As Albus Dumbledore peered down at the Gryffindor table, his eyes locked onto one face in particular, Harry Potter. Dumbledore was glad Harry was sorted into Gryffindor as it would make training him all the easier. No one would look twice at Gryffindor's golden boy, the Boy Who Lived, receiving a few extra lessons from the Headmaster. Dumbledore chuckled to himself, the world wouldn't know what hit it when he finally released young Harry.

Dumbledore had to check himself as the opening feast disappeared, he very nearly asked Mr. Potter to join him in his office. For he planned on telling Harry the prophecy, in its entirety, soon. 'I'll give him a couple months,' he thought, 'just to get settled in.' Finally resolved, Dumbledore stood and dismissed the students to their common rooms.

On his trek back to his office Dumbledore pondered Harry's unique situation. Seeming to be just another first year, Harry actually had the weight of the wizarding world on his shoulders. For Dumbledore was certain Tom would be back.

In another lifetime Dumbledore would have jumped at the chance to preserve Mr. Potter's innocence, and his childhood. Yet he knew that ideal was doomed when Minerva brought him a copy of his Hogwarts letter, addressed to the Cupboard Under the Stairs. Despite being the safest possible option at the time, Dumbledore knew he had subjected Mr. Potter to a childhood of neglect and abuse.

'Never again will he be at someone's mercy,' Dumbledore thought, with a tear in his eye. No, when Tom returned Harry would be armed with not only the knowledge of the prophecy, but all of the magical ability Albus could impart to him.

The morning of November first dawned and Harry awoke with a smile. He high fived his best mate, Ron Weasley, and with matching grins they bounced down the stairs.

Strolling into the Great Hall, Harry immediately spotted the girl he was looking for. Her bushy hair hung down over her face, as she was more engrossed in her book than her food. Harry pulled Ron over and slid onto the bench across from Hermione Granger.

"Hey," he said, quietly, yet she still jumped at the noise. "Hey yourself," she replied with a small smile. "Would you like to sit with us in Charms this morning?" Harry asked. She looked between them and Ron mumbled, "I'm still having trouble with Wingardium Leviosa, and uh… I was wondering if you maybe could help me today?" Hermione's heart melted at his hopeful expression, "I'd love to."

The Sun did not break through on the morning of December first, and Harry shivered a little as he sat down to eat. Ron's plate was soon half empty and he and Hermione shared a knowing grin with a shake of the head. Some habits only gained intensity, and Ron's aptitude for food was one of them.

Harry's fork paused halfway to his mouth as an unknown owl dropped in front of him. "That's a school owl," Hermione commented. Harry wondered who at Hogwarts would choose to owl him instead of just talking to him.

Slitting open the envelope Harry read,

Dear Mr. Potter,

I happen to know you have a free period after breakfast and was hoping you could join me for a chat in my office. In case you were wondering, I do enjoy lemon drops.

Cordially yours,

Albus Dumbledore

Reading over his shoulder Hermione wondered aloud, "What could the Headmaster possibly need to speak to you about? The incident with the troll was already cleared up."

Harry just wanted to know, "Where is Dumbledore's office?" Both Ron and Hermione looked clueless, but a few seats down Fred Weasley turned. Tapping his brother on the shoulder Fred said, "Hey George, it sounds like Harry here needs a few sturdy guides on his quest to find the Headmaster." With a sly grin George replied, "Well, it certainly beats double Potions with the Slytherins!" Together, they shivered in abject horror.

Standing as one, Fred and George hauled Harry out of his seat and set off out of the Great Hall. Harry shook his head in amusement and sent a wave back to his friends as he trailed after them.

"So, Potter, what does Dumbledore want with you?" George asked. "No idea," Harry replied, "He only wrote some nonsense about lemon drops." "Ah," Fred nodded in understanding, "Then lemon drop must be the password." George whispered to conspiratorially to Harry, "We've become well acquainted with the Headmaster's quirks and riddles over our years here."

As they reached the stone gargoyle Fred suddenly shouted, "Lemon drop!" and George saluted the statue. Then they turned together and sprinted away laughing, leaving Harry slightly confused but grinning in spite of himself.

Up the winding stairs, Harry had reached to knock on the door when he heard, "Come in, Mr. Potter." Baffled, Harry pushed the door open and was met with the twinkling eyes of Albus Dumbledore. "Sir, how did you know…" Harry started. "Another day, Mr. Potter," was the ready reply.

"Have a seat, Mr. Potter." Dumbledore began, gesturing at a lavish armchair in front of his desk. Nervously, Harry did so. "I'm sure you are wondering the reason I called you here," he stated, to which Harry nodded. "Well it is certainly not because you are in trouble," making Harry grin sheepishly and relax. "My reason actually begins with your scar, tell me Harry, what do you know about the wizard who fashions himself Lord Voldemort?"

"Well I know he killed my parents and tried to kill me," Harry began slowly, "But he just ended up giving me this scar." "Correct," replied the Headmaster, "But do you know why he tried to kill you or what your scar means?"

Harry could only shake his head.

"So this prophecy thing means only I can kill Voldemort, when he comes back to life, because my scar marks me as his equal?" Harry attempted to sum up the Headmaster's long explanation. "And you want to train me to beat him."

"Essentially, yes. I want to ensure you are ready to not only survive, but confront Lord Voldemort when he returns." Dumbledore maintained his calm exterior, but inside he unsure if he had revealed too much to Harry too soon.

Harry sat silent for a few minutes, his expression constantly changing. One second he was biting his lip in nervousness, then his brow was clenched in thought. Suddenly, his striking green eyes hardened and he looked towards Dumbledore with determination and courage shining through them.

"I'll do it, train with you I mean." Dumbledore smiled in response. "But," Harry continued, "Can Ron and Hermione join me? If I have to face the worst wizard ever I'd rather do so with my best friends than alone." Harry was trying to maintain his determined presence, but Dumbledore could tell he might cringe away if denied his request.

Dumbledore shrugged to himself and thought, 'A trio sounds promising.' Besides Minerva could not stop bragging about her new student. Ms. Granger did seem quite bright. And Mr. Weasley did have many talented older brothers, maybe he would grow to be a great wizard himself. 'Yes, this could work.'

Dumbledore awoke from his reverie and saw young Harry unconsciously biting his lip again. "Of course your friends can join you. I believe you are right that you may be stronger together than on your own. But Mr. Potter, I would caution you against revealing the content of these lessons, or the prophecy, to anyone outside the three of you. It would only complicate matters."

"I, I mean we, can do that, Sir. Can I go and tell them?" Harry asked, gaining excitement over the prospect of learning with his friends. Dumbledore chuckled and replied, "Yes, that concludes everything pertinent for this evening. You may go."

Hopping out of his chair, Harry made for the door. With it halfway open, he turned back to Dumbledore. With a seriousness that outshone his eleven years Harry made to speak, "Thank you Professor, for trusting me with my role and offering me lessons. I won't let you down."

The door shut and Dumbledore was left to his thoughts. To his left, Fawkes trilled a note that combined hope, love, and a promise of a better future. Thoroughly convinced in his approach, Dumbledore finished out loud, "No Harry, I don't believe you will."