NEW BLOOD INTERNATIONAL ACADEMY

Disclaimer: I own only the original characters in this story. All other characters belong to their creators.

Chapter Four

Solutions: Part 1b

The first thing Remus Lupin did upon arrival in merry ol' England was adjust the wards at Privet Drive. He didn't show himself to Harry (the old man had a nasty habit of dipping into his students' minds), but he refused to maintain the status quo of inaccessibility from his honorary godson. Besides, there was a murderer after the lad so preventing Remus access was ridiculous.

Not that anyone would realise Remus had done anything to the wards anyway. Magical Britain had long lost the ability to adjust spells or to even realise when their spells had been tampered with. In truth, each generation found itself re-learning the same spell repertoire as the previous without even the slightest variation or addition. It was sad really, yet rather fitting of a society that refused change.

The thirty-three year old Werewolf had (with great distaste) re-donned the mask of his former self realising that's level of underestimation that came with it would be useful. However, if anyone could see underneath the brown patched shirt Remus wore they would be rather surprised. Occupying the upper right-hand corner of his back was a beautiful tattoo of a white fallow deer against a luscious green scenery. Remus was very proud of that tattoo as it marked the end of his Clan training and consequential mastery of set Clan knowledge. That it hid a set of seals and runes that both maintained the illusion of a poor physique, and generated an aura of submissiveness, and overall amicability was just an added bonus. The seals and runes underneath only incorporated one of the key lessons from his espionage training: let people see what they expected to see rather than what was actually there.

What was indeed troublesome however, was Dumbledore's requirement to take the wolfsbane potion. For one thing it was addictive and created by a man that had admitted to hating Werewolves. For another, the potion worked by separating the wolf side from the human during transformation and locking it away until the next morning. This enraged the wolf part making the re-emerging with the human part extremely painful. With every transformation that the Were made use of wolfsbane, transforming became more and more painful. Yet documented studies of the potion's effects had concluded that missing even one dose resulted in a completely feral Werewolf with no ability to separate friend or pack from foe. A few of the patients after long-term usage of the potion even experienced a split in personality between man and wolf. It was a banned substance in most countries outside of Europe.

Dumbledore wanted him to take it. It was a requirement to teach at a school Remus had no desire to teach at so he could finally meet his godson and protect Harry from his former best friend. He had to hand it to Dumbledore. The Headmaster really knew how to piss people off. If Remus truly wanted to interact and protect Harry from the betrayer he had to play the old man's games. Hopefully the short amount of time he would be taking it would cause no problems.

Then Harry's third year happened and Remus actually lost his famed self control because he forgot to take the stupid potion. Whilst in the back of his mind Remus knew something about losing control was odd, he ignored that now much softer voice. He should have really just listened to his instincts.

Harry Potter sighed as he stared tiredly at the new summer timetable his aunt had at some point before his arrival taped to his wall. Aunt Petunia, as usual, had had a stack of muggle textbooks waiting for him this summer. He was allowed one week to himself before muggle summer school bootcamp, Petunia-style, was unleashed. Harry didn't bother to complain since complaining and attempted reasoning for the last two summers had only made his aunt angrily purse her lips tightly and Harry was made to cram a year's worth of material in one summer anyway. Uncle Vernon would not interfere (the man had the survival instincts of a grey wolf) and had long since left the boys' educational decisions to his relentless wife.

Aunt Petunia had not wanted Harry to go to Hogwarts. The realisation had hurt Harry terribly after Hagrid had informed him he was magical. Harry and Petunia might not have been as close as her nephew secretly wished, but Harry had always known Aunt Petunia to act in his best interest. That she would reject such a huge aspect of himself had shocked and hurt him, and had damaged some of the trust that existed between him and his relatives. The time after Hagrid's reveal but before Hogwarts had been filled with tension within the family. Uncle Vernon stayed out later and later most nights. Dudley, recovering from his surgery, barely spoke to him though Harry had caught his cousin giving him wary glances laced with fear that made Harry extremely uncomfortable. He couldn't help feeling guilty, though the only reason Hagrid gave his cousin that pigtail was because he tried to eat Harry's cake before Harry himself. Dudley had always had an unhealthy love of sweets and Aunt Petunia did regular unannounced searches of his room looking for hidden stashes.

The cousins had had a rough ride those early years before they had settled down into a somewhat amicable relationship. Dudley had clearly resented having to share his parents, and Harry was so unusual, even as a toddler, that he couldn't help but receive a lot of attention from the adult Dursleys. Unbeknownst to the adults, Dudley had started picking on his smaller cousin, even going so far as to threaten any children interested in becoming friends with 'the freak'. It was the day that Aunt Petunia found out about the bullying, and then had tanned Dudley's behind for starting some stupid game call Harry Hunting, that the cousins finally called a truce. Since then Dudley had settled down into maybe not a best friend but still someone Harry felt comfortable calling a friend.

Finally, after two weeks of awkward conversations and tense silences, Harry gathered his courage and quietly apologized to his cousin. He truly thought Hagrid had gone overboard and that the giant had probably forgotten to take the tail off before leaving. His cousin had just pursed his lips in a move very reminiscent of his mother before glaring at his cousin for a good five minutes. Harry fidgeted, trying not to meet Dudley's eyes and flushing horribly.

"That Wizarding World of yours had better have very good candy!" his cousin had declared at last with all the solemn seriousness of an eleven year old. The two then stared at each other in the quiet following Dudley's demand before subsequently breaking down into "manly" giggles. And all was right between the cousins again.

Harry wished it had been that easy with Aunt Petunia. His aunt...Aunt Petunia won't even look at him. She did not speak nor interact nor acknowledge Harry in any way. It was like he wasn't there. He had seen her do this with Uncle Vernon or with Dudley on the occasion either had displeased her greatly but this was the first time Harry was experiencing it for himself. By the time the morning came to leave for Hogwarts Harry was almost ready to tell his aunt he won't go just so she could stop ignoring him. It was a terrible feeling to be treated as invisible. But before Harry even gave it some proper thought, Uncle Vernon had shuffled him and his things into the car and off they had gone leaving a madly waving Dudley behind. It had been difficult to ignore the sharp pain in his heart when he realised that Aunt Petunia hadn't even bothered to get out of bed.

Thankfully, after watching him very closely for a week upon his return from first year, his aunt had been back to her old self. It was all very confusing, but Harry was really grateful whatever problem his aunt had with him was gone. He wasn't sure how he would have dealt with things if she had still been treating him as Mr. Invisible, but he was not sure this time he would have put a mysterious magical world above his relatives' disapproval. After the exhilarating feeling of actually going to a world spoken of only in fairytales had died down, Harry had found the Wizarding World a bit...disappointing. For one thing there wasn't much to it. Well in Britain anyway. Taking in Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley, Hogsmeade and Hogwarts that was it. There weren't many games or activities either and Harry couldn't count the number of times he was just plain bored. Maybe that had been why he was so quick to get into all of these adventures? There just didn't seem to be anything else to do but that year's adventure, quidditch, the occasional chess game and studying. He supposed he could study but Harry was in the top five of his year without even trying. This was despite being sabotaged in potions half the time and being hated by that teacher.

Truthfully Harry found Aunt Petunia's summer study nightmares to be more challenging. He really didn't understand Hermione's maniac behaviour towards studying, it wasn't as if the school work was hard or heavy. Though he suspected that with Hermione it might be a similar problem to his own of not feeling challenged enough. There were many times this year that Harry had glanced at his female best friend in class to find her mask of perfect student slipping enough to show a rather bored expression. Oh you had to know her very well to see it, but Harry had been noticing Hermione's mask slipping more and more over the years. He could understand. Instead of becoming increasingly difficult, Harry found the schoolwork becoming easier and easier. As if to counteract this issue, Hogwarts teachers piled more work on the students. He couldn't understand how that was supposed to solve things? Most of the time he felt like a form five secondary schooler being given a huge amount of primary school work. It did not make the work harder, only more tedious and boring. If he felt this way he couldn't even begin to imagine how Hermione felt.

Hermione was one of those rare geniuses that came once every six generations or so. The type that governments told schools to be on the look out for and extremely top universities scouted in order to tempt them into attending their schools. If she had remained in the Muggle World, Harry had no doubt that Hermione would be doing university work right now whilst her parents dealt with offers from just about everyone who was anyone. Instead, she was in a world where it seemed that it was rare to find a true genius. For all that there was a house of the smart, it was very obvious to Harry that Hogwarts' teachers had no idea how to handle his best friend. None offered Hermione extra work (or at least more difficult work even), or thought of offering her to skip a year or two. Some, like Snape, even sneered at her for her advance knowledge. They allowed the students to call her names, heck Snape, a teacher, calls her a know-it-all all the time! In class! They basically let her brain go to waste which Harry thought secretly was kinda sad. They left her to be bored and if there was one thing geniuses hated it was being bored. That and stupid people. Unfortunately for Hermione, Hogwarts provided a huge quantity of both.

Breaking out of his contemplation on Hermione, Harry's mind wandered to the letter he had received at the end of his third year. Shockingly arriving by courier instead of by owl, Harry had received a letter to attend another magical school called New Blood International Academy. The school had stated in a clean, completely understandable way what it was about, why he received a letter at this time and the courses available. Harry had been suitably impressed. New Blood's acceptance letter alone put Hogwarts' letter to shame and the courses offered had shocked Harry to his core. Wasn't Hogwarts a 'premiere' magical school? They didn't even have three-quarter of the courses New Blood offered! What had interested Harry though was Aunt Petunia's reaction.

Petunia Dursley had been just as surprised as Harry was. She read both the letter and the booklet that came with the breakdown of what was learnt in each subject and couldn't help but wonder if Lily had ever received a similar letter but had the memory erased. If she had received one then she must have never shown their parents. The little fool probably instantly declined, afraid to leave her little friends. Petunia couldn't imagine her parents turning down this kind of school, especially since they had scholarships.

Lily had never known how difficult it had been financially for their father to send her to that crackpot school. Oh she knew money was difficult, but her sister always had a way of ignoring any difficulties that might arise for anyone trying to assist her. Their mother did not help with Lily's delusion of grandeur. Always catering to her on her holidays with them like she was some sort of tourist, scurrying around trying to make the old weather beaten house look like something it could never be, trying so very very hard not to be an embarrassment.

The mere fact that this school offered both normal and magical subjects, and that parents could visit whenever they liked, would have greatly relieved their parents. Mother, in particular, had felt rather frightened of the increasing emotional distance with her younger daughter. Upon viewing what was taught in the Magical Ethics course, Petunia felt that this class alone would be worth the trouble of sending the boy. She had always felt that Wizards were too quick to take out their wands when angered or when things didn't go their way. Even a seventeen year old Lily once, in the heat of an argument, had pulled her wand on her own mother. The instant horror that had crossed her sister's face when she realised what she had just done had let her family know she had never intended the action. However, Petunia had privately always thought pulling a wand on a person should never have become so natural that it was automatic. Harry would do well to learn this.

Harry went back to Hogwarts for his fourth year seriously contemplating going to a different school. He had been unable to ask Hermione what she thought or whether she too received a letter. He had been unable to ask his godfather, official and unofficial whether they had heard of New Blood International Academy. He had to admit the security spell on the letter was incredible. He couldn't even write any of the magical courses listed down! Then his name had come out of the goblet and Harry was forced to compete in a brutal tournament known for its high death rates. Then his regular end-of-year brush with death and watching his school mate murdered...Harry was almost certain that if he could get away with it he wasn't coming back. He had until the 31st of May if he wanted a 'taste' of this other school during the summer and 31st August if he was confident on starting straight away.

So here he sat on the first day of summer hols after fourth year staring at his summer timetable and gathering his courage to speak to his aunt. He wasn't sure he could get away with leaving Hogwarts or even Magical Britain. He was the Boy Who Lived and Voldemort had just regained his body. Dumbledore was politically powerful and might not take kindly to losing his direct control over his golden boy. Harry didn't even want to think about the Ministry of Magic. The Minister might be a moron but Harry couldn't see him supporting the Boy Who Lived attending a non-British magical school that actually taught muggle subjects! Yet here Harry was contemplating how he could convince his relatives that he wanted to transfer. Taking a deep breath he got up and went downstairs to find his aunt reading one of her homemaker magazines and his uncle eating a sandwich.

"Aunt Petunia? Uncle Vernon?" the boy called nervously. The two looked up to see their nephew with an anxious look on his face.

"Yes" replied Petunia whilst placing her magazine on the table. Vernon didn't even bother to answer, just raising his right eyebrow in curiosity. The boy looked like he was going to throw up!

"Um...if I said that I didn't want to go to Hogwarts anymore would that be ok?"

Stunned looks met this question. Recovering first, Vernon narrowed his eyes at the boy.

"What are you up to child? You practically skipped around whilst surrounded by happiness filled with sparkles and unicorn ponies when you were told you were going to that crackpot school. What's with this sudden change of heart?"

Meeting his uncle and aunt's eyes Harry steeled himself.

"I want to go to another school."

Another silence met this statement.

Crossing her legs and leaning back casually in her chair, Petunia Dursley stared at her nephew with a sharp calculating eye. Slowly, very slowly, a lazy smirk made its way onto her face. Harry thought she looked a bit like a shark that had just smelt blood.

"Defying Albus Dumbledore" she murmured in a low amused voice. "What brought this on?"

Hesitating slightly Harry launched into a re-telling of his Hogwarts experience year one to four. He kept his eyes on the kitchen cabinet in case he lost his nerves especially when he got to this year and the graveyard. At the end of his oral autobiography, Petunia was so white that the veins in her neck stood out and Vernon was completely purple. Suddenly the man stood up from his chair, the sudden movement done with such force that the piece of furniture fell breaking off one of it's legs. Slamming his hand on the table he addressed his wife in a low furious voice.

"I told you that man is a scam artist! I told you! Pretending to be a Headmaster! If he was a real Headmaster he would be dismissed already! No, there's something more going on here Pet! That man doesn't have good intentions. You saw the letters he kept on sending us and the letter he left with the boy! That man wrote that letter in order for us to resent the child! He has some grand plan for him! I refuse to believe that man doesn't know what's going on in that school! It's impossible for a school boy to be able to figure these things out or always stumble onto these things but the Headmaster of the school never thought of it or ever encountered anything in his rounds. That's point blank ridiculous!"

Harry gaped at his uncle. Well. He didn't expect that reaction. Harry honestly had never seen his uncle so upset. Now that he thought of it though Uncle Vernon had a point. It was said that Dumbledore had a sixth sense when it came to dark magic and seemed to know everything that went on in Hogwarts. How come he never knew about Quirrell's possession or Voldemort being at the back of his head? Especially when he sat by the man in the staff room, or in his office or even during meals. How come he didn't suspect anything? The man had a phoenix why wouldn't it alert it's master that there was dark magic clinging behind Quirrell's head? Then there was the diary. How did Fawkins know to bring the hat with the sword at the moment he needed it? Surely the phoenix didn't pop in with Hogwarts artifacts for anyone who was in trouble and said a good word about Albus Dumbledore? If he did then where the hell was he during the war? Why didn't he pop in every time someone was in danger? Harry could forgive the third year since the dementors were the ministry's fault and no one knew Sirius was innocent but this year...this year...how could Dumbledore be fooled for an entire year? Wasn't Moody an extremely close old friend of his? Slowly horror crept up on him. Harry had already figured out that the old man was only pretending to care but this was taking things up several levels. Albus Dumbledore suddenly seemed an extremely dangerous individual.

"He's not going back there Petunia!" Uncle Vernon continued in a more normal voice, calming down slightly at the sight of his pale wife.

"I concur" said a still very shaken Petunia. Harry felt guilty for having caused her such distress.

Turning towards the boy Petunia attempted to get a hold of herself. Harry was here in front of her. He was alive and Petunia had yet to break the promise she had made over her sister's cold corpse. The promise to provide willing care and protection until the boy became a man. Right now the only way to protect the boy was to get him as far away from that crazy Dumbledore and the even crazier newly arisen Dark Lord as she could physically manage. A plan started to form in her head.

"Which school are you thinking about? New Blood?" she asked Harry. Upon his affirmation Petunia gave a nod of approval.

New Blood seemed very secure. You couldn't even say it's name outside of immediate family. If the only way to the school's location were by these pendants then Dumbledore might not even know the first place to begin looking for Harry.

"Fill out the application form and send it in. Request the summer tryout of the courses you want to do."

Seeing the boy open his mouth to object she cut across him.

"It makes no sense to enroll you and then you can't keep up and fail out of the school. Then you'll be back at Hogwarts under Dumbledore's control anyway. Take the summer test run and see if the school lives up to its promise of high academic quality as well as its equal claim of high security. In this case extremely high security is a mandatory requirement but we must also think of the future. If this Voldemort is back then he will come for you. Not if but when."

Peering at the pasty-looking boy Petunia gave him a sharp, cold, ruthless smile.

"And when he does Harry you make him regret it. Make him understand that more than just the Boy Who Lived or a Potter, you are an Evans. Make him cry when he realises what that means. Make him beg for mercy. Make him crawl for it. And then..." A hard look appeared in her eyes and at that moment Harry thought she never looked more frightening or more lovely.

"...slaughter him like the overweight pig that he is. And this time child, make sure he dies properly. "

Harry gulped as he stared at his aunt wide-eyed as a shiver of premonition slid down his spine. It was strange how this little speech from Aunt Petunia sounded more like a prophecy than Trelawney's. Uncle Vernon was quiet this entire time, a grim look on his face as he looked at them. He seemed to be silently agreeing. Harry didn't know what to make of this. He turned and headed upstairs without a word and she let him. He walked to his room and just sat on his bed in a daze. Glancing over at his desk to the application form Harry's eyes slowly gained a dangerous light. Never forget that you are an Evans, she said. He picked up the form and started to fill it. Ok then. Okay.