Summary: Harry Potter is just an eccentric school boy with some unusual talents. Lord Peverell-Black, on the other hand, is a magically and politically powerful man with the world at his fingertips and a war at his doorstep. [Time travel, no pairings.]
Shards of Time: The Master of Death
Chapter VI
The Sorting
"Experience is not what happens to a man; it is what a man does with what happens to him." - Aldous Huxley
The sky was already pitch-black when the train finally pulled to a stop in Hogsmeade Station. As Harry stepped off the train and into the cool night air, he didn't even try to stop the bright smile that came onto his face. He couldn't wait to get to the school again; it hadn't been that long, but he'd definitely missed it.
"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" a booming voice thundered out. Still grinning, Harry look down to the end of the platform where Hagrid stood out far above the masses of students getting off the train, a lantern in hand. "C'mon now! Firs' years!" he called out again.
Harry glanced back once to make sure that his friends were following him and then began to push his way toward Hagrid. As they approached, Hagrid smiled his big shaggy smile down on them.
"'Ello there," he greeted. "Is tha' you, Harry?"
"Yes, sir," Harry said while feigning confusion—Hagrid technically hadn't met him yet. "But how do you know who I am?"
Hagrid positively beamed. "I knew yer parents," he replied. "Yeh look jus' like James. Though yeh 'ave Lily's eyes!" Suddenly he paused, his eyes widening. "I fergot to introduce meself, haven't I? I'm Rebeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at 'Ogwarts." Hagrid stuck his hand out and Harry shook it, his own hand completely enveloped by the half giant's.
"I'm Harry Potter—though I suppose, of course, that you already knew that."
From there Harry also introduced Hagrid to the rest of his friends. By the time they were done, all of the first years had gathered around and the platform was starting to clear as the rest of the students headed toward the carriages.
"Righ' then," Hagrid boomed out to the group, causing several children to jump, startled. "This way—follow me."
Hagrid turned around and proceeded to lead them down a slippery slope towards the lake. When they finally reached the water's edge, they found a cluster of rowboats waiting for them.
In the scramble to get into the boats, Harry got partially separated from his friends. In the end he wound up in a boat with Neville, Hermione, and, surprisingly, Blaise.
"Ah, Harry!" Blaise exclaimed with a grin, surprising Harry with the use of his first name, considering as they'd only met once. Blaise seemed like a very laid back kind of kid. "How good it is to see you again! If I didn't know better, I'd say that you were stalking me." His grin widened, showing that he was just bantering.
Harry chuckled, if a bit uncomfortably. "I could same the same to you," he pointed out.
Blaise let out a chiming laugh in reply. "True, true!" he commented and then turned his attention onto Harry's friends. Seeing his gaze, Harry decided that introductions were in order.
"This is Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger," he told Blaise, gesturing to each of them in turn. "They're two friends of mine whom I met on the train." He ignored how Neville blushed heavily at being called Harry's friend.
Blaise firmly shook hands with Neville's and then kissed the back of Hermione's hand, causing the girl to blush.
"It is a pleasure!" he said, the smile never leaving his face. "A pleasure!"
"Where...are you from?" Hermione asked slowly. "Your accent sounds..." She struggled for a moment before making a sound of triumph. "Italian!"
Blaise's smile brightened. "Yes," he answered with a nod towards her. "I am Italian. My father is the Italian Ambassador to the British Ministry of Magic, which is why my family is here."
Harry's eyebrows rose; he'd never known that. Granted, he didn't think he'd ever actually spoken to Blaise before now, so that lack of knowledge made sense.
Hermione also looked instantly curious. "So you're attending Hogwarts just because you're here? Is there a school in Italy that you would have gone to if you were there?"
"Yes actually—it's in Rome. I believe it's just about the oldest magical school." He paused for a moment, thinking. "Well, no; there's a school in Egypt that is older, though they're pretty close."
Harry felt himself blinking in surprise. He'd thought that Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang had been the only magical schools in Europe! Apparently, Neville had also thought something similar.
"I hadn't known that there were so many magical schools..." the shy boy said hesitantly.
Blake grinned once more. "Sure!" He said. "There's actually at least one magical school in almost every country, though many of them are quite small. I believe that there are actually three in Great Britain at the moment; Hogwarts is just the oldest and the most renowned—not to mention the hardest to get into."
Harry couldn't help but let his mouth drop open in shock this time. There was more than one magical school in Great Britain? How come he'd never been told?
Before Harry could say a word however, the group was broken from their conversation by a sharp gasp from Hermione. Harry looked up quickly, only to freeze as he saw exactly what had caught the young witch's attention: They had just moved around a corner, bringing Hogwarts and all of its beauty into full view. Harry himself had to breathe in sharply as well, and he heard Neville and Blaise having similar reactions.
The castle stood on its high cliff above the lake. Its tall spires stretched toward the sky and its dark walls seemed to stretch on forever. All of the castle's windows were brightly lit, giving it a warm, welcoming look.
Harry stared transfixed at Hogwarts castle. Now, more than ever, he realized just why the first years were taken to Hogwarts on a different route than the rest of the students. It wasn't just because of the Sorting Ceremony, but to give them their first view of Hogwarts in its entire splendor. Even Harry, who had spent so many years of his life within the castle walls, was shocked into speechlessness by the sight.
As Harry continued to stare at the castle however, another sight flashed before his eyes. It was one of Hogwarts as it had been during the Final Battle, with its walls crumbling, pillars falling, spells shooting in every which direction, bodies littering the ground, and enemies of many different races advancing.
Sharply, Harry turned his head away to stare into the dark, murky waters of lake. No matter how much he tried to rid them from his mind however, his memories of how Hogwarts had been in what he had believed to be his finals moments were burned into his mind. Harry gulped deeply, shifting so he could grip the sides of the boat as he continued to push his feelings away, down deeper and deeper into his sub-consciousness. Not now. Not now. He didn't want to deal with this right now.
Harry never noticed the narrowed pair of eyes that were watching him.
After passing over the lake, leaving the boats, and clambering up a stone passageway, the first years finally made it to a huge oak front door. The students walked up a flight of steps and crowded around the door. After making sure that there were no wayward students, Hagrid raised a gigantic first and knocked three times on the castle door.
The door swung open at once, and there stood Professor McGonagall in emerald green robes with her usual stern look plastered across her face. Harry couldn't repress the small smile that crossed his face at the sight her. After his sixth year the only time that Harry had seen the older professor was just before the Final Battle, when he'd been trying to find Ravenclaw's diadem.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."
She pulled the door wide with a gesture, revealing the massive entrance hall to the new students. As Professor McGonagall let them across the flagged stone floor, Harry couldn't help but marvel at how familiar it felt to walk through the castle once more. It was as though he had never left.
Even as these thoughts flew through Harry's mind however, memories of Hogwarts during the Final Battle flared once more. With a wince, Harry pushed them down, his excitement subsiding. He really hoped that he would start to forget Hogwarts as it had been, to replace it with what was now around him. It would be quite inconvenient, not to mention painful, to continuously see death around him.
Before Harry knew it, McGonagall had ushered all of the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. The children crowded in, standing rather closer than Harry was comfortable with. It was there that Ron, Susan, and Terry found them again; apparently the three had traveled together in the row boats. Draco, Theodore, and several other students that Harry didn't recognize also stood nearby.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall started, looking around at them all. "The start-of term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room.
"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each had produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House Points, while any rule-breaking will loose House Points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours.
"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."
She then turned on her heel and left the chamber. Almost immediately, students began whispering amongst themselves, wondering how they were going to be sorted.
"Fred, my brother, said that it's a test that hurts a lot, but I think that he was joking," Ron was saying. Meanwhile, Hermione was whispering very quickly about all of the spells that she'd learned and wondering which ones she needed.
Next to Harry, Blaise chuckled. "Like sheep, they bounce their fear off one another, allowing it to expand into near panic," he murmured quietly in an amused voice.
"I don't even understand why they're afraid," commented Susan, who stood on Harry's other side, as she mirrored Blaise's grin. "It's not as though Hogwarts has ever turned any students away that they've already accepted."
"Yes," Harry agreed, speaking a little bit louder so that everyone could hear him without actually appearing to be doing so purposefully. "I mean, we're first years; they wouldn't honestly have a test that could hurt us or one on magic since we haven't even started school yet."
Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, the other students began relaxing, logic overriding their irrational fear. Quietly, Theodore approached Harry from behind.
"Interesting manipulation of words there, Potter," he commented. Harry just smiled innocently at him.
"Manipulation of words? I'm not sure that I know what you're talking about."
Dark amusement was clear in Theodore's face. "You are a true Slytherin, you know that?"
Harry's smile widened. "I don't know about that," he replied. "You've never seen me when I'm truly reckless."
Before Theodore could continue the banter, a sharp voice cut into the buzz in the room.
"Move along now. The Sorting Ceremony's about to begin." Professor McGonagall had returned. "Now, form a line," she continued, "And follow me."
Harry slipped into line with Theodore in front of him, Blaise behind him, and Susan behind Blaise. The rest of his friends were situated at different parts along the line, wherever they'd managed to slip in. The first years then followed Professor McGonagall out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through the pair of doors that led into the Great Hall.
The Hall itself was just as Harry remembered it, with its thousands and thousands of candles floating in midair beneath the charmed ceiling and above the four long tables of the different Houses. At the top of the Hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting.
Professor McGonagall led the first years up to the staff table. She then silently pulled out and placed down a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put the worn Sorting Hat.
Everyone in the Hall stared at the hat as silence descended over the room. Then the hat twitched and a rip in the brim opened wide like a mouth—and then the hat began to sing:
"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"
The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.
"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered. "I'll kill Fred; he was going on about wrestling a troll."
Harry smiled weakly. He'd considered telling his friends what the actual "test" was, but since the hat was a secret for the first years, he decided against it. Even those who had younger siblings never told them about the hat, as could be seen quite clearly with Ron.
What was making Harry nervous however was a part of the hat's song that he'd completely overlooked: The hat could see into his mind, into his memories. Or, as it said, "There's nothing hidden in your head, the Sorting Hat can't see". He only hoped that the hat's abilities worked similarly to Legilimency so that since he'd placed the memories in vials, the hat wouldn't be able to see them. It would be a complete disaster if the hat told Dumbledore that he was from the future.
Suddenly Harry paused, realizing something. Even though he'd taken out his memories, he could still remember them quite clearly. But that didn't quite make sense; weren't they out of his head now? And beyond that, the whole idea of "taking out your memories" suddenly seemed very strange to Harry. If you did remove the memories, wouldn't that mean that you didn't remember them at all anymore? But that didn't seem to be how it worked...
Before Harry's thoughts could continue on their path, Professor McGonagall stepped forward, holding a long roll of parchment.
"When I call your name, you will sit on the stool and put on the hat sit so you maybe sorted," she said, then picked up the hat with her free hand, looking at the parchment. "Abbott, Hannah!"
A pink-face girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause—
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.
The table of the right, the Hufflepuff table, cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down.
"Bones, Susan!"
Susan took a deep breath and then made her way confidently toward the stool. When she pulled the hat over her eyes, it took quite a bit longer that it had originally for the hat to come to a decision. Finally, it shouted out, "HUFFLEPUFF!" and Susan scuttled off to sit at the table. Harry waved to her as she went.
"Boot, Terry!"
Harry's head turned back to look up front as another of his new friends was called up. This time however, the hat only had to rest on Terry's head for a moment before yelling out, "RAVENCLAW!"
The sorting continued on for several more minutes before the next of Harry's friends, Hermione, was called up. She was so excited that she nearly ran to stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head, causing Harry to chuckle.
Surprisingly, Hermione's sorting also took much longer than it had the first time around. Finally, after nearly two minutes, the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" Even as it did however, it sounded a bit unsure of itself.
Hermione smiled as she ran off to the cheering Gryffindor table.
"Longbottom, Neville!"
Neville quickly hurried up to the stool, nearly falling over as he did so. The hat took a long while to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," the boy quickly ran off, fortunately remembering to take the hat off first, unlike during his original timeline.
Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called. To Harry's great shock however, the hat didn't immediately call out his house. Rather, it was almost a minute and numerous whispers among the student body later before the hat finally yelled, "SLYTHERIN!" Malfoy quickly took the hat off and nearly threw it back onto the stool, scowling heavily at it, before stalking over to the Slytherin table. Harry raised an eyebrow at Malfoy as he passed, but the blonde refused to meet his eyes.
When Theodore was called up the hat quickly shouted "SLYTHERIN," as it had in the past. Then there were only a few more people before finally—
"Potter, Harry!"
As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.
"Potter, did she say?"
"The Harry Potter?"
Harry just barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Over time the student body had gotten used to him being a student and, particularly with everything that had gone on over the years, he'd stopped being such a "celebrity". He hoped that he wouldn't have to deal with the children's interest again for too long.
The last thing that Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. Nervously, he waited to see how things would turn out.
"Hmm," the small voice of the hat said in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes—and wait, what's this?"
Abruptly the hat went completely silent and still for several moments. Harry waited tensely for it to speak again. He knew that hoping that it hadn't found his old memories was too much to ask for.
"Merlin's balls!" the hat gasped quietly, surprising Harry with its sudden vulgarity. "Well, this is a surprise, Mr. Potter. And not to mention quite interesting. I don't believe that I've ever had a case like this before. Not to mention that..." Suddenly the hat trailed off, as if unwilling to finish its sentence. Harry was curious as to what it had been about to say, but figured that it was better not to ask.
'Will...you tell anyone?' Harry questioned hesitantly in his mind.
Again, the hat paused for several moments. "No," it said finally, a tired note in its voice. "I will not for several reasons. The one that you need to know however is that I am spelled to never be able to tell anyone of the things that I find in the minds of those I sort. It's a security precaution.
"Hmm, well, before I get back to the sorting, I will first answer another question that's been at the forefront of your mind: How I can still see your memories even though you've removed them and, beyond that, how the removal of memories even works. I would normally not release information like this, but I know that you will never find it in any books and believe that you need the answer.
"First of all, you need to understand what Legilimency is. It's defined as the invasion of the mind, yes, but really it is the attacker scanning through the memories of the user, rather than going into their actual mind. When one removes their memories in order to either store them or place them within a pensieve, they're not taking out their actual memories. Rather they're removing the magical residue that resides on the memories. The memory is imprinted onto the residue, which is why you can view it in a pensieve. Doing this also means that anyone who invades your mind cannot see the memory, because it is the magical residue which normally would allow them to find and see the memory."
Harry blinked in surprise and then had to grin. Now that it had been explained to him, Legilimency made a whole lot more sense.
'What is Occlumency then? How does it work?' Harry asked the hat.
"Occlumency is a lot like Muggle meditation," the hat told Harry. "Only, due to the magical core which exists within all wizards and witches, the 'meditation' takes a bit of a different turn. Those who manage the meditation—clearing the mind—are brought into direct contact with their magical core. Not only does this up the witch or wizards power, but, due to the connection, they have a bit of control over the magical residue that resides over their memories. This control means that that the Occlumens will be able to change their memories or hide them from the view of someone using Legilimency. Of course, it takes quite a bit of practice to become adept at it, but masters of the art—which are rare, considering as the mind arts are a very obscure branch of magic—are able to completely block attackers from their mind and, if they're truly powerful, even harm their attacker.
" Professor Snape, when he was teaching you Occlumency, was attempting to do it the roundabout, shortcut way because you did not have much time. I'm afraid however, that some people, like you, need more instruction on Occlumency. Those who do need more instruction though are generally more adept at the full version though. See what you can manage with the information that I've given you."
Harry nodded, already sorting through all of the information that he'd been given. He knew what meditation was, so if he started with that he might be able to make a bit headway with Occlumency. The statement of "clear your mind" that Snape had always yelled at him made a whole lot more sense now.
'Is there any other way that I can learn Occlumency?' Harry questioned. 'Any books or anything?'
The sorting hat let out an uncharacteristic snort. "What part of 'it's an obscure branch of magic' don't you understand? There are no books on the subject. Only handful of people even know of the existence of the mind arts, let alone are able to use them. I'd be surprised if there were even a hundred Occlumens in the world, and probably only a quarter of that number are cable of any sort of Legilimency. What you have to understand is that because so few people know Legilimency, there isn't too great a need for people to protect there minds. And because of this the number of people knowing Occlumency has gone down, and thus the number of people able to teach the mind arts has also decreased. The mind arts are a dying branch of magic.
"Well, Mr. Potter, enough of that," the hat continued. "I do believe that the rest of the school is waiting for us to be done."
Harry blinked once more, suddenly realizing that he'd been talking with the Sorting Hat for quite a while. Now that he focused on it, he could hear whisperings filling the hall as the students—and doubtless many of the teachers—wondered what was taking so long.
"You do indeed have quite a bit of courage," the hat told him, "As you have proven time and time again. You have loyalty almost to a fault. Those whom you trust you would gladly give your life to protect. You also have a brilliant mind, half because you've had to become quick minded in order to survive all that you've been through. Above all, however, you are Slytherin to the bone. You are incredibly cunning—you've had to be all your life to survive, and it had only increased with time. You have also become quite ambitious, though your ambition is a noble: To rid the world of Voldemort and save those whom you care about. It's an ambition nonetheless though, and you will do just about anything to achieve it.
"Still, even with all of this, your unhesitant recklessness, raw courage, and knack for plunging into any situation headfirst, regardless of the danger it affords you, leaves me with only one house in which I can put you in. I shall agree with my...predecessor...and place you in GRYFFINDOR!"
Harry let out a slightly relieved smile as he thanked the Sorting Hat and pulled it off his head. He had hoped he'd be placed in his old house; he wasn't sure what he'd have done if the hat had put him in Slytherin, even with all of his new...allies...there.
The hall all clapped loudly for him, if a bit slower than usual due to their confusion. The Gryffindors were quite enthusiastic and several of them had stood up while clapping.
As Harry began to approach the stool, McGonagall gave him a hard stare. Apparently she, like everyone else, was curious as to why his sorting had taken so long. Harry carefully avoided her gaze; he wasn't supposed to really know her yet.
When Harry took his place at the Gryffindor table, he was immediately bombarded with congratulations and introductions. After a minute or so, once everything had calmed down, Harry was able to focus his attention on Hermione, who was sitting across from him.
"Why did your sorting take so long?" she asked, voicing the question that Harry knew was on everyone's minds. Sure enough, everyone around them began to lean in, curious as to what Harry's answer would be. "You were up there for at least five minutes!"
Harry simply gave her a mysterious smile. "I...got caught up in a conversation with the Sorting Hat," he replied. Hermione raised an eyebrow, but didn't ask him to elaborate.
"Well whatever happened, mate—" a voice suddenly said from off to Harry's left.
"—You've certainly made some sort of school record tonight!" a second voice finished.
Harry turned his head to look at the speakers, only to freeze as he recognized them as two very familiar twins. Almost instantly, memories began to echo with in his mind.
Harry knew immediately that something was wrong: Lupin was supporting George, who was unconscious his face covered in blood. Harry ran forward and seized George's legs. Together, he and Lupin carried George into the house and through the kitchen to the sitting room, where they laid him on the sofa. As the lamplight fell across George's head, Ginny gasped and Harry's stomach lurched: One of George's ears was missing. The side of his head and neck were drenched in wet, shockingly bright, scarlet blood.
Harry unconsciously gripped the table tightly enough to turn his knuckles white.
The air exploded. They had been grouped together, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, and Percy. Two Death Eaters were at their feet, one Stunned, the other Transfigured; and in that fragment of a moment later, when danger seemed temporarily at bay, the world was rent apart. Harry felt himself flying through the air, and all he could do was hold as tightly as possible to that thin stick of wood that was his one and only weapon, and shield his head in his arms curling his body as tightly as he could: He heard the screams and yells of his companions without a hope of knowing what had happened to them—
And then the world resolved itself into pain and semidarkness: He was half buried in the wreckage of a corridor that had been subjected to a terrible attack. Cold air told him that the side of the castle had been blown away, and hot stickiness on his cheek told him that he was bleeding copiously. Then he heard a terrible cry that pulled at his insides, that expressed agony of a kind neither flame nor curse could cause, and he stood up, swaying slightly, more frightened than he had been that day, more frightened, perhaps than he had been in his life...
And Hermione was struggling to her feet in the wreckage, and three redheaded men were grouped on the ground where the wall had blasted apart. Harry grabbed Hermione's hand as they staggered and stumbled over stone and wood.
"No—no—no!" Someone was shouting. "No! Fred! No!"
Percy was shaking his brother, Ron was kneeling beside them, and Fred's eyes stared upward without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face.
Harry quickly pushed the memories away. He didn't want to remember what had happened. George was whole now and Fred was still alive. And they were sitting right before him. Suddenly, Harry realized that one of them was speaking, and listened back in.
"—and this is my twin brother, George," Fred was saying.
"Welcome to Gryffindor!" George chimed in.
Harry managed to give them a weak smile, hoping that they assumed his sudden change of attitude was from nervousness. "Thanks. It's...nice to meet you."
After that introduction, Harry turned his attention back onto the Sorting Ceremony. Professor McGonagall was continuing to go through her list of names, some of which he clearly recognized while others he could swear he'd never heard of before. When it was Ron's turn the hat quickly placed him into Gryffindor. A moment later, when Blaise was called up, the hat spoke with him for nearly a minute before finally declaring him a Slytherin. The dark haired Italian jovially waved to Harry as he joined Draco and Theodore at the Slytherin table.
Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away. Meanwhile, Dumbledore got to his. The hall fell silent as he beamed down at the students, his arms opened wide.
"Welcome!" he greeted, beaming. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" Many of the first year's mouths dropped in shock as the Headmaster's words set in. Harry sniggered. "Thank you!"
Dumbledore sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered.
Harry glanced down at the table to find that the dishes in front of him were pile with food. He heard numerous gasps of surprise from some of the newer, Muggleborn students and had to grin as well.
It was good to be home.
Albus Dumbledore, the Chief Warlock, the Supreme Mugwump, the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, let out a sigh as he sat in his office. The feast had passed without any problems and Dumbledore had been quite pleased to see Harry Potter among to first years and was even more pleased that the boy had been sorted into Gryffindor, even if the hat had taken a while for the hate to do so.
However, it was that very same boy who was causing him a bit of grief now.
Dumbledore frowned as he stared at the object that was held in his hand. It was a small Gringotts key that he had just found had turned black. And as the key belonged to one Harry Potter, this was a bit of a reason to be worried.
When Dumbledore had received a reply from Harry saying that he'd be attending, the older wizard had been quite ecstatic. It seemed that the boy's relatives would not hide his heritage from him as he'd originally expected, which saved him the work of sending someone out to collect Harry. However, also upon receiving the letter he'd assumed that Harry's relatives would pay for his school things, and thus hadn't bothered to send the key. He'd figured he could give it to Harry some time in the future as a present like he was going to do with his invisibility cloak—perhaps around his 14th or 15th birthday. The Dursleys didn't have the faintest clue about Harry's inheritance, or even about the existence of Gringotts, he expected, so they wouldn't use that to pay for the boy's things.
However, the only reason that the key in his hand would have turned black was if it'd been deactivated. And that would only happen if a new copy was made or if the account was seized. Considering as Harry hadn't—couldn't have—done anything to cause the vault to be seized, this meant that he knew about his vault and had access to it. But how had he found out?
Dumbledore's frown deepened further before he finally let out a second sigh. Slowly, he opened up a highly warded drawer in his desk and placed the key in it, next to a wand. As Dumbledore moved to close the drawer though, suddenly he stopped, his gaze caught on the wand and his frown returning to his face once more.
That wand—his wand—was another reason for concern, far more so than the key. It was the wand that he had won from Grindelwald so many years ago. It was the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny, and, above all, the Elder Wand.
The problem was that recently, within the past two months or so, the wand had begun acting up. It didn't respond to him the way it normally did, and often didn't even respond at all. It was as if he didn't own the wand anymore, as if it didn't recognize him. That didn't make any sense though; it wasn't as though anyone had defeated him, and certainly not recently!
Dumbledore slowly pushed the drawer closed and carefully locked it. For now he was using his original wand—the one he'd had before he'd dueled Grindelwald—but eventually he'd find out what was happening to the Elder Wand. He'd have to.
Quietly, Dumbledore stood up from his seat, swept around his desk, and began to head out of his office and toward his chambers. He needed to get his rest tonight as tomorrow would be a big day: Not only would it be the first day of term, but it would also be the opening Wizengamot meeting after the summer solstice, when they had adjourned.
After Dumbledore left the Headmaster's office was completely still for nearly five minutes. Then, suddenly, Fawkes stirred on his perch, lifting his head up. The phoenix stared hard at the desk, not blinking, for just about a minute, and then suddenly lifted off his perch and flew over to land on the back of Dumbledore's chair.
Fawkes leaned down then, nudging the lock on the drawer that Dumbledore had opened that night. Almost instantly, the lock clicked open and the drawer slid out on its own. Fawkes gently picked up the wand lying in the drawer with his talons, nudged the drawer closed, and then burst into flames, disappearing without a trace.
A/N: Please note that the explanations for Occlumency and Legilimency in this chapter are my version on the mind arts, not J.K Rowling's. Though, granted, she never really says exactly what her explanation for them is. What I have explained just makes the most sense to me, considering how Occlumency, Legilimency, and Pensieves are used in the books. And no I will not be using the ever-popular physical mind barriers theory where Harry can go into his "mindscape". While interesting, that doesn't seem even vaguely realistic to me (even accounting for magic) considering as memories are just connections between neurons in the brain. I fully blame my psychology classes for that.
As for Harry's House placement...I debated a lot over where to place him. However, at this point he's still a lot like he was in the seventh book. And even in the seventh book, Harry's Gryffindor qualities (such as braver and recklessness) far outshone his other qualities. Hell, he went to Voldemort believing that he was going to die; if that's not raw courage, I don't what is. So he's going back in Gryffindor. Everyone else also went to their original houses (which actually wasn't going to do originally) because Harry hasn't influenced them enough yet to change their houses that much.
Thanks for all your review for the last chapter!
[Shi]