It only took eleven words to bring everything crashing down. Words from Hermione, who everyone knew was the smartest witch of her generation, to the Gryffindors, who everyone knew that while headstrong, brave and courageous, weren’t rivalling Ravenclaw when it came to intelligence.

“I bet you think he faked the Chamber to fool everyone!” Hermione said, glaring daggers at Ron.

The sarcasm should have been obvious to even the most ignorant, and for all his faults, Ron Weasley was not ignorant. Which was what made his next statement far more painful; whether it was jealousy, anger, or maliciousness, Harry would never know.

“Exactly, I’m glad you say it publically now, after all the conversations we’ve had about it.”

Hermione had looked shocked, and unable to form a coherent reply. To the other Gryffindors, that silence had been the equivalent of her shouting “He’s guilty.”

“In which case, he’s more of a snake than a lion,” Weasley continued. And Harry’s mental referral to him with his surname was as conscious as it was permanent. “I call for expulsion. His fraud, entering the Triwizard Tournament has dragged the name of Gryffindor through the mud.”

Harry opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“The accused cannot defend themselves,” A seventh year announced piously in a way that made Harry want to punch him. The boy then made a show of putting his wand away.

Harry looked around, and saw the glares; he saw that some students were scared, that others were following. Then he felt his magic start to build.

“Stupefy.”

When he awoke, he was alone, outside the Common Room, draped on top of his trunk. After swearing a few times, he headed to McGonagall’s office.

“Mr Potter?” the Head of House asked, as she opened the door to her office.

“I think I’ve been chucked out of Gryffindor.”

“You think?” McGonagall said, using the prim tone she reserved for wrong answers in class.

“One moment I was being put on some sort of trial where I couldn’t even defend myself, the next I was unconscious out of the door.”

McGonagall sighed. “Wait here, Mr Potter.”

Harry shrugged, dragged his trunk in to her office, and sat on it. And as he did, he realised his school Quidditch career was over, and that he still had to take part in this utterly ridiculous tournament. He sighed and waited. And waited.

After half an hour, the door opened. McGonagall entered, along with Professor Dumbledore.

“Well, I’m sorry, Mr Potter, but the Gryffindors have voted to expel you.”

“Really? For what?” Harry asked, keeping a firm grasp of his temper.

“For bringing the House into disrespect,” McGonagall said weakly.

“Let me get this straight,” Harry replied, trying to keep his voice level. “Through no fault of my own I have been entered into this tournament against my will, and with no way of defending myself, I have been chucked out of the house that was supposed to be my family?”

McGonagall looked away as she nodded.

“And where, exactly, am I going to stay now?”

“Unfortunately, the rules require that you stay in the castle. We will find a room somewhere.”

“Wonderful,” Harry said. “And you, of course, agree with this, Professor Dumbledore?”

The headmaster sighed. “Mistakes are often made, Mr Potter. What matters is how you respond to them.”

Harry looked at him for a long moment. “I see,” he said slowly. “I should be grateful, I suppose, that at least I have my stuff. Who, in future, do I take any problems to?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I can hardly take them to you, Professor,” Harry said, looking at his ex-Head of House. “I am no longer a Gryffindor, am I?”

“I-I don’t know,” McGonagall replied.

It took every ounce of Harry’s will power to not to say something sarcastic. Instead, he picked up one end of his trunk and started to drag it out of the office. Dumbledore waved his wand, and it started to float, which allowed him to move it easier. McGonagall lead him to a small unmarked room with no window. It did have an en-suite bathroom, though.

It was bigger than a cupboard.

“What about my lessons?” he asked.

“What about them?”

“Do I get a new timetable, now that I’m not a traitorous cowardly lion?”

McGonagall winced, and then shook her head.

“And I presume this means that I will get zero help in this competition?”

“I am afraid so.”

Harry nodded, and shut the door in her face. She had been as useless as he had expected. Just like Dumbledore.

Every time he turned around, humans were letting him down. They always called him a freak, yet, he had never done anything wrong. It was them that acted freakishly, even letting him defend himself was supposedly against the rules that these humans lived by.

But when had rules applied to him? When had he been rescued? Once, when he was in a bedroom rather than all the times he had been in his cupboard. So perhaps he was the freak after all. And maybe, seriously, that was a good thing, given how humans acted.

He kicked the bed, but all that did was make his foot hurt. He took his wand out to blast it, but managed to stop himself. He somehow just knew that no replacement would be given him if he did destroy it.

Instead, he punched the wooden door, and while that felt good for half a second, the subsequent pain had him trying out some swear words he’d never said before. And that lead to a tear filled rant that he’d never admit too.

In the morning, he woke up late, determined not to let the humans get him down. But, before he could leave for breakfast, a plate of food turned up on the room’s small desk.

“Great,” he muttered. “Not even welcome for food, eh?”

He ate, and then showered and got ready for the day. He also checked his trunk, and was relieved that everything was in place. Whether that was down to the lock or the latent goodness of the Gryffindors, he didn’t know. He suspected the former.

The day went as well as he could expect. He was shunned by most, and taunted by the rest. He ignored them as much as he could, if only to avoid issues. Hermione gave him some apologetic looks, but that was it. And honestly, looks were about as useful as they were valuable.

Clearly, the peer pressure had worked – and why would he expect a human to stand up to other humans for a freak like him?

His first class was Potions, and as soon as it started Snape deducted fifteen points which suddenly made Harry realise something very interesting. Points were no longer relevant to him. So it was with a sense of pleasure that he stood and turned off the flame under his cauldron, and packed everything away.

“Potter, twenty points from Gryffindor!” Snape yelled.

“Yeah, well fuck you, bitch,” Harry replied cheerfully. He walked out, ignoring the yells of more point deductions and detentions.

It was petty and childish, but felt good. He headed up to the library and borrowed a bunch of books, and then retreated to his room.

The room wasn’t that bad; it had more space than he’d grown up in, he actually had food now, and he had a shower and a toilet that he didn’t have to share. He didn’t really need that much more. It even had a convenient small table by the door, where he could empty his pockets.

So, he swallowed some of his anger, and started to read. It had been a long time since he had read because he had nothing better to do, not since before he had started Hogwarts, and in a way, it was like revisiting an old friend. He’d read a lot of books in the cupboard under the stairs, using a “borrowed” flashlight.

Hermione, no, Granger, now, had kinda put him off books once he arrived at Hogwarts, what with her incessant reading and referencing and nagging. But now that he was on his own, he couldn’t rely on humans. And that was fine.

He ate dinner – it was edible, and he didn’t have to make it himself, so it was enough.

After he finished, he settled down on the bed, and continued to read. He’d picked up a second year book on charms that he hadn’t actually read during that year. He was stunned to find out how much that he’d missed.

But that was what humans did. Humans were lazy or obsessed. He didn’t know what freaks were; he’d been trying not to be a freak for so long.

Doing as the Dursleys seemed wrong, just on a personal level, having such a lack of respect for his own body. Doing as Weasley and Granger did hadn’t worked either, he’d saved people’s lives, but still been thrown away out of ... he guessed jealousy. He concluded that the why didn’t matter. What mattered was that they’d turned on him and cast him out.

So, he was going to have to find his own way, and take care of himself, although he had to be cautious as he was currently surrounded by humans and locked into a human contract.

There was a knock on his door. He stood and opened it, to see Dumbledore and Snape. He shrugged, and shut the door again.

The door was forcibly opened. “Harry,” Dumbledore started.

“It was Mr Potter earlier,” Harry pointed out.

“Harry,” Dumbledore said again. “Care to explain what happened earlier?”

“I told Snape to “fuck off, bitch,” because I really wanted him to stop being a bitch and for him to go away. I wasn’t going to waste anymore words on him.”

“See,” Snape growled. “Arrogant, just like his father.”

“Ugly, just like his mother,” Harry retorted.

Snape growled and raised his wand. Harry raised his own only to have Dumbledore slap the wand away from him.

“See, just like a bitch,” Harry said cheerfully. “He can insult me, but if someone turns it around, he goes for a curse.”

“Harry, you can be expelled...”

“Okay,” Harry said cheerfully. “Should I pack now?” He offered his wand to the Headmaster. “I believe you want to snap that, right?”

The Headmaster took his wand, and held it up.

“Go on,” Harry encouraged. “If I’m expelled, losing my magic won’t matter, and then I won’t have to compete.”

Dumbledore sighed and put the wand down on his table. “This is the wrong way to go about things, Harry.”

Harry shrugged. “I am happier with things the way they are now, but don’t worry, I won’t be going anywhere near Snape, so we shouldn’t have any more problems. Good evening.” He walked forwards crowding both men out of his room, and then shut the door.

That had been fun.

Acting like a freak and not like a human had got him out of Potions, and had probably ruined Gryffindor’s chances of the House Cup. Far more success than he had seen before.

The next day was the same, only with new books from the library and more glares from the Gryffindors. Instead of History of Magic, he practised shield spells in his room. It never hurt to be prepared, and he knew that the traitor Weasley had a short fuse, and that sooner or later the curses would come.

Just before he was going to go to bed there was a scratch at his door, and he opened it. Hedwig flapped in, and took a stand at the foot of his bed. She barked and looked around, before she nodded, and settled down for nap.

“Oh, no,” Harry said firmly. “You are locked up with me during the summer. You shouldn’t be here now, as well.”

Hedwig barked stubbornly. Harry sat near her, and gently stroked her head. “Hed,” he said softly, “I’m scared what would happen if people saw you flying in Hogwarts.”

Hedwig puffed out her chest and barked derisively.

Harry laughed softly, “Yeah, you are great,” he agreed. “But, what I need is to know that you are safe, and free, and you know that I will be dreaming of you flying, waiting for the time when I can fly with you.”

Hedwig’s amber eyes stared at him, and she barked softly.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he agreed. “This is a human school, Hed, and humans suck.”

Hedwig’s bark of agreement was immediate.

“So, a lot of these books are to help me find a place to go where there are hardly any humans, you know?”

Hedwig nodded.

“I will come and see you when I can,” he promised, “and as soon as I have a plan, I’ll tell you it.”

Hedwig barked a few times, and then closed her eyes.

“Okay, in the morning, then.”

The next few days flew by quickly, and without Potions and History of Magic, he had a lot more time to study things that interested him, which was basically magic. Runes, as effective as they looked, were not going to help him that much. Arithmancy was just weird, and he had yet to see why it mattered. The idea that spells could be broken down was ludicrous, and the book listed thousands of exceptions to rules that made no sense in the first place.

So he studied spells and the theory behind them, so that he could actually master them. He had only managed two spells so far, but that was two more than he had mastered before.

As he was walking to the library, a note appeared in front of him, calling for the first part of the Tri-Wizard tournament, a weighing of wands.

He sighed, as much as he didn’t want to participate, he also didn’t want to lose his magic if he wasn’t in control of the situation,

He headed into the room, to see Dumbledore, Ollivander, the other three champions, a photographer and what he presumed was a journalist, if only by the way she held a pad and a quill. “Finally,” the woman said.

Harry bit his tongue to stop himself from swearing at her.

“Well,” Dumbledore said, “Let us begin.”

“Where are the scales?” Harry asked.

“It’s not a literal weighing,” Dumbledore replied, “it’s more Ollivander checking that your wand is working.”

“Oh,” Harry said, and handed his over immediately.

Ollivander sighed, and looked at it. “Ho...”

“Does it work?” Harry interrupted.

Ollivander looked at him, and he waved it. A spray of dark red liquid came out the end.

Harry reached over and took it back. He nodded at the older wizard and walked out. He headed back to his original destination. He actually liked the library now, if only because the librarian hated everyone equally, and no one dared to do anything to him when he was there.

The days blurred together as the first task approached. The weekends just meant a bit more time to read up. He was now up to his third year in his studies, but had yet to look at anything that might help. Because he really didn’t care about the tournament, he was determined to understand the fundamentals before learning more advanced spells.

Only humans jumped forward without understanding.

On the day of the first task, he made his way into the tent, and soon found out that they were rescuing an egg from a dragon. “Ahh,” he said, as he noticed the expression on the faces of the others. “Hypocrites.”

“What?” Diggory asked.

“You lot were happy to castigate me for entering this competition, and yet you all cheated to find out what we had for the first task. That makes you hypocrites, or maybe just human.” He shrugged and headed to the corner. Both were just as bad, as far as he was concerned.

He had one idea, and that was it. If it didn’t work, he should at least have done enough not to receive any punishment from the cup.

He was the last one out, and he appeared to a few boos from the audience. He ignored them. At the signal to the start, he walked toward the angry dragon. “Can I have the fake gold egg, please? I have zero interest in your real eggs,” he asked, hissing the words in Parseltongue.

The dragon paused, and then looked at its nest. It looked a little embarrassed, before it picked up the fake egg in its jaws, and lobbed it to him. “Thank you,” he hissed.

The dragon nodded, and curled up around its eggs and went to sleep; which, Harry thought, entirely proved his point. The dragon was not human, and upon realising that a mistake had been made, she rectified it. The dragon was logical.

The crowed were now booing louder, and then his scores came out. A four from the half human, ones and twos from the others. He shrugged, that was typical. Now that he had the egg, he threw it at Dumbledore, and walked away.

It had been a pleasant day; a nice break from the library, but he had some transfiguration to catch up on, and that was more important.

“Potter!”

Harry sighed. The Weasley. He ignored him, and continued to walk. Ron ran up and got in his way. Harry walked around him. Ron moved, so Harry walked around the other way. Ron moved again. Harry could tell his actions were getting to Ron, so he kept them up. Every time Ron moved into his way, Harry would simply move to the side to walk around them.

Eventually, Ron lost his temper and swung his fist.

Harry moved to one side and kept on walking. Ron overbalanced and fell to the floor. Harry raised his shield behind him, and sure enough, a curse flashed into it seconds later.

“Mr Weasley!” Filius Flitwick shouted. “Detention!”

Another half-human doing something positive. Harry bet that if the charms professor was a full creature, he’d have pushed for Ron to be expelled, as he should have been. But what could you expect from someone that was tainted with humanity?

With breakfast the next morning, there was a paper. Which was full of lies. Harry spent some of the morning writing out letters to the Ministry, the Prophet, and the Goblins. He had no idea why bankers would be able to help, but at least he’d try them.

Over the next week, he got a letter back from the Goblins saying that they were bankers; and perhaps he might try a solicitor’s office, although the wizards’ world didn’t have any libel laws. It was a helpful message, and Harry appreciated that.

He heard nothing at all back from the others.

Typical.

A week after the challenge, there was a knock on his door. He opened it, to find the egg, with a message saying that he had to decode it.

Harry looked at it for a second, before he stuffed it in the foot of the cupboard and got on with his life.

After transfiguration the next day, he was informed, with the rest of the class, that there was to be a Yule Ball.

As far as he knew, there were no full creatures in Hogwarts, and he also knew with certainty that he did not want to go with a human. He was walking past as Weasley asked the part-Veela out. That made Harry pause. She was a part-Veela, which meant that there were full Veela. With a nod to himself, he made a note to study Veela; maybe they had any answers to his problems.

Delacour’s refusal was overly harsh, but then, she seemed to aspire to humanity, and what better way was there to achieve that than to be an utter bitch?

When it was time for the Yule Ball, Harry was on top of the Astronomy tower, practicing his warming charms, and spending the evening with the only creature he cared about. He had his broom, and it was good to be on it again, flying with Hedwig.

Hedwig was in a silly mood, and she danced for him, and then with him. Her flying was extraordinary, as she used the heat rising from the castle to launch herself high, and then dive down. After watching her for a while, he flew with her, playing tag first, and then follow the leader.

It was a great night. The best he had enjoyed for a very long time. He even had some chocolate he’d been saving for a special night that he shared with a grateful Hedwig. Honestly, it was the best ball he could imagine. He had a gorgeous partner and some great dances with someone he utterly adored.

He hadn’t received a single present for Christmas. And he wasn’t surprised. He’d been upset earlier in the day that he’d heard nothing from Sirius. But what had he expected from a human? Now that his desperation to escape the Dursleys had changed into determination to remove himself from the human world, he wasn’t as depressed as he might once have been.

Humans had taught him again and again that they sucked.

“Go on,” he encouraged. “Just be safe, okay?”

Hedwig hopped over to him and nuzzled his face, before she launched herself into the sky, and then spiralled into the distance.

Harry donned his invisibility cloak, and then added some of the third year spells he’d learnt. One muffled all the sound around him, rendering him silent. The next, matched his temperature to the ambient temperature. The final one removed all scent.

He walked down and saw Dumbledore up ahead, near one of the corridors leading to his room. He walked up to the old man, wondering about his charms’ effectiveness. Dumbledore didn’t give any sign that he had noticed Harry.

On a whim, Harry hung around, and waited. Less than five minutes later, McGonagall hurried up to Dumbledore.

“Have you seen Harry?”

“Not at all, I’m afraid. He’s in the school.”

“He should have been at the Ball!”

“He should have,” Albus agreed. “I will wait here until he returns. I have the elves looking for him as well. None of them will help him.”

“Good.”

Harry rolled his eyes and made his way to his room. A clever wizard would have guarded his door, not the corridor. He shrugged, and then headed to bed.

And he dreamt of his beautiful owl dancing in the moonlight.

Life returned to normal for the next few weeks. He studied, he went to some of the classes, he ignored the humans as much as he could, and shielded when he couldn’t.

He was proud that despite his opposition to jumping ahead in his self-enforced re-learning of the basics, he had pushed forward with shielding spells, and could now block most spells, certainly the ones that anyone at school could cast.

His contempt for everyone else in the school had grown. As he had not responded as they had demanded, their hatred of him was at an all time high. If he kowtowed to them, if he showed any bit of remorse, most of them would have been happy to forget about him.

But he refused; he used his anger to give him the strength to ignore all of them. He wasn’t going to play by their rules.

The morning of the day before the second task, he received an anonymous note that the second task involved being underwater for long periods of time.

Gillyweed was an answer. That was found in the second year Herbology book recommended as supplementary reading. He’d not read it in the second year.

It was child’s play to sneak into Snape’s storeroom and steal some. While he was there, he changed the labels on some of the other ingredients. He wasn’t taking Potions, so it wouldn’t affect him. Small acts of revenge kept him warm at night.

He walked out to the task. “So, everyone decode their egg?” Ludo Bagman asked, his manner was cheerful, irritatingly so.

“Nope,” Harry replied, mimicking the cheerfulness.

“Oh,” Bagman said. “Well, never mind. As you know, something important to you has been taken by the merpeople, and is under the water, waiting for you to rescue, and you have an hour to do so.”

Harry frowned; the only thing they could have taken that he cared about was Hedwig! “You are a fucking bastard,” Harry said flatly. “An unmitigated fuck-whit, and when you’re wearing your ill fitting uniform, you look like a fat paedophile.” Without waiting for comment, he walked briskly to the edge of the pier. He cast tempus first, then pushed a wad of Gillyweed into his mouth, and then jumped into the water, swimming to the centre of the lake.

He suspected that he was causing chaos in his wake, but he wasn’t going to wait for some human who had put his owl in danger. As far as he was concerned, humanity was the worst monster in existence.

He swam down, following the shape of the lake to the deepest part. Logically, that would be where the merpeople would be. The first year book on creatures said that they preferred the pressure of deep water.

He soon found their village, and there floating above it, tied down with ropes, were four people. None of them were Hedwig.

Harry stopped. He was confused and relieved. Hermione was there, as was Cho Chang, a small blond girl, and Ron Weasley.

Who was he supposed to rescue? Chang? He’d had a bit of a crush on her, but she was human. All of them were human. He didn’t care for any humans, and certainly didn’t think of any one of them as being important.

He sighed. As he was here, he figured he’d wait, just to see who the others took, so he knew who he was supposed to rescue.

He swam over to the merpeople, and waved at them. One of them shrugged, and offered him something. The merman mimed eating it. Harry did so; it was a bit like something he’d had on a pizza once. Dudley had bitched about it for hours, so Harry had been forced to eat it. It wasn’t exactly a hardship.

He gave the merman a thumbs-up, and munched another as it was offered. He pointed to the four and shrugged exaggeratedly.

The mermen and woman looked surprised. One of the mermaids swam over to him, and offered him a steaming red goblet. Ignoring the part of his brain that knew some basic physics, he took it and drank some, before offering it to her back. He looked at the mermaid, she had long dark red hair that floated around her head, and a red top that hid her boobs, if not their rather attractive shape.

Her eyes were further apart than a human’s, and her teeth looked sharp as she grinned at him. Her face was shaped differently, but, all in all, he found her pretty damn cute.

His entire body flooded with warmth as the effect of the potion kicked in.

He grinned and then leaned forward and kissed the mermaid on the cheek.

The maid, who, if he was going by human standards, was around his age, blushed and flicked her long tail away to her friends, where she shot him little looks.

The merman who had given him the snack laughed and punched him lightly on the shoulder. Harry gave him another thumbs-up, and then mimed his heart beating fast.

Some of the other merpeople started to laugh as well, which caused bubbles to float out of their mouths in a fascinating display.

A half transfigured shark headed toward the centre, snapping and snarling. Harry was pretty sure it was Krum. It headed toward some of the mermaids. Harry instantly snapped off a spell that smacked straight into the shark’s nose. The part-shark shook itself, and then headed back to the statue, where it bit the rope that held Hermione, and headed away with her.

Harry was surprised at that. He had no idea that they even knew each other – but then, why would he? He cast tempus again, and took some more gillyweed as it was getting close to an hour. The group of mermaids – what was the collective noun for a group of mermaids he wondered, a sexy? – swam over to him, and the one he had kissed before mimed a thank you.

Harry bowed, as well as he could in water, and smiled at her. He was quite comfortable here in the depths with these non-humans.

The girl looked at him shyly before she swam a little closer. Hoping that he was reading it right, Harry slid forward and kissed her on the lips. Her brown eyes widened, and she kissed him back for a few seconds, her webbed hands stroked his back, before she giggled, and retreated to her friends.

Harry clutched his heart dramatically, and floated around so that was on his back. He could see the merpeople laughing hard. He’d had his first kiss, and it had been better than anything he could have imagined with a human.

Diggory appeared and took Chang, which left Weasley and the girl, who he presumed was related to Delacour.

He pouted and headed toward the two slowly. He pointed to one of the mermen’s tridents, and then at Weasley, and put a pleading look on his face. The merman shook his head. Harry pouted, and cast a light cutting spell to free the young girl. He smirked at the merpeople, and bowed, before he carried the child away.

He could see the amusement on their faces.

As he broke the surface, the girl started to move, so Harry stunned her, just to be safe. He swam with her, and then dumped her on the nearest person he found, before he cast a third year drying charm on himself before he headed back to the school.

“Harry,” Dumbledore’s voice rang out. “You rescued the wrong hostage. Gabrielle was Fleur’s hostage.”

Harry half-turned. “There was no hostage for me down there,” he said blankly, and headed back. From behind him, he heard Delacour cry out that her sister was safe.

Back in his room, he had a long shower, before he settled down to read his book on creatures. And the more he read, the more he felt his eyes open. It was as close to perfect as he could imagine. He picked up another book, on magical bonds, and read that.

His act of charity looked like it was going to pay off, big time. If, and it was a big if, he could go through with it. His good mood from the merpeople vanished, as the cold hard light of what he would have to do became clear.

If he did this, it would cut him off from humanity forever. He would have to act like the most despicable human to attain it. He would have to lose any of his remaining morals.

He took a deep breath and let his anger flow.

So, fine, those morals were gone. All that mattered now was leaving the humans.

He didn’t worry about the cost to his soul. Creatures didn’t have souls and he was pretty sure that freaks didn’t either.

He quickly wrote down a plan. He’d need to do some reconnaissance this evening, and hopefully put his plan into action tomorrow.

He grabbed his cloak, applied his spells, and headed down to where the French were staying. He stood still and waited, until he had seen everything he needed. He then headed to the Owlery, and explained everything to Hedwig, including her part.

Hedwig puffed up her chest and barked her acceptance.

With that done, he headed back to his room, and packed everything he had; leaving out only the clothes he would wear tomorrow.

He felt no guilt from stealing some of his favourite books from the library. He wasn’t going to be getting a refund in tuition, so the books were in lieu of that.

Sleep didn’t come easily, but he eventually drifted off. The next day was torture, as he was determined to act as normal as he had been. At least he didn’t have to speak to anyone, so no one would be able to tell he was uneasy from his voice.

He headed back to his room, and realised that he was going to miss it. It had been one of the nicest places he’d ever stayed. He double checked that he had everything before he shrunk his possessions and placed them in his pocket.

He had one more look, to see if there was anything at all that he wanted, before he nodded and picked up the book on bonds, and pocketed that as well. The last thing he picked up was the letter on his small desk. He took a deep breath and put on his invisibility cloak, and then headed out.

His first stop was the Owlery, where Hedwig was waiting for him. She hopped eagerly on her perch the second he removed the hood of his cloak, sticking her leg out. He attached his letter. “Good luck,” he said softly. “Wait for my signal.”

Hedwig bobbed her agreement, and took off eagerly. She spiralled high, and he watched her, before she faded into the night, but he knew she was there, watching.

With his hood back up, he headed outside, and as he did, he allowed his anger to burn. He’d held it in for so long that it felt good. One way or another, he would be free by tomorrow. Because if his plan didn’t work, he was going to have to fight for his freedom. He didn’t think he’d win, but he’d take as many with him as he could.

No more would he allow himself to be chained up like he had been these last few months. As fun as they were, he had been essentially a prisoner, for a crime he had not committed.

He used his anger to fuel his determination and his will.

He headed over to the carriage. The carriage had numerous doors. His reconnaissance yesterday had showed him which one he needed.

He took a deep breath, and knocked on the door with a sharp staccato beat. He removed his cloak, and placed it in his pocket. He’d copied the knock from the Beauxbatons’ Headmistress.

The door opened, and Harry stunned Fleur Delacour with a Stupefy as she answered. He stepped inside, shut the door firmly behind him and cast a truth charm on her, before waking her up. “Is this true?” he demanded, shoving the book on bonds in her face. They were in a small entrance hall, with doors leading to either side. The decoration was classical French, with a grandfather clock against the far wall, the lights, if there were any, weren’t on, leaving it quite dark.

Her face paled, and with a great reluctance, she said, “Oui.”

“Then I, Harry James Potter, cla…”

“Wait,” she hissed, keeping her voice down.

He looked at her. “I am owed a debt, I will collect it.”

“You will enslave an eight year old?” she demanded. “What sort of monster are you?”

“Freak,” he corrected. “Not a monster, just a freak.”

The answer seemed to throw her. “What sort of freak are you?”

He gave her a smile with no humour in it. “The one I was born to be and the one I was moulded into,” he replied.

“Claiming ‘er, means you will ‘ave to sleep with ‘er. You will have to fuck ‘er. She is eight, a child.”

Those words would have affected him before all of this, but not now. But it was time to play his second card. “That’s a price I’m willing to pay.”

“What?”

“A price I’m willing to pay,” he repeated.

“For what?”

“Veela following the old traditions are automatically accepted into the Veela Enclave of their continent of birth.”

She looked absolutely horrified as his words sank in. “You’d rape my sister, and zen take ‘er away for life?”

“It is not rape,” he replied, “It is payment for a debt. Surely that’s better than death?”

She shook herself. “But once in, you can nevair leave,” she said, changing her angle of attack like he suspected she would.

“Yes, I’d forever be locked up in a city of marble, only able to leave with permission from the high council, my magic forever sworn to the defence of the city with my life. I’d never be able to see the rest of the world, see anybody I cared about, or even communicate with them. The magic the oath requires is very clear.” The words were not for his benefit, but for hers. The Enclave was his goal.

“She will ‘ate you.”

“Does it matter?” he asked. “She’s pretty enough for what I’ll be doing.”

Fleur reeled back, as if struck. Suddenly she smiled. It was a soft smile, a gentle one. “Come, ‘Arry, you ‘ave not thought this through,” she whispered. Her arms went back, as she emphasised her chest from her position on the floor. Her face glowed softly in the darkness of the hallway, the only real light reflecting from the cracks in the doorways out of the hallway. He wanted to listen to her more, agree with what she said. He raised his wand and stunned her again. The feeling vanished. When he woke her, she scowled.

“I saved her life, it’s now mine to do with as I see fit,” he continued their earlier conversation, allowing a small hint of cheerfulness to creep into his words. “I’m sure she’ll get used to it eventually,” he added with an uncaring shrug.

Fleur went for her wand, but his was already in his hand, held loosely, and then he was holding two wands. “Would you like to be awake for her screams?” he asked politely. “Because I can stun you again, so you won’t have to hear them.”

Her look was full of hate, and her hands started to glow. He took a step forward and kicked her in the stomach, stopping the transformation into her avian form in its tracks. How she could think that he wouldn’t have found out everything he could about Veela beforehand? He guessed she had listened to the rumours about him and believed them.

But then, the rumours also said he was evil, dark, and that helped too. He couldn’t blame her for listening to them; he’d seen how she’d wanted to give up her best side, to be more human.

“I, Harry James Potter, hereby cla…”

“Wait,” Fleur begged.

He paused and looked at her.

“You will take me, instead.”

“You’re a bitch,” he said simply. “I have no interest in you.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she reeled back again.

“Please,” she said. She moved to her knees, the arrogance and superiority he had seen earlier was gone. Now she was just a girl, desperate to protect her younger sister. Once, he would have moved the earth for her – for anyone in her position, but now he wouldn’t exhale in her favour. “Please,” she begged once more. “Do not force my seester into slavery, do not take away ‘er freedom. Take me instead, I am ze bitch, I deserve it, she does not. Please!”

She shifted on to her knees and started to undo the buttons of her blue blouse, revealing the lace of her white bra, when he stopped her. He shrugged. “You will swear the oath I was going to make Gabrielle swear, once she was under my control?”

“I will,” she said, her hands pausing, as she looked at him with something like hope. He thought she was a pretty good actress, but not great, because he could see the passion in her eyes, the absolute hatred of what he was doing.

He pulled out a piece of paper and floated it over to her. He wasn’t getting near her, not yet. She looked at him, and her act failed. The paper had Gabrielle’s name on it. She looked at him with utter loathing and contempt.

He rolled his eyes, and summoned it back. The clock struck eleven. The space between each chime seemed eternal.

With a hateful look, she started to speak. “I, Fleur Isabelle Delacour, do ‘ereby pledge my eternal servitude to ‘arry James Potter, for as long as ‘e so desires. I vow, under penalty of death, zat my words are true.” She paused, having read the full sentence printed on the paper, before she glared and added her own. “I do zis of my own free will, in payment for zee life debt incurred by my seester at ze Second Task.”

“I accept,” Harry said, and he could immediately feel Fleur’s magic bond to his, her Veela nature ensuring she followed through on her magical promise.

“Now what?” she asked, with another hate filled look. “Master?” The last word was said with such contempt that it was almost visible.

“Now, you will contact the Enclave, and arrange for us to leave tomorrow.”

“But ze third task, we are bound to compete,” she pointed out.

“You will explain that as well. You will write to the best of your ability, explain everything honestly, and cite the relevant laws pertaining to our access.” He placed the second of his books down, with the bookmark in place. “This is a command,” he added, for emphasis. “If you do not do so, I will consider your vow broken; the price refunded, and I will then claim your sister.”

She looked like she wanted to jump him and claw his eyes out, but her vow kept her from doing so.

“Be happy, little Veela,” he hissed, “I could take you now, but I will give you the rest of the night and the morning to say your goodbyes. Freaks are not completely without mercy.”

He backed away slowly, once out of the door, he threw her wand back to her. As she grabbed for it, he closed the door and pulled on his cloak. He refreshed his charms, and stood still.

Fleur opened the door, and scowled as she saw no sign of him, her wand in his hand. He watched her face, as anger gave way to despair, and she started to shake. He hoped it was the effect of her not following a command.

As she shut the door, he placed his hand out of the cloak and waved it. There was a soft bark from the distance that made him smile. He headed out, not back to the school, but into the Forbidden forest. He was too nervous to sleep, so he just walked. And as he did, he passed Acromantulas; he passed centaurs, and loads of other creatures that would hopefully soon be his brethren.

It was glorious.

As dawn broke, he headed back to the French camp, and watched patiently. At nine thirty, Fleur and Olympe Maxime met with an older couple who arrived from the gates of Hogwarts. The man looked ready to spit fire, while the woman was crying and hugging her daughter.

Fleur had a family, a family that had never had his life. Maybe that was why she wanted to betray the good thing about her and be fully human.

Gabrielle appeared, dressed in jeans, trainers and a coat. She clung to her sister, crying and begging.

It was a heart-breaking scene. Or it would be if Harry had a heart to break.

Other students appeared, and he listened as they were told the truth, it was exaggerated, but all the salient facts where there.

The students looked angry and dispersed. Half an hour later, the small group of five headed into Hogwarts. He followed them, finding chaos inside. It seemed like most, if not all, of the student corpus were there, and from the noise, they were all looking for him. The names they called him as they reported failure were amazing. He hadn’t known that so many of them had such an extensive vocabulary of maledicta.

He cursed to himself, as the crowd closed after the group of five. He spotted Hermione, who looked incensed, he guessed, at the idea of slavery. She arranged the students so he couldn’t get through. It seemed the students wanted to persuade him to release Fleur.

And as expected, the authority figures were doing nothing at all. He spotted Malfoy and Weasley talking to that reporter, and shook his head. He vaguely remembered a quote about politics making strange bed fellows. Clearly hate worked too.

Instead of risking it, he went outside and waited.

Two hours later, a large wooden gate appeared outside the wards of Hogwarts, it opened to reveal a swirling blue vortex. Two Veela appeared, and then two more, until a column of Veela guards marched forwards. They were two wide, and twenty deep, and moved in absolutely perfect unison. They were all in the same uniform, a blue body suit under what looked like golden armour. The boots included knee protectors, with an almost shovel like end. Harry shuddered at the thought of the damage a simple knee strike could do. The rest of their legs were protected by ringlets of the same material. Harry could just make out a faint inlay of a haze of runes on them – presumably to give them strength and protection. The golden cuirass they wore on their chests were sculpted to be feminine, and generously so, and their helmets appeared to have their own hair coming out of the top.

In their left hands they each had a rectangular shield. Their faces were as beautiful as the Veela he’d seen at the world cup, but each had a fierce and unyielding expression.

He moved in front of them, aware of students exiting Hogwarts behind him, and removed his cloak as they were ten foot away. They continued to march, stopping two foot from him. “You are the one who has enslaved a part-Veela?” the lead Veela demanded. Up close, he could see that her armour was more ornate, and that she had an emblem embossed on her right shoulder. Her eyes were a strange pale powder blue colour.

“I am.”

“Why are you not inside?”

“Many humans disagree with my actions.”

“Understandably,” the Veela murmured. “As the law dictates, so we will follow.” She took a deep breath, and looked at him directly.

It felt like someone had taken a pickaxe to his skull; she was the most perfect creature he had ever seen; she was fabulous, amazing, and so utterly inhuman. All the pressure was on him to do what she wanted, and he would do anything for her.

“You want to stop all this, don’t you?” she asked, with a foreign accent he couldn’t place; it almost sounded like she had sung the question, and his mind flickered to TV performances of girls singing solo in front of large choirs in churches.

“Just say the word,” she continued, “and we’ll forget all about it, no harm done.”

“No,” he blurted, and metaphorically forced the pickaxe out of his head. He panted from effort, and glared at the Veela. Grudging respect flashed in her eyes for a second.

“Move,” she ordered her companions. They moved, and he found himself surrounded by them, almost swallowed up. This close, they gave off an air of otherness, of not being human, and the first time in months, he allowed himself a tiny bit of hope.

They marched into Hogwarts, and everything and everyone went silent. “There he is,” one of students shouted, raising his wand. The boy, Anthony Goldstein, was stunned before he could go any further.

“Acts of aggression will not be tolerated,” the lead Veela intoned, the lyrical accent gone, replaced only with a dull monotone. “Any further attempts of aggression at Enclave soldiers will be met with deadly force.”

The gathered students swayed backwards at the monotone delivery, and the certainty of the words.

“We just want a chat with Potter,” the youngest male Weasley cried.

“This is an Enclave mission,” The Veela replied evenly. “We do not have the time or the desire for your input, human.”

That last word resonated with Harry, more than anything. It was the biggest insult he could dream of, aimed directly at his former friend – even if the boy didn’t recognise it as such.

They were left to march up to Dumbledore’s office. Looking over his shoulder, he could see the trailing Veela take guard positions on the stairs.

They entered Dumbledore’s office. McGonagall and Snape were to the left of Dumbledore’s desk, the man himself seated behind his desk. To the right, where Fawkes’ perch was usually, the Delacour family stood in front of the half-giant headmistress.

“I am Colonel Sophia Adler, charged by the European Enclave to accept Harry James Potter and Fleur Isabelle Delacour into said Enclave,” she said in the same monotone she’d used so far.

“I’m afraid,” Dumbledore replied, “That will not be possible.”

“Magical Britain is breaking its treaties with the International Confederation of Wizards and European Law,” Sophia said. “I will let the Enclave Council know.” She turned on her heel, and made to march away.

“No,” Dumbledore yelped. Harry kept his face emotionless. Clearly, Dumbledore hadn’t expected Sophia to immediately simply accept his words for what they were – an attempt to subvert a treaty.

She paused, and turned. “What did you mean then?”

“The champions need to fulfil the third task.” Harry could see the frustration on Dumbledore’s face. He knew Dumbledore liked to talk, but he could see that Sophia didn’t, and he himself had hidden away until this moment, to avoid anything the headmaster might say to him.

“We are aware of this,” Sophia returned. “Special permission has already been granted for that day.”

He could feel Snape stare at him, but Harry avoided meeting his eyes. Harry knew he had no skill in the mind arts. He knew some sort of mind reading existed, and that eye contact made it easier, so he took the simple way out.

Before anyone else could say anything, Sophia continued, still in her monotone voice. “Under the law of the International Confederation of Wizards, a Veela, regardless of purity may apply to join the Enclave. A class two bond is the minimum required. A slavery bond formed in payment is still a class two bond. As such, the application has been granted.”

Fleur started to cry, sobbing silently, while Gabrielle looked at Harry and spat what was probably a vile imprecation. Harry didn’t speak French, a fact he was pleased with for once.

There were looks of futile fury on the faces of Fleur’s parents; and a matching one on the face of Olympe Maxime. He could see the disappointment on the faces of Dumbledore, McGonagall, and the contempt and anger on Snape’s face.

“I told you he was just like his father,” Snape sneered.

Harry ignored him. As much as he wanted to insult Snape’s mother again, this was not the time.

Sophia turned. “Harry James Potter, do you swear your life to the Enclave, do you swear your magic to her defence, to uphold her laws. Do you acknowledge that the magic that protects you also binds you? Do you swear to follow the Council’s guidance? Do you abandon your English heritage, your citizenship, and all claims to this country? Do you pledge any and all of your wealth to the Enclave?”

He smiled. He held out his right hand, his wand in it. “On my magic, I so swear.”

He closed his eyes as he felt a new bond form, not a weak one, influenced by humanity, like with Fleur, but a pure one, with a city that would be his home for the rest of his life.

Sophia turned. “Fleur Isabelle Delacour.”

Harry moved slightly, and put his hand on Sophia’s shoulder. She didn’t jump, but she did turn to him. “Oh, yes, a class two bond,” she spat softly, her eyes hard. “Go ahead, order her participation.”

He saw the traces of hope vanish from the eyes of the beautiful family of four facing him. He allowed his hand to drop from Sophia’s shoulder. “Fleur Isabelle Delacour,” he said his voice emotionless. “I release you from your vow, and I accept your actions as full payment for the debt of your sister’s life.”

His words hung in the air, as if they had been transfigured into stone.

“Well played, Harry James Potter. Extremely well played.” Sophia was the first to respond, the lyrical tone back in her voice, she swivelled to look at him, and her eyes turned warm. She reached out and put her hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Our business here is concluded.” The tone was dropped once more.

“Wait,” Dumbledore called desperately.

“What?”

“Harry, he stays, now?”

“Harry is a member of the Enclave,” Sophia replied dismissively.

“But he has no bond.”

“He does not need one, for he is a member.”

“But, why?” Fleur demanded.

Harry looked at her, over his shoulder. “It was never about you,” he said, “or your sister. You are a b--, you are unpleasant, and she is eight. I would not want to spend time with you, nor force a child to do anything.” He moderated his language only because a child was present.

Fleur again rocked backwards, as if he had slapped her. He wondered if anyone had ever said these things to her before – because her reactions suggested she was unused to anyone talking back to her.

The mother met his eyes, and she smiled and nodded. “Thank you, and good luck.”

He nodded at her. She wasn’t fully human, more so than her daughter. So he respected her more for that.

He didn’t look at anyone else, he simply turned, and followed the two guards who were behind him and were now in front of him.

There was a rustle, and a spell cast. He looked, to see the guard to the left of Sophia had blocked the attack aimed at him with her shield, allowing Sophia to wield her sword against the attacker. She moved with incredible speed, sliding past the guards in the way. Snape staggered back, and then his head fell to the floor, followed shortly by the rest of the now headless body. Sophia wiped her sword and returned it to its sheath.

“Attacking a member of the Enclave is against the treaty with the International Confederation of Wizards,” she said evenly. “Punishment has been dispensed.”

Harry shot a look at Dumbledore, who was now looking at Snape in horror, and turned away. Once again, they moved, down the stairs, the other Veela falling in with them. A command, in a language Harry didn’t understand, had them move, so that as they cleared a space at the bottom of the stairs, they took a formation four abreast, with him in the centre. Sophia said a few more words in the same lyrical language, and the body language of the Veela around him changed. It was inclusive, not exclusive.

In absolute silence, they marched out, and Harry was aware that he still had a smile on his face. The murmurs started, as no one could see Fleur, and he could see the confusion on some of their faces, but he didn’t care.

They stepped out of Hogwarts, and his smile grew. They continued to march down toward the magical gate.

Up ahead, he could see some Aurors, five or six, accompanying the Minister for Magic. They stopped, directly in the way, the Minister’s chest swelling as he prepared himself. The Veela didn’t pause, they didn’t slow down; they just kept marching. At the last second, Fudge squeaked and threw himself to the ground, rolling out of the way. The Aurors followed him.

Harry felt his smile grow even bigger. His guards hadn’t acted like humans.

The first of the guards entered the gate and vanished. He felt a hand take his, and he looked at the grinning face of Sophia, and held on to her. They entered, and it felt like he was thrown through space and time, tumbling each way, before with a suddenness that almost made him sick, they arrived in a small clearing in a forest.

The Veela, almost as one, removed their helms. They were still inhumanly perfect, and he loved it. None of them suffered from helmet hair, their bright blonde reflected the sun, causing them to glow.

Each of them removed their cuirasses, and as they shook themselves, genuine, amazing, awesome white wings appeared on their backs, with many sighs of relief. He looked at Sophia, to see that her powder blue eyes were now a bright yellow. He was looking at a woman who had hair that was more silver than blonde, eyes that were yellow, and had genuine wings. He was looking at a woman who had an absolutely perfect face. He was looking at a woman who quite definitively was not human.

“Come on, Harry,” Sophia said brightly. “Let’s go see your new home!”

Harry felt his smile grow even bigger.

“You are the first person to enter as a single male, ever,” she continued, “and we’re all really impressed now that we understand what you’ve done.”

“Thanks,” he said shyly.

“I’ve got a niece you’ll love to meet,” Sophia added.

“Oi, don’t poach Green Eyes,” another one called, “I’ve got a younger sister!”

Harry allowed himself a giggle, as quite a few of the guards started to bicker and squabble. They guided him up a path, and he had his first sight of the humongous gates of the Veela enclave. It made the security he’d seen at Gringotts look provincial and immature. But then, it was designed to protect a race of physically perfect females. The gate protected something far more important than mere gold.

The gates were made of stone, with wooden lattices. Above the gates two marble guard towers stood, each lined with guards, all with weapons. And while only some of the weapons looked up to the task, having seen Sophia deal with Snape, he wasn’t counting anything out.

“Halt,” a guard called in a magically enhanced voice. Harry was surprised they were talking English.

“Colonel Sophia Adler, returning from Enclave Mission eight-zero-zero-five-three at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

“Colonel Adler, your mission appears incomplete,” the guard called down.

“Target A swore the oath, then released target B.”

There was a hush from the top of the gate and then a muttered “damn.” Then the guard, in a much warmer voice, called, “Welcome home, Colonel Adler. Welcome home, Harry James Potter.”

Harry felt a tear run down his cheek, as he offered the most honoured bow of his life.

“The English was for you,” Sophia whispered, as the huge gates slowly opened. They were completely silent, and Harry was able to see that they were at least six foot thick.

Next to him, opposite Sophia, another of the guards was humming. He looked at her, “Hotel California?” he asked.

“You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.”

“Who wants to leave home?” Harry asked her.

The guard reached out and hugged him, to his surprise. As his arms went around her, he found he was touching her wings. He couldn’t help himself, and stroked them. The guard giggled, and pulled away. He didn’t try and stop her.

As he stepped through the gate, he stumbled. The bond he’d thought was strong before increased in intensity a thousand percent, more, maybe. It felt like everything he had was now bonded with the city, and with the walls. He knew with certainty if they were attacked, he would defend with everything he had. It was his home, it was bright, and it was everything he wanted.

Pain erupted in his forehead; he fell to his knees, vomiting. It felt like something was fighting him, but after dealing with Sophia’s attack earlier, it was easy to force it away. He wasn’t going to fail, not this close to freedom. He felt the skin over his scar split, and as he looked up, he saw a thick black mist pour out of it. The pain vanished. The bond seemed to hum in a satisfied manner. It didn’t accept anything else having a hold on him.

“Harry?” Sophia called his name; when he managed to focus on her, she was on her knees next to him, holding him tightly.

“The bond, it didn’t like my scar,” he gasped. “But it’s gone, isn’t it! My scar?”

“It is,” she agreed.

He smiled at her, “That’s brilliant! And the bond, it’s so amazing, so powerful!”

She smiled back, and took his arm, helping him up. He was hit with a couple of spells, and his mouth felt clean and the splattering from his vomit was removed from his clothes. He looked down, to see no signs at all of what had just happened. “Thanks,” he said once more to the guards.

Sophie started to tug gently on his arm, guiding him down the path. “When I swore the oath as an adult, I felt exactly the same way. It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

“It’s the most non-human thing I’ve ever felt, and I love it,” he replied.

Through the gates, and inside the enclave, he saw that the interior was in a humongous bowl, so he had a great view of as much as he could see. It wasn’t just a city, he could see farms in the distance, some growing crops, others herding cattle. He could not see the wall on the far side. His eyes swung over to the right of centre, he smiled in delight. He could see a beach and the ocean. He’d never seen the ocean before!

The city itself gleamed in the sunlight, and for a second, he thought it was made of gold. “Eldorado,” he whispered.

His eyes cleared, and he realised it was just the reflection of the sun on the marble.

“Not quite,” Sophia said with a soft laugh.

There was something off about the city, maybe in the angles of the corners, or the height of the buildings. He almost bounced in happiness, it wasn’t human! It was almost freakish! It was amazing.

Harry removed his robes, as he realised just how hot it was here. He presumed they were in the Mediterranean somewhere, but he found he really didn’t care where. He didn’t need to know where it was to help defend it.

And defend it he would, he would study, push himself, train his magic like never before, because this … this Enclave, this place that was home, it deserved everything he could offer, and so much more.

He focused down on the city, trying to make out the population, and found that the people tended to be wearing white linen, in simple fashion, with sandals. But only a few actually had wings on show.

“We do dress up for balls,” Sophia said, “but for every day, it’s too hot to dress in anything other than cool linen.”

Harry took his trunk, broom, and other possessions out of the pockets of his Hogwarts robes, before he threw the robes in the air. “Incendio.” They burnt, quickly, and he grinned as he heard the chuckles of his guards. He went to jam his stuff in his pockets, when he was stopped by another of his guards. She held out a small bag for him, that he put everything in. “Thank you.”

The words she said in reply in what he hoped was their language, because it was identical to how Sophia had spoken earlier.

“Come on,” Sophia said, “we’ll go meet the council, and then we can show you your home.”

“My home?”

“Of course,” the guard who had hummed earlier said, “Where else are you going to live?”

“I’ve spent a lot of my life living in a cupboard, and then this year, a little, tiny room, frankly, I’d be happy with anything with a window.”

“Well, you’re just going to have to settle for a nice house,” Sophia said.

There was a bark, and Harry smiled, “Hedwig,” he called, lifting his hand. His owl swooped down, landed on his arm, and she immediately head butted him gently. “Do you like it here?”

She barked again, softly. “I’m so pleased,” he told her. She was looking at him, and he could feel her pride and happiness.

“No more Dursleys, no more Hogwarts, just endless fields of mice, and the occasional slice of bacon as a treat. And soon, we’ll go for a fly again and really explore.”

Hedwig barked her agreement, and hopped up his arm, to sit firmly on his shoulder. One of her wings wrapped around his head for a second, in an avian hug, before she settled down.

“I have never seen anything even close to that before,” the guard who had hummed earlier stated.

“Hed’s my greatest friend, by such a huge way,” Harry said enthusiastically. “She’s always been there, always been on my side, even when no one else was. She’s the best, and made the Yule Ball a really great night.”

Hedwig barked in agreement, and Harry laughed. He reached up and scratched her chest. Her feathers were always so soft, better to touch than even the Veela’s wings and he always liked that he could feel her heart beat, far faster than any human’s could beat.

“Come on, the council is waiting,” Sophia ordered gently.

“We’ll see you later, Harry,” one of the other guards called. Harry turned to them. “Thank you, so much,” he said, and bowed in respect. He felt Hedwig move, expanding her wings, as she did a little curtsey, thanking them as well.

There were various calls of them being welcome, before he was carefully tugged away. The road was made of a yellow stone that looked golden in the sunlight. And although it was a mile, he enjoyed the warmth and the clear air.

They arrived in front of the first building, a Roman style villa, complete with four columns in front. They entered into the cool interior and walked on top of an amazing mosaic floor. He paused, to look at it closely.

“You can examine it later,” Sophia promised.

He nodded and scurried after her.

They were allowed through a guarded doorway, one of the guards giving him a wink as he went through. Harry grinned back at her.

Inside, to his surprise, was a pretty modern room, with a long table stretching along the far wall. He could see computers with green displays on the monitors on desks around the edges of the room.

At the table sat eight people, seven of which were female. They were all older than Sophia, but he couldn’t take a guess to their real age. They were all inhumanly perfect, and he felt right at home – if a little self-conscious.

“Take a seat, you two,” they were told. He did, and sat with his hands on his lap, as he looked along the line, not afraid to meet their eyes. They were sat in the middle, looking directly across at two members of the council.

One of them rolled out a piece of paper. Harry glanced at it, and saw that it was the letter he had written to them yesterday. “I take it your plan worked?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied politely.

There were some soft chuckles.

“Wait,” Sophia interrupted, “Plan?”

“Sorry, Soph,” the other lady councillor in the middle, said, “but we wanted to do this by the book.”

“So Harry planned this all in advance?”

“Yes, we were pretty shocked when his owl breached our defences.”

“Hedwig’s awesome,” Harry interrupted, “she knew she held our future in her talons, and she wasn’t going to let either of us down.”

Hedwig barked her agreement.

“Quite,” the lady on the left continued. “So when we received the Delacour petition to join this morning, we decided to go along with Harry’s plan.”

“I nearly gutted him on sight,” Sophia pointed him out.

“But you didn’t, and we know you are professional enough to do the mission first, and take personal actions later.”

Harry smiled. “Of which I’m grateful. I did half expect to be gutted on sight.”

“And,” Sophia added, sounding a little guilty this time, “I might have hit him with a level zero Allure blast, not the level four required for joining.”

“A zero?” the only male councillor gasped, he was sitting at the far end. “And he passed?”

“He did.”

There was a round of awed silence. “Right, welcome to the Enclave, Mr Potter. Three thousand generations have built our little place, and the magic that protects us also binds us.”

Harry nodded. “It’s great.”

“I don’t know if you know, but you were quite a wealthy young man in your former world.”

Harry shook his head. He hadn’t known that. “I’m glad I won’t be a drain on the Enclave.”

More smiles were aimed at him. “You first jobs will be to improve your physical ability, and to learn our language.”

“I really appreciate the honour you have shown me by using my language,” he said.

“I’ve got a niece who would be perfect to help teach him,” Sophia added eagerly.

“We’ve all got nieces, daughters, cousins, Colonel,” the woman to the left said dryly. “No hogging the first independent male, ever.”

The female council member to the right in front of him spoke. “When our children reach majority, they are given the choice to swear the oath to become full citizens, to leave, and find a partner and return, or to leave and never come back. That is how we increase the population and ensure we suffer no ill effect from inbreeding.”

“The purebloods have that problem, they are rigid in their beliefs, so human,” he spat the last word, “so I’m delighted to hear that logic and practicality is treated sensibly here!”

“Welcome, indeed, Harry Potter, to the last home of your life.”

“People keep saying that like it’s a bad thing,” Harry pointed out.

There was another round of chuckles.

“Soph will show you to your house, we’ll have a timetable dropped off. When you can speak our language, we’ll introduce ourselves properly.”

Harry nodded, and swore to himself that he’d learn as fast as possible. Apart from Sophia, not one single person had introduced themselves, and it was with another little burst of pleasure that he realised that it wasn’t polite, well, polite as defined by humans. He couldn’t wait for real introductions, when he had earned that privilege.

They were dismissed, and soon back in the sunlight. They started to walk, down a street lined with detached buildings on each side, and the amount of people on the street increased as they walked.

The population appeared to be extremely female dominated, and so inhumanly perfect. Everything was clean and bright, and he could see people scrubbing walls and cleaning windows. They seemed to take great pride, a little like humans, but willing to put in the work themselves to keep it that way, unlike humans.

Sophia was greeted many times by name and small phrases, and she often replied in their musical language. It intensified his desire to learn it.

They moved through a bustling market place. He could see the indications of charms to keep meat cold, and vegetable fresh on the stalls. The produce looked brilliant, varied, and he started to imagine some of the meals he could cook for himself. After so many years cooking for others or not being allowed to cook at all, the prospect of cooking for himself was uplifting.

He realised he was hungry as his stomach growled. Sophia giggled, and approached a vendor. She handed over some money and received two sandwiches. It was a simple, crusty baguette filled with ham, and plenty of salad, cut in half. Without hesitation, he bit into it, and was delighted at the taste of the ham.

“Jamon Iberico,” Sophia said, “imported from Barcelona.”

“It’s incredible.”

She smiled, and they continue to walk, before they stopped. In front of them was a small townhouse, although small was only in relation to the earlier houses he’d seen. Sophia unlocked the door, and then gave him the key.

They entered a high ceilinged living room that was nice and cool after the warmth of outside. A fan spun lazily and silently on the ceiling, creating a cooling breeze and where there would normally be a fireplace was a water feature that filled the air with a gentle tinkling sound.

The furniture was minimal, just a couple of chairs in the large room, and several mis-matched bookshelves. The floor was polished marble with a rug in front of the chairs.

Sophia took him around a fully featured kitchen, and showed him that the fridge was stocked with food and drink. Up marble stairs were two large bedrooms, again with marble flooring. One bedroom was empty; the other just had a bed and a wooden wardrobe. To the right of the room, was a good sized bathroom, complete with roll top bath, a mirror on top of a marble counter, and a separate shower unit.

A shelf in the shower was stocked with products for him to clean himself, and white fluffy towels were piled on the counter.

To the left, back in the bedroom, was a large window looking out at the bustling street.

“This is brilliant,” he said, awed. “It’s for me?”

“Yes,” Sophia said with a sad little smile. “It’s empty though, you shouldn’t be so happy.”

“Why not?” he demanded. He pulled out Hedwig’s perch and placed it by his bed. Hedwig drifted over from his shoulder, and immediately closed her eyes and went to sleep. “It’s brilliant.”

“Because you’ve yet to choose the furniture you want, this is just temporary stuff.”

“Oh, this will do, honest; I don’t want to be a burden.”

“My niece, and probably a lot of people who are curious about someone who managed to get in on their own, will be around later to take you shopping. For now, I suggest you get clean, eat a bit more, and then sleep. You looked like you’ve not slept in days.”

Harry lurched forward and hugged her. “Thank you!” He tried, and succeeded, in not giving in to the urge to stroke her beautiful wings.

“You’re very welcome, Harry,” Sophia said, giving him a hug back, before she walked out, and left him alone.

Harry smiled. He looked around happily. He couldn’t wait to meet people; no one here had stared at his forehead, or referred to what he did as a child, and more, they seemed impressed by what he had done on his own, not something his parents had done, or with a skill that he’d inherited from his family.

He laughed as he looked around the bedroom.

It was his bedroom.

He was free.

He was home.