Albus and Harry's World Trip

By: ZebJeb

Fandom: harry potter

Summary: After defeating the basilisk, Harry is expelled for his efforts. Dumbledore was unable to get his job back as Headmaster. The two set off on a trip together around the world, where Harry will discover the benefits of being the only student of a brilliant former Headmaster who no longer feels the need to avoid sharing information.

Fic type: Books/Harry Potter

Additional infos: Humor/Adventure - Harry P., Albus D.

Published: 2019-09-15

Last updated: 2022-04-16

Words count: 133,641

Chapters count: 23

Converted using www.FF2EBOOK.com
Date: 2022-04-17

1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR NOTE – This starts right after the defeat of the basilisk in Book 2. This is intended to be a continuing story.

Harry Potter was dying. He had accepted that fact. He knew that he was likely going to die when he decided to come down to the Chamber of Secrets to save Ginny Weasley and was at peace with the reality that he was presented with. He wished he would have been able to save the poor girl, but Riddle (the memory of a teenage Voldemort) was still draining her life force. At least Harry had defeated the basilisk and protected the school. It was a Pyrrhic victory, as the serpent had managed to break off a venom infused fang into Harry's arm. And now, in death, the basilisk was finishing him off.

As Riddle bragged and Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes, began to cry sadly on Harry's wound, Harry wondered if it had been worth it. He had saved the children of the school, but he felt no real joy about that. Intellectually, he knew it was a good thing. But, in his heart he could hardly bring himself to care about the school full of children who thought he was a Dark Lord in training.

Ever since that fateful day where, during a dueling club, he revealed himself to be a Parselmouth, the school had turned on him. For some reason he could not fathom, people believed that holding a conversation with a snake means you are evil. He supposed it was eeeeevil to discover that a snake wanted to go to Brazil.

At first, he had been happy that his friends were sticking with him. Hermione, Ron, and the Weasley twins were all treating him like normal. It had made it bearable, until one day when he had decided to relax under his invisibility cloak, and he overheard Hermione whispering to Ron and the twins.

"No, I looked through the books, and they are very clear. Being a Parselmouth is not just a sign of possibly being a Dark Wizard, it is a sign of DEFINITELY being a Dark Wizard! I don't want it to be true, but we have to accept that Harry is the one attacking the school."

Ron and the twins (raised up with the standard prejudices of the British magical world) agreed with Hermione and resolved that it was safest to pretend that they believed in Harry. After all, Harry only seemed to be attacking those who had crossed him and wanted people to think he was innocent. They just needed to avoid making themselves a target.

The year moved forward, with his friends going through the motions of helping Harry find the "real culprit". Hermione finished her Polyjuice Potion and they snuck into the Slytherin dorms as Crabbe and Goyle, only proving that Malfoy was innocent. Harry shared his experience with Riddle's diary saying that the Chamber had been opened five decades previously (the diary had not revealed its evil intentions at that time). And finally, Hermione was petrified.

Once Hermione had been petrified, the Weasleys must have decided that it was safest to keep their distance. Ron and the twins kept finding excuses for not helping Harry. As such, Harry was alone when he snuck down to Hagrid's hut and watched the gentle groundskeeper be sent to Azkaban without a trial. He looked on numbly, as Lucius Malfoy smugly informed Dumbledore that he had been removed as Headmaster. He was alone when he followed the spiders and met Hagrid's murderous monster spider friend named Aragog. Luckily, he had been saved by the Weasley's self-aware car. He was in the common room when he discovered that someone had been taken into the Chamber of Secrets, and saw the suspicious looks shot towards him. He had a moment of inspiration, grabbed his invisibility cloak, and went to talk to Moaning Myrtle in desperation. And so, he was alone when he discovered the entrance to the Chamber, he was alone when he entered the Chamber, he was alone when he confronted Riddle and the basilisk (Ginny's unconscious form didn't count as company), and he was alone as he lay there dying.

Growing up, he had felt alone with the Dursleys. He worked for them, without thanks or regard to his health or happiness. He was made to feel unwelcome, and he had grown to hate living there.

Since that dueling club, he was once more alone. Here he was working to save the lives of the students of Hogwarts, even though he would never be thanked. They certainly had proven they had no regard for his health or happiness. This year, they had made it clear that he was unwelcome at the school. He didn't believe it would ever be possible, but he somewhat had grown to hate attending Hogwarts.

Damn it! He was dying, and it just hadn't been worth it!

Was he dying? Because he was feeling better.

Harry tuned into Riddle's monologue again, to hear him yelling at Fawkes. Apparently, the phoenix tears had healing properties. Harry looked at Fawkes with deep fondness. At least he wasn't completely alone.

"Thanks Fawkes"

Fawkes preened and cooed.

Riddle shot a spell at the Phoenix, which made it fly away. Harry stared into the livid face of Voldemort's memory, wand pointing directly at Harry's heart.

"Dumbledore's phoenix may have bought you a couple minutes, Harry Potter, but that just gives me the joy of having you die by my own hand."

Suddenly, Riddle's diary landed in Harry's lap. He looked up briefly at Fawkes and back at the diary. For a frozen moment, both Harry and Riddle stared at the object. Harry's eyes glanced to the side and saw the basilisk fang that had broken off in his arm, now lying on the ground next to him.

Wanting to do something, anything at all, Harry dropped the diary on the ground, grabbed the fang, and raised it up over the diary. As he began to thrust the fang down towards the diary, he heard Riddle scream.

"NO! Avada Kedavra!"

Harry didn't know what the spell was. All he knew was the last syllable was spoken as the fang punctured the diary. The green light of the spell collided with him when the fang had completed its impalement of the diary.

Harry looked around in confusion. He had been in the Chamber of Secrets. He had been in incredible pain. And now he was… where was he?

As he looked around, he realized that he was standing in the Gryffindor common room. The room was cleaner than he had ever seen, the colors of the furniture were crisper, the portraits were gone. The room was silent except for a fire crackling merrily in the corner. Looking toward the fire, he saw a pitiful creature unsuccessfully attempting to crawl away from the fire. It looked almost like a small child that had been horribly maimed.

Before he could make his way over to the creature, he heard a voice. A voice that his conscious mind didn't recognize, but his subconscious knew immediately.

"Hello, sweetheart"

Turning around, he immediately forgot about the creature.

"Mom?"

His mother opened her arms wide, and Harry ran to her. When they met, he hugged her with a tightness fueled by fierce desperation. He inhaled deeply, and a primal part of his brain recognized the scent as belonging to his mother. Impressions burned into his young brain over the first 15 months of his life rushed into his conscious mind, confirming that this was indeed Lily Potter. He was being hugged by his mother! Harry cried.

He didn't know how long it took before he finally gained some control of himself. It might have been minutes or years. He had simply let loose with all his suppressed emotions. He relived every moment where he had craved his mother's touch or soothing voice, every night spent alone in his cupboard, every abuse from the Dursleys, every class with Snape, every day he was accused of being evil, and every previously forgotten moment of pain or degradation. He sobbed into his mother's chest as she rubbed his back and cooed reassuring words. As he relived each moment, her comforting presence drained away the raw pain. When his tears stopped coming, he felt a sense of profound peace.

Without looking up from her body, he spoke.

"I missed you mom"

"I missed you to my special boy"

Harry smiled and paused to luxuriate in the feel of his mother's love. Eventually he spoke the words he had been hesitant to express.

"Am I… dead?"

"A little"

Harry finally looked up into his mother's caring eyes. He could finally understand what people meant when they said he had her eyes.

"What does that mean?"

She smiled and led him to sit down with her on the single couch in the room.

"Look at the doors in this room, Harry. Where do they lead?"

Harry, loving hearing his name spoken by his mother, looked around. There were two doors in the room.

"That one leads up to my dorm, and that one leads to the castle."

Lily nodded. "That's right. How do they make you feel?"

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion. "My dorm makes me feel… I don't know. I know the castle makes me feel nervous, because I that's where I'm forced to deal with everyone out there. So… my dorm makes me feel like I have a place where I can have some peace… and that's what I'm here in the common room, isn't it? I'm between life and death. The castle represents life and all its frustrations, while my dorm represents the peace of eternal rest. Am I right?"

Lily smiled. "That's right, sweetheart. It's your choice on where you go. Though, I would prefer you return to life."

Harry sighed. "Even in death, I can't be normal."

Lily laughed lightly, a sound that Harry would love to bottle somehow. "Oh, Harry, my dear child, you will never be normal."

Harry looked away in annoyance. "I know, because I'm the Boy-Who-Lived."

Lily touched his face gently, directing him to look into her eyes. "No, you will never be normal, because you are my son! No one else can ever make the claim of being the child of Lily Potter. You are Harry James Potter, and that alone makes you special. If Voldemort had never attacked us, you would still be special. Lily Potter does not have normal children, and that's the end of the story!"

Harry looked at her mirthful smile, and chuckled. "You're just saying that. You're my mom, you have to think I'm special."

Lily smiled brightly. "Perhaps… I might be a bit biased. But, if you were 'normal', we wouldn't be able to talk right now. Is that what you really want?"

Harry hugged her tightly. "No!"

After some time passed, where Lily gently rubbed her son's back and stroked his hair, Harry broke away from the hug. He then looked over at the deformed figure near the fireplace.

"What is that?"

"I can't tell you."

Harry looked at his mother in confusion.

"Why not?"

Lily sighed. "It's the rules here. I can only tell you what you already know, either consciously or subconsciously. I can't tell you what you don't know."

Harry looked unconvinced.

"Fine, I'll tell you what it is. It's…"

As Lily spoke, her words instantly became indistinct mumbles and she visually became blurry. Just as suddenly, the blurriness stopped, and her words became clear.

"… and that's the complete truth. Did that help you?"

Harry spoke reluctantly. "OK. I get it. So… how do I know if this is real or just a hallucination?"

Lily smiled. "I can't tell you that. Does it really matter?"

Harry laughed and relaxed into his mother's arms. "It might matter, but I don't care. So, we should probably talk about something where I don't really know what my subconscious is thinking, huh? Well, I guess the first thing I want to know is… what should I do about my friends?"

Harry and Lily talked for an indeterminate amount of time, until Harry was ready to take on the struggles of living again. Hallucination or not, he knew that his mother would want him to strive for a happy life and that was what he would aim for from this point forward. Survival was no longer enough. With that last thought, a much calmer Harry Potter opened the door leading to the castle.

Harry opened his eyes. He was lying on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets. He heard a tormented scream to his left. He looked over in time to see Tom Riddle writhing in agony, and then fading away. He looked over to the diary. It was covered in black ink, with the basilisk fang still firmly impaling it. A slight hissing sound still coming from where the venom was interacting with pages of the book.

He removed the fang, tossing it aside, while picking up the diary and stuffing it in a pocket (after waiting for the hissing to stop). He marveled at the fact that almost no time had passed while he was talking to his mom. He also felt immensely happy that he still felt the same sense of peace he had achieved before leaving that midway point between life and death. Though, he could have done without feeling the aches and pains, as they were quite severe after fighting a fifty-foot serpent.

A sudden loud gasp from behind reminded him about Ginny. It appeared he had managed to save the girl after all.

After calming her down (she was certain she was going to be expelled), Harry gathered the Sword of Gryffindor and the duo made their way to the exit. Fawkes was kind enough to fly them up to the girl's lavatory where the castle's entrance to the Chamber was located.

The pair followed Fawkes as he flew in front of them, leading them to the Headmaster's office. The statue moved aside, and they made their way up the circular staircase. They opened the door and walked in to see McGonagall, Dumbledore, Fred, George, Ron, Percy, Mr. Weasley, and Mrs. Weasley. McGonagall sat behind the desk, Dumbledore near to the Weasleys, and the Weasley family were huddled together crying.

It was McGonagall who was the first to notice the new arrivals. "Mister Potter? Miss Weasley!?"

It seemed like the entire Weasley family apparated, as they were almost immediately surrounding Ginny while her parents hugged her at a strength just below being too tight to breathe. Harry was noticeably excluded from the family reunion. Dumbledore conjured a seat for Harry and Ginny, and a grateful Harry sat down next to the Headmaster.

Dumbledore spoke gently. "It is wonderful to see you my boy, and Miss Weasley, I am pleased to see you alive and well. Might you be able to tell us how you managed to make your way to this office?"

Ginny hugged her mother tightly and began to cry, unable to speak.

Harry heard Ron quietly mutter under his breath, "Potter probably decided not to follow through on his threat". He wasn't sure who had heard it, as no one responded to defend him. Though, he did see Dumbledore frown in disappointment.

Harry remembered the peace he felt with his mother and used it to avoid getting riled up by Ron's comment. He then told the occupants of the room all about his last few weeks. He mainly wanted to let Ron know what had happened, so he started from the moment he found out Hermione had petrified (and thusly shunned by the Weasley family). The audience was riveted. They were horrified at the reveal of the diary belonging to Voldemort, and his possession of Ginny's body. They were aghast at the story of the fight with basilisk. The adults and Percy gasped when Harry mentioned being hit by the Avada Kedavra curse (excluding Dumbledore, who widened his eyes, stared at Harry's scar, and smiled). Harry excluded his conversation with his mother from the story (it was too personal), he just said he was knocked out and woke up a second or two later. With that, the story was wrapped up with the journey up to the office.

At the end of the story, there was silence as people processed what was said. The silence was broken by Ginny.

"Am I going to be expelled?" Ginny asked in a watery and scared voice.

McGonagall smiled at Ginny. "No, Miss Weasley. You have been through more than enough. You were the victim of a cursed item, cursed by You-Know-Who no less, so you need not fear. Why don't you and your family head to the Hospital Wing and get yourself cared for by Madame Pomphrey."

A happy and relieved Weasley family made their way out of the office (not even one of them pausing to thank Harry). Once the door was closed, it was just Harry, Dumbledore, and McGonagall. Harry looked at McGonagall with some confusion.

"Professor… why are you sitting behind the Headmaster's desk?"

McGonagall looked over at Dumbledore, and then back at Harry.

"As you are aware, Professor Dumbledore was removed from his position by the Board. They have not changed their minds. Professor Dumbledore is only here by specific request of the Weasley family."

Harry's eyes widened in shock, as McGonagall kept talking.

"That said, I need to address your story, Mister Potter. By your own admission, you have broken countless school rules in the past few weeks. You have been out after curfew, snuck into the Forbidden Forest, and didn't get a professor when you discovered the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. It is by pure luck alone that you and Miss Weasley are alive. Miss Weasley was possessed by a cursed diary, and her rule breaking can be excused. What is your excuse for your flagrant violation of the rules?"

Harry focused on his memories of his mother to remain calm. He did not feel it would help much to say that he didn't trust the competence of the staff. "I was just trying to help".

McGonagall sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I do know that Mister Potter. I am also grateful that you both survived and saved Miss Weasley. However, you leave me in an uncomfortable situation. At the beginning of this year, you were warned, along with Mister Weasley, that if you stepped out of line even one more time… you would be expelled."

Dumbledore spoke up. "Minerva, surely you can't be suggesting that…"

"I am!" McGonagall cut off Dumbledore. "Albus, if you had managed to get your position back, then you would be free to ignore the flagrant violation of the rules. But, with the current political realities of the Board, and the fact that Mister Potter did not even bother to send for assistance after discovering the Chamber's entrance… I am sorry Mister Potter, but you are hereby expelled from Hogwarts."

Harry gaped uncomprehendingly at McGonagall.

For her part, she looked contrite. "I'm sorry, Harry. I truly am. Now, I will need you to hand me your wand so that I may snap it in half."

Harry's eyes widened in fear. "What!?"

Dumbledore put up his hand to forestall McGonagall's response.

"One moment, Minerva. Harry, my boy, how would you like to hire an ex-Headmaster of Hogwarts as your personal tutor? I'll work for one Galleon a year."

Harry looked at Dumbledore in confusion. "What?"

Dumbledore nodded sagely. "Of course, you are right. I haven't taught a student directly in decades. That does deserve a discount. I'll lower my fee down to one Sickle a year. What do you say?"

"One Sickle?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Playing the fame card, I see. Very clever, Harry. You are a shrewd negotiator. Having the famous Harry Potter as a personal student would do wonders for my career if I ever wish to tutor someone else. I can go as low as one Knut a year, and that's it. Obviously, if you hire me, you won't have your wand snapped and will be able to continue to learn magic away from Hogwarts. Do we have a deal?"

Harry smiled. "I guess we have a deal… as long as I can end your employment whenever I want if things don't work out?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in delight. "Of course, that only makes sense."

"Wait!" shouted an irate McGonagall. "Albus, I appreciate what you are doing, but Mister Potter can't just hire you to be his new teacher. He needs his guardians' permission. And I am sure he won't get that."

Dumbledore's smile did not fade. "Ah, but you forget that Harry's guardians declined his invitation to attend Hogwarts. Based on one of the Muggleborn protection laws passed a decade ago, if a magical child does not have magical guardians, then those muggle guardians give up the rights to have a say in the child's magical education if they choose to provide no magical education at all. At that point, the decision-making authority is handed to the child. It was Harry's legal right to accept the invitation to Hogwarts. Of course, once he started her, Harry lost the right to quit Hogwarts until the age of 17. But, with you expelling him, Harry now has the right to choose the next step in his magical education. He has chosen me. Since he has an adult hired to teach him magic, he still maintains his wand rights."

McGonagall stared at Dumbledore with a mingled look of irritation and amusement. "I remember you were the one to write that law. Did you write it specifically for a case like this happening with Mister Potter?"

Dumbledore looked at McGonagall with a disappointed look. "Minerva, I wrote that law with the intention of ensuring Muggleborn students received a magical education if they wanted one."

McGonagall rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say Albus. I am heading over to the Hospital Wing. I trust you can pack up your possessions along with Mister Potter's possessions?"

"Of course, Minerva, of course".

Harry sat quietly for several minutes after McGonagall left the office. Dumbledore whistled a jaunty tune as he swirled his wand around in the air. Thousands of items twirled through the air, as decades worth of possessions were packed away in newly conjured trunks.

"Professor…"

"Call me Albus, my boy. No need to be so formal anymore". Albus lowered his wand as he sat down next to Harry. The remaining items finished twirling through the air and landed in their appropriate trunks. The room looked eerie, being so bare.

"OK… Albus. Did you write that Muggleborn Protection law with me in mind?"

Harry wasn't sure what to expect as a response. He suspected he would be told a half truth, or perhaps that he was too young to understand such things.

Albus put his hand reassuringly onto Harry's shoulder. "Harry, my dear boy, I wrote that law specifically with you in mind."

"What!?"

"Well, I could hardly rely on the Dursleys to allow you to attend Hogwarts. And I certainly didn't want to give you the option to leave Hogwarts once you started. Your magical education is vital. Also, I wanted to provide an obscure loophole to exploit in case you ever were expelled for absurd reasons and I needed to provide you with a new tutor. Of course, it does help some Muggleborn students, so that is a nice bonus. I'm done here, you ready to get packed up?"

Harry sat there, stunned. Albus wrote a quick letter, gave it to Fawkes, and the phoenix disappeared in a flash of flame.

As Harry's brain tried to handle the latest twist on the evening, Lucius Malfoy stormed into the room. He clearly had rushed out in the middle of the night, as he was slightly disheveled and had a House Elf trying to polish his shoes while he walked.

"So… despite being dismissed by the Board of Governors, you decide to return anyway? The rules don't apply to…"

Albus looked at Lucius with disinterest and interrupted the man before he could gain a full head of steam. "Lucius, do calm down. As you can see, I have packed my possessions. Your combination of threatening and bribing the members of the Board has done the trick. I suspect, had they just been threatened, I could have convinced them to overturn the decision. I could probably still do it, even now, but I find I no longer care that greatly about the job. So, you have won. Congratulations."

Lucius looked flabbergasted. "Well… I am glad you have seen reason. As for the accusation of bribing the…"

Albus interrupted the man again. "You should be happy to know that the problem with the Chamber of Secrets has been resolved. Harry here has killed the beast and saved the girl. It was all quite heroic and dramatic. He has been, of course, rewarded with expulsion from the school. No good deed goes unpunished, after all. The young girl was being possessed by Lord Voldemort's cursed school diary, which has been destroyed."

Albus held up the destroyed diary, watching Lucius's face pale in response.

"Ah, I see that you were the one who supplied the diary to the young girl."

Lucius reared back, as if he had been slapped. "You have no proof that I did any such thing!"

"Yes, I am sure your master will buy that unconvincing lie as well. I tell you what, we can discuss this further next week. I'll visit your house at 1AM on June 6th. Don't wait up for me, I will wake you when I arrive. Come along Harry, let's get you packed."

Harry chased after Albus, a parade of fully packed trunks following them diligently. Lucius Malfoy stood silently in the empty office, working his jaw silently.

They were halfway to the entrance of Gryffindor tower before Harry realized that the shoe-shining elf was Dobby.

After quickly packing his possessions and the Sword of Gryffindor, ensuring they were all accounted for, Harry and Albus walked out of the castle and towards the school gates. Along the way, Harry brought up a concern he had.

"Profess… Albus, when I was hit by the killing curse, I… dreamt I was in Gryffindor tower and there was an ugly baby thing near the fireplace. Also, my scar appears to be less inflamed… do you have any ideas about what that means?"

Albus looked over at Harry, stared at his scar, and then grinned broadly.

"Harry, my boy, you need not share what happened to you in the midpoint between life and death. I would be fascinated to hear the story when you feel comfortable, but that is up to you. As for the baby… if I wasn't certain what your scar's size reduction meant, I would have continued pulling political strings to keep us both at Hogwarts. Your scar was a connection to Tom. The connection is dead, and so I can now safely start training you in the really interesting magics."

Harry looked relieved and confused. "The connection is dead? That's sounds good, but… what was up with the ugly baby thing?"

They crossed through the gates of Hogwarts, passing the edge of the wards. There, they met a troupe of goblins heading towards the gates. Albus smiled and spoke to them in Gobbledegook (the native language of the goblins), pointing at Harry and then at the castle. After he handed them a quill, the goblins laughed, one waved at Harry, and then they all marched towards the castle.

"Albus, what was that about?"

"Hmmm? Oh, I had Fawkes deliver a letter to them while we were in my former office. They are going to collect the basilisk carcass so it can be properly rendered for your profit. The quill is a portkey they can take to leave the grounds. They agreed to do the initial work for a flat fee, with the promise that both you and they will negotiate in good faith over the final deal."

Harry was shocked. He hadn't even thought of that possibility.

"Doesn't the basilisk belong to the school?"

"That is a legally murky question. You were a student when you defeated the beast, but you were expelled for your efforts. As a student, you would be limited to a reward of points or a special award like Tom got fifty years ago. By expelling you, a case could be made that Minerva acknowledged you as a third party who was implicitly hired for the purposes of killing the basilisk. Since you were unpaid, the carcass is implicitly yours."

Harry stared at Albus with a suspicious look.

"That sounds like a load of dragon dung"

Albus chuckled. "Of course, it is! Part of your tutelage will be learning how to speak like a politician, and I might as well start now. The truth is, we are taking the carcass before they realize there is an opportunity, and then will follow the ancient law of 'Finders Keepers, Losers Weepers'".

Harry laughed, smiling with a sense that his future was looking up.

Albus placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, looking into the young man's green eyes.

"As for that ugly baby thing. That was the same thing as Riddle. Your scar, like the diary, was a horcrux."

Harry looked up in confusion. "What the hell is a horcrux?"

Albus smiled, Harry felt squeezed, and the pair disappeared from the spot without even the faintest of sounds to accompany the disapparation.

2. Chapter 2

Harry awoke with a start early the next morning in a strange bed. Looking around, he noticed that Albus was sleeping in a comfy chair in the corner, Fawkes and Hedwig were cuddled together on a bird stand next to Albus's chair. The events of the previous evening slowly came back to him. Ginny's kidnapping, finding the Chamber, fighting the basilisk, dying, talking to his mom, resurrecting, being expelled, taking on Albus as a tutor… expelled!?

Harry involuntarily shouted a loud expletive. Well, his mouth opened, and his vocal cords vibrated appropriately. But no sound was made.

"I don't know about your beautiful owl" spoke Albus, though his eyes never opened, "but I know from extremely painful experience that it is very foolish to startle Fawkes from a deep slumber. He can be very… cranky. Signal me when you are done with your tirade, and I'll lift the silencing spell."

Harry smiled. Honestly, he had only felt the need to curse the one time. But since he had the chance…

Ten minutes later, he waved his hand towards an apparently asleep Albus. The man didn't respond. Harry grunted experimentally and noticed he could now hear himself.

"Thank you, Prof… Albus. Where are we?"

"I'm hoping you feel better getting that out of your system. We are currently at Saint Mungo's Hospital. I brought you here from Hogwarts to have you checked out. You did get bit by a basilisk and died for a bit, so it seemed like a reasonable precaution to have a medical profession provide a cursory examination at the minimum. The stress of the apparition was a bit too much for you, I fear, so you passed out when we arrived. Now, since you're hearing this, I am still asleep. Feel free to stand up and wander the room, but please be quiet and let me rest a while longer."

Harry stared at the sleeping old man and chuckled silently. Looking around the room, he realized there wasn't much to see, so he relaxed into his bed. He dwelled on his memory of talking with his mother, his heart filling with a sense of peace, and slowly drifted back to sleep.

A few hours later, Harry awoke gently. He felt more rested than he had in months. Looking around, he saw that Fawkes was wide awake, while Hedwig dozed on a new bird stand next to his bed. Albus sat at his chair, reading a newspaper which he held upside down.

"Good morning Harry. How are you feeling this morning?"

"Much better. Though, it was odd dealing with your… what do you call that thing you used to answer me while you were asleep?"

Albus put down his newspaper, to give Harry his full attention. "It's the magical equivalent of a non-magical answering service. I invented it a while back so that I could get some rest in the repetitive meetings one must attend as a Headmaster. It's set up to respond based on what people say. If they say something that can't be handled automatically, it sends a jolt that wakes me up so I can respond appropriately. Pleasantly, since your arrival at Hogwarts, I have rarely needed to be awake for a meeting with Severus, as it always 'Potter blah blah Gryffindor blah blah Potter blah blah Potter'. Hmmm. With your departure, I wonder what he will find to fill his conversational void."

"Ignoring Snape for the moment, you ended a silencing spell on me. How did you cast magic while asleep?"

Albus grinned. "Excellent Harry!"

"What?"

"You didn't say it was impossible to cast magic while asleep. Just remember, nothing is impossible when it comes to magic, there is just that which has yet to be achieved. As for the sleep-casting, that will be a later lesson. For now, just think on it and see if you can figure it out on your own."

Harry nodded slowly. He would wait and see if Albus would follow through on his promises to truly teach.

"OK. So, how long do I need to stay here?"

"You're free to go whenever you are ready. The healers provided you with some basic healing last night but found nothing wrong that couldn't be solved by rest and a good diet. Are you ready now?"

Harry stood and stretched. "Let me use the loo, and I'll be ready."

Albus smiled. "Feel free to use the shower while you are in there. I'll clean up here, take care of the paperwork, send Fawkes and Hedwig on to my residence, and we'll be prepared to head on off. I'm thinking we can have a nice breakfast, then make you a large fortune off the basilisk carcass, and finally end the day's activities with causing light psychological damage to be inflicted upon the Dursleys."

Harry couldn't help but whistle a happy tune as he took a languid shower.

After an excellent meal at a non-magical restaurant, where Harry ate in silent contemplation, Albus took them to a small village that Harry did not recognize. As they walked down the street, Harry was surprised to note that village was primarily populated by goblins.

"Albus, where are we?"

"Well, Harry, based on the residents you've seen, I'm sure you would easily guess that the village's name is a word in Gobbledegook. Am I correct in assuming you cannot speak the language?"

"Yes sir"

"Ah, in that case, then allow me to teach your first words in Gobbledegook."

Over the next ten minutes, Harry practiced reciting a string of rough guttural sounds. Harry was pleased by his progress, as the few goblins he passed smiled in response to his attempts.

"Excellent, Harry. When we meet my contact, bow and say, 'Thank you for welcoming me to' and then repeat what I taught you."

Harry nodded, as they stopped in front of a building that smelled strongly of death and beasts. Albus conjured a bench near the door and indicated for Harry to join him. Harry sat down, wondering why they were waiting outside the building.

"How are you feeling Harry? Do you feel well rested, fed, and mentally relaxed?"

Harry looked sideways at Albus with curiosity. "Yes, I feel fine. Why?"

Albus sighed and looked straight forward towards the horizon. "I am sure you are aware of this, but fear tends to bring out the worst in people. When the students and staff were afraid being petrified themselves, they needed to blame someone and being a Parselmouth made you a convenient scapegoat. When you disappeared shortly after Miss Weasley, Minerva was terrified that she now had two student deaths on her hands. When you appeared, she became irrationally angry at you for making her feel that fear. It was reminiscent of times I have heard parents say, 'My child better be dead or injured, or I will kill him myself for making me worry'. Of course, it didn't help that your body language put her on the defensive by making it clear that you didn't seek help because you had no faith in the staff's ability to provide said help."

Harry's jaw tensed. "Is that supposed to excuse their behavior?"

Albus shrugged. "I am simply explaining the behavior, it is your choice to decide if the explanation excuses the behavior to your satisfaction. What I primarily wanted to tell you is that when the danger passes, the fear haze will lift, and people will find themselves thinking clearly again. A fair number of people will look back on their actions with shame and regret. While I don't know if your friend Ronald will repent, I do know that Minerva will have started regretting her actions within five minutes of arising this morning."

"Good! They should regret what they did to me! What is your point?"

"I could take you back to Hogwarts right this moment, and Minerva would certainly rescind your expulsion immediately. I could then press the Board and be reinstated within two days."

Harry paused. He felt somewhat tempted, it was Hogwarts… but what was Hogwarts? It was where he had made his first friends, but they really weren't great friends anymore. It was where he could connect with magical people, but he somewhat hated the people in the castle. It was where he could learn magic, but Albus was offering to let him continue learning. What should he do?

Harry spoke tentatively. "Are you having second thoughts about quitting Hogwarts and being my tutor?"

Albus chuckled. "Not at all. I am quite excited to venture on this journey with you and would prefer to do so."

"If that is what you want, then why even give me the choice?"

Albus paused and closed his eyes for a moment. After several seconds and a deep breath, he opened his eyes and answered.

"I could tell you that it is your choice, and it is only right that I let you make it. That is a portion of the truth, and it sounds reasonable. Another part of the truth is that a twelve-year-old is not often given the chance to make big life choices, but you have more than earned the right by single-handedly defeating a Dark Lord and a Basilisk. That is also part of the truth and would have the benefit of boosting your ego. The real reason, I am afraid, is much more selfish. With your connection to Tom destroyed, I am overwhelmed by how thrilled I feel to finally be free to speak to you truthfully. It is a miracle that I can finally build a deep trust between us, and I can't build that trust by hiding inconvenient truths from you."

Harry felt stunned. The idea of an openly honest Dumbledore still seemed very foreign to him, but it was appealing. He thought about staying with Albus, and then though about going back to Hogwarts. His heart gave him the answer.

"I'll stay with you."

"Are you sure? You won't have much opportunity to bond with people your age."

"If I go back to Hogwarts, would I be able to quit whenever I want?"

"No."

"Would I be under the authority of Snape and McGonagall?"

"Yes. And I would be required to correct you so that you use the title of Professor. Since you are currently not a Hogwarts student, I feel no compulsion to correct your choice in how you address them."

"Then, I'm certain I don't want to go back."

Albus smiled broadly and stood. "Wonderful! Now let us go meet our basilisk contact."

Albus knocked on the door of the building and spoke in Gobbledegook to the goblin who answered the door.

Harry bowed. "Thank you for welcoming me to…" and then faithfully repeated the Gobbledegook phrase he had been taught by Albus.

The goblin looked at Harry for a moment, then looked up at Albus whose eyes were sparkling with joy. When he spoke to Harry, it was in clear English. "Can you repeat that?"

Harry frowned and concentrated. He repeated the phrase precisely, then spoke in an uncertain voice. "That is how you pronounce the name of the village, isn't it?"

The goblin looked back up at Albus and rolled his eyes. "The name of the village is Dewbrook. What you just said was 'Goblins are Awesome'. To be fair, we are awesome. Come on in."

Harry looked up at Albus in shock. "I thought you wanted to build my trust."

Albus's eyes sparkled with blatant mirth. "Pranks don't count. Come on, let's make you a fortune."

Harry watched Albus walk into the building. He stood there, torn between shock and amusement. Eventually amusement won out and he was chuckling as he walked into the building.

He definitely needed to stay with Albus now. How else would he learn enough to prank the old man back?

As they entered the building, the smell of death assaulted Harry's nostrils so forcefully that he almost found himself stumbling at the stench. He covered his nose in desperation and looked up at Albus. The man was looking around serenely without even the smallest hint of disliking the odor. Albus simply walked over to a desk, spoke a few quiet words, and then sat down on a bench near the door.

"We will have to wait a few minutes. Shan't be long."

Harry, nose firmly pinched, sat down next to Albus.

"Albus, how are you not reacting to this… stench?"

"Hmmm? Oh yes, I had forgotten how aromatic it can be here. I have a bubble of air constantly being refreshed around my head, which I applied as soon as we entered the village."

Harry stared at Albus, an activity he found himself doing on an alarmingly frequent basis. "You didn't think of telling me?"

Albus glanced at Harry, raising an eyebrow. "You didn't think of asking me about the odor before we entered the building?"

Harry glared at Albus, though the effect was lessened by the hand pinching his nose.

Albus took a purposefully deep breath before slowly exhaling. He then spoke in an overly magnanimous tone. "I suppose I could put a bubble around your head, if you desire."

Harry nodded rapidly but was cut off from speaking by Albus raising a hand.

"Or, I could teach you how to do it for yourself. Which would you prefer?"

Harry was torn between his desire to receive his first magic lesson from Albus, and his desire to breath fresh air right away.

"How long will it take to learn?"

"The simpler method would take a few months for you to properly learn. The more complex method would take five to ten minutes for you to achieve the desired result."

Harry was sure that Albus had mixed up that sentence but was game to spend five minutes on learning a new spell. "I'll do the five-minute version."

Albus smiled happily. "Excellent. First, take out your wand and start twirling it around. Picture yourself slowly filling the wand with your magic, swirling the magic so it is evenly distributed. It might help to think of how you feel right before casting a spell. But, do not think of any particular spell nor try to cast anything."

Harry looked at his wand incredulously, shrugged, and began twirling it in the air. Albus stared at the wand intently, while occasionally offering advice that Harry would obey promptly.

"Hmmm… you're not allowing any magic to trickle into your wand. Try a few flicks to begin the flow… that's good! Stop flicking, and swish for a while to even out the flow… very good Harry! Now, point downwards and slowly twirl, as if you are stirring a potion. No, just use your wrist. There we go, the magic is starting to even out now. Flick up once and switch directions on your twirl. Very good!"

Harry was starting to understand why this was the more complex technique. He had no idea what he was doing, but he could feel… something happening with his wand. It had a similar feel to casting a spell, but indescribably subtly different.

"Now, keep twirling your wand while you picture a bubble of fresh air surrounding your head, protecting you from the outside world. See the stale air being constantly replaced with fresh invigorating air. Keep twirling the wand, let your body take over the action while you create the bubble in your mind. Nod when you can picture your bubble."

Harry concentrated on the bubble, while slowly letting his wrist twirl as if of its own accord. He could feel a slight pressure building inside of his body but shunted that thought to the side as he focused on the bubble. Slowly, he nodded.

"Excellent! Keep twirling your wand, while holding that picture in your head. Now, breath deeply. Inhale the foul odors of this building, and revel in your disgust. Let your desire to escape the stench to become your sole goal. Let it grow past a mere desire. Let it become a need. Not just a need, but a base necessity. You need the stench to disappear as a matter of survival. Feel your body struggle between fleeing or fighting the odor. Demand your body to fight. You have fought a Dark Lord! You have fought a basilisk! You will not surrender to a mere odor. It will fall to your might! Feel it!"

Harry was feeling it. He almost hated the odor. He wanted to shout that he was a wizard who not be felled by a mere stench! The pressure in his body was now almost unbearable. It felt like he was inflating like a balloon.

"Keep twirling your wand to keep your wand's magic evenly distributed. Keep feeling that need to fight the stench. Bring that picture of the air bubble to the front of your mind. When you know you are ready, know it to the very depths of your soul, touch the tip of your wand to your head and let the bubble be created. This bubble is your birthright! When the time is right, claim what is rightfully yours!"

Harry's body felt like it was swelling to bursting. His wand had become an extension of his magic. His body craved victory over the stench. His mind could see the air bubble with perfect clarity. He was ready! He could do this! There was no question, this was inevitable. His hand rose of its own accord and tapped his head.

Harry gasped. He felt spent. His wand felt oddly foreign in his hand. His mind felt empty. His body felt like he had just run a marathon. He breathed deeply, and slowly felt his energy and focus returning to him. His wand was regaining its sense of familiarity. After two minutes of slow breathing, he realized that the air was fresh and clean. He had done it! He whooped in joy.

"Congratulations Harry, you just managed to cast an alternate version of a sixth-year spell in only eight minutes. Well done!"

Harry grinned like a loon. This had made all his previous spells feel like pale reflections of true magic. This was amazing!

"Albus… why don't they teach us like this at Hogwarts?"

Albus's eyes sparkled with mirth. "Are you sure you want to hear right now? It may put a damper on your good mood."

Harry shook his head, almost drunkenly. "There is nothing you can say to lessen how good I feel. Why don't they teach it?"

"Well, there are two reasons. The first is simple. I invented this method and have never taught it to anyone before today."

Harry's eyes widened in disbelief. "Really?"

"Really."

"Best tutor ever!"

Harry raised his hand for a high-five, which Albus bemusedly reciprocated.

"The second reason is that it is absolutely critical for you to distribute the magic properly in your wand, perfectly picture what you want to happen, and fully feel the need to achieve success. If you fail on any one of those steps, the results can be… quite unfortunate."

"How so?"

"At best, the spell simply fails. Slightly worse, the generated effect is wrong and possibly harmful. In your case, you forget to have the air refresh and end up suffocating. Even worse, your wand explodes in your hand. And at worst, based on a close call from my youth, your wand and intrinsic magic get in a cascading battle loop of increasing power eventually theoretically leading to an explosion that liquifies your body and destroys everything within at least a few dozen feet. I have had all of those occur, though I obviously managed to stop the cascading before being liquefied. In that last case, I was merely put into a coma for five months. Luckily, Nicolas and Perenelle were there to care for me."

Apparently Albus was correct about his answer putting a damper on Harry's mood, as Harry's good mood had just been thoroughly damped. He felt his throat dry up with retroactive nervousness.

"Why would you let me do something so dangerous?"

Albus shrugged. "I have long since learned how to see and understand the flow of magic. I could clearly see your magic and saw you properly pulling the three elements together. I was prepared to stop or stun you if need be. It's how I was able to give you notes on how you were filling your wand. You were never in any danger. Though, if you desire to avoid liquification, you may want to avoid using this technique without my supervision. At least until I confirm you have mastered the technique."

Harry nodded numbly. "Yeah… I think I'll take that advice."

The sound of a throat being politely cleared shocked Harry. He had honestly forgotten that they were in a waiting room.

"Hello Albus" spoke a pleasant looking goblin, "as amusing as it is watching you perform the impossible, perhaps we can first finish up discussions of last night's impossible feat your student performed when he killed a basilisk with a sword. Shall we?"

Albus smiled serenely as he stood. "Of course, come along Harry."

Albus and the goblin stared at Harry, as he remained sitting.

"Mr. Potter" spoke the goblin with an amused tone, "if you are going to let your mind break every time Albus redefines everything you thought you knew about magic, he's likely to start hanging signs on you to let people know that you are unavailable due to brain overload."

Harry felt his stupor lift as he laughed lightly.

"Thanks, that was a good one. And, you can call me Harry."

The goblin smiled in return. "You are quite welcome. I wasn't joking about the sign, but I'm still happy to give you the laugh. Oh, and you can call me Jeff."

Harry raised an eyebrow as he stood and followed the duo. Albus and Jeff.

Jeff the Goblin.

Seriously… Jeff!?

Jeff's office was a simple room. It had a desk, a filing cabinet, and some old chairs to sit on. For some reason, Harry was expecting something a bit more interesting for a goblin's office. It was just so… plain.

"Not what you were expecting?"

Harry focused in on Jeff, who had just spoken. He felt embarrassed to be caught out like that.

"No… no no… no! It's a wonderful office."

Jeff raised his eyebrow with a clear look of disbelief.

Albus chuckled. "I believe young Harry is feeling a bit surprised by how underwhelming your office and name are."

Jeff turned from Albus and looked at Harry expectantly.

Harry wished he could crawl into a hole and hide, but there was no place to escape. The stupid office didn't even have a coatrack or umbrella stand to duck behind. Looking at Albus, he decided that this was likely another of Albus's pranks. He resolved to learn as much as he could as quickly as could, so he could prank the man back.

After a deep breath, Harry spoke. "It's not underwhelming, it's just not what I expected. However, I am curious about your name. Is Jeff a normal name for a goblin?"

Jeff smiled in a friendly manner. "Well, in Gobbledegook, my name is" followed by a harsh guttural string of sounds. "But that is a bit hard on non-goblin throats, so I go by Jeff for short. What sort of name were you expecting?"

Harry's mind went back to the first goblin he had ever met. "Well… Griphook for example."

"Griphook from Gringotts?"

"Yes."

"He's a slimy git! The little bastard has never met a deal that he wouldn't try to renege on while only technically meeting the letter of the deal. It's why he's still only a cart driver. Is he still lying about there being only one speed for the carts?"

Harry felt a bit embarrassed as he nodded. He had liked Griphook. Well… there was the fact that Griphook seemed excessively pleased to tell an eleven-year-old child that the bank employees are happy to let attempted thieves starve to death in their vaults. In that light, Harry may have just been too excited about joining the magical world and viewed nearly everyone through rose-colored glasses.

"As for the names" continued Jeff, "humans tend to expect aggressive or harsh names like Griphook, Tendonripper, Spleenextractor, and the like. As such, Gringotts has its employees go by harsh names as a form of customer service. I worked there for a summer, and I was called Heartcrusher. But the work was boring and so here I am. I work with fewer humans, and those few tend to be well-traveled ones who won't bat at an eye at my preferred name."

Harry nodded. That did make a sort of sense.

Jeff clapped his hands together. "Now, with that out of the way, let's get to business! We've already rendered the basilisk down to its most valuable components, and have buyers lined up for the initial batch. The rest of the component will be put into stasis and sold later, to avoid flooding the market and decreasing profits."

Harry nodded slowly.

"Of course, you impressed me by killing a basilisk that large. As such, I am going to offer you a deal that I rarely offer to anyone. I'm willing to let you receive half of the profits. What do you say?"

Harry looked to Albus, who was looking back at Harry with curiosity. He looked at Jeff, who was smiling pleasantly. He shrugged. "Well, you're doing all the work of selling it. Fifty-fifty sounds fair to me."

Jeff groaned and handed a Sickle to a smug looking Albus.

Harry looked on with confusion. "What was that about?"

Jeff shook his head. "Albus bet me that I could offer you an excessively insulting offer, and you would accept it without negotiating. I figured that no person who would challenge a basilisk with just a sword would also be that much of a pushover. Fifty-fifty is nowhere close to fair because you did all the hard work. And now I am down a Sickle."

Harry looked at Albus in shock. "You set me up?"

Albus was unfazed by Harry's shocked tone. "Somewhat. Jeff was certainly going to offer you a bad deal as the opening bid, expecting you to negotiate for your rightful share. Though, fifty-fifty is much worse than he would normally start with. I was hoping to lose the bet and prove that your apparent modesty is actually honest modesty instead of a lack of belief in the value of your actions."

"Are you going to keep on betting against me?"

"Harry, the salary I received from you is one Knut a year. I must supplement my income somehow. If you want me to stop betting against you for negotiations, then I guess you will just need to learn how to create an accurate assessment of the value of your actions and what you can offer the world. So, start believing in your self-worth, and you need not worry about me betting against you."

Harry still wanted to be angry at Albus but found himself irritatingly touched by the words. Stubbornly he held onto his outrage. "So, you would have let me be ripped off here?"

Jeff laughed, catching Harry's attention. "Like I would rip off Albus or his student. My grandmother would never give me a moment of peace when she found it."

"Why? And how would she find out?"

Jeff pointed at Albus. "He would tell her." Albus simply shrugged in agreement.

"But, why would she care?"

Jeff looked at Albus expectantly. Albus smiled slightly. "I supplied some assistance to her husband a while back, and she decided that her family owes me a debt. She made it a point of honor, at which point it would be exceedingly rude to deny the existence of the debt."

Jeff barked out a laugh. "Harry, that is how you can be honestly modest. He won't brag about his actions, but he knows how much we value those actions, nonetheless. What the old coot hasn't said is that the 'assistance' was him single-handedly fighting two dozen of Grindelwald's forces to save my grandfather and the rest of the village from being slaughtered. He fought them off for nearly ten straight hours, casting high powered spells for the full duration while ensuring that not a single goblin life was lost. He ended up taking a nasty curse to the leg because he had to redirect a shield to cover my grandfather from a deadly curse. Without Albus Dumbledore, I would never have been born and this village would be nothing but a memory."

Harry looked at Albus with a new level of respect. He had, of course, heard about Albus Dumbledore being the one to defeat the Dark Wizard Grindelwald. It was his first Chocolate Frog card after all, and he had read the card a few times since his first train ride. It was easy to see Albus as a grandfatherly genius. It wasn't even surprising to learn that Albus had a special understanding of magic that left Hogwarts classes in the dust. But it had never really occurred to him that there would be people out there who had concrete reasons for viewing the man as a hero. Looking at the man, Harry saw Albus's cheeks were slightly pinker than they had been earlier.

Albus cleared his throat. "Yes, well that is enough talk about the past. Let's get back to our negotiations. I can teach Harry about negotiating later. For now, my normal rate should suffice."

After that, the terms of the deal were quickly worked out. Harry was shocked by the projected profits and was pleased to know that he would not have any money problems for the foreseeable future. Albus bade Jeff a fond farewell and promised he would make time for dinner with Jeff's grandmother.

As they walked out of the village, Harry saw something he realized he had not noticed before. Harry had been used to being stared at, so he had initially ignored the looks the goblins had directed towards him when he first entered the village. Looking again, with the new information, he realized that the goblins were ignoring Harry and instead were directing their looks of fondness and adoration towards Albus. It was an oddly pleasant feeling to not be the subject of hero worship, especially when the actual person had more than earned the worship.

Before reaching the edge of the village's borders, Harry remembered something.

"Albus, why do you have a normal rate with Jeff?"

"Hmmm? Oh, I occasionally receive calls for help from around the world when an exceptionally dangerous beast is encountered that the locals cannot handle. Usually a nundu, cockatrice, snorkack with uncrumpled horn, or dragon. Normally I can relocate the beasts to a safe area where they are not a danger to anyone. Sadly, sometimes I must put the creature down. When that happens, I call in Jeff to render the body down, so its loss is not just a waste. Over the decades I have negotiated the rates with Jeff's grandmother so that her family finally gets a reasonable cut of the profits. She initially insisted that I receive all the profits, and her children and grandchildren receive a minimal flat fee, and I had to wear her down slowly to reach the current rates. Luckily, the rarity of quality ingredients from most of the creatures I put down allows for Jeff to make a small fortune even with the exceptionally low percentage of the profits he receives."

"… wow"

"Indeed. Now, are you ready to give your relations a headache?"

Harry grinned widely as Albus touched his shoulder and the two disappeared.

3. Chapter 3

Harry and Albus appeared in a darkened room, Harry's eyes tightly shut in preparation for being apparated. It was still an uncomfortable experience. As he opened his eyes, he frowned. The room was familiar.

While the light was dim, he could clearly see the light blue couch in the center of the room. It was covered in a layer of cat hair, from over a dozen different cats. The legs and base of the couch were scratched to such a severe degree that there wasn't a single spot where one could not see unmarred wood or fabric. Harry knew this couch. He had sat on this couch for countless hours watching slide shows of cats in various "cute" poses. Pictures of the same cats that were constantly crawling over him during the shows.

Looking around, he saw the familiar second-hand coffee table, old-fashioned radio in the place where most people would have a television, and thread bare rugs covering the hard-wood floors. Every item covered in scratches and fur. The only thing missing was the normally overwhelming odor.

He looked up at Albus's serene face. "This is Mrs. Figg's house."

"Yes, it is. I wonder if she'll finally take me up on the offer for some magical assistance in keeping the house clean. I am happy to see that she read my note and kept her cats locked away today."

"How do you know Mrs. Figg?"

"I'll assume you aren't asking for the full history of our friendship, which is a pleasant and somewhat interesting story, and are primarily questioning the unbelievable coincidence of my friend being your neighbor. The answer is what you are likely suspecting. After I left you with the Dursleys, I bought this house and placed Arabella here to report on your health and happiness."

Harry's face contorted into a mixture of shock and outrage. "You knew how I was treated?"

Albus sighed. "Yes… yes I knew. As I said, I knew what sort of people your relatives were, and I crafted a law that would allow you to attend Hogwarts regardless of their decisions. Indeed, your placement is what finally spurred me into accepting the constant offers I received to take up a role in the Wizengamot and ICW."

Harry took a deep, cleansing breath. He wanted to scream. He wanted to punch Albus's crooked nose. And still… Albus could have apparated them to somewhere completely different. The man could have easily withheld the information, and Harry would have been none the wiser. Albus had been shockingly truthful and helpful since the previous evening. Harry took another deep breath and looked into Albus's eyes. All he could see was sorrow.

Harry sat on the uncomfortable couch, ignoring the cloud of dust and cat hair that puffed up from the fabric. He indicated to the other side of the couch, which Albus sat down upon.

"Please explain yourself."

Albus smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Harry. Perhaps it would be easier to first explain why you were placed with the Dursleys in the first place."

"I have often wondered why my parents would leave me with them."

"Well, rest assured, they were not your parents' choice. When you were first born, they updated their will to dictate who should be given custody of you in the event of both of their deaths. In order, they were Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin."

Harry felt a tingle of familiarity, though he couldn't place the names. "Who are they, and why wasn't I put with one of them?"

"The short answer is that they were your father's best friends throughout their time at Hogwarts. And, once your mother started dating your father, they quickly became your mother's best friends. As for why you are not with them, Sirius is in prison, Peter is no longer among the living, and Remus is a werewolf."

Harry felt his outrage spike. "I'm not with Remus because he's a werewolf!? Was that your choice, or the Ministry?"

Albus's shoulders slumped. "Neither. The Ministry likely would have fought your placement with a werewolf. Their treatment of those with the curse is… nothing short abominable. However, I would have used all my power to ensure that your parents' will was executed as they desired. Sadly, the decision was made by your parents."

Harry's outrage fizzled away. "Why?"

"Just like with Minerva and your friends, it all came down to fear making fools of us all. Are you sure you want to hear this now? It is a tale that has to do with your parents' deaths and is not happy. We can leave it for another day, if you wish."

A part of Harry wanted to wait until another day. On the other hand, he had a constant hunger for stories about his parents. Happy or sad, it would still be another memory he would have.

"I want to know!"

Albus sighed deeply and closed his eyes. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes and straightened his back again. "Very well, Harry. I suppose the story best begins with Tom being told a prophecy which he interpreted as meaning he had to kill you and Neville Longbottom."

Harry opened his mouth, but Albus raised his hand.

"Let's hold off on discussing the prophecy for the moment, Harry. For now, it is irrelevant to the story."

Harry slowly nodded in agreement.

"After you and Neville were born, your parents and the Longbottoms went into hiding together. For one month, they were safe. And then, I received news that their location had been compromised. They ran, and their new safe house lasted two weeks. That is how it went for three months, with them having to flee almost every week. All the while paranoia was ratcheting up. While it was never spoken out loud, I suspect the Longbottoms and your parents started to believe being together was a liability. So, at three months, they chose to go their separate ways."

"Why would they suspect that?"

"Based on a few small comments here and there, I think they were letting blind optimism convince them that only one of you boys was being targeted. As cold-hearted as it might seem, it is a perfectly reasonable parental response to try to save one's own child even at the cost of another person's child. Out loud, they said that splitting up would require the other side to use more resources to find them."

Harry frowned and nodded.

"As luck would have it, the Longbottoms were able to find a safehouse that remained secure. Although, in retrospect, it was likely known by Tom, and he simply was more interested in you. Once he had disposed of you, I am sure that Neville would have been the next target that evening. Your parents, however, continued running for the next two months. Eventually they accepted the offer I had been making all along of staying at Hogwarts. By that point in time, they had become convinced that there was a spy amongst their allies. Their circle of trust was reduced to me, Sirius, Peter, and Remus."

"Why wouldn't they just stay at Hogwarts in the first place?"

"They said that Hogwarts was no place to raise a baby. That they wanted a nice place where they could raise their child, and have it become a real home."

Harry's expression shifted to frustrated confusion. "But… they could have been safe! They were safe with you… they didn't have to die!"

Albus sighed sadly and placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "I think that they knew all of that at an intellectual level. But, in their hearts, I think they just wanted to give you a happy home and were suffering from cabin fever. You must understand your parents and the Longbottoms had been extremely active in the fight against Tom and his forces, so hiding went against their instincts. A parent will do many things for their children, but a parent is also still a person with needs and desires that have nothing to do with their children. Perhaps giving you a happy home was their way of continuing their defiance, while still doing the right thing for you. Accepting refuge at Hogwarts may have felt too much like surrender."

"Who cares!? They would have been safe!"

"Says the young man who chose to fight a basilisk single-handed instead of finding an adult."

Harry opened his mouth to respond but could find no immediate words to refute Albus. Albus simply waited patiently as Harry worked through his thoughts. Finally, Harry shook his head and paraphrased Albus's words. "Fear makes people stupid."

Albus nodded sadly. "Indeed, it does. It becomes easier to forgive others and ourselves once we can remember that simple truth. As for your parents, they were finally safe and could rest. However, they still wanted to find you a real home. That is when Lily, your mother, began searching through the library. I gave her full access to my personal library, and every book I could find for her. And that is how she ran across an oblique reference to a spell called the Fidelius Charm."

"What is that?"

"A spell that allows a secret to be contained in a person. The secret can only be shared by the person, known as a Secret Keeper, anyone else trying to share the secret would only speak or write nonsensical gibberish. For months, Lily and I researched and tracked down enough hints to eventually recreate a version of the spell. Your parents were thrilled, because it meant they could finally find a safe place to hide and truly raise you in a real home. All that was left was preparing a property and choosing a Secret Keeper."

Harry felt his stomach drop out. He could see where this was heading. "You said that Sirius is in prison, he was the Secret Keeper, wasn't he?"

"Yes, he was. I was not at his trial, but I was told that he confessed to betraying your parents. He had apparently joined Tom's side and was the spy we feared we had in our midst. Sadly, the tale is much more tragic than you are thinking."

Harry looked at Albus with open disbelief. "How!? One of their best friends betrayed them, and that's not enough tragedy? Damn it! Why weren't YOU their Secret Keeper!?"

"I offered to take the role many times. But your father and his friends were so tight knit, he couldn't imagine trusting anyone but his circle to the secret. As for what made the tragedy worse, I believe Sirius convinced your parents to betray Remus."

Harry closed his eyes in resignation. "… you said I wasn't with Remus because of my parents and him being a werewolf. That's what the betrayal was about, wasn't it?"

"Yes. I should say that Remus was a werewolf well before attending Hogwarts, and your father was aware of his affliction during their Hogwarts days. Normally he would never hold that curse against his friend. However, Remus tended to openly complain that the Ministry treats werewolves horribly, while Tom was offering full rights to those werewolves who joined his side. It was no surprise that so many werewolves were joining the Dark Lord's ranks."

"Was Remus right about that?"

"Yes, he was. Though he was also aware that Tom's offers were empty promises. Still, your parents were paranoid about spies, and there was Remus speaking a bit too passionately about why werewolves were joining the very man planning on killing you. They didn't want to openly confront their friend, for fear of being wrong, so they simply revised their will to exclude Remus from the list of potential guardians along with a note explaining their reason and an apology if they overreacted. At the will reading, hearing that note is what finally broke the man. On the occasions I have tried to convince him to write you, he has simply told me that James wanted him to have nothing to do with you and he was going to honor that wish."

Harry felt his heart filling with anger for Sirius Black and sadness for Remus. "Do you think he would answer me if I wrote to him?"

"Perhaps… you can make that decision on some other day. I will support whatever decision you make."

Harry nodded, his eyes moistening with unshed tears.

"With Sirius selected as the Secret Keeper, I then prepared the property and charged all the necessary wards. All that was needed was performing the ceremony for creating the secret. Your parents asked me to wait at a nearby pub, while they finalized the charm. I remember feeling a wash of magic that made me feel uneasy, much like how one feels when they have an important appointment to attend but have no idea what it could be. Sirius then brought me to the property, and they confirmed that I had no ability to find your parents. It was a final test, as they felt that if it worked against me then it should work against Tom. Sirius then handed me a slip of paper with the secret, which I memorized and destroyed, and then I once again knew where to find your parents."

"And then Sirius betrayed my parents!"

"Yes, yes he did. Though Tom did not attack right away. You and your parents had three months together as a family, where they finally felt at peace. They had certainly achieved their dream of having a home."

Harry frowned in confusion. "But… why did Tom wait so long to attack?"

Albus shrugged. "I am not certain. My best guess would be that he liked the symbolism that Halloween represented, as he had a predilection for significant numbers and dates. Then again, he was petty enough that he could have just thought it would be amusing for you to share the same Death Day as the house ghost of Gryffindor. We'll likely never know the real reason for the delay, but we can be grateful for the additional time you had with your parents."

"I suppose it doesn't really matter much. So, how did I end up with the Dursleys?"

"It comes down to the night of the attack. I was in my office when I felt a surge of magic flow over me. I wish I could say I immediately knew what it meant, but it took me well over an hour before I recognized its similarity to what I felt when the Fidelius Charm was activated. I rushed down to Hagrid's hut, as he not been given the secret, and asked him where your family lived. Much to my dismay, he was able to answer me. At that point, I was certain that all of three of you had passed, and knew I had to rush to the Longbottoms to protect them from an attack."

"Why would you think we were all dead?"

"The secret was about where the Potters lived, and according to what we understood of the spell, it could only break if the secret was no longer true. To me, that meant that the Potters no longer lived. I am ever grateful that the spell was overly specific about the usage of a plural noun, as it allowed for a single Potter to still live. I am also grateful that Hagrid is an eternal optimist that insisted that I send him to go help you. I gave him a Portkey and then travelled to the Longbottoms to protect them from an attack that never came."

Harry felt a burst of warmness for the gentle soul who was his first friend in the magical world, and then his eyes shot wide open. "Hagrid! He's still in Azkaban!"

Albus smiled kindly. "Fear not, Harry, I ensured his freedom last night as the healers were treating you."

Harry smiled in relief and relaxed into the couch, before once again furrowing his brow. "So, Hagrid brought me to the Dursleys?"

"Not right away. He first brought you to a safehouse. He called in Poppy to care for you, who in turn contacted me. Hagrid went to The Leaky Cauldron to drink away his sorrow. I arrived and was pleased that the only ill effect you had was your scar. Poppy inspected it, and knew it was beyond her capabilities. I inspected it and saw the dark magic rolling around behind it, though I didn't know what it was at the time. I called in several friends of mine who are well versed in curse breaking and the dark arts, who agreed to be obliviated after the consultations, and we all came to the conclusion that it was both a unique curse and also extremely dangerous to try treating without knowing what it was. And so, your scar remained."

"And the Dursleys?"

"Almost there, Harry, I apologize for the delay. That night, I went to the Ministry, while sending out messages to meet with Sirius and Peter. As neither responded, I initially feared that they had been captured and killed, with Sirius being tortured first to reveal the secret. The thought that he voluntarily betrayed your family never entered my mind. As I talked with the various Aurors and Ministry officials, I began to overhear rumors about Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "How in the world did they hear… you said Hagrid went to The Leaky Cauldron. Hagrid is why I'm called The Boy Who Lived, isn't he?"

Albus smirked. "At this time, please remember the warm feelings you just had for the poor fellow."

Harry chuckled. "You know, he has nearly gotten me killed on multiple occasions and I now know he is the reason I have that horrible nickname. And still… I just can't find it in me to stay mad at him."

Albus smiled. "It is one of his most annoying and endearing traits. I have never known anyone to maintain any sort of hatred for Hagrid. Even those who would gladly fire Hagrid are still hard pressed to stay more than irritated with the man."

Harry laughed. "Maybe he's secretly a Dark Lord who has been pulling the strings all along."

"If he is, then he has certainly earned his victory."

Harry smiled at the thought of Hagrid sending his minions off to do his dark bidding, like brushing unicorns and bathing pixies. After a minute, his thoughts once again returned to the topic at hand as his smile dimmed. "So, you started hearing rumors…"

Albus's smile faded as well. "Indeed. Along with the rumors, I started hearing people speculating about what would happen to you. Primarily, who would take care of you. The consensus that was forming was that someone like you should go live in the lap of luxury amongst a proper pureblood family. The frontrunner being…"

Harry's face paled, as one family name clearly popped into his mind. "Not… not the Malfoys!?"

"Yes. And without a named person in the will or a close relative, I wouldn't have been able to legally stop it from happening."

"But… but… I'm not even related to Malfoy!"

"Well, to a degree you are related to nearly every person in our community. I think the closest relation would be a third cousin, and no one close enough to be called a Potter. But the relations are there and can be manipulated by those with enough wealth and political power. Now if consider the fact that after Tom's fall, many of his Death Eaters bought their way to freedom, which side do you think had the most political power?"

"So, without Sirius or Peter around, it was either the Dursleys or a Dark Wizard who was likely to kill me or offer me up as a sacrifice to their Dark Lord?"

"That is what the law would allow me. Technically, the Ministry likely wouldn't have approved of your Aunt taking custody, as she is not a witch. That is why I didn't ask for permission. Once you were placed with her, they had no legal reason to remove you from her custody. At the time, I still hoped that Sirius or Peter would present themselves to take care of you. Sadly, Sirius killed Peter and then was revealed to be a traitor and you were stuck with the Dursleys."

Harry sat in silent contemplation. "Why did you keep specifying what the law said? Was there an illegal choice you had?"

Albus smiled proudly. "Very good Harry, I was wondering if you would pick up on that. Yes, I have always had a backup choice. I was prepared to kidnap you, go on the run, and raise you personally."

Harry looked at the man in disbelief, a small feeling of anger stirring in his chest. "Then why, in the name of all that is good, did you leave me with god damned Dursleys?"

Albus sank back into the couch with a deep sigh. "I wanted to offer you the best chance possible at a happy childhood."

"Well… you failed!"

"Perhaps. Based on the reports, it quickly became clear that you would not find a friend in your cousin. Then, it became clear that you would not find a friend at your primary school. But I still held hope that you would make friends at Hogwarts, once away from the Dursleys. If it wasn't for that hope, I would have taken you long ago. I have stood outside your front door on dozens of occasions, trying to convince myself that kidnapping you was the right answer. Had they been a bit worse, had they ever resorted to physical violence past the bullying your cousin gave you, had I been certain that you would not find friends at Hogwarts, I would have followed through on the desire. Still, I knew that being on the run with me would mean abandoning your parents' dream of you making close friends and being happy at Hogwarts. Tell me, Harry, up until you were revealed to be a Parselmouth, would you have preferred being kidnapped by me over attending Hogwarts?"

Harry looked at Albus. The man looked sincerely saddened by his choices, and so Harry held back his knee-jerk reaction and truly thought about the answer. He forced himself to remember to before the pain of his best friends thinking he could be a Dark Wizard. He remembered all the good times he had with them, and the happiness he had felt to finally have friends. Then he remembered the preceding years of pain he had with the Dursleys. Had the good offset the bad? What if his friends had stayed true, would the good have eventually offset the bad?

Harry looked into Albus's sad eyes. "I… don't know."

Albus shook his slowly. "Neither do I, Harry. Neither do I."

The two of them then sat back and silently kept each other company for several minutes before Harry cleared his throat and spoked with a forced cheer. "So, what's the plan with the Dursleys?"

Albus grinned.

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of Number 4 Privet Drive were perfectly normal, thank you very much! There was nothing outstanding or overly interesting about them or their house. Oh, it was certainly a point of pride that their flower beds had won the neighborhood competition for five years running, but they were not abnormally spectacular. Mr. Dursley had a perfectly respectable job at Grunnings as a manager, and a perfectly respectable job was a perfectly normal thing to have.

They also had a perfectly normal son, Dudley, attending Smeltings Academy. He was a wonderful and extremely fit boy (despite the unreasonable warnings they regularly received from the school nurse regarding him being unhealthily overweight), who had a lovely group of respectable young friends in the neighborhood (despite the false rumors that occasionally circulated about him leading them as a gaggle of bullies). He was his parents' pride and joy and would soon be returning for the summer.

The lone aspect of their lives that marred that perfect normality was Petunia's immensely abnormal nephew, Harry Potter. Despite their best efforts, they had not managed to raise him to be normal. While they knew that in two weeks, they would need pick up the abnormal boy from his school that taught him to be increasingly abnormal, they chose to ignore his existence and simply enjoy the pleasant Sunday afternoon.

Vernon sat reading a newspaper, as Petunia reviewed her recipe book to decide on what special meals to make for her darling Duddiekins, when he came home next week. The lovely silence was broken by the doorbell and a knocking on the door.

"Ruddy salesmen" grumbled Vernon. "Don't get up Pet, I'll send them away. Maybe give them a telling off for interrupting an honest person's evening."

Petunia smiled gratefully as Vernon stood and walked out of the living room, and towards the entrance hall. She always did enjoy listening to her husband putting people into their proper place. Sadly, she was to be disappointed on this evening as she heard Vernon open the door and begin speaking in a harsh voice.

"Now listen here, we aren't interested in buying… boy! What are you doing here? And, you! Who are you!?"

An elderly voice responded. "Ah, Vernon, it is wonderful to finally meet you in person. Harry's words hardly do justice in describing you. May we enter?"

"You most certainly may not!"

The sound of the door hinges creaking could be easily heard.

"What, in the ruddy hell, are you doing? You can't just be using your… abnormality in my house. Now, step outside, stop doing whatever you are doing to keep my door open, and let me slam in your freakish faces!"

"Oh, Vernon, Harry never mentioned what a jokester you are. Very droll. Ah, hello Petunia!"

Petunia stared in shock as her hated nephew and the man, who she recognized from Lily's pictures to be Albus Dumbledore, walked into the living room. Vernon following, with his face purpling in rage.

"Petunia, you are looking as lovely as ever. Vernon, please take a seat as we have much to discuss."

Vernon stared at the wand in Dumbledore's hand, and sat down stiffly on the couch next to Petunia. Dumbledore waved his wand, and there was suddenly a new couch in the room which he and Potter sat on.

Dumbledore then caused a tea set to appear on the table in front of the couches. He prepared a cup for Potter and then himself. He took a sip, and then gestured with his hand to offer tea to the Dursleys. They, unsurprisingly, ignored the offered tea.

After another sip, Dumbledore spoke up. "I hope you can forgive the intrusion, however there was a development at Hogwarts that requires your immediate attention. I won't bore you with the details, so it should suffice to say there were a series of unfortunate events that occurred over the course of the school year. These events have culminated in young Harry's expulsion from Hogwarts, hence his earlier than expected arrival."

Vernon smiled cruelly. "So, they finally showed a little bit of intelligence and decided you didn't belong with them either, eh boy?"

Potter's head bowed down. "Yes, Uncle Vernon."

"Well, I guess you'll finally be done with that abnormal freakishness and learn what it means to be normal!"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Ah, Vernon, your goodness knows no bounds. It is very kind of you to try to limit the emotional impact of Harry's magical education coming to end, by calling magic abnormal freakishness. However, you need not fear. Harry has hired me on as his personal tutor, so I can continue his education."

"What!?" both Vernon and Petunia spoke at the same time.

"Of course, the nature of these private tutorships means that I will be living here with you. I understand you have a guest room, so I will happily accept the offer I am sure you were about to make. And this room we are in now will make a wonderful teaching room, though it is a bit lacking…"

To the horrific shock of Vernon and Petunia Dursley, Dumbledore began waving his wand around in incomprehensible patterns. The room slowly began to increase in size, until it was at ten times as large as it had been. Bookshelves began filling all the new wall space, as the blocked fireplace became unblocked and increased to be large enough for a person to comfortably stand inside. Gas lamps burst out of the walls and lit with flames that cycled through every color of the rainbow.

"Excellent!" spoke a happy Dumbledore. "Now, just to populate those shelves..."

Dumbledore pulled a miniature trunk from his pocket, which expanded with a single tap of his wand. The trunk opened suddenly, and various books and unknowable knick-knacks began to fly out of the trunk at impossible speeds. Before the shock had worn off of the Dursleys, the shelves were filled with books, golden items that puffed smoke, jars full of eyes that were somehow still blinking every few seconds, and so many other items that practically screamed magic (and one book that literally screamed as it jumped out of the bookshelf and ran up the stairs).

"And there we go. As you can clearly see, Harry has the future of his education fully in hand" spoke a beaming Dumbledore.

"NO!" bellowed Vernon, who had finally gotten over his shock. "NO! You will not be doing any of that freakishness in my house! I forbid it!"

Dumbledore frowned, as Potter kept his head lowered and face hidden.

"Vernon" spoke a concerned Dumbledore. "My dear fellow, the law is quite clear in this regard. This is Harry's home, and I am Harry's personal tutor. Harry will be able to use his magic freely in this house, and as such he needs to have the appropriate environment for learning."

Vernon's face paled. The idea of Potter being able to perform his… to do THAT inside their home… it didn't bear thinking. "Then, consider yourself fired!"

Dumbledore smiled sadly. "I'm afraid that the law only gives Harry the power to fire me."

Vernon turned, and viciously pointed his finger at Potter. "Boy! Fire him, now!"

Potter lifted his head, and instead of seeing a meek expression, Vernon saw a look of pure resolve. When the boy spoke, it was softly and firmly. "No."

"Yes!"

"No."

"You will fire him right now, Boy, or you will regret it!"

Potter lifted his wand, spoke nonsense words, and Vernon watched as his armchair floated up in the air. It performed a full circuit of the room through the air, and then was set back down where it had been sitting initially.

Silence followed. The last time the boy had performed his freakishness over the previous summer, it was only a matter of minutes before a letter was received warning him that he was not allowed to be an obvious freak outside of school. Vernon and Petunia were both waiting for the inevitable owl.

The silence was unbroken (save silent sips of tea from Potter and Dumbledore) for five minutes. Then, the sound of fluttering wings was heard, and an owl came flying through an open window in the kitchen. It dropped a letter on Potter's lap and then flew off.

Vernon smiled vindictively as Potter opened the letter and read it out loud.

"Dear Mister Potter,

We have received intelligence that a Hover Charm was used by your wand at your place of residence this afternoon at five minutes past four.

As you know, underage wizards are not permitted to perform spells outside school, however we received the appropriate forms this morning indicating your withdrawal from Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, and subsequent hiring of Albus Dumbledore as your personal tutor. As such, this letter is to inform you that you are now officially exempt from all restrictions for underage magic usage. Additionally, to avoid unnecessary confusion, the Trace on you and your wand has now been deactivated.

We would also ask you to remember that any magical activity that risks notice by members of the non-magical community (Muggles) is a serious offence under section 13 of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy.

Enjoy your holidays! Yours sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk

IMPROPER USE OF MAGIC OFFICE

Ministry of Magic"

Both Dursleys listened with growing horror. Not only was the doddering old Dumbledore destroying their home, but Potter now could fight back with impunity. As the two of them looked at Potter, they wondered what his smile meant. If they were in his place, they knew that they would not be gentle.

"Get out! Find somewhere else to live!" This time it was Petunia who spoke.

"Petunia" spoke a suddenly nervous Dumbledore. "You can't mean that. Harry is of your blood. He is your family. You can't just deny him his home and family."

"I do mean it! I deny him a place in my house, AND I deny that he is my family."

"Petunia!" Dumbledore spoke louder and more urgently. "Please, take that back. Harry IS your family!"

"NO! Harry IS NOT my family!"

"Please, Petunia" Dumbledore now pled. "Harry James Potter IS your family. You can't just deny your relationship."

Petunia's face had transformed to one of pure rage. "I can't deny it!? I CAN'T deny it!? I DO DENY IT! HARRY JAMES POTTER IS NOT MY FAMILY AND I DENY ANY RELATIONSHIP EXISTS!"

Petunia was anticipating seeing the mighty Albus Dumbledore crawling on his hands and knees. Finally, the old man would pay for dismissing her as a child. She felt powerful!

Albus Dumbledore did not beg. He did not crawl. He shrugged.

To clarify he shrugged with a complete lack of concern, and then pulled out his wand. With a wave, all the items from his trunk flew back in, the room decreased in size, and all modifications disappeared. He and Harry stood up, and the tea set and couch disappeared.

"Oh well, Harry, I tried. As the law requires, your aunt was given two chances to recant her denial of family. Petunia, in the magical world you are no longer legally related to Harry and so this is no longer his residence. We will be heading on out now."

Petunia was shocked. "So… he's no longer going to live here?"

"That's correct. Oh, I did forget to mention that Harry happened to kill a dangerous beast this year that will earn him a small fortune. Enough that you could have easily retired today and live a life of mild luxury. Of course, you are no longer legally entitled to any of those funds, though I know you wouldn't have accepted the money from Harry's hard work anyway. I just wanted you to know so that you weren't afraid for his future financial health as he went off on his own."

Vernon stuttered at that. "Money? Fortune!? But…"

Dumbledore kept talking. "Well, we should be off. I wouldn't worry too much about how you just destroyed all the protections on the house that kept you safe from malicious magic users. It's not like moving would help you that much, nor is there anything you can do, so worrying won't help anything. Off we go, Harry!"

As the door closed, the Dursleys sat in shocked silence.

In Dudley Dursley's room, a forgotten book sat under the bed. Waiting to scream and attack the next person it saw.

Right after the door closed, Harry watched Albus walk to the border of the property. He waited patiently as Albus moved his wand in complex patterns while walking the full perimeter of the property. The whole process took less than five minutes.

Once Albus was done, he beckoned for Harry to follow. The two walked to Mrs. Figg's house in silence.

Once indoors again, Harry turned to Albus. "What did you do to their house?"

"Well, as fun as it is to fill them with paranoia, I don't wish to leave them completely undefended. So, I put a ward down that will convince people that you don't care about what happens to the Dursleys and they don't care about what happens to you. It helps that it is simply reinforcing something that is mostly true. It should work well enough to keep people from attacking them in order to either blackmail you or appease you."

Harry narrowed his eyes as he stared at Albus. "What else does it do?"

"What makes you think it does anything else?"

"Well, you seem a bit too pleased with yourself. Also, you keep whistling nonchalantly every time you stop talking."

Albus chuckled. "Well, I did add a little something to help them get over their obsession with normality."

"Like?"

"Their grass will always be cut to a quarter of an inch shorter than their neighbors. Its growth will be held back until it sprouts up overnight to a quarter of an inch taller than their neighbors. Their house will invoke a sense of being just slightly abnormal. When people look at your aunt and uncle, they will think there is something undefinably slightly weird about them. And their flowers will always rate as second place in their neighborhood competitions."

Harry looked at the man, feeling the familiar sense of shock and surprise that he encountered so many times during this day. Finally, he chuckled. "You can really be a right bastard when you want to be, can't you?"

Albus looked down over the top of his glasses at Harry with a serious expression. The expression stayed for several uncomfortable seconds, and then was broken by a smirk as he placed his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Harry, as my brother would readily tell you, I have always been a right bastard. Luckily for you, I am YOUR right bastard!"

Without even the slightest sound, Albus twisted and the two disappeared.

4. Chapter 4

Harry had decided that he really hated Apparating. He had assumed that he would become accustomed to the horrible sensation of his stomach feeling like it was about to jump out of his mouth. His assumption had been wrong. Rather it had only increased to the point where his stomach felt distinctly angry, and was preparing leap out of his mouth, run away to Toronto, and enter witness protection so that Harry could be executed for crimes against gastronomy.

Harry glared up at Albus. "Is there any way you can make that a little or a lot less uncomfortable?"

Albus smiled down at Harry. "No"

Harry glared back up at Albus, while Albus smiled down at Harry with an expectant look in his eyes.

After a full minute passed in silence, Albus sighed. "Do you have a follow up question, Harry?

Harry's glare disappeared as his brow furrowed in confusion. "No… like what?"

Albus rolled his eyes slowly and shook his head in mild despair. When he spoke next, he was clearly doing an impression of Harry. "Well, gee, Albus, if there is nothing YOU can do to help me with making it more comfortable to Apparate, is there something I can do?"

Albus's voice then returned to normal. "That's an excellent question, Harry, I am very glad that you are so inquisitive. And, of course, there is something YOU can do."

Harry huffed. "There's no need to be sarcastic."

Albus grinned. "There was also no need for you to miss the obvious follow up question. I suppose mistakes were made on both our parts."

Harry chuckled. "OK, I'll try to ask better questions. Now, how do I stop it from being uncomfortable?"

"How does it feel when we're in transit?"

"Like… like I am being sucked through a tiny straw and I am being squeezed by a super-sized vise so I can fit through."

Albus smiled lightly. "Ah yes, that is a common description, though you're the first to mention a vise. Well, just spend the next few days thinking of the best way to prevent feeling like that. Now, let's head on out of this alley. While I do enjoy the newest artwork applied to the walls, especially the latest batch of romances that are going to last 4 Ever, I am somewhat saddened that it appears that Ted has yet again found a new paramour. One can only hope that Jessica, Sam, and Heather have recovered from the devastation of losing a catch like Ted. Also, it smells as if a gentle citizen was once again unfortunately unable to find a lavatory in time and was forced to use the nearby wall as a backup. Shall we?"

As Albus began to stride out of the alley to the road, Harry followed him with an annoyed expression. "You didn't tell me how to stop the discomfort!"

"I gave you the hint you needed."

"Can you just tell me how to do it?"

"No."

"I hate you."

"And yet you hired me to be your tutor. You probably should be more stringent in your hiring practices."

Harry smiled broadly, then he spoke in a slightly curious tone. "You know, I didn't smell anything."

Unseen by Harry, Albus smirked.

Harry looked at the building in front of him, with a sense of confusion. "What is this place?"

"This my home away from Hogwarts."

"THIS is your home?"

"Well, I live upstairs."

Harry looked at Albus with a raised eyebrow. "And the bowling alley?"

Albus sighed with deep pleasure. "I own the building and the bowling alley. I believe my Chocolate Frog card says I have a passion for ten pin bowling, so that should come as no surprise."

"And the name?"

Albus looked at the sign with a pleased smile. "It's wonderful, isn't it?"

"Don't you think it's a bit petty?"

"No, it's extremely petty. Now let's go in! Oh, do remember that this is a purely non-magical business so avoid talk of magic."

With that, the two walked into the Lord Bowl-Some-More bowling alley.

The inside of the bowling alley was not exceptionally different from a standard small bowling alley, not that Harry had ever entered a bowling alley in his life. There were twelve lanes with only four currently in use. There was a bar that served pub food and had a TV playing some random sports game, and an old arcade game in the corner called Galaga. While the building was perfectly clean, it gave off the vibe of a grimy hole in the wall neighborhood bar.

One thing that grabbed Harry's attention, making him roll his eyes, was a sign behind the check-in desk that read "Tom's Riddle of The Day" followed by an easy to solve riddle.

"ALBUS!" shouted a friendly gregarious voice.

Harry turned to see a tall and muscular (with a bit of a paunch) red-headed man walking quickly toward him and Albus. He looked like a shorter, clean-shaven Hagrid. His eyes lit up with warmth and the crinkles around his eyes indicated a person who was no stranger to smiling. When he reached the pair, he wrapped Albus in a strong hug.

"Oooph! Hello Connor, you can let go of me know. I am fragile, you know."

Connor chuckled, and nudged Harry. "Don't believe him lad, I've seen him take a misthrown 6 kilo ball to the gut, and he walked it off in less than a minute. What are you doing back so early? I thought you had another fortnight or so before your summer break."

Albus smiled. "Well, there were some unfortunate misunderstandings, and I was offered an unexpected early retirement. Luckily, young Harry here was… also offered an unexpected early retirement, and he decided to take me on as his tutor."

Connor laughed loudly. "Well, we'll have to have a drink to celebrate your being canned once you settle in with Harry… wait! Is this the Famous HARRY?"

Harry grimaced as Albus nodded with a wide smile. He had no idea why a muggle bowling would know about The Boy Who Lived, but it seemed to fit in with his luck.

"Joyce!" Connor bellowed to the lady working at the bar. "Joyce, look it's Albus and his honorary grandson Harry!"

Harry stared up at a blushing Albus as Joyce hurried over. She was a pretty woman who looked to be about 40 years old, had curly dark blonde hair, and exuded a motherly aura. She smiled as she bent down to be at eye level with Harry. When she spoke, it was with a delighted tone of voice.

"Hello Harry. It is wonderful to meet you. We've heard so much about you. Last summer, half the time that Albus was here we spent listening to him bragging about you."

Harry looked at the woman in shock. "Really?"

Joyce smiled brightly. "Oh yes, he couldn't be prouder. How you remained humble despite your success as the star player of your football team. How you stood up against bullies and helped to raise the confidence of your friends. And how he learned that your fondest wish wasn't money or name, it was just to be around family. The year before that we listened to him talking about how he couldn't wait for you to start school, and how he wished he could contact you before that. The day before he left for your first year, he was as excited as child on Christmas Eve."

Joyce and Harry looked up to see Albus blushing brightly and looking around uncomfortably. From the bar a bell rang.

Joyce smiled. "Work beckons. Welcome Harry, it's been a pleasure meeting you. And making your grandfather blush is just icing on the cake." She winked at Harry and headed back to the customer at the bar.

Connor chuckled deeply. "Well, it looks like Joyce got all the fun there. I take it you're going to settle in for the evening, Albus?" Albus nodded, as his blush faded. "Alright, I'll see you tomorrow. Harry, the kitchen is open from 11AM to 10PM. It's on the house for you, and if you fancy a game, we will keep lane twelve reserved. Wonderful to finally meet you. We can go over the business tomorrow, Albus?"

Albus coughed, blush completely gone. "Yes, thank you Connor. Come along Harry, let's head upstairs."

As they entered the apartment, Harry took in the extremely muggle look of the room. Then, looking over to the window he smiled brightly.

"Hedwig!"

On either side of the window was a perch. Atop one perch was Hedwig, on the other was Fawkes. Harry jogged towards his beautiful snowy owl, petting her with great love and speaking softly to her about how beautiful and wonderful she was.

Albus smiled at the sight and walked slowly towards Fawkes. He bent down to look into the eyes of his Phoenix as he ran his fingers down his loyal companion's throat, Fawkes trilling in delight.

After several minutes of silent petting, Harry finally spoke while keeping his eyes focused on Hedwig.

"Sooo… I'm your honorary grandson?"

Albus looked over at Harry, his lips turning up slightly, and looked back at Fawkes whom he resumed petting.

"While you and your parents were staying at Hogwarts, I offered to babysit you whenever they needed a break. An offer they took advantage of with increasing frequency. By the time you left, I was watching you roughly four to eight hours a day. Whenever your mother brought you to my office, she would tell you to be good for your grandpa Albus."

Albus closed his eyes and sighed deeply before continuing.

"I never had any children of my own, Harry. Neither did my brother, and my sister… she died much too young due to some terribly stupid choices I made in my youth. So, while I am sure it didn't mean anything to your mother, being 'Grandpa Albus' started to fill a hole in my soul I didn't know I had."

Albus opened his eyes, looking past Fawkes, lost in memory.

"I was lucky enough to be there to watch as you started to crawl and the near immediate aftermath where you started to get into everything you shouldn't. I remember one time when I had you in a play pen and went to answer a Floo call. It lasted just shy of five minutes. When I looked back at you, you had somehow managed to escape the pen, find a six century old scroll on potion making, tear apart the scroll, and begin a good effort to slobber on and gum the torn pieces into an irreparable mess."

Albus chuckled, smiling at Fawkes.

"My fondest memories of those times though were holding you when you were tired or just wanted to be held. One of your favorite things to do was wrap yourself in my beard, using it as a blanket and a pillow. I would get no work done, my beard would be full of slobber, my arms would sometimes fall asleep, and I always felt that it was over too soon."

Albus turned to look at Harry, who was focused intently on petting Hedwig.

"I don't expect you to think of me as your grandfather, Harry. However, you shall always be the grandson of my heart."

If Albus noticed the unshed tears in Harry's eyes, he did not mention them as he turned back to Fawkes. The two just stood silently petting their avian companions in comfortable silence, until Harry cleared his throat, wiped his face and eyes with his hands, and turned away from Albus to look at the room they were in.

"Sooooo… this is your home away from Hogwarts… I was not expecting it to be so…"

Albus turned to look at the room with a small smile. "Normal?"

"Yeah"

The room was indeed normal. It wasn't the painful normality of the Dursley's home, rather it was the sort of normal where any person looking at the room would quickly assess that it belonged to a bachelor who kept his place clean but not spotless. There was nothing magical at all about the room.

The walls were an off-white color. There was a TV against the far wall with a VCR sitting on top, with a collection of tapes sitting next to it. In front of the TV was a worn couch and recliner, both looking like they were still comfortable. At the opposite wall was a basic kitchen that looked like it rarely got any use. Harry assumed the bathroom and bedrooms were down the hallway he saw near the kitchen. While he had never thought about the idea of teachers having homes away from Hogwarts, even if he had he would certainly never have pictured any member of the Hogwarts staff living in somewhere so devoid of magical trappings.

Harry looked towards Albus when the man chuckled.

"Harry, I could hardly leave this apartment full of evidence of magic while I was away at school. Although, I try to keep all magic work reserved to one room which can easily be cleared in an emergency. I mainly try to live a non-magical lifestyle when I am away from Hogwarts."

"Why?"

"In case I ever had to go with my backup plan of kidnapping you from the Dursleys. I needed to make sure I could easily navigate the non-magical world as a potential place to hide."

Harry's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Wait! Are you saying you bought this place, the bowling alley and apartment for me?"

Albus shrugged. "Well, I bought the bowling alley for me, because I love bowling. But, yes, you were the reason I decided to purchase a non-magical building."

"When did you buy it?"

"The day after Sirius was sent to Azkaban. Now let's see if Connor taped my favorite show. I swear, Satellite TV is a wonder."

Harry gaped as he followed Albus to the TV. Albus bent over to look at the stack of labeled tapes, as Harry sat on the comfortable couch.

Albus picked up a tape with a victorious grin. "Wonderful! I just wished this worked at Hogwarts."

"TVs don't work at Hogwarts?"

"Not anymore, they don't."

"They used to work?"

Albus pushed the tape into the VCR and sat down before answering. "Yes. A few years back Connor gave me a tape of the movie Star Wars. If you haven't seen it, we will have to rectify that problem. It has a wonderful discussion about the Dark Side and the Light Side, a lovable rogue of a man who reminds me a bit of Severus mixed with your father, and it is ever so much fun to cast a Lumos while waving your wand around and making light saber sounds with you mouth. Since Connor gave me the tape at the end of the summer, I brought my TV and VCR to Hogwarts. I set it up in my office and watched the movie several times over the first month back at school. Finally, I was talking to Filius about the movie and invited him up to my office to enjoy it. Once I turned on the TV, both the TV and VCR sparked and started to spew forth acrid smoke. Confused, I went and bought another TV, VCR, and tape. As soon as I turned it on, it all sparked again. I wondered if it was because of all the students in the building, so I tried in the middle of summer with the same results."

Harry's face filled with confusion. "That doesn't make any sense. Why would it work for a month but not again?"

Albus shrugged. "I don't know for certain. My best guess is that Hogwarts was fine with me watching TV by myself, but once I invited someone to join me, she became jealous and didn't want to compete with non-magical entertainment for attention."

"Really?"

"Maybe. Harry, it is important to accept that magic is weird sometimes. And when it is being weird, you need choose your battles and decide if its worth fighting the weirdness."

"That… that doesn't sound right."

Albus spoke in a completely unconcerned tone. "Fair enough. Feel free to figure out a better reason."

Harry looked at Albus with a suspicious look in his eyes. "Wait a second... when I asked how I survived the killing curse as a baby, you told me it was because of my mother's sacrifice. Was that…"

As Harry was talking, Albus was pointing his remote at the TV and frowned in confusion. Looking down at the remote, he huffed and pulled out the batteries. As Harry trailed off, Albus looked at Harry as he stood up. "Hmm? Oh, that. I believe I told you something along these lines at the time, but it was my best guess. So yes, before you ask, you very well may have survived simply because sometimes magic is weird."

Harry stared at the man's back as Albus walked into the kitchen to search for replacement batteries.

"Oh, Harry!" shouted Albus from the kitchen amidst the sounds of drawers opening and closing.

"Yes?"

"I need to prepare something for our visit with the Malfoys. It's going to take most of the week, so you will need to entertain yourself."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"It's your vacation. Do whatever you want. Bowl, eat, play Galaga, learn how to cast spells without a wand, watch TV, read. Whatever you like."

Harry perked up. "I can learn wandless magic?"

Albus walked in while placing fresh batteries into his remote. "Why not? Just place your wand in a different room to be safe and figure out how to cast a spell you already know."

"Any hints?"

Albus sat down and smiled when the remote successfully began to play his tape. He hit pause and looked over at Harry. "Yes, if you start to feel tired, then take a break. Other than that, think of this as an independent study… or a hobby if you prefer. Try different things, and I can offer some ideas once you have been at it for a while. I have complete faith that you will figure out the trick to eventually going completely wandless!"

With that said, Albus turned back to the TV, settled into his chair, and started his show.

Harry watched as the show's opening played and he asked with some confusion in his voice. "What is a Doogie Howser?"

Albus simply smiled.

As the days passed, Harry focused most of his energy on trying to levitate a feather without a wand. He kept his wand in his bedroom while he stood in the kitchen and swished and flicked his fingers endlessly while yelling "Wingardium Leviosa" at a feather on the counter. Initially he had gotten excited by his rapid progress, until he realized that his wild arm movements were creating a breeze that was causing the feather to tremble. When he took a few steps back, the trembling stopped.

He also took Albus's advice to heart and took breaks as he felt himself tire out rapidly. He wasn't sure why he was tiring so quickly, as he was just shouting and waving his arms, but he followed the advice.

Bowling was not Harry's game. Connor and Joyce tried to teach him, but Harry simply could not get a hang of achieving a proper throw (or even a throw that was better than rolling it between his legs). Over a total of five rounds, his top score was 49 points.

Galaga, however, was Harry's game. After a couple of tries to understand the game, his reflexes kicked in and he found himself clearing levels with ease. Eventually though, he would grow bored and walk away.

He tried to read, but his brain protested the idea of reading schoolbooks during the summer.

TV was a reliable source of entertainment, but even that grew old. Though he did enjoy the nightly session of watching two episodes of Doogie Howser M.D. with Albus.

His main form of relaxation was eating bar food while chatting with Connor and Joyce about the world to help him figure out what sort of non-magical hobbies he might be interested in trying out. It was also interesting hearing Albus being referenced as just the kooky and nice old man who owned the bowling alley, and not some sort of living legend.

Albus primarily spent his time in his room working on some unknown project, which occasionally caused bright flashes of light and puffs of multicolored smoke to escape under his door.

At noon on June 5th, Albus exited his room while cracking his back and neck. He walked into the kitchen to see Harry jumping up and down in place talking to himself. "This time Potter. Come on, you can do it! You can do it! You can do it!"

Harry shoved his right arm high in the air and began to yell an inarticulate repeating grunting sound as his face scrunched up into an expression that looked like he was trying to intentionally force all the blood in his body to reside in his face. He slowly lowered each finger of his right hand until all that was left was his index finger pointing straight up. Slowly, while still grunting, he lowered his finger until it was in front of his nose, pointing straight up.

Harry stared at the feather with an expression of deepest loathing. He then took a deep breath, pointed his index finger at the feather, and he yelled with such power and conviction that Albus wondered if Harry believed the feather to have performed some unforgivable crime.

"WIIIIIIIIIINNNNN" Harry's arm began the most violent swishing motion ever performed. Albus was impressed as he never thought it was possible to be so violent and yet still have the motion fall within the parameters of a swish.

"GAAAAARRRRRDIIIIIUUUUMMMM" Harry's arm finished its swish correctly. Albus was pleased with the pronunciation.

"LEEEEEVIIIIIOOOOOOOOOOOOO" Harry's arm moved up for the flick, finger at the ready. Albus thought the "O" was being properly elongated to the proper ratio compared to all the other elongations.

With a burst of speed and power, Harry's arm slammed down with his finger pointing right at the clearly criminal feather. "SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Albus watched as Harry unleashed what seemed to be the combined rage of every sapient being on the planet to punish this monstrous feather for all the lives and families it had likely destroyed during its dark reign of terror. It was a truly impressive display.

The feather, rather callously, remained unaffected.

Albus opened the fridge and poured pumpkin juice into two conjured glasses. He turned back toward Harry, took a sip, and spoke. "So, any progress?"

Harry simply glared.

Albus handed a glass to Harry and beckoned him to sit on the couch.

Harry took the glass and hesitantly followed the man and then sat down. As he sipped his pumpkin juice, he felt his frustration start to drain away.

Albus sat on the couch next to Harry and sighed after taking a deep pull of his juice. "I wasn't mocking you Harry… well, I was mocking you a bit, but the question is still valid. Have you had any progress?"

Harry glowered. "Outside of progressing to the point were I now need to take a break after just one try? No!"

Albus smiled proudly. "Oh, that is excellent news. It sounds like you're pulling in your magic, but just not doing anything productive with it."

Harry perked up. "Really?"

Albus shrugged while still smiling. "Maybe. It could be you are just exhausting yourself with all the yelling and violent movements. Perhaps you might find more luck by not speaking or moving your hands."

"Is that the trick?"

"I don't know, it's worth a try. It has its pros and cons, though."

"Like what?"

"Well, the pro is that you won't be yelling all the time which will grant me some peace. The con is of course that I will miss out on the entertainment I get from watching some of your more ridiculous attempts. Now, come on, we are meeting the Malfoys tonight, so let's get a filling lunch, take a nap, and relax."

Albus vanished the two glasses of pumpkin juice, got up, and walked out of the room and down to the bowling alley.

Harry, having gotten more used to Albus's sense of humor, rolled his eyes and followed.

From afar, the Malfoy estate was a stunning sight under the light of a nearly full moon. The immaculately kept gardens that surrounded the expansive main house made was already an awe-inspiring sight by the light of day. However, the light of the moon made it clear that the gardens were the home of several faerie colonies, as the moonlight caused the flitting beings to sparkle with a rainbow of color and transformed the sight into something truly magical.

The magic of the view would be offset if one was aware of the layers of wards protecting the property (including five added over the past week) and the grounds and house being patrolled by a guard force numbering no less than three dozen. Entering the grounds without permission would amount to assisted suicide.

If you could ignore it being a death trap, then it was quite a magical and beautiful sight.

On a small hill overlooking this sight, Harry and Albus appeared without making a noise.

Harry grinned and spoke softly. "It worked!"

Albus raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"You remember when you told me to figure out how to make the apparating more comfortable? I figured out what you meant by your clue."

"Oh?"

"Yes, I knew that the straw had to be narrow for the trip, but I also figured that that it didn't need to be narrow around us. And since you told me visualization was important back before entering the goblin rendering place, I just visualized the straw bulging around us comfortably, while the bulge itself travelled down the narrow straw. And it worked! I felt comfortable."

Albus smiled. "Well done, Harry. I'm proud of you."

Harry grinned. "I can't believe I figured out your trick on the first try."

"Oh, that's not what I do."

Harry gawped. "What?"

"You found your own way. Congratulations Harry."

"Then what do you do?"

"It doesn't matter Harry. You found what works for you and what I do is irrelevant."

"Are you ever going to tell me?"

"… let's focus on our upcoming criminal trespass, shall we?"

Harry grumbled under his breath but did not say anything else loud enough for Albus to hear. Once Harry finished his grumbling, Albus handed over a pair of glasses.

Harry shrugged, took off and put away his normal glasses, and put on the new glasses. He then looked at the Malfoy estate, grabbed his head and silently screamed in agony.

Albus sighed. "I was going to recommend that you close your eyes before putting on those glasses, and then slowly opening your eyes to avoid sudden sensory overload. Your way saves time I suppose. In the future you may want to ask questions before making use of unknown magical items and potions I hand you."

Harry would have snarked back, if he was not busy trying to tear off the glasses and screaming silently in agony.

Albus bent down to look at the hunched over Harry. "The glasses will stay on you for three hours. So, you can stop trying to remove them. The headache will fade if you calm down and let your mind process what you just saw. Take a couple minutes to breath and slowly open your eyes to look at the Malfoy home again."

Harry did as Albus said, and indeed the headache faded quickly after he took several deep breaths. It was another 15 minutes before Harry was able to see the Malfoy estate without a headache. Through the glasses it appeared to be composed of nothing but extremely bright lights mixing, pulsing, and forming a shell around the building and grounds.

"What am I looking at?"

"You are seeing Magic and Life, Harry. The main thing you are seeing are the wards. If they weren't overwhelming everything else, you would see there are people underneath them. Please pay close attention to how you and your magic feel throughout this field trip. Now, focus on the brightest color, the gold. What do you see?"

Harry spoke in awe. "You made me glasses that let me see Magic?"

"Yes, but they must be used within one week of creation, last only three hours, and can't be created more often than once a year. So, please focus now and ask questions later. I would hate for you to miss out on the educational experience I am offering."

"The educational experience of breaking into a house?"

Albus spoke with a pleased tone. "And threatening a powerful political figure, yes. I'm glad you understand. Now, focus on the gold light. What do you see?"

Harry looked at the gold light, trying to ignore everything else. "It's just a giant blob surrounding the area… no… it's starting to clear up a bit. It's starting to look like a shell that is… breathing… no it's getting clearer. It's almost like breathing, where it seems to pulse upwards slightly and then settles back down, and the surface appears to be shifting around. Like… like oil on water."

Albus smiled. "Very good Harry. It became clearer as you focused only on that because your brain started to dismiss all the other magic. It's shifting like that because a good ward usually takes a few months before it fully settles into place. You can force it to settle quicker of course, but then the ward becomes brittle and easy to shatter. Say what you will about Lucius, even when rushing new wards, he makes sure to pay for quality."

"So… how do we get past the ward?"

Albus grabbed Harry's hand, holding it gently. Harry then felt his body begin to buzz. It was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable, it was… weird. As his body continued to buzz, he saw the gold light fade and disappear. Albus spoke with soft satisfaction.

"We simply adjust our magic to make it seem like we are part of the ward. Oh, by the way, this is one of those tricks I have never taught anyone, so please try to keep it to yourself. Now, you see that purple light?"

Harry did see the purple light, as it was now the brightest light. It differed from the gold as it seemed to thrum, with a band of energy running up the circumference of the dome starting from the ground and then ending at the top.

"Yes. It looks different from the gold. This looks likes it thrusting up from the ground, while the gold looks like it was just dropped on top of the grounds."

Harry could hear the smile in Albus's voice. "Excellent distinction, Harry. There are many minor differences of course, but you saw the major difference. When a ward seems to be just placed randomly, it was likely devised by Wizards. When it seems to be powered by the Earth, it was likely devised by Goblins. Finally, when it looks like a cobweb, it was likely devised by House Elves. The House Elf Wards are easy to overlook and can be devasting, so always keep out an eye for even the faintest of colors. Now, I am going to keep adjusting our magic until all the wards think we are part of them."

Harry watched in shock as the purple light faded, disappeared, to be replaced by a dark blue light, which faded and disappeared. After the dark blue, there were twelve more lights to disappear. The last being a barely visible light green cobweb filling the air and ground of the entire property. He could now see individual lights throughout the grounds and building, some of which were dull.

Albus spoke up. "Now, the dull lights are magical artifacts, we avoid those through an invisibility spell of my own design."

Harry felt the multi-faceted buzzing start to thrum slightly, as the magical artifacts disappear from his view.

"The bright lights are living creatures or people. It looks like Lucius hired a guard force, which is flattering. Of course, the real concern is not them but the bright green light in the basement."

Harry looked and saw it. Its brightness was greater than the light of any of the other beings in the house. "What is it?"

"That is a House Elf, Harry. Often underrated, but incredibly powerful when it chooses to be."

Harry's eyes lit up. "That's Dobby! Oh, they treat him horribly. Is there any way to free him?"

Albus chuckled. "I am sure something can be arranged Harry. But while he still serves the Malfoys…"

The buzz and thrum began to ding, and Dobby's light disappeared.

"And then match the general magic of the people…"

The dinging changed frequency and the light of the people dimmed.

"… and then we just cast simple invisibility, silencing, and odor removal spells and we are ready to head to the master bedroom. Keep a hold of my hand Harry, or else things will become… complicated."

Harry tightened his grip and the two began their walk to the main door.

"Now Harry" spoke Albus in a conversational tone, ignoring the half dozen guards standing near the front entrance. "Remember that they can't see or hear us, so feel free to talk. How do you recommend we get through the entrance without alerting the guards to us being here?"

Harry looked at Albus in horror. "We're breaking into a house, and you don't know how to get in?"

Albus grinned. "What sort of field trip would this be if I did all the work for you and didn't let you have some fun? Worst case scenario, we get into a massive fight with everyone in the house and go on the run for the rest of our lives. You faced a three headed dog and then immediately jumped into a dark hole of unknown depth, so I am sure you can handle this."

Harry looked around for any sort of clue. He thought about knocking on the massive double doors, but that seemed likely to alert people to their presence. He thought about breaking a window, which still had the same problem. He thought about just hurling a rock somewhere to distract the guards from the entrance, but he didn't know if there was an alarm connected to the doors. Finally, a thought struck him.

"Could you get the guards to open the doors for us. Maybe make them think that they need to check in with the internal guards?"

Albus smiled while he nodded. With a quick flick of his wand, one of the guards (a weedy looking man with a mean look to his eyes) got a confused look on his face.

"Ey, Rog. I'm going to check in with Frank inside. Make sure everything is looking good in there. Help me with the door, will ya?"

Rog and Weedy made their way to the door, tapping the door in a specific order that Harry didn't catch. The double doors opened wide. Harry and Albus walked past the duo as Weedy began talking to one of the plump guards inside the house.

Once inside, the duo easily made their way to the master bedroom's door. One guard stood at the ready.

"What do you think Harry?"

"Well… was there an alarm on the front door?"

Albus looked at Harry with an expectant look. "Yes, there was."

"But I didn't see the magic for it…"

"And?"

"Do the alarms think we are safe?"

Albus's eyes twinkled. "They think we are part of the house."

"So… even if this door has an alarm, we can just open it and walk through?"

Albus nodded.

Harry grinned broadly. Albus was right, this was fun. "OK. Make the guard think he saw a shadow down the hall, and we will sneak in when he investigates."

A bit of wand work by Albus, and the duo were standing in the master bedroom, looking over a sleeping Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.

"OK, Harry, I am going to cast a quick silencing and locking charm around the room so we can have some privacy, then some spells upon the Malfoys, and then will make me visible and able to be heard. You will stay invisible and silenced, so remember to keep holding my hand so that you stay protected from the wards. Are you ready?"

"Ready!"

Albus raised his wand.

Lucius Malfoy slept soundly in his oversized and luxuriantly comfortable bed. He had no doubt that the Old Fool Dumbledore wouldn't have been able to bypass the security he had from a week prior. But, with his upgraded security, his home had to be the most secure home in all of Britain. He doubted even his old master would be able to enter without alerting anyone. As such, he went to sleep assured that Dumbledore would never make it within ten feet of his front gates. As he slept, he dreamt about waking in the morning to see the Old Fool being held by his guards.

Unsurprisingly, it was a shock for him to wake up suddenly due to a powerful enervation spell.

"Good evening Lucius and Narcissa."

Both Malfoys sat up to see the hated Old Fool standing causally in the middle of their bedroom, acting as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Both glanced at their night tables, eyeing their wands and left them where they lay. They knew that if they went for their wands, then Dumbledore would have more than enough time to summon them away and leave them scrambling like some sort of common folk. They would not give the man the satisfaction of embarrassing them like that.

"Headmaster" spoke Lucius. "Or I suppose that no longer applies. Shall I say Chief Warlock or Head Mugwump? You still hold those positions, at least until I report your intrusion."

The Old Fool simply smiled at the barb. "You can call me Albus, Lucius, as I have no intention of keeping those positions. I will be travelling, so I would not be able to give the positions the attention they deserve. Additionally, as both require a certain adherence to the law, I would feel a bit hypocritical keeping them. After all extortion is quite a crime, and I came here to inform you that I have taken on the new role of being your extortionist."

Lucius and Narcissa went for their wands, which predictably flew away and landed on Narcissa's vanity desk. Lucius sat upright, staring into Dumbledore's eyes. He spoke with barely repressed fury.

"You come into my home, and threaten my family? How dare you! I don't care who you are, I will see you in Azkaban even if it costs me my entire fortune."

Dumbledore spoke calmly. "And how would you use your fortune?"

Lucius sniffed in disdain. "I would simply have a conversation with Cornelius and… and…" Lucius trailed off in confusion.

Dumbledore spoke kindly. "Well, let's start at a simpler note. How would you get your money?"

Lucius looked at Albus with a growing sense of unease. "I would go to… to… that place… and then just… just…"

Dumbledore smiled. "Well, certainly you must have money here?"

Lucius looked at Dumbledore in dread. "I have a pouch. All I would have to do is… is… isssssssss… WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"

Dumbledore's smile turned icy. "I have used a special curse of my own design on the both of you. While active, you will intellectually know what currency is and that you have a sizable amount of wealth. However, you will have no conception of how to retrieve said currency or even spend it. Nor will you know how to use a third party, including young Draco. Indeed, you won't even be able to transfer control of your fortune to anyone else including your heir. You will still be obscenely wealthy, but it will be useless to you. Push your luck and you will be the wealthiest paupers on the planet."

Narcissa looked at the man in terror. This was not the Albus Dumbledore she was used to dealing with, and she would make sure Lucius did not try to play the same games he had played with the old Albus. She wondered if this was a glimpse into the Albus Dumbledore that the Dark Lord feared.

Lucius looked at the Old… at Albus with a mixture of rage, fear, and grudging respect. "What do you want?"

Albus's smile regained its warmth. "Well, it occurred to me that my early retirement from Hogwarts might encourage you to make some… unwise and hasty decisions. For instance, you might be tempted to push forth some of those rules you have wanted that would discriminate against those not of Pureblood heritage. Hogwarts still matters a great deal to me, so I would greatly appreciate if you would ensure that you don't work towards laws or policies that you know I would disapprove of. If you follow that standard, then you need not worry about starving on the streets with a vault full of Galleons. If you are looking for guidance on how to act, feel free to owl me at Gringotts and I will reply promptly."

Lucius ground his teeth together. "Anything else?"

Albus sighed. "There is something. It seems that my student, Harry, has taken a liking to your House Elf Dobby and I would love to give him the surprise gift of seeing his friend freed. Would you mind terribly calling him and freeing him for me?"

Lucius stared at Albus, seething, barely managing to speak. "Fine! Dobby!"

Dobby popped into the room, looking scared and miserable in his dirty dishcloth. His ears drooping in submissions.

"Master bes calling Dobby?"

"Yes, Dobby, fetch me a pair of my socks."

"Dobby bes doing as Master says", and before the sentence was finished Lucius was holding a pair of his fine socks.

Lucius held out the socks in disgust. "I present you with these clothes. You are dismissed from your association with the Malfoy family."

Dobby trembled as he took the socks. "Dobby is free? Dobby IS free! DOBBY IS FREE!"

Lucius sneered at the joy exhibited by the damned Elf.

"Well done Dobby" spoke Albus, surprising the House Elf. "Young Harry will be pleased to hear of this. Might you be willing to come by, if he called?"

Dobby's eyes widened. "Harry Potter sir wants to talk to Dobby!? Harry Potter sir is being the best wizard ever! Dobby be coming if Harry Potter sir be calling. HEE HEE HEE! DOBBY IS FREEEEEEEE!"

With that, the disloyal House Elf popped away. Lucius felt that it was good riddance.

"Thank you, Lucius" spoke Albus. "I appreciate your time this evening. I will see myself out. If you share the curse's existence with anyone it will be permanently activated. Oh, and I should mention, as payment for your role in opening the Chamber of Secrets, you won't have access to your money for a full week. Hopefully you'll play nice, so I won't have to make it permanent. Take care."

Albus then disappeared. Lucius ran to his wand and confirmed that he and Narcissa were alone.

The married couple looked at each other for a long moment and spoke as one to succinctly summarize their situation.

"Crap!"

5. Chapter 5

Pain!

That was the first thought that when through Harry's mind as he woke the next morning. His head felt as if he had an evening of heavy drinking, woke with a massive hangover, that hangover then went out on a bender and then woke with a hangover of its own, and the nesting doll of hangovers then decided to try chewing on Harry's eyeballs as a possible cure.

In short, he did not feel overly well.

Harry slowly rose from the guest bed in Albus's apartment, hoping desperately that Albus would have some sort of cure for his ice pick in the brain style headache. He stumbled into the main area and saw the older man sitting at the dining table reading an upside-down newspaper. On the table was a pitcher of lemonade and a bowl of some sugary looking yellow balls, along with a small pile of mail.

"Good morning, Harry! I have fresh lemonade and lemon drops, made with real lemons. The lemonade is nice and pulpy. Feel free to have as much as you want" spoke an irritatingly chipper Albus.

Harry glared at the old man for daring to be in a good mood. He looked at the lemon drops and lemonade in disgust.

"Do you have anything to treat a headache?" he croaked out.

Albus lowered the newspaper and took in Harry's pale and miserable appearance before shrugging. "I can offer you lemon drops and lemonade. If you want anything else, feel free to check the kitchen. If you want a potion, I fear you will have to make it yourself."

Harry groaned miserably, and then made his way to the kitchen. He grabbed a large glass and filled it with water. He gulped down half the glass, refilled it, and then made his way back to the table to stew in his pool of agony.

For the next half hour, no sound could be heard except for the occasional turn of a page and sip of water. Harry simply sat, his eyes resting on the pitcher of lemonade. He found that his headache lessened slightly as he focused on the ice cubes' subtle movements as they floated on the top of the yellow liquid.

Eventually, his headache began to ebb into a simple mind-numbing ache, as opposed to the violently painful feeling of having his brain being smashed into the inside walls of his skull by beaters' bats. The pain in his eyes had finally disappeared completely.

With the decrease in pain, he was finally able to think about something other than his agony. Looking down, he saw a small pile of letters in front of Albus. In front of himself, there were four letters. He supposed Albus must have pushed them over during his half hour of silent misery.

"What's this?"

Albus lowered his newspaper to see what Harry was indicating.

"Ah, that would be your mail. Based on the handwriting, I would guess that they are from Miss Granger, George Weasley, Arthur Weasley, and Minerva. I apologize for the delay in their delivery, but I only got around to checking my post box just this morning."

"Post box?"

"Yes, I have it set up so that I can still receive mail while traveling. As we see the world, I will make sure that our mail gets forwarded correctly. Well, assuming people know to send letters to my post box when attempting to write to you. You could, of course, setup your own box if you desire. You would still need to let them know that it exists."

"Don't owls just… deliver directly to a person?"

"Oh, heavens no. If that were the case, then you would have been receiving fan-mail for years as a child. I suspect I would have received some sort of complaints from Petunia if she was constantly handling a huge volume of mail for you, so it's fair to say your address was not well known. And one needs to have an address when sending an owl… normally at least."

Harry, half interested in the conversation, continued to look at the soothing ice of the lemonade. "Normally?"

"There are of course exceptions, as I have found to be true whenever magic is involved. If the receiver really wants to hear from the sender, then a particularly clever owl doesn't need an address. It would also work if the owl had a deep connection with the receiver. Hedwig, for instance, is clever enough to find anyone who wants to hear from you and would likely be able to find you wherever you went." A hoot of agreement sounded from Hedwig's stand. Albus nodded towards the proud avian and continued, "of course, there are various complex spells that can be used to locate a person, and ways to prevent mail from being received. And there is Fawkes, who can find anyone, but he rarely is willing to do so even if I have reasons that I think are very valid. After the last time I insisted and he responded by setting my beard ablaze, I have learned to accept not to push him too hard." A smug trill sounded from Fawke's stand.

Harry nodded imperceptibly (moving his head being a painful activity) while staying focused on the ice. After three minutes of silence, his brain caught up with something that was said. "But… I mean… That explains why I didn't get mail while living with the Dursleys, and I guess people want their newspapers so the owls can find subscribers, but… but people knew I was at Hogwarts, so…"

Albus smiled. "Yes?"

"So… why didn't I receive fan mail at Hogwarts? Not that I wanted fan mail, I saw enough of that with Lockhart, but… why wasn't I drowning in it anyway?"

Albus chuckled. "That was a concern I had when you were about to start school. I was honestly flummoxed when you were not hit by a daily deluge. I even received letters from people asking why their letters to you couldn't be delivered. I researched the subject and came up with a guess."

Harry groaned. "Is this another one of those occasions were the answer is 'magic is weird'?"

Albus smirked. "Why would you think that?"

"I just get the feeling that whenever you are talking about guessing, you are really saying 'magic is weird, so here is my shot at an answer'"

Albus grinned. "That's… fair. So, magic is weird and here is my shot at an answer. You didn't want to receive the mail, and your mother's protection responded to your desires by thinking of fan mail as being an attack and hence blocked the delivery. Or, maybe it's because the fan mail is being sent by people who want to write to the Boy Who Lived, and you don't identify as the Boy Who Lived and therefore you confuse the magic that guides the owls. Maybe it's both or neither."

Harry sighed. "Just another way in which I am weird."

Albus shrugged. "We're all weird Harry. It's our weirdness that makes us unique individuals. I find I am much happier embracing my weirdness. I am a powerful wizard who owns a non-magical bowling alley and loves attending Star Wars conventions dressed as my favorite character, and I find great joy in that. Denying your weirdness rarely leads to happiness. In this case though, magic is the one who Is being weird, and there is little point at being annoyed at magic."

Harry shrugged silently and stared at the melting ice for another ten minutes in silence. Albus returned to reading his newspaper.

With a deep sigh, Harry picked up the envelope which had his name written in Hermione's neat handwriting. He opened the envelope, and out came several pages of parchment filled with an exceedingly small font. Harry shook his head in annoyance, winced at the throb of his headache, and began reading.

After two paragraphs, Harry frowned and began to skim through the rest of the pages. With a frustrated growl he threw the pages of the letter on top of his remaining mail, and then swept it all onto the floor.

Albus lowered his newspaper yet again, looking over his glasses at the mess on the floor and then at his table mate. There he saw Harry leaning sullenly back in his chair, rubbing his forehead. Albus folded the paper shut, set it gently on the table, and then violently swept his arm across the table to shove his own mail onto the floor. Harry looked up in surprise.

"Hmm…" spoke Albus. "I do try to keep up with the latest trends, but I must confess that I sometimes find myself at a loss as to what children find to be 'cool' these days. I will admit that the sweeping motion is satisfying, but then I am not sure how am I to go about reading my correspondence after that. What is the next step, Harry?"

Harry stared at Albus in disbelief, before rolling his eyes. Rather, he began to roll his eyes, but the motion caused his headache to flair, so the gesture was somewhat less effective than it could have been.

Harry spoke in a soft and sad voice. "She didn't apologize."

Albus leaned forward, elbows on the table with his fingers steepled. "Since I see that the only opened letter is from Miss Granger, I assume she is the one who did not apologize. What did she do that required an apology?"

Harry rubbed the moisture from his own eyes before meeting Albus's eyes. "I don't know why I am so upset, my mum helped me understand that I would be better off by separating myself from my frien… former friends. But…"

Albus smiled kindly. "But there is a world of difference between knowing what you need to do and actually doing it. What did Miss Granger do to deserve being called a former friend?"

"She said that I was the one who was petrifying everyone. That I was 'Dark' because I could speak to snakes. How can I continue to be friends with someone who thinks I would attack people like that!?"

"She actually said all of that directly to you?"

"No, she told the Weasleys that, and I overheard her."

"And what did she say when you confronted her?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer, and then closed it. After a few silent seconds he spoke. "I didn't confront her. I don't think she even knows that I know."

Albus nodded his head knowingly, as if he expected that to be the answer. "I see. When interacting directly with you, did she say or do anything that would indicate her belief in your… darkness?"

"No… but, that is no excuse!"

"Indeed, you are right. She still, at the very least, told your other friends you had gone dark. I agree that she harmed you. Whether or not you knew of it, the harm still happened. However, I wouldn't be overly surprised that she didn't apologize. For all of her apparent maturity, she is still 13 years old and it is a rare person that age who will readily admit to doing something wrong, especially when they believe they haven't been caught and admitting to the wrong might cost them something precious like a friendship."

Harry would have continued to argue, but his headache made it difficult to maintain his anger. He instead sighed and resumed staring at the ice floating atop the lemonade. Silence filled the room, until it was broken by a rumbling sound that came from Harry's stomach.

Albus chuckled. "I suppose it is near time for lunch, so I will go order something from downstairs. I will be back shortly. Feel free to have some lemonade. You seem fascinated by it, and I assure you it is even more refreshing when you drink it in addition to staring at it."

Harry ignored Albus as the man stood and walked out of the apartment. Looking down, he decided to pick up the letter from McGonagall. At least that letter seemed thin.

Dear Mister Potter,

I do hope that Professor Dumbledore has not taken too long to deliver this letter to you. He is a brilliant man, but he has an unfortunate tendency to forget about his post box when not expecting correspondence. Whenever you receive this letter, I want to assure you that it was written the morning after you left Hogwarts.

I am sorry.

I do not expect you to forgive me, as what I did to you last night was unforgivable. I let my fear and the stress of the year to overcome my good sense, and I punished you instead of rewarding you. You saved Miss Weasley's life, and I responded in anger. I am ashamed of myself.

As a way of explanation, though certainly not as an excuse, my anger stemmed from discovering how many times you put yourself in mortal peril this past year. And when you mentioned being struck by a green curse… I don't know if Professor Dumbledore explained what that was, but that moment in your story broke my sense of… well, it simply broke any sense I had. I wanted to yell at you for risking your life. I wanted to tell you that it was not your job to put your life on the line. I wanted to invoke the strictest punishment I could, to impress on you how unacceptable your behavior was. And, without stopping to consider, I followed through and gave you the strictest punishment I was empowered to dole out as Headmistress. I wish I could say I was anticipating the actions of the Board of Governors, as I initially justified my actions, but it was truly just me making a terrible decision. I am grateful that Professor Dumbledore was there to stop me from compounding my stupidity of following through on my threat of snapping your wand.

With a sleepless evening to contemplate my actions, I realize that I shoulder a great deal of the blame for your actions these past years. Over the past two years, I fear I have given you very little reason to trust me to do right by you. I punished you excessively for being out after curfew. I dismissed your concerns about the incident from the end of your first year. Had you come to me about your belief in the location of the Chamber last night, I am ashamed that I honestly can't say I would have listened to you. I am sorry that I have contributed to making Hogwarts a place where you felt you had to take on life threatening risks because you couldn't trust the staff.

I know it will be of little comfort to you, but I wanted to let you know that I have decided to decline the offer of Headmistress, assuming it is offered and I still maintain a job after how poorly I handled our last meeting. I also intend to resign from my post as Deputy Head. I will focus my attention on being the best possible Professor and Head of House. I tell all the new student that one's House is like their family, and I have failed my family. I intend to rectify that mistake.

Once again, I am sorry Mister Potter for all the pain I have caused you. Know that you are welcome to return to Hogwarts whenever you wish, as the expulsion papers were never filed. And that I am available if you ever wish to write me for any reason, be it for Transfiguration advice, or for stories regarding your parents, or to complain about your new tutor's… eccentricities. I wish you well and hope that the next step on your educational journey will bring you more joy than Hogwarts was able to provide you.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Harry read over the letter for a third time, as he heard Albus walk back into the room. He felt Albus walk up behind him, and so he angled the letter for the older man to read.

Albus sighed. "Probably for the best. I'll have to make sure that Lucius knows that he should aim to keep Minerva on staff and to not to give Severus the position of Headmaster."

Harry looked at Albus in confusion, as the man set two sandwiches on the table and took a seat. "What?"

Albus lifted his sandwich, a BLT, wafting it under his nose. "Smells delicious, as usual." He lifted his eyes towards Harry and responded to the question, "Minerva would have made a decent Headmistress, especially if she could get over her tendency to punish students while angry. Then again, she might be right that she needs to focus on her role as Head of House. Severus though… the man cannot let go of anything and would be an exceedingly poor fit for Headmaster. I would only want him with that position if the government has fallen to Tom and he's trying to minimize the damage."

Albus took a bite and smiled contentedly. Harry wanted to ask more about Snape, but his stomach grumbled again. He picked up his BLT and took a tentative sniff and then huffed in annoyance.

"Still nothing. I haven't been able to smell anything in days. This is ridiculous! Am I getting sick? Is that why I have this damned headache?"

"Is that a rhetorical question, or are you asking me?" asked Albus with a slight smile.

Harry narrowed his eyes and stared suspiciously at the man's smile.

"It was rhetorical. But now I'm asking you."

Albus placed his sandwich on his plate and sat back into his chair. "When is the last time you remember smelling something?"

Harry frowned as he thought back over the preceding days. "I don't know. It's been a week or two."

"Are you sure you can't remember complaining about an odor recently?"

"Complaining about an odor? Well… riding down Hogwart's pipes was definitely unpleasant… and I wouldn't recommend sticking your head into the mouth of an ancient basilisk… the basilisk! I complained to you when we visited that Goblin… Jeff, when we went to see Jeff. His place smelled like death. You then helped me cast that spell so I would have a bubble of fresh air around my head, so the smell wouldn't bother me anymore… but that was a week ago. There is no way that bubble is still active… right?"

Albus raised his eyebrows. "Why couldn't the bubble still be active?"

"Because…" Harry paused, trying to formulate an answer. "Because I have never learned a spell at Hogwarts where I was able to keep it going without trying to. And, I slept a lot. Though, I know older kids spell their curtains for silence overnight, so I guess there is nothing stopping a spell to work while I'm sleeping… but, still… a week seems excessive."

Albus nodded. "That is well reasoned Harry. Of course, in your later years at Hogwarts you would have learned about how to power longer lasting spells. However, you are correct about the Bubble Head Charm. It typically lasts between one to two hours, without refreshing it."

"Then why did my Bubble Head Charm last a week?"

Albus smiled broadly. "You didn't cast the Bubble Head Charm. You invented a spell and didn't include a time limit in your intention. So, your magic doesn't know that it's supposed to stop working."

Harry forgot about his headache for a moment, as his jaw slackened. "I… invented a spell?"

"Indeed."

Harry's eyes widened in concern. "Does this mean I am stuck like this forever? I'm never going to be able to smell anything again!?"

Albus chuckled, clearly struggling to keep the chuckle from escalating. "No. The spell can be dissipated."

"How?"

"Well, if I were to cast an overpowered Finite at your head, that would probably do the trick. Though that depends a bit on how much power you put into your invented spell. Oddly enough, spells cast using my unique technique normally cannot be cancelled by others. A trait that can be either useful or harmful, depending on the circumstances. You could also cast a Finite on yourself, and it would work immediately. Or, you can do it the easy way."

Harry couldn't help but grin slightly at that response. "What is the easy way?"

"The key to casting the spell in the first place was distributing your magic properly within your wand, perfectly picturing what you wanted to happen, and fully feeling the need for the spell to succeed. Since the spell was successfully cast, you just need to fully feel the need for the spell to end. It may help if you justify to yourself why you want it to end."

Harry looked at his BLT, picturing the delicious odor that he was missing out on. He closed his eyes tightly and wished that the fresh air spell would end so he could smell his BLT. His eyes opened in shock when he inhaled and immediately could smell the sandwich.

"That was… easy."

Albus shrugged. "I told you it would be. Ending one's spells is almost always easier than casting them."

Harry smiled in delight, and then slowly the smile turned into a frown.

"I've mentioned not smelling things all week long. Why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

Albus's eyes twinkled. "You didn't ask for assistance."

Harry stared at the old man in annoyance, feeling his headache ramping back up. Rubbing his head, he grumbled, "Well, what about this damned headache? Should I ask for assistance for this? Do you know what is causing it?"

Albus leaned forward, his eyes twinkling away as he smiled in a way that clearly indicated the man was enjoying himself. "I'm glad you asked, Harry. I do know the cause. You looked at magic last night. You perceived something visually that was never meant to be seen by human eyes. Your mind is now coping with the aftermath. The aftermath is always painful."

"A warning would have been nice."

"Yes" Albus laughed. "Yes, I imagine it would have been. It's a pity you chose to go to bed without asking me any questions about the magic you observed last night."

Harry glared at the old man. "Is there a cure for the headache?"

Albus nodded. "Yes, there is. It took me a decade of trial and error, but I figured out at least one cure. For all I know, there is another cure out there that is more effective. I will tell you right now that a normal headache potion makes the pain ten times worse. However, considering sight and magic perception appear to be conflicting elements, I used the working theory that a solution could be found in utilizing other conflicting elements. What you need is a combination of sweet and sour, liquid and solid, warm and cold, visual and edible, with the yellow of the sun, and citrus for some reason."

Harry put the combinations together in his mind, looked at the table, and couldn't help but bark out a laugh.

"So, the cure is…"

"Pulpy ice-cold lemonade with a room temperature lemon drop, while making sure to look at the yellow elements until the pain in the eyes disappears."

Harry quickly ate a lemon drop and downed a glass of lemonade. His headache immediately diminished to a dull ache that was easily ignorable.

Harry sighed in delight. Now that the pain was mostly gone, he could see the humor in the situation. "Much better! So, out of curiosity, did you have a reason for letting me suffer like that? Or was it just for your amusement?"

Albus smiled. "You may want to try a couple more lemon drops, I have never managed to find the right cure to fully remove the headache, but usually three lemon drops with a glass lemonade is what it takes to minimize the pain to the lowest it will go. Funnily enough, I discovered the soothing nature of the color yellow early on in my quest to see magic. But I hated lemons and was not a fan of sweets due to an unfortunate encounter with a Bertie Botts Every Flavor Bean, so it took me longer than necessary to stumble upon this solution. And, yes, I did have another reason. Though it was amusing to make bets in my head for how long you would ignore the salvation sitting right in front of you."

Harry dutifully downed two more lemon drops, and felt the pain subside further. The fact that Albus had suffered this for a decade made it much easier to not hold a grudge. "So, what was your other reason?"

"I'm your tutor, Harry. As such, I want you to be intellectually curious, and willing to ask for help when seeking answers. And as a person who cares about you, I don't want you to suffer in silence. I want you to confront your pain head on and seek help when you can. You sat in pain in for over two hours, simply because you assumed that I was being unhelpful and then you didn't confront me about my ignoring your obvious pain. When we went to go make a deal on the basilisk, you didn't ask any questions about the plan to make you a small fortune. In short, I was trying to teach you the importance of asking questions."

Harry took a bite of his BLT, and silently processed Albus's answers. After swallowing, Harry nodded slowly.

"I'll try to ask more questions. Though I will get you back someday."

Albus smiled. "Thank you, Harry. I look forward to seeing how you escalate our prank war."

Harry took another bite of his sandwich, feeling an odd warmness filling his heart and a smile forming on his face. As he finished his last bite, a thought came to him.

"Albus… if you can see magic, then why didn't you know that Quirrell had Voldemort on the back of his head. Also, shouldn't you have seen the cursed diary sooner?"

Albus sipped his lemonade thoughtfully before answering. "The answer is the same as why I don't often adjust my magic to match wards, like I did last night with the Malfoys. It's a pain to use the ability, and so I limit how often I do it. I usually take a quick look at everybody right before the opening feast of the year, but then I only use it when doing personal research, training my magic, or if there is a specific reason to do so. From what I saw, Tom hadn't attached himself to Quirinus before the opening feast and Miss Weasley must have had the diary in her luggage as I didn't see its taint in the Great Hall that evening."

"I thought the lemon drops and lemonade removed the pain."

Albus smiled. "They help with the next day's pain. You had the glasses last night, so they acted as a buffer. Additionally, I was wrapping you in magic and adjusting my magic, so that also acted as a buffer. Normally, activating one's ability to see magic is accompanied by feeling as if one has white hot knitting needles stabbing one's eyeballs. Adjusting one's magic to match a ward makes one's nerve endings feel like they are being scraped with a cheese grater, where each additional adjustment ramps up the pain. I can get up to around 40 adjustments before passing out from the pain. Anything more than 30 adjustments though is pushing me to the point where I start to become useless in a fight. Of course, adjusting one's magic properly also requires one to already be feeling the searing pain of looking at magic, so you can probably understand why it's rare for anyone to have either ability."

Harry stared at Albus in horror. "But… you didn't act like you were in pain last night."

Albus shrugged. "Oh, it was pure agony Harry. But, decades of practice have allowed me to compartmentalize the pain where I can function as if I am not even remotely uncomfortable. It was a useful skill to have for the one time that Tom tagged me with a Cruciatus torture curse, and I responded as if it had no effect. He was so unnerved that he fled the battle and that is when I got the reputation as the only person he ever feared."

Harry wasn't sure if he should be impressed or scared for Albus's sanity. "Could you have broken Malfoy's wards, instead of putting yourself through so much pain?"

"Easily, yes. Not quietly, of course. But I could have done that."

"Then, why did you do the more painful option?"

Albus smiled. "That is an excellent question, Harry! While I could have shattered his wards, and we will have to do a field trip sometime so you can learn how to shatter wards with a minimum of effort, I could have also used Fawkes to bypass all the wards in the first place. Well, assuming Fawkes was willing. Neutralizing Lucius as a threat was my third and least important goal for the evening. The curse on him and Narcissa could be performed anywhere. The secondary goal was to give you a chance to see the look of terror on his face when he realized that there was nothing that he could ever do to escape me. It's why I gave him a week to prepare, just to hammer the message home. I figured, after the pain he caused you this year, that you would enjoy a little bit of petty payback."

Harry couldn't help but grinning at the memory. "And the primary reason?"

"I wanted you to see how awesome magic can be, as long as you are willing to explore its uncharted waters."

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "Well… I certainly believe that magic can be even more awesome than I thought. Also, pretty damn terrifying too."

Albus smiled brightly. "Excellent! Now what do you say to relaxing for today by watching the Star Wars trilogy? You haven't seen it yet, and I want to see if you can guess at who my favorite character is. Tomorrow we can begin the first leg of our exploration of the world. I'm thinking France."

Harry looked at Albus's back as the man made his way over to the VCR. He couldn't help but feel a growing respect for the old man. But still, he couldn't help but ask, "has anyone ever questioned your sanity before?"

Albus laughed, as he picked up the first cassette sitting on top of the VCR. "According to my brother, I lost it sometime in the 1890s."

Harry smiled and looked down as he prepared to stand. There he saw the pages of Hermione's letter spread across the floor. He sighed. He supposed if Albus could handle unimaginable physical pain for an educational field trip, Harry could handle the mild discomfort of confronting one of the sources of his emotional pain.

"Give me a minute Albus, I'm going to write a quick letter to Hermione. I just need…"

Before Harry could finish his sentence, a page of parchment, envelope, quill, and pot of ink flew from Albus's room and landed gently in front of Harry.

"Thank you!"

He dipped his quill and began to write. There was so much he wanted to say, but in the end, he decided to live by Albus's lesson for the day and simply directly asked his questions. Besides, he just didn't feel like his fri… former friend was worth wasting the time he could spend watching Star Wars with Albus.

Hermione,

I heard you talking to the Weasleys. How could you think I was a Dark Wizard? How could you think I could attack my fellow students? How could you treat a friend like that?

Harry

He sealed the letter and handed it to Hedwig. She gave him an affectionate nip. He walked to the couch, where he saw Albus walking from the kitchen with a bowl of unpopped popcorn kernels. With a tap of a wand, each kernel popped into a perfect piece of popcorn. Harry took the bowl gratefully as he sat down to watch as large letters to scrolled up the screen.

One thought ran through Harry's mind as he relaxed into the couch.

Joy!

6. Chapter 6

Harry yawned widely as he walked next to Albus through King's Cross Station.

"Albus, it is six in the morning. Why are we here so early? Also, why are we at King's Cross? I thought you were just going to…" Harry paused as he looked around the distinctly non-magical station and lowered his voice into a whisper. "…going to use a faster travel method."

Albus smiled pleasantly. "We are here to take the European international train on Platform 8 2/3, and we are here early because we need to time to ensure your travel papers are in order. And we are not taking the faster travel method you are alluding to, because I would rather not make use of the less than legal international travel methods unless it is needed. Finally, Harry, as a tip for acting in an unsuspicious manner, it is best not to pause mid-sentence and then look around for possible eavesdroppers. It merely draws attention to you."

Harry winced slightly. "I'll keep that in mind. I just didn't know that there were magi… special trains in addition to the one to school."

Albus chuckled. "Of course, there are more trains. The cost of maintaining and updating the wards on the station would be prohibitive if they were only used a handful of times a year. They are only for international destinations, as the Knight Bus is a far more cost-effective means of transport domestically."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "Wow! What wards? And should we be talking about this with so many people around?"

Albus gestured for Harry to stand near a metal barrier so they could talk without being in the way.

"It's fine to talk openly, just try not to speak too loudly. Before I answer your question, let's see if you can figure it out on your own. When getting onto Platform 9 ¾, how do you avoid detection by the non-magical travelers in the station."

Harry shrugged. "I guess that we're supposed to just be subtle about it. I mean, in my first year I saw that Percy and the twins just walked through casually."

"And did you walk through casually?"

"No… I was told to run through if I was feeling nervous. So, I ran through."

Albus nodded knowingly. "That is a common approach for first time students coming from the non-magical world. And how do students exit from the magical side to the non-magical side?"

"They just… I don't know, they just walk through… casually?"

"Very true Harry, that is how most students do it. Despite their questionable casualness, do you see a problem there?"

Harry had started to suspect the problem when he first thought about running through the barrier, so his answer came immediately. "We're not really being subtle, are we? We're just disappearing and reappearing in plain sight. But, wouldn't people just dismiss that as a trick of the eyes?"

Albus smiled with a pleased chuckle. "That is an excellent question, and I want you to keep that in mind. Yes, most people will ignore it. But…?"

Harry frowned in concentration and spoke slowly as he formulated his answer. "But… 'most' is not 'all', so that means… some people will not ignore it. Since students board the train over a period of hours, a muggle could easily see over a dozen people and carts disappearing. I know that would be enough to pique my interest. Oh! And we do it the same day every year, so they could even bring more witnesses. Living with Dursleys really taught me how much people like to gossip, so that could easily get out of hand. Just someone with a video camera would be enough to reveal the secret of our world to the muggle world!"

Albus patted the shoulder of a visibly upset Harry.

"Calm down, Harry. You have figured out the primary concern, so why should you not be worried?"

Harry took a deep breath and let his body relax. After a minute of silence, a small smile formed on his lips. "We haven't been caught yet after… how long?"

"Over a century"

"Right, so if we were going to be caught here, it would have been long ago. So, those wards work… I guess. What do they do?"

Albus gestured to the small stream of people passing by them and standing nearby. "I already gave you a hint, but here is another one. We have been talking openly about magic for several minutes. Do you see anyone paying attention?"

Harry looked closer at the muggles and noticed one woman get a confused look on her face as Albus mentioned magic. The woman's face cleared, followed by a chuckle and amused shake of her head as she continued walking. He then thought about the question he was supposed to keep in mind, and he looked over at a man standing nearby who was likely waiting for a train. Keeping his focus on the man, Harry spoke loud enough to ensure the man could overhear.

"Hogwarts is a school where people learn how to perform magic."

The man shot a confused look at Harry, but then shrugged as his face cleared and then went back to waiting for his train as if Harry had said nothing. Harry smiled in understanding.

"I said 'some' is not 'all'. The ward turns that 'some' into an 'all', doesn't it?"

Albus smiled with a look of pride on his face. "Wonderfully reasoned, Harry. You are correct. The wards heighten people's disbelief in magic so they will dismiss any talk of real magic or mild demonstrations of magic. Though, the protections would likely be insufficient for any excessive displays like say, as a random example, a pair of children flying a car. For minor instances however, any observers will simply dismiss what they saw as being some odd thing that doesn't deserve any extra attention. Well, unless the observer is magical or has been temporarily keyed into the wards like a non-magical guardian of a Hogwarts student."

Harry nodded and then huffed in irritation. "Just another thing Hagrid forgot to tell me. It would have been nice to know about this when I couldn't figure out how to find Platform 9 3/4."

Albus chuckled lightly. "I'm not sure Hagrid knows about the wards. We certainly don't tell any of the students. It's not exactly a secret, but we tend not to spread it around either."

"Why don't you tell the students?"

"Why don't we tell a large group of children, who are still developing impulse control and who are also eager to start using magic, that they can technically start casting without fear while still on the non-magical side of the station? It's a mystery beyond my reasoning I'm afraid."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I think I liked you better as the unreachable and mysterious Headmaster, instead of as a sarcastic tutor."

Albus smirked. "I suppose I shall have to learn to live with your disappointment in me. Come, let us make our way to our platform."

As they started walking, Harry glanced at Albus with a curious expression. "So, if it's not widely shared information, how do people find out about the wards?"

Albus shrugged. "Outside of being told for their jobs in law enforcement or as administrators at Hogwarts, it is mainly concerned parents who discover the truth. I usually received one or two letters every year where a parent told me how their student spoke about magic while standing near the platform entrance and they noticed a non-magical stranger was standing too close. Those parents were of course scared that their child would have legal problems and they needed advice on how to proceed while protecting their child. I then tell them that the standard Auror response is that the child gets a firm warning, and I inform the parents about the protections at the station."

Albus laughed lightly as he continued. "Though, in Molly's case, it was a panicked Floo Call instead of the standard letter. She can be quite the force of nature when she takes a mind to do so."

Harry looked at Albus in surprise. "Do you mean Mrs. Weasley? Did the twins do something?"

Albus's eyes twinkled in delight. "They do seem like likely suspects, but no. Molly was the one who did something that she thought was wrong. It was years ago, when she was bringing her eldest, Bill, to his first train ride to Hogwarts. She was harried as she was there with all seven of her children, and I guarantee you that handling five children aged six years and younger is a nearly impossible feat. Add a hyper first year student and a nine-year-old younger brother, Charlie, who is throwing a temper tantrum about not wanting to be separated from his older brother… It's fair to say that Molly was not in a great mental state. So, she loudly reminded her children to be calm because the station was, and I quote, 'packed with muggles'. And, just to help calm down Charlie, she tried to make him feel more involved in Bill's trip by asking him which platform they were looking for. Which of course led to Charlie loudly proclaiming the words 'Platform 9 ¾'. That night, after putting her children to bed, she realized what she had done and called me in a panic about how she had broken the Statute of Secrecy. She was in tears about how they couldn't afford a fine, or even worse she terrified of being sentence to prison time."

Albus smiled wistfully, lost in memory. "It took some time, but I was able to calm her down and explain how the wards. Once calmed down, her mood made an immediate about face, which is very common for her. She then started joking about how talking about muggles and asking the most upset child for the platform number was an extremely effective parenting technique. Before ending the call, she was seriously considering reusing that technique until her youngest child finally started Hogwarts. Of course, I honestly don't know if she ended up following through on that idea."

Harry smiled at the bittersweet memory of that first meeting with the Weasley matriarch.

With that, the two walked through a metal barrier and arrived on a sparsely populated platform, where a silver passenger train sat patiently. Albus tapped Harry's head and chest with his wand, as they headed to a booth simply labeled "HELP".

"Hello Jonathan, how are you doing this fine morning?" Albus asked the middle-aged wizard manning the booth.

Jonathan smiled warmly at Albus. "Headmaster! This is a surprise. Did Hogwarts let out early this year?"

"Oh no, the school year is still on schedule as far as I know. I have simply decided to take a sabbatical and am showing my young ward some of the wonders of the world. I have filled in the paperwork. I just need you to finish up the proper signatures to allow him to travel out of the country."

"Sure thing, Headmaster. Just hand them over."

Albus handed the papers over and that man quickly reviewed the bureaucratic red tape, before pausing and flipping back to the first page. He looked up at Harry, and then back at Albus.

"Your ward's legal name is Harry James Potter?"

Albus simply nodded and shrugged in a way that seemed to convey amusement and resignation. Meanwhile, Harry prepared himself for the normal reaction of being examined like some sort of interesting zoo animal. The man's eyes did travel to Harry's scar, but then quickly moved down to Harry's chest, followed by the man chuckling.

"I simply don't understand kids these days. I mean, I have heard of kids wanting to be Harry Potter themselves, but this… well, as long as it's legal and you vouch for him, Albus…"

Jonathan signed and stamped the papers. As he handed them back to Albus, he looked over and spoke to Harry. "Better luck next time, 'Harry'. You may want to try tidying your hair up and replacing those glasses, they're completely wrong."

Before Harry could respond, Albus spoke up as he shuffled Harry off to the train. "Thank you, Jonathan, he will certainly take that to heart. Wish your family good health for me."

"Will do, Headmaster! Have a good trip!"

The pair made their way on to the train and found an empty compartment to sit down in. Once settled, Harry's confusion bubbled over.

"What the hell just happened out there?"

Albus chuckled and conjured a mirror for Harry.

Harry sighed and looked at his reflection. It looked… like him. It was just plain old Harry… except something seemed slightly off. He looked at his hair and glasses, they were in their normal state. He then allowed himself to look at his hated scar and… what?

"Why does my scar look like someone drew over it with thick red lipstick that has been smudged?"

"Look at your chest."

Harry looked down to see a badge stuck to his shirt. Once he read it, he felt his eyes roll of their accord as he looked back up at Albus.

"Annual Harry Potter Look-A-Like Contest, 2012, 3rd place. Really, Albus!?"

"Well, maybe you'll do better next time in the upcoming contest this year if you take care of your lack of Harry Potter's signature hairstyle and glasses."

Harry leaned back into his seat and pinched his nose in irritation.

"So, that man thinks that I'm not the real Harry Potter, I'm just some obsessive Harry Potter fanatic who legally changed my name to be more like my idol?"

Albus shrugged. "Hopefully."

"Why lie to him?"

"Technically, I did not lie. Everything I said was true. Remember that if anyone asks. Now, I lied to Jonathan because I had received a letter from Cornelius where he was panicked about your leaving Hogwarts and begging me to convince you to return to 'where you belong'. I wouldn't put it past him or one of his subordinates to put out orders to not allow people like Jonathan from approving the paperwork to grant you the legal right to international travel. Of course, I wouldn't have been afraid to bypass Jonathan to insure you got your desired freedom, but needlessly breaking or massaging the law is a bit of a hassle."

Harry nodded in understanding. "OK… I can see why you did that. But, couldn't you have gotten my paperwork approved without embarrassing me like that?"

Albus smiled innocently. "Certainly, and with great ease."

Harry watched as Albus pulled out his trunk, expanding it. He waited patiently for the older man to pull out whatever the other option had been. His waiting proved useless when Albus pulled out a newspaper, flipped it upside down, and began to read.

"Well!?"

Albus, lowered the newspaper to meet Harry's eyes. "What?"

"What was the other way you could have gotten my paperwork approved?"

"Since my resignation will be active tomorrow, I am still Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards. The Chief Warlock has the authority to authorize international travel, provided that the British representative to the ICW approves and gets the agreement of the Supreme Mugwump."

Harry looked at Albus with growing annoyance. "So, you would have been able to sign the paperwork yourself?"

"Yes. It would have been tremendously unethical of me, and I would have had to sign in three different places, but it was possible."

"Wasn't it unethical to lie to Jonathan?"

"Absolutely! But I spared my wrist from having to sign a form in three different places."

"You… you chose to dress me as a Harry Potter fanatic just to avoid signing a form three times?"

"Of course not, Harry. That would be rather lazy of me."

Harry looked at the twinkling eyes of the man, breathed deeply, and pressed on. "Then, please tell me, why did you decide to take the route that would embarrass me?"

Albus clearly repressed a grin before responding. "The lesser answer is that I wanted to show you that it was possible to use your fame to hide in plain sight."

Harry's eyes widened slightly, as his irritation had blinded him from the truth of that statement. After a few moments, his mind reparsed Albus's answer and his eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"And what is the major answer?"

Albus smirked as he shrugged. "I have to find my entertainment somewhere."

With that, Albus raised his newspaper and blocked Harry from his view. Harry stared at where the man's face would be with a sense of fond annoyance.

"You know, when I learn enough, I will start getting you back for all of your pranks."

Albus did not lower his newspaper but did respond with a pleased tone of voice. "I look forward to that day, Harry. As you come up with ideas, feel free to ask for my assistance in focusing your studies into whichever areas you think might help you in achieving your pranking vengeance. Oh, and if you intend to follow through on your plans to contact Remus, he might be willing to assist you."

Harry chuckled as he relaxed into his seat.

After half an hour of Harry conjuring increasingly complex plans for pranks on Albus, the silence was interrupted by a knock on the compartment door. Albus lowered his newspaper to look towards the entrance to the compartment, as it was opened by an elderly tall blonde witch.

"Hello Genevieve, how are you doing today?"

Genevieve smiled in delight.

"Professor Dumbledore! Oh, this is a pleasant surprise. I wasn't expecting you for at least another week. I am doing wonderfully as always. I'm thinking this weekend's free trip to visit Sweden again. Thank you again for getting me this job!"

Albus shook his head in resignation. "My dear, it's been more than a few decades since I put in a good word for you. You really don't need to keep thanking me every time you see me."

Genevieve laughed airily before responding. "And I have ignored you for all these years. When are you going to accept that I am going to keep thanking you?"

Albus chuckled. "I guess we will see if one of us has given up by the next time we meet."

Genevieve beamed. "Yes, we'll see if you finally have seen reason by then. So, where to today?"

Albus handed a pair of tickets to the pleasant woman. "The both of us are on our way to Paris."

"Oh, Paris! I haven't done a Paris trip in over a year. I hope you and…"

Genevieve looked over at Harry, taking in his button and smudged lipstick scar, and held back a laugh (though she did produce a small snort of amusement).

"Sorry about that. I hope you and 'Harry' here have a wonderful trip. We're making a stop in Germany and Spain first, so you are looking at somewhere between half an hour to a full hour. Take care Professor."

"Thank you my dear, you as well."

Genevieve the looked at Harry. "It was nice meeting you 'Harry'. As a piece of advice, work on your posture. Everyone knows the Boy Who Lived has perfect posture. Better luck next time!"

Harry stared at the door as it closed, then looked over at Albus, who quickly raised up his newspaper (though not fast enough to hide the look of pure amusement on his face).

Harry closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. "I sometimes hate you. You know that, right?"

"You have mentioned that, yes. And for what it is worth I am sorry about the badge."

"Thank y…"

"Had I noticed your posture I wouldn't have given you such an unrealistically high placement as 3rd place. Maybe next time we'll use a 5th place badge?"

Harry stared at the man as he lowered his newspaper to catch Harry's eyes. Harry couldn't stop the laugh from escaping his lips.

Harry grinned after his laughter ceased. "I think I deserve at least 4th place."

Albus grinned back. "Hmmm, very ambitious. We'll see how you progress."

After several pleasant minutes, Harry felt the train lurch forward. He felt happy and excited as he looked out the window to see the station start to fall behind the train. After five minutes, Harry found himself wondering how they were supposed to reach Germany, Spain, and France in less than an hour.

With a loud bang, the landscape outside changed suddenly. After another minute, there was another loud bang and the landscape changed again. Bang! Traveling through a forest. Bang! Exiting a tunnel in a mountain. Bang! Traveling by the sea. Bang! Traveling through a city.

Within ten minutes, they were pulling into a train station in Munich, Germany.

As the passengers began to enter and exit the train, Harry looked to Albus.

"If trains can travel this fast, why does the Hogwarts Express take so long?"

Albus lowered his newspaper and began to put it away as he answered. "That is an interesting question, Harry. One that comes up every decade or so. The answer is somewhat related to why we have the wards around King's Cross Station. Dozens of children who have been denied the use of magic all summer and who are reuniting with their friends, enemies, and romantic partners for the first time in months, need time to burn off their energy. Of course, there are practical reasons like briefing the new Prefects and giving them a chance to get a patrol under their belt. Also, it helps the professors to get their last-minute plans finalized. But primarily it is because it gives the children a chance to catch up, reignite their pointless rivalries, revel in some chaperone free opportunities to enjoy their romance of the month, cast reckless magic, and transition to the more controlled environment of Hogwarts."

Harry frowned. "I am sure you could get the same sort of results if students just arrived earlier in the day."

Albus nodded. "That is the counter-argument that is often given. But, then the portraits of Headmasters past start chiming in. According to them, before the Hogwarts Express came into being, the children arrived early, and the first week of education was all but lost every year. I think there is something about the open spaces of Hogwarts that let students take their time in calming down for school. Cramming the students together really does the trick. For those unconvinced, we then mention the cost of updating the Express and they no longer seem to care enough to push the issue."

Harry stared at Albus, not quite believing the answer. But he also found he didn't truly care enough to push the issue. Thinking of Hogwarts however reminded him of the two remaining letters in his pocket. Deciding to get it out of the way, he pulled out the letter from Arthur Weasley.

Five minutes later, he put the letter down. There was nothing truly special to be found within the pages. It contained expressions of profuse gratitude and promises to someday find a way of repaying Harry for saving Ginny's life. While he had never previously received a letter from a parent thanking him for saving their child's life and the risk of his own, he would be willing to wager that this would easily meet the standard for that specific subgenre of letters. It was also clear from what was written that Mr. Weasley did not know about how his children had abandoned Harry, and he seemed to believe that Harry left Hogwarts voluntarily instead of having been expelled. That annoyance aside, it was a nice letter. As little as it had happened in his life, it was nice to be thanked for doing something.

As Harry folded up the letter, he looked out the window to see the last passenger boarding and the doors closing. He contemplated informing Mr. Weasley about the behavior of his children, but as the train pulled forward, Harry decided he just didn't care enough to write a response. Chuckling, he decided that if Albus couldn't be hassled to sign a form in three places, Harry could decide not to be hassled to write a full letter.

With that, the train began its series of bangs and rapid jumps.

Ten minutes later, they were pulling into a train station in Madrid, Spain. It was hard to believe that last night he was watching Star Wars in a bowling alley, and now he was about to visit his first foreign country.

As he waited for the passengers to finish entering and exiting, he looked over at Albus who was gazing out the window himself.

"I forgot to ask last night. Who was your favorite Star Wars character? It was Obi Wan, right? He's the older teacher who teaches his student how to use Space Magic and is OK with telling lies. Well, he technically tells the truth, but is really lying. Or, maybe Yoda!? For… really the same reasons, except he also likes to prank Luke."

Albus smiled. "I do identify with both characters, true. I also identify with Vader, for… well I like the idea that a person can go dark and still be redeemed by their love of family. Alas, none of those three are my favorite."

Harry paused, deep in thought. "Would it be… Han? You do have an apparent disregard for the rule of law."

Albus chuckled lightly as he shook his head in disagreement.

"… Chewbacca? Because you're very hairy and I can rarely understand you clearly?"

Albus laughed outright at that, causing him to take half a minute to catch his breath and shake his head.

"Then, who?"

Albus's eyes twinkled as he smiled broadly. "C-3P0. He's an expert in his field, and yet is forced to take part in activities outside of his preferred duties. He constantly complains and can't help but find the negatives in any situation. Honestly, if you just have him be a little meaner and complaining about anyone named Potter, you have yourself a Golden Droid version of Severus Snape. One of the great joys I will miss is when Severus begins ranting at me, and I imagine him talking with C-3P0's voice."

Harry stared at Albus, as his mind flew back over the years. He began remembering his conversations with the loathsome man, but with him speaking in C-3P0's voice.

"Ah yes, Harry Potter. Our new… celebrity."

"Library books are not to be taken outside of the school."

"One million points from Gryffindor!"

Harry began to laugh, as Albus watched on bemused. Several minutes later, he calmed down and looked back up at Albus.

"Well, now I'm going to try to only remember him talking like that. Although, now I want to figure out a way to actually make him sound like that for a day."

Albus grinned. "If you are serious about that, remind me of it tomorrow and I can begin to put together a study plan that will let you modify how people talk."

Harry smiled in delight. The twins would love hearing about the sort of lessons he was getting!

Harry's smile faltered and then morphed into a frown. He reached into his pocket for the letter that Albus said was from George. He didn't hold out a lot of hope for what it contained, but he supposed it was best to get it out of the way before arriving in Paris. With a sigh, as the train began to pull forward, he opened the letter.

Harry,

Fred and George here. When we found out that you had left Hogwarts and were going off with Dumbledore, we tried to send a letter to you a few times. The owls just didn't want to make the journey. We were so desperate that we even went to go see… a professor!

We know! That doesn't seem like us, voluntarily talking to anyway in authority, but you are worth it mate. Now that McGonagall has given us Dumbledore's post address, we just hope you eventually read this letter.

Mate, we are total and utter prats. You needed us to be there for you, and we abandoned you. Growing up, we would be told stories where the evil Parselmouth would send his snakey minions to do all sorts of evil deeds. And then, when we found out you could speak to snakes, it freaked us out. But we knew you and knew that all those stories were just stories. And then… someone showed us a book that said that Parselmouths can't help but be evil, and… mate we went all Percy on you! We put books in front of friendship. We are so sorry, Harry!

Even if we didn't already feel like we were the worst people in the world after you saved our sister, despite our horrible treatment of you, we would still want to apologize to you. If you were here, we would have done it in person. We can not apologize enough. Sorry!

Of course, thank you for saving Ginny! We can't believe…

As the train banged and jumped along to their destination in Paris, Harry finished reading the letter. The twins began to meander a great deal, profusely apologizing and thanking him at every turn. They did go off on the odd tangent here and there, mainly guessing at what sort of magic Dumbledore was going to teach and offering to prank anyone that Harry requested. Clearly, writing apology letters fell well outside their comfort zone.

As the train started to pull into the Paris station, Harry thought on what he had read.

They had admitted, unprompted, they were in the wrong, though they didn't mention Hermione as being the provider of the book that said Harry was evil. Then again, he wasn't sure if he wanted them to call out Hermione or not. Would he have felt that they were trying to shift blame? Would he have felt that they were showing his friendship was less important than Hermione's friendship? Albus brought up Remus earlier, and Remus was the victim of a friendship falling apart because of fear. Should he forgive the twins because fear had made them stupid? Would he… he didn't even know all the questions he had floating though his mind.

The train came to a stop as Harry's mind raced. He stood mechanically, not even fully noting when Albus tapped Harry's head and chest with his wand.

As they walked off the train and into the station, Albus spoke up.

"Would you like to speak about George's letter, Harry?"

Harry sighed as Albus directed him to a blank section of wall on the platform. "I just… I think I want to forgive the twins… but, I also want them to pay for abandoning me… and… and…"

"And you don't know what to do. I understand. Well, take as much time as you need to figure out if you want to forgive them. There is no rush. You're about to enter your first foreign country, and you should enjoy it."

"I… guess…"

Albus put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "As for punishing them, I was saving this for the right moment, but I can teach you the trick to identifying the twins with perfect accuracy. By face, voice, or writing."

Harry felt the corners of his lips slightly tick upwards. That would… that would drive them crazy. Maybe, just maybe, he might be able to keep a couple of friends from Hogwarts, even if by letter. He'd sleep on it, but his heart felt lighter.

As his shoulders relaxed, he felt Albus's hand squeeze. He concentrated on his cure for apparition discomfort, and after a quick and comfortable trip he looked at his new location. A grimy and pungent darkened alleyway.

Walking out, he found all thoughts fled from his mind.

There, a short walk away, stood the Eifel Tower.

He didn't know much about France, but he knew that one landmark.

He was in France!

He was in a different country!

Holy Crap!

7. Chapter 7

The first day in Paris had been amazing. Harry had no idea what anyone was saying, including Albus who spoke French fluently. He had no idea what anything was (except for the Eiffel tower). He had no idea where to go, so he simply roamed the streets without any set destination. He waited in a long line to ride to the top of the Eiffel tower, where various people wandered up to sell suspiciously cheap looking souvenirs for prices much higher than they appeared to deserve. And the only people who looked over at Harry appeared to only be looking at him in response to him gaping at everything while in pure "tourist" mode. It was wonderful!

It helped that Albus had made it clear that they could stay for as long as Harry liked, and there was no hurry to take in all the sights at once. Albus never complained or suggested any sort of destination. When they stopped for breakfast, Harry enjoyed his very first crepe (he had his second crepe for lunch). Albus ordered and paid, while Harry talked excitedly at the old man. It wouldn't be until weeks later that Harry would realize that he had never given Albus a chance to say a single word, nor did the man seem overly perturbed by the one-sided conversations of the day.

After a long day, and an early dinner of an onion pizza, Albus apparated them to the gates of an estate in Bordeaux.

Albus turned toward Harry, looking down at the smiling boy. "I take it you had a good day, Harry?"

Harry's smile threatened to split his face in half. "It was… fantastic! It was like the first time I went into Diagon Alley. Everything was just so… different, and beautiful, and delicious, and… and where are we?"

Albus chuckled. "This is the estate of my friend Pierre. I assisted his father back in the war against Gellert, and he was kind enough to allow us the use of a couple of his guest rooms for as long as we are in France. His wards have noticed our arrival, so he should be at the gates soon enough."

Harry nodded, but was interrupted from responding by the sudden appearance of a pleasant looking man with curly brown hair, sharp features, and eyes that spoke of a life filled with laughter. Next to the man stood a House Elf dressed in a deep blue, immaculate pillowcase. The elf stood with a straight back, which contrasted with what Harry remembered of Dobby's stooped posture.

"ALBUS!" the man shouted in joy, followed by a string of French that Harry could not understand. Albus replied in turn, and then swept his arm to point to Harry.

The man turned to Harry with a smile, extending his hand as he began to speak in accented English. Harry accepted the man's hand and shook it.

"Ah, Mister Potter. It is wonderful to meet you. I am Pierre Bordale, and I am happy to welcome you to my home. As you are a guest and here with Albus, please call me Pierre."

"Thank you, Pierre. Thank you for letting us stay with you. It is a beautiful house. And, please call me Harry."

Pierre chuckled kindly. "Like I would deny Albus. My father would take the first portkey back from his house where he has retired in Canada to give me a lecture the likes of which I have not experienced since I was a small child. Oh, this is my House Elf, Jean, feel free to ask him for anything while you are here. Though he doesn't speak English so you may need to ask Albus to translate for you."

Jean perked up, and asked Pierre something. Pierre's eyebrows rose and looked back to Harry.

"Jean wants to know if the House Elf, currently standing disillusioned behind you, will be staying with us."

Harry's eyes widened in shock as he spun around to look at the empty space behind him.

"Dobby? Is that you? Are you there?"

Where there was empty space, there was now an excited House Elf bouncing on his heels staring back at Harry with undiluted reverence. Dobby was still wearing his dingy pillowcase, with the addition of two silken green socks adorning his feet.

"Harry Potter sir freed Dobby! Harry Potter sir is the greatest wizard in the world! Dobby be knowing Harry Potter sir be wanting to call Dobby, so Dobby be waiting nearby for Harry Potter sir! Harry Potter sir is…"

Harry put up his hand to stop the excitable House Elf, who stopped speaking but quivered in anticipation.

"Wait! Dobby, how long have you been following me?"

Albus spoke up. "He's been following us since he was freed. Was the broom closet at my apartment comfortable, Dobby?"

Dobby nodded his head vigorously. "Oh, yes! Dobby thanks Tutor Albussy for the House Elf bed."

"My pleasure, Dobby. And feel free to not be so formal, Albussy will suffice. What did you think of Star Wars?"

Dobby grinned. "Oh! Dobby liked it, Albussy. Dobby liked R2-D2, he would have been a good Elf!"

Harry looked at the two in shock. "You knew he was there?"

"Of course, I knew, I think you know I can detect House Elf magic. Not that it was a surprise, as I knew he would be waiting for you to call him after you gave him the gift of freedom that he so desperately craved."

"But you freed him."

Dobby shook his head in adamant denial. "Dobby knows that Albussy is Harry Potter sir's good servant, and so Dobby knows Harry Potter sir is responsible for Dobby being free. Harry Potter sir is the most modest wizard ever!"

Harry sighed as he shook his head. After a deep breath, he looked back at a bemused Pierre. "Would you mind if Dobby stayed with us?"

Pierre chuckled. "I suspect that Dobby will be staying with us, regardless of my opinion, so of course I am happy for him to join. I will explain things to Jean."

Dobby whooped in joy. After that was resolved, the trio were led to the guest rooms (and guest House Elf room, which was a well-appointed broom closet). An amused Pierre and polite Jean wished them a good evening, as Harry felt his exhaustion catching up with him and collapsed into a comfortable king-sized bed.

The next morning, Harry, Albus, and Pierre had breakfast together. Harry assumed that Dobby and Jean were off doing their own things. As he finished his breakfast, his mind wandered and daydreamed of how he would enjoy another day in Paris, which then brought him to one of the downsides to the trip.

"Albus, is there a quick way for me to learn French?"

Albus put down his ever-present upside-down morning newspaper, took a drink of his lemonade, and looked at Harry thoughtfully. Pierre relaxed into his chair, though he also seemed interested in the answer.

"Well, Harry, I have found the most effective method is something we have already partially started. Simply immerse yourself in the language. Force yourself to avoid your native language and your innate desire to understand and be understood will help you focus on learning the language. If you are open to classes during your vacation, I can provide you with an hour of lessons each morning before we head off to explore the country."

"But, isn't there a magical way to speed things up? Can't you just… I don't know… jam it into my brain magically?"

Albus's eyes twinkled as he smiled. "There is a slightly risky shortcut. After all, you are hardly the first person who has wanted to skip the learning process like that. What we do is we take the knowledge of a native speaker, like Pierre for instance, and compile all the knowledge he has on the French language. We then pull a copy of that knowledge into a memory strand. Then, we place the memory strand into your brain, behind a block. We then knock you out, block the rest of your memories, and wake you up to inform you of the fact that you have amnesia and we are unlocking your memories. We then unblock the language memories first, and once they have assimilated, we unblock the rest of your memories. At the end, you should have the understanding and ability of a native speaker."

Harry's eyes widened in excitement. "YES! Let's do that!"

Pierre narrowed his eyes. "This… sounds familiar. Was there something about this in the news?"

Albus nodded. "Yes, roughly five years ago. Though it was a person wanting to learn Charms from a Charms Master."

Pierre's eyes bulged out in surprise, before letting out a small bark of laughter. "Merde! Perhaps you should ask about the possible side effects, Harry."

Harry looked at Pierre, and then back at Albus. His eyes now filled with suspicion.

"What are the possible side effects?"

Albus shrugged as nonchalantly as he could manage (Harry thought it was excessively nonchalant). "Keep in mind, Harry, there are records of people attempting this experiment roughly once a decade for the past one or two millennium. About half of the knowledge seekers had too much of their memory blocked and forgot how to breathe or pump blood through their bodies. A quarter had the magic of the opposing memories attack each other, causing massive losses of memories from both sets. The rest, excluding one, had their magic react so violently to the memory strands that their brains liquified. It is possible that Magic dislikes those who try to use the magic of others to directly enhance one's own mind. There is one success story, so take heart! Well, the seeker claims it was a success, but there are records that indicate that he was also a pathological liar and he never named the expert who provided the knowledge. But what are the odds he was lying in this case? So do you want to give it a go?"

Harry glared at Albus. "You could have just said, there was no safe way."

Pierre spoke up. "If I may interject, I have found the mind ordering exercises of Occlumency to be helpful for increasing my retention rate. It's a mild increase, but it may help."

Albus nodded. "That does help. Though, I would expect the increase to be more of a moderate increase rather than just mild. Do you just store the new language as a collection of facts?"

Pierre raised an eyebrow. "Of course… how else would I store it?"

"That would depend on how you order things, may I?"

Pierre paused for a moment, then shrugged and nodded.

As far as Harry could tell, the two men locked eyes and stopped moving for a full minute. Then both blinked and began moving, and Harry had no idea what was happening.

Albus smiled at Pierre. "That is a decent method of sorting for a basic level of occlusion."

Pierre smiled back. "Well, I just need to hide my surface thoughts during negotiations. I'm not planning on keeping secrets from Dark Lords."

Albus chuckled. "Yes, Dark Lords are notoriously nosey. Still, storing your non-native languages in their own room of your estate is a bit inefficient. Try to start spreading that knowledge across all your rooms, labeling every memory and fact in both your native and non-native languages. Save grammatical rules and an index in the non-native language room. It should help you to start thinking in the languages other than your birth tongue."

Pierre shrugged. "It is worth a shot. Thank you, Albus. Harry, I wish you luck in learning the only language truly worth knowing and have a wonderful day. Make sure Albus takes you to the Mirror Tower before your trip to France ends. For now, I have business today. Good day."

Harry saw the sparkle in Pierre's eye, so knew not to take the insult to his native English as being serious. With a smile, he shook Pierre's hand. "I'll do my best. Thank you again for letting us stay with you."

"But of course. Au revoir."

With that Pierre left the two men to themselves.

"Albus, what is occlumency?"

"It is the art of protecting one's mind from being read by a Legilimens. It clouds, or rather occludes, the mind so one can not easily read thoughts, memories, or emotions."

Harry stared at Albus in shock. "People can read my mind!? Can you? Can Snape!? How is that even legal?"

Albus chuckled. "Yes, yes, yes, and it's complicated."

If Harry hadn't been seated, he would have collapsed into a chair. "Have you been reading my mind all of this time? Has Snape? How can it be complicated?"

"I can't speak for Severus, but I doubt he has been doing any sort of active scans. I have never actively scanned you, or any other students, nor would I do so without permission. Active scans fall in the category of any other sort of magical assault, so those are illegal. Though I would avoid the active scans anyway, regardless of legality."

"Because they're an invasion of privacy?"

Albus shrugged. "There is that. There are also the practical points. First, children are rather horrible at lying, and their secrets are rarely worth the effort of invading the privacy of their minds. When Miss Granger lied about seeking out the troll in your first year, we all knew she was lying, and we decided to let her get away with the lie. We didn't know what she was covering up, but the lie itself was obvious."

"It was? I thought it was a good lie."

"You believe that because you are also a horrible liar. Do you truly believe that the lie of a 12-year-old girl, who desperately wanted the approval of her teachers, was remotely convincing to a group of educators who have over a combined century of having students lying to their faces? Students, I might add, who are much older and experienced in lying."

"Huh… why let her get away with it?"

"No one was hurt, the troll was subdued, and the lie caused no real harm. Additionally, Miss Granger let us all see some of her tells, so it would be easier to discern her lies from truth in the future."

"That's… devious."

"You have to be a bit devious to maintain control in a school where every student is armed."

Harry stared at Albus, and then smiled. "That's fair. So, what are your other practical reasons for not reading my mind?"

"Well, there is also the risk involved. It is not uncommon for people to have instinctual defenses that will detect the attack, which puts the caster in a great deal of possible physical and legal trouble. Even worse, the connection can flow both ways, and the attacked person may end up reading some of the thoughts of the caster. When you have the passive form of Legilimency being completely legal, and the active form capable of leading to legal trouble or being reflected back, it is just not worth performing the active scans on unwilling people… well, unless you are a Dark Lord who is completely willing to ignore the law and kill those who dare fight or reflect the spell."

Harry shuddered at the thought of being on the receiving end of an active attack by someone like Tom Riddle. Then, he thought further on what Albus said. "You said there is a passive form that is legal. How is that not an attack?"

Albus smiled. "Because everyone can do it… to a degree."

"Well, I can't!"

"Yes, you can, Harry. I meant everyone, including non-magical people. As people get to know each other, they start to be able to understand each other well enough to be able to convey complex ideas with a simple look. Some people focus on that ability to being able to get a basic read on strangers. This is a very common trick of conmen."

"I guess that makes sense."

"When you add magic to the mix, that instinctual ability is enhanced to the point where you to start to skim shadows of the actual thoughts and emotions. The more two magical people know and trust each other, the more their magic shines light on the shadows. The Weasley twins are a perfect example of two people who can instinctually share their ideas because of their absolute love and trust for one another. A trained Legilimens is like the non-magical conman, but we are more effective as we can instinctually see through most of the shadows to get a clearer picture of a person's thoughts. Occlusion of course can prevent us from seeing the clear picture or possibly make us see the wrong picture."

"Oh… well, I guess that's not as bad as I thought. Still, I would like to know how to do that… occlusion thing."

"Occlumency?"

"Yeah, that."

Albus smiled gently. "I would be happy to teach you Occlumency and the magics surrounding the internal manipulations of one's mind. Happily, we don't have to do the quick and dirty war-time version."

"What's that?"

"In war, if a person is going to have vital secrets and there is no time to give the person a chance to slowly build up their skills in Occlumency, they still need to be able to hide those secrets from at least random Legilimency attacks on the field of battle. So, they need to be able to instinctually detect the attack and cover the important information with something else. Sadly, the only quick way to bring a non-Occlumens to that level is for the teacher to perform painful Legilimency attacks and seek out the student's worst and most painful memories. It's best if done by a teacher that the student is predisposed to dislike, though hatred is better. So, when attacked on the field of battle, their mind is so raw that it automatically detects the intrusion and brings forth the painful memories and hopefully a deep-seated hatred that they built for their teacher. The important information is hidden temporarily by their hatred and trauma."

Harry shuddered at the thought, glad he was avoiding that scenario. "That's horrible!"

Albus nodded sadly. "The worst part is that the student can't be told why they are being tormented, as that dulls their sense of hatred and trauma. They are told that they just need to try harder and keeping attending the training. It is a monstrous thing to do… it is a deep betrayal, and during the war against Gellert we unfortunately had to do it twice. We sought out different methods when possible, but it was unavoidable during the final months of the war. I, quite selfishly, am happy I was able to avoid taking the role of a teacher. The same woman volunteered to teach both students, saying that if it had to be done then it should be done right and as quickly as possible. Even after the war, when the students were told the truth and they forgave her, Vanessa Moody never forgave herself. She went home, resumed her duties as an Auror, and made sure her son learned Occlumency the slow and correct way. But she also ensured her son, Alastor, never learned active Legilimency, making him swear upon his honor to refuse to learn the skill. As she told him, 'the scars of the body last till death, the scars of the soul last forever'. He took that lesson a little too literally I'm afraid, but he also followed his vow. Though he does have an impressive arsenal of artifacts that skirt the edges of the vow."

Harry looked into Albus's face, as the older man's eyes lost their focus and appeared to be staring into empty space. It was jarring to see the man's normally happy face filled with a world-weary sorrow. After a minute of silence, Harry cleared his throat.

"Let's worry about lessons tomorrow. What's this about a Mirror Tower?"

Albus's expression cleared and his eyes took on their sparkle.

As it turned out, the Mirror Tower was a magical version of the Eiffel Tower. The duo (it was a trio, but Harry was unaware of the invisible Dobby following them) sat on a patch of grass near the tower which had a plaque placed atop the ground. Both the patch and plaque were ignored by the non-magical people in the vicinity. Albus tapped the plaque's four corners, and the trio (along with the patch of grass) flipped over and they found themselves in what appeared to be an upside segment of Paris.

Looking down, Harry saw what appeared to be normal grass, but the reflecting pool let him see up into the normal world and normal people looking down from above (though they could not see the magical marvel beneath their feet). Luckily, Harry did not feel like he was about to fall down (or would that be fall up?) to the ceiling.

Looking at the ceiling, it was reminiscent of Hogwarts' Great Hall ceiling. It reflected the real sky above the Eiffel Tower, except it also had people flying around lazily on brooms and carpets.

The grounds around the Mirror Tower were populated by vendors selling all manner of magical trinkets, broom and carpet rental stations, food stands, and a restaurant.

Of course, the primary feature was the Mirror Tower itself. It was an exact replica of the Eiffel Tower but was composed of intertwining trees. The trunks rose up (down?) to form the primary supports. Their branches spread out to form the latticework and platforms of the original tower. Leaves ran up and down the entire structure, subtly cycling through every color of the rainbow as time passed.

Once an hour, a strong breeze would flow through the area, causing the leaves to rustle and reveal the thousands of fairies that made the Mirror Tower their home. The fairies would begin a light show that would last for a couple minutes before the breeze returned to the normal gentle breeze keeping the air fresh.

At the top of the tower, Harry found himself falling into a deeply relaxed state as he breathed in the fresh air. He thought he could almost hear faint music, but it disappeared whenever he focused on it.

Over his remaining time in France, he would make many more trips to take in this sight.

As the weeks passed by, Harry settled into his favorite summer schedule of his young life. Every morning started with an hour of French lessons, followed by a relaxed day of exploring every corner of the country (both magical and non-magical). Some days Albus would have something to show Harry, and other days Harry would choose the destination. Albus insisted that summer was for fun and so he let Harry set the pace.

Harry always found beach days to be a mixed bag, as he enjoyed swimming in the ocean (Pierre had a pool where Harry had finally gotten the chance to learn to swim properly) but then he had to see whatever new eye-searing swimsuit Albus chose to wear that day. Harry wasn't sure if it was simply Albus's fashion sense, or if the man was intentionally trying to be embarrassing. Despite that, Harry was still drawn to the beach, though it was possible a key draw was his discovery of bikinis (not that he would ever admit that to Albus).

It turned out that Pierre was often travelling, so dinner was usually just Harry, Albus, and Dobby. Though, it took nearly a full week to convince Dobby to join the pair at the table. It took another week before Dobby could manage to not spend the entire evening gushing about how "amazing Harry Potter Sir is to allow Dobby and Albussy to eat at the same table as THE Great Harry Potter Sir". It didn't help that Albus was happy to get into contests with Dobby to see who could come up with the most outrageous compliments for Harry. Harry would have been stronger in his protests, but the contests had him laughing too hard by the end of the evening that he couldn't really feel that annoyed.

After dinner, he would spend several hours figuring out how to perform magic without his wand. He had yet to move the damn feather, but at least he was no longer exhausting himself after one attempt. He was down to needing only a couple of minutes to rest between tries. So, he could at least fail at a rapid pace.

As he settled into bed, he would work on his mental storage techniques. Initially, he had tried using Hogwarts as his place for storing his memories and knowledge. But he found himself getting too irritated with how things ended, that he couldn't truly get started with his meditation. His breakthrough came when he thought of using Albus's bowling alley and apartment. As the only place in his life not associated with emotional trauma, it let him find a state of calm that was conducive to meditation and thought. As the weeks progressed, he noticed that his skills in French were improving at a much faster rate, so hopefully that indicated it was working.

It was shortly after he had started to properly meditate that he decided to start writing to the twins and McGonagall (he had already written a short letter to Arthur Weasley, politely acknowledging the man's gratitude and wishing his family well). He had yet to receive an answer from Hermione or any letter from Ron.

The twins were thrilled that Harry had chosen to forgive them, and respectfully annoyed that Harry kept being able to guess which person had written their next letter. He learned from them that Ron had not written because apparently the boy was waiting for the summer to pass to cool things down, so he would just talk to Harry in person when school started (not really believing that Harry wasn't coming back to Hogwarts). Harry gave his blessing for the twins to attempt to prank some sense into his former friend. Slowly, he was starting to get to know the terrible trickster twins as something more than just teammates and Ron's brothers. It was nice to have friends, even if it was just through the mail.

The letters with McGonagall were focused solely on hearing stories about his parents, so he came to look forward to seeing her handwriting. After Harry had assured her that he wanted to hear everything, even the bad things, her letters started to become truly interesting. There was something comforting about knowing his parents weren't perfect.

Being expelled had apparently been a godsend for his summer plans.

One month after arriving in France, Albus heard a scream of frustration coming from Harry's room after dinner.

Walking to Harry's door, Albus saw Dobby standing outside the door (now wearing a clean pillowcase in Gryffindor colors). The poor elf was alternating between wringing his hands and tugging his ears painfully. Albus understood the elf's vexation. Earlier in the summer, Harry had told Dobby not to enter Harry's room without permission. Dobby was a free elf, of course, so he could ignore Harry's order if he chose. However, getting Dobby to ignore the order of his savior would likely require Harry being in physical danger (or for Harry to not be in his room and the room to be slightly dirty, or the bed unmade, or for there to be imaginary dust sitting behind the dresser).

Albus got down to one knee to look Dobby in the eye, placing his hand on the elf's small shoulder.

"It's alright Dobby. I'm sure Harry is fine. I'll check in on him. If I need help, I'll call on you right away. Harry would be upset if he found out he worried you this badly, so let's not upset Harry."

Dobby shook his head violently.

"No! Dobby not want to upset the Great Harry Potter Sir!" Dobby then looked directly into Albus's eyes. "Albussy will help Harry Potter, or else Dobby being upset with Albussy!"

"I'll do my best, Dobby. Good evening."

Albus shook his head in amusement when Dobby nodded and disappeared. As he knocked on the door, he idly wondered what punishment Dobby would devise if Harry was not helped to Dobby's satisfaction. He would have to practice his shields, just in case.

Albus heard a grunt from the other side of the door, which he took as permission to enter Harry's room. There was Harry, laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling with an expression filled with frustrated anger. On the dresser sat an innocent feather.

Albus sat down next to Harry, who stayed in his horizontal position. Albus spoke gently. "Good evening, Harry. How are you feeling?"

Harry grunted and closed his eyes tightly. He then took a deep breath, which Albus recognized from Harry's meditation exercises. When Harry spoke, it was with a voice full of depressed resignation. "I give up. It's impossible."

"What is impossible?"

Harry waved his hand at the feather, without speaking a word.

"Ahhhh… I see. Harry, do you remember what I said about magic?"

Harry spoke with some annoyance creeping in. "That nothing is impossible with magic, just not yet achieved. I know, and maybe it isn't impossible for someone like you, but I'm not Albus Dumbledore. I don't do the impossible."

Albus stared at Harry's defeated face, and sighed.

"You have survived the Killing Curse twice. You have defeated a basilisk with a sword. You've created a brand-new spell that kept you breathing fresh air for a week without your conscious effort. Many would claim that all of that was not possible. Don't you think that is enough proof you have the capacity to achieve the impossible?"

Harry sighed. "The Killing Curse was a fluke of some weird magic, you said so yourself. The basilisk was blind luck. The fresh air spell… I didn't even know what I was doing there, that was me just blindly following your directions."

Albus nodded and pulled out a pair of pamphlets from a pocket in his robes. "I see. Why don't you read these pamphlets? I have circled the pertinent sections."

Harry stared at the pamphlets, shrugged, sat up, and took them from Albus. "What are these?"

"Those are the educational pamphlets for teaching apparition. One is from the British Ministry and one is from the French Ministry."

Harry looked at Albus in confusion. "You're trying to make me feel better by teaching me how to apparate?"

Albus chuckled. "Not quite yet, no. Also, don't read the instructions they give for performing that piece of magic. I have a different method we'll try first. Just look at the circled sections, I believe your French comprehension should be sufficient to understand the basics of what is being said."

Harry looked at the British pamphlet first. "The most common complaint about apparition is about how it is so uncomfortable. Unfortunately, while more powerful witches and wizards can decrease the noise of apparition, there is no known way to increase the comfort. Therefore, if you cannot handle the discomfort, you should investigate alternate travel methods. For more information on Ministry Approved Travel Methods…"

Harry's brow furrowed as he read the pamphlet. He quickly looked over the French pamphlet. While he didn't understand it all, he was still able to glean enough to understand that it had similar content as the British pamphlet.

Harry looked up at Albus. "I'm able to apparate comfortably each time since figuring out the trick, and it was a simple trick, why do they say it can't be comfortable?"

Albus smiled. "I did tell you that you came up with your own trick, Harry. They could hardly share what you came up with."

"But apparating is comfortable for you too. Why didn't you ever share your trick!?"

Albus's smile widened. "When did I ever say it was comfortable for me?"

"… but… you… you have to know how to do it, because you were certain I could do it when you told me that I could make it comfortable!"

Albus nodded. "Yes, yes I did. I also said I couldn't tell you how to do it. I wasn't trying to be difficult with you Harry, at least in that specific instance. I honestly didn't know how to apparate comfortably, though I had also never given the issue much thought. Even after you told me how to do it, it took me over a dozen trips with you before I could finally start figuring out how you were achieving your results. After that, I spent two full evenings apparating over fifty times before I finally replicated what you achieved through creativity, belief, and instinctive ability. Thank you, by the way, it's amazing to end almost a century of uncomfortable travel."

Harry looked at Albus in shock. "I'm the first person to figure that out?"

Albus shrugged. "If others have figured it out, I am unaware of their success. Either they kept it quiet or their 'trick' has been lost to the ages. However, for all practical purposes, your comfortable apparition is an impossibility. An impossibility you achieved through your own effort. This past month you have performed the impossible at minimum twice a day, so it would be best if you just accept that 'impossible' has no meaning in the world of magic."

Harry sat perfectly still, staring unseeingly at the wall. After half a minute, a small grin formed on his face. Followed by a chuckle. "I'll be damned."

Harry then looked at the feather and his smile disappeared. "Then why can't I get the stupid feather to lift up, even a little?"

Albus looked at the feather thoughtfully. "Are you still feeling tired after each attempt?"

"Yeah, but I feel fine after a minute or so."

Albus nodded. "Well, let's see what your magic is doing. I'll watch, as you make another attempt."

Albus watched as Harry stood, took a deep breath, pointed his finger at the feather, and then scrunched up his face in what appeared to be severe constipation as he exhaled the deep breath slowly through his nose. After nothing happened to the feather, Harry sat back down in a heap upon the bed.

"Nothing! Did you see anything?"

Albus schooled his face into a neutral expression. "What are you doing when you cast?"

"I am trying to focus on what I did when I cast that clean air spell, but this time I am picturing myself performing the motions and words for the Wingradium Leviosa."

"And what spell do you cast when you apparate comfortably?"

"… I don't, I just… I just know what I want! Should I just be focusing on the result?"

"It couldn't hurt. Whenever you are ready…"

"Wait, let me try to relax. I never tense up for apparition…"

Harry meditated for several minutes before opening his eyes again. He stood, took a deep breath, pointed his finger at the feather, and calmly exhaled through his nose. Once again nothing happened to the feather and Harry collapsed back on the bed. The only difference in this case was that Albus's eyes widened in excitement.

Harry looked at Albus's expression, and felt hope start to swell in his heart. "What!?"

Albus smiled. "Your magic looked the same way it does when we are apparating. I think you're very close, Harry. Very close… close… maybe that would work… Harry, this next time, touch the feather."

Harry felt excitement coursing through his body. He stood, touched his finger to the feather, took a deep breath, and slowly breathed out of his nose.

As Harry breathed, he felt… something.

"Lift your hand, Harry" Albus encouraged.

Harry lifted his hand, and the feather stuck to his finger and rose as well. When he finished exhaling, the feather fell to the ground.

Harry smiled broadly, but then he felt a sense of anxiety leak into his mind.

"Albus, what if the feather just stuck to my finger because my magic was acting like… static cling?"

Albus shrugged. "There is a way of figuring it out."

Harry looked on as Albus patted the bed, stood up, and walked to the corner.

"Isn't that a bit big?"

Albus smirked. "Size matters not"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Calm down Yoda, it's a bed, not a spaceship."

Harry then turned towards the bed and took a deep meditative breath. Once calm, he touched his finger to the bed, took a deep breath, and slowly breathed out his nose while he lifted his hand.

The bed rose with ease.

"Harry Potter Sir did it!" yelled a squeaky voice from the doorway. Harry spun in shock to face the elf who was staring back in exultant joy.

"Dobby!" Harry yelled in surprise, grabbing his chest. After a couple of breaths, he spoke again. "You scared me, Dobby! Please don't surprise me like that again. What if I messed up the spell or… oh no! The bed!"

As soon as Harry said the word "bed", he heard a loud crash and the sound of wood splintering. He hung his head and turned to look at the destroyed piece of furniture.

"I don't suppose one of you knows how to fix…"

Before he could finish speaking, he heard a snap of fingers coming from Dobby's direction, and the bed was returned to its pristine state.

"Thanks Dobby."

"Harry Potter Sir is too kind! Harry Potter Sir is greatest wizard ever!"

"Good night Dobby."

"Good night Harry Potter Sir."

As Dobby disappeared, Harry turned to Albus.

"Thanks, Albus. It's not quite what I was looking for, but it's something."

Albus smiled, walked towards Harry and patted his shoulder. "It is something. Just remember, it's just another step. I'm sure you will make ever greater strides with practice but enjoy this new step for now. Now get some rest, I've managed to setup a class with a guest lecturer for us tomorrow. I don't want to keep Gilderoy waiting."

Harry nodded, still filled with joy. He closed the door behind Albus and turned off the lights. He then lay down for the evening.

Laying down on the very bed he just managed to levitate.

Without a wand!

Holy crap!

.

.

.

Wait…

Gilderoy?

Lockhart?

What the hell!?

8. Chapter 8

Harry woke early the next morning. While he wanted to ask Albus about the whole Lockhart situation, his mind was far too focused on something he felt to be eminently more important than Lockhart (to be fair, he would be hard pressed to find something he cared about less than Lockhart). He had finally cast wandless magic. Sure, it was with his finger and he had to be touching the object and it only lasted for as long as he could exhale, but it was a start.

After a quick shower and getting dressed, Harry sat crossed leg upon his bed with his back facing toward the hall door. In front of him sat a hardcover French to English dictionary. He centered himself, placed his finger upon the book, then exhaled slowly as he lifted his finger. The book lifted easily with the movement of his finger. When he ran out of breath, the book fell with a soft thump. Harry smiled, rested for two minutes, and then repeated the process, this time ensuring that he lowered his finger back to the bed before he ran out of breath.

Inhale, exhale, raise finger, lower finger, end exhale, rest. Inhale, exhale, raise, lower, end, rest. As he repeated the exercise, he found his mind relaxing into a meditative state. As his eyes watched the book rise and fall, in his mind's eye he was in Albus's apartment above the Lord Bowl-Some-More bowling alley.

He felt a subconscious pull to walk downstairs to the bowling alley. As the alley clarified, he walked to his reserved lane, lane 12. Looking over at the ball rack, he saw a ball that was labeled Levitate. He picked it up and walked to the lane.

Rest. He readied the ball for a throw, waiting for his body to feel ready.

Inhale. He walked toward the throw line, beginning to swing his arm back.

Exhale. He let the ball fly down the lane.

Raise. The ball was nearing the halfway point.

Lower. The ball had passed the halfway point.

End. The ball knocked down the pins.

Rest. He picked up and readied the ball.

For the next two hours, he repeated the process. His steps and throws becoming smoother. He was unaware of the passage of time. He didn't notice that the ball's weight was rapidly diminishing. He didn't notice his rest periods were decreasing into near nothingness. All that existed was the process, his physical eyes taking in the books rise and fall as his mind's eye took in the ball rolling down the lane to knock down all the pins.

Rest. Inhale. Exhale. Raise. Lower. End. Rest. Inhale. Exhale. Raise.

"Harry Potter sir needs to be eating breakfast now!" shouted an excitable House Elf directly behind and inches away from Harry's ear.

Harry shouted in shock and twisted around to see Dobby's smiling face. Behind Dobby, Albus stood chuckling in the doorway.

"Come along Harry" spoke the old man. "You don't want keep Gilderoy waiting, do you?"

Harry frowned as he quickly got up to chase after the man who already began walking to the dining room.

"Albus! Albus, hold on!"

Albus, not really to Harry's surprise, continued his walk to the dining room. The man loved his dramatics, though Harry wasn't sure if Harry's annoyance was the primary driving force for the man or simply a pleasant side effect. After a month, Harry was well accustomed to his tutor's questionable sense of humor.

As they both settled down for breakfast, Harry once again spoke.

"Are we really seeing Gilderoy Lockhart today?"

"Yes."

"The same Gilderoy Lockhart who was the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this past year?"

"The very same."

Harry looked at Albus's twinkling eyes and knew that he was missing something important.

"And he is coming to teach me?"

"Well, he is coming to give you a lecture. Whether you learn something is up to you."

"But… the man was hopeless at teaching Defense!"

Albus shrugged noncommittally.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the man. It had taken a few more annoying "teachable moments", but he had finally come to recognize the signs of Albus playing a prank that only works if Harry refused to ask questions. Asking questions did not come naturally to Harry, but he was willing to deal with the unnatural feeling of leaving his comfort zone, mainly because Albus made sure the level of annoyance of staying quiet was always rather high.

"OK. The man is an obvious fraud, and you wouldn't waste my time with an incompetent teacher. So… what are you planning?"

Albus smiled warmly at Harry. "That is an excellent question, Harry. You have come a long way over this past month. I will gladly tell you the plan."

Harry felt a surge of warmth fill his heart. Albus had not been stingy with praising Harry's progress (with asking questions, studying French, or attempts at wandless magic), but he had yet to become accustomed to unreserved compliments. He supposed that was also part of the reason why he didn't much mind leaving his comfort zone by asking questions.

As he listened to Albus's explanation of the plan, he could not hold back his smile. Even better, Albus happily modified the plan based upon Harry's suggestions.

Shortly before lunch, Gilderoy arrived at the front gate. Jean met him and quickly led him to the study.

Albus smiled broadly, wearing his purple robes with stars and clouds drifting across the fabric. "Gilderoy, thank you for coming."

Gilderoy, wearing his powder blue robes, smiled brightly at Harry and Albus. Harry could honestly (though grudgingly) say that he could see why the man kept winning awards for his smile.

"Headmaster, it is wonderful to see you again. I was surprised to receive your letter, requesting my expert advice. You are a man with almost as many adventures under your belt as me. Ah, and young Harry, you must be feeling rather giddy to be in the presence of the two greatest names of the last century."

Harry forced a smile as he responded. "I can barely contain myself, Professor."

Gilderoy smiled and nodded in agreement. "Of course. Of course. Though, I am no longer your Professor, Harry. Feel free to call me Gilderoy. I am afraid I was pulled away on emergency business shortly before the end of the year. Sadly, I was unable to help with the dreadful business with the Chamber of Secrets when that poor… Wimbly girl was taken. Had the business not been so urgent, I would have of course saved her. Still, all's well that ends well, I suppose."

Harry nodded politely.

Albus chuckled as he responded. "And feel free to call me Albus. I am no longer a Headmaster, so I believe we are all friends here. And yes, young Miss Weasley was saved from the Chamber and all is well."

Gilderoy smiled with vacuous pleasure. "Wonderful, Albus. One cannot have too many friends. Now, you were pleasantly vague in your letter, so which topic can I advise you in today? Do you have a nasty monster to track? A dark wizard needing to be vanquished?"

Albus took a seat as he gestured for other two to take their own seats. "Nothing quite so dangerous, I am happy to report. Rather, the first thing I need is your expertise as a writer."

Gilderoy's well-groomed eyebrows rose in surprise. "Oh?"

"Yes. You see, I have a story from my past and I was wondering if you had any insights into whether or not it was worthy of being written as a book."

Gilderoy's eyes flashed with a predatory gleam. "Well, I do love a good story. Go ahead, Albus. I am all ears."

Albus nodded with a small smile of his own. "Thank you, Gilderoy. You see, some years ago I received a call for help from the nephew of a friend. He lived in a family house located within the wilds nearby a small market village. The young man, Roger, had been told by his uncle that should he ever be in extreme danger that he should try to contact me. Odd advice, I know, but Roger's family was known for its less than completely legal methods for making a living. As such, calling for an Auror would be low on Roger's list of voluntary activities. One day, Roger's house was attacked by a family of trolls, who then began trying to break in. Luckily, the family house had been given enough protections that the trolls were unable to successfully break in, but everyone was now stuck inside the house. In the house was Roger's wife, children, and a couple family friends. They had no Floo access, the trolls had eaten their owl, no one knew how to fight the trolls, and Roger was the only one who knew how to apparate and could only do solo apparition. The siege lasted for three days before Roger decided that the trolls would not leave on their own. As such, he apparated away, and then sought me out."

Gilderoy listened to the story, with his smile slightly dimming.

Albus continued. "Luckily, he lived in Northeast England, so he was able to find a Floo and contact me that same day. I rushed out, and transformed each troll's club into a Portkey, sending them to the Troll Colony in Ireland. I would have stayed to talk to the residents of the house, but I needed to return to Hogwarts for a staff meeting. As such, Roger thanked me and told me that he would let everyone know that they were safe. I returned to Hogwarts, and that was that. What do you think of the story, Gilderoy?"

Gilderoy forced his smile to return. "Well, it's a bit… dull, I am afraid to say. The start is exciting enough but solving the problem in minutes… it's just anticlimactic."

Albus nodded. "Yes, I believe Roger felt the same way. I happened to be visiting a magical pub near his home, in Stockton-on-Tees, and overheard him telling the story. Of course, he had embellished the tale a bit and was telling it to receive free drinks. First, of course, he had been the one to single-handedly taken down the trolls through a combination of crafty magic and fisticuffs, after being held captive for three weeks, rather than three days. Some other embellishments included… well I think you can figure those out. After all, it is almost the same story that you shared in your book, Travels with Trolls. Of course, when I talked to Roger after reading your book, he had no recollection of calling me for help and was certain that you had been the one to defeat the trolls after you had been held hostage for the preceding three weeks. He had come clean with his family, friends, and those bar patrons. The poor man had to pay for his drinks from that day forward."

Gilderoy had paled as Harry spoke up. "But, Albus, you're making it sound as if Gilderoy used some sort of memory charm to take credit for Roger's false heroics."

Albus looked at Harry in shock. "Oh dear, I certainly didn't mean to imply anything like that."

Albus then met Gilderoy's eyes. "Gilderoy, I hope you don't think I am accusing you of something untoward. Perhaps another story will help you. I know!"

Albus pulled a book from the side table next to his chair, placing it in front of Gilderoy. Gilderoy could clearly see it was Gadding with Ghouls.

"Perhaps I could tell you the story of the time I helped the grandson of a friend remove some particularly troublesome ghouls from his attic, where I ended up transfiguring a tea strainer into a net?"

Next, he brought out Year with the Yeti.

"Of course, there was the time where I helped a witch whose village was dealing with a problem with a highly aggressive Yeti. Apparently, its fur had grown quite thin on its head and so it was overly irritated. A simple fur regrowth potion fixed it, and I told the witch that the problem was a cold head."

Next, he brought out Wanderings with Werewolves.

"Then, there was the time where a werewolf friend of mine was staying in a cabin in Armenia. The cabin had cages for werewolves to stay during their transformation. After hearing that a warlock in the nearby village was planning to go out and hunt the werewolves that were 'harassing the village', they tore down the cabin and moved away before they could be found."

Next, he brought out three books. Break with a Banshee, Holidays with Hags, and Voyages with Vampires.

"Finally, there was my Banshee friend, Shannon, who lived in Bandon. I had introduced her to a Vampire friend, Maurice. I knew that they would get along as Maurice's coven consisted of so-called 'vegetarian vampires' who actually just consist on the blood of animals instead of sapient beings, and Shannon was dedicated to make sure she never hurt people with her sonic attacks. They fell in love, and I introduced them to a pair of hags I know who had been trying to break into the wedding planning business. After a beautiful wedding, the hags, vampire coven, Maurice, and Shannon decided to move to a magical community on an island off the Florida Keys. They had all previously lived near witches and wizards who kept complaining about the menace of the nearby creatures."

Albus stared into the eyes of a very pale Gilderoy.

"The fascinating thing is that after each of my stories, the person I helped, or some local braggart decided to take credit for getting rid of the 'evil creatures' and would keep expanding on their tall tales. All in search of some free drinks, food, or other knick knack. Then, mysteriously, they would come clean and give you all the credit. Don't you agree that is fascinating?"

Gilderoy stared at Albus and Harry, his face pale and fearful. "What do you want?"

Harry smiled. "I want to know how I should have dealt with the aftermath of people finding out I could speak to snakes."

Gilderoy looked at Harry as if the boy had suddenly grown a second head which then declared is was going to marry the first head.

"What!?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, you may not have the skills to back up your stories, but you clearly have the skills to sway public opinion. So, how would you have handled the Parselmouth incident?"

Gilderoy stared at Harry as the silence stretched into an uncomfortable length. His eyes occasionally darting back to Albus, who seemed completely comfortable in the uncomfortable silence. Finally, his shoulders sunk in defeat and his lips curled up into a smile that was far more realistic than any other smile Harry had seen on the man's face.

With a chuckle, Gilderoy spoke up. "You know, I did sometimes think that those stories always seemed a tad unrealistic. I guess it was just my luck that I would be stealing stories from people who stole from Albus Dumbledore's glory. I suppose you knew what I was doing from the start, Albus?"

Albus smiled gently. "Not until after I hired you. I hadn't read your books until that point."

"Should I be expecting the Aurors soon?"

Albus shook his head. "Your only victims of illegal memory charms have been con-artists. I don't see the need to call in law enforcement at this time."

Gilderoy's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "And you're just going to trust that I won't do it again?"

Albus shrugged. "I know that you would do it again if given a chance. However, I snuck into your quarters while you were sleeping during your first night at Hogwarts. I then wove a curse into your magic. The next memory charm you cast will violently backfire on you."

Gilderoy's eyes widened in shock. With a gulp he spoke at a barely a whisper. "I didn't know that was possible."

Albus smirked. "I'm Albus Dumbledore."

"Right… right, that would do it… so… Harry, you wanted to know how I would have handled the whole snake-speaking thing. Well…"

Three hours later, Gilderoy finished his lesson. Harry was deeply impressed. The man was incompetent when came to spellcasting or anything academic, but he was a genius when it came to the subject of manipulating the masses. It had taken about ten minutes for the man to really warm up to the subject, and then it was like a dam had burst when he realized he had a class of attentive people listening to him speak about something he was truly knowledgeable and passionate about.

Of course, most of the plans would have required Harry to voluntarily walk into the spotlight of the public eye, which was an idea that Harry absolutely despised. Despite that, he couldn't deny that the plans would have made his second year much more pleasant.

Harry's eyes were opened to a world of possibility, but it didn't mean that he was ready to enter the world. It was at this time where Harry was glad that he had discussed things with the Albus before meeting with the blonde fraud.

"OK" Harry spoke, "that was impressive. So… how would you like a job?"

Gilderoy smiled at the honest praise of his true self, and then tilted his head in confusion. "A job?"

"Well, I hate my fame, but I know I can't stop being famous. Well, at least not any time soon. So, I'd rather if my fame doesn't make my life miserable. I don't need it to make my life great, just… it would be great if it only had a neutral effect on my life. How would you like to be my… fame manager I guess you would call it? You figure out the plan that requires the bare minimum of effort on my part, and in return you get to call yourself one of my hand-selected private tutors, get paid, and we can negotiate further compensation as we figure out the details of the job. What do you say?"

Gilderoy smirked as his mind seemed to race through the possibilities. "I'm listening."

It took another hour of negotiating prices and roles, with Albus taking on the role of negotiating pay instead of Harry (who did not have a good conception of monetary worth in the magical world). In the end, Gilderoy walked away with a new job title, and a month to put together a plan for how to manage Harry's fame.

Harry wasn't sure how much he liked the plan. But he had a month to let the idea percolate. He would just wait to see what Gilderoy came up with and ignore it for now.

That night, after spending the rest of the day at the beach (where Harry made his first ever attempt at flirting, which was wildly unsuccessful), the duo stayed out for a late-night movie and even later dinner. As such, Harry ignored his normal evening wandless exercises and Occlumency training, choosing to instead just roll into bed and fall asleep.

When he awoke the next morning, his eyes cracked open and saw something odd. Floating a couple feet above his waist was his French to English dictionary. After a few seconds of confusion, he realized it was the same the book he had been levitating the previous day.

"Huh... Shouldn't that have fallen by… ooph!"

Before he could finish the sentence, the book dropped suddenly. Right on his crotch.

It took a couple of minutes before he recovered and was able to get up.

Over the next two weeks, Harry tried to figure out how he had managed to have the book levitate for nearly an entire day. He was sure he was missing something obvious, but he couldn't figure it out. He was levitating various things, often without truly paying attention. Albus and Pierre were greatly amused the one night where Harry was absentmindedly lifting and dropping the dining room table during the middle of dinner.

Albus had offered to give Harry advice, but Harry declined. He really wanted to figure this out on his own. He knew he could do it, as he had done it once already. He could do it again. He hoped.

In the dining room, Harry was eating his breakfast while deep in thought, levitating his plate repeatedly as he bowled within his mind's eye. Dobby sat eating his breakfast, staring at Harry's dirty plate with a clear desire to clean it. Albus was reading a letter.

"Hmmm" spoke Albus. "Harry, I have received a letter from Miss Granger's mother. I believe you should read this."

Harry was broken out of his reverie, shocked by the news. He had given up on hearing back from his former friend. A month had been more than enough time for her to respond. His eyes focused on the letter in Albus's hand. He reached for it as Albus slid it across the table, not noticing when he accidently knocked into the plate he had been levitating. He was so focused on the letter that he didn't hear the plate knock gently against the wall as it glided to a stop, nor did he notice Albus subtly shake his head to stop Dobby from collecting said flatware.

Harry noticed nothing as he stared at the folded letter in his hand. He unfolded the letter to read why Hermione's mum would be writing to Albus.

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

I hope you are the correct person that I should be contacting. From what my daughter, Hermione, tells me, you should know who she is. I am writing regarding her friend Harry Potter, who I am led to believe is your student.

When Hermione came back at the end of the school year, she was a wreck. As soon as she got home, she immediately ran upstairs. We had initially thought she was getting a head start on her summer schoolwork, as that is normal behavior for her. For the next week, she barely said a word to us. If she wasn't eating or sleeping, she was working.

It was when I was emptying her bedroom rubbish bin that I discovered that she wasn't working on anything assigned from her school. She has been writing apology letters to her friend, Harry. There were over a dozen letters, each at least ten pages long, and none of them good enough for her. I talked with her, and she explained to me that she had done something that was, in her own words, inexcusably awful to Harry. She has told me what she did, and I agree that it was an awful thing to do. I don't know if you are aware of what she did, so I hope you understand that I keep that between her and Harry.

I have tried to convince her to simply send a letter, but she keeps insisting that the letter must be perfect. The longer she goes without sending the letter, the longer her drafts become. She has also taken to going to the library to check out books on friendship. As I am writing to you, it has been four weeks since Hermione came home, and she is nowhere nearer to finishing the perfect letter. I think she is terrified that this is her last chance to mend things with her friend, though I would understand if Harry felt that she had waited too long to mend things.

I understand if this asking too much, but I must do the best I can for my daughter. Do you think you might be able to convince Harry to write to Hermione? He doesn't need to forgive her, of course that would be wonderful he did, but perhaps he could give her a deadline for her response that will kick her out of her endless revision cycle. Or, in the worst case, if there is no forgiveness to be found, please let her know so that she can move on.

Just to let you know, we will be spending two weeks in Dijon, France, starting on the 23rd of July. I am including our contact information on the attached card, along with a photograph of what Hermione's room currently looks like.

Please, try to convince Harry to write to Hermione.

Thank you for your help,

Sincerely,

Elizabeth Granger

Harry finished reading the letter, and then looked at the photograph that Albus slid over as Harry was reading. Sitting at a small desk was the hunched form of Hermione Granger, hair ten times as frizzy as normal. Surrounding her was an overflowing bin, floor covered in crumpled papers, with papers spreading to the edges of the photograph.

Harry sighed after staring at the back of Hermione in her classic test studying pose. He supposed he should have expected this from her. In a way, it was nice to know that she hadn't written because of her perfectionism, rather than her lack of being sorry. In another way, in a part of his heart that he was not proud of, it was nice to know that her betrayal had caused her over a month of suffering.

Looking at Albus, he saw the man staring back with a questioning look. Harry stood and began to pace around the dining room, running his hands through his hair. Today was the 24th, so they could easily make a quick trip to Dijon. Harry had already been there twice. The question was, should he go?

As he paced around the room, he noticed something odd sticking against the wall. Walking over, he stared at the object. It was a plate, randomly stuck to the wall. Not really paying much attention, he gently nudged the plate and was surprised to see it float away, staying at the same height. Weird, why would someone do that to a plate?

On the one hand, there was enough lingering friendship there that Harry didn't want her to needlessly suffer. On the other hand, why should he do all the work? Also… wait, wasn't that his plate?

Harry looked back at the plate which had stopped its forward motion and was hovering over the floor. Had he gotten it working? How did he do that? He entered his mindscape and walked to his lane. There, in the middle of the lane, was his ball. It was spinning in place, its location on the lane completely steady. It seemed like the ball should have reached the end by now. As the thought occurred to him, the ball shot forward and hit the pins, while the plate crashed to the floor.

The plate immediately reassembled. Harry looked back at Dobby, who had just snapped his fingers. "Thanks Dobby"

"Harry Potter sir is welcome. Dobby also cleaned the plate, even when some bad servant didn't want Harry Potter sir's plate to be clean." Dobby looked pointedly at Albus, who rolled his eyes in response.

Harry smiled, and looked at the plate. What had he done differently? He had lifted the plate, and… Harry's eyes moved down to the letter he still held. The letter had distracted him, and he had forgotten about the plate. What about the book? Harry looked over at Albus and Dobby. They had distracted him, telling him it was time to deal with Lockhart. Wait… Harry replayed the night he figured out the trick to casting his levitation spell without a wand. He had raised his bed, Dobby distracted him, he had breathed several times to catch his breath, and then the bed crashed. Oh! He didn't hear the bed crash immediately like it should have. It only crashed when he thought it should crash. This felt very familiar. But, why? Harry huffed in annoyance, and then paused. He huffed again, slowly inhaled, smiled, and the smacked his head.

"The air bubble spell!" Harry exclaimed, not realizing he had spoke out loud. Albus smiled happily.

The air bubble spell had stayed active, because Harry hadn't thought about cancelling it. As soon as he decided he really wanted the spell to end, it ended. But, did he want the levitation spell to end? Well… no… but, he did expect it to end. And his magic worked to meet his expectations. But, when he got distracted, he forgot about his expectations. So… either figure out how to be constantly distracted or… did he just need to change his expectations?

Harry walked back to his plate, placed his finger on it, and closed his eyes, picturing the bowling alley. Next to the lane, he pictured a button. He pressed the button, and a frictionless net appeared in the middle of the lane. He readied his magic, breathed in, breathed out, threw the ball down the lane, lifted his hand, and watched as the ball was stopped by the net but still spun. He opened his eyes, resumed breathing normally and let go of the plate. The plate remained in its floating state. Harry smiled broadly.

Harry looked into the eyes of a beaming Albus. "What the hell, let's go to Dijon."

"Are you sure, Harry?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm in a good mood. I was able to make a tentative business deal with Lockhart, so I think I can handle Hermione. Come get me when it's lunchtime. We'll go to that place in Dijon that had the delicious Coq au Vin. Afterwards, we'll go their hotel. If she's not there, I'll leave a note with a deadline. Until its lunch time, I am going to practice my latest step in wandless magic."

With that, Harry left to practice for the next three hours until it was time to apparate to Dijon.

As fate would have it, Harry was able to talk to Hermione in person. After enjoying a delicious Coq au Vin, Harry and Albus made their way to the hotel listed on the contact information given by Hermione's mum. Before knocking on the door, Harry paused and looked at Albus.

"You may want to do something that will make sure no one can overhear us, in case she's here. I'm not sure if Hermione is in the right state of mind to keep her voice down and remembering that she is not somewhere where she can speak freely."

Albus smiled. "I'll have to wait until she opens the door first, but I will follow up on those wise precautions. If she is here, shall I bring her parents down to the lobby to give you a chance to speak?"

"… yeah, that would probably be for the best."

Harry turned to the door and knocked. From the other side, he heard a familiar voice.

"Mum, dad, I told you that I am not going to leave this room until I have the perfect letter. Just go visit a museum or something."

Harry smiled and knocked again.

"Fine. I'm coming! I'm coming!"

The door opened and presented Harry with the sight of Hermione Granger with red eyes and hair that was frizzier than he had ever seen. She froze as she saw Harry standing in front of her, her jaw slowly slackening. She didn't seem to even notice as Albus leaned in and pointed his wand into her room, lowered his wand, squeezed Harry's shoulder, and walked back toward the stairs.

The silence dragged on for such a long time, that Harry was starting to be tempted to try poking her in the shoulder. However, as the idea started to take root, whatever rebooting process her brain entered had finally completed.

"Harry?" Hermione whispered, barely making a sound.

"Hey Hermione." Harry responded, starting to feel a bit awkward.

"Harry!" Hermione screamed as she hugged him with all her strength, as if afraid that he would disappear if she let go. Although, Harry thought, that is probably exactly what she was afraid of.

Harry stood still, as Hermione held on to him, rapidly whispering "I'm sorry" into his neck, followed by feeling his shoulder starting to feel damp as she began to cry. As he felt her breaking down in his arms, and he uncomfortably patted her back, he felt his heart extinguishing the last ember of anger he had still held for her. He knew that her misery was real. He knew that her contrition was real. He finally knew that he could forgive her. He just didn't know if he could find his way to having her as a friend again. The three questions still stood.

How could she think he was a Dark Wizard?

How could she think he could attack his fellow students?

How could she treat a friend like that?

Once she had calmed down, he would give her another chance to answer those questions.

That night Harry relaxed in his bed as his mind went over the conversation with Hermione. In the end, her answers were what he was expecting. She had been scared. She hadn't been thinking straight. She ran to her books for protection and they ended up betraying her. She admitted to the mistake, which was… nice, he supposed.

She also seemed to be trying to become a better person, and less willing to believe everything that is written or said by an authority figure. It was a start.

However, that was the problem. It was only a start.

Harry felt like that potential future version of Hermione might become a good friend. But this current version… he felt like he had truly forgiven her and held no more ill will. He also held no more trust, which was the cornerstone of their friendship. Rebuilding that would take time, time that they would normally have at Hogwarts. But Harry was certain that he and Hogwarts had parted company for good, more than certain.

In the end, Harry agreed to trying to write to each other once every month or two. Hermione was not thrilled with that answer, but she gave the impression that it was more than she had expected. When they parted ways in the lobby, she said that she would wait for her parents to arrive. So, she didn't seem happy, but she did seem satisfied. Harry didn't know what the future held for the two of them, but he was willing to find out. If it didn't work, he could always stop writing letters.

As he placed the memories and emotions of the day in their appropriate rooms in the apartments of his mental bowling alley, he allowed himself to move on to happier thoughts. He listened to the peaceful sounds of the house at night, as everybody slumbered. He relaxed further into his meditation.

He had finally figured out the secret to the long-lasting wandless levitation spell. He had also figured out how to remotely end the spell at his leisure. He could levitate a dozen items at once but was still figuring out how to not cancel the levitation of individual objects as opposed to end all the levitations at once.

He had also spent several long hours practicing until he could almost cast and end the spell in his sleep, though he had not forgotten about figuring out how Albus could apparently cast while sleeping.

As part of his practice, he worked with water balloons. Specifically lifting a dozen water balloons up to the top of the canopy that was directly above where Albus slept at night.

In his mind's eye, Harry hit the button to remove the nets holding back the bowling balls. The levitation spells cancelled simultaneously.

A loud splash and sputtering old man's shout of surprise replaced the quiet of the night.

Harry filed away the memory in a special place in his mind, and then fell asleep with a content smile.

9. Chapter 9

A week later, Harry awoke with a luxurious stretch. He looked over at the two dozen books he had floating in the corner. He had yet to figure out the trick for ending the spell for one specific book, but he felt like it was coming. It was only a matter of focus and concentration, which was slowly building with his nightly meditations. Failing that, he had spent the past week adding lanes to his mental bowling alley so that he could keep more items levitating. He was pleased to note that he wasn't feeling any sort of drain from the books, other than a strain on his focus when he constructed new lanes at night.

As for Albus, there had been no retaliation for the water balloon prank. Rather, the old man had beamed and congratulated Harry for a job well done. Followed by a warning that it would be ill advised to attempt the same trick twice. Harry wasn't sure what protections Albus had put in place, but he was certain they would be effective. For now, Harry was happy to simply relax and bask in his victory.

Of course, all of that was not at the forefront of Harry's mind this morning. Rather, he was focused on one simple fact. While the bar had been set incredibly low, the fact remained that waking up in a comfortable bed, in a room where he could freely practice wandless magic, in a house full of people who cared for him, made this the best birthday of his entire life.

The brand-new thirteen-year-old wizard arose, bathed, dressed, and prepared for the day. With a happy smile, he walked out of his room and down the hall toward the dining room. Before entering he paused as he overheard Albus speaking with an exasperated tone.

"… is just a bit too much. I'm all for Harry getting a cake, but there are only five individuals here who are going to have a slice. Well, six if you can convince Jean to have a slice."

A scoff could be heard, which Harry recognized as coming from the House Elf named Jean. It was the closest the extremely proper being would come to expressing rudeness.

Harry turned his attention back to the sound of a piece of furniture scraping against the floor, followed by a second piece of furniture, followed by clunking sound of wood on wood. Once completed, Dobby began to speak in a highly aggressive tone.

"Albussy will not be ruining Harry Potter Sir's birthday. Harry Potter Sir deserves a cake fitting of his wonderfulness. Unless…" Dobby's tone turned silently threatening. "… unless Albussy is saying that Harry Potter Sir is not wonderful?"

Harry snuck silently into the room to see what was happening, and possibly break up whatever was going on. He was surprised to see Dobby standing on top of a chair, that was precariously balanced on the arms of another chair. The apparent reason was so that Dobby could stand up and see eye to eye with Albus. The two were locked in a silent stare-off. Neither one backing down. As the silence stretched on, Harry started to wonder if he should intervene. Before it came to that, Albus raised his hands in front of himself, palms out in a placating manner.

"Alright, Dobby. You win. You get Harry's birthdays. But I get Halloweens! We can figure out how to share Christmas. Deal?"

Dobby stared at Albus shrewdly, and then nodded his head once. "Deal!"

Harry watched, bemused, as the two shook hands. When he let out a small chuckle, the two turned to face Harry. At which point, Dobby began to excitedly wish Harry a very Happy Birthday and usher him to the table.

As Harry listened to Dobby's effusive praise, he looked at the cake that had been the object of dispute. He honestly could say that Albus had a point. The thing was huge. The table had been clearly expanded (and hopefully strengthened) to hold the behemoth. It was at least six feet tall, composed of a dozen or so layers. Around the rims of each layer were intricate pictures painted with frosting. Harry saw lightning bolts, his glasses, silken socks, the basilisk (taking up a full layer), the Sword of Gryffindor (taking up another layer), Hedwig, and countless copies of Harry's face. The top layer was a faithful recreation of Harry's head. Harry wondered, assuming the cake could be kept magically fresh until finished, if there was even a chance that the whole thing could be consumed before his next birthday rolled around.

Harry then remembered that Albus had said there were five individuals who could eat the cake. There was Harry, Albus, Dobby, and Pierre. Who else? Harry looked around the table, and saw an older gentleman sitting next to Pierre. A closer look at the duo, who were chuckling at Dobby's antics, made it clear the two were related. The older gentleman had the same sharp features, though his brown curly hair had a great deal of grey mixed in, and they both had the same eyes that spoke of a life filled with laughter. So, probably Pierre's father.

"Thank you, Dobby," spoke Harry, interrupting the stream of praise. "The cake looks amazing. You've already made it the best birthday of my life. I can't wait until it's time to have a piece."

As Dobby beamed, Harry turned to the older man and spoke. "Hello, I don't believe we have met. Are you Pierre's father?"

The old man smiled pleasantly and nodded. "Indeed I am. Philippe Bordale at your service. It is a pleasure to meet you and to be the second to wish you a very happy thirteenth birthday. I would have, of course, never dreamed to take that honor away from young Dobby. You have a very devoted friend in him."

Dobby's face blushed a shade of green and Harry smiled at the elf.

Turning back to Philippe, he responded to the man. "Thank you. And thank you for letting us stay here in your lovely home."

"But, of course, I owe Albus much, and this is the first time he has ever allowed me to repay him even slightly. Consider my home open to you for as long as it remains in my family."

Harry frowned slightly in confusion. "That is very generous, but what did Albus do? He just said he assisted you in the war…"

Philippe chuckled in fond exasperation. "Albus does have an unfortunate tendency to downplay his achievements. The 'assistance' he provided was…"

Albus cleared his throat. "I don't think now is the time to dwell on the past, Philippe. Today is a celebration of Harry's birthday and all the hopes that brings for the future."

Philippe smiled and nodded. Harry looked between the two men, and then shrugged. He could always ask later. For now, he had a birthday to celebrate.

The party had been small but enjoyable. The cake, despite everyone having at least one large delicious slice, looked as if it had been untouched. Luckily Dobby was able to store it away in stasis in one of Albus's trunks. Harry supposed it would be nice to have a constant supply of cake whenever the mood struck him, and really hoped he started making some friends who could help to chip away at the monstrosity.

He had also received several presents in the post. From the twins, he received a newspaper clipping of them in Egypt. Their parents had apparently won a lottery of some sort and the entire family was spending a month in Egypt to spend time with the eldest Weasley son, Bill. It was odd seeing Ron standing there, but Harry felt pleased to discover that he no longer felt any anger towards his former friend. Oh, he was certainly still due an apology (if it ever came) and he no longer felt the bond of friendship, but he no longer felt the anger. Of course, that didn't stop Harry from taking perverse joy in the picture the twins had included where Ron was wrapped up as mummy and dyed in Slytherin colors.

From Hermione, there was an awkwardly written postcard to wish him a Happy Birthday. Then again, it had only been a week since he last saw her.

From Minerva, he had received a bound book. Harry was delighted to see that it was a complete collection of the detention reports for his mum and dad. He had asked for something that would really help him to relate with his parents as real people. He was looking forward to cracking the book open later.

From Gilderoy, he had received an eye-roll worthy picture of the man. It was autographed with the caption "From one Unforgettable Hero to another".

From Dobby, in addition to the cake, he received a set of mismatched silken socks. One sock with the pattern of snitches on it, and the other with a pattern of Eiffel towers on it.

When it came to Albus, he led Harry to Albus's room where the gift was stored.

"Harry, I am immensely proud of the progress you have made with your magic. Your passion for exploring magic's mysteries has been a joy to witness and has even revitalized my own studies. When the summer is over, we will have to do some formal training, simply to make sure you are aware of the theory the rest of the world works with. For now, though, I would like to give you a book that falls well outside of the normal theory. It's a collection of the personal thoughts and discoveries on the topic of wards, as written by Perenelle Flamel. She bequeathed it to me upon her passing, and it means a great deal to me. Treat it with care."

As Albus went to hand the book to Harry, Harry backed away slightly and refused to accept the book. "Albus, this is too much. I can't just take something your friend left to you."

Albus smiled sadly. "Knowing Perenelle, she probably would have insisted I give it to you. Her and Nicolas were great believers in the infinite possibility of magic, and they would have loved to have seen another young man embracing that philosophy. It's a shame that you never got to meet each other."

Harry hesitantly stepped forward as he looked into the faraway look in Albus's eyes. "What were they like?"

Albus sat down on his bed, while Harry leaned against Albus's desk.

"They were… extraordinary. Kind… wise… funny… and incredibly stubborn. Though, I suppose it takes a certain stubbornness to live over six centuries. Most of all, we were friends. We even had our own traditions. Oh, and the research was extraordinary. It was a delight to work with people who believed that the impossible can be simple if you just have the right idea. Of course, they had good reason to believe in that philosophy."

"What was the reason?"

Albus chuckled. "Well… I suppose Nicolas wouldn't mind me sharing this with you. Just don't spread this around. Do you know that the Philosopher's Stone came into existence because Nicolas didn't understand sarcasm?"

"What!?"

Harry was pleased to see Albus's familiar eye twinkle return. "You see, when he was first learning the art of alchemy, there was a running joke when it came to the Philosopher's Stone. Whenever an alchemist was asked to perform an impossible feat or a possible task with an impossible deadline, they would say something like, 'sure, let me first whip up a Philosopher's Stone really quick and then I'll get right on that'. Except they said it in a more old-fashioned dialect. Unfortunately, poor Nicolas didn't catch the sarcasm, and so he assumed it must be so obvious of a task that no one even bothered to teach it. He didn't want admit his secret shame, that he didn't even know how to make a basic Philosopher's Stone, so he figured it out on his own."

Harry couldn't stop himself from chuckling. "So, one of the greatest magical discoveries in history was just…"

"… the product of being too ignorant to realize it was impossible. Yes."

"So, what was the trick?"

"Nicolas told me that if I was meant to find out, then magic would make sure I figured it out. Magic, in her infinite wisdom, has yet to decide I am meant to know."

Harry smiled. "Were the Flamels the ones who taught you your teaching style?"

Albus smirked. "They were an inspiration, yes."

Harry laughed. "I wish I could 'thank' them for that. So, what sort of traditions did you have?"

Albus's eyes focused on the distance as his smile dimmed slightly. "During our first Christmas together researching Dragon's Blood, I was not expecting us to exchange presents. Perenelle surprised me by having knitted me a pair of warm woolen socks. So, I panicked and got three bottles of Butterbeer from a nearby tavern. Every year after that, she would send me a pair of knitted woolen socks and I would send them two bottles of Butterbeer. Then, as the 25th rolled into the 26th, we would all open our bottles and take a drink in friendship. Wherever I was in the world, I would make sure that I had a bottle handy when midnight arrived at the Flamel house. We rarely could be together on Christmas, but it was a way of feeling like I was back in front of their fireplace and laughing with friends."

"That sounds nice."

"It was… I just assumed that it would by my passing that ended the tradition, not theirs."

Harry frowned, as something pinged on his memory. "When did they…"

Albus gave Harry a long, regretful look, and then sighed. "I am afraid I mislead you at the end of your first year. You see, I had indeed talked with Nicolas about the Stone. We agreed, if I felt like I couldn't protect it, then it should be destroyed. He and Perenelle also had enough Elixir of Life to put their affairs in order. All of that was true, but I mislead you on the timing. We had made our agreement when he approached me to protect the Stone from Tom and his minions. As for getting their affairs in order… they mislead me as well."

Albus's eyes took on a look of unadulterated weariness. "I went to visit them after the troll incident… And that incident was not one of my best moments. I had been so certain that Quirinus had made up the troll, to force a pointless search, so I wanted to clear the room to let him think he had fooled me. Had I thought there really was a troll, I would have kept everyone in the Great Hall where they could be protected and then done a headcount to find stragglers. Instead, I outsmarted myself and you managed to save the day from my hubris. Always remember Harry, being smart does not inoculate you from moments of extreme stupidity."

Albus shook his head in clear annoyance. "Nonetheless, after you saved the day, I went to inform Nicolas and Perenelle of the events. When I arrived at their home, I was greeted by their House Elf. She handed me a letter and led me to their garden. There, I found their graves. In their letter, they apologized for the deception, but they had already had their affairs in order, for a very long time. When Tom became a threat, they decided that was a good time to finally call it a day. They sabotaged the Stone, so it would never again create the Elixir or Life or anything else. And they arranged to pass on when the school year began. They knew that I only agreed to watch after the stone in hopes of saving their lives, and they were sorry for letting me think that was a possibility. As they said in their letter, they were 'ready to go to bed after a very very long day'."

Harry leaned against the desk, his mind trying to remember something it felt was important. As Harry thought, Albus sat still as he stared unseeingly into the distance and clearly lost in his memories.

After several minutes, the thought came to Harry. "Warm, woolen socks…"

Albus's eyes focused on Harry.

"When I asked what you saw in the mirror, you said you saw yourself with warm, woolen socks. That was the first Christmas you didn't get to celebrate your tradition, wasn't it?"

Albus nodded sadly. "Yes. Like you, the mirror shows me my family. However, it is both the family of my blood and of my heart. They are all happy and healthy and have forgiven me for… they have forgiven me. Nicolas and Perenelle were there as well. Nicolas was holding three Butterbeers and Perenelle was holding a pair of warm, woolen socks. A pair of socks that I knew I was never going to receive again. The Mirror of Erised… I can easily see how people waste away in front of it."

Harry stood up, walked over to Albus, and awkwardly patted his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

Albus looked into Harry's eyes, and smiled. "Thank you, Harry."

"So… a book on wards, huh?"

And with that, Albus's eyes twinkled with joy.

The next morning, Albus surprised Harry with an unexpected declaration.

"You're going to do what?"

"Teach you how to apparate. It's high time, don't you think?"

Harry looked at the man with narrowed eyes. "Didn't those two brochures say that I had to be seventeen?"

Albus smiled with a twinkle. "Didn't I tell you not to read the whole brochure?"

"I didn't, but it was in bold letters at the top of each page. It was hard not to notice. It also doesn't change the fact that this doesn't seem… overly legal."

Albus shrugged. "You are only saying that because it is in fact not entirely legal, but you are forgetting something vitally important."

"… Please don't say it's legal for us because 'we're Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore'."

Albus huffed. "Fine. Though it's worked as a defense for me for several decades. If you need some sort of law to hang your hat on… if we wanted to press things, we could call you my apprentice and so you fall under the protection of laws that predate the licensing laws for Apparating. You have to squint a bit to get my interpretation of the law, but the interpretation can be made."

Harry stared at the old man for several long seconds, and then relaxed his shoulders. "OK, it's not like I was going to really fight you on this. Can you first tell me the real reason why I am not going to get into trouble?"

Albus smiled. "You're too popular. I'm too powerful. And the law is too minor for any magical government to want to deal with the first two factors to hassle you for being too young. Assuming you can perform the magic flawlessly."

Harry sighed. "So, it's really because I'm Harry Potter and you're Albus Dumbledore?"

Albus shrugged. "If it makes you feel better, it's probably 90% Albus Dumbledore and 10% Harry Potter."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Well, that's something, I guess. So, how do I Apparate?"

Albus patted Harry's shoulder with a chuckle. "We've been popping all over the country for nearly two months now, and you have been controlling your portion of each trip. You already know how to do the important part, the only thing you are missing is starting the journey and setting the destination."

Harry looked up into Albus's eyes. "And how do I do that?"

"Let me just cast a spell on you to keep people from noticing you." Albus then tapped Harry's head with his wand. "And now, just picture the apparition straw you keep expanding. Then place one end at where you want to end up. Then form the other end of the straw next to you and have it swallow you."

Harry, trusting that Albus knew what he was talking about, simply nodded and closed his eyes. In his mind, he tried to picture the straw's endpoints. He was so used to expanding the straw, that it was instinctual at this point. He knew he could expand it from within, but he was having trouble with both creating the endpoints and making them big enough to fit his body.

Harry could feel his magic reaching out, trying to fulfil his desires, but it just seemed to fizzle out. He knew what he wanted it to do, but he just couldn't control it properly. It was almost like he was learning wandless levitation all over again…

Oh!

Harry entered his bowling alley and pressed the button to end all active levitations, wincing slightly when he heard the loud screech from his bedroom. He had forgotten Hedwig was sleeping on her perch, and two dozen books hitting the ground was bound to irritate her. He knew he would pay for that later.

Shunting his dread to one of his mental rooms, he returned to his bowling alley. Standing at his primary lane, he looked at the shelf of bowling balls. All of them were labelled "Levitate". As he stared, he brought forth every memory of his experiences with expanding the straw during apparition. The memories seem to swirl as streams of silver light and coalesce into a solid object as a new shelf formed. Once the streams of memory finished solidifying, he saw a single ball sitting on the shelf, labelled "Teleport".

He picked up the ball and stood at the ready. Staring down the lane, he let his mind focus on a destination. The pins changed colors until they matched the picture of his destination.

Albus said that Harry could already do this, and the man had been proven right repeatedly. All Harry needed was to start and stop the spell. He knew how to do that with levitation, so this was no different.

Harry took a deep breath as he began his approach to the throw line, his arm arcing back. As his arm moved forward, the ball began to grow rapidly and started to suck Harry inside of it. This was fine, as Harry needed to send himself down the lane. When the ball was thrown down the lane, Harry sat comfortably inside the ball. It was different from when he would expand the straw instinctively, it was like the ball was doing all the work for him. He simply stayed focused on the pins at the end of the journey, keeping the ball on course.

When the ball finally hit the pins, the pins stayed untouched, as the ball dissolved around him and he gently stood up. The bowling alley filled with a refreshing song of pure joy and love. The ball's particles seemed to dance in the air to the tune while shimmering with ethereal beauty.

Harry opened his eyes and smiled broadly. It had worked. He had apparated.

A little less than half an hour later, Albus interrupted Harry's silent reverie.

"You know, Harry, I was expecting you to transport yourself to the other side of the room. This…" Albus waved his arm out to indicate the surroundings. "… this is a bit extreme. Impressive though."

Harry looked out across the lawn surrounding the Mirror Tower, as he inhaled the fresh air and ran a hand across the surface of one of the leaves that was integrated with the architecture of the tower. For the past half hour, as he relaxed into his mind, he could hear the music of the tower. It had been incredibly refreshing.

"Well, you said I could do it, so I knew I could. It's still a bit hard to believe I apparated on my first attempt."

Albus walked to the railing, to look over the same scene. After a deep breath and a chuckle, he responded. "You certainly chose a wonderful destination, as I always love Paris. Though, technically, you didn't apparate."

Harry looked over at his tutor, eyes full of curiosity. "Did I somehow make myself into a portkey or something?"

Albus grinned. "Now, that is an idea worthy of examination. I don't know if anyone has ever tried transforming a person into a portkey, or any living being for that matter… well, that's a thought for another time. What you did was… different. I have the seen magic that swirls around apparition, portkey activation, Floo travel, the Knight Bus's leaps, House Elf transportation, and most every type of magical transport. Initially, your magic looked exactly like the start of an apparition attempt. It began to twist around your body as a cyclone, and then faded. That happened several times more, and then your magic stopped doing anything. For ten minutes you simply stood there, clearly in a meditative state. Your magic then flared in a way I've never seen before, and you were gone."

Harry smiled proudly. "I guess I'm just naturally gifted at transportation magic."

Albus's eyes twinkled. "Perhaps, I suppose your Floo travel style is just too advanced for us poor mortals to comprehend?"

Harry barked out a short laugh. "I don't want to make people feel overly inferior."

"You're very kind."

"… So, what did my magic look like?"

Albus paused in consideration. "It was unique, but if I were to compare it to something… it looked like the starfield view from the cockpit of the Millennium Falcon when it jumps to light speed."

Harry's eyebrows rose in surprise. He looked over at Albus, and saw the man had a slightly sour look on his face. "You're filled with envy right now, aren't you?"

"You have no idea!"

The two laughed lightly, and then stood silently overlooking the scene of people picnicking on the grass or lazily flying on brooms and carpets.

"Since I can teleport in my own unique way, do I need to learn how to apparate?"

Albus shrugged slightly. "That is up to you, Harry. But I would recommend it."

"Why?"

"Where did you teleport to?"

"Right here, well, a couple steps to the left."

"Did you know that, while this is not the most protected area, there are wards in place to specifically prevent unauthorized apparating to the area surrounding the tower? And additional, stronger wards, to prevent apparating onto the Mirror Tower itself?"

"No… I didn't have any problems getting here though."

"Exactly. Your new method of travel lets you bypass the normal wards that prevent people from apparating into or out of a location. Of course, House Elves also bypass those wards, but there are rarely used wards that prevent House Elf transportation techniques. I would need to study your method closer to see if it is negatively impacted by existing wards, for instance I have no idea how your method would work at Hogwarts. Still, what that gives you is a potentially powerful ability that might come in handy as a secret weapon. As such, if I were in your position, I would master this new ability first and then learn the standard ability. That way you can teleport at will while also having an emergency technique at hand when the well-known techniques fail."

Harry nodded slowly as he pondered the advice.

"Are those wards the reason why it took you so long to get here?"

"Yes, I needed to make my way from the alley, to the patch of grass, tap the plaque, and then make my way up the tower. Luckily, the spell I cast on you was working at full strength, so no one noticed you standing here."

"Ah… how did you find me?"

"Dobby."

Harry chuckled. "Of course, I should have known… out of curiosity, what is up with the two of you? I was half expecting to see Dobby start yanking your beard over my birthday cake."

Albus smiled in return. "I doubt it would have gone that far, though not enough to bet money on him refraining from physical violence. Dobby is merely learning how to navigate the unfamiliar waters of being a Free Elf. When I told him to call me Albussy, I knew that I was implicitly giving him permission to treat me as a peer. He's now trying to figure out the pecking order of your servants."

"But… he's not my servant. Is he?"

Albus wavered his hand in the air. "Yes and no. He's not technically your servant. He's a Free Elf, and quite happy about that. However, a lifetime of servitude colors one's perspective of the world."

"I'm confused. Am I his master or not?"

"No, you are not his master. Dobby is a Free Elf and has no master. You would do well to remember that, lest you hurt his feelings."

Harry frowned in confusion. "Am I his employer then?"

Albus smirked. "If you are, you pay an exceedingly low wage of nothing. No, you are something different. Do you know what drives a House Elf?"

Harry shook his head to indicate his ignorance.

Albus nodded in understanding. "I thought not. To be fair, most people are unaware of this. Most people would say that House Elves are driven by their desire to please their masters. And yet, I don't think you could claim Dobby was overly excited to please the Malfoys. Dobby's actions were compelled by magic, but that magic could not compel his thoughts, feelings, and drive. Others would say they are driven by a desire to work. And yet, I have known some House Elves who avoid housework unless specifically ordered to do so. What truly drives a House Elf is a desire to support their family."

"Wouldn't their masters be their family?"

"If the masters are smart, yes. However, the elf chooses who they consider to be family. A House Elf is only compelled to obey their masters, they are not compelled to like their masters. The smart owners will make sure that the House Elf feels like a part of the family, as they will get a much more efficient servant who will anticipate their needs and not look for loopholes in their master's orders. It's part of the reason why you rarely see Pierre ordering Jean. Jean loves Pierre and Philippe as his dear family and gains a soul deep satisfaction from taking care of them. If a House Elf like Jean were to be freed and unable to be with his family, then he would likely fall into a deep depression and be dead within a year. I've seen it happen before."

Harry nodded, while thinking of Dobby. "I guess Dobby did not think of the Malfoys as being family then. I can't really see Draco treating any non-Pureblood or non-human as anything close to family. And Dobby certainly doesn't seem depressed. He's more interested in taking care of me and… and he's decided that I'm his family, hasn't he?"

Albus smiled with amusement. "Irrevocably, yes. From my conversations with him, I have gathered that it was initially pure hero worship. As you kept being kind to him over the course of your second year, you continuously raised that pedestal you were on. When you freed him, you were like a god to him. But the true shift came when you welcomed him to sit with you for meals. That was when his near religious devotion transformed into an unbreakable familial bond."

Harry felt his heart warming a little at the thought. "What about you? Are you his family?"

"No, not yet, at least. Perhaps someday I will be promoted to family. For now, Dobby thinks of me as a… I suppose the best description would be a work friend."

Harry laughed briefly, as the idea of Albus and Dobby gossiping around a coffee machine flitted through his mind.

"So, is Dobby typical of House Elves who are freed from owners they don't like?"

Albus's eyes twinkled. "I don't think Dobby could ever be considered typical. But, yes, House Elves in that situation tend to do well with freedom, assuming they can find a way of caring for themselves. Large institutions like Hogwarts are usual destinations for freed elves, where they can get their needs met through employment. Not that House Elves are freed often, as I have only known a handful in my long life. Dobby of course gets his needs met through the two of us, as we pay for his room and board."

Albus's smile dimmed. "Ideally, I would see every House Elf free to live their lives as they see fit, building their own families like Dobby has with you. For that to happen though, would require a massive shift in the underlying mentality of the House Elves and a monumental change in how they raise their young. As it is right now, even if I somehow tricked every owner to give clothes to their House Elves, nearly every one of those House Elves would immediately ask to be bonded with their owners once again. That's not a hypothetical by the way, historically a House Elf is accidentally freed an average of once every five years. The overwhelming majority of them volunteer to be bonded again within a minute. There are even families out there who offer freedom on an annual basis and have never had an elf volunteer to accept that freedom."

Harry frowned. "What about the elves under the care of bad people like Malfoy?"

Albus's voice took on a sardonic tone. "Society won't punish them for their crimes against innocent people, do you really think society is going to punish them for how they treat non-humans?"

The dark look of Albus's face shifted to hopefulness. "Still… the future is unwritten, if you decide this is a topic worth fighting for, you can talk with Dobby and perhaps find a solution to the problem. For now, though, take heart that you have fulfilled the dreams of one rather excitable little House Elf."

Harry smiled, and the pair lapsed into a comfortable silence. After an hour of enjoying the feeling of his magic almost humming to an unknown tune, as if the magic of the Mirror Tower was harmonizing with his soul, Harry's stomach growled.

Harry looked over at Albus's serene face and felt a small smirk play across his lips.

"Hey Albus… Time for lunch, I think. Let's head back to see what Jean has made. Try to keep up."

With that, Harry closed his eyes. Ten seconds later, he disappeared from the spot with nary a twist or a whisper.

Albus rolled his eyes as he started his walk to leave the tower and the wards.

"I'm sure that's not going to get annoying at all."

10. Chapter 10

The next morning brought an unpleasant surprise to Harry.

"Good morning, Harry!" spoke an unwelcome cheery voice.

Harry looked up to at the dining room table, to see Gilderoy Lockhart sitting next to a bemused Albus.

"I thought I had another week before we were going to meet" replied an annoyed Harry as he sat down to breakfast.

Gilderoy dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin, taking care not to get any food on his lilac silken robes. Once complete, he shot a dazzling white smile at Harry as he responded.

"Indeed, that was the plan, but your recent birthday made me realize that now was the time to strike. I believe I have deduced your primary problem, and how to improve your image with the… sigh… minimum of effort."

Harry's eyebrows rose in surprise, as he noticed Albus leaning forward in interest.

"I'm going to ignore the fact that you just said the word 'sigh' instead of sighing. You really have a plan?"

"Oh yes! Though… are you sure about this whole 'minimum effort' thing? A quick six-month book tour would do wonders. I could set it up with just a few…"

"No!" Harry interrupted Gilderoy. "No book tours… I don't even have any books to tour with."

Gilderoy's smile faded to slightly radiant. "What about the Boy Who Lived books? Everyone knows you get a cut of the profits from their sale."

"What!? No, I don't!"

Albus cleared his throat at this point. "We really should discuss your finances at some point, Harry. Perhaps once we are alone. For now, I can assure you that you are receiving a portion of the profits from that series of books."

Harry looked at Albus, eyes full of shock. "You mean… are you responsible for those… you… what!?"

Albus sighed. "I assure you Harry, I would much rather if those books had never come into existence. When the first book was published, I immediately tried to get them removed from the shelves and stop all future printings. Unfortunately, my detractors were not interested in helping me, and my supporters were too busy buying the books."

Harry groaned, as that seemed about right for the small slice of the magical world he had seen. "Aren't there laws or something that can stop people from writing false stories about me?"

Albus shrugged. "Not really. It's more of a case by case basis, which itself is based on the mood of the Wizengamot or Minister. As for journalistic ethics, that is a concept that has yet to be embraced in the magical world. Of course, the tabloids of the non-magical world make me question how fully those ethics have been embraced anywhere when it comes to celebrities. You can challenge people to duels I suppose, but those aren't really binding and tend to make you look like a violent bully. So, I did the best I could with a bad situation and ensured you at least profited from the use of your name."

Gilderoy spoke up with an impressed tone. "You're why Harry gets a full half of the profits?"

Harry looked at Gilderoy with confusion. "How do you know how much I get?"

"It's written at the bottom of the cover of each book. I hear that helped to boost sales, because people could say they were buying it as a small way of thanking you. It helps that they're pretty good reads, even if aimed at children as an audience. Still, Albus, how did you get half of the profits?"

Albus looked down at his incomplete breakfast, evasively. "I simply pointed out that it was in their best interest to give Harry a more sizable portion than they initially considered."

Harry smiled slightly at that response. "Is that all you did?"

"Well… one could say I was a touch aggressive in my argument and went a pinch too far with my showmanship."

Harry's smile turned into a grin. "Would you mind recreating your argument for me?"

Albus lifted his eyes in resignation, and huffed. He raised and twirled his wand. The table shimmered as a shield covered the food and the table slid away to the wall. Five lamps and a dozen candles were conjured on freshly conjured tables. With another flick of the wand, the candles ignited.

"Keep in mind, Harry, there was a bit of back and forth between the publisher, Samuel, and I. He liked the idea of claiming that you were getting a portion of the proceeds, but initially he was thinking of just 1%. My calm arguments got me nowhere, so this part of the argument only came as a final negotiation technique. I do not recommend using this as an opening salvo in your future negotiations."

"Understood. Now, show me."

Albus sighed, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply. When his eyes opened, they no longer displayed any of his normal kindness or warmth. Instead, his expression made Harry thinking of barely restrained deadly violence. His blue eyes gave the impression of crashing into a mountain of ice. Upon closer inspection, it appeared that streaks of lightning were sparking across the surface of those eyes.

"So" spoke Albus. His voice was quiet, and yet it felt it like it was coming from every direction. "You refuse to give young Harry his rightful due?"

An invisible wind started to swirl around Albus, billowing his robes dramatically as the air around Harry started feel heavier.

"After everything that boy has gone through… after everything he has lost… after everything you owe him… you are going to sit there and tell me that you are willing to steal from him? Steal his name for your own use and give him an insultingly small amount of compensation!?"

The lightning in Albus's eyes became more pronounced, as streaks of electricity coursed between his fingers.

"You know, Samuel, the only type of person I could imagine willing to steal from young Harry is someone who hates that he was responsible for the downfall of Voldemort. Or perhaps someone who has just fallen completely to the Dark. I believe you know how I feel about both Voldemort's followers and Dark Wizards in general, Samuel…"

The flames in the candles roared as they grew to a height of five feet.

"I apologize. I rarely loose control of my magic like this. But I am finding myself slightly angered."

The air speed around Albus doubled. The air around Harry began squeeze in tightly from all sides, as he felt his body unable to move and he labored to breath against the squeezing of his chest.

"I know that there is nothing I can do to legally stop you Samuel. Still, you can choose to do the right thing and give Harry half of the profits. You can show you understand how much you owe him. However, if you go forward with this madness, I will make sure every citizen of this country knows that you are stealing from a young boy, to whom they all owe their lives. I am sure many who have lost family and friends in the war will be less than pleased with you. To ensure they know how to avoid you so they aren't tempted to do something silly like amass into a violent mob, I will let them know your name, physical description, home address, work address, and regular routes you take. I will of course have to avoid running into you personally, because the idea of you treating Harry like that just makes me feel so…"

The five lamps exploded.

Albus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The electricity effects disappeared, the wind disappeared, the pressure on Harry disappeared. The candles went out, and then disappeared along with the tables and lamp shards.

Albus opened his eyes, and they were once again filled with warmth and kindness. With a wave of his wand, the table was moved back to its original position, the shield disappearing.

"It went a bit like that. Happily, Samuel was moved by my argument."

Harry looked at Albus, feeling a mixture of surprise, respect, and warmth. "Would you have really set a mob on him?"

Albus smirked. "An idle threat helps no one, Harry."

Harry smiled and then looked to his side. "Where is Gilderoy?"

"I believe he had to return to his hotel to change his robes."

Harry chuckled.

A little less than an hour later, Gilderoy returned wearing a set of fresh lavender robes. Harry, having had some breakfast, felt much more ready to handle some time with the man.

"Well…" spoke Gilderoy as he took a seat in one of the chairs of the sitting room. "Now that we know that book tour is off the table, and that Albus can be… terrifying, how about we discuss what is the core of your problem?"

Harry nodded.

"Right, your problem is that you refuse to be in your box."

Harry stared at the smiling Gilderoy, then at Albus to confirm that the older man was equally confused. Thankfully, Albus did not look enlightened.

"I'm going to need a bit more than that."

Gilderoy chuckled. "Right, of course. You see, every person is a unique individual with their own beliefs, drives, complex reasons for their actions, and etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. However, people just don't have the time or desire to understand all of that for other people except for perhaps the one closest to them. As such, we all come up with a short description for a person and then put them into a box or two in our minds so we can quickly know what to think of them."

Gilderoy pointed to Albus. "Albus, for example, would be 'grandfatherly eccentric Merlin' and placed in the 'Do not push too far' and 'definitely Light' boxes. As an important note, Albus earned that description honestly though his power, decades of teaching, and fighting against two Dark Lords."

He then pointed to himself. "I, as you can guess, have worked hard to force people to put me in the boxes of my choosing. That being the 'handsome heroic author' and 'definitely Light' boxes. Obviously, I knew that was built on a foundation of lies, so I came up with a backup description for people to use. By acting overly foppish, people who suspect me of lying are going to think of me as a 'harmless pretty boy fraud' and they are unlikely to care enough to dig deeper to find the third real box that Albus discovered."

Harry looked at Gilderoy with a sense of shock. "You planned for the case of being thought of as a liar?"

Gilderoy smiled proudly with a deep chuckle. "I am the son of a muggle father and a witch mother who became one of the most famous authors in a world full of blood bigots while earning, from said bigots, prestigious awards based on nothing. That was not an accident. I knew that most men were going to dislike me for drawing the attention of the women in their lives, so I needed to give them a false lead to make them feel happy that they had found my 'secret shame'. Once people have you assigned to a box, they will do most of the hard work for you. If they learn anything new about you, they will accept everything that affirms their beliefs and reject that which denies their beliefs, so it will take quite a bit of evidence for them to bother moving you into a new mental box."

Gilderoy then looked at Harry intently. "Which brings me to you. I had to really work hard to ignore the box I had for you, and that's how I figured out the problem. If you were not the Boy Who Lived and you hadn't spoken to that snake, and I was forced to describe you, you would be that 'antisocial Quidditch player showoff' kid. After you spoke to that snake, you would also be put into the 'probably Dark' box."

Harry's expression twisted in anger. "I'm not any of those! Well, I play Quidditch, but I'm not a… Dark antisocial showoff!"

Gilderoy put up his hands placatingly. "Of course, you aren't, Harry! Of course, you aren't. The boxes we are put in can oftentimes be unfair. I got the antisocial part from the fact that you seemed to have barely any friends at school, and this was before the whole Chamber opening thingy. I got the showoff part from you flying a car to school instead of taking the Express. Perhaps you had a good reason for it, but you didn't share that with the rest of the school. As for being probably Dark, people tend to think of the two most famous Parselmouth wizards in history, and they are known for being quite Dark. Of course, those are bad boxes to be in, but it's even worse for you."

Harry ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "How can it be worse?"

"Most people come into the world as blank slates. Albus and I got our boxes over time. You, however, got placed in boxes when you were a toddler. When you defeated You Know Who, you were placed into two boxes. You were placed in the 'next Merlin' and 'definitely Light' boxes. Those Boy Who Lived books certainly helped to solidify your placement. So, when you arrived back in our world and your demonstrated boxes didn't mesh with your expected boxes, people started to feel betrayed by you and even a bit attacked. That sort of conflict between expectation and reality is likely to cause huge swings of public opinion as every little thing you do becomes an exaggerated example proving or disproving their expectations."

Harry let out a yell of frustration. "It always comes back to that damn night! I didn't do anything to defeat him! it was just some weird quirk of magic."

Gilderoy chuckled, and then raised his hands again at Harry's glare. "I'm sorry about laughing, Harry. It's just, you are not the first person who I have heard say something like that. There's occasionally someone who mentions that it was just luck, or something your parents did, and they immediately get yelled down and kicked out whatever tavern they have gotten drunk and decided to air such an unpopular opinion. People hate the idea of it being a 'quirk of magic', because if someone like You Know Who can be killed by… bad luck, then what hope does the normal witch or wizard have? People hate the idea of it being something your parents did, because it makes them feel like they failed their deceased family members by not doing whatever your parents did. People need a Dark Lord like You Know Who to have been defeated by a hero, and they prefer the hero to be alive, which makes you the 'next Merlin'. And if you're going to be the 'next Merlin', then you need to be 'definitely Light' because no one wants a Dark Merlin. On the bright side, knowing these boxes exist, you can use them to solve your problems."

Harry, despite his annoyance, leaned forward in curiosity. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Albus's expression change from thoughtful to avidly interested.

Gilderoy smiled with pride. "As luck would have it, when people discover you are Albus's apprentice, they will view that as proof of you working towards fulfilling your role as 'next Merlin'. If you manage to pull off some spectacular magic in the future, that will cement your place in that box. Albus also helps to tentatively put you in the 'definitely Light' box. To cement your place in that box is what will take a small amount of work."

"And what is that 'small' amount of work?"

Gilderoy pulled out several pieces of parchment. "We create a post box for you to receive fan mail. We send an open letter to the major newspapers in the countries that care about the Boy Who Lived. You just explain that you are Albus's apprentice, how you appreciate the kind welcome you have received since your return to the magical world, and that you can be contacted at your new post box which you will try to check as often as your world travels and training will allow you. Then you send thank you letters to people who write to you. Later, we can come up with extra things for you to do to solidify you as a Light Wizard. Of course, you'll want to have Albus check the letters for potions and curses and what not. I have all the forms you need for me to get things started. If we finish early enough, it will run tomorrow."

Harry looked at Gilderoy, aghast. "You said people think I'm showoff. How is that supposed to help?"

Gilderoy shrugged. "You're famous, people are going to sometimes think you're a showoff. The Boy Who Lived can't stop being famous, so you'll be better off just accepting that. By connecting with the common man, you at least show yourself to be humble. People want to believe you are Light, Harry, so just give them some reasons to be happy with their beliefs."

After a side conversation with Albus and further refinement of the plan, Harry reluctantly agreed and helped to write his letter to the Magical World.

Harry took an extra long shower that night, as he felt incredibly dirty. He just hoped that he wasn't making a huge mistake and that the next day would be better.

The next day was not better for Harry.

As he walked into the dining room, he saw Albus reading a letter with a very severe expression on his face.

"Is something wrong?" asked Harry as he sat down for breakfast.

Albus looked up at Harry as he placed the letter down. "Let's go for a walk in the garden, Harry."

"Can I eat breakfast first?"

Albus paused to consider the idea and shook his head slightly. "It's probably for the best that you don't."

Albus stood and began to walk out of the room, Harry following curiously.

Once in the garden, Albus conjured a chair in front of a marble bench that Harry often sat upon to enjoy the view. Albus sat on his conjured chair and then waved his hand toward the bench.

"Please, have a seat Harry."

Harry sat down on the bench, looking at Albus with a rising sense of nervousness. "What's wrong?"

Albus sighed. "I have just received several letters from various people at the British Ministry. This will be revealed in tomorrow's paper. At least Gilderoy managed to have your letter to the Magical World published today, so the story and your letter won't be printed together… that's a small mercy I suppose…"

"Albus, what has happened?"

"Sometime, over the past few days, Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban. No one knows how he…"

Albus's voice faded away as the blood began to pound in Harry's ears. Of course, Sirius Black (the bastard who had made Harry into an orphan and then killed Peter which forced him to live with the Dursleys) had escaped! As he felt his anger increase, he barely noticed his magic flowing through his fingers into the bench.

He knew that things had been going too well. He had been having the best summer of his life, and he should have known that was the universe setting him up for a fall! GOD DAMN IT! He squeezed his fingers tight as he felt his magic pulsing wildly.

The man had killed his parents. The man had killed Peter Pettigrew, who could have been his caretaker. The man should be rotting in his cell but was instead running around free. Vaguely, he could hear Albus calling his name as his magic felt like it was pumping through his entire body into the bench. A sound of cracking filled the background behind the sound of his own heart's pounding.

No, the man didn't deserve to just rot in his cell. Albus's voice started to turn into a shout. Black deserved to be in a grave! The cracking grew louder and louder. Not only did Black deserve to be in his grave, Harry was going to… OUCH!

Harry's eyes regain their focus on his surroundings, trying to understand what had caused his pain. OUCH!

Harry looked down at Albus who was standing and pointing his wand up at Harry. Why was Albus below him?

"Harry! Cancel the spell, I'll catch you."

Harry looked at Albus in confusion. Looking around, he realized he was floating at least twenty feet in the air. Looking at the bench he was sitting on, he realized he was levitating the thing while he still sat upon it. But the levitation was not smooth, as the marble was cracking in every visible place. Many chunks of marble had already dislodged from the bench and were now floating around Harry's head and dozens of feet above him.

Harry looked inwards at his mind's bowling alley, what he visualized as being how he cast magic. It was chaos. Every lane had dozens of balls rolling down them, with some balls caught in place, other balls hitting the pins, other balls ricocheting off random balls and into different lanes, and some balls bouncing back and forth between the pins and the start of the lane.

With a deep breath, he pressed the universal cancelation button.

Gravity reasserted itself as Harry rushed to the ground. He felt his body jerk to the side as he was gently placed on the ground. The bench crashed and shattered, as the remaining chunks finished their falls and pinged against the broken remnants. Albus waved his wand and the bench reassembled into its original condition.

With the bench repaired, the shock of the moment faded, and Harry's rage erupted forth again. OUCH!

Harry looked up at Albus and shouted at the man. "Stop that!"

Albus's face was resolute. "If you don't like it, then dodge. Use your Hyper Jumps if you like but stay in the garden. I'll count to three silently between shots."

"I'm not in the mood for… OUCH! Stop that!"

"No. One, two, three."

"OUCH!"

Harry concentrated on his teleportation and appeared ten feet to his left and saw Albus's spell hit the ground where was he had been standing. He didn't have time to appreciate what he had done, as he saw Albus readjust his aim. He concentrated and teleported again. And again. And again. OUCH! And again.

On his sixteenth teleportation attempt, having dodged all but three of the stinging jinxes, nothing happened.

"OUCH! Stop! I can't teleport anymore. I don't have the power. OUCH!"

"You still have your feet, so dodge. I'm only going to count to one now."

Harry's eyes widened as he found himself jumping and running around the garden. When he felt he had the reserves for it, he would teleport. The ground becoming filled with small pock holes. As time pressed on, the number of jinxes connecting started to increase. After what felt like hours, but was only ten minutes, Harry collapsed in a heap on the grass, his body sore and completely drained.

Gasping, he managed to speak through ragged breaths. "Enough… can't... move… please…"

Albus sat down on the ground next to Harry's collapsed form, not even appearing slightly winded.

Harry closed his eyes as his breathing became less ragged.

"Why?" he asked Albus.

Albus sighed. "The short answer is, I was saving your life. Focus on your breathing and your Occlumency, let me know when you feel calm enough to listen to the long answer."

Harry breathed in deeply and focused upon the apartment where he stored his memories and emotional baggage. The room where he stored the emotions was a wreck, with the door blown off the hinges. Slowly, the room reformed and was fixed. He looked at his rage and visualized it as an out of control inferno. He breathed slowly as it cooled it to hardened figure of pure ice shaped like fire. He placed the ice figure on a shelf and closed the door.

Harry opened his eyes, looking up at Albus's serene face.

"I'm ready."

Albus nodded. "One way of thinking of magic is that you are standing in a dense jungle. The spells that you are taught are paths that others have beaten down over the years. You just learn to walk the path, and you will be taken to the expected destination. It's effective and safe, and… boring. Hogwarts teaches students how to walk those well-worn paths, and the more intelligent people will figure out fascinating ways to make the most of that safe magic. And yet, no matter how inventive, they will always be limited by their implicit refusal to step off the safe paths."

"What you have been doing this summer is learning how to make your own paths. It's a process of finding dead ends, pushing through thorn bushes, and possibly finding results that don't match what you hoped for. When I showed you how to cast the air bubble around your head, I was trying to show you that you could make your own path. However, making your own path requires you to become intimately connected to your magic in a way that most people don't bother attempting or even know is possible. That sort of intimacy with your magic is not something that I know how to teach, so I simply encouraged you to find the method that works for you. Your comfortable apparitions and wandless levitations were, in a way, a form of wooing your magic. As you intertwined with your magic, it intertwined with you, and that let you internalize how you can form your own paths. You have finally figured out how to start exploring the jungle of magic on your own. It's why you were able to so quickly invent your Hyper Jumping."

Harry looked at Albus with slight annoyance. "Please don't call my form of teleportation Hyper Jumping."

The corners of Albus's twitched upward. "Then come up with a better name. For now, I will call it what it looks like to someone who can see magic."

Harry huffed. "… fine. What does all that have to do with attacking me with stinging jinxes?"

Albus, apparently getting uncomfortable in his sitting position, laid down next to Harry so they both were looking up at all the clouds in the blue sky. "You have removed the distance between you and your magic. It allows for you to forge unique paths, but it has also removed the intrinsic safety the distance gave you. Normally, your magic can't harm you unless you intentionally try to make it hurt you. The worst you can do is magically exhaust yourself. Now though… do you remember why I told you not to experiment alone with your wand to recreate what we did when you cast that air bubble?"

Harry frowned in concentration. "Something about a feedback loop between me and the wand that can blow me up?"

"Close enough, as you forgot the part about you being liquified. Well effectively, you are now your own wand. I doubt you would explode, but your magic could cause you a great deal of harm if you lose control too badly. When it was distanced from you, it could go wild without concern. Now, you are so intertwined that when your magic goes wild, you go wild, and vice versa. In your case, your magic was feeding off your blinding rage and initially started to tear apart your bench. The magic was initially smoothly entering the bench to lift you into the sky, but then it started hitting the bench in explosions of power, from every part of your body that was touching the marble. It was impressive to see you use multiple castings of a benign spell to such destructive effect. I wouldn't have been concerned if you had been intentionally experimenting. Unfortunately, you were simply dumping your raging magic into the bench which was nearing its saturation point. Once the bench was destroyed, your magic would have turned inward."

Harry grimaced. "So, you made me dodge like that to… drain me?"

"Magically and physically, yes. Those reserves are also linked and may eventually become the same reserve over time."

"So, does that mean I can no longer feel angry, or else I will explode?"

Albus chuckled. "That would certainly make your puberty more complicated. Thankfully, no. You can feel all the extremes that the emotional spectrum can provide you with, both negative and positive. You just need to be mindful for when you feel like your emotions are taking control of your actions and vent your magic intentionally. Your occlumency practice will help you there. I find it helpful to set aside a room for the emotions that are overwhelming to be temporarily stored, so that I can make a hasty exit and find a place to cast energy intensive spells until I am no longer at risk of losing control."

Harry smiled slightly, as he lay next to Albus. The silence dragged on as he examined the cold fury in his heart. It was as Albus said, it no longer felt out of control. He was in control of himself, but it didn't change what was in his heart.

Silently, as if afraid to speak, Harry whispered. "I'm going to kill Black."

Harry heard Albus sigh sadly, though he did not turn his head to look into the eyes of the older man. He was sure they would be full of disappointment.

After another minute of silence, Albus made to sit up as he spoke. "If you are going to kill him, then you'll need to learn how to fight. You can expect more training like you just had dodging me today. First, we need to make sure you know how to not overload your wand with your new abilities."

Harry's eyes shot wide open as he sat up suddenly. "You're actually going to train me to kill him? You're not going to try to stop me?"

Albus stood and held out his hand to help Harry up. "I'm going to train you to fight. You will be learning both lethal and non-lethal spells and techniques. Of course, as you just discovered, non-lethal spells can be manipulated to lethal effect anyways. I was already planning to teach you to fight once the summer vacation came to an end, as you will be a powerful wizard someday and will need to be able to defend yourself accordingly from the inevitable challengers you will meet. I'm hoping if you confront Sirius, you will use the non-lethal options. As for trying to stop you… I'm not sure I could."

As Harry stood, he looked at Albus curiously. "Why not?"

"I am guessing it will take me at least a couple of months to replicate your Hyper Jumps. After that, it will probably take another couple of months to devise protections against it. Of course, I will also need to come up with ways to bypass those protections, as I do want your secret weapons to have secret weapons which have their own secret weapons. Optimistically, I might have a way of keeping you from Hyper Jumping within two months. Realistically, assuming I am not spending all my time on the subject, you are looking at six months where you can run from me at the drop of a hat. If I choose to stand in your way, then I suspect that you will find a reason in the next two to six months to go on your own."

Harry nodded slowly. "I hadn't thought about that."

Albus shrugged. "The past two years have taught me not to underestimate you when you set your eyes upon a goal. You would have thought of using the Hyper Jumps eventually. More importantly, I am not sure I have the right to try to stop you. After what Sirius did… still, let's hope he is captured soon so you don't have to choose if you will be going down non-lethal or lethal path. Let's get some breakfast in you, and then you can get your wand. While you're eating, I'll write a letter to Remus."

11. Chapter 11

After a week of training for six hours a day Harry had learned much.

The primary thing he had learned was that Oliver Wood's fanatic Quidditch training regiment was a breeze compared to what Albus considered to be a beginner training schedule. Oliver would take advantage of inclement weather for his training. Albus used a series of wards and spells to create the inclement weather in the section of the Bordale estate that Pierre had said he could afford to rebuild after they left France. On the bright side, Harry could now manage a full thirty minutes of dodging before needing a long break to recover.

As for the spells, that was a mixed bag. Albus had been right about how Harry had internalized how to forge his own paths. When using his wandless techniques, he was able to quickly figure out how to create the effects that he wanted. With a simple touch he could now set an object ablaze or banish it across the field. Out of necessity he had learned to immediately banish whatever he set ablaze (a nasty burn on his hand acted as great motivation). He was still figuring out how to stun by touch by visiting the abattoir that supplied meat for the local magical community. For some reason the effects ranged between making the victim a bit woozy to (on one occasion) ceasing all bodily functions. For obvious reasons, Albus was not keen on Harry trying the spell on humans.

Unfortunately, other than his Hyper Jumps (Harry gave up on convincing Albus to call them something else), his wandless magic required physical contact. Even the distance of a millimeter was enough to stop the spell from taking effect. Which meant that he had to learn to cast the spells with his wand.

Harry had decided to forgo learning Albus's method for the moment, what with the threat of self-liquification or putting himself into a coma for a year. This left him with learning spells the old-fashioned way. On the bright side, his tighter connection with his magic meant he could learn the new spells quickly and could cast them silently once he had internalized the pronunciation and wand movements. It also seemed like the more he cast the spells with his wand, the better his wandless versions became.

Of course, the learning of spells was outside of the six hours of training. After breakfast, for half an hour, Albus would stand next to a training dummy and fire a ceaseless barrage of stinging jinxes as Harry would try to take down the dummy. Any stinging jinx that connected would count as a kill, and Harry would start over again. This continued until Harry would collapse. Harry had yet to take down the dummy.

After resting for half an hour, Harry would then go on the defensive. He was still working on getting a shield to work properly, so it was primarily a session of him diving and running around the field and Hyper Jumping whenever he had the magical reserves. For every session, Albus would have conjured a new set of obstacles and areas where Harry could hide for a few seconds before Albus's spell barrage would destroy the barrier.

After another half hour of rest (primarily lying on the grass in exhaustion), Harry would then get an hour to practice and perfect his spells or experiment with combinations of magic and spell chains. Albus stood watch to offer ideas, or to act as a sounding board, or to stop Harry if it looked like he was about to try something that could cause liquification (it hadn't happened yet, so Harry wasn't sure if Albus was serious or not).

Following that, they spent half an hour perfecting what Albus called the Jump and Hit, where Harry would Hyper Jump to the dummy and cast a spell. Each Hyper Jump would be followed by a different spell. Albus had a timer to track how long it took for each Jump and Hit combo. The slowest combo would get repeated the most. Albus called it the first of Harry's secret weapons, with hopefully more secret weapons to be discovered over time.

After that was lunch, followed by a repeat of the morning's schedule.

On the second day, Harry asked why they bothered with the rest of training, when Harry could use the Jump and Hit to take anyone out at will. In response, Albus volunteered to take the place of the dummy. Albus stood in the middle of the field, not using his ability to see magic, with eyes closed, facing away from Harry, with no magic active, wand held loosely in his hand. He had told Harry to take his time and attack when he felt he had the maximal chance to get the drop on Albus. After seven minutes, Harry made his Hyper Jump without a noise and thrust his arm forward to cast a wandless levitate on the old man. The next thing he knew, Albus was waking him up from the ground as it was dinner time. Harry stopped questioning the training at that point.

It was during his morning hour of spell experimentation on that seventh day when Harry took a break to speak out loud a thought that had been bothering him since learning of Black's escape.

"Albus… why do you want Black to be captured? Don't you think I deserve to have my vengeance? Why are you so adamant about keeping him alive?"

Albus peered over his glasses at Harry, eyes full of contemplation. With a deep sigh, he conjured a pair of chairs and took a seat. Harry continued to stand, though Albus did not indicate he had taken offense.

"Whether Sirius lives or dies, is only a minor concern to me. If he dies by someone else's hand, I will not lose a minute of sleep. What is of concern to me is saving you from taking a life."

Harry's expression turned indignant, but Albus put up his hand before Harry could speak.

"I know that you aren't asking for me to save you from your desires, Harry. And I know that you technically contributed to Quirinus's demise, but that was primarily Tom's fault and you were mainly attacking him to incapacitate rather than kill. You have yet to truly intentionally take the life a sapient being. The idea of ending a person's life as an act of justice is an appealing one, but the actual act is… no matter how righteous, it may not feel the way you expect."

Harry felt his initial burst of righteous indignation drain away as he saw the far away look in Albus's eyes. Silently, he sat in the chair facing the older man.

"Have you ever taken a life before? Intentionally, I mean?"

"Yes… oh, yes. Do you recall Philippe talking about how I was downplaying the assistance I provided him during the war?"

Harry nodded. "I remember that you didn't want him to talk about it."

Albus ran his hand down his face before responding. "It's not something I like to talk about. For you, though, I will deal with the discomfort. During the war, Phillippe was a young man who had yet to marry or have children. As a pureblood who had not taken a position of obvious defiance, he was not a target of Gellert's forces. With his parents deceased, the estate was his to do with as he saw fit. He chose to pursue the rather noble goal of acting as a place to hide for those who were targets. For six months he managed to remain undetected, but his luck failed him one day. Before all transportation and communication was blocked, he managed to send an owl out to ask me for help. It was mere luck that I was close enough for the owl to find me quickly enough that I arrived ten hours after the start of the assault. I had sent the owl on to request backup, but it seems it was killed before reaching its next destination. When I arrived, optimistically, the wards had an hour left in them before they would fall."

Albus looked down at his hands wringing themselves in his lap. "I arrived outside the wards, amongst Gellert's forces. They turned to attack me as their compatriots continued to chip away at the wards. According to Philippe's letter, there were over two dozen families and assorted orphans hiding in the house, at least fifty of the people being innocent children. If the wards fell… Gellert's forces were not known for their mercy. So, I did not hold back as I rushed to the house, having been keyed into the wards on a previous visit. Before the attackers could find cover, I had already killed five of the fifteen."

Albus's eyes met Harry's eyes. "Over the next day, I reinforced the wards and took shots whenever the attackers showed themselves from their transfigured bunkers. I offered them so many chances to surrender or retreat, but it must have been one of the missions that Gellert designated as 'Victory or Death'. So, I killed. I killed every one of them except for the last. When she saw she had no chance, she must have decided that she would complete the mission while taking me down with her. She cast Fiendfyre."

"What's that?"

"A sentient flame that lives to consume magic and will chase after the strongest nearest sources it can find. The more magic it consumes, the more powerful it becomes. There are ways to contain its power, but it is immensely difficult to control and very few things can withstand its fury. I watched in horror as the woman sent her horrid creation at a house full of innocents. I could see the madness in her eyes as she intentionally flicked the fire to her side so that it would consume her and massively increase the fire's power. By the time I brought it under control and extinguished it, it had been mere inches away from the walls."

Harry looked at Albus with a sense of awe. "You saved all those people. You did the right thing."

Albus smiled sadly. "I know I did the right thing, Harry. I killed fourteen men and women, some of them probably too young to even have graduated from school. Every single one of them… I could see their eyes as the life left them. And it was the right thing to do. They weren't the first, and they weren't the last. Wherever Gellert or I went, death followed. I took guilty lives to save the lives of countless innocents. I did the right thing, over and over. With magical and non-magical people alike, I did the right thing. Nearly every time, I was close enough to look in the eyes of the person as they experienced their final moments, and it was always the right thing. Sometimes… sometimes I wish I could have lived myself doing the wrong thing."

Harry felt his eyes welling up as he saw a tear run down Albus's cheek. The man looked so lost as he continued speaking.

"In my youth, I thought I had the heart of a warrior. But I was wrong. I have the heart of a teacher. To keep myself sane, I created a room in my mind to hold the memory of the enemies I killed in the war. As the war progressed, I kept expanding the room. By the time I had my final duel against Gellert, the room was a stadium packed to bursting. Each body bearing the face of the first person whose death I am responsible for causing, my poor Ariana. A stadium packed with evidence of my doing the right thing."

"And then… I defeated Gellert in a duel which left him drained and defenseless. I had him at my mercy. After killing so many up to that point, killing Gellert must have been the rightest thing in the world. He wanted me to do it. I wanted to do it. I needed to do it. I had the curse ready. I thought, what was one more body in the stadium? And, that thought… that broke me. The doors to the stadium exploded, and my mind was flooded by the enormity of what I had done. With that, I looked down at Gellert and… I couldn't do it. I had reached my limit of killing. I couldn't kill Gellert. I handed him over to the ICW and they sent him off to his prison. Ironically, he had built the prison to specifically ensure he could keep me imprisoned there, and he did so by ensuring even he couldn't escape himself. He still lives in that inescapable cell all these decades later."

Albus shook his head sadly. "I broke so thoroughly that I wasn't even able to try to kill Tom as his Death Eaters began the reign of terror. I wanted to do it, but I couldn't bring myself to follow through on that desire. I could look the other way when it came to the members of the Order who were willing to take permanent measures and ensure they never suffered legal consequences, but I just no longer had the capability in me to take a direct hand. One positive from my breaking is that my stadium is now what I use to hold back all my physical pain, and how I can handle adjusting my magic through so many layers of wards. That is… something."

Albus regained his focus on Harry. "Taking a life leaves a scar on your soul, Harry. Some people can take on a thousand scars without breaking. Some people break with the first scar. If I can save you from finding out how many scars you can take, then I will gladly hope that someone else catches Sirius before you find him. But I won't try to stop you from doing what you feel is the right thing."

Harry felt confused emotions as he wiped the moisture from his eyes. The two sat in silent companionship for several minutes.

"You know, Albus, I think I could use a break from training. What do you say we call it a day, and get some crepes at the Mirror Tower?"

Albus smiled.

The end of the second week brought an unexpected visitor.

For the first time since starting his training, Harry managed to avoid Albus's volley of spells long enough to reach the dummy, without even using his Hyper Jumps. It was a close call, but he was starting to almost feel as if he could sense the spells as they neared him. Of course, that usually just meant he had an extra fraction of a second to know he was about to be stung, as opposed to it being a surprise. This time though, he had been in a zone. He had ducked, weaved, and managed to pull off a cast of a disarming charm while sloppily executing a forward roll.

Harry had been so excited by his unexpected victory that he ignored the dozen stinging jinxes Albus tagged him with as he did a victory dance around the field. To be fair, Harry could tell by their lowered power that Albus was just casting out of principal and was also pleased with his victory.

With an exuberant yelp of joy, Harry threw himself forward into a handspring. For a change he didn't land on his butt. He landed on his face. Albus's laughter replaced the jinxes.

"I see you have replaced underpowering the spring with overpowering it. That's… progress I suppose. Have I reminded you today that flipping around like that is not remotely helpful during a fight?"

Harry grinned as he stood up and spit grass from his mouth. "It works for Luke Skywalker."

Albus rolled his eyes. "Yes, well, let's get you aiming better than a Stormtrooper before we move on to strapping Dobby to your back for your Jedi training."

Harry chuckled. Ever since Albus told him about the war, he had found himself feeling oddly lighter. Whenever he found himself delving into his darker moods, he would look at Albus's bright demeanor and feel inspired to find the brighter side of things. If Albus could carry so much weight on his soul, and still find happiness, Harry knew he could do the same. Additionally, it made him happy to amuse Albus with his attempts at teaching himself to perform a forward handspring.

"So, Albus, you ready to lose to me again?"

Albus's eyes twinkled. "Nothing would make me happier, Harry. But I think we should take a break and greet our visitor. Hello Remus."

Harry turned around and saw a haggard looking man with light brown hair and a face worn with lines that spoke of a life filled with stress. Harry was aware that he might be seeing what he wanted, but he believed he could see guilt filling the man's eyes when he caught Harry's eye.

Remus looked over to Albus. "Hello Headmaster. I'm sorry it took me so long to get here. Travel between countries is always a bit… troublesome for me. I was in Germany when I received your letter."

Albus smiled in response. "It's quite alright, Remus. And please, call me Albus. I'm neither a Headmaster nor a Professor anymore. And, as I am sure you have already deduced, this is young Harry. Harry, this is Remus Lupin."

Remus looked back to Harry, and this time Harry was sure they were filled with guilt. Remus's arms moved awkwardly as he seemed to try to figure out if he should move in for a hug, a handshake, or just keep his hands to himself. He decided on grasping them in front of himself as he nodded curtly. "Hello, Harry."

Harry stopped himself from rolling his eyes as he extended his hand. "Hello, Mister Lupin."

Remus smiled as he shook Harry's hand. "Please, call me Remus. It is wonderful to see you again. The last time I saw you… well your hand wouldn't even wrap around my pinky. And now, here you are looking like a miniature James. Except your eyes, you have your mother's eyes. It's… it's good to finally meet you."

Harry returned the smile. While he had heard the comparison before, it was still nice to hear. "It's nice to meet you as well. To be honest, all I really know about you comes from the detentions you served with my dad. Well, and the werewolf thing. So, when you dosed your Potions Professor with a hair coloring potion to give him Gryffindor colored hair, how did you manage to get him to consume it?"

Remus's gaped open in shock. "What?"

"Well, I doubt Snape is the only Potions Professor who would be paranoid about consuming foreign potions, so I have no idea how you did it. I'm sure Albus could tell me ten different ways to do it which all require me to have spent three decades studying mystical flutes or something weird like that. Assuming it wasn't something equally odd, how did you do it?"

"Snape… What!?"

Harry frowned and looked over at Albus. "I thought he was supposed to be the smart one."

Albus chuckled. "I suspect he's still stuck on you mentioning he is a werewolf."

Harry shrugged. "Huh. I thought he already knew he was a werewolf. Remus, I am sorry to break the news to you. I suspect it will help explain some things in your life, especially around full moons. Feel free to come inside when you have come to terms with your condition. What do you say, Albus, do you want an early lunch?"

"At this time, I believe it would be called brunch."

"I stand corrected."

As they were halfway back to the house, Harry heard Remus shout. "Wait! Did you just prank me!?"

Harry smirked.

Brunch was a pleasant affair. Harry and Albus lightly, while Remus a surprisingly large amount (luckily, he also had impeccable table manners). Remus filled Harry in on the key to slipping potions to a paranoid Potions Master and regaled him with the complete stories hinted at by some of the more interesting detention notes Harry had read. The conversation had loosened Remus up, and Harry could finally see the reason that his father could have been friends with the man.

It was nice to spend time with the man. Harry had long since forgiven Remus for not being present during his life, as his last year at Hogwarts had given him a great insight into the mind of a person abandoned by one's friend for no other reason than have an uncommon magical ability or curse. If it hadn't been for Albus, Harry could easily see himself possibly walking down the same path as the man laughing before him.

"So, Harry…" spoke a smiling Remus. "Just two more weeks until you start your third year at Hogwarts. Are you excited? What electives did you choose?"

Harry frowned. "I… I'm not going back to Hogwarts."

Remus's smile dimmed. "Is this another prank? If so…"

Albus cleared his throat. "It's not a prank, Remus. Neither Harry nor I are returning to Hogwarts."

"But… but… what about… his education?"

Albus quirked an eyebrow up. "He will have to make do with my personal tutelage. One hopes that it shall be sufficient."

Harry looked at Remus in confusion. "You saw Albus teaching me earlier with the training dummy. What do you think was going on?"

"I don't know. The Headmaster just does weird things sometimes. I learned long ago to not question it."

Harry smirked at Albus. "He's got a point, Albus. OUCH!"

Albus ignored Harry's mock glare as Harry rubbed his backside from the stinging jinx he just received.

Remus stared at the duo in confusion, and mild panic. "This isn't a joke! Headmaster, you must take Harry back to Hogwarts. You know about… about…"

Albus's eyes hardened. "We both know about Sirius. I have made sure Harry is FULLY aware of his family's history when it comes to Sirius."

"Then you know you can't be out in the open like this. You need to be somewhere where Harry can be kept safe. What if Sirius shows up here when you aren't around to defend Harry?"

Albus looked over at Harry with a critical eye. Harry looked back in curiosity. "Based on the past two weeks of training… I would expect Harry to make one pass at defeating Sirius, and then fleeing on the off chance his attack doesn't succeed. If it takes longer than five seconds for him to be either be victorious or gone, I will be most disappointed."

Harry felt a warm feeling of pride fill his heart at hearing Albus's blunt assessment of his progress. He knew it was based on his secret weapon of the Jump and Hit, but it felt nice to know that Albus believed he had a good chance of winning.

Remus clearly did not feel as encouraged. "You would let him actually attack… but, he's… this is madness! What if the Dementors come following Sirius?"

Albus paused. "I had not considered that possibility. In that case, I would expect Harry to flee. At least at until he can defend himself with a Patronus charm."

"But… but…"

Albus sighed. "Remus, perhaps you should head home for the evening. If you can accept that Harry is not returning to Hogwarts and I will be supporting regardless of if he chooses to fight or flee from Sirius, then feel free to return tomorrow. For now, though…"

"Wait! This is whole thing is crazy, but… if you are going to be so reckless… I should have said something long ago anyway…"

Harry caught Albus's eyes curiously. Albus merely shook his head and shrugged in response. The two then turned their gazes to Remus, both sharing identical inquisitive looks upon their faces.

"Sirius can… Sirius is… damn it! Sirius is an animagus! He can turn into a big black dog. So, if you see a dog, do not trust it."

Albus's eyes narrowed. "He isn't registered. When did he achieve the transformation?"

Remus's eye turned downcast. "Fifth year."

Albus's eyes widened in shock. "Very impressive! I assume you didn't tell me before because you were taking advantage of the fact that werewolves won't attack a wizard in their animagus form unless provoked. I wish you had. That would have been helpful to know when he was in the Order. He could have possibly spied for us… of course knowing he was spying on us… it was probably for best that he wasn't used for spying I suppose… still…"

Albus groaned. "I can't picture James letting Sirius become an animagus without making an attempt of his own… so?"

Remus spoke silently. "A brown stag."

Albus chuckled. "That would have been less useful for spying. I don't suppose Peter completed the set?"

"A grey rat."

Albus pinched the bridge of his nose. "Now that would have been perfect for spying. No one even pays attention to a ra…"

Both Harry and Remus looked up at Albus as he stopped speaking mid-word. They watched in confusion as he stared into the middle distance, moving his lips without noise. After two minutes, he took his glasses off and ran his hands up and down his face as he muttered.

"No! No no no! No, that would be… It must be a coincidence… but, what if… then… but, why… unless… no that would be stupid! … damn it, I did the same with the troll… it does fit their boxes better… even their forms match… damn it, Gilderoy, now you have me thinking of your boxes… NO! NO! NO! … still … I better check."

Albus shook his head slowly and then put on his glasses. He stood up and grabbed a plate from the table.

"Harry, I need to go check on something and it would best if I do it sooner rather than later. I hope I'm wrong about this, I really do because being right would mean… well, something you would hate. I promise to tell you everything afterwards, but I think you would be happier if I gather the information before letting you know what is going on. I know you haven't had much positive experience with trusting adults to be competent and helpful, and my secrecy doesn't help with that, but I ask you to risk extending that trust to me. If you can't take the risk, then I will tell you everything right now."

Harry looked into Albus's eyes, seeing the desperate hope in them. Had Albus given him this choice before he left Hogwarts, he would have insisted to be told everything. Now… now he felt willing to extend that trust to Albus. The man had earned this chance to do… whatever it is he felt he needed to do.

"What should I do while you're gone?"

Albus smiled gratefully. "Remus was concerned about the Dementors. Have him teach you about them and give a shot at teaching you the Patronus charm."

"Any hints?"

Albus tilted his head as he thought, and then smiled mischievously. "Remember the mirror."

With that, Albus's plate glowed gold and he disappeared a second later.

Harry looked over at an utterly confused Remus.

"So… the Patronus?"

Remus looked back at Harry, shaking the confusion from his mind. "What?"

Suddenly, Albus appeared on top of the table.

"Sorry, I forgot they were still in Egypt."

A letter flew through the door and was deftly caught by Albus. He skimmed the letter and nodded. He picked up a second plate, paused, pointed his wand at the table where an egg and cheese sandwich quickly assembled and wrapped itself in a napkin. The wrapped sandwich flew into Albus's pocket, Albus's plate briefly glowed gold, and the man disappeared again.

The two looked at where Albus had been standing, his shoe print easily visible in the chocolate custard. Harry felt a grin forming on his face.

"So… the Patronus?"

"Thirteen is a bit young for learning that particular spell."

Harry nodded. "That makes sense. Want to talk about how you never bothered to contact me since the day I lost my parents?"

"… so, the key to the Patronus…"

It was shortly before midnight when Albus returned. Harry and Remus were lounging in the library. Harry read Perenelle's book on wards. Remus was absorbed in a French book on defensive magic. Fawkes had flamed his pedestal to the library to keep them company, while Hedwig was off hunting.

Harry perked up when he saw an exhausted Albus walk into the room. Albus summoned a quill and parchment and wrote a quick letter. He then pulled out an official looking document from his robes and showed it to Fawkes.

"Fawkes, would you mind terribly delivering this letter? I'll provide the means to travel back. It will be password based and it will be his choice to come or not."

Fawkes stared deeply into Albus's eyes for several seconds. When he nodded, Albus sighed.

"Thank you, Fawkes."

The letter in his hand glowed golden. He then summoned an envelope and placed both the official document and letter in the envelope and sealed it. Albus paused and then wrote a quick note on the front of the envelope. Fawkes took the envelope in a talon and flamed out of the office.

"Busy day?"

Albus looked back at Harry with a smile. He sank into a free chair.

"Very! In case he is not as paranoid as I would be, here is the quick summary. Sirius was innocent. Peter Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper who betrayed your parents and framed Sirius. Fawkes is delivering a letter to Sirius in the hopes he will take the portkey back here."

As one might expect, Remus's mouth hung agape. As one might not expect, Harry nodded his head with a triumphant smile.

"There, now you know not to attack him if he appears while we are talking. So… questions?"

Remus's mouth moved soundlessly, as he seemed to be at a loss for where to start.

Harry did not feel as lost for words. "Two to start with. First, where is Pettigrew now?"

Albus tilted his head to the side while he looked at Harry, after a moment his eyes widened in delighted surprise.

"He is in a cell in Azkaban. Lucius, for some reason, seemed extraordinarily eager to get Cornelius to help me. There was an emergency session of the Wizengamot where Peter was given Veritaserum, a truth potion, and he admitted to all his crimes. His Order of Merlin was revoked, he was convicted for his crimes, and he is now serving a life sentence. He is also a wearing a collar that will shrink and grow with him and is permanently stuck to him. It will be connected to a leash that will keep him tethered to his cell, as is normal protocol for Animagus prisoners. Though, who knows, perhaps the shock of his capture and conviction was severe enough to knock out the memory of how to transform and the leash will be overkill."

As Remus mumbled his doubt at that idea, Harry smirked as he remembered their visit with the Malfoys and their specific punishment.

"Well, better overkill than underkill. Second, was he really Ron's rat Scabbers?"

Remus jerked his head to the side to stare at Harry in surprise.

"WHAT!?"

"How long did it take you to figure it out, Harry?"

Harry smiled. "So, I was right! I didn't know if I was guessing correctly, but I came up with my guess that you thought Scabbers might be Peter about ten minutes after you left. Remus helped me to figure it out."

"I did?"

Harry felt a bit of perverse pleasure in seeing Remus in a constant state of trying to catch up. He now could understand why Albus did it to people so often.

"Of course. You were talking about how the Patronus was advanced magic, and not many adults can do it, and a bunch of other ways of saying it was going to be impossible for me to learn. As Albus says, nothing is impossible, and that's what triggered the thought to occur to me."

Harry turned his attention to Albus. "When you said you were going to Egypt, I obviously thought of the Weasleys. They're the only people I personally know who have been to Egypt. And since you got sidetracked on the word rat, well… there is only one rat I could think of. When I remembered to think that nothing was impossible, I thought about what sort of impossible coincidence could get you so worked up and came up with Pettigrew. Pettigrew being alive wouldn't make me angry, unless he was the real betrayer, so…"

Albus beamed as Harry trailed off with a shrug. "That was a wonderful deduction Harry. I also tend to connect rats to the Weasley family. After all, for the past decade, I have had to approve Molly's request to allow them to bring the non-standard pet of a grey rat that happens to be missing a toe. That you made the same connection is wonderful. I am very proud of you."

Harry smiled. "I guess there was some value in you making me constantly figure things out on my own. And… I have had time to think on it. Thank you for convincing me to stay but giving me the chance to come. If you were wrong, I would have had to see the Weasleys in person for no good reason, and I don't think I'm ready for that. If you were right… I've gotten better at not letting my emotions control me, but I am not sure I am good enough to not have had a relapse of two weeks ago. I know you would have helped me over anything else, and Pettigrew would have had a chance to escape. I wouldn't forgive myself if I let my own emotions allow him to go free."

Albus smiled warmly at Harry. "You continue to impress me Harry. You will get to that level of self-control soon enough."

The quiet moment of warmth was ended by the sound of Remus loudly smacking his forehead.

"Just to be clear… the entire time I was teaching you the Patronus, you were thinking that Sirius might be innocent and Albus was off to capture Peter. And you didn't think of telling me?"

Harry looked at Albus and frowned. "Huh… I guess Albus has rubbed off on me more than I thought. It didn't occur to me that it wouldn't also occur to you. Albus was taking care of it, and I find learning a new spell really works wonders at helping process my anger while also make the time really pass quickly."

Albus perked up. "Did you have any progress?"

Harry responded with equal enthusiasm. "Your hint really helped. My initial happy memories weren't doing the trick. But then I remembered the mirror from first year and figured the memory didn't have to be of something that really happened. I just thought about my heart's desire and came up with a false memory of spending a day playing Quidditch with my dad while mum and you laughed below as you talked about the weird nature of magic. It was the happiest fake memory I could conjure. Then I convinced myself it was real by placing it my room of real memories."

Remus groaned. "And I told him that was not how any of it worked."

"Which told me it was the correct path to take."

Albus's eyes twinkled. "So…"

Harry performed the appropriate wand motion, and a brilliant glowing white phoenix burst out of the tip. As it flew around the room, Fawkes flamed back into the room and proceeded to playfully chase after Harry's phoenix Patronus.

"Fawkes keeps flaming in to play with my Patronus when I cast the spell."

Albus grinned. "He often does the same for me".

A second later, Albus's wand added another phoenix Patronus to the room. Albus's Patronus being a few inches larger than Harry's Patronus. Fawkes stopped his chase of Harry's Patronus, and stared at the newcomer. With a melodic trill, Fawkes returned to chasing after the smaller Patronus.

Albus chuckled. "Traitor."

With a thud, a filthy man appeared in the room. He rolled to his feet with his wand at the ready.

"Hello Padfoot" spoke an unsurprised Remus, as he rubbed his forehead where it appeared the werewolf was gaining a headache.

"Moony? Moony! It was Wormtail! He was the Secret Keep…"

"Yes, yes, we have moved on from that Padfoot. Apparently, Harry here figured it out half a day ago."

"Harry? Harry's here!?"

Sirius's head swiveled around the room, taking it fully in. His eyes then settled on Harry.

"Harry?" he croaked with a voice full of emotion.

Harry looked back up at the half-crazed man. "Hello Sirius."

"You look just like… is that a phoenix sulking in the corner?"

They all turned their heads to the corner. Albus answered. "That's my Patronus."

"Ah… why is your Patronus sulking in the corner?"

"Fawkes won't play with it?"

"And who is Fawkes playing with then?"

Harry piped up. "My Patronus."

"Of course. Of course. Why not? I have always wondered what going crazy would be like. I should have suspected when I received an official pardon accompanying a letter telling me Wormtail was captured and had confessed. The portkey's pass phrase should have really tipped me off."

Albus responded with a chuckle. "I needed to make sure you wouldn't say it by accident."

Sirius barked out a laugh as he tossed the letter on the floor near Harry and collapsed into a chair. "At least my hallucination has a sense of humor… and comfy chairs… and a warm fire… and…"

His exhaustion must have caught up with him, as he began to snore lightly.

Harry looked down at the open letter on the floor. When he got to the pass phrase, he rolled his eyes.

The three awake people continued to speak in low tones as Sirius snored.

Harry did have to give it up to Albus. He was certain he would never accidentally say a phrase like "I Love Severus Snape."

12. Chapter 12

It took Sirius three days before he finally believed that he was not imagining things and accepted the reality of the fact that he was now a free man.

Rather, it took him three days before he admitted to believing it was all true. Harry suspected the man had accepted reality within the first thirty minutes of waking up and was simply milking the situation for all it was worth. Not that Harry minded, as Sirius made a point of teaching advanced pranking techniques, which he preceded by always saying "now, your mother would have killed me for teaching you this, but it's OK to teach you because you're not real, so…"

Harry believed Sirius decided to finally stop milking the situation once Remus got fed up enough to stop acting guilty all the time. Which was coincidentally the same morning Sirius woke up to discover that his limited set of new shirts had been transfigured into T-Shirts saying, "I spent 12 years in Azkaban, and all I got was this stupid T-Shirt", "Life is full of trials, except for when I was sent to prison", and "Azkababy Got Back".

On that third day, Sirius sat down at the table wearing his "A dementor is my mentor" T-Shirt. After finishing half of his breakfast and another two large slices of birthday cake, while eyeing Remus's smug smirk, Sirius looked over at Albus and spoke up.

"So, Albus, this is apparently all real."

Albus lowered his upside-down newspaper. "It would appear to be so, but who am I to define another person's reality."

Sirius nodded. "It's answers like that that tell me this is real. My delusions aren't that philosophical."

Albus tilted his head in acknowledgement and lifted his newspaper back up.

"Although…"

Albus lowered his newspaper once again.

"…yes, Sirius?"

"I might have realized this was all real, if you had apologized to me earlier."

Albus narrowed his eyes slightly. "Well, I'm sorry I missed my window. Out of curiosity, what would have been the content of my apology?"

Sirius's eyes hardened. "You let me rot in Azkaban, when I was innocent and hadn't even had the decency of a trial!"

Albus folded his newspaper and placed it on the table. He sighed as he laced his fingers in front of his face.

"Sirius, I do feel awful that you needlessly spent years in that horrid place and am thoroughly dismayed you did not receive a trial. I was under the impression that you had received a trial, nor did anyone give me a reason to doubt that impression. I would have insisted upon a trial if I had known at the time. I was also under the impression that you were found laughing maniacally at the scene of the explosion, surrounded by a dozen deceased individuals. Was that also an incorrect impression?"

Sirius shifted uncomfortably. "That… that was how I was found."

"But you must have at least proclaimed your innocence before your arrest. Right?"

"… I didn't quite do that."

Albus nodded. "Ah… well, I feel horrible that I didn't ask Remus to confirm that you were really the Secret Keeper. He was informed of the truth, correct?"

Sirius's eyes darted over to an overly interested Remus. "Well… we also told him I was the Secret Keeper."

"Ah… so… I believe I can speak for Remus when I say that we are both dreadfully sorry that we believed you, James, and Lily when you lied to us and told us Peter was the Secret Keeper. And, of course, we are sorry we did not see the obvious signs of innocence when you were caught surrounded by corpses and laughing maniacally while never once claiming you were innocent. I just hope that you can someday forgive us."

Sirius groaned. "Sweet Merlin… Wormtail barely had to anything to frame me. I ended up doing nearly all the work for him, didn't I?"

Remus patted Sirius's shoulder. "Yes. But, at least, you excelled at framing yourself. As usual, Wormtail wouldn't have succeeded without your help."

Sirius stared at Remus, as his face twisted from shock to disbelief to slowly growing grin. "Huh… that… actually… that really helps. Just knowing I accidentally pranked myself, and Wormtail had nothing to do with it… that makes it easier to accept."

Remus frowned slightly. "Well, I wouldn't say he had noth…"

Sirius loudly interrupted Remus. "HE HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT! IT WAS ALL ME!"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Yes, that was what I was going to say."

Sirius nodded triumphantly.

Albus smiled. "I am happy to hear that. Harry and I were growing weary of two mopey pranksters. On that note, Remus, how would you like to have a job?"

Remus looked at Albus with guarded interest, his eyes taking in Harry's sudden grin. "What sort of job?"

"As you both know, Harry is receiving private tutelage from me as he does not intend to return to Hogwarts. I find myself in need of as an assistant to ensure he is taught all he needs to know to pass his OWLs and NEWTs with Outstanding grades. As you had excellent grades in school, I was hoping you would help in that regard… along with some other miscellaneous assistance."

Remus frowned. "That sounds like something you could do, and honestly, you could do it much better than me."

Albus shrugged. "I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss your value, Remus. However, it is true that I was prepared to do the academic training myself. But, given you have joined us, I thought you might like to take on the role in my stead."

"Why?"

"Well, as one of Harry's official tutors and my employee, you would be able to travel the world with us without the normal hassles associated with your affliction. Plus, you would get free room and board, along with a stipend we can negotiate if you agree. Unless… do you not want to help care for poor young Harry?"

Harry sniffed slightly as his eyes opened as wide as he could manage. He then spoke in a trembling voice. "Don't you want to stay with me, Moony?"

Remus rolled his eyes as he looked at Harry. "Your wounded puppy dog act, that Sirius taught you, would work better if you didn't also use it every morning to get the last pancake. And, obviously, I am taking the job. Just, tell me the real reason already."

Harry's expression immediately transformed into a smile as he chuckled. "Albus doesn't want to do the boring stuff. He just wants to focus on the new interesting magic we are experimenting with."

Albus broke in at this point. "Well, there is the added benefit that you can help teach Harry everything he needs to know to become a proper prankster."

Harry felt a sense of happiness fill his heart as he saw a Remus's eyes alight with a sense of joy that seemed to push out the last remnants of soul weary sadness that seemed to constantly cling to the man. As a genuine smile grew on Remus's face, Sirius spoke up.

"Hey! If anyone is going to tutor Harry in pranking, it should be me! Are you going to offer me a job!?"

Both Harry and Albus stared at Sirius with nearly identical incredulous expressions.

Sirius's expression changed from indignation to confusion. "What?"

Albus sighed. "Sirius… what is your relationship with Harry?"

Sirius frowned as he replied slowly. "I'm his godfather?"

"And?"

Sirius glared at Remus, as his friend barked out a quick laugh. "What am I missing?"

Harry shook his head and spoke with a tone of fond exasperation. "You didn't read the Ministry forms past the point of saying you were officially free, did you?"

Sirius narrowed his eyes as Harry pulled the forms out of his pocket and handed them over.

"You've planned this conversation with Albus, haven't you?"

Harry shrugged with a smile.

Sirius chuckled softly as he scanned the documents. A minute later, he paused and read over a section a second and then third time. He then looked up with genuine surprise in his eyes. His voice filled with tentative hope.

"I'm your guardian?"

Harry smiled. "My parents wanted you to have that position, and I'm sure they would have wanted Remus to have the position as well if they had known the truth about Pettigrew. I still want to see the world with Albus but would also like to get to know the people my parents trusted most in the world."

Albus spoke gently. "Also, having you as Harry's legal guardian adds an extra layer of protection from having to deal with the British Ministry trying to bring Harry back to England."

"What if I decided to fire you and force Harry to return to England? Not that I would do that! I certainly have no more love for the British Ministry! But, what if I did?"

Albus smiled as his eyes sparkled. "I am certain you would not be foolish enough to try to violate Harry's wishes."

Harry laughed. "There is that. Also, he and I have put together over a dozen plans to deal with you attempting something so unlikely and foolish. Only a few them involve the fact you are physically incapable of stopping me from Hyper Jumping away from you. The other ways… well, there is no need for you to know them. Although, you should know that Albus was confident you would be happy to let me explore the world if you were invited to come along, so the plans were only a contingency."

Sirius stared at the pair for a long moment before he broke out in laughter. After about half a minute he managed to calm down to speak with mirth filling his voice. "It's lucky then that Azkaban didn't make me crazy enough to want to make an enemy of my godson and one of the most powerful wizards in the world."

Albus replied with a nod. "Quite lucky. Now, how would you like to help train your godson to eventually overtake me in power?"

Sirius leaned forward with interest. "What do you have in mind?"

Sirius stood in the middle of the training ground, wand at the ready.

"So, I just hit Harry with a stinging hex before he can physically touch me?"

Albus nodded. "Exactly. Of course, Harry will not be casting any magic to reach you or defend himself. I want this to be a challenge for him."

Sirius arched an eyebrow. "You don't think I can be a challenge?"

Albus stared at Sirius's offended expression, eyes assessing the man's still unhealthily thin form. Finally, he shrugged as his eyes twinkled.

"Very well, Sirius. Harry, feel free to go at full force. Though, please don't harm him irreparably."

Harry's face lit up in excitement. The only time he had tried a Jump and Hit against Albus, it had gone abysmally (for Harry that is, as Albus admitted he enjoyed having some relaxing time to read as Harry was knocked unconscious on the grass). Harry noticed Sirius becoming very wary and nervous. As he looked at the man, he remembered one of the first basic pranks Sirius had told him about. Harry's smile widened and Sirius tensed up further.

"Alright, Harry and Sirius, getting ready… and… go!"

Sirius snapped his arm forward to fire at Harry but was shocked to see the boy no longer visible. He then felt a hand slap the small of his back and yelped as he felt the back of his underwear yank up violently.

Harry laughed as he stared at Sirius hanging in the air, his feet dangling a few inches off the ground as his body weight was now fully supported by his underwear. Remus's laughs soon joined Harry's laughter.

After about ten seconds, a loud ripping sound could be heard followed by Sirius thudding to the ground. When everyone looked up from Sirius's form the laughter doubled. Even Sirius began to laugh through the pain as they all stared at a destroyed pair of underwear floating in the air.

Fifteen minutes later, a recovered Sirius stood in the middle of the training ground, wand at the ready.

"So, I cast stinging hexes at Harry, and he doesn't cast any magic at me or Hyper Jump? And he just touches me with absolutely no spells involved. That sounds good."

If Sirius noticed Albus, Remus, and Harry rolling their eyes, he chose to ignore it with as much dignity as he could muster (it was not a lot of dignity).

Albus replied. "Those are the terms. And… go!"

Harry rushed forward and his eyes widened as his senses screamed at him to dodge. He jumped to the left as a hex passed through the space he had been, with more space than he was used to. With Albus, he had become familiar with almost sensing the spell coming towards him, where his senses would barely whisper warnings to him with very little time to do anything about the warning (assuming he was able to notice the whispered warning). Sirius's spell had caused Harry's senses to scream as soon as the spell started to leave the man's wand.

Harry turned his head back toward Albus, facing away from Sirius, as he was completely distracted from the exercise. He opened his mouth to ask a question… when his senses screamed again. Automatically, he dropped to the ground and rolled to the right. The hex flew over his body, and Harry popped back onto his feet to face Sirius. Sirius paused as he and Harry stared at each other, both with faces expressing the shock they felt. Harry's lips turned up in a smirk, as Sirius groaned out a shorts statement before preparing himself.

"Aw… crap!"

Sirius then began to cast as fast as he could, which was unfortunately at a sluggish pace. Harry strolled toward Sirius, side stepping spells or ducking with ease. Sirius began to pant as sweat beaded on his forehead, while Harry neared slowly and deliberately. Clearly enjoying this easy victory.

Three feet away, Harry felt his senses scream again that the spell was aiming towards his head, so he negligently leaned to the right. However, the spell did not fly past his head. Instead Harry's eyes widened when his senses screamed again that the spell was aiming at his torso. With his body leaning right, he was unable to twist away, and he felt the sting of the hex hitting his stomach.

With a sigh of relief, Sirius collapsed on the ground as he tried to regain his breath.

Albus walked over and knelt next to Sirius, waving his wand over the panting man.

"Well done, Sirius. Very well done! It will take time and training to get you back to your pre-Azkaban skill level, but I am confident you will get there. For now, I'm happy to see you are starting rediscover your battle instincts."

Sirius weakly gave a thumbs up as he continued to focus on his ragged breathing.

Harry looked down at Sirius and felt a twinge of guilt. He had been so excited to finally be able to thoroughly outmatch an opponent, that he had nearly let his godfather collapse of exhaustion.

"Sirius… I'm sorry… I shouldn't have been so…"

Sirius waved him off.

"No… apologies… needed…" Sirius took one last deep breath before he was able to start talking normally. "If you hadn't underestimated me, I never would have had a chance to win."

Harry smiled. "Thanks… how did you win anyway? I was certain you were casting for my head. I know that you tried changing your aim at the last second several times, but it never fooled me before. So, how did you trick me?"

Sirius wiped the sweat from his face, as he looked like he was regaining his energy. "First off, I have no idea how you were doing that, but I'm happy to see my godson can defend himself. James and Lily would be proud!"

Harry felt himself start to beam as his heart filled with warmth.

"As for the trick…"

Albus interrupted. "Sirius, before you tell Harry, let me ask him a question. Harry, are you sure you want to have Sirius give you the answer, or would you prefer to figure it out yourself?"

Sirius opened his mouth to protest, then closed it with a thoughtful expression.

Harry looked between the two men and after ten seconds he sighed. "You just want him to keep his advantage against me, don't you?"

Sirius grinned as Albus shrugged and replied. "That is part of it, and I fully expect Remus to be told so that they can be more effective in training you. To a degree though, the trick Sirius used is irrelevant. Given enough time, he will figure out new tricks as he works with you and gets back into shape. Ignoring the specific trick, do you want to know what you did wrong?"

Harry frowned in thought. "I already know that I underestimated Sirius. What else did I do wrong?"

Albus looked over at Sirius. "Sirius, when you and James tried to slip a potion to all the Ravenclaws at once, so they would sprout feathers during lunch, what happened?"

Sirius and Remus both chuckled as Sirius responded. "They saw me pointing a camera at them and one of the Ravenclaw prefects shouted a warning for them not to eat or drink anything, and then they got Flitwick."

"And when I talked to you and James, what did you say was the lesson you learned?"

Remus groaned as Sirius smiled proudly. "That, next time, I wouldn't pull out the camera until it was too late for people to avoid the prank."

Harry laughed at Sirius's expression of supreme pride. "OK. I get it. I was celebrating my victory before I had won. And, fine, I'll let Sirius and Remus keep their tricks to themselves until I figure them out on my own."

Albus smiled broadly. "Excellent! Now, Sirius and Remus, get up there and help Harry learn how to dodge without magic!"

The two men and thirteen-year-old boy all groaned as they stood.

On the bright side, for Harry, he was finally achieving a lot more victories than he ever got against Albus.

It was one week later at breakfast when Albus received a letter that left him smiling.

"Ah, wonderful news! My friend, Deathspear, has just gotten permission for us to make use of his training grounds for breaking wards. What do you think, Harry, do you want to learn how to destroy wards? It's a lot of violent spells and explosions to begin with, where subtlety is taught later."

Harry smiled slightly at the sight of Sirius perking up at the word 'explosions', and then looked to Albus to respond. "Where would be going, and when?"

"We will be heading to Egypt. Deathspear is the supervisor for the Gringotts Curse Breaking team that William Weasley is on. I happened to see him when I went to capture Peter, and I figured it would be a nice way for you to get some practical experience after reading Perenelle's book. For Remus's sake, we will leave the day after the upcoming full moon, so September 1st."

Harry nodded. "That sounds great!"

Harry then looked at the others at the table. "Sirius, Remus, and Dobby… how does that sound to you?"

Everyone agreed to the plan, with Dobby's answer being typically overenthusiastic and praising of how the Great Harry Potter would be the best ward breaker in the world. Remus's answer was positive, but still colored by a troubled look on his face.

Albus spoke kindly. "Don't worry Remus, I have been brewing some Wolfsbane Potion, so you can have your first dose tonight."

Remus sighed in relief.

Harry looked at the two men in confusion. "What's that?"

Remus responded to the question. "It lets me to keep my mind when I transform. Without it…"

Remus trailed off with a look of frustrated resignation on his face.

Harry nodded in understanding. "I'm sorry. Isn't there anything that can be done to cure being a werewolf?"

Remus shook his head. "No, people have looked for a cure for as long as the curse has existed. It is impossible to cure. I'm just grateful that someone finally figured out a way to make it so I least lose control of my mind."

Harry's eyes flitted over to Albus at the word 'impossible', and saw the man just shrug in response. At that moment, Harry swore to himself he would figure out how to show this impossibility was possible. He would talk to Albus later to get ideas on where to direct his studies.

Looking back at Remus, his mind returned to the present. "Well, thank goodness for the potion then. It must have made it easier when you were in school."

Remus grimaced. "The potion was invented after I left school. Back then I had to be isolated in the Shrieking Shack to keep everyone safe."

"The Shrieking Shack?"

"A house that was built for me, and where I could transform without fearing the possibility of hurting others. The only way to enter or exit was through a secret passage under the Whomping Willow. It was impossible to fit inside the passage in my transformed state. The only people who even knew about the passage were Albus, some professors, Sirius, James, and… Pettigrew. Well… I guess there was also Severus."

Harry looked at Remus in shocked confusion. "Snape? Why would he know?"

Sirius sighed sadly. "I told him. Thankfully, James rushed off and saved Snape before Remus had a chance to hurt him. Though he still did see Remus in his transformed state."

Harry's brow furrowed in concentration and then looked over at Albus. "You told me my father saved Snape, which was why Snape both hated me and was trying to save me. Was that what you were talking about?"

Albus nodded. "Indeed. Your father prevented a truly horrible tragedy, and saved Severus from his own stupidity."

"What do you mean? It sounds like he was going to be the victim of Sirius's actions. Sorry, Sirius."

Sirius shook his head. "You're not wrong."

Albus looked at Sirius in confusion. "I thought you were aware of the whole truth, and that is why you didn't ask any questions when you weren't expelled."

At Sirius's look of utter confusion, Albus pinched the bridge of his nose and then looked over at Harry.

"Harry, Severus received his Mastery in Potions at an exceptionally young age. He worked as a double agent during the war and survived. He also, despite having a non-magical father, was a high-ranking Death Eater. Finally, during school, he was obsessed with destroying your father and his friends. Do you honestly believe that a man like that would not be able figure out what it means when one of his sworn enemies is away from school for every single full moon for years on end?"

Harry's eyes widened, noticing the jaws slackening on both Remus and Sirius's faces.

Albus continued. "You see, Severus knew what he was going to see, and he wanted proof so he could get Remus expelled. The problem was that he was expecting Remus to be safe and chained up. All Sirius did was the stupid action of telling Severus how to get into the passage. But, do not doubt that Severus knew what he was doing."

Harry frowned. "Why would he do something so… stupid?"

Albus chuckled ruefully. "You've met the man. Does he strike you as a nice person who only attacks when attacked first, or as a bitter man who goes out of his way to proactively attack his enemies?"

Harry stared at Albus thoughtfully. "That's… that's a fair point. So, was he the one who started the rivalry between him and my dad?"

Remus and Sirius responded at the same time. "No!" "Yes!"

Albus chuckled. "I'll leave it to those two to figure that out. I can tell you that I could clearly see the loathing between the two even before they were sorted into their houses. Things just got worse as the years went on. Your father and his friends tended to target Severus for pranks, but Severus and his Slytherin allies targeted them back with far more violent responses. Of course, Severus chooses not to remember that he gave as good as he got. To be fair, he didn't help himself by the way he taught himself Occlumency."

Harry leaned forward in interest. "What do you mean?"

"Do you remember me telling you about how we did quick and dirty Occlumency training during the war? Well, he did similar training while in school, but on himself. Instead of focusing on his worst memories, he focused on keeping his hatred for your father and his friends at the front of his mind. That is part of why he hates you so much, as it has become instinctual. Whenever one examines his mind, his memories and thoughts are guarded by a thick layer of undying hate for James Potter and, to a lesser but still violent degree, his friends."

Harry paled. "Thank you for teaching me the right way to learn Occlumency."

Albus smiled. "You're quite welcome, my boy. Speaking of teaching you, it is time for us go outside and start your training. I think today you will be taking on Remus, Sirius, and me."

Harry groaned as Sirius chuckled.

Over the days until September 1st, Harry had spent a lot of time trying to take down the trio of adults in training. He could occasionally take down Sirius and Remus, but Albus remained untouchable. Though it had been satisfying the one time he managed to dive behind Remus and saw Albus's spell hit the man.

Of course, when Remus needed to take a break from training the day before the full moon, Harry had made the mistake of joking that this was his chance to take Sirius down during each session. Albus responded by revealing that he was proud that Harry had gotten the hang of the basics of his training and it was now time to start the official novice level training.

Up to that point, Harry had though Albus had been attacking him with a deluge of spells, where the man would shoot a spell every three seconds. He now realized that deluge was little more than a light sprinkle. With the "official novice level training" the old man had decreased the interval to less than a second between spells. Additionally, where he used to be almost able to feel the spells from Albus, he could now barely sense the ghost of the spells. Harry found himself fondly reminiscing over those early days of hellish training. On the bright side, Sirius's spells still screamed their presence well in advance of becoming a threat.

Intellectually, he appreciated that Albus was trying to keep him from becoming too full of himself and make sure he never underestimated his opponents. Practically, his stinging and exhausted body demanded that it was time to figure out a new prank for the old man. Maybe he could get Remus and Sirius in on a brainstorming session.

Then again, with how much Remus and Sirius laughed at the training stories, perhaps all three men were due a prank. He would figure something out.

When it came time to take the train to Cairo, Harry was too focused on his pranking vengeance to pay attention to the rapidly changing landscape as they popped through different countries. Nor was he paying too much attention as Albus apparated him from the train station.

He did start paying attention though when he was hit by an intense dry heat. Looking around, he saw they were standing in the middle of a desert. He could not see a structure in any direction. Looking to his left, he saw Remus and Sirius apparate next to him.

"Where are we, Albus?"

Albus smiled. "We are at the edge of the wards for the Gringotts Curse Breaking Headquarters. We should be greeted shortly."

"Ah… it looks nice."

Sirius grinned. "Very nice! I like… the dunes."

Remus responded. "I don't know, Sirius, I prefer the heat shimmers."

"Dobby likes the pool!"

"What are you talking…" Harry looked to where Dobby had spoken, only to see the elf rush forward and disappear in thin air.

Albus chuckled. "I suppose the wards aren't designed to work on House Elves."

Before they could respond, a tall red-headed man appeared from where Dobby had disappeared. The man had his long hair in a ponytail and had a fang earring. If Harry had not spent the past few months in the muggle world, seeing more people than he had ever seen in his life, he would have likely thought this was one of the coolest people he had ever met. Instead, he just found himself pondering what he would look like with a basilisk fang earring and if it would fill Sirius with envy.

"Headmaster!" spoke the man. "Supervisor Deathspear is expecting you. You're still keyed in, so let me just key your guests into the wards."

"Hello William, as I said before, you can just call me Albus now. How are the family?"

As William waved his wand towards Harry, he answered. "I'll try to call you that, but it seems… wrong. Like I am going to get a week of detention from Professor McGonagall for my cheek. My family is doing well. They were obviously a bit shook up by discovering that Scabbers was really an animagus. But they were feeling better by the time they left."

Harry looked closer at William. "Are you Bill Weasley? Ron mentioned that…" Harry stopped speaking and gasped as the empty desert in front of him disappeared and was filled in with a tiny town.

As he stepped forward, the air cooled to a comfortable level. The most striking feature was an immense pyramid that had sides colored in pure gleaming white, topped with a cap of gold that shone brilliantly in the sunlight. Surrounding the pyramid were a series of modest, yet comfortable looking huts. Finally, not too far from where he stood was a huge pool filled with clean and clear water. Several humans and goblins could be seen relaxing and swimming in the cool water.

And, floating atop an inner tube in the center of the pool, wearing sunglasses, and sipping a Butterbeer through an elaborately looping blue straw, lay an extremely relaxed Dobby.

13. Chapter 13

Harry and Albus walked into the largest hut, followed by Bill Weasley.

Sirius, upon confirming that he didn't need to be present for the meeting with Supervisor Deathspear and that Harry was perfectly safe, had transformed into his dog form and dove into the pool. His dog paddling amusing half of the pool's occupants and irritating the other half. Remus grumbled about keeping an eye on Sirius and followed his friend. Though, Remus's grumbles would have been more believable if he had not transfigured his clothes into a modest pair of swim trunks.

As Harry looked around the hut, he saw five wizards, two witches, and a dozen goblins (Harry was unable to differentiate between their sexes) who were all collected around various tables and studying various maps, books, and parchments.

"Supervisor Deathspear…" spoke Bill. A slim goblin looked up from a parchment covered in a series of numbers and figures that Harry could not comprehend.

"Ah… Albus" spoke Deathspear in a cultured English accent. "I see you have finally brought your new pupil to teach him the only profession worth knowing. Mister Potter, it is an honor to meet you."

Harry smiled in response. "It is an honor to meet you as well, Supervisor Deathspear. I look forward to learning all about wards… and…" Harry looked over at Albus with a smirk, and then looked back at the goblin. He then pulled up his months' old memory, and precisely spoke a phrase in Gobbledegook.

Deathspear along with the goblins and a couple humans all chuckled in response.

"Well," spoke Deathspear. "If you're going to memorize any phrase in my language, you could do much worse then telling me that goblins are awesome."

Albus's eyes twinkled in delight at Harry.

"However," Deathspear spoke in a suddenly serious tone. "I understand that you are in possession of the Sword of Gryffindor. Might I see it?"

Harry frowned in confusion. Looking up, he saw Albus's expression become stern as he pulled the sword out of one of his shrunken trunks. He handed Harry the sword. Harry awkwardly held the sword by the hilt as its blade pointed at the ceiling. Deathspear walked over and examined the sword without touching it.

"Remarkable… Jones, look at this craftmanship. Do you see how that edge is still honed? THAT is what Heartgnash was trying to describe to you when you asked for ways to distinguish Goblin-made blades from Human-made blades when searching a tomb."

A witch who appeared to be in her twenties had come over to peer at the sword closely. She started to reach out her hand to touch the edge when Deathspear knocked it away. Jones looked over at Deathspear, with a startled expression.

"Jones, what did you think you were doing?"

Jones appeared confused. "I was just going to test the sharpness."

Deathspear sighed in frustration. "Ignoring that is not yours to touch, would you do that with a sword you found in a tomb?"

Jones paled in response. "Of course not! I wouldn't know if it was poisoned or cursed or would set off a trap... I see! I'm sorry Supervisor Deathspear."

Deathspear's head simply shook in annoyance. "Heartgnash! I think Jones needs to be run through the basic training… again."

One of the goblins in the room spoke up. "Yes, Supervisor Deathspear!" Harry then heard the goblin mutter softly about how it would be nice to go a month without running someone through basic training.

Deathspear ignored the muttering and looked back at the witch. "For your information, Jones, this blade has recently been used to kill a basilisk and has been soaked in its venom. What does that tell you?"

Jones' face paled even further. "That cutting myself on the sword would be the same as being bit by a basilisk…"

Deathspear nodded in satisfaction at seeing the lesson sink in. "Weasley! Mister Potter here is in possession of a Goblin-made blade. Does that spark any concern for you?"

Bill looked at Harry and then Albus, who Harry noticed was rolling his eyes slightly, and gulped. "Sorry, Harry… Goblin-made blades, like all Goblin-made items are property of the Goblins. Wizards and Witches merely lease the creation for their lifetime. Upon their death, they are supposed to have all Goblin-made items returned to the creator, their family, or Gringotts. As such, Harry is holding what would be considered to be the rightful property of the Goblins."

Deathspear smiled evilly and looked towards Harry, making Harry feel nervous.

"Perhaps we should discuss Weasley's concerns in private Mister Potter."

Despite the cool temperature of the hut, Harry felt himself begin to sweat as he and Albus followed Deathspear into a private room of the hut.

As they entered the private room, Deathspear ran one finger across a line of runes etched into the door frame. The goblin then stared at Harry with a vicious grin.

After a few uncomfortable seconds, the grin transformed from vicious to amused. After which the goblin began to chuckle good naturedly.

Albus sighed. "Was that really necessary?"

"Perhaps not, but it was rather amusing."

Harry looked between Albus and Deathspear with confusion. "What is going on? I thought you were upset that I had the Sword of Gryffindor."

Deathspear moved over to a desk and picked up a jug of water, pouring three glasses while answering.

"Mister Potter, the only thing I am upset about is that you hold such an exquisite blade with such poor form. I do hope Albus is planning on finding you someone who can teach you to make the most of what you have there."

Deathspear looked over at Albus, who winced.

"It hadn't occurred to me. I'll make some enquiries, assuming Harry is interested of course."

Deathspear nodded with satisfaction. "Wonderful! And I do hope you think seriously on that offer Mister Potter, as you will of course be keeping the blade… well, assuming another 'True Gryffindor' doesn't have need for the blade and summons it away from you."

Harry looked at Deathspear in shock. "But… it's Goblin-made and…"

Deathspear held up a finger to interrupt Harry.

"Mister Potter, I am going to share a secret with you. Normally I wouldn't tell you this, however I am sure that Albus would share it with you if I didn't first. But, first, I have a question for you. Why do you think Gringotts trains and employees Curse Breakers?"

Harry furrowed his brow as he accepted a glass of ice-cold water. "I… I suppose you mean something more than breaking curses… and wards I guess… you mentioned tombs to that lady… so… you break the wards protecting tombs?"

"For the most part, that is correct. We also use our skills on occasion to safely accept spelled items as forms of payment, along with installing wards or tearing them down for clients. Our team's primary revenue stream though is to slowly work our way through magical tombs around the world and sell what we find to collectors."

"OK… but what does that have to do with Goblin-made items?"

Deathspear grinned. "If we really held to the belief that creations belong to the creator or their descendants, shouldn't we hunt down the descendants of the creators of each item we loot from the tombs? Failing that, shouldn't we give all Human-made creations to the local Human government free of charge? We may be well paid grave robbers Mister Potter, but we are not hypocrites."

Harry stared at the goblin in shock. "Then… then why did Bill think Goblin-made items belong to the goblin people?"

Deathspear shrugged with a smirk. "A few hundred years ago, one of our human employees was trying to learn our language and overheard two senior Curse Breakers sharing an old joke, which is much funnier when spoken in Gobbledegook. The thrust of the joke goes as follows. What are the two certainties of life? The first is that wealthy wizards will always buy Goblin-made goods. The second is that ownership of those Goblin-made goods will eventually revert to the Goblins when those wealthy wizards pass on. Now, the employee misunderstood and thought that meant his superiors were sharing a facet of Goblin society where we view our creations as being leased. In reality, it was a reflection of the fact that some of our people like creating things, and others of us like to loot the tombs of our old clients and so inevitably will regain possession of the creations of our people… along with everything else our old clients were buried with."

Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose and groaned. "And they didn't correct the wizard because…"

"Initially because it was funny. Then the rumor started to spread amongst the humans, and we started to see some humans giving their Goblin-made items to us for free with the hopes of currying favor, or negotiating for terms to pay us for extending the lease that never existed in the first place. So, while we have never explicitly confirmed the rumor, we encourage its spread."

"And Albus knows the truth?"

Albus chuckled and interjected at this point. "I can speak Gobbledegook, Harry. So, I have heard the original joke and discovered the truth a long time ago."

Deathspear smiled at Harry. "And that was frustrating, I'll tell you. When I tried to pull the prank on Albus, he already knew the truth. Luckily Albus was willing to not volunteer the truth to others, but I still missed being able to see him worried about the Goblin-made dagger he happened to have when I first met him. Considering how many times he caused me frustration I just wanted to pay him back a little. Unfortunately for you, Mister Potter, you were the handy tool."

Harry smiled. "I can understand wanting to get back at him…"

Harry's smile dimmed and turned into a frown. "Wait… does that mean Gringotts rips off people who are just trying to do the right thing by returning Goblin-made items?"

Deathspear shrugged. "Usually we are dealing with someone who is looking for something in return and we will take their motives into account. I will say that nearly every goblin who has a front-facing position at Gringotts is honorable enough to rebuff the rare witch or wizard who treats goblins with respect and is attempting to return the Goblin-made items because they believe the rumors and just want to do the right thing. We will tell them we are rewarding their kindness by gifting the item to them, or something along those lines. Of course, not all goblins at Gringotts are honorable … there is one cart runner who probably doesn't have enough honor to keep himself from backstabbing someone who just saved his life if there is a profit to be made, which is why he has not received a promotion in over two decades… and I probably shouldn't have shared that last part, so please keep it between us."

Harry nodded. "Of course! So… how did Albus frustrate you so much?"

Deathspear sighed. "When I first started in the field, about thirty years ago, Albus happened to be passing through the area to discuss the curses on some random dagger with my supervisor. He walked into the tomb we were in and he saw me about to set off a trap that would have my body melt, freeze, and shatter all while I could feel everything. Obviously, he stopped me, but it left my supervisor severely unimpressed with my skills and I was about to be fired. Albus then said he had a free month and was willing to train me in the basics, which gave me a reprieve. Unless his one on one teaching style has changed dramatically, I am guessing you understanding how quickly he can start to become frustrating. Especially as it so damn effective!"

Harry grinned and nodded, while Albus looked incredibly pleased with himself. "I think he's gotten worse. So, what about the sword?"

Deathspear grinned. "I'll tell the human employees that we came to an understanding. Now, do you want to rest first, or do you want to go to our training grounds and start making things explode?"

Harry's grin grew much wider.

It was two weeks later, and Harry was staring at a box.

Thanks to Albus incorporating the new ward detection and ward breaking spells into his training schedule, he had picked up the basic spells quickly. The rest of the training was still exhausting, as Remus and Sirius had also started to learn new tricks and forced Harry to continually new spells. Exhausting, but rewarding.

Sadly, the ward breaking was slow going. The detection spells filled his mind with collections of numbers, colors, figures, random sensations, and odd impressions upon his magic. As Albus and Deathspear explained, learning to interpret the results of the detection spells was a process that was a combination of study and experience. Technically he could get by on the introductory detection spell, assuming he was willing to spend his entire life devoted to learning how to interpret the results. Since he wanted to learn how to break wards effectively (where he didn't cause massive explosions… despite how satisfying they were to trigger to blow off steam) in less than a century, Remus was teaching him Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, while Deathspear was walking him through the additional detection spells that are used to narrow down the results.

Perenelle's book on wards provided a plethora of shortcuts that Harry could use, which he was eager to test out. Unfortunately, all her techniques assumed that one could visually see magic. Sadly, Albus had undersold how painful it was to see magic without outside aid. For the first week of attempts, Harry was able to stand the pain for almost a full second before losing his concentration. Harry found himself even more impressed by Albus's ability to make it seem so effortless. Eventually he managed to follow Albus's technique and use Occlumency to shunt the pain to a room in his mind. Even with that, the room still filled rapidly. As such, he could now manage a full ten seconds (two seconds spent with his eyes open, and the rest of the time with eyes screwed shut as he attempted to fight through the agony). For now, following Perenelle's advice remained a distant goal.

All of that led to Harry staring at a box.

The task was simple. Open the box and take the quill sitting inside the box.

Harry cast the basic detection spell. The feedback was mostly nonsensical, but he recognized the taste of cinnamon mixed with the shape of an eagle surrounded by an alternating series of sevens and twelves. He had seen that before in the family of wards that explode when physically touched.

Harry cast the explosive ward detection spell. The feedback returned with a sense of pleasure, indicating he was on the right path. He could taste the color magenta and… the rest made no sense. What the hell did tasting magenta mean? Was it the same as smelling light pink? If so, then a cooling charm on the left back corner followed by the basic ward break spell should do it…

Harry shrugged and cast the cooling charm and the ward break spell on the left back corner, body tensed as he awaited the explosion. And… no explosion!

Harry grinned as he walked slowly towards the box. He tentatively touched the box and was pleased that the box remained unharmed.

With a slow breath, he opened the lid. He looked inside to see the quill sitting there in all its ordinary glory. He then saw a tiny spark of flame at the nib of the quill. His eyes widened in shock as his senses screamed at the feel of a rapidly spreading column of magical power. He leapt backwards to the floor and did a backward shoulder roll when he hit the ground, in order to increase his distance. He looked up in time to see a gout of flame shoot ten feet into the air.

Harry sighed as he went to his desk to write down his notes, and then glared at the next box sitting on the floor. Maybe the fifteenth box would be a success (it wasn't).

That night, Harry was reviewing his notes in the hut he shared with Albus, Sirius, Remus, and Dobby. Albus read silently nearby (answering questions as Harry thought of them). Sirius, Remus, and Dobby were enjoying the evening swim at the pool.

Harry set aside his notes and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Standing up, he stretched his back and walked to the window and admired the pyramid gleaming white in front of him. As he took in the sight, his eyes flicked up and saw an airplane flying high overhead. A frown formed on his face.

"Albus?"

Albus looked up from his book. "Hmmm?"

"How do they keep this place invisible to the muggles?"

Albus smiled. "Ah, that is an interesting question. The answer is rather complicated, but the short answer is that they don't."

Harry looked at Albus's playful smile and felt himself smile in response to the older man's enthusiasm.

"Alright… they don't… so that means… the pyramid is naturally invisible?"

"An excellent deduction, Harry. However, you are making a faulty assumption."

Albus waved his wand at the trunk containing all his bookcases, as Harry furrowed his brow.

"I'm making an assumption? I… is… no, I'm lost. What is my assumption?"

Albus caught a book that zoomed through the air towards his head, and then turned back to Harry.

"What do you remember about our arrival here two weeks ago?"

Harry responded as Albus began to flip through the pages of the book. "I couldn't see anything, and then Bill keyed me into the wards. Then the pyramid and town became visible."

Albus looked up, holding the book open to a specific page as his eyes danced with delight. "Are you certain about that? Try to reexamine the memory using your Occlumency skills."

Harry raised an eyebrow in response but nodded and closed his eyes. He entered his room that contained that specific memory. He quickly lifted and unfolded the memory and found himself reliving the moment.

Albus apparated him to the middle of a desert. He looked around, seeing a tiny town surrounding a magnificent pyramid. His eyes flitted over that and he determined that he was surrounded by nothing but empty desert.

He asked where they were and then joked with Sirius and Remus about the lack of anything to see.

Dobby then said, "Dobby likes the pool!"

He asked Dobby what he was talking about but stopped talking as he saw the elf rush towards the beautiful pool and then snag a butterbeer from an inattentive wizard and conjure a crazy straw. Harry felt shock at Dobby disappearing in thin air.

Bill Weasley arrived eventually. He waved his waved towards Harry, with the town and pyramid directly behind him. Harry felt shock as he could suddenly see the town and pyramid.

Harry stopped reliving his memory, repacked it, and returned his attention to the real world. He opened his eyes and stared at Albus in shock.

"What the hell was that?"

Albus responded with incredibly pleased tone. "Yes, that can be a disconcerting experience. Before I answer, let me give you a hint."

Albus handed the book to Harry. He looked down at the open page and saw a very familiar sight.

"It's Hogwarts. How is that a hint?"

"What is the title of the book?"

Harry kept a hold of the current page as he flipped to the cover. "It's called 'Castles of the British Isles'"

Harry looked up at Albus and saw the older man's expectant expression. Harry looked back down at the book in confusion. He knew he was missing something, but he couldn't place it. He looked at the dust jacket for clues. He turned it over to see a picture of the author. He flipped through the pages to see if there was a clue there, but all he saw was more castles. He was looking at Windsor Castle when he paused. He flipped through the pages quickly, looking at the different pictures. He looked at the author once again, the perfectly ordinary looking man wearing an ordinary jacket and tie staying completely still (not moving, like every other picture in the book). Finally, he looked at the bottom of the back of the dust jacket and saw a bar code. He then flipped back to the picture of Hogwarts, in all her glory, and then stared at Albus in shocked horror.

"This is a muggle book! There is a picture of Hogwarts in a muggle book! Muggles know where Hogwarts is, and they have pictures to prove it! This is…" Harry's initial shock died down as his mind caught up with the fact that Albus knew all about the book and was not concerned. He took a breath and continued speaking in a calmer tone of voice. "Why isn't this a disaster?"

Albus beamed with pride. "I continue to be nothing but pleased in the continued growth of your critical thinking skills. Let us see if you can put it all together with one more hint."

While Albus had not been stingy with his heartfelt praise of Harry over the past months, it still pleased him greatly to receive said praise. As such, a smiling Harry rolled his eyes as he responded. "Fine, we'll play it your way. What's the hint?"

"King's Cross."

Harry narrowed his eyes in concentration. What did King's Cross Station have to do with anything? It felt like a lifetime ago when he and Albus had passed through the station to catch the train to Paris. The current conversation had first started because he saw a plane in the sky… did it have something to do with modes of transport? Was he hinting that the answer could be found with the train to Hogwarts? No… that didn't seem right. That wouldn't explain the picture of Hogwarts… well, probably… Magic was weird after all. But Albus would have said Hogwarts Express as the hint… probably… maybe… he was pretty good at coming up with irritating clues. He should focus on the station first. What was special about the station itself?

Harry entered his mind again to pull out the memory of his visit there with Albus… oh!

"The wards…" Harry gasped. "The wards at King's Cross heighten people's disbelief in magic! People can still hear about magic, see students walk through the barrier, and I guess even see someone perform minor spells. They see it, but they dismiss it immediately. But, if you have magic or are keyed into the wards, then you won't dismiss it."

Albus nodded encouragingly. "And what does that tell you about this town?"

"That it uses the same wards? No… no… not the same, because King's Cross's wards did not work on magical people. But the wards work on us all, unless keyed in… or a House Elf I suppose. So… based on the same principal but made stronger?"

Albus nodded once again. "Indeed. As an aside, the King's Cross wards are more complex because they need to allow for non-magical people to be unaffected if keyed in. The wards here can be stronger because they don't need to allow for the extraordinarily complex spell work that is required to key in non-magical people in a way that can be quickly revoked and secure enough so that it is highly improbable for unauthorized witches or wizards to perform the keying. Now, let's continue on with your deductions, what are your thoughts of that picture of Hogwarts?"

Harry looked back down at the picture pensively. "Does Hogwarts have similar protections, where muggles can't see the castle?"

"Read the description of the castle while taking note of the printed location."

Harry did so and his eyebrows rose in surprise. "It says it's a ruined collection of stones that has been condemned due to its lack of structural integrity. And its location is… it looks like the location has been blurred out through some sort of printing error, where all I can see is that it is in Scotland."

"Hogwarts is unplottable. That means you can't record the location in any form."

Harry nodded in confusion. "So… muggles see something different from witches and wizards, even in pictures? And the unplottable feature means that the printing is blurred out? So that means… the wards are designed to prevent muggles from recognizing Hogwarts, this town, or displays of magic at King's Cross. That makes sense, I suppose. Does that mean that the wards were updated to affect cameras?"

"You are close. Well done. The truth is that the wards didn't need to be updated at all. The wards are made to influence how unauthorized individuals process the information in their minds. It doesn't matter how the information is conveyed. Be it photographs, security video cameras, telescopes, portraits, written notes, spoken word, satellite imagery, or any other form. Magic only cares about fulfilling the goal of the wards, it doesn't care about the details."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "The wards are that powerful?"

Albus shrugged. "I would say they are that versatile. They are powerful enough against those without the ability to counter the magic, especially non-magical people. However, if you know one of the counters, wards designed to modify how the mind processes information are rather easy to overcome for one with magic. For instance, had you immediately examined your memory when we arrived outside the wards, you would have seen through them and not need to be keyed in. Well, into the wards that prevented you from seeing anything, the detection wards and defense wards would still have to be accounted for. And, as you have been taught, wards always have additional weaknesses."

Albus paused to compose his thoughts. "While there are always exceptions when talking about magic, I have found that magic tends to make you choose between versatility and power. The wards keeping people from noticing this town are versatile, where the warders don't need to think of every detail, but that makes those wards easier to break or bypass. Conversely, your practice boxes are not versatile, the warder must decide on every detail, but that makes the wards incredibly powerful… well, they are intentionally underpowered, but they have the potential for being much more powerful."

Harry thought on what he heard. Then an idea occurred to him. "Is that why the Fidelius Charm was something my parents willing to risk our lives on?"

Albus nodded sadly. "The Fidelius Charm is an incredibly powerful and it requires great specificity. One needs to specify exactly what is the secret, with great precision to the definitions of everything in the secret, without room for intent. As evidenced by how the charm broke that night because it was intimately connected to the pluralization of the Potter name."

Harry nodded slowly. After several moments, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Ignoring the need for being detailed, the Fidelius Charm had one major weak point, the Secret Keeper. Perenelle's book said that all wards have at least one weak point, and often multiple weak points, though they are hard to exploit unless you are an expert in wards or can see the magic. Does the number of weak points dictate where a spell falls on the scale between power and versatility?"

Albus leaned back, stroking his beard in thought. "That… I have not thought of it like that before. Very intriguing… It's possible that you are correct, with the ever-present caveat of…"

"Magic is weird, I know."

Albus smiled. "Quite! Now, we would need to run some tests. Do you have any thoughts?"

Harry leaned back in his own chair, deep in contemplation. After several minutes, he glanced over at the doors to Remus and Sirius's rooms. A devious grin formed on his lips. He then shared his idea with Albus, who chuckled and helped Harry to begin with planning, and laying out the new spells he would need to learn.

One week later, Sirius and Remus walked into the hut after their nightly swim. Dobby was still in the pool, half-heartedly fending off the romantic advances of several Goblin ladies.

When they walked into the main living room of the hut, they both stopped in surprise to see a clothesline extending the length of the room, with everyone's clothes hanging from the line.

"Umm… Harry?"

Harry looked up from his book to look at Sirius.

"Yes, Sirius?"

"What's up with…" Sirius waved his hand at the clothes.

Harry glanced over at the clothes ion confusion. "Huh? Oh! Right! There was an… incident earlier. It's a long story, but it ends with Albus and I deciding it was best to not try cleaning everyone's clothes with magic and… well, you can see they're now on a clothesline. I am sure you can put together the rest."'

Remus stared at the clothes pensively. "Are they safe?"

"As far as I know. Albus?"

Albus looked up from his own book and stared at the clothes intently. "They appear to be safe to me. Unless you or Sirius did something to them, but that would of course be your own affair. In fact, I think I would like to get into my robes."

Sirius barked out a laugh as Albus stood, revealing he was wearing a pair of swim trunks with printed fish magically swimming arounds his legs with joyful abandon and then occasional loop de loop. He was also wearing a T-Shirt that had a picture of a black-haired boy wearing glasses with a familiar lightning bolt scar who was swimming in a pool, with the words "The Boy Who Swimmed" emblazoned underneath the pool. Albus ignored the laughter as he pulled at one of his robes (this one covered in pyramids with a sphinx prancing around their bases). The robes did not come off the line.

Sirius and Remus quieted as they looked at the clothesline with suspicion.

Albus sighed. "Right, I forgot." He then pulled out his wand and cast a silent spell at the robes. They then came off the line with ease. He then slipped the robes on over his clothes and sat back down to read.

Remus stared at Harry and Albus who were both innocently reading their books.

"What did you two do?"

Harry and Albus apparently developed sudden deafness as they both read their books with an increased sense of innocence.

Remus shook his head, as he looked over at Sirius who was tugging on a pair of his trousers with all his might. They remained stuck to the clothesline. Remus ignored Sirius's antics and walked over to one of his shirts.

With a tentative tug, he confirmed that that the shirt was not coming off the line. The shirt itself could be batted about, but it stayed firmly connected to the line. And the line itself did not move at all.

Remus looked over at Sirius, who was now swinging from the legs of his trousers. The trousers still hung from the line without any apparent distress.

Remus pointed his wand at his shirt and cast a silent Finite to end the spell's effects. He pulled on the shirt, with no success. He shook his head, without showing any true sense of surprise. He apparently saw some movement in the corner of his eye and turned in time to see Albus lowering his wand that had been pointing at Harry. Both Harry and Albus continued to read their books innocently, this time with golden halos hovering above their heads. Remus rolled his eyes and looked back at his shirt.

Remus walked over to one of the walls where the clothesline was anchored. As Sirius had clambered on top of the line and was currently precariously balanced, with his hands holding the ceiling as his feet balanced on his trousers, Remus cast a severing charm on the clothesline.

The line remained floating, unmoving, and unyielding. Remus sighed and severed the other end of the line and confirmed the line and clothes remained where they were in the air.

"Well played, you two. I'll try to figure this out tomorrow. I'm going to get some sleep. Good night."

"Good night" both Albus and Harry spoke with amusement.

"Sirius!"

"Hmmm?" spoke Sirius, who was currently attempting to walk along the length of the floating clothesline.

"Good night!"

"Night Moo… WHOA!"

With a thud, Sirius landed on the ground. With a grin he walked back to his trousers to clamber up for another time. "Good night Moony!"

It would take Remus two days to figure out how to pull down his clothes.

It would take one more week before Sirius finally was able to figure out the trick to taking down his clothes was to cast a simple Finite aimed to only hit a specific point on each article of clothing. Though, whether that was because Sirius couldn't figure it out, wanted to successfully walk the full length of the clothesline, or just enjoyed having an excuse to only wear a pair of swim trunks and a towel, Harry wasn't sure.

14. Chapter 14

Harry looked around the hut in which he had spent the past two months of his life. It was the day before Halloween, and they were leaving for England after the final test of Harry's progress with warding (both creating and dismantling). Albus had already packed all his own possessions, which only left Harry's possessions.

Harry focused on the packing spell as he concentrated on the final state of his trunk. With a swirl of his wand, all his possessions zoomed from every corner of the room towards the open lid. The clothes neatly folded on their own, with precise folds to ensure the most efficient packing while avoiding crumpling. His books hovered over the trunk until the clothes were properly placed, and then they shuffled into the trunk in neat alphabetized stacks. His remaining possessions then fit themselves in to the free space, leaving an open area for his box of letters which he had kept from being packed. The Sword of Gryffindor ended up leaning against the trunk, held in a dragon hide sheath that Deathspear had gifted him.

He smiled at the packed trunk. His first attempts at the spell had ended up leaving him with a mass of wadded up clothes, haphazardly placed books, and a trunk that was so overstuffed that closing it would require forceful magic which would likely break the spines of most of his books. Well, it could be closed if Albus expanded the interior, all Harry had to do was to admit "being defeated by a box" (Harry knew he was being manipulated, but it still worked to get him to keep working on the spell).

At first, he had tried to focus on every detail of the packing process. He hadn't realized how many steps there were in folding a single shirt until he had to explicitly picture every miniscule detail that he normally was able to do by hand without thought. Annoyingly, getting one shirt folded properly did not apply to the other shirts, so just folding his shirts required him to precisely memorize over a hundred steps. Even with his Occlumency skills, it was easy to forget one step, which would then cascade into chaos.

As it turned out, he figured out the trick as he reviewed his warding notes and remembered Albus talking about magic trading off between power and versatility.

Since that conversation (and subsequent pranking of Sirius and Remus), he had mainly concerned himself with improving the power of his wandless magic (which still required direct touching), by intentionally focusing all the weakness of the magic into a single spot. It had worked wonders when he had performed a wandless levitation on the clothesline and clothes (Albus had cast the spells to reinforce the clothes from tearing). His wandless spells were already difficult to cancel by others, but the act of focusing all weakness into one randomly placed and absurdly weak spot caused the rest of the spelled item to become nearly impervious to cancellation spells (they weren't impervious to Albus's overpowered cancellation spells, but that was hardly a fair baseline).

He had been so focused on sacrificing versatility to increase power, that he hadn't thought of sacrificing power for versatility. As Albus had said, "Magic only cares about fulfilling the goal of the wards, it doesn't care about the details."

With that realization, the packing process became better with each attempt. As his picture of the end goal of the packed truck became clearer, the neater the folding became along with the increased precision of the packing itself.

He had his breakthrough eight days prior and had taken many notes whenever he had thoughts on when less powerful and more versatile versions of his spell repertoire could come in handy. Specifically, to figure out a way to pull another prank on Albus. The man was incredibly wily, and so Harry was keeping his newfound versatility to himself until the time was right to strike.

With a satisfied sigh, he turned away from his trunk to look at his box of letters.

Opening the box, he looked at the expanded interior and the neat stacks of letters. One stack contained his personal correspondence. All the other stacks contained the MANY fan letters.

He was still not comfortable having fans and would prefer to not have to deal with people who wanted to talk to The Boy Who Lived. However, he had discovered that it wasn't so bad dealing with his fans when it was not in person. It was certainly less annoying dealing with Colin Creevey's daily fawning when it was only through letters.

In the first three weeks of opening his post box, he had received nearly a thousand letters. Surprisingly, only a few dozen of them had any magic or potions applied to them (Albus had requested he inspect every letter, and Harry agreed. While Dobby didn't ask for permission and inspected them proactively, to be fair the elf had experience with intercepting Harry's mail already). After Albus took note of the sender, he would forward the letter on to appropriate law enforcement agency (depending on country of origin). For the more offensive cases, Dobby would merely disappear and return later that day with a smug look on his face. Harry felt it was best to not ask what Dobby had done to look so smug.

Most of the letters were simple missives from adults, thanking Harry for stopping "You Know Who" and offering condolences for his lost parents. Some even offered stories about his parents or grandparents. Those received a simple thank you letter in return (with additional thanks to those who shared stories about his family).

If the letters talked about specific family members who were killed before Harry had stopped Tom (sometimes in an angry tone, implying Harry should have stopped "You Know Who" earlier), Harry wrote back and asked them to tell him stories about the lives of those who had died. Harry, feeling very uncomfortable, had wanted to just write something like "I'm sorry". However, Gilderoy had convinced Harry to be empathetic and ask questions to give the people a chance to remember their lost family. Well, Gilderoy had said "Harry, Harry, Harry, people love sharing their pain, so it is important to be good at faking empathy to fool them into believing you care", but Harry was used to filtering the man's cynicism out of his advice. Those who had responded to his queries (even the initially angry ones) were mostly grateful for the chance to share their stories. While the stories could be depressing (or disturbing), Harry did feel his heart warm and seeing the letters change to a happier tone.

The letters from his former classmates were annoying, but he still responded politely. Albus helped to craft the responses there, using his greater insight to each student's psyche (he was a bit like Olivander, except he never forgot a student instead of never forgetting a wand). Harry chose to ignore his instinct of telling every one of them to go screw themselves, and instead pretended like he accepted their apologies (he no longer felt the anger, but it didn't mean he was free of bitterness). In the case of Colin Creevey, he told the excitable boy that he was "very busy" and so could only respond once a month (not that it decreased the volume of letters he received from the superfan, but it seemed to appease him).

In all fairness, not all the fan mail was a chore. He did find himself enjoying the letters from the very young children. They were mainly writing to the Harry Potter of their bedtime stories, who was their hero. Those kids received autographed copies of their favorite book of the series along with personalized notes. Those were often followed up by thank you notes from grateful parents along with adorable photographs of the children waving joyously at Harry, while holding up the autographed book. Harry found immense satisfaction in helping to add to the happiness to the childhood of the very young.

Luckily, after the initial onslaught of letters, their flow slowed down to a trickle of around a dozen a fortnight (excluding the daily letters from Colin).

It was just as well that the flow had decreased, as Gilderoy had found himself becoming busier. He had discovered the term "PR Firm" in the muggle world, and found his passion ignited. Albus connected Gilderoy with a former Hogwarts Professor by the name of Horace Slughorn (who had a large network of famous friends), and the two had created the magical world's first PR Firm. They had quickly become a highly sought-after firm to handle the public image of the cream of the crop of celebrity witches and wizards. This was helped by Gilderoy's newly formed (yet serious) romantic relationship with a reporter named Rita Skeeter (Gilderoy had gushed about her being a perfect match as "she is as committed to sharing the truth as I am").

Harry looked away from the fan mail and looked at his personal correspondence.

While it wasn't at the top of the stack, he knew Ron's letter was in there. He had finally heard from his former friend at the beginning of October. It wasn't as long as a normal Hermione letter, but was practically a novel based on Ron's standards. Apparently, Ron had still been convinced that Harry would be coming back to Hogwarts any day now. It had taken many conversations with McGonagall (who was now taking her role as Head of House seriously and had embraced the idea of the students being her children by being emotionally supportive, taking the time to help them with problems both personal and scholastic, and defending them against Snape) before Ron understood that he had truly lost Harry. The letter was a surprisingly honest apology where Ron admitted that he had been "an utter prat". Harry had written back to accept the apology. Other than that response, Harry didn't feel much pressure to pursue renewing the friendship and would wait to see if Ron tried writing further letters to rebuild their relationship.

On the other hand, his relationship with Hermione had been improving. She had taken his concerns to heart and seemed to be working towards becoming a better friend and less enamored by books and authority. She had been reading books on teenage rebellion and had been committing epic acts of bucking authority (although they were mainly epic because Hermione would write at least ten pages for each incident). The first act of rebellion was that she had snuck a candy bar (with sugar) into her house and eaten almost a full half of it before throwing out the rest and hiding it from her dentist parents.

The latest act of rebellion was when she set off a dung bomb in the dungeons of Hogwarts, though she of course ended up having to clean it all up. Harry had received a letter from the twins also sharing their take on the "epic" prank. Hermione had come to the duo and asked to be trained by them. They had agreed as both an act of repentance to Harry and because they could not pass up the opportunity to corrupt a junior Percy. From the twins' description, Hermione was mainly helping with Research and Development (coming up with some innovative ideas) but had been itching to perform a prank of her own. So, she went down to a disused area of the dungeons and set off the dung bomb. An hour before curfew, she panicked, snuck down and cleaned up the mess before it had been discovered, and was back in bed before curfew.

Harry smiled as he pictured how panicked and thrilled his former… err… his frien… umm… his friendly acquaintance must have been. He knew she could perform incredible feats of rebellion, but that was when lives were on the line. Rebellion for its own sake went against all her instincts. So, he was proud of her and was finding her to become someone he could see calling a friend again someday (not yet, but maybe someday).

Harry turned his attention to the table where he could see one last letter. It was from Sirius and had arrived that morning. He and Remus had been gone for the past week. Sirius was testifying at the trial of the Ministry official who was taking the fall for him being imprisoned without trial. One of the unintended side effects of Harry's responding to fan mail had been a marked improvement in Harry's public image, which in turn increased the public demand that justice be served for Harry (and his godfather they supposed). It took a while before the pressure mounted to sufficient levels, but Minister Fudge decided the time was right to take the bold stance of bending to the will of the public.

Harry wasn't sure if the official, Bartemius Crouch, was going to be convicted. But it appeared that people were exceptionally angry at him, as his house had been burned down a few days after he had been placed in a Ministry holding cell. Sirius assured Harry that neither he nor Remus had anything to do with the act of arson, but they were also certainly not broken up about the event.

Harry smiled with a sense of contentment filling his heart. He would see the pair of pranksters tomorrow (tonight was the full moon, so Remus would be curled up at Sirius's home as Albus and Harry stayed at the bowling alley). He placed Sirius's letter on top of his stack of personal correspondence, closed the box, placed the box in the open space of his trunk, and closed the trunk. He then layered three locking and protection wards to protect his possessions (this was more for practice, for while it would be effective against most magical people, it might as well be unlocked if encountered by an experienced ward breaker). Albus would shrink the trunk later, as Harry had not gotten the hang of shrinking containers which were internally expanded (especially when those containers held other containers which were internally expanded).

Harry then grabbed the sheathed Sword of Gryffindor and strapped it to his back. Albus had enchanted the sheath to make the sword and sheath invisible and unnoticeable, even to those who happened to physically touch it.

With a fond look at the hut, he walked out for the last time to attend his final test.

Harry was staring at an innocent box, the size of a bread box, sitting on a plain wooden table.

It was the final box of twenty-three, each one representative of the twenty-three elementary warding schemes. According to Bill Weasley, an applicant to the ward breaking program of Gringotts was required to pass this test within half an hour before they were even brought in for a face to face interview. Harry had so far bypassed the prior twenty-two wards, and it so far had only taken twenty minutes (give or take two hours… or three hours… it had been a bit more than three hours already). He focused his attention on this final box.

He cast the general ward detection spell. He smelled the sound of a child's laugh, saw seven runes related to power rotating around a red eyeball, and felt the hairs on the left side of his neck stand on end. So, this was in the family of wards that were conditionally powered by… by… humor? NO! The hairs on the right side of his neck were not standing, and it was seven runes instead of eleven. Sarcastic humor!

The way to deal with this ward was… was… damn it! What was it? He had only read about this ward scheme yesterday, and he hadn't read about how to handle all the different emotional cases. But emotion wards were definitely affected by emotion-based spells. At this point, Harry only had two emotion-based spells in his arsenal.

Shrugging, Harry pictured the box transforming into an easily opened box containing an oversized treacle tart, and…

"RIDIKULUS!"

The spell for handling a Boggart shot at the box and… nothing.

"Well, it was worth a shot."

Harry stared at the box in contemplation. That left one spell to try. However, pure happiness didn't feel like it would do the trick. But… what if the happy memory was also a moment of sarcastic humor? Maybe he could overload the ward somehow.

His mind went back and conjured up the moment when he, Albus, Remus, Sirius, and Dobby had been relaxing together one evening in their shared hut. Sirius was wondering why Lucius Malfoy had been so willing to help get him pardoned.

"Maybe he's not as bad as I remember him being."

Harry then rolled his eyes. "Yes, Sirius. Malfoy is a paragon of goodness."

"And he is not being the worst Master a House Elf could ever have" piped in Dobby.

"And a happily firm defender of those with non-magical parents" included Albus.

"And the best friend of werewolves everywhere" spoke Remus.

"Fine… fine! He's still the worst, but why would he help?" laughed Sirius.

Harry and Albus shared glances, but before they could say anything, Dobby snapped his fingers and Sirius found himself with a mouth stuffed with birthday cake.

"Dobby be thinking Doggy Man be making Dobby think too much about Bad Master!"

Harry left the memory, holding on to the joy, the sarcastic tone, and Sirius's wide eyes as he choked down a slice of cake the size of his head. As an extra step, he then pictured himself casting his spell as if he was only doing it as a sarcastic joke.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry bellowed ironically.

A familiar white phoenix burst from his wand. He felt the normal peace of the Patronus, but the peace felt slightly off. It was likely he was being slightly insulted, and the phoenix was rolling its non-existent eyes.

Harry directed the Patronus to envelop the warded box in front of him. The box began vibrating slowly. The box started to shimmer with a pale-yellow light. The vibrations started to speed up. The shimmer's hue started to darken around the center of the box.

Harry directed his Patronus to float through the center of the box. The vibrations started to become violent. The shimmer's hue became even darker near the center of the top front edge of the box.

Harry directed his Patronus to pour all its energy at the darker area. The box was vibrating so intensely that he could feel it through the floor. There was now a single spot of dark yellow (nearly black) at a position 1.5 inches left of the center of the top front edge.

Harry cast the general ward disabling charm, directed right at the spot. It was the sort of spell that only worked if the exact right spot was hit or if the ward was insanely weak, so normally it had limited to no use. And… the box stopped vibrating instantly and the shimmer disappeared.

Eyes widening in excitement, he dispelled the Patronus. With a final cast of the detection spell, nothing pinged.

Cautiously, he approached the table holding the box, his senses at full attention. He opened the lid of the box and looked inside. There was a small piece of parchment with the number of "23" written on it. This was the final test. If he was able to lift the parchment without it burning, then it would be a success.

And… success!

Slow clapping startled him out of his silent jubilations. Turning around, he saw both Albus and Deathspear standing behind him.

"Well done, Mister Potter" spoke Deathspear. "While the Patronus trick was not the normally accepted response, it still worked I suppose. You are now good enough that if you were applying for a job, you would be asked to try again in a few years as opposed to be charged a fee for wasting everyone's time."

Harry smiled broadly. Deathspear was very personable outside of training, but during training you had to excel to get anything better than a backhanded compliment. Considering that Harry barely understood what he was doing for each box, that backhanded compliment made him feel like he had just caught the snitch and singlehandedly won the Quidditch Cup.

Seeing the pride in Albus's eyes was the icing on the cake.

"Thanks, Deathspear! So, did I win our bet?"

Deathspear frowned. "You did not complete the challenge in the allotted time."

Albus chuckled. "As I recall, the bet only required Harry to get each slip of parchment from the boxes. You did not specify the time frame."

"It was implied!"

Harry smirked playfully. "It's OK, Deathspear. If you don't want to honor the bet, I understand."

Deathspear stared piercingly at Harry. After half a minute of staring at the young boy who struggled to maintain a mask of pure innocence, the goblin huffed.

"Fine! You have earned the right to have us call each other by our proper first names. Are you happy… Harry?"

Harry's eyes sparkled in delight. "I will be, once you tell me your proper first name."

Deathspear grumbled.

Harry spoke encouragingly. "What's the big deal? Jeff didn't mind telling me his name."

Deathspear scoffed dismissively. "Of course, HE doesn't, he mainly works with Albus and people that Albus likes. Even those Goblins not from the village know about the Miracle at Dewbrook and give Albus his due respect for singlehandedly preventing the worst massacre of Goblins in centuries. But for those who live there, he is nearly worshipped. Do you know how many Goblin mothers have tried to either adopt Albus or offer to have one of their children marry him?"

Harry looked over at Albus, who shrugged while being clearly embarrassed. "I'm a bit too old to be adopted. And, no matter how nice the offers of marriage are, I am not… ready to settle down."

Harry smiled at his mentor, and then turned back to Deathspear. "Well, I'm also not ready to settle down, so I'll settle for your name for now."

Deathspear huffed in mock annoyance. "Fine. My name is", followed by a harsh guttural string of sounds that made Harry decide he needed to have Albus teach him Gobbledegook.

"But you can feel free to shorten that and just call me… Liz."

Harry grinned.

Liz narrowed her eyes menacingly. "Remember, if you call me that in front of my subordinates, I will make sure you know why I chose the name Deathspear when I was hired by Gringotts!"

Harry's smile did not dissipate. "No problem, Liz! Can I write to you some time?"

Liz chuckled. "Sure, Harry. And… only if he is interested… you can let Dobby know he can write to me as well… if he wants to that is…"

For the entire trip back to England, Harry could not stop beaming at the memory of his first sight of a goblin blushing.

Harry stood outside of Albus's room, staring at the closed the door.

It was two in the morning, and the older man was deep asleep. After arriving at the Lord Bowl-Some-More bowling alley, Harry had made sure they played as many games as possible to help tire out his mentor. It was vitally important that the man was exhausted. Please let him be asleep!

With a calming breath, Harry focused on the door and activated his ability to see magic.

Albus was unaware of how far Harry can come along with this ability. Once Harry had begun to think on ways to make his spells more versatile, he couldn't help but apply those thoughts to his technique for holding back the excruciating stabbing pain in his eyes that accompanied seeing magic.

He had realized his problem was that he was trying to emulate Albus. Albus had decades of practice to create a room in his mind that could handle a scarily immense amount of pain (where the pain in the eyes took up an insignificant fraction of the space). Harry's room was growing bigger, but at the rate he was going it would likely take at least a year to reach one minute of pain free sight. A large part of Albus's training sessions (which had only gotten more intense over time) was encouraging Harry to learn how to recognize his own weaknesses and then figure out how to keep them from becoming liabilities (or minimize the scope of the liability). And Harry had decided it was time to stop letting his small room be a liability.

His primary issue had been that he was fine until the room was filled, and then the door to the room would become strained and eventually burst open and flood him with mind-searing pain.

However, if spells became more versatile as he added weak points, then perhaps he should change tactics from enforcing the single weak point of his door to instead adding many more weak points. His image of the room transformed into a small room filled with weak windows. That small room was then placed into a slightly bigger room, also filled with weak windows. And that was then placed in the main room, that was also filled with weak windows. He also pictured all the windows being opened just a smidge.

As he activated his ability to see magic, the pain started to fill the smallest room. The pain trickled out of the cracks into the middle room, which then trickled a smaller amount to the biggest room, which then trickled out a tiny fraction to Harry. Instead of feeling no pain, his eyes felt like they were straining as if he had been reading all day in a poorly lit room. It was a pain he could handle.

Eventually, the withheld pain would become too much, and would start shattering the windows starting in the smallest room and working outward. The flow of pain reaching his eyes would only increase as time progressed, but now it was be a steadier increase instead of the flash flood of pain he would feel with the single door. He had reached a maximum endurance time of nine minutes before the pain was too great, though that was a stretch and eight minutes was the more realistic time.

Hopefully, he would need far less than eight minutes tonight.

He stared at the door and saw a sheen of blue covering its surface. There were no odd sensations, numbers circling runes, or anything else that a normal ward breaker would encounter. It was simply magic revealing itself to him. Recalling Perenelle's book, he looked for places in the ward where the blue seemed to swirl (each color had its own approaches, and blue indicated that it would have set off an alarm if a normal detection spell had been cast). Finding only three swirls, he cast Perenelle's custom spells at them in a clockwise pattern.

The blue magic dissipated, leaving a magic-free door.

With a silent prayer, he reached out and grasped the doorknob and… wait!

Sirius's pranking lessons came to mind. It was always the simple things that would trip up a prankster. Harry looked at the hinges of the door and cast a Marauder invented spell for removing squeaks from hinges. It was important to use the Marauder spell because the well-known silencing spells were easier to counter or setup detection wards against. Custom spells were the key to taking on big game, and they didn't come much bigger than a prepared Albus Dumbledore.

Harry grasped the doorknob, turned, and pulled. The door opened silently. Peering into the room, he saw Albus still sleeping soundly. That was good.

What was not good was the complex web of magic covering every surface of the inside of the room, along with the shell surrounding Albus's sleeping form. Harry had enough belief in Perenelle's research in wards that he felt confident that he could eventually bring down every ward he saw. He just doubted he would be able to successfully do it without waking Albus, and certainly not within the remaining five minutes he likely had before the pain forced him to stop seeing magic.

Luckily, he had planned for this likelihood.

Harry touched his pants and shirt, reinforcing the material to the strongest he could manage.

Once he was certain the clothes wouldn't rip, he lied down flat on his stomach. His body lying parallel to the hall wall opposite Albus's open door.

Once again, he touched his pants and shirt with one hand, and focused on the levitation spell. He felt his body press firmly into the front of his clothes as both articles began to levitate while holding his body inside them. With his free hand against the wall, he dragged his clothes upward (and thus his body as well). When he reached the proper height, he then rotated his body until his feet were pressing against the wall, and his head was poking through the doorway.

He looked forward and saw that he had a magic-free corridor to float through. He just had to avoid touching any portion of the bed, walls, or any physical item within the room. With the pain in his eyes now ramped up to feel like he was aggressively pressing his thumbs into his pupils, he stopped himself from seeing the magic. The downside of his new technique was that it would take several minutes for the pain to drain away, but it had been six minutes well spent and would hopefully be worth it.

With a small flex of his feet, he pushed against the wall and began to glide forward towards the space above Albus's bed. His hand held in front of his chest. As he passed over Albus, unable to stop his forward momentum. He cast the touch version of Aguamenti. The wand-based version of the spell would shoot a stream of water at whatever the wand was pointing at, but he dared not discover if Albus had additional defenses to detect wands or wand-based magic. His wandless version was normally useless, as it had no stream and just generated a giant blob of water that gravity immediately asserted control over and just resulted in a soaked floor. In this case, however, gravity asserted control right onto Albus's face.

Harry had a fraction of a second to celebrate before he a wand whipped up with unbelievable speed and he saw a flash of red light.

With a shock he became aware again. Turning his head, he saw Albus standing completely soaked. His eyes sparkled with mirth.

"I apologize for stunning you, Harry. My reflexes got ahead of me."

Harry merely grinned like a loon.

"Do you need help getting back to your room?"

Harry laughed. "Just nudge me towards the door, please."

Albus chuckled as he nudged Harry and watched his body glide through the air.

"I'm impressed by your innovation. We'll have to brainstorm ways to add this as a secret weapon to your arsenal."

As Harry worked his way down the wall to his room he spoke loudly. "Looking forward to it!"

"You probably could have just cancelled the spell and walked to your room by now. I presume you know that?"

"YEP!"

Harry heard Albus chuckling deeply. "You know, now that you have shown your hand, you've just proven that you are ready to increase the intensity of your training."

Harry grinned widely as he hovered over his bed, even though he knew future Harry would be paying the price. For now, though, that was future Harry's problem. His final words for the night were shouted at the top of his lungs with delight.

"WORTH IT!"

He cancelled his levitation and crashed onto his bed.

His final thought before drifting off to sleep was that Albus was going to make him up his game yet again to successfully pull off another prank. It was probably going to be a while before he got another victory.

He couldn't wait!

15. Chapter 15

"… and I am so grateful for Minister Fudge's quick response in freeing my godfather and his diligence in ensuring justice has been meted out by punishing Mister Crouch for his role in Sirius's unjust imprisonment. Thanks to the Minister, I was able to rest easy and focus on my opportunity to learn the basics of warding from the Masters of the craft at Gringotts."

Harry was happy to know that his first interview with a member of the press was ending. He couldn't understand how Gilderoy could thrive amongst reporters. After half an hour and making sure to recite some rehearsed phrases about the Minister, he was exhausted and craved to never give another interview. On the bright side, he finally got to meet Gilderoy's girlfriend. Having spent nearly thirty minutes in a one-on-one setting with Rita Skeeter, he could honestly say he understood how the two matched so well. The main difference seeming to be that Gilderoy liked to steal stories he thought were accurate but attributed to the wrong person (aka Gilderoy), and Rita liked to have her Quick-Quotes Quill write inaccurate stories that were attributed to the right person (aka Rita's target). Thankfully, she had directed her quill to be complimentary of Harry.

Rita smiled broadly and nodded (Harry struggled to ignore how her elaborate blonde curls remained so curiously rigid) and looked over the top of her jeweled spectacles, piercing Harry with her eyes. For some reason, he found himself reminded of the feeling he had when he was in the Chamber of Secrets and he had his eyes tightly shut as he felt the basilisk gaze upon his body and preparing to strike. Idly, he wondered if he would need Fawkes to also save him from Rita.

Rita tittered lightly when Harry slightly shuddered, her smile taking on a sense of victory.

"I'm sure the Minister will appreciate your support, Harry. Now, one final question, we all know you are traveling the world with Albus Dumbledore and will not be attending Hogwarts this year. What the people want to know is, do you think you will ever return to Britain's finest school?"

Harry paused as he collected his thoughts. "Hogwarts… Hogwarts was the first place I ever felt truly at home. I have so many good memories of my time there. I have learned so much within its walls. Will I ever return? Well, I don't know what the future holds for me, as I haven't started studying Divination. But… I certainly wouldn't count out the possibility of my returning someday."

Rita smiled at Harry, staring at him for a long second. With a small laugh, she pointed her wand at the quill and her notes. The quill dropped down and everything was quickly packed away in her purse.

With an amused glint in her eyes, she spoke in a much friendlier tone than she had during the interview. "I can see why Gilly finds you to be such a frustrating client."

Harry ignored Rita's pet name for Gilderoy and simply looked at the woman in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Last night, when he was asking me to go easy on you, he mentioned that you never seemed to be overly interested in taking his course on speaking to the press. His other clients wouldn't have stumbled as much as you did."

"I stumbled?"

Rita laughed airily. "You left at least a dozen openings for me to dig for dirt and start destroying your reputation. As a word of advice, if you're going to try to mimic Albus Dumbledore's style of sidestepping questions, then you should get him to specifically tutor you in that skill. Or you can become so powerful that people will be hesitant to go all out against you until you've died. Or just take Gilly's course, he's as good at manipulating the press as he is at manipulating my…"

"RIGHT!" Harry interrupted quickly. "Right. I'll talk with Gilderoy, as long as you don't finish that sentence."

Rita smiled smugly.

Harry frowned in confusion. "Gilderoy asked you to go easy on me? Does he do that with all of his clients?"

Rita laughed mirthfully. "Oh, no… no no no! If he did that, I wouldn't love that handsome man as much as I do. He and Horace won't accept a client if they can't handle an interview with me. They'll give tutoring, for a sizable fee of course, but they won't put in the work of improving someone's image if the client is just going to destroy their hard work every time a reporter comes calling."

"So, why go easy on me?"

Rita shrugged. "Partially because you know his deep dark secret, whatever that is, and I gather you are blackmailing him. Partially because he warned me that Dumbledore is no longer holding himself back when it comes to protecting you, and only a fool takes on a wizard with that much power who is willing to use it. Mainly though…" Rita's eyes lit up as her face took on an expression of pure joy. "… my Gilly Water promised to make it worth my while."

Harry winced slightly at the mental image he just had. "I see… well, I have another appointment, so…"

Harry stood as Rita's eyes remained unfocused as she was clearly enjoying her mental image. As he was about to exit the room, Rita spoke up. "Do you think you could tell me Gilly's deep dark secret? You see, we have a game where one of us tries to guess at the other's dark secret, and if the guess is wrong, the guesser must pay a forfeit. I just want to make sure I never guess correctly."

Harry shuddered. "Goodbye, Rita."

Rita sighed as Harry left the room. He, sadly, managed to overhear her speaking to herself as he walked away.

"Pity… I wonder if Gilly would like me to pay the forfeit on my editor's desk…"

Harry got to work locking that memory away under the heaviest chains, and then locking the key away under even heavier chains.

"Crystalia looked down at the Horn of Draconia, her expression inscrutable. With a rumbling sigh, that caused the innumerable crystals of the cavern to echo and tinkle a tune of regret, she looked up. Her eyes meeting the fierce and intelligent green eyes of her brood's savior"

"'I see I was wrong about you, Harry Potter. For that, I must apologize. I was a fool to believe in the lies told by the one named Morgan.'"

"Harry smiled at the regal dragon, the no longer angry leader of all the dragons of the Crystal Mountain. His eyes sparkled with mirth as his friend, Ruby, pranced and flew around the chamber in joy as she spouted the occasional gout of flame that formed rainbows of magical light when it shone through the crystals. Crystalia's youngest daughter had been a true friend on this adventure. 'Your majesty, the Dark Lady Morgan has many magical gifts, but her most dangerous gift is her ability to twist lies into seeming truer than the truth. I am just glad I was able to return your Horn, even if Morgan escaped yet again. I'll stop her… eventually!'"

"Draconia's lips turned up into the first smile Harry had ever seen her make. 'You have taught me the importance of looking below the surface, and my daughter has learned the value of friendship. The Dragons of the Crystal Mountain owe you a debt. How can we ever repay you?'"

"Harry smiled. 'Your friendship is the only payment I want or need. It has been wonderful meeting you and getting to know Ruby. But now I must take my leave and meet my teacher. Merlinus does not like to be kept waiting.'"

"With a final bow, Harry Potter left the mountain. As he left, he saw Merlinus sitting under a tree near the entrance, puffing on his ever-present pipe. Harry chuckled, as he was still unsure of how his teacher was able to appear whenever his current adventure ended."

"'Hello Harry, I see you have saved the day, yet again' spoke Merlinus in his calm and wizened voice."

"Harry smiled as he looked back fondly at the entrance to the mountain's caverns. 'And made some more friends' he spoke happily."

"Merlinus's beard twitched slightly, being the only indication that the mysterious wizard was smiling. 'Wonderful! Now, let us be off. I have heard rumors of someone else needing your assistance.'"

"The boy wizard groaned good naturedly. 'Here we go again!'"

"With that, Harry, Merlinus, and the tree disappeared from the base of the Crystal Mountain. Leaving behind a puff of smoke in the shape of a lightning bolt."

"The End"

Harry closed the book, entitled "The Adventures of The Boy Who Lived and The Dragons of The Crystal Mountain", and looked up to see the joyous faces of four young children as they erupted into applause and cheers.

After arriving at the Children's Ward of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Harry had greeted the four children receiving care. Luckily, magical healing meant most children did not require any sort of care longer than an hour. The Children's Ward was specifically set aside for those children needing care that required overnight care. In this case, there were four patients ranging in age from three to nine years old.

Albus had taken some pictures of Harry with the children and then left to get them developed. For the next three hours, Harry read the entire Boy Who Lived book to the children. They all stared at Harry with rapt attention and faces in various forms of unadulterated joy, shouting in shock, laughing, screaming, and generally responding to the events of the story with immense enthusiasm. The oldest child, Marcus, was often mouthing the words of the book along with Harry. All four children had shouted "Here we go again!" with Harry, as that was apparently a catch phrase for The Boy Who Lived.

Harry waited until the applause died down before speaking. "So, did you like the story?"

A chorus of nods and affirmative responses greeted Harry's question.

Harry beamed. Despite his dislike for his fame, it was hard to not to see this as one of the few bright aspects it brought to his life. "Well, I have one more thing to give you before your healers have to take you back to your rooms to get your potions and treatments. My teacher, Albus, has come back with our pictures. So, I'll sign the pictures with whatever you want me to write. So, first up, Cassiopeia why don't you come over here."

A three-year-old girl with curly blonde hair skipped over to Harry's chair and jumped up into his lap and gave him a hug with all her strength. Harry smiled broadly as he hugged her in return, careful not to touch the hand that was growing out of her left shoulder (a result of a miscast spell that would be cured by the morning).

"What would you like me to write?"

"Ummmm…"

Harry smiled as the little girl's face scrunched up in concentration. After a minute he spoke up. "How about 'To Cassiopeia, the brightest star I'll ever meet'?"

The girl giggled. "I'm not a star! I'm a girl!"

Harry nodded. "Of course, I don't know why I was being so silly. How about 'To Cassiopeia, the brightest GIRL I'll ever meet'?"

She smiled and nodded in response. Harry wrote the phrase and signed the two pictures (one of him with all four children and one of him with just Cassiopeia) and mouthed a thanks to Albus when he saw that the older wizard had made sure the photographs had been taken to ensure the extra hand was not visible.

The girl squealed in response when she got the signed pictures and kissed Harry on the cheek before being led out of the room by a healer as Harry told her to get better soon.

"Next up, Samuel come on over."

A four-year-old boy with straight black hair was walked slowly over to Harry (with the assistance of a healer). Harry didn't know what was wrong with him, but the boy was expected to be healed and walking normally by the following morning. With a questioning look to the healer, the healer smiled, nodded, and place the boy on Harry's lap. Samuel immediately cuddled into Harry's arms.

"What would you like me to write?"

Samuel grinned tiredly and whispered shyly into Harry's ear. "Can you say that I'm your best friend?"

Harry smiled in return, freed his right arm (while using his left arm to continue letting the boy cuddle into him) and began to sign the pictures. He spoke out loud as he wrote. "To Samuel, the best friend The Boy Who Lived could ask for."

After adding his signature, he handed the pictures to the boy. "There you go."

Samuel's eyes sparkled in amazement as he looked down at the signed pictures. "Thanks Harry… Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Did Albus replace Merlinus as your teacher?"

Harry looked up and caught Albus's eye before he smirked and whispered in Samuel's ear. "You know how Merlinus is, he doesn't show up until the end of my adventures. Albus is more like Ruby. Except, where Ruby didn't want to be called a baby, Albus wants to be called a teacher. So, I want to make him happy. But, don't tell him you know, he may start to puff smoke out of his nostrils."

Samuel looked over at Albus, who impressed Harry by actually managing to snort out a single puff of white smoke, causing the boy to begin laughing. As he was laughing, his healer lifted him off Harry's lap and walked him gently out of the room while Harry told him to get better soon.

"Let's see, Amelia, it's your turn."

A seven-year-old girl with wavy brown hair walked over to Harry. She had apparently already been healed and was ready to leave as Harry arrived, but he had invited her stay for the book reading. She stood nervously in front of Harry, clasping her hands together as she shifted her weight from foot to foot.

Her voice was even more nervous as she spoke. "Thank you for coming today, Mister Potter. I am grateful for your generous donation of your time."

Harry smiled kindly as he responded with a gentle tone of voice. "Amelia, you can call me Harry if you want. We're all friends here."

Amelia blinked as she worried her lower lip. After a few seconds she blurted out. "I know you're not the same as the boy in the books! I know you don't really fight giant monsters or cast wandless spells or anything like that."

Harry stared at the girl. There was something in the tone of her voice that practically screamed that she didn't want to believe what she was saying. Part of him wanted to thank her for understanding the difference between the books and reality, but another part of him felt like he was seeing a seven-year-old girl's heart breaking and he wanted to comfort her. In the end, it didn't take more than a second for him to know which part of him was going to win. He leaned forward and extended his hand, palm-up, in front of him. He waited for her to look down and then focused. A pool of fire formed atop his palm which coalesced into a globe of fire. The flame's magic was mixed with the magic for the flame freezing charm, creating a ball of flame that felt cool to the touch and would not spread. He had fond memories of Sirius's face when he had first shown his Frozen Flame Ball to the man, mainly by throwing the ball right at the man's face (he had thoroughly tested it with Remus first to ensure it was harmless). Whereas Sirius's face was an expression of humorous panic, Amelia's face held an expression full of wonder.

"I don't cast wandless spells, really? Are you so sure?"

Amelia's eyes widened as Harry handed her the ball of frozen flame. She rolled the ball in her hands, her mouth opening and shutting in silent shock. As she rolled the ball from one hand to the other, Harry signed her pictures.

"OK, Amelia, it looks like your mother is ready to take you home. She probably doesn't want you to bring that home, so…"

He waved his hand while releasing the magic for the ball. He didn't need to wave his hand, but he felt it gave a better show for Amelia as the ball disappeared. He handed her the signed the pictures, which read "To Amelia, never stop believing in the impossible".

"Thanks Harry" she spoke as her mum walked her out.

"Be good for your mum, Amelia."

"Thanks Harry"

He chuckled as her mother had to stop her from walking into the door frame, her attention being solely focused on the signed pictures in her hands.

Harry then looked to the final boy, Marcus Smythe. It was his room that they were in, extra chairs having been brought for Harry's visit. Harry stood and walked over to Marcus's bed, sitting down next to the blonde-haired boy. Marcus had been in the room for the past month, with no guess from the healers on when or if he might be cured, and he was the reason Harry had come to visit.

Harry had received several letters from Marcus over the past month, along with one letter from his mother. Marcus was a humongous fan of the Boy Who Lived books, and happily told every person he met that he was Harry's Number One Fan. After receiving Harry's first letter, his mother wrote to Harry to thank him profusely and said that Harry's letter had meant the world to the sick boy. Once he knew he was coming back to England, Harry had Gilderoy arrange the reading with the hospital and Mrs. Smythe.

Harry looked at the exultant expression Marcus had, as the boy leaned against the pillows he was propped up against. He glanced over at the healer, holding a potion vial, and nodded when she mouthed the words "one minute".

"Hey, Marcus."

"Hey, Harry! That was awesome! You're the best! Mum didn't think you would come to visit when I wrote you, but I knew you would. Because you're the best!"

Harry's eyes misted as he smiled. "Thanks Marcus, but of course I had to come. You're my Number One Fan, right?"

"YEAH!"

"So, you need to take your potion soon, but I wanted to give you something. Your mum told me you love to read and already have all the Boy Who Lived books, and you have read the entire series a dozen times, so I couldn't get those for you. I know you have to avoid casting any accidental magic, but I thought you might like to learn some magic that you don't cast. So, we gave your mum the Potions books for all seven years at Hogwarts."

Marcus looked over at his mother, she smiled and nodded.

"Wow! Thanks Harry, I'll read them all!"

Harry grinned. "Good. Maybe I can write to you and get some advice on the homework I get from my tutors. Also, since your mum told me that Ruby is your favorite companion, we got you this."

He handed a lightly wrapped package to the boy, who quickly tore off the wrappings. He then gasped when he saw a plush Ruby the Dragon doll about the same size as Marcus's torso.

"Whoa! Thanks, Harry!"

"Well, Albus here is pretty good at enchanting, so he added a couple of features. Tickle her belly."

Marcus did so and cheered as the doll puffed smoke out of her nostrils.

"Now, pinch her tail."

"WHOA!" exclaimed Marcus as the doll flapped her wings, flew up into the air, circled twice, and then landed where it had been resting.

"Finally, put your finger on the underside of her jaw and run it down her throat."

When the dragon yawned, curled into itself, and began to snore lightly, Marcus wrapped his arm the doll and cuddled it for all he was worth.

"Just run your finger up her throat when you're ready to wake her up. Now, it's time for your potion."

"OK, Harry." Marcus drank his potion without complaint, though he did grimace at that taste. "Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?"

"Sure, mate, you got it! So, who is your second favorite companion?"

Marcus curled his fingers around Harry's hand when he placed it next to the snoring Ruby doll.

"That's easy. Flames, the baby phoenix."

"Why?"

The boy yawned before he began giving Harry a deep analysis of why Flames was so great (but not as great as Ruby, of course). After four minutes he trailed off as the potion finished putting him to sleep. Harry waited another minute before extracting his hand from the boy's loose grip, making sure that Ruby remained firmly cuddled under Marcus's arm. After standing, Mrs. Smythe sat in the chair and began to gently run her fingers through her son's hair. She kept her eyes fixed on her son as she spoke quietly.

"Thank you for this Mister Potter. I haven't seen Marcus looking so good since this all started. He didn't even make a fuss about taking his potion. Thank you."

Harry felt his heart ache as he was reminded of why Marcus was in this room in the first place.

"Please, call me Harry. If you don't mind my asking, have things gotten any better?"

Mrs. Smythe shook her head slightly, never moving her attention away from Marcus. "No, it's gotten worse. Every time he casts some accidental magic, he starts to scream in horrible pain. The pain seems to get a bit worse every time. He needs to be here so the healers can respond immediately, but being here makes him frustrated, which makes him cast more magic. The healers have no idea why this is happening. They keep saying this should be impossible. Nothing they try makes a damn bit of positive difference!"

Mrs. Smythe paused and took a deep breath. Her voice had been growing louder but was now back to a calm and quiet level. "Today was the first time we have managed to avoid a single magical incident, and I think I have you to thank for that Mister… Harry. Thank you!"

Harry wiped a tear from his cheek. "Well, tell Marcus that he can write to me whenever he wants. I'll make sure to write back as soon as I can. Actually… Albus will give you his address. I'll get your letters quicker if you send them to him."

Harry could see tears forming her eyes as she responded. "Thank you, Harry. You're a good young man."

"Do you want us to stay?"

She shook her head again, her eyes never leaving her son, nor did her hand stop stroking his hair. "That is kind of you, but my husband will be arriving from his work at the Ministry soon. Luckily, our other child, Terrence, is in his sixth year at Hogwarts, so we are both able to spend the night in the other bed in the room here. Thank you again Harry… Headmaster Dumbledore."

Albus, who had stood silently in the corner of the room nodded solemnly. "Of course, Cynthia. I have left my contact information on the table next to the door. Give George my regards when he arrives. Come along Harry."

Harry gave Marcus one last look and then walked out of the room with Albus, looking back over his shoulder as Mrs. Smythe cared for her son, not even acknowledging their departure.

Harry, before leaving, made sure to leave Marcus's signed photographs on the table next to the door. They were signed "To Marcus, you are my hero!"

Harry picked at his early dinner, mechanically taking the occasional bite without thought. Albus, Sirius, and a haggard Remus (last night having been a full moon) sat silently at the table. Sirius and Remus had asked earlier what was wrong, but Harry had dismissed their questions with a hasty "nothing" and they had remained quiet for the past half hour.

"Did you see anything?"

Harry broke the silence, startling and confusing two of the men. Albus had apparently been expecting the question, as he responded easily.

"His magic was clearly doing something, but I couldn't see any signs of foreign magic causing his pain. His magic didn't appear to be flowing chaotically, or anything else that would tell me something was amiss. I did talk with the healers, Harry. They were already aware of everything that I had seen. Sadly, while I am more than passable in an emergency, I am not a trained healer."

Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I just thought… with all you can do… a part of me thought we would just walk in, look at his magic and immediately provide the cure. Well, maybe not me, but definitely that you would."

"Harry" Sirius spoke, putting his hand on top of his godson's hand. "Albus told me and Remus how much you made all those kids happy, especially Marcus. Going out of your way to bring a ray of joy into someone's life, that was pure Lily. Of course, feeling like you didn't do enough is also pure Lily. Your mother helped your father to grow more thoughtful of how he could help those around him. She definitely tempered his… our crueler pranks. Likewise, your father helped your mother learn how to accept the small victories she could claim. You did good today, accept the victory."

"Both of your parents would be so proud of you" rumbled Remus through a hoarse voice. "We're all proud of you."

Harry nodded slowly. "Well, he really was happy, wasn't he?"

Albus smiled. "I doubt he could have been any happier. And, I'm sure he'll be excited by the idea of you writing back quickly."

Harry felt his morose mood dissipating. "Then I'll make sure to write him twice a week. And, Albus, you'll contact people to see if anyone has any ideas?"

"Of course."

With that, Harry felt his appetite return to him and began to dig into his dinner with gusto. "Did you see Gilderoy's face when I told him again that I didn't want him getting my hospital visit into the newspaper? I can really see why Rita says I'm such a 'frustrating client'".

With that, the atmosphere at the table turned jolly.

An hour later Albus apparated Harry to their destination. He wasn't sure where they were going, but Albus assured him that he would appreciate coming. They walked out of the alleyway, followed by Sirius and Remus. He looked around and saw it appeared to be a small rural muggle village, surrounded by open countryside.

"Where are we?"

Harry looked up at the adults, seeing sad expressions on their faces. It was Albus who responded with "Godric's Hollow".

As they began to walk down the road, towards an obelisk in the town square, Harry frowned in confusion. "Why does that sound familiar?"

As they neared the obelisk, it transformed into a statue. A statue of two familiar people holding a baby.

"Are those… my parents?"

Albus put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "I felt it was well past time that you had the chance to come here. This village was your home for a time, it's where…"

Albus trailed off, but Harry understood. He touched the feet of each of his parents and then let himself be led down the road towards a decrepit house. HIS home. The home where he last lived with his parents. The home where he had last been held by his parents. The home where his parents made the ultimate sacrifice to give him a chance at life. His eyes teared up as he read the graffiti covering the plaque posted in the front, all supporting him and his parents.

After some time (Harry had lost track) he was led past a church into a graveyard, towards a specific plot.

Albus broke the silence in a soft and gentle voice. "Dobby and I have laid down wards to give you your privacy. Remus and Sirius visited earlier and will be keeping guard to ensure you remain undisturbed."

Remus and Sirius held their wands as they split off to take up opposite positions ten feet from Harry, making sure no one broke through the wards. Albus walked Harry to the foot of the grave.

"Hello James. Hello Lily. I'd like to introduce you again to your son. I know it has been much too long a wait for his first visit. I hope you can forgive me for my many mistakes in his care. I want you to know that I am doing my best to make up for… everything. James, I have been working to make sure that Harry has begun to learn what it means to have the heart of a prankster. I know you would have taught him that if you had only been given the chance. Don't worry, Sirius is here to make sure he gets some proper Marauder training. And Lily, don't worry, Remus is here to make sure it is the seventh-year kinder mindset of the Marauders. Oh, Lily, you would be so proud of Harry. He has taken to exploring the mysteries of magic with such a fervor, I sometimes feel like I am listening to you as you passionately theorize on some obscure branch of magic. He seemed to be particularly fond of the metaphor you once told me of paths in a dense jungle… which I just realized I forgot to mention you were the one to tell me that particular metaphor. Alas, while I am a man of many flaws, when it comes to Harry, a finer young man you could not find. Why he…"

Albus sighed deeply. "But this evening is not for me. Harry, I'll go and take up a guard position. We'll give you your privacy, but you need only call for us if you want company. Take as long as you want."

Harry stood silently at the foot of the graves of his parents, as Albus walked away and drew his wand. He had been touched by Albus's words, but that was only at an intellectual level for the moment. At the current point in time, his focus was solely on the grass and shared headstone in front of him. He tried to open his mouth countless times, but the words would not come. At some point, he didn't know when, he found himself on his knees, unable to see through his tears. Suddenly, he felt a spindly pair of arms reach around his chest and gently squeeze.

"Dobby being here for Harry Potter sir. Harry Potter sir's family is being here for Harry Potter sir."

Harry felt a sense of comfort fill his heart.

"Thanks Dobby. Please stay with me."

He then looked at the graves again. And there, kneeling on the ground, being hugged by the world's most unusual House Elf, Harry finally found his voice.

"Hi mum. Hi dad."

16. Chapter 16

"So… this is your home… it's… nice?"

Harry had not remembered falling asleep the previous night, nor did he remember being taken to his bed at Albus's apartment. All he knew was that when he woke up, he felt mentally refreshed and ready to take on the world.

At the moment, "the world" currently consisted of whispering in Sirius's kitchen at 12 Grimmauld Place, sitting at a filthy table along with Sirius, Remus, and Albus (Dobby had taken one look, refused to enter unless he was given leave to start cleaning, and then left for an unknown location). The house was, as a generous person might observe, in a state of poor repair. A less generous person would call it a dark depressing dump of a house. It appeared to have not been dusted, cleaned, nor maintained in well over a decade.

Sirius chuckled silently, trying not to wake the portrait of his mother (Walburga Black). It had been quite jarring to Harry to be the surprise recipient of a long series of invectives as spoken by a highly angry portrait. In comparison, the muttered insults from the House Elf, Kreacher, were downright pleasant.

"I've been here for around a week, Harry, so I haven't had much time to clean up before you arrived. And, while I appreciate the polite lie, it's not necessary. I hate this place and will be happy for the next leg of our journey to start."

"Sure, but it can't take that long to use a simple cleaning charm to take care of the dust. Did you honestly not find a free hour to do that?"

All three men chuckled at that, confusing Harry.

"What?"

Albus's eyes twinkled. "We'll let you know in a moment. Go ahead and try to clean the corner of the kitchen over there."

Harry looked to where Albus was pointing and directed his wand towards the corner. Silently he cast the scouring charm that Remus had taught him. He had easily cleaned his room with it when he was in Egypt (as the sand got everywhere), so fully expected to see the spell spread and clean the entire room. The spell splashed against the corner and the dust and filth disappeared as expected, but only from the tiny spot where the spell hit. The surrounding grime remained unaffected.

Harry frowned, focused on a new spot and poured more power into the spell. The grime disappeared even quicker than before, but the radius of cleanliness remained unchanged. After staring at the two miniscule spots of cleanliness for a moment, he looked back at the three men.

"That should have worked. With the amount of energy that I poured into that… I would have cleaned our hut in Egypt in seconds. What happened?"

Remus responded in his kind teacher tone of voice. "If you truly read the full text of the book where you learned the basic cleaning spells, you should already know the answer."

Harry sighed. Remus was a fine teacher, compared to most of the staff of Hogwarts he would rate as terrific. But, learning from the books was just so dull when compared to what he learned in Albus's lessons. When given the chance between reading three paragraphs on the scouring charm, or figuring out how to shoot snow flurries from his palms, well…

Closing his eyes, he entered his mind and focused on the memory of reading the textbook. He relived opening the book, reading the text and clearly seeing the words describing the instructions for casting. The other words, those not directly relevant to casting, became blurry. That was the section of the text that he had skimmed, and those random words he had alighted one while skimming were clear. Harry groaned as he realized he really needed to start fully reading the texts that Remus assigned if he was going to full take advantage of his Occlumency skills.

Opening his eyes, he looked back at Remus's expectant expression and furrowed his brow. "All I can remember is how to cast the spell, and the phrase 'magic rich' written a few times."

Albus smiled indulgently. "Ah, you have finally discovered one of the drawbacks to magically sorting your mind in preparation to properly occlude your thoughts. I still remember the annoyance I felt when I discovered Occlumency didn't replace my need to read in detail. I'm afraid there is no true shortcut to learning the… less than exciting bits. In the future, if you have difficulty slowing down to read the boring parts, then you may want to try reading your books upside down."

Harry stared at Albus in surprise. "Is THAT why you read the newspaper upside down?"

Albus shrugged. "You may not believe it, but I am not overly fascinated by the gossip that dominates the news. Of course, with Xeno's magazine he sometimes hides upside down rune puzzles which certainly makes for a pleasant surprise."

"Xeno?"

"Xenophilius Lovegood. He is the editor of The Quibbler. It's a wonderful magazine which is one of the best sources of speculative and factual information on the most elusive magical creatures on the planet. The last edition had a fascinating article that had some insights on the mating habits of the Blibbering Humdinger. You can feel free to read my copies when I am done."

"What's a Blibbering Humdinger?"

Remus snorted (silently to avoid awaking the sleeping portrait). "Albus is having you on, Harry. They are a made-up creature. The only people who claim to have seen one are hardly what one would call sane."

Albus frowned at Remus. "With an attitude like that, I'm not surprised you haven't seen one."

Remus looked at Albus with confusion. "You're not honestly saying YOU have seen one, are you?"

"Certainly."

"Then why has The Quibbler never shown a single picture of them?"

Albus sighed, as he reached into the pocket where he kept his traveling trunk. He clearly had cast a summoning charm, as he pulled out a magazine and a photograph. He opened the magazine to a specific page near the end and handed it to Harry. He then handed the photograph to Remus.

"Harry, do you believe that Blibbering Humdingers exist?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know what they are, but I am willing to believe in them if you say they exist."

"Then read this article and know that it is completely factual. Then, look at the picture on the next page. Remus, just look at the picture I handed to you and keep quiet."

Remus rolled his eyes but kept quiet. Once Harry finished reading the article and flipped the page, his eyebrows rose and then he looked at Albus expectantly.

Albus acknowledged Harry was ready by speaking again. "Now, swap if you would be so kind. Remus, you shall now read the article and look at the picture on the next page. Harry look at the picture Remus hands you and we'll wait for him to finish."

Harry watched in confusion as Remus shook his head in disbelief as he read the article. When the man finished by flipping the page and groaned, Albus once again spoke.

"Harry, what do you see in the photograph you're holding?"

Harry looked down and smiled. "It's Hagrid standing in front of the Forbidden Forest. A bit hard to miss him."

Albus chuckled. "That it is. Remus, what else is in the photograph with Hagrid?"

Remus glanced again at the photograph. "Are you talking about the pair of Thestrals?"

Harry looked at Hagrid in confusion. "What Thestrals? Are they hiding in the forest? What are Thestrals?"

Remus's eyes narrowed in suspicion as Albus answered. "They are a type of winged horse, looking as if they might be mixed with some sort of lizard. They are standing on either side of Hagrid."

Harry looked back down at the picture, and still saw only Hagrid. "But."

Remus replied to Harry's implied question. "They are only visible to those who have seen death."

"But I've seen death! I mean… mum…"

Albus gently squeezed Harry's shoulder. "You were too young. For your magic to become attuned enough to see Thestrals, you must already truly comprehend death at the very moment you witness such a tragedy. As for what it means to 'see death', that varies from person to person. I'm grateful you can only see Hagrid."

Harry smiled faintly.

"Now, Harry, what did you see in the magazine's picture?"

Harry look back at the magazine. "A bright blue bird sitting in a tree, with four wings and with what looked like pursed human lips."

Remus frowned as he looked back down at the picture. "All I see is a tree. I assume this is another one of your bits that you and Harry have prearranged to prank me, but I'll play along for now. What are the criteria I don't meet for seeing the non-existent bird?"

Albus smiled. "Belief. The Quibbler primarily focuses on a collection of creatures that can only be seen by those who truly believe they exist. It is thought to be a part of their self-defense. They also put out some sort of magical field that makes people want to disbelieve in their existence."

Harry's eyes widened. "It's like how muggles can't see Hogwarts in photographs, or how they ignore talk of magic and King's Cross Station! People looking at the photographs are impacted by the field, aren't they?"

Remus looked back and forth between Albus and Harry, and then huffed in annoyance. "You almost had me there. But you'll have to come up with more believable lies in the future if you really want to fool me."

Harry frowned, as he looked back down at the weird blue bird. Albus leaned over to whisper in Harry's ear.

"Don't worry about Remus. The magical field works on everyone but is especially strong for people who have highly logical minds. And the more they disbelieve, the stronger the effect becomes."

Harry whispered back to Albus. "How did YOU end up believing in them then?"

"Their camouflage can be bypassed by directly seeing their magic. Though one has to be there in person. For some unknown reason, you can't bypass the effect that sticks to photographs. If you are interested in seeing on, I'll keep an eye on my mail for people asking for help with mysterious creature attacks. It will give you an excellent chance to practice your abilities to see magic in uncontrolled situations. Actually…"

Albus looked around the room they were in with an appraising eye. When he spoke again, it was no longer in a whisper.

"Harry, how would you like to test out your ability to see magic?"

Harry's eyes lit up in interest. "Really? That would be… what's the catch this time?"

Albus chuckled. "This house may be too much for you. You have some experience observing areas that are rich in magic. However, the density of different spells here can be overwhelming if you are not prepared. It's one of the reasons why I rarely used the ability at Hogwarts, as the castle is soaked in enchantments and spell work. Additionally, I would be shocked if this house has more than its fair share of magical artifacts fueled by a magic that is… let's say… less than beneficent."

Sirius barked out a loud laugh, triggering a loud caterwauling from the stairwell. He winced at the sound of Walburga's screams. Still, his smile remained. "Yes, that is what the Black family is known for, being 'less than beneficent'. Just like Snape is known for being… less than cuddly."

Harry and Remus chuckled, doing there best to ignore the screeches of the portrait. As he finished chuckling, Harry looked over at Albus.

"I'm sure I'll be fine. In fact, how about we have a contest? I'll go up a floor while you search this floor, and any lower floors that may exist. Whoever finds the least 'beneficent' artifact wins."

Albus's right eyebrow rose slightly. "That sounds like a reasonable challenge. Though I would prefer if you took someone with you, to make sure you don't touch any of the artifacts. As some of them may have especially unpleasant effects laid upon them."

"I'll take Sirius. You can take Remus."

"Very well, what are the stakes?"

Harry's brow furrowed in thought. After a few seconds he smiled and responded. "If I win, I get to do something embarrassing to Remus, and if you win you get to embarrass Sirius."

Albus smiled and shook Harry's hand as the two Marauders spoke out their duly ignored objections.

Harry prepared to leave the kitchen but stopped at the door. With a thought, he activated his ability to view magic and stumbled back a step. The magic of the house pulsed with thousands of different vibrating colors, many of them coated in hues that seemed to glow with unnatural light. The swirl of color blinded him to the physical world. Recalling his first lesson at Malfoy Manor, he forced himself to focus on only the magic of the kitchen door which made all of the other colors fade away from his perceptions and allowed him to once again see the world around him. Looking over at Albus, he grinned at the proud look in the man's eyes.

"We'll compare results in half an hour. Come on Sirius!"

A touch more than thirty minutes later, Albus and Remus found Sirius and Harry standing in front of the portrait of Sirius's mother. Oddly, Walburga was not screaming, and Harry was having a pleasant conversation with both her and Kreacher. Sirius stood to the side, with his face representing the perfect picture of speechless shock.

As the two men approached, Walburga adjusted her attention from Harry to Remus. Her previously genuine smile transformed into a distinctly predatory one. When she spoke, it was with a tone of forced pleasantness.

"Hello, Mister Lupin. I do apologize for my earlier behavior. Mister Potter here was just helping me… understand my son's… choices in life, and it appears that I was… mistaken about him. Had I known before… well… please let Kreacher know if there is anything the Black family can do for you. You are a friend of the House of Black after all. And no sacrifice is too great for one's friends. Don't you agree?"

As Walburga's portrait looked over at Sirius and slyly winked, Remus paused in confusion. He looked at Sirius's shellshocked face and Harry's innocent smile. Then he looked at Kreacher's viciously anticipatory smile, and back up to Walburga.

"Thank you, Mrs. Black. I accept your apology. As for your question, I suppose I would have to agree?"

As Walburga's expression turned victorious, Harry cleared his throat.

"Thank you for the lovely conversation Mrs. Black. The history of your lovely home was fascinating. I hope we can talk again soon. And Kreacher, keep up the excellent work you are doing for Mrs. Black."

As Harry waved his hand toward the portrait, Kreacher smiled with genuine pride.

"And thank you Mister Potter. This conversation has been most… enlightening."

With a smile, Harry indicated for the men to follow him upstairs. As they followed, Albus spoke to Walburga.

"Walburga, it has been a pleasure as always."

Walburga's expression turned icy as her smile transformed into a sneer. When she spoke, it was in a tone of utter loathing and disgust.

"Dumbledore"

With that, the curtains around her portrait snapped shut.

Harry waited at the top of the stairs for Albus to join them. Looking over at Albus, he spoke with a tone of curiosity.

"So, what did you find?"

Albus shrugged. "In a corner of the basement, I found a pocket watch. Of course, I didn't have the time to fully determine every curse upon it, as it was heavily enchanted. One of the curses looked as if it was designed to cause a person's eyes to boil, presumably when trying to read the time. Another curse was on the chain, which I believe would cause it to lengthen and try to strangle the holder. Yet another curse seemed to cause a simple incontinence effect when winding the watch, which seemed rather petty when compared to the nastier effects. My best guess is that there are at least five more curses applied that have much nastier effects, and perhaps another five with lesser effects."

Harry sighed in defeat. "That sounds much worse than what I found. Not that I know what it does since I didn't try to touch it, but its magic was just waves of an angry looking blackness rolling around it, with tiny tendrils sticking off and roaming across the surface."

Albus faltered mid-step, shot a piercing look at Harry, and then continued walking as if all was normal. Harry looked at his mentor with a mild confusion. It took less than a minute before they stopped at an ancient cabinet with glass doors. Harry pointed to a locket sitting on the top shelf.

"That's it. So, what does it do?"

Albus bent down to peer at the locket. "Well, at a surface look, it appears to be a fairly well-kept family heirloom. Though, it seems to not be of a typical design of the Black family. Now, I supposed I should see what is going on with its magic."

Harry watched as Albus's face paled slightly. The man stayed bent over the locket for nearly five minutes, muttering silently under his breath. When he finally stood, he rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly.

"Well, I suppose I should first congratulate you Harry. You have undoubtedly found the darkest artifact in this house."

Normally Harry would have smiled at this news, but Albus's grave looks made him distinctly nervous. He noted that Sirius and Remus were equally confused by the change in Albus's tone.

"What's wrong? What is it?"

Albus sighed. "I never thought he would be foolish enough to intentionally make more than one. But, alas, he always had a habit of surprising me. That, Harry, is a horcrux."

One hour later, the four of them sat silently at the kitchen table. The locket sat innocuously upon the center of the table.

While not in a full state of shock, Harry knew he was on the way to getting there.

Albus had mentioned that his scar was a horcrux, way back on that night when he was expelled. He had asked what that was the first night, but then passed out before getting an answer. After that, it just never occurred to him to ask about the thing. Part of him still wished he didn't know what it was.

A piece of the soul of Tom Riddle sat in the locket.

A piece of the soul of Tom Riddle was in the diary that possessed Ginny.

A piece of the soul of that murderous bastard had been IN HARRY'S SCAR!?

And there he went, taking another step closer to shock. He took a deep breath, checking once again that he had control of his magic. Luckily, Albus's arduous training regimen included helping Harry keep himself from losing control of his magic while under stress, and it was working.

Once again, he asked the same question he had already asked several times. "You are certain that this is a horcrux? Absolutely, utterly, without a doubt, certain?"

He appreciated that Albus answered him patiently, as if he was explaining things for the first time instead of the seventh.

"I told you months ago that I had examined your scar when you first received it, and that it was rolling in unknown dark magic. Over the years, I had compiled a sizable list of possible candidates for how Tom had survived in some manner. When you told me of your encounter with the version of Tom from the diary, that narrowed my list of possible survival techniques down to just a horcrux. Further, when you described encountering an 'ugly baby thing' after being struck by the killing curse, I made an educated guess that Tom had somehow made you, or perhaps just your scar, into a horcrux. Luckily, much like with the diary, your scar no longer contains a hint of any magic. However, the magic permeating this locket is nearly identical to the darkness that was contained in your scar. I presume the differences have to do with the defensive curses placed upon it. So, to answer your question, I am as certain as I can possibly be."

Harry nodded, rubbing his scar. "Right… and we know it belongs to Tom, because of Kreacher."

That had been quite the shock to Sirius, when the old House Elf tearily told the story of how Sirius's brother, Regulus, had died betraying the Dark Lord. How Kreacher had been trying and failing for years to follow the last order from his favorite master to destroy the locket. The poor creature had been practically giddy when Sirius promised to ensure that Regulus's last order was fulfilled. After that moment, Harry had noticed that Albus and Remus had silently agreed to split comforting duty (for which he was grateful). Albus had taken Harry, while Remus took care of Sirius as the man came to terms with having his understanding of his brother turned upside down.

Harry took another deep breath and felt his efforts to calm down had finally started to take effect. He would likely feel better after a few intensive training sessions with Albus, even if just to have the opportunity to make a few (dozen) things explode.

"Alright. So, what do we do now? How do we destroy it?"

Albus sighed. "I will tell you how to destroy it, Harry. But, first, I recommend that we delay destroying the locket."

Harry, having gained enough trust in the older man, waited patiently for an explanation. Sirius, it seemed, was not willing to wait. His head snapped up, the signs of a small but quickly growing fury etched into his expression.

"WHAT!? Regulus… my brother died to destroy that… abomination. He died with me thinking he was a devoted follower of Voldemort when he was doing far more to stop him than most members of the Order. And you want us to 'DELAY'!? What… do you want to study its magic for fun? WHAT INSANE REASON COULD YOU HAVE FOR DELAYING!?"

As Sirius stared at Albus with pain and anger filling his eyes, Remus placed his hand on his friend's shoulder. Albus met Sirius's eyes, his tone full of sympathy.

"There are more horcruxes out there, and I believe the locket will help us find them."

Sirius's anger drained away instantly, while all eyes in the room shot towards Albus. Albus turned his attention to Harry.

"Harry, if it's not too painful, can you count the number of tendrils of the black magic coming off the locket?"

Harry rubbed his eyes as he shook his head. "I kept my ability going up until the last second. I'm done for the day."

Albus nodded. "I understand, and I congratulate you for your self-awareness. As for the tendrils, there are four roaming across the surface of the locket."

Harry's frowned in response. "And?"

"Your scar had six tendrils."

While Harry tried to figure out the significance of that information, Remus seemed to understand immediately.

"You believe Voldemort created seven horcruxes and that these tendrils point toward the other fragments of his soul?"

Harry felt like a lead weight had been dropped into his stomach, as Albus responded.

"Possibly. Or he created six and one of the tendrils is connected to Tom himself. If I am correct, this means that he has four or five left after the destruction of the diary and the piece in Harry's scar."

Albus turned to Sirius, eyes full of pity. "Sirius, I truly understand your desire to destroy the locket right away. However, I hope that if we get close enough to another horcrux then we will see one of the tendrils stop roaming randomly across the surface of the locket and start trying to connect with a tendril of its brother horcrux. This may be a way to finally be done with the threat of Tom ever returning, to ensure he can never harm Harry again."

Sirius closed his eyes and sighed. He responded without opening his eyes.

"How close would you have to be? Are you sure that it would even work?"

Albus looked down at the locket.

"The few references I discovered were vague about the details of a horcrux, as none of the creators would want to have their attempts at immortality to be fully understood. I wouldn't be surprised if Tom's version of a horcrux doesn't fully match up with those of prior witches and wizards. That said, none of the texts suggested the idea of creating more than one horcrux was viable. So, no, I am not certain. I am making educated guesses. As for distance, I suspect that it would depend on what sort of magic is between the two devices. It might be as small as a meter, or as great as a kilometer. If the magical barrier is strong enough, it may not even work. But I do believe that there is a chance that it will help with locating the remaining soul fragments."

Sirius didn't respond, nor did he open his eyes. After a minute of silence, Albus sighed sadly.

"Harry, please unsheathe your sword and carefully place it on the table."

Harry unsheathed the Sword of Gryffindor from the invisible and unnoticeable sheathe strapped to his back. He gently placed it on the table next to the locket. The locket seemed to tremble slightly.

"One of the few things that can destroy a horcrux is basilisk venom. As it was soaked in the venom, a stab from your sword is the equivalent of a basilisk bite. You can stab the locket right now and it will be destroyed."

Both Sirius and Harry eyed the sword.

"In another time I may have been of a mind to make the decision for you. Now though… now I am your teacher, Harry. I am your supporter. I no longer have the will in me to make these decisions for you. You have proven yourself to me over these past months, and I will follow your lead in this. In all honesty, I will still have to search for clues to direct us where to look for leads. If the tendrils work the way I hope, it will make the search much easier. Without the locket, there is a distinct chance we will never find all of Tom's soul shards. Still… I leave it to you."

Both godson and godfather stared at the sword and the barely trembling locket.

Silence fell for several minutes before Harry looked over at Albus's understandingly sad smile and back at Sirius's closed eyes and pained expressions. Quietly, he spoke.

"Sirius… Sirius, please look at me."

Sirius opened his eyes slowly, they glistened in the lamp light.

"Sirius, my mum and dad sacrificed themselves to stop Tom from killing me. Your brother sacrificed himself to stop Tom. You could destroy the locket right now, none of us will stop you. You can destroy a portion of that madman's soul right now and partially avenge my parents and your brother. Or we could wait, and possibly fully avenge them by destroying him completely and maybe ensure no one else has a family member sacrifice their life to stop Tom. I am willing to wait, but I'll understand if you aren't willing to wait. I leave the choice to you and will support whatever you decide."

Sirius shook his head ruefully.

"Fine. We'll wait."

Sirius laughed ruefully. "Reg wouldn't have been happy if I went 'full Gryffindor' anyways. But, Albus, I expect you to do your best to find those clues as quickly as possible. When a lead comes up, we drop everything."

"Of course."

Sirius nodded. "Good. So, now what?"

Harry's stomach rumbled in response to the question.

It was a sedate group of four eating at a muggle Italian restaurant. The silence was oppressive.

"Okay, I have to ask" spoke Remus, breaking the silence.

The three others looked over at the man.

"How did you get Sirius's mother to be polite?"

Harry smiled slightly, as Sirius rolled his eyes. Albus looked at Harry, eyes full of interest.

"Well…"

Harry stared at the portrait of Walburga Black in fascination, having become accustomed to her bellowed insults. Walburga was great at screeching, but she still had nothing on an epic Dudley rant, so he blocked out her and Sirius sharing screamed insults. He had already found the locket he suspected was the darkest item in the house and came back to the portrait with the remaining two minutes or so he had before the pain in his eyes became too much. He was going to examine this piece of art while he could.

He had seen the magic of magical portraits before, so that wasn't what intrigued him. It was the wards. The portrait was covered in the distinctive cobwebs of House Elf wards. Except the cobwebs looked as if they had been piled on top of each other so thickly and overlapped so thoroughly that not a single iota of the portrait was unprotected. Aragog's brood could only wish to one day have webs this thick. Sadly, the pain started to become overwhelming, so he stopped looking at the magic.

"Kreacher, can I ask you something?"

The surly ancient House Elf grumbled under his breath. "Bad Master's Half Blood godson walks to ask Kreacher a question. Nasty brat thinks he is worthy of being in Mistress's presence. If she could she only…"

Before Sirius could yell at the House Elf, Harry decided to take Kreacher's tirade as his way of saying that he was listening.

"These wards on Mrs. Black's portrait are amazing. I didn't know one could put on so many layers while avoiding them conflicting with each other. You must have really loved your mistress to put so much effort into protecting her portrait. Out of curiosity, how many wards are there here?"

Kreacher paused in the middle of the tirade he had started, where he was using some rather inventive insults. As he paused, his wide eyes stared at Harry as if he hadn't truly yet looked at the boy. Though, Harry figured, it was likely he had probably never thought Harry had yet to prove himself worthy of being looked at.

"Why be Bad Master's nasty godson wanting to be knowing?"

Harry smiled as he looked at Walburga, who had also silenced herself and was staring down with a curious look in her eyes.

"Because I have seen House Elf wards before and have yet to see anything so… impressive. I don't know what these do, but I wouldn't be shocked to discover that there isn't a protection it doesn't have. I bet you could burn down the entire house, and your mistress's portrait would still be hanging there in the middle of the air. So, I just wanted to know how many wards are layered. Is it more than 200?"

Harry had spent enough time with Dobby and Jean (when he was in France) to have a good sense of how to stroke the ego of a House Elf. The key, he discovered, was to compliment their ability to care for those they considered family. Jean had appreciated Harry thanking him for food but became filled with immense joy and pride when he complimented how nicely the house was kept for Pierre. As he saw the look of pride form on the mean-spirited elf's face, he knew that he had gained a moment of peace. Which made him wonder if a similar technique could be used on the portrait.

Kreacher finally answered with pride and a (for him) friendly tone. "The Half Blood bastard underestimates Kreacher's love for Mistress. Kreacher applied the 497th ward this morning."

"You put 497 wards up on that…" Sirius began to speak in an angry tone.

"Sirius!" Harry spoke quickly, a stroke of inspiration coming to him. "Can you please put up a silencing spell, so Albus and Remus can't hear us?"

The man looked at his godson in confusion but nodded and cast the appropriate spell.

"Thanks. Now, I think its time we told your mother the truth."

Sirius's expression morphed into one of befuddlement. "The truth?"

"Yes, Sirius. I know you wanted to keep it private, but I'm sure you can trust your own mother. And Kreacher has certainly proven his loyalty to the Black Family."

Sirius's look of confusion increased in intensity. "Harry… what are you…"

"I'm sorry, Sirius, but if you won't tell her, then I will."

Harry then looked to the portrait. With her look of pure confusion, he found it amusing that he could finally see something Sirius had inherited from his mother.

"Mrs. Black, why do you think Sirius befriended Remus Lupin?"

When she responded, her tone was both derisive and tentative. "Because he is a disgrace to the name of Black, of course."

Harry nodded agreeably, causing Sirius to stare at his godson in shock.

"Yes, that is certainly what it would like from the outside, and Sirius cultivated that belief. Tell me, are you aware of the existence of an ancient ritual that will increase a wizard's power ten-fold if they manage to get a werewolf to willingly sacrifice their life for said wizard?"

Walburga's eyes widened in surprise.

Sirius yelled "HARRY!"

Harry put his hand up to quiet his godfather. "Sirius, Remus can't hear us right now. You can stop pretending for these few moments. Come on, your mother is clever enough to realize that your anger is all an act. If you were truly angry at her, you would simply command Kreacher to remove her portrait and he would have no choice but to obey."

Sirius's jaw snapped shut, as he stared at Harry and a thoughtful Walburga and Kreacher.

Harry turned back to Walburga. "I was surprised as well when I discovered the truth. Even after being sent to Azkaban, he came out determined to maintain the act of 'good friend'. But it makes sense when you think about it. Tell me, Mrs. Black, when given the choice between your own flesh and blood befriending a werewolf for friendship's sake or befriending a werewolf as a part of a plan to kill that werewolf while vastly increasing one's power, what sounds the most reasonable?"

Walburga paused and then smirked. "Of course, and my disowning him would further affirm the 'friendship' as real with the half breed. But… why hasn't he done the deed yet?"

Harry smiled in response. "Well, it would of course have to occur on the werewolf's birthday. And, obviously, one that is a magically significant number."

Walburga nodded. "So, likely every seventh birthday, or something along those lines. Of course! And he joined Gryffindor because, like a proper son of the House of Black, he knew that the half breed was a werewolf on sight. Everyone knows Gryffindor is the house for idiots, half breeds, and muggle lovers. Oh, my son is so clever! I knew I couldn't have truly raised a blood traitor like… wait! You are a half blood, and he named you his godson."

Harry shrugged. "People BELIEVE I am a half-blood. But my father was a Pureblood and yet everyone 'knows' it took him years to get my mother to agree to go on a date with him. From what you know of those born from muggles, do you think they would delay by even a day to pass up the chance to be with a Pureblood?"

"OF COURSE NOT! Foul harlots, every single one of them is a Scarlet Woman! So, are you saying your mother was… a pureblood?"

"Absolutely."

"Then why have I not heard of her?"

"What sort of pureblood family would hide their identity?"

Walburga smirked. "Ah, one of the lesser families that supported Grindelwald. I always thought that we would see some 'dead' lines re-emerge in a century or so. And Sirius, having been able to fool all the Black family, would certainly be able to discover the truth of your mother before letting his friend marry her or being willing to accept her child as his godson."

Walburga looked to her son with a face full of pride, which Harry was certain was a foreign experience for Sirius. "Sirius, I hadn't realized just how devious you were. You are a credit to the House of Black!"

Sirius stared at his mother, barely eking out a confused "Thanks?"

Harry spoke up. "Now, I'm going to have to end the silencing spell, so Remus and Albus don't get suspicious. If you wish, you can keep screaming at us. Though, it would certainly help in rebuilding Remus's trust if he was convinced that you had a 'change of heart' and now welcomed him into your home. The choice is, of course, in your wise hands."

Walburga smiled viciously. "Oh, I think I can ensure that half breed is made fully welcome to ensure the future superiority of my House. Kreacher will be polite as well."

Kreacher's smile matched that of his Mistress. "Kreacher will please Kreacher's mistress. Kreacher will even treat the half breed as if it is human."

Harry smiled and canceled the spell.

"So, Mrs. Black, your home is beautiful. Could you possibly share some of its history with me?"

"And a little bit later, the two of you arrived."

Albus had a bemused expression, while Remus's expression was one of thoughtful approval.

Sirius stared at the other two adults with disgust. "How can you not look upset by this? Harry said that I was going to kill you Remus, and then agreed with all my mother's pureblood dung! He even denied Lily's muggle heritage!"

Remus smiled. "Technically, you weren't going to kill me. You were going to have me volunteer to sacrifice myself to you on my birthday. Sorry, only for when my birthday was divisible by seven. I'm not doing that, by the way."

Albus chuckled. "I would also say that he wasn't subscribing to her philosophy. He was only presenting a hypothetical scenario and asked her what made the most sense. She filled in the details herself. I'm pleased that politics lessons have not gone to waste. Though, it probably wouldn't have worked on the real Walburga."

Sirius huffed. "Fine, but you still denied your heritage."

Harry smiled. "How?"

"You said you were a pureblood."

"Well, my blood is pure blood. There is no mud in it, nor is half blood and half something else. It's all blood."

"That's not what pureblood means!"

Harry laughed. "Sirius, I can hardly be at fault if your mother's portrait chooses to not ensure we are using the same meaning for words. Come on, Sirius, what are you so upset about?"

Sirius scowled and swirled his fork in his pasta. "You made my mother think I agree with her."

Harry frowned. "Sirius, your mother is… well, she's dead. That's just a magical item with her likeness. Agreeing with her portrait is like telling the Fat Lady the password to get into Gryffindor Tower. Even if the password was 'Gryffindor is the worst', there would be no point in arguing with the portrait. It would be like when we saw that joke parchment at Zonko's Joke Shop, the one that insulted anyone who tried to read it who wasn't the owner. I mean, arguing with your mother's portrait would be as pointless as arguing with the parchment when it insults you."

Sirius suddenly winced as Remus laughed lightly.

Harry looked to Remus. "What?"

Remus grinned broadly. "James used one of those parchments on Sirius back in our sixth year. Sirius argued loudly with it for nearly three hours in the common room. It was one of the funniest things I had ever seen."

Harry began to laugh, only to hear Sirius grumble. "It was only two and a half hours."

Harry continued laughing loudly for another five minutes.

17. Chapter 17

Harry looked around the room he was sitting in, trying his best to hide his disbelief.

When Albus told him that he had found an instructor to teach Harry how to properly handle a sword, he had no definitive idea of what he should expect. That said, he was picturing meeting his teacher in some sort of specialized gym. And the teacher would be either muscular and middle aged, or wiry and ancient. He knew that he was getting this picture from some of the movies he had watched with Albus, Sirius, and Remus (Dobby always wanted to watch Marry Poppins), so he had kept an open mind. Still… the reality, after one week of anticipation, was… disappointing.

The room he sat in was a restaurant… well "restaurant" was overly generous. He was sitting in a place called Waffle House in a city call Columbus in the state of Ohio. Waffle House seemed to be a restaurant that was held together primarily by grease and optimism. Harry looked down at the meal that Albus recommended. It was exceptionally moist scrambled eggs topped with a melted piece of what seemed like the most unnatural slice of cheese he had ever seen. He had stopped at one bite and switched to nibbling on a piece of toast. Albus and his new teacher seemed to love the dish called Cheese 'N Eggs (not "Cheese and Eggs", his new teacher emphatically stated). Albus was already planning on getting a second order to take back to the apartment they were renting in the magical district.

If the meeting location was mildly disappointing and the food was moderately disappointing, then his new teacher was an utter disappointment. Leonard Weathersbee was indeed a middle-aged man (for a wizard, so likely in his 60s) with hints of muscles hidden under layers of fat. He also had a sizable gut that indicated that he earned his passion for this "restaurant" through MANY visits. He also apparently was a great fan of his home state, as he wore a sweatshirt with the text "OH-IO" and a cap with a crimson O embroidered on it.

As Len (as he preferred to be called) finished his meal, he sighed contentedly. "Ah, that always hits the spot. So, you're Albus's protégé, eh?"

Len's eyes scanned Harry appraisingly. "Are you sure you want to learn swordplay? You seem to have more of a runner's build. Swinging a sword around for hours on end is tough enough, but it will be torture if you don't already have the arm strength built up. Add onto that, Albus said you're likely only going to be around a month or two, the crash course is going to be murder. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to take your money and make you miserable, but I like Albus enough to give you a chance to back out. What do you think, kid?"

Harry frowned. "Albus already puts me through an intense physical training exercise, so I think I'll be able to keep up. I also have pretty good arm strength from all of my Qui…"

He caught himself when he remembered he was surrounded by muggles. "All of my training I did for my House team. But… can I talk to Albus for a moment?"

Len shrugged. "I'll go settle the bill while you talk."

Harry waited for the man to get up from the booth and walk to the cash register. Once he was there, Harry leaned over and whispered to Albus in a hushed tone.

"Are you sure he can really teach me how to use a sword? I mean, he doesn't appear to be…"

"Harry…"

"No, I mean he seems nice enough, but he seems to be a bit… out of shape."

Albus sighed. "Harry, there are three things you should know. The first is that Leonard was, back in his youth, ranked amongst the most talented swordsmen in our community. I assure you that you would need several years of dedicated training before his… shape would start to become a factor in his ability to handily defeat you in a sword fight. Second, the local Children's Hospital has a… special wing where I might be able to track down hints for curing Marcus's ailment, so this is the most convenient location for us to pursue leads. Finally, Leonard has excellent hearing, and I suspect has heard everything you just said. The cash register is not THAT far away from us."

Harry winced when he looked over and saw Len smirking as he accepted his change from the cashier.

"So" Len said as he slid back into the booth, "I'm not what you were expecting, eh? Were you expecting to train under someone like Mikoto?"

Harry looked at the man with confusion. "Who is Mikoto?"

Len's eyebrows rose in amusement as Albus responded. "Hiro Mikoto is the foremost sword master in the world and has maintained that title for the past seven decades. The few students who have managed to complete his training make up the ranks of the top ten practitioners of the art."

"Well, why can't I learn from him?"

Len laughed loudly. "Ah kid, you crack me up. Mikoto only takes on students who are already advanced with the sword. Well, and rich idiots who are willing to waste their money. The more inexperienced the idiot, the higher the charge. It's like getting a Harvard English Professor to teach your kid their ABCs. They can do it, but it is a massive amount of overkill and you're going to pay for wasting their time. Trust me kid, at your skill level, you could not afford Mikoto. Well, unless Albus here can get you some sort of 'friend discount'?"

Albus cleared his throat with annoyance. "I'm afraid Hiro and I had a disagreement at a party around eight decades ago. He insisted that he deserved the last glass of rice wine, while it was clearly meant to be mine. The disagreement became… heated. I managed to clean up the damages and heal the bystanders, but he has yet to forgive me for what was his own fault. I fear invoking my name would increase the price to… unreasonable levels."

Len chuckled. "That does sound like Mikoto. So, are you in kid?"

Harry nodded slowly. "I guess. When do we start?"

"We can head on over to my house and train in my basement right now if that sounds good. We'll setup a training schedule for 6 days a week. I'll find out what time the Buckeyes are playing and get you a timetable in the next day or two."

"What are the Buckeyes?"

Len smiled broadly, with a genuine look of joy. "Oh, you're in for a treat, kid! The Buckeyes are only the best Football team in the world!"

Albus leaned in towards Harry. "In case you are unaware, what we call Football is called Soccer here. American Football is a different sport."

Harry nodded, as he vaguely recalled reading or hearing something about that. Maybe Dudley had played a computer game… It didn't really matter.

"So, are they are the local professional team?"

"Nah, we leave that to Cleveland and Cincinnati. The Buckeyes is the team for Ohio State University."

Harry frowned in confusion.

"Do you work there?"

"I wish, but nah."

"Do you have relatives who are attending?"

"Nope."

"Then, why care about some random school team?"

In the years to come, Harry would intellectually know that only one person at a nearby table stopped talking and glared at him, but his memory would always be marked with the feeling that the entire Waffle House had become deadly silent and every eye turned towards him. What he would accurately remember was Albus wincing and the way Len's smile turned from joyful to malicious. He also remembered that first train trip and Ron's aghast face when Harry mentioned he had never heard of Quidditch, and instinctively knew he had just made a mistake.

"Let's go start you off with some… light training."

Albus sighed. "You go with Leonard, Harry. I'll go get surplus ingredients for what you will likely be making tonight."

Harry gulped.

Harry tenderly sat down at his desk that night. His bruise paste having been brewed and only needing to cool down before it could be applied. It turned out that Len was indeed much more than a match for Harry when it came to using the sword. They had used dulled wooden swords that weighed the same as the Sword of Gryffindor. They wouldn't cut, but they still hurt wherever he got hit.

Harry had tried used all the dodging skills he had used when dueling Albus. He discovered that the addition of the sword made most of his moves more harmful then helpful. The first roll he did ended up slamming the sword into his sternum, which Len gleefully assured him would have likely been fatal with a real sword. As the training progressed, Harry had made many more maneuvers that he was informed would have resulted in self-inflicted death and/or dismemberment.

At least he could look forward to tomorrow, where he was told they would take it a bit easier and make sure he would learn to hold his sword correctly. Though he was slightly disappointed when Albus told him that the sword training was not going to interfere with his already intense morning training sessions for magic.

Knowing that he was likely going to collapse in bed as soon as he finished applying the paste to his bruises (which meant covering nearly everything except his head), he pulled out parchment to write his letter to Marcus. His initial vow to writing twice a week had transformed into a daily letter after receiving his first reply thanking him profusely for caring about some "random sick kid".

Dear Marcus,

Before I tell you about today, I wanted to let you know that I am really impressed that you have already finished reading your Potions book for first year. I don't know the answers to some of your questions, and Remus has written a response which I will including with my letter. He didn't tell me the answers though, and now your questions have become my homework. So, he wanted to thank you for helping him do his job.

Oh, as you keep reading through the books, let me know if you come up with any ideas for how to improve the effectiveness of Bruise Paste. I'm going to be using a LOT of it in the coming weeks.

Now, on to my day. The first thing I want to tell you is, no matter what you may personally think. If you find yourself across the pond and in the States, NEVER NEVER NEVER question why people here care about non-professional school sports. Especially if the person you are talking to can make your life miserable. Here's what happened…

It was Saturday, just shy of two weeks after that first meeting with Len. Harry had the day off from training and was enjoying a day at the zoo. He was proud of his progress. He could now hold and swing a sword without hurting himself. Of course, his arms still ached in misery after every training session and had yet to successfully land a hit on Len. On the bright side, his arms were starting to become stronger. The strengthening arms also coincided with his wandless magic becoming both stronger and more precise. He still needed to touch something to impart his magic upon it, but he would be happy with any improvements. Albus had been working with Harry to help come up with inventive ways to get around the touch restrictions, and there were some interesting developments there.

With all his special training, and Remus's tutoring, Harry had not been able to explore America as he had hoped. Now that the summer break was over, he didn't have the same amount of free time that he had enjoyed in France. As such, he got to enjoy being a tourist on Saturdays (and the rare nights where he had the energy). These visits were made even better by three developments.

The first development was that Albus had finally figured out how to perform Hyper Jumps. Sirius and Remus were immensely envious, but nowhere close to replicating the feat. Say what you will about Albus Dumbledore, but the man was a genius when it came to the theory and practice of magic.

Once Albus had fully broken down the process and replicated the results that Harry achieved instinctively, he had been able to work with Harry to achieve the next two developments.

Their first joint development was expanding the distance for the Hyper Jumps. Harry had discovered that the limit for his jumps was around 1100 km (Albus had similar range), with some variation in the tested distances. He was able to still able to make a journey quickly by simply do a series of jumps, but he had not managed to significantly increase the distance of a single jump. When he finally got to see the magic from the outside, as Albus demonstrated the Hyper Jump, the pair had a breakthrough.

Harry had asked if Albus could start preparing the jump but to hold off on completing the jump. It took the pair roughly an hour to figure out how to hold off completing the jump. Once they did, Albus demonstrated and Harry was saw that the bending starfield effect stayed steady while Albus was holding himself in the prepared state. What shocked Harry and Albus was that after 33 seconds, the magic warped and rapidly bent and surrounded the elder wizard as if he were in a bubble. He was so surprised that he completed the jump. When he returned, he expressed that the trip felt even smoother than before. On a hunch, he repeated the process and jumped. When he returned, he told Harry that the beaches in Southern California were quite lovely at the moment. With that, Harry and Albus could now make the trip from the North East coast to the South West coast (over 4000 km) in one Hyper Jump (Harry had finally given into the name Albus came up with).

With the discovery of their Hyper Bubbles (Albus had named it first), they then made their final discovery. They could wrap the bubble around a second person and perform a Side Along Hyper Jump. Which opened up their journeys to include Sirius and Remus.

Which brought Harry to where he was now. He, Remus, Sirius, and Albus were exploring the San Diego Zoo. The last time he had been to a zoo had been with the Dursleys. The Dursley factor might be coloring his impressions, but San Diego's zoo was worlds better than the one in London. They had been there for hours seeing all the animals, and Harry gorging himself on several ice cream sundaes. Harry and Sirius had snickered when they visited the wolf enclosure and every wolf walked over to the edge of the enclosure and sat down and stared quietly at Remus. The surrounding tourists ignored Remus as they were just happy to let their kids get a closer look at the majestic creatures.

Conversely, every prey animal scattered whenever Remus approached their enclosures. It was a mixed blessing.

As Harry neared being ready to leave for the day, Albus took them to an out-of-order restroom. He opened the maintenance door and ushered them inside. As soon as he closed the door behind him, the maintenance closet disappeared, replaced by the entrance hall of an unknown building, and they found themselves staring into the eyes of an inpatient phoenix named Fawkes.

"Hello Fawkes" spoke a bemused Albus. "I apologize for the delay. I lost track of the time."

"Hello Fawkes" spoke a confused Harry who reached out to pet the annoyed phoenix (who was not so annoyed as he was willing to turn down having his chin scratched). "Albus, what is Fawkes doing here? Where is here?"

"This" spoke a pretty woman of Indian descent, "is the San Diego Magical Creature Reserve. Hello, Albus, I wasn't expecting to see you today. I really wish you would let us know when to expect you in the future. Though the girls did tell me that you weren't at Hogwarts anymore, so I shouldn't be overly surprised. Who are our other uninvited guests?"

Sirius stepped forward, an easy smile on his face and eyes quickly roaming up and down the woman's body. He reached his hand in preparation of giving hers a kiss. "I'm Sirius Black, though you can call me… anytime you like. And you are?"

As Remus groaned and shook his head, the woman kept her hand by her side as she rolled her eyes. "Happily married, and curious if that line ever works."

Remus extended his hand for a handshake, which was accepted. "I'm Remus Lupin, and Sirius was falsely imprisoned in the early 80s, so his lines have yet to be updated."

"A pleasure, Mister Lupin. I am Lakshmi Patil, the chief of Magical Creature Care and Health here. Did the line work in the early 80s?"

"… No"

Lakshmi chucked as she looked at Harry with a questioning look. Harry stepped forward to shake her hand. "I'm Harry Potter, Miss Patil. Albus and Remus are my tutors, and Sirius is my Godfather."

Lakshmi's eyes widened slightly in surprise as they briefly glanced at Harry's forehead and back to his eyes.

"A pleasure, Mister Potter. My nieces had mentioned you had also left Hogwarts."

"Nieces?"

"Padma and Parvati."

Harry's eyes widened. "You're Parvati's aunt? She was in my house. I'm sorry to say I didn't get to know Padma that well. How are they?"

Lakshmi gave a genuine smile. "They are doing quite well. Padma mentioned that she felt badly about thinking poorly of you last year. Parvati, well she also mentioned her regrets in contributed to your poor treatment, but I suspect she is mainly upset that you have greatly reduced the amount of 'juicy gossip' your presence generated."

Harry laughed lightly. "That does sound like Parvati. I am happy they no longer think poorly of me. So… is this like a magical zoo?"

Lakshmi frowned slightly as they walked forward. "No. While we are physically connected to the No-Maj zoo, we are not a zoo. We are here to provide sanctuary to those magical creatures that are happy here, while keeping the more dangerous creatures contained, and supplying healing to any injured creatures found in the wild. We don't typically allow visitors here."

Harry looked from Albus back to Lakshmi. "But you let Albus visit?"

Lakshmi sighed. "Yes, Albus does get to visit on occasion. Sometimes he is even welcome, as he is one of the few wizards in the world who capable of capturing the deadliest of creatures with a minimum of harm done to said creature. In skill, he is right behind the Scamander family and Xenophilius Lovegood. Though, I suppose I don't have to tell you that Mister Potter, as your account always gets paid three quarters of his rewards."

Harry's eyes widened as his head whipped around to look at Albus, vaguely noting that Remus and Sirius had also turned to the elder wizard.

Albus coughed uncomfortably. "I had not gotten around to informing Harry of that fact, Lakshmi."

He then met Harry's eyes. "We can talk about this in detail later, assuming you wish to do so. The short explanation is that your parents and grandparents spent a great deal of their fortune supporting the war effort and your parents strained those funds even further when they were on the run. I have been merely doing my part to recoup those losses so that you may have the financial freedom to pursue your passions when you are ready to enter the world as a fully matured wizard."

Harry's eyes misted slightly. He blinked hard. With a whispered "thank you" and returned nod from Albus, he turned back to Lakshmi.

"So, is the reason Albus is allowed to visit whenever he wants? Or is it just that he knows someone?"

"It's that he knows someone." She then nodded her headed towards Albus's phoenix.

"Fawkes?"

"Yes, Fawkes. Fawkes, which ones are your guests?"

Fawkes trilled, flapped his wings once and circled Harry and Albus.

"Just Albus and Mister Potter?"

Fawkes trilled agreeably.

"Mister Potter, who here is your guardian?"

Harry pointed to Sirius.

"Which means I have to let him join you. That would leave Mister Lupin by himself… fine, all four of you can come in. But this is a one-time exception. In the future, I will only accept Fawkes's personal guests, even if that means some of you are left waiting inside."

Albus nodded agreeably. "Of course."

Lakshmi sighed and then started walking toward the doors at the end of the entrance hall.

"Sorry" Harry spoke up. "Why does Fawkes get to decide the guests?"

"Because, before the zoo was here, before the reserve was here, before anyone was here, this is one of the two known phoenix gathering spots in the world."

She then opened the door, exposing the outside. They walked into a clearing filled with palm trees, bushes, clearly magical plants, and the air filled with over a dozen phoenixes flying through the air. They were clearly playing with each other. As they played, they all were singing their own song, each song building on the other in a perfect harmony that made Harry feel like his heart was bursting with a peaceful joy.

Some of the phoenixes were primarily red like Fawkes. Some were green, some were blue, one was a purple that was so deep it was almost black, but when in direct sunlight the purple nearly sparkled.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a burst of white and then a phoenix Patronus joined the flock, which all trilled in delight and started racing after Albus's Patronus. With a wide grin, Harry brought up his wand and got to experience what felt like the phoenixes' childish giggling when his own phoenix Patronus joined in on the fun. With the air full of phoenix song, maintaining the positive emotions for his Patronus came without any effort.

Lakshmi's breathed in deeply and all the tension seemed to drain out of her.

"Ahhh… this is my favorite part of the job. You see, no one knows how long the phoenixes have met her nor how long there have been wards to protect this location from the No-Maj population. The wards have been here as long as records go back and have been refreshed and reinforced consistently over the centuries. We suspect that this site was chosen for the No-Maj zoo because they could sense the phoenix presence at some level. No matter what wards you use, you can't make this area look unattractive as the amount of phoenix song nullifies the effects that would generate negative emotions. Some years after the zoo opened, Newt Scamander visited and proposed using space expansion charms to transform this place into a reserve."

"It's amazing!" spoke a stunned Harry.

Lakshmi smiled. "Yes, it is. Even without the semi-annual phoenix gatherings, the rest of the reserve is a wonder. With the addition of some wards I had placed about ten years ago, non-magical animals are now unable to enter the reserve without us allowing them. It has helped to keep the younger beasts safe from the various predators, well and in rare cases safe from the venomous snakes, spiders, and other such animals."

Albus moved his eyes from his Patronus being chased by the joyous phoenixes, several of which had started dive bombing through the spectral body and looked to Lakshmi.

"Why would the snakes and spiders make such a difference? The innate magic of the creatures should protect them from all but the most potent of venoms. Even then, if the bite is not immediately fatal, then the venom will be counteracted by the beast's magic. I didn't realize that the local snake population met that level of lethality."

Lakshmi nodded. "We primarily only have to deal with rattlesnakes, which are not typically a problem. The only concern is that there is a short time period in the youth of most magical beasts where their magic is just erratic enough that the venom won't be immediately neutralized. It's rare enough that I have only seen it once in all my years handling magical beasts. Newt believes that it happens if a young animal is bit during a spike in erratic magic. The venom bypasses their magic's defenses for a moment but is then held in stasis at the bite point. When their magic calms down, the venom is considered to be a natural part of their body at that precise location. The venom is then allowed to spread, but their magic responds to the spreading venom appropriately and neutralizes it and then tries to attack the bite point. However, their magic fights itself and reinforces the venom which becomes slightly magical, their magic calms down, the venom is allowed to spread, and the cycle repeats. With each iteration the venom becomes increasingly magical until it eventually becomes deadly and kills the poor beast on the last iteration. Now it is standard procedure here to scan any sick beasts for non-magical venoms."

Albus nodded. "Fascinating. Is that something I should worry about for Fawkes? On his burning days, I would imagine he would be susceptible."

"It couldn't hurt, remind me and I can send you the details of the scanning spells. Though, I wouldn't be worried. All of our research shows that a phoenix's magic does not tend to be erratic, even during a burning day."

Albus smiled in relief and looked back up to watch as Fawkes performed loop de loops around Harry's Patronus.

"I'm not sure why Fawkes prefers your Patronus over mine, Harry. I wonder if he is trying to make me jealous on purpose."

Harry chuckled. "I'm sure he wouldn't… well, he might."

Just then, Harry heard an odd warble coming from one of the phoenixes flying overhead.

"Move out of the way!" Lakshmi loudly exclaimed.

"What?" Harry asked as he looked up.

SPLAT!

Harry felt a big wet thing land in his hair, followed by the loud laughter of Sirius and the somewhat suppressed laughter of Remus.

Albus sighed. "Let's get you to a shower Harry to clean that out of your hair."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "No need, I can take care of it."

Harry quickly lifted his wand and spoke the words to the spell to clean his hair.

Sadly, it was only after the spell was cast that he registered the dual shouts of "NO!" from both Albus and Lakshmi.

Dear Marcus,

As usual, I have enclosed Remus's answers to your questions. Congratulations on completing the book for second year. Also, thanks for your suggestion about not including the caterpillar heads in the Bruise Paste. Not only do I feel healed the morning after sword training, but I also feel much more energized. Albus has included a letter to ask you some questions about how you came up with the idea, and he told me he will be contacting his friends in the Potions community to see if it is an original idea. If it is, he will contact you about making sure you get proper credit.

Before I tell you about my visit to the San Diego Zoo today, let me just give you two important warnings. If you are around magical beasts and someone says to move, move first and look around second. Additionally, I have discovered that the excrement of a phoenix is magically inert but can have it magic activated if you cast a spell on it in the first 24 hours. So, if you want to clean it quickly, make sure to use purely non-magical means.

Anyway, my favorite part of the zoo…

Harry put down his quill as he felt the now familiar tingle on his head.

A moment later, the splattered phoenix poop ignited. As usual, his hair quickly followed suit and burned away leaving Harry bald and smelling of burnt hair and dung. Luckily, the phoenix flame didn't harm Harry's scalp.

With that complete, Harry resumed his (now daily) letter to Marcus.

Five minutes later, his hair rapidly starting regrowing to its original state. Sadly, the large splatter of phoenix poop also reconstituted. Albus told him the rapid burning cycle of phoenix scat only lasted between 12 to 24 hours. But the cycle could not be stopped once started. Even after washing his hair, the poop simply teleported back where it had originally landed when it was ready for another burning. Hopefully, he would get a full half hour this time before the next burning. At least his hair (which was now part of the burning cycle's magic) was always returned to its natural state quickly.

Once again, he glared into the corner of his room. There Fawkes and Hedwig stared at him, and he was certain their expressions were full of smug amusement.

It was going to be a long night.

Three weeks later found Harry sitting in a semi-meditative state. It was just before lunch and he found himself overwhelmed by the beauty and tranquility of his surroundings.

Before him were the sweeping majestic sights of the Grand Canyon. He almost had expected to see the area soaked in magic, but other than the occasional witch and wizard, the place was devoid of magic. It was humbling to Harry, thinking that something so amazing could just be caused by the natural forces of nature.

As a cool breeze blew through his hair, he breathed in deeply and reflected on his time in America.

The training with Len was going well. He was now able to get through a day of training with his arms merely in agony, as opposed to feeling dead. He was also able to correctly hold, swing a sword, block, and dodge without harming himself. Len gave Harry instructions for how to update his exercises over time to ensure he could continue his training once he moved onto a different country.

He still didn't understand the appeal of college football. But he now knew to keep that opinion to himself.

He had visited many places by now (the improvements to the Bruise Paste now let him have much more energy at the end of most days). He had seen The World's Largest Ball of Twine. He had seen The World's Largest Hammer. He had seen… well, if there was a well known "World's Largest" thing in the US (excluding Alaska and Hawaii), Harry had seen it. Being able to instantly travel anywhere in the country let him humor Albus's yen to see as many roadside attractions as he could in one Saturday.

He had a wonderful time at Disney World. He had hoped that there would be some sort of magical section of the amusement park, but it was purely muggle (excluding the nearby magical hotel and the magical law enforcement who monitored the park for signs of magic use). Still, being able to ride all those roller coasters had satisfied the part of him the missed playing as Seeker. He hadn't grown up with Disney films, so the characters met little to him.

He had also learned a great deal about the art of healing, at least the theory of it. He usually spent a couple of nights a week with Albus at the magical wing of the Columbus Children's Hospital. The healers were equally stumped about Marcus's health problems, but still regularly contacted Saint Mungo's with their ideas. Harry spent many nights reading books about magical healing.

Harry blinked, and cleared his mind. Every time he focused on Marcus's health problems, he started to feel a knot of anxiety form in his stomach. He instead focused on the news that it had been more than two weeks since Marcus's last burst of accidental magic, so his health was not deteriorating.

Casting his mind onto more pleasant subjects, he thought about his progress with his personal brand of magic. He had yet to overcome the need to touch objects to impart his magic on them (unless he used a wand). However, Albus helped him achieve a form of the summoning and banishing charms. When summoning an object, he instead focused his magic to pull his hand (or any chosen part of his body) towards the object. If he were sufficiently heavier than the object, the object would be pulled towards Harry instead. The same principle applied to banishing. He could even dictate the speed of the pull or push based on how much power he put behind his magic. Of course, if the object were too heavy, then Harry would be the one moved (as he discovered when he experimented with banishing his bed and ended up flinging himself into the opposite wall). It was limited, but at least meant he could always summon his wand to his hand. When Sirius was annoying him, he would use it to slide the man's plate away from his fork. Albus noted that while it was a petty use of his new ability, it was excellent for training his control.

He breathed deeply, admiring the sunlight shimmering off the water running at the bottom of the canyon.

He found himself remembering all his friends at Hogwarts. He was happy that he could now think of the twins as being friends, and even Hermione was starting to get close to earning the title back. Ron… well, he was trying. Still, Hermione… her last letter still made him chuckle. Apparently, she had become adept at cleaning up all the evidence of the twins' pranks, which had drastically decreased the number of lost points and detentions for the duo. People would get pranked, but the effects would be gone by the time a professor could investigate. However, she had yet to fully follow through on pulling a prank of her own, until she had an accident with the last attempt. She had set up a powerful dung bomb to go off and chickened out at the last moment. As such, she threw the dung bomb into a nearby cabinet. When it went off, the explosion severely damaged the cabinet. When Professor McGonagall investigated, she opened the cabinet and was hit by a blast of super concentrated dung stench. As such, the cabinet was removed, and Hermione received her first detention. The twins were so proud.

The wind switched directions, ruffling his hair. The whistling of the wind echoed off the canyon walls.

Harry's own academic pursuits were moving along. His Occlumency training helped, but the theory never came easily to him. He was much more comfortable in the practical aspects of magic. He envied Hermione and Marcus for their affinity to the theory.

Which brought his thoughts back to that poor kid stuck in a hospital room. He was well on his way to completing the book for fourth year Potions and had already surpassed Harry's expertise. Every other day, Albus or Remus had Harry include their letters with his own personal ones. He just wished that he could do something to help…

Wait!

Harry breathed deeply and fully entered his mindscape. There was something there. He looked through his memories of the healer books, his memories of every conversation, of every letter, of everything that he had done, said, or thought since Halloween. Something…

There! Maybe?

Surreptitiously, he pulled out his wand and cast a spell so he would not be noticed by the muggles. He focused on his destination and disappeared from his chair without a sound.

Arriving at his destination, he found the person he was seeking. Once he got their attention, he spoke with urgency.

"I need your help!"

18. Chapter 18

Harry winced as he turned his neck to look at his bedroom door, which had just opened.

It had been six days since his visit to the Grand Canyon, and impromptu cross-country journey. Six long days without any sort of news. Also, five days since Len, his tutor in swordplay, had decided to distract Harry by increasing the intensity of his training. Today had been the worst, as it felt like the man was trying to fit a lifetime of training into one day. And it was three minutes until his paste would be cooled and ready to start applying to his bruises. So, of course, Albus had decided to come in while Harry was trying to stay very still and not focused on the giant bruise that was his body.

Albus took one look at the cooling paste and smiled sympathetically.

"My apologies, Harry. I hadn't realized you were indisposed. Would you like me to return when you are in a less of a state of… discomfort?"

If his tired muscles would have allowed it, Harry would have shrugged. Instead, he simply turned his neck back to a more comfortable angle while glancing at his timer.

"You may need to step outside for a moment when the paste is cooled. Though, in my current state, it will probably take half an hour to just cover myself with that foul smelling godsend of a paste."

Albus frowned. "Why don't you just apply it with magic?"

Harry sighed. "Because the book said applying magic to the paste would ruin it."

"Yes, that is true. But you can simply apply magic to some washcloths and have them rub the paste onto you… have you been applying the paste by hand since you started training with me?"

Harry groaned. "You couldn't have told me about this earlier? This isn't a lemon-drop lesson about asking questions, is it?"

Albus chuckled. "I assure you that was not my intention. Had I known of your… less than efficient healing regimen, I would have told you the trick without prompting. Though, if you want to treat this experience as an object lesson in remembering to ask questions rather than suffering in silence, then feel free."

Harry closed his eyes in annoyance (mostly with himself). "Give me five minutes."

"Of course."

Five minutes later, Albus sat in front of a much more relaxed (as well as smellier and greasier) Harry.

"So, Albus, what did you want to talk about?"

Albus smiled. "Before I begin, you need to promise me that what I tell you does not go into your letters to Marcus. Not even a hint."

Harry became much more alert. "Of course! Is this about my idea? Was it…"

Albus's smile broadened. "It was correct. Well done! Right after you told me your idea, I contacted Saint Mungo's and told them. They then talked with Marcus about any unusual cases of accidental magic that he had before he started showing his symptoms. As he recalled his various episodes in the months preceding his hospitalization, he did remember one time where he was playing with his toy Quaffle. He had thrown it a bit harder than intended and it landed in some tall grass. As he searched, he found it to be thoroughly lost. As such, he began to panic that he would get in trouble with his parents for losing yet another toy. Predictably, his heightened emotions caused the Quaffle to come flying towards him. Sadly, it was hidden behind him and he didn't realize it was coming until it collided solidly into his head."

Harry rubbed his arm absently, remembering a certain encounter with a Bludger. "Ouch!"

Albus chuckled. "Not to worry, toy Quaffles are designed with small children in mind. I am sure it stung and came as a shock, but it would not have caused any damage."

Harry smiled in relief. "So…"

"So… the odd thing to Marcus, was that his leg stung almost as much as his head."

Harry's eyes gleamed. "Did the healers find anything?"

Albus shook his head. "No, the HEALERS did not find anything."

"But…"

"But Lakshmi did find something. Right in his thigh, there is a pocket of Adder venom. The healers couldn't find it because their spells are designed to find foreign sources of magic, whereas Adder venom is decidedly non-magical. Non-magical venoms have never been known to cause any problems in magical people, and so healers simply don't know the proper spells for detecting such things. Indeed, until Newt discovered the phenomenon, venoms of that sort weren't believed to be a problem in even magical creatures. Additionally, he was the one who invented the spells to detect venoms of a non-magical nature in the first place. He is a brilliant man but tends to be very focused on magical creatures and so it never occurred to him to think the humans might also suffer from the same weaknesses."

Harry cheered. "So, it took Mrs. Patil this long to get to see Marcus? That's why I hadn't heard anything?"

Albus, frowned. "Alas, no. Lakshmi took your request quite seriously, and arrived to see Marcus within 24 hours. It took her another day to track down the antivenom. There is a complication, I'm afraid."

Harry's cheer dimmed. "They can cure him, right?"

"In a sense, but their cure would be rather drastic. The venom has become so saturated with Marcus's magic that the antivenom does nothing. The reason why non-magical venom normally would not affect Marcus, is the same reason that non-magical antivenom has no effect. In advanced cases like this, when it comes to animals, Newt's recommendation is to remove the affected limb."

Harry gasped. "Can't they just remove the pocket of venom and then… regrow that section of leg, or something?"

"According to Newt, that doesn't seem to work. If even a drop of the venom is lying within some nearby tissue, it would cause it to regenerate even stronger as Marcus's magic would fight to restore its 'natural' state. The only way to be sure is to remove the entire limb. Had it just been a bite to the calf, then it might be an amputation above the knee. With it being on Marcus's thigh… well the traditional options are limited."

Harry's eyes narrowed in thought. "Traditional options… but… you! You've been skipping my normal training sessions. So, you've got something… which, it being you, would mean… would mean… ALCHEMY! You've got an answer using alchemy! Please, tell me you've got an answer!"

Albus smiled. "I indeed have an answer. It's part of why I have waited this long before talking with you. I have found a way to imbue the antivenom with my magic, which looks to be able to overcome Marcus's magic enough to neutralize the venom slightly. At the rate we are seeing, it will take anywhere from another five to twenty daily doses before we can fully neutralize the venom. However, I will need to visit him daily to calibrate how much of my magic to imbue in each dose, as too much of my magic may have a deleterious effect. Once neutralized, he can finally go home. Until then, he still needs to keep calm and free of bouts of accidental magic. As such, he absolutely cannot be aware of the treatment as the possibility of a cure might overly excite him. So, you must refrain from even hinting at something like this in your daily letters. Even a slight clue might undo the good we can do and then the healers will take the extreme measure of amputation if it comes down to it. Am I clear on the importance of keeping him uninformed?"

Harry nodded. "I understand, I really do!"

Harry beamed. His heart felt full to bursting.

"Is this why Len seemed to be going overly crazy with today's training?"

Albus chuckled. "I'm afraid I did mention to him that today might be your last day in America, for a while. He felt it important that you knew all you could possibly know to continue your training by yourself. That is assuming that you wish to join me. If you prefer, you can stay here and treat this as a winter break. I'm sure Remus and Sirius would happily stay here with you."

Harry rolled his eyes. "They just don't want to talk to Sirius's mom and house elf. We're all coming!"

Albus smiled as he stood up. "In that case, get packed."

As the older man walked towards the door, he stopped in the doorway and spoke over his shoulder. "Oh, you may want to brush up on wards. I have a lead on a possible horcrux."

"WHAT!?"

The man didn't turn around, but Harry was sure that Albus was smiling smugly.

One week later, Harry found himself sitting on a patch of grass reading his Potions textbook. About fifty meters from him was a rundown shack containing a horcrux. One of the magical tendrils from the locket had stopped roaming and was now firmly trying to connect to the shack. It was all very exciting.

The emphasis really needed to put on the word "was". When he had first arrived, over six hours ago, Harry had been excited. He watched with interest as Albus began to strip away the magical protections on the building. After an hour though, it had become tedious. After two hours, it had become boring. After three hours, Harry decided he was bored enough to try to wrap his mind around the Potions assignment Remus had given.

Albus settled down next to Harry, pulling out a flask of water. The old man had a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

Setting down his book, Harry spoke up. "Any luck?"

Albus sighed contentedly after finishing the last of his water. "Indeed. Say what you will about Tom, as I am sure you have rather a few choice words to say, but he certainly was committed to walking the untrod pathways of magic. I would have never thought to layer curses on random dead leaves, twigs, and pebbles as traps. Although, it's possible that he simply used the Gaunt house as a practice sight for all his future work on wards. None of his other strongholds had ever been this fortified, nor had such varied protections. Not they were unfortified, mind you, but the protections felt more refined. Still, another hour or so, and that should leave only the horcrux and whatever protections are applied directly to it."

"That's good, I would like to get home before nighttime, if possible."

Albus frowned. "I do apologize. Had I realized it would take this long, I would have chosen a day other than Christmas Eve to move forward with our plans here."

Harry shrugged. "Don't worry about it, getting rid of a piece of his soul will be a wonderful present. Plus, I still have a Potions book to not understand, so I'm good."

Albus chuckled. "It's not going well?"

Harry groaned. "No, and I don't get it. Marcus has never made a single potion, and yet he has already come up with two innovations that have been published. Why does OWL level theory come so easily to him, and I struggle to understand third year work?"

Albus smiled. "For most of my life, I would have said that it was one of the great unsolved mysteries of magic. Some people are just attuned to specific fields, and yet are horrible at others. No matter how smart they are, some subjects just elude them."

"Most of your life? Meaning, not anymore?"

Albus nodded. "I found, a little less than a decade ago, that the answer is found in the field of Divination."

Harry frowned in confusion. "Divination? Hermione wrote about that. She was allowed to audit the class for a month before choosing which electives she would not take. She said that the professor was a fraud and that the entire subject was a waste of time."

Albus chuckled. "Sybill would be pleased to hear that. Getting intelligent young witches and wizards like Miss Granger to abandon Divination is a pleasure to her. She does indeed give off the impression of being a fraud, with her constant predictions of her pupils dying of increasingly unlikely means. Her predecessor was like that as well. From what I hear, the Divinations Professor when I was child was also the same. One night, out of idle curiosity, I broached the subject with her. Her answer was… enlightening."

"How so?"

"Apparently, her job is not to teach Divination. Her job is to make students disbelieve Divination."

Harry looked at Albus with undisguised disbelief. "What?"

"It has to do with the nature of prophecies. This is normally taught over a period of months in seventh year to the true believers, those who refuse to believe that Divination is a joke despite Sybill's best efforts. Given that, I will be summarizing several hours of conversation into a drastically condensed form for you. Prophecies are powered by three types of magic. The weakest kind of magic is personal magic. If I hear a prophecy that I will break a plate, and I believe it, my magic will try to make my belief come true and it will cause me to break the plate. The prophecy would not have come to pass if I had just not believed in it. The second type is much more powerful, as it is Time Magic, where magic itself will manipulate time to make the prophecy come true regardless of one's belief."

"Magic can do that!? I mean.. I know, magic is weird, but still…"

Albus nodded. "It is surprising. Even more surprising to me, there are even two practical applications of studies into the field of Prophecy Magic. The most obvious is the Time Turner, which lets you travel back in time and interact with your past self, where you can enter a time loop where you are only able to do something because in the future you went to the past to enable the past you to do something. It's headache inducing if you thick on it too long."

"Yeah… that's… yeah… what's the second application?"

"That would be a potion called Felix Felicis. It is a potion that is supposed to give you good luck. What it really does, which I only learned from Sybill, is manipulate the past to transform the present into a state where you have good luck."

Harry felt his eyes bug out slightly in shock. "So… to be clear, there is a device that can let you travel back in time, and a potion that manipulates time to give a person good luck… why don't people use it all the time? Why didn't my parents use it to stay alive? Why didn't Tom use it? I mean…"

Albus nodded. "I understand your confusion. You are not alone in your questions. The answer lies in the third and most dangerous magic that powers Prophecy Magic, which is Justice Magic. Magic seems to have a sense of justice. Not a type of justice that matches up with human notions of justice, and it could be somewhat seen as a cold, even cruel justice. It can best be described as a desire to punish those who abuse Magic itself. Usually, if magic doesn't want someone to have access to a Time Turner or Luck Potion, events will simply transpire such that they don't get it. If you get access to a Time Turner or some Felix Felicis, it is likely because you were fated to get it. However, If someone fights magic's desires on this and gets a hold of the Turner or the Potion, then they may find themselves erased from existence by the Time Turner, or their Good Luck ending right a painfully fatal moment."

Albus continued after seeing Harry nod slowly. "Now, one of the problems is that if enough Personal Magic fuels a prophecy, then Time Magic will take over and start to fuel it. At which point it becomes a True Prophecy. Do you know the best thing to do with True Prophecy?"

After a shake of Harry's head, Albus continued. "You ignore it. Pretend like you didn't hear it. Otherwise, you might be tempted to try to make the True Prophecy come true in the way you prefer. If you do that, you then risk invoking Justice Magic, and then bad things are bound to happen to you, your loved ones, your plans, or any combination thereof."

Harry rubbed his forehead slowly. "So, Divination professors try to make people think prophecies are a scam, so they are more likely to ignore predictions and… not turn prophecies into True Prophecies?"

Albus smiled. "Exactly. Also, to prevent people from invoking magic's wrath with Justice Magic. So, if you ever hear a prophecy, and you think you know someone it applies to, try not to tell them. I would only ever share something like that if I was in some sort of worst-case scenario where not sharing the prophecy would somehow make things worse."

Harry's brow knitted in confusion. "But… what about Seers? Those who make the prophecies?"

"They do whatever they can to forget and unburden themselves of the responsibility of seeing the future and knowing they, more than most, are bound by their own visions. If they see themselves going somewhere, then they go to the place whether they want to or not. Sybill's method of coping is… copious amounts of cooking sherry."

Harry nodded. "OK. Prophecies should be ignored. I should be happy I'm not a Seer. Got it. But what does that have to do with Potions?"

"Ah, yes. This is what came as a surprise to me. Potions originated as a form of Divination."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I think I'll need a little more than that."

Albus nodded and stretched his legs out on the patch of grass they sat upon. "It's not just Potions. Every branch of magic started out in Divination. This is a facet of Divination only the truly advanced students discover, well… I suppose also Headmasters can also discover it if they are willing to properly talk with their Divinations Professors. It is rather like Philosophy in non-magical studies, where Math, Medicine, Science, and most every other field of study started out as Philosophical discussions. When the Philosophical discussion started to have practical applications, it was spun off into its own field. The same applies to Divination. Divination, at its roots, was about divining the nature of magic. As people divined the nature of magical plants and animals and how they interact, they spun that study off into the field of Potions and Herbology. When they divined the nature of the structure of objects and how that interacts with magic…"

Harry smiled. "They spun that study off into Transfiguration. So, it only seems like a useless subject because people keep taking the useful parts away. So, why does that mean I am terrible at Potions."

Albus grinned. "Because you are not the Potions version of a Seer."

Harry's jaw dropped. "That… that actually makes sense. Hermione wrote about how she could understand all the techniques for Divination, but never saw any glimpse of the future. She's not a Seer, so the techniques just wouldn't work as well. However, when it comes to Potions just is able to figure out how to reverse problems that I know the books didn't discuss. Meanwhile, I can understand the techniques for making Potions, but it will never come that naturally to me. Does that mean that Marcus is a Potions… well Potions Seer sounds weird, but is he one?"

Albus shrugged. "Perhaps. He certainly seems to have a stronger affinity for the field than I have seen in many decades. Though, he might just be a genius who is bored. Never underestimate what can be generated by the mind of a bored genius. I have a lighter somewhere in my possessions which started as a normal light, and now can absorb balls of light, act as a remote Floo, and… well I have tinkered with so much, I have lost track of all the random abilities it has. We will have to wait some years yet to see where Marcus lies on the spectrum of bored genius to Potions Seer."

Harry dismissed the idea that Albus lost track of what enchantments he had put on some random lighter, as it was hardly surprising. "So, is this whole Divination thing the reason why I have trouble remembering the magic theory I read in all these books?"

Albus stretched as he stood up. "No, I suspect that has more to do with the fact that you learn better by doing over reading. That's just standard human behavior. All you can do for that is just recognize that character trait, buckle down, and then read as best as you can. Speaking of which, I have some more protections to take down, and you have a book to get back to."

Harry grumbled as he picked up his book.

It was 87 minutes later when the final protection on the Gaunt Shack came down.

Harry followed Albus into the shack and noted how the whole place made Sirius's home look positively pristine. The floor was littered with the skeletons and rotting remains of various vermin that had entered the house and had their life energy drained by the horcrux. The furniture was coated in thick layers of mold, and mud coated the floor. Clearly, Tom hadn't cared about keeping out rain and dirt. With a quick pulse of his magic, Harry covered his head in a layer of fresh air to keep out the smell of rot, death, and decay.

He was so focused on the surroundings that he nearly bumped into Albus, who had stopped in the middle of the room. Following the older man's intense gaze, he saw a gold ring with a black stone inset that was sitting on the center of the mantle above the fireplace.

"No, it couldn't be…" he heard Albus mumble.

"What is it?"

Albus seemed to not hear him. The man continued to mutter to himself. "The Stone! It has to be it. The Gaunts are old enough… I can feel it… Arianna! I can finally apologize…"

Harry felt alarmed as he saw Albus's eyes seem to glaze over as he slowly started to step forward. His hand began to reach out towards the ring. Harry looked at the malicious magic rolling off the ring and spoke in alarm.

"Albus! What are you doing!?"

Albus ignored Harry, attention fully on the ring. "I'm so sorry. You'll see I'm better. You'll have to forgive me. I'm good now. I'm good. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so…"

Albus's mumbles became too quiet for Harry to hear as the man kept edging closer to the ring. With a burst of panic, he reached out and touched Albus's robes.

Albus yelped in surprise as he suddenly found himself floating in midair, held up by his levitated and strengthened robes.

Albus's eyes widened in… was it fear? Panic? Anger? Harry wasn't sure, but they widened when he unsheathed the Sword of Gryffindor and moved towards the ring.

"NO!" Albus shouted in a hoarse cry of fear, sadness, and wrath. "Harry, don't destroy it! I need it! If you ever cared for me, you won't do this! PLEASE! Please! Please please please please…"

Harry winced and took a deep breath. Then, ignoring Albus's cries and struggles, with a well-practiced arm he swung the sword down swiftly and smoothly. The combination of a magically sharp edge and basilisk venom allowed the sword to split both the ring and stone in half along with slicing through the rotted wood of the mantle, followed by a shriek of rage and pain coming from the offending object. With that, he heard a gasp from Albus as the man stopped struggling and fell silent.

Looking down at the floor, he saw the sizzling halves of the black stone. The black stone that had so ensorcelled Albus, and with a nod he slowly pushed the tip down onto one of the halves and watched as the venom began to dissolve it into nothing. He repeated the process on the other half. Looking around the room, he saw that whatever magic had been upon the ring and stone was now completely gone. With a nod, he turned around to look at a floating Albus. Gratefully, the man's eyes seemed focused and he had a much calmer demeanor.

"Thank you, Harry. I had felt the compulsions on Tom's horcrux, trying to get me to wear the ring, and was easily battling them. But then I saw the stone… I'm afraid it caused me to drop my defenses for a moment. It was a clearly a moment much too long. Had you not been here, I fear… It is likely for the best that the stone is no more, and I doubt I would have had the strength to destroy it myself. Some things are… best removed from the world where they can cause temptation."

Harry touched Albus's robes and gently lowered him to a standing position before undoing his magic.

"What was the stone?"

Albus stared at the two spots where the stone's halves had dissolved. He was silent for a moment before answering. "A legend. A children's story. One that I thought I no longer cared about. If you are agreeable, we can discuss it at some later point. I just need… some time."

Harry nodded. "And Arianna… your sister?"

Albus's eyes glistened and nodded slowly.

"Well, I know I can't speak for her… but if I were in her place, I would forgive you. You nearly did something very… unwise…"

Albus chuckled ruefully. "I appreciate the politeness, but you can call it stupid, Harry."

Harry nodded. "You nearly did something… monumentally stupid, and all because you wanted her to know you were sorry. If she didn't already know, that certainly must have convinced her."

A single tear rolled down Albus's cheek. "Thank you, Harry. You continue to amaze me. Now, let's leave this place. I could do with a nice Hot Chocolate."

With a nod, the two disappeared from the spot without a sound.

The next morning, Harry stretched out in his bed with a smile. Kreacher had done an amazing job over the past months making Sirius's home into a habitable location. It was excessively clean, but it wasn't filthy either. After preparing for the morning and getting dressed he walked downstairs.

In the sitting room sat a massive tree. Sirius and Remus had expanded the room's height, so all 14 feet of the tree (and 3-foot-tall star) could easily fit. It glimmered with magical lights and was decorated with a huge collection of ornaments that Remus had gotten from every state they had visited in America, along with many oddly shaped ornaments made by Dobby (they looked to be clay sculptures of Harry in the middle of various actions (the one of him slaying the basilisk was especially impressive), each one showing a clear progression in the elf's skill level.

Under the tree was a large stack of presents. Many from the four men and one elf, along with more from the Hogwarts staff and Harry's friends. If he wasn't mistaken, there were some more from the Goblins of Egypt (though they seemed to all be addressed to Dobby).

"Merry Christmas, Harry"

"Merry Christmas, Sirius" Harry answered as he turned around and laughed.

Sirius was grinning widely as he and Remus walked in dressed as Elves from the North Pole, followed by Dobby dressed as Santa.

Thankfully, Albus refrained from dressing as Mrs. Claus.

After a full day of presents, laughter, and an excessive amount of food, Harry relaxed into the couch. Remus, Sirius, and Dobby were rushing around the room having a snowball fight while Harry casually refilled their bowls with snowballs with a simple touch. With a pleased sigh, he set down the letter from Marcus, having read it half a dozen times already. It was a short and excited letter telling Harry that the boy was finally cured and was able to spend Christmas at home. Harry would make sure to write back before he went to bed.

Albus sat in a nearby armchair, contentedly reading a book on the history of candy (Harry's gift to the man) while warming himself in front of the crackling fire in the fireplace.

"Albus?"

"Hmm?"

"Do we have any Butterbeers?"

Albus conjured a bookmark before closing his book. "I don't believe we have any on hand. Why?"

"Would you mind going to get some for all of us?"

Albus looked at his book with longing before sighing. "I suppose. I will be back shortly."

It was ten minutes later when Albus returned with five bottles of Butterbeer. Harry was sitting on the couch still, but he was now joined by Sirius, Remus, and Dobby. Sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch was a package.

As Albus set down the bottles, he looked at the package.

"What is this?"

Harry smiled. "That's one last present. It's for you. Open it."

Albus picked up the present and began to unwrap it as Harry stood and continued to talk.

"I had Dobby teaching me for a while now. I have been working on those, by hand, for the past month. I know they aren't the best quality, and we're not Nicholas and Perenelle…"

Albus stared down in awe at the open package, containing a pair of red and gold hand-knitted slight misshapen warm woolen socks.

"… but I think some traditions deserve to continue. Even if some people can't be there to celebrate anymore."

Harry handed Albus an open bottle of Butterbeer, which Albus took gently. The old man's eyes glistening brightly.

"Merry Christmas, Albus."

The only response Harry got for several minutes was a grateful hug.

19. Chapter 19

Harry sighed contentedly as he drifted through the air in his magically reinforced and levitated clothing. It was a nice change of pace from the strenuous aerial acrobatics he performed during his daily training sessions. For most days he would spend half an hour flying unaided through the air (not too high while outdoors, as he had to perform simultaneous pushes and pulls against the ground to maintain a level altitude) in an erratic jerking fashion so that he could avoid being hit by spells cast at him from all three adults in his life. Of course, he then got to spend the next half hour flying around and casting spells at those three adults while he enjoyed watching them scramble out of the way (well, Sirius and Remus scrambled, Albus seemed to barely move and yet avoided nearly 95% of the spells).

This feeling, floating with his eyes closed, was pure bliss. He focused his magic through his left pinky toe to pull himself towards a wall. As he sensed himself nearing an obstacle, he repelled his right hip from another wall to slide out of the way of whatever was approaching (probably Dobby in the hammock that Harry was levitating). If asked, he would be unable to describe what exactly it was that let him detect his surroundings (nor how much of it was magical instinct and how much was physical instinct), but the best he could say was that Albus's training had honed his Seeker skills to a ridiculous degree of effectiveness. While on the ground, his dodging skills were top-notch. But, in the air, he was nearly untouchable.

Of course, Harry was extra relaxed because he was done with Remus's tests. It had been a bit more than five months since Christmas, with tomorrow being the first of June. As such, Harry had spent the past two days taking tests to assess how far his schooling had come. He had been pleasantly surprised to find that he felt confident about his performance, even in his weaker subjects (especially Potions).

After Albus had described the idea of a "Potions Seer", Harry had ironically found himself better able to focus on his Potions studies. It had taken a few weeks before he realized how disheartening it had been to see a young kid like Marcus (with whom Harry still corresponded on a weekly basis) take so easily to a subject that Harry struggled with. It was a relief to know that there was a reason why some people were simply going to have more of an affinity for a branch of magic than him. As the pressure to become an instant expert fell away, he realized he had subconsciously been more focused on finding a way to make Potions come easily to him, rather than buckling down to study. After all, casting unique magical spells came almost naturally to him, so it had only made sense that everything else in magic should come just as easily to him. Harry conceded that perhaps there was a shortcut to mastering the subject, but it seemed that with his lack of natural affinity for the field he would simply have to study it the hard way until he knew enough to see the shortcut. With that understanding, studying became just another facet of training. After several months of being able to focus, he now felt much more competent in both the theory and practice of Potions (along with Ancient Runes and Arithmancy).

Speaking of unique magical spells, that uniqueness was something that Harry was pleased to discover. On one of the occasional visits to Grimauld Place (either when they stopped over between Spain and Japan, or between Australia and Canada, it was hard to keep track as the transport vehicles took nonsensical routes), he found himself pondering one of his early discussions with Albus about his approach to magic. Though a magical effect could be insanely difficult to achieve, dreadfully unethical to attempt, or simply not worth pursuing, nothing was impossible when it came to magic. Harry took that belief to be a matter of fact, so why would it be so difficult to clean the grime in magic rich environments? Clearly his own experience showed that the cleaning spells did not work effectively, but that would imply it was impossible to achieve, which meant that Harry was doing something wrong. As his mind had looped over that conundrum, he remembered another facet of Albus's philosophy for magic. Albus believed that magic liked to reward those who made their own way through the dense foliage of magic's metaphorical jungle. That is when he realized that he had been using a spell that came from the well-worn pathways of magic that others had long tread, so of course he would encounter the same limitations that others had.

With that thought, he had instead focused on the effect he wanted. As he focused on the idea of an object removing all the filth, all the grime, all the build-up, returning to a state of pristine condition, Harry placed his hand on the wall of the kitchen. Kreacher had done a wonderful job cleaning the house, but it still had years of magical grunge worked deep into the various materials. Harry pushed his magic into the wall and had felt resistance. The magical residue keeping the filth in place was fighting him. Thinking back to the Malfoy wards, he had begun to experiment with "vibrating" his magic (Albus had not been able to explain his process in a way that made sense, so Harry was guessing here). He quickly lowered and increased his power, he forced the magic to push out in a wave across his hand, he even tried a blast at full strength (which did work a bit, but no more than the regular overpowered cleaning spell). Then he thought about how he would clean something like this without magic during his Dursley days. He took a deep cleansing breath, and then began to focus on the magic swirling out from the center of his hand, like using a round scrubbing brush. The resisting magic began to break down in the swirling eddies of Harry's magic. When he lifted his hand, there was now a pristine handprint on the wall. With a smile, Harry put his hand back, and focused on having the cleaning swirls continue out from beyond the borders of his hand. Ten minutes later, the walls glowed with yellow light as decades of filth dissipated into nothingness. Twenty-five minutes later, a tired Harry sat in a completely pristine kitchen (yet another thing which endeared him to the portrait of Sirius's mother, much to Sirius's annoyance).

It was that experiment where Harry finally understood that his brand of magic was unique to Harry James Potter. When he cleaned, it was a Potter spell. When he floated through the air, he was using a Potter specific levitation spell (he chuckled as he thought of correcting Hermione by saying "You're saying it wrong. It's Wing-Potter-ium Levi-o-sa"). That revelation is what led him to begin his experiments in using parts of his body to cast magic other than his hands and fingers. Sadly, he had yet to figure out how to remove the need to touch an item to cast his brand of spells, but he knew he would get there eventually. Albus had offered to give some ideas, but Harry wanted this to be his own project. This was his path to make, and he would have fun making it.

"Oh dear" spoke Albus, breaking Harry out of his reverie. He had not realized that he had so lost himself in thought. Though, he was pleased to see that he had instinctually kept floating around the room without bumping into anything (or any napping House Elf in a hammock).

Harry rotated to face down toward Albus, seeing the man was reading a letter. "What's wrong?"

"Hmmm? Oh, it appears Professor Rodgers won't be returning to his post next year."

"Professor Rodgers?"

"The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts. He's an old friend of Silvanus… Headmaster Kettleburn. It appears the poor man has had a spate of bad luck."

"What sort of bad luck?"

Albus looked down at the letter. "It appears he has managed to have over a dozen cases of food poisoning, which should normally be impossible. He has had miscast spells hit him during class, breaking both of his arms on more than one occasion. Yet, the man persevered. It appears the final straw was when the stairs randomly shifted faster than normal and then rapidly reversed directions. He then fell over the railing, managed to hang on and then the stairs moved at previously unseen speed and slammed him into the wall… 13 times in a row, though he may not recall the number precisely. He lost his grip and managed to cast a spell as he fell six stories to somewhat soften the floor right before landing and managed to survive. They he did shatter all the bones in both of his legs and completely crushed his wand. It appears the poor man has decided that the position is… not the best fit for him."

Harry winced in sympathy. "I don't blame him. Hopefully, the next professor will do better."

Albus sighed. "Hopefully, though I wouldn't count on it. I suppose it was too much to think that leaving my position would be sufficient to break the curse on the position. I had hoped that Tom had perhaps been that petty to make the curse based on my employment."

Harry frowned in confusion. "What curse?"

Albus raised an eyebrow. "Certainly, you must have heard that the position is cursed. I know that rumor has been spoken amongst the student body for many years now."

"Wait, that's true? I figured that you would have been able to solve a problem like that a long time ago if it were true."

"It is painfully true. Much like the two of us, Tom has experience finding unique ways of using magic. Luckily, he tends to be happy with extreme shows of power over finesse and experimental spells. Still, when he has a mind to do so, he is capable of amazing feats of inventiveness. He cursed the position quite some time ago, and I have yet to figure out a way of countering it, or even finding out how it is being maintained."

Harry's brow furrowed in thought. After a moment he spoke slowly. "How does it work?"

"It appears to be designed to ensure a person is unable to act in the position of a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for more than one school year. How it achieves this goal varies. Sometimes the person is affected physically. Sometimes the person is affected mentally. A couple of times the person has had crimes revealed which result in them being imprisoned. Luckily for Gilderoy, it appears it was satisfied by his cowardice forcing him out of the castle. Luckily for others, it does not seem to trigger for someone acting as a substitute for a day or two, as long as that person is not being hired to take the position full-time."

"Have you tried just hiring the person for only one year? Then you would have time to interview candidates for the next year."

Albus appeared to just barely restrain himself from rolling his eyes as he spoke with a tone of exasperation. "Yes, Harry, I have tried that. If the person is only planning on one year, the curse still ensures they are unable work a second year. If I hire someone before the end of the school year, the curse seems to hit the pre-hired person even harder when the school year starts, and they are usually unable to teach within one month."

"Well… what about…"

"Harry, I have consulted with curse breakers, who have found nothing. I have consulted with lawyers who are experts in finding loopholes to exploit. I have renamed the course. I have canceled the course for a year, which cost me quite a bit of political capital. I have changed the physical classroom. I have tried having it taught in Hogsmeade and at Hagrid's shack. Every attempt I have made has always resulted in the same result, where I lose the professor. The more extreme attempts have had more extreme negative impacts on said professor. I have thought about making the course a fully student-run course without a member of staff leading them, but I feared the curse would view the lead student or students as the target and I much rather an adult suffering from the curse even if the students are left to mainly learn through self-study. Whatever Tom did, it was highly effective and flexible."

Harry's eyes opened wide in shock. "Wow! I… huh… it sounds almost like Tom is constantly observing and adjusting the curse to match your efforts."

Albus nodded. "Yes, I am not sure how he could do that without being there… himself…"

Albus sighed extremely deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

"There is a way for him to have been there this entire time. At least, a part of him."

The room went silent at this statement. Remus looked up from grading Harry's test. Dobby popped out of his hammock. Sirius, who had been snoozing in his dog form at Remus's feet had transformed into his human form. All eyes were on Albus.

It was Harry who broke the silence.

"So, you believe, in Hogwarts, there is…"

"A Horcrux, yes."

With that, Albus pulled out the locket from his magically safe box. Harry stared at the locket. He had not looked at the thing in months, as Albus had still not had much luck in continued efforts to track down leads on possible locations. As he always did, he looked at the magic rolling off the foul artifact. Watching the tendrils of dark magic roam along the surface, seeking out the other pieces of the madman's soul.

Harry frowned.

"Albus…"

"Yes?"

"After we destroyed the ring, the number of tendrils went down to three. Right?"

Albus frowned as he responded. "That is correct". He then looked down at the locket, where his frown deepened.

"Then, why are there now four tendrils?"

"Tommy Riddly being bad dead wizard!"

Albus sighed. "Yes, Dobby, a bad dead wizard indeed."

It was six weeks later, and Harry once again found himself in Britain. Sirius and Remus were tracking down someone named… Mundingus? Muddygus? Sirius always said the name with a hiss of contempt, so Harry had difficulty hearing the name clearly. Regardless, the man had his fingers in the less than legal side of society, so they hoped he might have heard of some areas that were considered too dangerous to approach. It was Sirius who thought this might lead to a hint of where to look for the remaining Horcruxes.

Meanwhile, Albus had tracked down a hint that Tom had once worked at Borgin And Burkes, a sketchy store in Knockturn Alley that Harry vividly remembered tumbling into during his first experience with Floo travel. Walking into the store was certainly much more of a pleasant experience, now that he had Albus accompanying him and the massively increased confidence in his own ability to defend himself. What a difference it was to not be scared and confused.

The store itself was as gloomy and creepy as he remembered. In a way, it made him appreciate Grimauld Place. Grimauld was gloomy and creepy because it had been left to deteriorate over the years (although Harry by now had completely cleaned to pristine condition, even the disturbing plaques holding the heads of the Black family's prior House Elves). This store, however, was clearly gloomy and creepy as a design decision (sometimes he hated that Gilderoy had made sure Harry understood ALL about design decisions, despite his many many MANY requests to stop talking about the subject).

"Ah…" spoke a nervous Mr. Borgin. The man with sallow skin, gulped and then smiled in the same way Harry remembered Dudley smiled whenever Vernon had work associates over for dinner. It was the sort of smile might see on a plastic doll created by an alien who had been given the basic gist of what a smile was. And just like the smile, the man's oily tone of voice was equally off-putting. "Hello, Headmaster. How may I help you today?"

Albus smiled pleasantly. "Good day to you, Balthazar, it always a pleasure to see you. I was hoping to talk to you about a former employee of yours. Do you, perhaps, remember a young man by the name of Tom Riddle?"

As Albus slowly and politely interrogated the man, Harry began to wander the store. Once again, he saw the desiccated hand he remembered from his first visit. There was the fancy necklace with a warning about its deadliness. Various nasty daggers, dried body parts, and untitled books made up the inventory. It was mostly the same as he recalled, except for the odor.

During his first visit, the store had a musty odor. That was still the predominant odor. Except, now, there was a slight undercurrent of… dung? Out of a mixture of curiosity and boredom, Harry followed the odor and found it was the strongest coming out of the large cabinet he remembered from his first visit. Opening the door slowly, he peered inside to find the source of the faint whiff of foulness. Oddly, the cabinet was empty.

While staring at the floor, he began to look at the magic of the cabinet, hoping it would give him a hint. His eyes widened in interest. While visually the grain of the wood contained swirls and other interesting properties, magically It looked like the grain of the wood was made of glowing threads of light that were all pointing towards the back wall of the cabinet, the magical threads looked to be straining to start flowing into the wall. Looking at the side wall to his left, its magical grain was also pointing to the back wall. Turning his head to the back wall, things progressed in rapid succession.

In the center of the back wall, a very familiar tendril of malicious dark magic extended into the shop towards Albus. Likely connecting with the locket that Albus was carrying. Before the decision-making portion of his brain could engage, Harry's impulses warred with each other. With one impulse, he stepped into the cabinet to investigate closer. With another impulse, he turned with the intention of fetching Albus. The two impulses resulted in Harry tangling his legs around each other as he tripped himself and fell into the cabinet, slamming the door behind him. The only thing he managed to communicate to Albus was a rather shocked shout of the beginning of a word that started with the letter "F".

Harry saw the magic threads activate and speed towards the back wall as he felt like his magic was being dragged forward (a feeling he would likely have missed if Albus had trained his magical senses so aggressively). While the pull was different, it was similar enough in sensation to his Hyper Jumps that he knew he was being transported somewhere. While he was not at Albus's level, he had been trained well enough for his magic to react instinctually to danger. And he was certainly in danger. Whatever transportation magic was at play, was unstable and was starting to become… wobbly. Without conscious thought, his magic reached out as if he was apparating, to widen the tunnel and stabilize its walls. While doing that, it also applied elements of his Hyper Jumps to enhance the power of the magic transit tunnel within which he found himself. Without the many months of intense honing of his instinctual magic, Harry would have likely been in much more trouble.

With a loud "K" sound yelled from the surprised young man (finishing the word he had begun in the store), Harry crashed through a cabinet door.

As he fell, he curled into a controlled fall, and rolled quickly to his feet. Snapping his wand into its ready position, his free hand pooling with magic, Harry crouched in preparation to dodge or attack or run. The magic of the room was overwhelming his sight, so he switched to his normal vision for the moment (noting the direction the tendril led). He was in a location that held Tom's Horcrux. Who knew what foul abominations existed in this mysterious… rubbish dump?

His body remained tense, ready for anything, but a slight frown formed on his face. The room was cluttered with huge piles of… well… clutter. Tattered books, beat-up trunks, broken broomsticks, melted cauldrons, cracked crystal balls, a collection of empty Sherry bottles, and on it went. Why would Tom leave his Horcrux with all of this… junk?

With a deep breath, he nearly gagged. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the cabinet behind him, and it smelled like… well like if the troll from first year had decided to use the bathroom for the room's intended purpose. With a quick thought, he had a bubble of fresh air around his head and the smell disappeared.

"Well, now I know where that odor was coming from… wherever I am. Now, what do I do? Albus would want me to head back immediately… but, what if we can't get back and we lose our chance at the Horcrux? I mean… DAMN IT! Come on Potter, if you could take on a basilisk by yourself, you can take a few mounds of junk. And… you can probably try not channeling Sirius and stop talking to yourself out loud."

Harry really hoped no one had been around to hear him talking about Horcruxes.

Knowing he was in for a lecture later, Harry decided to search for the Horcrux while resolving to retreat if things got too dangerous. Harry kept alert as he moved towards the direction of the tendril. As he walked, he forced some magic into his feet to leave glowing footprints that would lead him back to the cabinet. Every few steps, he would look at the magic around him, focusing on the tendril. He had to make his way around the haphazard piles, while the tendril traveled straight through them.

After fifteen to thirty minutes (Harry was not sure about how long he had been searching), he found himself staring at a discolored old tiara. As clear as day, he could see one tendril of dark magic that was connecting directly to where the cabinet stood. Additionally, there the expected three more tendrils roaming across its surface. Without a doubt, this was the Horcrux. Obviously, there were a few more pieces of magic rolling across and through the tiara. Interestingly, not all the magic gave off an evil feel. Some of it felt… refreshing. For an unexplainable reason, the tiara's non-dark magic made him think of Hermione when she was sitting behind a tall stack of books in the library. There was also a thick rope of magic connecting the tiara to the floor, occasionally pulsing with dark intent (though Harry had no clue what that intent was, but it sure felt nasty).

He knew that Albus wanted to get a second Horcrux to be able to see if having more than one could help find the remaining pieces of Tom's soul. However, who knew what would happen if he tried to touch the thing? Harry had no way to safely transport the thing. And, while he knew Albus would be unhappy he had taken the risk of searching for the Horcrux alone, he would be much more unhappy if Harry took the risk of attempting to touch the probably cursed for an uncertain reward.

"Maybe we'll have better luck with the next one, Albus" Harry spoke softly as he reached to his belt.

With his new grasp of his unique magic, one of the first things he had done was apply his custom spells to his scabbard. He was now able to walk around freely with The Sword of Gryffindor, without anyone seeing it while it was in its scabbard, and it would only leave the scabbard when Harry intended for it do so. Even when Albus tried to dispel Harry's magic, the sword remained hidden and stored. The scabbard was shrunken as well, to keep it from getting in the way (though he still trained daily moving and dodging with his sword fully drawn). Albus was immensely pleased that Harry would be always armed with another weapon that would increase the odds that any surprise fight for Harry would be one-sided in Harry's favor. As such, Harry never went anywhere without his sword and wand.

As the Sword was fully unsheathed, the tiara's magic became erratic. The flow of magic became less smooth and started to spike in Harry's direction. The spikes increased in size as Harry approached. As he raised his sword to strike, a spike of magic flew out straight at Harry's face. As he automatically twisted out of the way, he wondered what that would have done to him if it had hit. Based on what happened with Albus, perhaps it was a way for the Horcrux to try to subvert his mind. He did not dwell on the thought, as he was too busy defending himself.

As he ducked and weaved past two more spikes, Harry rolled to the left and came up with his sword arm bent. With a smooth motion, he extended his arm and swung his sword horizontally. With a smile of satisfaction, he felt it hit the tiara. Looking to his right, he saw he had managed to slice off the top of the Horcrux. The basilisk venom began to work immediately, ceasing all the spikes of magic as it began firing directly at the area where the venom residue bubbled (presumably trying to defend itself from the more immediate threat).

Harry did not pause his actions as he noted what was happening. Now seeing it was safe to do so, he raised the sword and smoothly sliced down and through the center of the Horcrux. With a scream, Tom's soul piece went on to its just punishment. To be safe, Harry chopped eight more times until the screaming had full dissipated.

With a deep breath, Harry sheathed his sword and followed his trail of footprint lights to find the cabinet, leaving behind smoking pieces of scrap metal that used to be a dingy tiara containing the soul of a murderer. He would leave them behind to rot in this… whatever this place was.

The trip back was even more stressful. The cabinet's travel tunnel was exponentially more unstable, and Harry's magic just barely kept the tunnel from collapsing while he was in transit. As such, when Harry was spit violently back into Borgin And Burkes, the cabinet's magic collapsed quite dramatically. Luckily Albus was able to shield Harry from the damage of the cabinet vaporizing itself (along with a quarter of the shop).

Harry looked up at Albus, afraid to see the anger or disappointment in the man's eyes. Instead, they twinkled with amusement as the old man held out his hand to help Harry stand up.

"And you wondered if the Sorting Hat chose the right house for you. I look forward to your story, Harry. Whatever it is, I am certain your father would have been proud, as he felt any story ending with an explosion was a good one. Your mother would have been proud that you showed more skill than your father, by managing to be outside of the radius of the explosion which is a feat he never managed to accomplish."

Harry smiled in relief, as Albus looked over at Mr. Borgin.

"Balthazar, I'm sorry for the damage. If you would be so kind, send me the bill for the repairs. I will ensure you are compensated."

The man nodded numbly, as he stared at the destruction.

As they walked out of the shop, Harry whispered in a curious tone.

"Are you really going to pay for his repairs?"

Albus smiled. "It seems like the fair thing to do. Normally I would use my own funds, but in this case, after all the business he has done with Borgin And Burkes, I'm sure that Lucius would be more than happy to cover all of the expenses."

Harry simply rolled his eyes in response.

20. Chapter 20

A tired Harry trudged down the hallway of Grimmauld Place to get some much-needed lunch. The past few hours had been exhausting. Not that they had been exhausting from a magical or physical sense, but he was mentally worn out from three straight hours of being both on edge and utterly bored. Given his current mental state, he was rather unhappy with being forced back into Sirius's gloomy old childhood home.

Harry sighed.

He was being unfair. Grimmauld Place could hardly be called gloomy. With all the cleaning he had done, the place was bright and airy. The sunlight streamed in through the windows, the air was fresh, and all the dark artifacts had been moved into storage at Gringotts. Walburga's portrait was also pleasant to be around (Harry suspected that the limited consciousness of the painting had somewhat forgotten why it had decided to be nice to everyone, as it had stopped asking about when they were going to sacrifice Remus). Walburga's good mood, of course, meant that Kreacher was often in a good mood (especially after Harry had supplied the House Elf with a small and comfortable chair, in which he could sit and spend most of the day next to his beloved mistress's portrait). If it wasn't for the fact that Sirius's mood always became slightly subdued in the house, the place would be downright homey. Except, a subdued Sirius felt so unnatural that it was impossible for the house to completely lose its initial gloomy impression.

Tacked onto the slightly off vibes of the house, there was the fact that two days ago Harry had been on a beach in Hawaii mutually flirting with a very pretty muggle girl named Sarah. Honestly, the house could be the homiest home of all the homes that have ever homed, and it would still be a let down from chatting up a pretty girl in a swimsuit.

Harry's lips turned up slightly at the memory of his stay in Hawaii. There was nothing quite like relaxing on a beach after a hard morning of training. It was both relaxing and allowed him the opportunity to expand his skills in the field of flirting. He had initially been very tentative when it came to talking to members of the opposite sex. Sirius had taken it on as his duty to train Harry in all the things dating-related, and while the man was enthusiastic, he was not a very good teacher (or very good at the activity itself). Albus and Remus were of even less help in teaching Harry how to not be incredibly awkward around pretty girls.

Surprisingly (or retrospectively unsurprisingly), it was Gilderoy who became Harry's best tutor in the art of flirting. Say what you will about the man, when he wasn't being forced to back up his boasts with proof, he was downright charming. While the man wrote voluminous letters about the art of charming others (and was currently contemplating the best way to monetize his volumes of advice), it had mainly boiled down to two main takeaways for Harry. The first was that people respond well to confidence, so pretend to be confident until you really become confident.

The second takeaway went against Sirius's teachings. Sirius apparently based his teachings on his understanding of Harry's father's technique. That being, once you decide who you want to be with, pursue them doggedly no matter how much the person displays their disinterest. Harry suspected (or at least hoped) that Sirius didn't fully understand the courtship between his mum and dad.

Gilderoy's advice was that there was no point in flirting with someone who didn't respond positively to one's advances. While it was true that you had to prove that you were worth talking to and pursuing, it was equally true that the object of your affection had to prove that they were worth pursuing as well. As Gilderoy said, "if they aren't smart enough to see how amazing you are, then they aren't smart enough to be worth pursuing". Harry could easily see how the advice could be used to play games with people, but by itself it was a great mindset that took off all the pressure and transformed his approach from walking into a high stakes job interview into simply having a fun conversation between equals. He had yet to stay in a place long enough to bother with pursuing a date, but the flirting with various girls had been innocent fun, and he did have Sarah's phone number if he ever found himself in Duluth (which is where her family was visiting from… wherever that was).

As Harry's mind wandered back to Hawaii and swimming in the warm ocean with the pretty Sarah, he was understandably distracted and only vaguely recognized that the kitchen was pitch black. Because of this distraction, it took several seconds before his conscious mind caught up with his actions.

As he stepped into the pitch-black kitchen, he detected a burst of magic. From a full year of intense training, his finely honed battle instincts took complete control. They instantly noted that the magic had the same tinge as the various spells he had trained against that caused overloading of the senses. It was also a general area spell, rather than a directed spell. As such, he was clearly being attacked by an unknown enemy that wished to disorient him first.

With practiced ease, he dropped down to the floor at the appropriate angle to perform a tight roll to the left to get himself to the nearest wall. As he dropped down, he cast the appropriate magic which would slightly deaden his senses (it was like putting on sunglasses, but for all five senses). As he entered his roll, his wand slipped into his right hand as a bright light and loud sound filled the room (his protection kept him from being disoriented and he could see the dim shadows of many people standing in the room). When he reached the wall, he slammed his hand against the ground and immediately pumped his magic through his hand and began to transfigure the floor into a protective stone wall.

His conscious mind regained control as the bright light and loud sound faded, with his wall built up to only cover half of his crouching height. He quickly tapped his head with his wand to disillusion himself as the wall continued to build in width and height. He thought about teleporting out of the room, but he didn't know if Albus, Sirius, Remus, and Dobby were safe. He would not abandon them if he could help it.

The last of the light and sound faded as the wall completed its construction to totally hide his crouching disillusioned body (it would hopefully provide enough of a shield from a barrage of magic to give him the time to run if needed). He dispelled the magic that was deadening his senses, tensely awaiting the next move from the attackers. He detected another burst of magic, while he heard the attackers all shout the start of a spell in unison. The spell name started with a "S" sound (his training instantly supplying half a dozen harmful spells that they could be using).

So, this was a coordinated attack, which meant that his wall would not last long in this fight. Albus had trained Harry for cases of taking on overwhelming numbers like this and had even created a spell to take advantage of large groups shouting a spell in unison (the man was a wonderful combination of brilliant and paranoid at times). Harry pointed his wand at the shouting crowd while he wordlessly cast Albus's spell, ensuring he empowered the spell to account for the number of targets.

The spell was like a normal stunning spell, except it would split up and home in on all loud sources of sound. In this case, the spell split up and immediately zoomed towards the mouth of each attacker. This would hopefully thin the numbers enough to give Harry the time to find his family and either finish the enemy or escape.

Sadly, his plan did not come to fruition. He felt his heart sink as he felt his spell slam into a wall of shielding magic. That had apparently been the second burst of magic he had felt. That meant that this was a well thought out attack where they were prepared for him, and Harry's odds of successfully fending off the attackers with stunners and shields was now dropping precipitously. His training told him that his choices were narrowing quickly to either escaping or transitioning to attacks that were more likely to maim or kill. In preparation, he put his hand against his stone wall and prepared his magic to pulse out to cause it to shatter and turn into a wall of flying stone shrapnel.

It was at this point that the attackers completed their curse with a loud "RISE" (what spell was that?). Harry braced himself, but he detected no magic. What was happening?

The lights turned on in the kitchen, as Harry braced for the next attack. His mind rolled the shouted spell over in his mind. What spell started with a S and ended with a RISE? S… RISE… S… RISE… What could it be? What could… wait!

Harry blinked as he remembered the current day. With great caution, he peaked over the top of his wall to look at the now visible crowd of people in the kitchen. Once he saw them, he silently groaned.

His family was safe, as they were standing amongst the "attackers". The attackers consisting of Hermione and her parents, the Weasleys, Pierre (who Harry hadn't seen since he had stayed at the man's house in France), an odd-looking blonde father and daughter pair (the girl had earrings made of turnips), Gilderoy, Horace Slughorn, and Marcus's family (though he didn't see Marcus). Behind them was a giant cake sitting on a table that Harry suspected had been strengthened to handle the immense weight of said cake. Above them was a banner that read "Happy Birthday Harry".

Harry looked to his right. There was Albus, pointing his wand at the crowd as he maintained the shield to protect them from Harry.

Albus looked down in the direction of Harry's disillusioned form and spoke with evident amusement in his voice. "Is it safe for your friends for me to stop shielding them, Harry?"

With a huff, Harry cancelled his disillusionment (while still ducking behind the wall, as Albus's training still had him trying to keep as many of his abilities a surprise as possible). He then pointed his wand at the wall (to hide the extent of his wandless abilities) as he mentally cancelled the transfiguration magic to return it back into a wooden floor.

He stood and waved awkwardly at the visitors before turning a mild glare on Albus. "You couldn't have warned me?"

Albus smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Sirius insisted. I did tell him that it was bad idea though. Remus also warned Sirius, though I doubt he expected your reaction to be so… effective."

Harry looked over and saw both Remus and Sirius's eyes were wide in shock. The other guests were also in various states of shock and surprise.

A young voice piped up from the far corner of the room. "I also told them it was a bad idea, Harry! It's why I asked Dobby to make me a place to hide."

Harry smiled broadly as Marcus and Dobby emerged from behind a small stone enclosure of their own in one corner of the kitchen. They had apparently been hiding since before Harry walked in.

"That's because you and Dobby are the two smartest people in the house."

Between the child and the house elf, in response to Harry's words, it was hard to say which one beamed the brightest.

The party was a lot of fun. As he laid in bed that night, Harry marveled at how the year apart from his friends had helped to heal the rifts that had been formed in his second year. While his conversation with Ron was still a bit awkward, it was pleasant. A year ago, seeing anyone from Hogwarts would have made for a distinctly unenjoyable party, but distance, time, and perspective were truly great healers.

The presents were fun to go through.

From the Weasleys, he received a book on Incan wards (thanks to Bill). Hermione stared at the book enviously, but surprisingly did not try to borrow the book for the rest of the party.

From Hermione, he received a quidditch model set. It would allow Harry to use his wand to direct a quidditch game above a game board, roughly the same size as a chess board. It required an opponent to play the opposing team. She told him that she had noticed how in his letters he rarely mentioned flying his broom, so she thought he might be missing the game. Harry felt touched by the gift.

Sirius and Remus had managed to track down some of his mum's old friends and compiled a book of stories all about her. These being stories that they hadn't even been aware of.

The gift from Albus was a month-long trip seeking mythical beasts with the owner of the Quibbler, which Harry was very excited to begin in the coming days.

The most impressive gift came from Marcus. It was a book that the boy had written himself, compiling all his thoughts on how to learn about the field of Potions more efficiently. Of course, the only people who didn't think it was just a "cute" present were Harry, Albus, Sirius, Remus, and Marcus's family. No one outside of that group was aware of the fact that Marcus had recently begun corresponding with Albus to start exploring the field of Alchemy. Harry knew that Marcus's book was likely to become the most valuable book he owned.

As he lay on his bed, his body stuffed with an excessive amount of cake, he recalled some of his conversations from the party.

"What's this?" Harry asked Albus, as the man handed him a letter.

"It's a letter from your cousin Dudley. I thought you might find it interesting."

Harry looked at the letter dubiously. When he opened it, he was surprised to see the writing was legible, as Dudley's handwriting had always been… well dodgy was the kindest way of putting it. This handwriting, while still in need of improvement, was leagues ahead of the Dudley's old chicken scratch.

"Dear Harry,

I hope this letter finally gets to you. The last few I sent kept on being returned. Mum finally told me how she was able to send a letter to your school, so I hope they'll pass this on to you.

First, can you get your teacher, Mister Dumpledoor, to pick up his screaming book? I've learned my lesson, alright? I'm eating right. I'm exercising. I'm studying. And I'm not bullying anyone. Please, get him to take the book away!

Second, I'm sorry! After being bullied by a book for a year, I can see how you must have felt. I was a right prat, and I know that now. I'm sorry for bullying you all those years. I really do mean that. So, PLEASE get this book away from me!

Sincerely,

Dudley"

Harry frowned as he finished reading the letter. He looked down at an included picture of a skinny Dudley. He then looked up at Albus in confusion.

"What book?"

Albus's eyes twinkled. "It's called The Screaming Book of Good Behavior. It's designed to act as a sort of study aid for recalcitrant students. It bonds to a student and then follows them everywhere they go, where only the student can hear and see the book, unless a person has magic and knows to look for the book. Whenever it observes the student performing bad behavior, it screams until the student starts doing something considered to be good."

Harry smirked slightly. While he felt a bit bad about Dudley being tormented by a screaming book, he didn't feel THAT bad. "And you gave him that book?"

Albus shrugged. "Not intentionally. It was a joke book meant for you. My father gave it to me when I started Hogwarts, and I thought you might find it humorous for a few days. I honestly thought I had lost it. After reading Dudley's letter and thinking about it, I finally remembered it escaping when we visited the Dursley household. Sadly, at the time, I did not consciously notice it hurrying up the stairs. Worry not, I have already retrieved the book and reset it to no longer be bonded to your cousin."

Harry looked back down at the letter and attached photograph. He couldn't help but smile.

"Hello George… Fred… Hermione" Harry spoke, making sure to look at the correct twin as he spoke their respective names.

"Nice try, Harrikins" spoke Fred, "but I'm George. That is Fred."

"I thought I was George!"

"No, I'm George, you're Gred!"

"Are you sure, I thought You were Forge, that was Geormione, and I was Hed."

Harry smiled as Hermione jumped into the fray, and the three argued for several minutes as they mangled their names further. He had not seen Hermione so relaxed since… he was not sure he had ever seen Hermione relaxed. Apparently, a great way of loosening up was using a dung bomb to befoul school property to the point of having to discard of said property. After that day, she had truly embraced her role as a prankster and was considered an honorary Weasley Twin.

After his conversation wrapped up with the trio, with Hermione giving a tentative hug, and Harry ensuring he spoke the correct name to each twin (causing the muscle to twitch under George's left eye), Mrs. Weasley walked over.

"Harry Dear" she said softly. "I know that Albus told you some of the tricks for telling the boys apart. But please try to let them believe they can still fool you on occasion."

Harry looked at the woman in surprise. "You know how to tell them apart?"

She smiled warmly. "I raised them. I was there every step of the way as they slowly learned how to lie convincingly. I know my children, Harry."

"But… when I first met you in the station, you got the two of them confused…"

"Their game is harmless fun, and it makes them happy to think they fooled their mother. It's always nice to see them off to school with a smile on their faces. Besides, they have their father's sense of humor, and it is wonderful to see them as miniature Arthurs."

Harry's voice grew confused. "They have Mr. Weasley's sense of humor?"

Mrs. Weasley's face took on an incredibly fond smile. "Ah yes. That man… his pranks are subtler, but he still finds great joy in them. Surely you noticed his prank on you with your stay at our home?"

"What prank?"

Her eyebrows rose in surprise as she responded. "The rubber duck? Oh dear, I thought you were just playing along. Harry, dear, Arthur spends most of his days working in the muggle world. He has taken apart, modified, and rebuilt a car. Even without all of that, it is hardly difficult to discern that a rubber duck is a child's bath toy."

"Wait… so, Mr. Weasley was just…"

Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Some people like to pretend they are more drunk than they really are. Arthur likes to play up the role of a stereotypical Pureblood Wizard when he meets the muggle-raised friends of his children. He thinks it is quite funny to see how far he can push the prank before the children catch on. He was certain the rubber duck joke gave it all away, as he was quite tired when he met you. Oh… please don't tell him I gave away his little game."

Harry smiled. "I'll keep it between the two of us. It's nice to hear he doesn't really collect plugs or anything like that."

The woman grimaced slightly. "No… that's real. He finds them fascinating. Something about how some countries have different plugs and… honestly, I'm happy he finds it so exciting, but… well, that wasn't the reason I came over. Though, I now suspect I will soon have to go and warn Hermione's parents about Arthur's sense of humor. I wanted to thank you for helping my dear Percy."

"Oh?"

"He met Barty Crouch Sr when he was a boy, and absolutely idolized the man as the perfect example of a Ministry worker. After learning about what that man did to poor Sirius, which led to that horrid man pretending to be Percy's pet rat… Percy was left questioning his commitment to a career in the Ministry. And then you got him his job with THE Gilderoy Lockhart, and it warms my heart to see him so excited. And, of course, knowing that he will be safe around such an accomplished wizard."

Harry barely held back rolling his eyes at that last comment. "It wasn't much, Mrs. Weasley. Gilderoy was looking for a new assistant to track all of the… highly specific desires of his clients. I told him that I knew Percy was finishing his last year at Hogwarts, was one of the most detail-oriented people I knew, and that he was… um… very enthusiastic in his goal to please his superiors. At best, I got Gilderoy to give him a shot at an interview. It was Percy who took the Quaffle and flew with it."

"Still, I don't know if he would have been passed up for the interview as being too young if it wasn't for your kind words. You are a good young man, a bit more… free with your spells outside of school then I care to see, but its nice to know that Albus is making sure you can protect yourself. Thank you, Harry Dear and… oh… Arthur has trapped the Grangers in a conversation. I better go rescue them. Excuse me Harry, dear. That man… I swear if he didn't have such a…"

Mrs. Weasley began to mumble to herself as she walked away. Harry firmly decided to assume he misheard the end of the woman's mumbling. He really didn't want to have heard the woman, regardless of her talking about her husband, say the words "… cute bum".

As Harry began to drift off, his memories of the conversations began to lose their distinctness.

He recalled spending fifteen minutes with Gilderoy and Horace, as they discussed selling off slices of magically preserved "Harry Potter's Birthday Cake" to fans across the globe. There was certainly more than enough of the behemoth to make that happen. Harry made sure that the proceeds would go to charities designed to help children in need, located in the home country of the… sigh… fans buying the cake slices. Luckily, the conversation ended when Horace broached the topic of changing how much money they got from the services they provided for Harry, as Gilderoy certainly didn't want to have any of THAT dirty laundry aired.

Luckily, Rita had not attended the party. Something about her not wanting to be tempted by that much potential gossip. Still, Harry was pleased (and a bit disturbed) to receive the news that Gilderoy and Rita were now engaged to be married. He and Albus would receive their invitations when the couple chose a date and venue for their ceremony.

He also had a fun conversation with the Lovegoods (the girl with turnip earrings was apparently Ginny's friend, and was named Luna). They had a wonderful conversation about what animals they would be seeking on their upcoming trip, which made Harry very excited. They were definitely an eccentric family. Eccentric, but very sweet.

He, of course, spent quite a bit of time with the Smythe family. Harry was now considered to be Marcus's honorary older brother. Terrence, Marcus's real older brother who would be going into his seventh year, had initially been rather jealous when he saw how much Marcus worshipped Harry. Luckily, the older boy had decided that he would simply outdo Harry and made sure he doubled the letter writing rate that Harry achieved. Marcus was thrilled to receive the extra attention, so it was a win for all the Smythe family. Other than the pleasant conversation, the only thing of note was that Terrence (who was in Ravenclaw) was surprised Harry was friends with Luna Lovegood, and he promised that he would watch after the girl and he would do his best to make sure that his housemates would treat her with respect and kindness from now on. Harry didn't like the implications of that promise, but he appreciated that any past bad behavior would be brought to an end.

The last memory that came to mind was a question from Hermione.

"Harry… from what little I saw of you before your… impressive response to the surprise party… you seemed worn out. Did Professor Dumbledore force you to train this morning, despite it being your birthday?"

Harry paused. "Well…"

Harry was on edge and extremely bored. He could not wait until he was done with this task and could have some lunch.

"This is not how I suspected I would be spending my morning" he grumbled.

A soft chuckle emanated from next to his right ear. "I would be highly impressed if you had predicted being in this situation."

The situation, in this case, being Harry floating invisibly through a complex series of caves with one Albus Dumbledore magically sticking to his back.

"It looks like we will want to be taking the 2nd entrance on the left. Ensure you avoid the waterfall there. That is called Thief's Downfall, and I am unsure what effect it will have on your magic. Best to keep the wide berth from the tracks you have been maintaining."

It should be noted that this specific set of caves happened to be directly under the London branch of Gringotts bank and contained all their vaults.

As Harry ensured he continued to avoid the track and the upcoming waterfall, he continued to grumble softly. "I was at Gringotts this morning, Harry, he says. It looks like there is a horcrux there, he says. Let's rob Gringotts and then get some lunch, he says. Seriously Albus, don't you think we should have spent a little bit of time to devise a plan?"

"Why would we need to spend time to devise a plan for something so straightforward?"

Harry scoffed as he continued float them deeper into the cave system. "Because… this… is… Gringotts! It is one of the most secure location on the planet."

Harry suspected Albus had cast some magic to keep himself decently calm, as he was certain he felt the man shake some and was about to begin a full-bodied belly laugh. It instead turned into a very amused chuckle.

"Yes, and Gilderoy Lockhart is known as one of the most impressive fighters of the Dark the world has ever seen. Reputations can sometimes be a bit exaggerated for the sake of profit. Even without my discovery that your Hyper Jump bypasses their protections, it is not that difficult to break into the bank. Quirinus Quirrell was hardly a powerful wizard, and yet he still successfully robbed the vault containing the Stone. We were lucky the vault was empty, but it doesn't change the fact that he bypassed security, entered the vault, and left the bank without being caught. Begin heading straight down please."

Harry couldn't deny that statement, as he floated the pair downwards. "Well, if they are that bad at protecting these vaults, then why do people use them?"

"I wouldn't go so far as to say that they are bad at protecting the vaults. Quirinus did have Tom's input in how to proceed, and even as a shade he is a brilliant wizard. The key point is in the method the vaults are protected. The weakest layer of security is protecting the entrance to the caves. While they can detect invisibility and subterfuge to a degree, they can't be too aggressive as they regularly need to let customers down to the vaults entrance. The next layer of security is the layout of the caves. They intentionally make their carts too fast and the routes too complicated, to make it harder for potential thieves to find a specific vault to pillage. Luckily, your brand of flying is different from brooms and other known variants, so the wards are unable to detect nor negate your magic usage. Additionally, with the connection between horcruxes, I can use that to direct us to our destination which bypasses the security layer of obfuscation through complexity. Without the locket as a guide, it could easily take weeks or months to find our desired vault, which assumes we would know which value we should desire. Go back up and then go down the hole to the left."

Harry complied as he nodded to Albus's explanation. "And I guess they have other protections along the tracks like that waterfall, in addition to making it too difficult to navigate the caves. Since most people would have to use the tracks, that would be good protection. What about the vaults?"

"Each vault has a distinct set of wards and protections applied to it. As far as I have seen, no two vaults have the same protections. As such, being able to break into one vault without setting off the alarms does not mean you can break into any other vault. Even their expert curse breakers would need at least a few hours to break into their simpler vaults, and days for the complex vaults. Things get worse if you have a trusted employee open the vault, as the wards become active and will detect if anything is removed from the vault. Try not to disturb the dragon."

Harry looked down and saw a huge pale dragon rapidly approaching below them. The last dragon he had encountered was a baby, and he was now glad he had never met Norbert's parents. He was about to ask what they were going to do about the creature when he felt Albus pull something out of his robes and then point his wand near the dragon.

In front of the dragon's mouth was suddenly a very confused cow. Just as suddenly, the dragon's jaws snapped around the cow and gulped it down quickly. Within seconds, the dragon's eyelids drooped, its head laid down, and soon began to snore deeply.

"Nicholas and I developed a sleeping potion that would work on dragons, as they are usually too resistant to the normal variant of sleeping potion. It was the only way to safely get the blood we needed to study fresh blood and discover the myriad uses of which my Chocolate Frog Card claims I am so renown."

Harry nodded in understanding as they landed gently on the ground. Once disengaged from Harry's back, Albus walked directly to one of the vaults.

"Whose vault is this?"

Albus shrugged. "It like belongs to one of Tom's lieutenants. Although, it could be someone he forced into storing his horcrux. Perhaps he snuck in and placed it here without the knowledge of the owner. We might find out inside the vault, though I doubt it. Please hold still while I adjust our magic, so we are ignored by the protective spells."

Harry stood still as felt Albus's hand rest on his shoulder. After all his training, he felt the transitions of his magic much more intensely then when they had invaded Malfoy Manor. Although that might be attributed to the speed of the transitions. With the Malfoys, Albus was performing an educational exercise, but here it was a means to an end. Harry watched as the magic of the protections synched up with his own magic, the different colors quickly dropping away.

After 30 seconds, Albus started to step forward. Harry walked alongside his mentor as the two walked through the vault door as if it were smoke. With his hand still on Harry's shoulder, Albus raised his wand and an ornate metal cup floated towards them as the older man then began stripping various protection magics off of the horcrux.

Harry sighed. "I'm happy that this is going so smoothly, but I somewhat wish it was more exciting."

Albus smirked. "I'm sure you will have plenty of excitement in your life, Harry. You should just be grateful that we have the ability to seek out Tom's horcruxes at our leisure. Imagine if we were doing this during a state of active war."

"I suppose. And flying through Gringotts on my own will make a good story someday… if I could ever tell someone… Hey Albus…"

As the last of the protections came off the cup, Albus slipped the horcrux into a pouch designed to safely store it. He looked down at Harry with a questioning raising of his eyebrow.

"I think I would have preferred it if you had kidnapped me from the Dursleys long ago."

Albus smiled broadly. "I think I would have preferred that as well, my boy."

"Also, you could have started teaching me all of this cool magic much earlier. Which would have been awesome!"

Albus chuckled. "I'm afraid that would have been out of the question."

"Because I was too young?"

"Somewhat… though it is mainly because it took you several months to manage to cast your brand of magic without risking your magic destabilizing and causing you to explode, liquify, or both. The horcrux in your scar, which I initially could only deduce was chaotic magic, caused you to be constantly adjusting your magic to keep some semblance of stability to cast spells in the normal fashion. While the chaotic magic remained, I was predicting you would need a few decades of spell casting under your belt before you could somewhat safely start down the path of finding your own brand of magic. I was very pleased when I saw the day in the Goblin village that your magic was hundreds of times more stable than before."

Harry grimaced at the mental image of people attending his funereal, with his remains sloshing in a metal bucket.

"I really hate Tom and his horcruxes."

Albus nodded solemnly. "That is quite the bold stance to take."

Harry laughed silently.

With that, Albus performed a Hyper Jump and they found themselves in the entrance hallway of Grimmauld Place. Albus excused himself to make them some lunch in the kitchen. Harry didn't notice the man drawing his wand as he quickly made his way to the kitchen.

A tired Harry trudged down the hallway of Grimmauld Place to get some much-needed lunch.

"Well…" Harry said in response to Hermione's question.

"… even if it is my birthday, when he wants me to do something, I guess you could say that Albus… just won't get off my back."

Arthur and the twins weren't the only ones willing to tell joke only they got.

21. Chapter 21

"You know, Albus" Harry grumbled, "I thought that seeking out exotic creatures in New Zealand would be a bit more interesting than this."

A chuckle emanated from Harry's lap. Looking down, he saw Albus's face shining with mirth from the small mirror, as the man responded.

"I promise there is far more to this expedition than tracking down some harmless creatures, Harry. Knowing Xenophilius, we will likely be climbing mountains or slogging through swamps within the next week. The man has an uncanny knack for finding the most skittish of animals."

Harry sighed. "So you've said, but… how much longer do we have to wait for this Blibbering thing?"

"Blibbering Sockhoarder, and it shouldn't be more than another couple of hours. And they will come out quicker if you stay quiet. Perhaps some light meditation can alleviate your boredom. Once captured, we can move on to the more exciting leg of this journey."

Harry rolled his eyes, specifically exaggerating the roll to ensure it could be clearly seen through the mirror, as Albus was in another building awaiting the appearance of the little creature.

Of course, the fact that Harry was in a building was part of the problem. If he had been sitting in some forest or meadow, or anywhere outside, it wouldn't feel as boring. Instead, for the past three hours he had been sitting in the laundry room of some random house in a muggle neighborhood. According to Mr. Lovegood, there was overwhelming evidence that a small infestation of Blibbering Sockhoarders had sprung up in the neighborhood, and they needed to be relocated to a magical reserve.

The creatures were said (by Mr. Lovegood) to be harmless purplish squirrel-like animals that loved to steal small articles of clothing which they then used as fashionable sweaters to attract mates. They had a strong preference for warm socks, hence their name, so they had grown to love muggle dryers. They had the capability to teleporting small distances, which allowed them to quickly enter a dryer while it was running to steal a sock and then teleport out.

Mr. Lovegood had explained that the creatures were perfectly harmless, and their sock obsession made them relatively simple to track. While most socks lost in the world were mainly the result of common non-magical carelessness, an infestation of Sockhoarders would increase the number of "the dryer ate my sock" jokes told in specific neighborhoods to a statistically unlikely degree. As such, Harry sat by himself in a laundry room one of the four houses spread out across the neighborhood, each of the houses be the source of the highest number of "lost sock" jokes being told, where Luna, Mr. Lovegood, and Albus sat within each of the three other houses.

While getting the creatures relocated would remove a slight annoyance for the muggles, it was apparently more for the Sockhoarders benefit. According to Albus, the creatures gave off the same magical field as the Snorkack, which made them invisible to those who didn't believe in them (which is why Sirius and Remus had stayed at their campsite, due to Remus's steadfastly believing the whole day was a poorly executed prank). The creatures' presence wasn't at risk of exposing magic by themselves. However, they could possibly attract more aggressive animals. The more aggressive creatures would in turn attract even more creatures. That would eventually lead to a large enough population of magical creatures making the neighborhood their home where exposure could become a true risk. Sadly, for the Sockhoarders, by the time magic became exposed, they would likely have all been eaten by the more aggressive creatures (the Sockhoarders were apparently extremely peaceful and wouldn't even attempt to fight back if attacked).

So, Harry sat staring at a dryer as it dried a load of socks… again… for the fifth time. He focused on mediating as he waited for a creature to appear that would likely never… wait, what was that?

Harry leaned forward slightly as he saw some movement from behind the dryer. Had he really seen something? Nah, probably not, it was probably noth… no! He knew he saw… something… yes, he had seen something! Definitely! Right? Maybe? He blinked hard as he felt his mind clear from the magic affecting him. Aha! He was right. There was something there. Though, it didn't look like a purplish squirrel.

"Albus" Harry whispered.

"Yes?" the man whispered back.

"Do the Sockhoarders come in different colors?"

"Certainly, though purple is its most common hue."

"Ah, good. Then I have found our Blibbering Sockhoarder. Though, Mr. Lovegood needs to learn what a squirrel looks like. While still adorable, there is a difference between a squirrel and a bunny. The streaks of green in its fur do look cool though."

There was a pregnant pause as Albus remained silent for a beat longer than expected. When he spoke, he had a tone of nervousness.

"Harry, please show me the creature."

Harry's brow furrowed in confused concern as he turned the mirror to look at the cute little bunny-like creature. It was making small hops as it circled the dryer, sniffing at the floor and the dryer's sides. When it got to the very front of the machine, it stopped and stared at the machine's door. It then began to scratch its ear in an adorable fashion, and then thumped its foot in excitement.

An openly nervous Albus spoke in an urgent, nearly inaudible voice. "Harry, Jump out of there. Now!"

Harry hesitated for a moment, but only a moment. Albus wouldn't give that order if it wasn't urgent. With a flex of his magic, he felt the expected energy field forming around him and with another flex… nothing! The magic fizzled around him, and he remained in the same spot. The bunny stopped thumping the floor. With a sense of confusion, Harry tried to Hyper Jump again, with the same results. The bunny began to snuffle. An attempt at apparating failed in the same way. The bunny's ears began to twitch.

Harry looked down while turning the mirror back to look at Albus. There was his mentor's face, but it was filled with a terror he had never seen before. And, judging by the movement behind Albus, the older man seemed to be running. Harry figured the man was probably levitating the mirror in front of him so he could watch the mirror while making his dash.

With increasing nervousness, Harry silently spoke with great urgency. "Albus, I can't Jump out. I also can't Apparate. What is going on?"

In a voice that must have been magically forced to be barely audible, as Albus was clearly shouting, he responded. "Back out of there slowly, Harry. Before it sees you. Just don't…"

A hissing sound distracted Harry from what Albus's warning. Looking away from the mirror, Harry looked up to see the bunny on its four legs as it hissed loudly. It was still looking at the dryer door, looking left and right, while its green streaks of fur began to pulse with an internal light that turned the streaks into a poisonous neon green. Harry began to back up slowly to the laundry room door, his eyes locked on the bunny while Albus's panicked words blurred indistinctly in the background of his consciousness.

The bunny stilled unnaturally. Harry inched backwards. The bunny's head began to turn to the left. Harry inched closer to the door. The bunny's head continued to turn. Harry inched quicker. The bunny's head finished turning, a full 180 degrees to stare directly at Harry. Harry looked into the creature's eyes. The bunny opened its mouth wide. Harry paled.

The bunny's mouth opened impossibly wide, revealing multiple rows of razor-sharp teeth that should not be able to fit inside its mouth. From where one would expect a tongue, there were three wriggling tentacles, each ending in another smaller mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. Each tentacle was wriggling pointedly at Harry.

The "bunny" then screeched. A screech that felt like it vibrated every cell of Harry's body. A distant part of Harry's mind noted a frightened squeak coming from the dryer, along with a terrified Albus shouting for Harry to run. The overwhelming part of Harry's mind was focused on the nightmare creature's legs tensing.

"Oh shi…"

It pounced!

Dear lord, did it pounce!

If it wasn't for his background in Quidditch and all the training with Albus, there was no way he would have had a chance of dodging. Even then, highly honed as they might be, his dodging skills were going to be plainly insufficient to see him walking away from this attack unscathed. Luckily, Albus had trained Harry's magical instincts to work in conjunction with his non-magical instincts. As such, instead of the leap to the left that he was expecting, his magic levitated him and pulled him rapidly to the left wall.

Not allowing himself to be overwhelmed by his surprised state, Harry had his wand pulled out as his feet touched the wall. Standing parallel to the floor, he cast his strongest stunner at the monster as it slammed into the drywall. The spell flew true and hit the center of mass of the creature as its claws dug into the wall, letting it also give the appearance of standing on the wall. The red light of the spell splashed ineffectively against the creature's fur, resulting in only a louder screech as it leapt through the air towards Harry. The jaws of tentacles all snapping viciously.

Frantically, Harry magically summoned himself to the ceiling. No sooner had he touched the ceiling, then the demon bunny had hit Harry's previous spot, its tentacles ripping out a huge junk of the wall. It immediately rebounded up towards the ceiling, leaving Harry no time to cast a spell. He kicked upwards, towards the floor. Thankfully, the flip he performed twisted his body out of the way, as one the mouths came within millimeters of his throat. Not waiting for his feet to touch the floor, he summoned himself to the farthest wall. As he flew towards the wall, he aimed his wand again and cast a cutting spell at the creature as it bounded towards the floor. The spell was set to intersect with the rabbit's expected landing spot. Harry was somewhat sorry to kill the creature, but relieved that the fight would soon be over. Instead, one of its mouth tentacles swung out and batted the spell away, reflecting it towards the washing machine. The spell bisected the appliance cleanly, along with digging into the wall and pipes behind it. Water began to spray into the room, drenching the menacing monster. The water that hit immediately turned to steam, which oddly did not inspire any sense of comfort in Harry.

The, whatever it was, looked at Harry for a moment. Its eyes glowed a deadly green, and then that precious moment of respite was over.

The next five minutes felt like five hours. There was not a single spell Harry had cast that had any effect, aside from causing more damage to the house. On several occasions he had tried to escape the room, but something about the creature caused that to be impossible. Harry had long since blasted the door into bits and filled the walls with holes that he could easily fit through. The window had been completely atomized. Covering every possible exit was an energy field that might as well have been made of steel. The first time he encountered the field, he had only just barely managed to avoid getting knocked out so that he could continue his frantic attempts to fight or flee.

While Harry was covered in knicks and scrapes from the shrapnel of the exploding wood, drywall, and pipes, he had so far had not been bit. He didn't know if the creature was venomous, but he didn't want to risk it. He just hoped the evil being was not immune to basilisk venom.

Two minutes ago, he had given up using his wand and unsheathed his sword. By that point, Harry's magic was working on pure unthinking instinct as it yanked him randomly around the room, without any discernable pattern. The creature meanwhile was shooting its mouth tentacles at various surfaces to swing its body around and change its own mid-air trajectory. One minute ago, with more luck than skill, one of Harry's twists managed to put his sword in such a position that it sliced through a tentacle. He had a moment to enjoy the hiss of pain from the monster before it pounced again and slammed its body into the flat side of the sword. With horror, Harry felt the handle ripped from his hand and the sword went flying through the energy field of the doorway. Because, of course, inanimate objects could pass through the field, just not Harry.

It did seem that the basilisk venom may be having some effect, as the creature's pounces were becoming slightly less powerful. Sadly, they had only shifted from terrifyingly powerful to just frighteningly powerful. And, especially after bashing his head against a broken plank of wood hanging from the ceiling, Harry could feel himself slowing down even more rapidly than the bunny of death. Worse yet, his instincts seemed to be getting a bit muddled from the head trauma. On several occasions, it would jerk him slightly in the direction of the monster. He wasn't sure if he could last much longer at this pace.

"HARRY!"

Harry jerked his head as he heard Albus yell his name. His magic responded to his confusion and redirected attention by tearing him through the air at an immense speed, right at the energy barrier that covered the doorway. His body slammed into the barrier with a thud, as he felt his nose crunch painfully. He was certain that both it and his jaw were now broken.

His survival instincts forced him to turn around to face his attacker, which he managed to do. But his body and magic refused to do anything beyond that. His vision swam with dark spots as he tried to move without success. The creature screeched what Harry assumed was a victory cry as it pounced from the other side of the room, aimed directly at Harry's throat.

Harry felt a breeze brush past his cheek. And then he felt the beast impact against the exposed flesh of his neck.

Rather, he felt chunks of the beast impact again his throat, along with the feeling of having a water balloon full of blood break open against his face.

It wouldn't be until that night, as he reveled in the comfort of his bed and listened to the deep breaths of a large black dog acting as his pillow, that Harry would finally be able to slow down his memory of those final moments enough to see what had happened.

He returned to the moment he felt the breeze brush past his cheek. His memory slowed down that moment to a crawl and he could see a mesh of razor-sharp crisscrossing thin wires (that Albus had transfigured on the spot) flying past his face. He could see the wire impacting against the terrifying face of the Screeching Fleshrender (Albus told him the name of the nightmare beast). The wire mesh passed through the Fleshrender's face, tentacles, and body as if it they were… well, a hot knife through butter still encounters some resistance. The mesh might as well have been flying through empty space as it cubed the Fleshrender into a slurry of meat and blood, and then continued flying as it dug through the wood of the floor and through the cement slab under that floor. Harry had no idea how far it traveled through the earth beneath the cement slab before coming to a stop. But, based on how much power Albus had clearly pumped into his spell, he suspected it took quick some time before the mesh came to its final resting point. Harry stopped recalling the moment once he saw the Fleshrender separating into chunks ready to give Harry the world's most unpleasant spray of confetti.

The moments between his rescue and resting against his godfather's dog form were… well, he would work through clarifying those memories later.

He only had two distinct (well… less vague) memories from that intervening period.

The first memory was from a few minutes after being rescued. Albus had explained (after performing some initial healing, and while magically fixing the damage caused to the house, while noting what items the magical authorities would have to replace) that the Screeching Fleshrender was a rare creature, but it was known as one of the predators that was attracted by large infestations of Blibbering Sockhoarders. Speaking of the Sockhoarders, one of them was found cowering in the dryer, looking like a terrified purple squirrel, that had immediately sought safety in Albus's beard along with its stolen white gym sock it had chewed down to fit like a sweater. Back on the topic of the demon rabbits, Harry had been fighting against a female Fleshrender, and luckily (for certain definitions of the word "luck") she had not shown signs of having ever given birth, so that meant there was at most one more Fleshrender in the neighborhood. They were an aggressively territorial animal, and the female would only allow one male within her expansive territory (at least 20 kilometers in radius).

Harry's mind overrode his pain and his exhaustion at this revelation. "There could be one more?"

Albus nodded. "Yes, but worry not, Harry, it…"

"NO!" shouted Harry, as he ignored his body's numerous protests. With boost of adrenaline and a slightly healed body, he ran out the door (luckily Albus had already arranged with the local magical authorities to keep the neighborhood empty for the day). "LUNA!"

It was 15 minutes or so later when Harry burst into the laundry room Luna was staking out. His fear of the second Fleshrender being there had proven valid. There was Luna. There was the Fleshrender… being cuddled and stroked by a blissful Luna, purring in joy as its tentacles rubbed against her face affectionately (the purring coming from both Luna and the creature). At that point, with his adrenaline levels crashing, Harry's memories became too blurry. Although, he did remember Albus talking about Luna's very different experience with the bunnies of doom.

Albus had multiple theories as to how Luna pulled off her incredible feat. Perhaps the Lovegood line is just naturally attuned to the creatures that require belief to be seen, much like a Seer for mythical animals. Perhaps the Lovegoods' overabundance of belief in the creatures overwhelmed their magic to the point of confusing their instincts. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps… Harry preferred Albus's final explanation given with a shrug. "I don't know, Harry. The Lovegood family is like the Scamander family. Magical beasts just like them. I don't know why, they don't know why, it's just… sometimes, magic is weird."

As the recollection of the first memory ended, Harry curled deeply into his blanket, while he enjoyed the feeling of an emotionally wrecked Dobby running his fingers through Harry's hair.

The second memory was from shortly after Harry's calming drought had kicked in.

"How are you feeling, Harry?" asked a concerned Albus.

Harry breathed in deeply, enjoying his fixed nose and jaw along with the deep sense of calm that enveloped him. Oddly, he knew it was a false calm, but the magic of the calming draughts ensured he accepted his calm state wasn't temporary with a complete sense of… well… calm. Honestly, he had been mostly emotionally fine before then, however the healer had insisted that was just the shock talking. The man had properly healed Harry's injuries within minutes of his arrival to the campsite. But, despite being healed, the healer had argued strongly that Harry should spend the evening at a hospital due to the severe concussions that had been received. He admitted that the concussions had also been easily treated, so were not likely to be a problem. Still, Harry supposed a person didn't become a healer without gaining a bit of paranoia about their patient's health. In the end, Albus and Remus agreed to stay up all night to observe Harry and cast the appropriate diagnostic spells every quarter hour, and to do whatever it took to keep the injured boy relaxed.

As Remus accompanied the healer back to the hospital, Harry watched Sirius and Dobby silently arguing as they took turns in transfiguring his cot into a ridiculously luxurious and likely comfortable bed. If the calming magic allowed him to feel intense emotions, he might have found himself laughing. Still, it was enjoyable to… wait, did Albus just ask him something. With a curious look he turned towards the concerned older man and answered with a lazy smile on his face.

"Hmm?"

Albus chuckled. "I see that Healer Pond gave you a particularly strong dose of potion. I take it you are feeling well?"

Harry blinked slowly, as his smile remained etched firmly in place. "Yep"

"Once Dobby and Sirius finish sorting out your bed, I believe it will be time for you to get yourself a relaxing night of sleep. If you wish to talk, I am here for you, or you may continue to enjoy staring blankly at nothing. Whatever makes you happy."

"Hmmm" Harry approvingly responded, his eyes sliding along random spots on the walls until it landed on the false window (as their campsite was an extended space built into a hole dug seven feet underground, since the Lovegoods insisted that tents attracted… something). As he stared at the window, he frowned (mentally only, as his facial muscles were to calm to be bothered with the effort of frowning).

"Why couldn't I escape?"

"Do you mean why you couldn't Hyper Jump, or are you asking about the magic preventing you from walking through the doorway?"

"Hmmm"

Albus chuckled at the response. "Well, Xenophilius likely has many theories on that top. I am unsure of how the Fleshrender does it, but it appears to be a hunting technique it uses in response to the abilities of the Sockhoarder. The Sockhoarder has an ability to teleport, as that is how it enters non-magical abodes and then into the running dryers. The Fleshrender blocks that ability, along with using the natural contours of the room to form a trap for its prey. There are wards that can mimic what happened with the walls and doors, though they usually take at least a day to setup, rather than the instant ability of the Fleshrender."

"I didn't think anything could block my Hyper Jumps."

Albus shrugged. "While I have not found a way yet to block your technique, I have warned you that nothing is impossible with magic. The creature's ability was a surprise to me, but then again the only people I know who have successfully gotten near a Fleshrender while keeping it alive are Xenophilius, young Luna, and my friend Newt."

"Hmmm… where is Luna?"

"She went with her father to drop off the Fleshrender in a safe habitat, along with taking the Sockhoarders to a separate habitat. I suspect Xenophilius will go collect the reward from the local authorities from our work today."

"Reward?"

Albus rose an eyebrow. "Did you think I had you spending the day in a laundry room for the fun of it… well, Xenophilius and Luna likely had fun, so… sorry, you are in no state for my tangents. Yes, there is a reward. Xenophilius, Newt, and I are three of the top magical beast handlers in the world. I suppose Hagrid could possibly rank up there if he was willing to leave the Forbidden Forest to its own devices, but he is content where he is. We are called in when the local authorities encounter a problem that is beyond their abilities. The Quibbler has always been a magazine that loses money, so this is how Xenophilius supports his family financially. With the bounty for removing two Fleshrenders, that should cover the next few years of family and business expenses. And, of course, you will be receiving another hefty increase to your vault."

"Hmmm… why couldn't I escape?"

Albus smiled wryly, as he waved his wand over Harry and nodded approvingly at whatever the result was. "I believe you need to get to sleep soon. You've already asked that, my boy."

Harry blinked slowly. "No… how does it stop my Jumps when I could Jump out of Gringotts?"

"Ah… no one knows."

Harry shrugged tiredly. "OK. I guess it's just as well. Imagine what people would do to those creatures if it turned out they held an ingredient or something for making a perfect prison."

Seeing that the bed was now ready, and Sirius had decided to become a living pillow, Harry began to climb in as Albus answered.

"Yes, that would not end well for them. I know that Newt would do anything to protect the magical beasts he loves, even if it meant concealing his own… hmmm… I wonder…"

Whatever Albus wondered, the calming draught ensured Harry didn't care. All cared about was how comfortable he felt cuddling into Sirius furry body and reveling in being fretted over by his friend Dobby.

As the last of his clear memories reran in his mind, Harry found himself slipping into a deep and peaceful sleep, knowing that he would be safe under the watchful eyes of his family.

The next 10 days of the trip were comparatively dull. Though, Harry wasn't complaining about not having to fight for his life. Instead, the days were spent simply traveling to mountains, forests, swamps, underwater caves, and other breathtaking locales.

While they rarely encountered any of the rare creatures they sought, the Lovegoods seemed unperturbed. Xenophilius took copious sketches of clouds, while deriving meaning from their formations. Luna, meanwhile, spent most of her time talking to Rolf Scamander about the local plant life.

Rolf's presence had been a new addition to the expedition. Three days after the Fleshrender attack, Rolf had appeared in their camp holding a pair of radish earrings that had acted as his portkey. Apparently, the boy (who was a year older than Harry) was sent by his grandfather, Newt Scamander. He had come bearing some research papers that Albus had requested. Rolf had watched closely as Albus reviewed the papers with interest, before dutifully incinerating them and vanishing the ashes. It turned out that Newt had indeed concealed his research and revelations about the more interesting abilities of his beloved beasts, fearing it would be used to cause excessive harm to said animals. After the delivery was complete, Rolf had then shyly given the radish earrings to an equally shy Luna. For the next seven days, the pair was nearly always found next to each other, just centimeters short of holding hands as they discussed whatever trees or bushes or animals they happened to see or hoped to see.

Harry missed his conversations with Luna, but he filled his time with a more aggressive training program. His near-death experience had filled him with a conviction that he would never allow himself to come that close again to meeting his demise.

As such, as Rolf and Luna talked softly about a caterpillar that the two hunched over, with Luna's hair blowing into Rolf's face, Harry was enjoying a less peaceful pastime. Namely, having Dobby recreate his Bludger attack, as Harry flew at breakneck speeds (not quite matching his Nimbus, but he was getting there). Today's training had been made more difficult by adding a blindfold which required Harry to dodge using only his physical and magical senses.

"Ow!"

Harry yelled in pain as the Bludger smacked into his knee (thankfully the thing had a cushioning charm on it to keep from causing real injuries).

"Harry Potter, sir, needs to remember to avoid being hit by the Bludgerry ball!" shouted Dobby. While the elf's tone was sincere, Harry was certain he could detect a whiff of mockery.

"Yes, thank you, Dobby. I will remember that. It's just… OW!"

"Dobby be thinking Harry Potter, sir, needs to remember quicker. Dobby be not knowing how Harry Potter, sir, be dodging the toothy rabbity bun."

A chuckling Albus spoke up before Harry could respond to the cheeky elf. "I believe that is enough practice for the day, Harry. Dobby can abuse you more later. For now, it appears we need to pack up and part ways with our kind hosts."

Harry frowned, as he paused in mid-air. He pulled off his blindfold and was surprised to see the Bludger hovering front of his face, painted to look like a smiling Dobby face. He rolled his eyes. "Very nice, Dobby!"

The smiling face stuck out a painted tongue before making a raspberry sound and flying off. Ignoring his odd friend's humor, Harry landed gently on the ground before transfiguring the grass into a comfy chair.

"I thought we had another week or so before the Lovegoods were heading back for the new school year. Why are we leaving now?"

"I have received an invitation to attend the Quidditch World Cup that is occurring tomorrow, and I believe we should attend."

Harry smiled. "Not that I'm going to complain, but I thought you had received a dozen of those invites already. You kept saying that you didn't want me to miss out on any more possible creatures we might find. What changed?"

Albus nodded agreeably. "That is true, this is the 17th invitation, but the inviter has made a good case for our attendance."

"Who invited us?"

"Lucius."

"Malfoy?"

"The same."

Harry stared at Albus, as the older man stared back placidly. It was clear that the man wanted Harry to ask the obvious follow-up question. Harry waited patiently, hoping the older man would breakdown first and just give the reason. Sadly, Harry was physically tired and did not have the decades of practicing patience under his belt.

With an annoyed huff, after ten minutes of silence, Harry spoke. "Fine. Why are we accepted Malfoy's invitation?"

With the tiniest of victorious smirks, Albus responded. "It appears that Lucius has heard rumors that some completely innocent victims of the Imperious Curse might be suffering, as a group, from a lingering effect of the Curse. As such, they might find themselves involuntarily performing some untoward actions after the Cup's competition has completed. He feels as if my presence might help to weaken the effect of the Curse, especially if they overheard my vocal reassurances that I would vigorously defend my charge from any untoward activities, and how my retirement from my various positions means that I am no longer restrained in how powerful and inventive I can be in your defense."

Harry took a moment to translate the older man's political language into English, and finally sighed in mock annoyance.

"Fine… but I am not attending Lockhart's party!"

Albus's eyes twinkled in response. "That is more than fair. I believe you have already fulfilled this month's quota for defying death."

22. Chapter 22

"… and that is how Krum ended up catching the snitch! It was amazing, dad. Sirius says that you would have loved it, though he thinks that mum would have teased you for weeks if you ended up acting as stupidly as I did when the Veela did their routine."

Harry smiled fondly at the memory of the game, as he sat cross-legged in front of his parents' grave. It was hard to believe that the anniversary of their sacrifice (Remus had recommend that Harry use "sacrifice" rather "death", which helped Harry feel more connected to the parents he never got the chance to know in life) had come again. The beginning of the day had been spent reading to children at Saint Mungo's, and now he had spent the past few hours catching his mum and dad up with his past year of adventures.

Rubbing his chest, idly wondering what he had eaten to have such persistent heart burn, he smiled broadly as he remembered another aspect of the Quidditch World Cup.

"Oh! So, the triplets… I told you that is what George, Fred, and Hermione call themselves now, right? Well, they ended up winning their bet with that Ministry guy… Batman… no! Bagman! Anyways, they won, but the guy had clearly not intended to pay off his debts. Luckily for Fred and George, Hermione had Albus hold their money for the bet. So, they didn't lose their life savings. They were really upset about not getting the extra money for their joke shop, but Albus let slip about Sirius and Remus being Marauders, and now they are thrilled to have real investors who are happy to share some of their pranking secrets."

Harry chuckled as he recalled a private conversation he had with Mr. Weasley.

"Mum, I think you'll like this part. According to Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley wasn't overly keen about the twins' dream of starting a prank shop. But, once she discovered that Hermione was being put in charge of the business plan, she is tentatively excited to see their dream come true. Even then, she is still doing her best to confiscate all their merchandise and order forms. She apparently believes that if they can't sneak it past her, then they won't be able to sneak it past the staff at Hogwarts. Remus says that you would often do that sort of thing to dad and ended up drastically improving the pranking skills of the Marauders."

With a quick scratch at his chest, he looked around at Albus, Sirius, and Dobby. The three were acting as bodyguards, ensuring Harry had complete privacy.

"Well, that covers the Cup. I don't know if Malfoy's warning was valid or not. Albus loudly talked about how much he would love to let loose to defend me, and earned several glares from random witches and wizards, but nothing of interest happened. Remus says that means that Albus did his job, but… who knows? Speaking of Remus, you may have noticed that he isn't here tonight. Well, just shy of a fortnight ago…"

"Mr. Lupin, I will ask you more time" spoke an elderly wizard who stared at Remus with a deadly serious expression, "and I must stress this, a simple recanting of your position is all it will take to release you. Otherwise, you will be spending the next three months in that cell. Three months, at the minimum, with the possibility of never being released. Now, I will ask you this final time, do you recant?"

Remus stared resolutely back at the elderly wizard, separated by sturdy prison bars. The cell was bare, no bed for sleeping, no sink, no toilet. Other than the barred door and thick stone walls, there was a barred window that allowed one to see the sky outside. Harry watched Remus with bated breath.

"No"

The elderly wizard nodded seriously. "Very well, Mr. Lupin. The record shows that you have been offered three chances to recant, so we shall move forward. On behalf of the International Guild of Healers, I want to offer you my sincere gratitude. Very few would be willing to take such a risk, and I sincerely hope that tonight's results will be a rousing success for you. Alchemist Dumbledore, you may proceed."

Albus smiled kindly. "Thank you, Healer Tanaka. The full moon is expected to rise in one hour and 53 minutes. Remus, please drink the potion and then describe any unusual feelings you have."

Albus passed a stone cup through the bars, a glowing liquid of swirling red and gold sloshed gently within. Remus raised the cup toward the room full of observers on the other side of the bars. "Cheers".

With that, he carefully and quickly downed the entire potion, ensuring not a drop was missed. He then passed the cup back through a food slot in the bars to an awaiting Albus. The food slot was then covered with a thick plate of metal and thoroughly locked into place.

"It tastes like… nothing… not like water has no taste… but like the complete absence of taste. Other than that, I don't feel anything else yet."

Albus nodded. "Thank you, Remus. Please keep us advised if anything changes. Assuming nothing goes wrong, tomorrow morning your cell will be furnished with anything you would like to make your stay as comfortable as possible."

Remus smiled as he sat down on the bare floor. "Thank you, Albus. I do remember how this worked the last time we tested one of your cure attempts."

Harry walked up to the line on the floor which signified the minimum distance one was to keep from the bars. The separation between the bars was such that it should be impossible for a man or werewolf to get anything thicker than a finger or claw between them, but no chances were being taken.

As Albus conferred with the other observers, Harry and Sirius took seats on the floor. Harry found himself admiring Remus's relaxed expression.

"So… three months… doesn't that seem a bit extreme?"

Remus chuckled ruefully. "Perhaps it is a touch… over-cautious, especially if this ends up having no effect, but it is based on some reasonable precautions. Given the consequences of things going wrong, I prefer to err on the side of being extremely safe."

"That makes sense, but… why can't you just be locked in around the full moon? Or, just come at night?"

Remus's expression took on a saddened tinge. "Because of Eleanor Prewett".

"Who is that?"

After a pause, Remus sighed. "For as long as this curse has existed, people have been trying to find ways to cure it. The problem is that the curse is unbelievably strong and resilient. It fights every attempt at a cure. Transfiguration masters have had limited success in transforming the wolf back into a human, but the success is immediately reverted as soon as the master stops actively pumping their magic into the transfiguration. Potions masters have tried using the Draught of the Living Dead, but the potion fails as soon as the transformation starts. Up until Eleanor, no one had succeeded in making a difference that was non-fatal, and so there were no special precautions in place for those attempting cures."

"What happened?"

"Magical transportation improved to allow one to cross the Atlantic in under an hour."

Harry frowned in confusion. "Why would that make a difference?"

Remus's expression transitioned into what Harry recognized as Professor Lupin mode. "This was in the middle of the 16th century. The Americas were largely unexplored by the European muggles, but the magical communities of Europe and the Americas were enjoying friendly relations. And… well, there is a long history that we can cover in one of your later lessons. The shorter version is that due to the Bering Strait, the rapid crossing of the Atlantic meant that one could now circumnavigate the globe within 6 hours. It was an expensive trip for those who weren't absurdly powerful enough to manage the portkeys and apparating without assistance, but it was doable. And, while most werewolves are usually disowned and in a near constant state of destitution, there are usually a couple of us who are lucky enough to have family willing to care for us."

Harry nodded slowly. "And Eleanor's family took care of her?"

"The Prewett family has a long history of putting family before everything, so when Eleanor was bitten at age 18, they didn't hesitate in taking care of her. And when the news came out that it was possible to travel the globe so quickly, nearly everyone impacted by the curse immediately wondered if racing the sun was the cure that we had so long craved. After all, if you are always in the daylight, then there is no moon to worry about. Eleanor, now 25, had a family that was moderately wealthy and could afford the trip."

With a deep sigh, Remus continued. "So, after a lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, Eleanor and her father began the trip. Eleanor was locked in a small cage for the entire journey. While there were no official precautions the family was required to take, they were not taking unnecessary risks. Over a full 24 hours, they travelled west, always leaving for the next jump around noon. When they arrived back in England, they had skipped an entire night of the full moon. And Eleanor… remained unchanged."

"What!? It worked!? That's amaz…" Harry looked at the sad look in Remus's eyes. "That's not the end of the story."

"No, it's not. To celebrate the apparent success, Eleanor and her father went to The Leaky Cauldron for lunch. They planned to share the good news with the family afterwards. While waiting for their food to arrive, Eleanor must have felt the exhaustion catch up with her. According to her father, the pair of them had not slept a wink for the entire journey. At that table, awaiting a good meal, and flooded with relief, Eleanor sleepily smiled and told her father that she loved him, and laid her head in her hands to take a nap. And then… she transformed."

Harry's eyes widened in shock. "But… it was lunch time… How is that possible? Wait! You said she was in the middle of the Leaky Cauldron. What happened?"

Remus shrugged with a sense of resignation. "The same fate that awaits all those touched by this curse. Tragedy, Harry, our constant companion. Tragedy happened. There were a pair of Aurors having lunch, and they responded as Aurors have always been trained to deal with an unrestrained werewolf. She had just managed one snarl after completing her transformation before being struck with two killing curses, followed by several more killing curses and other nastier spells. With that, Eleanor was gone and the Prewett family was fined so severely that it took them generations to climb out of poverty. Though, remarkably, they never let this dim their belief in supporting family. After that, attempts at curing our curse became much more regulated. After all, if the change can occur in the middle of the day, then extreme caution should be exercised."

"But how did she change when the moon was out?"

"The widely accepted theory is that the curse has more than one trigger. The primary trigger is obviously being touched by the light of a full moon. Another trigger appears to be time, which would explain why we will transform even when locked in a dungeon without any access to windows. Though, some believe that the moonlight transmits magic through walls as well, but it is still unproven. For Eleanor, the belief is that the constant sunlight kept the time trigger from fully completing but falling asleep somehow made the curse to realize it was past time for the trigger. It was one of the biggest breakthroughs in our understanding of our affliction and nearly every werewolf learns about Eleanor Prewett. Not that it is hard to remember, as the next breakthrough wouldn't happen for centuries after that."

Harry followed Remus's gaze and looked over at Albus, who was quietly arguing with Healer Tanaka.

"Was the next breakthrough when you tested Albus's cure attempt?"

Remus smiled fondly. "For all the fame that man has, he deserves so much more. The whole time I was in Hogwarts, Albus was researching the curse and possible cures. Well, Albus and the Flamels. It was their promise to research my affliction that just barely got me my permission to attend Hogwarts. Of course, I didn't find out about any of that until I was preparing to graduate and Albus approached me with the opportunity to test his possible cure. I agreed immediately, and one of the observers happened to mention that the deal Albus had made to allow me my time at school. I suspect he would have happily let me live my life without knowing the amount of effort that was required on his part to allow me a modicum of a normal childhood."

Harry chuckled. "That does sound like him. So, how did his attempt work?"

Remus tilted his hand side to side. "As a cure, it didn't work. As an avenue for more research, it was a grand success. As a very simplified explanation, it was an alchemical potion he and the Flamels had designed to neutralize dark magic. I still don't quite understand how they managed to get it to only target the curse, while not attacking any other magic. Still, he did get it to work… to a degree. The design is such that if there is no dark magic active, the potion remains dormant. Since the curse remains dormant until the transformation, the potion remains inert until the transformation. His cure kept me from transforming for just shy of 15 minutes."

"Couldn't he have given you a bigger dose?"

Remus shook his head dismissively. "The potion, like most cure attempts, is a hair breadth's away from being a highly toxic poison. I needed a couple of weeks after the attempt to work out the toxins as it was. However, the most important thing was that the attempt didn't pause the transformation, it slowed it down. The curse's magic and the potion's magic were fighting each other, so I managed to be lucid for 10 minutes of the transformation. That had never happened before. Up until that point in history, the transformation would start, while the person becomes catatonic. When transformed, the wolf would take complete control. The understanding we all had was that the curse forces the human mind into some corner of the brain, where only the vaguest sense of consciousness could be found. Sometimes I may remember feeling happy or angry, perhaps even a confusing image will be there. That was the understanding we have all had of the curse since… since werewolves first came into being."

"That's not what happens?"

"No… well, the curse still forces the human mind into the corner, but the mechanism is not an instant case of it being magically performed. What I discovered from the slow transformation is that the wolf takes control through the sudden and sharp application of pain. Instead of being instant pain, Albus's potion left me feeling the slow buildup of pain. I have been under the Cruciatus since that experiment, but the pain I felt before blacking out was something that Death Eaters could only wish to inflict."

"You passed out?"

"I BLACKED out. I am told I kept talking. I am told that I screamed 'I GIVE UP' and begged for the pain to end. After that, I became catatonic, and they watched over the next 5 minutes as my body slowly completed the transformation. It was that moment that changed a fundamental understanding of our curse."

Harry frowned in confusion. "I don't understand. Didn't you already know it was painful?"

Remus thoughtless ran a finger down one of the scars on his face. "The transformation… leaves us sore, and we sometimes get injuries that are painful. But the pain I felt was before the physical transformations really began in earnest. I believe… I believe that the pain is an act of dominance. The suddenness and intensity demand I submit. And that submission offers the comfort of a peaceful and pain-free place for my mind to rest for the night. It was that revelation that led researchers down the path of finding a way to bolster the human mind and keep it from submitting to the wolf."

Harry's eyes widened in recognition. "The Wolfsbane Potion!"

"Exactly! Wolfsbane Potion, again being mostly a poison, works by slowly putting the person under increasing amounts of pain while also deadening the nerves. Multiple doses are needed to bring us to the proper level of internal pain and balancing that with making as unable to feel as possible. Then, during the transformation, the curse is unable to inflict as much agony as normal, as we are already enduring more pain than it can it bring to bear. As such, we don't feel that sudden shock that instinctually makes our mind retreat. If we maintain our minds throughout the physical transformation, the wolf's mind then retreats and we maintain control even while asleep. Again, that is a simplistic description of a dreadfully complex potion. It also means that many of our kind pass on taking the Wolfsbane Potion, as they view the three days of agony not worth being able to keep their minds for the evening."

Harry winced in sympathy. "That's not what tonight's attempt is doing, is it?"

Remus chuckled. "No… well, I hope not. I have no idea how this will work out. I know that Albus is hopeful that Marcus's idea will be the key."

Harry stretched as he tried to find a comfortable sitting position, as his heartburn worsened.

"By the way, Marcus is why Albus was arguing with that healer. While everyone else laughed at my story of what happened with the Phoenix droppings, and Sirius even wrote a short version of a Boy-Who-Lived book called The Boy-Who-Lived and the Head of Flaming Poop, Marcus was filled with wonder by my letter. Although, he did appreciate the personal copy of Sirius's book which he promised to never share with another living soul. He knows that Remus is a werewolf, and he wanted to help a man who is both a mentor to him and my honorary uncle. If it wasn't for him sharing his ideas with Albus, the cure being attempted would have never happened. Albus wanted to make sure that Marcus got the appropriate credit in case the cure worked. Alas, Marcus didn't do enough work to be eligible for any awards, but Albus has ensured he will be listed as providing the key insight into the new attempt. I am told that, in this case, an accolade that small is still something major enough that even Snape would drool at the chance of receiving such recognition."

Harry shuddered as he forced the image of a drooling Snape from his mind as he continued. "I didn't really understand the technical details that Albus explained to Remus. What I gather is that he was able to work with the research provided by Newt Scamander, who had long since broken down the process that allows phoenix droppings to be magically inert, until impacted by active magic, and then it begins a full day of repeated self-immolation and regeneration. Albus then incorporated Newt's research into his previous cure attempt from years ago, with the hope that it would regenerate the magic of the potion as it fights the dark magic of the curse. The end goal being utter destruction of the curse. That melding of his cure with the phoenix... poop… I'm not going to bother trying to use fancier words for it. Sorry mum, but the melding was Marcus's idea, and he apparently giggled every time he got to write the word 'poop' to someone as revered as Albus and laughed even harder whenever Albus would write the word back. So, Marcus thought that the magic of Phoenix Poop could be combined with a werewolf cure, and Albus ran with the idea."

"I do hope that Marcus still appreciates his commitment to the phrase 'Phoenix Poop', because his name is going to be associated with it for a very long time. Because, and this is the big news, Albus's cure worked!"

Harry smiled joyfully. "It was awesome! The first ten minutes of the full moon went like Remus was expecting based on the attempt years prior. The pain was slowly ramping up to nearly unbearable, and then he began to laugh uncontrollably as his skin glowed and light erupted from his mouth. Apparently, phoenix regeneration magic is very ticklish when its internal. He was then pain free for ten minutes, and ten minutes after that when the pain started to become too much, the laughter and light show began again. It continued like that for the next few hours, with the pause between bouts of pain increasing slowly. Then, about three or four hours into the full moon, the pain stopped occurring. After that, Remus was conversing with us happily, having a pun competition with Sirius and Dobby, and then about every half hour he would pause to laugh uproariously as he emitted light. The light even became… cleaner, I think because it was no longer consuming the curse. When morning came, the laughter episodes slowed to an end and Remus finally drifted off to sleep."

Harry winced as his heartburn spiked painfully. "… ouch! Sorry, I have no idea what I ate. Where was I? Right! So, it's been twelve days, and Remus has not transformed. The healers have run the rather complex tests needed to detect the Werewolf Curse, and they have yet to see a hint or trace of it. They are tentatively hopeful that Albus's cure has successfully dispelled the curse utterly. If things still look good in three months, they'll start testing with other volun… OW! DAMN IT!"

"HARRY!?" Two men and an elf quickly appeared by the boy who had just screamed in pain.

Harry gripped his chest tightly as he mentally shunted his pain to where he normally stored the pain from when he looked at raw magic. With a deep breath and sigh, he responded to his worried guardians and friend. "I don't think this is just indigestion I'm feeling. Unless Sirius let one of his pranks get out of hand?"

As Sirius rose his hands in protest and Dobby glared at the animagus, Albus ignored the brewing conflict between Godfather and Godelf (Sirius having given Dobby the title) and stared at Harry's chest.

"Harry, are you able to look at the magic around your chest?"

Harry shrugged. "It will take a lot more pain than that before I hit my threshold. Why?"

Harry automatically shifted the pain of looking at raw magic (having worked his way up to a full hour before it became too much) and looked around. As he looked down at his chest, his eyes widened in shock.

"What… is that… how could I… Oh no no no no no no"

Albus gently squeezed Harry's shoulder, helping Harry to focus on not panicking. "I think I know what you're thinking, Harry. Let me assure you, it's not a link to a Horcrux."

Harry exhaled a relieved breath, having not realized he had stopped breathing when Albus had touched his shoulder. As he looked down at his chest, he could now examine things without having his thoughts clouded by shock. Like a Horcrux, there was a tendril of magic extending from his chest (from his heart, he guessed). Unlike a Horcrux, the tendril was not roaming in random directions, as it extended in an unwavering line towards some distant point in space. Also, unlike a Horcrux, the line seemed to be… straining… yes, straining. Like… like a fishing line. Which meant that Harry was the fish. Tentatively, Harry took an experimental step forward in the direction of the tendril, and immediately felt the pain disappear.

"OK… it's not a Horcrux. That's good. Instead, I just feel like I'm being reeled in by a hungry fisherman, which is not so good. What's going on, Albus?"

Harry took another step forward as he felt the pain start up again, causing the pain to dissipate.

Albus waved his wand in weird patterns over the magic tendril as he answered the boy. "I have never seen anything like this before… but Perenelle once told me about something similar in appearance to this. If it's what I am thinking… forgive me, give me a few minutes. Keep walking forward though, don't fight the magic for now."

After several minutes of watching Albus wave his wand and muttering, and many steps forward, the man paused and grumbled several barely audible filthy expletives.

"Give me one more moment, Harry."

Albus disappeared from the spot, with the familiar magic of a Hyper Jump. Several seconds he returned. His expression was calm, but Harry was familiar enough with the man to see that he was tamping down some extreme emotions with his Occlumency skills.

"Sirius" Albus spoke softly, "if I am correct, then we might be executing Plan S3 tonight. Please go with Dobby to collect what is needed while I talk with Harry. We will continue walking until you return."

Sirius's eyes widened in shock. "S3? But… Remus…"

"Remus will understand. Remember, the plan is only executed if the agreed criteria are met. Harry and I will be fine as we wait for you."

Godfather and Godelf looked to Harry with questioning eyes. Harry smiled slightly. "It's OK, go ahead. The pain is stops whenever I take step forward. I'll be fine."

With a final look, the pair disappeared with a loud pop. Harry then looked up at Albus.

"So, what is happening?"

Albus removed his glasses, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and gently put his glasses back in place. With a final calming breath, he responded.

"I hope that I am mistaken, but it seems we are dealing with a variation of a slave binding."

"… a SLAVE binding!?"

"A variation, yes."

"And how, exactly, do I have a slave binding… sorry, a VARIATION of a slave binding?"

"Let me tell you about the artifact known as The Goblet of Fire…"

23. Chapter 23

"… which brings you up to date on the history of the Triwizard Tournament"

Harry sighed in annoyance as he stared up at the spires of the old castle. Albus had spent the past quarter of an hour filling him in on what his future likely had in store for him. It hadn't taken long for Sirius and Dobby to collect what was needed for Contingency Plan S3, and Albus transported the four of them to the gates of Hogwarts.

As Dobby and Sirius held a hushed, yet animated, conversation over a small pouch that sat innocuously on the ground, Harry leaned back into his conjured recliner and took a long calming breath.

"So, to clarify, I am not yet a contestant in this stupid contest?"

There was no question about whether Harry was entered, as the cord of magic linking him to the school was directly connected to the Great Hall where the idiotic cup was sitting.

Albus nodded from his own recliner, as his eyes roamed over the school's profile. "Yes, the names are not officially chosen for another 33 minutes. At that time, you will officially become a contestant. I would also recommend not publicly calling it a stupid contest, as it is a stupid contest with a long enough history to become a tradition with fan clubs around the world who annually hold Fantasy Triwizard Tournaments where they hypothetically pit past winners against other notable people alive and dead. And people don't like it when their stupid traditions' obvious stupidity is called out."

"But… there is a chance I won't be selected… right?"

"There is always a chance, but I doubt Tom would have left much room for that chance."

"And we're sure that this is one of Tom's schemes?"

Albus merely turned his head slightly to catch Harry's eyes and raised an eyebrow with an impressive amount of incredulity. Harry chuckled and spoke again. "Right, of course it's one of his schemes. And, OF COURSE, I am going to be selected."

The two fell into a brief silence, as Dobby shook his head fiercely at Sirius, before slapping the man's face and pointing at an object on the ground (they had spread the contents of the pouch on the grass about twenty feet from Albus and Harry). Sirius took the slap in stride, stared at the object, and nodded in understanding. As the two returned to their silent debate, Harry broke the silence.

"Alright. To sum up, I will be forced to participate in three activities, though you are unsure of the level of required participation outside of attendance. The three activities and corresponding dates were submitted to the Goblet, which then verified the organizers truly believed they were sporting activities a student could successfully perform. Once verified, the Goblet ignited and bound the organizers to setting up the activities. For the participants, to be selected, they must think of themselves as primarily being students and the Goblet must determine they are both the best candidate of the candidate pool and capable of completing the activities."

Albus nodded. "Indeed. And it came from a time when the rights of children were all but non-existent, so it does not require the names to be entered voluntarily. Alas, I do not know the punishment for non-participation, but there is research that suggests willful non-participation would result in lethal consequences. That punishment applies to the organizers as well. Theoretically, if you were not so attuned to your magic, you would have not felt the pull so strongly and would have gotten with little to no punishment for non-willful non-participation as you would have been ignorant of being selected."

Harry huffed loudly as he ran his hand through his hair. "Grand! And we can't just destroy the damned thing because the magical backlash is highly likely to kill all those it is bound to. DAMN IT! I can't believe it is so easy to magically enslave people."

"It's not."

Harry frowned in confusion as he converted his recliner into a straight back chair and floated it to face directly towards Albus. Albus kindly reciprocated, so the two were facing each other directly.

"Do I need to remind you that I have been ensnared with a slave binding for a contest I did not enter?"

"A VARIATION of a slave binding! And, yes, I believe I heard about that somewhere. You have also survived an unsurvivable curse and regularly use a form of transportation that you invented and only one other person in the world knows how to perform. The unusual happens around you with surprising regularity, so it would be a best practice for you to not assume something happening to you is something that would commonly happen to others. In this case though, let's assume I am wrong, and tell me what the consequences would be of it being easy to magically enslave others."

Harry groaned. "Albus, I am not in the mood for another one of these thought experiment lessons."

He calmly met Albus's piecing gaze, as the man stared at Harry over the top of his spectacles. Normally this would be when Harry capitulated to playing along with the lesson, but this time he was in not in a learning mood and held his ground.

After a minute of silence, Albus sighed deeply and conjured a circular wooden table. With a quick hand signal made towards Dobby, Harry found the table laden with an assortment of his favorite snacks and desserts which Dobby kept preserved in an expanded pouch that he always kept around his neck. With that, Dobby returned to plotting with Sirius by competing in an overly complicated variant of Rock Paper Scissors, though Harry could now see the quick concerned glances the duo would occasionally throw in his direction.

Once Harry took a delicious bite of treacle tart, Albus began speaking.

"Alright, Harry, we'll skip the thought experiment this time. I apologize for misjudging your stress levels just now. To answer your concern, the simple response is that if it were easy to magically enslave others, we would all be slaves already."

Harry frowned around his bite of tart but waited patiently for Albus to continue.

"You have a good soul, Harry. It's what drives so many of your acts of kindness and your forgiving nature, and the world is a better place for it. However, that sometimes leaves you with a blind spot when it comes to understanding the attraction of forcing people to follow your will. The oldest spoken histories make it clear that people have enslaved others since we first became capable of it. And attempting to use magic as a shortcut to enslavement is equally as old of a human endeavor. Forget about Dark Lords for the moment, can you imagine every politician in the world would pass up the opportunity to magically ensure the people followed their will? Or every employer in the world would refuse to magically ensure their underlings remained loyal? Returning to Tom, do you think he would be willing to split his soul, but decide enslaving his followers or even his 11-year-old nemesis was a bridge too far?"

Harry shook his head. "I suppose that makes sense, but there are still ways to do it. I mean, there is the Goblet, and house elves…"

Albus nodded sadly. "The Goblet is notable because it is the only known artifact in the world that comes even close to performing magical enslavement. Even then, the binding dissolves at the end of the third activity and it requires that the activities be sporting events. Additionally, there are no notes available for recreating its magic, which likely means it was invented through another enchanter beating their own unique path through the unexplored forests of magic. Hundreds of years of research, and no one has even come close to creating another Goblet. As for house elves…"

Albus looked over fondly at Dobby before continuing.

"Socks… that's all it took. A pair of socks, and the slave binding was broken for our friend Dobby. Magic always comes with a cost. Sometimes it is just a bit of energy and concentration, sometimes it is ingredients for a potion, sometimes it is painful experimentation, sometimes it is the sacrifice of a life, sometimes… well, there is always a cost. If you want to bind someone to your will, where they must follow your every command, then the normal cost is that the binding is brittle and incredibly easy to break. The only keeping the House Elves bound is the many generations of brain washing. If you want to use the Imperius, you can control a person, but the cost is that it can be broken with sufficient will power or sufficient sense of self and it becomes easier to break as the commands diverge more extremely from the person's own desires."

Harry leaned forward with interest. "Really? Do you think I could break the Imperius?"

Albus shrugged noncommittally. "Possibly. I know some people that will allow us to train you legally if you would care to. However, it is likely you could break it, as I am aware of cases where some exceptional non-magical people have thrown off the curse. One such case resulted in the intended victim ending the lives of the two Death Eaters who tried to control him to commit some very… unpleasant actions upon his wife and children."

Harry's eyes widened in shock. "How did he manage that?"

"Well… never underestimate the loyalty a man has to his family, and especially never assume that man is not a top enforcer for one of the most notorious criminal enterprises in London. It is a fascinating story, but perhaps we should move on…"

Albus took a sip of tea that Dobby had poured without Harry's notice.

"The closest anyone has come to replicating the effects of the Goblet is considered a prank. It is a 'contract' that becomes popular every decade or so at Hogwarts. The creator applies terms to the contract, along with punishments, and then if someone signs the contract and breaks the terms, the

contract breaker is immediately punished. It quickly fades in popularity, because someone will contact a curse breaker and discover that you can undetectably break the binding to the contract with two simple spells. Additionally, when people discover the contract creator pays a price many times greater than the punishment, all interest immediately disappears."

Harry leaned forward in fascination. "What sort of price would they pay?"

"Since they attempted to force someone to perform something against their will, their magic curses their minds to work against their own will. As an example, using the wildly inaccurate House stereotypes, a Gryffindor might find their courage failing them and they won't pursue their heart's desire. A Slytherin might find themselves overlooking even the most obvious schemes of their enemies. A Ravenclaw might find themselves turning down rare and invaluable knowledge for the most nonsensical reasons. A Hufflepuff might find themselves unthinkingly betraying their most treasured friendship. Keep in mind, that is when the punishment is a relatively minor curse like causing a rash or a case of indigestion. Luckily the contract can't have a more severe punishment, as it would destroy the parchment before the contract was even finished, and those with the knowledge of enchanting or alchemy know enough about the magical blowback to avoid trying. As an interesting sidenote, some people have put forth the idea that your parents somehow tricked Tom into a magical contract where they exchanged their lives for yours."

"Really?"

"Really, though the theory breaks down quickly under scrutiny. After all, it is not like your parents would be the first people to sacrifice their lives for a loved one, and yet your survival remains unique. No one knows the numbers, but researchers believe it would take over a dozen people tricking Tom into taking their lives in exchange for yours, and that… huh…"

As Albus paused in deep thought, Harry's patience quickly faded (for some reason, the death of his parents was not a subject he found lent itself to patience on his part). "WHAT!?"

Albus startled slightly. "My apologies, Harry. I had never accounted for Horcruxes in those discussions. No one really knows how much of one's soul goes into those foul artifacts. Additionally, the Horcruxes might assure that the breaking of the contract would just be bodily destruction and not death. What if Tom's Horcruxes decreased the amount of soul in his body and provided a loophole to prevent a death penalty, which was just enough to let him be tricked into creating a contract that was actually magically enforceable. One where he agreed to exchange your parents' lives for yours, took their lives, and then was punished when he tried to blatantly violate his side of the contract?"

Harry could barely breath as he responded (vaguely he glimpsed Dobby and Sirius listening in equal shock). "Is that what happened?"

Albus stared out into space for another moment before shaking his head slowly, as if to clear his head. "I honestly don't know. It is possible, or it could be something your mother did, or just a combination of dozens of coincidences that led to the perfect storm to create a one-of-a-kind magical backlash. Your survival will likely remain a mystery long after we are all gone. However, I can say with complete confidence that your parents loved you utterly and would have gladly sacrificed themselves a hundred times over to give you even the longest of shots at life. No matter what twist of magic allowed you to live, your parents would just be grateful that the twist happened."

As Harry wiped a tear from his cheek, Albus stood and disappeared the conjured furniture while Dobby stored the food.

"Come on, we should start walking up to the castle."

As the four neared the front doors of the castle, Harry spoke up once again.

"What about magical vows?"

Albus narrowed his eyes in confusion and took a few moments to respond in confusion. "Similar to how people make vows on their lives and magic in the Boy Who Lived books?"

"… yeah"

Albus chuckled. "They don't exist, as far as I am aware. A Dark Lord or, even worse, a politician would immediately abuse such a thing to ensure that their subordinates and enemies were given the choice between death or a magical vow of obedience. I know of at least four individuals who betrayed Tom, and that wouldn't have happened if they had all made those one-sided magical vows. There is the Unbreakable Vow, but that is a two-sided vow that is primarily made between comrades in arms and is considered one of the greatest shows of trust."

"How does that one work?"

"The theory is simple. Two people make a vow. If the vow is broken, the penalty is death. For casting, you have the two vow makers and a binder. The vow makers speak out loud what they are vowing, and the binder is there to stabilize the magic and ensure that it settles properly. While you can be ordered to make the vow, the magic will only settle if you make the vow with the one who you believe is ordering you. So, Tom would have had to personally make the vow with each of his followers for them to be under the sway of an Unbreakable Vow with him."

As they opened the front door, Harry felt an odd mixture of nostalgia and trepidation as Dobby and Sirius hurried ahead of them to the Great Hall. To get over his nerves, he focused on the conversation at hand. "But… all Tom would have to do is make the vow be that neither of them will betray him, as he won't betray himself. If his follower betrays him, then the follower dies."

Albus smiled as he waved at the portraits and suits of armor, which waved back happily. "What did I say would happen if the vow is broken?"

"That the person would die… well, you said that the penalty is death. But that is pretty much the… it's not the same, is it? 'if the vow is broken, the penalty is death' is a weird way of saying that if you break the vow, then you die. And you also called it a sign of trust, when I could only imagine doing it with someone I don't trust. Unless… magic has a cost… so… do both people die?"

Albus nodded with a proud twinkle in his eye. "To be fair, that warning is written in bold in the books that teach the required spells."

Harry shrugged. "Huh… I can see why Tom would avoid that. Well, at least I don't have to worry about magical enslavement."

With that, the tendril of magic glowed a bright magenta (to those able to see such things) and Harry felt a sharp tug towards the doors of the Great Hall.

"Well, I wouldn't have to worry if I wasn't me."

The pair then walked forward into the Great Hall as Harry spoke out loud. "Hi everyone! Albus says that there is some sort of magic binding pulling me into Hogwarts. Does anyone know anything about that?"

A sea of staring faces and utter silence was the response.

"HARRY!"

The silence did not last long as Harry forced himself to not roll out of the way as a gaggle of smiling students surged towards him, with a certain bushy haired witch leading the pack (followed by a gaggle of redheads). Even still, he quickly cast some cushioning spells on his clothes to prepare for the imminent impact. In his peripheral vision, he could see Sirius and Dobby had snuck into the room several minutes earlier.

With several thuds (which would have been quite jarring without the cushioning charms), Harry found himself being hugged fiercely by his friends and patted on the back and shoulders by what felt like all the student body. Meanwhile, Albus walked forward to examine the wooden cup filled with blue-white flames.

"It's so wonderful to see you, Harry!"

"HARRY! Can you sign the picture I have of you with Professor Lockhart!?"

"You never get a break, do you?"

Harry struggled to differentiate between the different voices, but could not focus any of the questions, as everyone was speaking at once. Eventually, one voice made itself through the happy exclamations of welcome (Harry supposed he would have to thank Gilderoy for forcing him to regularly respond to all his fan mail, even those fans who were students at Hogwarts who had treated him with suspicion during Second Year).

"I don't know why you are all so happy to see this cheater!"

The students silenced as if hit with a spell (Harry knew they weren't as he was still looking at magic around him), while a certain hook-nosed professor sat at the head table and smirked in malicious delight.

A red headed girl wearing a yellow tie sighed as she responded to the curly haired boy. "Justin…"

"What!? You know he's a cheat Susan! How else would he know to show up right after the Goblet spit out his name? Can't let Hufflepuff have any of the honor, eh Potter?"

"Finch-Fletchley, you don't know what you're talking about!" spoke a familiar voice.

Harry was pleased to see the number of people who seemed to agree with Justin was exceedingly small (he would have to really talk up Lockhart when he attended the man's wedding to Rita next year, his letter writing was really paying off). He then looked over at Terrence Smythe, as the older boy stepped forward (followed by a happy looking Luna).

"You're only saying that Smythe because Potter…"

Justin trailed off as he noticed the looks on the faces of his housemates. Terrence responded immediately. "Just because… what? Just because… he decided to write weekly letters to my little brother who was dying? Just because… he refused to give up on Marcus when everyone else, including his family, had written his survival off as a lost cause? Just because… in the coming years I can look forward to coming back to visit my little brother at the Three Broomsticks instead of at his grave? Is that why?"

Justin quailed under the harsh looks directed at him from most of the student body.

Terrence took a deep breath. "Finch-Fletchley… Justin… you do have a point. Harry is an honorary member of my family now, and so I am far from impartial. So… Harry… I know you would like to keep this quiet, but… what were you doing this morning?"

Harry looked to Terrence, just barely keeping himself from shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. With a small sigh he responded. "I was at Saint Mungo's… reading to the children who were there for treatment, or they had family being cared for."

Harry pointedly ignored the sighs of delight and looks of desire coming from a portion of the student body, though there were certain people whose obvious desire was far from unwelcome.

"And where are you going tomorrow?"

Harry smiled slightly, grateful that Terrence didn't try to reveal Harry's annual visit to Godric's Hollow. "Albus has some friends among the merfolk in Australia, so I'll be learning mermish and visiting some of the nature preserves… yes Luna, I will send you pictures."

Luna beamed, as some of her fellow Ravenclaws whispered amongst themselves in response. Terrence smiled apologetically to Harry and then turned to Justin.

"So, Justin, do you really think that Harry would rather spend his winter here in Scotland by the Black Lake, or at the sunny beaches of Australia?"

Justin's eyes stayed firmly fixed upon the ground. Harry stepped forward and put his hand on Justin's shoulder, forcing the boy to look up in surprise.

"Justin, I get it. I really do. Hufflepuff gets an unfair reputation, despite producing some of the most amazing witches and wizards in history. And now, your house is given a chance to show everyone what you already know about it, and someone decides to mar the day by dragging me into what should be your House's moment. I don't know who got my name to come out, but I am just as mad as all of you. Believe me, Albus and I are doing everything we can to make sure this gets fixed, and I can leave you all to celebrate your real champion. So… no hard feelings?"

Harry could see the suspicion in Justin's eyes, so he knew that he hadn't won over the boy. But, Gilderoy had taught him that it was always better to publicly give your social enemies a graceful exit over forcing them into a corner. They will likely still be your enemy, but you can win over onlookers who are on the fence about you. Indeed, several of the suspicious looks in the crowd had turned to ones of support. Still, the tension left the crowd as Justin stiffly shook Harry's hand.

Of course, the moment of peace quickly ended as another familiar silky voice was heard, full of barely concealed malice.

"I see that your much welcomed exit from these hallowed halls of learning has done nothing to tame your out-of-control ego, Potter. Your head has grown nearly as large as that of your father."

Harry looked up at the sneering face of Severus Snape, rolled his eyes, and then caught Albus's eye. Albus shook his head slowly in exasperation before turning back to the Goblet and then speaking. "Contingency Plan S3 is approved".

"Harry" Sirius spoke up from the wall where he was standing at, grinning like a kid at Christmas, catching Snape by surprise. "The possibility of a Snape successfully avoiding insulting a Potter unprovoked is approximately 3,720 to 1".

With a smirk, seeing Dobby snapping his fingers and nodding, Harry responded. "Never tell me the odds!"

"It seems Azkaban has scrambled your wits, Black. Not that you ever… what!?"

Snape's insults died on his lips as he moved his hand to his throat reflexively. Said hand paused in its movement as soon as the man's eyes caught sight of it. He was clearly absorbed, as he did not respond to the growing surge of quiet chuckling coming from the student body.

Granted, Snape's response made sense. As his voice had taken on the distinctive tone and cadence of a famously beloved golden droid. His skin had also taken on a golden mechanical tone (though Harry knew that the man's right leg was silver from the knee down, as Albus insisted it was a crucial detail), and his movements had become downright robotic. The man lifted his head, with eyes now glowing golden as he stared directly at Harry.

"R2D2! What have you… no! R2D2… Not R2D2… R2D2!"

Harry looked behind him in confusion and looked back. "Are you talking to me, Professor? I'm Harry Potter, remember?"

Harry was impressed that Snape somehow managed to convey murderous rage with the voice of C3PO. "You know I am trying to say R2D2, R2D2! How are you making me say R2D2 instead?"

A tired voice made itself known from a grizzled and scarred older man who was standing next to Albus. "Professor Snape, a wise man knows when he has been bested, so choose the wise course of action and make your way to Madam Pomphrey."

"Headmaster, I insist that R2D2…"

"Professor, that wasn't a suggestion. Go! Now!"

As soon as Snape3PO was fully out of earshot, the barely contained laughter filled the Great Hall.

"How did you do it, Harry-kins?"

Harry turned to the terrifying trio of Fred, George, and Hermione. He smiled. "It helps having an alchemist around to figure out the trickier magic. Of course, this means that notorious Gredmione, Herforgione, and Fremiorge will need to up their game if they want to top that prank."

The twins turned to Hermione, who had a mad glint in her eyes. They turned back to Harry and spoke in properly creepy unison. "Challenge accepted!"

"I will assume I misheard that" spoke Headmaster Kettleburn as he and Albus walked over to Harry. The man turned to the student body, and with a quick sonorous charm his voice filled the hall. "Students, return to your seats!"

Reluctantly the students followed the command, after the headmaster glared at the stragglers. The man canceled the sonorous charm and turned to Harry.

"Can I assume my professor will be back to normal before classes in the morning?"

Harry nodded amiably.

"Terrific. Can I also assume you do not intend to attend any classes during your time back in the school, specifically in Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

Harry's eyebrows rose in shock but nodded just the same.

"Wonderful. Then, I will enjoy the time I have before listening to what is likely to be a complaint session of an unbearable length. Potter, good luck. Albus, once again, damn you for foisting this job off on me. I should have just retired."

With that, the headmaster stalked off. Albus turned to Harry.

"I have completed my investigation, and I am afraid that you are indeed bond by the Goblet. Once again, I highly recommend that you just participate instead of… no, I see your mind is made up. Just remember that magical artifacts are not people. Treat it like it is a Screeching Fleshrender. I have only fought one magical artifact in my life and that was… well, it is a long story that you have no interest in at the moment. Just… don't play around."

Harry nodded as Albus stared at him with a look full of worry. With a return nod, Albus turned to the room's occupants.

"I need this half of the room to be cleared, would everyone please leave or make their way to the head table?"

While a few people got up to move, most people stared back at Albus in confused interest. Albus shrugged and pulled out his wand.

With yelps of shock, every piece of furniture quickly floated over to the head table, including the students who sitting upon the benches. The furniture quickly merged and transfigured into a fully occupied set of bleachers. Those who hadn't been seated found themselves being flung firmly (but gently) into the awaiting benches. Within one minute, the only occupants of the Great Hall not seated in the bleachers were Albus, Harry, and the Goblet of Fire.

Albus squeezed Harry's shoulder. "Good luck, Harry. Remember, you need to make it surrender. Destroying it while you are bond to it will likely kill you."

Harry pulled out the Sword of Gryffindor as Albus walked to the wall next to the bleachers, wand at the ready.

"I am speaking to the Goblet of Fire. I am Harry James Potter, bound to the Goblet of Fire. I have been falsely selected for the Triwizard Tournament, and request I be released from my binding. Will you release me?"

The blue flames brightened, flashed green twice, before returning to their normal blue hue. As he was watching the magic around him, he could see the binding was unchanged.

"Very well… I gave it a shot. I am speaking to the Goblet of Fire. I am Harry Hames Potter, bound to the Goblet of Fire. As one who is bound to you, I now have the right to challenge for control of all the bindings held by the Goblet of Fire. Therefore, I am officially invoking that right. I challenge the Goblet of Fire for control of all the bindings it holds!"

The blue flames brightened once again and then turned to an intensely dark red. Without further warning, a wall of flame shot forth from the Goblet. The wall quickly expanded in width to 20 feet and stood from the floor to 6 feet tall.

"Oh shi…"

Harry summoned himself so strongly towards the ceiling that he had to flip upside down to avoid smashing headfirst into the rafters. As his feet landed on a rafter, the wall of flame crashed into the far wall of the Hall, leaving scorch marks in the stone. Sending off half a dozen curses at the Goblet, Harry was now flying across the room avoiding a volley of fireballs that impacted loudly into the ceiling and rafters (while scorch marks were left behind, no fires were starting, though he was unsure if that was due to the Goblet's magic or Hogwarts' wards). Another half dozen fireballs were sent to intersect with his spells.

After another two dozen spells, Harry stopped with his spells. From watching the magic of the Goblet, it was clear that the magical binding with the Goblet was using Harry's own magic to detect the spells and guide the defensive fireballs. This really was like his time with the Fleshrender, as his magic was once again useless for offensive purposes, so he focused on getting closer to his fiery opponent.

Inch by inch, Harry neared closer.

Another wall of flame flew up towards the ceiling, so he dodged down to the floor, which the Goblet seemed to predict, as he found another wall rushing to intersect with him as he hit the floor. In desperation, he transfigured a patch of floor into a protective wall of stone which he ducked behind. With a thundering crash the stone wall cracked from the combined heat and speed of the flame wall, but it held. He quickly abandoned the temporary shelter.

Slowly, he moved forward. The floor, ceiling, and walls were littered with scorched and cracked transfigured walls.

Six feet away, and the Goblet had learned a new trick. A ball of flame rushed towards Harry, who quickly zigged in the air out of the way. Then, like a Bludger, the ball changed course and rushed towards his undefended back. Sensing the danger with barely any time, he twisted in mid-air and the flat of his sword unintentionally smacked into the fireball as it narrowly missed. Much to Harry's surprise, the fireball stuck to the sword for a moment as the sword's magic seemed to draw in a portion of the fireball's magic. The absorption ended nearly as quickly as it started, and then the fireball was repelled away from the sword straight into the wall behind where Albus had been standing (luckily the man had dodged away in time).

Eyes opening in shock, Harry decided to do something possibly epic in the scope of its stupidity. Preparing to dodge, Harry stopped moving. Another scorching ball of flame zoomed straight towards his head. With a swing of his sword, he connected the flat against the ball. The ball ricocheted off the sword and slammed into the ceiling. With a wide grin, Harry zoomed forward.

Five feet away, and the balls of flame were being batted away with a skill that the Quidditch Beaters in the crowd appreciated.

Three feet away, Harry zoomed away from a wall of flame, and accidentally discovered that the edge of his sword would disrupt the magic of the flame wall and cause the wall to split around harry and zoom off to the walls on either side of him.

Two feet away, Harry was now walking towards the Goblet which seemed to be desperately trying to stop his advance. A solid column of flame rushed forward, like a demonic Hogwarts Express. The Sword of Gryffindor split the column straight down the middle, reminding some of Moses parting a Red Sea made of flame. Still, Harry carefully walked slowly forward, mercilessly towards the Goblet.

With one more step, Harry lowered his sword slowly, through the torrent of magical flame, and touched the point against the Goblet.

Everything stopped. The roar of flame ceased so instantly that the silence was deafening.

All that could be heard was Harry's deep breath and the soft sound of sizzling.

Only four individuals in the room knew of the basilisk venom embedded in the blade of the sword. And now, an ancient artifact designed to enslave people for sports events had joined those in know. Harry like to think the thing was aware enough to be afraid. As for everyone else, there was great confusion as to why the Goblet was sizzling with acrid smoke wafting up from the sword's point.

"Yield!" Harry spoke softly, regaining his breath.

The dark red flames seemed to still in indecision.

"YIELD!" Harry spoke more forcefully.

The flames darkened but remained frozen in indecision. The Goblet still holding on to its bindings.

Harry stared at the flames and felt his anger rising. In those flames, he saw the Dursleys as they demanded he do so many chores around the house, while trapping him in that god-forsaken cabinet under the stairs. He saw Hedwig starving in her padlocked cage as he starved behind the bars of his own window. He saw the smirking face of Severus Snape, as the man forced Harry to dance to the bitter man's tune knowing that Harry had no power to fight back. He saw every unjust punishment, every act of forced labor, every time he was forced into actions against his will. He saw Sirius, imprisoned by a corrupt government. He saw Dobby, enslaved and enduring the cruelty of the Malfoys. He saw Remus, forced into the corners of society due to being a victim of the werewolf curse. He saw Marcus, forced to languish in a hospital bed and constantly maintain emotional control at the risk of painful death to a mystery ailment. He saw Albus, trying to do right by Harry and forced to bend to the whims of the corrupt and cruel people in power, all for the off chance of finding a way for Harry to have even a speck of happiness. But they were now free! Harry, Albus, Hedwig, and Sirius were all free. Marcus and Remus were cured. His loved ones… his family were now free! Free from curses, free from prisons, free from control! This overhyped dish wanted to change that!? NO! He would fight first… he would die first before he allowed himself or any member of his family to be controlled again! He certainly wasn't going to be controlled by some stupid cup!

With the clarity of his righteous fury, he made his decision. Either the thimble of sparks yields or it dies! The potential backlash be damned.

Harry pressed the sword's point hard into the wood of the cup, creating a gouge into an artifact that many magical researchers would have sworn was defended by magic so strong that it could never even be scratched.

"YIELD!" Harry screamed with a fury that startled many.

A moment passed.

Another.

The dark red flames changed to a light purple, flashed eight times, and the flame went out.

Seeing the bindings no longer connecting to the Goblet, here lowered his sword and looked down at his chest, where seven bindings now connected to him.

Placing his hand on his chest, he let out a soft chuckle, which sounded loudly in the silence of the room.

Looking up at the shocked faces (and the proud faces of Albus, Sirius, and Dobby), Harry grinned apologetically. "Sorry, it tickles."

"… and now you are all caught up. I have talked with the tournament organizers and dissolved their bindings. That just leaves you three."

The three proper school champions stared at Harry in disbelief, and then looked at their respective headmasters and headmistress for verification. Receiving nods of confirmation, they all looked back at Harry.

Harry smiled broadly. "Right, who wants to go first?"

With a small laugh, Cedric Diggory stepped forward. "You know, I have heard rumors about you over the years, Harry, and I always thought they were massive exaggerations. Now, I am wondering if they were underselling your adventures. Though, I suspect it's better for my sanity if I stay ignorant about the truth in that regard. What do you need me to do?"

Harry chuckled happily. "First, what is your name?"

"Cedric Diggory"

"Alright, Cedric Diggory, do you promise to give the tournament your best effort?"

"Of course!"

"Great! I believe you and you have met the terms of the contract to my satisfaction. I now release you from the magical enforcement. And… there we go, it's dissolved. You are now only bound by your own honor and common sense. Good luck! Who is next?"

A surly looking teen stepped forward. "Vell, I am thinking me. I am Victor Krum."

"Hi Victor, do you promise to give the tournament your best effort?"

"Yes"

"I accept… and the binding is dissolved. Good luck!"

Victor put up his hand to stop Harry from moving on. "Vait! You vork vith Gilderoy Lockhart, am I right?"

"… in a way, I suppose. Why?"

Victory grumbled in frustration. "He vill not accept me as a client. Vould you put in a good vord for me?"

Harry shrugged. "I could, but he can afford to be picky nowadays with his clients. But I'll write to his partner Slughorn and let him know. Just promise him some high quality Quidditch match tickets, and he'll be easily convinced to give you some training for dealing with the press. If you can handle a one-on-one interview with Rita Skeeter after that, you'll likely impress Gilderoy enough to bring you on as a client. I'll send the letter tonight. Sound good?"

Victor nodded stiffly. "Very. Thank you, Harry Potter!"

"You're welcome. I guess that leaves you, miss…"

A beautiful blonde teen stepped forward, and Harry did his best to stamp down on his raging hormones. "I am Fleur Delacour"

"Delacour… Do you know a Gabrielle Delacour?"

"Oui! Yes! She is mon sister"

Harry smiled as he silently thanked Albus for his time being immersed in the French language as he changed languages.

"Would you prefer to speak in French?"

Fleur smiled brightly (shut up, stupid hormones!) "You speak French?"

"I get by. Please, just don't talk too quickly or say anything too complex."

"Of course. How do you know Gabrielle?"

"She is apparently a fan of the Boy Who Lived books, and I have replied to a fair number of her letters."

Fleur's eyes widened in shock. "Those letters are really from you? I told her that it was just one of the employees at the Lockhart firm. She was quite upset."

Harry frowned. "Oh, is that why I haven't heard from her in a while? Give me a moment."

A couple minutes later, Harry walked back in the room, trailed by a third year Gryffindor holding a camera.

"Fleur, this is Collin Creevey. He is the resident photographer at Hogwarts. Let's take a picture together. Here is a quick letter I just wrote to Gabrielle telling her it is really me and I miss her letters. Once Collin develops the picture, he'll give it to you so that you can send the picture and my letter. No little girl should have her heart broken like that, not if I can help it."

With a grateful smile, and kiss to the cheek (and quickly tamping down some thoughts about said kiss), the picture was taken and soon the final binding was dissolved.

A relieved Harry Potter walked back into the Great Hall to see Albus casually holding the Sword of Gryffindor as he stood next to the Goblet of Fire and answered questions from the students in the still transfigured bleachers.

"All done, Albus!"

"What?" Albus swung around in what appeared to be a state of surprise. As he swung, his arm holding the sword angled up just enough so that its path had it slicing right through the unlit Goblet (which surely must have been an accident).

"Oh dear!" Albus exclaimed as he bent down to examine the larger portion of Goblet, while clearly forgetting he was still holding the sword as he accidentally stabbed the dead center of the remaining fragment and was unable to remove the sword until the exact moment when every speck of magic had been burned away from the artifact making it utterly irreparable.

Albus looked down remorsefully at the magical artifact that he had just destroyed (obviously completely by accident) and then looked up at the shocked Ministry representative.

"My apologies Ludo, but I am afraid Harry and I have a portkey to catch. You can take care of clearing up this mess, can't you? What am I saying, obviously you can, and I am sorry for implying otherwise. I have every confidence in you, and I appreciate your understanding in how accidents like this can happen, especially as we all become a little clumsier in our old age. It is a load off my mind that, as a Ministry official, you have officially ruled this as an accident. I will make sure Gilderoy, and Horrace hear of your understanding and compassionate nature regarding this most tragic of accidents."

Before Ludo could respond, Harry, Albus, Sirius, and Dobby were already out the front door and walking toward the front gates at a brisk rate.

Harry looked over at Albus with bemused fondness. "We have a portkey to catch? You're the one making the portkey!"

"And we have to catch it when I make it. It would be an awful waste of magic to not do so."

"You're a horrible liar, Albus."

"If you prefer, we could skip the beaches of Australia and stay here for several months sitting through a Ministry inquiry."

"… well, accidents happen"

A minute later, they reached the front gates and were outside of the wards of Hogwarts. Albus picked up a stick to make a portkey. Harry turned around to see the Ministry Representative running out of the front gates, waving frantically at the four of them. Well… the man probably just wanted to wish them a safe journey. That was certainly nice of him. Harry grabbed the stick, smiled, and waved a fond farewell back to the Ludo fellow as he felt the magic hook onto his navel.

Next stop… Australia.