OK This is the re-vamp of my story Mage, the first one in my opinion was rather vague with a plotline that tended to jump and chapters that ended abruptly.

This version will hopefully be more polished, have less plot holes and hopefully a better developed plot that you can understand more easily and not have things pop up from nowhere or pop up and never be developed. The original will be continued and this story will probably follow quite similar lines whilst changing and adding minor details. The original will remain up and be continued until such a time as it is finished or this version has caught up to it in which case it will be replaced.

I may not even post this version until I have revised the lot in which case I will just replace chapters or indeed the entire story.

Thankyou to everyone who has reviewed or will do so in the future and please if you do read this story and like it, or even if you don't review and let me know? I just ask that you refrain from outright insulting me because I am quite sensitive to such things and I'd rather not get depressed right now.

Enjoy the story.

Disclaimer: This disclaimer will serve the entire story and WILL NOT be posted with every chapter, I do not own Harry Potter, nor to I really wish to he and all other characters of the books belong to JK Rowling I make no profit or gains from the writing of this fan fiction, please don't sue me!

Mage

By Cataclysmic

Chapter 1

The Golden Gate

Blood littered the ground surrounding the beaten soldier, beaten not by his enemy but his own memories, the memories of the things he had done, the things he had ordered, the things that had been necessary to ensure victory of the light or at the very least the not so dark, oh no the enemy was gone.

For good this time, he was not coming back, not this time.

But it was not enough for this one soldier,

Their leader

Their hero

He found it amusing after all this time they still considered him their saviour, even though he had not been seen in public for many years, come to think of it he had never really been seen in public, their sight unseen hero.

It upset him more than anyone could possibly imagine the amount of young men and women, soldiers who came up and told him how they idolised him, how they had joined the fight to be like him, Harry Potter the Great General of the Dark Wars as the papers called him, what few and far between of them still existed. He was especially popular idol with the young recruits being young themselves, and the recruitment campaigns he endorsed only served to bring more and more far too young recruits up to the bat. He truly dreaded the occasional meeting with a mother or bitter sibling of those who joined to be just like him, against the wishes of their families, the families who in turn hated him for ripping a family member from them in many cases only to condemn them to die. In truth he had very little control over this, he was a war general, he had to make decisions for the good of the collective good not for the good of individuals nor for the good of himself. He knew there would be losses, everyone knew there would be losses yet no one thought it would be them, their family, their sibling, their mother, everything would be alright, they had Harry Potter.

God how he had wished to be one of the masses, one of the masses just out of his training, one of the people who could blindly follow him, Harry Potter, blind, blind to the consequences, blind to the plots, blind to the possibility of failure and yet seem so happy.

They weren't truly happy of course, but everything seemed that way to Harry the lost sheep mulling around waiting to be slaughtered, yet he would have rather have been one of the blind sheep than the one leading them to the slaughter.

His eyes glazed over the body of one of his troops, Amelia Bell, Katie's niece, only eleven years old, yet she could wield a wand so she had been here, they taught the children earlier now…

It had been him the rules had been changed for, him and his friends, but the rules could not just be changed for so few they had to be changed for everyone, and favouritism could not be shown especially not now.

And so they had lowered the age, the age you could drink, the age you could vote, the age you could be independent from your parents, the age you could fight… All had been changed so that Harry and his friends could join the fight or at least that was what the public believed, the truth was much dirtier, something that none of them had been proud of at the time and something none of them had been proud of since but it had been necessary. And once it had been lowered it kept lowering.

His heart clenched at the thought of that decision, the decision that had rested on him a decision he had been forced to make with a cold heart.

They had given him the choice, sure he had been strong, he had made the choice but underneath until that moment, until he had taken up that path even after all the gruelling training, the near death experiences he had still been in some essence, a child.

But that night at that fateful meeting of the Order of the Phoenix Harry had stepped over the edge into an abyss which demanded he win at all costs, sometimes he wondered if he was any better than Voldemort sending those young troops, young children out to die, the shock troops, and they were all young, the expendable, the older the wiser were far to valuable to be lost in such a fashion. Tears fell down his cheeks, how could he be so cold?

He was forced to maintain a cold outlook; even though he was dieing inside, he felt every one of those deaths weighing on his head everyday, knowing that tomorrow it would only get worse when he sent even more out to die.

He was like a dead shell now that it was all over, his purpose here was finished and he honestly wondered how many would miss him, he wouldn't.

People had joined to be just him, like his image more like, an image he would do anything to get rid of, an image that had cost him the family he could have had, friends he would have laid down his life for if they hadn't done it first...The image created by himself and the others to inspire the people, to encourage them to lie down their lives for them, for the cause, how very Medieval dictator like of them, how Voldemort like them, he thought, to treat the people they were trying to protect with such disrespect, however there were several differences between him and the Dark Lord one of those was that he did not enjoy having to project an image, especially one that would and had cost so many young people like himself to meet an untimely demise. Yet they were not like himself, those he sent out to die they were ignorant children who wanted an end to the suffering and a slice of the glory, they were not incredibly skilled and groomed into the job for years before the war, they were ignorant scared children, something he had never truly been.

It was over, finally over and all he could do was sit trying to even his breathing on a battlefield littered with those who had given their lives in hopes of attaining something better something worth living for, they had achieved their goals but they would never get to experience that which they had fought so hard for.

Tears ran silently down his face, none that had entered the battle with him, his group had survived, the elite of their forces, what had been left of them, lay scattered around one broken soldier.

He remembered a time, a time not so long ago when he had been young and innocent.

OK maybe not as innocent as the average Joe but comparatively innocent, his fifth year, the start of his 'enlightenment' as he bitterly referred to it. He did not blame anyone for his early 'awakening' he and he alone had made the choice and although his life had been hard from that point on, he did not regret it, not that choice although he regretted many others.

Albus had called him into his office as soon as he arrived, and offered him a choice, THE choice.

The choice was a simple one, continue on as a normal student and likely be dead before the end of the year

OR

Enter a specialised training course designed specifically to make the perfect wizard or perish in the process.

The latter offered him the 'heightened' possibility of surviving. it also provided Albus with the best weapon possible in the upcoming war, but neither knew that at the time, Albus didn't really think he would do as well as he did in the program he expected him to survive, hoped he would survive. Albus cared, not just about Harry the ultimate weapon.

He wasn't really the ultimate weapon, but that was what the people had ended up dubbing him. Recruiters had encouraged it as it helped recruitment numbers, helped bring in more lambs for the slaughter more ignorant children.

He was just another pawn in the game of life, he did not think of himself as Dumbledore's pawn, as many had referred to him believing themselves Better than the great Harry Potter, and that was simply because he knew better, he knew Albus was as much of a pawn in this game as he was, he did not want to lead, he did not want to be the shining symbol of hope that everyone perceived him as, but he was and that was that, no one could change that. Voldemort was the opposing Queen, could move with barely any restraints, and they were just pawns, pawns of the cause, protectors of the light. It was really irrational of them to think that pawns could defeat a Queen, yet that had been what he had done, what he had to do to end all this, he had travelled to the other side of the board and made himself a Queen as well, an equal.

He wondered why fate had seen fit to put him though such a cruel game, maybe he had done something really horrible in a past life or something, not that he believed in past lives, he didn't know what he believed in that was just it, it was all over now but who was he? His past had never allowed him to discover this and it troubled him, what did he have left to believe in, sure light always conquered Dark but what happened after? He somehow doubted that Histories Heroes had seen fit to publish a 'What to do when it's all over' self help book.

When he made his decision, the decision of a fifteen year old kid a decision that would put him in the front lines of the upcoming war, the room, no the castle developed a menacing feeling to it he had never felt before, but he knew it had been there underneath the surface, he had just chosen to ignore it before now.

He was now intimately familiar with that feeling, it was the feeling that something was coming something horrible, something no sane person could possibly like, sure he like Hermione had never truly ever believed in Divination, save his visions from Voldemort which could never truly be seen as Divination more like a side effect of being hit with the Killing Curse, but the feeling, it was real even Hermione after having felt, after becoming aware of it was convinced it was a sign of things to come, it was like a sixth sense of danger on the horizon you just did not know when and where or perhaps if they weren't so aware of exactly what the danger was of what, just a warning, a warning that there was danger coming. The feeling had never failed them either once they were aware of it.

It had been the turning point, the point he had ceased being innocent little Harry who would never even seriously consider the Unforgivables for any other use then against Voldemort or maybe Wormtail. It had been the turning point and now it was all over he wished he could go back and change his decision, where he could just enjoy the company of his friends, laugh and just do things without worrying about the consequences of his actions.

He couldn't of course, he wished he could but the fact remained.

His choice was for the greater good.

Any other choice would have resulted in total devastation, destruction, chaos, death...

Sure there was death here now, Good God there was a lot of death but had he made the other choice things would have swung a lot worse than the death of a mere ten thousand men.

God he had turned into a cold hearted bastard, he thought bitterly. TEN THOUSAND MEN had died and he thought it was MERE.

It was though and though he didn't want to admit it, it was a small price to pay. They had lost more and gained less...A battle of attrition that they had won, had they truly won when they had lost so much?

The final battle, it was finally over...

But what was there left for him to do...

He knew he could never be normal again, that innocent little kid, laugh over something so trivial as Canary Creams...

He had just lost too much...

He remembered Albus's death, Albus his guiding light, his fellow pawn...

Just what had he meant back then...?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The battle raged around them, friend and foe falling to the ground from the lethal combination of curses, hexes, spells, swords, sabres, guns anything and everything that could cause damage, the damage and the skill, how you incapacitated the enemy, that was what dictated this battle, dictated who lived and who died.

Harry knew the dangers, he thrived on the dangers.

Another Black Hawk Helicopter raged overhead, blasting away pockets of Death Eaters foolish enough to cluster together, mowing them down with its guns…

That didn't mean he liked this, the situation any more than the next person, no it just meant he coped well with the current one, he was at home on the battlefield, it looked and felt like he was born to do this...

He knew he could die, every person led into battle knows the odds are they won't live to see the other side of the battle but Harry moved with such ease through the battle scenes that many believed him invincible.

Just as he had believed or disillusioned himself into believing that Albus was invincible...

But no there he was right in front of him bloody, and well dying. He couldn't, no he wouldn't die tears streamed down the sixteen and a half year olds face as he watched his fading mentor...

The battle raged around them, yet nothing touched them.

A golden barrier having formed around the two figures dissipating and maiming anything coming into contact with it, good and bad...ally or enemy

Harry sat watching his last father figure fade out of his life...Sirius, Remus, Arthur, Moody, all dead, hell even Snape was missing, not that he really considered him a father figure…

But his long time mentor was not finished with his last strength he watched his favourite student crying silently over him already feeling the effects of his death, Harry would be the end of this war, he was sure of it, it was his destiny had been since birth to rid the world of Voldemort, but what was left for him once he was gone, not a lot he still had Hermione but whether she would still be there when the final battle was fought was doubtful at best, when all was said and done Harry would be alone emotionally, mentally and physically, and he knew, knew from the late night confessions Harry had shared with him over the last year and a half, that being alone was the one thing Harry feared above all else...the one thing that could ultimately destroy him

His physical strength was ebbing yes, but his magical energy was still going strong, he knew he would die, knew at the outbreak of this war he would not live to see the dawn on the other side but with his last magical strength he fought to give Harry one last gift, so he wouldn't be alone and maybe even have a chance to be happy again at the end of all this. He worked the spell pouring not only power but his heart and soul into the spell so Harry might have a chance, a second chance. He loved Harry like the son he had never had and the sacrifice of a few more minutes of life was more than worth it to him, for the chance for Harry to be Happy.

The spell completed, he worked the last of his strength into giving him one last message, the message that would seal Harry's fate...

"When it is all over Harry go through the gold..." and with that his final message was all but lost his last words left unfinished Albus Dumbledore great figure of history, father figure of Harry Potter, brilliant mind and lover of socks left his body and left the world a cold and empty place...

Death Eaters paid heavily for his loss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Had it been anyone but Albus Harry would have disregarded those final words for the nonsense ramblings of a dying man, but it wasn't anyone else, it was Albus, and Albus rarely did anything without a purpose, he did not count the mans dying words as one of those occasions, the way those deep sparkling blue eyes had held him roared at him the importance, yet he had never finished, never finished whatever important life shattering message he wished to leave him with.

It was all over wasn't it, what did he mean the gold… his heart clenched as he thought of Albus, just one more face that no longer existed save for memory, no not just one more face, one more of the important ones, the one connected to him, the real him...

He stood and surveyed the battlefield medi-witches as they worked feverishly over patients in the distance, patients that would likely die anyway or checking for pulses on those who were not moving all was cast in a red and gold glow as the sun set on the dry desert that was shrouded in another form of red and I guess you could call it gold, red cracked earth, blood and gaping yellow cliffs

Gryffindor colours.

Was everting he thought now so twisted that he could even compare bloodied wastelands to his old school colours?

The sun set and a portal opened.

Not just any portal a golden portal.

Twenty metres in front of him lay the answer to Albus' dying riddle.

Did he really want to know what lay beyond?

Did he even really care?

He knew what he had to do, there was nothing here left for him, nothing left to do, he had fulfilled his purpose, sure there would be people he would miss, the one person who had kept him really living, but he no longer felt alive here, like a part of himself had died with Voldemort, like he had outlived his usefulness, he knew he was going to take the chance…

Harry threw all doubts as to the safety of the portal out the window, he trusted Albus and if he wanted him to go through the portal he would... after all what did he really have left to lose?

With these final thoughts Harry took one last look at the darkening death scene and exited through the portal not really caring where it took him, not really caring about what he left behind so long as he did not have to look back, so long as it was a long way from here.

With a final shine of sparkling brilliance General Harry James Potter War Mage extraordinaire disappeared, never to be seen again...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Minister of Magic James Potter looked up from his tea sighing at the over excited young messenger that had just stormed into his office. He really needed to have a chat to his secretary about who was let into his office, sure most of the time he was bored when he wasn't doing something, but overexcitable desk clerks was not a something he would have chose to relieve his boredom.

Putting down his cup he patiently waited for the clerk to catch his breath, he wasn't especially interested after all he'd had thousands of desk clerks come running into his office in manners oh-so-similar over the last few years and it was no where near as often that they had ever had anything important, let alone interesting to say.

Don't get it wrong Minister Potter enjoyed his job, well as much as Minister Potter could really enjoy anything anymore, he just did not like the slightly more boring aspects that came with every measly desk clerk paper pushing moron thinking their work is THE most important thing to happen in a century possibly the millennia and they simply MUST bring it to the attention of the Minister. It didn't help matters at all when the stupid secretary just LET them in either, oh no.

The Paper Pushing Desk Clerk who had just informed him his name is Mr Gibblescribble, not that he really cared, had a horrible droning quality to his voice that oddly resembled Professor Binns his old History of Magic teacher and he instantly felt himself nodding off from years of practice. James shook his head and desperately fought to keep his concentration in the odd event that he actually did have something of importance to say.

It just so happened that Mr Gibblescribble DID have something interesting to say, but it irked James to no end that he did not have details.

Professor Dumbledore wanted to see him...

Immediately...

It had to be the strangest thing that had happened at work in years, it was no secret that the Minister abhorred Albus Dumbledore, hated him with a passion, something the Headmaster was intimately aware of.

It had to be the strangest, weirdest and probably stupidest thing Albus Dumbledore had done in years, for him to contact James Potter, Minister of Magic requesting to see him immediately was incredibly dangerous, for Albus Dumbledore to send in a request for increased school funding was dangerous, either Albus Dumbledore had something incredibly important on his hands or he had finally developed a death wish, that or he was ready to relinquish his position of Headmaster, whatever the case James wanted to know, needed to know what was so important that Dumbledore would risk contacting him, requesting his presence of all things.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lily came out of the doctors with a delighted expression on her face...

It had finally happened after all these years, after all these years of trying it was finally happening, she was so happy she could simply whip out her wand and place cheering charms on everyone within a ten block radius just so they to could feel a fraction of the happiness coursing through her veins.

An owl fluttered down and rested on her shoulder, luckily she had yet to re- enter the muggle inhabited area outside of ST Mungos, that would have attracted a few stares, though she doubted that everyone was as conscious of what they did in front of muggles as she was, she was muggle-born after all and unlike so many pure-blooded wizards she knew what muggle expectations were like, and letter carrying birds were not everyday items in a muggles life.

Lily quickly untied the letter from the owls leg and sat down on a conveniently close bench, most probably used by recovering patients of the world famous wizarding hospital..

The letter was from Professor Dumbledore, the esteemed Headmaster of Hogwarts, asking her Lily Marie Potter to please come immediately to Hogwarts as there was an urgent matter that required her attention...This slightly diminished her happy mood, Lily Potter did not want to be contacted by Albus Dumbledore, under any circumstances, he had robbed her of her first son, but…

AN URGENT MATTER!

Lily could not for the life of her think of an urgent matter that would require her attention, much less an urgent matter that required her Lily Potter to be needed anywhere near the presence of one Albus Dumbledore.

Lily had long since cut herself off from the school and kept as far away from the esteemed Headmaster as possible. As far as she could tell there had not been any reason to change that relationship, sure he had tried several times to convince Lily and James to forgive him, to talk to him again, as far as she was concerned that was never going to happen, she may find it in her heart to forgive the Headmaster, in the extremely distant future, and even then only for the sake of her child, but she doubted she would ever be able to be comfortable, God she didn't think she would be able to be in his presence without flying into an inevitable fit of rage. Harry's death was just too painful, and probably always would be.

But was he really at fault, she desperately wanted to blame someone for her loss did it really matter who, Albus Dumbledore, was it really his fault or just her anger lashing out at the first person she could think of to blame, urgently, the letter had said but here she remained, before she went to face him, if she even gathered up enough courage to face him she needed to know how she really felt, not the bottled up hatred that had fed off itself for years, she needed to know what she would do when she got there.

In fact Lily was having a rare moment of clarity; she could see just how stupid she had really been. For years she had been blaming Dumbledore for her son's death, for years she had been blaming him for something that was not his fault. Yes it had been Dumbledore who had suggested the Fidelis Charm, but he had explained the risks, he had offered to be their secret keeper and they had refused, stupidly refused thinking they knew better, thinking they could trust their friends better than they could trust Dumbledore, what the hell had they been thinking! Dumbledore had not chosen their secret keeper, they had.

Yes he had failed to root out the traitor before it was too late but the man was not omniscient. Hell even when she had spread her opinion of him not being omniscient she still expected it of him. Totally irrational, and it had taken eighteen years for her to realize just how irrational she had been behaving. How stupid she had been.

Yet even as she realized the mistake she had made, the subsequent mistakes following the original ones, grief mingled in with years of certain opinions and behaviour towards the Headmaster kept creeping in. It would not be easy, forgiving him for her mistake, forgiving herself for her mistake, working through the years of hatred which had fed off her hate and self loathing, but she was damn well going to try, this had gone on long enough, and if she was going to drag herself through this she would damn well drag James with her.

This was the time for new beginnings, to right the wrongs she had done, to make sure old grudges would not get in the way of her newfound happiness, she would not have her child growing up in the hate infested environment she had been living in for the last eighteen years, she would put her feelings aside and do what was best for her child, and it was better for her child that all this was resolved before he or she was even born.

Lily smiled at her resolution.

Standing up and placing her hand lovingly on her stomach where she could practically feel her baby's life force below her fingers she turned back towards St. Mungo's and towards the nearest fireplace.

Resolved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(a little earlier)

Harry immediately regretted going through that portal, not only had his horrid Slytherin side decided to make an appearance, chiding him for trusting anyone, especially when that person was Albus, a person who was without a doubt missing a little something in his head, but also for walking into an unknown substance, going to who knows where!

To add insult to injury that thing was positively sickening, worse than a muggle roller coaster whose designer had definitely been on something at the time of it's creation. He felt like he was being ripped apart, put back together, turned inside out and given as a gift to the most sadistic torturer in existence. It was not to say the least the most pleasant sensation.

Finally it seemed to be stopping, Harry could not have felt more relieved in his life, the hell with his reputation he had started screaming a long time ago, he was not even sure when he had started, not that it really mattered, it felt like he had been here forever and yet it felt like he had only been here a second. One thing he knew though was that it no longer hurt enough to be screaming, so he stopped.

Despite the previous sensations of torture and being torn inside out he felt remarkable good, not the best he had been in his life but about the same as he had felt upon entering the portal. He knew it was coming to an end, he was nearly there, wherever there was, not too far in the distance he could see a golden portal, not unlike the one he had entered to get here, though this one was different, this one he could see through, he could see what he thought was a fuzzy outline of a classroom, he kept walking closer, the closer he got the wider the portal got, now only gold on the fringes with a shimmering silver mirror like surface, still not clear enough to tell that the room on the other side was anything but a classroom. Tentatively he poked a finger at it, he immediately regretted it, cursing his curiosity, he really should know better by know, shiny surfaces, they always got him in the end.

He immediately found himself pitched forward, rather like being pitched forward into a pensieve with several differences. One, it actually hurt when he hit the ground, a lot. Two he knew it wasn't a pensieve and although the sensation was similar it was also distinctly different, more like being forcibly inserted into the memory then just viewing it. The Third difference was that there were people here, people who could actually see him.

Harry, thought he was long past the gaping stage, his training and years of being at the top of a wartime hierarchy had given him a quiet sort of dignity, a reputation to keep up and a constant conscious sense of what he was doing, at the minute however his body and mind seemed to be working in rewind. He was gaping, him, Harry Potter a War General, gaping. It was a little vain he knew to think of himself in this fashion but he was shocked, and with all he had seen in his all to short life he had seriously doubted he would have ever have been shocked again in his life.

Here he was in the classroom, the classroom he had seen on the other side of the portal, this classroom however was hauntingly familiar, this classroom had one belonged to his former Head of House Minerva McGonagall. Minerva had been an invaluable source of inspiration for Harry, when the war began she was not one of the sheep, older than the average recruit though she was she would not stand back in the shadows, member of the Order of Phoenix Council she had shown she was more than just a simple school teacher she'd jump in and help anywhere that needed helping, research, planning, battle she would do it all…

So caught up in his memories of his, well it was hard to explain what Minerva was to him, everyone was a lot closer to each other when united in war, so caught up was he that he did not notice the class in the classroom, or indeed the teacher.

Minerva was extremely curious as to why this stranger had seen fit to drop into her classroom, her beautifully clean ordered classroom with her distracting her well behaved studious students. Ok so the majority of them weren't studious, but they were working quietly and getting their work done, something that in this school was very rare.

OK so she was not only curious she was a little annoyed, more than a little annoyed. However being the well prepared teacher that she was, she kept her head. And right at this minute that head, instincts, whatever, were telling her that this person whoever he was, was a possible danger to her students.

Motioning to her students to move behind her, move towards the door she began to approach the stranger.

Unfortunately the students either did not sense the danger or did not take it seriously enough, these were Gryffindor's after all, it was that or the large amount of students in the class, so many students in fact that all the classrooms had to modified to fit them, they being all the children that had been born after Voldemort's reign, an abnormally large amount.

The unfortunate thing about this was that the amount of noise it created when a class of over thirty students moved from one end of the classroom to another.

This noise in fact caused the stranger to look up and jump to his feet from where he had been slouching on the floor.

Battle Robes were the first thing she noticed, not many people remembered what they looked like they were so rare, yet this stranger wore them, her estimation of the threat this person posed had just jumped exponentially. She herself owned a set of Battle Robes thankfully set aside in her closet hopefully for eternity. She remembered the terrible things she had been forced to do while wearing those robes, and she sincerely hoped that no one, ever, would have to suffer through that again, but even she realized that was wishful thinking. One wizard rose to power and after he fell another would rise after him and if they were extremely unlucky more than one would rise at the same time.

Battle Robes were just that, robes worn in battle, specially modified to conceal weapons and allow for easy movement, magically enforced to deflect minor spells, these robes were not worn by the novice, they were worn by the best, the best of the best.

The young man, so young, made his way to his feet in a few quick fluid motions, pulling himself together as he had been taught, standing tall proud and intimidating in his blood-soaked battle robes scanning the room in a manner that reminded her sharply of Alastor Moody.

What really worried her was the blood, the blood that covered, soaked his robes was not his own.

This man scared her, she sincerely hoped that this mans intentions were good (fat chance) and that he did not mean to hurt the students, because if she was forced into a duel with this man she sincerely doubted she could win.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Minutes Earlier)

Minerva looked up serenely from her desk, it was not often you had a class working this well in the afternoon, one of the reasons Timetables alternated morning and afternoon classes was that it had been proven that students concentrated better in the morning then in the afternoon.

It annoyed her immensely that she had more afternoon classes than morning with the Seventh Year Gryffindor's, concentration after all was an important part of Transfiguration.

Looking back down at the third year Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw essays she placed a C in red ink on the top of the paper, it really wasn't fair, comparing Hufflepuff work with Ravenclaw, the Ravenclaw would always be more detailed.

She was quite surprised when the comfortable working atmosphere in the classroom deteriorated, chatter had erupted, she looked up mustering an annoyed look, she had just been getting ahead in her marking, she had seriously had not expected to get much done in the way of marking this afternoon, but now that she had started she was determined to get it finished, it was their own fault they had been so quiet, they were now expected to stay that way.

However when she looked up she was not met with the guilty eyes of some wanna-be prankster, or the slightly nervous faces of a pair of giggling gossipers, she was instead met with the uneasy muttering of a confused class. A confused class who where all looking to the back of the room, instead of to their work like they were supposed to be. Curious despite herself Minerva made her way to the rear of the room.

She had of course heard of strange magical phenomena occurring before, it generally occurred in areas of high magical origin, she supposed of course that Hogwarts was one of those places, however she had never considered actually seeing it. Magical Phenomena tended to be shy, occurring in out of the way places, not in the middle of a classroom full of students.

She watched fascinated as a golden circle appeared and seemed to solidify turning to silver in the centre surrounded by a golden rim. The silver swirled and suddenly something was thrown out. It didn't take her long to identify that something as a man.

She watched uneasy as with glazed eyes he raked over the classroom…

Albus Dumbledore was currently occupying his office, really where else would the Headmaster of the most prestigious school for Witchcraft and Wizardry be found? Well there was the odd attraction to a muggle mini golf course or a trip down to Crazy Maisies Robes for the Seriously Weird but right at this moment Albus Dumbledore could be found in his office.

It was previously mentioned that Hogwarts was the most prestigious school for Witchcraft and Wizardry, correct? Yes well it just so happened that this particular school had a particular reason for being so prestigious, well that is a story for another time.

Right at this moment Albus was in his office, exactly where you would expect to find him when you have a problem, exactly where you would find him if you ever went looking for him, and exactly where he was not when it was not absolutely necessary.

The reason for Albus being in his office was one little teaching position, the most talked about position in Hogwarts History and a position most notorious to fill. That position was, is and will be the Defence Against the Dark Arts post.

Harder then ever before was it to fill, as the most prestigious school people should be jumping for the chance to teach there right? Wrong. Long before the owls even reached them educators were running for cover and barricading themselves in, the reputation was just that bad.

In front of him had his latest correspondence, a letter from his great niece Mavis twice removed, a letter from his brother Aberforth cursing his existence, you know the usual stuff but sitting on the top of the pile as yet untouched sat a letter from the Ministry.

Reluctantly he picked up the letter, letters from the Ministry these days just weren't what they used to be, that could be a side effect of having the Minister hating your guts, but really Albus didn't want to know, he had given up on the good faith of the Ministry a long time ago. He opened the letter.

Albus Dumbledore forlornly surveyed the parchment just sent to him by the Ministry of Magic, this parchment unlike those usually sent by the Ministry of Magic was unusually short, for this was not some longwinded obscure Ministry document filled to the brim with Ministry jargon that one could never truly understand, no this was a list, a list of prospective teachers to fill the Defence Against the Dark Arts post.

For once in his life Albus Dumbledore was at a loss, he simply could not find a replacement for his previous Defence teacher Sirius Black, granted Black was not the best of teachers, in fact he was more an anti-Professor, more of a student than a teacher but any teacher was better than no teacher at all, Sirius had left at the end of last year, after the continued tensions between himself and the Minster of Magic also known as his best friend James Potter reached unprecedented levels. Of course that was not the reason Sirius had given in his resignation but that was really to be expected, after all why would Sirius tell the truth when he could lie? But that wasn't it either, Sirius though bitter had never really blamed Albus the way that his best friends had, and had probably done it to save Albus the pain. Not that it worked. It was a well known fact that James Potter loathed Albus Dumbledore with a passion, and although Albus could not do a thing about it blamed him for his sons death. James Potter hated Albus Dumbledore with a passion and if he could he would have had him relinquish his post as Headmaster a long time ago.

However apart from the usual depressing stiff formality of Ministry letters these days it also contained rather depressing contents.

The list was short, so short in fact he was surprised they even bothered to send the thing.

Apart from the quantity of the people on the list however there was also a shortage of quality, not to mention availability. Every single one of these people he had already contacted, every single one had one or several excuses why not to.

Gilderoy Lockhart - blundering idiot who steals the credit for other peoples work; currently doing a photo shoot in Barbados and quote "would never work in such an unattractive castle ever again unless his publicist could have a suite fit for a Lord, he a suite fit for a King and his photographer allowed free reign of the castle..."

He was totally unsuitable and also unavailable...

Remus Lupin was working for the ministry and was happy with his current position as a werewolf liaison officer. Remus also had a young daughter, something difficult if not impossible to work around, in this school at least.

Hetty Hornsworth has a grudge against Minerva so bad that when Minerva failed her in the third year she had sent letters for weeks baring all manners of horrible curses, hexes and generally anything that would do damage. Not that she admitted it of course. There was also the fact that the position favoured Gyrffindors for some reason or another, they seemed to last longer. The position was definitely not for a Slytherin. Thus Hetty too was out of the picture, if indeed she had ever been in the picture in the first place.

Sirius Black the former DADA Professor quit at the end of last year to take up an Auror post in some tropical paradise and was supremely enjoying himself, thankyou very much, Albus had of course rolled his eyes at this response, typical Sirius as he knew for a fact that his wife Melody Black was pregnant and was making him stay at home, very short leash she had on him Melody Black, there was also the little detail of trying to stay in James good books.

And so ended the extremely short list of DADA Professors the ministry had sent over.

Whatever was he going to do?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry was in shock, but he would not let it show, he must not show emotion, emotion could be read and used against you still…whatever Harry had been expecting when he had taken the plunge into the portal, it was Minerva McGonagall's Transfiguration Classroom, not the Transfiguration classroom, not with people in it, certainly not with this amount of people in it and most importantly not with Minerva McGonagall in it.

OK all things considered he thought he was taking this quite well, quite well indeed.

To some people it may have crossed their minds that when jumping through an unknown magical manifestation otherwise known as the portal, you just might end up somewhere unexpected, hell you may even end up dead, hence in a room full of dead people. Harry however was not one of them, and although given time he may have considered the easy way out, it would have only been a momentary lack of judgement, Harry despite his recent antics on the battlefield, and his increasingly morbid thoughts Harry did not yet want to die. Key word being yet.

One thing Harry was sure of from all his time with Dumbledore was that he wanted Harry to LIVE like he had to be able to enjoy life, so therefore it had not entered his mind upon entering the portal that he might not be alive when he reached the other side. Hence shock since it seemed that was exactly what had seemed to happen.

Dumbledore had often asked him what he would do after the war, had encouraged him to keep up his hopes for a normal life, well as normal as it could ever be for him, Albus had been one of the few remanets of his former life that gave him hope to start a new one, after the curtains fell and Voldemort was defeated if he ever was, but Albus's instructions had been clear, to go through the golden something or other, he had never really finished but the natural assumption was that what ever Albus had wanted to say, it had to do with the portal after all how often did a golden portal pop up out of nowhere after you had just killed one of the most evil beings ever to have existed? he had certainly not expected to meet dead people on the other side of said portal.

Yet as confused as he was, he knew. Not everything is as it seems.

Unbidden his hands made their ways to rest on the hilts of his daggers.

He had found that daggers were a most efficient means of defence, in a close range situation, that is…

It had been necessary during the war to come up with attack methods other than magic, especially when the muggles became involved, sometimes muggle methods could be just as effective as magic, if not more so, magic was just so unpredictable when used in battle.

He subtly moved himself into a defensive stance; he would not attack unless provoked.

He was confused, that much he could admit to himself. Things may not be as they seem.

Minerva she had moved the students behind her, towards the door.

Harry nearly laughed despite himself; Minerva looked so scared never before in all his life had he seen Minerva so openly well scared.

It amused him to no end that he was the one that had finally terrified McGonagall, McGonagall who had faced her death without a pinch of fear and here she was scared of him.

It would of course amuse him a great deal greater if he could figure out what the bloody hell was going on!

A quailing Minerva what was the world coming to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione looked up from the tactical maps of the monitoring station; the station had been a joint effort, with Ron. He had always been so much better at operating it than she was but since his death she had been forced to give up her place on the field. It wasn't a reflection on her skill or anything it was just that she was the only one trusted enough, trusted and skilled enough to have access to such a complex and important tool. She supposed that given time they could have found and trained someone else to operate the device but that was one of the many things they did not have. Time. And so here she was the only person left on their side, apart from Harry. Who knew how to operate the damn thing. It was not really a good thing that only two people knew how to truly operate this, the most important tool they had for this type of warfare.

The battle was over, the enemy was decimated, and Harry was missing.
Hermione looked once again at the tactical map, which showed the positions of the field witches and wizards willing Harry to reappear, already she had had several reports stating that Harry had disappeared through a great golden light thing, the same time he had disappeared from the map.

'It hasn't been long' she thought, 'there's still a chance he'll be alright' the battle had finished quite some time ago and many had already left to begin the celebrations, but Hermione had remained watching Harry on the other hand had remained watching Harry.

Unfortunately Harry had chosen to disappear after the remaining soldiers had left to celebrate and what little were left were all out looking for him. Hermione really hoped this was an unusual circumstance that the reason Harry had left the map was because he apparated or something, not the reason thousands of other had disappeared that day.

She couldn't stand to be the only one left.

Minutes passed and Hermione's eyes never strayed from the magical map in front of her, hands clenching and unclenching hoping against hope this was not real.

Harry couldn't die.

Tears streamed down her face.

Suddenly a great golden portal opened right in front of her, she could no longer see the map, but surprisingly she COULD see through the portal, and she COULD see Harry on the other side of the portal.

Not hesitating a second, not even wondering where this mysterious phenomena had come from Hermione Granger, Tactical Commands disappeared without a trace, leaving many to wonder whether the two had left after the battle together, to start a new life.

They would never realize just how right they were.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Minerva relaxed slightly when she noticed her assailant, possible assailant she amended, moved into a defensive stance rather than an aggressive one. It was also a positive sign that his wand was not within sight, that of course was no guarantee that this man was an immediate danger.

Mind somewhat at ease, but still alert to the possible dangers she decided it was time for one of them to make a move; the students were getting restless and might do something dangerous if this was not resolved soon.

Minerva had met her fair share of dangerous people in her lifetime, fighting actively against both Voldemort and Grindelwald, she was no stranger to danger yet never before in her life had she met someone who exuded such a strong sense of power, in both magical and looks departments. This was the most dangerous person she had ever met, she could tell from his stance, the way he stood, the robes, the palpable amount of magic he was giving off. Finally she lifted her eyes to his face, and was startled by what she saw there.

Amusement.

That was either very very good or very very bad.

The very very good option stated that she had only seen that sort of twinkle in one other very powerful wizard, Albus Dumbledore.

The very very bad stated that that look of amusement means that he doesn't see you as a threat and will begin the killing and torturing whenever he damn well pleased and there was nothing she could do about it.

Needless to say she was hoping for the very very good option. However Minerva had never been one for believing the best in situations, she had always prepared for the worst.

Gathering her courage she opened her mouth willing the words to come out, and that voice had better be steady too, no way was she going to go down quivering like a duck. She was a McGonagall after all, and a Gryffindor, she had her pride.

However, though she was a McGonagall and a Gryffindor she was not stupid enough to be rude to this man, nah uh no one could ever accuse Minerva of being stupid, it just was not done.

So it was with the utmost politeness that she phrased her question.

"Who are you and wha…?"

She trailed off as she noticed get another glowing glimmer of gold behind the man…

Harry almost immediately noticed Minerva's shift in focus and he could see a reflection of the gold in her eyes, he knew this was not a desperate attempt at diversion.

Wasting not a second more Harry spun around on his heels, daggers materializing from within his robes where he had be fondling them only seconds before and shifted into attack mode.

Someone may have followed him, and there was no telling who, he had no clue how long the portal might have stayed open after he had gone through.

The daggers were his almost instantaneously in his hands. Daggers, best to use in close combat when unsure of your opponents potential. Ideally he would have liked to use his wand, less blood; it was neat and tidy and usually got the job done. However usually was the key word, many new and better shielding spells had been developed over the war and wands though useful were not everything. Daggers, Swords, Guns and other muggle weaponry were extremely useful, no matter how strong the shield it would not keep muggle weaponry out. They had tried of course, to build shields that would keep muggle weaponry out, it simply had never worked.

The reason Harry knew very well wasn't in the shield but in the weaponry, he had worked for a time as a primary researcher on the subject, not to mention working as a tester to see if it would work or not. The problem lay in the weaponry; attempts to shield yourself with magic against muggle weapons would not work for the simple reason that the weapons did not hold enough magic.

Magical shields could only work against magic, it had taken several months for the researchers after he had pointed out this fact to figure out the amount of magic a blade, gun or bullet could hold and still penetrate shields.

The amount of magic able to be used on weapons was extremely small, a sharpening charm, a strengthening charm and a cleaning charm, each only used in the smallest amounts possible, usually cast by young inexperienced novices.

It was only a small difference but it was a difference, and they had held the knowledge of knowing what the exact threshold was for over a year before the enemy had figured it out.

The portal was growing, he was growing nervous with every second that passed staying poised ready to attack anything that moved, he may have been focused on the portal at the moment but he had certainly not forgotten about the desperate teacher behind him, he had cast the strongest wandless shield he knew how as well as a proximity ward so if she shot a spell off at him while his back was turned he would not, hopefully be injured.

The portal grew to a rather large size, higher then he was tall and wide enough to cover half the back of the classroom. Rather suddenly it solidified. He shifted uneasily on his feet as he watched the portal turn shiny and silver save for the very edges which still pulsed with gold.

Harry shifted his entire attention to the portal, he knew it was dangerous to do so but what was coming out of the portal was an unknown and there were children in this room, he didn't think that Minerva would kill him, stun him for questioning maybe but although slightly dangerous what was coming out of the portal was unknown.

The silver rippled, and Harry's already tense muscles forced themselves to loosen.

He was as prepared as he was going to get. If whoever was coming through now was hostile he knew one thing. He would not be the one to lose. He would not lose. Not now.

The silver substance seemed to retract before spitting out a small feminine figure.

He remained in his stance as she, unlike him managed to land with a little more grace, not much just a little.

It was with relief he recognised her, Hermione. His lips quirked, his stance relaxed slightly, he knew he shouldn't relax yet but he couldn't help it, it was Hermione. Nevertheless he asked the question.

"Password." Was the first thing he said upon seeing who it was, keeping his voice level. It was a necessary precaution amongst the higher command on the Light Side. A necessary precaution, each of them had their own code phases changed daily and only known among each other. Seals used on Orders were blood, voice and password activated so as to protect the higher levels of command from Polyjuice Potion and similar appearance changes.

Hermione smiled wryly and calmly stated her password, "Those who live by the sword get shot by those who don't." Harry sighed, it was correct and he relaxed his posture slightly, still wary of McGonagall.

"Password Harry." She said, he wasn't in the slightest bit offended it was common practice she had to check, it was well known by the enemy that they had a password system even if they could not break into it.

"Coincidence is just a euphemism for conspiracy." He replied fluidly, and smiled the passwords they often used quotes or fragments of song for their passwords, particularly muggle songs. Voldemort was less likely to pick up on them and they were a bit of fun to take your mind off things, of how bad things were. There were also many advantages to passwords made up of song typical voice changing potions and charms used in conjunction with polyjuice could rarely duplicate the exact pitch of a singer if indeed they could mount a convincing imitation, beat and rhythm, all that nice juicy stuff. A lot could be said about singing passwords, even if Severus hated them, come to think of it, that was another advantage.

Deciding that McGonagall and the class were a small threat he decided to get Hermione's opinion on what the hell was going on. Hermione had changed a lot during the course of the war but she was still ahead of the rest when it came to academic pursuits, even if her love of the library had somewhat diminished over the years.

"Mione any idea of what that thing was?"

"A portal?" she replied innocently trying to lighten the dark mood in the room, McGonagall who she had noticed and somehow managed not to panic at the sight of was considerably on edge. Even though she had very little idea on what was going on she didn't not want to frighten innocent bystanders "Harry, Harry, Harry I would have thought you would know what a portal was by now, after all you were taught, all those times you've used them I am disappointed in you Harry."

Harry then knew she knew next to nothing, he sighed and turned to McGonagall, no, Minerva.

They were going to need more information if they hoped to figure this out.

Dropping the dangerous look as much as it was possible these days, though not the underlying dangerous demeanour, Harry put on the most polite expression he could muster. Time to ask questions. Ever since he had arrived and seen Minerva here, alive and well, he had wondered, was the one, possibly the only one who could answer their questions here? Was Albus here? That however was not the question he asked, that would be far too suspicious they had just bypassed some of the most complex wards ever made after all and with the little performance he had just put on he wouldn't be surprised if she thought him in the employ of some Dark Wizard wishing to take over the school. Nah he'd be pretty disappointed if he had only made the grade as a lackey, nah she probably thought he was the Dark Lord trying to take over, not the lackey. Smoothly and almost unnoticeably he put his daggers back into his robes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One of the many advantages of being the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was the ability to sense when something out of the ordinary was occurring within the castle. It was an ability all Headmasters of the school attained after performing a ritual that linked them to the school upon obtaining the office. The link was one of the most powerful in the world, as most of its kind had been lost hundreds of years ago, however the link fluctuated depending on the emergency of a event and the amount the castle trusted the person currently in possession of the link. Hogwarts, had been a castle mainly built on 'light' standards and by 'light' wizards it was therefore no surprise that the castle tended to favour Headmasters who were not 'dark'.

On the rare occasion that the castle had been overtaken by Dark Wizards in the past within a day the castle had found itself back in 'light' hands. Therefore it was no real surprise that Hogwarts stood as a shining beacon of Hope during Dark times.

Albus Dumbledore, current Headmaster of the illustrious school was having a sudden strong urge to go to the Transfiguration Classroom. He was not particularly worried, whatever was going on there was not a threat, at least not to the castle or the students, but the castle did want him to go there for some reason or another. He wondered what could be so important, he had overheard Minerva complaining at lunch, she had seventh year Gryffindor's this afternoon. Very curious.

The last time he had felt an urge this strong he had to save the dungeons from becoming a pile of rubble curtesy of the Weasley Twins, and subsequently save the Weasley twins from Severus Snape. Yet this was undefinable different.

He arrived to find the class huddled towards the door facing two very interesting individuals; both overflowing with power.

The first was a tall late teen, though he looked older. He frowned a little at the Battle Robes the young man wore yet at the sight of them he did not feel threatened, the castle obviously trusted him. He noticed the blood staining the robes, yet none of it seemed to be his own and the young man did not seemed bothered by this, that slightly concerned him but he put it out of his mind and continued to study the young man. It was curious, the way power seemed to flow off this man, in waves, yet the waves were not threatening and they were very well controlled. The young man reminded him of someone, he just could not put his finger on whom…

The young man's companion was female; her clothing flattered her, she wore a black leather waist coat and black dress pants, her hair pulled back into a loose bun that allowed for a few curly strands of hair to fall out here and there like she had not the time to properly put them in place. Both looked the young people looked extremely weary, yet they seemed prepared for whatever would happen. The young woman also exuded a strong magical signature, no where near her companions but strong all the same, in fact the signature strongly reminded him of one of his recent pupils Hermione Granger, yet it was essentially different and somewhat stronger.

He arrived just in time to hear the young man in a very diplomatic tone of voice "I was wondering if we could speak with the person in charge here? We are really quite lost at the moment…" he trailed off, obviously unsure of what else to say.

Albus wondered how exactly they had arrived in the Transfiguration classroom, after a few nasty attacks from strong Ministry supporters he had warded the castle so that port-key travel would not work, the only way in now was through Floo in his office or through the Front Gates or the Forest, both warded to alert him of any comings or goings. All passageways in or out of the castle that he knew of were watched, and well it was baffling, the Transfiguration Classroom was so far from anywhere…

Minerva cut him off, "That would be Headmaster Dumbledore, I will escort you if you wish…" clearly with the underlying meaning that 'if you wish' meant 'you have little choice in the matter'.

Deciding that that was his cue he decided to but in, usually he would just make his way back up to his office and wait for them to arrive but these people were very interesting and he meant to figure out at least some of the puzzle they presented, preferably as soon as possible.

"No need Minerva, No need, I am already here and who are these two fascinating young people?"