Harry rolled over silencing the blaring alarm clock. The boy rubbed the remaining sleep from his emerald eyes before slipping on his round spectacles. He took another moment before getting up and making the bed. It was a habit that he hadn't shaken since leaving the Dursleys permanently over two years ago. He stumbled into the en suite bathroom and completed his morning routine. Mrs. Longbottom expected you to be completely prepared for the day once you stepped outside your door.

Harry arrived in the large dining room some twenty minutes later. His hair still messy (not that it would ever lie flat) and slightly damp from his shower. He made himself a plate from the selection on the sideboard. The Longbottom's house elves (of which there were three) were good cooks, not as good as Mrs. Weasley, or the ones at Hogwarts, but still tasty.

"Morning," Harry looked up from morning's paper and greeted as Neville entered ten minutes later.

Neville nodded as he poured himself a strong cup of tea. "Gran will be down soon. She's coming with us to the Ministry."

"Why?" Harry asked setting aside the article on the attack on a Muggle bridge by trolls and Death Eaters.

"She knows a few people I think she wants to speak with," Neville said with a shrug. "Which are we sitting today?"

"We've got the written for Charms this morning and the Divination practical after lunch," Harry answered.

"Maybe Hermione was the smart one to take them if everyone else," Neville mumbled.

"You'll be fine, Neville. We've had loads extra time, with Hermione's torturing, there's no way we can fail. Look how you did with that Strengthening Solution yesterday. Snape couldn't have given you less than an "E" on it." Harry encouraged his friend.

Harry had always known one of his friend's biggest problems was not a lack of talent, but rather, self-confidence. After living with Neville and his gran for a few weeks, he understood how Neville came to be that way. Mrs. Longbottom loved her grandson but she constantly compared him to his father. Now, after the Department of Mysteries, she was starting to realize how talented Neville really was. Harry wondered from time to time what his friend had told her about their adventures over the last five years.

Neville protested, "It wasn't that good."

"It was. He might have had something to say, but that's just Snape." Harry chuckled.

"I don't understand you two. He's always so mean in class. Then when you talk about him, he's a different person." Neville said finishing his tea.

"He was the first person to tell me I was a wizard. He's looked out for me every day since my eleventh birthday." Harry shrugged, "I guess I can take a few rough words here and there for that."

Neville shook his head. He would never understand them. He had accepted that truth during their first year at Hogwarts.

"Good morning," Mrs. Longbottom greeted the pair.

"Morning Gran," "Good morning, Mrs. Longbottom." They replied together.

"Are you prepared for your exams this morning?" She asked.

Harry nodded. "We've got the Charms written this morning."

"Charms is a soft option, Neville. Transfiguration is a much better line of magic." Mrs. Longbottom advised.

"Yes Gran," Neville agreed.

"What is this afternoon?" She asked.

"Practical Divination," Neville replied.

Mrs. Longbottom made a noise of disapproval. "Are we ready to leave?"

"Yes ma'am," Harry said slipping his wand into the back pocket of his jeans.

"Your wand safety is horrible Potter," Mrs. Longbottom chastised.

Harry snickered. Moody had lectured him for the same thing the previous summer at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

"Mad-Eye Moody told me I'd hex a buttock off doing it," Harry informed her.

"Alastor is smarter than he looks," Mrs. Longbottom agreed.

"Your trousers don't have a wand sheath?" Neville asked.

"They're Muggle, so no. Your trousers have a special place to put your wand?" Harry asked. How had he never noticed that about wizard clothes all these years?

Neville stood displaying the small loop that lay just under the belt line.

"Is this the last of your exams?" Mrs. Longbottom drew them back on topic.

Harry nodded, "Finally free, just in time for our birthdays."

The two boys were to celebrate their sixteenth birthdays together as they were born a day apart. Mrs. Longbottom had invited a number of her old friends, many of whom wanted to meet The-Boy-Who-Lived. Harry was allowed to invite his friends. Remus and the Weasley were supposed to attend, as was Luna. Hermione and Viktor were coming too. Hermione would be staying for a week at the Longbottom house.

The three Flooed to the Ministry of Magic. What Mrs. Longbottom did for the morning he did not know. She was there when they finished and was curious to hear how the boys thought they did. Harry didn't tell her how he remembered the charm to make things fly was "Wingardium Leviosa" that Neville used it in first year to knock out to a full grown mountain troll with its own club. Nor did he tell her about the Summoning Charm used to get past a dragon.

After a spot of lunch, the boys had their final exam. Neither felt particularly confident exiting the exam. Harry would not be sad to say goodbye to the subject of Divination. The topic had already played a big enough role in his life so far.

The boys were rushed upstairs to change for dinner as soon as they got back to the house. The first of the guests (mostly Neville's family) would be arriving that evening for dinner. Harry had never met any of those coming, but he had heard tale of most. Harry wasn't sure where he fit into this gathering.

At the Dursleys, he always he hid in his room. Although, on that last trip Aunt Marge wanted to keep an eye on him and insisted he stay close by. That hadn't worked out so well for either of them. Worse for Aunt Marge, Harry got to spend the rest of the holiday at Professor Snape's house. That was probably the best summer Harry ever had. The Longbottoms were nothing like the Dursleys. They wouldn't expect him to hide away unseen, pretending he didn't exist, of that Harry was certain. As long they didn't say anything too out of line, there wouldn't be a repeat of the Aunt Marge situation either.

Harry came back downstairs twenty minutes later dressed in a button up and trousers. It wasn't as nice as Mrs. Longbottom may have hoped for but it was nicer than the faded, too short jeans he had been wearing. He would have to get some new clothes when they went to Diagon Alley. He didn't think the Pure Blood witch would want to veer into Muggle London. Maybe he could get an Order member to take him. Tonks was half-Muggle Born and there was no way she got all of those band shirts in Diagon Alley. He would have to ask her tomorrow at the party.

"There you are," Mrs. Longbottom said spotting Harry on the stairs. "Come meet my brother Algiee."

Harry was introduced to Mrs. Longbottom's brother and his wife Enid. After that a few more family members he didn't remember the name of now. One name that did stick was Bathilda Bagshot, the author of, "A History of Magic" the text he had used in Professor Binns' class for the last five years. The old witch seemed to perk up his name. She started to ramble on about his parents, Dumbledore, and Godric's Hollow. Harry didn't get a chance to ask her what she meant by all that before Algiee took her away to calm down.

Harry was pulled into more conversations with people he didn't know talking about things he didn't understand. It wasn't until he got a chance to ask someone about Bathilda. Enid suggested he forget about it. The witch had once been one of the greatest historians of her time. Recently though, she had lost her spark. No one could blame her, not at her age. Augusta, Mrs. Longbottom, always invited her since they had been friends for so long since Augusta was a young woman. Though she was always invited, they thought this might have been the first time the witch left her Godric's Hollow home in several years, possibly a decade.

Harry started looking for an escape after about an hour. He was tired from the exams. He wanted to be rested for the party tomorrow.

"I know that look. James used to get it whenever he got caught up in a conversation with the Minister of Magic," Remus teased.

"Remus," said excitedly hugging the werewolf.

"A happy birthday Harry," Remus said, a worn smile on his features. "You didn't think I would miss your party, did you?"

"You said you were going on an assignment for Dumbledore," Harry protested.

Remus sighed, "Yes, I am. I am taking a few days away to talk to the headmaster, see you."

"Is anyone going to think that's funny? Suspicious, I mean." Harry asked concernedly.

"No," Remus reassured. "Members will be gone for days or weeks at a time."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, "Good. What are you doing?"

"I can't tell you very much. Mostly I am trying to gain the trust of some of my fellow werewolves." Remus explained, at Harry's confused expression he continued. "Many of the others do not trust me as I show the signs of having tried to blend into regular wizarding society."

"They don't like that? What else were you supposed to do?" Harry asked.

"There is a leader, a werewolf by the name of Greyback that thinks werewolves should reject society and make our own. Why should we blend in with those that rejected us?" Remus answered.

"People want to do that?"

Remus nodded slowly, "A few. It is hard to argue with some of his points. Many of my fellow wolves were driven out of their homes when their condition was discovered, some even as children. They were forced to make their own way. They never had a chance have a childhood, to attend Hogwarts, to have people who cared for them, did not shun them for their condition."

"That's awful," Harry said sadly.

"It is," Remus agreed. "What is worse, is that many of those following Greyback do not realize how much of a monster he truly is. Greyback is the werewolf that bit me when I was a small child. He attacked me because my father said something that upset him. I was not the only child he turned into a wolf either. Children are a bit of a specialty of his. He purposely stations himself near where there are children with the goal of attacking as many as possible."

Harry sat there dumbstruck. He had heard of very few things more evil than this particular werewolf.

Remus forced a smile on his face, "That is enough sad news about me. Tell me how your OWLs went."

Harry groaned. He spent the next hour discussing Harry's exams in detail. Harry felt fairly confident on Charms, Transfiguration, and Herbology. He was less certain about Potions, it was one of his weaker subjects, even with how much time he spent chopping and slicing things for Professor Snape. Remus laughed, apparently Lily had said something almost identical in their fifth year. She had gone on to receive an "O" one of only two that year, Snape being the second. Remus remembered his own time sitting for the tests. He had been the only one of the Marauders to take then seriously as James and Sirius were naturally gifted at taking tests.

Harry excused himself after that as he fought falling asleep on the couch. He would see Remus again in the morning before he had his meeting with the headmaster. Unfortunately, he would be unable to attend the actual party.

Harry remembered his idea about Tonks taking him into Muggle London before the school started as they were saying goodnight. The werewolf shifted uncomfortably at the mention of the witch. Harry wondered what was wrong, the two had seemed to get on rather well at headquarters.

When Harry arrived downstairs the next morning there were already half a dozen people at the table. Luckily, most were tucked away behind various newspapers or journals. Harry wasn't awake enough for small talk. He ate his breakfast quickly hoping to avoid the talk so he could be ready when the first guests arrived. Most weren't supposed to becoming until at least lunch, but Harry did want a lot of people staring at his scar.

The chiming that filled the room let him know the first person had come through the fireplace. Harry rushed out leaving his breakfast half eaten.

"Hermione," Harry said pulling her into a hug.

"Harry, Happy Birthday! It's so good to see you!" Hermione said hugging him tightly.

"You too." He released her.

"Wow," Hermione said looking around the rather grand room.

"I know," Harry mumbled. "I never imagined Neville living like this. Malfoy is always going on about his house is. I can only imagine what it's like if it's bigger than this."

"Harry, the Malfoys live in a proper manner. This would be tiny for him." Hermione explained.

Harry shrugged.

Hermione stepped closer to one of the large portraits on the wall. "I agree, I always imagined Neville in a sort of row house or something. He never really talked about it."

The subject of the portrait looked like he wanted to say something about it but never got the chance, as Remus entered the room, pulling Harry and Hermione away. The trio was joined by Neville a short time later. The four spent much of the remainder of the morning hiding in the library so Mrs. Longbottom could finish the party decorations.

Hermione told them about her week long visit with Viktor was in the country for the next several weeks for matches with his club team. She was still waiting for her results for her OWLs. It was starting to feel like she was never going to receive them. All three of them reassured her she did fine. There was no doubt in their minds the witch would be able to pursue any topic she desired to the NEWT level.

"I am sorry, I will have to say goodbye for now," Remus apologized as the clock on the mantle struck eleven.

"Do you have to go?" Harry pleaded.

"Yes, the Headmaster is waiting for me," Remus apologized.

"Neville, a very happy birthday," Remus said turning to the older boy.

"Thank you, Remus," Neville standing to shake the man's hand.

"Hermione."

"Bye Remus," she said giving the man a hug.

Remus stuck his hands in the pockets of a worn denim jacket.

"Harry, care to walk me out?"

Harry followed him out in silence.

"I would have felt bad doing this in front of Neville," Remus said softly. "I wasn't able to do much in terms of present shopping. I found this in Sirius' things when we were leaving headquarters. He meant to give it to you, that I know. I am not sure if he failed to put it in with the rest of your Christmas presents, when you returned to school after the holidays, or now."

Harry took the small brown paper-wrapped parcel. "Should I open it now?"

"Go ahead," Remus encouraged, "I don't know what it is either."
Harry pulled away from the flap of Spell-o-tape. He exposed the reflexive surface of a small mirror. There was a note too, but he didn't need it with Remus standing there with him.

"I remember these. They allow you to communicate with the person holding its partner. James and Sirius used to use them to talk when in separate parts of the castle. That normally meant they were in different detentions." Remus elaborated.

Harry smiled sadly at the bit of glass. "Where's the other half?"

"I don't know. I hope Sirius didn't have it with him when he left for Azkaban that night..." Remus stopped. "I'm sorry, Harry. I miss him as well. I will see if I can find the match at headquarters."

"You're going back to Grimmauld Place?" Harry asked. As far as he knew, no one had been there since they left in January.

"Dumbledore wants to make sure all the Order things are probably secured in case Death Eaters do try and break in at some point," Remus explained.

Harry nodded slowly. "I told him he could go back to using as headquarters if he wanted when he came and told me about Sirius' will."

"I know," Remus said softly. "He also told me you wanted me to have Sirius' gold."

"I don't need it," Harry said with a shrug. "I have more than enough already."

"And you've had to provide for yourself more than any normal child should. It's yours. I really do need to go. I'll let you know if I find it," Remus promised.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled. "At least you won't have to see Kreacher this time. He's in the kitchens at Hogwarts."

The werewolf wished him happy birthday once more before stepping in the hearth and calling for Hogwarts. The guests began to arrive in earnest at the strike of noon. The Weasleys were the first, all of those currently living in Britain. That meant Harry got to see Bill for the first time since the Quidditch World Cup. He had also brought along his fiancee, Fleur Delacour. The pair planned to many the next summer. Harry was happy for them.

A young woman came through the fireplace, it wasn't until Harry received a morose, "Wotcher" that Harry realized it was Tonks. He had never seen the witch in such a state of appearance.

"Hi, Tonks. How are you?" Harry asked.

"Fine," but her tone betrayed her.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked.

"It's nothing, just a lot of long hours. Lots of days doing double shifts after those attacks on Muggles." She said pushing a clump of limp brown hair from her eyes.

"Sorry to hear that," Harry sympathized.

The Auror shrugged.

"Nymphadora, I thought I heard your voice," Mrs. Longbottom greeted.

Harry didn't miss Tonks' cringe at her given name. "Hi Mrs. L," she replied.

"I am so glad to have you with us. I must say I rather approve of this new look, none of those horrid neon colors." The elderly witch observed as she walked with Tonks to the back garden where the rest of the guests were gathered. Harry followed little ways behind.

The garden was filled with Neville's relatives, classmates, and a few members of the Order of the Phoenix. It took Harry a while to get back to Tonks. People kept wanting to say hello and wish him a happy birthday.

"Tonks, do you think you could take me shopping in Muggle London before the start of term?" Harry finally asked.

"I don't think I'll have the time Harry," Tonks said over lunch.

"Could another order member maybe?" He suggested.

"We're all very busy Harry," came Tonks' terse response.

"I understand," Harry sighed.

The party wound down with presents and cake. Harry's gifts were a mixture of Muggle and wizarding. Neville's were all wizarding, many dealing with his best and favorite subject, Herbology. As much as he liked the party he was glad when all the guests were gone and it was only he, the two Longbottoms, and Hermione.

~~~*****~~~*****~~~

"Good evening sir," Harry greeted the headmaster. His eyes lingered on the long black fingers of his right hand.
Dumbledore pulled his sleeve down to cover the damaged fingers. "Thank you for agreeing to accompany me on this errand. I'm afraid it would not be very successful without your assistance.

"It's no problem sir," Harry moving his eyes away from the now covered hand. "Sir, what happened to your hand?"

"It's a tale for another day, my boy. We will Apparate to our destination. I believe you have done it before." Dumbledore inquired.

"Yes," Harry agreed, less than thrilled. He did not enjoy the sensation of being squeezed through a straw.

"Very good, if you will take my arm, above the elbow if you please," Dumbledore said offering the damaged limb.

"Shouldn't I tell Mrs. Longbottom were leaving?" Harry asked.

"Augusta is aware of the plans. We will be back in a matter of hours," Dumbledore reassured.

Harry nodded and took hold of the old man's upper arm. The stuffy sitting room was replaced by the cool night air. Harry thought he could smell the sea. It was helping to ease his upset stomach. He braced his hands on his knees in case he was sick. He wished he had one of Professor Snape's Calming Draughts.

"Where are we?" He asked.

"Cornwall, we are here to see an old colleague," Dumbledore explained. The man took off down a narrow lane. "This way, my boy."

Harry jogged to keep up with the ancient wizard. The man was surprisingly quick for his age.

"Where are we going?" Harry asked.

"The house, my boy."

"Why didn't we just Apparate directly there?" Harry asked.

"There are most likely a number of wards around the house. Even if there were not, it is considered very rude to Apparate directly into another wizard's property without their express permission," Dumbledore explained.

"Right," Harry agreed.

The two turned down the street. The headmaster stopped outside of the third house on the left. The door was off the hinges. One of the windows was broken.

"Oh no," Harry breathed taking in the site.

Dumbledore proceeded into the house keen to see the extent of the damage. Harry followed the man as he promised he would. The interior of the house was in an even worse state, chairs, tables, and lamps were smashed. Blood covered the far wall.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Harry mumbled. "Do you think Kingsley will be able to find who did this?"

"No, I don't think we'll need him. The perpetrator is still here." Dumbledore tutted.

"Really?" Asked Harry looking around the destroyed surroundings.

Dumbledore nodded, poking a puffy armchair sharply with the end of his wand.

"Ow," the chair complained.

"Hello Horace," Dumbledore greeted the chair, now wizard standing in front of him.

"How did you know it was me?" Horace asked. The man was short, nearly as wide as he was tall. He had little hair on the top his head, only a few on the sides. He made up for this an impressive walrus mustache.

"A rather good job, but you forgot the Dark Mark," Dumbledore answered.

"Damn, I knew I was forgetting something. Not bad for only a two-minute warning," Horace said proudly.

"Indeed," agreed Dumbledore.

"The answer is no," Horace complained rubbing his stomach, obviously still sore from Dumbledore's jab.

"Horace, I've come all this way. Should you not at least hear me out?" Dumbledore asked.

"Fine," Horace agreed sitting in the most comfortable looking of the chairs.

Dumbledore motioned for Harry to sit. He complied joining Dumbledore on the settee.

"I would like you to come back to your old position. You need not take one the duty of Head of House as it is currently filled." Dumbledore requested.

"I'm too old for this nonsense, Albus," Horace complained.

"You're younger than me. The safety of Hogwarts is far more comfortable than being on the run. How many times do you move a month? Three?" Dumbledore asked.

"At least," Horace agreed. "I won't have anything to due with any of that Order balderdash."

"I wouldn't dream to ask you," Dumbledore reassured. "Now, if I may, may I use your loo?"

"Second door on the left," Horace said motioning down the hall.
Dumbledore excused himself. Harry sat awkwardly looking around the room.

"Who are you?" Horace asked.

"Harry," the boy said, his eyes returning to the man, "Harry Potter."

Horace's eyes took on a predatory twinkle. Harry felt rather like a zebra in the eye of a hungry lion.

"Of course, you look just like your father," Horace observed.

"Except my eyes, yeah, I know," Harry agreed. "I've got my mum's eyes."

"Lily was one of my favorite students of all l of all time," Horace stated. "I know as a professor we're not supposed to say that sort of thing. I had a little club, those who were destined to become something great. For example, Hestia Jones, captain of the Holyhead Harpies, she used to get me free tickets whenever I liked. The editor of the Daily Prophet, still owls me on occasion. I don't know if you knew Sirius Black, he was a friend of your father at school. He has killed a few months ago. He never had much interest, oh how I wished he had. Perhaps it was for the best, all that time Azkaban, wasting away. Still, I would have liked the set."

Harry bit his tongue fighting back the words that threatened to spill out uncontrolled. Of course, Sirius wanted nothing to do with this self-congratulating ass.

Horace did not notice Harry's distress as he continued talking, "I only managed to get Regulus of the Blacks. Yes, Lily was a member of my little club, the Slug Club."

"You're Professor Slughorn?" Harry demanded, his grief temporarily displaced with astonishment. This wasn't at all who he expected from the stories.

"Am I still know at the school after all this time? That's an impressive feat if I do say so myself." Slughorn said pompously.

"Errr..." Harry hesitated. He wasn't too sure how he felt about this man. He wasn't sure how he would respond to the truth. He chose to favor the truth. "Not really. I've heard your name a few times in stories about my mum and dad's time at Hogwarts."

"Stories hmmm...." Slughorn hummed, "and who was telling them? You must be careful on who you let tell your history."

"Friends of my mum and dad, mostly Professor Snape," Harry admitted.

"Severus Snape," Slughorn scoffed. "He was such a disappointment. Then again, what can you expect from a half-blood like that?"

Disgusted, Harry spat, "What's that supposed to mean? Blood status doesn't matter. My best friend is Muggle-born and she's the best in our year, the whole school even."

"What's he done with his talent, became a professor. Severus had such great potential, it was thrown away getting caught up in all that nonsense to which he could never truly belong. And for what?"

"My apologies," Dumbledore said re-entering the room. "Oh, I do enjoy Muggle knitting patterns. Have you come to a decision, Horace?"

"I'll bloody do it, but I have conditions," Slughorn confirmed.

"Only naturally," Dumbledore agreed.

"I want twice the salary of my last year, no patrolling the corridors at night," Harry lost track of the demands after that as Slughorn ticked them off on his short sausage like fingers.
Dumbledore seemed to agree at least to most of them, as he ended the conversation with, "Then we will see you on September first. Would you like some help putting this place back together before I return Harry to his guardian?"

Slughorn nodded, "May as well."

"What blood did you use?" Dumbledore asked as he moved to collected blood into a new materialized flask.

"Dragon," Slughorn said righting the destroyed piano.

"I thought as much given the viscosity," Dumbledore observed.

"It was my last vail too. It's going for six galleons a pint now," Slughorn complained looking at the newly recollected blood. "Damn, too dusty to use again."

The room was back to perfect condition in moments. Harry was amazed at how little effort it took for such talented wizards to fix such a mess.

Harry and the headmaster said goodbye a few moments later.
"What did you think of Professor Slughorn, Harry?" Dumbledore asked as they walked back to their original Apparition point.

Harry shrugged, "He makes Lockhart look modest going on about all those people he knows." Dumbledore chuckled heartily at the comparison. "Is he like You-Know-Who and believes that everybody should be Purebloods?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore shook his head, "No, Horace is not prejudiced in such a manner. He is more concerned with how those around him may be of service to him. He collects these threads like a spider weaving a web. Harry, I am going to ask you something that you might not enjoy."

"I'll do anything," Harry confirmed.

"My dear boy, I'm sorry. I must ask you to let Slughorn collect you. He has some knowledge that will be key to our victory." Dumbledore explained.

"Oh," Harry mumbled, surprised, "whatever you need."

"Thank you, Harry," Dumbledore said, almost relieved.

"Sir," Harry asked. "If I remember right, Sirius said Professor
Slughorn was the Potions professor. If Slughorn is coming back to his old job, where is Professor Snape going? Is he on a mission like Remus or Hagrid?"

"No, Harry, he's not on a mission," Dumbledore told him.

"Then why do we need a new Potions Master? Wait...." Harry paused, "he's going to teach Defense?" He didn't wait for the headmaster to confirm it, he knew he was right. "He's going to love that. It'll be nice to have a competent teacher in the topic again."

~~~*****~~~*****~~~

"Snape's teaching Defense?" Neville moaned.

"Yeah, sorry Neville," Harry told him and Hermione about his meeting the previous evening.

"I wonder why he chose to let him have the position this year,"

Hermione said thoughtfully. "He's never let him before."

"Maybe he ran out of teachers. Hagrid said he was having problems years back, remember? That's how we ended up with Lockhart." Harry pointed out.

"Yes," Hermione agreed, "but still..."

"You can't think the position is cursed, Hermione, not you," Neville said in disbelief.

"I never said I did," Hermione confirmed. "However, you must admit the trend is rather disturbing. I asked Professor McGonagall about it once. She can't remember the last time they had a Defense professor last more than a year. You have to go back to when she first started teaching almost fifty years ago. I looked it up in the library."

"Of course you did," Harry mumbled. "What you think Snape is going to leave at the end of the year?" Harry shook his head,

"No, he wouldn't. It's too much like his home."

"Are you sure that's not just your feelings, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Hermione, trust me. Snape would never voluntarily leave the school." Harry insists.

"He never seemed to like teaching much," Neville countered.

Harry shrugged, "I just know okay. Snape would only leave if Dumbledore told him to."

"Harry," Hermione whined.

"It doesn't matter, let's just see what the year brings," Harry said, effectively killing the topic. "When did your gran say we were going to Diagon Alley?" Harry asked.

"We can't go until we have our OWL results. We have to know our marks are good enough for the topics we want," Neville replied.

"I got my results last week," Hermione informed them.

"All "O's" of course," Harry surmised.

"No," Hermione said clearly disappointed.

"What!" The boys shouted together. They had never known their friend not to get top marks.

"What subject didn't you get an "O" in?" Neville managed to ask, his shock subsiding.

"Defense," Hermione admitted, softly.

"Really," Harry asked surprised.

"Yes," Hermione confirmed, "I think I could have done better with my explanation of the differences between werewolves and true wolves. I spent too much time on the identifications."

"It's still really good, Hermione," Neville reassured. "I don't think I'll have gotten an "O" on anything."

"Other than Herbology you mean," Harry corrected. "You're the best one in the year in that. Professor Sprout's practically made you her apprentice."

Neville's face turned very pink at the compliment. "Thanks, Harry."

"Only telling the truth," Harry said with a grin. "Do you think your gran will let us stop by Fred and George's shop when we go?"

"I hope so," Neville agreed.

Hermione shook her head in disapproval. "Tell me you don't want any of damn Skiving Snack Boxes."

"No," Neville confirmed, "it's just Ginny is helping them a few nights a week." His blush now crept even higher up his face, all the way to the top of his head.

"Really?" Harry asked. "I thought Mrs. Weasley wouldn't let Ginny or Ron out of her sight with all that's going on."

"She's not," Neville clarified. "She goes with Ron and Ginny, Percy sometimes too. She makes sure they all have a proper meal and their apartment isn't a total disaster."

Harry chuckled, "That sounds more like Mrs. Weasley." All of them laughed themselves breathless.

"Harry," Hermione asked settling back into the sofa.

"What?" Harry asked rubbing his sore ribs. It had been a long time since he'd had a laugh like that, before Sirius and Mr. Weasley died probably.

"What do you want to do after we leave Hogwarts?"

Harry tensed he hadn't told them about what Professor Dumbledore had told them about the prophecy. He didn't want them to worry. They didn't need to know that he would have to become a killer, not right now.

"Harry? Are you okay?" Neville frowned at him.
Harry shook his head, "I'm fine. I promise." He added with the unchanged looks of concern he was still receiving. "Didn't I tell you about my career advising session with McGonagall and Umbridge?"

"No," the two others said together.

"Why was Umbridge there?" Neville asked.

"She wasn't at yours?" He received matching shaking heads.
Harry shrugged, "Maybe it was part of being High Inquisitor, or her observations of Professor McGonagall. I told McGonagall I wanted to be an Auror. Umbridge said that it would never happen as long as Fudge was Minister. McGonagall said she would make sure I became an Auror if it was the last thing she ever did."

"That was nice of her," Neville said.

Harry nodded.

"Is that what you really want to do?" Hermione asked.
There was a note of doubt in her voice. She could tell there was something that Harry wasn't telling him. He hoped she wouldn't push him, not right now.

Harry shrugged, "I think so. I don't know what else I could do."
That wasn't good enough for his friend as she said. "There are so many things you're good at, Harry. You're the youngest Seeker in a century. You have excellent marks in Potions, Herbology, Charms, Transfiguration. You shouldn't just settle for what you think people expect of you."

"I'm not settling, Hermione." Harry insisted, "I don't even know if I'll make it through the war. Maybe I should worry about it then."

"You're not leaving school?" Hermione demanded. From the outrage in her voice, you'd think he destroyed a brand new Firebolt or something.

"Of course not," Harry dismissed. "It's just... it's sort of hard to think about the future with everything going on."

"I understand," Neville agreed.

"What do you want to do after Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"I'd love to teach Herbology some day," Neville said a blush creeping up his neck.

"You'd be wonderful," Hermione said, leaning forward to pat Neville's knee.

"You think?"

"Of course," Hermione reassured.

"What do you want to do Hermione?" Neville asked.

"I'd like to do something worthwhile." Hermione paused, "Maybe I could take ELF further. I could join the Ministry and make them see how we treat creatures is wrong. We shouldn't treat them like dirt just because we believe our species is superior."

"That's a great goal," Harry agreed.

Hermione smiled. "Thank you, Harry."

~~~*****~~~*****~~~

Harry was starting to get worried. It was a week before the start of term and they still didn't have their OWL results. Mrs. Longbottom didn't want to have to make two trips to Diagon Alley this summer so she refused to go until they knew what subjects the boys might be able to pursue to NEWT level.

"Didn't Dumbledore tell you something about it when you went to talk to Slughorn?" Neville asked over his morning tea.

Harry shook his head. "I didn't think to ask."

A house elf, Harry didn't know its name held a silver tray. Two parchment envelopes sat in the center, one addressed to Neville, the other to Harry.

"That's them?" Neville asked.

Harry nodded. Neither boy moved to take their mail.

"What's this," Mrs. Longbottom asked bustling into the room.

"Our OWLs came, Gran," Neville explained.

"Then open them you silly boys," she encouraged.

Neville took his first, picking it up with shaking fingers. Harry followed suit, nearly dropping it on the floor. Harry stared at the purple wax seal, the course of his future lay inside.

"That's dramatic enough," Hermione said grabbing the letter from Harry's hand. She opened it with her breakfast knife and glanced over them quickly.

"About what you expected," she said handing them back.

Harry looked down the list.

Astronomy: E
Care of Magical Creatures: E
Charms: E
Defense Against the Dark Arts: O
Divination: P
History of Magic: P
Herbology: E
Potions: E
Transfiguration: E

It was over before it began, he wouldn't be able to become an Auror after all. He hadn't gotten high enough marks in Potions.

"What's wrong?" Neville asked looking up from his own results.

"I can't take Potions. You need an "O". I only managed an "E"," Harry explained.

"Are you sure?" Neville asked.

"That's what McGonagall told me last term during career advice," Harry replied.

"Maybe the new teacher will have different standards," Hermione offered.

Harry shrugged. "Maybe I'll just try and play Quidditch."

"Harry," Hermione sighed.

"Hermione's right, maybe Slughorn will take NEWT students with an "E". Didn't you say he only came back because of you? I'm sure he would make an exception for you to teach Harry Potter." Neville argued.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled casting another disappointed look down the short line of letters. "How did you do Neville?"

"Okay," he said with a small shrug, offering the paper to Harry. Harry handed his over in return.

Neville got the expected "O" in Herbology. He also got E's in Charms, Defense, Care of Magical Creatures. He got an Acceptable in Potions, Transfiguration, and Astronomy (much to Harry's surprise). What didn't surprise Harry was Neville's failure to pass History of Magic or Divination.

"I'll talk to Dumbledore about coordinating an escort service for you to go to Diagon Alley. If you two boys did not require new robes I would send for everything owl order." Mrs. Longbottom informed them.

"Mrs. Longbottom, do you think you could ask him about me making a trip to the Muggle world as well?" Harry asked.

"I will see what can be arranged," she replied.

"What do you want in Muggle London?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing special, just normal clothes, everything I have is too short or tight," said Harry.

"No wonder, you've grown about a foot," Hermione said with a laugh. "Neville's gran's idea isn't a bad one if Dumbledore says no."

"Owl orders? Muggles don't use owls for post," Neville said clearly confused.

"They don't," Hermione confirmed, "but they use the regular post. You could always have things sent to my parents and have them send it on."

Harry considered, "If Dumbledore says no."

It turned out they would need Hermione's parents to mail on Harry's catalog selected wardrobe. The Order was stretched thin and the headmaster did not trust the Ministry despite a new Minister of Magic being named. The new head of the wizard government was a former Auror named Rufus Scrimgeour. The pictures of him in the Daily Prophet reminded Harry of a lion.
The headmaster was only able to arrange an escort to Diagon Alley two days before they were due to board the train back to Hogwarts. Harry was relieved that the escort didn't turn out to be a team of half a dozen Aurors. Instead, it was Hagrid and Bill Weasley. He was with his mother and youngest siblings who also needed their Hogwarts supplies. Harry, Neville, and Hermione went with Hagrid to get new robes while the Weasleys went to the bookstore.

There they ran into Draco Malfoy and his mother. Harry noticed something strange about Draco's behavior. The boy had pulled away from his arm when Madame Malkin tried to shorten the sleeve, that would have exposed the inside of his wrist.

Later, when they went to the twins' store Harry saw Draco again, this time without his mother. The boy slipped down the entrance to Knockturn Alley. The trio slipped under the Invisibility Cloak and followed Draco. They found him in Borgin and Burkes. Harry slipped out a set of Extendable Ears under the door. They could hear Malfoy threatening the shopkeeper, showing him something on his arm and mentioning Grayback coming to check on him. Hermione's attempt to find out what Malfoy was trying to buy failed miserably.

Harry was convinced Malfoy had taken the Dark Mark. That was why he didn't want Madame Malkin to see his wrist and what he showed to Borgin. Neville and Hermione had a hard time believing Harry's theory. Why would Voldemort mark Draco, an underaged wizard?

~~~*****~~~*****~~~

On September first Harry and Neville were escorted to the train at King's Cross by Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt. There seemed to be fewer families on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Harry loaded his trunk into a compartment with Neville. Luna found them a short time later adding her trunks to the boys'.

Just after the train pulled away from the station Colin Creevey delivered a tied scroll to Harry's compartment. Slughorn had invited him to lunch. Harry wasn't sure what to expect, but Neville and Luna encouraged him to go. The lunch was a bunch of people who were related to successful witches or wizards. When one boy mentioned he didn't know his famous uncle, Slughorn ignored him the rest of lunch. What Harry found interesting was Draco wasn't invited.

Instead of heading back to his compartment after lunch Harry under his Invisibility Cloak followed the only Slytherin, Blaise Zabini to his compartment. Harry managed to sneak into the luggage rack and listen to the conversations of those in there. Malfoy didn't seem that insulted not being included. He didn't care about a professor, it didn't sound like he was certain he would finish the school year.

The problem really came when the train arrived in Hogsmeade. Harry couldn't get away. Draco waited until the others left before putting Harry in complete Body-Bind, kicked him in the face when he fell from the luggage compartment. The Slytherin left Harry lying on the floor of the train, bleeding. Harry was lucky that Tonks found him on the floor before the train returns to London.

The Auror walked Harry to the gates of the castle in a heavy silence. She had to send a Patronus to summon a professor to come and get Harry. It was not Hagrid that she asked for, but Professor Snape that came down to the gates to meet them.
"The new Patronus looks weak," Snape said snidely. Shutting the gates in the young woman's face before turning on his heel and walking back toward the castle.

Harry fell silently in step with the surly Potions Master.

"Ten points for being out of uniform, another ten for tardiness, and a week's detention," Snape said as they walked.

"Yes sir," Harry mumbled.

"Would you care to explain your delayed arrival?" Snape asked.
Harry shrugged.

"I will have none of that Potter. Use your words." Snape rebuked.

"Draco, he's up to something." Harry managed.

"Damn it, Harry! Why must you always insist on inserting yourself into everything?" Snape snapped.

"He's planning something. He has the Dark Mark!" Harry insisted.

"What Malfoy is doing is none of your concern, Potter," Snape replied. "You need to think your actions through for once. Today it was a broken nose. Tomorrow it could be your life!"

"He's working for Voldemort!" Harry all but yelled.

"Don't say that name!" Snape yelled. "The name is Tabooed. If you were to say that name anywhere but Hogwarts the Dark Lord and his followers would be here in an instant."

Harry did not know how to respond to that. The two walked in silence the rest of the way to the castle. They arrived in time to hear the deafening silence that was the rest of the school's reaction that Snape would not be Potions Master, but Defense the Dark Arts instructor.

“It’s definitely a sign of how this year is going to go,” Harry muttered to himself.