Harry Potter & The Knights Of Merlin's Keep

Fan fiction: Harry Potter

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. I own the original characters. Any similarities to persons living or dead are coincidental.

Rated R: For violence, some language, mature content, and eventual slash. Though I haven't decided how much, you have been warned.

AN: This is a revised version of the story. It is not complete and though I am working on completing it, I have many other things of higher priority (like school) that I must do first. Please read & review.

---

There was a tension at the Dursley house that night. Vernon had demanded absolutely no small talk. No discussion of any kind. Even Dudley was forbidden to complain about the television set. It became so unbearable that they all decided to go to bed early.

As they each changed into their nightclothes, none of them noticed the odd burning smell coming from the cupboard under the stairs. As they each crawled into their beds, none of them noticed the thick black smoke escaping from the crack under the door to the cupboard. As they each fell asleep, none of them noticed the furious red flames that quickly engulfed their home.

As they each died silently at the flames burning touch, none of them noticed the strange artifact under the stairs as it's crystal went from blood red to water clear.

---

Harry felt considerably better once the potion had worn off, but he was still a little weak from malnutrition. To help remedy this, he had a delicious bowl of creamed chicken soup. It was nice and thick, and quite tasty. Mrs. Weasley had easily conjured it up and added in a nutrition potion that Dumbledore had brewed. Harry felt considerably better after that.

He was able to walk upstairs mostly under his own power, for which he was internally grateful. He had felt quite embarrassed about the whole situation as it was and was still a little red faced from when the whole Weasley family had burst in after he had first woke up. He didn't ask about how he got cleaned up and changed into pajamas. He wasn't sure if he could live that down, so it was better not knowing.

He sat up a bit with Ron before bedtime. Ron seemed a bit apprehensive, as if speaking normally to Harry would somehow break him. Harry finally got tired of Ron walking around eggshells and threw a pillow at him.

"Hey!" Ron exclaimed, a smile breaking on his face, "What was that for?"

"That was because you're acting like I'm going to break if you talk to me normally. It's me, Harry. Remember?"

Ron was tempted to throw the pillow back at him, but even though Harry said he was fine, Ron could see differently. But he did have a point. Harry wouldn't fall apart if he just talked to him.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Ron's smile faded as the weight of the evening returned upon his shoulders, "It's just I'm not having the best of days. Bill and I are kind of having an argument right now."

Harry was about to comment on bad days, but when Ron mentioned the argument, he saw that Ron's expression was extremely pained. And taking into consideration the conversation that he had overheard between Dumbledore and Bill, Harry thought it best to hear Ron out.

"What's wrong?"

"Well..." Ron wasn't sure if wanted to tell Harry everything he'd been feeling. Harry had just been through a major ordeal and this was just after he'd mostly recovered from the shock of Cedric's death.

"Look, Ron," Harry managed to sound astonishingly like Hermione in that one moment, "I'm your friend. You can tell me."

Ron sighed heavily.

"It's just that... Well, I'm jealous of you." He said dropping his head down, not being able to look at Harry. He continued before Harry could interrupt, "I really do understand that you don't ask for or want all the attention you get, but I still wish it was me sometimes. I'm jealous of all my brothers. They have all distinguished themselves.

"Charlie was the Quidditch player. Bill was Head Boy and is highly sought after by women everywhere. Percy was also Head Boy and could very well be the youngest director to ever serve for the Ministry. Even Fred and George are probably going to open up their joke shop despite what Mum says and I'll bet they'll be serious competition for Zonko's. I can't compete with all of that. I'll always be known as their little brother or your sidekick."

"Now Bill is coming back to Hogwarts as our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I'm going to have to compete with him once again. What's worse is that Malfoy will probably have a whole slew of insults to throw at me." Ron seemed to be babbling now, but Harry let him go on, knowing that it could help.

"When I said that tonight at dinner, Bill got upset. He said that I didn't think too much of him or the rest of the family. That I thought Malfoy was right, that because we're poor we're not a proper family."

Ron was trying very hard not to cry and doing a pretty good job of it, but Harry wasn't fooled for one second.

"All I want is not get something second hand for once. I mean my wand is new, but I had Charlie's first. I just want to be able to walk into a room and have people say, 'Hey, there's Ron Weasley' rather than 'Hey, there's so and so's little brother' or 'Look, it's Harry potter's sidekick.'

"I just want to be special for once."

Harry was absolutely quiet. He wanted to reach out and grab Ron, hug him and tell him he was special, but he didn't know how Ron would react. Ron didn't know that Harry had developed a crush on him. Harry himself was still in shock about the revelation. The only problem was that he knew Ron didn't feel the same way. He knew that Ron had a serious crush on Hermione and more than likely she had one on Ron.

Harry settled for the most diplomatic answer he could. He put his hand on Ron's shoulder gently. "You will be."

Ron just nodded, wiping the hidden tears from his face, and then he crawled into bed. Harry curled up in his bed, but didn't fall asleep right away. He lay there quietly as Ron drifted off to sleep. He thought of all the things he and Ron had done together, along with some of the things he wanted to do together. But he knew that it would never happen. Ron was to stuck on Hermione, and even if he wasn't, Harry didn't think Ron liked boys.

And that's what perplexed Harry. Why did he have a crush on Ron? He liked Cho, didn't he? Yes, he definitely liked Cho. That wasn't a dream, though after Cedric's death, it felt like it. But why did he suddenly find Ron so appealing?

Harry suddenly realized that he had always felt like that about Ron. That was why he was so hurt when he thought Ron didn't believe him about not putting his name in the goblet of Fire last year. And it must've been the reason why he was chosen as Harry's hostage to rescue. "We've taken what you prize most."

Harry sighed lightly. He wondered when he was going to have a good day again.

---

Late in the evening, when Dumbledore returned from The Burrow, he went straight to his office. The first thing he did was toss his hat onto a coat rack. It landed perfectly on one of the hooks.

He then waved his hand in the general direction of one of the wall panels. It slowly turned around to reveal a table with various bottles of spirits, and some glasses. Some of the portraits of the old headmasters (the ones who were awake that is) looked at Dumbledore disapprovingly.

"Oh blow it out your socket, Dippet, you old crank." He said to one of the portraits who huffed to himself then went back to sleep. Dumbledore poured himself a stiff drink. He didn't gulp it down, but he sipped it slowly. Unlike most people who occasionally had a drink to relax, he knew that it was best to let the alcohol in slowly. Otherwise it just made one drunk quicker, and Dumbledore did not get drunk.

"Well there was that one time after Grindelwald, but damned if I didn't deserve it." He muttered to himself remembering the extremely tough duel with the dark wizard. A duel that he barely made it out alive.

As Albus sat down, he felt the room's aura waver. That meant that someone was coming. By the feel of the aura, it was a house elf, Dobby, to be specific.

"Good evening, Dobby." The old headmaster said to the house elf.

"Good evening, sir." Dobby said, no longer surprised that the professor always knew it was him. "Dobby has saved Professor some food in case he was hungry."

"Ah thank you Dobby. That was very thoughtful of you. I am still a little stuffed though; I had eaten at The Burrow. Molly Weasley is quite a cook."

"She is a wonderful mother, sir! She made Dobby's favorite sweater. Harry Potter's Wheezy gave it to him."

"Yes, I should have recognized that."

"Is Master Dumbledore okay, sir?" Dobby asked with trepidation. Albus Dumbledore was the only master that was ever kind to Dobby, but years of abuse by the Malfoys made it difficult for him to ask questions of his master, even when it was about his master's well being.

"I wish that I could say yes, Dobby. I truly do." Albus said wistfully, "But alas, I am not. Not for the time being. But rest assured that I will be quite fine soon enough. Thank you for asking."

"Is there anything Dobby can do for Master Dumbledore?"

Albus paused for one moment, "Yes, there is. Can you please bring the new gentleman, Aaron Devlin up here? Remember that he cannot hear you so you will need to look him directly in the eyes when you speak to him."

"Dobby will bring him right away, sir!" The house elf squeaked, then ran off into the numerous hidden tunnels that the house elves used.

Ten minutes later, Dumbledore felt the aura waver again, only this time it was more dramatic. He recognized Dobby's presence along with another. He set himself to remember that particular waver for the future. That way he would always know when Aaron Devlin came to his office.

A knock at the door officially announced Aaron's arrival. Dumbledore waved his hand and the door opened. He would have normally gotten up to answer it, but he was tired and old. Dobby bowed quickly then disappeared back down the spiral staircase as Aaron entered the office cautiously.

"I will not bite, Mr. Devlin. Please have a seat." He motioned to one of the chairs sitting across the desk from him.

"Thank you, sir." Aaron said respectfully as he sat, "You wished to see me?"

"Yes, I wanted to know how your first meeting with young Mr. Vermont went."

"Quite well, I think, sir." Aaron seemed to relax a bit, "He his very excited about learning magic. Far more than I remember ever being."

"And you told him about your past? About what happened with Voldemort's Death Eaters?"

"Not exactly," Aaron shifted uncomfortably as the memories returned to him. "I told his parents everything. I felt it would be best if they explained it to him. They know him and how well he'll be able to handle it. They agreed to tell him before September first, but my guess is that it will be before our trip to Diagon Alley next week."

"You will be going with them to Diagon Alley?" Albus said as he rose to get another drink. "Oh, would you care for a nightcap?"

Aaron had a look of shock on his face and couldn't seem to answer. Albus only laughed.

"I AM human, Mr. Devlin. I believe I told you that this morning. I don't drink often at all, but there are times when this old body needs a kick in the pants." He poured Aaron a glass of the Cognac.

"S-still," Aaron managed to finally mutter, "It's quite an odd sight to see. You're the last person I'd..."

"So who has misjudged who, Mr. Devlin?" Albus interrupted a bit forcefully, the tone of their previous conversation still fresh in his mind. Not that Aaron could hear it, but it was the principle of the matter. However, it was more forceful than he intended. He decided that he didn't need the second drink.

Aaron, however, was still taken aback by the words he saw. "I guess we're both human," he said quietly as he sipped his cognac.

Albus meandered back to his chair, sans drink, and sat down. "That we are, Mr. Devlin."

They sat quietly for a brief moment when Aaron realized that he hadn't answered the professor's question.

"And yes, I am going to Diagon Alley with him. I thought that he and his parents might like someone who had at least some experience with it to show them around, and I think Kim and I are starting to bond well. He needs someone he can communicate with that aren't his parents. He has too few friends in the Muggle world as it is."

"I can only hope that he will find some friends here," Dumbledore said tiredly, "Tell me, what house do you think he will be sorted into?"

"Hard to say, sir. I was only here one year. But if I were to guess, I'd say Hufflepuff or Gryffindor."

"An unusual choice, considering their differences."

"Quite, but he works hard and he's eager to face the new challenges of being a wizard," Aaron explained his assessment, "He'll have twice the difficulty to learn half the material, but he's not phased. He's also rather unafraid, though he can become quite shy at times. Granted, I only talked with him for the afternoon. For all I know he could be put in Slytherin. I shudder at that thought."

"Yes, a Muggle-born in Slytherin is one thing, but a deaf one... However, it is not up to us, but the Sorting Hat."

"You can't just tell it to put him in Hufflepuff?"

"No, Mr. Devlin, I cannot. The hat is as old as Hogwarts. However, it is knowledgeable enough to take the situation into consideration. I doubt Mr. Vermont will be placed in Slytherin."

Aaron only nodded, not entirely believing the old professor. The professor decided to change the subject slightly.

"I had originally planned to hire you because you were the only wizard I knew that knew sign language." Dumbledore said frankly, "And to tell the truth, I thought by translating for Mr. Vermont, you might become interested in learning magic again. But it appears you have already learned a few things that we normally do not teach here."

Aaron ducked his head away. Partly because of embarrassment, but also in part because he had managed to pull a fast one on Dumbledore. When his face had lost some of it's red tone, he returned his eyes to Dumbledore's.

"I, uh, yeah, about that," Aaron said sheepishly, "For the first few years, I really did have nothing to do with magic. At least not intentionally. There were a few 'accidents' that eventually got me brought before the States' version of the Department for the Improper Use of Magic. They said that unless I wanted to face incarceration, I'd have to either attend a school or hire a private tutor. Either way, I had to pass a test by a specific time or face consequences. As it was, they had fined my uncle rather stiffly.

"So faced with either school or prison, I chose school. Rather a private tutor. He was an odd one to say the least, but he knew his stuff. As you are probably aware, the American wizards associate more with Muggles, and as it turned out, some of his Muggle friends were deaf and he had learned sign language."

"So you are a fully trained wizard, then?" Dumbledore asked, very amused by the turn of events.

"Not remotely." Aaron answered quickly, "His job was mostly to teach me how to control my magic rather than how to use it. He did teach me quite a few spells but I know absolutely nothing about Transfiguration. I have learned a few things in potion making, but most of that was combined with Muggle chemistry. All in all nothing that would warrant a diploma. And It was very hard since I had no wand." Aaron paused as they both remembered why he had no wand, "I refused to get another one."

"What about that spell you used earlier?" Albus asked, hoping that they would not find themselves in another argument.

Aaron smiled devilishly, "Promise not to turn me in?"

Albus raised his eyebrow, very intrigued, and nodded.

"Well," Aaron began explaining, "As I said, my instructor, Mr. Garrett, had friends who were deaf. Well... They kind of knew he was a wizard. You see, he had been secretly performing experimental charms on them and himself. To see if he could sort of fake the brain into thinking it could hear.

"It was all voluntary of course, and his friends kept it quiet as well. I mean, if they just suddenly started hearing for no apparent reason... Well I'm sure you can figure out the repercussions of that.

"He eventually let me in on the secret and taught me how to cast it on myself. It takes a great deal of effort, and is quite exhausting on the subject's part. When it is self cast, I can control how long it stays in effect. Today was the longest I've ever been able to keep it up. I don't think I'll be casting it again anytime soon. My head is still throbbing."

Albus was glowing with delight, "I really have underestimated you, Mr. Devlin. You have accomplished in a few years what many wizards fail to do in decades."

"I don't understand," Aaron said.

"Wandless magic is quite difficult to do with any accuracy. Usually it happens when someone is considerably upset, and then it's very haphazard and uncontrolled. More of stimulus response than of will. There are those, however, like myself, who have nearly mastered the art, but it has taken us decades to do so."

Aaron was taken aback by this revelation, but was complimented by it nonetheless. "Well I wasn't trying to go for any new records, Professor, I assure you. I just didn't have much of a choice. As it is, I can mostly only cast simple spells and you are right, it's with not very good accuracy unless the spell is targeted at me directly."

"But it is the fact that you can do it at all by concentrated will rather than a knee-jerk reaction that makes it special, Mr. Devlin. I just hope you will not try and teach it to Young Mr. Vermont. He is still quite young and inexperienced." Albus leaned forward a bit and gazed into Aaron, not too hard, but enough to make him slightly uncomfortable, "Which reminds me, Mr. Devlin, are there any other abilities that you have been keeping from me? Arthur Weasley mentioned something about you teaching the boy wordless spell casting. Something we tried during your enrollment if I remember correctly."

Aaron returned the gaze with considerably less success, but it was just enough to get Dumbledore to release his.

"Part of the problem with not being able to hear is the shared lack of ability to annunciate properly. I went to a speech therapist that specialized in deaf students. As you might have noticed since twenty years ago, my speech is considerably clearer, if a bit over pronounced.

"But that wasn't until after I had completed my 'restraint education' as it were. As such, charms still remained my most difficult study. One of the things Mr. Garrett taught me was how to... sense the spell is the best word I can think of for it. Not only do I have to know exactly what I want to do, I also have to know how the words affect it. Once I recognized the effect of the words of a particular charm, I was able to emulate it in my mind. It was and is extremely difficult, and until my speech therapy, it was and pretty much still is the main reason why I only know very few spells and charms.

Dumbledore leaned back and sized up his prodigal student. "And you are planning to teach Mr. Vermont this skill?"

"Yes, sir." Aaron answered confidently, "It's the only way he will be able to compete on the same level as the other students, at least as Charms go. As you well know, over fifty percent of all magic involves Charm work in some capacity or other."

Dumbledore peered deeper into Aaron, and for once, Aaron didn't back down.

"I can see your thoughts, Professor. I just want him to be able to defend himself if the need arises. I'm not looking to create another Merlin. Face facts, students do use magic in the corridors. They do curse each other from time to time. They're children, it's what all children do. The only difference is your students use their wands rather than their fists."

"For the most part, you are right." Albus said after a brief moment of silence, "Very well, I will allow it. Not that you would have listened to me to begin with, and do not give me that insulted look, Mr. Devlin, you and I both know how stubborn you can be."

"I've gotten better," Aaron objected lightly, knowing full well that his obstinance was tempered only by prudence and nothing more. Albus just smiled.

"Right, no bullshit. Point taken, sir." Aaron surrendered as he finished his drink, "If there is nothing more, I must excuse myself. I am quite tired. I've been traveling all over the continent today. Not something I'm used to."

"That is quite understandable, Mr. Devlin," Dumbledore stood and walked Aaron out of his office, "I myself will be retiring shortly. Have a good night."

---

Kim Vermont had seen quite a few people today. Mr. Weasley had come by and brought someone named Aaron Devlin with him. Kim liked Aaron. He was a deaf wizard, too. Aaron would be helping would be helping Kim learn how to do magic without having to speak. Aaron had said that it would be extremely difficult and that his grades might not be so good at first, but that wouldn't last for too long.

Now that Mr. Weasley and Mr. Devlin had gone, his father had some other surprise guests come over. Kim never knew their names, but he knew what they were. They were a secret group of people who were trying to find a place called Merlin's Keep. Kim's father and mother were members, and Kim would be too.

His father, James, let them in and explained to them what Kim was. They were astonished to say the least, but all of them were happy for Kim. He was given the test that very night. He passed. Kim was now officially a Knight of Merlin's Keep. He would help his fellows out in their task.

Normally this meant secret training outside of his normal schooling, but as Kim was now going to be a wizard, they decided that that would be better for them. All of their members had physical training, but only a rare few could actually manipulate magic. Even then it was minor things at best. Kim would be what they called 'their ace in the hole'. He liked that idea.

Before anyone realized it, it was way past his bedtime, so Kim went up to bed and slept, while his parents and the other knights discussed their latest plans to find and recover the Key to Merlin's Keep.

---

Simon felt considerably better the next morning. His head felt clearer now that he had released some of the pent up emotion he was carrying. He wouldn't deny that he was still a little upset with everything happening the way it was, but now it at least seemed like a challenge he could take on. And Simon loved challenges.

He decided that he would go to Hogwarts. His mum was right, University would always be there, and if he took a few years off, if and when he returned he would be closer to the average student's age. And going to Hogwarts he would be with kids his own age. Maybe not in the same class, but they would at least be there.

He also decided that he was going to try and make up for lost time. He was fifteen years old and starting as a first year. Simon didn't like that at all. He would have to somehow make up for that. Maybe he could convince the teachers to let him learn at an accelerated pace.

Simon paused in his thoughts while still lying in bed. What if he wasn't very good at magic? There had to be a lot more to it than just studying and memorization. Certainly more than just theory. Simon learned this the hard way with Football. He knew the rules, knew the tactics and strategy, but he lacked the physical prowess to excel in the sport. Not that it stopped him from trying, but he rarely had any actual game time.

But still, if there were a way he could advance himself at least closer to his proper year, then he would try. And no time like the present. After a shower and breakfast, he would begin reading through his grandfather's magic books. He figured that if he memorized as much as he could, when the time came where he was taught the theory of magic, he would be able to practice a wider variety of spells than his fellow first years. Not that he wanted to be better than them, he just wanted to try and catch up with his year.

His decision made, he sped off to the shower. When he was done, he went down to breakfast. As he passed the front room window, he noticed that there were fire trucks all around the street. He went outside to see what was going on.

Simon was shocked to see that one of the houses was now nothing more than a smoldering ruin. It happened to be the house of those odd Dursleys. He watched in minor terror at the scene in front of him.

Some of the firemen were carrying black bags between them. The looked heavy and vaguely human shaped. Simon paled severely as he realized that the Dursleys didn't make it out alive. He bowed his head and prayed for them. They were an odd family, yes, even downright snobbish at times, but even they didn't deserve this.

But in the back of his head, he wondered if the dark haired boy he'd seen a few weeks earlier had made it out alive. Shaking his head clear, Simon went back into his grandfather's house.

His parents were at the breakfast table discussing the fire in subdued tones when he walked in the kitchen. He looked at them with a forlorn face.

"I just saw them remove the Dursley's from their house." he said meekly, "They didn't make it."

His mother gasped as she put he hand upon her mouth. His father sighed heavily.

"How are you doing, son?" He asked.

"I'm okay. I feel sad for them but at least they're in a better place."

"Yes they are. Why don't you sit down and we'll offer up a prayer for them."

Simon sat at the table, the odors of the eggs and bacon hitting his nostrils, reminding him that he was very hungry. He and his family sat in silent prayer for a few moments. When they were finished, they served themselves up.

"I've decided that I want to go to Hogwarts." Simon said after eating a few bites of scrambled eggs. "Mum's right, I can go to university anytime. If I go to Hogwarts, I'll be with students my own age. And I'm sure it will be a very difficult challenge."

"I'm happy to hear that, son." His father said warmly, "Go ahead and write your response. I know someone who will send it for us. Then next week, we can go to Diagon Alley and pick up your school supplies."

"Diagon Alley?"

"It's a wizard's alcove hidden in London somewhere," his mother answered, "We've never been there, of course, but your grandfather told us about it. He said that if you did ever get your acceptance letter, that we would have to take you there to get your things. He left us instructions on how to find it."

"There's supposed to be all sorts of wizard shops there." His father explained with some excitement, "Some of the things he described were absolutely fantastic but to him, they were every day things. Of course, to him, Television was absolutely incredible and VCRs were on the verge of demonism. Not that that ever stopped him from going to the video rental."

Simon had to smile, "He thought VCRs were demonic?"

"Almost." his mother corrected, "Once we explained the basic concept of it to him, he eased up his thinking a bit, but I wouldn't be surprised if he had said an extra prayer every time he played a tape, just in case."

"I wonder what Diagon Alley will be like." Simon said to no one in particular.

"Well you will find out soon enough." His father said.

"I'm going to go through grandfathers books. I want to learn as much as I can before I have to go. I don't know how good of a wizard I'll make, but it certainly won't be for lack of knowledge."

"That's a good idea, dear," his mother said mildly reproachfully, "But mind you I don't want you hiding up all week in that attic and basement. I want you to take the books outside. You need more sun. Why you're beginning to look like a little vampire."

"Yes, mum" Simon said, rolling his eyes with a small smile.

After breakfast, Simon looked through every box, shelf and desk that his grandfather had in the basement and small attic. It was quite organized though Simon wasn't exactly sure HOW it was organized. He noticed that all of the books were in the attic, probably cause it was barely large enough for even Simon to move around in. Most everything else was in the basement; Scales, different types of cauldrons, vials, phials, and jars of odd ingredients.

Some of the jars were labeled but empty, but then Simon noticed the expiration date that was written on the label. He mused that his grandfather must have made sure that anything that would perish was disposed of. But there were still quite a few jars that had no expiration date. Most of these were dried herbs and... Other things.

He set down the jar labeled "Powdered Cockroach" rather quickly.

He sat down at his grandfather's desk. He wondered why his grandfather had two, for there was a similar one on the main floor. Then he remembered that his grandfather liked to socialize and that this must've been where he kept anything that was magical related. Better to keep it out from prying eyes.

He opened the drawers and cabinets on the desk. There were some scrolls and pieces of parchment scattered about. He saw an ink jar and several fine looking quills sitting just off to the side. In one of the drawers, he found an odd sight. Well, odd for his grandfather. It was a ledger, but this one was modern, for the binding could be opened to remove and replace the ledger sheets. It was filled with his grandfather's writing, and appeared to be some sort of inventory.

A small envelope fell from the pages. Simon looked at the envelope pensively. It had his name written on it and it was in his grandfather's handwriting. He picked it up apprehensively, wondering what life-altering events were going to come about because of this letter. He opened it carefully as if it might explode. The letter was not as destiny binding as he thought.

Dear Simon,

By now, you've decided to go through the things that I have bequeathed to you. If my last will and testament has not yet been read, then rest assured these books and other things have been left to you. The house is also yours, but it will be under your parents charge until you are twenty-one years of age.

I have taken a complete inventory of all the magical items in my possession. As they are now yours, you may do with them what you wish; however I must give you some words of caution.

First, underage wizards are not allowed to perform magic unless at a qualified school, such as Hogwarts, or unless you are under the tutelage of a qualified and licensed tutor. To do so could risk expulsion from school and barring from enlisting private tutors. Now I doubt they would "throw the book at you" to use an American Muggle term, but the Ministry of Magic is made up of a bunch of stoic, doddering old fools who are the very epitome of the word curmudgeon (Not unlike myself on some days). Best to stay on their good side.

Simon let out a small giggle. The few times that he had met his grandfather had always been fun. Claudius well admitted that he was "a grumpy old man" but he always made Simon laugh when he could.

Second, the law notwithstanding, many of the spells and potions collected in these tomes can be quite dangerous. This is not to say that they are illegal, quite the contrary. I have never delved into the dark arts and would hope and pray to God that you would never as well. But legal doesn't necessarily mean safe. At least not as young as you are. I know you are one of the most brilliant people I've ever had the pleasure of knowing (and that's saying quite a lot) but your inexperience could be quite a detriment. I recommend that you do not try and experiment with the more advanced magics until you've securely grasped the basics.

The inventory ledger in which this letter has been placed, lists all my supplies, as well as a copy of the table of contents from each spell book. The books are organized by level of complexity, the first being the easiest. Some of the equipment may be to old or just not appropriate to use at Hogwarts. For those that are unusable, you will need to purchase replacements at Diagon Alley. By now I hope that your foster parents have explained to you what Diagon Alley is, if not, ask them.

Your list of required supplies will have the details of what you will need. Simply place the list inside the ledger for several minutes. When you reopen the ledger, your list will have been modified with what you will need from Diagon Alley, and what you have here will be highlighted in the ledger so you can collect them easier.

The ledger should not leave the house, much less the basement. It is enchanted and bound to the house. Removing the ledger will break the enchantment, and though I'm sure that you will eventually be able to recast it, it is a very advanced magic. Using the ledger is not a violation of the underage wizard law because I was the one who cast it and it functions automatically, rather than by your will.

I hope that these small gifts will help you in your learning to become a wizard. I have no doubt that the magic inside you will burst forth and allow you to do great and wonderful things.

To you, my dear grandson, all my love and prayers, Claudius.

P.S. There is a gold key in the top left drawer of the desk. That key will unlock a vault at Gringotts bank in Diagon Alley. There's not much wizard money there, but it is now yours. Allow your grandfather one last nag. Spend it wisely.

Simon smiled with glee. His grandfather's will had not yet been read, but now he knew that all of these things were now his. Plus there was some wizard money in a bank that was all his. He couldn't wait until he went to Diagon Alley. It was going to be fun.

---

Albus read the latest message from Arabella Figg, explaining that the Dursley's were now dead. He sagged back into his chair feeling very faint and cold. Though he was considerably angry with the Dursley's, he never would have wished such a fate upon them.

The other professors at the breakfast table noticed that their Headmaster had gone extremely pale and quiet. Professor McGonagall handed him a glass of orange juice which he mindlessly accepted and drank and instantly felt better.

"Albus, what is it?" she asked.

"Grave news, Minerva. The Dursleys lost their lives in a house fire."

"No!"

"I am afraid so. This can not be a coincidence. Excuse me, everyone, but I have some errands that demand my immediate attention." Professor Dumbledore said as he rose and left the Great Hall.

---

The week had gone by quicker than Harry could believe. Harry was glad of that because at the beginning, Ron and Bill were still at odds with each other. Not so much as having words but there was a general uneasiness when they were both around. Bill was called up to Hogwarts the next evening, but there was still some considerable leftover tension. Harry noticed the occasional looks towards Ron whenever Bill's name was mentioned.

Fred and George spent all week hiding in their room, no doubt concocting some more jokes for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Their mum had apparently given up trying to prevent them from opening their joke shop, especially since they seemed to be able to provide their own money for supplies. She gave them a serious glare when they had gone shopping with her only to come home with more parcels than she did.

The question of shoplifting inevitably came up, but Fred and George were eventually able to convince her that they bought them legally and that the money was also legitimate, not stolen or otherwise illegally obtained. That took a bit of work without giving away Harry, but they managed to do it.

Harry was glad, because he knew that Mrs. Weasley would blame Fred and George for talking advantage of Harry when it was in fact Harry who forced the money on them. Ron would have been distant to Harry for a while, too. Probably thinking that Harry was just trying to show off how much money he had. Either prospect was an unsettling prospect for Harry.

Once Harry was awake and walking around from his ordeal, Ginny started talking again. A little at first, then more like her old self. But she still gave Harry a sorrowful look every time she saw him. It never lasted long, but it was still there.

Percy, when he was home, was even more the pompous bureaucrat, due to the upcoming appointment of the new head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. He was seriously pining for the job and so was working double time and weekends to try and make himself look better. Harry just avoided him when he could.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley acted perfectly normal, at least, as normal as they always acted. Mrs. Weasley did pine over Harry a bit more than usual but that was because Harry was still on the soup diet. But soon he would be moved up to more solids, she said. Mr. Weasley was truly himself around Harry, but on the occasions where Harry's Uncle and Aunt were mentioned, he had managed to easily turn the conversation to things like Muggle plugs and electricity, much to Harry's relief.

Sirius Black had written to Harry, saying he was sorry he couldn't have been there to protect or help Harry, and was even more remorseful that he couldn't be there for Harry now, but he was on a vital mission for Dumbledore. Harry was sure that he was with Lupin or someone else that would have slapped Sirius down from doing anything rash. Otherwise, Sirius would have been at Harry's side. As much as he missed Sirius, Harry didn't want him to be captured and handed to the dementors.

Hermione had written Ron, complaining that neither he nor Harry had written to her in a while. They each wrote her a letter and gave them to Hedwig to carry. Pigwidgeon was out on a trip for Fred and George and hadn't gotten back yet. Harry didn't know what Ron put in his letter, because Ron was rather secretive about it. Harry suspected it might have been some sort of love letter, and that Hermione would probably write them each a separate note in response.

Harry had given a brief synopsis of what happened, making no mention of the man and the strange artifact. He only hoped she wouldn't go into her super fussy mode that she was prone to do on such occasions. Thankfully, when he read her response, she hadn't. She was upset by it but seemed rather cool headed about the whole thing. In the end, they had all decided to meet at the Leaky Cauldron the morning of their trip to Diagon Alley.

Now he and Ron were in Diagon Alley, waiting for their friend. Ron had seemed even more eager to meet with Hermione after her letter back to him. Harry could see the hope and nervousness in his eyes and knew that they had finally admitted their feelings to each other. Harry was saddened by this news, but at the same time, he was happy. Ron and Hermione were good for each other. But it did give Harry a lot to think about.

Finally, Harry decided that he would tell Ron everything, to get it all out and into the open. He didn't even think for one second that Ron would feel the same way about him than he did for Hermione. Fantasized, maybe, but he knew that Ron was not only straight as an arrow, but totally in love with Hermione.

They had some time to talk before Hermione would arrive. The rest of the family had gone on their way to do their shopping.

"Hey Ron," Harry said nervously as they sat sipping butterbeers. "I was wondering if you and I could have a little chat. It's pretty important."

"Sure Harry," Ron replied with his usual passiveness.

Harry sighed. He had thought up of so many ways to bring this up and couldn't decide on just one. Finally after getting some impatient looks from Ron, he started.

"You like Hermione, don't you?"

Ron's ears went pink, "Of course I like her. We're friends remember?"

"I mean you like her more than just a friend."

Ron's face now turned red and he stammered, not really able to answer that.

"It's okay, I'm not going to make fun of you. In fact, I think it's great. I was beginning to wonder what it would take for you to finally admit it to yourself. I imagine you told her in your letter?"

"Um... yeah," Ron's face went redder than it ever had before, "She feels the same way about me. We're going to try and be boyfriend and girlfriend. You really don't mind? I mean, you like Cho, right?"

It was Harry's turn to turn red, though not for the exact reason that Ron thought.

"Yeah," Harry said with trepidation, "But there's someone that I've come to realize I like a whole lot better."

"Oh? Who?" Ron was genuinely curious, but he tried not to show it, fearing being labeled as a gossiping girl.

"That's kind of hard to explain." Harry faltered. "Maybe if I used a metaphor it might be easier."

Ron raised his eyebrow but shrugged, "Okay, but I have to say, you are being weird."

"Okay, remember the second event in the Tri-Wizard tournament?"

"How could I forget? I may have been asleep but even with Dumbledore's spell there's a lot that might have gone wrong."

"Well, remember how they took someone important from each of the champions? Fleur's hostage was her sister, but Viktor's was Hermione." Ron scowled lightly at the mention of his competition. "And they took Cho for Cedric to rescue."

"Yeah, and I was yours. Harry, they probably chose me for yours because Cho was already taken and so was Hermione. Besides, you've known me for the longest, thought admittedly not by much."

"Well," Harry was fighting to continue. Fear of Ron's reaction was starting to weigh upon him like the Earth that Atlas bore. "What if it didn't work like that? I mean, Fleur is probably very protective of her younger sister, so I can see that, but what about Cho or Hermione. You saw how Cho reacted to Cedric's death. I think they had been going out much longer than that year. And you heard how smitten Krum was with Hermione."

"I don't follow you." Ron said honestly.

"What if they took something that you not only valued most, but loved the most." Harry said, barely able to keep his eyes connected with Ron's.

Ron pondered this, and slowly realization came to him. His face paled slightly, and he looked at a loss for words.

"Please don't be angry with me." Harry said quickly, "I only recently figured this out myself."

"I'm not angry, just surprised." Ron managed to whisper, "I don't want to hurt your feelings, Harry, but I don't feel the same way."

"I know, Ron," Harry said quickly, "And my feelings aren't hurt. I just thought, that before you and Hermione got together, that I should at least let you know. I figured better now then when you two are dating and cause a big ruckus."

Ron's color became less paled but he was still a little upset. "Have you told her yet?"

Harry shook his head, "No, I thought that you should be the first to know. I really don't want this to break up our friendship, Ron. I'm deadly serious about that."

"Relax, I'm not upset," Ron replied, "well I am, but not in a bad way, I mean... Oh hell, I'm just a little off centered."

They both remained silent for a few minutes; long enough for their empty mugs to be replaced by freshly filled ones. Ron was the first to break the silence.

"It's up to you, Harry, but I think you should tell Hermione, too."

Harry nodded, "I want to, but I wanted to make sure that you were okay with it first."

"I won't lie, it's a little unnerving."

"But I know your straight and even more, you love Hermione. I'm not going to let this get between all of us."

"It doesn't upset you that I love her?" Ron asked nervously.

"A little, but I don't take it personally. I know that you like me as a friend."

"I doubt that will ever change. We may have some arguments, but I still like being your friend."

"Me, too." Harry smiled, grateful to have this finally off his chest. He had little doubt that Hermione would have a problem with it. She was logical and very open minded.

"So, does this mean you're gay? I mean, I don't have a problem with that either." Ron added hastily.

"I think I'm Bi. I really did like Cho. I still do but I don't think it would work out. It's quite plain to me that she really loved Cedric. Since I saw him die, it might be too weird for her. Too weird for me, now that I think about it."

Ron just nodded softly, "Well that's okay. I'm still your friend. You're not planning on telling anyone else besides Me and Hermione, though, are you?"

"No. I'm not sure how most wizards think of homosexuality, but there are a lot of Muggles that don't like it at all. Vernon is one of them."

"That's good then," Ron replied grimly, "A good portion of Wizards regard it even worse than being of mixed blood or Muggle-born. It'd be best if you kept it quiet."

Harry could only nod. He wasn't happy with that news, but it really changed nothing. It just meant that he would have to stick with Girls for the time being.

A few minutes later, Hermione showed up. Ron was out of his chair in an instant and had pulled out a chair for her. She beamed radiantly and Harry had a tough time keeping himself from laughing. When he had better control of his emotions, he re-explained to her everything that he had told Ron. She took it as much as Harry had expected. Didn't have a problem with it in the slightest, cautioned him against blurting it out at school, and then mock threatened him to stay away from her man. Harry had never seen Ron so red-faced or elated as he had in that one moment.

The three friends continued their banter and talk for a few more minutes before venturing out into the crowded street. Their day at Diagon Alley had only just begun.