Disclaimers: See the first chapter, et cetera.

Chapter 3 - Interlude: Dumbledore's Lament

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In a old castle far removed from Mt Ebott, an aged man was sitting in his office, pensively staring at his desk. The man's office, placed quite securely in the tallest tower of the former medieval provincial hub, was a flurry of activity even in the quietest of times. On the shelves that lined the walls, various gadgets and gizmos ticked and popped and whizzed as they responded in tandem to specific events occurring around the world. Some of these devices were new, items the man had obtained or created in his travels, and yet others were much older, either contributed to the collection by former tower residents or even from the construction of the castle itself.

It was often wondered by people who knew of the tower how exactly the tower residents (who most often were in fact headmasters of the school that now resided in said castle) knew as many things as they did, and the answer would be found among the noise and confusion of the items on the walls. See, each item on the shelves was designed to react to changes in the world around it. For example, a specific whirligig on the third shelf (right side next to the entrance door, second item from the left) would spin clockwise as long as the larders in the castle were at least fifty percent full, and would slow down and then begin to spin in the opposite direction as the food levels dropped below acceptable levels. In that same way, each item on each of the shelves would tell the current headmaster or headmistress something about the school, the country, or even the world in general, as long as they were clever enough to deduce its meaning (and they were instructed, as they could, to contribute to the school, both in terms of adding new items to the shelves, and in documenting their details in the Headmaster's Book of Hogwarts, because being clever is fine and all, but who wants to be clever all the time? Using these instruments, headmasters could seemingly be everywhere at once, and know nearly everything there is to know that is important, all while remaining in their office. It really was, in many ways, the predecessor of the BBC (and it is rumored that some of the most influential in the creation of the BBC were, in fact, keenly aware of the headmasters' shelves).

However, despite all the goings on in the world as told by the devices, the old man known to most as Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was only interested at that moment in three specific items from those shelves, all of which he currently had on his desk instead of in their places in the shelves. These three items were several from a number of objects that the headmaster had added to the shelves himself, though these three likely wouldn't last on the shelves much after his tenure, as these three were designed with a single purpose in mind. See, the headmaster created these three devices as a sort of direct monitoring tool for a single individual, namely one Harry James Potter. Each of the three had a specific function, and Dumbledore felt only a small sense of pride in the fact that, by using these three devices, he could at any given point, understand where and in what condition Harry happened to be in at that moment. However, it is a paraphrasing of a well known idiom that clever people who know they are clever can be dangerous, and that particular pride, Albus thought to himself as he took another sip of Brandy, was apparently somewhat misplaced. Closing his eyes tightly for a moment, he returned his thoughts to the possibilities that could be open to this situation.

He was first made aware that there was an issue when the soft ticking from the first device became a high pitched whine as the device, modeled after an old fashioned stock ticker, began to spin faster and faster, the marked lines on the ticker tape fluctuating wildly. He had stepped out of his office for a meeting less than an hour before walking in on this alarm, so he knew the meter (which measured both Harry's health, a requirement considering the circumstances, and his magic, which had always been quite volatile) was notifying him of a recent, and significantly negative, change. This in and of itself was not extremely uncommon, unfortunately. Harry's relatives were, of course, rather hard on the boy. He had discovered this the hard way several years ago, when Arabella Figg had called him over in a panic to find that the boy, who was then six years old, had been beaten nearly to death and thrown out into the cold. After a furious interlude with the Dursleys, he had come to find out that they had simply felt this was an appropriate punishment for what they designated 'freakishness', and it wasn't the first time they had used said punishment. Albus was beside himself with rage; the boy had merely summoned extra food at the table in a bout of accidental magic, which wasn't surprising considering they underfed the boy as it was. After cooling off outside for several minutes, Albus was forced to make a rather difficult decision. He couldn't pull Harry from the house itself, as he was far too protected there and he had committed to ensuring the boy grew up fully into his potential, however there was no way he could simply leave him in this state, with the potential for further abuse. After a few minutes considering his options, he decided that there was only one way to proceed. First he re-entered the house and performed something he had sworn he would never do unless absolutely necessary; he placed a personality altering change on the mind of Vernon and Petunia Dursley. He had to make it subtle, lest it interfere with their lives, so he simply had them merely internalize some of their fear and hatred of Harry, and all magic users, instead of taking it all out directly on the child. This way, though their distain would still be clear, and the boy unfortunately might still suffer some abuse and neglect, there wouldn't be enough hatred to cause either to cause this sort of harm to the boy. Then, he returned Harry to the home, appropriately modified everyone's memories, and left before he became too sympathetic to want to do more.

It was at this point that he created the health monitoring device to ensure he would know in time, just in case something happened to the boy, like it was at that particular moment. When he saw the strong reaction from the device, and how the boy's health appeared to be failing rapidly, he immediately hastened to the astronomy tower and quickly apparated to the Dursley home to prevent another potential disaster, only to find the home was empty. Quickly returning to his office while cursing this particular lack of foresight, he went to the shelves to pull out the second device. This one was created actually before the health ticker, when one of Arabella's kneazles apparently a started four year old Harry enough that he accidentally apparated half way across Little Whinging. After locating him and appropriately wiping his memory, he created this one just in case he needed to track the boy further, after all any four year old with the power to accidentally apparate several miles will likely eventually be able to go much farther, so this device was attuned to Harry's blood, and always pointed him to wherever Harry would be at any given moment. Except for this moment apparently, as the device was completely deactivated. This panicked the headmaster for a moment, as the most likely reason for this device to fail was that Harry was dead, however the audible sounds coming from the health ticker clearly make this incorrect.

While wondering how that particular combination could be possible, he reached down to the back of the shelf for his third, and oldest Harry monitoring device - a specially modified foe glass designed to act as though Harry was always the one holding the glass, regardless of who was holding it at the time. This one actually had been put into use in the weeks and months immediately after Voldemort's disappearance, it's ability to detect whenever someone with ill intentions towards Harry approaching Privet Drive meant many Death Eaters were secretly captured before they could harm anyone else. In more recent years, the globe had faded to a dull silver as there were fewer threats from magical society on Harry's life, however now, the globe was telling a different story. A storm seemed to rage within the confines of the glass, dark clouds swirling around flashes of light and color, casting shadows and light around the room as Albus looked into it, searching for some sort of information, however other than the light show, nothing was forthcoming. It appeared that something was happening, but the globe couldn't make heads or tails of what precisely the threat was, if anything, much to Albus' consternation.

Over the coming days and weeks, Albus would spend every spare moment trying to track down what happened to Harry. The Dursleys were, rather surprisingly, of little help. Between a physical confrontation, and Albus's surreptitious searching of their memories, it became apparent that the personality modifications had some unforeseen consequences. Apparently the repressed hatred of the boy had been gathering for so long, that the family had left that morning with the intent of actually killing Harry... somehow. What was odd was that anything beyond that was completely incomprehensible to the headmaster. The Dursleys had no memory left in their minds of what they were planning to do to Harry, and that entire day in their minds had been effectively fogged over in mist, a potential sign of magical modification perhaps, but not one that he had ever seen before. Could it be that Harry had performed some unknown form of accidental magic again? Had someone or something else interfered? Under any circumstances, Albus left the family with some choice angry words, noting that it was unlikely they would see Harry or any other magic users again - as the wards around the home had clearly collapsed under the level of hatred the muggles had for Harry meant the Dursley home was unsuitable anymore anyways.

After a few more days of fruitless searching and theorizing, Albus returned to his office to find the items had changed somewhat. The storms in the foe glass had settled, and the dark clouds were gone, replaced by the same silver mist as before, though it was now tinted with colors, gently cycling through a rainbow of hues as a slow pace. Even the health meter had stopped it's warning tones, instead shifting to the gentle scratching that indicated that Harry was still... damaged, for lack of a better word, but healing. The location sensor was still completely defunkt however, which is what led to Albus pouring himself a dram of brandy and pondering the devices on his desk.

With all that said, the logical conclusion to be made from the three devices before him was that Harry was... somewhere where the headmaster would be unable to locate him, and he was harmed greatly at some point in the last several weeks, but is recovering, and is not in any significant danger currently, except possibly from his own wildly fluctuating magic. In addition, when he was eventually recovered from wherever he was, the collapsed wards on the Dursley home combined with... whatever happened to them meant that he couldn't return to that house anymore (not that, after finding out what happened, he would even seriously consider returning him there).

So a seriously injured, extremely powerful, barely trained wizard lost who knows where with no home to speak of. Add to this Sirius Black's recent departure from Azkaban...

With a sad sigh, the headmaster stood and walked over to the perch to the side of his desk, and ran his fingers through the plumage if his familiar, Fawkes the Phoenix. Looking into the firebird's eyes, he began to muse, as much to himself as to the bird.

"I worry more and more now, my friend. We started on this path long ago with Harry, confident that this was the best way, but I wonder now if it will be too much on the boy. The last thing I want is to see him suffer, and now this?" he blinked away tears from his eyes "Are you still as certain as I used to be, Fawkes? Is this truly the path the boy must tread? Can we not spare him anything more?"

Fawkes dipped his head slightly and began to sing. It is well known that the songs of a phoenix cause great emotion to those who hear them, but what is less known is that, to those who have bonded to said great birds, that the emotions become something more in the hearing, they become stories. Phoenixes, you see, perceive time and fate differently than most other sapient life. Whereas people can only observe and predict, phoenixes can hear the very song of fate as it is being sung, and though they cannot see the future in a way that can be directly perceived, they do understand how actions can effect the great harmony that is the lives of everyone. Fawkes knew that Harry Potter was a key instrument, granted a gift to play as a soloist in the great orchestra that is the world, however Fawkes knew for that solo to truly be a part of the music, it must be tempered and trained. The boy would suffer, yes, and he would feel pain. But from it, he would weave a beautiful new layer onto the world's song, one that would leave echoes far beyond what most were possibly capable of.

Unfortunately, though it is easy for a phoenix to understand this, to understand the means to an end that comes from the tempering, for mortals who are so focused on only a small portion of their pieces in the song (as they should be), it is much more difficult to accept. Fawkes tried to put this concept into his song in a way he hoped his bonded familiar would understand, and he felt that he managed to get the point across as the headmaster nodded resolutely and wiped his eyes.

"Very well, my dear friend. I trust you, as I always have, to know things that I do not and can not." He walked quickly back to his desk and drained the final bit of brandy from his small glass and gathered his things. "But now, far more pressing matters are at hand, and politics waits for no man. Watch over things here, my friend. I shall return shortly." And with that, Albus walked to the door of his office and stepped out and onto the stairs out to the castle proper, feeling a bit better knowing that, though some of his choices weighed heavily on his heart, he was truly heading in the right direction.

All the while, the headmaster failed to notice something else on the shelves, where a small gyroscope that had been spinning for decades (fourth case left of the entrance door, bottom shelf, third item from the right) had come to rest entirely, lying on its side on a simple pedestal with a silver heart engraved on its side. Fawkes, turned his head to look at it, and warbled happily, knowing that things were set into motion and that finally his bonded familiar would be able to see the culmination of their hopes and dreams. He had considered letting Albus in on this particular secret as soon as he noticed the fallen object some time ago, but had decided to hold off unless necessary, there was no reason for the headmaster to be placed into a position to influence the change in the song at this time. And anyways, an immortal bird still needs to have some fun, don't they?

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An interlude chapter, to see what was going on elsewhere. Next chapter, Harry awakens in an unfamiliar place, and finds an unfamiliar caretaker. Asriel finds the job of caretaker to be a challenging one, for himself more than for his ward.