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Original posting April 12, 2012.

-CHAPTER 4-

DUMBLEDORE'S UNEXPECTED GUESTS

June 24, 2000

Hogwarts

Albus Dumbledore was in a twist. No, he was angry. No, he was furious. For over twenty-four hours, the headmaster had been unable to get into his office. The stone gargoyle which protected the entrance to the office refused to step aside, no matter how much he coaxed, placated, or threatened it—and he'd most certainly not changed the password. The floo also refused to work, as did apparition, forcing him to retreat to Grimmauld Place overnight.

A query of the wards had found nothing out of the ordinary, and discussion with his colleagues had also bore no fruit. He even had several Order members attempt to fly up to the office on brooms, but no one was able to get close enough to have a look through the windows, let alone climb through. It was as if the wards themselves had sealed the office for some reason.

Enquiries to the portraits also yielded no answers, as they too were prevented from entering the office. Equally alarming, the occupants of the portraits inside the office seemed to be locked in there, unable to communicate with the rest of the school. That behaviour greatly alarmed the headmaster. Someone, had somehow commandeered his office.

On a last ditch hunch, he summoned Fawkes, after retreating to the staff room. The bird certainly appeared, and Dumbledore swore the bird was smirking at him.

"Is there someone in my office?" Dumbledore demanded. The bird answered with a happy trill.

"Are they a danger?" The bird looked at him oddly, and let out an indignant squawk, as if to say, "Are you kidding me?" Before he could ask another, the bird flashed away.

The headmaster sank down into one of the chairs, frustrated. At his age, he'd seen just about everything. Being a patient man, he would simply wait until whoever it was occupying his office was finished. Perhaps, then, they could have a lengthy conversation into the hows and the whys of such an intrusion.

"Expiring so soon? Oh, no, we can't have that!" came a voice from the white void, "Let's give that knob one more twist, shall we? After all, there is madness yet to be had!" The voice belonged to someone older, someone with a Scottish accent? No, sounded partly Irish, too. Weird.

"But... who are you?" Harry called out, his voice slick—as if he'd just eaten a tablespoon of peanut butter.

"In time we will meet, young mage, In time, yes yes! -what? What is it? Pelagius has returned? Well, let us have some more wine... and some cheese!"(1) Harry's last thought as his vision dimmed: whoever it is, he's stark raving mad!

And, although Harry did not see or feel it, somewhere deep within the pockets of Harry's borrowed jacket, the hourglass turned a brilliant shade of green which would have easily matched Harry's eyes. With a deafening CRACK, a whirling mass was sent hurdling across time and space.

Harry felt warm for the first time in several days. If he'd died, maybe.. this wasn't such a bad thing. His mum and dad would be along soon, he imagined, allowing a smile to form on his lips. And then-

"Harry?" His eyes flew open, and the dream shattered into reality. The smile did not fade, however, as emerald eyes again met grey ones. "Where are we?" came the question. Harry chanced a look around.

"Dumbledore's office. We're at Hogwarts." Harry could feel the magical energy humming around him, a sensation he'd not experienced before. It was as if his body had been starved of it for so long. He glanced up at the largest portrait in the room. "Where is Professor Dumbledore, sir?"

"He won't be intruding on you any time soon," answered the portrait, "Take all the time you need."

"Thank you." Harry looked at Mace. "How do you feel?"

"No longer frozen. Fuck, nearly as painful as swimming in the coolant tank."

"Right." Harry sat up, and quickly shed his borrowed jacket. He then drew his wand, and vanished the pile of pillows, bedding, and mattresses that had somehow made the trip with them. "Professor, how long have we been here?"

"Going on thirty-six hours, my boy."

"Who... who are you?" Mace dared ask, finally realizing what he was actually seeing.

"I am Professor Armando Dippet. I was the previous headmaster of Hogwarts, before Albus Dumbledore took over. We are all here to continue to assist the current headmaster or headmistress with the running of the school."

"Damn. That's awesome."

"Just be ready for anything, Mace," said Harry, "You've not seen anything yet." Harry thought for a moment, then asked, "If we were here for over a day... someone helped us."

"Your little friend was more than insistent, yes," said Dippet, "Although I do believe Professor Snape is rather suspicious of the missing potions."

"I'll compensate him soon as I'm able."

"And Mr. Potter. We all know who is truly to blame for young Mr. Creevey's death. You all have our utmost support."

"Thank you, professor. It means a lot. It's too bad so many people are quick to put blinders on, and ignore what's truly going on." Harry let out another little smirk, then said to no one in particular, "Dobby?"

POP. The strangest creature Mace had ever saw appeared in front of Harry. Half the size of a human being, it had ears that resembled a bat's, a long, pointed snout, and tennis-ball-sized green eyes.

"Harry Potter sir! Dobby is finding you and your friend not well! Dobby did his best to fix it, Professor Snape is in a most foul mood, sir!"

Harry had to let out a laugh. "No doubt there, Dobby. You've been right brilliant." He turned slightly, and said, "Dobby, I want you to meet a new friend. This is Mace. We met... um... a couple of days ago." Harry felt his face get hot. "Mace, this is a dear friend of mine, Dobby."

"Um... pleasure." Mace offered a hand, still sitting on the floor, and Dobby shook it enthusiastically. Harry had to smirk. The elf hadn't gone bonkers being introduced to one of his friends this time.

"Dobby, we actually need a favour. Since the professors here assure me we won't be interrupted any time soon, d'you mind bringing us up something from the kitchen?"

"Right away, Harry Potter, sir!" and with another POP, the elf was gone.

"So... he did—holy shit! My leg!" It was only then Mace realized his leg no longer hurt.

"I assure you, your little friend was quite busy, Mr. Potter," said Dippet.

"No doubt there. Merlin... if Professor Snape ever caught him..." Harry's features darkened a moment. He offered a hand, and helped Mace to his feet. He looked a little wobbly for a moment, but it quickly passed.

"How did we get here?" he asked, peeling off his jacket, much as Harry had done.

"I dunno. Maybe the hourglass went off on its own. Quite honestly, I don't care. Point is, we're no longer freezing to death... and if Dobby is helping us now, that's a good thing. And if he can't..." Harry pointed to a rather ornate perch, on which rested a crimson-coloured bird, the likes of which Mace had never seen before. It peered back at them with black, beady eyes.

"What... what kind of bird is that?"

"He's a phoenix. Fawkes. He's Dumbledore's familiar."

"His pet, you mean."

"Well..." Fawkes chose that moment to let out a musical trill, although to Harry, it sounded like a scolding. "Err... definitely not a pet. I don't know quite the difference, but it's like a bond. Much deeper than a pet, I guess." He crossed the floor and reached up, stroking the bird gently, and was rewarded with another musical call. To Mace, the sound was both calming and uplifting.

"You feel it?"

"Yeah."

"The phoenix is a strong symbol of the light. His tears have immense healing properties—when I was in second year, I nearly died... would have, had it not been for Fawkes. He can also carry extraordinarily heavy loads. That same incident, he helped a group of us to safety. Four students and an incapacitated teacher."

Mace furrowed his brow a moment, but then smirked. "Jesus. If you'd told me that before... well... me seeing any of this... I would've called B.S."

"B.S.?"

"Bullshit."

"Right," Harry grinned, then said, "Some stuff is pretty unbelievable. Just keep in mind... just about anything is possible."

It was then Dobby reappeared, an enormous platter almost as big as he was hovering in front of him. With a snap of the fingers, the small table in the lower chamber of the office was cleared, and all the knick-knacks which covered it shuffled off to other locations. The platter was placed there in its stead, and with another snap of the fingers, two chairs zipped over. Harry found himself grinning again. It looked like Dobby had brought enough to feed all of Gryffindor tower.

"So if this is the headmaster's office... what's keeping him out?" Mace finally asked, as they finally finished eating.

"I dunno. The wards, maybe."

"Wards?"

"Um, magical shields. I know there are a lot of enchantments on the castle and so on, wards being one of them. But I have a suspicion of who's actually doing it. You've just met him."

"Your elf friend?" Mace furrowed his brow.

"Before my second year, he stopped me from receiving my mail, framed me for underaged magic, and nearly prevented me from getting back to Hogwarts. So I wouldn't put it past him," Harry explained, "So locking someone out of their own office... not much of a challenge, really." Dobby popped in, and quickly vanished the remains of their meal.

"Dobby. Are you keeping Dumbledore out of the office?" The elf nodded enthusiastically. "Brilliant. But..." Harry glanced over at Mace. "You're feeling a hundred percent?"

"Yeah, think so."

"Good." Harry smiled. It was one of those creepy smiles, which usually didn't bode well for someone. "Show me your ice spike."

"This?" A glowing ball appeared in his right hand.

"Perfect. Dobby, if you could cancel your, um... well, whatever charms you're using that's keeping the old fool out."

"Right away, Harry Potter, sir!" and the little elf simply snapped his fingers. Harry smirked again, and led Mace back up to the main part of the office. "Stand there... perfect... Dobby, you mind sticking around?"

"Of course! Dobby is happy to help his friends."

"Great." Harry smirked again, and took a seat in the headmaster's chair behind the desk.

"So he'll know?" Mace questioned. He was at this point standing to the right of the headmaster's chair.

"Yeah, likely." Harry pulled the wand out of the waistband of his pants, and put it on the desk. "You might want to douse that for now. Just wanted to make sure you could do it."

"Right." The glowing orb vanished from Mace's hand.

"No magic I've heard of, but it'll catch him off guard if you get my meaning. Dobby. Once the headmaster comes in, d'you mind throwing up your, um, barriers again? I'd rather us not be interrupted."

"You don't plan on actually harming the headmaster, Harry?" came Dippet's enquiry.

"No, sir. Just want some answers I believe I'm entitled to."

"Very well then. Most understandable."

It was at that point which the door in the lower part of the office opened, and the headmaster entered. As soon as the door closed again, Dobby again snapped his fingers. Dumbledore frowned a moment, seeing the pair at his desk, but quickly reset his features, putting on his grandfatherly face.

"Ah, Harry. I see you've been borrowing my office for a time."

"You could say that, sir. And it's Mr. Potter to you. We aren't on friendly terms." the mask slipped momentarily, but Dumbledore simply nodded.

"That's close enough."

"I see you have a friend with you."

"I'm not here to discuss him. Let me only say, we've been through a bit of an adventure together." Harry rose from where he was sitting, and put his hands on the desk, then fixed the headmaster with a most withering icy gaze. "Headmaster, you betrayed me. You betrayed my trust in a most spectacular way. Tell me... why? After telling me I was your only hope for defeating Voldemort... three or four days... and I was framed, railroaded through a farce of a trial, and thrown into Azkaban. Tell me, what purpose did that serve?"

"The evidence—" Dumbledore began, but Harry slammed a hand down on the desk. "To HELL with evidence, Dumbledore! You could have administered Veritaserum! You could have drawn PENSIEVE testimony! No, instead, you and the bunch of fucking sheep in that useless Ministry just went by my backstabbing peers, believing whatever tripe they spewed from their poisoned lips... seized an opportunity to be rid of me. I hope it was worth it. Because quite honestly, I won't raise a finger to stop Voldemort now. You can all hang as far as I'm concerned."

"Harry-"

"It's Mr. Potter."

"Mr. Potter... surely you do not mean that. What would your mother say?"

"DON'T drag my parents into this!" Harry crackled right back, "How dare you. No, what would my parents think of you, committing the same treasonous, venomous act twice! My godfather rotted in that same hell hole I was in for twelve years! TWELVE fucking years and I still don't know how he managed to stay sane! Yet you committed the same blunder with me! No, my parents would be right furious with you."

"Mr. Potter, you have to—"

"I'm not done, knave! I PROMISE you this. I will go after the lot of you for this travesty. Where are my things? My trunk, my broom, y'know... my photo album?"

"I do believe a certain pair of twins may have them," Dumbledore answered, sadly, "They were quite vocal in your defence."

"Good. At least not all the Weasleys stabbed me in the back."

"No, Mr. Potter, I daresay they didn't. Molly and Arthur resigned from the Order not long after you were imprisoned."

"Wonderful. My vault?"

"It was seized by the government. Harry—Mr. Potter, you were convicted of a serious crime."

"Right. Framed, you mean." He picked up the wand from the desk, and gestured to a cabinet off to the side of the office. "Accio pensieve. Care to be enlightened, sir?"

The headmaster only frowned, but approached the desk, as his pensieve floated over. To Mace, it looked like an ordinary bowl, with a shimmering liquid in it. Harry was already pointing his wand at his temple, dragging what looked like a silvery strand of hair out of it.

"What am I about to see?" Dumbledore asked.

"My view of events, leading up to my arrest. This is what I remember, and Professor. I swear on everything, including my life, that this memory is whole and true." He dropped the silvery strand into the shimmering liquid. Dumbledore stuck a finger in the liquid, and seemed to freeze. Harry sat back down in the headmaster's seat, and blew out a breath. He felt a hand gently grip his shoulder, and was grateful for the support of his new friend.

Friend? Harry thought back to their last moments on board the Icarus II. Had they died, it would have been a wonderful final memory. Sure, they were freezing, but what they had done had shoved the misery aside. But... over two and a half days?

"What are we?" Harry dared question.

"What do you mean?"

"What was the last thing we did on board your space ship?"

"You mean this?" Harry was surprised, as Mace grabbed him by the shirt, and they locked lips again.

Only with a throat clearing, did they come up for air. Dumbledore had returned from the pensieve. Harry could hear some of the portraits muttering and clearing throats as well, and he knew if he could see himself, his face would be a lovely shade of red about now. The feeling fled, however, as Harry turned his full attention to the headmaster. "Well?"

"As unfortunate as your experience may have been, it still does not clearly show you were not responsible. No matter what kind of pensieve testimony you may be able to demonstrate, you do know none of it can be used before the Wizengamot. Memories can be tampered with."

"Then I'm wasting my time talking. I can see it. You've branded me a dark wizard. Did you do the same thing when Tom Riddle was a student? No, you gave him chance after chance after chance. That's one of the reasons he's the monster he is today, isn't it, sir?"

"I daresay, yes, I did make many mistakes with young Mr. Riddle, much as I have made with you. It's unfortunate we did not draw parallels—"

Harry burst out laughing. "Oh Merlin. Tell me another one!" He calmed himself. "Saying that, you again insult me and my parents. Becoming a dark wizard would equally sully their memory." He thought for a moment, then said, "Since I can't make you see reason, I guess we're done here. Just think you should know, professor. I thought of you as a grandfather at one point. I thought you cared. Now I know that to be a lie. If you really cared, you would have protected me. And now... when the day comes, you will lie in the bed you made."

"I think I've had just about enough of this, Harry," said Dumbledore, his features shifting, his hand reaching into his pocket for his wand. He was able to draw it, but before he could actually level it in Harry's direction-

KAWHACK! A spear of ice shot from Mace's hand, to impact with the headmaster's forearm, sending the long, slender wand clattering off against a nearby cabinet. Dumbledore actually fell over, the icy projectile now lodged in his arm.

"Accio WAND!" Harry snapped, and the wand flew into his hand. "Here."

"What?"

"Here. It's yours, I think." Harry tossed the captured wand to Mace. "Dobby... d'you mind seeing to the headmaster? The hospital wing, I think."

"Harry, you must... you cannot avoid the ministry forever," said Dumbledore, weakly, trying to sit up. The icy projectile was more than painful.

"I can certainly try." Dobby at this point reached down and gripped the headmaster by the robes, and they vanished with a noisy POP.

"Fuck, Harry. Remind me never to get on your bad side."

"You? Never. Dumbledore betrayed me... and so did a lot of others. That's why I'm so pissed at him right now."

"If I were you, I would be looking into leaving the country, Potter," Spoke the portrait of Phineas Black, "The Ministry most certainly knows of your escape."

"Thanks for the heads up. That sounds like a plan."

POP. "Dobby has taken Professor Dumblydore to the hospital wing."

"Great. Dobby, d'you mind locating Professor McGonagall?"

"Right away, Harry Potter, sir!" He popped away.

"Is he on your shit list?"

"She. And no, definitely not. She came to visit me a few times... and she didn't betray me in front of the Wizengamot. Right now, there's only two professors here I actually trust, and she's one of them." Harry again took a seat behind the headmaster's desk. "I just need to ask her a about someone's whereabouts."

It seemed only a minute later, that Dobby returned, along with the tall deputy headmistress.

"My word."

"'lo, professor," said Harry, with a weak smile.

"How is it you came to be here, Potter?"

"I still don't know exactly, Professor. Thank you for standing up for me at my trial. It means a lot."

"It was the right thing to do." Professor McGonagall pursed her lips. "You escaping, on the other hand..."

"I've got it in hand. As much as I'm certain a few of you have been working to get me released, I think you all know how that would work... or not. I'll force them to see the truth, one way or another."

"Being an escaped fugitive only diminishes your credibility, Potter. Surely—" She stopped, seeing the wand in Mace's hand. "Where is the headmaster?"

"Dobby took him to the hospital wing—he was still conscious when he left, if that will put you at ease. He went to draw on me. My friend here didn't take kindly to it."

"I see." Her lips were pursed so thin at this point they were almost nonexistent.

"I won't be carted off back to Azkaban, Professor. I don't want to, but I will do bodily harm if it's necessary. As it stands I have a long list of individuals I will be having a conversation with."

"Why not sue them, Harry?"

"It's not that simple, Mr..."

"James Mace... but everyone just calls me Mace."

"Knew I was forgetting something. Mace... this is Professor McGonagall."

"Pleasure." They shook hands briefly.

"Professor. I need to get in touch with Fred and George. D'you know where they are these days?"

McGonagall pursed her lips again, and Harry grinned, knowing what she was thinking. "They have a joke shop in Diagon Alley. Molly swears up and down if she ever determines who gave them the funds to start such a venture... though it is good to see them succeed."

"Thanks, Professor." Harry looked at Mace. "Just about time to go."

"And Potter. It's good to see you again."

"Likewise, professor. Try and keep the old man in line, eh?" Harry looked down at Dobby. "Can you get us to Diagon Alley?"

"Of course, Harry Potter, sir!" He offered a hand to both men.

"Take care, Professor." And with that, they vanished with a noisy POP.

AUTHOR NOTES:Hmmm... not quite the reviewer response I was hoping for, but I see lots of you are subscribing for updates. If you're subscribing for updates, you must like it somehow, right? How about posting a comment, tell me what you like about it... or some constructive feedback, I like that sort of thing as well. 'Course, flames will be used to roast Dumbledore...

(1) Okay, this is probably the biggest clue yet. If you've not played the Elder Scrolls games, you'll still be in the dark. Those of you who have.. if you haven't figured it out yet... shame :P