Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction based on the Harry Potter universe. All recognizable characters, plots and settings are the exclusive property of J.K Rowling. I make no claim to ownership nor do I make any profit.

Acknowledgments: Thank you to my betas Umar, Yoshi89 and Fezzik for their work on this story.

Self Promotion: I have a discord server where you can chat and read all of my chapters early. If you would like to join, simply copy the link on my profile and for . I had to write it in that format for the site to allow it on my profile.

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Recommendations:

Harry Potter and The Prince of Slytherin by The Sinister Man.

Harry Potter and The Boy-Who-Lived by The Santi.

Growing Up Black by ElvindorkNigellus.

The Hero and The Veela by JackPotter.

Stepping Back, and Honour Thy Blood by TheBlack'sResurgence.

The Mind Arts by Wu Gang.

A Cadmean Victory by DarknessEnthroned.

Magicks of The Arcane by Eilyfe.

"Speech."

'Internal Dialogue.'

Parseltongue.

Memories/In Story Text.

Harry Potter and The Dark Lord's Equal

By ACI100.

Year 2: The Looming of Shadows.

Chapter 10: Invitations and Interventions.

November 7th 1992.

The Room of Requirement.

11:06 AM.

After a brief stop in the infirmary to allow Madam Pomfrey to heal his shoulder, Harry led Neville and Augusta up to The Room of Requirement. He couldn't really think of a place more suited for a meeting, least of all when the contents of said meeting were going to get into matters Harry did not feel comfortable discussing in public. When they had entered the room, Augusta had taken several minutes to simply admire its complexities before her, Neville and Harry took seats and began to discuss.

"That was quite the showing." Augusta said, sounding almost smug as she gave Harry a firm nod. "At the same time, I'm not sure whether I should tell you I'm proud of you, or tell you to never do something so foolish again."

Neville laughed and Harry smiled abashedly back at her. "I'd prefer the former." he answered honestly. "I couldn't really think of a better way to deal with the bludger."

Augusta sighed. "Harry, several adults had their wands drawn and would have blasted the wretched ball to pieces as soon as it got in range once the match ended but that's not important. You're fine and that's all that matters." she paused. "Well, that and if you have any ideas who had the gall to enchant a bludger to try and murder you?"

Harry shook his head. "I honestly have no idea." he answered honestly. "There's no Quirrell this year and Lockhart is a lot of things, but I highly doubt a Death Eater is one of them." Neville snorted and tried unsuccessfully to cover it and his laughter up with a cough.

Augusta nodded. "Probably the same devil who sent that Merlin forsaken tart, but none of us have found anything on that either, so I don't suppose that is helpful."

Harry nodded. "That would make sense, I guess. But no, I have no idea who sent that either. Dumbledore ran checks on the parchment for any signatures and there were none."

"Let's not focus on that, then." Augusta said, sounding annoyed that none of them had an answer. Harry could imagine she was; if she found out the identity of the idiot who was dense enough to send a poisoned tart near her… well, Harry may actually wind up pitying the sod after Augusta's inevitable retribution. "You said you had something to discuss with me?" she asked the two boys. "Something you said was better not discussed in letters."

Both boys nodded. "It's better if Harry explains." Neville said. "I've got most of this second hand, except for the attack." At the word "attack" Augusta's eyes narrowed but she showed no reaction beyond that as she peered expectantly at Harry.

"Well, I guess this starts back at The Burrow. In August, a house elf named Dobby popped up in the kitchen when it was just me and Ginny — the youngest Weasley, and told me terrible things were going to happen at Hogwarts. He tried to convince me not to come back at all and Dumbledore even thinks that he was the one who closed the barrier." At the mention of Dumbledore's name, Augusta's posture stiffened, if only marginally. Harry knew there was at least a distrust between them, though he never quite knew why. At least, not beyond the obvious circumstances that surrounded Harry's upbringing, but he had a strong inkling that the situation was deeper than that.

"And you… trust this elf's word?" Augusta asked. It was not an accusation, just a mildly sceptical inquisition.

"Not implicitly." Harry assured her. "He mentioned that he had heard tell of my confrontation with Voldemort at the end of first year though, so he did seem shockingly well informed." Augusta nodded minutely, conceding the point. "Plus, he had to punish himself every time he came too close to revealing something. That seems like a huge ask for even a house elf."

"It is not unreasonable to assume some bigots may have instructed the elf to punish itself to make sure the performance was convincing." Augusta's voice was definitely tinged with an obvious degree of coldness. Harry did not need to ask what Augusta thought of bigots. "But," she continued, "that combined with the bit about the elf knowing more than he should… well, it is suspicious at the very least."

"Kinda creepy, too." Neville put in, with a shake of his head.

"What about this attack though?" Augusta asked after allowing a small smile for her grandson's comment.

"I'm getting there." Harry promised her. "During the first weekend at Hogwarts, I had detention with Lockhart. I… uh, might've attacked Malfoy after he called Dean a mudblood." Contrary to looking upset, Augusta hummed almost approvingly and though Harry did not stumble over his words in surprise, it was a near miss. "At the end of that detention, I heard a voice that Lockhart couldn't hear. It didn't sound human and it wanted to rip, tear and kill." Now, Augusta's attention sharpened even more. "Before the attack, I heard the same voice; this time it was talking about blood and how close it was. Then, the caretaker's cat was petrified and nobody knows how it happened, not even Dumbledore."

"There was writing on the wall, too." Neville put in. "The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir, beware."

Augusta pursed her lips. "I admit that I know nothing about the Chamber beyond the standard myths and such. I am assuming the Heir is referring to the Heir of Slytherin, but personally, I think whoever they are is bluffing."

"Really?" Neville asked, surprised.

"Being the Heir of Slytherin isn't something someone would hide, Neville." she snapped, sounding almost annoyed she needed to explain the concept at all. "It would grant them an absurd amount of wealth and power. I doubt they would hold that secret just to go and petrify a cat."

Harry nodded slowly. "That… makes sense, but Dumbledore does think it was some kind of creature that petrified the cat, and, say what you want about him, he's usually pretty on the mark when it comes to magic."

Reluctantly, Augusta nodded. "He is." she conceded. "I'm not telling you to rule anything out, but I am telling you my thoughts."

"What should we do about it?" Neville asked, causing Augusta to blink before glaring at him.

"Do? You will not do anything! There is no sense in rushing head first into dangerous situations that do not concern you. I made an exception last year because it did, in a way, concern you but not this year. Whoever this idiot is will get caught. I dislike Dumbledore on principle, but he will not be outwitted by a student."

Harry and Neville exchanged looks before nodding. Harry knew that both boys were thinking the same thing. There was an odd feeling of impending doom, as if both of them knew they would somehow get dragged into the situation.

November 7th 1992.

The Gryffindor Common Room.

9:23 PM.

By the time 9:30 drew near, the party going on within Gryffindor Tower had positively surged in intensity. The House took every victory in Quidditch to heart, but that was magnified when it was against Slytherin. On this occasion, even that was amplified by the facts that Slytherin had been on seven of the best brooms on the planet and the fact that a bludger had done its absolute best to murder Gryffindor's star seeker. As a result of the latter event, Harry found himself the shining star and centre point of the galaxy that was the Gryffindor's party. Harry found himself most uncomfortable with this, but he was grateful for his three friends and six Quidditch teammates.

None of them ever let it get out of hand and kept everything around him reasonably controlled. Mind you, some of his protection began to trail off when Oliver Wood started dancing around the common room singing carols around 9:00, clearly drunk out of his mind and having the time of his life. The twins too were a bit tipsy, but in general, the pair of them managed to keep their wits about them.

It was not too long after Oliver Wood's episode that Harry decided he needed a break. As a result, he slunk off to a far corner and simply closed his eyes and cleared his mind of any and all emotion. It was so nice after such a chaotic day. The blissful nothingness that were his thoughts were positively euphoric and privately, Harry doubted muggle science had devised a drug to match it.

When he slowly and deliberately opened his eyes, he was surprised to note that nobody had approached him. Nobody except one person, that was and it was not who he would have expected.

"Parvati?" He asked, surprised.

"Hi, Harry," she greeted and he was surprised that none of her normal over the top bubbly nature filled her words. "It's some party, isn't it?"

Harry paused, not quite sure how to respond to a girl he knew nothing about. "It certainly seems like it." He answered carefully.

Parvati smiled. "I suppose you would know better than me. You've practically been mobbed the whole party." She frowned. "Is that why you were over here? I can leave if you wanted privacy, I just wanted to congratulate you on the match. That was amazing!"

"I just needed a minute." He told her. "You can stay, I guess. I'm probably going to find Neville, Dean and Ron though, and I'm not going to stay up too much longer. I'm beat."

Parvati smiled at him again. "It's ok, Harry. I'll let you get back to your friends, I just wanted to tell you how impressed and proud we all are of you." And then, with a confident wave, Parvati disappeared into the throng of the party, leaving a thoroughly bamboozled Harry Potter to find his friends alone.

November 8th 1992.

Gryffindor Tower.

First Year Boys Dormitory.

3:47 AM.

Harry blearily returned to the land of the living with a soft groan. He did not know what time it was, but it certainly did not feel like his normal hour for waking and his body was fairly adept at staying attuned with that schedule. A second later, he tensed when he felt an odd sort of weight on his chest. Then, when he looked up, Harry bolted upright, sending said weight flying off of him as he scrambled, quickly withdrawing his wand from underneath his pillow and taking aim, a spell on his lips. He had many experiences with being woken up suddenly. As a matter of fact, Harry would consider himself a seasoned veteran in the process but in saying that, most of those occasions had not been pleasant. As a result, a spell was half formed on his lips when it died out as his eyes widened in unmasked shock at the small, wide eyed figure getting up at the foot of his bed.

"Dobby?" he asked in a whisper, quickly casting silencing charms on the hangings around him to assure that no noise of his inevitably odd conversation would reach the ears of his sleeping dorm mates. The one good part about Harry's experiences with being jolted awake were that they lended themselves rather well to being alert quite quickly after waking.

The elf's tennis ball-like eyes, if possible, widened even further. "Harry Potter remembers Dobby?"

Harry winced. "You… uh, aren't going to be easy to forget, Dobby." Harry immediately winced as the creature's large, round eyes brimmed with tears of what Harry assumed to be joy at the statement. The little creature was clearly unstable.

"Dobby is honoured to be remembered by such a great wizard sir!" The elf beamed proudly.

"Uh… right. Dobby, what are you doing here?"

The elf's ears drooped almost comically when Harry asked that question and his head lowered marginally before he answered it. "Dobby is here to warn Harry Potter. To try and get Harry Potter to go home."

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. "Dobby, let me put it to you this way so you don't get any more ideas. There is NOTHING you can say or do that will make me leave Hogwarts."

Dobby's posture unravelled even more. "Dobby knows that now sir. If Dobby's bludger did not make Harry Potter see reason and go home, Dobby does not think anything will do it sir."

"Hang on?" Harry asked sharply, his wand twitching as the connection formed in his mind. "Your bludger, Dobby?" Harry tried his utmost to keep any anger out of his voice, but he didn't think he was as successful as he'd have liked to be for when he spoke, Dobby flinched back ever so slightly.

"Dobby does not want Harry Potter to be upset, sir. Dobby is only acting in Harry Potter's best interests, sir. Harry Potter is not safe at Hogwarts. It is better if Harry Potter goes home. The Chamber of Secrets has been opened once more just like Dobby warned Harry Potter of in the summer."

"Wait," Harry said, sitting up straighter as his stare upon the eccentric house elf intensified, "The Chamber of Secrets has been opened again? You're telling me that it definitely is the Chamber and that it's been opened before?"

Predictably, Dobby tried to smash his head on the floor once Harry exposed his slip up, but having been prepared for such a possibility, Harry reached forward and took hold of the elf, physically restraining him as he took aim with his wand. "Answer me, Dobby. This is important; it could mean life or death." Harry knew he wouldn't curse the elf, but he hoped the threat would work.

Dobby simply smiled tragically back up at him. "Dobby told you this summer sir, he's used to threats; they do not scare Dobby." and with that parting message and infuriating non answer, Dobby popped away with a resounding CRACK and Harry slumped back into bed with a groan, trying his best to clear his mind of thoughts and emotions as a means of perhaps getting back to sleep.

November 8th 1992.

The Headmaster's Office

9:24 AM.

To put it simply, Harry had been having a rather miserable day. He could operate on very little sleep, but the night previous, he had scarcely slept at all. It had been much, much later than he'd have liked before Harry managed to finally slip away from the surging crowd that had been his housemates and slunk off to his dorm. Even then, Dobby had interrupted his sleep and once the elf had revealed such startling revelations, Harry found that he could not sleep at all. As if things could not get worse, rumours were running roughshod through the school that yet another attack had taken place, this time on a student. The student in question was apparently Colin Creevey, and seeing as Harry had not seen the boy yet this morning, which to say was a rarity would be a severe understatement, Harry believed it.

It was this belief that led Harry to follow Dumbledore out of the hall upon the conclusion of breakfast and quickly call after him. The man had quirked a brow, but when Harry said he needed to tell him more information about the attacks, the man nodded and allowed Harry to follow him up into his office where the two of them now sat.

Now, sitting across from his Headmaster, Harry realized how tired Dumbledore looked. It did not hold a candle to his appearance over the summer at St. Mungo's but it did not look like he had slept much himself. "Are you alright, Professor?" Harry asked him.

Dumbledore just smiled back at him. "Quite so, Harry, quite so. Merely concerned as to the events of the past number of weeks." With that statement, Dumbledore leant forward. "I understand you have more information to pass along to me? I do not suppose it has anything to do with the rumours sweeping through the school?"

"Not directly," Harry admitted, "but when I heard the rumours, I didn't think it was wise to wait until Friday to talk to you about it."

Dumbledore nodded. "A very mature decision on your part." he commended. "I am very happy you made said decision for between the two of us, at least until the Hogwarts rumour mill has evidence to support its ramblings, I am afraid Mr. Creevy's fate is more than a simple rumour."

Harry's eyes widened. "Will he be ok, sir?"

"In the long term, I do believe he will be perfectly alright." Dumbledore assured him. "His fate, as of now, is the same one experienced by Mrs. Norris. He is physically healthy in every conceivable way, but he has been petrified in much the same way Mrs. Norris was before him."

"And you think nothing but the Mandrake draught will be able to reverse it?"

"There may be other ways," Dumbledore admitted modestly, "but if there are, I do not know of them; nor do the rest of my most marvellous staff." he folded his fingers before speaking again. "But tell me, Harry, what is it you wished to bring to my attention today?"

Harry wasted no time telling Dumbledore about Dobby's appearance and more importantly, what he had said about The Chamber of Secrets. "Do you think it really could be the Chamber, sir?"

Dumbledore studied Harry intensely before responding very carefully. "I will not enforce such things as an oath because I would like to think we have built a level of trust between us." his lips twitched. "And because in reality, oaths in terms of secrecy are not the most desirable method of keeping said secret, but I digress. I will ask, Harry, that what I tell you now is not revealed to any outside of this room."

"Of course, sir."

"Make sure you understand, Harry. That includes Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Thomas and even Lady Augusta."

Harry paused. "Is that really necessary, sir?"

"I certainly believe so." There was a moment in which the two of them stared intently at each other before, after nearly a minute, Harry nodded in acceptance. "Very good, very good. Now, between the two of us, Harry, I have suspected the opening of The Chamber of Secrets since Mrs. Norris's most unfortunate fate."

"You think it exists then?"

"Oh, I am as close to sure of the fact as I can be without verifiable evidence. You see, Harry, this is not the first time in the last century that students have turned up petrified within these very walls." when he saw the look of astonishment on Harry's face he held up a hand to forestall any questions. "I am sure you are wondering how such a thing is not well known. Well, last time, the Heir was not so bold as to write messages on the wall. As such, it was far easier to keep the rumours under control. Some of the more well connected or sharper students pieced it together but with little evidence to speak of, they did not spread it far and wide. As for the teachers, most of us took oaths of secrecy."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You didn't do that, did you sir?"

"No, I did not. Armando Dippet was a great man but if truth be told, his traditions such as oaths had long since been debunked. I told him in no uncertain terms how foolish and meaningless I believed the oath to be and I told him just as surely that I would not be taking said oath." Suddenly, Harry realized the magnitude of that statement. Even as a professor, Dumbledore had commanded enough power for the Headmaster of the age to bow to his wishes.

"And-and the Chamber was opened then?"

"I certainly think so. The Heir, as I have said, did not write messages on the wall, but he did leave rather alluring notes at the scene of each crime. He claimed to be the Heir of Slytherin and he claimed as well to be behind the attacks and that it was he who had found and opened the legendary Chamber of Secrets at long last. The attacks then are startlingly similar to what is taking place now and I find myself sceptical that such a thing is mere coincidence."

"Was the person ever caught?" Harry asked curiously.

Dumbledore shot him a rather piercing look. "On that, I had no choice but to sign a contract dictating I would hold my tongue." he did not sound happy about that. "That was Ministry business and they saw fit to censor me in the future in regards to the matter." he paused. "I think you will find that somebody was caught, but I think you will find certain… inconsistencies in regards to the person versus the offence." he sighed. "I cannot say more than that, I am afraid, and trust me, Harry, when I say I would tell you if I could do so."

"Is it possible that I could find out who did it through other secondary sources?"

Harry swore the twinkle in his eye turned up a notch. "Why Harry, most anything is possible." and that was all he got.

"I don't suppose you ever found out what it was attacking students?"

"Again, officially, the monster was identified." It went without saying that Dumbledore did not agree with said identification.

This time, it was Harry's turn to sigh. Why did his life have to be so complicated? Why couldn't he just enjoy a year at Hogwarts like any other student over the past millennium?

November 9th 1992.

The Quidditch Pitch.

8:03 PM.

Harry and Ron landed on the pitch and grinned broadly at one another. Tonight, Ron had been set to run seeker drills with Harry and though it had been a rocky start, Harry's friend had greatly improved throughout the practice and both boys found themselves in rather high spirits as the practice concluded.

Seconds after the two second years had landed, two other boys did likewise and suddenly, Fred, George, Harry and Ron were all gazing at each other awkwardly.

There was so much to be said, about the pranks, about how they had gone too far and about the impromptu competition they had made of the feast. Mercifully for Harry, who had no idea how to proceed, the twins broke the silence as they fell to their knees with their hands clasped in front of their chests.

"We concede, oh great master's of pranks!" Fred said dramatically.

"We gave it the best we had, but how are we to match the humiliation of Smellius Snape?" Harry had to stifle laughter behind his hand at that comment and Ron didn't even try.

"Such brilliance!" Fred continued, before the twins mock threw themselves at Harry and Ron's feet.

"WE'RE NOT WORTHY!" they proclaimed as one and just like that, the tension had been broken. There was no need for further questions and at long last, The Great Prank War of 1992 had been concluded and Harry had formed two strong friendships that would last him many years.

November 9th 1992.

The Room of Requirement.

9:32 PM.

Harry sighed as Neville left him alone in the Room of Requirement. They had come to help Neville practice some offensive spells and after said practice, Harry had filled his best friend in about his conversation with Dobby. He did keep his word to Dumbledore and said nothing about that meeting, but Neville seemed more than satisfied with what he had got. Harry told Neville he could tell the others, but also informed him he would be remaining in the room to study.

Once Neville left, the room itself morphed around him and suddenly, Harry was in his typical study room. Quickly, he withdrew the book on Occlumency from Dumbledore and finally flipped to the page he had found and marked a few days earlier.

Thought Streams.

The simplest definition of Occlumency is magical mastery over one's mind. In saying this, such a definition is wide and broad, which is because the art of Occlumency is those two things in spades. Mastery over one's mind means many things, but one of them is the ability to manipulate, extrapolate, and expedite one's thoughts and ability to think.

One of the more effective ways of doing this is through the creation of Thought Streams. The easiest way to explain a thought stream would simply be to imagine dividing your mind. As of now, you have one thought stream. Your mind focuses on one problem at once, for the most part, because its brain power is vastly undivided. Thought Streams allow a witch or wizard to divide their mind. If you were to create a thought stream, you would be dividing your brain power between two completely different trains of thought. In one thought stream, you could be focusing on spell theory and in the other, you could be focusing on the applications of said theory. This would allow you to more quickly learn the topic at hand.

Now, I spoke of dividing brain power but in truth, that is not an overly accurate explanation; simply an image to allow you to understand topics that are frankly beyond us humans. If you create two thought streams, you are not dividing half of your brain power to one and half to the other. Both streams will be operating under the full capacity of your mind, so if you, by example, were obsessively studying one concept, you could create two separate thought streams and dedicate 200% of your thought power to said concept, in theory learning it twice as fast.

Now, this cannot make you understand something, but it greatly expedite said path to enlightenment.

As for limitations, it is possible to open more than two thought streams but the more you open, the less effective additional streams become. In addition, multiple thought streams are extremely taxing on the human mind. I often keep two or three open at a time, but I have never dared to go past five and on the brief occasions I have opened a fifth, I found it to be a profoundly unpleasant experience. It is believed that opening more than seven is fundamentally impossible but in truth, I would categorize the act of opening even seven thought streams as positively ludicrous.

Beneath that explanation were several exercises required to prepare one's mind for opening thought streams, and the steps in which one would take to do so once ready. It looked far more complex than anything Harry had attempted thus far, but he was determined to do it. Not only was it bloody useful in general, but he thought this was a ticket to fast tracking his mastery of wordless magic and if he did not achieve such a thing by Christmas, the old codger otherwise known as Mad-Eye-Moody would have his head.

November 10th 1992.

Gryffindor Tower.

The Second Year Boy's Dormitory.

6:29 PM.

Harry had spent much of the last week stewing over a particular problem in his mind. As intelligent as Harry was and for all of his friends' wise cracks about him being the next Merlin, so on and so forth, he was no genius with emotions; far from it, as a matter of fact. As a result, Harry had no idea how to handle such an emotionally charged situation. In light of that, he had finally decided that this morning, he would be taking his first major step towards solving said situation. Unfortunately, taking that step had been more difficult than he had expected, which was made obvious by the piles of discarded parchment around him.

Finally, at nearly half past six, almost an hour and a half after he had started this most taxing endeavour, Harry sighed in relief as finally, at long last, what he hoped was a passable letter to his first true mentor was complete.

Dear Augusta,

I know it hasn't been that long since we last talked, but I really need help with something that's eating at me.

A few days before the Quidditch match, Daphne Greengrass, one of my best friends, and I had a sort of confrontation. Long story short, Ron, Dean, Neville and myself were engaged in a prank war against the Weasley twins. We started off pranking each other, but that got out of hand very quickly. Since we didn't want it to escalate too far, we decided to settle it at the feast. We would each plan pranks on the school at large, and whoever's was better would be the winner.

We pranked Snape since he's a git and all the rest, but the Weasley twins pranked the whole of Slytherin house, which Daphne is a member of. I think she suspected I was behind it and did not take it well at all. I mean, I don't think being dressed in a leotard would be fun, but still.I don't think she was actually trying to be cruel, I just think she wanted answers or to get revenge, or to make a point, or something… if you can't tell, I have no idea. Anyways, she bound me in ropes when I wasn't paying attention and I sort of panicked and froze.

It was just… too many bad memories from before you found me that night and I… sort of had a bit of a breakdown. I don't know what I should do now. I'm upset with Daphne but I don't know if I should be. She didn't know any of that happened so she couldn't have known, but she still tied me up in bloody ropes! I'm mad at her, but it's not like I don't like her anymore… ugh! Emotions are hard, I don't know what I'm saying and this is the fifteenth damn draft but I think you get my point.

If you could give me any advice, please, please do; I'm lost. I don't know if I should approach her or if I should wait for her to approach me. I don't know what I say when that happens and I just don't know what to do.

Anyways, I'm really sorry for rambling but this whole thing has stressed me out big time!

Oh, and there was another attack, this time on a first year Gryffindor instead of a cat. There's a lot going on here that I can't tell you, but I hope things are more peaceful on your end.

I can't wait to see you again at Christmas,

Harry.

Harry sighed again, this time in exasperation. It was far from the best letter he had ever sent her and frankly, it was probably the least eloquent, but he thought it would suffice. Rolling up the parchment, Harry slowly got to his feet, but he was jump scared a second later when a voice spoke up from behind him.

"What are you doing awake at this time, Harry?"

Harry whirled around and had to fight very, very hard against the impulse to draw his wand. Standing before him with a questioning expression on her rather attractive features was Parvati Patil.

"Oh, hey Parvati. I guess you could say I'm a morning person. I always tend to get up this early."

Parvati sniffed. "That sounds awful." she told him as she made a face.

Harry smiled amusedly back at her. "You're as bad as Ron." he told her with a roll of his eyes.

She pouted. "Don't compare a fine lady to Weasley! Have you seen his table manners?"

Harry snorted. "I didn't mean it like that, but yeah, I have." A year ago, if a girl had responded like that to him, he'd have stuttered his way through the rest of the conversation. Daphne had taught him the art of teasing fairly well, so he could now usually keep his composure when somebody decided that teasing was in the cards.

Parvati rolled her eyes, not dignifying his comment with a reply.

"Why are you up at this time?" Harry returned her original question with genuine curiosity. "I don't think I've seen you awake this early before."

Parvati wrinkled her nose. "Of course you haven't! Sorry Harry, but no sane person is awake at this hour by choice. I just couldn't sleep, that's all."

"Ah," Harry nodded, "fair enough, and between the two of us, I don't disagree with you."

Parvati giggled before asking a question in return. "Are you going somewhere?"

Harry shrugged. "The owlery and then out to the grounds."

Parvati gaped at him. "The grounds? What on earth would anybody want to do out on the grounds at this time of day?"

Harry hesitated. "That's a secret." he answered cryptically.

Parvati just rolled her eyes again. "Or I could just — Jeez, I don't know — follow you out onto the grounds and find out." Harry winced, realizing he had painted himself in a bit of a corner. That was the problem with being The-Boy-Who-Lived and all the rest. He was the perpetual centerpoint of everyone's interest and attention at Hogwarts. If word got out that Harry worked out on the grounds every morning at the crack of dawn, he had no doubt, as ludicrous as the thought may be, that he would have a crowd of people watching him from now on.

For so many reasons both practical and personal, that would not do.

"If I tell you, will you promise not to tell anybody? Not even Lavender?"

Parvati beamed at him. "Of course," she told him with a wide smile, "I wouldn't dare share your secrets!"

Harry sighed. "I workout on the grounds each morning. I'm trying to improve at combat magic and a large part of that is physical fitness. The routine is absolutely mental, but I'm getting the hang of it and I don't feel like I've been in a wreck every morning at this point."

Parvati was gaping like a fish again. "That sounds awful!" she told him, clearly mortified.

Harry shrugged. "It was at first, but it's gotten much easier as time's gone on."

Parvati rolled her eyes. "Well, I was going to ask you if you wanted company but frankly, there is no way I'm going outside right now!"

Harry laughed. "I don't blame you. As a matter of fact, I envy you." Then, with one last wave exchanged between the two yearmates, Harry turned on his heel and marched out of Gryffindor Tower to begin yet another day.

November 13th 1992.

The Headmaster's Office.

7:00 PM.

"Ah, Harry, punctual as ever; I do admire that about you, I must confess." Dumbledore greeted his young pupil as Harry entered his office for their weekly lesson in Occlumency.

Harry smiled; it was still nice being praised by Dumbledore of all people. "Thank you, sir. Will we be getting back to it then?"

"Not quite," Dumbledore told him with a smile, "I did tell you during one of your last meetings that at the turn of the month, you may be ready to progress onto the next stage of Occlumency." Harry's heart leapt. "Well, I have had much on my mind as of late, as I'm sure you have as well, so I delayed the process by about two weeks, for which, I do apologize. Nevertheless, I believe it is time for you to progress to the next level of Active Occlumency."

Harry's attention had been caught. "What is that step, sir?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "You are as eager of a student as I could have ever hoped for. Thus far, I have taught you the most rudimentary method to break the connection established when a Legilimens seeks to infiltrate another's thoughts." Harry nodded; quite obviously, he knew this already. "Well, frankly, breaking said connection is not always enough. For a variety of reasons, this is sometimes not possible. To simplify matters, I will simply say this most often happens when a Legilimens gains a certain amount of proficiency with being subtle in their investigations. Thus far, I have attacked your mind with the most blunt means I know of outside of pointing my wand at your forehead and screaming the incantation for the gods to hear. Now, I will be doing so with more subtlety. You will not be trying to break the connection. Instead, you will keep your image strong but this time, I would like you to focus on your magic if you can. Think of the sensation that spreads through your body when you cast a spell. Focus on that sensation and pull it to the forefront of your imagination. Will yourself to control it and then drape said magic around your image. You are to cloak your image in raw magic. This is how you form rudimentary Occlumency shields and that is the next step of your progression.

"I do not anticipate that I will be attacking your mind tonight. On this wonderful evening, you will simply be gaining the feel for this process and I will be here to assist the best I can and answer any questions along the way." Harry nodded; it sounded difficult, but not complex, per se.

It turned out that it was even more difficult than it sounded. By the time the lesson had concluded, Harry had only made small progress with the process. Part of him was exasperated, even annoyed with himself but a large part of him was prepared for this challenge. At the same time, he thought his quest to cast silently was difficult enough at the moment, but that was another matter altogether.

"Do not be discouraged." Dumbledore told him at the end of the meeting. "The progress you have made is excellent even though it will not seem so. This process will take months, Harry. Building rudimentary shields is the lengthiest process within the teaching of Occlumency, but I have no doubt you will get there quickly enough."

He smiled. "The level of mastery you have over magic at your age is remarkable Harry, and I am not the only one who has taken notice." His eyes sparkled as he opened a drawer on his desk and withdrew a rather immaculate looking envelope before handing it over to Harry. "Read this over and please consider it carefully. I do not expect, nor do I want an answer tonight. I wish for you to discuss this with Lady Augusta and anyone else you trust. I will be attending this event and I have done so annually for many years. Therefore, as well as bringing you to and from said event, I would also be pleased to answer any and all questions you may have if you trust me in such matters." There was a certain sadness in Dumbledore's voice as he trailed off that reminded both occupants of the room of Dumbledore's sins in the past.

Carefully and with a great deal of curiosity Harry opened the envelope, withdrew the letter and began to read. By the time he had finished, his jaw was agape.

Dear Harry Potter,

I have known Albus for many, many years and he has not gushed so openly about a student during any of them.

With this fact in mind, combined with your expedition at the end of your first year to save what you then believed to be ma Pierre Philosophale, me and my wife Perenelle are happy to extend a hopeful invitation to you.

We take pride in inviting you to our annual Christmas Eve Gala held at my family estate. Many of the top politicians, theorists, athletes and witches and wizards from all other walks of life will inevitably be attending as always and it seems you are on your way to being among them.

Please respond personally or through Albus by December 1st.

We eagerly await your reply,

Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel.

Author's Endnote:

How's that for a bang to end a chapter?

I know the last few chapters have been very heavy on Dumbledore, but he is quite important to the story. Also, this is a bit of a transition phase in terms of major plot points.

Please read and review.

PS: The next chapter will be posted next Sunday, May 17th 2020.