Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling created an entire universe. I decided to put on my space suit and go tweaking a few things in this universe of hers.
A/N: I just realised I forgot about the disclaimer in the previous chapter. Sorry.
(Chapter 2)
Harry had stayed under the tree for a very long time, thinking. It was so long, that two different guards had came and went, and Harry still showed no sign of budging. What he was thinking about, was how to get rid of his guards. He wanted to do something useful this summer, to help him defeat Voldermort. The ... words of that old bat Trelawney could not be ignored after all. Somehow, he felt that calling the contents of that little glass ball a 'prophecy' was ... weird.
It was as if someone, or something else, held the name 'Prophecy' and that name was hers alone. As a matter of fact, as he sat there thinking about how to go about doing things this summer, random things made no sense to him. He had thought about learning the Dark Arts, but an instinct, a feeling, a voice perhaps told him he would never be able to perform a Dark spell.
The word 'Dark' had also triggered a similar reaction to the word 'Prophecy' like there really was someone by that name. So had many other words, things, that people took for granted. He thought of his other summers, and he was led to the summer before his fourth year, in which he had left Privet Drive by floo. That led him to think about the fireplace, which led to the word 'Fire'. At that word, he was immediately reminded of someone with red hair, and an ego the size of 3000 soccer fields. The description seemed to fit Percy Weasley though.
At 'Fire', he thought of its opposite 'Water', which led to a woman whose features were blurred, but had distinctly blue hair, and an utterly calm personality, except when angered, she reminded people of the stormy churning oceans. The word 'Oceans' then led him to think about someone very similar to the blue-haired woman, obviously some relation of hers.
Then he thought of 'Earth', a man with mousy brown hair, and too tall for his own good. From 'Earth' came 'Air', who seemed like a carbon copy of Lavender Brown, with blond hair, blue eyes, and an utterly flirtatious attitude.
'Air' led to 'Thunder' and 'Lightning' and Harry knew instinctively that their two eldest children were 'Rain' and 'Cloud'. Then after that, random words began popping out. Like 'Time', which was followed by 'Age' then 'Hours', 'Minutes', 'Seconds' and 'Prophecy' once more. After that came 'Life' and its opposite 'Death', and then 'War' and 'Peace' followed by so many emotions his head almost split just from the information. Then came 'Hunter' and 'Huntress' and then every single species of animals ever known. Then repeated words came, 'Fire' and 'Earth, followed by 'Moon', then 'Sun' and 'Stars'.
Then came the simpler, lesser gods & goddesses, who ruled over either the lesser things or nothing at all, but were immortal and had god powers. Then, it all came to a stop, and returned back to the word 'Dark'. It showed a person, its features the clearest among all the others, as if she was standing right in front of him. She had slightly wavy blonde hair, and her brown eyes were filled with laughter as her smile seemingly lit up his surroundings. She was utterly beautiful.
Harry shook his head. He now had a huge headache, and his throat was very dry. 'I need a drink,' he thought, but as he started to shift, he noticed something weird. Sunk deep in his thoughts, he had not noticed, but his prickling scar had ... stopped prickling.
Something deep in him told him, that that was because Voldermort was gone, defeated by another. Harry shook his head, and continued getting up. It was impossible. The words out of that old dingbat had certified that.
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Dark had to admit. The Lord Voldermort, as she had finally found out his name, knew what to do to take over Britain. His plans were planned down to the last detail, and he knew what changes to make in case unknown factors blundered up his plan. Voldermort planned to attack a place called Diagon Alley, to bring down people's morale, as well as serve as a diversion as he sent other to hunt something in the mountains of Wales.
Further probing into the 'Dark Lord's memories showed the object in Wales. Dark froze in shock, startling the Inner Circle, who were telling her all they knew of their Lord's plans. The 'object' was a lightning bolt, capable of destroying entire worlds. It was something like a homing missile, a Muggle thing she had discovered from the Guide, and could only be fired once. It also happened to belong to Lightning.
Her eyes narrowed. What was one of Lightning's prized bolts doing on World Earth, Plane of Pawal, Dimension of Disoy? The Inner Circle shivered as power began to gather around their mistress. Then, she stood up abruptly. "All of you are dismissed. Follow your previous Lord's plans and do what you are ordered to, except anything that has to do with immortality, potions, hunting for things and the like. I don't need immortality in the very least. Now go!"
They hastily hurried out, and Dark looked at her surroundings. She snorted. Such a filthy place was not fit for an Exalted. She would have to amend that as soon as possible. Now, she had someone to contact. "My dearest shadows, guard the doors, and let none approach." the shadows hastened to obey.
"LIGHTNING! I WANT TO SEE YOU NOW!" There were a few moments of silence, and then, in a flash of lightning, she appeared. Her hair crackled with electricity and stood, her unnatural golden yellow eyes narrowed and filled with power. Her body was clothed in electric yellow. A sneer formed on her lips. "Well Dark, not less that 2 days, and you already needed help. What can I do for you?"
"Cut the pleasantries," Dark snapped. "I need to know something."
"What?" Lightning's tone was not one of friendliness.
"What is one of your prized lightning bolts doing here? The world where Light just happens to be?"
Lightning blinked, apparently not expecting that question. She then sniffed. "I have no idea what you are talking about."
Dark strode forth, never one of patience. The fact that she managed to tolerate 16 years of absolute no news of Light was a miracle in itself. She grabbed Lightning's upper arm and hissed, "Do you need me to show you what I am talking about?" and the next moment, the two Exalted were teleported to the cave which housed Lightning's bolt.
Lightning looked down at the hand that was still holding hers and hissed back, "Let go of me," as she sent a current of electricity running through her arm, forcing Dark to back off.
The bolt, shaped truly like a lightning bolt, was embedded in a rock, like Excalibur, the Sword in the Stone. Lightning approached and reached out a hand to pull it out. The bolt, recognizing its lost mistress practically hummed with energy at Lightning's touch.
"So this is where it went to."
Dark tapped her foot impatiently, "Mind explaining?"
Lightning shot a look of that promised death at Dark, yet answered nevertheless. "Years ago, I saw that Lord Voldermort was going to kill the body Light inhabited. In my haste to help Light, I sent a bolt at that self-proclaimed Lord. Of course, the bolt was more than enough, and I had to direct the majority of it somewhere else on the same world, plane, dimension. The bolt acted on its on and went somewhere else, only leaving a teensy bit behind. That bit destroyed Voldermort's body, leaving his spirit to wander. Have you seen Light yet?"
At Dark's nod, she continued, "The reason that scar of his is in the shape of a lightning bolt signifies he owes me his life. A favour of sorts."
Dark scowled, and she looked ready to kill. "You mean you knew where Light was all along?"
Lightning gave her a look of wide-eyed innocence. "Did I say that?"
Dark let off a growl before the shadows surrounding Lightning surge up and threatened to suffocate her. Lightning wield her bolt like a sword fending them off. When the shadows fell back to the ground, she was met by a sword of the darkest night, letting off black sparks. Her bolt reacted too slowly, and Dark slashed her throat, not enough to kill her, just to let off a little blood. Not stopping, Dark pulled back her sword, and stabbed Lightning through her stomach. Yanking the sword out in one smooth motion, Dark spat on the ground beside where Lightning lay, seriously injured, her yellow blood spilling out. "Treat that as a warning, next time I won't warn you."
Lightning, her pride wounded, threw her bolt like a spear, aimed straight at Dark's heart. Dark's sword came up and parried it, batting it away, embedding it into the stone wall. Dark turned her gaze at Lightning. "Seeing as you saved Light," she muttered to herself, and then raised her voice. "THUNDER! YOUR WIFE'S INJURED! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!" Not waiting for his arrival, Dark pulled the shadows over her and 'walked' back to Riddle Manor.
Appearing in Riddle Manor, Dark looked at her surroundings. A wave of her hand transformed Riddle Manor into a castle, dark and terrifying. It wasn't home, but at least it was much better.
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Harry's arrival back at the Dursleys was met by no one. It appeared Petunia had to take Vernon to the hospital, and she wasn't about to risk her Diddydumkins being in the same house as Harry with no form of protection.
Harry stalked to the kitchen and grabbed a cup, pouring water into it. As he took a drink, Moody whisked off his cloak beside him, and his wand jabbed into Harry's ribs. "What did I tell you kid? Constant Vigilance, if i were a Death Eater, you would be dead by now."
Harry raised an eyebrow, as he set his cup down. "What's in Grimmauld Place that no on can take down?"
"Mrs Black's portrait. What did I show you the first day you were in Grimmauld Place?"
"A picture of the original Order."
Moody's wand stopped jabbing him, and he asked. "I saw your family going out, with that uncle of yours clutching his nose and ribs. Know what's going on?"
Harry shrugged. "I might have accidentally punched his nose and ribs, but my memory's a little hazy."
Moody let off a harsh laugh, "Good for you kid. Punch a little harder and you'll incapacitate just about any wizard."
Harry just nodded. Moody eyed him, "Look kid, I know Black's death hit you hard. It's hit everyone hard. But you don't have to go off yourself."
Harry actually felt his head spin. "Off myself? When did I try to kill myself?"
"Tonks told us everything, If you are--"
"Tonks told you everything? Then you should know that was an accident! Bloody hell, I can't believe I'm having this conversation with my ex-professor in the Dursleys' kitchen!"
"Well, if you're sure," The look on Moody's face told him he wasn't.
"Listen, since you're here, what's Vol--" The end of Harry's question was cut off as an explosion blast open the Dursleys' front door.
"Shit," Moody cursed. "The wards haven't got the time to strengthen. Come on Potter, we're getting out."
"But--" But Moody had already whisked out his emergency portkey, a lighter, and "Virginity" got them out of there.
Harry managed to land on his feet somehow, as he shook his head to clear it. "Virginity? That was the best thing you people could think off?"
"Well," Moody said as he pushed Harry in front of him and towards the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, "we needed something we won't accidentally say after all."
Harry entered the kitchen with Moody, and was met with the faces of almost the entire Order, and the Weasley kids and Hermione crammed in a corner. Moody barked out, "There's an attack on Privet Drive. GO!" Almost everyone apparated at the same time, not bothering about how loud their crack was, almost deafening Harry's ears. "Molly, take care of Harry here. I need to know why Albus hasn't found out those wards of his have fallen."
"Of course Alastor," and Moody apparated out of there. It was then that Hermione descended upon Harry. "Harry! Oh my God, I thought it would be some time until we saw you again. I know you must be grieving over Sirius, but it isn't your fault. None of this is your fault. You can't keep your feelings bottled inside. You need to talk about your feelings and --" the rest of Hermione's rant was lost as Mrs Weasley gave him a hug of her own.
"Oh my dear boy, we haven't seen you for two days and you've already grown so tall. Magical growth spurts, nasty business. And where's your glasses? You said once you were blind without them?"
Harry blinked and then before he could say he didn't need them anymore, his body did something else totally. His hand fished his glasses out of his pocket and he put them on. "I took them off for a while, and then the Death Eaters attacked." There was an awkward silence as Harry considered what made him distrust his friends, and what he considered as his own family.
Then, he realised where he was. Grimmauld Place, Sirius' home. He could feel the nightmare coming, and pushed it to the back of his mind. No, he would not go there. The silence was broken by Ron. "Hey mate, it's only been two days eh? Thought it would be longer." At these words, Harry thought he saw a hint of anger in Ron's eyes. It was gone the next moment.
Harry almost found himself wishing, that he was back in Privet Drive.
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Dark lounged in her throne, as her followers gaped at their new surroundings. It was a meeting, in which every single Death Eater was present. The lower Death Eaters had just been informed of their new mistress.
Bellatrix, eager to please, stepped forward and said, "My Lady, we have launched an attack at No. 4 Privet Drive. Unfortunately, Harry Potter was not there."
In a flash, Dark sat upright and yanked Bellatrix towards her, so she was staring straight into her eyes. She hissed, "You launched an attack on who?"
"Ha-ar-rrry P-po-ott-tter, my Lady," Bellatrix stammered.
Dark's eyes filled with hatred, and a hand reached out to touch Bellatrix's face. Bellatrix immediately started screaming in pain. This frightened the rest of the Death Eaters. Bellatrix was one who liked having the Cruciatus placed on her. For her to scream like this, more than a few were shivering. Wormtail, who had been huddled in a corner, actually emptied his bowels, the stench spreading far.
Dark's hand retracted and dropped Bellatrix on the floor, where she still continued screaming. An impatient and angry Dark waved her hand, silencing Bellatrix. Bellatrix's mouth was still opened in a silent scream and tears actually leaked out.
"Let it be known," Dark hissed, "that anyone who dares harm a hair on Harry Potter's head shall have something worse than the Cruciatus placed on you every single moment of the rest of your life. And rest assured, I will make sure you'll never die of the pain! Is that clear?"
No one there doubted Dark would not follow in with her threat. "And would someone get rid of the filth?"
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Moody apparated into Hogsmeade and with a speed that should have been unnatural given his age and his wooden leg, he ran straight up to Hogwarts. He threw open the doors to Dumbledore's office, to find Dumbledore having tea with Snape.
"Albus!"
Albus Dumbledore, with all his long titles, smiled a grandfatherly kind of smile and gestured for Moody to sit. "Alastor. I wouldn't have been expecting you, but since you're here, why don't you take a seat?"
"Albus, Privet Drive has been attacked. Half the Order's there already, and you don't even know?" Moody's incredulous look was directed straight at Dumbledore.
Dumbledore's famous twinkle stopped and his eyes widened. It would not be good for his weapon to be harmed. "And Harry?"
"Grimmauld Place. I got him out of there the moment the doors were blasted open."
Throughout the entire conversation, Snape had continued sipping his tea. "Since the brat's already out of there, we don't have much to worry, now do we?"
Privately, Albus agreed. Severus Snape was the person in the entire world who actually knew that Albus Dumbledore did in fact think of Harry Potter as a weapon. He was also the person who knew that Dumbledore was far from the great Hero of the Light he appeared to be. The only person who could rival Dumbledore in the Dark Arts was probably the Dark Lord himself. Yet however, he had an image to keep up, "We had better hurry. What of his relatives?"
"They happened to be o--" The next moment, Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared in Dumbledore's office via Portkey. "Albus, the Death Eaters fled upon seeing us and that Harry wasn't there. We didn't even have time to whip out our wands and they were already gone. The Dursleys' are back though, and Vernon Dursley is yelling away regarding the state of his house and the presence of wizards. Petunia Dursley is shrieking about how dirty her house has gotten, what the neighbors will say and that son of theirs is throwing a tantrum the size of the entire Mississippi River."
"We had better get there," Dumbledore said gravely. As he prepared a Portkey, he thought of how troublesome it was to keep a weapon, making sure it was in the perfect mind frame, getting rid of factors that might influence it ... but perhaps there was no more need for Harry Potter. Voldermort was gone, as Snape had just reported, and a young teenager capable of inflicting pain with a merest touch of her finger had replaced him. The Death Eaters addressed her as Mistress, but so far, no one knew her name.
He needed information on the new Dark Lord, or Lady, where she came from, what the crux of her power was ... his only regret was that Voldermort had been destroyed before he had a chance to suck his power, as he did to the deceased Dark Lord Grindelwald.
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To say the atmosphere was tense was a major understatement. Every loud breath made seemed like a bomb ready to go off. Harry was stuck in the kitchen with Ron, Hermione and Ginny. Mrs Weasley had disappeared somewhere. There were a few attempts to make conversation, but they all went out like a flame without oxygen. And Harry? He was lost in memories. Not of Grimmauld Place and Sirius, but of things he never remembered doing.
Dancing with the beautiful girl he had never met under a starlit night. Watching the sunset together. Trying to paint a portrait of her and failing miserably. Her beautiful and melodic laughter echoed in his mind. Then, the both of them having a huge quarrel.
"Why can't you stop thinking of yourself for awhile!"
"I could ask you the same thing!"
The remaining argument was blurred, but Harry could remember details like her flushed face, how the setting sun glinted off her hair ...
"HARRY!"
A shout jerked Harry out of his memories.
"Huh? What?"
Hermione sighed, "Have you been listening? We've been telling you what we know about Voldermort and the Death Eaters so far!"
"Yeah," Ron added in, "Fred and George invented this new kind of Extendable Ears that Mum can't keep out, no matter what they do! Fred and George gave them to us seeing as they're in the Order already."
"Oh"
The next moment, Dumbledore, Snape, Moody and Kingsley portkeyed in. Before any greetings could be given, the rest of the Order members portkeyed in as well. None of them looked worse for the wear; not even any piece of clothing on them was rumpled, but nevertheless, the looked fairly tired.
Dedalus Diggle, reported to Dumbledore, "Albus, the Ministry Aurors turned up and we handed the situation to them. Tonks is still there as a Ministry Auror, and Remus' representing the Order."
"I see, well done Dedalus, take a seat, you all seem fairly tired."
"Well, that family of Harry Potter's? They sure know how to shriek and scream."
As the other Order members started giving their reports about what they saw to Dumbledore, Harry's mind drifted once more. Back to his well of memories, somehow, he managed to raise bucketfuls of memories of the mysterious girl his mind offered no name, except for 'Dark'.
What sort of name was that? It probably suited an evil git like Voldermort ... but for a teenage girl he couldn't get his mind off ...
Yanking himself sharply from his memories, he raised his head to meet the dark eyes of Severus Snape. Immediately, he felt the mental probe called Leglimency. Instead of raising feeble shields that Snape would just break down, he turned his head, breaking his gaze from Snape's. From the corner of his eye, he saw Snape smirked. Frankly, he couldn't care less what that man thought. He had other things to worry about. Like the weight of the world on his shoulders.
The 'prophecy' led to Sirius, and Harry immediately thought of something else. His mind settled on Remus. Remus Lupin, the last true Marauder, his last link to his parents. In a way, he was glad Remus wasn't there. He wasn't ready to deal with him.
"Harry," Harry turned his head so quickly, his neck cricked. Raising a hand to rub his neck, he gazed questioningly at his headmaster. "Privet Drive has been deemed safe. It would be unwise to step out of the house. Alastor here would be escorting you back."
Moody stepped forward, his wooden leg clunking against the floor, "Come on kid, gotta get you back. Grimmauld Place ain't safe for you." one hand held his wand, while the other clutched a sweet Harry recognized as a Ton-Tongue Toffee, no doubt a Portkey.
Harry didn't move to accept it, instead staring at the sweet, yet not really looking at it. One touch at the Portkey would send his straight back to his prison, bored out of his mind, occupied with his nightmares, faced with the lovingless faces of the Dursleys' ... thinking of the last part of Moody's statement ... 'ain't safe for you ...'
Something inside him just ... snapped. He couldn't take it anymore. "No." and Harry raised his head to stare directly into the suddenly twinkleless eyes of Dumbledore. More than one person said, "WHAT!"
Harry steeled himself. "I'm going back to the Dursleys' to collect my stuff and then I'm leaving Privet Drive. I'm never going back again, even if I have to live on the streets."
Hermione, unsurprisingly, was the first to react, her eyes widening, "Harry! Privet Drive is the only place safe enough for you! Anywhere else ... Voldermort would get to you!"
"I don't care," he replied, not breaking his staring match with Dumbledore, to show to him that what he was saying was the truth that he really didn't care anymore.
No one knew how to react. They had imagined Harry would be the good kid, accept the Portkey, and go back to Privet Drive and stay there, where he was safe.
Snape was the next to comment. "As I expected Potter, you just want the Death Eaters to find you so you can defeat them and make yourself out as the hero. Potter, you wouldn't stand a chance."
Incontrollable anger surged in Harry. Snape's mocking tone and slight hesitation at saying 'Death Eaters' had told him everything. Voldermort was really gone, and Dumbledore knew it. Snape should have said the 'Dark Lord' would be after him as well, but he didn't.
That meant there was a new leader, someone who had defeated Voldermort easily, for he had not felt any adrenaline rushes from Voldermort through the link. Voldermort was taken by surprise, and very quickly. So quickly, Harry had not felt anything.
Harry weighed all the options in such a situation. He could take the Portkey and just stay at Privet Drive, despite what he said just now. He could also refuse the Portkey and reveal to Dumbledore he knew Voldermort was dead. Dumbledore would then get him to stay at Grimmauld Place, where he could still keep an eye on him. Or, he could take the Portkey, appear defeated, let Snape smirk all he want, but then sneak out of Privet Drive first chance he got.
As much as he did not want Snape to have the last laugh today, he had no choice. Hunching his shoulders, his head fell down as he stared at the floor, breaking his staring match with Dumbledore. The twinkle returned in Dumbledore's eyes, and Snape, not in the least unexpected, smirked.
Harry grabbed the Portkey, and the next moment, he was gone with Moody, not missing the calculating gaze, not in Snape, but in the person he had looked up to the most before, Albus Dumbledore.
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Many people, including some of the Order members, might say Dumbledore was senile. Yet, he was not. In all the 177 years of his life, Dumbledore had been a Slytherin. He had been born an average wizard, not much power than any other wizard. He knew this, but despite that, he wanted to be great. Famous, powerful, feared by some even. He was born into a pureblooded family, and while his family never despised Muggles and Muggleborns, he still thought himself as superior to them.
Now, every family had its own secret. Yet one secret all pureblooded family shared was that all had a library dedicated to the Dark Arts. Even the Light families, such as the Potters, had one. But whether anyone in the family used it, that was another story. In the Dumbledore family, their Dark Arts Library was almost never opened, until Albus found the entrance by chance and delved into it. He was never stupid enough to attempt any of the spells, but he read, and learnt the theory of many Dark Arts spells.
While he was not over powerful, no one could deny that he was smart. He went to Hogwarts, and threatened the Sorting Hat into letting him into Gryffindor, where he knew no one would spy on him. After all, when he was young, Slytherin house had been seen as the House of Dark Wizards, and Gryffindor was where no one would turn bad.
Few people knew that Grindelwald had actually been a Gryffindor at Hogwarts. His campaign had not been to eradicate Muggles and Muggleborns, but to help the non-humans achieve equality. Weirdly, those most against non-humans had been Muggleborns and Grindelwald assassinated them in order to help his campaign. His actions were misinterpreted, and he was labeled as a Dark Wizard because of the way the Muggleborns had been killed.
True, Grindelwald had delved into the Dark Arts, merely because he believed that magic and spells should not be divided between Dark and Light, but should be based on intent. Dumbledore, who had been, unknown to many, Grindelwald's best friend, used his position in pureblooded family to stoke the fires, causing many to believe Grindelwald as the Dark Lord he was.
There were the so-called casualties of war, but few realised that these had actually been killed by Dumbledore, and not Grindelwald's campaign. Dumbledore sucked dry their magical core, and slowly grew more powerful.
In the end, that fateful confrontation between the two best friends resulted in Grindelwald actually letting his guard down, and allowing Dumbledore to get his powers, and killed Grindelwald in the process. To make sure that no one could actually take revenge on him, he killed all people related to Grindelwald. Why? Because Grindewald's family had been the last descendants of the Great Wizard, Merlin.
By destroying the evil 'Dark Lord', Dumbledore rose to his present powerful political and magical position. He had been tempted, more than once, to accept the position of Minister for Magic, but he convinced himself that staying at Hogwarts was the best decision. After all, being looked up by all the future leaders of the Magical World would further secure his political weight.
Now, he met Harry Potter. A boy of exceptional magical talent. He had power, and he was also the person who was prophesized to defeat Voldermort. He had to be careful when dealing with him, after all, it would not be good for him to run astray. He might even be a threat to his own position when he grew up.
So, he played him like a puppet. Leaving him at the Dursleys', where he would learn to place others before him, a perfect hero. Making sure he had no idea of the wizarding world, where he could be, in ignorance, manipulated.
Of course, Dumbledore would rather have bound his magic years ago, and let Harry Potter simply fade into the dust. But, the wizarding world would not let that happen, and his magic had been too powerful to bind. Most magical binds would also fall apart when the wizard went through his magical maturity at 16.
He was proud of the boy, after all, he had managed to handle all the tasks set to him. In his first year, the obstacle course was admittedly above his level somewhat, but his two friends had been there with him.
He was never more pleased with Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. The youngest male Weasley had been practically ordered by his mother to befriend the Boy-who-Lived.
But it was a stroke of luck that Hermione Granger managed to become Harry's other best friend. Who more suitable to be the Savior of the Light's best friends and … sidekicks?
A Muggleborn witch and the son of one of the most prominent families of the Light. It could not have been better.
But things started to mess up in Harry's second year. Dumbledore had never expected Lucius Malfoy to come up with a ploy to open the Chamber of Secrets through Voldermort's diary.
Still, the Boy-who-Lived managed to slay the basilisk and escape with his life, in the process destroying Riddle's diary. In a way, he had passed another test.
In his third year, Dumbledore had been worried in more ways than one. Sirius Black had escaped, and if he managed to get to the young weapon, he would no doubt be able to change his ideas and concepts about certain things, and influence him in certain things. Not to mention he had had no choice but to employ the werewolf Remus Lupin.
After all, he had known of the change in Secret Keeper, but had allowed Sirius to go to Azkaban nevertheless.
Still, things turned out well in the end. Harry's manufactured hero complex came through, and he saved Wormtail from being killed by Sirius and Remus, allowing him to escape.
Sirius had been forced on the run, and a not so subtle hint to Severus prompted him to reveal to his Slytherins that their DADA teacher was a werewolf.
Fourth year, he had been hard pressed by the Ministry and the other schools to hold the tournament at Hogwarts. He had been worried once more. There was no doubt that the tournament would only be allowed to those 17 and above, and since Harry could not participate, and Dumbledore would be occupied with the tasks, he would not be able to plan any other 'adventure' for the young Potter.
In the end, fate had came though for him, and Harry became the fourth champion. Dumbledore was pleased. If Harry Potter could go through the Triwizard Tournament's three dangerous tasks without losing his life, then Dumbledore would be satisfied, and would start training him to achieve magical maturity faster.
But at the end of the third task, Voldermort had returned, and the young Gryffindor had been forced to watch the murder of a fellow classmate.
Dumbledore wanted to despair. It had been too early to expose him to the horrors of murder. While technically his mother was killed in front of him, he was too young to remember it.
The incident might harden him into having his own opinions, and he might lose control of his weapon.
Luckily, he had merely returned as an angry and frustrated teen, if not a little miserable. But he had regained access to the wild card Sirius Black.
Remus he could control to some extent. But Sirius Black … he had been one of the people he most wanted killed by the war, as he had been a constant thorn at his side, always finding faults with his plans, and stopping him from furthering his reputation and power.
The other two had been Lily & James Potter. The couple was dead, and would no longer be a problem, but Sirius Black had managed to survive and then escape Azkaban.
Still, Sirius had managed to get himself killed, and would no longer halt his plans. Yet he had once again worried, that Harry might harden his heart, as this time, Sirius had been the one father figure in his life.
And it appeared he had worried right. The look of defiance he had shown when he refused to accept the Portkey … after that, he became the miserable teen once more, and accepted the Portkey.
However, these abrupt mood swings was not a very good thing either. 'Or it might,' Dumbledore thought.
Voldermort was gone, and other than the Death Eaters, Snape and Dumbledore himself, no one knew. Cornelius Fudge was a smart man. If Dumbledore himself told him that Voldermort was gone and added a casual remark that Harry Potter need not worry himself anymore, he would catch the hint, and know that Dumbledore would want Harry out of the picture as well.
Few knew or rather, no one knew that Fudge and Dumbledore had acted at the hospital wing. It was also Dumbledore who had told Fudge to bring a Dementor to kiss Bartemius Crouch Junior.
Dumbledore wanted fewer people to know about the return of Lord Voldermort, or rather, fewer people to believe. That way, it would help when everyone begged for forgiveness and would further stabilize the trust people placed in him.
If Fudge deemed Harry as mentally unfit, and Dumbledore seconded it, well, who would not believe them.
He would have to persuade Fudge not to send Harry to Azkaban, as more than likely, this new leader of a teenage girl would break out the prisoners there.
Still, he could not start this plan immediately. He needed to first spread several rumors about the Boy-who-Lived, to shake people's belief and trust in Harry Potter. Then would no one protest when he was sent to the mental ward in St. Mungo's.
'Yes' … 'a great plan indeed'
Little did he know he would one day come to regret his 'brilliant plan' when it backfired spectacularly in his face.
A/N: The second chapter, done. I hope it isn't too slow for you all, so I decided to write a longer one. Anyone who wishes to beta it for me, please send be a PM. Thanks. Not much action yet but fear not, things would turn for the better! And sorry for a little OOCness …
I write what I please
