Authors Note:
Thanks so much for all the reviews and support I've received so far. I hope you like this chapter, it'll certainly set up more for what's to come. Let me know your thoughts afterwards in the comments and enjoy!
Chapter 6: The Dance Begins
"Through the darkest days of my life I emerged on the other side a changed man. I cried, I wept, I dragged myself up again and stood taller than ever. I could see with a clarity that was wholly absent before. I now know to be the truest fact of life that which doesn't kill you, must in the end make you stronger." Account from the Minister of Magic Artemis Shacklebolt, who fought in the dark wars of the 19th century.
Two hours later and Harry sat replaying the events of Diagon Alley over in his mind. Upon returning home he had immediately slumped down in his chair to await Remus' arrival from what he guessed was an emergency order meeting. He had only moved to wash the smell and dirt off before returning to his chair to think.
What in the hell had happened? Where should he even begin to think about this? Sure, he had his wand. And that may have been what he had gone there for in the first place, he was obviously elated to have found something that responded so profoundly to him after all, but that was almost the least of his concerns right now. He had been seen! And twice no less. In his eagerness to help the frightened mother and her children Harry's heart had melted and he had foregone his need to shelter his identity and given them his cloak. In that moment, Harry saw the desperate relief that flashed in the mother's face when she recognised him and knew him not to be a Death Eater, but someone who's notoriously opposed to them.
This, Harry thought, was one of the rare occasions that being him paid off. Giving her the cloak had felt like placing his protection over them, assuring her that no matter what happened he would take care of them. Harry was certain she and her children had made it out alright; otherwise the brunette would not have intervened as she did. Harry didn't know anything about the mysterious girl's motives, but he knew that if she was shielding everyone else over herself, then she was bound to do so for them as well.
No, Harry was not too worried about the mother revealing his secret. Her nod of comprehension, when he had gestured to her with all but confirmed this. The other liability however, was an entirely different matter.
It was a testament to how self-involved Harry had been up until now that he couldn't even name the girl who had come to his aid during the fight. She was in his year and in Slytherin Harry believed. He thought her name was Daphne but he couldn't be sure. For some reason she had tried to hide herself behind a glamour charm, as he had done on his last trip to the alley with Remus. Only hers had been cancelled or wiped away as the blast had hit them. Harry had at first thought he was seeing things and that the damage from the explosion had concussed him. As he came back to his senses though he recognised her immediately as the girl who had been walking with, Harry presumed, her sister earlier that morning. Where even was her sister? And why did she even use a glamour charm in the first place? Was she hiding from the Death Eaters or from attention in general?
If it weren't for the fact that Harry's heart, body and mind all felt as frazzled as if he'd been in a week long entanglement with the whomping willow he'd probably be more panicked over the fact that this unknown entity now knew that it was him who sought to be disguised during the battle. He did equally know the same truth about her, but it was the lack of any other info that made him stand one edge. Where did her loyalties lie? Would she try to leverage him? Then again he knew who she was as well. She had tried to cover her face when fighting the Death Eaters and would likely have been successful had it not been for the explosion. So perhaps he had potential leverage over her if she tried to use it against him.
And then there was the wand and Ollivanders' hasty vow of secrecy. What had caused the old man to change his mind so drastically? How had Harry summoned the wand in the first place? Was the wand special somehow?
Just as Harry tiredly contemplated the answers to questions he could barely fathom, the trunk opened from above and Moony climbed down.
"Merlin Harry," he began, snatching Harry in a hug that suggested he needed that to finally accept that Harry was alright. "I was scared senseless when I couldn't find you. I had no idea what to do. I could see the place had been ransacked and that an unknown number spells had impacted his back room, but then I saw two downed Death Eaters and assumed you'd somehow gotten away. What happened?" He panted out in one breath.
"Woah, Moony calm down. Come, sit and I'll fill you in on everything." Harry said, gesturing to his couch which a grateful Remus was all too glad to accept.
Sometime later, Remus lay back on the sofa to digest all Harry had told him. "I don't even know where to start."
"-Yup, circle those thoughts for a few hours and you'll still arrive where I am now." Harry replied.
Remus had recapped for Harry the ins and outs of his story after Harry had finished his own tale. Harry found out that a few Auror's had been killed and one Order member, whom Harry didn't know, was critically wounded, but they had captured nearly 20 Death Eaters in the attack. Remus informed him that they were only suspected to be low level new recruits who could pass on little information. But still, they had come out the other side better than anyone would have expected. Remus, however, couldn't say the same for Diagon Alley. As Harry had observed, several buildings and shops had suffered massive damage in the attack, most notably a second hand broom shop and Obscurus books which had been almost completely destroyed. Harry thought himself lucky that he had been there when he had. Even if the store clerk was a massive idiot Harry hoped he at least made it out unscathed.
"Well, thankfully you got the wand." Remus said examining it curiously. "Well done on your bit of wandless magic though kid, your training in that area is really paying off."
Having relived the moment many times since he had returned, Harry felt exceedingly lucky and especially grateful that he had been able to perform the wandless shield just as the spell was about to hit them. Let alone the fact that he had summoned his wand at the same time with his other hand. He still didn't know why he winked at the girl. Perhaps out of a desire to reassure her. They were practically helpless. They were trapped. His only option was his Holly wand, which was slyly concealed under his hoody. Yet a scrupulous plan had formed in his head that had served to drive that logical idea speedily away. It was bold, reckless and probably stupid- befitting almost of Gryffindor himself-, but in those crucial few seconds it was likely the only thing that would have saved them and Harry for one was insanely relieved it had worked.
In any case, Harry chose not to reveal the extent of his abilities yet as he still valued his secrecy in that area. "Thanks Remus. It was extremely risky. But for some reason I just knew, kind of without thinking or even really knowing how, that they would work. They just had to, because I needed them to, or rather we needed them to." Harry conceded correcting himself, thinking about the girl there with him.
"Yes, well from the sounds of it you got lucky several times during your battle Harry. I wish you had just activated your portkey and gotten out like I had instructed you too when I left you." Remus said heavily.
"I know Remus, but I did what I had to do. What you knew I would do no matter what. -They needed my help Moony- I could never just leave them, I will never be that person."
"I know Harry, I guess I knew you would do that if something did happen. You're unequivocally your parent's child in that regard, particularly your father. He would have jumped straight into the action. Your mother on the other hand, she would have done whatever she could to have secured those children's safety, just as you did." Remus commented proudly with a smile. "I was just so worried about you out there, especially after…." Remus paused. An image of Sirius passing through the veil as he stood helplessly by flashed through his mind. "…-after recent events. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you too. It's me who was responsible for you even being there, you know. And if anything were to happen to you-".
"-But something will happen Remus, it always will and there's nothing you or I can do to stop it. All we can do is try to react in the best way possible and perhaps learn from our mistakes so that next time we increase the chances of walking away again." Harry felt a steadfast determination radiate from him at this moment.
Remus sighed dejectedly. "I know kid. Although that did absolutely nothing to abate my worries I recognise it was nonetheless true." At that, they both smiled, the harsh truth of Harry's situation juxtaposed far too aggressively Remus' wishes.
"What are you going to do about Dumbledore tomorrow?" Remus asked breaking their respective reveries.
Harry was taken back by this. In all the chaos that had been the day he had completely forgotten the fact that Dumbledore was coming for him in the evening. "Merlin. I honestly don't know. There's not much I can do without raising considerable suspicion. I guess I'll have to just go along with it and try as hard as I can to train while at the burrow. I'm not ready to reveal my intents to everyone yet- That unfortunately could make things difficult." Remus nodded in recognition of Harry's dilemma.
The two lapsed into silence before Remus dragged himself off the couch. Taking in Remus' haggard appearance Harry commented, "Blimey Remus we've only just got you a new set of clothes and already look at them."
Looking down and chuckling Remus replied, "I know kid. Listen, I hope all goes well for you and the rest of your summer. Keep me updated if you do go to the Weasleys tomorrow. You could always ask Dumbledore to stay here because you want to catch up on your studies or something. Who knows, he might be inclined to say yes in order to stay in your good books." Remus offered.
Harry contemplated this for a second before taking it under advisement. "Yeah, I think I probably will. Be careful on your trip."
"Thanks Harry. Don't worry it's just a small recruitment mission overseas for the Order. Minimal danger, I promise. And far less than you are likely to get into while I'm gone." Remus reminded Harry pointedly.
The two stood for a few seconds observing each other. They had grown so close over the last month, becoming integral to each's own daily activities: Harry needed Remus for advice and support, not to mention transportation. But more than that, they both needed the other to help them get through the grief of Sirius. Neither of them could replace what he had meant to the other, but in the wake of Sirius' untimely death they were able to grow closer and be as much the marauder family as was possible. At least one good thing had come from his it, Harry thought bittersweetly.
After hugging one final time Remus span on the spot and apparated away.
As Remus left and Harry's mind shifted back to the battle he pondered more about his furtive ally. So she could apparate. That was for certain: the wave that had washed over him was likely the anti-appartion wards falling and her swift exit made that the only likely possibility. She could duel too. And she clearly cared about people otherwise she wouldn't have gone to the trouble of changing her appearance let alone protect them in the first place. But what was she afraid of? Backlash from within Slytherin if they found out? It was certainly a possibility. Harry suspected Malfoy would stop at nothing to weed out any possible non-Voldemort sympathisers in the house of snakes. So, if that was the reason then Harry could understand her desire to disguise herself. He just couldn't know for sure and in this case that was the problem. She was just too much of an unknown. And if Harry had become accustomed to one thing over the last month, it was a greater degree of control over his life, something he was wholly lacking in this new situation.
He would just have to trust that she valued him keeping her secret in the meantime, as for now there was nothing he could do about it. He would have to wait until he returned to school to perhaps confront her and learn her motives.
Such uneasy thoughts led him straight to his supposed flight from the Dursleys tomorrow. Could Harry, following Remus' advice and simply ask the professor to stay here? He knew the Weasleys would be disappointed, as he was in not seeing them too, but his training and studying time was far too valuable to be cast aside. Now more than ever, time was a precious commodity and he needed to use it wisely.
For now, Harry was wiped. He had had a long day and it looked like he'd have just as an adventurous a one tomorrow. Only less explosions, he thought drowsily.
-HP-
Needless to say, Harry had trouble sleeping that night. His revolving thoughts were tied to Dumbledore's will and the feeling of helplessness that followed him through his dreams clung with a snake like constriction. On top of that, as he awoke the next morning his scar was prickling, albeit minimally. Voldemort was up to something. As to what though, Harry had no idea. Since his possession in the atrium of the Ministry, he had felt little from his scar and the scarce times he did was only able to discern a fleeting emotion or flashing image. Perhaps Voldemort was lying low, or indeed purposefully reigning in his emotions so as not to alert Harry to his activities; that is if it was even possible for Voldemort to have such afflicting emotions. Harry did feel like there was dream though. A dream he had but was missing, slipping on the edge of his conscious.
Nonetheless by the time Harry roused himself under his distractingly comfy covers the tingling in his scar had receded and he sprang out of bed to enjoy what might be his last day of freedom. Before he began his exercises or even ate breakfast he grabbed a pen and, deciding to heed Remus' parting advice, wrote a short missive to Dumbledore expressing his wishes to stay here for the rest of the summer. He didn't give much of an explanation as he assumed the headmaster would wish to pick him up for his errand anyway and thus he could explain then. Not wanting to waste time on delivery, Harry called out loud for Fawkes. For a few seconds nothing happened. His tiny room was deathly quiet. And just when Harry thought he'd have to search for an alternate means of delivery the bird exploded into existence behind him, taking a tense Harry by surprise as he flew around the room and landed softly on his shoulder.
"I swear you do that on purpose." Harry said candidly to the majestic bird. Fawkes merely trilled a short song which always served to lighten Harry's mood no matter how vexed he was at Fawkes' grand appearance. "You know you can't just use that song to get away with doing whatever you want, even if it does feel cool." In response the bird just trilled another song to alleviate Harry of his concerns. Chuckling in response, Harry said,"Would you mind delivering this to you know who for me please?" As if with pleasure Fawkes gently took the proffered letter from Harry's hand and swept from his shoulder before vanishing in a burst of flames once more.
'Well', Harry thought, 'let's see what happens.'
He spent the day, after his exercises, experimenting with his new wand and practising some of spells he had accumulated whilst he dreamt of obtaining it. He couldn't explain it but he didn't feel quite as connected to his new wand as he did to his Holly one, and yet it seemed to warm to him regardless. It was as if the wand knew his needs and was happy to accommodate them, but at the same time showed no loyalty to him. It was strange. Not that Harry was complaining however, as he relished being able to finally unleash all he had studied since returning to Privet Drive. While he couldn't use any powerful spells as he had nowhere to aim them inside his trunk apartment he could still practise everything else he had learnt.
The day went by quicker than Harry's nerves would have liked and before he knew it, it was time to prepare for Dumbledore's arrival. Harry, as always didn't know exactly what to expect from the seemingly capricious headmaster, but guessed that they would have a chance to talk on the way to his 'matter' he wished to take care of. It would be then that he would, not persuade- as harry didn't want to make it look like he overly wanted to stay at the Dursleys-, but simply ask the headmaster to let him stay for studying's sake. Honestly, that sounded too suspicious just thinking about it; after all why would anyone want to stay in such a place any longer than they absolutely had to, he asked himself as he glanced around at the Dursley's grim family photos that lined the stairs. He couldn't decide what were more ostentatious, the slimy family portraits or the eye-assaulting flowers that adorned their front garden. In the end, Harry thought the truth might work well enough to sway the Headmaster. It didn't have to be the whole truth, Harry reminded himself, ironically channelling his inner Dumbledore.
As he reached the bottom he could just about discern the revolting sounds of Dudley and Vernon tearing into tonight's chocolate selection, barely taking note of the wrappers as they devoured their little treats while watching the latest edition of Crimewatch. No doubt to see if one of Harry's friends were featured. Since their little meeting in the park, Dudley was being coddled incessantly by his parents until he 'recovered'. Harry was pretty sure he was faking his injuries at this point in order to keep on receiving as much pampering as he currently was. They really deserved one another, Harry thought indifferently.
Still at least they had left him alone this year. Threats from Bowler hat wearing, crazy eye twirling 'lunatics' would do that to you, harry guessed humorously, thinking back to the Dursley's first encounter with Mad-eye Moody. Leaving them to it, Harry stepped outside and leaned up against the garage door to await Dumbledore's arrival.
Spot on the stroke of 11 the lights in the street faded and harry saw an approaching figure walking up the street towards him. As the figure neared, Harry tensed and his hand gripped his holy wand tightly. Not missing a beat Dumbledore approached Harry instead of the door with as much levity as surprise.
"Good evening Harry," he began jovially.
"Good evening Professor," Harry retorted amicably, Dumbledore's aura was almost as infectious as Fawkes'. He was actually, despite everything, pleased to see his headmaster and he could tell the feeling was mutual.
Instead of inquiring into the reason Harry was currently outside Dumbledore amicably reached the conclusion himself. "I sense you would perhaps prefer for us to take a walk instead of venturing inside Harry?"
Smiling Harry replied, "Yes Sir, well I thought we could chat on the way to the errand you spoke of."
"Ah yes, well you see that matter has rather happily already resolved itself. You see, I had wanted to ask for your help in persuading an old colleague of mine to re-join the staff again this year. However, as per his missive yesterday he has agreed to join the staff without shall we say a little prodding." Said Dumbledore.
"Ah I see, well –what made him change his mind?" Harry asked curiously.
"Good question, Harry. I believe he was influenced rather heavily by the destruction of Diagon Alley. After all, he is good friends with , who barely managed to escape a Death Eater attack, and I assume that his words may have swayed him into returning for the cause."
Harry nodded in understanding, but not replying.
"Would you perhaps like to talk somewhere else other than Little Whining Harry? I daresay this place can make one a little stir crazy at times." Dumbledore ventured sincerely.
"That would be perfect Sir." Harry replied eagerly.
Chuckling a little at Harry's enthusiasm Dumbledore asked, "Excellent, did you perchance have somewhere in mind?"
He didn't and yet as Dumbledore posed the question, Harry thought he could probably go anywhere he liked with the headmaster by his side, so why not, he thought he'd chance it. "Actually sir, I think I do. Can we go to Godric's Hollow?"
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, but if he was surprised by Harry's choice that was the only way he showed it. He looked more contemplative over the feasibility of such a destination. "You would like to visit your parents graves Harry." Dumbledore stated.
At Harry's nod of affirmation Dumbledore similarly nodded in acceptance. "Usually I would not advise such a, as the muggle's say, hot destination to visit. However, under the circumstances I think it would be appropriate." He smiled warmly at Harry, there was understanding in his eyes.
"So, shall we then?" the Headmaster prompted. He stuck out his arm ready for Harry to grasp. "Wand out Harry. I don't suspect there to be danger there but just to be on the safe side." Harry complied agreeing wholeheartedly. He was just thankful Dumbledore had given him permission to do it, he would have been gripping it tightly in his pocket regardless, but having it out would have given him an extra advantage.
"Why don't you think there will be any danger, Sir?" Harry asked curiously.
"Well, trying not to sound too conceited Harry, but simply put, because you're with me." He said smiling pleasantly.
That was it. That was the feeling of unwavering comfort he exuded that Harry knew he had to achieve as well. The headmaster wasn't boasting or over embellishing his own abilities, simply stating the truth. He was just that powerful, that confident in his own talents, that no matter where he went, he had at the minimum more control than most others could ever dream. It was in his presence that Harry felt so reassured, so relaxed, because plainly stated he could be that way. The man personified his familiar impeccably, radiating warmth and reassurance to the degree that no matter how stressed you were, there was always a sense that while Dumbledore was around everything would be alright. That is what Dumbledore and his reputable magical prowess represented to wizarding Britain: hope. And that was exactly what he must aspire to be, if he was ever to be able to protect people as Dumbledore could.
"Now, we will be apparating Harry," said Dumbledore interrupting his admiration. "Have you ever done so before?"
"Given what I've read professor, I'm pretty sure I'd remember if I had." Harry stated, hoping his deflection would come off smoothly.
"Too true Harry," Dumbledore retorted chuckling. "When you are ready, take my hand."
Harry paused to make sure he was ready for the sensation once more before he gripped the headmaster's outstretched arm. Again the unnatural squeezing sensation sought to stretch him to new heights, but as soon as it began it ended and Harry landed uneasily next to the impressively steady professor.
Dumbledore glanced at Harry with unconcealed mirth in his eyes. What was it about wizarding adults looking at kids who were experiencing the seemingly impossible with amusement. "Are you alright Harry? Most people vomit the first time they apparate."
"Oh?- I wonder why." Harry replied. "Are we here Sir?"
"Indeed Harry, we have arrived in Godric's Hollow." Taking a second to absorb his surroundings, Harry immediately recognised he was standing in the centre of an old village. The archaic buildings appeared quaint and the smell of summer flowers and freshly cut grass pervaded his senses letting him know he was far from the city suburbs now. A war memorial stood only a few metres from him in the middle of the interchange, all roads seemed to lead there. As they approached it the memorial gently shifted its form to reveal a statue of sorts with a young couple lovingly cradling their baby.
Before he could question him the headmaster stated, "Your parents, Harry. This statue was erected shortly after that fateful Halloween night."
Harry's heart began to beat strongly, emotionally. He was finally glancing at his parents. He didn't want to spend too much time here as he wanted to save it for their graves, but now that he stood so close to the monument of their lives it was hard to let it go. Dumbledore seemed to sense his unease and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Let's head for the graveyard, shall we Harry?" Dumbledore prompted as much as asked. A nod from a pensive Harry was all Dumbledore required to lead him down one of the streets towards the churchyard spire, which could be seen breaking the darkness and standing tall against the night sky.
"It's really rather nice here Harry," Dumbledore said as he took in everything from the houses, to the streets, to the grassy knolls. "I myself had the good fortune to have been raised here." He volunteered, much to Harry's surprise.
"Sir?" Harry replied, "this is your home town?"
"Indeed so Harry, or at least a very long time ago it was." Harry let that sentence go as Dumbledore seemed to wish not to pursue it.
They walked the rest of the way in amicable silence, encountering no one, as each of them pondered their own thoughts in the village that held so much meaning for both of them. Upon entering the graveyard Dumbledore halted their stride. "As you can imagine Harry I myself have family I must visit here as well. Your parent's gravestones are over there, underneath the shading tree." He pointed out. "Keep your wand at the ready and if you need anything, just signal me," said Dumbledore before he strode off to visit his own past. He didn't elaborate on what the signal was, but given the nature of magic he assumed most things could be taken for a signal.
Harry similarly made his way over to the tree where his parent's graves supposedly lay under. A soft light hanging outside the church door served to illuminate the surrounding area as he weaved his way towards them. The standard graveyard mist was absent on this cool summer's night and the glow of the moon helped reveal the path, but as he approached all other things left his mind.
His mouth had gone dry and his breathing was beginning to bow to an unknown grip within.
Closing in on the graves as cautiously as carefully, Harry felt his heart began to ache once more, as it had done all to recently. This feeling was different though, something he had known since before he could even remember. It was a longing; a desperate yearning for his stolen parents, his stolen life. He had been there only a few seconds, but as his eyes traced their names ornately carved into the grey stone, Harry's knees found the ground. The cool grass over his parent's graves welcomed him. All of a sudden, years of wanting and wishing and aching came rushing forth and he wept.
They were right here, lying in front of him. So close for the first time in - almost forever. Tears swam down his face with abandon and he leaned forward to grip their tombstones. He didn't sob, just let the tears flow as fifteen years of heartache caught up with him and he embraced his parent's presence, the tragedy of their short lives ringing him dry.
It may have been minutes or it may have been hours, but as Harry rose to stand he saw Dumbledore standing patiently a few feet behind him. "Do you think you could-uh.." Harry's hoarse voice croaked out.
Interpreting his meaning, Dumbledore replied. "Of course Harry." With a wave of his wand he conjured a brilliant yet graceful bouquet of flowers. Harry placed it gently against his mother's stone, and took one last look at them, before promising to return soon.
As they were walking back to the centre of the village Harry thanked the Headmaster earnestly for bringing him here. Dumbledore could clearly hear the emotion in his voice as he replied, "You're most welcome Harry. I must admit I have not been able to visit my own family in a while, so really it is I who should be thanking you."
Dumbledore paused for a few seconds before breaking into a new conversation. "Now Harry, I believe, according to your last letter that you wish to remain at your relatives for the remaining few weeks of the summer. Am I correct?"
If it weren't for the fact that he had just seen his parents, Harry's heart would likely have been hammering anxiously under the scrutinising gaze of the omniscient headmaster right now. However, seeing them for the first time ignited something in him; something he didn't know he needed until now: clarity. What he was doing was right, even if for now it did mean misleading the man who was attempting to heal their fractured friendship once more. Of course, this was still Dumbledore, so Harry had to be careful.
"Yes sir." He stated plainly, letting the Headmaster prompt him more for details.
"Well of course the decision is yours Harry, I was just curious as to why you would not wish to go to the burrow. I have no doubt that Molly and Arthur would welcome you with open arms, not to mention the numerous cakes that would likely be prepared." Dumbledore inquired.
"Of that, I am certain Professor," Harry responded smiling at the thought. "It's not an easy decision to make and as much as I crave going there and seeing everyone, I know I have things to do for the rest of the summer. I need this time to study as much as possible if I'm ever going to make a difference in the war." Harry purposefully didn't look into the man's eyes as he explained this. He after all, had no idea how good his occlumency barriers were, but was certain of the fact that if the headmaster wanted he could've gleaned every bit of truth Harry had to offer without him being any the wiser: a scary thought in itself.
"I feel so much better already this summer, than I did the whole of last year just through the extra studying I've done. It would be a shame to lose my momentum now. I have a lot of topics I've been neglecting since I started Hogwarts," Harry continued, clarifying, "and I think it's about time I began to learn them. Last year was easily the worst yet for me. I just felt so helpless and trapped." At this Dumbledore ducked his head, they both knew the part he played in causing said feelings and Dumbledore had already stated his regret over the actions that caused them. "Now I'm not blaming anyone," Harry stated, "a lot of that was to do with me and my maturity, the way I looked at things. But this year - well let's just say I won't be supporting the doom and gloom of last year. I'm going to do all that I can to prepare the students for what's about to come. I want to start the D.A. again, at least provisionally to see who wants to join."
Dumbledore pondered Harry's words for a moment before replying. "I think that's a very mature idea Harry and I commend you for it. Please let me know if you require any help or assistance in your classes. I would be very willing to help." He offered genuinely which Harry greatly appreciated. And just as Dumbledore offered him it, an intriguing idea popped his way into his head.
"Well - actually sir, I do have something in mind." Dumbledore raised his eyebrow here, intrigued at Harry's playful tone. "Unrestricted access to the restricted zone in the library." Harry ventured cheekily.
Dumbledore at first began by smiling, but then and for the first time in Harry's life he saw the man laugh out loud in sheer amusement. Harry didn't know what he said but found the professors' glee rather heartening.
"Harry," he started as his laughter died down, "you remind me so much of myself. I once tried to strike the exact same bargain with a teacher in order to get access to the currently inaccessible." He said with his small notorious glint in his eye. "I should think that would be possible Harry, as long as you are responsible with it of course."
"Of course, sir." Harry replied honestly.
"While I can understand and applaud your efforts to educate yourself Harry, I must maintain that you shouldn't worry too much about the war as of yet. This year will no doubt be very precious to you in the future and I would think you would want to spend as much of it with your friends." Dumbledore stated.
This all but confirmed Harry's prediction of the Headmaster's attitude towards him and the war. "I know Sir, but I feel it is best for now if I stayed with the Durselys. I'm enjoying studying and they aren't even treating me that badly anymore." Harry replied strongly.
Dumbledore peered down at Harry over his half-moon spectacles searching for any hint of uncertainty or perhaps even weakness in Harry's statement. Being stuck under his gaze was like being caught in a spotlight. Harry just stared back, feet firmly placed, not willing to budge an inch to let the Headmaster dictate his actions. Just as his heart began to ever so slightly quiver Dumbledore spoke.
"Very well, as you wish Harry," He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "I had wanted to have a little chat with your relatives this evening, however as you say they seem to be treating you better now and it is late, so I will endeavour to visit them another time."
Harry nodded and the two lapsed into silence for a few seconds. Harry wanted to take a step forwards towards the man, but knew it would cost him his own secrets. He had to stand firm even if Dumbledore didn't like it.
"Perhaps I should be getting you back Harry." Dumbledore interjected and Harry nodded his assent. Harry took one last look around, absorbing all he could about the little town of Godric's Hollow.
As soon as Harry gripped Dumbledore's arm he once again felt the stretching sensation as they were instantly transported back to Privet Drive.
"One last thing before I let you go Harry," Dumbledore started after giving Harry a few seconds to recover. "I would like for you to have private lessons with me this year at school."
"Seriously?" Harry said completely taken off guard. "Of course, I'd love to. What would I be studying?"
"A multitude of things no doubt Harry, but we'll leave that until next term." Dumbledore finished with an air of finality regarding the subject. Before Harry could ponder more he was bidding him farewell. "Until next term Harry."
"Yes sir, I look forward to our lessons. Thank you once again for taking me there tonight." Dumbledore paused once more to view Harry. He looked deep in thought but as if deciding he'd save it for later he quickly interrupted himself and bid Harry farewell.
As the Headmaster disapparated with the tiniest of pops the street lights came back on with a flicker reminding Harry how late it was. He headed back inside slowly, contemplating his meeting with the headmaster and what it meant for the two of them. The tension had been evident, particularly at the end of their conversation. Dumbledore clearly wanted to stay in Harry's good books while attempting to steer him down a certain path. Harry meanwhile, while also in favour of mending their relationship, was not willing to do so at the cost of his own autonomy. Harry knew Dumbledore would start to placate him as soon as they got back to school. He had even hinted at it tonight by giving only a vague overview of their lessons and by attempting to curb Harry's enthusiasm to get involved in the war.
On top of this Dumbledore also sought to hide the truth from Harry at every turn. Ironically, this made it all the more likely for Harry to develop his own secrets. If he wasn't careful the two would very soon be dancing around each other to avoid lying while still not revealing the whole truth. Harry could see his part in it and wished he could reveal more to Dumbledore, but what could he do? For a while they had gotten along well together and Harry really had appreciated being able to go to Godric's Hollow. However, if tonight had been a demonstration of anything between them, it was that Dumbledore had no intention of bringing Harry into the war any time soon. Any information Harry was able to glean from the Headmaster would be vaguely worded and with few threads to pull at.
Equally worrying was the fact that Harry had, in standing up for himself, likely raised Dumbledore's suspicions regarding his activities. Dumbledore probably assumed he was doing it in order to prepare himself and the other students. Which he was, but the headmaster had no idea it was to such an extent. Seeing as he didn't mention it Harry was sure Dumbledore had also not used occlumency against him to see what he'd been up to lately. If he had there would certainly have been a few choice words for Harry. He would have to make sure he improved his occlumency barriers drastically before their meetings started next term, constantly not looking at the man in the eyes after all would obviously tip him off.
Their meetings next term also were something Harry would have to ponder over. They promised to be interesting at the very least, but in true Dumbledore fashion he had sidestepped any details. Whether it was to keep Harry on edge or not, he didn't want to get his hopes up. Dumbledore was nothing if not mysterious.
At one point during their talk Harry was half tempted to reveal his realisation at the start of the summer knowing Dumbledore was likely the only one alive who could possibly understand such a thing, given that it had happened to him too. But as he contemplated it, Harry knew until Dumbledore saw him as more of an adult, that the revelation might hurt his efforts towards freedom as no doubt Dumbledore would be keeping a closer eye on him because of it. He simply wasn't ready to divulge his intents yet and if he was correct he didn't think Dumbledore was ready to hear it. Particularly as they meant putting him in greater danger, something the headmaster would unequivocally have a problem with.
As Harry slipped into bed that night he had a lot to ponder over and yet a lot to look forward to. He now had the next three weeks free to practice and train and prepare. He had his freedom, his wand, his time. Now to use it. And with that anticipatory thought, Harry fell into a fitful sleep.
-HP-
Somewhere in England, in one of its greatest estates, in one of its darkest dungeons several robed figures knelt in a circle. The floor and walls were a disgusting green colour, whether by intent or by neglect, he didn't know. Everyone kept silent, dread seeping slowly inside them. There was a constant dripping off to the side somewhere he couldn't see. Under normal circumstances it wouldn't have been so stark, however with the current company in this atmosphere it echoed the room with fierce proximity.
A door crashed open from the side, jarring most of them out of their static anticipation. A streak of light was immediately interrupted by the silhouetting shadow which stepped as though floating along the cold stone floor. Nobody dared move. Everybody held their tongues. The black robe clad figure stopped in the middle of their circle, glancing around.
He didn't wish to meet his eyes, yet he couldn't help but chance a look up. There was just something about him, his power, his aura which pulled you in, like a viperous gravity. The Dark Lord Voldemort surveyed his underlings with disdain for a few moments. Surely he could feel the anxiety that dripped into the atmosphere like blood from a wound.
"Did you get it?" he spoke in a barely audible serpentine tongue.
There was a pause but when nobody made to answer, he knew he had to. "No, my lord." Lucius said. "We searched the place high and low and couldn't find anything there fitting your -, that description." He choked, that was am mistake.
"That is a great pity Lucius. I manage to keep you out of Azkaban and this is how you repay me." His calm voice juxtaposing Lucius' inner terror.
Seconds went by like centuries while the Dark Lord measured his followers. Lucius wanted to say more. He wanted to beg and plead and blame the others. Bad information had caused this, not him. But he couldn't, as if against some unseen mental barrier his mind couldn't function enough to argue his innocence. Before he knew what was happening he was standing up. He hadn't wanted to. Why was he? And then he caught the Dark Lords gaze. He was staring at him, red slits scorching holes into his eyes.
"No matter. I have another task for you, and you alone," he spoke with an eerie stillness that left the air dead in its tracks. Lucius' began to lose his composure. "One you cannot fail. Your dear family are counting on you now Lucius."
And with that the Dark Lord turned to leave. Lucius let out a breath, but caught himself when he noticed he had only taken a few ethereal steps and stopped. With lightning speed the Dark Lord whipped around and sent an unknown curse hurtling in his direction. He couldn't avoid it, even if he wanted to. The last thing he could remember before being struck was the dripping water. His final moment before blissful unconsciousness was filled with the pure anguish of unbearable torture.
