Harry Potter's revenge.

Invisible, even from the gaze of death himself, Harry ghosted along a country lain of the Welsh village of Llangernyw like a… well, like a ghost. His apparition like movements mirrored his quarry, who floated, transparent and silvery, on the far side of a nearby chest-high dry stone wall. Her dress flowed down her sides like her hair, down over her slightly rounded tummy, rippling in imaginary winds, to hover a few feet above the wet, mossy, early November ground. Harry's yew wand tingled along his arm, so close to its mother tree. The moon illuminated the graveyard, casting dark shadows among the tombstones, holes of darkness in a garden of twilight.

He'd been lucky to find time so quickly for this visit. His night-time schedule was usually packed weeks in advance and he didn't like the idea of treating Ginny's training as a time bank.

He floated over the low wall and touched down in the centre of the graveyard, right in front of the ancient yew tree, and right in front of Angelystor.

He coughed.

Angelystor perked up and looked around, obviously unable to see him. He whipped the cloak off himself.

Angelystor widened her ethereal "Harry!"

eyes.

He smiled. "Greetings again, my fair lady." The dead young woman shot to within a foot of him and stopped, dead. "My, you've grown!" She circled him, inspecting every inch. "And, you've filled out too. You were so scrawny when I first saw you."

Harry grinned. "I'm glad to hear it."

"And you came to visit! Oh oh! The wand. Did you make it?" Harry flicked his yew wand into his hand and held it up for inspection. She floated around it from different angles like a fish. "…Beautiful."

"It takes one to know one."

Angelystor giggled. "Oh, stop that." She backed up a bit. "Still the charmer, I see. The girls must love you."

Harry lowered the wand and sat down, cross-legged, on the damp, mossy ground. "That would be nice, wouldn't it." Angelystor giggled again. "In a few years, maybe?" "Maybe."

"Or maybe you have a sweetheart now?" Harry smiled. "I am friends with four, sort-of five girls." "Four, sort-of five?" the transparent young woman did a small loop in the air. "Go on then, Harry. Tell me about them."

"Well,"—Harry made himself more comfortable—"first, there's Daphne. She's very pretty and loves the outdoors. She comes across as quite cold and distant, but she's actually quite friendly once you get to know her. Shy and surprisingly modest too, sometimes." He held up a hand and counted down on his fingers. "Then there's Hermione. She's also pretty, although she has problems believing it — loves to learn and has an intense drive to be the best at whatever she does."

"At Hogwarts? Ravenclaw or Slytherin?"

Harry smirked. "Slytherin, naturally." He counted off another finger. "Next is Ginny. She's…" He hesitated. what? All of them are pretty."

Angelystor giggled, yet again.

"You

know

"She's also fiery, passionate, and has a thirst to prove herself. I think that comes from having six older brothers."

"Six?" Angelystor goggled.

"Yeah, I know, right?" He shuddered. "Then there's Luna." He paused. How did one begin to describe Luna? "Luna is… pretty," he finished lamely.

Angelystor raised an eyebrow.

"She's really smart. I mean scarily smart. And powerful. And… well, you know how I said that Daphne can be quite modest? Well, Luna isn't. Ever." "Sounds like an interesting girl."

Harry drew a hand through his hair. "Sometimes, I think Luna might actually have some seer blood in her."

Angelystor perked up. "Really?"

"I don't know. It's just a feeling."

"Mmmm… that was four girls, and the fifth?"

"Alexandra. We're not really close friends yet, but we share owls, and she is…" He trailed off before finding the right words. "She has what I feel I need more of to defeat Voldemort and keep those I care about safe. Boldness, ruthlessness, killer instinct."

The ever-pregnant ghost eyed him for a moment. Then she smiled. "Let me guess, she's pretty?"

Harry dropped his serious face and let out a chuckle. "Yes, yes Alex is pretty. She gets her looks from her father's side of the family rather than her mother's. I'm sure she's quite thankful of that."

"Mmmmm…" Angelystor looked thoughtful. "And your quest to defeat Dark Lord Voldemort?"

He settled down. "Yes. That is actually the main reason I'm here."

"Oh?"

"I need to learn divination as you learned it in your time."

Angelystor looked startled. "My time? Is it so different from yours?" "Yes. Much of the old knowledge of divination has been lost. I'm hoping that your knowledge can be one of my team's key strategic advantages over the Dark Lord and his ideology."

Angelystor frowned and floated back and forth in front of the ancient yew tree.

Harry watched her.

Eventually, she stopped. "Harry,"—she turned to him—"after you left last time, I realised something. You now carry with you the wood of the Llangernyw Yew. The wood of my tree. The tree that I am bound to. Find a way to re-bind me to your wand, take me with you, and I will teach anyone you wish me to."

Harry let out a long breath and bit his lip. Angelystor's request had difficulties, even if he could find the right ritual to make it work. He couldn't very well go around with a ghost following him everywhere he went. It would blow the whole 'Harry Potter is Lord Slytherin' secret wide open for starters. But that didn't make it impossible. And it would free the beautiful ghost from the very thing that he too fled from more than anything else… imprisonment.

Harry slowly got to his feet. "Very well, my lady. I will do it."

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