Chapter 16: Hounding

Two yellow figures led a massive crowd through the doors of Hogwarts and into the Great Hall. Two entirely yellow men dined at the head table smiling silently as the great hall roared enthusiastically around them. Two yellow men went off to the base of a tower and ascended through a trapdoor.

"I owe you an explanation," said Harry, finally Vanishing the yellow paint. It stung like ripping off a Band-Aid. Fawkes whistled at him from his perch. "About what I did to you in the duel."

Albus said nothing, his paint melting away smoothly. He looked at Harry, and smiled expectantly, patiently.

After the duel, Harry found himself wishing to tell Albus all about his magic. He wanted to see his blue eyes alight with excited curiosity as they had with fierce competition. He wanted to share his magical secrets, at least, if not when he was from. Now that he trusted that Albus wasn't going to try to invade his mind in search of answers, he felt like he might guard his secrets less heavily and allow some of the burden to slide off his shoulders. But most importantly, it was not okay that he'd let aura's erotic effect impact anyone else.

He nodded and took a deep breath. "I had a …an accident about a year ago and I've been like this since," said Harry. "You were right. My soul is split into these multiple auras and they do different things. What you felt today I…" He looked at Albus and blushed furiously at his intense gaze. Harry wished he was still covered in paint so that Albus would not see the blood rushing to his face. "I didn't mean to…You weren't supposed to…" Albus raised his eyebrows and Harry became more flustered. "Albus, fuck, I'm sorry for doing that to you. I lost control, and I'll work hard to make sure I don't lose control again."

"I forgive you," he said simply.

They were quiet for a moment. Harry wasn't sure what else to say, but Albus spoke again.

"You speak so strangely sometimes, Harry. It's as if you have a foreign accent, but it's more subtle than that."

"I promise it's got nothing to do with my auras," said Harry, trying to change the subject away from his 21st century language. "Anyway, what you felt…that was the aura of my instincts."

Albus's face betrayed no expression but his eyes twinkled with amusement. "Your instincts are as potent as your magic."

Harry winced.

"That's what the accident did. All of my characteristics sort of morphed out and grew. And they're separate," said Harry. They fell silent. Albus paced pensively over to Harry's stash of lemon drops and picked one out. The silence compelled Harry to continue. "There are a total of seven parts. One is in my—my body," he said distractedly. Albus was walking around Harry's room examining objects. He stopped in front of the bowling ball and pins. He picked up one of the bowling pins and held it out to Harry.

"What is this?"

Harry was caught completely off guard.

"Th—that's a…that's a bowling pin, sir— Albus."

Albus looked at him with blank curiosity.

"It's for…" Harry paused and shut his eyes tightly, trying to switch from talking about his soul to talking about bowling. "It's for a sport. A Muggle sport." Albus shifted the pin in his hands until he held it like a beater's bat, smiling with his eyebrows raised. Harry smiled weakly and shook his head. Harry took the pin from Albus and set it up on one side of the room with the other nine. He conjured bumpers to make a short isle and slicked the floor. He picked up the bowling ball (paying careful attention to his occlumency), and rolled it down the floor. He'd only ever bowled once during a ministry party, so he wasn't very good and only managed to knock over a few pins. "You're supposed to knock them all down," said Harry. Unprovoked, the pins all fell over where they stood. Harry looked at Albus. "With the bowling ball, Albus. And on your turn."

"Goodness, that does make more sense," said Albus, eyes twinkling. Harry suspected he'd understood before knocking over the pins.

"You can have a go if you want, then," said Harry retrieving the bowling ball and resetting the pins. He showed Albus the three holes for his fingers and then handed him the heavy ball.

"You aren't going to make me do it wrong, are you?" he asked, piercing Harry with an unfamiliar gaze.

Harry looked at him blankly.

"Stand back there. I don't want you to trip me. I bet you taught me this wrong," he said with uncharacteristic aggression.

"I'm not going to…I didn't…Oh," said Harry as Albus rolled the ball towards the pins. Apparently, Harry's occlumency hadn't been strong enough and his paranoia had affected Albus.

"Your bowling ball rather upset me," said Albus.

Harry frowned. "Yeah, it does that. Looks like I'm still not in control. It's probably best you don't touch it."

Albus seemed to take stock of himself. "I would say... paranoia and fear?"

"Yeah."

"And however did it get inside a…bowling ball?"

"I guess the same way all of my auras found their way inside different objects."

"Why didn't you tell me that? What other secrets are you hiding from me?" asked Albus, his eyes narrowing and his hand twitching towards his wand. "Harry, can you make this stop, please?"

"Here, try on this hat." Harry tossed him the elaborate lady's hat that contained part of his soul. Albus caught it suspiciously, but smiled as he worked the felt between his fingers.

"Content. Happiness. Joy."

"Wow," said Harry. "You figured that out faster than I did and it's my soul."

"It's so strong," said Albus, beaming. He swept the hat onto his head and conjured a mirror on Harry's wall. "And may I say, what a remarkable hat." Harry rolled his eyes. He could feel his aura mingling with that of Albus's, and his own happiness intensified as they mixed.

Albus continued bobbing around the room. He picked up a chess piece and replaced it. "That chess set likes to play itself," said Harry. on

Albus watched the set for a moment, and the white pawn on the far left moved forward.

"Hmm," said Albus. "That was always Armando's first move. The man loved chess."

He took another lemon drop and put it in his mouth. He stopped at the record player and turned it on.

"Young teacher, the subject of schoolgirl fantasy. She wants him so badly, knows what she wants to be. Inside her there's longing. This girl's an open page. Bookmarking—she's so close now. This girl is half his age. Don't stand so, don't stand so, don't stand so close to me."

Harry had been standing immersed in his own and Albus's Joy, but at the Chorus of the song he came back to reality. He lunged and shut off the record player, nearly knocking over Albus - that song hadn't been written yet. Albus looked at him questioningly.

"I really don't like that song. I'll have it stuck in my head for days," Harry lied, rifling through his album collection looking for anything labeled and anything pre-sixties. "I much prefer…Elvis!" He quickly pulled out a beat up Elvis record and put it on the turntable instead of the Police (who didn't even exist as a band in 1957).

The room crackled with the static of the record, and then Elvis Presley's voice began to grind out the lyrics to "Hound Dog."

"I like American music. I believe Elvis will be remembered for a long time," said Harry over enthusiastically. Albus didn't say anything, but peered down at the record over his long nose. Harry stood watching him until "Hound Dog" had finished playing and all that was left was the scratching of the record player and record. Albus removed the arm and stopped the disk.

Without looking up, Albus asked "What is your surname?"

Harry's heart began to pound. "Crockett."

Harry felt suspicion that was not his own flow through his aura. He snatched the hat off of Albus's head and banished it to the top of a wardrobe.

"I showed you my magic. Wasn't that enough? Please, just leave it alone, Dumbledore."

And then Albus Dumbledore found himself alone in his study with a half of a lemon drop in his mouth.

A/N: Credit to the Police for the lyrics of "Don't Stand so Close to Me," btw. Hah…such a great song. So many appropriate Police songs for this fic…