Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the related characters. They are the sole property of J.K. Rowling.
The Sorcerer's Scar
It was a beautiful July morning when Harry Potter woke with a start in his bed at Number Four Privet Drive. He had been having a most peculiar dream. In it, he, Harry, had kissed Draco Malfoy, his best friend Ron had died due to a rather unfortunate accident with a chocolate frog, Harry's ex-girlfriend Ginny had become a sex goddess and taken to writing dirty stories about her friends, and most disturbing of all, his friend Hermione had started a sexual relationship with Severus Snape, the man who had supposedly killed Harry's mentor, Albus Dumbledore, however in the dream had been very fond of Andrew Lloyd Weber musicals. Altogether a very, very strange dream. Harry got out of bed carefully and quietly, not wanting to wake anyone. Ron and Hermione were both asleep on his floor. They had been staying with Harry at his aunt and uncle's house for a week now and today was the day that they all would be leaving, never to return.
Harry navigated awkwardly around them and then made his way downstairs for a strong cup of tea. Today, Harry and his two best friends had plans to leave number four Privet Drive and go to Godric's Hollow on their quest to find, and eliminate, Lord Voldemort. Harry was just thinking how unfortunate it was that they had to leave on this day, seeing as it was his eighteenth birthday, when he heard a knock on the front door. Before Harry could even move to answer it, both Ron and Hermione had apparated into the kitchen. Neither Ron nor Hermione had been sleeping well lately, but not wanting to worry Harry, they had pretended to sleep. In actuality, neither had been asleep when Harry had snuck around them to get to the kitchen, but Harry had pretended not to notice the lack of snoring.
"Don't worry, Harry, we'll answer it just in case it's Voldemort," said Ron in a hushed tone. At the last word, he shuddered slightly. Ron had been trying very hard to get used to saying the Dark Lord's name; however, seventeen years of training not to was making it very difficult.
Ron and Hermione both moved slowly toward the hall, wands at the ready, to encounter whoever it was that was knocking. Harry heard them creep down the hall towards the door. He heard the sound of two locks, a chain, and several protective spells being lifted. He heard the door open slowly, and then he heard Ron and Hermione shout in unison,
"What the hell!"
"Harry, come out here. You must see who's here," Harry heard Hermione shout to him.
Harry got up, very curious as to who had inspired such a reaction in his two friends. As he rounded the corner out of the kitchen, it all became clear. There, standing in the doorway, was none other than Albus Dumbledore. Though he had told no one, Harry knew that Dumbledore hadn't been killed. Earlier that summer, Harry's uncle Vernon's sister Marge had come to visit. Harry had been shocked to find out that Aunt Marge had married her neighbor, Colonel Fubster, but even more shocked to discover that Colonel Fubster was in fact Dumbledore in disguise. It seemed that about twenty years back, Dumbledore had gone on a vacation to the country and met Marge Dursley and fallen madly in love with her, hard as it is to believe. He had gone to see her at every given chance and altered her memories to erase his long absences. Furthermore, he had never drowned any of Marge's unwanted puppies, but given them to people who did want them. Dumbledore had asked Harry to keep his secret and Harry had agreed. But now Dumbledore was back. Why? Harry couldn't think of a single reason for him to return. Perhaps something was wrong with Marge and he wanted to tell Uncle Vernon. Maybe he had realized what an awful woman he had married and returned to find a way out. Maybe he just wanted to say hi. One thing was for certain, he was back.
"Hello Colonel," said Harry, a wry grin on his face.
"What are you talking about--'Colonel'?" asked Ron. "It's Dumbledore. Or have you forgotten him already?"
"No Mr. Weasley. I believe Harry is referring to my assumed identity, Colonel Gordon Fubster," Dumbledore stated calmly. "You see, I am now married to his Aunt Marge."
Ron was taken aback. "Aunt Marge? You don't mean that old hag that Harry blew up a few years ago?"
"Mr. Weasley I have dealt with hags and I assure you Marge Dursley isn't one. She is, however, my wife and as such I would appreciate it if you would hold your tongue when speaking about her." Dumbledore had become a bit crankier in his "afterlife" and was beginning to sound like Professor McGonagall when he spoke.
"Why are you here," asked Harry before the argument could continue any further.
"Why of course I am here to take you all back to Hogwarts," said Dumbledore as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It has come to my attention that you three are not intending on returning for your final year. This is simply unacceptable. Of course you must go back for your seventh year. If you do not, then none of you will be ready to face Voldemort when the time comes."
"But sir," implored Harry, "you said that I already knew everything I needed to know to face Voldemort when you visited last month."
"No, Harry. I said that I had nothing left to teach you. Not that there was nothing left for you to learn," said Dumbledore.
"Oh," said Harry. "Well alright then, I'll go back."
"Splendid. I shall accompany you to Diagon Alley to buy your new supplies." The former headmaster was back to his jovial old self and had seemingly forgotten his little tiff with Ron.
"Wait!" Hermione piped up. "How can you go to Diagon Alley? Won't people recognize you?"
"Well they would," replied Dumbledore, "if I looked like myself when I went in. What you're forgetting (which is not like you at all, I might add) is that I am a powerfully magical wizard and as such am able to alter my appearance."
"Oh right. How silly of me." Hermione blushed slightly. "Well, when should we go?"
"As soon as you are all ready," Dumbledore replied.
"I'm ready," Ron and Harry chimed in unison.
"Can I have just a few minutes to tidy up a bit," asked Hermione.
"Certainly," said Dumbledore kindly.
An hour later, Harry, Ron, and Dumbledore were still waiting for Hermione to "tidy up" and had gone through five cups of tea each. Finally, Hermione came down the stairs and they were ready to leave. Dumbledore left a note for Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, who were on vacation in Majorca, and they were off to Diagon Alley. Unfortunately, Dumbledore refused to use magic, as he was trying to cut back, and so the four of them were forced to take the underground. Interestingly, each and every one of them had a different reaction to the underground. Dumbledore was excited as he hadn't taken it in several years and rather enjoyed it. Ron was fascinated by it and reminded them all a little of his father. Hermione was scared due to a bad experience she had had on the underground involving a homeless man and a midget. Harry was just plain annoyed. It wasn't until after the tickets had been purchased and they had all boarded on their way for the Leaky Cauldron that Harry realized none of them had once looked at a map to find out how to get to their destination. Dumbledore had just gone up to the ticket counter and bought their tickets and then the four of them had gotten on.
"How do you know where we're going?" Harry asked as they sped along.
"Ah, I had hoped that one of you would ask that question," replied Dumbledore, mystically. "You see, back in 1943 when I was helping to defeat the dark wizard Grindelwald, better known as Adolph Hitler, I received a rather nasty wound on my left leg, just above my knee. It healed but left a very interesting looking scar. I never thought about it much until one day I decided to take the underground, just because I never had, and I noticed that the map of the underground was identical to my scar, and vice versa. See here."
At this he pulled up his cloak a ways so they could see the scar just above his left knee. It was indeed a perfect map of the underground; routes, schedules, and all. But then they all noticed something wrong. The train they should have been on didn't leave until 11:00, and they had boarded at 10:30.
"Oh dear," said Dumbledore, distantly. "Well, let's see. Where can we switch trains so that we're on the right one? Here? No, that won't work. Here? Yes, that will work quite well. All we have to do is get off at that stop, then get onto that train at 11:15, then transfer to that train at 12:00 and we should be there by 1:00. That's easy enough."
Dumbledore now had them all completely confused after pointing at tiny little lines and dots in his scar and muttering to himself, but as long as he knew where they were going, it didn't really matter.
About two and a half hours later, the four companions stood outside of the Leaky Cauldron. All had gone smashingly until Hermione, who had been a little shaky the entire time, saw a midget walk through their car. She had completely lost it and crawled under her seat to hide. Harry, Ron, and Dumbledore had all tried to calm her down, but to no avail. Unfortunately, they still had forty-five minutes of ride time left, with no stops, so the three were pretty much stuck with a hysterical Hermione amidst a train car full of muggles. Not a fun trip. But now they were off of the underground and standing in front of the Leaky Cauldron.
Dumbledore had altered his appearance, just after getting off of the train, in a public restroom. He now looked like a tall teenage boy with long green hair and a blue beard that was French braided and tucked into his belt. He wore a bubblegum pink cloak and skateboarder shoes with pseudo-intellectual glasses and a black knockoff fedora. He was getting strange looks from every direction now, and some people were even starting to notice the pub, so the four decided they had better get inside.
After a long trip through Diagon Alley with Dumbledore AKA "The Jolly Green Giant," as he had introduced himself to anyone who asked, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had all of their new school things and were ready for their seventh and final year at Hogwarts. They stayed at the Burrow for the rest of the summer and had a wonderful time. Not one of them ever told a single soul about Dumbledore's little deception.
A/N: Harry's dream was based on the fic "Ten Habits of a Highly Effective Hermione" by jgurlpunkrck. I would like to thank her for the loan of her plot. I would also like to thank my beautiful and highly talented beta Gwenog Jones. She's amazing. Okay, you know what to do...
