Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Mass Effect. They both belong to J.K. Rowling and BioWare respectively. Nor do I make any profit from this. This is just for the sheer entertainment value and to let my imagination run wild.

Chapter 4: Training for the Future

Harry gave a small inaudible grunt as he landed on his cot, his body sore from the intense workout that he had endured during the first few weeks of physical exercises that he and his fellow recruits had to go through. The only silver lining about the whole affair was that he wasn't the only one suffering from sore muscles and a bruised ego, as many of the recruits, even the ones whom had been preparing themselves for years for the moment to serve, had been unprepared for the brutality of it all.

Aside from that, Harry had been slowly trying to learn the art of wandless magic, not an easy feat, but he was limited in options Malfoy's wand had been snapped during his confrontation with the batarians a little over three months ago, and with no access to a wand shop, or any real clue as to where the magical world could possibly be now in a galaxy that is easily traveled with aliens and technology beyond the scope of what he believed to be possible during his time, he had no other choice but to try and learn this unique ability.

In truth, he had no idea to the workings of wandless magic, and only had the fact that children suffered from bouts of accidental magic, which was at often times, focused magical feats that a child would instinctively use as a means to save themselves from danger, or anything that caused true emotional problems for them.

He could vividly remember the times that he had suffered injuries from his relatives' abuses, bruises with the occasional fractured or broken bone, which would heal up overnight, or the fact that he had grown back his hair after his aunt had badly cut it. Other examples included the time he turned his teacher's hair purple, (or was it blue?), when she had been unnecessarily cruel to him, or when he had transported himself to the roof of the school when Dudley and his friends decided to play Harry Hunting…

He believed that the process was more or less the same, and that a wand merely created a focus point to use his magic at whatever time he wished. Maybe owning a wand wasn't exactly necessary to the use of magic, but it undoubtedly made the ability to wield it that much easier. Or so he thought anyway. Theory was never his forte, as he was more inclined to learn something from actually doing it rather than reading and talking about it. That's how it worked for him at Hogwarts anyway…

Regardless, progress was slow going. Knowing that the more complicated spells probably wouldn't work, Harry had tried for the simpler ones first. So far, he had only managed to get the Lumos charm to work, and even then it just was a small bead of light at the end of his index finger. E.T jokes came to mind, a film he watched once at Ms. Figgs while the Dursleys had been out, though considering the era he now found himself in, found them to be a bit…tasteless. Unsatisfied with his progress, Harry was reluctant to try anything else until he managed to get the Lumos spell as equally as powerful as when he used it with a wand. In fact, he was determined to do so, seeing as he now knew he had a talent for wandless magic, and was going to do anything in his power to nurture this ability to full bloom.

A tiring exercise perhaps, especially in addition to his Alliance training, but a worthwhile one.

'Still', Harry would silently muse to himself, 'it's a lot better than the training regime that Wood would put me and the others through, especially during his final year before the Tri-Wizard tournament…'

These thoughts caused a sense of nostalgia to resonate in the young wizard's heart, and as he did for many a night since his arrival into the future, spent the night thinking about his time at Hogwarts, his friends, and all the good memories that were found there, before falling into the grasps of his more terrible memories in the form of nightmares as he lulled into the waiting arms of sleep.

Miranda Lawson watched in a disinterested fashion as reports filled her screen about her latest assignment, a standard information retrieval mission. The target was high profile, being a former member of the Salarian STG. It was very well known and established that the STG made routine hacks against the Alliance Navy Intelligence, and that the Alliance only caught a few handful of those attempts. Any attempted on their side was easily thwarted. Going to the Council to this was not something Alliance Parliament was willing to do, as it reflected badly on humanity and their inability to keep up with the Salarians. That, and the Alliance had no knowledge of what the Salarian's may have dug up from their routine hacks, and what they could possible reveal to the public as a whole. The Alliance was already in an undercover attempt to recover nuclear bombs that they had sent off through the relays during the First Contact War with the turians, as if word of what the Alliance did spread to the rest of the Citadel Council, it would greatly embarrass them and reduce their already tremulous standing.

It was one of the primary reasons that Cerberus was tasked with finding this former STG Operative, and using his knowledge to level the playing field. The only issue with the assignment was the fact that she, Miranda herself, had been designated as squad leader of the operation, something that most, if not all of her team were aghast to hear. Still, despite this setback, Miranda was confident that she would succeed with her mission, already calculating the risks involved and numbering the estimated causalities that would come from such an operation. Regardless, this was not what occupied her mind at the moment. No, her thoughts were centered on a young, raven-haired man whom she had not seen in nearly a month, and was reluctant to admit was missing his presence.

After spending nearly three months teaching him, interacting with him, and still holding a great deal of gratitude for his part in helping her escape with Oriana, her baby sister, from their tyrannical father, Miranda could only grimace when she came to the conclusion that somewhere down the line she had become…emotionally invested, in him. It was nothing something that she was exactly proud of, but she blamed that more on her father's influence of forming attachments to others as a weakness. Another part of her, the more rebellious side, cheered at the preserved connection that she and Harry shared, justifying it as a means of getting back at her father, as petty as it sounded.

However, when it came down to it, Miranda Lawson was always ruled by her rational, logic, and facts. Matters of the heart were inconsequential, though she had found herself missing the companionship that Harry and given her the last few months as they had stayed at the colony of Terra Nova, where they had hidden themselves away to, par the Illusive Man's orders, though as far as Harry knew, it was because Miranda's father had tracked her down to the Citadel.

Still, her mind ordered her to do away all contact with Harry, at least for the present moment, and focus on the mission ahead. She understood the need to stay focused, to clear away all distractions.

So why was it so hard to stop thinking about the damnable boy?

Narrowing her eyes at the screen in front of her, Miranda was tempted to open up a private comm. channel and contact Harry, or perhaps leave him a private message before her ship's VI program gave the three minute warning mark before exiting the relay. Her posture going rigid, and clearing away the opened message box she had activated, Miranda began last minute preparations for her latest assignment.

All with the thought of emerald green eyes staring into her own.

It had been nearly two months since Harry's arrival onto Acturus Station with his fellow recruits, and currently he was in the food court, contemplating the last near two months since his enlistment. Things in regards to his Alliance Training, as well as wandless magic were progressing rather better than he expected. In terms of his socializing with his fellow recruits however…

Harry never really considered the ramifications that the life he had lead would have on his ability to communicate and relate to others. An abusive childhood since he was a year old until the moment he learned he was a wizard, which honestly only stopped the physical aspects of the abuse in fear of retaliation, Harry had never had a friend before in his life. His first real friend was a rather simpleminded and very trusting half-giant that had more or less been ordered by his boss to pick him up, despite how happily he was to do so. His second friend was a snow white owl that acted more like a person then a pet, and his third friend was more or less a jealous and insecure boy with confidence issues, his fourth friend in turn being an overconfident and bossy know-it-all who spent more time with books then actual people and couldn't be faster to side with a teacher on any issue. And that was only the first three months after his eleventh birthday. The next several years had been nothing but death traps after death traps, lies and deceit by people that he had believed he could trust, war, as well as the death of cherished loved ones whom Harry had more than once on occasion gone out of his way to help save, but got nothing in return for his efforts, be it support or love…

As a result, a courageous, if not borderline martyr, anti-social, slightly insecure, and mistrusting young man was left in place of what should have been a confident, happy, and loved persona. Having these troubling experiences helped Harry into the person he was today, but left him unable to relate to his fellow classmates whom lacked these very same experiences.

Most came from average family life that saw the Alliance as either a means to rebel against their parents, or as a means to learn some new skills that would better serve them in life and open doors to them in terms of careers. Few came from families who had members of their house already in the Alliance, and was merely keeping up an aged old tradition. Some would leave the service as soon as their time was up, others would remain for the rest of their lives. Even fewer were from colonies out in the traverse, which lost friends and family to the cruelty of hostile races and slavers, and joined up as a means to an end of finding their killers and exacting a vengeance that blackened and ruled their hearts.

Harry fit into none of those categories, and was as a result ostracized from his fellow recruits. While at times lonely, Harry persevered. He had spent many of his days alone in silent contemplation during his journey to destroy Voldemort, especially during the time in which Ron and Hermione would whisper behind his back about their lack of progress during that time, despite knowing that he knew just as much as they did in regards to the information Dumbledore gave them.

Even several months later, and in a future where both his friends were dead, it still angered Harry more then he cared to admit when he thought about how little faith his two supposed 'best friends' had in them. At the time, he blamed it on the Horcrux that was still imprisoned within Slytherin's locket, but after learning that he himself was a horcrux, and had been one since he was a year old, he stopped making excuses for them and accepted the truth of the matter.

He had blinded himself to their faults. While they had stood generally through everything that had ever been thrown at him, both Ron and Hermione had their doubts and made betrayals, Ron more so then Hermione. His insecurities in making friends had led him to simply paint both his friends in such glowing lights that it took Ron several and very severe acts of selfishness as well as stupidity before Harry forcibly was made to see how petty the youngest Weasely male really was.

Hermione was a similar matter as after all the times he had declared Snape as no good; a vile and truly despicable man, it took the murder of Dumbledore for her to see that. Even with the knowledge that he had loved his mother and had grown bitter and jealous at his father for gaining her heart, and that years spent under Dumbledore's thumb had been a means to make amends to her memory, it still sickened Harry that Snape truly believed that protecting him would truly redeem himself, especially considering it was his own fault why his mother broke their friendship off, and furthermore, why his parents were dead in the first place. And despite all that, Hermione still felt a iota of sympathy for the man. Adding her constant nagging him to do better in school, and when he did, admittedly with the help of Snape's edited works, she threw a fit. It was hypocritical of her, and it served as one of the main jarring points of their frizzled sixth year, at least on his side of the fence.

A part of him missed them, and always would, but only the times during their youth, their first year specifically, when the troubles of Voldemort were more along the lines of an adventure rather life or death, where war was simply a topic discussed in history, and where Harry's biggest concern was whether or not he was going to get his Transfiguration essay done by Friday with the required twelve inches of parchment length.

Regardless, that was the past, (literally) and Harry had a new future to look forward too. An admittedly lonely future, but a future nonetheless.

It also didn't help that Harry had made an enemy with one recruit in particular, named Ayden Wayne, an up and coming recruit whom had family that served with the Alliance since its inception back in 2149, whom beforehand served the American military for countless generations before that.

Arrogant, pigheaded, and living off the former glory of his ancestors, he reminded Harry of a particular blond haired pounce back at Hogwarts, who ended up growing up to be a coward who couldn't fight his own battles and relaying on his parents for safety.

The fact that he had nearly killed two of his friends that last year he was at Hogwarts, and had planned on killing the man whom Harry had considered his grandfather was just the last transgressions that the miserable ferret had done to him, but were by far the worst.

Ayden, reminded him to much of him, and likewise, the boy, just as Draco had, became fixated on him, and used every moment he had to make Harry's life a living hell.

Used to such attempts, but with no magic to back the overgrown child's jeering, and having instructors and military nearby in the event that a fight broke out, Harry more or less ignored him, and didn't respond to the boy's taunts of having no family, wearing glasses (which was going to be rectified once he was given a gene therapy package of his choosing based on what career path he wished to serve in), and the odd lightning bolt scar, which even in the future, doctors told him they would not be able to remove for reasons that baffled them. Amusingly enough, Ayden had adequately called him by the every annoying nickname of 'scar head', which only caused Harry on a number of occasions to nearly call him Malfoy. In perfect honesty, if he bleached his hair blond, got his eyes to turn grayish blue, and got his nose to be slightly more acute, in addition to paler skin, he'd look a lot like Malfoy.

Aside from those little details, Ayden's attempts to ostracize him had for the most part been successful. Not that most of the people who associated themselves with Ayden actually liked the prick, but because he had connections in the Alliance, connections that they one day hoped to use in their favor. He actually felt more pity towards the Malfoy in everything but appearance and name, as he actually believed that they liked him for who he was, and not for what he could offer them. It was going to be one hell of a rude awakening when he realized what they really were all about when their true nature comes out into the open…

He broke from his thoughts, as well as his rather halfhearted attempts to cast the Patronus Charm. At the moment, all he seemed to be doing was creating a thin small mist, no larger than his palm, though the previous night he had actually managed to create a rather transparent shield, similar to what he had first cast during his lessons with Professor Lupin back during his third year with the trapped boggart.

Turning his attention to his front, Harry was pleasantly surprised to find a pair of fellow recruits before him, each carrying a lunch tray. Female, the two of them, they were dressed in the standard Alliance fatigues. One was tall and slender, though a fair bit of muscle showed that she was not to be trifled with, nor easily dismissed as a threat. With short shoulder length black hair held up by a green bandana, she had olive skin and light brown eyes. She wore no visible makeup from what Harry could see, though it did not detract her beauty. She had a mischievous glint in her eyes, as well as a small playful smile on her lips, which immediately put Harry at ease for some reason. The other however, was a bit on the opposite side of the spectrum. Shorter in comparison to her female counterpart, she had dark red hair, short as well, though it ended at the nape of her neck, with similarly green colored eyes as his own. She had pale white skin, and on her right arm was a tattoo of a bird in the middle of a circle, a bit of its skeleton showing. Like her friend, she also had a fair bit of muscles lining her form, showing that she kept herself in top shape, and that she could likely do some damage in a fight. Although she similarly had a small smile on her face, her eyes showing a glint of mischievousness, they also held a hardness to them, one that Harry knew all too well as he stared at similar eyes everyday whenever he looked into a mirror.

Remembering his manners, Harry hastily stood up and introduced himself; though he had a bit of a stutter to his words as he had accidently knocked his tray astray, spilling some of its contents on the table. He flushed slightly as he heard one of the girls giggle, whom turned out to be the black haired one, while the one with red hair smile only grew at his embarrassment.

"Uh…sorry about that. My names Harry, Harry Potter. Is there something that I can do for you?"

While his social skills were a tad lacking, he still remembered the enforced politeness that his aunt had forced him to learn, in addition to etiquette during his youth when he had been allowed to sit at the table whenever Vernon had important clients over. This of course being before Harry started to show bursts of accidental magic, in which case he had been forbidden to accompany them to the table, and instead locked away in his cupboard. It had been the only time that Harry ever got a full meal, and had been more concerned with eating than anything else, though he made sure to answer any questions directed to him at the time with the same politeness, if not more so, then Dudley showed at the time with whatever prearranged responses that Vernon had threatened to beat him over if he failed to recall.

Giggling again at his behavior, the girl took a seat across from him, her friend doing the same beside her before outstretching her hand, shaking Harry's after he had extended his own and introducing herself.

"Nice to meet you Harry. The names Samantha Byrne, though Sam will just be fine. No one else calls me Samantha aside from my mum, and to be perfectly honest, it's a bit of a mouthful."

Nodding his head slightly, Harry retook his seat before directing his eyes to the other woman at his table, noting how she seemed a bit more reluctant to introduce herself, though after an elbow to her ribs a bit of a nudge of her head from Sam, she crossed arms over her chest before giving Harry a bit of a tight smile, if not slightly apologetic.

"Sorry. Really not into the whole meeting new people thing. Names Alex though, Alex Brand. Nice to meet you Harry."

Returning the smile, and shaking her hand as well, Harry said, "Not a problem. It's a pleasure to meet you both, Sam. Alex."

And just like that, Harry after nearly two months, made his first two friends, whom like those others that he had made in his short life, would hold a special place in his heart.

It was the fourth month mark since Harry began basic training, and nearly two months since he had made his new friends in the form of Alex and Samantha, and then later their mutual friend Nathaniel Crowe, who was a decent bloke, if not a tad bit more serious in his demeanor. It was later revealed to him that his father was the Captain of his own frigate in the Alliance, and that he had high exceptions of his son. He was flourishing now in class, ignoring the taunts of Ayden, and responding back on occasion with dry wit and a veiled insult, something he had been learning from Sam and Alex respectively, though Alex's ranged a little on the vulgar side. He had surprisingly grown close the girls, close enough that he started to share parts of his life, except censored so as not to reveal his magical abilities, and to keep up with his fake background. They did sympathize with him, and he in turn learned a little about their lives.

Sam came from a military family, though it was on her father's side. He had been a career solider before the Alliance's creation, and had been offered the opportunity to join due to his career service. She had only been two years old at the time, and she seldom saw her father. Her mother worked as a liaison between the Alliance and the governments of Earth, a tiring and stressful job that often lead her and Sam to moving around a lot, never staying in city or country for more than a few months. When the First Contact War hit, her father had been sent to the frontlines, where he had died during the liberation effort on Shanxi. Her mother had been devastated by the news, but had soldiered on, much like Sam had. She didn't have any friends while growing up, and due to her father's constant absence, and her mother's demanding job, was often teased due to their lack of interest in her life. Her accent didn't help her, as she sounded very aggressive when she spoke, and her tomboyish attitude and the fact that she kept her hair short instead of long like most girls her age, only reinforced the image that she was a girl trying to be like a boy. The fact that she could actually hit harder than most boys only made the teasing worse. It wasn't until she meet Alex did she find a kindred spirit, and from there, one of her closest and dearest friends. At the age of eighteen, she enlisted into the Alliance, much to her mother's ire, and the rest as they say, is history.

Alex on the other hand, lived a much harder life. Born in the slums of Earth, more specifically New York City, she spent a great deal of her time taking abuse, physically, mentally, and emotionally from her father who couldn't hold onto a job to save his life, and a mother whom had walked out on her and her abusive husband. Where she was, Alex never found out, nor cared to look. She abandoned her to abusive father, and at most times as she recalled, never tried to stop it. In fact, Alex believed that the woman pretended it didn't happen, or simply ignored it, until eventually she couldn't stand it anymore and simply left, uncaring of what would happen to her. Her father didn't notice their mother's absence at first, but when he did, would start to blame her for it. Alex however, strong willed for a child, and even then, a child under constant abuse, laid it right back at him, calling him useless, a drunk, incompetent to hold the simplest of jobs, an ill provider, and a violent bastard. She went as far to say that her mother probably left him for another man who could actually take care of her. Those were her exact words, and she had said them at the age of ten.

The beating she had received had left her in the hospital for months, but it had been well worth it she had thought at the time, and still did when prompted.

Her father had gone to prison for child abuse, and she sent to the foster care system, something that Harry himself had been threatened to be thrown into as a child by his uncle to install a sense of fear into him, especially when he gave detailed horror stories of the horrible things that went on in there. Listening to Alex's description of the place made Harry realize that maybe his uncle's stories, which he had believed as he attended Hogwarts were probably exaggerated, and more than a bit of truth to them.

Alex had been forced into three different homes in the timeframe of five months, and had stayed in the fourth one for about a year before the foster parents, already strapped for cash and unable to deal with the large number of children they already had on hand, had been forced to give her up. It had been her favorite place out of all the homes she had been too, and recalled fondly that one of her best memories were the times that Maria, her foster mother, would make a large stack of blueberry pancakes just for the two of them.

After that, she had been forced into the home of a couple whom on the outside were the perfect match made in heaven, while on the inside were just as devious and vile as her father. She just didn't know how vile they were until she turned twelve and hit puberty, and started to develop.

She had been raped by the husband, and then later by his friends, whom the wife pimped her out too to gain a little extra cash on the side to continue her and her husband's habit of dousing themselves with red sand, a new drug running in the streets that were rumored to give one biotic abilities. Those events under normal circumstances would have traumatized any woman, let alone an adolescent girl, but Alex persevered, and started to train her body into shape. She even managed to get a part-time job working in vehicle repair, in which she spent her money on taking self-defense classes. She spent as little time at 'home' as possible, and whenever she did, locked her room shut, using a self-made security lock that she only knew the pass code too.

For two years, she managed to avoid her foster parent's attempts to take advantage of her body, at times not coming home for days at a time, instead sleeping in at abandoned shops or rundown warehouses, and at others, if she could afford it, at small time motels. It all came to end however one night when she had come home, exhausted from a late night at the shop, and had forgotten to lock down her door. Her foster father had snuck in, and had attempted to rape her once more. This time however, she had two years of muscle development, as well as martial arts training. Having the element of surprise on her side, she managed to brutalize her foster father until her foster mother heard the commotion and called the police. The evidence was damning as she was covered in blood from the wounds she had inflicted, while her foster father was in a near comatose state. It wasn't until Alex revealed her past rapes, in addition to the stashes of red sand that her foster parents had hidden did they give any credence to her cries of innocent. They were tried and sent to prison, for twenty years to life, and Alex, not wanting to go to another foster house and possibly be subjected to the same fate, fought for emancipation. Once she proved that she was working, and could take care of herself, did the judge grant her claim. She had later meet Sam, whom was a bike enthusiast, and needed work done on her own. They became friends, a first for Alex, and when Sam decided to join the Alliance, she dragged Alex along with her, which she only agreed to due to a lack of future prospects, as she never focused on school as a priority, but didn't want to work the rest of her life repairing broken-down vehicles.

Harry empathized with both Alex and Sam, knowing what it was like to have abusive relatives, and being ostracized from a community and group of peers for small unimportant details. He swore to protect them and aid them to the best of his ability, and that he would never betray the trust they placed in him, revealing their darker secrets and pasts.

In a separate piece of news, Harry had discovered after months of searching the extranet, had finally gained some information on the magical world.

Dufftown, the small industrial city that he and Miranda had escaped towards after being surrounded by Blue Sun mercenaries, was actually not very far from where Hogwarts had been situated. It was also where his godfather when he had been on the run had been last sighted before he had arrived that night he attacked the Fat Lady's Portrait. He did some investigating, and found out that around 2133, the castle had been discovered, decrypt and devoid of life, looking for all intents and purposes as if it was about to collapse in on itself. Harry had looked at a few pictures of the castle, and felt a piece of his heart shatter at the terrible and heart wrenching condition the once fabled castle had found itself in. Several of its towers no longer present, having either caved in within the castle itself or having fallen off into the caverns below. The bridge once connecting it to the grounds and Forbidden Forest was no longer present, its remains alluding to what had once been there. Its windows broken or boarded up, its once sturdy walls in disrepair and in ruin, the once beautiful and magnificent castle was dead, the magic feeding it having long ago disappeared, its last protection from the outside world, the Wards itself, after more than twelve centuries, had finally collapsed.

For two years, the British government and its monarchy had argued what to do with the castle. There had been some talk of restoring it, of studying it and converting into a museum of sorts. Others had claimed it belonged to the royal family, and as such, private property. In the end, both arguments were mute points as one Henry Lawson, a rich, intelligent, entrepreneur and scientist had made a bid to buy the land. After two years of constant court battles, it was decided by the British Legislation that with no real historical value, and no links to the royal family, that the government could not legally claim the land one way or another. In 2135, Henry Lawson had destroyed the castle and rebuilt his deluxe mansion upon Hogwart's desecrated remains, improving upon it with each passing year. Upon the discovery of the Prothean Ruins on Mars, it became nothing more than a footnote on the daily holonet news.

On a completely separate note, he noted a space expedition that had taken place in 2070, and had gotten an image of the crew that had lead the launch, in addition to some of its passengers.

One in particular stood out amongst the others.

While to others nothing about this particular person stood out, she had immediately captured Harry's attention. White hair that had at one point been blonde, a face once youthful and clear of blemishes of any sort, now adorned with wrinkles and spots significant to her age, and her eyes, grey in color as they had always been, but now clouded and misty, an obvious sign of blindness. Harry imagined the woman seventy-two years younger, and couldn't help but smile sadly, yet happily at having recognized, while not a close friend as Ron or Hermione, a young woman whom had stood by him and always, even in the most bizarre of ways and ludicrous circumstances, managed to uplift his spirits.

He also found it slightly amusing that at the age of eighty-nine, she still wore a necklace made entirely out of butter beer corks and radish earrings.

Though the woman was undoubtedly dead by this time, it was nice to know that, based off the information he had been able to gleam from the article, that she had lived a full life with a husband and children. It also brought up the slight hope that somewhere out in the galaxy was a planet with potential magic users. Though the expedition has since been declared MIA, and after nearly a century missing, that any hope of finding the original crew and the ship itself was a false one, Harry knew better. With a ship of at least one magical user, and one of Luna Scamander nee-Lovegood caliber, then there was strong possibility that they made it to wherever their destination may have been, alive and well. It also gave him the hope that while perhaps the magical world still existed even now, but undoubtedly stretched far beyond the boundaries of Earth, that he would eventually find them.

His current reasoning still stood, that he may somehow find a way back to his time, but lately, he wasn't so sure of what was driving him now.

If he somehow managed to find a way to travel back to his own time, Harry wasn't entirely sure he'd take the chance. Thoughts of Sam, Alex, Nathaniel, and even Miranda, would come to mind, and for a brief moment, would feel an intense sinking in his chest down to the bottom of his stomach, if not somewhat similar to what he felt when he believed for the briefest of moments, that Hermione had been killed in the Department of Mysteries.

With that in mind, Harry came to a startling conclusion.

He wasn't sure if he wanted to go back.

Six months.

That's how long it's been since Harry arrived at the doors of Arcturus Station and enlisted into the Alliance. Nine months since his accidental time travel into the future, and the start of his new life in a galaxy he barely understood. Nerve-wracking, Harry had done what he had always done when faced with adversity in any form.

He charged it head-on.

While the first initial months of his training had been less than ideal, he had persevered, made friends, and even graduated top of his class, a feat that during his previous life would have been only possible from the aid of one bushy-haired bookworm.

Gazing at himself in the full-sized mirror before him, Harry took in his appearance, a far cry to what he had once been only a few short months ago. His hair, which had been cut short during his initial recruitment, had grown back to its original length, though it still looked as unkempt as it did before, though with the liberal use of some wandless magic, managed to tame it for the moment. His body, which had always been wiry and on the skinny side, had filled out greatly during his training and the gene therapy he, had received upon his initial enlistment. A Class-A Alliance Assault Upgrade Package, it had greatly improved his reaction time, muscle mass, bones, endurance levels, in addition to his vision impairment. He no longer had a need to wear glasses, though he still kept them as an heirloom of sorts, a reminder of his past.

In terms of his actually training, he had received top marks in a great multitude of his subjects, particularly in Weaponry, Public Speaking (a surprise considering how soft spoken he had been up until his fifth year, and even then it was more yelling and challenging Umbridge), Logistics, Computer and Technology, followed by Engineering. His theoretical scores on written tests were impressive, and his practical tests were even better. His instructors were more than pleased with his progress, and had at times took him aside to speak with him privately on possible future career paths in the Alliance aside from the frontlines.

It was shocking considering that he was never that much of a bright student during his time at Hogwarts, though now older and wiser, and no longer disillusioned with his past, attributed that to his time spent with the Dursley's and their efforts to impede his intelligence, punishing him if he ever scored higher then Dudley, and then later at Hogwarts due to his friendship with Hermione, and her near pathological need to always be on top in schoolwork, in addition to his then believed short life expectance.

With none of them a contributing factor any longer, Harry blossomed, his intelligence shinning through like a beacon of light from the dark recesses of his tormented past.

Smart, physically fit and appealing, (or so Elissa and Morgan have told him on occasion), Harry felt a level of self-confidence that had eluded him for most of his life, par the few times he had been on a broomstick flying.

It was that self-confidence that stared back at him from the mirror before him, dressed in his new Alliance dress blues, and as Harry placed the military cap on his head, the bill of the hat obscuring his emerald green eyes from view, he gave a smirk to his reflection.

A new Harry Potter had just been born, one who still held the morals and righteous courage that he had been known for in his youth, but now with the intelligence and cunning of a man who had no delusions about his self-worth.

And he liked it.

Giving his reflection a salute, and laughing a bit to himself out load due to the pure adrenaline and happiness flowing through him, turned a complete one hundred and eighty degrees before heading out the door of the recreation room towards the atrium, for the first time in his life with an air of true self-confidence around him.

It was something he really didn't think he'd ever get used too.

Harry stared out into the assembly hall of men and women applauding the group of recruits, now soldiers, for their graduation into the ranks of the Alliance. Each and every one of them had been awarded their designated medal of service, each a Serviceman 3rd Class, and gave their chosen Vocational Codes that they would abide by for the rest of their careers. Harry himself had given the S Class Vocational Code, marking his future military career in Orbital Deployments, Reconnaissance, Infiltration, and Assault Forces. The reasoning behind this had been twofold. The first was that it gave him the ability to travel to other worlds and systems, which helped his original goal in finding remnants of the magical world. The second was because it led him to an environment of warfare that he had sadly grown used too. While ideally he wanted to become an auror, it wasn't for the thrill of capturing dark wizards or fighting off evil and the fame that came with it as it had been for Ron when the subject had been broached, but for the fact that it was a position in which he could do the most good in helping the general populace. It was this same selfless reasoning that caused him to choice this career path, where he could ensure that those who would harm others would never be able to.

Harry glanced to his side, noticing Alex and Sam both smiling brightly, marveling at their new dress blues and new designation, even if it was the lowest one. They were still saluting, much like he was, but much like his own, they were directed at nothing in particular, seeing off into distance. Alex for she had no one to invite to the graduation ceremony, and Sam, because despite inviting her mother, she had refused to attend. Nathan's father, who had handed out the designated medals, had given Nathaniel only a nod of acknowledgement, but by the large smile on his friend's face, it was worth its weight in gold.

For the briefest of moments, Harry thought to himself on whether or not his parents, Sirius, and Remus would be proud of his choice to join the Alliance, before pushing such thoughts away, a bitter note in his heart. While he may have come to terms with Hermione and Ron's faults, he had not even come close with those whom were supposed to look out for and take care of him, not by a long shot. In all honesty, he wasn't ever sure he would be…

Distracting himself from such thoughts, Harry continued to stare out into the crowd, and felt his heart stop at the sight sitting in the very front row. Her grayish blue eyes having never wavered from him since the ceremony had started, Harry noted that her body was encased within a formfitting one shoulder strap dress, black hair held back by several clips, curled and framing her face. Lacking an great detail in makeup, though its use would have been lost due to her natural beauty, she centered her use at her eyes, eyeliner and mascara which created a heavy smoky look to her, her lips adorned in a shade of light lipstick that only brought the slightest bit of attention to them. She was the most beautiful woman in the room, and it formed a lump in his throat knowing that all of her attention was focused on him and him alone. The fact that she had come all the way to Arcturus Station just to witness his graduation meant more to him then he thought possible…

Focusing his attention solely on her, Harry ignored everything else in the room, breaking their locked gazes only when it was time for him and his fellow recruits to step off the stage.

Miranda Lawson watched the group of recruits with a keen eye, a glass of champagne in her hand, and measuring them for possible recruitment efforts by Cerberus. That was her official capacity of attending the Alliance's latest graduation ceremony. Unofficially, she was here to see Harry.

Having many contacts within the Alliance, she had been able to keep updated tabs on the young man throughout his six month stint in the Alliance's recruitment program. She had expected a great many things from Harry during his training and study, and was not disappointed. One of the top students in his class, getting high marks in the near majority of his courses, she felt more than justified in her last minute deal with the Illusive Man to help the young boy, turned man, who had unknowingly rescued herself and sister from a life of oppression. As a result, she owed him a debt, one that she did not think she would ever be able to repay.

Her thoughts broke as she witnessed Harry walk towards her, his back straight, and a quiet confidence in his stride. It was a far cry to the shy young man she had meet during her escape from her father's mansion.

A smile stretched across his face as he took a position to her right, nearly out of her peripheral vision, as he said, "Miranda. It's good to see you. It's been nearly what, six months since I last heard from you?"

"Five and a half actually." Her eyes took in a few more graduates, assessing them. There were so little potential within the group, though a majority shared xenophobic views. It would be easy for Cerberus recruitment officers to wrap that into a blind devotion to the cause, the survival and advancement of humanity, but it would also be counterproductive. Cerberus wasn't xenophobic, and would work with aliens if the need arose, and if the need was great enough, loath as they would to enact such drastic measures, sacrifice an entire race of sentient beings to ensure the survival of humanity, but men and women with extremist views would often not only see those actions as okay, but entirely justified, would ultimately disregard orders and follow through with their own goals, usurping those of Cerberus, and ultimately labeling the organization as a whole with their actions.

It was sickening, but also reality. Already, the Illusive Man had sent her amongst a group of agents to crack down, if not altogether eliminate other Cerberus cells that had gone rogue. The Illusive Man was losing face with the Alliance Parliament, and they were truly beginning to consider shutting down the entire Black Ops organization down.

They needed to assert control over their rogue agents, and quickly.

"That long huh? Still, it's good to see you again. I didn't think you knew I was graduating, and if you did, that you couldn't come."

"Couldn't, or wouldn't?"

"Couldn't. I may not know you all that well Miranda, but after spending so much time and effort trying to get settled, I believed that if you could, you would at some point come to see me in person to find out if all that effort was wasted or not."

He sounded bitter as he spoke, and Miranda filed that away as another mystery to the enigma that was Harry Potter.

They stayed silent for awhile, Harry lost in a sea of bad memories while Miranda tried to focus on something aside from the young man beside her.

He spoke again, his tone light, grabbing back Miranda's attention.

"I got my first assigned ship, the SSV Hastings. I depart the day after tomorrow in the morning."

Miranda in turn, nodded her head, already party to such information. She had after all made the suggestion to one of her contacts that it would be a prime ship for Harry to serve under. Out in the Attican Traverse and Skyllian Verge, and neck deep in the fight for control for the resources and potential planets for colonization against the Batarians, it would give Harry the necessary combat experience he would need, in addition to putting him in unique battle situations which Cerberus, and by extension herself, could make very good use of. There was some risk however, that Harry could possibly be killed, or just as worse, captured as a prisoner and sold to the highest bitter as a slave. Her eyes and gone frosty at the thought, a cold chill vibrating down her spine, and the slightest and barely noticeable hint of her biotics flaring at the thoughts.

She restrained herself, grateful that Harry didn't catch her brief loss of composure. It still aggravated her that she always lost control of her rational and detached demeanor whenever he was a subject of discussion or concern…

"I see. It's a very respectable cruiser, and a good first assignment. It should give you the experience you need, in addition to future commendations to boost your career."

Harry stopped a wince that wanted to form on his face. He had forgotten on how…clinically Miranda spoke. Even after nine months of knowing her, he still felt like a science experiment whenever she spoke to him or about him.

"I suppose so. I haven't really thought about it outside of the fact that I can finally leave this station and see the galaxy. Maybe even help the people out in the traverse who desperately need it."

It was here that a frown formed across her face. "That is something I fail to understand about you. You seem…driven to always help others, even going as far as laying down your life for them."

Looking him directly in the eye, Miranda continued to speak, finally allowing herself to say what she had wanted to ask those months ago when Harry had nearly died in trying to protect Oriana from those batarians back on the Citadel.

"You hardly knew me, and my first impression was attacking you with my biotics. I called security on you, where you suffered electroshock torture as a result, and had more on one occasion during our brief alliance at my father's mansion, thought of leaving you behind the minute it would allow me to escape with my sister, not caring whatever the cost may have been to you."

Staring into her glass of champagne, Miranda rhetorically asked herself, now no longer focusing her attention on Harry, "And yet you still tried to save my sister and me, when it would have been so easy for you to simply stand aside and let them take her. To let them use her as bait to get to me, letting you walk away scotch free."

Closing her eyes, and wishing to stave off the emotional turmoil that was bleeding out of her heart, ignoring the whispers that said that Harry wasn't truly her friend, that he was an agent of her father, that this was all some elaborate test of his, that she never truly got away, that she would never be free…

Miranda snapped out of her own bleak and desolate world when she felt Harry touch her bare shoulder, gently rousing her from her thoughts before forcing her chin up and meeting his gaze.

"It's called a 'saving people' thing. At least, that was what one of my…old friends used to say whenever we discussed my need to go out of my way to help others. Though personally, I like to think that I do it for those precious to me. My friends, and well, I'd like to think of us as friends. We are friends, aren't we Miranda?"

Miranda froze at that. In truth, she never tried to define her relationship with the man next to her. Seeing him originally as an obstacle, then a temporary ally made long-term, to a party to her escape and liberation of her sister. Mentally, she tried to categorize him as means of protection for her sister, gaining his trust and loyalty as to never at some point relay the information of Oriana's whereabouts to her father, or to be bought out by his never ending funds. From there, after his initial test results in the Alliance, coupled with her own assessments of his skills, as a future agent of Cerberus, and possibly a subordinate under her command. Her heart on the other hand, held a place for him within itself, much like it did for Oriana and Niket, her only true friend from her former life and current one. They seldom spoke, passing the occasional message once every week or so, unless she was on assignment, which would turn to possible months of silence between them. It did not help her situation when her fellow Cerberus agents could not see beyond her extensive genetic modification, or her inability to connect with people, thus her frosty and cold demeanor. Add her beautiful appearance and intelligence, not to mention her age, and she was more or less ostracized on both ends of the spectrum. It did not impede her work or dedication to the cause, but even she could admit that it got lonely from time to time…

Which brought on the old fears that Harry Potter wasn't whom he said he was (which wasn't even much to begin with), and that he was simply another errand boy for her father, just waiting to lure her into a false sense of security before revealing the knife in his hand and driving it through her back and into her heart. She either took a leap of faith, trust that he wasn't an agent working for her father, that he genuinely wanted to protect her and her sister from harm, and that he truly believed that they were friends…or she brushed him off, become the ice-cold calculating young Cerberus agent that most people believed her to be, never getting close to anyone.

Mentally, she knew the latter choice was the best option. It eliminated anybody getting close enough to her that could cause her father to exploit them, and at the same time, saved her the heartache in the event that whomever she ended up trusting betrays her at a later date.

But as intelligent as she was, as genetically altered as she was into being a more sophisticated human being, she was still at heart, a recently turned sixteen year old girl…

"Yes", she murmured softly, "I suppose we are."

The rewarding smile on Harry's face brought up a smile across her own.

And for the rest of night, as Harry stood by her side casually chatting with her about the past few months, and about her baby sister's wellbeing, Miranda didn't feel so lonely anymore.

/-/Author Note\-\\

New chapter out, and I apologize for the long wait since my last update. I just got a job, and have been working nearly around the clock, paying for the day to day expenses that are needed for day to day living. I also got Mass Effect 3, which sadly, with the way I had hoped to progress with the story, was too similar to some of major plot points of the game itself. So, I had to rework it a bit, which took me longer then I wanted too. On a separate note, I'm waiting patiently for the Extended Cut DLC. My only issue with the way Commander Shepard's story ended was that it didn't show how the decisions I had him/her make throughout the game affected the galaxy at large, and what the result was after making your final choice in ME3. I stated before on a forum or two, that if they had made an ending similar to Dragon Age: Origins, where it showed the end results of your choices, i.e what happens to Orzammar if you made Balian the new King, and allowed him the power of the Anvil, or the fate of the Werewolves if you sided with them and killed off the Dalish Clan, that a lot less people would have complained about how the game ended. Then again, maybe it was left intended as an opened ending for a future Mass Effect project that they would have announced later. They had hinted that Mass Effect 3 was the end of Shepard's story, not of the series itself. With the negative response fans have made however, and they're subsequent attempts to appease them, we may never find out. Anyway, that's just me rambling.

Regardless, its end of the chapter and Harry has officially completed his academy training and is now being assigned onto his first ship. His current rank is that of S1 Private/Serviceman 1st Class, the first ship being the SSV Hastings, and he now has a few new friends. I'll post the next chapter as soon as I can, in which Harry embarks on his first assignment, one that will star another ME series favorite. Whom, I'll leave entirely up to you to guess, though I did leave a little hint in the chapter to anyone who can find it AND guess correctly. Also, can anyone guess whom the two other characters I placed in the story are from?