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

Questions Concerning:

Polyjuice-glamour Pill impact on Harry: Harry's body and magic has come accustom to it, and because the problem he now has was gained when he was under its affects, using it will have very little impact on him.

As will be explained in this part, what will cause Harry trouble will be an excess of magic surging through his center (thus affecting/stopping the beat of his heart). Hope that answered such questions adequately.

A/N: Thanks for all the thoughts, questions, and reviews ^^ Enjoy :)


- - - Book 4 — Part 1: The Calm

Sirius looked down at the front page of the Daily Prophet. Things were happening, that was for sure. Eight members of the Wizengamot had stepped down the previous night a few hours after the 'emergency meeting'.

Earlier the day before, Sirius had been notified by the Custosae with a letter from Mage himself stating that he would be making an appearance at the Ministry and that he, Sirius, should be ready to answer some questions if the public asked. Mage outlined some information Sirius could share, and a summary of what he would definitely be covering at the Wizengamot.

As of yet, no reporters had sent him any questions, but at least he was prepared. However, after what had been put into the paper, there wasn't any need to ask questions. Mage had already answered them and laid everything out.

Sirius smiled, picturing the people stuck in their ways in the Wizengamot nearly having heart attacks when Mage appeared and said what he had. He liked Mage's style. Wasn't afraid of shaking things up, and, the best part of it, he could get away with it — after all, who in their right mind would want to tick off Mage?

From the corner of his eye, he caught the fireplace flare green. Getting up, he made his way to the flames to find Dumbledore's face.

"Albus, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Sirius asked, quite cheerful.

Dumbledore suddenly looked regretful, before looking resigned.

"Sirius, could I step through? I'm afraid I need to speak with you about something rather serious."

Sirius' eyebrows rose a little at that, clearly not having expected such a grave tone from the usually hyper Headmaster.

"Sure, Albus," he said, stepping back to allow him through the floo.

O o O o O

Teddy giggled as he watched Harry organize the plethora of rune notes around the bed. They, as in Vince, Neville, Susan, Hermione, and Harry, had been diligently working on a new project. It, of course, involved runes, and the complete network would line the rim of their robes and other desired clothes.

Thanks to the conversation on ancient warmages between Ron and Draco on the train, they had decided adding an extra layer of protection on themselves wasn't a bad idea, particularly after what Voldemort had done to Harry and how Harry's magic had decided to form a 'vest of armor'.

"Ok, I think I got them all. Now I just need to put them in order and then send them to Hermione and the others to double check and perhaps improve," Harry said, holding the stack.

Reorganizing them, he got them in order and then pulled out his wand. Easily making four more with a copying charm, he nodded to himself.

"Kreacher!" Harry called.

"Master has called Kreacher?" Kreacher asked with a bow.

"Yes. Could you deliver each of these while making sure you aren't seen by anyone other than whom the package is for?" he asked.

"Of course, master," he said, taking the four stacks, Harry keeping the original.

"Thanks," he said as Kreacher vanished with a sharp pop. "Well, hopefully by the end of summer we will all have vests of protection. Those runes do take a bit of focus to imprint on cloth, though. We will have to decide what sort of clothing to put them on and how much we want to invest in this."

"Will I get a vest?" Teddy asked, his eyes wide.

"Sure, if you want one," Harry said, not at all surprised by Teddy's question.

After tidying up his room a bit, he headed downstairs, Teddy immediately jumping on his foot for a safe ride down.

Upon stepping on the landing, Harry turned and headed to the living room; however, he soon stopped at the threshold. Dumbledore was there, sitting beside Sirius, as if consoling him after telling him some rather grim news. Remus was there was well, standing by Sirius' shoulder, though it looked as if he was having trouble himself, emotionally.

Harry's heart clenched, fear spiking within him. He could feel his magic beginning to swirl within him, his chest tightening, almost painfully, from it. Had there been an attack? How had he not been notified? Had someone gotten hurt . . . killed?

He remained frozen in the archway, Sirius' quavering shoulders telling Harry he was very close to tears, if he wasn't already silently weeping. Dumbledore was still, his old hand on Sirius' shoulder as he whispered something in his ear before he paused and turned his head, his eyes instantly meeting Harry's as if having sensed his presence.

Sirius startled, no doubt realizing Dumbledore had looked up because someone had just entered the room. However, for whatever reason, he didn't turn to see who it was. Whereas Remus closed his eyes for a long second after he looked over to find Harry watching them. He looked haunted.

Harry took a little step forward, not knowing if he should first apologize for intruding or ask what was wrong.

"I can't, Albus," Sirius whispered roughly.

Had Harry been breathing any louder, he would have missed Sirius' plea.

Dumbledore gave Sirius' shoulder a pat, before standing up and moving away from the couch, his eyes solemn. He left his cane resting against the side of the couch.

Remus slowly moved around and took the spot Dumbledore had previously been to sit beside Sirius.

"Harry, why don't you come here?" Dumbledore asked, motioning to the chair a few feet to his right.

Harry obeyed, dreading and anxious to hear whatever news Dumbledore had for him. Coming to the chair, he glanced at Sirius and Remus again. Sirius looked up, his eyes so afraid and sad it seemed to have altered his eyes' true color. Harry was certain his godfather was in shock. Remus looked choked up, his eyes slightly puffy from fighting back tears.

Harry looked back up at Dumbledore, who gave him a soft nod to the chair. Harry sat down, Teddy clamoring up into his lab as Harry wringed his hands.

"Has something happened, sir?" Harry asked, his voice nearly cracking.

Dumbledore gave a soft sigh before doing something that took Harry by surprise. Stepping forward, Dumbledore kneeled down in front of him, before taking both of Harry's hands in his own.

"Your friends are safe; nothing what you are thinking has happened, my boy. Voldemort hasn't attacked, to my knowledge, today."

"Then, what is it?" Harry asked, sparing another glance at Sirius, who suddenly stifled back a sob with a cough.

"Do you remember what happened at the end of your first year at Hogwarts?" Dumbledore asked, his voice so soft Harry wondered if he was charming his voice to prevent it from shaking, or worse, cracking.

"Yeah. Quirrell tried to kill me."

"And do you remember what he had done to try to accomplish this?"

Harry slowly nodded, recalling the curse that had wreaked havoc on his arteries and heart. He could still recall the shearing pain that had raced up and down at his center before darkness had claimed him. He stopped himself from imagining the bloody internal mess he had barely managed to live through.

"When you had returned to Hogwarts after the attack on Hogsmeade, Madam Pomfrey of course examined you, as I am sure you remember," Dumbledore said. "She did a full body scan and looked it over thoroughly. Not surprisingly, she found the scars from Quirrell's curse in and on your heart, but she also found something else that is of great concern. For whatever reason, perhaps due to the powerful patronus spell you had cast coupled with the trauma of being surrounded by the dementors, your heart is now saturated with your magic. Your ribcage is as well, but we are not as concerned with that as we are with your heart. The damage caused by Quirrell has worsened this condition, because scar tissue allows more magic to pool."

"What does that mean?" Harry asked.

"The heart is not meant to be so close to or in contact with magic all the time. It can conflict with the rhythm of the heart. Now, at this time, Madam Pomfey hasn't detected any worrisome affects of the magic near and in your heart, however, she strongly feels that this will instantly change if you cast a powerful spell, such as Expecto Patronum."

"Are you saying my magic could kill me?" Harry asked, Teddy now leaning heavily against Harry with his soft fuzzy arms supportively resting on Harry's left forearm.

"Yes, Harry," he whispered, his voice now clearly strained. "So you are going to have to be aware and mindful of your feelings, Harry, and keep them controlled to prevent your magic from reacting at all or as strongly. Any surge of magic could be extremely dangerous for you. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded, his golden-ringed green eyes focusing sharply as they met Dumbledore's. "I still have things to do. I will not allow myself to die until I have truly lived."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, sparkling like wild firecrackers as he gave Harry's hand a squeeze, his own emotions churning, their intensity evident in every wrinkle of his face. Giving a small smile, Dumbledore looked back to Sirius and Remus, who seemed to be over their despair, for the most part.

"Pomfrey and Severus are working on a possible solution, and I hope a friend of mine will help as well, but until a solution is found, precautions must be taken," Dumbledore said, looking back at Harry. "I feel it is imperative you continue using magic. Not doing so may cause your magic to build up further in your heart. However, you must stay away from spells that cause your core to flare, sending an excess of magic through your center. There are some spells in the first through fourth year curriculum that fall under this," he said, reaching in his robes and taking out a folded piece of parchment. "Knowing how you and your friends like working ahead, I also took the liberty to include spells you are not to use that are fifth, sixth, and seventh year spells. As you could probably guess, there are not a great deal of spells that are going to be restricted, since they all fit on one foot of parchment, but even so, know that any spell you cast could become dangerous if you put too much behind it."

"I understand, sir," Harry said, taking the offered page.

"If you experience a shortness of breath, have a sudden pain in your chest or in one of your arms, or if you feel any sort of discomfort in your chest that lasts for more than a minute, immediately let someone know. These are symptoms of a heart attack."

Harry eyes widened a little. Those symptoms were a bit too close for comfort, sounding startlingly similar to things he had experienced a few times since he had returned to Gryffindor Tower, the most recent being when he had entered the living room. Dumbledore spotted his reaction and came to a reasonable but troubling conclusion.

"You've already experienced them," he stated.

Harry shrugged a little, not knowing how to answer but unable to outright lie to Dumbledore's face, even if it might remove some of his worry.

"Harry, please, we must know," Dumbledore said, almost pleadingly.

"Earlier, when I came in here, I thought something bad had happened, and, well, my magic sort of stirred like it used to, only it was tight and inside," Harry admitted, the realization his heart was truly experiencing trouble suddenly striking him like a punch to the stomach.

Harry closed his eyes, not wanting to believe this was actually happening to him as the possible consequences of what this meant came to the forefront of his mind.

He heard movement, but at the moment didn't care.

How was he supposed to destroy Voldemort if he couldn't use powerful magic? How could he continue being Mage if it meant overpowering a spell, intentionally or otherwise, might end his life?

Would he have to give his life to end this war? Was the cost of bringing about a time of peace going to be his hopes and dreams of a future that included him?

He had never really thought about failing before, or not being around after the war had ended. Were all of his plans of changing and improving the Wizarding World after Voldemort was dead and gone now null and void? Was he going to be dead and gone too soon?

Were his rather giddy thoughts of someday having a family nothing more than wishful, unrealistic thinking? His thoughts of maybe becoming a father and raising children in a home far better than the one he had had with the Dursleys just mere dreams of a dead man-child walking?

"I don't want to die," Harry whispered, his voice hollow as he felt tears beginning to pool behind his eyelids.

He felt himself pulled forward into an embrace, the feeling of a silky beard by his ear telling him who had initiated such contact as he felt two other hands come to rest on his shoulders. Sirius and Remus. He felt Teddy squirm about slightly, before managing to come to rest comfortably between his arm and Dumbledore.

Harry gave a near silent sniffle as he felt Dumbledore begin rubbing his back.

"You're not going to die, Harry," Sirius whispered right beside him. "Not if we have anything to say about it."

O o O o O

Arthur Weasley knew something was up. His children were acting . . . strange. It was almost as if one of their beloved pets had just died or something, but not quite. It went deeper than that. The twins were oddly quiet, and Ron and Ginny looked as if they were deep in thought.

He learned Percy was just as confused as he was when he asked if something had happened he hadn't been told about. Percy told him he was just as clueless.

Arthur tried asking Ron about what was wrong, but all Ron did was look up and stare at him with wide eyes as he hastily said, 'nothing,' before dashing up to his room, Ginny and the twins following soon after.

What was going on?

O o O o O

Ron heard Ginny enter his room, the twins coming in not long afterward, as he kept his back to the door. He had never felt so helpless in his life.

"There must be something we can do," he whispered, the twins casting a privacy ward about the room.

He picked up the sheet of paper Harry had recently sent them (via Kreacher express) — the list of spells not to be cast by Harry, written by Dumbledore's own hand.

Ginny and the twins slowly approached.

"Yeah, but what can we do?" Ginny asked. "We're not healers, and though some of us know much more about healing magic than most other people, we're not experienced enough to even begin treating this."

Ron traced a spell on the parchment with his finger.

"Maybe we can't help with Harry's heart, but there is something we can do," he whispered as he looked up to the twins. "You think you're up to working with Greg, Draco, and Luna?"

"Yeah—"

"Sure."

"What will we—"

"be doing?"

"Improving these spells. Making variants of them that will be safe for Harry to cast. Most of these would be very helpful to Harry if he could use them. Since we can't remove the handicap, we can at least remove obstacles."

"Ron, you're brilliant!" Ginny cried.

The twins glanced at each other, before looking back at Ron and snatching the page from his hands as they said together, "We'll get right on it."

O o O o O

Griphook had never felt like this before, at least toward a human. Worried.

He had just finished speaking with Harry, his people's hope to a good future, having contacted him after learning some disturbing information.

Someone had broken into Bellatrix Lestrange's vault, and by the condition it was now in, the would-be-thief had been a bit upset, clearly not having found what they had expected to be there.

It did not bode well, particularly since the dud Cup of Hufflepuff had been blasted apart, fragments imbedding themselves in the walls, ceiling, and floor, as well as the other items in the vault.

What was even more troubling was that only one other person had ever successfully gotten into a vault and left unharmed and unnoticed before. Voldemort. Griphook would bet his long nose that it had been him again, and the dark magic residue all over the inside of the vault was a pretty big clue as well.

Oh yes. Voldemort now knew someone was after his horcruxes.

Griphook inwardly shuddered as he thought about what the Dark Lord would do once he realized all of them had been eliminated, and by whom. It wouldn't be that hard to determine. Mage had clearly been aiming for Nagini when they had fought, and Voldemort would quickly realize that could only mean one thing. It was probably why he had taken the time to break into Gringotts to check on the cup.

So now he would be certain Mage knew about his horcruxes, and that Mage was the one destroying them.

Griphook sighed, the fact he was totally alone the only reason he allowed himself the release as he once again tried not to think about Harry's troublesome heart condition and the storm that was sure to be coming.

O o O o O

It was night, but Harry couldn't sleep. After his 'meltdown', as he decided to call it, Sirius, Dumbledore, and Remus decided to give him some time alone, but only after assuring him they would be there if he needed anything. Dumbledore went as far as saying he would drop everything at the Wizengamot or even a meeting with the Minister if Harry needed him.

Harry was thankful, though he doubted he would ever call Dumbledore and need him to ditch any sort of important meeting.

After accepting his health, or as much as anyone is able in such a situation, he contacted the other Custosae, informing them what was going on. He also sent copies of the list Dumbledore had provided him to them, so they would know what he couldn't do. Telling Hagrid was perhaps the hardest, since soon after he told Hagrid, the half giant collapsed into sobs after several seconds of trying but failing to hold it in. The others waited until after they were off the mirrors to release their emotions.

Speaking with Hermione (calling her again after contacting the others), they discussed revealing the whole truth to some of the Amici, particularly Sirius and Remus, considering their high positions in the Custosae and Amici network and their relationship with him, Harry. In the end though, it was decided to wait it out and not tell them. They honestly didn't know how serious Harry's condition was, and acting prematurely while (at the very least) slightly emotional would not promote good decision making.

And so, Hagrid remained being the only adult (besides Rook, of course) who knew Mage was Harry. For any other adult, they would treat Harry differently the moment they learned, and Merlin only knew how they would treat Mage afterward. Sure, Hagrid had been there since the founding of the Custosae, but even if he hadn't been and had recently learned the truth, Harry would still be Harry, and Mage would still be who he needed to be for the Custosae — the Head.

Harry nodded to himself. Continuing to keep Mage's identity a secret from all non-Custosae, at this time, was the right choice. Doing anything else would be premature.

Harry looked down at Teddy, who was quietly resting against him. Teddy looked so sad.

Teddy couldn't do anything to help. He was unwilling to risk hurting Harry (or worse) in trying to shift the chaotic magic out and away from his heart. He was also afraid what damage forcing the magic to vacate his heart would do to him even if the process was completed without a hitch. His heart had been operating this way for weeks now. Who knew what would happen if the magic it had grown accustom to was suddenly no longer there?

And so, Teddy was now feeling worthless and helpless, however, as Remus pointed out, he would still be a great help to Harry if Harry's magic began to get out of hand suddenly for some reason. This helped Teddy's frustration some and put Harry's mind at ease a little.

And then there was Griphook, who gave him, if possible, graver news.

Voldemort knew Mage was after his horcruxes. And now that he knew, what would he do?

What should he, Mage, do now that he knew Voldemort knew?

Harry closed his eyes, his thoughts whirling about, before suddenly, and sharply, a memory surfaced. He would never understand why certain memories surfaced before others, or why some waited so long to come, but he did know, when they did come, they came when they were needed.

He was in a furnished room, standing behind a stout man who was beside a crackling fireplace. The man turned, his eyes coming to rest on him with a quiet, pleased pride.

"Look sharp, Tom, you don't want to be caught out of bed out of hours, and you a prefect. . . ." he said, gently swashing his drink around in his glass.

The name 'Horace Slughorn' came to Harry's mind as Riddle spoke.

"Sir, I wanted to ask you something," Riddle said.

"Ask away, then, m'boy, ask away."

"Sir, I wondered what you know about . . . about Horcruxes?"

Slughorn stared at him, his glass now being held very loosely in his hand. He was very close to spilling it. "Project for Defense Against the Dark Arts, is it?" he asked.

Harry could tell Slughorn was hoping it was as simple as that, despite knowing, deep in his heart, this was not schoolwork — for his eyes held a nervous, hidden (albeit subconscious) fear.

"Not exactly, sir," he said. "I came across the term while reading and I didn't fully understand it."

"No, well… you'd be hard-pushed to find a book at Hogwarts that'll give you details on Horcruxes, Tom. That's very Dark stuff, very Dark indeed," said Slughorn.

"But you obviously know all about them, sir? I mean, a wizard like you — sorry, I mean, if you can't tell me, obviously — I just knew if anyone could tell me, you could — so I just thought I'd ask —"

Harry wanted to slap a palm to his forehead. Tom certainly knew how to manipulate and con people. Perfect amount of everything — flattery, humility, curiosity, hesitancy. . . .

"Well," said Slughorn, not looking at him, but fiddling with a ribbon on a box Harry quickly identified as a box of crystallized pineapple. A gift Riddle had given him quite recently. "Well, it can't hurt to give you an overview, of course. Just so that you understand the term. A horcrux is the word used for an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul."

"I don't quite understand how that works, though, sir," he said, his voice so precisely controlled it personified a perfect student's tone simply desiring knowledge for 'knowledge's sake'.

However, Harry, being in Riddle's shoes, could feel young Riddle's excitement growing — anticipation of ultimate power, gaining immortality and starting the path to 'true' greatness.

"Well, you split your soul, you see," said Slughorn hesitantly, "and hide part of it in an object outside the body. Then, even if one's body is attacked or destroyed, one cannot die, for part of the soul remains earthbound and undamaged. But of course, existence in such a form. . . ."

Slughorn's face scrunched, almost painfully, and Harry found himself recalling the last memories of Voldemort he had gained from that night — being struck with the reflected killing curse, and feeling himself being ripped from his body.

"few would want it, Tom, very few. Death would be preferable."

Harry himself wanted to throw up as he felt Riddle's emotions of greed and triumph upon finding 'the escape' from death — victory over death and a safeguard against those who would try to get in his way.

"How do you split your soul?" Tom asked, becoming noticeably eager.

"Well," said Slughorn uncomfortably, "you must understand that the soul is supposed to remain intact and whole. Splitting it is an act of violation; it is against nature."

"But how do you do it?"

"By an act of evil — the supreme act of evil. By committing murder. Killing rips the soul apart. The wizard's intent upon creating a horcrux would use the damage to his advantage: He would encase the torn portion—"

"Encase? But how?"

"There is a spell, do not ask me, I don't know!" Slughorn said, shaking his head and looking mortified. "Do I look as though I have tried it — do I look like a killer?"

"No, sir, of course not," said Riddle quickly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend."

"Not at all, not at all, not offended," said Slughorn gruffly. "It is natural to feel some curiosity about these things. Wizards of a certain caliber have always been drawn to that aspect of magic."

At those words, Harry felt Slughorn was hiding something, and he knew Riddle had gathered that too, through Legilimency. But Harry, through powers of observation (since he couldn't use Legilimency in a memory), also had a slight inkling that Slughorn personally knew the dangers and evils of horcruxes.

"Yes, sir," said Riddle. "What I don't understand, though — just out of curiosity — I mean, would one Horcrux be much use? Can you only split your soul once? Wouldn't it be better, make you stronger, to have your soul in more pieces? I mean, for instance, isn't seven the most powerful magical number, wouldn't seven —?"

"Merlin's beard, Tom!" yelled Slughorn. "Seven! Isn't it bad enough to think of killing one person? And in any case . . . bad enough to divide the soul . . . but to rip it into seven pieces. . . ?"

To Harry, Slughorn looked downright sick (bad memories perhaps?), and quickly began digging for some sort of peace of mind.

"Of course," Slughorn muttered, "this is all hypothetical, what we're discussing, isn't it? All academic. . . ."

"Yes, sir, of course," said Riddle immediately.

"But all the same, Tom . . . keep it quiet, what I've told — that's to say, what we've discussed. People wouldn't like to think we've been chatting about horcruxes. It's a banned subject at Hogwarts, you know. Dumbledore's particularly fierce about it. . . ."

"I won't say a word, sir," said Riddle, making his way to the door.

Harry forced himself not to think about Moaning Myrtle as Riddle paused, stopping at the door and turning back to Slughorn. "It will be our little secret. . . ." he said softly.

Harry opened his eyes and focused back on reality to find Teddy hugging his chest.

"I'm okay, Teddy. My magic didn't stir, I don't think," Harry said, pretty certain.

"It did some, but it wasn't bad. I didn't have to do anything," Teddy said as Harry patted the little bear's back.

"Well, that's a relief. If my magic can stay fairly calm after seeing that memory, seeing Riddle's other memories shouldn't cause much of a problem, if they are to surface," Harry said, quite relieved.

"That's good," Teddy agreed.

"Teddy, I need to speak to Dumbledore about what we've recently learned. He also might need to contact someone to, at the very least, warn them if my hunch is right," Harry said, glancing at the time. It was 11pm. "I was Mage yesterday, so I should be alright."

Teddy nodded. "Yeah."

With that, Harry carefully cast the necessary spells (thankfully, none were on the list) and took the polyjuice-glamour pill, before taking hold of the mirror. Relaxing his face, and reminding himself that he was Mage now, he activated the mirror.

"Long Beard."

Unsurprisingly, Dumbledore's face soon came into focus.

"Mage. Is everything well?" he asked, slight concern bleeding through.

Evidently, Harry hadn't relaxed his face enough before activating the mirror. . . .

"I have just received information from Rook. A vault at Gringotts has been broken into. Bellatrix Lestrange's vault. It had once held the Cup of Hufflepuff, which, as you know, was one of Voldemort's horcruxes. Well, it is clear that Voldemort wasn't pleased when he discovered the cup resting in the vault was not his and that the one he had previous left there was nowhere to be found.

"Voldemort knows, Albus, and it will only be a matter of time before he seeks retribution."

Dumbledore heaved a heavy sigh. "Voldemort will probably be checking his other hiding places before doing anything."

"Well, that will certainly make him angrier. Especially once he learns someone went to a great deal of trouble getting the locket from that bloody cave."

"Cave?"

"A cave he liked to torment children at when he was very young. He turned it into a cave with a cursed lake infested with Inferi."

"Pleasant," Dumbledore said, sarcasm dripping heavily.

"He seems to think so," Mage said roughly.

"Did you . . . go there?"

"No. Someone else did. Regulus Arcturus Black."

"Sirius' brother?"

"Yes."

"That is certainly interesting."

Mage nodded.

"Have you received any other information?" Dumbledore asked after a moment.

"Yes. I've received information that a former professor at Hogwarts may be in danger, now that Voldemort has learned his secret is no longer a secret. Voldemort will believe it is because of this professor that I learned the truth."

Dumbledore's eyes widened, quickly putting the pieces together. "Horace, you didn't. . . ."

"He did. At the time, he didn't know, believed Riddle was just a curious student. Perhaps he even believed telling Riddle the truth about horcruxes would deter any further desire in Riddle for that sort of knowledge. He was clearly wrong. I think he realized it the moment Riddle asked if making seven would be possible."

Dumbledore decided not to ask how Mage knew what he did as he suddenly wondered if this was how other people felt when he 'magically' knew things.

"I will contact Horace as soon as I can, I may even offer him his former position as Potions Master since I'm sure Severus wouldn't mind helping Stephanie teach Defense," he said, with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Mage decided to appear he didn't notice Dumbledore's playful tone as he simply nodded in agreement.

"Do you have news for me?" Mage asked.

"Yes, and I am sorry to have to bring yet another problem to you, but you have a right to know, and I hope you or one of your allies might be able to help."

"Yes?" Mage asked, his eyes sharpening slightly.

"Harry, it seems, has been dealt another crummy hand in life. Relentless (Pomfrey) carried out a thorough scan of him and found his heart has been saturated with his chaotic magic, no doubt caused by the events in Hogsmeade and worsened by a previous injury. I am certain you understand how dangerous this is for him?"

"Yes," Mage said, unconsciously placing his free hand over his heart. "Yes, I do."

"Mage? Are you alright?" Dumbledore asked, able to see part of Mage's hand from the mirror.

"I'm sorry, Albus, I was caught in my thoughts for a moment," Mage said, refocusing. "I will tell my people to begin looking for a solution to this, though I honestly don't know how much help we will be. Forgive us that we did not catch this problem before we returned him to Hogwarts."

"It is no one's fault, Mage, least of all yours. If it is anyone's fault, it is mine," Dumbledore said, guilt thick in his voice. "Harry has experienced a great many troubles because I failed to protect him."

Mage frowned.

"And for this new problem he is facing, I should have fought the Ministry harder in not allowing the dementors anywhere near my students. If I had . . . things would probably be better for him right now. But I failed. I once again failed Harry, just as I do every year."

Perhaps it was due to all the sudden stress he had experienced that day. Or perhaps he just couldn't stand someone he so looked up to talk about themselves that way, especially when what his mentor was blaming himself for had nothing to do with what he had or hadn't done.

And so, for whatever reason, Mage snapped.

"Now that is just complete hippogriff dung, Albus! If it weren't for you, the bloody soul suckers would have been at the gates of Hogwarts! Can you imagine how different the battle would have been then? Not to mention how I might not have had the chance to take out Nagini?

"As for you supposedly failing Harry, time and time again, Harry is old enough to make some rather serious decisions, and though he is a . . . child, surely you have realized by now he understands there are consequences for his actions? No one set him up or forced him into the Forbidden Forest to help Little John. No one dragged him down into the chamber with his companions to rescue a future friend. And though he had little choice in the matter at Hogsmeade, he still chose to fight, even though that meant he would become a target rather than another body among the fleeing masses.

"Beating yourself up over things you can't control or couldn't have known about is just plain pointless. The only one who is at fault here is Tom Riddle! Yeah, sure, there are things many people, myself included, could have done differently to improve the outcome of certain events, but not all of us are gifted with Sight, and even if we were, it would no doubt turn into a bleeding nightmare — Trelawney — Grief."

Mage ended his rant, personally surprised his magic hadn't reacted; though, Teddy was hiding right behind his back. Calming himself, he quickly realized Dumbledore was utterly speechless and astonished.

Mage cleared his throat, understandably embarrassed. "I apologize. I'm just saying that all we can do is do the best we can at the time, and fretting over it afterwards will only distract us from present issues."

"Quite alright, Mage. I am just not accustom to hearing necessary reprimands at my age."

"Er, yes. Well."

Dumbledore smiled. "It's nice to have someone willing to chew me out. I have many good friends, but being who I am deters most people from knocking some sense into me." He paused for a moment, as if deciding something. "It's nice to have a friend who I know will keep me in line and accountable."

Mage returned the smile. "Well, being comrades in arms sort of implies friendship."

"Of course."

There was a comfortable, albeit strange, silence for several seconds, before Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Hippogriff dung, Mage?"

"It was something I heard awhile back, and it sounded like an appropriate thing to say to express my thoughts on how dumb you were being," Mage defended.

"Quite," Dumbledore said, amused, while at the same time wondering if Mage had once been an old friend of Filis George Fudge.

"Well, it is getting a little late. Is there anything else we need to discuss?" Mage asked.

"Yes. It's something that has recently been brought to my attention. A few years ago, the Ministry had begun making plans of having Hogwarts host a Triwizard Tournament, but, understandably, due to Voldemort returning, they canceled it. Well, evidently, a surprising majority of the international community has expressed a desire to have something else held at Hogwarts — this year if at all possible."

"Oh?"

"They have proposed a unique program where a select group of students from three different schools attend Hogwarts for six weeks. After the six weeks, those three groups return home to be replaced by another three groups from another set of magical schools a week later."

"What brought this about?"

"No one has said it outright, but it is pretty clear the main reason is because of a powerful wizard who has taken a firm stand against dark wizards and bigotry," Dumbledore said with a glint in his eye.

"You're teasing me, aren't you?" Mage asked as Dumbledore continued without missing a beat.

"The leaders of neighboring wizarding nations have taken notice of the events here and have petitioned for this program 'encouraging international cooperation' to be carried out. Wizarding nations as far as Eastern Asia and the Americas also want to participate and have added their names to the list. They want to show they support the ideals of the man leading this 'reformation' in Britain and want to encourage and stand behind him and Britain in the war against Voldemort, whose dark activities have begun affecting other countries."

"Have they taken into consideration that Voldemort has attacked Hogwarts before and so might do so again? Do they really think it wise to paint a glowing target on a location groups of foreign students will call home for six weeks? After recent events, surely they recognize the danger of doing that?" Mage asked.

"As I am aware, that point has been raised. So it has been decided that if this is to be carried out, the parents of students given the opportunity to go will have to give their consent. They will be fully informed of the risks and the benefits," Dumbledore said, before becoming quite serious.

"In all honesty, I don't know if this is a good idea or not, Mage, which is why I have brought it to you. With everything happening, I don't know if it would even be possible to take this on. It has a great amount of benefits, but it has just as much risk."

"Voldemort would try to use this to his advantage. We both know he is not above kidnapping and holding people for ransom, or just for some morbid 'fun'."

"I know."

"Alright. We both know all the negatives of this, what are the good things?"

"Well, the number one positive I see involves the wards of Hogwarts."

"How so?"

"Hogwarts is, in essence, alive. Her strength and power come from those who reside in her. Having children from different parts of the world, who are taught different magics and in different ways, come and stay for a time will give Hogwarts a new burst of magic, giving the wards a new layer of defense — or offense, which ever the case may be."

"Hmm, that could be helpful. With the cultural differences and varying magic disciplines that will no doubt be introduced, the students will also benefit from the experience, no matter where they're from."

"It will also keep up the morale of the Wizarding World. Hosting big events and encouraging interactions between people improves overall relations and spirits."

"This could bring in possible allies for us," Mage said.

"But we must be careful. There could also be unforeseen enemies," Dumbledore reminded.

"I think, in the long run, this could be very good for the future of Hogwarts, as well as the future of other magic communities. This could even become a new tradition. I could see, in future years, Hogwarts hosting a single six week program during each term."

"The possibilities are endless."

"It could be worth the risk," Mage said, thinking.

"I won't fight hosting the program at Hogwarts then, but will wait and see how it develops. However, I will, of course, ensure certain precautions are placed."

Mage nodded in agreement. "I believe that would be for the best."

"Agreed. Well, I believe this will conclude tonight's discussion?" Dumbledore asked, receiving Mage's nod soon after. "Good night then, or rather, good morning. We are a formation of defenders."

The mirror faded.

O o O o O


A/N: I need about ten or so magical school names and their locations from all over the world. I figured it would be cool to allow readers to give their ideas here. Thanks in advance ^^

Next part: The Storm