In the Mind of a Scientist

By: ZenoNoKyuubi

Fandom: harry potter

Summary: Harry Potter wasn't raised like in canon. He was top of his class, and very intelligent, always seeking to improve things, and so he learned all kinds of things, and, upon entering Hogwarts, started studying all he could get his hands on! Intelligent!Super!Harry Later Mad Scientist!Harry Rated M for Language, Nudity, and Gore Stein-ish Harry Genres: Humor/Romance/slight Horror

Status: Completed

Fic type: Books/Harry Potter

Pairings/Main char.: Harry P., N. Tonks

Published: 2012-09-23

Last updated: 2013-05-04

Words count: 82,520

Chapters count: 17

Converted using www.FF2EBOOK.com
Date: 2020-08-31

1. Chapter 1

Hi, all! ZenoNoKyuubi here with an all new story! Now, the updates to this story will be a bit slow, as I'm still writing it. However, due to some... problems... in Heir of Dracula, I have decided to post it as I finish each chapter, instead of finishing the story, then posting it. So, please leave a review and tell me what you think!

This is an Intelligent!Harry fic, and with that follows Super!Harry!

–

Harry Potter's room, in Number Four, Privet Drive, was a mess. The whole room was littered with books, parchments, quills, and ink wells. There were long pieces of parchment depicting diagrams and complex calculations that the average Hogwarts student wouldn't even have a clue what they meant.

Harry Potter knew, on the other hand.

Said thirteen-year old boy stood in the very center of his room. Behind him, on his desk, a piece of parchment had been flattened out, and standing upright, perfectly still, upon it was a poisonous green quill. Also on the desk was a microscope, an alchemy station, and several phials and vials filled with strange liquids.

"The question: How do post owls know their destinations?" Harry spoke suddenly, and the quill started scribbling on the parchment. "Hypothesis: Their inherent magic allows their instincts to guide them. Test subject number one, designation Hedwig, has proven to be most helpful in proving this hypothesis."

In the corner of the room stood a bird cage, in which sat an owl that had its feathers ruffled, hooting indignantly at Harry, who ignored her.

"The time is..." Harry checked his watch, starting to pace around the room. "...three minutes past one o'clock. Given the owl's top speed and the distance to my friend and colleague Hermione Granger's house, it should take three hours and thirty-two minutes to fly there, another two to wait for the response, and another three hours and thirty-two minutes to fly back. All together, it amounts to seven hours and six minutes, exactly the time it took for Hedwig, which means she wasn't confused for even a second as to the direction she needed to fly..."

"BOY, STOP TALKING TO YOURSELF UP THERE!" came the voice of Uncle Vernon, making Harry stop his pacing.

"Side-note, a change of location would be prudent. Perhaps Hermione has room in her house?"

"AND I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANYMORE EXPLOSIONS UP THERE!"

"Side-note to the side-note, develop a sedative for Uncle Vernon... whale dosage..."

The quill put a line under what it had written, and then fell to the desk, unmoving. Harry walked over to the desk and looked over the parchment, picking up the quill and looking over his research notes. Then, he picked up the letter Hermione had delivered.

Dear Harry,

Thank you for the letter. A bit strange, asking me to write back as fast as I could when there was no immediate danger, though... However, I answered anyway. Hedwig looked a bit angry, why was that? Anyway, I'm fine, thanks. Have you decided what classes you are going to take this year? I am going to take them all. I don't want to miss anything.

We are going to France in one week. Hopefully, I'll see you in Diagon Alley when I get back.

Take care,

Hermione

Harry immediately took out a fresh piece of parchment and started writing.

"'Dear Hermione,'" he spoke out loud, a tendency he had picked up after speaking out loud to his self-writing quill. "'I hope you will have fun in France.' Yes, I really should write that... 'Me, I'll probably be stuck here the whole summer. I will try to get to Diagon Alley and set up shop in the Leaky Cauldron, though.' Hm... 'Let me know when you arrive at Diagon Alley, and we'll meet up.' Uh..." Harry scratched his head with the quill, leaving black lines in his scalp. "'I'm taking Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes. Have fun in France.' Maybe... Oh, I already wrote that. 'Love,' no..." He scratched it out. "'Signed, Harry.' There."

He moved over to Hedwig's cage, rolling up the parchment. As soon as he reached in, Hedwig hopped away from him.

"Oh, don't be such a baby," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not going to poke you with my wand anymore."

Tentatively, Hedwig stared at Harry, then slowly moved over, sticking out her leg and letting Harry tie the letter to her leg.

"Take this to Hermione," he told Hedwig, who hooted and flew off. He watched her go with a hum, rubbing his chin. "Maybe I should buy some mice or rats..."

–

"Journal, August Seventh," Harry spoke in his recently set up 'lab' in the Leaky Cauldron. On the desk, the quill was scribbling furiously into a black book. "Set up shop in the Leaky Cauldron. The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, mentioned in Journal Five, page eighty-eight, greeted me when I arrived, chastising me for leaving my relatives' house. He also asked me that for the remainder of my summer holidays, I don't go wandering in Muggle London, for reasons as of yet unknown. Hm... Curious..."

Harry stopped his pacing and looked out the window overlooking the crowded Diagon Alley.

"Purchased mice from the local store. Told the owner that I wanted to feed them to my pet snake. Have tested my new anesthetics on them. Let us see how it goes."

He moved over to the corner of the room, where three cages were seen, labeled 1 through 3. In each cage was a little white mouse. None of them were moving.

"Subjects have been given dosages corresponding with their size. They have been under for three hours now. By my calculations, they should be waking up in another hour. I shall check again later."

–

"Journal, August Thirty-first," Harry spoke as he held a syringe in his hand. "I have administered the new artificial adrenaline to designations Mickey, Minnie, and Charles. According to my calculations, the adrenaline should take effect... now."

The mice in the cages, which had gotten their names written down under their numbers, suddenly started running around in their cages, jumping and squeaking. They seemed to have no control over their actions, and just ran to get rid of the excess energy in their bodies.

"Take note, artificial adrenaline number five is a huge success."

A knock came upon Harry's door, and Harry looked toward the quill, taking out his wand and giving it a wave as he put down the syringe. The quill quivered, then fell down.

"HARRY!"

As soon as Harry had opened the door, he had been assaulted by a bushy-haired missile, which brought him in for a bone-crushing hug.

"Good day, Hermione," Harry spoke humorously as Hermione let go of him, smiling brightly. She was very tanned, compared to how she had looked last year. France had been good to her, he noticed.

"How are you?" Hermione asked happily. "I asked Tom which room you were in, and he told me."

"How good of him to do that," Harry said, and noticed how Hermione's eyes drifted to the cages with the mice.

"Harry... What are you doing with those mice?"

"Oh, Hermione, this is Mickey, Minnie, and Charles. I am trying out an artificial adrenaline on them. It's working wonders, I must say."

"You're experimenting on small animals?" Hermione asked, her eyes widening in shock. "Harry, that's cruel!"

"It is not, Hermione. They're just animals. Besides, they're cheaper and easier to deal with than humans," Harry said simply with a shrug.

"Then why not use Hedwig?" Hermione asked, gesturing for the owl by the window, who hooted indignantly.

"Because, Hermione, that would be cruel."

"She's an animal!"

"No, she is my friend," Harry said simply. "I don't experiment on friends." Hermione stared at him, and he shrugged. "Alright, I don't experiment on my animal friends."

"I still think it's barbaric..." Hermione muttered. Harry smiled.

"I still have some of it left. Want me to try it out on you instead?"

Hermione jumped as Harry picked up the syringe, smiling at her. She cleared her throat and looked to the mice.

"So, how are the mice reacting?" she asked nervously. Harry grinned. Self-preservation instincts were so amusing in humans.

"As expected, I estimated the dosage perfectly," Harry said, walking over to Hermione's side. "They should be coming down right about... now."

As expected, Harry's estimation was spot on, as the two watched the mice slowly calm down, until they lay panting in their cages.

"Harry, is this all- Ow!" Hermione yelled out as she looked down, to see that Harry had just stuck the syringe into her arm, injecting her with the rest of the urine-yellow liquid. Her eyes widened. "Harry, you- AAAAH!" she suddenly screamed loudly as she took off running out of the room at a speed Harry hadn't thought her capable of. He waved his wand, and the quill stood up again.

"Take note, three CC's of artificial adrenaline number three is too much for a thirteen-year-old girl to function properly." The quill scribbled it all down, and then fell to the desk again, while Harry chuckled. "Took off like a monkey from a box."

With that, he jogged out of the room.

And so, ten minutes later found Harry outside the Magical Menagerie, with a panting Hermione who looked like she had just run a marathon, which she basically had, running around Diagon Alley, unable to stop.

"That was not funny, Harry..." Hermione muttered, clutching a stitch in her side.

"It wasn't for fun. It was for science," Harry said simply. "Let's just go in, shall we?"

Hermione sniffed angrily and made her way inside, followed by Harry.

There wasn't much room inside. Every inch of wall was hidden by cages. It was smelly and very noisy because the occupants of these cages were all squeaking, squawking, jabbering, or hissing. The witch behind the counter was already advising a wizard on the care of double-ended newts, so Harry and Hermione waited, examining the cages.

A pair of enormous purple toads sat gulping wetly and feasting on dead blowflies. A gigantic tortoise with a jewel-encrusted shell was glittering near the window. Poisonous orange snails were oozing slowly up the side of their glass tank, and a fat white rabbit kept changing into a silk top hat and back again with a loud popping noise. Then there were cats of every color, a noisy cage of ravens, a basket of funny custard-colored furballs that were humming loudly, and on the counter, a vast cage of sleek black rats that were playing some sort of skipping game using their long, bald tails.

"Ah, the boy with the mice," the witch said once the double-ended newt wizard left, eying him suspiciously. "Haven't seen you in here for any more mice... Are you sure you wanted them to feed your snake?"

"Never mind that," Harry said, waving the witch off. "My friend Hermione here wants to buy a pet."

A large, orange cat landed on the counter as Hermione stepped up to it. Its fur was thick and fluffy, but it was definitely a bit bowlegged and its face looked grumpy and oddly squashed, as though it had run headlong into a brick wall. The cat purred softly as it looked at Hermione, who reached out her hand to pet it.

"This is Crookshanks," the witch behind the counter said. "He's been in here for ages. No one wants him, it seems."

"He's gorgeous," Hermione said with a bright smile as she petted the cat, who purred contentedly at her signs of affection.

"You... You want him?" the witch asked in surprise, and Hermione nodded.

"Yes, I'll take him. I had wanted an owl, but I simply cannot, in good conscience, leave this handsome fellow here," Hermione cooed, and Harry, now staring into the rat cage, made a disgusted noise, shaking his head.

"I suppose he'll be good for... Hm..."

"What was that?" Hermione asked, shooting Harry a look.

"I said, I suppose he'll be good for trying out a couple of sedatives," Harry said, only to freeze at the look Hermione gave him. It was so scary that Harry momentarily considered never doing animal testing again, but only for a second.

–

"'Journal, September First,'" Harry spoke as he sat in the Hogwarts Express, in a compartment with only two other people, Hermione and a sleeping pile of rags apparently named R. J. Lupin. "'Packed up my things, and am now heading for Hogwarts to set up shop there. Have not yet made use of the room inside my trunk, will set up my lab inside it when I get to the school.'"

"Why do you speak out loud when you're writing?" Hermione wanted to know as Harry scribbled in his journal. "I mean, I understand when you're not holding the quill, but when you're writing yourself..."

"It's just a habit I've picked up," Harry said with a shrug. "It's easier to focus for me when I speak the words out loud."

During his stay in Diagon Alley, Harry had made several important purchases. He had bought a whole new alchemy station, ingredients, and his most important purchase. He had bought a trunk, a very special trunk. It had seven locks that went to seven different compartments. One of those compartments had a ladder that went down to a very large room, where Harry had decided to set up a portable laboratory. He hadn't done so yet, however.

"'Will report more after the feast,'" Harry said as he wrote it down, humming to himself. It felt like he had forgotten to write something down, but he just couldn't figure out what it was.

During his first two years at Hogwarts, Harry had been very curious regarding all aspects of magic. He was a man of science, and had always been, and therefore sought explanations, scientific explanations, for everything. That was why he had spent most his time at Hogwarts in the library, or in the common room reading through the books he had purchased, reading up on the theory of magic. He had also taken an interest in alchemy, magical engineering, arithmancy, the works. He was a very smart boy. His teacher back in Muggle school had found him so impressive that she gave him an IQ test, which showed that his IQ was one hundred and sixty-eight.

Therefore, Harry was a bit of a prodigy at Hogwarts. He aced his classes, and spent his free time doing self-studies, owning several books on alchemy and magical engineering, along with several Muggle subjects such as chemistry, biology, etcetera.

That was why, once Harry pocketed his journal, he immediately dug into his trunk, the third compartment to be exact, and took out his book on Advanced Chemistry, digging his nose into it as the train rolled steadily on, toward Hogwarts.

"So, how was France?" Harry asked without looking up from his book.

As Hermione went into a long-winded, and very detailed, retelling of her holiday to France, Harry read up on the morphine section of the chemistry book. He was very interested in how to make it, and would make sure to order in the ingredients for it. Most of them would have been hard to get his hands on, but he was a wizard, and had access to wizard traders. So it would be much easier to get a hold of some of these things...

"...and then we came home, and I was amazed to see how tanned I had gotten. My- Ow!" Hermione looked down to see that Harry had once more stuck a syringe in her arm, and pumped some kind of substance into her body. "Harry!" she hissed angrily. "You can't just... just..." Her eyelids started growing heavy, and her eyes soon closed. She suddenly slumped, fast asleep, and Harry grinned, taking out his journal.

"'Note, human testing of sedative number four, designation AS-4: Anxiolytic Sedative-Four, was a huge success. Test subject should be waking up in about an hour.'"

The train moved steadily onward as it started to rain, and Harry once more buried his face in Advanced Chemistry. It wasn't until an hour later that Hermione slowly woke up, looking a bit groggy.

"What...? Where is...?" she blinked awake, and then glared at Harry. "Harry! Tell me you didn't just test one of your sedatives on me!"

"Okay, I didn't test one of my sedatives on you," Harry lied easily, not looking up from his book, only for Hermione to smack him on the arm.

"Without lying!"

"Now that's going to be hard."

Harry took out his journal and started writing again.

"'After waking, patient shows intense and nearly unrestrained anger. I will be forced to readminister sedative to calm her down. Possible side-effects of multiple doses, unknown. Will test more later.'"

"Oh no, you're not testing anything else on me!" Hermione said heatedly. "You're going to kill me one of these days, is that what you want?"

"Don't be such a baby," Harry said, filling the syringe up with two CC's of AS-4. "This isn't enough to knock you out. It will merely calm you down."

"I don't need to calm down! I have plenty of reason to be mad at you, Harry! Stop waving that thing around!"

"Then sit still," Harry said, taking aim with the syringe. "I don't want to accidentally stick this in your eye. Oh, hello, Ginny."

Hermione looked toward the door, only to immediately look back at Harry upon seeing no one there, just in time for Harry to stick the syringe in her arm again.

"Harry! Don't just..." Hermione panted slightly, and slowly, a smile appeared on her face. A giggle, something that was as far from Hermione's normal behavior as one could get, escaped her. That giggle turned into a quiet laugh as she pointed at Harry, who started writing in his journal again.

"'Low doses of AS-4, henceforth dubbed...'" Harry scratched his head with his quill. "'...Laughing Liquid, for reasons soon to be revealed, appears to cause a relaxed nature and sense of euphoria in the patient, causing them to lose control of their ability to not laugh. These effects are similar to nitrous oxide (N2O), commonly known as 'Laughing Gas,' and are no doubt abated the same way, with a glass of water. These results are most intriguing, considering the sedative is not a nitrous oxide mixture in any form. More studies will have to be performed before a complete analysis can be conducted.'"

"You sound funny when you write in your journal, did you know that?" Hermione giggled out happily, and Harry smiled.

"I'm glad to see that you're not mad at me anymore."

"Oh, I could never stay mad at you, Harry, you know that," Hermione said, hugging a pleasantly surprised Harry.

The rain thickened as the train sped yet farther north. The windows were now a solid, shimmering gray, which gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, the wind roared, Hermione laughed, but Professor Lupin still slept on.

Harry, who had changed into his Hogwarts robes, looked at his watch, humming. They should be arriving soon.

He had no sooner thought it, before the train started to slow down. Harry narrowed his eyes at his watch.

"We shouldn't be there just yet. We're twenty minutes early," he said to Hermione, whose laughing fit had passed, and she was now leaning against the wall, a peaceful smile on her face as she kept her eyes closed. She hummed happily, Harry's words probably not registering with her.

The train came to a stop with a jolt, and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness.

"That can't be good," Harry mused as he tried to look around.

"Am... Am I blind?" Hermione asked, still a bit out of it. "My eyes are open, but I can't see."

"Nice to see you're coming down. And the lights are out is all," Harry explained.

The compartment door suddenly opened and someone fell painfully over Harry's legs.

"Sorry... d'you know what's going on? Ouch... sorry..."

"Hello, Neville," Harry said pleasantly, feeling around in the dark and pulling Neville up by his cloak.

"Harry? Is that you? What's happening?"

"No idea. Sit down."

"I'm... I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on," came Hermione's voice. She sounded much better now. Harry felt her pass him, heard the door slide open again, and then a thud and two squeals of pain.

"Who's that?"

"Who's that?"

"Ginny?"

"Hermione?"

"What are you doing?"

"I was looking for Ron..."

"Well, he's not in here, but come in and sit down," Hermione said, and Harry felt Ginny walk over to stand in front of him.

"Not here!" he said hurriedly. "I'm here!"

"Ouch!" Neville said.

"Quiet!" a hoarse voice said suddenly.

Professor Lupin appeared to have woken up at last. Harry could hear movements in his corner. None of them spoke.

There was a soft, crackling noise, and a shivering light filled the compartment. Professor Lupin appeared to be holding a handful of flames. They illuminated his tired, gray face, but his eyes looked alert and wary.

"Stay where you are," he said in the same hoarse voice, and he got slowly to his feet with his handful of fire held out in front of him.

But the door slid slowly open before Lupin could reach it.

Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Lupin's hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. Harry's eyes darted downward, and what he saw made his stomach contract. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, grayish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water...

But it was visible only for a split second. As thought the creature beneath the cloak sensed Harry's gaze, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of its black cloak.

And then the thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings.

An intense cold swept over them all. Harry felt his own breath catch in his chest. The cold went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest, it was inside his very heart...

Harry's eyes rolled up into his head. He couldn't see. He was drowning in cold. There was a rushing in his ears as though in water. He was being dragged downward, the roaring growing louder...

And then, from far away, he heard screaming, terrible, terrified, pleading screams. He wanted to help whoever it was, he tried to move his arms, but couldn't... a thick white fog was swirling around him, inside him...

"Harry! Harry! Are you alright?"

Someone was slapping his face.

"W-What?"

Harry opened his eyes. There were lanterns above him, and the floor was shaking... the Hogwarts Express was moving again and the lights had come back on. He seemed to have slid out of his seat onto the floor. Hermione was kneeling next to him, and above him he could see Neville and Professor Lupin watching. Harry felt very sick. When he put up his hand to push his glasses back on, he felt cold sweat on his face.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked as she helped him back into his seat.

"I'm... I'm fine..." Harry muttered, looking toward the door. The creature had vanished. "What happened? Who screamed?"

"No one screamed, Harry," Hermione said, shaking her head.

Harry looked around the bright compartment. Ginny and Neville looked back at him, both very pale.

"But I heard screaming-"

A loud snap made them all jump. Professor Lupin was breaking an enormous slab of chocolate into pieces.

"Here," he said to Harry, handing him a particularly large piece. "Eat it. It'll help."

Harry took the chocolate, but didn't eat it.

"What was that?"

"A dementor," Lupin said, now giving chocolate to everyone else. "One of the dementors of Azkaban."

Everyone stared at him. Lupin crumpled up the empty chocolate wrapper and put it in his pocket.

"Eat," he repeated. "It'll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me..."

Harry wiped his forehead as Lupin strolled past him and disappeared into the corridor.

"Are you sure you're okay, Harry?" Hermione asked, watching Harry anxiously.

"What happened?" Harry asked, still wiping his face.

"Well, that thing... the dementor... stood there and looked around (I mean, I think it did, I couldn't see its face)... and you... you... you sort of fell out of your seat and started twitching. And Professor Lupin stepped over you, and walked toward the dementor, and pulled out his wand," Hermione said, "and he said, 'None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go.' But the dementor didn't move, so Lupin muttered something, and a silvery thing shot out of his wand at it, and it turned around and sort of glided away..."

"It was horrible," Neville said in a higher voice than usual. "Did you feel how cold it got when it came in?"

Ginny, who was huddled in her corner looking nearly as bad as Harry felt, gave a small sob. Hermione went over and put a comforting arm around her.

"Well," Harry said, taking a bite of his chocolate and finding, to his surprise, how warmth spread suddenly to the tips of his fingers and toes, "we gotta fucking stop that from happening again..."

"Harry, language," Hermione scolded, but Harry just scoffed and ate the rest of his chocolate, before reaching into his robes and taking out a syringe with compound AS-2, one of his milder sedatives, and sticking it into his own arm, injecting himself with the sedative and closing his eyes.

They didn't talk much during the rest of the journey, and at long last the train stopped at Hogsmeade station, and there was a great scramble to get outside. It was freezing on the tiny platform, and rain was driving down in icy sheets.

Harry and Hermione followed the rest of the school along the platform and out onto a rough mud track, where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited the remaining students, each pulled, Harry could only assume, by an invisible horse, because when they climbed inside and shut the door, the coach set off all by itself, bumping and swaying in procession.

"I'm fine," Harry said suddenly as Harry and Hermione sat alone in a coach that smelled faintly of mold and straw. Hermione had been looking at him sideways for a while now, as though frightened that he might collapse again.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked anxiously, and Harry chuckled.

"Would you like a sedative as well?" he asked, patting his chest where he had his box of syringes.

At last, the carriage swayed to a halt, and Harry and Hermione got out.

The two of them joined the crowd swarming up the steps, through the giant oak front doors, into the cavernous entrance hall, which was lit with flaming torches, and housed a magnificent marble staircase that led to the upper floors.

The door into the Great Hall stood open at the right. Harry followed the crowd toward it, but had barely glimpsed the enchanted ceiling, which was black and cloudy tonight, when a voice called, "Potter! Granger! I want to see you both!"

Harry and Hermione turned around, surprised. Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher and Head of Gryffindor House, was calling over the heads of the crowd. She was a stern-looking witch who wore her hair in a tight bun. Her sharp eyes were framed with square spectacles. Harry fought his way over to her, curious as to why she could possibly want to talk to him...

"There's no need to look so worried," she told Hermione as the duo reached her. "I just want a word in my office."

Professor McGonagall ushered Harry and Hermione away from the chattering crowd. They accompanied her across the entrance hall, up the marble staircase, and along a corridor.

Once they were in her office, a small room with a large, welcoming fire, Professor McGonagall motioned Harry and Hermione to sit down. She settled herself behind her desk and said abruptly, "Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead to say that you were taken ill on the train, Potter."

"Yes, I was, but-" Harry was interrupted by a soft knock on the door, and Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, came bustling in.

"Oh, it's you, is it?" Madam Pomfrey said, bending down to stare closely at him. "I suppose you've been doing something dangerous again?"

"I'm fine," Harry said. "Honestly, I-"

"It was a dementor, Poppy," Professor McGonagall said.

They exchanged a dark look, and Madam Pomfrey clucked disapprovingly.

"Setting dementors around a school," she muttered, pushing back Harry's hair and feeling his forehead. "He won't be the last who collapses. He-"

"Pulse is normal, blood-pressure, normal," Harry interrupted. "I am fine. I already got some chocolate from Professor Lupin, and I've already taken a sedative."

"Oho, did you now? And what kind of sedative was that?" Madam Pomfrey asked, raising an eyebrow as she peered into Harry's eyes.

"My own design. I've been working on it all summer," Harry said simply. "And judging by my heart rate, my blood pressure, and my general lack of anxiety, I'd say it's working wonders."

"You took an untested sedative, Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked in shock, but Harry just scoffed.

"Of course I've tested it, and the mice I've tested it on are fine, I am fine, so what's the fuss?"

"Well, I have to say, he seems... fine," Madam Pomfrey said, almost sounding disappointed to hear a student be right about saying that he was fine.

"Are you sure you feel alright, Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked sharply.

"Yes," Harry said.

"Very well. Kindly wait outside while I have a quick word with Miss Granger about her course schedule, then we can go down to the feast together."

–

Well, there you have it, the first chapter! I tried not to lean too heavily on canon, but it was hard not to do so for the first chapter. I promise you that I won't be copying much from canon in future chapters!

2. Chapter 2

Hi, all! ZenoNoKyuubi here with a fresh chapter straight out of my head! Please enjoy!

–

Journal, September 2nd, 1993,

Set up my lab in my trunk the very first thing I did when I woke up. It is greater than I could have ever dreamed of. A personal space where no one can bother me should I so wish it. All I have to do is disappear into my trunk and lock it, and I'll be alone for as long as I wish.

Designations Mickey, Minnie, and Charles seem to have enjoyed the change in location, as they no longer have to endure Hedwig's predatory gaze. I have wasted too many sedatives trying to calm them down because of Hedwig.

Tested smaller doses of AS-4 on the mice. Like designation Hermione, the test subjects experienced a sense of euphoria, from what could be seen of the behavior of the mice. It would, however, be prudent to test it on human subjects. I just need someone willing to try it on.

Started classes today. As expected, they were much too easy for someone of my intelligence. Something tells me I should be in seventh year, doing real magic, not playing around in third year. Arithmancy was the only class so far that has provided me with any real challenge.

–

Journal, September 5th, 1993,

I managed to get Hermione and Ginny to give me a strand of hair each today. This should be a good start to studying my hypothesis that there is no actual genetic variation in the sequence that controls access to 'magic' in pure-bloods, half-bloods, and Muggle-borns. If this hypothesis proves true, then not only is blood purism morally wrong, but scientifically as well. Though if the opposite is true, the moral implications are not something I dare to comprehend...

Study into wizard DNA is not progressing as quickly as I had hoped, as I do not have access to any advanced Muggle technology. All that I have access to is my microscope, and although it works as well as any other microscope, thanks to magic, I find myself lacking a computer for analysis and calculations. It feels so... stone-age to work everything out myself on a piece of parchment.

–

Journal, September 7th, 1993,

I have for the last few days putting pills of my own design into Hermione's pumpkin juice, in an effort to force diabetes. Now that I have your attention with that little lie, stop reading my journal, Hermione.

Ahem... DNA testing is going slowly, as predicted. I have yet to isolate the gene that allows the brain to unlock the amazing potential it has locked away. If there is such a gene. No, I mustn't think like that. Every mystery in this world has in the past proven to not be magic. There cannot be such a thing as magic. The gene exists, I just know it...

Tested out my fifth sedative today, designation SS-1: Soporific Sedative-One, a sedative that induces a deep sleep in cases of insomnia. Injected Mickey, Minnie, and Charles with artificial adrenaline, and then injected them with SS-1, which was a failure. Artificial adrenaline and SS-1 should not be mixed, as it induced heart failure in Mickey. It took a lot of work, but I managed to bring him back. Minnie and Charles ended up in a comatose state that they have yet to wake up from. I dare not inject them with any more adrenaline, as they may also suffer from heart failure...

–

Journal, September 9th, 1993,

Nothing new to report regarding Minnie and Charles. They remain comatose, and I have been forced to force-feed them food and water, to make sure they don't die. Mickey, on the other hand, has completely recovered from his heart failure, and is as spry and happy as ever.

Tested the new SS-2 on Mickey today, which worked wonders. A smaller dose of the formula 1,3-Dihydro-7-nitro-5-phenyl-2H-1,4- benzodiazepin-2-one, rather than 1,3-Dihydro-7-nitro-5-phenyl-2H-1,7- benzodiazepin-2-one worked wonders. It has come to my attention that the previous concoction was too strong.

Also worth noting, upon learning that Professor Lupin was a Half-blood, I stole a stray hair from his robes, intent on comparing his DNA with Hermione and Ginny's DNA. Now I have a sample of each. I will get to the bottom of this blood purity matter. I will find the magical gene, henceforth known as the M-gene.

–

Journal, September 10th, 1993,

This is... curious... Most curious indeed... I studied Professor Lupin's DNA, using a special charm on my microscope to magnify his hair thousands of times. I discovered an abnormality in his DNA strain. It's a mutated strain in his DNA helix, a strain I have never seen before. I must ask Professor Lupin if he has any disease that I have never heard of before. I think I recognize the mutated strain, but I cannot recall where I have seen it.

On another note, I also took a good look at Ginny's hair, and managed to find the M-gene. In Hermione's, it looked identical to Ginny's and I saw nothing different about them. It is merely a mutation, an evolution, of the DNA, which unlocks the brain's potential to do what people have labeled 'magic.'

–

Journal, September 11th, 1993,

I asked Professor Lupin about his disease, and he became very nervous all of a sudden. He denied having any such disease and asked me to go back to my next class. Perhaps it is a touchy subject with him? Then again, I have never really cared about things like that. Also, something has bothered me, why is his boggart the full moon? He couldn't be...? No... Could he? Must ask Hermione about this, I value her opinion, after all.

–

Journal, September 20th, 1993,

Did some true good today. Ronald Weasley's rat, Scabbers, has been looking poorly for a while now. Ron informed me that he has been like that since they came back from Egypt. I have to admit, the rat does look very woebegone. I offered my services to Ron, and gave Scabbers a sedative that worked wonders on him. After all, Scabbers has been truly frightened ever since the first time he met Crookshanks, who naturally attacked him.

A small dose of AS-5 worked wonders on the rat, who calmed down drastically after the injection, and unlike AS-4, he didn't feel that sense of euphoria. Perhaps it is time for human testing of AS-5? Hermione has been looking rather stressed lately, and it's only been nineteen days since we returned to school. Her course schedule is rather packed, so it is no wonder why she is stressed. She has several lessons at the same time, leading me to believe she has been cleared for usage of a time-turner, and that can be very stressful if used for a prolonged period of time.

–

Journal, September 23rd, 1993,

Human testing of AS-5 has proven a success. Hermione, once coming down from her sedated state, was very angry for not asking permission to try it on her, but who are we kidding? If I had asked permission, she never would have let me try it on her. It's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission, after all. I think that will be my secondary motto from now on.

Side-note, for the sake of protocol, my main motto is 'Science is neither good nor bad, it is only true.'

–

Journal, September 28th, 1993,

Restating my assumptions, magic is utilized via an abnormality in the human DNA, an evolution I have come to refer to as the M-gene. The M-gene can be found in pure-bloods, half-bloods, and Muggle-borns alike. There is no notable difference in any of these examples, and it is merely an evolution that appears for reasons unknown, in a human. As proven with those commonly referred to as Squibs, the M-gene isn't necessarily hereditary, but having parents with the M-gene certainly increases the chances of being born with it.

–

Journal, October 6th, 1993,

Anxiously awaiting the full moon. Soon, my hypothesis will either be proven true or false. Is Professor Lupin a werewolf? I shall be studying his DNA closely for when the full moon appears. It shall be interesting to see the effects the full moon has on Professor Lupin's hair...

Addition, the time is now 11:43 in the evening, and all I can say is, success! As I expected, the appearance of the full moon caused a chain of events in Professor Lupin's DNA. It forced a mutation in his DNA strain, taking on a different structure entirely! This is an amazing discovery! If Lycanthropy is, in fact, a genetic disease, that means a cure can be found! I'm sure of it! Here and now, I vow to find the cure for Lycanthropy!

–

Journal, October 7th, 1993,

After almost one month, Minnie and Charles have finally woken up. They seem to have suffered no damage from their coma, which is lucky, as I have only ordered one new mouse, and don't have enough time to bother ordering two more so soon after the first.

This mouse that I have ordered, designation Romulus, will be my test subject when it comes to the study of Lycanthropy.

–

Harry stood inside his private lab in his trunk, muttering to himself as he stood at his alchemy station, mixing up some brews. The wall was covered in scorch marks from when earlier brews had exploded on him. He didn't have a real idea on what he was making, he just had a tendency of doing things when he was thinking hard on something. To the side, Lupin's hair was still under his microscope.

Groaning, Harry set down the two test tubes in his hands and walked away from his alchemy station, walking over to his microscope and looking into it, turning the knobs on the sides to focus better on the hair. It had turned back to normal, as today wasn't a full moon, but Harry could still see that the DNA was in the process of reverting to its former self.

Harry waved his wand, and behind him on a table, his quill stood up on his open journal.

"Journal, October Eighth, Nineteen ninety-three..." he said, grabbing a syringe from next to the microscope, filled with a blood red liquid. "I have successfully isolated the Lycanthropy mutation, and have managed to bond it with designation Romulus's blood. Now, it is time to inject it into Romulus himself."

Harry walked over to an added fourth cage in one of the corners of the room, opening it and reaching into it to grab the white mouse inside. He grabbed the mouse and lifted him up, before lining up the syringe.

"Injecting Romulus with the werewolf DNA..." he said as he stuck the needle into the squeaking Romulus, pressing the plunger and pumping the blood back into Romulus, who squeaked. He pulled the syringe out and put Romulus back into the cage, before closing the hatch.

"Now, I just have to wait until the next full moon, which should take place on November the fifth. With luck, I should have successfully transferred the Lycanthropy mutation to designation Romulus. Though time will tell. I shall keep a close eye on Romulus, and make sure the mutation properly bonds with his body."

He waved his wand again, and the quill quivered, before falling down. A knock was heard from the lid of the trunk, and Harry made his way over to the ladder, climbing up it and opening the lid to find Hermione kneeling next to the trunk in the boys' dormitory in Gryffindor Tower.

"Harry, we're going to be late for classes," Hermione said, which made Harry's eyes widen.

"Oh yeah, it's Friday already," he said, climbing out of the trunk, before closing and locking it. "I completely missed that."

"Have you been in there all night?" Hermione asked, and Harry nodded.

"Yeah? What about it?"

"Are you ever going to tell me what you're working on?"

"Maybe, if I'm sure you won't go blabbing about it to a teacher."

"Is it that dangerous?" Hermione asked, and Harry's eye took on an almost mad glint.

"Hermione, I may be on the verge of something incredible, but if found out before I actually discover it, it would no doubt be frowned upon by the magical world. So no, it's not dangerous. It may, however, be considered unethical."

"I don't think I want to know anymore..." Hermione mumbled, looking nervously at Harry, who was rubbing his hands together happily.

"Speaking of nothing in particular," Harry said suddenly, grinning at Hermione. "Have you noticed how vindictive Snape has been lately?"

"Without a doubt, he's heard of Neville's boggart," Hermione agreed, nodding.

"Oh, it wasn't because I called Potions the silly little brother of Alchemy?" Harry asked, and Hermione sighed.

"No one cares enough that you said that to spread it around, Harry..."

"I see... I must try harder, then."

–

On October sixteenth, Harry joined the line outside the Transfiguration classroom with Hermione, when they found a disturbance at the front of the line.

Lavender Brown was crying, with Parvati Patil standing with an arm around her, explaining something to Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, who were looking very serious.

"What's the matter, Lavender?" Hermione asked anxiously as she and Harry went to join the group.

"She got a letter from home this morning," Parvati whispered. "It's her rabbit, Binky. He's been killed by a fox."

"Oh," Hermione said. "I'm sorry, Lavender."

"I should have known!" Lavender said tragically. "You know what day it is?"

"October sixteenth," Harry said immediately, for once keeping track of what day it was.

"Exactly! 'That thing you're dreading, it will happen on the sixteenth of October!' Remember? She was right, she was right!"

"Would anyone mind explaining to me what's going on?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"On the first class of Divination, Professor Trelawney told Lavender that the thing she was dreading was going to happen on the sixteenth of October," Parvati whispered, and Harry gave a long, drawn-out "Aah..."

Immediately, Harry reached into his robes and took out a syringe.

"You're hysterical, Lavender, would you like a sedative?"

"A... A what?" Lavender hiccuped, and Harry smiled in a friendly way.

"A sedative. It will calm you down."

"No!" Hermione said, getting between Harry and Lavender. "Harry, stop trying to test your concoctions on your Housemates!"

"This is no test!" Harry said indignantly. "This is AS-4, the very same sedative I have already tested on you."

"Without permission!"

"Don't be such a baby all the time, and let me give Lavender her sedative."

But Harry never got the chance to give Lavender her sedative, because at that moment the door opened, and Harry swiftly hid the syringe from view, putting on an innocent look.

At the end of the class, Professor McGonagall spoke up as the class made to leave, "One moment, please! As you're all in my House, you should hand Hogsmeade permission forms to me before Halloween. No form, no visiting the village, so don't forget!"

Neville put up his hand.

"Please, Professor, I... I think I've lost-"

"Your grandmother sent your to me directly, Longbottom," Professor McGonagall said. "She seemed to think it was sager. Well, that's all, you may leave."

Harry made his way over to Professor McGonagall's desk holding the permission form that he'd gotten Uncle Vernon to sign by promising to spend the last few weeks of the summer holidays away from Privet Drive.

"Ah, Potter," Professor McGonagall said as Harry handed over his permission form. She stared at it for a while, then looked at Harry again. "Potter, I would suggest that you consider staying in the school over the Hogsmeade weekend."

"Why, Professor?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Never mind that, Potter. Just consider it."

"Yes, Professor," Harry said, looking at Professor McGonagall strangely. Nonetheless, he gave her a bow of his head, then walked off to his next class, which was Arithmancy with Hermione, if he remembered correctly.

–

On Halloween morning, a Sunday, Harry was rudely awoken in his private lab by a very loud knocking. He was sitting at his desk, his quill in his hand, halfway through a sentence in his journal. Slowly, he put the quill down, then moved over to the ladder, climbing it and opening the lid of the trunk, to find Hermione once more kneeling by the trunk in the boys' dormitory.

"Good morning, Harry!" Hermione said happily. "Hogsmeade visit's today!"

"Great..." Harry muttered, rubbing his eyes. "I'll be out in a moment."

With that, Harry roughly closed the lid and locked it from the inside, climbing down the ladder again. He immediately got to changing his outfit. Whereas he would normally walk around in his robes, he now disposed of his robes, keeping only the shoes, slacks, shirt, and tie, and put on a long lab coat over it. It felt right to wear it. After all, he was a scientist.

Finishing his journal entry, Harry made his way up the ladder again, unlocking and opening the trunk, before climbing out. He closed the lid and locked it again, and then made his way down to the common room to join a giddy Hermione.

"Come on, there is so much we need to see!" she said excitedly as the duo made their way out of the Gryffindor common room.

They headed down to the entrance hall, where Filch, the caretaker, was standing inside the front doors, checking off names against a long list, peering suspiciously into every face, and making sure that no one was sneaking out who shouldn't be going.

"I don't see what we're going to do," Harry said, ignoring the chill he felt as they passed the dementors guarding the gates of Hogwarts. He stretched and yawned, and would much rather have been in his lab, mixing up a brew or something interesting like that.

"We can go take a look at the Shrieking Shack," Hermione said with a bright smile. "It's said to be the most haunted place in Britain."

"Fascinating..." Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"And then there's Honeydukes, the candy shop. I think you might like it in there," Hermione said, her smile fading a little when she saw Harry's deadpan look. "Er... There's also Tomes and Scrolls, a bookshop, and-"

Hermione didn't need to say anymore, as Harry had perked up, and hurried up down the long, winding path to Hogsmeade Village.

–

Harry was rather full on Honeydukes snacks, so he decided not to go to the Halloween feast, and instead brought his new books to the dormitories, where he stored them in one of the compartments in his trunk. He then headed down to his lab, to conduct a few more experiments before bedtime.

Mickey, Minnie, and Charles seemed to sense Harry's good mood, as they shivered in their cages in fear as Harry went to his alchemy station and started mixing up his brews, whistling happily to himself.

"Journal, October Thirty-first, Nineteen ninety-three," he spoke to his quill, which was standing up on his journal. "Alchemy is going as expected. Each day, I learn more and more, and each day, I get closer and closer to Nicolas Flamel. I am sure I will one day find the exact formula to create the Philosopher's Stone. But for now, I am only interested in the cure for Lycanthropy. Due to the lack of technology at my disposal, I have been forced to relying on alchemy to concoct a potion that should be able to bond the cure I am working on to the Lycanthropy mutation. However, time will tell."

Harry spent most of the evening in his lab, working on his alchemy, and didn't come out until two hours into the feast. He supposed he should go see Hermione, to show her that he was alright. She had looked a bit worried when he said he would skip the feast, after all.

Whistling to himself, Harry locked his trunk and headed down the steps to the common room, a slight skip in his step due to the great progress he was making in his lab, and pushed open the Fat Lady, climbing out of the portrait hole, only to come to a complete stop at what he saw.

Standing just outside, holding a knife raised in the air, was a man with filthy, matted hair that hung to his elbows, eyes that were deep in their sockets, and waxy skin stretched so tightly over the bones of his face, it looked like a skull.

Harry's whistle slowly died off as he stared into the eyes of the man, who stared right back at him. He glanced at the knife in the man's hand, and his own hand slowly slipped into his lab coat, grasping his wand.

The man looked down at Harry's hand, then glanced at his own knife, slowly lowering it. Harry's eyes widened in surprise, and he equally slowly brought his hand out of his coat, not holding his wand. They both let their hands fall limply to their sides.

"Harry?" the man croaked suddenly, making Harry raise an eyebrow.

"Mr. Black?" Harry asked cautiously.

Sirius Black suddenly looked like a man who had no idea what he was doing or why. He glanced around a bit uncertainly, looking over Harry's shoulder into the portrait hole, then looking over his own shoulder, as if contemplating whether to run.

"Harry, there's little time," Black said suddenly, deciding to talk to Harry, rather than doing whatever else he had been planning on doing. "You may hear some stuff about me, but I want you to know, none of it is true. You hear me, Harry? None of it is true, I swear to Merlin."

"What are you-" Harry started, but his mouth was suddenly covered by Black's hand, as the man perked up, listening intently. Listening himself, Harry heard the thundering of hundreds of feet, and the talk of the students coming back from the feast. Black looked a bit panicked, looking over Harry's shoulder again, before looking to Harry once more.

"If there's anything from your father in there, I can trust you not to tell this to any teachers. If you want the truth, meet me tomorrow by the Whomping Willow. Unlike the people in this castle, I will tell you the truth. Since you don't look like you want to kill me for what I've done, I can tell you haven't been told. I have to go. Please meet me tomorrow at midnight."

With that, Black let go of Harry, just in time for the students to reach the foot of the stairs. Screams were heard as the students saw Black, who threw a glance over his shoulder, before rushing off up the stairs.

"BLACK!" a girl shrieked. "SIRIUS BLACK IS IN THE CASTLE!"

Panic ensued as Harry stood there, feeling a bit confused. Why would he want to kill Black? What had Black done to him?

Within moments, Dumbledore came sweeping through the crowd, walking up the steps to Harry, who stood deep in thought.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, and Harry saw worry in his eyes.

"I'm... I'm fine..." Harry said, blinking.

"What happened?" Dumbledore asked calmly, but his eyes were sharp now. His very presence seemed to have calmed the students, who were quiet, some muttering to themselves.

"Sirius Black," Harry said. "He was here. He had a knife," he explained, blinking still. He still wasn't quite sure what had just happened. "He saw me, and I saw him. He lowered the knife, then the students came, and he ran off."

"So, he lowered the knife because the students came, and he ran away?" Dumbledore asked, but Harry shook his head.

"No, he lowered the knife first, and he looked like he wanted to talk to me," Harry lied. "Then the students came, and he ran away."

"I see." Dumbledore looked contemplative, then turned to the other students. "All Gryffindors, please move back to the Great Hall, and await the rest of the students. You too, Harry."

Harry nodded and joined the crowd, immediately spotting Hermione, who was making her way toward him. He started to whisper what had happened, but then he realized what would happen if he did. Hermione would go to Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall in a heartbeat. Therefore, he decided to tell her the lie he had told Dumbledore.

–

From that moment on, Harry had no privacy outside his lab. Teachers found excuses to walk along corridors with him, and Percy Weasley was tailing him everywhere like an extremely pompous guard dog. Professor McGonagall summoned Harry into her office, with such a somber expression on her face that Harry thought someone must have died.

"There's no point hiding it from you any longer, Potter," she said in a very serious voice. "I know this will come as a shock to you, but Sirius Black is without a doubt out to kill you." Harry opened his mouth, but Professor McGonagall beat him to it. "Now, don't you worry, we are all on high alert when it comes to Sirius Black. So long as you remain in the castle, I am certain that nothing will happen to you."

Harry opened his mouth to remind Professor McGonagall that he had been face-to-face with Black once already, but thought better of it, and closed his mouth. Instead, he settled for wearing a curious expression.

"But, Professor, why didn't he kill me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "He had several moments to do so, but when he saw me, he lowered the knife."

"Now, I admit that is curious behavior," Professor McGonagall admitted. "However, there can be no doubt that Black has been unhinged after Azkaban. Who knows what goes on in his mind?"

Slowly, Harry nodded.

"Will that be all, Professor?"

"That will be all, Potter," Professor McGonagall said. Harry gave another nod, then left her office.

That night, Harry took his Invisibility Cloak out of his trunk and put it on, before leaving the dormitory, sneaking down the stairs and leaving through the portrait hole.

He slowly crept through the castle, making sure not to be discovered by Filch or his cat, Mrs. Norris. He sneaked down the marble staircase to the oak front doors and found, to his surprise, that they were unlocked. Smiling triumphantly, he pulled them open quietly, then sneaked out of the castle, closing the doors behind him.

As he made it to the Whomping Willow, he found a large, black dog sitting on the lawn. The dog perked up when he approached, sniffing the air. Then, it jerked its head toward the Whomping Willow, rushing toward it. Then, just as the willow tree raised one of its limbs to hit the dog, the large black dog raised its paw and pressed a knot at the base of the trunk, and the tree went slack.

Harry watched in surprise as the dog suddenly changed. Where once had stood a scruffy, very large black dog now stood Sirius Black, who gestured for Harry to follow him, before disappearing down a hole by the roots of the tree.

Despite his common sense telling him not to follow, Harry's curiosity got the better of him, and he followed Black down the hole, down a long, dark tunnel.

"Lumos," he whispered after taking out his wand, which lit up. The wandlight lit up Black's back as the man made his way through the tunnel, Harry following.

On and on went the tunnel. Then, it began to rise. Moments later, it twisted, and Black had gone. Instead, Harry could see a patch of dim light through a small opening.

It was a room, a very disordered, dusty room. Paper was peeling from the walls, there were stains all over the floor, every piece of furniture was broken as though someone had smashed it, and the windows were all boarded up.

"Nox," Harry said as he straightened up, still holding his wand out. Before him stood Sirius Black, looking grimly at him. Harry tilted his head to the side, raising his wand and pointing it at Black. "I've been told you broke out of Azkaban to kill me."

"I suppose that would be the Ministry's theory," Black admitted, nodding. "However, they've got it all wrong. I'm not here to kill you. I'm here to commit a murder, yes, but not you. Never you, Harry."

"Who, then?"

"Peter Pettigrew."

Harry blinked.

"Again, who?"

Black sighed and said, "I suppose a bit of a history lesson is in order. What do you know of your father's school days?"

"Nothing," Harry admitted.

"Well, I was your dad's best friend back at school. Our other friends were Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew," Black explained. "Thirteen years ago, your parents found out that Voldemort was after them," he croaked, and Harry saw his eyes held a certain sadness to them. "They went into hiding, and Dumbledore cast the Fidelius Charm, a charm that involves the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is impossible to find, unless the Secret-Keeper divulges it."

"Why do I sense that this story doesn't have a happy ending?" Harry asked, already sensing what the answer was going to be.

"Because it doesn't. You see, we convinced everyone that I was the Secret-Keeper, as Voldemort would surely go after me. We made Peter Pettigrew the Secret-Keeper instead. We thought it was the perfect ruse... We never expected him to run off to Voldemort with the information..." Black muttered. "I as good as betrayed your parents when I made the choice of handing over the title of Secret-Keeper to Pettigrew. After Voldemort murdered your parents, I tracked Pettigrew down and cornered him. He yelled for the whole street to hear that I had betrayed Lily and James, then blew up the street, transformed, and sped into the sewers to join the other rats."

"I take it he's an Animagus like you?" Harry asked, and Black, no, Sirius, nodded. "But there are millions of rats. How did you know which one was Pettigrew? I mean, he's at the castle, right?"

Sirius put one of his clawlike hands inside his robes and took out a crumpled piece of paper, which he smoothed flat and held out to show Harry.

It was a photograph of the Weasley family that had appeared in the Daily Prophet that summer, and there, on Weasley's shoulder, was Scabbers.

"I recognized him at once," Sirius growled out. "I saw the rat's paw, saw that it was missing a finger, just like Peter did, because he cut his own finger off, leaving a shred of evidence behind when he faked his own death."

Harry stared hard at Sirius for a few moments. Sirius stared right back at him.

"Believe me... Believe me, Harry... I didn't betray Lily and James. I would have died before I betrayed them."

For reasons Harry couldn't explain, he believed Sirius. Slowly, he nodded, and a hint of a smile appeared on Sirius's face.

"I suppose all that remains is capturing Pettigrew, then?"

"It should be easy for you. You are probably the last person he expects would believe me," Sirius said, leading the way up a staircase into a dusty old bedroom, where Sirius sank down on the magnificent four-poster bed, appearing deep in thought. "Is there any way you can get an excuse to grab the rat?"

Harry grinned. "Oh, is there ever," he said excitedly.

–

Well, there you have it, the second chapter! Please leave a review and tell me what you think!

3. Chapter 3

Hi, all! ZenoNoKyuubi here with a fresh chapter straight out of my head! Please enjoy!

–

"Journal, November the Fifth, Nineteen ninety-three," Harry spoke, standing in his lab and checking his watch as he stood in front of Romulus's cage. Romulus had grown to the side of a rat, his eyes were bulging, and his incisors had grown longer, dripping with saliva. "The time is now thirteen minutes past eleven in the evening. The mutation, henceforth dubbed the L-strain, has successfully bonded with designation Romulus, and the mouse has transformed at the full moon as predicted. Now, the first cure, a special potion brewed with aconite, is loaded up in the syringe and ready to be administered."

Harry grabbed a syringe next to his microscope and moved over to the cage.

"This cure is dubbed Aconote, and hopefully, I shall see some results. This mixture attacks the L-strain and destroys it. Now, let us take a look at what happens..."

Harry waved his wand, and a small string appeared out of thin air, wrapping around Romulus's mouth. He flicked it, and Romulus floated out of the cage, which he had just opened, and came to a stop in front of him. Harry took a deep breath, then stuck the syringe into Romulus, pressing the plunger and injecting the mouse with the concoction. Then, he flicked his wand again, and the mouse slowly sank back into the cage, the string disappearing just as the cage was closed.

"The subject appears to be fine, for now," Harry said, watching as Romulus slowly shrank down to his normal size, as did his teeth. "His eyes are still bulging, so for now there is still some trace of the L-strain left in his body. He seems to... Oh dear..." Harry watched in disappointment as Romulus started writhing in his cage, squeaking loudly as he rolled around, his eyes bulging more and more. "The subject now appears to be experiencing extreme pain... He-" Harry was interrupted by a pop as Romulus's eyes exploded, and the mouse slumped, dead, to the floor of his cage.

Slowly, Harry reached up and took off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Take note, time is... nineteen minutes past eleven... The formula known as Aconote was a failure..."

Harry sighed and put on his glasses again, before waving his wand. In the blink of an eye, Romulus's corpse disappeared, and his cage was cleaned.

With another wave of Harry's wand, the quill fell to the desk again, unmoving, and the journal snapped shut.

The next day, Harry sighed once more in disappointment as he grabbed Romulus's cage and walked over to the ladder, climbing it and out of the trunk, locking it behind him.

"Hey, Ron!" Harry called as he reached the common room, the cage under his arm. Ronald Weasley was sitting in an armchair, playing wizard chess with Dean Thomas. "Mind if I borrow Scabbers for a while?"

Immediately, he got a suspicious look from Ron, who didn't trust him ever since he stuck a needle in Scabbers, even though it had calmed him down.

"Why?" Ron wanted to know, and Harry patted the cage.

"I just want to show him to someone. I promise you he won't get hurt in any way."

Ron was still looking at him suspiciously. Finally, however, he reached into his bag and took out the snoozing Scabbers, handing him to Harry, who immediately put him in the cage.

"I'll be back!" Harry said hurriedly, before rushing out of the common room, the cage under his arm, a great big grin on his face. He had him! He had him! Hopefully, Sirius had been telling the truth, or Harry would look very silly in a few moments.

Harry skidded to a stop in front of the gargoyle blocking the way to the staircase leading up to Dumbledore's office.

"Um... Ice mice?" Harry guessed, and to his surprise, the gargoyle came alive and hopped to the side, allowing him passage up the stairs. Harry grinned as he got on the spiraling staircase and steadily moved up toward Dumbledore's office. He knocked twice.

"Come in," came Dumbledore's voice, and Harry opened the door, stepping inside. Dumbledore say behind his desk, looking unusually grim, but when he saw Harry, he immediately brightened, looking delighted to see him. "Ah, Harry! Come in, come in, please. How are you, my boy?"

"I'm fine, sir, thanks," Harry said with a nod. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

"Harry, not that I do not enjoy an occasional visit from a student, but is there a reason why you brought a worse for wear rat into my office?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said, grinning as he held out the cage and walked over to Dumbledore's desk, setting the cage down on it. "Professor Dumbledore, meet Peter Pettigrew."

Dumbledore's eyes widened in surprise, his eyebrows shooting up. There was silence for a while. Then...

"Pardon?"

"Peter Pettigrew, sir," Harry said, grinning proudly. "I caught him. Well, asked for him, but I still caught him!"

"Harry, I do not know how you have heard of Peter Pettigrew, but he is dead."

"No, sir, he's an illegal Animagus who faked his death," Harry explained. "Sirius told me all about it."

"Sirius? As in Sirius Black? You have... met him?" Dumbledore asked, and Harry could tell that the man was not used to being surprised, as he sank into his chair, blinking slowly. "Harry, are you telling me that you have met Sirius Black more times than the time you ran into each other on Halloween?"

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry I never told you, but had I done so, you probably would have brushed off what Sirius said to me on Halloween, and would have just gone to arrest him."

So, Harry told Dumbledore of how he had met Sirius by the Whomping Willow, and how Sirius had told him about Pettigrew. Dumbledore had listened to the whole story, giving Harry his full attention. When Harry finished, Dumbledore sat in silence for a moment, a silence that was only broken by Scabbers' now frantic squeaking. He was trying desperately to get out of the cage.

"So, let me get this straight... You went to meet a wanted fugitive after midnight, with no one to keep you company, a man who, according to all who knew him, was suspected of breaking out just so that he could kill you?"

"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds stupid."

"It sounds incredibly foolish indeed," Dumbledore chided. "You are lucky you were not hurt."

"I went with my gut," Harry said with a shrug. "I admit, it was a bit foolish, but Sirius had the opportunity to kill me on Halloween, but didn't. That's what made me believe that he wasn't actually out to kill me."

"Well then, I suppose all that remains is to see if what Sirius claims is true," Dumbledore said as he rose from his chair, opening the cage and catching Scabbers' tail with a speed Harry hadn't thought such an old man capable of. He walked around his desk until he stood at the very center of his office, holding out the rat. Then, he waved his wand and let go.

For a moment, Scabbers was frozen in midair, his small gray form twisting madly. The rat fell and hit the floor. There was a blinding flash of light, and then...

It was like watching a speeded-up film of a growing tree. A head was shooting upward from the ground, limbs were sprouting, and a moment later, a man was standing where Scabbers had been, cringing and wringing his hands.

He was a very short man, hardly taller than Harry. His thin, colorless hair was unkempt and there was a large bald patch on top. He had the shrunken appearance of a plump man who had lost a lot of weight in a short time. His skin looked grubby, almost like Scabbers's fur, and something of the rat lingered around his pointed nose and his very small, watery eyes. He looked around at them both, his breathing fast and shallow. Harry saw his eyes dart to the door and back again.

"P-Professor Dumbledore..." the man whispered, wiping his forehead. Dumbledore looked pleasantly surprised.

"Well, hello, Peter," he said with a smile. "It has been a long time."

"How... How good to see you, P-Professor..." Pettigrew gulped as his eyes darted to the door again.

"Harry has been telling me an interesting story about you, Peter," Dumbledore said. "I am inclined to believe him."

"You... You don't... You don't believe Sirius's story, d-do you?" Pettigrew asked, his eyes wide still. "He tried to kill me!"

"So we were told. But, you know, Peter, this is very simple to settle," Dumbledore said, flicking his wand with that speed Harry hadn't thought him capable of. There was a flash of light, and then there was a bang as ropes slithered from Dumbledore's wand, wrapping around Pettigrew, who fell to the floor, sobbing.

"I shall be right back, Harry, please keep an eye on Peter. I have made sure he cannot transform again. I will only go to get Professor Snape's truth potion."

"Yes, sir."

–

And that was how Harry was standing by the oak front doors of the school with none other than Sirius, Dumbledore, and the Minister of Magic himself, Cornelius Fudge. The Minister was fiddling with his lime green bowler hat as he talked to Dumbledore, now and then throwing nervous glances at Sirius.

"Terrible misunderstanding, Dumbledore... Terrible... Mr. Black, you will, of course, be compensated for the unjust seven years you spent in Azkaban."

"Seven?" Harry asked, blinking. "I thought it was twelve?"

"Of course, it was twelve, but five of those years were justly sat," Sirius explained, though he looked unhappy to admit it. "I was an illegal Animagus, after all."

"Yes, well, I must get back to my office... Got a lot of paperwork to deal with, not to mention the Daily Prophet, I have to deliver a statement to them as well..."

"And the dementors?" Dumbledore asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, they will, of course, be sent back to Azkaban," Fudge said, putting on his bowler hat. "Well, take care of yourselves, all of you. Harry, I suggest you go up to the Gryffindor Tower and get some sleep. It's been a long night, after all."

Harry nodded and, shaking Fudge's hand, he turned around and walked off, up the marble staircase, hearing Dumbledore telling Sirius, "Come along, Sirius, I trust you still remember the way to the bathroom? You need a bath, my boy."

When Harry got to the Gryffindor common room, he found that no one had gone to bed yet, and he was immediately assaulted by Gryffindors, from first years to seventh years, asking him questions about Sirius.

Harry did his best to answer all the questions, but it was difficult to tell one question from another, as they were all asked at the same time. Finally, Harry made his way through the crowd and reached Hermione, who was sitting in an armchair with her arms crossed, staring crossly at him.

"Why didn't you tell me about Black?" she asked, and Harry shrugged, sinking into an armchair next to hers.

"Because you would have just run off to McGonagall to tell her about my meeting with Sirius if I had told you. Then the dementors would have caught him and administered the Kiss, and I would never have learned about Pettigrew," he said simply. Hermione opened her mouth to retort, but a look from Harry made her close it again. "Don't try to tell me you wouldn't have told McGonagall, because you would have. Why? Because you would have thought it was a trap, and wouldn't have wanted anything to happen to me. You would have thought Sirius just didn't have time to kill me on Halloween. Am I wrong?"

Hermione didn't respond. Instead, she just huffed and looked away.

"Well, I'm knackered," Harry said, stretching. "I think I'm going to sleep. I'll be in my lab."

With that, he left the noisy common room. Whistling to himself, he entered his dormitory, and made his way over to his trunk, opening it and climbing into it. As he was halfway into the trunk, however, he found Ron sitting on his bed, staring blankly at the wall. Harry's whistle slowly died out.

"Ron, you alright, mate?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I can't believe it... Scabbers was an Animagus..." Ron muttered. Then, his face adopted a disgusted look. "I let him sleep in my bed!"

"Yeah... Tough break... Well! See you later!" Harry said, reaching up and moving to close his trunk, only for Ron to speak again.

"I mean, imagine the things he's done as a rat... I snuggled him when I was a kid!" Ron said, seemingly disgusted with both himself and Pettigrew, shuddering. "Oh, Merlin..." he muttered, falling back on his bed. "No wonder Crookshanks wanted to get him so bad... It was like Black said, he knew Pettigrew wasn't a normal rat. That's what he said, right?"

"Rumor travels fast, considering I only told Dumbledore this morning," Harry said, leaning against the edge of the trunk, bored. "But yeah, that's what he said. Listen, Ron, I've got to go. I'm pretty busy, and-"

"I just can't get this disgusting feeling off me..." Ron muttered, ignoring Harry, who slumped against the edge of his trunk, sighing.

"For fuck's sake..."

"I feel... dirty..."

"Take a shower, then," Harry said, then reached up and grabbed the lid of the trunk. "Well, later, Ron. I'm busy. Ta!"

With that, Harry closed the lid and locked it before Ron could say anything else. Sighing with relief to himself, Harry made his way down the ladder and walked over to the table with the mouse cages. He reached into his pocket and took out Romulus's shrunken cage, tapping it with his wand and making it grow back to its normal size. He then set it down next to Charles' cage.

–

The next day found Harry walking through Hogwarts, intent on finding none other than Professor Lupin. He had tried the faculty room and the Great Hall, but hadn't found him anywhere. Finally, he decided to look for him in the most obvious location: his office.

Reaching the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher's office, Harry knocked on the door, and a shuffling was heard from inside. Then, the door opened to reveal a very worse-for-wear Lupin, who looked at Harry with tired eyes.

"Harry," he said, sounding surprised. "I'm sorry to say, you picked a bad time to visit me. I'm a bit under the weather."

"How interesting, Professor," Harry said, entering the office without having received an invitation. He didn't think Lupin would want to talk about this out in the corridor. "That you should once more fall ill, and once more right during the full moon..."

Immediately, he heard Lupin's door slam shut, and he turned to find Lupin watching him with wide eyes.

"Whatever do you mean, Harry?" Lupin asked, but Harry could tell he was a bit nervous.

"I have been studying a hair I grabbed from your robes once, Professor, and I have discovered an anomaly in your DNA."

"My what?"

Harry sighed. Wizards...

"Deoxyribonucleic acid, also known as DNA, is a nucleic acid containing the genetic instructions used in the development and functioning of all known living organisms, with the exception of RNA viruses. The DNA segments carrying this genetic information are called genes," Harry explained, and Lupin let out an "Ah."

"And... what does my, hm, DNA have to do with anything?"

"I found an interesting mutation in your DNA, a mutation I have come to call an L-strain. It is a mutation that completely rebuilds your DNA, turning it into something completely different every full moon. That, coupled with the fact that your boggart is the full moon, leads me to believe that you are a werewolf."

Lupin was quiet for a minute. Then, his shoulders slumped, and he gave a sigh.

"Well, well, Harry, you really are the brightest wizard of your age," he admitted, nodding. He walked over to his desk and sat down. "It really was too bad. I enjoyed working here."

"Pardon?" Harry asked.

"Well, no one is going to want a werewolf teaching their children, obviously," Lupin said, shrugging.

"And what makes you think I am going to tell anyone of your affliction?"

"You..." Lupin blinked and looked up at him. "You're not going to tell anyone?"

"On the contrary, I am here to help," Harry said, puffing out his chest and raising his head high. "I am in the process of trying to work out a cure for Lycanthropy."

"Greater men than you have tried, Harry," Lupin said wearily.

"Obviously not hard enough. I have already discovered a way to eradicate the L-strain," Harry said. "All I need is to figure out a way for the cure not to destroy the host as well. That's why I need a sample of your blood. I can only do so much with just a single hair."

"You're... really intent on doing this, aren't you?"

"Of course," Harry said, grinning. "It will be beneficial for mankind if I did this, after all."

"That's very-"

"And the gold... So much gold..." Harry said, a greedy glint in his eye. Lupin sighed.

"-generous of you, Harry..."

"So, what do you say?" Harry said, reaching into his lab coat and taking out a hypodermic needle and a glass tube. "It will only hurt for a second."

Lupin looked a bit contemplative.

"Come on, don't be a baby, and roll up your sleeve, man!"

–

Journal, November 8th, 1993,

The blood sample I obtained from Professor Lupin has opened up an untold amount of opportunities. A blood sample is such a step up from a single hair. With this, and continued cooperation from Professor Lupin, I should be able to find the cure. Imagine, a thirteen year old wizard finding a cure to something wizards have been trying to cure for hundreds, maybe even thousands of years!

It would truly be amazing if I could find the cure before my fourteenth birthday... However, with my luck, I'll probably keep blowing up my test subjects. Speaking of test subjects, I have ordered a new mouse. For simplicity's sake, I shall call him Romulus II.

–

Journal, November 15th, 1993,

Romulus II arrived today, and I have already gotten started, bonding the L-strain with Romulus's DNA. Hopefully, the first time wasn't just a fluke. If that was so, I will... I don't know, but I'll do something rash, I'm sure...

Note, so far Romulus II shows no sign of rejecting the L-strain. In fact, he seems to have completely bonded with the virus. I shall check again tomorrow, however. I can only pray that he will live through the night...

–

Journal, November 16th, 1993,

Success! A blood sample has showed that Romulus II has completely bonded with the L-strain. He is now a weremouse, as I have come to call it. The second of his kind, a species that I have created. It truly does give one a feeling of power when you create something new such as this...

No, I'm a scientist, not a mad scientist! I have to remember that! No silly little delusions of grandeur! I am a simple scientist trying to find the cure for Lycanthropy, that's all. Alright, so maybe I'm not that simple. I'm actually pretty great... But I'm not a mad scientist, so I won't start thinking like that!

I better end it here for today. I really should get some sleep. I haven't slept for three days.

–

Journal, November 24th, 1993,

The time is now thirteen minutes to six o'clock. I have decided to forgo eating dinner in favor of trying out my new Lycanthropy cure, which I have dubbed WC-2, which stands for Wolf Cure-Two, for lack of a better name, and because it would be pointless to name something if it doesn't work, although I am positive it will work. Aconote reacted badly because of the aconite mixed with the powdered dragon's tooth. Now, however, I have managed the same recipe without the dragon's tooth, replacing it with a plant known as the Tear Drop Flower. It should have the same effects as the dragon's tooth, only without combating the aconite.

Injecting Romulus II with the WC-2 now...

So far, it seems to work fine. Subject seems to be experiencing none of the pain Romulus I experienced when injected with Aconote, which is a good sign. I shall continue monitoring him through the night. Who needs sleep, anyway, when there's science to be done?

–

Journal, November 25th, 1993,

It is now twenty-four minutes past two in the morning... WC-2 was yet another failure... It had started out so well. The subject appeared to be bonding well with the cure. However, it seems that my initial tests were a bit rushed. After a few hours, subject appeared to be experiencing some irritation in the skin. Upon closer inspection, after drawing a blood sample, I could see that his cells were rapidly expanding.

Three hours into the symptom, the cells and Romulus II reached such a size that his body could no longer contain it, and promptly exploded... I have cleaned the cage and have already sent Hedwig off with an order for a new mouse, who for the sake of simplicity shall be called Romulus III.

–

Journal, December 1st, 1993,

Acquired another blood sample from Professor Lupin. Also learned some interesting things. When I entered his office, I found Sirius there. Apparently, they had been friends at Hogwarts, and Lupin had also been my father's friend. Never mind that now, however. I must get to work on WC-3. Must remember to prolong the initial testing stages before I attempt to test it on Romulus III, who has now arrived.

In my eagerness to find a cure for Lycanthropy, I have forgotten all about my sedatives and my various uppers. Must get back to working on them. I must learn to work on several concoctions at the same time. I have not dared to do so before now, as I have been afraid to mix some of the formulas up, and we know how well that would end. Imagine a sedative that sent people running around the room, unable to calm down, or an upper that left them drowsy, or worse yet, a werewolf cure that did both...

Now, however, I shall attempt working on it all at the same time. First, however, I must eat. Hermione says I have not eaten for three days. I cannot believe it has been that long...

–

Journal, December 9th, 1993,

I have, for the last week and a few days, been working mainly on a new upper, which I have dubbed Speed-Needle, a formula that is the first one I have used myself for when it comes to human testing. Physical effects of Speed-Needle, from what I have noticed, can include hyperactivity, dilated pupils, blood shot eyes, flushing, restlessness, dry mouth, bruxism, and headache. More effects may be included, but I have yet to notice them.

Psychological effects can include euphoria, anxiety, increased libido, alertness, concentration, energy, self-esteem, and self-confidence.

I have noticed that many of these effects are close to the effects induced by amphetamine... Is it possible that I stumbled upon the formula for amphetamine in my work? Well, even if I did, it's not like the wizards have ever heard of it before.

Note, should not self-test at this stage in my career. These effects were very unexpected, and not something I need at the moment. Especially considering amphetamine can have a stunting effect on young people's growth.

–

Journal, December 19th, 1993,

On the Hogwarts Express back to London. Sirius has invited me to stay with him in his family's old house. I don't know what it will be like, but I get a feeling of... is it fear? More like anxiety, I think. Yes, I get a small feeling of anxiety when I think about his family's house... I wonder why...

I have my trunk with me, so my lab is safe, and I will be able to experiment over the Christmas holidays. I feel a bit strange, going to stay with Sirius. But I suppose this is good training. After all, I am without a doubt going to go live with him after this school year, since he's my appointed guardian and all.

–

Harry stepped into Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, and was immediately assaulted by the smell of mold and stale air. Sirius put his finger to his lips when Harry opened his mouth, hushing him. He fiddled with something on the wall, and a soft hissing noise was heard as old-fashioned gas lamps sputtered to life along the walls, casting a flickering, insubstantial light over the peeling wallpaper and threadbare carpet of a long, gloomy hallway, where a cobwebby chandelier glimmered overhead, and age-blackened portraits hung crooked on the walls.

"What a lovely... house..." Harry whispered, his nose taking in the sweetish, rotting smell of the house. Sirius chuckled as he led him through the hallway, down a set of stairs into a kitchen, which smelled dank.

"Sorry it's not much, but it's all I have for now," Sirius said as he walked over to one of the cabinets, opening it. "This is the ancestral home of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Want a butterbeer?"

"Please," Harry said, sitting down at the table, taking in Sirius's new appearance. His hair had been cut much shorter, but still long enough for him to put it in a ponytail, and his face was clean-shaven. Sirius set a bottle of butterbeer down on the table and pushed it, sliding it along the table until Harry caught it. For himself, he poured a glass of firewhiskey.

"So, here we are," Sirius said, sitting down at the other end of the table. "I have to admit, I don't know what to do right now..."

"Neither do I, so while we're contemplating it, let's just enjoy a companionable silence, shall we?" Harry asked with a smile, leaning back in his chair. He whistled to himself as he opened the butterbeer bottle and took a sip. Delicious, as always.

"So, you're a scientist, eh? Remus told me," Sirius added at Harry's questioning look. Harry nodded. "Remus tells me you're trying to find the cure for Lycanthropy. How are you planning on doing that, when wizards have been trying for hundreds of years to find a cure?"

"Well, I haven't been there those hundreds of years, have I?" Harry asked arrogantly with a smirk. "I happen to have access to fields that wizards do not. I happen to be excellent at biology, chemistry, and alchemy, amongst other areas. I think I will be able to find a cure. I have already found two excellent werewolf killers. Not exactly what I was looking for, but it may come in handy if used against someone like Fenrir Greyback."

"So, in your effort to find a cure, you've discovered two ways to kill a werewolf?" Sirius asked in disbelief. "Isn't that a bit, um, counter-productive?"

"So you'd think, but the cure must be able to locate and kill the mutation in the genes, which I have named the L-strain," Harry explained simply. "Unfortunately, I have not yet discovered a way for my cure to attack only the L-strain."

"I see," Sirius said, nodding sagely, but Harry could tell that he didn't understand a word Harry was saying. "So, what do you want for Christmas?"

"I dunno," Harry said, shrugging. "I could use more syringes, as I'm running out, but I already asked Hermione for that..." Harry crossed his arms, thinking deeply. Then, he figured it out. "Oooh, a monkey!"

"A what?" Sirius asked, blinking.

"A monkey! You know, 'Ooh, ooh, aah, aah, gimme a banana?'"

"I know what a monkey is, but why would you need one?"

"Well, it's a big leap to go from testing things on mice to testing things on humans. I'd like a middle ground. A monkey would be perfect for primate tests!"

"You're not getting a monkey..." Sirius deadpanned immediately, and Harry gave off a whine.

"Oh, come on! It'd be excellent to have a monkey!"

"You're not getting a monkey, Harry, and that's final."

"Tch..." Harry crossed his arms again, this time adopting a grumpy expression. "That's the thanks I get for saving you from the dementors..."

–

Well, there you have it, the third chapter! Please leave a review and tell me what you think!

4. Chapter 4

Hi, all! ZenoNoKyuubi here with a fresh chapter straight out of my head! Please enjoy!

–

Journal, January 2nd, 1994,

On my way back to Hogwarts. As stated in earlier entries, I greatly enjoyed my stay with Sirius, although my initial meeting with Mrs. Walburga Black could have gone better. Ah well, there isn't much I can do about her, not until I figure out how to remove a permanent sticking charm. Yet another goal for me to work to achieve, I suppose.

–

Journal, January 23rd, 1994,

Finally managed to produce another cure, WC-3. The time is now... eleven minutes past eight in the evening. I have disposed of the Tear Drop altogether, and am instead using mandrake juice. Hopefully, its restorative effects will allow the subject to stay alive throughout the cleansing process, and will keep him alive for his entire life.

The time is now twelve minutes past eight in the evening. Injecting Romulus III with WC-3...

Initially, the subject appears to experience no discomfort from the injection. I shall continue to monitor his condition for the next few days. Hopefully, this one will work. Hopefully...

–

Journal, January 24th, 1994,

The time is ten minutes past eight in the morning. Almost exactly twelve hours have passed since I injected Romulus III with the WC-3, and so far, he has shown no discomfort or pain. I will draw a blood sample from him, and will take a closer look at his DNA...

Yes, WC-3 is still attacking the L-strain. I had anticipated that without the Tear Drop, the cure would take a bit longer to work, so this was not unexpected. I suppose I will have to monitor him a bit longer before I whoop with joy. I have a good feeling about this, though!

–

Journal, January 25th, 1994,

Romulus III is dead... Death happened at three minutes past midnight. It is now five minutes past midnight, and I am reporting what happened. Romulus III suffered cardiac arrest for reasons unknown. The cure continues to taunt me. It is so close, yet so far away! Why can't I get it?! This is so infuriating! If I cannot even cure a mouse, how can I cure a human?!

Enough for today... I have been awake for the last eighty-four hours. It is time for me to try to get some sleep, so long as I am not kept from it by this infuriating issue...

–

"You... You look terrible, Harry..."

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table at breakfast, not eating. He had dark bags under his eyes, his glasses were off, and he was pinching the bridge of his nose, and had been doing so throughout the whole breakfast.

"Do I?" Harry asked in response to Hermione's statement, and the girl nodded.

"You haven't been sleeping well, have you?"

"I've been much too busy to sleep," Harry said simply, taking out a notebook and jutting down some interesting things that had just popped into his head. "I still am."

"But you slept last night, right?" Hermione asked, looking anxiously at Harry, who shook his head.

"Just for a few hours. Something has been bothering me, so I couldn't sleep well."

"Is it that secret project you've been working on?" Hermione asked, and Harry shook his head again.

"It's everything. My work is too important for me to just look away for even a second. In fact, I feel like I shouldn't even be here. I should be in my lab right now, working on what's important."

"School is important, Harry," Hermione said, only for Harry to wave her off.

"I learned all this during out first year. I'm already up at NEWT level material," he said simply. "Besides, I can say that right back at you. You look incredibly stressed. You don't have the same brain that I do, Hermione. You can't handle studying so many subjects."

Hermione twitched.

"Excuse me?" she asked, looking dangerously at Harry, who shrugged.

"All I'm saying is that you're not fit to study every subject at Hogwarts all at once. That time-turner has you more stressed than Sirius when he can't find his tail, only to remember that he's in human form."

Hermione's eyes widened.

"My... My what?" she asked, looking away from Harry, who could easily tell when she was lying.

"Your time-turner. Come on, Hermione, anyone who can see your schedule can tell what you have to do to be at two lessons at once. Attend one lesson, use the time-turner to go back in time, and attend the other lesson."

"I... I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione said shiftily, but Harry just stared at her. It didn't take long for her to break. "Alright, fine," she said, leaning closer to whisper to him. "I have a time-turner, but you cannot tell anyone about it."

"Why do you assume I would go blabbing about it to anyone?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, it's just-"

"Don't you trust me, Hermione? I am shocked that you would think that I would-"

"I was just letting you know it was a secret!" Hermione interrupted, and Harry clicked his tongue.

"Well, I obviously already knew that."

Hermione looked like she was about to blow a fuse. Instead of speaking, however, she rose from her seat and walked away, but Harry wouldn't let her get away so easily. He got up, and he followed her.

"See?" he said. "Any other day, you would have chewed me out nice and proper for that, but all these classes have you thinking so hard on everything, you can't even come up with anything scathing to say."

"Bite me, Harry..." Hermione muttered, only to yelp when Harry leaned down and clamped his jaws down on her shoulder. "Ow! Did you just...?"

"Well, you told me to, didn't you?"

Harry grinned when Hermione couldn't help but giggle at that.

"Harry, you're silly."

"Silly, but brilliant!" Harry said with a grin. "So, can I see it?"

"I'm not allowed to show it to anyone," Hermione said adamantly. "And knowing you, you'd probably steal it and study it, getting me into a lot of trouble because of it."

"Ah, Hermione, you know me too well," Harry said, slinging an arm around Hermione's shoulders.

–

February came and went, as did Romulus IV and Romulus V, both who died during Harry attempts at finding a cure. Harry was truly getting frustrated with the elusive cure. He barely ate and hardly ever slept, spending most of his time in his lab whenever he wasn't in class.

He still maintained his position as top of his classes, however, although he found it much harder to concentrate due to the prospect of the cure dangling in front of his face.

And so it was Hermione who found Harry on one March afternoon, sitting on a large rock by the Black Lake, wearing his lab coat and staring out at the water.

"How are you, Harry?" Hermione asked cautiously. Harry put on as wide a grin as he could, not that it was very convincing, and instead just looked slightly insane as he turned to look at Hermione.

"Oh, I'm just fine, Hermione, thanks for asking," he said in a false cheery voice.

"Can't you just tell me what you're working on?" Hermione asked, cautiously approaching Harry, who was still grinning unconvincingly at her. "Maybe I can help?"

"You're much too busy as it is. Tell you what, you lend me that time-turner, and I'll tell you what I'm working on."

"You know I can't do that, Harry..."

"Exactly."

"So, you're not going to tell me?" Hermione asked, and Harry shook his head, still grinning. "Harry, you're not well. You need to rest."

"Not well?" Harry asked, his grin widening. "I'm perfectly fine, can't you tell?" he basically yelled out with false cheer.

"I can tell that you're starting to go mental," Hermione said, only for Harry to make a "Pfft!" noise, waving her off.

"Nonsense, Hermione, I'm as sane as I have always been."

"Not very, then."

"You're so funny, Hermione, you always crack me up..."

The two lapsed into silence, one sitting and the other standing. Then, Harry hummed as his gaze turned to the Forbidden Forest. He suddenly rose to his feet, a true grin on his face as he hopped off the rock and grasped Hermione's shoulders.

"Hermione, my dear, you just gave me an excellent idea!"

"I... I did?" Hermione asked, blinking, and Harry shook his head.

"Not really, but I did get an excellent idea! How would you like to go camping with me?"

"Camping?"

"In the Forbidden Forest."

Hermione was silent for a moment. Then...

"Now I know you're mental."

"I'm not mental, I like to think of myself as someone who likes to think outside the triangle."

Hermione blinked. "You mean box?"

"No, not box. Although I think outside of it, I think so far outside of it that I am thinking outside a two-dimensional figure that contains your silly little three-dimensional box."

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"It's much too early for me to deal with this..."

"Come on, let's go see Dumbledore for permission!" Harry said, grabbing Hermione's hand and pulling her along.

They charged into and through the castle, through the crowds gathered outside the classroom, until they reached the gargoyle guarding the stairs to Dumbledore's office.

"Ice Mice!" Harry said, and the gargoyle sprang to life, hopping to the side. He then got on the spiraling staircase, pulling Hermione onto it as well.

"Did Dumbledore tell you the password to his office?" Hermione asked in awe as they were slowly carried up the revolving staircase.

"No, I just guessed it the last time I was here," Harry said with a shrug, stepping off the staircase and knocking on the door. A gentle, "Come in," was heard, and Harry pushed open the door.

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore said when he saw Harry, sitting behind his desk. "And Miss Granger as well. What can I do for you today? Captured any more rats, have you?" he asked with twinkling eyes.

"Professor Dumbledore, I am hereby requesting permission to spend at least a week in the Forbidden Forest without anyone coming to look for me, and I will be taking this young lady with me," Harry said, patting a furiously blushing Hermione on the shoulder. No doubt, she was thoroughly embarrassed, bless her.

"The Forbidden Forest, you say?" Dumbledore asked, blinking. "I hope you realize, Harry, that the Forbidden Forest is forbidden?"

"Only to those without permission," Harry said in a sing-song voice.

"Nevertheless, I cannot in good conscience allow two third year students to venture into the forest for a week, I hope you understand that."

"I figured you'd say that. So, how about sending a teacher with us? Like... Professor Lupin, perhaps?"

"Could this have something to do with this secret project you are working on, Harry?" Dumbledore asked with twinkling eyes, making Harry's eyes widen.

"How did you hear about that?"

"Oh, I do not know what it entails, but I have heard that you have been working on something, and no one knows what it is. I can see on you that you have been working hard."

"That I have, Professor."

"Well, thank you for your time, Professor Dumbledore," Hermione said hastily. "We'll just get out of your hair now. Come on, Harry," she said, grabbing Harry's arm and trying to pull him with her, only for Harry to stand his ground.

"I still insist on going into the Forbidden Forest. There are without a doubt ingredients in there that can help me with my work."

"I am truly sorry, Harry, but I cannot allow that."

"I see..." Harry said, humming as he looked down at the floor in disappointment. Then, however, he put on a grin and looked up at Dumbledore. "Well, thanks anyway, Professor! We'll be going now. Come along, Hermione, don't loiter."

"Don't...? Harry!"

–

"How did I let you talk me into this?"

Harry and Hermione were walking through the Forbidden Forest on the Easter Sunday, both carrying a bag with shrunken supplies and camping equipment in them. Harry was humming happily as he climbed over a fallen tree and ventured deeper into the forest, not answering Hermione, who looked as though she'd rather be anywhere else at that moment.

"Harry, can you at least talk to me?" Hermione asked, and Harry stopped his humming, looking back at her.

"What do you want to talk about, Hermione?"

"How about this secret project you're working on?"

Harry chuckled. "Nice try, Hermione, but as long as you keep the time-turner out of my reach, I'll keep my project out of yours."

"You're cruel, Harry... You know I want to know what you're working on, and you keep hinting at it all the time. At least I don't wave the fact that I have a time-turner in front of your face..." Hermione said with a pout.

"If you're just going to complain, you might as well go back to the castle," Harry said as he stopped, looking back at Hermione, who gave his chest a push.

"I would, but someone dragged me out here, and now I don't want to go back alone!"

"Now you're just being dramatic. I didn't drag you out here. You followed me voluntarily at the prospect of hearing about my secret project, which I said I might tell you about if you came along."

"Yet you won't!"

"I said, I might tell you about it. I decided against it."

Hermione gritted her teeth, and a muscle under her right eye twitched something fierce as she glared at Harry, who sighed.

"Besides, think of this as a lovely opportunity for you to unwind. You have been wearing yourself out in school."

"How did you even get permission to do this? What changed from a month ago when you asked?" Hermione wanted to know, and Harry shrugged.

"It's simple. I didn't get permission."

"You... You what?!"

"I didn't get permission. Didn't you know, Hermione, that it's much easier to ask for forgiveness than permission?"

Hermione stopped suddenly, her eyes wide.

"We... We're out in the Forbidden Forest... without permission?! We'll be expelled!"

"Of course we won't," Harry said, waving her off. "We'll just get detention, is all."

"All? All?! I've never gotten a single detention in my entire life!" Hermione wailed. "Oh, my perfect record will be broken!"

"Don't be such a baby. It's just a detention," Harry said as he started walking again.

They walked for a good hour or so, until they had gotten so deep inside the forest that they could hardly see past the trees closest to them. Harry stopped and looked around.

"Yes, this seems like a good place to set up camp," he said, nodding to himself.

–

Journal, April 4th, 1994,

The first official day in the Forbidden Forest. This place is filled with different wildlife and plants. It's a treasure trove of ingredients for my alchemy. It's dark, it's quiet... It's perfect. Hermione seems to think otherwise. Keeps looking over her shoulder at every little noise. I don't think she likes it in here. Unshrunk my trunk in my tent and proceeded with my experiments.

Goals for this trip:

-Find a unicorn.

-Find my way back to the acromantula nest.

-Hopefully draw a blood sample from a centaur.

-Gather various important ingredients.

Harry nodded to himself as he closed his journal and stepped out of his tent, finding Hermione huddled close to the fire in front of her own tent.

"Hermione, I'm going to gather some ingredients, maybe going to find an acromantula. Would you like to come?"

"No thanks, I'll stay here," Hermione said, quickly looking over her shoulder when she heard a twig snap in the trees. "Hurry back, will you?"

"You can't rush science," Harry said simply as he walked off into the woods, humming to himself. The last time he had been to see Aragog, he had been carried there by an acromantula, so he didn't know the exact location of Aragog's nest. He knew, however, where he had been picked up by the spider and which direction he had been carried off to. So, on he went in that direction.

For about fifteen minutes, he walked, and then stopped when he heard a furious clicking. He took out his wand and lit it with a whispered "Lumos," and pointed it upward, to see a massive spider hanging in the trees, looking right at him. A wide grin appeared on his face.

"There you are. And alone, too, how fortunate..."

The spider dropped, and Harry rolled out of the way, rolling to his feet and pointing his wand at it.

"Arania Exumai!"

A white jet of light issued from Harry's wand, blasting straight into the acromantula and sending it flying into a tree with a furious clicking. It hopped to its feet quickly, however, and turned to Harry once more, now a bit more cautious. Harry idly wondered if the spider remembered him from last year, when he had fought his way out of Aragog's nest.

"Avada Kedavra!" Harry cast, and a jet of green light shot from his wand, hitting the spider, which was flipped onto its back, its legs curling up. Harry perked up in interest. "Hey, it worked! Better not to tell anyone I can do that..." he muttered to himself as he grabbed two of the spider's legs and started pulling it slowly through the forest, back to the camp.

"Harry? Is that you?" Harry heard through the darkness as he approached the tiny speck of light that was the campfire. "Lumos!"

Another speck of light lit up and was aimed at Harry as he moved closer, and Hermione shrieked when she saw what Harry was dragging.

"H-Harry... is that an acromantula?"

"Yup," Harry said simply. "We're not too far away from their nest, so I found this one easily. Should another one show up while I'm busy with this one, please just Stun it. I'd like a live specimen as well."

"What are you going to do with that one?" Hermione asked in a trembling voice. She was scared stiff, poor thing.

"I'm going to dissect it, of course," Harry said, dumping the spider by the fire and going into his tent, coming out dragging his trunk. He opened it to his lab and looked from the trunk to the spider.

"It's a bit big..." he said, humming. "Hopefully, nothing will be disrupted in the spider if I shrink it."

Harry waved his wand, and the spider shrunk down to the size of a tarantula. Nodding, he grabbed it and climbed into his lab.

"Harry, can I come with you?" Hermione asked, and Harry poked his head out of the trunk to see that Hermione looked extremely scared. He sighed.

"Fine..."

Hermione immediately rushed over to the trunk and climbed in after him.

"But don't touch anything," Harry said as he reached the bottom of the ladder, walking over to the operating table he had transfigured from an old table he had found in a broom closet in the school. He dumped the spider on the table, then tapped the spider with his wand, watching as it returned to its normal size.

"Did you close the lid?" Harry asked, and Hermione blinked. They both looked up to see that the lid was still open, and Harry sighed again. "Close it, please."

–

Journal, April 5th, 1994

Initial dissection of the acromantula I found in the forest has given me an untold amount of information on the anatomy of the acromantula, information that the wizards no doubt have no idea about, as they are too ignorant to perform dissections. I have also drained the acromantula of its poison. It is very rare and could be useful in my research. If I could implement the corrosive properties of the acromantula poison to the cure, and get it to target the L-strain, I should be able to manufacture a proper cure, provided that it targets only the L-strain. That will be difficult, but things need to be difficult, or they wouldn't be worth doing.

–

Journal, April 6th, 1994,

Found a dead unicorn in the forest. The death had happened recently, as luck would have it. I obtained a blood sample, used my trusty bone saw to saw off the horn, and stripped the tail of its hair. The unicorn shall always be remembered for its contribution to my scientific research. Oh, what luck! I still can't believe that it happened! I thought I was going to have to wrestle a unicorn to get a hold of so much as a scraping from its horn! I never would have believed I'd ever get so much in one day, not to mention all the various plants and bugs I collected, all of which will serve me well in my research.

Hermione continues to pester me about my work, constantly asking what I am working on. Considering telling her. Should I? Hermione has been known to run to the teachers if she smells trouble, and my work is unethical, according to the wizarding world... But Hermione is a Muggle-born. She should know that science is a constant path of trial and error!

–

Journal, April 7th, 1994,

Collected some more bugs and plants today. Nothing more to report, as I have put my work on hold during this little trip. The acromantula has nothing more to tell me, so I shall dispose of it, as soon as I have drained it of its remaining blood, taken a few hairs and harvested a few organs. I also went back to the unicorn and collected its corpse. I intend to harvest all of its organs as well. They may be useful for something.

–

Journal, April 8th, 1994,

I have gotten all I could possibly want here in the Forbidden Forest, save for the centaur blood sample, but I had never expected to get that. Hermione and I will set off as soon as the sun rises. I think I need to get some sleep, so I shall go to bed as soon as we get back. Hermione tells me that I look horrible. I am inclined to believe her, even though I haven't looked in a mirror. I feel horrible...

–

Harry stretched happily as he rose from his bed, rested and ready to tackle another day! He yawned and got dressed, once more wearing his lab coat rather than his Hogwarts robes. He refused to tie his tie today, and instead just let it hang loosely around his neck.

He made his way to Professor Lupin's office and knocked on the door, which opened to show Lupin, who sighed and immediately rolled up his sleeve as Harry took out his blood sampling kit.

Today was April tenth, so Harry didn't have to worry about school today, as it was a Sunday, so he made his way back to the Gryffindor Tower, headed up the stairs to the dormitory, and climbed into his trunk. He'd received a very special package, which was waiting to be opened in his lab.

"Journal, April Tenth, Nineteen ninety-four," Harry spoke to his journal, walking up to the wooden box on his desk with several air holes in it. "Received my package. The package contains..." He opened the box, to show a large cage with a chimp inside it. "...my new test subject for primate testing, designation Zeus. I do not think that it would be very safe to make the large leap from rodent testing to human testing without something in between, so I have smuggled this package into the school using the secret path through the Shrieking Shack."

The monkey gave a shriek as Harry lifted the cage out of the box and swept the box down on the ground, before placing the cage on the table.

"I shall attempt to bond the L-strain to designation Zeus later today, as soon as I have bonded it to Romulus VI."

As Harry grinned at Zeus, the monkey seemed to know that it was in danger, as it cowered in its cage...

–

Journal, April 11th, 1994,

Successfully bonded the L-strain to both Romulus VI and Zeus. Zeus seems to be coping well with the change in him, which leads me to believe that the patient doesn't actually feel any changes save during the actual transformation. I am in the process of developing WC-6. I just need a little more time. The acromantula venom needs to simmer for at least twenty-four hours before I can use it, to remove most of its corrosive properties. I also need to scrape some off the unicorn horn and mix up the serum using some of the other ingredients I found in the Forbidden Forest. This is a whole new formula, and I have high hopes for it.

–

Journal, April 15th, 1994,

The time is... seven minutes past six o'clock in the evening. I have successfully mixed WC-6, and the initial testing on the L-strain has shown great success. The acromantula venom and the unicorn horn, despite what the books would have you believe, do not counteract each other on such a level that they completely nullify the effect of the respective ingredients. They do counteract each other, but not right away. Hopefully, the L-strain will be defeated before the counteraction begins. The time is now eight minutes past six o'clock. Injecting Romulus VI with WC-6 now...

Romulus VI appears to feel no discomfort, other than the obvious discomfort of being injected with acromantula venom. Hopefully, I will see great results. I shall wait and see...

–

Journal, April 18th, 1994,

Success! The serum has started counteracting itself, and has evaporated. A blood sample shows that there is no trace of the L-strain left in Romulus VI's body! Of course, I shall have to wait a little longer to see if it returns before I move on to primate testing, but I have a good feeling about this!

I believe I shall wait a total of four days before I start primate testing.

–

Journal, April 22nd, 1994,

A week has passed since I injected Romulus VI with WC-6, which from now on will be dubbed 'Wolf Killer.' He has shown no sign of pain or irritation, and his blood shows that the L-strain is completely gone. The time is now twenty-four minutes to two, midday. Injecting Zeus with Wolf Killer now... Hopefully, this will work. No, it will work. It must!

Take note, Zeus, like Romulus VI, shows no sign of pain or discomfort other than the expected discomfort of the acromantula venom. Like with Romulus VI, I shall wait a week and see what happens before I move on to human testing. Professor Lupin should hopefully, volunteer as the first test subject...

–

Harry woke up on April the twenty-ninth, stretching, and immediately made his way into his trunk. It was four o'clock in the morning, so none of his Housemates had woken up yet. Therefore, he didn't have to worry about being disturbed. He slowly headed down the ladder after closing the trunk, and walked over to Zeus's cage. The monkey wasn't moving in his cage. Immediately fearing the worst, Harry rushed over and opened the cage, putting a hand on Zeus, only to breathe a sigh of relief when he felt that the monkey was breathing. Romulus VI was also healthy and awake.

Harry waved his wand, and the quill on his journal stood up.

"Journal, April Twenty-ninth, Nineteen ninety-four," he spoke as the quill started writing. "Another success! The Wolf Killer has so far been seen to not kill the subject for a change! I will now draw a blood sample from Zeus and see if it has worked as well for him as it did for Romulus VI..."

Harry grabbed a syringe from his box of syringes and moved over to Zeus's cage, opening it and sticking the needle into the monkey's skin, waking him up with a shriek. He must have learned not to struggle by now, however, as he didn't move as Harry drew a sample of his blood.

He moved over to his microscope and tapped it with his wand, before pouring a drop of blood on a small piece of glass, pressing it together with another piece of glass, laying it on the stage of the microscope, before staring into the lens, the microscope magically magnifying the blood thousands of times.

"Zeus's blood show that the L-strain is completely wiped out!" Harry spoke joyfully, turning a dial on the microscope, zooming out. "The cells are also stable. I think I've done it! I found the cure!"

Harry whooped and started running around his lab, leaping with joy. It seemed contagious, as Zeus started jumping around in his cage, crying out with happiness.

–

Well, there you have it, the fourth chapter! Please leave a review and tell me what you think!

5. Chapter 5

Hi, all! ZenoNoKyuubi here with a fresh chapter straight out of my head! Please enjoy!

–

"You've truly done it?" Lupin asked, sitting in his office with Harry. In his hand was a small bottle filled with a yellowish liquid, which was bubbling slightly. "This is the cure?"

"That's the Wolf Killer," Harry said with a nod, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. He hadn't slept for a while, too busy monitoring Zeus and Romulus VI. "I haven't seen the long-term effects of it, but it keeps the L-strain away for at the very least a month. That's how long I've been testing it. Of course, I haven't found a human test subject yet."

Lupin sat in silence for a while. Then, he nodded and set the bottle down on the desk between him and Harry and started rolling up his sleeve.

"I take it that it has to be injected, not drunk?" he asked, and Harry blinked.

"Pardon?"

"You just found your human test subject. If it means getting rid of the wolf, I'm willing to risk it all. Test it out on me."

Harry's face shone like a light bulb with joy all of a sudden at hearing that.

"You mean it?" he asked happily. "You'll allow me to test it on you?"

"I mean it," Lupin said, holding out his arm. "Let's do this."

Harry took the bottle with the Wolf Killer and reached into his coat, taking out a small, black case and opening it, to show a syringe and a rubber band. He tied the rubber band around Lupin's upper arm and stuck the needle of the syringe into the cap of the bottle, filling it up with three CC's of Wolf Killer, the dose he had calculated was enough for a human. He tapped the bubbles out of the syringe, then rapped his fingers against the vein on Lupin's arm.

"Ready for this?" Harry asked, positioning the needle above the vein, and Lupin nodded. "You should feel a slight burning as the cure spreads through your body."

With that, Harry stuck the needle into Lupin's arm and pressed the plunger, injecting him with the cure. Lupin gave a slight hiss at the burning, but otherwise didn't react much to it.

As he pulled the needle out, Harry put the syringe back in the case and cast a silent Scourgify on it, before taking off the rubber band and putting it back in the case as well, along with the Wolf Killer bottle. He put the case back in his coat, and took out his journal, along with his quill, which he tapped with his wand.

"Journal, May Twenty-second, Nineteen ninety-four," he spoke, watching Lupin. He peered into Lupin's eyes and started speaking again. "Test subject Remus John Lupin has been injected with the Wolf Killer at approximately eight minutes past eight o'clock in the evening. Exact time is unknown, as the subject volunteered unexpectedly. Subject shows no discomfort, other than the obvious burning. I shall keep him under observation for the next seventy-two hours before I claim this to be a success."

"Do you think this will work?" Lupin asked as Harry put away his journal.

"I remain hopeful," he said with a nod. "Neither Romulus VI or Zeus have shown any sign of damage from the cure."

"I still can't believe you've come up with a way to transfer Lycanthropy without a bite," Lupin said. "You were right. If someone had heard of this before you created the cure, you would have been chucked out of Hogwarts and had your wand broken before you could say 'Quidditch.'"

–

"A WEREWOLF CURE?!"

Harry flinched as he sat down at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. Hermione, who was sitting across from him, was glaring heatedly at him from above the edge of her copy of the Daily Prophet. The headline read: 'WOLF-BEGONE? BOY WHO LIVED FINDS THE CURE!'

The whole Great Hall was silent after Hermione's outburst, everyone's attention being focused on Harry and Hermione, the latter of whom reached across the table to grab the former's collar, shaking him.

"Why didn't you tell me you were working on something that big?!"

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but just then, slow clapping reached his ears. He looked up to the teachers' table, to see that Dumbledore was clapping, beaming at him. Soon enough, the rest of the teachers, save for Snape, joined in the clapping, followed by most of the students. The Slytherins were still as stone, not moving a muscle, but Harry could hardly care, raising his goblet in answer to the applause, sporting a grin that he was sure could rival Gilderoy Lockhart's in size.

Only, you know, his looked a bit more mad than Lockhart's grins...

He looked to the teachers' table again to see Snape sitting just as still as the Slytherins, glaring sourly at him.

"Well?" Hermione asked once the applause had died down, and the students had gone back to eating. Harry shrugged.

"Like I said, you would have run off to McGonagall as soon as you heard that I was experimenting on mice."

"No, I-" Hermione stopped when Harry gave her a look that told her not to even bother. She huffed and crossed her arms.

"Now, come on, it's time for the exams," Harry said, eating a single piece of toast without butter, before getting out of his seat and walking out of the Great Hall.

As predicted, Harry aced all of his exams, even going through the entire week without sleeping for even a second. He spent his days in classes, and his nights in his lab, working on his new sedatives, uppers, downers, anything he could think of concocting.

And now, it was time for the summer holidays. Harry was sitting on the Hogwarts Express with Hermione, who had just told him that she was dropping Divination and Muggle Studies and had turned in her time-turner.

"Well, I hate to say I told you so, but..." Harry trailer off, blinking. "Wait a minute, I love to say I told you so! Heh, brain fart! Harry Potter, meet Harry Potter."

"Yes, yes, you were right," Hermione said simply, burying her nose in her Arithmancy book. "Drop it."

"How are you? Oh, I'm good. That's great, I'm glad to hear it," Harry continued, shaking hands with himself. "So, about that Hermione, huh? I did tell her. That you did."

"Enough, Harry," Hermione said, not looking up from her book. "It was amusing at first, but now it's just annoying."

"What is?" Harry asked, looking at Hermione in confusion. "My talking to myself, and answering myself?"

"Yes..." Hermione muttered, and Harry made a "Pfft!" noise.

"You're such a bore sometimes, Hermione. You need to learn how to relax."

"Says the man who hasn't slept and have been working ceaselessly since last Sunday..."

"And I have been relaxing while doing so. It is very relaxing to inject a mouse with a until then unheard of formula and seeing the reaction."

"How are your mice, by the way? They must be pretty beat up after all your tests with the werewolf cure," Hermione said.

"Oh, I haven't used Mickey, Minnie, or Charles for that. I've only used Romulus I, II, III, IV, V, and VI for that. Oh, and Zeus."

"Zeus?" Hermione asked, finally looking up from her book. Harry gave a wide grin.

"I have a monkey," he said, making Hermione go wide-eyed.

"You have a what?!"

"A monkey! Isn't it great? He's a chimp, and I named him Zeus because... well, I like Greek mythology. He's a fantastic test subject, cool as can be."

"Harry, you can't keep a chimpanzee in your lab!"

"Why not? Because I do... and I'm awesome," Harry said, giving another grin.

"You're insane."

"No, if I was insane, I would go, 'La la la la, I came from Uranus to warn you about the 'Roid monsters that are on their way!' My mind is merely organized chaos."

"Uh huh..." Hermione said, peering into Harry's eyes. "Harry, your pupils are dilated. Did you take something?"

"Oh, yes," Harry said, reaching into his lab coat and taking out a small bottle filled with a clear liquid. "It's one of my uppers. It's been keeping me awake this past week. I call it... Speed-Needle." A small grin appeared on his face as he stuffed the bottle back in his coat. "It's surprisingly effective. Care to try a drop?"

"No thanks... You can't do drugs, Harry," Hermione chided, only to get waved off.

"Oh, drugs, pish-posh. I prefer stimulant."

"Stimulating what?"

"My brain."

"Uh huh..."

–

Journal, June 22nd, 1994,

Finally got around to setting up a permanent lab in Mrs. Black's old room in Number Twelve, Grummauld Place. Kreacher, the Black Family house-elf, has cleared out the room for me, as Sirius has given him the order to obey my commands as though they were his own.

I have cleared out my trunk lab in favor of keeping the larger lab in Mrs. Black's room. It feels like a cold chill comes over me whenever I enter that room. It feels... right somehow. I don't want to talk like a mad scientist, as I am definitely not mad, but I like the dark and dank for my lab.

–

Journal, June 25th, 1994,

I have been working day and night on a new drug. It is a sleep-inducer, which, from the looks of things on Mickey, Minnie, and Charles, gives very vivid dreams. I call it Acroshot, a catchy name which is a combination of acromantula and the fact that you shoot it. This is because I have used diluted acromantula venom as the key ingredient.

Sirius is bothered by the fact that I like to function without sleep. I just don't see the need for it. There's plenty of time to sleep when you're dead. Although I admit that I am tempted to test out Acroshot on myself. However, I will first test it out on Zeus, then maybe Sirius, voluntarily or not.

–

"Journal, June Twenty-ninth, Nineteen ninety-four," Harry spoke as he stood in his lab, standing at his alchemy station with two test tubes in his hands, one filled with a poisonous green liquid, which was smoking slightly, and the other with a blue liquid in it. "I have created a concoction that should be able to-"

A terrible scream suddenly sounded through the house, making Harry jump in surprise, dropping the test tubes. The test tubes crashed against the floor, mixing with each other as they splashed over Harry's shoes. Harry's eyes widened as his shoes started to bubble and melt.

"WALBURGA!" Harry roared in rage as the woman's screams continued to echo through the entire house. Then, his eyes widened again. "Ow! Ow! Ow!" he exclaimed, jumping from foot to foot as the liquid burned his feet. He immediately whipped out his wand, pointing it at his feet, and immediately the liquid disappeared.

He stomped out of his lab, bare feet still smoking slightly, and thundered down the stairs to where Sirius was struggling to pull the curtains shut to Walburga Black's portrait.

"I swear to Merlin, I will find a way to kill her portrait!" Harry exclaimed angrily. He grasped one curtain, and with their combined effort, the two managed to shut the curtains, and the portrait immediately went quiet. "What happened?" he hissed at Sirius. "I told you I was working on something delicate, and couldn't be disturbed."

"My dearest cousin accidentally knocked over the umbrella stand," Sirius whispered, gesturing for the horrible troll's foot umbrella stand which, indeed, had been knocked over. "Why don't you come to the kitchen, say hello?"

"I can't be bothered to-" Harry got no further as Sirius grasped his arm and started pulling him along, down the stairs and into the kitchen.

In the kitchen, sitting at the kitchen table, was a young woman, just a couple of years older than Harry, with short, bubblegum pink hair, a heart-shaped face, and a set of plush, pink lips. The girl smiled sheepishly at the two of them.

"Sorry, Sirius... Oh, hello," she said, waving at Harry, who gave her a lazy, two fingered salute.

"Harry, this is my darling little cousin, Nymphadora-"

"Don't call me Nymphadora!"

Sirius cleared his throat. "As I was saying, this is Nymphadora Tonks, who prefers to be called by her surname."

"You would too if your mother named you Nymphadora..." the girl said, crossing her arms with a pout.

"Tonks, this is my godson, Harry Potter, genius, inventor, and scientist."

"Charmed," Harry said, sitting down at the table. Tonks stared at him, then looked under the table at him.

"Um... You know your shoes are halfway melted, right?"

"No, I hadn't noticed," Harry said, narrowing his eyes. "And it definitely didn't happen because someone woke up Walburga."

"Oh... Sorry," Tonks said sheepishly.

"It's fine."

"Tonks here is a recent graduate from the Auror academy," Sirius said, sitting down as well. "She's Mad-Eye's protege. You remember Mad-Eye, don't you?"

"Of course, the man with the fascinating eye."

"Fascinating?" Tonks asked in surprise. "Not the word I'd use."

"Harry's very interested in magical engineering," Sirius informed Tonks. "He's bound to find things like Moody's eye fascinating. Anyway, Harry, I thought you might find Tonks here interesting."

"Indeed?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Well, she's a metamorphmagus."

Now that caught Harry's attention, and he forgot all about his stinging feet, leaning across the table to grab Tonks's cheeks.

"Oh really?" he asked, feeling her cheeks, before running his fingers through her hair. "Now that is interesting."

"Woah there," Tonks said, moving back out of his reach. "Ever hear of personal space?"

"A scientist doesn't have time to bother with personal space. Now, come here and let me examine you."

Tonks stared at Harry. Then, she looked to Sirius.

"He's not used to saying please, is he?"

"He's used to getting what he wants, one way or another. I told him he couldn't have a monkey, and what does he keep in his lab? A monkey named Zeus."

"You have a monkey?" Tonks asked excitedly, a grin on her face. "That's wicked!"

"I know, now come here," Harry said. "I promise, you'll just feel a sting."

"A sting?" Tonks asked, only to get a look from Harry.

"Well, of course. I have to take a blood sample, after all."

"Just roll up your sleeve, Tonks. He'll never quit asking until you do," Sirius suggested with a grin. Tonks looked a bit weary, but rolled up her sleeve nonetheless. Harry gave a grin as he took out his blood sampling kit and opened it.

–

Journal, June 30th, 1994,

Acquired a blood sample from my new friend, Nymphadora Tonks, a lovely young woman who happens to be a metamorphmagus. This is extraordinary, indeed. Upon examining her blood, I discovered that her base DNA remains the same, but that is all that remains the same. Her cells are in a constant state of change, even when she doesn't metamorph into anything. Even when she holds a metamorph, the cells keep changing. No wonder why she is so clumsy all the time, when he body is in such an uproar...

–

Journal, July 5th, 1994,

Follow-up research shows that Romulus VI's blood is still free from the L-strain. Likewise, Zeus's and Lupin's blood shows the same. Money keeps pouring in because of the cure. St. Mungo's has bought the formula, and I get money every time it's used. It's delicious! More money than I know what to do with, plus my name is synonymous with revolutionary science! I received a letter today from Chief Healer Atkinson from St. Mungo's today, offering to fund my research in exchange for looking into cures for other untreatable illnesses. I, naturally, said yes.

–

Journal, July 7th, 1994,

Bought a new microscope today. It is a high-powered, electron microscope. Of course, some magical rewiring will be required to have it function around magic. Now, my optical microscope is a good one, and magic has it functioning just like an electron microscope, but this beauty was just too great to resist. I should make it function in various modes as well. I think this will take up most of my time.

–

Journal, July 21st, 1994,

Success! After so many days, I have finally managed to convert my microscope into a magic microscope. It completely functions on magic, and it's low voltage, accelerating the electrons, is now replaced with magic. It was hard work, but I finally did it. I don't think even Dumbledore could have done it, but that might not be true, just wishful thinking.

Side-note, must research just how far Dumbledore has gotten in the field of magical engineering.

–

When Harry woke up on his birthday, he had been much too accustomed to Dursley's treatment of him, as he did not expect to be woken up by a cry of "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

Immediately, Harry shot up in bed, his bloodshot eyes taking in his surroundings. At the foot of the bed stood Sirius, Lupin, and Tonks, all of them sporting wide grins on their faces.

"You know, a good birthday present would have been to let me sleep as long as I wanted," Harry muttered as he rubbed his eyes.

"Nonsense!" Tonks said. "It's already nine, and I have to be at work soon. I got to come in late today just so that I could congratulate you and give you a present!"

"I didn't know we were that good friends," Harry said as Tonks held out a wrapped box to him. He took it and tore the wrappers off, opening the box to find... a lab coat? He looked up at Tonks, who kept grinning.

"That coat will grow with you, and has about fifteen pockets inside it, so you can keep all kinds of things in it. Sirius told me you always complained that you had too little room in your pockets for your things."

"Wow, thanks, Tonks," Harry said, smiling. Then, his eyes widened. "Wait, it's nine o'clock?"

"Yeah?" Sirius said, handing over another present. He was, however, ignored by Harry, who shot out of bed, clad in only his boxers, and put on his new lab coat, charging into his lab.

A liquid was boiling in a test tube held over a small fire. Harry rushed up to it and immediately took it off the fire, watching as the green liquid turned a murky brown. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank Merlin..." he muttered as he grabbed another test tube, this one with another green liquid in it, only this was a glowing, plutonium-green. He poured half the murky brown liquid into the green liquid and swirled it, watching it turn black.

"Aha!" he yelled out with joy as a knock was heard on the door, which he had slammed shut on pure reflex. "You may enter."

The door opened, and Sirius, Lupin, and Tonks stepped inside, the latter two looking around in awe at the equipment and animal cages.

"What's with the excited yell?" Sirius asked, walking up to Harry, who spun to face him, showing off the black liquid.

"Sirius, I am on the verge of creating an incredible potion! This little beauty is estimated to taste like bottled shite, but if my calculations are correct, it may very well cure madness."

Sirius went wide-eyed.

"You mean...?"

"Frank and Alice Longbottom," Harry said with a nod, which made Lupin and Tonks go wide-eyed as well.

"But their condition is said to be incurable!" Tonks said, only to get waved off by Harry.

"Obviously, no one has had me take a look at them before now," he said, putting a stopper in the test tube and pocketing it in one of the two pockets on the outside of the coat.

"When did you even get to St. Mungo's?" Sirius wanted to know, but Harry shrugged.

"I didn't. This solution was so obvious that I didn't even have to go there and examine them in order to come up with the cure. In fact, the werewolf cure was much harder to discover than this cure. Unicorns are so useful."

"Please don't tell me you used unicorn blood..." Lupin said.

"Of course not. I burned its tail hair."

The next day, Harry stood in the permanent ward of St. Mungo's, waiting. Healer Atkinson, a tall, lean healer with silvery hair and stubble on his face was standing next to him. He was chewing on a pipe, and was watching the same thing as Harry.

Another Healer, a woman, was coaxing Frank Longbottom into drinking the concoction that Harry had brewed.

"Are you sure this will work, Mr. Potter?" Atkinson asked, and Harry nodded.

"I'm sure of it," he said and dug his hand into his pocket, taking out a piece of parchment and handing it to Atkinson. "Here's the formula. Make sure it's brewed exactly as the parchment says, or it will be useless. He needs to be fed this once a week, and he should show some progress. It will take some time, but I'm sure he'll make a full recovery."

"You're invaluable to us, Mr. Potter," Atkinson said, taking the parchment as the two made their way out of the permanent ward. "Are you sure you haven't considered a career as a Healer?"

"Although it is tempting, I think it's a bit too narrow a path for me to walk, Healer Atkinson," Harry said with a smile. "I am destined for greater things than merely curing diseases and madness. I have a hand in as many fields as I possibly can. I want to do as much good as possible."

"Well, if you ever reconsider, just send me an owl, and I'll see if we can't get you past those pesky school years, and get you started on your Healer training right away," Atkinson said, shaking Harry's hand.

"I appreciate it," Harry said with a bow of his head, before turning away from Healer Atkinson and walking away.

–

Journal, August 5th, 1994,

Received word from Healer Atkinson. Frank Longbottom has already started showing signs of recovering. His eyes show themselves responsive, even though the rest of his body does not. It is, however, only a matter of time. I am certain that I brewed the cure just right, and that he will make a full recovery. I remain hopeful.

In other news, I have tried Acroshot on Zeus, finally. I cannot believe I forgot about it in my rush to create the cure for madness. That's very much unlike me. Like with the mice, Zeus moved around a lot in his sleep, which leads me to believe that he has very vivid dreams.

–

Journal, August 8th, 1994,

Frank Longbottom received his second dose of the cure, henceforth known as Unicure, today. I still remain hopeful that he will become more responsive as time passes. However, only time will tell.

Tested Speed-Needle on Zeus today. The monkey became very rowdy, and I had to give him a sedative. I believe I gave him too large a dose, as his heart was racing something fierce. I shall try again tomorrow, only with a smaller dose.

–

Journal, August 15th, 1994,

Third dosage. Frank has shown himself to respond to the treatment, and he has started mumbling, probably in an attempt to communicate. His eyes are alert and awake, not showing the distant look they had two weeks ago. By Merlin, I think I've actually done it. Werewolf cure at thirteen, and madness cure at fourteen. Who knows what I'll think of next?

–

Journal, August 22nd, 1994,

Fourth dosage. Frank has begun talking. He doesn't seem to know where he is, or how he got there, but he can speak properly now, although he sometimes forgets who he's talking to, a side-effect of the cure, no doubt. However, I'm sure there is nothing to worry about. I'm positive it is something that will pass.

–

"But I am not a man, Muggle," the cold voice said, barely audible now over the crackling of the flames. "I am much, much more than a man. However... why not? I will face you... Wormtail, come turn my chair around."

The servant gave a whimper.

"You heard me, Wormtail."

Slowly, with his face screwed up, as though he would rather have done anything than approach his master and the hearth rug where the snake lay, the small man walked forward and began to turn the chair. The snake lifted its ugly triangular head and hissed slightly as the legs of the chair snagged on its rug.

And then the chair was facing Frank, and he saw what was sitting in it. His walking stick fell to the floor with a clatter. He opened his mouth and let out a scream. He was screaming so loudly that he never heard the words the thing in the chair spoke as it raised a wand. There was a flash of green light, a rushing sound, and Frank Bryce crumpled. He was dead before he hit the floor.

Harry Potter awoke with a jolt, falling off the chair in his lab that he'd been sleeping on. He panted as though he had just been out running a marathon, and his scar burned as though someone had pressed a white-hot wire against it. The cool floor did little to ease the burning in his scar, and he remained on the floor for some time after awaking from his nap.

A knock was heard on Harry's door, and at his, "Come in," the door opened to reveal Sirius.

"Hey, Harry, I heard a thud, and... Why are you on the floor?"

"I am contemplating the meaning of death."

"Uh huh... On the floor?"

"One must imitate a corpse in order to think like a corpse."

"And, uh, what have you discovered?"

"I'm doing it wrong. Corpses don't think."

"Uh huh..." Sirius muttered again. Then, he slowly turned around. "I'm just gonna go, leave you to it..."

"Oh, Sirius, can't you tell when I'm joking?" Harry asked, getting up from the floor. Sirius stopped and turned back to face Harry.

"Not really, no..."

"Well, I was joking this time. I actually had a very vivid dream. And no, I didn't take any Acroshot," he added upon seeing Sirius open his mouth. "I'm supposed to test it on you first, remember? No, I dreamed about Voldemort, and Wormtail."

Sirius's eyes hardened. Wormtail had escaped at the beginning of the summer vacation, turning into a rat and scurrying away on the way to Azkaban.

"What about that dream?" Sirius asked, giving Harry his full attention.

"In the dream, I heard Voldemort and Wormtail talking about having murdered a woman named Bertha Jorkins after pumping her for information. They then talked about another murder, and his faithful servant at Hogwarts. I don't know what it means, but I don't remember much after that, except for the fact that Voldemort said, 'Harry Potter is as good as mine.' Then I woke up, and my scar hurt as though someone had set it on fire."

Sirius looked very serious (No pun intended) as he watched Harry. Harry was prepared to have him wave it off as a silly dream, so he didn't expect Sirius to nod.

"Alright, I'll write to Dumbledore, and ask for his advice on the matter. In the meantime, you put it out of your mind, and focus on monitoring Frank. We'll wait for Dumbledore's response before we react to this things, alright?"

Harry nodded.

"Alright."

Harry did as Sirius ordered him, and put the matter out of his mind, focusing instead on his research. Then, the day he had been fearing came, the day of the Quidditch World Cup Finals.

That was how Harry found himself walking down a path through a forest with Sirius, grumbling to himself. Sirius had been given Top Box tickets as part of the Ministry's apology for falsely imprisoning him in Azkaban. Sirius was extremely excited about it, but Harry, who had never been that big a fan of Quidditch, couldn't care less about it.

"Prime seats!" the Ministry witch at the entrance of the giant, golden stadium said when she checked their tickets. "Top Box! Straight upstairs, Mr. Black, and as high as you can go."

Harry sighed to himself as the two made their way up the purple-carpeted stairs into the stadium.

"Why am I coming with you to this again?"

"Because I got two tickets, and Remus was being a bore by planning his next school year's lessons today of all days," Sirius said simply.

"And I had to be forced out of my lab because...?"

"Because you need some fresh air. You haven't been outside since you went to give the cure to Healer Atkinson."

"I went out yesterday."

"Taking out the trash doesn't count as going out," Sirius said adamantly. Harry scoffed and crossed his arms.

"I don't even like Quidditch... It's loud, noisy, and makes no sense whatsoever."

"Loud and noisy, isn't that pretty much the same thing?" Sirius asked as they kept climbing the stairs.

"It's so loud, I can use two words to describe it in the same sentence..." He reached into his pocket and took out a pair of seemingly futuristic binoculars. "At least I'll get time to study these omnioculars..."

–

Well, there you have it, the fifth chapter! Please leave a review and tell me what you think!

6. Chapter 6

Hi, all! ZenoNoKyuubi here with a fresh chapter straight out of my head! Please enjoy! In this chapter, things start to get a bit gorey.

–

Journal, August 29th, 1994,

Fifth dosage. Frank Longbottom is starting to remember where he is, what happened, and what he has been doing in St. Mungo's for so many years. I believe his son, Neville, has gone to visit him once, and the two had had a heart-warming reunion, apparently. Frank was apparently torn up to see Alice still in the same state, but he was assured that as soon as the Healers are sure the cure is permanent, they will start giving it to her as well. There is only one dose left needed, and it should be done.

–

Journal, August 30th, 1994,

Since Sirius is always on guard against any sneak attacks, I have decided not to test Acroshot on him. Instead, I shall be testing it on myself. I believe three CC's should be enough to knock a human out. Injecting now... As expected, I feel a slight burning from the diluted acromantula venom. This was not unexpected, but

–

Journal, August 31st, 1994,

Continuing where I left off at the last journal entry. Sleep caught me by surprise, so I didn't get to finish it. As I was saying, the burning was not unexpected, but slightly unpleasant. Side-effects from usage include blackened veins along the forearm, no doubt also due to the acromantula venom. As I expected, I received very vivid dreams from this. Very vivid...

–

There was a knock on the door to Harry's lab, and he called, "Enter." The door opened to reveal Sirius, who stepped inside and immediately stopped, staring. Harry was lying sprawled on his steel operating table, clad in only his boxers and lab coat. He looked the very image of a dead body, and would have been very convincing had his chest not moved as he breathed.

"Did you have another dream, Harry?" Sirius asked, but Harry shook his head.

"No, this time I really am imitating a corpse. I have to think, if I was a corpse just hit by a Killing Curse, how would I have defended myself if I could do it again?"

"And what conclusion have you reached?" Sirius wanted to know, watching Harry strangely.

"It's very simple. Why do most people aim for the chest when firing a Killing Curse?"

"It's easier to hit?"

"So one would think, but I have analyzed the Killing Curse, and I have come to one conclusion," Harry said, sitting up and looking at Sirius. "The curse only takes effect when it connects with the heart."

"But, Harry, people have been hit in other places than the chest, and have been killed."

"Yes, but, the curse travels through the body to the heart, completely stopping it. So, how does one stop something that can only be blocked by solid objects?"

"Put a solid object between you and the curse?"

"Exactly. But how to keep oneself protected at all times? That's the question..." Harry said, lying back down and staring at the ceiling. "Now leave me, I must further contemplate."

"Hm..." Sirius, instead of leaving, stepped further into the room, humming, and picked up an empty syringe from the tray next to the operating table, where Harry kept his operating tools. "Did you take something questionable?"

"I am merely testing out a new drug I've developed. I call it the Plunger. It relaxes the body, and gives the patient, me, a sense of euphoria and tranquility. How else do you think I've managed to stay still for so long?"

"I'm worried about you."

"Don't be, I'm perfectly fine," Harry said, waving him off. "Ta for now. I think I'm going to take a nap."

With that, Harry's eyes slowly closed, and he drifted off into peaceful sleep.

The next day found Harry sitting in an empty compartment in the Hogwarts Express with none other than Hermione and, for once, Neville. Neville, as soon as he saw Harry, immediately started shaking Harry's hand.

"Thank you, Harry," he said, looking on the verge of tears. "You've given me my family back."

"Now, now, Neville, don't be so sure," Harry said, patting Neville on the shoulder. "The final dose won't be given until the fifth. Only then will we know if the cure is permanent."

"And... And if it's not?"

"Then your father will slip back into madness, and I will have to start working on another cure," Harry said simply, only to get elbowed by Hermione. "What?" Hermione nodded toward Neville, who looked devastated, and Harry cleared his throat. "Oh, ahem... So sad..."

"Well," Neville said, looking like he was steeling himself, "we'll just have to hope that... that the final dose works."

"Very true. Honestly, I'm much too busy to start working on that old thing again," Harry said simply, pulling his trunk down and setting it down on the floor. "Now, if anyone needs me, I'll be in my lab."

With that, Harry opened the trunk and climbed into it.

–

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Dumbledore sat down again, and there was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall.

"Sleep, hah! As if I'll need it," Harry said, walking with Neville and Hermione. "I'll probably be up all night working on my new anesthetic. It's a local one, so I might self-test, since everyone's too much a coward to allow me to test... on... them..." Harry trailed off, his eyes widening, and Hermione gave an "Uh oh..."

"What's he thinking now?" she asked, gulping. Harry laughed out loud.

"I'm brilliant! I truly am! That's a perfect idea!"

And with that, Harry skipped off, cackling to himself and scaring a couple of first years that he passed on his way to Gryffindor Tower.

So, the following day, a piece of parchment had been put up on the noticeboard in the Gryffindor common room. Harry grinned widely as he looked at it, considering he was the one who had put it up.

GALLONS OF GALLEONS!

Pocket money failing to keep pace with your outgoings?

Like to earn a little extra gold?

Contact Harry Potter,

Gryffindor common room,

for simple, part-time, virtually painless jobs.

(All work is undertaken at applicant's own risk)

"Harry... What is this?" Hermione asked dangerously, and Harry grinned wider.

"The thing that will help me get test subjects!" he said happily. "And before you start trying and failing to chew me out, take a look at the parenthesis. The test subjects will know that there are a few risks, and if they come to me anyway, it's all on them. I'm a really famous scientist, you know. People will be lining up."

"How much do the test subjects get paid?" Neville wanted to know.

"Anything between one and ten Galleons," Harry said, smiling. "It all depends on what new thing I want to try out on them."

"Harry, you can't do this!" Hermione said indignantly. "What if some first year sees this?"

"If they miss the parenthesis, that's their problem, not mine," Harry said with a shrug. Then, he turned to the students in the common room. "So! Who's up for some testing?!"

He had never seen the common room clear out so quickly...

–

Harry sat in his lab, brewing something. It was a living metal that he had made himself. It could be made to mold to the shape of anything, and would move with it like rubber, but was very magic-resistant, and could protect against pretty much any spell. He had stumbled upon the formula for the metal when he was looking for the cure for madness.

The metal was bubbling slowly, and Harry took out a bottle filled with a clear liquid, along with a syringe. He filled the syringe with the liquid, then moved over to his operating table, grabbing a test tube that was filled with a silvery liquid; unicorn blood. He drank it down, then laid down on the operating table after taking off his lab coat and shirt.

Harry stuck the syringe into his chest and pumped the liquid into himself. He waited a moment and looked to the tray next to the operating table, making sure he had everything there, before tapping his chest, to feel nothing when he did. Then, he picked up his scalpel...

Ten minutes later, the lid to his trunk was opened, making him realize that he'd forgotten to lock it, and Hermione climbed down the ladder, humming happily to herself.

"Good evening, Harry. I knew I'd find you here. What are you- AAAAAAAH!" Hermione screamed as soon as she turned to Harry, who looked at her strangely.

"Oh, hey, Hermione," he said simply, then looked up into the mirror above him again, going back to work. His upper body had been vertically cut open from a little to the left of the center of his throat to near his groin, and had been pulled apart and kept that way with clamps. A Finochietto retractor had pushed the bones in his ribcage apart to show his heart beating hard in his chest. His breastbone lay on a tray next to the operating table, to be reinserted later.

Hermione gaped down at Harry, whose hands were covered in blood, his normally greenish blue surgery gloves now a complete red.

"Can I help you with something?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What are you doing to yourself?!" Hemrione shrieked, and Harry clicked his tongue.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm doing a variation of an open heart surgery," he said simply. He grabbed his wand and gave it a wave. The cast-iron goblet in which the living metal was bubbling came floating over to him, to land in his free hand.

"Why... Why are you doing this?" Hermione asked, looking slightly ill at the sight.

"I'm merely protecting my heart," Harry said. "Don't be a baby."

"Don't be a...? Don't be a baby?! Harry, you've cut yourself open!"

"Don't worry about it. I can't feel a thing," Harry said, waving her off and spattering blood on Hermione's robes. He poured the living metal into his chest, and it immediately wrapped around his heart, expanding and shrinking with every beat. Harry didn't feel a thing, despite the fact that steam was rising from his chest.

"There," Harry continued as he started turning the crank on the retractor, letting his ribs and tissue move back into place. He then took out the retractor, grabbed his breastbone and put it back in place, then tapped it with his wand, watching as the bone mended itself. He looked to Hermione. "Again, can I help you with something?"

Hermione still looked ill, and looked as though she would be sick if she opened her mouth. Harry shrugged and started removing the clamps and normal retractors, before getting to work sewing himself up.

"You've..." Hermione gulped as she looked down at the floor, seemingly only just now realizing that she was standing in a large puddle of blood. "You've lost... so much blood... How are you still alive?"

Harry shrugged again. "I drank unicorn blood."

Hermione's eyes widened, and any thought of being sick seemed to vanish from her.

"Harry! Don't you know what happens if you drink unicorn's blood?!"

"Aha, but I found a loophole," he said with a grin. "I didn't kill the unicorn, and thus won't be cursed for killing it. Now, are you going to stand there complaining about what I've done, or did you actually want something?"

"I was going to ask if you were going to come down for dinner..." Hermione said, looking disgusted as Harry kept sewing. "But I'm guessing you're not hungry?"

"I'm famished," Harry said. "Let me just finish up. You can wait outside if you want."

Hermione looked at him strangely. "Harry, if you could mend your bones, why do you insist on sewing yourself up? Can't you heal that, too?"

"And miss out on the chance of getting a wicked scar?" Harry said, making a "Pfft!" noise. "No way!"

"Could you clean up? I think I'm going to be sick..." Hermione muttered, covering her mouth and closing her eyes. Nonetheless, she opened them a tad to watch as Harry finished sewing himself up.

"Well, if you're going to be a baby about it..."

Harry grabbed his wand and gave it a wave. In the blink of an eye, all the blood disappeared. He took off his now clean surgery gloves and threw them into a corner of the lab, pushing the tray with now clean surgery tools away, and getting off the operating table.

"How do I look?" he asked Hermione, gesturing for his chest.

"Grotesque..." Hermione muttered, and Harry grinned, rubbing his hands together.

"Perfect!"

"You're mad, you know that, right?"

"I'm not mad!" Harry objected. "I'm a genius!"

"No, you're completely mental," Hermione said, shaking her head. Harry gritted his teeth as he put on his shirt, followed by his tie and lab coat, before following Hermione up the ladder.

He wasn't mad...

–

Journal, September 4th, 1994,

The living metal, henceforth known as Life, has exceeded my expectations. I had believed that once the anesthetics had passed, I would have felt some discomfort in my chest, but strangely enough I feel no such discomfort. The metal has bonded well with my heart, it seems. Hermione keeps calling me mad for what I've done. She has no idea how it irks me. I'm not mad! I am a genius scientist, not a mad scientist. Sure, I'm a bit radical, but I am not, I repeat, I am not mad!

–

Journal, September 5th, 1994,

Sixth and final dosage. According to Healer Atkinson, Frank is behaving normally, and this final dose should keep it that way. I really hope it works. I simply don't have time to bother making another cure.

On another note, the Plunger has been tested again. Side-effects may include drooling, day-dreaming, loss of feelings in the limbs, and erectile dysfunction as long as the drug is in the subject's body.

–

Journal, September 7th, 1994,

Healer Atkinson keeps monitoring Frank's condition. He seems fine, and that is a good sign. Hopefully, I won't have to brew another cure, even though I could whip one up in my sleep. I remain hopeful, however, that that won't be necessary. Neville will have his parents back with the Unicure, I'm sure of it.

In other news, my heart functions are perfectly normal. I don't even feel like I am wearing the Life around my heart. I just hope that it wasn't all in vain. After all, there is a chance that the Killing Curse can move through the arteries, which would make me proper fucked, pardon my language.

–

Journal, September 12th, 1994,

Success! Frank has shown no sign of slipping back to his madness. My work has been posted in the Daily Prophet, and Healer Atkinson has seen to it that Alice Longbottom be given the Unicure as well. More money will come pouring in, not that I need it, and I grow more famous by the second! My funding has been increased, and I can get more hard-to-come-by supplies, as the Ministry has seen fit to lift certain bans on Non-Tradeable Goods for me, given my success with the acromantula venom.

–

Journal, September 19th, 1994,

Managed to contact a wizard today, an American named Jason Casey. He breeds Re'ems, and has agreed to sell me a gallon of blood for two hundred Galleons. I believe I will make some great concoctions with that blood. It will arrive in a few days. I have never worked with Re'em blood before, but I have read that it grants the drinker immense strength. Hopefully, I'll be able to modify the effects of the blood, if I can just get to analyze it.

–

Journal, September 28th, 1994,

Finished analyzing the Re'em blood. As expected, the magical properties of the blood can be broken down and modified. However, I wonder just what I shall do with it. How should I modify it? Perhaps I should make a growth potion? It would be nice to be a bit taller, I must admit. Yes, that is what I will focus on from now on.

–

Journal, October 10th, 1994,

Haven't slept for ninety-three hours. For some reason, my brain can function even without sleep. I feel tired, yes, and exhausted, but my brain is functioning on the same level as it would be after a good night's sleep. If only I could take a good look at my own brain. The things it could teach me! I would like to study a brain at some point. I hear there is a branch in the Department of Mysteries that studies them. Oh, to see it for myself...

–

Journal, October 15th, 1994,

Managed to break down the Re'em blood. Now all I have to do is find a way to carry the strengthening properties over to a new factor, which in this case is growth. But how to do it? There are several ways to go about this, all of them just as simple, so it's very hard to choose. I do need to brush up on my alchemy, so I may as well use that method.

–

TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT

The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang
will be arriving at 6 o'clock on Friday the 30th
of October. Lessons will end half an hour early.

Students will return their bags and books to
their dormitories and assemble in front of
the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast.

Harry scratched the stitches on his throat, which he had yet to remove, as he felt they made him look a bit scary, something he liked. The notice had been put up in the entrance hall. Harry read it along with Hermione and Neville, who had started hanging around the two of them.

"Are you two ever going to tell me why Harry's throat is all stitched up?" Neville asked, and Hermione shuddered, while Harry just hummed.

"Did you guys know that one can make cigarettes from fluxweed?" Harry asked, completely ignoring Neville's question. Hermione gave him a pleading look.

"Harry, please tell me you won't start smoking!"

"There are no rules against it," Harry said, shrugging. "Apparently, when inhaled, the smoke from the fluxweed has a calming effect on the user."

"Do you think he's already...?"

"He has..." Hermione answered Neville with a sigh. "Harry, you're going to kill yourself one of these days."

"Nonsense," Harry said, waving Hermione off as he reached into his pocket, walking away from the notice on the noticeboard. He took out a long cigarette and his wand, putting the cigarette in his mouth and lighting it with his wand. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an elixir to keep an eye on."

Giving a deep bow, Harry made his way back to Gryffindor Tower, puffing on his cigarette

As soon as he entered his lab, Harry gave his wand a wave, and the quill on his journal stood up, ready to start writing.

"Journal, October Twenty-seventh, Nineteen ninety-four," he spoke as he walked up to his alchemy station, watching the bubbling, blood-red elixir in a test tube. "I have started brewing the growth-enhancing elixir. Currently, I am boiling away most of the magical properties of the Re'em blood, retaining the enhancing properties. Now I just need to add honeywater and the juices from a Giant's Root, which should bond the enhancing properties of the Re'em blood to the growing properties of the Giant's Root."

Harry picked out the two ingredients from the cabinet under the alchemy station, and then pressed the Giant's Root with a silver dagger, watching as the juices came pouring out. He took a pipette and sucked up the juices, then put two drops of the juices into the bubbling Re'em blood, before adding a splash of honeywater. Then, he left it to simmer.

The following day, Harry decided that the elixir had been simmering long enough. He took the test tube off the flame, scrutinized the dark red liquid, then waved his wand, making the quill on his journal come to life.

"Journal, October Twenty-eight, Nineteen ninety-four," he said, holding up the elixir to the light. "I have successfully finished brewing the growth elixir. I do not yet know if it will work, but it if does, the change should be permanent. I can only hope that it does work. I have estimated that the growth from the Giant's Root equals to four inches per drop. If this proves successful, I should grow to six feet, three inches. Trying now..."

Harry downed the growth elixir, then waited. A sudden pain in his stomach made him clutch the test tube so hard that it broke, the glass shards digging into his skin. He cried out in pain as he suddenly started growing taller. His legs grew longer, burning as they did, and so did his arms and his upper body. Finally, the pain stopped, and Harry was left standing there, panting.

After a few seconds of panting, Harry straightened up and put a hand on his head, humming.

"I'd say my estimation was quite correct, give or take half an inch. My muscles have grown some, too," he spoke as he took off his lab coat and his too small shirt. His body was very athletically built, whereas before his muscles had deteriorated due to lack of food. He gave his wand a wave, and his pants grew longer to fit him, and his shoes, which he had taken off before he took the elixir, grew as well to fit his feet. Then, he waved his wand over his shirt, and it too grew bigger. Then, he got dressed again, before putting a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it.

When Harry, Hermione, and Neville went down to breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, they found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts house: red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers' table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H.

"Hermione, have you noticed how Harry looks... taller lately?" Neville whispered Hermione behind Harry, who had an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth.

"Yeah, I thought it was weird, but he must have developed something to make him grow."

"Very astute, Hermione," Harry said, grinning and turning to look at the two. "And my ears work just fine. Better, in fact. I recently developed a growth elixir that would permanently make myself grow. I only used a little. I don't want to be a giant, after all."

"So, why is your throat all stitched up?" Neville asked, and Hermione shuddered again, while Harry once more ignored him.

"Oh, look, breakfast," Harry said happily, moving over to the Gryffindor table.

"Alright, since you're ignoring my question, how about we focus on something else, like Potions?" Neville said as the trio sat down.

"What about Potions?" Harry asked, grabbing a piece of toast and eating it.

"I don't know if I can brew a good enough antidote," Neville said nervously. "And since Snape said he might poison one of us I just know he's going to poison me."

"You'll be fine, Neville. You just need to believe in yourself," Hermione said kindly, smiling at Neville. Harry blinked in realization.

"Yeah..." he said slowly. "What you need... is confidence... You need to feel good about yourself. Great, even!"

"You're not testing anything on Neville, Harry," Hermione said immediately.

"This wouldn't be a test. This concoction is tested and ready. I just want to give him a bit of Speed Needle, Speedle for short."

"No, Harry."

"Oh, Hermione, always the responsible one," Harry said, patting Hermione on the shoulder. Then, he stealthily took a syringe out of his pocket, removed the protective cover from the needle, then stuck the syringe in Hermione's neck when she bent down to eat her bacon.

"Ow!" was all Hermione could say, before her head fell onto the plate, and she was fast asleep.

"Um... is she going to be alright?" Neville asked cautiously as Harry rose from his seat, grabbing Neville's arm.

"She'll wake up angry in about half an hour, in time for our first class. Now, let's roll."

With that, he pulled Neville with him out of the Great Hall.

–

"What?"

Hermione was glaring at Harry in the dungeons during their Potions lesson.

"I can't believe you did that..." Hermione muttered crossly as she added a couple of ingredients to her antidote.

"Oh, you can be such a baby at times, Hermione," Harry said, waving her off. "I just needed you out of the way so I could give Neville some confidence, or you would never have allowed it. Besides, the Speed Needle improves one's concentration as well, and just look at him."

Over by his cauldron, Neville was smiling to himself, stirring his antidote as he kept glancing at the blackboard, double, triple, and quadruple checking to make sure that he had added all the right ingredients. Harry smiled to himself. His Speedle was working wonders on shy Neville. And if word spread, he could probably get some volunteers for testing other concoctions.

Snape moved through the dungeon, stopping at Neville's antidote and staring down his hooked nose at it. Unlike every other time, he couldn't seem to find anything wrong with it, so like with Hermione and Harry, he didn't comment, and instead just moved away from him. He couldn't falsely accuse Harry or Hermione of helping him, either, as they were well out of whispering range.

After Potions was over, Harry didn't just leave his bag in the Gryffindor Tower. He stayed there, heading into his lab to perform some more surgery on himself. The human body fascinated him, but as he couldn't just pick someone up and slice them open, he had to make do with himself.

That was why one could find Harry once more lying on his operating table, with an X sliced into his throat. The flaps of skin had been pulled apart by clamps, and he was currently staring up at the mirror above himself, loosening his vocal cords with his wand, something that would hopefully give him a deeper voice.

His work done, he healed his throat with magic, then got to work sewing himself up.

As to the real answer to Hermione's question as to why he insisted on sewing himself up, it was that although he wasn't a mad scientist, that didn't mean he couldn't look like one.

Sitting up and stretching, Harry cleaned up the blood, then got dressed once more, before heading out of his lab.

Noise was coming from the Great Hall as Harry approached it, entering to find the visiting schools already there, and all the students had taken their seats. The Beauxbatons lot, dressed in powder-blue robes, were sitting at the Ravenclaw table, and the Durmstrang lot, wearing blood red robes, were sitting at the Slytherin table. Harry moved over to the Gryffindor table and sat down between Neville and Hermione.

"What did I miss?" he asked, feeling a bit strange. He wasn't used to hearing this voice, after all. Neither were Hermione or Neville, as they both looked at him strangely.

"What happened to your voice?" Hermione wanted to know.

"And why is your throat even more stitched up?" Neville asked.

"I changed it," Harry said happily. "I've always wanted my voice to be just a tad deeper, and by loosening my vocal cords slightly, I managed to do so."

"You mean you went and started cutting into your throat?" Hermione asked, wide-eyed, a look that Neville mimicked.

"You cut your throat?" he asked in shock, apparently having come down from the Speedle. "Why would you do that?"

"I just told you, I wanted a deeper voice," Harry said, grabbing his plate and helping himself to some bouillabaisse. "Ooh, French cuisine among the rest today. Excellent. I'm starving."

"Why would you cut yourself open like that?" Neville asked, still in shock.

"Well, since no one would probably want to volunteer, I have to cut myself open in order to study the human body. So far, I've only read about it," Harry said simply.

"Suddenly, I'm not so hungry..." Neville muttered, but Harry clapped him on the back.

"Nonsense, Neville. Just ignore what I just said, and focus on your food!"

"Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?" came a soft voice, and Harry looked over his shoulder to see a girl with a long sheet of silvery-blond hair that fell almost to her waist. She had large, deep blue eyes, and very white, even teeth.

"You can have it," Harry said, nodding.

"You 'ave finished wiz it?"

"No, I just said you can have it to be funny," Harry deadpanned. "Of course we've finished with it."

The girl huffed, before taking the bowl of bouillabaisse and walking back to the Ravenclaw table. Harry looked to the others, rolling is eyes.

"Can you believe that?"

Neville was staring after the girl, his mouth slightly agape. Then, he snapped out of it, and looked at Harry in confusion.

"What?"

"What's wrong with you?" Hermione asked, looking at Neville strangely.

"I don't know. All of a sudden, all I could think about was that girl... There's something funny about her," Neville said, looking over to the Ravenclaw table, where the girl was shooting Harry a dirty look. Harry, however, just grinned and waved.

"Perhaps she's a veela?" Harry suggested, shrugging. "After all, that could be why I didn't react to her. I've already built up a resistance to the veela allure after the Quidditch World Cup."

Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the hall now.

"The moment has come," Dumbledore said, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket..."

–

Well, there you have it, the sixth chapter! Please leave a review and tell me what you think!

7. Chapter 7

Hi, all! ZenoNoKyuubi here with a fresh chapter straight out of my head! Please enjoy!

–

The lid to Harry's trunk opened, and Hermione's voice was heard saying, "Is it safe to come down?"

Harry answered with a calm, "Mm..."

Slowly, Hermione climbed down the ladder and found herself staring at Harry clad in only his lab coat and a pair of black boxers with white skulls on them. He was lying on his operating table, staring up at the ceiling much like a dead body, and would have once more made a convincing one had it not been for the fact that he was breathing. Hermione sighed.

"What have you taken now?"

"Just some Plunger," Harry said, not looking at Hermione, still staring up at the ceiling.

"And what are you doing?"

"I'm emulating a corpse, and I've made a grand discovery about myself."

"And what is that, Harry?"

"I never want to die."

"What?" Hermione asked, her eyes widening. Harry finally turned his head to look at her, looking a bit distraught.

"Corpses don't think. They never use their brain, which shrivels up and turns to dust. Can you imagine how horrible that must be, to spend every day like Ron, or worse, Malfoy?"

"I don't think you should inject anything more into your body, Harry... You've abused it enough..." Hermione said cautiously, approaching Harry. "Now, come on, it's about time for the feast."

"Feast?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, Harry, the feast? The goblet is going to pick the champions for the tournament?"

"Oh, the tournament..." Harry said, going back to staring up at the ceiling. "I don't think I want to go. I'd rather stay here and contemplate ways to keep death away. Maybe I should..." With that, Harry descended into incoherent mumbling.

"Oh, no, you're not staying in this lab any longer," Hermione said, grabbing Harry's coat and pulling him up in a sitting position. "Now, get dressed, and let's go."

"So forceful..." Harry muttered. He stared at Hermione's backside as she bent over to pick up his clothes. "Hermione, I have a proposition. A mutually beneficial one at that."

"No," Hermione said, straightening up and turning to Harry, who raised an eyebrow.

"You haven't even heard it yet."

Hermione sighed. "Fine... What is it?"

"Simple, I have some spare silicon. How would you like to have larger breasts? You get more sex appeal, and I get to operate on you-" was all Harry could say before Hermione threw his clothes at his face and stomped off toward the ladder.

"Get dressed, Harry!"

"If you'd like, I can use some on your backside, too!" Harry called after Hermione, only to get a frustrated cry in response. "I thought she would've been thrilled about the prospect of me cutting someone other than myself open for a change..." he muttered as he started pulling on his pants, falling off the operating table and hitting his head on the floor. "Oooow!"

A yawning Harry made his way into the Great Hall, which was filled with excited chatter, with Hermione, joining Neville at the Gryffindor table.

"Hey, Neville, how's your mum?" Harry asked, getting a strange look from Neville.

"Don't you know? I thought you kept in contact with Healer Atkinson?"

"Meh, I lost interest in the case as soon as I found out my cure worked," Harry said, shrugging. "I've already moved on to other things."

"That's... That's all it was to you?" Neville asked. "You were never actually interested in curing my parents, just interested in making a cure?"

"Of course I was interested," Harry said as he ladled food onto his plate, deciding to eat healthily for once. "But now I've made the cure, so now I have other revolutionary things to create. I care about Lupin as well, but after he became a normal human, he became... well, frankly kinda boring."

"I... I see," Neville said, his face clearly showing that he didn't understand at all.

"In short, Harry cares, in his own way," Hermione translated simply. Neville gave off an "Oh," as he went back to his food.

"Mm," Harry hummed as he started eating his food. He was still affected by the Plunger, so he still felt a bit slow.

Once all the plates were returned to their original spotless state, there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the hall, which died away almost instantly as Dumbledore got to his feet.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," Dumbledore said. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber," he indicated the door behind the staff table, "where they will be receiving their first instructions."

Harry took a deep, bored breath as Dumbledore gave a great sweeping wave of his wand, and at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness.

Oh, how Harry wished he could just go back to his lab and continue contemplating ways to stave off death... Looking around, he noticed that everyone were staring at the goblet, so he swiftly (as swift as one could be while hopped up on Plunger) slipped out of his seat and crept through the darkness, through the doors into the entrance hall. Then, he made his way back to Gryffindor Tower, where he climbed into his trunk and walked over to his operating table, lying down on it and going back to staring up at the ceiling.

The Philosopher's Stone was one way to stave off death. It was his best bet when it came to immortality, as he had already made so much progress in the field of alchemy.

In his boredom, Harry reached for a scalpel and a Weitlaner retractor, before taking out a syringe and a bottle of anesthetics, injecting in into his left forearm. He sat up and waited for the anesthetics to take effect, before slicing the scalpel vertically down his wrist and using the retractor to open the cut and take a look at the tendons leading to his fingers. He flexed his fingers, smiling as he saw the tendons move. This was what he enjoyed most of all in the world, finding out how things worked.

The lid to Harry trunk opened suddenly, and Hermione came climbing down the ladder.

"Harry! Your name came- AAAAH!" she screamed as she saw what Harry was doing. "What are you doing?!"

"I'm just taking a look, Hermione, don't be a baby," Harry said, loosening the retractor and taking out a needle, thread, and a needle-holder, before getting to work sewing up his cut.

Hermione shook her head to clear it of thoughts about Harry cutting himself open.

"Harry, your name came out of the goblet!"

"Rubbish," Harry said simply. "I never entered my name, even though it would have been ridiculously easy to get past the Age Line."

"Well, someone entered your name, because it came out of the goblet as the fourth champion!" Hermione said as Harry finished sewing himself up. "They're waiting for you in the Great Hall, come on!"

"Fourth champion?" Harry asked, getting off the operating table. "Of course, how simple. Confound the goblet into thinking four schools should compete," he said in realization, following Hermione up the ladder. "That would ensure that my name came out of the goblet, rather than entering me as the Hogwarts champion..."

He followed Hermione down to the Great Hall, where he found everyone sitting in silence. Each and every head turned to the door as Harry and Hermione entered, Harry stretching lazily.

"Up here, Harry," Dumbledore said in a strong voice. He wasn't smiling, and for good reason.

Harry nodded and walked up along the tables up to the teachers' table, then turned and headed through the door behind it, finding himself in a smaller room, lined with paintings of witches and wizards. A handsome fire was roaring in the fireplace opposite him.

The faces in the portraits turned to look at him as he entered. He saw a wizened witch flit out of the frame of her picture and into the one next to it, which contained a wizard with a walrus mustache. The wizened witch started whispering in his ear.

Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, and the veela girl were grouped around the fire.

The veela looked around when Harry walked in and threw back her sheet of long, silvery hair.

"What is it?" she asked. "Do zey want us back in ze..." The girl trailed off as she looked at Harry, who just hummed as he moved over to one of the armchairs in the room, sitting down in it and looking over himself. His left sleeve and part of the left side of his coat were all bloody after he had cut open his wrist. Oh yeah, he had forgotten to clean up. Shrugging, he took out a cigarette and lit it with his wand, before giving it a wave and watching as the blood disappeared from his clothes.

There was a sound of scurrying feet, and Ludo Bagman entered the room.

"Extraordinary!" he muttered. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen... lady," he added, approaching the fireside and addressing the three champions. "May I introduce, incredible though it may seem, the fourth Triwizard champion?"

Viktor Krum straightened up. His surly face darkened as he surveyed Harry. Cedric looked nonplussed. He looked from Bagman to Harry and back again as though sure he must have misheard what Bagman said. The veela girl, however, tossed her hair, smiling, and said, "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."

"Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"

"But there has been some mistake," Harry said, puffing on his cigarette as he stood up. Standing at his full height, he was taller than Bagman by an inch, and he surveyed Bagman through his glasses, which reflected the light from the fire. "You see, I didn't enter."

"W-Well... Your name came out of the goblet... I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage... It's down in the rules, you're obliged..."

The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people came in: Dumbledore, followed closely by Mr. Crouch, Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Snape.

A heated argument immediately broke out, about Harry, who the headteachers of the other schools claimed had cheated his way into the tournament. Harry, in the meantime, slumped back into his armchair and sat puffing on his cigarette, watching the spectacle. He found it curious that no one seemed to ask him his opinion on this whole thing. Finally, Dumbledore seemed to realize this, as he turned to Harry and looked down at him, and Harry looked right back into his eyes.

"Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" he asked calmly.

"No," Harry said, aware that everybody was watching him closely. Snape made a soft noise of disbelief in the shadows.

"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?"

"No, and that wouldn't have simply done it, would it?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. "I mean, someone obviously confounded the goblet to think that there were four schools competing. And before you ask, no, I didn't confound the goblet," he added upon seeing Karkaroff open his mouth.

"But of course, 'e is lying!" Madame Maxime cried.

"I think there is an easy way to solve this," Harry said, rising and staring defiantly up at Madame Maxime. "I simply won't compete. I am much to busy to bother with this silly little tournament."

"But you must," came the curt voice of Mr. Crouch, who stood half in the shadows, looking particularly corpse-like in the half-light. "We must follow the rules, and the rules clearly state that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."

"Well, Barty knows the rulebook-" Bagman started, but Harry interrupted.

"You seem to be unfamiliar with magical contracts, Mr. Crouch," he said simply, taking a long drag on his cigarette before continuing. "Magical contracts can only be entered into willingly. I have not willingly entered this silly competition, so I'm not bound to do anything. Now, if you will all excuse me, I have some work to do."

With that, Harry brushed past everyone and exited the room. He didn't really have any work to do, but it was a good excuse to leave them.

–

"What I want to know," Hermione said the next day, sitting in Harry's lab, "is who would want to enter you into the Triwizard Tournament?"

"No idea," Harry said, yawning.

"Haven't you slept?"

"No, I've been busy."

"With?"

"Trying to make a Philosopher's Stone," Harry said, sitting on his operating table. Hermione was sitting in the only chair in the lab. "It's not going as well as I had hoped."

"How is it going?" Hermione asked, and Harry's shoulders slumped.

"Not at all. I've made no progress whatsoever. The Philosopher's Stone remains elusive."

Sighing, Harry lit a cigarette and puffed on it slowly.

"Now, let's focus on the Triwizard Tournament again. Someone wanted me entered, but why?"

"That's what I just asked," Hermione said, only to get a "Hm..." from Harry.

"My servant..." he muttered, getting a strange look from Hermione.

"What?"

"Oh, just a dream I had this summer about Voldemort," Harry said. "He spoke about his faithful servant at Hogwarts, and how I was as good as his..."

"So... You-Know-Who entered you? Or his servant did?"

"Probably."

"And who's that? Snape, you think?"

"I doubt it. Snape hates me, but I doubt he'd willingly follow Voldemort while working for Dumbledore."

"So, we have no clue as to who this servant is?"

"None whatsoever," Harry said, lying down on the operating table, his hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. He sighed again. "Are you sure you won't let me operate on you?"

"No, Harry."

"You won't even feel a thing."

"No."

"You'd look amazing with larger jubblies."

"Harry!"

A smirk slowly formed on Harry's face, and he glanced sideways at Hermione.

"I could do something about your hair..." he spoke in a sing-song voice. Hermione blinked and looked at him, appearing contemplative for a moment. Then, she shook her head.

"No, Harry."

"Your teeth?"

"I'm not allowed to magically alter them."

"What about that cute mole right around your groin area?"

Hermione's eyes widened.

"How do you know about that?!" she demanded, but Harry just smiled mischievously at her.

–

"Wotcher, Harry!"

Harry stopped as he walked through the school, and turned to see none other than Tonks approaching. She was grinning happily at him, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Tonks, what are you doing here?"

"Woah, love the new voice," Tonks said, then seemed to notice that she had to look up at him. "And the growth spurt. As for why I'm here, old Mad-Eye and I have been brought in for some extra security. So, what's with the..." Tonks trailed off and gestured for her own throat, then nodded toward Harry, who reached up and ran a finger along the stitches on his throat.

"Oh, this. I cut myself open and loosened my vocal cords to give me a deeper voice, and I covered my heart with a living metal, then I stitched myself up, instead of healing myself using magic, so that I could look a bit intimidating."

Tonks blinked. "You're joking right?" Harry just loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, opening it to show that the vertical stitching went all the way down into the waistband of his pants. Tonks' eyes widened. "You're not joking... Blimey, Harry, that looks bloody wicked, I have to admit!"

"Thanks, Tonks," Harry said, buttoning his shirt again. "Care to go for a walk?"

"Sure," Tonks said, grinning as she looped her arm with Harry's, leading him away. "So, what are you working on nowadays?"

"I'm actually working on a homemade morphine."

"Morphine?" Tonks asked, blinking. "What's that?"

"Morphine is a potent opiate analgesic drug that is used to relieve severe pain," Harry said.

"And is it hard to make?"

"Well, the morphine is biosynthesized from the tetrahydroisoquinoline reticuline. It is converted into salutaridine, thebaine, and oripavine. The involucrated enzymes in this process are the salutaridine synthase, salutaridine: NADPH 7-oxidoreductase and the codeinone reductase." Harry glanced at Tonks to see that he had completely lost her. "Is this making any fucking sense to you, Tonks?"

"It's bloody Greek, Harry," Tonks deadpanned. "Greek," she said for emphasis. "Anyway, so I hear you were entered into the tournament. You're not going to compete?"

"I don't have time for a silly tournament," Harry said, repeating what he had said the night his name came out of the goblet. "I am a revolutionary scientist, not a show-monkey."

"Speaking of monkeys, how's Zeus?"

"He's just fine. He loves my sedatives. I think he may have become addicted to them. Which is strange in itself, as I have made sure my concoctions are not addictive."

"You're going to test that morphing stuff on him, then?"

"Morphine. And yes, I will."

Harry took out a cigarette and lit it, and Tonks smirked.

"Smoking now, too? You get to be even more of a bad boy for every second that passes. I like it."

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but just then they saw Hermione coming out of a classroom at the end of the corridor. She turned and headed away from them.

"Oh, Hermione!" Harry called.

"No, Harry!" Hermione called back without looking at him, continuing to the end of the corridor, then turning out of sight.

"What was that all about?" Tonks wanted to know, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, I've been wanting to cut Hermione open, to see just how the human body works. It's a bit of a bother to do it on myself."

"Speaking of how something works, have you figured something out from my blood sample about my metamorphing?"

"I have not. I know your cells are in a constant state of change, but I don't know how exactly a metamorphmagus works. I'd love to cut you open and find out, though," Harry joked, grinning a bit madly. Tonks looked thoughtful.

"Would I get stitches?" she asked, making Harry blink. Thinking she was obviously joking, he shrugged.

"Only if you'd want to."

"Make sure I don't get a scar, and you've got yourself a test subject," Tonks said, and Harry went wide-eyed, stopping in his tracks.

"You... You mean it?" he asked in shock. "You'll let me look inside you?"

"I find it amusing that you're more excited about seeing my organs than seeing me topless, but yes," Tonks said, grinning. "I don't look it, but I'm a bit of a science nut myself, you know."

Immediately, Harry grabbed Tonks' arm and ran off, back to Gryffindor Tower. He pulled her into the common room and up the stairs before she could even have so much as a look around. They entered the fourth year dormitory, and Harry led her over to his trunk, opening it.

"After you," he said, gesturing for the ladder.

"What a gentleman," Tonks said with a smirk, climbing down the ladder with Harry following, closing and locking the trunk as soon as he got inside it.

"Would you like to be awake or asleep during the operation?" Harry asked, feeling it was better to ask, considering she was a bit of a science nut. She might want to watch, after all.

"Asleep, of course. I don't want to feel anything."

"Oh, right, wizard-raised," Harry said. "No, I can give you a local anesthetic, powerful stuff. You'll stay awake, but you'll feel nothing from the neck down."

"So... I can watch you cutting me open?" Tonks asked, hopping up on the operating table.

"That you can," Harry said with a nod, putting on a pair of surgery gloves.

"Wicked. Then I'd rather be awake," Tonks said, starting to undress. "I take it you want me to take my clothes off?" she asked with a wink. Harry grinned.

"Unless you want to get blood all over your clothes, yes."

Tonks undressed, and soon she was sitting on the operating table wearing nothing but a pair of white panties with a teddy bear head on them. She ran her hands over her body, cupping her perky C-cup breasts.

"So, what do you think?"

"I think you're a beautiful specimen," Harry said with a grin, pushing his tray with operating tools over to the table. "It shall be a delight to cut you open. Lie down, please."

Tonks laid down, giving an "Ooh!" when the cool metal touched her skin. Harry took a bottle and a syringe out of his coat, filling the syringe with the clear liquid.

"Now, you will feel a prick, and then you will go numb," Harry said as he held the needle over Tonks' flawless skin. "Are you ready?"

Tonks nodded. "Ready when you are."

Harry grinned widely as he stuck the syringe into Tonks' skin, before pressing the plunger, injecting her with the anesthetic. Then, he waited for about two minutes, before poking Tonks' left breast.

"Can you feel that?"

"No," Tonks said, giving a grin. "This is so wicked! So, you could pretty much do anything to my body right now, and I wouldn't feel it?"

"Nope," Harry said, flicking Tonks' nipple with his finger. "See?"

"Wicked," Tonks whispered, laying back. "Alright, get to work."

"So eager to get started, I like that," Harry said, picking up a scalpel. "I think we'll first take a look at the heart, shall we?"

"Let's," Tonks said with a nod. "How are you going to go about doing that? Woah!" she exclaimed when Harry started cutting vertically down her chest. "I can't feel a thing!"

"Wicked, right?" Harry asked with a grin. "As for how... Well, the quickest way to a woman's heart is through her chest," he said as he placed clamps on the edges of the cut and used a Weitlaner retractor to spread the skin and underlying tissue. He then completely opened her chest up, revealing her breastbone and ribcage.

"I'm surprised you haven't been sick yet," Harry said as he picked up a sternum saw, converted to run on magic. Tonks grinned.

"I've seen worse," she said as Harry started sawing through her breastbone. "Hey, is that alright?"

"Don't worry, mending bones is child's play for me," Harry said over the noise of the saw. He then pulled out the breastbone and inserted his Finochietto retractor and inserted in in Tonks' chest, turning the crank and pushing aside tissue and bone to bare the heart for them both to see.

"Voila!" Harry said, pulling the mirror he had used when operating on himself over so that Tonks could get a clear view of her own heart. "There's your heart, beating soundly in your chest."

"Wicked," Tonks whispered for the fifth time that day. "This is unreal..."

"Now, time to do some research," Harry said as he whipped out his wand, tapping his glasses with it, before poking and prodding Tonks' heart with it. "Can you metamorph your heart? Make it smaller, or bigger?"

"Now that I can see it, maybe," Tonks said, scrunching up her nose in concentration. Harry watched as her heart slowly grew larger and larger, until it stopped when it was about two thirds larger than it had previously been.

"Now return it to its normal size," Harry said, and Tonks nodded, scrunching her nose up once more. The heart shrunk, and Harry went back to prodding her with the wand.

"So, how long with this anesthetic last?" Tonks asked as Harry continued his ministrations.

"I gave you enough to keep your body numb for an hour," Harry said, pulling his wand back. "Well, I think I have enough data now."

"But you hardly even did anything..."

"I did enough. Now, I want to try something," Harry said as he turned the crank of the retractor, easing her ribs back into place. He then put in her breastbone and waved his wand, mending the bone, before removing all the clamps and closing the incision. "I want you to heal yourself."

"What?" Tonks asked, blinking.

"A metamorphmagus is a limited shapeshifter," Harry said, "so logically, you should be able to close the cut on your own. Try it."

Tonks closed her eyes and furrowed her brow as she concentrated. Slowly, ever so slowly, the cut started closing. Then, it stopped, and Tonks let out the breath she had been holding in.

"Did it work?" she asked, looking up into the mirror.

"A little," Harry said, running his finger over Tonks' skin where it had just had a cut. There was no trace of said cut. "Maybe it would be easier to close wounds if you could actually feel them," he theorized as he ran his wand over the incision, watching as it closed. Giving his wand another wave, all the blood in the room disappeared.

"So, now what?" Tonks asked.

"Now you'll just have to lie there until you regain feeling in your limbs," Harry said, taking off his gloves and throwing them in a trash bin. He then walked over to his alchemy station, getting to work.

"You never take a break, do you?" Tonks asked, watching him.

"Where's the fun in taking a break?" Harry wanted to know as he stopped for a moment to consider what to do. "I am a revolutionary scientist, like I said, not a break-taker."

"Everyone needs a break sometimes," Tonks said, and Harry shrugged, not looking at her. She laid her head back on the operating table. "Well, I think I'm going to take a nap. Wake me up when it's time for dinner."

"Will do."

–

Journal, November 1st, 1994,

Cut open Tonks today. She was strangely eager to volunteer, and she was speaking so strangely. Was she... flirting with me? I must look into that further. If she was flirting, how do I respond? If asked, I would be the first to admit that she is a beautiful woman, who could only get more beautiful should she think just the thought of it. Not to mention her intriguing metamorphing.

On that topic, I made several important discoveries regarding metamorphmagi today. First, a metamorphmagus can metamorph not only their appearance, but their organs as well. Second, a metamorphmagus can heal themselves by thinking but a thought, provided that they can see and feel the wound, thanks to their limited shapeshifting skills. Third, a metamorphmagus cannot change into the opposite sex. Fourth, magical scans show that the source of the metamorphing ability is a separate magical core, which means that a Metamorphmagus has two magical cores, which would explain why the ability cannot be duplicated.

–

Journal, November 4th, 1994,

The school has reacted badly toward me, believing I entered myself in the Triwizard Tournament. Hopefully, that will all blow over after the first task, when they find me in the crowd, rather than with the champions, competing. Anyway, my morphine continues to elude me. So far, I have made three different kinds of morphine, and none of them have the desired effect. Sure, they relieve pain, but not on the level that I would have wished for...

–

Journal, November 7th, 1994,

Although cutting Tonks open gave me a lot of practice, I felt that it wasn't nearly enough. So, due to a lack of people willing to allow me to cut them open, I have decided to once more operate on myself. I shall continue to do so until I get someone else to do it on, or until I have simply had enough practice. I rather doubt the latter will happen, however.

–

"AAAAAAAH!"

Hermione screamed once more as she entered Harry's lab. Once again she found him cutting himself up. This time, he had cut an X over his abdomen, and had opened himself up. He had also, before, cut an X into his chest, as he now had stitching there as well.

"Oh, hello, Hermione, is that how you're always going to greet me when you enter my lab?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow as he stared at Hermione, who was opening and closing her mouth, obviously not yet used to seeing Harry all cut open.

"Why do you keep doing that to yourself?!" Hermione shrieked, and Harry shrugged.

"Curious," he said simply. "Well, I've found out just about all I need from this. Time to stitch myself up." He closed the flaps of skin that he had pulled apart after taking the retractor out of his stomach, and got to work sewing up his wounds. He looked to Hermione. "Did you want something?"

"Yes..." Hermione muttered, looking disgusted as Harry pushed the needle through his flesh. "But for the life of me, I can't remember..."

"Just relax and think back to what you were doing before you can here and saw my innards."

Hermione looked ill at the mere thought of seeing Harry's innards.

–

Well, there you have it, the sixth chapter! Please leave a review and tell me what you think!

8. Chapter 8

Hi, all! ZenoNoKyuubi here with a fresh chapter straight out of my head! Please enjoy!

–

When Harry, Hermione, and Neville arrived at Snape's dungeon after lunch on November thirteenth, they found the Slytherins already waiting outside, each and every one of them wearing a large badge on the front of his or her robes. They all bore the same message, in luminous red letters that burnt brightly in the dimly lit underground passage:

Support CEDRIC DIGGORY

The REAL Hogwarts Champion!

"Like them, Potter?" Malfoy asked loudly as Harry approached. "And this isn't all they do... look!"

He pressed his badge into his chest, and the message upon it vanished, to be replaced by another one, which glowed green.

POTTER STINKS

The Slytherins howled with laughter. Each of them pressed their badges too, until the message POTTER STINKS was shining brightly all around Harry, who put a smile on his face and looked at Malfoy as though he was a child at kindergarten who had just drawn a picture.

"D'aw, did you make that all by yourself, Malfoy? Good boy," he praised, walking over to Malfoy and patting him on the shoulder. "It's just too bad daddy dearest hasn't taught you to rise above childish shenanigans. I don't have time for that."

With that, Harry turned away from Malfoy and walked over to Hermione.

"What was that, Potter?" Malfoy asked, and Harry turned back to him to see his pale eyes narrowed.

"Oh, your hearing isn't too good, I see," Harry said. "I said, I don't have time for your childish games, Malfoy. Come see me again when you have all grown up, ready to fling a couple of hexes or curses at me. Then we'll talk."

"Harry, what are you doing?" Neville whispered in Harry's ear. None of the other Gryffindors had shown up yet, and the Slytherins were glaring dangerously at Harry, who grinned rather madly.

"No teachers here, Slytherins," he said as he took out his wand. "Who wants to have a go?"

Before anyone could do anything, however, the door to the Potions classroom opened, and Snape stepped out of it. His gaze immediately landed on Harry's wand.

"Potter, what do you think you're doing?"

"Holding my wand, sir," Harry said simply. "That's not allowed?"

"Put that thing away," Snape snapped, heading back into the classroom, followed by the students. The other Gryffindors arrived just in time to enter before the door magically closed.

"Antidotes!" Snape said, looking around at them all, his cold black eyes glittering unpleasantly. "You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then, we will be selecting someone on whom to test one..."

Snape's eyes met Harry's, but Harry didn't flinch. He just gave a wide grin, which seemed to surprise Snape. Harry was probably the only student to have ever grinned at him when he looked at them.

Just then, a knock on the dungeon door was heard, and in stepped Colin Creevey, who edged into the room, beaming at Harry, and walked up to Snape's desk at the front of the room.

"Yes?" Snape said curtly.

"Please, sir, I'm supposed to take Harry upstairs."

Snape stared down his hooked nose at Colin, whose smile faded from his eager face.

"Potter has another hour of Potions to complete," Snape said coldly. "He will come upstairs when this class is finished."

Colin went pink.

"Sir... sir, Mr. Bagman wants him," he said nervously. "All the champions have got to go, I think they want to take photographs..."

"Very well, very well," Snape snapped. "Potter, leave your things here, I want you back down here later to test your antidote."

"Please, sir, he's got to take his things with him," Colin squeaked. "All the champions-"

"Very well!" Snape said. "Potter, take your bag and get out of my sight."

"Actually, sir, as I'm not competing, I don't have to go anywhere. I'd be happy to stay here and test my antidote."

"Very well, Potter," Snape said, waving Colin off.

"But... But Harry..." Colin said, looking conflicted as to what to do. "All the champions-"

"But I'm not a champion, Colin. Now get out of here, you're disrupting my class."

"Um... alright..." Colin said meekly, before making his way out of the room.

Not even five minutes later, the door opened once more, and Ludo Bagman.

"Professor Snape! So sorry to bother you, but I came to collect Harry."

"I'm not going," Harry said immediately. "Going would mean that I accept that magical contract, and I don't, so I won't go."

"But, Harry, we've got to take pictures," Bagman said, obviously not noticing the deadly expression on Snape's face. Harry noticed, but just didn't care as he stirred his antidote.

"I said no, Mr. Bagman. Now, you're disturbing me in my work," Harry said, then glanced dangerously at Bagman. "You do not want to disturb me in my work..."

"V-Very well, then," Bagman said, sounding almost as meek as Colin as he backed away from Harry. "I suppose we'll just have to, uh, go on without you. Take care of yourself, Harry."

With that, he left the classroom.

After the Potions class, Harry was stopped as he came up from the dungeons by a very cheery woman's voice.

"Wotcher, Harry!"

Harry looked down the corridor to see Tonks approaching. He smiled.

"Oh, hi, Tonks," he said, waving at her. Then, he gestured for Hermione. "Tonks, this is Hermione. Hermione, this is Tonks."

"Nice to meet you," Hermione said, smiling at Tonks. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Really?"

"It's just a saying," Harry told Tonks. "I've only told her you're my friend, and that you're an Auror and metamorphmagus."

"I see. You haven't told her about the intimate moment we shared two weeks ago?" Tonks asked, gasping. "I'm hurt, Harry."

Hermione blushed slightly. "In... Intimate moment?"

"It's not like that," Harry said, glancing at her. "I cut her open. Though I did get to see her breasts."

"Tell me the truth, did you like them?" Tonks asked, puffing out her chest.

"Like I said, you are a beautiful specimen," Harry said with a grin. He looked to Hermione, who was blushing brightly now. He nodded toward Hermione's almost C-cup chest. "The offer still stands."

Hermione seemed to forget all about her embarrassment, which was replaced with anger.

"No means no, Harry!" she snapped, before spinning around and walking off. Tonks stared after her as she walked.

"What's with her?"

"She refuses to have her breasts enlarged," Harry said with a shrug.

"What did you do to your hands?" Tonks asked, nodding toward Harry's hands, which were stitched up from between his thumbs and index fingers down to his wrists, and across the hands from the center of the vertical cuts.

"Oh, this?" Harry asked, pulling back his sleeve to show that both the underside and top of his forearm were stitched up along vertical cuts as well. "I've been researching the human body. I've been trying to find out as much as possible about it. Currently, I am researching the musculature. I've done the same to my right leg."

"Looks wicked," Tonks said, nodding slowly. "I approve."

"So, what do you do all day? Just patrolling the school?"

"Pretty much. It would get boring, but it's always nice to run into you," Tonks said with a wink.

"Are you flirting with me?" Harry asked, blinking. Tonks laughed.

"Caught onto that, have you?"

"Then you were flirting with me two weeks ago?"

"You're a clever one, Harry," Tonks said with another wink. "I got undressed for you, how could you not have been sure about that?"

"I thought you were just eager to get cut open," Harry said, shrugging. "I'm a fourteen-year-old wizard who's spent his days growing up doing science, not studying human mating habits. What do you want from me?"

Tonks snorted. "Mating habits?"

"Wasn't it?"

"Well, yeah, but it just sounds weird when you say it like that." Tonks laughed, clapping a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Well, take care, Harry. Maybe we'll see each other later. For now, maybe you should research 'mating habits?'"

Laughing still Tonks winked and walked off, leaving Harry standing there, thoughtful.

"Research the mating habits, eh?" he spoke to himself, rubbing his chin in thought. "Interesting..."

–

Journal, November 14th, 1994,

Started my study into the mating habits of the modern Homo Sapiens. My studies target the sixteen-year-old male and seventeen-year-old female. Preliminary studies show that small talk is a very important stage in the process of attracting a female. The male proceeds to engage in small talk to grab the interest of the female, usually, and cleverly, talking about that which she wants to talk about. The female can then respond favorably, or badly, depending on the level of attraction toward the male.

My targets, Fred Weasley and Angelina Johnson, have shown a moderate amount of attraction toward each other. Designation Fred, much like a bird showing off his plumage, dazzles Angelina with magic tricks to make her laugh. Fred then decides to ask her to go to Hogsmeade with him next weekend. I shall continue my research then.

–

"AAAAAAAH!"

"You know, that's starting to become really annoying," Harry said as he was once more greeted with a scream from Hermione. This time, however, he could understand why she had screamed. He had cut himself from his right earlobe, curving up at his cheekbone, and straight up the bridge of his nose up into his hairline at the center of his forehead. The skin and flesh had been pulled back by a clamp that had been tucked behind his ear, to show his whole right eye in its socket.

"What are you doing now?!" Hermione shrieked as she covered her eyes. "You've cut open your face, Harry!"

"So I have," Harry said, prodding his right eye with his wand. "You're very observant, Hermione. Though one would think you'd be used to seeing me all cut up by now."

"Why are you doing this to yourself, Harry? It can't be just for research..." Hermione muttered, glancing at him between her fingers.

"You're right, I'm also doing it because I want to appear a bit intimidating," Harry said. "Why else do you think I stitch myself up instead of heal myself using magic?"

"But why?"

Harry shrugged. "Fun."

"Fun? Fun?" Hermione asked, her eyes widening as he hands dropped in surprise. "You think this is fun?"

A grin made its way onto Harry's face.

"Actually... yes."

"You're mad."

Harry twitched. "I'm not mad."

"You are."

"I am not!"

"Then why are you cutting yourself up like that? For fun? That sounds pretty mad to me," Hermione said, huffing and crossing her arms. Harry shrugged.

"Tonks likes it."

"What does Tonks have to do with this?"

Harry stopped what he was doing. What did Tonks have to do with it? Why had he mentioned her?

"Do you..." Hermione was looking at Harry strangely. "Do you... fancy her?"

Harry had to think about that. Did he? After a few moments, he just shrugged.

"No idea. How does it feel when you fancy someone?"

"Well... You feel all warm inside when you think about them, and when you think about them, you can't help but smile," Hermione said, blushing slightly as she talked about it. "And you think they are really nice, and that you would like to see them again soon."

"Then I think I kind of fancy her," Harry said, going back to work. "I mean, she's cool, and nice, and she's about as interested in being cut open as I am in cutting her open. Not to mention that she's a fascinating metamorphmagus, and she's a very beautiful woman."

"She's also much older than you," Hermione said, only for Harry to shrug again.

"What, six or seven years? That's not much in the long run. Besides, she seems to fancy me, or she wouldn't be flirting with me."

"Wotcher, guys!" came a cheery voice as none other than Tonks came climbing down into the lab.

"Tonks?" Harry asked, blinking with the only eye that had an eyelid to blink with. "How did you get into the Gryffindor Tower?"

"Mad-Eye and I were both informed on how to get into all the common rooms," Tonks said, reaching the bottom of the ladder, and only just now noticing Harry's face. "Oh, that is so cool!" she exclaimed as she walked up to Harry, making sure to take in every detail of what his face looked like underneath the skin. "And you can't feel it at all?"

"Nope," Harry said, prodding his eye with his wand again. "I must say, you're taking this rather well. Much better than Hermione, who just screams when she sees me."

"Only when I see you all cut up!" Hermione protested angrily. "And anyone who was sane would do the same."

"Hey, I'm perfectly sane," Tonks said. "I just happen to be fascinated with Harry's work. You have to admit, the human body is interesting. Wouldn't you want to see your heart beating in your chest? I got to see mine."

"No, thank you... I'm fine with my body as it is, untouched by a scalpel."

"But touched by other things?" Harry joked, grinning. Hermione made a frustrated noise and left the lab. Harry grinned as he moved his wand away from his face, grabbing the clamp and slowly moving the flesh and skin back into place. "Well, I'm just about done here. Time to stitch up."

"Ooh, you're stitching up your face as well?" Tonks asked, grinning widely. "That'll look so wicked."

"Thanks."

The two lapsed into silence, Tonks watching as Harry used a mirror to sew his cut shut. Then, Harry said, "Tonks?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do people go on dates?"

"To get to know each other better, I guess," Tonks said, shrugging. "It helps the one who asked the other out to dazzle the other with a romantic dinner, or something like that. Some just go on dates to just hang out and get to know each other better, I think. I wouldn't know. I haven't been on that many dates."

"Why not?"

"Well, most people who have asked me out have just wanted me to metamorph into the woman of their dreams. So I rejected most guys who asked me out, since they didn't actually want to date me, just those I could turn into."

"I see..." Harry said, cutting the thread and turning to Tonks. "How do I look?"

Tonks grinned. "Like a mad scientist."

"Good," Harry said, waving his wand and making the blood disappear from his face, tools, and clothes. "But I'm not mad, you know."

"I know you're not, Harry."

"Good," Harry said with a nod, getting off the operating table as Tonks sat down in his chair. "Hey, Tonks?"

"Yeah?" Tonks asked, staring into Zeus's cage, where the monkey was staring right back at her.

"You want to try it? Going on a date, I mean?"

"Harry James Potter, are you asking me out?" Tonks asked with a mischievous smirk. "I never would have expected that from you."

"Same here," Harry said, walking over to his alchemy station and taking a bubbling vial off the small fire that had been set up under it. "So, what do you say?"

"Hm... Drinks in Hogsmeade, maybe some dinner in the Great Hall, finishing the evening of with a passionate operating session in your lab..." Tonks muttered, looking thoughtful. Then, she grinned. "I can't wait!"

"Wasn't I the one who was supposed to plan the date?" Harry asked, blinking. "Being the one who asked you out, I mean?"

"Yeah, but you've never been on a date before, so I thought I'd help you out," Tonks said, walking over to Harry and clapping him on the shoulder. "Well, take care of yourself, Harry, I'll see you this weekend!"

"See you later, Tonks."

–

The weekend arrived quickly, and now Harry found himself waiting in the entrance hall, where he and Tonks had decided to meet. When Tonks arrived, Harry almost dropped the cigarette that was dangling from his mouth. Tonks stuck a pose.

"What do you think? Be honest."

Tonks had changed her hair to a wild, black hairstyle, her eyes were bright green, and she wore a short, black skirt, a gray turtleneck sweater, a pair of black pumps, and a long, white lab coat.

"Well, my narcissistic side is thrilled at the change, I have to admit," Harry said, grinning. "Decided we should match for the day?"

"Yeah, though I'm not too fond of those tight Hogwarts shirts, so I wore a sweater instead!" Tonks said happily.

They drew quite a few stares as they walked arm in arm down toward Hogwarts, looking more like twins than a pair going on a date.

"Now, I don't think Madam Puddifoot's is your style," Tonks said as the two of them walked through the streets of Hogsmeade. "How about we just go to the Three Broomsticks?"

Harry nodded. "You're the boss. For now, that is. I will have no ordering me around when I'm cutting you open tonight."

"Oh, no, that's your area of expertise," Tonks said with a laugh as she guided Harry toward the Three Broomsticks. "Wotcher, Rosmerta!" she said happily, greeting the owner of the Three Broomsticks as they entered.

"Tonks, is that you?" Rosmerta asked with a smile as Tonks and Harry approached the bar.

"Sure is! I'm back. We'll have two butterbeers, please."

"Um, sure..." Rosmerta said, her eyes landing on the stitches on Harry's face. Tonks grinned and ran a finger along the stitches.

"Looks pretty wicked, doesn't it?"

"Well... I suppose that depends on who's looking..." Rosmerta said diplomatically, serving them their butterbeers.

"She looked a bit intimidated," Harry said thoughtfully as they walked over to one of the booths, one that was in the corner of the pub. "Excellent."

He took out his wand, then asked Tonks, "You don't mind if I smoke, do you?"

"Not if you give one to me, too," Tonks said, and Harry reached into his pocket, taking out a cigarette and holding it out to her. When she reached for it, however, he pulled it back.

"Strong stuff. I rolled them myself."

Tonks scoffed and took the cigarette, allowing Harry to light it with his wand, before lighting his own.

"Woah..." Tonks muttered after a few drags, looking a bit dazed. "I feel... weird..."

"Oh, I should have mentioned. These cigarettes carry over the calming qualities of the fluxweed I made them from."

"Wicked," Tonks said, taking another drag.

"You say that a lot," Harry said with a smile. "Is it really that wicked?"

"Of course it is! You're probably unique, even rarer than a metamorphmagus. How many people do you know that cut themselves open, then stitch themselves back together just to look intimidating?"

"Well, there's me, then there's... uh..." Harry trailed off as he thought about it. Well, he supposed he was a bit unique, which was actually pretty good. "So, what made you decide to be an Auror?" he asked, deciding to change the subject. His study into the modern Homo Sapiens had, after all, shown that the female liked when the conversation focused on them.

"Well, I've always wanted action in my life, and at the time I couldn't really think of anything else to do, so I opted for an Auror career," Tonks said with a shrug. "It's an exciting life, being a dark wizard catcher."

"But working for Fudge can't be too fun."

"Why would you say that?" Tonks asked, and Harry snorted.

"Well, the man is an imbecile, isn't he?"

"He's not that bad," Tonks said, but Harry could tell that she didn't believe what she was saying. Probably just felt a need to defend her boss.

"To quote a great man, a genuine leader is not a searcher for consensus, but a molder of consensus. Fudge is a slave to public opinion. He doesn't care if he's doing the wrong thing, so long as he lets the people see him do something."

"Now why would you go and say that?"

"In my second year, he arrested Hagrid because he, in his own words, had to be seen doing something," Harry said, snorting. "He's a fool."

"But he's still Minister of Magic. You shouldn't be seen badmouthing the Minister, Harry," Tonks said warningly, looking around to see if anyone had heard what Harry just said.

"I'll badmouth whoever I want," Harry said, again snorting. "What's he gonna do? Arrest me and prove me right that he's an fool?"

"Maybe not, but you don't want the Ministry as your enemy."

"I have the Wizengamot on my side. I'm probably more popular than Fudge, what with my creating the werewolf cure and curing the Longbottoms. I have nothing to fear from the Minister."

"You may be right," Tonks said with a hum. "But until election day, you should keep your opinions to yourself, just a word of advice."

"Fine," Harry said, taking a long drag on his cigarette. Tonks stared at him for a while.

"So, what's this I heard from Sirius about you contemplating death?" she asked suddenly. Harry hummed.

"Oh, I've been emulating a corpse a couple of times now, trying a bit of philosophy."

"And?" Tonks asked, sipping her butterbeer.

"And I've come to the conclusion that I never want to die."

"Never?"

"Never. Can you imagine never getting to use a brain as impressive as mine ever again?"

"I bet your ego could fill up a room, Harry," Tonks joked with a grin, taking another drag from her cigarette.

"Well, it's true. Now, that great man I quoted before also said, it is the quality, not the longevity, of your life that matters. Well, I want both."

"That's a hard goal to reach, immortality," Tonks quipped, but Harry snorted.

"I just have to make a Philosopher's Stone like Flamel."

"Like I said, that's a hard goal to reach."

"Every day I'm getting closer to my goal. I can feel it, Nym."

"What did you just call me?" Tonks asked, blinking.

"Nym," Harry repeated, grinning. "I like it, I think it's cute."

An uncharacteristic blush appeared on Tonks' face, and she muttered a "Thanks..."

"So, what made you decide to go out with me?" Harry asked, putting out his cigarette on the table.

"Well, to be honest, I've always had a bit of a crush on the image of the Boy Who Lived," Tonks admitted. "But then I met you, and I found out that I had been very wrong about you. I thought you would be this badarse superhero-type boy, but you turned out to be an intelligent, brave, and very mature-looking man."

"And that's a good thing, right?"

Tonks laughed. "Yes, Harry, that's a good thing."

"So, tell me about the Department of Mysteries," Harry said, and Tonks raised an eyebrow.

"What do you want to know?"

"What's down there?"

"Well, that, I don't know," Tonks said, shrugging. "Pretty much only the Unspeakables can tell you what is down there, and they are very tight-lipped."

"I've heard that they study the brain down there," Harry said, his mouth practically watering at the prospect of studying it.

"And how the bloody hell do you know that, when not even I know that?" Tonks asked.

"I hear stories..." Harry said vaguely. It wouldn't do to give up the names of his Ministry contacts. He didn't want to lose his mysterious, all-knowing appearance, after all.

The two finished their drinks, then left the Three Broomsticks to go for a walk around Hogsmeade, where Tonks insisted on holding Harry's hand, running her fingers over the stitching on the back of it. Then, after about an hour of aimless walking, they headed back up to the castle for dinner.

Instead of sitting at the teachers' table with Moody, Tonks decided to sit next to Harry at the Gryffindor table, now having changed her hair and eyes to bubblegum pink again.

"The first task is in three days," Tonks said as they ate. "You can still join the tournament should you just choose to."

"I have no interest in the tournament," Harry said, shaking his head. "I'm not going to compete."

"Alright. Just thought it would be a bit more interesting if you were in it," Tonks said with a wink. "You're mental, after all."

Harry twitched.

"I'm not mental."

"Oh, come on, we're all a bit mental," Tonks said, tilting her head to the side. "Why don't you like to be called mental, or mad, or insane?"

"Because I'm not, it's as simple as that. Madness suggests a lack of a certain thought pattern known as sanity. My brain is in pristine condition, and thus, I'm not mad," Harry said simply, pushing his plate away. He hadn't eaten much at all, but he didn't like eating too much.

"I see," Tonks said slowly. "Madman."

Harry twitched again and looked at Tonks, to see her smirking at him, before going back to eating her food. Harry couldn't help but smile for some reason as he sat back, waiting for Tonks to finish eating.

Once Tonks had finished, the two made their way up to the Gryffindor Tower and headed down into Harry's lab, where Tonks immediately sat down on Harry's chair, smiling brightly.

"So, what are you working on?"

"Morphine," Harry said, pointing at a row of test tubes on one of the counters in the lab, "Philosopher's Stone," he said, pointing at the alchemy station, where a red liquid was simmering in a test tube over an open flame, and then pointing to a workbench in the back of the lab, "and my latest invention, which I haven't come up with a name for yet."

"What is it?" Tonks asked, and Harry picked up the contraption. It was made of the living metal he had invented, and was about an inch thick, two inches wide, and three inches long. But that wasn't what was the most eye catching. What really caught the eye was the comically large bolt that went through the contraption.

"It is something that will help me focus my thoughts," Harry said as he walked over to the operating table, setting the contraption down on an empty tray, before waving his wand. A mirror, one identical to the one Harry used when operating on himself, appeared out of thin air, and he took off his lab coat.

He waved his wand again, and a drip holder materialized next to the operating table. Harry then walked over to a magical fridge that he had created, which was located under his alchemy station, and opened it, taking out a blood bag with a silvery liquid inside it.

"Is that... unicorn blood?" Tonks asked, her eyes wide as Harry hung the bag up on the drip holder, before connecting a tube to it. He rolled up his right sleeve, then stuck the needle at the other end of the tube into his wrist, reaching for his lab coat and taking a roll of medical tape out of one of the pockets and wrapping it around his wrist to keep the needle in place.

Harry hopped up on the operating table as the blood entered his bloodstream, and started angling the mirrors so that he had a clear view of the top of his head.

"Care to be my assistant for today?" Harry asked Tonks, who eagerly nodded as she rose from the chair. He held out his hand. "Scalpel, please."

Tonks grinned as she picked up the scalpel and handed it to Harry, who raised it to his head. Then, the grin faded from her face.

"Wait!" she said just as Harry was about to cut into the top of his head. "Shouldn't you take an anesthetic first?"

"No, I need to feel this," Harry said simply, before hissing as the scalpel pierced his skin. "Wow, that hurts more than I thought it would."

"You're mad, Harry. Let no one, even you, tell you otherwise," Tonks said, but she was grinning nonetheless.

Harry stopped cutting into his scalp and turned to Tonks, opening his mouth to retort. Then, he slowly closed his mouth and went back to cutting.

"Maybe just a little..." he muttered, a grin appearing on his face.

–

Well, there you have it, the eighth chapter! Please leave a review and tell me what you think!

9. Chapter 9

Hi, all! ZenoNoKyuubi here with a fresh chapter straight out of my head! Please enjoy!

–

Click, click, click, click...

"What's that?"

"See him? What's he got in his head?"

"Is he turning it?"

"What's he doing?"

Harry closed his eyes as he walked through Hogwarts, the steady clicking soothing him as he turned the large, screw-like bolt that was sticking through his head. He stopped and yawned, looking around at all the students who had stopped what they were doing to take a good look at him.

Shaking his head, Harry continued on his way to the Great Hall for lunch, having decided to skive off the first two lessons of the day. He just hadn't felt like taking Potions today, especially not with the minor headache he still had after adjusting to his Thought-Bolt, as he had named it until he could come up with a better name.

He had designed the bolt and added runes to it in order to keep his brain in pristine, working condition. Plus, the clicking sounds sent soothing vibrations through his head, which was a pleasant bonus.

Tonks had been great as an assistant when he dismantled and assembled the bolt inside his brain using a combination of magical engineering, Muggle surgery, and unicorn blood. She hardly ever got anything wrong when he asked for it. She could guess from the name what it was he wanted.

He had spent all of yesterday in the quiet of his lab, adjusting to the bolt that had been assembled inside his brain.

"Hi, gang," Harry said as he squeezed in between Hermione and Neville at the Gryffindor table. All activity in the Great Hall had ceased, and all eyes were on the bolt going right through his head.

Hermione, on the other hand, just pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.

"I don't want to know..."

"What the bloody hell have you done?" Neville asked, his eyes on the bolt. "You've... Your brain... How are you still alive?"

"That's a mystery, Neville, but what's important is that I am alive, and well, and with a working brain that's better than ever. Now, I'm famished, I haven't eaten for a while," Harry said with a smile as he ladled food onto his plate.

"Harry, can I have a second?" came an aged voice, and Harry looked over his shoulder to see that Dumbledore had come over from the teachers' table to talk to him.

"You can have several, sir," Harry said, getting up from his seat. "What do you need?"

"I would very much like to speak to you in my office, if you are not too busy?" Dumbledore said, his twinkling eyes landing on the bolt in fascination.

"Not at all, Professor. Lead the way," Harry said, and Dumbledore nodded, before walking off. Harry snatched a sausage off his plate, before following, taking a bite out of the sausage.

"A very intriguing device you have there, Harry," Dumbledore spoke as they walked through the corridors of Hogwarts. "Might I ask how you fitted it?"

"Of course you may," Harry said with a smirk, then waited. Dumbledore looked expectant for a few seconds. Then, he chuckled.

"Of course, of course. How did you fit it through your head, my boy?"

"It was a very complicated procedure, I must admit," Harry said, putting a cigarette in his mouth but not lighting it. "I had to cut up my head, saw open my skull, then carefully cut through my brain without damaging anything important, and then I had to assemble the device inside my brain, as I couldn't just shove the whole thing in there. And finally, I had to cut holes in my temples, insert rubber-coated rings in the holes, and then insert the Thought-Bolt."

"Thought-Bolt? Interesting name."

"I couldn't come up with anything better."

"And... why did you put a bolt through your head, my boy?"

"It keeps my brain in tip-top condition forever," Harry said. "It will never succumb to the problems that hit most people with age, like senility, for example. It also helps me focus my thoughts."

"I see. Did you create it yourself?"

"Of course. No wizard would ever even consider making something that you would have to cut yourself open to assemble."

"Very true, my boy. Too many wizards consider Muggle methods to be crude and uncivilized."

"Speaking from experience?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"In my youth, Harry. In my youth."

The two reached the gargoyle guarding the stairs to Dumbledore's office, and after Dumbledore spoke the password ("Cockroach Clusters.") it hopped aside, allowing them to step onto the revolving staircase.

They entered Dumbledore's office, and the headmaster walked around his desk, sitting down in his high-backed chair, before gesturing for Harry to sit down, which he did.

"Harry, I would like for you to compete in the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore said, making Harry's eyes widen.

"What? Why?"

"Because, Voldemort obviously had your name entered for a reason. We need to find out that reason," Dumbledore said, to which Harry's eyebrow rose.

"To kill me, maybe?"

"That's the conclusion one might reach, but I have a feeling, and those are usually proven correct, that there is more to this than meets the eye. Normally, I would not want to put one of my students in danger, but you have more than proven yourself capable of taking care of yourself."

"So, you want to spring the trap and see who comes out?"

"I admit that I am worried about what Sirius told me about your dream, about the loyal servant at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said. "Alastor has suggested, and I agree, that this is for the best."

Harry closed his eyes and thought hard about this, reaching up and turning the bolt slowly, the clicking sounding through the quiet office.

"I really am much too busy to bother with the tournament..." he muttered, still turning the bolt. "But if it's what you wish, headmaster, I will, of course, not object."

"Excellent, Harry," Dumbledore said, smiling brightly. "Now, to another matter..."

"There's more?"

"Yes. Yesterday, I received an owl from one of the Unspeakables in the Ministry of Magic, working in the Department of Mysteries, I am sure you have heard of it?"

"I have," Harry said with a nod.

"Well, this Unspeakable, a man named Alastair Creed, wishes to recruit you into the Unspeakables," Dumbledore said, making Harry's eyes widen. "He wants you to take your NEWTs next year instead of in your seventh year, and if you can get at least an E in everything, they are willing to take you in. Would you be interested in this, Harry?"

"If what I've heard about the Department of Mysteries is true, then of course I am interested. Can I sit my NEWTs now?"

"Unfortunately, you will have to wait until the end of next year," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling happily. "In the meantime, you need to focus on the first task, and I shall send Mr. Creed an owl telling him that you accept."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said, rising from his seat. "Will that be all?"

"That will be all, Harry."

"Have a good day, sir," Harry said as he turned away from Dumbledore, heading for the door.

"You too, my boy, and good luck."

–

"So now you're competing?" Hermione asked as she sat in Harry's lab, where Harry was standing by his chemistry lab, playing with test tubes filled with various liquids. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

"Dumbledore wants me to compete," Harry said, sniffing one of the liquids. "Yes, that'll do," he muttered to himself as he put a stopper in the test tube.

"Why would he want that?"

"To lure out the one who entered me," Harry said with a shrug. He then started turning the bolt in his head. Hermione watched him with a disgusted look on her face.

"I still can't believe you cut open your skull to put that thing in there. And I'm shocked Tonks didn't stop you."

"Everything in this world is research material, Hermione, and that, of course, includes me," Harry said simply, still turning the bolt. "Tonks knows this, and that's why she didn't stop me."

"Or maybe she's just as mad as you are..." Hermione muttered, and for once, Harry didn't object. Maybe he really was a bit mad? It would explain why he saw everything as something to experiment on... "Anyway, what are your plans for tomorrow?"

Harry hummed, turning the bolt in thought.

"I dunno," he admitted. "I am preparing for any eventuality. Explosives, sleeping agents, acids, anything I could possibly need."

"Is that what you've been doing all day instead of coming to lessons?" Hermione asked, and Harry nodded.

"Pretty much. No worries, I already know everything they teach this year."

"Really?"

"Really. I've even been offered to sit my NEWTs next year, instead of my OWLs."

"What?!" Hermione exclaimed, looking outraged. "Why haven't I been offered that?"

"Because the Unspeakables don't want to recruit you?" Harry suggested, raising an eyebrow as he turned the bolt. "In any case, I need to focus on the first task for now. It is tomorrow, after all."

"But why are you making all this? You're not allowed to bring it. I thought you were only allowed a wand?"

"Yes. And a wand can be used to fetch things."

"What...? Oh, Summoning Charm!" Hermione spoke in realization, and Harry nodded. "But can you bring it all the way from the castle?"

"Oh, Hermione, of course I can," Harry said arrogantly, and for good reason. "I'm me."

"Wow, you really need to do something about that arrogance, Harry..." Hermione muttered, leaning back in Harry's chair as Harry himself headed back to his chemistry lab.

The next day arrived, and it wasn't until lunch that Professor McGonagall came hurrying over to him in the Great Hall with lots of people watching her.

"Potter, the champions have to come down onto the grounds now... You have to get ready for your first task."

Harry contemplated flat out refusing to compete, but then he caught Dumbledore's eye, and he sighed, getting up and leaving the Great Hall with Professor McGonagall.

She didn't seem like herself. In fact, she looked very anxious. As she walked him down the stone steps and out into the cold November afternoon, she put her hand on his shoulder, standing taller than him despite his growth spurt.

"I know you can do this, Potter, being clever as you are," she said. "The important thing is not to panic, and to keep a cool head. We've got wizards standing by to control the situation if it gets out of hand... The main thing is just to do your best, and nobody will think any the worse of you... Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Harry said, turning the bolt in his head. He could practically feel Professor McGonagall's eyes on it.

"Why a giant screw, Potter?"

"Well, I considered using a crank, Professor, but I felt that wouldn't be very fashionable," Harry admitted, which made Professor McGonagall pause for a nanosecond. He didn't know if she had been on the verge of laughing or what, but he was glad to have gotten some kind of reaction out of her.

Professor McGonagall was leading him around the edge of the forest, and when they approached a clump of trees where the first task would take place, Harry saw that a tent had been erected, its entrance facing them, screening whatever was on the other side from view.

"You're to go in here with the other champions," Professor McGonagall said in a shaky sort of voice, "and wait for your turn, Potter. Mr. Bagman is in there... he'll be telling you the... the procedure... Good luck."

"Thanks, Professor," Harry said, and walked into the tent, turning the bolt in his head.

Fleur Delacour (as Harry had learned that the veela girl's name was) was sitting in a corner on a low wooden stool. She didn't look nearly as composed as usual, but rather pale and clammy. Viktor Krum looked even surlier than usual, which Harry supposed was his way of showing nerves. Cedric was pacing up and down. He nodded to Harry when the scientist entered.

"Harry! Good-o!" Bagman said happily, looking around at him. "Almost thought you weren't going to show up! Come in, come in, make yourself at home!"

Bagman looked somehow like a slightly overblown cartoon figure, standing amid all the pale-faced champions. He was wearing his old Wimbourne Wasps outfit, which was yellow and black striped.

"Well, now we're all here, time to fill you in!" Bagman said brightly. "When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag," he held up a small sack of purple silk and shook it at them, "from which you will each selevt a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different, er, varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else, too... ah, yes... your task is to collect the golden egg!"

Harry glanced around. Cedric had nodded once, to show that he understood Bagman's words. Fleur and Krum hadn't reacted at all.

In no time, hundreds upon hundreds of pairs of feet could be heard passing the tent, their owners talking excitedly, laughing, joking... Harry sat down in a chair, then rose from it immediately to turn it around, sitting down once more and leaning forward against the backrest, his arms crossed after taking out and lighting a cigarette.

Then, finally, Bagman opened the neck of the silk sack.

"Ladies first," he said, offering it to Fleur.

She put a shaking hand inside the bag and drew out a tiny, perfect model of a dragon, a Welsh Green, if Harry recognized it properly. It had the number two around its neck. And Harry now knew, by the fact that Fleur showed no sign of surprise, but rather a determined resignation, that she had somehow found out about the first task beforehand.

The same held true for Krum. He pulled out a scarlet Chinese Fireball. It had a number three around its neck. HE didn't even blink, just sat back down and stared at the ground.

Cedric put his hand into the back, and out came a blueish-gray Swedish Short-Snout, the number one tied around its neck. Next came Harry, who put his hand into the silk bag and pulled out what looked like a Hungarian Horntail, and the number four. It stretched its wings as he looked down at it, and bared its miniscule fangs. A calm smile appeared on Harry's face.

"My, my, you're a cute one. I'd like to dissect you," he spoke to the miniature dragon, turning the bolt on his head.

"Well, there you are!" Bagman said. "You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you are to take on the dragons, do you see? Now, I'm going to have to leave you in a moment, because I'm commentating. Mr. Diggory, you're first, just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, alright? Now... Harry... could I have a quick word? Outside?"

"Sorry, Mr. Bagman," Harry said, prodding the miniature Horntail with his wand, making it bare its fangs at him again, "I'm sitting very comfortable right now."

"I assure you, it'll only take a minute."

"But that would involve getting up, and I don't feel like doing that. So sorry, but no."

"Al... Alright, then. Good luck to you all," Bagman said, then left the tent.

Harry pocketed the dragon and his wand, then rested his head against his arms, looking calmly around at the other champions, his eyes landing on Fleur. When she looked back at him, he grinned slightly.

"Man, you have such beautiful skin... Makes me want to cut you open and see what you look like on the inside..." he muttered, making Fleur's eyes widen.

"Ex... Excuse me?" Fleur asked, blinking.

"I would like to dissect you, and see just how a veela, even a part-veela, works," Harry said, and Fleur huffed.

"Please, stay away from me..."

Somewhere, a whistle blew, and Cedric left the tent, looking green. Seconds later, they heard the roar of the crowd, which meant that Cedric had entered the large enclosure behind the tent.

From outside, they heard the crowd roar, scream, gasp, but inside the tent, the only sound was the steady clicking coming from the bolt in Harry's head as he turned it, his gaze remaining on Fleur, who looked uncomfortable at the attention. Then, after about fifteen minutes, Harry heard the deafening roar that could only mean one thing: Cedric had gotten past his dragon and gotten the golden egg. Harry smiled softly.

"Wow, sounds like he really did it," he spoke slowly. "One should learn not to underestimate your opponents, I suppose that's what I've learned today."

"'Ow can you be so calm?" Fleur asked, sounding angry at the fact that Harry wasn't bothered by the impending danger.

"No point in being so nervous, it'll only mess up your game," Harry said calmly, turning the bolt in his head. Then, he glanced up at the ceiling. "Oh, I would really like to dissect a dragon..."

"Very good indeed!" they heard Bagman shout. "And now the marks from the judges!"

He didn't shout out the marks, and Harry supposed the judges were holding them up and showing them to the crowd.

"One down, three to go!" Bagman yelled as the whistle blew again. "Miss Delacour, if you please!"

Fleur was trembling from head to foot. However, she left the tent with her head held high and her hand clutching her wand. Harry and Krum were left along, at opposite sides of the tent, Harry staring unblinkingly at Krum, who avoided his gaze.

Ten minutes later, Harry heard the crowd erupt into applause once more. Fleur must have been successful, too. There was a pause while Fleur's marks were being shown, more clapping, and then, for the third time, the whistle blew.

"And here comes Mr. Krum!" Bagman cried, and Krum slouched out, leaving Harry alone.

"Very daring!" Bagman yelled a couple of minutes into the wait, and Harry heard the Chinese Fireball emit a horrible, roaring shriek, while the crowd drew its collective breath. "That's some nerve he's showing, and... yes, he's got the egg!"

Applause were heard as Harry rose from his chair, muttering to himself, "Well, guess it's time for me now." He turned the bolt three times, then waited. He heard the whistle blow, and left the tent, walking past the trees, through a gap in the enclosure fence.

There were hundreds and hundreds of faces staring down at him from stands that had been magicked there. And there was the Horntail, at the other end of the enclosure, crouched low over her clutch of eggs, her wings half-furled, her evil, yellow eyes upon him, a monstrous, scaly, black lizard, thrashing her spiked tail, leaving yard-long gouge marks in the hard ground. The crowd was making a great deal of noise as Harry stood there, watching the Horntail.

"Well then," he spoke, turning the bolt twice more, "let's get started, shall we?" He raised his wand into the air. "Accio tournament pack!"

He waited. Then, speeding through the air behind him, he heard and turned to see a black pack come hurtling toward him around the edge of the woods, soaring into the enclosure. He caught it in mid-air and laid it out on the ground, opening it to show syringes, scalpels, bottles, vials, test tubes, all kinds of things. Immediately, he started filling his pockets with the items, then stood up, brushing aside the pack with his foot.

Then, Harry started walking toward the Horntail calmly, slowly, digging his hand into his pocket and taking out a vial filled with a pink liquid. Bubblegum pink, like Tonks' hair.

Harry measured the distance between him and the dragon, cocked his arm back, then flung the vial at the Horntail. The vial soared through the air, then crashed against the Horntail's head, exploding in a cloud of pink smoke. The Horntail roared in anger as it rose up, unfurling her wings, but Harry wasn't worried. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"And in three... two... one... now..."

Right on time, the Horntail started snorting several times, its eyes drooping. It had stood up on its hind legs, but was now slowly lowering itself onto all fours once more. Then, it tipped to the side and promptly fell asleep. A grin appeared on Harry's face as he rushed forward.

However, he didn't run to the eggs. Instead, he ran over to the Horntail's head and pried open its mouth, ignoring its loud snoring as he took out a syringe and stuck it in the Horntail's tongue, extracting its blood. He did the same with five more syringes, putting protective caps on the needles before pocketing them again. He then took out a test tube and scooped up a tube-full of dragon saliva, before putting a stopper in it and pocketing that as well.

Then, finally, he walked over to the nest and picked up the golden egg.

Immediately, the crowd started cheering loudly for him, and he heard Bagman roar, "He's done it! The youngest champion gets the golden egg the quickest! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!"

Cradling his golden egg, and wishing he had picked up one of the real ones as well, Harry made his way over to the entrance of the enclosure, where he saw Professor McGonagall hurrying to meet him, waving him toward her, her smile evident even from a distance.

"That was excellent, Potter!" Professor McGonagall cried as Harry reached her, which, from her, was extravagant praise. "Since you aren't injured, take a look at your score."

Harry turned back to see dragon keepers levitating the Horntail away, and he could now see where the judges were sitting, right at the other end, in raised seats draped in gold.

Madame Maxime was the first judge to raise her wand. What looked like a long silver ribbon shot out of it, which twisted itself into a large figure nine.

Mr. Crouch came next. He shot a number nine into the air.

Next, Dumbledore put up a ten. The crowd was cheering harder than ever. Ludo Bagman also put up a ten.

And now Karkaroff raised his wand. He paused for a moment, and then a number shot out of his wand, too... five...

Harry almost dropped his cigarette in surprise. Then, he narrowed his eyes and looked to Professor McGonagall, who looked outraged. She recovered quickly, however, and cleared her throat.

"Potter, you have to stick around a little longer. Mr. Bagman wants a word in the champions' tent."

"Understood, Professor," Harry said, nodding as he left the enclosure and reentered the tent.

Fleur, Cedric, and Krum all came in together. One side of Cedric's face was covered in a thick orange paste, which was mending what was no doubt a burn. He grinned at Harry when he saw him.

"Good one, Harry."

"I'd say the same, but I have no idea what you did," Harry said, smiling back as he turned the bolt.

"I transfigured a rock into a dog. But the dragon changed its mind halfway, and... well..." Cedric gestured for his face, and Harry nodded in understanding.

"Well done, all of you!" Bagman said, bouncing into the tent and looking as pleased as though he personally had just got past a dragon. "Now, just a quick few words. You've got a nice long break before the second task, which will take place at half past nine on the morning of February the twenty-fourth, but we're giving you something to think about in the meantime! If you look down at those golden eggs you're all holding, you will see that they open... see the hinges there? You need to solve the clue inside the egg, because it wil ltell you what the second task is, and enable you to prepare for it! All clear? Sure? Well, off you go, then!"

Harry left the tent, joined by Hermione and Neville, and they started to walk back around the edge of the forest.

"That was incredible! A sleeping agent powerful enough to knock out a dragon!" Hermione said excitedly. "What did you put in that thing?"

"Oh, a little bit of this, a little bit of tha- Oof!" Harry grunted as a pink missile launched itself into his chest, hugging him hard. "Nym?"

"I knew you could do it!" Tonks said, breaking the hug and grabbing Harry's cheeks, before planting a long kiss on his lips. "Congratulations!"

Harry blinked. "Thanks, Nym..."

"Now come on, let's have you strip me down and strap me to your operating table," Tonks said happily, grabbing Harry's hand and pulling him with her.

Then, as they rounded a clump of trees, a witch leapt out from behind them.

It was a witch wearing acid-green robes, with her hair in curls, and a Quick-Quotes Quill in her hand, which blended perfectly against her robes.

"Congratulations, Harry!" she said, beaming at him. "Rita Skeeter, the Daily Prophet, could I have a quick word?"

"Sure," Harry said, turning the bolt in his head. Rita Skeeter seemed to just now notice it, as she flinched at the clicking noises it gave off.

"What is that thing?"

"My own invention," Harry said, smiling. "It's a device that keeps my brain young and healthy for as long as I live, hopefully. I haven't seen the long-term effects yet."

"I see, I see," Skeeter said as she fished a piece of parchment out of her handbag. The Quick-Quotes Quill immediately got to work writing on the parchment. "So, Harry, how did you feel facing that dragon? How do you feel now, and how do you feel about the fairness of the scoring?"

"Calm, calm, and eh, don't rightly care, even though Karkaroff showed blatant favoritism. Thank you, and take care."

With that, Harry walked off, pulling Tonks with him.

–

"So, what was with the kiss yesterday?" Harry asked the next day as he stood in his lab with Tonks, who was looking into the mirror Harry used when operating on himself, changing her hairstyle from this to that, and the color from black, to brown, to purple, to pink, and so on.

"Oh, that? Just me saying I was happy you hadn't been eaten by a bloody great big dragon," Tonks said with a shrug. Harry looked away from the elixir simmering in a test tube over an open flame to look at Tonks with a raised eyebrow. She stared right back at him, her hair going red from the tips to the roots, and then she looked away. "Alright, so maybe I've always wanted to do that..."

Harry kept staring, and this time, Tonks' face turned a shade of red that matched her hair.

"Give me a break, alright? You're an attractive male who looks much older than he really is, you're well-built, you're magically powerful, who wouldn't want to kiss you?"

"Anyone who's repulsed by the bolt?" Harry suggested, pointing at the bolt in his head. Tonks smirked and rose from Harry's chair, moving over to him while swaying her hips.

"Well, I'm not repulsed by it," she said, moving ever closer, until their faces were just a couple of inches apart. "In fact, I think it's sexy."

She reached up and grabbed the bolt, slowly turning it. The steady clicking sound made Harry shiver slightly in delight. Somehow, it felt different when she was the one who turned it.

"If you don't mind," Harry muttered, gulping, "I'd really like to try that kissing thing again..."

Tonks' smirk widened as she stood tip-toed and leaned even closer to Harry.

"That's what I was hoping you'd say..." she whispered, before kissing him. This time, however, Harry slowly responded to the kiss. His arms wrapped around Tonks' waist as Tonks herself practically purred, turning the bolt even more.

Slowly, Tonks broke the kiss, and Harry exhaled slowly, his eyes opening.

"Isn't this considered robbing the cradle?"

"Do you care?" Tonks asked with a raised eyebrow. Harry grinned.

"Not really," he said, before kissing her again, more passionately this time. He felt Tonks' tongue prod his lips, and, having read about this, he opened his mouth and allowed their tongues to wrestle with each other.

Smut did come in handy sometimes.

When they broke the kiss, Tonks let out a "Wow..." as she grinned at Harry.

"Your whole being was focused on that kiss, wasn't it?" she asked shrewdly. "Not a single thought on anything else?"

"A smart man once said, 'Any man who can drive safely while kissing a pretty girl is simply not giving the kiss the attention it deserves.'"

"Who said that?"

"Albert Einstein."

"Who?"

Harry smiled. Her ignorance was adorable.

"You know, you've been quoting a lot of great men recently. Why is that?"

"Why not? They're great men," Harry said with a shrug. "Albert Einstein was a German physicist who-"

"Harry," Tonks interrupted, making Harry blink.

"Hm?"

"Shut up and kiss me."

"Alright."

–

Well, there you have it, the ninth chapter! Please leave a review and tell me what you think!

10. Chapter 10

Hi, all! ZenoNoKyuubi here with a fresh chapter straight out of my head! Please enjoy!

–

Journal, November 26th, 1994,

Finally started my research into the essence of magic itself. It has been put on hold for long enough. Meditation techniques, along with Plunger, has helped me to locate my magic core. It is quite large for someone my age. I must find some way to experiment on it... I have heard that there used to be people who could see people's magical cores. I wonder if I can recreate that effect...

On another note, it would appear that Nym and I are now in some sort of relationship... We have certainly kissed enough for that to be so, I should think. Note to self, ask Nym if we really are in a relationship.

–

Journal, November 28th,

Started my work on creating a new eyeball. I believe I shall be replacing my right eye with it. Hopefully, it will work, and I won't be cutting out my eye for nothing. That would be bad. Unlike Moody's eye, this eye won't be able to see through solid objects, but it should be able to see magical cores, even through solid objects should I focus on it. In return, the eye will be of normal size, instead of Moody's grotesque eye.

–

Journal, December 1st,

Finally met up with Nym. She has agreed that yes, we are in a relationship. I didn't find myself objecting, as I kind of look forward to studying a somewhat healthy human relationship. I cannot say that it would be a normal relationship, as it will no doubt be far from normal, but it will be at least a bit healthy.

I think...

–

"Now that you have all copied down your homework, I have something to say to you all," Professor McGonagall said at the end of their Transfiguration lesson on December the tenth. "The Yule Ball is approaching, a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above, although you may invite a younger student if you wish..."

Lavender Brown gave a shrill giggle. Parvati Patil nudged her hard in the ribs, her face working furiously as she too fought not to giggle. They both looked around at Harry, who reached up and turned the bolt in his head, sharing a look with Hermione. Professor McGonagall ignored them and continued.

"Dress robes will be worn, and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall. Now then..."

Professor McGonagall stared deliberately around the class.

"The Yule Ball is of course a chance for us all to, er, let our hair down," she said in a disapproving voice. Harry had to admit that he could see the humor as Lavender giggled harder than ever. Professor McGonagall looked as though she had never let her hair down.

"But that does not mean," Professor McGonagall went on, "that we will be relaxing the standards of behavior we expect from Hogwarts students. I will be most seriously displeased if a Gryffindor student embarrasses the school in any way."

Her eyes landed on Harry, who did his best to look perfectly innocent, just as the bell rang, and there was a scuffle of activity as everyone packed their bags and swung them onto their shoulders.

"Potter, a word, if you please," Professor McGonagall called over the noise. Harry nodded and, turning the bolt, proceeded over to Professor McGonagall's desk. Professor McGonagall waited until the rest of the class had gone, and then said, "Potter, the champions and their partners traditionally open the ball. You do know how to dance, don't you?"

"Should I?" Harry asked. Professor McGonagall looked disapprovingly at him.

"Yes, Potter, you should. You are to open the ball with the other champions, and thus you must learn to dance. I suggest you get someone to teach you before the ball."

"It'll cut in on my work... but I suppose I will have to," Harry said grumpily, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Will that be all, Professor?"

"That will be all, Potter."

Harry immediately left the classroom and started his search for the only person he would admit to not knowing how to dance to. He found her, as expected, in the Great Hall for lunch.

"Hey, Nym, can I talk to you?"

"Sure, Harry," Tonks said, getting up from her seat at the Gryffindor table, where she had probably been waiting for him, and she followed him out of the Great Hall. "What is it, Harry? Care for a snog?"

"No. Well, that too, but I need you to teach me how to dance."

A smirk appeared on Tonks' face.

"Oh, so you've finally heard about the Yule Ball, then?"

"You knew about it?"

"Of course I knew. So, what about it?"

"What about what?" Harry asked, blinking. Tonks sighed.

"Aren't you going to ask me to the ball?"

"Well, we're boyfriend and girlfriend, I thought it would have been obvious that we go together."

"But it's still proper to ask."

"Fine, fine," Harry said, then cleared his throat, before turning the bolt twice and looking to Tonks. "Nym, would you, er, do me the honor of accompanying me to the Yule Ball?"

"Not bad. Not bad at all," Tonks said, smirking again. "I would be honored to, Mr. Potter."

"Great. Now, come, teach me how to dance," Harry said, and started pulling Tonks with him. Tonks, however, resisted, pulling on Harry's arm.

"Oh no, first you and I are going to find a broom cupboard, and there we are going to snog each other's brains out. Alright?"

Harry stopped and thought about it. Then, he nodded.

"Alright, that sounds good."

Tonks smirked and started pulling him in the opposite direction.

–

"That's right, one, two, three. One, two, three," Tonks said as the she and Harry waltzed through an empty classroom. It was harder to do it without music, but Harry had been quick to pick up the steps as soon as Tonks had shown him. They had been dancing like this pretty much every day for the last two weeks, and now Christmas Eve was there. Tomorrow would be the Yule Ball, and Harry found himself strangely enough looking forward to it.

Dancing like this with Tonks had been much more pleasant than he had first thought it'd be, and to be able to do it in the Great Hall, with Tonks in a dress, and music playing... it really was something to look forward to.

"You are doing great, Harry. In fact, these last five lessons have been completely useless in teaching you anything new," Tonks said as they slowly revolved on the spot.

"But they have been pleasant, have they not?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow, and Tonks nodded.

"That they have," she admitted, the put on a shrewd smirk. "Is that why you have been insisting on continuing them?"

"Of course. Why else?"

"So you consider dancing with me to be more important than your work?"

"Actually, I consider spending time with you to be just about as important as my work, but considering I don't really have anything to do, dancing with you is the best use of my time," Harry said with a shrug.

"Well, I consider you to be more than ready to open the ball tomorrow night," Tonks said, smiling at him as she leaned up and kissed him softly. "So, what do we do with the rest of our time?"

Harry shrugged, then suggested, "Snog each other senseless?"

Tonks smirked. "I like the way you think, Harry."

Christmas Day arrived, and on that evening Harry found himself looking at the mirror in his lab, taking in his appearance. He wore a pair of black shoes, black slacks, his white lab coat, and a white dress shirt with a wing collar. He had decided not to wear a bow tie, as when he had tried it on he had found it to be rather suffocating.

Nodding to himself, Harry pocketed his emergency tool kit with a syringe, some anesthetics, tranquilizers, and a scalpel, and left his lab, heading out of Gryffindor Tower and going down to the entrance hall.

The entrance hall was packed with students, all milling around waiting for eight o'clock, when the doors to the Great Hall would be thrown open. Those people who were meeting partners from different houses were edging through the crowd trying to find one another.

"Wotcher, Harry," a voice said from behind Harry, and he spun around to find Tonks smiling at him. Her hair was now long, wavy, and blond, and her eyes were green, matching Harry's. She was wearing a long, blue, strapless silk dress that looked very beautiful on her.

"You look great," Harry said, smirking as he put a cigarette in his mouth, not lighting it.

"You don't look too bad yourself," Tonks said, smirking as well as the Beauxbatons lot entered the entrance hall, led by Fleur Delacour, who was accompanied by the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, Roger Davies. "Couldn't lose the coat, could you?"

"I like this coat," Harry defended. "You gave it to me, after all."

Tonks smiled and placed a soft kiss on Harry's lips.

But now the question was, where was Hermione?

The oak front doors opened again, and everyone turned to look as the Durmstrang students entered with Karkaroff. Krum was at the front of the party, accompanied by... Hermione? Only Hermione looked very different. Her hair was no longer bushy, but sleek and shiny, and twisted up into an elegant knot at the back of her head. She was wearing robes made of a floaty, periwinkle-blue material, and she was holding herself differently, somehow.

Then, Professor McGonagall's voice called, "Champions over here, please!"

Tonks straightened up and, looping her arm with Harry's, they proceeded forward, the chattering crowd parting to let them through. Professor McGonagall, who was wearing dress robes of red tartan and had arranged a rather ugly wreath of thistles around the brim of her hat, told them to wait on one side of the doors while everyone else went inside. They were to enter the Great Hall in procession when the rest of the students had sat down. Fleur and Davies stationed themselves nearest the doors. Cedric and Cho Chang were near Harry, but Harry just focused on Hermione, who beamed at him.

"Hi, Harry!" she said. "Hi, Tonks!"

"Wotcher, Hermione!" Tonks said happily. "Like the hair."

"You could look like that without Sleekeazy," Harry said in a sing-song voice, wiggling his eyebrow at her, but even Harry's requests to cut her open didn't seem to be able to destroy Hermione's good mood.

Once everyone else was settled in the hall, Professor McGonagall told the champions and their partners to get in line in pairs and to follow her. They did so, and everyone in the Great Hall applauded as they entered and started walking up toward a large round table at the top of the hall, where the judges were sitting.

The walls of the hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables had vanished. Instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.

"Isn't this nice?" Tonks asked as they approached the table.

"It would be nicer if we were alone," Harry said, looking around with his cigarette dangling from his mouth.

Dumbledore smiled happily as the champions approached the top table, but Karkaroff watched Krum and Hermione with narrowed eyes. Ludo Bagman, tonight in robes of bright purple with large yellow stars, was clapping as enthusiastically as any of the students, and Madame Maxime, who had changed her usual uniform of black sating for a flowing gown of lavender silk, was applauding them politely. But Mr. Crouch, Harry realized, was not there. The fifth seat at the table was occupied by... Head Boy Weasley?

Harry, who had no intention of listening to the pompous prat all night, made sure to sit down as far away from him as possible, next to Dumbledore, with Tonks on his other side.

Harry looked around for a while, trying to figure out where the food was supposed to come from, when Dumbledore picked up his menu, studied it for a moment, then clearly said, "Pork chops."

And pork chops appeared on Dumbledore's plate. Everyone else, taking the hint, picked up their menus and started ordering. Harry, who wasn't hungry, didn't pick his up, and instead turned to Dumbledore.

"Professor?"

"Yes, my boy?" Dumbledore said, pausing in his eating to look at Harry, who hummed and reached up, turning the bolt.

"I have been thinking... how is me competing going to lure out the one who entered my name?"

"If it is true that Voldemort wants you," Dumbledore said, lowering his voice so that only Harry could hear him, "then the culprit is sure to make a move against you. I shall be watching you closely this year, Harry, and make sure that nothing happens to you."

Harry just hummed again and kept turning the bolt. He wasn't so sure that Dumbledore would be able to keep that close an eye on him, busy as he was.

"If you say so, sir," Harry said, then leaned toward Tonks, smiling at her. "How are you enjoying yourself, Nym?"

Tonks, who had started on her own pork chops, swallowed and wiped her mouth with a napkin.

"The ball has barely started, and you're already asking me that?"

"I thought conversation was part of a relationship?" Harry said, blinking. "Was I wrong?"

"Not at all, but I have barely even gotten an impression of the ball yet. I don't really know what to say. It's a bit overwhelming, I guess, being the center of attention like this."

"Just don't step on my toes when we dance like you did in practice, and it'll be fine," Harry said with a wink, and Tonks childishly stuck her tongue out at him.

When all the food had been consumed, Dumbledore stood up and asked the students to do the same. Then, with a wave of his wand, all the tables zoomed back along the walls leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised platform into existence along the right wall. A set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello, and some bagpipes were set upon it.

The Weird Sisters now trooped up onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause, especially from Tonks. They were all extremely hairy and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn. They picked up their instruments, and Harry stood up with Tonks and the other champions as the lanterns on all the other tables went out.

The Weird Sisters struck up a low, mournful tune, and Harry walked onto the dance floor with Tonks, taking her hand in his, before putting his other hand on her hip, her free hand on his shoulder. Then, they started revolving slowly on the spot, staring into each other's eyes.

"I'm already enjoying myself," Tonks said, now and then looking down from Harry's eyes to make sure she didn't step on his toes.

"I'm glad to hear it," Harry said with a smile, his cigarette still dangling from his mouth.

Soon enough, many of the other people in the hall had also come onto the dance floor, so that the champions were no longer the center of attention. Neville and Ginny were dancing nearby, and Harry could see Ginny wincing frequently as Neville trod on her toes. Dumbledore was waltzing with Madame Maxime. He was so dwarfed by her that the top of his pointed hat barely tickled her chin. However, she moved very gracefully for a woman so large. Mad-Eye Moody was doing an extremely ungainly two-step with Professor Sinistra, who was nervously avoiding his wooden leg, and Lupin, wearing very fine dress robes (purchased, no doubt, by Sirius), was waltzing with Professor Vector.

"Looking good there, Mad-Eye," Tonks told Moody with a grin, getting a crooked grin in return from Moody as he passed.

Harry heard the final, quivering note from the bagpipe and stopped dancing as applause filled the hall once more when the Weird Sisters stopped playing.

"Let's go sit down, shall we?"

"But this is a good one!" Tonks said as the Weird Sisters struck up a new song, which was much faster.

"I don't dance to fast songs, you should know that."

Tonks scoffed.

"You're lucky you're sexy, you party-pooper," she said as she led him over to an empty table, sitting down. Within minutes, Tonks was asked to dance by a Beauxbatons boy. Tonks crossed her arms and looked to Harry, who was staring at Fleur.

"Well?"

"Well what?" Harry asked, looking away from Fleur to look at Tonks.

"Aren't you going to fight for me?" Tonks asked with a teasing grin. Harry nodded, then looked to the Beauxbatons boy, who nervously looked back at him. Then, Harry slowly reached up, keeping his face neutral, and turned his bolt twice. The boy cleared his throat.

"Um, never mind..." he muttered, and left Tonks alone. Harry shrugged.

"Why fight when you can merely intimidate?" he asked with a hint of a grin on his face. Tonks looked at him.

"Why are you staring at that French bird, Harry? You're not... attracted to her, are you?"

"I'm ninety-five percent sure she's at least part-veela. I would like a sample of her DNA, or maybe even a blood sample," Harry said, slinging an arm around Tonks' shoulders. "You know you're the only one for me."

Tonks snuggled into him, smiling brightly.

Hermione came over and sat down on the opposite side of Harry. She was a bit pink in the face from dancing.

"Hi," Harry said, nodding.

"It's hot, isn't it?" Hermione said, fanning herself with her hand. "Viktor's just gone to get some drinks."

"Doing well with the Bulgarian bloke, are you?" Tonks asked with that same teasing grin on her face. "Does he do like my Harry and scare away possible dance partners?"

Hermione laughed. "I don't think anyone has had a chance to ask me to dance yet."

Within moments, however, that same Beauxbatons boy had arrived once more, and asked Hermione to dance. Harry was about to interfere, since Hermione looked a bit startled at being asked, but just then Krum arrived at their table, clutching two butterbeers.

"Here you go, Herm-own-ninny," he said, handing one to Hermione. The Beauxbatons boy flinched, then slouched off in disappointment.

"Looks like we both found dates with an impressive intimidation factor, eh?" Tonks said to Hermione, winking as Krum sat down next to Hermione.

Harry smiled and turned the bolt, looking from Krum to Hermione.

"So, how did you two end up going to the ball?"

"Well, Viktor here came to me when we were in the library and asked me to the ball," Hermione said, but Harry could tell that there was more to the story than that. Krum looked a bit embarrassed, which was a funny look on him, as he looked like he didn't know whether to frown or not.

"I had been coming to the library for veeks, trying to vork up the nerve to talk to her," Krum supplied, an ugly blush springing up on his face. "I am glad she said yes."

"Me too," Hermione said with a smile.

The four of them descended into pleasant small talk. Harry found Krum to be a very polite individual, not that he had stopped looking surly and actually started talking. They didn't talk about Quidditch, which Harry assumed Krum was very grateful for.

The top table was now empty. Dumbledore was dancing with Professor Sprout, and Ludo Bagman with Professor McGonagall. Madame Maxime and Hagrid were cutting a wide path around the dance floor as they waltzed through the students, Head Boy Weasley was sitting with his brothers, and Karkaroff was nowhere to be seen. When the next song ended, everybody applauded once more, and Harry saw Ludo Bagman kiss Professor McGonagall's hand and make his way back through the crowds, at which point Fred and George Weasley accosted him.

"What are you looking at?" Tonks asked Harry, following Harry's gaze. "It's funny, you haven't really looked at me all night."

"What about that intimate moment we shared when we danced?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. "I only had eyes for you back then."

Tonks smiled. "Want to go outside for a walk? Get away from all the interesting specimens in the room?"

Harry nodded, and the two got up, telling Hermione and Krum that they were going for a walk, but just as they turned to leave, Harry found himself face-to-face with Ludo Bagman, who had shook off Fred and George, smiling brightly at him.

"Harry! How are you enjoying yourself?"

"Fairly well, Mr. Bagman," Harry said with a smile. "But you'll have to excuse me, Tonks and I were just about to go for a walk."

"Very well, very well, this night is for enjoying yourself, after all, so go right ahead," Bagman said, giving them a small bow. Tonks and Harry shared a look, before leaving the Great Hall.

The front doors stood open as they slipped into the entrance hall, and the fluttering fairy lights in the rose garden winked and twinkled as they went down the front steps, where they found themselves surrounded by bushes, winding, ornamental paths, and large stone statues. Harry could hear splashing water, which sounded like a fountain. Here and there, people were sitting on carved benches. He and Tonks set off along one of the winding paths through the rosebushes, but they had gone only a short way when they heard an unpleasantly familiar voice.

"...don't see what there is to fuss about, Igor."

"Severus, you cannot pretend this isn't happening!" Karkaroff's voice sounded anxious and hushed, as though keen not to be overheard. "It's been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I cannot deny it..."

"Then flee," Snape's voice said curtly. "Flee... I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts."

Snape and Karkaroff came around the corner. Snape had his wand out and was blasting rosebushes apart, his expression most ill-natured. Squeals issued from many of the bushes, and dark shapes emerged from them.

"Ten points from Ravenclaw, Fawcett!" Snape snarled as a girl ran past him. "And ten points from Hufflepuff too, Stebbins!" as a boy went rushing after her. "And what are you two doing?" he added, catching sight of Harry and Tonks on the path ahead. Karkaroff, Harry saw, looked slightly discomposed to see them standing there. His hand went nervously to his goatee, and he began winding it around his finger.

"Walking and smoking," Harry said, lighting his cigarette finally. "There's nothing in the rules against that."

"Keep walking, then!" Snape snarled, and he brushed past them, his long, black cloak billowing out behind him. Karkaroff hurried away after Snape.

"Just because he never got some when he went to school, that doesn't mean he should keep others from getting some," Tonks muttered, looping her arm with Harry's as they kept walking.

"What I want to know is, what were they talking about? And since when have those two been on first-name terms?"

"Hey, forget about that now," Tonks said, taking Harry's cigarette out of his mouth and kissing him. "Tonight is about us."

"Us, huh?" Harry asked. Tonks took a drag from the cigarette, then blew the smoke out through her nose, before smirking, reaching up and turning the bolt.

"Yes, us."

"I can work with that."

Then, they kissed again.

"Hey, Harry," Tonks said as they broke the kiss.

"Hm?"

"How would you like to continue your research into the human mating habits?"

–

"I hope you're not cutting yourself open," came Hermione's voice the next day as the lid to Harry's trunk was opened, and Hermione climbed down. "I swear, Harry, if you are, I'm going to- Oh my..."

Hermione covered her face and turned her back to the operating table, where Harry and Tonks were lying, snoozing peacefully, Tonks on top of Harry, and both of them stark naked.

The smell of sex was clearly evident, and as Harry stretched and saw Hermione glance their way, he saw a heavy blush on her face.

"Good morning, Hermione," Harry said pleasantly, rousing Tonks from her sleep with his voice. Tonks gave off a contented purr as she stretched like a cat, lifting her bum into the air.

"P-Put some clothes on..." Hermione muttered, looking away again.

"What time is it?" Tonks asked, kissing Harry once before getting off him, giving off an "Ooh," when her feet touched the cold floor. Harry got off the table as well, and they started picking up their clothes. Harry put his dirty clothes on the operating table, before taking another set of clothes out of a drawer in the lab, where he kept spare clothes in case of all-nighters. He and Tonks got dressed, Tonks putting on the same dress she had been wearing last night, and they gave Hermione the all clear.

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking, Hermione?" Tonks asked as Hermione turned to them, still blushing furiously.

"I'll remember that from now on..."

"Tonks and I were just doing a joint study into the mating habits of the modern Homo Sapiens," Harry informed Hermione as he put on his lab coat.

"And how did that go?"

"It was very rewarding," Tonks said with a wide grin on her face.

"But how could you do that?" Hermione wanted to know. "Harry is underage! If anyone finds out-"

"Oh, Hermione, you're thinking like a Muggle," Harry said, stretching. "We're in the wizard world. They don't have any rules like that."

"Well, the partner can't be too young, but yeah, we don't have any rules like that."

"Oh... Well, the Muggle world will frown upon it!"

"They'd be too busy wondering why I have a bolt through my head to worry about who I date," Harry said simply, making Hermione's eyes widen.

"That's right! How are you going to hide that?"

"Why would I hide it? I'll probably just pretend I'm going to a costume party, or something," Harry said with a shrug.

"As a sexy mad scientist," Tonks said with a grin, reaching up from behind Harry and turning the bolt. "Ooh, don't you just love that clicking sound?"

"You're both mental," Hermione said, making Harry twitch. Then, however, he considered it, and felt no need to deny it anymore. Therefore, he grinned widely.

"What's wrong with that?"

Hermione blinked, no doubt shocked by the lack of objection from Harry, but before she should say a word, Harry nodded toward her hair.

"I see you gave up the Sleekeazy," he said, grinning still. "You know, the offer still stands. Some magical tampering with the scalp, and you'll have smooth, wavy hair like Nym here has-" Harry stopped and saw that Tonks once more had short, pink hair. "Er... I mean, had."

"No thanks," Hermione said, huffing. "By the way, have you gotten anywhere with your egg?"

"My egg? Oh, right, my egg!" Harry said, snapping his fingers and looking to the corner of the lab, where the golden egg lay, with a thin layer of dust on it. "I haven't really considered opening it yet. Been busy, you know."

"Harry! You need to solve the clue inside!"

"Fine, fine, I'll open it," Harry said, walking over to the egg and picking it up, brushing the dust off it. Then, he dug his fingernails into the groove that ran all the way around it and opened it.

It was hollow and completely empty, but the moment Harry opened it, the most horrible noise, a loud and screechy wailiing, filled the room.

"Shut it!" Tonks yelled, her hands clapped over her ears. Harry slammed the egg shut and peered at it curiously.

"Well, that was informative."

"Was it?" Tonks asked, blinking. "I thought it was kind of ear-splitting, rather than informative... Sounded kinda like a banshee..."

"No, it was informative alright," Harry said, studying the egg. "Perhaps I can only listen to it in a certain element... Like in a certain temperature, or under water, or underground..."

"What are you thinking?" Hermione asked, no doubt recognizing the thoughtful look on Harry's face.

"If I remember correctly, merfolk cannot be heard properly above the surface of the water, and it would take an expert in speaking their language to recognize it above ground..."

"You think it's merfolk, then?" Tonks asked, but Harry shrugged.

"I won't know until I open this egg under water," he said. "I think it's time for me to break into the prefects' bathroom."

"Ooh, I've never been in there!" Tonks said, smiling brightly. "Can I come? We can skinny dip together," she spoke in a singsong voice. Harry smirked.

"Of course you can come."

That night, Harry and Tonks moved through the quiet castle, making sure not to run into Filch or Mrs. Norris, and when they reached the statue of Boris the Bewildered, a lost-looking wizard with his gloves on the wrong hands, Harry closed his eyes and turned the bolt in his head, trying to remember which door was the right one.

"Harry, how do you know where the prefects' bathroom is?" Tonks wanted to know as Harry approached one of the doors, trying to pull it open only to find it locked.

"Oh, I've followed several prefects here during the last four years," Harry whispered back as he took out his wand, pressing the tip against the door. "Purge!" he hissed, and what looked like yellow lightning traveled down the length of the wand, into the door. With a click, it opened.

"What did you just do?" Tonks asked as Harry held the door open for her to enter.

"I basically entered my magic into the magic password mechanism and overrode it, making the door think I gave it the password," Harry explained simply, following her inside, bolting the door behind them, before looking around.

The room was softly lit by a splendid candle-filled chandelier, and everything was made of white marble, including what looked like an empty, rectangular swimming pool sunk into the middle of the floor. About a hundred golden taps stood all around the pool's edges, each with a differently colored jewel set into its handle. There was also a diving board. Long white linen curtains hung at the windows, a large pile of fluffy white towels sat in a corner, and there was a single golden-framed painting on the wall. It featured a blonde mermaid who was fast asleep on a rock, her long hair over her face. It fluttered every time she snored.

As Harry amused himself for a while turning the different taps, watching in fascination as various mixes poured out of them, one with pink and blue bubbles the size of footballs, another with ice-white foam so thick that Harry was sure it would have supported his weight if he cared to test it, and a third with heavily perfumed purple clouds hovering over the water, Tonks made a show of undressing next to him, moving her hips to a tune only she could hear as she disrobed.

"Come on, Harry," she said once the deep pool was full of hot water, foam, and bubbles, "let's see that body again."

Harry undressed, not as showy as Tonks, and together they slipped into the warm water, both breathing a sigh of relief. The two were tall enough to just barely be able to stand on the bottom and keep their heads above water. Of course, Tonks' normal height wouldn't have been enough, but she had metamorphed her legs longer.

"Now, time for the egg," Harry said, reaching for the golden egg at the edge of the pool. His hand was grabbed by Tonks, however, who turned him around with a sultry smirk on her face.

"Do you want to play with your egg, or do you want to play with me?"

"I-" Harry started, but as soon as he opened his mouth, it was invaded by Tonks' tongue, and they got involved in a furious tongue war.

When they broke the kiss, Harry looked thoughtful.

"I guess the egg can wait."

"That thing won't rust, will it?" Tonks asked, nodding for the bolt, and Harry shook his head.

"Nope."

Tonks grinned. "Good."

With that, she kissed him again.

–

Well, there you have it, the tenth chapter! Please leave a review and tell me what you think!

11. Chapter 11

Hi, all! ZenoNoKyuubi here with a fresh chapter straight out of my head! Please enjoy! Sorry that a lot was lifted from canon. I'm just trying to get past this part as fast as possible.

–

"'Come seek us where our voices sound,'" Harry muttered as he sat in his lab, puffing on a cigarette in thought. "That one's easy, merfolk in the lake. 'We've taken what you'll sorely miss,' now what could that be? What would I sorely miss? 'An hour long you'll have to look,' now that one was easy, too."

Harry leaned back in his chair and took a long drag on his cigarette, before blowing out smoke rings. Then, he scoffed.

"Bah, why did they make things so easy?" he muttered to himself, turning the bolt three times, then slowly a fourth time. "What I'll sorely miss... My lab? My stuff? My brain?"

Letting out another "Bah!" Harry rolled his caster-wheel chair over to his alchemy lab, chopping up a piece of gillyweed and burning it. He put the ashes in a test tube, then grabbed another test tube that was put over the fire, containing a bubbling, blue liquid. He poured the gillyweed ashes into the liquid, turning it a blue-green color, then put it to simmer over the fire again, once more leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms as he puffed on his cigarette.

"Man, I'd rather be taking another bath with Tonks right now..."

–

Journal, January 24th, 1995,

The second task is approaching. I find myself with nothing to work on, and it bugs me something fierce. The morphine is perfect, so I cannot work on that. Tonks provides a good distraction from my work, but I can't wait until the end of next school year, when I can finally join the Unspeakables and study the brain in the Department of Mysteries.

–

Journal, January 29th, 1995,

Started studying the effects of my morphine on Zeus. He seems to be enjoying it well enough. Boredom is gripping me. I don't know what to do... Maybe I should just cut myself open... But then again, I have already found out everything I can about the human body. I could always get back to working on my magic eyeball. That should work to ease my boredom.

–

Journal, February 7th, 1995,

Finished creating my magical eyeball. With luck, it should be able to zoom in on objects, and be able to see magical cores. Now I just need to test it, preferably before I cut out my own eye. Perhaps I can somehow sever the connection to my optical nerve temporarily, and somehow connect it to the eyeball. It's worth a try...

Note, the time is twenty-five minutes past five in the evening. With magic, I have severed the magical connection in the optical nerve in my right eye, and have rerouted it through my right arm, into my wand, and through there into the eyeball. The creation is a huge success. I can see better than ever with this eyes, and turning it... yes, I can see my magical core. It would seem as though magical cores manifest as that which defines your character. Hence, my core has my trademark bolt through it.

–

Journal, February 9th, 1995,

With Tonks help, I performed self-surgery, and cut out my right eye. I made sure to cut along the line where I had cut the last time I cut open my face. I don't want too much stitching there, after all. My right eye has been replaced, but I have discovered a flaw in my experiment. I made this eye better than any eye ever. Therefore, the eye cannot look properly through my glasses. I will need to replace the right lens with ordinary glass.

–

"Ordinary life sure is boring, eh?" Harry spoke as he walked through Hogwarts with Hermione, turning his bolt a couple of times.

"You have a bolt sticking through your head, you cut yourself open, and you play with alchemy and chemistry locked up in your lab, and you consider your life to be ordinary?"

"At present, I'm not doing any of those things, so yes, my life is pretty ordinary," Harry said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I want to dissect something..."

"Just don't go crazy and dissect Professor Flitwick," Hermione said, steering him toward the Charms classroom. Harry was always too preoccupied to be bothered to go to class, so Hermione always had to steer him in the right direction.

February the twenty-fourth felt like it took forever to arrive, but arrive it did, and now Harry stood on the bank of the lake with the other three champions. Mr. Crouch had failed to show up again, and Percy Weasley had taken the position of judge for today. Ludo Bagman had spaced them along the bank at intervals of ten feet. Harry was on the very end of the line, next to Krum, who was wearing swimming trunks and was holding his wand ready.

"Alright, Harry?" Bagman whispered as he moved Harry a few feet farther away from Krum. "Know what you're going to do?"

"Obviously," Harry said with a nod, reaching into his pocket.

Bagman gave Harry's shoulder a quick squeeze and returned to the judges' table. He pointed his wand at his throat, said, "Sonorus!" and his voice boomed out across the dark water toward the stands.

"Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One... two... three!"

The whistle echoed shrilly in the cold, still air. The stands erupted with cheers and applause. Harry pulled off his shoes and socks calmly, with no rush, and then took a test tube out of his pocket, which had the blue-green liquid in it. He pulled the stopper and downed the liquid, then waded out into the lake, pocketing the test tube.

He could hear laughter in the crowd, but didn't care about that. Instead, he waited until he started having a hard time breathing. He reached up and felt his neck, feeling three large slits on the side of it. Nodding to himself, he dove into the water. His hands and feet had become webbed, so he shot like a bullet through the water as he swam, deeper and deeper into the lake. He closed his left eye and kept his right eye open, zooming into the murky green distance. There, far, far away, he saw four small dots, one a lighter shade of green, another red, one a golden yellow, and the other... pink!

"Tonks?" Harry asked, but all that came out was a bubble. He swallowed a large gulp of water and felt it pass through his gills, sending oxygen back to his brain. They had taken Tonks?!

Gritting his teeth, Harry swam faster, following the dots of light in the distance. He swam on for at least twenty minutes, straight in the direction of the lights. He was passing over vast expanses of black mud now, which swirled murkily as he disturbed the water. Then, at long last, he heard a snatch of haunting mersong.

"An hour long you have to look,

And to recover what we took..."

Harry swam faster and soon saw a large rock emerge out of the muddy water ahead. It had paintings of merpeople on it. They were carrying spears and chasing what looked like the giant squid. Harry swam on past the rock, following the mersong.

"...your time's half gone, so tarry not,

Lest what you seek stays here to rot..."

Like hell Harry was going to let that happen! If there was one person he truly cared about in this world, it was Tonks. Sure, Hermione was a great friend, but she was no Tonks.

A cluster of crude stone dwellings stained with algae loomed suddenly out of the gloom on all sides. Here and there at the dark windows, Harry saw faces... faces that bore no resemblance at all to the painting of the mermaid in the prefects' bathroom, who had giggled and watched Harry and Tonks' romp in the pool.

The merpeople had grayish skin and long, wild, dark green hair. Their eyes were yellow, as were their broken teeth, and they wore thick ropes of pebbles around their necks. They leered at Harry as he swam past. One or two of them emerged from their caves to watch him better, their powerful, silver fish tails beating the water, spears clutched in their hands.

Harry sped on, staring around, and soon the dwellings became more numerous. There were gardens of weed around some of them, and he even saw a pet grindylow tied to a stake outside one door. Merpeople were emerging on all sides now, watching him eagerly, pointing at his webbed hands and gills, talking behind their hands to one another. Harry sped aorund a corner and a very strange sight met his eyes.

A whole crowd of merpeople was floating in front of the houses that lined what looked like a mer-version of a village square. A choir of merpeople was singing in the middle, calling the champions toward them, and behind them rose a crude sort of statue, a gigantic merperson hewn from a boulder. Four people were bound tightly to the tail of the stone merperson.

Tonks was tied between Hermione and Cho Chang. There was also a girl who looked no older than eight, whose clouds of silvery hair made Harry feel sure that she was Fleur Delacour's sister. All four of them appeared to be in a very deep sleep. Their heads were lolling onto their shoulders, and fine streams of bubbles kept issuing from their mouths.

Harry sped over to Tonks and took out his wand, pointing it at the ropes binding her. There was a flash of red light, and the bonds were cut. He then grabbed her around the waist and started swimming upward. After about ten minutes of swimming, the water was still dark enough to tell him that he was still very deep.

The darkness thinned about ten more minutes later. He could see daylight above him as he swam faster. Then, his head broke the surface of the lake, and he used his free hand to take out his wand and press it to his neck, his gills vanishing as he pulled Tonks up above the surface as well.

Tonks immediately woke up as soon as her head broke the surface, and she expelled a great spout of water, before grinning widely and hugging Harry.

"My savior!" she called with a fake dramatic voice.

The crowd in the stands was making a great deal of noise. Shouting and screaming, they all seemed to be on their feet. Harry and Tonks started swimming toward the bank where the judges stood watching. Madame Maxime and Karkaroff looked quite sour, but Bagman and Dumbledore were beaming at Harry as they came nearer. Dumbledore helped Tonks out of the water, and Bagman pulled Harry to his feet, patting him on the back.

"Come here, you two," Madam Pomfrey said, bustling over from a row of benches, where Fleur Delacour was being restrained by Madame Maxime. She was attempting to go back into the water. Madam Pomfrey seized both Harry and Tonks and moved them over to the benches, wrapped them so tightly in a blanket that they felt as though they were in straitjackets, and forced a measure of Pepperup Potion down their throats. Steam gushed out of their ears.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and looked to Tonks.

"Now wasn't that a nice break from everyday life?"

He was answered with a fierce kiss from Tonks.

"I'm what you'd miss the most!" she said happily once she broke the kiss. Harry scoffed and turned the bolt three times.

"No! I'd miss my brain the most, but they couldn't take that, so they settled for what I'd miss second most."

"But I'm the person you'd miss the most," Tonks said, to which Harry nodded.

"Of course. After all, you're my Nym."

For that statement, he was rewarded with another kiss.

They waited another ten minutes before the surface of the water was broken by Cedric, pulling Cho with him. Then, several minutes later, Krum showed up with Hermione, followed by a group of merfolk carrying Fleur's sister.

"Gabrielle!" Fleur cried as the girl was taken to the bank of the lake, where Dumbledore helped the girl to her feet. Fleur pried herself out of Madame Maxime's grip and rushed over to her, saying something that Harry didn't quite catch.

"Harry, well done!" Hermione cried as she was sat down next to Harry, with Krum on her other side. "You did it, you found out how all by yourself!"

"So I did," Harry said, nodding, but he couldn't say anymore, as Tonks pulled him in for another kiss.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice boomed out beside them, making everyone except Harry jump, "we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions as follows...

"Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points."

Applause from the stands.

"Harry Potter, using a concoction believed to have been brewed from gillyweed, was first to return with his hostage, fifty-one minutes into the task." Enormous cheers from the Gryffindors in the crowd. "We therefore award him full marks, fifty points."

The cheers grew, if possible, as the whole school, save for the Slytherins, applauded him.

"Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was second to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour. We award him forty-seven points.

"Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was third and last to return with his hostage. We award him forty points."

Karkaroff clapped particularly hard, looking very superior.

"The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June," Bagman continued. "The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions."

Well, now it was back to everyday life, Harry supposed as Madam Pomfrey began herding the champions and hostages back to the castle to get into dry clothes. Well, at least until June the twenty-fourth.

–

"HARRY!"

Harry and Tonks, who had been very busy snogging in Harry's lab, jumped at the sound of Hermione's voice as she climbed down the ladder, looking like fury incarnate.

"Good morning to you too, Hermione," Harry said pleasantly. "What can I help you with?"

"This!" Hermione cried, lifting up her shirt to reveal her stomach, where several lines had been drawn with a black marker. "What did you do to me last night? How did you get up to the girls' dorms?!"

"Healed you up pretty nicely, didn't I?" Harry asked with a wide grin on his face, Tonks still sitting in his lap. "Can't even tell I cut you."

"You... I... Why...!" Hermione gave off a frustrated cry, looking on the verge of drawing her wand. She seemed to decide against it, however, and instead spun around, leaving the lab.

"What did you do to her last night?" Tonks asked once the lid to the trunk had slammed shut.

"I just drew a little on her," Harry said. "I never actually cut her open. I just wanted to see how she'd react."

Tonks couldn't help but laugh at that, and soon enough, Harry joined in.

It took him a while, but Harry finally managed to convince Hermione that he hadn't actually cut her open, but just wanted to see her reaction. She looked a bit suspicious, but seemed to accept his explanation.

So now, they were sitting in Potions class, Hermione glaring daggers at him, while Harry just smirked.

"I can't believe you did that," Hermione hissed crossly as she stirred her cauldron. Harry, standing at him own cauldron, chuckling quietly.

"I just drew a little on you. Be grateful I didn't actually cut you open and poked around inside you."

"You shouldn't have been able to get up to my dormitory at all," Hermione whispered, glaring at Harry. "How did you get past the protective spells preventing boys from going up the staircase?"

"Simple, I merely overrode the charms with my magic and made them believe that I was a girl," Harry said, adding powdered scarab beetles to his potion, stirring it seven times clockwise.

Just as Harry tipped his ginger roots into the cauldron, there was a knock on the dungeon door.

"Enter," Snape said in his usual voice.

The class looked around as the door opened. Karkaroff came in. Everyone watched him as he walked up toward Snape's desk. He was twisting his finger around his goatee and looking agitated.

"Wow, his magical core is in an uproar," Harry spoke interestedly as he turned his bolt, observing Karkaroff's magical core, which was twisting and writhing nervously. Snape's core immediately tensed when Karkaroff spoke to him.

"His...? How can you tell?" Hermione asked, squinting at Karkaroff as if trying to see through his clothing. Harry smiled as he turned to Hermione, pointing at his right eye.

"Magic eyeball, much like Moody's, only less advanced. I didn't want to make it too big, after all. I can only zoom in on things, and see people's magical cores, or souls, or whatever you want to call them."

Karkaroff hovered behind Snape's desk for the rest of the double period. He seemed intent on preventing Snape from slipping away. Keen to overhear what Karkaroff wanted to say, Harry deliberately knocked over his bottle of armadillo bile with two minutes to go to the bell, which gave him an excuse to duck down behind his cauldron and mop up while the rest of the class moved noisily toward the door.

"What's so urgent?" he heard Snape hiss at Karkaroff, but it was just barely, and he spoke very quietly.

"This," Karkaroff said, and Harry, peering around the edge of his cauldron, saw Karkaroff pull up the left-hand sleeve of his robe and show Snape something on his inner forearm.

"Well?" Karkaroff said. "Do you see? It's never been this clear, never since-"

"Put it away!" Snape snarled, his black eyes sweeping the classroom.

"But you must have noticed-" Karkaroff began in an agitated voice.

"We can talk later, Karkaroff!" Snape spat. "Potter! What are you doing?"

"Clearing up my armadillo bile, Professor," Harry said, straightening up and showing Snape the sodden rag he was holding.

Karkaroff turned on his heel and strode out of the dungeon. He looked both worried and angry. Harry shrunk his books and ingredients and put them in his bag, before leaving the classroom.

–

Journal, March 7th, 1995,

Gotten back to work creating a Philosopher's Stone. As expected, it's not something anyone could do. The formula has to be exact, but what that formula is, I have no idea. It is a shame that Nicolas Flamel is dead, or I could have asked him for pointers. Then again, I doubt he'd help anyone who looks like a mad scientist, anyway.

–

Journal, March 13th, 1995,

Started my research into dragon's blood and its various uses. Dumbledore has discovered twelve of those uses. I am intending on finding more, if only one more. However, if it is vastly beneficial, the kind you don't want falling into the wrong hands, I do not intend to publish my work. After all, I wouldn't want any Dark wizard to get their hands on something like my Growth Potion. That would be bad.

–

Journal, March 19th, 1995,

I have discovered something amazing. The magical protection in a dragon's hide is largely in thanks to the dragon's blood. With luck, I should be able to create a permanent Iron Skin Potion, which should be able to block the more basic spells. I don't know how it would do against the Unforgivables, but I have already taken precautions against those. I know exactly how to deal with the Unforgivables, should I go up against them in the future.

–

Journal, March 28th, 1995,

Haven't slept for five days, been too busy working on my Iron Skin Potion. As expected, I managed to separate the magical properties that protect a dragon's hide and scales, and have managed to integrate it with some of my leftover Re'em blood. This should be perfect for my potion. The Re'em blood should enhance my strength as well as give me magical protection now. I am one step closer to immortality!

–

Journal, April 3rd, 1995,

The Iron Skin Potion is currently brewing. Another couple of days, and it should be good to drink. The strengthening properties and magical protection should become permanent in, at the very least, two days. Hopefully, this will not be a waste, as I used up half my dragon blood for this.

In other news, my Philosopher's Stone is a failure. One left to dry up, the potions created a lump of black... something, I don't know, instead of a Stone. I shall, however, try again, and again, and again. There is no way I cannot do this. There just isn't! I will create a Philosopher's Stone, if it's the last thing I do!

–

Harry stood in his lab, holding a test tube filled with a black liquid in his hand. He downed the liquid, then waited.

As expected, his skin started burning as though it was on fire, and his muscles contracted painfully, making him collapse to his knees, grunting in pain.

"Endure..." Harry spoke through gritted teeth as he raised a shaky hand, turning the bolt in his head. "Endure it...!"

The burning intensified, and Harry wrapped his arms around his stomach, as it felt as though his innards were being melted by acid. Was the potion a failure? It couldn't have been. He made sure everything was flawless before he drank it! It simmered for just the right amount of time, with just enough Re'em blood, and just enough of all other ingredients!

Then, slowly, the pain started to slowly dissipate, and Harry let himself breathe a sigh of relief.

The pain disappeared, and Harry reached up, removing his glasses and running a hand over his face, discovering that it was covered in sweat. Not surprising, really.

"Phew!" Harry breathed as he rose shakily to his feet, putting on his glasses once more. He waved his wand toward his dictating quill, and it immediately stood up.

"Journal, April Sixth, Nineteen ninety-five," he spoke as the quill started writing. "Iron Skin Potion appears to be a success. I feel much stronger, I have to admit." Harry picked up his chair with one hand and started swinging it around. "I am much stronger. Will start working on the Philosopher's Stone and my magic research once more once I get used to my newfound strength and, hopefully, my magical protection."

The lid to Harry's trunk opened, and Harry deactivated the dictating quill as Hermione came climbing down.

"Good morning, Harry," she said once she reached the bottom of the ladder. "Are you actually planning on coming to class today, or are you still too busy working on... Why are you covered in sweat?"

"Just went through some changes, nothing to worry about," Harry said, walking over to Hermione and patting her on the shoulder. "Come on, Hermione, don't loiter, or we'll be late for class."

Hermione twitched with righteous anger, but she didn't say anything, instead just following Harry quietly up the ladder.

April passed with no great successes for Harry. The Philosopher's Stone remained out of his reach, something that frustrated him something fierce. Luckily, Tonks was there to comfort him both emotionally and sexually, for which he was very grateful.

He thought nothing fun was ever going to happen until finally, in the last week of May, Professor McGonagall held him back after Transfiguration.

"You are to go down to the Quidditch field tonight at nine o'clock, Potter," she told him. "Mr. Bagman will be there to tell the champions about the third task."

So at half past eight that night, Harry left Hermione in the Gryffindor Tower and went downstairs. As the crossed the entrance hall, Cedric came up from the Hufflepuff common room.

"What d'you reckon it's going to be?" he asked Harry as they went together down the stone steps, out into the cloudy night. "Fleur keeps going on about underground tunnels. She reckons we've got to find treasure."

"I rather doubt a treasure hunt will be the third task," Harry said, putting a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it. "No, they will have made this third task something great."

They walked down the dark lawn to the Quidditch field, turned through a gap in the stands, and walked out onto the field.

"What've they done to it?" Cedric said indignantly, stopping dead.

"Well, from the looks of things, they've grown hedges, haven't they?" Harry said simply, looking at Cedric as though he was a bit dim.

The Quidditch field was no longer smooth and flat. It looked as though somebody had been building long, low walls all over it that twisted and crisscrossed in every direction.

"Hello there!" a cheery voice called.

"Ludo Bagman was standing in the middle of the field with Krum and Fleur. Harry and Cedric made their way toward them, climbing over the hedges.

"Well, what d'you think?" Bagman said happily as Harry and Cedric climbed over the last hedge. "Growing nicely, aren't they? Give them a month, and Hagrid'll have them twenty feet high. Don't worry," he added, grinning, spotting the less-than-happy look on Cedric's face, "you'll have your Quidditch field back to normal once the task is over! Now, I imagine you can guess what we're making here?"

"A maze, obviously," Harry said, looking over the Quidditch field, taking in all the twists and turns, memorizing them to the best of his ability as he turned the bolt, puffing on his cigarette.

"That's right!" Bagman said. "A maze. The third task's really very straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the center of the maze. The first champion to touch it will receive full marks."

"We seemply 'ave to get zrough ze maze?" Fleur asked.

"There will be obstacles," Bagman said happily, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Hagrid is providing a number of creatures... then there will be spells that must be broken... all that sort of thing, you know. Now, the champion who is leading on points will get a head start into the maze." Bagman grinned at Harry. "Then Mr. Diggory will enter... then Mr. Krum... and finally Miss Delacour. But you'll all be in with a fighting chance, depending how well you get past the obstacles. Should be fun, eh?"

Harry raised a hand, and Bagman looked at him curiously.

"Do you have a question, Harry?"

"Yeah, what if we encounter each other in the maze?"

"Well, then you will either move on, or fight," Bagman said, grinning still. "After all, it's all up to the champions, depending on who you meet. Now, if you haven't got anymore questions, we'll go back up to the castle, shall we, it's a bit chilly..."

Bagman hurried alongside Harry as they began to wend their way out of the growing maze. Harry had the feeling that Bagman was going to start offering to help him, but just then, Krum tapped Harry on the shoulder.

"Could I haff a vord?"

"Sure," Harry said, nodding.

"Vill you valk vith me?"

"Alright."

Bagman looked slightly perturbed.

"I'll wait for you, Harry, shall I?"

"No, it's okay, Mr. Bagman," Harry said, taking a long drag on his cigarette. "I think I can find the castle on my own, thanks."

Harry and Krum left the stadium together, but Krum didn't set a course for the Durmstrang ship. Instead, he walked toward the forest.

"Is there a reason why we're going this way?" Harry wanted to know as they passed Hagrid's cabin and the illuminated Beauxbatons carriage.

"Don't vant to be overheard," Krum said shortly.

When at last they had reached a quiet stretch of ground a short way from the Beauxbatons horses' paddock, Krum stopped in the shade of the trees and turned to face Harry.

"I vant to know," he said, glowering, "vot there is between you and Hermy-own-ninny."

Harry blinked. Whatever he had expected, it wasn't this. It wasn't this at all.

"Nothing," he said. But Krum glowered at him, and Harry elaborated. "We're friends. If you think she's my girlfriend or something like that, you're very much mistaken."

"Hermy-own-ninny talks about you very often," Krum said, looking suspiciously at Harry.

"Yeah, because we're friends," Harry said, taking another drag on his cigarette. "While I love Hermione as a friend, and she's a very beautiful female, I already have a girlfriend."

"You... You do?"

"Yes, the woman I retrieved from the lake," Harry clarified. "Didn't you see her kiss me?"

"I did. I just thought..."

"I was some kind of playboy?" Harry asked with a laugh, and Krum looked a bit embarrassed. "Don't worry, there's nothing between me and Hermione."

Krum looked slightly happier. He opened his mouth to speak, but just then something moved behind Krum in the trees, and Harry instinctively grabbed Krum's arm and pulled him around.

"Vot is it?"

Harry shook his head, his wand already in his hand. Then, with a whispered, "Lumos," he lit up the wand and pointed the wandlight at the shadows, just as a man staggered out from behind a tall oak. It was Mr. Crouch.

He looked as though he'd been traveling for days. The knees of his robes were ripped and bloody, his face scratched. He was unshaven and gray with exhaustion. His neat hair and mustache were both in need of a wash and a trim. His strange appearance, however, was nothing to the way he was behaving. Muttering and gesticulating, Mr. Crouch appeared to be talking to someone that he alone could see.

"Vosn't he a judge?" Krum said, staring at Mr. Crouch. "Isn't he vith your Ministry?"

Harry nodded, then walked slowly toward Mr. Crouch, who did not look at him, but continued to talk to a nearby tree.

"...and when you've done that, Weatherby, send an owl to Dumbledore confirming the number of Durmstrang students who will be attending the tournament, Karkaroff has just sent word there will be twelve..."

"Mr. Crouch?" Harry said, reaching into his lab coat.

"...and then send another owl to Madame Maxime, because she might want to up the number of students she's bringing, now Karkaroff's made it a round dozen... do that, Weatherby, will you? Will you? Will..."

Mr. Crouch's eyes were bulging. He stood staring at the tree, muttering soundlessly at it. Then, he staggered sideways and fell to his knees.

"Mr. Crouch?" Harry said, kneeling next to Mr. Crouch, whose eyes were rolling in his head. He looked to Krum, who had followed him into the trees, and was looking down at Crouch in alarm.

"Vot is wrong with him?"

"From the looks of it," Harry said, prying Crouch's eyelid open and shining his wandlight into Crouch's eye, "I'd say he's been put under the Imperius Curse, but he's resisting it."

"Dumbledore!" Crouch gasped suddenly. He reached out and seized a handful of Harry's coat, dragging him closer, though his eyes were staring over Harry's head. "I need... see... Dumbledore..."

"Alright, Mr. Crouch," Harry said calmly. "If you get up, we can go up to the-"

"I've done... stupid thing..." Crouch breathed. He looked utterly mad. His eyes were rolling and bulging, and a trickle of spittle was sliding down his chin. Every word he spoke seemed to cost him a terrible effort. "Must... tell... Dumbledore..."

"You'll get to tell Dumbledore," Harry said calmly, taking a slim steel case out of his coat and opening it, to show an empty syringe, and a bottle filled with a clear liquid in it.

"Vot are you doing?" Krum asked as Harry started filling the syringe with the liquid.

"I'm giving him a sedative," Harry said, tapping the bubbles out of the syringe. "It'll be easier to get him to the castle that way."

He stuck the syringe into Crouch's neck and pushed the plunger, injecting the sedative into Crouch's bloodstream.

"Thank you, Weatherby, and when you have done that, I would like a cup of tea. My wife and son will be arriving shortly, we are... attending... a concert... with..." Crouch's eyes dropped, and slowly closed. He was now fast asleep, and Harry slung one of Crouch's arms over his shoulder after pocketing the case, lifting him up effortlessly.

"Come on, we need to get him to the castle," Harry told Krum, who rushed forward to help Harry with Crouch, and together they headed back to the castle, where Harry immediately steered the way toward the hospital wing.

–

Well, there you have it, the eleventh chapter! Please leave a review and tell me what you think!

12. Chapter 12

Hi, all! ZenoNoKyuubi here with a fresh chapter straight out of my head! Please enjoy!

–

"Imperius Curse," Albus Dumbledore spoke as he bent over the sleeping form of Barty Crouch, who was lying in a bed in the hospital wing. He was running his wand over the man, humming to himself. Behind him stood Harry, Tonks, and Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody.

"What, exactly, did Barty say?" Dumbledore asked as he looked away from Crouch, to Harry, who turned the bolt in his head with a hum.

"Just that he needed to see you, and that he had done something terrible."

"Nothing else?" Moody growled out, both his normal eye and his magic eye fixed on Harry, who hummed again.

"Not unless you want to hear what he talked about when he was delusional."

"Harry, I need you to come with me. Nymphadora, I would like you to patrol the castle, and Alastor, you will stay here and keep a watchful eye on Crouch. I do not want anyone coming near him until he wakes up, understood?"

"Don't worry, nothing will get past me," Moody growled, taking up position next to Crouch's bed, his eye spinning like crazy in its socket.

"Good. Come along then, Harry," Dumbledore said, walking out of the hospital wing, followed by Harry and Tonks. The two lovers shared a kiss once they exited the hospital wing, then went their separate ways, Tonks heading down the marble staircase, and Harry following Dumbledore to his office.

"Harry," Dumbledore said once he sat down in his chair behind his desk. "I need you to be careful. Wandering off at night is not very prudent for you, considering we have no idea who put your name in the Goblet of Fire."

"Don't worry, sir, I can take care of myself," Harry said, turning the bolt.

"I know you can, Harry, but what if the one who put your name in the goblet is stronger than you?" Dumbledore said, interlacing his fingers in front of his face, his elbows resting against his desk.

"Like I said, Professor, I can take care of myself," Harry said as he sat down in front of Dumbledore's desk. "Was that the only reason why you called me here?"

"No, Harry. I wanted you to know that I pulled some strings a couple of days ago. I have arranged for you to sit your NEWTs the day after your fifteenth birthday. I know that you find Hogwarts to be bereft of any more intellectual challenges. It will be sad to see that you will not be attending your full seventeen years, but I believe this is for the best."

Harry's eyes were wide from the moment that he heard that he got to sit his NEWTs.

"I... I don't know what to say," Harry said, turning the bolt once more. "Thank you, sir."

"You are most welcome, Harry. Now, it is late, and I believe it is time for you to go to bed," Dumbledore said, peering at Harry over the rim of his half-moon glasses, his eyes landing on the bolt. "Or whatever it is you do at night."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, rising from his seat.

With that, he left Dumbledore's office.

–

The next day, Harry passed the hospital wing, to find a large group of the teachers outside, along with Tonks. Harry approached her, and after greeting each other with a kiss, Harry turned the bolt and nodded toward the doors to the hospital wing.

"What's going on?"

"Mr. Crouch is dead," Tonks explained, making Harry's eyes widen.

"How?"

"I don't know. Mad-Eye says that he just started convulsing all of a sudden. He called for Madam Pomfrey, but before she could get there, Crouch died."

"Just like that?" Harry asked curiously, looking to the doorway. Tonks nodded.

"Just like that," she confirmed. "There were traces of magic on his body. Mad-Eye and Dumbledore suspect the Leashing Curse."

"Leashing Curse?" Harry asked, blinking. "I've never heard of that."

"Neither had I. Apparently, the Leashing Curse binds the victim to the caster. If the victim gets too far away, they start feeling unimaginable pain, and if they go even further, they die, just like that," Tonks said, snapping her fingers for emphasis.

"How interesting..." Harry muttered, rubbing his chin. "And who now would be powerful enough to cast a curse like that?"

"You don't think...?" Tonks gulped, no doubt recognizing the knowing look in Harry's eye. "You don't think it was... You-Know-Who?"

"It's entirely possible," Harry said, nodding.

Tonks shuddered. "But he's barely alive, right? You said it yourself, he's no more than smoke and vapor... He can't lift a wand."

"He could if he, like I suspect, has constructed a rudimentary body for himself. In the dream I told you about, he was capable of killing that Muggle, which means that he could carry a wand."

"You can do that? Build a body, I mean?"

"Of course," Harry said, nodding. "All you have to do it duplicate the organs, after you have researched enough on human anatomy, and create... a... dummy... body..."

Harry trailed off, staring into space as hundreds of ideas started flooding his mind. Tonks said something, but Harry didn't hear her. He also hardly even noticed that she was waving her hand in front of his face.

"...ry? Harry!"

Harry blinked and looked to Tonks, raising an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Are you alright? You kind of spaced out for a moment."

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Harry said, looking down at the ground as he continued to go through the ideas that went through his mind. "I... I gotta go, Nym, I'll see you later."

With that, Harry rushed off, his mind filled to the brim with ideas.

A body... Creating a body! It would be perfect for him! With all his studies into human anatomy, all his studies into magic, alchemy, never once had he ever thought of building a human body from scratch! This was brilliant! Harry couldn't help but cackle in delight as he ran through the corridors of Hogwarts castle, up the stairs, into the Gryffindor Tower, and down into his lab.

Once in his lab, Harry immediately dug out his books on human anatomy, studying it intensely.

For three whole days, Harry stayed cooped up in his lab, never eating or sleeping, reading the book over and over, until he had memorized every bone, every tendon, every muscle, every organ in the human body.

It was Tonks who found Harry sitting in his caster-wheel chair in his lab on the fourth day, smoking a cigarette and staring up at the ceiling with his mouth half-open, and a deadened look in his eyes.

"Harry?" Tonks said, getting no response from Harry, whose mouth opened a bit more, but no sound came out. "Harry!"

Harry jumped, blinking, and took a long drag on his cigarette, before going back to the parchment laid out on his desk, picking up a quill and dipping it in an ink well before going back to drawing and writing.

"This... connects to the patella... tibia... Quadriceps..." He descended into incoherent mumbling, and Tonks moved over to him, looking over a his shoulder to see a very detailed drawing of a human. Harry was currently drawing musculature over the skeleton, mumbling to himself. On the sides of the drawing were several drawings of various small bones.

"Harry," Tonks said, shaking Harry's shoulder. Harry spat out the stump of the cigarette that was dangling from his mouth and took out a new one, lighting it with his wand, still mumbling. "Harry!"

Harry jerked once more, blinking several times, then looked over his shoulder at Tonks.

"Oh, hello, Nym. How can I help you?"

"Are you alright, Harry? I haven't seen you for days," Tonks said, looking concerned as she stared into Harry's bloodshot eyes. "You haven't slept?"

"Haven't had time to sleep," Harry said, turning the bolt as he looked back at his drawing. "I'm on the verge of something great here, Nym."

"What?" Tonks asked, sounding interested.

"Cloning."

"Coning?"

"Cloning," Harry repeated. "Cloning is the process of creating copies of DNA fragments, cells, or organisms. In this case, I am working on the process of creating a picture perfect copy of... myself."

"You're gonna cone- I mean, clone yourself?"

"That I am," Harry said with a grin on his face. "Can you imagine it? Someone exactly like me to help me in my experiments, someone with my brains, my memories, my face, everything will be exactly as I am."

"Exactly?"

"Well... I won't give him a Thought-Bolt, and he won't have my sexy stitches, but other than that, he will be exactly like me."

"Wicked," was all Tonks could say, grinning like a madwoman.

–

Tick, tock... Tick, tock... Tick, tock...

Harry blinked his eyes open, taking in his surroundings. He was standing on the flat side of a spinning cog. The room he was in was filled with cogs, both small and enormous, all of them spinning and stopping, spinning and stopping, in synch with the steady tick, tock...

Every time the cog stopped, Harry took a step, then another, and another, until he reached a small platform with a black door whose paint was peeling. Slowly he reached for the door, but it opened without him touching it, and he took a step into a gloomy passageway, walking over to a room at the very end. He went through the doorway, into a dark room whose windows were boarded up...

There were two dark shapes on the floor beside a high-backed chair, and both of them were stirring...

One was a huge snake, and the other was a man, a short, balding man, a man with watery eyes and a pointed nose... he was wheezing and sobbing on the hearth rug...

"You are in luck, Wormtail," a cold, high-pitched voice said from the depths of the chair, and Harry noticed an owl sitting on the backrest of it. "You are very fortunate indeed. Your blunder has not ruined everything. He is dead."

"My Lord!" the man on the floor gasped. "My Lord, I am... I am so pleased... and so sorry..."

"Nagini," the cold voice said, "you are out of luck. I will not be feeding Wormtail to you, after all... but never mind, never mind... there is still Harry Potter..."

The snake hissed, and Harry could see its tongue fluttering.

"Now, Wormtail," the cold voice said, "perhaps one more little reminder why I will not tolerate another blunder from you..."

"My Lord... no... I beg you..."

The tip of a wand emerged from around the back of the chair. It was pointing at Wormtail.

"Crucio!" the cold voice said.

Wormtail screamed, screamed as though every nerve in his body were on fire, the screaming filled Harry's ears as the scar on his forehead seared with pain...

Harry's head shot up from his desk with such force that his chair tipped backwards, and he hit the floor hard, hitting his head against it. His scar was burning badly, and he was sweating slightly, his breathing heavy.

"Another dream, huh?" Harry asked out loud, still on the floor as he dug a cigarette out of his pocket and put it in his mouth, lighting it with his wand. He lay on the floor for a while, puffing on the cigarette and just staring up at the ceiling in thought.

He went through all he had learned in that dream. First, Voldemort had received an owl, no doubt from his servant there at Hogwarts. That limited the number of people who could be the leak down to the faculty, as they were the only ones who knew about Crouch's death. Second, it was confirmed that Voldemort was indeed behind Crouch's death. Third, it confirmed that Voldemort had, in fact, created a rudimentary body for himself...

A grin slowly spread on Harry's face, his teeth clamping down on the cigarette.

"Things sure are getting interesting, eh?"

–

Journal, June 6th, 1995,

Still working on the clone body. I have ordered a considerable amount of pig flesh, bone, and entrails. I intend to convert it to the desired shape of a human male. I have also ordered in a lot of black human hair. Hopefully, my experiment will prove to be a success, and I will have a convincing double to act as my assistant, take my place in classes, and so on. Now, I just have to go about transmuting the pig parts...

–

Journal, June 13th, 1995,

Failure after failure! Converting pig's bones into human bones is a lot harder than it would seem, and the muscles even more so! It is so frustrating. I cannot seem to muster the concentration it takes to make the transmutation... It is incredibly draining on the mind. However, if everyone stopped after a failure or six, we would never have made the advancements we have, both in the Muggle world and the magic world! Therefore, I shall continue!

–

Journal, June 20th, 1995,

Two weeks since I first got the pig parts. I have kept them in my fridge to keep them from rotting, thanks to an Expansion Charm on the inside of the fridge. But it is increasingly harder to make the transmutation... I have managed to create a skull, hopefully the same shape as my own, and have created a stasis field around it for when I clothe it with muscles and flesh, along with the rest of the body once I make it. Hopefully, I will have it done before summer, but I don't know. It's very hard...

–

"Ah, it fell..." Harry muttered as a piece of sausage fell off his fork during breakfast on the morning of the third task. Despite the Thought-Bolt keeping his brain active and in pristine condition, he still couldn't go six whole days without sleep and not feel the effects of that. And today was the third task!

"What fell, Harry?" Hermione asked, blinking. Harry pointed to his plate and speared his sausage with his fork again.

"My sausage. It fell off the fork, without me making any movement to make it happen..."

"Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione wanted to know, looking at him in concern. "You don't look too good..."

"I may have to get some sleep before the third task, but other than that, I'm great," Harry said unconvincingly as just then he missed his mouth and pressed his piece of sausage against his cheek. "You know what, scratch that, I'm not okay. I'm tired."

Just then, Professor McGonagall came walking along the Gryffindor table toward them.

"Potter, the champions are congregating in the chamber off the hall after breakfast," she said.

"To meet with our families, right?" Harry asked in boredom, biting down on his sausage, finally not missing it with his mouth.

"That's correct, Potter. As the champions' families are invited to watch the final task, this is a chance for you to greet them," Professor McGonagall said, and then moved away. Harry sighed and rested his head against his fist, his elbow propped up against the table.

"I'd rather just go to sleep..."

Harry finished his breakfast in the emptying Great Hall, then got up after Fleur and Cedric had headed into the side chamber, joining Krum as he slouched off to join them.

Cedric and his parents were just inside the door. Krum joined his parents over in a corner, conversing in rapid Bulgarian. On the other side of the room, Fleur was jabbering away in French to her mother. Fleur's little sister, who Harry had picked up was named Gabrielle, was holding her mother's hand. She caught Harry's eyes just as Harry reached up, turning the bolt in his head. She giggled. Then, Harry saw Sirius, Lupin, and Tonks standing in front of the fireplace, beaming at him.

"Alright, Harry?" Sirius asked with a grin as Harry approached. "You're looking a bit worse-for-wear, I have to say."

"I haven't slept for six days," Harry said, yawning as he kept turning the bolt in his head. "I was actually planning on sleeping the day away, so you'll excuse me if I don't have time to give you a tour."

"Well, we just came to wish you good luck," Tonks said, kissing him, which got a playful pretend-bark from Sirius, who grinned widely. "Don't let us hold you up."

"Yeah, I'll see you guys later," Harry said, waving as he walked off. As soon as he left the side chamber, however, he was joined by Tonks, who grinned at him.

"How about I join you?"

"Sorry, Nym, I'm too tired to play right now," Harry said, but Tonks' grin was replaced with a gentle smile.

"Oh, don't worry, I only want to cradle your head in my bosom and slowly turn your Thought-Bolt as you drift off to sleep," she said, and Harry smiled softly.

"That does sound nice."

And so, that evening, a somewhat rested Harry made his way down to the Quidditch pitch with Cedric, Fleur, Krum, and Bagman.

"Feeling alright, Harry?" Bagman asked as they went down the stone steps onto the grounds. "Confident?"

Harry nodded, but in all honesty, he could care less about the third task. He had already lost interest. All he was interested in now was making his clone. But now that he had joined the tournament, there was no backing out, and all that he had to look forward to was meeting Voldemort, and perhaps getting a blood sample from Fleur inside the maze.

They reached the Quidditch pitch, which was now completely unrecognizable. A twenty-foot high hedge ran all the way around the edge of it. There was a gap right in front of them: the entrance to the vast maze. The passage beyond looked very dark.

Harry slowly turned his bolt as he made sure to study what Fleur's magical core, or soul, looked like. It was a bright, golden yellow, and wouldn't be easy to miss among the green from Cedric and dark blue from Krum.

The stands were beginning to fill and the air was full of excited voices and the rumbling of feet as the hundreds of students filed into their seats. Hagrid, Moody, Lupin, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick came walking into the stadium and approached Bagman and the champions. They were wearing large, red, luminous stars on their hats, all except Hagrid, who had his on the back of his moleskin vest.

"We are going to be patrolling the outside of the maze," Professor McGonagall said to the champions. "If you get into difficulty, and wish to be rescued, send red sparks into the air, and one of us will come and get you, do you understand?"

The champions nodded.

"Off you go, then!" Bagman said brightly to the five patrollers. He pointed his wand at his throat, muttered, "Sonorus," and his magically magnified voice echoed into the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! In first place, with ninety-three points... Mr. Harry Potter, of Hogwarts School!" The cheers and applause sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky. "In second place, with eighty-five points... Mr. Cedric Diggory, also of Hogwarts School!" More ear-shattering applause came from the crowd. "In third place, with eighty points... Mr Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!" More applause. "And in fourth place... Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!" There was more polite applause and Harry leaned his head back, lighting the cigarette dangling from his mouth. A calm smile appeared on his face.

"The sky looks nice today... Feels like something ominous is about to happen..."

"So... on my whistle, Harry!" Bagman said. "Three... two... one..."

He gave a short blast on his whistle, and Harry walked into the maze, his hands in his pockets.

After about fifty yards, Harry reached a fork in the maze. He took out his wand and rapped himself over the head, feeling a cold sensation as though someone had just cracked an egg over his head as he Disillusioned himself. He moved over to the hedge and pressed himself against it as he heard Bagman's whistle go off a second time. He waited, and watched as Cedric rushed past him. The whistle sounded for the third time, and within moments Krum ran past him. Then came the fourth whistle, and Fleur came running into the maze.

Harry watched Fleur pass him, then followed her, reaching into his pocket and taking out a specially prepared syringe filled with a sedative, enough to put her to sleep.

Harry followed Fleur for another five minutes as she turned left and right, not encountering any obstacles. Then, he rushed forward and wrapped his arm around her, pinning her arms to the side as he stuck the needle in her neck and pressed the plunger. He hushed her as she struggled against him, but slowly, the struggling died down, and her eyes drooped shut. She was asleep.

Harry laid Fleur down on the ground, then yanked a couple of hairs out of her head, before drawing a blood sample. He then shot red sparks into the air, and hurried off into the maze, rapping himself on the head with his wand and removing the Disillusionment Charm.

As he ran, Harry whispered, "Lumos," and lit up his wand, pointing it ahead of him to see where he was going. He reached another fork and turned right, then another, and another. If Harry wasn't already a bit mad, he was sure he would have been so after getting through this maze. It felt like the hedges were closing in on him...

"Wow, a man could go mad in here," Harry spoke with a small smile on his face as he put out his cigarette, immediately lighting another one.

He continued on for another fifteen minutes, turning left and right, then right again, until he came upon a strange, golden mist floating ahead of him. He approached it cautiously, humming as he looked the mist over. He ran his wand over it, and when he cast the Diagnostics Charm, a plethora of information welled into his mind.

"So simple..." Harry said with a smirk, stepping into the mist.

The world turned upside-down. Harry was hanging from the ground, with his hair on end, threatening to fall into the bottomless sky. Closing his eyes, he pulled his right foot away from the grassy ceiling, and immediately the world righted itself. Harry took a few steps forward, then turned to the golden mist, which was glittering innocently at him.

"How absurdly simple," he said, shaking his head, before hurrying off down the path.

In the distance, another ten minutes later, Harry saw red sparks shoot into the air, and knew that another champion had been taken out of the running, which left only two: Harry and someone else. This task was just too easy.

Just... too... easy...

Harry stopped, right in front of a creature he recognized from his books as a sphinx, and thought hard. Was he supposed to win? It sure seemed like it... Shrugging, Harry grinned slightly and turned to the sphinx, who looked at him with her almond-shaped eyes. Then she spoke, in a deep, hoarse voice.

"You are very near your goal. The quickest way is past me."

"So, let me pass," Harry said, but the sphinx shook her head, pacing from side to side of the path.

"No. Not unless you can answer my riddle. Answer on your first guess, I let you pass. Answer wrongly, I attack. Remain silent, I will let you walk away from me unscathed."

"Alright, give me the riddle."

"First think of the person who lives in disguise,

Who deals in secrets and tells naught but lies.

Next, tell me what's always the last thing to mend,

The middle of middle and end of the end?

And finally give me the sound often heard

During the search for a hard-to-find word.

Now string them together, and answer me this,

Which creature would you be unwilling to kiss?"

Harry blinked, taking a long drag on his cigarette.

"That's it?"

The sphinx blinked at him, sitting back on her hind legs, and smiled at him.

"That's easy, then. Spy, D, and logically, the other should be 'Er,' making the creature I'd be unwilling to kiss a 'Spider.'"

The sphinx smiled more broadly. She got up, stretched her front legs, and then moved aside for him to pass.

"Thank you," Harry said, rushing past her. He would have loved to have stayed and cut the sphinx open, but he had a meeting to attend, and he didn't want to be late. He reached a fork and turned right, dashing up it and seeing light ahead.

The Triwizard Cup was gleaming on a plinth a hundred yards away. Smiling, Harry started walking toward it, not feeling like running.

He reached the cup, and cast a Diagnostics Charm on it. Immediately, he was assaulted with information. So, the cup was a Portkey, eh? Smiling, Harry reached out, and grabbed the cup.

Instantly, he felt a jerk somewhere behind his navel. His feet left the ground, and the Triwizard Cup pulling him onward in a howl of wind and swirling color.

–

Harry felt his feet slam into the ground, and he dropped the Triwizard Cup, looking around.

He had left the Hogwarts grounds completely. He had obviously traveled miles, perhaps hundreds of miles, for even the mountains surrounding the castle were gone. He was standing in a dark and overgrown graveyard. The black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to his right. A hill rose above him to his left. Harry could just make out the outline of a fine old house on the hillside.

Harry bent down and picked up the cigarette he had dropped when he landed, and put it in his mouth, puffing on it.

"I seem to have traveled pretty far..." he muttered to himself as he took a good look around.

He activated his right eye and looked through the darkness, seeing a small magical core approaching, a core that had started to darken at the very center of it, suggesting that it was influenced by Dark magic. It was holding another magical core, this one much larger, which was completely black, outlines with a faint, sickly green glow.

The person who approached was shorter than Harry, and was wearing a hooded cloak pulled up over his head to obscure his face. The man raised his wand, just as Harry's scar exploded with pain. His wand slipped from his fingers, and his cigarette fell out of his mouth as he collapsed to his knees, clutching his forehead.

"Stun him!" he heard a high, cold voice order, and Harry's eyes shot open just in time to see a red light heading toward him. Ignoring the pain in his scar, Harry rolled to the side and shot to his feet, rushing the man using his impressive leg muscles. Then, he cocked his arm back, and hit the man in the chest with an open palm strike, yelling, "Purge!"

The man cried out in pain as he was sent flying back, dropping the bundle in his arms as what looked like yellow lightning arched along Harry's arm. The man slammed into the ground, panting from the pain, and raised his wand again.

"S-Stupefy!"

Another jet of red light soared toward Harry, who leaned to the side to avoid it, then rushed forward again.

"Purge!" he exclaimed as he slammed his palm down into the man's chest, hitting him so hard that he felt a few of the man's ribs break as he channeled his magic into the man's magical core, short-circuiting it.

"Wormtail! Wormtail!" the voice called from the bundle on the ground as Harry took the wand from the man, who was twitching from the pain, unable to move. He pocketed the wand, then made his way over to the bundle on the ground, opening it to show the most hideous sight he had ever seen.

The thing on the ground had the shape of a crouched human child, except that Harry had never seen anything less like a child. It was hairless and scaly-looking, a dark, raw, reddish black. Its arms and legs were thin and feeble, and its face... no child alive ever had a face like that... flat and snakelike, with gleaming red eyes.

"Lord Voldemort," Harry said, digging another cigarette out of his pocket, moving to light it, only to remember that he had dropped his wand. With a whisper of "Lumos," his wand lit up in the grass, and Harry picked it up, just in time for the biggest snake he had ever seen to come lunging from within the grass at him, its maw opened to bite him.

Harry rolled to the side, then pointed his wand at the snake.

There was a bright flash of light, and the snake's head was suddenly sliced clean off its thigh-thick neck. The creature in the bundle cried out with rage, bringing Harry's attention to it once more.

"Oh, you now," Harry said, moving back over to Voldemort and kneeling in front of him. "I have been wanting to meet you again for the longest time, did you know that?"

The creature glared at Harry.

"Harry Potter..." it hissed.

"Aah, you created it," Harry said, a look of bliss on his face as he poked the feeble body with his wand. "You actually managed to create a rudimentary body... How did you do it? Tell me, please. The longer you talk, the longer you live."

"Why should I tell you anything?" Voldemort hissed dangerously as he kept glaring up at Harry, whose blissful look disappeared, and he stared down at Voldemort in disappointment.

"We're both men of magical science, are we not?" he asked as he kept poking the body with his wand. "We should be able to compare notes on this subject, as I have also been working on trying to make a human body. I see you didn't get too far in making it, though. Shame, that."

"Wormtail!" Voldemort cried, and the sniveling man struggled to get up.

"Stupefy," Harry said lazily, pointing his wand at Wormtail. The red light hit the man, who slumped to the ground again, motionless. Then, Harry looked back at Voldemort. "Are you sure you're not going to tell me?"

"I would never tell you anything, Potter!" Voldemort hissed.

A wide grin appeared on Harry's face, and he reached into his coat, taking out a metal case the size of a pocket book, opening it to reveal a multitude of surgical tools.

"Well then, I guess I'll just have to find out on my own. I'm sorry, but I don't have any anesthetics on me."

That was a complete lie, but Voldemort didn't need to know that. Harry's grin widened as he picked up a scalpel, the light from the moon high in the sky reflecting in his glasses and almost making them shine as he placed his hand on Voldemort's chest and lowered the scalpel to it.

"Now then, let's start the experiment."

–

Well, there you have it, the twelfth chapter! Please leave a review and tell me what you think!

13. Chapter 13

Hi, all! ZenoNoKyuubi here with a fresh chapter straight out of my head! Please enjoy! From now on, updates will be much slower, as I don't have a storyline to hitch a ride with, but don't worry, I won't abandon this fic!

–

Harry's feet touched the grass inside the maze as cheers erupted from the stands. The hedges were magically lowered as the Quidditch pitch was flooded with people, who were rushing forward to congratulate him.

Harry lit the cigarette dangling from his mouth with his wand, and the crowd stopped dead in their tracks when they saw what Harry was holding.

He was holding the collar of the twitching in fear rat known as Peter Pettigrew, who looked like he'd rather be anywhere but where he was at that moment.

Teachers pushed their way to the front of the crowd, led by Albus Dumbledore and Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic.

"Good evening," Harry said, slowly reaching up and turning the bolt in his head. "I have news," he told Dumbledore and Fudge.

"S-Seize him!" Fudge yelled immediately, pointing at Pettigrew, who tried to crawl away, only to be pulled back by Harry, who held his collar tighter.

Tonks came rushing forward, and with a wink at Harry, she grabbed Pettigrew and hauled him to his feet, her wand poking him in the back of the neck.

"Take him back to the Ministry, and put him in a cell where he can't escape!" Fudge ordered, and Tonks nodded, before walking off with Pettigrew. Now Fudge turned to Harry. "What the devil happened, Harry?"

"It was Voldemort," Harry said, as gasps went through the crowd, which was listening intently to what Harry had to say. "He was trying to get back a human body, but don't worry, I stopped him. There is always the chance that he'll come back again, however," he explained as Fudge started sweating. "I never found out how he intended to bring himself back, as he was surprisingly tight-lipped. However, I killed his rudimentary body, so he shouldn't be more than smoke and vapor again."

"W-Well..." Fudge gulped loudly. But then, however, he plastered on a brilliant smile, walking forward and wringing Harry's hand. "Well done, my boy! Well done! I will make sure you get an Order of Merlin for this!"

The crowd cheered once more, and Harry looked around, turning his bolt.

"But there is still the issue of his faithful servant here at Hogwarts," Harry said, humming.

"We will worry about that after the feast," Fudge said, waving him off. "First, raise the cup, Harry. Claim your victory!"

Harry nodded as he grabbed the Triwizard Cup that had fallen to the ground, and lifted it high above his head.

Cheers erupted once more, and ear-shattering applause were heard as Harry held the cup raised. The crowd charged forward, and they lifted Harry up, bobbing him up and down as they steered the way toward the castle for the feast.

–

Journal, June 25th, 1995,

My vivisection of Voldemort's rudimentary body gave me untold amounts of information. It seems that through his veins flowed a strange combination of unicorn blood, snake venom, and several other ingredients that I was unable to identify. The unicorn blood was obviously that which kept the body stable, despite that such a maimed soul was in it. I have learned that the body must contain a soul to live, and that the body must be fed unicorn blood to stay alive. Hopefully, I will be able to move around this obstacle, however, as I don't have enough unicorn blood to keep a body going for more than a few days. Therefore, I must first find a way for the body to only need one dose of unicorn blood.

–

Journal, June 28th, 1995,

The body is halfway done. I have created the skull, the upper body, and the arms, and I have managed to create the muscles for all those parts. All that is left now is to create the pelvis and the legs, and then create the spine and give the body skin and hair. I have studied my musculature intently, and I am sure that I have duplicated it perfectly.

I have also started my research into veela blood. I have discovered several anomalies in Fleur's blood that should be the source of her veela allure. I will try to duplicate the anomaly, and synthesize it in aerosol form. Perhaps I can replicate the veela allure that way? There's only one way to find out. I shall have to try.

–

Journal, July 3rd, 1995,

Addition to my entry on June 25th: It was discovered on the morning of the 25th that Mad-Eye Moody had been impersonated by someone who could only be a Death Eater. It was discovered when Moody didn't show up for breakfast, and investigations found that Moody's leg and eye were in the guest quarters provided for him, and the real Moody was found in his trunk. Obviously, he was the one who put my name in the Goblet of Fire.

Now, I am on my way home. I can hardly wait until- Nym could you wait until I've finished my journal- Don't touch there now! Oh, now look what the quill wrote! Whatever, I'm the only one who will be reading this, anyway... Ahem. I can hardly wait until my fifteenth birthday, after which I can finally sit my NEWTs and join the Unspeakables. They are fools, however, if they think I will wear any sort of uniform...

–

Journal, July 7th, 1995,

The body is complete, now all I need is a brain and a soul. I have no idea how to construct a brain, however. Perhaps I will modify my Life metal and give it a sort of sentience? Maybe that could work? Even if it does, I still need a soul, and it's not like I can just grab some random person in the street and take their soul. If I did, the clone wouldn't be me. No, what I need to do is to come up with some way to split my own soul, and give half to my clone... But how do I do that?

Side-note, I have modified my right eye. It is now capable of seeing magic in all its forms, not just the magical cores. This should prove useful in detecting and analyzing curses, wards, etcetera.

–

Journal, July 9th, 1995,

Finally managed to analyze and break down the permanent sticking charm on Walburga's portrait. I have removed the sticking charm, and we have taken down her portrait, burning it. Now we won't have to deal with her screaming anymore, thank Merlin for that...

–

"Damn it!" Harry exclaimed one day as he rolled back in his chair, across his laboratory to his alchemy station. His Life metal was bubbling, and hopefully, this formula would allow him to create a proper brain. Hopefully... His thought process was interrupted by sounds coming from downstairs. His brow furrowed, and he rolled over to the door, opening it and rolling out into the hallway.

"Oi, Sirius! What's with all the noise?" he yelled, only to get no response. The people downstairs were making too much noise to hear him. Sighing, Harry spun around and pressed his foot against the door frame and kicked off, rolling backwards down the hall at high speeds.

He reached the stairs, and promptly started tumbling down them.

Thump! "Ow!" Thump! "Fuck!" Thump! "Shite!" Thump! "Damn it!" Thump! "Ow!" Thump! "Ow!"

With one final thump, Harry crashed into the ground floor, groaning. In the ground floor hallway was a large group of people, including the Weasley family, Tonks, the real Moody, and several people he didn't recognize,

"Damn it... Something just didn't feel right..." Harry muttered, getting to his feet and turning his bolt three times, just as Sirius came running out of the kitchen to see what all the commotion was about. "That should do it." Harry straightened up and lifted his chair. "Okay! Let me try that again!"

He headed up the stairs with his chair and went down the hallway to his lab again, sat down on the chair, and pushed off once more, rolling toward the stairs...

...and promptly tumbling down them again.

Thump! "Ow!" Thump! "Ooh!" Thump! "Fuck!" Thump! "Ow!" Thump! "Shite!" Thump! "Damn it!" Thump!

Everyone stared at Harry as he lay on the floor on his back, his cigarette dangling from him mouth. He blinked several times, then looked to the crowd in the hallway.

"So, what's all the commotion about?"

"Are you alright, Harry?" Sirius asked in concern, while Tonks just looked amused.

"I'm fine, nothing to worry about. So, what's all the commotion about?" Harry asked again, lighting his cigarette with his wand, still lying on the floor.

"This is the Order of the Phoenix," Sirius explained, gesturing for the group. "Dumbledore's anti-Voldemort group."

"I see..." Harry said, getting up and sitting down on the chair backwards, leaning forward against the backrest. "And what do you people do?"

"Can't tell you that, Harry," Sirius said, pretending to zip his lips shut. "Top secret stuff."

"I see..." Harry said again, getting up from the chair. "Well, I'm busy, so keep the noise to a minimum, will you?"

"I won't make any promises."

Harry grumbled to himself as he headed back up the stairs with his chair, puffing on his cigarette.

July thirty-first arrived quickly, and Harry celebrated his birthday by spending the day in his lab, like every other day. This time, however, he was working on something incredibly important. He sat in front of his operating table, connecting the pons of a lump of metal the size of a human brain to the medula oblongata of his clone body, which looked exactly like him, only without the stitches or the Thought-Bolt.

"Good, good," Harry muttered to himself as he let go of the brain, which was now connected to the spinal cord. "Now all it needs is my memories, and a soul..."

Harry had already made copies of pretty much all of his memories and put them in the pensieve that Sirius had got for him for his birthday, which he had found in the old Black vault in Gringotts. Harry started turning a crank on the operating table, and the table started tilting, putting the clone, which was tightly strapped to the table, in an upright position. Then, he opened a slot in the Life brain he had created, grabbed his pensieve, and poured the contents into the brain, then shut the slot.

Harry turned the crank again, until the table was horizontal once more, and then sat down in his chair, rolling away to his door, opening it to find Tonks outside, her hand raised as if to knock.

"Hey, Nym," Harry said with a smile.

"How did you know I was out here?" Tonks asked, and Harry just tapped his finger against the corner of his right eye, and Tonks let out an "Aah..." in understanding. She stepped inside and walked over to the clone. "Ooh, he really looks like you! Any idea what you're going to name him?"

"I'm thinking... Adrian," Harry said, rolling over to the operating table, next to Tonks. "However I need to find a way to give him a piece of my soul."

"How are you going to do that?"

"I don't know yet," Harry said, puffing on his cigarette.

"So, are you ready to sit your NEWTs tomorrow?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Harry said, staring at Adrian. "Aah, why does splitting your soul have to be so hard? Why can't I just will it to happen?"

"Because that would be too easy," Tonks said simply, patting him on the head. "Now, why don't we get your mind off Adrian for a moment?"

"What did you have in mind?" Harry asked, glancing at Tonks, who moved over to the door, locking it, before disrobing. "Oh. Yeah, I can live with that."

–

Harry stood in the vast Atrium of the Ministry of Magic, his hands behind his back and an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth. Security had tightened, with the threat of a possible return to power from Lord Voldemort, and at Dumbledore's suggestion, all suspected Death Eaters from the last war had been put under surveillance. But that wasn't what Harry was there for. He had sat his NEWTs, gotten his apparation license, and was now waiting for Alastair Creed, the Unspeakable who wanted to recruit him.

"Mr. Potter!" came a voice through the crowd, and Harry turned to see a man with short, gray hair and a goatee, wearing robes of bright blue. He looked to be in his late fifties, and was coming out of one of the golden elevators at the end of the Atrium. He shook Harry's hand when he reached him. "I'm Alastair Creed, it's a pleasure to meet such a great mind."

"Likewise, Mr. Creed," Harry said. "But you must know, if you want me to work with you in your department, I won't be wearing any form of uniform. My normal clothes, or I walk."

"Of course, of course, we have no particular dress code. We have a rule that you must wear clothes, that's all," Creed said with a grin. "Come, let me give you a tour of the Department of Mysteries."

"Very well."

The two stepped into one of the elevators, shutting the grilles, and the elevator jangled and clattered as it slowly started moving downward, deeper into the Ministry of Magic.

"Level seven, Department of Magical Games and Sports, incorporating the British and Irish Quidditch League Headquarters, Official Gobstones Club, and Ludicrous Patents Office," a cool, female voice spoke as the lift stopped and the doors opened, allowing a few of the others in the lift to step out, and two people to enter.

The doors shut with a crash, and the lift moved downward again.

"Level six, Department of Magical Transport, incorporating the Floo Network Authority, Broom Regulatory Control, Portkey Office, and Apparation Test Center..." After several more stops, he finally heard the cool voice say, "Department of Mysteries."

"This way, Mr. Potter," Creed said as the lift doors rattled open, and they headed down a corridor with bare walls, toward a black door set at the very end of the corridor. Creed, however, stopped just outside it, and he turned to Harry.

"Now, regardless if you accept the post or not, I need you to give an wizard's oath that you will not reveal what you see down here."

Harry took out his wand and lazily held it up like a sword.

"I solemnly swear on my life and my magic that I shall not reveal anything inside the Department of Mysteries to anyone other than Unspeakables."

There was a bright flash of light, and Creed smiled in satisfaction.

"Good. Let's go in," he said and pushed open the door. Harry followed, but had to admit that Creed didn't really check for any loopholes in that oath. Harry had only sworn not to reveal anything, as in showing anyone anything. He said nothing about talking about it.

They found themselves standing in a large, circular room. Everything in here was black, including the floor and ceiling. Identical, unmarked, handle-less black doors were set at intervals all around the black walls, interspersed with branches of candles whose flames burned blue, their cool, shimmering light reflected in the shining marble floor so that it looked as though there was dark water underfoot.

Creed shut the door, and the room became so dark that for a moment the only thing they could see were the bunches of shivering blue flames on the walls and their ghostly reflections in the floor below. There was a great rumbling noise, and the candles began to move sideways. For a few seconds, the blue flames around them were blurred to resemble neon lines as the wall sped around, and then, quite as suddenly as it had started, the rumbling stopped and everything became stationary once again.

"What was that about?" Harry asked Creed, who smiled.

"If anyone who shouldn't be here came in, they would be running back and forth, door to door, trying to find the right one, which would give us time to find them. But there is a trick to it," Creed said, then spoke clearly, "Death Chamber."

A door to their right swung open, and Creed gestured for Harry to follow him, walking into the room.

The room was very large, dimly lit and rectangular, and the center of it was sunken, forming a great stone pit some twenty feet below them. They were standing on the topmost tier of what seemed to be stone benches running all around the room and descending in steep steps like an amphitheater. There was a raised stone dais in the center of the lowered floor, and upon this dais stood a stone archway that looked so ancient, cracked, and crumbling that Harry was amazed the thing was still standing. Unsupported by any surrounding wall, the archway was hung with a tattered black curtain or veil which, despite the complete stillness of the cold surrounding air, was fluttering very slightly as though it had just been touched. The room was filled with wizards, most of them sitting on the benches, scribbling on parchments, or muttering lowly to each other, but there were two wizards by the archway, running their wands over the veil and taking notes on parchment.

"This is the Death Chamber," Creed explained. "That Veil separates the worlds of the living and the dead, something like a portal, linking the two worlds. It is a one-way portal, however, so anyone who steps through is forever trapped in there. We have also discovered that some can hear the voices of their lost loved ones from behind the Veil. Curious, i'nnit?"

"Curious indeed," Harry said. "However, I am more interested in the chamber I will be working in."

"And that is?" Creed asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I have heard rumors of a room down here, a room where you study the brain. Is this true?"

"Ah," Creed said, looking a bit sour. "Yes, that rumor was a kick to the boys for us, considering it's one of the very few rumors that are true."

He led Harry back into the circular room, which started spinning once more as soon as the door closed behind them.

"Thought Chamber!" Creed said clearly, and a door right in front of them opened.

The room they entered was long and rectangular, lit by lamps hanging low on golden chains from the ceiling. It was quite empty, except for a few desks surrounding an enormous glass tank of deep green liquid. In this tank, a number of pearly-white brains were drifting around. Several wizards sat at the desks, writing on parchments, and one of them was standing by the tank, pointing his wand at one of the brains, which was floating near the surface. An image was floating in mid-air, like a television screen without a television, displaying several images at incredible speeds.

"Well, are you interested?" Creed asked, and Harry nodded.

"Very interested."

"Well then, let's get the paperwork signed, and I'll let you get to work!"

–

"Journal, August Fifth, Nineteen ninety-five," Harry spoke, standing over the open skull of his clone. "Started working in the Department of Mysteries today. I learned so much in only one day about the brain and its thought process, which leads me to believe that my Life brain was a bit... well, I suppose one could call it dull. There are still some rough patches I need to smooth out before I try to insert my soul into the body. We wouldn't want my clone to be dim, now would we?"

He removed the brain, severing its connection to the spinal cord, and then sat down in his chair, rolling off toward the workbench in the corner of the room. The brain was almost gelatinous in feel, and wobbled like jelly as he moved.

He set the brain down on the workbench and started prodding it with his wand.

For days, Harry spent the time not in the Department of Mysteries on working on his brain, learning more and more for each day that passed. It was amazing, really, the feats the human brain was capable of.

Finally, on August the fifteenth, his Life brain looked like a metallic version of a human brain, and he put it into designation Adrian's head.

Now all he needed was a piece of his soul. Heavy meditation became routine for him, as he recognized that his magical core held his soul as well. It would only be a matter of time before he figured out how to split it...

He was broken out of his meditative trance one day when a knock came upon his door. A look with his eye revealed Hermione's magical core standing outside his door. He cast a Disillusionment Charm on Adrian, then said, "Enter, Hermione."

"How did you know?" Hermione asked as she entered Harry's lab, only to get a mysterious smile reminiscent of the sphinx as an answer.

"What are you doing here, Hermione?" Harry wanted to know, ignoring Hermione's question.

"Professor Dumbledore invited me to stay here for the remainder of the summer holidays," Hermione said, and Harry grinned.

"Oh, you're lucky I've got work early, or you'd have to sleep with one eye open," he said, winking at her. She gave him a very cross look, and he raised his hands in defense. "Kidding! I'm kidding. You know I wouldn't cut you open without your consent."

"I'm not so sure about that..." Hermione said. Harry's grin disappeared, and he lit the cigarette in his mouth.

"Good. You shouldn't be."

"Harry, you know, you scare me sometimes," Hermione said, but her tone was light. No doubt, she had gotten used to Harry's behavior a long time ago. "So, what are you working on?"

"Can't tell you," Harry said, rolling over to his alchemy station and checking on his Philosopher's Stone, his umpteenth attempt at making it.

"Oh, is it Unspeakable stuff?" Hermione asked, but Harry shook his head.

"No, but you'd call it unethical and tattle on me."

"Oh, come on, Harry, I wouldn't tell on you," Hermione said, looking incredibly curious. "Tell me, please. What are you working on?"

"A clone," Harry said, sighing when he saw that the reaction of the unicorn blood was the same as the last time he tried to make a Philosopher's Stone.

"A... A what?"

"A clone," Harry repeated, rolling over to the operating table and removing the Disillusionment Charm from Adrian, making Hermione's eyes widen at what she saw.

"This..." Hermione walked over to Adrian and reached out, touching his cheek. "He looks exactly like you did before you got those horrible stitches on you..."

"I call him Adrian," Harry said, leaning forward against the backrest of his chair and puffing on his cigarette. "He'll be my brother and assistant."

"How will you get him to live, though?"

"Remember my Life metal?" Harry asked, and Hermione looked ill for a moment.

"How could I forget?"

"Well, I have constructed a brain out of Life, and poured all my memories into it, using my pensieve."

"And how did you make the body?"

"I merely transmuted pig parts, and turned them into human parts," Harry said simply.

"Harry, this is amazing! If you can get him to live... You'd be creating life!" Hermione said, not at all reacting how Harry had thought she'd react.

"Yeah, but without a soul..." Harry muttered, taking out his wand. "I have been working on a spell that should work, but I haven't dared to try it yet. It might not work, and I just wouldn't be able to handle another failure right now, what with my recent streak of failures when it comes to the Philosopher's Stone."

"Don't worry, I'm sure it will be fine," Hermione said gently.

Harry pressed the tip of his wand against his chest, then closed his eyes and concentrated.

"Scindo anima..." he whispered. Then, he cried out in pain when it felt like his heart was about to explode. An unimaginable pain, unlike anything he had ever felt before filled his entire being. Every nerve was on fire as he tried to pull his wand away from his chest, but found it stuck. He pulled harder, and the pain intensified. Hermione was looking shocked and hesitated, probably not sure if she should do something to help, or go and get someone.

"Don't... Don't do anything..." Harry spoke through gritted teeth. He pulled even harder on his wand, and with a tearing feeling, it felt like he ripped out his own heart, but what was attached to the wand, to the naked eye, was nothing, but Harry's activated right eye could see a blue orb shining at the tip of his wand: half his soul.

Panting, Harry pressed the tip of the wand against Adrian's chest and muttered, "Transferre anima..."

He watched as the soul slowly sank into Adrian's heart, where it stayed, bobbing slightly.

"That was painful..." Harry muttered as he slumped against the backrest of his chair, still panting slightly. He felt a bit... empty, but brushed off the feeling. It was probably just a side-effect of ripping his soul in half. "Now..."

Harry got up from his chair, wobbling slightly, and walked around the operating table, so that he and Hermione was on either side of it. Then he pressed his hand against Adrian's chest, yellow lightning crackling around his forearm.

"Purge!" he cried, shooting the lightning into Adrian's body. The body jerked once as the muscles in it contracted, then slumped once more. "Purge!" Harry cried again, once more shooting lightning into the body, which once more jerked. Then, Adrian's eyes flickered, and Harry felt a heartbeat under his hand.

Slowly, Adrian's eyes opened, but he immediately screwed them shut as the light hit him.

"Welcome to the land of the living, Adrian," Harry spoke with a grin. Adrian reached up a shaky hand to rub his eyes.

"Why..." Adrian cleared his dry throat, while Hermione just stood there, watching with her mouth agape. "Why does my eyes hurt?"

"You've never used them before," Harry explained, helping Adrian into a sitting position. Adrian slowly opened his eyes again and took a look around, squinting.

"This is... the lab... Your lab... My lab... Ours?"

"Yes, our lab," Harry said with a nod, a wide grin on his face. Adrian looked around, his eyes landing on Hermione.

"And you're... Hermione..." he said, reaching out and touching her face, which she didn't flinch away from, unlike when Harry touched her. "My best friend... Yet it feels like I've never gotten to know you, even if I remember you clearly..."

"It may take some time to get used to all of this," Harry said, straightening up. "You want a cigarette?"

"I don't smoke," Adrian said, making both of them go wide-eyed. "Wait a minute... I do smoke, don't I?"

"It would seem as though you have gained some, if only slight, independence," Harry said, prodding Adrian with his wand.

Adrian shakily swung his legs over the side of the table and got off it, the cover that had been covering his lower body falling to the ground, and making a blush appear on Hermione's face.

"Oh... Oh my..." she muttered, turning away. Adrian looked down at his bigger than average tool, then turned to Harry with a slight grin on his face.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," Harry said, walking around the table. "Now, how about you practice walking, and our poor, embarrassed little Hermione can go fetch you some of Sirius old teenage clothes?"

"I'll... I'll get right on that..." Hermione muttered as she hurriedly left the lab.

"I have been dreaming..." Adrian said as Harry helped him take his first steps. "Ever since you created my brain, I have had dreams, going through the memories you have provided me with, and I have reached a conclusion."

"And that is?" Harry asked, holding Adrian up until he could walk on his own.

"I am not you," Adrian said, and Harry grinned widely.

"That's right, you're not me. Your brain is what could be classified as a learning computer. From here on out, you will have to gain your own experiences. I won't be giving you anymore memories. From now on, it's your life to live."

"Are you my father, or are you my brother?"

"I'm your brother, Adrian," Harry said, his grin turning into a gentle smile. "I'll look after you."

The door opened again, and Hermione came in carrying a bundle of clothes in her arms. She looked at Adrian, and immediately looked away when she realized he was still naked.

"If it pleases you to look, look," Adrian said, spreading his arms out. Hermione huffed.

"I see you have inherited Harry's shyness..."

"What shyness?" both Harry and Adrian asked in unison, then looked at each other and grinned.

"Oh, great... Now there's two of them..." Hermione muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Don't worry, Hermione," Adrian said as he walked over to Hermione, taking the clothes out of her hands. "I'm not interested in cutting people, or myself, open. After all, Boss has already explored the human body thoroughly, and all that knowledge is in my head."

"Boss?" Harry asked, blinking as Adrian put on a pair of briefs, before getting into a pair of baggy, torn jeans.

"Sounds good, doesn't it?" Adrian said, putting on a black Weird Sisters tee-shirt, before grabbing the black leather jacket Hermione had found, putting it on as well. "I figured that since I'll be your assistant, I might as well call you that."

"I like it," Harry said with a grin. "Good call, Adrian."

–

THE BOY-WHO-LIVED BUILDS A BODY!

Late last night, on August the twenty-fifth, Harry Potter,

the Boy-Who-Lived, walked into the Ministry of Magic, a-

nd with him came someone who could only be described

as the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, writes Rita Skeeter,

Special Correspondent. When asked about who he was,

the lookalike claimed to be Adrian Potter, lab assistant a-

nd creation of Harry Potter. It would seem that Harry, w-

ho refuses to explain the procedure, has managed to co-

nstruct a body out of nothing, although sources confirm

that Harry Potter has made several orders for slaughter-

ed pigs. It is only logical to assume that the body was t-

ransmuted from the pig parts into a human body. When

asked why he did it, the Boy-Who-Lived claimed that he

had always wanted a brother, and since his parents are

dead, he might as well use his, in his own words, very i-

mpressive brain to make his own brother. Is this practi-

ce unethical, or is it a new revolutionary way to create

life? Time will tell.

More information on the feats of Harry Potter on page 3.

An exclusive interview with Adrian Potter on page 5.

"You're famous," Harry said at the breakfast table as he folded the Daily Prophet. The Weasley family and Sirius had been unable to stop staring at Adrian, who looked quite the opposite of the neat and clean Harry. Adrian was sloppily dressed in a tee-shirt and Sirius' old leather jacket. His pants were torn, and he wore a pair of biker boots.

"Let me see that," Adrian said, taking the newspaper from Harry and unfolding it, checking the frontpage. "Wow, they even have a picture of me. Now I'll probably get stared at more than you..."

"I see that, unlike Harry, you don't like attention," Hermione said, looking pleased, but was immediately shot down by Adrian.

"Oh, I love attention. Especially if it's female attention. However, I don't like to be looked at as though I were a science experiment, kinda like how the Weasleys and Sirius are looking at me."

Sirius and the Weasleys flinched, and immediately looked down at their plates. Well, except for Fred and George, who were still grinning like jackals as they stared at Adrian, both whispering, "Wicked..."

The door was heard opening, and running was heard in the hall. The door to the kitchen was slammed open, and there stood Tonks, wearing her purple Auror robes, with an excited grin on her face.

"You're alive!" she exclaimed as she rushed up to Adrian, pulling him to his feet and looking him over. "Ooh, not bad at all. You could have gone for the badarse look if you wanted, Harry," she said to Harry, then held out a hand for Adrian to shake. "Hello, Adrian, I'm-"

"Tonks, I know," Adrian said, shaking her hand. "I've had dreams about you. I'll refrain from calling you Nym, as you're not my girlfriend."

"So, are you still adjusting to your new life, or have you thought of a career path yet?"

"Well, the Boss has arranged for me to sit my own NEWTs right after I get a wand, but I was thinking of a career as an Auror," Adrian said, grinning. "I feel that would be good for me."

"He's not in his right mind," Harry said, shaking his head. "Nothing at all like me..."

"Well, we can't both be Unspeakables," Adrian said. "I want to forge my own path in life, not follow you wherever you lead."

"And I applaud you for that decision. I just don't see how being an Auror can be more fun than being an Unspeakable," Harry said, picking at his food. Then, he rose from his chair. "Come on, it's time to get you a wand before I head off to work."

"Finally," Adrian said, grinning. "I've been waiting for this."

–

Well, there you have it, the thirteenth chapter! Please leave a review and tell me what you think!

14. Chapter 14

Hi, all! ZenoNoKyuubi here with a fresh chapter straight out of my head! Please enjoy!

–

"Good afternoon."

Both Harry and Adrian jumped at the soft voice behind them as they stood in the tiny wand shop called Ollivanders. They both spun around, and the old man with his wide, pale eyes stared into Adrian's with great interest.

"Ah yes... Yes, yes, I was wondering whether you would turn up in my shop, Adrian Potter," Mr. Ollivander said, moving closer to Adrian and scrutinizing him. "Marvelous work, I must say. That wand you bought has served you well, I see, Mr. Potter," he said to Harry, turning his gaze to the mad scientist, who nodded. "Eleven inches, holly, with a phoenix feather core. Nice and supple. Excellent wand for all-around work."

"We make for an excellent team," Harry admitted, and Mr. Ollivander nodded, before turning to Adrian.

"Now, Mr. Potter, I suppose your wand arm is your right like your... er... brother?"

"Yes, sir," Adrian said, holding out his arm. Mr. Ollivander started measuring Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and round his head.

"I don't suppose I have to tell you about the peculiarities and traits of the Ollivander wands, do I?" Mr. Ollivander asked, and Adrian shook his head.

"No, sir. I remember when the Boss first came in here, so I know about the Ollivander wands."

Mr. Ollivander nodded and started rummaging around his shop, taking down boxes as the measuring tape moved on its own.

"That will do," Mr. Ollivander said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Ebony and dragon heartstring. Eight inches. Quite whippy."

Adrian took the wand and waved it, only to have it snatched back by Mr. Ollivander. Like Harry, Adrian tried and tried, and tried again, but no wand seemed to be a match for him. Mr. Ollivander looked thrilled.

"Oho, you are turning out to be just as tricky a customer as your brother! But not to worry, try this one. Maple and unicorn hair, ten inches, very flexible."

Adrian tried, but nothing happened.

"Very well, very well," Mr. Ollivander said after the thirty-first wand. "Here, how about this one... Holly and dragon heartstring, twelve inches, nice and supple, like your brother's."

Adrian took the wand, gave it a wave, and a shower of red and gold sparks shot out of it.

"Bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good," Mr. Ollivander said, chuckling to himself. "Well, we seem to have found your match, Mr. Potter."

Adrian paid seven Galleons for the wand, and Mr. Ollivander bowed them out of the shop.

"Well then, let's head to the Ministry so you can sit your NEWTs, while I head to work," Harry said, patting Adrian on the shoulder.

–

Harry left Adrian in the capable hands of Griselda Marchbanks, the head of the Wizarding Examinations Authority, and headed down into the Department of Mysteries, where he found a lot of Aurors standing outside the door leading into his department, including Tonks.

"What happened?" he asked Tonks, who leaned closer.

"Sturgis Podmore, you know, from the Order? He was assigned to guard this door, but was discovered, for some reason, trying to break into the Department of Mysteries. I think he was put under the Imperius Curse. Lucius Malfoy was down here earlier, after all."

"What do they want inside?" Harry whispered, turning the bolt in his head. Tonks shrugged.

"I don't know. Dumbledore just has us guarding this door day and night. I've no idea why."

"Let me go in and take a look around, see if I can't find anything that might interest Voldemort," Harry said, before making his way to the door, pushing through the crowd of Aurors.

Inside the circular room, he found an equally large amount of Unspeakables, murmuring to themselves, including Alastair Creed.

"Creed," Harry said, catching the man's attention. "I need to talk to you."

"What do you need, Harry?" Creed asked as they walked away from the crowd toward one of the doors, stopping right in front of it and looking at each other.

"Say, hypothetically, that Voldemort..." He paused as Creed shivered, "...has gotten back a human body, say he's back at full power. Would there be anything here that he might be interested in?"

Creed hummed, putting a hand on his chin and stroking his goatee.

"I think I may know of something," he said finally after a few minutes of thinking. "Follow me. Time Room!"

A door to their right swung open, and Harry and Creed made their way through it, into a long, rectangular room filled with a beautiful, dancing light that sparkled like gems. All kinds of time-related devices filled the chamber, such as clocks of every description, and Time-Turners. It also contained a large crystal bell jar at its far end, from which the sparkling light came. Inside it was an egg, which hatched into a hummingbird, which grew older and older, then reverted to an egg once more, repeating the cycle over and over. At the end of the room was another door, which led into a vast, cold chamber with a ceiling high as a cathedral. It was filled with row upon row of towering shelves. On these shelves were hundreds, even thousands of small, dusty glass orbs, each with a yellowed and dusty label affixed below. Candle-brackets set at intervals along the shelves held blue-flame candles.

"Come," Creed said, leading the way to the right of row fifty-three, all the way down to row ninety-seven. He headed down the aisle until they reached a glowing glass orb whose label read:

S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D.

Dark Lord

and (?) Harry Potter

Harry stared at the label in surprise. Someone had made a prophecy about him and Voldemort?

"Is it real?" he asked Creed, who nodded.

"It's real. Don't ask me what it says, though. Only the ones the prophecy is about can remove it from its shelf. Anyone else who tries will lose their mind."

Harry reached up and grabbed the glass orb. It was warm to the touch, as though the glow inside was a warming fire. Creed cleared his throat.

"I'll, uh, just leave you alone, then, shall I?"

Harry hummed as he reached up, turning the bolt while staring at the orb. Creed cleared his throat again, and with a nod he turned and walked off.

Harry examined the orb, and found that it could be opened. He took out his wand and tapped it. The glass orb snapped in half, and a pearly-white figure wrapped in shawls, with hugely magnified eyes, rose from within it.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."

The pearly-white figure sank back into the glass orb, which snapped shut, and Harry placed it back on its shelf. Humming, he walked off, digging a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it. Creed had told him he wasn't allowed to smoke in the Department of Mysteries, but Harry didn't give a damn about that.

–

"So, it's a prophecy?" Tonks spoke as she stood in Harry's lab with Harry, Hermione, and Adrian. Harry sat in his chair backwards, leaning forward against the backrest and puffing on his cigarette.

"Most likely, that's his target," Harry said with a nod. He reached up and turned the bolt, humming loudly. "Well, no point in sitting around thinking about it. Voldemort's back and he's laying low, so he won't go waltzing into the Department of Mysteries, and his Death Eaters can't get a hold of it."

"I wonder, would I be able to take down that prophecy?" Adrian mused, humming.

"Well, either way, I need to finish packing," Hermione said, then looked to Adrian. "Will you help me?"

"Of course," Adrian said with a nod, following Hermione out of the lab. Harry and Tonks watched them go.

"Those two are getting awfully chummy," Tonks said, and Harry hummed again, puffing on his cigarette.

"What could have been, I suppose."

"Had you not turned into a mad scientist, and hadn't found me irresistible, you mean?" Tonks asked, and Harry nodded.

"Yeah."

September arrived, and Hermione went on the train to Hogwarts, while Harry kept going to the Department of Mysteries, and Adrian was taken in by the Aurors. There would be years until he became a full-fledged Auror, however, which was why Harry felt that he was wasting his talents, training to be an Auror.

He was also starting to have dreams about the Department of Mysteries. He dreamed that he was walking down the dark corridor leading to the circular room, and just as he was about to touch the door, he woke up, a dull throbbing in his scar.

The scar usually hurt in connection with Voldemort, so... was he seeing into Voldemort's mind?

"Oi, Harry!" came Creed's voice one October morning as Harry stood in the Thought Chamber. He was currently poking one of the brains with his wand, studying the cerebellum.

"What do you need, Creed?" Harry asked, turning the bolt in his head.

"How many times must I tell you not to smoke in here?" Creed muttered as Harry puffed on his cigarette. "Anyway, I need you to come with me."

Harry nodded and removed his wand from the brain, following Creed out into the circular room, which started spinning as soon as the door closed behind them.

"Harry, is there a reason why your girlfriend is standing outside the door?" Creed asked, making Harry blink.

"No idea."

"This wouldn't happen to have anything with that hypothetical question you asked me at the end of August, would it?"

"Something like that, I think," Harry said, turning his Thought-Bolt.

"I see..." Creed said. All traces of humor disappeared from his face, and he looked incredibly serious. "Are we in any danger?"

"I believe Voldemort has performed a ritual that brought him back to full power," Harry said, making Creed go wide-eyed. "However, it would appear as though he is laying low for now, so I don't think you are in any-"

Harry cut himself off as one of the doors opened, and an Unspeakable came out of the Death Chamber, yawning.

"Well, I'm off, Alastair," the man said. "I've been here all night. Exit!"

The door to the exit opened, and Creed waved.

"Get some sleep Broderick."

Harry waited until Broderick Bode had left, before he looked to Creed again.

"Like I said, I don't think you are in any danger, since he's laying low at present."

"Should we tell Minister Fudge?" Creed asked, but Harry shook his head.

"Fudge is a fool. He will refuse to believe that Voldemort is back, and will probably make sure no one can say anything, to avoid mass panic. He'd rather have his people happy than have them learn the truth. And he's too obsessed with money. You've seen how he still keeps Malfoy around, despite him having been a suspected Death Eater."

"You suspect Lucius Malfoy is a Death Eater, then?" Creed wanted to know, and Harry nodded, puffing on his cigarette.

"I know he is."

"I see..." Creed said slowly. "We shall have to remain on guard, in that case. You can go home, Harry. I don't think there's anything left for you to do today."

"No, I finished my study on the brain for today, so yeah, I'm leaving," Harry said, waving at Creed, before heading for the door Bode had left through. Once outside, he cast a wandless and non-verbal Homenum Revelio, which revealed that Tonks was sitting by the door, covered by an Invisibility Cloak.

"Hello, Nym," Harry said with a smile. The Invisibility Cloak was pulled off his girlfriend, and she looked a bit frustrated.

"How did you know I was here?"

"Creed discovered you," Harry said, and she snapped her fingers.

"Damn, he must have heard my yawn..."

"Want to get the hell out of here?" Harry asked, but Tonks just threw the Invisibility Cloak over herself again.

"Want to, but can't. I have to stay here another two hours. I'll see you at Grimmauld."

"See you, Nym," Harry said, and walked off with a wave.

–

Journal, October 10th, 1995,

Deep meditation has allowed me to focus properly, and I have found myself glimpsing into Voldemort's mind. He wants the prophecy, there is no doubt about that, and he is angry that it isn't happening fast enough. He has instructed Lucius Malfoy to take care of it. I have warned the Order, but we don't know how he will be trying to get his hands on the prophecy.

In other news, my Philosopher's Stone was another failure. Even with Adrian at my side, I still find it difficult to make the Stone. I suppose it's true what they say. You can't get a good soup with too many chefs. But then again, we're not chefs, we're scientists. Or rather, a scientist and his clone assistant. So we can do it, I just know it. I just need to discover the right formula is all! Adrian has suggested that I take a break from trying to make the Stone, and gather my thoughts. I have agreed.

–

Journal, October 15th, 1995,

I have now started making the Philosopher's Stone again, with freshly charged batteries, as Adrian suggested. I am ready to try and make it once more. During my recharge period, I thought of something I haven't thought of before. A spider has immense strength, extreme agility, equilibrium, etcetera. If I could mix up a potion with the acromantula genes in it, I should be able to get some of its powers. Hopefully without shooting webbing out of my bum.

–

Journal, October 17th, 1995,

My Philosopher's Stone was another failure, but I had expected as much. I wasn't entirely focused on it this time, as I have been working on separating certain traits from the acromantula blood I have had stored. It is hard work, separating the various abilities from each other, but I can do it. Adrian is cheering me on, and begging me to make the potion for him too. It feels really good to have a brother, I have to admit. I've never really thought about it before, but now that I really think about it, I really like it. I feel a love toward Adrian that makes me want to protect him from anything that could possibly wish to harm him. At least... I think it is love. I have never felt love before, so I don't know how it feels. I do, however, feel an overwhelming urge to protect him, and protect him I will.

–

Journal, October 31st, 1995,

It has been a long time since my last entry. I have been too busy working on both the Philosopher's Stone and on my Acro Elixir to write in my journal. Now, for an update. I have successfully managed to separate the various abilities of an acromantula, and have started brewing the elixir. If my calculations are correct, I should be getting the strength of an acromantula, the speed, stamina, flexibility, and hopefully equilibrium, which should allow me to avoid falling down the stairs anymore.

The elixir is almost done. A few more days of simmering, and it should be complete. I had originally planned on testing it on Adrian, but my desire to keep him safe has prevented me from doing so, for some reason. Familiar love... is a strange thing, I have to admit. It must be studied further, I think.

–

Harry sat in his chair, humming to himself as he stared at the vial with a liquid inside it the color of acromantula blood. In front of him stood Adrian, his arms crossed.

"You should let me test it."

"No," Harry said adamantly.

"What if it doesn't work? What if it kills you?" Adrian said, obviously concerned. "If I die, you can always make another clone."

"Don't talk like that!" Harry said sternly, glaring at Adrian. "You're my brother, you've already started making a life for yourself. I'm not going to let you be my guinea pig."

"But what if you die?" Adrian asked. Harry shrugged.

"I'm too important to die," he said simply, before downing the liquid, getting a yell of protest from Adrian. He immediately dropped the test tube, which crashed into the floor, and clutched at his stomach in pain. It felt as though he had drank acid. His muscles started burning.

"Harry!" Adrian yelled, rushing over to his brother's side, looking unsure of what to do. "Harry, what do I do? Talk to me!"

"Don't... Don't worry yourself..." Harry muttered through gritted teeth. "Just a side-effect of my muscles enhancing themselves..."

"So... you're alright?" Adrian asked, still looking concerned. It was strange, it really was, to have someone be concerned about him, or rather, a brother who was concerned about him.

"I'm fine..." Harry muttered. The pain was already starting to go away.

"Did it work?" Adrian wanted to know, and Harry rolled over to the door, opening it and rolling out into the hall.

"Only one way to find out," he said, then kicked off the door frame, rolling off toward the stairs...

Thump! "Ow!" Thump! "Ooh!" Thump! "Ow!" Thump! "Shite!" Thump! "Fuck!" Thump! "Ow!" Thump!

Adrian rushed over to the stairs to see Harry on the ground floor, lying on the floor with his chair on top of him.

"Maybe... er... Maybe it needs some time to work?" Adrian suggested.

"You think?" Harry muttered, putting a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it.

And so, after a good night's sleep, Harry and Adrian were outside Harry's lab once more, Harry sitting in his chair and putting his feet up against the door frame.

"You know, there are easier ways to check if the elixir worked..." Adrian spoke, and Harry hummed, puffing on his cigarette.

"Perhaps, but this is more fun."

With that, Harry pushed off, rolling toward the stairs and shooting off the top step. He immediately started flipping in the air, but instead of crunching against the steps, his hands reached out by instinct, setting down on one of the steps and stopping. He stayed in that position, doing a handstand while sitting on his chair, with wide eyes and a huge grin on his face.

He looked up to see that Adrian was standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at him with equally wide eyes.

"Hey, it worked!" Adrian said, and Harry grinned.

"Now all I have to do is find out just how great my abilities are," Harry said as he started heading back up the stairs on his hands. As he reached the top step, he flipped onto his chair again and grinned at Adrian once more. "Now, how about you try it?"

Adrian grinned as well. "Gladly!"

–

Journal, November 5th, 1995,

I have been testing my newfound abilities after my success with the Acro Elixir. Here, and now, I record these abilities, so that I may compare them to others I may find using other elixirs.

Superhuman Strength – I possess superhuman strength whose limit I have yet to reach. There is nothing in this house or in the Department of Mysteries that I cannot lift, and when experimenting on Creed, I discovered that I could knock him into unconsciousness with naught but a tap to the head. This strength extends to my leg muscles as well, as I have managed to leap to the ceiling in the Hall of Prophecy, and that was without using all my strength.

Superhuman Speed – My leg muscles, with their incredible strength, allow me to catch up to an accelerating car with ease. I would say that I am capable of running and moving at speeds that are far beyond the natural physical limits of the finest human athlete.

Superhuman Stamina – My advanced musculature produces less fatigue toxins during physical activity than an ordinary human. This allows me to exert myself physically for much longer periods of time before fatigue begins to impair me, something that Nym has found to be quite a bonus in bed. I have also discovered that I am capable of holding my breath for much longer. So far, I have managed to hold my breath for eight minutes.

Superhuman Durability – My body is physically tougher and more resistant to some types of injury than the body of a normal human. My body is more resistant to impact forces than anything else. I can withstand great impacts, such as falling from a height of several stories or being struck, hypothetically, by an opponent with great strength.

Superhuman Agility – My agility, balance, and bodily coordination are all enhanced to levels that are far beyond the natural physical limits of the finest human athlete, to my knowledge. I am extraordinary limber and my tendons and connective tissues are twice as elastic as the average human being's, despite their enhanced strength. I have the combined agility and acrobatic prowess of the most accomplished circus aerialists and acrobats. I can also perform any complicated sequence of gymnastic stunts such as flips, rolls, and springs.

Superhuman Equilibrium – I possess the ability to achieve a state of perfect equilibrium in any position imaginable. I seem able to adjust my position by instinct, which enables me to balance myself on virtually any object, no matter how small or narrow.

Superhuman Reflexes – My reflexes are similarly enhanced and are currently about forty times greater than those of a normal human, which should serve to aid me in duels.

–

Journal, November 6th, 1995,

I have just given Adrian the Acro Elixir. It should greatly help him, considering he is about to become an Auror. I find myself growing more and more fond of Adrian the more time I spend with him. He is my equal in every way, yet has a mind of his own, a true brother, sharing my blood (and a bit of unicorn blood). So far, his body has shown no signs of breaking down, which just goes to show that I have become greater than Lord Voldemort in the field of constructing bodies.

Maybe I should give Nym the Acro Elixir as well?

–

"Nym..." Harry muttered as he sat in his bed one day, his arms wrapped around Tonks, who had her back against his chest, her eyes closed, looking content.

"Mm?" Tonks hummed without opening her eyes, a small smile on her face.

"What is love?"

"Love?" Tonks asked, blinking her eyes open. "What do you mean?"

"I know everything about love. I know it's a deep, powerful, and ineffable emotion of attachment to, and affection for, another being or beings. I know Dumbledore claims it gives those who experience it the ability to do great things. However, I... do not understand it..." Harry muttered, furrowing his brow.

"You'd know it if you felt it," Tonks said, turning around in Harry's arms and kissing him. "It's an unmistakable feeling."

"Is it a fierce desire to protect something from harm, consisting of increased heart rate, and various other symptoms?" Harry asked, and Tonks nodded.

"Something like that."

"Then I think I love you, Nym," Harry said, making Tonks go wide-eyed.

"You... You what?"

"I love you," Harry repeated. "Is that bad?"

"No, I'm just surprised someone like you is capable of feeling love," Tonks said, kissing him again. "I love you too, Harry."

"Feeling it, yes. However, I don't think I'm ever going to be able to understand the concept."

"That's what makes you so sexy, your constant search for understanding," Tonks said with a wink.

"Really? I thought it was my stitches that made me sexy," Harry said, and Tonks laughed.

"Well, that too."

The door to Harry's room was suddenly opened, and Adrian stepped in.

"Hey, Harry, I just- Oh, heey... Sorry, am I intruding?" he asked, seeing Harry and Tonks stark naked in bed.

"Not at all, Adrian, what is it?" Harry said, hugging Tonks closer to him.

"Well, I just received an owl, addressed to you," Adrian said, holding up an envelope. "I guess the post owls can't tell the difference between us yet."

Harry held out his hand, and Adrian walked over, handing him the envelope. Harry took it and opened it, reading the contents of the letter.

It was a letter from one of his contacts in the Muggle world. Apparently, there had been some kind of military operation that had taken place in ninety-four. Although Harry's contact hadn't picked up much regarding the operation, he had only just now managed to dig up words like 'Stargate,' and 'wormhole technology,' which Harry found to be extremely interesting. Sadly, though, Harry's contact hadn't managed to find out more, as his hacking had been discovered, and according to the letter the police were banging on his door while he was writing the letter.

"What's a Stargate?" Tonks asked, reading the letter as well, ignoring the fact that Adrian could easily see her breasts.

"No idea," Harry said, humming. "But this whole wormhole technology thing interests me. I think I have some more research material to work with now."

"Well, I have to meet Kingsley for my training," Adrian said, giving a wave. "I'll see you guys later."

They waved at him as he left the room.

"So, how are you feeling?" Harry asked Tonks once they were alone, taking Tonks' wrist and checking her pulse. "Don't feel any discomfort?"

"No, I feel stronger than ever," Tonks said. "And the balance brought to me by the Acro Elixir has rid me of most of my clumsiness."

"I'm glad to hear it," Harry said, still taking her pulse, then checking out her magical cores with his right eye, humming. "Your cores look stable, as does your soul."

"I'm still a bit miffed that you didn't even test it on Zeus first," Tonks said, throwing Harry a bit of a cross look.

"Face it, would you want a superpowered monkey running around?" Harry asked, making Tonks blink. Then, she shook her head.

"You're right, as always..."

"Of course I am."

–

"What's going on?" Harry wanted to know as he entered the Department of Mysteries the following day, finding that the circular room was full of Unspeakables, who were murmuring amongst themselves. Creed walked over to him and pulled him over to a secluded area of the circular room, looking grave.

"It's Broderick Bode," Creed said, looking around to see if anyone was within hearing range. He lowered his voice. "He tried to take one of the prophecies, and lost his mind."

"One of the prophecies?" Harry asked, turning the bolt in his head. "Let me guess, that prophecy was... mine?"

"Indeed," Creed said, gritting his teeth. "Bode was a good friend of mine, and he would never have gone off to try to take one of the prophecies of his own free will."

"You suspect the Imperius Curse, then?" Harry asked, and Creed leaned closer.

"Lucius Malfoy has been hanging around the Ministry a lot lately. It isn't unthinkable that he may have put Bode under the Imperius Curse."

"It didn't take long for you to start suspecting Malfoy," Harry said in surprise, and Creed made a disgusted noise.

"Malfoy has always been rotten. Any idiot can see that."

"It certainly didn't sound like it the last time we talked about him."

"The last time we talked about him, he hadn't put one of my closest friends under the Imperius Curse and forced him to do something he knew would make him lose his mind," Creed growled out. Then, he straightened up. "We shall have to up our security. With this, You-Know-Who must find out that not just anyone can grab a prophecy, and he will especially know it if he gets access to Augustus Rookwood. If he finds out the truth about how to get a prophecy, he will without a doubt come to collect it himself."

"And I agree, that would be bad. After all, not many have the power to stand up against him," Harry said, closing his eyes in thought and slowly turning the bolt. "What if I were to take the prophecy away from here? Hide it elsewhere?"

"Out of the question, it's against protocol to take a prophecy orb out of the Hall of Prophecy," Creed said, gritting his teeth. "No matter how much I hate it, we can't break the rules of the Department of Mysteries, no matter how great the need to do so is."

"Place guards in the Hall of Prophecy?"

"We don't have enough men for that."

"Well, Creed, if you're just going to shoot down my ideas, I don't even know why I bother trying..."

–

Well, there you have it, the fourteenth chapter! Please leave a review and tell me what you think!

15. Chapter 15

Hi, all! ZenoNoKyuubi here with a fresh chapter straight out of my head! Please enjoy!

–

"Oh dear," Harry said one morning after Christmas as he sat at the breakfast table with the Weasleys who weren't at Hogwarts, Adrian, Tonks, and Sirius. He was currently reading the Daily Prophet. "Dear, dear, dear."

On the front page were ten black-and-white photographs that filled the whole of the front page, nine showing wizards' faces and the tenth, a witch's. Some of the people in the photographs were silently jeering, others were tapping their fingers on the frame of their pictures, looking insolent. Each picture was captioned with a name and the crime for which the person had been sent to Azkaban.

Antonin Dolohov, read the legend beneath a wizard with a long, pale, twisted face who was sneering up at Harry, convicted of the brutal murders of Gideon and Fabian Prewett.

Augustus Rookwood, said the caption beneath a pockmarked man with greasy hair who was leaning against the edge of his picture, looking bored, convicted of leaking Ministry of Magic Secrets to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

"'Mass breakout from Azkaban. Ministry is puzzled,'" Harry read, looking up at Adrian with an amused look on his face. "Well, there's a surprise."

"What, you're not surprised at the breakout?" Adrian asked, but Harry shook his head.

"No, that surprised me. The fact that the Ministry is puzzled, now that is not surprising."

Harry shook his head and continued reading, until he got to page ten, at which point he went wide-eyed.

TRAGIC DEMISE OF

MINISTRY OF MAGIC WORKER

St. Mungo's Hospital promised a full inquiry last

night after Ministry of Magic worker Broderick

Bode, 49, was discovered dead in his bed, strangled by

a potted-plant. Healers called to the scene were unable

to revive Mr. Bode, who had been injured in a

workplace accident some weeks prior to his death.

Healer Miriam Strout, who was in charge of Mr.

Bode's ward at the time of the incident, has been suspended

on full pay and was unavailable for comment

yesterday, but a spokeswizard for the hospital said in

a statement, "St. Mungo's deeply regrets the death of

Mr. Bode, whose health was improving steadily prior

to this tragic accident.

"We have strict guidelines on the decorations permitted

on our wards but it appears that Healer Strout,

busy over the Christmas period, overlooked the

dangers of the plant on Mr. Bode's bedside table. As

his speech and mobility improved, Healer Strout encouraged

Mr. Bode to look after the plant himself,

unaware that it was not an innocent Flitterbloom, but

a cutting of Devil's Snare, which, when touched by

the convalescent Mr. Bode, throttled him instantly.

"St. Mungo's is as yet unable to account for the

presence of the plant on the ward and asks any witch

or wizard with information to come forward."

Harry repeated what he had just read to the others, and Sirius thoughtfully wiped his mouth with a napkin before speaking.

"It's like you said, isn't it?" he said finally after a minute of thinking. "Lucius Malfoy put Bode under the Imperius Curse, and now that he was getting better and soon able to tell people what had happened..." he trailed off meaningfully, and the others at the table nodded.

"Well, I better get to work," Harry said, getting up from the table. "Creed will want every man available now that someone has killed Bode."

"We better get going, too," Tonks said, gesturing for her and Adrian. "Kingsley is going to tan your hide if you're late again, Adrian."

"Yeah, yeah," Adrian said, reaching up and scratching his head. Whereas Harry liked to turn his bolt, Adrian liked to scratch his head, approximately in the place where Harry's bolt was.

–

Journal, January 15th, 1996,

I have finally taken the time to start studying Fleur Delacour's blood. As I suspected, the veela possess a gene that humans do not have. This gene was very hard to find due to Fleur's part-veela heritage, but I still found it. This gene enables the body to produce pheromones to attract the opposite sex. I can only assume that the veela have a pheromone gland somewhere in their body.

–

Journal, January 18th, 1996,

I have been looking into my own genes for quite some time now. It would seem that magic isn't, in fact, magic. It is a form of energy, probably the most powerful energy in the universe. It is capable of great feats, as shown with the hundreds of thousands of great 'magic' tricks that have been accomplished throughout the centuries.

Due to the drastic difference between this gene and other human genes, it has led me to conclude that we, wizards and witches, are a crossbreed between humans and some other species not of this world. I will not reveal this discovery to anyone, however, except for Adrian, as I do not believe the magic folk are capable of grasping the fact that they are more different from ordinary humans than they already believe.

–

Journal, February 1st, 1996,

I have received more information from my contacts in the Muggle world. It would seem that in nineteen twenty-eight, a large, cover-stone ring was found in Giza, Egypt. This ring was taken to Cheyenne Mountains, Colorado, to be guarded by the U.S. Air-Force. Curious behavior... In nineteen ninety-four, Egyptologist and linguist Doctor Daniel Jackson was brought to Creek Mountain to translate hieroglyphs on the ring.

The operation was classified, and my contact has had great trouble digging up more information, but he was able to discover a lots of use of the words Stargate, wormhole, Ra, and Abydos. The last word is, I believe, the destination of the wormhole that has been used. There can be no other explanation. This... Stargate... creates wormholes to travel to other places. Without a doubt, those other places are on other planets. This is all speculation, of course, but my guesses are usually correct.

–

Journal, February 11th, 1996,

For the last ten days, I have been knee-deep in research into wormhole technology. It is possible, entirely possible, especially using what has been dubbed magic. From my understanding, it is possible to open up a wormhole leading to other places. One simply needs technology capable of folding the paper that is the fabric of reality and cutting it open. Should be a cake-walk for someone like me.

–

Journal, February 12th, 1996,

I have been having... dreams lately, dreams about the Department of Mysteries. It is my belief that Voldemort is either thinking really hard about it, or he is aware of our connection and is trying to coax me into going to the Hall of Prophecy, which is possible, seeing as Rookwood has broken out, and he would know that only those that the prophecy concern can take it down from its shelf. He has apparently no idea that I already know the contents. I must start employing my Occlumency against him if this continues. It gets quite irritating...

–

On Valentine's Day, Harry and Tonks found themselves in Hogsmeade with Adrian, who was running a hand through his hair.

"Stop fretting, Adrian," Tonks said with a smirk as she hugged Harry's arm. "You look like a nervous wreck."

"I feel like a nervous wreck... I am a nervous wreck," Adrian said, tapping his foot against the ground as he checked his wrist watch. "I've never actually been on a date before."

"You have my memories of my dates with Tonks," Harry supplied, getting a scoff from Adrian.

"Yeah, right, small talk followed by snogging and occasionally sex, that's what a real date is..." He paused for a second, then looked to them both. "Is it? 'Cause I don't think I know how to snog..."

"No, it isn't, and yes, you do," Harry said simply, steering the way toward the Hogwarts gates, where they were to wait for Hermione. "It'll be easy. Just keep your wits about you, and you'll be fine. Don't turn into a drooling mess, or stuttering mess, or a blabbering mess, or a-"

"Harry, you're not helping," Tonks said, watching the still nervous Adrian.

"Yeah, you're my big brother, you're supposed to give me advice," Adrian said, scratching the side of his head. "Not telling me not to turn into a mess."

"Well, you shouldn't, should you?" Harry said. "I think I'm offering sound advice. Now, if she kisses you, and it turns into a snog, do that thing with your tongue that Tonks likes."

"You mean with your tongue?" Adrian said, to which Harry shrugged.

"Toe-May-Toe, Toe-Mah-Toe."

"Here she comes, how do I look?" Adrian asked as they saw Hermione coming down the path from the castle, dressed in her everyday clothes, but looking quite cute with a pair of jeans and a pink turtleneck sweater. Her hair was, as usual, a bushy mess.

"You look great, like always," Tonks said simply. "Now just follow my lead. Hermione! Hey!" she called out, waving at Hermione, who waved back, a bright smile on her face.

"Hey, Harry, hey, Tonks!" she said as she reached them, and a faint blush appeared on her face when she turned to Adrian. "Hi, Adrian."

Adrian cleared his throat. "Hi, Mione."

"Mione, eh?" Tonks said, winking at Adrian. "That close, are you?"

"Shut up, Tonks," Adrian said, throwing her a glare. Then, he cleared his throat again and gestured toward Hogsmeade. "Shall we?"

"Alright," Hermione said and looped her arm with Adrian's arm, hugging it much like Tonks.

"Be gentle with him!" Harry said as they walked away from Harry and Tonks. "He's only six months old!"

Adrian gave him the finger, which he felt was quite rude.

"Do you think he'll be alright?" Harry asked, and Tonks nodded.

"He'll be fine. Everyone is nervous on their first date. I remember you were a bit nervous as well."

"I was not nervous, merely curious," Harry said, scoffing.

"Sure you were," Tonks said patronizingly, nodding slowly. "So, are we following them?"

"You bet your sexy arse we are," Harry said, and the two started following the duo, though at a distance, but within hearing range.

Sadly, this idea was for naught, as there were so many people talking around them that they couldn't hear anything Adrian and Hermione were talking about. They saw and heard Hermione laugh, which meant that Adrian had either cracked a joke, or said something embarrassing about Harry. The latter was the most likely.

They followed Adrian and Hermione into the Three Broomsticks, where they picked out a booth two booths down from where the duo was sitting.

Meanwhile, with Adrian and Hermione, the bushy-haired girl sighed to herself as Madam Rosmerta arrived with their butterbeers.

"They don't even bother trying to hide," she said, nodding toward the booth where they could see both Harry and Tonks peeking over the edge of the booth to stare at them.

"They don't need to," Adrian said, sipping his butterbeer. He was feeling a lot more relaxed now that they were sitting down in the cozy Three Broomsticks. "The Boss knows that I know that he knows that I know that he's following me. So by knowing what I know, he knows that he doesn't need to bother to hide, since I know that he's following me."

Hermione blinked. Then...

"What?"

"Point is, they don't need to hide," Adrian said with a sigh. "They know we're here, and we know they're there."

"I've never seen Harry care so much about another human before," Hermione said pleasantly. "It's rather refreshing to see."

Adrian hummed in response, but didn't really say anything, as that particular topic had bothered him for some time.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, no doubt noticing the drop in Adrian's mood.

"Am I really a human?" Adrian asked, sighing. "I've never seen a human with a metal brain before..."

"You are human," Hermione said kindly, reaching over and patting Adrian on the hand. "You are as human as you wish to be. You're just... a very special human."

Adrian hummed again, looking thoughtful as he listened to Harry and Tonks talking about something. He could hear their voices, but couldn't make out the words they were speaking. He looked toward the doorway, to see Dumbledore entering the Three Broomsticks. He spotted Harry and made his way over to him, speaking in a low voice.

"What's Dumbledore doing here?" Hermione asked, also watching Dumbledore speak to Harry.

Adrian saw Dumbledore glance his way, and immediately knew what they were talking about.

"Talking about me, no doubt," he said, narrowing his eyes slightly.

Over at Harry's booth, Dumbledore straightened up, and they saw Harry rising as well, and the two made their way over to Adrian and Hermione, Harry looking rather insulted.

"Hello, Adrian," Dumbledore said kindly, his eyes twinkling happily as the two reached them. "I was wondering if I may have a word up in my office?"

"I'm kind of busy right now, headmaster," Adrian said, gesturing toward Hermione. "Can't it wait until after dinner?"

Dumbledore looked from Adrian to Hermione. He looked like he wanted to speak against it, but then his eyes softened, and he nodded.

"Very well. I shall see you and Harry in my office after dinner."

With a graceful bow, Dumbledore left the Three Broomsticks.

"Sorry about that, Adrian," Harry said, turning the bolt in his head as he stared at the door through which Dumbledore had left. "I had expected that Dumbledore would want to question me about you, but I didn't think he'd want to involve you."

"It's alright, Harry. Unlike you, I did expect this to happen. But let's just enjoy the time we have left before we have to see the old man."

"Agreed," Harry said, putting a cigarette in his mouth and walking back to his own booth to sit down with Tonks.

And so, that evening found Harry and Adrian, wearing a lab coat and Sirius' old leather jacket respectively, standing in front of the gargoyle that guarded the stairs to Dumbledore's office.

"Ah, boys!" came Dumbledore's voice from further down the corridor. They looked to see the ancient headmaster approaching, a bright smile on his face. He stopped in front of the gargoyle, said, "Sugar quill," and climbed onto the revolving staircase as the gargoyle hopped to the side. Together, the three of them made their way up to Dumbledore's office.

Dumbledore opened the door to his office and led the two brothers inside, walking around his desk and sitting down, before gesturing for Harry and Adrian to do the same, sitting down in the two plush chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk.

"Now, I would like to know how, pardon my rudeness, it is possible for you to be alive, Adrian," Dumbledore said, unusually serious. "I know that it is not easy to create a homunculus, and even harder to get it to live, some would say that it is, in fact, impossible. So, how did you do it, Harry?"

"Actually, it was a bit of a genial stroke on my part," Harry said, smiling brightly. "But I won't reveal my methods. Some would call them unethical."

"Where did you get the soul, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, his piercing blue eyes staring into Harry's emerald green ones. He could feel the touch of a Legilimency probe, and immediately slammed down his Occlumency shields, which were quite powerful if he'd say so himself.

Harry decided to for once go for a bit of honesty and said, "From myself."

Dumbledore had obviously been expecting this, as his eyes widened drastically in surprise.

"You committed a murder?"

Both Harry and Adrian blinked at that, and said, "Murder?" in unison, looking at each other, then at Dumbledore.

"To split your soul," Dumbledore clarified. Harry and Adrian still looked puzzled. "You... did not commit a murder to split your soul?"

"No!" Harry said, scoffing. "What do you take me for? Why, can you split your soul that way?"

"Then how did you do it?" Dumbledore asked, ignoring his question.

"Simple, I created a magical scalpel, made an incision in my soul, and tore it in two. Then I transplanted one half of the soul to Adrian's homunculus and jump-started his heart. Piece of cake."

"I imagine... that must have hurt?"

"You have no idea," Harry said with a grin on his face. Dumbledore's eyes were still sharp, but not as hard as they had been. It looked to have come as a relief to him that Harry hadn't committed a murder.

"I am glad to hear that you did not murder someone, Harry, but I do not think you quite realize what it is you have done, by creating Adrian here."

"Um, why was I meant to come along, since you're only talking to Harry?" Adrian wanted to know, only to get ignored.

"And what have I done?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You have effectively created a Horcrux, Harry."

"A whorecock...? I don't like transsexuals..."

For a brief moment, Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. Then, he turned serious again.

"No, Harry, a Horcrux. It is an object in which someone has hidden part of their soul. This chains that person to the realm of the living, a procedure that I believe Voldemort has gone through."

"Chains them to the realm of the living?" Harry asked, blinking. "So... I'm immortal?"

"Your soul will forever remain in the realm of the living, but your body can be destroyed. You would become what Voldemort was if your body is destroyed."

"Well... That's no fun..." Harry muttered, getting a pat on the shoulder from Adrian.

"So, I'm your anchor, then?" Adrian said, and Harry nodded thoughtfully.

"Of course, the easiest, and up until now only, known way to split your soul is to commit murder," Dumbledore informed them, leaning back in his chair. "I trust that, with this new information, you will not try to do it again?"

"Of course not. I only need one brother, and I have him," Harry said, patting Adrian on the back.

"So, how did you manage to create him?"

"I transmuted his body from a number of pigs," Harry said simply, then nudged Adrian, who nodded.

"Oink."

"See?"

–

Harry was standing in a dark, curtained room lit by a single branch of candles. His hands were clenched on the back of a chair in front of him. They were long-fingered and white as though they had not seen sunlight for years and looked like large-pale spiders against the dark velvet of the chair.

Beyond the chair, in a pool of light cast upon the floor by the candles, a man in black robes knelt.

"I have been badly advised, it seems," Harry said in a high, cold voice that pulsed with anger.

"Master, I crave your pardon..." the man kneeling on the floor croaked. The back of his head glimmered in the candlelight. He seemed to be trembling.

"I do not blame you, Rookwood," Harry said in that cold, cruel voice.

He relinquished his grip upon the chair and walked around it, closer to the man cowering upon the floor, until he stood directly over him in the darkness, looking down at him.

"You are sure of your facts, Rookwood?" Harry asked.

"Yes, my Lord, yes... I used to work in the department after... after all..."

"Avery told me Bode would be able to remove it."

"Bode could never have taken it, Master... Bode would have known he could not... Undoubtedly that is why he fought so hard against Malfoy's Imperius Curse..."

"Stand up, Rookwood," Harry whispered.

The kneeling man almost fell over in his haste to obey. His face was pockmarked. The scars were thrown into relief by the candlelight. He remained a little stooped when standing, as though halfway through a bow, and he darted terrified looks up at Harry's face.

"You have done well to tell me this," Harry said. "Very well... I have wasted months on fruitless schemes, it seems... But no matter... We begin again, from now. You have Lord Voldemort's gratitude, Rookwood..."

"My Lord... yes, my Lord," Rookwood gasped, his voice hoarse with relief.

"I shall need your help. I shall need all the information you can give me."

"Of course, my Lord, of course... anything..."

"Very well... you may go. Send Avery to me."

Rookwood scurried backward, bowing, and disappeared through a door.

Left alone in the dark room, Harry turned toward a wall. A cracked, age-spotted mirror hung on the wall in the shadows. Harry moved toward it. His reflection grew larger and clearer in the darkness... A face whiter than a skull... red eyes with slits for pupils...

Harry shot up from his desk and his chair tipped backward. His head hit the hard floor, and he lay there, groaning. Then, he wiped his sweaty forehead and lit a cigarette before he chuckled to himself.

"I've got to start sleeping in my bed..."

The following morning, Harry sat in his lab with Adrian standing by the door, his arms crossed as he stared at Harry, who was slowly spinning on his chair, smoking a cigarette.

"So, Voldemort now knows only you or he can take the prophecy down?"

"Pretty much," Harry said. "And I think he knows I can pop into his head now. That last experience shook me, so he might have noticed my presence."

"So... what do we do?"

"You're just as smart as I am, and if you can't think of something, neither can I," Harry said, still spinning.

"I can think of one thing."

"But that's the boring way to go about things," Harry said as he waved Adrian off, but Adrian kept pushing.

"It's the only way to go about things," he insisted, and Harry sighed.

"Fine, we'll wait until he makes his move..."

"And let's face it, it will be amusing to see his reaction when he finds out we knew about his plan all along."

"A trap within a trap, eh?"

"I'll be your backup," Adrian said with a nod. He took out his wand and twirled it with his fingers. "Together, we can take him."

"Of course, since we'd probably be equal to him if one of us went against him alone."

–

Journal, February 26th, 1996,

My contact has managed to dig up the mission report regarding the mission labeled the 'Abydos Mission.' Herein I write all that he managed to dig up.

The story goes back all the way to nineteen twenty-eight, where Professor Langford, an archeologist, discovered a massive cover-stone ring in the sands of Giza, Egypt. In nineteen ninety-four, Lanford's daughter, Catherine, offered the Egyptologist and linguist Daniel Jackson the chance to translate Egyptian hieroglyphs that may prove his controversial theory regarding the Pyramid of Khufu. Jackson accepted, and traveled to a U.S. Air Force installation inside the Cheyenne Mountains. Jackson translated the hieroglyphs on the stone ring's coverstones, which read: 'A million years into the sky is Ra. Sealed and buried for all time, his Stargate.' Formerly retired Special Forces Colonel John J. O'Neill arrived at this point to take command of the project and declared it classified.

At this point, things get a bit murky, but from what I understand, Jackson deduced that the symbols on the ring were star constellations that are coordinates for a location within space. The sequence was entered into the Stargate, creating a wormhole to a location in another galaxy. After O'Neill led a team through the Stargate, they found themselves inside a pyramid in the middle of vast sand dunes. Jackson at this point revealed that they could not dial home because the Stargate coordinates to go back to Earth were missing. Some team members remained behind in the pyramid while Jackson, O'Neill, and others went out and discovered a mining village inhabited by humans who assumed them to be gods sent by Ra, due to the medallion Jackson wore around his neck.

Side-note, said medallion was the Eye of Ra, an item found at the same time as the Stargate in the archeological dig in Giza in nineteen twenty-eight.

After having made friends with the indigenous people on the planet they would later learn was called Abydos, they discovered that the Egyptian god Ra was actually an alien lifeform who had abandoned his dying world to seek a cure for his own mortality, and had finally come to earth, where he 'possessed' the body of one human youth like a parasite, and enslaved humans with his advanced technology. While these humans eventually rebelled and buried the Stargate, thousands of others had been taken to the other planet through the Stargate and used to mine the quartzite-like mineral on which all of Ra's technology was based. Fearing another rebellion on this planet, Ra outlawed reading and writing. At this point, the team from Earth discovered the cartouche containing the symbols required to get back to Earth, but the seventh symbol at the bottom was eroded away.

At that point, the planet was visited by a huge, pyramidal-form spacecraft, and most of the members of O'Neill's team were killed. The team, however, managed to arm the nuclear bomb brought by O'Neill, and headed back through the Stargate, somehow with Jackson managing to figure out the seventh symbol needed. The bomb detonated, destroying the Stargate, and killing Daniel Jackson and the people of Abydos.

While this was the official report, I cannot help but find it a bit... sketchy. I don't think that is what really happened. I don't think anyone like O'Neill, not that I really know the guy, could ever wipe out thousands of people just because he was obeying orders, especially if he had befriended the locals. I shall endeavor to find out what really happened on that mission. It may be vital to my research.

–

"Harry!" Dumbledore said happily when Harry stepped into his office, turning the bolt in his head. "I did not think I would be seeing you again for some time. I hear you have been busy in the Department of Mysteries."

"I've learned almost everything I needed to learn from them," Harry said, sitting down in front of Dumbledore's desk. "It may soon be time for me to leave them. I already have something else that has caught my interest."

"Such as...?"

"Have you ever heard of a Stargate, Professor?"

"I cannot say that I have," Dumbledore said, sounding curious. "What is it?"

"It's probably for the best if you don't know," Harry said with a smile. "I heard from Sirius that you have been wanting to see me?"

"Oh, yes, of course," Dumbledore said, nodding. He interlaced his fingers in front of his face, his elbows on his desk as he surveyed Harry over the rim of his half-moon spectacles. "Harry, I trust you remember what I told you about Horcruxes when you and Adrian were in here last?"

"How could I forget? You said Voldemort created one?"

"On the contrary, I believe he created several."

"Several?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said and reached into his desk, taking out a small, black, ink-spattered book with a large hole right through it. "I believe that this diary, which you destroyed in your second year, contained a piece of Voldemort's soul."

Harry's brilliant mind worked overtime as soon as he saw the diary, and things started clicking for him. His scar hurting, his dreams...

"He put one in me, didn't he?" Harry asked, tilting his head to the side and seeing Dumbledore's eyes widen in surprise. Then, his eyes softened, and he nodded slowly.

"I believe so. However, I also believe that it was quite unintentional."

"Of course. Why make your worst enemy into a Horcrux?" Harry said, scoffing. "But fact remains that I have a piece of Voldemort stuck in my forehead. Now I just need to figure out how to get rid of it."

"I have been giving that a considerable amount of thought as well," Dumbledore said with a nod. "And I believe that the only way to get rid of the Horcrux is... for you to die..."

Harry stared at Dumbledore in silence, his mouth half-agape, and Dumbledore stared right back at him. Then, Harry let out a loud "Pfft!" and waved him off.

"Yeah, right! All I really have to do is make a magical incision in my scar, pull out the soul, put it into something else, and destroy it, simple as that."

Dumbledore's eyes widened. Then, he nodded.

"I do admit that I had not added your magical scalpel to my calculations," he said, nodding still. "Perhaps it can work. Anything would be preferable to your death."

"You're not just saying that because I'm sitting right here, are you?" Harry asked with a grin, turning his bolt, and Dumbledore chuckled.

"Oh, Harry, even if I was allied with Lord Voldemort, I still would not wish death upon you."

–

Well, there you have it, the fifteenth chapter! Please leave a review and tell me what you think!

16. Chapter 16

Hi, all! ZenoNoKyuubi here with a fresh chapter straight out of my head! Please enjoy!

–

Tick, tock... Tick, tock... Tick, tock...

For the second time in his life, Harry found himself in a room full of cogs of all sizes, turning in synchronization with each second.

Tick, tock... Tick, tock...

Only, there was something different about the room. Right above him, sticking through the center of a particularly large cog was a bolt, much like the one Harry had through his head. It was slowly turning counter-clockwise without pause, unlike the cogs, which all jerked slightly clockwise every second. Unlike every other time he was in there, however, the ticking wasn't coming from the cogs. It came through the door right in front of him, the pitch black door that was so familiar. He moved toward it, and it opened before he'd even touched it.

He found himself in the Time Chamber in the Department of Mysteries. It was completely empty, save for the hundreds of clocks and the bell jar with the egg in it. Harry, however, moved straight across the room to the second door, which swung open just like the first...

He was in the Hall of Prophecy, heading straight for row ninety-seven, turning left and hurrying along the aisle between two rows...

But there was a shape on the floor at the very end, a black shape moving on the floor like a wounded animal... Harry's eyes widened as he walked up to the form, and a voice issued from his own mouth, a high, cold voice empty of any human kindness, "Take it for me... Lift it down, now... I cannot touch it... but you can..."

The black on the floor shifted a little. Harry saw a long-fingered hand clutching a wand rise on the end of his own arm... heard the high, cold voice say, "Crucio!"

The man on the floor let out a scream of pain, attempted to stand, but fell back, writhing. Harry was laughing. He raised his wand, the curse lifted, and the figure groaned and became motionless.

"Lord Voldemort is waiting..."

Very slowly, his arms trembling, the man on the ground raised his shoulders a few inches and lifted his head. His face was bloodstained and gaunt, twisted in pain yet rigid with defiance...

"You'll have to kill me," Sirius whispered.

"Undoubtedly I shall in the end," the cold voice said. "But you will fetch it for me first, Black... You think you have felt pain thus far? Think again... We have hours ahead of us and nobody to hear you scream..."

Harry yelled out in pain as Voldemort lowered his wand again, his eyes shooting open as he shot away from his desk, tipping backward and hitting his head against the floor.

At the alchemy station, Adrian jumped in surprise and spun to look at Harry, who lay panting on the floor, shakily lighting the cigarette that had been dangling from his mouth during his sleep, and wiping his sweaty forehead.

"What's wrong?" Adrian wanted to know. "Did you have another dream?"

"Yeah..." Harry muttered, rising from the floor and lifting up his chair again. "Where's Sirius?"

"He's downstairs with Kingsley," Adrian said, and Harry nodded slowly.

"Well then, it seems Voldemort wants to spring the trap now. He knows of our connection somehow."

"Snape," Adrian said, getting another nod from Harry.

"Without a doubt, Dumbledore told him that I have a special connection with Voldemort, Snape told Voldemort, who guessed that he could use it to his advantage..."

"So, do we spring the trap?" Adrian asked, and Harry hummed, puffing on his cigarette as he leaned against his chair, looking around the lab.

"Yeah, I guess we'll have to."

And that was how Harry found himself wandering through the Hall of Prophecy in the middle of the night. He had to admit that the Unspeakables were incredibly arrogant. They believed that no one could ever break into the Ministry, and therefore hardly set up any kind of wards against intruders. And those that had been set up had already been taken down.

Behind Harry, Adrian walked covered by the Invisibility Cloak. They reached row ninety-seven, and headed down the aisle slowly, Harry with his hands in his pockets, and Adrian with his wand out.

When he reached the shelf with his prophecy on it, Harry looked around, seeing no sign of Voldemort. Did he want Harry to take it down? It was obvious that Voldemort wasn't there in person, since he'd know that he could take it down. So he had probably sent someone else to go get it.

Nodding to himself, Harry reached out and took down the prophecy. Then, he waited, and as expected he heard a voice from right behind him saying, "Very good, Potter. Now turn around, nice and slowly, and give that to me."

Harry found himself chuckling. "Lucius Malfoy," he said without turning around. "I trust you didn't come alone? It would be no sport otherwise."

He turned around, and saw black shapes emerging out of thin air all around him, blocking his way left and right. Eyes glinted through slits in hoot, and a dozen lit wand tips were pointing directly at his heart.

"To me, Potter," the drawling voice of Lucius Malfoy repeated as he held out his hand, palm up. Harry, however, didn't comply. He just reached up with his free hand and turned the bolt in his head slowly as he looked around at the souls of the Death Eaters, all of them blackened and tainted. But one was blackened more than the others, a female soul, and Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Bellatrix Lestrange, I presume?"

The Death Eater to Harry's left removed her hood, revealing the sunken, once beautiful face of Bellatrix Lestrange. She had a mad glint in her eye, and not the good kind of mad, either.

"To me," Malfoy said yet again.

"I think... not," Harry said, shaking his head. Malfoy's glare was evident through the slit in his hood.

"You are vastly outnumbered, alone against the fourteen of us. What possible hope do you have of walking out of here alive?"

"Oh, but that's where you made your mistake, Malfoy," Harry said with a calm smile on his face as he slowly turned his bolt.

"And what mistake was that?" Malfoy wanted to know.

"Thinking I actually fell for that dream, and that I came alone."

Malfoy's eyes widened beneath his hood as three bright red flashes dropped three of the Death Eaters from behind before any of them even had the chance to react. Harry crossed the distance between him and Malfoy and thrust his palm into his chest. Yellow lightning arched along his arm into Malfoy, making him cry out in pain. Malfoy flew through the air, crashing into the shelf across from Harry and sending prophecy orbs falling down, crashing onto the heads of the Death Eaters.

Adrian threw off the Invisibility Cloak and gave off a laugh as he started dueling with five Death Eaters at once. The rest focused on Harry, who had already made his way over to Bellatrix Lestrange, and rammed his elbow into her chest, lifting her off the ground and sending her crashing into two other Death Eaters.

"Hm..." Harry hummed as he slowly turned his bolt, looking over the Death Eaters. "Now then, how should I cut you guys open?" he asked as he make a scissor shape with his fingers, opening and closing them several times while making little "Chk, chk" sounds.

Immediately, the Death Eaters started flinging spells at Harry, who easily dodged using his superior reflexes, making it look as though he wasn't trying at all.

"Hm... I think I'll start with the abdomen..." Harry said as he lazily leaned to the side to avoid a Killing Curse, which struck one of the Death Eaters dueling Adrian in the back. "A small incision right... about... here!" He charged forward at the last word in the sentence and hit Bellatrix in the stomach with an open palm thrust, knocking her off her feet again. He smiled at the others. "I have only used these moves on others in theory, so you will make good test subjects..."

With that, Harry charged.

Meanwhile, Adrian was laughing loudly as he flung curses and hexes around with an excited grin on his face. He whooped as he dodged a Killing Curse and nailed the offending Death Eater in the face with a Stunner, causing him to drop like a puppet with its strings cut.

"That the best you can do?!" Adrian asked gleefully as he dodged and guarded against the Death Eaters. He immediately jumped to the side when a man came flying through the Death Eaters, soaring past Adrian and landing on the ground with a thud, yellow lightning crackling around his body. Adrian looked over the shoulders of the Death Eaters to see that Harry had just sent the man flying with a kick, his foot arcing with yellow lightning.

The surprise to see the man fly through the air disappeared, and the brief pause ceased as the combatants started fighting again.

The final Death Eater was knocked out by a Stunner, and Adrian looked to Harry to see him knock out Lucius Malfoy with a wicked hook that lifted him off his feet. There was a grin on Harry's face as he looked around.

"A good haul, I'd say," Harry said as he looked around at the unconscious Death Eaters, and Adrian nodded. Harry took out his wand and gave it a wave. The wands of the Death Eaters came flying and landed in a pile at Harry's feet. With another wave, the Death Eaters were pulled together and bound tightly by both ropes and chains. Then, with a final wave of his wand, Harry bound them with an Anti-Apparation jinx.

"Let's get up to the Atrium and wait for the Ministry workers to arrive," Adrian said as the two started walking, patting each other on the back. "We really need to talk to Fudge about upping security here in the Ministry."

"Agreed," Harry said with a nod, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. They entered the circular room and with a call of "Exit," left it, heading down the dark corridor to the gold lift, which took, them jangling and banging up to the Atrium.

The two grinned at each other as they stepped out of the lift, but those grins disappeared when they looked ahead, and saw him. Face white as bone, and slitted, red eyes, Lord Voldemort stood at the other side of the Atrium, staring at Harry and his clone, who both stopped and stared right back at him.

"Harry Potter..." Voldemort hissed, narrowing his eyes. "You caused me a fair bit of pain last year..."

"All in the name of science, I assure you," Harry said, sounding bored as he stared at Voldemort with his hands in his pockets. "Sadly, there is nothing more I can learn from you, I think. That new body of yours appears flawed and weak. Not at all like the body I made."

"I am more powerful than ever!" Voldemort exclaimed, spreading his arms out. Harry scoffed.

"You may be powerful magically, but I'm sure you'll break like a twig if things get physical."

"Boss, how about we just skip the pleasantries?" Adrian said, taking out his wand and holding it at the ready. "He looks eager to get started."

"Hm, true," Harry said with a nod. "Alright, then..."

Suddenly, Harry and Adrian separated, one rushing left and the other one heading right as Voldemort whipped out his wand and started flinging spells at them.

Harry flipped and dodged easily, avoiding the spells using his superior reflexes, while Adrian put on an impressive display of magic as he blocked the spells instead of dodging them.

Now, Adrian went on the offensive, flinging spells right back at Voldemort, who focused all his attention on him. This was his mistake, however, as Harry came rushing up to him from behind.

"Gotcha," Harry said, still sounding bored, making Voldemort's eyes widen as he looked over his shoulder to see Harry coming at him with his side facing Voldemort. He cocked his arms back, then slammed his elbow into Voldemort's lower back with one arm, along with the palm of his other hand.

Voldemort's back arched, and he cried out in pain as he was sent flying straight at Adrian, who dodged to the side, avoiding getting hit by Voldemort, who landed on the ground with a thud, rolling several feet before coming to a stop.

Adrian jogged over to Harry, who rubbed the shoulder of the arm that had his Voldemort with the elbow.

"Hm... His spine is reinforced with magic," Harry mumbled as Voldemort slowly rose to his feet. "He knew his body was weak, so he strengthened it with magic..."

"Can you break it?"

Harry chuckled, his right eye staring at Voldemort's soul, which was impressively large.

"I got a feel for his wavelength now. I can override it. All I need is an opening."

"Just leave that to me," Adrian said, and then the two split up again, just in time to dodge a Killing Curse that had been flung in their direction.

"What's wrong, Potter?" Voldemort demanded of Harry, who was once more dodging his spells with ridiculous ease. "Too afraid to use your wand?"

"Don't say that, Voldy," Adrian said, turning Voldemort's attention toward him. "If Harry were to use his wand, this fight would be over ridiculously quickly, now that he's got a grasp of your magical wavelength."

"Silence!" Voldemort hissed at Adrian, flinging a Killing Curse at him. "A lab experiment such as yourself has no place speaking to me!"

Adrian, to Voldemort's surprise, dodged and smirked at the insult. "Shouldn't have said that," he said, pointing over Voldemort's shoulder.

Voldemort spun around to see Harry taking out his wand. Harry swiped the wand at Voldemort, who raised his wand and conjured a shimmering shield, only to see a glint of silver soaring straight through it, before an intense pain broke out across his throat, and something wet poured down over his robes.

"Ghurk!" Voldemort choked, his hand going up to clutch at the cut across his throat, which was spewing blood. He dropped to his knees, his eyes wide in panic.

"Told you you shouldn't make him draw his wand," Adrian said, shrugging. "Harry's got a feel for your wavelength, so any shield you conjure is useless. After all, it doesn't even recognize Harry's spells as another magical signature."

Voldemort raised a shaking hand, pressing his wand against one corner of the cut, dragging it along the wound and closing it.

"You'll..." Voldemort panted slightly, much to his shame, as he got to his feet. "You'll pay for that, Potter!" he hissed at Harry, who pocketed his wand again.

"Are you still sure you want me to use my wand?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm a surgeon, you know. My magical scalpels are so thin, you won't even see them coming, and as you noticed, they'll pass right through your shields."

"Am I supposed to be scared, Potter?" Voldemort asked, narrowing his eyes.

"You should be fearing for your life right about now," Harry said with a nod. "You cannot beat Adrian and myself."

Voldemort cried out in rage, sending out a pulse of magic that blew Adrian off his feet, but which completely passed through Harry, although it did blow the ash off his cigarette. Harry didn't look impressed at all, his face set in a cold, uncaring, almost bored expression.

"Whatever you try, it won't work on me," he assured Voldemort, who raised his wand.

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort exclaimed, sending a jet of green light at Harry, who sighed. He supposed this was as good a test as any.

The curse impacted with Harry's chest, blowing him off his feet.

Voldemort laughed a high, cold laugh as Harry lay unmoving on the ground.

"Nothing I try will work, eh?" he asked, laughing again. "You were arrogant, Potter! That arrogance cost you your life! And now for you..."

Voldemort turned to Adrian, who was just staring at Harry's body. He didn't look angry, shocked, sad, or anything like that. He was looking quite emotionless. Then, Voldemort was surprised to see, a wide grin appeared on his face, and he raised his hand to point at something behind Voldemort, who spun around, his eyes widening.

Harry had flipped over and was pushing himself to his feet.

"Well," he said as he stood up, rubbing his chest, "that was uncomfortable."

"How...? That's impossible!" Voldemort cried in shock. Harry just licked his lips, then furrowed his brow as he looked down on the floor, where his cigarette lay. He stepped on it, shaking his head.

"You made me drop my cigarette," he said calmly, reaching into his pocket and taking out another cigarette, lighting it with his wand, which he pocketed immediately afterward. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes! I had just told you that nothing you can do will work on me."

"Crucio!" Voldemort yelled out, and a red light blasted Harry in the chest. Instead of collapsing and writhing in pain, however, he just looked bored.

"I told you, I can match your wavelength. Your spells have no effect on me."

With that, Harry ran forward at a speed Voldemort hadn't expected, and when he reached Voldemort, he spun once and used the momentum to strike Voldemort in the solar plexus with his elbow, yellow electricity surging into Voldemort's body, making him cry out in pain as he felt his ribs shatter from the blow, which lifted him off his feet and sent him flying through the air, crashing into the wall above the fireplaces where the Ministry workers would come from.

He fell to the ground with a thump, and lay there unmoving. It took him ten seconds to regain consciousness and, panting, get to his feet.

"And now, the magic protecting your body from physical harm is useless as well," Harry said in boredom as he puffed on his cigarette.

Voldemort gritted his teeth, then spun on the spot, only managing to look a little silly with his twirl. His brow furrowed in confusion.

"What the...?"

"Oh yeah, my bad," Adrian said, drawing Voldemort's attention. "While Harry was talking, I figured you wouldn't want to play anymore, so in order to prevent your escape, I hit you with an Anti-Apparation jinx."

"Hoh," Harry grunted in amusement as the bored look disappeared from his face, to be replaced by a small, slightly sadistic grin. "Is that fear I see in your eyes, Tom?"

Voldemort gritted his teeth again. Then, he roared with rage and started flinging spells at the only one there who didn't have protection against his magic: Adrian.

Adrian, however, just laughed as he dodged and dodged, instead of simply blocking the spells.

"I'm not the one you should be focusing on!"

Voldemort's eyes widened, just in time to see Harry appear beside him, swinging his arm at him.

"Soul Purge!" Harry called out as he slammed his open palm into Voldemort's stomach, sending him flying again, yellow electricity arcing along his body, making him cry out in pain as he coughed up a fair bit of blood.

Voldemort hit the ground hard and coughed again, hacking up more blood. He reached for his wand, which had rolled away from him, his eyes widening once more when a foot came crashing down on it, snapping it in half.

"You don't have to worry about dying," Harry said with a slight grin as he kicked Voldemort onto his back. "You'll go to Azkaban, where you will rot away until I've found all your Horcruxes and destroyed them, at which point I will destroy you. But for now, it's time for you to sleep, Dark Prince."

Voldemort opened his mouth to retort, but Harry had already swooped down on him, smashing his open palm into Voldemort's chest with enough force to shatter the floor underneath him. Voldemort felt his remaining ribs pulverize under the force, before darkness claimed him.

"Dark Prince?" Adrian asked, walking up to Harry, who shrugged.

"It sounded right."

"Well, Dark Prince does sound more regal than Dark Lord, but does Voldemort really deserve such a title?"

Harry shrugged again, putting out his cigarette, before immediately lighting a new one.

"I don't rightly care, Adrian. I've already lost interest in that man."

–

THE DARK LORD RESURRECTED, AND INCARCERATED!

"And we become heroes," Adrian said, sitting in the kitchen of Number Twelve with Harry, Sirius, and Tonks, reading the Daily Prophet. "They really do praise your magical skills, Harry. Calling you the next Albus Dumbledore."

"Don't they say anything about you?" Tonks asked, and Adrian shrugged.

"Not much, they just say that I helped Harry bring Voldemort down. I guess, being what I am, I'm not considered much of a human in their eyes."

"Well, we better get to work," Harry said, standing up and stretching. "I feel like the fun is just beginning."

–

Journal, March 3rd, 1996,

Voldemort is behind bars and the search for the Horcruxes has been started. It is only a matter of time before we find them all, I'd say. After that, Voldemort will be killed, hopefully. I hope they will allow me to dissect him afterward. Although I am nowhere near as interested in him as I once was, his body may provide me with some interesting information. This is just a guess, though. He could be completely uninteresting, so I risk wasting my time, something I am not interested in doing.

Well, I'm starting to run out of pages in this journal. About time to start a new one, I think...

–

Final entry, Journal, March 5th, 1996,

I have quit my job as an Unspeakable. It has become boring, as I have learned everything of importance in that place. My contacts in America have dug up some more information on the Stargate Project. Apparently, they have started activating the Stargate once more. Over a dozen teams are being sent out daily to various worlds to gather information and technology in the fight against an evil race of aliens known as the Goa'uld.

Ah well, that is not all I have found out about the Stargate Project, but I do not have enough pages in this journal to talk about it. I'm on the last page now. I think I will start another journal, one dedicated only to the Stargate Project.

It has caught my interest.

Harry J. Potter,

12 Grimmauld Place, London,

Scientist.

–

Well, there you have it, the sixteenth and final chapter of In the Mind of a Scientist! Now, as you can tell, I didn't really explore the Stargate universe, so I thought that I might make a sequel, which will be a full Stargate crossover! Let me know what you think about that prospect!

I hope you've enjoyed reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it! Please leave a review on your way out!

This is ZnK, signing off! Peace out!

17. Sequel!

ZnK here, just coming to tell you that your wait is over! The sequel has been posted! It's called Madness at the Gate, a Stargate SG-1, and Atlantis crossover! I sincerely hope you enjoy it, and I'd like to thank you for waiting so patiently!