Time to take a chance

Surprise!

Hello, everyone! Well, I'm from Spain and this is the first time I publish a story in English so I'm sorry for any grammatical or spelling mistake, but I really wanted to try to do this.

This isn't the first story I've begun about reading the books of Harry Potter, but the other one is written in Spanish. It's called 'Leyendo la vida del chico de la cicatriz del rayo' and I've been working on it for a long time now. The problem is that I started it without knowing where I wanted to go with it and I've wanted to change so many things for a while. So, I decided to rewrite it and I thought, 'Hey, why don't I try to write it in both English and Spanish? It can't hurt to try', so, yeah, here you go.

I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: All the text in bold and the characters belong to J. K. Rowling. This is just a story written by a fan who doesn't get any kind of compensation for it except for a few reviews from time to time.

Time to take a chance

Surprise!

Time is a very curious thing.

Time sometimes feels like it flows too fast while other times it feels like it takes forever for another grain of sand to fall in an hourglass. Time changes your perception of things. The time when an event takes place can change a lot of things and have a lot of consequences.

Perhaps that was the next events in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would take place that night instead of years earlier or much later, once everything had come to pass. Had they happened later, it would have been for nothing, but it would have done more harm than good if they had happened earlier.

Of course, none of the wizards and witches currently in the Great Hall knew that nor that something unexpected was going to happen. How could they? They only knew that that year was going to be special with the Triwizard Tournament and its three champions were going to be chosen any moment now. The students were all waiting impatiently for Dumbledore to finish his dinner, many of them sending glances at the blue-white flames of the Goblet of Fire.

What they weren't expecting was for the Great Hall to suddenly be filled with a flash of light that blinded everyone. When the bright spots disappeared from everyone's eyes, they couldn't see anything out of order. Everybody was on their feet with their wands ready to defend themselves, but nothing more than that.

Well, there was one thing...

"What the...?" A voice carried through the Great Hall, making many heads turn in that direction. It belonged to a boy with unruly black hair and round glasses that they all knew. "A package? I receive a package now?"

"Mr. Potter?" The headmaster prompted, his blue eyes sharp and the twinkle that was usually in them completely gone.

"This has appeared, Professor," Harry said, poking the cardboard box with his wand warily.

"It has your name on it," Hermione said, eyeing the top where 'Harry James Potter' was written with a somewhat familiar chicken scribble. She knew it from somewhere but she couldn't quite put her finger on where.

Dumbledore quickly walked over to the Gryffindor table, the students parting to allow him to get close to the box. He was followed closely behind by McGonagall, Snape, Moody, Crouch, Bagman, Karkaroff and Madame Maxime while the other professors tried to maintain a minimum of order as whispers spread across the student body.

"Mr. Potter, everyone, step back," McGonagall ordered immediately. Her students quickly hurried to obey, knowing better than to ignore her orders when she sounded like that.

The old headmaster waved his wand over the box in complicated motions, whispering under his breath and frowning in confusion when nothing happened.

"I don't think it has any harmful hex or charm on it," he said after a while. He had checked in every way he knew how to do it and all the results had come back negative. He reached out with a hand, keeping his wand ready just in case, and tried to open the box. To his bafflement, it remained firmly shut.

"Somezing wrong, Dumbly-dorr?" Madame Maxime asked sharply as she eyed the box mistrustfully. She had taken care to position herself between the box and the students from her school, which were two tables away.

"Not really," the headmaster said pensively. "I can't open the box."

"I think that counts as something wrong, Dumbledore," Karkaroff snarked impatiently.

"Maybe not, if I'm not the one who's meant to open it," Dumbledore said, turning his gaze towards Harry. The boy was standing a couple of feet away, next to his friends and the other Gryffindors who had been ushered away by their head of house.

Harry blinked startled when he found himself the focus of a pair of twinkling blue eyes. "Me?" He blurted out shocked, pointing at himself. He looked behind him, half hoping that the old man was looking at someone else.

"You want a school boy to open a box with unknown contents that had appeared out of nowhere in the middle of your school, Albus?" Crouch asked, not looking too happy with the prospect.

"It has his name on it, Barty. It was clearly meant for him," Dumbledore nodded. "It stands to reason that whoever went to such lengths to send him this package, managing to bypass the wards around the castle, would make sure that he would be the only one able to reveal its contents."

"Bloody fantastic," the boy cursed under his breath. This was the last thing he needed. He had just wanted to see who the champions were and celebrate with his friends, trying to guess what they would have to face.

"C'mon, mate," Ron said, clapping his shoulder in support. "Better get it over with."

"That's easy for you to say," Harry huffed, tightening his grip on his wand as he walked closer.

He closed the distance to the box and opened it without problem. There wasn't any kind of mystical glow or anything. He didn't know what had stopped Dumbledore from opening it, but he felt nothing. He looked inside apprehensively, half expecting to see something horrible and half expecting to see a treasure. The last thing he thought he would see was...

"Books?" He exclaimed. "They've sent me books?"

"What kind of books?" Hermione asked curiously as she peeked over his shoulder.

"I'm not sure. It says..." Harry grabbed the one that was on top, a red one, and looked at the cover, trailing off as he read the title. "Harry Potter and..."

"And?" Moody snapped when he didn't continue.

"I don't know," Harry frowned, turning the book around to show it to them. "It's all blurry. I can't read it." It reminded him of how he saw when he didn't have his glasses.

"All the books are like that," Ron said, pulling them out of the box and inspecting a dark blue one. They were all in different widths and colours, but the title was the same one.

"And they're all blank," Dumbledore observed, having opened a purple one. Snape was examining a green one and McGonagall was frowning at the one in her hands, a black one with the title in white.

If he was honest with himself, Harry was glad about that. With that title, it was likely that those books were about him and that creeped the hell out of him. He didn't want any books —any more books, at least— written about him. He was mentioned in too many of them already and he didn't like it.

"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" Madame Maxime asked, beginning to look cross as she flicked through the pages of an orange book and found it totally blank, too.

"Does this have anything to do with the Tournament?" Karkaroff asked with a frown. He was staring at a thick pink book with an expression of distaste.

"Nothing," Ludo Bagman said, looking more interested than wary.

"We have not planned this, Karkaroff," Crouch assured him. "This is not our doing."

"What are we supposed to do, then?" McGonagall asked puzzled.

"There's something else, Professor," Hermione said. She was looking inside the box, which was now empty save for an envelope. "It has your name on it, too," she said, handing it to Harry.

The boy stared at it half annoyed and half scared. What was going on? What were those books? Who had sent them? Why had they sent them? He guessed that staring at his name scrawled with a weirdly familiar handwriting wasn't going to give him the answers.

"Should I read it aloud, professor?" He asked tiredly as he tore it open.

"Please, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore nodded.

Hello, Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons,

This may come to a shock to most of you and many won't like what we're going to say. Well, too bad. This is more important than that Tournament that's just beginning.

First things first, you're about to receive a few guests, some of which you'll know, some of which you won't. There's one thing that you must know and it's that NONE OF THEM is to harmed in any way.

"Guests?" Karkaroff interrupted. "What guests?"

Another flash of light cut off any answer he may have received. When the light vanished once more, it left in its wake several people, all of them vastly different.

"I think it's talking about those guests," Dumbledore said conversationally.

"SIRIUS BLACK!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked as she jumped away from the man she had appeared next to. Her husband pulled her back, away from the murderer, and stood in front of her and his oldest sons.

There was a whirlwind of chaos as the students panicked, the adults pulled out their wands again and a startled fugitive tried to figure out how to escape.

"Arrest him!" Crouch shouted, prompting Moody, a tall black wizard and a young witch with bright pink hair to lunge for him.

"NO!" A voice shouted before they could reach him. A blur shot past them and stood in front of the startled murderer.

"Potter, move aside!" Moody barked sharply, the tip of his wand shining ominously.

Harry glared back, not willing to give in. "No way. He's innocent," he declared firmly.

"Harry, get out of here," Sirius urged him. He tried to push his godson away, but the child was stubborn and he refused to budge.

"I'm not gonna let them take you away and give you the Kiss, Sirius," Harry said, ignoring the rising panic in his chest. Why had his godfather appeared in the middle of the Great Hall? What was whoever had sent him the package playing at? Did they want him dead or something?

"Potter, stop being a brat and let the aurors do their job," Snape sneered, a hint of triumph in his black eyes.

"He's innocent," Harry repeated.

"I didn't know you allowed this kind of defiance in your school, Dumbledore," Karkaroff mocked.

"It is certainly unbecoming," Madame Maxime scoffed, turning up her nose.

"Mr. Potter, if you don't step aside this instant, you'll be arrested for conspiring with a known fugitive and resisting against the authority," Crouch warned.

"Harry, step aside," Sirius ordered more urgently. The last thing he wanted was for his godson to get into trouble for him.

"No," Harry shook his head. "I can prove that you're innocent. We can tell them what happened last year. Maybe they'll believe us, unlike Fudge."

"What about the Minister?" The tall black wizard asked, not lowering his wand, but looking reluctant to hex a child.

Seeing this man a bit more willing to listen, Harry sized the chance and hurried to explain. "We tried to tell him last year that Sirius didn't murder those people thirteen years ago, but he refused to listen to us."

"Potter, that's a very dangerous man you're trying to protect. He's done things you don't know," Crouch said warningly.

"I do know them," Harry argued back. "I know he's accused for having betrayed my parents and having handed them over to Voldemort," he snapped, ignoring the shudder that spread across the Great Hall like a ripple and the squeak of the younger students. "And for having murdered Peter Pettigrew and twelve muggles thirteen years ago."

"How do you know that?" Crouch asked, eyes narrowed. As far as he knew, everyone had agreed the year before that the less the Potter boy knew about that, the better for his own sake.

"I have a knack for finding out things on accident," Harry replied. "Just like I found out that Sirius didn't do any of those things."

"The biggest piece we found of Peter Pettigrew was a finger. I highly doubted that he could be alive after that," Crouch argued.

"Excuse me, sir," Hermione intervened as Ron and she walked over to Harry and stood on either side of him, making their loyalties known. "But I think that would be the first clue that something isn't right with the story you believe. What kind of curse would be able to do that? Even with the most powerful explosion, there should have been something else left behind, not just a finger."

That made a few people hesitate. It was true. Explosions left a mess behind, not just a finger.

"We can provide memories," Remus said, coming out of his shock and standing next to Sirius.

"You were there when Potter supposedly found out the truth about those events?" Crouch asked, eyebrow raised.

"Yes, sir. I'm Remus Lupin. I was a close friend of the Potters and I was a teacher here last year," the werewolf nodded. "I would be willing to testify under Veritaserum to tell what happened."

"That wouldn't be a bad idea," the tall black wizard mused pensively, even as he didn't let up his alert stance.

Crouch pursed his lips. "Maybe," he conceded. He knew that he hadn't given this man the trial that he legally deserved.

"I have Veritaserum in my office," Snape offered. "I could go fetch it right now."

"What about the Tournament?" A girl from Beauxbatons asked.

It made many heads turn towards the blue-white flames. They had completely forgotten that a historical event was supposed to take place any minute.

"Should not somezing 'ave 'appened by now?" Madame Maxime asked with a confused frown. Unless they had timed it completely wrong, the Goblet should have already spat the names of the three champions.

Dumbledore frowned. "Yes, it should have."

"What's going on here?" Karkaroff demanded.

"We can find out after we've dealt with Black," Crouch stated firmly, barely taking his eyes off the fugitive.

"If something has tampered with the Goblet of Fire, it has to be something serious, Barty," Dumbledore intervened. "It's not something we can leave for later."

"And a murderer is?" The man asked incredulously.

"This is more important, Bartemius," McGonagall said impatiently. "Someone has sent Potter a box with some books and has then brought all these people to Hogwarts when you know very well that it's impossible to apparate in here. And then the Goblet, a powerful magical artefact, starts malfunctioning. Don't you think it could be related to the box and the books?"

"Well said, Minerva," Dumbledore said with a tiny smile.

"We should arrest Black and keep him in custody at least," Crouch insisted stubbornly.

"And where would I go without someone noticing?" Sirius couldn't suppress the urge to ask, his voice dripping his sarcasm. He waved a hand around him. "Think I could slip unnoticed past hundreds of students, two aurors, a paranoid ex-auror and two officers from the Ministry?"

"We're not taking any chances, Black," Crouch snapped.

Remus nudged his childhood friend before he could reply. "Just give them your wand, Sirius. This could be your only chance to get a trial and be free," he said pleadingly.

That shut up the animagus rather quickly. With a sigh, he drew his wand and handed it to the pink-haired witch. "There. Better now?" He asked, feeling naked and unprotected without the wand he had been able to procure just a couple of weeks before. It may not be as good as the one that had chosen him in Ollivander's shop when he was eleven, but it was his only defence.

"Much," Crouch snapped. "Dumbledore, get on with this."

"Mr. Potter, if you could please continue reading the letter..." The headmaster prompted, looking pointedly at the parchment still held in the teenager's hand.

Harry had relaxed as he heard that they were going to give Sirius a chance. With a bit (a lot) of luck, his godfather would be free and he would be able to go live with him, but he hardly dared to hope. He had got his hopes up the year before only to have them trashed.

He was still standing in front of Sirius with his wand in his hand, but he was no longer ready to attack or defend his godfather. Maybe, just maybe, whoever had written him this letter had known what they were doing when they had brought Sirius here.

Well, that was exciting, wasn't it? Just in case, it is true that Sirius Black is innocent and you will find the proof you need in the third of the books. Don't bother trying to read it now. It will remain blank until the moment is right.

Dumbledore, you may want to go to Alastor Moody's office and open his trunk. You're going to find a surprise there. And, Crouch, we know that you're itching to arrest someone, so we're giving you a real culprit and a chance to mend your mistake. Start with the imposter poising as an ex-auror next to you.

"This has to be some joke!" Moody roared incensed, his magical eye turning in every direction.

"Alastor?" Dumbledore asked sharply, his voice icy as he stared at whom he considered a good friend.

"Albus, this is nonsense!"

"Is it?" The headmaster asked calmly, his wand ready in his hand but pointing at the floor. "Everything else the letter has said is surprisingly true. I find little reason not to believe it now."

"Moody, hand over your wand," Crouch ordered firmly, but his eyes were filled with dread.

For a minute, nobody moved. The students had backed away from the confrontation they could feel coming and Sirius, Remus and the Weasleys had pulled Harry, Ron and Hermione back. That left only the supposed imposter surrounded by the teachers and the officers from the Ministry, all of them with their wands ready.

With a desperate roar, Moody raised his wand and a bright red light shot out of it. Thankfully, Dumbledore waved his wand in a big circle that made a shield appear and absorb the curse before it could harm any of the students. Not even thirty seconds later, the now-clearly-imposter was unconscious on the floor.

"Check his pockets," Crouch ordered.

The tall black wizard stepped forward to do that, pulling out the flask that Moody carried everywhere. One sniff at its contents had him reeling back with a grimace.

"Polyjuice Potion," he said, standing up again. "I think this is enough proof that this man is not Alastor Moody."

"Then where is the real one?" The pink-haired witch asked, frowning in concern. She was clearly close to the ex-auror, the real one at least.

"The trunk," Dumbledore realised with wide eyes as he remembered what the letter said. "It said I would find a surprise in Alastor's trunk."

"The imposter would have to keep him close to keep making the potion," Snape said through gritted teeth.

"Severus, Poppy, with me," Dumbledore said immediately as he marched out of the Great Hall with long strides.

"Dumbly-dorr, 'old on a second," Madame Maxime demanded. "What about zis man?"

"He'll be back to normal in an hour at most and we'll hopefully be back long before that with the real Alastor Moody with us," the old man said, barely slowing down at all. Before someone else could argue, he was gone.

"For the love of..." Karkaroff swore infuriated. "He's the one that said that we should figure out what's going on with those damn books and the Goblet first and now he's gone."

"Honestly, Igor, Alastor's life could be in danger," McGonagall snapped, having little patience for the man's whines at the moment. She was keeping an eye on the man that Flitwick was tying up after checking for emergency portkeys so he couldn't escape.

"Maybe we should send the students to their common rooms, Minerva," Professor Sprout said grimly. She didn't like having the children witnessing these events. They were things that no child should have to worry about.

"Yeah, you're right, Pomona," the head of Gryffindor nodded.

"I'm not sure if sending the students away is the best idea right now," Flitwick said with a serious expression. "We've already found an imposter among us, some powerful magic has tampered with the Goblet and that letter that seems to know too much... I'd prefer to have all the students where we could keep an eye on them. It would be easier to protect them if they're all in the same place."

McGonagall sighed troubled. Why had this had to happen? Filius had a good point. Besides, she had the feeling that they wouldn't be able to send at least Harry to the common room since the damn box was sent to him. And it wouldn't be fair to single him out again, or more like single him out even more.

Speaking of Harry...

"Sirius," the boy said, turning around to look at his godfather in relief. "How are you here?"

"You tell me," the animagus said. "I was hiding and I had no intention of entering Hogwarts."

"I don't know what's happening," Harry said anxiously. "This, this box appeared out of nowhere and the letter said that we were going to have guests and..."

"Harry," Hermione interrupted him, laying a hand on his arm. "It's okay. This may be a good thing."

"Then why do I have such a bad feeling about all this?" Harry replied.

Hermione bit her lip. "I don't know. But whatever happens, at least this has given Sirius a chance."

"Ron!" A voice interrupted them. Mrs. Weasley was storming towards them with a thunderous expression. "What were you thinking? What were all of you thinking?! How could you protect a murderer from the Ministry?!"

"Mum, he's innocent!" Ron protested.

"How would you know that?!" His mother shrieked.

"We found out last year!" Ron said, his ears turning red. "And the letter has said so, too!"

"We don't even know who has sent that letter!" She argued.

"Mrs. Weasley, they were still right about Moody," Harry dared to say. He couldn't let his best friend stand up for his godfather on his own.

Her anger faltered. "That's not enough proof..."

"But it's enough to raise some doubts about Sirius' innocence, isn't it?" Harry pressed on.

"Mrs. Weasley, they're telling the truth," Remus said tiredly. "I was with them last year when they found out. Sirius is innocent."

Mrs. Weasley hesitated before her resolve strengthened. "I want to know the whole truth. Now," she demanded.

They knew better than to anger the redheaded woman. They were ready to spill everything when a yell interrupted them.

"He's changing back!" The pink-haired witch warned everyone. She was glaring hatefully at the imposter with her wand aimed at him.

Everyone turned to stare at the unconscious man. His face began to change, smoothing out as the scars disappeared. The hair turned straw yellow, and both the peg leg and the magical eye fell as the real leg and eye grew back. In just a few moments, a completely different man was standing in Moody's previous place.

"Barty Crouch Jr.!" McGonagall exclaimed stunned.

Many heads turned towards the pale Barty Crouch Sr., who was staring at his son in horror.

"Barty, what's going on?" Ludo Bagman asked warily, stepping away from the man.

"I would like to know that, too," Dumbledore said as he came back with Snape on his heels.

"Where's Moody?" The pink-haired witch asked as soon as she saw him.

"He's in the infirmary with Madame Pomfrey. He was unconscious, but mostly unharmed. He'll be fine in the morning after a night's rest," the headmaster assured her.

"Good," the tall black wizard said before returning his gaze towards Crouch. "You owe us an explanation. And I think it's your turn to hand over your wand."

"I... I..." He hesitated.

"Barty," Dumbledore said firmly. "Your wand."

"Dumbledore... I... my fault... Bertha..." The man murmured, looking at war with himself.

"What is he talking about?" Karkaroff snapped. "What's that nonsense?"

Dumbledore walked closer to the man, his wand ready just in case. "Barty?"

"Dumbledore... he... stronger... warn..." Crouch mumbled, becoming more agitated.

The headmaster now stood in front of the man. He studied him carefully before his eyes widened. "He's controlled by the Imperius Curse," he muttered.

"What? Zat's ridiculous, Dumbly-dorr," Madame Maxime scoffed.

Dumbledore frowned, not taking his eyes off Barty, who kept muttering things under his breath. "I don't think so. I believe he's fighting the curse but whoever casted it is clearly powerful."

"What should we do?" The tall black wizard asked.

The headmaster pursed his lips. "I think the best thing would be to give poor Barty a respite of the ordeal he's going through," he decided, flicking his wand. A red beam hit Crouch in the chest and he crumpled to the floor. "We'll take him to the infirmary once we're finished here."

"Albus, what's going on?" McGonagall asked, beginning to be overwhelmed. They were only supposed to find out who the champions were going to be. Instead, they found an imposter, said father's imposter being imperiused, a powerful magical artefact malfunctioning, something bypassing the wards around Hogwarts like they didn't exist, a murderer appearing in the Great Hall and those blasted blank books.

"I don't know, Minerva," Dumbledore answered grimly. "I'm hoping that the letter in Mr. Potter's hand can offer some explanations. Mr. Potter, if you could continue reading..."

Harry took a shaky breath, a part of him wishing that he hadn't got out of bed that morning. After the past three Halloweens at Hogwarts and now this, he was beginning to think that the day was cursed.

Now that that's over, we think we should give you some explanations. You better restrain Barty Crouch Sr. well because he's under the Imperius Curse and you better restrain Barty Crouch Jr. even better because you'll need his testimony in the future, and not just to help clean Sirius' name. Don't bother questioning them, nor Sirius Black. You'll get a full detailed explanation for both things in the books.

That's why we've sent the books. They're a heads-up about what's to come, so that all of you can prepare for it. They have everything you need to know to defeat Voldemort for good this time. He'll be back sooner than you think and a lot of people will die, people who's right there in the Great Hall.

A stony silence spread across the room. You-Know-Who was coming back? Surely that was a joke. That couldn't be right. He had been gone for thirteen years now. Harry Potter had defeated him, the same Harry Potter who was now staring at the parchment in his hands with a pale face.

They couldn't know it, but he was remembering the dream he had had that summer, the dream about Voldemort planning his return to full power and his murder with Wormtail. He was going to succeed? How soon was sooner than he thought? How much time did they have to prepare?

"Harry," Ron murmured, equally pale. "Keep reading."

Harry cleared his throat and shook his head.

We know that you don't want people to read your life, Harry, and we're sorry, but this is necessary. You're the one who was stuck at the very centre of it all and lived through all of it. That's why we created these books from your point of view, which, unfortunately, includes your thoughts and feelings and a few dreams. We've taken out a few that weren't related to Voldemort and the war, but we aren't sure we got all of them.

We know that's bad enough, but that's not the worst thing.

It wasn't? How could it not?

The whole Great Hall was wondering the same thing. Their thoughts, feelings and dreams, their whole life plastered over the pages of seven books. That was a nightmare come true. Nothing could be worse than that.

The spell needed to create these books has a huge drawback. They're from your point of view because they're connected to you, literally. That means that whatever happens to you in those books will happen to you for real. Don't try to correct those effects. You may be able to lessen them in some cases, but they won't disappear until they pass in the story or until you finish whatever book you're reading at the moment.

We know. Awful.

We could have tried to include different points of view so that at least you wouldn't be the only linked to the books and it wouldn't be just your thoughts you would read, but that was a bad idea. As we've said, not everyone in the Great Hall survives and we didn't want people to begin dropping dead in the middle of the reading.

Everyone was horrified. Linked to the books? Feeling whatever they read happened to him? The letter had been right. This was infinitely worse. Who had created those books? Had they wanted to torture Potter?

Either way, they couldn't help but feel secretly relieved that not everyone would be linked to the books like Potter was. Knowing that not everyone would survive the next four years if it was true that it was a book per year, they didn't want to risk being the ones that would drop dead unannounced. Or, well, announced but beyond aid.

The other option that would have allowed to get the whole story would have been from Voldemort's point of view, but we think we can all agree that would have been much creepier. No one wants that.

There was a collective shudder in the Great Hall as they imagined it.

No. Nobody wanted to get into that psycho's head. Thinking about the possibility was bad enough. It made their skin crawl.

Another thing, nobody can enter or exit Hogwarts until you've finished reading all the books. You're inside a time bubble as you may have noticed when the Goblet of Fire didn't start announcing the champions of the Triwizard Tournament. Don't worry, nobody will miss you outside. It will be like no time at has passed when you go out of there.

Finally, everyone there has to make an oath not to reveal to anyone outside the existence of the books or their contents. Anyone who tries to listen or read without making this oath will be instantly transported to the infirmary, where they'll remain unconscious until the end of the reading, and they won't remember a thing when they wake up.

Before any of you argue, this is some dangerous knowledge we're giving you here. Things are already starting to change and you haven't even begun to read the books. We can't afford to risk having this information falling into the wrong hands. It would be disastrous for everyone.

There'll be a single exception to this and that will be Harry since the books are about him. And before you say that it isn't fair that Harry doesn't have to make the oath, you'll need a failsafe in case you need to tell someone about all this. Since we can all agree that, being the books about his life, he won't be going around telling everybody about them, he'll be the one exempt from the oath and there's no point trying to argue about it. We can't hear you anyway and we won't change our minds.

Harry, we've made sure that the books will remain blank until you agree to read them. You have an option here. It's your life they're telling and you'll be the one who will be in pain. If you don't want to read them, just put everything back inside the box and tap it with your wand. It will disappear along with all your memories and everything will go back to how it was before the first flash of light. It's keyed to your magical signature so it'll only work if you do it willingly.

It's your decision and your decision alone, Harry.

Good luck, everyone.

A few friends from a future that will hopefully improve

Nobody knew what to say when Harry finished reading the letter. What were they supposed to say?

"I think it's time for the students to go to their common rooms," Dumbledore broke the silence.

"What?" McGonagall asked, still stunned.

"We're not going to begin reading tonight no matter what's Mr. Potter's decision," the headmaster said firmly. "And this isn't something that can be decided on a whim. Mr. Potter should have time to think it through and he'll announce his decision in the morning. Meanwhile, I believe we have two men to secure so they don't escape."

"What about Sirius Black?" The tall black wizard asked calmly.

"He can't go anywhere and he doesn't have a wand," Dumbledore replied. "I believe he won't be a threat."

"Are you sure, Dumbledore?" The man asked, not looking too happy.

"I'm sure, Kingsley," the headmaster nodded resolutely. "We have other things to worry about than a man that was convicted for something he didn't do. Instead, we better take these men to the dungeons. It's been a long time since they were used with that purpose, but I'm sure they're still a good place to make sure they can't escape."

"My students, to the carriage!" Madame Maxime announced, agreeing with Dumbledore's decision. She wanted her students safe where she could keep an eye on them.

"Durmstrang's students, to the ship!" Karkaroff ordered, paler than normal.

"And the rest of the students to their common rooms!" McGonagall said, not leaving room for arguments.

"Harry, come on," Hermione said softly, gently grabbing his elbow to guide him back to the Gryffindor table to take the books.

"Albus, Sirius and I will go to the Gryffindor tower, too, unless you need us for something," Remus said, uncharacteristically serious.

"Of course, Remus," Dumbledore nodded.

"We'll go there, too," Mrs. Weasley said, lips pursed as she stared mistrustfully at Sirius.

"Dumbly-dorr," Madame Maxime called when she was about to exit the Great Hall after her students. She was staring at Harry, who was carrying the box with the books, disapprovingly. "We are letting zat child take ze books?"

"They tell his story, Madame Maxime," the headmaster said. "I think it's his right to do with them as he pleases."

"Even if they hold important information like the return and demise of the Dark Lord?" Karkaroff asked, having stopped by the door, too. He didn't look happy at all.

"It's my life," Harry intervened before Dumbledore could even open his mouth. He was glaring at the other two headmasters, not liking how they were suggesting that he shouldn't be the one taking the books. "These books were sent to me, they tell my life and it's my decision whether we read them or not."

Karkaroff bristled. "You..."

"Watch your tongue, Karkaroff," Sirius intervened, taking a step forward. He glared at the man warningly.

The headmaster of Durmstrang scowled, but he didn't see any support when he looked around. Not saying another word, he whirled around and strolled out of sight quickly.

"Let's go to the tower, Harry, dear," Mrs. Weasley said softly.

Nobody talked as they walked through the corridors and climbed the stairs. When they reached the Fat Lady, she was accompanied by another witch as they both gossiped.

"Who's been chosen as the champions?" The Fat Lady asked eagerly.

"Balderdash," Ron said instead of answering.

"It's not!" The other witch exclaimed indignant.

"It's just the password, Vi," the Fat Lady calmed her down as she turned on her hinges to let them enter the common room.

It seemed like every Gryffindor was waiting for them inside. It was almost enough to make Harry turn on his heels and flee in the opposite direction, but he simply ignored all the stares with practiced ease and flopped down on the couch he usually occupied with Ron and Hermione. He left the box at his feet and dropped his head in his hands, resisting the urge to groan and yell in frustration. He felt his two best friends sit on either side of him.

"So," Ron said after a minute when nobody talked. "That was unexpected."

Hermione leant forward to glare at him. "Really, Ron? That's all you have to say?"

"What else do you want me to say?" Ron replied annoyed.

Hermione rolled her eyes and she crossed her arms over her chest as she leant back. "I don't know why I bother," she huffed.

Ron went to exchange a baffled look with Harry, but his best friend wasn't listening, too busy glaring at the box at his feet. He clapped his shoulder and gave him a shake to get his attention. "What are you going to do, mate?" He asked, becoming more serious.

Harry's glare intensified. "I don't know," he said through gritted teeth. "This whole thing sucks."

"Harry!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed scandalized. She had never heard such language from him.

"Mum, I think he's entitled to a few curses and swears after the bomb he had just had dropped on him," Bill said dryly. He was standing his arms crossed, leaning against the couch occupied by his sister and the twins.

"I would have been swearing up a storm a long while ago," Charlie agreed, standing next to his big brother with his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"It doesn't matter what you two would be doing," Ginny cut in, looking annoyed. "I think what Harry is going to do now is a bit more important."

"He's going to burn those books," Sirius said firmly. He was standing behind an armchair where Remus had sat, hands gripping the backrest so tightly that his knuckles were white.

Many heads snapped towards him startled. Almost everyone was still wary of having him there, but Dumbledore didn't seem to have a problem with it and the letter that had been right about everything said that he was innocent so... Nobody uttered a protest yet. Not that that meant that they trusted him.

"Burn the books?" Harry repeated, thinking that he had to have heard him wrong.

"Yes," the animagus nodded. "Right now, in fact."

Harry gritted his teeth. "No," he snapped, making everyone stop in their tracks.

"No?" Mrs. Weasley asked. She couldn't believe she was thinking this, but she agreed with Sirius Black here. She wanted to burn those books until there weren't even ashes left.

"No," Harry confirmed. "I don't know what I want to do with them, but burning them before I decide is not an option."

"Harry, those books," George said, looking at him with a serious expression.

"Are a nasty piece of work," Fred finished for him. They didn't know everything Harry had been through, but they knew enough to know that making him feel it all over again, never mind whatever would happen in the future, was not going to be fun.

"I'm not saying that I want to read them," Harry said, clenching his jaw.

"Harry, you don't have many more options than that," Percy intervened as he took a sit on the armrest next to George. It was rather risky of him, but he figured that the situation was too serious for even George to try to prank him right then.

"He's right," Charlie nodded. "Either we read them or we don't."

"We're not reading them," Sirius snapped, glaring at them furiously.

"That's not your decision," Harry said, narrowing his eyes in his godfather's direction. It was ticking him off to hear so many people making decisions in his stead.

Sirius turned around to gape at his godson. "Harry..."

"We have to read them," the boy cut him off. "We can't not read them. Many people will die if we don't."

People didn't answer then. They were staring at him with a mix of pity and sympathy and half another emotions that Harry didn't want to even begin to decipher.

"It's not fair to you, Harry," Remus said sadly.

"Life isn't fair," he replied bitterly. He had accepted long beforehand that he had a knack for drawing the short stick time and time again.

"You shouldn't have to do this, Harry," Sirius said just as sadly.

Harry was getting irritated now. "You don't have to be there if you don't want to," he said, making an effort not to snap. "In fact, I would rather that nobody heard them."

"So, you don't want to read them," Bill summed up.

"Of course not," Harry huffed. "I don't want anyone to listen to my life like it's a story. That's not right. If I could, I would be reading them on my own." He stopped pensively. "Maybe I can. The letter did say that they needed my permission for the books to stop being blank."

"We're not allowing you to read them on your own, Harry," Hermione said firmly, sending him a steely glare.

"We're reading them with you, Hermione and I," Ron said, clenching his jaw stubbornly.

"Hey, you three don't get to do this on your own," Ginny intervened angrily. "You're always doing things your way, with your secrets that you never tell anyone. But now we can be part of that."

"Shut up, Ginny," Ron snapped.

"Ron! Don't talk to your sister like that!" His mother scolded him.

"She's just butting her nose where it's not her business!" He protested.

"Technically, it's not your business either," his sister said acidly. "It's Harry's. And you've invited yourself to the reading, too, when he said that he didn't want anyone to hear. I don't understand why we can't do the same."

"You know nothing about he's been through!" Ron yelled. "About what we've all been through!"

"That's the problem! You three never let anyone in!" Ginny snapped, losing her temper.

It was something that had always frustrated her. When she had found out that Ron was best friends with Harry Potter, she had been sure that that was her chance to get closer to him. Of course, it hadn't worked that way since she hadn't been able to bring herself to talk in front of him in spite of how polite he had been. But she had got over that and she had hoped that she would be included in their adventures then, that she would be part of the rumours the students whispered in the corridors.

That had never happened. The three of them had clumped up every time she had tried to get included in one of those conversations in hushed tones. They never told her anything, like she was just a little girl that couldn't be told anything important.

It was something that bothered a bit all of the Weasleys, but none as much as Ginny. She was the one closest in age to them, just a year younger than Harry, and she was still left in the dark. Why couldn't they see that she wanted to help, that she wanted to be part of that?

"It's not your business!" Ron yelled, not caring how they were the focus of attention of everyone in the common room.

"And is it yours?!" She argued. "Why can't we help Harry, too?!"

"This isn't about that, Ginny," Harry intervened before Ron could continue the screaming match with his sister.

"Then what is it about, Harry?" She asked annoyed.

Harry sighed and racked a hand through his hair, avoiding all the gazes fixed on him. "You don't know what you're talking about. You don't know..."

"Then let us find out," she snapped impatiently. "Why don't you want us to know?"

Now Harry was getting annoyed, too. "I don't have to let anyone read my life. I've lived through it and it's not pretty and whatever you don't know you don't need to know."

"Why don't you want to let us help?" She asked, making an effort not to shout again. "You can't do everything on your own, Harry."

"I don't do everything on my own," he said angrily. "I have people who help me every time."

"You're talking about Ron and Hermione, aren't you?" She said through gritted teeth.

"Yes," Harry nodded, not an ounce of shame on his face. His two best friends had helped him through everything and they would help him with everything they didn't know about, but he refused to tell them. He didn't want them to know even more than they already knew about the Dursleys. It was too much as it was.

"We can help, too," Ginny argued.

"I don't want more people to find out," Harry replied stubbornly. Why couldn't have the books appeared when he was alone or just with Ron and Hermione? Why hadn't he hidden the box instead of announcing to the whole Great Hall that it had appeared? Everything would be so much easier now.

"Why?!" She snapped.

"Because, Ginny!" He said impatiently. It wasn't that difficult to understand. "It's my life and there are some things that I don't want anyone to know. I don't talk about them just like you don't talk about your first year."

That shut up the redhead rather quickly. It was true that she despised anyone even mentioning her first year to her. She didn't want to talk about it and she didn't want people to find out. But it wasn't the same. Harry wasn't the victim in those adventures he had, he was the hero and Ron and Hermione were right beside him, right where she wanted to stand, too.

"Ginny, I think Harry is right," Arthur said softly. He may not like it and it may sometimes drive him crazy with worry when he didn't know what had happened to those three, but he couldn't demand answers from them, not when two of them weren't really his kids. And Merlin knew that Ron was tightlipped about almost everything that had to do with those... 'adventures', for a lack of a better word, that they had.

"But it's also true that we want to help," Mrs. Weasley said determined. She agreed with her daughter, partially at least. Rather, she thought that Ron, Harry and Hermione shouldn't get involved in those things at all. They should just tell an adult what they found out and let them handle it. They were just kids.

Harry sighed tiredly and rubbed his scar distractedly. "I know you want, Mrs. Weasley. It's just that it isn't possible most of the time. And in this case... well, it wouldn't really be a big help, you know? It's just reading a few books and we can tell you anything pertinent about Voldemort."

"Harry, you're not leaving me out of this," Sirius said stubbornly. He was not letting his godson reading those books without him. He didn't know what exactly had happened that only Harry and his two best friends knew about, but he wanted to find out.

Harry pushed down his panic. If there was one person he didn't want to find out, it was Sirius. The man was really overprotective, almost as much as Mrs. Weasley but in a completely different way. He didn't smother with affection, but he worried and became reckless and did stupid things and wanted him to remain a kid when he couldn't do that. He hadn't been a kid for a long time now.

"Nor me," Remus said, looking at Harry cautiously. He knew that he didn't have much of a relationship with Harry compared to Ron and Hermione, but he thought that he deserved to know. Had things been a bit different, Harry would have grown up calling him Uncle Moony and that, in his opinion, entitled him to know what his honorary nephew had been through.

Harry wanted to tear his hair out. He didn't want this. He didn't want anyone to know what had happened in his fight against Quirrell in first year, or how close he had been to death in the Chamber of Secrets, or what he heard when the dementors got close. He didn't everyone to hear how bloody terrified he had been in everyone of those occasions, or what he thought every second of the day, or what his life with the Dursleys was like.

It was his life and he didn't want anyone to go around poking their noses into it. He didn't bother other people like that, did he? He didn't go around trying to find out what they thought and what they did and everything, so why did everyone else think that they had any right to do that with his life?

"I'm going for a walk," he announced abruptly, standing up and walking out of the common room before they could try to stop him.

"Well, that went well," Bill commented sarcastically.

"Shouldn't we bring him back?" Percy asked, staring disapprovingly at the door. "It's past curfew and Professor Dumbledore ordered all the students to go to their common rooms."

Ron snorted. "If you think you can find Harry and drag him back now, be my guest."

"I don't get it," Sirius said frustrated. "I could understand if he was against reading, but he just doesn't want us to read. Why?"

"That's a question many people has asked since Harry came to Hogwarts," George shrugged.

"It's not a question that has been answered yet," Fred said.

It bothered them a bit, but they understood. They also had secrets that they didn't want anyone to find out and Harry always respected that, so, in return, they did the same. It was enough for them to know that, just like Harry would help them in a heartbeat if they asked, the boy knew that they were there for him at a moment's notice. They only needed a word and they would help him in whatever way he needed. However, they also knew how capable and independent he was.

"But what exactly is he trying to hide?" The animagus insisted as his frustration grew. "I mean, I know what he was up to last year with the dementors and everything and it can't possibly be worse than that..."

He trailed off as everyone turned to look at Ron and Hermione, the ones who could judge accurately the truth in Sirius' statement. The two teenagers were avoiding all the gazes, refusing to look at them.

"Ron? Hermione?" Arthur asked quietly when they didn't say anything.

Ron sighed. "What do you want me to say, dad?" He asked tiredly. "That I'm not sure if Harry counts the dementors as his worst experience? Because I don't. We've been through a whole lot more than any of you know and Harry has been through even more things."

"And we're sure that Harry hasn't told us everything," Hermione chipped in. "There are always many details missing."

"So, he keeps secrets from you too?" Ginny asked, feeling a bit relieved. It was good to know that Harry didn't trust them with everything. Maybe there were even some things about the Chamber of Secrets that she knew and they ignored. It made her feel better, closer to Harry.

Ron glared at her, his temper rising quickly. He opened his mouth to snap at her, having had it with her and her jealousy of their friendship with their best friend. However, he was surprised when someone got to Ginny before him.

"Enough, Ginny," Hermione snapped, her eyes narrowed and angered. It was enough to make the smallest redhead reel back in surprise. It was the first time Hermione, who was usually so patient and kind with her, talked to her like that. "Of course there are things we don't know about Harry. There's one little thing called privacy that we respect, but it's enough that Harry knows that we're there for him. We know enough and there's a good reason he hasn't told us anything else."

The redheaded girl was taken aback by the sheer protectiveness shining in the brunette's eyes. "But surely you must want to know..." She argued weakly.

Hermione gritted her teeth. "It doesn't matter if we want to know or not. What matters is if us knowing would help Harry," she said. "Like Harry said, you don't want to talk about your first and nobody is making you do it. You must have realised that, if we read those books for the whole school to listen, they'll find out what happened to you, the entire truth. And it won't be any less horrible just because it will be from Harry's point of view. He had a year that was as bad as yours."

Ginny had gone pale in a couple of seconds. She hadn't thought about it that way. Everyone knew that she had been taken to the Chamber of Secrets and rescued by Harry and Ron, but nobody suspected that her involvement got further than that. Those who knew had kept it secret, but if they read the books, it would come out and she couldn't predict what the students reactions were going to be. Would they blame and ostracise her?

"Not so fun now, uh?" Ron said, with far less heat in his voice than before. He didn't want everyone to know what had happened to his little sister any more than she did.

There was a long silence then. The rest of the Gryffindor students were whispering among themselves while their little group was just uncomfortable. Sirius and Remus were dying to ask what they were talking about, what had happened in Ginny's first year and Harry's second one, but the faces around them weren't very inviting.

"So, what?" Sirius asked finally. "What are we supposed to do? Let Harry go on his own with the books and hope that he'll tell us what they say?"

He desperately wanted to be part of his godson's life. Not only was Harry the last connection he had to James and Lily, but he loved the kid. He wanted to be there for him and it frustrated him to know that Harry was keeping secrets, big secrets, from him. Why didn't Harry trust him?

When Harry had been born and Sirius had held him for the first time, the animagus had imagined what the future would be like. How he would be Harry's favourite uncle and how the boy would come to him with problems he didn't dare go to his parents with. Harry would trust him with everything and would never doubt that his Uncle Padfoot would be there to help him get into and out of trouble. Of course, things hadn't worked like that. Harry had only met him a few months prior and he had spent more time believing he had betrayed his parents than knowing that he was innocent.

...When he put it like that, it was no wonder that it took Harry a bit to trust him. Although, that didn't mean it didn't frustrate Sirius any less. His godson should be able to come to him with anything. If he was honest with himself, it saddened and made him a bit jealous that Harry seemed to trust Ron and Hermione more than him.

Said teenagers were currently exchanging a glance that hurt to look at because of how much it reminded him so much of the ones the Marauders used to share among them before life broke them.

"Yes," Hermione said resigned but determined. "You do exactly that if that's what he wants."

"'You'?" Charlie repeated with a raised eyebrow.

"We're not letting him read on his own," Ron said stubbornly.

"And why can you read with him while we can't?" Sirius asked. He didn't care how childish he sounded. This was his godson they were talking about and he had every right to know what was going on in his life.

Ron glared at him. "First of all, because you don't know half of what's in those books and you'd freak out, which won't help Harry at all."

"I won't freak out!" The animagus exclaimed indignant.

"Yes, you will," Ron contradicted him. Sirius would completely lose his mind with first year alone.

"And secondly, we said that we're not letting him read on his own, not that we would read with him," Hermione added. As much as it would pain her to do it, she would simply sit next to Harry doing something else while he read, just in case he needed help. And he would need it. "Can you honestly say that you would be able to be in the same room as him and not try to take a peek at what he would be reading?" She asked sternly.

Everyone else in the common room, even those the words weren't meant to, deflated at the same time. No, they wouldn't be able to do that.

"There you have it," Ron said when there was no answer.

"What if we could?" Molly fretted, wringing her hands together until her husband took them between his.

Hermione's face softened. "Mrs. Weasley, you know a little bit of what has happened the last three years. You know Harry's been hurt a lot and that he'll feel like he's hurt again when he's reading," she said quietly. "We've seen him hurt and in pain before, but he doesn't like people to see him like that. Nobody likes that. Just..."

"Don't make it harder than it's going to be for him," Ron bluntly finished for her when she couldn't find the words.

"We would never..." Molly began appalled.

"Mum, it took months before Harry admitted in front of us that he was in pain," Ron cut her off. "And he still doesn't like it. It may not be that big deal for you, but it is for him. So, no matter whether he decides to let us read or not or just some of us, we will all respect that decision. Is that understood?"

A stunned silence followed his words, but no one dared to question the redhead's words. They didn't know that boy could carry that kind of authority, but there wasn't a single protest in spite of the fact that nobody was happy. They knew deep down that it was Harry's decision, but the curiosity and the concern were driving them crazy. They needed to hear that story. Maybe then they could understand Harry a little bit more, like Ron and Hermione did.

"Well, we're going to bed," Fred announced when the common room was already half empty.

"It's been an exciting night and we will possibly have an even more exciting day tomorrow," George nodded.

There were murmurs as they climbed the stairs to their dormitory before Mr. and Mrs. Weasley stood up again. "We're going to see where we can sleep," Molly said, grabbing her husband's hand.

"Boys, are you coming or you'll figure it out later?" Arthur asked, looking at his three oldest sons, who didn't have a dormitory in the Gryffindor tower anymore.

"I'm going," Percy said, standing up tiredly.

"Yeah, I think we're coming with, too," Charlie yawned, stretching his hands above his head. He had had a busy day choosing the dragons that they were going to bring for the first task and he was exhausted.

"Night," Bill said over his shoulder to the rest of the group.

"I'm going to bed, too," Ginny said, looking sullen and disappointed as she disappeared upstairs without looking at them.

"Sirius? Are you coming with?" Remus asked. He had stood up to leave, but his childhood friend was staring at Ron and Hermione with a half angry and half devastated expression. "Sirius?"

"Why doesn't he trust me?" He asked the teenagers, ignoring his friend.

"It's not that he doesn't trust you," Hermione tried to explain soothingly. "He does."

"Not like he trusts you two," he replied simply. Because it was the truth. There was no one Harry trusted quite like he trusted Ron and Hermione.

Hermione pursed her lips, trying not to stare at him with pity. "It's more like... he doesn't want to tell you some things."

"Why?" He repeated frustrated. What had he done wrong? Harry knew that it wasn't his fault that he couldn't have been there for him for almost twelve years, that he had been in Azkaban, didn't he? He had to know that Sirius was trying now.

"You'll have to ask him that," Ron said, clenching his jaw stubbornly in a way that showed that they weren't going to give in on this.

Sirius gritted his teeth annoyed. "Can you at least tell me why he trusts you two then?" He asked desperately. What had they done that he hadn't?

Ron and Hermione shared a look. They knew the answer. They had been the first ones to stick with Harry through thick and thin and hadn't judged him for who he was. But they knew that that answer wouldn't satisfy Sirius nor would he like it.

"He has to be the one who explains that to you if he wants," Hermione answered with a tone of finality that made the animagus bristle. He whirled around and stomped out of the Gryffindor tower.

Remus sighed tiredly. He understood Sirius' frustration, but they couldn't do anything about it. "See you in the morning," he told the two teenagers before following his friend.

Ron and Hermione stayed sitting side by side for a minute.

The girl released all the air in her lungs. "Thank Merlin that's finally over," she sighed in relief.

"They sure can be persistent," Ron said, scrunching up his nose. "Think we should go look for Harry?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "Not yet," she decided. "Let's wait for a while. We can go if he isn't back in an hour."

"Finding him with the map will be easy," Ron nodded. Then he grinned. "A chess game in the meantime?"

Hermione grinned in amusement and rolled her eyes. "You enjoy that game too much," she grumbled, but she accepted.

*** TTC ***

"Sirius, slow down!" Remus shouted from behind, but the animagus didn't shorten his strides at all. With a disgruntled huff, the werewolf jogged to catch up. "Care to tell me what's in your mind?"

"You know what's in my mind," Sirius spat, not looking at him.

Remus studied him for a moment. His friend was frowning heavily and he was clearly annoyed and hurt and angry.

"Does it really bother you that much that you're not the first one Harry goes to when he has a problem?" He asked softly.

Sirius stopped so abruptly that Remus had to retrace a couple of steps. The animagus was glowering at him furiously, but he knew that the anger wasn't directed at him.

"He should, Remus," he growled. "When he has a problem like the ones everyone's suggesting he has, he should have gone to James and Lily. And since they aren't here, it's me he should look at for help, or you."

"But we weren't there," Remus said sadly.

"But we're here now!" Sirius exclaimed annoyed.

"He's grown up, Sirius," he pointed out gently. "He had to find other people to rely on."

"I know," Sirius scowled, looking away. His anger melt away, leaving behind just the raw pain. "I just don't understand why he can't include us in that. I thought... I thought that he understood why we couldn't be there for him, that he didn't blame us."

"I don't think he blames us," Remus argued, sounding much more confident than he felt. Truthfully, he wasn't sure a small part of Harry didn't resent them in the slightest. He sighed and laid a hand on Sirius' shoulder. "C'mon, Padfoot. Let's turn in for the night. We can talk to Harry in the morning."

*** TTC ***

The common room was already empty, except for Ron and Hermione. They were just finishing the chess game, which the redhead of course won by far, when the portrait opened again and Harry entered, shoulders hunched and hands curled into fists. They watched him let himself fall onto the couch, resting his head against the back. He looked much older than he was.

"I take it the walk didn't help much?" Ron asked as they began to put away the chessboard.

Harry sighed with his eyes fixed on the ceiling. "No," he said. He leant forward to look at them. "I don't know what to do."

Ron and Hermione shared a glance, trying to find out what to tell him.

"Don't get this wrong, Harry," Hermione began. "But I don't think you should read these books alone. You're going to be hurting at some parts and-"

"I know," Harry cut her off. He only had to remember the pain from his scar when he had touched Quirrel, or the way his vision had blurred when the basilisk fang had pierced his arm, or that he passed out when dementors got close, to know that he wouldn't be able to keep reading when he reached those parts. "I... I know I can't do it alone," he admitted. He hesitated and looked at them half ashamed and half pleadingly. "Can you...?"

"You don't have to ask, mate," Ron said immediately, not even allowing him to finish. He got to his feet and sat next to him, clapping his shoulder.

"We know what happened anyway," Hermione said, sending Harry a tiny smile.

Harry tried to return it, but it came out more like a grimace. "Not everything. There are a lot of things you don't know."

"About what happened every year?" Hermione asked. "Harry, we know that you didn't tell us all the details. It's okay."

"Not just that," Harry shook his head. They knew most details about those things, more than anyone and more than they thought.

"About the Dursleys?" Ron guessed knowingly. Harry's flinch was enough of an answer. "We know enough. Nothing that appears in the books will scare us away. You forget who went to rescue you the summer before second year."

"That wasn't the worst, Ron," Harry admitted, not looking at either of them. He hated talking about this, but he had to warn them. They deserved that much. "I don't know what will appear since I don't know when I've been thinking about what and I don't know which parts we'll read, but..."

"It's okay, Harry," Hermione said softly. She tried to sound normal in spite of the lump in her throat. Harry and Ron had told her what had happened that summer, how Ron and the twins had found Harry, and she didn't want to imagine what could be worse than that.

"It doesn't change anything," Ron promised fiercely. Except how much he wanted to punch the Dursleys, but that was beside the point. Nothing would change between the three of them.

"And the others?" Harry asked warily.

"What about them?" Ron replied with a frown.

"They're gonna want to listen and be there."

"Well, yeah," the redhead admitted. There was no point in trying to deny it. "They're curious."

"It's your choice, Harry," Hermione said firmly.

"But it won't be. Not really," the boy said angry and upset. "This, this is about Voldemort and about defeating him and Dumbledore and the professors and the Ministry workers are gonna want to know everything. They won't be happy unless they can read it from the books."

"As you said, they can't read the books unless you let them, Harry," Hermione comforted him. "They can't force your hand."

"What if they don't let me read them unless they're present?"

"Then you don't read them," she said simply.

"But we have to read them!" Harry exclaimed, standing up and starting to pace agitatedly. "We need every advantage we can get against Voldemort." He stopped and deflated. "It's not just that I don't want them to read my life or be there when I go through it again," he confessed, turning to send them a look of anguish. "Have you thought about how many rules and laws we've broken the last three years?"

Ron and Hermione paled slightly when they thought about that. It was one problem they hadn't considered, but it was a very real one. Just the year before —using a time turner like that, rescuing a magical creature sentenced to death, helping a fugitive escape— was enough to have them expelled and chucked into Azkaban and their wands snapped.

"Merlin's pants, my mum is gonna murder me if she reads those books," Ron said terrified.

Hermione sent him an exasperated look. "I think we're facing something a bit more grave than your mum's anger, Ron."

"That's because it's never been aimed your way," he shuddered. He grinned at her teasingly. "Besides, you're one to talk Mrs. Or-worse-expelled."

Hermione flushed as she remembered that occasion and swatted his arm hard. "Don't be a prat," she mumbled, but she had a tiny grin of amusement, too.

Harry couldn't fight the way his lips turned upwards. He wished they could be back to when the most exciting thing had been finding Fluffy on accident. That didn't solve their problems, though.

Hermione looked at Harry and her face softened at the worry she could see in spite of the happy grin. "Don't worry, Harry. We'll figure it out tomorrow. We always do, right?" She comforted him.

Harry's grin turned sad. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this. You wouldn't be in this mess if you had befriended anyone else," he said sadly. He hated that he put the people close to him in danger just by existing.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Now I know that you need sleep. You're being dramatic again," he scoffed. He picked up the box with the books and stood up to give Harry a push towards the stairs that led to their dormitory. "Night, Hermione. And you, you stubborn prat, we've told you a million times that we can make our own decisions so stop spurting that nonsense and go to sleep. You're gonna need it tomorrow."

Hermione snickered as she watched Ron bully Harry into going to bed and stop thinking. She knew that he was going to manage the former, but he was going to fail miserably on the latter. They said that she had a big brain, but it was Harry who had trouble turning his off sometimes.

Her mirth vanished when she was on her own. Harry had every right to be worried. She was worried sick, too, and so was Ron. Despite how many times they had repeated that it was Harry's choice whether to read the books or not and who was allowed to read them, they all knew deep down that there wasn't any choice. Not on this.

Anyone who knew Harry knew that he would want to read those books, no matter the cost to himself. The professors and Ministry officers just had to keep pressing on and Harry would give in on this. He couldn't not to.

With a sigh, she stood up to go to bed, too. She fervently hoped that her earlier words to Harry were true and that they would be alright.

*** TTC ***

Harry couldn't sleep. He had spent hours dozing off for a few minutes before being rudely woken up by one nightmare or another. His mind wouldn't stop picturing what the books were going to tell or how someone or another would react or how much trouble they would be in if anyone found out half the things that could appear there.

When the sky finally began to become clearer, Harry decided that enough was enough and threw his covers off. He needed to get out now. Throwing on some school robes and slipping his feet in his sneakers, he tiptoed to the door and went out.

The corridors were completely empty at this hour. He could see Durmstrang's ship and Beauxbatons' carriage outside through the windows he walked past, with no hint of any student there awake either.

He was lost in his thoughts, not thinking about where he was going, when he found his feet leading him up to the owlery. He didn't have any reason to change his course. He might as well see if Hedwig had rested after having hurried so much to deliver the letter to Sirius the day before.

The owlery was quiet, too, the silence only disturbed by the occasional soft hoot from an owl or the rustling of feathers. Looking up and searching for a minute, he found Hedwig perched on one of the rafts closest to the ceiling, her head tucked under a wing as she slept peacefully. Knowing how much Hedwig disliked having her sleep disturbed for no good reason, he decided to let her sleep and instead leant against the windowsill to look outside.

It was peaceful up there. He doubted that anyone would interrupt him at that ungodly hour and he could enjoy the view of Hogwarts' terrains slowly being filled with light. He could see the Forbidden Forest from there, as well as Hagrid's cabin. There wasn't smoke coming out of the chimney yet so the gamekeeper was still asleep. The huge horses from Beauxbatons were sleep, too, if the way they were almost completely still was any indication.

Harry didn't know how much time he spent up there. Maybe an hour or so, enough that he could now see clearly outside and some birds were beginning to fly over the treetops in the Forbidden Forest. However long it had been, it made Harry feel better.

He wasn't even startled when a rustle of wings sounded behind him and familiar claws landed on his shoulder.

"Morning, Hedwig," he muttered, not wanting to break the quiet. The owl hooted somewhat sleepily and nipped his ear fondly in greeting. "Yeah, I know I saw you just yesterday. I just needed a bit of quiet. Yesterday was a bit crazier than usual."

Hedwig wriggled to get comfortable on his shoulder and hooted again, making Harry smile. They stayed quiet again, until Harry saw a student from Beauxbatons come out of the carriage. If the students were waking up already, it was time to go back to the tower and get ready for the day.

"I'll see you soon, okay, girl?" Harry said, petting Hedwig fondly. "And I'll bring some sweets with me, alright?"

The owl hooted her approval, nipping his finger gently and taking flight to go find some mice to hunt outside. Grinning as he watched her become a white speck over the Forbidden Forest, he turned around to go back.

The last thing he expected, though, was to collide with someone who was coming up the stairs, apparently just as lost in their own thoughts as he was.

"Whoa! Look out!" He exclaimed, grabbing their arm before they could fall backwards. It took a bit of awkward moving around until they could both find their balance again. "Are you okay?" He asked, releasing their arm.

Her arm. It was a girl about his height, maybe an inch shorter than him, with straggly, long, blond hair, like she had just got out of bed and hadn't bothered to brush it —much like Harry himself. She was staring at him with grey eyes that seemed to stand out a lot on her face, giving her an odd appearance. It was especially enhanced by the necklace of butterbeer caps, the earrings made with orange radishes and the wand tucked behind her left ear.

Harry had always thought that nothing would baffle as much as some of Dumbledore's most eccentric robes or the decorations for the final of the Quidditch Cup, but this girl was gaining a lot of points.

"I'm fine," she smiled kindly. "Thank you very much for helping me. I do not think I would have liked to come up the stairs again."

Harry blinked. "Uh... right. No, I s'ppose not," he conceded.

She stared at him unblinkingly and tilted her head. "You're Harry Potter," she stated. It wasn't anything Harry hadn't heard a thousand times before when he met someone new, but this girl said it differently. There was no awe or disdain like it usually was accompanying his name. She was simply stating a fact, like 'it's a beautiful day, I'm wearing radishes on my ears and you're Harry Potter'.

Harry blinked again, totally confused. "I am," he said, wondering what he should do with that. "Who are you?" He blurted out without thinking.

The girl's smile widened, not looking offended by his rudeness. "I'm Luna Lovegood."

"Well, uh, it's nice to meet you," Harry fumbled. This girl was disconcerting to say the least. "I'm sorry I almost pushed you down the stairs. I wasn't looking where I was going."

Luna nodded thoughtfully. "No, I suppose you weren't. You're in quite a pickle, aren't you? I don't think I would have liked to have some books written about me."

Harry deflated, shoulders falling. "It certainly wasn't what I was expecting to happen yesterday," he said, sounding upset.

Luna stared at him once more. "Although, I suppose that it has its perks after all," she said.

"Does it?" Harry asked sceptically.

"They say hindsight is 20/20. These books will you that, won't they?"

"I... s'ppose," Harry had to agree since that was the only reason he wanted to read the books. That didn't make it easier. "I don't like what I'll have to do to get that hindsight you're talking about, though."

"Us Ravenclaws know that knowledge sometimes comes with a price," Luna nodded pensively.

"You're a Ravenclaw?" Harry blurted out. For some reason, he hadn't pictured this dreamy girl in the house of the people who pursued knowledge.

Luna nodded again. "It's an interesting house, don't you think? Although, I suppose you'd prefer Gryffindor."

Harry grinned a bit. "Yeah, I do."

There was a silence after that that began to stretch uncomfortably, at least for Harry. He was about to say goodbye to the odd girl and be on his way when Luna talked again.

"Knowledge is power, Harry Potter," she said. "Sometimes too much power to leave it for anyone to take and use, but sometimes it's not for us to decide who gets to take it or not."

Harry stared at her confused. "What are you talking about? About the books?"

"You don't want anyone to read them."

"Of course not!" He exclaimed with a frown. "It's my life they're telling. It's no one's business but mine."

"That may be, but perhaps you should give the writers of the letter a bit more credit," she replied, not bothered by his outburst.

Harry settled down, even more confused. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I think they know what they're doing, don't you?" She said calmly. "They could've sent you the letter and the books when you were alone instead of in the middle of the Great Hall with students from three different schools and officers from the Ministry present. But they didn't, and they brought even more people."

"So... you're saying that they wanted me to read the books with everyone," Harry stated more than asked. The worst thing was that Luna's words made sense. And that was annoying because it meant that all the plans he had been half cooking in his brain the whole night to be able to read the books just with Ron and Hermione were for nothing.

"It certainly seems so, doesn't it?" Luna hummed distractedly. "The letter did say that they would help a lot of people not make a few bad choices. These books are their second chance in a way, without having to do it wrong the first time."

Harry thought about it. Could whoever had sent the letter really know what they were doing? He had believed they were crazy for having brought Sirius, but now his godfather may have a chance to clean his name. Reading the books with everyone seemed like an even worse idea, but maybe... maybe they were onto something. It wasn't that farfetched to think that they knew something that he didn't when they were from the future.

With a heavy sigh, he resigned himself to the fact that his life was going to be the recurrent topic of conversation the following days. Why did these things had to happen to him?

"Thank you, Luna," he said, running a hand through his hair.

"You're quite welcome, Harry Potter," she said, smiling kindly.

"You can call me Harry, you know," he smiled, amused. "What are you doing up here so early anyway? I thought everyone would be asleep."

"Oh, I was looking for my shoes," she answered nonchalantly.

Harry blinked, caught of guard. His eyes traveled down until they found ten pale toes peeking out of Luna's school robes. "You've lost your shoes?" He asked. He looked up at her confused. "Wait. Why would your shoes be in the owlery?"

"Someone has taken them. People take my things sometimes and they hide them. My shoes were up here last time so I thought that maybe they would be here again," Luna explained, seemingly unbothered by it.

Harry's jaw dropped. He was no stranger to bullies, he had often been the target at one point or another, especially before coming to Hogwarts. They had bothered him, sure, but their mere mention had never sent the surge of fury that ran through him when Luna said people were bothering her. How could they bully this girl? Well, he could see why she was a target, with her odd appearance and even odder personality, but still. How dare they bully Luna? The short time he had talked with her, she had been nothing but sweet and kind with him and had helped him set his head straight.

"Who does that to you?" He asked angry.

She waved a hand dismissively. "Just people," she said. "Maybe it was the nargles, though. They like to hide things sometimes. That's why I've begun to wear this," she said, tugging at her necklace of butterbeer caps. "To keep them away."

"Nargles?" Harry repeated confused. He was beginning to wonder if this was the common feeling people had around this girl. "What are nargles?"

"Oh, they're little creatures that like to steal people's things and they return them much later, but I kind of need my shoes now, so I was looking for them," she said happily.

Deciding to push the nargles to the back of his mind for the moment, Harry went back to the main problem. "And you think they're in the owlery?" He asked sceptically.

"Maybe. Both people and nargles find it funny for some reason."

Looking at Luna's bare feet and remembering how the floor of the owlery was usually dropping-strewn, Harry could only think that it was more cruel than funny. It wasn't funny at all. And if those nargles, whatever they were, agreed with bullies, perhaps Harry was going to have to start wearing butterbeer caps around his neck to keep them away, too.

"I've just been there, but I haven't seen any shoes, Luna," he said, trying to keep his voice even. "I'm gonna take another look just in case, alright? Just, don't enter the owlery until we find you some shoes, okay?"

Luna smiled. "That's very chivalrous of you, Harry. Thank you," she said as he walked back inside.

He searched the entire room, making sure he didn't miss anything, but Luna's shoes weren't there.

"I can't find them, Luna. I'm sorry," he apologized with a frown as he returned. He knew it wasn't his fault, but he couldn't help but feel sorry for her. She didn't deserve this.

The girl frowned for an instance before smiling again. "That's alright, Harry," she said. "I'll look for them later, after we finish reading for today."

Harry clenched his jaw. It was the first day of November and, while the inside the castle wasn't as cold as the outside, it was still a castle made of stone in Scotland. Luna's bare feet had to be frozen and she was going to get sick at this rate.

"C'mon," he decided on the spot, grabbing her hand and leading her in the opposite direction. "We're gonna find you some shoes until we can find yours."

"Oh," she seemed surprised at this. "That's very kind of you, but not really necessary."

"I know," Harry said, gritting his teeth. "I still want to do it."

"Oh. Okay," she said, linking her arm through his and walking beside him with a skip in her steps.

Harry grinned amused and walked her to the Gryffindor tower.

"Morning," he greeted the Fat Lady when they reached the portrait. "Balderdash."

"Morning," she yawned. "And good morning to you, too, dear," she added, smiling at Luna.

"Good morning, ma'am," the girl smiled pleasantly as the portrait turned on its hinges.

"Harry!" A voice greeted them when they entered. Hermione was in the common room with a crossed expression on her face. "Where were you?"

"I couldn't sleep," he shrugged. "Where's Ron? Still sleeping?"

"No. He's just gone up for the map to look for you," she explained.

"Hermione!" The redhead's voice came down the stairs. "It makes no sense! It says he's..." He trailed off as he entered and his eyes fell on his best friend. "Here," he finished with a deadpanned voice.

"Morning," Harry grinned wryly.

Ron scowled at him. "Couldn't you have left a note before you disappeared?"

"I didn't know you would wake up before I came back," Harry said defensively. "I just bumped into Luna here and-"

"Luna? Who's Luna?" Ron asked bewildered.

"I'm Luna. Luna Lovegood," the girl waved her hand happily.

"And these and Ron and Hermione," Harry introduced them quickly.

"Uh, alright," Ron said slowly. His eyes went from the radish earrings to the butterbeer caps to the wand behind her ear to the crest on her chest. He frowned. "Harry, why have you brought a Ravenclaw to the tower?"

"She needs shoes," Harry stated firmly.

Ron and Hermione's eyes went to the are toes that were visibly wriggling under the school robes.

"O-kay," the boy said slowly. Maybe he was missing something here. "Why doesn't she have shoes? Why does she have to come here to get a pair?"

"The nargles took them. Or maybe some people," Luna said distractedly as she looked around with a curious expression. "You have a beautiful common room. I like it," she declared.

Ron blinked and looked at Harry, who only shrugged. He returned his gaze to the blond girl. "Thanks?" He said hesitantly.

"You say that people took your shoes?" Hermione asked with a heavy frown.

Luna hummed, still looking around. "Maybe. I still think it could have been the nargles. I'm positive they're the ones who have taken my favourite t-shirt too."

Hermione opened her mouth to ask what nargles were. She had never heard of something like that. But Harry interrupted her.

"Hermione, can you do something about the shoes?" He pleaded with her. He had no idea where to get a pair of shoes that Luna would be able to use since the only other pair of shoes he had were the sneakers the Dursleys had given him about six years prior and that were falling to pieces. But if anyone could find another pair of shoes, it would be Hermione.

His best friend stared at him for a second. She sighed and rolled her eyes. "I'll be right back," she said as she went to her dormitory. She came back a minute later with a pair of white sneakers and white socks. "Here. You can use mine until we can find yours. These are starting to be a bit too tight for me so I think they'll fit you."

"Thank you, Hermione," she smiled, taking them and putting them on. "They fit quite nicely."

"You're welcome," Hermione said, smiling politely.

"Where are the others?" Harry asked.

"Ginny and the twins have gone to breakfast already. I s'ppose the others will too," Ron shrugged, his eyes wandering back to the blond girl who was humming under her breath. What was with her?

"We should get going," Harry sighed. "Just let me grab the first book."

He darted upstairs and opened his trunk, where he had put the books the night before. His eyes were drawn towards the letter. He knew that handwriting from somewhere, but he couldn't put his finger on it. It was like it had changed a lot since whatever he remembered it from. He hoped that whoever it belonged to knew what they were doing and that Luna was right when she said that the books were meant to be read by everyone.

When he looked at the books again, wondering how he was going to know which one was the first one since they had mixed them up the night before, he almost gasped in surprise. There, on the front cover of the thinnest one, the dark Gryffindor red one, golden-coloured words had appeared where it had been blurry the night before.

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.

Well, that took care of the problem. There was no doubt what year that book talked about. He grabbed it and closed his trunk again before going back downstairs. The sight that greeted him almost made him laugh. Luna was still humming, swinging back and forth on the balls of her feet, while Ron stared at her baffled and amused and Hermione was frowning in confusion.

"Ready?" The brunette asked when she saw him.

"Ready," Harry nodded. "Let's go. We shouldn't keep them waiting any longer."

Ron and Hermione stared at his back stunned. "Waiting?" They repeated as they hurried to catch up.

"You've changed your mind? You're gonna let them read the books with us?" Ron asked. He wasn't sure whether he agreed with this or not. The others would certainly be happier and they would stop pester them about the books, but Harry, Hermione and he were going to get into a lot of trouble.

"Yeah," Harry nodded simply, sending a brief look at the blond walking next to them. It didn't go unnoticed by his two best friends.

"She convinced you?" Hermione asked, not bothering to hide her surprise. "You convinced him?" She asked the girl, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

"I merely said that whoever sent the books must have had a reason to give them to him in front of everybody instead of doing it when they knew that he would be alone," the blond shrugged calmly.

"You say that they wanted everyone to know what we've been up to?" Ron asked sceptically.

"It makes sense," Hermione said grudgingly. "If they're powerful enough to put Hogwarts in a time bubble, make these books and bring people to the castle in spite of the wards, they could've given Harry the books whenever. They wanted people to know about them, and probably read them, too."

"But why?" Ron asked frustrated.

"Second chances," Harry answered.

"What?"

"To give people second chances without them having to fuck up the first ones," the boy said, repeating Luna's words. More or less.

"And you have to pay the price so that these people have a second chance?" Ron snarled, not happy at all.

Harry faltered, but then he strengthened his resolve. "Maybe it will be worth it."

"And maybe not," his best friend snapped. It was going to be difficult enough to read these books without everyone witnessing it and wanting to add their opinions.

"Maybe," Harry shrugged. "But I think I'm gonna trust whoever sent the letter. Sirius is getting a chance to be free because of them."

That made Ron falter in return. "Mate, that's some messed up logic..."

"The whole situation is messed up, Ron," Harry pointed out. There was nothing normal about this, and, taking into account how lousy his definition of normal was, that was saying something.

"I don't like it, Harry," Hermione said, pursing her lips.

Harry hesitated. "Me neither. But I have an idea so that we at least don't get into trouble, okay?"

"What idea?" The girl asked warily. Harry's ideas tended to be a bit... drastic.

"A good one. You'll see," he promised as they entered the Great Hall.

It was brimming with students. It seemed like everyone had got up early at the prospect of possibly finding out what Harry Potter and his two best friends had done the last three years and what they would be doing in the future. Most heads turned towards them when they entered, even from those wearing blue or red robes, but they did their best to ignore it.

"See you later, Harry. Thank you for the shoes, Hermione. It was nice to meet you, Ron," Luna said dreamily as she skipped towards the Ravenclaw table.

Ron grinned amused. "She's weird, but I think I like her."

Heads turned as they walked towards the Gryffindor table. Harry could practically feel the hundreds of eyes glued to the book in his hands, but he took care to keep the front cover with the title hidden. He had already checked and the pages were still blank while the covers were still the same plain Gryffindor red.

"Good morning," he said as they took a seat. There were three free places, like they had been saved for the three of them. It wouldn't have surprised him.

There were several greetings in return, but every eye was fixed on the red book on his lap with the cover down.

"Harry..." Sirius began hesitantly. He wanted to ask him if he had changed his mind, or make up his mind or whatever. He needed to know if Harry was going to let them join the reading.

"Can you pass me the jelly, Sirius?" Harry interrupted as he grabbed some toast.

The animagus sighed, handing him the bottle and shutting up about the book. He could take a hint from time to time.

Breakfast was an awkward affair, full of whispers and forced conversations. People kept shooting glances at Harry's plate to see if it was already empty. It was enough to make the boy consider eating more than usual just to annoy everyone and delay the reading, but even he wasn't that cruel. And he may be a bit influenced by the fact that the night before he had been just as impatient as them as he waited for Dumbledore to finish his dinner. Perhaps if the headmaster had finished earlier, they wouldn't be in this conundrum.

As soon as Harry laid his empty cup of pumpkin juice on the table and he didn't reach for anything else, Dumbledore stood up. It seemed like even the professors and the Ministry officers had been waiting for him to finish. He was surprised that nobody had tried to make him hurry.

"Good morning, everyone," the old headmaster said pleasantly. "First of all, I would like to introduce the newcomers that appeared yesterday. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks-"

"Just Tonks," the pink-haired witch said with a hint of a growl as she stood up next to the tall black wizard.

"Who are aurors from the Ministry," Dumbledore continued like he hadn't been interrupted. "Arthur Weasley, who works in the Department of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, and his wife Molly Weasley. Their sons William Weasley, who works for Gringotts breaking curses; Charles Weasley, who works with dragons in Rumania; and Percival Weasley, who works in the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

Dumbledore tactfully didn't mention how his boss was the same man they had found controlled under the Imperius Curse the day before. The poor boy was already beating himself up about it enough without adding more fuel to the fire.

"Many of you may remember Remus Lupin, who was the professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts last year here at Hogwarts-" Dumbledore was interrupted once more, this time by many students who cheered for their ex-professor.

Remus blushed at the reaction, an embarrassed but pleased grin splitting his face in two. He would have never imagined that almost none of the students cared about his furry little problem.

"Who knew that Professor Moony would be so popular one day?" Sirius teased him, elbowing him in the ribs.

"Sirius Black, which I'm sure all or most of you heard about last year," Dumbledore continued when the noise decreased. "If the letter was right, we will all be learning the truth about him and his past in one of the books."

Harry clenched his jaw. He hated how Dumbledore was already taking for granted that they were going to read the books. What about his opinion? Didn't it count for anything? Whether it did or not for Dumbledore, the headmaster was going to hear it and he was going to respect it.

"And finally, Alastor Moody, the real one this time," the old man finished.

The ex-auror was sitting not far from Dumbledore. He was thinner than the imposter had been, which came to reason when they remembered that he had spent a few months prisoner, and he was missing a few chunks of hair, probably used for the Polyjuice Potion. He was scowling at everybody around him and he had one hand buried inside the pocket of his jacket. They didn't need to belong to Ravenclaw to know that he had a death grip on his wand. If the man had been paranoid before, everyone immediately decided that it would be suicide to try to catch him off guard now.

"Poor man," Hermione muttered under her breath.

"And poor us," Ron moaned. "He's gonna be a nightmare as a teacher if he stays when the classes begin again."

"I'm certainly not gonna approach him from behind," Harry declared. He didn't want to receive a nasty curse to the gut just because the man hadn't seen him coming or hadn't heard him.

"Now that the introductions are out of the way, we will begin reading the books-" Dumbledore said happily, clapping his hands like he was ecstatic with what they were going to do.

"No," Harry interrupted firmly, making everyone turn to look at him.

The headmaster's smile faltered. "No?"

"No," the boy repeated. "My life, my decisions. It's that simple, Professor. And, quite frankly, I don't want anyone to read it-"

"Preposterous!" Karkaroff interrupted, hitting the table with his fist. "Boy, this isn't something you have a say in."

Harry narrowed his eyes at the challenge. "Isn't it? I believe the letter said that you need my approval to read the books."

"Dumbly-dorr, are you going to tolerate this kind of defiance?" Madame Maxime asked disapprovingly.

"Mr. Potter has always had a few... privileges that allow him to get out of line more often than any other student," Snape sneered.

"Except that this isn't a normal situation, Severus," McGonagall came to his defense. "I'm not sure we can even consider it part of the school activities."

"'e should still respect 'is 'eadmaster," Madame Maxime huffed.

"I do respect Professor Dumbledore," Harry intervened again. "I just don't like how you all assume you're gonna be present for the reading."

This was followed by an instant of stillness before the Great Hall erupted into chaos. The Gryffindors had already heard this the night before in the common room, but the rest of the school was shocked and indignant. In the end, Dumbledore had to shoot fireworks with his wand to calm everyone down.

"Mr. Potter," he said when it was quiet again. "I'm sure you know that this is a matter of utter importance in which we should be present, at least the school staff and the Ministry officers."

That caused all the students to begin protesting again. What did he mean by that? That they couldn't be present? No way. This was their opportunity to learn what had been going on in Hogwarts with Harry and his two friends.

When Dumbledore managed to quiet everyone again, he continued. "You can't possibly want to keep that information secret, Mr. Potter."

"As a matter of fact, that was the initial plan," Harry admitted, ignoring all the complains. "I planned to hide with Ron and Hermione until we finished the books and we would then share the important information with everyone. I'm sure we would've managed to hide and evade everybody for long enough."

And they would have. They knew the school pretty well and they had the invisibility cloak and the Maraders' map. It would have been quite difficult for anyone to catch them.

"However," he continued, rising his voice to be heard above the noise growing in volume. Everyone quietened in an instant. "Someone pointed out to me that if the books were sent to me in front of the three schools and several Ministry workers and they even brought more people, it was probably because they wanted those people to listen."

Many people looked at Ron and Hermione, especially the latter. If anyone was capable of making the stubborn Gryffindor change his mind, it could only be them. No one seemed to remember the blond Ravenclaw that had arrived at the same time as them.

"That's good," Dumbledore smiled satisfied. "Then we can proceed with the reading..."

"Not yet, Professor. I'm sorry," Harry cut him off again. He wished they would stop getting ahead of themselves so that he wouldn't have to keep interrupting the headmaster. It was awkward doing that and he was beginning to feel quite rude.

"Dumbledore!" Karkaroff exclaimed outraged at that blatant lack of respect.

Harry ignored him. "I have one condition first," he said. "No one will have to face any kind of consequences for anything we read in the books. They were sent to help and fix mistakes, not to punish for past or future actions."

"You've done something big that will get you into trouble, haven't you, Potter?" Snape smirked triumphantly. He could still get that brat expelled.

"Maybe," Harry answered. "You'll have to read the books to find out and none of you will find out unless you swear there won't be consequences for anyone here."

"You insolent brat, you can't blackmail us like that," the head of Slytherin glared furious.

Harry glared back, not intimidated at all. "It's not blackmail, Professor," he said. It took all his self-control to call him that, but he knew that he couldn't push it even more than he was already doing it. "It's called setting a few limits so that these bloody books can't be used against me and who I care about. It's my life and I'm not gonna enjoy having it in the open for everyone to comment on it. The last thing I want is to have to face punishments or expulsions for things I had to do for one reason or another. And they were always good reasons."

"Dumbly-dorr, you can't possibly agree wiz zis," Madame Maxime said incensed. If a student had done something bad enough to deserve an expulsion, he had to get it no matter how the infraction had come to light.

Dumbledore was staring at Harry pensively. He knew that look of pure stubbornness on his student. He knew that Harry wouldn't give in on this. He had known that he would have to fight Harry to manage to be allowed to read the books and the teenager had already agreed to that. He wasn't going to give in on anything else.

"Very well," he agreed, silencing every single person that was making his opinion known.

"What?" Snape hissed furious.

"It's a reasonable request," the headmaster replied. "This is a unique occurrence and it wouldn't be fair to use it to punish anyone when its purpose was the complete opposite, to give second chances." He looked around with his eyebrows raised. "Besides, can anyone here be totally sure that there will be nothing... compromising about them in these books?"

No one spoke up. Truthfully, no one was sure about what they were going to find out. Everyone in Hogwarts knew that Harry found out secrets almost on accident and that he was usually in the thick of things. They didn't want to risk something bad being about them.

"I guess we agree then," Dumbledore smiled after a minute when no one said anything. He returned his gaze to Harry. "Something else, Mr. Potter?"

"Just that we stop the reading if I, or anyone else, need a break," the boy said after thinking for a moment.

"Of course," the headmaster nodded. That was just common sense. "Now, please, if everyone could draw their wands and repeat after me to make the oath. Remember that anyone who doesn't make it won't be able to listen and will forget everything."

There was a rustle of robes as everybody hurried to draw their wands. Nobody wanted to miss this, even if they weren't happy about having to make an oath.

"Wait! I don't have a wand!" Sirius called panicked. If he didn't have a wand, he wouldn't be able to make the oath. And if he wasn't able to make the oath, he wouldn't be able to find out what his godson had been up to.

"Here," Harry said, pulling out his own to lend it to him. "You can use mine to make the oath."

The animated relaxed, taking the wand gingerly and examining it carefully. It was a good wand, a very good one. "Thanks, Harry," he said relieved.

"Alright, everyone. Repeat after me, just changing my name with yours," Dumbledore called them to attention. "I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, swear on my magic that I won't reveal the existence of the books connected to one Harry James Potter or their contents to anyone who isn't already aware of this knowledge."

There was a cacophony of voices as everyone repeated the oath, word by word, and everybody slowly fell silent again. They were fidgeting nervously because it was the first magical oath for many of them. Those who hadn't known what it was had learnt the night before the consequences of breaking one and they hadn't liked them. None of them wanted to lose their magic and risk their life in the process.

"I think this will suffice, won't it, Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore asked, looking at his student. He smiled pleased when he received a nod in response. "Wonderful. Then, if you could be so kind as to bring that book you're holding here so we can begin reading."

Harry sighed and stood up to hand the book to his headmaster. "I'll bring the next one when we finish this one. Is that okay with you, Professor?" He asked. He would really feel better if he knew that the books were safe and nobody would steal them and begin reading on their own, which would not be fun for him.

Dumbledore nodded. "If you feel more comfortable that way, Mr. Potter," he replied, guessing where his thoughts were going.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry nodded in relief before going back to his seat.

"Everyone, if you could please stand up for a moment," Dumbledore asked, looking at his colleagues and the aurors to include them in this request.

Everyone obeyed with a wide range of reactions, from curiosity to annoyance to impatience. However, there were only happy exclamations when the tables and hard benches were substituted with comfortable couches, armchairs and puffs of different colours.

"That's much better," the old headmaster said satisfied as he took a seat in a maroon armchair with a tall back rest. He watched amused as the students hurried to take places next to their friends and pushed the couches together.

"Hey, Charlie," the pink-haired witch said as she walked over to the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione and the two Marauders. "Mind if I join you? If I stay with Kingsley and the others a minute longer, I'm gonna go nuts."

Charlie chuckled and pushed Bill, whom he was sharing a couch with, so he would scoot over. "You just missed me. C'mon, admit it," he teased her. They had been on the same year in Hogwarts, but they hadn't talked much since they had graduated.

The metamorphmagus snorted. "Those dragons sure have given you more than a bump to the head if you believe that."

Charlie grinned. "Ouch," he mock-gasped, raising a hand to his chest. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you haven't missed me."

Tonks grinned at him, not giving him an answer.

"Just put him out of his misery," Bill groaned. "He won't shut up otherwise."

"You know each other?" Ginny asked. She had chosen an armchair where she was curled with her feet under her.

"We were friends at Hogwarts," Charlie grinned. "You probably don't remember her. I'm not sure you even met her."

"I'm unforgettable, Charles Weasley," Tonks huffed, her hair changing to deep purple and her nose turning into a pig snout.

Ginny gasped. "I remember you!"

Tonks grinned and returned to her previous appearance. "Course you do," she said, smirking at Charlie. "See? Unforgettable."

"How did you do that?" Harry asked wide-eyed.

The witch smirked at him. "I'm a metamorphmagus. I can change my appearance at will. Useful for an auror."

"Can anyone learn to do that?" He asked eagerly.

"It's an ability that's inherited, Harry," Hermione explained, knowing what he was thinking. Sometimes Harry just wanted to disappear and stop being stared at, to simply blend with the crowd so they would leave him alone. It had become less bothersome over the years, but it was still annoying.

Harry deflated disappointed. "Oh."

"Sorry, Harry," Tonks shrugged. "She's right."

Slowly, every student found a seat they were pleased with and they turned to look at Dumbledore. It was then that he made a mistake.

"Who wants to start reading?" He asked.

A cacophony of voices exploded, hands rose in the air, students stood up on their seats to try to be seen better, arguments began, a few children ended up sprawled on the floor when they were pushed accidentally or not so accidentally.

"Enough!" Dumbledore's voice boomed in the Great Hall, silencing every discussion instantly. "This won't do at all," he sighed. He was going to say that it would better if only the adults read since they couldn't agree on anything, but a high-pitched voice caught his attention.

"If I may, Albus," Flitwick said, holding out his hand to take the book. "I know a spell that would be perfect for this occasion."

"Thank you, Filius," Dumbledore sighed gratefully, handing over the book. It would certainly make things easier if they didn't have to argue about who read what.

The tiny professor waved his wand over the book, which rose into the air until it was floating about a foot above everybody's head.

"There," he said satisfied. "It's a spell that I've used on many an occasion when I wanted to read a book while I did something else. Now the book will read itself aloud and, like a person would if interrupted, it will stop if someone talks."

Hermione gasped. "That's brilliant!" She gushed, itching to go ask the professor of Charms how to do that spell. It would be incredibly useful and she could see that she wasn't the only one interested in learning how to do it.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Mad, that's what she is," he murmured under his breath so that only Harry, who was sitting between them on the couch, would hear him.

Harry smirked. He knew that the spell could come in handy, but he had to agree with Ron that Hermione seemed a little too excited about it.

"Is everyone ready?" Dumbledore asked.

"Wait!" A blonde girl from Beauxbatons exclaimed. She was the veela girl that had come for the bouillabaisse to the Gryffindor table. "'ow do we know zat is ze first book? You said yesterday zey were blank."

"Très bien, Ms. Delacour," Madame Maxime smiled approvingly. She looked back at Dumbledore with a raised eyebrow. "Et bien, Dumbly-dorr?"

"Excuse me, Madame Maxime," Harry intervened. "I'm the one who knew that was the first one. It was the only one with the title complete this morning and, well, I've lived through it and the title says it all."

"And what is zat title?" The headmistress asked.

"Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone," Harry answered. Murmurs broke out across Great Hall. "I know it doesn't make sense right now, but it will when we're further along in the story."

"Very well," Madame Maxime nodded.

"Then, let's begin," Dumbledore said satisfied. "Filius, please," he said nodding towards the book.

The tiny professor happily waved his wand at the book and it opened on the first page.