Disclaimer: I obviously don't own the idea of Harry Potter or any of the money making forms of it.

A/N: Finals are done -party- So now I can get back into the feeling of the story. I admit I was losing it a little bit earlier, which was why the last two parts sped on through (mainly cuz I wanted to get to the really good stuff since finals and projects were being merciless), but I am back 'in the zone' so to speak and will be more conscious when it comes to that :).

I also changed the title to this part. Dobby's Gift no longer fit like I thought it would when I really started writing it .

Well, here is the next part, hope you enjoy it.

:Parseltongue:


- - - Book 2 – Part 11: A Night of Happenings

McGonagall sipped her tea, trying to convince herself the world wasn't coming to an end. A Gryffindor…was a Parselmouth…

Dumbledore had of course updated her on the circumstances, since Potter was in her House, she needed to be kept informed of his well being and such (he would speak with Snape the next day, since he knew Snape was currently busy making potions in the dungeons for Madam Pomfrey).

If it had been anyone else who had told her about the likely magical bond between Potter and Malfoy, she would have laughed. But it had been Dumbledore. A serious Dumbledore, and that alone was enough to get her a little concerned.

Why does everything happen around that boy? she wondered. Why does fate seem so focused on him and those closest to him?

Well, it was a quarter passed twelve, and Dumbledore had promised a more in depth talk concerning everything once he had had time to do some research and think.

She knew he should be flooing in anytime now…

A few more minutes of waiting, Dumbledore stepped out of her fireplace, looking a bit more relaxed than she had last seen him.

A hopeful sight, she reasoned.

- - -

2nd Year Gryffindor Dorm

Trevor was in his box, at first weary about the possible predator in the room, but after realizing he was in no danger, he too went to sleep—joining all the others who were out like a light.

Ron snorted in his sleep, mumbling something about Snapes blasting apart Royharts, whatever those were. Dean hugged his little stuffed dog to himself, an old companion that supposedly no one else knew about (though everyone in this dorm room did, just decided not to mention it)… Neville was curled up in a little ball, his head being partially covered by his pillow. Revlis' tongue occasionally flicked out, as if constantly gathering information from around the room. Seamus was quietly snoring, drool unknowingly escaping from the corner of his mouth.

Everyone was sleeping soundly, everyone but Harry…

He was in the Chamber and was now leaving, the Basilisk behind him.

:Stairs: he hissed, causing stairs to appear.

Going up, Harry could feel Tom's anticipation, could feel the excitement and the feeling of being invincible. He would cleanse the school, and reveal himself as Slytherin's one true Heir.

Going up the tunnel, he found himself entering…a bathroom?

Harry, seeing through Riddle's eyes, took in as much as he could.

What is Riddle doing? Is this…a girl's bathroom?! Harry questioned.

Harry's thoughts were cut short as the sound of crying reached his ears.

:Myrtle, from Ravenclaw. Mudblood. We can't have her telling where you enter from… Besides, she will provide what is needed, after all… Slughorn said a life must be taken to create a horcrux…

:Kill her: he ordered the Basilisk.

Harry was certain he had caught hesitation from the serpent, but Riddle was too focused on Myrtle to notice as the large snake grounded out:Yes, master:

"Go away!" Myrtle shouted, slamming the stall door open right as the basilisk faced her.

She was dead before her body even hit the floor…

The memory continued, Riddle quickly escaping back into the chamber with the basilisk to enchant the diary, set on creating his first Horcrux.

Harry didn't know what to think as he watched the diary glow with hate and evil, Riddle ranting about this being his first step to greatness after he had spoken the spells.

The scene then shifted…

Where was he?

"Riddle, come," a voice said from behind. Riddle turned and Harry internally gasped.

Dumbledore? he wondered.

"You should not be out wandering the halls at this hour, Tom," a younger Dumbledore said.

"I…I just had to see for myself, if the rumors were true."

"I'm afraid they are, Tom."

"But, they really wouldn't close Hogwarts… I have nowhere else to go."

"I'm afraid Headmaster Dippet may have no choice."

"Professor, if the culprit behind the attack was caught…"

"Riddle, is there something you wish to tell me?"

"No sir…"

To Harry it seemed Dumbledore didn't believe him, and Riddle thought the same thing as everything shifted again, taking him back into the Chamber.

:I can't do anything while Dumbledore is watching me…: he told the snake. :I will have to seal the Chamber once again, and wait until I am able to return… or have the chance to allow the diary to persuade another…:

:This does not solve your current problem though, master:

:You are right…and I will not return to that bloody orphanage: he said with a sneer. :I have a plan which includes one brainless pathetic half-breed…:

Harry instantly knew what Riddle was planning, obtaining all of his thoughts on the subject as the memory shifted to a hallway with a door at the end.

Getting to the door, he burst it open.

"Step aside, Hagrid. I don't think you meant it to hurt anyone, but…"

"It wasn't Aragog; Aragog wouldn't hurt anyone, never!"

"Step aside, Hagrid!"

Harry would have jumped if he could have as a disturbingly large spider appeared and dashed past him…the memory shifted once more.

Harry watched, in almost a daze as he witnessed Riddle blame everything on Hagrid.

From Riddle taking Hagrid to Headmaster Dippet, to Riddle testifying to having seen the 'monster' and chasing it away, and then being awarded for services to the school… Harry saw Riddle fool everyone… everyone but Albus Dumbledore. But this didn't matter to Riddle, for he had succeeded in doing what he had wanted most…

The feeling of sadness was barely apparent within Harry anymore, for a feeling he had never felt to this degree was taking over after seeing and feeling everything from the memories he had just witnessed.

Shock was replaced by disgust, the grief of Myrtle's death shifted to outrage, and the anger that had risen upon seeing Hagrid framed and countless others tricked changed to -pure- unrestrained fury.

Still shaded in Riddle's swirling memories, Harry's rage continued to build.

It was bad enough Voldemort apparently had always been a cruel manipulative liar, murderer, and torturer, among other horrible things, but he also had always been an evil coward too.

How can anyone be this evil? Harry asked himself. To kill an unarmed girl, crying in a bathroom stall, no less… where was the cunning and mighty greatness in that?! Heh, but then, he did attack me when I was a baby.

But Harry's anger stemmed more than from that as Voldemort's past thoughts echoed in his mind…

"I am the Greatest Sorcerer in the world, the greatest there has ever been and ever will be… With my Horcruxes, I will live forever and my power and greatness will be revered and respected by all. They will fear and tremble at the mention of my name, and purebloods will take their rightful place by my side…for I am Lord Voldemort, the Heir of Slytherin."

Rage consuming him, Harry started yelling, despite the fact he was unable to really voice it, since he was 'in' Riddle and seeing everything from his eyes.

He poured out his anger, holding nothing back as he shouted out in his mind, or so he thought.

"You are NOT the Greatest Sorcerer in the world! And you never will be!!! You're an insane, bloody, murdering coward!!! Do You Hear Me?! A Damn Bloody Coward! I HATE YOU! And you will regret everything you have done! Coming after me was your biggest mistake, and before the end you will know this!"

"HARRY!"

Harry snapped his eyes open, quickly finding his arms were being tightly, though not painfully, held by none other than Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore's face, mere inches from his own, displayed a mixture of feelings he couldn't decipher, but he was pretty sure fear and concern were among them.

Harry realized he was sitting up in his bed, having apparently sat up, yelling his head off in his sleep, instead of in his mind. He was vaguely aware of the soreness that had risen in his throat, how the curtains, that should be on the rods around his bed, were gone, and that he could see no one else in the less than recognizable dorm room.

Oh man…

- - -

2nd Year Slytherin Dorm; moments before

Draco woke with a barely restrained jolt.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

He quietly sat up, trying to determine the cause of the unsettling feeling within him, and it only took him a second to discover what it was. It was the same feeling he had felt the night at the Longbottom Mansion when Harry had been having that nightmare, but this time he was aware of growing rage.

Harry…

He felt a compelling need to get to him and immediately started trying to figure out how to do it, overlooking the fact he hadn't been able to help him last time, and this time would probably be no different.

I need to get to Potter…I need to be there to help him wake up and calm down…I need to get to Potter…

-POP-

Draco vanished, much like a house elf he knew very well, leaving behind an empty bed.

- - -

2nd Year Gryffindor Dorm

Ron and the others were woken up by the sound of shaking objects, quickly followed by the sounds of things breaking.

Jumping out of bed, Ron, quickly joined by Neville, turned towards Harry's bed to find Harry on his side rocking back and forth.

The room, lit only by moon and starlight from the window, was already taking damage, the room being dominated by something that quickly told the boys this nightmare was different from the one last year which had been filled with fear, sadness, and outrage.

This one was pure, solid anger.

"I'll get help!" Dean and Seamus both said, already out the door, both running to McGonagall's room.

Ron and Neville barely acknowledged Dean and Seamus' departure, Trevor trembling in his box by Neville's bed, and Revlis quickly slithering to edge of the bed to see what was happening.

-POP-

"Ah!!!" Neville said, whipping out his wand and aiming it at the sound before lowering it in shock, everything still shaking around them. "Draco?! How—?"

Draco was just as surprised as Ron and Neville upon appearing at the foot of Harry's trembling bed, but, before any of them could attempt to do anything, the curtains around Harry's bed exploded into flames and quickly crumbled to ash.

"Bloody Hell!" Ron gasped.

"Harry, wake up!" they shouted, Revlis hissing the same thing.

But like last time, he wouldn't wake.

Within moments, they thankfully heard people running down the hall towards them, but then they quickly realized that them finding Draco in a 'Gryffindor only' area probably wasn't a good thing.

"Quick!" Ron said, dashing to his mildly shaking bed and lifting the blankets to motion Draco underneath the bed.

"No, Dobby," Draco said, thankful for the clanging and shattering noises around them as -POP-.

"Take me to my bed, quick!" Draco said, before Dobby could ask how he had gotten into Gryffindor Tower as a few things flew off one of the side tables and into the opposite wall.

Crash!

Dobby immediately took his hand.

-POP-

They disappeared just before Dean, Seamus, McGonagall, and, startling enough, the Headmaster entered. Luckily, the end of Harry's bed where Draco and Dobby had been was not in the hall's line of sight.

"Everyone, out. Now," Dumbledore stated the moment he saw the condition of the trashed room and felt thick, raw magic in the air—objects still jostling about, the window panes threatening to shatter.

McGonagall quickly guided the awake Gryffindors out (Revlis with Neville and Trevor with Ron), shutting the door behind her just in time as a rush of unrestrained, chaotic, out of control magic boomed out from the room and through the stonewalls in all directions.

The force actually propelled them forward as they heard a loud crack before someone, who they could only assume was Harry, roared out words they were unable to make out, probably due to something Dumbledore had risen around the room within.

But they all heard Dumbledore as he shouted Harry's name in a tone none of them, not even McGonagall, had ever heard him use…and then all went still.

Prefects and other Gryffindor boys slowly began to trickle into the hall, peeking from their doorways, all of them stopping to stare at the only closed door that now looked like a shattered pane of glass, covered in cracks.

- -

Dumbledore's POV

Dumbledore and McGonagall were alerted by Dean and Seamus, but they needn't have bothered. Dumbledore had felt the pressure all the way from Minerva's Living Room.

He stepped into the dorm room, no one yet having bothered to turn on the lights as he took in what was before them. Items were still vibrating and collapsing due to the overpowering magic, and he quickly gathered it was about to get a lot worse.

"Everyone, out. Now," he ordered.

I will not allow history to repeat itself. I failed in this once, I will not let it happen again, Dumbledore vowed, for a moment thinking of his past family, particularly his sister's chaotic magic.

He immediately went forward as they followed his order, and as he moved towards Harry, he cast protections about the room and on himself, to contain the imminent damage about to come forth.

And then it came.

It was like nothing he had ever felt before. It was unadulterated fury in its most basic form, and he was both relieved and deeply troubled as he discovered it was all solely directed to a single, currently unknown, individual.

The magic went into and through the walls, and he was duly aware of the magic harmlessly brushing against him as nonliving things got slammed mercilessly, for several things exploded, and he knew the door behind him would have to be replaced without even having to look at it, for he had heard the sound of splitting wood.

Before the magic completely passed, he made it to Harry just as the boy sat up, clearly still asleep, as he started yelling, louder than what Dumbledore thought should be possible.

"You are NOT the Greatest Sorcerer in the world! And you never will be!!! You're an insane, bloody, murdering coward!!! Do You Hear Me?! A Damn Bloody Coward! I HATE YOU! And you will regret everything you have done! Coming after me was your biggest mistake, and before the end you will know this!"

Dumbledore firmly planted himself on the side of the bed and grabbed Harry by the sides of his arms as he stared into his furious, slightly, raised face.

"HARRY!"

The sound of the old wizard's voice could have cut through stone, but it was not angry. It was, however, followed by silence—dead silence—as Harry opened his eyes, the magic in the air trailing off into nothingness.

Dumbledore first found rage in Harry's eyes, but that was quickly being swallowed by shock, surprise, worry, and fear.

"S-sir?" Harry managed to choke out.

"It's alright Harry, just breathe now," Dumbledore replied, not yet releasing his firm grasp on Harry's arms.

Dumbledore continued searching his face, noting the fact Harry's gaze was calculating, probably wondering how bad everything was, and if he was in trouble. Dumbledore let him go, but stayed sitting on the bed.

Dumbledore calmly looked around the room, turning on the dorm's light with the wave of his hand while deciding on the best course of action to take.

"Well, you've certainly shown me up in the degree of destroying curtains…" he said, looking down at the ashes. "I never liked these curtains…made my curtains catch fire in my fourth year myself—by accident of course."

Harry just stayed quiet for a moment, not knowing what to say, until he managed, "I'm sorry, sir."

"Harry, there are some things nobody can control; but I'd like to hear what had happened, what you had dreamed to make you so clearly angry."

Harry looked down, for whatever reason, feeling ashamed.

How could he have let himself lose control like that, even if he had thought it was only in his head?

"It's alright to get angry, Harry. There's nothing to be ashamed about, but please let me help you."

Harry clenched the edge of blankets in his fists.

How much could he safely tell him? There were the secrets of the Custosae to consider, but he probably shouldn't overlook his sanity either…

He settled on the half truth.

"I don't really know…it was hard to make out…"

That was sort of the truth; the memory had been hard to follow.

"I heard him ranting, probably to himself or something, maybe before he…" he didn't finish the sentence, not wanting to outright lie.

"Is this Voldemort, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, privately completing Harry's sentence with something involving that night nearly eleven years ago.

Harry nodded.

"Do you remember what he was saying? Is this what made you so mad?"

"Yeah…but it was also feeling what he was…at the time. Cocky and stuff."

"What did he say?"

Harry paused, Dumbledore able to tell he was wondering if he should paraphrase or quote. He decided on quoting, his very tone unconsciously reflecting the man whom he was citing.

" 'I am the Greatest Sorcerer in the world, the greatest there has ever been and ever will be… With my Horcruxes, I will live forever and my power and greatness will be revered and respected by all. They will fear and tremble at the mention of my name, and purebloods will take their rightful place by my side…for I am Lord Voldemort, the Heir of Slytherin.' "

Harry watched as Dumbledore literally lost a few shades of pigment.

Horcruxes? Dumbledore internally gasped. More than one!?

"Professor, are…are you alright?" He was honestly scared; he had never seen Dumbledore falter like that before.

"Yes Harry. But I believe you have just solved the mystery of how Voldemort has been able to escape death. It is a bit of a shock, as I am sure you understand."

"Is this about whatever horcruxes are?" Harry asked, wanting to find out how much Dumbledore knew about them.

"Yes, but let us keep this between us. The very knowledge of them can be dangerous. They are very dark, Harry. I don't even think I can fully understand the degree to which they are."

"Alright, professor."

There was a comfortable pause, and Harry took this moment to get a good look at the damaged room. All of the objects in the room had been shaken, and everything that had been five feet from his bed had either been slammed away or was broken, or both. The window was shattered, the door covered in cracks, and all of the beds had been shifted.

"How are you feeling now, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, peering over his half-mooned spectacles in concern.

"Well, I'm not really mad anymore…" he said, looking at the damage. "I can't believe I did all of this."

"Your dorm mates acted accordingly, and there has been no concernable damage. I must say, Harry, I am impressed with the magical strength of your backlash, and how it only harmfully effected non-living things. I was preparing myself for something much worse."

"Worse?" Harry asked.

Oh Harry, I cannot begin to tell you how relieved I am that it was not worse…

"Magic can be very dangerous, and in certain forms, it can be unpredictable," Dumbledore said, before getting out his wand and casting powerful repairing spells about the room.

- - -

2nd Year Slytherin Dorm

Draco immediately put a privacy ward up, among other precautions, before turning to Dobby.

"Master can pop?" Dobby asked, somehow immediately knowing.

"Apparently," Draco stated.

"How, master?"

"I don't know, I was sort of hoping you would know, but I'm more concerned about what's happening to Harry right now. He's not angry anymore, or whatever he was feeling earlier, but… Dobby, we'll talk about this later; could you go and check on Harry, make sure he's okay?" Draco asked.

"Yes master," Dobby said, before popping away.

Draco looked around the room, finding the others blissfully asleep.

How was he able to apparate or 'pop'? Was this some kind of weird reaction to the bond? Or something else? He tucked himself under his blankets, but he doubted he would be returning to sleep that night, deciding he would wait until Dobby returned to tell him how Harry and the others were, having seen the ongoing destruction within the room.

- - -

2nd Year Gryffindor Dorm

They had gone into another comfortable silence, though Dumbledore was watching Harry attentively.

Dumbledore had finished repairing the room, though the door and curtains were beyond repair, the rest was manageable. Dumbledore was now sitting on the edge of Ron's bed, across from Harry who was on his own.

Dumbledore knew McGonagall would soon be knocking on the door, and that Madam Pomfrey may have been notified about possible magical injuries. He knew he shouldn't let them worry (it now nearly being fifteen minutes since Harry woke), but he also knew he had to talk a little more with Harry.

Harry took a calming breath, trying not to think about what Dumbledore must be thinking about him now.

He must think I'm a nutcase, hearing Voldemort in my head…If he knew the whole truth…

But it doesn't matter…

"I know what I am meant to do, and I will do it," Harry mumbled to himself, not intending to really speak that out loud.

"What are you meant to do, Harry?" Dumbledore asked softly, breaking him from his thoughts.

Oh booger, did I say that out loud? I really need to seal my mouth shut.

"Harry? What is it? I want to help, but I can't unless you let me."

"I don't know how I know… I just do, okay?" he surrendered, deciding there was no helping it now. "I know I'm the only one who can stop him…and he knows it."

It was clear to them both who he was referring to.

Harry met Dumbledore's eyes, not really knowing what to expect to find, but found sadness and defeat, but also resolve and acceptance.

Dumbledore's shoulders sagged a little, and he suddenly looked every year of his age.

"I am so sorry, Harry. I had hoped you would have gone a little while longer not knowing, but now that I know you know, there is only one thing I can rightly do. Know that I am here to help, and will do everything in my power to help you complete what you know you must do.

"But promise me this Harry, as much as you can, allow yourself a childhood. Don't let Voldemort take that from you."

"Thanks Professor, I'll try," Harry said, but before he could say anything else, someone appeared before him.

-POP-

"Mr. Harry Potter, sir, Master Draco asked for me to see if you are alright," Dobby said with a bow, not seeing Dumbledore behind him.

"Thank you Dobby, I'm alright now," Harry said.

"Dobby is so glad to hear that. Master Draco was worried. He knew you were no longer angry bu—" Dobby turned around, suddenly realizing there was someone else in the room, and found himself under the curious gaze of Albus Dumbledore.

"Great Headmaster Dumbledore Sir!" Dobby said, bowing again.

"Hello, Dobby. Mr. Malfoy asked you to come here?"

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore sir! He was worried, felt Potter was in some kind of trouble. So he asked Dobby to come," Dobby said, not even pausing between words.

"Well, as you can see, Harry is much better, and soon he and his dorm mates will be returning to their beds. Go back to Mr. Malfoy and tell him all is well and that he may speak with Mr. Potter tomorrow," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling once again.

"Yes Headmaster Dumbledore sir!" Dobby said with a bow, before disappearing with a pop.

Dumbledore decided to overlook the odd statements about Draco knowing something was wrong, rightfully assuming it was another component of the odd magical bond.

Harry was glad Dumbledore did that, but then he realized his Gryffindor friends were still out in the hall, and who knew what was happening out there. He was not looking forward to the likely ramifications of this…

He could hear it now… 'The Boy-Who-Lived has earthshaking nightmares. He's bonkers!' Or worse… seeing the looks of pity…

"Don't worry Harry, I'll be going out there to explain. You won't be bothered by any rumors concerning tonight, because there won't be any," Dumbledore stated.

Harry blinked, but didn't dare hope such a statement would be made true. Dumbledore noticed.

"I learned something long ago, Harry. Houses take care of their own, if you give them the chance."

I hope you're right… Harry thought as he said, "Yes sir."

Dumbledore smiled reassuringly, motioning him to get into bed as he went to the door.

"The others will be back in a moment," Dumbledore said, before stepping into the hall and closing the door behind him.

- - -

Gryffindor Boys' Dormitory Hall

Everyone was looking out into the hall from their rooms, wondering what the heck had just happened, and what was happening now.

They had all felt the floor and walls tremble, had all felt the magical pulse resonate from the second year dorm room as, most startling of all, they heard a young voice, who they quickly learned was Harry Potter, roaring on about something, only to be silenced by the Headmaster's voice…

McGonagall stood in front of the door, looking slightly worried.

The older students knew why, and wondered what had caused this magical explosion.

"Professor?" Ron asked.

McGonagall's lips thinned as she turned and faced the students in the hall and those peeking out from their rooms.

"Professor, what happened? Should I get Madam Pomfrey?" Percy asked, going past the others in the hall while acting dignified and in control.

"No, Mr. Weasley. The Headmaster is handling things, and if medical help was needed, we would know," McGonagall stated.

Percy looked to his youngest brother, the twins just a few feet away, wanting nothing else but to interrogate him for answers, but knew it was not the time.

Whispers sparked, but were instantly silenced by a stern look from McGonagall. Though it didn't really matter because time went surprisingly fast, and everyone nearly jumped when the cracked door finally opened, the only man Voldemort ever feared stepping out.

"Albus?" McGonagall asked.

"He is alright now, Minerva. Madam Pomfrey doesn't need to be called. However…" He turned his attention to those in the hall, everyone wondering what had happened to cause the Headmaster to pay a visit to the second year dorm, and what would happen now.

"I need to speak with all of you," he said.

The boys, from first year to seventh, glanced at one another, before looking back to the old man in front of the shattered door, who was wearing deep, blue robes with neon sparkling stars and twirling constellations. But despite the minutely ridiculous outfit, he was looking much more serious and imposing than most of them had ever seen him being.

"Let me start by telling you I do not want to hear any talk about tonight, rumors expanding to absurd proportions, or any rumors at all for that matter. Is that understood?" he asked, the tone in his voice and the spark in his eyes leaving no uncertainties about how strongly he felt about this, while giving a small glimpse into why Voldemort himself feared him. "Good. Now, as I am sure many, if not all, of you are wondering by now is what happened, so let me explain. What we all felt was a backlash of Mr. Potter's magic."

The eyes of those listening widened, instantly wondering what had caused that, though the twins were pretty sure they had a good idea of what the reason was. They were pretty observant, and, if their pranks were any indication, pretty dang smart.

"I do not think anyone can fully grasp the burden that are on those who suffered at Lord Voldemort's hand, directly or otherwise," he said, his eyes glancing ever so slightly upon Neville (who, Dumbledore quickly noted, was holding Revlis) before looking at the Gryffindor boys at large. "We all know what happened to Mr. Potter all those years ago and I will assume we have not forgotten, so let me state simply that it came with less than pleasant dreams. This is what caused the magical surge, and I doubt anyone here can truly understand the effects of such memories…

"Mr. Potter does not need rumors or pity, he does not want or deserve it; so I ask, as brave, honorable Gryffindors, give him what he does…understanding, which is what we all want, need, and deserve."

His eyes scanned the boys and young men before him, their eyes telling him he had affected them the way he had wanted.

"Alright, any questions before we all go to bed?" He figured that was a fair question to ask, it would also help quell any desire to 'discuss'/gossip later.

Oliver Wood and the others looked at each other, wondering if anyone would actually ask anything. Finally, it was Oliver who first gathered the needed amount of courage to ask a question.

"Professor, what should we do if this happens again?" he asked.

Dumbledore gave a soft smile, approving of how Oliver's question focused on how they could help if, or rather when, this happened again.

"Go get Professor McGonagall. Don't try to wake Mr. Potter because he won't. Mr. Ronald Weasley and his other dorm mates know what to do. Due to their quick thinking, Professor McGonagall and I were alerted in time," he said as Percy slowly rose his hand.

"Yes?"

"How bad can this 'magical backlash' really get? Could Mr. Potter just take a potion to prevent them?" Percy asked, for the first time that year, saying something not fully pompously.

"Mr. Weasley, I do not think you fully comprehend the suggestion you are making," Dumbledore said gently, recalling his own deep thoughts concerning the subject the previous year.

"Long term consumption of potions can cause a number of negative effects. You are also bringing in the possibility of dependency, with or without the likelihood of Mr. Potter's body becoming immune to the potion—and that's if it even works correctly to begin with. Curse scars are uncommon enough, but Mr. Potter's…. No. Potions are not safe when it comes to this, and may even make things worse. I am not willing to risk that," Dumbledore stated, surprising the Gryffindors with his obvious conviction.

"As for the severity of possible future occurrences, I am under the firm belief only inanimate objects are harmfully affected. In light of this, I shall be fortifying certain objects in the dorm, including the window and door."

"Professor…last year… It wasn't really the ghosts, was it?" a fourth year asked after a moment, there being only one event he could be referring to.

"No, it wasn't," Dumbledore stated solemnly, his answer alone telling them all the real cause of the previous year's shaking tower event.

Everyone paused, most thinking along the lines of, "Man… to deal with such things, probably as far as you can remember… And yet Harry tries his best to be like everyone else, never flaunting who he is…"

After a few more seconds of thought, even the older students, who barely ever saw Harry, found themselves thinking about him differently. He was still the Boy-Who-Lived for the most part to them, but now they realized something.

He needed help, their help. And so they decided, right then and there, they would give it to him. Dumbledore was right, they would be brave, honorable Gryffindors… they would watch over their own.

Finding everyone was thinking things over, Dumbledore decided it was time for bed.

"If any of you have any other questions concerning this, bring it to either Professor McGonagall or myself in private. I am sure Mr. Potter will hear of this discussion later from you four," he said, looking to Ron, Neville, Dean and Seamus, "later, in the comfort of your dorm. So, if there is nothing else, I think we all should go back to our beds and count some multicolored sheep."

So they went back to their dorms, McGonagall wondering what they would tell the Gryffindor girls. It was very likely, like last time, the pulse had reached the girl dormitories as well. Walking out of the Dormitory, Minerva looked closely at Albus.

He seemed different, like he had learned something he wishes wasn't true.

"Albus? What is it?" she asked as they entered her living room.

Dumbledore put up a second layer of privacy wards and protections (this room already having one layer) and turned gravely to McGonagall.

"Harry has Voldemort's memory of that night to a degree I had never thought possible. He obtained the man's very thoughts and feelings, it's no wonder he reacts so strongly…"

"What does this mean, Albus?"

"I don't know."

He sat down, rather heavily it seemed to McGonagall.

"What was he yelling?" she asked.

He looked up at that.

"His voice was heard from the hall?" he asked, clearly shocked and worried.

"Well, not clearly. But it was obvious he was very mad."

"But you didn't hear any part of what he said?" he asked.

"No, it was too garbled."

Dumbledore looked relieved.

"No sound should have been able to get out of that room. I had placed wards and protections to ensure that, or so I thought. But at least it worked enough."

McGonagall took a seat in the chair beside the fireplace and across from him.

"Albus, we all clearly heard you yell his name," she said after a moment.

"I was afraid, Minerva. I was afraid for him," he said. "He was yelling at Voldemort, getting angrier, and his magic was responding just as strongly."

"Well…" McGonagall said, her voice a little tense. "That is quite understandable, after what the boy must have experienced."

McGonagall paused, able to gather that was not everything.

"What?"

"He knows Minerva. He knows the unfair task that was laid upon him the moment Voldemort cast that curse."

McGonagall took a moment for that news to sink in.

"Perhaps this is for the best. I can't even begin to imagine how he would have felt if he learned this too late and found that you had kept this from him, whether for his peace of mind or not. I know you too well, Albus. I know you would have kept this secret for as long as you could," she said.

"You are right… I would have."

"So what now?"

"I told him I would help him in every way I can, and I will."

"We all will," she said.

Dumbledore nodded with a small smile, a glint of determination in his eyes.

Meanwhile, in the second year Gryffindor dorm, the boys were sleeping peacefully, having decided they would talk about everything the next day in the Come and Go Room, and hold another meeting of the Custosae — for more change was about to come.

- - -

A/N: Again, for those of you who review (kindly and honestly), -thanks- each of you help me improve and type faster. :)

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