Author's Notes

Hey everyone! Another chapter, this one is a bit shorter and less exciting than the Basilisk fight, but it does cover some important world building/exposition. I hope you like it even without the action and drama of the previous chapter. Once again, thank you to everyone who has Favourited, Followed and Reviewed. I am blown away by the support this story has received and it is truly appreciated. Please continue to show your support and share with your friends and please leave a Review if you like it or even if you don't, I welcome constructive criticism!

Also a big shoutout to Griffin Blackwood who has supported this fic from almost the beginning and consistently leaves reviews to let me know he is still following. It means a lot to have that kind of support so big thanks to you Griffin!

Reviews

JinxedKnight - Thanks for reviewing. They won't see it any time soon, but the legend will build and the rumours will spread.

Guest - Thank you for the correction, I will go back and change the chapters where this is relevant.

griffin blackwood - Thank you for the review! I am glad you liked Kyrre, she has gone through several iterations and actually started out as Hedwig/a snowy owl but I wanted to change the companion to suit Harry's changed character.

Maelstrom15 - Thank you! Yes I have said it before and I will say it again, but Lucius Malfoy is criminally underused. He won't be the "main villain" in this story, but he is definitely up there as one of the worst. This Lucius Malfoy rose to Voldemort's Inner Circle through cunning, skill with his wand and an absolute disregard for any morals. He will not let anything stand between him and his goals.

WARNING

This chapter starts to bring some darker aspects to the forefront. There is mention of implied rape/abuse and some gore so please read on at your own risk. I am considering changing the rating to an 'M' as I think some of the "villain's" actions will go too far for just a 'T' rating. Let me know what you think and if you think the rating should be changed please.

Chapter 21

The atmosphere around the castle shifted dramatically the morning the petrified students were revived and released from the Hospital Wing; the professors clearly realised little work would be done so they announced that classes were cancelled for the day. Harry had been examined by Madam Pomphrey after his meeting with the Headmaster and she had announced him to be in excellent condition despite his exhaustion, the bruises and broken bones he had received during his time in the Chamber were entirely healed and even his scarred hand was improved, though not completely. The Medi-Witch had regretfully informed him that the Phoenix tears had done nothing for his eyes or the scar across the top of his face, but he took the unsurprising news stoically. He had long ago come to terms with his blindness, he had gifts that more than made up for it.

Only a day after the students were revived, Hagrid returned to the castle, sidling into the Great Hall at lunch as stealthily as the half-giant could. He had been deeply apologetic about the Acromantula incident when Harry explained what had happened, insisting that he would be having stern words with 'Aragog' the Acromantula patriarch. The man had refused to speak of his time in Azkaban, but his pallid skin and visible exhaustion spoke volumes to his experience there. He had been held in the low security cells thanks to the Headmaster's insistence and his own actions in the war, but even so, prolonged exposure to the prison's guards could have awful effects.

The majority of the school moved on fairly quickly after the student's were revived, a few even apologised to Harry for suspecting him of being the Heir. The truth that Ginny had been possessed wasn't shared, only that it was a cursed artefact that had caused the opening of the Chamber and that a Ravenclaw had stopped it. While Ginny's role had remained remarkably unknown, Harry was asked by several classmates if it was him who ventured into the Chamber and, despite his repeated denials, the rumours around his actions grew as the days passed.

As for Lockhart, he had been stuck in the Hospital Wing for almost a week before he regained consciousness, although Harry suspected Madam Pomphrey could have healed him quicker had she wished to. Word of his attempted attack on Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick filtered through the school and when he was escorted to the gates by a gleeful Professor Sprout and collected by two wizards in long dark overcoats, well the rumours exploded. Some said he was arrested for trying to kill the professors, others heard that he had been using illegal memory charms on older students, a few of the blond fop's most devout fans tried to correct the rest of the school as clearly the Auror's had needed Lockhart's expertise in some urgent mission. Thankfully, even Hannah had seen through the man's lies and hadn't been too upset at his departure.

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"She is embarrassed Harry, that's all." Neville explained as Hermione hovered a few tables away from their usual spot in the Library. The girl had avoided him ever since the revealing of his Parseltongue ability, she had evidently read and believed the books which described it as a Dark talent, a sign of malevolence in any who could speak it. Even after the victims were revived and had all stated he wasn't the one to attack them, she kept to avoiding him and would sit as far from him as she could in the few classes they shared.

"I don't mind Nev, if you want to sit with her, you can. I know she's been helping you with your Potions revision." Harry brushed his fingers across the page he was reading and hummed to himself before pushing the book away and opening another one from the stack beside him.

"No. I told her that I would be sitting with you and Terry, you're my friends too. She'll get over it eventually." Neville responded surprisingly firmly, though he still looked in the bushy haired girl's direction as he spoke. "Besides, even she admits you are better in Transfiguration than her, and I still can't get the bird to glass spell right."

Harry couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him as he remembered the previous attempt Neville had made to transform a parakeet into a goblet, the chest of the bird had rounded and become glassy, but the rest of its body remained distinctly feathery and worst of all, it did not appreciate the change. It had flown aggressively after Neville as the boy fled its angry assault, only stopping when Professor McGonagall reversed the spell.

"Alright but we're not practicing with an actual bird in here, Madam Pince will string us up by our ears." He grabbed a spare sheet of parchment from his bag and tapped it with his wand. "Mutatio Volucrum" The parchment folded and twisted as his magic forced it into a shape of his imagining. A small parchment bird sat poised on the desk between them, it was eerily lifelike even with it's stiff cream frame and the odd dark blot on one wing where some ink had spilled on it. "Okay, try it on this for me."

"But…that's not a bird Harry? I mean it looks great, don't get me wrong, but the spell is for turning a real animal into glass, not a paper one." Neville poked the little avian statuette with the tip of his wand and almost fell from his seat when the bird twitched ever so slightly.

"Calm down Nev, nowhere in the books does it say you can't use the spell on a parchment animal. It's the symbolism that's important. That is a bird, doesn't matter if it's got flesh and blood, metal, or wood inside, as long as you know that it is a bird. Now give it a try." Harry gestured to the desk and leaned back in his chair to wait for Neville to make his attempt.

"Veroverto." It wasn't a terrible attempt, Neville managed to turn the parchment body into almost clear glass, but when the spell reached the ink blot wing it failed, leaving a strange fusion of parchment and glass at the base of the wing.

"That wasn't bad at all mate, and now I think I have figured out the problem. You're struggling with the visualising, you manage fine when it's all one colour or texture but when there is a change, like the ink stain, you don't picture it changing as well so it doesn't. It's actually pretty similar to my obstacle with Transfiguration." Harry explained as he tapped the half-transfigured bird and unravelled the spell Neville had cast. It was a handy skill Castamir had taught him in the letters they had written since Christmas, there was no incantation, and it could only be done on magic that you understood deeply enough, but if you had the skill you could gently dispel the magic and revert Transfigurations or even undo Charms. His concentration was almost broken when Neville laughed suddenly, and he frowned at the boy as he returned his wand to his holster.

"I'm sorry Harry, but you just claimed to have trouble with Transfiguration after making a perfect paper bird and then you undid my failed spell without even using the reversal spell."

"I still have trouble with some of the spells Nev, I just practice them a lot as well. Besides, even if I practiced and studied every day I still wouldn't come close to your skills in Herbology. Now, take a minute to really visualise the change you want to make, and then try again."

It took two more attempts, but eventually Neville was able to transform the bird from parchment to flawless glass. Once he was able to do so a few times in a row, Harry challenged him with changing the shape in small ways until he was able to turn it into, an admittedly slightly wonky, glass goblet. It took the better part of an hour, but Harry was pleased with Neville's progress and the boy was clearly proud of his own achievement.

They agreed to meet regularly to work on Neville's Transfiguration, but Harry doubted it would take many sessions before the Gryffindor could overcome his difficulties.

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A kind of studious mania descended on the older students as the end of the year and the exams approached. As first years, Harry and Terry had been insulated from the worst of it but as second year students they were now well aware of the frenzied revision and practice that the fifth and seventh years disappeared into for the last few months of the school term. While Harry accepted that his own extra-curricular studies were considered by many as 'over the top', he was amazed to see several Ravenclaw students spending all night revising from dense books in the common room, often surrounded by glass phials that smelled suspiciously of the bitter Kola nuts used in the Wide-Eye Potion.

Harry was actually feeling quietly confident with the approaching exams, he and Terry had continued their nightly quizzing of different subjects and Oliver Rivers had rejoined them in the month leading up to the first exam. Rivers was the only other boy in the dorm who Harry was fairly sure had never suspected him of being the Heir, the quiet boy had always greeted him and been polite, even showing a silent support by sitting next to him at breakfast a few times. Harry wouldn't go so far as to call him a close friend, he knew very little about him really, but he was more than an acquaintance.

Thanks to their nightly ritual, Terry was also noticeably calmer than most of their classmates as they queued up outside the Transfiguration room for their practical exam. The theoretical paper had been interesting, the last few questions tested Harry's knowledge of the rules for inanimate-to-animate transformations and he had been guessing for the final question which was about Golemancy, the art of creating animated creatures from stone or metal that could follow basic commands. It wasn't a topic they had discussed or read about in class, but Harry had come across the subject when looking for spells to improve his animated knight, he and Terry had yet to come up with a name for the game they had created at the beginning of the year, but had both enjoyed playing it when they had the chance.

"Harry Potter." Professor McGonagall's voice echoed in the corridor and startled Harry from his musings.

"Good luck mate." Terry nudged Harry towards the door and gave him a thumbs up as he stepped into the Transfiguration classroom.

The desks had been pushed to the sides to make space for the objects that now took up the space in the middle of the room where Professor McGonagall waited with a roll of parchment in hand. A series of materials were stacked in increasingly large piles next to her, starting with a few matchsticks, then three wooden logs, a mound of loose dirt that came up to Harry's waist, and finally a pyramid of metal bars that was almost as tall as Harry. In front of these piles was a goose that had been frozen in place, likely by a stasis charm.

"Hello Mr Potter, when you are ready please turn this bird into a glass ornament of some kind." Professor McGonagall gestured to the goose. "Once you have done so, I will examine it and if you have done well enough, we will move onto the next stage."

After all the practice Harry had done with Neville, the spell needed was one he was very familiar with and, after deciding on the form he wanted to give the glass, he breathed out and gave a clockwise twist of his wand.

"Veraverto."

Harry was focused on the transformation, so he did not notice the brief spark, or the dim glow that the runes along his cane emitted as he cast the spell. Instead, he smiled as the goose twisted, feathers melted into clear glass and dripped down the goose's body, droplets of molten orange trickled across and up, ignoring gravity as they left trails of colour in their wake. In the time it took his heart to beat four times, the goose was gone and in its place was a tree of glass about as tall as Harry. The trunk and roots were transparent, the only sign of their existence was the warping of light as it passed through, the branches were a little more visible if only because of the leaves they held. Vibrant greens and deep autumnal browns and golds covered the top of the tree, the leaves weren't perfectly formed, there were a few that looked more lifelike, but most were curved angular blades with little texture. Harry knew it wasn't perfect, there was some warping in the trunk and one of the roots was too thin and looked likely to break any moment, but as the light from the magic settled and began to dissipate from the creation, he thought it might be his favourite working yet.

"Filius recommended I let you use your imagination, I was going to have you use these materials to enhance or change your creation until you couldn't keep going or the spells failed." Professor McGonagall whispered as she stepped around the tree and reached out to brush a gentle finger across one of the burnt red leaves. "I think any addition to this would be a true waste so I will change my plan slightly."

She gestured with her wand and a film of magic coated the glass sculpture, Harry didn't recognise the spell but the way the magic coated the glass he suspected it was some kind of protective spell, before she pointed at the far corner of the room and the tree floated gently across the space to hover there.

"Professor Dumbledore explained some of what happened down in the Chamber, so I understand you have some experience with elemental spells, yes?"

"Professor Flitwick gave me a book on them, I can't do all of them, but I can conjure some of the lesser ones." Harry explained as he wondered what the Transfiguration Master was getting at.

"I would hardly describe Coldfyre as a lesser spell, but you are correct it does not rank as one of the higher magics. However, the fact you were able to summon even a spark of the Stygian Flames is a miracle, I doubt there are any students here who could do so without doing serious damage to themselves in the process Mr Potter." Professor McGonagall eyed him seriously for a moment before she nodded to herself. "Very well, what is the most advanced elemental spell you can cast in this room without damaging anything?"

It was an interesting request and one Harry had to consider carefully. Conjuring Coldfyre was out of the question, it was not an easily controlled spell and he had witnessed the damage it could do first hand. He was confident that he could conjure a vacuum barrier again, he had done so for Professor Flitwick the previous year after all, but it seemed too much like cheating to use a spell he had already performed for an exam. There was one spell he had spent many weeks practicing before he could use it for anything of use, it was devilishly tricky and he couldn't use it on anything too heavy but it was the most technically difficult spell he could perform safely.

Inhale.

He focused on one of the wooden logs, narrowing all of his awareness and attention on it until it filled his mind.

Exhale.

"Vald Rike"

Visibly there was no change, but the sudden weight Harry could feel across his shoulders and spine as he held the magic was confirmation that the spell had indeed worked. Slowly and with a great deal of effort, Harry lifted his wand and the log lifted with it until it was a few feet in the air. While the effect could have been replicated with a levitation spell, what he was doing required far more skill and focus. Levitation spells wrapped the object in magic and moved them through the air, sometimes using the air to cushion the object. The spell Harry was using could achieve the same result, but he wasn't casting a spell on the object to move it, he was manipulating gravity around the object to move it. He wasn't levitating the object because to do so one had to overcome gravity's pull, he was changing the source of gravity acting upon the log so that it was being held in place by it's own weight. It was the same spell he had tried to use to stop the bludger in his first year, but he had only recently managed to successfully cast it. Theoretically, the object was near immovable so long as Harry maintained the spell, only he could manipulate the gravity acting upon the object to change it's position or orientation.

"An interesting choice, and well done on choosing an object you knew you could maintain the spell upon." McGonagall made a note with her quill on the roll of parchment as Harry returned the log to the pile and let out an audible sigh as he released the spell, the weight pressing down on his shoulders and back lessened immediately but the strain still left him with a few drops of sweat trickling down his neck.

"Was that good enough for an O, Professor?" Harry asked as he took a few deep breaths and leaned on his cane.

"I cannot tell you your grade Mr Potter, you know that would be against the rules." McGonagall frowned at him, but the small curling of her lips showed she wasn't serious. "However, I can tell you that I haven't seen as impressive a showing for a second-year student since your father, he had a gift with Transfiguration. He would be very proud of you Harry."

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"Professor McGonagall showed me a rather beautiful addition to her office today, Harry." Professor Flitwick remarked casually as Harry cast a cooling charm on a glass of water, small beads of condensation forming on the outside of the glass as the spell took effect. "She seemed very proud of her new glass tree, she has shrunk it and placed it on her desk."

Harry couldn't help the small smile that crept along his face, Professor McGonagall had asked if she could keep the tree, he had assumed it was so she could examine it for his grade but evidently she had liked it enough to keep it as a memento.

"Well done Harry, that is the last of the spells you need to demonstrate for the exam but I would like to keep our little tradition going so, if you feel up to it, please perform another spell to show how your personal studies have progressed." Flitwick smiled and leaned forward eagerly when Harry nodded and rolled up his sleeves, he had spent several days considering what spell to perform for the Charms Master and had settled on one from the French burglar's biography that he had read in his first year. The French wizard, Regis De la Rue, was an interesting character, something of a 'Robin Hood' figure for French muggleborn's before the French Revolution. The man had studied under Nicolas Flamel at Beauxbatons until the French Nobles who ran the school raised the tuition costs for all muggleborns, Regis was the son of a locksmith and used what he had learned from Flamel and his father to break into the Noble's manors and steal from them. He distributed the wealth among the poor and was one of the wizards who helped to break the wards on the Bastille before it was stormed. Sadly, he was blinded a few years later by a Goblin enchantment, the first of its kind used by a wizard to protect their gold, but he lived long enough to learn Braille from its inventor and record his life's story in the language.

"Ombre mutum"

As the magic took effect Professor Flitwick looked confused as no obvious sign of the magic appeared, no sparks or light left his wand. Only when Harry gestured to his feet did the Charms Master realise what the spell had done as he chuckled. Harry took a few silent steps to his around the room to prove the effects and then stepped into the shadows cast by the curtains hanging loosely by the window to show the last part of the remarkable spell.

Regis had created the spell by combining elements from several other charms to create what he called the Thief's Mantle, the spell did not camouflage like the Disillusionment Charm, but it was the next best thing. The subject of the charm cast no shadow when exposed to light, their footsteps were silenced by the condensed and hidden shadows that were bound to the soles of their shoes by the spell, but even more impressive was what the charm could do when the subject stepped into an area of dim light or darkness. The shadows that were bound around the subject's feet to muffle footsteps would silently extend and enshroud the subject's body until they blended almost completely with the shadows they were hidden in. It wasn't infallible of course, a strong light would pierce the shadows and reveal the one hiding within them but to the casual observer the figure would be all but invisible.

"Oh that is brilliant my boy! Truly marvellous!" Flitwick clapped as Harry stepped out from the shade and the shadows slipped from his form, returning to their natural state by his feet. "To bind and manipulate shadow in such a way is ingenious, and for you to be able to do so demonstrates a level of understanding that is very impressive for one so young, Harry. You must be careful though. Conceptual elements such as shadow and silence are very difficult to manipulate. They can be dangerous. I am very impressed Harry and I do not say this to deter you, only to advise you to exercise caution when practicing spells like this."

"I will Professor, I doubt I could perform any other spells like this one anyway." That wasn't strictly true, Harry had already read another spell written by the French thief that manipulated shadows in a much smaller way, it was a spell he was fairly sure he could cast but not one he thought would be useful to him.

"Good lad, well unless there is anything else I should let you get back to your studying, you have your Herbology exam soon, do you not?"

"I do but I did have a question, its not related to Charms but I thought you might still know the answer. I heard someone mention a woman, Mary McDonald? Do you know who she was? What happened to her?" At the mention of the witch's name, the Charms Master's usually jovial expression fell and a solemn frown replaced it as he sank back in his chair.

"Mary McDonald." Flitwick closed his eyes and drew in a slightly ragged breath. "Mary was a friend of your mother's, perhaps her closest, they were inseparable, or at least they were during their sixth and seventh years when I joined as Charms Professor. Mary went on to be a Healer at St Mungo's, I think she even helped to deliver you." Flitwick sighed deeply as he paused, searching for the words to explain. "You must understand Harry, these were very dark times. There were daily attacks by You-Know-Who and his followers, and even after he disappeared after facing your and your parents, his followers did not surrender quietly. The attacks continued, less successfully, until late November when the last of his devoted followers were captured. On the ninth of November, Mary McDonald was abducted during an attack on St Mungo's."

"So, she's missing? She might still be alive?" Even as Harry asked, he knew that his hope was in vain.

"No, Harry." Flitwick shook his head sadly. "Her body was found in Diagon Alley on the thirteenth of December. She was … she did not die peacefully, Harry. She should be known for the number of innocents she healed, the lives she saved. Instead, she is known as the last death of the Blood War. I am sorry my boy. Truly." Harry didn't know how to react as the Charms Professor wiped at a few tears that had crawled down his face during his recounting. He knew that Lucius Malfoy was a cruel man but clearly he was a dangerous one as well. A cruel and dangerous wizard who Harry had made an enemy of.

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"Go on Harry! Destroy him!" Neville cheered as Harry directed his animated knight to swing his stone sword at Terry's creation. The clumsy and misshapen figures they had made in September had been greatly improved upon, no longer made of mud and grass but tightly packed earth and stone. Terry's knight, Lancelot, stood at a little over ten inches, covered in heavy stone plates and wielded a seven-inch sword Terry had painstakingly transfigured from a handful of pebbles a few days prior. Harry had named his knight Gwaine, he stood of a height with Lancelot but was more slender than his hulking opponent, thin stone pauldrons covered in moss and a buckler of tightly woven grass were his only protection and the sword he wielded was smaller and lighter than Lancelot's enormous weapon.

"Take that!" Terry shouted as he twisted his wand and pushed Lancelot to swing wildly with his enormous blade, intending to end their final match with a single blow. As the blade struck Gwaine's grassy shield, the copper Skold rune Harry had spent several hours weaving between the blades of grass flashed and the sword bounced away, along with Lancelot whose 'hand' was fused to the handle of the weapon. Unfortunately, as Neville cackled and Lancelot clambered to his feet, the grass shield began to smoulder as the heat generated by the rune burned the dry grass.

"Ah bugger, I should have thought of that really." Harry cursed as he rocked back and had Gwaine drop the now smoking shield. He had written to Castamir for advice on the shield idea, the enchanter had been very helpful and even sent across some schema for similar items used by mage-knight's back in the middle-ages. The Skold rune wasn't one used by the knights, mostly due to it being an obscure Elder Futhark rune that had only one meaning as opposed to the more versatile Younger Futhark runes preferred by most enchanters. In hindsight, grass was perhaps not the best material to house a rune, especially dry grass on a hot day.

"Damn, I didn't think you'd get that to work before our match." Terry grumbled as his animated warrior staggered towards Gwaine with his blade held high, ready to cleave the stone knight in twain. As Lancelot swung down Harry twitched his wand and Gwaine rolled, somewhat clumsily, out of the way of the blow. The heavy stone sword sunk into the soft dirt and as Lancelot struggled to free the weapon, Gwaine stabbed up from his kneeling position and the magically sharpened sword-tip pierced the stone chest of Lancelot with a shrill grating sound.

"Victory to Harry I think Terry." Susan patted Harry on the shoulder as she examined the animated warriors.

"Yeah yeah alright, but I'll get you next time mate." Terry pointed at Harry with a grin as they separated the animated knights, the magic slipping from their stone forms and returning them to their unmoving states.

"In your dreams Terry, poor Lancelot would need the real Excalibur to stand a chance against Harry's Green Knight." Neville joked as he passed Harry a cup and poured some juice from a jug they had brought out with them. It was a little warm after sitting out in the sun, but still tasted sweet to Harry.

"I still say you should give it a go Nev, although I'd hate to face whatever Flora monstrosity you would create." Harry interjected.

"Oh I don't know, my Transfiguration still isn't-" Neville mumbled before Susan interrupted him with a scoff.

"Rubbish, I've seen you practicing with Harry. You turned paper into a glass statue Nev, I don't know anyone else in our year who could do that." She argued as she dropped gracefully to sit beside Harry, her hand sneaking past Harry's own to steal his cup and take a sip with a grin.

"Oi I was drinking that." Harry pointed out, though his voice lacked any real heat as he reached out and took the cup back from the still grinning Hufflepuff.

"You wouldn't let me go thirsty in this dreadful summer heat, would you Harry?" She pouted at him and he sighed, handing the cup back without another word. "Good boy."

"That's not strictly true you know." Neville said as Susan took another sip from the drink. "Not that Harry is a good boy, although I would argue that one as well. Just what you said about the paper into glass, I'm definitely not the only one in our year who could do it. I think Hermione could probably manage it, maybe Padma as well. But you're forgetting the champion of the stone soldiers over there." Neville pointed at Harry with a warm smile.

"Well yeah but we all know Harry doesn't really count as one of us anyway." Terry answered with a wave of his hand in Harry's direction as he eyed the loose bag of berries Neville had pulled from his belt.

"Wait what do you mean I don't count as one of you?" Harry asked as Terry swiped a handful of the berries and stuffed them into his mouth.

"What Terry means, is that we can't really compare other second years to you Harry." Susan explained as she shot a look of disgust in Terry's direction, the boy having smeared berry juice around his mouth in his hurry. "You cast spells last year that we aren't meant to learn until the end of next year. You killed a-" Susan stopped and looked around to check for anyone listening before she continued in a quieter tone. "You killed a Basilisk and saved that poor Weasley girl. Harry face it, you aren't exactly an ordinary second year student."

"I just study a lot, I read ahead that's all it is." Harry argued as he pointed his wand at the rapidly dwindling bag of berries, levitating a handful across to hover in front of him, safe from Terry's eager hands.

"You just did that without speaking the incantation." Neville coughed into his hand as Terry shook his head mirthfully. Harry gaped at them as Susan plucked one of the berries from the floating bunch and rather impressively threw into Harry's open mouth.

"Really it's just that I study more and I practice more." Harry denied after he swallowed the berry. Even as he did, he doubted his words though. While it was true that he did practice and study more than his friends, he also knew that his sight gave him an advantage when it came to learning and wielding magic. He couldn't help but wonder; was his success just down to the fluke of magic that granted him Fulgomancy, or was it down to his own ability?

"Harry, what was that spell you were telling me about in the Library yesterday? The dragon transfiguration spell?" Neville asked as Terry polished off the last of the berries and slumped back with a satisfied sigh. The question jolted Harry from his introspection, and he returned his attention to his friends and the picnic they were having.

Harry smirked as he recalled the spell and tore up a handful of grass, then another until he had a fist sized clump of material. He threw it into the air and focused his will upon the gently falling bundle of foliage.

"Draconifors."

The blades of grass twisted as they fell, winding and weaving together until they formed the shape of a four-legged dragon. Fragile chlorophyll wings spread to catch the air and slow its fall as it let out a silent but defiant roar. It wasn't perfect, without a Dragon's innate magic the wings weren't enough to keep it off the ground so Harry did his best to guide more magic into its form, imitating the levitation charm's pattern to give it extra buoyancy. It seemed to work as the green dragon climbed higher and higher into the air, much to Susan and Neville's delight as they clapped for the miniature dragon.

Harry had a brief warning as a familiar presence flickered across his mind before a dark streak tore through the air where the grass dragon had been hovering. Kyrre landed beside Harry, looking proud as she reached up with one clawed foot and tore the lower half of the dragon from her beak, the transfiguration failed as she did and the grass fell apart leaving the Norse Raven with a beak full of twisted grass.

"See? I told you that bird is a bloody menace." Terry said as he inched away from Kyrre, Neville looked oddly upset at the sight of the now shredded grass but Susan just laughed at Terry's fearful reaction and reached out to pet Kyrre, gently rubbing her fingers across the top of her head. Susan had heard about Terry's early encounter with the Hrafn and had declared that Kyrre must have good instincts, the two had grown close ever since and Kyrre sought her out almost as often as she did Harry.

"I just don't think she liked Harry having another winged friend. Did you Kyrre?" Kyrre nodded her head and a feeling of triumph and jealousy washed across Harry's mind confirming the redhead's theory.

"Kyrre knows she is the only girl for me." He said with a smile as the Hrafn hopped across and rubbed her head against his hand, a gentle chirp of agreement escaping her beak as she did so.

"Careful mate, I reckon a few of the girls in Gryffindor would be mighty disappointed to hear you say that." Neville laughed as Harry's cheeks burned and he ducked his head to focus on Kyrre. If he hadn't turned his attention so totally on his companion, he might have noticed Susan's angry look at the Gryffindor.

"What are your plans for the Summer anyway? I was hoping we could meet up again like we did last year, maybe without the missing letters this time." Harry grabbed onto the conversational lifeline Susan had thrown him eagerly and heartily agreed with her suggestion. He had already arranged to meet with Castamir during the summer break, the enchanter had agreed to continue with some informal lessons in exchange for Harry helping him sort through some of his less dangerous stock. He was greatly looking forward to spending more of his summer in the magical world, and without Dobby's well-intended interference he could maintain communication with his friends as well.

BREAK

The train journey to London had been mostly uneventful, a few students had poked their heads in to bid one or more of them farewell, the Weasley Twins' goodbye was accompanied by a small bag of wizarding pranks as they claimed their mother would search them upon seeing them and they didn't want to waste them. Luna had stopped by with Colin Creevey, a Gryffindor who had befriended the unusual girl after being assigned to help her catch up on the lessons she missed. She warned Harry to watch out for shadowy figures and heralds of Arawn before giving him a hug and wandering off to look for Nargles with Colin following behind. Malfoy and his henchmen had attempted to open the door to their compartment soon after, no doubt to insult Harry and his friends, but the locking charm on the door defeated them and they left after Crabbe tried and failed to break the door down with his shoulder.

All too soon the train pulled into Kings Cross and they disembarked, Hannah was immediately whisked away by her parents who seemed keen to get her home and safe. Susan was the next to spot her guardian, her aunt was easily recognisable and greeted them all amiably but was also quick to leave with her charge. Susan gave a final hug to Harry and promised to write to him soon before she disappeared with a crack.

"Neville!" Augusta Longbottom appeared from the crowd with her signature stuffed vulture hat and grabbed Neville's shoulder tightly. "Say your goodbye's quickly, Thaddeus Nott has called a Wizengamot meeting for this evening and I'll not miss whatever mischief he is trying to slip through."

"See ya Nev, we'll work out a time to meet up in the Alley soon." Harry gave the Gryffindor a one-armed hug and Terry did the same before the Longbottom matriarch marched him across to the enchanted fireplaces that lined the far wall of the platform.

As soon as Harry and Terry stepped through the barrier they were engulfed in hugs as Petunia and Rachel seized them. It was a tearful but happy reunion and Petunia didn't let go of Harry's shoulder throughout the walk to the car park.

"Don't worry boys, we've already arranged a few dates we can meetup over the summer. You'll see each other again soon enough." Rachel chuckled as Harry gave Terry a hug and the two pairs separated, each heading for their own cars and then home for the summer.

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The blood spattered across the floor of the dimly light stone floor painted a gruesome picture. Some patches were darker and older, staining the stone a ruddy brown, but the fresher marks were still a deep crimson that reflected the flickering sconces set on either side of the closed door. Dirty straw piled in a corner of the room in a poor imitation of a bed while a filthy metal grate built into the floor in the opposite corner served as a toilet to the room's resident. Said resident leant against the wall of his cell, matted hair and a long twisted beard covered most of his face but that which wasn't hidden was gaunt and pale. The sun didn't shine over the island of Azkaban. The stories said that after witnessing the evil that Ekrizdis unleashed on the island, the Sun couldn't bear to look upon the dark isle again. Whatever the truth, thick and stormy clouds had covered the island for at least four hundred years and showed no signs of letting up.

"-ban is the most secure magical prison in the world, I doubt even Nurmengard is as formidable as our prison Minister." It was rare that voices would echo along the corridors of Azkaban, and rarer still that they would reach the top floor of the dreaded prison. The sound didn't penetrate the bearded man's addled mind at first. Years of being exposed to the Dementor's care had forced his consciousness deep into his mind, hiding from the cloaked demons in his memories where they couldn't reach him.

"Indeed Lucius, but much of the thanks go to you and your donations, and your suggestion to allocate more of the DMLE budget to the prison. With your help, we have made Britain safer than ever." A flicker of something shot through the prisoners mind. The memory he was living in shifted and changed at the voice and name. No longer a happy memory from his time at school, now he was in a duel in Diagon Alley against a masked figure.

"Ahem. Apologies Minister but you should be careful up here, some of the prisoners can be aggressive. Please stay away from the bars."

Colourful parasols burned outside of Fortescue's parlour as he ducked under a curse, countering with a searing red spell that burned a line across his opponent's robes.

"Oh yes of course, thank you Runcorn. Oh I say, he doesn't look to have moved since I was last here. Are you sure he isn't dead?"

A bear with stone arms and metal claws tore free from the ground and intercepted a green curse that would have hit one of the red robed Aurors in the back. "Nice one James!" He shouted above the din as he weaved between curses and ducked behind the now broken transfiguration's body.

"No worse than he deserves after what he did, Minister."

The air twisted as a cloaked figure appeared in the midst of the battle, long blonde hair barely visible within the hood as they quickly felled two Auror's, cursing both in the back as they duelled with more cloaked figures across the street.

"I think I need to rest a moment Minister, my leg disagrees with all these stairs. I will join you on the way down."

A curse struck James in the leg, a strangled shout escaped his lips at the pain as the leg twisted and snapped. Sirius moved out of cover, leaping between spells without a care until he stood between his brother and the attacker. As the cloaked figure stepped closer, the light of the burning street revealed his face, a twisted smirk on his lips as he greeted James' defender. "Sir-

-rius Black. Finally succumbed to the madness? I wonder if it is your family's blood or the Dementor's that did it. Can you even understand me?" The blond wizard peered through the bars on the door at the broken man huddled against the wall.

Sirius recognised this wizard. A Slytherin, he graduated two years before Sirius did. Married Narcissa, Sirius' cousin, shortly after. He grit his teeth as he raised his wand and gave a mocking bow in the blond's direction. "Hello Luc-

-cius Malfoy." He spat out as his mind twisted and he returned to the present, though he desperately wished to leave it and hide away in his memories again.

"Oh so you are still there? At least partially. Marvellous. I met your godson recently you know? You would be proud of the little bastard. He has inherited his parent's talent for interfering where he shouldn't." Malfoy sneered at Black as he slowly turned to look back at him. "Not to worry though Black, I'll be teaching him his place soon enough. I think I'll call on Macnair to help, or maybe Yaxley. You remember how good they are at that, don't you?"

Black crossed the cell in a heartbeat. The bars on the door sizzled as his hands clenched around them, the smell of burning flesh wafting from them but he ignored it as he roared in anger at Malfoy who didn't flinch at his reaction.

"Oh but how could I be so careless, you don't even know what he looks like anymore do you? I can help with that." Malfoy leaned in close and whispered through the bars with a grin. "After I have flayed every inch of skin from his body, I will send it to you. You can put it together in your cell. Perhaps it will help stave of that madness a little longer."

Hours later, Sirius Black sat staring intently at the wall of his cell, two foot of carved stone that separated him from the outside world. A world he had all but forgotten about for the better part of a decade. The wall, much like the rest of his cell, was covered in dried blood and other foul material but, barely visibly beneath the filth, tiny imperfections in the stone work could be seen. The work of his younger self when he had first been imprisoned and the hellish tower hadn't purged hope from his soul. Well his hope was still gone, but a righteous fury burned in its place. The last Black brought his hand up to his mouth and bit down on the emaciated flesh with stained teeth, warm blood sprayed into his mouth and he flashed a feral crimson grin in the dark of the cell.

END