Dobby's Warning

Like an Old Friend

28 June 1992

Before leaving Dreamtime, Karkaroff and Thanos came to his room.

Karkaroff stepped forward first. "Potter, Potter, Potter. My dream will not die."

Thanos inclined her head. "Neither will mine."

Fourteen year old Kangjeon Daeshim had won the Elite Potions Tournament. Fifteen year old Freya Heimir – who he looked forward to laying eyes on – had won the Triwizard tournament.

What a nightmare.

"I expect you to practice every day you're away from me. You are surrounded by talented duelists. Use them," Karkaroff said softly. "The Headmaster gave you a list. I expect you to have made headway by the sixteenth of August. You and I will meet Wednesday and Saturday evenings. Understand?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

Karkaroff turned on his heel. "Don't play with me, Potter," he said before leaving the room.

"I've spoken to your grandfather," Thanos said. "You and I will meet everyday at your house in Greece starting tomorrow. He said he has something set up for you to meet me?"

Harry laid his palm on his forehead. "I'll see."

"He said the house-elf will be with us at all times, so you need not be concerned."

Harry snorted. "I can take you, Madam. You? I'm not scared of you."

She stepped forward with a smirk on her lips. She licked her teeth in a way that reminded him of Bellatrix and he stepped back. So she raised her eyebrows. "Oh? She scares you."

"No, but don't do that anymore. I want to like you."

She patted his head then said, "You and I will still meet Tuesdays and Thursdays. If I feel a need, I'll add Mondays, but I think we'll make a lot of progress this July."

"If you say so."

Twenty minutes later, he walked into the dining room at Fleamont's house and plopped down in a chair with a sigh.

Almost immediately, yogurt with honey and a bowl of berries appeared in front of him.

"Don't break the furniture," Naomi snapped. "Don't they teach manners at Durmstrang?"

Harry looked at her and blatantly rolled his eyes.

"Good morning," Henry said.

"Hello to you, too," James greeted.

Harry waved a dismissive hand. "It's morning. I can see the time."

"What is your problem?" Henry asked.

"His thunder was stolen," James answered. "You'll be a legend when you win all three regardless of your age."

Naomi looked at James, but didn't say anything.

Harry laughed. "Even if I wanted to concede that, I can't. Which makes you a very lucky person."

"And why is that?" James asked.

"I get to make use of you."

James held a hand to his heart. "Oh, thank you, Harry," he gushed.

Harry nodded. "I need to practice endurance and compartmentalization."

Everyone looked at him.

"What? The twins know legilimency and I'm not stupid enough to think Delphine doesn't know either." He rubbed his forehead. "I also have to work on defending against transfiguration instead of engaging."

"I'm a transfiguration theoretician?"

Harry picked up a piece of bacon. "Bully for you." He ignored James' offended look as he leaned back in his seat. "What can I do with that?" Almost immediately, he sat up. "Can I transform the air?"

"Do you want to continue breathing?" Naomi asked.

Harry waved his hand as if to bat the question away. "I know how to transform one thing among many." To emphasize the point, he jabbed his wand. "Transvertus." The white tea in some of their goblets turned to wine.

"You failed," Naomi said.

Henry sat up and looked around.

He ignored her. "So? Can you help me?" he asked James.

"Why should I?"

"Harry…what did you just do?"

Harry looked at Henry with a grin and turned back to James. "Don't make me go to Sirius. He'll enjoy tossing me around and I'll never forgive you," he said.

James rolled his eyes. "Finish your breakfast and we'll go to the beach." He picked up his goblet and took a gulp of what he believed was tea only to choke on it. "He turned the damn tea to wine," he gasped out.

Henry tasted his. "This is tea."

"I have wine," Euphemia said.

Harry picked up his goblet. "See? I know what I'm doing. Cheers."

Henry leaned forward. "Who taught you occlumency?"

"Aunt Cass."

"Why?"

Harry placed a spoon in his yogurt. "Oh, 'cause I'm looking for the – err – Grindelwald read me a fairytale years ago and if I find something I don't think he should know about it."

Naomi didn't notice, but James, Harry, and Simeon did. Not that the latter, or the former for that matter, knew what they were noticing. Euphemia, who had been speaking to Simeon, had dropped her fork with a clatter. Fleamont had started then looked at his father. Henry didn't flinch or start or drop anything. One had to look for the change, but it was there.

He had paled.

Hmm…

An hour later, Harry and James were dueling on the beach. The were separated about the distance of a dueling platform. Henry and Simeon were sitting in chairs on the side watching.

"That's a neat trick," James said after attacking Harry with ropes, "but slowing down an object is just an extra step and not one any child of mine will take. Let's practice that until you get it. I'll start slow."

Harry nodded.

Fine by him.

They were out there for hours. James was a far kinder teacher than Karkaroff. He went slow, allowing Harry to transform objects one at a time. Then he picked up speed and added objects until Harry was practicing on the defensive.

Henry helped out, too.

"Your strokes are too long and too broad and, therefore, too slow," Henry said. "You want to be faster."

Harry, red-faced and sweaty, laughed. "You know, you're the first person to tell me I'm too slow?"

"Oh, you're fast," Henry said. "You're meeting a grown man who's dueled for fun spell for spell for about a minute. But you want to be faster. Clean it up!"

With that, he stood behind Harry to correct his stance.

"Pull your arms in. You want them taut," he said. "And try to begin with your body centered. You don't want to be exposed too much in either direction. You also want to be able to move one way or another without leaving a part in the red."

That evening, while Harry was beginning his assignment on emotion in magic for Veen, Henry paid him a visit.

He stepped inside and closed the door. "Harry…"

"Yeah?"

Henry didn't respond, so Harry looked up. That's when Henry said, "I'm asking – begging – you to stop. He read the fairytale to you for a reason, Harry. Don't give him what he wants. Stop."

Harry exhaled. "Fine."

"Tomorrow and for the rest of the summer and maybe until I'm satisfied, you will sit with me and practice occlumency. At school you will meditate and clear your mind after you wake and before you go to sleep. Understand?"

Harry, who only meditated at night, nodded. "Fine." Before Henry left the room, Harry asked, "Which one is it? I know Grindelwald has the wand. It's why Gregorovitch is dead. He didn't want Tom to figure it out."

Henry paused with his hand on the knob. He stood stock still as if – and Harry knew he was – contemplating his answer. "Amazing. We managed to keep this from Taurus, James, and everyone else born under this new order, but you. The moment you got here you changed the trajectory of everything."

"I'm not finished yet."

Henry nodded. "I know. Everyday it's something new. You know, it's been decades since I received a marriage contract?"

Harry started.

Henry laughed. "Yes, and very few from the east. I have ten downstairs. I can only imagine how much things will pick up when you begin to win." He sighed. "Death is nothing to be afraid of."

Harry tilted his head. "I know?" But as the words left his mouth his eyes widened. "Oh, yeah, I'll greet it like an old friend."

••

Lysandra

3 July 1992

'Simeon doesn't have a single interest in dueling!'

'Maybe if you encouraged and helped him he would. You spend hours with Harry. Everyday.'

Harry, who was walking down the hall, rolled his eyes.

'Because he asked me!'

Harry inclined his head as the door to Henry's bedroom opened. He stopped.

'Simeon shouldn't have to ask.'

'Bullshit!'

Harry pointed to the window when Henry stopped in the doorway. "Can I go?"

Henry waved his hand. "Please."

'Simeon should be your first priority.' They didn't hear, but James must have said something for Naomi shouted, 'Yes! Simeon is your heir. He knows very little about this family and no one has ever tried to teach him."

Henry stopped and looked at their bedroom door with amazement shining on his face. "The hell did she say?"

Harry grinned up at him. "Sir?"

He glared at him until a door opened. "Spend some time with your son, James." Naomi stepped out the room and her eyes zeroed in on Harry, seemingly not even seeing Henry.

Loudly, Harry said, "Yes, Grandfather, I'd love to have lunch with you today. Too bad Simeon went – oi!"

Henry had grabbed a handful of Harry's t-shirt and was pulling him downstairs. "You are a menace. I should make you have lunch with me…but you would tell Charlus."

Harry smirked. "I haven't mentioned Mrs. Black yet," he whispered.

Henry's eyes widened comically and Harry howled.

"Barty," he gasped out. "He said he s-saw…at her house – "

Henry tugged on his arm and led him outside. "You are coming with me."

Harry hesitated. He'd been on his way to Spinner's End, but shrugged in the end. He could delay a few days, so he latched onto Henry's hand and the apparated away.

A few seconds later, they were outside a familiar beachfront villa.

Holding his chest, Harry gasped and bent over. "You brought me to Spain?! In one jump?"

"You've been here before?"

Harry rubbed his chest as he said, "Barty took me camping in Tramuntana and we stopped here before coming home. How could you do that?"

Henry held out his hand and placed his arm around Harry's shoulder as they headed to the front door. "I apologize."

Harry scowled at him and Henry pinched his cheek.

The door opened and a tall woman with long, graying blonde hair stuck her head out. She had the sharp features of a Yaxley, but she was still lovely looking. She raised her eyebrows at Harry, who grinned.

Beside him, Henry sighed. "This might have been a grave mistake."

"You must be Harry."

Harry nodded. "Yes, it's nice to meet you, Mrs. Black."

She smiled down at him as Henry kissed her cheek. "Please, don't be taken in by a silver-tongued child."

She laughed. "I've heard a lot about you," she said to Harry.

"Good or bad?"

She shook her head as she took his hand. "Which do you prefer?"

"Bad. I don't like to walk into a room where there are high expectations."

She laughed. "You are adorable."

They heard Henry groan. "Definitely a grave mistake."

Harry held attention for the afternoon and Henry, despite his groaning and sighs, appeared to be pleased. That evening, as they were sitting down for dinner, the door opened. A few moments later, Bartemius entered the room.

He nodded at Harry. "This explains why I have been unable to find you."

"Good evening, Bartemius," Harry said. "How may I help you?"

"I don't want you anymore. Good evening, Grandmother. Mr. Potter," he finished with a smirk. He sat down as rabbit stew and steamed vegetables appeared on the table.

Mrs. Black hesitated. "Bartemius…"

"Walked into your home months ago, saw this, and told the boy," he finished. "Just make sure I'm in the room when everyone else finds out."

Harry raised his glass. "Hear, hear."

••

Spinner's End

6 July 1992

Snape…had not come from money.

That had always been obvious, but now Harry understood how Lily had been convinced of his lies. Outside the fact she probably wanted to be that is.

He'd walked through a labyrinth of brick houses under broken street lamps. The chimney of an old mill towered over the neighborhood and loomed over this street particularly.

At last Harry came to 13 Spinner's End, which was the last house on that side of the intersection, opposite 14 Spinner's End. An old woman inside said house craned her neck out her window for a better look at him.

As he walked to the door, he removed his pen knife from his pocket then unlocked it. He pulled out his wand then crept inside. The door led directly to the sitting room, which was dark beyond the lighting. Harry was reminded of the 'bedroom' he'd been in at Malfoy Manor. The walls were completely covered in black or brown, leather bound books. There was a threadbare couch, an armchair, and a rickety table.

His eyes swept the room, but found none of the books looked anything like school textbooks. So he looked around the ground floor, which there wasn't much to, then headed upstairs.

He found trunks in an attic. They were full of her and Snape's old school stuff. He left her things alone and looked through Snape's potions books. Every recipe was annotated and the second one had spells in them.

Excellent.

He heard a creak from somewhere in the house, so he stuffed the books in his bag. He got to his feet with a fireball in one hand and his wand in the other. He shifted over the side and crouched down.

"Protego," he whispered.

A moment later, something cracked and the room flashed bright pink.

Lily Evans, a beautiful woman with long, auburn hair and almond-shaped, green eyes, entered the attic.

Alone.

"Malfoy or Black?" she called.

Harry got to his feet and, for the first time in eight days shy of ten years, his eyes met an identical set. The other set widened and their owner paled.

Of the ways he'd imagined meeting his mother again, crouching in the attic at Snape's house hadn't crossed his mind. He doubted she'd envisioned anything like this either.

"Robbie – "

"Harry. I've been Harry Potter for eight years."

That brought her up short, but after a moment, she nodded. "I know. I was told. I've heard. Why are you here?"

"I wanted Snape's books. Potions."

For a moment she looked amused. "The Potters couldn't help you with that?"

"No," he drawled. "Their books are of complicated potions the family created. I'm looking for help with the standard potions they shared with the world."

"And you came to Severus Snape? Will they like that?"

Harry smirked. "Snape could've made a fortune with these notes. I think James Potter would be ecstatic to get his hands on them."

Lily stared at him.

He shrugged. "Someone vowed to keep the Prince's impoverished. I'm just doing my part."

She moved her wand, but nothing happened.

"You can't get anything off or out of me," Harry said. "There's not a thing Barty, Henry, Cassiopeia, and Charlus haven't charmed. Really I wore these clothes on purpose."

"Harry…that's his life's work."

Harry tilted his head. "Do you care because their Snape's life's work or because you don't want Potter to profit?"

"It's wrong, Harry."

Harry smiled, but then yelled, "So was slitting Taurus' throat while Evan beat the shit out of me! Stealing from him will be the kindest thing I do to Sev." He pointed to the window. "Do I have to jump or will you move?"

"He killed your cousin?"

"My mother and father!"

Lily closed her eyes and Harry took the opportunity to brush past her. She didn't stop him, so he left the house in a rush. Harry stomped through the labyrinth until he remembered he was a wizard with a broom and wand.

••

Found Family

11 July 1992

He'd been brewing Cooling Tonic when the front door slammed shut. Harry jumped, slicing his hand in the process.

"Shit," he hissed.

"I'll let that slide," Thanos said.

Harry blinked at her as she healed his hand. "Shit," he hissed again.

She looked into his eyes.

"You're a parselmouth, Professor Thanos," Harry hissed. Her eyes widened as he grew contemplative. "Thanos, Thanos, Thanos…" He frowned. "Athanosios? Immortal. Clever."

"I'm home," Charlus announced.

Harry turned around to see him entering the room. "I can see that."

"You haven't seen me in six months and this is how you greet me?"

"Yes."

Charlus looked at Thanos. "You must be the Deputy Headmistress who snatched him from Hogwarts."

They shook hands as she looked Charlus up down. "Yes, and I'm told you have another grandson?"

"Ha!" he said. "He's dead set on Hogwarts and I won't stop him."

"There's Jason at the Palladion," Harry said.

Thanos looked at him. "I know."

Charlus laughed then tapped the table. "I'll be upstairs."

Charlus left and Harry turned back to her. "So…Herpo the Foul?"

••

The Scamander House

24 July 1992

"'Sup, mate," Rolf said when he arrived at the Scamander house.

From a distance, the house looked like your standard English country home. However, wild grass grew all around it. The flowers were colorful and vibrant and magical. One, a pretty red thing blew him a kiss and started to sing. He felt compelled to walk to it, but things running in the grass stayed his feet. He promised himself to stay out of it. Merlin only knew what Newt Scamander kept in there.

Harry stepped inside to a hallway with vibrant green wallpaper. Portraits of different animals and creatures hung on them. They hissed and roared and purred.

Rolf led him to an old man with a familiar scar on his face. He also leaned on a cane. Newt Scamander's hair was pure silver and his eyes were blue.

"Harry Potter," Mr. Scamander said. "You look like him."

Harry smiled. "Thank you."

He introduced Harry to his wife, Porpentina, a heart-shaped face woman with thin lips and dark eyes. She still had a lot of brown hair.

"Rolf tells us you're an excellent duelist," she said as she looped her arm in his. "Carrying on the tradition of your namesake?"

Harry nodded. "I'm trying."

Dinner was in another vibrant room. This one red with lots of cherry wood. Outside he could see a flower garden where the flowers appeared to arguing with each other. They were even throwing their petals!

The dish was something Harry had never seen before, but it gave a face to something that had been on a menu at Durmstrang.

"Gado gado," Mr. Scamander said. "Rolf told us you eat very little meat," Newt said. "As do we, so we thought to give you something your palate may be unfamiliar with."

Harry smiled and gave his thanks.

"You have no interest in herbology?" Mr. Scamander mused as they ate.

Harry shook his head. "Nope, but I'll get to it."

"Whatever you discover will simply be a…" Mr. Scamander waved his hand.

"Another achievement to put on my wall, yes," Harry admitted. "I have no love for it, but I need it to understand astronomy and potions better."

Mr. Scamander tutted.

Harry shrugged. "It's hot outside."

Rolf laughed. "I thought you loved the heat?"

"I do, but to swim and fly in. Not to garden." He nodded at the arguing flowers. "Why are they fighting?"

Rolf laughed harder and Mr. Scamander joined him.

Porpentina sighed. "Rolf wanted to know what would happen if two opposing, magical plants were planted right next to each other. Naturally, we have an entire flower bed full of opposing flowers. They fight at all times of the day!"

Harry joined in on the laughter.

••

Dawn Park

7 August 1992

The gates of Dawn Park had been obliterated. The stone pillars had been turned to dust on the ground and the iron had been melted or blown to bits. The stone driveway was in ruin. There were scorch marks on the stone and some of trees framing it had been chopped, burned, or uprooted.

But the deer and unicorn still ran through the forests and the bluebells were plenty in the wild grass.

Harry and George Abbott, the contractor he'd hired, stopped where the driveway opened to the land.

The grass had grown tall with weeds and the deer ran through it with abandon. It was a shame they might have to be pushed back to the forest but it was unseemly.

Directly across from them were the remains of a Georgian manor. The tall pillars Harry had seen in the portraits were gone. Their remains lay on the front steps, which had its own holes. The front door was no more. A good portion had been burned down. A lot of the windows had been blown out and pieces of the roof lay in the grass.

Harry, who stood well over six feet with brown hair, blue eyes, and broad shoulders, blew out a breath. "Well?" he said. His voice was deep and it rumbled in his chest.

Mr. Abbott, a middle-aged man with thinning, blond hair, nodded. "This should take us about three weeks, give or take a few days," he said. "We'll get started next Monday."

Harry nodded.

They then went to check out the rest of house. Blood had dried on the floor and Harry wondered who'd died here. Parts of the ceiling had been blown out and the golden chandelier was in pieces on the floor. The portraits and the statues were gone. He wondered if Henry had taken them or if they'd been stolen.

As they walked, Harry scrunched up his face. What the hell was that smell? It smelled like something rotten and he was left to wonder if a dead body was in the house.

Mr. Abbott placed a finger to his mouth and Harry raised his eyebrows. Still, he remained silent.

Harry got his answer when they came across a green fungus on the floor. He felt he'd done Charlus justice by keeping his wits about him, even after spying a set of eyes in the fungus.

Mr. Abbott waved his wand and a powerful Scourging Charm got rid of a large mass of bundimun covering the floor of the living room. Portions of the floor it had left behind had rotted away.

"There will be more," Mr. Abbott said softly.

There had been a lot more and Harry was left to wonder just how the house was still standing. Henry had chosen his fortune over his house, but had he done something to protect the foundation of his ancestral home, too?

Once Mr. Abbott had rid the house of all its infestations, muggle and magical, Harry led him back outside.

"You'll be able to get in by just tapping the lock with your wand. Three times."

Once he was gone, Harry pulled out a hip flask. He had to meet with a landscaper and an interior designer.

••

Dobby

14 August 1992

Crack!

Harry hit the floor with a thump and hissed. He'd been hovering above the floor and now had a single, glaring eye open.

Dobby, a house-elf, had appeared in his bedroom. He was a small, humanoid creature with big, floppy ears and large, tennis ball-like eyes.

"Hello, Dobby."

"Harry Potter," he squeaked. "Dobby is happy to see you again."

Harry inclined his head. "What can I do for you, Dobby?"

"Master Lucius returned to Malfoy Manor."

Harry paused then asked, "And why are you telling me?"

"The mistress wished for you to know."

Harry sighed. "Why?"

"Master Lucius removed a book from his father's study. Hidden in a place His Majesty could not see," Dobby said. "Tom Riddle gave Master Abraxas the book to hold, but Master Lucius wishes to use it without permission."

Harry snorted. "Idiot."

He frowned. Narcissa was either afraid, changing her ways, or both. He'd bet it was the former. She'd left her husband, sister, and father-in-law behind. Lucius had managed to evade capture and Bellatrix had managed to escape Delphinium House, killing a number of Aurors in the process. She'd left her daughter Delphine behind, too, and Harry hadn't seen anyone named Lestrange in years. He doubted Narcissa, who had always wanted a daughter had had anything to do with her niece either.

"Do you know what this book is, Dobby?"

Dobby shook his head. "Dobby only knows what Dobby saw."

"How did Lucius get in and out undetected? Dumbledore or Barty should have something in place there."

Dobby shuffled. "Master Lucius demanded Dobby remove them."

Harry nodded. "Thank you, Dobby. If you hear or see anything else, come back to me. Even if you're told not to."

Dobby nodded then bowed before disapparating.

Harry sighed when he was gone. He had to go to Dumbledore.

An hour later, Harry went downstairs to find everyone except Charlus, who was in Greece, in the living room.

"Where are you going?" James asked. "I didn't realize you had something on your itinerary today. Will I have to start penciling myself in."

Harry raised his eyebrows. James had wanted to go to a quidditch game, but that had conflicted with his long-standing camping plans with Bartemius. James was clearly still sore about it.

"No, but you should start telling me things in advance. So I can be available."

"It was a surprise!"

Harry nodded. "I understand, but I'm busy."

"You're eleven."

"And a hot commodity. Limited edition. Only one Harry Potter to go around."

Henry cleared his throat.

"Only one Harry Potter to go around," Harry repeated.

"Harry James."

Harry looked at him. "Grandfather Henry?" He smirked. "That's your name."

Henry opened his mouth, but shook his head. "I'm not arguing this with you again."

"Glad you're givin' up. There is one Harry Potter here, I am him, and I can prove it."

Henry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I am an adult," he said to himself. However, we he opened his eyes to find Harry still grinning at him, he barked, "You are annoying! Why are you so unbearable? How did you get like this?"

James laughed behind him.

"Well, most people say I get it from my father. I mostly agree."

"Oi! Wait, which one? I'm one hundred percent fine with this being a Taurus thing."

Harry ignored him. "But Aunt Cass said I picked up Charlus' habits and Barty and Mr. Prewett said sometimes they're sad they can't fight me like they did Charlus. Grandpapa said I was named properly. Mr. and Mrs. Ogden said they don't need to see you again 'cause they met me and Mrs – "

"Harry!" Henry called.

Harry covered his mouth with his hand as he tried not to laugh out loud.

"Go back to your room. That is a talent you have, dear boy, but I don't need you to practice on me."

Harry laughed. Hard. When he was finally able to breathe, he wiped his eyes. "My stomach hurts," he gasped out. "Whew. I actually came down here because I have to go somewhere."

"Have. To?" Henry said. "Is someone to die?'

He nodded. "Most likely."

Henry raised his eyebrows. "Are you being dramatic again?"

"No, the Mal – " Harry paused then looked behind him. His eyes met Naomi's then he glanced at Simeon. He glanced at the ceiling then turned back to Henry to whisper in his ear.

He heard Naomi scoff, but the Harrys ignored her.

When Harry straightened, Henry said, "You will trust this?"

"I don't have a reason not to. I'm owed and she wants to deal with those people as much as I do," he said.

Henry exhaled. "Go, but you are to be back here in an hour."

"Yes, sir."

One floo ride later and Harry was in Dumbledore's office.

It was a large, circular room full of interesting things and people. Across from him were ceiling-to-floor windows. In the spaces that separated them were glossy bookcases just as long as the windows. Halfway around the room, the bookcases became portraits of Dumbledore's predecessors. Spindly tables full of silver objects that puffed, whirred, and smoked went around the room.

Dumbledore was behind a large, mahogany desk opposite the door. His staff, which had to include over fifty people, were in the chairs and sofas around the room.

He'd crashed a staff meeting.

Harry leaned against the fireplace with a grin on his lips. "Good afternoon," he said in Latin. "I'm sorry, but – err – I wouldn't come here unless – "

Dumbledore asked, "Has something devastating happened?"

Harry felt amused as he said, "Not yet."

"Is danger imminent?"

"I can't say, but I don't think so."

Dumbledore nodded. "Give me a minute."

He pointed to a chair, but Harry swaggered over to the furthest bookcase. He searched the bookcase until he spotted one called Ignis. It was a large tome full of fire related magic.

"I realize you are all about education, Albus, but I do think we should inspire and allow the children to compete," a round, bald man stated. "Shamira Shafiq just turned fourteen. Freya Heimir is fifteen. Durmstrang had fifty students between Beauxbatons and Castelobruxo and still managed to be heavy in the final rounds of the dueling tournament led by first, second, and third years. Albus…" Harry heard movement then, "I am looking at a nightmare."

Harry looked up again and met gooseberry eyes. He laughed.

"Durmstrang, while their performance was surprising, trains their students to do what they do," Dumbledore said. "They are forced to compete against each other."

"It would force students to do their best," someone squeaked.

Harry, who was glancing over a section on Fiendfyre, tilted his head in agreement

"What does 'compete against each other entail?'" a Scotswoman asked. After a moment, she said, "Young man?"

Harry looked into another set of pale green eyes. Professor McGonagall was about Bartemius' age. She had a low, tight bun full of black hair and square, silver glasses on her nose.

He opened his mouth then hesitated when he wondered if he could or should, but shrugged his shoulders. "Each advisor has a team. The top potions student of every year for each advisor is in the potions tourney in February. The top twenty gets to go to the competition if the next year is the elite tournament. Err – for dueling each year level has a competition then the top fifty of each year duels the other six. The top twenty gets to go compete against the other ten schools."

Harry was beginning to be happy about Grindelwald's ultimatum. Hogwarts and Beauxbatons looked at age and skill set. Durmstrang, while not entirely a meritocracy, only focused on skill set.

"Once a week during class each student also duels their classmates," a nasally voice said. "The half-blood, great-granddaughter spoke out of it in my presence."

Harry looked up to curl his lip at the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black, a clever-looking wizard dressed in all green.

"You are still a manner-less beast, I see."

Harry exhaled through his nose and it came out like smoke.

Phineas got out of his seat and stomped out his portrait muttering to himself. "I will not be threatened by some filthy, runt of a half-blood…"

"I always like it when you come around," the portrait of Elizabeth Burke said. "There's never not a moment of entertainment."

Harry winked at her then went back to the book as the professors engaged each other once more. At last they decided to increase the pool. Third and fourth year students would be considered.

Poor Naomi.

He shook hands with a number of professors on their way out.

The last one was a middle-aged woman with tomato-colored hair and silver eyes. Harry perked up when he heard, "Perenelle Flamel, Mr. Potter. It's nice to meet you," she said in French.

Harry grinned at her. "You, too, Professor."

She was the lesser known Flamel, but she was a dab hand at charms and the soft arts. Not to mention she was a tinkerer and should be just as knowledgeable as her husband.

"I enjoyed your essay on flying. What else do you have for us?"

Harry laughed. "Nothing. I'm focusing on the tournaments. I should have something for you by my fifth year."

She tutted. "So long away. I will be watching."

"I'll be entertaining."

She laughed on her way out. When she shut the door, silence permeated the room.

"What brings you to me?" Dumbledore asked when they no longer heard voices.

"Distance and open-mindedness."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"The Malfoy elf came to me about an hour and a half ago."

He proceeded to tell Dumbledore everything Dobby had told him, including the bit about Narcissa.

"And you have no idea as to what this book could be?"

Harry shook his head. "No, sir. My mind is wide open. Tom would never share those kind of secrets with me "

Dumbledore nodded. "Thank you, Harry, for this information. I will have Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy watched. I would suggest you watch your back and keep your eyes open."

Harry got to his feet. He understood the dismissal and was thankful for it. He needed to send a note to Cassius Warrington. "Enjoy the rest of your day, sir."