Albus Dumbledore leaned back tiredly. His half-moon glasses had been set on his desk at the beginning of his headache, and now the bridge of his nose ached, much like his multiple old wounds did when a storm was oncoming. Though, he thought wryly, if this was truly the path he was to take, he probably should consider it a storm that was approaching.

Truthfully, there was no other option. Harry Potter had arrived at Hogwarts broken, beaten, and starved. He had healed over his time here, making friends with the forest beings and Hogwarts herself. The house elves had taken a particular shine to him, caring for him in the communal way that they raised their own children. It was true, with them, that it takes a village to raise a child.

But now, the boy was in such a terrible mental state that Albus simply could not justify sending him back to his relatives. He was ostracized by the other students for such childish things: he had been placed in Slytherin, he was too small, he spoke too weakly, he was subservient. They even made fun of his eyes for being too "green" somehow. He still had to punish Parkinson for that one. Even with the consequences for bullying, the students did not stop doing it, yelling at Harry for being a rat and tattle tell.

And even past the emotional abuse, the ministry had manipulated him into placing the sweet child with the Dursleys once before. He wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. If they managed it again, Harry would be doomed to be in the ministries control for the rest of his life.

And then the event at the end of the year happened. Harry had tried to tell him! Had told him that Hogwarts herself was wary of Quirrell! And Albus had brushed him off, saying that he couldn't know that, that he had interviewed Quirrell himself. But no, Harry was right. The man had tried to collect the philosopher's stone and only Harry had stood in his way during that. And what had happened? Harry had unintentionally killed Quirrell! His bloodline blessing had acted up to protect him, burning Quirrell alive beneath Harry's very finger tips. Since then Harry had withdrawn into himself, his shell of emotionless. He only cracked open when the centaurs had led him to the the depths of the forest to be away from the place that haunted him. The knowledge that Harry had been wary of Hogwarts had shook her to her foundations, even if she had understood the reasons for it.

So no, Harry was not going back to those dreaded people this summer. The ministry had stopped him from being able to stay at Hogwarts or with the goblins, and even the spiders agreed that the forest was no place for the boy to live for more than a few days. So he had one more option. Sarutobi was not going to be happy. Well, no one involved on that side of the barrier was going to be happy at first.

Albus sighed once again, then leaned forward to look over the parchment that he had just finished writing.

Dilys Derwent looked on calmly from her place upon the headmasters wall. "Albus, you've done all that you can. It's time to send him on. You know what will happen if he stays here any longer."

"Yes, Dilys. I know. Could you find him please? Send him here?"

She bowed gracefully, then walked out of the frame of her portrait.

Harry sat on the edge of the bed. The sheets in the infirmary were itchy compared to those in his room or his nest in the forest. Madam Pomphrey wanted to make sure that he had not reopened any of his injuries during his latest stay in the forest.

His fingers were healing from the burns smoothly, the wounds on his feet were aggravated, but none of the burns had become infected. Apparently stepping through a wall of enchanted fire while barefoot is unadvised.

Most surprisingly, the extension of the scars from his forehead were completely healed. They now looked as if they had been inflicted several years ago.

Madame Pomphrey bustled over in his direction, "All the tests came back conclusive. You're healing fine. You can only take one small dose of this potion to boost the healing process." She held out a small vial, "Burns from enchanted fire are fragile, we can only help the process along so much without the skin scarring."

"My hands are already scarred, I have no problem with that." The small boy spoke softly, with a despondence that Madam Pomphrey hadn't seen in Harry since he arrived at Hogwarts.

"Drink the potion, Harry."

As Harry swallowed the surprisingly tasteless potion, he noticed a woman gliding across the infirmaries muraled ceiling. Hogwarts whispered to him in impressions and emotions she is kind, she approaches, she needs you.

A sudden knock rang through the headmasters office.

"Come in please, Harry."

The small boy stepped unsteadily through the extravagant doorway as Hogwarts swung the heavy door open for him. She had been extra cautious and kind to him since the incident.

"Have a seat. Now, on the matter of where you are to go for the summer," the boy flinched and curled in on himself, "the ministry has forced me to send you to stay with your relatives for the summer." The boy whimpered, a completely understandable response. "However, they never specified which relatives. I found something interesting in the bank's records when we went to visit them last week. I hadn't thought it anything big, but when I followed up on it, there was something shocking. On a continent far away from here, generally referred to as the elemental nations, is a country called the land of fire. Now, they are ruled in a curious way." Harry had sat up and was listening intently. Albus had noticed at Gringotts how interested he had seemed to be in the inner workings of organisations, and had known that this was one of the few ways that Harry could be drawn out of his shell.

Of course, it could just be an old man's indulgence to ramble on.

"There is a military state and civilian state coexisting within this country. The daimyo and the Hokage, the civilian and military leaders respectively, work for, with, and around each other. The daimyo's people supply good and services, while the Hokage's provide manual labour and protection, all vitally important things. Years and years ago, the two states created a law that would ensure for the safety of the Hokage's people, called shinobi. Instead of making standards that had to be upheld, they made a family integration law. If a shinobi died when they were hired by a civilian, and the death is ruled the fault of the client, the civilian family had to care for the family of the dead shinobi, and adopt the family as wards.

"Several decades ago, a woman named Elladora Black hired a shinobi woman, a kunoichi, to protect her sister from her family. And the shinobi did it successfully. The sister was, however, disowned by the family. Elladora and the kunoichi fell in love during the mission, and had wished to return to the land of fire to get married. The family caught wind of this idea and tried to attack the two. The kunoichi defended herself fine, but Elladora was in danger. The kunoichi sacrificed herself to save her lover. Since the death was Elladora's fault in a technical way, and she would never challenge the claim, she joined the two families in all official but not in a public way, so the Blacks were henceforth related to the land of fire.

"When a boy named Sirius Black ran away from the family, the Potter matriarch took a shine to him, much in the way the house elves took to you." The boy perked up again at the sound of his family name. "Sirius was eventually made a ward of the Potter household due to unique familial instances.

"Which means, that after several leaps of bizarre familial relations, you may stay the summer with a man named Ibiki Morino, the great grandson of the brother of the kunoichi." He finished with a proud smile. Harry sat there dumfounded, but joyful.

"I get to meet him? I could stay with him?" large green eyes peered uncertainty at the headmaster.

The old man's eyes crinkled as he smiled kindly, "Yes, I have been in contact with the Hokage, and she confirmed that Ibiki had a job that stayed within the village and was able to provide adequate care for you. However, the ministry workers are coming to escort you to your relatives home sooner than expected, and I did not have time to warn them how soon you would be there, or your certain… unique talents. Nor do the majority know of magic, only something similar."

Harry Potter was not a statuesque boy. He was no one's epitome of strength, stature, or splendor. In fact, many had gone so far as to call him weak and diminutive. He had skin pale as his owl's feathers, and eyes that were too large for his face. Often he wandered the halls barefoot or curled up under a blanket with unfocused eyes, seeing nothing but futures to be. His scar had expanded since the attack at the end of the year, and the various bolts of lightning spread down the side of his face and marring his eye. The scar would not expand, but also would never disappear. The goblins had informed the pair of the horcruxes presence in the scar, but could do nothing more than separate his mind from it and seal it away, so could never claim his or another's body. They were able to use a soul trace on it the horcrux to find the other pieces and destroy them. Voldemort would never be able to escape his cage inside of Harry's head.

Harry now sat on the side of his bed, his raven curls hiding his eyes from view. He was taking the time to catalogue the new scars he had before he asked Hogwarts to cover them again. She was always kind to him, helping him puzzle out the secrets shown in his visions and caring for his health.

"It will soon be time to go. Could you please start?"

One by one, the scars that came from his time at the Dursleys started to fade. The letters that were carved up and down his spine disappeared first, before moving on the stripes that crossed his back, creating almost an entire layer of scar tissue. The claw marks and burns on his thighs faded, until all that was left were shackle marks on his ankles and wrists. These he kept as a reminder to not let another do this to him again. Hogwarts had only let him keep them when he had realized just how misused he had been at the Dursleys. He rebandaged his hands and feet, Madam Pomphrey would not approve.

There was a knock on the door, and he quickly shrugged on a cloak that he thought made him look bigger, but in reality only exaggerated his tininess. Hogwarts neglected to tell him this due to the adorable image he made.

The door opened to Snape, frowning exhaustedly and fiddling with his wand. When Harry had first moved into the Slytherin dorms, the man had been inexplicably gleeful, but that quickly gave way to concern. Now the man oppressively hovered over him.

"We must be off soon. I trust you are all packed?" At Harry's nod, he thrust out a necklace. "Put this on, never take it off. It has enchantments that will keep you safe, make you understand simple things, and alert you to danger. I know it does some other things, but the creatures that enchanted it neglected to tell me these things. One charm from each race you have befriended." small long beads ran along the necklace inscribed with runes. Harry warily took it and put it around his neck. He struggled with the clasp for a few seconds, his bandaged hands making it difficult. Snape sighed loudly before taking the necklace into his own hands and deftly clasping it around Harry's neck.

Snape then cast a shrinking charm on Harry's chest, diminishing it until it was slightly larger than a fist. He handed it to the boy who secreted it away into his pocket.

"Listen closely, Potter, everything we do from here on out will be dangerous, but it is the only way. You need to stick with me." Snape's eyes were deadly serious, staring into Harry's with such an intense gaze that he didn't dare break it. "The people we are going to see owe me a favor, but they might decide that this is too much. If they do decide that they require more payment, you need to run. Do you understand? Get out of there as fast as you can."

At Harry's fervent nod, Snape grabbed the boys bandaged hand and disapparated with a startling crack.