When The Day Is In A Billion Years.

He slowly made his way to the doorstep. A brief knock later, he found himself engulfed by a mane of red hair. He only managed to cough out, "… Mrs. Weasley, it's great to see you too."

Mrs. Weasley relented from her hug and held him at an arms distance giving a look over. She couldn't help but comment, "Harry! You've filled up… and grown!"

To him, it was screeching at its worst. But he decided that he'd lived through worse and held back from protesting. And, Mrs. Weasley had been kind enough to him when she didn't have to.

Hurried footsteps were heard from the stairs and a few seconds later, Ginny, Ron and Hermione rushed to the kitchen. Ron shouted a question, "Mom, is Harry here? His trunk is upstairs!"

"You should turn around and see for yourself", came the voice of the boy referred to in Ron's words.

"Harry!"

He decided that three different voices screeching was something he definitely did not like. When the three of them stepped closer to him, he gave Ginny a one-armed warm brotherly hug, ignored Ron's attempt at that and shook his hand and scooped Hermione up in a hug that rivalled one of her own in intensity. A scowl briefly passed Ron's face, at Harry's ignoring him, as he twirled Hermione round and round in the small kitchen.

On the other hand, Hermione was shocked to stone. She never thought that Harry would willingly initiate a hug, much less one like he was currently giving her. And using the sense that always connected her with her friend unlike any other, she tried to find out something amiss. She only found joy, happiness and a something else. Something had changed inside Harry, she could sense it, she could feel it but she couldn't pinpoint it. It was like – it was always meant to be there, whatever it was, just that it wasn't there until that moment and while it felt different, it wasn't odd in Harry. She couldn't help but smile too, at the carefree bright smile on Harry's face.

He set her down and panted, gasping out words in between breaths, "…'Mione… I… I brought… gifts for all… of you."

The group made their way to the table where Hermione helped Harry sit down. Ron's scowl was now acting as a permanent feature of his face. But he took a seat too.

Harry picked the backpack off the floor where he'd discarded it in the frenzy of greetings. Only Mrs. Weasley noticed the absence of wand in his hand as he flicked and the backpack appeared in his hand – Hermione was too winded, Ron too deep in thought about his friend's behaviour and Ginny too excited about the prospect of getting gifts.

Harry seemed to have noticed too. But instead of looking surprised, he looked sheepish and looked around. Meeting his eyes, she lifted one of her eyebrows in a questioning manner. He just acknowledged with a nod and made a gesture with his lips that clearly read as, "Later."

Deciding to investigate later, she spoke out, urging him to get a move on.

"Oh! Yeah… Umm… so here – "

He handed over Ginny's gift. Opening the wrap, her eyes went three sizes too big for her. Inside the box was a Snitch with signature of the star seeker of the Holyhead Harpies on it.

"Got her to sign it in exchange for mine… really stupid if you ask me."

Mrs. Weasley's gift turned out to be a self-filling bottle of fire-whiskey. She couldn't decide whether to scold the young boy or to be really happy about the present. So, she just thanked him and waited for the other gifts to be unveiled.

Hermione opened her gift and sat there, eyes dazed and mouth hanging open. Stunned, once again. Harry was doing that a lot today, Mrs. Weasley thought. Ron picked up Hermione's gift and, he too, became rigid and stunned. Mrs. Weasley couldn't stop herself from picking the box off Ron's hand and looking inside.

Inside a most beautiful pendant on a most beautiful chain. The pendant looked very similar to a phoenix in flight with a transparent ruby coloured gem at its heart. She approached to pick it up. It was very elegant; its sheer beauty had knocked her children off their senses. But as she picked the pendant up and inspected it from up close, she noticed the letters P-O-T-T-E-R engraved in a strange way behind the pendant. She only managed to turn towards Harry, despite her shock, and ask, "Is this Goblin made?"

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley."

The group waited for Hermione to come around. When she did, she wanted Harry to take the gift back. But he didn't buckle under her relentless verbal attacks, unlike earlier times. She settled down with a huff and soon enough she was admiring the beautiful piece of jewellery.

Ron's gift turned out to be a book that alternatively showed up as the Canon's very own book on its club history and past playing tactics, and a book that dealt with study techniques and why one should study well to get a good career. Ron was furious and glad at the same time.

Mr. Weasley returned home a little later. With him back, Mrs. Weasley quickly called everyone for dinner. Harry was already sitting in his customary seat at the table reading a book on…

"Cryptanalysis, Harry?" Hermione asked her friend. For the world of her she couldn't imagine Harry reading a serious book on advanced studies that came from the magical world, let alone muggle.

"Yup. Very refreshing and easy on my brain."

Okay, now that was definitely odd. Harry Potter finding an advanced muggle subject easy and refreshing? Deciding to ponder on it later, she dug into her dinner.

Mrs. Weasley was thinking about Harry's answer to her question – "Oh… its nothing. Dumbledore just wanted to help me learn a few neat tricks. I got the hang of wandless summoning and in the process of learning wandless magic got myself a boost in my magic."

The dinner ended in a lot less noise than was usual in the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley informed Harry that he'd be bunking with Ron. Ron, who was still grumpy about his gift and an unknown rift in their friendship, grumbled something incomprehensible and stomped off to his room, his feet making loud noise on the wooden creaky stairs.

"If you don't mind, I have to be up waiting for Dumbledore's message. Something about some job of his that he wanted me to know. So, I'd like to camp here on the living room couch, please."

It was phrased as a question and a request but Arthur could feel the hidden strength of conviction behind the voice. Having worked for so long in the ministry, he'd learnt to distinguish between a request and a demand. This was a demand and one he dared not to oppose.

Though he had to wonder how Harry got that tone – he had heard him speak with strength before… His words had a different nature to them this time.

Hence, before anything could be said, he spoke out, "Molly dear, I think that will be the best. Go on Harry, make yourself at home. If you need anything, you know where to find us. Come on Molly, let us leave Harry alone."

The Weasley couple left the room to go to their bed, leaving Harry to arrange his stuff. He opened his trunk and saw that it mostly held his Hogwarts stuff and clothes. Sighing in relief, he moved the trunk away and opened his backpack. Moonlight fell on the bag and through the open zip something gave off a metal glint. Paying it no mind, he pulled out the guitar he had found in his mother's vault. He closed the bag and propped it up by the side of the sofa – his makeshift bed. He kicked off his pair of boots off his feet, suddenly realizing that nobody had asked him anything about the pair of combat boots he was wearing. Cracking a small smile, he steered clear of his armour-padded jacket. It was a proof to the sense of surprise he brought along with him that day that no one had noticed anything different about his dress or his attitude.

He slowly laid himself on the plush sofa, groaning at the relief that his aching muscles got. He lay there, unmoving, for a long time before he opened his eyes again and sat up against the side hand-support of the sofa. Quietly he pulled out the French harp from his bag and blew off the bits of dust on it.

Hermione woke up. She had been up late thinking about everything that came to her mind. The magical world, the war that was brewing, her subject of affection, Ronald Weasley, and Harry, her best friend. She had once read that asking out a best friend was the biggest gamble – "either you get everything you want, or you lose whatever you ever had". She had never, since then, thought of Harry. In some corner of her mind, a part of her always wondered how he managed to be so caring, so honourable and so good even after all that had happened with him. That traitorous part always recognized the small gentlemanly gestures that were typical of Harry, and it never felt guiltily proud of his 'saving people thing'. Yet she never let them out. Back in their fourth year, she had decided never to let anyone know about her liking Harry because Harry would never return her feelings. So instead of Harry, she had set her eyes on Ron, so that she could distract herself from thinking about the boy with jet-black hair. In spite of all that she sometimes would end up thinking of the ride on a hippogriff. It was her private memory, her Patronus memory. And she'd never share it with anyone else.

Her thoughts had drifted off from there and she had ended up falling asleep. But a slight discomfort had got her awakened. She got up and tip-toed out of the room so as not to wake Ginny up.

While coming out of the washroom, she revelled at the calmness that was in the air. A gust of wind blew, carrying a whiff of chill. She drew her cloak tighter around herself and paced through the dark stairs to get to the room. She'd barely moved up a floor when the wind died out and with the sound of wind gone, a very low muffled music was heard. Her curiosity incited, she descended the stairs like a cat and stopped at the kitchen door. She couldn't believe her eyes! There was Harry, her 'best friend' lying down on the sofa, head propped up against one of the hand-rest, legs on the other. And he was playing a harmonica.

She stood there listening to the sweetest music she had ever heard.

At some point of time, he had stopped playing and started singing – the charmed harmonica kept playing the music he had played. Harry's voice was deep and a little husky; the music and the voice made a surreal symphony – one she could swear she'd never get to listen anywhere else. It was like the campfire songs where riders and soldiers would sit around the campfire and sing to music all the while drinking light alcohols. She felt like being present in some deep Irish valley surrounded by forest. She couldn't express in words what she was feeling. It was magical.

It was a long time after which she could process the song. The song was about three ladies that the narrator in the song had loved. It spoke of the first lady who had honey coloured hair, a very intelligent mind and the deepest eyes one could find, the second lady with silver hair who was more beautiful than any angel and had the most charming smile, and the third lady who could be everyone at once and could turn a bad day bright simply with her jokes and fun-loving attitude.

The third part of the song confused her. Who could be everyone at the same time? Waving it away as a whim of the song-writer, she simply stood there, leaning against the doorframe and enjoying the brilliant singing of her best friend, one she never knew could sing so well.

Before the song could end, there was a sudden flash of fire inside the kitchen. Hermione, startled, stepped back from the room. When she peeked out of the edge, she saw Headmaster's phoenix, Fawkes, giving Harry some note. Harry took it, read it and crunched it up in his hand. Then suddenly changing the decision, he wrote down something on the backside of the note. Hermione was so focused on the action itself that she remained oblivious to Harry's wandless conjuration and vanishing of a pen without any effort.

Harry smoothed down a few feathers on Fawkes' ruffled wings and said, "Take this to Albus. And get Soldy and Corsair on your way. The note will explain everything to them and Albus. Bye Fawkes!"

In another flash, Fawkes disappeared. Then Harry called out, "Mr. Weasley, will you please get down here now?"

The whole family got down to the kitchen. Hermione was still hiding behind the door of the living room. It was after Ginny asked aloud, "Where is Hermione? She wasn't in my room," that she walked into the kitchen.

Everyone looked expectantly at her.

She simply said that she had gone to the washroom and was returning when she heard Ginny and came in.

Mrs. Weasley turned towards Harry and asked, "Yes, Harry? You called us?"

Harry couldn't keep the mirth out of his voice, "I never knew that this house had so many Mr. Weasleys."

Everyone grumbled a little.

"Okay, okay. Dumbledore's message just came in. I just wanted to let you know that I'll be leaving in an hour or so. Mad-Eye is coming to get me."

"Where to?" Arthur asked.

"To Grimmauld Place. For some meeting that Dumbledore is arranging with a few of his old associates." It was a half-truth.

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Moody side-along apparated him to the steps of 12, Grimmauld Place to avoid suspicion. They both went in. There were Professor Dumbledore and two other men. The two men rose from their seats and saluted, "Sir!"

Harry gestured at them and they sat down in their seats.

"Welcome Harry. How are you after last night?"

"Good."

"Well then let's get on with this sudden meeting."

After a couple of hours, Dumbledore and Harry walked out of the house.

Dumbledore said, "Your men are really well-trained Harry. But I wanted to give the Death-Eaters another chance. Will you allow me to find out if they'd be willing to turn back to light?"

"If you think it is for the better, then… "

"Thank you, my boy. Oh! And before I forget, the Horcrux has been found. Mr. Soldy created an excellent lion from the debris who took the brunt of the Withering-Curse. I dare say that the Horcrux couldn't be destroyed. As weak as I am after dealing with so many wards, I can't summon the fiend-fyre. And I couldn't trust your men enough to do it. So, what to do with it?"

"I can purge it, Albus. My blood is potent basilisk venom if I will it to become so, remember?"

"Yes, I do… "

He did remember that fateful battle in the chamber. He had locked away Harry's powers to ensure that no unwanted attention was turned towards the school and students were harmed just to get to Harry. And in doing so he had kept Harry from using his abilities in his fight against the Basilisk. His only escape from grief is that something good came out of it, due to the Basilisk-Venom and Phoenix-Tears mixing with his blood, Harry could willingly produce the Healing-Tears and Basilisk-Venom.

"Then allow me."

Dumbledore quietly brought out a pouch and gave it to Harry.

"Harry? The ring holds a stone, a very valuable one. It is called the Resurrection Stone."

"Does it do what its name suggests it does?"

"Yes and no. It does something close but not exactly what it refers to."

"Don't worry. I won't be tempted. I have come to terms with the loss of my parents and Sirius."

"I am grateful Harry. Sometimes the old age forgets what strength youth can hold. It was most unwise for me to think that after what you've gone through, you'd fall for this."

"I must thank you for your trust on me."

Dumbledore sighed and said, "No Harry. Thank You… for providing me a person in you upon whom I can place my trust. But, the Stone is dangerous, Harry – and that is not because of the Horcrux! It can destroy you…"

"Easy old man. I know what they are. I now have two. The oval and the triangle. And you have the line."

"How…?"

"Albus, you are forgetting that I've had enough time to learn everything I could."

"And you don't want it?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you dead."

Dumbledore stood there gaping, an appearance most unfitting on his visage. Finally, his eyes twinkled brightly and he smiled.

"You have become wise, very much so. Wiser than I could ever be. Harry? Promise me that you'll never go evil. Because if you do, there won't be much that could stop you."

"I won't go evil, I promise."

"Thank you, Harry. I'll take you back to the Burrow. Please forget about this and the war. We need you to stay out of the limelight of power for now. Your fame already does a bad job of hiding you. Please don't do anything to show everyone this last ruse too… that you are NOT powerful enough to destroy worlds and create them anew."

Harry just smirked, "Okay, I am NOT powerful enough to do that and to conjure up intergalactic armies and fleets. I am just a normal school guy who is having some inspiration to play a lot of pranks this year."

Dumbledore noticed the bargain and accepted it.

"That is all I ask, Harry. Now let us head off to Gringotts for Sirius' will and then we will be back to Burrow. I must warn you though. You are having his everything. He didn't give anyone, anything else. I think Remus got his old trust vault, about ten thousand galleons. And a few others got a few small vaults or items, gifts if you will. And a certain lady was disowned along with a few others too… "

"And last but not the least, I offer the Tonks' a place under the House of Black as my mother's instructions make it impossible to actually bring them back into the family." The goblin rolled the parchment and put it back inside the golden cylinder. He then stoutly walked out of the room, to put the cylinder back inside the Black Vault.

Harry sat there thinking.

"Lord Black and a little less than a billion galleons? Not bad Sirius, not too bad for an escaped convict."

"I agree with you, Harry. This is most remarkable."

"Oh! Albus, the fact that you can continue using Grimmauld Place as HQ goes without saying."

Dumbledore looked around the empty room to make sure it was actually empty, though he was sure Harry would have noticed if it wasn't with his abilities and power.

He then said, "Thank you, Harry. But I still don't like it that you killed Kreacher."

"I didn't. Black family magic did… As punishment for his betrayal."

Burrow was a hive of activity when the two of them appeared there. All the Weasleys minus Percy was there. And Bill had brought home Fleur.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks and kept staring at the duo as Bill was trying to explain to his mother that he was just helping Fleur with English and Curse-Breaking.

Dumbledore had stepped a few steps further when he noticed the absence of his student. He stopped and looked behind. Then he looked forth again and realization dawned on him as he was reminded of the night in Harry's fourth year.

FLASHBACK

"Harry, you have to understand. If I give you your powers, the other Champions are as good as squibs in front of you, rather as microbes in front of your prowess in… in everything. It doesn't matter if it will give you your actual age back!"

"But you said that if I seek her then she'll become the target for the enemies. I just want to protect her!"

"No, Harry! You do not understand. You cannot get into any relationship. Any at all. Your friendship with Ronald and Hermione put them in enough danger as is."

"But sir…"

"Harry, what is the value of one man in face of the plight of millions of others? Nothing. It is too dangerous. You can't do anything of that sort now. Maybe after the war… "

"Sir, you really think she is going to stay single that long? Look at her, Sir. She is the living proof of the word 'Perfection'… Don't you think someone will 'notice' that and get their act up? Someone better than a fourteen-year-old bespectacled boy who has nothing to brag about except schoolyard victories? I can't even speak of my deeds in the Chamber or with the Dementors as you have sealed them off using the Vow!"

"I am sorry but it is not possible. Without Riddle present we can't predict what he'll do when he returns. Harry, I am afraid I have to draw up ranks in between us."

Harry only looked with clear protest in his eyes.

"I, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, hereby declare that Mr. Harry Potter, as a student or Tri-Wizard Champion, is not to engage himself in any way beyond simple acquaintance with Ms. … "

"You know it is not magically binding."

"Yes. Yet I also know that you, Harry, will never go against a direct order from the only superior you have got as far as rank goes."

"I…"

"Harry, please!"

Harry sat there like a stone. After what seemed like ages, he spoke out in a tiny voice, "Okay, I agree with the order."

FLASHBACK END

He walked up to Harry and said in a low voice, "Harry, please! Remember your order."

He added through gritted teeth as he noticed the small sparks leaving the fingertips of the young guy's hands, "Harry control yourself. It is nothing. They are just together. It means nothing. Please, Harry! Your powers are activating… Control yourself!"

Metallic fibres started forming over his shoulder joints. They were slowly stitching themselves together. The shoulder joint was almost covered in metal plates that did not shine with the normal metallic glint. They were the integral parts of Harry's defense protocols.

Slowly, Harry controlled himself. He reigned in the powerful impulses that were flowing through him. The metal subsided. After he had calmed down enough, he looked at Dumbledore.

It pained him to see the tears swimming in the child's eyes. He didn't want to imagine the physical pain Harry had to endure to dispel his standard protocols forcefully against its own rule-set.

Harry shut his eyes and lowered his face, hands gripped tight. Two teardrops fell on the grass, and to Dumbledore's amazement, the grass there brightened up and began swaying in a non-existent wind, absolutely fresh.

A couple of minutes later, Harry looked up again. This time there was a hint of steel in his eyes. He spoke through tight lips, "Don't worry Albus. I won't destroy the plan by going stray now."

"I seem to be saying this a lot today, but I must say it one more time. Harry, you have become wise."

The normally noisy Weasley family had retreated back into their home by then. And as disapproving Mrs. Weasley was of Fleur, she'd never willingly let someone feel bad or unwelcome. Her hospitality and motherly affection simply couldn't allow that. So Fleur was welcomed inside The Burrow as well.

The two of them quietly made their way to the kitchen door of the Burrow.

At the doorstep, Harry turned, gave a weak smile, and said to him, "Spending years in stasis while fighting a war against your own mind will do that you, Albus. Let's go, I am sure there is a 'special' feast for dinner tonight."

He opened the door and stepped in.

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