Chapter 14: In the Office of Albus Dumbledore

Harry Potter stopped briefly to put his wand in the wand hostler at his calf and continued to follow the two men toward what Harry could only guess would be the headmaster's office. Snape looked back at Harry and glared sharply, and then just as suddenly turned around and kept his gaze on the floor of the hallways as they walked. The whispering seemed to get unbearable, as Harry met under the scrutiny of the accusing stares of the portraits. He seemed to realize that the rumors his fight in the Slytherin house would be soon greatly exaggerated and reach epic proportions. Such was the way rumors and wild embellished stories worked. Harry decided he had made a big mistake by calling so much attention to himself.

As the three kept pace in a line, the Bloody Baron floated toward Harry, and whispered softly in his ear, "The reputation of Slytherin is ruined because of you." But the Baron did not seem particularly annoyed. Rather he was indifferent. "This displeases you?" asked Harry as his thoughts whirled around in his mind. What punishment would Dumbledore give toward him? Detention? Expulsion? They all seemed possible. Harry wanted to be at Hogwarts, he wanted to learn and interact with the other children and grow in his powers, as he knew only fine schooling and good education could do so. But he knew he would not mind terribly if he did get expelled. He could always go to another school to study magic. Besides, he already knew enough magic and could always learn more through books and self learning.

They reached two stone gargoyles that looked horrendously ugly, like fierce monsters. Dumbledore leaned down, wincing as the joints in his back cracked and made popping sounds. He whispered something in one of the gargoyle's ear, and stepped back. The two gargoyles spun away from each other in unison, revealing a hidden entrance. The dark tunnel had a round staircase going upward. As the three climbed the stone stairs, Harry felt the cold seep into him. These stairs were colder than the dungeons even. Reaching a red wood door, Dumbledore opened it with a silver key the size of Harry's hand, and they piled into the office one by one. Harry felt a rush of warm air burst past him as he entered.

He took a seat in front of the desk, a hard chair with a purple cushion resting for comfort. Dumbledore took his place in front of the desk, in a plush armchair, while Snape stood glaring down Harry's neck from the corner. Dumbledore opened a drawer of his desk and pulled out a silver tray, which he levitated toward Harry in an impressive display of wandless magic. Harry particularly liked the control Dumbledore had over his magic. Taking two of the lemon drops, Harry wondered if they were laced with a potion. He watched Snape reluctantly accepting a few when Dumbledore offered. Before opening the candy wrapper, Harry watched Dumbledore carefully put his lemon drop in his mouth first and then Harry judged it to be safe and followed suit. The sour tangy taste gave him a rush of energy and further concentration, as well as a feeling of great calmness. Harry was sure they were laced with a potent… yet harmless… substance.

"Harry Potter, I must admit I am quite surprise at your display of magic in the Slytherin common room. It is astonishing that one your age can take on several seven year students. For that display of skill, I award Slytherin House ten points," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes twinkling like stars. Harry had not forgotten how Dumbledore had tried to pry into his mind and succeeded barely a few hours before. He fought to keep his shields up but found it difficult to do so in the office. The place lulled Harry into drowsiness despite the energy rush of the lemon drop.

Snape growled behind him, "Headmaster, I refuse to have Potter in my house. He is not suited for Slytherin. I cannot-"

"You are right of course," Dumbledore said gently and placatingly, and at once Snape stopped in mid tirade, surprised despite himself. "We will have to switch your house, Harry, for you remaining in Slytherin is a bad idea. You have made too many enemies there already, some of whom who already had a grudge against you for… other reasons."

"Do I get a detention or something, Headmaster?" asked Harry, his voice breaking like a woman in tears. He did not know why, and wondered if it was the lemon drop's effects upon him. "I mean-"

"No," Dumbledore said, and glanced sharply at Snape, shaking his head slightly. "No detention, no punishments of any sort. But you will need to pick a house to transfer into. I suggest Hufflepuff."

"Why?" asked Harry, "Why not Ravenclaw?'

"You'll make true friends there, Harry, loyal friends who will help you when you are in need. And you will gain a good work ethic. Hard work is a treasured virtue."

"I agree," proclaimed Snape loudly, sneering, "Hufflepuff will be the perfect house for a Potter."

"It is not strange for a headmaster to switch a student's house. It has happened before, especially when the student has been under attack, or under unacceptable aggression like you seem to be in Slytherin." Dumbledore said, as if clearing away the confusion of changing Harry's house. "I hope you understand that this is nothing unusual."

Harry nodded, and strengthened his occlumency shields because he had been thinking just that. "Sir, can I go to the Hufflepuff common room then? I need to get some sleep. It is my first day of classes tomorrow after all"

"Why certainly, I shall announce it to the Hufflepuff house myself. Come, I will accompany you and show you the statue that is the entrance to the common room. If you will please follow me, Harry. Severus, see to your more injured students." Snape walked out in a hurry as if eager to get away from Harry. Dumbledore smiled at Harry, showing glinting white teeth between parched thin lips that were a pale red, almost whitish and crinkled like parchment, from old age.

As they walked Dumbledore made small talk with Harry and subtly tried to gather more information about Harry's life. Harry tried to tell him as little as he could but the questions Dumbledore asked were subtle and penetrating and Harry found himself outmatched in this diplomatic conversation game. Dumbledore had years of experience over him. The old man learnt that Harry had been taken under a wizard guardian from the orphanage and tutored in magic as a child. But when Dumbledore asked directly who was the wizard guardian, Harry stayed silent. He could not let Dumbledore know the wizard was a death eater. Dumbledore accepted the silence with practiced ease and continued on with the conversation. "What are your hobbies?" he asked.

"I like to fly," Harry said. "On a broom I mean. I think I'd like to play quidditch."

"I'm sure we can arrange for you to get on the house team. Meet me for a cup of tea during your afternoon break tomorrow. Your new head of house, Professor Sprout, will be delighted. I hear the Hufflepuff team needs a new chaser."

"Me sir, but I'm only a first year," said Harry, astonished. "I mean, I sure would like this but I don't think the other students will be too happy." Harry wondered what Dumbledore was playing at and tried to analyze Dumbledore's comments but the only thing he could glean from it was that Dumbledore was trying to bribe him so he could get closer to Harry and learn more. In fact, Harry guessed that was probably what Dumbledore was trying to do.

"You underestimate your fellow students Harry," Dumbledore said jovially, "When they see your natural talent I'm sure they will accept you. Your father was a Chaser you know."

"James?"

"Who else," said Dumbledore, eyes narrowed in suspicion, as if contemplating something large and complicated. It seemed more of a question than an apathetic rhetorical statement.

"And my mother?" asked Harry, he was curious despite himself. He had always wanted to get to know his real parents and Dumbledore presented a good opportunity for Harry to learn some background information about whom he was and where he was from.

"Lily Evans, she was a bookworm. Like you I imagine. She should have been sorted into Ravenclaw. She loved books. I do too as well and we had many conversations together. It is quite surprising that two booklovers such as we two both got sorted into Gryffindor." Dumbledore said.

"Then why not put me into Gryffindor, where my parents went?" asked Harry, "I mean… shouldn't we continue with it, seems to me like it's a tradition."

This time it was Dumbledore's turn to be silent. Harry took up the mantle of continuing the conversation. "So, what else can you tell me about my parents?"

"James was a wild rogue, a great prankster," Dumbledore said, happy to talk, "He loved a good prank, but he was also a fine student as well. As sharp as they come. He was best in transfiguration, he even became an animagus."

"An animagus? For real?" asked Harry, surprised. "When?"

"When he was barely a fifth year he finished his animagi training and became a stag," Dumbledore said, "I knew of course, though he thought it was a secret. I was never so proud of any other student in all my life."

"I would like to become an animagus," Harry said wistfully, "Can you teach me how? I read that you were a transfiguration teacher. Are you an animagus?"

Dumbledore smiled and shook his head, "I never bothered to undergo the training. I have no use for transforming myself into a bumblebee – that is my animagus form. You can find out yours through a potion."

"But- Maybe you have a few books on it?" Harry asked. They reached a white statue of a badger nailed to the center of the wall of a narrow corridor on the second floor.

"Loyalty," whispered Dumbledore, and the statue's eyes glowed blue, and swung aside like the gargoyles. The wall seemed to melt, revealing a tunnel like structure. "Go inside, Harry, my bones can't stand the crawling."

Harry nodded, "Perhaps we can discuss more about animagus tomorrow?"

"Perhaps," Dumbledore said vaguely and turned and walked away with lightning quick strides until he had disappeared around the corner, his white robes billowing much like Snape's robes.

Harry crawled into the hole and heard the badger statue close behind him. He got out at the end of the dark tunnel, into a comforting and extremely large cavern with many doorways leading to a maze of rooms. It was dark; other students were obviously sleeping. Harry went to a sofa, and sat in it. He used his wand to light a fire in the fireplace, and watched the flames crackle, going deep in thought.

He cursed his foolishness; Dumbledore had completely outplayed him in their conversation, and Harry had been turned into a little boy who hanged on his every word. Dumbledore had expertly manipulated him from the quidditch carrot bribe, to the cup of tea tomorrow, to his parents and the animagus forms… giving little hints but nothing substantial. It was only on reflection that Harry realized how well he had been played upon. He doubted a normal person would have even known how Dumbledore was drawing them into a trap, but Harry knew.

He simply knew. One of the qualities of genius was a deep and profound intuition, where upon lightning quick answers would arise in the forefronts of the mind. His mind was telling him how he had been drawn into a trap, hook, line and sinker. Now he had to find a way to get out of it. He fell into a restless sleep and soon it was morning judging by the crowing of the roosters from the fields below near the Forbidden forest.

He awoke to someone shaking him. "Potter? What are you doing in our common room?"

He blinked open his eyes and saw the face of a prefect looming before him. "Who are you?" he said and then yawned loudly. He got up to his feet, "What's your name?"

"I'm Cedric Diggory," the boy said. He offered a smile and a hand to shake. "Good to meet you Harry." Harry shook hands with the boy and then told him a summarized version of last night, how he had been under attack by the other Slytherins and had "chosen" to move here. He put in a bit of flattery too, thinking it might not hurt his chances to get in the good books of the Hufflepuff House.

Cedric patted Harry on the shoulder, "You'll do fine here Harry, we may not be particularly brave, intelligent or ambitious, but we work hard to make up for what we lack. You'll make good friends in this house, and I must say, its good to have you, Harry."

"Thanks," Harry said. He pulled out his trunk and enlarged it, and took out a pair of robes. "Where's the shower room? I want to wash myself up before breakfast." Cedric pointed to a doorway with a sign above the white door in the image of a showerhead. "Oh," Harry said. "I didn't see that."

"Most don't until it's pointed out to them, one of the quirks of the Hufflepuff house. Did you know that the badger is the hardest working animal alive?"

"Wow, didn't know that," Harry said, not interested. "Listen, I'll go take a shower and then we'll talk more, okay? I need somebody to give me a tour of this castle, if you're willing to help me that is."

Cedric beamed with pride. "No problem Harry. We'll meet up at breakfast. I'm a chaser for the Quidditch team by the way. Well not yet, but there's an opening, and the captain, Mark Skidmore, told me I have the position."

Harry mentally sighed. "Wow, that's good to hear. But you know there's a bit of a problem with that," he said. "I'm pretty good at quidditch myself, so I think I'll have a go at that position too."

Cedric laughed and ruffled Harry's hair. "Firsties aren't allowed to play quidditch," he said. Then he turned and walked away into his own dormitory to prepare for the first day of class. Harry went into the shower rooms and started up a spray of scalding hot water. He soaked in it, and let all his tensions and stress disappear. He tried to clear his mind of all thoughts. Hogwarts was a very stressful situation. He had another dilemma now. If he did get the chaser position, he would be ostracized from the Hufflepuff house for sure. Yet if he didn't, he wouldn't be able to distinguish himself and gain more power over the students.

Then he wondered, did he want to gain more power at the cost of friendship? Did he even know what friendship meant? As he scrubbed his tangled hair with shampoo, he wondered what having a friend would be like. He hadn't ever had one before.

He dried himself off with a conjured towel, and then changed into a fresh pair of robes before going down for breakfast. Most of the students were already eating and when Harry entered the great hall, heads turned, not in a good way. Whispers abounded in a chain reaction, and suddenly the two Weasley twins came and dragged him to the Gryffindor table, laughing jovially, "It's not everyday that a little firstie kicks half of the Slytherins' asses!" said one of them, and the other twin chuckled merrily. "You should have been placed in Gryffindor!"

"The hat said I would do good in this house," Harry lied, as he sat down next to them. He introduced himself to the Gryfindors, and met the acquaintance of several of the older students. "Dumbledore transferred me to Hufflepuff," he said, "That's a good house?"

"No its not," quipped Ron Weasley, "Its full of doofuses!"

"You're a doofus yourself, Ron," said Fred, "Don't make fun of Harry's new house. He's a hero!"

Harry laughed along, and nibbled on a scone and took sips of tea as he nodded at the twins' numerous never-ending jokes and made trivial conversation with the others at the table. Dumbledore, he knew, was looking at him, happy, amused, eyes twinkling.

"So, what's classes like?" asked Harry to nobody in particular. A cacophony of shouts and talking arose to answer Harry's questions. The twins put their hands up, and immediately the group around them silenced. Then, attempting to look serious, one of them said: "Horrible Harry. You have to do all sorts of nasty things-"

Harry looked into George's eyes and attempted a legilimency attack, a real one. A subtle one. He probed deep inside George's mind and found the pranks he played on people, and the ambitions he and his twin had to start a joke shop. Memories floated by as he absorbed it into his own mind. He looked for the memories of the teachers and found McGonnagall, always angry at them yet amused at the same time, Sprout the herbology teacher, fair and nice, Snape, the meaneast teacher alive who had a particular hot spot for the twins, and of course Albus Dumbledore. The old man, Harry learnt, invited the twins to his office often to discuss pranks, and even helped plan some with the twins. That was a surprising tidbit of information. Then Harry came across the map, Padfoot, Prongs, Moony, and Wormtail's Maurader's Map. He learnt they didn't know where it was from except they had flinched it from Filch's office a few years ago. He suddenly had an idea. Hardening his gaze, Harry said, "I want my map, George."

George pulled back, surprised. "What map?" he said, playing innocent. Though his eyes showed he was extremely uncomfortable with where this conversation was going.

"The Maurader's Map," Harry said. He knew he would need the map later on, because Hogwarts would be his home territory and if Renaud ever showed up to kill him or kidnap him, he would need every advantage. Plus, if he wanted to sneak into the Restricted section in the library to learn how to be an animagus, he would definitely need a map such as the one the twins had. "It's my property by right. My father and his friends made it," Harry said, lying out of his teeth. He was quite sure his father had never made such a thing.

"Your father?"

"Padfoot," Harry said, "He's my father, and his friends too."

"He made the marauder's map?" Fred asked, incredulously. They got up and Harry along with them, and unanimously went over to a corner to have a hurried whispered conversation in which the Weasley twins expressed their undying admiration for the pranksters known as the Marauders, and how they wanted to follow in their footsteps. Then, looking at one another, and nodding, Fred pulled out a yellow with age piece of parchment. He handed it to Harry, "If you know all about the marauder's map, you probably know how to work it right?"

Harry recognized that this was a test. He could pass it easily because the twins were not good at legilimency. He looked deeply into Fred's eyes and then found the required sentence. Tapping his wand on the piece of parchment, he said, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." Fred and George gasped because they probably did not think Harry was telling the whole truth.

The parchment changed to a map, which Harry studied carefully. "Interesting," he murmured. "Thanks Fred, George," he said nodding at them. Then he turned and started to walk away. One of them put a hand on his shoulder, "Listen," said the twin, "If you ever need anything, just ask us, alright?"

"Yeah, thanks," Harry said distractedly as he pocketed the map after saying Mischief Managed. He had finished his breakfast and decided to go to class. First he needed a time table. Luckily, Cedric came and handed Harry the time table, "Professor Sprout told me to give you this Harry."

Harry looked at it, and saw that he had Transfiguration first along with the Ravenclaws. Then he had potions with the Slytherins. After lunch, herbology with the Ravenclaws, and the day ended with Defence against the Dark Arts. And that was only for today! Tomorrow he had flying lessons as well. The curriculum at Hogwarts was obviously intensive. Harry wondered if he would find it easy or difficult. Logic told him it would be easy, but the part of him that was still a boy, still inexperienced and underage, was worried.

At least he got a valued map, by lying and stealing, but he did not feel the least bit guilty about it. He reflected on how much power legilimency gave him. It was getting easier the more he did it, until he thought it would be almost second nature to scan a person's surface thoughts. He wondered if this is what Dumbledore did to his students and decided, probably it was. Still, legilimency afforded the user a lot of information, and information was power. Using the right information, Harry had gotten a priceless artifact that he could use to exploit Hogwarts. Everything and everyone was under his surveillance with this map, including Albus Dumbledore. If he were ever going to kill the old man he would need this map. He knew he would need to learn a lot and train harder than ever, and he probably wouldn't be ready until his seventh year, and that was only if he worked as hard as possible and gave his all to learning and becoming more skillful.

He also wanted a group – a core group – around him like Voldemort's death eaters. A group of skilled students he could trust to protect him. He had plans of taking them under his wing, making them his own followers and then in time – years down the road – he could start his own… organization ala Voldemort or Grindelwald. Then he realized something important, he would never find anybody of skill and inclination to the dark arts in Hufflepuff. They would obviously be loyal to the light side no matter what. Same with Gryffindor. Only Ravenclaw and Slytherin posed the possibility of developing a group around him. And who had kept him out of Ravenclaw? Dumbledore. The old man was a master chess player, only he played with human lives. And he was good at it too.

He entered the Transfiguration classroom, and found he was late. He had been lost in his thoughts. Thankfully the teacher was not there yet. There was only a cat glaring at him from atop a desk. Harry looked blankly at the cat, and took a seat in the back of the room. The cat immediately transformed into an older woman, namely Professor McGonnagall. She was an animagus, thought Harry in surprise. He leaned in closer to pay attention. "Harry Potter, nice of you to join us. However you are late. Two points from Hufflepuff for tardiness."

The Hufflepuffs glared at him angrily, and Harry smiled back weakly. Why did the point system matter? It was so idiotic. He didn't say anything in reply and instead settled back as the professor began her lecture. She talked about transfiguration, an introduction and how they would be changing needles into matchsticks or something and then at the end of the year they would be able to change one object into another.

Harry was awestruck. He was stupefied. He was completely and utterly unimpressed. This was it? He could do this when he was five. He remembered how Mr. White would teach him something like this in a day what Hogwarts would teach in a year, judging by the curriculum. Mr. White would of course use a mild pain curse if Harry took too long to master a spell. Sometimes a crucio curse if Harry complained whatsoever. Tough love. Then he wondered if he should play his skills down a bit, or should he simply show what he could do. If he showed how talented he was, he would immediately get respect from the students, and perhaps invite their jealousy and envy as well. However if he kept a low profile he could keep his skills hidden and thus be underestimated by his future enemies, as well as Albus, whom Harry was sure had eyes everywhere. The transfiguration assignment was ridiculously easy, though Harry copied the unskilled boy beside him.

Minerva tsked at Harry and said something along the lines of, "I thought I should have expected better of you…"

Harry sighed. His life was filled with problems lately.