Diagon Alley

26th June 1992

Having sent an invitation to both Terry and Hermione to having a meet up in Diagon Alley for this afternoon earlier in the week, Harry found himself seating in one of the empty tables that decorated the dusty and dingy Leaky Cauldron. Dressed in comfortable, yet richly sewn robes that clasped around his neck, Harry was dressed relatively informal.

A sudden flash and woosh of the emerald flames from the Cauldron's fireplace saw Terry being launched suddenly, landing rather undignified on top of an innocent chair. Dressed in what would be considered semi-formal for a pureblood family, Terry's hair was finely combed and neatly styled, his glasses remained soot-free and glittering, his robes were made of a finer material than most humble wizardfolk would have been able to afford, they were nonetheless a beautiful shade of navy blue. His face, covered with the dark grey soot from the fireplace, was immediately cleansed and evaporated by his father, who arrived in a more dignified manner that befitted the Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Boot.

Lord Thomas Boot was every bit the image of his own eldest child. Taller yet remaining the same thinning body, Lord Boot cut the image of a researcher with his rather fancy set of spectacles that had been enchanted by himself.

An Enchanter, as was the norm for the majority of the Boot family, Thomas Boot had ensured his own glasses were well protected from harm or disappearances. Etched with fine and small runes, it was nigh indestructible and impossible to be removed by anybody except himself.

Appearing behind him, stood the Lady of the Boot family, Lady Jacqueline Boot nee Diggory, she was second cousins to Amos Diggory, father of Cedric Diggory, the current Seeker for the Hufflepuff House.

Made from a warmer cut, Jacqueline Boot was a gentle and matronly woman, possessing a healthy layer of padding to her, she appeared neither overweight nor underfed. With kind brown eyes, she held a gentle smile as she began to greet Harry.

"Harry! Oh, how wonderful to meet you!"

A rather severe breach in protocol among most pureblood families, the Boots were hardly one to follow the strict code upheld by the likes of the Malfoys or Notts. As such, Jacqueline gave him a warm and soft hug, wrapping her arms around his shoulders briefly.

Surprised, Harry could barely wrap his own arms around her when she leaned back and gently cupped her hands around his face while looking directly at his eyes, "I do hope you are eating well, dear? You look to be in much better shape than Terry there, I do hope some of that healthy appetite will pass along to him."

Ending with a not so subtle look to Terry, Jacqueline Boot released him and turned to assist the remaining horde of the Boot family.

At age 9, Charles (call me Charlie) Boot possessed a darker set of hair and eyes than his father and brother but held the same set of features that made them brothers quite feasible to the eye. Roxanne Boot, the youngest and only girl, was 5 years younger than Terry at the tender age of 7. Taking after her own mother, Roxanne was every bit as unrestrained as her own mother had been when she when up to Harry and gave him a quick but strong hug.

"It's nice to finally meet you with more time at hand, Harry. I'm afraid that last winter did not allow for a better first introduction. Terry tells me that you are waiting for another one of your fellow Ravens? A Miss Hermione if I am not mistaken."

"Yes, Lord Boot, it is a pleasure to have your acquaintance, and you as well Lady Boot."

With a disregarding wave of her hand, Jacqueline Boot said, "Oh, we'll have none of that Lord and Lady spiel, you may call us Thomas and Jacqueline."

With a nod of his head, Harry replied, "Yes, ma'am."

The door opening from the muggle entrance of the Leaky Cauldon saw a wave of dust swirling around them when they saw the Grangers appear. Dressed in a what seemed to be an attempt to appear both classy and comfortable, Daniel and Emma Granger were demonstrating their wealth while also remaining humble.

Hermione, with her unruly wavy brown locks, was dressed in a simple black robe over her muggle clothes. Upon seeing them, Hermione let out a small shriek before making her way towards them.

Giving them both a sudden and strong hug, Hermione began by saying, "Oh, it's so wonderful to see you both. I can't believe that the first couple of weeks of summer vacation has just blown by. You'll never guess where we are planning to go later this summer! Oh, I've missed being able to use magic, I cannot believe that we really are not allowed to use magic around our parents in the muggle world. I mean, it's not like they already know about us and the magical world, I can hardly see the harm in performing some magic with them, especially if its kept away from other muggles."

Her greeting, turn rant midway, was all said with hardly a single break nor breathe.

With a chuckle, Harry laid his arm around her before saying, "Hermione! It's great to see you too but you really ought to remember to breathe when you talk."

With a shake of her head, Emma Granger wore a smirk as she said, "You'll have to excuse her, Harry. When she gets excited, Hermione has hardly any restraint in her excitement. It's something she seems to have inherited from her father."

With a roll of his eyes, Dan chuckled before agreeing, "What can I say, we're a passionate people."

With another round of greetings underway, the Grangers and the Boots settled into a comfortable lull as the men began their discussion regarding the differences in mundane science and magical research. The ladies, keeping an eye on the children, began to talk about their own experiences and troubles in raising young witches and wizards.

"It was all quite a fright when we saw Hermione levitating her favorite book as a toddler. We couldn't understand how she was able to do that. Even taking her to a doctor proved useless because they had no idea of what it was she had. When Professor McGonagall came to us on her eleventh birthday, it was as much of a shock as a relief for us to finally have an answer to Hermione's uniqueness."

With an understanding nod, Jacqueline said, "I can only imagine not understanding what Hermione was performing. I've had my own set of frights with these kids, and that's with us already knowing what to expect. Then there is their never ending appetite for sugary treats. I don't know how you were able to curtail that in Hermione."

"Well we're dentists, you see. From a young age, Dan and I always limited the amount of sugar to Hermione, so she became hardly interested in candies. It was only when she entered primary school that she became interested in eating candies, but even so, Hermione has always been very self-restraint."

Eventually, the Boots invited the Grangers for a spot of lunch in a rather informal yet delicious café in the middle of Horizont St. After a spot of lunch, leaving everyone feeling the sensation of fullness and drowsiness, Harry, Terry and Hermione bid their way through the throngs of Diagon Alley to enjoy some time alone.

Entering and enjoying the wares of each store that caught their eyes, the only one that truly captivated the eyes and hearts of the budding bibliophiles was Flourish and Botts.

A three storied building, it was made from a reddish brown brick material that provided a feel of age to the store. Within it, the trio saw shelves amongst shelves of books, different sections having different classes of topics and fields. With each rising floor, the complexity of the books seemed to grow to the point that even Harry had difficulty understanding the material.

After the passing an hour, that felt to them simply a few minutes, the trio were forced to leave the bookstore with heavier bags and lighter a coin purse.

Settling into the many available chairs of Florean's Ice Cream shoppe, the trio began a much more serious talk. With a wave of his wand and the soft murmur of his lips, Harry casted a Silencing ward around them to avoid any potential eavesdroppers.

The same static buzzing tickled their ears as they began.

"How have the both of you been since the events of the Stone at the end of the year?" asked Harry, understanding that the experiences may have been overwhelming for the both.

Looking solemnly towards their ice cream, mint chocolate chip for Terry and butter pecan for Hermione, the two played aimlessly with their spoons as they thought about their experiences.

Beginning first, Terry answered, "I'll be honest, Harry, I still have a bit of nightmares in the night. I keep dreaming of the faceless chess pieces coming at me, striking me and leaving my lifeless body alone…I had to explain what had happened to my parents after the first time I woke up screaming in a fright. They went absolutely mental against the Headmaster over why they hadn't been informed. They even had a meeting with Professor McGonagall and the Headmaster over this oversight in informing them when I or even any of us had been in trouble. I had to convince them to allow me to return to Hogwarts this year. The events of our last year did not inspire much confidence towards the Headmaster or Hogwarts' security.

Nodding in agreement, Hermione added, "My parents were of the same mind. When I told them about what we experienced, they were both scared and upset on why nobody had reached out to inform them. If anything remotely harmful had occurred to any one of us in the muggle world, the headmaster of the school would have immediately informed them of their child's condition. They actually have a meeting Professor McGonagall in a bit to discuss why they did not feel the need to inform them and whether I'd actually remain enrolled in their school or go to the Ministry's School for Magic."

Taking a spoonful of his ice cream, cookies and cream, Harry looked at them both when he said, "Before anything else, I would like to apologize to you both. I should not have let you have gone with me to defend the stone. You both have families and loved ones, it was careless of me to have allowed you to join me."

With an erratic shake of her head, Hermione interjected, "Oh stop that Harry! You know quite well that you neither forced us nor convinced us to join you. We chose to join me. We trusted you and chose to follow your lead."

"Yeah, mate," said Terry, "You have no blame in any of this, we chose to do it. The only ones to blame for this is Quirrell, Voldemort and the professors for their less than stellar protections. We warned Professor McGonagall about our suspicions, and they did nothing about it. They had ample time to have set up a rotating scheduled to have professors take up guard near the corridor and they did nothing! How it fell to us three first years, I do not know, but all we did was fix their mistake. It should be they who apologize to us…not you."

His face nearly red in anger, Terry was glad that the Silencing ward had been cast, least his rant would have been overheard by others.

Gracing them with a small smile, Harry replied, "Thank you, to you both. Your willingness to have followed me mean a lot to me."

"Of course, Harry. We know you would have done the same for any one of us."

Taking a break from their conversation, the trio enjoyed a comfortable taste of their own ice creams.

"I do have a request from you both."

Turning to face him, Terry and Hermione looked expectantly at Harry.

Removing two small books from his book bag, Harry placed them before the duo, written in rather small print were the word, "The Mental Art of Defense for Beginners." The book was barely bigger than their hands but opening its covered showed that it was filled with tiny prints, each page holding a veritable discussion over the practice of Occlumency.

"These books discuss Occlumency, or the mental art of sorting and defending one's mind. When done correctly, it can be used to ensure that no one can enter your mind and view your memories without your permission. It even has the added benefit of allowing you to have a near perfect recall and process new information at a faster rate. I ask that the both of you begin studying it so that we can ensure that any secrets we hold will remain between us. I will warn you, however, that it is long and tedious, requiring many hours a day to sort through your memories before any real defense can be implemented, but the benefits heavily outweigh the tediousness."

Skimming through the book, Terry and Hermione looked at their own respective book with a visible gleam of hunger in their eyes.

"I've heard my father mention this before. He said that most accomplished wizards have mastered Occlumency. Even he had trouble fully mastering it during his apprenticeship for his Enchanting masters."

"I know its something fairly difficult to ask of you, but I truly feel that learning it will be useful for us."

"Of course, Harry, we'll get started on it."

Changing the topic to a more interesting subject, Harry said, "Let me tell who I met last week."

Learning in, Harry revealed the existence of the Stone, how he was able to hide it away and secure it without anyone the wiser. He explained that he reached out to Flamel to return it and was able to meet him. Wide-eyed, the two Ravenclaws were entranced in his tale of having met the legendary Nicholas Flamel.

"How was we?!"

Thinking about his impression, Harry could only surmise it in one word, "Wise. He doesn't look like he'd ever be close to a century, much less six centuries. But his eyes, they reveal just how intelligent he is, his presence just fills you with how experienced he is. Even his persona, calm and collected, just demonstrate his wisdom."

With a silent 'wow' murmured by the two, Terry and Hermione asked for more.

"He offered to help me, and by extension, you two as well, in our preparation for Voldemort's return. I am awaiting some books from him that he felt might prove useful in getting us ready. That, along with beginning some physical exercise this upcoming year will be just some of the changes that I believe we'll have to do."

"What else have you been planning, Harry"

"I converted a room in my family's manor to serve as a hospital ward in case we ever get injured and require medical care. Its filled with enough potions for all of us. I'm also in the process of purchasing several properties that will serve as a series of safehouse for us and any other who need protection. I think we need to take the Dark Lord's return as a very real threat and prepare for him eventual return. Studying and learning at Hogwarts is well and good enough to pass their exams but they will not prepare us for any real fighting. Quirrell proved to me just how outclassed I was against him."

"But Harry, even with the three of us fully armed and trained, we wouldn't be able to do much harm to him or his Death Eaters alone. We'll need allies, people who we can trust to help us."

"I know. I was thinking that we might need to develop our own network of allies. We'll have to keep it secure and hidden from the general populace."

"How will you do that? Even with you being the Boy-Who-Lived, people will not take a trio of second-year students seriously."

"I understand, but in the meantime, we'll have to lay the foundation of our group, what its purpose will be and how it'll function before we are ready to begin inviting members into it. We'll have to find a secure method of communication, ensure their secrecy and loyalty, a proper training regimen for new members and a fast method of transportation. All of these issues will not be solved immediately, but we'll take advantage of the time we have before the Dark Lord's return to prepare correctly. We cannot allow our fear to cause us to make a mistake."

"We'll need a name…something that we can use publicly to announce our group."

"Oh, I've got one already. Its simple and speaks about our intentions."

"What is it?"

With a smirk, Harry whispered his answer, "The Vanguard."

Ottery St. Catchpole

The Burrow

1st July 1992

With a cry of 'The Burrow,' Harry felt himself begin to spin faster and faster until he began to feel it to slow down, leading to him to bring his right foot forward and twist himself against the flow of the spinning.

Landing in a much more dignified manner than Terry, Harry barely stumbled as he landed in the living room of the Burrow. Looking around, Harry took note of his first look of a magical home that was not the residence of an Ancient and Noble house.

The kitchen was small and rather cramped. There was a scrubbed wooden table and chairs in the middle. The clock on the wall opposite him had only one hand and no numbers at all. Written around the edge were things like 'Time to make tea,' 'Time to feed the chickens,' and 'You're late.' Books were stacked three deep on the mantelpiece, books with titles like 'Charm Your Own Cheese, Enchantment in Baking, and One Minute Feasts — It's Magic!' And unless Harry's ears were deceiving him, the old radio next to the sink had just announced that coming up was "Witching Hour, with the popular singing sorceress, Celestina Warbeck."

Standing before him, looking at his with a wide smile was a short, plump, kind-faced woman with ginger hair and a face full of freckles. She was wearing a flowered apron with a wand sticking out of the pocket.

"I'm very pleased to see you, Harry, dear," she said. "Come on in! I think Ron is outdoors in the garden."

As was the case with Jacqueline, Mrs. Weasley was similarly just as willing to give him a hug, but whereas the hug from Lady Boot was soft and quick, Mrs. Weasley's hug was longer and much stronger, leading Harry to feel woozy from the lack of air.

Offering her a short bow, Harry greeted her, "Good afternoon, Lady Weasley. I'm quite thankful to have received your invitation to your lovely home."

With a wave of her hand, Mrs. Weasley said, "Oh, you're quite welcomed dear. But please, call me Molly. I'm not as strict with the pureblood protocol since I left my parent's house."

Molly Weasley nee Prewett was the eldest daughter of Bilius and Ginerva Prewett, the former Lord and Lady of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Prewett. The elder of three, she had identical twin brothers who were a part of the Order of the Phoenix during the war, something Harry had found during his research regarding the Order. Remarkedly powerful and a dynamic duo, the twins were said to have taken down a dozen Death Eaters before their eventual death at the hand of the infamous Antonin Dolohov, the former International Dueling champion turn Death Eater.

Due to the deaths of her brothers and the Prewett family being a patriarchal run house, the Lordship was kept in stasis until the eldest of the Weasleys, Wiliam (Bill) Weasley took up the reigns of the family.

A current cursebreaker for Gringotts Bank, Bill Weasley was a rather accomplished and powerful wizard to have been accepted by the goblins.

Guiding him to the outdoor garden, Harry took note of the self-cleaning supplies that were floating around the sink and floor, mopping and scrubbing. Exiting the home, Harry was able to see the exterior of the Burrow.

It looked as though it had once been a large stone pigpen, but extra rooms had been added here and there until it was several stories high and so crooked it looked as though it were held up by magic (which, Harry reminded himself, it probably was). Four or five chimneys were perched on top of the red roof. A lopsided sign stuck in the ground near the entrance read, 'The Burrow.' Around the front door lay a jumble of rubber boots and a very rusty cauldron. Several fat brown chickens were pecking their way around the yard.

Looking around, Harry took sight of the Burrow garden. The garden was large, and in Harry's eyes, exactly what a garden should be. The Dursleys wouldn't have liked it — there were plenty of weeds, and the grass needed cutting — but there were gnarled trees all around the walls, plants Harry had never seen spilling from every flower bed, and a big green pond full of frogs.

Standing near the center of the garden was Ron Weasley. The youngest of the six boys and the sixth of seven children, Ron often felt overshadowed and overlooked by his older siblings. Often found moaning about his struggles, Ron aspired to become a wizard of renown for his own accomplishments and not be compared to his older brothers.

"Hiya Harry!" greeted Ron as he took sight of Harry walking towards them bedside Mrs. Weasley.

Dressed in dirty trousers and a faded top, Ron's face held smudges of mud on his cheeks, his blazing ginger hair was a rat's nest with it longer and more unkept that Harry usually saw him. Bedside him stood the Weasley twins, Fred and George, who look so identical that they were rather famous in Hogwarts for changing their own name and confusing people with who was really who.

"Mum asked us to de-gnome the garden from all these little blighters."

"De-gnome?" asked Harry, looking around for the little gnome figurines found on a muggle household.

"Oh, not one of those little Santa Clauses that the muggles seem to like, no—it's more like this."

Catching an unsuspecting gnome from a peony bush, Ron raised the magical gnome. It was certainly nothing like Santa Claus. It was small and leathery looking, with a large, knobby, bald head exactly like a potato. Ron held it at arm's length as it kicked out at him with its horny little feet; he grasped it around the ankles and turned it upside down

"This is what you have to do," he said. He raised the gnome above his head ("Gerroff me!") and started to swing it in great circles like a lasso. Seeing the shocked look on Harry's face, Ron added, "It doesn't hurt them — you've just got to make them really dizzy so they can't find their way back to the gnome holes."

He let go of the gnome's ankles: It flew twenty feet into the air and landed with a thud in the field over the hedge.

"Pitiful," said Fred. "I bet I can get mine beyond that stump."

Harry learned quickly not to feel too sorry for the gnomes. He decided just to drop the first one he caught over the hedge, but the gnome, sensing weakness, sank its razor-sharp teeth into Harry's finger and he had a hard job shaking it off — until — "Wow, Harry — that must've been fifty feet…"

"See, they're not too bright," said George, seizing five or six gnomes at once. "The moment they know the de-gnoming's going on they storm up to have a look. You'd think they'd have learned by now just to stay put."

Soon, the crowd of gnomes in the field started walking away in a straggling line, their little shoulders hunched. "They'll be back," said Ron as they watched the gnomes disappear into the hedge on the other side of the field. "They love it here. . . . Dad's too soft with them; he thinks they're funny…"

Just then, the front door slammed.

"He's back!" said George. "Dad's home!"

They hurried through the garden and back into the house. Mr. Weasley was slumped in a kitchen chair with his glasses off and his eyes closed. He was a thin man, going bald, but the little hair he had was as red as any of his children's. He was wearing long green robes, which were dusty and travel-worn.

"What a day," he mumbled, groping for the teapot as they all sat down around him. "Nine raids. Nine! And old Mundungus Fletcher tried to put a hex on me when I had my back turned…"

Mr. Weasley took a long gulp of tea and sighed.

"Find anything, Dad?" said Fred eagerly.

"All I got were a few shrinking door keys and a biting kettle," yawned Mr. Weasley. "There was some pretty nasty stuff that wasn't my department, though. Mortlake was taken away for questioning about some extremely odd ferrets, but that's the Committee on Experimental Charms, thank goodness. . . ."

"Why would anyone bother making door keys shrink?" said George.

"Just Muggle-baiting," sighed Mr. Weasley. "Sell them a key that keeps shrinking to nothing so they can never find it when they need it. . . . Of course, it's very hard to convict anyone because no Muggle would admit their key keeps shrinking — they'll insist they just keep losing it. Bless them, they'll go to any lengths to ignore magic, even if it's staring them in the face. . . . But the things our lot have taken to enchanting, you wouldn't believe —"

He looked around, saw Harry, and jumped.

"Good lord, is it Harry Potter? Very pleased to meet you, Ron's told us so much about —"

"A pleasure to meet you, Lord Weasley"

Wide eyed, Arthur Weasley simply shook his head as he said, "Oh no, none of that, Harry. The Weasleys aren't really seen as an Ancient family for a while now. You can just call me Arthur."

The Ancient House of Weasley was every bit a part of the British Wizarding World as the Potters and Boots but were generally looked down by most pureblood families for their tendency to marry anyone regardless of their blood status and poor financial status. The family wealth had been taken by the Malfoy family when Armand Malfoy, the great-grandfather of Draco Malfoy, was able to hoodwink Lord Weasley to sign away his home and vaults to him. Or, at least, that was what was proclaimed by the Weasley family. No evidence pointing the Malfoy as culpable was ever found but seeing his descendants, Harry could definitely see Armand Malfoy doing some that deceiving.

Regardless of their lack of proof, the Weasley family were sworn enemies of the Malfoy family. A legacy that seemed to have continued to the newest generation, a day could barely pass by without Ron murmuring spiteful words against Malfoy or Draco inciting an argument against Ron.

"Regardless, I, and by extension House Potter, greet you, Lord Weasley."

Offering him a deep and respectful bow, Arthur Weasley looked wide-eyed as his own body rose up and returned to him a bow, "I greet you, Lord Potter, be welcomed under the rights of guest. We swear no foul intent. My home is your home."

Looking at their display, the younger Weasley siblings looked every bit as confused as they felt.

At that moment there was a diversion in the form of a small, redheaded figure in a long nightdress, who appeared in the kitchen, gave a small squeal, and ran out again.

"Ginny," said Ron in an undertone to Harry. "My sister. She's been talking about you all summer."

"Yeah, she'll be wanting your autograph, Harry," Fred said with a grin.

"Come on, Harry. Lets go to my room."

They slipped out of the kitchen and down a narrow passageway to an uneven staircase, which wound its way, zigzagging up through the house. On the third landing, a door stood ajar. Harry just caught sight of a pair of bright brown eyes staring at him before it closed with a snap.

"Ginny," said Ron. "You don't know how weird it is for her to be this shy. She never shuts up normally —"

They climbed two more flights until they reached a door with peeling paint and a small plaque on it, saying 'Ronald's Room.' Harry stepped in, his head almost touching the sloping ceiling, and blinked. It was like walking into a furnace; nearly everything in Ron's room seemed to be a violent shade of orange: the bedspread, the walls, even the ceiling. Then Harry realized that Ron had covered nearly every inch of the shabby wallpaper with posters of the same seven witches and wizards, all wearing bright orange robes, carrying broomsticks, and waving energetically.

"The Chudley Cannons, I presume?"

"The Chudley Cannons!" confirmed Ron, pointing at the orange bedspread, which was emblazoned with two giant black C's and a speeding cannonball. "Ninth in the league."

Ron's school spellbooks were stacked untidily in a corner, next to a pile of comics that all seemed to feature The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle. Ron's magic wand was lying on top of a fish tank full of frog spawning on the windowsill, next to his fat gray rat, Scabbers, who was snoozing in a patch of sun. Harry stepped over a pack of Self-Shuffling playing cards on the floor and looked out of the tiny window. In the field far below he could see a gang of gnomes sneaking one by one back through the Weasleys' hedge. Then he turned to look at Ron, who was watching him almost nervously, as though waiting for his opinion.

"It's a bit small," said Ron quickly. "Not like the rooms you must have in the Potter Manor. And I'm right underneath the ghoul in the attic; he's always banging on the pipes and groaning. . . ."

But Harry, grinning widely, said, "This is the most magical house I've ever been in."

Ron's ears went pink.

The rest of the afternoon was a surreal experience to Harry, having never been in a house so full and magical. The Dursleys liked everything neat and ordered; the Weasleys' house burst with the strange and unexpected. Harry got a shock the first time he looked in the mirror over the kitchen mantelpiece and it shouted, "Tuck your shirt in, scruffy!" The ghoul in the attic howled and dropped pipes whenever he felt things were getting too quiet, and small explosions from Fred and George's bedroom were considered perfectly normal.

Mrs. Weasley was over the moon at Harry's 'healthy appetite and a wonder of manners' that she hoped could be passed on to Ron. Mr. Weasley had Harry sit next to him at the dinner table so that he could bombard him with questions about life with Muggles, asking him to explain how things like plugs and the postal service worked. "Fascinating!" he would say as Harry talked him through using a telephone.

"Ingenious, really, how many ways Muggles have found of getting along without magic."

As a way to burn off the added calories, Harry was able to convince the Weasley siblings to a spot of flying. Apparently the Weasley's had a hidden paddock where they could fly without being seeing by the village down below.

They couldn't use real Quidditch balls, which would have been hard to explain if they had escaped and flown away over the village; instead, they threw apples for one another to catch. They took turns riding Harry's Nimbus Two Thousand, which was easily the best broom; Ron's old Shooting Star was often outstripped by passing butterflies.

A couple of hours flying above the setting sky was just what they need to burn off any excess energy they might have had. Percy proved his own skills as a chaser, being able to keep up with his siblings—proving to any that he, like any other Weasley, had Quidditch running in his blood. The surprise for them all was Ginny, who, while small and petite, flew with a speed and disregard for her own life that shocked her own brothers, who had never seen her fly beforehand.

With a fine eye for precision and a relentless speed, Ginny seemed to be cut from the same cloth as her Quidditch-driven siblings.

As such, the group landed and walked toward a much needed shower before ending their fun-filled day.

A quarter past midnight, Harry's emerald green eyes opened suddenly to see the dark room laid with the shadows of Ron's belongings. Looking around, Harry noticed Ron sprawled across his bed, his sheets thrown haphazardly away from his body.

Taking a hold of his wand from its holster, Harry began a series of different spells and wards around himself to ensure that his movements would not be heard by any one…or any animal.

Slowly making his way towards the corner of the room, where Scabbers remained asleep, unaware of the impending wizard. Pointing his wand towards the rat, Harry softly cast the Stunning spell.

A flash of blood red flew across the space between wizard and animal, before hitting the unsuspecting rat on its head, causing the already sleeping animal to enter into a magically forced state of sleep.

Turning around, Harry began a wide circle arc around Rons direction before murmuring the Sleep spell, "Somnus!"

Having heard from Neville about Ron's infamous deep sleeps, Harry did not want to take a chance that Ron would awaken during his midnight incursion. As such, Harry ensured that Ron would remain asleep for the next few hours.

"Alfred!"

With a muted 'pop,' Alfred appeared in the center of Ron's room.

"Make sure to put this rat in the cage I gave you before leaving. Keep it under heavy watch in the manor basement. Make sure that there is enough food and water for the rat. The cage is warded against any Animagus transformation, but we cannot be too certain."

"Yes, master."

"Bring me the dead rat and have it resting here," he ordered, pointing to the same area Scabbers had been laying.

With a snap of his fingers, Alfred summoned the dead rat that he had been ordered to find in order to switch it with Scabbers. Looking no different from Scabbers, Alfred was forced to remove the same toe that the Scabbers rat had lost in order to avoid any suspicions.

His mission a success, Harry found it very difficult to go to sleep.

Time lapse

Harry dark slumber remained undisturbed until a loud and high-pitched scream penetrated through his dreams as Harry woke up to find Ron standing next to the dead 'Scabbers.'

A thunder of footsteps echoed through the staircase as Ron's parents and siblings rushed towards them. With a blast, the bedroom door was opened quite suddenly, revealing both Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in their night robes.

"Ron! What's wrong?!" asked Mrs. Weasley increasingly worried.

"Sc—Scabbers!" Ron stuttered, "He's dead!"

A flush of relief seemed to course through them both as they realized that the boys were safe.

Placing her wand in the pocket of her night robe, Mrs. Weasley came around Ron and gently moved him to sit near the edge of his bed.

"Oh, Ron, Scabbers was an old rat. He wouldn't have lasted much longer."

"I know that but still…he was my first pet…"

Looking downcast, Ron's pale face was streaked with a few tear marks. Looking at him, Harry felt a bit guilty for his role in Ron's grief. He knew that it was necessary, but that did not mean that he enjoyed having caused his own friend to hurt.

"How about I buy you a new pet, Ron?" Harry offered.

Turning to face him, Mrs. Weasley began saying, "Oh, no Harry, that's very generous but we can't simply accept."

"I don't see why not. It can be a belated birthday gift or a very early Christmas gift."

With that distraction, the rest of the Weasley brood made their way back to their respective rooms.

Before long, they all met in the dining room for an incredibly delicious and plentiful feast. Fried eggs, tomatoes, beans, toast with varying jellies, and different juices…well, it was no wonder Ron had such an appetite if this is what he was used to.

Mrs. Weasley would not allow him up from the chair until she was satisfied that he truly was full. Throughout their breakfast, Harry continued to convince Ron and Mrs. Weasley to accept his offer of purchasing a pet for Ron.

Ultimately, the only way he was able to convince them was by stating quite simply that if he didn't accept, Harry would just go and buy him the priciest animal they had in the store and give it to him.

With that success, Harry made his way to Ron's room to collect him belongings. Making his way to the ground floor, Harry was sent off by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron, and the twins.

With a 'Potter Manor' and a swirl of emerald green flames, Harry was whisked back to the safety of Potter Manor once more.

2nd July 1992

Potter Manor

Having decided to give Scabbers time to fret, Harry had enjoyed the rest of the day from his return from the Weasley to sent a missive to Hrothgar, informing him of his success in capturing the rat and asking him to arrange a meeting with both Director Bones and Supervisory Auror Shacklebolt.

The morning after his return saw Harry enjoying a rather fun and delicious breakfast surrounding by his elves and Hedwig. Feasting from fresh fruits and nuts, Hedwig was enjoying her own food as well as Harry was.

Having arrived early in the morning, Hedwig had delivered his reply from Hrothgar after a night of flying.

"Lord Potter,

As per your request, I have sent an urgent owl to Madam Bones and Supervisory Auror Shacklebolt. Upon receipt of their answer, I shall inform you.

Account Manager Hrothgar."

With that settled, Harry began to brew a simple Sleeping potion to ensure that during the remainder of the day, Scabbers would remain asleep and no longer a threat. Taking the better part of an hour and a half, Harry filled a small vial with the Sleeping potion before giving it to Daisy to add to Scabbers' water bowl.

The rest of the was spent in his family's dueling room, located in the basement, opposite where the runestone's room was. It was barren of any decoration, covered by four walls of thick grey stone walls bearing a few scorch marks. In the corner, there were a few mannequins that were enchanted to move in order to avoid getting hit.

A simple animation spell was all that was needing for the mannequins to become animated. As such, for the next few hours, Harry began casting more and more spells in rapid sequence. His goal was to expand his stamina and perfect his aim. Harry knew that, in comparison to his fellow classmates, he was ahead of them all in academics and power, but in the face against a full-fledged witch or wizard…well, then Harry would find himself outclassed.

The issue did not come from his lack of courage or even his lack of knowledge, but rather it was a case of experience versus youth. In a book that covered the intimacies of warfare, Harry read an excerpt that resonated to him.

"Thus we may know that there are five essentials for victory:
He will win who knows when to fight and when not to fight.
He will win who knows how to handle both superior and inferior forces.
He will win whose army is animated by the same spirit throughout all its ranks.
He will win who, prepared himself, waits to take the enemy unprepared.
He will win who has military capacity and is not interfered with by the sovereign."

Taking its teachings to heart, Harry resolved to even out as many of his weakness as he could. Power, speed and precision were things he would be able to improve; experience would come with time, and he knew that by taking the time to train fully, he would find himself better prepared when war fully sprung.

Taking a short shower to freshen himself, Harry noticed a brown owl rested near the window of the Lord's study, treating itself to the treats left behind for Hedwig.

Approaching it, Harry noticed that the seemingly mundane owl looked at him with sharp and piercing eyes, appearing to judge him. Offering his hand, palms extended, Harry waited until the owl deemed him worthy to receive the package in its care.

Unwrapping the package, Harry saw its contents begin to grow in size until the book-size package expanded to display a few books bigger than his head, a black case, and a small black box. Taking ahold of the letter that was left atop of the contents, Harry noticed his own named neatly scribbled in the center of the envelope, 'Lord Harry James Potter."

Unfolding the letter, Harry saw the parchment glow a subtle silver before the wording began to appear in a flowing manner. Written in beautiful penmanship was the following,

"Greetings and well met, Lord Harry James Potter,

As I had promised, attached are a few books that ought to provide knowledge and aid in your endeavor to grow and learn. I have also taken the liberty of gifting you a dagger from my own armory. I was able to take this from a particularly skilled assassin that had been commissioned to steal my Stone and kill me and my wife. Worry not, it had been cleansed of any dark magic and remains a relatively safe weapon to use. It has been enchanted to always return to its sheath and will remain hidden from the eyes of others. Likewise, its charmed to remain forever sharp, it will not rust, nor can it be chipped or broken. Other than its enchantments, the dagger is a simple, yet useful weapon to begin practicing. In my time, I have found that too many wizardfolk have become beholden to their wands and deny themselves the opportunity to learn other methods of warfare. A simple dagger in the right time, wielded by the right person, can be the difference between death and survival. As such, I would caution you to learn its proper usage.

I hope it and the books may serve you well.

Monsignor Nicholas Flamel

Ps. Perenelle would like to extend her own gratitude to you for your service. She has decided to provide you with a single small vial of the Elixir of Life. Use it well."

Beyond shocked, Harry lowered the letter to find this small vial. Secured in the small black box, in a tiny crystal vial was a ruby colored substance that glittered with a magical hue. Turning it, Harry noted that it resembled the liquid form of the Stone he had returned.

Amazed that such a priceless and utterly amazing gift such as the Elixir of Life would be gifted to him, Harry decided to ensure its safety was of the utmost importance. Calling Alfred, Harry had him place it in the secure vault that rested behind the wall of the Lord's study.

Already warded against intruders, the Lord's study was further warded with deadly wards that would serve as a last stand for the Potter family. Within its room, hidden behind the map of the grounds, was a small safe that had been placed by an ancestor who felt that certain valuables should remain in the safety of the family and not in the hands of the goblins.

As such, the small vault was blood sealed, requiring the blood of a Potter to open it. Currently, the vault was empty, free of whatever contents it may have once held. Placing the vial back in the small black box, Harry placed in the center of the vault before closing it.

Returning to look at the dagger, Harry noticed that the sheath was made of some sort of leather, soft yet firm, evidently strong enough to hold the sharpened weapon. It was dark black, without any etching or decorations, it seemed to be nothing more than a mundane sheath.

Removing the dagger, Harry noted that it was long and sharp, the silver blade glinted against the light of the sun. etched near the point of the blade that met the hilt, small runes could be seen permanently resting upon it. It was a double edged dagger, with such a fine point that Harry knew beyond doubt would have required very little strength behind a stab to penetrate the human skin.

Its hilt was made of wood, wrapped in the same type of black leather as the sheath, the pommel was a dull grey. Having been practicing Krav Maga, Harry was unaware of how to properly use it. As such, Harry resolved to ask Hrothgar if there was anyone who he would recommend to train him.

Seeing as the goblins were a warring species, he felt that Hrothgar would be better suited to direct him towards someone capable to teach him how to fight with a dagger.

Perusing through the books provided by Flamel, Harry saw several books regarding the combination of different fields in the battlefield, from how to take control of the environment to your advantage, to how to summon and control the elements, Harry could tell that the knowledge held in this books could mean the difference between his death and survival.

Therefore, Harry settled into the very comfortable chair of the Lord's study and began to read the first book, 'Mastery of the Elements.'