So, you've waited, you've wondered... and at last I am home! writing has recommenced, but there are some new stipulations... It will be much slower in publishing that prior, as I do not have infinite amounts of time to spend writing anymore, and what I have written will only last so long if I post weekly. I will try to see what I can do, but I will be less often, if consistent. Apologies, but some story is better than none yes?

Without further comment, except for a resounding plea for them from you all, I proudly present.

New Player Year 5

The Drums of War

Prologue

Grief and Pain

Harry heard a second crack of apparition seconds after he landed in his bedroom, dropping his trunk to the floor and setting Hedwig's cage aside. "Master Harry Sir?" said Dobby from the corner of his room, concern etched in his voice, but Harry did not hear him. With a sigh of utter despair, he turned to his bed, and collapsed onto it fully clothed, unable to bear the emotional weight of anything more for the time being.

Faykan was dead…

The sheer sense of loss had compounded for Harry when Professor Snape had taken him, Hermione, Draco, Ron, Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, Bill, and a small handful of the other teachers to the spare classroom that held the black, wooden coffin in which Faykan had been laid to rest.

Professor Snape had, in respect for Harry's wishes, left the casket closed, and together they had lamented the loss of the black haired boy. They had each, in turn, spoken a few words about Faykan and what they had knew about or learned from him, which turned out to be surprisingly little of the former and surprisingly much of the latter. Harry had never realized until now how completely his best friend had been concealing every detail about himself, probably in case of just this occasion, in case of his death.

When it had been Harry's turn to speak, he had not been able to fight off the wash of emotion. He fled, he ran as far from the room as he could, but the memories and the pain pursued him.

Faykan, slinking around corridors in his vulpine form, dodging from shadow to shadow.

Faykan, laughing as they crossed the grounds to a class.

Faykan, watching Harry fly on his Firebolt, despite not himself being overly fond of flying.

Harry only stopped running when he had found himself almost entering the Quidditch Pitch. He ducked under the stands, quickly arriving at the small, cramped corner where he had Faykan had been the most open to each other.

Astonishingly, Harry felt no sense of pain or loss or guilt here, here where he had seen Faykan at his happiest, and his most vulnerable. They had shared something together here that had solidified their relationship as it was meant to be, and here, Harry had felt a small, calming peace amidst the storm of emotion that raged about him at the death of his best friend.

He had hidden there for hours, until Hermione had found him, and brought him back to the school. The peace he had found there lasted him the rest of the two days before they had left Hogwarts. Then Nott had come to taunt him, and Harry lost control again, unlocking power he had never known he possessed.

If Harry had not still been reeling from his loss, he would have been excited about finally having full access to his magic, but thinking about it only brought more thoughts of Faykan. The boy had been so engrained into Harry's life; he didn't know how he would be able to go on with out him.

Then he knew.

His hatred would allow him to go on; vengeance was all there was left, vengeance against Voldemort.

Harry felt his magic writhe and boil in his veins as he thought about the one person he hated above anyone on the face of the earth. The war was coming, and thanks to Faykan, he was more prepared than anyone could imagine him to be, except for Hermione, Ron and Draco.

Suddenly, his grief was gone, banished behind a wall of determined anger. He would continue what Faykan started, he would train himself for the day Voldemort came for him, and he would if the past four years were any indication, and Harry would make certain he was as ready as he could be to face him.

"Dobby!" he called, summoning the house elf to him as he rose from the bed, eyes glinting in resolve, "I want you to go to Hogwarts, bring me every book that will help me with Defense Against the Dark Arts, Occlumency, Animagus Forms, and any books that contain powerful spells."

Dobby bowed low to him and vanished.

Faykan was dead… But through Harry, his memory would live on, and his purposes would be accomplished. Harry swore it.