Sorry this is a little late all. Anyways, went to Ottawa, watched Brave, and cleaned my room. Very dull (minus Brave. Excellent movie.) Gonna attempt something a little different for perspective. Typically, its Harry centred. Decided to walk on the wild side and chose do something everyone does, but I haven't yet.

So here we go. The inner thoughts and secrets of Dumbledore, and the House Harry now belongs in.

Also, I'm pretty much assuming you all want Tonks for Harry's girlfriend, according to the reviews. Gonna warn you though-not happening until after the First Task I'm afraid.

Dumbledore was not pleased.

He had caught the briefest of brief glimpse at the Boy Who Lived after he had collapsed when he discovered a rather unfortunate truth during his time of eavesdropping-something that he was going to have to lecture him about when he began his little meetings with the boy.

But here stood Harry Potter, or as he rather be referred to, Lestrange. He stood tall and confident, rather than what he had hoped for. He had hoped for the broken spirited boy with a stooped shoulders and a bruised back. He wanted his eyes to be trapped behind his glasses, a liability of its own in a way, full of distrust and fear. He wanted to prey upon this boy, and order him about carefully from his Tower, as if he were no more than a pawn.

But instead of being deposited on the doorstep of his petty Muggle Aunt's and a few simple wards to deflect a few tracking charms and such, he found nothing.

The Potter's home was diminished. Gone. Destroyed. A few flames had begun to smoulder at the far corner of the rubble, and fabric and pieces of what had once been a home were strewn about, and he had waded painstakingly through the place searching for the child.

It had been a rather strange discovering from the tale of a lower Employee at the Ministry of Magic, that the Lestranges had Harry in legal custody.

He had been rather enraged and furious for weeks, destroying ancient objects that had taken him ages to come into possession and screaming himself hoarse.

But, after years of searching for the child, the Weasley's had spotted him.

They found him at the Quiditch Cup, supporting Canada. They found him walking through the Camping Grounds in the company of an older woman, whom he called 'Mum', with wild black hair and dark eyes that glinted with an untold tale.

With tracking charms in place, they barely had time to make it back to their own site to contact himself when Death Eaters attacked with spite, and unleashing a Dark Mark symbol in the sky for the world to see clear. The very truth that Dumbledore had strived to keep hidden for so long, because of the Greater Good, was spelled out for the entire world to see. Muggle, and Magical.

It had taken days of interviews and meetings to calm the high strung and bring back the fragile peace to the public.

By the time he had been able to spare the group assembled for taking the Lestranges down and bringing in the boy, he had never thought of the side effects. Such as Harry having affectionate feelings for these monsters. And that terrified him. Albus needed to be able to bend Harry to his will, and create a bond that would leave him dependent upon the grand Headmaster. The fact that the Boy Who Lived was straying so far into the dark created an issue that was growing frantically.

But, the Lestranges managed to hold their own against thirty of his people, flinging around hexes and curses that left his people battered and bloodied by the time they were done, and it took eleven to send a spell hard enough to send Harry flying against a wall to render him unconscious for the time being.

And then, the work of filling out forms and flinging his own name around to ensure that they were safe and sound in Azkaban and Harry secure under Sirius's custody –the man was a pawn as well. So easy to lure into taking control of Harry's guardianship, and directing him to the way of the light.

But, Harry appeared to be unwilling to listen to reason.

He was sly and cunning, bold and brave. He picked fights with anyone that didn't strike his fancy, and schemed his way around rules.

He had hoped Neville would influence the boy away from the darkness and perhaps from his 'family' as well. The guilt and worry he might harbour after meeting someone such as Neville himself could create a barrier, or a wedge between him and the Lestranges.

But, according to his source (evil grin), it was the opposite.

Harry had known about the unfortunate tale of Alice and Frank and was merely amused in it. And the fact that he knew the previous drawn up list of God family, he knew far more than he should.

The Potters had wished it to be that Harry went to either Black, or the Longbottoms, if the unfortunate ending to their lives had proceeded as planned, which it had.

And now, with Sirius whining about the distrust this boy held, and Amelia breathing down his neck every moment and the Weasleys moaning about everything beneath the sun, he was becoming impatient to complete his plan.

But, the doors had slammed open as customary, and in stumbled tiny and terrified First Years, and behind them was a rather tall and pale teenager who strode in behind them, twirling his wand with his fingers.

That had annoyed Albus first off. The wand Albus had burned had been reduced to ash. The fact that he had another wand created another issue. And, the rather emotionless mask that was displayed upon his face, and a rather forbidding glare in his eyes.

Tom Riddle flashed before his eyes, and he could have sworn he was watching the next Leader of the Dark.

And then, the Boy leaned casually against the wall as he waited his turn to be sorted, paying no heed to the sorting. A lack of respect was shown once again. This boy was not submitting to his will.

And then, he watched as the young woman from across that hall, also leaning confidently on a wall, playing with a knife watching carefully.

Tonks.

Damn Amelia.

The Boy's sorting startled him.

Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes faded way into half an hour.

He had attempted to breach the barriers of the hat and influence the choice to Gryffindor, but found rather strong walls between him and the choice.

It was a name called that left a rather bitter taste in his mouth.

Oh no.

Albus was far from pleased.

…

…

…

Harry smirked, eyes flashing with pride. Tonks flashed him a thumbs up and his new friends from the train filled the hall with rather enthusiastic clapping, along with Fred and George cat calling.

He stood easily, threw the hat down on the stool behind him with disregard.

Walking forward a few steps, he paused. He turned and looked the rather old and horrified Headmaster in the eye, and gave him a mock bow, and with a causal flourish, he raised the middle finger in a salute to him.

His black robes had magically changed to accept the Ravenclaw symbol upon his chest, and he moved down the sea of students to sit next to a blond girl, and with a casual beckon, Tonks next to him.

Little short all, but hopefully this will do for now. At the moment, my friend from Taiwan is wishing to Skype me. I can't wait for when she returns to Canada. This late night talking thing is killing me. Night all.