Chapter 9

The office of the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was never devoid of sounds. Not necessarily the sounds were those of scratching of a quill on a parchment; or a page of a tome being turned; or even the gentle harmonious snoring that came from the portraits of the previous heads of the school where the occupants were to be always found sleeping.

The sounds one first experience were those of the shuffling wings of a large bird. Fawkes, the Headmaster's phoenix, who sits upon a perch right to the side of the Headmaster's desk, was never the quietest being when he was not approaching his burning day. Like the flame of a fire, he was always in motion. Also, like a dying fire, his movements at the end of his cycle of rebirth, resemble that of glowing ambers – still until stimulated by the wind's caress.

The next set of sounds to attract the guests would be the various knickknacks on the side table. Those silvery gadgets, whose uses were lost to any save the old wizard, were always making noises. Whirling, buzzing, tinkling. Some were even heard to mention that those unnamed gadgets work as the eccentric wizard's own supportive audience by their emittance of clapping, laughing, sighing, snorting and other assorted sounds. One hapless victim… er… guest, was once found at the Three Broomsticks down at the village of Hogsmeade immediately after he met with the Headmaster. He was there for a pick-me-up with quite a large amount of firewhiskey. He appeared very disturbed after the said meeting and from his mutterings, it was gathered that one of the gadgets cackled just like that mad woman, Bellatrix Lestrange, and quite literally, scared the shit out of the man. Nobody knew the truth of the rumour but Madame Rosemerta, the buxom owner of the pub was often heard to curse the Headmaster under her breath for his penchant for scaring the uninformed men who dares to pit their non-existent wit with the aged warlock. One would think that a man like Dumbledore would be above pulling such pranks, but like many stories surrounding him, none could completely discard this one rumour also.

Currently, the two guests of the Headmaster – famous Magizoologist, Master Newt Scamander; and the equally, if not more, famous student – Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, were found sitting in front of the Headmaster's desk with eager and anticipating looks on their faces. But the man himself, Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, was reclined in his seat, looking out of the window and quite lost in his thoughts. The aforementioned bird and the assorted gadgets were emitting a quiet cacophony of noises. It was after one particular noise of a loud snore that made Master Scamander jerk in his seat and clear his throat –

"Er… Headmaster?"

"Hmm?" The old man was broken out of his reverie, "Oh, do forgive me. In my old age, I often tend to get lost in my thoughts. What was I saying?"

"Um… you said that you have an idea about what is happening to me." Harry supplied.

"Uh, yes, right you are, Harry." Dumbledore smiled at the boy before his face took on a serious mien, "Tell me, my boy, the memory where we saw your hair regrow back in its original state, did something like that happen again?"

Harry frowned in thought, "Not to my knowledge, sir, no."

"Can you think of any incidents where your nails changed shape, or perhaps, your skin changed its colour?"

Harry confusedly looked at the two men, "Um… no sir."

"Where are you going with this, Headmaster?" Newt had his head cocked to a side, he was also thinking hard. Dumbledore gave him a nod of assurance.

"Tell me, Harry, did you ever become shorter or taller? A little more, to be completely clear, fatter than your current physic?"

Harry slouched down in his seat, he was a little sensitive about his scrawny frame, "No, Professor."

Dumbledore leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk and his bearded chin on top of his clasped hands.

"You never had an incident where your emotion caused you to change the colour of your hair? I mean, when you were feeling anger or sadness?"

"Uh… no. But I turned my school teacher's wig blue once." Harry replied with a small smirk.

Dumbledore chuckled at the answer, "Amusing, but not quite the answer I am looking for, dear boy."

"Okay," Harry replied confusedly.

Dumbledore nodded, seemingly coming to a decision, "Do you know what a metamorphmagus is, Harry?"

Beside him, Harry noticed Newt Scamander sucking in his breath and leaned forward eagerly to listen to his answer.

"No, Professor," Harry said morosely. Frankly, he was getting fed up with himself. It had been two years since he was reintroduced to the world of magic. And he had accumulated dangerously low knowledge about the world, its people and its customs. He never realized how scarce his knowledge was because Hermione was always beside him. Even when she was petrified, she provided him with the knowledge about the basilisk and how to find it. Harry made a decision right there, he would try to learn more. It shouldn't be difficult for him. He used to hide in the library to escape from Dudley and his friends. And to pass the time, he read any book he could get his hands on. Maybe he should take a leaf out of Hermione's book and start to read for pleasure, or 'light reading' as she called it. And he would drag Ron with him kicking and screaming if the redhead didn't want to.

"Metamorphmagus are certain wizards or witches who can change their appearance with a mere thought." Dumbledore started his explanation, "They can become taller or shorter, thinner or heavier. They can change the colour of their skin as well as their hair, length, style and all. In other words, a metamorph is a person who can become anyone if they desire so."

Harry listened with rapt attention, "Wow! That is a cool power to have. Is there anyone like that currently in Hogwarts, Professor?"

"I am afraid not, my boy." Dumbledore got up from his chair and went to a bookshelf. He looked at the titles on the spine and pulled out a thick and heavy tome from the shelf. He returned to the desk and shuffled the pages till he found what he was searching for. His finger traced the lines of the book as he continued his speech –

"Metamorphs are extremely rare. Only a few families in the wizarding world could boast to have that ability in their family. Out of all those families, only a single one was from Britain. Even then, the ability was lost to the family until very recently. I would say that person was the first in nearly five centuries to show the ability. She was a Hufflepuff alumnus and passed her NEWTs the year you returned to us." He looked up and gave a boy a mischievous smirk, "I dare say that you have seen her around the school but not the same as always."

Harry tried to think back to the time of his First Year. Did he see someone like that?

"That girl in the 'Puff quidditch team, the beater! She always had different and strange coloured hair. She was a metamorphmagus?"

"Indeed she was, dear boy. Young Miss Tonks has since joined the Auror Academy, and if what I hear is correct, is about to become a fully trained Auror herself, trained under my old friend and the famous Auror, Alastor Moody."

"She sounds so cool! Wish I had talked to her when she was here." He shook his head.

"She is also your distant cousin…" Dumbledore said, with regret heavy in his tone.

That stole the wind from Harry's sail.

"Er… beg your pardon, Professor? I thought you said she is my cousin?"

"She is. She is very distantly related to you, through your father's side of the family."

"But… but I thought I had no family left except Petunia…"

"Petunia is your mother, Lily's sister. Whereas young Nymphadora and her mother, Andromeda were cousins to your father, James."

Harry had his head bowed. Outwards, he would appear to be a sad and weak little boy. But Albus knew better. Harry Potter was a powerful wizard. Both of his parents were powerful in their own rights. James – a Transfiguration prodigy along with his natural ease in Defence. Lily – a skilled Potions mistress as well as a Charms mistress. Harry was their able progeny. He had shown his tremendous aptitude in both Transfiguration and Charms. He had excelled in Defence despite the subpar teaching in that subject for two continuous years. And Albus was quite sure that if it was not for Severus' grudge, Harry would have shown equal grasp in his Potioneering too.

"Why?" A growl made the old wizard stand straight.

"Why was I placed with the Dursleys if I had other families available?" Harry raised his head. His emerald eyes were shining like twin flames.

"Why was I left to those abusive bastards when I had magical relatives who could have taken me in? Why was I made to go back to that hellhole each year? Why do you insist I go back there?"

With each of his questions, pressure built up continuously inside of the room. The knickknacks on the desk started to vibrate. From some unknown source, a wind started to blow. Harry's hair whipped about in the wind as his eyes started to glow. Dumbledore discreetly removed his wand from his sleeve but Scamander jumped up.

"Harry! Harry, you must stop. You are scaring Pickett!" He reached over and grabbed his shoulder.

Harry snapped his head towards the man, his lips curled upwards revealing a set of fangs that shouldn't be inside of a human mouth outside of werewolves, and that too during the day and not a full-moon night.

"Pickett, Harry! Look," he pointed towards the boy's shoulder, where the aforementioned bowtruckle had perched himself. Harry looked at his shoulder to find the poor thing was indeed cowering behind his upturned collar and trying to fend off the buffeting wind by grabbing the collar with his spindly fingers. Miraculously, the wind died down in a fraction of a second and the boy calmed down from his agitated state. Although, he was panting from exerting so much magical energy.

"Er… sorry, Professor." He said in between big gulps of air.

"It's understandable, lad." Newt patted his shoulder. "Here, pop it in your mouth, it will help calm you down." He handed him a piece of Honeyduke chocolate. Harry took the offered sweet and broke it in half, offering a piece to the chittering green being on his shoulder.

"Here ya go, Pick, sorry about earlier. Friends again?"

Pickett the bowtruckle shook his tiny fist at the boy in agitation before snatching the peace offering up and settling down on the shoulder he was taken to stay on to enjoy the sweet.

Newt didn't leave his side even when Harry had calmed down. He chanced a peek at the Headmaster to see the old man too was looking at the boy with sorrowful eyes.

"Harry, why don't you go for a fly-around? We will continue our discussion once you are back."

Harry swallowed the chocolate before replying, "I don't have my broom with me, Professor, and I don't think the school brooms we learned to fly on can support my weight now."

Newt chuckled, "They still use those kindling to teach the Firsties to fly, eh? Don't worry, I always carry my own. It may not be very fancy, but it will do the trick." He brought out a shrunken broom from his pocket and enlarged it.

"Wow! A Comet 260? And you said it's nothing fancy?" Harry looked at the man with disbelieving eyes, "this release of the Comet series was one of the most reliable ones of its contemporaries. 0-60 within ten seconds, the first-ever broom to incorporate the hovering ability. First-ever to maintain a fine balance between speed and control till the Nimbus 2000 came out. This broom was the preferred broom for every quidditch team in the last decade."

"Enthusiastic little thing, aren't you?" Newt chuckled.

"I'll have you know, sir, that I am a Lion Seeker for two years counting," Harry replied with mock indignation, and in a tone that wouldn't have been too unfamiliar down at the Slytherin common room.

"And I was a Badger Chaser for five years." He took a swipe at his head and missed as the boy ducked snickering. "Do not try to teach your elders, you scamp. Now go on, take the best broom from the last decade out for a trial."

"Yes, sir!" Harry jumped up to his feet. "Pickett, you wanna come?" The bowtruckle chittered something that was only eligible to the youth, "Alright, but you best keep a good grip on." He took a running jump through the open window of the office. Newt almost ran to the window in concern but even before he reached the window, Harry had mounted the broom and was speeding towards the Quidditch Pitch whooping as he went.

"You have no idea what you were trying to do, have you?" Newt asked the still silent old man without turning from the window.

"I wouldn't have cared if I was the only one in this room, but I couldn't take the risk with you present," Dumbledore admitted.

Newt turned to face his old teacher, "So you planned to do what? Stun him? He is quite powerful from what I have seen so far, from being around him this day and from seeing his memories. He would have shaken off your stunner not feeling its effect at all. And then what? Were you prepared for the destruction of this part of the castle by his accidental magic? Add to that fact that he is an obscurial -"

"Harry is not an obscurial!" Dumbledore cut him off.

"I saw the manifestation of the black smoke of an obscurous, Headmaster." Newt looked down at his hands, "his relatives tried to repress his magic, his innate power. They abused him, made him almost hate the thing he was born with." He looked up to the aged warlock with steely determination, "I can't let him bear the same fate as Credence, Professor. I must help him."

"Newt," Dumbledore had risen from his seat and came before the man, "listen to me, my boy. Harry is not an obscurial. An obscurous, sad as their existence is, is a young person who has admitted defeat against insurmountable odds. They were broken beyond salvage to turn their very magic against themselves. Potters are not like that. They are defiant even in the face of absolute death. The Potter men I knew – Harry's father and grandfather, were the epitome of resilience. Harry's mother, Lily, was as strong-willed. If the boy is even the tenth of his parents, and I do believe he is much more than that, then he can't be an obscurial."

Dumbledore sighed as he came to a stop beside Scamander and looked out of the window. Both the men could see the young boy zooming around the Quidditch Pitch and pulling off numerous aerial stunts.

"I know that you think of me as a heartless monster concerning Harry, but believe me when I tell you that I was helpless at the time. You weren't here, Newt. You don't know the situation we had to face immediately after the fall of Voldemort. We had no idea who to trust or not. I had to do what I thought was the best for the boy at that moment. I will not ask him for forgiveness, but I will try to explain my reasoning to him and hope he understands. But that is not the pressing matter. We are in even more danger than I had thought at first."

"You mean that Horcrux we just saw in Harry's memories?" Newt hadn't taken his eyes off the distant figure of the boy flying on the broom.

Dumbledore looked at his old student with widened eyes, "How do you know of them?"

Newt sighed, "Professor, I do travel all around the world for my work, and I have seen all types of magic in my travels. Light magic? I have seen a Japanese witch sing to seed and make it take roots and bear fruits within five minutes. Grey magic? A snake whisperer in India made a poisonous snake suck its own poison out of a small child. Dark magic? An Inuit shaman once killed his apprentice so he could harvest his innards to curse the fields around the village of an opposing tribe." He turned to face his old professor and looked at him with glassy eyes, "I have even seen Black magic in action, Professor, A Voodoo priest, on the verge of death, transferred his very being into an unborn foetus. When the child was born, he absorbed the very life force of his mother, rendering her into a dried husk and stood as a youth in his prime, with all of his powers and abilities intact.

Magic is a beautiful yet terrible thing, Headmaster. I have seen it used to build a better world. I have also seen it used to alter the world into a nightmare. It is not magic I hold responsible, but it's wielder. It is upon a witch or wizard how they will use their power. By your accounts and of many I have heard so far, Lord Voldemort was a very powerful wizard. It is no wonder he would try something as dark as a Horcrux. I have seen it in work and being destroyed when I was in Egypt a decade or so back, helping an injured sphinx. So I ask you to not think of me as a mere First Year, and please, allow me to help that bright, young boy."

"Very well," Dumbledore admitted defeat, "yes, that diary was indeed a Horcrux of the wizard named Tom Marvolo Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort. I did have an inclination that Voldemort was not dead when I examined the mark he had given to his followers, the Death Eaters. If he was truly vanquished, then the mark would have faded into nothingness. But they merely faded. I knew then that Voldemort still lingered, I wanted to keep the only one who withstood his assault and came out alive, safe. Because there is a prophecy at play here, Newt."

"A prophecy?" Newt frowned, "how reliable is the prophecy?"

"It already started to work on its fulfilment as we speak, well, it started on its course the moment Voldemort decided to attack the Potters. But more on this later. Harry doesn't know about either the prophecy or the Horcrux. I want to give him what little remains of his childhood." Albus nodded his head towards the rapidly approaching figure on a broomstick.

"But -"

"I will divulge everything to him after he seats his OWLs, till then, please, keep this between us?" The old man pleaded.

Newt nodded his head in assent.

"Oh, and before he gets here, the black smoke you saw in that memory, it was not a manifestation of an obscurous, it was the destruction of an ill-formed and incomplete Horcrux trapped within Harry's scar."

Newt opened his mouth to reply but he was not able to because right at that moment, Harry Potter swooped into the room through the window and leapt off the broom he had lent to him.

"Comet 260 is brilliant, Professor Scamander, not as fast as my Nimbus but the controlling is way better. Basically, I think the Nimbus makers went for the speed while sacrificing the fine control. But it is still an awesome broom." Harry gushed, and Pickett chittered from his shoulder in agreement.

Newt laughed a little as he shrunk the broom back and put it in his pocket.

"I am glad that you enjoyed the ride, Harry. Now, I believe Professor Dumbledore has something to say."

Even as his smile waned a little, Harry turned towards the Headmaster, he shifted uncomfortably on his feet for a bit before speaking –

"Er… I am sorry about earlier, Professor."

Albus shook his head, "No, my dear boy, it is I who should apologize to you. Why don't we retake our seats and resume our discussion from earlier?"

After they retook their seats, Dumbledore began –

"I do apologize to you, Harry, for all of your sufferings. Yes, I decided to leave you in the care of your maternal aunt and her family. Also, I am to be blamed for not checking up on you at the time you were left there. If you will allow me to say my reason?"

Harry nodded.

"As you now know, I have always suspected that Voldemort is not completely gone. Which proved itself to be true in your First Year." Harry nodded again. "Back in '81, it was a very confusing time, Harry. Nobody knew whom to trust. The former head of the DMLE – Department of Magical Law Enforcement – Bartemius Crouch, had taken the fight to Voldemort and his supporters by enabling the Aurors to fight fire with fire, that is, he allowed them to cast the Unforgivable Curses in retaliation. But immediately after Voldemort's fall, it was revealed that Crouch's own son, Barty Crouch Jr. was a Death Eater himself. I don't need to tell you what that big a scandal can do to a man, even when he fought a brave fight on behalf of everyone in Britain."

Dumbledore took a deep breath before continuing, "That is only one instance to give you an idea of what a precarious position we were in at that time. After that night of Hallowe'en, keeping you safe was my absolute priority. I couldn't think of any family who could've kept you safe. So I decided to hide you from the entire wizarding world by placing you with your aunt. Yes, Miss Tonks and her family are your relatives through your father's side. But so were Mrs Tonks' sisters."

"Er… her sisters?" Harry asked confusedly.

"Mrs Andromeda Tonks was the eldest daughter of Cygnus and Druella Black. Cygnus Black was the nephew of one Dorea Potter, your grandmother. Dorea's older brother, Arcturus was Lord Black and father of Cygnus Black."

"Black as in Sirius Black?" Harry asked.

"Yes, Sirius was the eldest son of Arcturus Black's eldest son, Orion Black. In that sense, Sirius is also your cousin on your father's side. Anyhow, as I was saying, Andromeda was banished from her family because she married a muggle-born wizard named Theodore Tonks. Her sister, the middle one – Bellatrix, was married to Rodolphus Lestrange. She, her husband Rodolphus, her brother-in-law Rabastan and Barty Crouch Jr. were arrested not long after your incident when they were caught torturing an Auror couple – Frank and Alice Longbottom."

"Longbottom? They are Neville's parents, aren't they?" Harry asked, feeling quite sick.

"Sadly, yes." Dumbledore wiped off a stray tear from his cheek, "Both of you were deprived of your parental love within the span of a few days. You have lost your parents, whereas young Mister Longbottom didn't lose his parents, but the older Longbottoms are still under the care of the healers at St. Mungos. They have lost any of their outward senses, they don't even recognize their son, Neville."

Harry just sat there, he felt a few tears had also escaped the confines of his eyes just like the Headmaster. It was too painful to even imagine having his parents but them not recognizing him. In a sense, Neville had it way harder than him. His parents were dead, they were free from all the sufferings, but poor Neville had to see his parents fading out helplessly every day.

"Were they punished?" Harry's voice sounded rough, "the ones that put Neville's parents in that state, were they punished?"

Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, all four of them were given life sentences at Azkaban."

It was not enough, Harry thought to himself, it was not enough for Neville's pain to see his parents like that. It was not enough for Madam Longbottom to see her son and daughter-in-law like that. But it was all he could get at the time.

"Good."

Dumbledore frowned, "Was it though? To condemn living souls to the mercy of Dementors?"

Harry shook his head, "They made a pair of people not recognize their own flesh and blood, Professor, so excuse me if my heart doesn't bleed for their misfortune. You were saying about the Blacks, sir?"

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore shook himself off the cold feeling he received so suddenly from Harry, "While Bellatrix was married to Rodolphus Lestrange, the younger sister, Narcissa, was married to another of Voldemort's followers, Lucius Malfoy."

"Does that mean Draco Malfoy is my cousin too?" Harry said distastefully.

"I am afraid so," Dumbledore nodded, "but you'll be happy to know that you are also related to the Weasleys. Arthur's mother, Cedrela was also a Black before her marriage."

"The Blacks were quite a large family," Harry observed.

"At one time, yes they were." Dumbledore agreed, "Now, any of the Blacks who were not in the prison could claim an immediate familial relationship with you, had included Narcissa Malfoy nee Black. With her husband, Lucius, with his generous donations as well as having the ears of quite a few higher-ups at the Ministry, any ruling would have gone in favour of the Malfoys', or any other Dark-oriented families the Malfoys promoted. I am sure I don't have to tell you what would have befallen you if you went to those families."

Harry nodded, "I can see why you decided to leave me at Privet Drive. But why didn't you check up on me even once all these years? Why did you insist that I go back there every year?"

Dumbledore sighed, "This is where my age is the reason for my ignorance."

"I am afraid I don't understand, Professor."

"You see, Harry, I have lived over a hundred years. I was young when even muggles used horse-drawn carriages for normal transportation. At that time, the adage 'spare the cane and spoil the child' was the norm. I never paid heed to your pleas because I thought the Dursleys were just as strict as my parents had been with us. But it was not so. I never even thought that it was possible for someone related to Lily, one of the gentlest and caring souls I had the good fortune to know, would behave so horribly with their blood. I put faith where there should've been none. And for that, Harry, I am truly sorry. I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me one day."

It was a long time that it took Harry to absorb the Headmaster's explanations. In the end, he decided to accept the aged wizard's apology, but he still had one question to ask –

"Do I still have to go back to the Dursleys, Professor?"

"I am afraid so, my boy. As I have told you back in your First Year, when your mother tried to protect your life by sacrificing her own, she created an old sacrificial ritual, probably unknowingly, but then again, Lily was the most brilliant witch of her age, so it could have been a deliberate attempt. I can only assume that the ritual did work and left a mark upon you – your mother's protection to be precise. It was that which I told you that protected you from Quirrell. For the protection to remain intact -"

"Harry needs to remain in a loving household." Newt Scamander, who was sitting quietly and listening in had cut in. "Which those muggles can never provide him."

Dumbledore frowned, "You don't understand, Newt, Harry needed to remain with his mother's blood, in this case, his aunt to retain Lily's Blessing."

Newt shook his head, he had a very smug smirk on his face, "I am afraid it is you who doesn't understand, Professor. I daresay your theory about the entire thing is flawed even. While I don't disagree about Mrs Potter's sacrificial ritual affecting her son, your theory that the Blessing can only thrive while remaining with abusive yet blood relations is certainly unsound. The fundamental requirement of magic is intent. I can bet my last Galleon that Lily Potter never intended to have her son abused. She intended to have her son healthy, happy and alive which made the Blessing take effect. I also believe it was her Blessing which enabled Harry his amazing healing powers that we have seen in those memories. I mean, wizards do heal quite faster in comparison to the muggles, but even in magical, I have never seen anyone heal as fast as Harry does. It was the same Blessing which has been working hard for over a decade to keep Harry healthy despite the hardships. Can you imagine what it will help him to achieve if the boy has a loving environment to grow up in?"

"Be that as it may, I cannot stress enough the urgency that Harry needed to return to his home -"

"It was never my home, Headmaster," Harry's shout rang out and stopped the arguing duo, "The Dursley home was never my home, and it will never be so."

Too many things happened all at once. Once more, Harry's teeth became canine-like, this time there was an added growling in his throat; there was a loud snapping noise like a giant rubber band just got torn reverberated throughout the room; the Headmaster winced and jerked back into his seat; Newt Scamander laughed out loud as he leaned back in his chair with his arms folded over his chest, his expression was that of a man who had just won a wager; Fawkes let out a loud squawk and took flight from his perch. The phoenix took a round of the room before settling down on Harry's shoulder and trilled a beautiful melody.

"What just happened?" Harry asked confusedly, his features had morphed back to their normal state.

Dumbledore took a large gulp of air as he kept massaging his chest, "That was the collapsing of the ward I erected around the Dursley house. Your intentional declaration of refusing to call that place your own has made the wards implode beyond recovery."

"It couldn't have happened at a better time if you ask me." Newt put forth to the Headmaster's annoyance.

"We have been over this already, Newt -"

"No, Professor. We most certainly have not. Please, continue with your explanations, the day is not getting any younger for the amount of time you have spent explaining absolutely nothing so far. Harry's housing, as you said earlier, will be covered later."

After continuing his glare at the still smirking man for a moment or two longer, Dumbledore turned his head to the youngest person in the room –

"Ahem, as I was saying, your mother's Blessing over you is an unprecedented phenomenon. It is impossible for anyone now to discern exactly what she did within that house in preparation to grant you your chance of survival. But the magic indeed took effect and now you possess a quite brilliant healing factor. Then there were the numerous incidents you have encountered before and during your time at Hogwarts. Am I wrong to assume that you never treated those dog bites or those spider bites you've received back at your home?"

Harry overlooked the subtle push of admittance to call a place he detested as his home, "My relatives never cared for my wellbeing in their home, Professor. If I was hurt, they thought I would clean those wounds by licking them as does Marge's dog."

Dumbledore sighed once again, he was far from admitting defeat yet. Because in his mind, he was sure that Harry needed to return to the wards that he needed to again construct. Very painfully so, if Harry's vehemence is any indicator because previously, it was done without Harry's consent seeing he was just a toddler, but now, it was a whole different matter altogether.

"As it is, by letting you heal on your own, you have absorbed a little bit of their essence over the years, in forms of venom, saliva – what have you."

Harry frowned hearing that, "I have dog and spider DNA in me?"

"Uh, I have no idea what DNA is, but if it means you have little bits of those creatures in your system, then yes, you do. Not only that, but you have also absorbed undiluted troll blood in your system after your encounter with the troll in your First Year. Then the incident with the unicorn at the Forbidden Forest, where you have absorbed quite a large quantity of unicorn blood and tears. I am almost surprised that you didn't get anything from Fluffy the Cerberus at this point, but you did infuse yourself with tiny shards of the Philosopher's Stone at the end of that year."

Harry sat there contemplating what he heard. But the Headmaster was not finished.

"That brings us to your Second Year at Hogwarts. I didn't see any outward wound on your body when you quite literally crashed into the school ground. So I think it is safe to assume you didn't have any… what did you call it? DNA? – of the Whomping Willow in your body. But, you compensated for that by chewing Mandrake leaves throughout the year. It is truly quite strange that you didn't show any discomfort with this strange addiction of yours. But now that I think about it, probably Lily's Blessing is the cause of it.

Anyhow, Mandrake leaves are used, as you know, in Restorative Draughts. It is also used in Animagus Elixir where the drinker has to keep one single leaf stuck to the roof of their mouth for a month. It is done primarily to infuse the drinker's essence into the magical ability of the plant which has the power to make a body malleable to change. You had enough Mandrake leaves in your system to make yourself a Metamorphmagus if there were such magic in existence. Afterwards, your encounters with magical creatures such as acromantula, basilisk and phoenix, had left you, once again, with their venom or tears inside of you. Are you with me, so far?"

Harry nodded his head, although his head was spinning, he did keep up with the Headmaster's line of thoughts.

"Before I say anything else, I must ask you, Harry. It may sound strange to you, but it will make sense when I continue with my explanation." Dumbledore waited for the boy to acknowledge before asking, "Tell me, my boy, you wear your hair the same now as you did when you first entered Hogwarts. Do you always cut your hair that way?"

"Er, I never had a haircut, Professor. Well, other than that one time Petunia took a gardening sheer and shaved my head. It all grew back the next morning. All this time, I thought it is normal for wizards."

Dumbledore nodded, "Just as I thought. You do remember, I hope when I talked about Miss Tonks and her abilities?" Harry gave a single nod of affirmation, "Black family was the family to boast about that ability. Even though it didn't appear for centuries, it was always there and manifested in young Nymphadora. I think it is safe to say that it also manifested in you through your father's connection to the Black blood. Also, the Blacks were the other family to have the ability to speak Parseltongue along with the Slytherin family."

Harry's eyes widened, "You mean…?"

"Yes, Harry. I admit that I was wrong when I said that it was because of Voldemort you can speak to snakes, I didn't quite connect the dots, as they say, with your latent abilities due to your familial relation with the Blacks. You seemed to have been born with both of that family's traits – Metamorph and Parselmouth. Why? I have only an inclination. I believe that Lily's power, for she was a formidable witch with a magnitude of magical power, helped to awake the dormant abilities you possessed through your father's familial connection."

Newt interjected at this point, "You used to the term 'been' Professor. Does it mean Harry is not a Metamorph now?"

Dumbledore, even though he was miffed with the man, gave him a small smile, "You did catch that, didn't you? No, I am afraid Harry is no longer a Metamorph after all his encounters."

Harry, who had been thinking about the ways he could change his features so that he didn't stand out in a crowd, was slumped hearing that. "Oh?" There went his carefully nurtured dream (for about a minute) of not being the Boy Who Lived… poofed out of existence, just like magic.

"Yes," Dumbledore continued, "before I elaborate on that, I require another bit of information from you. Did you ingest the Polyjuice Potion that Miss Granger brewed?"

Harry paled. How did he know? – His mind shrieked at him. He tried to answer but couldn't form a single word. If it was just him, he would have admitted, perhaps. But It was about Hermione, and probably Ron too. He couldn't just throw them under the bus.

"What potion, Professor?" Even after saying that, he knew how lame it was. Because the Headmaster was well informed about their adventure into the Snake Pit.

Dumbledore sighed, "What you need to understand, Mr Potter, is that we take the welfare of our student body quite seriously. Dark Lord-induced incidents aside, Hogwarts does look after the safety of its students. Madame Pomfrey is one of the most respected Healers in this country. She only left her position at St. Mungos because I personally requested her and her desire to help the children. Between her, Professor McGonagall and myself, we are quite experienced to know the difference between a botched Transfiguration attempt and ingesting Polyjuice Potion with animal essence. Did you think you were the first to try that?"

Harry's ears burned, but he still didn't say anything.

Dumbledore leaned forward, "You have my word that neither Miss Granger nor Mr Weasley will be held responsible for what happened during the last academic year. But I do need to know if you ingested the potion."

Harry stared into the man's eyes defiantly, daring him to go back on his words as he finally opened his mouth –

"I wanted to know if Ma – somebody we doubted about being the Heir was the right person or not. And I did drink the potion."

There, he said it. He admitted to drinking a restricted potion, but he didn't condemn his friends and neither did he admit to brewing the said potion.

"Were you successful in gaining a different form through the potion?"

Harry gave a curt nod.

Dumbledore shook his head, "Your loyalty to your friends is admirable, Harry. But that was unnecessary in this situation. I did give you my word and so there won't be any consequences for the actions taken in the last year.

However, the reason I asked you for the potion is that it is entwined with your situation. You see my boy, for Metamorphs, Polyjuice Potion doesn't work at all. It is because of their inherent magic, the magic of the potion just washes over them, rendering the potion as effective as water. Similarly, Animagus Elixir also doesn't work on Metamorphs. Because their body is in constant flux, locking the system into one form, that is of an animal, is impossible."

Dumbledore stopped for a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing his speech –

"Another thing about the potions, that you will learn later in your NEWTs years is that there is very little difference between these two potions. The ingredients and the brewing steps are similar, except the Elixir requires a few more ingredients and steps in it – One Mandrake leaf saturated with the drinker's saliva; bits of animal parts, such as a feather or a bit of fur, to coax the magic of the drinker to latch onto the most suitable form; and a few drops of dew collected from a place devoid of human presence for at least seven days, to strengthen the connection with earthen magic. When all are put together, one will have the Elixir to coax out their animal form. The rest of the changes are done by self-transfiguration."

Newt asked Harry, "Did you change your form after taking the Polyjuice?"

"Er… yes, I changed into Cra- I mean this other individual I was planning on to," Harry admitted.

"Professor?" Newt asked the Headmaster.

"It shouldn't be possible." Dumbledore shook his head. "However, it did happen. So I can only make a conjecture at this point. In my opinion, either of his parents had put a small bind on him. Because constantly changing shapes would be very taxing on a baby. To save Harry from near-continuous exhaustion, either James or Lily had put the mild bind on him, with plans to remove it gradually or let his own magic overcome it when it became stronger.

But due to the unavoidable circumstances, the binding stayed put. And with nobody the wiser, it came undone sometimes between Harry's eleventh birthday. I don't know what reaction this magic had with Lily's Blessing, but I think it worked in tandem to remove the scars he accumulated over the years and negate the starvation or other such traumas to keep him at a level of health. And by scars, I meant the mundane scars. Not the one on his forehead, or the one he got on his forearm from the basilisk. The one on his forehead is from a dark curse, and the other is from a very powerful magical creature. Such scars will always be with him, no matter what cure he's been given."

Harry felt a headache settling in. He desperately needed Hermione to explain all of these to him.

"Then come the adventures he has had these past few years. He has so far faced powerful creatures with their own innate magic such as a troll, a unicorn, an acromantula, a basilisk, and a phoenix. Not to mention the Philosopher's Stone and Voldemort's failed Killing Curse, which came with an added complication of a powerful wizard leaving behind a small part of his power with Harry. All of these and him ingesting Polyjuice which had turned into Animagus Elixir because of his addiction to Mandrake Leaves, to the level of toxicities, pure moon dew and assorted mundane animal essence – thus granting him a never seen before ability to shapeshift. Now Harry is neither a Metamorph nor an animagus. He is something else altogether."

"Are you sure about that, Professor?" Newt asked dubiously, "Because I have shared a pipe with a shaman who told me stories about his ancestor, who was a spirit walker. In short, a spirit walker is supposed to be a wizard who adopts different animal forms as his own."

Dumbledore waved it off, "Yes, I am quite sure of it, Newt. There were numerous research studies conducted over the centuries. The spirit walker you mentioned, turns out to be not one man but many. Due to the lack of recorded history, the legend of these men amalgamated them into a single being with all those accumulated stories, Thus, instead of numerous ancestors with forms of wolf or bear or raven, we hear about one single man with all those forms.

The earlier mentions we learn in the histories are of those who were deified because of their powers and abilities. Zeus, an elemental mage with an animagus form of an eagle; Hera, a peacock; Athena, an owl; Ares, a wild boar; Artemis, a fawn, so an and so forth. The only individual for which I used the term 'never seen before' was Loki, who could be called Harry's predecessor in a sense. Because it is said that Loki had multiple animagus forms – wolf, snake, raven, even a mare. It is also said that Loki, being born of frost giants, was adopted by Odin's family through a blood ritual. Who knows what that ritual entailed. Or perhaps, Loki was a title and there were several individuals with this title to gain their own respective forms, but just the same as the legend of spirit walkers, the lack of proper recordings made all of them into one single wizard."

A few minutes of silence later, Harry asked timidly, "What do all these mean for me?"

A long-forgotten fear had raised its head in his heart. There was a time at the Dursleys when Harry was deathly scared that one day Vernon would ship him off to somewhere to be experimented on. This thought came to him after he had nicked one of Dudley's comics, in which there was a story of a man who was changed after an accident and the army was after him, they were trying to catch him to experiment and see what made him tick. Harry thought he too was going to be experimented on when he teleported on a rooftop. Now, he asked the question while forming and discarding several escape plans in his mind. He refused to be kept in a cage and to be probed and prodded.

"Frankly, I have no thought whatsoever," Dumbledore admitted. "It does open a host of windows to learn about this new magic, but you, my dear boy, are not a flubberworm to experiment on."

"You bet your beard he isn't," Newt muttered under his breath.

"However, we must find a middle ground where it is safe and acceptable for us all to find the limitation of this new magic you possess, Harry." Dumbledore waited for him to ascent, "It is also imperative that we keep this between us. I am sure you can understand the danger you will find yourself in if this news somehow finds its way to the wrong individuals. You are well aware that Voldemort is still active. So are his followers, who are in hiding, biding their time. Then there are the Unspeakables from the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry. If they come to know about your power, I am not even sure about what their reaction will be."

"But how do I keep all these a secret?" Harry cried out, "I mean, if I am not sporting scales, then it's either feathers or fur. How do I appear normal?"

"Your problem is very similar to that of a natural Metamorph. Miss Tonks was prone to spontaneously change the colour of her hair when she was not concentrating hard or feeling extreme emotions. It even affected her physical structure, making her trip over nothing, due to the ever-changing shape and body mass."

Harry's look of despair didn't abate hearing that.

"But you are controlling it somewhat." Dumbledore assured him, "Your mental chant of 'Harry the Human' is quite effective if a crude way of maintaining an Occlumency shield. I urge you to begin the study of Occlumency as soon as you can, if your mind is well-organized, then you will exert even more control over the changes. Meanwhile, I will try to locate an amulet to help you to centre your mind and magic. It will help you till you can muster your mind. But it will take me some time to find such an enchanted artefact."

"Where can I find books on Occlumency, Professor?" Harry was desperate for anything to keep him from becoming a rat to be experimented on.

"I can help you with that," Dumbledore got up and went to one of his shelves. He perused the titles for a bit and then pulled out a medium-sized, leather-bound book. He returned to his seat and placed the book in front of Harry. "In this book, you will find meditation techniques to organize your mind. Later on, after you have sufficiently built up your mind, we will proceed towards the lessons on how to repel an intruder from your mind. But it will come later. I want your word that you will study and follow what this book tells you to do."

Harry nodded vigorously and hugged the book to his chest as Hermione does with her copy of Hogwarts: A History.

"Now, I believe it is time we should talk about your home, Harry." Dumbledore put up a hand to forestall any argument. "You do realize that in your current state, it is quite unsafe for you to stay at the Leaky Cauldron. One slipup and you will become hunted for more reason than simply being the Boy Who Lived. I will talk to your aunt and uncle to let you back in. Meanwhile, I suggest that you get your effects and come stay at Hogwarts until I manage to make the Dursleys agree."

"I have a far better solution than that, Professor," Newt interjected smirking.

Dumbledore, once again, irritated and quite worried about his old student's intention, asked, "What do you mean by that, Newt."

Instead of answering, the man got up from his seat and came to stand in front of the puzzled boy.

"Harry, do you have a Galleon on you?"

"Um, yeah," Harry said confusedly. He rummaged his pockets and fished out one gold coin.

"Excellent! May I see it?"

"Sure." He was thinking about the man's mental health but handed over the coin all the same.

Newt pocketed the coin and put out his right hand as if he was asking Harry to shake his hand. Harry looked once at the Headmaster to see that he had the deepest frown on his face. He shrugged his shoulder and thrust his hand towards Newt. He was still miffed with the old Headmaster. And if doing whatever it was Newt was doing would piss him off, then Harry was all for it.

Instead of shaking his hand, Newt grabbed Harry's forearm. He pulled the boy from his chair to make him stand before him.

"With this token of outlays, I, Newton Artemis Fido Scamander, Master of Magizoology, hereby take Harry James Potter on as my apprentice. I shall provide him with a place at my table and a bed to lay his head till the time he remains under my care. I shall teach him of my craft and prepare him so he will one day make his mark in the world. So I have said, so shall it be."

A wind suddenly picked up around the two of them and ruffled their hair and clothes before dying down. There was a faint glow also emanated from their clasped hands. Harry heard the Headmaster letting out a sigh and turned to him.

"You shouldn't have done that, Newt." The Headmaster appeared very tired and resigned.

Newt merely shrugged, "I shouldn't have done many things in my life, Professor. Yet, here I am, doing those very things daily."

"Um, what just happened?" Harry asked.

"I just accepted you as my apprentice, Harry. It means, from this day till you are a master Magizoologist yourself, I will be responsible for you. That means, you will live with me, learn with me and between the two of us, we will imagine all the fun things to do with your relatives together." Newt winked at him conspiratorially.

Harry too, smirked at the thought before frowning.

"While I cannot thank you enough for what you just did, Professor, I would have preferred it if you asked me beforehand." He paused as another thought came to his mind, "Does it mean I have to leave Hogwarts?"

Newt chuckled embarrassedly, "I do tend to leap before looking at a situation. Quite a Gryffindor trait if you ask me. Do forgive me for not asking for your opinion. And about Hogwarts," his new master crowed as he clapped his shoulder, "that is the beauty of it. You will continue your schooling at Hogwarts. But during the summer, and if you can manage the other holidays, you will be with me while I tend to my friends like Pickett here. I will teach you all I know about these fantastic beasts, and you will teach me what I don't know about them by simply talking to them. Sounds good?"

"Oh, wow. Yeah, it sounds very good… er… What do I call you now?"

"Sir or Professor just like you have been calling me is fine."

"Of course, Professor Scamander, sir." Harry nodded enthusiastically.

Newt mock frowned at the boy, "You think you are funny, don't you? Now, go on. Get your stuff from the Cauldron. I will meet you there in a bit."

As the boy rushed towards the fireplace excitedly chattering with bowtruckle on his shoulder, Newt Scamander turned to face his old Professor with a smirk on his face.

"Why did you do it, Newt?"

"I told you before, Professor. I want to help that boy. From what we have seen today, it's a wonder why you don't feel the same way. You say there is a prophecy about him, yet you do nothing to prepare him for that eventuality. That's why I don't agree with your method, I… I can't have another Credence Barebone on my conscience." Newt held the older man's gaze with his own determined one.

"You do realize that by taking him in, you are exposing yourself, your family and your Sanctuary to danger, don't you?"

Newt shrugged, "The only reason I was not involved in the war back in the '70s was that I was helping the Chinese Government set up a proper dragon preserve far from the provinces under the Muggle British rule. Otherwise, I could've been at the forefront of it whether because of my wife, or my brother. Who knows?"

Newt waited for a few moments for a reply. When none came forth, he bade his farewell to the older man and turned towards the fireplace to go and meet his new apprentice. However, before he stepped into the emerald flames, Dumbledore called him.

"I sincerely hope you can nurture and advance this new ability of Harry's, Newt. One of the lines from the prophecy did mention the boy to possess 'a power the Dark Lord knows not'. Keep it in mind."

Newt nodded, "I will be in touch, Professor."

A.N. -Thank you to everyone who left their encouraging words. Each review is very much appreciated.

The story has two more chapters already posted at Patr30n. Search for /lamonserga.