A/N - thank you for the lovely comments, my reviewers! I hope this answers some of your questions!
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In fact it only took Harry an hour of concentration to master teleporting himself and other objects accurately about the castle. It was a matter of visualising his objective clearly and then visualising success. Loola told Harry that the elves were very proud of him, though Harry wasn't too sure why, and added that Harry's visions would probably continue for some time.
"When you is able to feel as an elf does, that is a great gift and a burden, Harry," Loola muttered, patting Harry's leg, "You is always able to find the people that is important in life."
Harry thought it over as he walked up to the Headmasters office, which was his next destination for the day. Personal feelings aside, Snape was important in Harry's life due to his dual role of teacher and spy on their common enemy. Voldemort had shaped Harry's life since before he was born, which explained why the visions were still coming, and maybe why he'd been so bad at Occlumency against both Snape and Voldemort. House Elves couldn't block out the connection they felt to their masters - to their important people - and if Harry was inclined to house elf magic then it looked like he couldn't pick and choose what aspects he utilised.
The Headmaster said much the same thing, though Harry was quick to point out that he still should have tried harder to master the Occlumency. He apologised to the powerful wizard for his behaviour the last time they were together in this office, and accepted a lemon drop when Dumbledore forgave him.
"Headmaster, how did I manage to stumble on house elf magic?" Harry asked when the lemon drop was gone. Dumbledore twinkled at him, and Harry had the feeling that the man understood the real question he was asking.
"Not through any blood ties, Harry," Dumbledore confirmed his suspicion, "Once every thousand years or so, there comes a wizard or witch that is unique enough to master more than one way of thinking. I have noticed over the past five years that you are quite open-minded. Your likes and dislikes are formed through personal experience rather than impersonal prejudice, and you will at least try new things that other witches or wizards would not. What some would regard as ignorance or naivety is actually clarity of thought. Additionally, you don't differentiate between the magical races. Every one that you come in contact with is treated equally until they prove themselves to be unworthy of your regard."
Harry squirmed in embarrassment and made a mental note not to ask questions like that ever again. Dumbledore chuckled at his discomfort and took pity on him, changing the subject.
"The Ministry was unable to detect your use of magic, Harry, and I am pleased to inform you that you are not expelled. House elf magic is undetectable when used in the service of the elf's family. As you were using it on your own behalf it has gone unnoticed."
"Great," Harry relaxed his shoulders; sticking his hands in the pockets of the dressing gown that Madam Pomfrey had given him to walk around in. He'd left the Dursley's in his pyjamas, and it looked like he'd be going back that way too.
"I have taken the liberty of removing your things from the Dursley's Harry, and Hedwig has arrived in the owlrey. I realise that it is still very early in the summer, but I fear that there is no charm to protect you from Voldemort's wrath now. Your rescue of Severus has incensed him to the point of obsession. It is better to remove you to a safer location."
"Not Grimmauld Place," Harry pleaded and Dumbledore shook his head.
"I'm afraid that Headquarters may well have been compromised. No, Harry, you will be staying here for the remainder of the summer. You will have full access to the grounds provided you are indoors by no later than eight in the evening. You may tell your friends that you have left the Dursley's but you must not at any time reveal in writing where you are or what you have done. Should the letter be intercepted…"
"Voldemort would come running," Harry nodded, "I promise."
Summer was looking up. He'd have access to the library, which meant he could read up for next year - contrary to popular belief he loved to learn but hated homework - and with access to the Quidditch pitch…
"Headmaster! Can I have my broom back?" Harry asked eagerly, and whooped with undisguised glee when the powerful wizard nodded in reply.
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When Dumbledore had rescued Harry's things, he'd only taken what was easily seen to be Harry's. This meant that with the exception of the Weasley jumpers, Harry had nothing to wear aside from his school uniform. The clothes his Aunt and Uncle had given him were clearly too large for Harry's slender frame and Dumbledore had left them behind.
Harry wasn't too bothered. He wore the shirt and trousers of his uniform under his student robes, and left it at that. He ate his meals in the kitchens and took large stacks of books and parchment outside, sitting in the place where he'd mourned Sirius to study hard for the coming school year. If there were teachers in the school, Harry didn't come in contact with them, to the point that he'd duck down a side corridor every time he heard footsteps approaching. It was holidays for them too, and the last thing they needed was to be bothered with him.
As the middle of July approached, however, Professor McGonagall deliberately sought him out, waiting in the Gryffindor common room one morning to stop him on his way to breakfast. With school out she had changed her hairstyle, sweeping it back off her face but allowing it to flow unfettered down her back.
"Good morning, Professor," Harry smiled at her, and she raised an eyebrow at him in a friendly fashion.
"Good morning, Mr Potter," she nodded, "I have a request to make of you."
"Have I been in the way? Sorry Professor," Harry apologised worriedly. He had a sneaking suspicion that if he proved to be too much of a burden this holiday that he'd end up in Grimmauld Place, hence the invisible routine.
"Actually Mr Potter, we barely know you're here," she didn't sound too happy about that, to Harry's surprise, "I realise it can't be much fun, stuck here without your friends to talk to."
"Normal summer, then," Harry grinned, "I can't talk to them when I'm with the Dursley's either, and at least here I can get into the library or spend some time on my broom."
"True," her lips twitched in a little smile, "I'm pleased you're putting some effort into your studies. However, there was a reason I sought you out this morning. At this time of year, Professor Snape and I visit the Muggle born first years that have no magic folk nearby to explain about Hogwarts and the magical world. As Professor Snape is still too ill to travel, I was hoping that you would accompany me in his place."
"Erm," Harry gaped at her in astonishment, "You mean go to Muggle houses and explain about magic?"
"Yes," the Professor nodded, "Usually Severus and I Apparate from home to home, and I understand that you are also capable of travelling in a similar fashion. You would merely have to answer a few questions. Any demonstrations of magical ability I will take care of as you are still underage."
"I've only got my school uniform to wear, will that be all right?" Harry watched her frown in puzzlement and hastened to explain, "The Headmaster retrieved my things from the Dursley's, and I guess he didn't realise that Dudley's hand me downs were mine because he left them behind. That's why I'm wearing this."
He waved to the partial uniform he was wearing and the Professor's face cleared in understanding.
"Very well, full uniform will do," she nodded, "I want to leave in an hour. You will meet me in the foyer by the main doors then."
"Ok," Harry replied and hurried back upstairs to change. Today would be very interesting indeed. He'd always wondered how Hermione and Colin Creevey had been introduced to Hogwarts. Hagrid surely wouldn't have come to retrieve them as he had with Harry.
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There were only eight families to visit, and Harry managed the trips by letting the Professor Apparate first and then picturing himself at her side. He arrived neatly each time, and was rewarded with a small smile of approval that made him feel ridiculously happy. Professor McGonagall was not given to undeserved praise or platitudes.
Each family reacted differently. Some of them were frankly disbelieving until McGonagall had turned some item of furniture into a pig or charmed knickknacks to walk around on their own. Harry remained quiet for the most part, answering what few questions he could in polite tones and otherwise letting his teacher handle things.
One or two families were a bit belligerent, but Harry's teacher always talked them into a better mood. She was quite charming on these visits and Harry did his best to match her manners, treating her like a lady and deferring to her preferences. By the end of each visit she had talked them around and made arrangements to meet them in the Leaky Cauldron the next week in order to assist them with the purchase of their school things.
The last visit was to a small farmhouse in the middle of nowhere that reminded him of the Burrow a little. The family's name was Perkins, and Mr and Mrs Perkins were both ruddy complexioned and rough handed, used to working hard in the outdoors for their living. They were quite matter of fact about the letter that had been sent for their oldest son, and very curious about the school and how everything could be managed. Jim Perkins - the potential student - was out with a visiting cousin, and Harry wondered why his parents hadn't kept him in to meet one of his teachers until the kitchen door opened with a loud bang and a boy shouted for his mother from the kitchen.
"Mum! She fell in the pond!"
"Oh dear!" Mrs Perkins muttered, "Sorry about this. She's a bit of a city girl you see, her parents thought she needed a break."
Mrs Perkins jumped up to hurry out when the door opened and Jim entered - a mud splashed annoyed looking blonde boy - followed by a soaking wet Hermione Granger.
"Miss Granger!" Professor McGonagall gasped, "What on earth!"
Before Hermione could do more than jump in surprise, Professor McGonagall had her wand out and had her dried off and cleaned up.
"Professor! What are you doing here? Has something happened?" Hermione didn't seem to notice Harry who was grinning at his rather dishevelled friend from his spot by the window. There had been a lot of mud dripping from her hair and some sort of waterweed draped over one shoulder. That had vanished with McGonagall's spell, but Hermione still looked a little worse for wear.
"I'm here to explain about Hogwarts to Mr and Mrs Perkins. Had I known you were here, I would have instructed them to talk to you," McGonagall replied, "Mr Potter and I are completing the home visits to the Muggle born families today."
"Mr Potter?" Hermione looked around, and Harry stepped forward a bit nervously. He'd sent a long letter to her at the beginning of the holidays, apologising for not listening to her advice, losing his temper and leading her into danger. She'd written back that she forgave him and that had been the last letter they'd exchanged. There had been no reply to his note telling her he'd left the Dursley's for the summer.
"Harry!" Hermione flung herself at him, hugging him tightly, and he hugged her back, rather glad that she didn't seem too upset with him if the strength of her grip was anything to judge by.
"Hullo Hermione," he rubbed her back idly, "How are your hols going?"
"Awful," Hermione sniffed, "Mum and Dad sent me out here to rest and of course I haven't been able to read any of my school books or anything, because Aunt May doesn't know about magic."
"She does now," Harry pointed out, "Your cousin got his letter for Hogwarts. He's starting first year."
"But why are you here?" Hermione stepped back, her hands clutching his arms, sharp eyes taking in the school uniform he wore.
"And why are you wearing a dress? What kind of poxy uniform is that?" Jim's voice spoke up. Harry blushed but laughed and pulled the student robes aside so Jim could see the uniform underneath. He couldn't tell Hermione where he was staying, so he had thought of a fairly decent cover lie that she would spot in an instant but accept until they were together again.
"It's a students robe, and Professor McGonagall took pity on me. There's nothing for me to do where I'm staying right now except read, and she thought that I might be useful today on her visits," he gave his friend a significant look, and was relieved when understanding shone in her eyes and she nodded briskly.
"As for 'poxy'," the old Prefect's tone in Hermione's voice was a welcome one to Harry's ears and a new one to her cousin, "Harry happens to be wearing the colours of Gryffindor House, and there's nothing poxy about them at all!"
"Hermione's a prefect in our year," Harry boasted lightly, rubbing her arm, "And Professor McGonagall is our Head of House."
The words seemed to recall their teacher to the purpose of their visit and she returned to her seat, resuming her interview. Hermione joined Harry by the window silently, and they stood with an arm around each other. He hadn't been able to just stand or sit with Hermione for ages, at school they were too busy and usually during holidays they only had a short amount of time when it was just the three of them. Harry had always counted himself lucky that he could sit with Ron and Hermione in silence and be totally comfortable. Silence at the Dursley's was forced and unnatural. Jim went to sit with his parents, and when the interview was over Harry followed Professor McGonagall out of the house and down the lane until they were out of sight of Hermione and her relatives.
"We've got one more stop, Mr Potter," Professor McGonagall informed him, "Follow me please."
Harry nodded and she popped away. He wondered where else they were going as they'd visited all the people she'd said they were going to see. He reappeared beside his teacher in a quiet corner of Diagon Alley.
"Professor? Why are we here?" he asked curiously.
"The Ministry sends advance notice to the school each year of the students OWL and NEWT results," she informed him, "I thought it might be best to get your school things now. First stop - Gringotts, and then Madame Malkins."
Harry followed in her wake, wondering if he was going to be told what his OWL results were, or if he'd have to wait like the rest of the students. As it was so late in the day, the Alley was half empty, and Harry realised they'd have to be quick if they wanted to get around all of the shops in time. Gringotts didn't take long, with Harry making a hurried withdrawal, though he was rather intrigued at all the faintly written words he noticed all over the bank. It looked like Muggle graffiti artists had gotten in, only he knew that was impossible.
He asked for the usual students robes at Madam Malkins, and then Professor McGonagall got a hold of his arm and made him pick out several sets of Wizarding clothes. Each set consisted of a shirt, trousers, waistcoat and over robes, a bit similar to Mr Weasley's style of clothes, though not in the same colours and plain rather than patterned, and she even had him pick out new school shoes and a pair of boots. Harry had bought a few of the Muggle pieces as well, not wanting to give up the comfort of familiarity. She confiscated all the bags the moment Madam Malkin put them on the counter, and marched him off to the apothecary, followed by Flourish and Blotts. Harry bought himself a few extra books in there while his Professor secured his schoolbooks. They had a rather heated argument over who would carry the bags, and in the end Harry pulled her into a protected corner of the store and sent the lot to sit on his bed in the Gryffindor dorm.
He replenished his stores of parchment, ink and quills and made a short stop for treats for Hedwig before following his teacher back to place where they'd arrived and watching her Apparate back to Hogsmede before following her home.
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Harry was not so delighted to see that he'd passed all the OWLs he needed with the right marks to continue in the classes to become an Auror. The not so delight came from the knowledge that he'd be stuck with Snape for at least another two years, and given that the man now had a target painted on his back after being caught by the Death Eaters, the next two years were not looking too bright. Snape's temper had already been foul - it was sure to be worse now.
After his stint at the home visits and surprise shopping trip, Harry hadn't seen anyone until the next Saturday, when McGonagall asked him to help with the trip to Diagon Alley. The Muggles were to make their own way to the Leaky Cauldron, which they'd been given the address of with the understanding that their children would have to actually get them in. Harry had worn a set of new robes for the occasion, much to McGonagall's approval, and had enjoyed watching the Muggles and their children experience the magical world together for the first time. He envied these kids a bit for their family's acceptance of them, but made sure not to let on to anyone. He didn't want pity, and wasn't looking for attention.
The trip went off without a hitch, though a second visit would be needed for the book lists, which weren't out yet, and Harry planned to once more retreat to his routine of study and flying breaks. He had managed to find a very useful book that listed in great detail various potions ingredients, their properties and common reactions and uses. Ravenclaw and Slytherin were the main borrowers of this book and Harry had sent Hedwig to Flourish and Blotts with an order for a copy of his own. He and Ron would need all the help they could get to cope with NEWT level potions, and this book had already cleared up a lot of Harry's confusion. He never doubted for a second that his friend would get the marks he needed to pursue his ambition.
The thought of Ron was a bittersweet one. His friend was still in Egypt, and now that Harry couldn't even write about where he was and what he was doing, their notes to each other had gone from sporadic to non-existent. He'd sent similar letters to Ron, Ginny, Luna and Neville that he'd sent to Hermione, and only Neville had replied. Luna was off travelling with her dad, he remembered, and Ginny had never been in the habit of writing letters to him anyway, though her silence worried him.
He didn't have time to brood about any of this however, because on the Sunday night after the trip to Diagon Alley with the Muggles, there was a letter from the Headmaster waiting on his pillow, instructing him to come to the staff room at nine o'clock the next morning. Harry was so busy wondering why he was to meet the Headmaster there, instead of in his office, that the lack of communication from his friends went right out of his head.
The two gargoyles stayed silent when he approached the staff room door this time, which swung open before he could knock. He hesitantly stepped inside the room, remembering the last time he had been in here so had the Boggart Snape-in-a-dress . The memory cheered him up a bit and he glanced over at the wardrobe fondly.
"Ah, Mr Potter," Professor Spout spoke up from beside the urn. She had a steaming cup in one hand and a bundle of books in the other, "Right on time as always! In you go, through there."
Harry looked at the door she had jerked her head at and nodded, crossing the room and entering the side chamber where the teachers obviously held their meetings. Where the staff room was full of mismatched furniture, a kitchen corner and several untidily stuffed bookshelves and cupboards, the meeting room was quite different. All the armchairs matched, and were ranged in a sort of oval shape with small tables beside them. There was a low, long table in the centre with parchments, quills and ink, and one wall was taken up with a great big notice board that had the timetable for every single year and teacher on it in a rather complicated looking diagram, with the Quidditch pitch bookings and matches tacked on at the bottom.
"Well sit down Potter," Snape's voice snapped him back to reality, and Harry blushed, stepping out of Professor Sprout's way as she entered with her tea and taking the last empty chair between Madam Pomfrey and Professor Flitwick. All the teachers were there, even Professor Binns and a new woman that Harry didn't recognise. Snape was sitting stiffly, one leg stretched out on a footstool with a knobbly looking cane propped beside his chair. Harry hoped that cane wouldn't be used to prod students or he'd be feeling a lot of it, and looked around some more, spotting Trelawney beside McGonagall, peering about her with slightly reddened eyes. The Headmaster cleared his throat and the few teachers that had been talking quietened down. Hagrid was sitting in the corner next to Madam Hooch and Firenze, he waved as Harry came in and beamed proudly at him but didn't interrupt his conversation. It was obviously a full staff meeting and Harry wondered why in Merlin's name he'd been invited.
"Welcome back everyone," Dumbledore beamed, "It's good to see you all again after such a trying year."
"Which we hopefully won't have to live through again," Madam Pomfrey muttered.
"Indeed we won't Poppy. I have managed to secure for us a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, ensuring that the Minister does not have to go through the trouble of appointing one, and Fudge has been pressured in reversing the Educational Decrees that were passed last year," he reassured her, and she harrumphed under her breath, folding her arms sceptically.
Harry sat back and listened as the teachers settled to their meeting. Away from their students, they were quite relaxed. Professor McGonagall proved to have a sarcastic wit that rivalled Snape, and Flitwick was the master of brilliant quips. Harry had a hard time staying quiet, afraid that if he laughed he'd be kicked out when they realised he was there. It was fascinating to see which teachers got along and which didn't.
Harry was startled to find that the morning passed quickly, until all that remained to be discussed was the Defence Against the Dark Arts classes.
"Amelia Heggerty will be teaching Defence," Dumbledore introduced her, and was promptly interrupted.
"I'll be teaching the teens defence," she clarified, "As in thirteen and older."
"I knew it was too good to be true," Sinistra muttered darkly, "And what about our eleven and twelve year olds? How are they supposed to learn?"
"Mr Potter will be teaching them."
The silence after the Headmasters statement made Harry's ears hurt.
"I beg your pardon?" he blurted finally, "Me? I'm not a teacher!"
"The members of the DA might think otherwise," Dumbledore pointed out. Harry opened his mouth to explain why that assumption was so wrong it wasn't funny when his teachers saved him the trouble.
"The Ministry will never allow it!" Madam Hooch spoke up, "No offence, Potter, but he's just a boy!"
"A boy that has taken on a man's burden," Hagrid interrupted, "Everything seems to happen to Harry."
"That's no reason to burden him further," Madam Pomfrey spoke up and Harry sighed. The vote of confidence from the headmaster had been nice while it lasted.
"Come now, Poppy. You've often urged us to tell the boy more than we have," Professor McGonagall spoke up, "Besides, I took him with me for a trial during the Muggle home visits and he did extremely well."
"The fact remains that the Ministry will not allow it," Madam Hooch reiterated, "Albus, you don't want to risk another breach with the Ministry so soon after the last idiot they foisted on us!"
"It has long been in the school by-laws that the school may take an apprentice that shows an unusual level of skill," Dumbledore raised a hand to quiet them, "And although it has been nearly a hundred years since the last apprentice was taken, there is nothing to prevent us from reviving the practice."
"A hundred years!" Professor Trelawney frowned, her usual mystic tones sharply absent, "Who on earth remembers that far back?"
"I do," Dumbledore said simply, and Harry had another flash of insight. These were coming more and more frequently since he'd started increasing his use of elf magic. Loola had given him quite a few handy little pointers over the last few weeks, popping up at odd times for a quick lesson and then disappearing again.
"You were the apprentice," he blurted and Dumbledore nodded simply, silencing the dissenters.
"Before you get too excited Potter, the schools apprentice is at the beck and call of the teachers. Your duties will consist of whatever tasks the teachers deem fit for you," Snape drawled from where he sat and Harry knew he didn't have to be a Seer to foresee a lot of cleaning in his future.
"Ordinarily, Severus you would be correct," his Head of House intervened, "However in light of Harry's status as a student, certain of the traditional duties will be suspended. The apprentice usually teaches the lowest years in a particular course, marks their assignments and exams and sits one session of prep with them per week, per year level. Harry will be excused from assisting the other teachers with their workloads in order to allow him time to attend his own classes and complete his own work."
"Who would he be apprenticed to? I certainly don't want him," Professor Heggerty spoke up lazily, and Harry blushed. He didn't want to be anyone's favourite, but the cold dismissal of this woman before she even knew him did sting a little.
"I'll have him," Professor McGonagall said, "He's already in my care as a student of my House."
"Well, Potter? You haven't even accepted yet, or are you holding out for better conditions?" Snape snarked from his corner and Harry took a deep breath.
"It would be an honour," he said quietly, and Professor Sprout leaned over and hugged him, muttering 'welcome aboard' in his ear while Snape sneered from his armchair and McGonagall smiled primly and held out a small pin with an 'A' woven into the school crest.
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