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Harry awoke to someone shaking his shoulder. "Come on Harry, it's time to get up." Mrs. Weasley's warm voice floated over him. Rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, Harry slowly sat upright.

"I've made breakfast for you all, it's on the table. I'm going to go wake everyone up."

Harry slowly made his way into the kitchen, his footsteps were small, but his feet didn't drag. The delicious aroma of the bacon made its way to Harry's nose, and he let out a content sigh.

Mr. Weasley was sitting alone at the table, his plate piled with a little bit of everything his wife made. He was holding his head with both hands, his receding hair was pushed back even further.

"Hullo Mr. Weasley." Harry said, the sound seemed alien in the early hour.

Mr. Weasley raised his head, his pale blue eyes were mostly covered by his drooping eyelids. "Hi Harry." The Weasley patriarch cracked a genuine smile. Harry had been concerned what the man's opinion of him might be after the day before.

"Between you and me, getting up at this ungodly hour is ridiculous, but if you could tell everyone that it's a great time and that we're very lucky to have it, I'd be most grateful."

Harry chuckled softly, the predawn air seemed to protest any sounds. He looked at the wall clock, and saw that it was barely past four in the morning. "Ungodly is right, why are we up so early?"

"We need to be clear across town at Six Fifteen. Knowing my family, we'll need to do some last minute packing, so I've simply accounted for that." The older man dug into his food with a gusto Harry had only seen from Ron. When he came up to breathe a couple of minutes later, he spoke again. "I also didn't want Hermione and Ron to get up and have to be out here before you. Your words yesterday were not kind." He held up a hand to stall Harry's comments. "Unkind, but what needed to be said."

Harry smiled and started eating, expelling the breath he wasn't aware he was holding. As a man who had raised many children, and most were great people, Arthur Weasley's opinion meant a lot to Harry.

Fred and George, identical to the last freckle, descended the stairs together, their arms were thrown over each other's shoulder. One of them yawned, and the other looked to the couch for Harry. The one on the left made eye contact with Harry, and both twins started walking to the table.

After sitting down and filling their plates, an oddly synchronized task for the early hour, one of them finally spoke. "Brilliant show yesterday mate. You said what needed to be said, and you didn't allow for whining."

The other twin nodded, and spoke through a full mouth. "Ruddy good. Everyone in Gryffindor is tired of Hermione's nagging, maybe you'll have curbed it."

Harry identified the second one to speak as George, he was better at pronouncing words with food in his mouth. The young teen nodded, and Remus's statement about their skill earlier in the summer came back to him.

"Guys, I have a proposition for you."

Both twins looked up from their food, wearing identical eager grins. "What is it?"

"What izh eet?"

"Over the summer I have been living with Remus Lupin, as I'm sure you deduced yesterday." Harry got identical nods. "As a professor, he wasn't impressed by you. He thought you slacked off too much, and didn't put enough effort into your work."

The twins looked slightly abashed, and avoided their father's gaze.

Harry continued after a second. "As Moony of the Marauders, he was unimpressed by your pranks."

The sausage in George's mouth fell out, piece by piece. The pumpkin juice in Fred's mouth also ended up across the room, after a perfectly performed, non-rehearsed spit take. They spoke in unison. "Professor Lupin was a Marauder!?"

Harry chuckled, having achieved the intended results of his proclamation. "Yes. Moony, as in the full moon; He was unimpressed by your work. He thought that you displayed a shallow knowledge of magic, and an over reliance on gag items. Your spellwork was sloppy, and your pranks seemed to be only half thought through."

Harry held up a hand, forestalling any retorts. "But I am willing to help you better yourselves. This summer I have lived with, and participated in a prank war between, Padfoot and Moony. I have also discovered that I am the son of Prongs."

The twins wore identical looks of awe. "How can you help us?"

"By being the invisible ringleader to your two man war team. This year, when I need a big prank done, you two will be the first I call. Make no mistake, there will be big pranks this year, and we will rock the foundations of Hogwarts. Can I count on you to help me at a moment's notice?"

"Bloody hell, of course you can Harry!" Fred spoke first, George still seemed to be in shock.

Mr. Weasley laughed, it echoed through the small dining room. "I haven't seen anyone render either of my twins speechless in a long time Harry. Good job." He dabbed at his face with his napkin. "Out of curiosity, is Padfoot Sirius Black?"

Harry nodded, assuming that Ron told his family what happened at the end of the last year.

"Has he heard anything about Pettigrew?"

Harry shook his head. "No, he's in the wind. Sirius has gotten reports of him going to Albania, Spain, and even Siberia. We have no idea where he is, or what contacts he might have."

"If he's smart he won't ever come back. The chances of him being seen are too high now. Fat grey rat, no finger on his right forepaw, and a bald spot behind his left ear." Fred was reasoning it out. "We've already told all of our friends, minus a few details. I doubt he can survive without any kind of help; he was a pitiful pet for Perce and Ron. He would only sleep and eat." George nodded.

Shuffling feet alerted Harry that someone was on their way downstairs. Harry shifted his attention to the staircase and saw Ron, the boy's eyes widened, but he quickly recovered and walked to the table, sitting as far away from Harry as possible.

Hermione and Ginny followed soon after, with Hermione sitting next to Ron, and Ginny sitting next to Harry.

The people at the table ate in a groggy silence. Ron and Hermione shot furtive glances at Harry, and Ginny looked exasperated at both of them.

Harry decided that enough was enough. "I'm going outside for a while, all my things are already packed in my trunk, just yell from the door and I'll be able to hear you."

Mr. Weasley nodded to Harry, and looked ready to speak to his youngest son.

Harry found himself standing at the reflective pool once again. He dipped his hand in and brought some cool water to his mouth. The liquid was sweet, and coursing with power, a side effect of the extreme amount of ambient magic that the Weasley family disperses.

Harry dug into himself and found his core. In adition to his normal magic, he felt a separate power, one that was primal. Harry grasped that power and willed it to flow through him, to change him.

The effects were instantaneous. His spine grew, and fur covered his body. The transformation was not slow like the first time, it was done in less than a minute. Harry looked into the mirror pond, and saw the wolf staring back at him. His own gaze was intense and focused.

Harry tested his hearing, he tried to listen to everything. He heard the woodlice in the trees, he heard the heartbeat of the birds in their nests, he heard everything for miles. He heard Mr. Weasley telling Ron to grow up. He could even hear as more bacon was placed on the stove by Mrs. Weasley.

Satisfied, Harry tested his sense of smell. He sniffed the air around him, and found a scent he couldn't identify.

Harry shot into motion, racing between trees and jumping over roots. He nearly flew across the ground in pursuit of the unknown smell. His inner wolf delighted in the chase, it loved the feeling of playing. Harry's tongue lolled out of his mouth, drops of drool fell from it as he ran.

All too soon, Harry found the origin of the scent. A niffler had just come to the surface to eat some of the dew off of a large rock. The poor creature found itself under the careful scrutiny of one of the most dangerous predators on the planet.

Delighted to have found what he was looking for, Harry decided to stop tormenting the creature. He let out a puff of air blowing on the Niffler's fur, and he raced off toward the next unknown smell.

For the next hour, Harry ran around the Weasley's orchard at full speed, allowing the wind to fly through his fur, and appeasing his animal mind. All too soon, Mr. Weasley yelled from the porch that it was time to come in. Harry raced to the edge of the orchard, just out of sight, and transformed. The lack of senses came as a shock to Harry once again, but he kept his face impassive.

"Harry, we're leaving now, is there anything you need last minute?" Mr. Weasley's kind face was more worn than Harry had ever seen. The man was not accustomed to berating his children, and some of the things Harry heard could not have been easy for a parent to say.

"I just need to get my bag from my trunk and I'm ready."

Mr. Weasley nodded, thankful that Harry's packing habits were not similar to his own children's.

In just a couple of minutes the Weasley family, plus Hermione and Harry, were on their way to the World Cup.

"Harry mate,"

"What kind"

"Of pranks"

"Did Moony,"

"And Padfoot"

"Pull this summer?"

The twins had situated themselves on each side of Harry, forcing him to turn his head to look at each when they spoke.

"Oh you know, antigravity, magical locking spheres, and transmutation. The simple stuff." Harry smiled at the dumbstruck expressions of not just the twins, but Hermione as well. All three stood stock-still as the rest of the family kept walking. Ginny just looked confused, as if there was a great puzzle she needed to figure out.

Mr. Weasley looked back and laughed. "You got the twins twice today alone, Harry I think that's a new record." The man thought for a moment, then spoke again. "However, I knew Lord Black in the last war. Transmutation wasn't his forte, your father though… Lord Potter could turn a house into a bear with just a few well-placed runes and angles. He could make a steam engine into a basilisk, and a muggle automobile into an eagle."

"A steam engine into a basilisk?" Harry couldn't close his mouth, he had been told the principles of transmutation, and that seemed impossible.

"Yes. The Hogwarts Express. He got every death eater following it though. There were only about a dozen, but he was furious that they would not only target Hogwarts, but the defenseless students on the train. I have it on good authority he only slept for eighteen hours after that." The man shook his head, obviously still in awe. "He said later that the magic around and in the train allowed him to do it, and the killing gaze only stunned, but the fear factor of a several hundred foot long basilisk would do anyone in."

Ginny nodded, and Mr. Weasley put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry Gin, that was callous of me, I should have realized."

Ginny shook her head. "No, it was interesting. I want to learn a bit about transmutation now, I know more than anyone but Harry just how dangerous a Basilisk is. I also have a whole new respect for Harry's father."

"That wasn't Harry's father. That was Lord Potter, two masks the same man wore. James was a kind man, his eyes were always full of mischief. Lord Potter was cold as ice, and hard as iron. James Potter left before every fight of the war. Lord Potter came before every one, his mastery of Transmutation and Transfiguration were nothing short of incredible."

"Lady Potter was the same, she would take cover behind her husband's magic, and release some of the most powerful hexes I've ever seen. I don't know what most of the spells she used were, and I don't think I want to. She didn't fight very often, but when she did, I wouldn't want to be on the other side."

Hermione's voice spoke from the back of the group. "She used dark magic?"

Harry spoke before Mr. Weasley got the chance to placate the bushy haired witch. "Yes. She used dark magic. In war it is kill or be killed, so she learned everything she could from my dad and Sirius. None of them were slouches in combat magic."

Hermione huffed, but said nothing else. For several minutes, the group walked in silence to the hill with the portkey on it. It often seemed like either Ron or Hermione were going to say something, but they remained silent.

A chill swept from a northerly wind, and Harry subtly turned and started sniffing it, without being in wolf from he couldn't really smell any better than he could a month before, but Sirius said that with practice, he could lessen one of his other senses to enhance another. Harry didn't smell anything on the wind, he just felt the cool air go up his nose and tickle. No one noticed the odd behavior.

Soon after, the group reached the hill they were supposed to be at, and saw another family there.

"Hello Arthur!" A man's voice called, he was tall and balding, with his son at his side.

"Hello Amos, Cedric, how are you this morning?" Harry recognized the boy as the soon to be seventh year Hufflepuff Cedric Diggory.

"I am doing quite well! The World Cup, Arthur, I'm so excited! We've had these tickets for months now. When did you get yours?" Amos Diggory was an easily excitable man it seemed.

Mr. Weasley scratched the back of his head and looked to the ground. "I've only had them for a month or so. I just asked Ludo for ten and he gave them to me, he owes me a couple of favors."

Mr. Diggory's face registered confusion, then comprehension. "Ah, I wasn't aware that you're on first name basis with Mr. Bagman. That is a very good contact to have! You're teaching your sons well. My boy here has his own contacts all lined up. He is after all the only person who has ever caught a snitch before Harry Potter."

Cedric shuffled his feet. "Dad, he was attacked by dementors and fell a hundred feet from his broom. It doesn't really count."

Mr. Diggory waved off his son's comments. "Yes, but you caught it and he didn't, hmm? That just goes to show that you're better."

Cedric's face registered otherwise, but he held his tongue. He looked Harry in the eye and mouthed the word 'sorry'. Harry just shrugged and rolled his eyes.

"Say, Arthur, what was the portkey again?"

"This old boot." Mr. Weasley was holding a disgusting, smelly boot. "Everyone grab hold, the portkey will go off in thirty seconds." Everyone clambered to get close enough to touch the boot. Harry had to squeeze between the twins to put a finger on the thing.

At six seventeen exactly, the boot glowed blue, and everyone on the hill disappeared in a swirl of color.

Harry was hoping that with the twins on either side of him would keep him propped up. He was painfully mistaken. After landing in a heap on the ground at the World Cup, Harry came to his bearing to find the armpit of one twin in his face, and someone's foot under his throat.

"Six Seventeen from Ottery St. Catchpole." Harry tried to see who was talking, but it was impossible with the twin's armpit covering his eyes. Whoever the shoe belonged to was trying to move it, and digging the toe into Harry's Adams apple.

"Whoever –hurk- is trying to –guh- move their foot, stop." Harry's words carried at least, and the foot stopped wiggling.

"Sorry Harry." Came Cedric's abashed reply.

Slowly, the weasleys began to extract themselves from the pile. Ginny landed on the top, and she helped Ron up. The two of them helped either Fred or George, and the other twin got his brother. Eventually everyone was standing, and slightly bruised. There were two wizards in front of him, one in magenta robes, eerily similar to Lockharts' and another wearing simple black robes.

"Diggorys and Weasleys, from the hill east of Ottery St. Catchpole. That you?" The man in black robes asked.

Various forms of the word yes were heard coming from the large group.

"Go right on the path here," The man pointed to the stone path behind him. "And forward about one hundred meters. There will be a man standing in front of the cottage with your placement map. Now move along, you're standing where the Six Thirty-Two group will portkey in."

Mr. Weasley separated his group from Mr. Diggory. "I'm sorry, I really just don't like to spend more time with Amos than necessary."

Harry had a private smile. Mr. Weasley always seemed so unflappable, it was nice to know there was a man he didn't like. As the group walked on the path, Harry looked around. His eyes were catching the movements of people, but it was made hard to see by the fog.

"Harry, oldest chap,"

"Whatever happened,"

"To your glasses?"

Fred and George's speak was easier now that they weren't on either side of Harry. "The goblins broke a blockup of ocular magic, at the same time they dealt with my scar."

One twin nodded while the other spoke. "Ah, yes. I noticed you looked less ugly, that scar was a nasty shade of red for you."

"Rather like a giant, permanent, pimple." The second twin stated. The girls gagged, and Harry laughed.

"I've never thought of it that way." He admitted.

"Well now you have." Said one twin, Harry just decided to assume it was Fred.

"And you won't be able to think of it any other way." George said.

As they approached the cottage the two wizards spoke of, George's words rang true. Harry couldn't stop thinking of his scar as a giant pimple. The image made Harry laugh.

"Arthur! Good to see you!" The older wizard standing in front of the cottage clapped Mr. Weasley on the back.

"Eugene, it's good to see you again. Do you know where we're supposed to be setting up?" Mr. Weasley smiled at the man, Harry figured that he was an old friend.

"Ah yes, it's in the southwestern quadrant, plot number 342." Eugene pointed out the location on a map he handed to Mr. Weasley. "This whole week has been thrilling. Witches and Wizards from all over the world have been coming and going. I'm rather certain I saw Nicolas Flamel even."

Harry's eyebrows drew together in confusion. Professor Dumbledore had said that the Flamel's had destroyed their philosopher's stone, so how was Nicolas walking around a quidditch game two years later?

The teen, who had been introduced to a lot of pranking over the summer, realized it was much the same thing that Sirius and Peter did. If everyone thought that the philosopher's stone was destroyed, they wouldn't search for it. Even if he did destroy it, the man could simply make another one.

Harry smiled as he saw that Hermione was still trying to figure it out.

"Arthur you wouldn't believe it. They were trying to get muggles to run this thing. I mean, really? The biggest gathering of magical folk in four years, and they tried to put muggles in charge. Thankfully the ministry shot that down right quick, else we would need the whole obliviator department and people to try and say the Irish or Bulgarians couldn't celebrate tonight, with the statute of secrecy and all."

"Oh, and your kids can use magic here. The underage magic limits have been revoked, not that it would do much good anyway, no way to tell which kids were casting magic."

Mr. Weasley nodded and agreed that that would indeed be very foolish. He then led them to the spot they were supposed to set up the tent, and insisted on doing it the muggle way. Half an hour later, and with much coaching from Hermione, the tent had been erected.

"Well, it's not much, but it'll do." Mr. Weasley gestured for the group to enter to tent. Harry was dubious as to how everyone could fit into such a small area. As he entered, he saw the tent was far larger on the inside than the outside.

"I love magic." He breathed.

Mr. Weasley smiled. "As much as I think muggles are ingenious, I agree. I couldn't imagine life without magic."

Ron and the twins went off to one of the bedrooms to sleep. Ginny sat down in a couch to read a book, and Hermione chose for herself a chair.

Harry walked around the tent. It had a kitchenette, a dining room, three bedrooms, and a living room. Harry's mind worked to comprehend the magicks powering the area. He looked around using his 'sight' and saw the intricate weaving of magic flowing above the rooms, but nothing beyond. He looked to the doorway, and saw the magics that made up the earth, and how they stopped at the tent.

"Are we in a pocket dimension?"

Mr. Weasley looked up from his bag that he was digging through. "How did you – oh, right, you have a sensor like Bill's. Yes, all wizarding tents are pocket dimensions. The best expanded trunks are too, and so is platform 9 ¾. We use them all the time, but most people don't figure it out that easily. Especially not muggleborns, or muggle raised."

"There are a few risks involved in using pocket dimensions, but for the most part they're safe. If all the magic in the world suddenly vanished, the dimension would collapse. There are other risks, but they've all been taken care of centuries ago. It's some of the most impressive magic, and most commonplace. Diagon Alley is a pocket dimension, you can only access it from certain areas. I'm certain that there are many in Hogwarts."

Mr. Weasley kept digging through his bag, looking for who knows what. After several minutes, Harry asked to see the map of the campsite.

"What for?"

"I want to see where my friend's tent is." Hermione's eyes shot to Harry, but the raven haired teen didn't notice.

"Oh, of course. I would prefer if you would wait until the others get here so that you're not wandering out alone." Mr. Weasley handed Harry the map. Being used to looking over the Marauder's map, finding the name Isabella Zabini was quite easy. Her plot was about half a mile north of the Weasley plot.

"Ok Mr. Weasley, I'll see if Charlie or Bill will go with me." Mr. Weasley nodded, and Harry brought a book out of his bag. There were still a couple hours before the older Weasleys would get there, or the shops would open. Harry's book was on the anatomy of a wolf, and the various magical breeds.

Harry was amazed by how many normal animals had magical counterparts. Wolves had dozens of magical breeds, bears had at least seven, and lions had upwards of seventeen. Few of each species exist, and only in certain areas, making gathering information, or things like fur, very difficult.

Thankfully, Dire Wolves were not very rare. The book said there were no packs in the United Kingdoms, but books also said that there no acromantulas in the Isles.

Harry and Ron knew that to be false, so Harry decided he would ask Hagrid if there were any Dires in the forbidden forest.

The book gave very little information about the wolves, only that some grew to be the size of Clydesdale horses, and they could run for over forty-eight hours without stopping. Harry figured that was the magical burst he gave himself when he tried to transform back the first time, he reenergized his body with his own magic.

Having already read everything about the Dire Wolves before, Harry decided to practice magic.

"Mr. Weasley, would you happen to have a lighter in that bag?"

The balding man looked through his bag once more, before handing Harry an ornate silver lighter. "What do you need it for?" The man's eyes were full of concern.

Catching on to the man's idea quickly, Harry defused the situation. "No, not for a cigarette, I want to try to do Sympathy, and magical fire doesn't work."

The man nodded and pulled out a couple pieces of parchment before handing them to Harry. "These are finished work orders, they need to burn anyway, and they're not sensitive, so this is a good thing." The papers seemed blank except for a blue Ministry sigil at the top. Harry assumed that there was a charm to keep him from seeing any documents.

Harry set one of the pieces of parchment on the ground, and held the other. He flicked the lighter on, and set it underneath the parchement he was holding. He willed the other one to burn as he did so, but it didn't.

Harry tried for a couple of hours to get the documents to burn each other, enough that his resonance shifted once to try to assist. Hermione had even tried to offer a couple of suggestions, but they were ineffective. He was glaring at the parchment on the ground when Bill walked through the tent's flap.

The curse breaker took note of the lighter in Harry's hand, and both pieces of parchment, and recognized what Harry was trying to do.

"Do you have any idea of what process you need Harry?"

Harry was startled by the sudden appearance of the tall redhead. "No, I just know the basics of Sympathy, and I was trying to get the pieces of parchment to burn each other."

Bill walked over and held out his hand for both the parchment and the lighter, which Harry gave over. "Luckily for you, I learned how to do this in fifth year. It requires a suspension of belief, and a held belief at the same time. You must be able to believe that this parchment," Bill waved the one he was holding. "And that parchment," Bill pointed at the one on the ground. "Are the same. You must also believe they are different. Once I understand that this is not that, but at the same time, believe that this is that, then this happens."

Bill put the lighter to the bottom of the parchment, and it lit instantly. As the one in his hand burned, the one on the ground ignited as well. In a few short seconds, both were reduced to ashes.

"Sympathy is one of the most useful tools in my arsenal when I'm dealing with ancient traps."

Charlie had walked in behind Bill, and sat down on the couch next to Harry. "I've never been able to get it. Some people can't split their mind like Bill. It took him months to get the first link, but it's been easy ever since."

Bill shrugged, and spoke. "It's a useful skill, but it's not required for anything. Don't feel bad if you can't do it. I taught Percy, and I think that the twin's unique thought pattern rules out their ability to do it. Considering his skill at chess, I think that Ron could manage it easily."

"It's a rare magic, where did you learn the basics of Sympathy?"

"From my godfather. The sensor that I use is actually a modified gram, a tool to prevent someone from using malfeasance against me. In order to understand the effects the magic can have on me, he burned one of my hairs, and let me feel how dangerous the power could be to my enemies."

Bill's eyebrows rose. "First, what did it feel like? And second, why the hell did your own guardian cast illegal magic on you?"

Harry chuckled. "First, it felt like I was standing in the hot sun, rather than in a cool room with a breeze. Second, because it's possible Draco Malfoy might use it on me sometime, and I need to know what it feels like so I can know what I'm dealing with."

Harry was about to ask Charlie if he would walk with him to the Zabinis, but decided that since Blaise was thinking about being a curse breaker, Bill might be a better choice. "Hey, Bill, will you walk with me to my friend's tent plot? Your dad doesn't want me going alone, and my friend wants to know what kind of OWLs and NEWTs you got."

"Sure thing, this friend have a name?"

"I think I want to keep it a surprise." Harry felt he would enjoy seeing the look on Bill's face when confronted by the Black Widow of Italy.

Hermione huffed, and Bill chuckled. "Sure, do we need to bring a map?"

Harry held the map up in his hand. "I've got it."

Bill said goodbye to his family, and walked out with Harry. "You know, you're not at all what I expected. Last year, when everyone came to visit me in Egypt, Ron kept talking about you. He said you were shy and somewhat reclusive. That's not at all how you seem now."

Harry thought for a moment, he hadn't really noticed a change in his own demeanor. "Yeah, I guess so. Over the summer I've lived with my father's two best friends. I've learned a lot about my parents and who they were. I now know what they represented, and what they would do to meet their goals."

"I've also been a part of a pranking war between two of the Marauders, so it's somewhat hard to embarrass me now."

Bill's eyebrows rose. "The marauders? When I was in school there were still some people who attended with them. They sound crazy."

"They were. Two noble lords, a werewolf, and a pauper pureblood made for an interesting group of people. Especially when you throw in a genius muggleborn and a beautiful Slytherin."

Bill was counting on his fingers. "Ok, so I've got Lords Potter and Black, your defense professor from last year, Remus Lupin, Percy's pet rat, Peter Pettigrew, and Lily Evans. Who was the Slytherin?"

Harry smirked. "We're going to meet her now. I've never met her face to face, but I've heard enough stories that I feel like I know her. Just be warned, she's probably slightly insane, but innocent."

Harry checked the map again, he noticed that they were nearly there. "Please don't say anything stupid. For your own sake, this woman is one of the most intelligent and sarcastic people my uncle has ever met."

Harry walked up to the tent, it seemed to be made of a cream colored silk, and very expensive. Bill whistled and said something about 'Acromantula Silk'. Harry pushed the tent flap open a bit.

"It's Harry! Are you in there?"

A woman's voice floated to them. "Yes, but please wait a bit."

Harry and Bill waited for a moment, Harry took the time to look around. He saw a few people he recognized. There was a white peacock strutting around in front of a tent that had a coat of arms on the side. A large and flamboyant 'M' was painted on the white fabric. It wasn't hard to figure out the Malfoys were in that tent.

"Come on in." Isabella's voice was smooth and beautiful, like a gentle river.

Harry entered, and was dumbstruck by the wealth on display in the tent. Mr. Weasley's words from before drifted back 'When we get together, we like to show off'. The truth was evident in the décor of the tent. Early medieval weaponry was attached to the stone walls, and Persian rugs covered the floor. The single room of the tent Harry was standing in could pay for everything the Weasleys had ever owned.

Bill, having seen all sorts of treasure and rugs, was instead struck dumb by the perfect vision of Aphrodite standing before him. Instead of wearing the usual robes, Isabella wore a beautiful blue blouse, with a deep neckline highlighting her ample breasts. Her waist was thin, and her legs were long. She wore a golden belt around black trousers, and fancy, yet effective boots.

Isabella smiled at Harry. Her brown eyes twinkled warmly. "Sirius said you looked like James, but that is an understatement. If it wasn't for your eyes I would call you a doppleganger."

Harry smiled, "I get that a lot. Thanks for the invitation though Ms. -"

"No! You will call me Isabella, or Isa. I will not be called Ms. Zabini by you. Bella is out too, that was what Sirius called Bellatrix." Isabella smiled at the boy she hoped she would come to see as a nephew.

Bill, having regained at least a part of his senses looked between Isabella and Harry. "You said 'a beautiful Slytherin'. You said 'Intelligent'. You did not fucking say Isabella Zabini!"

Harry shrugged. "Would you say that she is not beautiful? She was a Slytherin, and she is very intelligent. I don't see what your big deal is." Harry smiled now, it was predatory and his eyes were full of mirth.

Bill, having realized he may have insulted one of the most feared women in the wizarding world, back peddled. "I meant no disrespect. Harry here seemed to think it was funny to do that to me."

Isabella smiled again, and shrugged. "It was funny, and it wasn't very disrespectful. And you did not answer his question. Do you think I am beautiful?" Isabella walked towards Bill with a bit more sway to her hips than necessary.

Bill smiled. He was no stranger to dealing with beautiful women. "No."

Isabella looked confused.

Bill spoke with a quiet intensity. "I think that beautiful doesn't even begin to describe you. Gorgeous might come close, but not quite there yet. I really think the only acceptable word might just be," Bill knelt and grasped her hand softly, and he dragged his lips across her knuckles. "Perfect."

Harry had never seen flirting done very well. The guys in Gryffindor were too forward, and if they were effective they were probably alone. Hogsmeade weekends don't really count either, as most people already have dates lined up to go. But Harry knew that Bill was obviously very good at flirting, and that Isabella was impressed.

Blaise had walked out of one of the hallways just before Bill's statement, and he clapped when the eldest Weasley brother was finished. "Very well done. I think that is deserving of at least an eight of ten."

Harry laughed at Blaise's statement, and Bill bowed. Isabella raised a perfectly manicured nail to her lips.

"No, you didn't see what I saw, it was perfectly executed. Well done, ten out of ten.

Blaise bowed his head in deference to his mother's judgement, and Bill bowed again, to applause from both Harry and Blaise. "My little brother had a friend in Hogwarts, and she made it her mission to get me to be a good flirt. She said, and I quote, 'Good looks like yours cannot be wasted. You will flirt with me, and you will gain skill.' At least once a week for the next year, she made me flirt with her. It wasn't hard, she was a metamorphmagus. She just made herself look like a supermodel."

Isabella laughed, to the surprise of her son. "Yes, rarely does a Black not get what they want."

Bill looked confused for a second. "How did you know who I was talking about?"

Isabella cocked her head. "You're not very smart, or just misinformed. I dated Sirius Black, and I was housemates with Andromeda Black. Nymphadora Tonks is the only Metamorphmagus in the world. It's rather easy to figure it out. And I doubt that I am wrong here, but are you William Arthur Weasley?"

Bill was confused again. "Yes, I am, but how did you know that? Italy is pretty far from Britain, and how do you know that Tonks is the only Metamorph?"

"Your reputation precedes you, and the fact that I already knew Harry was attending the game with your family. I know that Tonks is the only one because Sirius told me. Your bravery is admirable, most people would have run out of my tent rather than flirt. They're afraid I will ensnare them in my web, and kill them." Isabella made reference to her famous moniker, Italy's Black Widow.

"In the past few months I have learned that Peter Pettigrew is alive and was my brother's pet rat. I've learned that my brother's favorite defense professor is a werewolf, and that Sirius Black is innocent. Harry said you were innocent as well, and I'm inclined to believe him."

"Besides, I don't think you could possibly have killed all of your husbands. You couldn't have gotten away with it after how the government was watching you after your fifth one died."

"Remarkably well reasoned, good job." Blaise spoke from where he was leaning against the wall.

Bill shrugged. "Critical thinking is, pardon the pun, a critical portion of my job. I just don't let it get locked into only doing my job."

Blaise started asking about being a curse breaker, and Isabella pulled Harry off to the side of the room. "Have you made any progress on your animagus?"

"I finished it yesterday. Ron made me angry enough that the instincts broke through."

Isabella's eyes lit up. "Can I see it?"

"I have no problem with it if we can get away from Bill."

Isabella walked over to Blaise and Bill and said something that Harry couldn't hear. The two soon left the tent.

"I told them that we needed some water. The pump is about one hundred meters away, and has a line, so they'll be gone for a while."

Harry nodded and stood in the center of the room, for the second time that day he willed himself to change. Quickly, Harry Potter disappeared, and a giant black wolf stood in his place. Harry's shoulders were a bit above Isabella's head.

Isabella's eyebrows rose, but only slightly. "Sirius said that you might go straight into a magical creature. When he and James made the transformation they used an ordianary inscriber, when you did it you used the wellspring, correct?"

Harry nodded, it was a strange sight. Isabella ran her hands along both of Harry's sides. She gently held his tail, and felt his muscles.

"I've never seen a Dire Wolf, and if I had I doubt it would have been so well behaved. This is remarkable. Your fur is so soft. I expected it to be coarse."

Isabella spent some more time looking at him, and measuring everything before she told him to change back. This time there wasn't as much to listen to or smell, the pocket dimension of the tent was rather plain in those regards, so Harry wasn't as shocked by the lack of stimuli. When Isa finished with him, he shifted back to human.

"You are five foot eleven inches tall at the shoulder, and your head easily clears six eight if you raise it. Your teeth are five inches long at the longest, and you have a pale patch of fur just above your right eye, the same spot as your scar." Isabella wrote everything down on a piece of parchment.

"Would you be willing to let have a copy of your personal Sigil? Everything here will be used by myself, Sirius and Remus to come up with your nickname." Isabella smirked. "Lily was Tigress, it shouldn't be hard to figure out why."

"I was, and still am according to Sirius, Vixen." She smiled, something she had been doing more frequently since she started talking to Sirius again.

She got up from her chair, and looked at the door before transforming into a red fox. She looked at Harry before transforming back.

Harry smiled and extended his hand. "It's nice to meet you face to face, Vix."

Isa grasped the hand lightly, and did a small curtsey. "It's very nice to see you finally. I was taken from Sirius before you were born."

"Can I ask a personal question? You don't have to answer."

Isa nodded and sat down.

"Did you kill the man who took you from Padfoot?"

Isabella's eyes widened and she looked down at her lap. Her hands were intertwined with each other. "Yes. But not because of that."

"Why then?"

Isabella's eyes had tears pooling in them. "It was three days after Blaise was born. I was still tired, and Damien was supposed to be taking care of him." Isabella hiccupped, and buried her face in her hands. "Blaise had been crying, and I wanted to see what was going wrong. I walked in on Damien holding his wand to Blaise's bum. The tip was burning."

Harry gasped, he knew that child abuse happened, sure. But he never expected it to happen to a three day old baby.

"I snapped. I drew my wand and cast a curse, I didn't even know what it was until the healer told me his organs had been dissolved."

"It took me four months to get out of that house. Damien had put so many enchantments on me and the house that I couldn't break them all. No one was very concerned about not hearing from him. The man was universally hated, and he had a baby to be looking after."

"When I finally got out, the war in Britain was so bad that I couldn't cross the border, the national wards had been erected to keep foreigners out of the country. Damien had stripped me of my British citizen status, so the wards kept me out as well. By the time the wards had fallen, Sirius was in Azkaban, James and Lily were dead, and everyone I knew was gone."

"I stayed in Italy, with my father until I found love again." She shook her head, "No, not love, but as close as I could come."

"Husband after Husband died, and I thought I was cursed for killing Damien."

"I didn't know that someone else had been killing my husbands until one was thrown in Azkaban for the very crime that alerted Sirius to my innocence."

Harry didn't know what to say. Everything he could think of seemed so shallow, so contrite. His curiosity won him over though. "Why were you with Damien to begin with?"

Isabella laughed. It was the most hollow, most cold laugh Harry had ever heard. "He saved my life, and immediately called in a life debt. I was bound to him, fully and completely. The only difference between me and a house elf is that he didn't rape his elves. At least I don't think he did. It's the only thing that kept me with him. I thought that the deaths of my husbands were retribution for killing him, magic works in odd ways" She began to weep openly. Harry supsected that she rarely, if ever, allowed herself to relive that memory.

Harry sat with his arm around her shoulder as Isabella cried. It would have made for an amusing scene had it not been so grievous. The-Boy-Who-Lived, comforting Italy's Black Widow as she cried.