond hair that fell in locks around her angelic face. Eyes like sapphires were set in ivory skin and a warm hand came to caress his cheek.

'What's your name?' asked the woman.

'Harry.' said the boy.

The hand gently lifted his black fringe and a look of surprise passed briefly on the beautiful features.

'Harry, it's a beautiful name isn't it?' a smile broke on the woman's face. "Harry, will you let me see your arm?' she asked gently.

The boy nodded wordlessly and carefully presented her his arm. The beautiful woman examined it frowning. Then she took out a short stick of dark wood and pointed it towards the boy's arm.

'Episkey' said the woman and warmth enveloped Harry's arm. 'You can move it now.' said the woman putting the stick away. 'Now tell me Harry, how old are you?'

'I'm eight.' said the boy smiling for the first time.

The woman smiled. Her lips moved as if she was saying something but he couldn't hear what she had said as he walked on and on…

Harry woke up sweating and panting as he usually did these days. Briefly he wondered if he would ever get used to this I-just-ran-a-marathon way of waking up. With this sarcastic thought came the realisation that his head felt a lot clearer than the day before. He couldn't quite put his finger on it but if he had to explain it he would say that it felt like the fog had lifted. Memories he never he had were coming back to him, as clearly as if they were from the day before. Unfortunately, most were memories of abuse he had suffered from the Dursleys and it wasn't really something he liked thinking about…

It was after he thought about the mysteries of the world for a good five minutes, lost in the fascinating contemplation of the canopy overhead, that he finally remembered the horrendous pain he had felt before he had passed out. He sat brusquely and started patting his left flank, where the tattoo was. He examined every single spot thoroughly before he was convinced that there was no remaining pain.

He sat there for a few more minutes in a daze, thinking about all that had happened to him in the past few days. Then the door opened and Blaise Zabini entered. The Italian was one of the few Slytherins Harry truly got along with. Years of being a Gryffindor had left the raven haired boy with the impression that most Slytherins had a hidden agenda, which they probably had. It disturbed Harry greatly and kept him from forging true friendships with Slytherins other than Evan, Lisa and Nicolas. Even Blaise wasn't quite a 'true friend' yet.

"Good Morning, O Lazy One!" called Blaise cheerfully, inviting himself inside.

Harry gave him a falsely offended scowl, as the other boy sat on the bed.

"I came to check up on you since I didn't see you in class." said the Italian after quickly examining Harry.

If he noticed the abnormal amount of sweat, he didn't comment on it.

"Oh yeah!" said Harry suddenly realizing what time it probably was. "I fell asleep."

Blaise gave him a quizzical look but didn't insist.

"By the way, I heard from Pansy you were running away from Longbottom."

Harry blushed, feeling slightly ashamed of himself all of a sudden.

"I was thinking of going to see him actually." he said hastily. "Right now, as a matter of fact!"

With that, a light blush still on his cheeks, Harry sped out of the room, under Blaise's amused gaze.

Neville Longbottom had just come out of Transfiguration class and was wondering what he should do to get Harry to listen to him. The day before when he had tried to talk to the raven haired boy, he had run away. Well, not literally, but it was quite obvious that he had avoided him. He had planned to ambush him after class, but Harry hadn't even been in class, so that plan had been abandoned.

Neville sighed heavily as he rounded the corner…and nearly bumped into Luna Lovegood.

"Luna!" he exclaimed as he caught sight of the blond girl.

"Oh hello, Neville." replied the girl with a dreamy smile. "There are a lot of Wrackspurts gathering around you today."

The boy looked at her blankly for a few seconds before he remembered what Wrackspurts were. If memory served Luna meant that he looked worried…or something.

"Er, yeah…I've had a lot on my mind. You know about Harry…" he said.

Luna's eyes widened in understanding.

"Have you talked to him yet?" she asked.

"I've been trying too! But he runs away from me every time!" complained the Gryffindor.

"Yes he would, wouldn't he?" remarked the girl dreamily.

Neville looked at her baffled.

"What? Why?"

"Well, you know what Harry's like. He's probably afraid you'll react like the other Gryffindors." said the Ravenclaw showing surprising insight.

Neville could only nod. He swore this girl never failed to surprise him. She could say the most absurd things one moment and be really sensible the next.

"But what do I do then?" asked Neville, hoping Luna's sensible side was still active.

"You could try and trap him." suggested Luna. "And force him to listen to you."

The boy looked at the younger girl quizzically for a moment, trying to determine whether she was serious or not. When he realized she was, he starting considering her suggestion. It wasn't such a bad idea, he supposed. At least, he was sure Harry would listen to what he had to say.

With mischievous smiles the two started plotting.

After leaving, the Slytherin Common Room Harry started walking up the stairs. He had reached the second floor when he realized he had no idea where Neville was. He blamed Blaise for this! Making him leave in a hurry without taking the Marauders' Map with him. Well, too late now. With no other choice, the raven haired boy started wandering the corridors aimlessly.

After ten minutes of fruitless search, Harry finally came to terms with the fact that Neville was unlikely to just conveniently pop out in front of him. Deciding he should start searching more efficiently, he turned back towards the stairs. He didn't get very far, before he heard Blaise calling him. He turned around and saw the Italian boy hurrying towards him, with a half-excited half-worried look on his face.

"What's up?" asked Harry frowning slightly at his friend's agitation.

"Y-You have to see this!" said Blaise panting slightly from running.

Without another word, the Italian grabbed Harry by the arm and ran off dragging the raven haired boy along. Blaise led him at top speed to a third floor corridor and came to a sudden halt in front of an unused classroom.

"W-What the hell's going on?" asked Harry trying to regain his breath.

Blaise didn't reply but instead pointed to the door.

"Inside." he said.

"What?"

"Just…Just look, I can't explain." said the Italian waving his hands, showing an obvious confusion as to what the problem was.

Harry frowned suddenly feeling very suspicious. He took a precautious step towards the door and peeked inside when he felt someone push him roughly inside. He ungracefully fell forward, letting out a grunt of pain when he hit the stone floor. Before he had time to recover he was attacked by two people hiding in the shadows. A long struggle ensued during which Harry was pushed and poked and tied up.

Once he was finally able to, Harry looked at his attackers. His eyes widened as he recognised the three students who were wearing Cheshire grins.

"Neville! Luna! And…Blaise!" the last name had been a cry of outrage which only served to make the Italian's grin wider. "What is this all about?" asked Harry angrily his eyes flashing with anger.

Neville had the decency to look guilty.

"Well you wouldn't talk to me so…" he offered uneasily.

"But I was going to talk to you! I was looking for you just know!" he turned to look accusingly at Blaise. "You knew that!"

The Italian boy exploded into fits of laughter under the raven haired boy's furious glare.

"What?" said Neville baffled. "Then why did you help us?" he asked the Italian who was trying very hard to stop laughing.

"I-It sounded fun so…" with that he was overcome by laughter and had to lean against a wall while clutching his sides.

"S-Sorry, Harry." said Neville, embarrassment making him stutter.

"Not your fault." muttered Harry. "It's his!" he added jerking his head towards the laughing Slytherin.

Neville and Luna glanced at their accomplice and smiled.

"Anyway, me and Luna wanted to tell you that we didn't think any different of you." said Neville turning back to his captive. "I personally disagree with the rest of the house. I think it wasn't fair treating you that way all of a sudden. In fact, quite a lot of people are regretting it now. Angelina for one. She's been inconsolable ever since you left, what's with Quidditch and everything…" Neville gave Harry an apologetic smile. "The twins have been unnaturally tame since the start of the year and I think Hermione is feeling very guilty over it all."

Harry nodded. A lump had settled in his throat and he didn't trust himself to speak. Blaise had finally stopped laughing and was looking at them solemnly.

"Well, just to say that…well…" Neville glanced at Luna nervously.

The blonde Ravenclaw smiled and continued for him.

"We'd like to be friends with you again, if that's alright with you?"

Harry nodded vehemently, trying hard not to start crying. Really, he thought to himself, he was becoming such a girl!