Okay, here's those has-to-happen parts of the story. Horace Slughorn has to come to Hogwarts for Harry to get the memory, and Snape has to be DADA teacher because Dumbledore wants to keep him at Hogwarts. I know a lot of people probably want Snape to leave, but there isn't a viable reason for him to. Sirius being alive does not change that. Also, time to learn a few more things about Crystal Cottage and Crescent Valley.

Thanks for the reviews guys! I love reading them, even if I don't reply to them.

Friday morning, Harry packed his invisibility cloak, wand, and two-way mirror in his bag as Dumbledore's letter had instructed him. At Sirius' reminder, he hid the ankh under shirt.

At 10:30, he went down to the sitting room. Dumbledore had requested that they meet at the waterfall, so Sirius and Remus were walking him there. Stepping onto the path that led from Crystal Cottage, Harry breathed in the sweet-tasting air. They set out down the path, which was flat stone close to the cottage but became dirt further away.

Harry had never been very close to the waterfall before. The last part of the path was surrounded on both sides by weeping and Remus had both warned Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny not to pass this point. But today, Harry did not hesitate as he walked down the path.

Remus looked very much at home walking through the willows, his expression peaceful as he ran his hand through the gently flowing leaves.

The silence was broken by the roar of the waterfall, which could be heard as they entered a clearing. On the other side of the clearing was a cliff so high that Harry could not see the top, though he knew that Crescent Lake was at the very top, pouring over the other side of the cliff to form Crescent Falls.

At the base of the cliff was a cave, through which Harry could see the waterfall, which was so loud, he could hardly hear himself think.

Sirius pulled him back under the willows, and the sound of the falls disappeared.

"Why can't we hear it under the trees?" Harry asked.

"It's ancient Celtic magic. They planted these trees with enchantments." Remus said. "It is believed that the Celtic witches and wizards cultivated this valley to be a sort of hidden Eden, where one could meditate and be at peace with nature. Some believe they may have created the lake at the top of the falls in order to hide the entrance to the valley."

Harry hadn't realized just how magical the valley was. Remus must have had an interesting childhood, growing up in this place. The only place that probably held bad memories was the basement, where Remus sealed himself once a month, sometimes with Sirius, and transformed into a werewolf. Though the wards on the basement prevented Harry from hearing anything, he found it impossible to sleep knowing Remus was in pain.

At precisely 11 o'clock, they stepped back into the clearing and watched as a soaking wet Professor Dumbledore approached them from the cave entrance.

Harry was surprised when Remus and Sirius raised their wands. Remus muttered a few words, and strings of gold light burst from the end of his wand, looping and twirling in the air until they formed one word: October.

Dumbledore did the same with his wand, and a second word formed below the first.

October

Butterbeer

Harry wondered vaguely if that had any meaning behind it, but Remus and Sirius seemed to accept it, and they invited him underneath the willow trees.

"I had forgotten how pleasant a place this was." Dumbledore said, admiring the surrounding trees. "Few magical places in the world have been preserved so perfectly. It is thanks to your family, Remus, that it has been kept safe."

"Thank you, Professor." Remus beamed at the compliment.

"Now, then." He turned to Harry. "As I said in my letter, I would like you to come with me on one of my errands. Judging by your bag and eager expression, you are ready to leave."

"Yes, sir." Harry said.

"Then let us pass through the waterfall. I hope you don't have anything made of paper in your bag, as I don't think it will survive the journey."

Harry and Dumbledore bid Sirius and Remus goodbye, and then made their way through the cave. Dumbledore walked straight through the water without a flinch, but Harry ducked his head to avoid the powerful downpour.

Harry was surprised when he stepped into a small pond only a foot deep. Dumbledore caught his confused expression and explained.

"This is one of the things that makes this place so magical, Harry." said the headmaster. "The lake at the top of the cliff is rather large, and it pours a large amount of water over the edge every second, but there is neither a lake nor a river at the bottom. Our greatest wizarding minds have yet to solve this puzzle, though I daresay we will discover it is something rather simple."

"Maybe the water goes right back up to the lake." Harry suggested. "The Celts could have enchanted it that way, right?"

"Indeed they could have. And perhaps one day you will be the wizard who learns how they did it." Dumbledore said. As they stepped onto dry land, Dumbledore waved his wand, drying them both. "Wand at the ready, Harry. And you have your cloak?"

"Yes, sir." Harry pulled out his wand. "But I thought I couldn't use magic outside of Hogwarts."

"If we are attacked, I give you permission to use whatever jinx or countercurse that may occur to you. Though, considering you are with me, I do not think you will be in danger today." Dumbledore said. "Have you ever apparated before, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "You have to be seventeen to pass the test, right?"

"Indeed. Since this is your first time, hold tightly to my arm."

Harry took the arm that was offered to him, and noticed something wrong with the other. His right hand was blackened and shriveled.

"Sir, what happened to your-"

"That is a story for another time." Dumbledore said simply. "Ready?" Harry nodded, and the next thing he knew, everything went black.

He felt like he was being pressed from every direction. He could not breathe. His eyeballs were being forced back in his head and his eardrums were being pushed into his skull. An iron band was tightening over his chest and then -

He was suddenly able to take great lungfuls air and he stumbled away from Dumbledore. His body shook and he felt like vomiting. Once his breathing was back to normal, he stood and faced Dumbledore, who was waiting patiently.

"Sorry." He said.

"Don't apologize, dear boy. The first time is difficult for everyone. The feeling takes some getting used to." Dumbledore said, and Harry felt much better about it.

"I think I prefer brooms." Harry said. "Where are we?"

"This, Harry, is the charming village of Budleigh Babberton. We are here to visit an old colleague of mine." Dumbledore set off down the very empty street they had disapparated onto, at a faster pace than should be expected of a man his age.

As they made their way past the houses on either side, Dumbledore asked, "Sirius tells me your scar has not been hurting you as of late?"

Harry touched his forehead unconsciously. "No… and I've been wondering about that. I thought it would be burning, whatwith Voldemort gaining power."

He glanced up at Dumbledore, who looked satisfied. "I, on the other hand, thought otherwise. Lord Voldemort has finally realized the danger that your access to his thoughts and feelings poses, and he has begun employing Occlumency against you."

"Well, I'm not complaining." said Harry, and Dumbledore chuckled. "What are we visiting your colleague for?"

"As you know, Harry, I find myself once again short a staff member. We are here to persuade this colleague of mine to come out of retirement and return to Hogwarts."

"And how can I help with that?"

"Oh, I'm sure we'll find a use for you."

They made a right, then a left, and finally, they neared a small, neat stone house set in its own garden. "This is the place, Harry." As they approached the front gate, however, Dumbledore stopped dead.

The front door, Harry saw, was hanging off its hinges.

"Oh dear. Oh dear, dear, dear."

After checking the street for signs of anyone else, Dumbledore opened the gate. "Wand out and follow me, Harry."

Harry followed Dumbledore up the garden path. The professor slowly pushed the front door open.

"Lumos." He said, and Harry followed suit, both their wand tips igniting.

They stepped into the sitting room. It was a scene of total devastation. Furniture was tipped over and upholstery lashed open. A chandelier lay shattered on the floor in the center of the room and a grandfather clock lay splintered, face cracked, before them. Dumbledore raised his wand higher, so its light shown upon the walls, where something darkly red and glutinous was spattered over the wallpaper.

Harry gasped, and Dumbledore glanced back at him. "Not pretty, is it? Yes, something horrible has happened here."

"Maybe there was a fight and - and they dragged him, Professor?"

"I don't think so." said Dumbledore quietly, peering behind and overstuffed armchair lying on its side.

"You mean he's -"

"Still here somewhere? Yes."

And without warning, Dumbledore swooped, plunging the tip of his wand into the seat of the overstuffed armchair, which yelled, "Ouch!"

"Good evening, Horace." said Dumbledore, straightening up again.

Harry's jaw dropped. Where a split second before there had been an armchair, there now crouched an enormously fat, bald, old man who was massaging his lower belly and squinting up at Dumbledore with an aggrieved and watery eye.

"There was no need to stick the wand in that hard." he said gruffly, clambering to his feet. "It hurt."

"What gave it away? Was the blood too much?"

"My dear Horace," said an amused Dumbledore, "If the Death Eaters really had come to call, the Dark Mark would have been set over the house."

"The Dark Mark," the wizard muttered. "Knew there was something… ah well. Wouldn't have had time anyway, I'd only just put the finishing touches to my upholstery when you entered the room."

"Would you like my assistance clearing up?" asked Dumbledore politely.

"Please." said the other.

The two of them waved their wands and suddenly, the upturned, ripped furniture returned to a standing position, sewing itself back together. The shattered pieces of the chandelier flew back to their places hanging from the ceiling, and the grandfather clock stood up, the cracks and splinters returning to their former state. The blood wiped itself from the walls.

"What kind of blood was that, incidentally?" asked Dumbledore.

"On the walls? Dragon." the wizard called Horace said. "My last bottle, too, and prices are sky-high."

It was then that his gaze fell upon Harry.

"Oho," he said, his large round eyes flying to Harry's forehead and the lightning-shaped scar it bore. "Oho!"

"This," said Dumbledore, moving forward to make the introduction, "is Harry Potter. Harry, this is an old friend and colleague of mine, Horace Slughorn."

Slughorn turned on Dumbledore, his expression shrewd. "So that's how you thought you'd persuade me, is it? Well, the answer's no, Albus." He turned away from Harry, as if trying to to resist temptation.

"I suppose we can have a drink, at least?" asked Dumbledore. "For old time's sake?"

Slughorn hesitated. "All right then, one drink." He said ungraciously.

Dumbledore directed Harry toward a chair right beside the fire. It seemed that Dumbledore wanted to keep Harry as visible as possible for some reason. And when Slughorn turned around with three glasses, Harry was the first thing he saw.

He looked away immediately and passed them both their drinks without looking at Harry, taking a seat on the newly repaired couch.

Dumbledore attempted to make small talk, and soon the two old men were caught up in conversation.

"I imagine the Death Eaters would want you to turn your considerable talents to coercion, torture, and murder." said Dumbledore. "Are you really telling me that they haven't come recruiting you yet?"

"I haven't given them the chance. I've been on the move for more than a year. Never stay in one place more than a week. Move from Muggle house to Muggle house - the owners of this place are on holiday in the Canary Islands - it's been very pleasant, I'll be sorry to leave. It's quite easy once you know how, one simple Freezing Charm on these absurd burglar alarms they use instead of Sneakoscopes and make sure the neighbors don't spot you bringing in the piano."

"Ingenious." said Dumbledore. "But it sounds a rather tiring existence for a broken-down old buffer in search of a quiet life. Now, if you were to return to Hogwarts -"

"If you're going to tell me my life would be more peaceful at that pestilential school, you can save your breath, Albus!"

"Oh, I've plenty of breath to spend on the subject, Horace." said Dumbledore.

Slughorn harrumphed and no one spoke for a few minutes.

Dumbledore stood up rather suddenly. "I wonder if I might use the loo?"

Slughorn gave pointed him in the direction of the bathroom and Dumbledore strode from the room. There was silence for a few minutes, until Slughorn spoke.

"Don't think I don't know why he's brought you." he said.

Harry simply looked at Slughorn, whose eyes studied his face.

"You look very like your father."

"I've been told."

"Except for your eyes. You have-"

"My mother's eyes, yeah."

"Ah, Lily. Lovely Lily. She was, I admit, one of my favorite students. I know teachers shouldn't have favorites but your mother was one of the brightest I ever taught. Lily Evans. Clever, vivacious, and charming. I used to tell her she should have been in my House, and I'd get back some cheeky answers."

"Which was your house?"

"I was Head of Slytherin." said Slughorn. "Oh, don't go holding that against me! You're in Gryffindor, like her, I suppose? Yes, it usually runs in the family. Not always though. Your godfather, Sirius Black, for example. The whole Black family had been in my house for centuries, but Sirius ended up in Gryffindor. A shame if you ask me. I got his brother, Regulus, when he came along, but I'd have liked the set."

Harry thought he sounded like an enthusiastic collector who had been outbid at auction.

"Your mother was Muggle-born, of course. Couldn't believe it when I found out. Thought she must be pureblood, she was so good."

"One of my best friends is Muggle-born," Harry said. "And she's the best in our year."

"Oh, you mustn't think I'm prejudice, no, no. Your mother was one of my all-time favorite students. And there was Dirk Creswell the year after her, too - now Head of the Goblin Liaison Office, of course - he was Muggle-born, a very gifted student, and still gives me excellent inside information on the goings-on at Gringotts!"

He showed Harry a collection of photographs on the dresser. "All ex-students, all signed. There's Barnabus Cuffe, editor of the Daily Prophet, he's always interested to hear my take on the day's news. Ambrosius Flume, of Honeydukes. Gwenog Jones, captain of the Holyhead Harpies. People are always astonished to hear I'm on first-name terms with the Harpies, and free tickets whenever I want them!"

"And all these people know where to find you, to send you stuff?" asked Harry.

The smile slid from Slughorn's face. "Of course not. I've been out of touch with everybody for a year."

Harry had the impression that the words shocked Slughorn himself. He looked unsettled for a moment, but then shrugged.

"Still… the prudent wizard keeps his head down in such times. All very well for Dumbledore to talk, but taking up a post at Hogwarts just now would be tantamount to declaring my public allegiance to the Order of the Phoenix! And while I'm sure they're very admirable and brave and all, I don't personally fancy the mortality rate -"

"You don't have to join the Order to work at Hogwarts." said Harry. "Most of the teachers aren't in it, and none of them has ever been killed. Unless you count Quirrell, but he got what he deserved seeing as he was working for Voldemort."

Slughorn shuddered at the name.

"I reckon the staff are safer than most people while Dumbledore's headmaster. He's supposed to be the only one Voldemort ever feared, isn't he?"

"Well, yes, I suppose He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has never sought a fight with Dumbledore." Slughorn muttered. "And I suppose not joining the Death Eaters marks me as an enemy of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, in which case, I might well be safer a little closer to Albus…"

Dumbledore reappeared at that moment, surprising both of them.

"Ah, there you are, Albus." he said. "You've been a long while. Upset stomach?"

"No, I was merely reading the Muggle magazines." said Dumbledore. "I do love knitting patterns. Well, Harry, we have trespassed upon Horace's hospitality quite long enough. I think it is time to leave."

Harry jumped to his feet, but Slughorn seemed taken aback.

"You're leaving?"

"Yes, indeed. I think I know a lost cause when I see one."

"Lost…?"

"Well, I'm sorry you don't want the job, Horace." said Dumbledore, waving his uninjured hand in farewell. "Hogwarts would have been glad to see you back again. Our greatly increased security notwithstanding, you will always be welcome to visit, should you wish to."

"Yes… well… very gracious… as I say…"

"Good-bye then."

"Bye." said Harry.

They were at the front door when there was a shout from behind them.

"All right, all right, I'll do it!"

Dumbledore turn to Slughorn.

"You'll come out of retirement?"

"Yes, yes. I must be mad, but yes."

"Wonderful. Then I shall see you on the first of September."

"I daresay you will." said Slughorn. "I'll want a pay raise!" He called to them.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Well done, Harry." He said as they set off back down the hill.

"I didn't do anything."

"Oh yes you did. You showed Horace exactly how much he stands to gain by returning to Hogwarts. Did you like him?"

"Er…"

"Horace likes his comfort. He also likes the company of the famous, the successful, and the powerful." Dumbledore explained. "He enjoys the feeling that he influences these people. He has never wanted to occupy the throne himself; he prefers the backseat - more room to spread out, you see. He used to handpick favorites at Hogwarts, sometimes for their ambition or their brains, sometimes for their charm or their talent, and he had an uncanny knack for choosing those who would go on to become outstanding in their various fields. Horace formed a kind of club of his favorites with himself in the center, making introductions, forging useful contact between members, and always reaping some kind of benefit in return, whether a free box of his favorite crystallized pineapple or the chance to recommend the next junior member of the Goblin Liaison Office."

Harry had a sudden mental image of a great swollen spider, spinning a web around it, twitching a thread here and there to bring its large and juicy flies a little closer.

"I tell you all this," continued Dumbledore. "Not to turn you against Horace - or, Professor Slughorn - but to put you on your guard. He will undoubtedly try to collect you, Harry. You would be the jewel of his collection 'the Boy Who Lived'... or, as they call you these days, 'the Chosen One.'"

Dumbledore stopped walking. "This will do, Harry. If you will grasp my arm."

Harry took hold of Dumbledore's left arm and braced himself for the unpleasant feeling. When the pressure disappeared, he noticed they were back at Crescent Falls.

"Before we step through the waterfall once again, I would like a word with you, Harry." Dumbledore said.

They stepped close to the roaring water, but Dumbledore placed a charm around them so they could hear each speak, though someone on the outside could not.

"I trust you know that nobody has been told the full contents of the prophecy?"

"Actually, I was wondering about that - everyone seems to know that I'm the chosen one-"

"They do not, actually. But many have guessed, quite correctly, that Voldemort was trying to steal a prophecy that night, and that it had to do with the two of you. Now, have you told anybody the full contents of the prophecy?"

"Well, I…"

Dumbledore smiled. "It is fine, if you have. I believe your two guardians, as well as Miss Hermione Granger and Mr. Ron Weasley ought to know."

"I told all four of them." Harry admitted. "But just them."

"A wise decision. They are the people you trust the most, and they will keep your secret as well. Now, on a related subject, it is my wish that you take private lessons with me this year."

"Private - with you?" said Harry, surprised. "What will you be teaching me, sir?"

"Oh, a little of this and a little of that." Dumbledore said airily.

"So if I'm taking lessons with you, will I still have to take Occlumency lessons?"

"No, you will not have time."

"Good, because they were…"

"I think 'fiasco' would be the right word here."

Harry laughed.

"Now, I think we should get you back to Crystal Cottage before your godfather comes charging through the waterfall."

The October-Butterbeer thing was a way for them to communicate without speaking because they can't hear each other over the roar of the waterfall. You can only hear people speak once you reach the willows, and they weren't going to let anyone pass without being sure they are who they say they are.

Until next time, guys!