Harry Potter Returns
A Harry Potter/Superman Returns Crossover

Chapter Twenty-Three
Harry Potter Returns

Updated July 15, 2011

"What?" Ron exclaimed. "What d'you mean, you're not coming back?"

"Just what I said," Harry replied calmly, in spite of the emotions roiling inside him from Ron's response. Hermione simply looked perplexed by what he'd just told them.

"Well that's just bloody great!" Ron snapped. "You drag our arses across the pond to some forsaken place in the States, telling us that it's a lot better than Hogwarts, and a couple of months later you want to leave?" Ron shook his head. "Harry, I can't believe this!"

"It does seem strange, Harry," Hermione chimed in. "I really do like this school — it's teaching me a lot more than Hogwarts could."

"Me too!" Ron added emphatically. "And you know how much I don't like school! What in bloody hell is going on with you, Harry?"

"I — just — don't nee— er, want to go back," Harry said. It was hard trying to explain this without spilling his guts to them about his powers and the magic he'd learned in the Dark Dimension. "I just spent two years kidnapped in another dimension, and I need to get away from where it happened. Does that make sense?"

"Ye-e-es," Hermione admitted. Ron didn't answer; he just folded his arms and looked obstinate. "But," Hermione continued, "you haven't said anything about leaving until today. You've been back for almost two months; why bring it up now?"

"I've been mulling it over," Harry replied. And truthfully, he had, even if he'd made the decision before they came to the Kent farm.

"You might have at least told us about your misgivings," Hermione reproached him. "We'd have been more prepared for your decision if we'd known you were thinking about it."

Harry looked down; that was true, he should have come clean with them before this. It was evident that super-powers were no guarantee of being reasonable, even with a super-intelligent brain. "Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry."

Hermione smiled, appearing satisfied with this remark, but Ron still looked upset. "I don't know if 'sorry' is going to cut it, Harry. I mean, what am I going to tell Mum and Dad? 'Oh, Harry decided to drop out of the Academy and go back to England, but we're going back?' Mum never wanted us to go in the first place!"

Harry was still for several moments, contemplating what he should do next. Well, it was a time to reveal secrets — why not go all in? "I have something to show you," he said, standing. He held out his hands toward them. "Take my hands."

Hermione reached out and took Harry's hand. Ron looked at Harry's hand for a moment before asking, "What are you going to do? D'you think a game of 'Ring Around the Rosey' is going to make everything better?" he added, snarkily.

"I'm going to show you why I'm not going back," Harry said. Ron shrugged disinterestedly, but dropped his hand into Harry's. There was a flash of light — a moment later they were standing on the peak of a mountain.

"What —?" Ron looked around in confusion. "Where are we?"

"We're in Tibet," Harry said. "On Mount Kailash, in the western part of the country."

"Harry, you can't be serious!" Hermione blurted our. "Even with teleportation techniques we learned at Academy, we couldn't possibly travel that far in one teleport!"

"Merlin's pants, it's bloody cold!" Ron gasped, wrapping himself in his arms.

"Oh, sorry," Harry said. A moment later the icy winds blowing across the mountain top changed to a warm breeze. "Is that better?"

"How did you do that?" Hermione asked. "Changing the weather like that is even harder than teleporting us 12,000 miles!"

"I learned a few things in the Dark Dimension," Harry told her. "I also learned that I didn't know as much as I thought, so when I got back I spent time reading all the books in the Academy's library."

Hermione looked skeptical. "Harry, that's not possible. Do you know how many books there are in the Academy's library?"

"65,432," Harry replied. "I kept count."

Hermione and Ron looked at one another. It was obvious that they considered what Harry was saying to them was bollocks. On the other hand, there was no denying that they were standing on a mountain top halfway around the world from Kansas.

"How could you possibly read that many books in the few months we were there?" Hermione asked. "I read fast, but it takes me a day or two to go through the average book."

"I read fast, too," Harry said. "And — well, I have a slight advantage: I can read at super-speed."

"Speed reading," Ron said. Both Harry and Hermione looked at him. "What?" he said. "You think I never heard of speed-reading? But even that wouldn't be fast enough to go through all those books, would it?"

"It's more than just reading fast," Harry said. "I can read the average book in about 10 seconds. And I can remember everything I read. You could open a book to any page and I would be able to quote what's on that page word-for-word."

"How is that even possible?" Ron asked. "Did Clea put some kind of spell on you?"

"No," Harry said. He steeled himself to continue and said, "The day I got back from Hogwarts this summer, I saw a big meteor heading straight toward number four Privet Drive. At the last second it pulled up, missing the house but crashing several miles away in the countryside. I flew out there on my Firebolt and found that it was a spaceship, and Superman, that superhero bloke from America, had returned to Earth."

"I remember him," Hermione said, looking excited. "Did that super-powered girl come with him?"

"No," Harry said. "She came later, I think. But let me get back to the story. When I found him, he was weak; there was something called kryptonite embedded in the side of his ship over the hatch, and it was sapping his strength. I was trying to pull him away when a lightning bolt hit his ship and knocked us both out. When I woke up, I found out that combination of the lightning and the kryptonite had transferred some of his powers to me."

"Get out!" Ron said loudly. "That's unbelievable! You have super-powers? Why didn't you ever tell us?"

"I told you a little about them," Harry said, "but I didn't tell you just how powerful I'd really become."

"Why not?" Hermione asked.

"I wasn't sure if I'd have them for long," Harry answered. "As it turned out, Superman also got some of my magical ability. I thought he considered that a fair trade, and we were going to leave things as they were, but just yesterday he told me that he wants his powers back, and he's trying to figure out how to do it."

"Well, that's…amazing, Harry," Hermione said. Harry heard the conflict in her voice. She was amazed at the idea that he had super-powers, even more than he'd let on before, but was upset that he hadn't told her or Ron the whole truth. "So…what are you doing with these super-powers?"

"At first, I thought I would go back after graduation and take the Auror qualification tests, keeping my powers a secret and using them without letting anyone know about them," Harry explained. "But now, I'm not so sure that's a good idea. My level of magic is much, much higher than anyone graduating from Hogwarts could ever compete against. I might still do it, but I'll have to work out exactly what my goals are."

"Do something super," Ron challenged him. "I want to see."

Harry sighed, then turned and walked several yards to where a large boulder was resting on the ground. It was about the size of one of the Ministry's automobiles. Harry reached down, getting one hand under it and lifting it into the air. The boulder felt very light in his grasp — it was nowhere near his weight limit. He turned back to Ron and Hermione. "What do you think?" he asked.

"Holy shite!" Ron said. Both he and Hermione were open-mouthed with amazement. "That thing must weight tons!"

Harry set the boulder back in the depression it had been resting in. Instead of walking back to them, he rose into the air and floated over to where they stood. "I decided to stop keeping my secret from you, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

Hermione looked like she was thinking furiously. "So… is this how you know Clark Kent?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, suddenly on alert. It was supposed to be impossible for anyone to know Clark Kent was Superman, because of the Fidelius Charm Professor Dumbledore had cast over Clark. The only people who knew were those who had already known of Clark's dual identity, or had magic more powerful than Dumbledore's. And the Fidelius Curse kept anyone who already knew from telling anyone else. Only the Secret Keeper, Clark himself, could tell anyone his secret identity.

"Well," Hermione went on, "Clark Kent knows Superman — that's how he got all those exclusives about him in the Daily Planet, along with Lois Lane." Harry relaxed a bit; Clark's secret was still safe, apparently.

"How'd you find all that out?" Ron asked her.

"I popped over to the library in Kansas City to read back issues of the Planet," Hermione answered. She turned back to Harry. "But — now what, Harry? If you're not going back to the Academy, I don't know if I want to, either."

"Me either," Ron agreed.

That wasn't what Harry wanted. "You still have a lot you can learn there," he pointed out.

Hermione looked conflicted at that. "I know," she agreed, reluctantly. "But that's not the point."

"Oh?" Harry was surprised at this — Hermione normally took her education very seriously. "What is the point, then?"

Hermione and Ron looked at one another. Was some silent communication passing between them, Harry wondered. Ron turned to Harry. "Well — it's — you know…it's complicated."

"In what way?" Harry asked, now interested to hear.

"Well, you're our friend, Harry," he finally blurted out. "We want to stick by you, no matter what. In case You-Know-Who tries to find you again."

"We'll always help you, Harry," Hermione added. "No matter what happens."

Harry's heart was touched, even if he knew both Ron and Hermione were completely out of his league, now. He had the power to rule the world, if he wanted to. But, he realized, thinking like that was probably what corrupted Voldemort, who believed himself superior magically to every other wizard except possibly Dumbledore. But Voldemort didn't realize just how small-time he really was, given wizards like Dr. Fate and sorcerers like Dr. Strange, both of whom could easily defeat him. And even they were nowhere near Harry's current level of magic.

"I'm really happy to hear you say that," Harry told them. "I think we should all go the Burrow to see your mum and dad, Ron — from there we can work out what's going to happen next." And I'll avoid Ginny as much as possible, Harry added to himself.

Ron smiled, appearing satisfied by this, but Hermione asked, "What about Linda? Does she know about your powers? Are you going to leave her here?"

Harry had a plan for Kara, away from Clark's influence. "I was thinking, actually, of having her come with us to the Burrow, to meet your family, Ron." That would give him some time to convince her not to listen to Clark, to make her own mark in the world.

Hermione looked startled. "But what would Mrs. Kent and Clark say about that? Aren't they her guardians?"

"I'm sure they'll let her go," Harry hedged evasively. He and Kara might tell Mrs. Kent, but Harry didn't want Clark knowing where she was — there was no telling what he might do in his present state. And he was going to have a talk with Dr. Fate — perhaps Chloe could tell him why Clark was acting so erratically now. The only problem was, he hadn't talked to her or Fate since before he left the Academy, with all the time she was spending with Clark. Well, Harry decided, he would have to take a quick flight to the Academy and hope to find her there.

=ooo=

Lex Luthor sat quietly in his cell, planning contingencies in case Tarquin didn't come through for him. He had no intention of coming through for the trustee, however — his plan was to win Tarquin's trust, not to make a wand for the imprisoned wizard. There was no way he could construct a wand — he had no knowledge of how they were made, though he understood that a small amount of magical substance was embedded in the core of a piece of wood. Some type of spellwork must be involved, Luthor speculated. But what they were, he had no clue, nor any way to perform them.

He hoped to coax Tarquin into divulging what other ways a wizard might escape the island (because Azkaban was on an island, he'd overheard guards saying things to that effect) without a wand. If a wizard could do that, he could do it as well.

There was no hope of a "legal technicality" setting him free this time, Lex knew. The judicial system these wizards followed was pretty medieval. From what he'd overheard, Lex was lucky he was even granted a trial — in the not-so-distant past, wizards accused of crimes were sentenced without one. He'd also heard that, before You-Know-Who (the only name the guards used for Lord Voldemort) began breaking his followers out of Azkaban, only one person had been known to escape — one Sirius Black, who was considered one of the most dangerous wizards alive.

Luthor heard footfalls outside his cell; someone was approaching. The footfalls stopped just outside the door. Was it Tarquin? Luthor wondered. The small hatch in the door was unlocked, but not opened enough for Luthor to see who was outside. "Is someone there?" he asked. "Tarquin?"

"Mr. McTavish has been unavoidably detained," a voice drawled lazily. "But I was fascinated by your claim to be able to create a wand, Mr. Luthor."

"Who are you?" Lex demanded. Whoever he was dealing with, the man evidently had more pull with the guards than Tarquin did. "Why would you think I made such a claim?"

"Lucius Malfoy, at your service," Malfoy drawled, answering the first question with barely concealed sarcasm in his voice. "Did you make that claim to McTavish, or not?"

"I did," Luthor answered. There was no use denying it. But he could probably still maintain the illusion that he really could do it. "Are you interested in one as well?"

There was a chuckle from the other side of the door. "I must say, Mr. Luthor, for an ignorant Muggle you seem unusually confident in your abilities. There is no way, however, for a non-magical person to construct a wand."

"Don't be too sure," Luthor cautioned, still unwilling to let his bluff drop. "I may know things you're not aware of."

"I can't imagine what they would be," Malfoy sniffed. "But I would be willing to procure the necessary items for you to construct one, if you're still willing."

Bluff called, Luthor thought. But— "I would be more than happy to construct a wand for you, Mr. Malfoy. For the right price, that is."

"Excellent," Malfoy responded. "I will get those items to you in a day or so. But I must warn you," he continued, "if you fail to create a working wand, for any reason, I will make sure that your stay here at Azkaban is very unpleasant indeed. Now, good day." The peephole in the door slammed shut.

Luthor sat back on his cot. Well, that might have gone better, he thought. It looked like he'd painted himself into a corner. But a lot could happen while he was "constructing" the wand. He would just have to take steps to make sure it happened in his favor.

=ooo=

Two days after Christmas, Harry and the others made ready to return to Britain and Ron and Ginny's home, the Burrow. He had decided not to let Mrs. Kent know; the chance was too great she would ask Clark about it. Harry wasn't even sure if going to the Burrow would throw Clark off their trail, once he found out — he had magical ability that probably exceeded Harry's, though Harry was not sure how he'd gained that ability. Clark had been able to defeat Clea in her home domain; no small feat, that! Harry himself had trained, unwillingly, for two years in the Dark Dimension, but he'd been unable to free himself from Clea's hold over him.

The trip to the Academy to talk with Chloe had been futile — there was no sign of her there, and Illyana did not know where she was. Harry was left with a vague, unsettled feeling that something was wrong. But, there was nothing to be done about it, so he'd flown back to Kansas feeling ambivalent about the whole thing.

Kara, too, was unsure about going to the Burrow without telling Martha or Clark, but Harry pointed out that Clark was being unreasonable in his objection to Kara's desire to be a public superhero (which Kara agreed with) and that Martha might tell him, sometime after the fact, that Kara had gone to England with Harry, and where (which Kara wasn't so sure about, hence the ambivalence).

"Someone should know where I'm at," Kara argued. "Otherwise both of them are going to worry. Maybe I can tell Martha and ask her not to tell Clark, beyond telling him that I'm okay and not to worry."

"I suppose that's reasonable," Harry agreed, a bit reluctantly.

Hermione and Ron were also a bit upset about running off to England, for different reasons. "It seems wrong to just leave without properly saying goodbye," she told Harry. After Harry explained Linda would tell her they were leaving, Hermione dropped her objection.

Ron's reasons were more straightforward. "Mum's going to have a fit when we show up, especially since we didn't make it home for Christmas."

"Just deal with it," Harry suggested, with a roll of his eyes.

They agreed to meet in the barn just after lunch, around one p.m. With the 6-hour time difference between Kansas and Britain, that meant they would arrive at the burrow around seven p.m.

Harry teleported into the barn a few minutes before one, finding Hermione and Ginny already there, with their trunks and cages for Arnold, Ginny's pygmy puff and Crookshanks, Hermione's cat. "Ready to go?" he asked both of them, but carefully keeping his eyes only on Hermione.

"Yes," Hermione said, smiling. "It will be nice to see England again, even if it's rainy or snowing at the Burrow. I've really missed it."

"So have I," Ginny added, looking directly at Harry. "I wish Ron would hurry up and get here, so we can get going."

Harry blinked. He looked at Hermione, who smiled innocently at him. "Er — didn't anyone mention that Linda is coming along, too?"

"What?" Ginny snapped, looking furious. "You're joking! Tell me you are! Besides, she's underage — she can't leave the United States without the Kents' agreeing to let her go."

"She's coming, Ginny," Harry said flatly. "Clark is being unreasonable about letting her…" Harry trailed off; obviously he couldn't say just what Clark was being unreasonable about. "Er, not letting her do things the average 16-year old can do."

"Well, she's not staying at the Burrow!" Ginny told him hotly. "There are a couple of inns in Ottery St. Catchpole — she can go there if she wants to join you in England!"

"That's not your call to make, Ginny," Harry said, as calmly as he could. "It's your mum and dad's decision."

Ginny crossed her arms, giving Harry a Don't-You-Think-I-Can-Handle-Them? look. "We'll just see, then," was all she said.

Ron popped in, dropping his trunk on the barn floor and placing Pigwidgeon's cage on top of it. "Whew," he said, wiping his brow of imaginary sweat. "Just got finished packing! Glad I wasn't late — it's a long teleport to the Burrow…" Ron went silent, seeing the anxious look on Hermione's face as well as Harry's stony expression and Ginny's don't-mess-with-me look. "Everything copasetic here?"

"Everything's just brilliant," Harry said, trying to sound sincere but unable to keep a hint of sarcasm out of his tone.

The screen door on the house swung closed, and Harry glanced through the barn wall to see Kara making her way toward them, pulling a valise on wheels behind her. She walked into the barn smiling at the four Gryffindors. "I told Martha just before I left," she said to Harry. "She promised not to tell Clark unless there was some type of emergency."

"Good enough," Harry said. It was less than optimal — Clark probably wouldn't have any trouble locating Kara in England, if he really wanted to find her. For once, Harry hoped Clark would concentrate on the problem of transferring the powers Harry got from him back into his Kryptonian body, and not worry about Kara. "Are we ready to go?"

Everyone nodded assent. "Okay." Everyone joined hands, standing around the pile of trunks. "Here we go." There was a flash of light and everyone —

—Suddenly found themselves next to the garden outside the Burrow's back door. In spite of all the problems he'd had in Britain, Harry was happy to see the Burrow again. It was his second-favorite place in the world to be, next to Hogwarts itself.

Ron was smiling happily, too. "Sure is nice to be home again — not that I didn't enjoy being in Kansas," he added quickly, for Harry's benefit.

"No argument here," Harry said softly. "I always enjoy my stays at the Burrow." He looked over at Kara — Linda, Harry remembered to call her, when she was using her secret identity. "What do you think, Linda?" he asked her.

Linda was looking at the absurdly tall house, with levels that appeared to have been added at random. "Well, it's…interesting," she finally said. "I don't see what's holding it up, though."

"Well, magic, of course!" Ron said cheerfully. "Dad added the top three stories himself; the house was only three stories tall when Mum and Dad moved in, back in 1970."

Ginny had rolled her eyes at Ron's enthusiasm; she'd levitated her trunk and Arnold's cage and was walking toward the Burrow's back door. "Let's go inside," Harry said, not wanting to give Ginny too much of a lead in arguing why Linda shouldn't stay there. He levitated everyone's trunks, and they followed Ron and Hermione and Harry and Linda up to the back door.

Just inside, Mrs. Weasley was hugging Ginny enthusiastically. Her face lit up even more as Harry stepped into the kitchen. "Ah! You're all back! It's wonderful to see you again, Harry dear! And you and Hermione as well," she added, looking at Ron. Her eyes flickered over Linda questioningly — it was obvious she wanted to know who she was.

"Thanks," Harry said. "Um, Mrs. Weasley —?"

"Yes, dear?" Mrs. Weasley smiled at him.

"If you don't mind, I brought along a friend to spend some time with us…" Harry gestured toward Linda. "This is my friend, Linda Lee. I hope it's no bother."

"Um —" Mrs. Weasley looked surprised and nonplussed by this request.

"I was thinking," Ginny put in. "Linda could stay at the inn over in Ottery St. Catchpole, if we're too crowded here."

Mrs. Weasley's smile was frozen on her face. Harry could see her glancing toward Ginny, as if trying to read what had happened between Harry and her. How big does this conspiracy go? Harry wondered. First Ginny, then Hermione trying to get them hooked up, and now Mrs. Weasley looked to be in on it as well. Finally, Mrs. Weasley said, "Oh tosh, it's no bother at all, dear! Any friend of yours is a friend of ours, too! I'm sure we can make room for one more person."

Ginny looked chagrinned that her mother had caved in so quickly, but the expression disappeared as soon as it was formed; she wasn't giving Harry the satisfaction of getting his way.

Mr. Weasley entered the kitchen. "I thought I heard familiar voices out here! Welcome home!" Ginny ran over to him, giving him a big hug. He clapped Ron on the shoulder, then extended his hand to Harry. Harry and he shook hands; Mr. Weasley then smiled at Hermione. "Wonderful to see you again, Miss Granger!"

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," Hermione beamed. "It's wonderful to be here!" she gushed.

Mr. Weasley looked interestedly at Linda. "I don't believe we've met yet, Miss, eh —"

"Linda Lee, sir," Linda offered her hand. "I'm a friend of Harry's, here from the United States."

"Ah! Very nice to meet you!" Arthur seemed excited to meet someone from the States. "Were you attending the Academy with Harry and the others?"

"No," Linda shook her head. "I'm not a witch, though I know about them, and wizards."

"Oh really? Well, I hope we'll have a chance to chat, later." Harry could see the wheels turning in Arthur's head — he loved everything Muggle, and would probably pester Linda with question after question about them, unless Harry kept that to a minimum.

Mr. Weasley turned to his wife. "Molly, dinner certainly smells delicious. I hope we have enough for all our new guests."

"Oh yes," Mrs. Weasley nodded. "I've just gotten it ready. We may have to spread it a bit thin, though."

"Well, we'll make do," Mr. Weasley said. Everyone sat down at the kitchen table as Harry levitated their luggage into the hallway near the staircase. There was something he could do to make sure they didn't run short of food, and no one would be the wiser. As Mrs. Weasley starting filling plates with kidney pies, corn, and thick slices of homemade bread covered in butter, Harry enchanted each of the pots and bowls she was using to keep the food in it filled and hot. As a result, by the time she had made the final plate, for herself, and sat down next to her husband, everyone was enjoying a full plate of food.

"Well," Mrs. Weasley said. "That certainly went further than I thought it would."

Arthur had been talking to Ron. "I was surprised to see you and Ginny here — you had written that you wouldn't be coming back home until next summer."

"Well, plans change," Ron said, evasively. "Besides," he added, "We couldn't have brought you your Christmas presents if we didn't come to visit you."

"Presents?" Molly said, looking pleased, but adding, "Oh, you shouldn't have, dear." Ron managed to look both smug and demur.

"Harry and Hermione helped, too," Ginny added. "They got presents for Fred and George as well. Ron and I got your and Mum's presents."

Mr. Weasley looked pleased as well, and had the good grace to be more accepting of his gift. "I'm quite surprised and pleased, thank you! This is a pleasant change from the recent…" His voice trailed off as Molly shot him a warning look.

Harry was on alert. "Recent what?" he asked. Mr. Weasley now looked uncomfortable that he had almost let something slip.

"I think we should tell them," he said to his wife. "They will have to know eventually, anyway." Mrs. Weasley sighed, looking reluctant, but nodded her assent.

Mr. Weasley leaned over the table, speaking very softly. "You-Know-Who has become more active in the last few months. There have been a couple of attempts to kill Professor Dumbledore, even in Hogwarts itself, suggesting that security for the school has been compromised."

"Oh no! What happened?" Hermione asked, concerned.

Malfoy, Harry thought. Aloud, he asked, "Is Voldemort showing himself openly now?"

Mr. Weasley winced, as did Molly. "Harry, please don't use his name," he pleaded. "There are rumors that he plans to make his name Taboo."

Harry frowned. "Sorry," he said. "But nothing happened just now, so I assume he has not yet cast the spell."

"Fortunately!" Molly said.

"What's Taboo?" Linda asked.

"It's a very powerful spell," Harry answered. "When a person casts it upon a particular word, anyone saying that word creates a magical disturbance that makes them trackable by the caster or anyone he's empowered to do so. The area of effect is large; it can be several hundred miles from the point of origin, which is usually where the caster resides."

"And where do you think he is?" Linda continued.

"You-Know-Who remains hidden," Mr. Weasley spoke this time. "Though we suspect he is at Malfoy Manor, in Wiltshire. Several searches of the grounds have yielded no evidence of his presence, however. Lucius Malfoy remains in Azkaban, and his wife Narcissa has been cooperative with the Ministry so far, so we are still not sure where You-Know-Who is at."

"But Draco is still at Hogwarts," Harry muttered. He was sure Draco must be up to something; when he'd been in Diagon Alley back before school began, Draco went into Borgin and Burkes, a place known for dealing in rare and powerful Dark magic items. There could be no good reason for Draco to go in there. Unfortunately, he'd been distracted by Ginny, Fred and George before he had a chance to listen to the conversation between Draco and Borgin, and by the time he was able to tune in it was over. "I think he might have something to do with the attacks on Dumbledore."

Mr. Weasley looked skeptical. "It seems unlikely, Harry," he said, frankly. "Draco was not a part of either incident."

"What were the incidents?" Harry asked.

"The first occurred during the Hogsmeade visit in mid-October. Katie Bell was carrying a package back to the school when she accidentally touched what was inside and a powerful curse was unleashed. Fortunately, Hagrid was following her and he got her to the infirmary before the curse proved fatal.

"The second incident occurred over the holiday break, just before Christmas Day. Professor Slughorn, the current Potions teacher, was celebrating Christmas holiday early by opening a bottle of mulled mead to share with Professor Trelawney. However, before they drank it he detected an odor coming from the mead and tested it for poison, finding a very potent one mixed in. The bottle was one Professor Slughorn had said he planned to give to Professor Dumbledore as a Christmas present, but he apparently decided to drink it himself, fortunately."

"Where was Draco during all this?" Harry wanted to know.

"He had gone home on the Hogwarts Express," Mr. Weasley answered.

"And there was no link between Malfoy and either of these incidents?" Harry mused. "I don't buy it — I know he went into Borgin and Burkes the day we were at Diagon Alley."

Mr. Weasley looked confused. "I don't see how you could have, Harry; Borgin and Burkes shop can't be seen from Diagon Alley, even if you're standing at the entrance to Knockturn Alley itself."

Harry could have kicked himself for not thinking of that, but even as he opened his mouth to improvise an excuse, Hermione spoke. "Harry followed Malfoy down Knockturn Alley using his Invisibility Cloak."

"Oh?" Mr. Weasley looked bemused. "How do you know that?"

"We were covering for him while we were at Fred and George's shop," she answered immediately. "He got back just as Mrs. Weasley rounded us all up to leave. He even talked to Fred and George a bit before we left."

Mr. Weasley turned to Harry. "Is that true?"

"Uh, yeah," Harry said, sounding reluctant. But in fact he was grateful to Hermione for covering for him. She had obviously realized he'd used his powers to watch Malfoy going in to Knockturn Alley and had provided an alternate explanation as to how he knew where Malfoy had gone. It was a good thing he'd decided to tell her and Ron about his powers, Harry realized.

Mr. Weasley sighed. "Harry, you really must be careful when you're out in public like that. I shudder to think what would happen if you came upon a group of Death Eaters."

Harry hung his head, but only to hide the smile that came to his lips as he thought of what would happen if that scenario came to pass. The Death Eaters would find themselves way out of their league if they attempted to curse him, especially now. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Mr. Weasley laid a fatherly hand on Harry's shoulder. "It's alright," he said, gently. "It's just that we don't want anything to happen to you."

After dinner was finished and the dishes cleaned and put away (Kara washed while Harry and Ron dried and put them away), the group retired to the living room to get better acquainted. Mr. Weasley was nearly quivering with excitement to talk to Kara, who was as far as he knew a Muggle with knowledge of magical people. "It's really quite fascinating," he told her, "just how Muggles are able to mimic much of our magical abilities with non-magical items. Take eckeltricity, for example: a marvelous idea, though impractical for wizards, as it functions erratically in the presence of magic."

Linda nodded attentively. "That would be a problem," she agreed.

"Indeed!" Arthur was quite keen to discuss the merits of magic over Muggle technology. "I would like to discuss it with you sometime —"

"Arthur," Molly interjected, speaking softly (for once) but in a commanding tone. "It would be polite to let Linda tell us about herself rather than debating Muggle items versus magic."

"Ah, of course," Arthur agreed, though he was clearly disappointed at being derailed. "So, Linda, what would you like us to know about yourself?"

"Well, there's not much to tell," Linda said, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "I was an orphan at the Midvale Orphanage, in Midvale, Kansas, until I was adopted by the Lees. I lived with them for fourteen years, until I discovered that I was related to Martha Kent. I went to visit her, to see if she knew what had happened to my birth parents, but she didn't know. Instead of going home I decided to stay with Mrs. Kent, to help her around her house. I met Harry while he was visiting Martha's son, Clark, and well, here I am."

Harry listened silently as Linda described her life story. It was pretty much the story they'd put together to tell people, to cover her sudden appearance in Smallville several months ago.

"And how did you know Clark Kent?" Ginny asked suddenly, turning to Harry. There was a trace of challenge in her expression, as if she were daring him to answer.

"Er — I met him in England right at the beginning of summer holiday," Harry improvised. It was close to what Clark had said about them meeting — leaving out the mention of his parents, of course; everyone here knew James and Lily Potter were dead, murdered by Voldemort.

But Ginny didn't leave it alone. "Where would you have met? Didn't you go right home to Surrey after Hogwarts?"

"Yes, but I didn't stay at home," Harry hedged. "I took the Underground round the city, and happened to meet Clark as he was heading to King's Cross, to go to Heathrow and a flight back to America. He said he'd been traveling for several years and was ready to see his mother and friends once again."

"And now," Mrs. Weasley broke in, "You and Linda are — dating, is that right?" It was clear to Harry that she didn't want the answer to that question to be "yes."

"Kind of," Harry answered, and Molly sat back, digesting that response. Harry could tell by her expression that it was a hard idea to swallow. If he didn't know better, he'd suspect that Mrs. Weasley had been grooming Ginny to become his girlfriend. While he might have considered that at one point, the idea now seemed surreal and a bit absurd. Who wanted a girlfriend who kept track of your every movement and everyone you talked to?

"I'd say Harry did alright," Ron chipped in. "Linda's a real nice girl."

The looks Molly and Ginny gave Ron would have melted him on the spot, had he noticed. As it was, Molly turned to Linda and said, "Well, dear, it's wonderful to have you here with us over the holidays."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Linda smiled. "I'm sure I'll enjoy my time here."

=ooo=

"So," Harry asked, "What do you think?"

Harry had just told Ron and Hermione his plans for post-Christmas activities. They were sitting in Fred and George's old room, where Harry normally stayed these days when visiting the Burrow.

"I don't know," Hermione said, uncertainly. "We made such a fuss about going to the Academy that leaving it and going back to Hogwarts seems like we didn't do well enough to stay there."

"And," Ron reminded him. "We did learn a lot at the Academy — more than we'd ever learned at Hogwarts! In a way it's almost like going backwards."

"I thought you didn't like schoolwork anyway," Harry grinned.

"Well," Ron rolled his eyes. "I never like doing work when there's something better to do, but you have to admit, I was doing good at all my subjects there."

"B's and C's are not really 'good,' Ron," Hermione pointed out.

"Because you wouldn't help me on the tests!" he objected, outraged.

"I wasn't going to help you cheat," Hermione sniffed.

"Okay, okay," Harry tried to cut the bickering short. "Primarily, I think I need to be in England again. Clark is acting weirdly these days and I think he's treating Linda unfairly." And maybe I can do something about Voldemort, he thought to himself.

"Why doesn't she just go home to her parents?" Hermione asked, reasonably.

Because they don't exist, Harry thought. Aloud, he said, "I think she was having issues with them as well."

"Hmm," Hermione looked pensive. "Sounds like the problem is with Linda, not her parents or with Clark."

Harry was annoyed at that. He couldn't tell Hermione everything, but Clark was acting out of character from the man he'd met back in June. "No, it's Clark," he insisted. "He's making unreasonable demands on both me and Linda."

"Like what?" Ron asked. Hermione cocked her head, listening as well.

This was getting nightmarish, Harry thought. He was having to pile lies on top of lies to keep Kara's secret identity safe. At least there was no chance he could give away Clark's secret identity, anyway; the Fidelius Charm would keep anyone except Clark himself from telling them he was Superman.

"He didn't think Linda and I should be going out together, since she's barely 16 and I'm closer to 18 now, subjectively if not chronologically. In fact, I just had my sixteenth birthday last July. Does that sound reasonable to you?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know," she replied. "I'd have to hear Clark's arguments."

"Well, they mostly go along the lines of 'Because I said so,'" Harry snorted.

Ron looked as if he'd been thinking furiously. "So… what happens to Linda when we go back to Hogwarts?" he asked.

That was a good question, Harry knew, one that they were still not sure of the answer to. "She might get a job here," Harry temporized. "Maybe in London — she could work in an office in London, or something like that."

"That's a bloody long way from Hogwarts," Ron remarked.

"And what will you be doing back at Hogwarts?" Hermione wanted to know. "You told us that you read every book in the Academy's library before we left — is that what you plan to do at Hogwarts?"

That was, in fact, Harry's plan. It might not tell him anything he didn't already know, but going through Hogwarts library would let him compare the two systems more thoroughly. Not to mention comparing them both against the magic he'd learned in the Dark Dimension. "I suppose that's a good an idea as any," he shrugged.

"I bet Dumbledore will be happy to see us again," Ron theorized. "He always liked you, Harry."

Harry grunted in a non-committal fashion, but Professor Dumbledore was actually another reason he'd wanted to go back. There'd been two attempts on his life since school started, and he was already suffering from the effects of a curse that would probably kill him before school started in the fall.

Plus, there was always the Voldemort problem. When they'd gone off to Academy, Harry hadn't wanted to deal with it, preferring to wash his hands of the whole thing, reasoning that Voldemort would not cause more problems until after he found Harry. But Voldemort had been causing problems, from what Mr. Weasley had told them, and it was likely he'd continue to do so. The first chance Harry got, he'd find out where Voldemort was holed up and offer him a deal he couldn't refuse.

Hermione and Ron eventually went back to their own rooms, leaving Harry to plan for their transfer from the Academy back to Hogwarts. He smiled, thinking for a moment he'd leave Ginny at the Academy, but decided that would be unfair. Within a few minutes he'd crafted a letter to go to both Professor Potter and Professor Dumbledore, explaining their desire to return to Hogwarts. The why they wanted to return was a bit fuzzy, he admitted to himself, but he hoped the two professors would respect their wishes.

When the letter was finished, Harry created a duplicate and sent each one off, one to Hogwarts and one to the Academy, using teleportation magic neither the Academy nor Hogwarts had taught him. Included in the text of the letter was instructions on how they could contact him directly: by writing their responses on the backs of the letter; when they stamped it with their school's seal, the letter would teleport back to his desk.

Hogwarts was bound to be interesting, Harry thought, even if he couldn't really learn anything from it now. He'd missed a lot of the people there, even some of the teachers. Plus, there was Draco Malfoy — Harry looked forward to seeing him again, especially if Draco had anything to do with the attempts on Dumbledore's life. He didn't know what he'd do about Quidditch — he'd have an unfair advantage if he tried to play now. But, he knew, it was likely that the captain of the Gryffindor team would seek him out to take the Seeker's position. Well, he would deal with things like that as they arose, he decided. Harry laid down on one of the beds and willed himself to sleep.

=ooo=

The morning of January 5th, London King's Cross was bustling with activity: travelers carrying with suitcases and trunks moved through the station; tourists pointed excitedly to points of interest in their travel brochures. Trains were arriving from various locations and departing to York, Doncaster or Cambridge. Conductors and ticket agents were directing people to their departure platform; porters were loading and unloading baggage. In general the station resembled little more than haphazard crowds of people moving in and out of the trains that departed the station or arrived there from other stations.

Platform 9 was as busy and hectic as trains arrived and departed; into this controlled chaos appeared five teenagers, so unobtrusively that no one ever noticed their arrival.

Harry looked around the platform, assessing any potential threats to him or those with him. There were no Death Eaters present (the left arm of everyone on the platform showed no Dark Mark), nor any Aurors (Harry could recognize them by their impeccable Muggle suits and the cheaters Aurors always wore when in public). "It looks clear. Let's find some trolleys for our trunks."

They loaded four trolleys with baggage and cages: Hermione's trunk and cage for Crookshanks; Ron's trunk (but without a cage, as Scabbers had turned out to be a fugitive Animagus, Peter Pettigrew, and the idea of owning a pet now creeped Ron out); Ginny's belongings and tiny cage for Arnold the Pygmy Puff; and finally, Harry's trunk and cage for Hedwig.

"Is this where you board the Hogwarts Express?" Kara, who was dressed up in her Linda Lee wig, glasses and clothing, asked.

Hermione pointed to the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10. "No, we have a special platform — Platform 9¾.

"Nine and three-quarters?" Linda repeated, dubiously. "I don't see anything there but a wall."

"We'll show you," Hermione smiled, taking her trolley and pointing it toward the barrier. "Watch this." She rolled the trolley toward the barrier, gaining speed until Linda, frowning, called out to her.

"Watch out for —" Hermione's trolley reached the wall and passed through it, and she disappeared right behind it. "Wow," Linda said. "That was cool!"

"I'm next," Ron announced. He grinned at Linda then shouted, "Geronimo!" and dashed toward the barrier, passing through.

Ginny, who'd remained silent after saying goodbye to her parents, looked at Harry, carefully avoiding Kara's gaze. "See you on the other side, Harry." She rolled her trolley through the barrier, leaving Harry and Kara alone.

"Well, she's certainly persistent," Kara said, folding her arms across her chest in an expression of annoyance.

"Right," Harry agreed, softly. "But I'm really not interested in her. She just won't accept that."

Kara looked sidelong at him. "Maybe she'll find a new boy at Hogwarts this year, and give up on you. From what you've said, it's happened before."

"I suppose," Harry said. He didn't really want to discuss it. "Are you ready to see the platform where the Hogwarts Express departs for Hogwarts?"

"Sure." It was Harry and Kara's plan for her to follow the train in her Supergirl costume, to stay in Hogsmeade while she and Harry decided what to do about her future as a superheroine. Up in the secluded area in Scotland, there was very little chance of encountering non-magical people other than the odd tourist. They were normally handled by the anti-Muggle charms on and around the castle — such spells made non-magical folks avoid the area of the castle, seeing it as a broken-down ruin that made them feel uneasy and wish to avoid it.

"Go on through, then, and I'll follow," Harry prompted. "Just walk forward and when you hit the barrier, you'll pass through to the other side, Platform 9¾ ."

Kara nodded, took a slow, deep breath, then walked toward the barrier. But as she touched it, she felt solid resistance. She looked back at Harry. "It's not working!"

"That's strange," Harry frowned. He stepped up beside her, next to the barrier. "Unless — I suppose it's enchanted to allow only magical folks to pass through."

"But, you've told me that some witches and wizards are born to non-magical parents," Kara pointed out. "Wouldn't they be allowed to escort their children to the Hogwarts Express?"

Harry reconsidered. "Yeah, you're right. Maybe there's a spell that allows them to pass through under those circumstances. I think I can fix that for you."

Harry made several gestures over Kara. "I'm putting wards on you that will defeat Anti-Muggle and Muggle Detection Charms. If the barrier tries to sense you are a Muggle, it will think you're a witch and let you pass through."

"What do you think you're doing?" Harry and Kara both turned toward the new voice. A portly conductor was standing there, eyeing them suspiciously. "You're not planning on defacing that wall, are you?"

It must look strange, Harry knew, to see two people standing in front of a wall, regarding it so intently. "Uh — no, sir."

"Well then, move along, move along, get to your train or go back into the station," the conductor suggested, crankily. "You don't need to be loiterin' around out —" The conductor's face suddenly went blank as Harry made a subtle hand gesture. "Uh— " the man blinked a few times, then stared at Harry in confusion. "Sorry, was I saying something?"

"Just that it was about time for your train to leave the station," Harry said innocently, while Kara hid a smile.

"Oh," the man said, still looking confused. "Well, have a good day…" He wandered off, leaving Harry and Kara alone in front of the barrier.

"That was mean," Kara teased him.

"Not really," Harry replied. "It's better than he doesn't start to wonder why we were in front of this barrier." He gestured to the wall. "You're ready to try again."

"Okay," Kara said. "Here goes nothing —" She stepped toward the barrier, this time passing through the wall effortlessly. Harry nodded, satisfied that Kara was now immune to Muggle Repelling Charms and any wards designed to cause Muggles to see illusions placed on certain places like Hogwarts.

Harry pointed his trolley at the barrier and stepped through. On the other side, on Platform 9¾, he heard the familiar hustle and bustle of young witches and wizards greeting each other after the Christmas holidays. It brought back memories he hadn't thought of for a long time. Kara was nearby, and he smiled at her, just he saw a large group of students who had clustered around Ron, Hermione and Ginny, suddenly look his way, pointing and talking excitedly. "Hey! Harry! You're back!"

In a moment he was surrounded by Hogwarts students, all wanting to talk to him at once. "Looks like you got taller, Harry," Dean Thomas, who was fairly tall himself, said to Harry. They stood almost eye-to-eye now.

Katie Bell was in the crowd as well. "Harry," she said, sounding business-like. "We can really use you back on the Quidditch team. I'm team captain, but I missed the first couple of games because of — well, an accident…"

Before Harry could reply, however, Michael Corner spoke up. "You know that Snape is the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, don't you? They made Horace Slughorn the Potions teacher."

Harry shrugged. "I'd heard about that," he said, truthfully, but didn't bother to add that he didn't care one way or another about what Snape was doing now.

"So where you been, Harry?" Seamus Finnigan piped up. "We heard the four of you were goin' to a new school."

"Yeah, it was great!" Ron, who'd walked up to the edge of the crowd, along with Hermione, while Ginny hung back watching, replied excitedly. "We really learned a lot there!"

"If it was so good, then why'd you leave?" Zacharias Smith inquired, a bland smirk on his face. Harry ignored him.

"So what are you going do now that you're back?" Ernie Macmillan, another Hufflepuff, asked.

Harry gave a slight shrug. "Dunno," he said, in a casual, noncommittal tone. "I still have to talk to Professor Dumbledore about our studies."

"What about them?" Sally-Ann Perkins asked. "I mean, you're already half a year behind everyone else. It's going to be hard for you to catch up. No offense," she added quickly.

"None taken," Harry said, sharing a look with Hermione, who smiled imperceptibly.

"Hello, Harry. It's nice to see you back in school." Luna Lovegood, who'd been talking to Ginny at the back of the crowd, waved to him. Harry saw that Ginny had already gone into one of the cars.

"Hi, Luna," he greeted her. "How are things going for you?"

"Fine," Luna replied serenely. "I'm writing a paper for Hagrid on Moon Frogs. He says he expects it to be quite an interesting read."

"I'm sure it will be," Harry said, keeping his face straight, though Ron was rolling his eyes along with several others in the crowd. "Well," he continued, speaking to everyone. "I see we only have a few minutes before the train leaves, and I'd like to have a word with my friend Linda before we take off. I'll see you all on the train."

The crowd began dispersing, and Harry drew Kara aside. "Well, here we go," he told her speaking so softly only she could hear him. "Are you okay with staying at Hogsmeade for a while?"

Kara smiled. "Of course I am. I'm sure it'll be fascinating to see how a Wizarding village works."

"Just don't tell anybody there that you're not a witch," Harry warned her once again.

"I know, Harry," she replied, patiently. "I know. Mum's the word on my status as a witch."

"I'm worried that you won't be able to follow the train to Hogwarts," Harry said, almost fretfully. "Ron and I were able to follow the rails when we drove his father's Anglia to Hogwarts, but I don't know if you'll be able to see them."

"Even if I can't," Kara reassured him. "I know enough about the geography of the area surrounding Hogwarts that I'll be able to find Hogsmeade."

Harry was about to agree when someone behind them spoke. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Harry Potter, the prodigal son, returning with his tail between his legs. Couldn't handle it at that new school, Potter?"

"Malfoy," Harry said, tonelessly, turning around to face him. He noticed that Malfoy was flanked by his perennial "friends," Crabbe and Goyle, who functioned as his bodyguards and gophers. They were both leering at Kara, who regarded the three of them impassively. "I didn't know you were missing me," he added, sarcastically.

"Don't flatter yourself, Potter," Malfoy replied. "So, who's your new girlfriend?" he sneered, noticing Kara staring at him.

"This is Linda Lee," Harry said.

"I look forward to seeing you at Hogwarts, Linda," Draco grinned, as did Crabbe and Goyle behind him. Obviously, his intentions were not benign.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Malfoy," Kara replied. "But I won't be attending Hogwarts. I'll be near Harry while he's at Hogwarts, though."

Harry winced inwardly. He wouldn't have volunteered that much information to Malfoy about her plans.

"Oh, that's interesting," Malfoy drawled. He glanced at Crabbe and Goyle with an expression of malicious glee. "The Chosen One has a follower to his holy cause."

"You're wrong about that," Kara calmly replied. "But what do you think his 'holy cause' is, Malfoy?"

One of Malfoy's eyebrows went up. "Hasn't he told you? He's supposed to be the one to kill the Dark Lord. A delusional goal at best, to be sure."

Kara shook her head slowly. "I don't know who this 'Dark Lord' is."

"He hasn't told you yet?" Malfoy appeared amused. "Well, you'll find out soon enough. Potter thinks he's the one and only person who can destroy him."

"Do you mean Voldemort?" Kara said, deadpan. All three of the Slytherins flinched.

"Don't say his name!" Malfoy snapped. "You're not worthy to speak it — I'll bet you're nothing but a filthy Mudblood yourself!"

Harry took a step forward. "Shut your mouth, Malfoy."

"Or what?" Malfoy grinned, thinking he had the upper hand now — Potter had betrayed a weak point. His hand already had his wand in it — he had been holding it behind his back. "What are you going to do about it?"

Harry put on an expression of amused disinterest. "I'll make sure you're exposed as a Death Eater," he grinned. He'd already looked through Malfoy's robes, seeing the Dark Mark on his left arm.

"Oh, in your dreams, Potter," Malfoy argued. "Even if I were one, only my parents can give permission to do a body search on me, and my father is in Azkaban — thanks to you, by the way — my mother will refuse to allow it."

"How's that special assignment from Voldemort going?" Harry asked in a penetrating tone. "Not having much luck killing Dumbledore, are you?"

Both Crabbe and Goyle looked surprised at this comment, and turned to Malfoy, who said, "Nice try, Potter, but I haven't had anything to do with the attacks on that old man."

"Sure you haven't." The sarcasm in Harry's tone was unmistakable.

"Believe what you want," Malfoy said, his voice now laced with anger. "You can't prove anything!"

Harry smiled viciously at him. "You don't know what I know, Malfoy."

"I know you don't know anything," Malfoy responded. "Otherwise you'd have gone to Dumbledore or the Ministry already." The hand holding his wand was trembling, as if he was bursting to point it at Harry and curse him. Not that he could do anything to either him or Kara; Kara could easily dodge any spell Malfoy might cast, and Harry knew enough powerful magic to negate any spell and to make Malfoy's wand an inert stick before the Slytherin could utter more than a single syllable of a curse.

"You'd better get on the train," Harry told them. "It'll be taking off in another few minutes."

Malfoy snorted, then made a show of putting away his wand. He gestured to Crabbe and Goyle, then walked away with them in tow.

"He's an interesting person," Kara observed softly.

"Oh, yeah," Harry agreed. "He's really something." He shook his head. "But don't worry about Malfoy — he's mostly all talk." Except, Harry reminded himself, he was probably the one behind the attempts on Dumbledore's life — Harry was virtually certain of it. He was even tempted to enter Malfoy's mind and extract the truth from him. But, that type of information wouldn't hold with in the Wizengamot (unless they were the ones to extract it, with Veritaserum and they couldn't use it against Malfoy without parental consent); Harry wanted to make sure Malfoy's guilt would be public record, just as his father's was.

Kara glanced at the clock that hung nearby. "It's nearly eleven o'clock, Harry," she pointed out. "You'd better take your own advice and get on the train before it leaves without you."

Harry smiled. "A few years ago that would have been a problem, but today I can easily teleport onto the Hogwarts Express."

Kara glanced around. The platform was now clear except for her and Harry. She spun around, revealing her Supergirl costume. "I'll see you there, Harry," she said to him, gently, stepping closer to him.

Harry caught his breath. Kara mouth was as close to his as it had ever been. Was she giving him a signal to kiss her? With Clea, it had been obvious what she wanted from him; with Kara, however, he wasn't sure if she was inviting him or not. "Okay…" he said, slowly, moving his lips closer to hers.

But at the last moment, he pulled back. "I'll — I'll see you there," he echoed, then nodded to her and turned away, hating his lack of resolve. Harry stepped onto the train, then looked back at Kara, who looked at him bemusedly for a moment before waving and shooting upward into the sky.

Harry's gaze followed her flight for a few moments, then he stepped into the hallway between compartments, finding the one where Ron and Hermione were sitting. Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom were also in the compartment with them.

"Hi, Neville," Harry said as he sat down opposite him. "How're things going for you?"

"Fine, Harry, thanks," Neville replied, and they shook hands. "It's good to see you back at Hogwarts!"

"Did you make sure Linda made it back home?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded, but didn't elaborate.

"She's a strange one, isn't she?" Ron spoke up. "I mean, she's about as weird as —" he stopped, his eyes glancing over Luna Lovegood, who was listening to him with polite interest, and finished, "— as some people I know."

"Do you mean like me, Ronald?" Luna asked, her penchant for speaking uncomfortable truths asserting itself once again.

"Er —" Ron looked embarrassed and sheepish.

"Oh, it's perfectly fine," Luna went on, serenely. "I know I'm a bit strange."

Ron caught Harry's eye, giving him a look that said, A bit strange? Harry barely shrugged; he didn't agree with Ron about Kara, but he had to admit that Luna was a bit — well, unique, in her outlook.

"What classes are you taking when you get back to school?" Neville suddenly asked. "I've got Herbology, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Potions."

"This is my year for O.W.L.'s," Luna said, in a dreamlike voice. "I hope I do well. I'm thinking about becoming a Healer. I've been mending some fingers and toes after Quidditch matches — they're quite interesting to do."

Harry didn't know what to say first. "I'm sure you'll do fine as a Healer, Luna," he told her. To Neville he said, "I still have to talk to Professor Dumbledore about my classes."

"What about you, Hermione?" Neville asked her. "Do you know what you're taking?"

"I'm sure I'll be taking pretty much the classes you are, Neville, plus a few others like Arithmancy and Ancient Runes," Hermione replied.

"Me, too," Ron added. "Well, except for those last two classes."

The train was beginning to pull away from the station. Whatever was going to happen at Hogwarts, Harry knew he was committed to going through with it, as far as he could take it. He just hoped Malfoy would follow through with the knowledge he now had, that Harry Potter was returning to Hogwarts.

=ooo=

Lex Luthor was smiling. It was uncommon to see anyone in Azkaban prison smile, but Lex was quite pleased with himself. He had been challenged, and he had done it, in spite of the impossibility of the task.

A small workbench had been added to the meager furnishings of his room. It had various items scattered across it — a straight razor, a roll of Spellotape, a few pieces of white, slender hair, almost so fine as to be invisible to the naked eye. And in the middle of the table rested — his masterpiece.

It had been nearly two weeks since Mr. Bad Hair Day — Lucius Malfoy, a fellow inmate with considerable influence among the guards— had given him the raw materials to create a wand. It had been Lex's boast — a ploy to ingratiate himself with a trustee — that he, a Muggle, could create a working wand.

Of course, that was pure fantasy, or so Lex had thought at the time. Now, admiring his handiwork, he had to admit he'd been short-sighted. With the prospect of incurring Malfoy's displeasure, a situation Lex knew he must avoid if he was to survive long enough to escape, he had to find a way to make a wand. And now, Malfoy would be coming by to check on his progress. Lex just wished there was a way for him to test the wand. As a non-magical, he could not perform magic, wand or not.

There was a slight shudder — Lex had felt the floor shift, almost imperceptibly. That was strange, he thought. But then, he was in a wizard's prison somewhere in the North Sea — he could hardly be expected to know what was normal for such a place!

He heard footsteps approaching his cell. The peephole opened and a voice drawled, "Mr. Luthor?"

"Lunchtime already?" Luthor asked, drily. "I hope it's not onion soup again."

"Have you completed your project, Luthor?" the voice asked, humorlessly.

"All done," Luthor answered. "I think you'll be pleased."

"Hand it through the hatch in the door," the voice commanded.

Luthor picked up his makeshift wand and slowly approached the door. He was not eager to give it up and lose any leverage he might have. He paused at the door. "Aren't you coming in?" he asked. "I'd like to see you try it out."

"Just pass it through," the voice ordered once again.

Reluctantly, Luthor put the tip of the wand into the hatch and passed it through. The wand was taken from his hand and the hatch closed. There was several moments of silence. "How's it look?" Luthor asked, with false cheerfulness.

"Step back from the door," the voice drawled. Luthor moved back to the work table, watching the door intently. There was a crack on the other side of the door and it swung open. Lucius Malfoy stood framed in the doorway, Luthor's wand in his hand.

"Crude, but serviceable," Malfoy said, in an appraising tone. He looked at Luthor with a grudging admiration. "For a Muggle, Mr. Luthor, you certainly are full of surprises."

"I find being full of surprises keeps me alive," Luthor retorted. "I take it you are satisfied with the wand, then?"

"It will do," Malfoy sniffed, in a bored tone. "It is not very responsive, but I should not expect a mere Muggle to create an Ollivander wand, I suppose."

"Are you interested in obtaining more wands?" Luthor asked.

"Perhaps," Malfoy said, non-committally. "How fast could you produce, say, a dozen wands?"

"How fast could you procure the necessary materials for me to make them?" Luthor countered. Good, good — it looked like he had some leverage now!

"Soon enough," Malfoy answered.

"And there is the matter of my fee," Luthor pressed. "You do recall I said there would be a price for my services."

"I do remember some words to that effect, the last time we talked," Malfoy mused. "However, before we discuss those details, I have someone to introduce to you."

A tall, skeletally thin man stepped through the doorway, dressed in a black robe and hood that hid his features in the dim light. "Mr. Luthor," he said, in a high, clear voice that dripped contempt.

Luthor glanced at Malfoy. The man's demeanor had changed drastically since the tall man's appearance. Before, he had been haughty and exuded confidence and authority. Now, in the presence of this man, he had become withdrawn and obsequious, bowing to the black-robed figure. "Mr. Luthor, this is the Dark Lord."

From what Luthor had learned about this man, he was a dangerous psychopath, killing people indiscriminately, at whatever whim struck him. Not that he objected to dangerous psychopaths — he was considered one himself. But it would be best, Luthor thought, to treat this person with kid gloves.

"Oh Magnificent One," Luthor said, bowing to the hooded figure. "It is an honor to meet you."

"I'm sure it is," the hooded figure said, humorlessly. He reached up, drawing back his hood to reveal a long, pale, hairless face, with red eyes and a slit for a mouth. "Lucius told me of your claim, to be capable of creating a wand even though you are only a Muggle. I must confess," he added candidly. "I did not expect you to succeed."

"Thank you, Great One," Luthor bowed again, laying it on thick. "I knew I would be able to create the wand once I had the proper materials."

Voldemort's lips quirked. "Come now, Luthor — no need to lie to me," he said, softly. "You had no idea you could create a wand until you did so."

Legilimency, Luthor thought. He'd have to guard his thoughts more carefully. "You are correct, Magnificent One, I apologize for not being honest with you."

"I expect no less from Muggles," Voldemort said, his voice nearly a sneer. "But you should know that I detest liars, and will punish you if I find you are lying to me again."

"Yes, Awesome One," Luthor bowed again.

"And you may cease your insincere posturing," Voldemort continued. "I am here to offer you a proposition."

Luthor smiled inwardly. Hopefully this would be something he could parley into a way out of this hell-hole. "I am eager to hear anything you would like to discuss with me, Great One."

"Lucius tells me you are a very intelligent, for a Muggle," Voldemort began. "We have found rumors about your career as a criminal mastermind in America over the past decade. I wish to put that intelligence to work — for me."

"It would be a great honor to work for you," Luthor said. And a chance for me to get out of here, hopefully. "What is it you wish me to do? Do you wish me to construct more wands for you?"

"Hardly," Voldemort smiled condescendingly. "I already have an accomplished wandmaker in my, shall we say, 'employ.'" He gave Luthor an appraising look. "Are you acquainted with the person known as Harry Potter?" he asked.

Luthor nodded slowly. "He and I have crossed paths in the recent past. He foiled my attempt to kill Superman in his own Fortress of Solitude a few months ago."
"Ah, Superman," Voldemort nodded. "He concerns me almost as much as Harry Potter does. Do you wish to kill him?"

"I do, Dark Lord," Luthor answered immediately. "He has been a thorn in my side for too long."

"Just as Harry Potter has been one in mine," Voldemort replied. "I have it on good authority that Harry Potter has returned to Hogwarts." He looked at Malfoy. "Your son has been an effective spy at the school, Lucius."

"Thank you, my lord," Lucius bowed deeply.

"Let us hope he is able to accomplish his mission before the end of the school year," Voldemort added, in a warning tone. "Otherwise, his punishment will be severe."

Malfoy's expression was profoundly unhappy at hearing this, Luthor saw, but he kept his head bowed, his eyes averted from Voldemort's gaze. "Draco will succeed, my lord," Malfoy said softly. "He is quite motivated to please you, I'm sure."

"No doubt," Voldemort's tone was laced with heavy irony. "Considering that your and your wife's lives are forfeit if he fails."

This guy doesn't pull any punches! Luthor thought. My kind of guy.

Voldemort turned back to Luthor. "You will accompany me back to my headquarters, Malfoy Manor, which Lucius and his family have graciously supplied to my Death Eaters and myself."

"As you wish, oh Great One," Luthor said.

"And what of me, lord?" Malfoy asked, hopefully. "Will I be allowed to return home as well?"

Voldemort shook his head once. "I need you here, Lucius, as my eyes and ears in Azkaban, until I am ready to move against the Ministry and Hogwarts." Malfoy nodded unhappily.

"Make sure the guards are properly rewarded for looking the other way while I was here," Voldemort added. "When I have need of you, however, I will return and they will feel my power." He picked up a candle from Luthor's workbench and tapped it with his wand. The candle glowed blue momentarily and Voldemort held it toward Luthor.

"Ready to begin planning the destruction of Harry Potter and Superman, Luthor?" he said. "Merely touch this and we will begin."

Luthor nodded agreeably, but kept his thoughts carefully neutral. He had some misgivings about this, but pushed them down in his mind, repressing them. This Voldemort character was not doing this from the kindness of his heart, Luthor knew; he suspected the Dark Lord and kindness had little to do with one another. While Luthor appreciated ruthlessness, he did not care to subject himself to that quality in others. He slowly reached out to touch the candle in Voldemort's hand. As he did, a whirlwind of color surrounded them, and he and the Dark Lord disappeared from his cell.