Harry Potter and the Rising War

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Chapter 1: Dumbledore's Revelation

In his lonely room at number four Privet Drive sat a boy at a desk. The boy looked to be 16; he had shoulder-length jet black hair that framed his well defined face and covered his lightning bolt shaped scar; he had the beginnings of a beard, and he had intensely bright emerald-green eyes. The scar on his forehead was the source of his problems – after, of course, the one who put it there: Voldemort.

When Harry got home from the long (and unusually quiet due to Mad-Eye Moody's warning) drive back from Kings Cross Station, he went straight up to his room and locked himself in there. The mourning process had begun. Just a few weeks ago, Harry's closest link to a family had been taken away from him: Sirius Black was killed. And he blamed himself. Sure, he wasn't the one who had sent the curse at him; he wasn't the one who had lied to get him there – but he had placed himself in danger and Sirius responded to it, which ended in his life being taken away from him.

'Why? Why was I so stupid, Hedwig?' Harry asked, as he placed the owl's cage on top of his wardrobe. As if in reply, Hedwig gave a soft, sad hoot.

'I should have used the mirror! I should have stuck it out with the occlumency lessons. I should have let the Order handle things,' Harry said exasperatedly to himself.

'Sirius died because of my stupidity,' Harry thought to himself as he put his head in his hands and sighed. 'Why me? All I ever wanted was to be normal, but now with this prophecy hanging over my head I'll be even further from it.' Harry sat there lost in thought for what felt like hours, just thinking and drowning in his own self-pity and guilt, until his aunt disrupted him from his thoughts.

'Dinner is ready! If you're not down in two minutes, then we will let Dudley have it,' she said through the door.

'Well, that must mean that I'll have something respectable to eat, if she's threatening that Dudley will have it!' Harry thought to himself as he got up from his bed and went down to the kitchen to have a surprisingly normal-looking portion of food.

Things went on rather the same for Harry for the next few days. He would get up at whatever time he felt like – if he hadn't already been woken from his nightmares or from seeing snippets of what Voldemort was doing – then he would go and take a shower before getting some breakfast. The rest of the day was spent either thinking, or blaming himself for all of the death he had caused and thinking of Sirius. That is, except for every third day, when he would send an owl to the order. On the seventh day, however, his routine was broken as a brown, pompous-looking tawny owl arrived. Harry had no clue as to who it was from, so he carefully untied its note, and examined it for any tampering; looking for what he didn't know, because if it had been magically tampered with, he lacked the experience to judge.

The note seemed okay, so Harry opened it and began to read, but he couldn't get past the opening sentence. His eyes watered and a lump had risen in his throat. The first sentence read:

'Last Will and Testament of Sirius Orion Black.'

Harry couldn't bring himself to read any further. If he did then that would be it: it would all be over with, and Sirius would be gone forever. Harry sat looking at the piece of parchment for hours, but not really seeing it; he was just thinking how unnecessary this was, were it not for his stupidity. He was in such deep thought that he didn't even hear when the door was knocked, or when his uncle shouted at someone, or when Dudley let out a rather loud whimper.

'Ah, I was wondering if you might have any difficulty reading that letter,' said an ancient voice that succeeded in disrupting Harry's chain of thoughts. He whirled around quickly, reaching for his wand from the desk that he was sitting at, to come face to face with the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore. Harry sighed with relief and put his wand away, which Dumbledore chuckled at.

'Professor, what are you doing here?' Harry asked, after getting over the initial shock of seeing the esteemed headmaster in his room, and then getting over the embarrassment when he remembered what had happened at the end of the last school year in the headmaster's office when he lost his temper. (He had been so angry at the old man that he had thrown objects around and broken them; but that wasn't the worse thing: the headmaster had cried over Harry's treatment and burden, which really made him feel even worse later.)

'Well I had a few things to discuss with you, and I wanted to see how you were coping. I was informed of the will being sent out today, and thought it may be a very hard time for you now,' he replied with a sad tone. 'Have you read any of it yet, Harry?' Dumbledore asked him.

'Only the first sentence,' Harry answered honestly. 'If I read any more then it will be final, and I will have to accept that there is no way back, he is truly gone,' Harry said, with tears brimming from his eyes; then he added as an afterthought, 'And it's all my fault.'

'Harry, there is no point in playing the "blame game," as muggles call it. Everyone could have a go and accept equal parts of the blame: me for withholding information from you and ignoring you for a whole year; Professor Snape for discontinuing your Occlumency lessons; Remus Lupin for not stopping Sirius from helping the rescue; your friends for not stopping you – it could go on forever,' Dumbledore said. 'He died for a good cause, for the right cause, and doing the thing he loved: looking out for his godson,' the professor said, finishing barely above a whisper.

Harry sighed. He knew Dumbledore was right, and now it was time to face the facts. He nodded to Dumbledore, who seemed to understand, and smiled back at him – with a smile he had missed since the headmaster had avoided him all last year, a smile that made Harry look to Dumbledore not as a great leader, or a powerful wizard, or even a professor, but as family, like a grandfather. He looked down at the letter and took a deep breath before reading:

'Last Will and Testament of Sirius Orion Black.
'I, Sirius Orion Black, being of sound mind and body, hereby do name Harry James Potter, of the most ancient and noble line of Potter,' (Harry chuckled at this despite the tears,) 'as the heir of the most ancient and noble line of Black. In accordance with Wizarding Law, Harry James Potter will receive full ownership of the Black family vaults when he is of legal wizarding age – excluding vault number 723, whose ownership rights will be received by one Remus J. Lupin. The property at the allotted space in 12 Grimmauld Place, and all contents therein, will be received by one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, to use as he sees fit. The aforementioned Heir of the Black family will also receive all contents held within the storage space within the UK branch of Gringotts Wizarding Bank in Diagon Alley. So it has been Written; so shall it be Done.'

Harry chuckled again after finishing reading the will; trust Sirius to be over-dramatic, even in his death! He scanned the will again before noticing that there was another piece of parchment underneath it. Curious, Harry looked up to Dumbledore to see if this was a common occurrence with wizarding wills, and judging from the twinkle in his eyes Harry guessed that it wasn't. But he had expected something like this, so Harry took the second parchment and began reading it. It was a letter from Sirius.

'Dear Harry,
'If you are reading this letter now, it means two things: I'm dead, and the war is still raging on. And if the war is raging on, then chances are that I died in service with the Order; and knowing you like I do, then you're probably finding a way to blame yourself for my death. But I want you to know that however I died, it was not your fault; and that I died with you in mind, because ultimately I was fighting for you, to take revenge on the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord for the life that they prevented you from having. I can assure you that if I died in a battle, then I died doing what I loved, and that is what truly matters.
'Now enough about death! I think it's far too over-rated. In the words of a great man and an even better friend, 'Death is only the next great adventure.' Now on to the good bits.
'I was planning on giving you this on your seventeenth birthday, but obviously I can't. But inside my private vault you will find a deed to a plot of land. It's yours, or more specifically it belongs to 'the most ancient and noble line of Potters.' That's right, you guessed it, the deed is for where your childhood home was, Godric's Hollow.
'Secondly, I want you to know, even if I never did get the courage to say it to you: I love you, Harry. From the day you were born, I couldn't get enough of you. I was amazed that James and Lily could make something so perfect. I know I haven't been around for long, but even if I didn't know you, all I would need to know is that you are the son of Lily and James Potter to know that you are a great wizard, and an even better person, and also a prankster and rule-breaker at heart.
'This brings me to the next order of business: in the same vault as the deeds, you will find a few books that the Marauders compiled (with some of the more ingenious spells and potions and such, like the animagus transformation). I was hoping to show you myself one day, but it seems time caught up with me.

'To bring this letter to a close, I ask of you two things to honour the dead: the first is to make sure that you live your life, have a little fun, and try and act your age for once. I know it may be a little hard given the circumstances, but try. The second is not to mourn my death, but rather to celebrate my life.
'With much love forever and more,

'Sirius Black.'

After Harry had finished the letter he sat in thought, letting what Sirius told him roll around in his mind. 'Not your fault,' 'don't mourn my death, celebrate my life.' It took the clearing of a throat for Harry to remember that Dumbledore was still in the room. Harry looked to Dumbledore to see him smiling his grandfatherly smile again, with that twinkle in his eyes also. But something else was there too; what was that, was it pride? Was there pride in the old headmaster's eyes for Harry?

'Was it as bad as you thought, Harry?' the old man asked softly.

'No, it actually helped a lot; I don't think there is anything that can be said that will take away all of the guilt – but I do feel ...' Harry began to reply but stopped. He didn't quite know how to put into words how he felt, but he did know he felt better and more accepting of the fact that Sirius wasn't going to be coming back. Dumbledore seemed to understand what he meant, because he simply nodded his understanding.

It was then that Harry realised that the professor had come here to discuss a few things with Harry, and when he mentioned this to the old headmaster he chuckled and replied, 'Ah yes, I do tend to stray off topic every now and then; though I do believe this is the first time I have strayed off topic before I even got onto it!' He smiled at Harry and then began talking once more.

'The first thing I am going to discuss with you may be not only a little embarrassing for you, but also a little shocking, so please just bear with me. It is very important, and a little difficult to understand,' Dumbledore began with amusement written all over his face.

'This can't be good,' Harry thought to himself. 'If Dumbledore is amused by this, then that means it will be VERY embarrassing for me.'

'Okay, professor. So what is it?' Harry prompted when the headmaster wouldn't continue.

'Harry, do you know about sorcerers?' Dumbledore asked.

Whatever Harry had been expecting, this most certainly wasn't it. It didn't seem embarrassing at all, but then again Dumbledore was a strange man, so this could lead to anything.

'No, all I know is that you are one, and so is Voldemort,' Harry replied.

'That's correct – though Voldemort acquired the level of sorcery from transformations, whereas I grew into mine. Answer me please, Harry: have you ever wondered why you seem to be the only one in your year and possibly the year below you who haven't started to mature, to go through puberty?' Dumbledore said.

So this was what he was building up to. 'Well, he was wrong about me being a little embarrassed, ha... I'm COMPLETELY embarrassed!' Harry thought. Obviously Harry was turning red now, because Dumbledore chuckled at him again.

'W-well, I was beginning to w-wonder, b-but... I never had the courage to say anything about it. Ron has asked me a few times, in his own way, but I was too much of a coward. So much for Gryffindor Courage,' Harry stuttered and mumbled whilst looking at the floor, trying to hide his blush. 'Where is this going, anyway?' Harry asked, thinking that he might try to speed things up to get out of this situation fast.

'I will tell you in a moment; but first I would like to point out that I myself did not experience puberty until the age of 16, in fact not until my 16th birthday,' said Dumbledore. Harry was shocked by this announcement, but what shocked him the most was that he seemed to be proud of the fact. Dumbledore waited a few moments then began talking again, but this time it seemed that he was talking more to himself than to Harry.

'Ah yes, 16, that was a good year for me! I had my first bag of lemon drops; of course, back then they tasted more of natural lemon; what I wouldn't give to taste them again! Best lemon drops I've ever had; shame I only got one bag,' Dumbledore was saying. It took Harry three tries of calling his name before bringing the professor back to the present day. 'Oh, very sorry Harry; like I said, I tend to go off subject sometimes,' he chuckled. 'Now where were we?' Dumbledore asked.

'I think you were about to explain what me being so slow to – erm – to – you know,' Harry finished feebly.

'Go through puberty?' Dumbledore asked with the twinkle in his eyes.

'The old coot's enjoying seeing me embarrassed!' Harry thought.

'Yeah, that's it,' Harry answered with more confidence, hoping to stop Dumbledore finding the whole scene amusing.

'Well you see, Harry, as a wizard or witch begins puberty, their magic grows with them, so you could say they have a magical growth spurt. You, however, (and myself when I was your age,) have a higher capacity for magic than most wizard folk. Which means that as you go through the years, the magic growth spurt does not happen, because you have a higher limit for the amount of magic you possess – so your body aims to fill it, which ultimately means your body will not need to change as your magic grows to make more room for the growing magic. Do you understand so far?' Dumbledore asked.

'I think so. So what's happening to me is like what happens if a witch or wizard exhausted too much of their magic, their body has to replenish the magic used?' Harry replied.

Dumbledore smiled and then answered 'Correct, Harry, except you are not replenishing it, but building it up.'

'So I won't go through puberty then? I'll look like a slightly large 11-year-old forever?' Harry asked worriedly.

Dumbledore chuckled again before he answered, 'No, Harry, you will not look like an overgrown 11-year-old for the rest of your life; as you can see, I don't look like an 11-year-old, and Voldemort most certainly does not. Once your limit has been reached, then you will experience puberty; and for some unknown reason the body always aims to fill the required amount of magical room by the 16th birthday, which is very intriguing. You will not grow over time, however, it will only be one night; or more precisely, at 16 years after the moment you were born,' the professor explained.

'So what will happen to me then? Will I look normal?' Harry asked.

'I won't lie to you, Harry. The transformation hurts, a lot; but it is something that you must endure, I'm afraid; there is no stopping it. It lasts for only a couple of hours, but once it is finished you will look however your body needs to, to sustain the amount of magic that you will have. At this time I don't know how much it will be. It could be a little more than you have already, or it could be a lot more; only time will tell,' Dumbledore said.

'But if the magic has been growing inside of me for so long, and by my 16th birthday it will reach its limit, why will it need to change my body if it is already handling that amount of magic?' Harry asked.

'The magic that you have at the moment has a specific use. You see, it takes a great deal of magic to change the body as drastically as it will, and the normal process for this doesn't have enough time or magic at hand to do it this way. Your magic growth speed has been the same as any other wizard or witch your age; except when you get closer to your birthday, the speed in which it grows will increase, which will result in you feeling more energetic. Once you transform, you will have a bigger limit as to the amount of magic to fill and at your disposal. The magic you have in you now, in truth, is what most fully-matured wizards will have when they are around 60,' Dumbledore answered.

'So let me get this straight: I haven't gone through puberty yet because my magic has been holding it back, so that it can model my body to the way it needs when it reaches its limit and knows how much more room it will need; so when I become 16 at the exact second I was born, my body will painfully change to my magic's wish, so it will be able to hold more magic?' Harry asked in a tone that suggested he wanted nothing of the sort to happen.

'That's right, which means that you are a sorcerer, just like me. But I wasn't quite sure at first, which is why I'm telling you this so close to your transformation. Now then, to the next order of business: you will be brought to the Order's headquarters two days before your birthday, which I believe is not much less than a month away. Whilst at Headquarters, with your permission, I have decided to bring you into the Order – if you want to,' said Dumbledore, now grinning back at Harry's silly grin.

'Is this some kind of joke?' Harry asked in amazement. 'Of course I want to!' he exclaimed.

'Excellent!' Dumbledore answered. 'However, I had a hard time convincing Molly Weasley and other members to induct you, and as such I had to tell the Order the contents of the smashed prophecy that was being kept in the Department of Mysteries. They reluctantly agreed, but Molly insists that only you be allowed to join,' Dumbledore said.

'So that means Ron and Hermione aren't allowed to join?' Harry asked, now feeling less elated at the idea. 'Surely they wouldn't like this, and no doubt I won't be allowed to tell them anything,' he thought grimly to himself.

'I'm afraid that is correct, which also means you will not be able to discuss any of the Order business with them, at Molly's request, also,' Dumbledore said sadly. He also obviously knew the reaction that Harry would get from giving them the news.

'Now for the last order of business. Due to you being a sorcerer and all, I would like to offer you the position of apprentice to me. I will teach you all that I know and all that I can. Usually this sort of thing only happens between family members; but I consider you as such, Harry, and I hope that you feel the same,' Dumbledore said, again with the smile. Harry's previous mood from hearing Ron and Hermione were not to be inducted to the Order was lifted at these words. The greatest wizard of modern times, asking if he, a not-quite-16-year-old boy, would be his apprentice; but even more, he was considered family! Harry was positively beaming at this. He couldn't find words to answer Dumbledore; he didn't know what to say to this sort of thing. After all, he had grown up for 11 years without being shown or given any affection or love, minus the one year when he'd had a loving mother, father, and godfather. In answer to Dumbledore, Harry nodded dumbly, but with a huge smile on his face and, once again, tears in his eyes.

Dumbledore, seeing Harry's visage and tears, got the answer he was hoping for, and smiled back, understanding that the boy wouldn't know how to respond to this kind of situation.

'Excellent, you have made an old man very happy, Harry. I ask now that you go to Diagon Alley sometime soon and get some books and other items that take your fancy. I daresay you have enough money for it. The sort of books that I would suggest is anything but conventional magic; for example, books on becoming an Animagus, or books on spell creation and adaptation. Learn as much as you can. Your parents and Sirius gave their lives for you to live, and that cannot be done until Tom Riddle is killed once and for all. Do not let their sacrifices be in vain,' Dumbledore said as he began rooting around in his pockets for something. When he couldn't locate what he was looking for, he began to take things out of them, and some of the things he had in there were downright weird! Out of his right hand pocket he pulled a rubber chicken; from his inside pocket he pulled out a book that was easily the size of a breeze block (that is used in the foundation of muggle homes). This process continued in the same way for several minutes until he shouted an excited 'Aha!' and pulled out a red baseball cap. Upon seeing the confused look on Harry's face, he explained.

'It is one of the Weasley Twins' new inventions for the Order. It disguises the wearer to a set illusion, and this one I believe is of a 30-year-old bald man.'

'And what am I to do with it, sir?' Harry asked, eyeing the hat with suspicion, as anything that came from the Weasley twins was prone to explode, given the correct conditions.

'When you go to Diagon alley, it will disguise you from the public – and more importantly, from any stray Death Eaters that may be wandering around. It also acts as a portkey that will transport you here to your room, if you say "Prongs,"' Dumbledore explained, before rising off the conjured chair that Harry hadn't noticed him conjuring up. He offered the hat to Harry, who tried it on. At first he didn't feel anything, but then he got a familiar feeling: the same one he got when he had the disillusionment charm placed on him, like cold water pouring over him. Once the feeling stopped he glanced in the mirror to see a bald 30-year-old man looking back with thick black-rimmed spectacles on his face. Dumbledore chuckled at Harry's shock.

'Those Weasley twins really are quite gifted, don't you think?' Dumbledore asked as he stood behind Harry. Harry nodded his agreement, and then took the cap off before turning to Dumbledore.

'Thank you for coming to see me today sir, it's helped a lot. I felt lost without Sirius; I thought I had no more family left, but after today I realise I have a grandfather and a replacement godfather too, if Remus will accept the job,' Harry said, though he realised he would have to remember to ask Remus about that.

'It has been my pleasure, Harry, and I'm sure that Remus would be more than happy to accept the job. I am glad I have finally done something right by you,' Dumbledore said.

Harry smiled sheepishly about that. He had yet to apologise for breaking the headmaster's items. 'Professor, about our last meeting: I want to apologise. I was angry, very angry; and I know that you were only doing what you thought was right. I should not have blown up the way I did, especially not at you; after all, you were only guilty of caring too much for me; and there isn't exactly a big queue of people lining up to care about me at all. So I'm sorry, sir,' Harry said, determined to look the headmaster in the eye and prove he meant every word.

Dumbledore smiled fondly at Harry. He truly did consider the boy to be the grandson he never had. He was happy to have ever been able to say he had known Harry James Potter, the most kind-hearted, thoughtful person any one was ever likely to meet. 'Thank you, Harry, but there was no need; I understand fully what you were feeling. After all, I experienced similar things during the war against the dark wizard Grindelwald, though I didn't have a prophecy telling me it had to be me to kill him. But alas, that is a story for another time, and time is something I am running short of, sadly,' the professor said as he headed for the door. 'First, however, I think we should arrange a trip to London for the day after tomorrow with your blood relatives.'

Harry nodded his head and smiled at the headmaster's use of 'blood relatives.' It was obvious he meant that that was all they were good for: providing the protection to Harry; and that his real family were in the wizarding world. 'Lead the way please, Harry,' Dumbledore said, with the twinkle in his eyes as bright as ever.

'Certainly, professor, please follow me. The master of the house will see you now.' Harry's reply gained an amused chuckle from the headmaster.

Once Harry and Dumbledore reached the living room where all of the Dursleys were currently situated, Dumbledore explained to Uncle Vernon how Harry would need to be taken to London the day after tomorrow. Just as uncle Vernon was about to blow his top, Dumbledore turned his attention to the television.

'Oh my, a TalyVishon, remarkable things! Tell me, do you have little house-elves inside it dressed as muggles, acting out?' Dumbledore asked a scared Dudley. Harry suppressed a laugh at the look on Dudley's face when Dumbledore started talking to him, and then when he pronounced television wrong and said 'house-elf.' It was obvious to Harry what Dumbledore was trying to do: he was going to get the Dursleys so angry and scared that they would agree to anything just to get rid of the 'mad old codger,' as they referred to him later on.

'Yes, yes, I'll take the boy to London; I needed to go anyway. Now if you don't mind, please leave!' Uncle Vernon said, as Dumbledore turned his attention onto the silent Aunt Petunia.

'Why thank you, Mister Dursley; that was very kind of you indeed to offer, what a smashing idea.' Dumbledore replied, as if it wasn't his idea in the first place. 'Harry, would you mind showing me out now, please?' Dumbledore asked Harry, as he turned from Aunt Petunia with a smile. Harry found the whole situation hilarious, and how he managed to not fall to the floor laughing was beyond him. He would have to remember it for when he got to the Order's headquarters to tell Ron and Hermione. When he reached the front door and opened it for Dumbledore, a thought occurred to him.

'Erm, Professor, when and with whom will the Order's call come?' Harry asked.

'Very good question, Harry: I should think it will be Remus, and he will come by two days before your birthday so you are present at the next Order meeting; I should think 3 pm will be suitable,' Dumbledore answered.

'Yes, professor, that will be fine. Thank you again for everything,' Harry replied.

'Goodbye, Harry, I shall see you soon,' Dumbledore said after smiling his thanks. He turned around and was in mid-step when he disappeared with a 'pop.'

'Well, today certainly was very eventful!' Harry thought to himself, as he closed the door.

A/N: This chapter has been edited and corrected thanks for the superb literature skills of my new Beta David305 (author link here if it worked) . There will not be any more updates until the chapters have been revised by David but with luck it wont take too long and I have yet to write the next chapter (15). Hope you're enjoying the fic.

Until next time,

                        GG