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Hi everybody! Here's chapter two, with edits. Sorry about the wait. I've been losing interest in Harry Potter for a while now (seriously, J. K. fucking Rowling can kiss my trans ass). I intend on finishing this fic one day, but for now I'm going to go on a hiatus. For now, I hope this helps tide you over.

To Ed's surprise, Dumbledore and him landed in a place familiar to the blond alchemist: Privet Drive, the street where Harry and his family lived. However, the young man did not ask a question and just watched the neighborhood lit up by the city lights darken little by little while the old professor used a kind of lighter to suck up all the surrounding glow. Edward had a sarcastic comment about the danger this could pose to Muggle drivers: he was not sure that the old wizard, despite his gift for seeming omniscient, understood what he wanted to talk about.

Instead, Ed stared at Privet Drive 4 and in particular at the window on the first floor behind which he had seemed to glimpse a movement. Obviously, Dumbledore seemed to be expected by at least one occupant of the house. Edward wondered with a small smile what Harry would do when he saw that he was accompanying Dumbledore and, better still, he tried to imagine the reaction of the Dursleys when they understood that the charming young man who had been giving their son private lessons was a wizard... That could be fun, all in all, and Ed was in dire need of a change of pace after all he had been through.

Professor Dumbledore, after finally finishing his little camouflage work, rang the doorbell. Even from behind the door, Edward distinctly heard Mr. Dursley growling, complaining that they were coming to disturb them at this late hour.

"This is getting better and better," Edward thought with a sardonic smile: if Harry's uncle was not even aware of their arrival, the evening was off to an interesting and entertaining appearance. Not to mention that Dumbledore's outfit (a cape, wizard's robe and pointed hat) stood in stark contrast to the normality that emanated from the subdivision house, typical of residential neighborhoods in the London suburbs. Finally, he had done well to come because the confrontation to come was growing more and more funny for those who went to watch the show. He hoped Harry was sufficiently recovered from Sirius' death to enjoy the show...

When the door opened, Professor Dumbledore said amiably:

"Good evening, you must be Mr. Dursley, I guess Harry told you I was coming to get him."

Judging by Vernon Dursley's stunned look at the benevolent look of the wizard, which was practically a copy of the ideas that the people of this world had about a certain Merlin, he was not aware of their coming. Edward, seeing Mr Dursley's eyes widen as he saw him behind the venerable wizard, gave him a small wave of his hand, with a kind smile and a "good evening" trumpeting him. It had been several weeks since he had not had so much fun and no one could honestly blame him for laughing at the expense of Harry's uncle, right?

"Judging by your expression of outright disbelief, Harry did not warn you of my arrival," continued Professor Dumbledore gently, before continuing: "But make it as if you had warmly invited me to your house- it is not wise to linger long on the threshold of a house in these troubled times..."

Then, with a sense of embarrassment that did not pose any problem to Edward, they entered the house. While Dumbledore filled the silence with a discussion about gardening, Edward was looking for Harry and found him half hidden on the steps of the stairs, watching the conversation. Regardless of this poor attempt at espionage, the young alchemist waved to him and Dumbledore was quick to say hello to him too, giving Harry a warm, caring look.

The old wizard's friendly tone seemed to aggravate Mr Dursley's mood. He was beginning to flush and to express his indignation at this untimely entrance before Professor Dumbledore cut him off again with wise words about silence and politeness. Edward sometimes had the impression of being in front of his father, a person who could disarm a conflict just by ignoring it completely and just because of that, Edward doubted that he could get along with Dumbledore completely. Not to mention the indiscretion committed by the Headmaster towards him by subjecting him to his twisted test...

Pushing those thoughts away for later, Edward watched as the old wizard greeted Petunia who seemed as shocked by Dumbledore's arrival as by the fact that Ed was also a wizard, judging by how her eyes went from him to the professor. Dudley Dursley had the same expression of crass stupidity as last year, even if the astonishment made him look even less intelligent, which Edward would never have thought possible. Harry had come down the stairs and now gave him a quizzical look to which Edward silently answered with a "He asked me to come after finding me, I don't know any more than you do..."

Meanwhile, Professor Dumbledore had even invited himself to sit in the Dursley's living room, seeing that the small family did not react, still shocked at the old wizard's arrival. Edward decided to mimic the carelessness on the verge of rudeness of Professor Dumbledore, thinking that he at least had the excuse of a bad example, settling comfortably in a chair opposite the Headmaster. Shortly thereafter, the three members of the Dursley family were "invited" to sit on the couch, magically moved thanks to Professor Dumbledore.

At that moment, Edward noticed the blackened hand that he had not noticed until now because of the darkness where it had been plunged. He saw that Harry had noticed it as well and was about to question Professor Dumbledore, but in a predictable way, he dismissed this topic of conversation with a simple "later". But Edward would have liked to know what might have been powerful enough to reach the old man as well.

The latter spoke again, this time addressing Mr. Dursley:

"I thought you were going to offer me refreshments but from what I've seen so far, it seems like it would be optimism close to foolishness."

After these words, the old wizard brought out an old bottle and six glasses that he filled generously and flew to each of the occupants of the room. Edward seized his with suspicion and sipped carefully, warned by his experience with the firewhiskey, but the alcohol was not as strong in this drink which had a taste quite closer to Butterbeer. Clearly, it was pretty tasty and Ed enjoyed it. He had a hard time laughing when he saw the way the glasses had tapped the foreheads of the three Dursleys who refused to accept anything offered by anyone of their kind. As expected, the evening promised to be happier than he had expected and he openly flashed a smirk.

Then, Dumbledore began to address the difficult subject of the ingeritance left by Sirius Black, Harry's godfather. Out of discretion the alchemist pretended not to hear anything, even though he managed to grasp that Harry was apparently inheriting a large sum of gold and the personal belongings of his godfather. Unfortunately, the personal conversation between Harry and his mentor was regularly interrupted by Vernon Dursley and his lack of tact as well as his greed. Ed saw with a slight amusement that the glasses became more and more insistent with the three Dursleys, but he quickly stopped paying attention to them to take up the problem of 12 Grimmauld Place.

Apparently, because of the testimony and legal harassment of the pureblood wizards, the ancestral home could very well be inherited by Black's cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, from sinister memory. In case this disastrous assumption proved correct, the Order of the Phoenix had to evacuate the old house urgently. It remained to be seen how Dumbledore would verify that 12 Grimmauld Place was part of Harry's property. It was then that Dumbledore was interrupted by the cry of Vernon Dursley:

"Will you get rid of these damn things?!"

Edward could not resist and burst out laughing at the way the family was attacked by their glasses, spilling the mysterious drink all over them. Dumbledore excused himself and made the glasses disappear while reproaching the Dursleys for not having accepted the refreshments. Then the Headmaster picked up from where he had left off, saying that Harry, besides Sirius' house, had also inherited his house elf, Kreacher.

The magical being seemed to demonstrate some reluctance to enter Harry's service and the young wizard himself seemed reluctant to use the elf who according to last year's explanations was partly responsible for Sirius' death. But the Boy-Who-Lived quickly came to his senses and finally ordered Kreacher to be quiet. Edward watched in fascination as to how a sort of magical current was created between his friend and the elf, even if it seemed to be done reluctantly. The alchemist knew from his studies that the current would allow the elf to have access to the great current of power from the Gate of this world. It was the kind of thing Edward saw more and more since his adventure in the Department of Mysteries, when he saw the Portal of Truth of this world in the form of the Veil. Another mystery to add to his collection.

Edward returned to the current discussion, which now dealt with a hippogriff named Buckbeak who apparently belonged to Sirius. Then came the moment when Professor Dumbledore asked Harry if he had prepared his suitcase. The latter was troubled, a sign that he had not, and he rushed to the stairs, quickly followed by Edward. The blond shouted that he was going to help him, largely because he did not want to stay in the den with the tension in the room.

Harry noticed the blond had not grown much in two weeks, but the opposite would have been even more amazing. However, he decided not to point out this, ahem, little fact to his friend who was very likely already very aware of the subject... He continued to wear the red coat he had worn at the Department of Mysteries, apparently feeling comfortable in it.

"So," Edward asked as he climbed the stairs to his room, "how have you been doing?"

"I've been okay," Harry said as he rushed to his room, "I got a lot of letters about you when you disappeared at King's Cross station. Everyone was wondering where you were. "

The letters came from Ron and Hermione as well as from the Order of the Phoenix. Everyone had feared that the boy had been kidnapped by the Death Eaters and that his body would be found in the days to come, but Harry was not too worried about it. During the past year, he had come to know Edward well with his reluctance to follow orders and his fully owned independence. He was certain that his friend had simply taken off to be able to live without being to told what to do by the Order of the Phoenix.

"I did not want to be locked up somewhere, thank you very much!" Ed growled in a bad mood.

"Does that mean that the fact that Professor Dumbledore found you was not planned?" The Boy-Who-Lived asked with a wry smile, opening the door of his room.

"Oh, okay, Mr. Chosen One..." Edward muttered as he walked into the room and pointed to one of the stacks of newspapers on the window sill.

"Please ... you're not going to put yourself there either!" Harry begged, starting to pack his things or stuff them loose in his trunk.

Edward sighed at his friend's very… special sense of organization and began to go behind his friend to try and arrange the impending disaster.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to bother you about it." The alchemist laughs, folding things quickly before placing them in the large suitcase.

"Did you have time to read the newspapers?" The Boy-Who-Lived asked as he straightened the stacks of unfinished homework into one of the pockets of his trunk.

"Yes, no problem, I know what's going on with wizards and muggles." Edward replied shrugging his shoulders while carefully corking some vials of concoctions.

"What do you think of Scrimgeour?" Harry asked curiously. He was in charge of the Brockdale Bridge after it was attacked by the Death Eaters."

"He's a smarter guy than Fudge, which isn't exactly hard," grumbled the young Amestrian, putting the vials in the box of the Potions kit. "He's an old politician and an old auror. I'd rather have the Auror who acts like a politician than a moron who doesn't know what he's talking about."

"So you were there, in the Brockdale Bridge case. It took a little time for me to figure it, but it became obvious..." Harry commented, rummaging through the hiding place under the floor of his room to remove the treats hidden in it.

"How did you know?" Ed asked curiously before slapping his forehead mentally: he had just revealed it!

"I figured it out when I saw pictures of the ugly pillars on the repaired bridge. You have weird taste, you know." declared the Boy-Who-Lived, chuckling at the outraged expression of his friend.

"My style is cool, thank you very much. Yes, I was there by chance and I stopped it my way, but that did not stop one of those bastards from murdering a girl in front of me." Edward whispered in a dark voice, throwing empty bottles and broken feathers into the trash that cluttered the trunk and floor of the room.

"But you saved dozens of people by acting, at least you did something." Said the raven-haired wizard as he gathered his Firebolt and his photo album that were part of his most precious possessions.

"The Daily Prophet presented the facts differently," the alchemist commented.

Harry gave him a mocking look, clearly saying, "Who believes the Prophet completely anymore?" But he understood by seeing his friend's gloomy air that it was a sensitive subject: like him, he had to feel responsible for the person he could not save. Hermione would be glad to know that she would now have two people on her hands with a hero complex... At least now, he was not alone anymore.

"And what do you think of safety measures recommended by the Ministry?" asked the Boy-Who-Lived, wanting the opinion of the professional that was Edward for that kind of thing.

"Not very useful for most, but the idea of code between members of a group is interesting." Edward commented, stacking the grimoires in the suitcase with the utmost care.

"I'd already know which one to use with you," Harry smirked as he balanced his scales and copper telescope in his cauldron.

"If you dare say that I'm small, I'll hit you on your head so hard that only the bumps will still allow you to be the same size as me!" warned the blond and very sensitive teen.

"It's really you!" The wizard laughed, bursting into laughter at his friend's grumpy look.

"Very funny," Ed mumbled as he put the cauldron in the space that was left in the trunk: there was not even a need to climb on it to force it shut.

"You're a storage maniac, aren't you?" Harry said grabbing the handle of the suitcase.

"Let's say I know how to keep my things in order, unlike some." Edward replied, raising an eyebrow at Harry. "My desk in Ravenclaw always was covered with a lot of books, but I knew how to find my way in. My disorder is carefully ordered and woe to whoever touches it!"

Harry did not comment and started down the stairs as Edward helped him hold one of the handles of the suitcase. The atmosphere downstairs was still tense and their departure would be welcome. Nevertheless, before that, Dumbledore wanted to say a few things. The first was about Voldemort who was back. Because of this, the Headmaster wanted the Dursley to welcome Harry until he was seventeen. He also took the opportunity to rebuke the Dursleys for the way they treated Harry and raised Dudley. Edward had known the obese boy enough to know that the damage inflicted was not physical, but rather moral and behavioral. The Dursley's son would probably have great difficulties in his life later.

Clearly, the Dursleys had not understood Dumbledore's point, even though Dudley looked strangely pensive. Nevertheless, despite the reproach for abuse that had outraged them, the family agreed to take Harry back for next year one last time before he left permanently. Harry left after a hurried "goodbye." Edward contented himself with a sardonic smirk that made the Dursleys shudder. Then, after that, the group of three went, in the words of Dumbledore, off in pursuit of the wayward temptress called Adventure.

The night was calm, but nevertheless, Professor Dumbledore told them to have their wands in hand just in case. Edward, who was definitely not used to using this instrument, had to dig through the bag where he kept all his belongings, most of which had been miniaturized before his departure from Hogwarts and which he had not touched since. Working magic had not been his priority in the last two weeks and since the Brockdale incident he had not touched the wizards' favorite tool, blaming it unconsciously for his failure.

Once he had his wand in hand, the teen walked after Dumbledore and Harry. He was not afraid of an outrageous attack: even if the Headmaster looked badly wounded in his right hand, the alchemist was convinced that he was still capable of real wonders in magic. In fact, he was certain that he would be able to take most Death Eaters, apart from Voldemort and members of the dark wizard's inner circle, down a couple pegs with only a few spells. Anyway, Dumbledore himself was also not very worried about a possible attack given his confident answer.

When they reached the end of the street drowned in the dark, the trio stopped and Dumbledore asked them if they had their Licenses to Apparate. Harry said no, and Edward had simply never heard of it. They would therefore have to resort to Side-Along Apparition by clinging to the old wizard's left arm. Edward had a bad feeling when he and Harry gripped the director's left arm and he was not disappointed when he had the horrible feeling of being squeezed through a pipe, unable to breathe he felt so pressed on all sides by magic. Finally, they landed in another place and Edward immediately fell to his knees trying to quell his nausea. Harry looked slightly better than him, but only barely.

Albus Dumbledore asked him how he felt. Edward mumbled with deep conviction that he hated all forms of wizarding transportation and that next time he would be taking the train, the only civilized means of transport here. Harry seemed to share his opinion, except that he preferred brooms, which, whatever, nobody was perfect...

After a few moments of walking in the middle of the deserted village, Dumbledore seemed to decide to ask Harry a question:

"Tell me, Harry, your scar, does it hurt?"

Harry said no, although he would have thought it would hurt him permanently now that Voldemort had become so powerful. Dumbledore seemed satisfied and expressed the almost certain assumption that the dark wizard was now using Occlumency against Harry.

"Good," said the latter. "But I had made great progress in the last few months and he could not show me anything anymore. The only time he was able to penetrate my thoughts was the day of the History of Magic exam."

"Indeed, I understand that you have made a lot of progress in Occlumency, and I must say that I am satisfied that you and Professor Snape have agreed to work together despite your differences."

Harry made a weird noise that could be considered an acquiescence or denial before he declared honestly to give back to Caesar what is Caesar's:

"Without Edward and his advice, I would never have done it, and in the end it was Ed who was using Legilimency under Sn- Professor Snape's control." Harry corrected himself before he thought he might have kept this information confidential.

"Yes... I understood that, according to Severus, you have a gift in Legilimency, in addition to Occlumency... Your demonstration in the Department of Mysteries was indeed the proof of a brilliant talent, although a terribly dangerous one." Dumbledore said to Edward this time, who shrugged.

"Who knows, I do not like to use Legilimency, because for me it's almost rape, but at least this time it showed that it could be useful to save someone's life." declared the alchemist bitterly.

"Um ... Professor Dumbledore, where are we exactly?" Harry asked as much out of curiosity as to divert the thread from a conversation that seemed to annoy Ed.

According to Professor Dumbledore, they were in the charming village of Budleigh Babberton, in order to recruit a new teacher to the educational facility of Hogwarts or more exactly, a former colleague of Dumbledore. Harry then asked some questions about why they had not flown, the answer being rudeness and the presence of an anti-Apparition barrier. The conversation then turned to politics with the dismissal of Fudge and the arrival of Scrimgeour as minister. Unfortunately, Dumbledore was as chilly in revelations about his apparent disagreement with the minister as about what happened to his right hand.

Then Harry directed the discussion to the ministry pamphlet that everyone, including Dumbledore, had received. Although the Headmaster's smile clearly showed all the good he thought of the brochure, the Boy-Who-Lived was entitled to a disguised rebuke when Dumbledore told him that he had asked any personal information known only to them to identify him . At the same time, Dumbledore was the kind of person on which one seemed to know a lot without having personal information on him...

Then Harry asked what an Inferi was and Dumbledore explained in a very calm voice that it was a corpse bewitched by a Dark Mage to obey them. At that moment, terrifying images of the Promised Day appeared in Edward's mind. He turned pale and trembled on his legs as he thought of those horrible puppets of white flesh, thirsting for life and impossible to stop. Falling to his knees again, this time, Edward's stomach could not bear the shock and he vomited profusely before getting up again, his flushed face dripping with sweat while whispering while remaining as vague as possible: "It's nothing ... maybe a memory ".

"It seems, Edward, that you've already met such a creature." Professor Dumbledore not-quite-asked, still searching for information while cleaning the vomit on the boy's face with a wave of his wand.

"It's possible ..." said Edward, dismissing from his memory that day of fear, which he definitely did not want to remember now alongside a master in Legilimency: "I also remember that the fire was very effective, is that right? "

"Yes, but Voldemort killed enough people to build up a real army." Dumbledore said.

Suddenly, the old wizard stopped suddenly: the door of the house they were heading towards lay on the ground, shattered...