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Black and silver, red and bronze, every color imaginable flowed and ebbed in a dome above the Isle of Black. Harry Potter sat on the beach of the tranquil island, his hands buried in the sand. With the completion of his gram, and the animagus ritual, Harry had little pressing to do. He felt like he probably understood Hermione's incessant ramblings about books she was reading. His mind had grown accustomed to the strain of understanding the runes to be used in the complicated procedures, and it ached for the same kind of pressure.

Sirius and Remus had taken to teaching the boy everything from first to third year, all over again. They realized that with a variant of a learning disability from the curse scar, Harry might not grasp everything about the spells. The grown marauders had taken to teaching Harry more magical theory than spells. They said that everything they would probably teach him, he would learn in school anyway.

In order to not bore the soon to be fourteen year old, the men ramped up their prank war. Nearly every day, Harry was involved in a prank. Some were elaborate, and some were simple.

Every day Harry was amazed by the skill that his pseudo uncles would wield their magic with. He began to understand how every student in Hogwarts became more skilled by simply attending at the same time as the Marauders. Harry often spent hours in front of his mirror trying to undo spell damage caused by the pranks he was caught in. Without more knowledge or experience, Harry was hesitant to retaliate.

One benefit that Harry began to see was that his body was filling out. The potions Blaise promised had come to Remus's house, and they helped Sirius and Harry in extreme ways. Gone was the skinny, boney boy that was last year's Harry Potter. In his place stood the new Harry. At above average height, and a fencer's build, Sirius was convinced that Harry's fan club would grow exponentially next year.

Sirius now had roughly the same physique as he did before he went into Azkaban. The healer's potions combined with Dobby's cooking had done wonders for the escaped inmate. His hair had the shine it did before his incarceration, and his body was on the fast track to rebuilding the densely corded muscles of the man's youth.

Harry sighed as he watched the tide break against the beach. The sea spray made the secluded cove smell of sea water, and the pockets of standing water made for excellent hideaways for crabs. The young teen's eyes shifted from the crustaceans and their boring grey hued aura back to the dome of magic. Sirius had explained that it was generations of Black wizards adding their own personal flairs to the wardstone that gave it so many colors.

With the creation of his gram, and the fact that it operated based on Harry's resonance rather than simply its own magic, Sirius gave Harry a crash course on one of the most enigmatic principles of magic, the effect of Resonance on a person or a creature. Over a three hour period of one on one teaching, Harry's head was spinning.

Sirius had simply laughed and told Harry that most of his seventh year classmates were simply happy to understand that resonance happened. They didn't think that the headache was worth the learning.

Remus had backed up his friend, and told Harry that the previous year, only one person bothered to actually study resonance in any depth. The skilled defense professor had explained the concept to the student, and given a demonstration on the practical usage of it. The student, a male Slytherin named Davin Larron, had immediately asked Remus to teach him how to control his own resonance. Remus explained to Harry that that was why he had to wait until the second term to teach the patronus, it was a vastly complicated process teaching Davin.

Not for the first time, Harry thought back to his 'lesson' with Sirius.

"Pup resonance is the power of magic given life through senses. It is color, and sound, it has a feel and its own taste. With a strong enough nose, you can smell it."

"Using your gram, you can see the resonance in the air, you can feel the effect of wards, and you can smell the decay of magic. When you look at me with your gram's power active, what do you see?"

Harry thought for a moment, he saw it clearly, but explaining what he saw seemed impossible. "I see, almost a silvery pulsing aura. It's there, but it's not there. It sounds like an elegant dance with drums? I don't know how to explain it."

Sirius smiled and clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Good! The aura and sounds are basic parts of who I am. As my moods shift, so too will my aura and music. I've been told that when I'm angry, it's as if dozens of souls were screaming a haunting chorus. I've always been afraid to listen to my own anger." Sirius bowed his head sheepishly.

"You often don't know what your own aura is or looks like, nor do you hear your own music. It is very true what they say, that you often know others better than you know yourself."

Harry felt that he was following, it wasn't very complicated at all.

"But that's not what people use resonance for. Resonance is a measure of your magic. If you can directly control your own resonance, you can control your magic much more effectively. Take for example, Dolohov, he's a death eater, and very good with cutting curses."

"With Dolohov's skill for lacerating his foes, he most likely has a resonance that is very cutting-oriented. But, what if a particularly clever witch or wizard throws up a shield that will hold against cutters very effectively?"

Harry thought for a moment, "I don't know, he would cast a blasting hex?"

Sirius smiled. "Yes, he would, but he is very good at manipulating his resonance in real time, so he would shift its' specialty from cutters to blasters. That means that a blasting hex that would feel like a sledgehammer to the gut, would instead feel like getting hit by a truck. This is called freeform magic, and it is exceptionally difficult. I think it is one of the requirements Voldemort has for his inner circle, the ability to wield freeform."

"But that's not all. Take for example a troll, trolls have very magic resistant hide. You know this from your encounter with one in your first year. This magical resistance comes from a troll's resonance."

Harry held up a hand, indicating for Sirius to pause his speech for a second. "Hold on, trolls have resonance?"

Sirius chuckled softly. "Yes, everything magical has resonance; even nonliving things. Another example I could use would be the metal Tisirium. Both trolls and tirsirium have a deep and grey resonance. If you can mimic the resonance of one perfectly, down to the color's hue, and the music's pitch, you can circumvent the powerful resistances both have. As the things you try to mimic become more powerful, they become much harder."

"Trying to mimic a kneazles's magic wouldn't be very hard, nor would it take very long. On the other hand, if you tried to mimic a dragon…"

The thought made Sirius smile. "A dragon would be nearly impossible to mimic. They have their own magic, and varying levels of intelligence. A typical, run of the mill dragon won't change it's resonance. If you could mimic it exactly however, you would still have to deal with the dragon's scales, and the fact that dragons bones and teeth are harder than steel."

Harry suddenly found himself in awe of Ron's brother, Charlie.

"Now, Pup, let's work on getting you to control your resonance."

Harry groaned, remembering the exercises his godfather had made him do to try to control his magic. Each one was built simply to frustrate him until his resonance changed to help with the task. He was supposed to then understand the change, and force it to happen again.

It didn't work. Sirius tried again the next day, and the day after that, and that was why Harry was lying on the beach, hidden by the sheer cliff walls and a large boulder. Sirius wanted to get Harry to try again that day, and Harry was simply too frustrated.

The teen was quite sure that he wouldn't be found. He cast his scent all over the island to mess with Padfoot's nose, and he silenced his breathing with a specialized spell.

Harry scratched the spot over his right shoulder blade that Sirius had implanted the thin gram. When Harry asked where Sirius recommended he put the gram, Sirius had offered several places, but the shoulder blade was the best one in Harry's opinion. The raven haired teen considered putting it in his left forearm, where Sirius told him the dark mark lay on the Death Eaters. Unfortunately for him, that would have caused a loss of functionality in his left hand.

Harry heard footsteps crunching on the sand behind him, and let out a menacing growl.

Remus walked into the irritated teen's line of sight with his hands in front of him, a sign of surrender. "I'm not going to make you try to work on your resonance. It's not necessary for a long time yet." The sandy haired werewolf sat on the sand next to Harry. He looked out over the beach, a wistful expression in his amber eyes.

"Before you were born, we all came out to this island. Your mum got it in her head that she was going to build a sailboat."

Harry's eyes were focused on the werewolf, begging him to continue. Remus saw the look in his eyes and smiled.

"I don't know why, but she was so adamant that she would build an amazing sailboat. She went into the jungle and used a few powerful cutting curses to fell several trees. After that she brought the entire tree trunks to this cove, and used a sticking charm to fasten them all together." Remus chuckled in rememberance. "It was the most pathetic looking boat I've ever seen. Imagine just sticking eight palm trees together to make a big U shape. She used another tree that was torn apart by her spells as the back and front of the boat, because she didn't bend any of the trees. After about three hours of diligent work, and lots of laughing from the rest of us, she declared the boat seaworthy."

"She convinced Prongs to get in it with her, and to sail off into the sunset." The werewolf shook his head slowly. "James knew what was going to happen, but there was no arguing with your mother. He got in it with her, and cast numerous charms over his body and clothes to keep them dry. She laughed at him, and said that her boat was ship-shape and ready to sail."

Remus put his hand to the side of his mouth away from Harry and whispered conspiratorially. "I think she had a concussion or something. Maybe she just inhaled the wrong potion fumes."

"Anyway, she and James managed to the boat into the water, and it sailed."

Harry's jaw went a bit slack. "It did? My mum made a boat that sailed on her first try?"

Remus laughed, it was deep and came from his core. "Sort of. You see, she was so incredible with charms, the logs repelled water, and it glided over the waves effectively."

Sirius walked up, having finally pinpointed the sounds of talking and laughing. "Don't forget, Lily forgot to make a sail or rudder." He chuckled, envisioning the boat.

Harry laughed, picturing his mum and dad trying to steer the boat without its most important features.

Remus continued the story, laughter in his eyes. "After about five minutes in the water, the boat simply fell apart. There was so much magic in the water here, it overrode the spells keeping the boat together."

"Lily was sputtering about how everything had been going according to plan, and your dad was laughing at her." Remus laughed again, more softly this time.

"She even named the boat." Sirius said. "It was the Setting Sun. When we got back to England, James went to a harbor, and bought a sailboat. He named it the Setting Sun II, and he set sail with Lily for a month."

Remus laughed at the memory again, and ruffled Harry's hair. "You were born eight and a half months later. It must have been some pleasure cruise."

All three wizards laughed and told more stories, reliving the glory days of the Marauders.

July passed quickly, faster than any month Harry had ever been part of. On his birthday, Remus took Harry to the Royal Western Yacht Club. Harry walked among the yachts until he found the Setting Sun II. He was overcome with emotion, and thanked Remus profusely for taking him.

Remus just nodded and said that it's what anyone would have done for him. Remus's eyes had a glazed look to them, and Harry saw the man was on the verge of tears himself.

Together the pair of wizards had lunch, and spent the day exploring the neighboring town.

Sirius, unable to leave the island, told Harry that although he was working on his birthday present, it might not be available for a long time. But he did tell Harry what it was.

"Each of the inscribers you used on the gram used a solitary language. The three were, as you know, Greek, Latin, and Norse. However, a wellspring is a transcriber that is made with over two dozen languages and vast inherent magical power. I have the power, and I know nine runic languages. Over the course of the next year, I intend to learn many more. I'm trying to make a wellspring for you Harry."

Sirius had said that he expected to be done in a year or two, but Harry was doubtful. Runic languages were easier to learn than normal ones, but a wellspring needed twenty four languages. Sirius still needed to learn thirteen.

August passed similarly to July. Harry spent it reading his Runes and Arithmacy texts, and studying the notes Blaise had sent him. Harry noted that Daphne's notes were very through, and condensed at the same time. Hermione had a tendency to simply copy down everything that the professor said, and that made studying her notes a bit of a chore. In comparison, Daphne's were easier to read, and the information was more obvious.

Blaise and Harry had continued writing to each other, and were starting to develop a good friendship through the letters. Neither offered very much personal information, but both felt they knew each other better than most.

Isabella had sent Remus a letter to give to Sirius, and the two started communicating again. Isabella noted with a wry humor that the authorities that kept a close eye on her were probably very nervous about the quantity of letters coming and going from her house. Sirius told her various things she could do to drive them mental, and she took pictures of the watcher's reactions. The two were quickly rebuilding the relationship that was stolen from them.

By the time August twenty first, the day he was going to leave for the Weasleys, came around, Harry was confident that he could place in the fourth year classes he was studying for. He had made some progress on unlocking his Animagus, but he wasn't close enough. Sirius had thought that by waging a prank war, the instincts would become far more prominent, and Harry would have shifted by then. He warned that the first transformation could be right around the corner.

Harry also attempted several more times to manipulate his resonance, but couldn't manage it. Remus and Sirius told him not to worry, and that he shouldn't need it for a long time. Harry, however couldn't escape the nagging feeling that he would need both skills this upcoming year.

Harry walked into the kitchen on the morning of the twenty second, his trunk floating lazily behind him. Dobby was in the kitchen preparing a large breakfast, since it was the last day he would get to serve Harry.

Sirius looked up from his syrup coated sausages, and grinned. He pulled out a bag of coins, and threw it to Harry. "Here, I've always wanted to be the cool friend who buys everything. But Prongs was just as rich as I was, and Moony refused any form of charity. The only person I could buy for was Wormtail, but he became entitled, so I stopped." Sirius shrugged and gestured to the coin purse. "Just tell Ron and Hermione that Padfoot's paying for everything."

Remus walked in from outside, his eyes alight. "Are you ready to go? I've already made the portkey for the trip."

Harry nodded, and Remus grabbed his trunk, and tapped his wand to a rope, saying "Padfoot's parting present."

Instantly, Harry was sucked into the vortex of colors, sights and smells that came with a portkey. He was spinning at a breakneck speed, and could only hold on to his breakfast by focusing on the relaxed form of Remus.

As quickly as it began, the spinning ended. Harry crouched, and tried to land without falling. It didn't work, Harry found himself on his backside as soon as he landed. Remus laughed as he pulled the floating trunk up to the front door of the Burrow. He called back over his shoulder.

Remus knocked on the front door, and, predictably, a redhead answered. He was built more like the twins than Ron. While Ron and Percy were lanky, this Weasley was stockier. He also had a shiny burn on his right side, just peaking over the collar of his shirt.

"Well, hello. Ah, welcome to the Burrow, what do you want?"

Remus chuckled as he looked over the stocky redhead's shoulder, looking for one of the Weasleys he knew. "I'm Remus Lupin, and I'm here to drop off The-Boy-Who-Lived." Remus ducked as he sensed a clump of dirt being thrown at him. The redhead simply caught the dirt, not allowing it to get in the house.

"Ah, Ron's been waiting. I'm Charlie, would you happen to be the defense professor from last year?"

Remus smiled and nodded.

"Brilliant. I've been hoping to talk to you. Percy, the twins, and Ron rarely agree on anything, however they all say that you were an amazing defense teacher." Charlie opened the door for Remus, and picked up the trunk that had fallen from the magic holding it up.

Harry had finally made his way to the door, and Charlie smiled and waved him in.

The first thing Harry noticed were the smells coming from the kitchen. Although he had just eaten a large breakfast, he still wanted to taste the food being prepared. The sounds were those that were unique to the Weasley house, Ginny was threatening Ron, the twins caused an explosion, and Mrs. Weasley was yelling at someone.

Strangely though, Harry didn't feel the same things he felt last time he was in the Burrow. The last time, he had felt at home, as if he was a member of the family. Instead, Harry felt as if he was simply at his friend's house.

"Honestly Bill, with that earring? What do your bosses say?" Mrs. Weasley's argument finally made it's way to Harry's ears.

"Mum, they don't care as long as I bring back lots of treasure." Harry knew that Bill's job was to break into Egyptian tombs and retrieve gold and precious gems, which are often cursed. Rounding the corner to the kitchen, Harry got his first look at the eldest Weasley. He was tall, with a bright red ponytail, and a fang earring.

Harry had thought that with Bill having been the Head Boy, and a prefect, he would have been like Percy. But instead he looked like the definition of cool. His clothes wouldn't have looked out of place in a muggle rock concert. However, the boots he was wearing were high quality dragon hide.

It was obvious to Harry from the stitching on his jacket and pants, Bill's clothes were custom made. Blaise was right, Bill had to make a lot of money, but his parents wouldn't accept any of it. With that revelation, Harry saw a large parallel between Remus and Mr. Weasley.

Harry looked back at Bill's earring, it seemed, off. Drawing up the power in his gram, Harry looked for the magic in the room. He felt the resonance of all the Weasleys in the area, but his eyes were drawn to the power in the fang.

Harry smirked. "Actually Mrs. Weasley, I think that Bill's bosses might be upset if he stopped wearing the most important feature of his job."

Bill laughed loudly. It was infectious as he turned to Harry. His hand went up to rub the earring. "Harry Potter, full of suprises aren't you?"

Bill walked to Harry and extended his hand, Harry shook it, gripping just as tightly as the Curse Breaker.

"Man kid, nice grip. How did you know the earring is a Sensor?"

"I have one too, I made it this summer. I am hoping that the project my uncle and I did will let me into the fourth year Arithmacy and Runes classes." Harry shrugged as Bill's eyebrows rose.

"That's very impressive. I would assume that your uncle also fixed your eyesight?"

"No, the goblins did that. They also helped deal with my scar." Harry brushed the hair on his forehead away from his scar, the faint white line could only be noticed because of Harry's tan.

Bill was thoughtful for a moment, then asked, "June the twenty-ninth?"

Harry grimaced, he knew why Bill would know the date. "Yes, four goblins died trying to kill whatever was in the scar. They told me it possessed one and they had to restrain the goblin, and kill whatever was in it."

Bill's eyes took on a haunted look as he seemed lost in a memory. "It sounds almost like an Ankh. I wasn't willing to pick one up a year ago, but one of the apprentices did. The soul of a pharaoh possessed her. We couldn't figure out how to get the soul out, and the apprentice killed herself to be free from the pain."

"I don't know how you managed to keep something in your head for so long, so congratulations on surviving." There was no humor in Bill's eyes, nor in his tone. If anything there was a slight amount of awe.

Harry shrugged again, not sure how to respond. As he walked into the family room, he heard Hermione jabbering to Remus about her Defense essay. Harry spotted Ron in a chess game with Mr. Weasley, which Mr. Weasley was losing spectacularly, oblivious to the multitude of questions his friend was asking.

Remus for his part looked agitated. He had grown accustomed to one on one teaching with Harry, where each question was thought out and worded precisely. The flurry of questions were made impossible to answer by the bushy haired witch simply asking another right as she finished the first. Harry felt that the general gist of the questioning was about the summer homework.

"Hermione." Most of the heads in the room turned to Harry as he spoke. Various exclamations reached the raven haired teen, but he was first going to continue speaking to Hermione. "Remus isn't going to grade your essay. He isn't even going to see it."

Hermione looked like a fish out of water. Her mouth opened and closed, but not a sound came out. "But, he can still answer my questions!" She finally managed.

Remus responded quickly. "Hermione, think it through yourself. The teachers don't want what is said in the textbook, they want you to explain it simply. When you add extra information on to an essay, it only makes grading more irritating for the professors."

"None of them would say that to you of course, they would tell you that you had done extensive research. But one somewhat frequent complaint in the staff room is how your essays were so much longer than necessary. I only ever gave you E's or even A's because you didn't simplify your statements, they were too broad. I asked you a focused question and you would answer with a broad statement from your textbook. I want to know how you think and how you reason through your problems, it's what all the professors want. You are a very bright young witch, but your critical thinking skills seem very lacking."

The room was shrouded in silence. Remus's gaze held no mirth, his face showed no humor.

Ron was the first to recover from the verbal lashing that the former professor delivered. "You take that back! Hermione does too have critical thinking skills!"

Hermione's eyes were watery, and she turned to smile at Ron. The redhead's ears were as crimson as the hair on his head.

"No Ron, I won't take it back." The sandy haired werewolf replied. "I know it's harsh, but it's the truth Hermione. In not one paper of yours did I find critical thinking. You would simply parrot the textbook, to the letter. I know what the textbook says, and I know what all the other books you would use say. I want to hear your reasoning. I want to know how you think in calm situations, I taught Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was my job to get you ready to tackle the evils of this world, and yet, how can I give you instruction if I don't have an inkling of how you think?"

"Do you simply recite a textbook in your head whenever you are in need?"

Hermione nodded, confirming that was what she did.

"There was a girl like that in my school days." Remus spoke softly, hesitantly. "Her name was Marlene McKinnon. She was very bright, but she always used the textbooks as her reference. She fought against Voldemort, as I am sure you plan to." Remus ignored the flinches at the name of the dark lord.

"If you ask Hagrid, he'll tell you that Marlene was one of the best. She was very skilled, and she knew a lot about spells and their effects."

Hermione looked through a curtain of her own hair, a few tears had rolled down her cheeks. "Where is she?"

Instead of Remus answering, as Harry expected him to, Mr. Weasley spoke. "She's dead Hermione. Antonin Dolohov killed her with a spell of his own creation. Marlene knew as many spells and counter spells as she could possibly learn, but didn't know enough about magical theory, or the inner workings of magic to reverse the damage done to her. Mr. Lupin's words are harsh, but true."

Remus knelt next to Hermione, and placed a hand on her shoulder. He whispered into her ear, and her countenance changed drastically. She went from crying to furious in a heartbeat.

Remus quickly stood and left the Burrow. There was no crack, but Harry knew he dissapparated, the werewolf was very quiet in his movement.

Ron was looking at Harry, wondering why he didn't say anything to the marauder.

Hermione was seething, and quickly bolted out the back door.

Harry was counting on his fingers, and nodding. "It's a full moon tonight, under most circumstances Remus wouldn't have said those things. He's normally very reserved."

Ron looked like he had been struck. "You think that excuses him?! He just told Hermione she was stupid!"

Harry was about to respond when Charlie intervened. "No Ron, he didn't. He told her that she didn't employ critical thinking on her essays, and that was detrimental to her grades. I don't know what he whispered, but I doubt it was very flattering. Mr. Lupin was being very honest, and telling Hermione what she didn't want to hear. Unfortunately in this case, that was his honest opinion of her. If you get mad at him for doing that, you need to start getting mad at yourself. You have no filter on your tongue, whatever you think, you say. Mr. Lupin did the exact same thing, but just against one of your friends."

Ron spluttered, he obviously wasn't used to being talked down to by Charlie. "No I don't! Besides, he had no right to say any of that."

Charlie sighed, growing tired of his brother's antics. "He had as much right to say that as you do to say that all Slytherins are slimy gits. I dated one from sixth to seventh year, she was not slimy at all. You don't like them based on the fact that Morgana LeFay and You-Know-Who were in Slytherin. I dated one based on the facts that she was very pretty, very intelligent, and that Merlin himself was a Slytherin. Get over yourself and your schoolboy grudge."

Ron stormed up to his room, unwilling to hear any more of what his brother had to say.

After a brief moment of silence, Harry spoke. "Today could have gone better."

Mr. Weasley chuckled mirthlessly. "No, it went very well. Ron needed to hear that, and Hermione's antics do often need to be curbed. She can be bossier than necessary, and far too overbearing. I think she read too far into Remus's words. But at the same time, he probably should not have said what he did. That whole conversation went to hell in a handbasket."

Mr. Weasley looked to his second son, "Thank you for saying what needed to be said."

Charlie shrugged, nonplussed. "He needed to hear it. Besides, I fight dragons for a living, and live all the way over in Romania. There's really nothing to worry about from Ron."

Harry sat in the family room for a little over an hour, talking to Charlie about the dragons on the preserve mainly.

"Saran is a Hungarian Horntail, she's vicious, and nesting. She has a clutch of about a dozen eggs, but I don't know how many are fertile."

Harry's brow drew together in confusion.

"A dragon will often lay somewhere near ten eggs, but only one or two will be fertile. That way, if a Brownsen or an Albara try to take an egg they could get away with nothing."

"A what?"

Charlie laughed. "Sorry, I forgot you're only going into your fourth year. A Brownsen is a man sized flightless bird, and an Albara is a magical breed of Hyena. Both eat the eggs of dragons."

"That doesn't seem very smart." Harry noted.

"No, but they do it anyway. If we find any of them near the reserve we just stun them and feed them to the dragons. Saran has developed quite a taste for Brownsen drumsticks." Charlie grinned, it was feral and nearly draconic, which made Harry laugh.

"What? It wasn't that funny of a joke."

Harry slowly stopped laughing, "No, its not that. When you grinned I thought it looked draconic, I found it humorous considering your occupation."

Charlie grinned again. "I've been told that a lot. Sylla, the head of the preserve, says that it's why the dragons like me so much. I think that the dragons just like me more because of my hair, there is an apprentice with hair like mine, and the dragons love her too."

Harry smiled, thinking that his mum would have gotten along great with dragons then. He looked at the clock on the wall, and saw that enough time had passed that Ron had probably cooled off.

"It's been nice talking to you Charlie, and I'd love to hear more about the dragons later, but now I'm going to go try to talk to Ron. He really needs to change this year." Or else I don't see our friendship going anywhere. Harry added in his mind, it was hard to admit, but Ron really needed to grow up in order for their friendship to work.

Harry walked up the many stairs to Ron's room, dreading the impending conversation. He knew that he needed to talk to Ron about Blaise, and he didn't think that the volatile redhead would take kindly to his new found Slytherin friend. Just another issue to deal with…

Harry knocked on Ron's door, and walked in without being invited. The redheaded boy was lying on his mattress, staring at his ceiling. The boy's blue eyes shifted to his bedroom door, and he groaned loudly.

"Oh, it's you."

Harry stood still, confused by his friend's reaction. "What's wrong?"

Ron stood from his bed and walked to Harry, the redhead was a solid three inches taller than the raven haired boy. "Why didn't you say anything to Professor Lupin? He had no right to say any of that."

Ron turned and threw his hands in the air. He was silent for a time his back to Harry, eventually he turned around. There was a fire in his eyes that Harry had never seen there before. "You even defended him!" Ron grabbed Harry's shoulders roughly. "He made Hermione cry! And you defended him!"

Raw emotion passed through Ron's eyes, he was hurt, he felt betrayed, and he was angry. Ron was angrier than Harry had ever seen him. "Why? Why did you defend him?"

Harry worked hard to keep on a mask of indifference, the same mask that Sirius wore when speaking as Lord Black. "Because Ron, Remus is a good man, and he needed to say what he did. I defended him because he hardly ever says what's on his mind. It's good for him, he needs to let loose more often. Besides, you know as well as I do that what he said was the truth."

Ron's face went slack, as if he'd just been slapped. However it didn't last, his jaw clenched, and his eyes burned with fury. "Truth, Harry? The truth is that she is our friend! She is always there for us when we need it! You just stood there! You could have said something, you could have made this better! Professor Lupin shouldn't have said anything. He really is just a dark creature!"

Harry's fist was flying before he even realized it. It impacted with Ron's cheek solidly, and the tall redhead grasped it in shock and pain. Harry growled deeply and menacingly, it started in his core and extended through his entire body. His magic shifted, and he sensed his resonance change drastically.

Ron cowered, never having heard Harry's growl nor felt the power of his magic. Harry's eyes burned with intensity and rage. He spoke lowly, his anger seeping into his voice. "Never speak that way about my uncle again. Remus has been there for me all summer, where were your letters? What have you said to me?"

Harry felt his insides begin to change. His ribs were elongating, and his tailbone began to grow. He walked quickly from Ron's room, and once he was clear of the Burrow, he sprinted to the apple orchard.

Fur sprouted on Harry's arms, it was thick and black as midnight. His jaw began to extend, and his teeth grew. The hair on his head became shorter and more matted, while his eyes turned to a dark golden color. His pupil contracted and expanded quickly, adjusting to the light. His back lengthened and arched, while his hands grew webbing halfway up the fingers. Fur was sprouting all over his body, and he was quickly losing a portion of his mind to the instincts of the wolf. His anger at Ron increased, and he began to search for the boy's scent.

Harry wrestled for control with the wolf. A part of him wanted to give in, to let the wolf win. Harry knew that he couldn't, so he fought. The wolf fought back, it wanted to rip into the one who insulted his pack, and it wanted to dismember Ron.

After a couple intense minutes, Harry got control of the wolf. Its instincts and mind were still intact, but they took second place to Harry's. He walked around, letting the wolf guide his motions, and found himself in front of a reflective pond. The blue sky and clouds were clearly reflected in the water, and so was Harry's new body.

The first thing he noticed was his size. He was almost as large as a horse. His paws were the size of dinner plates, and his teeth were several inches long. He was a Dire Wolf, one of the greatest predators in the world. He put his nose to the sky and sniffed. His sense of smell was so much greater now. He could smell the sap of the apple trees, and the growing apples. He could smell the animals in the brush, the rabbits darting around the trees. He grinned, it made an odd image on the surface of the water.

Harry attempted to shift back to human, Sirius told him that it might be difficult the first time. He grasped hold of his magic, and allowed the energy to flow through him. Instead of turning back, he felt reenergized, as if he could run for days. He tried again, and the fur receded, his bones shrank and repositioned themselves.

The loss of senses came as a shock to Harry. He couldn't smell anything now, just the mixture of all the scents he could identify just a moment ago. The sounds were also so minute, he couldn't hear anything it seemed like.

Harry felt for his magic, and found the primal side of it. He knew that in just a moment's notice, he could shift back to his lupine form. He could become a hunter again.

Harry entered the Burrow through the backdoor. Bill nodded in his direction, acknowledging his presence. Looking for Hermione, Harry walked through most of the house. The only rooms he hadn't checked so far were Ginny's and the master bedroom. He knocked on Ginny's closed door, quietly asking permission to enter.

Hermione's muffled voice told him to come in. Where Harry expected her eyes to be bloodshot and puffy, they were clear. "Why didn't you defend me?" Her question was only simple in its' complexity.

"Because Remus was speaking his mind. It doesn't mean I agree with what he says, but it was probably something you needed to hear. He's right though, you do simply quote from books, and if you don't have an answer to a question, you look for it in a book. You hardly ever take the time to think something through before you look for the answer in the library."

"Your notes are similar. You simply write down everything the professor says, whether it's important or not. That makes them hard to read and unnecessarily long."

Hermione's gaze held anger similar to Ron's. "But you still didn't help me. You didn't say anything to Professor Lupin. You didn't try to comfort me." Tears started to pool in her eyes. "You acted as if it didn't bother you. You only have two friends Harry! How can you let someone treat one of them like that?"

For the second time in under an hour, Harry's instincts flared dangerously. He could feel the wolf trying to take over again, but he quashed it harshly. His voice however, carried the same dangerous quality that he used against Ron. "That's rich. You say I should have comforted you? How exactly did you comfort me when I killed Quirrel? How did you comfort me when I met the shade of Voldemort? How did you comfort me when my chance at a home with my godfather was ripped from me? You didn't. You thought only of yourself and your precious grades. I meant nothing when compared to your marks in transfiguration."

"I do have other friends Hermione. You need to take a step back and look at yourself. You're overbearing and bossy, the bookworm of Hogwarts. You say I only have two friends? As untrue as that is for me, it is true for you. Ron and I are the only ones who are willing to put up with you. I have been receiving mail this year. I've been waiting a month and a half for a single letter from you. I never got one, it was as if you didn't care. So, until you show me that you do care, I won't."

"You're too bossy for the Ravenclaws. You're too overbearing for the Hufflepuffs. You're unwillingness to let go of your muggle background prevents you from even being near the Slytherins." Harry advanced on Hermione, closing the gap between them. "Lavender and Parvati can't stand you, Seamus and Dean think you're annoying, and you frighten Neville."

"Face it Hermione, you need to change. I will not remain friends with someone who says what you just did. I will not allow you to boss me around anymore. I am my own man, and I will not be cowed by you."

"Until you apologize for your words, we are through."

Harry walked away from Hermione. He turned his back on her, and walked through the door to Ginny's room. He knew the things he said were harsh, and he knew he just completely broke any possibility of friendship with Hermione, but he said what he needed to say. He felt free, and relieved. It had been a long time since Harry let as much emotion off of his chest as he just did. Harry walked to the family room to speak with Charlie some more. He ran into Ginny on his way.

What he just said about comfort rang loudly in his ears. "Ginny. Wait."

The freckled girl turned around, and looked at him.

"I'm sorry I never asked you this before, but how are you?" His tone made it abundantly clear what he was talking about.

The girl wrapped her arms around herself. "I still have nightmares, and I have these impulses…" She shuddered. "But I'm managing. I think I'll just have to manage for the rest of my life."

Harry couldn't accept that. He saved her life, he wasn't going to allow her to just 'manage'. "Have you tried occulmency?"

She shook her head. "No. What is that?"

"It's a mental magic. It is used for repelling unwanted visitors from your mind."

Ginny quietly interrupted, "It's too late for that."

Harry grimaced, his word choice had been less than stellar. "It is also used for organizing your mind, for things like studying and effectively recalling information. But, in this case, it is possibly the best way to deal with trauma."

Ginny was pensive for a moment, but she finally smiled, it didn't reach her eyes. "Thank you for the concern. I understand you not talking about it sooner, I mean, you did kill a basilisk and fight Voldemort."

Harry smiled at her use of the feared name.

"If he's invaded my mind, I think I'm entitled to speak his name." She grinned, it was predatory and malicious. "Besides, it makes Ron shake."

Harry laughed, he knew he probably wasn't ever going to be friends with Hermione again, but he didn't know about Ron.

Several hours later, after talking with Charlie about the various dragons on the preserve, Harry drifted into a deeply restful sleep