Chapter Two: Conjuring Up the Problem

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

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If someone had told Harry a week ago that he would someday have an Auror's wand pointed at his face, he would have laughed and called them barmy. Now though, he found himself in quite the dilemma. The five Auror's remained unwavering in their convictions with their faces etched in deep seeded loathing, and their wands practically in his neck. Granted, it was bad they had their wands pointed at him, the Bloody-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Regret-It, but he'd been in worse situations.

"Stand up, Potter and don't even think of running," the leader, or who Harry assumed was, seethed. "Give me an excuse to hex you, and I'll use it."

Death Eater's in disguise? No, they wouldn't have hesitated to hex me. Warily, he rose to his feet with his eyes trained on the Auror's wands. "I think you guys have the wrong person," he grumped with a slight tremor in his voice. It might be Imperius. Of all the conclusions abound in his mind it was the only one that seemed to stick.

The Auror's eased up, and relaxed their taunt shoulders. "You think you're funny, boy?" one of them simpered from the back, the voice distinctly female with a slight rasp to it. Something must have damaged her throat.

Harry didn't like the way this was going in the slightest. "No, I don't. I just want to get back to Hogwarts. You see, Umbridge hexed me and-"

A bark of laughter erupted from the leader, his shoulders shaking like freshly made jelly. "You think you're going to Hogwarts? After you trial, it's straight to Azkaban for you." The man jerked his wand up, and aimed it straight for the center of Harry's throat. "Stu-"

Faster than the bang of a gun shot, Harry whipped his wand out of his pocket and shouted, "Lumos maxima!" before the poor Auror knew what was going on. Light erupted from the end of his wand, and blanketed the street in a bright glow. The Auror's cried out, and flung their arms up to guard their already exposed eyes. He known the light from his wand would blind them, but not for how long and to what extent. Spinning on his heel, Harry booked it down the street muttering, "Nox," under his breath as he ran to extinguish the light.

Buildings blurred as his long, sinewy legs put more and more distance between him and the Auror's. He only hoped their temporary lack of vision kept them as far away as possible.

His hopes were short lived as a familiar streak of red magic whizzed past his head, and harmlessly struck the side of a brick wall leaving a plate sized dent. Shit! It didn't last long at all! Angry shrieks, and bellows nipped at his heels and he dared a glance over his shoulder. They weren't more than ten feet behind him, and screaming for his blood like dogs frothing at the mouth.

Harry spun into a narrow alleyway, and vaulted over heaps of boxes that were strewn about. Behind him, he heard one of the Auror's attempt the same youthful feat, only to clip one of the boxes with his foot, and go face first into the ground. The temptation to cackle manically was almost too strong to defy. Well, I certainly don't wish to exacerbate things.

Just as he reached the end of the alley he turned to face his would-be attacker's, wand raised. The leader, whom he easily recognized with his towering bulk and furious eyes, thundered toward him like a rampaging bull. His wand was up above his head, a spell already accumulating at its tip.

"Accio wand!" Harry shouted, and watched in amusement as the Auror's wand zipped out of his grip, and slapped into Harry's open hand. The man skidded to a stop as his fingers closed around the air where his wand should have been. Curiously, he only stood still for a second before focusing his attention back on him with his lips pulled back in a snarl. He resumed his charge with an arm outstretched in hopes to grab the boy before another spell was cast.

Harry smirked, raised his wand and bellowed, "Expelliarmus!" The spell, though simple, hit the man square in his board chest, lifted him up off his feet and sent him sailing backwards. Muffled cries of alarm echoed through the alley as his body connected with those of his comrades, and sent them all to the dirt.

Considering their level of skill in the wizarding world, Harry was delightfully surprised to find that he had bested the Auror's so easily. Maybe they were green, fresh out of the Ministry of Magic's training program? Whatever the case, they'd made a grave mistake. The only person he recalled killing was Professor Quirrel, and it had been an accident at best. What had given them the idea that he was some sort of criminal?

With one last glance at the pile of moaning Auror's, Harry fled from the alleyway and quickly made his way to the road leading to Hogwarts Castle. Much to his relief, the road to the school was vacant aside from occasional nocturnal beasts. The idea of having to run from more befuddled rookie Auror's wasn't a pleasant thought in the slightest.

Like a holy edifice, the towers of Hogwarts peeked above the tops of the Forbidden Forest. A relieved smile broke across his face with little resistance as he urged his tired legs to speed up. This was another odd adventure to add to the books, and one he would be glad to put behind him.

He'd barely passed the threshold with a foot on the grounds when an audible pop greeted his ears and Dumbledore, in all his purple robed glory, appeared before him. "Professor Dumbledore!" he exclaimed, and rushed to meet him. "Am I ever glad to-"

Something in Dumbledore's eyes froze him down to the core, and faltered his steps. The sparkle that he'd grown so accustomed to seeing, and the warmth associated with everything that was Dumbledore was gone. In stead, his usual merry gaze was hard, unsympathetic and filled with an emotion that Harry had never seen directed at him.

Betrayal. A betrayal so deep that it shook his very foundations, and shone like a death sentence from Dumbledore's very countenance. Pain, pity and a faint hint of anger swirled about Dumbledore's eyes like some evil concoction.

Harry stumbled back as if scalded by his gaze. Confusion leaked from every crevasse of his mind, thick like years old paint. "P-Professor?" he stammered, hoping to all the entity's of the world that the old wizards grim frown would break out into a smile, and ease his building dread.

"What are you doing here, Harry?" Dumbledore whispered though his voice sounded like a thundering squall in his ears. "What do you hope to gain? Wasn't Diagon Alley enough?"

In the distance, lightening stuck and a strong gale tore though the valley of Hogwarts. The calm, serene sky of an hour ago raged with thick black clouds, pregnant with water. In unison, they burst at the seams and rain poured to the ground.

Harry was soaked to the bone in an instant while Dumbledore seemed untouched as the rain splattered against, and slid off a protective barrier encasing his ancient body. "W-What are you talking about?" Harry shouted. "I haven't done anything. Why is eve-"

Dumbledore lifted his hand sharply, and silenced him on the spot. "No more lies. I have been lenient, hopeful that you would return to the Light on your own, Harry but I can see now that it was a grave mistake." A wand appeared out of his sleeve, dark against the pale skin of his palm.

Harry started and fled backwards, his sneakers slipping across the wet grass. "Wa-Wait, Professor, I don't' know what you're-"

"Stupefy!"

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Despite the numerous occasions her life had been put into danger, Hermione couldn't recall a time where she'd actually had the time to look at the interior of Dumbledore's office. It was a peculiar room at best, with odd trinkets strewn about, bobbles floating in the air and hundreds of Headmaster and Headmistress paintings lining the walls. She spied the Sorting Hat nestled snuggly in a nook above a bookcase. Fawkes the Phoenix was perched in his usual spot with his head tucked beneath his left wing, and in the center of the organized mess sat Dumbledore behind his desk, the ever present twinkle vibrant in his eyes.

"Now Miss Granger, please explain to me what happened to Mister Potter. Be careful to leave out no details, no matter how insignificant they may seem," he instructed with a slight bow of his head.

She fidgeted in her seat, and fiddled with the hem of her skirt. "Well, we were in the middle of Defense Against the Dark Arts when Harry and Professor Umbridge got into a bit of a tiff. Harry was yelling at her when his scar started to bleed."

An eyebrow arched above Dumbledore's hairline. "Bleed you say? How very interesting. Please continue."

She inclined her head before softly mumbling, "I ran to him, and he got the most peaceful look on his face. I told him about the scar, but he acted as if it was the most normal thing in the world." Her lips paled, and thinned as the color drained from her face. "Then, he fell back and vanished into thin air, like he was smoke or something."

A soft hum wafted past the old wizards parted lips in contemplation. "While his disappearance is rather odd, I must say that Mister Potter is well and accounted for."

Her forehead crinkled as her brows knotted together. "How is that possible? I saw him disappear."

All she received in reply was a curt nod, and a brisk response. "He was found by the lake, and is now being looked after by Madam Pomfrey. You can go visit him if you'd like."

Just as Dumbledore finished his sentence, a resounding crack sang through the school, followed by a rumbled that shook the walls and rattled the windows. "Now I wonder what that was," Dumbledore mused as he rose from his seat with a swish from his velvet robes. He quickly left the room, Hermione hot on his heels as he broke a path through the gathering students in the hallway. Whispers echoed though the halls, punctuated by an occasional scream. The herd of students lead all the way to the Hospital Wing where a small wisp of smoke snaked its way out from under the double doors.

With a flourish, Dumbledore cast the doors open, shouting for the students to stay behind him at the same time. Hermione sneaked a peak through the doors around his arm, and let out a moan of despair.

The Hospital Wing was in ruins. Small fires were pot-marked throughout the room, filling it with thick, black smoke. A brilliant light shone through it from a dragon sized hole in the far wall. Charred rubble littered the floor haphazardly. In the center of it all, Madam Pomfrey laid sprawled on the ground where a rock the size of a giant's fist pinned her leg. "A-Albus!" she cried out in alarm as Dumbledore swooped down upon her. A quick spell sent the rubble rolling off her trapped limb, and another healed the deep gash across her brow, and leg.

Professor McGonagall strode into the room with Severus Snape at her heels. "What happened?" she questioned with a grim face. "It sounding like a bomb went off inside the castle."

With great help from the Headmaster, Pomfrey got to her feet; her knee's weakly knocked together. "W-Well, I was looking after Mister Potter and-"

"Potter!" Snape hissed with his lips pulled back in a sneer. "Why am I not surprised he's involved."

"Severus," Dumbledore said with an affirmative tone. "Let Madam Pomfrey finish." All he received in return was a scoff from the Potions Master. "Continue, Madam Pomfrey."

Pomfrey cleared her throat, and settled onto an overturned mattress Dumbledore had taken her to. "As I was saying, I was attending to Mister Potter. It looked like he was having a bit of a fit, so I went to check on him when he suddenly woke up. He looked confused for awhile, but when he saw me he started screaming and cursing. He jumped up from his bed, and blasted a hole in the wall with his wand." Nervously, she wrung her fingers together. "It was such a powerful, dark spell. I've never seen one like it."

Dumbledore bowed his head, and thanked her before ushering everyone out of the remains of the Hospital Wing. "This is most disturbing news, I'm afraid. It also confirms my suspicions."

Hermione frowned, and moved to stand before him. "Professor?"

The smile returned to his face, though it was strained. He placed a wrinkled hand atop her head, and signed with what sounded like deep regret. "When I found Mister Potter, I was surprised to find him without a scar on his forehead. In stead, he bore the symbol of Salazar Slytherin upon his brow and the Dark Mark of Voldemort's elite upon his right arm"

Minerva clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her gasp of surprise while Snape simply lifted a brow in vague amusement. "How is that possible?" We haven't let Harry out of our sights since the beginning of the school year."

"I am well aware of that Minerva," he chuckled. "It looks as if we've had a little mix up with a… alternate reality."

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Something slick and cold plopped down on his cheek, blazing a trail down to his lips. Another droplet splattered against his skin, followed by another, and another until Harry could no longer drift comfortably in the realm of unconsciousness. A groan passed his parched lips as he slowly pushed his weary body up from the cold, wet stony floor he'd been napping on. "Bollocks," Harry hissed as a throbbing pain reverberated through his head. As he tried to make sense of his muddled thoughts, he leaned back to examine the room.

It was a prison cell, plain and true. It remained him of one of the cells he'd seen in an old muggle movie about King Arthur and his Knights. From the stone walls, floor and ceiling, the door made entirely of steel bars and the periodic leak of water from the cracks in the stone above his head, it was a cell. What in God's name happened? Last I remember… Dumbledore! His head snapped up with a start as his memories rushed back to him tenfold. He hexed me. That bloody old bat hexed me. He remembered the hurt, and betrayal so vivid on the wizards face and the red flash of light as Dumbledore's spell hit him. Why had Dumbledore attacked him in the first place? Had everyone and their mother gone completely insane?

"Ah, it's good to see you awake," a voice chuckled from beyond the doorway of his cell.

Harry snorted, and fixed his attention on the man sitting behind the bars on a rickety old chair. "I wouldn't have been out in the first place if it wasn't' for you, Professor."

Dumbledore chuckled again, and clasped his hands on his crossed knee. "You gave me quite the shock back there, Mister Potter. I half expected Tom to be right behind you."

Harry frowned, and moved closer to the bars. "Why did you attack me? Why did the Auror's try to capture me?" he questioned with what he hoped was a pleading expression. "I mean, one moment I'm yelling at Umbridge in DADA class, and the next thing I know, I'm running through Hogsmeade with a horde of angry Auror's on my tail."

The man who'd put him in such a state remained silent for a moment, his brows knitted together in thought. "Lying will do you no good now, Harry. Your trial begins tomorrow, and not even Tom himself will be able to rescue you from whatever they decide is your fate." That said, he stood from his chair and dragged it away from Harry's sight. "I was hoping to get you to plead guilty to everything you've done now so the jury would lessen your punishment, but it seems like a wasted endeavor. Goodbye, Mister Potter." Dumbledore bowed to him at the waist, something he'd never seen before and disappeared from his view.

Panic rose inside him as the older man's words settled in. "No… Dumbledore, wait!" Harry threw himself at the bars, and stretched a hand out to the man he considered his surrogate father. "Please, I don't know what you're talking about! I haven't done anything wrong! Please, don't leave me here!" Harry pleaded on the verge of tears.

Dumbledore didn't even falter a step. He opened the door leading out of the prison room, cast one look at Harry over his shoulder and disappeared beyond the doorway. It shut with a roar, and echoed through the prison.

"No, come back. Tell me what's going on, just don't leave me," Harry whispered to the still air. He received nothing but silence.

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End Chapter Two

Cool beans, I finally finished this thing faster than I thought it would. To anyone reading this, I apologize that it took so long to get out. I promise to get Chapter Three out in less than a month.

FYI, I still don't have a beta-reader, so if there is a bunch of errors, I apologize beforehand.