Author's Foreword

This will be an AU tale using the Harry Potter characters, but not strictly timeline-compliant, canon-compliant, or possibly even fanon-compliant. In fact, compliance is probably not even close to the best word to use. To be frank, it's a story going how I want to see 'a Harry Potter story' going. My hopes are that it will entertain you, my dear reader, as much as it entertains me.

In this story, HP and the gang are not a specified age or at a particular year level. Let's set the bar at 'a year or so above age of consent' and go from there. Some characters might just be out of character as book and movie lovers (including me) know them, but that's part of the ride. Buckle up.

Certain fanfiction tropes will possibly be used. Which? Don't know. Part of the journey may be the end, but in this case it's the discovery that make up the journey.

Certain ships will very possibly be used. Fair warning, I'm an equal-opportunity fan of Harmony fics and Dramione fics. And no, not together. That would be for a niche audience. Not to mention a little confusing to write.

Certain fun will be had, certain problems will be also be had. Same for laughter and tears.

Certain characters will be alive that in-canon are dead and possibly vice-versa.

Things will happen. One last piece of advice for those embarking on this journey with me – and especially for poor Harry for what's about to come. What advice is that, you say? It's very simple, you know.

Constant vigilance.

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Chapter One

Harry Potter was calm.

Well, as calm as his life could be at any given moment. For now there were no mad wizards trying to kill him, rogue bludgers trying to flatten him, or fangirls trying to ensnare him. All he had to worry about right at this very moment was eating his breakfast and making sure he didn't get any jam on his robes before class. There wasn't any offending blobs on him anywhere, so he seemed to be doing pretty well so far. The bacon was good and it went well with the scrambled eggs and toast. He decided that he would get more, since he wasn't expecting to rush before classes began for the day.

The ceiling of the Great Hall was stormy, with lightning flashing from edge to edge. He could hear the rumbles from outside from his seat. That meant the weather outside was particularly nasty, given that the Great Hall had other rooms stuffed around it and helped to dampen outside noise. It was a good thing that today wasn't a practice day for Quidditch. A few people didn't mind flying around in lightning, but he thought it was better postponed. Professor Flitwick was gazing at the ceiling too. There was a slight frown on his face and Harry wondered what was on the half-goblin's mind. He didn't have much company at the table yet but that would change soon enough. Professor McGonagall was headed for her seat near the middle.

There was a thump on the table next to him and he turned his head to see his best friend Ron stumble into something resembling a seated position. Harry wasn't too sure he was even awake, but if the workings of his nostrils had anything to do with it then part of him was aware of his surroundings. Neville walked in, a huge yawn cracking his jaw. He chose a seat away from the redheaded boy and sat there blearily. It usually took a while for him to wake up.

By habit, Harry was an early riser. Years of living with the Dursleys and their morning routines had introduced and reinforced that habit. Of course now he didn't need to be up that early but it was something that he couldn't easily break. Of the other boys in his dorm, he was almost always the first one to be awake, showered and dressed. By the time he left the dorm to start his day, the others would still be asleep. This allowed him to be at the tables for breakfast first.

It was often amusing to see the other straggle in, whether student or professor. The Ravenclaws usually didn't show up quite this early, but occasionally one or two showed up. A little blonde with an odd necklace and no shoes smiled and waved at Harry, which he returned.

The Hufflepuffs were already there, for the most part. They seemed ready to get their day started, since a great deal of that House rose early. It seemed to the others that the Puffs were a bit odd for that reason, but the other Houses shook their heads and went about their business.

Only a quarter or so of the Slytherins were there. He could see that they were mostly bunched up in groups and whispering to each other about whatever they were plotting for the day. Some of their number, like the Greengrass sisters, sat apart haughtily and took no part but monitored what was happening.

Harry watched with amusement as the other boy piled his plate high with various selections and tucked in. Ron was oblivious to everything but what was on his plate for a bit and once he'd woken up a little, Harry asked him about the upcoming Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Even half-asleep and eating, Ron had an opinion about it. That opinion was voiced in between gigantic bites of everything on the plate trembling before him. Harry started counting down in his head and sure enough, at 'one' he heard a familiar voice at his other side.

"Honestly, Ronald. Do you even stop to take a breath every so often or do you just inhale food?"

There wasn't an answer to that from the redhead. Well, not that he could determine anyway and he wasn't going to say anything. No one else watching was quite sure if Ron was even aware that he was awake. It did seem to everyone that it was some kind of muscle memory at work. Harry shot a look at the bushy-haired young woman. She saw the look and raised a grimace, but with the speculation going on no one decided to call just yet.

There was a gurgle of draining pumpkin juice to their left and the girl to the other side of Ron Weasley started reconsidering her decision to sit there that morning. It seemed that whoever sat there did so depending on what day it was. One of the first things Gryffindor House during the youngest Weasley boy's first year was to institute a schedule of people assigned (some said doomed) to sit there. As the tables were only so large, even with magic, the limits in size meant that only so many people could be seated there. Lately the schedule was taking a beating in favor of 'first come, first served.' Not first to sit beside Ron, but first to sit away from him. Some of the sixth and seventh-year girls went around touting that seat as good for appetite suppressant purposes. Anyone who wondered about that only needed a single meal to understand the advertising. Everyone who sat there either picked at their food or just didn't eat. Of course, Ron didn't notice since food was more important.

"Hey, Harry! How can you stand to sit on the other side of him eating like that?"

This question came up every so often. This time it was from a third-year who glanced at her own plate, unsure if she really needed to eat breakfast. There were several hidden grins at her disgusted look. Oh, the innocence of youth.

"I'm used to it," Harry shrugged. "Compared to some of the other things I've been through, this is nothing. Well, that and sometimes I forget to take out the earplugs. His bed is next to mine in the dorm."

The green eyes didn't even look up at the now-familiar question. There was a snort down the table from the twins.

"That's the truth. Ronniekins could drown out anything." Fred winked at his brother. "We would have to camp out in the woods behind the Burrow and still hear him snoring at night. We never had to worry about wild animals approaching us."

"Well, of course, my less handsome brother. We had to every so often. Otherwise we couldn't sleep. That and have somewhere to hide certain things with monetary potential."

"Shush, my less intelligent brother. No need to let out the secret of our success. We'll let our uglier brother here distract from our more comely faces."

"Of course, of course."

The subject of this short aside ignored everything said. The twins grinned, knowing that this would be the best time to prank Ron but held off doing it. They'd found themselves under scrutiny from Professor McGonagall over the last few days and were laying low. She was very unamused at the appearances of skunks that lined up and sang show tunes off-key with dancing and changed lyrics. They'd been singing and dancing for the last two days.

Harry smirked at the twins' repartee. He'd gotten used to that as well and privately admitted that it was very entertaining – so long as he wasn't exhausted. He pondered changing Ron's hair color himself and saying nothing, but since he was seated too close to the twins it wasn't a good idea. Professor McGonagall was still watching them, after all. Maybe another morning. Maybe he would get Ginny to help him. She was always up for a good prank, especially when Ron was getting on her nerves like he'd been for the last week or so.

There was something else bothering him about this morning, but he didn't know what it was. For some reason he thought he heard someone whispering in parseltongue. That was a disquieting thought, even though the basilisk had been dead for years. As far as he knew and felt, there wasn't any mind connections being forged by Voldemort, so that couldn't be it either. His scar was quiet.

What was it?

Hermione sat heavily and groaned. He looked over at her. It sounded like she was in pain.

"Hermione, are you okay?"

She nodded her head. The curtain of bushy hair that she'd been growing out undulated gently, but he couldn't see her face.

"Something doesn't feel right, Harry."

"You, too? I've been trying to figure it out for the last few minutes."

Next to him, Ron continued with his breakfast. That was business as usual, so to speak, so that wasn't it. He glanced around, trying to find whatever was out of the ordinary to try to explain his growing unease. Over the years, he'd developed a sense of foreboding but it was never specific. He usually found out what was wrong when it happened to him.

"It feels like the magic in the castle is being stirred around like spaghetti sauce," Hermione muttered uneasily.

He thought about her analogy. It make sense.

"So long as we're not getting hit by the wooden spoon." She nodded at his statement.

Harry gazed up at the staff table. Professor Flitwick seemed to notice it as well, and he was also looking around to try to discern what was seemingly bothering him as well. The short Professor looked over to the staff entrance to see the Headmaster arrive. He was wearing bright yellow robes with blue and red shooting stars, trimmed in a glossy black and a matching hat. The red stars seemed to be moving slowly. Several people blinked hard with suddenly wet eyes when they saw it. Somebody mumbled something about squashed canaries with jam.

Dumbledore ignored the reactions prompted by his sartorial choices and focused on Flitwick.

"Good morning, Filius. It seems to be stormy outside and in, doesn't it?"

"Yes, Headmaster, and I don't know why. Do you?" Professor Flitwick didn't mention the shooting stars. After all the years at Hogwarts, he was mostly inured to the often flamboyant robes.

"No, no I don't, and in my experience it could be either good or bad. Let's hope for good."

Dumbledore's brow furrowed in suspicion as he looked around the area around the Gryffindor table. It seemed that there was something going on in his mind, as though old memories were being dusted off and brought up for display.

A wind picked up in the Great Hall. It slightly corresponded to the fury depicted on the ceiling, but where it came from nobody could tell. Harry started to get a little more uneasy about it. He heard a gasp from Hermione. It didn't sound good. There was thunder now, which reverberated from the stone walls.

The Great Hall was getting brighter, as though the wall mounted torches were putting out more light for some reason. He heard Dumbledore cast something but he didn't know what it was. With the increased lighting came some pain and he glanced at Hermione's pinched expression. He thought that whatever he was feeling, she had to be as well.

Harry thought his body was being pulled in two directions at once and squeezed. It wasn't like the discomfort of Apparition. He was at least used to that. This was different. He didn't know what it was or what was happening, but he knew it was not a good thing. Harry could hear faint echoes of chanting but from where he didn't know.

He reached out to put his hand on Hermione's shoulder and she turned to look at him. The moment his eyes met hers, there was a blinding flash of gleaming blue light. He heard several screams at the same time from somewhere in the room. Harry felt himself lifted from his seat, a sharp pain all over his body, and then darkness.