Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K Rowling.

Chapter 23: Alone

The train was flying.

I should hardly be amazed by the grandeur of the wizarding world. But I couldn't quite contain my astonishment when the train started to levitate and fly. I saw the British isle plan out beneath me with a swirl of colour. After some time of staring outside with only my thoughts for company, I heard a faint knock on the compartment door.

"Come in," I said gently, trying not to think about how much I sounded like Dumbledore.

In the door stood Montague in his large, towering form. He had to tilt his head a little to enter the compartment. Montague cleared his throat.

"We're uhhh…playing a game of exploding snap, want to join?" Montague looked as if he would rather be anywhere than in here, it wasn't unreasonable to assume that he had just lost a game of exploding snap.

"No, I'm fine," I said evenly.

He remained in the door frame for a few awkward moments before he remembered himself and shut it firmly behind him. I let out a long sigh.

There wasn't anything but water outside now, it struck me that we were probably soon off British soil. It made me feel...odd, I'd never left Britain before; who knew how many countries I'd be in after today?

I lost myself in thought as I watched the blue fade away into green and yellow. Specks of black and lines of grey spread through the beautiful scenery like a pervasive rot. "Muggles," I mused to myself. My mind drifted like a sailboat without wind, stuck in an endless sea. Having nothing but your own thoughts for company was terrifying. Each stream of thought was always shrouded in solemnity and regret.

I slammed the shutters down with an obtrusive 'Bang'. The maze of your mind was one you could easily get lost in; I better not. Not today. The day I landed in China, the day of freedom from the confines of the castle. It didn't feel anything like I thought liberation would though; I had expected to be flying among the clouds of serenity. To my dismay, I was glued to the sombre ground.

"It's ironic," I muttered to myself. "Here I am hundreds of metres in the air complaining about being stuck on the ground."

No one answered, not that I expected anyone to. I breathed out a long sigh. I was always alone, why did I feel like this now? I opened the shutters again, the lights hit me like a ram in the eyes. Through the squinting, I could make out a thin, blue line curling around like a mighty basilisk.

I didn't know how to feel where I sat in the clouds. It just felt so empty, so purposeless. I wanted to do something. I wanted to go forwards somehow, but had no way to do that.

I shook my head furiously to wipe those thoughts from my head. Every time I removed them, they returned like a bunch of greedy weeds. The countryside of Europe's mainland was breezing past me in a pretty palette of paint. None of it registered to my tired eyes, it was like eating treacle tart but not having a feeling of taste.

The bite of loneliness only stings when it forces its way to your neck. It's like a vampire moving in, silently and without notice. When it's there, it's already too late.

My thoughts wandered to my friends at Hogwarts. I could picture them basking in the dull September sun, essays lined up, frowns adorning their features.

Perhaps I should join Montague and the others for a game? Simply to heal this vicious bite I'd received.

"No!" I said forcedly to the seat in front of me.

No response.

I jerked a silvery bundle from my trunk and threw it against the seat in front of me like it had personally offended me. My glare wanted the seat to turn into smothering ashes. It didn't.

Joining the other competitors was a waste, I decided simply. I tugged a tired book from the bag and opened its silent pages.

A plaster would have to make due.

-()-

I didn't have much better to do than stare out the window down on the yellow plains below. Therefore I decided to pick the silver bag up from the floor and weigh it in my arms.

I sent a concerned glance at the door.

A couple of flicks of my wand later and I was all but sure that no one would be able to enter before I could safely store the book in the bag.

I looked at the book intently and turned it over. Calling it ancient would be an understatement, it looked like it would fall apart at any moment. It felt like…it felt like it wouldn't fall apart at any moment.

That wasn't the only thing it felt either, it felt intoxicating. The worn cover with the purple letters engraved on it was so smooth and fragile, yet they held a firmness and stability that I would never have guessed.

Holding it filled me with conflict, one part of me wanted to put it away. As far away as possible. The part that won my inner battle wanted to use it desperately.

So that is what I did. I opened the book and was met with nothing but blank pages. Not a single dot of ink anywhere. Every single page was in pristine condition. Not a trace of any wear or tear.

I frowned and looked in the bag again. There was one of the quills which never ran out of ink inside. My eyes were glued to it for many moments before I harshly picked it up.

I put the quill to the page but paused.

The little dot of ink grew larger and larger as I was locked in contemplation.

"Hello?" I wrote with long, uncomfortable strokes.

The black ink disappeared off the page. I stared at the spot where the letters had been mere moments ago and swallowed.

"Hello Harry," appeared on the page in my master's neat handwriting. Unsurprisingly in purple ink.

I ran a hand through my hair and took a deep breath. This couldn't be, right? There was no way that the book I was currently holding in my hands was what I thought it was. Please, don't let it be so.

A shiver ran up my spine. The hairs on my arms stood on end. Even though I wore a jumper and it was only late September, I felt myself freezing.

What if the reason my master didn't want anyone to find the book wasn't because she was afraid people would recognise her, but they would recognise a horcrux?

A sentence was fading into existence on the page and I stared at it with open eyes. "You are indeed, correct."

I threw the book on the seat in front of me and stared at it.

Could she read my thoughts now?

It felt like I was falling. Could she possess me the way Riddle had Ginny? I must have given her more of myself than Ginny ever could. I pointed my wand at it but couldn't muster the strength to fire a spell. Any spell.

It felt like I would explode like a balloon at any moment. She could drain me of my power and make that power her own any second, and I was powerless to stop it.

Why hadn't she done so yet though?

There was really only one way to find out. I sent a last glance at the door again and picked the book up.

"Explain," I wrote.

The book began glowing and I realised what I had to do. I didn't like it but I had no choice here. I leaned into the light shining from the pages of the book and felt myself get submerged in the light.

When the light disappeared, I was back in my master's room. I looked around, it felt exactly as it always did. Nothing was different. Everything from the purple fire to the woman sitting with her hands folded in front of me.

My master was looking at me with solemnity. I met her eyes with a fierce look.

"This is what I think it is, isn't it?"

She inclined her head once. "Yes, it is."

I shook my head in disgust. "How could you do something like this?"

Rowena arched an eyebrow. "Didn't I already tell you? I believe I told you that I saved myself to preserve all the knowledge I held. That was no lie."

"You told me yourself that creating a horcrux was a despicable thing, that murdering was the most merciful part of the entire process!" I said heatedly.

She nodded. "I did," she conceded. "But I also told you that I was no different from Voldemort." She smiled thinly. "Just because you didn't realise the extent of it…" Rowena trailed off.

I scoffed. "You promised to be truthful if I became your apprentice!" I shouted and stood up.

"Haven't I been?" she asked. "I have never claimed that I haven't had a horcrux, neither have you asked me."

"You've been purposefully deceiving," I said with narrowed eyes.

She chuckled darkly. "Astute observation. It is something you would benefit to learn as well."

"What now?" I asked with disgust pouring out in heaves.

Rowena fixed me with a stern look. "Has anything changed?"

I glared at her. "Everything has changed."

My master sighed. "Look, Harry, doing this isn't something I'm proud of, okay?" She let out a long breath. "I don't…I don't regret it," she whispered. "This has cost me more than you could ever know." The founder smiled sadly. "This is as much of a curse as a gift. All of this is the punishment for all the wrong I did during my lifetime."

"Yes, I'm sure eternal life is a horrible curse," I said scathingly. "You must be devastated."

Rowena closed her eyes for a couple of long moments. "I meant what I said Harry, nothing has changed, not for me."

My master smiled at me. Her purple eyes reflected the purple flames back at me. I didn't know how to react. This wasn't some small curl of the lips. This wasn't some sarcastic smile. This wasn't a mocking grin.

It told me so much more than even she could ever articulate and I didn't know how to react and possibly say that she was a horrible human being and that she deserved to die.

How could I do that?

"I am very proud of what you have accomplished in this short period of time, Harry," Rowena said gently. "Am I still not the same person that taught you the Feriollo spell? That made sure that you knew how to dance. That has seen you grow from a weak boy stuck on the ground to someone who can fly higher than I ever thought possible."

I swallowed deeply and tried to form some words.

"I want to teach you, Harry. I want to see you grow, more than you already have. You have so much more to learn." She smiled fondly. "I want to be there and see it when you move mountains and write history."

I grimaced. "Literally or metaphorically?"

Rowena's smile held a melancholic tone to it. "That's up for you to choose."

My master was a horcrux.

My master had murdered someone.

I already knew that though. Still, it didn't feel right to learn from something vile and evil.

I glanced at my master who was observing me intently. Was she really evil? She had saved me in more ways than I could count. How could I ever call her evil after that? She was one of the very few people who I could say had kept me safe.

Perhaps she was evil to others.

But not to me.

I didn't know how to feel. I was stuck in some limbo between the two different ends. There was no in between, I would have to choose. Staring into her eyes, I couldn't muster any strength to leave her after all she had done for me.

But what had she done to create it?

It wasn't just murder she had done to achieve this. According to her own words, things are much worse than killing.

I blinked rapidly.

Was this how it felt being married to a war criminal or a friend of a tyrant?

You knew too much of the good to ever call them evil, even though you should.

I could only really reach one solution. A solution that wanted to make me gag of my own selfishness. Who had died to let her live? Who had suffered worse to make her live?

She was my saviour, I couldn't leave her now. I couldn't.

I let out a deep breath. "Okay, just one thing." I met her gaze with determination. "Promise me to never teach me how to create one."

She inclined her head. "It was one of the few things I never intended for you to learn," she replied.

I raised my eyebrows. "What else am I not supposed to learn?"

She smiled at me with a pair of raised brows. "If I told you, you would learn it."

"I expect you will visit me again soon," she said with a smile. Rowena raised her finger warnigly. "I promise you that this sentimental crap won't happen again for quite some time. This has been more than enough for my lifetime."

I smiled and shook my head. "I think you like it."

She glared at me. "And I think you would look very good in entirely purple clothes."

I held my hands up. "Woah! I can handle horcruxes but purple clothes are a step too far."

-()-

I felt completely exhausted when I emerged from the book and fell asleep almost immediately.

I couldn't have been in the realm of unconsciousness for more than a couple of hours before I was woken by a resounding 'thud'. Although it was difficult to tell what time it was for me, considering we had travelled through half of the time zones in the world. It was bright outside, but I felt as if I had awoken in the middle of the night.

Grumbling about stupid transporation methods, I slip my compartment door open with a jawn and looked outside. Montague had just stepped out of his own compartment; he yawned loudly. At least I wasn't the only one.

Flitwick was beaming in excitement and had no trace of the bags under his eyes which we competitors had. He could have warned us, but perhaps this was part of the experience.

He led us out of the train and I was met with a flood of warmth. Suddenly, I felt grossly overdressed in the humidity of wherever we were. It was in China, that much I knew. Where exactly? No idea.

The noise outside was plentiful; the amount of people somehow even more so. I knew that there were supposed to be over a hundred competitors in the tournament but I had assumed that most schools would act as we did: bring their competitors plus one instructor. That assumption was immediately proved incorrect as a group of at least twenty people dressed in golden robes walked past us with coordinated steps. They reminded me a bit too much of military marches.

Flitwick guided the fours of us past all different kinds of things. It must have been what the different schools used to transport here; it proved one thing: wizards were creative. I stared at a plastic boot which towered over us by at least ten metres, I didn't even want to consider how they actually travelled here in that thing.

"And I thought arriving in a flying train was crazy," I heard Montague mutter to Dolohov next to him. I had to agree with him, especially after seeing a huge frog, one broom with over fifty seats and a very old, small saxophone.

We had to abruptly stop in our path several times as groups of people darted around with no mind to their surroundings at all. Other people I spotted were carrying tents and one person carried a huge jar with an acromantula in it. I didn't even want to know why they had decided that bringing an acromantula to the competition was the move. But who was I to say what was what.

The realisation dawned on me that Hogwarts didn't care about this event. The excitement had been tangible in the air during tryouts and everyone had a go. It was more of an opportunity its students regarded with little actual care. Here, there was no touch of excitement at all. Grim faces were all around us and laughter always sounded a pitch too high and forced.

After what felt like hours of walking around a field with the most out-of-place items, we finally reached the edge of the huge field and I could take in the surroundings. The dry and dusty path we had traversed faded into one of pearl white gravel. The path swindled around low streams and fair flowers. The thing which took up our interest was the huge tree, but it wasn't just a tree. I could see small boxes hanging from branches with thin little lines connecting them; I guessed those were bridges between small houses. Every here and there, there would be a cluster of boxes or a huge plattform with all a bunch of surrounding activity. I grimaced at the realisation. We were supposed to eat, sleep and duel in the treetops.

"Welcome to Nanshu, let's get going," Flitwick exclaimed jovially.

We followed in his wake over the stony path which soon receded into wood, wood which led us higher and higher in the tree. Every now and then a neat balcony appeared and we would marvel at the view; we could see the faint red and black line of our train in the far distance. Flitwick suddenly veered off the main carved out path in the tree and all of a sudden I was walking on a very thin wooden branch over fifty metres in the air. I had never been afraid of heights but this was something else. What concerned me the most was that I could see settlements all around me in surrounding branches; and most of those were above me. I couldn't see most of them due to the sheer size of the trunk but my initial guess was that the tree was over two hundred metres tall.

The branch we were following thined the further out we got and just before we walked through the wall of blue leaves, we stopped in front of a humble hut. It couldn't have been more than a square metre large but it was unsurprisingly many times that size inside. Luckily I had a room of my own again, I honestly couldn't say what I would've done if I had to share. The room didn't contain much, but it was roomy and gave me a great view over the tree. My trunk had been delivered to the place already and I was in the middle of arranging my wardrobe when I heard a faint knock on the wooden door.

"Come in," I said in a voice with fake enthusiasm.

"Mr. Potter, the opening ceremony is in an hour. Make sure you're presentable when we leave in twenty," Flitwick said with a joyful smile.

"Yes Sir," I responded with a curt nod.

He slid the door shut behind him and I looked over my wardrobe again. What on earth was I supposed to wear to this kind of event? I didn't even know what kind of event it was, to be completely honest.

I pretended to go and get a glass of water from the tap and looked at the others. They wore their Hogwarts robes; they felt ridiculously underwhelming compared to the robes of gold and uniforms made of feathers we had seen earlier. Either way, I threw on my best set of robes and joined the others outside in waiting.

Dolohov was in the middle of telling Montague about something which he, about the look of it, found about as interesting as staring at a rock. Dolohov trailed off slowly as I plunged down in an armchair and awkward silence fell over us. We were only rescued by Flitwick emerging from his quarters to once again lead us around the tree to the fabled opening ceremony. As long as I didn't have to get on stage, I really didn't care what it was all about.

I wondered if I would ever learn the complex pathways and branches of the tree. Flitwick guided us as if he knew the paths and roads like the back of his hand; he had probably been here more times than my age. How old was he, really? He couldn't be over a hundred…right?

Our short professor guided us to what felt like the opposite end of the tree where a huge building hung on a branch a little too precariously for my liking. It hung from the branch like a chandelier with only a thin rope keeping it floating. My concerns were quickly swept aside when we entered the room, for lack of a better word. It was at least four times the size of the great hall and rows upon rows of tables lined the room in an orderly manner. Entering the hall immediately made me want to turn around and leave. There were so many things at the same time; there were several hundred people of all ages walking or standing or sitting or flying.

Flitwick turned around to us with a jovial smile. "You'll have to sit at the table in the middle with the other competitors." He gave us a wave and walked as gracefully as someone of his stature could to a table where everyone wore either a beard or a pointy hat.

A glance at the others told me that they felt about as lost as I felt. This was the equivalent of dropping us in the middle of an ocean with nothing but a raft.

Montague let out a long breath. "I suppose we'll have to find some seats."

He grimaced and began elbowing his way through the crowd with the others in tow. I didn't have any better plan at hand, hence I followed them with a stifled yawn. This jet lag was killing me. How I longed for that fluffy bed in my room.

Montague managed to find four spaces close to the entrance next to a group clad in bright, blue robes. I wouldn't ever declare myself a specialist in accents but even I could immediately tell that they were Americans. I had hoped that we would sit beside someone who only spoke Swedish or something. Then we couldn't overhear what the other was talking about. Oh well…

There were plates and accompanying cutlery laid out for everyone which I assumed meant that we would have a meal here. I felt myself having to pinch myself discreetly every few minutes to keep myself from dozing off.

"So Potter, how is life?" Montague asked with a forced smile.

My eyes snapped to his face. "That's an interesting way to start a conversation."

He raised his eyebrows at me. "That's not an answer to my question."

I rolled my eyes. "Splendid."

"Cool," he said with his amused look. Antonia and the Ravenclaw girl were looking at me as well now, something I didn't feel quite comfortable with. "So…what do you think of…this?" he said and gestured to his surroundings.

I kept myself from yawning. "It's adequate."

He shook his head in amusement.

"What do you think about your chance in the tournament?" the Ravenclaw girl cut in with a shy smile.

I shrugged. "We'll see."

They clearly got the hint that I wasn't too keen on talking and started talking about something they had spotted from the room earlier. I tried to focus on their voices to make sure that I wouldn't fall asleep then and there.

"Hello."

"Hello."

"Hello!"

I looked up and found one of the American girls staring at me expectantly.

"What?" I said while blinking rapidly to clear myself of my sleepiness.

"I said, you're Harry Potter, right?"

I screamed internally. "Indeed."

How naive I had been to not expect this. I didn't just scream internally. I did far worse. Calling it a roar would have been a gross understatement.

She nodded as if deep in thought. "I thought so. I have a question," the American girl said with a frown.

With a large, internal sigh I looked at her. If I had to use one word to describe her, I would probably use the word weather worn. She had patches of sunburn in her face and acne riddled her complexion. There was a thin white line on her left cheek which shone against her dark skin: a scar. Her hair was a very dark shade of brown and was knotted in a loose ponytail. There were also bags under her eyes. Like myself.

"Right," I answered with a blank stare.

"Has Mr. Dumbledore taught you the art of the spinning fox?" she said, with a totally straight face.

This was a joke, right?

I blinked in surprise; I had expected a million different questions. That was not one of them "No," I replied succinctly and averted my gaze.

The girl did not take the clue. "Well that changes a few things, what about frog flattering?"

I heard Montague snort behind me.

"No," I replied coolly.

The girl nodded again. "That's concerning." She looked at me sympathetically, as if knowing how to flatter a frog was important.

"Really?" I said dryly.

The girl nodded enthusiastically. "I learnt it when I was twelve," she said with a proud look.

"I'm sure flattering frogs have been very useful for you."

The girl blushed. "I don't mean actually flattering frogs, I meant the transfiguration technique."

I looked at her blankly.

"You know the one he used to defeat Grindelwald?"

I chuckled against my own will. "You want to tell me that Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald by flattering frogs?"

She nodded seriously. "Yeah, everyone knows that." She surveyed me with her eyes narrowed. To her credit, she didn't linger on my forehead. She held out her hand. "I'm Alice Marston."

I stared at her hand for a second before shaking it. "Pleasure." I turned back towards Montague who was seemingly on the verge of bursting into laughter. One glare later and he was silenced. A light pat on my left shoulder made me close my eyes in exasperation before I turned back to the girl, Alice, with an overly sweet smile. "Yes?"

"I have another question," she said seriously.

I let out an audible sigh. "That's a surprise."

"Right, so what do you think of your odds?"

"My odds?"

"Yeah," she said with an enthusiastic nod. "From the betting pool."

"There's a betting pool?" I asked with exasperation.

"You didn't know that either?" the girl giggled at me mirthfully and I found myself desperately wanting to change seats. By now, almost everyone was seated so that option was unfortunately not available. Either way, I found my already low opinion of the annoying 'Alice' sink even lower.

"No," I responded coolly.

Alice's eyes widened at my cool tone. "Ohh, I'm sorry if I offended you. It's just that the betting is like the entire point of the tournament, you know?"

I raised my eyebrows. "A tournament for teenagers is heavily involved with betting?"

"Yeah," she said with a frown. "Why else would it be held?" My retort was cut off by the girl continuing. "Anyway, I'm wondering if your odds should be lowered now. No offence, but you don't seem to know much."

"I don't mind," I said with an even look.

"Perhaps, but you're just so unknown so no one knows where to place you, you know. You could be really good or really bad, no one knows," she said with a smile.

"Isn't it the same about everyone here?" I kicked myself internally, why did I encourage this. I was on the verge of falling off my chair from exhaustion and I decided to make conversation with this rather obnoxious girl.

"Well yes, but most of the competitors you can guess. Everyone from Görans is obviously really good. Ilvermony usually sends someone good, Beauxbatons and Hogwarts are always the wors…decent," she rectified quickly. "But no one knows how good you are."

I raised my eyebrows. "Let's keep it that way then."

The girl smiled at me. "I like the way you think. Perhaps those odds should be higher instead."

I held my hands up. "I'm not saying anything for either side."

She arched an eyebrow. "Hmm, I think you are, actually."

I rolled my eyes. "You're the expert here."

"I know," she replied absently. "Would you like to…"

"GREETINGS EVERYONE!" a small man said from where he stood on a small stage. "AND WELCOME TO THE 47TH COMPETITION OF THE DUELLING DAYS!"

A wild cheer of excitement erupted after his words; I simply clapped politely.

"As you all know," the man began and I thanked him on my ears' behalf for lowering his voice. "The competition will begin in a week with the first duells." He paused dramatically and revelled in complete silence for a moment. "Your groups will be determined tonight, so when you wake up tomorrow, they will be ready for you!"

Another wild cheer sprang forward after his declaration and I grimaced. My tired ears could only take so much.

"I would just like to remind you that branches 67 and upwards are restricted on days without duelling." The man raised his wand and shot a firework into the air. "Tuck in!"

The tables filled themselves with plate of food after plate of food just as he finished speaking; I didn't recognise anything. I thought I put some mashed potatoes with pork on my plate but both tasted off.

"Do you like fermented spider mash?" Alice asked curiously from in front of me.

My eyes widened and I put my fork down. "What!?" I hissed at her.

The girl remained entirely serious. Alice looked at me blankly.

Then she broke into a fit of giggles. "I'm only joking," she managed to get out between her seemingly unstoppable laughter.

I glared at her venomously. "Very amusing."

Alice got her laughter under control. "It was actually. You looked as if you had…well…eaten fermented spider mash!"

I shook my head.

"I apologise on her behalf," a boy sitting in front of Alice said with a small smile. "She has the tendency to go a step or two too far."

"More like a hundred steps too far," another boy said with a smirk.

"Shut up Alex," Alice said with a glare. She turned back to me. "You don't agree with them, do you, Harry?" She looked at me with a pout.

"I can see where they're coming from," I said dryly.

Alice folded her arms stubbornly. "This is unfair. You're three against one."

The rest of the meal proceeded in relative silence only to be interrupted by the man walking out on stage at the same time the food disappeared. "Thank you all, for this fine evening," the man said with a large grin. "I would only like to say a few words before we all depart for the fine comforts of our beds. First of all, there is to be no duelling or fighting outside of authorised duels within the competition. Breaking this rule will result in an instant disqualification." The man surveyed us with a serious look. "Secondly, we have no tolerance for any kind of performance enhancing substance or drugs, breaking this rule will result in the same consequence. And finally, just for the sake of practicality, please use the seats you have now for future events, lest we all have to rearrange ourselves." He clapped his hands firmly and the doors swung upen behind us with a great 'woosh'.

The scrapping of chairs and murmurs of conversation immediately filled the hall; making the pandemonium before the meal appear like a calm event. I could barely see anything except the robes of everyone. I only followed in Montague's wake and hoped that the others would be able to follow me. Flitwick somehow found us when we exited and we were back in our house, or hut, about fifteen minutes later.

A fireplace I hadn't seen earlier was glowing invitingly but instead of the expected fire, there was something else inside. I peeked inside behind the bars and jerked back in surprise. Behind the bars was a fox, but not any kind of fox. No, instead of having regular fur, it had fire.

"It's a 'firefox'," Flitwick said gently. "They are native to this island."

I frowned. "Aren't we in China now?"

Flitwick chuckled. "Of course, but the wizarding part of China is located on this island, completely hidden from muggles."

I nodded in understanding. "Isn't it a bit…inhumane to lock them up like this?" I asked cautiously.

Flitwick looked at the fox sadly. "Yes. Unfortunately, we have no say in the matter. There has been plenty of outrage about Nanshu using these sacred animals to warm their homes, but nothing has come of it. Except conflict, of course."

"Can't they just use a normal fire?"

Flitwick nodded. "They could, but there have been plenty of serious fires causing trouble here. The one good thing about using firefoxes is that they won't start any spreading fires."

I scoffed. "That seems like an easy problem to fix."

Flitwick smiled at me sadly. "Perhaps so, Mr. Potter, but don't we have slaves in Britain ourselves to do tasks which could be done with magic?" He gave me a benign smile. "Good night, Mr. Potter."

I remained where I stood staring into the brilliant orange gaze of the firefox. It made me feel small, looking inside those shining, sad eyes.

For all the wonder and grandeur of this tree and the wizarding world as a whole; they were still just the same as the muggles.

A/N: Here we go, first chapter of 2023 and the fifth year is starting to get going. I hope you've enjoyed it this far, there will be another update next week too!

I'd be very pleased if you left a review, it helps me improve, and well, it's fun to read too.

See ya!