Chapter 1
Out of the Hospital Wing, early in the morning, Harry made his way to the Gryffindor common room. The fire was low, and the light streaming through the large windows as grey.
He walked toward the windows facing the Forbidden Forest.
It had been a long day and an even longer night.
Harry was exhausted, depressed, and looking for an escape from his thoughts.
Cedric had been a brave Hufflepuff, but he had still died. Scum like Voldemort don't care who they kill, Harry snarled to himself.
The thought only depressed him further, leaving him without the energy to attempt the stairs.
His eyes roamed around the room and settled on one of the plushy armchairs. Might as well be comfortable before everyone wakes up.
As soon as he sat down, he was asleep.
"Harry...Harry! Harry, are you alright?"
He snapped his eyes open, his entire body tensed before he realized where he was.
Cautiously, Hermione touched his shoulder. "Are you alright Harry? You were having a bad dream," she frowned with concern.
Harry shrugged, dropping his eyes. "I'm fine. What are you doing here?" he asked, grumpily.
"I was coming to see you in the Hospital Wing, but instead I found you here. Why didn't you stay put last night? Madam Pomfrey will be worried," she said softly.
"Sorry Hermione," Harry sighed, tilting his head back. "I'm...not feeling well, but I couldn't stand the Hospital Wing anymore."
Hermione looked at him for a moment. She nodded thoughtfully. Harry looks awful, as expected, I suppose. Perhaps, a distraction would help.
"Come with me," she said and started walking toward the portrait door.
A bewildered look passed over Harry's face before he hurried after her.
"Well, this is a surprise," Harry said slowly, with a small smile hovering around the corners of his mouth.
"The S.P.E.W representative taking me to see house elves. How scandalous." he continued.
Hermione gave a toss of her hair and tickled the pear. As the door swung open she said, "I thought if anything could cheer you, it would be house elves and good food."
"Harry Potter, sir! What is you doing here?" Dobby called in surprise from the near the fireplace.
"Hello Dobby. I'm not sure why I'm here yet," he said with a curious look at Hermione.
She smiled a mischievous look on her face. "We are hoping to have an indoor picnic Dobby. Could we have some sandwiches, please?" She turned to Harry and saw his confused look.
"We haven't had much time to talk, you and I. Even if you don't want to talk about yesterday, I'd still like to talk about other things."
Slightly surprised, Harry paused before replying. "Of course. I suppose we both have been busy," he said, a smile widening on his face.
Dumbledore moved away from his window, the bright morning sunlight glinting off his white hair and beard.
He sighed to himself, thinking of the times to come. His thoughts were focused on the summer and all the possible moves his adversary, and former student, could make. A ringing tone echoed through the office, and he quickly moved toward the fireplace.
"Poppy, what brings you to my fireplace this morning?" he asked, a congenial smile on his face.
"Drop the pleasantries, Albus. The Potter boy has escaped the Infirmary, again," she said quickly.
He sighed, "Give me but a moment Poppy." Turning to his desk, he pulled a paper off one leaning stack.
"Harry Potter is currently in the kitchens with Hermione Granger." Turning back to the fireplace, he said, "There now. Nothing to worry about, after all," he said.
A variety of expression crossed the healer's face before settling on repressed frustration.
"Be it on your head then, if he falls ill before the day is out," she said firmly before closing the floo connection.
Dumbledore leaned back from the fireplace, a sad look on his face.
"The boy deserves some happiness while he can," Albus murmured to himself.
"So Fudge gave you the prize money anyway?" Ron asked.
Harry shook himself and turned away from the train window. Outside, Hogwarts grew increasingly distant. For once, I'm not sure how sad I am about leaving Hogwarts, he thought scowling.
"Yeah, the Minister said that, technically, I won the tournament," Harry said softly.
The grimace still on his face, he thought about the 1000 galleons the Minister had shoved into his hands. The money still made his stomach roll over unpleasantly.
He glanced at Hermione, thinking of the past week. She had been the one to talk him through his depression over the money, and Cedric's murder. His eyes grew a little brighter at what he decided to do with the money.
Before getting on the train that morning, Harry had cornered the Weasley twins and forced the money on them.
He had demanded that they do something good with the money, so that something positive would come out of Cedric's death.
He smiled a bit and realized both Hermione and Ron was staring at him.
"Err. What?" he asked.
"Nothing, you just blanked out there for a minute," Hermione said carefully.
Harry forced a slightly bigger smile onto his face to reassure them.
"I'm alright. You'll both write to me this summer, right?" Harry's eyebrows rose expectantly.
"Of course, mate. We won't abandon you to the clods you live with," Ron said indignantly.
"Good. Well then, let's play Exploding Snap 'til the trolley comes round," Harry replied, a true smile replacing the fake one.
Well, Hermione thought, maybe he'll be alright after all.
Chapter 2
Home again, Hermione found herself thinking with relief. It was still strange being away from her parents. They had been all she had while growing up. No friends, no pets, only books, and her family. I wonder why I'm in such an introspective mood. Her brows drew together; as she realized that much of the last week had been spent thinking about family, friends, and death. Time to fix this.
"How was he Sirius? Do you think he'll be able to handle the Dursleys?" Remus asked.
Molly Weasley overheard Remus's question as she walked toward the kitchen. Poor things, the three of them. She couldn't stop the prickle behind her eyes as she thought about the trials they'd all face ahead. We've still got Dumbledore, she consoled herself. Sirius Black's ancestral home did nothing alleviate her fears. The walls of the house seemed to close in on her as she made her way. Almost there now.
As she pushed open the door to the kitchen, Albus' bright blue eyes twinkled at her. Immediately, she felt almost comically relieved. "Albus Dumbledore, this is an absolutely dreadful house, and an even worse choice of meeting place," she said sternly.
"Ah, Molly. I know, I know. Here, sit. The others will arrive shortly," the Headmaster rose from the chair at the head of the table and turned toward the fireplace.
"Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall," the Headmaster cried, while throwing the fluorescent green floo powder on the flames. When the flames grew bright green, he knelt and placed his head into the flames.
"Albus, I was about to call Severus. We'll be there within twenty minutes," the Deputy Headmistress said hurriedly.
"Of course, Minerva. Remind Filius and Pomona that they are welcome, as well," Dumbledore backed out of the grate and closed the connection.
Always on top of everything, Minerva, Dumbledore thought fondly. Contacting the Gryffindor Head led his thoughts to Harry. Poor boy, I'll have to tell him soon. I should have told him before now.
His musings were interrupted by a slamming sound coming from above.
"Well Molly, I believe our Auror contingent has arrived," he said with a smile lighting up his sombre face.
The Weasley matriarch chuckled, "Tonks, she's always been that way."
"What way?" the woman in question exclaimed as she entered the kitchen.
"Clumsy. Horribly, terribly clumsy, my dear cousin," Sirius said with a wide smile.
Following him, Remus Lupin shook his head at the young Auror's expression. "Relax Tonks. You know how he is."
"Humph," was all she said as she fell into a seat.
Kingsley Shacklebolt and Alastor Moody strode through the door next. The pair of them acknowledged the Headmaster's nod and quietly took seats.
Albus slowly sat down in his chair, contemplating, as the kitchen filled with witches and wizards. Am I too old to lead? If I'm too old, then certainly Harry is too young. As a frown overtook his face, the remaining stragglers trickled in. Eventually, the room was quiet and still.
The Headmaster surveyed the room. "I believe it's time we begin."
Harry hated his relatives. If there were anyone he hated more, it was most likely Voldemort. This summer was already going worse than the summer Dobby had stopped his mail. He leaned against the wall of his room, a deep scowl on his face.
His aunt and uncle had picked him up from King's Cross in complete silence. When they had arrive home, his uncle immediately spat out all the new rules for living in their home. They were clearly still incensed about what Harry termed the Marge Incident.
Cleaning and taking care of odd jobs around the house wasn't so awful. Demanding he stay in his bedroom the rest of the time wasn't unexpected, but their treatment was unfair and still stung. Harry took off his glasses, wondering at the strength of his headache. 'I might as well sleep until Aunt Petunia calls me for dinner.' He toed off his shoes and fell into an uneasy slumber.
When he opened his eyes again, the room was dark. Strange, multicoloured lights shone through the window. He rolled out of bed and stepped over to the window. The sight that greeted him was not Privet Drive. He was overlooking the graveyard of the third task, and the lights were spells cast by himself and Voldemort.
"What is this? Harry said, quickly stumbling away from the window.
He backed into another person and whirled around to face them. "Wha' the hell? Mum..." Harry's mouth dropped open in disbelief.
"What is going on? Is this a dream?" Harry backed away from the woman who appeared to be his mother. "This is not possible. You're not possible!"
The woman stepped toward him, a small, sad smile gracing her lips. "Yes, Harry, this is a sort of dream. Or at least, you're reliving your battle with Voldemort in your sleep. However, I've appeared in this particular dream as a representation of the residual love magic left in your system."
"Err. So, what are you supposed to be doing?" Harry asked with confusion lacing his words.
"Forgive me. I'll try to be clear. The spell your mother placed on you protected you from Voldemort's touch. That protection has been breached." A frown crossed her face as she continued, "As such, the spell is altering. The power you had to attack Voldemort will be channelled into your own magical strength and talents, instead."
Harry interrupted her, "Wait, I'll be more powerful? Why not make it that way in the first place?" He shifted to sitting on the corner of his bed, his arms crossed sceptically.
"I do not know the answer to that. I am only a representation of your mother's spell," she said apologetically.
"Oh. Err, well, thank you for telling me...will I see you again?" he asked, a hopeful expression lighting up his eyes.
"I would not think so, Harry," she smiled again. "I believe, however, that you will find yourself too busy to worry about me, soon enough. After all, you'll be fifteen soon."
"Yes, but what does that have to with anything?" Harry asked.
"You'll see. Time to wake up now," she smiled once more and snapped her fingers.
Harry opened his mouth, but as he blinked, she disappeared and the lighting in the room changed. Somehow, he found himself lying down again. Harry looked around the room, bewildered. "Where did she go? Was that just a dream?" he asked the air.
He heard a sharp rap at the door, and his uncle's voice followed.
"Potter! Get your lazy arse out of bed. Come make dinner boy," his uncle shouted, before stomping back down the stairs.
Harry sat up and swung his legs off the bed onto the floor. The dream made no sense, he decided, but he had no idea what to do about it. Lifting his hands, he scrubbed his face vigorously. 'Alright. I'll make dinner, and then write to Sirius and Hermione. They might be able to figure this out.'
Before he left the room, he peered out the window. The back garden of Number 2 Privet Drive greeted him. 'At least that part was a dream.' The thought reassured him a bit, as he walked toward his relatives.
Hedwig soared through the sky, the light of the moon reflecting off her wings. The House of the Dog-man was difficult to find, but eventually the magic of the house let the owl in.
She swooped to the first open window she could find. Landing on the desk, she saw only sleeping redheads in the room. The owl flapped through the open doorway and made her way toward the place with the loudest noise.
"Hedwig!" Remus stood up from the kitchen table. "How did you get inside, girl?"
"That's Harry's owl, isn't it Dad?" Bill Weasley asked his father.
"Yes. Yes, it is. Hagrid picked out a very smart owl for the boy," Arthur responded with surprise in his voice.
"It's addressed to you Sirius," Remus passed the letter to the man. "Do you want some water Hedwig?" Remus asked, already pouring some water into a bowl. The owl bobbed her head into the dish a few times before taking flight once more.
Sirius opened the letter as Hedwig left.
Dear Padfoot,
I hope you're alright, wherever you are. I wanted to tell you about a dream I had
this afternoon. I was in my room at the Dursley's, but outside my window
Voldemort and I were fighting. Behind me, this woman who looked like Mum was
telling me about love magic. She said that I'd be more powerful because Mum's old
spell on me is changing. And what happens when I turn fifteen? I hope you'll be
able to write back.
Harry
Sirius blinked and quickly read the letter again. Remus moved closer to read over his shoulder. After they finished, both men looked at each other and sighed.
"You'll need to write back and ask for more detail Sirius," Remus frowned, thinking. "Albus has said something about Lily and love magic, but I can't quite remember," he murmured to himself.
"It prevented Voldemort from touching him. But what's this about Harry turning fifteen?" Sirius growled. "How would Harry have a dream about that?" he said, running his hand through his hair in frustration. "I'm supposed to tell him about that with Albus in a few weeks."
The other three men exchanged befuddled looks before Sirius folded the letter saying, "I need to floo call Albus, excuse me."
"I haven't a clue as to what Sirius was rambling about. I'll be going to bed then. Goodnight Arthur, Bill," Remus nodded to them as he left the kitchen. He wondered about what the letter meant and worried about Harry's dream. Perhaps I'll just write a letter to Harry myself.
Chapter 3
Harry looked up at the ceiling, wondering when Hedwig would fly through the window. What would Sirius have to say about his dream? Thinking about the sequence grew stranger and stranger, and Harry felt silly for writing it down. But what was he supposed to do? He'd never had a dream about his mother before.
Rolling into his side, he closed his eyes in an attempt to ignore the sounds of the Dursleys waking up. He knew one of them would be by soon. A thump sounded on his door at that moment. Harry sighed and pushed himself out of bed.
"I'm up already," he grumbled. Damn Dursleys, can't do anything without their very own houseboy, he thought, tightening his lips and readying himself to face his family.
Moving to the wardrobe at the foot of the bed, his thoughts fell back toward the dream. Should probably write it down before I forget anything else about it. As he picked out a shirt and a pair of jeans, he wondered how his friends were doing. Maybe I should write to Cho, Dumbledore's talk at the leaving feast didn't tell her anything.
While Harry contemplated this, Hermione was thinking of quite a different matter.
Urgh. How do I word this? She was attempting to turn down Viktor Krum's offer to visit Bulgaria. She and her parents had decided not to go on their annual summer holiday. When she told her parents that she wanted to visit her school friends throughout the summer, instead, it started a conversation about the entire TriWizard tournament.
Eventually, Hermione revealed that one of the student competitors had been murdered, and her own best friend had nearly shared the same fate. A running argument about the school's safety lasted the first week of her vacation. Finally. They're ready to settle down now, I hope.
Harry's letter had sat, opened, on her desk, with Hedwig occasionally coming to her window to check for any replies. "Sorry Harry," she said, looking over the letter again. The dream was quite out of the ordinary, even for Harry. Before she sat down to reply, she walked over to the bookcases in the far corner of the room. Harry could use one of my blank journals. Though I suppose he'll feel uncomfortable with a lavender one. She smirked and chose a deep, royal blue instead. Journal in hand, she crossed the room and sat down in front of a blank sheet.
Dear Harry,
I'm sorry about making you wait so long for a reply! I read through your letter several times, and I'm starting to believe that this was not just one of your normal dreams. Unfortunately, I know very little on love magic, or blood magic for that matter. But, I have read that old, magical families like the Potters sometimes had specific spells to protect the first-born child. Maybe we can start our search there. Do you know anything about the history of your family? Even if you don't, Padfoot and Moony will likely have some hints. Enough about that. I'm sending you a diary so that you can write down any more dreams and your findings.
Love from,
Hermione
She read the letter once more before rolling it up. Turning to the journal, she lifted the cover and quickly scratched a note on the first page. There. Now to write Ron before Hedwig comes back.
Very far from Hermione's neighbourhood, a man with glowing crimson eyes stood looking down at a steep drop. The waves crashed upon each other and on the sheer cliff face. Lord Voldemort turned away from the spray and surveyed his party. A tall, lanky black-haired man stood near a platinum blonde. Both men held themselves stiffly, as if to avoid shivering.
"My Lord, how may we serve you?" Snape asked first, his eyes focused on a point near the hem of his Master's robe.
"Always eager to please, aren't you, Severus Snape," Voldemort's tone made the words sound like an accusation and a curse. His red eyes smouldered, and a smirk grew, as the professor seemed to cave the slightest bit.
"No matter. You will serve, and well, despite your shortcomings," Voldemort nodded to Lucius Malfoy as he continued. "We will be changing our tactics in this phase of our war. I require both of you to advise me in strategy."
Here he beckoned them to follow him away from the cliff. As they walked, he elaborated, "Hogwarts will be of increased importance in the near future, and as such I will need detailed reports on both teachers and students, Severus."
His face blank, the professor replied, "Of course my Lord."
"How might I assist you then, my Lord?" Lucius jumped in.
"You are well-versed in the politics of the Ministry. As a pureblood, you will have much sway with politicians who do not yet support my cause. We will need them soon," only slight irritation shaded the wizard's tone as he answered.
The two servants glanced at each other as they reached a door. The wooden door was unremarkable, save that it stood alone. No walls or any other structure surrounded it. Voldemort looked back at the two men and laughed mockingly.
"For all your vaunted pure blood, you know very little about magic," the evil wizard sneered condescendingly, "I will change all that."
With that, he pushed open the door and led the way inside.
Harry sat at his desk, waiting for his turn at the shower. His aunt had kept him busy at work all day, but she seemed to lack much of the viciousness of previous years. 'She really was alright today. Even gave me a hat and sunscreen. I'd wonder who Imperio'd her, but she still treats Dudley the same.'
Hearing the water shut off in the bathroom, Harry stood to gather his towel. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of white. 'Hedwig!' He opened the window happily, and the owl dropped a package on his desk before landing on her perch.
He smiled brightly, the exhaustion seeming to disappear. "What'd you bring me then?" he asked her.
Hedwig only hooted in response. Stroking her feathers fondly, he used one hand to remove the letter from her leg. Unrolling it, he scanned it briefly and began to frown.
"I really don't know anything about them," he murmured sadly. He stroked the owl's plumage one more time before putting the letter down to pick up the diary. Taking off the brown wrapping paper, his eyes widened at the deep blue leather covering the book.
"This is much nicer than I was expecting," he said, shocked. He opened the front cover and noticed Hermione's additional script.
'You deserve nice things Harry Potter. I refuse to take it back. But...you can repay me by showing me some of the songs you've written.'
He chuckled as he closed the cover. As he turned to the floorboard underneath his bed, another owl flew through the window. Harry blinked in surprise, wondering whom the letter could be from.
Carefully, he approached the owl, trying to recognize anything about it. As he came closer, he saw the Gringotts sigil, and breathed a sigh of relief.
Taking the letter from the bird, he slowly slit the envelope and pulled out the enclosure.
Mr. Harold James Potter,
We at Gringotts wish to console you on the loss of your parents. As such, we invite you to a private reading of the late James and Lily Evans Potter will. At this reading, you may bring two witnesses. The reading will occur on July 15 at 5pm.
To confirm your acceptance, please sign the bottom of this sheet. A portkey will be delivered to you.
Sincerely,
Gringotts Banking
Harry read the letter again, his mind reeling. A will reading? Doesn't that happen right after someone dies? His face scrunched up in confusion, he tugged on his hair for a moment.
"You can go. I'll be using my own owl," he said to the Gringotts bird, before turning back to the letter.
Harry sank onto his bed, an irritated scowl on his face as the owl escaped out the window.
"Do you know anything about this?" he asked Hedwig. The owl hooted softly and watched as he picked up a pen and the diary.
I suppose this will get some use, won't it. He began to write, thinking of how pleased Hermione would be.
Chapter 4
The day broke with not a gleam of sunlight to be seen. Albus walked to the window of his office, wishing for just a bit of sunlight. Sometimes, I believe there is a weather god who lives only to mock me. The thought made him smile just a bit, as he turned away from the gloomy vista just outside. All throughout Scotland, and much of Britain the weather was oppressing. For many wizards and witches, the weather reflected their suppressed fears about the Voldemort nonsense they had read in the papers.
Although the newspapers had made a point to trash Albus Dumbledore as a fear monger, the public remembered the frightening days of the last war. Any mention of a return of those days had them up late at night contemplating whether to leave the country or not. After all, who knew if the Boy-Who-Lived really could defeat You-Know-Who again.
Albus walked towards Fawkes and lifted a hand to stroke the phoenix. How calm this creature is. I wish we could all have this one's assurance. Ah, well, being safe and happy is something worth fighting for, when it comes down to it. The phoenix shifted on his perch, seeming to sense the Headmaster's melancholy. As if to cheer his Master up, the creature opened his beak, and let out a few notes. The song seemed to make every object in the room, including the Headmaster, glow with a shimmering golden light.
The Headmaster's shoulders relaxed as the song, short as it was, uplifted and energized him. "Thank you Fawkes," the Headmaster smiled with more vigour than before.
"I suppose it's time to begin on my paperwork. Perks of the job," he said with a wry look on his face. The fireplace flared to life as the Headmaster moved toward his desk. Hearing the fireplace, he quickly strode towards it, instead, and tapped his wand along to the mantle. The pattern of taps allowed the traveller through, and the wizard tumbled onto the floor.
"Severus, you've returned safely. Thank Merlin," the Headmaster bent to offer the younger wizard a hand up. With more strength than looked possible, the Headmaster pulled the Potion's Master off the floor. "Are you alright Severus? You look peaked."
"Sir…I have been with the Dark Lord, as you know. He is much changed from before," here Severus stopped, a confused look on his face. "Malfoy told me of the encounter he had with Potter in the graveyard, and from that account, the Dark Lord seemed just as obsessed with Potter as he was before his fall." Severus stopped again, his mouth working as he searched for words.
The Headmaster took the pause to push the clearly overwrought man into a plushy armchair. As soon as the younger man was seated, Albus snapped his fingers, and an elf appeared.
"Jibby is here, sirs. What can I be getting you? Do yous need breakfast?" the young elf asked quickly, looking between the two wizards.
"Good morning, Jibby. We would like some coffee, black, as well as some tea, please. Make it as quick as you can," the Headmaster ordered, a concerned look creasing his brows. When the elf popped out, he took another armchair and pulled a small table close to both of them.
"Alright, Severus. Let us begin again. Before you left, yesterday evening, you told me that a certain man had summoned you. After you arrived, what happened?" the Headmaster asked, his tone curious.
"Yes, when I arrived, it was on a cliff overlooking a sea. I had never been there, to my knowledge, nor was it anywhere He had summoned us before. After a few moments, Lucius apparated in, as well," the Potion's Master said. "The Dark Lord was silent and then began to explain that He had changed his strategies for this war. As he spoke, he led us to a door, just sitting there," the wizard stopped as a chiming sound announced the arrival of their coffee.
"I'll pour, Severus. A door you say, was it near anything?" the Headmaster asked, confused.
"No sir. The door was just floating there," Severus' face conveyed his continuing disbelief over the phenomenon. Despite living in the magical world for all his life, he had never seen anything like it. Judging by the Headmaster's face, he was dumbfounded as well. "He explained that the doorway was just a gateway, and said that from now, we would be using these doorways to meet. Sir, I have never seen anything like the place we travelled to. It seemed to be an archaic Roman home. All the rooms were full of jewels, gold, and all manner of magical artefacts. The Dark Lord took us the atrium, and instructed us in our tasks."
The Headmaster was reeling over the mention of using a gateway. He had not heard of any witch or wizard using one in more than a hundred years. The wizarding world has changed very much since I was born. How curious that Tom seeks to revive those old magics. Coming back to himself, he heard Severus continuing, "Lucius has been ordered to recruit political allies, rather than potential Death Eaters, leading me to assume that he plans to use more subtle methods, than full blown attacks. Of course, I have been ordered to watch you, the other teachers, and the students. He made no requests for any potions."
"Thank you Severus. I am glad that were able to return without any serious harm done to you. I will have to look into Voldemort's use of gateways," the Headmaster lifted his cup to drink, trying to cover his consternation, before continuing. "I must be honest; I am rather alarmed about his change in tactics. However, we must keep in mind that He has had almost fifteen years to think of plans, while we have been biding our time, hoping for the best."
Severus contemplated the Headmaster's words in silence, turning them over in his mind. "Headmaster, He never made any special mention of the Potter boy. I am not sure whether something occurred during their battle, that Lucius did not share, but the boy's safety is still a concern. He will return to him, soon enough, even if He has had fifteen years to rethink that night." Severus stopped there, thinking again, of how controlled his Lord had been. Is this a prelude to how He will act in the future?
Interrupting both wizards' thoughts, the fireplace flared green again. Dumbledore stood, chagrin standing out on his features.
"I'm sorry Severus; I did not realize that you and I had talked so long. I have another appointment to keep. Perhaps you should return to your quarters to get some rest while you can," the Headmaster said.
Severus stood, a little stiffly, and slightly irritated to see that the Headmaster still would not confide in him. Doesn't matter. I should know by now, that I'm still only a Slytherin to him. Aloud, he only said, "Of course, sir. I will see you tomorrow." Bowing, he left the room, quietly closing the heavy door after him.
Messed that up again, the Headmaster sighed to himself, as he tapped the mantle again. This time, another black haired wizard tumbled through the fire and onto the floor. This wizard, however, was much quicker to get up from his fall. Sirius Black was not smiling for once, as he greeted the venerable older man. His face was drawn into a somewhat guilty visage, instead.
"Good morning, Sirius. Thank you for being so prompt. What exactly is the matter, then?" the Headmaster asked, wondering why his former student looked so depressed.
"Harry…he sent me a letter, the day he returned to the Dursley's," Sirius mumbled, looking down at the carpet. "I brought it with me," he held the letter out to the Headmaster, and took one of the vacated seats. The animagus watched the Headmaster's face, only partially understanding the expressions crossing the man's face.
Dumbledore was in shock. How was Lily's spell interacting with Harry's dreams? What other ways will her magic affect the boy, and how has it affected Tom? Dumbledore rolled the boy's letter up and took a seat. "I need some coffee Sirius, would you like me to pour you some as well?" the Headmaster asked, trying to stem the other wizard's questions.
"No, sir, I do not want any coffee, but I do have some questions," Sirius ground out, already irritated with the older man. There he goes again. He had better give me some straight answers this time, and not push me off like last year. "Sir, I know that you and I have avoided talking about certain things in the past, but this letter makes me believe that putting off those topics, is no longer an option."
Dumbledore sighed. "I understand, but before I explain my actions, I would like you to promise to allow me to finish before you ask anything. I'll even give you some paper and a quill," the Headmaster said, trying for humour. Sirius' grim, determined expression let him know that the attempt had fallen flat.
"Alright, well, the night James and Lily were killed, Severus came to me with a tale about Voldemort knowing the Potter's location. I assumed that it was likely too late, but I went with Minerva, Hagrid, and Severus to see what could be done. Of course, we came upon destruction… and little Harry. I took Harry with me to Hogwarts, and began trying to find the Potter will. You remember that before we performed the Fidelius, James and Lily wrote out another will. As I could not find the will that very evening, I had Hagrid take Harry to his Aunt's home. By then, you had been incarcerated, and Remus had hidden himself away."
Albus paused to take a sip of his coffee before taking a deep breath to continue, "I went to Gringotts the next day, to speak to the goblins about the Potter will. I was told that the will would be read, when the Potter heir came of age. Of course, I told them that it would be seventeen years before the will could be settled. However, they were obstinate that Harry must be of age, before the matter could be settled. So, I made it possible for Harry to stay with his maternal relatives."
Finished with his portion, Albus relaxed somewhat into his chair, wishing Fawkes would sing again. Sirius also sat back into his chair, a strange look coming over his face. I wonder whether James convinced Lily…
"Headmaster, you are a pureblood, yes?" Sirius asked slowly. The Headmaster nodded, "Your parents were very thorough in some areas of your education, weren't they Sirius," the Headmaster's tone made the words not a question.
Sirius smiled, but it was more of a pained grimace. "Of course they were, sir. They couldn't have an uneducated heir, but it didn't matter after all, now did it. But, I asked because James may have convinced Lily to invoke a very old concept. You remember the Council of Wizards, don't you, sir?" Sirius finished an expectant look on his face.
"…I do, yes. It would be a rather difficult thing to convince Lily to do, but I suppose that he was counting on you being around for Harry, in case they didn't make it," the Headmaster said, a distant look coming into his eyes.
"Yes, well, if he thought it would keep Harry safe, or at least put him into a position of power, James would not have hesitated. We both know that Harry would have more power to protect himself, if the Council were reinstated. Although, I can't help but be surprised at the idea. The Potter's were the family to break the tradition, after all," Sirius said a troubled look on his face.
Putting Harry into that position would give him more power, but it would also make him even more of a target. What could they have been thinking? I suppose they trusted Sirius very much. The Headmaster shifted in his chair, bringing a hand up to stroke his beard. "Sirius, I have something that I have been meaning to share with you, and with Harry."
"Before James and Lily put themselves under the Fidelius, I came to them about a prophecy I had heard regarding their son. The prophecy explained that Harry was fated to be targeted by the evil wizard of our times, and that neither he nor the wizard could live while the other survived. After they and I had discussed it, Lily asked that I not share the prophecy with anyone else; because she believed it would place too much responsibility on their family. I am sharing it with you now, because Voldemort has heard enough of the prophecy to make Harry his primary target in this war," Dumbledore concluded.
Sirius listened to the other man, hearing the truth in his words. "If that is the case, sir, then we should be telling Harry this. He's a brave kid; he doesn't need to be coddled. Especially after the events of the third task…"
"Given what I read in this letter, I believe that we will see some very different talents manifesting in Harry this year," the former teacher said with a sparkle in his eye. Indeed, Lily was a very powerful witch, who knows what power she was able to pass to her son, Dumbledore thought to himself. "Sirius, we will have another meeting with others at the end of this week, perhaps you should meet with Harry before then and explain some of this to him."
"I think I will, though I'll write him first. I've kept him waiting long enough for a reply. Thank you, sir." Sirius rose from his chair, some of his bounce restored. Well, I think Harry will be quite shocked with this one, but maybe it'll make him happy to know that his parents were looking out for him. He stepped over the fireplace, and waved at the Headmaster, before throwing down floo powder and calling out 'The Burrow'.
The Headmaster watched another former student leave, a distant expression in his eyes. Perhaps I should contact some of my old friends…
While the Headmaster examined an old text about the Council of Wizards, Harry was standing outside wondering why it wouldn't rain. I don't really mind taking care of the garden, but this weather is getting stupid. It should really just rain already. Oh well, he thought to himself. Kneeling down, he took the end of the hose and dragged to the front of the house. The grass soaked up the water almost greedily after Harry began to spray it. After a few moments, his thoughts began to wander.
The letter from Gringotts had been shared with Hermione, and they had decided that both of them should attend the reading. Unfortunately, Hermione had exhausted her not small collection of books on wizarding traditions. She had suggested several times that they ask Sirius or Remus for help, but Harry had been obstinate about not writing either of them. He wanted Sirius to write back, before he communicated with his godfather again.
I wish he would get back to me, Harry thought wistfully before he noticed that the grass looked quite flooded. Oops, guess I need to move on. The day was slowly getting hotter, and drier, even though it still looked overcast. As the temperature rose, Harry mulled over the use he had gotten out of Hermione's gift. The small book had slowly filled with his thoughts, both sketches and written entries. The Dursley's had never encouraged Harry in any of his pursuits; so any talents Harry had besides magic, he kept firmly under wraps. He had never shared with anyone, besides Hermione, that he knew how to read music and how to draw, and occasionally wrote songs. The diary helped him explore those talents, and helped him work out his guilt over Cedric Diggory's death.
Though he had not dreamed of his mother again, he had relived the third task in his nightmares. Usually, Harry ended up writing them down, as well as any thoughts he had after waking up. He found that actually writing down how he felt was easier than bottling everything up. Hermione's influence again, Ron'll think I've gone 'mental', Harry thought with a fond smile. As he worked, he failed to notice a shadow falling over him.
Something large gave Harry a firm shove, pushing him face first into the wet grass. "Hey freak," Dudley Dursley said, not a hint of remorse in his voice, "Mum's wanting you."
Pushing himself up quickly, Harry turned around sharply and gave his cousin a scorching look. "Whatever," Harry snapped, his peace interrupted. The irate boy stomped off toward the side of the house, dragging the hose back with him. Stupid cousin, you'd think he could've just shouted at me. Harry quickly coiled the hose and placed it on its hook before striding to the back door. At the door, he took off his shirt and shoes, and scrubbed his face with his hands, to get some of the mud off. Useless, he thought with irritation.
"Aunt Petunia, I'm in the back," he called as he stepped through the door. Petunia came up to him and immediately wrinkled her nose at his muddy pants and arms.
"I received a letter from one of your you-know-what users," the woman hissed, her tone clearly conveying her annoyance. "They told me to clear out my family by three this afternoon, if I didn't want to see any you-know-what. I don't know what you ridiculous people will be doing, but everything had better be the same when we return. And take a shower, you nasty boy." With that, Harry's aunt turned away, her posture betraying how scandalized she was.
For his part, Harry was confused. Why were there wizards coming to Privet Drive? Sighing, he went to pick up his ratty old trainers and shirt, before taking his shower. I guess I'll just have to see who shows up.
Harry stood at the kitchen sink, washing dishes as he waited for three o'clock to come around. As he stared down at the dishes, he wondered again, who was coming by, and why they hadn't warned him. I have my wand, and well… the kitchen is full of knives, Harry thought, a smile playing around his lips. The doorbell rang at that moment, and Harry glanced at the clock. Well they're prompt, aren't they?
He walked to the front door, preparing to draw his wand if necessary. When he looked through the window on the side of the door, the man outside appeared to be Remus Lupin, accompanied by a large, black dog. Harry smiled and pulled the door open.
"Professor! Snuffles! What are you doing here?" Harry asked, completely surprised. Maybe this is why they didn't write, they wanted to surprise me, he thought happily.
"Hello, Harry. Might we come in? Padfoot and I have been looking forward to seeing you," Remus smiled at the diminutive young man. He'll be growing faster soon, I hope. Walking into the house, Harry closed the door behind them and watched as Sirius reversed his transformation.
"Watching you do that never gets old Sirius," Harry said, coming forward to embrace both men. "Why are you here? Did you get my letter? Do you know what's going on?" Harry asked, leading them toward the kitchen.
Taking seats around the table, Remus tried to answer first, "Yes, we both read your letter Harry, and after talking to Dumbledore about some issues, Sirius realized that your dream somehow represented something your father and mother did to their will."
At his answer, felt a little confused. How did they know about the will reading? Maybe Gringotts owled them, as well. "Oh, well… what do you think is going on then?"
Sirius took a deep breath and then began to explain everything he and Dumbledore had discussed that morning. As Harry listened, he felt increasingly anxious. What am I supposed to do about all this?