The legalities: I don't own any of the characters from the original Harry Potter works, which pretty much leaves me with Dr. Tony. I guess I won't be making any money off this after all. Bummer.

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11. Houseguests

The next week brought Harry's second therapy session. Harry talked a bit more about his life with the Dursley's, how he was adjusting to living with Albus, and for some reason, how Quidditch compared to muggle ice hockey. They also explored what Dr. Tony (as he preferred to be called) termed Harry's 'root cause' – that he was feeling overwhelmed by negative and depressing thoughts. Harry had never really wanted to hurt himself, he just didn't know how to cope with these dark emotions. But together, they would find a healthy way to move Harry past those thoughts. The Doctor gave Harry homework of a sort; to bring a list of fifteen things he could do when he starts feeling overwhelmed to their next session.

The day after his session was Harry's sixteenth birthday. Oddly enough, there had been no gifts at midnight, even though he had stayed awake for his usual celebration. But when he came down in the morning, he found a surprise waiting, courtesy of Albus and Dobby. There was cake and ice cream for breakfast, which was then followed by gifts. Albus gave him a new quill made from the tail feather of a certain phoenix. He explained to Harry that a writing quill made from a phoenix feather could last a lifetime, as it was nearly impossible to break (fire being its only weakness). It was a rare and valuable gift, and Harry appreciated not only the gift, but the significance behind it, that Albus felt he was worthy of such a gift.

Dobby's gift would be helpful when school restarted. He had drawn Harry a map of the Middle Tower, complete with 2 secret passageways and a hidden room at the top of the tower. Albus smiled warmly as Dobby explained that after Harry's 'secret room' was discovered last year, he had made it his job to find Harry a new one. When Harry left the table, he went to his room to stow the drawing with the Marauder's Map. He had been right, it was definitely time for an update!

Waiting in his room for him were owls bearing gifts. Tossing some treats on his desk, he removed the letters and packages and then settled on his bed to open them. Along with the usual chocolate frogs, books, and stationary, he had found his very own Extendable Ear, courtesy of the twins. Ginny had sent him a black T-shirt which read "no, that's not a wand in my pocket", suggesting that perhaps he had best not wear it around her mother. Everyone's letters where full of updates on their summers, and pleas for him to find out when they could all get together. Ron and Ginny also spent time complaining about Bill's fiancé, who was staying with them. One bright spot was Ginny's comment that 'I've written Dean that I won't be writing him, if that made any sense. It must have, he sent back a note saying OK with him. Should I be relieved or offended by that?'

Harry quickly wrote out thank-you notes, with promises to see them all at Diagon Alley some time in August. After Hedwig and the other owls left, Harry headed outside for a day of flying and exploring. He wanted to give that secret passage into the chapel another try, just to make sure it wasn't a one-time thing. With Albus' permission, (and promises to actually eat them) he even took a sandwich and an apple, so he didn't have to return for lunch.

The day was rounded out with 'traditional breakfast food' served as dinner because, as his guardian explained, they were eating in reverse order to mark the special day. Nothing earth-shattering had happened, but to Harry it was one of his best birthday's to date, right behind his first (which he didn't remember, but he knew had been special), and of course his eleventh, which was special because that's when he found out he was a wizard.

It was a few days later that Albus informed Harry that they would be having a guest, who would be staying with them until it was time to return to Hogwarts. Harry started to worry when Albus wouldn't tell him who the guest was, only saying "you will know soon enough, now off you go." Deciding it did him no good to worry, Harry spent that morning flying with Hedwig and practicing the Wronski Feint in the meadow. It was a good thing no one but Hedwig was watching, because he crashed twice before he got it down. Luckily, he had been going rather slow, at least by Firebolt standards, so he didn't get seriously injured, but he did have a few cuts and bruises, a sore wrist, and was covered in mud. He snuck up to his room for a quick shower, and easily convinced Dobby to help with some minor healing. As he entered the dining room for lunch, he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight that greeted him.

Seeing his reaction, Albus chuckled. "I trust you recognize our guest, Harry. Why don't you have a seat so lunch can be served?"

Harry moved to take his seat. "Of course, Sir. Good afternoon Professor. You, er, look different with your hair down. It's nice, though," he quickly added.

"Why thank you Mister Potter," responded Minerva McGonagall, "or should I say Harry? I'm not your professor right now; I suppose you could call me a friend of the family. And I often wear my hair down when I am not working."

"It helps to remind her that she is supposed to be relaxing," added Albus. "So Minerva, how is that sister of yours?"

Harry spent the rest of the meal hearing about his Head's extended family. He, like most students, knew next to nothing of their professors' personal lives, so he found himself rather fascinated. He was told that Helena, Minerva's sister, was a few years older than Minerva, and looked much like her, but was quite the free spirit. Harry spent a few minutes trying to picture his strict Professor acting like Luna Lovegood, but he just couldn't see it. Helena sounded like someone he would enjoy meeting, and he said as much.

"Perhaps when you are older, and a bit less impressionable" was her brisk reply.

As another Tuesday rolled around, Albus explained to Minerva that he and Harry had a standing appointment, and they would be leaving after dinner. Thankfully, she never questioned the nature of the appointment, at least not that Harry heard.

As the week had progressed, Harry had come to realize that the addition of his other Professor didn't change the routine he and Albus had set. He also realized why Albus had two desks in his study area. He was slowing getting comfortable being around her in this informal setting. Well, as comfortable as one can be living in close quarters with the school's strictest professor. It helped, he reasoned, that she left most days shortly after lunch, often returning just in time for dinner or even later, allowing he and Albus to have their time together.

Harry was brought from his musings by Albus telling him it was time to leave. Once at his appointment, the hour seemed to go quickly. He and Dr. Tony had their usual update about how he was coping with his negative thoughts ('they aren't constant anymore, but they are still there') and his improving eating habits, before covering the deeper topics. The doctor helped Harry realize that his life had not suddenly spun out of control. It had 'unraveled' slowly, starting more than a year ago with what Harry called 'that stupid tournament'. Getting it back under control would take time, but he had taken an important first step in deciding to place himself in his Professor's care. 'Uncle Albus? No. Al, maybe? What do I call him?' This whole family thing was pretty easy, although admittedly it hadn't been put to any tests, so to speak.

After a quick stop for ice cream, they headed home to spend a relaxing night introducing Minerva to a new game Albus had found – Candyland.

A few days later there was a new excitement; an owl arrived during breakfast with a letter for Harry – a very official looking letter. O.W.L. results. Harry took the letter from the owl with trepidation, looking at his professors as he did so. They were both watching him, slight smiles on their faces. "I suppose you already know what this says, Professor?" Harry asked the question while looking at Minerva, but it was Albus who answered.

"Indeed we do, Harry. But we wouldn't want to spoil your fun. Why don't we retreat to the sitting room so you can open your very important letter, and we can discuss your scores and options?" It may have sounded like a question, but Harry knew it really wasn't. He quickly finished his orange juice, and then followed Minerva to the sitting room.

Harry took his usual seat on the couch, Albus his recliner (foot rest up so you could see the ears of his bunny slippers), and Minerva a rocking chair. Harry felt a strange rush of something – he couldn't quite place what – as he looked at the two. They were sitting comfortably in their seats, a far cry from the strict image they normally projected, sitting upright behind their desks at school. 'But we're not at school, we're home.'

Harry was reminded of his purpose when Albus cleared his throat. He tore open the envelope, and skipped straight to his results:

Astronomy …. A
Care of Magical Creatures …. E
Charms …. E
Defense Against the Dark Arts …. O
Divination …. P
Herbology …. E
History of Magic …. D
Potions …. E
Transfiguration …. E

He wasn't sure how he felt about his scores. On one hand, he hadn't gotten an 'O' in Potions (which he knew was a long shot). He had, however, gotten the 'O' in Defense that, he would now admit aloud, he had been expecting. He looked at his guardian, and was confused by the look on Albus' face. He was tempted to think it was pride, for it was very similar to the looks he got from Professor Lupin during their Patronus lessons.

Yes, Albus was definitely smiling as he spoke, "Very well done, Harry. You were the only student in your class to achieve an 'O' in Defense this year, although several only narrowly missed. One does wonder how high the others' scores would have been if you had been able to continue your tutoring sessions." Harry thought that was a nice way to refer to his illegal study group.

"Yes, Harry, I agree your scores are quite acceptable," said Minerva. "You scored a very high 'E' in Transfiguration, and I believe you only missed the 'O' in Charms by 3 points. I always knew you were capable."

Harry was slightly embarrassed by the praise, especially considering he had two failing grades. "Thank you Professors, but I think you are overlooking a few grades. I didn't do so well in Divination. I may not have 'the sight', but even I saw that one coming." Harry was certain he heard Minerva snort. "And History, well, that was sure to be bad, considering what happened."

Albus looked at Harry and spoke. "Indeed, a most unfortunate occurrence. Believe me when I say that overall, you performed admirably, considering your rather troubled year. Consider this: for months, you were being tormented by dreams from Voldemort – we always use the name here, Minerva," Albus said as his eyes shifted to her briefly, "and you were being persecuted by one of your teachers. A teacher who did all but teach, I might add. People around you treated you horribly, and you felt abandoned. Correction, you were abandoned. And yet, you managed to earn 7 O.W.L.s. Can you imagine how well you would have done if you had had a nice, quiet year like your classmates?"

Harry looked between his two professors, and saw that they were both smiling at him.

Minerva spoke again. "Albus is right. You can be proud of your scores. You are a gifted wizard, full of potential. You know my feelings on both Divination in general, and Sybil Trelawney in particular." Minerva stopped for a moment to see if Albus was going to say anything. When he didn't comment, she continued, "I'll let you in on a little secret. Very few of her students have ever scored higher than an Acceptable, and many have earned P's or lower."

She waited a moment for her words to sink in, and then continued. "Perhaps now is a good time to discuss your classes for next year. I hope I am not presuming too much in offering my advice?"

"Of course not." answered Harry. "I'd welcome any good advice. In second year I didn't have any. I don't think just picking the same classes as Ron was the best strategy, but I was twelve and wasn't exactly thinking of my future career. Actually, I think Hermione was probably the only student in our class, or at least in Gryffindor, that was already thinking that far ahead."

Minerva seemed to agree. "It does seem odd to have students make such important choices at such a young age, wouldn't you agree Albus?" As Albus nodded his agreement, she continued, "That's why Hogwarts offers Abridged O.W.L.s to 6th and 7th Years. These are only offered for the elective classes, such as Ancient Runes, as those teachers have the time in their schedules. Basically, you condense 3 years' worth of lessons into a 2-year period, so you have to be serious about your studies. Many students pick up an extra O.W.L. or two in this manner. Others use these lessons to retake an O.W.L. they didn't pass the first time. Is there a specific class you wish you had taken?"

"Well, Hermione is always going on about how Arithmancy is her favorite subject. And I've looked through her Ancient Runes books, and it looks interesting. If I had taken one of those, I would have given myself more career choices."

"I thought you wanted to be an Auror?" Minerva asked, remembering her most interesting career counseling to date.

"Well, I do, in a way. It seems like I'm destined to fight evil wizards." Harry gave Albus a quick glance before looking back to Minerva. "But what if Umbridge is right and they won't accept me? And even if they do, I don't know that I really want to spend my whole life doing it. I think that once Voldemort is gone, I might like to do something a bit less, er, exciting."

"And did you have something in mind?" Albus wanted to know.

"Well, I think something like what Bill Weasley does sounds fun."

"Oh yes, curse breaking would be much less exciting," replied Minerva, rolling her eyes.

Albus intervened, "Now Minerva, Harry has a point. One look at Alastor tells us that dark wizard hunting is not a life-long career. It is wise of you to be thinking ahead, and taking an extra O.W.L. or two will certainly open more options to you. And there is still the matter of Potions. Even if you are considering other careers, it is a valuable class."

"But I didn't get an 'O'. Snape …" Harry saw Albus opening his mouth, and quickly corrected himself. "I mean Professor Snape will not let me in the class. I guess it's a good thing I'm considering other things, isn't it?"

Albus and Minerva shared a look, and then she explained. "Harry, Professor Snape does have the authority to reject students who do not achieve an 'O' on their O.W.L. He cannot, however, keep out a Head's Candidate. I believe I told you that I would see you become an Auror, and that includes taking Potions. Even if that is no longer your goal, I will see you enrolled in every class you want. Lord knows I've had to accept his Slytherins enough times."

"I'm sorry, but what's a Head's Candidate? I think I read something about it in Hogwarts: A History, but I don't remember what it was."

Minerva actually laughed at that. "Does Miss Granger know you have been reading her favorite book?" Seeing him shake his head, she continued. "Ah, going to surprise her, are you? Well, a Head's Candidate is someone who wants to continue a subject, but cannot be officially enrolled due to missing the required mark, in this case an 'O'. The only rules are that you must have passed the O.W.L., which you have, and you must be approved by your Head of House, which I dare say you are. You are allowed to attend the classes and complete all class work, and your work is corrected, but you do not get an official grade. Since there is no grade, homework is optional, although it is strongly suggested that you do it so as to be prepared. Your true goal, after all, is to learn." She gave Harry one of her sternest looks until he nodded his head in agreement. "At the end of your 7th Year, you sit the N.E.W.T. exam with the rest of your classmates. And dare I add the best part? As you are not a student, per se, you cannot be called upon during classroom discussions. That privilege is reserved for those who are earning an actual grade." Harry started to smile at this last comment. "If you are agreeable, I will inform Professor Snape of your placement."

Harry could hardly believe what he had heard. "No more losing points for not answering impossible questions? And he won't be hovering over my cauldron any longer? Professor, that's genius. I couldn't believe how easy my exam was without someone constantly belittling me. I accept. Thank you."

"You are quite welcome. I believe it's the least I can do. After all, Albus is not the only one who failed you in the past."

Before Harry could respond to this, Albus suggested they discuss Harry's other class options. It was eventually decided that Harry would take the Abridged O.W.L. classes for Arithmancy. He would also take N.E.W.T. level Charms, Defense, and Transfiguration. Along with Potions, that would give him 4 N.E.W.T.s (presuming he passed the exams), leaving him one short if he still wanted to be an Auror. His two professors had then told him, in strictest confidence of course, that he could sit the Care of Magical Creatures N.E.W.T. at the end of 6th Year with only a little studying. It was a well kept secret that Care of Magical Creatures was considered an easy N.E.W.T. by the professors because the exam was written entirely by Newt Scamander. All one had to do to pass was study Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, which Harry already owned.

Harry knew he was going to be in for a busy year, but was actually looking forward to the challenge. It was only when McGonagall mentioned Quidditch that Harry became anxious. She happily informed Harry that he was back on the team, as the Ministry had indeed rescinded all of Umbridge's decrees. Katie Bell had hesitantly accepted the Captain's position on the condition that Harry be willing to help, as it was her N.E.W.T. year. Minerva was surprised when Harry wasn't immediately excited, but Albus understood. He explained to Harry the importance of remembering to enjoy life, and hinted that Harry had the potential to 'view the World Cup from an entirely different angle'. By the end of the conversation, a now-excited Harry was describing his near-perfect Wronski Feint to his professors, oblivious to their concerned looks.

Eventually, Harry excused himself to write to Ginny about being back on the team. As he rose from his couch, Albus casually reminded him that perhaps he should write his other friends about his O.W.L. results and new class schedule (minus Potions, as he technically shouldn't know he was accepted yet). Harry blushed as he left the room; his professors sharing a laugh and a knowing look.

In his room, Harry debated sharing a growing suspicion with Ginny in his letter. In the few days McGonagall had been with them, Harry had already discovered that his professors often talked well into the night. And once, very early in the morning, he had thought he had seen her come out of the Headmaster's bedroom. But given that their bedrooms were next to each other, both at the far end of the hall, it was hard to be certain. Now, being almost sixteen, he wasn't exactly naïve, but he refused to consider what they might have been doing, if she was in fact leaving his bedroom at 6:00 AM, which she most definitely wasn't. Rumors of a 'relationship' between Dumbledore and McGonagall had reached his ears his second day at Hogwarts, but he had always assumed them to be tall tales. Now he wasn't so sure. 'there are just some mysteries I don't want to solve. Wouldn't Snape be surprised to hear that.' Harry ultimately decided to respect their personal lives, and not tell anyone his new suspicions (at least, not without more evidence).

-000-

'Another day and another surprise,' Harry thought to himself. He had been coming back in from his morning flight when he heard voices in the sitting area. They were muffled (he was hearing them through the kitchen door, after all), but he was sure he heard someone say 'here, kitty-kitty'. He entered the room to see McGonagall (or Minerva, as Albus would say) standing with not one, but two, men with long white beards. One obviously was his guardian, but the other looked like 'the bartender from the Hogs Head?'

Albus was the first to notice the boy. "Oh, Harry. I thought you were still out flying. Allow me to introduce you to my brother, Aberforth Dumbledore. Aberforth, this is Harry Potter, of course. I believe you have already met," Albus added with a meaningful look at Harry.

Aberforth gave Harry a glance, and turned back to his brother. "And why, exactly, is the Chosen One hiding in your cottage? Daily Prophet says he lives with Muggles."

"Well, I did," Harry replied before Albus had the chance. "But now I live here. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mister Dumbledore."

Aberforth gave his brother a calculated look, and then said to Harry, "I ain't 'Dumbledore'. That's my brother. Most people call me Aberforth, but you will call me Uncle Abe."

Albus glared at the other man. "Now Aberforth, you don't have to antagonize the boy."

"You just hush, Skipper," said Abe. "If you can play family, so can I. I've always wanted to be an uncle, but you never cooperated. At least not that I could prove," he said, winking to Harry. "Now we can both have what we wanted. You get a son to raise and teach, and I get a nephew to conspire with and corrupt. Free drinks at the Hog's Head for life, Harry. And not that sissy butterbeer, mind you, but the good stuff. You just come see ole' Uncle Abe and he'll fix you right up."

Albus and Minerva both seemed ready to interject, and Harry strongly suspected it wouldn't be to congratulate him on the generous gift, so he decided it would be prudent to change the subject. "Excuse me, er, Uncle Abe, but did you just call the Professor Skipper?"

"Sure did. That's what he thinks he is, a skipper. Always leading the troops, he is. Why, when we were young, he used to organize seaside tours for us and the goats. Never even let the fact that we didn't live near water stop him. He would borrow Mother's wand and turn the garden bench into a giant birdbath."

Albus didn't like where this was headed, so he tried to stop it. "Yes, Aberforth, I'm sure that everyone would love to listen to more of your stories, but I think Dobby most likely has lunch ready. You are of course invited to stay."

"Oh Albus, let the man tell his story," Minerva said with a huge smile on her face. "Personally, I would love to hear more about this birdbath. Tell me Aberforth, what did he use for water?"

But Albus tried again. "I really think lunch is about ready. Dobby was making his fresh tuna sandwiches with garlic chips, and you know that the chips get soggy if they sit too long." Unfortunately for him, Harry and Minerva were paying more attention to Abe's story than to him. He glanced toward the kitchen, only to find that Dobby had stopped serving lunch and was also listening to Abe.

Abe continued, "He was good at the transfiguration, but his conjuring left much to be desired, so he would fill the birdbath by funneling water from the upstairs bathtub, right out the window."

Albus countered, "In my defense, I was only ten at the time. And as I recall, you were the one that wanted to do something, what did you call it, oh yes, fun for the goats."

Harry interrupted, "You were doing that kind of transfiguration at ten? That's amazing. I'm not even sure I could do that now."

"Of course you could, Harry," replied Minerva. "You can do anything, you just have to work on your discipline. If you like, I can teach you a few 'tricks of the trade' that might help you in your studies."

Abe sighed loudly. "Yes, yes, let's ruin a perfectly good conversation by making it educational. Fine Skipper, let's go have your lunch. Lead on, oh mighty Skipper."

As the group moved to the patio for a lunch in the sun, Abe continued quietly to Harry. "He would take us for a walk around his birdbath, pointing out all the interesting sights, like the neighbor's cabbage patch and where we buried the dead canary."

"But that's not the reason you call him Skipper, is it?"

Abe gave Harry an appraising look. "You've figured me out. I do it to keep him grounded. Too many people treat him like he's infallible, above everyone else. He might be intelligent, but he's still human."

"So I've noticed," Harry mumbled, thinking back to the past year.

Abe wisely ignored the comment. "You know, you can call him Skipper, too. Like a code name, when you are talking with your friends. I assume no one knows of this living arrangement?" He saw Harry shake his head. "Much better than calling him 'my guardian' or 'the-other-you-know-who', although that one has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

"That's brilliant," Harry responded, laughing. "The Skipper one, I mean. They would never figure out who the Skipper is, because no one in there right mind would refer to the great Albus Dumbledore that way."

"Exactly. But what does that say about us, eh? I know, when you refer to him as Skipper, he can call you his little buddy."

Harry grimaced. "Er, I don't think so. That's just wrong in ways I don't even want to think about."

Abe and Harry finally sat down and joined the others for lunch, and Harry spent a delightful afternoon talking with the adults, and especially listening to his newly appointed Uncle Abe tell stories about a young Skipper. Before he knew it, supper was long over, as it was past 11:00. He said his goodnights, and headed to bed. Hoping his good mood would carry him to sleep easily, he fluffed his pillow and settled down to sleep.

A few hours later, Harry woke up suddenly, feeling the room spinning around him. He barely managed to keep himself from being sick all over his bed, hitting the floor instead. Once again, he had been having a perfectly normal dream, about Dobby making tiny socks for Hedwig of all things, when it had changed. Voldemort was sitting on his throne, and there were three young men kneeling in front of him. Harry thought he recognized one of them as a student three or four years ahead of him at Hogwarts, but he wasn't sure. Voldemort was ranting about the werewolves. It wasn't clear what these men were supposed to do, but they had definitely failed in a spectacular fashion. Voldemort casually stood, and disarmed and immobilized two of the men. He then forced 'Mr. Hogwarts' to watch as he slowly dismembered the frozen men. Their deaths were neither quick nor painless. Mr. Hogwarts was then put under crucio before being ordered to "take out this trash, and you had best not disappoint again."

Harry was shaking, and he could feel phantom pains in his arms and legs, just about where those unlucky Death Eaters had had theirs detached. His fingers were tingling, and he felt feverish. He needed to do something to get that image out of his head now! He climbed from his bed, and started to pace, eyeing his door every so often. At one point he looked down at the scar on his hand, but this time, it only reminded him of how alone he had felt last year. Only, he wasn't supposed to be alone anymore, he had someone he could count on now. But only if he was willing to go to him. He took a few more steps, then stopped himself, and looked at his owl. She moved from her perch to sit on top of a bedpost, and stared him in the eye. He reached out to stroke her feathers, more for his comfort than hers. He sighed and said "I know this is stupid girl, I'm almost an adult for heaven's sake, but I don't want to deal with this by myself. What do you think, should I go see Dumbledore?"

If she could, Hedwig would have shouted "halleluiah". As it was, she simply nodded her head. Harry looked at the clock. It was past 1:00 in the morning, but he knew the professor wouldn't mind. Harry gathered his nerve, left his room, and made his way down the hallway. He knocked on Albus' door, a little louder than normal so as to wake the man, and waited. When Albus answered, he took one look at Harry – pale, feverish, and still shaking – and motioned him into his room. He guided Harry to sit on the edge of his bed, and called for Dobby to bring a dreamless sleep potion and a glass of water. Putting his arm around Harry, he slowly coaxed the dream out of him. By the time Harry was finished with his tale, including how he'd felt when he woke up, he was leaning into Albus. Albus handed him the potion, and supported him until he was asleep. He then gently laid Harry in his bed, and tucked him in.

Looking across the room, he said, "I must apologize, but it appears that something a bit more important has arisen. I am sure you understand."

Albus waited as the tabby cat nodded her head, then jumped off of a chair and left the room. He gently closed the door, and split his large bed into two smaller ones. Settling on the one closest to the door, he cast a charm to wake him before Harry's potion wore off. Just hearing that dream, which he had no doubt had really happened, had left him unsettled. That Harry had come to him was encouraging, but he knew the teenager would probably be embarrassed come morning for giving in to the 'childish' need for comfort. He clearly remembered Minerva's description of Harry after last year's snake-vision. Seeing the boy now gave him a much greater understanding of what Harry was going through, and he didn't like it one bit. He vowed to himself that he would not fail; he would help that child to not just survive, but to thrive. He dimmed the lights, and settled down for a much needed rest.

** end chapter **

Notes: O.W.L. results copied from HP Lexicon, who I'm sure took directly from the book. I hope you liked my way of getting Harry into Potions class; without Slughorn there, Jo's way wouldn't work anymore.