Disclaimer: No, you're right, it isn't mine and I'm not making any money out of it. (As though I could!)

"Cornelius Fudge was assassinated by Death Eaters two months ago," said Dumbledore quietly. "The other two were killed as well, in the same raid."

Harry let out a short bark of laughter. So, he had to trust Dumbledore to tell him the truth, eh? But oddly enough, he felt that the old man had been honest with him so far…

"So there's no one I can blame now…" he muttered, more to himself than the others. "My friends didn't know…" he stopped there, and looked sharply at Dumbledore.

"You knew?"

Chapter 5

More Explanations

It wasn't a question… more like an accusation.

As soon as the words left his mouth, Harry felt like kicking himself. Of course Dumbledore knew… he wouldn't have hidden Harry's wand behind the portrait otherwise. Dumbledore would get more suspicious, Harry had let his emotions get the better of him. But after a moment, he forgot all about it, as something very interesting happened…

He could sense Dumbledore's heart beat faster, his pulse quickened… he could almost smell the tiny beads of sweat that formed on Dumbledore's forehead…

"Harry, how could you think that!" Well, Hermione seemed slightly agitated by his accusation…

"Yeah, if he'd known, we'd all have come and busted you out of there!" Ron… taking her side as usual…

"Harry, don't you realize Professor Dumbledore's on our side?" Neville… his quiet loyalty to Dumbledore showing through…

Nothing from Luna or Ginny. Well, at least that was something…

Dumbledore held up his hand for silence. "I'm afraid I did not share Cornelius' confidences in this matter," he replied quietly.

There was an unmistakable ring of truth in his voice. Harry frowned for a moment, certainly Dumbledore had become nervous… and it hit him.

"You haven't answered my question, Professor."

Dumbledore sighed, and leaned back in his chair. "I assure you I had no idea you were in Azkaban, Harry," he said, stroking Fawkes, not meeting Harry's eyes.

Lie.

Harry smiled, satisfied.

"Professor, I have a question," Hermione sounded as though they were in class.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Wasn't there a court scribe at the trial?"

Harry thought he saw a flash of annoyance in Dumbledore's eyes, but it was gone so quickly that he wasn't sure.

"What's…" he began.

"A court scribe takes notes of the proceedings in a trial, Harry. He writes down the questions asked, and the answers given by the witnesses."

"And was there one in my trial?"

"I'm not sure," Dumbledore frowned. "You must understand that the only information we have on the trial is from Mr. Malfoy's evidence. He did not see a scribe, but of course there might have been one hidden from view. By law, a scribe must be present at all trials…"

Harry smiled bitterly. "Yeah, but my trial wasn't exactly legal was it?"

Dumbledore ignored the interruption. "Nevertheless, I have been making enquiries. Of course, you shall know if I find anything."

Yeah, right.

"Any other questions, Harry?"

Harry thought for a bit. Well, the obvious question was there of course… but should he ask Dumbledore? Well… why not?

"Why can't I remember anything before the time I went to Azkaban?"

A sudden catching of breath behind him told him that the others were as interested as he was. Dumbledore examined him through his half-moon glasses.

"I do not know for certain. But if I were to venture a guess, I should think that you did it yourself."

There was complete silence in the circular office. Well, at least from the people, the silver instruments were still whirring. The next moment a confused babble arose.

"What?"

"Ridiculous."

"Professor, how is that possible?" Hermione was of course, more interested in knowing how exactly he had emptied his mind of all memories…

Dumbledore was still looking at Harry, who hadn't said anything. The very idea was shocking and sounded impossible… but on second thought, it just could be true. The occasional flashes of his past, yes, he thought it made sense now, if he had planned all of it himself, but it left the question of…

"Why would I do such a thing?"

Dumbledore looked surprised at his reaction (or lack of it), but answered nonetheless.

"That, I believe, would be because of the Dementors."

Harry remembered how Ron and Hermione seemed disturbed when he had spoken casually about the Dementors, he remembered how they had shivered when one drew its rattling breath.

"What are those… things?"

"Dementors are one of the worst Dark creatures that infest the earth, Harry. They survive by sucking out happy thoughts from humans. Normally when near a Dementor, one experiences his or her worst memories…" Dumbledore broke off, and smiled at Harry. "As usual, you seem to be the exception, Harry. Dementors seem to have no effect on you whatsoever."

Harry frowned, "But how does…" and then he understood.

"You mean… since I didn't have any memories when I was in Azkaban, the Dementors couldn't make me relive any of my worst memories… and I remained unaffected?"

"Well done, Harry," Dumbledore smiled. "An extreme step, but it undoubtedly prevented you from going insane. You were always affected… rather badly, in their presence."

"But… that's very powerful magic," Hermione exclaimed. "How did you do that, without a wand I might add."

Harry grinned at her. "Would you believe me if I tell you that I don't remember?"

The joke had the desired effect, most of them laughed, albeit uncomfortably.

Hermione was deep in thought. "But still, it doesn't make sense." Harry wondered if she even heard what he had said. "I mean, it's not like you had no memories at all, did you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Harry," she began patiently, as though explaining to a four year old, that although surprising, two plus two did indeed make four. "You remember your stay in Azkaban, don't you? You still had some memories while you were in prison, your daily activities, umm… eating food and all that. The Dementors should still have had some effect on you…"

Ron laughed at her, "What, are you complaining?"

Hermione gave him a 'that's not funny, Ron' look. She did make sense.

"What do you think, Professor?"

Dumbledore seemed to be thinking deeply as well. "Miss Granger," he said finally. "I don't know how Harry managed to erase his own memories, without a wand. It would seem that there was some magic at work that we don't fully understand."

Harry glanced at Dumbledore. He was hiding something. Again.

"While we're on the subject… I need my wand, Professor," he said, barely hiding his irritation.

"Ah yes, of course." Dumbledore reached down and tapped one of the drawers in his desk with his wand. The drawer slid open noiselessly. "This came by owl post today," he said, handing Harry a wand and an envelope.

Harry did not even bother looking at the wand, but he put the letter in his robes. "Professor Dumbledore," he spoke softly. "I asked for my wand. You know the one, holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches."

Dumbledore settled back in his chair, the twinkle in his eyes gone. "May I ask how you know that, Harry?"

Damn, damn, damn… He had been careless again.

"I… I remember some things occasionally."

Dumbledore regarded him expressionlessly. "My wand first, Professor. Where is it?" Harry suddenly felt afraid, finding his wand was very important, he felt… incomplete without it.

"I sense that you are not being completely honest with me, Harry."

Harry felt a jolt of anger, he was tired of this verbal battle, he was tired of sifting truth and lies from Dumbledore's words. He just wanted his wand… and somehow he knew what to do.

"Lumos Solaria" he called, his palm in the air. He let his eyes wander around the office before coming to rest at the portrait of Phineas Nigellas. The wizard was wide awake now, it appeared as though there was a glowing golden halo around his head.

Harry snatched up the wand Dumbledore had given him, and strode over to where the portrait was.

Now what? He could not say the password, Dumbledore needn't know his Legilimency powers yet.

Harry tugged a little at the frame of the portrait, and wasn't surprised when it didn't open.

"Now, professor, would you be kind enough to tell me the password, or should I blast this open?" Harry pointed his wand at the portrait's forehead, and smiled evilly at him. Phineas' eyes grew wide with fear, and he scuttled over to the adjacent painting, where a large witch, who had been sleeping like a log the moment before, jumped up to make place for him.

Harry glanced back at Dumbledore, whose face was expressionless. He turned back to the empty portrait and waved his wand. "Reduc…"

"Stop," called out Dumbledore. Harry lowered his wand, not turning back to Dumbledore. "Phineas, please go back to your painting. I need the help of the Ancient and Noble House of Black."

Phineas glared at Harry before walking back reluctantly, muttering something that sounded like "Really, youngsters these days…"

Harry did not pay attention. As the portrait swung open, he saw his wand, a dazzling light coming from its tip. He threw aside the wand in his hand, which went clattering on to the floor.

"Accio," he called, holding out his hand. The wand came soaring to him. When he grasped it firmly, a sense of power flowed through him. Red and gold sparks shot out from the end of his wand, which felt warm and comfortable in his hand. He felt like he had regained a part of himself…

"Nox," he muttered, extinguishing the blinding light.

He turned back to the rest of them, Hermione's mouth was open. "You just performed wandless magic," she said softly.

"So?" he shrugged. "Bet lots of people can do it."

"Miss Granger is correct, Harry. It is exceedingly rare. You seem to share a special bond with your wand…"

"Which you tried to keep away from me," said Harry, coldly. "Care to explain why, Professor?"

Dumbledore held his head in his hands, and gazed down at his desk. Harry felt an irrational sense of… pity for the old man, but he forced himself to keep a cold look on his face.

"Miss Granger, and the rest of you, please Floo back to Grimmauld Place. I need to talk to Harry alone."

Harry opened his mouth to object, but when Dumbledore looked at him pleadingly, the words got stuck in his throat.

The others followed Hermione to the fire, Ron and Ginny seemed reluctant, but left when Harry smiled and nodded at them reassuringly. Luna was, of course, thinking about matters of greater importance…

"Yes, Professor?" Harry did not meet Dumbledore's eyes. Damn, he was too soft.

"First of all, Harry, I must apologize for attempting to hide your wand from you."

"Yes, you should be sorry."

Dumbledore removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. 'A sign of stress' thought Harry.

"Your wand is tainted," he said abruptly. "The use of Unforgivables has corrupted the Phoenix core. It is no longer a Light wand."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I can see why that would disturb you, Professor."

"Harry, please understand. I do not want you to be another Tom Riddle."

"Who's that?"

"Lord Voldemort's original name is Tom Marvolo Riddle."

"Voldemort killed my parents," Harry spoke carefully, trying to hide his anger. "And as far as I can make out, he's pretty much ruined my life so far. What makes you think I'm going to be like him?"

"I've seen it more times than I would care to recount, Harry. It only takes a few steps down the Dark path to completely change a person's beliefs and sense of morals."

Harry couldn't control himself anymore. He placed both his hands on the desk and stared at Dumbledore, eye to eye.

"Is that why you're afraid of me, Professor?" he hissed, his voice dangerously soft.

Dumbledore gazed back at him without blinking. "Partly, yes, that's true," he admitted. Harry was surprised that Dumbledore was so forthcoming.

"But mostly, I'm afraid for you."

Harry stared at him for a moment. Dumbledore had meant every word of what he said. Slowly his mouth twitched, and before Dumbledore's astonished eyes, he burst out laughing. Dumbledore was staring at him in amazement, clearly, whatever reaction he had been expecting from Harry, this wasn't it. It only made Harry laugh harder.

"I have to go," Harry said finally, wiping tears from his eyes, moving towards the fire.

Dumbledore waited until Harry had thrown the Floo powder in before asking "Harry, are you aware that you are highly proficient at a branch of magic called Hypnotism?"

Harry turned back to him with a smile. "Very much so, Professor." He turned back to the fire answering the unasked question, "And no, I won't tell you…"

He turned to Dumbledore one last time. "We must all have our secrets after all." With a quick smile he was gone, leaving behind a very confused Headmaster contemplating the enigma that Harry Potter had become.

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A/N: Didn't anyone like the bit about Mind Magic and Hypnotism and all that last chapter? I put a lot of thought into it you know!

Thanks to Rachel Sedai, Dragonero, HazelWolf1, Storyreader101 and lonlyheart for reviewing. You guys (and girls) rock!

Rachel Sedai: Well, pretty much everything got revealed this chapter. The full extent of Dumbledore's involvement… wait and see. And congrats, you spelt prophecy right!

HazelWolf1: Nah, don't worry. I'm no good at writing romance stuff, and I'm not about to start now!

Umm… a request that I've been putting off for a while. This is the first time I've written anything, and I'm not too confident about my writing abilities and all… Yeah, so I need some feedback on what you guys like and dislike about the plot, writing style, pace of the story… anything. I've enabled anonymous reviews if it'll help!

Thanks in advance, hope all of you enjoyed the chapter!

shadylion