Albus Dumbledore was a well learned, well traveled man. In his own opinion, he was rather clever and proud of it. These charts and graphs that Poppy's personal house elf had compiled as the healer frantically tried to remove the wand shards and stem the bleeding were very thorough, and very curious at the same time. They explained every single question he had to the fullest. What was currently, if one would pardon the non-magical expression, 'driving him up the wall', as it were, was his own experiences more than eighty years ago, with precisely the same symptoms. The only glaring difference? Albus had been the ripe age of twenty two, going on to his twenty third summer. Albus conjured three cushy, purple armchairs that were over padded with nary a thought, nor gesture. Such, Albus thought, was what happened when you combined a powerful Transfiguration Master with over a century of experience, magical power that made other powerful wizards like Severus Snape flee as if afire, and the Elder Wand. That equation alone sometimes caused the Headmaster a sleepless night, trying to solve yet another problem Wizarding Britain had sown and reaped for itself. No more, he thought with a hint of anger. 'I have many wrongs to right, and I shall start as soon as I explain everything to Poppy.'
"Poppy? Here's Mr. Potter's problem. The wand in his hand channeled far too much power through its own core, and as such, released all the magical residue left by the spell, and its own innate magic. It reached out to young Harry's magic, finding a similar power to its own, seeing as the wand and wizard had bonded, tried to mesh with his. Voldemort's curse residue on Harry's scar impeded it, and caused this backlash, represented here, on this column. Harry won't be able to handle a wand until early July at the soonest, as his magic is too chaotic right now. Best case scenario has Mr. Potter forcing an early start to his magical maturity, with his magic settling down to a hair over hyper-sensitive. I had a very similar situation when I was a young man, and I shall teach Harry how to control his new powers myself. It's high time I mend what wrongs I have done to an innocent child. I will be taking his training to the level it should have been from nearly the start. I want him to be the very best he can be, Poppy, and with Lily and James being as talented as they were, I can envision an extremely talented young lad. I thank you for your services Madame, but I shall be taking it from here." Poppy beamed at Albus, and kissed the Headmaster on the cheek.
"Albus Dumbledore, that was the most sincere thing you've said in almost fifteen years." She turned and walked away, checking on Ron a few beds down. Albus was shaken out of his blushing shock when he heard Harry beginning to stir next to him. Hermione Granger had already dragged her armchair next to his bed, Fawkes making soft mewling noises on her lap as she scratched the very base of his neck, right above his wings. Both girl and bird had both eyes locked on the groaning boy on the bed, not blinking, and not moving. Emerald green eyes snapped open, and a strong wind began whistling through the room. The torches on the wall flickered, the fire drowning to just sparking embers, before blazing up in an inferno that kissed the ceiling. The bed directly next to Harry was creaking , threatening to shatter. How odd, Albus reflected once more, that these hospital beds could survive the Marauders, the Prewitt twins, and the Weasley twins, and fall apart from one young man's untapped potential.
"Harry? I'd like you to look at me please. You've been very brave, but I need you to focus. Can you do that?" The Headmaster asked softly. Everything stopped abruptly, and Harry turned his gaze to Albus quickly. "I owe you quite a few apologies, and many explanations for years to come. I have failed you, Harry. I never explained your heritage." he paused when Harry attempted to deny what he was saying, but Albus held up a hand to pause Harry's admirable defense of the Headmaster's past decisions. "I, am of course, not referring to 'The-Boy-Who-Lived', but rather, your heritage as both the last Potter, and the last remaining Peverell. I promise to you, I will go over every minor detail you need to know about the two families before your 13th birthday this July. Right now, I want to explain what happened to you tonight, Harry. That gorgeous piece of magic you performed tonight, the very one I saw clearly from my office, was too powerful for your wand. It could not withstand the pure power, and emotions behind your Patronus spell. The shards landed in your arm, which Madame Pomfrey and Fawkes removed and healed for you. Normally, that wouldn't be too serious. However, the backlash of the explosion forced your magical maturity early. All of your magical potential is pulsing through your veins this very instant, instead of you slowly unlocking your powers over the next decade. That means several immediate problems. Firstly, your magic won' accept a new wand until July at the soonest. Secondly, your magic is very sensitive, and very reliant on your emotions right now. Depending on what I observe in July when we visit Ollivander's once more, you may even have to switch wand arms, and relearn how to cast. Finally, I shall be taking a larger role in training your potential, . The first lesson shall begin in," here, he paused to check his wrist watch " fifteen minutes, so you may visit your friend before we dive unto the breach once more." Albus walked away, Fawkes landing on his companions shoulder in a swirl of flames before both closed the Hospital door behind them softly.
"Harry James Potter! Don't you ever scare me like that again!" Hermione sobbed, clutching her best friend to her chest. "Please Harry, you're my best friend, the best one I have ever had. I don't know what I would do without you. I..I love you Harry, I love you like the trouble making little brother I have at home now. I'd be lost without you, a ship without a mast on a tumultuous sea. Don't you ever dare again, Potter. Or else I'll hex you back into Madame Pomfrey's care moments after you escape her clutches. Don't test me!" She sobbed even harder, and buried her head onto his chest.
"Hermione, I'm sorry." Harry's voice was soft, full of concern for her. "I've never known love, but I guess I would have to say that you're very dear to me. I don't want to think of a life without you around, that's a nightmare I'd rather not see. I don't know what having a sister feels like, but you're the truest, and the best friend I've had. Please forgive me? I know it doesn't excuse me getting hurt again, but I didn't mean to?" he finished in almost a question, as Hermione had raised her eyes to regard him closely. She chuckled weakly, easing his worries a little. Hermione looked around, and saw the Headmaster waiting patiently out of ear shot, looking off into space, and humming a tune she vaguely recognized as a song from The Beatles that her mother really liked.
"Harry, study hard with Professor Dumbledore! It's really a great honor, I mean, just the things he could teach you! I'd be jealous, but, that's Ron's job." She joked lightly, giving him another hug, and a peck on his cheek, before bolting from the room. Harry was bewildered, but that moment in time, Harry Potter decided that maybe girls weren't icky at all, and a kiss on the cheek could make his Patronus sing as it pranced through the air. He was pulled out of his daze by a lighthearted chuckle next to him, and he smiled at the old man.
"Mr. Potter, we shall now leave the realm of strict laws and rules, and step into a realm of half baked nonsense spewed by half forgotten men that make me look young. In other words, conjecture and utter chaos. Are you ready?" He eyed Harry over his half moon spectacles, his bright blue eyes twinkling. At Harry's speechless nod, pulled out a bag of lemon drops, and offered one to his new pupil. At Harry's polite refusal, Albus sighed dramatically, and popped one into his own mouth. He sucked on it happily for a bit, savoring the tart flavor of the candy.
"Um, Professor? What are you going to teach me?" the young man asked his newest teacher.
"I beg your pardon, young Mr. Potter, just the hazards of getting old sneaking up on me once more. I shall be teaching you how to control your magic. It has gotten a tad haywire after tonight's excitement, no? Okay, please sit up, and enter the lotus position, like so." Albus demonstrated by slipping into position next to his bed. Harry sat up with a little effort, favoring the left side of his body as he mimicked the Professor. "Good Harry, most excellent! We shall start by controlling our breathing, like this." Albus inhaled deeply, feeling everything slide away in peace as he started to center himself. He went through the exercise a couple times, to find his own rhythm breathing. "Alright Harry, inhale, one thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three, exhale, slowly now. Just concentrate on the breathing for now. When I feel you've got it down, we shall progress to the next exercise." A few minutes later, he felt a hint of magic leaving his young pupil's body with every exhale. "Next exercise Harry, that was very good. This time, I want you to push a small portion of your magic out when you exhale, and pull the same amount in when you inhale. Use your arms, as well. When you inhale, open your arms as if hugging someone. Yes, Mr. Potter. Precisely like that. When you exhale, I want you to push your arms forward gently, as if holding the person you were embracing at arms length, in order to see them clearly. Are you following, Mr. Potter? I'm not going too fast?"
"No sir, not at all! I wish you would teach Potions. I might enjoy it." Harry said with a sheepish grin. Albus smiled back, his eyes twinkling.
"Alas, I was meant for that foolish wand waving, Transfiguration." He winked at Harry, before motioning to continue. The minutes passed by silently, Albus going through motions long familiar to him through necessity, then after awhile, for peace. After a good quarter of an hour, perhaps even longer, Albus cleared his throat softly, in order to catch Harry's attention without ruining the serene look the young Potter heir had on his face. Harry didn't even flinch, the only reason Albus could tell that he had Harry's full attention was his many years as an educator. One must learn how to read body language when teaching teenagers day in, and day out, after all. "Next, Harry, is the last portion you shall next for this. I can only point your feet to the path, on this one you must learn the hard way. What do you feel, Harry, when you push your magic out? What do you feel when you pull it back in? Think for as long as you need, even go through the exercises if you must. Take your time, I have nothing but time."
"Yes sir." Was all Harry said, causing the Headmaster to smile. Albus always knew Harry had it in him, and was pleased that he had made the decision to focus on Harry, not 'The Greater Good.' He had been weathering the political infighting for years, he had weathered more ministers than he cared to recall, ministers both great and inept, both just and corrupt rose and fell in his memories. Students sorted, and gradated in his mind's eyes. With a near perfect recall, his sharp memory remembered every single name. Students that made his eyes water with pride as they graduated to better the world; students that he failed, students that wanted nothing but to crush the world as an ant beneath their heels.
Of course, there was his worst failure of all, Tom Riddle. A student with more talent, he hadn't met until Lily Potter jammed the Sorting Hat onto her bright red hair so long ago. She had been so bright, so full of life, the very earth had sobbed when she had been lost. Indeed, the world was a much darker place without her light. Now her precious son was in front of him, and he'd e damnded if he failed Harry Potter again. For Lily, always from then on. For Lily. It became a mantra, carved into the stone halls of his Occluded mind. For the first time in a long time, Albus Dumbledore didn't sweat about politics, or dread what need the public would need. No, he rejoiced, for he was doing what he had missed for so long, without realizing it. He was teaching, Albus Dumbledore's greatest purpose in this life, his greatest accomplishment. Working with Nicholas Flamel was humbling, and very important. Defeating Gellert Grindlewald was what catapulted him to renown, the destruction of his once love. He felt disgust for what he had to do, and pain for what he had lost, before releasing it gently. His spine tingled, his eyes watered, and his scalped burned. Blue eyes snapped open, and before him stood something, someone he never thought he'd see again. Arianna Dumbledore looked not a day over 21, still as pure as fresh snow, still perfect. He was shocked speechless, tears running down his cheeks unchecked into his beard.
The shade of his sister quirked her head in that way she always did when she was feeling particularly curious, one of the little things that he had nearly forgotten about her, one of the things he almost lost of his sister. The small smile that had been tugging at her lips bloomed into a grin that went from earlobe to earlobe, her eyes wide with happiness.
"Big brother, I'm so proud of you! I forgive you, Albie. I forgave you years ago, please, just forgive yourself. You bring honor to our family, Grandfather would be so proud of you! My time here is drawing to a close, I have to visit Abe once more, too. Take care, Albie. I love you..." her shade vanished like smoke chased by wind off a mountain, and Albus Dumbledore sobbed.