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@@ -41,7 +41,7 @@
             <p>“Harry?” Dumbledore said softly.</p>
             <p>Harry shook himself, pulling himself back from his memories. He wasn’t surprised to find himself sobbing. He found himself doing that more often this past year, since he’d started travelling alone. He hadn’t wanted to worry Hermione, and it made Ron uncomfortable, though in the end he understood better. He took another deep breath to steady his voice. “You were right; someone with the Americans was feeding him information. The plan worked.”</p>
             <p>Since the collapse of the English Ministry, along with most of the European Ministries of Magic, the American Department of Magical Affairs deployed several divisions of their war-mages in an expeditionary force. Their commander was given orders to do whatever was necessary to ‘contain the situation’ and keep the Dark Lord East of the Atlantic. At first, the green troops were no match for the battle-hardened remnant of the Death Eaters. However, they learned quickly and were soon able to liberate the larger cities, though the cost was high. Diagon Alley was left a smoking ruin before the last Death Eater fell. The only thing the well-equipped Yanks couldn’t handle was Voldemort himself. Military-grade curses that should have turned him into charred meat either missed or had little to no effect. As the death toll mounted, Harry reluctantly made contact with Alexander Hastings, the American general, and explained the convoluted tale about his role in the war and the prophecy.</p>
-            <p>The Americans were helpful, and the relief they brought to his countrymen, Wizard and Muggle, was welcome – even if it came too late for most of the people Harry cared about. Unfortunately, as he continued to use the curse bond from his scar to search for Voldemort, his quarry had become more and more elusive. Their Occlumency and Legilimency duels were practically a nightly occurrence, almost always ending in a stalemate. Though Harry could get little more than glimpses of Voldemort’s surroundings, sometimes that was enough to make a guess about where he was located. The maddened wizard still struck, seemingly at random, but he always left before Harry could arrive. After raiding another of Voldemort’s bolt holes, which showed signs of having been vacated just minutes earlier, Harry and Albus began to wonder if there was a leak among the Americans.</p>
+            <p>The Americans were helpful, and the relief they brought to his countrymen, Wizard and Muggle, was welcome — even if it came too late for most of the people Harry cared about. Unfortunately, as he continued to use the curse bond from his scar to search for Voldemort, his quarry had become more and more elusive. Their Occlumency and Legilimency duels were practically a nightly occurrence, almost always ending in a stalemate. Though Harry could get little more than glimpses of Voldemort’s surroundings, sometimes that was enough to make a guess about where he was located. The maddened wizard still struck, seemingly at random, but he always left before Harry could arrive. After raiding another of Voldemort’s bolt holes, which showed signs of having been vacated just minutes earlier, Harry and Albus began to wonder if there was a leak among the Americans.</p>
             <p>The trap was crude, but effective. Harry, covered with blood and screaming in pain, Apparated into the American encampment. He talked deliriously, but quite loudly, about being injured by something in the dungeon of ruined Hogwarts. Once he was alone with the healer, he ruthlessly stunned the man and performed a memory charm. Harry had no idea who was giving information to Voldemort, so he wasn’t taking any chances.</p>
             <p>The rest of the encampment was treated to a loud argument between the head medical officer and a very stubborn Harry Potter. The latter walked out of the infirmary with a large bandage wrapped around his head, and swatches of gauze showed through the rents in his filthy robes. While the medi-wizard lectured him about brain trauma and depleted magical reserves, Harry yelled back that he’d found out that something crucial to ending the war was located near his parents’ house in Godric’s Hollow, and nothing would stop him from retrieving it now.</p>
             <p>Harry then Apparated to a location near Tom Riddle’s latest lair in Surrey. Ignoring his scar, Harry sent tendrils of Legilimency into the surrounding area. The gossamer thin wisps of mental energy detected the brooding malevolent intelligence that lurked within the townhouse. He sat quietly while the faint echo of smug superiority flared up and then completely disappeared. Harry quickly approached the now-empty building. The door was a solid mass of alarm and detection spells. Harry smiled grimly as he pulled out a set of picks. He remembered the long-dead twins showing him how to pick locks the Muggle way.</p>
@@ -50,7 +50,7 @@
             <p>“Don’t be,” it said. The lips curved into what Harry swore looked like a smirk. “That was really a clever plan. I still say you would have done well in Slytherin.”</p>
             <p>“Maybe so,” Harry agreed as he set the hat down and stepped back, raising his wand. “Thank you,” he whispered. Then he blasted the hat out of existence.</p>
             <p>Tom was still tearing into the ruins of the house where Harry had been born when the anti-apparition barrier suddenly went up. “Ah, Potter,” he drawled as the filthy muggle-lover appeared before him, “I was worried you’d gotten splinched trying to get here.” His eyes travelled from the wand clenched in Harry’s fist to the bulky bandage wrapped around the younger man’s head.</p>
-            <p>“Sorry,” Harry growled, “I had to make a stop in Surrey to talk to an old friend.” His arm snapped up and he snarled, “<em>Reducto!</em>”</p>
+            <p>“Sorry,” Harry growled, “I had to make a stop in Surrey to talk to an old friend.” His arm snapped up and he snarled, “<em>Reducto</em>!”</p>
             <p>Voldemort’s shield charm was cast with plenty of time, but the pillar of white light from Harry’s wand was blinding in its intensity. The curved wall of blue light fractured and Voldemort was forced back several steps. “You aren’t as enfeebled as I thought,” Voldemort sneered. “Good. I was hoping this wouldn’t be boring.”</p>
             <p>Despite his tone, Harry could tell his foe was shaken by the destruction of the last Horcrux. He pressed his advantage, forcing the Dark Lord to stumble backward as he battered at his defences.</p>
             <p>“It won’t do any good to kill me, you know,” Voldemort said as they crested a hill. “I’ve already won, I’ve killed everyone you care about, Harry. They all died for you, and there is nothing you can do to help them now.” He patted the Sword of Gryffindor on his belt. The Dark Lord couldn’t wield it, but it was a trophy from the Hogwarts Massacre.</p>
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             <p>It was over a month before Harry’s preparations were complete. He filled reams of scavenged parchment with equations and notes. He wasn’t sure if he’d have been able to finish the calculation without the headmaster’s aid. Fortunately, the Hogwarts dungeons were relatively undamaged, though the books were starting to draw dampness and go green with mould. Nevertheless, Harry found the materials and tools he needed to prepare the prisms that would define and maintain the temporal field.</p>
             <p>When taking a break or while eating meals, Harry talked to the headmaster’s portrait. They mainly talked about the past, and how things came to happen as they did. It was a bittersweet time for both of them. Harry had long ago forgiven the headmaster for the things he had and hadn’t done. For his part, death had also brought a note of humility to the Supreme Mugwump’s worldview. In the end, they had to agree that Albus had tried his best to make sure things worked out, even if it had ended badly. Now it would be Harry’s turn.</p>
-            <p>The grief that normally came from talking about long-lost friends was tempered by the fact that there was a small chance that he might see them again. Indeed, if he were mistaken in his assumptions, he’d suddenly find himself seeing a lot of people again – though he’d also have some serious explaining to do. When he looked at his options like that, Harry almost felt like he was in a ‘can’t lose’ situation. The only fate that truly frightened him was growing old alone in a world filled with despair and grief. Sharing that observation with Albus shocked him at first, but after a while he seemed to understand, and his assistance in Harry’s project became noticeably more enthusiastic.</p>
+            <p>The grief that normally came from talking about long-lost friends was tempered by the fact that there was a small chance that he might see them again. Indeed, if he were mistaken in his assumptions, he’d suddenly find himself seeing a lot of people again — though he’d also have some serious explaining to do. When he looked at his options like that, Harry almost felt like he was in a ‘can’t lose’ situation. The only fate that truly frightened him was growing old alone in a world filled with despair and grief. Sharing that observation with Albus shocked him at first, but after a while he seemed to understand, and his assistance in Harry’s project became noticeably more enthusiastic.</p>
             <p>After they quadruple-checked his calculations, Harry carefully and deliberately burned his notes, retaining only the final sheet with the precisely calculated prism layouts. They both agreed that this sort of magic was not something to leave lying around. Harry also wrote out a short note for General Hastings and pinned it to the sleeve of his robes.</p>
             <p>“Hastings may come to see you some day, Albus. He’s done all right by me. I suggested he may want to keep you around as a local advisor.”</p>
             <p>The headmaster’s portrait looked up at Harry curiously. The boy smiled faintly.</p>
@@ -163,11 +163,11 @@
         <div class="storyparagraph">
             <p>Number Four Privet Drive was exactly identical to the properties on either side and across the street, a fact that the Dursleys were intensely proud of. Of course, the fact that the houses were all burned-out ruins was something to be less happy about.</p>
             <p>As Harry poked through the rubble, he felt a guilty twinge of relief that the house was unrecognizable. He’d gone through some very bad times with his aunt’s family, and he needed no reminders of that now. Theoretically, the temporal transit should occur at roughly the same spatial coordinates. Harry’s plan had enough unknowns that he didn’t want to push his luck. So he wanted his spirit to appear in the past as close to his physical body as possible. With that in mind, he calculated his arrival for the middle of August, 1991. That far back, it was difficult to pick an exact day to arrive, and his Uncle’s panicked flight in July made it tricky to make sure his body would be near Privet drive when his spirit arrived. Harry would have liked to have gone a little farther back, but the temporal field would have required even more energy to establish, and he had to make sure he had enough magic left for one spell; one very powerful spell.</p>
-            <p>Harry found a relatively clear spot near the front door and next to the remains of the stairs. He cleared away bits of charred wood and began to set the prisms on the floor. As he positioned them, he used measuring charms to check the spacing and the angle of each one. He had to get this absolutely perfect the first time. The article suggested that even if the energy problem were solved, a ‘temporal’ charge was likely to accumulate during transit. This was why the farther back you wished to focus the temporal transit field, the more energy it required as well. If he didn’t do this right, there was no chance of trying it again – the energy build-up would be too great.</p>
+            <p>Harry found a relatively clear spot near the front door and next to the remains of the stairs. He cleared away bits of charred wood and began to set the prisms on the floor. As he positioned them, he used measuring charms to check the spacing and the angle of each one. He had to get this absolutely perfect the first time. The article suggested that even if the energy problem were solved, a ‘temporal’ charge was likely to accumulate during transit. This was why the farther back you wished to focus the temporal transit field, the more energy it required as well. If he didn’t do this right, there was no chance of trying it again — the energy build-up would be too great.</p>
             <p>Harry set the last prism in place and recast all the measuring charms. After re-checking everything with his chart, he lit that on fire as well. When the parchment was consumed, he pointed his wand at each prism in order and cast the energizing charm. As each prism began to glow, adjacent crystal wedges were joined with threads of light. When all the crystals were charged, an elongated hemisphere sprang up around Harry. He peered closely at the three-ply fields that enclosed him. The first and third fields formed a barrier that kept the air away from the second field. The modified bubblehead charm worked perfectly; otherwise the transit field would have collapsed from trying to send a random atom of atmosphere nineteen years into the past.</p>
             <p>Harry took a deep breath as a deep weariness set into his bones. There was only one spell left to do, and then it would all be over. He set the tip of his wand between his eyes and thought of Ginny. Her memory had kept him from doing that after he lost her… now he would do this to get her back.</p>
             <p>Harry pushed aside that thought and focused on how many people he’d lost over the years, how many he’d let die. The spell required true hate to cast. Fortunately, Harry had more than enough self loathing.</p>
-            <p>“<em>Avada Kedavra!</em>”</p>
+            <p>“<em>Avada Kedavra</em>!”</p>
             <p>As the blinding green light swept over his eyes, Harry Potter heard a rushing sound and knew no more.</p>
             <p>Sometimes when the body knows death is imminent, it will react reflexively, even if it is useless. Struck by the spell, Harry’s back arched, throwing his arm wide. His wand, holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, flew from his slack fingers. The instant the tumbling wood struck the glowing barrier it collapsed the field…</p>
             <p>…and Harry James Potter, the Boy Who Lived, fell to the ground, dead.</p>

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@@ -49,9 +49,6 @@
             <p>Tired as he was, he still couldn’t get to sleep immediately. He’d been so light-headed from getting knocked around that he couldn’t remember dreaming last night. Tonight, he was sure the nightmares would return, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep quiet. Instead of sleeping, he lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Later on he could hear angry voices coming from the master bedroom. It sounded like his aunt and uncle were having a terrible row, but he couldn’t imagine why.</p>
             <p>When he heard his uncle’s voice roaring something about “bloody James Potter”, Harry’s blood went cold. Had his uncle heard what he’d said to Aunt Petunia last August? Was that why the two of them were out for his blood now?</p>
             <p>Eventually he drifted off around midnight. By some miracle, when he woke up around four, he managed to not cry out. He squeezed his hands into fists so tight his knuckles shone white like bare bone. He was walking through the shattered courtyard at Hogwarts, finding his friends, finding Ginny again. He supposed the dream was triggered by him missing Hogwarts, but that didn’t make it any easier.</p>
-        </div>
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-        <div class="storyparagraph">
             <p>Harry spent most of the next four weeks in much the same fashion. He didn’t receive any letters, but he wasn’t as disturbed this time around. Dobby was just up to his old tricks – trying to keep Harry safe by making him think none of his Hogwarts friends cared enough to send a letter. Instead of worrying, Harry just carefully thought through what he wanted to say when the house elf finally made an appearance. He knew that fear of him using magic was one of the few things restraining his uncle. He could not chance Dobby triggering a warning from the Ministry.</p>
             <p>On the morning of his birthday, Harry didn’t even care that the Dursleys hadn’t remembered. After all that had happened, he couldn’t care less what the poster-children for reintroducing Muggle-hunting thought of him. He just hoped that the Weasley boys would take the initiative like they’d done last time. Still, it was better to keep his head down until then. So he stayed well clear of Vernon’s frantic preparations for the dinner party with the Masons. When he caught Dobby peering at him from the hedge, Harry just ignored him.</p>
             <p>“I know what day it is,” Dudley sang, waddling up behind him.</p>
@@ -65,9 +62,6 @@
             <p>“I’m going to tell mum!” Dudley threatened.</p>
             <p>“You do that, Dudley. And then she’ll punish me and prove me right. Will that make you feel better about yourself?”</p>
             <p>Dudley glared at him and stomped off. But Harry didn’t hear his aunt start screaming at him.</p>
-        </div>
-
-        <div class="storyparagraph">
             <p>As the sun set, he ducked into the kitchen and ate the cheese sandwich his aunt allowed him. His mouth watered as he smelled the pork roast sizzling in the oven, but he ignored the grumbling of his stomach.</p>
             <p>Sure enough, Dobby was standing on his bed when he opened his bedroom door.</p>
             <p>“Hello Dobby,” Harry said. He smiled as the elf’s bulging eyes got even wider. He figured a little showing off wouldn’t hurt here, and might make it easier to convince the well-meaning house elf to stop interfering.</p>
@@ -113,7 +107,7 @@
             <p>Harry felt a hard foot slam into his stomach, lifting him from the ground.</p>
             <p>“You try to do anything now, they’ll expel you from that school.”</p>
             <p>Something struck the side of his neck and a hot pain seared down his side. Harry wondered when the blows would stop.</p>
-            <p>“I’ll show you what happens when you interfere in <em>my</em> business.”</p>
+            <p>“I’ll show you what happens when you interfere in <em>MY</em> business.”</p>
             <p>Harry saw the next kick heading for his face and tried to block it. For some reason his body wouldn’t move right and his left arm flopped weakly in front of him. Vernon’s foot snapped a bone in his forearm and drove Harry’s already injured hand into his face.</p>
             <p><em>I don’t think he’s going to stop,</em> was Harry’s last coherent thought.</p>
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