The sun had just started to set, and Harry was still sitting idly in the hospital wing. Low sunlight ran patterns across the room and the occupants. An empty tray lay forgotten on a side table.

Mad-eye Moody was still sitting at his sentinel position across, and halfway down the hall. Since Dumbledore left, the only time Moody had moved from his spot was to inspect the house elf, and tray that had been brought Harry his dinner earlier. Thankfully, he did not feel the need to escort Harry into the hospital water closet earlier. If he had done more than just follow Harry with his magical eye, Harry had been quite sure that he would not been able to keep quiet about it. There was only so much a teenaged boy could handle in one day, and being baby-sat to the loo was not one of them.

Harry tried to reread the chapter about shielding once more before giving up and placing the book closed on the foot of the bed. He was an odd, bundled combination of excitement and apprehension for the trip. He felt guilty that he was looking forward to a summer without Voldemort while the Order Members and Wizarding community couldn't, but he also had never really been out of the country before. Well not for any sort of holiday. He was anxious about being deaged, but he was also looking forward to having a real holiday before he may-or-may-not die. His thoughts were rambling down a bad path. He distracted himself by recalling what had happened so far that day.

In the early morning, Harry had been rudely awoken to the sound of "pops" and Tonks falling into his room from the window. Only the fact that she had knocked over the lamp, chair, and Hedwig's cage when she had entered, and been able to correctly answer a question ("What animal's nose did you wear to make Ginny laugh at Order Headquarters?") had persuaded Harry to use the Portkey, and not stupefy her on the spot.

He had been upset with her at first, but had quickly agreed that it was best that he not get involved with another confrontation with the Death Eaters until he had to. Knowing about the prophecy, and talking with Remus and other Order Members this summer, had helped him focus on his main goal of stopping Voldemort. It had hurt to disregard his hatred and planned revenge on Bellatrix and Pettigrew in favour of the bigger picture. Distractions could only hinder him and there were other people who were willing, and even hoping, to get at them. Like Remus.

Remus had written him every day and even visited a few times at night, explaining how Sirius used to be, and how Azkaban had changed him... how close he and James had been and how he screamed at night in his nightmares begging for forgiveness... his fits of depression. He had never been quite right after his incarceration, and while Remus missed and grieved him terribly, he felt that it had been a kind way for him to go. He had died protecting his godson as he had wanted to, and now he would be able to find the closure and forgiveness that he had been unable to in life.

After escorting him up from Hogwarts' gate to the front doors, Tonks had lead him to the Kitchens to have a "proper Hogwarts breakfast" while the excitement died down. Harry sensed that it was her way of apologizing for portkeying him out of his room that morning, and even though he had been apprehensive and a little frightened of the thought of anyone he knew getting hurt or killed, he tried to go along with her plan and wait until there was further news. After so many years trying to figure things out for himself, he decided that the Order and Dumbledore realized by now that it was easier just to tell him. Or so he hoped. They had then wandered to the library where Mad-eye Moody had found them hours later, nose deep in books about defense. It was then that Harry had learned the outcome of the attack that morning. His relatives were unharmed (unfortunately), as were most of the Order Members, and Ministry Aurors who arrived after he had been portkeyed out. A few Death Eaters had been captured either alive or dead, and Moody said that there had been some commotion about their identities that Albus Dumbledore and the Ministry were trying to straighten out.

Moody then relieved Tonks of her 'Harry-sitting' duties and escorted Harry to the Hospital wing. It was lucky that Harry had had the foresight to bring along some of the more interesting Defense books from the library because he had been stuck here for hours with only Moody and a busy Nurse for company.

He looked over to where Remus lay sleeping. When he had come in, bleeding, Harry had had a moment of fear. Remus was the last of the Marauders that he could trust and Harry had desperately wanted him to remain alive. He had jumped off the bed when an abrupt "Potter!" from Moody had stopped him midstride. Moody probably thought that Remus was an imposter or infected with some other crazy paranoid thing. He would have ignored it and continued if Remus hadn't raised his head and reassured him that he was okay, "Just some minor scratches, Harry. Nothing Madame Pomfrey can't take care of." The nurse had bustled in then and Harry had reluctantly returned to his designated bed, still keeping a watchful eye on the werewolf as the Nurse administered to him. When Pomfrey had run to a supply cabinet on the other wall Remus had given him the first news of Wormtail's capture. "I got him Harry. For good this time." It was a hollow victory, and Harry could see it in Remus' worn expression from there.

At least Harry now knew the identity of the Death Eater that had tied up both Dumbledore and the Ministry for so long.

Harry was snapped back to the here and now as the doors to the hospital wing opened and gave off an audible whine. Harry recognized Dumbledore's pointy hat entering the wing, soon followed by the rest of the old Wizard. This time he looked tired and happy, as opposed to the just plain tired he had looked earlier, at the end of the year.

"There you are Harry!" As if he had expected Harry to be able to go anywhere else? Harry swung his legs over the bed and stood as Dumbledore approached. Moody eyed the Headmaster suspiciously from his position. "Let's take a trip up to my office, shall we?"

Harry followed the other man out. When Moody made as if he were to follow, Dumbledore stopped to dismiss him. "Thank you Alastor. I believe that you are expected at Headquarters."

Moody nodded, "Of course." and hobbled out. Harry thought that there had been some hidden message given, but he had missed it.

They took the now memorized trip up to the Headmaster's office, and Dumbledore gave the password, "Krispy Kreme" to the Gargoyle.

Once they arrived, Harry was relieved to find the shelves just as full as they had been before his outburst at the end of the year. Dumbledore walked over to a short cupboard and pulled out a small wooden box.

"I procured this awhile ago, yet have not had a use for it until now." He opened the box and Harry could see several small glass vials placed within the velvet lining. He extracted one and Harry could see that it was filled with a clear liquid. As Dumbledore lifted it up and inspected it, the light from the setting sun caught on the liquid and illuminated it to a bright, illuminescant swirl of color. Harry thought that it rather looked similar to the colors from large soap bubbles, only more vibrant. Dumbledore uncapped it and held it out to Harry, his eyes twinkling. "Your deaging potion."

Harry reached out and took it, but decided that he should learn more about it before he just gulped it down. "Sir? May I ask how long it will last?"

"It should last until you take the antidote, Harry."

"Which will be?"

Dumbledore gave an irritating smile. "When you get back to the school." As if warding off Harry's annoyance, he continued, "This particular potion, once swallowed will transform your physical body into its six year old self. It will start to react immediately and usually lasts years before a person reverts to their older age. Don't be alarmed, I have the antidote here in my office for you to take when you arrive back at Hogwarts, at the end of the summer. If by chance you need it before then and are unable to find me or it, Hogwarts' potions master can always whip up a batch for you."

Yeah right, as if Snape would do anything for him now. "And I'll be able to think and use my magic like a regular fifteen year old, if I need to? Well, as regular as me."

"Yes of course, Harry. You will just need to cope with a smaller body. Now drink that up and I'll get a change of clothes for you."

Harry hadn't thought about that. He supposed that once he shrunk into a six year old's size he wouldn't fit his clothes anymore. They would rival anything as ill-fitting as he had worn as a child. He hoped that Dumbledore had some children's clothes that were less crazy than the old man's robes.

As Dumbledore half disappeared into another cupboard, Harry took a deep breath to prepare himself to swallow down the potion as quickly as possible. In his experience, most potions tasted worse than decomposing sludge. As the first drops of potion touched his tongue, he was pleasantly surprised.

It tasted wonderful, of sunshine, grass, swing sets and excitement. It was a rushed feeling of the few happy childhood memories he possessed when he had been able to escape his repulsive relatives, and truly been free. He could have eagerly drunk a gallon. He could feel the tingle as it traveled down to his stomach. The moment it reached it, he started to change.

It felt odd, sort of like falling from a low height on a broom. The room seemed as if it was growing, yet he could see his arms shortening into his sleeves. Dizzy, he shut his eyes.

When he opened them, it was to see the world in a different way. Everything looked brighter, more colorful and bigger. The clothes had he had been wearing were still draped on his form, almost comically. His trouser legs pooled at his feet, and his shirt hung to his knees. Harry was surprised to realize that his spectacles hung off one ear, and that everything had looked so clear without them. He folded the spectacles in one small hand. He had an odd urge to explore the office and all the strange contraptions in it, but he ignored it and concentrated on his memories, just to make sure that everything was still there. He still remembered his name, that he was supposed to be a fifteen year old Wizard, and the Boy Who Lived. Other memories took more concentration to recall; like that Remus was resting in the Hospital Wing, how Dumbledore had flown away on Fawks from Umbridge last year and how to do the Patronus spell. It was a little fuzzy, but definitely there. Reassured, Harry finally gave into his curiosity and studied the items on Dumbledore's desk.

Just as he tried to reach out to inspect an odd clock on the desk, the Headmaster came bustling over. He was carrying a pile of clothes, which he thrust into Harry's arms.

"Here you go, my boy! Now just head over to this room over here and get changed." Dumbledore strode over to a small door nearby and held it open, beaming at him.

Harry shuffled over.

"There's a mirror and a small trampoline in there, should you wish to become more acquainted with your small size."

As Harry disappeared through the door, the old Wizard called out to him, "Take your time. I'll just be out here."