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Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything I reference in this story. This is a work of fanfiction that I make no money off of.

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Harry collapsed to his knees, trying to catch his breath.

A total of two weeks had occurred, two weeks that were spent doing non-stop physical training to get himself into better shape and an overview of the school curriculum.

Being in somewhat decent shape from quidditch and other activities is completely different from what he had set the standard at when he was an Auror. The training was at least seeming to pay off, as he'd managed to actually get through the regimen this time, even if he were short of breath.

The overview on the curriculum was to make sure he didn't mention a NEWT level theory at the beginning of the year. He needed to pace it like he was progressing instead of simply leaping forward.

The talk he had with Dumbledore unnerved him from how he didn't expect it too. The man was very intelligent and was likely already guarded about things since Voldemort's return. Harry should have suspected Dumbledore would confront him like that. But it all worked out for the best. Dumbledore believed the motivation part was from nearly dying and he didn't feel the need to correct the old man about the error.

After catching his breath some, Harry stood back up and stumbled to the table, grabbing a flask that held some Pepper up potion.

Grimmauld Place had a basement in it for training purposes, mainly spell work and dueling. He and Sirius began 'basic' dueling lessons within two days after the talk with Dumbledore, and now he was using it to his own benefit.

The dueling served Harry's goals well. The dueling gave a reason why he would be more capable than what you'd think of a fifteen year old, Sirius waxing poetic about his seemingly prodigious grasp on dueling.

His progress when he actually began getting actual training after the war was fast, given that he did have talent in that field of magic, but the overall training with Sirius, along with his own exercises, was helping the two of them get in better physical condition.

Sirius hadn't truly been taking care of himself. The man ate and drank well enough, gaining back most of the weight he lost in Azkaban, but he hadn't been specifically training to get his duelling skills back to what they were during the time he was an Auror.

He'd heard how his father and Sirius managed to duel with Voldemort working together and managed to escape with non life-threatening injuries, a feat that few could boast. If Sirius were at top form, Bellatrix would have been hard pressed to kill him.

Running a hand through his damp hair, he exited the basement and went upstairs, wanting to get a little more light than what was available in the admittedly dreary room.

He went up the stairs and headed to his room, stripping off the sweat covered clothing he had on and entering the bathroom to shower. As he was nearly finished, simply letting the water hit him, his thoughts shifted towards how he was going to handle the year concerning Ron.

He'd had a talk with Sirius about his anger towards Ron, obviously leaving the two major things out.

Him abandoning him during fourth year was something he was capable of forgiving, now that he had a few more years of living. Ron was a 14 year old boy that had finally let his own self doubts get in the way of good sense.

The two that weren't forgivable were him abandoning them in the forest of Dean and the incident that had landed him in the past now.

The locket could only do so much to make your attitude worse. Ron hadn't accepted how bad things were going to be if they were on the run, only realizing what he signed up for when they were in a tent with lacklustre food.

Ron may have come back, but his absence could have very well gotten Hermione and him killed, especially him, if Ron hadn't showed up as he was drowning.

His trust had been shaken in Ron, something that he had managed to hide and conceal for the next couple of years.

But what Ron did, going behind his back and not trusting Daphne, got him in this mess. Ron may have meant well, but he would never trust his judgement ever again.

Shaking his head at the thoughts, he got out of the shower and toweled himself off, before putting on a fresh pair of clothes and excited the room.

He made his way down the stairs, entered the kitchen and sat next to Sirius, Remus sitting in front of him.

"Have a good workout?" Sirius asked, noticing that he'd had a shower.

"Better than yesterday." Harry shrugged, tussling his hair slightly.

Sirius hummed slightly and went back to eating the rest of his food.

"How goes your spell work?" Remus asked, having been out of the loop slightly over the last several days.

Sirius decided to speak, his face lit up with a smile.

"Better than James when we were 15." He grinned, looking straight into his friend's eyes.

James Potter was about as good as a 15 year old could be at dueling, having a Black as a mother and Charlus Potter as a father had a habit of making sure he was expected to be excellent at it.

Remus raised a brow at Harry, before shrugging.

"You did master the Patronus at 13, so I shouldn't be surprised."

"Only because I had a good teacher." Harry grinned.

Remus barked a laugh. "I guess that might be part of it."

"Hey," Sirius protested, feeling left out,"I'm the one that's been teaching him lately. What about me?"

"Well, Remus gave me the foundation that you are building on." Harry pointed out, giving Remus a wink.

Remus understood the queue and added on his own little comment.

"See?" He pointed at Harry, "We stand amidst my achievement, not yours."

Harry smiled as Sirius and Remus got into a friendly argument on who could take more credit for his progress.

Both lost and were deprived of many things, but they still had the bond of brotherhood that they had formed as young School boys still.

Thinking of something else, he let a new train of thoughts move to something that he knew from before.

Today was the 26th, meaning just a few days separated him from returning to Hogwarts, the first place he considered truly his home.

He didn't know yet how he'd limit Umbridge, the toad more than likely being appointed since Dumbledore likely wasn't going to find a replacement teacher for "Moody".

The attempt to piece together a potential plan was short-lived as the Weasley's and Hermione eventually made their way to the dining room close to when he nearly finished his food.

Letting the situation he'd held off for a little while, he made the decision of staying to talk with Hermione and Ron, but most would be towards Hermione. He needed to, now that school was less than a week away, talk with them somewhat.

The twins and Ginny sat down and gave a barely noticeable look of concern while looking between Harry and the other two.

Harry gave them a soft smile, seeing Hermione visibly relax when she saw he didn't give them a look of apathy at best.

As the two of them sat down, Harry decided to speak first.

"How has the cleaning been?" He asked, his tone neutral.

"It's been," Hermione started, before her she smiled slightly, "It's been difficult."

Harry had sequestered himself into his room to study, prepare for the trial in the first week, or train in the basement, leaving him without helping the others in cleaning up the house or interact with some of the Order members as much as he had before.

At the response from his friend, Harry adopted a false look of confusion.

"Why would it be difficult?" He asked, "You know you can do magic under the Fidelius, right?"

No matter how sophisticated the tracking abilities the ministry had in catching underage magic were, they couldn't do a thing about it under a Fidelius. The Fidelius charm would mean that no signal could be sent that magic had been used.

Hermione widened her eyes in shock, whether from not knowing that, or surprised that he did, he didn't know.

Molly heard what was said and scowled slightly.

"Harry," She admonished him from the other side of the table, "I didn't want them to know that."

"You mean we didn't have to work like house elves all this time?" Ron demanded irritably, "Bloody hell." he muttered.

"Language, Ronald," Molly scolded her youngest son, "You shouldn't be lazing about all summer. Hard work builds character."

"Sounds like a Hufflepuff." Ron muttered.

"And the Sorting Hat almost put me there." Molly smiled, looking straight at her son, who now looked more subdued.

"Ah, good old fashioned hard work without magic," Sirius leaned back in his chair and grinned as he listened in, "Not like I'd know what that is."

Harry snorted at that, looking back at Hermione.

"How was your summer before you got here?" He asked, wanting to "know" how his friend had been adjusting to things following last school year.

"I finished all the summer assignments," She said, frowning slightly at hearing Harry cough in a way that sounded like "No surprise.", "I heard that. Anyway, I finished them and it wasn't really special like when we went to France."

Harry just listened quietly as he let his friend talk about a couple of the things that you'd share with friends, her face having a slight smile throughout her talking.

He almost regretted giving her the cold shoulder the last couple weeks, knowing it would hurt her. But he had just come back from a nightmarish event that still left its scars on his soul. He couldn't just rush to her and embrace her, having known what happened to her.

"Enough about me," Hermione said, looking at Harry, "What have you been doing since...well, you know?" She finished the last part with no small level of discomfort.

Ron had remained quiet, barely making eye contact with Harry throughout the conversation between his bushy-haired friend and his possible former friend.

"Studying," Harry shrugged, playing it off as simple, "And training."

"Training?" Hermione asked, her face scrunched in thought.

"Voldemort's back and I'm not letting anyone at this table die." He said firmly, looking at every single person sat at the table.

"Are you practicing magic?" She asked, wanting clarification.

"I'm learning to fight," He said vaguely, giving Sirius a discreet look, telling him not to be too detailed, "Sirius is teaching me things."

Hermione looked like she was about to ask for more, but the look from Harry made her reconsider, already feeling nervous about the stability of their friendship.

Harry could see all the emotions flick across Hermione's face, not even having to use the modicum of passive Legilimency that he was capable of.

To stop an uncomfortable silence, Remus cleared his throat and spoke.

"Padfoot has said how much better you've gotten. Mind if I see for myself?"

Harry looked at Remus with a slight grin, thinking of something.

It would probably be better for him to lighten the atmosphere, so he looked at the scarred Marauder.

"Think you can keep up with me, old man?" He asked cheekily.

Sirius snickered at the raised brow and the slight squint Remus aimed at Harry.

"Don't think you're not old too, Sirius." He said sarcastically, fixing his friend with a glare, "Last I checked, we're the same age."

"I don't have grey hair." Sirius pointed out, grinning at the airtight argument he had.

"Doesn't matter if he's old looking." Harry pointed out to Sirius, a sinister grin on his face aimed at Remus, "He's got hot young witches lining up to jump those old bones, or at least one in particular."

Sirius and Remus both chose the wrong time to take a drink of tea and ended up spewing out a mouthful, both for different reasons.

Sirius threw his head back and let out a bark like laugh, almost howling when he saw Remus' expression.

Remus actually blushed, a Marauder, the quintessential stud amongst their generation had been embarrassed by a fifteen year old.

"Oh stuff it, Padfoot," He growled irritably, "It's not funny."

"That was crass, Harry." Hermione scolded him lightly, a slight look of disgust on her face.

"How was that crass?" Harry asked, playing the fool.

Hermione huffed indignantly. "At least one in particular?" She raised her brow.

"Yeah," Harry nodded quickly, bobbing his head, "Tonks."

Sirius was shaking and trying to keep in his laughter all the while Remus was glaring at his friend.

"Did you think I was talking about one bone?" Harry asked with false naivety, "What bone would that be?"

Harry saw in his peripheral how Molly had already left before and had not heard his joke, Ginny looked slightly embarrassed, the twins were trying to stifle their laughter, hardly doing better than Sirius, and Ron was actually smiling slightly.

Hermione's face turned red from irritation, knowing full well he knew.

"You know what one you were meaning." She said hotly, shaking her head.

"I'm not sure you know this, Hermione, but there's only 206 bones in the body, not 207. Muggle school wasn't that bad for me, was it for you?"

Hermione's nostrils flared at his playful joking.

"Harry Potter." She warned, pointing a finger at him.

"Hermione Granger." He said gruffly, his eyes alight with amusement.

She glared at him, before she took a deep breath and exhaled, sitting back in her chair.

"You're messing with me."

"The brightest witch of our age has made a brilliant discovery." Harry clapped, chuckling at her glare, knowing it had no heat in it.

Harry heard Sirius mutter into Remus' ear, the latter still looking vexed at Sirius.

"I don't think you're alone," Sirius mock whispered, looking between Harry and Hermione.

Hermione realized what Sirius was joking about and looked away from Harry, blushing slightly.

Harry gave Sirius a glare that only was seen by the target of the look and Remus, his eyes flashing in anger.

Sirius recoiling slightly at the look, unprepared by the look on Harry's face. It was supposed to be some light-hearted fun, pulling on his chain a bit, nothing personal.

Harry blinked and shook his head, not wanting to get into it.

He saw Sirius twitch and he also felt a slight twitch in his own magic, knowing the wards just alerted them that someone wanted to enter the front door.

"Someone's at the door." Sirius said simply, pushing out his chair and standing up, "I think I know who it is."

Harry had a sneaking suspicion on who Sirius was talking about.

Sirius left the room and headed to the front door, muttering something under his breath.

Harry's hypothesis was confirmed when Sirius returned to the room a few minutes later with Dumbledore standing right beside him, a leather bound tome in his left hand, tucked against his side.

"What did you two do?" Harry looked at the twins, fixing them with a mock glare.

The two looked at him irritably when their mother gave them a look of suspicion.

"Don't do that." They said at the same time, knowing what Harry was trying to do.

"No point in lying to your mum. Dumbledore's already found out."

Dumbledore showed no outward expression save for a slight twinkling in his eyes.

"What did you two do of you do this time?" She demanded, "What stupidity happened now?"

"They suffered the terrible misfortune of having a friend like Harry." Dumbledore cut in, his voice a solemn one.

Everyone went silent at the table, astounded at the answer Dumbledore gave.

Sirius snickered, followed by Remus and Harry.

Everyone else clued in a moment later, with the twins shouting their protest and Molly glaring between Harry and Dumbledore.

"That's not funny," She muttered, "And don't encourage him." She pointed at Dumbledore.

"Let's not forget how you didn't doubt me at all when I said your sons did something that warranted Professor Dumbledore personally coming here." Harry snickered, turning towards the twins and winking.

Molly looked at her sons with embarrassment, the two playing it up in a quick adaption to her suddenly being incorrect about her judgement this time.

"Do you have such little faith in us, Mum?" They asked, George taking it a little further, "I thought I was your favourite."

Fred snorted and cuffed his twin on the back off the head lightly.

Molly gave the two of them a deadpanned look. "When have you two been accused of something that you didn't do?"

Both opened their mouths, but paused, realizing that they couldn't think of something.

"Exactly."

Dumbledore spoke now that the conversation ended.

"As much as this has been amusing, I wish to speak with Harry about this coming school year. Would we be able to speak now?" He asked Harry, a miniscule glance towards the book he was holding.

"Yeah, we can." Harry said, getting up from his chair, "We can talk in my room."

Harry gave Hermione a smile, shooting a grin at Fred and George, before leaving to head up to his room with Dumbledore right beside him.

They got to his room, Sirius in there with them.

"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked, looking into Dumbledore's eyes.

"Sirius has mentioned how some of the spells you have been working on have been inconsistent in their power." Dumbledore started, sparing a glance towards the man.

Harry's magic was still settling from the removal of the bindings on his magic. It was almost gone now, but some of the finesse that he had with his magic was still taking a little longer to come back, said finesse being similar to how muscle memory worked, taking time to build up.

His body was simply unfamiliar with handling the level of magic he'd been used to just a few years from now.

"Yes," Harry nodded, "They have too much power in them."

Dumbledore had explained, much to Sirius initial anger, until he had the reasoning explained, that the removal of the bindings on his magic meant he was throwing out much more magic in his spells, unknowingly overpowering them constantly.

"That is partly why I'm here," He explained, lifting up the book he had, "This is a journal I worked on containing the personal things I worked on, mostly certain Occlumency exercises, to help prevent my own spells and charms from not functioning at best from putting too much into it."

Harry stared at the book blankly, not knowing Dumbledore had a journal of that. He simply worked on it himself, being satisfied with what he'd managed over the 3 years following Voldemort's death.

"I'd rather you not struggle with the practical side of your spell work from what has happened."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said genuinely, taking the book when Dumbledore handed it to him, "What else did you want to talk about?"

Dumbledore's face tightened slightly and he shook his head.

"This year will be a difficult one, even without considering Voldemort's return. I have failed to find a replacement teacher for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position with less than one week before the start of term. The Ministry, based upon what I have heard, will be making a decree that they will appoint one if the headmaster is unable to find one."

Harry hid the surprise he had from Dumbledore being this open on things, wondering why he was.

"What does that mean for me?" Harry asked, beckoning Dumbledore to continue.

"It will obviously be a supporter of Cornelius that is the appointment, likely to spy on me and to ensure that the students are 'educated' in the correct manner." Harry could spot the sarcasm at the word.

"You will be a target, Harry, whether for ridicule or an attempt at cooperation, I don't know."

"Why the hell would they want to work with me?" Harry asked, genuinely confused at what in Merlin's name would possess Dumbledore to think that.

"The only time they believe we met since the announcement of Voldemort's return was at the hearing." Dumbledore said simply, not elaborating further.

Harry thought for only a few seconds before he came to the likely conclusion.

"I never brought up Voldemort's return," He said slowly, beginning to grin slightly, "I didn't look like I was happy seeing you, which isn't exactly wrong."

Dumbledore twitched slightly, but nodded at the statement.

"They might think you convinced me to lie about Voldemort and I 'grew a pair' at the trial." He used air quotes.

Sirius snorted at the comment and Dumbledore nodded.

"Precisely, although I would have worded it differently." Dumbledore responded, "But you should be wary of certain individuals possibly seeking to take advantage of you, now that it is public knowledge that you are the heir to House Black."

"Sirius has explained that already." Harry deadpanned, having already had a several hour long conversation about it.

Sirius warned him of how several girls, especially the Slytherin ones, may try and become a little more friendly with him from being the future Lord Black.

The smartass comment by Sirius on whether Harry even knew what to do with a naked girl had not been appreciated.

"Good." Dumbledore said, looking slightly relieved, "I was uncertain whether you were aware, but Sirius had informed of the risks."

With that particular uncomfortable subject out of the way, Harry decided to broach a topic that he wanted to address to simplify things in the future.

"Professor, if the appointee is one of Fudge's lackeys, we won't have a proper teacher, especially this year, correct?"

Dumbledore nodded, gesturing for Harry to continue.

"Would it be possible for me to try and set up a study group for DADA?"

Dumbledore raised a brow in question, but showed no other outward reaction.

"Hmnn," He thought himself, stroking his beard, "I never thought of that. You do realize it would take up a great deal of time on your part?"

"I was already thinking of dropping quidditch this year to concentrate on time to prepare for Voldemort." Harry shrugged, having already informed Sirius thar he made the decision to drop the sport this year to concentrate on training and preparing for Voldemort.

It was painful for him to come to that conclusion, but Quidditch was unimportant compared to hammering himself back into combative shape for the conflict ahead.

Dumbledore gave Harry a look of sympathy, closing his eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath.

"It is a terrible misfortune that such choices need to be made, I commend your choice, Harry. Although I do see it was a difficult one."

Harry nodded solemnly, waiting on Dumbledore's answer.

Getting an approval for the D.A. from Dumbledore before Umbridge was appointed would make it much more difficult to get it disbanded. It would also mean they wouldn't need to sneak around doing it.

Dumbledore finished what he was thinking and fixed Harry with an intense gaze.

"What precisely will the study group be teaching?"

"Things like how to protect themselves." Harry replied, maintaining eye contact.

"I will not let you teach them to fight a war, Harry."

"I don't expect school children that have read dueling books for a year to become as capable as determined killers. Even veteran Aurors were killed by Death Eaters."

"Then what do you presume to teach them?"

"How to survive long enough to escape," Harry shrugged, "I'm alive because I was able to escape, not because I was killing dozens of Dark wizards with curses and hexes. Teach them to maintain the sense of mind to cast a few spells and escape, that's what I want."

Dumbledore adopted a pensieve look, seeming to debate whether he would give the go ahead.

Harry was thinking of something of his own, already having an idea where he would be moving the Diadem to prevent anyone getting ahold of it. Murphy's law had left him paranoid of things he could prevent from going wrong.

Voldemort would never think to look in the Chamber of Secrets for the Diadem.

After deliberating for a moment, Dumbledore sighed audibly.

"You will have my approval to start a study group. It will be open to all students who wish to learn. Understood?" Dumbledore tilted his head down and peered over his glasses for effect.

"Yes, Professor." Harry nodded, not humouring the idea of limiting inclusion.

Who knows? Maybe Nott might find himself tripping and snapping his neck en route to a meeting.

"Good." He smiled slightly, "I came here to give you that journal and to wish you good luck in working on it, but I must be off. I look forward to seeing you for the new school year."

With that, Dumbledore turned to leave, sparing Sirius a nod.

After Dumbledore left, Sirius gave the journal on the dresser a look.

"You think that will be useful?" He asked, probably wondering the value of it.

The journal was something that was handwritten by Dumbledore as a means to properly control one's power, specifically one with similar power to him.

Harry just grinned.

"Without a doubt."

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"Ah, Dolores, thank you for being here on short notice. I have a pressing subject I wish to say." Cornelius addressed his Undersecretary, gesturing for her to sit.

Dolores smiled and sat down, adjusting her cardigan slightly.

"Yes?" She asked sweetly.

Taking a deep breath, Fudge began to speak of what his plan was.

"Within a few days, Hogwarts will have a Ministry appointed teacher from the decree that will be made due to Dumbledore's inability to find one."

Umbridge nodded along, already aware of this.

"You will be the appointee, just as we planned, but there will be a slight change."

"And what is that?" She asked, her face showing slight concern.

Fudge groaned and rubbed his temples at the memory of the event that complicated things immensely.

"Potter is not what I thought he was. He's not a simple school boy that is cowering behind Dumbledore's skirt," He scoffed at the image, "Something happened this summer that left Potter forgoing Dumbledore's help to show his own ability in politics, in front of the Wizengamot Lords, no less."

Potter was a wrench in the initial plan to get at Dumbledore, the boy possibly being a help instead of an impediment if he would cooperate.

"Do you wish me to get close to him?" She asked, "Offer help?"

Fudge shook his head.

"Not necessarily, I want you to see, by carefully monitoring who he is with and how he conducts himself, whether what he said over the summer was whether Dumbledore forced him to spout it off or if it was simple mania caused by seeing Diggory's body coupled with him being bitten by an acromantula."

The last two weeks had made Fudge think of possible reasons other than Potter being a braggart and an attention seeker for the spectacle that happened at the end of the tournament.

"If the second is the case, we can go after Dumbledore for believing the word of someone who was temporarily compromised mentally, and a boy at that, while the first will be far better."

He then grinned widely.

"But if it's the first, the future Lord of House Black and Potter will feel indebted to the one who "Freed" him from Dumbledore's meddling."

Umbridge nodded and smiled at her superior.

"You are far smarter than anyone knows, Cornelius."

Fudge chuckled to himself.

'One of the reasons I was chosen as Minister.'

"But is that all you needed to speak with me about?" She asked, shifting slightly in the chair.

"Yes, that is all for now." He nodded, "You may get back to whatever matter you were attending to before."

Umbridge stood up to leave, exiting the room with a click of the door.

Now that he was alone, Fudge let his mind wonder.

He worried that it would not be possible to fix the hostile stance Potter likely had with him, a cooperative relationship being a much preferred one.

How the bloody hell could he have known that Crouch had chucked Black into Azkaban without a trial, but give his own damned son a trial with the little bastard having been caught with the glowing wand?

He'd been at the scene of the crime, seen the broken bodies of the muggles, seen how Black was hunched over, looking unhinged and cackling like a lunatic.

He'd thought it impossible that Black could have been innocent, but the effort that Potter put into forcing through a trial within the next few days was telling on what he thought about his godfather's innocence.

The Daily Prophet would take his lead in running damage control, tossing the blame for an innocent man's, and a war hero at that, imprisonment into the laps of Crouch and Bagnold, the two having already passed.

He'd come out smelling like a rose, a Minister who fixed the mess that the previous administration mucked up. Any nonsense Dumbledore spouted about the Dark Lord would fall on deaf ears when a "Morally upstanding" Minister told him to bugger off and to stop scaring everyone with ghost stories about dead men coming to life.

'Yes. Yes. All that I need is to convince Potter that my hands were tied by Dumbledore. And honestly, why would Dumbledore let the one good Black rot in prison if he was Potter's godfather?'

Sometimes, he almost thought the nonsense the Prophet was writing, concerning Dumbledore's supposed senility, had more weight than he could have ever thought.

Would it be impossible to think that Dumbledore knew Black was innocent? Even spreading rumours that Dumbledore wanted the opportunity to mold the Potter and Black heir to his personal liking could derail many of his outspoken supporters. Influencing a vulnerable heir was considered especially heinous, even more so by letting an innocent man rot.

That line of thought caused him to straighten up and remember something else, something that had him seriously considering that particular theory.

Severus Snape was the one that gave him his eye witness account of what happened in the Shrieking Shack. Potter and his friend swore up and down that Black was innocent and that they weren't confunded.

Albus Dumbledore's word was the only reason Severus Snape wasn't rotting in Azkaban for being a Death Eater, could it be possible that Snape lied for Dumbledore? To keep Black silent permanently?

This conspiracy by Dumbledore may be much bigger than he thought. He'll have to speak with Lucius on the matter later, his friend possibly knowing or spotting something that he missed.

Cornelius Fudge kicked back and relaxed in his chair, arms crossed behind his head and a massive grin on his face.

He could make this work.

////////////////

Harry fired off a muttered stunner at Remus, the older man flicking it aside with his wand.

It was near dinner time and Remus had wanted to sate his curiosity on Harry's progress. By the look on his face, he was very pleased.

Remus sent off a spell chain, Disarming, stunner, and bludgeoner, all of which were stopped by the Protego shield Harry cast.

Remus Lupin was a very capable wizard and duelist, making him a good opponent for Harry as he was attempting get a better grasp on his magic and train his body to act the same way.

The basement would hold up to most spells, even if he were holding back the actual arsenal of spells and curses he had.

Harry dropped the shield, side stepped the stunner Remus sent at him, and fired a low level blasting curse at him, the impact making Remus stagger slightly even with a shield up.

Harry followed up with several low level curses and hexes, the sheer number almost overwhelming Remus.

One of them managed to slip through, a Leg-locker.

Remus staggered and didn't have time to move out of the way of the bludgeoner that struck him in the gut, bending him over.

A disarming spell, stunner, and body bind were the last things he saw before he hit the ground with a thump.

Harry took a deep breath and pushed his hair back, trying to get it out of his face.

Sirius was behind him, laughing at his friend's plight.

"You just had to mislead him, didn't you?" Harry asked, raising a brow at his godfather.

"Hey, he thought you were above average for a soon to be fifth year, not better than James was at your age." He shrugged, "I just didn't correct him."

Harry just shook his head and laughed lightly at the thoughts Remus would have.

"You want to wake him up?" Harry asked, pointing at Remus' unconscious form, "You can enervate him better than I think I can."

He'd only 'Done it once', needing to keep up pretenses.

Sirius nodded and flicked his wand into his hand, approaching Remus' downed form, muttering a spell under his breath, his wand glowing a soft blue.

Remus opened his eyes and blinked, coughing slightly.

"Merlin, Moony," Sirius shook his head, "I didn't think Dora rode you that hard."

"You're a son of a bitch, Padfoot." Remus groaned, still coughing from the bludgeoner hitting him.

"That's not an insult, Remus, that's just a statement of fact." Sirius said flatly, waving his wand again and summoning Remus' wand from the ground, tossing it back to his friend.

Sirius reached his hand out and pulled Remus up, patting him on the shoulder, wide grin on his face.

"What did I say?" Sirius proclaimed, looking at Harry with pride, "He's good, right?"

Harry just grinned at Remus' continued look of shock on his face.

"Just a couple of weeks of dueling has done this?" He asked incredulously.

Harry just nodded.

"It might just be the two of you are slipping, that does happen in your twilight years." He grinned, "Quick question, Moony, have you noticed whether you're needing to get up to piss more often or starting to forget things?"

"Very funny." Remus deadpanned, unamused by the comment and Sirius' snickering.

"Hey Sirius," Harry turned to his godfather, "You think Tonks would prefer a young, virile, stag over an old wolf?"

Sirius' eyes widened for a fraction of a second before throwing his head back and laughing.

Remus glared at Harry, shaking his head and muttering irritably.

"Prongs used those exact words about himself when he talked about trying to woo Lily." Sirius almost wheezed at the look of revulsion on Harry's face.

"Don't talk about that." Harry groaned, not liking the image, "This is about Remus, not me."

"Remus has seniority." Sirius shrugged, "He's been my friend longer than you've been alive."

Remus eventually stopped looking gruff about the Tonks comment aimed at him and was chuckling at the turn in fortune for Harry.

"Alright alright, I'll drop it," Harry grumbled, deciding to changing the subject, "What did you think?" Harry asked, gesturing towards his wand.

"Much better than I would have thought," Remus admitted, "I'll need to focus more and not underestimate you next time."

Harry nodded and hid a smirk.

If he had used all his knowledge and let loose with his full power, even without being at top form, he'd beat both of the men in the room.

"But that will be for later, that bludgeoner hurt." He muttered, rubbing at his gut.

His spells had more impact to them than practically everyone else, part and parcel for someone with a great deal of raw power.

"Ready for a break already?" Harry asked, before turning to Sirius, "You wanna have a go?"

Sirius shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

Remus stepped back towards the edge of the room, eying the two of them.

Sirius made the first move and launched a flurry of curses and hexes at Harry, some not exactly friendly.

In a display of quick thinking, Harry dodged the first, shielded from the next several, then dropped the shield and deflected a piercing hex back at Sirius, who flicked it to his left into the wall.

Harry launched his own assault, several jinxes and hexes at a rapid pace.

He'd decided to display his speed of casting, but not the depth of spells, instead making it look like he was fast and creative, but lacking in depth of experience.

Sirius shielded them all, looking almost disappointed.

"What was that?" He asked, "You can do better than that!"

Harry grinned and flung a blasting curse, putting some more heat into it.

Sirius' eyes widened minutely and he threw up a stronger shield, a loud bang sounding out from the impact of the curse.

Sirius lowered the shield and eyed Harry with a frown, before grinning slightly.

"That's better."

Harry followed up with some more low level spells he learned at school, firing another spell that created a small cloud of smoke.

Temporarily blinded by the smoke, Sirius dashed to his right to try and get a proper view of Harry, said teen expecting it.

Under the cover of the smoke, Harry had conjured several stones, flicking his wand to levitate them, and banishing them at a rapid speed towards where Sirius was going to be.

Sirius had barely left the smoke cloud when he was forced to shield against the storm of rocks, several having gotten through before he could cast his shield.

Harry could almost hear him grit his teeth at getting hit by a fast moving rock.

After the stones were vanished by Sirius after they struck his shield, the two of them shifted into a pattern of exchanging spells and either dodging or shielding them.

Harry broke the exchange and cast an incendio at Sirius, adding a quick wind spell to spread the flame around and propelling it at his godfather.

Sirius hastily conjured a great deal of water and sloppily slashed his wand across his chest to shape it into the rough shape of a shield, stopping the fire with a loud hissing noise from the water getting vaporized.

Harry was not complacent and vanished his own fire, casting an overpowered freezing charm at the remaining water that wasn't vaporized.

He was temporarily obscured from sight when it froze into ice, giving the chance to cast a cutting curse through the ice, aimed lower than he normally.

The curse tore through the ice and he heard a growl of pain from Sirius.

"Damnit. Hold on, Harry, I'm hit."

Harry relaxed and lowered his wand, but not before vanishing some of the ice.

He walked towards Sirius and saw that he was pulling up his pants leg and inspecting his right leg, a fairly sizable cut just below his knee.

"Lucky I shielded partially. I don't want to have to take a damn potion."

Deep cuts and slashes would need a small dose of healing potions to prevent scarring.

"Oi, Moony, get your arse over here and fix me up. You're better at it than me."

Harry saw Remus shake his head from the other side of the room and make his way to the two of them, kneeling down to inspect the cut.

"This," He pointed at it, "Is a scratch. Whining like an infant." He muttered, jabbing his wand at the cut.

Sirius yelped and glared at Remus, holding his leg steady so Remus could heal it.

His wand glowed a faint silver colour and the skin slowly came back together and sealed shut, a faint red line where a cut had previously been.

Flexing his leg, Sirius pushed himself to his feet and looked at Harry with praise.

"You're fast," He smiled, "Damn fast."

Harry nodded and let a grin dance across his face.

"Merlin, I'm out of shape," Sirius added with a groan, stretching slightly, "I need to do some more training if a fifteen year old could do that to me."

"You've taken your first step towards acceptance, old man." Harry grinned, patting Sirius' arm.

"Yeah, yeah laugh it up." Sirius swatted Harry's head, missing when the teen ducked, "I'll kick your arse next time."

"You'll have to catch me first." He laughed, turning and sprinting up the steps and out the door, vanishing from sight.

The two men still in the basement shared a laugh at the antics of a teen they saw as a nephew, both happy that he had stopped brooding.

Remus gave Sirius a look of question.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

Sirius took a deep breath and shook his head.

"I was putting more effort in dueling him than it looked," He said quietly, "I've lost a step, mate. A fifteen year old got the best of me, even if I wasn't using lethal spells."

Remus nodded at his answer, his face twisted into a grimace.

"You'll need to fix that, Padfoot, no we need to be prepared. Harry's motivated to not lose anyone, we can do the same." he finished firmly.

Sirius nodded at his close friend, pulling him into a one armed hug.

"No argument, mate."

//////////////

Ron didn't know how to feel. He'd been angry at first when Harry seemed to ghost him and Hermione. How dare he do that? How dare he dismiss how worried they were? But the more he thought about it, and he had alot of time to stew on it, the more he saw how he'd buggered up things.

Hermione brow beating it into him was painful, but he managed to keep his temper in check and actually listened to her, even if it was a painful lesson.

He doubted his friend's word. This was the same friend that almost died from a basilisk because of Malfoy trying to hurt his family. This was the same friend that had charged into the Shrieking Shack to save him from a Grimm, which turned out to be Sirius.

Ron looked around the room he was in, being all to aware of how quiet it was.

Everything Harry did was to help him, just as a good friend would.

And he abandoned him.

Ron put his face in his hands and growled irritably, his hands muffling the sound.

He couldn't even bring himself to tell his supposed best friend to his face that a damned dragon was the first task. His brother Charlie had risked his neck and left a thinly hinted at letter to him, mentioning how 4 different dragon breeds were like a Norwegian Ridgeback and that Harry might be interested in learning about them.

Ron was so angry at Harry that he made some stupidly complex plan to let him know, but still not telling him to his face.

"Some friend I am." Ron scoffed to himself, "Telling Harry to piss off because I was jealous. Merlin, I don't want to be like Snape."

He'd heard in passing from Sirius, a few days before Harry got to Grimmauld Place, about how Snape was a jealous wanker that envied James Potter.

And Ronald Weasley envied the dead man's son.

Scowling again, Ron made a promise to himself that he'd try to be a better friend, even if Harry decided not to be his friend anymore.

Thinking of Harry made him think of something else he noticed. His friend was looking tired and sweaty from learning magic from Sirius, but he looked much better.

He looked like he grew at least an inch or two in just two weeks and he looked less thin.

Harry had obviously been working to the best of his ability this summer when Ron had decided to laze around when not cleaning up the house.

He'd slacked back and been fine with being at an average level on his marks, not really caring for school work. He had Hermione to help him out if he needed any help with his subjects.

But Voldemort was back, and his Death Eaters weren't going to spare his friends or family simply because he was a Pureblood.

His family were proud blood traitors, and he had a muggleborn and the Boy-who-lived as his two closest friends.

Thinking of the Death Eaters filled Ron with hatred, a kind that had his teeth gritting at the memories of when he was younger and had wondered whether the ornaments on their tree during Christmas had been made by Fred and George, given that they had F and G on them.

His mother had left the room for a few minutes after he had asked her, his Dad following her to talk with her.

That day was the first time he was told about what happened to his Uncles Gideon and Fabian, the ornaments being made by them when they were in their second year at Hogwarts, the two twins gifting them to his mum on Christmas.

The memory conjured up images that he hated more than anything.

He didn't want to visualize Fred and George dead, dying together instead of one running away to survive. He didn't want to think of his father dying so his family could escape. He didn't want to think of Ginny and his mum being killed by Death Eaters, him being too lazy and stupid to stop them.

Ron growled and threw his pillow across the room, frustrated that nothing was broken when he threw it.

Cursing himself for having to get up, he got out of the bed and walked across the room to pick up the pillow, tossing it back on the bed.

Ron would try to study more, even if he wasn't the smartest or cleverest person. He'd try to stop from snapping at Hermione as often, and not say things to intentionally make her mad.

Even if Harry never went back to being his best friend, he saw how dismissive Harry was towards him at breakfast, he'd still try and make himself worthy of being a good friend.

After all, a Gryffindor doesn't cower from an impossible task.

//////////////

End Chapter: A little shorter than the others, but there wasn't as much to put. Next chapter will be the Hogwarts Express and a possible meeting between a certain lion and snake in green.

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