Pirates of the Caribbean 2Cellos
Chapter 1
"BOY! GET DOWN HERE!"
Harry slid off his bed and started to the door. He was expecting Dumbledore that evening, and had made the mistake of telling the Dursleys.
"Yes, Uncle Vernon?"
"When is… this… Dumbly-dorn getting here? And he's taking you away?" Vernon asked hopefully.
"Yes."
"DON'T TAKE THAT TONE WITH ME, BOY!"
Harry seethed. "Yes, sir."
"That's better," Vernon sneered. "Now where are you going, when he takes you? It's not time for you to go to that freakish school of yours."
Harry managed to keep from rolling his eyes. " No sir, it's not. I don't know where he's taking me."
Harry had gotten a letter from Dumbledore telling him to be ready today, and that he would be dropping him off when they were done. Unfortunately, he had not said where he was going or what they were doing. Just another time where Dumbledore decided that the information isn't something I need to know, Harry thought savagely.
Just then the doorbell rang. Even though Dumbledore had kept the prophecy from Harry for five years, Harry was still glad he was getting him away from the Dursleys.
Vernon yanked open the door to find a tall, thin man looking down to him from over his spectacles. Harry struggled to keep from laughing, Vernon looked like a first-year caught looking into the girl's bathrooms. Harry, of course, did not mention this to him.
"Hello, Mr. Dursley," said Dumbledore pleasantly. " You have not said a word of greeting, but let's assume you have invited me into the house," he said as he swept past Vernon into the house. Summoning an armchair, Dumbledore settled himself in, then smiled.
"Thank you, Mr Dursley. It does not do to dwell on doorsteps. Now," he said, with an air of getting business started, he turned to Harry. "Harry, you are aware that Hogwarts is in need of a new teacher-"
"Yeah, for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Because Umbridge is in a coma or something, right?" Said Harry, remembering the previous year.
Dumbledore opened his mouth to reply, but before he had said a word, Vernon, who had been watching this exchange, interrupted. "Coma? Who's in a coma?" He looked hopeful that Harry would become comatose as well.
Dumbledore smiled, misunderstanding. "Mr. Dursley, don't worry. Harry will be safe this year, and return to you at the end of the year." Vernon looked positively depressed at that.
Turning back to Harry, Dumbledore said, "And no, Harry, we are actually going to try to persuade one of my old colleagues to come to Hogwarts and teach."
Harry was confused. "Well then, what do you need me for?"
"Oh, I'm sure we'll find a use for you," Dumbledore said absentmindedly.
They sat in silence for a second, then Dumbledore stood up, signaling to Harry it was time to go.
"Well, thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Dursley. Me and Harry are going to leave now is that alright?"
Vernon looked like he wanted to say, no, it's not alright, just to spite Dumbledore. But he wanted Harry out, so he just stayed quiet.
"Okay, Harry, let's go."
Dumbledore and Harry walked out into the cool night air, and while Harry was reveling in the wind, Dumbledore pulled out his wand and said quietly, "Portus."
Turning to Harry, Dumbledore asked, "You have traveled by Portkey, right, Harry?"
Harry decided not to mention the Triwizard Tournament, and instead said, "Yeah, to go to the Quidditch World Cup. Are we traveling by portkey, Professor?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Yes, Harry. We are going to a nice muggle neighborhood, where my friend, who used to work at Hogwarts, now lives. Now grab on to this, Harry," He said, holding out a paper.
Harry glanced at it when grabbing on. He saw the word portkey, and asked about it. "Sir, why does this say portkey on it?"
"Ah, yes. That. You see, Harry, Cornelius Fudge does not trust me."
"But he saw Voldemort at the Ministry of Magic! Is he really that thick?" Harry said incredulously.
"Harry, do not speak ill of the Minister," Dumbledore interrupted sharply.
"But Professor-"
"No, Harry. The minister is simply suffering from the aftermath of realizing that his job will be much harder from now on. Not to mention, the common populace is demanding that he get thrown from office."
"Good," Harry said savagely. "Serves him right."
"Ok, Harry, grab on to this," said Dumbledore, holding out the paper again. Harry hadn't noticed, but he had let go and crossed his arms. He hastily grabbed the paper as they were pulled into-
well, wherever they were going.
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They came out in a muggle neighborhood not unlike Privet Drive, in the way that all the lawns were mown and trimmed meticulously, and all the houses were nearly identical. There was only one difference in any of the houses: one had it's door blown open and it was barely hanging on by the top hinge.
"Er- Professor, is that where we are going?" Asked Harry hesitantly. Dumbledore, who had been looking around the neighborhood happily, as if thrilled his portkey had worked, looked to see where Harry was pointing and his eyes narrowed.
"Yes Harry. I had been planning to use Homulus Revelio but I see that that would have been quite unnecessary," He replied gravely.
Harry instinctively pulled out his wand, and followed Dumbledore toward the wreckage.
Stepping over the demolished doorstep, Harry and Dumbledore looked around the living room, Harry gaping in horror. Whatever had happened here was brutal. There were slashes on the walls, splattered with blood. There was broken glass littering the floor, and what looked like a coffee table was jutting out of the wall, as if whatever had been here had thrown it at the wall in anger. In the middle of it all was an overturned armchair, which looked slightly out of place in the mess.
"Sir, what happened here?" Whispered Harry, looking into the kitchen, which apart from a few dishes broken on the floor, looked relatively untouched.
"Well, Harry," Said Dumbledore, bending over the armchair, "Whoever lived here obviously was not welcome… unless…"
And with that, he jabbed his wand into the seat of the chair, which emitted a very loud "Ouch!" and transfigured into a fat man squatting on the floor.
"You didn't have to do it so hard, you know!" retorted the man, while standing up and brushing himself off. When he was done with that he grimaced and held his stomach, looking around.
"Who the bloody hell are you?" said Harry, resorting to Ron's usual curse words.
The man looked at Harry. "The better question is, who are you?" replied the man. He set about cleaning up the mess. "Children… no respect these days…"
"I'll show you respect if I think you deserve it!" yelled Harry, the anger from the summer at the Dursleys that had been simmering up until this moment boiling over.
"Harry, please," said Dumbledore. "This is Horace Slughorn, a man who used to work at Hogwarts as a professor of Potions."
"Harry?" gasped Slughorn, turning away from the coffee table he had been examining."You don't mean..." He trailed off, his eyes sliding up to Harry's bangs, which were hiding his scar.
Harry sighed. "Potter, yeah." He pushed his hair back to expose his scar to Slughorn's eyes.
"Fascinating…" He said, gaping at it. Losing his awareness to where he was, he started walking to the side and bumped into Dumbledore. "Oh… sorry, Dumbledore…"
Dumbledore chuckled. "No trouble at all, Horace. Now I'm sure you know why we are here-"
"Oh yes," sneered Slughorn. "You want me to come back and teach at Hogwarts. Well, I'm not interested, Dumbledore! Death Eaters at every turn, trying to grab me… only last week, if I hadn't been with Willy, I wouldn't have gotten away…"
"Ah, so Death Eaters are after you, Horace?" asked Dumbledore conversationally. "Well, you do know Hogwarts is safer than even Gringotts. They wouldn't-"
"Oh, yes they would, Dumbledore!" Slughorn interrupted. "Are you blind to what's been happening in your own school? And you want me to come back when you yourself fought him only a couple months ago!"
"Yes, well… anyway, would you like help cleaning up this mess?"
Slughorn blinked, surprised at the sudden change of subject. It was not like Dumbledore to give up so easily. "Well, yes. I suppose," he said, still looking at Dumbledore inquisitively.
"Well, then," said Dumbledore pleasantly, and with that, they turned so they were back to back, and chanting an incantation under their breath, they gave their wands a wave and starting fixing the furniture and cleaning the walls. Harry watched in amazement, it never failed to shock him what magic was capable of.
When they were done, Slughorn brushed past him to the wall behind him, and Harry, turning around, realized the wall behind him was the only part that had not been repaired and cleaned.
"Oh- sorry-"
"It's quite alright, Harry," said Dumbledore reassuringly. "Horace, do you have a bathroom i can use?"
"Oh, yeah…" said Slughorn absentmindedly. "Up the stairs and to the left, and don't mess with anything!"
Harry was left alone with Slughorn and he knew when he was done, Slughorn would immediately look at his scar. Sure enough, he turned around and found Harry's scar with his eyes no problem. Harry gritted his teeth and stood under the scrutiny of the man.
"Amazing… you look exactly like your father, James… But you-"
"-Have my mum's eyes, I know," said Harry wearily. It got annoying after awhile. "If you don't mind my asking, sir, why don't you want to teach at Hogwarts?"
Slughorn looked surprised. "My boy, you of all people should understand! You-Know-Who possessing Quirrel in your first year, The basilisk in your second, Sirius Black, You-Know-Who coming back- it begs the question, what'll happen this year?"
Harry had wondered the same question, but he kept his mouth shut.
"Sir, The only wizard Voldemort-" Harry had to refrain from telling him to get a grip when Slughorn jumped at the name. "The only wizard he fears is Dumbledore. So you would be safer if you came to Hogwarts, never mind what's been happening the past couple years. Besides, it was the DADA position that's ever been hurt, sacked, or killed."
"Yes… It is rumored You-Know-Who fears Dumbledore… and rightfully so…" muttered Slughorn to himself.
At that moment, Dumbledore came down the stairs, holding a magazine. Slughorn looked at him, looking like a small boy who had lost his parents.
"Horace, you don't mind if I take this, do you?" asked Dumbledore. "I do love knitting patterns."
Harry and Slughorn looked at him as if he had lost his last marble, when Slughorn shook himself and said, "Yes, of course. I suppose you are going to keep asking me if I'll go and teach, eh?"
"Oh, no, Horace," said Dumbledore said, tucking the magazine into his robes. "I know a lost cause when I see one."
"Lost cause?" said Slughorn, surprised at not being the center of attention anymore.
"Yes, I can see trying to convince you would be a waste of all our time. Not least of which Harry's," added Dumbledore seeing the yawn Harry had tried to hide.
"Waste of…" Slughorn trailed off, looking at the two of them walking out. "I won't run out after you, you know!"
"Yes, of course, Horace. Good day- well, night I suppose," Dumbledore chuckled, walking out.
"Well that was useless, wasn't it, Professor?" said Harry.
"Oh, no, quite the opposite. You see, Horace is attracted to powerful students- no, not in a romantic way," said Dumbledore, chuckling at Harry's stricken look. "He has a knack for finding students that will do well when they graduate. Therefore it's obvious he would be interested in you."
"Is that why you brought me, Professor?" asked Harry, angered at being manipulated yet again.
"Yes, and I'm sure Horace will come running out in a moment," said Dumbledore, completely oblivious to Harry's annoyance.
Harry was about to lay into him, when Dumbledore's proposition came true: Slughorn yelled after them as they were leaving the yard, and they turned to see him.
After glancing around fearfully, as if afraid to be seen by passerby, he said quickly, "I'll do it, Dumbledore! But I want a raise!" and promptly swept back inside and repaired the door.
Dumbledore chuckled as they turned back to the street to the sound of a slamming door. "Well, there you have it, Harry. We now have a new teacher."
At this point, Harry voiced a complaint that had been driving him mad since they had gotten there. "Sir, Snape is teaching Potions. Is he being sacked?" asked Harry hopefully.
Dumbledore shook his head. "No, Harry, Professor Snape will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. Horace, well, now Professor Slughorn will now be teaching Potions."
"Snape is teaching DADA now?" Harry exclaimed, aghast. His shoulders slumped. "It just gets worse and worse each year," he said glumly.
"I have no doubt that Professor Snape will do a wonderful job teaching you and your classmates," said Dumbledore sternly. "Now, Harry, once more, grab this," he held out the paper again.
Harry looked at him incredulously, then gave up, resigned, and grabbed the paper.
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They came out in the middle in the middle of a field in front of the Burrow.
Harry glanced at Dumbledore, then started towards the house. Before he could, however, Dumbledore took hold of his elbow.
"Harry…" Dumbledore began. Harry could see what was coming and stopped him.
"Professor, if you are about to say anything aout Sirius, I just want you to know that I've made peace with the fact that he's gone. Hearing anything about him won't help."
Tears gathered in the corners of Dumbledore's eyes. Patting him on the back, he gently nudged Harry toward the Burrow.
Harry was on the doorstep when Dumbledore called him. "Harry, Sirius would have been proud of you."
Harry smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Professor. I'll see you in September."
Dumbledore smiled back, his eyes twinkling. "And I you, Harry."
Turning back to the house, Harry knocked on the door.
The door opened a moment later, and Mrs. Weasley's face peered out.
"Harry!" She exclaimed, and opened the door wide for him, inviting him in. "I didn't expect you for another couple days! Your owl and trunk are in the living room, but never mind that now. Come in! Would you like some onion soup?"
Harry's stomach gave an answering growl. He grinned at her sheepishly. "Yes, please, Mrs. Weasley."
After a bowl of soup, and Mr. Weasley coming home, Mrs. Weasley sent him up to bed in Fred and George's room.
Author's Notes: I'll update soon. Review please! Flames, comments and compliments welcome. This is my first story, it'd be awesome if I could get support. Also, the song up top is just something i like to listen to. Try it! I'll put on different kinds of songs and their artists, so just review and tell me what you think.