My Sanctuary

The night was quiet, each window dark in the quiet residential neighborhood of Little Winging. Stars twinkled benignly overhead, a quarter moon hanging heavy on the horizon.

Nobody noticed the young man standing vigil over the sleepy street, lanky body framed by the second story window. Whatever danger the boy stood sentinel over, the sleeping neighborhood remained blissfully unaware.

Sixteen year old Harry James Potter whirled from his place at the window, his eyes tired from scanning the star filled skies. A soft footstep brought his eyes to the door, revealing the slim form of a young woman, light brown hair pulled back and held in place with a silver barrette. She carried two mugs in her hands, and wordlessly handed one to Harry as she crossed the room to stand beside him at the window.

Harry sighed softly as he sipped the contents of the mug. Warm tea slid through his system, and he closed his eyes briefly before glancing at his companion again.

“Thanks, Hermione.”

Hermione Granger took up his position, staring up into the sky. “Anything?” She asked tensely.

Harry shook his head. “Not that I can tell.” He checked his watch. “There’s still ten minutes to midnight.” He let out a shaky breath and took another sip of his tea. “Are the Dursleys ready?”

Hermione snorted delicately. “Yes, Harry. They’re not happy though.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Shock.” He replied sardonically. “I’m surprised they haven’t tried to run yet.”

“Your uncle mentioned it.” Hermione replied calmly. “Your aunt talked him out of it…not that she’s any happier by the turn of events.”

Harry closed his eyes. “No.” He replied quietly. “I bet she isn’t.” He cupped the back of his head. “Do nothing…until midnight. We can’t afford to attract any more attention than we already will.”

Hermione sighed impatiently. “I know, Harry.” She replied patiently. “I haven’t forgotten. On the last chime of midnight, the portkey will activate and take them to The Burrow. They should have an escorted floo ride directly to Hogwarts from there.”

Harry nodded. “That’s the safest we can make them.” He agreed quietly. They stared out over the quiet street again. “I wish I could get them ALL to evacuate.” He whispered.

“Harry.” Hermione began, sounding frustrated.

Harry cut her off. “I know, ‘Mione.” He said quietly. “But I can’t help but think that they’re going to take out the fact that I’m missing and that my family is missing too on the rest of the neighborhood.”

Hermione followed his gaze onto the quietly sleeping street, softly illuminated by the glow of silver streetlights. She sighed. “You can’t save everyone, Harry.” She said quietly. “All you can do is try to get the death eaters before they can get those you care about.”

Harry laughed without mirth. “That’s just it, Hermione.” He waved his hand over the window, over the identical driveways with identical cars, the lights twinkling lightly in reflections off of the paint. “I don’t care about any of them. Or…I shouldn’t. Over there is where one of Dudley’s friends live. He used to hold me down while Dudley punched. These people have watched me my whole life. They all think I’m unhinged, the Dursley’s deranged nephew. I have no reason to care about any of them.”

Hermione touched his arm. “And yet you do.” She smiled slightly. “That’s part of what makes you such a good guy.” She jumped as a small alarm began to beep. “One minute. Harry!”

Harry turned. “Get the portkey ready. Make sure that the Dursleys are touching it. Threaten them if they don’t.”

Hermione nodded. “And you?”

Harry hesitated before turning from the window. Part of him wanted to wait for the attack that was sure to come the moment he turned seventeen. The other side of his mind reminded him how foolish that would be. Only an idiot would wait for an enemy he could not kill. “I’m coming.” He said, smiling reassuringly at her.

Hermione nodded and waited for him by the door, their footsteps heavy as they ran down the steps and entered the parlor where three frightened looking muggles were waiting for them. The first, a man, stood with his finger on a vase like he wanted to shove his finger through it. His pudgy face was mottled purple with suppressed rage and he glared at Harry as he entered the room. Vernon Dursley’s wife, Petuna stood beside him, her thin lips pressed together in disapproval. Her pinched face was tight with stress, her skin so pale it was nearly transparent. Their son, Dudley, a seventeen year old boy looking like a beached whale, a black t-shirt hugging his fat frame, blond hair resting like a cap over his head. Beady eyes watched Hermione with fear. All of the Dursleys held a suitcase with their free hand. “All right?” Harry asked, staring at his family.

Vernon opened his mouth to answer, his face turning a deep violet, but Hermione’s voice cut him off as she touched the portkey. “Harry! Now!”

Harry heard the last beep on his watch and lunged forward, touching the vase just in time to feel the hook behind his navel as it picked them up and spiraled them away. Dimly he could hear his aunt screaming, the wind rushing in his ears.

“Harry!” Ron was there to meet them, holding a bag of powder in his hands. “The floo path will close in two minutes. We’ll have to go two by two.” Harry nodded. Ron’s freckles stood out like blemishes in his white face.

Hermione stepped forward and took a handful of powder. “Come on, Dudley. I’ll take you.” Dudley had been eyeing Ron as if he was the devil, his piggy face a mask of terror. Hermione stepped forward and gently touched Dudley’s shoulder. He whimpered and cringed from her touch, and Hermione huffed impatiently as she forced him forward and tossed a handful of powder into the fire. The flames turned green and she dragged him into the fire, ignoring Petunia’s gasp of horror. “Hogwarts!” They vanished, though Harry had been wondering if it would even be possible to squeeze his whale of a cousin through the chimney. Magic still never failed to astound him.

Ron’s face was intense. Harry shoved his uncle forward. “Take Uncle Vernon, Ron.” He ordered. “I’ll follow with Aunt Petunia.”

“You most certainly will not!” Vernon looked as if he might faint from rage, and Harry whipped out his wand, pointing it at his uncle. “You..you…”

Harry glared at his uncle. “Just give me a reason.” He whispered, taking a handful of the powder from Ron’s bag as his friend passed. He wasn’t surprised when Vernon Dursley stepped into the fire, herded by Ron. They vanished with a crack.

Harry turned slightly to his aunt. He had conflicting emotions about Petunia Dursley and it showed on his face. He hadn’t forgotten his miserable childhood beneath her, the years of sleeping on a stained mattress beneath the staircase, the lies about his family, the hatred of Harry himself. Petunia had never given him a moment of love, no warmth. Still…she was his mother’s sister, had given him protection if nothing else, hadn’t allowed her husband to kick Harry out though Harry knew Vernon had wanted badly to do just that.

At one point in his life not even a year ago, Harry would have gladly forced his aunt at wandpoint into the flames just to hear her shriek of terror at the fire. The irony of having to save the Dursleys wouldn’t have been lost on him, and to be truthful, it wasn’t lost even now. He slipped his wand back into the slim sheath strapped to his right arm. Gently he touched his aunt’s back and threw the dust into the flames. They turned green and he firmly propelled her forward. “Aunt Petunia…” He paused just before the flames. “Thank you.” He said quietly before stepping in beside her. “Hogwarts!” There was a soft crack of air and they vanished.

0 0 0

The meetings had been Quatre’s idea, a chance to gather every few months to spend a week in each other’s company. Though Heero constantly complained that he was short on time and patience, he had never missed a single meeting. Eighteen year old Duo Maxwell smirked as he watched his brunet lover pack a bag. “You’re awfully eager.” He teased.

“Hn.” Heero Yuy glanced sideways at Duo before rolling his eyes. “I shouldn’t have let you talk me into this.” He complained calmly. “I had some reports for the Preventers that needed taking care of.”

Duo waved this away. “The Preventers aren’t going anywhere, Hee-chan.” He picked up a backpack and tossed his long brown braid over his shoulder. “It’s been months since we’ve seen Quatre and Trowa.”

Heero glanced over his shoulder. “Go bother Wufei if you have nothing better to do with your time. We don’t leave for fifteen minutes.”

Normally Duo would have ignored this suggestion…he lived for annoying his lover…but there was a tension in Heero that he didn’t like, a coiled strength that had been pulling tighter and tighter with the passing months and now seemed ready to spring. Duo wasn’t sure that if Heero DID explode there wouldn’t be a blood bath. Quietly, he slipped obediently from the room.

The hallway outside was depressingly bare of personal items, neither Heero nor their housemate, Chang Wufei being ones to indulge in knick-knacks for the sole purpose of decoration. Both former Gundam pilots believed wholeheartedly in practicality, as well as the need to hide identity from their home. Photographs were kept in books, or they were ripped from the walls. Security would not be breached.

Their Chinese housemate stood in the kitchen, a mug of green tea in his hands as he leaned slightly against the counter, eyes closed. Duo smiled at Wufei’s form, though he knew that his friend couldn’t see him. “Morning, Wuffers.”

“Maxwell.” Wufei’s voice was an icy wind, and his eyes, as they opened and pinned Duo in place, were onyx. “I detest that stupid name.”

Duo smirked. “I know.” He replied cheerfully. “But if given a choice between bothering you and bothering Hee-chan, I’m going to choose you. Heero looks like he wants to kill.”

Wufei frowned at Duo over his tea. “When do I NOT want to kill you, Maxwell?”

Duo inclined his head. “Good point.” He replied cheerfully. “But you see, that’s the problem. I’ve gotten used to death threats from you, Wuffers.”

Wufei’s frown deepened. “The transport should be here shortly.”

Duo nodded and let the bantering drop. There was no point in pushing either of his grumpy housemates, their boiling points were higher than usual as weeks had gone by without a single assignment for either of them. Both Heero and Wufei disliked idleness, they viewed it as worthlessness.

He hummed to himself as he walked down the stairs to their small house and entered the five car garage attached. This was Duo’s sanctuary, his private sanctum, and his assurance that he would always have enough work to keep himself from going crazy. An idle and bored Duo was a dangerous thing. He breathed in the scent of oil and the slight metallic tang from the many vehicles that came in and out during the weeks. “Excuse me…”

“Closed.” Duo replied automatically, putting a wrench away. “I’ll be back in a week.” He tossed a grease rag into a bin. The person cleared his throat and Duo whirled, his eyes lighting up as he caught sight of the short blond teen standing in the sunlight just outside of the entrance to the garage. The teen’s blue eyes were as warm as his smile and Duo stepped eagerly into the blond’s arms. “Q-Ball!” He cried delightedly.

Quatre Raberba Winner laughed, but his hug was as fierce as Duo’s. “It’s good to see you too, Duo.” He said warmly. “How have you been?”

Duo pulled away and grinned. “Busy. The garage keeps me from going crazy.” He glanced at the house, spotting Wufei greeting a stoic Trowa through the door. “Can’t say the same thing about Wu-man and Hee-chan though. One more day goes by without them being busy and they’re going to combust.”

Quatre’s eyes filled with concern, then understanding. “It’s hard…” He said quietly. “…when you’re used to saving the world, what do you do when it’s already saved?”

Duo shrugged and beamed at Trowa Barton as the European pilot entered the garage. “Tro-wa!” He declared cheerfully.

Trowa nodded slightly to him. “Duo.” He replied stoically, expression as serene as his moss green eyes. He stepped behind Quatre, barely touching. Duo smiled as he saw Quatre unconsciously leaning back against the tall teen. “It’s different for the three of us.” Trowa said quietly, making it clear that he had heard at least part of the conversation. “We had lives outside of the war. Duo, you have your mechanics, Quatre his father’s business and I have the circus and Catherine. Heero and Wufei…they have nothing except the next battle. They don’t know what to do with themselves when the fighting is done.”

Duo cupped the back of his head. “Heero does have something.” He wished he didn’t sound so defensive.

His words were instantly recognized and analyzed by his companions. Quatre was the first to answer. “Which is probably the only reason he hasn’t tried to self destruct.” He agreed quietly. “Wufei’s inability to relax and desire to move onto the next battle isn’t helping Heero.”

Duo sighed and stretched his arms over his head. “Maybe this vacation will mellow them out a little. Neither would admit it out loud…” He grinned. “…but they miss you guys.”

Quatre’s face softened and Trowa inclined his head slightly as companionable silence fell between the trio.

0 0 0

Harry wanted to scream as he listened to the members of the Order of the Phoenix argue. He could feel the impatience rising within him, and had to bite his lip so hard that it bled to keep from saying something that would upset everyone. “I don’t like it!” Alastor Moody was saying, his face wooden but intense. “Bringing in muggles and children, doesn’t seem like a good idea. None of them can defend themselves when the battle comes.”

“Hogwarts will ALWAYS be open to those who need sanctuary!” Minerva McGonnagall looked stubborn, her eyes flashing. “That’s the way Dumbledore always ran this place, and that’s the way I intend on running it now!”

More arguments, more voices raised as they tried to outdo each other, each insisting on having their say. A fierce ache began to build behind Harry’s eyes. Without a word, he got up from the long table in the main hall and walked out. He wasn’t surprised to hear footsteps hurriedly catch up to him, but let out a long sigh, just wondering who it was trying to placate him. “I can’t stand to listen to it anymore. It was my decision to move my family, they needed to get away from Little Winging.”

“Harry, nobody’s questioning your judgment.” Harry turned, surprised, at the sound of his godfather’s voice. Remus Lupin looked a little worse for wear as the full moon had come and gone a few days prior, but otherwise appeared calm. “But you have to admit…if something happens, they’re in a lot of trouble.”

Harry sighed and nodded. He knew it. The Dursleys were basically useless in the best of circumstances. He stared at his godfather for a long moment before stepping into the man’s arms. Their embrace was fierce, Harry burying his face into the man’s chest. “Remus.” They clung together, both taking comfort out of the other. He released a long breath, shaky with nerves.

“When do you leave, Harry?” Remus asked quietly.

Harry laughed shortly. Remus was one of the few people who knew about the prophesy and what it contained, one of the few who knew about Voldemort’s horcruxes and Harry’s quest to destroy them. “As soon as I can get away without Ron and Hermione noticing and coming after me.”

Remus sighed. “I still don’t like that you’re going out there alone to do this, Harry. Why can’t you allow Ron and Hermione to go with you?”

Harry rolled his eyes, tired of debating this point. “Because they’re too public.” He explained. “Any death eater knows who they are. If they go out with me they’ll be in danger just by association because EVERYONE knows who they are. Their pictures have been in the Daily Prophet, their names are known. I can’t take ANY wizard with me. The only thing Voldemort might not expect is if I take a mug…”

Harry broke off, stunned, as the thought ran through his head and electrified his body. “Is if I take…a muggle.” He whispered.

“Muggle?” Remus frowned. “Harry, what are you talking about?”

“A muggle!” Harry nearly crowed, excited. “Voldemort,” He ignored his godfather’s instinctive cringe at the name. “doesn’t believe that muggles are worth anything. He wouldn’t expect me to bring along a muggle, because he wouldn’t take a muggle seriously! A muggle could be standing there waving a GUN in his face and he would only laugh until it blew his brains out!”

Normally such morbid conversation, even with his determination to kill Voldemort would put Harry into a bad mood. More than anything he just wanted to find peace and live quietly, and it was hard to do that when he was debating the death of someone. This time he felt a chill of undeniable truth. “And I’d have the protection you’d want…” He coaxed, seeing from Remus’ expression that the man wasn’t as convinced of the plan as Harry was.

Remus released a long breath. “You would have to find the right muggle, Harry. Someone who knows how to fight but who isn’t going to be overwhelmed with the war. Why would you think that any muggle would want to get involved?! Muggles don’t GET involved in our world! It’s why they’re separate!”

Harry studied his godfather. “The muggles ARE affected.” He said quietly. “They’re going to be killed for no reason that an autopsy is going to bring up. People are going to disappear. Whole neighborhoods, in order to fish out the wizard living quietly there, are going to be destroyed.” He set his jaw. “World War II, Vietnam, the slaughter of THOUSANDS of muggles! ALL of that could have been avoided at least a little…with the help of wizards.”

Harry held up his hand, seeing Remus’ arguments already voiced by his eyes. Muggles who knew there was magic were apt to take advantage of it. They expected magical answers to everything. Harry sighed. “The point being…that Voldemort threatens more than just us. If they want to live in this world…they’re going to have to fight for it.”

0 0 0

“I have to admit, Q-ball…” Beside Wufei, Duo whistled appreciatively. “…you really know how to pull out all the stops.”

Wufei could concur, though usually found Quatre’s residences to be unnecessarily opulent and this was no exception. The mansion that faced them was cradled between a grassy hill and a gentle wood. It practically glowed in the sunlight as Quatre pulled up the long driveway. Dimly Wufei could make out the set of trampolines, the glistening waters of a pool nearby. Another sparkle of water caught Wufei’s attention as they neared the house, and he saw what was either a small lake or a large pond near a clearing in the woods, a dock built out over the water. There was something there for all of them, the promise of relaxation and companionship. Wufei felt his heart lift.

“Lots of space to break in.” Duo teased, leaning over to whisper in Heero’s ear. The braided pilot was hardly quiet enough, and Wufei had to fight to keep down his own blush at the implications of those words. A slight smile crossed Heero’s face for a moment, his blue eyes softening as he picked up the end of Duo’s braid, twisting the chestnut hair around his fingers before pulling it lightly and allowing it to fall down across Duo’s back…the height of affection within the presence of others.

Duo glowed however, his eyes sparkling amethyst. Wufei felt his bad mood fall upon him again. It wasn’t that he wished his fellow pilots had not found each other…in fact he was grateful that they had…they deserved a little happiness after the war…but two years had gone by, and Wufei had not come any closer to finding his own peace.

He loved his job, enjoyed working with the Preventers to maintain the worldwide peace they had all fought so hard to obtain. He enjoyed working with Heero and occasionally even working with Duo when the braided pilot’s mechanical expertise was called upon. Often Duo annoyed him to within his breaking point, but he still adored the braided pilot…even if he would never admit it to himself, let alone out loud.

Still…living in close quarters with Duo and Heero had given him a taste of something that he was still lacking in his life, a lesson that was reinforced each time he saw Quatre and Trowa. The gentle blond and his tall counterpart were subtle about their relationship, but Wufei had seen the warmth in their eyes, the way that if Trowa stood behind Quatre, even when they were not touching, Quatre leaned into the presence. Heero was subtle as well, his face softening when he looked at Duo, the way he grumblingly went along with whatever idiotic idea Duo had, unable to say “no” and deny his lover anything within reason.

Duo was another story entirely. He flaunted his relationship, exuded happiness and didn’t hesitate to show the rest of the world that he was pleased with his lot in life. More often than not someone could find the braided pilot in his lover’s lap. Duo couldn’t walk into the same room as the Japanese pilot without touching him, his eyes bright with delight even as a cocky smile lit up his face. It made Wufei want to punch him and it made him feel hollow inside. Perhaps his chance in happiness had died with Meiran.

Wufei sighed. He needed a new challenge, a new goal to accomplish that would get his mind off of what he couldn’t change…and he needed to do it fast if the look on Quatre’s face was any indication. He saw the blond shoot him glances in the rearview mirror and frowned. “What?”

Quatre blinked and looked back at the driveway. “Are you all right?” He asked quietly and Wufei wanted to curse as he was pinned by three gazes, one blue, one an odd mix of blue and violet and one moss green.

“I’m fine.” Wufei forced himself to say, watching Quatre’s face intently. The slight frown lines near the boy’s mouth deepened and Wufei swore under his breath, crossing his arms moodily over his chest. He knew he would have hell to pay when Quatre managed to pin him down.

Duo turned in his seat. “You sure you’re okay, Wuffers?”

Wufei scowled. “I told you not to call me that.” He replied, sighing inwardly.

Duo laughed. “Yeah but that’s not what’s bothering you. Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out and come up with something to fix it.”

Wufei inwardly groaned, images of Duo and Quatre setting him up on blind dates racing through his mind. He would rather die.

0 0 0

Harry lounged in the Gryffindor common room, his feet up on one of the tables as he paged through a book on healing magic that was dog-eared from constant use. The fire lent warmth to his face and he basked in the waves that washed over him, sighing in satisfaction. On a night like this, with Ron and his twin brothers, Fred and George in the corner playing Exploding Snap, Hermione bent over a book, a steaming cauldron in front of her, Neville Longbottom in avid conversation with Ron’s sister Ginny, Harry almost felt as if life was normal. He could almost pretend that this was a normal evening during the school year, that the only real problems he had to think about was the quidditch game sometime that week. He wanted to laugh at his own thoughts. His life had never been that simple.

“Harry!” Harry looked up sharply as Ron called his name and saw immediately what had caught his friend’s attention. A white owl flew just outside of the window where Ron’s brother Charlie sat with his boyfriend Oliver Wood, talking with Ron’s eldest brother, Bill and his fiancée, Fleur Delacour.

Bill opened the window nad Harry’s snowy owl, Hedwig flew into the room, landing lightly on the table by Harry’s feet. She held out her right leg to him, nipping his fingers affectionately when he stroked her feathers before reading the attached letter.

“Harry

I found a way to help you locate the muggles you’re looking for. Pack your belongings and meet me in my office.

Moony”

Harry stared at the letter for a long moment before stroking Hedwig again. “Go on back up to the owlry.” He whispered. “Thanks.”

Hedwig nipped his finger again before flying back out of the window. “What was all that about, Harry?” Ron asked, looking up.

Harry hesitated. Neither Ron nor Hermione were going to like his plan, and they DEFFINITELY weren’t going to like that Harry didn’t want them to come with him. Still…he eyed the potion Hermione was making. “What’s that?”

Hermione stirred counterclockwise three times before stirring it clockwise four. The potion turned a shade of pink that reminded Harry unpleasantly of Pepto-Bismol. “It cures acid indigestion.”

Harry snorted in spite of himself. It even did the same job as Pepto-Bismol. “Is it supposed to be that color pink?”

Hermione threw him a look that clearly stated that she was not amused. “Yes.” She replied testily. “Would you like to test it out?”

Harry backed up and held out his hands. “Sorry, ‘Mione.” He apologized instantly. “It just looks like that stuff the Durleys pour down Dudley’s throat whenever he’s had too much to eat.” Which was why they practically owned stock in the Pepto-Bismol empire.

Hermione’s lips twitched. “What was the owl about?” She asked curiously.

Harry shrugged. “It’s from Remus. He wants to have tea. I think he’s feeling rather lonely since Tonks left for her reconnaissance mission last week.”

Hermione looked amused. “Now Harry.” She admonished. “You know there’s nothing going on between Lupin and Tonks.”

Harry grinned. “Sure I do. The same way I know there’s nothing going on between you and Ron!”

Hermione’s mouth fell open and Ron turned a motley shade of red as Fred, George, Ginny, Neville, Oliver, Charlie, Bill and Fleur all burst into laughter. Harry slipped upstairs. That really settled things; neither Ron nor Hermione would be in any hurry to find him for a while. He glanced around and let out a long sigh. He would miss this room with his four poster bed. Harry waved his wand, shrinking down the packed trunk at the foot of his bed. He hadn’t bothered to unpack much in the last few weeks, knowing that he wasn’t going to be staying for long. Slipping the tiny trunk into the pocket of his jeans, he grabbed his favorite cloak and slipped from the room.

The common room was in an uproar. “I don’t think of Hermione like that!” Ron was hotly denying, and didn’t miss the look of dismay that crossed Hermione’s face. “Er…that is…not to say I wouldn’t, or that I haven’t…” Realizing he was digging himself in deeper, Ron looked silly, his face purple with humiliation. As his gaze fixed on Harry, he also looked livid.

“See you.” Harry called out, fleeing for his life.

He arrived in the hospital wing winded, gasping for breath, surprised not to hear Ron or Hermione following him with homicidal intentions. The school nurse, Madame Pomfrey looked up sharply. “Potter?! What’s wrong?”

Harry immediately felt bad for worrying her. “Nothing. Er…well…” He paused. “I’m leaving tonight.”

The nurse instantly frowned. “Leaving? Where?”

Harry hesitated. “Not sure yet.” He admitted. “There are some things I need to do before the final battle begins…but I need some provisions before I go.”

Madame Pomfrey narrowed her eyes on him in a way that Harry was very familiar with. The school nurse had seen it all, from broken bones fresh off the quidditch pitch to spells gone awry to illegal spells gone awry. She usually knew what the truth behind the injury was, but she kept her peace and the students trusted her. “What kind of provisions, Potter?”

Harry hesitated. “As many healing potions as you can spare. For all sorts of injuries. Just…” He paused. “…well…just in case, you know?”

He stared his old school nurse down. Would she try to call McGonnagall? She stared at him for a long moment before nodding. “Very well, Potter. Do you have somewhere to put them all?”

Harry nodded and drew out his trunk, watching it grow back to its natural size. He dug around until he located another tiny trunk, engorging that as well. He was far more careful with the contents of this latter trunk as it contained his most precious possessions. He carefully moved aside a book filled with pictures, a small vial of phoenix tears he had collected from Fawkes the year before, his broomstick miniaturized to fit, his broomstick repair kit and his father’s invisibility cloak. Slowly, carefully, he withdrew a rolled piece of cloth that unfurled to show spaces for many small jars.

Madame Pomfrey took a look at his potions holder and nodded her approval. “Good quality, Potter.” She crossed the room to a cabinet. The bottles that came his way left Harry dizzy. Skele-Gro, blood replenishing potion, headache cures, bruise balm, burn salve, frostbite salve, cures for coughs, colds, the flu, and a bottle of the pink indigestion potion Hermione was making. Into his store went a bottle of mandrake essence, dragon’s blood, another tiny bottle of phoenix tears, a vial of polyjuice potion and a small bottle of the truth potion veritaserum. Harry blinked up at her and she pursed her lips. “You may need it.” She said quietly and rolled the fabric back up, handing it to him. Reverently Harry folded it into his invisibility cloak and shrank the trunk back down.

“Potter.” Harry looked up as he slipped both trunks into his pocket. Madame Pomfrey was studying him. “I don’t offer this to many people, because then the whole world would be here running around demanding to know if I can fix it…” She reached for him and Harry allowed her to grab his wrist and haul her forward and toward her potions store.

The bottle she held out to him was clear and contained a clear liquid. “Liquid luck.” She whispered. “I hope you won’t need it, Potter.”

Harry hoped so too, but he pocketed the vial and put his arms around her in an impulsive hug. “Thank you.” He whispered, meaning it not only for the potions but for every ailment she had cured him of in his past, for every time she had fussed over him. Releasing her, he left the hospital wing and hurried upstairs and into the Defense Against The Dark Arts classroom where Remus Lupin had again set himself up.

“Harry.” Remus looked up, his face tense. “Did you get everything you needed?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah.” He looked at his godfather. “What’s the plan?”

Remus held out a ring. Harry stared stupidly at the ring until Remus sighed in exasperation and pressed into Harry’s hand. “It belonged to your father.” Remus said quietly. “Sirius left it for you should something happen to him.” Harry took the ring and stared at it for a long moment. Engraved in the gold was the name “Potter” in fancy script. Harry drew in a deep breath and Remus clasped his hand lightly. “It’s also a portkey.”

Harry looked up sharply. “A portkey?”

Remus nodded. “It was something your dad and Sirius came up with, a variation off of the “random” portkey, a portkey with no set destination that is mainly used for escape. This portkey spell can be infused with properties pertaining to that which you’re looking for.” Seeing Harry’s blank look, Remus laughed and took the ring back setting it on the desk before him. “Meaning that you change the spell slightly to tell it what you’d like to find. In your case muggles.”

Harry nodded. “Muggles who can fight. Muggles who…who understand war but who are open to new ideas. Muggles who aren’t going to reject magic but who aren’t going to take advantage of it either.”

Lupin nodded as he created the spell. “That should be everything. Now you’re set to come back in two days, Harry. With or without your guests. I’m not sure where this is going to send you, so be on your guard. If it looks bad, come right back.”

Harry nodded and hugged his godfather hard. “I won’t fail.” He whispered.

Lupin smiled. “I know that, Harry.” He returned the fierce hug. “Be careful.”

Harry nodded and his hand closed around the ring again. “Ready.”

“Ten seconds.” Remus’ face was a mask of anxiety as he looked at Harry. “Be careful!” He warned again, and Harry smiled confidently in reply before he felt the hook and was whisked away into oblivion.

He caught sight of the ground spiraling, of a body of water. Harry had taken portkeys so often in the past that it seemed second nature now to twist his body in a way that would ensure he landed on his feet. This portkey jump however, hit him hard, tore at his body and left him plummeting down twenty feet into blue water.