Title: Harry Potter and the Summer's Secret

Author: Japhu

Pairing: HPSS

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter and his world and don't make any money with it.

Summary: For one week in summer Harry disappears without trace. When he comes back he claims to have no memory. But something happened and it changed him. It remains to be seen if for the better or the worse. (will be HPSS)

Category: action/adventure/angst

Feedback: highly appreciated

Chapter 26 – Almighty Headmasters

Playing idly with a lemon drop, twirling it around his gnarled fingers like a coin, Albus Dumbledore did not look like a loving grandfather, his face a blank mask of concentration. For once in his life there was no twinkle in his eyes and his mind was doing overwork. Perhaps it was because there was no one there to watch him; it was equally possible that it was because Harry Potter had finally grown out of his dependency for guidance by his elders, namely himself. Finally, the boy seemed not to take anyone's opinion but his own to mind when it concerned matters of his life. Admittedly, a bad time to rely on no one, as it seemed as if things were finally put into motion, although differently than the headmaster had anticipated and planned for.

Thoughtfully, Albus Dumbledore took another lemon drop to the one he was occupied with, twirling both of them faster than before. It kept his hands flexible for his wand. Certainly, he would need this ability sometime soon if things progressed further in that disturbing velocity.

Albus had been warned that things were about to happen, that something would change dramatically. He had not believed it would bring whole new groups of wizards to reveal themselves, every single one of them wielding powers that possibly matched his own – more so when those reports could be taken for granted.

Albus suspected he knew who those new players could possibly be; but he still lacked the confirmation, and without that he could do nothing. Even if his informant had confirmed what Albus thought very much probable, he could do nothing more than limiting the damage and trying to prevent further incidents as he himself had no access to those wizards' … resources. It would just be a relief to know one way or another. Sadly though, his only informant, who could possibly have known what was going on, had vanished at the same time when the incredible outburst of magic rolled over the world and shook every magical being to its cores. It had shaken up Albus Dumbledore too.

Acknowledging that explosion of power right together with Harry Potter's disappearance brought together one thing too much happening at once; and Albus Dumbledore did not believe in coincidents. It was lack of foresight that Albus had not thought to ask his informant if he knew something about the happenings on Privet Drive when he was still within his reach. Now it was too late.

It made his heart beat faster, the self appointed burden on his shoulders a bit heavier, because when he was right the Wizarding world had to play in a new league, and it was not the other team that would be the weaker one in their oncoming encounter. There was not much the Wizarding world could throw in the battle field against those wizards. Albus himself would be hard pressed to do more than help were it was most needed, not much help at all. If Voldemort had those secretive wizards – Red Robes his spy and Potions Master had entitled them in lack of a real name – on his side, it might well be that the Wizarding world had lost the war already.

He really hoped that the young boy could bring some light into the happenings. Albus needed to know what was going on. He had to adapt his plans, and he needed to prepare the Wizarding world – an impact it would be, for some more than for others, certainly – but at first he needed to solve the more urgent matters, even if those were not necessarily more important for the world's fate.

Harry Potter's OWL results lay in front of him. The boy had done all right for the most part, though nothing special. His grades were by no means above average, but not under it either – for the most part. What had surprised Albus was the abysmal grade the boy had gotten in Potions. Albus had thought Harry would do better after all that talk about becoming an Auror after school. The headmaster sighed. There was nothing to do but to wait for Harry to explain himself, if the boy was willing to talk to him.

Sometimes, lately more often than not, Albus Dumbledore felt his age catching up with him. Not taking into account that the summer had kept the boy occupied in a way no one could have foreseen, Albus had hoped that Harry would have found the time to think about certain things during his weeks away from Hogwarts and to considerably cool down his temper. That the boy downright ignored his headmaster indicated something else, though. In good conscience, Albus could not say that he would not have done the same had he been in Harry's position. If he had thought someone kept something as important as the prophecy from him, Albus would make them weep until they swore never to do anything remotely similar again. Certainly, the prophecy changed more than one life.

Since last year Albus had been asked for the prophecy more than once, but he had been strict. Not anyone but Harry knew the full content, except himself. The few Order members that needed to be told were sworn to secrecy and would never be able to give even hints. He hoped the boy had enough sense in his head to keep it to people that held his absolute trust. Albus would have preferred if he could have kept the knowledge from the boy as well.

Tiredly, the man turned around and looked through the high arched windows. He was certain that without magic the panes would have shattered some time ago. A wall of darkness pressed against the ancient castle and he could hear the storm howling threateningly around the towers. It seemed as if the night had fallen a few hours early, not a good omen if one believed in those.

The headmaster turned his attention away from the raging storm when out of the corner of his eye he saw Fawkes straightening on his perch, preening his feathers more intently, as if trying to look busy for the coming visitor. A heart beat later the castle let him know that someone passed the guardian gargoyle.

It was only a slight tingle of magic that ran through his body, not much for a warning, but Hogwarts was a building (filled with magic, certainly, but built of human hands, nevertheless). Albus experienced this tingle of magic always when someone was on his way up the stairway to his office. Whatever magic the castle held, it was enough to make the current headmaster find the fastest way to a certain point; it led him down the shortest route to wherever he had to be; and most of the countless portraits were agreeable to help when they could.

Albus took a deep breath. It was time to be the headmaster again; time to see if his way still worked with Harry Potter or if he had to think of something else to keep him from going overboard.

The mistakes he had done with the boy could not be made undone as much as he wished to be able to change some things – though, not what everyone thought he would change. Whatever Harry or anyone else believed, he loved the boy as if he was family. Although, his feelings did not change the boy's role in this war, it did not make his fate any different and as much as it hurt him, Albus would see to it that Harry did not run away from his future. The world's need was much greater than Albus Dumbledore's need – or his right – to keep the boy away and safe from everything.

With more self-confidence and less doubt of his own decisions the boy would grow into an exceptional young man, who would, with experience, surpass everyone on his way to greatness. Whatever his grades, Harry was not to be one among thousands. His grades were the only thing average about the boy and that fact left Albus puzzled every year anew, because he knew Harry could do much better, though the boy had never been one to like studying above living.

Only a few wizards and witches were powerful enough to see the resources of magic and mind others could grab on to if they set their whole being on to something. It had to be harder for Harry to recognize the path his future could take him to. It was always harder to look into the mirror and to admit what was there. It was sad that not more people recognized Harry's destiny – not even Harry himself (or he just did not want to). The boy had an affinity to forget things he did not want to remember; on the other hand he tended to remind himself of things that better were forgotten. It was not necessarily a good way to deal with life. Albus hoped – for Harry – that the boy would learn with time, and that he had left enough of time to learn.

Albus had kept an eye on the boy during the welcoming feast. From the distance he had not been able to see much other than that Harry looked well fed and overall in much better shape than he had been in the years before.

However, when the boy stepped into his office Albus recognized at once that Harry had undergone a dramatical change, not so much in appearance but in demeanor. His way to carry himself, how he looked about the room (sure and confident as he was always supposed to be) – Harry somehow managed to look more and less Gryffindor than before, all at once. To take up Severus' habit of pining supposed House qualities upon his students, Albus had always thought that Harry had quite a bit of a Slytherin in him, not that he had told him or planned to tell. Some things were good to know, but better kept quiet. It was enough to know that Harry could do differently than rushing head first into danger when he needed to. Albus was not one to complain, after all he himself could carry out his Slytherin side quite well when nature called for it.

The boy seemed still curious, although more reserved about it. He knew now that the answer to some questions could be anything but what one was able to imagine. Quite obviously, Harry was still angry with him, and although Albus had taken it for a certainty by now – it hurt no less; but left no question in him that the old way would not work anymore.

It puzzled him that Harry had shown up at all, though that puzzle solved itself when Severus – a peculiar expression of absolute distaste and… doubt on his face – slipped soundlessly in behind the boy. It explained thoroughly why Albus would not have to wait until dinner for Harry to come up to his office or to send the boy's head of house to him again, which would have gained Harry a detention. Minerva did not take lightly to lack of respect towards Albus Dumbledore.

"Thank you, Severus." Albus acknowledged. Perhaps it would be good to have his Potions Master with him for at least a part of the conversation. His presence certainly got Harry to be hard pressed to keep his thoughts on track and maybe it opened his mouth much more freely. With a barely visible nod he indicated for the man to stay and ignored the grimace on Harry's face, his twinkle firmly in place when he turned to the boy.

For a first, he had Harry wait through his scrutiny he bestowed upon everyone of importance; obvious and with apparently no cunning whatsoever it made most people even more uneasy, thinking of things they could have done wrong, thinking that he would call them on their mistakes any minute now. It often drew sighs of relief when he did not do as they thought, but it made people more approachable for the following conversation, and it had loosened tongues more than once – though never the one of his Potions Master.

Intrigued the younger man watched the proceedings from a corner. He certainly must ask himself why Albus suddenly changed the way he dealt with the boy, and certainly Severus knew what it meant, some of it at the very least, as he seemed trying to hide his surprise behind a mask of badly endured boredom. Of course, the Potions Master was new to the thought to think of Harry Potter as anything else but a nuisance, an obstacle in his way to wherever he thought to go.

The boy did not know that Albus greeted only his equals – or betters – In that way, friends and enemies alike. Certainly, nobody who knew would tell Harry, who was gaining that status rapidly – if he did not have it already – what it entailed. Of course, he had not watched Harry less during the past years, he just had tried to make the boy – and children in general – feel comfortable while doing so unnoticed.

It pleased Albus tremendously that he finally had been successful to open Severus to a new way of thinking, even if it would probably take years to take roots. He respected the younger man very much, but the blindness when it came to anything related to Potter – let it be James or Harry or a Muggle unlucky enough to be caught bearing that name – all sense the man normally possessed flew straight out of the window.

Albus thought that it must be very tiring to keep any feelings as heated as that alive over a long time. It was no wonder Severus always wore an unhealthy expression. It must take all of his energy to keep the hate strong enough to go on and on about it at every opportunity. Naturally, Albus liked his life enough to keep quiet about it. More than once he had thought that Severus had lived long enough in his misery and self pity, though if it helped him to keep up his remarkable spying abilities, Albus was not one to say differently – not as long as the world's fate was out of balance.

Harry meanwhile did not take as well to being openly watched as Severus did, but then, the boy did not have long years of practice at his back. He was in no way used to the way Albus treated his equals – or dangerous fools who thought themselves to be his equal. The boys eyes grew darker as he shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another, though he stopped when he recognized what he was doing. Albus smiled cheerfully as if unaware of the undercurrent apparent in the increasing tension in the room. It was noticeable to anyone halfway adapt in the dealings of interhuman relations. Smiling overly bright, Albus Dumbledore pulled a pouch with lemon drops out of nothing, deciding for himself to let his Potions Master be and observe for now, and to give the boy his full concentration.

"Would you like a lemon drop, Harry?" the headmaster asked amiably. Shaking his head disappointedly, he put one of them into his own mouth when the boy grunted out something between his clenched jaw that he took for the 'No!' it was certainly supposed to be. So much anger in one boy and nothing he could do.

"Sir?" Harry did not like the way the headmaster stared him up and down, although it seemed to amuse Snape quite a bit, if anything could amuse that cold hearted bastard.

"Ah, yes." The old man pointed to a chair. "Take a seat, Harry. Make yourself comfortable."

Harry threw a glance to where the Potions Master stood watching him. When he met the dark, assessing eyes the formerly expressionless mask distorted into a face that would make Voldemort proud. Harry blinked and quickly looked away. He did not want to follow to where that thought led; but he did sit down eventually.

"I assume you were a bit occupied with settling in yesterday, Harry?" the headmaster gave him an excuse.

"Er… yes, sir. I suppose I was." The Gryffindor took a harder grip on the armrest, his eyes shifting from one end of the room to the other, but meeting neither the questioning glances of his headmaster, nor the enquiring ones of his hated Potions Master.

"I was waiting for you quite a while, Harry." The boy cringed at the open disappointment in the old man's voice.

"I'm sorry, sir." Harry said quietly, before he rushed on more lively. "I was really tired. I didn't think you'd appreciate me sleeping in your office, sir." Although it would have made an interrogation with Legilimency a lot easier for the old coot; and less likely for Harry to notice what was happening – not so now; but of course the crazy codger did not know Harry's abilities in Occlumency. Harry would not want to miss his face when the moment of recognition hit him. Naturally, Harry would have to make sure that this fine moment did not happen and pass all too soon, and only when Harry wanted his skills be known. It would certainly be a surprise when the headmaster found out – hopefully though, not today.

Disturbingly aware of Dumbledore's never wavering gaze and the burning, coal black eyes in his back, Harry was quick to force himself back into what he thought were Gryffindor pattern. It was not easy to keep his own between those two, but he would fall dead to their feet before he let them do with him as they liked. This year it would have to be Dumbledore playing his game, not the other way around. They would see soon enough how he liked it to be face down on the table for the whole time of their game – figuratively spoken.

Harry knew that he was at a considerable disadvantage between them, and from the moment he had been shoved into the office he felt that something was off, a somehow important matter, something significant. The reason for that itchy feeling between his shoulder blades hit him only now when his mind wandered off into a direction he did not want it to take. At first he had thought that it must be the Potions Master staring holes into his back – or him trying to legilimize him – that took him off, but it was something else altogether, which made the git's stare nothing more than a secondary matter.

Although the castle had somehow taken Harry's ability to see magic, the diffuse shadow of a wizard's aura was still somewhat recognizable for him when he put enough concentration in his mind. It was not to be so now. Either the castle messed around with his mind – again, or Dumbledore did not have an aura – though he had to! Even Voldemort did have an aura – at least when that bastard still had his body around the dark pit that was his soul.

Swallowing, Harry tried to look sulking, his mind remembering those Thestrals. The mysterious animals did not have an aura, and that was alright – they were animals, special animals, but still. With them it had been a surprise, but it had felt natural, nevertheless. This here though… Harry tried to look without looking. Could Dumbledore influence his aura? Was something like that even possible? Harry had thought to hide his aura before when those red robed wizards had nearly caught him in their web. It really seemed possible now. Voldemort had not been able to change his own aura – at least Harry did not know… and Tom?

Harry listened. Either Tom did not know, or he did not want to answer; the latter was more likely, though Tom seemed rather impressed and disturbed by Dumbledore's display of… whatever. It would be nice to know what it was that had Tom so impressed. Harry was certain, what he did not know of Tom was much more than what he knew; and what he did not know was probably – even with Harry's luck – much more important than everything else. The feeling of Tom's presence was only a faint tingle in the back of his head, but it sent goose bumps down his spine and made Harry remind himself where he was, and with whom.

Harry tried to listen to Dumbledore. He was sure the old man had something to say – his lips were moving, but lastly he only took the piece of parchment the headmaster thrust into his direction and took the opportunity to look down into his lap. Was that the reason Dumbledore had kept staring at him in that disturbing manner – as if he was truly mad? The lines on the parchment in his fingers blurred together. Harry was just relieved that his hands did not shake like his world of plans and wishes. What did he do when Dumbledore could see auras? What was left to do if he could see more than that? Not that Harry could change anything, but he was truly flabbergasted. The old twinkler was like the Thestrals in his aura… but not. It did not feel natural at all.

He looked up to become aware of the headmaster's expectant gaze and looked down at once. Whatever the man was able or unable to do, it was a matter that was better kept for a later time. For now, Harry had to deal with Dumbledore and that stupid parchment. Finally, focusing his gaze onto the role of paper, Harry read, trying to think of the reaction he was supposed to show. Although the apparent bafflement he had shown until now seemed to have been a good start. Harry's eyes grew wide momentarily, and he read the parchment again.