This Harry Potter story was written for fun. All rights belong to the wonderful lady (JK Rowling) who gave the world Harry Potter to read and enjoy.

Remus and Snape work together to eliminate the nest of rats underneath Hogwarts. Harry, Neville and Justin discuss maths and Arithmancy before going to Professor Lupin for information on the origins of numbers. Miss Tonks asks a very important question in history class that stirs up more trouble than a little old troll.

*(+++++)*

Chapter 23: More HistorySCENE: Remus and Snape Work Together

While Dumbledore spent three days as a mouse in McGonagall's classroom, Professor Snape and Professor Lupin used the poison brewed in the potions lab to destroy the nest of rats living underneath the dungeons. Once the creatures were dead, the elves ventured into the nest and banished the carcasses into the depths of the North Sea.

The few rats to escape the poison became supper for the messenger owls that pounced on them around the greenhouses.

The two wizards agreed on the success of their venture only two days later when the head elf reported there were no rats anywhere in the castle; not a single rat remained.

Snape, who usually had some common sense, left his in a bottle on the shelf in his bathroom that morning because he failed to connect the fact that Ron Weasley still had his pet 'rat' with him at breakfast, lunch, and dinner despite the report by the head elf that the castle was 'rat free'.

Remus Lupin never saw the rat that Ron kept in a pocket of his robes – the rat recognized the werewolf from their years at Hogwarts and decided to hide most of each day inside the boy's robes. The preteen's scent hid the rat's scent so Lupin's sense of smell missed the rat as well.

*(+++++)*

With the rats gone, Remus took time to talk to Severus Snape about 'potions' in the muggle world. They were seated in the staff room waiting for the other professors to appear and discuss the week's successes and problems.

"Snape, you created a potion that was lethal to the rats within seconds of being exposed to it. Was it the liquid that killed them?"

"The poison was lethal to the rodents through the fumes, splashing on their fur, or simply rubbing against the residue it left after it dried," Snape said.

Lupin nodded his head. "That is spectacular!"

Severus sneered, "Why the compliments wolf? What do you need?"

Now, Lupin shook his head. "I need more hours in the day but the dangers of time turners outweigh the benefits of the extra hours."

He glanced around the room, reached for a cup of tea from the tray the elves left on the table and asked, "Have you considered using your talents to create something that could be sold in the regular world? Could you develop versions of the hang-over potion, or headache potion that could be used by non-magical people?"

The werewolf used several important words that would later standout when Severus reviewed the memory but now, he sneered as he asked, "Potions don't work on muggles; they have no magical core, as you well know."

"But if you look at the hang-over potion, once it is brewed, it does not use any magic to provide relief from drinking too much. And the headache potion is the same."

"Why would I want to create versions of these potions for the people without magic? The ministry would not allow me to brew for the muggles."

"There'd be no magic involved in the production of the new cures for common ailments. Your genius in the potion lab is well-documented. It's only natural that you would develop a breakthrough medicine that secured your future."

"Secure?" asked Snape. "How can I be secure from the Dark Lord? Or from Dumbledore?"

Lupin nodded. "I truly believe the Dark Lord is dead and gone. The headmaster is stumbling about and creating distrust among the staff here at Hogwarts. How long until he allows something to happen here that gets an important child injured or killed?"

Severus nodded in agreement. "I believe the deputy headmistress has decided to campaign for removal of the headmaster."

Nodding in agreement, Lupin said, "No doubt it will take her several years. During that time, you could develop your skills with muggle chemistry, examine your potions under their methods, and develop something that works…"

"Dumbledore would claim the potion as belonging to Hogwarts!"

"Your experiments could be restricted to summer and occur off-site…"

"Where?"

"I have contacts with the regular world who are very interested in moving Magical Britain into more modern circumstances."

Severus stared at the werewolf and nodded, "Do you dream of destroying Magical Britain?"

Remus Lupin looked up from his tea, the fear and surprise at the wizard's question easily displayed in his features.

"Good Lord, no!" he assured Severus. "No one wants to violate the Statute of Secrecy and separation of worlds. But Magical Britain has become a liability to the Magical World and to the United Kingdom. Her Majesty demands that Her government make the wizards and witches follow the common laws, raise the standard of living and quality of education, and prevent the next Death Eater Insurrection."

Snape paused hearing the title the muggle government gave to the Dark Lord's war that ended in 1981. He asked quietly, "Is that what they call it at Buckingham Palace?"

"And in MI-5."

Severus reached for a cup of tea. "What is MI-5?"

"Internal security for the kingdom," Lupin replied. "The department started after we began at Hogwarts. They've reached out to the Unspeakables a couple times but there's never been a reply."

"And your role in all this?" snorted Severus. "Spies usually survive by not revealing that they are spies, Lupin."

"Who said I was a spy? I was hired by Dumbledore for three months to be Professor Sprout's muscle in the greenhouse."

The door opened as the other professors filed into the room and Snape hissed, "I'll think on this and we'll speak again later."

Remus nodded but kept his face from showing how pleased he was with the potion professor's reactions.

*(+++++)*

SCENE: Revelations in Maths and Arithmancy

Harry and Justin argued with Neville that Arithmancy was not older than Maths as they waited outside the greenhouse for their practical time with Professor Lupin. Neville found the muggle math books to be fascinating and Hermione spent time with the 'puff showing him how to find patterns in the numbers.

The pureblood wizard asked for more books but kept trying to make all Maths into Arithmancy. That tendency led to a friendly argument outside the greenhouse.

When the wizard opened the door and allowed the boys in, Neville asked, "Professor, which is older – Arithmancy or maths?"

The wizard was surprised that the young man asked a question about something other than herbology so he immediately responded.

"Neither. They were born at the same moment when someone in ancient times began counting and then created 'numbers' to go with their counting.

"Was it the Romans?" asked Neville. "In history class we're learning how the Romans influenced all 'western' magic and Britain."

"No, the Romans were not great with numbers though they helped to separate Arithmancy from Maths. The Romans used very clumsy symbols for numbers."

"That's right," Justin agreed. "They used 'X' for ten, 'V' for five and you had to add 'I' as one to 'V' to make six… It's confusing."

Nodding Remus added, "The numbers we use today are called 'Arabic' numbers but I think they actually originated in India."

"How do you know some much about the world outside of Magical Britain, professor?" asked Neville. "I read lots of history but never saw any of this information."

"I live in the regular world most of the time."

"Do you like living with the muggles?" asked Neville though Harry and Justin both rolled their eyes.

Lupin nodded his head. "But I keep my wand under notice-me-not whenever I am in the muggle world."

Then Harry Potter asked the most important question, "Which world do you prefer, professor?"

Now Lupin paused and gave a very strange answer. "Which world I prefer is not important. Each wizard must get their education here at Hogwarts before they decide which world is better for their particular talents."

Harry studied the man closely and decided he was under a compulsion to make that statement. Lupin noticed the look on the boy's face and winked.

"I am under contract to Hogwarts until after the first of the year," Lupin explained. "Send me a letter then and we can discuss it further."

*(+++++)*

SCENE: Snape and Lupin Discuss Plans

Once the students returned to the castle, Remus remained in the greenhouse to complete harvesting leaves from a curly fern that the seventh-year students would use that afternoon in a potion.

"Lupin," called a voice the werewolf recognized as Severus Snape. The wizard was calling from the doorway to the greenhouse.

"Over here, Snape," Lupin replied. "I have the twenty-four fronds you requested."

Snape walked around the large potted plants to find the werewolf with a large basket holding the fronds from the fern – each stem continued to roll-up and then back out. His potions class began in thirty minutes and the students would use the ferns in the first ten minutes of class.

"Walk with me," Snape said as the two wizards came to the door of the greenhouse. He kept complete control of his voice but he'd examined the conversation with Lupin closely with his occlumency skills and he'd noted the werewolf's use of words that indicated he was living full-time in the 'regular' world – and thriving.

"Who sent you to Hogwarts?"

"Dumbledore invited me without any provocation on my part or the government. My bosses at MI-5 took it as a gift from Hecate to step back into Magical Britain and take the temperature, so-to-speak.

"And what about these clubs you are starting for English and Maths?"

Remus smiled and Severus recognized that the wizard was pleased to explain.

"Her Majesty's government is concerned by the number of muggleborns who return to the regular world without the skills for jobs or to continue their studies at university."

He pointed to himself and said, "I was hired about three years after graduation to work with some problems – we chased down the floundering muggleborn graduates and got them into programs and classes."

"Continue," Snape said.

"We want the kids to continue classes in English, Maths and Science while they are here. These are classes they began in primary school," Remus explained.

"Science?"

"Chemistry is a great deal like potions," the werewolf said.

Snape sneered. "And you need a sponsor for the chemistry club after your departure? Shall I work with the dunderheads additional hours each week?"

Remus grinned, "And so my bosses wanted to offer you the use of a laboratory each holiday, each summer… They will set up a complete potions lab in one hall while there will be a complete chemistry lab in an opposite wing with fully trained muggleborn assistants who will instruct you on the uses of the equipment and processes. The end product will be yours and yours alone."

"And why do I want to do this? Besides helping the muggleborn be better prepared to return to their world when they realize Magical Britain has no place for them?"

"You can be free of the purebloods, of the Dark Lord, and of Dumbledore. If you make – when you make – a breakthrough and create a potion for non-magical people, you would be the mysterious, reclusive inventor holding a very valuable patent," Lupin replied. "The regular government protects patents for the inventors for about seventy-five years."

"And…"

"Any company in the world that wanted to produce your product would have to pay a royalty for each dose of headache and hang-over cure sold. You'd be so rich, Malfoy would divorce his wife and beg you to marry him…"

"Don't be vulgar," Snape said. "Narcissa would poison Lucius and then offer herself to me without a contract. They are not as rich as you think."

*(+++++)*

SCENE: Historical Revelations

While the headmaster was transfigured into a long-whiskered mouse in McGonagall's classroom, his greatest headache in a year filled with spectacular headaches began in Professor's Binns history class. This class was for the seventh-year students from all four houses; smart students knew history was an easy O if you worked from the tests for NEWTs and OWLs from the past five years. This year, the lectures in Professor Binns class proved to be interesting so more and more students attended his lectures when they had free periods.

Early in October, Dora Tonks received a monograph on the Dark Lord 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' as preparation for her examinations next spring to be an Auror. But she could not find any information on the origins of this dark wizard. She considered the scant materials in the library, and she thought about writing to the ministry but feared such an inquiry would only bring her to their attention in negative ways.

Then Dora realized that Professor Binns answered specific questions from students in history class with detailed, complete and accurate information. Potter's owl – Miss Hedwig – had awakened the ghost's extensive knowledge of the past and he'd proven to be well-informed on events in the current century as well.

As class was about to begin, Tonks raised her hand and Professor Binns motioned for her to stand and ask her question – Binns was 'old-school' where each student rose to their feet to ask a question.

"Professor, can you tell me the origins of the Dark Lord everyone calls 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named'?"

"Sit down, Tonks!" shouted a pureblood from Slytherin. Marcus Newsome's family had been followers of the Dark Lord in the war and his father had gone to Azkaban after the arrests and trials ten years before when the Dark Lord was defeated.

"Ten points from Slytherin and two nights detention cleaning toilets, Mr. Newsome," Binns announced forcefully. "This is a class where each side needs to know the true origins of your history – ancient and contemporary!"

"Alright then 'professor', what is the origin of the Dark Lord Voldemort?" asked Newsome with evident cheek in his tone. Most of the students cringed when their classmate said the feared name aloud.

Binns snorted with laughter and the students all stared – the ghost never laughed before.

"Very well, but before I detail the origins of this dark lord, let me summon two of my fellow inhabitants of Hogwarts. With three spirits here in the classroom, you will admit – you must agree – that the story we three will tell you is the truth and cannot be denied by anyone, light or dark."

Just two minutes later, with the Grey Lady and the Bloody Baron floating beside him, the history professor began by declaring, "The self-named Dark Lord Voldemort was given the name of Thomas Marvolo Riddle when he was born. His mother was named Merope Gaunt, the last female from the Slytherin line, a line degraded into squibs."

"So, he is the Heir of Slytherin," Newsome said, feeling vindicated in defending the Dark Lord.

Grinning – a scary look on a ghost at any time – Binns paused for a moment to capture each student's attention before he added, "Yes, he 'was' the Heir of Slytherin but his father was a muggle."

"What?" Newsome asked. "The Dark Lord is pureblood."

"No," stated the Grey Lady, floating forward and speaking clearly. "I remember Tom. He attended Hogwarts in the late 1930s and early 1940s. He excelled in every class and became head boy in his seventh year. But he turned to evil and descended into madness before he died."

"But he can't die! My grandfather said that Voldemort will return! Even Dumbledore hints that the Dark Lord will come back!" Newsome declared for all to hear.

The Grey Lady caught the eye of many students as she disagreed saying, "The Dark Lord Tom Riddle is most sincerely dead! His madness brought about his final, true death and subsequent descent into the hell that awaits the truly evil."

The Bloody Baron floated forward and said, "While attending Hogwarts, Tom chose to follow a path to evil."

"Just because you're a dark wizard doesn't mean you're evil!" declared Newsome, desperate now for some reassurance that his family wasn't damned to hell.

"Agreed," replied Binns, the Grey Lady and Bloody Baron in unison, reinforcing the statements.

Binns continued saying, "Dark does not mean evil. Magic requires both the dark and light in balance to grow and prosper."

"But Tom Riddle chose evil and corrupted many purebloods to his side with promises of dark magic ascending over all other magics," the Bloody Baron stated coldly. "He made his followers into slaves, made them kiss the hem of his robes, made them kill their fellow witches and wizards…"

Now the Grey Lady sneered as she explained, "Tom created his dark lord title from some French words he looked up in a muggle English-to-French dictionary. He was never a true 'lord' of anything except for a team of anarchists creating terror across Magical Britain."

"Voldemort means 'flying from death' or some such nonsense," Binns said. "And he put a jinx on the name to make people stop smiling behind their hands when his followers demanded tribute and surrender."

From there, the class descended into more questions about Tom Riddle, while three students left the classroom to check the trophy hall and reported back on the name and the picture of the handsome boy from fifty years ago.

"My family was destroyed by this mudblood!" Newsome swore.

"Not so!" shouted Tonks and she crossed the aisle to stand beside her Slytherin classmate. "Not by a 'mudblood,' Newsome! Do you believe he fooled your grandparents and the other purebloods at the time? If so, that means they were idiots and fools!"

Newsome's face grew thunderous but Tonks plunged ahead, "We know that 'Tom Riddle' was more powerful than any wizard since Dumbledore and Grindelwald. He must have won the loyalty of the Slytherin purebloods in his year…"

The Bloody Baron floated down beside the two students and he said clearly enough for everyone in the room to hear him, "Tom was handsome and charismatic! I swear he was smarter that Albus Dumbledore at the same age!"

The ghost continued, "He captivated the Slytherin students in his time because he was a parsel-mouth and proved to be the heir of Slytherin in his third year. His fellow Slytherins forgave his origins, hid this information from their parents… and from their children apparently."

"So, the war here in Britain was for nothing?" asked Newsome. "Our families fought and died for nothing?"

"Exactly," agreed Binns. "Wizards killed wizards because they wouldn't agree about dark spells versus light spells."

"Wait… wasn't the war about the muggleborn coming into Magical Britain and taking over?" asked Tonks. "The papers I just read said…"

"No," Binns interrupted the young witch. "The old families from both sides will never allow the muggleborn to gain any power in politics or wealth in Magical Britain. The leaders of the light and the dark want to scare the magicals who work in the factories, the ministry and the shops. Those people must believe that the muggleborn are coming to try and take over Magical Britain."

Silence fell across the classroom.

"Then I don't understand why we bring the muggleborn to Hogwarts. If we're afraid of them…"

"By giving them a bad education, the ministry makes certain that none of the muggleborn can succeed in Magical Britain."

"But we get the same education!" shouted Newsome. "We take the same classes for seven years!"

"Yes, and as a consequence, you'll never rise up and demand the government do better than it does today," the Bloody Baron said.

In the silence that prevailed in the classroom, Binns stated, "Class dismissed."

Dora Tonks sat in her seat in history class for fifteen minutes. She felt sick to her stomach and swore she'd never set foot in the Ministry for Magic again once she completed her NEWTs. She would attend university and learn to be anything rather than an Auror.

Marcus Newsome went immediately to his head-of-house who was keeping office hours. The seventh year Slytherin was hot-headed behind closed doors but usually kept control of his face and temper in public. Today he begged Professor Snape to give him different information – to refute Professor Binns class.

The young wizard would get no such relief.

*(+++++)*

An extraordinary number of owls flew away with messages that evening and several fights broke out within Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Two purebloods from Hufflepuff spent the afternoon pouring over the school attendance records to confirm the attendance of a student named 'Thomas Marvolo Riddle' in a Slytherin the 30's and 40's.

"He was here when Dumbledore taught transfiguration!"

"He went to school with McGonagall and Sprout! They attended class with him! Let's go talk to them!"

After being merciless queried by the 'puffs in the Great Hall at dinner about 'Tom Riddle', Minerva and Pomona put the pieces together and realized that their classmate had become 'Lord Voldemort'.

"This is something that Dumbledore will have to address. Do you think he will return soon?" Pomona asked carefully. She'd heard the rumours of Dumbledore's current location but asked no questions.

During the meal, Severus Snape rose from his seat to approach the Deputy Headmistress and bow his head before whispering, "This news will explode in the Daily Prophet tomorrow. Professor Binns and the other ghosts have tossed a burning ember into an explosive cauldron. Purebloods from both sides will be looking for someone to blame. And if Dumbledore is not there to keep things calm at the ministry, there'll be blood spilt. Please, release him, Minerva."

Minerva growled, her animagus form coming to the fore as she tried to hold her temper. But she nodded in agreement with the request from her fellow professors.

"He knew for years! He must have known that Tom became that monster!" the transfiguration professor fumed.

"That potion expired a long time ago, Minerva," Pomona argued. "Bring Dumbledore back and let him deal with this."

Sighing but nodding in agreement, Minerva muttered as she hurried from the Great Hall to release the headmaster from his form as a mouse. "I hope the purebloods…"

Alastor Moody was waiting at the transfiguration classroom door and before Minerva asked him why he was there, he anticipated her question by drawing his wand and saying, "He'll be angry. Together we can make him back down and listen. Albus can take his anger out on us later but this news from the ghosts has set a dragon loose in the library."

*(+++++)*

SCENE: Return of Headmaster Mouse

Smelling rank after several days trapped in a glass container as a mouse, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, stumbled on the top stair returning to his office. His toe aching from banging on the stair, Dumbledore cursed all witches, all DADA professors, and all ghosts in the world!

'Why does Minerva have to become protective of the students now? Why did Tonks have to ask that question? And why did Binns and the other ghosts have to answer her bloody question so completely?' he asked himself as he ignored the pile of mail on his desk.

Severus would be here shortly with the memory from Mr Newsome so Dumbledore could prepare his responses to the floo calls that would begin later tonight and carry on all tomorrow.

"Elf!" he called and found himself pleased when one popped into his office immediately.

"Yes, Mr Whiskers?"

"There is an emergency and I want… I need these things done immediately."

The elf nodded his head and Dumbledore continued, "Close the owlery for any bird trying to leave. Allow birds to enter but bring all their letters here. Wait, no, only bring me the letters from the Pureblood families."

"Yes, Mr Whiskers."

"And I want a supper tray with hot tea in fifteen minutes, and a large pile of pillows to kneel on in front of the floo. Get your best elf to try and clean these robes once I get undress…," Dumbledore said.

But the elf followed the headmaster's commands too eagerly, snapped his fingers, and left with the robes and undergarments leaving Albus cold and naked in his office, to climb the stairs to his sleeping chamber. Shrieks of outrage from the portraits of the previous headmasters and headmistresses were balanced by the laughter from his familiar. Fawkes laughed so hard, she fell off the perch and rolled around on the carpeted floor.

Cursing elves, portraits, and phoenix familiars as well as ghosts, Albus hurried to shower, paying close attention to his hair and beard. Then he cast spells to dry his body, hair and bears while also applying air freshening charms to his hair, beard and torso. He hurried to dress in formal robes – if he had to speak to the minister or members of the Wizengamot on the floo tonight, he had to look the part of the Chief Warlock and Headmaster of Hogwarts.

*(+++++)*

SCENE: Dumbledore and Snape Discuss History

Albus withdrew his finger from the small pensive he'd been forced to purchase from a craftsman in Diagon Alley. For a painful moment he mourned the loss of the Potter pensive, the Potter magic cloak, and all those glorious books he'd never managed to find time to read.

And he regretted the loss of the memories stored in the pensive; he'd gathered many important memories from other people over the years. In fact, he'd loaded so many memories into the pensive, it could no longer 'project' memories for an audience to view.

The headmaster knew he needed to reassemble as many of the memories as possible, and he'd immediately gone to the shops looking for a new pensive when the castle began repairs. But he'd come away without a new pensive because the price for the full size, projection pensive was outrageous.

This smaller one was crafted for use at Saint Mungo's and in criminal investigations by the DMLE; it allowed a single person to view a single memory. Once he'd viewed the young wizard's memory several times, Albus returned it to the small ampule where it would remain stored.

"Why did Binns call in the Bloody Baron and the Grey Lady do you think?" Snape asked when the headmaster had settled back in his chair after labelling the memory.

"To verify his statements. A single ghost telling a tale such as that could be discounted or even ignored, but three spirits together with the same story cannot be denied by even the strongest, darkest supporter of Tom Riddle."

"Or by the light?" asked Severus and the headmaster reluctantly nodded in agreement.

"And he was a mudblood?" the potions professor asked.

Sighing, Dumbledore nodded. "Technically a half-blood of some sort because his squib mother was a pureblood without magic, but no one will care about technicalities for the next few days."

"The ghosts reported that he is truly dead; do you agree?" the potions master asked with great hope evident in his question.

Now Dumbledore shook his head, "No. The ghosts do not know the measures Tom took to remain alive… to remain connected to the world of the living. Now that the Potter boy is here at Hogwarts, I expect Dark Lord to show up or manifest in some way or another each year until he returns and the boy dies."

"What?" the simple question from the Slytherin spy was filled with surprise and fear. He'd watched the memory and the ghosts had described the Dark Lord as 'sincerely dead' and in hell. Lupin had said the muggle government believed the Dark Lord to have been truly eliminated.

Waving Snape away, Dumbledore said, "I am tired Severus and I expect calls to begin on my floo shortly. Return to Slytherin and try to prevent any more letters from being sent home. We can talk at length tomorrow… or the next day."

Unhappy to be dismissed without consideration for his efforts to secure the headmaster's release or to provide complete information regarding the revelations in the history class, Snape kept his own counsel and left the headmaster's office.

Just as the door behind him closed, Snape heard the whoosh of the floo as the first call began.

*(+++++)*

SCENE: Snape Accepts an Offer

There was a loud knock on the outer door of Remus Lupin's quarters at Hogwarts. The knock repeated every thirty seconds until the sleepy man opened the door. Remus was speechless for a moment to see a pensive Severus Snape standing in the hallway.

"Come in, come in," Remus said and opened the door wider. "Is there anything wrong?"

Snape was silent for a moment before he said, "I assume you can communicate with these MI-5 people."

Remus nodded without comment so Snape continued, "I am interested in their offer. And also, have them get in touch with a young man who graduated last year. Henry Small was in Ravenclaw and he has the talent to be a Potions Master but the purebloods in his house were jealous of his skill."

"Flitwick prevented their attempts to sabotage his work but they complained at home and their fathers forced me to blackball the boy with Saint Mungo's and the potion shops in Diagon Alley."

"I'll approach Flitwick for the names of his parents."

"Good. Henry can be a poster child for the Queen, but I want him available to work with me in the labs next summer."

"Good night then," Lupin said, reopening the door.

"Yes, it is a good night," Severus replied as he hurried through the darkened hallways of Hogwarts.

*(+++++)*

SCENE: Phoenix Ashes

His knees would never recover from spending six hours at the floo overnight. The dark families were in a panic – the idiots – that the light families would massacre them now that Tom's history was known. There was hysteria among the light families – more idiots – who feared this was a ruse by the Dark Lord to cover his return.

'As if Tom could return without me knowing it,' the headmaster mused. 'With great power comes great responsibility… but that doesn't make my knees hurt any less.'

Dumbledore stumbled across his office from the floo to his desk, shoved a pile of letters to the side, and called for an elf.

"You calls, Mr. Whiskers?" asked the elf as soon as it popped into his office. The creature stood on his desk and immediately began arranging the now enormous pile of letters into two neat stacks that balanced perfectly.

"I need a pain potion, please," he asked the elf. The little creature immediately popped away and then back with the small bottle containing a single dose of the pain potion.

"Here Mr Whiskers," the elf said handing over the bottle.

"Go," Dumbledore said without saying 'thank you'. The elf popped away and the headmaster drank the potion that immediately gave him relief from the pain in his knees.

'Should I sleep or use a pepper-up?' he wondered for a moment before deciding to sleep for a time seated in his throne. It had padded sides and feather pillow for his backside.

Sleep took the exhausted wizard quickly and when dawn finally broke, the man was stiff and sore, but managed to stand, stretch and begin his day. Again, he ignored the piles of letters, moving them to the side of his desk near the perch of his sleeping phoenix and making them a single, tall stack of letters.

Then he rose, and began a slow walk to the Great Hall, determined to see and be seen this morning.

'Nothing has changed in Magical Britain,' he assured himself. 'Just because Tom is the offspring of mudbloods doesn't mean he is no longer a threat and I am the only wizard who can deal with him when he returns.'

*(+++++)*

More letters arrived for the headmaster during breakfast and Albus banished each of them to his office without glancing at the addresses. He spent the hour at the staff table making Minerva grovel for turning him into a mouse for three days and irritating Moody with insinuations that the wizard's power was fading – the Auror didn't have Dumbledore's levels of power to begin with.

Severus remained silent throughout the meal and the Healer spoke only to the potions master who never replied. The werewolf was leery and Dumbledore ignored him. None of the children appeared to fear the dark creature and the third-floor corridor was no longer an obstacle course – the Aurors with Amelia Bones dismantled every trick and trap the headmaster had placed there.

He'd put off sending any letter to Nicholas Flammel about the stone at Gringotts. The Daily Prophet picked up on the rumour that the Philosopher's Stone was hidden at Hogwarts better than the firsties had. The older students apparently turned a blind eye to the stories and the youngest students didn't understand the lure of immortality and endless gold.

Another owl chose to land in front of him at that moment, irritating the headmaster once again.

"Be off with you!" he ordered the owl but the creature merely hooted and offered the letter attached to one leg.

"Go away!" he ordered, brandishing his wand. The owl was well-trained in delivery but retained a sense of self-preservation as it flicked its leg, released the letter, and dove away from the table. The bird dropped down between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, to gather speed before it rocketed out of the Great Hall through one of the multiple owl-windows open this time of day.

Harry watched from his seat as the Gringotts owl sped away, safe from any spell the headmaster might throw at it.

"I hope that wasn't one of Hedwig's friends," he told Justin who kept his mouth closed while he wondered about owls having friends… but if they can talk, why can't they have friends?

At the staff table, Minerva began saying, "Headmaster…"

Albus banished the latest letter away to his office and frowning turned to his deputy. Her mouth was set in her usual stern façade and he had no desire to bear her tongue lashing this morning.

"What?" he demanded tersely.

Minerva merely wanted to point out that the owl he'd dismissed, had been a Gringotts owl bearing a message of some importance. The headmaster's unpleasant tone ended any concern she had for him dismissing an important letter.

"Nothing, it's nothing," she said to end their conversation. Then she rose from the table and set about her day. Albus smirked as a cat's tail, ears and whiskers appeared on the transfiguration mistress. She'd know instantly that it was his spell that gave her the characteristics of her animagus form.

'Let her have to deal with a tail, big ears and whiskers for three days and see how she likes it!' he smirked.

The students fell silent as their transfiguration professor paused only one moment before continuing her steps from the Great Hall to her classroom. Rather than feel embarrassed by the headmaster's prank, she'd use it in each of her lessons – partial transfiguration for her sixth- and seventh-year classes, dangers of partial animagus transformation for her fourth- and fifth-year classes, and the possibilities of transfiguration with the youngest three years.

*(+++++)*

High in his office tower, the stack of letters on Dumbledore's desk reached almost five feet high. They were very carefully balanced by magic and normally would not fall over – there were several sealed classrooms in the castle with stacks of fan mail and gifts for the Potter boy that were fifteen or more feet tall and they'd stood for ten years without problems.

But each stack of fan mail for the boy-who-lived was separate from the Gringotts statements and letters that were stacked separately. When these items were ignored for a certain number of days, Gringotts recalled them to be destroyed in dragon fire.

The letter from Gringotts this morning that Dumbledore dismissed was a different type – an invitation to attend a meeting with Ragnock, Chief of the Goblins in Great Britain. The letter contained a port key to bring the headmaster comfortably to Gringotts if he wished but it also included an urgency in the request for the meeting.

When this letter from Gringotts appeared in his office and was added to the top of the stack of letters, the presence of the new letter caused an older Gringotts letter, near the bottom of the pile, to vanish as it was recalled. This older letter was the notification of the claim by Saint Mungo's against Dumbledore's vault to pay for the treatment of Frederick Weasley and George Weasley at the hospital. The first payment due was for over a thousand galleons.

The letter vanished and the headmaster's account was debited the full amount. The next bill would automatically be debited from the account and until Dumbledore received his October statement in early November, he'd have no idea that he'd paid over two thousand galleons to regrow Fred's leg and George's fingers and toes.

More immediately, the vanishing letter at the bottom of the pile upset the neat stack of letters from the minister, many members of the Wizengamot, and personal letters from leaders of most of the dark and light families in Great Britain.

The neat stack began a slow fall away from the headmaster's desk and onto the sleeping phoenix. Ten letters fell to the floor next to the desk while four fell far enough away to land on the other side of the perch. But fifty-three letters, including the invitation to a meeting at Gringotts, landed on the sleeping bird and her stand.

None of the portraits in the office were occupied at the moment so no one heard the squawk of the startled firebird. Her bird's first instinctive reaction to having something 'fall' on her back was to flame away to a safe spot. In the instant that she disappeared, flames consumed all fifty-three letters and left a pile of fine ashes around the perch.

*(+++++)*