Harry had seriously underestimated the amount of time he had to think this last week. He had assumed that the amount of chores Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would, and did, give him would prevent him to think much. However, all the years of doing the same chores over and over again had given him the ability to do them on auto-pilot. Consequently, he had been thinking about a lot of things the past week, including on reflecting who he himself was.
He had read the Daily Prophet the last couple of weeks. He was increasingly referred to as "The Chosen One," as rumours of a prophecy had been making the gossip rounds. Harry supposed it was only natural that the battle at the Department of Mysteries had resulted in him getting yet another stupid title. But it had made him think.
His instinct was to think "I'm just Harry." But the amount of time to think he had, led him to think a follow-up question: "who is Harry?" Remus' advice to not let Voldemort control his future probably had something to do with that. Sure, Harry knew he liked treacle tart and quidditch. However, he had never really thought in depth about the bigger, more important issues. Yes, of course, ever since he found out about the Pureblood ideology, he'd thought it was stupid. However, on the other hand, he had sidestepped the S.P.E.W. even though he had conspired to free Dobby. Had he done that because he wanted to help an abused House Elf or was it just to spite the Malfoys?
As he had been gardening, he had thought about it all. He had privately agreed with Hermione that the House Elf situation was eerily similar to slavery, but hadn't gone public with it. Partly because he hadn't wanted to upset anyone by proclaiming that out loud but also because he didn't want to think about how similar his situation at the Dursleys' was. The more he thought about it all, the more he realized how backward Magical Britain actually was. And most of the fault obviously lay with the Ministry.
Harry very clearly remembered the way previous Minister Fudge had accused Madam Maxime of attacking Crouch, with the only reason being that she was supposedly (but probably) a half-giant. It was the same knee-jerk reaction that had made most of the Hogwarts students believe that Harry was the Heir of Slytherin after they had found he could speak Parseltongue. Not to mention the way Remus couldn't hold a job, wouldn't even have been able to attend Hogwarts if not for Dumbledore, because of laws made by people like Umbridge.
That was another reason why Harry had misgivings with the Ministry. Umbridge had not just been a Ministry employee. She had been Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, a position of major power that Harry assumed required a thorough vetting process. This thought led to two options: either they weren't vetting as thoroughly as Harry assumed they should, which would be a problem, or they did do it and didn't see anything wrong, which was an even bigger issue.
Of course, Harry recognized that his interactions with and knowledge of the Ministry were limited. Even so, they were all negative. The first time he had met Fudge, he had thought the ex-Minister to be a good man: worried for Harry's safety and waving away Harry's violation of The Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry. In retrospect, he realized that the Minister had been afraid of what would happen to himself, to his position if something had happened to Harry.
That whole situation could of course have been prevented, if the Ministry hadn't fucked up the way it did when they allowed Crouch to send Sirius to Azkaban without a trial. Something like that happening in Muggle Britain would be unheard of. The same was kind of true for Crouch Jr, even if Harry felt less aggrieved by that case. Allowing a Dementor to kiss the Death Eater was completely stupid. Even without Voldemort, who in their right mind would pass on the opportunity to question how a prisoner had escaped a supposedly inescapable prison? Especially, considering the fact that Sirius was still "on the run."
Now, lying on his bed on Saturday evening, Harry grimly thought it was lucky that he could do his chores on auto-pilot and had been thinking about the Ministry's shortcomings. This way, he had been at least a bit prepared when, two days ago, he and Dursleys were unhappily surprised by the new Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour
That day, Harry had been cleaning the bathrooms when he heard the doorbell ring. Just a couple of seconds later, he heard the unmistakable bellow of Uncle Vernon. "BOY! COME DOWN HERE!" Considering the Dursleys' apparent strategy to talk to him as little as possible, Harry was curious who had arrived that had forced them to break with it.
His clothes dirty and himself smelling of sweat and cleaning solutions, he made his way downstairs to a very angry Uncle Vernon. Even though the way sweat streamed down his red face could also be due to the heat, Harry knew the source of Uncle Vernon's anger was the man in the suit next to him. Barely standing inside the hall, his mane of hair and stern expression made Harry think of a lion. If not for the fact that Harry had seen this man on the front page of the Daily Prophet, he would not have recognized him as a wizard, let alone as the new Minister of Magic.
Having dealt with Ministers of Magic before, not to mention the fact that the Minister had come to the Dursley's house, obviously 'coincidentally' the one week Harry would be there (he snorted sarcastically at this thought), made Harry wary almost immediately. The fact that Petunia had gone for a shopping spree with Dudley, also meant that he was alone with Vernon. He supposed he ought to give Scrimgeour the benefit of the doubt, but all the reasons why he had issues with the Ministry raced through his head, and he added the suspicion that Scrimgeour had tried to meet him when he was completely alone.
Scrimgeour offered his hand. "Hello, Mr Potter. A pleasure to meet you, I am Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister of Magic."
Harry shook his hand. Vernon's eyes, narrowed in suspicion, flicked between the two of them. He obviously thought Scrimgeour was mad for thinking meeting Harry was a pleasure.
"So boy, they've finally come to take you away? Finally getting the punishment you deserve for blowing up Marge and attacking our Dudley?" he said without even trying to conceal his glee at hopefully seeing his freakish nephew in trouble.
"I'm sorry, Mr Dursley. That's not why I'm here," Scrimgeour said with a frown, "I'm merely here to talk to Harry in private. Harry, why don't we go to the sitting room." The authoritative undertone in Scrimgeour's voice made it quite clear that this was a man that was used to having his orders followed.
Harry didn't see a way to politely decline and he was also kind of curious about the reason why the Minister had come. He also knew he couldn't count on his Uncle to come to his help. Before he could lead the way to the sitting room, however, Uncle Vernon spoke up again. Well, it was more a splutter.
"And why do you think I would allow you to use my sitting room? You can't just barge in here and demand to use my house! The boy has chores to finish!" he said angrily.
Scrimgeour didn't look impressed. He disregarded Vernon and gave Harry a look that said: "Lead the way."
After 14 years of living with the Dursleys, Harry knew better than to ignore his Uncle at this point. He also thought this a perfect opportunity to annoy both his Uncle and to see what kind of man Scrimgeour was. So he merely said: "I'm sorry, sir. It seems my Uncle doesn't want us to use the sitting room, sir."
Scrimgeour looked stunned for a split second but regained his composure almost immediately. "Of course, where are my manners? I must apologize. Would it be possible for me to speak to Harry somewhere privately? Perhaps the sitting room?" he asked the thick-necked man.
Vernon seemed torn between wanting to kick the man out of his house and satisfying his curiosity as to what his freakish nephew had been up to. Harry saw the cogs turning in his head. He already knew what Vernon would choose, the Dursleys may hate everything to do with magic but they were also secretly morbidly curious about the things they hated. Their favourite pastime had always been watching the news and the neighbours, so they could complain to each other. He clearly hoped allowing this conversation to take place would give him more ammunition to torment Harry with.
"All right, but I'm coming with you! I'll have no funny business in this house!"
Scrimgeour completely misread that last statement. "Of course, I understand you want to make sure your nephew is okay, lead the way then."
Vernon's face turned even redder at that statement like he thought the idea that he cared for Harry to be an insult of some sort.
The three of them walked into the sitting room and took place. Harry noted amusedly that his Uncle had conveniently forgotten to offer the Minister anything.
"You know, Harry, I've been wanting to meet you for a long time." Scrimgeour started.
Harry remained silent.
"Yes, even before I became Minister of Magic when I was Head of the Auror Office. Word had reached us that the famous Harry Potter was thinking about becoming an Auror. We were very interested to hear that."
"Oh," Harry said, not sure where the minister was going with this.
"Did you know your father James also wanted to be an Auror? He applied and went through the first rounds of training, but he dropped out before finishing. I've always wondered why, he was very promising."
Harry's ears perked up at this, he hadn't known of course. He assumed that his father had dropped out in order to have more free time to work for the Order. Uncle Vernon assumed otherwise.
"He dropped out, did he? No good, lazy…," he trailed off.
Both Scrimgeour and Harry ignored him, Harry trying hard to remain his composure.
"I didn't know that, sir," he responded. An alarm bell went off in Harry's head. "How did you know that I want to be an Auror?" he asked.
"Dolores Umbridge told me so. As a former Head, I have great connections in the DMLE so I could help you with that ambition. For example, I could set you up with Gawain Robards, the new Head of the Auror Office, or put in a good word."
Harry felt his stomach turn in anger. So Umbridge was still working with the Ministry, was she? Deciding to add that to his growing list of misgivings with the Ministry and ignoring his uncle's mutterings about "corrupt public officials", partly because he didn't want to agree with him, he instead asked: "And what would you have me do in return?"
"Oh, you know. I take it you're aware of the countless rumours going on? We both know how exaggerated these stories can be, whispers about a prophecy, you being "the Chosen One." I expect Dumbledore has talked to you about these rumours."
"I haven't spoken with Dumbledore since these rumours started circulating, sir." This wasn't even a lie. He had indeed not spoken to Dumbledore about the prophecy since the rumours started circulating, but Scrimgeour seemed to suspect he knew more than he was willing to say.
"You didn't talk about these rumours when he brought you here last Sunday?" Scrimgeour inquired slyly.
"How do you know I arrived here on Sunday?" Harry demanded. Was the ministry watching the house? The Minister confirmed this suspicion immediately.
"When I became Minister, one of my first decisions was, of course, to set up a security detail to protect you and your family."
'And to keep tabs on me', Harry thought derisively. "Ah. No, we didn't talk about it," he said out loud.
Scrimgeour kept quite a moment and seemed to study Harry. Harry thought he was deciding whether to switch tactics.
"Well, it of course doesn't matter whether these rumours are true or not," he said, keeping a close eye on Harry, who tried not to twitch or shift as he thought about the prophecy.
Keeping his face carefully blank, he responded: "Why is that, sir?"
"I mean, of course, it's very important to you whether the rumours are true or not. But for the wizarding world as a whole… well appearances matter don't they? It's about what people believe."
Harry was beginning to understand what Scrimgeour really wanted, but he wanted the man to just come out and ask what he wanted to ask of Harry.
As Harry remained silent, the Minister continued: "People believe, people want to believe, that you are the Chosen One. They already think you're a hero – a reputation well deserved if you ask me - " Harry grimaced at what he thought Scrimgeour had meant as a compliment "- You're a symbol of hope, a beacon of light in the darkness. People sleep easier at night if they believe that there is someone out there that will take care of He Who Must Not Be Named. Some people might say it is your duty to be that beacon of light, to stand together with the Ministry of Magic against You Know Who."
Scrimgeour remained silent after that, waiting for Harry to respond. Uncle Vernon looked completely flabbergasted at the idea of Harry as a "beacon of hope."
Harry collected his thought and took a deep breath. He wanted to remain calm. He thought he understood what Scrimgeour really wanted. If the last two years had thought Harry anything, it was how the media worked and how the Ministry uses the Daily Prophet to spin stories the way they want. Obviously, Scrimgeour wanted to portray the message publicly that Harry, and probably in extension, Dumbledore was working with the Ministry.
"You want me to stand together with the Ministry against Voldemort," Harry said, intentionally using the name Voldemort to watch for Scrimgeour's reaction. He didn't flinch, which Harry begrudgingly gave the man respect for. "Wouldn't you say that everyone fighting against Voldemort is on the same side anyway? What more would you have me do?"
"Of course, of course," Scrimgeour was quick to agree, "we're all on the same side here. However, as I said, it would be good for the morale, if you were, for example, seen popping in at the Ministry from time to time. It would assure the people that we are on top of things and we are working together to bring down He Who Must Not Be Named."
"In other words, you would like the people to believe that I'm working with the Ministry. Tell me, Minister,-" Harry said, struggling to keep his composure. Honestly, the nerve! "- wouldn't that also give the impression that I agree with and subscribe to what the Ministry is doing?"
"Well yes, that would be an effect of …"
Harry cut him off. "Then I'm afraid I must decline."
Scrimgeour looked both shocked and sour at this interruption and a declination at that.
"I see. Might I ask why?"
"Certainly." Harry said with a smirk, "You really couldn't have come at a worse time. I have just spent the last four days thinking about all the misgivings I have with your Ministry. Would you like a list? Or perhaps, as I assume you're a busy man, I could summarize it for you." He held out his balled fist, the scarred words "I must not tell lies" white against his now tanned skin.
Scrimgeour remained silent as he stared at the scars.
Harry continued. "Did you honestly think I would ever help an organization that employs people like Umbridge? You see, I've been thinking about it all and I really cannot see how Umbridge got to be 'Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic'" – Harry said in a mocking rendition of Umbridge's voice – "that doesn't involve bribery or a Ministry that is politically very far removed from what I agree with."
They remained silent for a while. Uncle Vernon looked like he wanted to say something, but he seemed to have no idea what to say or do. Harry didn't think the man had ever been farther out his comfort zone. Scrimgeour and Harry's eyes never left each other.
"I see. It was foolish of me to think that you would understand the position we're in. I had hoped you were grown up enough to understand you cannot blame the Ministry for the actions of a handful of people."
Now Harry got angry. "Really?" he said sardonically. "Now I'm too young to understand?"
Scrimgeour sighed deeply. "My apologies, I should not have questioned you in that way. I understand I cannot win this argument at this time. I hope that in the future, the Wizarding World can count on you."
"Don't worry, sir. I'll be around." Harry finished with a smirk. They stood up, and after Scrimgeour had left the house, Harry took a deep breath, turned to Uncle Vernon who was gaping at him, obviously having no idea what had just happened, and said: "If you need me, I'll be cleaning the bathroom."
Still lying on his bed, Harry smirked. He was secretly a bit proud of himself for how he had handled that situation. He had spent the next few days reaffirming his beliefs, which was easy to do, having been provided with a shining example of the status quo.
Another topic he had been thinking about a lot was Dumbledore. The Headmaster had blamed himself for what had happened at the end of last year and Harry hoped that the professor would be more forthcoming with information next year. His trust in the man had taken a hit last year, and he hoped that it would be restored in due time. However, he had also vowed to himself to not just blindly follow anymore. If he had known that Voldemort wanted to lure him to the Ministry, he might have been a little less panicked after seeing the vision of Sirius being tortured. But then again, as Ron had said, they had exhausted every method of verification they had been able to think of.
Harry desperately wanted to prevent another situation like that. He had decided to try to be a bit more proactive and respectfully inform the Headmaster if he disagreed with something, and also to make it clear that Harry's life was his own to lead. Well, kind of his own to lead, at least.
The fight between the Headmaster and Voldemort had also been playing on repeat in his head. Looking back, without the haze of emotions, he was awed at the number of powerful spells being thrown around. If he was prophesied to defeat Voldemort, he still had a lot to learn. He was not even close to being as powerful or as skilled as both men. And honestly, who better to ask to learn from than the man who could go toe-to-toe with Voldemort and had defeated Grindelwald?
Considering that only two out of Harry's five Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher had been competent, he really hoped that this year they would have a good one. He wasn't opposed to continuing the DA, but he hoped it wasn't necessary. However, when he had been cleaning the kitchen yesterday, he realized it might be a good idea to continue it anyway. A war was coming and people really should learn how to defend themselves. Especially, if Malfoy and his cronies would insist that they would fight a miniature version of the war within Hogwarts itself. At the same time, he didn't want anyone thinking they were a match for the Death Eaters. It had become quite clear that they weren't. He wanted to help people defend, but not for them to become soldiers.
Glancing over at his alarm clock he was shocked to see it was two already. His alarm was set for eight, as he needed to get up in time to cook breakfast for the Dursleys and eat before he would leave with Dumbledore.
He closed his eyes and fell asleep while running through the different ideas and plans he had thought up the past week.
-In Her Memory-
Eight hours later, Harry was in the sitting room waiting for the Headmaster. He was very curious about what the professor had planned for that day. He had said they were going to have a busy day that day.
He glanced over at the other couch on which the Dursleys sat. They were obviously incredibly nervous, having to deal with yet another wizard. After Scrimgeour had left, Uncle Vernon had angrily complained about everything to do with magic, while Petunia agreed with him wholeheartedly. Of course, Scrimgeour was doubly awful, being a politician and all. However, adsfDumbledore was a completely different situation altogether.
Harry remembered the Howler he had sent Aunt Petunia last year. There was some kind of history between the two but he had no idea what. It was not something that Petunia remembered fondly, judging by the fact she was quite clearly already half-panicking.
After a few minutes of awkward silence, the doorbell rang. Harry and his uncle stood up at the same time. Vernon narrowed his eyes but said nothing as he made his way to the front door. Harry followed.
Uncle Vernon opened the door and stiffened. Harry realized that the conversation Dumbledore had had with Vernon last week had done nothing to prepare him for someone so clearly magical.
The Headmaster's moustache twitched. "It would be unwise of us to keep standing in this door opening, these are dangerous times after all. Let us pretend, for the sake of hospitality, that you have graciously invited me in."
Without waiting on a response, he swept past Uncle Vernon. "Good morning, Harry. It's good to see you again, how have you been?" he asked Harry when he spotted him in the hall.
"Good morning, professor. I'm fine, how are you?" Harry couldn't help but smile at the surreal situation he was in. He would be lying if he claimed he hadn't been looking forward to seeing the Headmaster and the Dursleys interact.
"Splendid!" he answered as they made their way into the sitting room. Harry couldn't help but think back to the last time he and another wizard had made their way to the sitting room.
On the couch, Dudley was seemingly trying to melt into the cushions. He looked scared. Aunt Petunia's face was blank, but her lip trembled a bit.
As the Headmaster sat down and Vernon came into the sitting room with barely concealed anger, Harry asked: "Aren't we going, sir?"
"Yes, we will leave shortly. However, there is an issue we need to discuss first." He turned his head towards the Dursleys. He pulled up his sleeves a bit and that's when Harry saw it. The Headmaster's right hand was blackened and shrivelled, like the flesh had been burned off.
"Professor – what happened to your - ?" Harry started, but Dumbledore waved him off. "A tale for another time, Harry, please take a seat."
Harry sat down.
"Now," the Headmaster began, "as you undoubtedly know, Harry will become of age next year –"
"No, he doesn't," Aunt Petunia burst out, apparently involuntary as she clapped her hand on her mouth.
"I beg your pardon?" Dumbledore said politely.
"He won't turn eighteen until the year after," she managed to say.
"Ah yes, of course, but you see, in the Magical World, we come of age at seventeen," the Headmaster informed them.
"Ridiculous," Uncle Vernon muttered, but Dumbledore simply continued.
"As you know, the Magical World is in a state of war. Harry continues to be in danger, now even more so than he was when I left him on your doorstep fifteen years ago. With him, I left a letter in which I explained what had happened and in which I proclaimed my hope that you would care for him as if he were your own."
Harry shifted uncomfortably. He also saw Petunia twitch nervously. She was probably thinking the same thing as Harry. He and Dudley couldn't have been treated more differently.
Although the Headmaster had not moved, Harry could feel the temperature in the room drop, as if a Dementor had just appeared.
In a steel voice, Dumbledore continued. "You did not do as I asked of you. You have never treated Harry as a son. He has known nothing but neglect and cruelty at your hands. And I'm afraid that I'm not even aware of the full extent of it. You have used him for your own personal gain, with no regard for his wellbeing. The best that can be said of your treatment of Harry is that he has escaped the appalling damage you have inflicted upon your son."
He remained silent for a beat, while Petunia started to inspect Dudley for signs of this supposed damage. Harry really wanted to ask the Headmaster what he had meant by that, but he was afraid he would start asking questions in return. He really didn't want to think about how his life with the Dursleys was before he knew he was a wizard.
"Nevertheless, and it pains me to say this, but I must insist that you allow Harry to return, once more, to this house next summer. The magic I evoked fifteen years ago means that Harry is protected from forces outside this house…" he was silent for a moment. The 'but not from forces within this house' was loud and clear anyway.
"When Harry turns seventeen, this protection will dissolve. After that, he will be free to never return here if he so chooses. And I imagine he won't," the headmaster finished.
The Dursleys were silent. Uncle Vernon looked like he wanted to defend himself but the Headmaster's cold anger was almost tangible in the air, and even if Uncle Vernon was smart enough to realize that he really couldn't do anything to Dumbledore.
"With that said, Harry, if you've packed?" he asked.
At Harry's nod, they both stood up and made their way into the hall. Dumbledore stopped him before they stopped out, however. "Did you bring that marvellous cloak of yours by chance?"
"Yes sir, I have it in my bag."
"Good. Now, Harry, let us step out and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure." They took two steps outside when the Headmaster held out his arm and Harry side-along apparated for the second time in his life.
- In Her Memory -
They reappeared in a woodland area. Harry saw a small creek in the distance, trees and lots of bushes of holly surrounding a large, unnatural-looking clearing. Harry frowned. Looking a bit closer at the clearing, he thought he saw something glimmer.
He looked up at the Headmaster. "Where are we, sir?"
Dumbledore smiled. "We are at Potter Manor, my dear boy."
Excitement and nervousness flooded Harry. He had been looking forward to going here the entire week, but he had not expected to be brought here immediately.
"er… Where is it? Is it under a Fidelius Charm?" he asked.
The Headmaster chuckled. "No, it is not under a Fidelius Charm, not yet at least." He took out his wand and waved it through the air. "Ah yes, the Manor is warded with a specialized notice-me-not charm. I could dismantle the ward of course but…" he trailed off with a look at Harry. "Let's try something else instead. Can you see anything, Harry?"
Harry took some more steps forward and glanced at the glimmers he had seen before. "Yes, I can see some sort of light? Or a glimmer of some sort?"
"Very good, Harry. I think that you will find that these kinds of charms are easily penetrated by a trained eye, given that they know there is something to look for. Try to focus on the glimmers and let them paint a picture for you."
Harry stared at the clearance. There! A glimmer to the left. Then a glimmer on the top right and a glimmer in the centre, in the grass. As he kept seeing glimmers, he mentally sketched an outline of the building, like a game of connect-the-dots.
As he connected the last two dots, the outline became visible in front of him. Slowly, the dark-brown colour of stone that clearly had not been maintained or cleaned in a while came in, and he got his first look at Potter Manor.
It was large of course, but not stupidly so. Calling it a 'Manor' seemed a bit presumptuous. He thought it was probably about three times the size of the Burrow. The centre looked like it used to be some sort of tower, with a grand entrance. To the left of the tower, he could see a wing that probably held some sort of ballroom, judging from the tall windows on the first floor. The right-wing also had two floors, but the roof was lower. The centre tower stood tall and had three floors.
"From your expression, I concur that you've been able to see past the charmed ward. Very good Harry! I would give you House Point but alas, school is not in session yet," the Headmaster joked.
"Yes, I can see it!" Harry said enthusiastically.
"Great!" Dumbledore smiled, "before we head in, allow me to check whether it is safe to do so." He once again took out his wand and waved it around, murmuring too quick for Harry to follow it.
He waited patiently until the Headmaster was done before he asked: "May I ask what you checked for?"
"Of course, Harry. I checked for any signs of Dark Magic and the presence of magical beings. Both came back negative, which does not mean there won't be surprises anyway. Apart from some small animals, it is deserted. However, as I expected, most of the protective charms and wards have failed due to a lack of maintenance. I think we can head in, but please keep behind me and remain cautious."
Harry nodded his agreement. Together they walked towards the manor. As Harry got closer, he started to feel something. The feeling was hard to describe, it felt something like a pull but not on his body. Maybe on his magic?
"Is there something wrong, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, having noticed Harry had slowed down.
"I'm not sure, sir, I feel some kind of pulling sensation but I can't figure it out."
"Indeed?" the Headmaster said thoughtfully. He waved his wand around, murmuring some more incantation. "Ah yes, nothing to worry about, my boy."
As he started to continue his walk towards the Manor, Harry remembered his vow to ask more questions.
"Sir, could you maybe explain what I don't have to worry about?" he questioned.
The Headmaster turned around once more and his eyes twinkled. "Of course, my apologies. Have you by chance ever heard of Longitudinal Magical Exposure theory?"
As Harry shook his head, Dumbledore continued:" That's okay, you don't take Arithmancy after all. In short, Longitudinal Magical Exposure theory states that the longer magic is active in a place, the more magic will seep into the place itself, granted that place is conducive to magic. This is why Hogwarts Castle is by some, including myself, considered almost a Magical Being. Have you ever wondered why and how the staircases move? Or why sometimes certain shortcuts seem to end in different corridors? The simple answer would be "magic" of course," the headmaster chuckled, "but there is a lot more to that answer than one might think."
Harry looked intrigued. "And that's also the case for Potter Manor?"
"Yes and no," Dumbledore said, "Yes, Potter Manor has been exposed to active magic for centuries. And it has always been surrounded by bushes of holly, which as you know, is a magical conductive material. Where Hogwarts is exposed to a new set of students every 7 years, a new mix of active magic if you will. Potter Manor, however, has been owned by Potters for centuries, so it has mostly known active Potter magic. It may very well be the case that some of what makes one a "Potter" has seeped into the very walls of Potter Manor."
Dumbledore smiled at Harry. "Yes, I would say the fact that the magic is still here and calling out to you after the Manor has been abandoned for almost seventeen years, speaks of the stubbornness and tenacity that can be found in both you, your father, and your grandfather, Harry."
Once again Harry was reminded of how little he actually knew about magic. "So, the pull I felt was the house calling out to me?" Harry thought calling it a house was more apt.
"Yes, and considering it is not calling out to me, it somehow knows whether one is a Potter or not. I suspect the involvement of Blood Magic."
"Blood Magic?" Harry swallowed, "Isn't that Dark Magic, sir?"
"Would you consider the protection at the Dursley's house Dark Magic, Harry?" the Headmaster countered.
Harry had to think about that. The reason he was safe there was because he was a blood relative of Petunia. That must mean that it wasn't Dark Magic right?
"No, because it serves a protective purpose rather than an offensive one," he concluded.
Dumbledore disagreed. "An interesting way to look at it, but not one I necessarily agree with. The way you propose to distinguish is very helpful in almost all cases, but Dark Magic can be used to protect also." He held out his injured hand as an apparent example.
"You were injured by protective Dark Magic?" Harry asked.
"Yes, alas, it seems that in my old age my reflexes are not what they once were," the Headmaster said grimly. "Now, Harry. If I could be so free to give you homework, and I daresay I do feel free to do so, I would ask you to think about what distinguishes the Dark Arts from, by lack of better terms, Light or Grey magic."
Harry agreed readily, he was intrigued by the question.
"This is what I propose we do, Harry," Dumbledore said, startling Harry with the idea that he had a say, "We head into the Manor and try to find the ward stones. If you accept, I will place every protective enchantment and ward I can think of on the Manor. After that has been done and I can say for sure that we're safe, we have some things to discuss."
Harry agreed again, and together they entered Potter Manor.