Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and if I could make money out of this story, I wouldn't post it here.

Harry Potter and the Lost Grimoire

By

Kontrast

Chapter 1 – Dreams and Discussions

The sun burned down on Little Whinging and the houses of Privet Drive with their neatly trimmed backyards and shining white garden fences. It was so hot, the streets were deserted in the early afternoon hours and most of the occupants of Little Whinging remained in their air-conditioned houses. Even the park down Magnolia Road, which normally was filled with the noise of children playing, was silent. The only people that could be seen were a young couple, sitting completely oblivious to the world in the shadow of some trees; two little girls, playing in a sandbox; and a lone boy with raven black and unruly hair, sitting on a swing at the far end of the park.

He would have looked like a statue if it weren't for the slight breeze that made his hair move ever so slightly. This sight was not unusual. In fact, it was the same picture as every day for the past week: "Boy With Black Hair Brooding". And brood he did. Too many thoughts about Sirius Black, his recently deceased godfather, were haunting him, but it wasn't just the death of his friend and father figure but rather the fact that he thought himself guilty of it that had sent him to his current condition. 'I as good as killed him'; that was his standard line of thought.

The only light in his dark mood was the lack of confrontation with his so called 'family'. He was glad that his relatives left him alone most of the day, due to the fact that members of the Order of the Phoenix had threatened them into treating him well. Of course, it was impossible for Vernon and Petunia Dursley to treat Harry Potter, their freak nephew and only obstacle standing between them and a 'normal life', well, so they didn't even bother trying and just ignored him.

And so the first week of his summer went by in silence. Every day he did his surprisingly few chores and vanished in the nearby park, after eating an apple or a piece of toast for lunch. It wasn't that his relatives were still trying to starve him, but his hunger these days was nearly nonexistent.

Today was a rather bad day. After cleaning the dishes, Harry was on his way out of the house only to be stopped by his Uncle's voice bellowing out of the living room. "Hey, Boy! It's been a week now. Remember to write to one of those freaks from the station and your murderer of a godfather. I don't want any of these people appearing on my doorstep!" With only this one sentence his Uncle had hurt him more than many, many times before – and he hadn't even been trying hard.

Harry was able to hold his tears until he was out of sight but when he passed the gates of the park they fell freely. Since then he sat there on the swing with his thoughts spiralling down. He thought about Sirius and his death, the past years and how they hadn't had nearly enough time to get to know each other or for his godfather to tell him stories about his parents and the adventures of the Marauders. But he also thought about the prophecy Professor Dumbledore had revealed to him not long ago and how it affected his past, present and future – his destiny. Was it really his destiny? Would he really have to become a murderer or die trying? Or was this whole thing just a big hoax made up by an utter fraud who was desperately trying to get a well paid job as a teacher at Hogwarts?

And so he let his thoughts wander aimlessly until a disembodied voice quietly spoke his name. "Harry?"

It took him a moment to recognize the currently invisible owner of the voice. "Tonks?"

"Wotcher!"

"Hey. What are you doing here?" he asked in a low voice, looking in the general direction of the young Auror. "Wait. Let me guess – Dumbledore sent you to baby-sit me."

The slight movement to his right told him that Tonks had sat down on the nearest swing.

"Hmmm… I would prefer the expression 'guarding you', but if you think you need a babysitter, I'll make sure to stop by tonight and sing you a lullaby."

He made a face but had to suppress a snort at the mental picture.

"Thanks, but no. I don't think Dumbledore would like the idea of you sitting at my bedside rather than standing in front of my door."

She made the vocal equivalent to a shrug and replied, "If you think so. But if you change your mind, you know where to find me."

"And where would that be?"

"Twenty feet behind you under an Invisibility Cloak. Speaking of which, it's damn hot under here! This thing is supposed to have a Cooling Charm on it, but I think it has worn off."

"Why don't you just use a Disillusionment Charm then?"

Tonks shook her head no. "When you use this Charm you don't become invisible – there's still your shape that can be seen if there's enough light, like a chameleon. And a walking shape in the middle of a Muggle park would certainly draw even more attention than an incredibly cute witch with pink hair."

"So, besides you, who's wasting their time guarding me?"

"Mainly Shacklebolt, Emmeline and Podmore. But I can assure you, nobody thinks of it as a waste of time. We don't have a clue what You-Know-Who is up to, so everyone is glad to do at least something useful."

"Everything silent then? No attacks?"

"Nothing"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't had any news of the wizarding world for the past week and had been worried that after Voldemorts 'official return' an open war was going to break out.

"Hey, you should be really thankful that it isn't Mad-Eye who guards you. You know his magical eye can see through walls, don't you?"

"Of course I kn…ewww! Urgh, thanks a lot, Tonks. Now I'll never be able again to take a shower without feeling embarrassed!"

"You're welcome," she said cheerfully.

He couldn't help but let out a chuckle at her infectious happiness.

"By the way, how come you're talking to me? Don't you have orders to remain hidden and silent or something?"

"Well, firstly, I think sweating under an Invisibility Cloak counts as hidden. And as for the 'silent' part; you know about the Order and that we're guarding you, so why shouldn't I be able to have a little chat with a friend? It's not as if we're in the middle of a Death Eaters' gathering."

"Hey, that's cool. Does that mean I'll have at least a little company during the next weeks?"

"Yup, starting midday the day after tomorrow. I've got a message from Dumbledore for you. He's stopping by on Tuesday to talk to you."

"What about?"

"Dunno. He just said he wants to discuss some things regarding You-Know-Who with you."

"Why would he want to do that?"

"I've got no clue. Sorry, Harry."

They sat in silence for the next minutes while he wondered what Dumbledore wanted to tell him. His musings were interrupted by Tonks' gentle voice. "How are you, Harry?"

He took a breath, but before he could say anything he was interrupted again. "And if you say anything like 'I'm fine', I'm going to hex you."

Harry had to rethink his answer, because that was exactly what he had wanted to say. In the end he just sighed and simply told the truth. Somehow, he actually wanted to tell someone. "I don't know, Tonks. It's…I'm…" Frustrated at his loss for words, he ran a hand through his hair. "It's as if I'm lying in a dark room without anything to hold on to. My thoughts are spiralling out of control and I don't find the strength to stand up. I just don't know what to do."

"That bad, eh?" she said with a sigh before pausing for a moment. "I know these feelings. In the last two years we lost three Aurors, one of them was a very good friend of mine and like a mentor to me. He was one of those people who taught you more than spells and how to block them, he told me many things about life, people and his experiences as an Auror. When he died, I didn't know what to do or what to feel. Every time I had a problem, I could count on his advice and now I was on my own. Roughly two weeks later, I was extremely stressed with work for the Department and the Order and some other problems. I could think of no one else to talk to and was obviously really down. I was angry with him for just leaving me alone. For nearly an hour I screamed at him and cursed him – until he answered me. I did the same thing I had done many times before; I talked to him and let his voice calm me down. Just now, I did it in my head." She stopped for a while before she continued. "What I'm trying to tell you, Harry, except for the fact that I'm a bit daft, is that - as stupid as it sounds - you'll simply have to find a way to go on. You won't forget him but you will stop mourning and cherish the memories you have with him." He could almost hear her sad smile. "I know, it doesn't help any at the moment, but it will get better."

Harry was a little shocked by this serious Tonks but what she had said made sense, even if it didn't make him feel much better, he saw a little light. And so he just slowly nodded in understanding.

Tonks laid an invisible hand on his left shoulder and he couldn't stop himself before reaching for it. He felt the silkiness of the cloak and the warmth of her hand and gave her a little squeeze. "Thanks."

"You're welcome" she said again, but this time with sober sincerity.

For nearly half an hour they sat in silence. Harry let his thoughts wander, but managed to keep them on a healthy level rather then let them get him down. After coming to the conclusion that it really was of no use to spend the whole day brooding - and with the mental image of Sirius kicking his arse for it - he spoke up. "Okay, I think it's time to go before you get a heat stroke."

"You'll hear no argument from me. Back home?"

He shrugged. "If you want to call it that."

"Are they still that horrible?"

He replied while standing up and heading for the park gates. "No. Since your little chat they're ignoring me and vice-versa. That's actually much better than last summer."

"Sounds not like a perfect relationship to me," she said from behind him and slightly to the right. Again, all he could do was shrug "It's okay with me. If it weren't for Dumbledore and the blood wards I would never have gone back after my first year at Hogwarts."

"Where would you've liked to stay?" she asked curiously.

"At that time I hoped I could just stay at Hogwarts for the summer, like I do during the winter breaks. I didn't get as to why Dumbledore kept sending me back."

"Do you understand it now?"

"I think so. At the end of last term we had a long talk and he explained some things to me, afterwards though, I was livid. What with all that had happened in the Ministry, it was just too much. But since then I thought a lot about it and it occurred to me that since I first met him, I always thought of Dumbledore as the one who knows the right answer to everything, the great wizard who always makes for the right way. I was wrong. But even when he makes mistakes, his actions are based on the right reasons. That's all anybody could ask for."

They walked back to the entrance of Number Four where they parted.

"Hey, Harry?"

"Hm?"

"A week ago we had a meeting with Dumbledore," she said and continued in a mischievous voice "You wouldn't happen to know the name of the hurricane that ravaged his office, would you?"

The next day the sun seemed to burn even hotter. Harry didn't leave the house, but spent the day with chores and homework instead. The conversation with Tonks had given him a little energy boost and he didn't want to risk falling back in his dark mood, so he tried not to think too much about anything. The one thing that came constantly to the surface of his mind was the reason Dumbledore would want to see him just a few days after the start of summer holidays. At first he imagined all kinds of terrible incidents that could have happened to cause the Headmaster to this little journey but the Order would at least know something and Dumbledore surely wouldn't come to him, of all people, to speak about it. Then he entertained the idea that Dumbledore had come to the decision to rescue him early and would take him to the Burrow – or to #12 Grimmauld Place, which gave him a shudder. In the end, he settled for the only thing he could do: wait and see how it would go.

"Hello, Harry."

The boy in question turned and saw the smiling face of his headmaster.

"Oh, hello Professor."

"I hope you had a pleasant summer so far?"

"It was okay, sir. You wanted to speak to me?"

"Indeed. But do not let us waste time. We will have enough of it when we are at Headquarters."

"You'll take me to Grimmauld Place?"

"Correct again, Harry. There we will have the opportunity to discuss the latest developments," Dumbledore said nonchalantly but suddenly his face became serious. "That is also where we are going to hold your trial."

Harry looked in shock into Dumbledore's grave eyes and spun around again when he felt the weight of a strong hand on his shoulder.

"What for, Harry, what for?"

Now he wasn't shocked. He was speechless.

"Why did I have to die?" asked the man whose face was so near that it completely filled Harry's sight. His grey eyes were staring accusingly, his hands were still in a firm grip around the boy's shoulders and when he spoke, his voice was forceful.

"I was always hoping to kick the bucket for a good reason but you took that chance from me. I certainly didn't want to die just because of your stupidity. I never thought you would turn out to be such a disappointment!"

With that, he turned and walked away, slowly fading.

"Do you see why you must be punished? Do you see what you have done?" asked Dumbledore but Harry ignored him. All he wanted to do was to go after his godfather but try as he might, he just couldn't move his legs.

"Sirius! Wait, Sirius, please wait! I'm sorry!" By now he was sobbing and barely managed to choke the words out. "I'm so sorry!" Again and again he screamed for his godfather, begged for his forgiveness until his voice was hoarse, but received no answer.

Harry was already sitting in his bed before his mind became clear enough to take in his surroundings. He was sweating and silently crying.

Laying his head in his shaking hands, he tried to breathe and regain his composure.

"I'm sorry, Sirius" he repeated the words from his dream. "I'm so sorry."

Sleep didn't come back easily that night.

When Tuesday finally came around Harry was in the kitchen of Number Four shortly before lunchtime, preparing a modest meal for his aunt, cousin and himself. His hands were moving on their own accord, while his mind wandered. To say he was glad that his uncle wasn't at home would be more than a bit of an understatement. He could imagine vividly how Vernon Dursley would react to a one-hundred-and-fifty years old wizard standing in front of his door.

To Harry's relief, lunch was a silent affair. Aunt Petunia was busy going on about the good grades her precious little son had achieved last term ('No doubt he's bullying his classmates to do his homework', Harry thought) when suddenly the doorbell rang, so Harry stood up to answer it.

"Sit down!" Aunt Petunia snapped. "It could be one of those new neighbours and I don't want them to get the wrong impression by seeing you first."

Harry, more annoyed than irritated, watched his aunt out of the corner of his eye and followed her at a safe distance until he stood in the doorway of the kitchen. His aunt adjusted her hair in the mirror in the entrance hall and straightened herself before opening the door with a sickeningly sweet and fake smile.

Barely one second later, her smile faltered. The only thing that let her keep her composure was that the smiling old man in the door sure looked strange, but also wealthy and even somewhat aristocratic. He wore a suit that looked at least a hundred years out of fashion and a top hat occluded just a small part of his long white hair. His dark red vest and equal necktie were barely visible under his waist length beard. In his left hand he carried a black cane with a brass handle and when he moved his right arm to reach out for Petunia's hand, he revealed a golden watch chain dangling from the inside pocket of his jacket.

"Mrs. Petunia Dursley, I presume?"

A confused nod was all he received. After waiting for another couple of seconds he moved his unshaken hand back.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore," he introduced himself friendly. "I really hope I am not disturbing, but I have to speak to Mr. Potter on a matter of importance."

By now, Aunt Petunia's face had become a sickly shade of green. Without her husbands massive back to hide behind she really must have been afraid of this wizard, who even she knew was not an ordinary one. Not that Harry really cared. After an awkward - at least for Petunia - moment of silence, she simply turned around and made for a hasty retreat, but was stopped by the calm voice of her not so welcomed guest.

"Unfortunately, I have only little time to talk at the moment, but rest assured we will meet again." Harry thought the last part sounded more like a threat rather than a promise, but that was another thing he didn't care for.

After Petunia had vanished in the living room and the face of the spying Dudley was frightened away by a look from the headmaster, which McGonnagal would be proud of, Dumbledore turned towards Harry, who was somewhere between bemused and bewildered by his relatives' behaviour.

"Not the most polite welcome I have ever received, but I think it will do," he said with a smile.

Harry grinned and shrugged apologetically. He still felt a little awkward in the professor's presence. Sure, what he had told Tonks was true – he wasn't holding a grudge against Dumbledore, but as good as his intentions may have been, the Headmaster had made a mistake, and this mistake had cost Harry both his godfather, and valuable time to prepare for the approaching fight from him. The dream of the previous night and his curiosity about the coming discussion didn't make the situation more pleasant.

Shaking off these thoughts, Harry nodded politely towards Dumbledore and greeted him.

"Hello, Professor."

"Harry," he answered friendly. "I hope your summer was not too unpleasant so far?" The boy almost couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes. 'As if he doesn't know already',he thought and waved his hand dismissively.

"It was okay."

"Ah, yes, I thought as much. Would you care for a walk, Harry? It would be a shame to waste this beautiful day inside."

How anyone – especially someone who was wearing at least three layers of clothing - could call the current heat wave 'beautiful' was beyond Harry's comprehension, but on the other side, anything that gave him a chance to leave his relatives house was all right with him.

"Sure," he agreed. "Just give me a minute to put on my shoes."

After doing so and leaving the house in the general direction of the park, Dumbledore and Harry walked slowly down the street.

"What was it you wanted to speak to me about, sir?"

"Well, as I'm sure you've done likewise, I've thought much about our little discussion at the end of last term."

Harry's ears reddened just a bit. "Oh, yeah, about that. I'm sorry for destroying your office, Professor."

"No apologies needed, Mr. Potter. I can only imagine how you felt at the time. Actually, you showed considerable restrain." Then he added with a hint of unhappiness: "Although I have learned not to keep the most fragile appliances lying around since."

"As I was saying, I've thought about what you have said and came to the decision that, from now on, I will inform you about anything regarding Voldemort and his Death Eaters."

Harry was baffled. Sure, this was exactly what he had wanted, but he never would have thought that Dumbledore would actually listen to him. He still couldn't believe the amount of trust Dumbledore was placing upon him, so he asked the first question that came to his mind. "Why?"

"The answer to that question, Harry, is quite obvious and I have to say I should have seen it a long time ago. You are our only chance at winning this war. By treating you like some sort of secret weapon that I could just pull out of my sleeve at the right time, I, even if I never would have admitted it, totally neglected your interests and betrayed the faith your parents had in me."

"My parents?"

"Oh yes, they of course knew about the prophecy and they also were aware of the danger they were in. If something was to happen to them, they trusted me to take care of their only son and to guide and succour you in these troubled times. Alas, as it seems, the very first decision I have made after your parents' tragic death – sending you to your relatives – was not the best one I've ever made. And eleven years later, I have done something even worse: I have been keeping you in the dark about the things you had and still have to do. In the light of the greater good, I forgot about you. I won't even start to apologise, there simply is no excuse."

Harry was torn between the anger that flared once again inside of him as he heard Dumbledore's confession, and the calm voice coming from his heart that only wanted peace and not another enemy. In the end, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and forced himself to forgive.

"You don't have to apologise, Professor. You did what you thought was right. I don't want to hold that against you." He opened his eyes and smiled. "I think even an old man can learn from his mistakes."

At this, Dumbledore chuckled. "Quite true, Harry. Sometimes I think my students are wiser then me. They are certainly more open-minded."

"I just hope you'll really change your mind and I haven't sealed my fate by trusting you again," Harry thought with a mental shake of his head.

"So, professor, is there any news?"

The old man sighed heavily. "No, there is not. As glad as we are that there are no attacks, we are also worried about what brings Voldemort to keeping quiet like that. We always thought he would start an open war once he revealed himself to the public."

"What about Snape?"

"Professor Snape, Harry, doesn't know anything either. There were no meetings the past week."

"That means that anything we can do is wait for his next move?"

"I'm afraid so. The Order is trying its best, but at the moment we are lost."

"Perfect. How can we hope to win this war, when we don't even know where and when it takes place?"

But Dumbledore saved him from any pointless thoughts by changing the topic. "Now that we have caught up with each other, there are two more things for you to decide.

"The first one is rather simple. I have told you that I thought about making you a Prefect before your fifth year, but I decided against it, because I didn't want to burden you with another task. I think this year you should choose for yourself whether you can handle it." Despite Harry's jealousy towards Ron nearly one year ago, this honour seemed rather meaningless in the light of his new situation.

"You don't have to decide now, just let me know within – let's say – two weeks?"

Harry nodded. "And what's the second one?"

"Well, that would be the question of your whereabouts until the end of summer."

"I can leave?"

"If that's what you want, yes, you may leave. But you know my opinion and I would ask you to consider staying at Privet Drive."

Harry's first reaction would have been an attempt at a new packing record, but something held him back. After some minutes of analysing, he recognized it as the fact that Sirius gave his live to safe Harry's.

"Okay, I'll stay - for now. But if anything gets out of hand, I'll be gone before you can say 'Burrow'."

"That's all I can ask you for. Sadly, my time is limited, therefore we should go back."

And so they did and said their good bye, but as Harry was opening the door, he turned once more.

"May I ask you a question, sir?"

"That's the reason I have become a teacher, Harry," the professor said with twinkling eyes.

"I thought you know a lot about Muggles. Why are you wearing these clothes?" he asked curiously.

"You see, I don't often have the opportunity to wear Muggle clothes. But when I do, I almost always choose this suit for sentimental reasons. I bought it nearly ninety years ago in London. It was one of the best times of my long life. Ahh, to be sixty again." For a moment, his eyes adopted a far away look before the twinkling returned. "And I have to confess, I always had a fondness for appearances."

A/N:

Many thanks to my betas for their great help with this chapter and hopefully story.

All reviews are highly appreciated, but if you really want to do me a favour, don't just write "like it" or "hate it", but rather tell me what you like or don't like.

The first chapter is just a prologue, so please excuse the lack of action or plot.

Oh, and please bear in mind that english isn't my native language.