VII. The Homecoming: The Return of Harry Potter

It was dark when the Hogwarts Express finally began to slow. Harry, who had been napping, woke at the sudden shift in momentum as the brakes were applied. He opened his eyes blearily, forcing himself into alertness.

He stood as he felt the train come to a complete stop. As he didn't have any luggage with him, he left the train quickly, joining the throng of students pushing their way toward the exits. He inhaled deeply as he felt the cool night air on his face. He looked around, noting that everyone else had changed into Hogwarts robes. He looked down at himself, wearing black pants, a white button down and a plain black waistcoat and long blazer. It was his usual attire. Was he supposed to be wearing those ridiculous robes that looked far too loose and baggy to be at all practical? He couldn't imagine trying to run or fight in those things; it would be a nightmare.

He shrugged with a sigh. He would worry about the uniform when he actually had to attend a class. He internally groaned at the thought.

"Firs' years! Firs' years, over here!"

Harry followed the sound of the bellowing voice until his eyes fell upon what was probably the biggest man he had ever seen. This must be the famous Hagrid, Keeper of Keys, Grounds and Game, Professor for Care of Magical Creatures, Half-Giant, and member of the Order of the Phoenix. Hagrid was holding a large lantern high over his head as he called out, and Harry noticed several small kids running toward him.

Then, the sound of shouting reached his ears.

He turned to see someone he had hoped he would be able to avoid if at all possible. Draco Malfoy and his little gang, consisting of Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle and a dark-skinned boy that Harry knew to be Blaise Zabini from his frequent visits to Malfoy Manor during the summers had just climbed off the train and were looking around like they owned the place; knowing the fools, they probably thought they did. They seemed to focus in on a nearby group and set upon them with evident glee.

He was about to make himself scarce, until he caught sight of who Draco and his gaggle were accosting. It was Jimmy and Hermione, along with a red haired boy who could only be the Ron Weasley that Jimmy had mentioned. Harry wavered between helping and leaving, and was about to turn away when Crabbe shoved Jimmy to the ground, laughing as he did so. Goyle and Blaise joined in. Draco only smirked while Pansy looked a tad uncomfortable.

Harry growled under his breath and made his way over, moving easily through the ever-thinning crowd.

"We'll see how smug you all are at the end of the term," Draco was saying maliciously. The others laughed, while Hermione helped Jimmy back to his feet and Ron glared, his hand on his wand.

"And just what is that supposed to mean, Malfoy?" Ron countered, ears turning as red as his hair.

"Yes," Harry called out as he made his way over. "Just what is that supposed to mean?" He looked at Draco as if seeing him for the first time. "Malfoy was it?"

Draco's eyes got wide and his pomp and bluster left without a trace. Crabbe and Goyle were backing away slowly. Blaise was in shock, obviously not having known that Harry was going to be here this year, and was understandably caught off guard.

The rest of the students were now gone, leaving them all alone on the platform.

Draco recovered enough to speak. "And who are you?" he demanded, playing along. Of course he was. If he was the one to blow Harry's cover, it would not bode well for him or his family when word got back to the Dark Lord; and it would, that was inevitable.

"Harrald," was all Harry said. He drew his wand. "Now, I suggest you explain yourself, or draw your wand and duel," Harry said, his voice deadly serious, "and you can talk after I beat you."

Draco swallowed heavily, eyes darting from Harry's face to the wand and then back. His face was very pale. But it was Pansy who stepped in. "Come on, Draco," she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him away. "They aren't worth it."

Crabbe and Goyle nodded vigorously and led the way to one of the two remaining carriages. Harry almost snorted. For once, those two thick-headed oafs were showing more intelligence than Draco.

Harry tucked his wand away up his sleeve and turned to Jimmy. "You alright?" he inquired.

Jimmy nodded. "Yeah. I've taken worse falls than that. How did you do that? You had Malfoy petrified!"

"Git was practically wetting himself," Ron chimed in, chuckling. He held out his hand to Harry. "Ron Weasley," he introduced himself.

Harry clasped his hand after a second of hesitation. "Harrald." He didn't like this boy already, but then again, he didn't like many people.

Ron opened his mouth to say something else, but Jimmy jumped back into the conversation. "So what was it? Some sort of glamour, to make Malfoy see something scary? Or a Dread charm? That's, like, not even taught at NEWT level!"

Harry shook his head at the young Potter. "No. Nothing like that. I guess this Malfoy wasn't as brave as he thought he was. Must not be a Gryffindor then. Not like yourself," he said, gesturing at the red and gold badge on Jimmy's robes. "Now, I think we should be getting to the school now, don't you?"

Jimmy was about to speak, but this time it was his turn to get spoken over. "Yes," Hermione agreed, giving Jimmy a stern look. "If we're lucky, we'll get there in time for the sorting."

She led the way toward the final remaining carriage.

As they drew near, Harry noticed that they were not alone on the platform after all. There was a petite blonde girl standing by the carriage waiting for them.

"Hello, Luna," Hermione said, smiling softly at the girl.

"Hello, Hermione," the girl, Luna, said dreamily, her large silver eyes scanning over them, lingering a bit longer on Harry than on the others.

They exchanged a few pleasantries, but Harry was distracted by the sight of the creatures pulling the carriage. It was some sort of dark, skeletal horse-like beast. Thinking quickly, he began combing his mind for the exact name of these things. He was sure he had seen a drawing of something like this in a book during his lessons at Malfoy Manor. Thestrals. Yes, that was it.

He reached out gingerly and patted its neck. It shook its head for a second, then turned its head so that one pale, milky eye was facing him.

"What's he doing?" Ron asked, trying to be discreet about it, but failing.

Hermione shrugged, watching with concern. Jimmy was leaning over the side of the carriage from within looking at Harry with unmasked wonder.

"You can see them too?"

Harry looked down beside him to find the small blonde, Luna, looking up at him with wide luminous eyes. Harry kept waiting for her to blink, but she never did. Finally, he cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Yes."

"They can only be seen by those who've seen death, and accepted the reality of it. It's inevitable." Luna said all of this in the same manner one might note that it was cloudy outside.

Harry looked from her face back to the Thestral. "Yes."

"You've seen someone die?" Jimmy asked, sounding almost too eager. "Who was it?"

Harry suppressed his smile at the thought of all he had brought to an end, and those he was yet to deliver that gift of eternal sleep to. It would not do to appear excited by the act of killing. Instead he morphed his face into a sad expression. "I'd rather not talk about it."

Jimmy heard the tone of his voice and was immediately contrite. "Oh. Sorry, Harry."

Harry waved him off with a gesture. He turned to go and board the carriage too, but found Luna still standing there looking up at him unblinkingly. "Er, can I help you?" he asked. He was unnerved, which was a feeling he was decidedly unused to and he decided then and there that he did not like it.

Luna held his gaze for a moment longer, then shook her head. "No." With that, she skipped off to the back of the carriage, climbing inside with the others.

Harry followed at a more leisurely pace and took a seat on the end, which happened to be directly beside Hermione, who looked a bit annoyed that he had decided to sit next to her.

The ride from the platform to the castle was blessedly short, and Harry was the first one out of the cart. Having been raised in a pureblood house, he was well versed in matters of etiquette, and thus it was almost by habit that he reached up his hands to aid Hermione in exiting as well. She looked as if she would rather just jump down and ignore him, but in the end she accept his help and descended gracefully. "Thank you," she muttered quickly and started walking toward the castle at once. Harry extended his aid to Luna as well, since it would be rather rude not to. She smiled brightly at him as she said thank you and skipped off after Hermione. Jimmy and Ron came next, hopping down effortlessly, Ron scowling at him as he passed, the previous politeness all but absent now.

Harry shrugged at him, but said nothing.

He hung back from the others, stopping to pet the Thestral again.

He waited until he saw Hagrid lead the first years through the front doors, delivering them to a rather severe looking witch with greying black hair and emerald green robes. If Harry hadn't already known from the man himself who this woman was, Harry would have wondered if this was the head of Slytherin House. She certainly had the look about her, but as he already knew Snape on a first-name basis, he knew better. This was Minerva McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House, Professor of Transfiguration, and member of the Order of the Phoenix.

Yet another name on his list there for the killing and he could do nothing. This was the most frustrating thing to ever happen to him.

He ran up the front steps of the castle, behind the group, and watched as Hagrid entered a side passage, presumably to take his place inside the Great Hall without having to walk through the whole room. Harry quickly found a shadow against the wall to melt into.

Outside the doors of the Great Hall, not too far away, McGonagall was giving a small speech to the first years.

"Now, in a few moments you will walk through these doors and join your classmates. However, before you can do this, you must be sorted. This process is simple and relatively painless," she stressed the word, and Harry noticed more than a few relieved looks among the group of first years. Harry wondered what sort of horror tales they had been told to warrant a Professor having to explain that there would be nothing dangerous involved in the sorting. Of course, had any of them bothered to read a book about Hogwarts, they would have already known about the Sorting Hat.

"There are four Houses," McGonagall went on, "Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor." She said 'Gryffindor' with far more pride than was necessary, or even warranted, in Harry's eyes.

The first years began chattering excitedly about what House they wanted to be in, and which ones they definitely did not.

A moment later, a ghost floated through the wall, a tall man in a doublet, tights and a ruff. He stopped in front of the group and smile. "Hello!" He turned to McGonagall. "They are ready for you now." With those few words, he floated back into the wall and disappeared.

McGonagall waved her hand and the doors opened as one, and she ushered for the children to follow her as she led them into the Great Hall.

Harry waited until they were inside before he too followed. He wasn't sure why he was hanging back like this, but he chalked it up to his not feeling comfortable with being in a group of first years. Or it was his fondness for the theatrical and dramatic, a voice that sounded disturbingly like Barty told him in his head.

He shook his head and leaned against the doorway of the Great Hall. No one noticed him, save one. Harry pointedly ignored the large luminous eyes of Luna gazing over at him with unveiled curiosity. Hermione, who was sitting next to the blonde, turned to say something but when she found her friend's attention otherwise occupied, she followed her gaze and frowned at Harry before whispering something to Luna.

The Sorting Hat, as it turned out was a ragged old leather, pointed wizard's hat with a line of stitching across the front in some semblance of a mouth.

Harry was loath to admit it, but he jumped a bit when the Hat suddenly opened its stitching and began to sing in a loud, harsh voice.

In times of old when I was new,

And Hogwarts barely started,

The Founders of our noble school

Thought never to be parted.

United by a common goal

They had the selfsame yearning

To make the world's best magic school

And pass along their learning.

"Together we will build and teach."

The four friends decided.

And never did they dream that they

Might some day be divided...

The song went on to explain the qualities sought by each founder and then of their inevitable division. Telling of how all four of them turned on each other, until finally Slytherin departed and the remaining three were able to reconcile their differences. The hat also spoke of House unity and how, like the four pillars of a house, unless they work together, the whole infrastructure would come crumbling down.

After this, the sorting ceremony began.

Harry waited patiently until McGonagall neared the P's.

Pearson, Timothy became a Gryffindor. Peasegood, Ellie went to Ravenclaw, Pine, Christoph joined Gryffindor soon after.

McGonagall looked at the next name on the list and her eyes grew wide. She looked over her shoulder at Dumbledore with a bewildered expression, then back to the parchment. Her mouth worked opened and closed but no words came out.

The students were growing curious, some standing to get a better view of what was going on. Luna was still looking right at him.

Finally, McGonagall found her voice and spoke in a croaking whisper so quiet that Harry doubted that the first years in front of her even heard her. She seemed to realize this and cleared her throat. "Harry Potter!"

There was a moment of silence as everyone took in what she had said. Of course, they were wondering how this could be possible; Harry Potter had been dead for fifteen years after all. Then the murmuring began as McGonagall spoke again. "HARRY POTTER!" She was looking at the group of first years as if they might be hiding him amongst them.

Finally, Harry pushed off the wall and strode into the Hall.

Every eye was suddenly on him and pandemonium erupted as everyone was suddenly clamoring to get a better look at him.

Harry kept his eyes forward and his face neutral. The first years parted before him with awed and even frightened expressions on their faces. McGonagall was looking at him as if seeing a ghost, which, Harry supposed, in a way, she was.

Harry forced a smile onto his face as he reached the older witch. Minerva was in shock and there were tears in her eyes. Her hand came up to her mouth as he stepped passed her and picked up the Sorting Hat and sat down casually. He looked over to the Gryffindors and caught Jimmy looking at him with a mixture of wonder and betrayal. Harry frowned and winked at him, hoping he'd get the message that he would explain to the boy later. And who was that next to him? Was that Neville Longbottom? It was. He looked rather worse for wear. Harry smirked. Well, this just got even more interesting.

"Well then," came a voice inside Harry's head. "This is most curious indeed."

Harry rolled his eyes up so that he was looking in the general direction of the Hat.

"This is difficult, very difficult. So much to sort through. Courage, Cunning, Intellect, Loyalty, you seem to have it all. But there's more. Yes, so much more. Anger. Hate. And darkness, so much darkness. Life has not been kind to you, has it? The things you've seen, the things you've done. So much darkness."

Harry frowned. He hoped the Hat couldn't see what he had planned for this year at the school.

As if to answer him, the Hat said, "Oh yes, I see you. And I see your purpose. And I see what will come of it. Fire. Blood. Death. So much death. Were it not for that I cannot tell anyone of what I see inside of students' heads, your plans would fail here, but as I cannot speak of it, I must, against my own wishes, ignore it. So, where do I put you? Slytherin, I think would be the place for you. No? You do not wish it to be so? You are very brave, there is no denying that. If you were not, you would not be here now. Gryffindor perhaps. No? Ah, a desire to not be like your father. I see. Well, then, I know where to put you after all. Here, I think you will find something you have long been lacking in life. So, I think it shall be-"

"RAVENCLAW!"

Harry sighed in relief as he took the Hat from his head. One of the tables was cheering loudly, or more so than the others. Except the Slytherins, Harry noted, who were looking betrayed. None more so than Pansy. Draco, if anything, looked relieved. A sentiment that Harry shared with the blonde ponce.

Harry made his way over to the Ravenclaw table, where he found two people who weren't cheering, though they did clap politely, one a little more happily than the other. Luna and Hermione were sitting side-by-side and he took a seat directly across from them. Where as Luna was smiling serenely, which Harry was starting to think was her default expression, Hermione was quiet and subdued, though her eyes said she would definitely be having words with him soon. He detected an undercurrent of shock there as well, but she hid it as quickly as it had come.

Harry was unfazed by this. He had expected there to be quite a bit of people asking questions of him.

The Hall quieted and Harry realized that Dumbledore had stood up and was now looking out over them all with his hands raised for silence. Harry studied the man. This was the first time he had seen him in person, having not really noticed him all that much when he had entered.

He was tall, thin, with long silver hair and a beard of the same color that was so long Harry didn't doubt that he could tuck into his belt if the fancy took him. Despite his age, he moved with an ease and grace of a far younger man. Harry had no illusions that age had made him any less agile or capable. Nor did he doubt the man's power.

"Welcome! Welcome. Welcome to our returning students, but more than that, welcome to all the new faces." He smiled down at them, pausing a moment to look in Harry's direction. "Now, before we get settled in to our delicious feast, I would first like to say a few words. Though fear not, as I shall keep it brief. First years, please note that the Forbidden Forest is, well, forbidden to all students, save when accompanied by a Professor or other member of the staff." He looked around at a couple of people, Jimmy in particular, who only grinned sheepishly. "Also," He continued looking in Jimmy's direction, "First years are not allowed to bring their own broomsticks, nor are they allowed to fly outside of their lessons. A further list of banned items and practices can be found on the door to the office of our resident caretaker, Mr. Filch." Here he gestured to an older, rather worn looking man with long scraggly hair and a cat sitting at his feet. "I am told that it had grown quite extensive. Now, tuck in."

As he said this, the tables filled suddenly with foods of all sorts. Harry counted at least five different types of potatoes alone. Now, having been raised in a proper pureblood home, and taught to eat in moderation, Harry found the amount of food to be grossly excessive. That being said, he selected himself a juicy steak, cooked medium rare, and some roasted potatoes and greens. He ate slowly, as was his wont, and sipped from his glass of water between each bite.

He noticed Hermione watching him the entire time, even as she herself feasted on some roast duck and various garnishes. Of course, she was not alone in this. Luna, as well as several others at their table were all sneaking glances at him when they thought he wasn't looking. Harry even noticed one of the first years trying to mimic his eating habits; the way he held his utensils, the way he cut the meat, the way he placed down his utensils as he chewed, and then the way he would completely swallow and then take a sip of water before resuming the meal. He found this terribly amusing for some reason. What was the girl's name? Peasegood? Yes that sounded right. The Peasegoods were cousins to the Crouch family as well as the Blacks, Longbottoms and Weasleys.

When they had all seemingly finished their meals, the rich and savory foods were replaced with desserts of equal variation. Harry, not being one for sweets, looked at it all and could already feel his jaw hurting. But, so as not to look out of place, and to see if his little mimic would keep up their little game, he selected a slice of treacle tart, which, he was surprised to find, he rather enjoyed. His little mimic did the same, though to not as much enjoyment as he. He couldn't help but smile at the girl as she pouted but finished her ill-chosen dessert.

After dessert, Dumbledore dismissed them to their dorms, but before Harry could so much as stand, there was a small man, maybe just a little over a meter in height, with dark hair and a rather impressive mustache at his side. "Potter, I am Professor Flitwick, your Head of House."

Harry put on a smile. "Hello."

Flitwick nodded in return. '"Professor Dumbledore has requested your presence in his office immediately. There is much we must discuss. I'm sure you understand. The circumstances of your arrival are unusual to say the least, and we were frankly unprepared for another student, let alone one such as yourself."

Harry suppressed a feeling of dread that had suddenly wormed its way into his chest. "Of course, sir. Am I to assume that you will be accompanying me?"

Flitwick nodded again. "Indeed I am. As your Head of House, it would be improper to send you off alone."

Harry stood up, towering high over the little man. "Lead the way, Professor."

Harry followed the Professor to the second floor; not too far a walk, all things considered. And they stopped in front of a large statue of a winged gargoyle.

Flitwick looked up at the gargoyle and said, "Cockroach Clusters."

With a flap of its wings, the gargoyle moved aside to reveal a winding staircase behind it.

Flitwick motioned Harry to follow him as he started up the stairs.

"So, Professor, what subject do you teach?" Harry asked, even though he already knew from Jimmy talking about it on the train.

"Charms," the small man answered. "And, if you are who you say you are, who you seem to be, I expect you'll do well in my class. Your mother was quite skilled as I remember. And your younger brother, well, the boy is a charms prodigy."

Harry scowled behind the Professor's back at the mention of his mother, but Flitwick did not notice it, given that he was facing away from Harry at the time.

"What do you mean 'if I am who I say I am'?" he asked.

Flitwick waved a hand as he spoke. "Merely that I find it to be quite amazing that you even exist, seeing as Harry Potter has been legally dead for near fifteen years, and suddenly out of nowhere you appear claiming to be him. I, frankly, find this difficult to believe. Now, don't take that the wrong way, as I mean no disrespect. It is just so extraordinary..."

Harry nodded, though he was more than a little annoyed at having his identity doubted. "To be honest, sir, I found it a bit difficult to believe myself when my guardian told me."

Flitwick squeaked a bit. "Oh, you have a guardian?" he asked, coming to a stop.

Harry frowned. "Had. He died. That's why I'm here. He told me the truth on his deathbed. Before that, I didn't know who I was, merely that I had been found as a child and he had taken me in."

Flitwick looked a bit sad. "I am sorry to hear that," he said.

They made the rest of the climb in silence.

When they reached the top of the staircase, they found themselves faced with a solid, plain wooden door. It was quite unremarkable, if Harry had any opinion on it.

Flitwick knocked on it thrice, and they heard the Headmaster call out for them to enter. Harry idly wondered how he had gotten back to the office before them, as Harry and Flitwick had left straight from the feast, and Dumbledore had still be there at the end. Though Harry allowed that perhaps he had left before them while Harry was talking to Flitwick at the table. Not that it really mattered in the end.

Dumbledore was standing in front of a window with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing out into the night. Harry immediately felt all of his defenses go up, and he had to force his muscles to relax, lest he give himself away. His mental shields he left at full strength though. He was wanted to be open, not foolish.

Dumbledore looked over at them and smiled. "Thank you, Filius, that will be all, I think."

Harry looked down at Flitwick, who looked reluctant to leave. "If that is what you wish, Headmaster."

Dumbledore nodded, his eyes twinkling. "Oh, I think Harry and I can manage. You have classes first thing tomorrow, and will need your rest. After all, I think it would be a shame if you were unable to properly teach due to lack of sleep, and I fear Harry and I may be here for some time. There is much to discuss as you know."

"Yes, but-"

"I will fill you in on all that transpires here, I assure you, Filius. You are not the only one with an interest here."

Flitwick must have realized he was getting nowhere and sighed. "Yes, Headmaster. Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, sir," Harry said amiably.

Dumbledore waited until Flitwick had left the office and had time to get down the staircase before he turned to Harry and spoke. "Forgive me if I seem a bit rude or controlling, Harry. It is difficult business running a school such as this. And it can sometimes be a task to keep everything flowing as it should. And Filius, he means well, but I'm afraid this goes well beyond his station, even as your Head of House."

Harry nodded. "I understand, sir."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Now, now, Harry. I knew you as a baby, and I see that child in the man standing before me now. There is no need to stand on ceremony here. You may call me Albus."

Harry frowned. "Erm, alright, sir – I mean, Albus."

Dumbledore smiled. "Good lad. Now," he moved behind his desk, gesturing to the chair on the opposite side of it, "Won't you have a seat?"

Harry sat down as Dumbledore did the same.

"I must say, Harry, that it came as some surprise when your name was called out tonight. The Sorting List is a magical tool, and it is so rarely wrong. It is much like the Sorting Hat itself, or the Goblet of Fire in this regard. Near impossible to fool." He glanced briefly at a shelf, where Harry noticed the Sorting Hat watching them silently. "I, like so many others, believed you long dead. As for myself, I am glad to see that reports of your demise have been greatly exaggerated." His eyes twinkled merrily as he said this. "Though it must be said that your return has come at a most turbulent time, I'm afraid. People are scared, Harry. Just recently, two very well-respected Aurors were brutally assaulted in broad daylight in Diagon Alley by Death Eaters. They were tortured into insanity, if one can call a trauma induced coma 'insanity'. But, I think, seeing that you are, in fact, not dead may have a positive effect on the community at large."

Harry swallowed, keeping any other reaction to Dumbledore's words hidden. "I had heard about the attack, Headmaster, er, Albus. But, if I may ask, how would my return have a positive effect?"

"Well, it is my belief that seeing you alive will help to dispel some of the fear, and help diminish the legend that surrounds Lord Voldemort." He paused here, as if expecting some reaction. Harry supposed it was because most jumped or winced at just the mention of the Dark Lord's name. Harry however showed no reaction whatsoever. "If it can be seen that a mere child survived him, then I think we can start turning the public opinion that he is unbeatable around. He is, after all, only human, despite what he and his followers would have us all believe."

Harry nodded. "I'll help in any way I can."

"That is good, Harry," Dumbledore smiled. "I had hoped you would say that. Now, I do believe that there are many questions that remain to be answered, if you would permit me to ask."

Harry waved his hand in a 'go ahead' manner.

"Thank you, Harry." He chuckled. "Forgive me, I don't know if saying your name and actually having a living face to put it to will ever lose its novelty, I'm afraid."

Harry only smiled. "I'm still only getting used to it myself, sir."

"What did I say, Harry? You may call me Albus."

"I know, sir," Harry said. "But it just doesn't feel right. Not yet. It would imply that we are equals."

Dumbledore seemed amused by this. "We are equal, Harry, are we not?"

Harry shook his head. "No, sir. I would be foolish to consider myself as such. You are perhaps the greatest wizard alive today."

"You flatter me, Harry," Dumbledore chortled. "I am an old man, and my best years are behind me."

Harry smirked. "Somehow, I doubt that, sir."

If it was possible, the twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes increased in intensity. Harry noted this as he felt a small, probing touch against his mental shields, but it retreated almost as fast as it had come, leaving Harry to wonder if it had been there at all.

"We seem to have gotten off topic," Dumbledore said. "Now, the most obvious question would be: how did you survive?"

Harry shrugged. "Honestly, sir, I don't remember. I was a baby after all. The earliest memory I have, I was wandering along a street and was found by a wizard, who took me in."

"Who was this wizard?" Dumbledore asked.

"His name was Bartholomew King, and he took me with him back to his home in New Zealand."

Dumbledore nodded. "And, did this Bartholomew know who you were when he took you?"

Harry shook his head. "Not at first. It wasn't until he saw an article about me still being missing and presumed dead that he put the pieces together. There was a photo of my parents in the article and he noticed the similarities. I only found out recently. He was dying, you see, and he told me the truth soon before he passed. So, the only family I had known was dead, and I was left with nothing but a name and a choice. Stay and try to scrape a living off the land, as he had, or return to Britain and try to find my parents. I chose the latter. And now, here I am."

"I take it then that you have no formal education in magic then?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry shook his head. "No, sir. I have some practical training from my adoptive father, and I have read extensively, but I have not attended any schools."

"You will have to take a placement test then, so that we can determine where you fall." Dumbledore pulled out a piece of parchment and began to write. "I will send a missive to the Ministry to have this all prepared. And to have your death certificate destroyed. I hold much sway within the Ministry, so this will not be difficult, though it may cause a bit of a stir. Not so much as we will see when word of your return reaches the Daily Prophet, at which point everyone will know about it. And you will have to arrange a meeting with Gringotts, as I'm sure there will at least be something for you there. But before that, I think you should meet your family. I know for sure they will want to meet you. Oh, poor Lily will be beside herself. I'm sure little James has already sent an owl to them telling them all about the Sorting, as I'm sure many others have done. By the morning, I fear half the island and perhaps even the continent will know that you live."

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Blimey. I didn't realize how big a deal this was going to be."

"You underestimate your value, dear boy. There are some, though a minority, who have never doubted that you survived that night. They call you The-Boy-Who-Lived, and now, they will be proven correct, despite having been considered fools for so long." He folded up the parchment and held it up. Suddenly, there was a burst of flame and Harry had a short view of a magnificent bird within the fires, wings spread and its beak opened as it emitted a cry, then the bird and the parchment were gone. Dumbledore noticed Harry's wide eyes. "I do apologize. I forget how startling Fawkes can be to people who have never seen a Phoenix before."

Harry shook off his surprise. "That was a Phoenix?"

"Yes. Fawkes is perhaps my oldest friend, save for..." he trailed off here, but quickly recovered and continued as if he had not paused. "I earned his companionship in my youth and he has been my loyal friend and ally ever since."

Harry was impressed. He knew Phoenixes were rare, very rare, and for a wizard to have gained one as his companion, or familiar as the case may be, was nothing to make light of. Harry was reminded again of how old and truly powerful Dumbledore was and was even more assertive of his earlier comment that they were not equals. And the longer this went on, the more Harry realized the mountainous task set before him.

They spoke for a while longer, and it was past midnight when Harry was finally sent off to get some sleep. Dumbledore opted to guide him to the Ravenclaw Tower, or the Aviary as he jokingly called it, as Harry did not know the way there.

They walked in silence, or near so, as Dumbledore was humming a rather upbeat tune as they walked.

On the fifth floor, they came to a small spiral staircase, similar to the one outside the Headmaster's office. They climbed it and found a solid doorway, with no doorknob or even a keyhole. Just a single bronze knocker in the shape of a bird's head. Harry noted that it looked more like an eagle than a raven and asked Dumbledore why this was. Even the House Crest was an eagle.

"I don't know," He admitted. "I never really thought about it. It is most curious, is it not. Ravenclaw is the name, but the eagle is the sigil. Most curious." He said nothing more than that as they stepped up to the door.

"There is a story, that a man and not a man saw and did not see a bird and not a bird perched on a branch and not a branch and hit him and did not hit him with a rock and not a rock. How can this be so?"

Harry looked questioningly at the knocker, which had just spoken to him in what sounded to either be riddle or complete nonsense. "Beg pardon?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "To enter Ravenclaw Tower, one must correctly answer a random riddle. It seems your first test as a member of this house will be quite an interesting one indeed." He had a shine of mirth in his eyes. "Would you like me to answer for you?"

Harry shook his head. "No. I think I can figure this out."

He went over the riddle again in his head, looking at each phrase like it was a puzzle unto itself, which, it turned out, it was. A man who was not a man? Saw and yet did not see. A bird that was not a bird. Sitting on a branch that was not a branch. And hit him but did not hit him. With a rock that was not a rock. How is this possible? After some hard thought and many second thoughts, Harry finally felt confident in his answer.

"A eunuch, who did not have good sight, saw a bat perched on a reed, and threw a pumice stone at him, which missed."

The door swung open with barely a sound.

Harry sighed. It had been difficult, but in the end, he had managed it.

Dumbledore was smiling at him. "Well done, Harry. That is an old riddle, very old. Plato, if I'm not mistaken." He turned to leave. "If things go to plan, there will a much greater riddle that I may require your assistance with when the time comes," he said cryptically. "Goodnight." Then he was gone.

Harry stood there for a moment, wondering what that could possibly mean. Finally, he shrugged and went inside the Tower. He'd worry about that when the time came. For now, he desired to sleep.

XXXX

Well, there it is. Another chapter down.

As always, REVIEW and let me know your thoughts, or any questions you may have. Thank you.

Saw Captain America: Civil War last night. It was awesome. 10/10, in my book. But that's neither here nor there. I have thought about writing a Bucky/Natasha story at some point, but again, that's neither here nor there. Unless you think I should add it to the poll. I don't think so though because I would have to restart the poll. Though i am also considering making The Son of the Dragon part of this story. Let me know what you think.