Sorry for not posting for a while. Thankyou for those of you who reviewed and a double thankyou for those of you who e-mailed me to try to get me to write more. I'd like to recommend the absolutely amazing 'Conspiracy of Silence' series written by Nomad, which I might add are all finished, all seven of them. They are without a doubt the best fanfiction has to offer. That's all really.

She passed the painting of the dancing triplets and then turned right and walked up a very small and very dingy spiral staircase, that unless you knew it was there you would completely miss it. The child, Harry, stirred in her arms. They'd stayed out by the lake til the stars started to come out. No-one was hungry as they'd ate a hearty lunch and picket at the picnic all afternoon anyway. At the top of the staircase there was a very large wooden door. Sybil Trelawney pushed it open and entered her rooms. Against popular belief, Sybil didn't live in the Divination tower, for as long as Hogwarts had had a divination teacher, said teacher had always stayed in this room. It was located in a very small tower, so insignificant that many students wouldn't even be able to recall its existence. Yet inside the tower was far from insignificant. The ceiling was so far up that you couldn't even see it as it disappeared into the darkness. There was only one very small and star shaped window that was perpetually left open to allow in air and 'spirits.' On the walls of the room were writings in all different languages and pictures that told long forgotten stories. In the middle of the room there was a large, round mahogany table, with hundereds of different sized and different shaped drawers. And on that table, sat on a little golden pedastle was a crystal ball, but this was not just an ordinary crystal ball as it glowed brightly. So brightly that it lit the room and the pictures and writings on them as if it was day itself. On one side of the room there sat an old rickety patchwork bed with an old falling apart bed side table that held some falling apart books. As Harry stirred further from his sleep and took in the room, it occred to him that this lady had made little impact on this room and that the bed and bed stand was the only part of the room that could be called home. The divination classroom however was a different story. She laid him on the bed, pulled the soft and comfortable covers over him and said goodnight. After whispering a few words the crystal dimmed and Sybil sat on the floor. It was the thought that Minerva would like this room if she ever saw it that sent him quickly off into a peaceful sleep filled with ginger cats, dragons, teacups and paisley cushions.

            Harry woke to the blood curdling scream of Trelawney at about seven thirty in the morning. Aparently he'd had a little growth spurt infront of her eyes and had scared her senseless. Not, of course as senseless as he was while being screamed at, at seven thirty in the morning. But before he could back away she snatched him and began running full speed down the spiral staircase, past the painting of the dancing triplets and onward bound to the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey, ever the early riser, was just making note of what potions she was low on when a disgruntled Sybil Trelawney burst through the doors. I say disgruntled, but what I mean more is very disgruntled, perhaps even downright hysterical, frenzied, panic-stricken, distraught and even scared senseless. Her breathing was irratic, her clothes were creased, her hair was a mess and tears were streaking down her cheeks.

            "Whatever is the matter?" It was then that Poppy Pomfrey noticed the equally scared child in sybils arms.

            "It's Harry. He just. He just grew." With that she put harry on one of the beds and sat down on the next one at a loss with what to do. Poppy didn' know who needed her attention more. Harry or Sybil? So she muttered a few reassurances to the elder of the two and focused on the yonger, he as five after all, Sybil was a fully grown woman. A few minutes later she'd determined that Harry was perfectly healthy, just bigger. In her esteemed and professional opinion he'd aged a considerable amount in just a few seconds. She considered this a good sign, perhaps he'll quite quickly reach his normal age? Yet, emotionally he was in much the same state as he'd been a few moments before and showed no sign of calming down. He wasn't crying or anything like that, which surprised Poppy as that was what she expected a five year old to do. Infact she couldn't recall ever seeing him cry. But he was clutching his knees and rocking backwards and forwards whilst whispering that he was sorry. This was not good. Luckily, right then, as if he knew what was going on, Albus Dumbledore peeked his head around the infirmary door.

            "May I come in?" He enquired, ever aware that Poppy liked to shoo visitors away. With a nod indicating it was alright, he approached the bed. "Hello Harry, I've been looking all over for you. I thought you might want this." With that said he brandished Foo-foo Jr from behind his back and shook it temptingly infront of the childs face in a poor imitation of it being alive. Harry seemed to lighten up and murmered 'Foo-foo' in quiet wonderment before grabbing it and cuddling it fiercly to himself. Then, to Dumbledore's great happiness he smiled. Meanwhile Poppy had been busying herself by casting a cheering charm on the divination professor.

            Harry sat as usual at Minerva's feet during breakfast. After Harry had been placated Poppy shared with Albus her theory whilst Trelawney apologised for screaming by giving Harry one of her many jangly bracelets. All was well, as well as it should be…except?

Thus ends the eighth, very short instalment.

I apologise its size, but its late and a very good point to end it for now. Mainly it was to let everyone know that I'm continuing the story after the long wait. I'm afraid thought, that I've forgotten a little of what I was going to do, but instead I have some really good new ideas. Have fun…Em.x