Chapter Three- Contriving
"It would be my pleasure."
"Wonderful!" Albus said, smiling. "I daresay this year will prove most interesting."
Harry chuckled and shook his head slightly in exasperation. "Every year has proven its interest, Professor."
"That it has, my boy, that it has. For you especially, it seems." Albus twinkled at the young wizard. "As for now, I am not certain what you have learned at your Academy," A slightly inquiring stare at that, then, "so I do not know what precisely to do with where to place you back in classes."
"Well, sir, I am fairly certain that I am easily at the level of my age, that I can accomplish what most seventeen year old wizards can." Harry's smile had a small hint of laughter in it.
"Somehow I'll bet that you are understating your abilities." Albus gazed at Harry, who's smile only widened, fractionally.
"We'll see, Professor. As for now," Harry raised an eyebrow, "how about testing me to see if I'll fit into class?"
Albus thought for a moment and then, "That could work. There is a matter of classwork and tests for the last two years, though."
Harry nodded and reached into a leather pouch on his waist, next to the dagger. Pulling out a small scroll, he then clasped the pouch closed once more. Not sparing much of a glance at the rolled parchment, seemingly he knew well the contents, he handed it over the desk to Dumbledore.
"It is my certification from the Academy. It tells some of what I studied, and that I passed very well."
"I figured you passed highly, if that mark is any indication." Dumbledore answered slightly offhanded, as he opened the parchment.
Albus unrolled the crisp document and gazed at it. The first thing he noticed was the language. Latin. Remembering it was fairly easy, the old wizard had been fluent in it, he just hadn't used it for a number of years. 'Well, its just like, what's that Muggle saying, riding a tike. Or bike. Oh, well.' Redirecting his wayward thoughts back to the parchment in his hand, Albus raised it to a beam of light streaking through his office and read. Transfiguring, Alchemy, Magical Theory, Study of Species, Incanting. Those seemed mirror images of lessons at Hogwarts, even if Albus could only guess at the main content. But there were others that weren't offered at the distinguished wizarding school, and those only stoked the headmaster's interest in learning about Harry's training. Martial Arts, Artifice, Conditioning, Casting, Rites, Curatives. All marks of which showed Harry was not exaggerating in saying he passed well.
Dumbledore raised his eyes over his half-moon spectacles and gazed at the Boy Who Lived- and Had Now Returned.
"I believe that can attest to my studies while I have been away. The only thing is, only you should know of it, of all of what I told you. I would... rather keep my training, and my... travels, quiet."
Dumbledore didn't seem surprised, in fact he agreed right off. Harry thought that the man must have already determined it himself.
"Yes," Albus said, "that would be... prudent. Allow you to 'slip' in, so to speak. While there will be much fanfare, I suspect..." Harry's lips turned to a mild sneer before settling into a sardonic smile. "Yes, well my boy, we can't help that. You are the Boy Who Lived, you know."
"Unfortunately, even two years away did nothing to absolve me of that particular memory." Harry's soft words and quirk of the lips caused Albus to snort in laughter. As he quieted, he topped off both of their teacups with fresh tea. The shooting stars renewed their two-dimensional flights with rejuvenated vigor on the china.
"At any rate, the hype will be much lessened were the facts of your disappearance not made public. Any sooner than necessary, anyway." Albus continued. "And of course, the more surprises you can spring on a certain 'Dark Lord', well, those will only help you."
Harry grinned, the glinting in his eyes telling Albus that the surprises would be plenty and most certainly in the light side's favour. The headmaster's lips curled upwards. He definitely was anticipating finding them out. Harry seemed to realize this, but it only made his look of challenge more pronounced.
"Well. As we are agreed, we now must think of what we can use to explain your absence."
"I have thought a bit on this, Professor," Harry stated. He went on as Dumbledore looking inquiring, "Now, we can't say you knew of it, of course. And we need to leave it fairly close to the truth. One thing I have learned, the best deceits are grounded in fact. So, to that end, I figure we determine a group, a private association that retrieved me from where Tom had me. Something that maybe couldn't be verified, be couldn't be discredited either. They, in interest of helping, saw to my healing and than to my studies for these past years. And in the interest of safety for all, felt that no contact was best."
"Well, it seems you have given this a 'bit' of thought." Dumbledore's amused tone eased the seemingly patronizing words. Turning more serious, he continued, "In fact, it sounds pretty good. Leaves it open to include any discrepancies that may be found. Excellent for where you went. But what do you suggest about the destruction of the manor?"
"Destruction of the manor? I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."
Albus looked at him. "The manor you were kept in by Voldemort. We found out through a couple sources that you were at the one he used for those he captured, we just weren't able to determine where that was. Not until the Ministry was alerted of a major disturbance of magic in a previously unplottable area. The magic destroyed and manipulated the spells hiding it. We were able then to go to the location. The location of the manor."
"Alright, yes, my magic must have hit the wards, letting you get there. I must have already been transported then, when the Ministry arrived. But what were you talking about before?"
"Your magic completely demolished the manor. When the Ministry and myself, along with a few others I trust, arrived, the building was in ruins, you and Voldemort were gone, and a few deatheaters were laying about for easy capture."
"Really? Ha, I hadn't realized that happened. I was a little preoccupied, I suppose." Harry rolled his shoulders gracefully. "Well, I don't suppose we can say that our little 'group' did it, could we? No." Dumbledore shook his head in agreement.
"I suppose the best thing would be to say that a mixture of magic from you, Voldemort, and whatever else, caused it."
"And then no one will be able to determine that isn't the entire truth. It should last till things come out." Harry nodded, clearly thinking through different situations. Albus was doing the same thing.
"All we need is to plan this 'group', and set up a trail should someone look," Albus mused to himself.
Both lapsed once more into silence, then Albus seized a quill and some parchment. He quickly composed a letter of some kind and then sealed it closed. He rose and moved to Fawkes, who by that time had been awake and gazing benignly at them. The Phoenix took off with the letter in a burst of flame and Albus turned back toward Harry.
Finding Harry's calm sight on him, Dumbledore said, "That letter will put the story into motion, we have only to wait for a response."
As he moved back to his desk and sat down, Harry nodded. Then, he spoke up. "This seems, then, like a good time to ask you what has happened while I've been gone. I've only received vague explanations from the realm 'jumpers' as to what has been occurring. Attacks, Voldemort gaining followers, resistance from light forces. There was a battle at the Ministry itself, the June before last? That's about all. What's happened? What have we lost? Deaths? Most non-humans give little care to human casualties, see them as little more than statistics in a war that has only started reaching their own lives. And they were my only sources. And I have a right to know, now, as I am back." His voice was steely and demanded answers.
"I do not dispute your right to know, not anymore. As to what..."
Suddenly, Albus broke off with a start. The Floo of the fireplace had flared to life. Two figures stumbled in, regained their footing, and straightened. Dusting themselves off, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black turned towards the headmaster.