A/N I dislike short chapters, so the last one made me cringe a bit, but I felt the ending was just to good to pass up. As my way of apology, I give you the next chapter, much longer by the way, only a day later. Please send feedback in the form of a review.
A/N 2.0 I attempted to upload this on 2/15 and did not see any problems from my end. However within thirty minutes of publishing the chapter I was unable to log back into the site; it appears they had some technical problems. I assume that this is the reason that all of you who are subscribed received an alert but could find no chapter. I apologize for the confusion, and hopefully this time the chapter will upload without incident.
Snape's cold dark eyes stared down at them, his long hooked nose flaring with disdain.
"I believe that will be ten points each from Gryffindor for your tardiness."
"We have a note," Harry practically growled, using every ounce of self control he possessed to keep his flaring temper under control as he held up the missive from Madame Pomfrey. Snape glanced at it as if he were being handed a particularly disgusting bug before he snatched it from Harry's hand.
"Yes…so I see," he said disinterestedly as he shoved the note into the front pocket of his robes without so much as a glance. "Take your seats, I do not have all day."
Both of them shuffled past him into the silent classroom and into the desks that Hermione had saved for them near the back row. Ron was grumbling quietly under his breath, but Harry kept his mouth firmly shut, his lips pressing together so tightly that they turned white from lack of blood. He was furious at Snape, but even more so towards Dumbledore for not warning him ahead of time.
"As I was saying before I was interrupted by our new resident celebrities, who are apparently too good to go to class with the rest of you," Snape said disdainfully, "this is the beginning of your NEWT year. The Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests are named so for a reason, and while some of you," he gave a small but noticeable look in Malfoy's direction, "I am sure will pass with flying colors, there are others that I question how they even managed to pass their OWLs." This time he did not even attempt to keep his gaze neutral; he stared directly at Neville, who started to cringe as if out of reflex before he seemed to catch himself, straightening in his seat and staring the greasy haired Potion Master dead in the eyes. Snape held the boy's gaze for several long, tense seconds before turning his attention back to the others.
"If I am not mistaken, this class has absolutely no experience with the casting of non-verbal spells. Today I will remedy that, as non-verbal spells are one of the most basic things that you will be tested on during your exams. But perhaps before you begin, a small demonstration is in order?" Harry growled softly before reluctantly climbing to his feet. He knew exactly who Snape would be selecting, and he didn't see the point in drawing things out any further by playing along with the other man's little game. "Ah, Mr. Potter," Snape intoned, a look of glee barely masked by his usually sneer, "how wonderful for our resident Dark Arts 'expert' to volunteer." Harry did not bother with a response as he trudged forward to stand across from Snape, just in front of the first row of desks.
"The rules are simply Mr. Potter, we shall take it in turns casting spells at one another. As the attacker you may use any non-lethal spell you see fit, but the spell must be cast without speaking. As the defender you will use only the basic Protego charm, which must be cast in equal silence. I shall be attacking first. Understood?"
"Wait," Harry responded, his brow furrowed, "you haven't explained how to-" Snape gave Harry no time to complete his question as he raised his wand and fired a small red bolt from the tip. Harry immediately raised his own wand to intercept, shouting Protego in his mind. The tiny bolt of magic flew right past his outstretched wand and hit him dead center in his chest. His hand flew to the spot, a small hiss escaping him as his body registered the burning pain he now recognized as a fairly powerful stinging hex. Snape's face was as close to a smile as Harry had ever seen.
"Well, so much for the vaunted Chosen One." The Slytherins were all chuckling as Harry glared daggers at their Head of House.
"You didn't tell me how I was supposed to do it…sir."
"Would you like me to hold your hand while you learn Mr. Potter?" Snape sneered disgustedly. "An enemy would not coddle you while you try to cast your spell, and neither will I."
"Well sir, while I know it seems to be your usual teaching method, I cannot do something I've never done before if you don't tell me how!"
"Twenty points from Gryiffindor for your attitude Potter," Snape snarled. "The wand movements are no different from how you normally cast the spell. The difference is in your mind. The casting requires a certain amount of mental discipline and focus, which I know you are in short supply of, but do try a little harder next time."
Harry was nearly seeing red he was so angry, but he battered down his temper once more and tried instead to focus on Snape's directions, or at least what little he had given. Without warning he flung his wand hand toward Snape, shouting Stupefy in his head. Nothing happened. The Slytherins were nearly rolling out of their chairs with laughter now as Harry stood with wand pointed at their Professor in dramatic fashion. Snape merely raised an eyebrow.
"Is that really the best that you can do Mr. Potter? I truly expected more out of someone who single handedly saved the entire Hogwart's Express from destruction. Are you sure that's what really happened?" Harry was nearly trembling with rage at this point, but he still refused to give in, pressing down on his temper with everything that he had. "Well I suppose we really should give you one more chance to prove yourself. En Garde!"
Even with his slow reaction due to the seething anger he was trying desperately to control he was still able to raise his wand in time, and once again shouted the incantation in his mind. He thought he felt a slight pressure in his hand and thought it might actually work this time, but then felt the stinging bite of Snape's hex in his leg and lost his concentration, falling to one knee at the intense burning sensation he felt.
"Again? Such a shame. Perhaps you should consider that you are simply not cut out for this class Mr. Potter. As I said, this theory and in fact this entire course requires a mental discipline that you clearly lack." The Potion Master stalked closer, looking even more bat-like than usual as he swooped down upon the still kneeling Harry, lowering his voice till only the two of them could hear. "I hope now you see the folly of your ways Mr. Potter. Your lucky streak when it comes to surviving encounters with the Dark Lord seems to have left you with a mistaken impression that you are somehow better at defending yourself in a duel than fully trained Aurors and Death Eaters. You are not. Stop seeking out trouble Potter, before it catches up to you or your friends the way it did to dear Sirius."
Harry was already trembling with anger as Snape spoke, but at the mention of his dead godfather, Harry finally snapped. Even as Snape whirled away, his black cloak flashing out behind him as he stalked back across the classroom, Harry stood, his face a mask of pure rage. He raised his wand and pointed it straight at the retreating Snape's back, his hand steady despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins. The rest of the world seemed to lose focus for Harry, but he assumed that the Slytherins must have screamed a warning because Snape whirled suddenly, his eyes wide and alert. Harry felt the power welling up inside of him; felt his magic more acutely than he ever had before. Before he even said the words in his mind, he knew that the spell would not fail this time. Expelliarmus! A bright blue jet of light flew from the tip of his wand with unbelievable speed, looking like a jagged bolt of lightning as it crossed the distance between himself and Snape in a blink of an eye.
Whatever else one could say about Severus Snape, he was no slouch in a duel. And after several years of falling victim to the pranks of the Marauders he had become very adept at defending himself from unexpected attacks. Even before Harry's spell left his wand Snape was reacting instinctively, throwing up the most powerful shield he could cast and enshrouding himself completely inside a sphere of protection. Harry's azure bolt slammed into that sphere with the power of a cannon. Snape's eyes widened as he felt the instant drain on his magic as it tried to keep the powerful spell from penetrating. To the Potion Master's credit, the spell never did crack his shield. Unfortunately for him though, his shield was not immune to the laws of physics.
As the powerful projectile impacted the shield it sought to penetrate it, but it also transferred a massive amount of kinetic energy. Snape, still safely ensconced inside of his shield, was thrown backwards as if he had been hurled by a giant and slammed into the classroom's far wall with bone crunching force, passing straight through the thick stone wall as if it were paper. The spell finally flickered and faded to nothing, its strength spent, but it meant very little to the hapless Snape, who fell heavily onto the polished stone floor and continued to slide, his shield depleted and his momentum carrying him into the far wall with a sickening thud. Harry stared in disbelief at the now unconscious professor through the rather large hole left in the classroom wall, horrified to see a steady trickle of blood flowing from the man's open mouth.
Instant pandemonium broke out. Most of the Gryffindor students found themselves hard pressed to contain snorts of amusement at seeing the teacher who had tormented them all for years finally be taken down a peg. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs who had managed to make it into the NEWT class however were all screaming in horror, aghast that a student had just attacked a teacher and, from their perspective, probably killed him. While Snape had always played favorites with Slytherin, his true animosity had always been towards Gryffindor and so the other houses could not understand why the Griffindors seemed to be laughing at the situation. The Slytherins of course were incensed, shouting at the top of their lungs that Potter had gone mad, and that they should all rush him before he killed anyone else. Of course, the ever pragmatic Slytherins showed no interest in being the first to lead such a charge. In fact of the handful of Slytherins in the class, all of them but Malfoy were steadily creeping back towards the far wall as they shouted, seemingly intent on putting as much distance as possible between themselves and Harry in case he decided it was time to settle any other old scores.
Harry heard none of it. He stood frozen in place as his mind struggled to catch up to what his body had just done. Dimly, in a small corner of his mind he was aware of Hermione, a calm in the storm of shouting voices, using a silencing spell to bring order to the room before she sent Neville off to fetch Professor McGonagall. A few minutes of tense silence passed, the angry Slytherins desperately trying to remove her spell, until Neville returned, a wide-eyed McGonagall in tow. She must have sent a message to Madame Pomfrey as soon as Neville had found her, because not a minute later the winded healer rounded the corner at a full sprint, wand at the ready. She immediately went to work, waving her wand over the unconscious potions master in a complicated pattern while simultaneously pulling a number of small vials from the pouch at her waist. It wasn't until Snape had been stabilized and Madame Pomfrey had levitated him away towards the hospital wing that the Deputy Headmistress entered the room, her usually stern face looking especially grim.
"It was Potter Professor," Draco Malfoy shouted as soon as she had lifted Hermione's spell, "he-".
"Thank you Mr. Malfoy," she said, cutting him off with a look. "Mr. Longbottom has already apprised me of the situation."
"But Professor…" Malfoy whined.
"That is enough Mr. Malfoy. All of you are excused. Please return to your dormitories until dinner begins. Reluctantly the students collected their belonging and shuffled slowly out the door, the Slytherins grumbling darkly about her letting Potter off while the rest seemed mostly concerned with overhearing the conversation that was sure to come, hoping to collect a bit of juicy gossip for the dinner tables tonight. Not that they needed any more; today's events would have the Hogwarts rumor mill abuzz for weeks to come. Ron, Neville and Hermione were last to leave, standing quietly in the doorway with the most pleading looks they could muster, but their Head of House would have none of it and shooed them sternly but gently into the corridor before she finally spoke to Harry.
"Mr. Potter," she asked softly. Harry did not respond, and in fact did not even seem to recognize that she had spoken. She reached out a hand tentatively to his shoulder, though she kept her wand firmly gripped in her other hand as she was unsure of how he would react to such contact. "Harry," she whispered. He jumped as if electrocuted and turned, meeting her eyes and she could see from the genuine shock playing out across his face that he had not been aware of anything that had been happening around him for the better part of ten minutes.
"Professor, I swear I didn't mean to," he insisted, his words coming out in an almost unintelligible rush. "I didn't even want to be up here, but he made me demonstrate something for the class, but then he wouldn't even tell me how to do what he was asking. He just kept hexing me and making fun of me for not being able to do it right, and…I don't know what happened, honestly. I just got so angry I tried to cast the spell without speaking again and it worked that time and it hit Snape and…" He paused momentarily, shaking his head. "All I used was the disarming spell, I swear. I don't know how this happened." He seemed so genuinely confused and upset that McGonagall had a hard time not simply taking him at his word and sending him back to his friends in their common room to calm down, but she knew that wasn't an option at this point. A Hogwarts professor had been seriously injured by a student, and during a class in front of more than a dozen witnesses as well. The proper forms had to be followed.
"I do not believe that you would do this intentionally Mr. Potter," she said gently, trying to keep her tone as neutral as possible so as not to upset him further, "but this is out of my hands. We will go and speak with the Headmaster at once; if as you say this was nothing more than an accident, then you have nothing to worry about, alright?" Harry said nothing, but nodded halfheartedly and fell into step behind her as she exited the room, his head hung low.
"From what you have told me Mr. Potter, I am inclined to believe that this incident was nothing more than an unfortunate accident." Ablus Dumbledore found himself smiling at the sigh of relief that Harry let out as he slumped forward in his chair, rubbing his temples gingerly.
"Thank you sir."
"As I am sure you know however, I will have to speak with Professor Snape when he regains consciousness and hear his side of things." Harry looked back up at him, incredulous. "However I believe that there is a very simple way to clear this up without further escalation. If you will allow me to examine your wand, it will be a simple matter to determine the last spell it cast. If you did indeed use nothing more than a simple disarming charm, then there will be no way for anyone to suggest that this was anything more than an unfortunate accident."
Harry pulled his wand out from the pocket in his robes where he had stored it and held it across the desk without any hesitation. Even through his jumbled emotions, he could see that Dumbledore was trying to give him an ironclad defense from any ridiculous statements Snape might make about his actions. When he had first arrived in Dumbledore's office with Professor McGonagall, he had still barely been able to speak through his shock. But as Dumbledore had patiently coaxed his story out of him, Harry had felt himself growing angrier as he relieved the events of the afternoon. By this point, he was once more absolutely livid at Snape for his unprovoked insults and would do whatever it required to prove that he had not been the one who had started things.
Dumbledore took his wand and placed it on his desk before drawing his own, "Prior Incantato." A small puff of smoke drifted lazily from the end of Harry's wand before forming a strange shape that Harry did not recognize. "Well that settles that," Dumbledore said matter of factly before handing Harry his wand back. "In case you did not recognize it Mr. Potter, that was the runic symbol that represents the disarming charm. Can I assume Minerva that we can verify that Mr. Potter did not perform any other magic since the incident?" Professor McGonagall nodded.
"I believe so Albus. While I arrived some minutes after the incident occurred, Mr. Potter has certainly not performed any magic since my arrival on the scene. I will speak to a few of the students who were present this evening to confirm that Mr. Potter used no other spells until my arrival if that is acceptable?"
"Of course Minerva. Now, if you will excuse us I believe that Mr. Potter and I have a few other matters to discuss." She accepted the dismissal with a curt nod before she stood and turned to leave, patting Harry on the shoulder slightly as she left. The door was barely closed behind her before Dumbledore raised his wand once again, casting a series of locking and privacy spells and then turning his attention to Harry once again.
"My boy you do know how to find trouble, I will grant you that." Dumbledore opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a bottle and glass before pouring himself a handsome measure of dark brown liquid.
"More like it finds me sir," Harry snorted.
"Indeed. But we do seem to be seeing quite a bit of each other as of late. If you do not mind Harry, I would very much like to view the memory of this event personally."
Harry nodded in agreement as he stood and walked to the nearby table where the pensieve still sat, quickly performing the spell to remove the memory. His nose wrinkled in disgust as he once again realized just how much his own memories looked like silver bogies.
"Before you watch sir," Harry asked as he placed the silver liquid in the stone bowl, "can you tell me why you didn't inform me last night about Snape teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Harry's back was to turned, but Dumbledore did not mistake the distinct edge the boy's voice held.
"It is Professor Snape Harry, as you well know. As for your question, it sounds as if in his zeal to impart knowledge to your young minds, Severus may have neglected to mention one key fact."
"Which is?"
"That he is not in fact the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." Harry turned back to face him at this, his eyebrows wide in shock. "Professor Snape was merely filling in. Our Defense Professor was…unavoidably detained, and so several of the other teachers took it in turn to teach a class during their free period. I myself spent an hour this morning with our Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff first years." Harry was shocked, to say the least.
"But, he made it sound as if…who is teaching us then?"
"Alastor Moody."
"Mad-Eye? How on earth did you manage that? I wouldn't have thought he'd agree to come back here in a million years after what happened."
"Let us just say that I can be very persuasive. Now, if you will excuse me for a few minutes, I would like to view this memory." Dumbledore stood and walked to the pensieve before leaning in and disappearing from view. Harry returned to his chair at Dumbledore's desk waited for several long minutes before the Headmaster finally emerged again, a deep frown upon his face.
"Curious," he said as he walked back to his desk, "very curious."
"What's curious sir?"
"Tell me Harry," Dumbldore asked, ignoring the question, "did you perform quite a bit of accidental magic as a child?"
"Erm, I don't really know. I remember a few things, like somehow ending up on the school roof while trying to escape some bullies, and I always re-grew my hair every time my Aunt tried to cut it. Come to think of it I think I used magic quite a few times running from those bullies. I remember once they even ran right past me and I was sure I was caught but it was like they didn't see me. Oh, and I vanished the glass on a snake cage at the zoo once. That's when I first learned about the parseltounge."
"And today, in the classroom; tell me what happened when you cast your spell."
"Sir?"
"It was quite obvious that you were having no success with casting non-verbally Harry. That is unsurprising and certainly nothing to be ashamed about. There is a reason that this is taught at the NEWT level and not during your OWLS. However, you seemed to advance from being completely incapable to casting one of the most powerful disarming spells that I have ever seen in a matter of seconds. So tell me, what changed?"
"Honestly sir, I'm not sure," Harry said, struggling to reply. "I just remember getting so angry at what he said, it felt like I was being filled up with heat and if I didn't release it I was going to explode. I didn't even think about it really, it kind of just came out. Do…do you know what happened sir?" Dumbledore sat silently, sipping gingerly at his drink as he stared contemplatively at Harry.
"Indeed I do have a theory. I am sure you are aware that you are currently in the throes of what the muggles refer to as puberty?" Harry nodded and Dumbledore smiled widely. "Most excellent! I must say I did not relish the thought of having to explain to you the…erm…details. The point however is that while magical children undergo this same process, they also experience a magical version as well. Normally this is a very simple matter, often not even recognized by the child. The average student will gradually realize that aside from perhaps growing a few inches taller and feeling the need to shave, they also find casting spells they once found challenging to be much easier. Once the point of full magical maturity is reached however, the child will have reached the limits of their magical potential." Harry considered the Headmaster's words carefully before responding.
"So what you're saying is that every witch and wizard's magic becomes stronger when they're teenagers, but then it stops and never grows any stronger?"
"Precisely Harry," Dumbledore said, obviously pleased. "But keep in mind that when I say they have reached the limits of their potential, I speak only in regards to their raw magical power. One can always benefit from hard work and study. In fact some of the more demanding fields in our world such as the healers of St. Mungo's or the Auror Corps require several further years of advanced study even once you have left school."
"But what does this have to do with what happened? Why did you ask me about accidental magic before?"
"Ah yes, well if you will recall, I said that the average student will likely not even notice their newfound magical power. For others however…things are a little more complicated. I asked about you accidental magic because that is the first sign. An average wizard typically performs accidental magic only occasionally, even as a child, and they are typically very minor things. When a child shows repeated signs of accidental magic, especially when they accomplish something as extraordinary as rudimentary apparition as you did, it is almost always a sign of an extraordinarily powerful wizard. And naturally, when a rather powerful wizard comes into his maturity and his full power, there are bound to be some….hiccups."
"So that's what this was," Harry asked with a raised eyebrow, "a hiccup?" Dumbledore raised his glass to his lips and drained the remaining contents.
"To the best of my knowledge, yes. I am sure that over the next few weeks your body will adjust to the new level of magic that it now has access to and things will return to normal, but in the meantime we must make sure that no students or any other faculty are hurt." Dumbledore smiled sadly as Harry hung his head in shame. "Now Harry, there is no reason for you to be ashamed. This was an accident, and Professor Snape will, I am sure, make a full recovery in time. On another note, I had planned to broach this subject with you this weekend, but as circumstances have obviously changed we will speak now. As of tomorrow, you will be attending private tutoring sessions with Professor Moody." Harry's eyes nearly bugged out of his head.
"Sir, does this mean that you're going to- "
"Train you to defend yourself? Yes, that is precisely what I mean. Your disappearance this summer finally made me realize that as much as I might wish it, I cannot protect you forever. But I can at the very least help you learn to protect yourself. While your plea to me last night would have been more than sufficient in its own right, I had already intended to give you private instruction this year."
"But," Harry sputtered in response, "If you were going to do it already, why did you let me say all of that? Why didn't you just tell me?"
"I intended to this weekend, however when you asked me, I felt it prudent to hear your reasoning. This is no easy challenge I set before you Harry, Professor Moody is an excellent teacher when it comes to fighting the Dark Arts, but his mannerisms leave much to be desired. He will push you to your limits, that I can promise you. But if you are not fully committed, then you are doomed to fail before you begin. Please trust me when I say that I would not ask this of you if I felt that there were any other way." Harry's eyes were hard and his face a determined mask as he replied.
"I won't fail sir. I can't afford to." Dumbledore nodded solemnly.
"That is good to hear. In addition, you will not be permitted to use magic in your classes for the time being. Please understand," he said quickly, raising a hand to forestall the objection already forming in Harry's throat, "that this is only a temporary measure. We need to ensure that you are in complete control before you resume casting magic around other students. While Severus may have been resourceful enough to escape the full force of your spell…"
"A student might not be so lucky," Harry finished for him, nodding his head reluctantly. "I understand Professor." The Headmaster offered him a wide smile.
"Excellent Harry, excellent. And please, call me Albus. While I normally would not ask a student to speak to me so informally, these are far from normal times and you are far from a normal student. And as we will be seeing quite a bit of each other this year, I believe that we should dispense with the usual formalities."
"Erm…of course sir. I mean Albus."
"I'm sure it will grow on you Harry. Now, I believe that you have a quite a bit of homework to catch up on this evening. Your meeting with Professor Moody will take place tomorrow at six-thirty on the seventh floor, so you will need to eat dinner quickly."
"Seventh floor? The Room of Requirement?"
"The very same. Off you go now my boy, off you go."
Dumbledore waved his wand, dispelling the charms he had placed on the door. Harry stood and with a quick nod of farewell made for the door, somewhat confused by the abrupt dismissal but so happy that he was getting what he wanted that he simply didn't care. Dumbledore watched as he disappeared through the doorway and down the spiral stairs until the door automatically closed once more. His wand moved once again, recasting the protections he had just removed.
"Please have a seat Alastor."
A chameleon like figure detached itself from the far wall and moved forward with a clunking, heavy step. The effect slowly began to dissolve from the head down, revealing the scarred figure of Alastor Moody as he collapsed nonchalantly into the chair Harry had just vacated.
"A drink Alastor?"
"Why the hell did you just lie to the boy? And yes, I want a drink." Dumbledore retrieved another glass from his desk and filled it, passing it to the former Auror before he replied.
"I did not lie."
"Well you sure as hell didn't tell him the truth. You know dam well that this wasn't some growing pain or a result of his magical maturity. I haven't even seen the memory yet, but from what I've heard he blew Snape through the wall using nothing but a disarming charm. While also casting silently for the first time to boot."
"Temporary instability in one's magic has been known to occur in rare cases. I myself recall an incident in Tranfiguration in my sixth year. I was supposed to be turning a boulder into a dog, but instead it came out as a rather spectacular recreation of a hydra. It did not posses any of the magical properties of the beast of course, but it was rather fun teaching it to play fetch…"
"Albus…" Moody growled. Dumbledore paused for a moment before nodding in apology.
"I told Harry what I did because it was the closest explanation I can find for what seems to be happening. It is even possible that his maturity is indeed responsible." Moody laughed loudly; a deep, gravelly noise that sounded as if he had swallowed razor blades.
"Bullshit Albus. You know damn well that's not what's happening here. A strong wizard can experience fluctuations in power while his body adjusts to the new influx of magic, hell I experienced it just a little myself. But you saw what happened with his charms work, same as I did. I'll bet the same thing happened with Snape, didn't it."
Dumbledore hesitated, his lips pursed. As soon as Filius had reported unusual happenings in Harry's class Dumbledore had immediately retrieved and reviewed the Charm's professor's memory of the incident. He had watched as Harry had repeatedly attempted a simple cleaning charm, a spell any competent third year should have been able to perform without much trouble, without any success. Then when he had finally managed to cast the spell, it had not only obliterated the paper he had been attempting to clean, it had gouged a several centimeter deep crevice into the surface of the desk. He had allowed Alastor to view the memory himself, but the two had not even had time to discuss it before Minerva had led Harry into the room. And now with what they had learned about the incident in the Defense classroom, an isolated incident had now become a rather disturbing pattern.
"I knew it," Moody continued, not waiting for a response. "You know as well as I do that if the problem were his maturity then the spells might vary in power yes, but fail to work altogether? I've never heard of a documented case Dumbledore, have you?" Again Dumbledore did not respond. He didn't need to; they both knew that Moody was right. "Damn it Albus, something is happening to that boy."
"Telling him that I truly do not know the cause of these outbursts of magic would only worry and distract him Alastor. You agreed with me that his training was of the highest priority this summer when you agreed to take the post."
"Well how could I not after you drop that bombshell of a prophecy on me? Damnit I hate those things. Always liked to think that I made my own destiny. But going into this blind could be just as dangerous. What if he can't learn to control it?"
"I do believe," Dumbledore said while topping off his near empty glass, "that we run that risk regardless. I truly do not know what else this could be Alastor; for once I am as in the dark as you. But Harry must be trained; we must help prepare him for what is coming. Do you really want him to face this war unprepared, as you did all those years ago my old friend?" Moody reached a hand up, subconsciously running a finger over the eyelid protecting his magical eye.
"No," he whispered, "of course not."
"Then you must trust me my friend, it is better this way. I have known Mr. Potter and his friends since they started at this school, and if there is one thing they are known for it is tenacity. Put a mystery in front of them, especially Ms. Granger, and they will dig at it until they have an answer. For whatever reason, Mr. Potter has not been obsessing over the mystery of his disappearance this summer as I had expected. The last thing I wish to do is give him something else to obsess over instead." Moody seemed to want to argue the point further, but finally he just nodded in acceptance.
"Fine Albus, I'll trust your judgment on this. But my point about his magic still stands. It won't affect my plans much for the next few weeks at least, but what if he can't learn to control his spells?" Dumbledore downed the remainder of his drink in one smooth gulp.
"You just leave that to me."
