The Inner Darkness

Chapter 6: The Heartless

Harry had gotten no more than two feet from Sora's door before a startling revelation hit him. In truth, however, it was more like he hit a startling revelation; his legs caught upon something hard and rather invisible. Yelping with surprise, he flung out his arms, desperately trying to catch himself. His seeker reflexes saved him from smearing his face upon the ground; Harry rolled onto his back, taking a look at what tripped him.

"Eh... heh... alright there, Harry?" asked Seamus' voice, though Harry only saw what appeared to be his left leg. The other strange sight was Ron's torso, apparently having left his legs somewhere else. The red-haired boy punched the ground in frustration. They were both dressed in their pajamas.

Rolling his eyes melodramatically, Harry stared at them incredulously. "Just what do you think you two were doing?"

"Eh..." trailed off Seamus, looking rather guilty. "Now, prefect sir, there are no rules saying we cannot snoop around the Gryffindor tower."

"Yeah," filled in Ron, his frustration beginning to melt away. "We were just worried about you Harry... I mean, Sora is supposed to be supreme evil git number one, right? He absorbed all that Inner Darkness... remember?"

Harry sighed and rose to his feet, dusting himself off.

"How much of that did you hear?" he asked sternly.

Seamus and Ron both offered him angelic smiles. "Enough to know that Sora is my new, personal hero... evil git or not," said Ron, folding his hands close to his chin and fluttering his eyes adoringly. Seamus rose, pulling off Harry's invisibility cloak from the two of them, revealing the rest of Ron's body.

"Right on," affirmed Seamus, his expression no less bright. "I'll be certain to send our good Slytherin prefect a pitcher of butterbeer on the rocks... so he can get drunk and then ice down his lad."

Harry could not keep up his serious prefect face for very long. The three friends then started back down the stairs, heading back to their room.

"So, how do you reckon we'll find this Bastian character?" asked Ron kindly.

Harry sighed, realizing that Ron and Seamus must have overheard just about all of their conversation. "Well," shrugged Harry. "I'm not all that sure."

"You could always owl 'im," suggested Seamus with a shrug. "Don't know how they do it, but owls always find whoever you need. You could tell em that Sora's with ya, and that ya gotta be speakin with 'im."

Harry hummed with consideration. "That's a pretty good; you really think Hedwig knows where Bastian is?"

Ron nodded, clasping Harry on the shoulder. "Of course she does, Harry. Owls never fail to deliver a message."

They paused outside of the fifth year dormitories. "Only problem I can be seein with that," thought Seamus aloud, "is how do ya leave school to meet em, if he tells ya where he be?"

"We'll jump over that hurdle when we get to it," reasoned Harry soundly. "First, we gotta find out how Malfoy found out about Riku."

Ron and Seamus both dropped their jaws, not even thinking of that fact. "You think Sora talked to him before?" asked Ron, "I mean, before Malfoy and Zabini tricked him."

Harry shook his head. "Doubtful... he's not been out of my sight longer than a few minutes, with exception to yesterday, when he ran off."

"You think Malfoy be meddling in our affairs?" questioned Seamus.

Harry glanced skeptically to Seamus. "Of course I think he's meddling... just I have no idea how."

Just then, by perfect coincidence, he felt a dull pain within his hand. He flexed it out and grunted, not thinking twice about it. After all, Harry was quite used to the occasional bruise from Quidditch practice.

"Well," deduced Harry conclusively with a yawn. "No sense worrying on about it at this time of night."

Ron also nodded. "I'm exhausted. Sora sure picked a heck of a time to spill his guts."

But it was Seamus who spoke next, shaking his head disdainfully. "Somethin' just don't be adding up 'ere."

"Of course not," muttered Ron. "At this time of the morning, not even a plus sign does."

Harry snorted with amusement while Seamus continued speaking. "Nah, bear with me 'ere. We know for a fact Malfoy was willing to go to great lengths to find out where the Keyblade is, correct?"

"According to Sora, yes," shrugged Harry. "Where is this going?"

Seamus then pointed to Harry. "You also said yesterday that Malfoy was pushin' Dumbledore for information about the Inner Darkness, right?"

Harry nodded shortly, while Ron yawned with fatigue.

"My question is: What could possibly have given Malfoy the idea that opening up this world for consumption would be a good thing?" Seamus stood tall with mock pride for a moment, and stuck out his chin proudly. "Even if I were the son of a Death Eater and evil to the core as well..." his expression faltered that moment, "... I still wouldn't want to destroy the world. What is to gain from that?"

Harry pensively scratched his chin, considering Seamus' question. Why indeed, he thought. Malfoy was a git, no question about it, but would he really go so far as to end the entire world; would he be willing to kill Muggles, Muggleborns and even Pureblooded wizards?

Ron snorted, not giving that sentiment a strong regard. "Malfoy would blow up the entire world just to brag he was the first to do it."

That was Ron for you, realized Harry. Stubborn and uncompromising; that was his best friend. Nothing could even bend him let alone break him; Harry only wished he had that kind of strength once and awhile. One of these days, Harry knew he would not be able to overcome an obstacle by himself. While he would be well guided by Hermione's book smarts, he had a hunch that it would be Ron's unbreakable, stubborn will that would serve as Harry's armor, giving him the strength to persevere when his own fallible energy had expired.

"I think Malfoy might be under the sway of the Inner Darkness," suggested Harry with a tired frown. "Who knows exactly where he will go and where he will stop."

Ron and Seamus both exchanged mischievous glances. "Well, if Sora's story is true... we know exactly where he has stopped tonight," opined Ron cheerfully. He playfully doubled over, cradling his crotch with a laugh.

At that, Seamus and Harry both chuckled, feeling the tension of the conversation beginning to melt away.

"Anyway, let's get some sleep," stated Harry, "busy day tomorrow... gotta owl this Bastian, have to take our Charms Final and then our Potions Final in the evening."

"Oy," muttered Seamus, grabbing his head. "Might as well just sleep in for the latter. Probably get a better grade."

With that, the three Gryffindor students entered their dorm, and collapsed into their beds. In moments, Harry could hear Ron and Seamus snoring peacefully. He crossed his arms behind his head and thought.

Here he was again, he realized. It was way past his bedtime and he was simply exhausted, however his eyelids would simply not shut. He could not get comfortable; his body was heating up the wrong parts of the bed. Trying to adjust himself and find a cool place on his pillow only created friction and heated the bed more. The sheets did not seem to line up tonight, with the light sheet folding uncomfortably at the foot of the bed, irritating Harry just enough to keep him from finding comfort.

With a slight groan, he finally gave up the effort to get comfortable and lay there, content not to sleep despite his desire too. There were just so many questions floating through his head, and the answers just were not forthcoming. Who was Sora... really? What was Draco planning... did the Inner Darkness truly exist, or was Snape just trying to scare them all with that demonstration? Finally, if Snape was right and Sora had taken in all that Inner Darkness himself, could he even be trusted?

No easy answers came to his mind, long after he had settled into his comforter. He sighed, taking in a nose full of air, and blowing it out of his mouth in a show of vehement frustration. Tomorrow, he would have Hedwig find this Bastian kid and deliver him a message. Yes, he would do that after his Charms exam, and before speaking to Professor Dumbledore about Sora's story.

Of course! Harry sat up quickly. Dumbledore! He flushed with embarrassment at the realization that this simple idea had eluded him for so long. Professor Dumbledore would know exactly what to do. Likely, with a simple incantation, Dumbledore could find this Bastian as well as the Keyblade, now that he knew what he was looking for. Within minutes, Dumbledore could Apparate wherever he needed in order to collect it. With the Keyblade under his protection, nothing would be able to unlock this world.

Part of Harry wanted to rush off right now to report this news. However, upon seeing "1:30" blaring painfully in red numbers from his dresser, he decided against it. Harry had set his alarm for six to wake up in time to drag himself to Quidditch practice, but after, he would be able to run right into Dumbledore's office and tell him everything he learned from Sora.

And so, Harry played the waiting game, resting but not sleeping as he lowered himself back into his uncomfortably hot bed, shifting and turning in a futile attempt to find comfort.

* * * * * *

Harry was sluggish that day at Quidditch practice. Sora was there; Harry had dragged him out of bed (though he did not put up much of a fight, resigning it to himself that Harry would never take his eyes off him again). He had complied listlessly, but after seeing the actual game of Quidditch, watched practice with a fascinated gleam upon his face. Harry was glad that Colin Creevey had desisted his bandwagon hatred of Sora and had showed him how to work his camera, as he took good shots of Harry catching golf balls thrown by Alicia Spinnet. When Harry caught a shot five feet off the ground, Colin clapped and cheered while Sora stood up and snapped the picture. Then, both boys laughed about it like schoolgirls.

Harry was glad to see that Colin and Sora were having some fun together. They appeared to be of the same age and maturity with Sora likely a year or two younger than Harry. More importantly, Harry realized, if Colin was able to befriend him, that was one additional clue that somehow, Sora might have escaped the hold of the Inner Darkness unscathed. While the younger Creevey boy did not have many friends, it was obvious to Harry that he picked them with care. Though, in truth, he didn't know much about who Colin was other than the annoying kid with the camera. There was just nothing else that he felt he needed to know.

Now that Colin no longer hated Sora, however, it seemed that they were friends for much longer than a single Quidditch practice.

"So, the Bludgers are the balls that fly around and kill people," Sora was laughing while Harry smirked with amusement, following behind the two other boys after practice. "And Beaters are the ones who smack Bludgers into people... trying to kill them?"

Colin laughed out loud. "Yeah... wicked, isn't it?"

"My kind of game!" chuckled Sora, who turned back to Harry. "Can I play?"

Harry shook his head, a small hint of amusement in his eyes. "Gryffindors only, and even if you were one, we have no spots available on the team."

"So, you going to classes with Harry?" continued to press Colin.

Sora nodded a few times. "Yeah, though so far, the classes have stunk."

Colin needed no reminder of the Potions incident, and nor would Sora have had time to give one had he needed one. As if on cue, the entire Slytherin Quidditch team, led by Malfoy, exited the front of the school and headed right for them.

"Oh crap," muttered Sora, who froze solidly in his tracks. Colin swallowed a few nervous lumps in his throat. Harry did not slow his step and soon overtook his two hesitant companions.

"Don't worry," coaxed Harry as Malfoy drew closer. It was obvious they were spotted, so there was not point hiding. "They won't try anything while I'm here."

Malfoy was flanked by his two beaters, Crabbe and Goyle (it was the only position in Quidditch suitable for their intellect) and followed by four younger Slytherins that Harry did not know by name. The Slytherin team was indeed in the midst of a reconstruction season, with Malfoy and his two cronies as the team elders.

"Potter," nodded Malfoy, with an indifferent tone. Harry did not miss the glaze of contempt in his eyes as he regarded Sora. Sora tightened his jaw and returned Malfoy's stare without falter. Colin looked rather nervous, a result of the potentially brewing confrontation.

"Malfoy," returned Harry with kind, continuing to move forward.

The Slytherin Quidditch team stopped moving and stood in Harry's way.

"Something you want?" continued Harry, his voice even and deadpan. He looked at Malfoy questioningly.

Draco drew closer to Harry, smirking hatefully. He stopped directly in front of him, staring him in the face.

"We've known each other for quite some time, have we not, Potter?" inquired Malfoy in a sly drawl.

Harry did not falter nor back down a step. "No. You have never known me, Malfoy. Nor will you ever."

"Indeed..." replied Draco flatly. To Harry's disbelief, Draco put his hand upon his shoulder. "I've given you advice in the past, have I not?"

Harry cringed under Draco's touch, but did not brush his hand away. He would not be intimidated by Malfoy; he would let Malfoy do his worst, and he would spit it right back into his face.

"Your advice has always been as unwelcome as your presence," came the cool and collected answer from Harry.

Harry's blood froze as Draco's hand slid from Harry's shoulder to the back of his neck, sending shards of ice shooting down his spine. His hand was cold and yet surprisingly smooth, like the flat of a dagger pressing into his skin. Draco's hold upon Harry seemed affectionate and was drawing a few long stares from his teammates. Harry decided if Draco tried to kiss him, he would knock his teeth and then, when he recovered from his shock, would hex him with every spell he knew words for. But, until that happened, he would not draw back under this touch. Malfoy had never cowed him, and this strange show was not going to be a start.

"I'll be frank, Potter," stated Draco airily. "Don't fuck with me. Whatever you are about to try and do, it won't work. I am one step ahead of you and always will be."

Harry stared at Draco long and hard, the hand upon the back of his neck turning from cool to simply chilling, causing Harry's skin to clam up under his touch. He had never heard Malfoy swear before, and he found his wall of resolution being tried by his intimidating words. Crabbe and Goyle stood a few steps back and made no move to insure the protection of their seeker.

"Seems to me like you are always one step behind me," riposted Harry skillfully. "In any competition we have."

Harry's comment did not put Draco on the defensive as much as he anticipated that it would. Malfoy lifted his upper lip in amusement and leaned forward, whispering indirectly into his ear. Harry again fought the urge to push him away.

"Wherever you go, Potter... I'll be watching you. Quit while you are still ahead. Meddling in other people's affairs is like playing with matches. Sooner or later, either you or perhaps one of your friends will get burned."

Harry scowled visibly and crossed his arms in a show of defiance. "I'll be there to protect my friends. Don't even think about trying to harm them."

Draco cackled once, without mirth. Harry felt the hand tighten upon his neck, only for a moment, before the grip loosened itself. He kept his eyes rooted to Malfoy's and continued speaking. "I won't quit, either. I know what you are trying to do, and I won't let you do it."

Malfoy let his hand fall from Harry's neck, allowing his skin to breathe once more. He then took his eyes off Harry, to regard Sora. Colin put a hand to Sora's chest, making a show of either defending Sora... or holding him back. Harry was not sure which.

"Perhaps you should question the source of your information, Potter, as much as the information itself," he suggested, his voice hissing in the morning air like a snake, preparing to strike.

Sora made no move to push passed Colin, but held out his clenched fist. "The further you sink into darkness, Malfoy, the quicker it'll consume you..."

Malfoy pointed a finger brazenly at Sora. "You best grow eyes in the back of your head, Muggle. You'll need them."

With that, Draco pushed past Harry, his shoulder striking forcefully into his. The rest of the team followed him, smirking and jeering at Sora with evil quips and snide laughter. Sora returned their antics with an impassive frown, while Harry bit his lip with anger, forcing himself to ignore Draco.

They continued a silent walk back to the school. Without words, they stomped their shoes upon the steps leading to the main entrance, ridding them of snow, and entered.

"Sora, come with me," requested Harry as Sora removed one of Seamus' old Gryffindor scarfs from his neck. "We have to send a letter."

"Can I come too?" asked Colin, with glassy eyed admiration.

"No," replied Harry, as he calmly rid himself of his Quidditch pads and, with a swish of his wand, banished them to his room. Ah, the pleasures of being a prefect, Harry smiled to himself. He was now allowed to use magic in the corridors of Hogwarts so long as the action assisted him in his duties. It was a minor misuse of station privileges to do these little tricks like this, but a misnomer never would hurt anyone. "I'm afraid this letter is private."

Colin frowned, but Sora smacked him on the shoulder playfully. "It's alright. We'll be back to the Great Hall shortly and have breakfast with ya!"

At that, the mousy haired boy nodded appreciatively and left the two of them in the Main Hall. Without further delay, Harry set pace for the Owlery.

"He's a pretty cool guy when you get to know him," said Sora as they walked through the deserted corridors. Most of Hogwarts was not yet awoken at seven thirty in the morning, as first block did not begin until nine.

"Who, Colin?" asked Harry. He hid a slight smirk.

Sora chuckled. "No, Malfoy..."

Picking up on his sarcasm, Harry shrugged. "He's alright," lied Harry, who honestly felt that Colin was one of the most annoying kids at Hogwarts. "Very... obsessive." Harry had no better word to describe Colin Creevey. Every day of Quidditch practice, Colin would wake with the Quidditch team and would always watch Harry from the stands, cheering for him and snapping pictures. It had occurred to Harry around fourth year that this boy was obsessed with him, for what reasons, he did not wish to know. Perhaps Ron was right, and Colin fancied him... that way. Strangely, it did not bother Harry all that much. At least it would explain his behavior, Harry mused.

But, Harry had seen the way Colin had acted with Sora; he had acted like a perfectly normal fourteen-year-old boy who was excited about Quidditch, not Harry. Perhaps, one day, Harry would just have to ask Colin what it was that drove him to be so loyal to him.

They entered the owlery, and were greeted by several hundred hoots, sounding from owls of all sizes. Each owl seemed to implore Harry, with a begging gleam in their eyes, to pick them to send his letter.

"Wow..." exhaled Sora, who then wrinkled his nose at the smell of animals. "... this is amazing!"

Harry was reminded of his first time in the owlery and through the look in Sora's eyes, relived that same sense of awe all over again.

"Who are we writing letters too?" asked Sora, looking at Harry curiously.

Harry moved over to one of the worn desks near the cages and with simple, wandless grace, willed a quill to fly out of the ink into his hands and a sheet of parchment to shoot from one of the drawers. It settled in front of him, and without a break in his motion, he wrote.

Dear Bastian,

You don't know who I am, but I am a friend of Sora...

Harry paused for a minute to consider his words while Sora read from over his shoulder.

Sora has told me of you and of the danger this world is in. Further information has made me a believer, and so, Sora and I must meet you. The Keyblade is of utmost importance, so keep it safe until our meeting. Without it, we will be facing some major problems.

Please respond by owl with either your address and leave your fireplace ope...

Harry sighed as he cast a simple Erasing Charm upon that last sentence, the ink vanishing before his very eyes. Flooing would not work, he realized, for his house would not likely be connected to the Floo Network, and Harry wasn't about to figure out how connect it.

Please write a response on the back of this letter as well as your address. We will set up a meeting point in another letter. This might be weird, but you have got to respond. It's very important.

Sincerely,

Harry Potter

Harry sighed and lowered his quill, wondering just how this letter would be received. He glanced over his shoulder to seek Sora's approval.

"Well, what do you think?" he asked.

Sora was wincing. "It'll be strange... but, I think he'll respond. How are you going to get the message to him, anyway?"

Harry moved with haste to the perch Hedwig was resting upon. With an eager hoot, she drifted down to Harry's outstretched arm. He calmly tied the letter to her leg with a white ribbon. After nipping Harry's finger with a kind pinch, she was gone, soaring hastily out the owlery window.

"I don't know," replied Harry with a shrug. "They just always seem to know."

Harry turned to leave, but just as he was about to step away from the desk, another thought hit him. His godfather Sirius would want to know about this. At the end of his fourth year, the words that the escaped convict had used were simple and straight forward. He wanted to know of anything in Harry's life that might present him with added danger. Heck, he might even know about the Inner Darkness, and even if he didn't, he was certain that one man would. It did not take a genius to realize that Sirius could very easily contact Professor Lupin and ask the question of him. Harry wouldn't do it; he did not feel comfortable writing to his third year teacher for the first time in two years, especially with a letter asking him about the end of the world.

A second parchment shot out from the desk, and Harry began to write again. Sora, in lieu of inquiring Harry's reasoning, read on.

Dear Snuffles,

I am sorry that I have not written you sooner. Mid semester exams, Quidditch practice, and other duties have monopolized my spare time and have rendered me brain dead. Strange things have been happening at Hogwarts. A boy named Sora has appeared from another world, from some black hole that Dumbledore called The Inner Darkness. Do you know anything about that?

Also, people have been acting strangely lately, much stranger than normal. What we know so far is that a boy named Bastian held the key that can 'unlock this world' and 'allow it to be consumed by darkness'. I know it sounds crazy, but too many subtle clues are pointing toward this end, and it is concerning me. Do write back if any of this is familiar to you.

Hope everything is going well. I will see you as soon as I can.

After snorting once at the absurdity of the letter, he nodded. This was how he wanted it, he did not want this to seem like a very nervous letter. He wanted to simply inform and perhaps encourage his godfather to get some information himself.

Harry did not sign his name, knowing full well that Sirius would know the sender of this message by the name given to him. After rolling up the parchment, he beckoned to a non-descript barn owl that happily flew toward Harry. Once the letter was secure, it took off through the window, vanishing into the gray cloudy sky.

"Who was that for?" asked Sora, as the two boys left the owlery. Harry calmly withdrew his timepiece from his pocket. It was approaching eight; Ron, Hermione and Seamus would be having breakfast in the Great Hall momentarily.

"My godfather," said Harry quickly as they passed the first floor Prefect's bathroom. Harry stopped and made a quick turn. "Listen, I've got to get changed out of my Quidditch robes... can you stay here for a moment?"

Sora shrugged and leaned up against the wall while Harry quickly murmured the password to the first floor prefect's bathroom room. ("Ten Fold") With a few flicks of his wand, he summoned his school robes from his room upstairs, and just as he finished changing, they squeezed under the bathroom door, appearing before him.

Harry grunted and rolled his head about a few times, feeling stiffness and a small amount of pain in his neck, where Draco had touched him. Dismissing it as upset nerves, Harry donned his school robes and banished his red Quidditch robe back to his room. After washing his hands and face, he proceeded from the bathroom. After nodding to Sora, they continued to the Great Hall and entered without further encounter.

Today, set and defined groups of students clustered together at near empty tables. It was clear that at least half of the students did not have exams in the morning and were sleeping in late. From the half that did have exams soon, only a small representative of these students had it in the first block.

Of these students, the fifth year Gryffindors had formed a tight knit group, going over some final Charms... with exception to Ron, who seemed to be yelling at Seamus about something. No other fifth years were present in the hall, save for Mandy Brocklehurst, a cute, brown-haired Ravenclaw, who was sitting with a group of sixth years.

Colin sat removed from the fifth years, eating a quiet breakfast by himself. Sora broke from Harry, sitting across from Colin, while Harry subtly took the seat next to Ron.

"... will NOT matter, so long as Hufflepuff doesn't loose to Slytherin by more than three hundred points..." Ron was arguing, and did not even notice Harry sitting next to him. "... we will still be in the lead for the Quidditch cup."

"Malfoy may fly as well as a penguin," retorted Seamus, "but Abbot flies about as well as a brick. It is going to be a long game and will be determined by the chasers, not the seekers. By the time the Snitch is caught, the score might very well be up in the thousands!"

Harry smirked and listened, waiting until the two passionate Quidditch lovers noticed he was there.

"I would not count out the Hufflepuff front three," went on Ron, "What they lack in ability, they have in experience. The Slytherin chasers are mostly raw. Third years and younger. Sure, they are naturals, but they just don't have rhythm yet."

"Ok," continued Seamus. "So lets say the chasers play to stalemate and Malfoy beats out Abbot to the Snitch; that'll put Slytherin at one hundred and fifty points over."

"Then," proclaimed Ron happily, "so long as we don't loose to Ravenclaw by more than one hundred points, we will go into the final match with Hufflepuff this spring in first place, with Ravenclaw in second place by a substantial margin... oh, hello Harry!" He finally saw Harry out of the corner of his eyes.

Harry smirked, lightly tapping his fingers on the tap. "Nice to be finally noticed."

Ron offered Harry an apologetic grin. "I'm sorry about that. So, you send the letter?"

"Yeah," replied Harry. "We'll see how it goes."

Seamus was on the verge of speaking, however, a terrific flutter of wings above their heads alerted them that the post was here. As always, morning post was a chaotic time as owls swooped in low, dropping off packages and letters to all ages of students. Hermione, who had been studying with Lavender, Parvati and Neville, looked up and caught her Daily Prophet.

"Sora's on the cover," exclaimed Hermione energetically, at once commanding the attention of the other fifth year Gryffindors. Sora was already looking on as Colin read a copy he received outloud. Harry joined the steadily growing crowd of heads hovering around Hermione. Indeed, upon the cover, in a small picture next to an article was Sora, staring out over the lake at Hogwarts. The wind was blowing through his hair and he was staring unblinkingly at a fixed point beyond the water.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hogwarts' Mystery Boy: Dark Wizard?

Could Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry have a New Dangerous Mind?

Associated Press: Rita Skeeter

"... and [Sora] just appeared right smack in the middle of the classroom, shot out from this black, gushing rift!" states Pansy Parkinson, a fifth year Slytherin at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Like it or not, dear readers, your children attending this prestigious magical school are, once again, in grave danger. This mystery boy, known only as "Sora" has already started a reign of destructive behavior that is beginning to engulf the school.

"My potion blew up at the exact time he arrived!" cried a mournful and regretful first year Gryffindor named Matty Harrison. It is doubtful that this was a coincidence, for nearly twenty students were treated for severe burns.

"The boy pushed me to the ground, and if my friends did not restrain him, he probably would have beaten me to death!" muttered a very angry but very scared Dean Thomas, a fifth year Gryffindor in high standing. "He had the look of a madman on his face!"

"This boy, Mr. Sora, is a menace," declared the Potions Master of Hogwarts, Professor Severus Snape. "He insulted me in front of my whole class, instigated a riot, and failed to attend his detentions. He is clearly up to no good and is a hazard to all who call this institution their home."

Professor Snape, also an expert in the field of Dark Arts, led this reporter into a horrific explanation of a very controversial theory called The Inner Darkness, documented well over 900 years ago.

"There are only two types of people who emerge from the Inner Darkness: The Heartless and Dark Wizards. Since our Mr. Sora is still quite human looking, the latter proves conclusive."

Yet, Headmaster Dumbledore, who has so far refused to comment, remains adamant on his stance that the boy will be kept at Hogwarts and be allowed to freely roam the grounds until proof of guilt has been found.

"It just makes our job harder," states Slytherin Prefect Draco Malfoy, "It is my job to ensure the safety and protection of everyone at Hogwarts. How can I do that when an insane Dark Wizard is allowed to roam the grounds?"

And to continue pressing upon previous articles, this has nothing to do with the wonderful and kind Hermione Granger. She continues to maintain academic brilliance and a reputation for her kindness and generosity all over Hogwarts. If only a ruffian Dark Wizard like this Sora could learn from her excellent example, Hogwarts would be such a safer place.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By now, it was clear that the students in the Great Hall were staring at Sora with much more suspicion than they were a moment ago. While Harry, Ron and Seamus gave Dean very hard looks, he ignored them, staring at Sora with plain hostility. Colin Creevey, to Harry's surprise, made a show of crinkling up his paper and throwing it to the ground.

"It's barmy," Harry heard Colin say with conviction.

Sora gripped his head in his hands, his elbows resting against the table. His eyes, while hidden from view, were no doubt shut. Harry could just see the words within Sora's head, bouncing around with chaotic energy. When is it all going to end?

Harry knew exactly what it was like to be famous and to not understand why. Even now, he still did not understand how his fame had come about. Sure, he had resisted a Killing Curse, but how did that make him famous? Why wasn't his mother famous, for she was the only reason he had been able to do it? Sora was in a similar yet totally opposite situation; even Harry found the irony to be rather bitter. Everyone in the Wizarding World hated Sora, for reasons the boy clearly just did not understand. Heck, for all Sora knew, he was a Dark Wizard. Amnesia could have made him forget, realized Harry. But, nonetheless, he did not seem to play the role of one. Sora might have been passionate and stubborn to the point of irritation, but that was a "Ron" quality, not a "Malfoy" quality. Sora was closer to his best friend than his worst enemy, and that was a good thing.

"You know that Skeeter woman will sabotage anyone for a story," declared Hermione properly, tossing her Daily Prophet upon the table. "She's only nice to people when she has to be."

Apparently, everyone else also saw that reference to her on the bottom of the article... Rita's none-too-subtle ploy to keep on Hermione's good side.

"Yeah well, don't everyone look at me like I'm some sort of turncoat," sneered Dean coldly. "Sora attacked me and you had to hold him back. That was what I told Skeeter... she put the rest in to make it sound more juicy."

Harry was half-inclined to agree with him, but Ron would not have it.

"I bet she did," muttered Ron condescendingly. "Mr. Innocent."

Dean stood up from his chair in outrage. "Do you have something to say to me, Weasley? You want to call me something?"

Ron also leapt out of his seat, closing the distance between them. "I think you heard me. You are a whiner and a liar."

Dean scowled visibly, and shoved Ron firmly in the chest. "Step off, you git."

"Stop it!" demanded Hermione, also standing. Harry rose as well, but was not quick enough to stop what happened next.

Ron rushed back at Dean, wrapping his arms around his waist and lifting him into the air. They both went down, a mass of tangled feet and hands, kicking and punching each other.

And Harry stood there, in total shock. It had happened so fast... they were all sitting there talking, and exactly ten seconds later, Dean and Ron were rolling on the ground, slamming into the benches along the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables like two eight year olds fighting over a toffee. Harry had never seen such a serious fight between two Gryffindors in all his time at Hogwarts. Ron was holding no bars, driving fist after fist into Dean's chest, while Dean currently locked a handful of Ron's red hair with his right hand and was smacking his head into the ground repeatedly.

By the time Harry snapped out of his shock, one of Dean's eyes was swelling, and Ron was bleeding from the nostrils. The few others in the Great Hall had gathered around this ensuing brawl and were watching with stunned expressions upon their faces. Ron had rolled Dean over and was now on top of him, punishing him brutally.

And once his shock had played its course, there was nothing left but pure disgust. Harry sneered and drew his wand, without thinking.

"Stupefy!" stated Harry sharply, a purple ray striking Ron (who happened to be on top) in the back and rendering him unconscious at once. The frenzied Dean did not realize it and, still locked in his grapple, rolled Ron over. He was about to drive his fist into his face when Harry cried out again.

"Stupefy!"

His spell hit Dean dead on, propelling him off of Ron and rolling him into the Gryffindor benches. Both boys had been laid out flat out, and yet, Harry did not lower his wand. Never before had he seen such a thing in Hogwarts. Fistfights were punishable by one hundred points and detentions with Filch. They did not happen often, if ever.

Sora caught his eye at that moment. He was staring at Harry with an unreadable expression in his ocean blue eyes. Both of his hands had locked themselves into his thick head of hair. They seemed to both be sharing the same, unspoken thought.

It had to be the Inner Darkness; Harry was sure of it. There could be no other explanation for Ron and Dean's behavior as of late. With a deep frown, Harry withdrew his pocket watch. 8:50. He sighed and then looked to Hermione, who was still staring at the scene with a pallid expression, her jaw completely agape.

"Tell Professor Flitwick that us three will be late," explained Harry dourly. Before Hermione could answer, Harry turned away. "Colin, are you busy?"

Colin Creevey seemed totally bewildered to have been picked from the crowd by Harry Potter. The small mob of students eventually began to disperse, once the shock of the scene had worn out.

"No..." stammered Colin, looking confused. "I'm... free until third block."

"Alright, Harry," sighed Hermione turning away. "I'll tell him."

Seamus also seemed eager to help, but Harry waved him away. "Go take the test."

Colin licked his lips timidly while Sora took his flank, staring down at the two unconscious boys.

"Help me with Dean," stated Harry, pointing to Colin. The mousy haired boy nodded with apprehension.

Parvati and Lavender, looking totally spooked, were led out by Neville, while Seamus and Hermione quietly stared at Harry for a bit longer.

"Come on," said Harry with a soft voice, "you two are going to be late for your test. Just tell Flitwick that I'm sorry. I am certain he will let me make it up after I speak with Dumbledore."

Hermione nodded weakly, a depressed look upon her face. "When Ron wakes up, give him a good smack for me please!" With that, she turned heel and stomped after Neville, Parvati and Lavender.

Seamus winced visibly. "You sure you don't need help?"

"Colin will help me move these two up to Dumbledore's office," explained Harry. "We are fine, thanks Seamus."

The Irish boy nodded and turned to leave. "Alright, good luck."

Once Seamus had left, most of the breakfast crowd had already gone. With a sigh, Harry swished his wand and lifted Ron into the air with a "Morbilicorpus!"

Colin repeated the spell and was able to lift Dean into the air with his own wand, while Sora watched at his side. With a dull sense of duty, Harry led the way, followed by Colin and Sora.

This was getting really spooky, Harry thought as Ron's form floated in front of him. Ron and Dean both lost their cool with only the slightest bit of provocation from each other, and Harry had had to use excessive magic to split them apart. What was happening to them all?

The Christmas season had gripped Hogwarts with a loving embrace that Harry just did not share at this moment. The suits of armor that lined this corridor were, as usual, shined red and green from their inner depths and sang soft carols as the somber procession marched by. Harry was just not in the mood to hear them.

A few minutes later, Harry declared the password to move the Headmaster's gargoyle ("Lemon Drop.") and was force-marching Ron up the stairs.

"So this is where his office is!" exclaimed Colin with no small amount of energy. "I can't say that I've ever been here..."

Sora glanced over to Colin, a slight smirk on his face. "Wuss. I've only been here for two days, and already this is my second time."

Colin frowned and looked to his wand. Upon seeing Colin's sour expression, Sora hit him on the shoulder playfully.

"Gee, lighten up Colin. It was just a joke."

Colin continued to frown and ignored Sora, while Harry lost his smirk, replacing it with a shake of his head. Before Harry could think of something to say, they arrived at the top of the steps. The door to Dumbledore's office opened, and Harry's jaw dropped open.

The person behind the door was Lucius Malfoy. Upon seeing Harry, the man froze in place, his face was already flushed with anger. His pallid cheeks turned from light pink to raw red. In his left hand, he grasped an ornamental snake cane. He was holding it tightly, in a clenched fist.

"Well..." he hissed sourly, his cruel gray eyes moving up and down Harry, sizing him up. "Mr. Potter..."

Harry lip trembled, but he maintained a rigid glare at Draco's father. There was a tense moment of silence; Harry just had nothing to say to the Death Eater At last, Mr. Malfoy broke the silence. He pointed the head of his staff to Ron and Dean.

"What manner of creature assaulted these boys, and why did it not finish them off?"

Harry's eyes narrowed with hostility as he watched the blonde-haired man, staring down at him with anger. The last time he had seen this man, he was dressed in a black robe with a mask over his face. It had been that night... that night Voldemort had come back to life. Before, seeing Lucius Malfoy had triggered an instinct of hesitation and fear, but this time, he felt nothing but rage. He stood proud and did not shy away.

"We are looking for the Headmaster," stated Harry boldly.

Lucius curled his upper lip into a sneer, and without another word, pushed passed Harry and the two younger boys, his cloak pulled tightly to his back. Harry followed the trim of his cape as he faded down the spiral staircase, disappearing from view.

"Like father, like son, huh?" asked Sora, again punching Colin in the shoulder, trying to get a reaction from him. At last, Colin gave a simple snort and a smirk.

"Hey," asked Harry, looking to Sora. "How'd you know?"

Sora fixed Harry with a bland look. "How you think? Malfoy and his dad, they aren't exactly apples and oranges... can't be more than two families with looks like that."

"True," admitted Harry with a bit of humor. He could not be completely disarmed by Sora, however, for the sight of Lucius Malfoy made him feel quite ill.

Harry finally gathered his wits and continued forward, dragging Ron in tow. They passed through the still-open ornate doors of the room. As always, Dumbledore's office was as colorful as it was ancient, with shelves containing all manner of books. Strange and beautiful artifacts mounted them, in kind. Sleeping pictures dominated the rest of the wall space, depicting the Headmasters of the past years.

And behind his desk sat a very depressed looking Dumbledore; his head was lowered and a sad sparkle was visible within his eyes. His long beard fell over his folded hands as he looked up, without surprise. He did not give much regard to the two floating and unconscious boys.

"What can I do for you five?" The headmaster asked with a somber hint to his voice.

Harry frowned deeply, wondering the punishment Dumbledore would lay down. After so carelessly loosing one hundred and seventy points, at this rate, Gryffindor would be in negative numbers by Christmas Holiday.

"They were fighting, Professor," sighed Harry, feeling as though that, in a modest way, he was betraying Ron. "Something is happening at Hogwarts... people are acting strange, even before Sora arrived."

The Headmaster slowly stood from his desk. "Indeed, Harry, indeed. " With a slow purposeful gait, the headmaster approached one of his shelves and withdrew a bowl from the top that Harry was very familiar with. He had touched the water within once, last year, and had been drawn into one of Dumbledore's old memories. This was a Pensive, suspected Harry.

"Sora, have you remembered anything from your past yet?"

Colin and Harry both looked to Sora, who nodded. "Yes, sir. I told Harry everything."

Sora, once again, launched into an explanation of all his dreams as well as the images he had received while with Malfoy. No detail was spared, and by the end, Professor Dumbledore looked as he had one time before, when he had saved Harry from Barty Crouch Jr. His kind blue eyes seemed to loose their sparkle and his jaw was set firmly. While maybe not as angry at Malfoy as he was at the imposture, that focused expression of his was enough to make Harry a bit fearful.

"Mr. Malfoy tricked you like that, and then threatened you?" the old man asked, his voice firm and powerful.

Sora nodded shortly. "Yes, sir."

Somewhere during the course of Sora's explanation, Ron and Dean had begun to come to, thus canceling Harry and Colin's spell. They both feel to the ground with a thud. While still unconscious, they were groaning and moving, however, Dumbledore seemed to hold no interest in them.

"Sora, who have you told this dream too... and who have you discussed this Keyblade business with?"

Sora paused for a moment, considering carefully. "Um... well, some of the fifth years... but I only told Harry about the Keyblade."

"Sora..." proclaimed Dumbledore, leaning forward. "Have you felt any pains in your body? Dull pains that just don't seem to go away?"

"Well," he began, rubbing his chest a bit. "Its sort of aches where I had that cut... the nurse healed up..."

Harry considered this for a moment, rubbing his neck, which was still sore with stiffness. As if by magic, however, the stiffness faded and the pain disappeared.

"And what about you, Harry?" asked Dumbledore.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck again. "I've... kinda been sore for the last few days... in my hand, and then in my neck."

"Did Mr. Malfoy touch you in these places?" prompted Dumbledore, a hard, cold expression on his face.

"Er..." Harry trailed off, remembering the handshake Malfoy had given him, as well as the grasp on the back of his neck. It was all too clear now where the Headmaster was going with this. "Yes... yes he did."

Without even using his wand, Professor Dumbledore lifted his hand from the desk and pointed at Harry. "Finite Incantatum!"

A slight distortion fell over Harry; it passed a moment later.

"There appears to be no spell in effect," explained the Headmaster, "however, if it is as I expected, Mr. Malfoy might have cancelled his Lurker Hex just a moment ago to cover himself. No doubt he was able to hear our entire conversation up to this point."

"Lurker Hex?" asked Harry, with mild suspicion.

"A Dark Arts spell," supplied Colin Creevey, his head lowered as if ashamed he knew this information. "It is illegal, but not punishable by time in Azkaban."

Harry and Sora both looked to Colin. He had never studied a Lurker Hex in his time, and he was a year older than Colin. How, exactly, did Colin know about this?

Colin shifted under the weight of Harry's eyes, but kept his head lowered.

"Indeed," commented the Headmaster softly, not even taking notice of Colin's strange knowledge. "A simple spell - too insignificant to set off the wards around the school. Its simplicity and easy detection make it a poor choice of spell for a powerful dark wizard, but these same traits make it a spell learnable by even the most inexperienced of the sort."

The Headmaster glanced down at his hands, as if only now remembering he still held a pensive. "Let us not worry about Mr. Malfoy right now. It's providence that you have arrived right now, for I was going to request Sora's presence this evening."

"Well, er..." Harry frowned, looking to Ron and Dean's stirring forms. "What about them?"

"Nothing there to worry about," said Professor Dumbledore softly. "Mr. Thomas needs to work on his right hook and Ron needs to work on blocking and defense. I fear they are wizards and not bare knuckle boxers for a reason."

Harry, Colin and Sora all fell completely slackjaw. For the first time since their meeting had began, after their run in with Lucius Malfoy, Dumbledore's eyes twinkled knowingly. It was as if despair and anger just could not find a home within the old wizard for more than a moment.

Dumbledore looked at Harry evenly upon seeing the look of total confusion. "You, Mr. Thomas and Mr. Weasley are fifteen year old boys. In my long years of life, I have found that the best and most memorable lessons are the one taught by oneself... and when these lessons can be applied in my administration, I do not interfere."

Harry blinked with confusion. "What do you mean?"

The Headmaster smiled warmly, his eyes kindly shining with wisdom. "Mr. Thomas and Mr. Weasley both taught each other a very important lesson today... and shall be given a chance to learn this lesson shortly after waking up. When both of them realize how much pain they are in, perhaps they shall learn that fighting is not always the best solution."

At that, Sora nodded with understanding while Harry seemed utterly shocked. Colin seemed to glow bright with admiration for the Headmaster.

"Anyway," stated the Professor as he set down the Pensive upon the desk. "Sora, would you care to try something that might have a great effect in restoring your memory?"

Sora nodded without hesitation. "Of course!"

"This little bowl can help," explained the Headmaster, pushing it across his desk, directly in front of Sora with a soft grinding of porcelain against wood. The very nature of mystery had Harry scratching his chin with contemplation. How, exactly, could Sora's memory be restored by a Pensive? He wondered.

"Um... what is it?" asked Sora softly, for it was clear that his knowledge of wizarding artifacts was far inferior to Harry's. In fact, Sora seemed even more clueless than usual, as if wondering whether he should stare into the bowl of water or attempt to wash his hands.

Dumbledore's kind, disarming smile was enough to put him at ease. Harry shifted his focus from the bowl to the other boy, who moved directly to his other side. Colin stared on as well, but Harry could not read his thoughts. Spending so much time in the past - making such a point to ignore Colin in previous encounters, had put a blinder over his face. Harry, usually pretty good at reading people, couldn't figure out Colin's current train of thought.

"This is similar to a Pensive," he glanced up to Harry with a very subtle nod, a mere bob of his head, as if acknowledging his thoughts and approving of his conclusions - even if they were wrong. "But, this is quite different. It is a Reminiscer, made with a similar sort of spell to a Pensive, but with the opposite purpose. I spent the better part of two days working on this artifact and I am eager to see if it, indeed, works."

Harry licked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, thinking deeply. Never before had he heard of a Reminiscer, though his own experience with magical artifacts was quite limited.

"While a Pensive is used to store complete memories from the brain... a Reminiscer is used to restore incomplete memories ." The Professor slowly rose, drawing his ancient wand from his robe. With a bow of his hand, he pointed the wand into the water, the tip barely breaking the surface tension, sending ripples across the face of the liquid. "Now, Sora, if you wish to do this, I recommend you hold on to both Harry and Colin."

Sora stared with unblinking, azure eyes at Dumbledore's wand and nodded firmly. He stretched out his arms from his body in a deliberately slow motion, beckoning to Harry and Colin to grasp him. Harry took hold of his left hand while Colin stared timidly at his right. Upon showing his indecision, Sora grabbed Colin's hand, and looked back to Dumbledore questioningly.

Harry also looked to the Headmaster, though not too many questions were running through his head. It was rather simple what was going to happen next. Sora would be drawn into the Reminiscer - just like Harry had been taken into the Pensive - and he would likely be assaulted by all sorts of memories... painful... jarring... happy... and even terrifying. Harry guessed that the reason he was coming along was to give him strength; Harry could only wonder what type of mental toll would be involved - Sora would likely be summoning every grief he had ever encountered and experiencing it all in one sitting.

Colin, however, didn't seem to draw the same conclusion. "What's going to happen?" he asked with a bit of trepidation.

The Headmaster smiled kindly. "Worry not, Mr. Creevey. However, I should ask your permission before committing you to this. Would you mind being there for Sora while he relieves his past?"

The younger boy's eyes widened with delight. "Sure! That'd be wicked!"

The Headmaster then looked to Sora. "Sora, would you mind sharing your past with Harry and Colin? Their presence might make this as painless as possible."

Sora nodded once. "OK."

Dumbledore nodded and smiled. "Sora," continued Dumbledore, "stare directly into the bowl while I stir it."

He felt Sora's grip on his hand tighten, either with anticipation or concern; Harry was not sure which. Had the situation been reversed, and Harry was about to remember his entire past, he had a feeling that he would be sick. It would be as if Dementors were attacking him; he would probably see his parents murdered. Without a doubt, he would remember his life back at the Dursleys, even worse off than a slave. It was in the master's best interest to keep a slave well-fed, for a well-fed slave could produce more work. This, however, was not a care for his foster family, however. They did not care how well Harry did his work so long as every waking moment of his life was miserable. That was Harry's past, that was his present during the summer, and that would be his future for the next two summers.

He only hoped that Sora's past was not as frightening.

Sora's eyes locked directly at the center of the bowl as Dumbledore began churning the waters with a soft, circular motion. At first, nothing happened - the air held its breathe with anticipation. Gradually, the water began to dance in the direction of the Headmaster's wand, like a band following a baton-wielding leader - a graceful sloshing sound emanating from the blossoming whirlpool that formed in the center. Yet, Harry noticed that, as he stared at the pool of water, it grew larger and three-dimensional. His perspective slowly began to shift from looking directly down upon the water into looking across it. He was no longer staring down at the pool; he was in it, though his clothing and skin remained dry. The effect was so drawn out that he had not even noticed that he was now a part of the water, like a rogue reflection that mirrored nothing in the world above. His first inclination was to panic, but a jarring shake on his hand drove him back to rationality. He looked to his right and saw that Sora was gone; in his place was Colin Creevey, looking at Harry with disbelief... perhaps even fear.

Colin, realizing that he was holding Harry's hand, released it, a bit shocked at the revelation. They were standing in the midst of green water, and Harry felt now that his skin was wet. His robe, unwilling to defy the laws of buoyancy, was now floating up at the surface.

A glance around showed them that, indeed, they were in a different place all together. Dumbledore's office was long gone, replaced by a marvelous pearl white beach, fifty feet behind them.

"What's going on, Harry?" asked Colin, who raised a hand to the top bang of his black-gray hair, squinting into the sun.

Harry began to slosh through the waist deep water, heading toward the shore. The water was very warm; he could barely resist the urge to part with his robe altogether. "I reckon we are in Sora's past... amazing how interactive it seems."

Colin also followed, and did what Harry wanted to do. He removed his robe. Atop his brown pants, he was wearing a light black vest and a collared long-sleeve shirt. He bundled his Hogwarts robe under his arm.

Suddenly, Harry heard a loud splash followed by a sharp intake of air from directly behind him. Both wizards whirled around in surprise. A lone boy of about twelve had surfaced about twenty feet behind them, causing Harry to bit his lip with disbelief. The small, wiry boy pushed aside his platinum white hair and continued to pant.

"Malfoy!" he exclaimed with disbelief, "How in the..."

Right next to the boy, a second brown haired boy shot forth from the surface, shaking his bushy hair from his ocean blue eyes. It was Sora, though he appeared younger, perhaps eleven.

"Ha!" cackled Sora, his eyes wide with amusement and triumph. "Gotcha, Riku!"

Harry felt foolish at once, only now remembering how Malfoy and Riku were supposed to look very much alike. Now that the picture of his archrival was cleared from his mind, he noticed a plethora of differences. He was close enough to see that Riku's eyes were not Malfoy grey, but ocean blue, just like Sora's. It must be a common trait of people who live here, realized Harry. Also, while his hair was wet and clinging to his head, Harry noticed it was much longer and more unkept than Malfoy's. Even still, Riku's angular features and snide expression were a spot on match.

Riku splashed Sora in the face, a scowl crossing his face.

"Even a coin lands on its side once every million flips." Riku protested coldly, his voice even and flat. "I... was fatigued from the run down. You walked nice and slow... with Kairi."

Sora puckered up his lips into a disgruntled frown, while Harry watched. He had figured out from his experiences with past memory that attempting to interact with figures from the past would be a futile effort.

"I won fair and square!" demanded Sora. "Stop making up excuses."

Riku swam away from Sora, moving further out to sea and taxing the limit of Harry's vision against the sparkling, tropical water. "Why don't you try and catch me for a rematch?" he asked in monotone. Sora was only too right, deduced Harry, this boy was incapable of showing emotion.

"You're on!" matched Sora as he swam in a frenzied crawl after Riku. Within moments, they had put well more than enough distance between themselves and Harry, to be little more than dots in the blue ocean.

A small wave crashed into Harry and Colin's legs, breaking white water up a fourth of the beach.

"Should we go after them?" asked Colin, looking to Harry with concern. "They are going out awfully far."

Harry looked back to Colin and shook his head. "It does not matter. We can't interact with the past."

Colin bent over and dipped his hand into the water, moving it around slowly for effect. The surface rippled and moved with his hand, churning as he swished it about. He calmly immersed his arm, up to his elbow, and drew forth a handful of muddy sand. Scrunching it about in his hand, he extended it toward Harry with a questioning look.

"Well, er..." Harry trailed off rather cluelessly. "I don't ... think you should be able to do that."

"Come on then," said Colin, tossing his wet robe to the shore and kicking off his waterlogged trainers. He pulled off his socks and tossed them all to the beach. "Besides, I'm worried... maybe Sora needs us to be there for him."

Harry sighed, his left leg quaking with nervousness. He did not want to tell Colin that he had only been swimming once in his life, and even that was only so successful because he was able to breathe water and kick with webbed hands and flipper-like feet. The Dursley's had installed a pool in their backyard, but Harry was never allowed near it. And, should he panic and start to drown, he was sure that Dudley would play music to it and Uncle Vernon would pull up a pool chair for a good show. In all the times when Dudley was younger and went to swimming lessons, Harry was allowed to do little more than watch.

And the few times that Ron had gone swimming in the lake at Hogwarts during the late term, Harry had just contented himself to watch. Ron knew that Harry could not swim; there wasn't much that Ron did not know about him. He had offered many times to teach Harry, but Harry was never much for swimming in a lake shared by a giant squid that loved getting friendly with those in the water. There had been enough stories of the giant squid taking a boy or girl down underwater for upwards to a minute. That itself had made Harry feel queasy anytime he entered the lake. It was not something he ever wanted to experience, even if he knew how to swim.

The thought of admitting he was afraid of something that Colin... Colin Creevey of all people... was not afraid of, seemed borderline pathetic. Upon seeing Colin's imploring eyes however, begging him for approval, he could not help but speak.

"I... don't know how to swim," admitted Harry morosely.

Colin blinked with total disbelief, as if Harry had told him that he was really Salazar Slytherin in disguise. "You... you don't?" he stammered.

Harry shook his head, his cheeks blazing over scarlet.

"But..." Colin trailed off, his brown eyes widened with what could only be interpreted as horror. "It's so easy..."

"I never needed to learn," Harry covered himself aloofly, playing off his own weakness like a pointless fact. Harry groaned, the aftereffects of admitting weakness to Colin Creevey was truly making him feel sorry for himself.

"It's a lot of fun," argued Colin softly, until suddenly his eyes widened, "hey, I'll teach you how to swim this spring! I'm wicked at it... can hold my breath for two minutes!"

Now it was Harry's turn to stare at Colin with disbelief. The focus of this should be Sora, Harry knew it, but the bushy haired boy had taken an extreme backdrop in his mind. "No way!"

"Way!" nodded Colin enthusiastically, his brown eyes alive with triumph. "Wow..."

Harry could only wonder what was going on in the fourteen-year-old boy's head. Could it be the thought that he was actually better at something than the amazing, fabulous, wonderful Harry Potter? That thought made the saliva on Harry's tongue taste like soot. Was he really supposed to be that godly? Did the world expect him to be the best at everything? Barmy, he thought, I'm the best at nothing! Why does this come as such a shock to people?

"Good for you," replied Harry listlessly, narrowing his eyes and squinting back out to sea, trying to spot the young Sora and young Riku.

"Want to see?" questioned Colin energetically, his voice now getting to the point where grating fingernails against a chalkboard would be a more appealing sound. Just as quickly as he dismissed Colin, however, Harry realized something. The two boys were no longer distant on the horizon... they were gone. Either they had swam out ten miles or, most likely, submerged beneath the water.

In lieu of replying to Colin's inquiry, Harry took a few steps out to sea, his waterlogged trainers ripping up from the sandy holes the tides had formed around his ankles. He removed his glasses and washed them in the waist deep water, clearing them of any dirt they might have accumulated. Slipping them back over his eyes, however, dispelled any doubt that he was just missing them.

They were nowhere to be seen.

"Yes," muttered a dour voice, in monotone from behind them, his even tone so familiar, yet so different. The voice was familiar, though heavily affected by puberty and deepened from a soprano to a tenor. "This is one of my most unpleasant memories. I developed a cramp... and Sora saved my life."

Harry and Colin both froze and turned around slowly. Behind them stood a boy that towered over Harry, nearly a head and a half taller. He was perhaps as tall as Ron, but his arms were wider and he seemed more athletically inclined. Long silvery hair that passed his shoulders whipped in the winds of this artificial beach. His suit was tight to his skin, a colorful shade of yellow, with crossed navy straps across his chest. Harry's eyes strayed from this boy's face to his shoulder, for upon his shoulder was perched a falchion, a curved blade that was nearly as big as Harry. The boy kept it aloft at the hilt in one, gauntleted hand.

The boy considered Harry and Colin - yes... there was no doubt about it. He was looking at them and interacting with them, in the present. His eyes moved from Colin to Harry, locking fierce, ocean blue with emerald green, pitting up a test of wills that Harry was quick to match.

"You... you're Riku, aren't you?" asked Harry, taking a step back, sloshing water as he went.

Riku spun the huge blade effortlessly from his shoulders, bowing his arms to his side. The blade dipped into the water, the wicked point buried in waves.

"Yes," he replied flatly. "And let me guess... you two are Sora's friends of the hour?"

Colin and Harry both backed off again. Harry barely resisted the urge to grab his wand at the sudden movement of the blade.

"I guess..." declared Colin timidly. "What... what's going on?"

Riku took a step closer, his knees sinking below the water's surface. A large wave lifted Harry and Colin and broke over Riku. He did not budge a step under the force of the water. Once it cleared, he was still standing.

"I see that Sora has, once again, abandoned Kairi... if he is here and not at home," commented Riku aloofly, as he drew his blade up from the water and examined it with a pointed nose. "Sora continues to be very self-serving."

"Self-serving?" questioned Harry, pushing Colin behind him instinctively. If something was going to happen, it would happen to him first. The younger boy, his responsibility, would have a chance to escape. "What do you mean?"

"Evil..." continued Riku, with the same calm he might express if he was reading Hogwarts: A History. "Twisted... consumed... and to think I actually called him my best friend."

Harry fell into a long silence, staring into the eyes of this being. What in the name of all that was sane was going on here? This was supposed to bring back Sora's memory... this was supposed to show him his past. Instead, Colin and Riku were talking to a very contemporary Riku, a boy that Harry had only heard about, never talked to.

"I had hoped that Sora would have learned the values of friendship after defeating Ansem and driving the Heartless back to whatever hell of a dimension they spawned from... but apparently he failed in both respects. Ansem, the Seeker of Darkness, must still live... for his Heartless once again pray on worlds no more than months after his downfall."

"We trust Sora!" blurted out Colin, balling up his hands into fists. He simply did not give Harry a chance to digest Riku's words. "Right, Harry?"

But Harry was not so quick to reply. All this time, Sora had indeed seemed 'off'. And, after seeing Professor Snape's demonstration in class, Harry could not help but be very suspicious of the boy. Ron and Seamus were right to spy on him and Sora, to make certain that he was out of harm's way. But if Sora was indeed such a villain, why would he allow Harry and Colin here?

"Right..." affirmed Harry, better late than never. "He doesn't remember anything. It is not his fault!"

"Well," Riku said with the smallest hint of amusement appearing on his face. "Your concern for Sora is as irrelevant as your own desire to help him. I really do not care either way."

"And why not?" questioned Harry stubbornly. "He was your best friend! Why don't you help him... you are obviously very close to him, if you are here with us!"

With that, Riku lifted his blade up and held it at the ready. As if by a nervous twitch, Harry's hand shot into the fold of his robes, producing his wand. He trained it directly on Riku. The boy neither looked at him with amusement nor fear.

"Sora has done nothing to help me... he has failed as a hero, failed as a Keyblade master, and failed as a friend. He is nothing more than a calculating villain now, a pawn to the Heartless. And, the way I see it, it is only a matter of time before he gets you two consumed by the Inner Darkness." Riku swung his sword behind him, into an aggressive position. "I might as well stop you two before you embrace the Darkness, just as he did... and become two-bit villains with no sense of dignity."

Harry opened his mouth to object, however, the words came out as little more than a staggered wheeze upon seeing Riku's reaction. Without further word, the silver-haired boy shot forth from the water, reaching an impossible height. He slowly descended, his sword held over his head, preparing to land a killing blow on Harry.