AN: Allow me to preface this chapter with the following: I. DO. NOT. LIKE. UNIVERSITY.

That said, I retract the inherent meaning behind that statement. I enjoy university in the sense that it gives me something to do and sufficiently challenges me that I occasionally complete my readings. I do not appreciate the time it takes out of my pleasure-time which especially includes fanfiction.

To spite the evils of university and the complete lack of fulfillment it has given me, I am embarking on a mission in the upcoming New Year to do something I am calling "365 Days of Reading - A book a day." Crazy? Possibly. Distraction from writing? Oh, definitely but not a complete deterrant. Impossible? Not in the slightest. Just rather difficult.

So, if anyone has any suggestions for books to read, please email or PM me. Sometime in the beginning of December I'll be posting a link in my profile to a livejournal that I'm going to use to document this. When I do, SPREAD THE WORD TO ALL YOUR FRIENDS AND ENEMIES. I'd rather not try and do this all by myself with the nearly complete lack of encouragement I'm getting from my own friends and family.

Now, about the FIC: this chapter is short. Why? Because I couldn't for the life of me figure out how to end it, thus the crappy section at the end. Seriously, just ignore it and you'll probably lose nothing from the overall fic. Really.

As always, reviews are appreciated, even if I never do get around to responding to them.

(I AM A DISCLAIMER HEAR ME ROAR)

Chapter#36

Harry was exhausted emotionally, physically, and mentally. He'd been up for over twenty four hours and hadn't eaten properly the entire time. He'd spent the latter part of the morning repeating that, yes, he had seen the Headmaster's departure and no, he wasn't talking to anyone about it. He'd avoided the newly appointed Inquisitorial squad (and wasn't that just an ironic little name for a band of wizards) in their seemingly single-minded quest to find him and take every last point from Gryffindor out of his hide. He'd unravelled spells that he had no part in making without even taking the time to examine them fully – relying solely on overpowering them with his own magic and spending quite a bit in the process.

However, his emotional situation was by far the worst. Ginny was busy helping Blaise and Neville and his instincts were running rampant with the urge to go and help her though he knew he'd do nothing more than get in her way. His friendship with Neville and Blaise was through Ginny, no matter how amicable Neville was with him, and he knew it.

The twins were planning something. They'd been almost found out by some upper year named Montague but, as Fred reported darkly earlier while coming to find George, they'd shoved him headfirst into a Vanishing Cabinet before he could deduct points.

Lucien had gone the minute the Headmaster had vanished. Kirra had arranged for him to disappear, despite his misgivings on the whole situation. The Warlord Prince had been making sporadic visits to Hermione for the past few weeks, ever since he'd seen the vile expression of delight upon Umbridge's face while firing Trelawney. He had been edgy during this latest visit and hadn't wanted to leave.

Harry, being a Warlord Prince himself, knew why. Hermione was due to start her moonsblood in the next week and Lucien hadn't finished laying a frighteningly graphic series of protection spells into her necklace yet.

Harry had finished his spells around her dorm room weeks ago.

It had been difficult, seeing as he'd had to air-walk up the stairs without anyone seeing him, but he had managed. It had given him an excellent chance to practice weaving tangled webs.

He was currently curled in a dark corner of the common room in one of the old, beaten chairs that no one particularly liked anymore and was farthest from the fireplace. He had long finished any work he had left undone and his nerves were beginning to itch.

The Sapphire sang through his blood, humming and itching and burning through him. It functioned and thrived and worked past his exhaustion and emotional upset in a vain attempt to keep him working at his best. His Sapphire didn't care about the trivial upsets of its vessel – it cared about what his instincts screamed at him.

He couldn't stop the tremors that made his hands shake until he clenched the armrests of the chair so hard the fabric creaked and ripped beneath his nails. He managed to avoid the urge to go and get his spidersilk and his frames and spin a web until his jewels were drained and empty but his will was done and he could rest.

But it hurt.

He ached for companionship; for someone to take his reigns and force him to rest. To let his instincts quiet to a dull hum under the firm guidance of someone who knew precisely what he was capable of.

Failing that, he really wanted a friend.

His familiars weren't enough. He'd asked them for silence hours ago and they understood his need so intensely that they had closed the bonds between them. He was aware that the bonds existed but, beyond that, he couldn't feel them. Their minds were so attuned to him and had hummed with the same power he possessed that it had only made him worse.

His jaw clenched as another fit wracked his frame – the Sapphire screaming at him to obey. He was glad for the darkness of his chosen corner then; he must have looked a wreck.

"Harry?" Neville's voice was soft and almost inaudible. But he and the Raijin were one and so his hearing was heightened and Neville knew it. "May I ask you a favour?"

"What is it, Neville?" he rasped, lolling his head to the side to get a glimpse of the book the other clutched. He felt the spells around it and sighed. "A new book?"

"Ginny wondered if you could remove the spells so we could copy it."

His instincts screamed again. He winced. "Ah, I see." He hesitated and Neville leaned forward. "How long do you have the book?"

"End of tomorrow but...it can wait. Really, Harry, it can. You look like hell's cat dragged you in."

The chuckle made breathing difficult. "Then I shall wait until tomorrow. Forgive me, but I am not up for very much of anything right now."

"I get it." Neville had his turn to hesitate. "Do you want me to get you anything?"

Bring him his friends back. Find him someone to serve – anyone to serve. Make the Sapphire stop screeching at him. Let his blood stop boiling in his skin and stop his magic ripping through his mind like the lightning beast it embodied. Destroy Voldemort for him so that he could rest and live his life as he chose it. Bring Dumbledore back so he could keep an eye on his manipulative Headmaster.

What he said was, "Don't worry. I'll be fine with a bit of rest."

Neville knew better than to question him again. He left with the book and his promise of help. He left Harry alone.

Harry closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. He slipped into his mind, melding with the Raijin seamlessly.

It wasn't a smooth fit, though they still matched one another perfectly. The meld was seamless but it was filled with roughened edges that put him on edge consciously and unconsciously. The only thing for it was to sooth both his Blood and wizarding sides.

Outside, by his physical body, someone sat down. He spread his Sapphire in a whisper thin strand out to feel who it was. Male was the first thing to come to him. Then he opened his senses to the stranger's psychic scent and his eyes flew open, turning toward the other incredulously.

Ron stared back at him, eyes narrowed in the way they always did when he was both annoyed and worried; the expression was familiar and it made Harry's mind ache.

"Hi," he rasped and winced at the hoarse quality to his voice.

"Hi," Ron echoed. He looked uncomfortable but resolute. "What...how are you?"

He could hear the worried teasing Ron desperately wanted to use but had dropped at the last second. He knew it would have come had their friendship been as strong as Harry had hoped. He prepared to say something to get Ron to leave but there was a flare of something that invaded his mind and his senses that made him pause.

Ron's presence made the Sapphire quiet.

He looked over and frowned thoughtfully, re-evaluating and calculating. "Exhausted," he said truthfully. Then, in a fit of spontaneity, "I'm lonely and stretched too thin over too many things."

Ron nodded silently, drawing up a chair and sitting down. His silence wasn't condemning, as Harry had always feared, but it made him speak more than he had wanted to.

"I have so many things to do and not enough time to do them all. I'm Head of a family, Ron, and I have responsibilities I'd never dreamed of. I have alliances now and obligations to each and they don't always agree and I have to make them all work because if I don't then my family is done for. I have a Dark Lord after me for something I can barely remember and instincts and magic I still don't know how to use or deal with properly."

"There's a venom sac under my nail," he continued, a hint of hysteria creeping into his tone despite his best efforts to hold it back. "The venom is strong enough to kill a person several times over if I'm not careful and it hardens sometimes and hurts if I don't get it out by ingesting weaker poisons."

"I have violent urges that I can't shake off and there's nothing I can do but throw myself into mindless work until it passes and even then I feel the strain."

He would have said more but he found his words failing and leaving him sitting in silent heavy breaths.

"Sounds like you're falling apart at the seams, mate," Ron said after a long moment. His eyes regarded Harry carefully and the green-eyed Warlord Prince could see the gears shifting in his mind. "Do you want some help?"

It was an absurd offer. Harry had barely spoken to Ron in months and Ron hadn't seemed to be paying attention to any of Harry's activities. Ron had all but rejected the real Harry without even taking the time to notice it was the real him. He wasn't even Blood as Hermione was when she refused to accept that he wasn't like them anymore. It was an absurd offer to even consider.

Yet he did consider it. "Yes," he said before he could stop himself. "Yes, I need help."

Ron nodded and something inside him shifted, some rough edge smoothing and easing his discomfort, making breathing easier. "Alright. You let me deal with all of those financial and legal papers you haul around to do in class. It's unimportant but necessary and I don't mind doing them if it lets you concentrate on the more important things."

Harry knew Ron; he knew his mind and his abilities. He knew that Ron could handle the things he offered to do and some of the weight lessened and the words phrased in the commanding tone almost made it seem like someone was taking his reigns. His head tilted absently and he peered up at Ron from above the rim of his glasses. He inhaled deeply, letting the other's psychic scent fill his senses, and nearly jolted.

Ron missed him. There was affection and the sort of bitter-sweetness of loneliness but beyond that was the constant feeling of truth and rightness. He smiled faintly and nodded at his once best friend.

"Okay." He blinked slowly and held out a hand. "Maybe not friends quite yet but..."

"I get it," Ron assured, reaching out quickly and snatching his hand as if he were afraid Harry would pull away. "It's a fresh start on an old friendship."

"Exactly." He felt the smile pulling on his face in a way he hadn't managed in a while. "But first, perhaps, sleep."

Ron didn't respond but the way his lips curled and his forehead wrinkled in a concerned frown told him all he needed to know. The youngest Weasley male had wanted to suggest it for some time but hadn't the nerve to broach a personal topic such as that with the fraying threads of their friendship just recently tied.

"I..." he hesitated and then forced himself to continue, "I'm sorry. I didn't even try and yet here you are still willing -" he had to stop short at the look of murderous anger that had flashed for a split second across Ron's face.

"It was just as much our fault as it was yours," he informed Harry curtly. "I didn't try to see past you talking with Slytherins and you didn't trust us to know the whole truth of what you were trying to do. We both made mistakes. That you still think it surprising that I'd come back and try to mend our friendship -" He heaved a sharp breath.

"Sorry," Harry said again and dipped his head. Ron had always gotten angry easily but this wasn't so much anger as it was genuine rage. It was both alarming and humbling at the same time. Harry hadn't had anyone angry on his behalf in quite some time.

Ron sighed heavily and scraped a hand through his hair. "Look," he said in frustration, "you look like shit. Go to sleep and in the morning we'll go over your papers and I'll take over the menial stuff, alright?"

Harry smiled and got up. Ron watched him carefully when his fingernails caught in the fabric for a moment. The young Warlord Prince shrugged gracefully. "I don't know my own strength?"

Ron just shook his head and that easy gesture warmed him more than anything else.

Luna blinked in surprise at the dream-catcher before her. "Hello," she murmured, reaching up to untangle it from its perch on a suit of armour. The suit obligingly leaned down. "How did you get here?"

It shimmered blue in the candlelight and she almost dropped it. "Oh!" Henry poked his head out from her pocket and squeaked. "You are bright, aren't you?" She turned it this way and that to inspect it. Blue beads predominated it but there was a smattering of red along the rim that made her brows shoot up.

"Luna?" George's voice broke her thoughts and she looked over. The younger twin was standing off to the side, eyes faintly narrowed. "Are you still wearing the shoes I conjured?"

"No." Those had gone missing at least a day ago. "I got mine back."

"Okay." He smiled a little but there was still a tightness around his eyes. "Why are you wandering around the corridors alone?"

Henry chattered agreement in her mind and she thumped her pocket in retaliation. Henry shot out and chattered all the way over to George's feet where he perched on the top of one of his shoes. The boy leaned down and picked him up, eyeing her sideways curiously.

She smiled and tilted her head to one side innocently. "I felt an inexplicable urge to get hot cocoa and stumbled across this," she held up her find, "on my way to the kitchen."

George was closer now and Henry was perched on his shoulder. She ignored her familiar in favour of watching the other as he looked down the hall and frowned before turning his gaze to her and reaching out to brush her arm. "You shouldn't be out alone with those Inquisitorial idiots prowling around."

"I had Henry," she muttered. George's frown deepened but he didn't say anything. He didn't need to; she knew it was ridiculous to claim a Puffskein as a protector. She dropped her gaze to the dream-catcher and gently fingered the beads. They shifted and trembled at her touch – edging away until she removed her finger.

"Luna..."

"I know." She looked up and stared at him. A thousand eyes stared back with a thousand emotions. She shook her head, felt her earrings (were they radishes or carrots?) swing against her neck, and brushed her hair back behind her ear in irritation. "I know what could happen."

Henry – crying in pain beneath a foot – with jewel eyes fading to black.

George, shouting in the hall, a splash of colour striking him down while a red fox whined and growled anxiously at his side.

Draco Malfoy with an arm curled about her shoulders, shuffling her down a hall and casting worried glances for signs of Death Eaters.

Ginny, lips curled with cruelty, standing beside an equally cruel Blaise.

Harry – snarling and magnificent – was a force of nature wreaking destruction for her pain. Lightning crashing through the gloom and thunder shaking the earth at each cry.

Malfoy sends bright red and orange curses at her – lethal intent shining in his eyes.

"Luna!" the images shifted, swirled, vanished. George was bent to her level, eyes peering intently into hers, flickering side to side as if measuring her gaze. "Alright there?"

Henry was warm and curled near her chin. She smiled absently. "I'm fine; just drifted off a little."

"Right," said George. "I think you and Harry do the exact same thing when you 'drift off' because he gets the exact same look."

Gleaming blue beads swirling like a web. She grinned. "Does he?"

George huffed gently. "You could just tell me and we wouldn't have this problem, you know? Not that I mind distracting either of you every once in awhile when you drift a little too far. Just...I don't like not being able to help a friend."

The way he said friend was odd. It was the way she referred to Ginny (vaguely uncertain no it was firm and unyielding) whenever she was forced to say the word 'friend'; like she wasn't certain the word applied. Uncertain what possessed her to; she reached out and caught hold of his wrist. "We're friends," she said firmly.

He smiled at her and she frowned. He caught the look and his smile softened into something fainter but more genuine. "We are," he agreed, twisting his hand to clasp hers, "and, as your friend, I'm taking it upon myself to escort you to the kitchens for your cocoa and then I'm taking you back to your dorm."

He'd tricked her into saying it. Henry buzzed cheerful agreement and she squeaked when George flung an arm around her shoulders. The visions shifted and blurred the edges of her vision but otherwise remained in their own realities. It was both comforting and unsettling. She huddled against the warmth the male put off in a futile attempt to get away from the intangible possibilities. They didn't fade anymore than they already had but the heat made her sleepy and comfortable and so it almost made up for it.

"Hot cocoa?" she whispered again. George was smiling as he carefully guided her down the hall and through a maze of passages towards the dungeons and the kitchens housed nearby. His arm remained where it was, solid and warm and real against her shoulders, neck, and hair.

"I'll even let you have marshmallows," he agreed amicably.

"Why aren't you with Harry?" she murmured. Henry grumbled softly but it was affectionate. She smiled and tilted her head to peer at George curiously. "He has had a difficult week, I would think."

"Ah, Ron is with him," he said. "He needed a real friend; not me or George."

Luna frowned. In the many realms of possibility, Fred and George were always friends to the young Warlord Prince. "He needed a friend," she said. "You are just as much a friend to him as Ronald."

"It's different."

"No." She refused to be doubted in this. "Harry, your brother, and you have been bound up since the moment you noticed him at the train station. He will always need you."

George peered down at her and she maintained their eye-contact. It was important that he understand Harry's need. Harry was important. His blue had been bleeding into her possibilities and she knew that it was only a matter of time before it invaded everything. He would need Fred and George; he would need Ginny and Ron and Hermione; he would need Lucien and Daemonar and Kirra. Everyone would be needed but only a few would be needed specifically by Harry. She wouldn't let that thread vanish into her weaving. It was a constant she would anchor with her own life if she had to.

Squeeeek! Henry butted himself against her throat and peeped incessantly. She blinked and it was if she were waking up. George swam into view and she felt a flush rise to her cheeks. Embarrassment? She hadn't felt that in a long time.

"Sorry," she murmured, glancing away and feeling his arm still about her shoulders. His grip squeezed briefly and she could hear the smile in his voice.

"Don't worry."

Kirra had gone to the matron of the infirmary for a notice of illness. She'd unpacked one of her mother's shadows and set it to lying in her bed, sniffling and croaking hoarsely as it 'read' school books. After assuring her dorm-mates that she would be fine if she was just left to rest, she'd gone into her room and shut the door, whisking away along the Winds within Hogwarts.

Her landing spot put her straight out along the edge of the Forbidden Forest. A vixen peered at her with golden eyes from where it curled against a rock. The blonde glanced at it and then walked over, settling down and staring ahead.

"He needs more help than just your brother, you know," she said finally.

The vixen's tail flicked in agitation. Kirra glanced down and then tilted her head back to peer at the sky. "Things are coming to a head and I know you are aware. I know you want to help but you really aren't the help he needs. Not really."

A soft snort. The blonde ignored the noise and continued to peer upwards.

"I caught the scent of someone who can help him today," Kirra murmured absently. The vixen's head swung upwards and fixed unblinking on the Queen. She shrugged. "It was faint but my webs confirmed it."

Ginny folded her arms and frowned at Kirra. "Do you make it a habit to just know everything?"

"No," a faint smile curled the corners of the blonde's lips upwards, "but I do so enjoy the looks I get for it."

Ginny barked a laugh. "Right. Now, explain what's happening to Harry in simple terms."

"He's going to use his status as last of the Potters to get his Apparition license during Easter Holidays," said Kirra. "Grandpapa will likely come and collect his ward so he can spend some time in Kaeleer with Mama and learn a little more from Witch."

"I see." Cinnamon eyes turned upwards much as Kirra's had previously been. "What did his first Rut tell you?"

Kirra chuckled mirthlessly. "He's fixed on you because you're the closest to his perfect mate without being his mate. I'm not even sure he has one."

"You mean mate like your parents, is that right?" Ginny hummed thoughtfully. "I'm flattered, I suppose, but I'm also relieved; he's something like my closest friend."

"You are his closest friend and companion, barring his familiars," said Kirra. "You're an anchor for him but you lack the necessary control and understanding to be his opposite."

"I don't mind being his anchor." Ginny peered down at Kirra. "You said you caught wind of his opposite?"

"I did; it was a whispering echo in a web and on the Winds but it was definitely there and it was potently Harry's."

A smile bloomed on Ginny's face that was brilliant. "Good," she said firmly. "If anyone deserves something to hold onto that is undeniably theirs, it's Harry."

TBC...