A/N- Thank you Anarion & ObsessedwithHPFanFic for your encouraging words. Hypergym as always I loved reading your review. You read every chapter with attention as is reflected in your comments.

I hope you all like this chapter and do not roast me over something that you do not like in it.

Let's move onwards.

India

Harry was sleeping soundly. Yesterday had been a full day with his adventures gathering the materials to make his wand. He had flown on a bird, battled a Naga, befriended a Thestral and met a Yeti. He had ended the day on a high note after he and the Marauders had talked with each other for quite a while. Harry had told them everything he had learned so far. The marauders had been pleased with his progress. Harry told them that he did not see any major changes in himself. They assured him that he was already doing great and he should continue to work in this vein.

He sat up on his bed spluttering as someone doused him with a heavy jet of water. As he got his bearings, he found Vari grinning at him, his wand levelled towards Harry, "Good morning, Potter. It is time to wake up."

Groggily Harry looked out the window and saw that the sun had not risen yet. He muttered, "Its too early and too cold. Why would anyone go out at this hour?"

The mystic doused him again making him shiver to the core, "I will take no whining from you, Potter. Guruji has asked me to be heavy handed with you, if you are uncooperative with me. Now, you have 10 minutes to get up and join me outside before I come looking for you again."

As he levelled his wand to douse him once more, Harry got up from his bed and ran to the bathroom. After 10 minutes, he was ready for the day with a track suit that Dobby had bought for him and a Weasley jumper which he felt would be necessary in the weather outside and a good pair of running shoes from a renowned brand he had seen Dudley wear sometimes. It was as cold outside as Scotland was in early winter but mercifully it was not snowing. As he came out of his room, someone standing behind the door stunned him from behind.

Five minutes had passed with Harry unconscious before he was innervated. Vari growled at him, "First rule of a mystic, NEVER EVER DROP YOUR GUARD."

Harry sighed. He had been in a hurry to get ready for the mystic and was stunned. If this kept going then it was going to be a long summer. He merely nodded his head, "I will keep it in mind, Mr. Vari."

As he led him out of the castle, Harry saw that it was not even dawn yet but many of the mystics were up and going about their business. Vari took him to the lake he had seen the day he arrived. It was not as big as the black lake but it was big enough for swimming or walking around the lake.

"Start running, Potter", the mystic barked, "I want you to finish 2 rounds around the lake in 20 minutes. Most mystics can do it in 7 minutes but since you are new, I am being lenient with you."

Harry started running. After he had covered about a mile of the lakeshore, he slackened his pace for a second and was immediately rewarded with a stinger from the mystic which made his backside ache and put him into motion again. As Harry finished the second lap and slumped on the ground, the mystic again shot a stinger at him making him yelp and stand despite being exhausted.

The mystic it appeared was not done with him, "Down on your knees and hands, Potter. Start doing push-ups. Get those limbs into action."

After a gruelling hour of push-ups and sit-ups, he was allowed to go and clean up when dawn was close to breaking. When Harry had finished bathing and dressing, having removed all the outward traces of his morning workout, Vari accompanied him to the wand-maker who was sitting in meditating position. Harry kept looking at the ancient man who looked serene and peaceful in that moment with his face relaxed and not showing a trace of worry. 10 minutes later, the wand maker opened his eyes as the first light of the day touched the horizon and grinned seeing Harry there, "Can't wait to try your wand, boy? I suppose the enthusiasm is understandable. Where is your old wand?"

Harry produced the wand Harsh had given him. The mystic immediately discarded that one, "This is not your wand. I can hear it's alignment is slightly out of tune for you."

Harry started retelling the story of the wand Ollivanders had sold to him. How it contained a phoenix feather core and was a twin to Voldemort's wand. The ancient wand maker did not interrupt him but listened attentively all the while until Harry got to the part where his voice hitched telling about the wand being destroyed. He told of how another wand with the same core and wood did not fit him after he woke up.

The wand maker immediately assumed a scholarly demeanour that Harry had seen McGonagall take several times during the last 4 years, "Old Gerrick did not find a compatible wand, eh? That wand was never compatible to you, boy. It was attuned to the soul fragment which was latching itself to you all these years and therefore you could use that wand. When the fragment died, any wand with that core stopped being compatible to you. If you did not had an unwanted guest latching onto you all these years, no wand would have suited you but one."

Harry had been listening attentively to everything the old wand-maker was telling him. He knew a little of wandlore from what Ollivander had told him but this was entirely different and the way the wand maker called Ollivander by his first name made him think that they were on a first name basis with each other. The most astonishing piece was that his old wand never suited him but responded to Voldemort's soul fragment. But did not Shilpagya say something about a wand suiting him? He asked the wand-maker, "Which wand would have suited me?"

The wand maker smiled at the curiosity of the young wizard before him, "The wand of destiny, the elder wand, the death stick. It has many names and has passed through numerous wizards and wrecked havoc wherever it went. It was a Peverell heirloom which was taken from Cadmus Peverell and since then it has changed so many hands that it becomes hard to track it."

He pulled out the wand he had made for Harry and handed it to him. As Harry took it in his hands, his magic started singing to the wand and the air around him started rushing making the wand maker chuckle, "I am sure you will do great deeds with it, boy. Use this well because it is not an ordinary wand. There are only a few of this kind which exist and none of them are in Avalon. Old Gerrick would give his family vault to you to just get his hands on it."

Harry looked closely at the wand and there were runes through the body of the wand which he was sure were not there yesterday. Perhaps the old wand maker had etched them sometime during the night. On the handle of the wand, the animals of his houses were drawn in their order of importance starting with a Thestral followed by a Griffin followed by a Dragon followed by an Adder and lastly a Unicorn. There were a few more animals on the body of the wand with the stag in front then a doe which was in front of a shaggy black dog which was in front of a werewolf. He understood the significance of these animals except for the doe. They were the patroni of James Potter, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin except for the Doe which he could not recognise but he felt they stood for his family. The old wand maker shooed them away before he could ask anything else.

Vari led him to the practice range where he set up a practice dummy about 100 meters away. He told Harry to hit it's right toe nail. Harry was flabbergasted with such a demand. He was fairly accurate in hitting objects but he did not have such pin point precision.

He turned to the mystic, "Mr. Vari, I have never tried to do such a thing. What difference would it make anyway?"

The mystic sighed, "Mr. Potter, a warrior has to be perfect in his wand work so that there are no chances of error on his part. For example you are given one chance and you have to hit at a precise spot on your enemy's body where he is vulnerable, you have no other option but to hit that very spot. Unless you know how to do that, you cannot expect to fulfil the task thus making you fail. It is important to have such an aim that you can hit a moving target blind folded. If you can achieve this, you will be distinct from your peers and enemies. I have heard of you from Guruji and some of your exploits. While you are formidable for your age, you have unrefined talent and lot of raw power which you need to learn to channel properly. You are a warrior despite what others may say."

Harry had no answer to the mystic so he turned towards the dummy and started casting stinging hexes towards the dummy. Most of his hexes were off by a long margin and did not hit the target and some got close but never hit the desired spot. The wand felt comfortable in his hand even more than the holly wand and it felt like a part of his arm. After half an hour of casting, the mystic stopped him, "you are nowhere close, Mr. Potter. Let's change the target for simplicity. You have to hit it in the head for at least 10 times but do not put too much power in your hex. You are causing a dent in the dummy and no one does so with a stinger."

Harry sheepishly smiled, "How will we know if I am hitting the target?"

The mystic actually smiled, "then why don't you use a color spell which would paint it's head in red if you can make contact with it?"

Harry nodded and looking at the head of the dummy, incanted the spell and aimed for the head. In his next 20 attempts, all of his spells hit the mark and the mystic dismissed him after commending him for his aim and telling him to come down anytime in the day and practice his spell casting.

As Harry returned to the castle, Harsh summoned him to his personal chamber. As Harry took it in, he realized that this room had no tapestries or paintings. The bed was a simple straw pallet, similar to what he slept on when he stayed with the Nagas. The only concession to comfort was two simple wooden chairs and a table. As they sat, Harsh asked about his day. Harry wanted to grumble and complain but kept his silence vowing to not give any pleasure to the mystic from his misery.

"Harry." the mystic said, "what do you know of Lords in Avalon?"

Harry hesitated before saying anything. It was a topic which he had thought about a lot in the last few days and had questions to ask. He started, "Griphook told me that it was the hereditary position for a head of a house and every head of house became a lord upon his investment but he also said that there were true lords however he did not explain that. He said you were a lord though and that I should ask you", said Harry frowning.

Harsh began to explain with a calm demeanour, "The word Lord refers to two type of Lords in magic. One is what Griphook had explained to you but the second are those wizards who are extremely powerful and they have following of wizards and witches with them. They become lord for all of them who decide to follow that wizard/witch and the followers are vassals for the said Lord meaning there is a magical bond between them and it is beneficial to both of them. A bond can be formed when one does fealty to a lord or is taken as a willing follower by another with claiming the other's free will like Voldemort does with his followers by branding them like cattle. Whoever is a Lord has an order which is always ready to follow them and are extremely loyal to their lord to the exclusion of the world. The lords can demand a magical oath of allegiance from his vassals or can claim their magic if he feels that they are betraying him. This is as was decreed by mother magic. There are two lords in Avalon right now with their own order- Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore and Tom Marvolo Riddle. The next lord who would arise and outshine both of them will be you."

Harry's mouth was open in surprise in a perfect "O", "but I am an ordinary wizard. I cannot be a Lord like that. It is better this way."

Harsh chuckled at his protests, "you are not ordinary wizard, Harry. You were never ordinary from the moment Voldemort marked you as his enemy. You have tried to be an ordinary wizard from time to time but you will not be ordinary. That is simply not your destiny. You have the destiny of a warrior and a warrior is always renowned. Maybe instead of trying to fit in with others you should use your fame for the betterment of the wizarding world. There is a lot that you can do."

Harry nodded in agreement while thinking of the words that Mr. Weasley had said to him before he had started to India.

"Harry, one of your duties is to learn the manners of purebloods in your country so that you will not appear as out of place when you appear in the Wizengamot since you can assume how people would critically analyze everything that you would do. To this end, I have secured the services of Rachael, who was a talented witch from the minor house of Higgs and has been a mystic for 50 years now. She was friends with your grandfather Charlus and your grandmother Dorea and is ecstatic at the chance of meeting you", Harsh said.

"But why do I have to learn these manners and customs?", Harry asked, "I do not want to be like Malfoy."

"Harry." Harsh said gently, "knowing your heritage would not make you Malfoy. He is too arrogant for his own good but he knows the wizarding manners and customs and it is not amiss to try to learn them. I believe your own mother was fascinated by these customs."

Harry acquiesced finally knowing he had no option but to agree. Harsh was right that there was no harm in learning his manners and customs. If he had grown up with his parents, they would have made him learn those. He should brush up on those manners so as not to make a fool of himself and give the wizarding world more fodder with which to tarnish his reputation.

As they were done with breakfast, Harsh took him to a dungeon within the castle which reminded Harry of the dungeons of Hogwarts. There were shelves full of potion ingredients and cauldrons were simmering and producing bubbles and steams. Harsh handed him over to a mystic who was an anomaly among them. While all the other mystics were warriors by their looks and conduct, this one had a pot belly, was of short height and balding.

"Harry, this is Prathiman, a potions master. He will teach you the fine arts of potion making which I feel has left a lot to be desired under the tutelage if Severus Snape." Harsh said and left the dungeons.

The other man snorted, "Snape? He is a teacher? He is a brilliant potions master and perhaps the youngest in centuries but he is not fit to be a teacher to students who are starting potions. He does not have the temperament for students who have never studied potion making. It requires extreme patience and lot of coaxing the students, gritting your teeth when they make a mistake and all your self control to not to shout at them when things go out of hand. Snape is fit for those who have obtained their OWLs but not young students. He would kill hopes of lots of students who wish to make it to Aurors or Healers due to not being able to brew perfect potions."

Harry said nothing but wondered how true the statement was. The first time Harry had attended the Potions class with Snape, he had done nothing but called his students Dunderheads and told them to start working on the potions without giving them any instructions. He wondered how different things would have been if Snape had taken the time to teach his students about basic steps to be taken before they started brewing potions.

Prathiman turned to Harry, "Mr. Potter, have you studied the Introduction to the delicate art of potion making?"

Harry had not even heard of the said book so he shook his head in reply and Prathiman produced a copy of the book and tossed it to him, "Before tomorrow I want you to finish this book and first five chapters of magical herbs and fungi. We cannot start this before you know what you are working with. Harry nodded and was about to leave when Prathiman said, "Since you are here and I have your charge for the next few hours, let's discuss your experiences in Potions so far. I sometimes crave company of people who would not just talk about battle or business. I have not taught in a school or untrained minds for years now."

Harry asked him, "Have you taught at a magical school, Mr. Prathiman?"

The mystic said, "Since we are going to be in contact with each other for weeks to come I will call you Harry and you can call me Sir?"

Harry nodded, "I would like that."

The mystic started again, "To answer your question I was a potion master at the Takshila School of magic. I taught there for years before one of the faculties turned out to be a dark lord who was after me to obtain a rare potion and I had to run away. The mystics saved me and brought me here. Since then I have not left."

Harry's curiosity was piqued, "Where is Takshshila School of magic? I have never heard of it."

The mystic's eyes had taken a gleam that Harry knew too well. It was the gleam which one had when they talked about something they loved. The mystic started telling, "the Takshshila School is situated on the other side of the Himalayas somewhere in North East direction. It is unplottable like Hogwarts and I am not going to disclose it to you. The students are collected by Flying Carriages for the school and they are allowed to let go home in a month at the end of year. We have a high population of wizards and we figure in the top five in terms of wizarding power index in the world. The average for India stands at 120 which is equal with Japan and slightly above China with the US leading with a little margin. Wizarding Britain was once among the top of the list but the inferior treatment of muggle borns and half bloods coupled with inbreeding has reduced its standing. It is a shame that the muggle borns are treated as inferior when they are nothing but children of squibs."

"What!." Harry gasped, "They are from wizarding families? But we surely would have been told about this. There is no way that they can keep it secret."

The mystic ruefully smiled at him, "This research is classified but has been proved to be impeccable with time and again. Any muggle born wizard or witch is child of a squib or squibs on both sides. After all, magic has to come from somewhere. But that does not mean that every muggleborn is half blood or pure-blood."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, confused.

The mystic started again, "A family is said to go extinct if all of its members die leaving no one to carry the name forward or there are no magical descendants left but squibs. Since squibs do not have magic, they cannot claim lordship of a house. But if a magical descendant appears in a family within 5 generations of the last magical descendant, then he or she can claim the lordship or ladyship of the house. If a wizard is more than 5 generations removed from the last magical ancestor, they are considered muggle born."

This gave Harry a lot to think about but before he could dwell on it any more the mystic interrupted again, "So, Harry humour me with the experience of your first potions class?"

Harry started telling him about the first class as to how Snape entered the dungeon sneering, cloak billowing behind him, lip curling as he called Harry's name off the register, and the questions that he had asked him. As he finished telling the story, the potions master looked at him curiously, "So, did you ever work out the message he gave you in those questions?"

"What message?" asked Harry, confusion showing on his face and in his demeanour.

"He asked you what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to infusion of wormwood which in itself is an innocuous question but in the Victorian flower language it means I bitterly regret Lily's death" the potions master replied, "Interest choice of words but nonetheless ingenious."

Harry's mind was reeling but he said nothing willing his expression to be neutral. He had started to try to be impassive in his expressions which he had seen many people do. He assumed it was some kind of mask that people adopted.

As they talked, the Potions master gave him many handy tips which made him regret that he had not brought a parchment with him to write it all down. After two hours, they were done and Harry went into search of Harsh who was at the practice field where the mystics were practicing sword play. As he arrived, one of the mystics handed him a sword which felt odd in his hand. It was a long sword and light but the length of the sword made it difficult for him to wield it. As he stood there clutching the sword in his hand, one mystic (he remembered he was named Anal) charged at him with a sword forcing him to raise his sword hastily to parry the shot which was aimed at his neck. As he stopped the blow, the mystic kicked him in the chest knocking him to the ground and immediately started to bring the sword down on him forcing him to roll away.

"Halt!" Harsh's deep voice rang out and Anal put the sword to his side and picked up Harry. "Have you no experience in sword play, Harry?" the mystic asked him.

He shook his head, his heart still thudding in his rib cage. The mystic had him at his mercy and would have injured him if Harsh had not stopped him.

"How did you kill Salazar's monster?" Harsh asked, "I distinctly remember Albus telling me that you had used Godric's sword to slay it."

As Harsh was talking, a murmur arose in the crowd which was gathered around and some of the mystics even gave him a respectful nod.

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and replied, "I had a lot of luck on my side. Dumbledore's phoenix had blinded the basilisk and I drove the sword through its mouth killing it."

"Harry, none of your feats was pure luck. You have skill and power to perform those feats. You only needed a little help. I have told you that you should not sell yourself short." Harsh admonished him before he continued, "Anal is an expert in weaponry and he has the task to teach you to use sword, a bow, dagger and the rules of magical combat."

"Why would I need to learn sword play?", Harry asked.

"Because Harry sword play is something that helps your body to grow up at accelerated pace, not to mention you can channel your magic through these weapons and if for some reason you lose your wand in a duel then it can come handy. No death eater would expect you to know sword play", Harsh replied, "I remember Godric using that sword of his to dispatch many of his enemies in a battle where his wand had been taken from him."

Harry was fascinated to hear of the feats of a founder, "What kind of wizard was he? Was he noble as we all think him to be?"

Harsh chuckled, "He was a mage, Harry. He was a fighter who could fight all day long and yet remain standing. He was the fiercest of all the founders and it was primarily due to this reason that bravery is a trait often associated with him."

As Harry readied again to practice sword play Anal showed him how to properly grip the sword and the stance to take before beginning to parry with an adversary, "Keep some space between your feet Harry and the sword at your side clutched tight in your hand but not too rigidly and to swing it in a fluid motion. Today we will not spar with each other but you will practice the movements which I have just showed you."

So it was that Harry spent an hour slicing the air with his sword or tried to practice blocking strikes from an imaginary enemy. After an hour, his hand felt like lead and his legs were aching from being in battle stance for an hour. The mystics were brutal masters but he had no other option than to trust them.

As it neared lunch, Harsh led him to the kitchens where some mystics were preparing food by themselves. The kitchen was spacious and reminded him of the Hogwarts kitchen. There were no elves serving here. The mystics did the work.

"You like the kitchen, Harry?", Harsh asked.

"Yeah" Harry replied absent mindedly, "It's huge and warm. But why are we here?".

"Because we are going to take our lunch here", Harsh announced and sat at a table which was set for them.

As Harry sat, Harsh offered him some dish which he had never eaten before. Harry picked it up and as he took a bite, he turned into a canary and Harsh burst out laughing. After some time, the feathers all molted off of Harry. Harsh was guffawing at his expressions, Harry tried to look indignant but soon gave up. The mystic had not harmed him anyway but only pranked him.

"Has nothing registered into your brain yet, Harry?" Harsh asked him, "You are so willingly trusting of anyone that you immediately took the cream and ate it. Messer's Weasly & Weasley would be disappointed that you fell prey so easily. They had put a bet of 10 Galleons with me that you will realise that the cream was hexed and not eat it."

"You bet on me?" Harry gaped, "but why did you do that?"

"Two reasons." Harsh smirked, "first was that it gave me a chance to prank you and lighten your mood which was turning gloomy and second to beat it into your mind that you should not be so trusting unless you are extremely sure that the other person is who they claims to be."

He taught a rather simple detection spell to him which he could used to detect simplest of poisons or if anybody had tampered with his food or drink and bade him to use it every time he sat down to eat.

After lunch, Harsh gave him a journal which was made of parchment and had a mystic emblem on top of it, "This is a journal that we give to every mystic. You can use it to record everything that you think is worth knowing and it will never finish. It becomes a treasure for coming generations with the amount of knowledge contained within the pages."

"Guruji, why do we use parchment.", Harry asked, "the muggles use ordinary paper and it is much easier to write on and their pens are easier to use than quills."

Harsh just smiled for a moment, then said, "This is the difference between a muggle raise wizard and a wizard who has been brought up in wizarding family. The parchment can keep for years without getting damaged and it is easier to scribble on it with a quill. As the ink on the parchment fades, it can be renewed with a spell but ordinary pages like muggles use cannot hold when we use magic on them and tend to crumble or burn down."

Harry nodded his head. As he had thought, everything that the wizarding world did, they did for a good reason. He had tried to ask the question of a few others but no one else had been able to give a satisfactory answer. The mystic gave him answers which made sense to him and quenched his thirst for knowledge.

While he was no Hermione, he was a curious person. He tried to act like he did not care so that Hermione would not think that he was competing with her and Ron would not be jealous of him. Perhaps it was time that he should try to be his best rather than part of the crowd.

As they were talking, they arrived at a house which was tastefully decorated. The door was intricately carved with a snidget engraved on it. Harsh knocked on the snidget and a woman opened the door. The woman reminded him of someone though he was not sure who. She had blond hair, grey eyes, thin lips, and the lines around her eyes told him that she was used to laughing often. She looked like a happy version of McGonagall without the stern demeanour the transfiguration professor often had and much younger.

"Harry." she exclaimed and immediately hugged him, "oh you are so much like Dorea. You have Charlus's face with her features just like your father did."

"You knew my father?", Harry asked eagerly.

"Of course I did" she replied kindly, "I was with Dorea in Hogwarts and left Wizarding Britain around the time that Grindelwald arose. I went back once when your father was born but that was the last I saw of them. Soon you-know-who came along and my family sided with him. Being a mystic I could not be seen mixing with them. In fact they told me that I was not welcome if I was not supporting their dark lord."

"Your family?" Harry asked.

"The Higgs family", she spat, "my loving family who are all embroiled in dark arts. My nephew's grandson would have been in Hogwarts around your time."

Harry was reminded of the first Quidditch match when he had swallowed the snitch and the Slytherin seeker, Terrence Higgs. He muttered, "Yeah, I met him first year and defeated him in my first quidditch match."

She laughed and invited them in. As they entered Harsh addressed her, "Rachael, Harry here is a pureblood but was brought up by muggles. I want you to teach him the ways of wizards and by the time he is ready to leave, I want him to look like the perfect pureblood. This way, he would be able to take of some support from Voldemort's followers."

She nodded her head. "Harry would you please stand up?", she asked him sternly.

He stood nervous of the woman who had suddenly adopted a strict demeanour.

She looked at him critically noticing the flaws in his posture and shook her head, "we have a lot to do, Harry. Your grandfather Charlus was such an imposing presence in the wizarding world. You will need to work very hard to reach that level."

Harry sighed. Ever since he had come to the mystics they had been giving him more and more work to do. He would be lucky if he could leave within a month. He had started to miss Wizarding Britain and thought of how his friends would be having fun on their vacations. Ron would be at the Burrow playing quidditch and lazing around. The twins would be having fun inventing things and making things for the shop they had been planning forever. Hermione would be off on vacation with her parents. Susan would be at her manor having fun with her friends who would be coming over. Neville would be having a great time bonding with his parents and being showered with parental love that he never got.

Cottage on the hill

This morning as the students arrived, they were sent on their morning run by Alastor Moody who was visibly in a bad mood. As they ran, he shot stinging hexes at those who slackened their pace anytime during the run. All of them had welts by the time they finished three laps around the property line. As they sat panting, Moody started raining down hexes on them to get them on their feet and start doing push ups till they drop. After an hour when they were done with exercise everyone was cursing Moody under their breath for the Old Auror was venting his frustrations on them.

As they were done, he immediately put them in teams to duel him. As they all discussed strategy to win, he apparated away making them groan. They all scattered in twos to find him and subdue him.

The first pair to confront him was the twins who had found him near the property line. As they started firing hexes and curses at him. He immediately disillusioned himself and stunned one of them while the other started casting hexes in all directions for a few seconds before he realised that perhaps the grizzled old auror was gone. As he bent to revive his twin, he found himself dangling by one ankle and lost consciousness soon.

The second pair were Ron and Hermione who were behind the house on the property with their backs to each other, their wands out and spells ready to cast. While they looked, Moody suddenly appeared out of thin air before Hermione, shot a stunner at her which she took on her shield. He was gone again before she could react.

Then he appeared beside Ron who immediately shot a stunner at Moody which he barely dodged. In that moment Hermione started raining down on him while Neville, Susan and Ginny ran towards them. Moody was shielding more than dodging, his wooden leg restricting his movements somewhat. He transfigured a stone into a dog and animating it, set it on Ron. Ron had to defend himself against the animation and that distracted Hermione for a crucial moment. Moody cast a wide area stunner and took both of them out. He was gone again before the other three could reach him.

Neville immediately took charge and got the three of them standing with their backs to each other. Moody seemed to have read their strategy and did not appear as he had done with Hermione and Ron. Instead they felt the temperature was rising and they saw a wall of fire approaching them. This fire was different from ordinary fire in the sense that it was much hotter like an inferno and they could see a dragon in the fire which looked menacing with his fangs bared, thundering towards them. Susan tried to use Aguamenti but it proved futile because water evaporated before it fell on the fire and there was no other means to control it. As it advanced on them, suddenly a giant phoenix made of water charged towards the dragon from behind them and engaged the beast. The two creatures fought for minutes before the phoenix was able to subdue the dragon and it took a few more minutes before the dragon finally dissipated.

They turned to find Dumbledore with his wand out, his eyes cold and his face drawn into a murderous looking expression., "Alastor!", he roared, "Alastor, show yourself."

Alastor Moody appeared before them, looking tired and said gruffly, "Albus, whatever is the matter?"

"Alastor, why did you use fiendfyre on them? Do you not realise that they are school students who have no means to control it or counter it?", he asked coldly, his magic hugging him like a cloak, fierce red in color.

"Albus, they need to know what they are facing. A death eater would not shower them with stunners or stingers", he grumbled.

"That may very well be, Alastor," Albus said sternly, "but; you are forbidden from using dark spells against the students. This is where I am drawing the line for you."

Alastor grumbled but nodded in agreement. Minerva took over for the rest of the day asking them to start doing all the transfigurations that they had practiced in the last four years to get a handle on their understanding before she started to ask them how these could be used in battle.

Ministry of Magic

Cornelius Fudge was feeling miserable. In the last few days, Dolores Umbridge had taken it upon herself to investigate how Sirius Black had got his trial. She had the belief that Cornelius had made some sort of backdoor deal with Sirius Black even if there was no proof.

She had risen through the ranks very quickly for a talentless witch. Fudge knew that this was because she had dirt on everyone in the ministry. He had chosen her for the position as his senior under-secretary on the recommendations of some of his old friends who simply wanted her off their hands. While she was efficient in getting work done, she was a cruel witch who had no hesitation in resorting to illegal means to harm anyone. She also had some dirt on Fudge which was rather nasty and that was the chief reason that Fudge could not get rid of her no matter how much he wanted to do so.

When he had passed educational decree number 22 last week, he was sure that he could pawn Dolores off on Dumbledore as the new Hogwarts defense teacher and his spy. But that hope had been dashed when Dumbledore arrived this morning and gleefully told Fudge that he had found a replacement for the position of defense professor and that the ministry did not need to bother themselves with it. Cornelius could not do anything about it. The legislation was passed last week with a lot of arm twisting and favour calling from some old friends but now Amelia Bones and through her Dumbledore was calling the shots. He was sure that Amelia was working alongside Dumbledore behind the scenes. The way things were going, he feared his days as the minister were numbered.

Another concern of his was how the ministry was undergoing rapid changes. This morning all the department heads had issued directions to their departments. They were assessing the performance of all their subordinates, giving them promotions or demoting them as they deserved. While it looked all good, many muggle-born and half-blood were now in powerful positions in the ministry while purebloods were shifted to menial positions. Another pattern that he noticed was that all those who were shifted to menial positions were those whose families had ties with you-know-who in the last war. Perhaps he was being paranoid but he could feel that this was all Dumbledore's doing.

"Minister" his secretary called, "Madam Bones is here to see you."

He straightened in his chair before telling his secretary to let her enter. Amelia strode into his office looking like a thunder cloud, lightning and all, "Cornelius, did you send Dementors to muggle London?"

Cornelius gaped in shock and stuttered, "I... I didn't.. send Dementors. They are bound to Azkaban. Why would they go to muggle London?"

"Then explain to me how four dementors found their way to Little Whinging and that too the vicinity of Harry Potter's muggle relatives!", she roared at him.

He cowered in his seat, "Trust me Amelia, I had nothing to do with it". "Is Harry Potter safe?," he asked after a moment's silence knowing that if something happened to the boy-who-lived, the public would flay him alive.

"Harry Potter's relatives are out of the country somewhere and it is presumed that Harry Potter is enjoying his summer vacation with them but a dozen muggles lost their souls before the Wizarding patrol could drive away those abominations. The department of Magical accidents and catastrophes had to perform a lot of obliviations", she said tersely.

Finally he was able to calm himself down, "Amelia would you please investigate this incident and submit a report to me when you find out who is responsible for this outrage?"

She smirked, "I have already concluded the investigation Cornelius and I have a warrant for the arrest of Dolores Jane Umbridge for unauthorised use of Dementors. I just had to make sure that you had not authorized the attack before executing this warrant."

Cornelius could not have looked happier than he did in that moment when he happily signed the warrant authorising use of Veritaserum on Umbridge.

Adrishpuram

As Harry was released from Rachael's care, he was accosted by Pawan who asked him to accompany him to a room which reminded Harry of a Hogwarts classroom. There were many other recruits there who were grown up men and women which made it uncomfortable for him but he did not complain. As he took a seat, Pawan appeared in the teacher's position.

He surveyed Harry for a moment before he started teaching them about Runes. He asked Harry, "What are Runes, Mr. Potter?"

Harry stood, "they are magical symbols which are used in making wards."

The mystic smirked, "Runes are much more than that Mr. Potter. They are embodiment of the language of magic. They represent symbols which are used in place of enchantments generally to make them ever lasting or for other purposes such as making wards etc."

Harry nodded in agreement listening with rapt attention. The mystic was explaining about languages to them, "There are seven major languages in which runes are drawn however we employ another language to draw our runes. For the first month, we will deal with the seven languages."

He then went on to explain the languages to them for the rest of the lesson. As Harry was leaving, he asked him to find a copy of the runes introductory books in his trunk. Harry wondered just how many books had Sirius packed into his trunk. He found the book and read ahead for his lessons. The mystic was not going to ask him to submit essays but reading ahead would be helpful to grasp the subject.

Harry nodded and went on to find Harsh when he was cornered by Achala who was one of the two female instructors assigned to him. She took him to another class where he was the sole student.

"Mr. Potter", she began, "Are you interested in charms?"

"Harry please", he said, "Mr. Potter sounds so formal and makes me think that I am about to get detention. I like charms."

"Harry it is then", she replied, "which is the most powerful charm that you can perform?".

"The patronus charm", he replied confidently.

She smiled at him encouragingly, "That is quite some skill, Harry. Can I see it?"

Harry smiled and whipping his wand, he intoned, "Expecto Patronum!"

Immediately a four legged creature burst out of his wand. He was surprised to see that it was not the great stag. It was about as big as Prongs but it had claws instead of hoofs, whiskers like a cat and looked like a Leopard but Harry was sure it was not an ordinary leopard like he had seen in muggle primary books.

Achala exclaimed, "A snow leopard!"

"Sorry," he said, "what is a snow leopard?"

She explained to him, "A snow leopard is native to the Himalayas and they are considered to be the topmost predator. They are as big as a lion and equally ferocious however these days they are considered as endangered by the IUCN, a muggle organization which keeps watch on animals which are going extinct, endangered or vulnerable."

Harry was disappointed a bit and she noticed this, "what happened, Harry? Why are you disappointed?"

So it was that Harry explained to her how his patronus used to be Prongs which was his dad's animagus form and how seeing it changed was like he had lost a connection to his father.

As he finished telling, she started, "that is understandable Harry but may be this means that you are becoming your own man. Your parents are never gone from you Harry but they are in your heart. Whenever you will look for them in your heart, you will find them there."

Harry smiled but said nothing not trusting himself not to choke on his own words.

She continued, "You have power and skill Harry but you will have no use for a patronus here."

"What do you mean?", he asked.

"We do not use the patronus against dementors, Harry", she smirked, "we kill them. I can teach you to use your patronus to send messages though."

Harry was dumbfounded with this revelation. To be able to kill a dementor was a skill to have. He resolved to obtain that by whatever means possible. After a gruelling session in which he practiced every charm that he had ever learned, he was dismissed.

As he stepped out, he was grabbed by Ambar for transfigurations. She also had him demonstrate every transfiguration he had ever learned. When that was done, she had him read ahead in the same book which Professor McGonagall used in her classes.

By the time Harry left the last class, he was so tired that the corridor floor was starting to look like a nice, soft place to lay down and sleep. That was when Harsh summoned him to dinner.

Eating was not Harry's first priority. He could hear his bed calling him. When his food was served, he neglected to use the detection spells which Harsh had taught him at lunch. With the first morsel that he ate, his hands became led like and his body became so heavy that he could not move it. As he sat fuming at the mystic, Harsh was rolling on the floor clutching his stomach laughing.

After a few moments he picked himself up and administered an antidote to Harry, "You forgot a lesson I gave you just this noon. The twins are going to be so cross with you. The Galleons are weighing against them."

Harry said nothing but did the detection spell and found that only one of the items was hexed. Asking for it to be replaced, he ate in silence before Harsh dismissed him for the night with instructions to complete the work that he was given during the day.

By the time Harry made his way to his room, it was all he could do to fall on the bed, face first, and pass out.

Bones Manor

Susan arrived home tired and frightened from the ordeal of the day. Mad-eye must have been out of his head to show fiendfyre to them.

Last year when she heard that he had shown the three unforgivables to the Slytherins and Gryffindors, she had thought that he had lost his mind, but; that turned out to be an impostor. She knew Mad-eye had no hesitation in using any of the unforgivables but he drew the line at showing them to others who were not Aurors. Fiendfyre was a different matter altogether. She had been scared when the roaring wall of fire came towards them.

"Susie, are you alright?", Amelia asked her as she saw the faraway look in her niece's eyes.

"Yes Auntie", she replied.

"I brought your heir ring from the vault", Amelia said, "I want you to wear it."

Susan remembered that last night, Amelia wanted her to take the ring. They were not able to find the ring anywhere in the Manor. Amelia figured that they had returned the ring to the Bones vault when Edgar had taken on the mantel of Lord of House Bones. She had promised that she would bring the ring from the vaults when she returned from the ministry.

Amelia fished out the ring from inside of her robes. It was laid on a bed of soft silk in an ornately decorated wooden box. The ring was a Platinum band topped by an Opal with a common welsh green etched on it. Susan was apprehensive about being the heiress but she knew that she would have to take the seat. She picked up the ring and thought about everything that was going on in the world. Circumstances were dire, they all were in danger and everyday that passed made them more vulnerable. When the war came, there would be a lot of death, grief and strife. She needed to stay strong for Harry who would be in the centre of things and being his betrothed she would need to stand tall despite her own fears. Susan was sorted into Hufflepuff for a reason. The Hat had told her that loyalty was one of the qualities which was an endearing trait of the chosen ones of Helga and Susan was not about to abandon anyone now. If it required her to take on the mantel of heiress of Bones, she would do it.

As she took the ring and put it on her ring finger she felt her magic reacting to its presence, and the pressure on her body as the ring scanned her was tremendous. She gritted her teeth so that she would not pass out. After a few moments of agonizing pain the pressure receded and Amelia was smiling at her looking proudly on her. As Susan stood straight, she hugged her, "Congrats Susie. You did it."

Longbottom Castle

Frank and Alice were sitting in their chairs at the window gazing into the distance when Frank felt the wards flare suddenly. He knew that Augusta or Neville did not apparate to the property but floo in. He instructed his elf Marty to protect them if it turned out to be someone who had bad intentions toward them.

After they had waited for a few minutes, the door to the chamber opened and Algernon Kroaker walked in followed by Neville.

"Hello Uncle Algie" said Frank, smiling as Kroaker crossed the room at a run to embrace his nephew in a heartfelt embrace, "Oh Frankie, We missed you so much", the unspeakable murmured.

"Good to see you too, Algernon." said Alice, grinning at the unspeakable, "can you tell me why my son looks so morose and why he did not floo in as usual?"

Kroaker who had controlled his emotions by now, grinned, "that would be because I am teaching him to apparate. This was the first time that I took him by side along apparition with me. He is feeling nauseous from the first time effects."

"And exactly why are you teaching him that?", she narrowed her eyes, "my son still has time to learn it."

Kroaker cringed at her demeanour but held his ground, "There is a war coming Alice and we need to teach him everything to ensure his survival. In the last war, we had warriors on our side but this time around, there are not many followers."

"But uncle Algie,", Frank interrupted, "if you teach him all the fun stuff what will I do?"

Kroaker sighed, "you have enough to do as it is. Getting yourself back into top form is the most important thing followed by making alliances. We have had our warning and we will be better prepared this time."

"So exactly what have you already taught him?", Frank asked.

"I got my hands on this one just this morning", Kroaker said, "He was sleeping, completely oblivious, without even a basic alert ward to guard him."

Frank laughed, "Last I checked you were not Mad-eye, were you uncle? You are acting like him."

"Frankie, the wards at Green Hues would not hold for too long if someone employed a ward device and I remember the Lestranges had one. If they were to turn it over to You-know-who, his followers would enter without any hindrances", he finished gravely.

"But aren't the Lestranges in Azkaban?", asked Frank, "Mother told us that they were sentenced to life in the Azkaban Prison."

"That they are, but their father Rolondo escaped the Ministry last time and he is still posturing openly as a supporter of the Dark", Kroaker explained, "so I am teaching skills to survive and fight. Besides Apparition can be good in a duel if you know how to negate the wards set by someone."

Frank nodded, "Uncle Algie, would you answer my questions?", he asked, "Mother has been very strict in refusing me any answers."

Algernon just grinned, "I am not one to try and cross that old battle-axe, Frankie. I do not want her to come after me."

India

Harry again woke up to a cold shower, curtesy of Vari. Coughing and spluttering, he sat up and was met with a glaring mystic who had his wand levelled at him with water dripping from its tip., "Wake up, Potter. We have not got all day. Meet me outside within 10 minutes." he barked and Harry flew into action. He was not sure why but the mystic reminded him of Moody in a bad mood. As he exited his room, he was mindful of raising a shield as he remembered the incident from yesterday and did not want to be on the wrong end of his wand again.

After 10 minutes, he was running around the lake, this time being encouraged to be faster with all the stinging hexes that the mystic was firing at him. As he was done running, he dropped on all fours and started doing push-ups until he fell from exhaustion. As he proceeded to the training range, his muscles aching from the exertion of the last two days, weary from not getting enough sleep, he was walking zombie-like when the hair on the back of his head stood up. He ducked hoping to avoid the curse he knew was coming. Too late! He realised his mistake too late as a stunner knocked him out.

He was enervated after a few minutes with the mystic grinning at him, "I knew the trick you would do, Potter. I have heard how sensitive you are to magic and the default reaction you have in those situations. You will have to do better Potter."

Harry snapped, "I would do better if I were allowed to get enough rest."

The mystic smirked at him, "I told you yesterday and I am warning you for the final time today, Potter. I will not keep up with your whining. You may be a hero to the wizarding Britain but here you are just another wizard to like us and you will live by our rules."

Harry said nothing knowing another spat with the mystic may lead him into some trouble but he decided to raise the issue with Harsh later.

As they reached the training range, the mystic conjured two dummies, "they will be firing low powered bone breakers at you, Potter. You will not use any shield but dodge those curses. It will continue until an hour has passed or you are unable to continue."

Harry grimaced but had no chance to protest before the dummies started raining down on him and he was forced to dodge. It was as if the dummies could read his mind and while he would dodge one, the other would fire in the direction he was going. This kept him thinking and running around continuously while trying to evade the curses. After about 15 minutes when his aching muscles finally had enough, he stumbled for a moment and a bone breaker hit him in the leg. Then he fell down clutching the leg.

The mystic who had been standing at the side, stopped the dummies. He started working his wand and casting healing spells at Harry which he recognised from spending years under Madam Pomphrey's care. The only strange thing was that the mystic was using a language which Harry did not know but recognised as Hindi or rather some ancient form of it. As the mystic finished repairing the bones, hepulled a vial of potion and forced it down Harry's throat. A few minutes later, Harry Potter fell asleep.

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