When Harry came back to reality, he was on the floor and holding on his forehead for life.
"He's a Seer!" a voice screamed. "He has just opened his third eye!"
Couldn't they shut up? Harry thought as he hissed at the hot soaring pain in his scar.
"I don't know if I should call you the best or the worst subject for hypnosis," Professor Mesmer remarked as he put the pendulum back in his pocket. "Best because of how easily you fell in trance. Worst for how I couldn't manage to communicate with you. Is your third eye oriented inwards? More than that, did you use occlumency to snap yourself out of the trance I put you under?"
Harry tried to ignore the pain and glared at him. "What the hell was that?" he spat, heart still beating fast.
"Language. And, if were paying attention, you would know I've used hypnosis on you. When a wizard goes in trance, a door opens in his mind, allowing him to enter an altered state where he is not bound by his body's limitations and can go where he normally cannot. It's a version of legimency if you want hence my question. Did you use occlumency to leave that state?"
Harry gritted his teeth and shakily got up. "Yes." He bit his tongue before he could ask him why on earth he hadn't bothered warning him.
The wizard nodded. "The goal in my class is to open your third eye, not to close it. And I've warned you."
"You didn't!" he exclaimed.
But the wizard ignored him. "You seem to have the gift, but are afraid to use it," he remarked. "I understand it can be scary to let mystical forces communicate with you, but it is a gift like any other. Some can get a see the future, some can speak to snakes And one shouldn't run away from who he inherently is."
Harry should have stayed in bed.
"And Mister Potter? Detention with me for your attitude."
Albus sat next to him for lunch. "So…" he lightly began. "Apparently, you are a seer."
Harry groaned over his plate. "We've just left class. How can you, possibly, have heard of what happened?"
"I have my ways," he mysteriously answered. "How many of our classmates have tried to force you to reveal what the future is going to be like?"
All of them. He hid his face behind his hands. Everyone in class has started harassing him whenever Professor Mesmer wasn't looking to know if they were going to have their OWLs, if Professor O'Connor was going to make a surprise test tomorrow. If Augustine and he were going to last and when would that muggle Queen finally kick the bucket.
He answered the last one just to make them shut up.
He shouldn't have.
"I suppose I should not disappoint in this case," Albus lightly remarked. "What can you tell me about my future?"
Harry stilled and slowly turned his head. Dumbledore's blue eyes seemed to be laughing at him.
That should be it. The moment he had been waiting for since he's time-traveled. He could tell Dumbledore right then he was a time-traveler in desperate need of a mean to go home. Home being in this instance 1996.
But, as he opened his mouth to tell him, he hesitated.
That was without a doubt the best moment, but it also was the worst place. Anybody in the Great Hall could be listening and-
Albus smirked.
That expression on his face was so unexpected that Harry's brain froze.
"You don't believe in Divination," he numbly realized.
"I don't," he confirmed. "I believe in many things and try to keep an open mind, but divination and fate?" He shook his head. "I like to believe in free will and brave men to shape the future."
"That's very close-minded for you, Albus," Elphias Doge who had sat next to Albus remarked. "You cannot say there isn't something! What about seers and prophecies?"
He sighed. "Alas, Elphias, how can we possibly know that they are not acting? That prophecies are not some nonsense fairly impressionable minds decide to understand the way they see fit? Until I see a seer making one right in front of me, I'm afraid I will not be moved."
"B-But..." Harry tried to keep the conversation going. "What if somebody does know what is going to happen?" Albus indulgently smiled and Harry tried not to let his temper get the better of him. "Somehow, he knows."
"And how does he?"
"He just does."
Albus condescendingly shook his head. "Let's suppose that this person somehow knows everything that is going to happen then. He had a vision and as a result knows everything that is going to pass for the next… let's say the next decade. This man tells us everything he knows. Will that knowledge not influence this future he swears to have foreseen? Because if he manages to change the future, then this means this future he has seen in his sleep wasn't a certainty, it was just a dream."
Harry stared.
"And even if he didn't change anything because he couldn't," he continued, "then what was the point? Taking a glimpse at the future this way, wouldn't be like peeking on your favourite book's last page? If you do this, then you better put it back on the shelves because you've just spoiled it."
The last words hit Harry like a whip.
He hadn't known what he had expected, really. Maybe he had hoped that Albus Dumbledore would be like Hermione, telling him he wasn't allowed to chase after Scabber even if it could save Sirius. That the only man Voldemort has ever feared would learn of the future and tell him not to worry. That he'd send him back with a flick of his wand and that, now that he knew the stakes, he would be able to save everybody, somehow, despite everything. Or maybe he wouldn't pry because he wasn't going to be foolish like Harry and try to change the past.
But that wasn't the past, was it? Harry horrifyingly realized as he swallowed. To them, this was the present and he was just a future.
"He says that," Elphias remarked, "but he still does this every time he goes in a bookshop."
"It's a bad habit of mine," the prefect acknowledged, "and I always deeply regret doing so. Nonetheless, when I realize how the story is inevitably going to end I can't help but think it was a waste of my time. I want to be shocked, to have the rug pulled under my feet. Sadly, it almost never happens," he finished with a sigh.
Ever since he's time-travelled, Harry had felt like he was drowning. He had tried to fight it, to to keep his head over the water and to find land. But right at the moment, it was as if Gildelgrows had grabbed his feet and were pulling him under.
"How can it, Albus?" Elphias chuckled. "How can you be surprised if you've already read the denouement?"
The red-haired sighed again. "Maybe surprised is the wrong word, I suppose. Perhaps that what I really seek is a reason to pick a new book. And when it inevitably shows me I will not like it, I do not see why I should bother. It is better to find a better story while you still can instead of wasting your time over something you know you won't like, don't you think?"
And would Albus Dumbledore like Harry's time?
"Was Divination that fascinating?" Albus finally asked two hours later as they were leaving Herbology and heading to the Defense Against the Dark Arts's classroom.
He knew the Divination Professor rather enjoyed impressing the unsuspecting and easily manipulable students with hypnosis. Still, such parlour trick shouldn't have caused such a strong and lasting reaction. From what he's managed to glean, Harry hadn't even be receptive to his persuasions.
The new student shook his head. "Something like that. What I saw-" he grimaced.
"Ah." He sympathically smiled. "Let me reassure you then. Hypnosis is only a way for a wizard to reach his unconcious, as some Viennese alienist calls it. It does not necessarily means any of what you have just witnessed is real. In fact, it is highly probable that it was not."
In that respect, hypnosis was like oneiromancy. Studying one's dreams was without a doubt of great importance to understand one's mind and it was even more so when one knew how to control his dreams. However, one could hardly predict the future this way or even get 'visions' of places they've never been.
The brunette didn't seem convinced. "But what if it was real?" he whispered.
Albus sighed.
He shouldn't be surprised to see Professor Mesmer had managed to convince another student he was an actual seer of great power. After all, everything the man did was carefully planned to leave that impression. Like his 'talent' at telling the class the exact number of points he was going to give before the lesson even starting. Albus himself had almost fallen in this trap when he was but a Second Year.
Professor Mesmer telling his younger self he was an idiot that would finish last in his year had thankfully brought him back to reality.
Harry shook his head several times and pinched his nose. "How is the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor?" he asked him in a clear attempt to change subject.
"That, I admit I cannot tell you." Albus put his hands in his pockets as they reached the Third Floor. "Professor Merrythought is our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor so this is going to be a first for everybody."
The new student snorted. "Unbelievable," Albus heard him muttering.
He ignored the interruption. "I asked the Second Years who had class with her yesterday what they thought of her last night. From what they told me, she is rather good. She also believes apparently that it is more important to focus on the practical aspects of Defence Against the Dark Arts rather than the theorical parts."
"She's right," Harry commented. "Theory is useless. You can't just read a book and suddenly knows what to do when there's somebody trying to kill you."
When they finally entered classroom 3C, it was with some surprise that Albus realized the tables and chairs have all vanished.
"Oh," he breathed as he saw the drawings on the floor. "This is going to be good." He advanced to the center of the room and seeing Harry frowning he elaborated, "This is a duelling circle." Well, it wasn't actually a circle but the expression had stayed. "Meaning that Professor Merrythought intends to teach us the art duelling."
"Correct," a voice behind them said and Harry startled before drawing his wand. "Two points to Gryffindor. Mister Dumbledore, is that correct?"
"Yes, Professor."
Professor Merrythought was a petite witch with brown eyes and dirty blond hair. At first glance, she looked like the average witch you could meet in the street and even her relaxed posture seemed to indicate she was a frail woman who could not possibly defend herself or hurt a fly.
But Albus knew better. Appearance were often deceiving when it came to magic after all and, while her hands were in her pockets, he had no doubt considering the lines in her robe she has been holding her wand and pointing it in Harry's direction the moment he has drawed his.
"And you must be Mister Potter." Head turned to Harry who couldn't help blinking. "Professor Dippet may have mentionned the two of you. Apparently, you are rather good at Defence Against the Dark Arts." As Harry put his wand back in his pocket, Professor Merrythought slowly crossed her arms. "From what I understand, your class hasn't done any duelling before."
"That is correct, Professor."
"But you have duelled before, haven't you?"
Albus paused. "I admit I have not. I have learned what I could in my spare time but I've never put what I've learned into practice."
She nodded. "What about you, Mister Potter?"
"I had a lesson once but…" Harry grimaced. "It's complicated," he finally settled. "I've been parts of some… duels but nothing very official."
"I suppose we'll see soon enough," she said as the rest of the class started entering the room. "If this doesn't bother you, may I require your help for today's lesson?"
"We will be delighted to help you, Professor," Albus assured her.
"Perfect." She smiled as the rest of the class began entering the room.
Harry slowly turned to him.
"Welcome everybody," Professor Merrythought began once everybody has arrived. "My name is Galatea Merrythought and from this day forward I will be your Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. This year, as I have no doubt you know, you will have to sit for your Ordinary Wizarding Level Tests. And while it is easy to study the theorical portion, the practical portion requires far more than you knowing which spell to use. No, you will have to show your examiner that you are able to use these spells adequately."
As Professor Merrythought began explaining how she was going to focus on them practicing the spells they would learn in her class by making duelling tournaments, Harry slowly turned to him. "I don't remember saying yes," he slowly hissed.
Albus shrugged. "Were you going to say no?" he whispered back.
"That's not the point! We don't even know what we're supposed to do!"
"I think that is rather obvious actually."
Harry frowned, but before he could ask for further explanations, Professor Merrythought finished her introduction: "To show you, I have asked two of your classmates to start a friendly duel. I have no doubt seeing them in action will be enlightening for everybody."
Harry was going to duel Dumbledore.
Harry was going to duel Dumbledore.
The announcement had startled him so much he hadn't even bothered listening to Professor Merrythought's explanations about how to greet his opponent and was now stupidly facing the prefect in the center of the duelling circle.
He, Harry Potter, was going to duel Albus Dumbledore, arguably the greatest wizard of the century.
If he had known what would be asked of him, he would have refused. Well, maybe he would have accepted but, at minimum, he would have liked having a choice.
"If you leave the dueling circle, you only have seven seconds to go back inside," Professor Merrythought explained. "Past this time, you lose. The duel will end when either one of you leave the circle for more than seven seconds or lose his wand. There is no time limit in itself, but I may have to stop the duel if class ends before a clear winner is found."
"Five sickles Dumbledore will trounce him in five minutes," a Slytherin behind him whispered.
"Ten, he will in two."
The red-haired raised his wand. "May the best one win," he lightly said as he gracefully bowed.
Jaw tense, Harry slowly did the same, his eyes never leaving the prefect.
"At three, the duel begins. One. Two."
Dumbledore smiled and Harry gritted his teeth when he heard the students snickering.
"Three."
"Protego!" Harry exclaimed as a light blue spell immediately started leaving Dumbledore's wand.
The shield hadn't even stopped reflecting the first curse that another other spell hit it.
And another.
And another.
A few times Harry thought his shield would shatter as Dumbledore kept firing spells at an almost inhuman speed. Harry even had to take several steps back when one sickly yellow curse hit the shield which gave an omnious gong-like sound.
But the shield held. And after what what felt like an eternity to Harry, the wizard stopped his assault to take a breath.
Harry took advantage of the opening. "Impedimenta!"
Dumbledore did a pirouette, avoiding the jinx and an army of bees suddenly appeared and angrily flew in Harry's direction.
The vanishing spell sent the bees to the non-being.
Albus blinked, slowly smiled, and conjured a bullterrier as he narrowly avoided a disarming charm.
With a sharp swish of his wand, Harry stunned the animal running in his direction and threw another disarming charm and a protego.
Unfortunately, the wizard ducked the spell before throwing a green curse.
Harry's heart stopped as he saw the all too distinctive emerald light coming in his direction and jumped out of the curse' path. He hurriedly turned around, praying nobody got hit by the Unforgivable.
When he saw the emerald wall behind him, he was so shocked he didn't even register he had left the duelling circle and the students had already started counting down.
Something ugly formed in his chest when he saw the wizard smiling and heard the rest of the class chanting : "Five, Four, Three..."
A colouring charm. It had just been just a colouring charm.
Harry rolled back to the duelling circle as Dumbledore casted the disarming charm.
Dumbledore's goal had never been to disarm him. It had been to push him out of the circle. That was why he had kept throwing so many spells at him. He hadn't hoped to break his shield, he had wanted to push him back until he was out of bounds. And as it was strong enough to resist his attack, he had made a feint to push him into making a mistake.
The anger that had been following him all year was back, as if it had never really left. It had been bad enough when Professor Dumbledore had been treating him like a child and not taking him seriously after everything he's been through, it was even worse to realize the fifteen years old was doing the same.
'So this is just a game for you,' he thought as he started firing spells at him.
"Stupefy! Impedimenta! Reducto!"
'Looking down on everybody. Not even bothering to look at me in the eyes.'
Dumbledore's protego shattered under his curses and he hissed in pain when a reducto hit his right shoulder.
'Always telling me what to do, but never explaining why. Always keeping me in the dark.'
Wasn't it because he hadn't known what Voldemort was seeking in the Department of Mysteries he had gone there with his friends? Worse, did he know about the Voldemort living in his head and just hadn't bothered telling him?
"Expelliarmus!"
The spell hit Dumbledore's shoulder and he screamed.
When the wand reached his open hand, Harry looked at the wizard and grimly smiled.
"Game over."
And, even though it was most probably unfair and he was being irrational, Harry in that moment couldn't help thinking this whole mess was the fault of the wizard in front of him.
