a/n: yay, another chapter and hardly a wait at all. hope this one is enjoyable enough, though it does have a lot of Dumbledore. please let me know your thoughts and above all enjoy.

Chapter 47

They were both lying flat on their backs staring up at the ceiling above their bed. There wasn't anything particularly fascinating about the ceiling but it was there and neither could be bothered moving. The only movement coming from the bed came from Molly who was lying between the, wrapped tightly in a blanket cacoon with her arms flailing about happily. Occasionally she gurgled.

'How'd your meeting with Dumbledore go?'

Ally's words were soft spoken but sounded loud in the dark room. They pulled Harry from his thoughts and he turned his head to look at her.

'I think I may have made things worse for me.'

'How so?' she frowned, turning to look at him.

'I may have given him the impression I was a lot darker than I am.'

Ally rolled her eyes at him in the exasperated way all women pull off when their significant other does something stupid. 'What did you do?'

'You remember that comment I made about brain matter being stuck in my boots?'

'Not really.'

Harry shrugged it off, her remembering wasn't particularly vital to this. 'Well, he's been viewing his memories of all of our encounters and today when I tried to distract him with my fake dream about Voldemort he pulled out all these incidents in which I "brushed death aside as though it was not an emotionally significant event".'

Ally snorted, if that was what Dumbledore truly thought then he didn't know Harry at all. She certainly wasn't going to be the one to enlighten him; she'd heard from Ginny how hard it had been to convince Hermione those first weeks. Dumbledore was eighty times more stubborn and a whole lot more self righteous.

'I'm not worried, though,' Harry murmured. 'I've got better things to do with my time than appease Dumbledore and his stupid concern for my morality.'

'Like finish the Christmas shopping?' her suggestion was light and an obvious attempt to change the subject but also something she actually wanted to know.

He gave her an affronted look which quickly turned sheepish under her sharp gaze. With Christmas just two weeks away he was running out of time to get everything sorted. He had his own gifts organised, the one he was giving Ally had been sitting in the bottom of Ginny's trunk for weeks. The joint gifts he and Ally were giving were another story. Ginny's gift had been relatively simple to organise as had Ron's. The twins were proving to be a little more difficult but Ally was confident it would be done before Christmas.

'I still haven't found the perfect gift for Ruby yet,' Harry reluctantly admitted.

'How hard can it be?' Buying gifts for Ruby had never been difficult for Ally so she was beginning to rethink the brilliance of putting Harry in charge.

'She keeps sending me gag gifts so it's taking me time to find the perfect retaliatory gift.'

'Oh, for Merlin's sake, I'll get Ruby's gift you deal with Fred and George's.'

'Alrighty.'

Ally frowned, she had the sudden feeling she'd just played right into Harry's plan. She wanted to thump him but couldn't quite find the energy. Everything she had in that moment was going into making sure Molly didn't wriggle off the bed.

'Are you ready for the next tournament?'

'I'm pretty sure I can handle whatever you're forced to throw at me for the sake of our work.'

'We're going to fight at the end.'

That brought him up short, he'd imagined he'd have to fight his way through all of the standing fifth years, sixth years and seventh years but he didn't imagine she'd want to put on a fight with him. It would just give Dumbledore more to think about, especially the way they fought sometimes.

'Oh.'

They fell once more into silence, Harry thinking over the coming tournament and what he would have to do to win it and not accidentally kill anyone. Ally's thoughts were fuzzy and sleep rushed to claim her. Her mind was blissfully blank and she was just on the verge of sleep when Harry's quiet voice startled her back from the brink.

'I don't understand him.'

'Who?' shaking her head to clear it, she turned slightly to look at him.

'Voldemort. What's his motivation? What's his purpose?'

She was too tired to think about such big things, actually she tried not to think about this ever because whenever she did she couldn't come up with an answer that didn't frighten her.

'There is no purpose,' she murmured. 'All he wants is power, a way to prove that he's better than all of those muggleborn's, than all of the muggles he grew up with.'

'That's just stupid.'

'Mhmm.'

He wasn't aware of it happening, never noticed the transition between awake and dreaming. Around him Death Eaters crouched at his feet, hands and knees pressed into the floor in a circle. Just as suddenly as the circle of Death Eaters appeared the scene around him changed. He was on a beach, then a cave, and then others moving faster, so fast that he couldn't quite grasp the changing scenery. It didn't matter that he couldn't see them, each one carried a heavy sick feeling he didn't like. He searched desperately for a way to get out but around him the world kept spinning and then there was a figure, a boy with a smile that sent chills down Harry's spine. He reached for his wand and—

--Harry leapt upright, startled from the nightmare by Molly's cries. Confused, his heart racing, he reached for his daughter with his hands flaming to give him light. She quietened the instant he picked her up and he got up from the bed and carried her into the other room.

He was surprised to see Ally sitting on the couch with her feet up. It was light outside even though, to him, it felt like he had been sleeping for just minutes. The sudden light, disorienting compared to the darkness of his room. Although now that he could focus he realised that despite his racing heartbeat he did feel remarkably well rested.

'What time is it?'

'Sevenish,' Ally estimated. 'We should head down soon; no one knows the tournament is today.'

'A surprise exam?' Harry was taken aback; he hadn't even known that was scheduled for today.

Ally smiled smugly. 'I had it cleared with Dumbledore. I think it will be good for the students to understand that fights don't happen on a schedule. It's going to be a good test for them.'

'You're a little evil sometimes, you know that?'

She kissed him quickly on the lips before disappearing into the bathroom with a sly grin. He shook his head with a laugh and set about getting Molly ready for the day.


Dumbledore had been awake since dawn, sitting in his office without any lights just thinking over the events of the past few months. Today at breakfast he would announce the second of Professor Martin's DADA tournaments. He felt incredibly old in that moment, waiting to announce an exam that would once more demonstrate that the woman he chose to teach his students was turning them into efficient little soldiers. Soldiers trained to kill.

Oh, he felt sure that it wasn't her intention, that her reasons for training them so well were truly about teaching them to protect themselves. It was just that reviewing the previous tournament, a tournament that took place after just a month of solid teaching; he was forced to face truths he was definitely not comfortable with.

It was like watching Voldemort win. He'd seen that too many times before, witnessed people he thought would be amongst those fighting strongest for the light falling harder than most. He was terrified Harry was already becoming one of those losses. Dumbledore had been keeping a closer eye on him than he hoped Harry was aware of. He'd been sitting in on a few of his classes and had come to some heavy conclusions.

Harry had a wealth of knowledge he hadn't had when he'd left the year before, much more than could be learned through study. Especially given the amount of time Harry actually spent devoted to his school work. There was no way, juggling Quidditch and OWLs that Harry was putting anywhere near enough time into his studies to be showing such a vast improvement.

Dumbledore had his theories and they were all tied into the connection Voldemort had formed with Harry that night. His fear that Harry was absorbing knowledge directly from Voldemort was quickly taking over any other ideas he might have.

Torturing himself some more, he placed his Pensieve on his desk and withdrew the memory of an incident he had been fortunate enough to witness. This particular Saturday afternoon he'd been doing nothing more than taking a stroll around the grounds to clear his head and was fortunate, or unfortunate enough, to witness something unusual. It had only really peaked his interest because Harry was involved. The number of times he'd had to sharply veer in a different direction when walking by the lake so as to avoid students thoroughly enjoying one another was a little too high to count.

With a heavy heart he plunged into his memory...

It was the sound of unexpected laughter that drew his attention away from the distant forest and toward the shore of the lake. He hadn't realised anyone was around, most students finding the near freezing waters of the lake a little off putting. Curious about the origin of the laughter he cloaked himself and moved softly and unhurriedly in the direction of the sound.

Watching as his memory counterpart strolled casually toward Harry he couldn't help but wish he'd ignored the sound that day.

He rounded a bend in the lake and stopped on the edge of a clearing that was often used in summer by the older students who wanted a little alone time. He couldn't say he'd been expecting anyone to be about but that didn't mean there hadn't been some inventive students in the past who had found ways around the cold.

He drifted after himself with a heavy heart but this time made sure his entire focus was on the clearing and not on his own reactions.

The clearing was, as he expected, wet from the mornings rain and the ground was turning to mud beneath the feet of its occupants. Not that they seemed to mind. Fourth year Abigail Nathan was almost entirely covered in mud making it difficult to tell what colour her clothes were. She certainly wasn't wearing her uniform. She was hanging off Harry's back and rubbing mud into his hair while her friend, a sixth year he recognised as Emmy James ran off with what looked like an ordinary muggle football.

Despite the girl hanging off his back Harry put in a decent effort of running after Emmy but was blocked by Ron Weasley who was then tackled out of the way and thrown to the ground by a Slytherin fifth year, Daphne Greengrass. They were all laughing despite the chill and the new covering of mud.

Dumbledore watched the faces of the students as they played together, seemingly without a care in the world. This scene was what made the changes Harry was experiencing all the harder. Here, in early November he was still laughing and joking, although his choice of friends was quite muddling. He didn't like to watch but couldn't turn away, even when he knew the thing that so hurt about this memory was about to occur.

Emmy made her way to the goal despite Harry's attempts to stop her. She spun around and performed a victory dance, sticking her tongue out at Daphne and Harry before high fiving Ron.

'And that's our game!' Emmy cheered in victory. 'Sorry Harry,' she laughed, not sounding sorry at all.

'You cheated!' he declared indignantly, the weight of Abby still clinging to his back prevented him from doing anything in retaliation.

'Suck it up, big brother; all's fair in love and sport.'

Harry dumped her unceremoniously on the ground and Abby let out a squeal of protest as she landed on her bum. 'All's fair in love and sport, Abigail,' he mocked.

'Don't call me Abigail,' she scolded, dropping low and sweeping his feet out from under him.

He landed heavily on his back, letting out an oomph of surprise as the air rushed out of his lungs. Abigail moved swiftly to sit on Harry's chest so that he couldn't move.

'Grab his legs,' she shouted to Emmy who moved to sit on his legs.

'Ron!' Harry hissed. 'Don't you dare!'

'Sorry mate, you got out voted.'

Dumbledore turned to leave, even as Ron's hand came down to drop a handful of mud on his best friends face. Laughed and shouted protests floated out of the clearing. Watching didn't make it better, only emphasised the Harry that was getting lost, the Harry that was being buried beneath the death and pain and destruction. The Harry that was succumbing to his connection with Voldemort.

He returned to his office and sank back into his chair. He had numerous other memories of Harry, bits and pieces both good and bad but it was this one that always hit him hardest. He couldn't bear the thought that Harry had been so light and happy because the Harry he had seen over the last month was darker, angrier even rude and obnoxious. He was becoming the arrogant git Severus had always thought he would turn out to be.

Unwilling to dwell on his memories any longer, Dumbledore rose from his chair and left his office. Today he would witness another tournament, another opportunity to watch as Harry twisted away from the light to be taken in by Voldemort's darkness. Apparently, merely telling himself not to dwell did not work as effectively as he had hoped.

The Great Hall was as full as could be expected at eight o'clock on a Saturday morning. Over half of the students that had to be at the surprise tournament were no doubt still sound asleep. When Professor Martin had approached him with her intentions, he'd been a little reluctant to allow her to continue on the path she'd designed at the beginning of the year. However he hadn't been able to dispute her logic.

Death Eater attacks were not planned, they came without warning. She'd pointed out, with plenty of evidence to back it up, that a surprise tournament was an excellent way to fairly judge the students ability to handle anything that could be thrown at them. That didn't mean, of course, that he had to like it.

He had only just begun his breakfast when Professor Martin entered the hall. She was dressed for the cold and snow, wearing heavy dragon hide boots muggle jeans and layers of jackets beneath what looked like a too small cloak. It hung only to her knees but covered her arms and had a hood. Her neck was hidden beneath a Gryffindor scarf and her hands were in gloves. There was snow on her boots and in her hair.

Harry was behind her, dressed similarly, though without the too small cloak. His face was flushed from the icy wind outside. He bent down to speak into her ear. She nodded at him and he walked off to the Gryffindor table and took a seat with Hermione. The two exchanged quick words before she let out a shriek and ran from the table at top speed. The other students he had come to recognise as ADADA members laughed but didn't look nearly as panicked as Hermione.

Dumbledore turned his attention back to Professor Martin. She gave him a brief nod to acknowledge him before stopping in front of the staff table and turning to face those students who had made it out of bed. She pointed her wand to the ceiling and let off a loud bang. All heads in the hall whipped around and she pocketed her wand with a smug look.

Dumbledore very nearly hated the young mother in that moment.

'Now that I have your attention,' she began firmly, 'At nine o'clock this morning your second Defence Against the Dark Arts tournament will begin. You have twenty minutes to wake your friends as I expect every one of you to be dressed for the weather and seated in the Quidditch stadium at exactly fifteen minutes to nine. Move.'

Dumbledore had seen students panic before, most recently when Harry had returned from the maze clutching Cedric's body. He had never seen them so excited while doing so, however. The moment Martin finished speaking they were on their feet and frantically trying to exit the hall while not crushing each other. He noticed that while the students in the hall were scrambling to get ready and wake their friends, the ADADA remained seated, chatting happily over breakfast.

He watched them carefully and felt he shouldn't have been surprised when they rose as a group when the other students cleared the Entrance Hall. They had waited for the chaos to pass before moving out without trouble. It made Dumbledore fear for what they were becoming. Students so young, reacting so calmly to new and unexpected situations.

He truly feared what he would see in the tournament.