Disclaimer: Obviously, I didn't write the Harry Potter series. J.K. Rowling is responsible for those masterpieces, and I will always worship her for it. Please don't sue me. I'm already poor and my mom would yell at me.
A/N: Yay! Finals are finally over and I'm home for the summer! Most likely I'll have more time to write as long as my work schedule stays reasonable. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and thank you for being so understanding about the late updates. Now, to answer some questions (as well as I can):
Csferosha—I really like your grenade idea, and your comment about telling Snape to shove it made me laugh. It would be really cool, but I really don't see Harry as personally caring enough about potions (although that's mostly Snape's fault) to pursue researching it—at least during the summer. Thanks for reading and reviewing!
Wiccan Pussykat—I love your reviews; you pay such attention to detail! I'll let you know now that there will be some Harry-torture later on in the story, because it sounds like you're one of those sick people that enjoys that sort of thing…for that matter, so am I! You will find out what Dumbledore's letter said and what Sirius' will says in the near future…can't tell you if Remus will die or not, sorry, don't want to ruin the story by giving too much away. As for Justin, who said his parents make him tell people he goes to St. Brutus' (hint hint)? ;p By the way, I was wondering if you could tell me if probation or house arrest is a form of punishment for breaking the law in Britain as it is in America?
Omagic—Glad I could make you laugh! Your story is coming along great; I always wait with bated breath for your updates.
Hunta—The will is going to come a little later—Harry is trying hard not to think about Sirius' death, and he will have to confront those feelings before he is ready to open the will and accept his loss. Glad to have you reading!
Mooncinder—Don't worry about not reviewing the last chapter; it sucks when you are in the middle of a chapter and find out the end didn't load…grrr, what causes that? Anyway, I'm just happy I haven't scared you off yet!
tansy1354, dweem-angel, psalatino, sarily, LunaLovegood61, and jbfritz, you guys are great! Thanks for taking the time to review!
Chapter 9: Never Let Down
After already incurring the wrath of Aunt Petunia by having an unannounced visitor, Harry had the great pleasure of informing her that Dumbledore would be dropping by soon as well. This news caused her face to flush almost as badly as Uncle Vernon's often had the tendency to. She looked so much like she had taken a gulp of Pepper-Up potion that Harry half expected steam to pour out her ears. It was to his great disappointment that she managed to calm herself, and her face returned to its normal, bitter frown.
"I certainly appreciate you notifying me of this so soon," she clipped.
Before he could come up with some clever retort, Petunia was stomping up the stairs as loudly as her gaudy high-heels could manage. Harry decided to wait for the headmaster's arrival in his room, and had just reached his door when something soft hit the wooden floor next to his feet. Clothes—and by the looks of it, clothes that weren't Dudley's hand-me-downs. He looked up sharply to see Aunt Petunia standing stiff and tall, arms folded and glaring down at him as if daring him to say something ungrateful.
Keeping a suspicious eye on her, Harry slowly leaned down and retrieved a pair of khaki shorts and a navy blue collared shirt off the floor. They both appeared to be accurate fits, but Harry couldn't be sure. He had been living in the Elephant Boy's clothes for nearly fifteen years, after all.
Harry looked back up at his aunt, who was now tapping her foot impatiently. "Uh, thanks?"
Not good enough. Petunia huffed, and rolled her buggy, blood-shot eyes. "I can't say I expected any appreciation from you. You'll wear those when that old—when your headmaster comes to speak with you."
"Okay…but why did you—" Harry started, but she was already gone.
Harry was deeply engrossed in A Good Offense is Your Best Defense: Battling the Dark Arts by the time a gentle knock sounded on the front door. Actually, it had been Dudley lumbering up the stairs with an intensity probably scoring eight points on the Richter scale that alerted Harry to Dumbledore's arrival. He bookmarked his spot at "Barely Forgivables and Their Countercurses" and went down to join the headmaster before his relatives had the chance to insult him.
Dumbledore was standing alone in the living room, squinting at one of the many pictures of Dudley as a child. The headmaster noticed his arrival a moment later, and the fleeting sad look in his eyes was swiftly replaced with false cheer. Part of Harry felt sad that his professor now had to fake happiness; he missed the characteristic twinkle, and hated seeing the man he used to idolize looking so haggard. Obviously, guiding the wizarding world through war for the second time in less than two decades was taking its toll.
"Hello, Harry."
"Hello Professor," Harry replied respectfully.
Dumbledore took a seat on the sofa, and Harry settled into a cozy, plush armchair across from him.
"You are looking much more vigorous than at our last meeting," Dumbledore stated.
Not quite sure what to say to that, Harry nodded slowly and toyed with the hem of his new shirt. It felt very strange to be wearing appropriately sized muggle clothes. They weren't exactly snug, but he had gotten so used to baggy t-shirts and pants…
"I was hoping that we could discuss your future today."
What future? I thought the prophecy had already decided that for me. Oh well, might as well play along. "Sure. Anything in particular?" Harry asked dutifully.
"Perhaps we could begin with your future at Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall tells me you would like to be an Auror someday?"
Harry began fidgeting with his shirt again. "Actually, I think I might have changed my mind on that."
Although he didn't look up to see for sure, he could feel Dumbledore's penetrating gaze on him. A few moments later, the headmaster hesitantly said, "Harry, I hope you have not changed your career path because of…past conflicts with a certain Potions professor. If this is about your O.W.L. score, I assure you I have spoken to Professor Snape—"
"It has nothing to do with Snape, and I'm not about to prove him right by using my fame to get into a class that I'm apparently not qualified for," Harry spat. Dumbledore flinched at his harsh tone, and he immediately felt bad for losing his temper. He silently vowed to stay calm and be more understanding for the rest of the visit. "I'm sorry, Professor. I guess I'm just a little touchy about subjects concerning Professor Snape." Sorry for his outburst or not, Harry was not giving the slimy git anymore than the bare minimum of respect his title called for. "Anyway, he isn't the reason I don't want to be an Auror anymore. I think that if I…" survive to see the prophecy fulfilled… "Erm, what I mean is, when all this stuff with Voldemort is over, I'd like to see what its like to not constantly have my life at stake.
Dumbledore let the Snape comment slide and nodded sympathetically. "Well then, have you thought of any alternatives? You should not be lacking in options with the O.W.L. scores you received, especially with the record you set for Defense Against the Dark Arts," he said, with a small smile.
"I set a record?" Harry gaped.
"Perfect Ordinary Wizarding Level Score with Honors in the Subject of Defense Against the Dark Arts, the first Hogwarts has ever seen," Dumbledore beamed. "I daresay you may want to take your diploma and run once you graduate before I hire you as a professor and lock you into a classroom indefinitely. It would be extremely relieving to have a permanent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I might actually be able to enjoy a summer holiday in Maui if I did not have to spend the time attempting to fill a cursed position."
For the first time that summer, Harry laughed. It felt great to have his name down for something based on merit instead of luck. "Hogwarts Student with Perfect DADA Score" held much more appeal to him than "Boy-Who's-Thick-Head-Vaporized-Voldemort".
Suddenly, Harry remembered the note that had been included with his O.W.L. scores. "Sir, the letter my test results came with said that I could do an apprenticeship or something."
"Ah, yes. That is the standard for students who receive the top O.W.L. score in their year for any subject. Defense Against the Dark Arts is a problematic area for apprenticeships, however, at least at Hogwarts. I am sorry to have to say that I have not been able to find a person both qualified and willing to teach Defense against the Dark Arts for next term, and ministry policy states that the apprenticeship must be under the professor of the subject. However, I had prepared some backup options for you if you would like to hear them."
Harry frowned. How were they even going to have DADA next term if there was no one to teach it? Assuming Dumbledore either didn't know how to answer that question yet or wouldn't tell if he did, Harry only asked what his other choices were.
"Well, you could choose to study independently, as stated in the Ministry letter. That would require you to set your own lesson plan, layout your own goals and select your own books, which will all have to be approved by myself. However, another option you might benefit more from is a mentor-guided independent study. This has all the same requirements of the independent study, except that you would have the aid of another professor or an approved expert in Defense Against the Dark Arts to help you plan and practice."
Harry mentally weighed the pros and cons of each option. Hermione would certainly jump to his aid if he chose the independent study, but he supposed that having an experienced mentor on his side would ultimately teach him more. The question was who would be his mentor?
"If I chose the guided study, who would mentor me?"
The twinkle was back as Dumbledore cheerily answered, "Why, I am glad you asked. One Remus Lupin was quite insistent that he would like to have that role, should you agree to it. I believe he is properly qualified and could most certainly aid in planning your lessons should Miss Granger become too busy with her own schoolwork," he added knowingly.
There really was no question as far as Harry was concerned. He clearly remembered all the classes Remus had taught in his third year, and recalled it as the year he really became interested in DADA. Both his top O.W.L. score and his Patronus he owed to his former professor. He quickly accepted Remus as his mentor for sixth year, and Dumbledore moved onto the next topic.
"Harry, do you and Miss Granger have plans to continue with your Defense Association?"
"Er, I don't know. I guess I haven't really thought about it since term ended. With the independent study, Quidditch, and trying to learn Occlumency, I don't know if I'll have time," he answered warily. By mentioning Quidditch, maybe he could prod Dumbledore into revealing whether his ban had been lifted yet or not.
"Your Defense Against the Dark Arts studies will replace the standard sixth year course, and will take only however much extra time you and Remus plan. As for Quidditch, I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news. Despite my efforts to reverse all of Dolores Umbridge's effects on the school, Minister Fudge has been quite adamant that your ban remain."
Harry's heart sank. Quidditch was the one constant throughout his stressful Hogwarts years that had never failed to take his mind off the wreck that was his life. Until this moment, Harry had held onto a small ray of hope that he would be the Gryffindor seeker again in his sixth year. Harry gritted his teeth to fight the sick feeling in his stomach, and found himself glaring hatefully at the thin scars marring the back of his right hand. Surely wherever Umbridge was now, she was laughing heartily over getting the best of the Boy-Who-Lived. Not only had she left her mark on his body, she had also left her mark on his spirit by taking away one of the few joys left in his life.
He was startled to hear the headmaster speaking again. "Although the Ministry will not revoke the ban on my request, you have the right to file for an appeal on the matter." Harry noticed that Dumbledore, too, was staring at the message carved into his hand. Blushing, Harry shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts. "It is something you may want to discuss with Miss Granger when you see her. It may be a good idea to mention any hardships and misconduct you endured during the time you spent as her student; Minister Fudge might realize that a mere sport is trivial when compared to the possibility of news of scandal within the Ministry finding its way to the press.," hinted Dumbledore darkly.
Was his headmaster actually suggesting Harry blackmail the Minister of Magic? Doesn't sound like a bad idea. Besides, it wasn't as if Fudge didn't have it coming. It was definitely a plan to keep in mind, at any rate…Suddenly Harry couldn't wait for Hermione to get back within reasonable owling distance.
"Now, to discuss the rest of your summer," Dumbledore pressed on. "Remus has informed me that you will be joining him at his newly acquired residence on August second. You should be adequately protected there so long as you abide by the rules Remus sets and you stay within the boundaries of the wards." The headmaster wisely did not attempt to coax Harry into remaining with the Dursleys any longer. "However, for the next few weeks I must insist that you keep all disagreements with your relatives to the bare minimum," he stated, and just as Harry opened his mouth to argue, added, "even though I am sure you rarely start them. The fact is that the wards around Privet Drive are already alarmingly weak, and all it would take is one more argument of last week's caliber to exhaust them completely."
There was little over three weeks remaining until Harry would join Remus in August. With the Dursleys' newfound tolerance of him, he was pretty confident that he could make it through the rest of July without conflict. This reminded him of the letter Dumbledore had Mundungus Fletcher deliver; the letter that had caused a complete turn around in the Dursleys' treatment of him.
"Sir, what was in that letter you wrote to my aunt and uncle? They've been acting very different since they read it," he inquired.
The pained expression was back on Dumbledore's lined face. "That, Harry, is something I would much rather not have you know," he begged.
Harry, however, was not so easily deterred. "Really, sir, I know the Dursleys have never had a high opinion of me. As a matter of fact, I think they have a higher opinion of Jack the Ripper. Could you please just tell me how you got them to act civilly when even Professor Moody's threats didn't work?"
With a resigned sigh, Dumbledore answered. "It is a great travesty that your aunt and uncle never learned to appreciate you. The great mistake on my part was to expect them to be as welcoming and loving as almost any couple would have been to be given guardianship of you after your parents' deaths. Hopefully someday you can forgive me that mistake,"
"We've been over this before, Professor. It's...it's in the past," Harry lied, unable to find any other way to respond. Truthfully he didn't know if he could ever totally forgive his headmaster for assisting in the robbery of his childhood. For now, he would settle for a working relationship and cooperation. "You were saying?"
"Yes, well, my point was that I never expected that we would have to use threats to restrain your relatives. When even that proved useless last week, I was forced to employ my last resort. Where threats failed, I am hoping that rewards will be successful." Dumbledore looked away, apparently finding the Dursleys' floral patterned curtains quite captivating.
Mulling over the vague answer, Harry came to an unpleasant conclusion. "You're paying them off?"
"I suppose that is one way to put it," Dumbledore replied grimly.
For some reason, the idea that it took bribery to make his aunt and uncle treat him like a human being greatly saddened Harry. The thought that his mother's own sister could despise him so much made him feel like a failure even though he knew that he had never done anything to deserve her hatred. It doesn't matter, Harry decided. After this summer, I won't owe them anything and I'll never have to see them again.
Except he would owe them. Well, perhaps not the Dursleys, but as long as Dumbledore was the one paying for his housing and care, he would be in debt.
Reaching a decision, Harry said, "Just tell me how much you offered them and I will pay it."
Dumbledore looked stricken. "Harry, there is no reason whatsoever that you should feel inclined to pay them for finally doing their duties as guardians. I am ashamed that it has gone this far at all; you have no reason to feel that you owe anyone."
"Professor, nothing you say will change my mind. I want to leave this place knowing without a doubt that I have paid all my debts, and I can't do that if you pay them for me."
After a little more arguing, Dumbledore finally caved in to Harry's demands. He assured him that he would tell him the price in August when he left and once again had access to his Gringotts account.
Dumbledore finally prepared to leave. Harry got up from his chair to see him to the door, and as they reached it, the headmaster turned around to face him.
"These may help you decide whether or not to continue the D.A.," he said, handing Harry a stack of letters. Glancing at the top one, Harry saw the name "Ernie MacMillan" on the return address. He looked back up at Dumbledore questioningly.
Dumbledore looked him directly in the eye. "You affect more people than you would ever believe," he said seriously. "Your efforts are greatly appreciated by many, and they guarantee that when the time comes to fulfill the prophecy, you will not be alone." With an awkward pat on the back, the headmaster strode gracefully out of the Dursleys' house. Harry watched him until he was naught but a small blur in the distance, feeling as if the ever-present burden of fate had been slightly lifted.
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia returned to the living room as soon as they were convinced Dumbledore was a safe distance away. Dudley had beaten them downstairs and had left the house to meet up with his "gang" before his mother had the chance to stop him. Harry now sat upstairs by his window with Hedwig perched contentedly on his shoulder as the cool evening breeze caressed his face and tousled his hair.
The stack of letters Dumbledore had given him had contained thank-yous from nearly all of the members of the D.A. Some even expressed enthusiasm for the upcoming year's club and asked what he had planned. Most surprising of all was the letter from Zacharias Smith, unarguably the D.A.'s toughest critic. The letter consisted of a stiff thank-you and even a tiny compliment on Harry's teaching skills.
Harry lowered his head to his hands and grabbed fistfuls of his messy hair. No matter what he did, it seemed that he was fated to forever be in the spotlight. When he returned to school next term, people would expect him to be the same Harry; Quidditch star, mediocre student, Gryffindor to the core. No one, aside from the few friends who battled by his side in the Department of Mysteries, had any clue of his suffering. Not even Ron and Hermione knew of the burden the prophecy saddled him with.
Did he have the strength left in him to be the leader they needed? Harry wasn't so sure. He still couldn't find the strength in him to open that damned will, so how could he possibly put up a believable façade and pretend to the entire school that he was the same old Harry Potter, dependable, headstrong, and brave?
Like it or not, a war was coming. Harry was finally beginning to grasp all that entailed. He was not the only student who would be affected by the war, and he was not the only person who understood loss. What separated him from the rest of his class was that he had the power to prevent some of that loss.
The letters he held in front of him contained nothing but praise. Clueless as the writers were to the happenings of his life, they trusted him and were counting on him to help them. They were all afraid of the war, too; they feared for their families, friends, and their own lives, but they were rising to the challenge and doing what they could to fight back. What kind of person would Harry be were he to refuse to continue the D.A. because he was still reeling from his own losses or too busy with his own studies? His friends were depending on him, and they were in this war too.
He made up his mind. Moving over to his desk, he settled into his uncomfortable wooden chair for a long night of writing replies to the letters. The D.A. would continue. Harry would have to put aside his own troubles and be the person his friends needed him to be.
A/N: Believe it or not, this was a very hard chapter to write. After lots of editing and rewriting, I still don't feel that great about Harry and Dumbledore's conversation. I didn't get around to some of the issues I wanted to mention, but there should be time for it later. Anyway, Harry's not giving up yet, and he's still a fighter despite what he's been through. I'll try to update soon; like I said, I'll have more time for this story now that school's out. Happy readings!