Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter 4.

The Mystery of Harry Potter

Albus Dumbledore sighed as he reviewed Professor McGonagall's memories of Pettigrew's capture for the third time. It was not often that things would puzzle him, but he couldn't wrap his head around the series of fortunate events that lead to the wizard's capture.

At first glance, the only suspicious aspect would be how Peter's feet stuck themselves to the ground as if a sticking charm were used on him. But that particular charm was not taught to the first years so far, and he didn't hear anyone shouting the incantation or making the necessary wand motion for it when the rat tried to escape. This would imply that the spell was non-verbal and wandless, a feat beyond the reach of all but a few accomplished wizards.

Since Professor McGonagall had cast the revealing charm, that almost ruled out the possibility of someone hiding under a disillusionment charm or an invisibility cloak. That would point to a first-year performing the above feats, which was illogical to assume. The only explanation would be if someone used a Polyjuice potion to impersonate a first year.

This again brought matters to the fundamental questions. Who, and why? Dumbledore was almost certain there would be less than a dozen wizards or witches capable of such flawless display of wandless and nonverbal magic in Europe. He could not find a motive or opportunity for any of them to have become involved in this matter. Since he would have been in support of catching any infiltrating death eater, it would have been far easier to come to him to handle this. Thus it was performed by someone who felt the need to hide their identity.

The only person who behaved even slightly suspiciously was Harry Potter. He would have the motive and the opportunity but not the knowledge of Pettigrew's criminal nature nor the skill to orchestrate his capture. Harry initiated the conversation of discovering hidden animagi, but that could have been motivated by McGonagall's introduction of the topic. Harry appeared unperturbed and unsurprised by the revelation that Ronald's rat was an animagus. The only emotion Dumbledore could attribute to the boy was relief.

If it wasn't for the utter ridiculousness of the notion of a first-year performing such advanced manifestation of magic, Dumbledore would have considered the mystery solved.

A stray thought stuck Dumbledore. Could this be the power that the dark lord knew not? Surely not. While it would be an incredible feat for an eleven-year-old with undeveloped magical ability, he was sure Riddle knew about this skill.

Albus sighed again, letting the matter rest. He had to attend the long-overdue trial of Sirius Black and appear in his defence. It was the least he could do for misjudging Sirius so rashly. He will need rest and healing to recover from the horrors he had to undergo in Azkaban.

Severus Snape was in a foul mood after his first potions lesson with the Gryffindors and Slytherins. Granted, interacting with the Gryffindors usually put him in a bad mood. Today, however, he had the pleasure of educating the latest scion of the House of Potter, but his class did not go the way he planned it.

He had prepared a few questions for the boy to ensure that he would not potter around in his class and bring him down from his high horse. The way the wizarding community adored the boy as if he really vanquished the Dark Lord positively sickened him. He saw it as another example of undeserving Potter privilege.

He had started off by asking the boy a question from the second chapter of his textbook. Of course, any dunderhead would read the first chapter, but only interested ones would read the second. As expected, the boy did not even show a hint of recognition to the terms he used, blinking as a muggle would at the face of his questioning. That alone confirmed his suspicion that the boy inherited nothing from his mother other than the eyes. He was James Potter come again with none of his mother's intellect to show.

He asked him three questions, and the boy admitted to not knowing the answer to the first or second questions. By the third question, however, the boy seemed to become annoyed, and things changed.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

The potions professor noted that Potter had, at last, become irritated enough at his questions to do something stupid. Snape wondered what the boy would try. He would happily correct any notions of privilege the boy undoubtedly held.

"There is none, sir," Harry answered after a pause, the confusion in his face somehow erased. "They are the same plant." He said confidently.

Snape narrowed his eyes. He was sure no one whispered the answer to him. Even seventh-years wouldn't be capable of performing any magic that would deceive his watchful eyes. The boy did not know the answer when he asked the question, and then suddenly, he did.

Keeping alert at any sign of magic, he tried again. This time, he tried a question from the third chapter. He performed a silent spell to monitor all magical activity in the class.

"How many leaves of Mandrake would you add to a restorative draught?"

Again, the boy exhibited a brief period of confusion, following which the answer came with utmost confidence.

"None, sir. You crush and add their root."

Snape fumed. No magic. No whispering. Was the boy a seer, or was he a good actor? How did he divine the answers, or was he being made a fool of?

" Sit. Down!" Snape gritted out, and continued his lesson. His mind was occupied with the boy's sudden clairvoyance.

The Potions professor walked to the Headmaster's office, considering the episode carefully. This was apparently not the first time the boy had done something unusual in Hogwarts. He had heard from Minerva of the incident that led to the capture of Peter Pettigrew. There was also something he discovered during the class that disturbed him greatly. He needed to discuss this with the Headmaster.

"Ah, Severus. Do sit down." Dumbledore gestured as Severus entered the Headmaster's chamber. "Lemon Drop?"

"No, headmaster." Snape sat down. "I will get straight to the point. I have reason to believe that Harry Potter may be a Clairvoyant."

Dumbledore stilled, considering that possibility. Clairvoyants were essentially seers who could divine information about objects or events.

"What did he do for you to have reached such a conclusion?"

Snape silently extracted his memory of the incident and inserted it into Dumbledore's Pensive.

Dumbledore considered Professor Snape's memory as they sat down after the review in the Pensieve. He had to talk about Severus's biases towards Harry another time, but the implication of what he saw needed to be discussed first.

"I did not consider the possibility of Clairvoyance," Dumbledore admitted. "I do not recall ever hearing of that ability in the Potter line…."

"Another explanation escapes me unless the boy is a good actor."

"I noticed something irregular in the memories, Severus," Dumbledore said quietly. "You tried Legilimency, didn't you?"

Severus swallowed. "Yes," He should've known Dumbledore would detect that. "I was suspecting an imposter, so I wanted to make sure…."

Dumbledore looked at him disapprovingly. "Legilimency is serious business, Severus… You cannot revert to your old habits so easily."

"So you have told me," Snape muttered. "You might be interested in what happened."

Dumbledore kept silent. Snape felt a tinge of irritation. The Headmaster didn't ask what he found because he didn't want to profit from his Legilimency. But Dumbledore knew he would tell him anyway.

"I couldn't read him. At all. It was as if he wasn't there."

"Pardon?" Dumbledore sat up, surprised. "Occlumency?"

"No," Snape corrected. "I didn't even feel the presence of his mind. It was as if I had become a muggle, or as if I was looking at nothing. I have never experienced something similar before." He hesitated. "Are you sure he is Harry Potter, or that he is a human at all?"

Dumbledore watched Severus with a grave expression. "You should've detected the presence of a mind even if it was something else impersonating Harry. Not detecting a mind at all… I am at a loss, Severus."

Sirius Black lay in a bed at the St. Mungo's recovery ward, almost expecting to wake up from this dream and continue his torture in Azkaban. He was shifted here yesterday after the Wizengmot found him not guilty after a long, long overdue trial. The Wizengmot 'generously' agreed to pay him a hundred Galleons as compensation. A hundred galleons for spending the better part of his life on an island that was hell on earth. He would be less insulted if they gave him nothing.

Sirius had to let the matter go because thinking about government corruption, and justice in the wizarding world would drive him insane. Speaking of which, he had Dumbledore to thank for blocking the ministry move to shift him to St. Mungo's ward for Incurably Insane. Some of his… ramblings… on killing Peter was overheard, apparently.

He was expecting the nurse to come in to check on him any minute now. He wondered if it would be the same young woman who had come yesterday. In his current state, he had almost no chance of impressing any woman. He sighed in misery.

"Mr Sirius Black?" Sirius was jolted out of his thoughts by a melodious voice. Turning to the source, Sirius felt his heartbeat skyrocket. He opened his mouth to answer but found himself incapable of speech. The cause was simple. The woman who was standing before him was undoubtedly the most beautiful woman to ever exist. She was wearing a nurse's outfit, but that was about the last thing he noticed about her.

The nurse smiled knowingly. "Hello. I will be your nurse for today. Call me Peitho." She smiled.

Sirius experienced what he would later call a brain shutdown.

"Good moorning, boss!" A woman's voice sang, causing Harry to release a small scream as he woke up in the morning.

As he panted hard and brought his heartbeat under control, he became aware of two things. Firstly, he was in his bed in the boy's dormitory at Hogwarts. Secondly, Peitho, his 'assistant' and the goddess of Persuasion and Seduction, was sitting on his bed with a smile that would make a grown man swoon.

"P-Peitho," Harry whispered, frantically looking around. "What are you doing in my bed?" It suddenly dawned on him that she was a deity that outranked him so much it wasn't even funny. "Umm… ma'am?" He added hurriedly.

Peitho pouted. "Aww… Don't you want me in your bed?"

Her double meaning went completely over Harry's head, being all of just eleven years old. "…What?"

Peitho collapsed into a fit of giggles. "This is so much fun. I'm starting to really like being your assistant."

"Umm… thanks, I guess?" Harry was still nervously glancing at the drawn bed-curtain, expecting one of his roommates to open it at any time. Almost as if on cue, Ron's voice could be heard from his bed. He sounded half-asleep.

"Harry? Mate… Are you… " He yawned. " …alright?"

"I'm fine," Peitho replied, in an exaggerated imitation of Harry's pre-teen voice. Harry almost stopped breathing in horror, sure that Ron would recognize that this was not his voice. How could he explain her presence?

"Okay then. Try to keep it down, mate." A few seconds later, he could hear Ron's snoring.

"I guess we better keep it down, huh, boss?" Peitho moved closer to sit next to him in bed. "I hope he doesn't hear us now…."

Harry was exasperated. He was pretty sure she could make it so that no one would hear them, but she seemed to revel in making him uncomfortable.

"Umm… Is there something I have to do?" Harry tried.

"Boss!" Peitho whined. "Can't I come to see you just because? Does it always have to be for work?"

"No! You can! I just thought… since it was so early in the morning…."

"It's seven o'clock." Peitho pointed out dryly, producing a pocket watch out of nowhere.

"In Scotland?" Harry asked exasperatedly, confident as the sun had not risen yet.

"Not in Scotland, no," Peitho admitted. "But it's seven o'clock somewhere."

Harry resisted an urge to ask her what she wanted. Was this his life now?

"Aww. Don't be like that…." Peitho made a sad face.

Harry realized with a jolt that she can, indeed, read minds. Why does he keep forgetting this?

"Boss! I would never read your mind! How could you even think that?" She protested. Somehow, Harry almost believed her. Wait a minute…

Peitho began laughing again, and Harry slapped a hand on his forehead. What did he do to deserve this?

"So, I went to check on your godfather…." Peitho began, finally deigning to breach the subject.

"Sirius?" Harry had been worried about his newly discovered godfather, and he had confessed as much to Peitho when he went to Olympus for fulfilling his duties. He had made it something of a routine to check on his work every day. This was something that seemed to have gained Peitho's approval.

"Uh-huh." She nodded. "Considering he was surrounded by soul-sucking demon-kindred for the last decade or so, he's doing pretty well."

"What?"

"Oh, calm down. I healed him. He's good as new." Peitho waved off his concerns. "But wow, those things are nasty to humans. Hades should check on them occasionally to make sure they don't multiply too much." She muttered.

Harry made a mental note to check what these 'soul-sucking demon kindred' were in his D-phone since getting a straight answer out of Peitho was downright impossible.

"Aww… you're so harsh on me, boss." Peitho looked at him like a kicked puppy. "And speaking of D-phone, you're already using it to cheat! Good job!"

"Snape was downright bullying me!" Harry hollered in self-defence. He was still ashamed that he had to resort to that to answer Professor Snape's questions.

"He's bullying our entire house!" Ron agreed from his bed, still half asleep. Harry slapped his hand in his mouth. He would never know what Peitho would allow to be heard in the room. Peitho leaned back, laughed and disappeared, apparently satisfied that she had tortured him enough. For today.

After Peitho disappeared, Harry remembered he had forgotten to ask her advice on what to do with his Quirrel-Voldemort problem. Oh well.