Chapter 2: Last Goodbye

I do not own Harry Potter and I am not making any money from writing this whatsoever. The Harry Potter franchise is the property of Warner Brother's and J.K Rowling.

"I thought you would be angry with me," Dumbledore confessed.

"Oh, I am angry with you, sir, but I think it'd be a little bit rude to start screaming and destroying your belongings."

- Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter after the latter learns of the prophecy.

┈ ┈ ┈ ⋞ 〈 ⏣ 〉 ⋟ ┈ ┈ ┈

"Who the blazes is calling at this time of night?"

Harry froze midturn of a page from the book he was reading.

Shit, he'd totally forgotten Dumbledore was picking him up today! The entire summer break so far had been leading up to this. Harry had stopped really caring about his chores or the Dursley's threats. Dudley mostly kept out of his way too, which was nice.

And so feeling both panicky and close to laughter, he clambered over the trunk and wrenched open his bedroom door in time to hear a deep voice say, "Good evening. You must be Mr. Dursley. I daresay Harry has told you we would be coming for him?"

Harry ran down the stairs two at a time, coming to an abrupt halt several steps from the bottom, as long experience had taught him to remain out of arm's reach of his uncle whenever possible. There in the doorway stood a tall, thin man with waist-length silver hair and beard. Halfmoon spectacles were perched on his crooked nose, and he was wearing a long black travelling cloak and a pointed hat. And beside him, dressed in a rather expensive-looking black muggle suit was Sirius!

"He doesn't look the type to be a good listener, anyway, Albus," Sirius said, grinning a little evilly at Uncle Vernon.

"I have to agree with you there, Sirius." Dumbledore concurred.

Vernon Dursley, whose mustache was quite as bushy as Dumbledore's, though black, and who was wearing a puce dressing gown, was staring at the visitors as though he could not believe his tiny eyes.

"Judging by your look of stunned disbelief, Harry did not warn you that we were coming," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "However, let us assume that you have invited me warmly into your house. It is unwise to linger overlong on doorsteps in these troubled times."

He stepped smartly over the threshold and closed the front door behind him. "It is a long time since my last visit," Dumbledore said, peering down his crooked nose at Uncle Vernon. "I must say, your agapanthus are flourishing."

Sirius snickered as Uncle Vernon took a few steps back. His uncle said nothing the entire time. Maybe he had sensed that Dumbledore and Sirius would be particularly hard to bully?

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore said, seeing him on the staircase, "there you are."

He met Sirius' eyes first, and everything seemed to just feel better.

"Now wait just a minute," Uncle Vernon said, finally finding his voice, "I don't mean to be rude, bu-"

"And yet," Dumbledore cut him off smoothly, "sadly, accidental rudeness occurs alarmingly often."

"Yeah," Sirius chimed in, "best to shut your trap sometimes, believe me, mate."

"Now," Dumbledore continued, "we won't bother you long, there's just a simple but important matter to discuss, and then we can take Harry and be on our way." He took out his wand from his robe, and with a wave, glasses of a sparkling amber liquid appeared in front of everyone. Dumbledore walked into the living room and took a seat on the recliner by the fireplace and sighed in content as he sat down.

At that time, Aunt Petunia and Dudley walked in to see who had visited, and the horror on Petunia's face was a look he'd not soon forget.

"Ah, Petunia," Dumbledore said politely. "How good to see you, we've corresponded before."

If, by corresponded, Dumbledore meant sending a howler last summer to keep Harry from being kicked out by the Dursleys, then yes, they had.

"And this must be Dudley," Dumbledore continued, as Harry's cousin in question poked his head out from around the wall connected to the staircase. "As I have just told Vernon, there is something important we must share with you all."

"It's about him, isn't it?" Aunt Petunia said, surprising Harry by finding the courage to speak. "That monster that... that..."

Dumbledore nodded his head sadly. "Yes, Petunia, it is about Lord Voldemort."

A heavy silence filled the room, even Sirius' smirk slipped from his face. He put a hand on Harry's shoulder from beside him where they stood near Dumbledore.

"I've heard of this Voldemort character," Vernon said, still looking cross, "the boy has tried to threaten us with him-"

"I have not!" Harry cried, and Sirius' grip on his shoulder tightened.

"Yes, well," Dumbledore said, "I rather doubt Harry has done that, you see, he was trying to warn you..."

Vernon grunted. "I doubt it, why would that Lord nutter come here?"

"If Voldemort thinks you know anything that could help him get to Harry," Sirius said, "he wouldn't hesitate to torture you. And here's the best part, Dursley, even after giving Harry up - because you would - he'd just kill you anyway. He hates muggles."

"Is that all we are to you people, then?" Vernon spat. "Just worthless sacks of meat for you to poke and prod at your whim?"

"Not to me, no," Sirius replied smoothly, "to me, you're just a coward who abused a young boy for absolutely nothing at all."

"Why you-"

Dumbledore waved his wand, and just as Vernon stood up from the couch, an invisible force made him sit down again. Vernon struggled and struggled, but it was fruitless. His face was turning purple in anger, and though he was shouting and his mouth was moving, no sound came out.

"I believe we've heard enough from you, Vernon," Dumbledore commented idly before looking at Harry's aunt. "Now, Petunia, I will try to get on with what I was trying to say... Lord Voldemort is back, gathering strength in hiding right now while the rest of his followers create chaos all over Britain. The collapse of the Brockdale Bridge? That was no freak accident, I assure you."

Aunt Petunia was white-faced and wide-eyed, but she did not dare speak a word.

"What this all means is, well, you'll have to move," Dumbledore said. "Somewhere on the other side of the country. Perhaps a name change, as well. I doubt Voldemort knows what any of you look like, so you should be fine on that front. I can offer you protection, as well as any comfort your family might need. I can have your house sold today if you'd like."

Uncle Vernon was struggling as hard as ever now, spit was flying from his mouth as he soundlessly shouted.

"I..." Petunia choked out. "Are you quite sure it's necessary for us-"

"Yes," Dumbledore cut her off, "I am. This is for your safety, not ours or Harry's. We benefit nothing from this. Because the truth is, you do not know anything of worth to tell Voldemort in the first place. And though I am extremely disappointed with how you have treated Harry all these years, I'm here offering you this chance regardless."

Petunia was silent for several moments, and even Vernon stopped his soundless tirade to look at his wife. Dudley was staring pointedly at the floor.

The moment stretched, and Harry found his heart beating strangely fast.

But it seemed Petunia could not answer. She shook her head, opened her mouth to speak and-

"I want to leave."

Harry could not help it, his jaw dropped dumbly.

Dudley was looking firmly between Harry and Dumbledore. "If this bloke who killed Harry's parents is back and wants him dead, then I want to get as far away as possible."

Vernon resumed his silent shouting while Petunia's expression mirrored Harry's.

"Dudders," she said, "a-are you sure?"

Dudley nodded and Petunia buried her face in her hands for a few seconds.

"Well," she said slowly, "it would make me feel a bit safer too..."

Vernon was shaking his head violently. Petunia paid him no attention.

"We'll do it," she said finally. "We'll move. Can it really be anywhere?"

"Yes," Dumbledore answered with a small smile. "Anywhere you like, we can arrange."

"I've always wanted to visit Buenos Aires," Petunia admitted slowly.

"I can have you moved in there in three days," Dumbledore responded immediately.

"Alright then," Petunia said after a small pause, "we'll do it."

Harry could hardly believe that this was happening. He knew that he'd be leaving forever this summer, but to know that the Dursleys would also be gone shortly after was a shock.

"Excellent," Dumbledore said, clapping his hands together, "I shall send someone by in a few days then if that works out for you?"

Petunia nodded, and Dumbledore looked at Harry now. "Go and pack, Harry, we'll be leaving soon."

He left in silence, barely registering Vernon's fruitless attempts to get Petunia's attention. Sirius followed him upstairs.

"Figure I'll just wave my wand and we'll be done with things quickly, yeah?" He said.

"What about the trace?" Harry asked as they ascended the stairs, his brow furrowed in confusion. "The ministry might think it's me doing it again."

Sirius grinned cheekily. "Perks of being the chosen one, kiddo, they wouldn't dare expel you now."

Harry felt a small twinge of annoyance at that. He hated the preferential treatment given by the ministry as it was often never without purpose.

Sure enough, as soon as they entered his bedroom, Sirius waved his wand and everything Harry owned started packing itself into his trunk. Admittedly, it wasn't a lot. As it happened, Sirius scowled at the room. Harry knew he likely wanted to turn the Dursleys into goo right now or rant to Harry about how unfair it all was.

But he already knew about all that, and Harry rather wanted to just leave and put it behind him.

A few moments later, and Harry was all packed.

Just as they were about to leave, Aunt Petunia made her way into the doorframe. She ignored Sirius completely.

"I've lived in this house for twenty years..." she said, "and now in a few days, I'll be on a different continent entirely."

Harry was confused, had she changed her mind?

"The protections around this house will be gone once I no longer consider this place home," Harry said plainly, recalling Dumbledore's words from their conversation in his office after the fight at the ministry. "I'm leaving with Sirius tonight. They'll torture you. If they think for a moment you know where I'm going, they'll stop at nothing."

There was a long pause. Petunia just stared into his eyes without saying anything. It was unnerving to Harry, and her gaze was without the normal disdain it usually held whilst regarding him. Her features softened, and she looked almost sad. "You think I don't know what they're capable of?" She said softly. "You didn't just lose a mother that night in Godric's Hollow, you know. I lost a sister."

She left soon after, leaving a stunned Harry to stew on that.

Sirius cleared his throat a few moments later. "C'mon, pup, let's leave this ruddy place."

But the surprises did not end with Petunia. Dudley was waiting for him at the end of the stairs, making shaky eye contact.

"You're leaving for good then?" Dudley asked slowly.

Harry blinked. "Yeah, D, I am. You can finally have your room back, and I'll never have to hear Vernon call me a waste of space again, so, it's a win for both of us."

Dudley looked away towards the wall of the stairs, his mouth moved but no sound came out.

"What?" Harry asked, leaning closer.

"I... I don't think you're a waste of space." Dudley said.

If Petunia's weird little speech shocked him, Harry was absolutely floored by Dudley's admission.

Was this a weird change of heart spell that Harry had never heard of before? It had to be.

Dudley awkwardly extended a hand, which Harry took with a slight amount of hesitation. It was a quick shake, but it only increased Harry's bewilderment tenfold.

Dudley stepped aside as soon as he let go of Harry's hand.

"Good luck, mate." He said.

Harry nodded back, unsure of what to say.

Dumbledore was waiting by the front door now, a smile on his face.

"Are you ready, Harry?"

He took a deep breath and glanced around the house one last time before nodding once more.

"Yeah, I am."

Dumbledore clapped him on the shoulder before bidding the Dursley's farewell.

They were one step outside of the house before Dumbledore suddenly turned around.

"Almost forgot," he said, before reopening the door and waving his wand in the direction of the living room.

At once Vernon's deranged yelling could be heard, even as Dumbledore closed the front door and they made their way onto the street.

"Now, gentlemen," he said, "it's time we visit an old friend of mine."

Harry gulped great lungfuls of cold night air and opened his streaming eyes. He felt as though he had just been forced through a very tight rubber tube. It was a few seconds before he realized that Privet Drive had vanished. He, Sirius and Dumbledore were now standing in what appeared to be a deserted village square, in the center of which stood an old war memorial and a few benches. His comprehension catching up with his senses, Harry realized that he had just Apparated for the first time in his life.

"Are you all right?" Dumbledore asked, looking down at him solicitously. "The sensation does take some getting used to."

"And by that," Sirius added with a chuckle, "he means that you'll never get used to it."

"Of course," Harry choked out. Because why would any form of transportation in this ruddy world be pleasant? "I think I'll stick to brooms."

Sirius let out a laugh that was more like a bark at Harry's words.

Dumbledore merely smiled and drew his travelling cloak a little more tightly around his neck. "This way," he said, taking off at a brisk pace.

They passed by an Inn, a couple of houses and a church before Dumbledore spoke again.

"So tell me, Harry," Dumbledore said. "Your scar... has it been hurting at all?"

Harry raised a hand unconsciously to his forehead and rubbed the lightning-shaped mark.

"No," he said, "and I've been wondering about that. I thought it would be burning all the time now Voldemort's getting so powerful again."

"I've been wondering about that too," Sirius commented.

He glanced up at Dumbledore and saw that he was wearing a satisfied expression.

"I, on the other hand, thought otherwise," Dumbledore said. "Lord Voldemort has finally realized the dangerous access to his thoughts and feelings you have been enjoying. It appears that he is now employing Occlumency against you."

"Well, I'm not complaining," Harry muttered, who missed neither the disturbing dreams nor the startling flashes of insight into Voldemort's mind.

They turned a corner, passing a telephone box and a bus shelter.

Harry looked sideways at Dumbledore again. "Professor?"

"Harry?"

"Er - where exactly are we?"

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore said, "we are in the charming little village of Budleigh Babberton."

"To see a colleague of yours," Harry added.

"Yes," Dumbledore said with a nod, "once again I find myself missing a member of staff, though perhaps missing Dolores Umbridge is too generous a term."

Sirius snorted, "I'll say."

There was still something Harry didn't understand.

"But, sir, why do you need me here for this?"

It wasn't as if Harry actively didn't want to be here, but as his shrunken luggage trunk bounced lightly in the pocket of his hoodie, he couldn't help but yearn to be at Grimmauld Place already.

Dumbledore regarded him with an odd glint in his eye. "I'm sure we'll find a use for you."

"Slughorn was teaching potions while I was at school," Sirius mentioned, "he's good, if prone to droning on about his connections. Useful if you want to make some money and get into good positions though."

Harry nodded. He didn't much care for the last bit, but if Sirius thought he was a good teacher then that was good enough for him. Potions needed a new professor anyway-

"Wait," he suddenly said, eyes wide. Dumbledore and Sirius turned to face him.

"What is it?" Sirius asked with an eyebrow raised.

"If Slughorn's teaching potions... what's Snape teaching?"

"Defence against the Dark Arts, of course," Dumbledore said.

Harry stared at Dumbledore with his mouth agape.

"B-but..."

"I was under the impression that your relationship with Professor Snape was improving," Dumbledore said with a slight frown.

"Well," Harry sputtered, "well, yes, but... seriously?"

Dumbledore smiled. "I have no doubt that Severus will prove to be an excellent teacher in that field."

"He's only bloody wanted it for years," Sirius muttered.

"Yes, well, I am left with little alternative," Dumbledore said. "Left here, gentlemen."

They turned into a street with a bunch of houses that had their lights off. There was a chill in the air that was even present at Privet Drive. Thinking of Dementors, Harry cast a worried look over his shoulder, but nothing was there.

"Why couldn't we just apparate into his house, Professor?" He eventually asked.

"Because that would be quite rude, Harry," Dumbledore admonished lightly, "and at any rate, Horace would certainly have wards in place to prevent such a thing."

"Like at Hogwarts," Harry said, "Hermione says you can't apparate in or out of there."

"And she is quite right," Dumbledore acknowledged.

The clock of the church they had passed a little while ago struck midnight.

"Sir, I read about Fudge being sacked," Harry said.

"That is correct," Dumbledore replied.

"Bout bloody time," Sirius added on. "Scrimgeour is a decent replacement, tough bloke, he is. Was head of the Auror office for a long while."

"He will not underestimate Lord Voldemort either, which is considerably better than Fudge," Dumbledore said plainly.

"Though that's a low bar for you, eh?" Sirius said with a smirk. "No doubt you've read about their disagreement, Harry?"

He did actually. But Harry wasn't sure how to bring it up. However, now that Sirius had done it for him...

"Yes, well, disagreements tend to happen from time to time. It's not unnatural." Dumbledore said, smiling benignly. Only Sirius could get away with needling the older wizard like that, Harry thought. And now he rather didn't want to push his luck.

"Can't really blame you though, Albus," Sirius continued on, "have you seen those leaflets they've been sending out?"

Dumbledore kept his smile. "I have, yes, they were quite an interesting read."

"An understatement," Sirius chuckled.

Harry remembered receiving one as well. Needless to say, it found a new home very quickly in the bin. There was one thing he wasn't quite sure about though.

"On the leaflet, they mentioned Inferi," Harry said, "but they didn't really explain it very well. What are they?"

"They are corpses," Dumbledore said calmly. "Dead bodies that have been bewitched to do a Dark wizard's bidding. Inferi have not been seen for a long time, however, not since Voldemort was last powerful. He killed enough people to make an army of them, of course. This is the place, Harry, just here..."

They were nearing a small, neat stone house set in its own garden. Harry was too busy digesting the horrible idea of Inferi to have much attention left for anything else, but as they reached the front gate, Dumbledore stopped dead and
Harry walked into him.

"Oh dear. Oh dear, dear, dear."

Harry followed his gaze up the carefully tended front path and felt his heart sink. The front door was hanging off its hinges.

Dumbledore glanced up and down the street. It seemed quite deserted.

Sirius was already heading towards the house with his wand out, Dumbledore quickly following behind him.

And even though he had been assured that the Ministry was not likely to expel him for performing magic, Harry still hesitated for just a moment before pulling his wand out and also heading to the front door.

Inside the main hallway, their wands were alight and illuminating the area. There was a door to the left that was open, but Harry's attention was immediately drawn to the sitting room. It looked as if a bomb had gone off. A grandfather clock lay splintered at their feet, a piano was tipped over with its keys scattered everywhere, vases were destroyed on the floors, and couch cushions looked slashed. On the wall directly to the right inside the sitting room, was a dark splatter of what Harry could only assume was blood, still wet.

Dumbledore moved carefully into the middle of the room, scrutinizing the wreckage at his feet. Harry followed, gazing around, half-scared of what he might see hidden behind the wreck of the piano or the overturned sofa, but there was no sign of a body.

"Maybe there was a fight and - and they dragged him off, Professor?" Harry suggested, trying not to imagine how badly wounded a man would have to be to leave those stains spattered halfway up the walls.

"A smart conclusion to come to, and yet, I do not happen to agree," Dumbledore said calmly.

"Albus?" Sirius said questioningly. "You mean he's somewhere still here?"

"I believe so," Dumbledore responded, "observe."

And without warning, Dumbledore swooped, plunging the tip of his wand into the seat of the overstuffed armchair, which yelled, "Ouch!"

"Good evening, Horace," Dumbledore said, straightening up again.

Harry's jaw dropped. Where a split second before there had been an armchair, there now crouched a rather wide, bald, old man who was massaging his lower belly and squinting up at Dumbledore with an aggrieved and watery eye.

"There was no need to stick the wand in that hard," he said gruffly, clambering to his feet. "It hurt."

The wandlight sparkled on his shiny pate, his prominent eyes, his enormous, silver, walruslike mustache, and the highly polished buttons on the maroon velvet jacket he was wearing over a pair of lilac silk pajamas. The top of his head barely reached Dumbledore's chin.

"What gave me away?" The man grunted.

"My dear friend, if the Death Eaters truly had come calling," Dumbledore said with a small smile, "the Dark Mark would be up in the sky."

The wizard clapped a pudgy hand to his vast forehead. "The Dark Mark," he muttered. "Knew there was something... ah well. Wouldn't have had time anyway, I'd only just put the finishing touches to my upholstery when you entered the room."

He heaved a great sigh that made the ends of his mustache flutter.

"Would you like our assistance clearing up?" Dumbledore asked politely.

"Please," the other man said.

The two of them and Sirius then stepped up and waved their wands at the same time in one grand sweeping motion.

At once, the room started putting itself back together. The grandfather clock stood up on its own, the piano flipped itself and all of its keys flew back to it. The blood on the wall found its way back into a crystal bottle that was previously smashed into dust. It was an amazing sight.

It quickly grew loud, however, and Harry covered his ears as the clock started chiming again and the chandelier rammed itself back into place hanging from the ceiling.

"What kind of blood was that on the wall, incidentally?" Dumbledore asked with polite curiousness.

"On the wall? Dragon's." The wizard called Horace answered. "Costs a fortune, as well, it's my last bottle." He picked up the crystal bottle and examined it from where it was sitting on an end table. "A bit dusty," he remarked, before turning back to them. "Oho," he said, his large round eyes flying to Harry's forehead and the lightning-shaped scar it bore. "Oho!"

"This," Dumbledore said, moving forward to make the introduction, "is Harry Potter. Harry, this is an old friend and colleague of mine, Horace Slughorn. And Horace, I'm sure you remember Sirius Black.

Slughorn nodded. "Yes, of course. Cleared of all charges, I've heard, I'm sorry for doubting you all these years."

Sirius bowed his head a little, "you weren't the only one who did."

"Still," Slughorn sighed, "I never could truly believe the boy that had his potions blow up in his own face almost every class would ever do such a thing..."

Sirius nodded awkwardly, and Harry thought that maybe he was unsure how to respond.

Slughorn then turned on Dumbledore, his expression shrewd. "So that's how you thought you'd persuade me, is it? Well, the answer's no, Albus."

He pushed past Harry, his face turned resolutely away with the air of a man trying to resist temptation.

"I suppose we can have a drink, at least?" Dumbledore asked.

"For old time's sake?"

Slughorn hesitated.

"All right then, one drink," he said ungraciously

Dumbledore smiled.

"Well, I think that went quite swimmingly," Dumbledore said cheerfully as they stepped out of the house.

Harry cast the headmaster a confused glance. "But sir, he didn't say yes..."

"Oh, just give it a moment," Dumbledore assured him as the three of them continued to walk.

Sirius snickered.

A few seconds later, and there was a shout from the house.

"Alright, I'll do it! I'll come back and teach!"

They turned to see Slughorn looking breathless standing in the doorway.

"You will come out of retirement?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, yes," Slughorn said impatiently. "I must be mad, but yes."

"Wonderful," Dumbledore said, beaming. "Then, Horace, we shall see you on the first of September."

"Yes, I daresay you will," Slughorn grunted.

As they started walking down the street once more, Slughorn shouted after them again.

"I'll want a pay rise too!"

Dumbledore chuckled.

"Good job in there, Harry," Sirius said, patting him on the back.

"But I didn't do anything..." Harry said.

"Oh yes you did," Dumbledore interjected, "you showed Horace exactly how much he stands to gain by returning to Hogwarts. Did you like him?"

"Er..." Harry wasn't sure whether he liked Slughorn or not. He supposed he had been pleasant in his way, but he had also seemed vain and, whatever he said to the contrary, much too surprised that a Muggle-born should make a good witch.

Sirius laughed. "Don't worry, you're not the only one to be put off by him."

"A friend he is, but I must say he is quite vain," Dumbledore admitted. "Horace likes his comfort you see, the company of the famous, the successful, and the powerful. He enjoys the feeling that he influences these people. He has never wanted to occupy the throne himself; he prefers the backseat - more room to spread out. He used to handpick favourites at Hogwarts, sometimes for their ambition or their brains, sometimes for their charm or their talent, and he had an uncanny knack for choosing those who would go on to become outstanding in their various fields. Horace formed a kind of club of his favourites with himself at the center, making introductions, forging useful contacts."

"My brother was in his group," Sirius mentioned, "a right git he was about it too."

"I do not say this to turn you against him," Dumbledore continued, "but to put you on your guard. He will undoubtedly try to collect you, Harry. You would be the jewel of his collection; 'the Boy Who Lived'... or, as they call you these days, 'the Chosen One.'"

Harry repressed a shudder, suddenly remembering the words of the prophecy from the end of last term. Neither can live while the other survives.

"Don't be afraid of making nice with him though, kiddo," Sirius said. "As crafty as he might be, he still has loads of different connections. Useful connections that could really benefit you."

Harry nodded, not really liking the idea of using his fame to get access to those connections.

"Ah, this should be good," Dumbledore said as they were now back where the church was. "Harry, if you could please grab hold of my arm. Sirius, we'll see you in a moment."

Braced this time, Harry was ready for the Apparition, but still found it unpleasant. When the pressure disappeared and he found himself able to breathe again, he was standing in an empty street in London, staring up at a grand house. Sirius popped in right next to them, smiling cheerfully.

But as Harry walled ahead with Sirius, Dumbledore spoke again.

"If you don't mind, Harry," Dumbledore said. "I'd like a few words with you before we part."

For a moment, Harry thought he'd ask to do it in private, but Dumbledore merely beckoned Sirius back as well, who looked very interested.

"Firstly, I must say how proud I am to see how well you are taking what happened at the Ministry. You fought against Death Eaters with great skill, despite your age, and being possessed by Voldemort is no small thing to shrug off."

Harry felt warm at the praise.

"And now, Harry, on a closely related subject. I gather that you have been taking the Daily Prophet over the last two weeks?"

"Yes," said Harry, and his heart beat a little faster.

"Then you will have seen that there have been not so much leaks as floods concerning your adventure in the Hall of Prophecy?"

"Yes," Harry said again. "And now everyone knows that I'm the one -"

"No, they do not," Dumbledore interrupted. "There are only two people in the whole world who know the full contents of the prophecy made about you and Lord Voldemort, and they are standing on this dark street together. It is true, however, that many have guessed, correctly, that Voldemort sent his Death Eaters to steal a prophecy, and that the prophecy concerned you. However, while I doubt you would have disclosed the exact wording of the prophecy in a letter, but please, do tell your friends. Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley, to be specific. And of course, Sirius. It would not be good for your mental health to keep any of that in you."

"I didn't wan-"

"To worry them?" Dumbledore said with a small, sad smile. "You need your friends, Harry, and I think I would be quite right in saying that they are always worried about you."

Harry nodded and met Sirius' eyes, which were so filled with concern that it was staggering. He felt a rush of affection for his Godfather at that moment.

"On a different, though related, subject, it is my wish that you take private lessons with me this year."

"Private with you?" Harry repeated dumbly.

"Yes. I think it is time that I took a greater hand in your education."

"What will you be teaching me, sir?"

"A great multitude of things," Dumbledore said, "duelling, ward setting, as well as taking a deep dive into Voldemort's past. But we can talk more about all of that once term starts. For now, enjoy the rest of your summer vacation."

Harry wondered if he'd still be taking Occlumency lessons with Snape this year again. He wouldn't mind it, he supposed. There was an odd relationship between them now, one in which Snape didn't constantly bully him in class or otherwise. It was still there, likely to both keep up appearances and because Snape found it fun, but it was much better than it'd ever been before.

Dumbledore was already gone though, disappearing with a soft pop.

"So," Sirius said after a moment, "I guess there's something you wanna tell me?"

And Harry did. He told Sirius the entire prophecy, and about how damn scared he was. By the end of it, Sirius had him engulfed in a tight hug. "You'll be okay, pup." He kept repeating. Who Sirius was trying to convince, himself or Harry, he was not sure.

"Let's get inside, yeah?" Sirius said after a few moments in a wobbly sounding voice.

Harry nodded.

Once inside, he noticed the absence of Mrs. Black's portrait on the wall.

"Had Dumbledore remove it, finally," Sirius said as they walked down the main hall.

The walls were now a muted red colour instead of their sickly gray and green, and the place looked cleaner than it ever had before.

"Sirius," Harry said in amazement, "the house looks great!"

His Godfather flashed him a wide grin. "Figured if this ruddy place is going to stay as headquarters, I might as well make it look liveable."

It was obvious that Sirius' newfound status as a free man was motivating him greatly. As even though he had more than enough time to do this before, he was too depressed to do so.

"Thank Merlin for that," a female voice said from the dining room, "a bloody eyesore, it was."

"Hello Tonks," Harry said to the Auror, whose hair was a sunny yellow and in a bob cut.

"Wotcher, Harry," she greeted in return, eyes glued to a newspaper she was reading.

"Why aren't you asleep?" Sirius asked.

"Just got back from work," Tonks said, "gonna finish my snack before I shower and then turn in."

She was eating a sandwich that looked to have jam and peanut butter in it.

"Remus is here too," Sirius said, sitting down at the table. Harry took the seat next to him. "Sleeping right now, of course. Last night was a full moon."

"He didn't transform here, did he?" Harry asked.

"No, no," Sirius assured, "we took him to the Shrieking Shack."

Harry nodded. That made more sense, at least. "Is anyone else staying here?"

Sirius shook his head. "Just us four, kiddo. 'Course, Order members will pop in and out, and there's a meeting in a few days. But for the most part. it's just going to be me, you, Remus and Tonks."

That was nice, he thought. Harry liked all the members of the Order, but last summer it was far too crowded here.

"Oh, I should mention, the Weasley's have invited you over for the day tomorrow. So after you get your O.W.L. results, we can head there. Hermione and Johnny arrived yesterday per Dumbledore's request, so you'll be able to see them too."

Harry beamed at the news, it had only been a week or two since he'd last seen them, but he missed his friends dearly.

The summer was shaping up to be a fun one.