Finally.

Disclaimer: I Dis-claim Harry Potter, not that I claimed it to begin with but there you go.

Chapter Four: Keeping a Promise

Harry laughed as the wind whipped through his hair. He was free he was weightless, he had finally did it. After four years of speaking with the wind of tireless practicing finally, he could take flight! One day he was playing when Snag, whom he hadn't given much attention lately, fulfilled his namesake and snatched up his pipes with his tail. Harry reached for them as Snag scurried off and it was only after he lost sight of the little devil did he realize that the music was still sounding.

He could feel it. His magic, his very own magic was singing with the wind! In that moment it was like the gale was a part of him. Not just an old friend, but a brother something that was always and would always be there. He tentatively threw a hand forward and to his amazement the tune changed and the wind sang in concert with him. It trusted him, it felt the connection too and it took his lead.

A gust burst forth sweeping under his arm and surging outward buffeting the leaves upon the bushes that surrounded the forest clearing he was in. He smiled, all his work had born fruit. From the start he knew he had a special connection to the wind and now the wind had finally deemed him worth to not just ask, but lead it. He realized quickly that he had limits and could not call forth the deeper more furious powers of the wind without his pipes. At this point the notes where just to complex for his magic to produce on its own.

It was that same day that he attempted to fulfill the dream he had the day he began his globe trotting travels. He started small just using the wind to rise a foot above ground. He could hear the music a soft melodious tune light and happy. Feeling more confident he concentrated allowing it to lift him higher and higher. The music swelled into a triumphant song, powerful and full of joy.

The wind surged from his hands and feet as he ascended. He had broke above the tree's long ago, still caught up in the joy of flight when he stopped accelerating. He looked out seeing the checkerboard of color that was the Irish countryside. He smiled and began to concentrate once more the music had dimmed back to the soft tune as he floated in the air. Giving into instinct he leaned forward his feeling the wind leave his hands and begin to push down from every part of him facing the ground.

"Well," He told Snag who had taken up a spot in his from pocket. "hold on tight and here goes nothing."

He willed his magic to sing and another gust surged from his hands and feet. It was jerky at first, but then he found his stride and he rushed through the air shouting and whooping all the way. He learned to control his movement by changing the direction his arms were facing. In the end he found he loved being in the sky and as his magic sang alongside the wind he felt more at home than ever in his life. He eventually came down and began to pack up his camp. Then he began to play hoping that the wind carried him someplace he could have a good fly.

In another part of the world dread was wracking the old bones of one Albus Dumbledore. When he learned that the Tri-Wizard would take place this year he was somewhat apprehensive. It was a dangerous tournament after all. However it seemed Fudge wanted to take peoples mind off of his failure to capture the notorious murder Sirius Black. He organized the Quidditch World Cup, and then the Tri-Wizard to distract from his apparent ineptitude.

Dumbledore had no choice but to host the tournament at Hogwarts, at this point he could only hope to make the tasks as safe as possible for all involved. Things were going well until the night that the Champions were chosen. Cedric Diggory was a natural choice for Hogwarts Champion, a very bright Wizard. Fleur Delacour was chosen for Beauxbatons, the quater-veela would be an interesting contestant to watch. Victor Krum was then made the Champion for Durmstrang, a famous professional Quidditch player and from what he understood a capable duelist.

Then it happened, one last name shot from the flames and floated lazily to his hand. He read the name in a whisper, astounded by what he was reading. How could this have happened? He recognized the writing it was from the note that Minerva had brought back from her search. She had been given it by a kindly tavern owner named Mac. It was the only bit of solid information they had on Harry Potter. She had held on to it, as a reminder and he was sure she still spent a few weeks of her summer searching for more leads. It seems someone broke into her office and used the boys signature to enter him into the tournament.

The first task had begun just and hour before and already it was time. The Champions were to face a live dragon and retrieve a golden egg that was in its care. Each would face a different dragon chosen by lottery. Cedric had bested his Swedish Short-Snout though some clever transfiguration though he sustains some injury. Fleur had charmed her Common Welsh Green to sleep. While Victor blinded his Chinese Fireball snatching his egg from beneath its stumbling legs. Dumbledore had drawn in Harry's stead, pulling the Hungarian Horntail, the most vicious of the lot.

The crowd watched as they brought the Horntail out into the arena. Dumbledore was sure this was all just a formality, giving the boy time to show up, to save himself. He was fully prepared to scour the muggle papers for news of a young boy struck with a strange illness. He was sure that on this day, Harry Potter would be subject the pain that came with breaching a magical contract. He watched with growing dread as the cannon fired and the task was set to begin.

There was silence as the dragon snorted a gout of flame down in the arena. After a time he stood holding his wand to his throat.

"As the last champion has not appeared to face the task," He began. "I am sad to say he will be dis-"

Even over the sound of his Sonorus spell you could hear it, a sound that cause a hush to fall over the entire crowd. Out of all those in attendance it was a familiar tune to only three. Dumbledore listened astounded as the music grew in volume and a heavy wind kicked up blowing outward from the center of the arena. The Horntail growled hunching up over its eggs.

The wind picked up and a visible twister of dust formed in the center of the arena. Then a person appeared as the wind died and the dust storm fell to reveal him. He was clad in a worn brown leather jacket, and simple brown pants. Hiking boots sat at his feet and peeking out from under his jacket was the bone handle of his knife. Next to that was a silk bag that hung on his waist. In his hands were a set of reed pipes that he had just taken from his lips. When he appeared his eyes were closed as he was enjoying the music and the feeling of being carried by the wind.

When he finally took in his surroundings he entered a state of controlled panic.

"A dragon," He muttered. "a real live fire breathing dragon! Where in the hell am I?"

The crowd was astounded and rightly so, all forms of magical transport were negated on Hogwarts grounds. Yet, this person just shows up in the middle of the arena as if it were nothing. Harry had by this point backed himself against the wall farthest from the beast his hand gripping the handle of his knife.

"Harry!" Came a loud aged voice that sounded as if coming everywhere at once.

"Is that you god? There's a dragon here." Harry joked shakily to himself.

For the first time he took his eyes off the dragon to take in the rest of his surroundings. He was on the ground floor of what looked to be an arena of some kind. The walls were two stories high and there were quite a few people in the stands, all of them were quiet which was odd. His eyes caught an elderly wizard with a wand to held to his neck.

"Harry," It was the old man speaking. "you must retrieve the golden egg from the dragons nest!"

"Egg?" Harry questioned as the Horntail fixed him in its gaze sizing him up. "You want me to take an egg from a dragon mother? Are you mad!"

Dumbledore chuckled despite the tense situation.

"I am afraid that is the only option," He began." rest assured that I will inform you of all the details later but should you refuse to attempt the task you will be breaching a magical contract."

Harry was livid, he stood from the wall pointing finger at Dumbledore.

"I haven't signed any contract!" Harry yelled.

"It was done for you by persons unknown," Dumbledore informed him. "using a signature that you left to a man named Mac in Ottery St. Catchpole. Are you familiar with the Tri-Wizard Tournament?"

Harry cursed under his breath, he had read of the Tri-Wizard Tournament when he visited Egypt. The Library of Alexandria was the most complete in the world, witch books both mundane and magical lining its aged walls. The Goblet of Fire constituted a binding magical contract. All it required was a signature written by the contestants own hand. He had never thought that anyone would use his signature in such a way, especially since the tournament was no longer held.

"Alright," Harry spoke to himself." I just have to get the egg."

Harry gulped taking in the intimidating visage of the Hungarian Horntail. It's black scales seemed to suck the very light from the sun in deep contrast with the gleaming bronze horns that formed a crown on its head. It's yellow eyes with their vertical pupils were fixed on Harry.

"Get an egg from a nesting dragon..."

The beast roared, a yowling, screeching scream, as it fired a pillar of flame into the sky.

"This is suicide!"

Harry dashed behind a stone that was jutting from the arena floor. With his back pressed tightly to the stone he began to formulate a plan. A dragon was bad enough, but a nesting mother defending her eggs? This was worse than bad, in his opinion this tournament should have stayed in the history books were bloodsport belonged.

Harry took a deep calming breath before stepping out from behind the boulder. The Horntail saw him and with a roar released a breath of flame at him. The crowed gasped, would this be the day The-Boy-Who-Lived died? They watched in slow motion as the flame burst forth to engulf him, but as the flame left the beast maw Harry was already in motion.

Touching the wind, his magic sang and he spread his arms wide in front of him. The fire so bright and deadly seemed to just die out as it came within five feet of him. The heat was blistering but it was better than being burned alive.

"Harry Potter!" Came a new much younger voice, though just as loud as the aged mans. "I have never seen anything like it, after making a grand last minuet appearance he quells dragon fire without the use of a wand simply astounding!"

"Oh yes," Harry laughs. "at least if the dragon eats me it will be well documented!"

He brought his pipes to his lips and began to play in the deep pounding rhythm of the earth.

"Harry," Spoke the voice. "this is hardly the time for music-my word!"

The ground beneath the dragon began to soften and the large creatures forelegs began to sink. It struggled for a moment before pushing off with its powerful back legs and releasing itself. However this action did displace it leaving its eggs out in the open. Harry once more put down his pipes and willed his magic to sing with the wind. A sweet feather light tune began to permeate the air as Harry took towards the dragon at a run drawing cries of surprise and horror from the crowd.

"I have never seen anything like it-" The commentator spoke but Harry ignored him.

Harry locked eyes with the beast, green meeting yellow. The beast reared back, a blaze building in its throat. Harry's eyes narrowed as he closed on the dragon and it lunged forward fire burning from its maw. Harry leapt high and above the beast, flames licking his heels, he landed softly beside the small clutch of eggs. The wind catching him as he quickly took the golden one and made for what looked to be an opening in the side of the arena.

He left the people in the stands cheering wildly and came upon what looked like a medical field tent. He lazily tossed his egg to the side, not even watching as it rolled away. There was one boy laying on a cot his face badly burned as a med-witch fussed over him. There was stern looking guy sitting in a chair off to the side, he was making a show of being uninterested in Harry.

"I knew you would come!" Came a exited female voice.

Harry found himself hugged tightly with a pair of warm lips pressed to his cheek.

"I did not get the chance to thank you for what you did." The young woman said.

She pulled away and Harry was able to get a look at her. She was quite gorgeous with silvery blond hair and her dark blue eyes. Her figure was nothing to sneeze at either. However, it was the eyes and the accent that gave it away.

"Fleur?" He questioned.

"You remembered," She smiled. "I knew you would turn up, I was positive after that night that you were Harry Potter!"

"Well you were right I suppose." Harry laughed.

"Yes indeed," Came a familiar aged voice." I must say I was beginning to worry that you would not show."

"Well, it wasn't by choice mister-" Harry began.

A old man had entered the room where robes of an outlandish sky blue. He had a long white beard, and hair to match.

"Dumbledore, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore." The man replied.

"I've heard of you," Harry stated." your name is entirely to long not to mention your many titles. I'm gonna call you Al, you don't mind do you?"

"Not at all." The old man laughed eyes shining with amusement.

"Okay then Al," Harry began again." I had no idea where I was going to end up, never do. I just go where the wind takes me, it's never steered me wrong."

At this he brought a hand to his chin looking pensive.

"Though, the center of the arena isn't the first place I would have chosen."

"It is quite fortunate that you did though," Dumbledore told him choosing to disregard his strange appearance, it could be dealt with later. "had you appeared anywhere else you would have been to late and deemed disqualified. I don't think I need to tell you how bad that could have been."

Harry nodded, reaffirming his trust in the wind.

"Once again, it's never steered me wrong." Harry frowned. "I am going to have to be a part of this tournament aren't I?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"I tried time and again to get you out of it Harry, you could not have been informed and it was cruel to expect you to appear on your own."

"But there are those that think you knew where I was, aren't there?" Harry asked.

"Yes, I am not sure who entered you into the tournament it could have been any number of people for any number of reasons."

Harry sighed.

"I guess it's for the best, I had been meaning to come here one of these days. Granted I wasn't expecting to come this soon, a promise is a promise."

"We can discuss things further in my office if you would like." Dumbledore offered.

"That'd be fine with me Al." Harry nodded. "I'll catch up with you later Fleur!"

Fleur nodded with a small smile as Harry followed Al to exit of the tent. It was when the tent flap was tossed open that all flashbulb spamming hell broke loose. There was a cacophony of voices, flashes of light and all manner of questions came it quick succession.

"Where have you been all these years Mister Potter?"

"Is it true you have been training under Albus Dumbledore?"

"What can you tell us about the various witches that have come forward claiming to be carrying your child?"

Harry nearly fell over laughing at a few of the questions asked as they made their way into the castle. Maybe he would give an interview later, who knows it could be fun. After wading through a sea of admirers and press they had finally reached the castle. It was just as impressive as the books had said. Its towers standing tall against the sky, its ramparts quite well maintained for such an old castle. Harry stepped through the large wooden doors into the entry hall and was struck silent.

The building was literally humming with magic. It was a powerful echoing hum the shook his very core with its powerful tune. It was unlike anything he had ever heard before. As the headmaster watched in confusion Harry rushed to the nearest stone wall pressing into it. One ear heavily to the tone and palms flat beside his head. What a wonderful sound. The very spirit of learning gave sentience over years of devotion to the ideals that this very castle was built upon. What wonderful magic.

"Al, you have a wonderful school she sings so beautifully." Harry muttered, looking over his shoulder at the headmaster.

"Sings?" Albus questioned. "I don't believe I had ever heard it said the school sings, the hat sings of course, but the school?"

Harry nodded, it wasn't something normal magical could feel on their own. He would explain to the man in detail later but for now it was best to show him. Harry beckoned him over with a single hand keeping an ear to the wall. When he approached Harry motioned for him to copy his own position.

"You have to open yourselves up completely," Harry said. " its hard as you long ago closed yourself off from the world ambient magic."

Albus nodded trusting that there was a point to what Harry was having him do. It was odd, yes, but as the saying goes: nothing ventured, nothing gained. He lowered his occlumency shields and focused on the wall that had the young man so interested. He hardly noticed as Harry hand was laid upon his own, he didn't feel the small surge as Harry's magic flared. However he couldn't help but notice what followed. He couldn't understand how he could not have heard it before. It felt as if it had always been there a part of him. From his adolescence learning within these very halls, to his years of teaching, and then taking his seat as Headmaster.

It was always there just below the stone walls, beating like a great heart, shining like beacon, and warming his heart. He recalled the tune as well, Fawkes his old friend and companion had sang this tune many times. Then just as suddenly as it began it was over.

"Wonderful, isn't it?" Harry asked.

"Yes it is," Albus replied. "and you could hear this Harry?"

"From the moment I entered the doors." Harry responded.

"That is a wonderful gift you have Harry."

"It's no gift Al," Harry told him." I had to practice long and hard to reach this point. After years of learning, I have become an expert listener. Most everything in the world has a song to sing Al."

Albus nodded but instead of questioning further motioned toward the staircases. They would have plenty of time to talk in his office. Harry laughed as the stairs moved about overhead it was one thing reading about them, and another to see a building that actively sought to get its residents lost. Harry didn't blame it. With no one listening to it, it needed some way to garner attention. They reached the third floor, and with a wave of a hand a gargoyle statue revealed a spiral staircase which Albus lead him up.

The room was quite striking, it had shelves upon which many books, scrolls, and loose parchment rested. On other shelves where all manner of odd device some made of glass others bronze, most all of them clicking or twirling in some way. A large globe stood off to one side of the room, and the rest was taken up by a large wooden desk which itself was laden with rolls of parchment, clicking doodads, and small bowls of candies.

What drew Harry's attention however was the bird perched on the stand in the corner of the room. Its brilliant plumage seemed to imitate a roaring flame, it's long golden tail feathers glowed slightly. When they entered it let out a whistling tune and for the second time Harry was struck by a powerful tune. It wasn't the tune itself, but in who's voice it was sung. Fire, it was the song of fire. The marriage of wind and death. A Pheonix was the living embodiment of fire, death then rebirth.

"What an odd creature you are." Harry smiled as he pet the trilling bird. "my past experience says that you should be a being of hunger you should seek to devour and burn. Yet you're seen as a loyal and kind creature, your tears heal and your song warms the heart."

Harry locked eyes with the Pheonix green staring into black.

"What do you know that we don't?" He questioned.

Fawkes trilled once more high and with a bit of a warble. It was laughing, and Harry felt distinctly like a child told he was to young to know such a thing.

"Fawkes has been my faithful companion for many years," Albus said, having taken his seat while Harry examined the bird. "his songs are a joy to hear."

Harry smiled and took the seat opposite the headmasters desk.

"Yes, I haven't ever heard a Pheonix song before it was very nice."

Albus nodded before steeping his hands and with a conspiratory lean began to speak.

"So tell me Harry, how is it that you can perform magic without a wand?"

"It's quite a long story actually." Harry stated.

"I am rather fond of long story's." Albus responded.

"Me too." Harry said.

So he told him. He told him about how he was sent off by his Aunt, about how he hid from those that sought him out for fear of being returned. He told him of how he discovered magic of which Albus was astonished and quite interested. He told him the gist of his travels as to go into detail would take the story over the boarder of long and into the realms of far too long. In the end Albus was made to understand that he was well traveled with a wide range of skills. He had thrived, he was his own person. Not a boy that needed protecting, but a man with knowledge and skill.

"No onto my next question," Albus began." would you be willing to become a student here at Hogwarts?"

Harry frowned at Albus' hopeful expression.

"I can't Al," Harry began. "not only would I hate to be tied down as such, but I can't use a wand."

"Can't?" Albus asked.

"Yes, can't." Harry clarified. "I learned of this from a core specialist in America. You are familiar with the cause of accidental magic correct?"

"Yes," Albus said. " when young witches and wizards have not yet reached magical maturity their cores are unstable, and prone to lash out when in states of high emotion."

"Exactly," Harry said. "now it is at around age eleven to ten that magical maturity sets in and the core begins to stabilize. It is also at around this time that they would get their first wand. The magical core still not yet solid, but not so open as before latches onto the connection that wand provides. Wands were made to do this, and so the connection is easy and the wand acts as a magical focus from then on."

Harry pulled out his pipes.

"When I was young and my core still unstable I began to feel out my magic." Harry stated. " When I went through my magical maturity my magic was already accustomed to reaching out to many different magics not just that of a compatible wand. My magic never stabilized, it is still wild and formless so that I can bend and shape it with my music. I doubt there is a wand in existence that is compatible to me."

"I see," Albus said. "magic by use of wand something you can never do, and it is all that is taught here. Beyond herbology, potions, and electives you would have nothing to do."

"Even then," Harry began. " I am classified as a Journeyman in the disciplines of rune carving, and potions."

"Quite the feat for one so young." Albus commented.

"I want to be well rounded you see," Harry said. " jack of all trades as it were."

"Admirable." Albus smiled. " Well then, I wish you luck in the tournament Harry, I will have a room ready for you tonight one of the elves will inform you of its location when it is ready. Until then feel free to explore the grounds."

"I think I may do just that." Harry said as he left the office.

Albus sat at his desk deep in thought. Harry was quite the young man. He seemed to be living Albus' dream of seeing the world. Somewhere deep inside Albus envied him, but that envy was tempered by sadness at the losses he had to endure. And now, the subject of a prophecy. Albus was no fool, most prophecy's did not come to fruition without foreknowledge on the part of the subjects.

It was Voldemort's own actions that surged the events of the prophecy into motion. It was his own fear of death that gave birth to the instrument of his defeat. Albus knew that Voldemort would never leave Harry alone, not until the boy was dead or dying. In another time Albus may have sought to protect him from this fate, now though after meeting him he knew that would be for naught. He would rebel if they sought to control him, he would see a safety net as a cage.

After the tournament he would tell him everything. He would give him the tools to fight his own battles, but always be there should he need guidance or help. In the meantime he would meditate and try to understand this new magic. With a smile Albus Dumbledore sat cross legged on the stone floor of his office, and listened.

Harry found himself wandering aimlessly through the halls of Hogwarts. Not sure exactly where he was going and not truly caring in the least. He would open a door every now and again and peer inside, finding abandoned classrooms or just empty rooms altogether. A few of the doors lead to know where, other seemed to be painted on but strikingly realistic until one reached for the handle. It was an odd little walk and he found himself enjoying the moving staircases quite a bit. Snag had fun gliding to the next floor when he found himself going downstairs.

After a while the students began to filter back into the castle. Harry found himself the subject of quite a few stares. He did look rather out of place, he mused. With his muggle clothing and his odd flying squirrel creature. He took the not so covert glances in stride and stuck to a tried and true method he had learned in his journeys. If you don't act like a tourist you won't look like a tourist. So he never let his eyes linger on one thing for to long taking solace in the fact that he would have plenty of time to get to know the castle. He walk with confidence as if he actually knew where he was going despite having no place to go anyway.

It seemed to work as less people noticed him right away and he only had to deal with their stares at his back. It was another twenty minuets later that Harry was ascending a spiraling staircase in the west side of the castle. He was smiling to himself at the discovery. He just loved the novelty of a spiraling staircase, he just had to orchestrate a sword fight down or up it. Preferably both. He reached the top of the staircase and took in the expertly crafted bronze knocker that sat in the center of the knob-less ('Is that even a word') door.

It was a beautifully crafted piece, the bust of an eagle with a thick bronze ring clutched in its beak. Harry would have examined it further had it not chosen that moment to speak.

"What is the voice of the earth?" Spoke the knocker in a deep bass.

Harry pondered the question for a moment, well, not so much the question itself as much as why the knocker was asking it. In the end his curiosity won out and so he answered.

"The powerful beating of the drum."

The knockers beak closed and it seemed to gnaw on the bronze ring before reply; "Well spoken."

Harry was in the middle of a celebratory self administered pat on the back when the door swung open. Most eyes in the room were immediately drawn to him. Harry sighed as the whispering began. He noted that he room was dominated by a color scheme of blue on bronze. The carpets were blue where as the silk curtains that hung around its many windows were blue lined with gleaming bronze. The entire room seemed to be naturally lit and looked quite a lot like a high class library with many plush couches and chairs. He was about to bow out of the room when Snag, the little devil, scrambled over top his head and into the room. He watched as the little guy scampered between the legs of a few students and out of sight.

"Why," Came a soft voice sounding like a yell amidst the whispers. " if it isn't Snag, its been ages hasn't it?"

"I know that voice." Harry said as he pushed past a few students.

Curled up on a bay window cushion, her long pale blond hair splayed over a pillow was Luna Lovegood. She had a small book laying flat on her folded knees and was petting Snag just between his horns as she knew he liked. She looked up at him a small serene smile on her lips.

"You brought Harry with you as well," She said." how nice."

Harry put on his best hurt face; "Luna cares more about the Snorkack than she does me. So much for my first ever friend, what world!"

Choosing to ignore her housemates gawking Luna set Snag down beside her along with her book before standing up. She dusted off her skirt and griped her hands behind her back leaning forward to get a good look at Harry's face. Leaning back again she grasped a corner of his jack lifting it up to expose his suspenders and shirt. She then dropped it and took a step to the right her eyes trailing up and down his form. She made a circle about him in this fashion before standing right in front of him again and with a small smile said:

"You dress funny."

Thoroughly gob smacked Harry flapped his mouth for a moment before coming up with the perfect response:

"No, you."

She took herself in from her mismatched socks to here butter beer cork necklace, and her dirigible plum earrings. Then with a nod, finding that all was well, responded:

"Yes, but that's hardly the point."

Harry laughed long and hard finding it remarkable how very straight faced Luna could say something like that. A slight upturn of her lip gave away the statement as a joke.

"Well Luna," He said after catching his breath. "I was hoping, now that I have kept my promise of coming here, that we could be friends like I wanted to be when we were younger."

Luna nodded; "I have always been your friend Harry. Though I will admit it was quite a wait, I knew you would keep your pr-ah-mis!"

Luna gasped as she was caught mid sentence in a hug. Harry squeezed her tight about the waist and lifted her lighter frame into the air.

"Haven't broken one yet Luna!" He laughed.

Luna meanwhile had taken to placing a hand over he eyes and scouting like a sailor from the crows nest.

"The view is rather nice from up here," She noted. "Cho I think I see that jumper you lost just behind the shelf there!"

"So," Spoke one of the female students. "Loo-er-Luna was telling the truth after all? She was childhood friends with Harry Potter? He really had a pet Crumple-Horned Whatsit named Snag?"

Harry, who was still playing periscope for Luna, nodded in the affirmative.

"I met her when I was just ten years old," Harry said." she was cute little blond girl with a beret and an easel."

Above them Luna fought to stave of a small blush and remain aloof from her perch scouting out the Ravenclaw common room. Over the years she had developed a small crush on Harry. She knew rationally that the crush was on the idea of Harry rather than the person. Though she considered him a friend she knew very little about him. In first year her odd fashion sense and demeanor had alienated her from her housemates. Despite this she wanted to make friends, and out of desperation had used her friendship with Harry to try and garner attention. In the end it had the opposite effect, she was "Loony-Lovegood" with her imaginary friend "Harry Potter" and his pet Crumple-Horned Snorkack Snag.

It was a foolish thing to do and she should never have used Harry like that to begin with, she realized now. She also realized that even if they though her a liar she still had Harry and his promise. One day he'd come and offer her his friendship again. A darker part of her hoped it would happen soon to spite the people who shunned her, but that just wouldn't be her she could never rub something like that in someones face. So she waited isolated and she latched on to the idea of Harry. Who could blame and adolescent girl if those fantasies of offered friendship sometimes lingered on to soft kisses and held hands atop the astronomy tower. No one that's who!

Still, she knew that this Harry and that Harry were to separate things. She looked forward to getting to know this Harry, her friend. Even if a small traitorous part of her heart held on to the idea that there could be more one day.

She was jostled quite forcefully from her thoughts by a sudden drop and a light thump as her feet hit the carpet.

"I think you've seen all you can see eh, Luna?" Harry asked.

"Here yes," She responded airily. "but we will have to do it again someplace, its remarkable what a few feet can do to change your perspective."

Harry laughed; "I know what you mean."

Harry lead Luna from the searching eyes of the Ravenclaw common room and into the halls of Hogwarts. They were subject to even more stares, but neither payed much attention. Luna was leading Harry to the great hall.

"Harry Potter!" Another familiar voice.

"Well,well," Harry said turning on a dime." Hermione I was wondering when you'd turn up."

There she stood in all her glory her frizzy mane slightly tamer than he last saw it and her frown fighting back a smile.

"Two years," She said marching over to him. "two years I waited."

"For the record," Harry stated."Luna waited longer."

Luna waved.

"Noted." Hermione grunted looking him over. "Your still wearing that?"

"What is wrong with the way I dress?" He questioned. "Honestly? Is it the suspenders? 'Cause I draw the line at getting rid of the suspenders!"

"Well if those don't go whats the point of getting rid of anything?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, its all too monochromatic anyway." Luna added kneeling down to lift up a leg on his pants." Look at these socks, plain white quite bland."

"Are we done picking apart my wardrobe?" Harry asked taking a step away from the probing girls.

"For now," Luna said offhandedly. "but I will be getting you some better socks..."

Hermione stared blankly at Luna for a few moments.

"Oh," Harry said." I forgot. Luna, Hermione Granger. Hermione, Luna Lovegood."

"Lovegood," Hermione began." as in The Quibbler?"

"Yes," Luna replied. "that's Daddy's magazine."

"I have a subscription." Hermione said avidly. "the runic puzzle pages help a lot with my Ancient Runes class. And the zoological pieces, while somewhat outlandish, are handle very seriously enough so that I was forced to rethink my ideas on what is and is not real."

"I will admit that Daddy can get carried away," Luna smiled. "if Mummy wasn't there to curb his wilder ideas I think the magazine would be a wholly different publication."

"So," Hermione began addressing Harry. "this Tri-Wizard Tournament."

"It's a fine enough excuse to visit as any." Harry stated. "Should be fun, and whoever entered me must have had a reason. That reason, whatever it is, will reveal itself in time I am guessing. I don't know of any enemies I may have so I have no leads, waiting game it is. In the meantime, free food, a warm bed, and good friends."

Harry tossed an arm over each girls shoulders.

"What more could I ever ask for?"

~End~

Please review.

I apologize for lateness, family matters got in the way.

Please leave your opinion on the chapter I love hearing from you.