Author's Note: Right, so you lot are not above Death Threats. Rather scary when you think about it, which makes me very happy that no one knows what I look like or what my real name is. Here's the next chapter. Enjoy!
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"Tell me again what happened," Madame Pomfrey asked as she waved her wand over Harry's bed and frowned.
Snape sighed as he gathered his strength. He was tired of telling this story. "I didn't see much. Potter cast a few spells, mostly Patroni, and then he started screaming. It was hysterical screaming. Nothing like I have heard from the boy before. He fell over, screamed some more, and then turned away from us. It looked like he was reaching for something. His heart and breathing stopped completely. Dumbledore told me to return to Hogwarts with the boy. His heartbeat and breathing started again directly after arriving here." Snape explained to the waiting nurse.
Pomfrey gave him a skeptical look. "Heartbeats and breathing just don't start and stop without some reason." She stopped casting spells with a snort of disgust. "It does not explain where this odd shield came from." Pomfrey pocketed her wand and shook her head.
Snape looked at the bed and wondered where the shield originated. It had appeared after Pomfrey directed Snape to one of the private rooms. The opaque shield hid Potter from view and prevented any spells, potions, or medical treatments. The only thing Pomfrey could tell him was that the shield did not have Potter's magical signature. It wasn't Potter's fault, for once.
"What's in his bag there?" Pomfrey asked Snape. The boy had somehow managed to keep a hold on the bag throughout the whole battle and Snape had no choice but to bring it along. Restarting his heart was far more important than worrying about moving a bag. Snape shrugged and flipped open the clasp, only to jump backwards in shock as a snack leapt out of the bag with its fangs bared.
"I will protect the lightening child's things!" Zen hissed at the two people.
"It sounds angry." Pomfrey said calmly as Zen curled up on the bag and hissed.
"My, my. Potter's got himself a pet snake." Snape sneered at the creature facing him. "The wizarding world will descend into panic and chaos." Snape rolled his eyes and brought out his wand. "I'll take care of it." He raised his wand and frowned in consternation as another shield, almost like Potter's shield, except that it was transparent, appeared around the snake and the bag.
"Nah-nah! Can't get me, silly wizards!" Zen taunted as he started a victory dance in his happiness. "I'm the champion!"
Snape rolled his eyes. Trust Potter's snake to be as uncooperative as the boy.
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Harry was sleeping. He consciously knew that he was sleeping and had absolutely no desire to wake up. He was comfortable as he was without the interference of the world. He could dream here without worrying about others. He was free to indulge in any fantasy under the sun and he often did. Most centered on him being onstage in front of an audience, delivering a perfect line or moving in just such a way that kept his audience enthralled with his performance.
The real world intruded into his dreamland from time to time, usually just as Harry was taking his final bow to chaotic applause. He would hear someone calling his name softly or singing to him. His body registered the sensation of being rocked and having his back rubbed or his hair played with. He tasted everything from bitter tea that eased a phantom ache somewhere in his body to sweet fruit juice that made him think of childhood. But, that couldn't be right, could it?
He came back to consciousness slowly. It was painful as he once more became aware that his body and his nervous system were connected. He hurt everywhere and nowhere at once. He was tired and the fatigue went deep into his bones and through him. He had a sense of being displaced in the world, but had also found himself home at the same time. It didn't make sense at all and Harry avoided acknowledging it for as long as he could. The evasion of the issue did not last for long. Harry let out a low groan as his senses meshed with his body for the first time since he regained awareness.
"Back with reality, son?" Harry heard someone ask as he felt himself being lifted and cradled. A cup touched his lips. "This will help with the pain." The warm voice gently said as it shifted Harry into a better position for drinking. Harry opened his mouth slowly and drank some of the bitter liquid. He gagged at the taste but drank all that was offered. "Yes, it does have an unpleasant taste." The voice agreed. "Some juice." A different cup touched his lips and Harry drank that eagerly. It tasted familiar. Apple? Pear? Something like that.
The person holding him sat down on something soft and warm. Further layers were wrapped around them and Harry sighed in contentment. The pain was fading, he was warm, and he was safe. There could be nothing better. He allowed himself to doze for a while, wandering in his dreams about a career on the stage. He woke when he heard a strange noise that he knew he had heard before. He heard it again and his brain identified it. That was wood popping in the fire. There wasn't a fire here, was there? That couldn't be right. He was…um. He was at….er. Where was he?
Harry tried lifting his eyelids to see where he was, but the effort took a long time and it tired him out. His eyelids fluttered for a few minutes before his managed to open his eyes all of the way. He looked up and saw a familiar face. Who was that? Salt and pepper hair. Dark brown eyes. Kind smile. The little wrinkles by his eyes that Aunt Petunia called "crow's feet". He saw Harry's eyes open and started to pet Harry's hair. "Are you truly awake, little one?" Bleys asked in a soft voice.
"Yeah." Harry frowned when he heard his voice. He shifted his head to look at one of his hands and resisted the urge to throw a tantrum to match his current physical age. He was small again. Really small. "How old am I?" He asked as he shifted to get a better look at the man holding him.
"Three." Bleys said. "You've been here two weeks already." Bleys explained. "Your magic did quite a bit of damage to you." Bleys shifted Harry so he didn't have to crane his neck up to look at Bleys.
"You took care of me as a baby?" Harry asked. That couldn't be possible.
"Don't worry. I won't embarrass you by remembering." Bleys promised. "No matter how adorable you were." Harry felt himself blush and decided to ignore that particular comment. He had never been adorable.
"Bleys?" Harry hesitated to ask this question. He told himself he didn't want to approach this subject. He didn't need to know. "Did you really want to hurt me before?" The question came out before Harry could stop it. He burrowed deeper in the blankets as he looked up at Bleys. Perhaps 'adorable' would work in his favor here, never mind that he was still sixteen in his head.
"No, son." Bleys answered with pain in his voice. "That was never my intent. The sole reason for doing that to you was so that you could learn that the Unforgiveables are nothing more than spells, blocked just as easily as other spells." Bleys justified.
Harry studied Bleys for a few seconds before he yawned and his eyes close. "Okay." Harry said tiredly. "Can we talk more later?" He asked as he curled up against his teacher and drifted off to sleep.
"Certainly, Harry." Bleys answered as he looked down at his already sleeping charge. He would never admit that he spent that whole night just holding Harry and watching him sleep. He had his student back and he wasn't going to let the boy go now.
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Harry opened his eyes and rolled over in his bed. It had been two weeks since he had found himself back with Bleys and he was now five years old in the physical sense. He was still small and he hated every second of it. He did find that smallness had its advantages. One such advantage was the ability to manipulate Bleys easier than any other task he encountered in the cottage. He kicked off his blankets and rolled out of bed. He trailed over towards Bleys's bed and allowed his feet to rest on the cold floor for a few minutes before crawling under Bleys's blankets. He reached out with his feet and stuck them against the small of his teacher's back. The man let out an astonished yelp before looking for Harry.
Bleys stared down at him, trying to look stern and unforgiving, but unable to quite pull off the look. Harry couldn't help himself. He giggled at the sight of a very sleep-rumpled Bleys and his tired glare. "You could have just called my name, you know." Bleys grumbled as he sat up.
"Where's the fun in that?" Harry asked. He saw Bleys's look change and he screeched at the revenge his saw displayed in his mentor's face. "I'm going to get dressed!" Harry said hurriedly as he dropped off the bed and scurried into the bathroom. Maybe Bleys would be more forgiving once Harry allowed him some time to wake up and become more coherent and less murderous.
Harry crept out of the bathroom a little while later to see Bleys cooking breakfast at the fireplace. He decided that breakfast sounded like an excellent idea to his growing body. He went over to the "couch" and curled up on it. Harry waved one hand and a book appeared. He smirked. Bleys was right. His magic was developing into something less analytical and more instinctual. Harry was finding that he didn't even need to form more than a thought or wish to see something happen and his magic obliged without a question. He opened his new script and started memorizing some of his lines for St. Jude's next play.
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Professor Bevington had a slight obsession with Victorian literature and had loved Dracula when he had read it as a teenager. Once he had found a stage version of Dracula, well, it just had to be performed, didn't it? Harry hadn't needed to try out again. Bevie told him that he knew Harry could act. Harry still had performed a monologue regardless of Bevie's feelings. Harry didn't want any students saying that he was favored over them or a teacher's pet. He wanted a part fair and square. He had had his eye on Renfield, but had needed to catch himself on the wall when he found out that he had the role of Dracula himself. Harry had confronted his teacher, wondering why he had the lead and why he couldn't have the role of Renfield.
Bevie smiled at Harry and shook his head. "You can play 'Dracula'." He told Harry with a smug smile. "Everyone agrees that you can play him. No one thinks you shouldn't play him." Harry had to concentrate to work out what Bevie had just said and then frowned.
"Why 'Dracula'?" Harry insisted.
"You, Evan, are an intense young man." Harry almost snorted. He knew that Bevie had no idea what he was like outside the theater. "The role calls for an intense actor. After seeing what you did with Edmund, well, there isn't any help for it. You need to play 'Dracula'. It's known as a very challenging role. It will help you grow as an actor." Bevie promised him. "I can find an understudy, if it will make you feel better." Bevie said with an indulgent look.
"That would be nice. I'll try 'Dracula'. See if he grows on me." Harry thanked Bevie for his time and then went back to his room. It looked like he had the role. Now all he had to do was figure out vampires.
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"Why are you still reading that book?" Bleys asked as he dished out breakfast. He motioned Harry over to the table. "Shouldn't you have finished it by now?"
"It's my lines for my next school play." Harry said calmly.
"Play?" Bleys asked.
"Play-acting. I told you about this before. Remember?" Harry wondered how a man like Bleys could actually forget things. It was a bit frightening and made him wonder if he was going to start forgetting things. Alden came over to Harry and gave him a soulful look before jumping up on the couch and putting his head on Harry's leg. Harry reached down and started petting him automatically.
"Ah, yes. I do recall you saying something about that before." Bleys said as he pulled the cauldron away from the fire. "Come eat breakfast." He told Harry. "We have quite a bit to do today."
Harry pushed Alden off his lap and stood, dusting himself off automatically, just in case dog hair had found its way onto his clothing. "What are we doing today?" Harry asked as he pulled his bowl of hot cereal towards him and started adding anything he could to take away the bland taste.
"A little of this, a little of that." Bleys answered cryptically. "Nothing too out of the way." He assured the shrunken teenager.
"Are we still going running?" Harry asked eagerly. He didn't know why, but the running did something for him.
"Yes, we are." Bleys told him with an odd look. "Why do you enjoy it so much?" He asked Harry.
"I don't know." Harry admitted. "I mean, I did it with Sensei all the time. He had me run almost every morning before classes started, increasing the time and distance over and over." Harry explained as he spooned cereal into his mouth. He took a muffin from the basket on the table and cut into it. "It made me feel better to run."
"I had wondered how you held out so long." Bleys said as he poured juice for Harry.
"What does that mean?" Harry asked as he looked up from buttering his muffin.
"I was amazed that you held out as long as you did with your magic." Bleys explained to his student. "I had expected to see you again just a few weeks after you left me, but you lasted until after your new year. It was far longer than I thought it would be." Bleys told him with a smirk. He returned his attention to his own cereal before continuing. "Running, or any physical exercise, is vital to us." Bleys told Harry. "You are more than a wizard and, as such, cannot expect to get by with the same amount of effort. You must take very good care of yourself. Exercise is vital to continued good health, and good health is vital to control of your magic." Bleys glanced at Harry and grimaced at Harry's confused expression. "Please allow me to try again. Your body and physical condition are directly tied to your magic. The better physical condition you manage, the more readily your magic will respond to your desires overall." Bleys looked at Harry. "Did you understand any of that?" He asked.
"Are you trying to say that working out will influence my magic?" Harry asked in concern. Bleys wasn't making much sense.
"Yes, that's it exactly. The better the shape you are in, the better your magic will respond. The stronger you are, the stronger the magic." Bleys sighed in relief. "I'm so glad you understood that. I was unsure of how to explain it." He admitted to Harry.
"That's okay. I got it." Harry sipped his juice and frowned for a moment. "That does mean my magic will continue to get stronger as I get stronger?" Harry asked in concern.
"To a point. You do have limits to your strength. Think of it this way. Your body can only gain strength up to a certain level. Your magic will grow to match that level. No further than that level and it will remain there so long as you maintain that level of strength." Bleys looked at Harry and saw understanding there. "You are more than a wizard, Harry. The proper term for it 'magus' and very few people use that term, even from my time." Bleys told Harry with a grin. "They liked to call me a sorcerer." Bleys snorted the slightest bit and resumed eating.
"I'm a magus?" Harry asked.
"Magus, mage, sorcerer. They all mean the same thing to your wizards, but they are different." Bleys explained to him. "The hierarchy is not difficult to understand. At the bottom is what you call 'Muggles', or non-magic folk. The term is a misnomer. All 'Muggles' have magic. They are just unable to access it, except for certain times." Bleys gave Harry a sly look. "Any idea when that would be?" He asked his student.
Harry lowered his spoon and thought. When would Muggles be able to access hidden power? He remembered something he had read in a newspaper and smiled. "During times of great distress?" He answered, not entirely sure of himself but willing to try anyway. "Like lifting a heavy object off a child?" Harry had been impressed when he heard of a woman shorter than he was lifting a fallen tree off a little girl.
"Exactly right. Now, we have Muggles, regular animals, and Squibs at the bottom. They have magic but they cannot access it. The next step we have are the common variety of wizards and witches, along with creatures that can access and use their magic for their own desires. That would include your house elves, centaurs, trolls, dragons, goblins, and so on."
Harry stared at his teacher and then fell off his chair in laughter. Ordinary wizards and witches were grouped with house elves? Oh, he could hear the screaming of some of the purebloods from here! Umbridge would have to be readmitted to Saint Mungos. It was too good to be true! "If you are quite finished?" Bleys asked after a few minutes.
"Sorry. I know a lot of people who would be extremely upset at that." Harry said with a smile. "I can't wait to enlighten them." He gave an evil smirk as he resumed his seat.
"You have fun with that." Bleys told him. "The next step is magician. These are people who are able to use a wand easily, but may sometimes find themselves able to utilize wandless magic, usually during a time of great stress." Bleys nudged another muffin towards Harry. "Hmm. I think your friend Ron may be one of these. He has some power there." He told Harry. The teen nodded. That did sound like his friend.
"The next step is sorcery. This step is filled with those who are able to create magic spells for use by others. They have more than power. They have power and instinct. They can almost feel magic, but not quite able to tell that they can feel it." Bleys stopped at Harry's look. "Well, ask your question."
"Create magic spells? You can't create them." He told Bleys. "They just are."
"They are and they are not. They do have to come from somewhere, so someone 'created' them. 'Discovered' would be a better term." Bleys said patiently. "Most magic spells, the incantations and wand movements, were 'discovered' for those who could not call up enough power to work magic on their own. That is why Merlin is so popular. He created the use of a physical focus to allow magic to happen without the need for intense discipline. He allowed for wizards to appear." Bleys said.
"So, without Merlin, wizards wouldn't exist?" Harry asked, trying to understand everything.
"Yes and no. I don't believe that time would not allow for the developments to happen without a certain person there. It would have just happened at a different time and through a different person." Bleys explained.
"In other words, everyone can be replaced." Harry said.
"Exactly." Bleys said shortly. "Now, then. Where was I?" He asked rhetorically. "Oh, yes. Sorcerers. Your friend Hermione may be one of those. That Professor Snape, oh, certainly. He strikes me as a very strong sorcerer hiding behind the guise of 'magician'. Dumbledore, also." Bleys appeared to muse for a few seconds. "I think that covers that." He said as he refilled Harry's bowl with cereal.
"The last step, the one you and I are on, is called 'Magus'. We rely solely on instinct to use our magic. Magic is less like a tool and more like a partner in our lives." He explained.
"Is that why it talks?" Harry asked.
"Yes. Like any good partner, magic knows us enough to be able to be heard. It can be quite entertaining when it wants to be, almost like a house elf with too much energy. That does not mean it's a servant. You must take care of yourself. That will take care of your magic." Bleys pressed the idea of heath once more.
"So, am I the only one of my time?" Harry asked. "There has to be more, right?"
"I'm afraid that there is only one other with the power to be called 'magus'." Bleys said slowly. "Unfortunately, I was unable to reach him in time and he carried out several rituals that reduced his ability to hear his magic." Bleys gave Harry a significant look.
"You're talking about Voldemort, aren't you?" Harry asked with a resigned tone.
"Well, he did choose you as his equal." Bleys told Harry with a tone of regret.
"So, is he responsible for me being a magus?" Harry asked as he buttered his second muffin.
"I think so." Bleys told him. "Who are we to question the workings of Fate?" Bleys asked with a smile.
"Fate is…" Harry didn't get to finish his sarcastic comment. Bleys cut him off with a look.
"There are forces in the world that not even I question, Harry. You'd do well to remember that." Bleys said quietly but sternly.
"Right." Harry was a little doubtful, but didn't pursue the matter. Bleys could be odd from time to time. It looked like this was one of them. "So, that's it then. What about other creatures? Things like werewolves?"
"They are not magic themselves. They are sick with a magical illness they can't control. What's the word you use? 'Bug'?"
"Yes, but that's a slang term. We usually use 'disease' for a continued illness." Harry told him as he finished off his second bowl of cereal.
"Alright, well, it's the disease that's magic, not the person themselves."
"What if someone is magic and gets the disease?" Harry asked.
"You're thinking of your advisor, aren't you?" Bleys asked.
"Yes, actually." Harry told him.
"He can be helped, but not cured." Bleys said calmly. "Just know that whatever you try may not work. You have no limits outside your physical self, but that does not mean that your advisor will be able to handle what will happen." Bleys warned Harry.
"Okay." Harry wasn't sure if Remus would want to try to change anything about his lycanthropy. He figured that he could just ask. The worst Remus could say would be 'no'.
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"Come on, little one! Keep up!" Bleys bounded through the trees and laughed at Harry. "You must keep up!"
Harry glared at his teacher's back and wondered if the glare was one of killing proportions. Bleys had turned into a mental instructor the last few days and was running Harry into the figurative ground. Harry was now fourteen years old. He only had two weeks left with the man and Bleys appeared to be trying to get in all the time with Harry he could. "Harry! You are too slow!" Bleys called from some way off. Harry sighed and tried to move a little faster. He was tired and the hugging bed was waiting for him. He had been up late the night before, studying and trying to learn his lines. It was difficult when he didn't have anyone to read with. The phrasing for the lines was different than Shakespeare. It didn't have the same beat and Harry missed that beat. He just couldn't figure out what Dracula was all about…except for blood. Even that didn't make sense. He hated to admit it, but he needed Bevie's help. Dracula wasn't coming alive like Edmund had.
"Imperio!" Harry felt a strange calm settle over him. He mentally rolled his eyes. Bleys would do this now when Harry was exhausted and not ready to fight him off. "Spin around."
"No." Harry said in a bored voice. "You should know better, Bleys." Harry said with a smirk. "I've always—"
"Crucio!" Bleys snapped. Harry dropped to the ground under the curse, grateful that Bleys had given him that split-second warning of a spoken incantation. He shut his eyes in concentration and he felt the spell start to diminish from the pain of his entire skeletal system breaking to nothing more than a slight evisceration. He jerked from the curse and felt it dissipate. "Very good!" Bleys praised Harry as the boy say up.
"Yeah, thanks." Harry said dryly. "Is this really necessary?" He asked.
"Crucio!" Bleys said again. Guess it is. Harry held himself upright as he started the process again. He smiled when he noticed that the spell no longer held the same effects. It was becoming easier to determine where the line was between his own magic and that of the Cruciatus and Imperius curses. He and Bleys had been working on the Unforgivables for the past two weeks and Harry was learning a lot about what made magic essentially work in his body and surroundings. He ended the spell and looked up at Bleys with a smirk. "Crucio!" Harry closed his eyes again and separated his magic from that of the spell and opened his eyes a second later. "Well done, Harry." Bleys said with pride in his eyes. He pulled Harry to his feet and wrapped the boy in a hug. Harry leaned into his teacher and sighed.
"It's becoming much easier now." Harry told his teacher.
"Good. It's meant to be easy." Bleys told him as he turned Harry back towards the cottage.
"Were you always this sadistic to your students?" Harry asked as he walked pressed against Bleys's side. He didn't like the idea of leaving. Here he was safe. No Voldemort. No Dumbledore. No wizarding world with their misplaced adulation, fawning at his feet. Here he was just Harry and found that he was able to enjoy the instinctual magic that was now second nature to him.
"Just the special ones." Bleys answered him with an affectionate hand through Harry's hair.
"Guess I'm really special." Harry said with an innocent air.
"The most special." Bleys continued the banter. Harry rolled his eyes. No wonder Bleys was so rough with him. "Do you understand the nature of the Unforgivable spells yet?"
Harry looked over at his teacher and bent his mind to the question. Harry was able to throw off any spell Bleys cared to hurl at him. He could ignore most of them as a matter of course. The first year spells he had learned at Hogwarts were nothing much for him to notice. Spells he learned in Defense classes (and out of Defense classes) took no more than a blink of the eye to vanish. The Unforgivables, well, Imperius and Cruciatus spells, were thrown off with just a few breaths and a moment of calm. Bleys swore that Harry would be able to disregard them the same way he did with first year spells by the end of his visit. "The Unforgivable spells are constructed the same as any other spell and can be treated magically the same as all other spells." Harry told his teacher.
"Excellent, Harry. You've learned a lot since you came back." Bleys said, pleased at Harry's answer.
"Thank you, Bleys." Harry said with a smile. "I've enjoyed learning it all."
"I do not have much more to teach you." Bleys admitted. "In fact, just a few days more practice will enable you to throw off those Unforgivable curses without a thought. That method will become automatic." Bleys said with a sad sort of smile.
"We still have two weeks. You can't have taught me everything I need to know." Harry argued. Bleys had how many years of magic to call on? There had to be something more he could teach Harry.
"Nothing of importance and nothing you won't learn by yourself in time." Bleys stopped Harry and sat on a log. He pulled Harry down beside him and wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders. Harry leaned into the half-hug and smiled. He liked this. "Son, you have such knowledge of magic. More than knowledge. An instinct. Not everyone has that, not even I. Everything I have taught you came to me from my own teacher and my own studies, studies that took quite some time and a lot of effort. You need no such effort." Bleys told him as he looked over at Harry. "You are more of a magus than I can teach, Harry."
Harry felt his breath catch in his throat. He hated being different and now Bleys was telling him that he was different. "I can't be." Harry protested. He didn't want to be different!
"No, you are." Bleys said with a knowing look. "I know you too well, son. You are a very powerful magus, Harry. Very special. Magic will guide you after you leave me. I have nothing further I can give you." Bleys said as he tightened his hold on Harry. He didn't want the boy to leave, but he had to allow his student, especially this student, to continue on to face his destiny. He could only hope that he had managed to prepare him with what little he had to offer.
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Harry stood at the window of the cottage and stared out into the forest. His hand was petting Alden's head and his mind was anywhere but in the cottage. He was going home today. It had been a difficult sixteen weeks (of which he could only remember fourteen). He had studied every aspect of magic Bleys had for him and had mastered everything Bleys set before him. He had no doubts about his wandless magic. It was instinctual. He couldn't see himself using a wand ever again. It was too awkward, a hindrance to what now came naturally. He did not need to think about magic to do magic. He was able to go beyond feeling the magic behind his eyes and in his fingertips. He could sense it everywhere now, could approach magic not his own and ask it to do things for him. He could feel the pulse of it in his surroundings and direct it where he wanted. He was not using magic; he was magic.
"Are you ready to leave, Harry?" Bleys's voice broke Harry out of his thoughts. Harry turned to face his teacher with a resigned look. Harry knew he had to leave, that he had to return to himself and finish what he had started. He knew that Voldemort would be waiting for his 'student', Aunt Petunia would want her nephew, and Paul would be going frantic. It was time for him to go home. This was going to be hard for the two of them. Bleys had explained his reasoning behind his earlier mistakes with Harry and Harry could accept that the man wanted to give Harry some real life experience. Bleys had studied Voldemort's casting abilities and had mimicked them so Harry was fighting off 'the real thing', so to speak. In other words, Harry could now fight off Voldemort's favorite spells without a single flinch. The skill was useful to have. Harry would no longer need to tell Sensei that Voldemort had used certain spells on him. The spells would no longer affect Harry if he didn't want them to affect him.
"Yes, sir." Harry answered him. "I can't believe I won't be coming back here." Harry's statement was the truth. He couldn't understand that this was it. This was the last time he would take refuge in his own mind, that Bleys would not be a sentient being inside his head, waiting for Harry to seek out help. It was going to be strange, knowing that Bleys was not there anymore, that Harry was on his own.
"You act like we'll never see each other again." Bleys said as he stepped forward and rested his hands on Harry's upper arms. The boy had grown too tall to allow Bleys to rest his hands on Harry's shoulders anymore.
"Well, we aren't." Harry said, just a little confused. "Not really." Harry looked at Bleys's face and frowned. "What aren't you telling me?" Harry asked suspiciously.
"There is always a chance that we will see each other in the afterlife, Harry. You never know. Just hope." Bleys told the boy. "You've been an excellent student, son. It was an honor to teach you and watch you grow." Bleys said honestly as he squeezed Harry's arms.
"Thank you." Harry said as he stepped forward and wrapped his teacher in a hug. "For everything." He took a deep breath and tried not to sound like he was going to cry. This was going to be hard enough.
"There is no need to thank me." Bleys said calmly. "You learned what I had to teach. Nothing more." Bleys said as he stepped back from Harry and took the boy's hand. He led his student over to the couch. "You know that Dumbledore most likely removed you to Hogwarts." Bleys laid the fact before Harry.
"Yes, sir." Harry answered. "I can't imagine what else he would do with me." Harry knew that Dumbledore would be ecstatic to have Harry back in the magical world, much less at Hogwarts. It would be an awkward situation.
"Make sure he doesn't know the real you." Bleys said as he gestured at Harry's new "look". "He would use you beyond your limits. You've reached what is known as a magical maturation. Everyone has them. You have no further steps to take in growing magically. Dumbledore may try to use you, or your abilities, before you've grown into them. Let him underestimate you. Let him think you a child. He will be hard-pressed to keep up with you once you reveal the levels of which you are capable." Bleys counseled the boy sitting next to him.
"That's a good idea. Hermione's told me a few things…things I wish I hadn't heard." Harry allowed silence to fall as he looked around the cottage and then over at his teacher. "Thank you again, Bleys. I don't think I could have done this without you." Harry admitted.
"You couldn't have." Bleys agreed. "But you would have found a way." Bleys stood again and sighed. "You must return now, Harry. There are people waiting for you." Harry stood and looked down at his teacher.
"Yes, Master Bleys." Harry said solemnly. "I do have people waiting for me." He agreed. "I'm ready." Bleys smiled at him and just crossed his arms. Harry closed his eyes and reached for his magic. He could do this on his own. He touched the power within him and felt something change and then a jolt. He jerked as he felt something beneath his back instead of something below his feet.
Harry opened his eyes and looked around. The shield surrounding him disappeared and he sat up. He recognized this place and wondered why he always managed to end up in Hospital Wing, even though he had not attended classes at Hogwarts this year. He was stiff as he fought his way to his feet and stretched. Stars twinkled outside the windows. Harry padded over to the closest window and looked out at the grounds of Hogwarts and the Forbidden Forest. He could almost feel "Harry Potter" settle on him as the longer he stood there.
"You are awake!" A happy snake voice said. Harry looked down to find Zen looking up at him. "You are so different! And so powerful! This is wonderful! Think of all the fun we can have now! All the mice I can eat!" Harry smirked and bent down to pick up Zen.
"You are determined to become large and round, aren't you?" He asked the snake.
"Oh, lightening child, your voice is so much deeper. Oh! You are no longer a child, but a man! Wonderful news! The others will appreciate hearing this!" Zen said as he wrapped around Harry's wrist.
"Others?" Harry questioned sharply.
"The little green creatures that bring me a mouse." Zen explained calmly. Oh, house elves. Nothing to worry about then.
"I'm going to take a shower and then get dressed." Harry told the little snake he was holding. "You stay here. Did you cause any trouble while I was asleep?"
"I protected your bag." Zen said proudly. "And I danced." Harry looked down at the snake with a shuttered look. Dancing? Strange.
"Good for you." Harry said as he moved his bag under the nightstand. He called up his magic and found a Hogwarts uniform appear on his bed. It looked a trifle small for him. Dumbledore would have chosen this, of course, not knowing Harry's true size. He gathered up the uniform, told Zen to stay where he was, and entered the bathroom in his room. He stripped quickly and started his shower. He didn't want to be vulnerable for any longer than necessary. He knew that he would be watched every minute he was here. He didn't want to give Dumbledore any access to what Harry knew.
Harry climbed out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He cleared the mirror and studied himself. He was taller and more filled out. Bleys said that this was what he should have looked like all along, if it hadn't been for Vernon's plan of removing magic from Harry's body. He was well-toned, but not massive. His height nearly brushed six feet and his carriage made him look taller, as though he was studying everyone below him, not eye to eye. He looked stronger and faster. In other words, he now looked like the hero everyone thought him to be. He frowned and concentrated on his magic. The bones shrank, the muscles thinned, and the confidence faded just the slightest bit. There, he was now "Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived once more.
He pulled on the uniform and dug out his glasses from his bag. He nearly poked himself in the eye when he tried to remove his contacts. He hated when he forgot to take them out and he fell asleep with them. His eyes always felt horrible the next morning. He stowed his contacts away and tied the stupid tie. He didn't mind them, he really didn't, but why would anyone in their right minds give a bunch of hormonal children the perfect weapons with which to strangle each other?
Harry nearly jumped a mile when his door flew open. His wand (now an almost useless piece of wood) was in his hand and pointed at the intruder within the time it took his brain to register that the intruder was no one other than the school nurse herself. "Mr. Potter! What in the world are you doing out of bed?" She demanded as she bustled over to Harry. "That's right. Back into bed with you, young man!" She informed him as she pushed him back to the bed.
"I'm fine, Madame Pomfrey. Just a little confused as to how I got here." He admitted honestly. He would like to know the details of his arrival.
"Sit." Madame Pomfrey ordered. She startled the slightest bit when Zen slithered his way onto Harry's leg. Harry reached down and petted the snake with a smile. It wasn't every day that you could startle the nurse. "The headmaster had Professor Snape bring you back here." She told Harry as she started scanning him for any residual dark magic or injuries. "There was a magical shield around you and I couldn't do anything at all." She said tersely as she motioned for him to stand. "There doesn't seem to be any ill effects, but I'm keeping you here for observation until tomorrow. I'm guessing you are hungry?" She asked.
"A little. Is my aunt here?" he asked.
"She has been notified." Pomfrey said as she finished her scans. "Just like every other time."
"I guess I have my answer." Harry said with a disparaging smile. Aunt Petunia would be here with the entire cavalry if she knew what happened. She must not know yet, or if she does know, she doesn't know where I am. He stayed on his bed as ordered when the nurse disappeared to order a tray of food for him. He didn't want to incur her wrath. Dumbledore he could deal with. Poppy Pomfrey…not so much.
He was halfway through with his tray when he noticed that the sun had risen and was just peeking over the top of the trees. He didn't feel the same now. He used to love watching the sun come up while at Hogwarts. Now, he wasn't so sure what he felt. Not the same and that was all he knew. He sipped the juice and grimaced at the taste. The pumpkin juice was a little too sweet this morning. He returned the cup to his tray and finished the cereal and fruit given to him. He was about to pull out his Mini-Messenger to talk to Hermione when he felt more than saw someone in the doorway. He looked up to see Headmaster Dumbledore standing there.
"Good morning, Harry." Dumbledore said as he stepped into the room. Harry sat up a bit straighter as Dumbledore came up to the bed.
"Headmaster." Harry returned, only with the slightest bit of respect in his voice. Dumbledore was not his favorite person right now and he didn't want the man to think he was forgiven.
"You gave us quite a fright, young man." Dumbledore said as he conjured an armchair next to Harry's bed. "It's good to see you, my boy." He reached into a pocket and offered a small tin towards Harry. "Cockroach Cluster, Harry?"
Some things never change. Harry thought to himself as he tightened his Occlumency shields. Dumbledore clearly wasn't above peeking into Harry's mind. "No, thank you." Harry said calmly. "Does my aunt know I'm here?" He asked shortly.
"She has been informed of your safety." Dumbledore said.
"She doesn't want me here." Harry told the headmaster tightly. He didn't want to remain at Hogwarts any longer than he had to stay there. He wasn't above threatening Dumbledore with his aunt in 'mother bear' mode. He deserved it.
"She does not have a say in it now." Dumbledore said affably. "Voldemort's latest attack has allowed me to step in as a magical guardian, Harry. You can stay here at Hogwarts year round now." Harry wondered if Dumbledore wanted him to be excited about this. "No more Dursleys. Isn't that wonderful?" Harry had to wonder when Dumbledore had lost the last of his lemon drops.
"Year round?" Harry asked. "I thought I had to return to Privet Drive each year?" Harry wasn't going down without a fight. He didn't want to be at Hogwarts and he was going to let Dumbledore know that.
"It's not that important." Dumbledore said. "You are home, you are safe, and that is all that matters." Dumbledore said as he stood up and banished his chair. "Madame Pomfrey will release you shortly. We both know you don't want to be in here any longer than necessary." Dumbledore twinkled and patted Harry's shoulder. "Your friends are on their way up to see you and they will direct you to your dorm."
"I know where Gryffindor tower is, Headmaster." Harry said in a short voice. "I want to go home." He told the man as Dumbledore started to open the door.
"My dear boy, you are home." Dumbledore told him as he left Harry's private room. Harry stared after Dumbledore. It looked like he was going to have to leave Hogwarts on his own. He stood and a phrase came back to him. What did "magical guardian" mean?
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Author's Note: Look, no mean cliffhanger! That means no death threats! Yay! I'm off to celebrate my return to classes.