Hi, all! ZenoNoKyuubi here with an all new story! Now, the updates to this story will be a bit slow, as I'm still writing it. However, due to some... problems... in Heir of Dracula, I have decided to post it as I finish each chapter, instead of finishing the story, then posting it. So, please leave a review and tell me what you think!

This is an Intelligent!Harry fic, and with that follows Super!Harry!

Harry Potter's room, in Number Four, Privet Drive, was a mess. The whole room was littered with books, parchments, quills, and ink wells. There were long pieces of parchment depicting diagrams and complex calculations that the average Hogwarts student wouldn't even have a clue what they meant.

Harry Potter knew, on the other hand.

Said thirteen-year old boy stood in the very center of his room. Behind him, on his desk, a piece of parchment had been flattened out, and standing upright, perfectly still, upon it was a poisonous green quill. Also on the desk was a microscope, an alchemy station, and several phials and vials filled with strange liquids.

"The question: How do post owls know their destinations?" Harry spoke suddenly, and the quill started scribbling on the parchment. "Hypothesis: Their inherent magic allows their instincts to guide them. Test subject number one, designation Hedwig, has proven to be most helpful in proving this hypothesis."

In the corner of the room stood a bird cage, in which sat an owl that had its feathers ruffled, hooting indignantly at Harry, who ignored her.

"The time is..." Harry checked his watch, starting to pace around the room. "...three minutes past one o'clock. Given the owl's top speed and the distance to my friend and colleague Hermione Granger's house, it should take three hours and thirty-two minutes to fly there, another two to wait for the response, and another three hours and thirty-two minutes to fly back. All together, it amounts to seven hours and six minutes, exactly the time it took for Hedwig, which means she wasn't confused for even a second as to the direction she needed to fly..."

"BOY, STOP TALKING TO YOURSELF UP THERE!" came the voice of Uncle Vernon, making Harry stop his pacing.

"Side-note, a change of location would be prudent. Perhaps Hermione has room in her house?"


"Side-note to the side-note, develop a sedative for Uncle Vernon... whale dosage..."

The quill put a line under what it had written, and then fell to the desk, unmoving. Harry walked over to the desk and looked over the parchment, picking up the quill and looking over his research notes. Then, he picked up the letter Hermione had delivered.

Dear Harry,

Thank you for the letter. A bit strange, asking me to write back as fast as I could when there was no immediate danger, though... However, I answered anyway. Hedwig looked a bit angry, why was that? Anyway, I'm fine, thanks. Have you decided what classes you are going to take this year? I am going to take them all. I don't want to miss anything.

We are going to France in one week. Hopefully, I'll see you in Diagon Alley when I get back.

Take care,


Harry immediately took out a fresh piece of parchment and started writing.

"'Dear Hermione,'" he spoke out loud, a tendency he had picked up after speaking out loud to his self-writing quill. "'I hope you will have fun in France.' Yes, I really should write that... 'Me, I'll probably be stuck here the whole summer. I will try to get to Diagon Alley and set up shop in the Leaky Cauldron, though.' Hm... 'Let me know when you arrive at Diagon Alley, and we'll meet up.' Uh..." Harry scratched his head with the quill, leaving black lines in his scalp. "'I'm taking Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes. Have fun in France.' Maybe... Oh, I already wrote that. 'Love,' no..." He scratched it out. "'Signed, Harry.' There."

He moved over to Hedwig's cage, rolling up the parchment. As soon as he reached in, Hedwig hopped away from him.

"Oh, don't be such a baby," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not going to poke you with my wand anymore."

Tentatively, Hedwig stared at Harry, then slowly moved over, sticking out her leg and letting Harry tie the letter to her leg.

"Take this to Hermione," he told Hedwig, who hooted and flew off. He watched her go with a hum, rubbing his chin. "Maybe I should buy some mice or rats..."

"Journal, August Seventh," Harry spoke in his recently set up 'lab' in the Leaky Cauldron. On the desk, the quill was scribbling furiously into a black book. "Set up shop in the Leaky Cauldron. The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, mentioned in Journal Five, page eighty-eight, greeted me when I arrived, chastising me for leaving my relatives' house. He also asked me that for the remainder of my summer holidays, I don't go wandering in Muggle London, for reasons as of yet unknown. Hm... Curious..."

Harry stopped his pacing and looked out the window overlooking the crowded Diagon Alley.

"Purchased mice from the local store. Told the owner that I wanted to feed them to my pet snake. Have tested my new anesthetics on them. Let us see how it goes."

He moved over to the corner of the room, where three cages were seen, labeled 1 through 3. In each cage was a little white mouse. None of them were moving.

"Subjects have been given dosages corresponding with their size. They have been under for three hours now. By my calculations, they should be waking up in another hour. I shall check again later."

"Journal, August Thirty-first," Harry spoke as he held a syringe in his hand. "I have administered the new artificial adrenaline to designations Mickey, Minnie, and Charles. According to my calculations, the adrenaline should take effect... now."

The mice in the cages, which had gotten their names written down under their numbers, suddenly started running around in their cages, jumping and squeaking. They seemed to have no control over their actions, and just ran to get rid of the excess energy in their bodies.

"Take note, artificial adrenaline number five is a huge success."

A knock came upon Harry's door, and Harry looked toward the quill, taking out his wand and giving it a wave as he put down the syringe. The quill quivered, then fell down.


As soon as Harry had opened the door, he had been assaulted by a bushy-haired missile, which brought him in for a bone-crushing hug.

"Good day, Hermione," Harry spoke humorously as Hermione let go of him, smiling brightly. She was very tanned, compared to how she had looked last year. France had been good to her, he noticed.

"How are you?" Hermione asked happily. "I asked Tom which room you were in, and he told me."

"How good of him to do that," Harry said, and noticed how Hermione's eyes drifted to the cages with the mice.

"Harry... What are you doing with those mice?"

"Oh, Hermione, this is Mickey, Minnie, and Charles. I am trying out an artificial adrenaline on them. It's working wonders, I must say."

"You're experimenting on small animals?" Hermione asked, her eyes widening in shock. "Harry, that's cruel!"

"It is not, Hermione. They're just animals. Besides, they're cheaper and easier to deal with than humans," Harry said simply with a shrug.

"Then why not use Hedwig?" Hermione asked, gesturing for the owl by the window, who hooted indignantly.

"Because, Hermione, that would be cruel."

"She's an animal!"

"No, she is my friend," Harry said simply. "I don't experiment on friends." Hermione stared at him, and he shrugged. "Alright, I don't experiment on my animal friends."

"I still think it's barbaric..." Hermione muttered. Harry smiled.

"I still have some of it left. Want me to try it out on you instead?"

Hermione jumped as Harry picked up the syringe, smiling at her. She cleared her throat and looked to the mice.

"So, how are the mice reacting?" she asked nervously. Harry grinned. Self-preservation instincts were so amusing in humans.

"As expected, I estimated the dosage perfectly," Harry said, walking over to Hermione's side. "They should be coming down right about... now."

As expected, Harry's estimation was spot on, as the two watched the mice slowly calm down, until they lay panting in their cages.

"Harry, is this all- Ow!" Hermione yelled out as she looked down, to see that Harry had just stuck the syringe into her arm, injecting her with the rest of the urine-yellow liquid. Her eyes widened. "Harry, you- AAAAH!" she suddenly screamed loudly as she took off running out of the room at a speed Harry hadn't thought her capable of. He waved his wand, and the quill stood up again.

"Take note, three CC's of artificial adrenaline number three is too much for a thirteen-year-old girl to function properly." The quill scribbled it all down, and then fell to the desk again, while Harry chuckled. "Took off like a monkey from a box."

With that, he jogged out of the room.

And so, ten minutes later found Harry outside the Magical Menagerie, with a panting Hermione who looked like she had just run a marathon, which she basically had, running around Diagon Alley, unable to stop.

"That was not funny, Harry..." Hermione muttered, clutching a stitch in her side.

"It wasn't for fun. It was for science," Harry said simply. "Let's just go in, shall we?"

Hermione sniffed angrily and made her way inside, followed by Harry.

There wasn't much room inside. Every inch of wall was hidden by cages. It was smelly and very noisy because the occupants of these cages were all squeaking, squawking, jabbering, or hissing. The witch behind the counter was already advising a wizard on the care of double-ended newts, so Harry and Hermione waited, examining the cages.

A pair of enormous purple toads sat gulping wetly and feasting on dead blowflies. A gigantic tortoise with a jewel-encrusted shell was glittering near the window. Poisonous orange snails were oozing slowly up the side of their glass tank, and a fat white rabbit kept changing into a silk top hat and back again with a loud popping noise. Then there were cats of every color, a noisy cage of ravens, a basket of funny custard-colored furballs that were humming loudly, and on the counter, a vast cage of sleek black rats that were playing some sort of skipping game using their long, bald tails.

"Ah, the boy with the mice," the witch said once the double-ended newt wizard left, eying him suspiciously. "Haven't seen you in here for any more mice... Are you sure you wanted them to feed your snake?"

"Never mind that," Harry said, waving the witch off. "My friend Hermione here wants to buy a pet."

A large, orange cat landed on the counter as Hermione stepped up to it. Its fur was thick and fluffy, but it was definitely a bit bowlegged and its face looked grumpy and oddly squashed, as though it had run headlong into a brick wall. The cat purred softly as it looked at Hermione, who reached out her hand to pet it.

"This is Crookshanks," the witch behind the counter said. "He's been in here for ages. No one wants him, it seems."

"He's gorgeous," Hermione said with a bright smile as she petted the cat, who purred contentedly at her signs of affection.

"You... You want him?" the witch asked in surprise, and Hermione nodded.

"Yes, I'll take him. I had wanted an owl, but I simply cannot, in good conscience, leave this handsome fellow here," Hermione cooed, and Harry, now staring into the rat cage, made a disgusted noise, shaking his head.

"I suppose he'll be good for... Hm..."

"What was that?" Hermione asked, shooting Harry a look.

"I said, I suppose he'll be good for trying out a couple of sedatives," Harry said, only to freeze at the look Hermione gave him. It was so scary that Harry momentarily considered never doing animal testing again, but only for a second.

"'Journal, September First,'" Harry spoke as he sat in the Hogwarts Express, in a compartment with only two other people, Hermione and a sleeping pile of rags apparently named R. J. Lupin. "'Packed up my things, and am now heading for Hogwarts to set up shop there. Have not yet made use of the room inside my trunk, will set up my lab inside it when I get to the school.'"

"Why do you speak out loud when you're writing?" Hermione wanted to know as Harry scribbled in his journal. "I mean, I understand when you're not holding the quill, but when you're writing yourself..."

"It's just a habit I've picked up," Harry said with a shrug. "It's easier to focus for me when I speak the words out loud."

During his stay in Diagon Alley, Harry had made several important purchases. He had bought a whole new alchemy station, ingredients, and his most important purchase. He had bought a trunk, a very special trunk. It had seven locks that went to seven different compartments. One of those compartments had a ladder that went down to a very large room, where Harry had decided to set up a portable laboratory. He hadn't done so yet, however.

"'Will report more after the feast,'" Harry said as he wrote it down, humming to himself. It felt like he had forgotten to write something down, but he just couldn't figure out what it was.

During his first two years at Hogwarts, Harry had been very curious regarding all aspects of magic. He was a man of science, and had always been, and therefore sought explanations, scientific explanations, for everything. That was why he had spent most his time at Hogwarts in the library, or in the common room reading through the books he had purchased, reading up on the theory of magic. He had also taken an interest in alchemy, magical engineering, arithmancy, the works. He was a very smart boy. His teacher back in Muggle school had found him so impressive that she gave him an IQ test, which showed that his IQ was one hundred and sixty-eight.

Therefore, Harry was a bit of a prodigy at Hogwarts. He aced his classes, and spent his free time doing self-studies, owning several books on alchemy and magical engineering, along with several Muggle subjects such as chemistry, biology, etcetera.

That was why, once Harry pocketed his journal, he immediately dug into his trunk, the third compartment to be exact, and took out his book on Advanced Chemistry, digging his nose into it as the train rolled steadily on, toward Hogwarts.

"So, how was France?" Harry asked without looking up from his book.

As Hermione went into a long-winded, and very detailed, retelling of her holiday to France, Harry read up on the morphine section of the chemistry book. He was very interested in how to make it, and would make sure to order in the ingredients for it. Most of them would have been hard to get his hands on, but he was a wizard, and had access to wizard traders. So it would be much easier to get a hold of some of these things...

"...and then we came home, and I was amazed to see how tanned I had gotten. My- Ow!" Hermione looked down to see that Harry had once more stuck a syringe in her arm, and pumped some kind of substance into her body. "Harry!" she hissed angrily. "You can't just... just..." Her eyelids started growing heavy, and her eyes soon closed. She suddenly slumped, fast asleep, and Harry grinned, taking out his journal.

"'Note, human testing of sedative number four, designation AS-4: Anxiolytic Sedative-Four, was a huge success. Test subject should be waking up in about an hour.'"

The train moved steadily onward as it started to rain, and Harry once more buried his face in Advanced Chemistry. It wasn't until an hour later that Hermione slowly woke up, looking a bit groggy.

"What...? Where is...?" she blinked awake, and then glared at Harry. "Harry! Tell me you didn't just test one of your sedatives on me!"

"Okay, I didn't test one of my sedatives on you," Harry lied easily, not looking up from his book, only for Hermione to smack him on the arm.

"Without lying!"

"Now that's going to be hard."

Harry took out his journal and started writing again.

"'After waking, patient shows intense and nearly unrestrained anger. I will be forced to readminister sedative to calm her down. Possible side-effects of multiple doses, unknown. Will test more later.'"

"Oh no, you're not testing anything else on me!" Hermione said heatedly. "You're going to kill me one of these days, is that what you want?"

"Don't be such a baby," Harry said, filling the syringe up with two CC's of AS-4. "This isn't enough to knock you out. It will merely calm you down."

"I don't need to calm down! I have plenty of reason to be mad at you, Harry! Stop waving that thing around!"

"Then sit still," Harry said, taking aim with the syringe. "I don't want to accidentally stick this in your eye. Oh, hello, Ginny."

Hermione looked toward the door, only to immediately look back at Harry upon seeing no one there, just in time for Harry to stick the syringe in her arm again.

"Harry! Don't just..." Hermione panted slightly, and slowly, a smile appeared on her face. A giggle, something that was as far from Hermione's normal behavior as one could get, escaped her. That giggle turned into a quiet laugh as she pointed at Harry, who started writing in his journal again.

"'Low doses of AS-4, henceforth dubbed...'" Harry scratched his head with his quill. "'...Laughing Liquid, for reasons soon to be revealed, appears to cause a relaxed nature and sense of euphoria in the patient, causing them to lose control of their ability to not laugh. These effects are similar to nitrous oxide (N2O), commonly known as 'Laughing Gas,' and are no doubt abated the same way, with a glass of water. These results are most intriguing, considering the sedative is not a nitrous oxide mixture in any form. More studies will have to be performed before a complete analysis can be conducted.'"

"You sound funny when you write in your journal, did you know that?" Hermione giggled out happily, and Harry smiled.

"I'm glad to see that you're not mad at me anymore."

"Oh, I could never stay mad at you, Harry, you know that," Hermione said, hugging a pleasantly surprised Harry.

The rain thickened as the train sped yet farther north. The windows were now a solid, shimmering gray, which gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, the wind roared, Hermione laughed, but Professor Lupin still slept on.

Harry, who had changed into his Hogwarts robes, looked at his watch, humming. They should be arriving soon.

He had no sooner thought it, before the train started to slow down. Harry narrowed his eyes at his watch.

"We shouldn't be there just yet. We're twenty minutes early," he said to Hermione, whose laughing fit had passed, and she was now leaning against the wall, a peaceful smile on her face as she kept her eyes closed. She hummed happily, Harry's words probably not registering with her.

The train came to a stop with a jolt, and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness.

"That can't be good," Harry mused as he tried to look around.

"Am... Am I blind?" Hermione asked, still a bit out of it. "My eyes are open, but I can't see."

"Nice to see you're coming down. And the lights are out is all," Harry explained.

The compartment door suddenly opened and someone fell painfully over Harry's legs.

"Sorry... d'you know what's going on? Ouch... sorry..."

"Hello, Neville," Harry said pleasantly, feeling around in the dark and pulling Neville up by his cloak.

"Harry? Is that you? What's happening?"

"No idea. Sit down."

"I'm... I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on," came Hermione's voice. She sounded much better now. Harry felt her pass him, heard the door slide open again, and then a thud and two squeals of pain.

"Who's that?"

"Who's that?"



"What are you doing?"

"I was looking for Ron..."

"Well, he's not in here, but come in and sit down," Hermione said, and Harry felt Ginny walk over to stand in front of him.

"Not here!" he said hurriedly. "I'm here!"

"Ouch!" Neville said.

"Quiet!" a hoarse voice said suddenly.

Professor Lupin appeared to have woken up at last. Harry could hear movements in his corner. None of them spoke.

There was a soft, crackling noise, and a shivering light filled the compartment. Professor Lupin appeared to be holding a handful of flames. They illuminated his tired, gray face, but his eyes looked alert and wary.

"Stay where you are," he said in the same hoarse voice, and he got slowly to his feet with his handful of fire held out in front of him.

But the door slid slowly open before Lupin could reach it.

Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Lupin's hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. Harry's eyes darted downward, and what he saw made his stomach contract. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, grayish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water...

But it was visible only for a split second. As thought the creature beneath the cloak sensed Harry's gaze, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of its black cloak.

And then the thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings.

An intense cold swept over them all. Harry felt his own breath catch in his chest. The cold went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest, it was inside his very heart...

Harry's eyes rolled up into his head. He couldn't see. He was drowning in cold. There was a rushing in his ears as though in water. He was being dragged downward, the roaring growing louder...

And then, from far away, he heard screaming, terrible, terrified, pleading screams. He wanted to help whoever it was, he tried to move his arms, but couldn't... a thick white fog was swirling around him, inside him...

"Harry! Harry! Are you alright?"

Someone was slapping his face.


Harry opened his eyes. There were lanterns above him, and the floor was shaking... the Hogwarts Express was moving again and the lights had come back on. He seemed to have slid out of his seat onto the floor. Hermione was kneeling next to him, and above him he could see Neville and Professor Lupin watching. Harry felt very sick. When he put up his hand to push his glasses back on, he felt cold sweat on his face.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked as she helped him back into his seat.

"I'm... I'm fine..." Harry muttered, looking toward the door. The creature had vanished. "What happened? Who screamed?"

"No one screamed, Harry," Hermione said, shaking her head.

Harry looked around the bright compartment. Ginny and Neville looked back at him, both very pale.

"But I heard screaming-"

A loud snap made them all jump. Professor Lupin was breaking an enormous slab of chocolate into pieces.

"Here," he said to Harry, handing him a particularly large piece. "Eat it. It'll help."

Harry took the chocolate, but didn't eat it.

"What was that?"

"A dementor," Lupin said, now giving chocolate to everyone else. "One of the dementors of Azkaban."

Everyone stared at him. Lupin crumpled up the empty chocolate wrapper and put it in his pocket.

"Eat," he repeated. "It'll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me..."

Harry wiped his forehead as Lupin strolled past him and disappeared into the corridor.

"Are you sure you're okay, Harry?" Hermione asked, watching Harry anxiously.

"What happened?" Harry asked, still wiping his face.

"Well, that thing... the dementor... stood there and looked around (I mean, I think it did, I couldn't see its face)... and you... you... you sort of fell out of your seat and started twitching. And Professor Lupin stepped over you, and walked toward the dementor, and pulled out his wand," Hermione said, "and he said, 'None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go.' But the dementor didn't move, so Lupin muttered something, and a silvery thing shot out of his wand at it, and it turned around and sort of glided away..."

"It was horrible," Neville said in a higher voice than usual. "Did you feel how cold it got when it came in?"

Ginny, who was huddled in her corner looking nearly as bad as Harry felt, gave a small sob. Hermione went over and put a comforting arm around her.

"Well," Harry said, taking a bite of his chocolate and finding, to his surprise, how warmth spread suddenly to the tips of his fingers and toes, "we gotta fucking stop that from happening again..."

"Harry, language," Hermione scolded, but Harry just scoffed and ate the rest of his chocolate, before reaching into his robes and taking out a syringe with compound AS-2, one of his milder sedatives, and sticking it into his own arm, injecting himself with the sedative and closing his eyes.

They didn't talk much during the rest of the journey, and at long last the train stopped at Hogsmeade station, and there was a great scramble to get outside. It was freezing on the tiny platform, and rain was driving down in icy sheets.

Harry and Hermione followed the rest of the school along the platform and out onto a rough mud track, where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited the remaining students, each pulled, Harry could only assume, by an invisible horse, because when they climbed inside and shut the door, the coach set off all by itself, bumping and swaying in procession.

"I'm fine," Harry said suddenly as Harry and Hermione sat alone in a coach that smelled faintly of mold and straw. Hermione had been looking at him sideways for a while now, as though frightened that he might collapse again.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked anxiously, and Harry chuckled.

"Would you like a sedative as well?" he asked, patting his chest where he had his box of syringes.

At last, the carriage swayed to a halt, and Harry and Hermione got out.

The two of them joined the crowd swarming up the steps, through the giant oak front doors, into the cavernous entrance hall, which was lit with flaming torches, and housed a magnificent marble staircase that led to the upper floors.

The door into the Great Hall stood open at the right. Harry followed the crowd toward it, but had barely glimpsed the enchanted ceiling, which was black and cloudy tonight, when a voice called, "Potter! Granger! I want to see you both!"

Harry and Hermione turned around, surprised. Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher and Head of Gryffindor House, was calling over the heads of the crowd. She was a stern-looking witch who wore her hair in a tight bun. Her sharp eyes were framed with square spectacles. Harry fought his way over to her, curious as to why she could possibly want to talk to him...

"There's no need to look so worried," she told Hermione as the duo reached her. "I just want a word in my office."

Professor McGonagall ushered Harry and Hermione away from the chattering crowd. They accompanied her across the entrance hall, up the marble staircase, and along a corridor.

Once they were in her office, a small room with a large, welcoming fire, Professor McGonagall motioned Harry and Hermione to sit down. She settled herself behind her desk and said abruptly, "Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead to say that you were taken ill on the train, Potter."

"Yes, I was, but-" Harry was interrupted by a soft knock on the door, and Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, came bustling in.

"Oh, it's you, is it?" Madam Pomfrey said, bending down to stare closely at him. "I suppose you've been doing something dangerous again?"

"I'm fine," Harry said. "Honestly, I-"

"It was a dementor, Poppy," Professor McGonagall said.

They exchanged a dark look, and Madam Pomfrey clucked disapprovingly.

"Setting dementors around a school," she muttered, pushing back Harry's hair and feeling his forehead. "He won't be the last who collapses. He-"

"Pulse is normal, blood-pressure, normal," Harry interrupted. "I am fine. I already got some chocolate from Professor Lupin, and I've already taken a sedative."

"Oho, did you now? And what kind of sedative was that?" Madam Pomfrey asked, raising an eyebrow as she peered into Harry's eyes.

"My own design. I've been working on it all summer," Harry said simply. "And judging by my heart rate, my blood pressure, and my general lack of anxiety, I'd say it's working wonders."

"You took an untested sedative, Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked in shock, but Harry just scoffed.

"Of course I've tested it, and the mice I've tested it on are fine, I am fine, so what's the fuss?"

"Well, I have to say, he seems... fine," Madam Pomfrey said, almost sounding disappointed to hear a student be right about saying that he was fine.

"Are you sure you feel alright, Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked sharply.

"Yes," Harry said.

"Very well. Kindly wait outside while I have a quick word with Miss Granger about her course schedule, then we can go down to the feast together."

Well, there you have it, the first chapter! I tried not to lean too heavily on canon, but it was hard not to do so for the first chapter. I promise you that I won't be copying much from canon in future chapters!