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.

Speaking of reviews, many thanks to those of you who have reviewed so far. I do read all of them but I prefer not to respond in the story as it misrepresents how many real words are in the story. If you review and would like a response, tell me so and leave me your e-mail address. If you prefer to e-mail me directly, that's fine but be warned, though I check it often, there's still the chance it might get lost in the spam filter. My e-mail addy is [email protected]

---

Harry woke with a start. His breath was fast and he was sweating heavily, as if he had a nightmare, but it wasn't a nightmare, was it? He couldn't remember any of it. He sat himself up on the bed so he could collect himself, and that's when he noticed it.

There was an odd sensation around his crotch. It felt wet and sticky... Harry sighed upon the realization that he had had a wet dream. He might have been embarrassed about it, but he had started having them shortly after the second Tri-wizard task last year. Most of them had been about Cho at the time, but after Voldemort killed Cedric, they changed over to Ron. Ron himself had had several after Hermione consented to be his girlfriend. In fact, it looked like he might be having one now.

Harry furrowed his brow. He knew for some reason that this dream didn't involve Ron in the slightest, though he didn't know whom it did, or why. It puzzled him that he couldn't remember the dream. And it also frustrated him because he would have to wait until later to clean himself up. Though he knew the perfect spell (Seamus had taught it to him after catching Harry "in the act" one time) but because he wasn't at school, he wasn't allowed to do magic.

He didn't want to get the Weasley's in trouble either so he would have to clean himself up the old fashioned way. With a cold shower. Harry looked at the clock next to Ron's bed. The moment he did, it flipped from "Bedtime" to "Go back to sleep!" Definitely too early to take a shower.

He sat back against the wall with a quiet sigh and reflected on his recent life events. His incarceration and beating at the hands of his now late uncle, Vernon Dursley, Coming out to Ron and Hermione. Meeting Simon and Kim.

As Harry thought of Simon, something stirred inside him. Something stirred down below as well. Could Simon have been the one he dreamed about? Sure he was cute in a nerdy sort of way. He wore silver wire frame glasses that seemed to go perfectly with his deep blue eyes.

Harry sighed contentedly as he experienced another stir. Simon was definitely the cause of this night's nocturnal emission. But something about him was nagging Harry in the back of his mind. No, not something about him, something about what he said.

When they walked back to the Leaky Cauldron earlier that day, Simon told Harry what happened to the Dursleys. Harry couldn't bring himself to grieve for them. When asked why, Harry merely said 'As you were hurt, so was I, by them.' Simon didn't know what to say at that point, so Harry changed the subject.

But it was that part of their conversation that Harry was remembering now. Why was it nagging him so? His uncle and aunt were dead now, why was it bothering him so?

Then realization struck him harder than Vernon had ever done. The fire wasn't an accident. He didn't know if it was intentional or not, but it was certainly not a coincidence. It definitely had something to do with that strange object. Harry chided himself for not connecting everything sooner.

No longer concerned with anything else, Harry lit the candle lamp on Ron's desk. He pulled out some parchment and a quill and began writing.

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

You've often asked me to tell you about anything odd that's happened to me, especially when my scar is hurting. Well it's not and hasn't since Voldemort's return, but something very odd did happen this summer. In fact, it was the indirect cause of my current physical condition.

About a month ago, as I was weeding the front garden, a man had collapsed right into the rose hedge. I tried to see if he was okay, but he saw my scar. He smiled then he gave me something and said something that sounded like a spell. He died right then.

Vernon locked me in the cupboard, thinking I had killed him but I didn't. I swear I didn't kill him. I tried showing Vernon what the man had given me, but when he grabbed it, it burned him. That's when he started in on me. I tried to explain to Vernon but he wouldn't believe me. He just kept hitting...

Harry didn't notice that he was crying until that point. They fell silently as Harry tried to continue his letter, but he couldn't. He also didn't notice that Ron was now awake and had been watching him write.

"Harry?" he asked quietly, "Are you okay?"

Harry couldn't bear to look at Ron. His shame at being completely weak tore at him, almost as much as the pain of remembering Vernon's punishment. Ron crawled out of bed and strode quietly over to the desk. Harry turned away from him but made no attempts to hide his letter. Ron quickly read it, and in a moment of unusual tact, said nothing. He just carefully took the quill from Harry's hand and finished the letter for him.

Dear Professor, It's Ron Weasley, Harry couldn't finish the letter so I am doing it for him. We found out yesterday that the Dursley's were killed in a house fire. I don't know anything else about what is going on, but Mum and me will take care of him. I promise. -Ron

Ron tied the letter to Hedwig's leg. She didn't want to leave at first, seeing Harry so distraught, but Ron looked at her and said, "This is important. Take this to Dumbledore." That was apparently all she needed because she flew out the window faster than Ron had ever seen.

Harry was still crying quiet sobs from the desk chair. Ron picked him up as if he were as light as air. Harry didn't seem to object as he was carried over to Ron's bed. Ron set him down and then spooned up behind him. He gently rubbed Harry's hair and let The Boy Who Lived cry himself to sleep.

---

His lover's caress was sheer pleasure. Every subtle touch sent quivers throughout his young body. They kissed passionately in their lust. Held each other tightly in their love. He let his hands wander his lover's body. Lightly up the back, fingers running gently through the hair and coming to brush softly against his lightning scar.

Simon's eyes snapped open as he gasped in astonishment. His body convulsed slightly as it released it's pent up tension. The warm sensation slowly spreading across his now tender loins. The orgasm sending shocks through out his body in the most sensitive places.

As his body recovered from it's exertion, Simon's consciousness bloomed. He was wide-awake now, knowing full well that his "lover" was none other than the boy who lived, Harry Potter.

Simon sighed in frustration. This wasn't the first wet dream he had, nor, he reckoned, would it be his last. It also wasn't the first time that it involved a boy. Upon reflection, Simon couldn't recall ever having one involving a girl before. This had bothered him at first, but then Simon accepted the fact that he was gay and that trying to think or act otherwise was just foolishness.

But to have a wet dream about a boy he just met? Granted, he had seen Harry before on numerous occasions on Privet drive, but those had been fleeting, and Simon wasn't one to have fantasies on looks alone.

What was worse was that the boy he fantasized about was one of the most famous wizards of the time. Simon had read his grandfather's Daily Prophets, so he knew who Harry Potter was, he just didn't know it was his neighbor. Not until the afternoon before.

He recalled their conversation. It was mostly Harry talking at first, while Simon was recovering from his panic attack, but then soon Simon was talking back. They had exchanged a brief history of their lives in the small amount of time it took to walk back to the Leaky Cauldron. At the time Simon was just grateful to have made a new friend, but now it seemed his subconscious wanted more than just friendship.

With another sigh, more from the resigned loneliness familiar to him, Simon got out of bed to change his undergarments. As he removed the soiled boxers, he reflected that it was times like these that he was glad his chores included doing his own laundry. As open as he was with his parents, there were just some things that they didn't need to know.

Cleaned up and re-dressed in nightclothes, Simon crawled back into bed. No sooner did he put his head on his pillow than his new cat landed on it right next to him. Simon smiled contentedly. He was originally going to get an owl, but when this frisky ball of fur jumped into his hands, he fell in love instantly. He also liked the idea of having at least one friend at Hogwarts, Harry not withstanding.

His parents bought an owl anyway. Their reasoning being that they would not have to wait until Simon mailed them before they could mail him back. And if he needed to send anything out, he could always use a school owl. Simon liked that idea, not that it would have mattered. The cat, which was now purring heartily under Simon's attention, had definitely won him over. As selfish as it would have been, he would have gone the whole year without mailing his parents if he had to.

"Othello" Simon spoke quietly. The cat responded to its name as if it had it all its life rather than a half a day. "School starts soon. A whole new world to get used to. It won't be easy."

The cat just continued to purr as Simon pet his soft fur.

"Think I'll be able to survive?"

Othello mewed softly, as if in response, then purred even more as he curled up next to Simon's chest.

"Optimist." Simon said sleepily, and then fell back into a restful sleep.

---

James and Athena watched their young son sleep soundly. They watched as the boy smiled in his sleep, dreaming of magic wands, fantastic creatures and wizard's fizzles. Content that at least one member of their family would be nightmare free tonight, they both quietly left him to his dreams while they walked downstairs.

They were quiet not because they might disturb their son, but because they wanted to enjoy the peacefulness as much as possible, before the coming storm.

James had sent word to the others of the boy that Kim had seen. The boy that they had met with the Weasleys. The boy named Harry Potter. They would soon respond with instructions that both James and Athena already knew. Kim would be required to watch and report on this Harry Potter.

Kim would do his duty, of that neither of them had any doubt, but what troubled them both was the fact that their son was a wizard, like one of those whom the Knights had first served.

The Knights had latent magic within them. Such power was bestowed upon their ancestors that even after many generations, it was still present. But even for the first knights, it was never enough for them to be considered wizards. Merlin himself saw to that for a specific reason. He saw first hand that power can corrupt, so he both blessed and cursed those chosen to defend his keep.

Blessed with certain enhanced abilities: perception, strength, intellect, the Knights would protect the keep from those who would commit evil, yet cursed by limiting their powers. Never could they grow beyond what he gave them. Until now.

It was not lost on James and Athena that their order would wish to use Kim and his abilities to their own ends. But as noble a cause as theirs was, was it enough to rob their son of his right to lead his own life.

This was what was on their minds as they slept that night. This was what gave them worrisome dreams. That they might spurn their son away from them was haunting reality. One that James hoped to avoid with his warning to Kim.

"There may come a time when you must decide between what is best for the Knights, and what is best for you. That choice is yours and yours alone."

He reiterated those words before Kim went to bed, and his wife agreed. The Knights would have blanched at that if they knew. Their order, although far from malevolent, had been known to be a little heavy handed when it came to matters of usable resources. They wouldn't go so far as to harm Kim, after all their charter is to protect not only the keep, but what it stood for. However, even the most noble of causes can fall to the whims of the fanatic. It would be safer to keep things to themselves at this point.

And then there was this Harry Potter, the boy whose scar was surely the crown of lightning. What would become of him in the times to come? The key had been found and lost again, quite possibly to the enemy, whoever that was. If so, they would surely move to find and open the Keep. To do that, they would need this boy.

James and Athena would have preferred to watch Harry instead of Kim. But the situation could not be helped. Kim was the only Knight accessible to him. He would have to be enough. Their thoughts mirroring each other's, James and Athena held each other close and prayed for their son.

---

Aaron tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable enough to sleep. He was still getting used to the soft down mattresses, but that wasn't the sole reason for his insomnia.

Something was awry with his new student. When they sat down to lunch that afternoon, the boy was nearly beside himself when he saw the Harry Potter boy. He did a fantastic job of hiding it from everyone else, but Aaron knew better. Body language was another form of communication and young Kim was absolutely screaming.

The boy's father and mother were also offset by something. And it all had to do with Harry Potter. Aaron couldn't figure out what but it was obvious to him that Harry didn't know he was causing such a disturbance.

Aaron did have to hand it to the Vermont family; they were quite astute in covering their agitation. Kim not so much as suppressing it as hiding it behind the guise of being like a kid in a candy store.

But Aaron knew. He didn't ask because the hidden looks that had passed between parent and child told him volumes. They didn't want anyone knowing about it.

Aaron turned over again, thinking about the other things that were bothering him. Lunch with the Weasley's was an interesting affair. The twins body language also suggested that they knew something, only it had nothing to do with Harry, but with Aaron himself!

The asked some very leading and mildly pointed questions. Aaron couldn't hear the tone in their voice but he could see the way they held themselves as they talked. They were fishing for information. Aaron was sure they were plotting something, though what he had no clue. Considering the stories he heard from some of the professors at Hogwarts, it could prove to be quite an embarrassing situation if he wasn't careful. Then again, it could be downright amusing as well.

Of course, he had already begun planning a retaliation.

Aaron sighed. He was fooling himself if he thought that those other things were what was really keeping him up. In truth it was Bill. Bill Weasley.

This past week had been near hell for Aaron because of Bill. Just being around him was intoxicating, but when Bill had sat down with him to discuss how they could best suit Kim's needs, it took all of Aaron's consciousness just to keep his mind on the tasks and not try and molest the red-haired god that was unknowingly teasing him so.

Aaron smiled contentedly as his body reacted rather positively at that thought. Positively indeed. Aaron continued his thinking and with that, aided his body's reaction.

He imagined caressing Bill's sweet tanned and rugged face. Running his fingers through his long fire-red hair. Playing connect the dots with Bill's multitudes of freckles. Bill would hold him in his strong arms and talk to him, his deep voice rumbling throughout his body. They would make unbridled, passionate love with each other, and then they would hold each other until they fell into a blissful sleep.

Aaron gasped and sighed as he climaxed. His body, long overdue for release, rebelled against him and he had to just lie there for a few minutes before he was able to move again.

Aaron savored the electric sensation as much as he could, but it was a melancholic pleasure, riddled with the reality that Aaron would never taste that sweetness which he desired.

He sighed, contented and frustrated at the same time. He would be spending almost a whole year among his desire. Though he knew he could keep control of himself, he internally screamed at the thought. He didn't want to control himself. He wanted to shout out his love for Bill.

Aaron paused in his thoughts. How could he love Bill? He had only known him for barley more than a week and even then it was in passing. Yes, he definitely lusted after him, of that there was no doubt, but did he really love him or was it just loneliness fooling him?

Aaron decided that he would find out the answer, knowing that regardless, Bill would never be his. The decision made, Aaron could no longer stay awake. He drifted off into the dream world where is desires and fears would continue to volley back and forth.

---

Bill Weasley drove the motorcycle as fast as he dared. At that time in the morning, the Muggle police weren't out in force looking for speeders, but caution was prudent. Especially as Bill didn't have a license nor did he even own the vehicle. Without even a Muggle birth certificate, Bill was a blank, an unknown entity. A traffic stop would mean instant jail time for him.

Though the Muggle jails were nothing compared to Azkaban, they could be problematic nonetheless. His wand would undoubtedly be taken away from him, which meant that he wouldn't be able to Apparate. Plus the only person who Bill knew who had access to a phone was Darrin. Though Darrin wasn't exactly on Scotland Yard's ten most wanted list, Bill was sure that it would be a bad idea to try and call him if he got arrested.

So he kept to the speed limit, though it grated him to do so. Darrin owled him, asking him to meet at his flat. Bill agreed hoping that Darrin would have some information on the machinations of Voldemort. He looked in the sidecar at the sack of goodies that Bill convinced his mother to prepare, including several mince pies.

With barely a minute to spare, Bill arrived at Darrin's apartment complex. Darrin was waiting for him at the front of the door. Bill grabbed the sack of food and followed him in without a word. Once they got inside Darrin's flat, it was a different story.

"What in the blazes are you doin'?" Darrin chided Bill, "Yeh don't have a license. If you were pulled over, that'd be all she wrote on yeh."

Bill noticed that his friend's accent dropped back to its more Irish roots, which meant that Darrin wasn't too happy.

"I was careful." He replied, a little annoyed himself at his friend's indignant attitude. "Besides, how else was I going to get here?"

"Yeh could have Apparated, yeh daft fool."

"Then how would you have gotten back your motorcycle? It's not like you could just drop on by the Burrow and say 'Hi, I'm a wanted criminal. I've been fraternizing with your son there and I lent him my illegal motorcycle. Can I have it back?'"

"And why couldn't I?"

Bill did a double take when he heard that. It wasn't until he saw Darrin's devilish smile that he realized Darrin was joking.

"Yeh can keep it. It might come in handy."

"I couldn't afford it." Bill said sternly.

"Then consider it an extended loan... I smell mince pie." Darrin dove into the sack as soon as he noticed the pleasant aroma. He came out with one of Molly Weasley's delicious mince pies. He took it over to his kitchen and served up two plates.

"Mmm... still warm. Wondrous things, warming charms." Darrin said with a mouthful.

"Okay, I got you some mince pie, so what's so important that I come meet you in the middle of the night?"

Darrin finished his mouthful before responding. "Nothing concrete, but word off the vine is that You-Know-Who is looking for something. There's been a recent demand for old historical books. Ancient texts and things of that sort. Now I'm no literary or history expert, but it seems to me that if all his supporters can't come up with the information he needs then it's not out there to be found. At least not available to the public."

"So you think that some private collections might be at risk of looting?" Bill asked, failing to resist the temptation of the plate of mince pie in front of him.

"Yes. The ministry's is well protected, but who knows how many of the ministry blokes are on Voldemort's payroll. But even then, I highly doubt the ministry's library is more comprehensive than Voldemort's. The one I worry about is Hogwarts."

"At the risk of sounding overconfident, I don't think Voldemort could get past Dumbledore."

"Himself, no, I have to agree." Darrin nodded, "But he won't need to. All it takes is for a loyal student to sneak in and get what he needs. I don't know what it is Voldemort is looking for, but he needs to find out information about it. I'd hazard to guess that whatever it is, it's old, and definitely powerful."

"So we at Hogwarts should keep our eye out?"

Darrin nodded, "Speaking of keeping an eye out, how's Harry doing?"

Bill recalled the sight when they had found Harry, and also remembered cleaning him. He was instantly put off his pie. Darrin misunderstood the reaction.

"Oh my god, he's not..."

"No!" Bill quickly replied, "No he's actually fully healed. Physically that is. I can't say how he is handling everything emotionally. He is a strong kid but even the strong have limits."

Darrin snorted, "You're telling me this?"

Bill couldn't help but smile, "Yes, yes, you've been saying that since out third year." The smile was short lived, "I'm fearful, Darrin."

Darrin could see that his Gryffindor friend was quite upset.

"These are turbulent times. We all have something to be fearful of. Voldemort."

"That's not what I mean," Bill sat down on the couch setting his half eaten piece of pie on the coffee table, "I've been living a charade for most of my life. Had it not been for finding Harry, I'd probably be happy to continue the charade."

"Hold it, Gryffindor. I can see where this is going and it's suicide."

"I'm not afraid of the Death Eaters, Darrin..."

"I'm not talking about Death Eaters, ye daft fool! I'm talking about politics. You come out of the closet now and that'll be all she wrote on your teaching career. I doubt the goblins would be to happy about it either."

"The goblins don't give a damn about anything as long as I do my job well, and I'm one of the best they've got."

"But the Governors of Hogwarts won't be to happy about it. Even Dumbledore has to answer to them. They'll toss you out quicker than you can think. And that's just if only they find out. If Rita Skeeter got a hold of it, good Gods the uproar. You'll be crucified. Quite possibly literally."

Bill just leaned back into the couch in frustration. "I know."

"Look, I can probably understand what you're going through better than anyone else. I live in the shadows, not just work there. It's not easy living a lie."

Bill gave his Slytherin friend an odd look.

"Okay, for me it is, but don't you think I occasionally wish I could walk the open street without looking behind my back?" Darrin sat down on the opposite side of the couch, "And what I really don't get is why now? What is it about Harry that got you thinking all emotional? And I'm not talking the obvious here, Gryffindor, I want the real reason."

Bill sighed and gathered his thoughts.

"I want to be a father," He finally said wistfully, "I want raise a child of my own. I want to teach him good from bad, take him to Quidditch games, teach him how to annoy Snape best. Things a father does."

"Ah, the picture becomes clearer. Seeing Harry reminded you that your biological clock is ticking."

"Women have biological clocks, not men."

Darrin laughed heartily, "Oh the anachronism that the Wizarding world still lives in is too astounding for words. Wake up and smell the Muggles, Gryffindor, men have biological clocks. The big difference is that men's clocks are less physiological and more emotional. I'm serious, they've done studies."

"Oh fine, I have a ticking clock. That doesn't change my situation. I'm still lonely, and I still want to have a child."

"And just who were you planning to have this child with? Do I have to explain to you again how babies are made?"

"I could adopt."

"Okay, I can accept that," Darrin surrendered that point, "There are orphans even among wizards. But the Ministry isn't about to let a single man adopt anyone. Got someone in mind to get hitched to?"

Bill sighed with slight smile, "Yes, but I have no idea if he's gay or not, though Fred and George seem to think he's enamored with me. I certainly am with him."

"Oh really? What's he like?"

"Don't know yet. I've been trying to find excuses to spend time with him, but it's difficult. He's so closed off, but he has a quiet dignity about him. So independent."

"Careful Gryffindor, you're starting to drool."

"It's the pie," Bill deadpanned, "Oh who am I kidding? He's probably straight. Great Merlin what am I going to do?"

"Hmmm.... well I can think of two possible solutions. First, you can deny your poofness entirely and marry a nice girl and settle down. With those eyes of yours they're practically falling off you so you certainly have a good stock to choose from."

That earned Darrin a Weasley glare.

"Okay, no more comments about the eyes. Your second option is to go off into the Muggle world where poofs like you are more accepted. Get hitched to a nice burly man, adopt and never have anything to do with magic again."

"And either way, continue to deny everything that I am and be miserable for the rest of my life."

"That about sums it up," Darrin nodded, taking another mouth full of pie, "Your mother makes the best pies."

---

It was early morning when the tapping on his window woke him. Too early for his old body, he was sure, but the tapping was persistent and was getting more so by the second.

"Very well!" Albus groaned, "Patience is a virtue. I will be there shortly."

His bones creaked in protestation of this early rousing, his mind protesting as well, but it was either get up now and answer whatever was tapping at his window, or lie in bed all morning being driven mad by it. The old professor chose the former as the lesser evil.

He opened the window and was not really surprised to see that it was Hedwig who disturbed his slumber. She was fanatic in her duties as a post owl, often going far beyond what is expected. Especially where Harry was concerned.

Albus recalled a time some two years earlier when she had shown up unannounced with no letter. At first he might have thought that Harry was in trouble, but her calm state waylaid that fear rather quickly. In reality, she had come seeking a birthday present for Harry. So tired was she of seeing him depressed on his birthday that she had traveled all over the continent in hopes of being able to deliver a present to him.

It was inappropriate for the headmaster to give student's gifts, so he had to turn her away, but he did mention that Hermione Granger was in France and might have need for an owl. If Hedwig could find Albus Dumbledore while he was on vacation, then she could certainly find a twelve-year-old English girl in France.

What became of that, Albus never knew, but that was unimportant. What was important was that Hedwig was here now and she was holding out her leg seemingly with a sense of urgency.

"Could this have waited until breakfast?" He asked tiredly.

Her indignant hoot spoke volumes as to her opinion of his priorities. Albus sighed and gently took the letter from her leg.

He found his spectacles on his desk and sat to read the letter. By the time he was finished, he was glad he had sat down. In part out of sympathy for the grief that Harry was now beginning to show about his abuse, but more so from his description of the events thus far.

Once again, Harry was a victim of circumstance. Albus felt every one of his one hundred sixty two years in that moment. He might have just sat at the desk staring out into nothingness for the whole day just pondering the implications, had it not been for Hedwig's impatience. She nipped his finger gently, just hard enough to get his attention.

"Oh, yes. Thank you Hedwig, this was indeed important." He said as he pulled out some parchment and a quill. "I wonder if I might make use of you. I need to send some letters with the utmost urgency."

In a very human like fashion, Hedwig nodded her assent, though it was more of a bow considering her avian physiology. Albus wrote out a very short letter, and then cast a duplication charm on it, making several copies. He then tied the letters to her leg.

"The first goes to Deadalus MacLeod, here in Scotland. The second to Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. You will find them Whales. The last to Arabella Figg near Privet Drive. Go quickly my friend."

Hedwig wasted no time in flying out the window on her new mission. Albus sighed heavily as he watched her fly of into the distance. When she was no longer in sight, he closed his window again and trod back to bed. There was much to do, but it couldn't be done if he was laid up in the hospital wing from exhaustion.

As sleep quickly enveloped him, he whispered an old blessing to protect his charges in the turbulent times to come. And turbulent they would be.

---

"Harry! Ron! Time to wake up!" Mrs. Weasley's voice came out from the other side of the door, "We leave for King's Cross Station in under two hours whether you've been fed or not, so you'd better hurry up."

Ron just mumbled incoherently and remained asleep. Harry woke up enough to want to roll over, but he realized that he couldn't. He was currently being held in place by Ron's arms around him. What was even more startling was that his arms were around Ron!

Harry remembered that Ron had held him as he fell asleep, but apparently during the night, Harry had managed to roll over and grab onto Ron. Ron being the heavy sleeper that he was must not have noticed.

Harry carefully extracted himself from Ron's embrace. Harry enjoyed it, but he had to get up and he didn't want Ron to think that he was being taken advantage of. As soon as he was free, he climbed out of bed and set off for the shower.

Harry took a little longer than he normally would have, despite the need for haste, but no one had complained so he figured everyone else was already ready. When he went back to Ron's room, he was surprised to see that Ron wasn't there, nor Ron's clean clothes that he'd laid out the night before.

Harry dressed quickly then set about packing the rest of his things into his trunk. He carried it downstairs as quietly as he could, but he was still a little weak from his ordeal, and he had dropped one end several times. Fred and George arrived just in time to prevent it falling for a third time.

"Oy! We got this for ya Harry," George said, "You'd better get down to breakfast quick before Ron eats what's left."

"Ron's already ready?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"Yeah," Fred answered as he and George carried his trunk down the stairs, "He used mum and dad's shower while you were in the upstairs one."

"How long was I in there?"

"About an hour." George said nonchalantly, as if hour-long showers were commonplace.

"An hour! Why didn't someone knock on the door?" Harry asked. He was shocked that he could have possibly taken that long.

"Mum," The twins replied in unison.

That was all the answer Harry needed. Mrs. Weasley was being overly motherly again. Harry wanted to be annoyed with it, but he couldn't bring himself to it. He missed out on having a mum to take care of him, so he relished every moment he could with Mrs. Weasley.

The twins carried Harry's trunk past the kitchen and out to the front porch. Harry walked into the kitchen to find that the rest of the Weasley family was finishing up breakfast. There was still plenty enough for Harry though.

Harry noticed that Percy had barley touched his breakfast and was fidgeting something awful, a most un-Percy like behavior. Then it hit him; Today was when they were going to announce the official replacement for the Director of International Magical Cooperation. Percy had submitted his resume and application for the job, and had even been filling in as a temporary replacement.

"Hey, Percy," Harry said as he sat down, "Good luck today."

Percy couldn't seem to talk but he acknowledged Harry's wishes with a nod.

"Speaking of which," Arthur said having just finished his eggs, "We'd better get going. I have it on good authority that Fudge will officially change the name of my department and assign me more staff today. I don't know what's gotten into him, but he's been rather open to change recently."

Percy nodded and stood along with his father.

"Good luck at school, children." Arthur said and then he and Percy disappeared with a "POP"

Harry served himself up a healthy portion of eggs and toast with a large glass of orange juice. Mrs. Weasley set another glass down in front of him with smoke pouring out from the top. He made a face but drank the unpalatable nutritional supplement without comment. At least this was the last time he'd have to take it.

As Harry ate, the rest of the Weasley family excused themselves to finish packing up for school. Mrs. Weasley remained and sat down across from Harry, watching him eat ravenously.

After a few moments, Harry glanced at her, feeling a little self-conscious. She just smiled.

"I'm sorry, dear, I was just worried about you. Ron told me about last night."

Harry shivered a little but didn't lose control.

"I was writing a letter to Professor Dumbledore and I remembered what Vernon did to me. I.." He couldn't continue, so he just took another big mouthful of eggs.

"It's okay, dear. You don't have to talk about it if you don't feel up to it." Molly said consolingly.

Harry nodded slightly and continued to eat his eggs in silence. Mrs. Weasley stood and cleared the dirty dishes with her wand. As she passed by Harry, she gave his shoulder an affectionate rub. In that moment, Harry felt as safe as he did the night before when Ron held him.

The contact ended far to soon for Harry, but he still felt a lot better. With renewed vigor, he dug into the rest of his breakfast.

---

Simon and his parents arrived at King's Cross Station quite early, but still hadn't found Platform 9 ¾. They had quickly learned not to ask anyone at the station after the first clerk yelled at them.

"What is it with you people? I mean really, this practical joke nonsense has gone far enough. There is no Platform ¾!"

Simon looked around for anything that might look remotely wizardish, but couldn't find anything.

"It's 10:30," his mother said, "I hope we find it soon. I'd hate to have you miss your first day of school."

"I'm torn on whether or not I share that sentiment, mum," Simon answered nervously but still looked around, "However it'd be a lousy start to my wizarding career if I missed the first day."

"Why don't we try Platform 9 & 10 again," Simon's father said, "I seem to remember your mum mentioning something about that."

"You know, it's things like that that make me think I inherited my eidetic memory from you rather than my birth father."

"And mother," Elaine added.

"Whatever, it's still creepy."

With a small laugh, David patted his adopted son's back.

After a brief walk, the three soon found themselves on Platforms 9 & 10. Everything looked so mundane it was depressing. Simon's nerves were even more agitated. He was far from a panic attack, he knew, but his heart was beating a little too fast anyway. He took several deep breaths to calm himself down.

His third exhale was a sigh of complete relief and all the tension and nervousness were completely gone, though it had nothing to do with the breathing. Harry Potter and his friends had just walked onto the platform.

"Look, there's Harry Potter," Simon said excitedly, "The boy I met in Diagon Alley. He must go to Hogwarts, too. He'll be able to help us."

Simon walked at a brisk pace with his parents and luggage trolley in tow. The gap between him and Harry was soon closed.

"Harry," Simon called to get his attention.

Harry looked over at to where he heard his named being called and smiled to see Simon. He waved Simon over to where he and the Weasley's were standing, preparing to enter the secret passage to Platform 9 ¾. Simon and his parents joined them quickly.

"Hi Simon," Harry said a little bit to excitedly, but Simon didn't notice. Ron did and stifled his snicker into a cough. George and Fred also noticed, but merely looked at each other and smiled devilishly.

"We have been here since a quarter after ten looking for Platform 9 ¾." Simon said, exasperated, "I was beginning to think that the letter was some elaborate hoax my grandfather concocted."

"No, it's no hoax. But they hide the platform from the Muggles. It's safer that way." Harry replied, more in control after hearing Ron's snicker/cough, "The way to the platform is through that barrier."

Simon looked in disbelief at Harry. Harry smiled.

"It's true. Watch Fred."

At the obvious cue, Fred took his luggage trolley and lined up with the barrier. He did a quick check to make sure no one was looking and then broke at a full run heading straight towards the barrier. When he disappeared through the magical gateway, Elaine gasped.

"Oh good heavens!" She said nervously, "He's okay, isn't he?"

"Oh he's fine, dear," Mrs. Weasley replied with a smile, "It a special spell that let's only wizards through. I'm Molly Weasley. The red heads are obviously my children, and your boy already knows Harry."

"Elaine Thomas," She replied, still a little off centered by what she witnessed, "This is my husband, David. Only wizards? Oh dear, that means that we'll have to say goodbye now, Simon."

Simon sighed, and then hugged and kissed both his parents. He then looked at Harry.

"Okay, what do I do?"

"Line up as perfect as you can," Harry explained, "Since this is your first time through, you might want to take it at a run. When you are in the portal itself, you'll feel a little weird, but don't stop. You won't get stuck, but you can get very disoriented and pop out sideways."

Simon took several deep breaths, lined up with the barrier, waved to his parents one last time, then broke into a full run. When he was sure that he would stay lined up with the barrier, he closed his eyes and ran even faster.

Suddenly, he felt as if he were floating and twisting, upside down and every which way, but he felt the ground firmly beneath him so he kept on running. After a brief but terrifying experience, he felt normal again and stopped. He opened his eyes and saw Platform 9 ¾ lay out before him.

After clearing out of the way so the others could get through, Simon took a good look around the platform. There was the Hogwarts Express, with students of all ages boarding and loading their trunks. Parents were chatting with each other while their children caught themselves up about their summers. Owls, cats and other animal noises could be heard throughout the platform but it was nothing compared to the noise the humans were making.

"It's a lot to take in at first, but you get used to it," Harry said from behind Simon, causing him to jump, "Wait till you get a load of Hogwarts itself. Now that's a sight to behold."

"I can imagine." Was all he could manage to say.

"Oh, your mother said to owl her the first moment you get. She want's to make sure you got there okay."

Simon rolled his eyes and his face turned a little red. Harry just laughed. Soon Ron, Ginny, and George joined them, followed by Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh what lovely people your parents are," Mrs. Weasley told Simon, "You should owl them first thing tomorrow morning to let them know you're okay."

Harry started snickering, as Simon turned even redder. Thankfully he was saved from more ribbing by the arrival of Hermione Granger.

"Hi Harry. Hi Ron," she said as she gave Simon a thoughtful look, "What was your name again?"

Simon cleared his throat, "Um.. I'm Simon."

"Hermione Granger," she held out her hand.

Simon took it into his own hand with some trepidation but dutifully shook it. When it was clear he wasn't going to say more, Hermione took the initiative once again.

"I didn't get to apologize the other day. I just wanted to say I'm sorry that we startled you." she looked over to Ron to follow suit. When it was clear to her that he didn't get it, she kicked him.

"Ow! What?" One glare from Hermione told him all he needed to know. "Oh, yeah, I'm sorry, too. Harry's a real good friend of mine and I can overreact sometimes."

Simon didn't want to extend the conversation any further than he had to, as Ron still very much intimidated him.

"Sure," he said almost to quickly, "It happens. Um.. I'm going to go find a compartment now. I'll see you around."

He gave Harry one last smile, "Thanks for your help."

Harry said something but Simon was already making a hasty exit away from that group. Even though he considered Harry a friend, he didn't feel likewise about Hermione or Ron, and he didn't want to put Harry in an uncomfortable position.

The train was very old fashioned from what Simon was used to, but it was a pleasant new experience for him all the same. Though lugging his trunk up the doorway took some work. He finally managed to get it on the train and into an empty compartment.

Once he had the trunk safely stowed, he let Othello out of his basket. The black tabby mewled his pleasure at finally being freed from the wicker prison. He purred contentedly as Simon gave him a few skritches and pets, then he set about investigating the compartment.

Simon sat next to the window that faced out onto the platform. He noticed Harry talking with his two friends and sighed, wishing dearly it were him that he was talking to. Better yet, holding hands and doing other more intimate things.

Simon shook his head clear of the impure thoughts. One of the last things he needed now was to get a hard on. It could cause some serious complications.

And what's more, he hardly knew Harry. Simon chalked it up to hormones, as he hadn't fully gone through puberty yet. The signs were there, but the were minute. His voice only just started to break and even that was barley noticeable.

He sighed again for no particular reason. Othello crawled into his lap and padded his front paws on Simon's chest, investigating the sigh. He mewled inquisitively and sniffed Simon's face. Simon laughed lightly as his cat's whiskers tickled his face.

A light knock on the door caught both their attention. Heads turned simultaneously to the door. Simon recognized the small boy as the deaf Kim he met at Madam Malkin's Robe Shop. He motioned for the boy to come in.

Kim opened the door and smiled.

[Hello,] he signed, [Would you mind if I joined you? You're the only one that I'm sure knows sign language aside from my interpreter.]

Simon replied slowly to make sure he was understood, mostly for himself.

[I don't mind at all. Where is your interpreter, anyway?]

Kim gave a small scowl, [Up near the engine with the other adults. He said the headmaster wanted me to try and socialize without him as much as possible. He said now was as good a time as any.]

Simon suppressed a smile. Deaf or not, Kim was as precocious as any eleven-year-old Simon had ever met.

[Well I am glad you are here. It will give me good practice with my sign language.]

[Thanks!] Kim disappeared for a second as he went to fetch his trunk. He brought it in and with Simon's help, stowed away for their long journey.

The two chatted about themselves a bit. Kim talked about Mr. Weasley giving him his letter and the magic he witnessed on the Wizards Fizzle.

Simon, in turn told Kim about how he got his letter from his grandfather and why he was starting Hogwarts so late in his life.

Pretty soon, the Hogwarts Express was on its way.