Chapter Ten: Old Men and Old Money

September 7th

8:22pm

Hogwarts, Scotland

Harry

"Acid pops," he said to the stoic eagle stationed outside Dumbledore's office. The man had invited Harry to meet with him shortly after their first D.A.D.A lesson which gave him an inkling that a certain cloaked professor would be mentioned in their talk.

He ascended the spiral steps and, upon the headmaster's invitation, entered the ancient office. There was once a time where the room came with a sense of mystery and trepidation but now all he felt was annoyance at his evening being interrupted. Harry took a seat immediately, eager for their conversation to be over, and said, "evening headmaster."

"Good evening, Harry," Dumbledore greeted in return. "How has the start of your term been so far?"

Harry smiled fondly at making Snape fly, "I believe you know."

"Indeed," Dumbledore frowned. "I must ask you not to make examples out of my professors if it can be helped."

Harry raised his hand in surrender and replied, "he accepted the demonstration, it's not my fault I'm a better teacher than he is."

"Be that as it may, it took a great deal of convincing on my part for Severus not to press charges. I believe your position at the ministry would allow it all to be swept away but then the minister would have leverage over you."

Harry scrutinised Dumbledore, 'he speaks of leverage but then tries to pull the same trick with me.' "Snape is of no concern to me, nor is the ministry, we both know that only two people really matter in the outcome of this war."

It was Dumbledore's turn to scrutinise Harry, the boy had spoken an arbitrary truth and he knew it. This of course meant that he understood the subtle manipulation he had tried to employ thus tried to change the subject. "You are, of course, right my boy," he said. "You and Voldemort, down to the last man if it must come to that, but must it?"

"Not if we all do our jobs properly. You've got a madman in your staff who can become so unhinged at times you would mistake him for a rabid animal," Harry accused, frustrated. Snape offered no value in education, surely that was obvious.

Dumbledore's gaze seemed to twinkle less as he replied, "both Severus and I have good reason for how we behave, I know you can no longer trust that, but it is the truth."

"You're right," Harry replied, "I can't. Will that be all headmaster?"

He made to stand in his chair, but Dumbledore said, "no, if you would indulge me, I have something to show you."

Harry stopped and regarded Dumbledore, 'another trick perhaps?' "What is it?"

Dumbledore stood too which had Harry preparing to pop his wand out of its holster, it never hurt to be too careful. If Dumbledore noticed the gesture, he made no comment on it as he walked over to a cabinet across the room. When he opened it, large chandelier-like shelves were filled with tiny vials, swirling with magic much like the prophecy did. Dumbledore did not go for the vials though, a circular bowl in the centre of the triptych was his focus as he picked it up from its sides and brought it over to the desk.

"This Harry," he started to explain, "is a pensieve. It allows us to traverse the realm of the past through memory. Much like a photo captures an instant, a pensieve captures any length of time to be viewed at a later date."

"That's why Slughorn is important, in his mind somewhere is a memory of Voldemort or rather Tom Riddle?" Harry asked as he grasped his potions professor's importance more completely. 'Surely this is about the Horcruxes, perhaps he knows where one or even a few are. Daphne's right we need to get to this information first. Whoever controls this memory could control the opposition to Tom Riddle.'

"Well deduced, Horace has made many mistakes in his lifetime but to offer aid to Tom Riddle was one he has struggled to reconcile." Dumbledore walked back over to the cabinet and pulled two vials from the shelf. After inserting the memory into the pensieve and watching the clear liquid turn misty and resemble a vortex, Dumbledore turned his eyes to Harry and said, "if you so wish, you are about witness a young Tom Riddle well underway on his journey to becoming a dark wizard but not yet a lord."

Harry figured that there was no way he would be able to steal such items from the old wizard so he accepted the offer and plunged into the basin. They watched Tom Riddle confront his Uncle Thorfin Gaunt and then later frame him for the death of his family. The world spun around Harry as though he were apparating as the destitute house of Gaunt turned into the office of Horace Slughorn in the 1940's. They watched as Tom Riddle questioned Slughorn incessantly about Horcruxes and failed to garner any information from the portly professor besides what they were. As soon as Tom had exited the classroom, Harry and Dumbledore were evicted from the memory and fell back into their seats to recover from the slight vertigo that came with the experience.

Harry was the first to recover as he said, "how was Gaunt relevant? So what if Voldemort has been a murderous bastard for fifty or sixty years it makes no difference."

Dumbledore opened a locked drawer in his desk and pulled out a book and a ring. The book was most strange as it sported a rather large hole in the middle, fraying around the circumference of the whole as though it had been impaled. The ring too was abnormal, strange markings all over it which reminded Harry of the rings Damien and Sirius wore for their own respective houses.

"It makes a most significant difference," Dumbledore affirmed. "May I present the Gaunt family ring and Tom Marvolo Riddle's diary. Two horcruxes, both destroyed powers greater than their own, although as you know, they can put up quite a fight." He had gazed at his blackened hand more intently than Harry had seen since he saw the headmaster inflicted with it.

Harry looked at the scar he had on his right arm and absently agreed. "If you're showing me this then that means we haven't gotten them all, how many can he even make?" Harry asked, trying to act surprised at the knowledge of Voldemort's horcruxes existing.

"That's where we hit the brick wall for you see only perhaps Voldemort and one other could tell us such vital information."

"Slughorn.."

"Precisely," Dumbledore intoned. "The memory we viewed today was a fake, designed to put me off the scent of his failures. How you go about getting the memory is of course up to you, but I would appreciate my professor's not being roughed up more than necessary."

Thinking about the man's desperate attempts to corner him, Harry figured that violence wouldn't come into it at all. "I've got an idea on how to get that memory but it's going to take time. Have you got any more memories that may tell us something about the location or identity of these… horcruxes?"

"I have the memory of a house elf and the memory of myself meeting Tom Riddle before Hogwarts and after his time here, but I will show you those–"

"No, that took barely five minutes. Just show them now in case something happens," Harry reasoned. The curse on the old wizard's hand was looking nastier day by day and Harry was sure it would be fatal at some point.

Dumbledore refused, however, and said, "I have my contingencies should I unexpectedly leave this realm for the next great adventure."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and felt a headache coming along. "I swear to Merlin, if your contingency is Snape, I'm going to lose my mind." Dumbledore seemed to grow more tired, and his pitying eyes reached Harry's angry ones. "No, I refuse to accept that your double agent is your only confidant. Show me the memories or I'll simply go my own way."

"That's not much of a threat Harry," Dumbledore said softly.

"It is to you."

And Harry was right, Dumbledore's grand plan hinged on the fact that Harry followed a pre prepared path. Straying into the wild meant Dumbledore lost his control of the situation and that was simply unacceptable. Dumbledore knew it, but more importantly Harry knew it. He knew Dumbledore was manipulating him, trying to tease him with the fruit of knowledge to make him dance in tune. As long as that served his own purposes, that was fine, but to withhold such important knowledge from him was not something Harry was about to let slide.

Dumbledore sighed, "you have become better at reading me Harry, a skill that can be quite bothersome at times. I have Miss Greengrass to thank, I presume?"

"She helps, but maybe you're just becoming predictable."

The two stared each other down, a few years ago Dumbledore would not have allowed such defiance, but he could feel his age more keenly than ever. His bones ached, his brain hurt and he was so tired. To give up the reins so late in his life was an impossible task but small pockets of weakness such as now would prove to be what kept impossible at bay.

"Very well," Dumbledore agreed. He stood and gathered three more memories from the cabinet and returned to his desk. "I warn you, the boy you see in this memory is disturbing and had I known…" he trailed off, his eyes boring into nothing. After a moment he shook his head and poured the contents of the memories into the pensieve and the two submerged their heads into the bowl.

Harry watched as a young Tom Riddle was scolded by Dumbledore in Wool's orphanage and admitted to being able to speak parseltongue. He then watched an old woman die before giving up the locations of both Helga Hufflepuff's cup and Salazar Slytherin's locket. Finally, he watched a dark-arts-addled Voldemort return to the beloved school of Hogwarts and be denied a position in the teaching staff as D.A.D.A professor.

"That," Harry said, coming out the pensieve huffing and puffing, "that was a lot to take in."

"Indeed," Dumbledore said sadly. "As you could see, the boy was awfully scarred before he was given the chance to be something special. The year he came to me asking to be a professor I could almost smell the taint of the dark arts on him and those he arrived with."

"Of course, he was scarred," Harry said in a moment of clarity. "He was likely bullied, abused and broken by muggle children until he learnt to fight back with his anger. By the time he got to Hogwarts he wasn't broken; he was an apex predator. His power easily allowed him to cultivate a following, especially in Slytherin."

"This is all… very insightful, Harry." Dumbledore complimented warily, fearing he wasn't done.

"Hardly," Harry rebutted and gave Dumbledore a hard stare. "Tom Riddle and Harry Potter had much in common, except when the bullies came for me, I didn't turn to face them, I hid and ran," Harry said angrily. "But no longer, fortunately for all of us, I have developed a moral compass before choosing to fight. Tom Riddle wasn't given such a chance."

"It sounds like you pity him Harry," Dumbledore prodded gladly.

"I pity the boy who was forced into the fight from day one and was neglected by those who said they cared but didn't, remind you of someone?"

"That's not fair Harry," Dumbledore protested. "Grindelwald was on the rise; I couldn't neglect such a threat to the Wizarding World." As soon as the words left the headmaster's lips, he realised the hypocrisy that he just so vehemently tried to argue with. "Well played my boy, well played," he acknowledged, "I apologise for the part in your mistreatment, the idealistic man still inside me wishes to see the best in everyone even when there is none to see."

Harry shook his head, "I don't want your apology, I want your cooperation. Share the information you so closely guard, for one day you will not be here and despite your great achievements it will be your actions now that I will ensure are remembered."

Having said what he wanted to say and the information he wanted gathered, Harry stood and said his goodbye to the headmaster who was sitting in his chair contemplating what he had told him. Harry strode from the room quickly with sleep on his mind, conversations with Albus Dumbledore had that effect on many.

September 8th

9:09pm

Hogwarts, Scotland

Daphne

Daphne stood outside the Gryffindor common room in the hall of moving staircases. The many strange looks she got from Gryffindors coming in and out of where they slept both amused and annoyed her. She subjected herself to such scrutiny because she was waiting for Harry to join her so they could walk to Slughorn's office together and go over their plan to charm him (not in the magical way… yet?).

She had half a mind to walk into the lion's den with the next person to open the portrait but as she was entertaining the idea the person she was waiting on decided to show his face. Harry stepped out of the Gryffindor common room in a nice white button-down shirt and cream dress jacket. With black jeans to compliment the outfit, Daphne could admit it worked well enough as an outfit.

She could see the hopeful look on his face, so she divulged her thought process, "muggle but contemporary enough. You look… acceptable."

He cracked a grin because he knew that was high praise enough from Daphne. "Well, you ah, you look great," he said referring to the outfit she chose. Emerald green, long cape gown inspired by 1920's French muggle fashion. She had seen newspaper clipping of a famous British auror's wife wearing something similar in the 40's.

'The ensemble is, admittedly, a little over the top but if he's the creepy professor type then it could work in our favour. Besides, I've been waiting for an opportunity to wear this for months,' she thought.

"I know," she said simply but enjoying the praise. "Let's go, the supper starts in fifteen and we haven't figured out what angle to play."

Daphne took off in the direction of the staircase going down, heels clacking on the stone floor. Harry raced to catch up to her before bringing up their objective. "He's a people pleaser as far as I can see, quick to forgive if you've got something to offer so I imagine the situation isn't entirely delicate if we just don't mention horcruxes until he's primed properly."

Daphne hummed in appreciation, "room for mistakes is good but let's not plan on using it. What else do we know?"

Harry nodded and continued, "we know he likes to collect high value people meaning he has a finer taste than others."

"That's good, I can acquire some expensive bottles of… well of anything really. We just need to know his tastes."

"That's good," Harry said, pleased. "Oh!" he exclaimed, "crystallised pineapple, the bloke loves the stuff."

"Hmm that's more material stuff, useful but not very substantial," Daphne lamented. 'We can butter him up all we want, if he's paranoid enough to alter memories for Dumbledore's use we're going to need more than a nice bottle of red and some sweets.'

"My mother," Harry divulged, gathering her attention. "He seemed to have a particular fondness for her which stemmed from some kind of act of kindness. I could be wrong though, but he was sad to hear her name mentioned when I spoke to him before term."

"Now that is what I'd call substantial," Daphne exclaimed excitedly. "Do you have any photos of her in the slug club?"

A pained wince flashed across his face which put a halt to her excitement. "I don't think so, I could ask Remus or Sirius, but I do know Slughorn has at least one."

She nodded and quickly replied, "I'm sorry, that was insensitive."

Harry once again hid a pained look behind his eyes and forced a smile, "it's okay, you were excited, I understand."

The rest of the trip was done in silence, it only took the two of them three minute to reach a door on the sixth floor that read 'Professor H. Slughorn's Office' and a list of visiting hours for potions advice. Daphne stepped forward and knocked thrice as instructed by Slughorn a few days prior and the two of them could hear the man jump out of his seat in the room to open the door.

"Harry!" he greeted enthusiastically, giving him a firm handshake, "I'm so glad you could make it." Turning to Daphne he continued, "and the lovely Miss Greengrass, thank you for passing along the invitation and might I say you've out done yourself with that gown tonight. Why, I would say that is an old French classic?"

"Thank you, professor, and yes it is, if you ask me they can be more comfortable than long flowing robes," Daphne replied conspiratorially, hoping Slughorn would take the exchange lightly.

"Oh ho don't mention that to some of your peers, I imagine they'd go quite nationalistic and please in these meetings it's just Horace that goes for you too Harry," Slughorn joked good naturedly.

'So, we can confirm light-hearted and rather people forward,' she thought as Horace led them into an abnormally large professor's office with two fireplaces, couches, a large round with at least a dozen chairs. Sat at those chairs were people she easily recognised; Blaise, Hermione, Neville, Ginny Weasley, Theodore Nott, Cormac McClaggen, Flora and Hestia Carrow, Melinda Bobbin and Marcus Belby.

'Half these people are here for their relative's talents not their own. I'd argue Ginny, Hermione, Harry, and myself are the only one's here for their own merit,' Daphne figured as she took in her classmates. As they took their seats, Horace went around the room for everyone's sake, but Daphne zoned him out. 'So not only is this for up and comers, but he also wants to network himself through the students, that's a brilliant life plan for someone who wants to live comfortably.'

Dinner was served swiftly, as it was already past time for the usual dinner many of the guests dug in eagerly. Horace would make idle chatter with people here and there to keep everyone engaged however much of what he said had an undercurrent of tone of testing.

"Tell me Cormac, do you see anything of your uncle Tiberius these days?" Slughorn asked the seventh year Gryffindor.

"Yes sir," he replied with a hint of pompousness. "In fact, I'm meant to go hunting nogtails with him and the minister of magic over the holidays."

Daphne watched Horace's pupils dilate at the information. 'I wonder if he suspected that before inviting him or if it was because of his uncle,' she mused. 'Either way, he loved that surprise.'

"Oh! Well give them both my regards then," he said before moving on to the next person. "What about you Belby? For those of you who don't know, Marcus' uncle invented the wolfsbane potion, is he working on anything else?"

The boy in question was shovelling food into his face and answered with his mouth half full, "dunno, 'im and dad don't get on. Probably 'cause dad says potions is rubbish and the only worthwhile potion is a stiff one at the end of the day."

Slughorn's face twisted for but a moment before he was back to his jovial self. Daphne caught the expression and thought, 'I guess we won't be seeing much of Belby in these meetings moving forward.'

"What about you Miss Granger, what exactly is it your parents do in the muggle world?" Slughorn asked with a distinct interest.

Hermione looked around nervously before replying in a quiet voice, "um well, both my parents are dentists, they tend to people's teeth."

"Fascinating," Slughorn exclaimed. "Is this considered a dangerous profession?"

"Generally, no," Hermione said. "Although it is considered a fairly respected profession, think specialised healer."

"Marvellous, truly marvellous." Slughorn allowed himself some time to eat which gave Daphne an opportunity to speak to Harry.

"So, I think it's obvious what type of man he is," Harry whispered.

Daphne nodded and replied, "he's more intelligent and ruthless than you realise. Did you catch the look he gave Belby?"

Harry scrunched his face up in confusion, "no but I can't imagine he was all too pleased to discover that Marcus was useless to him."

"Too right. I think you're going to have to pick up your potions game this year, it will help getting his good books."

Harry's face turned sour at the thought of such a task, "let's leave that up in the air for now."

"Miss Greengrass," Slughorn called, "how goes your father? I don't know if he told you this, but we used to play wizard's chess occasionally and boy could that young man read me."

"He's doing well, very busy as always. He's in talks with Eastern Asian businesses negotiating a deal to pick up a high percentage of trade for chomping cabbages," she lied easily.

Slughorn leaned forward in his seat, his eyes sparkling with opportunity. "Chomping cabbages, you say? That's a lucrative market, especially in this climate with it being a prime ingredient in skele-gro." Snapping out of his trance he smiled and said, "of course, we cannot ignore your own accomplishments, a very talented duellist you are set to become I hear."

"Thank you, professor," she said simply wondering where he was going to go with this.

"Oh no thanks needed my dear, just looking at the facts. I'm sure all of you are aware that Miss Greengrass managed to duel and defeat Bellatrix Lestrange, a criminal renowned for her ferocity, in late June." Daphne smiled and didn't bother correcting him, the added fame of the event was enough to offset the distaste she felt of taking credit for other people's achievements. It also helped that Harry was smiling and not grimacing at Slughorn's praise of her. "Tell me, do you have any plans to enter the duelling circuit after school?"

Slughorn feigning ignorance was starting to become a pattern, or, he had a lucky streak. "It's in the cards, I've also considered taking over my father's business full time earlier on."

"Ambitious, very ambitious," Slughorn said absently, his mind generating all the possibilities of adding the Greengrass family to his collection.

Daphne smirked at Harry who did a discrete thumbs up in response. She saw Slughorn recover and move onto the Carrow twins, but she noticed he made several more glances in her direction throughout the dinner.

Daphne couldn't help but be pleased with herself as she thought, 'gotcha,' and ate the provided dessert thinking of more ways to reel in the cunning professor.

A/N: Double digits baby! Absolutely flying through these chapters at times and this was a longer one too. I've had a massive burst of motivation and inspiration in the past few days for my more creative endeavours like this and my stream.

The old headmaster makes a return. Idk if it's clear at this point but this isn't meant to be a Dumbledore bad and everyone must bash him fic and if it comes off that way then it is my bad. I'm trying to represent Dumbledore as a flawed man who is making too many mistakes as his life comes to an end. At the end of the day he doesn't have the heart for conflict unless he feels he is directly involved. He would much rather approach the war with a chess player mindset and that may sound cliche but if we look at canon it is true. The only time he steps in and actually fights for the cause is in book 5 to save Harry which was entirely unplanned. Not wanting to be a part of the conflict is fine (kind of) but with so much power he shouldn't expect to lead without getting in the dirt with the others. Harry calls him out on his failures so often because he continues to make them. There still has been no effort to change his ways unless pressured or threatened as seen here. At his core Dumbleodre does want the best for everyone but he has certainly lost his way

Now, Daphne's cape gown is a green variant of Leta Lestrange's in FB:CoG. I absolutely love the outfit. It is so cool and I figured it was pretty high society but separate from the robes and dresses of pureblood culture. I spent like thirty minutes trying to figure out what she would wear and the I saw an edit of Leta on instagram and instantly went for that. It was nice to focus on only Daphne for this chapter. Often I have Daphne and another character bouncing back and forth (mainly Harry) but this was primarily focused on her analysis and scheming which was fresh and fun to write.

This week's recommendation is Contractual Invalidation by R-dude. It's kinda creepy with some blackmail at the start if you think about it but it does turn into a very fun story with a cunning or lucky Harry and an exasperated Daphne getting dragged into his chaotic life. Post-war AU EWE

Hope you enjoyed :)

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