Disclaimer: Standard stuff (I don't own anything, I won't be making profit, any resemblance to previously published content is purely coincidental, JK Rowling is the coolest, etc.). If I make any legal errors regarding copyrighted material, inform me and I will correct them immediately.

Harry Potter and the Lightning Scar

Harry quickly fell into a routine in Wisconsin. Each day, he would wake up, eat breakfast with Annie, Andy, and Carla, do whatever chore or odd-job Morris asked him to do (it was usually not very difficult work, and Harry was happy to pitch in, considering Morris's invaluable tutelage), eat lunch with Annie, practice magic, eat dinner with Annie and Morris, and practice occlumency with the whole group, before "saying goodnight" to Annie. His spare time was spent developing his increasingly-intimate relationship with Annie, from which both teens derived immense satisfaction and comfort. It was by far the most pleasant circumstance in which Harry had ever found himself.

That said, he was an active teenage boy, and was therefore particularly vulnerable to the restlessness of youth. Despite how much he was enjoying his time at the Great White Bear Inn, the town of Keshena was quiet and slow, and Harry found himself missing the busy, bustling chaos into which he had immersed himself in Philadelphia. Therefore, he resolved to take another day trip—this time, not into the woods, but rather into Chicago, which had both a very large magical population (second only to New York City) and its own distinct character, which Harry found oddly intriguing. Sirius and Remus agreed, pleased that Harry would be in a relatively controlled area, rather than some dark, forsaken, demon-infested pit...again, that is. It also helped that he was going in a group—Andy, Carla, and Annie had been excited at the idea, and had agreed to accompany him. The fact that this group regularly practiced magic together (Carla was even tutoring him in potions in exchange for him teaching her the Patronus Charm) was icing on the cake; Harry could hardly get into too much trouble with three friends (two of whom were actually of-age adults) watching his back.

Thus, the group found itself portkeying into Chicago on the morning of Saturday, July 23. Their schedule was quite full—a morning comedy show at Second City, an afternoon Chicago Cubs baseball game (Andy was a rabid fan of the perennially unfortunate team, which was apparently the Chudley Cannons of baseball), a spot of shopping, and a late dinner of Chicago-style deep-dish pizza. After their whirlwind tour of the city—which had gone off almost without a hitch, save for a brief confrontation with a slightly-grabby hag—the fearsome foursome portkeyed back to the inn, held a brief occlumency practice session, and tottered off to bed, teenage stamina defeated by their action-packed day. Harry mused as he slid into bed that since nothing bad had happened on his trip, he was certainly going to collect soon, with interest; he was too much of a trouble magnet for any other outcome. With an amused snort at his own fatalism, he closed his eyes and went to sleep.

The next day, Harry had only some simple repair work to do, which took a few swishes of his wand and muttered repairing charms, and then he was suddenly left with a great deal of free time. He would have gone to hang out with Annie, except that she and Carla had gone on a shopping trip, and Andy was called in to cover a co-worker's shift. With little else to do, he went back to Morris to ask if anything else needed to be done.

"Nah, kid, we're all good for now," Morris replied. "It's a slow day today—why don't we work on some channeling magic?"

This got Harry's attention, and he readily agreed; the elemental channeling magics favored by Native Americans and some African schools of magic could be quite powerful, though they sometimes lacked the finesse of wanded spells, did not require any wand (which meant he would never truly be disarmed), and were rarely used in Europe—another substantial advantage if he could bring that knowledge back home. The group had been working on channeling every once in a while; Carla and Andy seemed to have little natural ability at channeling, for all their skill at potions and arithmancy, respectively, and while Annie was the most experienced of the four, Harry's talent far outstripped hers. Perhaps it was a side effect of his thunderbird animagus form, as he seemed to have a great affinity for air and lightning.

Morris proceeded to instruct Harry in several techniques for drawing power directly out of the environment, and then focusing it to follow his will. Occlumency was obviously a great help in this type of magic, as it allowed his conscious mind more access to the subtle interactions of the elements in nature which his subconscious would normally filter out. Harry and Morris spent several hours outside, blasting boulders with lightning, whipping up small tornadoes, calling up pillars of stone and earth, and roasting logs and stumps with fireballs. Harry, who had always learned best with this type of hands-on instruction, was rapidly approaching adult-level proficiency, and would probably reach that point by the end of the summer. This type of magic had no set incantations or wand movements (there being no wand involved at all), and depended entirely on the wizard's ability to will the elements to follow his intentions...and Harry had always possessed a great deal of willpower.

Suddenly, it was time for lunch (and a late lunch, at that), and Harry realized that he was barely tired at all. Morris explained that since most of the energy was being taken from the environment, with Harry only providing focus and direction, it was barely tiring at all—if he had attempted to perform spells of that magnitude for that long, he would have be generating the magical energy required, and he would have passed out from exhaustion hours ago. This was another reason Harry was able to channel elements so well; while he was quite powerful for his age, he was still far less powerful than an adult wizard, but this magic did not depend on a wizard's personal magic to power spells. In fact, there was no significant difference in power between Harry and Morris's spells, except that Morris's manipulations of earth were stronger, while Harry's ability to manipulate lightning and wind actually exceeded that of his instructor.

After lunch, Harry was on his own again, as Morris had some inn-related business. He considered calling Sirius and Remus, but then remembered that the full moon had been the night before last, so both men were probably still exhausted. Plus, he realized, they were probably busy trying to make up whatever ground they had lost as a result of Moony's "furry little problem"—while they had been running around in the woods howling at the moon, Wormtail had undoubtedly made even more progress. Not wanting to waste such a great chance to practice (as none of his normal distractions—however enjoyable—were present), Harry apparated back outside. He spent about four more hours throwing spells around, sometimes channeling lightning or fire with his non-wand hand while casting curses through his wand, all the while apparating all over the place. Tired and hungry, but quite pleased with the excellent results he was seeing from his constant practice, Harry went in for an early dinner, showered, and settled into the chair in his room to read and chat with Gadsden, who was currently digesting a rabbit (the outline of which was slightly visible halfway down his long body).

His perusal of DuMorne's definitive (and extremely fascinating) Fundamentals of Thaumaturgy and Evocation was interrupted by a familiar quadruple knock on his door. Gadsden, knowing the drill by now, slithered off to...wherever it was that he slithered off to...and Harry opened his door to find—as expected—Annie, who had apparently just returned from her shopping trip.

"Hey, invisible man," she said, smiling coyly.

"Hey, bigass cat," Harry replied. "What's with the coat? You must be melting in that thing."

Annie was standing in his doorway in a long black leather coat (which Harry figured was the stylish female version of a trench coat) and black heels. Her coat wasn't buttoned, but was cinched tight by the belt strap. It accentuated her body quite well, especially considering how non-revealing it was, and as his eyes made their way back up to face, Harry noticed a hungry look in her dark eyes. He suspected there was a similar look in his.

"I was planning on doing this for your birthday," she said. "But once I started thinking about it, I realized that I couldn't wait that long."

"What do you—oh," Harry started, before his throat closed off and his jaw hung down as he watched her untie her belt strap and let the coat fall to the floor. It instantly became quite clear what she had bought on her shopping trip, as she closed the door behind her and sashayed toward Harry, who could not take his eyes off her black lacy...underthings. He had seen her in—and out of, for that matter—skimpier outfits (the ceremonial clothing came to mind), but this was different, somehow. Maybe it was her walk, or the set of her jaw, or the slightly translucent nature of the lace.

"You like?" she purred, using her index finger to close Harry's jaw before kissing him. Four hands wandered for a few moments, and then it hit Harry exactly what she was talking about.

"You mean..."

"Yeah," Annie confirmed, a slight tremor in her voice betraying a hint of nervousness that was far surpassed by the pressing desire she displayed in her pose. "That."

Wormtail winced as a few drops of Nagini's venom missed the jar, knowing that his master would be displeased at the waste of even that tiny amount of the vital fluid. The potion to maintain the integrity of his master's diminutive homunculus body required absolute precision at every stage of ingredient preparation and brewing. The unicorn blood, thankfully, was not very difficult to obtain—despite their speed and agility, a barrage of Killing Curses would usually ensure at least one hit, and a single unicorn could provide enough blood for dozens of doses. The blood of a virgin, however, was more difficult to come by, and usually required an interrogation with veritaserum to be certain; even then, only seven drops could be used from any one person, which meant that each dose required a new virgin. The bodies were really beginning to pile up.

"Too bad old Bertha was always such a tramp," he muttered. "She could have done double duty."

Bertha Jorkins had been a veritable goldmine—despite her general idiocy, she was an inveterate gossip, with a particular eye for useful information. After bumping into her in Albania almost a month ago, her interrogation yielded three major pieces of information. First, that the Triwizard Tournament would be held at Hogwarts this year. Second, that Dumbledore had convinced Alastor Moody to come out of retirement and teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. Third, and most vitally, that the vaunted Bartemius Crouch was actually keeping his son—a loyal and capable Death Eater thought long dead in Azkaban—captive under the Imperious Curse. His master, in his brilliance, had come up with a plot which would see his return, greater and more terrible than he had ever been.

Of course, the interrogation had shattered Bertha's mind, due to the necessity of breaking the powerful memory charm that Crouch had placed on her to keep his secret safe. Wormtail had killed her afterward, and used her body to make his very first Inferi. After depositing her in what the other Marauders would later dub "Zombieville," he had fled Albania with his master and hired several thugs to let slip some information that would lead Sirius and Remus into the Inferi-filled trap.

"Wormtail," hissed a high, cold voice in the darkness. "Finish this dose, and then prepare to leave. And if you spill another drop of Nagini's venom, you will find yourself licking it off the floor."

"Where are we going, my lord?" Wormtail asked, shaking in fear (which scared him even more, as the shaking threatened to spill more venom).

"Why, Peter," Voldemort said, laughing mirthlessly. "We're going home."

The last day of July had all the makings of the best birthday of Harry Potter's life. He awoke just before 8 AM with the gentle rumbling of distant thunder fading from his ears and tousled dark hair beneath his chin. Harry breathed the warm, earthy scent of whatever shampoo Annie used on her hair, and listened to her contented purring (which was literally purring, as she was merging consciousnesses with a mountain lion). He didn't move, not wanting to wake her up and also not wanting to abandon the comfortable spooning position or the warm breast beneath his right hand. The previous night had been the first time she had spent the entire night in his room; he instantly concluded that waking up next to a naked woman was very high on his "best things in the world" list.

It was not to last, though. Annie, perhaps somehow sensing that Harry had awoken, began to stir, and as she did, more of Harry awoke. She noticed this immediately, turning over and facing him with a Cheshire cat grin.

"Good morning, invisible man," she whispered, straddling him. "And happy birthday, Harry."

Harry and Annie strolled down into the dining area a little after 10 AM, where several owls waited impatiently at their booth, atop a small mound of gifts. Hedwig was perched right above where Harry sat, and hooted pleasantly at him before going back to glowering at the other owls.

Morris, Andy, and Carla all came over to wish him a happy birthday, and the five chatted amiably as they ate breakfast.

"So what's on the agenda today?" Harry asked Morris.

"I dunno, kiddo, it's your birthday," Morris said with a smile.

"No, I mean what do you need me to get done today?" Harry clarified.

"Ah, did you miss the part about it being your birthday, Harry?" Andy asked. "I'm pretty sure you've got the day off."

"Really?" Harry asked Morris excitedly. After Morris nodded quickly in confirmation, Harry's serene smile broke into a wide grin. "Thanks so much, Morris!"

Luckily, Harry was distracted by a waitress refilling his plate with several more pancakes, as the other four exchanged a significant look. They had all noticed—and had brief conversations together about—details of Harry's life that painted a very troubling picture. For example, he had always been surprised that Morris gave him so little work to do, he was always a little too grateful whenever anyone did anything for him, and now expecting to work on his birthday...Annie had even heard a much-abridged tale of his summer before coming to Wisconsin in which Harry had referred to Sirius and Remus "rescuing" him from the Dursleys. Morris gave a slight shake of the head; in a previous meeting, it had been decided that there would be a frank discussion with Harry at the end of the summer.

"Um, Harry, I'm pretty sure there's a big pile of gifts that literally have your name on them," Annie pointed out impatiently, practically bouncing in her seat with anticipation. Harry chuckled and began to unwrap the packages.

Sirius and Remus had sent ahead a box containing his parents' journals and diaries. Harry quickly moved on to avoid choking up in front of the others, but he knew it was inevitable once he sat down to read them. Harry's gifts from Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid were predictable—all three knew how the Dursleys treated him, so all three sent large cakes, which Harry immediately offered to share with his companions. This, of course, drew another shared look between the other four—if his friends knew, as the comments in their cards implied, why didn't they do anything?—while Harry unwrapped his gift from Carla, a black leather bound copy of all of her potions notes, up to and including her current research. He thanked her profusely (it was, after all, extremely thoughtful), and opened Andy's gift, which showed that the duo (who were now dating quite seriously) had collaborated, as it turned out to be a brown leather bound copy of all of his runes and arithmancy notes. Andy had spent considerable time teaching Harry the basics of both subjects, as he intended to enroll in arithmancy and self-study runes, and Harry was again quite grateful.

Morris gave Harry a three-volume set of Benjamin Franklin's journals, explaining that there was a great deal of information about thunderbird animagus forms, along with chapters about Franklin's many magical and non-magical experiments and inventions. Annie was the only one who deviated from the academic theme, giving Harry a picture frame charmed to cycle between a few dozen magical photographs. She had pre-loaded it with several photographs of the five of them, as well as several showing just her and Harry.

"Thank you all so much," Harry said hoarsely, his eyes shining. "This...this is the best birthday I've ever had."

The quintet broke up for the rest of the day; Morris had to tend to the kitchen, as the cook had called out sick, Andy and Carla were going to meet Carla's parents, and Annie and Harry soon found themselves walking quietly by the bank of the Wolf River.

"I love my present, you know," Harry said, breaking the companionable silence that had stretched for nearly thirty minutes.

"I'm glad. There's a hidden feature that Carla helped me add," she said, her eyes suddenly twinkling with mischief. "You just tap the frame with your wand and say my nickname, and it'll switch to the...special pictures. I even got Carla in a few."

"Special like..."

She grinned, and began stripping off her clothes and running toward the shallow river. "See you in the water, invisible man!"

Harry looked up to the sky, silently thanking whatever gods might be listening. This really was the best birthday of his life.

Author's Note

Finally, I'm able to timeskip! I was pretty much waiting until I had addressed occlumency; I figured that once I had established that Harry was beginning his study of occlumency (which seems like a discipline that would greatly assist with the animagus transformation process I've described, so I imagine that teaching occlumency to prospective animagi would be pretty standard), I could move the plot forward. After all, this story isn't about How Harry Spent Summer Vacation; rather, it is about how Harry starts living his life on his own terms (which just so happens to begin on his summer vacation).

Volde-visions: Since I've already decided to deHorcruxify and deHallow this story, I have to address Harry's visions. In canon, Harry didn't have a vision until Frank Bryce's murder, which takes place on the night of August 22. By then, Harry will have completed the month-long animagus transformation process, as described in chapter 2 of this story, and will have spent about a month and a half practicing occlumency (taught by a teacher who isn't using the lessons solely as an opportunity to abuse him) with the aid of a particularly territorial subconscious. Bottom line: The mental connection between Harry and Voldemort will, for the time being, remain closed for business. Side note: I always thought it was strange that canon-Harry didn't get a vision of Voldemort returning to his body—it must have been a moment of great triumph for Voldemort, so by the logic followed later in canon, Harry should have gotten some Volde-vibes right then. In this story, even though Harry has not mastered occlumency yet when this occurs (per chapter 18), he has a raging, unmerged thunderbird spirit in his subconscious—even if Harry did feel any of Tom's emotions, they were lost in the tempest.

Final note: I'm going to be traveling for work early next week, so I won't be able to write for a few days. Therefore, I'm going to try to put out two more chapters this weekend. Whether that actually happens...I guess that depends on whether I attend any beer week events this weekend. We'll see.