Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to J. K. Rowling.

Chapter 32:

The Christmas holidays were coming to an end. Every single item of outer clothing Harry owned had now been treated with security charms. There was also a large bundle of clothing that was now too small. The charms had been taken off those and they were to go to a charity shop. Sonia Greaves had been about to vanish it, having never before thought that anyone might look for cheap, second-hand clothing, but Harry had some bitter memories of having to wear quite unsuitable clothing. He would have been glad then, of a selection of clothing from a charity shop, but Petunia would never have permitted it. He remembered being clouted for even suggesting it.

At breakfast, Brandon showed him the newspaper with the headline, 'Albus Dumbledore arrested on multiple charges,' "So I don't expect he'll bother you ever again."

Harry grinned at him, "Pleased to hear it." He didn't think he could possibly be in trouble for hurting him; it was self-defence. He hadn't even used magic, or not that anyone knew.

He travelled back to Hogwarts very happily that day, in a carriage with Ron, Neville and three other boys in their year, two Hufflepuffs and a Ravenclaw. Dumbledore's Elder wand was now his 'spare,' securely nestled in his ankle holster. A new knife was in the other ankle holster, and his familiar holly wand, his official wand, was in the wrist holster. He was well armed, he was prepared, and he was grateful that Ron accepted his encounter with Dumbledore only as an escape, and, just as important, had agreed to keep it quiet.

Inevitably, the talk was of Dumbledore being arrested, but there was widespread disbelief, and Seamus said, "My mam said that it was nonsense and she didn't believe one word of what they were saying."

But Justin put in, "Those charges though, remember? What the paper said months ago, that we never knew him," and Michael Corner said, "It wouldn't be hard to get to a high position if you just made people think you were wise."

"You think that's what he did?"

"Well, sometimes he did seem rather a fool."

Harry said, "Just a year ago, that would have been heresy. Everyone seemed to think him wonderful."

"Did you?"

"For a while, I guess."

Justin said, "Mind Magic, unauthorised obliviations, lots of things. And I believe it. I never liked the way he favoured Gryffindors, and both Vince and Blaise say that he picks on Slytherins."

"Probably a lot of people still won't believe it. Someone helped him escape last time."

Dean said, "The new headmaster's better. He actually spoke to me. Dumbledore never spoke to me."

"What did he want?"

"He congratulated me on the gymnasium, and also, he asked me what gym equipment we wanted, and if I minded if it was opened to everyone, not just my particular friends. So I said that was okay. I don't know if he'll do anything about it though."

Harry said optimistically, "There's been lots of new stuff already, and he's only been headmaster for a few months."

He looked up as he noticed Hermione pass by in the passageway, but she barely glanced in. It was obvious she still preferred her distance.

xxx

They had become used to numbers of small tables in the Great Hall for meals, but for dinner that evening, they discovered that the long tables were restored, with the House banners displayed overhead. And then someone pointed to the head table, though not all of the teachers were there yet. Two were new, a very ordinary looking middle-aged woman, and a very beautiful black woman, probably only in her twenties. A few more teachers filed in and took their places, and then there was the seldom seen new headmaster, Professor Pucey, tall and lean, with dark hair beginning to go grey. He didn't have that air of great wisdom that Dumbledore had always shown, and he lacked the prestige that Dumbledore had once had. By comparison, Pucey appeared insignificant.

As soon as the tables seemed to have filled up, teachers and students, Headmaster Pucey went to the lectern and said, "A few announcements before the start of term feast. First, you will have noted the formal arrangement of our Great Hall this evening. We will be doing this only for the beginning and end of term and for any other formal occasion. The smaller tables will be used for other meals. I encourage mixing between Houses, and firmly discourage the ill feeling and bullying that has been characteristic of inter-House dealings in the past.

"Next, it has been suggested that the point system be abandoned as it can cause hurt. It will not be abandoned, though it has been revised. Teachers are expected to be consistent when awarding or deducting points.

"Third. Last term, on his own initiative, Dean Thomas of Gryffindor House organised a gymnasium, a very worthy endeavour which has reminded me of the importance of physical fitness. With that in mind, there are to be extra sporting facilities provided, and there is more equipment for the gym, which has been enlarged. A thank you to Mr. Thomas for his cooperation, and twenty points to Gryffindor to start the year's count.

"Also, there are to be regular physical training classes, or PT - Saturday mornings, and Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, straight after classes. These are not compulsory, but each attendance will earn credit for your house. Miss Proudfoot will be supervising these," and he indicated the beautiful black woman, who rose slightly in her seat and inclined her head.

There were a few appreciative murmurs and a quiet whistle from one of the Weasley twins. Charlie was sitting next to Harry, and said quietly, "How many will go to get fit, how many just to admire?" and someone else said, "I wonder what exercise gear she'll be wearing."

Pucey raised a hand for silence, which was granted, though not with the immediacy that Dumbledore had always been able to achieve.

"Next, I would like to introduce Professor Burbage, who is taking over from Professor Zeller in teaching Muggle Studies." The middle-aged woman sitting next to Miss Proudfoot raised herself slightly and inclined her head.

The headmaster glanced at his notes, and went on in his precise voice.

"Professor Zeller is to teach the new elective of Old Aniragi - that's the language of ancient Anirage, or Wizardkind for those who don't know. It will be available from 3rd Year, and taking the place of Divination, which is to be phased out.

"Professor Zeller is also to become House Master for Slytherin, taking over from Professor Sinistra."

There was a murmur from the Slytherin table at that. They hadn't liked taking orders from the Sinistra woman. Slytherins were not ones for worrying about Muggle Studies, so hardly anyone had experienced him as a teacher, but Zeller was known to be from an old family of pure-bloods. He was also tall and wore a formidable aspect, and now his gaze wandered over the Slytherin students and some of them fidgeted in their seats. Pucey didn't even notice, but McGonagall did, and was pleased. Slytherins needed a firm, guiding hand.

Aurora Sinistra was very pleased indeed. She had loathed some of those Slytherin pure-blood snobs, and had done the minimum in that role.

Pucey finished, "I remind you all that the Forbidden Forest is forbidden for good reason, and now we can settle for a meal."

He sat, and the tables were suddenly laden with some very good food.

xxx

The next morning, it was back to the routine, Double Herbology, Transfiguration, lunch, Defence, History of Magic. Professor Lupin taught History of Magic, and while it was an interesting lesson, Harry felt uncomfortable. The man was refusing to look at him. Ashamed of himself for drinking too much, maybe? There had been no letters or contact from Sirius since he had sent the formal letter of appreciation for the visit. He suspected that Sirius had taken a dislike to him, and maybe Lupin had as well. He didn't think he had allowed his disapproval to show, but maybe it had been noticed anyway. It was not important. He didn't expect that Lupin would treat him unfairly in class because of it, and as for Sirius, he didn't need a godfather as long as he had Brandon and Sonia.

He certainly didn't need Petunia and Vernon. It had been a surprise that she had sent a brief thank you with a belated Christmas card. He supposed it was fair enough - it had been quite a sum that he'd made over to them. The note was courteous, but it made him think of the previous Christmas. She had sent him a fifty pence piece - a 'gift' meant to point out how little regard they had for him. He supposed he might keep in contact with Sirius if Sirius wanted to keep in contact with him, but Petunia and Vernon? No. He planned to forget that he'd ever known the small-minded pair. Dudley? Dudley was his only first cousin, but Dudley was a bullying git. He could be consigned to his past as well.

There were the new PT classes, three times a week. Harry enjoyed those, and no longer bothered with other physical exercise. It was much more fun in company. He also enjoyed watching the more senior boys drool over their teacher, who routinely displayed herself in close-fitting exercise gear, low cut across the front, in a way that witches almost never did. She looked spectacular with her tall, lithe form and dark skin, He wondered how popular her classes would have been if not for that, as she did work them hard.

And she was very prompt to put an end to attempts at over-familiarity from the students. He hadn't seen any, but Charlie said that one of the 7th Year Ravenclaws had tried it on, "Kenneth Abercrombie, heir to the Vanieship. She's only a half-blood, so he probably thought she should be honoured."

"That's a powerful family, isn't it? I hope she doesn't suffer for it."

"She has friends among the Aurors, so probably not," and he added, grinning, "I hope she doesn't change the way she dresses."

Harry laughed and said that she did look rather good.

Each attendance at PT earned one point for their House, so it quickly became an important part of the competition for the House Cup, more important than anything else. Large numbers of points were no longer given for correct answers, but there were some. And large numbers of points were not deducted for misbehaviour, though there were some. Harry lost five points for being caught out after curfew one evening; that had been when he'd finally found a deserted room suitable for practising Defence spells that were far beyond the second year curriculum. He well remembered Mick Larkin's scathing words when he'd admitted not practising what he'd been taught.

But he'd become lost in the pleasure of using his 'spare' wand. It was just so effective, so responsive. It was a pleasure to use. He reckoned the moment he was seventeen, he would use that wand as his main wand. The Holly wand could become his spare then. He'd gathered that it was frowned upon to have a second wand - as if it was unsporting or something. He didn't care in the slightest. He might keep it hidden, but whenever possible, he carried the spare.

It was not possible during the PT lessons, when they wore only shorts and shirts, but he now had a flick knife, that he kept in a buttoned pocket.

The weeks spun by, busy, happy. There was one day, though, when he returned to the dormitory at an unexpected time and found three first year girls looking at him guiltily. One was kneeling next to his trunk, two close by, one of whom was Ginny Weasley, now looking as if she was about to burst into tears. And so she should if she'd been trying to steal from him.

He stood at the door, barring escape and asked, grimly, "Well?"

But one stood defiant, and said, quite calmly, "Ginny wanted a souvenir - something belonging to the great Harry Potter, that's all."

Harry looked at Ginny, who stepped back and covered her face. He asked, "Why?"

There was a muffled sob, and he looked back at the one who'd answered him, "You are Anita Pettit, is that right?"

She nodded, and indicated the other: "Lisa Smythe, just so you know who to complain about - if you're going to be a snitch!"

"You were trying to steal. Why shouldn't I tell?"

"Because we both have big brothers who'd administer some very nasty punishment, that's why."

"Really. And what about you, Ginny?"

But Ginny only sobbed out a 'Sorry' and shook her head.

Harry moved to the side of the door, and indicated, "Out!"

They scuttled, even the most brazen one, the Pettit girl. The Pettits were a Vanie family, but he was pretty sure that Anita's family was just an offshoot, not part of the main line. And Lisa's brother, Chris? He knew Chris, whom he'd always thought a decent sort. Chris wouldn't try and punish him, even if the Pettit boy did.

He glanced at his trunk, the indicator glowing red. At least it had not been Ron who'd been caught trying to open it. He hated to think that Ron could be a frank thief, even if he hadn't been honest enough to repay the money for those silly Lockhart textbooks.

He told the other boys in his dorm that evening that some girls had been there, snooping.

Dean glanced at the indicator still glowing red, and said, "That's your alarm, isn't it?"

"They were trying to get into my trunk when I caught them."

"I suppose they thought you kept money there? Or valuables?"

"No idea. They said that they were looking for a souvenir of the 'great Harry Potter,' but if that was all, they could have taken something from the drawers or the wardrobe."

"Did you make sure they didn't?"

Harry quickly got up and looked through his clothing, but then said doubtfully, "I don't think so. And I didn't see them carrying anything when they left."

Ron said scathingly, "The great Harry Potter. Is that what they said?"

Harry shrugged, "That's what they said, but it might not have anything to do with it, and maybe they were just thieving. So we all should start locking our trunks, I reckon. As for mine, I'm planning to put some sort of a jinx on it, maybe something that will show me who it was."

Ron said, "Ask the twins, then. They're good at nasty tricks."

Harry asked doubtfully, "Is it a nasty trick, though? Or just what a thief deserves?"

"I reckon it's fair enough," and when Harry glanced at the others, there were only nods. No-one looked uncomfortable, and Harry was relieved. He hadn't liked thinking that anyone in his dorm was dishonest.

Neville said, "But how could girls come here? Boys are not allowed in the girls' dorm. The stairs turn into a slide if you try."

"Do they? I didn't know that."

Dean said, grinning, "I saw it not so long ago. One of the seniors. And he just slid back down and looked stupid."

They laughed, and then Harry said, "I reckon I'll ask McGonagall. If boys are not allowed in the girls' dorms, then it should be the same the other way."

But before he had the chance to ask her, Charlie told him he was absolutely not allowed to, as some of the boys really liked having their girlfriends visit sometimes.

So he let it be, only using a jinx that stung anyone trying to access his trunk, and turning their hands purple for a couple of days.

It worked, he suspected. A day after he noticed the indicator on his trunk again showing red, he saw John Pettit, Anita's brother, wearing gloves, indicating that he may have had purple hands. He didn't say anything to show he guessed. The Pettits had a bad reputation.

It was a reminder, though, that he should not forget caution. Having something that belonged to an enemy could have its uses, and while Ginny might only be a bit of a fool, the Pettits had been rumoured to have been supporters of Voldemort. The result was that he made an effort to do more Defence practice, though as much Fighting as Defence. It was always by himself, always in secret. Even Charlie didn't know how far he had advanced.

There was a problem though. He itched to practice those spells that left major damage like 'Bombarda' or 'Incendio' or 'Confringo.' If he made a good, solid explosive spell in the room he used, there would be damage. He could even damage himself if bits of stone started flying around. He needed to find a place outside if he wanted to really let loose.

More weeks passed. He was enjoying himself, and decided that he had to just forget about practising the more destructive spells. Life was busy, Quidditch was great, and he found a new passion for playing football, which was one of the new sports that had been introduced.

There was a stiff letter from Sirius Black, no mention of their poor behaviour when he'd visited, but a few paragraphs on the improvements he'd made to the home, and also that he was now married to a lady called Cecilia Shunpike - 'a private ceremony,' he said. 'I would have asked you, but Cecilia said she didn't even want her parents,' a statement which had Harry wondering what was wrong with the family. The only Shunpike he knew of was Walter Shunpike, who worked in Children's Services at the Ministry, and he was fine. The letter ended with a vague, 'Perhaps you can visit again one day.'

When Harry replied, he said nothing about any potential visit, but after a quick check in a book for the appropriate wording, sent a formal congratulations and a wedding present that Perenelle had suggested. Perenelle was of so much value, and she always answered so quickly these days when he had questions. He was beginning to think she must live close, although according to the notes on the back of the Chocolate Frog card, the Flamels lived in Devon.

xxx

Valentine's Day arrived, and turned out to be an enormous embarrassment for Harry. He was only twelve! He didn't want Valentines cards from girls, especially not from Annalise Greaves. At least with the new system of mail delivery, Charlie hadn't seen the family owl deliver the letter to him at breakfast. He was still getting a lot of teasing when his mail slot was seen to be stuffed full. He looked at them; how could he not have looked at them? One unsigned one sang a very embarrassing little song to him when opened. He quickly destroyed that one. And he destroyed the one that was signed Marcus Flint - it had to have been someone's idea of a joke - he hoped.

There was none from Hermione, of course, signed or unsigned. He knew her writing too well to be fooled. But he hadn't been expecting one. They were far too young for that sort of thing, even if Hermione was older than himself. He wondered, though, maybe when he was sixteen? Maybe then, he'd be old enough to ask her out. Not a Valentine's Day card, which was far too embarrassing and a silly custom anyway, but maybe then it might be time, and they could be friends again? Not the same sort of friends as when they were both eleven, but a different kind of friendship.

xxx

Albus Dumbledore didn't face trial, but was put in a very secure facility for mental patients, the Vincent Grady Mental Institute. He tended to ramble, sometimes about Voldemort, sometimes about Harry Potter and how he needed him, but no-one took the slightest notice aside from a decision by the Mind Healer that he could still be a danger to the boy and so should absolutely not be released.

After the first months, Dumbledore sank into a deep depression. He still thought of himself as an important man, 'Leader of the Light,' but no-one revered him any more, and no-one did what he wanted. It never occurred to him that he was lucky to have escaped prison. He felt himself profoundly unlucky, profoundly misjudged.

xxx

Voldemort again knew who he was, but failed to possess any human, and finally decided to work up to it. Meantime, he scurried around Azkaban prison as a rat. He preferred the state of being a rat to the state of being a bodiless spirit.

xxx