A/N: A huge thank you to Larxenne for editing. You are truly an amazing English nerd (and I say that with much reverence).
To answer a question by henriette, Harry looks like himself again, but is a little taller. Thanks for asking!
Enjoy!
Chapter 7: The Interview
Harry apparated back to his flat silently with Fawkes gripping tightly to his shoulder with his talons. Harry's emotions were raging. His love for the bird was rivaled only by his admiration for and curiosity about him. When they arrived, Fawkes took a lap around the room, dropped something on Harry's head, and landed on the perch.
Harry stooped to pick up what Fawkes had dropped. It was a thin letter addressed with in black ink with loopy handwriting. Harry recognized the writing as Dumbledore's. He tore it open and slipped out the single piece of paper within it. He read it, taking joy in seeing the loopy handwriting for the first time in over twenty years of his memory.
Dear Mr. Crockett,
Thank you for submitting your candidacy for the position of Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. I am holding position interviews tomorrow in my office at Hogwarts. Would you be available at ten-o-clock? I have another appointment at 11, and couldn't possibly be persuaded to miss my lunch after that. I do hope this isn't too short of a notice. Also, please tell your phoenix friend that he is welcome to transport himself directly into my office to save the trip. I look forward to meeting the man who has won the loyalty of such a magnificent companion.
Yours,
Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Harry quickly jot down his response ("Professor Dumbledore, I will be at your office at ten tomorrow. Thank you. Best, Harry Crockett"), feeling strange being quite so distant and formal with his old mentor.
"Fawkes," Harry said, "Dumbledore said—," but Fawkes had already taken off, scooped the letter out of Harry's hand, and vanished in a ball of flame.
"I guess he got the message…" muttered Harry. He stood around lamely for several minutes until he remembered the phoenix book in his bag. He summoned it, and settled down in an armchair to read.
The book covered everything from dietary maintenance to mythology. While reading through, Harry was especially interested to learn how especially rare phoenixes were. Though phoenixes cannot die involuntarily and may choose to live forever, the population rarely increases due to their independent nature. They rarely seek mates, and females usually choose to lay only one or two eggs in their lifetime, after which they usually choose to burn and not be reborn.
In the dietary section, Harry found out that phoenixes normally foraged for themselves and ate a number of different plants, but the smoking plant that Fawkes had eaten earlier that day was fairly rare and accelerated the phoenix's regenerative process. Harry wondered how Fawkes had found a sample so quickly.
Next, Harry read about phoenix's temperament. He read that (and Dumbledore's words came back to him) phoenixes are very loyal when they do decide to forgo their independence. They feel a strong empathetic bond to their human companions ("You have no idea," Harry told the book) or phoenix mates, to the point where if their companion should die, the phoenix may choose not to be reborn. Male phoenixes often burn with their female mates after the females lay their egg. If the male did not burn with the female, he would become exceptionally wrought with grief and would revive his mate with his own tears.
Harry read about all the theories behind phoenix teleportation, which were vague enough that Harry was sure they hadn't been proven. He briefly studied a map of the phoenix anatomy, and read with interest the various known uses for the feathers. The tail feathers were very powerful, and were used as wand cores (which Harry already knew), and specific very potent and powerful potions. The body feathers were occasionally sold at ridiculously high prices as quills.
Fawkes returned when Harry was still deeply immersed in the book.
"How was Dumbledore?" asked Harry. From within Fawkes, Harry could feel a powerful positive emotion. He assumed that it meant something along the lines of "he seemed very well."
Harry decided he needed to prepare for his interview. He knew that he would be the most qualified magically, and that at least one of his competition would be rejected on principle, but he worried that his history might not check out as well as the other competitors. He still hadn't interacted with anyone regularly enough to have a rehearsed story, and he needed to prepare. He had his basic story laid out; he had been homeschooled by overprotective parents, and had been working as a venture capitalist ever since. He was experienced in Defense against the Dark Arts because many people had become attracted to his wealth and suspicious of his activities. He had made sort of a hobby out of privately bringing down crime organizations. He hoped he wouldn't have to get that far, however. He rather hoped he'd just get the job on default without being asked too many questions.
He went to bed that night feeling prepared, and woke up a little nervous. He ate breakfast in the morning in his apartment.
His apartment was very simple. His closet stood on a wall and was filled with his rather glorious robe collection, but the main decor was made up of stands for each of his soul objects. There was a hat rack for the hat, angled broom stand for the broomstick, a shelf for the records, and so on.
But now all of the stands were empty. He had packed all of his important possessions into his bag; he was very protective of them and took them everywhere. Fawkes had been out finding food and exploring the surrounding countryside. The only objects left in the room were the random and unaffected contents of the crystal: the box of sweets, the rest of the hats, and the rest of the records, the rubber ducks, the luck potion, and the bowling pins among other things.
Harry spent several minutes trying to select his robes for the day. His first thought was black, but that would be what Voldemort wore. He then thought of his deep red robes, thinking of Griffindor's colors, but then realized that the red was the same red of Voldemort's eyes. He then thought of green robes to match his own eyes, but he also didn't want to look too Slytherin. He eventually decided on modifying a pair of his black robes, adding sky blue to look both serious and upbeat. He snapped his fingers and his three-inch cuffs, collar and hems became blue.
Harry was nervous. He hadn't expected to be, but he was anxious to see the young versions of more people that he had known. He had woken up early out of nerves, and hadn't been able to get back to sleep. He could have calmed his nerves with his body aura, but he usually tried to be honest with what he was feeling, like normal people.
It was still only eight in the morning and Harry's interview with Dumbledore wasn't until ten-o-clock, but Harry was getting antsy. Knowing Fawkes would know where to find him, Harry apparated to Hogsmeade.
It was a Tuesday morning and the town showed signs of stirring. Various shops were opening, and a small trickle of early shoppers was making its way lazily through the streets. The day promised to be beautiful.
Most of the shops were the same. Wizards valued longevity, apparently, and resisted change. Harry walked passed Honeydukes, which was just opening, and got an idea. He went in, and, when he felt that no one was looking, he disappeared. Not thinking it necessary to pull out his invisibility cloak, he had cast a disillusionment charm on himself. He quietly paced behind the counter, and slipped down the stairs. He found the trapdoor to the secret passageway, and lowered himself down it. It was just like old times. Except older.
As he walked down the passageway, the memories of his time at school there came back to him. He stopped and took a moment to rifle around in his auror kit bag. At last he found what he was looking for: the Marauder's Map. He still had it with him. He always kept it with him as a reminder of the Marauders, all of whom were dead after the war. He thought it made a sad kind of sense that all four of them had died at the hand of Voldemort and his minions.
"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good," said Harry, tapping the map with his wand (he decided he needed to start using his wand again if he were to spend time in the close proximity of so many witches and wizards. He cast a bright ball of blue light that illuminated the dark passageway, and conjured a chair in which to sit and study the map for a few minutes. It was still only about 8:45.
As he studied the map, his eyes alighted on familiar names of teachers already preparing for the start of term in a week. Each time, he felt little happy tugs at his heart. He saw Horace Slughorn in his chambers, and McGonagall at breakfast sitting next to Dumbledore. Hagrid was at his usual place in the table. All of the same ghosts were floating around; Harry saw the Fat Frier, the daughter of Ravenclaw, the Bloody Baron, Nearly Headless Nick, and Myrtle. It took Harry a longer time to recognize these, as their full names were fully spelled out, rather than their nicknames. Harry noted that the Whomping Willow was not yet on the map, nor was the passage leading from it to Hogsmeade.
Then Harry noticed Tom Marvolo Riddle enter through the front gates and head directly for the forbidden forest. Harry wondered vaguely what he was up to and hurried to the end of the passage. As he approached Hogwarts, he could feel its immense power touch his magical aura. The castle was awake.
Still disillusioned, Harry climbed out of the back of the hunched-over witch and hurried along the quiet corridor. He made it down to the entryway without meeting anyone, but then, as he dashed through the entrance hall, the double doors to the great hall opened and Albus Dumbledore and Rubeus Hagrid strode through, conversing. Harry froze, eyeing Dumbledore and Hagrid. Hagrid looked about thirty years old. He didn't have a full beard yet, though he did have quite a mane of hair. His face and hands were smoother and paler.
Harry next looked at Dumbledore and couldn't look away. While unmistakable, Dumbledore was not the silver-haired 80 year old man Harry'd expected at all. He thought he'd seen memories of Dumbledore during the 1950s, but had clearly been more focused on other things at the time. His neat, wavy auburn hair fell just past his shoulders, and when he pushed it back with his hand, Harry saw a suggestion of freckles on smooth skin leading down his long neck. Harry's eyes went wider and wider as he looked from Dumbledore's proud (albeit slightly damaged) nose, to his close-cropped beard over a powerful jaw, down to a little tuft of chest hair sneaking up from the midnight blue tunic under his open robes, and back up to his dazzling blue eyes. If Harry hadn't known better, he would have thought Dumbledore wasn't a day over forty. No wonder he lived so long, thought Harry.
"But Professor, you know tha' the Gian' Squid's 'armless. It hasn't never touched one of them Merfolk. Why are they so stuck on killin' 'er?" asked Hagrid.
"I do, indeed, know that the squid prefers to keep to herself and does not pester the Merpeople. I fear they have begun to see the conquest of the squid as a challenge, similar to how wizards have named dragon slayers heroes at times," replied Dumbledore.
"Tha's jus terrible!" boomed Hagrid,
"I agree with you entirely," said Dumbledore, calmly. "I will see if we can come to an agreement regarding the squid. I am impressed that you discovered this before it was too late. How ever did you manage?"
Hagrid puffed out his chest proudly. "Jus' doin' my job, sir. Saw she 'ad little cuts on 'er tentacles. Din' think she'd be doin' it ter 'erself."
Dumbledore and Hagrid were half way across the entry hall and about to pass Harry, when Dumbledore turned and looked straight at Harry. He quirked an eyebrow, and kept walking. Harry's heart jolted. Despite Hagrid's long stride, Dumbledore reached the door first and held it open for Hagrid. Hagrid walked through, but Dumbledore kept holding the door open.
If Harry had been visible, his face would have been red.
"Sir?" asked Hagrid, clearly wondering why Dumbledore was standing holding the door open.
"It just gets so stuffy in there when there aren't students here to open the windows and doors, like they do," said Dumbledore, sentimentally.
Harry took the opportunity, which he wasn't convinced was a coincidence, to dart through the door and run quickly across the lawn to the forest, leaving Dumbledore and Hagrid behind. Dumbledore closed the door shortly after Harry had made it through, and he and Hagrid strode off in the direction of the lake.
Harry decided not to take any more chances. He took the invisibility cloak out of his bag and draped it around himself as he pushed deeper into the forest looking for Voldemort.
When Harry found him, Voldemort was in the clearing where the blue crystal had landed. That brought up some questions for Harry, but they were answered quickly. Voldemort was talking to himself.
"That crystal was here! It must have been here! Someone must have taken it!"
Harry wondered how Riddle could possibly think someone had walked off with the mountain of crystal.
"Oh, they'll regret it. They probably don't know that I used its power! That I am the most powerful wizard alive! That I can't be killed! Haha! Ha! Haha!"
Man, thought Harry, if Voldemort's followers had ever seen him while he's by himself, I don't think he'd ever have risen to power. Too bad Flootube hasn't been invented yet. Harry also thought about what Voldemort was saying. Harry had always rebutted Voldemort's "I'm the most powerful wizard" claim with "Dumbledore's the most powerful wizard." Now, if Harry was honest with himself, he thought he, Harry, might be the most powerful wizard in the world. But Harry had been given his powers, whereas Dumbledore came upon them naturally. Dumbledore would also always be smarter than Harry, and while Harry's magical talent may have exceeded Dumbledore's, he wasn't sure that counted for anything. He decided that it was stupid to compare himself with Dumbledore anyway, and he'd already proven that he could beat Voldemort when he was seventeen.
Listening to Voldemort, however, Harry realized that the crystal must have been what had given Voldemort the power to hide his soul in objects. If only he'd done it right, thought Harry, grateful that the crystal had given him his soul objects rather than horcruxes.
He was done listening to Voldemort's lunatic ramblings. It was 9:30 and Harry wanted to get back to the castle unnoticed and in time for his interview. He stole out of the clearing, marched to the end of the forest, and crossed the lawn. He could see Dumbledore squatting at the edge of the lake thirty yards away, and when Harry increased his hearing, he could hear a familiar screeching dialect. Despite the grating tone of Merish, it was rather endearing coming of of Dumbledore's mouth, and Harry felt a swell of admiration.
It was then that the air next to Harry burst into flames, and Fawkes appeared, swooping around him singing. Dumbledore and Hagrid both turned around to look.
"Oh bloody hell, Fawkes," muttered Harry, and darted around the castle to where he knew he could not be seen from the lake (even though he was wearing his invisibility cloak).
As Harry ran, though, he was sure he heard "Look, pr'fesser! I'll be! Is that a phoenix? It is!"
It was then that Harry noticed that Fawkes had not followed him behind the building. Apparently, Fawkes had heard Hagrid's excited voice and had flown over to him and Dumbledore. Harry poked his head around the stone corner of the castle, and saw that Fawkes had perched on Hagrid's arm. Hagrid looked taken aback at having a phoenix perched on his arm. He held the arm out awkwardly, trying to keep it as still as possible. Harry saw Dumbledore reach out and pet Fawkes on the beak. From within his Fawkes aura, he felt a flash of deep emotion, which was quickly masked.
"'fessor!" said Hagrid again, who clearly wanted to know how and why he had a rare magical bird perched on his arm.
"That, I believe, means that my 10:00 interview candidate is ready for me to see him." Harry noted that Dumbledore had said, "Ready for me to see him," rather than "Here."
Harry pulled his head back around the corner of the castle and dashed to the foot of the stairs in front the double front doors of the castle. He knew Dumbledore would be coming around the corner soon, and didn't need him to see the door open and close for an invisible person. He dissolved his disillusionment charm and hurriedly tucked his invisibility cloak into his bag.
He had his foot on the first stair when Dumbledore and a bewildered looking Hagrid rounded the corner.
"Ah, you must be Mr. Crockett," said Dumbledore warmly, striding over to Harry and shaking his hand firmly, "how very nice it is to meet you."
"Nice to meet you, too, Professor Dumbledore," replied Harry.
Fawkes took this moment to hop from Hagrid's arm to Harry's shoulder.
"Oomph," said Harry, as he landed.
Hagrid looked between Fawkes and Harry.
"'E's with you?" asked Hagrid, awestruck.
"Yeah," Harry replied simply. He was happy that he didn't have to correct Hagrid's wording.
"Mr. Crockett, this is Rubeus Hagrid, our gamekeeper, though I daresay he does much more than that. Hagrid, this is Harry Crockett, who will be interviewing for the position of Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. And I," he said, Harry and Hagrid both looking at him curiously, "am Albus Dumbledore."
Harry grinned, and Dumbledore winked at him. Harry was pleased to see that Dumbledore's sense of humor had remained the same.
Fawkes, not wanting to be left out of the conversation, craned his long neck around until he was staring straight into Harry's face.
"Er," said Harry, "this is Fawkes."
"'lo there Fawkes!" said Hagrid.
Fawkes whistled in response.
"And on that very lovely note," said Dumbledore, "Mr. Crockett and I have a meeting. Do excuse us, Rubeus."
"No prob'm, Professor. 'N thanks fer 'elpin' with the squid."
"You are very welcome, Rubeus. Have a nice morning."
Dumbledore and Harry started walking up the stairs, but Harry felt a prod to his aura from Fawkes. They conferred for a moment, and then Harry turned around and spoke up.
"Mr. Hagrid? I think Fawkes is hungry. Would you mind helping him find some food while I meet with Professor Dumbledore?"
Hagrid stuttered, "O'—o' course! I'd be—well, yeh! Come 'or to me 'ouse, Fawkes. We'll see what we ca' do!"
Harry suppressed a wince, imagining Hagrid feeding Fawkes stoat sandwiches and rock cakes.
Fawkes took off and followed Hagrid to his hut.
"That was very kind," said Dumbledore's voice from beside him, "Hagrid will be ecstatic to hold the company of a phoenix.
"I could tell they were getting along well," said Harry, "but I'm sure Fawkes will be back. I just hope that when he comes, he doesn't set your office on fire. He hasn't quite mastered the art of tact yet. He's really young." Harry wasn't willing to let on quite how young Fawkes was. He was a little embarrassed that Fawkes had ended up running errands for him within twenty minutes of his birth.
"Oh, I do hope so," replied Dumbledore, "That is, I do hope he graces us with his presence. It would be an honor to have my office set fire upon by him, but I would settle for a visit," said Dumbledore.
They made their way up to the gargoyles outside of Dumbledore's office.
"Phoenix," Dumbledore told the gargoyle, and it leapt aside to reveal the moving staircase. "The password's new. I had an extraordinary encounter with a phoenix just yesterday," he said brightly. Harry offhandedly wondered what Fawkes had done to make such an impression. He came to the conclusion that Fawkes could have sat still as stone and still made an impression.
Once they were in Dumbledore's office with the door closed, Dumbledore offered Harry a seat across the desk from his own.
"And now, Mr. Crockett," said Dumbledore solemnly, but with his eyes twinkling, "I must ask you why you were walking around the castle and grounds invisible."
Harry shifted, embarrassed. He decided to tell a partial truth.
"Ah," he said, "So you did know I was there. Thanks for holding the door." Dumbledore smiled knowingly. "As it happened, I got here early and my dark detectors had, well, detected something dark moving into your forest. I followed it invisibly, so as not to worry anybody, and came upon a curious young man talking to himself. Some of the things he said were alarming."
Dumbledore frowned.
"Could you describe this man for me?" asked Dumbledore.
"Yeah, he was wearing black robes, pale. Oh, and his eyes were red," said Harry. Harry had not actually seen Voldemort's eyes in the woods, but he decided it was a detail that would leave no doubt in Dumbledore's mind which troubled youth was muttering to himself dangerously in the woods.
"I see," said Dumbledore. "Thank you for your vigilance, Mr. Crockett. I shall look into this matter." He frowned, lost in thought for a moment, and then looked back up at Harry.
"I was impressed by the strength of your disillusionment charm," said Dumbledore.
"I'm impressed that you could see through it," said Harry honestly.
"And I admit," said Dumbledore, "I didn't notice you returning to the castle until Fawkes appeared. And even then, I could not see you. I assume you switched methods of concealment?"
"I did," said Harry, not yet willing to give up all of his secrets.
Dumbledore pretended not to notice Harry's secrecy, and pressed on. "And what other qualifications, besides magical concealment, would you say you possess?" he asked.
"Try me," said Harry, grinning.
"Patronus," said Dumbledore simply.
Harry accidentally conjured the patronus a split second before his wand was high enough. Dumbledore didn't seem to notice. Harry was interested, but not surprised, to see that his patronus had changed from a stag to the shape of a phoenix.
Dumbledore nodded, satisfied. But he wasn't done.
"Name some dark creatures and the methods to achieve their defeat."
Harry discussed how to get rid of hinkypunks, boggarts, grindylows, and kappas.
"What about werewolves?" asked Dumbledore casually.
Harry smiled inwardly, knowing it was a trick question. "Someone should probably just invent a way to help a werewolf retain their own mind during transformation. I'd look into it, but I'm not that great at potions."
Dumbledore smiled.
"And," said Dumbledore, for the first time looking a little guilty, "I could interrogate you about your spellwork, but after seeing your magnificent patronus, I find myself oddly curious to see more for myself. Would you indulge me in a light duel?"