Albus Dumbledore looked up at the ramshackle home in front of him and hoped that he was not too late. He walked briskly toward the front door and knocked on it three times. It was opened almost immediately by a matronly looking redhead wearing an apron.
"Albus, what can I do for you?" she asked. "Care for some lunch?"
"I'm afraid this is not a social call, Molly. I need to speak with Ronald," Dumbledore said, looking grave.
Molly frowned, "Has he done something else? Is this about the car?"
"No Molly, nothing like that," he reassured her. "I need to ask him about his pet rat."
She raised an eyebrow in confusion, but knew better than to question the wizened Headmaster. "Of course. Make yourself at home." She walked into the house to find her youngest son.
Albus wandered absentmindedly to the kitchen and took a seat at the table, hoping to find the rat and have Sirius cleared before dinner.
Peter Pettigrew ran as fast as his animagus legs would allow away from the Burrow. He would find his Master; he had no choice. Sirius Black had escaped prison, and now Dumbledore was asking about the young Weasley's pet. What Wormtail lacked in ability as a wizard was made up for by instinct and will to survive. He had not lived all these years as a rat only to be destroyed now that Black was out of prison.
His Master would be angry with him, of that he was certain, but he would be rewarded for being the first to return.
Ron Weasley walked nervously down the stairs to greet his Headmaster. He had been in more than his fair share of detentions, but Dumbledore had never before visited him at home.
"Professor," he began, his palms becoming damp with perspiration, "Have I done something wrong?"
Dumbledore chuckled lightly, "I would imagine so, Mr. Weasley, but that is now why I am here." Ron released a deep breath. "I am here to see your rat. Please fetch him for me."
"Why do you need to see Scabbers?" Ron inquired.
"I must perform a simple test on the creature. If nothing is out of the ordinary, he will be returned to you immediately," Dumbledore informed him.
Ron nodded his head slowly. "Alright. I'll go get him."
Several minutes later, Ron returned to the kitchen empty-handed. Dumbledore looked at him inquiringly and he shrugged. "I couldn't find him."
Dumbledore nodded his head resignedly, his expression grave. He believed the boy to be telling the truth. "Very well. Do let me know if you find him."
Dumbledore said his goodbyes and left the Burrow, feeling considerably worse than he had only moments before.
He had initially avoided casting any spells to locate the rat, as they would have alerted Pettigrew to his intentions. He had cast the spell anyway after the unsuccessful search. Wormtail had fled.
Dumbledore had known all along that Voldemort would one day return. He held no illusions that Pettigrew would do anything other than try to find his former Master.
Voldemort would likely be returning earlier than anticipated, and he feared what that would mean for the world. In the end, it would come down to Voldemort and Harry. The latter had as much potential as the former, but Dumbledore had been hoping for more time to train him to ensure his survival.
Perhaps he would need to expedite his plans.
Harry Potter was having the best summer of his life. He was living with his Godfather, the fugitive Sirius Black, at his ancestral home. He had connected with the man almost immediately. He supposed they were two of a kind. He had been deprived of love for most of his life, and had not known friendship until he met Hermione on the Hogwarts Express. Sirius had been detested by his family because he did not accept their beliefs or uphold their tradition. Like Harry, Sirius had always considered Hogwarts home.
They spent hours at a time talking. Harry told Sirius about his adventures during his first two years at school, and Sirius regaled him with stories about his father and the pranks they played while they attended Hogwarts.
The stories certainly helped Harry to understand Severus Snape. He still recalled the man's strange behavior when they had first become acquainted. The Potions Master had seemed to be terribly conflicted. He now knew that his father had spent the better part of seven years tormenting the man, and Snape had reciprocated, heightening the rivalry. He considered himself lucky that his professor had judged him on his own merits and not on any preconceptions formed because of his father.
Since Grimmauld Place was a magical home, it was not traced by the Ministry. It would be up to his guardian to ensure that he did not perform magic, and Sirius seemed disinclined to do any sort of prevention. In fact, Sirius had agreed enthusiastically to help Harry practice his dueling.
"It'll be great, Harry. Your father and I practiced dueling all the time. We were the two best duelists in Hogwarts… Well, us and Snape," he reluctantly admitted.
They spent a great deal of time practicing. Filius had already taught Harry quite a bit about the subject, but dueling was a skill best improved by repetition.
When they started, Harry had been thoroughly outclassed by his Godfather. Sirius was rusty from his time spent in Azkaban, but his years of practice during school and against Death Eaters in the First War were obvious. By the end of the summer, Harry was still not quite a match for his Godfather, but it was a much closer contest. He would probably be able to defeat him in a duel after another year under Filius' tutelage at Hogwarts.
He owled Hermione to tell her that he was no longer living with the Dursleys, but was unable to be very specific. It would have been unwise to disclose his current living arrangements in a letter. Her reply had indicated that she was frustrated at being kept out of the loop, but understood the necessity.
Harry made his way to Diagon Alley as soon as his book list arrived. He was able to Floo to the Leaky Cauldron from Grimmauld Place and avoid another trip on the Knight Bus. He hoped Stan Shunpike would not miss him too terribly, as he planned to use other modes of transportation whenever possible.
The trip was unexpectedly uneventful. He had hoped to run into Daphne again, but was unable to find her.
The morning Harry was supposed to leave for Hogwarts, he rose early and ran downstairs for breakfast. Sirius was a surprisingly early riser, and if Harry wanted his meal to be warm, he had to wake up earlier than he ever did at school.
Sirius sat alone at the table, his eyes downcast. "It's going to be awfully lonely around here without you, Harry."
Harry did not know how to feel about the apparent depression of his Godfather. He was obviously saddened by Sirius' predicament, but it felt strangely wonderful that there was an adult who was almost family who genuinely cared about him and valued his company. If only that damned rat hadn't gotten away, he thought, Sirius would be able to bring me to King's Cross.
After they finished eating, Sirius looked up suddenly, a grin plastered on his face. "How about one last duel before we leave?"
Harry returned the smile and said, "I wondered when you'd ask. You know you won't be able to beat me anymore by the time I get back home."
"You're on, kiddo," Sirius said, ruffling Harry's hair.
They made their way to the basement room Sirius had transformed into a dueling arena, and bowed to each other formally. They began exchanging spells. The duel lasted for minutes with Sirius slowly but surely forcing Harry back.
"Impedimenta!" Sirius yelled. The spell broke through Harry's shield and slowed his movement. "Expelliarmus!" Harry's wand was wrenched from his hand and Sirius snatched it out of the air, grinning broadly.
Harry cursed under his breath. Refusing to accept defeat so easily, he extended his arm and forced his magic to lash out, banishing Sirius into the wall on the far side of the room. The older man grunted loudly as the burst of magic hit him in the gut.
Harry grimaced as he saw his godfather fly across the room. He had not meant to be so rough. He ran over to check on his condition, worrying that he had harmed the man. "Sirius, are you alright?"
He coughed as he opened his eyes and said, "Neat trick, that."
Harry grinned sheepishly, and told Sirius about his early experiences with magic and how he had managed to reach his internal power.
Sirius had a rare contemplative look on his face as he listened to Harry's story. "I think you've reached the limit of wandless magic, Harry. Very few people can do any of it at all. Dumbledore can do a bit, but he can't send someone flying across the room like you just did."
"You don't think I'll be able to learn any more wandless magic?"
Sirius shook his head. "There's a reason wizards use wands. They amplify and focus our own natural power. That you can do as much as you can without a wand is amazing. Damn useful in a fight, too," he finished, grinning.
"Sure is," Harry said with a smirk. "Especially when your opponent thinks the fight is won."
"You know," Sirius said thoughtfully, "This may be why you have so much control over your magic and so much raw power. I've never met a rising third year with so much ability."
Harry nodded his head. He had quite a bit of information to consider.
As Harry prepared to catch the Knight Bus (he wondered why King's Cross did not have a Floo connection) Sirius caught him in a tight embrace. "You'd better not forget this," Sirius said, reaching a hand into his robes and withdrawing a piece of parchment. "They won't let you into Hogsmeade without a guardian's signed permission."
"Thanks, Sirius," Harry said, returning the embrace enthusiastically. He would truly miss his Godfather at Hogwarts. "The holidays aren't too far from now. I'll be home before you know it."
Harry boarded the Hogwarts Express with a sigh, somehow wishing that he and Daphne could have had some time together like they had last year. He wandered down the hallway looking for Hermione.
He finally found her in a compartment with an older man wearing frayed robes. He was sleeping soundly, but a battered case indicated that his name was RJ Lupin.
The pair hugged quickly before taking seats facing the sleeping man. "Who do you think he is?" she asked, keeping her voice low out of consideration for the man.
Harry smiled viciously, "I'd wager he's the new Defense professor. Lockhart didn't seem too keen on continuing after I blasted him at the dueling club."
Hermione giggled lightly, "No he didn't. He had a twitch," she said, pointing below her left eye, "Right here. It was kind of hard to see, but he got it whenever he was around you."
Harry struggled to contain his laughter, hoping to avoid waking the professor. "How was your summer, Hermione?"
"You first. I want to know why you aren't living with your relatives anymore."
Harry sighed. This was going to be a long story.
He told an abridged version of his summer, excluding the name of his Godfather and their residence in case the sleeping professor overheard.
By the time he finished recounting the tale, the sun had faded beyond the horizon and a thick cloud cover made the night especially dark.
Harry's instincts told him that something was amiss even before the train slowed down and ground to a halt hours before they reached their destination. A sense of foreboding permeated the air as the glass on the compartment door frosted over. An unnatural, cool breeze circulated through the train. A feeling of dread and unease overcame him.
A stream of disjointed memories cycled through his vision.
He was on his back in the Chamber of Secrets, held under Tom Riddle's wand. Weak. Helpless.
Daphne was prone on a sterile hospital bed, her blue eyes looking forward but not seeing. So lifeless.
He looked up at his Aunt Petunia. Uncaring. His relative, but never his family.
A woman, his mother, begged for his life to be spared, eyes shining with a mixture of fear and love. Love for him. Extinguished forever by a jet of green light.
Daphne sat alone in a compartment near the back of the train, and found herself reliving the horrors of her past.
She looked into a pair of bulbous yellow eyes in an old mirror, and then knew nothing.
She sat, too stunned to react, as a ball of metal and an explosive piece of magic crashed into Harry.
She stood in front of her grandmother's casket. She was alone.
Her parents walked past her without even looking down. Never worth their time. Relations by blood only.
"Dementors," Harry said, clutching his wand tightly. "It has to be dementors."
Hermione bit her lower lip nervously and ran her fingers through her hair. "Are you sure?"
Harry nodded, his face grim but determined. "I'm not going to let them into this compartment." He raised his wand with some hesitation, recalling his earlier lessons with Filius. Powered by emotions and happy memories, it was one of the few spells he had ever struggled to cast. At the time, he had not possessed a memory capable of producing more than a faint silver mist. He had not attempted this spell in a while, though he was confident his new memory was going to work. "Expecto Patronum!" A brilliant silver stag burst forth from his wand at the same moment the compartment door slid open. A dementor attempted to glide into the compartment, but collided with the form of Harry's Patronus and was forced back.
The feeling of dread slowly vacated the area as the dementor fled. Harry supposed he could not have chosen a better time to successfully complete the spell. Silently, he willed the stag to go help the others.
Daphne's vision returned to normal as an ethereal stag walked through the door she had locked and stood beside her. Her guest could not have arrived at a more opportune moment, she decided. Only moments before, she had felt herself losing consciousness.
The ordeal left her with two questions. Who had decided it would be wise to release dementors on a train of school children, and whose Patronus had chased them away?
Hermione's eyes were wide as she stared at Harry incredulously. "How did you do that? You weren't able to manage the Patronus Charm last year!"
"I was using a new memory. I just remembered how it felt to learn I could live with my Godfather."
On hearing that, RJ Lupin's eyes shot open. The effect of the dementors had, apparently, awakened him.
"My apologies Mister Potter, but I was under the impression you were living with your Muggle relatives."
Harry's eyes narrowed. "How is that any of your concern, Mister Lupin?"
Lupin sighed, afraid that he had ruined his relationship with Harry before it had a chance to get started. "My apologies, but I happen to know your Godfather."
"How do you know him?" he asked with some genuine curiosity. This man looked too old to have gone to school with his father and Sirius.
"We were friends at one time. At least, I thought we were."
Sirius had told Harry countless stories from his Hogwarts days- stories about James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter. His Godfather tried to minimize the rat's roles in most of his stories, but could not always get around mentioning him. James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew. He only knew the traitor's full name because Sirius had used it under Veritaserum. He tried to recall the surname of the other friend. He looked down at the man's case. RJ Lupin. Could this possibly be Remus? Harry asked himself.
"Mr. Lupin, there is a very common misconception about my Godfather's past. Perhaps you should ask the Headmaster about his history when you have a chance."
Lupin's eyes widened as he heard Harry defend the traitor. What's happening? Does Dumbledore know something about this? "I'll do that as soon as we get to Hogwarts."
The rest of the trip went by quickly. Harry and Hermione attempted to make conversation with the man they confirmed to be their new Defense professor, but Harry decided to keep his distance from this man until he learned more about him. The professor had been very impressed by Harry's corporeal Patronus.
Harry walked with Hermione to the carriages they would ride to the castle. They were pulled, he noticed, by skeletal, winged horses. His unorthodox arrival at the castle during his second year meant that this would be his first time riding one of the carriages.
His study of magical creatures was somewhat limited, as he and Hermione had decided to forgo Care of Magical Creatures and Divination, and he had never before seen such an animal. "What are the things pulling the carriages, Hermione?"
"They're thestrals. Brilliant creatures, but they frighten most people. You can't see them unless you've seen someone die."
"Quirrel," he said, knowing they had both seen him die.
She inclined her head slightly. "Yes."
Daphne sat at the end of the Slytherin table during the Welcome Feast. No one had tried to sit next to her this year. She took particular pleasure in seeing Draco Malfoy walk past her quickly, avoiding eye contact. She had struggled to suppress her laughter when the boy fearfully avoided her. She supposed he had taken their last conversation to heart.
She sighed as she considered the upcoming school year. She would visit the Mirror tonight, she decided. And perhaps I can see it again tomorrow night if I skip Astronomy.