The first day in Paris had been amazing. Harry had no idea what anyone was saying, including Albus who spoke French fluently. He had no idea what anything was (except for the Eiffel tower). He had no idea where to go, so he simply roamed the streets without any set destination. He waited in a long line to ride to the top of the Eiffel tower, where various people wandered up to sell suspiciously cheap looking souvenirs for prices much higher than they appeared to deserve. And the only people who looked over at Harry appeared to only be looking at him in response to him gaping at everything while in pure "tourist" mode. It was wonderful!

It helped that Albus had made it clear that they could stay for as long as Harry liked, and there was no hurry to take in all the sights at once. Albus never complained or suggested any sort of destination. When they stopped for breakfast, Harry enjoyed his very first crepe (he had his second crepe for lunch). Albus ordered and paid, while Harry talked excitedly at the old man. It wouldn't be until weeks later that Harry would realize that he had never given Albus a chance to say a single word, nor did the man seem overly perturbed by the one-sided conversations of the day.

After a long day, and an early dinner of an onion pizza, Albus apparated them to the gates of an estate in Bordeaux.

Albus turned toward Harry, looking down at the smiling boy. "I take it you had a good day, Harry?"

Harry's smile threatened to split his face in half. "It was… fantastic! It was like the first time I went into Diagon Alley. Everything was just so… different, and beautiful, and delicious, and… and where are we?"

Albus chuckled. "This is the estate of my friend Pierre. I assisted his father back in the war against Gellert, and he was kind enough to allow us the use of a couple of his guest rooms for as long as we are in France. His wards have noticed our arrival, so he should be at the gates soon enough."

Harry nodded, but was interrupted from responding by the sudden appearance of a pleasant looking man with curly brown hair, sharp features, and eyes that spoke of a life filled with laughter. Next to the man stood a House Elf dressed in a deep blue, immaculate pillowcase. The elf stood with a straight back, which contrasted with what Harry remembered of Dobby's stooped posture.

"ALBUS!" the man shouted in joy, followed by a string of French that Harry could not understand. Albus replied in turn, and then swept his arm to point to Harry.

The man turned to Harry with a smile, extending his hand as he began to speak in accented English. Harry accepted the man's hand and shook it.

"Ah, Mister Potter. It is wonderful to meet you. I am Pierre Bordale, and I am happy to welcome you to my home. As you are a guest and here with Albus, please call me Pierre."

"Thank you, Pierre. Thank you for letting us stay with you. It is a beautiful house. And, please call me Harry."

Pierre chuckled kindly. "Like I would deny Albus. My father would take the first portkey back from his house where he has retired in Canada to give me a lecture the likes of which I have not experienced since I was a small child. Oh, this is my House Elf, Jean, feel free to ask him for anything while you are here. Though he doesn't speak English so you may need to ask Albus to translate for you."

Jean perked up, and asked Pierre something. Pierre's eyebrows rose and looked back to Harry.

"Jean wants to know if the House Elf, currently standing disillusioned behind you, will be staying with us."

Harry's eyes widened in shock as he spun around to look at the empty space behind him.

"Dobby? Is that you? Are you there?"

Where there was empty space, there was now an excited House Elf bouncing on his heels staring back at Harry with undiluted reverence. Dobby was still wearing his dingy pillowcase, with the addition of two silken green socks adorning his feet.

"Harry Potter sir freed Dobby! Harry Potter sir is the greatest wizard in the world! Dobby be knowing Harry Potter sir be wanting to call Dobby, so Dobby be waiting nearby for Harry Potter sir! Harry Potter sir is…"

Harry put up his hand to stop the excitable House Elf, who stopped speaking but quivered in anticipation.

"Wait! Dobby, how long have you been following me?"

Albus spoke up. "He's been following us since he was freed. Was the broom closet at my apartment comfortable, Dobby?"

Dobby nodded his head vigorously. "Oh, yes! Dobby thanks Tutor Albussy for the House Elf bed."

"My pleasure, Dobby. And feel free to not be so formal, Albussy will suffice. What did you think of Star Wars?"

Dobby grinned. "Oh! Dobby liked it, Albussy. Dobby liked R2-D2, he would have been a good Elf!"

Harry looked at the two in shock. "You knew he was there?"

"Of course, I knew, I think you know I can detect House Elf magic. Not that it was a surprise, as I knew he would be waiting for you to call him after you gave him the gift of freedom that he so desperately craved."

"But you freed him."

Dobby shook his head in adamant denial. "Dobby knows that Albussy is Harry Potter sir's good servant, and so Dobby knows Harry Potter sir is responsible for Dobby being free. Harry Potter sir is the most modest wizard ever!"

Harry sighed as he shook his head. After a deep breath, he looked back at a bemused Pierre. "Would you mind if Dobby stayed with us?"

Pierre chuckled. "I suspect that Dobby will be staying with us, regardless of my opinion, so of course I am happy for him to join. I will explain things to Jean."

Dobby whooped in joy. After that was resolved, the trio were led to the guest rooms (and guest House Elf room, which was a well-appointed broom closet). An amused Pierre and polite Jean wished them a good evening, as Harry felt his exhaustion catching up with him and collapsed into a comfortable king-sized bed.

The next morning, Harry, Albus, and Pierre had breakfast together. Harry assumed that Dobby and Jean were off doing their own things. As he finished his breakfast, his mind wandered and daydreamed of how he would enjoy another day in Paris, which then brought him to one of the downsides to the trip.

"Albus, is there a quick way for me to learn French?"

Albus put down his ever-present upside-down morning newspaper, took a drink of his lemonade, and looked at Harry thoughtfully. Pierre relaxed into his chair, though he also seemed interested in the answer.

"Well, Harry, I have found the most effective method is something we have already partially started. Simply immerse yourself in the language. Force yourself to avoid your native language and your innate desire to understand and be understood will help you focus on learning the language. If you are open to classes during your vacation, I can provide you with an hour of lessons each morning before we head off to explore the country."

"But, isn't there a magical way to speed things up? Can't you just… I don't know… jam it into my brain magically?"

Albus's eyes twinkled as he smiled. "There is a slightly risky shortcut. After all, you are hardly the first person who has wanted to skip the learning process like that. What we do is we take the knowledge of a native speaker, like Pierre for instance, and compile all the knowledge he has on the French language. We then pull a copy of that knowledge into a memory strand. Then, we place the memory strand into your brain, behind a block. We then knock you out, block the rest of your memories, and wake you up to inform you of the fact that you have amnesia and we are unlocking your memories. We then unblock the language memories first, and once they have assimilated, we unblock the rest of your memories. At the end, you should have the understanding and ability of a native speaker."

Harry's eyes widened in excitement. "YES! Let's do that!"

Pierre narrowed his eyes. "This… sounds familiar. Was there something about this in the news?"

Albus nodded. "Yes, roughly five years ago. Though it was a person wanting to learn Charms from a Charms Master."

Pierre's eyes bulged out in surprise, before letting out a small bark of laughter. "Merde! Perhaps you should ask about the possible side effects, Harry."

Harry looked at Pierre, and then back at Albus. His eyes now filled with suspicion.

"What are the possible side effects?"

Albus shrugged as nonchalantly as he could manage (Harry thought it was excessively nonchalant). "Keep in mind, Harry, there are records of people attempting this experiment roughly once a decade for the past one or two millennium. About half of the knowledge seekers had too much of their memory blocked and forgot how to breathe or pump blood through their bodies. A quarter had the magic of the opposing memories attack each other, causing massive losses of memories from both sets. The rest, excluding one, had their magic react so violently to the memory strands that their brains liquified. It is possible that Magic dislikes those who try to use the magic of others to directly enhance one's own mind. There is one success story, so take heart! Well, the seeker claims it was a success, but there are records that indicate that he was also a pathological liar and he never named the expert who provided the knowledge. But what are the odds he was lying in this case? So do you want to give it a go?"

Harry glared at Albus. "You could have just said, there was no safe way."

Pierre spoke up. "If I may interject, I have found the mind ordering exercises of Occlumency to be helpful for increasing my retention rate. It's a mild increase, but it may help."

Albus nodded. "That does help. Though, I would expect the increase to be more of a moderate increase rather than just mild. Do you just store the new language as a collection of facts?"

Pierre raised an eyebrow. "Of course… how else would I store it?"

"That would depend on how you order things, may I?"

Pierre paused for a moment, then shrugged and nodded.

As far as Harry could tell, the two men locked eyes and stopped moving for a full minute. Then both blinked and began moving, and Harry had no idea what was happening.

Albus smiled at Pierre. "That is a decent method of sorting for a basic level of occlusion."

Pierre smiled back. "Well, I just need to hide my surface thoughts during negotiations. I'm not planning on keeping secrets from Dark Lords."

Albus chuckled. "Yes, Dark Lords are notoriously nosey. Still, storing your non-native languages in their own room of your estate is a bit inefficient. Try to start spreading that knowledge across all your rooms, labeling every memory and fact in both your native and non-native languages. Save grammatical rules and an index in the non-native language room. It should help you to start thinking in the languages other than your birth tongue."

Pierre shrugged. "It is worth a shot. Thank you, Albus. Harry, I wish you luck in learning the only language truly worth knowing and have a wonderful day. Make sure Albus takes you to the Mirror Tower before your trip to France ends. For now, I have business today. Good day."

Harry saw the sparkle in Pierre's eye, so knew not to take the insult to his native English as being serious. With a smile, he shook Pierre's hand. "I'll do my best. Thank you again for letting us stay with you."

"But of course. Au revoir."

With that Pierre left the two men to themselves.

"Albus, what is occlumency?"

"It is the art of protecting one's mind from being read by a Legilimens. It clouds, or rather occludes, the mind so one can not easily read thoughts, memories, or emotions."

Harry stared at Albus in shock. "People can read my mind!? Can you? Can Snape!? How is that even legal?"

Albus chuckled. "Yes, yes, yes, and it's complicated."

If Harry hadn't been seated, he would have collapsed into a chair. "Have you been reading my mind all of this time? Has Snape? How can it be complicated?"

"I can't speak for Severus, but I doubt he has been doing any sort of active scans. I have never actively scanned you, or any other students, nor would I do so without permission. Active scans fall in the category of any other sort of magical assault, so those are illegal. Though I would avoid the active scans anyway, regardless of legality."

"Because they're an invasion of privacy?"

Albus shrugged. "There is that. There are also the practical points. First, children are rather horrible at lying, and their secrets are rarely worth the effort of invading the privacy of their minds. When Miss Granger lied about seeking out the troll in your first year, we all knew she was lying, and we decided to let her get away with the lie. We didn't know what she was covering up, but the lie itself was obvious."

"It was? I thought it was a good lie."

"You believe that because you are also a horrible liar. Do you truly believe that the lie of a 12-year-old girl, who desperately wanted the approval of her teachers, was remotely convincing to a group of educators who have over a combined century of having students lying to their faces? Students, I might add, who are much older and experienced in lying."

"Huh… why let her get away with it?"

"No one was hurt, the troll was subdued, and the lie caused no real harm. Additionally, Miss Granger let us all see some of her tells, so it would be easier to discern her lies from truth in the future."

"That's… devious."

"You have to be a bit devious to maintain control in a school where every student is armed."

Harry stared at Albus, and then smiled. "That's fair. So, what are your other practical reasons for not reading my mind?"

"Well, there is also the risk involved. It is not uncommon for people to have instinctual defenses that will detect the attack, which puts the caster in a great deal of possible physical and legal trouble. Even worse, the connection can flow both ways, and the attacked person may end up reading some of the thoughts of the caster. When you have the passive form of Legilimency being completely legal, and the active form capable of leading to legal trouble or being reflected back, it is just not worth performing the active scans on unwilling people… well, unless you are a Dark Lord who is completely willing to ignore the law and kill those who dare fight or reflect the spell."

Harry shuddered at the thought of being on the receiving end of an active attack by someone like Tom Riddle. Then, he thought further on what Albus said. "You said there is a passive form that is legal. How is that not an attack?"

Albus smiled. "Because everyone can do it… to a degree."

"Well, I can't!"

"Yes, you can, Harry. I meant everyone, including non-magical people. As people get to know each other, they start to be able to understand each other well enough to be able to convey complex ideas with a simple look. Some people focus on that ability to being able to get a basic read on strangers. This is a very common trick of conmen."

"I guess that makes sense."

"When you add magic to the mix, that instinctual ability is enhanced to the point where you to start to skim shadows of the actual thoughts and emotions. The more two magical people know and trust each other, the more their magic shines light on the shadows. The Weasley twins are a perfect example of two people who can instinctually share their ideas because of their absolute love and trust for one another. A trained Legilimens is like the non-magical conman, but we are more effective as we can instinctually see through most of the shadows to get a clearer picture of a person's thoughts. Occlusion of course can prevent us from seeing the clear picture or possibly make us see the wrong picture."

"Oh… well, I guess that's not as bad as I thought. Still, I would like to know how to do that… occlusion thing."

"Occlumency?"

"Yeah, that."

Albus smiled gently. "I would be happy to teach you Occlumency and the magics surrounding the internal manipulations of one's mind. Happily, we don't have to do the quick and dirty war-time version."

"What's that?"

"In war, if a person is going to have vital secrets and there is no time to give the person a chance to slowly build up their skills in Occlumency, they still need to be able to hide those secrets from at least random Legilimency attacks on the field of battle. So, they need to be able to instinctually detect the attack and cover the important information with something else. Sadly, the only quick way to bring a non-Occlumens to that level is for the teacher to perform painful Legilimency attacks and seek out the student's worst and most painful memories. It's best if done by a teacher that the student is predisposed to dislike, though hatred is better. So, when attacked on the field of battle, their mind is so raw that it automatically detects the intrusion and brings forth the painful memories and hopefully a deep-seated hatred that they built for their teacher. The important information is hidden temporarily by their hatred and trauma."

Harry shuddered at the thought, glad he was avoiding that scenario. "That's horrible!"

Albus nodded sadly. "The worst part is that the student can't be told why they are being tormented, as that dulls their sense of hatred and trauma. They are told that they just need to try harder and keeping attending the training. It is a monstrous thing to do… it is a deep betrayal, and during the war against Gellert we unfortunately had to do it twice. We sought out different methods when possible, but it was unavoidable during the final months of the war. I, quite selfishly, am happy I was able to avoid taking the role of a teacher. The same woman volunteered to teach both students, saying that if it had to be done then it should be done right and as quickly as possible. Even after the war, when the students were told the truth and they forgave her, Vanessa Moody never forgave herself. She went home, resumed her duties as an Auror, and made sure her son learned Occlumency the slow and correct way. But she also ensured her son, Alastor, never learned active Legilimency, making him swear upon his honor to refuse to learn the skill. As she told him, 'the scars of the body last till death, the scars of the soul last forever'. He took that lesson a little too literally I'm afraid, but he also followed his vow. Though he does have an impressive arsenal of artifacts that skirt the edges of the vow."

Harry looked into Albus's face, as the older man's eyes lost their focus and appeared to be staring into empty space. It was jarring to see the man's normally happy face filled with a world-weary sorrow. After a minute of silence, Harry cleared his throat.

"Let's worry about lessons tomorrow. What's this about a Mirror Tower?"

Albus's expression cleared and his eyes took on their sparkle.

As it turned out, the Mirror Tower was a magical version of the Eiffel Tower. The duo (it was a trio, but Harry was unaware of the invisible Dobby following them) sat on a patch of grass near the tower which had a plaque placed atop the ground. Both the patch and plaque were ignored by the non-magical people in the vicinity. Albus tapped the plaque's four corners, and the trio (along with the patch of grass) flipped over and they found themselves in what appeared to be an upside segment of Paris.

Looking down, Harry saw what appeared to be normal grass, but the reflecting pool let him see up into the normal world and normal people looking down from above (though they could not see the magical marvel beneath their feet). Luckily, Harry did not feel like he was about to fall down (or would that be fall up?) to the ceiling.

Looking at the ceiling, it was reminiscent of Hogwarts' Great Hall ceiling. It reflected the real sky above the Eiffel Tower, except it also had people flying around lazily on brooms and carpets.

The grounds around the Mirror Tower were populated by vendors selling all manner of magical trinkets, broom and carpet rental stations, food stands, and a restaurant.

Of course, the primary feature was the Mirror Tower itself. It was an exact replica of the Eiffel Tower but was composed of intertwining trees. The trunks rose up (down?) to form the primary supports. Their branches spread out to form the latticework and platforms of the original tower. Leaves ran up and down the entire structure, subtly cycling through every color of the rainbow as time passed.

Once an hour, a strong breeze would flow through the area, causing the leaves to rustle and reveal the thousands of fairies that made the Mirror Tower their home. The fairies would begin a light show that would last for a couple minutes before the breeze returned to the normal gentle breeze keeping the air fresh.

At the top of the tower, Harry found himself falling into a deeply relaxed state as he breathed in the fresh air. He thought he could almost hear faint music, but it disappeared whenever he focused on it.

Over his remaining time in France, he would make many more trips to take in this sight.

As the weeks passed by, Harry settled into his favorite summer schedule of his young life. Every morning started with an hour of French lessons, followed by a relaxed day of exploring every corner of the country (both magical and non-magical). Some days Albus would have something to show Harry, and other days Harry would choose the destination. Albus insisted that summer was for fun and so he let Harry set the pace.

Harry always found beach days to be a mixed bag, as he enjoyed swimming in the ocean (Pierre had a pool where Harry had finally gotten the chance to learn to swim properly) but then he had to see whatever new eye-searing swimsuit Albus chose to wear that day. Harry wasn't sure if it was simply Albus's fashion sense, or if the man was intentionally trying to be embarrassing. Despite that, Harry was still drawn to the beach, though it was possible a key draw was his discovery of bikinis (not that he would ever admit that to Albus).

It turned out that Pierre was often travelling, so dinner was usually just Harry, Albus, and Dobby. Though, it took nearly a full week to convince Dobby to join the pair at the table. It took another week before Dobby could manage to not spend the entire evening gushing about how "amazing Harry Potter Sir is to allow Dobby and Albussy to eat at the same table as THE Great Harry Potter Sir". It didn't help that Albus was happy to get into contests with Dobby to see who could come up with the most outrageous compliments for Harry. Harry would have been stronger in his protests, but the contests had him laughing too hard by the end of the evening that he couldn't really feel that annoyed.

After dinner, he would spend several hours figuring out how to perform magic without his wand. He had yet to move the damn feather, but at least he was no longer exhausting himself after one attempt. He was down to needing only a couple of minutes to rest between tries. So, he could at least fail at a rapid pace.

As he settled into bed, he would work on his mental storage techniques. Initially, he had tried using Hogwarts as his place for storing his memories and knowledge. But he found himself getting too irritated with how things ended, that he couldn't truly get started with his meditation. His breakthrough came when he thought of using Albus's bowling alley and apartment. As the only place in his life not associated with emotional trauma, it let him find a state of calm that was conducive to meditation and thought. As the weeks progressed, he noticed that his skills in French were improving at a much faster rate, so hopefully that indicated it was working.

It was shortly after he had started to properly meditate that he decided to start writing to the twins and McGonagall (he had already written a short letter to Arthur Weasley, politely acknowledging the man's gratitude and wishing his family well). He had yet to receive an answer from Hermione or any letter from Ron.

The twins were thrilled that Harry had chosen to forgive them, and respectfully annoyed that Harry kept being able to guess which person had written their next letter. He learned from them that Ron had not written because apparently the boy was waiting for the summer to pass to cool things down, so he would just talk to Harry in person when school started (not really believing that Harry wasn't coming back to Hogwarts). Harry gave his blessing for the twins to attempt to prank some sense into his former friend. Slowly, he was starting to get to know the terrible trickster twins as something more than just teammates and Ron's brothers. It was nice to have friends, even if it was just through the mail.

The letters with McGonagall were focused solely on hearing stories about his parents, so he came to look forward to seeing her handwriting. After Harry had assured her that he wanted to hear everything, even the bad things, her letters started to become truly interesting. There was something comforting about knowing his parents weren't perfect.

Being expelled had apparently been a godsend for his summer plans.

One month after arriving in France, Albus heard a scream of frustration coming from Harry's room after dinner.

Walking to Harry's door, Albus saw Dobby standing outside the door (now wearing a clean pillowcase in Gryffindor colors). The poor elf was alternating between wringing his hands and tugging his ears painfully. Albus understood the elf's vexation. Earlier in the summer, Harry had told Dobby not to enter Harry's room without permission. Dobby was a free elf, of course, so he could ignore Harry's order if he chose. However, getting Dobby to ignore the order of his savior would likely require Harry being in physical danger (or for Harry to not be in his room and the room to be slightly dirty, or the bed unmade, or for there to be imaginary dust sitting behind the dresser).

Albus got down to one knee to look Dobby in the eye, placing his hand on the elf's small shoulder.

"It's alright Dobby. I'm sure Harry is fine. I'll check in on him. If I need help, I'll call on you right away. Harry would be upset if he found out he worried you this badly, so let's not upset Harry."

Dobby shook his head violently.

"No! Dobby not want to upset the Great Harry Potter Sir!" Dobby then looked directly into Albus's eyes. "Albussy will help Harry Potter, or else Dobby being upset with Albussy!"

"I'll do my best, Dobby. Good evening."

Albus shook his head in amusement when Dobby nodded and disappeared. As he knocked on the door, he idly wondered what punishment Dobby would devise if Harry was not helped to Dobby's satisfaction. He would have to practice his shields, just in case.

Albus heard a grunt from the other side of the door, which he took as permission to enter Harry's room. There was Harry, laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling with an expression filled with frustrated anger. On the dresser sat an innocent feather.

Albus sat down next to Harry, who stayed in his horizontal position. Albus spoke gently. "Good evening, Harry. How are you feeling?"

Harry grunted and closed his eyes tightly. He then took a deep breath, which Albus recognized from Harry's meditation exercises. When Harry spoke, it was with a voice full of depressed resignation. "I give up. It's impossible."

"What is impossible?"

Harry waved his hand at the feather, without speaking a word.

"Ahhhh… I see. Harry, do you remember what I said about magic?"

Harry spoke with some annoyance creeping in. "That nothing is impossible with magic, just not yet achieved. I know, and maybe it isn't impossible for someone like you, but I'm not Albus Dumbledore. I don't do the impossible."

Albus stared at Harry's defeated face, and sighed.

"You have survived the Killing Curse twice. You have defeated a basilisk with a sword. You've created a brand-new spell that kept you breathing fresh air for a week without your conscious effort. Many would claim that all of that was not possible. Don't you think that is enough proof you have the capacity to achieve the impossible?"

Harry sighed. "The Killing Curse was a fluke of some weird magic, you said so yourself. The basilisk was blind luck. The fresh air spell… I didn't even know what I was doing there, that was me just blindly following your directions."

Albus nodded and pulled out a pair of pamphlets from a pocket in his robes. "I see. Why don't you read these pamphlets? I have circled the pertinent sections."

Harry stared at the pamphlets, shrugged, sat up, and took them from Albus. "What are these?"

"Those are the educational pamphlets for teaching apparition. One is from the British Ministry and one is from the French Ministry."

Harry looked at Albus in confusion. "You're trying to make me feel better by teaching me how to apparate?"

Albus chuckled. "Not quite yet, no. Also, don't read the instructions they give for performing that piece of magic. I have a different method we'll try first. Just look at the circled sections, I believe your French comprehension should be sufficient to understand the basics of what is being said."

Harry looked at the British pamphlet first. "The most common complaint about apparition is about how it is so uncomfortable. Unfortunately, while more powerful witches and wizards can decrease the noise of apparition, there is no known way to increase the comfort. Therefore, if you cannot handle the discomfort, you should investigate alternate travel methods. For more information on Ministry Approved Travel Methods…"

Harry's brow furrowed as he read the pamphlet. He quickly looked over the French pamphlet. While he didn't understand it all, he was still able to glean enough to understand that it had similar content as the British pamphlet.

Harry looked up at Albus. "I'm able to apparate comfortably each time since figuring out the trick, and it was a simple trick, why do they say it can't be comfortable?"

Albus smiled. "I did tell you that you came up with your own trick, Harry. They could hardly share what you came up with."

"But apparating is comfortable for you too. Why didn't you ever share your trick!?"

Albus's smile widened. "When did I ever say it was comfortable for me?"

"… but… you… you have to know how to do it, because you were certain I could do it when you told me that I could make it comfortable!"

Albus nodded. "Yes, yes I did. I also said I couldn't tell you how to do it. I wasn't trying to be difficult with you Harry, at least in that specific instance. I honestly didn't know how to apparate comfortably, though I had also never given the issue much thought. Even after you told me how to do it, it took me over a dozen trips with you before I could finally start figuring out how you were achieving your results. After that, I spent two full evenings apparating over fifty times before I finally replicated what you achieved through creativity, belief, and instinctive ability. Thank you, by the way, it's amazing to end almost a century of uncomfortable travel."

Harry looked at Albus in shock. "I'm the first person to figure that out?"

Albus shrugged. "If others have figured it out, I am unaware of their success. Either they kept it quiet or their 'trick' has been lost to the ages. However, for all practical purposes, your comfortable apparition is an impossibility. An impossibility you achieved through your own effort. This past month you have performed the impossible at minimum twice a day, so it would be best if you just accept that 'impossible' has no meaning in the world of magic."

Harry sat perfectly still, staring unseeingly at the wall. After half a minute, a small grin formed on his face. Followed by a chuckle. "I'll be damned."

Harry then looked at the feather and his smile disappeared. "Then why can't I get the stupid feather to lift up, even a little?"

Albus looked at the feather thoughtfully. "Are you still feeling tired after each attempt?"

"Yeah, but I feel fine after a minute or so."

Albus nodded. "Well, let's see what your magic is doing. I'll watch, as you make another attempt."

Albus watched as Harry stood, took a deep breath, pointed his finger at the feather, and then scrunched up his face in what appeared to be severe constipation as he exhaled the deep breath slowly through his nose. After nothing happened to the feather, Harry sat back down in a heap upon the bed.

"Nothing! Did you see anything?"

Albus schooled his face into a neutral expression. "What are you doing when you cast?"

"I am trying to focus on what I did when I cast that clean air spell, but this time I am picturing myself performing the motions and words for the Wingradium Leviosa."

"And what spell do you cast when you apparate comfortably?"

"… I don't, I just… I just know what I want! Should I just be focusing on the result?"

"It couldn't hurt. Whenever you are ready…"

"Wait, let me try to relax. I never tense up for apparition…"

Harry meditated for several minutes before opening his eyes again. He stood, took a deep breath, pointed his finger at the feather, and calmly exhaled through his nose. Once again nothing happened to the feather and Harry collapsed back on the bed. The only difference in this case was that Albus's eyes widened in excitement.

Harry looked at Albus's expression, and felt hope start to swell in his heart. "What!?"

Albus smiled. "Your magic looked the same way it does when we are apparating. I think you're very close, Harry. Very close… close… maybe that would work… Harry, this next time, touch the feather."

Harry felt excitement coursing through his body. He stood, touched his finger to the feather, took a deep breath, and slowly breathed out of his nose.

As Harry breathed, he felt… something.

"Lift your hand, Harry" Albus encouraged.

Harry lifted his hand, and the feather stuck to his finger and rose as well. When he finished exhaling, the feather fell to the ground.

Harry smiled broadly, but then he felt a sense of anxiety leak into his mind.

"Albus, what if the feather just stuck to my finger because my magic was acting like… static cling?"

Albus shrugged. "There is a way of figuring it out."

Harry looked on as Albus patted the bed, stood up, and walked to the corner.

"Isn't that a bit big?"

Albus smirked. "Size matters not"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Calm down Yoda, it's a bed, not a spaceship."

Harry then turned towards the bed and took a deep meditative breath. Once calm, he touched his finger to the bed, took a deep breath, and slowly breathed out his nose while he lifted his hand.

The bed rose with ease.

"Harry Potter Sir did it!" yelled a squeaky voice from the doorway. Harry spun in shock to face the elf who was staring back in exultant joy.

"Dobby!" Harry yelled in surprise, grabbing his chest. After a couple of breaths, he spoke again. "You scared me, Dobby! Please don't surprise me like that again. What if I messed up the spell or… oh no! The bed!"

As soon as Harry said the word "bed", he heard a loud crash and the sound of wood splintering. He hung his head and turned to look at the destroyed piece of furniture.

"I don't suppose one of you knows how to fix…"

Before he could finish speaking, he heard a snap of fingers coming from Dobby's direction, and the bed was returned to its pristine state.

"Thanks Dobby."

"Harry Potter Sir is too kind! Harry Potter Sir is greatest wizard ever!"

"Good night Dobby."

"Good night Harry Potter Sir."

As Dobby disappeared, Harry turned to Albus.

"Thanks, Albus. It's not quite what I was looking for, but it's something."

Albus smiled, walked towards Harry and patted his shoulder. "It is something. Just remember, it's just another step. I'm sure you will make ever greater strides with practice but enjoy this new step for now. Now get some rest, I've managed to setup a class with a guest lecturer for us tomorrow. I don't want to keep Gilderoy waiting."

Harry nodded, still filled with joy. He closed the door behind Albus and turned off the lights. He then lay down for the evening.

Laying down on the very bed he just managed to levitate.

Without a wand!

Holy crap!

.

.

.

Wait…

Gilderoy?

Lockhart?

What the hell!?