Child of Hogwarts, Part II: The Marauder Legacy

by AimeretVivre

Sequel to COH, Part I. Follows Harry through Year Three at Hogwarts. See Part I for the premise... With Remus Lupin returned to Britain and Sirius Black on the move, Harry, Albus, Minerva and Severus continue to adjust to their changing realities and prepare for an uncertain future... while the ghosts of their pasts refuse to lie dormant. Mentorship; Training; Adventure.

21. The Balance

A/N: Hi everyone! It's here at last – Chapter 21! I'll leave this note brief, as there isn't too much new to say and I know you've all been waiting for this chapter for a few weeks now… it is far lengthier (and a bit angstier – and yes, I made that word up) than my usual, which is part of the reason it took me so long to complete in this hectic time of life. There just didn't seem to be a good place to end it earlier. In any case, I do hope the extra pages will be a bit of a treat for your patience. It is also our last full chapter of summer hols – we'll be headed back for term next time!

Review responses for Chapter 20 are at the bottom. Please do review if you can – it is wonderful to hear from readers who are liking the story, and your comments often give me inspiration and motivation to get the next chapter up post-haste!

Enjoy Chapter 21!

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DISCLAIMER: Any and all familiar characters and story lines are the property of the wonderful Joanne Rowling, in whose world I am honoured and privileged to have an opportunity to play for a while.

Chapter 21: The Balance

Sirius hardly dared to breathe from his place in the hedgerow, though he was straining his ears to hear the conversation from the cabin.

Remus.

It was only the second time he'd seen the man since his arrival at Hogwarts, and by far the closest they'd been to one another. The realisation was both exhilarating and terrifying. As he listened to the tense conversation, a part of him longed to burst through the door – to make Remus listen to the story; to understand. And a part of him remained frozen in Hagrid's hedgerow, wracked with fear that Remus' recent transformation might make him more sensitive to Sirius' familiar scent. Certainly, Remus would recognise him, whatever his form. Even Hagrid might – for Sirius could not be sure that Remus had not told their secret. He suspected he had not; for he would have been guarded even more closely in Azkaban if the wizarding world had known he could transform… but that had been before his escape. Would Remus still keep the secret from Dumbledore, now that they all believed he was after Harry to avenge Lord Voldemort?

He could not move until the man had gone.

The whole thing had started out so innocently. The castle had been very quiet the past few days, and Sirius had seen neither Harry, Minerva nor Albus in the grounds. Hagrid had acquired a few hippogriffs he was keeping in a pen near the edge of the forest, and Sirius had seen him out and about, feeding the beasts bits of fresh meat that looked so much more enticing than the woodland rodents Sirius had been feasting on for weeks. That, and the fresh barrel of mead Hagrid was maturing in his garden, had drawn him from the forest today. He'd only been hoping for a pilfered taste.

He'd never seen Remus in the grounds. Even at the full moon, the werewolf had, apparently, holed up somewhere in the castle. He'd worried that his old friend would have scented him during the transformation… but he'd never been rumbled in the forest. The only time he'd seen Remus, before tonight, had been a passing glimpse as the man wandered up the path from the gates at twilight some fortnight ago.

But today was different.

From his crouch at the edge of the forest, Sirius could not see the castle or the path to the gamekeeper's hut. He might have smelled Remus' approach, if he hadn't been so focused on the bits of chop that Hagrid was tossing over the fence of the paddock for the hippogriffs to feast. He stole half a steak that the beasts had missed, dragging it under a corner of their fence and into the bushes to eat as Hagrid moseyed his way back to his cabin, humming tunelessly. Feeling sated for the first time in weeks, he'd decided to take his chances with the barrel of mead.

It wasn't until he'd reached the edges of the garden that the summer's breeze alerted him to Remus' presence, almost at the same time as he began to hear the voices. He'd only just ducked behind the hedgerow, straining to listen to the discussion as Harry's name rang back to him on the wind.

' – got himself into a bit of a scrape, again,' Remus was informing the gamekeeper wearily.

'Don' know how he manages it,' the gamekeeper said fondly. 'But he always has, ever since his firs' year. Think even I'm getting' a few o' them grey hairs from all of it.'

Sirius felt his heart singing… he was just like James. And just like Harry; the Harry that Sirius remembered. Perhaps there was more of the happy toddler he remembered in this unfamiliar teenager than he'd first thought. Even as a baby, Harry had always been getting himself into trouble. And Sirius…

'You're going to miss all the fun!' James teased, coming out of the kitchen for the door and looking as though sneaking off with Remus to try to catch Wormtail with a female companion was about to be the best time he'd had in years. Sirius, who was still regretting his rash offer to stay behind with Lily and the baby so that James could have a bit of time off, grimaced at the reminder.

'Bugger off,' said Sirius moodily, tossing one of the throw pillows at James. He dodged it easily, but paused in his exodus to flick off his best mate as he pulled a travelling cloak around his shoulders.

'Bugga!' Harry repeated happily, crawling out from his hiding place under the table.

Sirius groaned, but James laughed.

'You're in for it now,' he warned. 'Lily will murder you.'

'He's too smart for his own good,' Sirius complained, scooping the baby off the ground.

'Bugga,' Harry said again, delighted with his new word.

'Good luck,' said James with another laugh. He swept for the door.

Sirius sank onto the sofa, setting the child on his knee and looking seriously into his face.

'Harry,' he said, 'That is a bad word. Padfoot never ever should have said it.'

'Bugga?' Harry repeated, cocking his head.

'No,' Sirius said, pressing a finger gently to the baby's lips. 'We can't say that word anymore.'

'No,' Harry repeated, giggling. Sirius sighed.

'Do you want to play hide and seek again?' he asked him, setting the baby down on his slightly unsteady legs. Harry clapped his hands together in enthusiasm.

'Good,' Sirius said, relieved at the distraction. He pulled out his wand, casting a disillusionment charm on himself. The baby's eyes widened as he vanished from sight, and Sirius crept over to the other side of the living room.

'Come and find me, Harry,' he called in a soft voice. The baby looked around wildly, staring into the corners of the room. He toddled toward the hearth and stuck his tiny head up the empty floo.

'Adfoo?' he called, his shrill little voice echoing in the empty chimney and surprising the toddler so much that he started.

Sirius gave a bark of laughter in spite of himself. Harry pulled his head out, whipping round to stare suspiciously at the place where Sirius' voice had come from. He broke into a wide grin.

'Gots!' he said triumphantly, sprinting toward Sirius as fast as his tiny legs would allow.

Unfortunately, Darby chose that moment to dart across the floor, and Harry was not yet coordinated enough to avoid him. He tripped, pulling a somersault right through the air and crashing to the carpet. The cat meowed loudly and threw himself under the sofa. For a moment, Harry just lay there on his hands and knees, blinking in surprise. Then he pushed himself into a sitting position, and he and Sirius both noticed for the first time that he'd scraped a knee in the fall. Harry stared at the bit of blood for about half a second, before letting out an almighty wail.

'Oh, it's alright darling, it's ok,' Sirius assured him, wordlessly lifting his enchantment as he rushed toward the distraught baby. 'Don't cry now, it's just a scrape.'

'What's this then?' Lily asked, coming through the kitchen door to find Sirius and Harry on the floor. She crouched down to get a look.

'Tripped over the cat,' Sirius explained, as Lily gently examined Harry's knee. 'I think he's more surprised than hurt.'

Lily took the child from him, shushing him as she moved them into the kitchen. 'It's alright, love,' she said, brushing his tears with her fingertips. 'Mummy will make it all better.'

'Watch him a moment,' she said to Sirius, as she set Harry on the counter and began digging in the potions cupboard. Sirius, still feeling a bit guilty, put one hand on the baby's thighs to keep him from falling.

'It's been happening a lot lately,' she told Sirius as she rummaged in the stores.

'With the cat?' Sirius asked, surprised. 'That's odd.'

'Not the cat,' said Lily impatiently. 'With Harry. He's just at that age: he wants to run about and play all the time, but he's not quite up to it yet. I can't keep enough bruise balm or disinfectant in – ah, here we go.'

She emerged from the high cupboard with two small phials and a jar, smiling as she turned back to her son. Harry had stopped crying now.

'Owie,' he said gravely, looking up with wet eyes at his mother.

'I know, darling,' Lily said. 'Open up,' she held a spoonful of the pain reliever. Harry's lip began to tremble as he shook his head. Lily sighed. 'Come on, sweetheart. You want Mummy to do it first?'

Harry considered. 'Adfoo!' he said, clapping his hands. Lily, looking amused, turned the spoon expectantly toward Sirius.

'Okay, open up, Padfoot!'

Sirius raised an eyebrow. 'What are you on about, Lils?' he said warily. 'I'm not hurt.'

'No,' she agreed. 'But you're going to show Harry how good it is for you! Your turn first, then Harry's, right love?'

Harry clapped again. Sirius groaned.

'You can't be serious,' he complained. Lily's eyes flashed dangerously.

'Sirius, it's hardly half a spoonful,' she said reasonably. 'And it's a child's dosage, it'll hardly harm you.'

Sirius pulled a face, but he allowed Lily to tip the spoonful into his mouth all the same. He tried to mask his disgust as he swallowed forcibly, longing to dive for the icebox and something to wash it down.

'Mmm!' he lied, smiling for Harry. Even the fourteen-month-old seemed to know he was lying. He wrinkled his tiny brow doubtfully.

'Harry's turn!' said Lily in a singsong voice. Harry still didn't look convinced, but he allowed Lily to push the spoonful of potion into his mouth all the same. She kept his jaw firmly closed until he swallowed it, sticking out his tongue at the taste. Lily handed him a child's cup with some juice and he suckled happily, barely noticing as she took the opportunity to dab some of the disinfectant over his knee.

'He tolerates it better than you,' she grumbled to Sirius, who had taken their distraction for his chance to dive for the icebox, guzzling a butterbeer as quickly as he could.

'Ugh, that stuff is foul,' said Sirius, wiping the foam from his lip. 'You take it on purpose?'

Lily shrugged, tapping Harry's knee with her wand to heal the abrasion. 'He'll take the potions easily enough if he sees someone else do it first. And he's getting too big to keep mixing them into other things; that only really works for the teething and fever reducing potions anyway. Most of the others can't be altered.'

'How many have you taken?'

'Twenty, give or take,' Lily said with another shrug. 'Pass me the balm, won't you?'

Sirius raised a brow as he handed the tub of bruise balm over. 'You're a masochist,' he accused. 'That can't be good for you.'

'It's fine,' she said as she unscrewed the cap. 'Like I said, it's very mild. I should know, I made it.'

'Whatever you say,' Sirius said doubtfully.

'Take care with yourself, Harry,' Lily said seriously to the tiny child, rubbing a bit of some salve over his knee as she lifted his chin with a finger. 'I made you from scratch, you know.'

Baby Harry giggled, throwing his tiny arms around her neck. Lily caught him up deftly and swung him onto her hip.

'Bugga!' Harry giggled, pointing a pudgy hand at Sirius.

Sirius cringed: the situation was about to get a whole lot worse.

'Harry,' he warned.

'What did you say lovie?' Lily asked, her green eyes narrowing.

'Bugga!' Harry repeated, flapping the hand excitedly.

'Hey scamp, we weren't going to say that word again, remember?' Sirius reminded the hopeless baby. 'We agreed it.'

The child giggled again, completely oblivious, as Lily turned a wrathful gaze on Sirius…

'They brought him back this morning,' Remus was saying to the gamekeeper, bringing Sirius abruptly back to the present. The conversation in the cabin seemed to have sunk drastically out of its lighter tone during his mental absence. Remus' voice was strained and tired.

'An he's alrigh?' Hagrid asked, sounding almost as anxious.

'I suppose,' said Remus doubtfully. 'He's recovered from the physical strain, at least. Minerva is with him now, and she's informing Dumbledore. I don't know all the details myself. I just sat with him while she saw the other children home this morning, and Harry was asleep the entire time. From what I gather, they never found out who took him.'

Took him? Sirius thought wildly. He cursed himself for having tuned out the meat of the exchange.

'Blimey, he's lucky he weren' killed,' Hagrid growled. 'With Sirius Black on the loose an' all.'

Sirius had to bite down on his own snarl. The effort nearly cost him Remus' response.

'– don't think it was Sirius,' the werewolf was saying. 'At least, not from what Harry seemed to be able to tell. But it was almost certainly a Death Eater. They used the Cruciatus Curse on him. At least twice, from what Minerva said.'

There was a sound of breaking china, a muttered oath, and an excited dog's yip. Sirius felt certain that Hagrid had just smashed a mug inside the cabin. He could understand the impulse. His own limbs were shaking in tension and anger, and he tasted metal as blood began to pool from his efforts to continue to keep his rage in check. The swell of it began to drip sickeningly down his muzzle.

The Weasley boy was with him… If this was the Rat…

'I know,' Remus agreed darkly as Hagrid's swearing finally subsided. 'And Albus will be furious when he returns. But Emmeline, Minerva and Severus were able to treat him immediately, and it seems he will be alright. I just can't believe Harry was exposed to such atrocities in the first place, especially at his age. We have been overestimating our own abilities to keep him from –'

'Fang, what're yeh doin', yeh dozy dog?' Hagrid said distractedly, breaking into Remus' trail of thought.

Sirius heard it too. The boarhound was whinging, and it sounded as though he were scrabbling the wood of Hagrid's cabin door. Even through his white-hot fury, Sirius began to grow uneasy again. He'd forgotten about the dog… and Fang was surely scenting him now. It wouldn't be safe to stay any longer.

As carefully as he could, Sirius backed out of the hedgerow and away from the hut, retreating across the grounds to the refuge of the forest. Luckily, Hagrid seemed to have shrugged of the boarhound's behaviour – for he did not hear the dog's padding footsteps following his flight.

Harry…

From the sound of it, his godson had only narrowly escaped another brush with death. Another brush with death that he never should have had – never would have had, if it wasn't for Sirius' folly.

But it was only a few more weeks… a few short weeks, and the Rat would be at the school once more.

And Sirius would kill him.

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'An owl, Minerva?' the headmaster asked, appearing as silently as the summer's breeze at the top of the tower.

Minerva whirled at once with an undignified squeal, clutching at the handrail to steady herself.

'Albus!' she said in shock. 'What on – how did you appear so?'

Albus smiled a little in spite of himself. 'Fawkes,' he told her smoothly, coming to join her at the rail. 'He can be most subtle, when he chooses. I arrived not ten minutes ago, saw Harry was asleep, and assumed you'd come up here to clear your own mind. It is a perfect night for it.'

Minerva gave a throaty noise of either affirmation or protest, and Albus returned to his penetrating stare.

'You might have used the floo,' he suggested pointedly.

'And would it have done much good?' Minerva countered. 'You said yourself that you needed to show face at the conference this year after your abrupt exit last summer, and Harry was hardly in any danger by that point anyway.'

'Perhaps,' Albus allowed. 'But I would have liked to have known immediately, all the same.'

Minerva looked away with a frown, staring across the grounds.

'We don't know who did it,' she said. Unnecessarily, as her letter had communicated most of the details anyway.

'I am aware,' the headmaster said. 'Although, I am surprised you allowed Severus to perform Legilimency on the child in an effort to discover the answer.'

Minerva whirled again, her eyes flashing in defiance. 'You disapprove?' she challenged. 'There was no alternative, except to wait for your return with the Pensieve. And it did not seem prudent to delay.'

'I did not say I disapproved,' Albus countered carefully. 'Merely that the information surprised me.'

Minerva looked unsure now, as she deflated a little. 'I am not certain it was wise,' she admitted, rubbing her arms against the chill of the night, or perhaps the chill of the memory. 'But it did seem the only option.'

'It was a reasonable answer to a difficult problem,' Albus assured her. 'I would have done the same, had our roles been reversed.'

Minerva sighed. 'It didn't make any difference,' she said. 'Severus was unable to tell anything of value from the memory. He saw the threats made against Harry, and Harry's use of wandless magic, and the curses…' she trailed off a moment, knuckles whitening against her arm. 'But he did not recognise either the place where Harry was held or his captor. He could only concur with Harry's description of the captor's beginning to change at the end of the incident… which seems to point to Polyjuice Potion.'

Albus inclined his head. 'Unfortunate,' he agreed. 'But hardly unexpected. The disguise was well chosen. I imagine Severus himself is more upset at the use of his own persona than his inability to identify the culprit. I dare say he will go to great lengths to discover how the guise was accomplished.'

'And you have no idea who it might have been, Albus?' Minerva asked, slightly desperately.

Albus shook his head. 'I have… many theories,' he said carefully. 'Each as unlikely as the next. What seems certain, however, is that the unrest and dissention that have plagued the country since Black's escape is growing, and that presents a serious threat to Harry's safety.'

Minerva was chewing her lip in anxiety.

'What is it?' Albus asked, moving closer to her and rubbing a thumb across the abused lip to cease its torment.

'He tried to kill him,' she said quietly, raising her eyes to meet the headmaster's. 'Whoever it was who took Harry – he tried to kill him in that room.'

Albus frowned. 'Yes,' he said in some confusion. 'It was very lucky that Harry had a portkey on him, or things might have –'

'No,' Minerva disagreed with a shake of her head. 'Not might have, Albus. Severus saw it in the memory. Just as Harry activated the pendant, his captor fired a final hex. Avada Kedavra, Albus. Harry missed Death by millimetres.'

Albus said nothing, but pulled Minerva to him tightly. The weight of her head against his chest relieved some of his own fear.

'I should not have left his side,' she said angrily. 'Severus should not have –'

'Perhaps,' said Albus heavily. 'And perhaps I should not have allowed Harry to leave the castle without my escort. Perhaps Severus should have been more careful with his possessions. Perhaps we should have taught all our students to be wary of Polyjuiced-professors. There is no use in looking for blame, Minerva. It cannot undo the past. And what happened last night was not your fault.'

'We are going to have to be even more careful,' she said fretfully, pushing herself up from his embrace. 'We need to –'

'To what?' Albus asked, raising his eyebrows. 'To lock Harry inside the castle walls until he comes of age? To teach him to trust no one, confide in no one, and keep to his chambers in paranoia? He is thirteen, Minerva. A very unusual thirteen-year-old, it is true. But I will not steal all semblance of his childhood to raise him in a glass box.'

'There is no sense in unnecessary risk, Albus!' Minerva argued. 'I couldn't bear it if we lost him, and –'

'Nor could I,' Albus agreed. 'And I'm not suggesting we take chances with his life. Nothing is more important than keeping him safe and well. But we must balance our caution, Minerva. Harry will not take to being caged, and he will not thrive in one.'

Minerva sighed, leaning back against him again. For a long moment, they were silent.

'What news from Remus?' Albus asked, trying for a lighter subject.

'He is prepared, I think,' Minerva said. 'I spoke to him first thing this morning, and I sent the letters out this afternoon. The Weasleys and Grangers I hand delivered with the children… and, I must say, I do think Ron Weasley was rather disappointed on learning his brother would be this year's Head Boy.'

Albus chuckled in spite of himself.

'But I did mean to ask you, Albus… the Hogsmeade permission forms,' Minerva began hesitantly.

Albus sobered again, deliberating the unspoken thought. 'No,' he agreed. He felt Minerva relax against him. 'You are right in this, my love. Unnecessary risks tempt Fate further than I would have her bend. I will tell him in the morning.'

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Harry had spent much of the day after the quidditch match asleep – probably due to the overlarge dose of Dreamless Sleep potion that Snape had forced down his throat that night. He had no memory at all of their trip back to the castle, nor of Remus coming by as apparently he had done in the morning, nor of Ron and Hermione's departure. By the time he finally came round, it was well past supper and night had long fallen. Minerva was dozing lightly in a chair by his bedside, but she roused herself long enough to check up on him, allow him a trip to the loo and bully him into taking a calming draught… which had the effect of putting him right back to sleep once more.

But the calming potion did not keep the dreams at bay.

'I want to hear you beg for mercy, Harry Potter. I want to watch you suffer as you die at my feet…'

'Crucio!'

A high, cold laugh… and pain; pain that would rip his very heart from its chest…

Blood… vomit… the terrifying grip of suffocation…

'Not Harry, please, Not Harry – I'll do anything!'

A high cold laugh… and pain; pain that threatened to split his head in two…

'There is only power, and those too weak to seek it…'

Blood… his head was aching, fit to burst –

'Harry!'

Someone was shaking him, and someone was screaming. Harry wrenched his eyes apart, only to realise that the screaming was his own. He stopped at once, breathing heavily as he tried to get his bearings. The room was at an oddly tilted angle. Harry was drenched in cold sweat, but his limbs were not burning from the inside out. His head felt normal, and whole. There was no stone, no dirt, no fake-Snape.

There was only Dumbledore, fully dressed and wearing a travelling cloak, and staring over half-mooned spectacles with concern etched in every line of his face.

'You're alright,' the headmaster assured him quietly, easing him back against the pillows.

Harry only vaguely registered that the tilted angle of his view was due to Albus' grip on his shoulders as he was settled back down on the bed and released. The headmaster brushed his hair back with one ancient hand.

'You're – you're back,' Harry said hoarsely. At any other moment, he might have been somewhat chagrined by the desperation in his own voice… but he could not help it tonight. Dumbledore's face was the only thing in the world that might have been able to shake him from his fears. He could not be hurt, if the headmaster was here.

'Yes,' Albus agreed with a small smile. 'I arrived not an hour ago. I was just coming in to check on you before heading to bed myself. It is quite late.'

Harry felt the beginnings of shame begin to heat his cheeks. 'I – I'm sorry,' he muttered. 'I didn't mean to –'

'You have more reason to scream tonight, Harry,' said the headmaster seriously, 'Than most wizards have in a lifetime. There is nothing to apologise for.'

'Did I wake Minerva?' Harry asked anxiously, turning to check the armchair where the professor had been dozing earlier. 'She was so tired – I think she's been staying up with me.'

'I sent Minerva to get some rest in her own quarters,' Albus assured him, conjuring a glass of water. 'She did not go quietly, I assure you,' he added, with a twinkle. The familiarity and lightness in the gesture relieved some of Harry's stress. He offered his own ghost of a grin.

'How are you feeling?' Dumbledore asked, as Harry took the drink with a word of thanks.

'Not too bad,' Harry said, truthfully. 'Just tired, mostly. I don't know why though,' he added bitterly, 'As I've been sleeping for almost a whole day.'

'Magical exhaustion,' the headmaster said with another smile. 'And a rather heady combination of healing potions. Not that it was not duly earned, mind you.'

'I was stupid,' said Harry, shaking his head and breaking eye-contact with Albus. 'I never should have let myself be tricked like that. I should have asked more questions. I'm sorry if I've disappointed you.'

'On the contrary,' Dumbledore disagreed. 'I have never been more simultaneously terrified and proud in my life. You kept your head, Harry, in an impossible situation. And you escaped with your life. Very few wizards could have managed such a feat, and I can think of no other child of your age who might have been capable of it. You were your own saviour last night, Harry. And you should be proud of that accomplishment.'

'He nearly had me,' Harry admitted, shuddering again as the memory played in his mind. 'That curse – there was so much pain. More than I could possibly have imagined. I thought I would die from it. He wanted me to die from it. I couldn't even think when he had me under the spell. I was burning…'

'It is a terrible, evil spell,' the headmaster said, a hardness in his voice that Harry hadn't heard since the night that Dumbledore had first taken him from the Dursleys with a fractured cheekbone. 'An appalling and unforgivable curse.'

'That's what Ron called it,' said Harry, remembering the hazy details suddenly. 'An Unforgivable. What is that exactly, sir?'

'There are three,' the headmaster told him. His eyes were no longer twinkling. 'They are traditionally referred to as the "Unforgivable Curses," because there is almost never an opportunity for goodness in their use. Casting any one of the three unforgivable curses – even once – is enough to earn a wizard a lifetime in Azkaban prison. They require enormous intent and power to cast correctly, and – unlike most hexes and curses – they cannot be blocked with a shield charm. The spell that was used on you is called the Cruciatus Curse. It is designed to torture the victim with unbearable pain. It can cause serious and sometimes permanent damage, both physical and mental, if a wizard is held under its power too long or too often.'

Harry shuddered again, remembering Snape's questioning in the bedroom of the inn.

'That's why Snape wanted to know how long he'd done it to me,' Harry recalled aloud.

'Most definitely,' the headmaster agreed, still in that hardened tone. 'It was very lucky that Severus also had a counter potion brewed – it significantly decreases the chances of physical side effects.'

'Uhuh,' said Harry noncommittally. He could not get the snarling face of his unknown captor out of his mind...

'What are the other two?' he asked, mostly to divert the disturbing train of thought. 'The other two curses, I mean.'

'One is called the Imperius Curse,' said Albus. 'It is a curse of control, which renders its victims nothing but puppets to the caster's will. It cannot be blocked with a shield charm, but it can be resisted, in very rare cases and with extreme strength of will. For most wizards, however, the Imperius Curse entraps the victim into doing the will of their master. People under the Imperius Curse have spied for enemies, committed acts of torture, or even killed their own loved ones. There is no easy way to determine if a wizard has been cursed, and very few ways to lift the enchantment or break the master's power over his victim. Many wizards claimed, in the wake of Voldemort's downfall, that they were victims of the Imperius Curse as an excuse for the crimes they were accused of committing. Some were sincere in their declaration, for it was a favourite among Tom Riddle's followers. Others were able to convince the Ministry of their sincerity, though they may have been inventing the story.'

Harry frowned. 'But, surely, a truth potion could –'

'Truth potions are highly regulated,' Albus explained. 'And they are not generally permissible until guilt has been established beyond reasonable doubt through other means. Even where veritaserum – the most powerful of the truth potions – is employed, there are other potions and magics that resist its effects. Occlumency, for one.'

Harry frowned, considering a way around the problem.

'You can see the dilemma,' the headmaster said seriously.

'I…. suppose so,' Harry conceded. 'What about the third curse? You said there were three.'

'Yes,' said Dumbledore, looking graver still. 'The third, and most terrible of all, is called Avada Kedavra. It is the Killing Curse.'

And Harry saw it, as Dumbledore said the words… the flash of green light… the rushing sound of approaching Death…

'That's how he did it,' he said quietly. He was not surprised to hear the fear in his own whisper. 'Voldemort. That's how he murdered my mum and dad.'

'Yes,' Albus agreed. 'It is murder – in its purest, simplest form. Avada Kedavra leaves no visible trace, and its effects are instantaneous. There is no blocking the curse, and there is no countercharm save one – the very rare act of sacrificial magic, motivated by the purest of love. Your mother's love was enough to counter the terrible power of the Killing Curse. And that is why you, my dear boy, are the only known person to survive it.'

Harry frowned again as he thought the words through. 'Well, that can't be entirely true,' he pointed out.

The headmaster cocked his head. 'How so?' he asked with interest.

'You told me that the curse – Voldemort's curse – rebounded on its caster when he tried to kill me,' Harry recounted. 'So surely that means that Voldemort was also hit with the Killing Curse. And he's alive.'

'Technically… perhaps,' the headmaster allowed. 'But only just. His body was destroyed by the spell. He is neither dead nor alive, really. He exists, at the moment, in a tenuous state between the living and the dead.'

'So he's… amortal?' Harry clarified, hoping he remembered the term. 'Like the Dementors?'

Albus looked rather impressed. 'An interesting way of viewing things,' he said with a half-smile. 'And yes, I suppose that is as apt a comparison as one could make under the circumstances. Voldemort cannot be killed while he exists in such a form. And yet he is not truly alive. He did not survive the Killing Curse as a Man, as you did. But he was not vanquished by it either.'

'Why, though?' Harry asked, still frowning. 'I know why I survived – because of my mother's sacrifice. But she sacrificed herself for me, not for him. So there must be another way to counter the charm; something other than the magic my mother used. How did Voldemort survive?'

'Alas, a question for the ages,' Dumbledore said, the merest flicker of a twinkle back in his eye. 'And quite as fascinating a topic for debate as your own miraculous survival. Though, somehow, far less discussed. Perhaps it is the stubborn refusal of our fellow wizards to admit that some version of Lord Voldemort continues to exist.'

'Maybe,' Harry mumbled. He studied Dumbledore's expression… the benign twinkle and the abrupt return to lightness. He could sense the answer in the offing; could tell that the headmaster was hiding the ball.

'Do you know, sir?' he asked bluntly, slipping back automatically into the school-boy address. 'Do you know how he survived the curse?'

Dumbledore did not answer at once. Instead, he adjusted the bed clothes, and dimmed the candles with a wave of his hand. Harry was just getting ready to protest the avoidance when, at last, the headmaster held up a hand.

'I have suspicions, Harry,' he allowed, smoothing the hand over Harry's hair again. 'There are other ways – darker ways – that a wizard might be able to use to avoid the effects of Avada Kedavra. Tom Riddle was more immersed in the Dark Arts than any other wizard of the modern age. It is possible, and I would venture so far as to guess it probable, that he used one or more of these methods the night he attacked Godric's Hollow. They are what kept him clinging to his shadow of life.'

'What methods?' Harry pressed. But Dumbledore shook his head.

'Not tonight, Harry,' he said apologetically. 'Not yet. I know you detest to hear it, but you are not yet ready for the information. You are too young.'

'You've said this before,' Harry pointed out with a scowl. 'I asked you, right after I came to after the philosopher's stone, why Voldemort came after me as a baby. You said I was too young to know, but that you –'

'Would tell you, one day, when you were older. And when you were ready,' Dumbledore finished with a sigh.

'I'm ready now,' Harry insisted.

'No, you are not,' Albus disagreed. His voice was more kindly than firm, but Harry found the patronisation only that much more infuriating.

'I'm thirteen,' Harry pointed out, barely keeping his temper in check. 'And I've had rather a lot to deal with already,' he said defiantly. 'I can handle the truth.'

'Truth is never as simple as it seems,' the headmaster said enigmatically. 'And I do not ever forget the trials you have been put to already, which have been far too frequent and far too dangerous for any wizard of your age. But I will not change my mind in this, Harry. I know it is frustrating for you, but you are too young yet for some answers. And I will not dishonour my affection for you, nor my respect for your intelligence, by offering a lie.'

Dumbledore's tone was still kindly, but there was a finality in the answer that told Harry pursuing the subject would be fruitless. He lay in semi-sullen silence instead, allowing Albus to card his hair. The gesture was soothing, though Harry felt anything but sleepy anymore.

'You should rest,' the headmaster said, as though he could read Harry's thoughts.

'I'm not tired,' Harry insisted. 'I've done nothing but sleep since we got back.' He paused, considering Albus again. The headmaster was still in his travelling clothes. 'You don't have to sit up with me though,' he added in a less obstinate voice. 'I don't think I'll have nightmares again, and you've only just come back. You must be tired.'

Albus smiled softly. 'Old men need far less sleep than society seems to assume,' he quipped. 'And you need rest, Harry. True rest, to recover your faculties. I can get you a Dreamless –'

'No!' Harry cut in quickly. 'Er – I mean, that's alright,' he amended more politely. 'I don't want any more potions… I've taken more in the past two days than I ever want to see again in my life.'

Dumbledore chuckled. 'Very well then,' he allowed. 'I shall put a light sleeping charm on you instead. It should help keep away the dreams – at least for a time. And I suspect we shall both be more useful in the morning after a few hours' peaceful rest.'

Because he knew an argument would only end with his own defeat, Harry agreed. And, even through his frustration with the headmaster, the light touch of Dumbledore's familiar magic lulled him into the most restful sleep he had had in weeks.

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Sunday dawned bright and just a bit chilly – a testament, Harry suspected, to approaching autumn. Although he could not set aside entirely the horrors of the past few days, he was comforted by the presence of the headmaster and Minerva in the study, reading the Prophet and having their tea in a routine sort of way. They made their way down to the Great Hall together, where Snape was already looking surly over a plate of breakfast.

'Where's Remus?' Harry asked curiously. He had been rather hoping to see him, after sleeping through the previous day's visit.

'He has gone to pick up a delivery in the village,' Albus told him with an amused smile. 'Although I do recommend a visit to his office later this afternoon. I think you might enjoy a look.' Harry grinned, especially when he saw Minerva's disapproving glare. He suspected whatever Remus had to show him would be well worth the visit.

'I can't believe we get both Remus and Hagrid teaching us this year,' said Harry happily, as he accepted a plate of hash from Minerva. 'It's brilliant.'

'Indeed,' Minerva said, scooping a measure of fruit next to the pile of meats without his say-so, 'Though I do wish you would reconsider your elective courses, Harry,' she told him sternly. 'Divination… it really is such a waste of time. Are you sure you won't switch out for Ancient Runes?'

Harry opened his mouth to talk back, but the headmaster seemed to sense the argument.

'That does remind me,' Dumbledore said loudly. He pulled an envelope with emerald ink from the folds of his robes with twinkling eyes. 'Your letter for the start of term,' he explained, passing the envelope to Harry. 'It did seem foolish to trouble an owl, but we ought to ensure you've purchased the required texts.'

Harry grinned as he slid a finger under the seal. He noticed that the package was a bit thicker than usual, and pulled three sheets of parchment from the interior. The first was, traditionally, a reminder that term would start the first of September, and that the Hogwarts Express would leave Kings Cross from platform 9 ¾ at eleven o'clock. The second was his book list for term, including the assigned texts for his new elective courses. And the third was –

'A permission form?' said Harry curiously, scanning the parchment. 'We're allowed to visit the village this term?'

'Ah,' said Dumbledore, looking awkward. 'Yes, third years are generally permitted to go, if their guardians consent to the excursion. However, it is a point I wished to speak with you about.'

Harry felt his heart sink a little. He knew where this was headed.

'You don't want me to go,' he said, bluntly. He could read the answer in the headmaster's expression.

'It is not that, exactly,' Albus said carefully. 'You will be permitted in the village with Minerva or myself, but neither of us feels comfortable with you there on your own.'

'Because of Black,' Harry clarified, barely able to keep the annoyance in check. He knew he was being unreasonable; knew that Dumbledore and McGonagall were trying to look out for him… but he would be the only third year refused permission, and this was the second time in as many days that Dumbledore was basically telling him he was too young to make the decision.

'It isn't forever, Harry,' Albus assured him, apparently reading the hesitation. 'It is only –'

'But I'll be the only one left behind,' Harry pointed out. 'Everyone else in my year will be running around Hogsmeade, and I'll be stuck at the castle on my own. People will think I'm too scared to go!'

'What the other insipid little brats think is hardly the point,' Snape cut in before the headmaster could answer. 'You have already proven that you can't go ten minutes on your own before –'

'What happened in Edinburgh wasn't my fault!' said Harry, nettled. He'd forgotten, for a blissful moment, that the Potions professor was there. The harsh reminder was both an annoyance and a slight embarrassment. 'And I've told you, it wasn't Sirius Black who –'

'It might not have been him,' Minerva said, frowning almost as sternly as Snape, 'But whoever it was could have killed you that night, Harry. You nearly died as it was. And we cannot take that risk again. You are too –'

'Too what?' Harry challenged angrily. 'Too young? All my friends will be going, and they'll all be my age!'

'Too reckless, you impertinent child!' Snape spat.

'That wasn't what I –' Minerva started, but Harry felt his blood begin to boil.

'I'm not reckless!' Harry disagreed. He was nearly shouting now. 'And I told you – it wasn't my fault what happened in Edinburgh! How was I supposed to know someone would try and impersonate you?'

'It was your fault that you ran off after Black the day he was seen in the grounds!' Snape pointed out, his voice far more dangerous.

'Don't let's reopen that discussion, Severus,' Dumbledore said firmly. 'And Harry, this isn't about punishing you in the slightest. But Minerva is right. You are too young to –'

'To what?' Harry interrupted again, crossing his arms. 'The other students in my form –'

'Do not have the same burden on their shoulders,' the headmaster said gently. 'Sirius Black does not pose the same threat to your friends that he does to you. You know that.'

Harry ran a hand through his hair in frustration, though he suspected this only made the unruly mop more untidy. For some reason, McGonagall's eyes softened slightly as she watched him.

'Stop acting like a petulant toddler!' Snape snapped with even more rancour.

'You're not in charge of me,' Harry pointed out, scowling at Snape. 'This isn't about potions or wandless magic or sneaking around at night or Malfoy or any of the other things you get to shout at me about! It's none of your –'

'That is enough,' said Dumbledore firmly. 'Severus, perhaps you would allow us a moment.'

The Potions professor pushed back from the table without a word, still glaring at Harry as he swept from the room. Harry did not regret his cheek, even though he suspected he would pay for it in his lessons with Snape tomorrow.

'Harry, we are only trying to keep you safe,' the headmaster said seriously, as the door banged shut behind the Potions master. 'I will take you into the village myself throughout term, but sending you on your own is far too unnecessary a risk. Especially now that we are sure Sirius Black is in the area, and particularly after the events of the past few weeks. Neither you nor your friends know enough yet to defend yourselves if you should find yourselves facing Sirius Black on your own. I know you are intelligent enough to see the sense in this.'

Harry ground his teeth together. 'I understand, sir,' he said grudgingly. 'But I still don't think it's fair.'

'Good morning!' a new voice called brightly from the doors to the Hall. Harry, Minerva and Albus all turned in surprise to see Remus. His smile became a bit fixed as he read the tension in their faces.

'So…' Remus said, with the air of one defusing a bomb, 'What did I miss?'

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'And they all think I'm completely incapable of anything!' Harry continued to rant, pacing back and forth in front of Remus' hearth a half an hour later.

'Dumbledore is keeping secrets from me, and not even bothering to pretend he isn't keeping secrets from me. McGonagall thinks I'm going to keel over if I put a toe outside the castle without her minding me. And Snape – where does he get off, telling me what to do? That I'm reckless or –'

Remus had – wisely in his own humble opinion – removed Harry from the Great Hall to his own quarters for a time, under the guise of showing him the delivery of imps he'd taken that morning for his incoming first and second years. He could sense the boy's simmering temper from the moment of his arrival. Sure enough, Harry had lasted about three minutes in neutrality while considering the magical creatures, before the explosion ignited at last.

'I think Severus is right, Harry,' Remus interrupted seriously. Harry gaped at him, looking thoroughly betrayed, but Remus held up a hand to forestall the argument. 'Not that you are reckless, precisely,' he clarified. 'But Severus, and Albus and Minerva, were really all saying the same thing, in their own ways. You are very young still, and you are in grave danger at the moment. It would not be safe for you to wander the village without close supervision while Sirius Black remains at large.'

'I wish everyone would stop saying that!' Harry ranted, tugging at his hair.

'But it is true, Harry,' Remus said, as gently as he could. 'And it is not a criticism. You are thirteen. You are not supposed to agree with everything that those responsible for your wellbeing think is right for you. And you are certainly not expected to be able to make the adult decisions for yourself.'

'Why?' Harry challenged, crossing his arms and glaring at Remus. 'I always did before. Until I came to Hogwarts, no one make the "adult decisions"' – he air-quoted the term – 'For me. I made sure I got my work done. I made sure I brushed my teeth and got dressed in the morning. I did the cooking and the cleaning. If I got ill or hurt, I did what I could do to make myself better. I decided what streets were safe to walk home from school. And I wasn't even eleven yet.'

'That is not how it is supposed to be, Harry,' Remus said softly. 'You know that. Not for any child, and certainly not for you.'

'Yes, but it is how it was,' Harry insisted stubbornly. 'And I did alright.'

'Things are different now,' Remus said. 'As they should be. You do not have to take care of yourself in everything anymore; no more than any child of your age should have to. Let others worry about the big decisions, Harry. You are meant to be living your life.'

'And how am I supposed to be "living my life" when everyone wants to keep me locked in the castle? Besides, that's what everyone says,' Harry shot back angrily. 'Albus, Minerva, you… Live your life, Harry. Don't think about the past, Harry. Be in the present. And don't worry about the difficult questions – let the adults handle it. You're too young and too stupid to –'

'Nobody thinks you are stupid,' Remus disagreed. 'They think you are thirteen, and you are. I knew your father at thirteen, Harry. He was my best friend, and as we grew older I trusted his judgment and his advice more than I trusted nearly anyone else's. But if you think I would have thought him capable of making all the right choices at thirteen years old, you are sorely mistaken. Everyone tests the limits at your age; you are meant to do so. Albus and Minerva are just taking the precautions necessary to protect you. And I can promise you this: if Lily and James were alive today, you would not be receiving permission to go into the village from them, either.'

Harry flung himself onto the sofa, arms still crossed in temper. Remus sighed.

'What it comes down to, Harry, is that none of us – myself, Albus, Minerva, even Snape – want anything to happen to you.'

When Harry still looked mutinous, Remus tried a different approach. 'Let me ask you something,' he said, seating himself down on the sofa as well. 'Do you think that the headmaster loves you?'

Harry chewed his lip for a moment, before finally dropping his arms. 'Yeah,' he admitted. 'He always says he does. But he doesn't trust me with the truth: not all of it, anyway. He thinks I'm not ready for it.'

Remus smiled in understanding, and unspoken agreement. 'Do you trust him, Harry? And can you trust that he is doing what he thinks is in your best interest?'

Harry gave a reluctant smile. 'Usually,' he admitted. 'But it doesn't mean I have to like what he's doing.'

'No,' Remus agreed. 'It does not.' Sensing a good time to end the heated conversation, he swirled his wand through the air to conjure a battered set of gobstones. 'Fancy a go?' he asked, as the board set itself on the low sitting room table. 'Your mother was a good player, if my memory serves correctly.'

'Yeah, alright,' Harry consented, sitting up from his slump against the cushions. 'I don't play all that often though, I'll warn you.'

'Then perhaps I shall stand a fighting chance,' Remus said with a smile. Harry grinned.

They played in companionable silence for a time, until Remus made a poor decision that resulted in pungent goo dripping from his eyebrows. Harry laughed as he tossed him a tea towel.

'You should have asked me why I don't play that often,' he teased, smirking as Remus made to scrub off his face.

'And why would that be?' the professor asked.

'Minerva doesn't usually let me,' Harry said with a shrug. 'Because every time we do, the headmaster's beard turns out a lot like your face.'

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Harry's bitterness over the Hogsmeade restriction had, luckily, worn itself out by Tuesday afternoon. He'd had an easier few days than he'd had all summer in terms of lessons. Potions on Monday went shockingly without incident, and Remus had him working on duelling rather than Dementors Monday afternoon. Harry suspected that Remus did not want to risk exposing him to more horrifying memories, though he'd only remarked that he thought they could use a change of pace. Normally, the gesture might have irritated him; but Harry was more hesitant than he cared to admit to relive the experiences of the week-end again just yet, so he welcomed the alteration enthusiastically. Snape had restricted him from wandless casting for the week after the events in Edinburgh as well, so Harry had a free morning on Tuesday. Minerva – perhaps making up for Harry's disappointment over the Hogsmeade permission form – offered to take him onto the pitch, and he spent a few glorious hours with the wind in his face as he sped after his practise snitch.

Harry headed up to the headmaster's office after lunch in a much-improved mood. He was quite excited for a lesson with Dumbledore, not least because they had been few and far between with the hectic and unpredictable nature of this summer holiday.

'Do you remember our discussion of Merlin and Nimue at the beginning of the holiday?' Albus asked, as they settled into armchairs in the sitting area.

Harry nodded. 'You said we were going to talk about the whole story later,' he observed, looking eager. 'Is that what we're going to talk about?'

'Indeed,' Albus agreed. His eyes were twinkling. 'You remember, I take it, that Merlin came to the wood to do research concerning druid magic.'

'Why druid magic?' Harry asked curiously. 'He'd already finished at Hogwarts, hadn't he? Wouldn't they have covered everything he needed to know in his time at school, if he was here seven years?'

Dumbledore chuckled lightly. 'Sometimes, I forget just how young you are,' he said.

Harry scowled, which only made the headmaster laugh again.

'Do not take that the wrong way, my dear child,' he reassured him. 'But you will find, as you grow older, that you are never truly done learning in your lifetime – and certainly not when you leave school. This world, Muggle or Wizard, is never done revealing her secrets. And those who believe they are fully enlightened are usually more ignorant than most.'

Harry raised an eyebrow. He did not care what Dumbledore claimed… to Harry, even when he disagreed with his reasoning, the headmaster was all but omniscient. And certainly, if Dumbledore did not know the answer, then the question had no answer.

The headmaster seemed to guess what Harry was thinking.

'I have been on this earth for well over a hundred years,' he told him seriously. 'And yet, I would never dream to assume I have even scratched the surface of universal knowledge.'

Harry wanted to argue the point, but he didn't see the use. The headmaster cleared his throat, refilling their tea cups before he continued.

'In any event,' he went on, 'Magical knowledge is never constant. Each successive generation adds to the wealth of wizarding tradition and skill while – sadly – other secrets are lost with the passage of time. Different wizarding populations have taken different steps to rectify the problem of handing our magical knowledge down, as intact as possible, to the next generation. At Hogwarts, we have tried over the years to standardise Magic to some degree with the delineation of our education system into the seven forms; seven being the most powerful magical number according to tradition. But it was not always this way. In Merlin's time, Hogwarts was far less structured. Students were Sorted – at that time by the Four Founders themselves – and educated largely by the founder who chose them, with perhaps some input from the other three mages. Students were not necessarily admitted to the school at the age of eleven. It was a time when, as you know, magic was intermingled with Muggle society, and Hogwarts was not hidden as she is now. Instead, Wizarding and Muggle families alike would bring their children to be educated when their magical ability manifested; or else the Founders would find and admit talented students of many differing ages. Erasing Hogwarts' existence from the pages of Muggle history and the minds of Muggle society was one of the most onerous tasks of the Statute of Secrecy commission.

'Once students arrived at Hogwarts, they were not separated into traditional forms. There were far less students in those early days, and lessons were taught at mixed levels and ages. Students did much of their studies individually, and there were no standardised examinations like we insist upon in modern times. Students advanced at their own pace, and left the school as they achieved their desired level of excellence. For some pupils, that could mean just a few years of study. For others, like Merlin, they chose to stay at the school for more than a decade. More advanced students would often apprentice to the Founder of their House, or to another celebrated wizard.'

'You said Morgana tried to apprentice to Merlin,' Harry noted, remembering their last conversation on the subject.

Dumbledore inclined his head. 'And so she did,' he confirmed. 'Merlin refused her request: a slight which Morgana never forgave. Merlin himself, however, apprenticed to Salazar Slytherin.'

'Slytherin?' Harry repeated, with no small amount of distaste.

'Indeed,' said Albus, smiling again. 'Merlin was of Slytherin's House.'

'No way,' said Harry disbelievingly. 'You told me he was an early champion of Muggle rights! How could a student like that be a Slytherin? Slytherin left Hogwarts over Muggle-born students' admission!'

'He did,' Dumbledore agreed. 'In fact, the Order of Merlin was originally founded as a Muggle Rights organisation. It was only after the 1700s that it morphed into the achievement award it has become in modern times. But the conflict between Slytherin and Gryffindor occurred after Merlin had left the school. It was, according to history, a strong point of dissention between master and pupil, but not every member of Slytherin House opposed Muggle-rights in Merlin's time, just as most Slytherins do not oppose them nowadays. Salazar Slytherin was, as we have discussed before, a highly accomplished and celebrated wizard in his own right, whatever his faults. He had much to offer the school and his students, and Merlin learned a great deal under his tutelage, even though Merlin himself was a half-blood wizard.'

'A half-blood?' Harry asked in surprise. 'Slytherin chose a half-blood wizard for his own House?'

'Yes,' Albus said. 'Do you know the Muggle version of how Merlin came to be born?'

Harry tried to remember. 'Sort of…' he said hesitantly. 'I think there's demonic magic involved, isn't there?'

The headmaster nodded. 'More or less,' he said with a shrug. 'Accounts vary, but the popular version of the legend suggests that Merlin was born to an ordinary woman, impregnated by a demon – not the magical creature category as we know to be in existence in our own world, but the sort of demon commonly villainised in Christianity. It is said that his many powers were only saved for goodness because his mother had him baptised immediately after birth. Magical sources, naturally, suggest a slightly different story. Merlin's father remains unknown, even to this day, but he is said to have been a wizard who had an affair with a young Muggle woman, during which Merlin was conceived. Why the father left or what happened to him, I do not know. Merlin's magical gifts were strong, and evident from quite a young age. He grew up in a small English village not far from what today is Upper Flagley, where he was discovered by Godric Gryffindor at the age of nine and brought to the castle to be trained. All four of the Founders were interested in teaching him, as he was bright, ambitious and highly talented. In the end, it was Salazar Slytherin who won the contest.'

Harry frowned, but he did not interrupt again.

'In any event,' the headmaster continued, 'Merlin spent more than ten years at Hogwarts. He became greatly skilled in the magical arts, particularly in Potions and Charms. He was an accomplished animagus and, of course, he also had the Sight. His work and research was renowned even before he left the school.'

'An Animagus?' Harry cut in, interested. 'What did he turn into? I remember that stories they told us in primary school often had Merlin changing into different human forms, but I don't remember any animals.'

'An enormous stag, with a white fore-foot,' Albus answered with a smile. 'It is rumoured, in fact, that Merlin's stag was the form of Nimue's patronus, for she drew on his love for its creation. Muggle tales of Merlin in this country do not usually mention animal transformation, it is true. But there is a French version, Le Livre d'Artus, which claims that Merlin appeared before Julius Caesar as a stag with a white foot. The story is mostly fabrication, of course, not least because it would assume Merlin visited Rome more than a thousand years before his own birth. But then, Merlin is also rumoured to be the father of time travel, and thus I suppose it could in fact be true, at least in part.'

Harry's head was threatening a migraine as he tried to wrap it around the fifty questions the influx of information had birthed. Apparently the headmaster could sense the limits of his comprehension, for he smiled again.

'I do apologise,' he said gently. 'I do not mean to muse aloud and we are drifting, I fear, from the intended purpose of this lesson.'

'What is that again, sir?' asked Harry, only half-joking.

'The nature of Magic,' the headmaster clarified. 'As I say, Merlin left Hogwarts highly accomplished. He also left with a theory. It was Merlin's belief that this world exists in balance – the good and the evil, the light and the dark, the fire and the ice. You have heard it before, I'm sure. The idea of duality is ever-present in both Muggle and Wizard philosophy, and it was not a new phenomenon to Merlin's generation either. Merlin's theory was rather more of a tangible application. He believed that Magic was a natural force – an element, much as fire, water, earth and air are often considered the four elements of the world. There are many who believe that the four elements balance each other. But the more common theory, particularly among wizards, is that the elements are paired: water balances fire, while earth balances air – the heat and the cool, the grounded and the ethereal. You understand?'

'Er – yes,' Harry lied.

'Many believed,' Dumbledore continued, 'That Magic was the fifth element. But there could not be five, you see, because five does not balance. And so Merlin deduced that there must logically be a sixth element. His approach was to divide Magic into two forms: Light Magic and Dark Magic.'

Harry frowned again. 'But… that doesn't make sense,' he muttered. The headmaster's eyes twinkled.

'How so?' he asked encouragingly.

'Well, you've told me before that Magic isn't really light and dark,' he pointed out. 'You said it's the intention of the caster, not the magic itself, that's either evil or good.'

The headmaster smiled. 'Perfectly true,' he said with a nod. 'In most cases, the nature of magic itself is not inherently evil. Just as the other four elements can rarely be perfectly separated. For example, without air, fire cannot breathe or spread. It is difficult to draw a firm line between any two elements, let alone among six. I would personally proffer that magic itself exists within all the others. Even taking Merlin's theory to be true, there are few forms of purely light magic and purely dark. Most is variable in nature. And yet, we know that there are forms of Light Magic – love magic – that is more powerful and more pure than any other. Forms of magic that cannot be cast with a modicum of darkness. And thus Merlin deduced – not incorrectly – that the opposite must also be true. He believed that only pure Light magic could counter the purely Dark, just as Fire counters Water and Earth counters Air. His research into the theory was his life's work, and what led him to the Druids and to Nimue.'

'Why the druids?' Harry asked.

'Because of the nature of druid magic,' Dumbledore explained. 'Druids work with natural magic, which by its very essence involves tuning to the balance of the universe. He believed that if there was a way to isolate and study the core of Light and Dark Magic, then natural magic was the key to discovering it. He had spent many years working on his own before he sought out the clan to which Nimue belonged, immersing himself in the theoretical, the practical and the unbelievable. He made great advancements in Runic Magic, in Charms, in Potions… but he never achieved the ultimate solution to magical balance that he so desperately sought. By the time he arrived in the forest, he was nearly driven mad with the need for an answer. But when he finally reached the druid clan, he was stalled by a new fear.'

'A fear of what?'

'A fear of himself,' the headmaster said. 'Merlin sought counsel with the druid elders upon his arrival. As you know from our previous discussion, druids were not forthcoming with their magical secrets, particularly to outsiders. Merlin had to spend many years with the clan before he could earn their trust, even after he was married to one of their own. But at the conclusion of this first meeting, the oldest of the women in the circle approached him. She was wizened and blind, in the physical sense, and Merlin was forced to bend quite low to allow her to touch his face as she spoke in his mind.'

'In his mind?' Harry repeated. 'What do you –'

'It is possible,' Dumbledore explained, 'For two highly accomplished legilimens to speak "mental messages" – for lack of a more adequate descriptor. Among wizards who know each other well – Professor Snape and myself, for instance – it is sometimes possible to do so without physical contact, as long as eye-contact is intact. Even those who are not trained in Legilimency often find themselves capable of this to some extent, where the connection is between two close friends. Our eyes alone are often enough to convey straightforward requests without resorting to words.'

'Er… I guess so,' Harry said doubtfully. 'But then, how could the woman do Legilimency? If she was blind?'

'How exactly, I am not sure,' Dumbledore admitted. 'Though, when we lose an essential sense, it is not uncommon that our others intensify to compensate for the deficiency. Eye-contact is usually essential in Legilimency, but I suppose that physical contact might have been enough, if the druid woman had mastered projecting the necessary magic through another channel. In any event, Merlin was tutored by Salazar Slytherin himself, who was highly accomplished in the mind arts. He allowed the woman to speak to him in this way, as he was curious what she wanted to share without the others' knowledge. He hoped it would be information to help him in his search for answers.

'Instead, the woman delivered a warning. She told Merlin that ambition walks a dangerous line between innovation and catastrophe. She told him that talented, ambitious wizards are too often blinded by hubris to recognise which side of the line they are travelling, until they have already achieved one or the other. And she told him that if he were to discover what he sought, and find himself making the discovery for the wrong reasons, his ambition could bring the destruction of our world.'

Harry swallowed thickly, even though he knew the story did not have an apocalyptic ending.

'Merlin was disquieted with the witch's insight,' Albus continued. 'He had always considered this quest a noble one: a chance to advance magical and Muggle understanding. But now, he wondered if the woman was right; if he was only seeking this truth for personal glory. He began to wonder what he would do with the information – if he discovered the root of all goodness, or the root of all evil, in Magic. And he also began to worry what others would do, if new and powerful magics on either side became a possibility. His fear and self-doubt is what drove him, eventually, to the Mirror Pool where he ultimately met Nimue. He sought to drink from its waters in order to understand his own true nature. He wanted the reassurance that he was not following an evil temptation.'

'But he didn't drink from the Mirror Pool,' Harry pointed out in confusion. 'Nimue stopped him.'

'She did,' Albus agreed, twinkling over his spectacles at him.

'So… if he never drank the water, how did he get over his fears?' Harry asked. 'How could he be sure that he was doing the research for the right reasons – that he wasn't interested in Dark Magic because he wanted to conquer the world or something?'

'Because by not drinking the water, Merlin was ensuring that he did not go down the road to Evil. Just as it is not Light spells that make us wielders of Light Magic; it is not having the right answer that makes us do the right thing. That is the wisdom in what Nimue told Merlin that day. It is the journey to self-discovery, Harry, the constant battle to work for what is good and just, that keeps us on the right side of Magic. Balance between good and evil is not achieved with a cup of enchanted water or casting a spell; it is the work of a lifetime.'

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Review Responses, Chapter 20:

Guest (Chapter 19 reviewer): Thank you for your review! I apologise for not catching yours before posting Chapter 20 – it came in just as I was updating the instalment, and I didn't see it until after. But very glad you liked Chapter 19 and wonderful to hear you are enjoying the story overall and the character relationships. I hope you continue to like it as we move forward!

BlueWater5: Thank you for your review! I'm glad you liked how the Death Eater talk played out… hope you enjoy the continuation of the story.

LordTicky: Thank you for reviewing! I'm happy you liked the chapter and hope you will also enjoy how our story unfolds.

Valkyrie-Sythe: Thanks for your review! You're right – Harry definitely isn't as dense as Severus would prefer him… and then, denser in other respects. And of course, Severus doesn't exactly lie to him; but he very carefully gives only a partial answer to his query. I apologise for the waits between chapters, but I'll get them up as fast as I can :)!

Blue Luver5000: Thanks for reviewing! I'm very happy that you liked the chapter. Enjoy the next!

AECM: Thank you for reviewing! I hope you like the next instalment.

Lily love: Thank you for your review! Very glad you are enjoying the story and hope you'll like the next instalment.

Guest (Chapter 20): Thank you for reviewing! It's wonderful to hear that you are liking the story so much! I do apologise for the delay, but I hope that this chapter is worth it!

Guest (second Chapter 20 review): Thanks for reviewing and for your support! I hope the wait for the update was not too terrible, and that you enjoy the new chapter.

Anyeshabaner: Thank you for your review! Albus's reaction is included in this chapter – and he is not going to be happy (or wasn't happy, if you've read it already); protective Dumbledore is one of my favourites, so that should be fun as things move forward. Severus… ah, well, I stand by what I've been saying about him. Don't get me wrong, I love to write Severus's perspective; and I hope I've been able to keep true to his character by also allowing the readers to see more sides to him. However, this isn't going to be a Severitus or Sevitus-style fic; Severus's feelings toward Harry are a bit more complex – given how closely they've been living/working – and I think Snape is beginning to develop a tad more empathy, and at times perhaps respect, than he might have been able to show toward Harry in canon. That said, he isn't going to come to feel for him at the level that Albus, Minerva, Remus and Sirius do. Doesn't mean we can't love him, even if he doesn't love Harry! :) Personally, I think Snape's softer side is most visible in some of his interactions with the headmaster, who I think he does see as a mentor-figure in many ways, even when Albus is driving him mad.

As for Sirius and our favourite werewolf – they're back this chapter! I've been missing them too, but they didn't quite fit with the Edinburgh chapters. They both have POV sections here, and both involve their thoughts on Harry: so I hope you enjoy that. I'll keep updating as swifty as I can!

Psitomer: Thanks for reviewing (quick or not!)! I'm glad you liked the chapter. I won't comment on your prediction at this time… but you will find out who it was, eventually! And Ron; yes, sometimes he's a good strategist… and other times he's just completely bull-in-a-china-shop. Also, very glad you liked the Harry-Snape conversations and Snape's reactions (I definitely thought of you when I wrote the line about playing nursemaid, haha). I had a lot of fun writing their back and forth this chapter; particularly the bit where Harry is trying so hard to get round taking the last potion… Although, I must say my personal favourite for Severus lines of Chapter 20 is the one where he informs Ron that when he speaks he lowers the intelligence of the room. Harry is a bit slow on the Sirius front… but then, it's so much easier for us (who obviously know from canon what the situation is and also have been seeing Sirius's POV) than for Harry, Albus, or our other characters who know only what seems so certain. And he definitely plays a little fast and loose with exactly what role he has played (only answering as to the present, omitting the past).

Best to you as well – and see you next chapter!

Babascoop: Thank you for your review! Not telling on who the kidnapper is… but I think you've done a great analysis in your review. I would point out, however, that 'male' is not necessarily in the criteria: since the person was Polyjuice disguised and Harry didn't see him/her make the full transition back, it is theoretically possible that the culprit was female, as long as that female is shorter than Snape and has lighter hair. Or, might be male. :) Absolutely true that, once again, Harry survives the day because his would-be killer likes to play games instead of doing the deed: some people never learn!

Snape and truth? Very rare combination. Half-truths? Maybe. I think he truly believes what he said to Harry in that scene… that trust is a very dangerous gift. He rants at Albus all the time for keeping secrets; and yet Snape keeps more secrets than all the rest combined. Sirius is rather the opposite, so it should definitely be an interesting dynamic once he has a true part to play in Harry's life and upbringing… if he has a chance to play, that is.

In Part I, we got to see a bit more of Ron in light-hearted scenes. Here, I'm in agreement – he's quite stubborn and hot-headed. Of course, that is Ron in his anti-Snape mode, which we certainly saw a lot of in canon… but he won't always be that way. I do have a bit of a soft spot for him, whatever his faults. And Hermione: I just absolutely love her :)

Yes, pairings do seem to be coming up quite a lot lately in reviews… but I am in agreement with you here: I don't intend to pair Harry for sometime yet, whatever direction that ends up heading. I think he's still a bit too young. And I doubt we'll have just one pairing, when it comes to it. But I really appreciate the vote of confidence! Hopefully everyone will enjoy the experience when Harry does finally get into some sort of relationship.

TL-Deception: Thank you for your review and continued support! I do hope you enjoy Albus's bit here… things are definitely heating up!

Lady Beaumort: Thank you for reviewing again! I'm glad you are liking the story and hope you'll enjoy this instalment.

Estel Ashlee Snape: Thank you for reviewing! Glad you were able to catch up :), and thank you for your well wishes! I am quite excited, and a little nervous… congratulations on your new baby as well! Poor Severus… the quidditch match with three Gryffindor teams must have been torture, haha. I hope you like the new chapter!

The Lord of Voldemort of Rivia: Thank you for your great review! I'm glad you are liking the series thus far. As to shipping… nothing definite at this point, but I do note that many of the reviewers have expressed preferences and concerns :). I hope, when we get to that development, the readers will enjoy where the story goes! In any case, I hope you enjoy this update!

MoonshineMadame: Thank you for reviewing! I'm very happy to hear you are liking the story, and hope you also enjoy the update. This chapter includes a good deal of the fall-out from Edinburgh, but I do promise we'll get additional Minerva-POV sections in coming chapters, especially as we head into the beginning of Harry's third year!