Chapter 6

A/N: It's been a while, but this chapter was difficult to write. I think it comes with having just written an action scene. Anyway, this story is very much not abandoned! Thanks to the 5 people who have reviewed so far, it's appreciated greatly.

"And where does someone who's not even a Hogwarts student yet learn that type of spell?" The taller Auror asked.

A man being killed in plain daylight did not go unnoticed in Diagon Alley, and a pair of Aurors had been summoned. Kingsley Shacklebolt, a tall black man with a deep, rich bass voice, and John Dawlish, a slightly shorter fellow with wiry grey hair and beady eyes.

"I- It was in a book from my parent's vault." Harry stuttered, still shaken.

"Oh, I remember James using that one. Good Auror. Your parents too, Longbottom." Shacklebolt said with a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "This man is called Titus Thorne. We've been trying to track him down for a few years now. Nasty bloke."

"Am I going to be in trouble?" Harry asked.

"Come off it, kid. You're Harry Potter," said Dawlish.

"So what?"

"We'd be laughed out of court, kid. Harry Potter, a murderer? No, it's an obvious case of self-defence."

The Aurors had let them go shortly after they came when Harry told them he was staying at the Leaky, taking the body with them. Harry made a note that the courts in this world must not be very good if even the police equivalents didn't think they would even go to trial.

"Albus! I have news!" Kingsley said, striding into Dumbledore's office, "I've found Harry Potter."

"Why, that is excellent! Where is he?"

"He's staying at the Leaky. There's more, though. You know of Titus Thorne?"

"Yes, unfortunately."

"Potter killed him in self-defence. Titus had the idea to ransom him off."

"Oh dear... that is troubling."

"But what's more, he used one of James' old spells to do it! I thought those spells were lost to time, but James apparently wrote them down."

"While they were genius, those spells are not those that an 11-year-old should know. How did he even cast them?"

Kingsley frowned. "You'd have to ask him, Albus. As I said, he's staying at the Leaky."

"Thank you, Kingsley."

"Hello, Tom. I understand Harry Potter is staying here?" Albus asked the man behind the bar.

"Oh, hello Albus. You heard what happened then?"

"Yes, an awful thing to happen to one so young."

"He's upstairs. Third room on the right."

"Thank you, Tom."

Harry was sitting in his armchair, trying to come to terms with what had happened, when a knock on the door made him look up.

"Come in!"

The door opened, revealing an ancient wizard. His hair and beard were long and shockingly white. Upon his crooked nose sat a pair of half-moon spectacles. He wore dark purple robes with lemons and limes patterned on them.

"Mr. Potter?" The old wizard asked, "My name is Albus Dumbledore."

"I like your robes." Harry blurted out sheepishly.

Dumbledore let out a full-bellied laugh, more of a chortle than anything else.

"Why, I do believe you are the first to tell me that."

Harry relaxed slightly.

"Now, I am here to talk to you about the events of the last week, Harry. I assume that you came to Diagon Alley for your school supplies, but why did you not return to the Dursleys?"

"So you're saying I should have gone back to them?"

"Oh heavens no! When I found out you were missing, I visited them. Suffice it to say, you are never going back there."

"Why was I even with them in the first place?"

"Because they are your only blood relatives, it meant that a special ward could be put up to protect you, but it seems you will be perfectly fine without."

"Are you talking about that man who tried to kidnap me?"

"Yes. It is always a shame to have to kill, Harry, but if I'm not mistaken, the spell you used was the only one you knew, correct?

"Yes, sir. I had no idea that it would be so... violent."

"Do you know who made that spell, Harry?"

"No, sir," Harry said.

"It was created by your father during the last Wizarding War, among a host of others. His philosophy was to deal the most possible damage with the least possible magic usage. James always kept those spells close to the chest, so you are probably the only one who knows any of them today. Guard them fiercely, Harry, they are your birthright."

"I had no idea they were so precious. Thank you for telling me, sir."

"Of course, be careful with their usage, especially when you come to Hogwarts. I shudder to think of the consequences of a population of hormonal teenagers all armed with deadly spells."

"Of course, sir."

"You may stay at the Leaky until September 1st."

Harry was sitting at the bar just after closing time, head in his hands. Tom was just finishing polishing all of the used glasses after they were cleaned.

"I just don't know what I could have done, Tom."

"My father used to say "Shit Happens". I used to hate that, but now I see how true it is. You did the best you could in the situation you were put in, lad." Tom poured him a drink.

"Is that beer?"

"I know the Muggles frown on it, but the best course of action after something bad happens is always to have a drink. Takes the edge off, you know? Anyway, this is low alcohol, but it acts like a Calming Draught."

Harry took little sips of the drink, before pouring the rest down his throat.

"Thanks, Tom. I'll head up now."

"Sleep well, lad."