AN: This chapter starts the first of the parts following the end of chapter 1. It is the summer before Harry's Fourth year. Originally, this chapter was going to include the start of GoF up to Halloween but it seemed like a good place to split the chapter.

I know there has been a lot of talk about FFN's (re)newed policies and the forced return of unsigned reviews. I can't say I've seen a wave of flaming reviews and to date haven't deleted one. However, it is frustrating when some reviews can't be responded to when they ask a question or raise a point.

I did have one anonymous reviewer inform me they were dropping Weres Harry because I was shipping Harry/Padma. I don't 'ship' 12-13 year-olds. When I was that age we had 'couples' start on Thursday and end by Monday. And those were the long relationships. My kids tell me that hasn't changed. Harry may date one or several people. This is not a romance story. Harry's love life will always be a background issue.

I'd like to thank the members of my Yahoo group that read through the draft and submitted their corrections and suggestions. Many thanks for helping to improve this story.

Quidditch Hooligans

22 August 1994

By the prinking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.

The famous quote was delivered in Shakespeare's Macbeth by a witch and came from ancient Roman superstitions. The Romans didn't talk about feeling the hairs on the back of their neck raise when they sensed danger. Instead they spoke of prickling sensations on their thumbs as a harbinger of danger. This stayed with many of old magical families able to trace their lineage back to before the split between the magical and mundane world.

The three old witches sat around their fire happily gossiping about events that happened long ago in low voices broken occasionally by the loud cackling laugh. An iron pot supported by a wrought iron tripod hung over the fire and an odd green stew bubbled merrily inside. None of the witches cared in the least that they perfectly reflected a Muggle's view of stereotypical witches.

As one they suddenly stopped talking. They turned to face a small clearing not too far from their spot. Hands moving to wands as the three prepared to face a great danger.

An instant later, two men and a teenage boy appeared in the spot. One man was well-groomed with a tight goatee and close-cut black hair streaked with some white at the temples. He also wore expensive looking silk robes. The boy wore similar robes but his black hair was messy and defiant. The boy's eyes were a beautiful green shade but they could sense a power there waiting to be unleashed. The second man looked a bit worn as did his robes but he seemed cheerful as he pointed the other two towards the Ministry personal registering new arrivals. It did not escape the witches that the rumpled but cheerful wizard was also a werewolf.

The boy glanced over at the three witches and smiled. It was not a hostile or condescending smile. It was amused, excited, and more than a bit mischievous.

When the three had passed out of sight the witches turned to each other.

"Should we leave sisters?" one asked.

"It will be dangerous to remain," the second commented.

"I didn't sense evil from them," the third allowed. "The boy is a keystone."

"Should we ward our site and observe then?" the first suggested.

"By the prinking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes," the second witch cackled. Seeing the odd looks from her friends she said defensively, "What? It's tradition!"

"Right," the third replied. "You two start the wards. I'll go get us some more Firewhiskey. If we are going to have to watch this, we might as well enjoy it."

-I-

Harry was having his best summer ever. Since entering the Wizarding World, Harry spent almost no time with the Dursleys. The summer after his first year had been spent primarily with Ernie's family with only a few weeks with the Dursleys. His second summer he never even saw his 'family' as he bounced from Ernie's, to Ron's, and to Neville's houses. But this summer blew them all away.

Sirius bought a townhouse in the Holland Park area of London. The old dog bought the house and then promptly seduced the attractive estate agent to 'break-in' his new place he dubbed the Marauder's Den. The former prisoner collected a sizable payment from the Ministry to settle his claims for false imprisonment as he never had a trial. He also learned he also had complete control over the Black family estate. His mother had burnt him off the family tree before his Sixth year, but his father never completed the formal act of disinheriting him. A letter left in the vault from his father said the while the Black family supported the Dark Lord it was not a bad thing to have a member on the Light side in case the Dark Lord failed so that the family continued. The elder Mr Black died shortly after his only surviving son's arrest. Sirius's mother only died after Harry had started Hogwarts but lacked the authority to block Sirius's inheritance. While Magical Britain was sure of her son's guilt, Walburga knew her disappointing eldest son would never serve the Dark Lord or turn on "that Blood Traitor Potter and his Mudblood whore". Sirius suspected the old witch actually bribed Ministry officials to ensure his lack of trial never became known. However, with Walburga's death and Sirius's exoneration, the full Black inheritance was his. Sirius swore never to live in the old Black property again He planned on clearing the house out after Harry left for school before selling it to Muggles.

Harry loved being in the middle of London. There was always something going on. The three Marauders enjoyed exploring it all. There were museums, embassies, shops, theatres and all sorts of other places to see. Harry actually got to watch a film crew in production not far from his new house. He loved it when he was pulled in as an extra during a scene. He just had to sit at a table drinking tea while the scene was filmed. The young starlet in the film was just a bit older than he was and very easy on the eyes. And Kensington Park itself was great fun for a faux-werewolf at night. In fact, Harry's only complaint was his godfather was attempting to make up for his time in Azkaban when the single ladies of Britain were 'deprived' of his company in a single summer.

Thank Merlin Remus was around to cast the Silencing Charms or Mr Jack would have run away to the nearest forest.

"Any of your friends coming to the Cup?" Remus asked Harry as they made their way across the campgrounds.

"I know Seamus is here with Ireland playing," Harry answered. "Ron's father couldn't afford tickets and Neville's grandmother didn't want to 'mingle with the common folk'. Ernie and Susan are supposed to be here though."

"Not Padma?" Sirius slyly asked with a suggestive grin. Harry ignored the grin and frowned. His relationship with his 'girlfriend' of a year was an innocent thing- mostly handholding on Hogsmeade trips with the occasional hugs or kisses on the cheek thrown in. The girls gushed at the 'romance' while his mates took the mickey out of him every chance they got.

"No, she and Parvati aren't back from her grandparents in India. Her last letter said they wouldn't be back until just before school started."

"Our tent should be just ahead," Remus announced changing the subject. "Dobby set it up last week when the sites first opened up. Harry smiled at the mention of his elf friend. The little free elf had decided 'Great Harry Potter,sir' needed a personal assistant. Dobby was turning out to be a God-send to the trio of bachelors but sometimes Harry found his devotion a bit … frightening.

Spotting their tent, Remus said, "The match doesn't start until tomorrow so we have the rest of today to enjoy ourselves, explore the merchant stalls, and …"

"And scout out the local talent," Sirius inserted with a suggestive grin. "Well, those of us that are legal or not grumpy old men anyway."

"You are not setting a good example for Harry," Remus commented with a frown.

Sirius looked offended. "I am setting a very good example for my godson! Prongs was almost as good as the great Padfoot in pulling in the pretty birds! Well, at least until Lily put a leash on his … neck." Remus just sighed in resignation over his Peter Pan-like friend.

"Don't worry, Moony," Harry said as he patted the older man on the shoulder comfortingly. "I'm sure Padfoot will be on his best behaviour."

"And what makes you think a ridiculous thing like that, prongslet?" Sirius challenged.

Harry gave a particularly wolf-like smile. "Because Mr Moony, if Mr Padfoot wakes Mr Jack up again with his antics, then Mr Jack will provide some antics of his own."

Sirius grinned in return. "Little wizard thinks he's up to a prank war with the great Padfoot? Challenge accepted. Now if you'll excuse me, I feel I must go scout the territory so to speak." The former prisoner gave a little wave and disappeared into the crowd.

"Not that I doubt your ability, Harry, but that wasn't the best thing to do."

Harry grinned at the werewolf. "He was going to do it anyway, Remus. But now he is off 'scouting' and won't come back until he finds his partner for the night. That gives me plenty of time to prepare a proper welcome for them both and he'll be too drunk and distracted to think of looking when he comes back."

The older wizard looked at the just turned 14-year-old with a surprised smile. "You sure you're not in Slytherin?"

-II-

The Quidditch World Cup was awesome!

The players on both teams really put on a show for the crowd. The Bulgarian and Irish fans rattled the stands in their excitement as their teams battled for the Cup. Ireland winning but with Bulgaria's Seeker Krum catching the Snitch had the stands rocking with excited Irish and outraged Bulgarian fans. And Harry had a great view of the whole contest.

Sirius declined Fudge's offer of the Minister's Box and got seats almost directly opposite but much lower to the ground. In fact, the seats were directly behind the Bulgarian team's box. Sirius somehow got the attention of one of the Veela cheerleaders and spent most of his time flirting with the gorgeous woman. Harry doubted anyone sitting in his area except for him would ever remember much of the match. But Harry would remember it for the brilliant flying both teams displayed. As a Seeker himself, Harry concentrated on the tactics and skills the Seekers demonstrated promising he would develop those skills for use in his own matches.

The crowd filtered out of the stands still charged up from the match. For a championship match it hadn't run that long, only two hours. So the crowd had lots of energy left. The fairgrounds area outside the stands was filled with people eating and drinking in either celebration or in mourning. The three Marauders were joined by Sirius's new friend named Kalina. Since she still wore her cheerleading outfit the Veela was attracting a lot of attention hanging on Sirius's arm.

Harry wouldn't bet on which one was enjoying the attention more.

Eventually, the crowd wore itself out. Stomachs filled with rich food and even richer beer settled many of them right to sleep wherever they happened to be at the time. The rest of the crowd that was still on their feet were swaying in time to whatever music was in their heads. Most of them seemed to be following a not-quite-straight path to their tents.

"Harry, I am going to escort the beautiful Ms Kalina to her tent," Sirius started with the careful pronunciation of the completely potted. "I shall see you and Remus at our tent shortly." Harry glanced at his former professor that had drunk almost as much as his godfather.

"Sure, Sirius. I'll just send Dobby out later to drag you back after you pass out somewhere in a puddle." This drew a giggle out of Kalina. Either she hadn't drunk as much or Veela had a natural alcohol tolerance but she was the only one around besides Harry himself that wasn't totally drunk. Harry suspected Padfoot had met his match. Some of the things the woman had been whispering into the older Marauder's ear was making Padfoot blush!

"You're cute!" she proclaimed in a sexy eastern European accent. "Don't worry. I shall take good care of this one."

"That's what I'm afraid of." More giggles.

After the two swayed off together, Harry managed to get Moony up out of his chair.

-III-

Getting an inebriated werewolf through crowds of equally drunken revellers was not any easy task for a fourteen year-old – even one that was a werewolf-animagus.

The tent city that had grown around the Quidditch stadium was divided into 'villages'. One village was designated for Irish guests while another was set aside for the Bulgarian guests. There was also a village for families and another for the VIP's (i.e. high-society Purebloods and foreign dignitaries). Sirius refused to be with the 'stodgy matrons' or the 'poncy gits'. Their tent was dead in the centre of the 'general public' village. In general it was younger magicals without children and the working class of the magical world. The place was a madhouse of drunken revellers, screams, and laughter.

Harry got Remus squared away on his bed. The older wizard was out for the night. Harry wandered outside the tent and sat in a camp chair Dobby had provided for the Marauders. The party seemed to be winding down for the night. The noise level was way down as people started wandering off for bed; their own or someone else's. Harry was enjoying the anonymity of the crowd. No one realized the teen sitting outside the tent nursing a butterbeer was THE Harry Potter. They were too caught up in their own excitement and parties to pay that much attention to Harry.

There were only a dozen or so people in sight when it started. At first it was just an increase in the noise coming from another part of the campground. It took Harry several minutes to realize there was something about these screams.

These weren't the screams of laughter and parties he'd been hearing all night. These were screams of terror.

The revellers around Harry, the more sober ones at least, also recognized there was a problem. A few tried to Apparate away but found there were wards in place. This caused the first signs of panic in the area. Some tried to grab their drunken mates to flee on foot. Others tried to find hiding places inside the tents. One grizzled old wizard was physically throwing his friends into his tent two sites down and across the 'street'. He then stepped inside, gave Harry a small nod, and closed the tent flap. No sooner had the flap been zipped and the whole tent disappeared to be replaced by an old stump surrounded by some largish rocks.

Harry didn't have time to think about the old wizard's actions. Through the opening left by the disappeared tent, Harry saw flashes of light just a few rows over. Twenty seconds later a mob of screaming, panicked people came running down the village 'street'. Blinded by their panic and probable intoxication, the witches and wizards never even thought of defending themselves with their own wands. The only thought to get through their alcoholic haze was to run away.

Harry froze for a moment. Sirius was still out there and Remus was passed out in the tent. As an underage wizard Harry wasn't supposed to even be carrying his wand over the summer. Sirius said that was stupid and to keep it on him at all times. But only use it in an absolute emergency. That emergency was getting closer but it wasn't here yet.

Harry opened the tent door and left it looking like someone had run out in a panic. He knocked over the camp chairs and small table to add to the image. Finally, he placed his father's Cloak over the sleeping form of Remus Lupin.

Leaving the tent, Harry climbed up the small oak tree next to the tent. Dobby picked this site as the tree provided some shade to the tent. Now its leaves could serve a different purpose. While it lacked mobility options, it gave him good visibility and not a likely target for curses. It was also the best he could come up with in the time he had.

In any case, he didn't have to wait long before trouble arrived.

The tent across the street erupted in fire as three figures dressed in black robes with white masks approached. Several people ran screaming from the tent only to be met with curses and hexes. Then Harry saw the same green light he'd seen the year before in the memories brought out by the dementors.

The Death Eaters stopped in front of the tent.

"It looks like to Blood-traitor coward and the Potter brat ran but check inside," one man called out. "Kill anyone you find, then burn it down." They probably wouldn't find Remus under the Cloak but the fire certainly would.

One of the wizards entered the tent while the other two stood outside keeping watch and cursing any targets that presented themselves. Screams and explosions from other parts of the campground told Harry theses three weren't alone and help wouldn't be coming soon.

A fourteen year-old wizard dropped out of the tree and a werewolf landed in his place.

Harry took the first Death Eater out on his blind side. The werewolf's wickedly sharp claws easily sliced through cloth and skin to the soft flesh beneath. The man had no time to scream before the world went dark.

Something warned the second Death Eater; an instinct maybe from the last way. But he turned to see the large, furred form destroy his partner with a single swipe in passing. In an instant the man turned his wand, casting a fast, silent offensive curse. The creature moved through the curse without pause. The next second found the Death Eater on the ground vainly trying to block the blood from escaping the gaping wound on his neck.

The Beast never slowed as it moved into the tent. The final Death Eater was in Sirius's room trying to open a trunk. He never heard the Beast enter the room. He had only a moment to think when the large hands grabbed him by the chin and the back of the head. The moment ended when he felt his head forced to turn and a sudden snap.

The squad of Aurors descended on the village with their wands drawn and on high alert. The Death Eaters apparated away when the Dark Mark appeared but they still needed to secure the campgrounds by doing an in-depth search. Eye witnesses placed at least two Death Eaters in the area and possibly more.

The discovery of three bodies in Death Eater robes lying on the ground outside a large ornate tent came as a large shock.

"Check them out," the squad leader ordered one member. "Weller, Green, on guard. Bender, Adams, check the tent."

"Snapped neck," the squad medic announced from the first body. He turned to look at the body immediately next to it. "This one has what looks like a werewolf slash to his neck but the full moon isn't for another ten days yet."

"And the third?"

The medic cast a quick charm. He looked shocked at the results. "He's still alive! Major trauma to the abdomen but some kind of nerve toxin knocked him out. Probably slowed his heart too which is why the bastard is still alive."

"And I want to keep him that way so he can answer questions," the squad leader ordered. The medic grunted before slapping a portkey on the survivor and tapping it with his wand. In a blink the suspect was transported to St Mungos.

"Boss, we have someone in here!" Adams yelled out from the tent.

The squad leader walked quickly into the tent. His two Aurors were standing outside a closed door on either side of the wall.

"What have we got here?" he ordered.

"Juvenile male. Door's barricaded and he's refusing to open it. Told him I was an Auror and offered to show him my badge." The Auror grinned a bit before adding in amusement, "He said that it and a few knuts would get me a cup of tea. Won't open until someone he trusts comes."

"Moody would love this one," Bender snickered.

The squad leader moved over to the door. "Hello in the room."

"Hello outside the room," a voice snarked back.

"I am Senior Auror Kinsley Shacklebolt. May I ask who you are?"

"Sure." Kingsley waited several moments before he realized no further reply was coming.

"Who are you?"

"Sorry, not going to tell you, but feel free to ask again." Kingsley ignored the amused snickers from his team members.

"We don't have time for this," Kingsley announced. "We have a situation here and you are required to come out now. We have two dead bodies in Death Eater robes and a third Portkeyed straight to St Mungos. I have questions that need to be answered."

"And I am perfectly capable of answering them through the door."

Kinglsey supressed a groan of frustration. "I am an officer of the Ministry. Would you accept my word that you will be safe coming out?"

"No good. I've known too many Ministry officials," the boy replied, the amusement evident in his tone.

Kingsley rolled his eyes at the cheeky answer. He was about to reply when the team medic came in and whispered into his ear. "Are you sure?" he asked in a quiet voice. The Auror simply nodded his face set in a grim line. "Okay, we need to know what happened here."

Kinglesy was turning to the locked door again to try to get the brat on the other side to open up when the notorious Sirius Black ran into the tent. "Harry?!" he yelled out. "Remus?!"

"Mr Black? Is this your tent?" Kingsley asked. The Senior Auror quickly realized that if this was Black's tent then the 'brat' on the other side of the wall was likely Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. Great.

"Yes, it is. Where's Harry and Remus?" the former fugitive demanded. Kingsley suddenly realized exactly who was the behind the barricaded door.

The Auror pointed at the door. "I believe Mr Potter is in there."

"Sirius, it that you?" Harry yelled out.

"Are you okay, Pronglet?" Sirius demanded. "Where's Moony?"

The door opened to reveal a well-built teenaged boy with the famous Potter hair and dazzling green eyes. Kingsley hadn't attended Hogwarts so he never knew the Marauders in school. He had arrived in England not long after the You-Know-Who's fall and had seen many pictures of the Boy-Who-Lived's parents.

"Moony is fine," the boy assured his guardian. "He slept through the whole thing."

The Head of the Black family made a short, barking laugh. "I hope you got pictures."

"I was a bit busy for that, Padfoot."

Kingsley took the chance to interrupt. "And what did happen here, Mr Potter?"

The boy looked over to the Auror. "Three idiot Death Eaters decided to run around blowing stuff up. I couldn't move Remus so I forted up in here. I overheard them talking about looking for Sirius and me. I thought I was going to have to fight them magically no matter what the Underage Decree says. Then something got them first. I didn't see what it was. They were either dead or unconscious so I decided to sit tight and wait for Sirius to show up."

"That was probably wise, Mr Potter," Kingsley granted. He made a small motion to one of his men to check out the other room. The man returned a moment later to confirm a passed out wizard in an otherwise normal room.

"May I check your wand to verify you did not cast anything today?" Kingsley asked. Harry shared a glance with Sirius before handing over his wand. The Auror cast a spell on the wand. A stream of symbols started to emit from the tip.

"A couple advanced locking charms, a few flame retardant spells, and a Silencing Charm," he interpreted as Bender recorded the results. "Nothing else in the last twenty-four hours. Those are reasonable for the situation. Why the Silencing Charm though?"

The boy grinned. "Remus started to snore like a buzzsaw."

"And you wanted to prevent your attackers from finding you," Kingsley finished.

The grin widened. "That and it stopped me from smothering him with a pillow from all the noise." The assembled Aurors chuckled.

"Auror Hamilton informed me that the survivor had a diluted form of basilisk venom in his blood," the Senior Auror said to Harry. "Any ideas how it got there?" The boy looked surprised at that information. Kingsley wondered if that was the first open reaction he'd seen.

"Nothing that makes any sense," the boy answered. "I didn't really check the bodies but it didn't look like a snake could do that."

Kingsley grunted agreement. "Very well. We may have other questions later, Mr Potter." He turned to his squad. "Spread out and look for any witnesses or victims needing help. Stay with your partners. Stay alert." Four of the Aurors left while Hamilton walked over to the tent door to wait for his partner.

"Can I ask what happened to everyone else?" Harry asked. The Senior Auror grimaced.

"Apparently several people thought it would be funny to dress up in Death Eater garb and cause a riot. The campground owner and his family were abused and some tents were burnt down. They all Apparated away when someone cast the Dark Mark. Barty Crouch's elf was found unconscious nearby along with Draco Malfoy's wand. Young Mr Malfoy's wand was used to cast the spell."

"Did Malfoy cast the spell?" Harry asked curiously. He wouldn't put it past the pretentious git.

Kingsley frowned. "No, he was actually with his mother and Madam Fudge at the time the riot started. They took Madam Fudge's emergency Portkey to the Ministry before the spell was cast; an oath-bound alibi. Crouch gave his elf clothes for being involved somehow."

"Crouch was always one to punish before getting all the facts," Sirius sneered. Kingsley had the grace to look embarrassed.

"Yes, well, I apologize for that. Now, if you will excuse me we must continue our investigation."

The Senior Auror started to leave the tent with his partner. He had just reached the tent opening when he stopped and turned back to Harry. "Oh and by the way, Mr Potter? Just one more question."

"What?"

"Do you by any chance have six fingers on your right hand?" The black Auror threw Harry a cheeky grin of his own and walked out before Harry could respond.

Harry was stunned for a moment before throwing his arms up over his head and cheering, "Ernie and I are not alone!"

Sirius rolled his eyes at his godson's bizarre antics. While he waited for Harry to settle down a bit he cast a privacy charm to seal the tent from outside observation

"So, the in Merlin's name happened here, pup?"

Harry stopped laughing and smiled at the elder Marauder before raising an eyebrow and asked, "And how did you sober up so fast?"

"Kalina had a Sobering Potion in her tent," came the answer. "Now what happened?"

Harry told the older Marauder everything that had happened up to the point the Aurors arrived including the Beast's appearance and his brief fight with the Death Eaters.

"What was that bit about the basilisk venom?" Sirius asked.

Harry frowned as he thought about it. "Well, I doubt that Sasha or another basilisk just happened to slither by after I put the Death Eaters down. The only thing I could think of it the Beast's claws are now poisonous to some degree. You know I don't kill the animals I play 'tag' with." Sirius shared Harry's grin as they both thought of that night at Hogwarts where the Beast played tag with the large black dog he found wandering the grounds.

"Well, thank Merlin for that," Padfoot allowed. "Er, is there a chance the survivor saw the Beast?"

"I doubt it," Harry answered with a headshake. "It was probably the first one I took down and I got him from behind. He might have seen something before he passed out. I know he was unconscious when I brought out the one that came into the tent." Sirius grimaced at hearing his godson so casually talk about killing or almost killing three wizards. Harry was usually a happy, friendly, and thoughtful kid, but the wolf definitely had an impact on him. When it came to protecting his 'pack' he had a streak of brutal practicality that saw killing the enemies of the pack as being a sensible, logical decision. Wolves never killed for pleasure. They killed for food and in defence. As Harry said, the Beast never killed the animals he played tag with because he didn't need them as prey to survive.

Sirius set his concerns aside. For now he needed to get Harry and the still-unconscious Remus back to the Marauder's Den and safe.

"Okay, pup. Let's get Moony and get out of here."

-IV-

The next morning's Daily Prophet carried a screaming (literally) headline announcing the appearance of hooligans dressed as Death Eaters at the Quidditch World Cup. Minister for Magic Fudge was spinning the story as simply several drunken revellers playing a prank while under the influence of recreational potions and alcohol. He also promised to see to the full prosecution of the party responsible for the over-reaction that resulted in the death of two wizards and the serious injury of another. The dead were identified as Augustus Avery, age 68, and Barnabas Crabbe, age 37. Walter Jugson, age 39 was identified as the survivor. Jugson was being held at St Mungos in the security ward. While the Prophet did mention that all three men had been suspected of being Death Eaters or holding sympathies during the war, all of them had been cleared or found to have been under the Imperious Curse. An 'unnamed source' within the DMLE suggested that the attack may have been a misguided attempt at revenge for activities the three men had been cleared.

The fact the men were found wearing Death Eater robes and that over a hundred witnesses had seen others dressed in similar fashion did not seem to matter to the Ministry's official position. The Prophet's editorial floated the theory the other 'Death Eaters' had been the ones responsible for the assault and murder of the three wizards. The brutality of their deaths along with the presence of snake venom in their wounds pointed to- they claimed- the involvement of 'real' Death Eaters on the 'innocent' men.

Reading the articles, Harry wondered, "Do the editors sniff their ink or something? How could anyone believe this shite?" Sirius snickered at the acerbic comment. Remus however leaned back in his chair and considered Harry for a moment.

"Harry, have you ever really thought about your own story?" Remus asked. Harry lowered the paper to look at his former professor in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

Remus slipped easily into his professor mode. "With magic, almost anything is possible. It is the thing Muggleborn – and Muggle-raised – have the hardest thing adjusting to in our world. Muggles live in a scientific world of cause and effect. To an extent wand magic is the same way although focus, emotion and the caster's power has some impact on the effect different wizards can have with the same spell.

"Potions, runes, wards, and rituals increasingly move away from that 'rational' thought process. Advanced potions can be impacted by the time of the month, the sex of the potion maker, and a thousand other factors. Severus Snape is a Potions Master not because he is great at following a recipe, but because he has an instinctive grasp of the minute adjustments that have to be made to get just the result he wants."

The former professor paused and added, "Ms Granger drives Severus crazy because she seems to have that instinctive grasp to be a Potions Mistress but is too tied to her rational thought process to just let the magic work. He may not like her but he hates to see potions potential so restricted." Harry was stunned at the little aside.

"Anyway, the older, more powerful the magic is, the less it conforms with rational thought. Think Harry. What if they printed the true story of your life? A 15-month old child survives an unsurvivable curse that causes a Dark Lord to be physically destroyed. That child later becomes werewolf/animagus hybrid that manages to stand off a 1,000 year-old basilisk, survive its bite, and save a young witch, all the while running about Hogwarts and playing tag with stray mutts. Would you believe that story?" Remus smiled ironically. "In some ways, you could say the wilder, more unlikely the story, the more likely it is to be true because of magic."

Harry felt a bit chagrined at Remus's comments. In truth he hoped the story was so out there that no one would believe it if something leaked.

"He's right, Harry," Sirius agreed. "After the attack on your parents, the whole wizarding world exploded into one big party. Dumbledore and the Ministry reported his death and the party started. No one hesitated to believe it was true, not even the Death Eaters. Less than three hours after the attack Lucius was at the Ministry presenting his Imperious defence. There was no body, just his robe and wand, and Dumbledore's word."

Remus rubbed his chin in thought. "It is also true that the truly powerful wizards and witches have been a bit off. The deeper magics are more an Art, not a Science. That often means they have a view of things that is off kilter from the rest of us."

"So you are saying the barmier the wizard the more powerful?" Harry asked with a grin.

"Oh, don't worry, pup," Sirius said while patting Harry on the arm. "You are definitely the most powerful 14 year-old I've ever seen." Then, with a grin, he walked out of the room.

"Thanks, Padfoot. Wait a second! Padfoot, get back here! Padfoot!"