The first thing Harry felt was the crisp morning air on his nose. He moved the covers over his face in a futile attempt to grasp at the ebbing tide of sleep. It was too early and his weary bones needed rest.

The second thing he felt was the dark bruises and sweltering burns he'd received the previous day. Any movement sent pain shooting throughout his body. He should have gone to the hospital wing yesterday, but the rush of adrenaline and excitement had numbed the pain. He was certainly feeling the pain now.

The last thing Harry felt made the other two feelings drift away. The cool touch of metal shifting with his weight brought memories of yesterday's accomplishment to the forefront of his mind. Harry knew without looking that it was the golden egg. People might've thought that sleeping with an egg was creepy, but he didn't care. He had fought tooth and nail (literally) for this shiny golden clue. They could deal with it.

The Gryffindors had partied the night away. Any animosity they had held towards their champion had disappeared with his thrilling victory. The cheers had begun as Harry walked into the common room and didn't stop; not for the egg's ear-piercing shriek, not for his and Ron's embarrassing make-up, nor for Professor McGonagall when she came in and told them all to go to bed. Nothing could lower their spirits.

Harry grinned at the memory and shrugged off his covers. His day was already looking better than the past few weeks combined. He quickly got dressed and walked down to the Great Hall with the golden egg secure in his bag. Some would call him attached, and well, he was. There was something about risking your life for something that creates that sort of attachment. Needless to say, the egg was not leaving his sight anytime soon.

As he walked down the corridors Harry was greeted by random students. He was relieved to find that the 'POTTER STINKS' badges were few and far between. He only spotted the Slytherins and a few Hufflepuffs still wearing them. It was the first time in weeks that he made it to the Great Hall without any insults or snide remarks. He landed in his seat with a smile. He felt an eager tap on his shoulder and turned to find Colin Creevey asking for another autograph.

"Maybe later, Creevey. I want to eat breakfast first," he placated.

"Bugger off, mate," Ron yelled at the third year. "You already have enough to fill a scrapbook."

Colin scampered off, but not before giving Harry an admiring look.

Hermione scoffed at Ron. "And who's the one who offered to give him one for a galleon?" she accused. Ron gave her a sheepish grin.

"Well there is a Hogsmeade trip coming up," Ron replied.

Hermione rolled her eyes and continued reading the Daily Prophet.

"Anything good in there?" Harry asked, chewing on a slice of bacon.

"Nothing new to report," Hermione answered from behind the newspaper. "Though there is an interesting piece on the use of troll bogies in cosmetic products."

Ron scrunched his nose. "Who in their right mind-"

"Joking, Ronald!" Hermione called back with a smirk.

Harry shook his head at the pair and continued his breakfast. After taking another bite of bacon, he noticed a snowy owl staring at him.

"Hedwig! Sorry, I didn't notice you there," he greeted.

"She's just been sitting there since I got here," Ron commented. "Doesn't even have a package."

Hermione put the newspaper down. "You do realize what time of year it is, right?" Hermione asked. "Your family might have sent over something with ectoplasm that we cannot see. I read in Properties of Advanced Potion Ingredients that ectoplasm is a very volatile substance that has a tendency to disappear and reappear at will. This could be the case here." She looked around the hall cautiously, hand twitching towards her wand.

Harry shuddered at the thought of his fickle classmates turning on him with the introduction of the Fenton's family dinner. Scouring the area, he was relieved to find that there were no signs of ectoplasmic contamination.

He gave Hedwig a quizzical look. Why was she here if she didn't have anything to give him? She only returned his looks with an accusatory glare.

"Doesn't look too happy, does she?" Ron asked.

"No," Harry agreed. "Hedwig? Do you have something for me?"

He got no response from her, only a glare.

"Did you have a good trip?" Harry tried to ask. "I hope Jazz wasn't too mad when she read my letter…""

Silence. Though she couldn't talk, her eyes said enough.

Harry wavered. "Look, I know it was harsh, but I needed her to stop what she was doing. Sending that letter… it was the only way."

The bird wouldn't budge. Harry sighed in resignation. There was no reasoning with her when she got like this.

"Well, I'm thinking of sending Sirius a letter soon. I'll stop by the Owlery when I'm ready to have y-OUCH!" Hedwig bit his fingers angrily before flying away. "Fine, I'll get someone else to do it," he grumbled, rubbing his sore fingers.

"You said it yourself, Harry," Hermione interjected. "Hedwig has loyalties with your family. She probably didn't appreciate your letter home." She looked around the table and hesitated. "They, er, probably didn't either, seeing how we are not currently under attack from a glowing flapjack."

"Thanks, Hermione. Real helpful you are," Harry muttered. He wasn't surprised that Hermione had figured out his family's counterintuitive love language. He was just glad he didn't have to fight off any glowing food this early in the morning.

"Helped you with the First Task, didn't I?" Hermione beamed with pride.

"And I'm eternally in your debt."

Not one to be left out, Ron coughed, "I helped too. You wouldn't have even known about the dragons without my message." Harry sputtered at the audacity, but Ron ignored him. He looked around the room with a fond smile. "You know, I kind of miss fighting your family's crazy mutations each year. Think they'll send one over if I ask?"

"Careful what you wish for. Danny would send you something as large as Hagrid's pumpkins just to spite you," Harry joked.

Ron shuddered at the thought. "Kid doesn't like me much, does he?"

Harry's smile wavered. He offered a shrug. "It's more that he doesn't like magic. I wouldn't take it personally."

"If you say so."

Hermione fidgeted with the newspaper. Harry knew by her expression she was about to say something he didn't want to hear. "Harry, I think you should talk to your family when you go home after the Yule Ball. It's not good to leave it the way things are. You need to clear the air before it gets worse than it already is."

"I already told them I was staying here for Christmas," Harry replied, shrugging the comment off. "Besides, I think their lack of a reply was a response enough. They don't want me there and I don't want to be there. It's a win-win." The look on Hermione's face told him she didn't agree.

"I'm only saying that if you let things go long enough, you might not have the chance to make it better."

Harry frowned. "I know what I'm doing, Hermione."

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but Ron, who had been distracted by the entrance of the Beauxbatons, decided to speak what was on his mind. "I don't suppose you know who you are taking to the Yule Ball, do you, Harry?"

Hermione glared at Ron for the interruption, but Harry was happy to move the conversation elsewhere.

"Not yet, have you?"

Vlad watched as the caskets were placed in the ground. Three dirt piles for three graves. A beautiful obsidian headstone with white engravings was placed over the graves of Jack and Madeline Fenton while a white marble headstone with black engravings was placed above Jasmine Fenton's. The snow, save for a few ice patches here or there, had melted, signifying the absence of the last Fenton member. It appeared that the boy had fled the town.

Vlad had searched for the whereabouts of the orphan, Harry Potter, but came up empty. He shouldn't have been surprised. The newspaper article Daniel had left suggested that Harry was not the scrawny prepubescent nuisance he had originally thought. The boy held secrets, many of them. Weighing of wands? Minister of Magic? This was new. Huge. He was getting a clearer understanding of who the boy was and the obvious disconnect he had witnessed from the Fenton family in recent years.

They had just finished placing Jazz's casket in the ground. Wherever this Harry was, he wouldn't learn of his pseudo-family's demise until he returned home. Vlad had every intention of being there when he did. Not only did the Fenton's leave Harry in his care, but he had suspicions. If Daniel could not gain control of his core, then there was a good chance, consciously or subconsciously, that he had gone to find his last remaining family member.

But those were thoughts for another time.

Vlad looked on as a priest read from the Bible. He had always known he would outlive Jack. He frequently fantasized about the funeral and how it would go.

His sweet Madeline would be heartbroken with grief as she clung to him during the proceedings. He would comfort her and show her that she could rely on him. A friend in her time of need, so to speak. Daniel would probably sulk in the corner, glaring at anyone who would try to approach him. He'd try to push Vlad away at first, but Vlad would stubbornly stay until Daniel caved. He wouldn't mock the boy, but would place a hand on his shoulder instead. He'd show Daniel that he was strong, but also dependable. Someone who would stand by him and offer guidance. Of course Jazz would approve of his actions towards her family. She'd recognize that he was trying and would trust him enough to share her own grief at the loss of her father. He would have all three of the remaining Fentons wrapped around his finger.

This was nothing like his fantasies.

For one, there was hardly anyone there. Maddie had a sister in Arkansas, but she was so off-grid that a mile-long antenna was needed just to reach her phone. Not that she would answer. If memory served him correctly, Alicia only used the phone as target practice since the only person who called her was her slobbering ex husband.

There would have been more present, but as Daniel so delicately put it, the town had been attacked by people with magical capabilities. They had no memory of the Fentons, or anything ghost-related. Even the Manson girl and Foley boy had fallen victim to the assault. He could tell by their dazed look. They weren't sure why they had come, but knew they were supposed to be there. Vlad was outraged to see them like this. It was probably what had given Daniel the conviction he needed to leave.

It was curious that the town still remembered their beloved mayor. Vlad surmised that their dimwitted brains just couldn't connect the mayor to his ghostly counterpart. Fools, the lot of them.

When the rescue team had finally uncovered the bodies, they were nearly unrecognizable. Five bodies were recovered from the grounds of Fentonworks, three of which were quickly identified as the Fentons. The remaining two were so disfigured, an identity could not be produced. 'Good,' Vlad thought. Their families could spend the rest of their days wondering what had happened to them. He could care less.

The proceedings continued. Vlad threw dirt on the pile over Jack's grave. Now that the object of his hatred and ire was gone, Vlad felt empty.

He grabbed another pile and poured the dirt on Maddie's grave. Words could not express the sorrow he felt at the loss of the only woman he had ever loved. He had wanted to build a family with her. Live happily together on a cheese farm in Wisconsin. They would have been perfect.

Silently he moved to the last grave. Pouring dirt, he watched the casket, but paused when he felt as though the casket was gazing back. It was expectant, demanding. It was probably all in his head, but it left him unnerved.

"I tried to make amends," he defended. "You think I wanted him to go gallivanting on his own?" The feeling didn't leave him. He knelt down and dropped the rest of the dirt, gaze intent. "But you have my word, Jasmine Fenton. I will not let your efforts be in vain."

He stood and left the gravesite of the only people he had ever considered family. He had things to do and a whole new world to research.

The twinkling candlelight reflected on the thin dusting of snow. A spell had been cast, freezing flurries mid-air while they glistened from the moonlight. Upon the walls and statues wreaths were placed and the fountain was filled with glowing creatures swimming lazily. The music from the Great Hall could be heard in the distance, but here in the courtyard it was peaceful. The air was crisp and pleasant, a welcomed difference from the suffocating atmosphere inside. With his duties as a triwizard champion complete, and his date gone with a Beauxbaton boy, Harry basked in the beauty of the night.

The morning had been enjoyable, if uneventful. Dobby had given him a knitted pair of socks which he had decided to wear during the evening's festivities. He appreciated the gift, but didn't have any plans to wear them ever again; Moody's comment was bad enough.

The crunching of snow was heard before Ron had sat down next to him. "Hermione's gone mental," he muttered, rubbing his arm. Harry didn't want to ask. Ron, who had been steaming with jealousy all night, had a tendency to shove his foot in his mouth in front of Hemione. Whatever she had done was probably warranted. The pair sat in silence, taking in the night.

Harry's thoughts were of his family. He hadn't expected to get anything from them this year, but still somehow felt alone. His letter home must have distanced him to the point where not even Jazz would send a Christmas card. Normally she would go out of her way to make sure he felt loved on Christmas. She wouldn't have wanted him to feel excluded despite his many attempts to be. When they were younger, she had been dedicated to making sure he and Danny had at least one gift. In her words, 'No child should feel unloved on Christmas'.

He kicked a pebble gloomily. He figured she was just taking his letter seriously. It was what he wanted. He should feel happy that she was finally listening.

So why did he feel so bad?

It's not like Harry had sent them anything either. He had debated sending them a box of chocolate frogs, but thought better of it. He didn't want to give them any doubt in his resolve. Nevermind the fact that Hedwig was not on hooting terms with him at the moment, just biting.

He sighed heavily, wishing life wasn't so hard.

"Crazy about Hagrid," Ron commented, trying to make conversation.

Harry glanced his way. "Is it? I was kind of surprised by Maxime's reaction. Why was she so upset when he called her a giant?"

Ron looked sharply at Harry. "You don't know about giants?!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Gee, Ron. Make me feel worse about growing up in a muggle family, why don't you," he replied sarcastically. His heart stung at the mention of them.

Ron raised a placating hand. "Sorry, it's just… They're not very bright. Pretty vicious, too. They aren't known for getting along with others." He leaned back on the bench and looked up at the sky. "They don't have the best reputation in the wizarding world."

Harry thought of his classmates' reactions to Lupin's secret. "Just like werewolves?"

"Well giants are also territorial, too," Ron supplied knowingly. "Cross their land and they go mental."

"Ever think that wizards are just very particular about where everyone else belongs?"

"You aren't going on about spew are you?" Ron asked, disgruntled.

"It's just, giants, werewolves, house elves. They all seem connected, don't you think? Like there's always a reason they can't just be left alone. Exist with us."

Ron scrunched his face in confusion. "House elves get along fine here. They like working for us. It's hardwired in their brains. They can't think any differently."

Ron may have had a point, but Harry was unconvinced. Perhaps it was that the first house elf he had met was the outlier that challenged this old belief. But that would mean Hagrid and Lupin were both outliers too.

"You're missing the point," Harry sighed with resignation. He leaned back and looked up. The frozen flurries were contained in the courtyard, but beyond that a clear night sky greeted them. The twinkling stars were plentiful, and Harry was finding it hard to spot a constellation. Orion was the first one he recognized. The hunter had his shield raised and his club drawn. Harry pictured a bloodthirsty giant ready to kill. Was this what wizards thought people like Hagrid looked like?

Harry paused in his thoughts. Orion wasn't a bloodthirsty giant, he was just a prideful hunter. The image of the giant had dissipated only to be replaced with Jack Fenton with his anti-creep stick raised high and a glowing portable ghost shield in hand. Harry frowned. He didn't like that his thoughts kept returning to something he'd rather not think about.

Not that he could blame himself with the subject of his gaze. Anytime he stargazed his thoughts went to his family. He couldn't help the thought that Danny would love the night sky here if he ever came to Hogwarts.

'Would we even be allowed to attend your graduation?' Danny's accusing voice echoed. Harry didn't have an answer. It would make sense that they wouldn't be, given the struggle between wizards and muggles.

A wave of exhaustion hit him. He hadn't spent much time thinking of the disconnect between wizards and muggles since the morning after the World Cup and wasn't keen on dredging up the conflicting thoughts. "You know what? Nevermind. Forget it." How hypocritical he was, longing for a home he had rejected. He had made his decision despite its consequences. Harry sighed heavily. The night was already awful, and he wasn't in the mood for existential conversations.

"Sounds like you've had too much pumpkin juice, mate," Ron joked. He stood with a stretch. "It gets to you if you've had too much." Ron's face soured suddenly and Harry surmised that he was probably thinking about Hermione. "Well, this night was a disaster. Get some sleep alright?"

Harry nodded and bid his friend good night. He sat in the courtyard and watched the stars as the night's chill began to settle. Christmas was never a fun time in the Fenton household, but at least Danny and Jazz had each other to bear through their parents' shenanigans. They were probably fighting off a glowing army of green beans right now. He wondered whether the portal was causing worse mutations than before its installment. Just the thought of the portal had him remembering the mesmerizing glowing pool. Its beauty was matched only by its peril. If Harry did have to go home for summer, at least he would have something magical to watch.

A/N - I'm happy to say that this fic is back in action! Thanks to all those who were patiently waiting during my impromptu break - I know it wasn't easy. There are a lot of key decisions I've been working through for this next arc (which I'm super excited for btw), and I had a major continuity issue that I mostly figured out but am still sorta working through. Anywho, I hope you enjoyed this refreshingly pensive side of Harry.