Response To Reviews:

Tracey Young: I'm glad you like it! And I'm also looking forward to writing the twins into the plot; I like their characters.

cruzcartoon: I also want Harry to make more friends as well. I always thought it was weird that he didn't make more friends in the beginning. I mean, until he started the D.A in his fifth year, he only interacted with Ron and Hermione and only chatted with Neville and the twins occasionally. I hope to get him to interact with some more people.

Millie072: I'm glad that Harry and Hunter are different in personality. Since they're so far apart in age, I thought that Hunter should be more mellow and wise, especially in regards to people. And at this point, Harry is already angry at people for not believing him and at his friends for not contacting him. Add on to the fact that Hunter just dropped this considerable truth bomb on him, and he's going to be feeling wary about everyone now, not knowing who to trust.

A/N: I would just like to say that I have started playing the new Harry Potter game, 'WizardsUnite,' and I am now hooked. RIP author's free time.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own any Harry Potter characters besides some OC ones that may or may not pop up. I also DO NOT own story plots that are canon. I do, however, own things that ARE NOT canon.

Ron let out a groan as he collapsed into the only chair in the room. His head fell back as he closed his eyes with a sigh, partly from irritation and partly from exhaustion.

His mother had decreed that they were to clean Grimmauld Place because she, and he quotes, 'Cannot live in a place so filthy it can revive the Black family name itself.'

He had been up since early that morning and had done nothing but clean, only taking a break to have something to eat, before getting right back to work.

Ginny seemed to be the only one who put up as much as a fight as he initially did when his mum announced her plans. Hermione, Ron noticed, only scrunched up her nose in irritation and disgust aimed at the house while the twins, surprisingly, didn't say anything, just nodded at her suggestion (orders). His dad didn't argue with her, partly because he agreed that the house needed to be cleaned and slightly because he could never really go against his mother on trivial things.

Sirius, not wanting to have anything to do with the house, had surprisingly jumped at the chance to make the place cleaner. He had said that he wanted the place to be excellent for when Harry finally got there.

Ron could not wait until Dumbledore says that Harry could come. Everything was always much more exciting with Harry around, all the adventures they got to go on and the mysteries they got to solve.

Back then, Ron didn't know that becoming Harry's friend would mean participating in every new thing that came around the corner. Sure it was dangerous, but that is what made it all the more fun in Ron's opinion.

Of course, things didn't always go right; like when they lost all those points or when Hermione got petrified or when Harry fell off his broom or when he faced You-Know-Who three times in the last four years, but everything worked out in the end! They helped people and got rid of the bad guys! Everyone loved them!

Well, everyone except the Slytherins and Snape, but who cares about the opinion of slimy snakes anyway?

Every year, something happened. In the Golden Trio's first year, there was a troll, a malfunctioning broom, a Philosopher's Stone, You-Know-Who, and a teacher who was working for him while also being possessed by him.

In their second year, there was a blocked entryway, petrified students, Harry's reveal of being a Parselmouth, giant spiders (*shudder*), a Basilisk, and the mystery of who was petrifying everyone. (Which turned out to be his sister who was being possessed which was, you know, bad).

In their third year, there were Dementors, an escaped (wrongly convicted) criminal who everyone thought was after Harry, a traitor that was disguised as his pet rat, and a mission that had involved time travel.

(Ron was still bummed he wasn't involved in that one.)

And finally, there was last year, which had the Triwizard Tournament. Someone entered Harry in the tournament (although Ron did think Harry entered himself - all the fame and money if you won? Why wouldn't Harry want to enter his own name?) and he had to go through three tasks, all of them super dangerous, but ultimately cool in Ron's opinion. (Seriously, who could say they faced a dragon at school?). And then at the end of everything, You-Know-Who was able to come back, Cedric Diggory died, and their DADA teacher turned out to be a Death Eater under Polyjuice Potion.

So, by his train of thought, there should be something happening this year, right? Ron was friends with Harry Potter, and trouble follows him everywhere. So there should be another adventure for them to go on, right?

"Ronald Weasley!"

Ron jumped at the shout and turned to see his mum standing in the doorway.

"When I sent you up here, it was with the expectation that you would clean, not laze about," she asserted strongly. "Everyone else is doing their part to help out around here, and you will do yours as well."

Ron felt his ears heat up, and his face flush in embarrassment. "Sorry mum."

She shook her head. "When I come back to check on you later, there had better be an obvious difference in the room than what I see now."

Ron could only nod as she exited the room. Looking around him at all the dust, dirt, and grime, he could only whimper softly to himself.

'Harry, mate, please get here as soon as you can. I can't take much more of this!'

Cornelius Fudge sat back in his chair with a sigh as his eyes stared unseeingly around his office. He was tired, annoyed, exasperated, and everything in between.

The cause of it all?

Albus sodding Dumbledore and Harry bloody Potter.

Fudge never liked them, regardless of their achievements. Dumbledore held a lot of weight with a lot of people and Potter, despite his accomplishment in taking down He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, was nothing more than Dumbledore's lapdog.

Fudge was always suspicious of Dumbledore's intentions. He had enough influence to be Minister if he wanted to but had always claimed he preferred to be Headmaster of Hogwarts instead.

Fudge didn't believe it. Not for a second.

Especially ever since Potter started his schooling. It seemed like there was always something going on.

Students being petrified one year and an escaped convict the next.

But this last year? This last year was the last straw.

Fudge had let a lot of things slide, he can admit to himself. Dumbledore had given him advice over the years, and Potter's magical ability must be excellent if he had managed to defeat a dark wizard almost as notorious as Grindelwald was; he could respect that, even if he didn't like it.

But this past year was something he couldn't ignore. Discarding the fact that Potter illegally cheated his way into the Triwizard Tournament, which Fudge still thought Dumbledore assisted with, he started making outlandish accusations.

Fudge can understand Potter getting shocked by his fame and then wanting more of it. (His years at Hogwarts were of him always wanting to be the center of attention. Lucius told Fudge himself with letters from his own son as proof.)

But to declare in front of the students of three primary wizarding schools, their Headmasters, visiting families, and Ministry officials, that You-Know-Who was back and that he was responsible for killing young Cedric Diggory?

And for Dumbledore to go along with it? By making it look like some...some madman was the one to orchestrate everything?

What a load of hogwash.

He was done with holding back. He gave the Daily Prophet the reins and let them write exactly what was needed to get the populace to see what kind of people Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter really were; a senile old fool and an attention-seeking brat.

And it was working. Dumbledore had lost all of his titles and, most importantly, his position as Head of the Wizagamot. He was barely hanging onto the seat of Headmaster of Hogwarts as it was.

Fudge didn't know what the Prophet had done for all of the people who had idolized Potter, but he was sure it was nothing good.

It was unfortunate that the Prophet had stopped writing about him, though. The editor had come to see Fudge yesterday to inform him that someone had come forward to warn about suing them for slander and defamation. And since most of its shares belong to the Ministry, they could be involved as well.

Usually, Fudge wouldn't give a rat's arse about someone claiming that (it's been done before and they've always won out in the end) but the editor had adamantly refused to print more damaging articles about Potter. He had even gone so far as to say he'd quit if Fudge kept insisting he publishes them.

The whole conversation had left him wondering what kind of person had come forward to talk to (threaten) his hardened, war-veteran editor of the most influential newspaper in the magical world. But another part of him didn't want to know who that person was, so when he agreed to his editor's demands, he didn't ask for the person's name.

He already had enough things on his plate, he didn't feel like dealing with something he declared meager in the grand scheme of things. They still had Dumbledore to write about, they'll be fine.

(Fudge's head may have been buried firmly in the sand, but that's okay; he liked it there.)

A knock on the door disturbed him from his thoughts, and he straightened from the slump he had unconsciously sunk into. "Come in," he spoke, his voice as confident as he could make it.

The door opened and in walked in Dolores Umbridge, his undersecretary, and one of the people he trusted the most within the Ministry. "Ah, Dolores," Fudge greeted warmly, genuinely glad to see her. "Is everything alright? Do you need anything?"

She smiled. "No no, I don't need anything from you, Minister," she replied sweetly. "I've just come to ask you a question."

"Oh? Well then, fire away, my dear."

"I have noticed that the Daily Prophet has stopped mentioning young Mister Potter in its articles," she responded. "Are we no longer telling the truth about him?"

Fudge couldn't help but sigh. "Trust me, my dear, I would love to tell the truth about who that little brat really is. Unfortunately, someone had come forward and threatened the editor with legal action unless he stopped printing those stories."

"Really?" Dolores' eyes narrowed, and her lips pursed thoughtfully. "Who was it?"

"I actually have no idea," Fudge admitted. "I didn't get their name from them; however, whoever they are, has really shaken up the editor."

"I see," Dolores said, a weird glint in her eyes. "Well, thank you for seeing me, Minister. I shall take my leave."

Fudge nodded at her. "Let us hope the next time we talk it will be about more positive topics."

Dolores merely smiled and left his office, closing the door sharply behind her.

After she left his office, Fudge slumped down in his seat again, his weariness starting to catch up once again.

"Dumbledore and Potter," he muttered to himself. "Why are those two always trying to make my job harder than it needs to be?"

~Meanwhile~

Dolores had an unpleasant frown upon her face as she walked back towards her office.

'This won't do,' she thought to herself. 'No, this won't do at all. I'll have to move up my plans.'

The evening sun was shining high up in the sky, pitching everything below it in a golden luminosity. The trees surrounding Peverell Cottage looked to be coated in liquid gold, and the grass seemed to be actually golden straws when the wind blew a certain way.

From the way the sunlight hit it, Peverell Cottage itself looked to be more from an old painting or a historical museum than a place where two people actually live in.

And speaking of those two people, one of them, Harry, was outside in the backyard, sprawled across the ground a little ways away from Hunter's greenhouse with a blanket beneath him and an open book placed in front of his folded arms.

The book, titled 'Beings, Beasts, and Spirits; The Difference Between Them' was old and tattered. The binding was worn from the many times it was opened, and some of its pages had creases at the top corners, most likely from when they were dog-eared to save the page.

Hunter had given him the book earlier that day, saying that he thought Harry could have something to read other than school books.

Some people thought that Harry didn't like to read and would prefer to do the practical things as opposed to the book work. And while they may be true in some cases, he actually enjoys reading about things that intrigue him. It was one of the main reasons that he had read 'Quidditch Through The Ages' more than once.

Harry has just turned another page in the book, which was starting to really interest him when he saw a shadow flit across the book in front of him. Before he could react, a brown, regal-looking owl landed beside him, a thick envelope tied to one of its legs.

He saw the red seal of Gringotts and begun to worry. 'What do they want me for?' he thought nervously. 'I've only been there to get money from my vault. It's not like I've done anything to them. Did I make the goblins mad somehow?'

A loud screech from the owl shook him from his thoughts, and he looked back to see it shaking its leg out impatiently.

"Sorry," Harry told it sheepishly before reaching out and untied the envelope from its leg. The owl hooted once more in a way that reminded him of Hedwig before taking off back into the sky. Harry watched it go for a moment before looking down at the package in his hands.

Not knowing what to do with the mail he just received, he let out a forlorn sigh as he got up from the ground. He gathered both the blanket and the book before he headed inside.

Entering the back door that led to the kitchen, Harry caught sight of Hunter once again at the stove, cooking them an early supper. Harry, sort of feeling like a burden, had earlier offered to make the food since he's made breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the Dursleys before.

When he had said that, a dark look had passed quickly over Hunter's face, gone in the next second. Hunter then smiled a smile at him that was filled with fondness before saying that he got it handled. "We'll start your training tomorrow," he had said. "Why don't you use this day to relax? Merlin knows you've hardly had a chance to that."

"Harry? Everything okay?"

Hunter's voice snapped Harry out of his thoughts of earlier as he blinked. He was still standing at the stove but was staring at Harry in concern.

"Uh, yeah," he answered. "Um, actually, I need to show you something."

"Oh?"

Hunter had turned back to the food but still focused enough on Harry that he didn't feel like the older man was just talking to fill the silence.

"Yeah," Harry said as he moved towards the table, setting the blanket out of the way as he went but kept the book with him, along with the envelope. "I, ah, I got an owl."

"An owl?" Hunter repeated as he turned to face Harry, his brow furrowed. "From whom?"

"Well," Harry said as he turned his attention to the topic of conversation in his hands, "the envelope has the seal of Gringotts."

"Gringotts?"

Harry looked up at the change in Hunter's voice to see him staring at him worriedly. A chill went down his spine. "You mean," his voice wavered, "you mean this didn't happen to you?"

"No," Hunter said grimly as he made his way over to him, a wave of his wand making the kitchen utensils continue where he left off. "Let me see it."

Harry handed it over to him and watched as he ran his wand over it, words murmured too quietly for Harry to hear. After a moment, Hunter lowered his wand. "There doesn't seem to be any harmful spells cast upon it," he said. "It's safe for you to open."

Feeling slightly warier than before, Harry tore open the envelope and pulled out its contents. There were two letters and a sheet of parchment that he laid upon the table. Not knowing which to pick first, he glanced up at Hunter. "Which should I read first?"

Hunter frowned down at the contents from the envelope. "I recommend reading one of the letters first," he said thoughtfully. "It'll probably explain what's going on."

"I guess," Harry said, still slightly uneasy. He chose one of the letters at random and unfolded it. He then began to read aloud:

Dear Mister Potter,

This letter was written to inform you a vault has been set up to receive payments from purchases in a business where you are the benefactor and part-owner. A bank statement has been enclosed with details containing amount and product.

If you wish to receive payment differently or would like to discuss details, contact your account manager.

Regards,

Ragnorok, Head of Financial Affairs.

Harry had only gotten more confused as the letter went on. When he reached the end of it, he looked up to ask Hunter's opinion but stopped at the expression on his face.

Hunter was smiling fondly down at the letter in Harry's hand, with a touch of wistfulness in his expression. There was also a gleam in his eyes that Harry recognized from somewhere but couldn't place where he saw it.

"Hunter?"

Said man looked up at Harry's unasked question, and his smile broadened into a grin. "It's alright," he said, his tone of voice easygoing. "I'm pretty sure I know who sent you all of this."

"How sure?"

"Ninety-nine point nine percent sure."

"That's pretty sure," Harry deadpanned, to Hunter's amusement.

"Well," he said as he looked down at the other contents from the envelope, "I suppose we now know what the sheet of parchment is now."

"The 'bank statement'?" Harry said redundantly.

"Yes," Hunter nodded. "Go ahead and read the other letter. I think you'll be surprised."

"Okay," Harry said. He was still a little nervous about everything, but since Hunter said it was fine, he was trying to calm down. Harry might not have known Hunter long, but the teen trusted him more than anyone. After all, he had done something no one else bothered to do; get him away from his relatives and tell him the truth, all without expecting anything in return.

He picked up the other letter and began to read aloud once more:

Dear Mini Marauder,

Harry paused in his reading before he blinked in surprise as the nicknamed registered. He looked up at Hunter's smiling face in shock. "Mini Marauder?" he repeated.

Hunter simply nodded, the smile lingering on his lips.

"But," Harry continued, "that's what Fred and George call me."

"It is, isn't it?" Hunter remarked amusedly as he moved back towards the stove. "Continue reading, Harry."

Harry, feeling a bit more enthusiastic, turned his attention back to the letter in his hands.

If you're reading this letter, then that means we succeeded in contacting you. Dumbledore showed up at the Burrow a couple of days after we got back from Hogwarts to move everyone to a safe house. There's a spell in effect so we can't tell you where we are, but we can say to you that Padfoot is here, along with Hermione.

Before Dumbledore had left, he gave all of us a 'warning' to not contact you. He said that he doesn't want any Death Eaters to track you to your relatives' place and alert You-Know-Who to your position.

We didn't like that. Leaving you alone after everything that had happened...well, let's just say we didn't agree with it.

But we couldn't just find an owl and secretly send you a letter; mum and dad are watching to make sure we all 'behave.'

Getting a letter to you this way was the only thing we could think of that mum, dad, or Dumbledore wouldn't think of. We would've asked Hermione for advice but, unfortunately, she and Ron also agree with Dumbledore.

But we've prattled on long enough.

We wanted you to know that we haven't just ignored you. The others really didn't either but, well, you know how those two are.

Hang in there, Harry. We'll see you as soon as the new term starts on the train. Try to stay out of trouble until then, okay?

(Deny that part of you Marauder's blood for a little while).

Send us an owl if you can. And if you can't, no worries; as we said, we'll see you on the train.

Be safe little brother,

Fred and George

Harry's sight went blurry as he read the last part of the letter. "Those two," he choked out, the emotion he felt choking the words as they escaped his mouth.

Hunter himself had misty eyes but hid the fact by keeping his attention on the cooking food in front of him. "I'm guessing the letter made you feel better?" he inquired, the tone of his voice not giving away his emotions.

Harry let out a watery chuckle. "You could say that," he admitted. He then frowned. "Wait, they said that Dumbledore moved them and Hermione to a safe house where Sirius is."

Hunter glanced at him from the corner of his eyes. "That is correct."

"Then why the bloody hell didn't I get to go?!" Harry fumed, his anger starting to bleed through. "Especially if Sirius is there!"

The other man sighed. He turned off the stove, apparently done with the dinner he was making - which Harry realized were pork chops and other vegetables - before the man started loading the food onto plates he had summoned wandlessly and wordlessly. "There's actually more than one reason for that," Hunter said as he handed him a plate full of food. He snatched up his own food-ladened plate before directing them to the table.

"And what are they?" Harry asked as he sat down.

"Well," Hunter began, "Dumbledore never deceived you when he said living with your relatives was safe for you. The night Voldemort killed your parents, and you attained the protection your mother gave you, Dumbledore set up blood wards around the property of the Dursleys. The blood wards were supposed to protect you against Voldemort or any of his followers if they ever found out your location."

"Oh," Harry replied. "But, you said he doesn't actually care about me. Why would he go through all that trouble just to keep me safe?"

"In his mind - his sick, twisted mind - he's not protecting you; he's protecting his weapon," Hunter said grimly.

Harry's mouth twisted into a frown as he looked down at his food.

The older man took a bite of food and chewed thoughtfully before swallowing. "Also," he continued, "he wants you isolated. He doesn't want you to know about anything that's going on. That way, you can rely on him to tell you events that are taking place."

Harry's frown turned into a scowl as he shoved food into his mouth. The more he heard about Dumbledore's manipulations, the more he inwardly kicked himself for not noticing sooner. Growing up in the Dursley household made him crave positive attention from anywhere he could get it. Dumbledore was one of the main people who seemed to 'genuinely' care about him so he didn't check for ulterior motives like he usually would have.

Harry then remembered something Hunter had said when they first met. "Hunter," he said, looking up and getting the man's attention. "You told me that Dumbledore never acted in my best interests."

"That's right."

"Can...can you tell me some of the things he's done?" Harry asked him, his voice slightly pleading.

Hunter's face took on a thoughtful look as he thought about his question. There were some things he couldn't tell him yet, not without teaching him Occlumency first. Things like details of the Prophecy and the circumstances surrounding Sirius were out of the question at the moment, but…

"Well," he said slowly, aware of Harry's hopeful gaze. "I guess I can tell you about your first year."

"My first year?" Harry asked, curiously. Knowing he was about to get more answers filled him with excitement.

"Mmhm," Hunter nodding with a mouthful of food. "Let's start from the beginning; getting your letter."

"Getting my letter?" Harry repeated confusingly. "Don't you mean when I boarded the train or the Sorting Ceremony?"

Hunter shook his head in negative. "No, this had started even before you officially knew about being a wizard."

"So, me getting my letter was the beginning."

"Yes," the older man nodded. "After you got your letter and Vernon and Petunia both denied knowing about it, you got another one. Did you ever wonder why you got another one? And kept getting more and more no matter how many times your relatives threw them away or destroyed them?"

"Well," Harry said after a moment. "At the time, I guess I was too busy wondering what was written on them and who was sending them to think about anything else."

Hunter nodded. "Understandable. Now, if Dumbledore knew you weren't getting your letter, why wouldn't he have sent someone earlier? Why let you travel from hotel to hotel while continuously receiving the letters?"

Harry's first response was to say 'I don't know,' but he got the feeling that Hunter wanted him to think. To come up with the answer himself. "Um," he said slowly as he quickly thought. "Uh...maybe he wanted to...to keep me...uh, interested?"

Hunter gave him a genuine smile that caused the young green-eyed man to blush furiously. "You are correct. Now think about this; when he finally sent someone to talk to you, why would he send Hagrid? Why not a teacher?"

"There's nothing wrong with Hagrid!" Harry immediately protested.

"I am not saying there is. But Hagrid is completely loyal to Dumbledore and is always praising him; you can dispute that."

Harry frowned and looked down at his food.

"You know I'm right," Hunter said gently. "He is always speaking highly of Dumbledore and calling him 'a good man.' Hagrid is an honest person, but he's also blinded by his loyalty to the old coot."

The conflict began warring inside Harry. He wanted so desperately to defend one of the first friends he made in the wizarding world, but the more rational part of his brain, the one he tended to ignore a lot, was replaying memories of his interactions with the half-giant. The many times Hagrid spoke of Dumbledore in an almost reverence passion and the way he always gave praise to Gryffindor, the house Dumbledore came from, while also belittling the other three.

Harry physically wilted as he realized Hunter was right. "So, he sent Hagrid," he said dully, his mind a chaotic mess as he processed the new information. "What else?"

Hunter sent him a concerned glance, obviously worried about the teen, but continued speaking. "Hagrid picked up a 'top-secret' package from Gringotts while he was helping you get your school things," he replied, making air-quotes with his fingers as he said top-secret. "Did you think it was a coincidence that he picked up the mysterious package the same day he was showing you around?"

Harry felt his eyes widen. "Wait, you're saying…"

"Dumbledore made sure you saw what Hagrid was doing so that you can be drawn in by the mystery," Hunter finished grimly.

Food forgotten, Harry leaned towards the other man. "Are you saying that Dumbledore intended on me going after the stone the whole time?" he demanded.

Hunter quirked a wry grin. "Well done, Harry," he praised. "I didn't expect you to figure it out right away."

The messy-haired teen sat back in his seat, his eyes going on distance as he tried to arrange his thoughts.

The whole time Harry, Ron, and Hermione were going around trying to figure out the details of what was going on, Dumbledore knew. While they spent a significant amount of time in the library researching, going over old books for clues, while they risked their lives to protect the bloody stone, Dumbledore knew.

The anger that Harry has been keeping down began to bubble up again.

"What about the obstacles?" Harry asked as he tried to fight down the urge to curse something. "You know, the ones that guarded the stone?"

Hunter nodded. "Ah, the obstacles," he said pensively. "Thinking back on it now, do you notice anything...off about them?"

"Well, at the time I knew they were weird," Harry admitted. "I guess I was too focused on getting to the stone and Voldemort to really think about it."

"And now?" Hunter prompted.

Harry thought for a moment as he recalled the memories of almost five years ago. "Now that you mention it," he said thoughtfully after a moment. "They seemed rather easy. I mean, for first years who aren't really experienced in magic it might have been difficult. But if they were actual 'defenses' then... shouldn't they have been a lot harder than a giant chessboard, chasing after a key on a broom, a logic puzzle…"

Harry trailed off as something occurred to him. "A chessboard?" he murmured to himself. "Ron was able to beat that one because he's really good at chess. And Hermione was able to figure out the potion puzzle because she's brilliant. And catching the key on a broom? It was no different than trying to catch a snitch!"

Harry looked up and met the gaze of his blank-faced guardian. "Hunter?" he asked, his voice coming out shakily. "Were...were those tests all designed specifically for us?"

Hunter calmly observed the shaken teen in front of them before letting out a sigh and gave him a bitter smile.

"Another point to you, Harry," the older man said. "Yes, you're right; those challenges were designed to test the three of you. Dumbledore waited to see who you became friends with before instructing the teachers to create specific obstacles.

The giant chessboard was for Ron due to his great skill in the game; catching the right key in the air like searching for a snitch was for you; the potions puzzle that could've only be solved using logic was for Hermione."

Harry stared at Hunter without really seeing him. As he explained the events, the pieces were starting to come together in a way Harry couldn't see before when, in his opinion, it couldn't have been more obvious.

'How did I not notice any of this?' Harry thought to himself, miserably. "Why did he want me to go after the stone?" he asked aloud.

"So you could confront Voldemort," Hunter said immediately.

"What?!" Harry cried out in shock. "What the hell, mate?! Was he trying to get me killed?!"

'Not yet,' Hunter thought bitterly. "Actually, there were two reasons he wanted you to confront dear old Mouldy Voldy."

Harry couldn't help but give a small chuckle, even if it was a weak one, at the nickname.

"Reason one; he thought your mother's protection could have defeated Voldemort permanently," the older man explained.

"What?" Harry was confused.

"Remember what happened when Quirrell tried to touch you? He couldn't without burning his skin, remember? Dumbledore had thought that since Voldemort was possessing his body that he'd die along with Quirrell. But, he was wrong, and Voldemort's soul simply left the body after you defeated him."

Harry was stunned. It wasn't the first time and, unfortunately, he had a feeling it wouldn't be the last. "Uh...u-um, what was the second reason?" he asked, his mind still scrambling.

"In Dumbledore's mind, on the off chance that you didn't manage to kill Voldemort, the whole experience was to prepare for your inevitable clash with Voldemort down the line," Hunter said in disgust.

Harry glanced down at the food that he wasn't in the mood to eat anymore, his head swimming with all the new information he received over the past half hour. "So," he said quietly, "what you're saying is...Dumbledore was training his 'weapon'?" he bit the last word out hatefully.

Hunter's eyes were sad as he heard the anger in his ward's tone and the word he used to describe himself as what Dumbledore thought of him. "Yes," he said softly. "And he made sure that everyone knew he 'approved' of what you did by waiting until the End-of-Term Feast to give you and Ron, Hermione, and Neville House Points."

Harry remained quiet. The manipulations revealed to him left him speechless, and if he was a little honest, a little scared. 'If Hunter hadn't come and got me, will I have noticed any of this? What would have happened to me if I continued to live my life the way it was going?' he thought shakily.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. He blinked and looked up into green eyes that mirrored his own. "I'm sorry that I've overwhelmed you," Hunter said regretfully. "All this information being forced into your head and it's not half of what you need to know, but I think it's better that you have all the facts. Ignorance is not bliss, especially in your case. I want you to be able to live your life your way; not the way Dumbledore or the rest of the Wizarding World wants you to."

Harry blinked again, this time to stop a rush of tears that wanted to appear. He quickly stood up and, after a moment of hesitation, wrapped the older man in a hug. "Thank you, Hunter," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Hunter's arms came up and returned the hug. "No problem, kid," he answered.

He let out a sigh before stepping back. "Why don't you try and get some sleep," he suggested as his gaze flitted to the darkening sky outside the window. "You're going to need your rest. I'm going to be teaching you Occlumency tomorrow as a part of your training."

Harry grinned in anticipation. "Okay," he said as he began to walk away. "Goodnight Hunter."

"'Night, Harry," Hunter called after the teen. He looked down at the leftover food on the table and sighed to himself. 'That could've gone better,' he thought to himself. 'Then again, it could've gone a lot worse too. I expected spells to be flung around the room in all honestly.'

Hunter looked out the window at the dark sky and noticed the rising moon. "Change is coming," Hunter murmured quietly to the room. He grinned. "I honestly can't wait."

Well, that was fun to write!

The next chapter will be more fun, and when everything officially starts! I will definitely have fun writing those scenes.

Also, for those of you questioning how Harry could've gotten a package when Hunter didn't, keep the Butterfly Effect in mind.

R&R!