The sun rose leaving lurid reds and oranges across the sky. It splashed pale pinks and yellows upon the white canvas of the earth, framing Hogwarts in all her glory. The wind had all but disappeared during the night but it was still bitterly cold. The snow had yet again wiped all traces of disturbance, footprints, animal tracks and such from the previous day, leaving a crisp, clean landscape. It exuded a timeless air, as if the world had stopped at this point to appreciate the beauty it wrought. And at this hour of the morning, who was awake to witness this marvel of artwork being created? Said person was entranced by the beauty and grace that nature had spelled, his emerald green eyes sparkling with appreciation and awe. He was home here, no doubt about it.

As time wore on, and The-Boy-Who-Lived sat huddled, motionless upon his rock, by the glittering frozen lake, the day had begun to progress. The castle began to stir with the reluctant activity of it's students on their way to breakfast. As the sun climbed higher in it's journey, it created an angle such that it reflected dazzlingly into Harry's eyes, blinding him temporarily. He shook his head in slight confusion, wondering where his morning had gone to and resignedly trudged up to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Previously he had avoided the Great Hall, as he knew the ambient magic within as well as the gathering of numerous magical beings in one place would possibly drive him to hysteria. So he took his meals in the kitchens. However, he knew he couldn't avoid it forever and he'd rather get it over with sooner than later. He didn't want to admit it of course, but his isolation was another factor. He hated that he felt so alone amongst hundreds of others. That he felt so alone in a crowd of people, clichéd as it sounded.

He paused at the doors to the Great Hall. Apprehension was taut in every muscle in his body as he prepared himself, willed himself to move. He had an itch he couldn't, no he wouldn't scratch now. And so tingles shot up and down his wrist to his annoyance. With a deep breath, he closed his eyes, muttered a short prayer to Merlin, and as unobtrusively as possible he slipped into the hall.

Good natured chatter chimed throughout the grand space but it was the sheer intensity of colour that assaulted his eyes immediately and forcefully that had him faltering slightly. There was every colour imaginable and it's sister, shining through, vying for his attention, darting this way and that, or swirling lazily in spirals and even some bubbled languidly like a thick boiling potion. It was worse than he could have imagined. There wasn't a single person or object that didn't glow with an aura. He almost couldnt bear it and the hall was only half full.

He closed his eyes once more, stoically preparing himself for the onslaught, taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart. With that, he slowly made his way to the end of the Gryffindor table, which had become 'his' spot. Once seated he buried his head in his hands, missing the mildly worried glances the Headmaster and his Head of House shot each other. Of course, when it was too late, they decided to finally take heed of the warning signs that practically screamed from Harry.

Professor Snape and Madame Pomphrey were also concerned for the boy, having had more interaction with the boy these passes few days and having a much more accurate insight to his current state of mind. Madame Pomphrey had to squash her maternal instincts to run over to the boy and protect him, gathering him up under her wing. It was a rare case where she became emotionally attached to her patients, but with everything that the poor child had suffered through, mainly through their own fault, he joined the rare few.

Snape was also having difficulty controlling his paternal instincts, however he was also cursing the mere fact that he was even having them for The-Boy-Who-Had-Wormed-His-Way-Into-His-Heart! Nevertheless he was having a hard time reigning in his need to aid the boy as he was clearly being overwhelmed by the abundance of Magic here.

He was on the verge of shooting out of his chair when he saw something which shot a dart of hope through him. Harry was still buried in his hands, which seemed to clench tightly to his messy hair almost as if it were anchoring him to reality. However, a lone figure stood up from the crowd at the opposite end of the table, and made his way to where Harry sat hunched in upon himself, and settled down beside him. Perhaps there was hope after all, and he finally relaxed enough to pay attention to his breakfast, keeping one eye constantly scrutinizing the pair.

P&S P&S P&S P&S P&S

Harry was trying his best to calm himself from the maelstrom of colour which overloaded his senses. It was all he could to hold onto his frayed nerves and so breakfast was totally forgotten.

Therefore, when a gentle touch disturbed his elbow, his eyes shot open in alarm and he almost jumped out of his very skin. He still wasn't used to any sort of casual contact, courtesy of his Aunt and Uncle.

"Hey Harry," a quiet voice uttered, calming him slightly.

He was surprised to see that it was Neville. It seemed like an age since he had last spoken to him but he had changed,in more ways than one. Some things were more noticeable than others, such as his lean figure; he had finally grown out of his plump shape. But others were almost imperceptible. Like the serious look in his eyes or the alert air he had developed. He had grown up in a short time, and he now had a quiet strength to his presence.

"Hey Neville," he returned just as quietly.

And then they lapsed into an awkward silence, each concentrating on their plates before them, Harry finally able to focus on eating and tuning out the visible magic in the air.

Eventually it became too much and Neville broke, " Look Harry, I'm going to be blunt."

Harry stared at the boy in surprise. Definitely gone was the shy stuttering boy to be replaced by one that was self assured and confident.

"We've noticed how Ron, Hermione and you have drifted apart. We've seen how increasingly isolated you've become and how most of the teachers paid you no heed even though it was clear to us you were breaking." he was staring at Harry dead on and, Harry, looking past the boy noticed how some of the other students at the end of the table lent a close eye on them, without appearing to do so. Neville continued, "We kept our distance, mainly because we didn't know how to approach you, but we can't watch you suffer anymore, particularly when you think you're alone. Just know that we're here and you don't need 'them', " at which he shrugged his head at the two that seemed completely oblivious to all but themselves, "when they obviously couldn't care a whit about you and after all you have been through together."

Harry felt warmth spread through his body and he felt a hole that he long ago neglected, be filled. It was like he had forgotten what it was like to be a part of something. It made him feel like he belonged once again, but at the same time it was a foreign feeling and he was slightly wary. What if they abandoned him like his 'other' friends? And once that can of worms had been opened, the doubts rushed in. He was confused.

With a resigned sigh he whispered " You don't know how good to hear that there are people out there who support me. I don't want to spoil the gift you have given me, but you have to understand. I just need a little time to think on this.....revelation. Please!"

Neville placed a hand on Harry's shoulder in a show of sympathy and support, " We understand Harry. It's only natural. Just, don't forget that we're here and you're ..... you're just not alone. Ok?" With a last squeeze, Neville got up and re-joined his group at the other end of the table.

Who would have thought Neville would be so perceptive? This was everything he had hoped for, right? Support, camaraderie and friendship? Then why was he do reluctant to accept something he wanted? No, he needed?

P&S P&S P&S P&S P&S

It was a long day, and the first of which he was back in classes after his ordeal. It was hard being back, catching up on what he had missed trying to ignore Magic's almost playfulness in the classroom. He was constantly distracted when a tendril of magic might mischievously curl around some innocent students quills, randomly changing them colour, or moving books slyly, leaving the poor students confused as to who the culprits were. He was amazed that magic seemed to have sentience when left alone and were almost like mischievous children, until a larger arm of magic would step in before things got out of hand and berate the playful ones. It almost seemed like a parent/child relationship. And yet this all occurred through the use of various colour intensity changes and movements the tendrils would create, as no words were spoken. And yet Harry understood perfectly. Needless to say his focus was far from where it should be and so he didn't get much done, earning him plenty of scolds and berating.

And so it was a drained Harry that trudge through the portrait hole to Gryffindor tower that evening, fully intent on doing as little homework as possible to relieve some of the strain.

But as he entered the common room he saw a group of 6th years in one corner, enjoying themselves in a game of exploding snap. Neville, Parvarti, and Dean. And then upon further examination he realized that there were others from different houses present also. What happened to the house rivalry? There were even two Slytherins. Was he really that oblivious to his surroundings. He recognized Luna and Padma from Ravenclaw. Susan and Justin from Hufflepuff. And Daphne and Blaise from Slytherin. This was the same group that had sat at the end of Gryffindor table this morning, watching himself and Neville closely. How did such a group form? How was it the other members of Gryffindor were not protesting their presence? Perhaps, if they were able to overcome the house rivalry, they wouldn’t abandon him like Ron and Hermione had?

In fact, both said people were over on the settee in front of the open fire, completely immersed in themselves. The fact that they took no notice of the group solidified his resolve.

Tentatively he wandered over to Neville. As he got closer all eyes shot to himself, making him increasingly nervous. Neville twisted around to look at the newcomer and smiled gently as he saw who it was.

"Ummm hey guys. Do you mind if I join?" he asked quietly, his tense body ready for rejection.

The blinding smiles he got in answer was a shock to his system, as were the chorus of "of course" and various "yeah mate". Susan and Neville pulled Harry down into the circle they sat cross-legged in.

"Harry, welcome to those that have overcome the house rivalry and since, have opened our eyes in more ways than one." Neville stated proudly. "Welcome to those that support you as just Harry and not The-Boy-Who-Lived."

Harry gauged the reactions around him and quickly ascertained that they genuine. And for the first time in a long time a huge smile lit his face.

P&S P&S P&S P&S P&S

"Harrrry"

He was in that mysterious room again. Nothing had changed. He went through the same routine again, taking in the different sections of the room before finally getting to the portraits over the fireplace. He went closer, trying to capture some sort of detail. And again, he nudged a step closer, before he felt a tugging at his navel, almost like a portkey. Before he faded, he caught a quick glimpse of two men and two women each in their own portrait.

"Haaaarrryyy Pottteerrr!"

He shot up in his bed for the second time in a row. He glanced out the window noticing the first light of the morning. Making a snap decision, he threw on his clothes grabbed his wand and shot down the dorm stairs and out the portrait hole, his familiars trailing lazily behind. As he traversed the corridors he pondered the strange dream. It was identical to the first one he had, down to every single detail and the routine he explored the room in. The only difference was he seemed to get a step further. And literally it was only a step, where he recognized the gender of each in the portraits above before he was pulled into consciousness.

He arrived at the entrance doors, slipping out of one stealthily. He stood on the top step for a minute, before settling down on it, his familiars settling down beside him. And he waited.

The Sun rose in the east, like the previous morning, bathed in reds and oranges. As it rose higher, pinks and yellows slid up the mighty frame of Hogwarts framing her like a spotlight on the sparkling snowy background and lighting up the dark figures that sat at the entrance to the mighty stronghold. The sun was a fiery entity in the sky, claiming it's territory over the night, as the moon sank below the horizon. There was nothing technically magical about the sunrise, but in Harry's mind it was the most magical thing in the world.