A/N: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling and her associates. Please support the official release.

The Grangers' House

"Sweet Lord that is uncomfortable," Harry groaned as his twelfth attempt at apparition ended with him tumbling to the ground in a painful heap. He had managed to successfully travel the distance this time, but for some reason, he could never quite seem to nail the landing.

It was a beautiful Tuesday morning, and Harry and Hermione were practicing apparition. They had been trying to get it right all morning, with the two of them taking turns attempting to apparate across the back garden that came attached with the rest of the Grangers' estate. So far, Hermione had had the most luck, actually managing to remain upright once or twice after apparating, but she could by no means reliably pull it off.

Apparition was by far the most convenient way to travel for wizards and witches. It was essentially the magical equivalent of teleporting, allowing those who mastered it to travel instantly from one location to another, without having to traverse any of the space in-between those two points. This was accomplished by having the user focus on their desired location in their mind, and then purposely disappearing from their current spot to reappear at said location. Hermione had described it as "tearing a hole through the space-time-continuum and then jumping through said hole to arrive at the desired location instantly, without delay." A hopelessly complex way of describing it, of course, but she was Hermione Granger after all, so Harry expected little else.

"It's not meant to be easy," Hermione chuckled lightly, obviously taking great enjoyment in his failings. "It's a Sixth Year spell, and not something that we should be trying to learn already. But, as we decided a couple of days ago…"

"We're going to be pushing ourselves further than anyone else this year," Harry finished for her, the mention of their night together still bringing a faint blush to his cheeks. The past couple of days had gone by with a blur, with most of their time being taken up by studying and preparation for their Fourth Year at Hogwarts. They needed to get a head start on their curriculum as early as possible, so they could ditch classes with good conscience to practice more… questionable magic on their own.

So far, neither of them had attempted to seriously bring up what happened during that one night, but it had become obvious that neither one of them regretted it. As a matter of fact, just the day before, when Harry had attempted to cast the Summoning Charm and accidentally hit himself in the head with the book he was attempting to summon, Hermione had found it incredibly amusing, and given him a quick peck on the lips for his troubles.

"Precisely," Hermione nodded, dragging him out of his daydreams and back to the present. "Apparition is regarded as an advanced spell by the Ministry and is technically illegal to practice without a License."

"Huh… I didn't actually know that," Harry commented as he put his wand back into his pocket. Apparating without the use of a wand was incredibly difficult, and not something he was eager to attempt just yet. He could barely apparate with one, after all, so he didn't want to think about what would happen if he tried to do it wandlessly. "Will the Ministry know that we've tried it?"

"No, they won't. Apparating does not activate The Trace on our wands, as it is not technically regarded as a traditional spell. It does not require any particular wand movements or incantation to be cast, and is mostly intent-focused. The wand is only beneficial because it helps channel the magic, taking some of the strain off of you, the caster."

"Ahh, so because no proper spell is actually initiated by the wand, the apparition goes unnoticed," Harry muttered in response.

"Something along those lines."

"Well, that's good to know. Wouldn't want the Ministry barging in on us whilst we're practicing."

"Yeah, what a tragedy that would be. They would probably be shocked at just how bad you are at it," she teased, a playful smirk coloring her features.

"As if you can do any better," Harry fired back, scoffing indignantly. Raising an eyebrow at his words, she tossed her hair in a show of overexaggerated bravado, before vanishing right in front of his eyes. Eyes widening in surprise, Harry turned around to see where she had gone off to, and spotted her underneath a nearby tree, standing upright with a cocky smile on her face.

"See? Still standing," she grinned.

Not about to allow himself to be outdone, Harry also apparated, appearing right next to her before she had a chance to blink. His apparition, however, didn't go nearly as well as hers, as he immediately tripped and fell as soon as he arrived at his destination. Flapping his arms wildly, he dragged Hermione with him down as he fell, landing on his back with her on top of him.

"Seriously!" she laughed, placing her hands on the grass on either side of his head and pushing herself up she could look at him. "So unnecessary!"

"Alright, alright, I concede. You're better at this than I am," he smirked back, laughing softly as he did. The laughter quickly died down, however, as he found himself staring into the brown depths of Hermione's eyes, utterly enthralled by the beauty he saw within. Hermione also seemed to tense up, the smile vanishing from her face as their eyes locked, and for a moment, the two of them simply looked at each other, unspoken words drifting between them. And then, after what felt like a small eternity, she ever so slowly bent down again to place a careful yet passionate kiss on his lips.

Fireworks went off in Harry's head as she kissed him, and he couldn't help but shudder as she let out a soft groan of pleasure. She tasted vaguely of hazelnut and coffee, which only further incentivized him to deepen their kiss, running his hands through her hair and pushing her against him.

The whole thing lasted for at least a couple of minutes, before the two of them had to separate in order to breathe.

"… Wow, that was…" Hermione started, her mind running in circles.

"Amazing," Harry smiled, finishing the sentence for her. "It was amazing."

Chuckling softly at his words, she kissed him one last time for good measure before getting off of him, allowing him to stand up again.

"Alright then… Where were we?" she asked, immediately slipping back into teacher-mode.

"I believe we were discussing apparition," Harry stated, brushing the grass off his clothes.

"Ahh yes, of course. Well, as we have both seen by now, you aren't exactly the most adept at apparating over short distances. In order to improve your chances, you should seek to better understand what it is you're trying to accomplish. You have to visualize your desired location very clearly, especially if you're trying to travel to one specific spot. If you just want to arrive within the general vicinity of your target, you don't need to visualize it as clearly, but you should still…"

Listening to her go off on yet another one of her infamous ramblings, he couldn't help but smile as he struggled to follow what she was saying. Only Hermione could go from making out one second, to giving a lecture on the theory behind apparition the next.

"… Are you paying attention, Harry? This is very important, so it would be wise for you to listen closely if you wish to pull off a successful apparition any time this century."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm listening," he sighed in reply, ignoring her subtle jibe as if he hadn't even heard it.

Malfoy Manor

Lucius Malfoy was sitting in his study signing off on some important papers when he heard the knock on his door. Letting out a sigh of irritation, he lifted his eyes from the desk, only to be met with the stare of their new house elf, Amadeus, shining back at him.

"What do you want?" Lucius barked, letting his annoyance over being disturbed in the middle of his work seep into his voice.

"Master Lucius, there is a guest at the front door asking to meet with you, sir."

"What?"

Racking his brain, Lucius tried to recall if he had any scheduled appointments today. He couldn't think of any.

"Yes, Master Lucius, I was most surprised myself. I have never seen this particular wizard before. But he was quite insistent on meeting with you," the house elf continued, looking increasingly anxious under his masters' watchful glare. No doubt he feared the repercussions that would come if Lucius decided he needed to be punished for disturbing him.

"Who does he think he is, coming here and disturbing me in the middle of the day?" Lucius sneered to himself, shaking his head in frustration. He was Lucius Malfoy, the head of the most Noble and Prestigious House of Malfoy, for Godric's sake, he didn't have the time to entertain every lowlife wizard and witch who came to his door begging for assistance or money.

"Turn him down, elf," he said sharply, looking down at the pitiful creature in front of him. "I don't conduct meetings with random nobodies, no matter if they claim their message to be urgent."

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Lucius," a hoarse voice suddenly said, making him jump in his seat. Looking around, Lucius scanned the room for the unknown intruder with furious intensity. It didn't take him long to spot him.

Standing in the corner of his study was a black robed, pale man, his slightly freckled skin and brown, messy hair causing Lucius to do a double take. He had immediately recognized who the trespasser was. The person currently leaning nonchalantly against the wall was none other than Barty Crouch Junior himself.

"You!" Lucius gasped, immediately standing up from his chair. "You're supposed to be in Azkaban!"

The man chuckled, a shrill, dry laugh that sent shivers down Lucius' spine, before opening his mouth to answer.

"Supposed to, yes. I broke out."

"B-Broke… out? You mean to say you escaped… the most heavily guarded prison in all of Britain?" Lucius continued, his eyes shining with disbelief.

"Yes, I did. But that's not important, Lucius. What's important is what I'm here to say. What I am here to tell you."

He took a dramatic pause to savor the tension, before continuing to speak.

"I'm here to tell you that his return is imminent, Lucius. The return of the Dark Lord. He's coming. He's coming for us all. He's coming. HE'S COMING," he screamed, his eyes wild and unhinged. It was obvious that the man had properly lost his mind during his time in Azkaban.

"He's… coming? You mean to say… The Dark Lord is alive?!" Lucius choked, his heart now beating rapidly in his chest.

"Yes, he is. He's alive, and eager to take his rightful place as ruler of Britain. He wants the child as well. The little Harry Potter. He wants to kill him, to drink his soul and revel in his death."

"But… but… how can you know? Are you certain?" Lucius still didn't want to believe that his former master had returned. He wasn't ready to face him yet. He didn't WANT to face him yet.

"I have met him, Lucius. I have seeeeeen him," Barty leered, chuckling raucously to himself before pushing himself off of the wall and walking towards the door leading out of the study. "You better be prepared, Lucius. He'll summon you too once he deems it necessary. You wouldn't want to disappoint your master any further than you already have, after all."

"But… but…"

"Take care, Lucius. Oh, and… you should probably get some better security in this place. Slipping in here was a piece of cake."

"…"

And then he was gone, as quickly as he had arrived, leaving a shocked Lucius behind.

"… Master Lucius…?" the house elf asked after a moment of silence, his voice wary and full of anxiety.

"… the wards…"

"What was that, Master?"

"Bolster the wards. Double check to make sure nothing was stolen. And leave me alone. I need to think."

Nodding deeply, the house elf apparated away before he could give it any further orders.

The Dark Lord has returned… He's back. I knew it was a possibility, but… This isn't… I am not…

Suddenly feeling a lot older, Lucius slumped back down into his chair, placing his head in his hands and letting out an internal scream of defeat.

Things were about to get a lot worse. With the Dark Lord back, he needed to prepare. Arrangements had to be made.

It was time to don the robes and wear the mask once again. And this time, the Dark Lord would not tolerate failure.

Summer flew by in a heartbeat, and soon enough, it was time to return to Hogwarts. Whereas the other students in his Year had probably spent the summer lazing off, relaxing after a long school year and taking a well-deserved break, he and Hermione had spent theirs desperately studying every part of the curriculum they could get their hands on, often going through multiple chapters in a day. It hadn't been easy, and Harry couldn't exactly say he felt refreshed and ready to tackle yet another year at Hogwarts, but they had gotten through it together.

It wasn't all bad though. There had been some moments of serenity in-between the harsh bouts of studying. Moments spent cuddling and talking with Hermione underneath a tree in her garden, moments spent with her parents and moments spent relaxing, taking his mind off the horrible reality of his situation. Voldemort might be out to get him, and Dumbledore might be a meddling old fool who would do anything in his power to further his own agenda of pursuing the "Greater Good", but Harry Potter was still the goddamn Boy-Who-Lived, and he would not go down without a fight. Where he had earlier felt insecurity and anxiety at the thought of what awaited him in the future, he now only felt a sense of grim determination. Studying with Hermione and learning as much as he could had only made him even more confident that he would be able to weather the coming storm, no matter what it threw at him.

Everyone always seems so eager on telling me what I should be doing with my time and who I should be fighting. They all think that, just because I am the Boy-Who-Lived, I should be risking my life for their well-being. Like I'm some kind of doll that can be controlled and lead around by the hand. But they've all forgotten one very important thing; that this is MY life. And I'm sick and tired of letting everyone else tell me what to do with it, he thought to himself, staring out the window of the Hogwarts Express at the trees whizzing by. But this year, it'll be different. I'm not Dumbledore's Hero, nor am I Voldemort's puppet. I am Harry Potter, and I am the one in control of my destiny.

A smile plastered itself on his face as he contemplated his future, but it was not a warm or charming smile. It was a cold, selfish grin, one that looked eerily similar to that of a young Tom Riddle, not that Harry could know that. If Dumbledore had seen him in that moment, he undoubtedly would've panicked at the sight.

"Harry, could you perhaps not… smile like that? It's really unsettling," Hermione suddenly said, ripping him from his thoughts.

"Ahh, I'm sorry. I just couldn't help it," he responded nonchalantly, rubbing the side of his face with one hand. "I got really excited thinking about all the things we're going to be doing this year."

"Yeah, well, if you have time to sit there and smile like some kind of nefarious Dark Wizard, you probably have the time to take a look at this as well," she continued, gesturing to the newspaper she had in her hands. Getting up from his seat and sitting down on the opposite side of the compartment, right next to her, he shot a look at the headline in the paper.

A WEEK SINCE THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP ATTACK: MINISTRY STILL IN UPROAR.

"Wait, the World Cup was attacked? Why haven't I heard about this before now?" Harry asked, a look of utter bewilderment on his face.

"According to the article, it happened exactly one week ago. I guess we've just been too busy studying to pay attention to the news, and it passed us by," Hermione mumbled, her eyes darting up and down the length of the article. "You should probably read the entire thing, Harry…"

Taking a closer look at the paper, Harry gradually made his way through the article, his eyebrows raising higher and higher as he read.

"It has been exactly one week since the attack on the Quidditch World Cup in the end of August, and so far, the Ministry has yet to come out with any official word on whether or not they have caught any of the perpetrators involved. According to eye-witnesses that were at the Cup during the attack, the attackers were all wearing black robes and "skeleton-like" masks that starkly resembled the attire worn by He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named's closest followers. The Dark Mark was also conjured in the air as the chaos raged on, lending further credence to the theory that the attackers were indeed Death Eaters sent by He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named with the specific goal of causing a riot at the Cup. So far, the Minister For Magic, Cornelius Fudge, has refused to comment."

"Of course Fudge has refused to comment," Harry hissed angrily upon reaching the end of the wall of text. "Wouldn't want anyone thinking he acknowledges Voldemort's return. That man would probably sell his own mother to the Dark Lord if it made sure his vote count remained high in the next election."

"Judging by what we've heard, he's hardly what you'd call an honest politician, no," Hermione sighed in response, shaking her head as she recalled the rumors she had heard about him. Apparently, he was the one who had sanctioned sending Dementors to Hogwarts after Harry's Obscurus had wreaked havoc at the school. "About the only good thing he's done is arrange a manhunt for Sirius Black."

Harry bit his lip in consternation as she said that. He had yet to tell her about his meeting with his godfather in the Room of Requirement. She didn't know that he was innocent, and that Fudge's manhunt was actually just a smokescreen.

Before he got the chance to reply, however, their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door opening, followed by the rustle of clothes. Turning to the side to see who it was, Harry was surprised to see Luna standing there, together with an anxious-looking young boy Harry vaguely recognized to be a Gryffindor by the name of Neville.

"Harry, Hermione," Luna smiled, nodding to the both of them before walking into the compartment to give them both hugs. Hermione cheerfully accepted hers, but quickly looked a little less happy when Luna turned and gave one to Harry as well.

"It's good to see you again, the both of you. I wanted to introduce you to a friend of mine. His name is Neville Longbottom, and he's in the same Year as us, only he's a Gryffindor instead of a Ravenclaw," Luna chirped happily after she separated from Harry, gesturing towards the nervous boy still standing in the doorway. He haltingly raised his hand in greeting, an awkward smile plastered on his face.

"H-Hi… I'm Neville…" he started, looking very uncomfortable all the while. Harry couldn't help but take pity on the boy. He obviously lacked self-confidence, and didn't seem to be particularly brave, despite being placed in Gryffindor.

How ironic, Harry thought to himself.

"Hi there, Neville. I'm Hermione, and this is Harry," Hermione said, sending the boy a comforting smile. "We're also Thir… Fourth Years."

"I-I know. Luna told me earlier. It's… it's nice to meet you," he replied, his eyes darting between the two of them before settling on the floor in front of him.

"Would you like to sit with us?" Harry asked, seeing no reason to turn the boy away, especially not after learning he was a friend of Luna's. Like Hermione had said all those weeks ago, they needed allies, and Harry wasn't exactly in a position where he could afford to be picky.

"Is… Is that okay?" Neville asked, clearly a little suspicious. He probably suspected they were simply being nice to him out of necessity, and not because they actually wanted him to sit with them.

"Yes, of course. Sit down," Hermione nodded, gesturing to the empty seat opposite of her. He only took a seat once Luna took the one opposite of Harry, sliding in next to her on the couch.

"So, how's your summer been, Luna?" Harry asked, fixing the young witch with a curious look.

"Oh, it's been very nice, thank you. My father only had two panic attacks and one nightmare about my mother this year," she noted absentmindedly, putting a finger to her lips in contemplation.

Harry and Hermione shared a look, before they both sighed. They had forgotten how blunt their blonde-haired friend could be.

"Wow, that's great news, Luna," Harry replied drily, sending the now thoroughly confused Neville a comforting stare. He obviously hadn't grown accustomed to Luna's behavior yet, and looked positively crestfallen at her sudden announcement.

He'll get used to it soon enough.

"Yes, it is. How was your summer? That is a question for the both of you, by the way, seeing as you spent the summer together," she answered, looking at them with the same old dreamy-eyed expression she usually wore.

"Oh, it was… very enlightening. In more ways than one," Harry replied, earning him an elbow in the ribs from Hermione.

"Ahh, I see. You had sex," Luna nodded.

"WHAT?"

Everyone in the compartment apart from Luna let out a yelp of surprise.

"You said it was very enlightening, and, seeing as the two of you have been sitting way closer to each other than normal during the entirety of my stay in this compartment, I arrived at the most logical conclusion. That you had sex," she finished, her logic so incredibly far-fetched it almost sounded believable.

"That's your definition of a logical conclusion?!" Hermione shrieked; her eyebrows raised and her eyes wide.

"Yeah Luna, just because we're sitting closer to each other than usual, doesn't mean we've automatically had sex," Harry sighed, having recovered from his initial shock.

"But have you?" she asked, refusing to back down.

"NO!" Hermione yelled, her face beet red. "Of course not!"

"We got damn close though…" Harry muttered silently to himself, restrained enough for nobody to hear.

"Ahh, okay. I was just curious," Luna finally shrugged, seemingly oblivious to the awkward atmosphere she had created with her very honest question. Poor Neville looked like he was seriously considering jumping out of the window just to escape the tension.

It's going to be a wild year, Harry thought to himself as silence descended upon the group.

He had all but forgotten about the dusty old book that was currently residing on the bottom of his trunk, waiting patiently to play out its part in the tapestry of fate that was Harry's life.

A/N: I've been on fire recently with these chapters, and I can't see myself stopping anytime soon. It just feels REALLY GOOD to be writing right now, and I'm hoping this bout of inspiration continues to last for as long as possible. I'm having tons of fun writing this stuff and it seems like you guys are enjoying reading it too.

Now, I feel obliged to tell you that I've gone back and rewritten parts of the earlier chapters of this story in order to better match Harry's personality THEN to his personality NOW. Reading my story from the beginning for the first time since I started writing it, it struck me just how much of a pompous asshole Harry came off as in at least the first two / three chapters, and I wanted to remedy this error for the sake of character continuity. As such, I have rewritten some segments to make his character easier to read and more believable. Don't worry though, you don't have to reread the whole story, I just wanted to let you know that there have been some slight changes.

As always, if you enjoyed the read, please be sure to leave a review, and I will see you guys in the next chapter!

-Twisted