Rating:
R
House:
Schnoogle
Characters:
Harry Potter Lord Voldemort
Genres:
Action Romance
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix Quidditch Through the Ages Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
Stats:
Published: 12/26/2003
Updated: 08/25/2004
Words: 314,830
Chapters: 31
Hits: 230,812

Harry Potter and the Sword of the Hero

joe6991

Story Summary:
A thousand-year-old oath stands to be fulfilled. The war between Good and Evil has been raging on for a millennium. It has a chance to end, but has the hero of the side of good lost the will to live…``Harry Potter returns to the Dursleys care for the summer, but he finds the loss of Sirius hard to bear. He blames himself for his death. Voldemort doesn’t let him rest though, and soon Harry is flung back into his world. The war escalates, and more people die or join Voldemort. The fear of the Dark Lord reaches beyond the wizarding world and into the Muggle one. Both worlds will collide, as Harry will have to make the ultimate choice between what is right and what is easy. For in this war, some things are more important than life or death…

Chapter 06

Chapter Summary:
The arrival of Ethan has brought change, in more ways than Harry yet suspects. His nightmares worsen and it forces Harry to reveal a some of his secrets to his friends. As Voldemort prepares for war, Harry does all he can on his end to train himself to be ready when the time comes. With a little help from Ethan, he begins learning some different magic. But with things heading down an all to familiar path, Harry hopes for his dreams to end....
Posted:
01/16/2004
Hits:
7,009


Harry Potter and the Sword of the Hero

Chapter 6 - Dream's End

A dream is an answer to a question we haven't yet learned how to ask.

~~ Fox Mulder

The events that transpired just before lunch spread through the school like wildfire. Harry could only remember his Quibbler article ever travelling this fast around Hogwarts. Rafe punching Malfoy was the main topic discussed that day. And whether none of the professors had heard about it or Rafe had a 'get out of trouble free' card, Harry didn't know. He wasn't disciplined for it. Hermione had struggled with her conscience on whether or not to take the matter further, being a prefect and all. But Ron had talked her out of it, for which Harry and Ethan were very thankful.

It was Friday night and the common room was buzzing with 'end of the week' excitement. Harry had been given the night off from animagus training, owing to the fact that McGonagall now needed to find a griffin for him to be able to continue his training. The four of them were sitting at a table in a secluded corner of the common room. Harry was helping Hermione practice wandless magic; she was highly annoyed that it simply just came to Harry. She could barely summon a quill. Meanwhile Ron, who had a very high opinion of Ethan since he'd hit Malfoy this afternoon, was challenging him to a game of chess. Ethan was giving Ron a run for his money.

"Pawn to E-4," said Ethan. The little pawn moved slowly, it knew it was being sacrificed. It glared up at Ethan.

"Just cannon fodder... That's all I am...." it mumbled.

Ron sat deep in thought for a moment. Weighing up his options. "Hmm... Queen to E-4. Check." The little pawn was dragged off the board kicking and screaming.

Ethan now weighed his options. They weren't many. He moved his king one space to the right. "Your move...."

Ron surveyed the board before sighing heavily with relief. He then moved his bishop up the board. "Checkmate."

Ethan's pieces started shouting obscenities at him. They didn't take losing well.

"If you'd moved the Queen when I told you-"

"Bloody useless-"

"Not fit to play an accordion, let alone chess-"

Ron cleared away the board before the pieces attacked Ethan. They didn't go quietly but eventually they went. "Good game that. Best I've had in a while. Can't keep beating Harry again and again can I. He's absolutely useless at chess."

"Hey," said Harry, feigning offence. "I'm sitting right here, you know."

"Come on, Harry. I want to get this done before DADA with Moody on Monday," complained Hermione. "It doesn't come so easily to all of us as it does for you."

"What's that?" asked Rafe.

"Oh, we're learning wandless magic and Harry just seems to have a knack for it."

Ethan looked at Harry. "A demonstration, Harry?"

Harry nodded and placed his wand on the table in front of him. He raised his arm. "Accio wand." The wand shot through the air and into his outstretched hand. "There you go."

Ethan nodded. "That's what you're learning in Defence Against the Dark Arts? I thought you'd be learning defence?"

"Well it could come in handy," said Hermione. "I mean, what if you lose your wand and need to protect yourself."

"I suppose..."

"We might not be doing it anymore anyway," said Ron. "Moody might start something different."

"We'll see on Monday, I suppose. Anyway forget that; let's get started on that Potions essay. Then we can have the weekend free," Hermione proposed.

Harry and Ron groaned audibly. Ethan on the other hand, stood up and began to walk away. "Hey! Where are you going?" asked Harry.

Ethan turned. "Hmm... Oh! I've just remembered I've gotta ask Dumbledore something. I'll be back in a minute." And with that he left.

Harry watched him go and when he was gone he turned to Ron and Hermione. "So what do you think of him? Good or evil?" he asked his friends.

Hermione thought for a moment but Ron jumped straight in with an answer. "Anyone who hits Malfoy can't be bad."

"He shouldn't have done that," said Hermione disapprovingly, shaking her head.

"If he hadn't then I'd probably be in the hospital wing sleeping off the after effects of whatever curse Malfoy was about to fire at me," argued Ron.

"That's probably true," piped in Harry. "So, Hermione, what do you think of him?"

"Well... I think, I think he's hiding something. He hasn't been completely honest, but I don't think he's lied to us. There's something about him, he's... mysterious. The strong, silent type. And I also think he's pretty lonely. His parents are dead, you know. Told me in Transfiguration. I think he could use a friend or two...."

"Poor bloke...." said Ron sadly. "Well anyway.... Do you want to play some chess, Harry?"

"Oh! Ohhh.... Well, well, well. Now you want to play with me. I thought I was absolutely useless at chess?"

Ron laughed. "You are. But that still doesn't mean I won't get any satisfaction from beating you."

Harry began to laugh as well. "Thanks, but no thanks. I want to get that Potions work out of the way."

Ron shrugged and then sighed. "Potions it is."

After thirty minutes of writing about the one hundred uses of Pixy eyes, Harry was contemplating bed. It was at this time that Ethan returned. "Everything go all right?" asked Harry.

"Yeah. I'm off to London tomorrow, gotta buy a few things."

"London?"

"Yeah, I didn't bring much over from the States; I have to buy some clothes and the like." Harry nodded. "Where are Ron and Hermione?"

"Gone to bed. I was just finishing up some Potions work," Harry sighed, looking back down to the essay and his own untidy scrawl covering the page. He didn't have it in him for good penmanship when it came to Snape. No doubt he'd lose a substantial amount of his mark for that.

"Potions, huh..."

Harry nodded again, but now he saw the look on Ethan's face. A sort of desperate, apprehensive look. He sighed. "Just ask what you want to ask, Ethan...."

Rafe remained impassive. He sat down opposite Harry before speaking. He had wanted to ask these questions his entire life, but never had the chance to. And now the bloke who could answer them was sitting right in front of him. "You were there when he was resurrected?"

Harry realised where this was going instantly and, despite previous feelings, didn't overly mind discussing this. A lot had happened since those terrible atrocities committed in that graveyard - enough that Harry felt numb to the pain it used to cause. "Yes."

"You duelled with him?" Ethan said shakily.

"Yes," Harry answered instantly again.

"How'd that feel?" he asked

"I was scared to death," Harry replied honestly.

Rafe seemed taken back by this. Harry could see him thinking about his next question. Ethan practically whispered it. "What does he look like?"

Now it was Harry's turn to think before answering. What did Voldemort look like? Well he wouldn't win Witch Weekly's Most-Charming Smile Award.... Harry decided on the obvious. "He looks like... evil. His face is snake-like, slits where a nose should be. He's practically a skeleton of a man. Long, thin and bony." Harry shuddered, and then sighed. "It's his eyes that get you. They're not human, not that much else of him is either. But the eyes... red, merciless eyes. Like a demon's...." Harry grew silent and closed his own eyes, picturing his mortal enemy clearly. "Is that all, Ethan?"

Ethan swallowed and then rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. "Can you show me where I sleep?"

Harry nodded. "Come on, up the stairs and second door on the left." Rafe followed Harry up the stairs and entered the second door on the left.

Upon entering Harry saw that, sometime during the day, an extra bed had been brought up and placed against the back wall. Ron was fast asleep as Harry walked past him and the beds holding the other lads in the room. "This is probably yours, Ethan. That your trunk there?" asked Harry, pointing towards the trunk at the base of the bed.

Ethan nodded, and then made ready to go to bed. He pulled his sweater over his head and was just about to remove it completely when he remembered something. The Dark Mark. Potter couldn't see that, hard time explaining that one away. Rafe put his sweater back on. If Harry ever saw it... well, he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. "Night, Harry," said Rafe.

Harry said goodnight and went back down to the common room. It was getting on a bit now, and there were only a few Gryffindors left up. Harry didn't really know any of them that well. A group of first years he didn't even know the names of. He put names to a few faces, but that was it. He moved back over to the table where he had been doing his Potions work. Deciding he'd probably get it done late Monday night before Potions the next day, he packed his things away into his bag and went to sit by the fire.

Harry sat gazing into the flickering flames as the common room emptied around him. He hadn't had a decent night's sleep in weeks, and had no reason to think tonight would be any different. Nightmares of the dead or of a huge glowing white circle were all he had when he was asleep. Also, occasionally he would dream of a vast desert. A desert so hot that he sometimes woke up still feeling the heat. Nothing more though, not yet.

Not for the first time and definitely not for the last time, Harry found himself thinking about the Prophecy. The Prophecy that had doomed his life to be one of misery since birth. He kept going over it in his head, hoping to find some loophole, something overlooked... but of course there was nothing. Harry tried to find new ways to look at certain parts of the Prophecy, to make it look better than it was, less painful. But there was one part that was as clear as day, that could not changed, that meant exactly what it said:

...and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...

At the hand of the other, thought Harry. Kill or be killed. No matter which way Harry looked at it, this was murder, one way or the other. He thought of the Death Eaters who had died in the broom chase flight to Hogwarts. His spells had caused some of those deaths, but it wasn't the same. He hadn't wanted to kill then, it was self-defence. But the Prophecy...

He would have to fight with the intention to kill when the final battle came. No self-defence. He would meet Voldemort, and only one of them would leave alive - hopefully. Could I do it? Even if it is Voldemort, could I kill? The heir of Gryffindor versus the heir of Slytherin. That's ironic he thought Gryffindor verse Slytherin all the time at this school, he would do it again, but on a much larger scale....

Little did Harry know, that within a few months time he would be an accomplished, efficient, and seemingly professional, killer. Not through choice, but through circumstance. A bleak future, but an unavoidable one. That's life...

As Harry stared into the dying flames of the fire, he felt his eyelids slowly closing. The flickering flames were hypnotic and soon enough, Harry had fallen asleep.

He was flying. There was no broom, nothing holding him up. Harry felt himself soar through the night sky. He felt the wind in his hair, against his face. This was what flying was meant to be like.

Harry saw the ground beneath him. Now that he thought about it, was the ground moving or was he? He couldn't tell. He flew over rivers, great grassy plains, mountains, cities, fields. But it only took a few seconds. Harry saw a hilltop in the distance. Without knowing why, he was on top of it in an instant.

There was no light, everything was dark and quiet. He couldn't even make out the shapes of the landscape around him. Harry looked around himself, this hilltop commanded an impressive view for dozens of miles around. Harry could see several cities dotted around the land. It appeared this hilltop was in the centre of the land, and the cities were built all around it. Harry saw cities he knew and cities he didn't. London, Manchester, Paris, Washington... There were many more.

Suddenly, instantly, there was a massive explosion of light in the distance. A huge wall of fire covered Harry's vision. It was huge... fire. The explosion ripped across the land around him, levelling cities, leaving a trail of ash and destruction in its wake. Nothing survived. The cities with the tall skyscrapers were razed to the ground. It was the end of the world, and Harry hadn't even blinked.

He turned away from the destruction, and looked behind him. There it was; the circle of light. It swirled and around the edges - small crackles of white light escaped and then disappeared. But it was what was in the centre of the circle that drew Harry's gaze. A thousand images flicked by in quick succession. Landscapes of cities, fields, rivers, and mountains; all changing. Some of them showed death, others life.

The circle grew until it was all that Harry could see. It was set to consume him, envelope him in its bright white light. It was getting closer and hotter. Harry found it hard to breathe, he felt his very blood boiling from the intense heat in his veins, he was on fire, but there were no flames. And then he felt it sucking him in. Against his will he felt his feet leave the ground and move up towards the circle. He was about to-

"HARRY! HARRY! WAKE UP," shouted a familiar voice.

Harry was jolted back to consciousness and saw a figure standing over him. Immediately instinct took over, instinct Harry didn't even know he had. Without realising what he was doing he grabbed this person by the throat and called Gryffindor's sword, his sword, from within him and stood up. All this happened in about two seconds.

It wasn't until Harry really saw this person, his hand on her throat and his other hand holding a blade in front of her face, that he realised who it was. "Hermione," he croaked, dropping back into the armchair, the sword disappearing as quickly as it had come. "Hermione, I-"

Hermione had tears in her eyes; she raised her hand to her throat and rubbed it. Harry had squeezed hard. She tried to say something but nothing came out. She couldn't believe what had just happened. Where had that sword come from? Why was he screaming in his sleep? That look in his eyes... his green eyes, were red.... just a flash and then it was gone....

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I didn't- I didn't realise... Are you okay....?" Harry saw the look of fear on her face, a look that was directed towards him. Hermione was afraid of him. That wasn't right.

After what seemed like hours, Hermione spoke. "Harry, I... I think I deserve an explanation," she whispered, her hand never leaving her throat.

Harry was close to tears, he'd hurt her. "Do you- do you want to sit down?" Hermione nodded and sat in the armchair opposite Harry, not the one next to him. "I am so sorry," he whispered. "I didn't realise what I was doing. I would never hurt you, Hermione."

Hermione heard the sincerity in his voice, but she needed to see it in his eyes. Needed to see the normal Harry eyes. She looked up into those eyes and saw... clear emerald green. It was Harry, the Harry she knew. "Harry, I know that. It's just...."

"What?"

"You scared me. I came down here and found you in that chair, you were screaming and shaking. I ran over and grabbed you, tried to wake you up but I couldn't hold you. You were so hot; I mean your skin was burning as if you were on fire." Hermione was near tears, Harry could tell. "I tried calling your name, and was just about to go get help when- when you woke up and... grabbed my throat," she finished weakly.

"I was... dreaming. It wasn't a nice dream; I don't want you to hear it...."

Harry thought she looked angry now, upset maybe? "Harry," she began quietly, "you've been keeping a lot of things from us lately. And I think I deserve an explanation. You don't seem well, Harry. You- you barely sleep, and when you do you have nightmares. Ron's told me about them, he say's it's the same every night. And now I came down here because I heard you screaming and you grab me and threaten me with a sword... A sword! You have to tell me what's going on!"

Harry sighed. Everything she said was true. She did deserve an explanation, he could have really hurt her, and she had to know. But where to start... the beginning? No, too difficult. "Hermione, do you remember when I received that recruitment letter from Voldemort a few weeks back?"

"Of course," she said quickly.

"Well... I didn't tell you everything that happened after Dumbledore and I left...."

"What happened?"

"Oh, it's nothing bad; in fact it was some good news for once. I don't really know how to say this so I'll just say it. I'm the heir of Gryffindor, for what it's worth. A direct descendant."

Hermione smiled as if she was going to laugh, but then she saw the look of seriousness on Harry's face and immediately took on a confused expression. "You're serious?" Harry nodded. "Well that explains one or two things. And... The sword?"

Harry smiled and raised his left arm. He called for the sword and in an instant it was in his hand. "Comes with the title; Gryffindor's heir, Gryffindor's sword."

He passed the sword to Hermione who carefully grabbed the hilt and ran her fingers up the length of the blade. "This is what you killed the basilisk with, wasn't it?" Harry nodded. "And it's in your arm?"

"I don't understand it either. But it's always there when I call for it." Harry raised his arm again, and the sword vanished in Hermione's hands and reappeared in his. He put it away. "I am sorry, Hermione...."

"Its okay, Harry. I- I startled you, and... What were you dreaming about?"

Harry sighed. "Death...."

Hermione was silent for a moment. "You want to talk about it?"

"Nah... Come on, let's go get some breakfast."

Hermione smiled. "Harry, it's three in the morning."

"Oh..." Harry looked out of the nearby window, darkness. But he was still unexplainably hungry. "That shouldn't stop us; kitchens here are a twenty-four hour service. Sit tight, I'll be back in a minute." Leaving a very bemused looking Hermione by the fire, Harry rushed up the stone stairs and into his room. Two minutes later he was back in the common room with his invisibility cloak. "Right, ready?"

"Harry, it's really late."

"No it isn't, it's really early. Come on, I know I won't get back to sleep tonight; I doubt you will now either. Let's go see Dobby. I'm sure we can avoid Filch," ended Harry nervously.

Hermione agreed and smiled. "Well it's nice to see you're still 'Harry' sometimes, Harry."

"Er... what?"

"You can duel with a Dark Lord, face down dozens of Dementors, and evade Death Eaters on a broom stick, yet you still get nervous when it comes to dodging Filch in the halls. It's just nice to see some of the old Harry."

"You don't like new Harry?"

"New Harry is way too serious."

Harry sighed. "I am sorry, Hermione."

"Oh, come on now, forget about that. I forgive you. Now let's go see Dobby."

*~*~*~*

"Harry Potter, sir!" cried a very excited looking Dobby, throwing his arms around Harry's left leg, knocking off a few very familiar looking hats in the process. "You have come to see, Dobby?"

Harry smiled. "Yes. Hello, Dobby."

"And you bring Miss Hermione to see Dobby as well."

Hermione smiled but it was tight, and mingled with confusion. "Dobby, are you wearing all my-"

Harry quickly intervened. "So, Dobby. I don't suppose there's any chance of getting something to eat?"

"Why yes, Harry Potter. We is just beginning to prepare the breakfast now."

Four small elves rushed over to Harry and Hermione carrying plates of food. Harry accepted them with many a 'thank you' and saw the little elves run off with smiles all over their faces. Harry and Hermione sat down next to Dobby and began to eat some sausages. "How have you been, Dobby?"

"I has been fine, Harry Potter. I has thirteen new socks," said the elf, pointing to his feet. He was wearing them all.

"That's nice, Dobby," said Hermione.

Their conversation went on like this for another half an hour; it always seemed to be drawn back to Dobby's socks however. After saying their goodbyes to Dobby and declining the plates of food the elves offered them on their way out, Harry and Hermione left. The walk back up to the tower was uneventful and soon enough they were slumped back in the armchairs by the fire.

It was a good three hours or so before the day started, and Harry was at a loss for something to do. He spotted his bag and pulled out the previous night's homework. With a small smile to Hermione, he was soon getting all the help he needed and had it finished in no time.

"Thanks, Hermione. Would've taken me hours."

Later on that morning, at breakfast, Harry told Ron about his being the heir of Gryffindor. He left out the part about what happened for him to tell Hermione, but Ron's response was typical.

"Bloody hell, Harry. I bet that was a kick in the teeth! Did you hear that, Hermione?"

"Yes, it is rather amazing isn't it? What with You-Know-Who being Slytherin's heir."

"Hey, I hadn't thought of that," said Ron. "You really have a sword in your arm, Harry?"

Harry nodded. "I'll show you later. Only you two and Dumbledore know about it so keep it quiet."

Ron and Hermione nodded. "Do you know where Ethan is, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"Hmm? Oh, he's gone to London. Said he needed to buy some things."

*~*~*~*

The weekend passed by in a blur. Harry, Ron and Hermione spent the rest of Saturday down by the lake. They talked about meaningless things and Harry showed Ron his sword. After a few hours the wind started to pick up and the rain clouds moved in, so the three of them went back up to Gryffindor tower.

As usual, Harry was up early the next day. He showered and walked down to the common room, all before seven. As he was descending the stairs, he heard the portrait of the fat lady open and close and then the footsteps of someone walking across the room. Harry continued down the stairs and came face to face with Ethan. He was carrying a few bags.

"Harry..." the dark haired youth said, his eyes flicking towards the scar.

"Ethan, you just get in?" Harry asked.

"Yeah... spent the night in London."

"Oh, well you didn't miss much here," said Harry. "I was just about to go down to breakfast, if you want to go?"

Rafe nodded and quickly jumped up the stairs and placed his bags in his trunk. Ten minutes later Harry and Ethan were seated in the Great Hall. Looking up at the ceiling, Harry saw that the day promised rain. Big grey rain clouds swirled across the entire sky. It was getting closer to Christmas. The snow would come soon.

Pulling a plate of bacon, and grabbing two rolls, towards himself, Harry talked to Ethan. "You ever played Quidditch, Ethan?" he asked.

Ethan seemed to think before answering. "Well... I have played some street Quidditch. Which is pretty much just violence on a broomstick. I broke my nose once or twice playing that back in the States. Its how I got this scar," he said, pointing to the crescent shaped scar on the left side of his slightly irregular nose, tapping it thoughtfully.

"Well we've got Quidditch tryouts on the fifth, next Saturday, for the house team. You should come along. No one else in the house has had much experience."

"What positions are open?" he asked.

"Beater and Chaser."

Rafe seemed lost in thought for a moment but then he perked up. "I'll be there," he said getting up and beginning to walk away.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"Well I have to go buy a broom stick; I'll be back in an hour or two."

"Broom...? Where are you going to get that?"

Rafe thought for a moment. "Diagon Alley, is it called that? I can't remember?"

"You won't get there and back within two hours; someone might notice you're gone."

"It's all right. I'll just walk down to the gates and then Apparate-"

"Apparate!" whispered Harry, pulling Ethan back down onto the bench, mindful of the other people now in the hall. "You can Apparate!"

Ethan smiled and winked. "Don't tell anyone."

"But it's illegal until you're of age...." Harry frowned.

Rafe thought for a moment. He remembered Dumbledore asking him if he could teach Potter one or two things. "I'll teach you how to do it, if you like."

Harry was taken back by this. "I don't know..."

Rafe sat back down, as did Harry. "Look," he whispered, "from what I've heard you could really need this one day. Better to be safe than sorry."

Harry laughed now. "Yeah, we'll be sorry when we're up on trial at the Ministry of Magic for breaking the law. Plus I don't like the idea of getting splinched."

"What the Ministry doesn't know can't hurt them. And I learnt to Apparate on my own. I didn't splinch myself once. What do you say?"

Harry thought about this. He could have used Apparation many times over the years, many, many times. It would definitely be valuable against Voldemort and the Death Eaters. It was his job to defeat Voldemort, end a war. When... if he destroyed Voldemort the Ministry wouldn't care that he broke a few rules along the way. "All right."

Ethan nodded. "Good. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to go buy a broom." And with that he left, leaving Harry to think about what just happened.

As promised he was back in a few hours. Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting in the common room, as the rain was coming down in torrents outside. Every one in the house was in the common room, when the portrait opened and in walked a drenched looking figure with a package slung over his shoulder. It was Ethan.

Every Gryffindor in the common room turned towards him, wondering why he would have been out in the rain. He spotted Harry and walked over. "Hello, you three," he said.

"Ethan, you're all wet. Where've you been?" asked Hermione.

"Em... I just got back from London."

"Well here," she said, quickly removing her wand from her robes. She cast a drying spell.

"Thanks."

The rest of that day was spent indoors, as the rain ceased to let up. It was an ordinary day. Harry played chess with Ron, did some homework, and began planning his next DA lesson. He'd been somewhat lax with them of late, having one every other week. He thought it time to get back into the swing of things. And later that night, Harry had a whispered conversation with Ethan about Apparation.

"When do you want to start?" asked Ethan.

"As soon as possible. But I don't know where we could do it. You can't Apparate at Hogwarts."

"Well there has got to be a way to get off the grounds unnoticed. You've been here six years, what can you tell me?"

Harry thought about this. He could tell Ethan about the.... Harry didn't know why, but something told him to trust Rafe. Perhaps it was instinct, maybe something greater, but he knew he could trust this boy. "There is a way to get into Hogsmeade. A tunnel that leads into Honeydukes. There is also a tunnel that leads to a shack on the outskirts of the town, that shack is deserted."

Rafe nodded. "The shack it is. We'll go next weekend."

The next day was Monday, and again the beginning of the week gloom was on everybody in the Great Hall. Everybody that is, except for Hermione, who always looked forward to a new week.

"We have our first lesson with Moody today," she said happily to Ron as they sat down at the table.

"Well if he does things like the fake one did it should be interesting."

"Constant vigilance," muttered Harry.

Hermione laughed, as did Ron. "Did you see the notice on the board this morning, Harry?" asked Ron. Harry shook his head. "Hogsmeade weekend on Saturday the 26th."

"Should be good. If it isn't raining," he said, looking up at the ceiling and seeing nothing but rain clouds, threatening to burst at any minute. As Harry watched the ceiling the post owls descended upon the Great Hall.

The dozens of owls circled the Hall, searching out their recipients. A rather impressive looking owl landed on Harry's shoulder. Harry removed the envelope attached to its leg and it took flight.

Harry looked at the envelope. From the Office of the Minister of Magic. Harry knew what this was, the details on his Order of Merlin award. Harry opened the letter and removed the parchment within.

"Who's that from?" asked Ethan.

"Cornelius Fudge," said Harry, "the Minister of Magic." Harry unfolded the parchment and read the letter.

Dear Mr. Potter,

Please be aware that the award ceremony for your Order of Merlin, Second Class, will be held on November the 16th 1996, at the Ministry of Magic Formal Events Hall.

Please find enclosed your itinerary:

18:00: A car will be waiting for you at The Leaky Cauldron to take you to the venue.

18:30: Arrive at the Ministry of Magic Formal Events Hall, meet with Ministry Officials

19:00 till end: Dinner and dancing before the awarding of the Order of Merlin, Second Class.

Please note formal dress robes are required, as is a partner for the dance. Thank you, Mr. Potter.

Sincerely,

Cornelius Fudge

Minister of Magic

"Well there you go then," said Harry, passing the letter to Ron.

"That should be fun," said Ron, passing the letter to Hermione.

"Yeah.... great. Come on, we have to get to Transfiguration."

Transfiguration passed in a blur of normality, and soon enough Harry found himself walking down to Hagrid's hut for Magical Creatures. Hagrid had told them that his 'special delivery' was due mid-November. Until then it was Krups.

As was the routine, Harry found Padma and they went and got Little Harry. From there they followed a path around the lake and sat near its edge while Little Harry ventured a few feet into the water. They were there now.

"Harry, you're Hagrid's friend. Do you know what his 'special delivery' is?" asked Padma.

Harry sighed. "No, he won't tell me. I've asked him about a hundred times."

"Oh well, I suppose we'll see in time."

"Yeah...." Harry had become nervous. He had wanted to ask Padma to the award ceremony. The letter said to bring a partner, and he couldn't think of anyone else he'd rather go with. Come on, man he thought to himself; you're a Gryffindor. Hell, you're Gryffindor's heir. You should be brave enough to do this.... "Listen, Padma. I was wondering if," Harry decided on aiming smaller first, "if you'd like to go to Hogsmeade with me...?"

Padma seemed taken back by this. But then she smiled. "Oh, Harry. I'd love to."

Harry smiled, somewhat stupidly, and stood up. "Really?"

Padma stood up to. "I was actually working up the courage to ask you."

"You were?" smiled Harry.

Padma nodded and placed her hand in Harry's. The two of them walked back to Hagrid's like that, attracting one or two looks from their classmates.

At lunch Harry told Ron and Hermione about Padma. They were happy for him. Hermione personally thought it was about time something good happened for him. God knows he's had enough bad luck over the past few months. After lunch was their first DADA lesson with Moody, the real Moody, hopefully.

Harry walked up to DADA room 2 with Ron, Hermione and Ethan. Upon entering the room, they discovered they weren't the first ones there. Padma was there, as was her group of friends. She called Harry over and he sat down next to her. Ethan sat to Harry's right, followed by Hermione and then Ron. Harry made small talk with Padma as the room filled up around them.

After five minutes or so, the dull clunk of Moody's leg on the stone floor could be heard approaching the room and everyone grew quiet. When Moody entered he didn't say anything. He walked passed the rows of silent students and sat at his own desk. For a few minutes he said nothing, his magical blue eye jumping from student to student. Eventually he spoke. "Good afternoon," he said.

Most people muttered a greeting back, but Moody was already on his feet. "You were learning wandless magic from Dumbledore?" he asked. Several people nodded. "Very handy area that," he growled. "But I'm not going to continue with that lesson plan. You will still practice your wandless magic, as it will appear on NEWTs, but you will do it for homework, twenty minutes a night." Moody stopped and swirled his eye across the room, daring anyone to question his homework. No one did. "Good... Now that that's out of the way, I'll move on to the new course. I am here to teach you Defence Against the Dark Arts. This term you will be learning to properly defend yourself against dark wizards."

Harry realised where this was going. The same way he had taken DA meetings. They were here to learn how to fight Death Eaters. Moody continued. "Most of you are aware of the return of Voldemort." Almost everybody in the room jumped or cringed at the sound of the name, Moody continued. "You will soon be of age and with that comes responsibility... and choice. This war with the Dark Lord will be fought by you; your choices will decide the outcome of this war. Join the Death Eaters or become an Auror? Fight or die? Resist or serve? In the end it will be down to you, I hope you will make the right choice when the time comes."

Moody let these words sink in. It was a good three minutes before he spoke again. "Now, can anyone tell me what Voldemort's greatest weapon is?"

Several people raised their hands. Moody nodded to them one by one.

"The Killing Curse."

"Cruciatus."

"The Dementors."

"Death Eaters."

"Those answers," said Moody, "are all wrong. Anyone else want to take a stab at it?" Moody's gaze shifted over Harry's for just a second.

Harry sighed. He knew the answer; he was probably the only one in the room who did. "Fear," he said quietly. Everybody heard him.

"Good," said Moody. "It's good to see at least one of you has his wits about him. Fear! Fear is Voldemort's biggest weapon. I say his name and most of you instinctively flinch or gasp. Yet none of you, bar Potter, have ever even seen Voldemort, let alone fought him, again making an exception for Potter there. Hopefully none of you ever will, as it will be one of the last things you ever do. You have no idea what you are afraid of, what we are fighting against. But still you fear him. And what's more, he knows it."

Moody grew silent and let them think about these words for a few minutes. "I only know a handful of witches and wizards on this entire planet that will say Voldemort's name, myself included. That's literally half a dozen out of about a million magical folk who are aware of his existence. One of them is in this room, another you call Headmaster."

Everyone's gaze shifted to Harry. He moved uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself," said Harry, recalling Dumbledore's words from his first year.

"EXACTLY!" shouted Moody. Everyone in the room jumped. "By fearing to say his name you are adding to his power. Voldemort is an extremely powerful wizard. By his wand hundreds, if not thousands, have died. But his real power comes from those who support him. The Death Eaters, Voldemort's army. They're the ones that usually do his dirty work; Voldemort himself only kills those who have really annoyed him. And that's why I am going to teach you to fight Death Eaters. Curses, hexes and protective charms.

"You will learn and remember it all. Don't think you're safe. Voldemort is out there. He will affect every one of you in someway before this war is over, I guarantee it. Now I know most of you haven't had much experience with this sort of thing, so let's hear from someone who has. Potter, what's it like to duel with the Dark Lord?"

Harry was silent as every person in the room turned to face him. He thought for a moment. What was duelling with Voldemort like? Well... "It's like knowing you're about to die and can do absolutely nothing to stop it. He'll play with you, ask you questions, tell you to do things; bow to death, things like that. He will use fear to break you... and pain. After Avada Kedavra, Cruciatus is probably his favourite curse... that one hurts...." Padma grasped his hand under the desk. "He likes to put on a good show... and that's, now that I think about, a weakness of his."

Moody nodded. "And the Death Eaters...?"

"The Death Eaters are mostly brawn, not brain. If you know how to protect yourself, they shouldn't be too much of a problem... though they do like to work in groups," he said, remembering the Death Eaters from the Department of Mysteries. "They have no problems working the Unofrigvables though."

"Thank you, Potter," said Moody. "Now, pull out your quills and copy this down." Moody waved his wand towards the black board and lines of chalk whirled their way across it, forming words.

*~*~*~*

Stonehenge, the night of October 2nd

"My Lord," said one of the two Death Eaters that had just approached Voldemort, the two men were carrying something between them.

"What is it?" said Voldemort angrily.

The men threw forward the burden they had been carrying. It was a man, stunned.

"We found him on the outskirts of that line of trees," said the Death Eater, pointing to some trees in the distance. "I think he's an Auror."

"You're not here to think," said Voldemort. "You may go."

The two men bowed to Voldemort and then disappeared into the darkness around the stones. Voldemort surveyed the man before him while he removed his wand from within his robes. He didn't recognise him. "Enervate," he said lazily.

The man woke up and instinctively reached for his wand in a holster around his waist. It wasn't there. "You have had Auror training I see," said Voldemort. The man jumped and looked up at the Dark Lord.

"You- You're.... He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named...." stuttered the man, his voice shaking with cold fear.

"Yes, Auror, I am. Would you mind telling me what you were doing here?" The man passed his hand over his eyes and muttered something incoherently. "I've already asked you once. Do not make me ask again!"

"I- I...."

"Crucio."

The Auror screamed and writhed in pain on the cold ground. After a minute, Voldemort broke the connection. "Well?"

The man began to cry. "I was... I was... spying...."

"I know you were, Auror. And now you must pay the price."

"N- No," he cried.

"Wormtail," shouted Voldemort into the darkness around him.

Peter Pettigrew emerged to Voldemort's right and slowly moved towards his master. "Yes, my Lord?"

"Tie this spy to the altar, and place these two daggers either side of him," said Voldemort with a quick flick of his wrist, two knifes appeared in his hand. He passed them to Wormtail.

Wormtail didn't say anything as he tied the man to the stone altar in the centre of the circle, he didn't look at the man as he continued to cry, and he didn't look at the man as he placed a dagger either side of him.

"Good, Wormtail. Now come hold this book open, I will need my hands free."

Wormtail obeyed. He kneeled down in front of Voldemort and held the ancient book up so the Dark Lord could read it. This ritual requires sacrifice, he said to himself.

Voldemort began. He spoke in a tongue Wormtail was unfamiliar with. He thought it might be a language similar to Latin, but not quite so. Voldemort began to speak louder. At first Wormtail thought he was imagining it; one of the stones that made up the circle began to glow. It was followed by another and then another. Three stones on three different points of the circle, all glowing light blue.

Voldemort raised his left arm and the dagger to the left of the Auror rose with it. With one swift movement Voldemort brought his arm plunging down, causing the dagger to do the same. It punctured the left side of the Auror's chest and penetrated deep. The man screamed in pain but was drowned out by the sound of the wind now blowing through the circle. Wormtail watched as the glowing stones shot beams of light above the centre altar. They met in the middle and began to spin above the man, forming an orb of dark blue light that was suspended above this Auror who was screaming in pain.

Voldemort began to chant even louder now, and in so doing raised his right arm. The dagger to the right of the man rose with it. The orb that hung above the man was now about the size of his head. Without warning, Voldemort brought his arm down, causing the dagger to fall into the man's chest. He screamed out again and then began to take deep desperate breaths. He was dying... slowly.

His vision was becoming blurry. He hardly saw what was in front of him anymore. Instead he saw images of his life flick by. He saw his wife when they were married, God she was beautiful. He saw his daughter; she would be going to Hogwarts in a year. And then his vision came back to him for a brief moment, and through the pain he saw Voldemort raise his arms.

Voldemort raised his arms. He shouted a few final words and then brought them crashing down. The orb of light swirled for a moment before plummeting towards the man. He saw it coming; it was the last thing he ever saw. The orb connected with him, and his chest exploded. Pieces of his flesh were thrown outwards for metres around. Voldemort didn't move as his robes were splattered with blood, nor did he move as the smoke cleared.

Wormtail was still kneeling on the ground, the book and his robes covered in the man's blood. He rose when Voldemort ordered him to. Instinctively Wormtail turned to the altar. What met his eyes wasn't pretty. Chunks of the man's flesh still littered the stone. Unrecognisable pieces here and there lay strewn across the glade. It was a blood bath. Wormtail turned away as his eyes connected with the mans severed head lying at the base of the altar, the biggest piece of him left.

Voldemort ignored the carnage before him, he ignored Wormtail's whimpers. He was looking for any sign of magic, words maybe, written into the stone like it had happened last time. And then they became clear. Red letters appeared in the stone, as did a small hieroglyph. Voldemort read them:

Tempus ac Capacitas

"Tempus ac Capacitas.... Time and Space," he muttered. Voldemort studied the small hieroglyph that had also appeared. It depicted the Sun and Moon in the sky together, over three dark lines. Voldemort knew what this was, the Vernal Equinox. One of two days in the year when there was exactly twelve hours of daylight and twelve hours of darkness. The three lines meant that it would be in the third month, March, as it always was. March 20th 1997 would be the next one. Voldemort assumed that this time and space magic could only be performed on this day. Beyond that he didn't know what it would do, or what this meant.

Voldemort turned away from the stone. He would definitely look into this further. As he was walking away he spoke to Wormtail. "Put the spy's head in a box; send it to that fool Dumbledore. Show him once more what happens to enemies of Lord Voldemort."

*~*~*~*

Saturday October 5th

Harry stared warily at the ceiling in the Great Hall. Today was the day of the Quidditch tryouts. He didn't want to have to do it in the rain. From what he could tell, not many people were trying out for the team. The only people he saw carrying brooms were Ethan, Ginny, and a few other people from the lower years.

After breakfast Harry walked down to the pitch alone. He carried his Firebolt slung over his shoulder. He hadn't been on it since the beginning of term, when he had crashed through the window and he was itching to get back in the air. He arrived at the Quidditch pitch to discover he was the first one there, as he had hoped.

Harry walked out onto the finely cut grass and swung his leg over his broom. With a quick glance up at the sky, he kicked off with all the force he had. Nothing else existed for Harry now, while flying he forgot all his problems and just soared. Back and forth across the pitch he flew. He felt the wind in his hair as he dived towards the ground. When he was in mere inches of it, Harry pulled up sharply on his broom and felt the adrenaline flow through him. That was fun.

Harry flew slower now; and in time flew over the stands and dismounted his broom in one of the top boxes. He sat down lazily on the wooden bench, his thoughts invading his mind again now that he wasn't flying. He closed his eyes and sat back. For the thousandth time that week, Harry thought of the Prophecy, at the hand of the other... It won't be me, I will kill him. His thoughts were interrupted as he heard some footsteps to his left. Harry sat up and opened his eyes. It was Ginny.

"Hello, Harry," she said.

"Hi, Gin. You here for the tryouts?"

"Yes, I'm going to try for Chaser."

Harry nodded. "I'm sure you'll do well."

Ginny smiled. "Thanks, Harry." She continued to smile for a moment but then seemed lost in her thoughts. "Harry," she said quietly, "do you know anything about that new boy, Ethan?"

"Ethan? Not much, why?"

"Oh! No, it's nothing really... just...."

"What?"

"Well, he kind of reminds me of someone."

Harry had thought the same thing upon first meeting Rafe. "Who?"

"I'm not sure," she said shaking her head. "But when I look at him I just get this feeling, and it's not a good feeling... I was afraid when I first saw him and I don't know why?"

Harry sighed. "It's probably nothing...." Though Harry wasn't sure, he didn't really know Ethan.

Harry was brought back to his senses as other people started to arrive. Down below on the pitch he caught sight of Katie Bell, Ethan, Ron, Seamus, Dean, Colin Creevey, Dennis Creevey, Lavender Brown and about half a dozen third and fourth years. Harry and Ginny mounted their brooms and flew down to meet them.

"There you are, Harry," said Ron when Harry landed next to him. "We missed you at breakfast."

"I wanted to get out and fly for a bit," he said.

"Right," began Katie, "thanks for coming out. Could I please have one line to my left for those of you who are here to tryout for the Chaser positions, and a line to the right for Beaters."

There was some shuffling as the lines were formed. In the Chaser line was Ginny, Seamus, Colin Creevey, Lavender Brown, and the half a dozen or so kids from the lower years. In the Beater line stood Ethan, Dean, and Dennis Creevey, who was practically dwarfed by the two sixth years next to him.

"Good," said Katie. "This is how it's going to work. The first two in the Chaser line will fly with me, while the first person in the Beater line will knock Bludgers at us, trying to stop us from getting up the field. Got it? Good. Harry, you and Ron will watch and judge who did the best."

Katie bent down to the box at her feet and opened it. Inside were the Quidditch balls. "Okay, get ready. Ginny, Seamus, you're up first. You too, Dean." They mounted their brooms just as Katie released the Bludgers. Dean was off after them immediately. Katie grabbed the Quaffle and flew into the air, closely followed by Ginny and Seamus. "On three," she said. "One, two, three."

They were off. Katie, Ginny, and Seamus flew in line with each other, passing the Quaffle back and forth effortlessly. They were a quarter of the way up the pitch when Dean hit his first Bludger at them. It swooped behind Seamus and hit the tail of his broom, causing him to drop the Quaffle. Katie quickly recovered and passed it to Ginny, who successfully dodged a Bludger from Dean. She sped off up the pitch with all the speed she could muster. She was closing in on the hoop when a Bludger flew across her path and caused her to brake in mid-air.

Katie zoomed past her, and as she did, Ginny threw her the Quaffle and she threw it through the middle hoop. It was over. Seamus hadn't done very well, but Ginny had. And Dean did all right with the Bludgers; at least that was what Harry thought.

Next up was Lavender and Colin Creevey, with Dennis Creevey on Bludgers. This one was over before it began. Katie, Lavender, and Colin flew up the pitch without one Bludger getting in their way. Dennis had failed.

It was Ethan's turn next. Katie and two third years had a hard time making it up the pitch, as Ethan mercilessly hit Bludger after Bludger at them. Eventually they did get there. Well that's the Beaters decided thought Harry Ethan and Dean

Every Beater got another chance to show their worth as the other Chaser hopefuls were cycled through. Ethan was great, Dean was okay, and Dennis was terrible. After it was finished, Katie and the rest of the group approached Ron and Harry.

"The Beaters are definitely Dean and Ethan," said Harry. "Sorry, Dennis." Dennis nodded glumly.

"As for the Chasers," said Ron. "Well... Ginny you're in," he said. "But we couldn't decide between Colin and Lavender. You'll have to go again."

"Okay," said Katie. "Come on you two." Katie, Colin, and Lavender flew back into the air. "Ethan," shouted Katie, "you are the Beater."

Ethan mounted his broom (a Firebolt
no less) and flew into the air. They were off. Katie, Colin and Lavender started off well. They made it half way up the pitch before Ethan's barrage of Bludgers hit them. Lavender dropped the Quaffle, as did Katie a moment later, both trying to dodge Bludgers. But Colin, Colin dropped it five consecutive times as the two Bludgers came his way five consecutive times. By the end Colin had given up, handing victory to Lavender.

"So that's settled," said Katie. "The Chasers are Ginny and Lavender, and the Beaters Dean and Ethan. Thanks to all you others who tried out. Maybe next year for one of you. Okay, for those of you on the team I'll arrange some practices for next week. The first game is against Hufflepuff on the 23rd of November so we better be ready."

Harry, Ethan, and Ron stayed behind as everyone else left. They wanted to fly some more. Harry tried to get Ginny to stay but she shook her head slowly and cast a worried glance at Ethan. Harry noticed this and didn't push it. "Okay, see you later then."

After she left the three of them took flight. Ron was in goals while Harry and Ethan took shots on him. Harry thought that Ron had improved. He must have been practicing over the summer thought Harry. He saved at least nine out of every ten shots.

Harry was just about to get out the Snitch when the rain, that had been threatening all day, broke. There was a struggle as the three of them tried to run up the path carrying the Quidditch box and their brooms between them. Eventually they made it, and Harry dropped the box off at Madam Hooch's office before rushing down to lunch in the Great Hall.

*~*~*~*

On Monday they had DADA with Moody again. Just like with the fake Moody this was fast becoming everyone's favourite lesson.

"Good afternoon," growled Moody once they were all seated. "Today, and everyday from now until I say so, will be a practical lesson." Most people in the room looked up at this, practical lessons were always fun. "Can anyone in this room honestly say that they have duelled, a proper duel, formal, one on one with another wizard? Raise your hand." Harry raised his hand, as did Ethan, Malfoy, and a Hufflepuff whose name Harry couldn't remember. "Well four out of sixty isn't bad," said Moody lightly. "By the end of the month everyone in the room will have duelled against someone. That's our next area of study. You're going to be duelling against each other."

This was met with silence as people cast furtive glances at each other. Duelling thought Harry should be fun.

"Now this is not meant to be fun," barked Moody. "This is so you know how to protect yourself when the time comes. Now, we'll start today. Do we have a volunteer pair to go first?" No one volunteered. "Come on, don't make me choose." Still no one volunteered. "All right then...." sighed Moody. "Let's see... Potter," Harry stood up, "and...." Before Moody could select a second, Ethan stood up. Moody looked at Rafe apprehensively before speaking. "Okay... Rafe and Potter."

Harry and Ethan moved out into the big empty space in the middle of the room. For a brief moment Harry realised that this big empty space was here just for this, duelling. Harry and Rafe separated and then turned to face each other. "Right, I'm sure I don't need to tell you which curses not to use," said Moody. They nodded. "Okay. The winner will be the one who immobilises the other. That is, puts them at your mercy. Begin!"

For a moment Harry and Ethan didn't move, and then at the same time they bowed to each other. Harry couldn't help but be reminded of his duel with Voldemort in the graveyard. Bow to Death... Rafe was quick to get on the offensive. "STUPEFY," he shouted. Harry threw himself to the floor and the curse went over him. It flew towards the row of desks on the right side of the room, currently occupied by one third of the class. They ducked and the curse hit the stone wall behind them.

Harry was quick to get back on his feet. As soon as he was, he fired the first curse that came to his mind. "Impedimenta." Ethan stepped to the side and dodged the curse easily.

With a quick flick of his wand he shouted, "Expelliarmus!" This came at Harry faster than he could dodge. He took it in the chest and felt his wand leave his grasp as he was thrown backwards through the air. Harry landed hard on his back on the edge of the room, wandless.

Ethan was sure he'd won. Sure Potter was down and out. He strode casually over to Harry, wand hanging lazily at his side. That was his mistake. Quick as a flash Harry raised his arm and shouted, "Stupefy!" Wandless magic, Rafe hadn't expected it. He didn't have time to dodge, he was too close. The spell hit him and he fell to the floor unconscious.

"Well done, Potter," growled Moody. "Revive him now."

Harry retrieved his wand and revived Ethan. He blinked a bit before noticing Harry. "Didn't expect that one," he said. Harry grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet.

"That was good, lads," said Moody. "Go sit back down." Harry and Rafe returned to their seats. "Now, can anyone tell me what Ethan's mistake was? Where he went wrong?" Hermione raised her hand. "Granger."

"He dropped his guard once he had Harry's wand," said Hermione. "Didn't expect Harry to be able to retaliate without a wand."

"Right," barked Moody. "NEVER, and I mean never, let your guard down in the presence of an enemy. I've seen too many good men, and women, cut down because they thought they had won. Never take your eye off the ball - it is always the difference between life and death. Remember that, even if you remember nothing else."

The week seemed to fly by for Harry. He was kept busy in Potions by Snape. It took Harry his all to keep going in that class without hitting Snape. When it came to DADA, Harry barely had time to breath. Moody insisted that they duel as fast as they could. Once one pair duelled another would immediately take their place. Harry had yet to duel against Ron or Hermione, which was a good thing, and hadn't duelled against Malfoy, which was a bad thing. Like Harry, Malfoy hadn't lost any of his duels; he wanted to wipe the smug grin of his face.

On Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday nights he had Quidditch practice to slug through. Katie wanted everyone to get used to playing with each other before the match against Hufflepuff. Harry had approached McGonagall after Transfiguration on Friday and asked about the griffin. McGonagall had yet to acquire a griffin so his animagus training was going nowhere fast.

As was his way, Harry was up early on Saturday morning. He hobbled out of bed and over the landing to the shower. After showering he made his way down to the common room. Harry had expected to be the only one up, so he was surprised to find Ethan sitting in an armchair, all showered and shaved.

"You ready, Harry?" he asked upon seeing him.

"Ready?" Harry was lost.

"I thought you wanted to learn how to Apparate?"

"Oh! Yeah. You want to go now?" Harry glanced out the window. The sun had barely risen yet. It was the early light of dawn that met his eyes.

"If we go now we could be back in a few hours, nobody will miss us."

Harry nodded. "All right, give me two minutes." Harry climbed back up the stairs and into the dorm. Being as quiet as he could, he removed the invisibility cloak from his trunk and silently left the room.

There was a cool wind blowing as Harry and Ethan made their way across the grounds under the invisibility cloak. They walked slowly towards the willow tree above the entrance to the tunnel that led to the Shrieking Shack. Once they arrived Harry picked up a fallen branch from the ground and prodded the knot that stayed the tree.

Harry and Ethan slid down the tunnel entrance and into the dark, dank tunnel itself. "What is this place?" asked Ethan.

"This tunnel leads to a place called the Shrieking Shack; it's the deserted house on top of the hill just outside of Hogsmeade. It's outside of the Hogwarts Anti-Apparation wards."

Rafe nodded as they began to walk up the long tunnel. Harry and Ethan pulled out their wands and lit them as they went ahead. After walking for a while Harry saw the entrance to the shack. They entered it.

It was as Harry remembered it. Scruffy, claw marked furniture covered in a decades worth of dust. He and Ethan quickly made their way into the 'living room'. "Right, here we are. How do we start?" asked Harry.

Ethan sat in one of the old armchairs. It promptly collapsed inwards on itself. "Damn," said Ethan springing up from the destroyed chair. "All right let's get to it then." Harry watched as Ethan disappeared with a pop, and reappeared instantly on the other side of the room.

"Impressive," said Harry.

"Thanks. Okay, the first thing you need to know about Apparation is that it is not that hard once you get your mind around a few of the angles. You just saw me jump from one side of the room to the other. I knew where I was going. That is the basic rule in Apparation; always know where you are going. It won't work properly if you're not sure of the destination, and that can result in splinching."

Harry swallowed. Splinching wasn't nice. "So how do you... em... activate Apparation?"

"You have to visualise the place you want to be very clearly. Think of every detail about that particular location that you can. See it clearly in your mind's eye."

"And then?"

"And then, if it's your first time, you pray you don't leave half of yourself behind." Ethan popped back over to Harry's side of the room. "For the first few times you apparate, you have to use your wand to cast the Apparation spell on yourself."

"But you don't always have to do that?"

"No, after you've done it enough times its just natural. You just have to think the spell and it will work without a wand. And, actually, that's the hardest part of Apparation, doing it without a wand."

Harry nodded. And then asked a question that had been bothering him. "How did you learn to Apparate, Ethan?"

"I taught myself last year. You can learn anything from a book, absolutely anything."

Harry laughed. "You should talk to Hermione about books, you hardly ever find her out of one."

Rafe nodded. "She's Muggle-born, isn't she?"

"What if she is," Harry growled defensively.

"Don't get me wrong, Harry. I've got nothing against that. Magic is magic no matter who it belongs to. I just meant you've got a pretty powerful enemy whose whole basis for war is over the purity of blood. Don't you worry about her?"

Harry sighed. "All the time... I've seen to her safety at Hogwarts, though. Voldemort can't touch her here, or Ron."

"How...?"

"The Fidelius charm... a variation that hides them from Voldemort. So... unless I tell Voldemort, he can't get them here."

Rafe looked impressed. "That's some powerful magic. And very effective."

"Yeah... let's get back to Apparation." Rafe nodded. "How long did it take you to learn?"

Ethan shrugged. "Six weeks or so. It won't take you that long, though. Not with someone teaching you how to do it. I had to learn by trial and error, I can guide you through it correctly. Maybe three weeks to a month."

That would be good thought Harry the sooner the better. "Let's get to it then."

*~*~*~*


Author notes: Chapter 6 - Dream's End, was last edited and submitted on Sunday December 12, 2004.

Currently, a massive edit and re-draft is being undertaken with this fic. I know there are a mountain of mistakes buried deep within these cyber-pages, and I'm hoping to catch the majority of them.

Join my Yahoo! group:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/hero_trilogy/

Thanks,

Joe