Disclaimer

Harry Potter and all associated characters, locations and what not belong to J.K. Rowling and whoever she sells the rights to. I have borrowed these characters, locations and what not in order to mess around with them. In some cases I have lifted a piece of dialogue or scene directly from the books as a touchstone. I do not own anything except the plot and I am not making any money from this endeavor. This applies to the whole story.

This was a spectacularly bad idea Harry decided as curses crashed into the menhir he was hiding behind. It's a bloody miracle that no one's picked up anything more than a few cuts. The dust in the air of the Department of Mysteries was thick on his tongue and pieces of shrapnel torn from the stone in front of him pecked at his skin. We should never have come here.

The thought caused him to quickly check that the others were still in one piece. Hermione and Luna were crouched behind another menhir, while Ron, Neville and Ginny had found a barrier each. None of them were likely to be particularly happy, but they were still alive and able to keep fighting which was impressive enough when facing a dozen trained Death Eaters.

"Hang on, guys!" Harry roared out as something caught his eye. "They're here!"

Laughter greeted him from the Death Eaters who apparently took this for some juvenile distraction tactic. The laughter stopped as the members militant of the Order of the Phoenix fell on them from behind.

Harry jumped at the opportunity. "Everyone start casting! Create a crossfire to help the Order!"

A wave of spells roared out from the five hiding places, forcing the Death Eaters to defend in two directions. The terrorists showed Harry just why they had been so feared as they managed to hold their own without a single one being taken down for more than a second or two.

Gradually, he could feel the way weariness began pulling at him. I'm not going to be able to keep this up for much longer, he realized. Short on the heels of that thought came another, worse, understanding. The others are probably in the same condition. When we finally give out, we're going to be the escape route.

I need to get everyone out of here.

"Ron! Get everyone moving around the ring! We need to meet up with the Order!"

"What makes you think there's an opening?!" Ron roared back.

He's already seen the problem. Should've realized Ron would be quicker to see that than I was. "I'm going to give you cover fire! Get low, run short!"

"You heard the man! Run cover to cover! Let's go!" Ron shouted waving to make sure that the others all knew the direction they were going in.

Harry took a step out from behind his menhir to fire spells in rapid succession at anything in a black cloak or a white mask. The spells helped a bit, but, as he'd expected, the chance to launch a few curses at the Boy Who Lived provided the real distraction that would allow the others to get back to where the Order were waiting for them.

Now I just need to figure out an exit strategy before one of them hits me. Harry began retreating back behind the menhir. True, it would be less effective as cover without the others around him, but it would allow him to catch his breath and think for a moment.

"Oh no you don't, Potter!" one of the Death Eaters screamed, flames erupting from his wand. The flames formed a cavalcade of fire breathing horses and charged towards the teenage wizard who was now desperately looking for something that might keep him from being engulfed within seconds.

"HARRY!" The flames parted and Sirius Black appeared, grabbing Harry by the arm and shoving him in the direction of a small gap in the flames. "Hurry! It's Fiendfyre! I can't hold it off for long!"

Harry didn't need any more encouragement and dove through the encirclement. He was about to turn around and make sure that his godfather made it through when he heard Sirius calling out again.

"Keep going! Don't stop until we get to the others!"

It made sense and Harry immediately darted away from the flames. He kept running, unable to muster any kind of magical offence or defence as his breath was coming in short, desperate pants that would never let him get an incantation out.

"Wotcher, Harry! Get over here!" If not for Tonks' thoroughly recognizable cry, Harry might have run right past the Order or fired off a curse at a possible threat. "You alright, kid?"

" 'm fine…" he managed to gasp out. He took three more gulps of air and turned around to thank his rescuer. "Thanks, Sirius, I owe you- where is he?!"

"No time for that, Harry! We're still in the middle of a fight. You focus on taking cover with the others."

Harry pulled himself free from the young auror's grip and began scanning the battlefield, desperate to find a sign of his godfather. All he could see was a pyre, shaped like a body and utterly unmoving. "SIRIUS!" The scream tore desperately from his throat and Harry would have run right back out there if a spell hadn't yanked him back at the last moment.

"Stay. Put." a voice growled in his ear that he recognized as Mad Eye Moody. Harry couldn't give any indication that he'd heard or understood a word. All he could see was the burning body of the one man who had wanted him as part of his family.

Moody's wooden leg banged erratically against the flagstones as the hardened warrior returned to where he was needed most. Harry just felt numb, unable to process what his eyes were telling him. Maybe it's not too late a part of him offered. Magic can do so much… maybe he's just pranking me…

Harry's stupor was finally broken when one of the black robes danced past the flames and stopped, turning its mask's malevolent, empty gaze towards Harry. "I killed Sirius Black!" the figure sing-songed. "I killed Sirius Black!" Blood pounded in his ears and his vision went red. "I killed Sirius Black!"

With a wordless scream of rage, Harry surged to his feet and charged the figure who was dancing around Sirius' corpse like it was a summer bonfire. Another spell tugged at him, but this one only succeeded in tearing off a piece of his robes.

"Damn it! Someone go after Potter!" he heard Moody roar. Someone else yelled back, but they were already too far away to make out clearly over the din of the battle. The dancing Death Eater had noticed his charge and fled down a hallway, cackling madly.

Harry raced after the figure, desperate to get a clear shot and make them pay! The chase took him up several flights of stairs and eventually he burst into what he vaguely recognized as the Ministry's Atrium. Ahead of him the figure was running across an open stretch of marble floor.

"Reducto," he snarled out, aiming at their back. The red spell leapt forwards and struck the running figure on the elbow with enough force to throw them to the floor with a tortured cry. Harry raced to catch up. It's not enough. One spell is not enough.

The figure sat up and Harry could see that she had lost her mask as she went sprawling. "Bellatrix Lestrange!" he hissed out.

The deranged witch gave him a pained smirk. "Are you going to kill me, Baby Potter?" Even now she was still singing at him. "Are you going to cast another Reductor? Right between my tits perhaps? Are you going to take revenge for dear cousin Sirius?" She threw her head back and roared with laughter.

"Reducto." This time the spell impacted one of Bellatrix's knees, shattering it into a bloody pulp, drawing out another scream that brought an end to her laughter. This time she degenerated into stifled gasps of pain.

Harry walked over to her wand and picked it up where it had fallen from her hand. "I'm not going to kill you; yet. I'm going to have them stuff you full of Veritaserum and after we've wrung all your master's secrets from you, I'm going to make sure that you get a Dementor's Kiss."

"My, my, Harry Potter… all grown up and ready to torture my servants," a sibilant voice hissed out behind Harry, who whipped around and brought his wand up to point straight into a pale face. "You show promise, boy. Perhaps there is worth in you joining my brotherhood after all, hmm? You would have to stop torturing Bella though. After all, she was only doing as I ordered and separating you from your little herd of sheep."

Harry swallowed his first instinct to fire back an angry retort. Instead he took a deep breath and lowered himself into a duelling stance.

"Tsk, tsk, so eager to die for one so young. Come, Harry; come and play with me until you understand the difference between us."

The two adversaries let their first spells fly at the same moment. Harry was desperately dodging and flinging out any spell that came to mind. If they connect like they did last year I might have a chance. All I need to do is hold him here long enough for reinforcements to arrive. There has to be some limit to the amount of damage we can cause without someone being woken up, right?

"Harry! Watch out!"

He flung himself to the side, feeling the sting of shrapnel hitting his hands and face as a spell struck the marble floor where he'd just been from the direction his back had been facing. Leaping to his feet, Harry looked around, desperately trying to orient himself.

He barely noticed that Bellatrix had pulled out what looked like a spare wand as his eyes quickly tracked back to Voldemort's wand, held calmly in those long, pale fingers. Oddly the length of yew wasn't pointed at Harry. Following its line with his eyes, Harry felt his heart freeze when he saw that the wand was pointed at the terrified face of his best friend.

"Hermione!"

"So, Harry, a muggleborn witch will interfere on your behalf again? I think not."

"Don't you dare hurt her!"

Harry found himself faced with a malevolent smirk. "Very well, Harry. I shall not hurt her. I will merely… educate her." Voldemort turned back to face Hermione and began stalking towards her. "You do not belong in this world, child. It was cruel of Dumbledore to drag you into it."

"Hermione! Run!" Harry screamed as he ran to intercept Voldemort, knowing that he was too far away if the Dark Lord should choose to cast. Harry threw out a Reductor, but a magical shield sprang up between Voldemort and himself.

The smirk on Bellatrix's face made it easy to guess who had interfered. Harry snarled wordlessly and flung several Disarming Jinxes, only to have them intercepted by more of her shields.

Hermione stood frozen, eyes wide with horror.

"Yes, Dumbledore was cruel, but that does not excuse your actions. You have stolen from us, girl; stolen our knowledge, stolen our birthright. You have laid your unworthy hands and eyes on what was only meant for those who were born special."

Abruptly, Harry switched from casting at Bellatrix to flinging more Reductors at Voldemort, hoping to catch them both off guard and win Hermione a chance to escape. Pieces of rubble shot up from the floor and began swarming around Harry, blocking his shots and forcing him to slow down and blast these new obstacles out of his way before they could attack him. "Hermione!" Again there was no response to Harry's cry.

"If not for your thievery, girl, do you think that your friends would tolerate you? Tolerate your desecration of what is theirs?" Riddle came to a halt and raised his wand. "Today you will return what you have stolen and in return you will learn that you are not wanted in this world. Obliviate! Agula!"

The young witch crumpled to the ground as the spells hit her between the eyes.

"HERMIONE!" Forgetting about the cackling madman in the middle of the Atrium, Harry threw his arms in front of his face and bull-rushed through the stones blocking his path. He ran until he came skidding to a halt next to Hermione's prone form. Without dropping his wand he cradled her to him. "No, Hermione. Please be okay."

"The girl will be well, Harry," Voldemort's voice hissed out. "She will be as she was always meant to: ignorant of the true wonders of magic and unable to ever learn of it again."

Harry whipped his wand up, keeping one arm curled around Hermione's shoulders, and pointed it at the highly amused Dark Lord. "Like hell she won't learn it. You might have Memory Charmed her, but Hermione did it once and she can do it again."

Voldemort's mocking laughter made Harry's guts twist. "Oh, Harry. How naive you are. Did you truly believe that I wouldn't have considered that? The second spell I cast is an… interesting one that I learned in Ceylon. It will lock away a person's mind, leaving them permanently aware of nothing but their current knowledge, unable to learn or forget anything more than what they know at the time of casting."

"You bastard!"

"I had thought that I would end you today, Harry Potter, but I believe I will leave it at this. Spend some time with the girl and learn the truth of what I've been saying: her kind have no place in our world." With that, Voldemort disappeared in a swirl of colour, taking Bellatrix with him as his laughter echoed off the walls.

Harry let his wand drop and began rocking Hermione gently. "C'mon, Granger. You can't do this to me. Wake up." A soft whimper drifted up from Harry's arms bringing with it a wave of relief. "Hermione!"

"Ow… Harry?"

"I'm here, Hermione."

"What happened?"

"How much do you remember?"

Hermione's brow furrowed. "You were arguing with You Know Who… and Lestrange? I thought you were about to start fighting and then-" Her face paled at an appalling rate. "Harry, I- I can't remember what he did!"

"Okay, what's the last thing you do remember?"

"He was walking towards me and- and he did something magic… I mean I know it was magic, but… Harry, I don't know!" Hermione collapsed against his chest, huge, heaving sobs wracking her body. Harry could only hold her and rub gentle circles on her back.

When Hermione's sobs subsided, Harry gave her one last squeeze and drew back a little so that he could see her while they talked. "Hermione, Voldemort said that he Memory Charmed you and that he did something to permanently lock your mind at its current level of knowledge."

"He did what?" Hermione gasped out, shaking her head wildly in confusion. "Harry, I couldn't understand a word of what you just said. All I got was that it was about magic of some kind."

Okay, that's worrying. "You can't figure out what a Memory Charm is from the name?"

"I don't know! The words keep slipping away and all I'm left with is 'something to do with magic'!" Hermione shrieked as she started to physically shake from her panic.

"It'll be okay, Hermione," Harry tried. "We're going to go find the others and see if they can help us. This is way out of my depth."

Hermione broke into peals of hysterical laughter that bore no relation to any kind of joy. "Yeah," she managed to gasp out, "that's what I was for."

Harry could only hold her as she rode out this new wave of emotion. This time when her gasping breaths evened out he saw that she had fallen asleep, exhausted by the sheer weight of what she'd been put through. He was just contemplating the best way to move her when he heard running footsteps approaching.

Snatching his wand off the ground, he trained his wand in the direction they were coming from only to lower it again when he recognized the shock of red hair that adorned the first person into the Atrium. "Harry! Hermione! What happened?!" Ron bellowed as he charged towards them, his head whipping from side to side as he looked for danger.

"Pipe down, mate. She's sleeping," Harry admonished.

Ron looked like Harry had just claimed that the Cannons wore pink. "What the devil do you mean 'sleeping'?!"

"Long story; one I'm going to make Voldemort pay for." Harry took advantage of Ron's habitual flinch to look at the group that had gathered behind him. Sirius' absence was like a dagger to his heart, but he shoved the pain down deep. Keep moving. I have to keep moving. "We have to get out of here. Voldemort and Bellatrix have already booked it and we don't want to be found in the middle of this wreckage without an explanation the Ministry is going to believe."

"Right you are, Potter." Moody growled. "Albus gave me this portkey and we're damn well going to use it now." He shook out a length of rope. "Everyone grab on."

Harry wrapped the rope around Hermione, making sure that it was tight enough that he didn't have to worry about leaving her behind, before he took a firm grip on it himself and nodded at Moody.

"That everyone? Good. Then we're going." The old auror tapped the rope with his wand and Harry felt a jerk behind his navel before being dragged along by a particularly insistent gale. For the first time he barely noticed it, too focused on making sure that Hermione was still with them.

Harry's lack of focus on their mode of travel also meant that he was slammed into the ground harder than usual when they landed, with Hermione on top of him, forcing all the air from his lungs and leaving him coughing for breath. Someone was pulling Hermione off of him, but Harry found that he wasn't ready to let go.

"Bloody hell, Harry, we've made it to the Hospital Wing, but if you keep hanging onto Herms like a limpet we're never gonna get her looked at."

"Sorry about that, Ron." Harry wheezed out, reluctantly letting others pick Hermione up. He could see Ron and Remus moving her to one of the beds as he sat up and tried to bring his lungs back to their usual level of functioning. "Are we going to be safe here?"

"Are we going to be safe in Hogwarts?" Tonks echoed. "You ask some barmy questions, you know that?"

"Somewhere Umbridge can do whatever she wants is not someplace I want Hermione to be lying around with all her memories of magic erased."

Tonks opened her mouth to retort, before wilting; even her hair drooped and turned a darker shade of her usual pink. "Okay, that's actually fair," she admitted. "But still, Dumbledore said he was coming along for the ride so he'll be here soon right?"

Harry could only shrug. "No idea, Tonks. I wouldn't be able to offer even a guess of what he's doing." He looked up when Ron plopped down on the floor next to him. His eyes travelled past one best friend to the other. Madam Pomfrey was standing over Hermione's bed, casting spell after spell that Harry hoped would at least prove that Voldemort had been lying about that mind-sealing spell.

I can't offer any help over there; not right now, at least. The others though… "You guys," he began, drawing the attention of the four who had come with him. "I want to just say that I'm unbelievably proud of the way you handled yourselves tonight. None of you need a hospital bed and, with who we were fighting, that counts as a win."

"But we didn't get any of them!" Ginny exclaimed in frustration.

"I dropped the prophecy and broke it!" Neville protested at the same time.

"Neither of those would have been worth your lives. It might have been nice if we could have come away with prisoners and the prophecy, but even if the lot of us weren't in school you staying alive would still be the most important achievement tonight."

"So you do understand that you're just a bunch of kids and that throwing away your life isn't how you win a war?" a deep voice growled behind him.

"That was my fault, Moody," Harry responded, forcing his voice to remain calm. He was sure that if he allowed himself to feel the full weight of the evening he wouldn't be able to keep up this reassuring façade for his friends. "These guys were amazing."

"Damn straight you're the biggest idiot here," Moody seethed. "How many fucking times do I have to tell you not to run out into a firefight when we're risking our necks to save your scrawny arse? Are you that determined to make sure that Black died for nothing?"

Harry was on his feet with his wand digging into Moody's throat before he knew what was going on. Even more surprisingly he seemed to have taken the paranoid old man off guard as well. With conscious effort he wrenched his wand back down to his side and marched off.

"Oi! I'm not done with you yet, brat!"

"Fuck off. I'm not in the mood." The doors to the Hospital Wing slammed behind Harry as if they could feel the rage and grief that were boiling over. He broke into a run, uncaring of where his feet might carry him. After several minutes of running he threw open a door and was hit in the face with a blast of cool air.

The shock caused him to look around and realise that he had emerged onto the top of the Astronomy Tower. For a moment it felt as though he could see all of the starry heavens stretching out overhead and the forest surrounding him below, but then his throat constricted and Harry collapsed against one of the crenelations as the first sobs clawed at his chest.

He slid down with his back against the wall as gusts of wind pushed and pulled at him, until he was sitting on the ground, his head lying on his forearms which rested across his drawn knees. The death of Sirius, what Voldemort had done to Hermione, the fact that he'd almost gotten his friends killed, all of it slammed into Harry at once and he could do nothing more than try to ride out the storm of what seemed like more emotions than he'd ever felt at one time.

Harry lost all track of time as that torrent of emotions ran out of him in an uncontrolled flood. When the sobs finally began to taper off he was left feeling empty and worried that a part of him had been cried out that would never return. That's enough, Potter. Get over yourself, damn it. A pity party isn't going to help Hermione get better and it damn sure isn't going to get Sirius back. The admonition didn't really help.

Would I be able to control these emotions if I were better at Occlumency? Harry snorted in morbid amusement and wiped at his eyes. If I were any good at Occlumency I wouldn't have run into the trap that has me feeling like this in the first place.

He took a shuddering breath and adjusted his glasses. Either way I can't just stay hidden up here. I'd better go and ask Pomfrey if there's anything I can do to help. His head came up as he braced himself to get to his feet and Harry froze.

"Join me for a drink, Harry?"

"Headmaster," Harry greeted tonelessly as he finished getting up and brushing his trousers off.

The old wizard was sitting in a comfortable looking chair with a thick quilt across his lap and a small table with a steaming mug on it beside him. A wave of his wand and another chair with a quilt on it appeared. "Would you like a cup of tea, or perhaps cocoa?"

Somehow this doesn't feel optional. Too wrung out to argue any more Harry simply sat down and draped the quilt over himself. "Were you sitting there long?"

"Not particularly," Dumbledore demurred, shaking his head. "I've been at the Ministry, helping them investigate what dastardly force has so wrecked their building. It was not a brief undertaking by any means."

"I thought they wanted to arrest you?"

"Ah, I'm sure that some of them still do. Cornelius, however, has rescinded the order for now as there is a palpable threat that might reach him."

"So he's just chucking anything he can between him and the problem?"

"An unflattering assessment, but accurate," Dumbledore agreed. "It might also interest you to know that, at this time, the Ministry is taking the stance that the damage was caused by unknown terrorists. One venerable member did mention your name, but Madam Bones was rather quick to point out that you would not be capable of casting Fiendfyre; well, not yet at least."

"So they think it's only a matter of time until I start doing things like that?"

"Not necessarily that you would, but that you will be able to. They think the same of me and I like to consider it a compliment."

"That's a pretty backhanded compliment."

"I'm afraid, Harry, that if you were to wait for genuine compliments from the world at large, you would have to grow older than I am before you heard many."

Harry cocked an eyebrow at hearing that. It was the most cynical thing he'd ever heard out of Dumbledore's mouth. "So we're safe from prosecution until they figure out some other charge to trump up or Voldemort decides to give up. Somehow I don't think you sat around watching me be a pathetic wreck just to tell me that."

"Our emotions do not make us pathetic, Harry," Dumbledore said sadly. "We all endure things that will stay with us for the rest of our lives, things so painful that they never leave us entirely, so that we must learn to walk with that pain."

"Oh yeah?" Harry challenged mulishly.

"Indeed. Many years ago, before even your grandparents were born, my little sister found her death when she ran into a battle between myself, my brother and a third wizard. I have never in over a century found the answer to which of us cast the fatal spell and I do not believe that it matters anymore. Whether I was the one or not, I am culpable of the death of someone it was my duty to protect."

Harry felt embarrassed at hearing something so personal, but he couldn't help but ask "What about your parents?"

Dumbledore canted his head back and looked up at the stars. "My mother had died a few months earlier. My father had been lost to us for years. I was the eldest, the only adult, and so the head of the family." He turned his gaze on Harry. "It is not easy to bear such a burden, I will not lie to you to say that it is, but bear it you must, for no one else can do this for you and it will not leave you of its own accord either."

Harry sat in silence as he contemplated all he had heard. He had always known that Dumbledore was old, but not that he'd lost his parents at a fairly early age, nor the story about his sister.

Dumbledore for his part seemed content to sit there and merely sip his warm beverage without speaking any more. Finally Harry shook himself and turned to the Headmaster. "Alright. What is this really about?"

Dumbledore smiled. "You have become more perceptive, my boy. The story I have come here for though, is long, and the night cold. Are you sure that you wouldn't like a cup of cocoa?"

"Sure." Harry only wanted to get to the point so he could head down and see his friends one more time before going to bed. When the cup appeared he picked it up and took a demonstrative sip.

"Very well, the reason I have come to see you is to do with something you will have discovered during your visit to the Ministry tonight, if the trail of destruction was any indication at all; a prophecy."

"It's gone. Nev dropped it and good riddance." Harry interrupted.

"That copy is gone and good riddance indeed," Dumbledore agreed. "It will keep Tom from discovering the exact contents. However the prophecy itself is not entirely gone. I was the one who heard the original and I would like to share it with you now."

Harry just nodded carefully.

"Dobby, would you bring the item I asked you for?" Dumbledore called out to thin air. The little elf appeared and set the pensieve on the small table in front of them. He bowed deeply at the people he considered to be the two greatest wizards in the world and popped out again before either could thank him. "A marvellous worker, your friend," Dumbledore chortled happily, "and a most refreshing fashion sense."

"I know," Harry agreed, not really in the mood for small talk. "The prophecy?"

"Of course." Dumbledore tapped the rim of the pensieve with his wand. Ripples spread across the mass of memories and a figure rose up from them. Harry recognized his divination teacher without a problem. The figure opened her mouth and began to speak in a deep, rasping voice he'd only heard from her once before.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."

As the words died away and the figure sank back into memory, silence enveloped the two wizards sitting on the tower of the ancient, magical castle. So it's going to be him or me… can't say that's all that surprising with the way he's been going after me.

Except that he let me live tonight. He chose to leave me alive when he could have probably finished me off. He even tried to recruit me. This makes no sense… unless Voldemort doesn't know what the prophecy says… but then why come after a baby?

"I see that something has occurred to you, Harry. Would you care to share?"

"I'm just a little confused on whether or not Voldemort actually knows the prophecy, Headmaster. His actions when he killed my parents suggest that he does, but choosing to leave me alive tonight…" Harry shook his head and trailed off.

"You have grasped that quite well, my boy. Tom, in fact, only knows part of the prophecy; the first two lines to be exact."

"How can you be sure?" Harry demanded.

"Alas, that is not my secret to share," Dumbledore sighed. "I can only ask you to trust me that I have had this verified."

Harry was about to retort that Dumbledore had better get in a sharing mood right away, considering how important this was when the old man cut him off. "Harry, before you demand more disclosure from me, I implore you to consider whether you would wish me to treat your secrets with equal flippancy. If, as I believe you will, you come to the conclusion that you would like me to keep quiet on anything you have told me in confidence then I ask you to extend that courtesy to others as well."

"I'm not asking you to withhold anything that important, am I?" Harry bit out.

"Importance is a matter of perception. To the person I would be betraying, it is a matter of life or death that this secret be kept."

"Fine!" Harry grunted, slumping back into the chair huffily. "So, where do we go from here?"

"I had thought that you might join me for some special classes next year."

"Next year? No offense, Headmaster, but what do you have going on that's more important than figuring out how to stop Voldemort?"

Dumbledore smiled slightly in amusement. "In the summer I usually put in the time I cannot afford during the school year to see to my other duties as Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump."

"Did the Ministry reinstate you to those positions? 'Cause as I recall they kicked you out over the summer."

"Indeed, they have not," Dumbledore agreed, inclining his head. "Still, I would ask you to return home for the summer. I have a reason." The last sentence was added as a warning to Harry, who was already starting to protest. "Years ago, when I took you from the wreckage of your parents' home, I was the one who placed you with your relatives. I did not expect them to be pleasant people for you to live with, but your aunt is your mother's blood relative. That connection allowed me to erect powerful wards at your house that would keep you safe from any magical threats within its walls as long as you call that place home. I grant you, this protection has its limitations, but even the wards of Hogwarts could not match it."

"If that's the only reason then we may need to find a new place for me to stay over the hols," Harry snorted. "I've considered this castle my home since at least the end of first year. You can ask Ron and Hermione if you don't want to believe me; if Hermione can still remember, that is." His own reminder of what had happened to his friend left Harry feeling despondent and he sank back in on himself.

Dumbledore sat stroking his beard with a concentrated frown on his face. "I don't think that there will be a need to involve your friends; I can hear the truth in your words." He shot Harry a slightly pained, sardonic look. "Whatever plans we make will unfortunately include more occlumency lessons for you, I'm afraid, my boy."

"Eurgh. It wouldn't be half as bad if it didn't involve Snape."

"Professor Snape, Harry, and who else could we trust?"

"Seeing as how I don't trust him in the slightest? Anyone."

"Hmm…" Dumbledore seemed to be actually and honestly considering the matter. "I cannot say with any certainty what our best path forward is, given what you have told me today. I still believe that Professor Snape is the one best suited to teach you mind magics, but I will consider whether we have any other options. Regarding your relatives…"

Here, Dumbledore paused and pinched the bridge of his large nose. "We cannot change the past, but I regret not hearing you mention your feelings concerning this castle earlier. As it stands, I will grant you special permission to stay at Hogwarts until a more suitable location can be found. We shall have to hope that an acceptable alternative can be found soon. I cannot, after all, ask the staff to take no time for themselves and the charter mandates that at least one member be present as long as there is a student in the castle." He looked straight at Harry in a way he had not done all year. "Will you grant me a few days to consider the options? We could continue this discussion in a more informed manner at that point."

"Sure, but what am I supposed to do in the meantime? I don't think I can take sitting around and doing nothing while Voldemort takes over the country," Harry argued, adding under his breath, "I've done too much of that already this year."

Dumbledore considered him for a moment. "As of tomorrow I shall grant you access to my office. That will give me time to move my more personal belongings out of sight. You may read any book on the shelves that you can understand under the condition that none of those books leave my office and that you do not take liberties with my belongings beyond those books. Are we agreed?"

"I-… yeah!" Harry agreed, dumbfounded that he would be getting real, tangible help. "Now we really need to get Hermione back on her feet though. There's going to be hell to pay if there are rare books to be read and she's still suffering from those spells."

Dumbledore broke out in a chortling laugh. "Oh my, yes, I imagine that Miss Granger's ire would be something to behold." He turned serious again for a moment. "That does raise another issue. Harry, I feel I must impress upon you that for the time being I am extending this privilege only to you. I ask that you do not invite anyone else, not even Miss Granger, without first consulting me."

Harry groaned. "She's gonna kill me when she gets better, never mind Voldemort."

"I assure you, my boy, those are the moments that make the whole thing more enjoyable," Dumbledore replied, sounding amused once more.

"What whole thing? The war?"

"Oh. Well…" the old headmaster cleared his throat, though it sounded suspiciously like a laugh. "If the answer has not come to you yet, I believe it will in time, Harry. It is not the war though."

Harry was left feeling a bit of a tit, but unsure how to demand answers without making that feeling worse. Screw it. I'm not sitting here to be laughed at. He's told me he'll help me, I'll start checking out his books tomorrow, but for now… "Sir, I'm going to head down to see how Hermione's doing and then I'm going to bed. It's been a long day."

"A wise decision, Harry. I believe I shall stay out here and enjoy the stars for a while longer as I have not done so in far too long. I will see you in the morning, I expect."

"Yes, sir. Goodnight." He only got a slight hum in reply and left before Dumbledore could come up with some other mad thing that would leave him feeling embarrassed and inadequate. Shaking his head to try and dislodge the feeling, Harry made his way down to the Hospital wing, only to be turned away by Madam Pomfrey.

"She's sleeping. It'll do her no good to have you hovering around just so you can feel better."

Chastised, he turned his steps towards Gryffindor Tower. I have to do something nice for Hermione if that's the kind of attitude she's been faced with whenever Ron or I end up in the Hospital.

In the dorm, Harry could tell that Ron and Neville had already gone to bed by the volume they were generating. He quickly changed into his pajamas and dove under the covers, silencing his curtains. Tomorrow I'm going to start making sure that no one can ever hurt my friends again.

AN:

First off, a big thank you to my beta UrsaMinor. She is the groan that makes my muse ask "not funny?"

For those poor, unfortunate souls that have never read an Asterix and Obelix comic, menhirs are large standing stones that were carved mostly during the Bronze Age. They are found all over Europe and particularly in places that were at some point settled by the celts.

Agula is Sinhala for 'lock'. Sinhala is one of the two official languages of Sri Lanka, along with Tamil. Sri Lanka used to be known as Ceylon up until 1972 when it was still part of the British Empire and, in some Medieval Indian folklore that is the place where the yogi Matsyendranath forgot who he was after falling in love with a queen and shacking up with her (I swear, folklore is just plain fun). Anyway, Riddle gets his little spell from Sri Lanka because of that story and still refers to the country as Ceylon because he's frankly probably not up to the new-fangled muggle names for places.

Sudden gusts of wind were long thought to be the work of fairies, especially in Ireland. Winds are also frequently considered messengers or a way to transport people to another world (not only in folk tales, but also in more modern contexts like The Wizard of Oz, Mary Poppins, and we even see some of that in how portkeys work). There will be a lot of references to wind in this fic.

A quick warning, there are going to be a lot of references to mythology, history and general odds and sods in this fic so my author's notes will be a bit longer as I try to give some context to people living in different areas of the world. If you are already familiar with the trivia being referenced, feel free to skip those.

As always: thank you for reading.