Harry couldn't believe it when he realized two months had already passed. Their classes had gradually gotten harder and more enjoyable, moving onto the more interesting side of things, although it did mean more homework as well. Even Quidditch had gotten better, training sessions were now longer and rougher; Marcus was training them into the ground, he was sore and tired most nights, barely able to get up in the morning. Yet he was the happiest he could remember, other than when he got adopted officially. The castle had became his home just like his Father said it had been for him in his schooling years. Although unlike his Father, Harry found himself missing his family. He missed how his Mother insisted he wasn't too young for cuddles before bed, she allowed him to grumble and groan pretending he was too old for it when he truly loved it, after the Dursley’s and the orphanage he cherished every moment with her. He missed how she would take him riding on the horses and how she would be a truly caring and loving mother when they were away from the outside world and she could drop the pureblood mask.