Albus Dumbledore tried his best not to glare at Harry Potter as he sat at the Hufflepuff table, chatting with his friends. Not only had he been lambasted in the British newspapers following the boy's address to the Wizengamot, but he'd also heard about it from several of his colleagues at the ICW who were quite vociferous in expressing their disappointment at his actions whilst sitting as the Potter proxy. He'd, of course, responded apologetically but still expressed his own disappointment in Harry's statement, insisting that he voted only how he believed James Potter would have done based on the many discussions he'd had with Harry's father prior to his death. Whether those conversations had actually taken place was irrelevant in his mind – James was a member of his Order, and where he led, the members followed. They believed in him as the leader of the light, and so would have supported his viewpoints in the Wizengamot.

This, however, was not the only reason Albus was unhappy with the boy. In addition to the embarrassment he'd suffered in the media, he'd been forced by his senior professors to allow Harry to join the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. When the request first came to him, he'd immediately denied it with a small smirk gracing his lips. He had no problems admitting to himself that he was being juvenile, but when cornered by Minerva, Pomona, Filius, and Rolanda and accused of being so, he'd insisted it was down to safety concerns – 'a first-year student simply won't be familiar enough with flying to play the game safely'. He was astonished when Madam Hooch simply jumped up, pulled his Pensieve from its cupboard and dropped one of her memories into the basin, before pointing at him and insisting he looked. The memory was of Rolanda standing with Cedric Diggory and observing the incredible level of control Harry was demonstrating whilst in the air. After having seen this memory, Albus was forced to backtrack and begrudgingly give his permission, although Minerva and Filius suddenly looked less enamoured with the idea now they'd actually seen Harry fly. Both were hoping to see the Quidditch Cup adorn their office at the end of the year but were suddenly apprehensive of the chances of that happening.

Things had not been going his way recently and he was both deeply unsatisfied with this and completely unused to it. Little did he know, however, that events were slipping even further away from him. Since the day she'd overhead Harry and Hermione talking outside her classroom, Minerva McGonagall had been thinking long and hard about Albus' actions over the past few years. Once a stalwart supporter of the Headmaster, she had now decided that she would no longer blindly follow his lead, assuming he knew best. Some of his decision-making over the last decade, especially where Harry Potter was concerned, baffled her and she was becoming increasingly troubled by his seemingly erratic thought processes. The meeting about Harry's participation on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, and Albus' childish reaction to the request, only reinforced her concerns and strengthened her confidence that changing her own behaviour was the right thing to do. As such, she had made no mention to the Headmaster of the visit of Madam Marchbanks and the pending improvements to the History curriculum. She would stand once more for her own beliefs and would not allow herself to be swayed any further by the man without good reason.

Harry had been delighted when he'd been informed that he would be allowed to play Quidditch, and Sirius had immediately despatched Kreacher to Hogwarts with Harry's Nimbus 2000 when he was told the good news. In much the same way that Gryffindor had tried, the Hufflepuff team had decided to keep Harry's involvement a secret until their first game, though with far greater success. The majority of the school already knew he was practising with the Hufflepuff team ahead of his second year and so ignored it when he carried on doing so after the Christmas break. Malcolm Preece had simply continued to attend the training sessions but had swapped positions with Cedric, allowing the third-year student to get used to playing alongside Derek and Heidi instead of spending his time hunting for the snitch.

Harry had, of course, reiterated his promise to Hermione about not taking stupid risks and she'd simply hugged him in response. She understood now that this wasn't just a distraction to him and that he was playing for a future in the game, something that helped her feel better about the situation as she knew he'd take care of himself in the air. Hermione, in return, had promised not only to attend every match and be his biggest supporter but also to try and worry less when he pulled any of his 'crazy' manoeuvres. "I've watched you play for years and I understand now that you are always in full control during those moves," she told him. "And, whilst it won't stop me from worrying, I trust you, and I trust your ability." Harry had blushed furiously at this and stammered his thanks before rushing off, embarrassed by his reaction to her praise.

Whilst the rematch with Ravenclaw was definitely something he was looking forward to, he was distracted from his thoughts of Quidditch by the return of Gareth Sykes to the school at the start of the second week of term.

The Hufflepuff first years had decided to have a lazy Saturday morning, and after spending an hour playing games and chatting in the common room, they'd slowly made their way up to the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry had just finished eating and was unfolding the Saturday edition of The Daily Prophet when the noise level from the Slytherin table behind him increased. Curious, he turned around just in time to see one of the older Slytherin students pointing Gareth in his direction and waving to get his attention.

Gareth Sykes made his way over to the Hufflepuff table and Harry was pleased to see no obvious indications of the injuries the Troll had caused.

Gareth nodded at Harry in greeting. "Lord Black-Potter." He said, stiffly.

Harry shook his head. "Please, call me Harry, or Potter if you prefer."

"Potter, then. Gareth Sykes." Gareth visibly relaxed as he held out a hand for Harry to shake. "Do you have a moment to talk?"

"Sure." Harry offered his newspaper to Ernie, then wiped his mouth on a napkin and stood from his seat. "Shall we find somewhere more private?"

Gareth nodded and followed Harry out of the hall and down one of the nearby corridors. Harry poked his head into several rooms as they walked, withdrawing from each with a shake of his head every time, until he finally found one that he deemed suitable. Holding open the door, he waved the Slytherin student inside.

"What was wrong with all those other rooms?" he asked, giving Harry a puzzled look.

"They all had portraits in them." Seeing that his short explanation hadn't made things clearer, Harry explained further. "All the portraits are bound to report to the Headmaster. Anything you say near a portrait has the potential to get back to him." Gareth's expression rapidly changed from confused to concerned and then to angry as he considered the implications of this. "You might want to let the other Slytherins know. I can't prove this is what happens but why risk it?" Harry shrugged.

The room Harry had chosen appeared to be an old, unused classroom so, after taking a seat at one of the desks, he gestured for Gareth to do the same. "So, how can I help you?" Gareth took a seat and looked at Harry thoughtfully.

"My father asked me to extend his congratulations to you for your performance at the Wizengamot over the break."

This caught Harry by surprise for a moment, but he recovered quickly. "Oh, I knew that Sykes was a Noble family and held a seat, but I wasn't aware your father was the head. Are you his heir? I apologise if I haven't addressed you correctly."

Gareth waved off the apology. "No, I have an older brother who's next in line." He sat in silence for a moment or two, observing Harry shrewdly. "Father said he particularly enjoyed seeing you put Dumbledore in his place… you surprised quite a few people at the session."

Harry didn't respond immediately, instead, he simply looked back at Gareth, methodically tapping his fingers on the desk as he'd taken to doing whenever deep in thought. The Slytherin Prefect who sat opposite him was clearly under instructions from his father, but Harry could only guess at what those instructions might be. He felt like there was a potential opportunity here, but he couldn't be sure what signal Gareth was looking for to turn that opportunity into reality. He made a decision and abruptly, the tapping ceased. Harry leant forward.

"Can I tell you what I think, Sykes? I think your father has ordered you to have this little conference with me because he's looking for a specific answer to something. Based on your statement, I'd say he wants to know if I was serious about what I said in my speech, or if the Potter Alliance is simply going to follow Dumbledore's lead. Am I right?"

Rather than answer, Gareth fired back with a question of his own, an evaluating look on his face as he studied Harry. "Everyone assumed you were firmly in the Headmaster's pocket, Potter, what with him voting your seat for all those years, but that's not the case is it?"

"The Headmaster and I don't see eye-to-eye on a number of things. I heard what he said to the ICW about voting the way my father would have wanted and that may well be true, but our politics, whilst similar in some areas, are not identical. I don't know if this is what your father wants to hear, but I'll say it plainly now. The Potter Alliance will never bow at the altar of Albus Dumbledore. We may support the same legislation from time to time, but the 'greater good' that Dumbledore always preaches about, is something we will not support without a damn good reason, and from personal experience, those reasons are few and far between when it comes to the Headmaster."

Harry sat back in his seat and examined the Slytherin Prefect, whose expression was closed, giving no hint as to his thoughts. "As for the Potter Alliance, I meant exactly what I said. It's true I personally want to see the end of discrimination against muggleborns and sentient creatures like the Goblins, but I want to do it by drawing them into our society – teaching the muggleborns our culture so they don't keep unknowingly trampling over our heritage, and setting up better relations with the Goblins. I find it genuinely crazy that wizards treat the Goblins the way they do, then casually hand them all their money for safekeeping. If that's not an example of insanity, I don't know what is." Having finished his discourse, Harry waited silently for Gareth's response.

This time it was Gareth who leant forward in his seat. "I've been told in great detail about what happened the night Dumbledore tried to give you that special services award. How you turned it down right there in the Great Hall in front of everyone… why did you do it?"

Harry shrugged. "A couple of reasons. First, the Headmaster was trying to play games with me. If I'd simply accepted that award and not mentioned your part in events, I'd have been seen as attempting to take all the credit for rescuing the other students. The Gryffindors wouldn't care but I'd have gone down in the estimation of the Ravenclaw and Slytherin students, who would both have found me to be an arrogant bastard for ignoring what happened to you. Hufflepuff may have supported me to an extent, out of loyalty to a housemate, but they'd absolutely frown upon me not recognising your contribution. For whatever reason, Dumbledore has a problem with me and setting me up as the lone 'hero', for want of a better term, makes him look good for offering, and me bad for accepting. Refusing that award was the correct response socially, and politically."

Gareth smirked at the explanation. "And the second reason?"

"It was simply the right thing to do. Look, I don't know what your motivation was for attracting that Troll's attention – whether you wanted to protect the students, or whether you were looking for some glory – and honestly, I don't care. The simple fact of the matter is, you stepped forward. Your distraction probably saved the lives of tens of students, if not everyone present. That Troll appeared right in the middle of the two houses and could have decimated all of us before the Professors had even arrived. You were severely injured and spent months recovering at St Mungo's. Dumbledore not acknowledging your actions was spitting in the face of what you suffered and I wasn't willing to accept that."

Gareth looked at Harry intently, searching for any sign of a lie. He unexpectedly stood from his seat, and Harry swiftly followed.

"My father places a great deal of trust in me despite me not being his heir. You were right, he did order me to have this conversation with you. He authorised me to offer you a gesture of goodwill if I chose to, for what you said in the Great Hall that day."

"OK?" Harry was intrigued as to where this was headed.

"You understand we're a Traditionalist family, right?"

"Of course." Harry nodded.

"My father asked me to tell you we are not interested in joining your Alliance. Our family politics are too different and, whilst he understands what you are trying to do, he doesn't believe you will be successful in the long term."

"That's fair." Harry had thought a request to join the Alliance was a long shot at best anyway so was not disheartened to hear this.

"The Sykes family are deal makers, Potter. We don't have a vast fortune or some incredible product or service that is essential to the wizarding world. What we do have is connections, in all factions of the Wizengamot as well as in the wider world. As I said, my father has authorised me to make you this offer. For one piece of legislation, and one piece alone, your Alliance may call on my father for support, and regardless of his personal views on the matter, he will marshal all his contacts and help push that legislation through the Wizengamot. From a personal perspective, I would ask that you not make that legislation something that will hurt my family, but my father has specified no such restriction. Do you accept?"

Harry was stunned but quickly responded. "I do, and with thanks."

Gareth offered his hand and Harry grasped it firmly, shaking it in agreement. As Gareth made to leave the room, Harry asked one final question. "What would you have done if I'd not given the answers you wanted?"

"I'd have said thanks and that would have been it," he shrugged. "But I know my father would not have stood by and allowed your Alliance to run roughshod over us all."

Gareth had now reached the door but before he opened it, Harry spoke one last time. "For what it's worth, I'll do my best to agree to your request. If it can be at all helped, our request will not be for something that will harm your family."

"Thank you," Gareth replied solemnly, before stepping out and making his way out into the school.

Harry had immediately dashed off after his meeting with the Slytherin prefect and dragged Hermione to the Room of Requirement to fill her in on what had happened. They'd used the communication mirror to loop Sirius into the discussion too and he'd promised to spread the good news to the rest of the Alliance. They had nothing immediately planned that would benefit from the assistance of the Sykes family but knew it was an excellent card to hold in reserve.

After ending the call, they met up with the rest of the Hufflepuff first years in the common room and they all chatted whilst working through their History of Magic homework together. Hermione finished hers first and, after giving it one final read-through, she dropped it back in her bag and curled up in her plush armchair, listening to the laughter and cheerful conversation around her. Whilst she'd enjoyed some of her experiences at Hogwarts the first time around, she'd never really felt like she'd fitted in with the wider student community and, despite the constant presence of Harry and Ron at her side, she was often lonely. She knew she hadn't helped herself in the early years with her bossy, know-it-all attitude (even if that was due to a nervous longing to be accepted) and a desire to make sure she was still needed by Harry and Ron drove her bookishness to extreme levels in later years as she feared that they would simply abandon her if they no longer required her help. She knew now that she was being stupid to ever believe that might have been the case, but she had been just insecure enough that it had kept her up for many nights, worrying.

She had no such fears anymore.

She looked around at her group of friends. Friends. That's exactly what they were. Susan and Hannah were very outgoing and enjoyed gossiping, but they always included her in their conversations when she was around. They didn't begrudge her for spending time with Harry, and she could see how they may have felt she was stealing their friend from them, but there was never any indication of resentment from either of the pair. They'd both already invited her to visit during the summer holidays and asked if they could do the same – something she'd eagerly accepted despite their mental age differences.

Megan and Sophie were much quieter personalities in comparison. Though she didn't often show it in larger groups, Megan was particularly funny and often had the girls in stitches in their dorm room with her jokes and little quips. Sophie on the other hand, was exceptionally kind and often went out of her way to help the other first-years in any way she could. All in all, her dorm was a much more pleasant place to live than Gryffindor Tower had been.

She also got on well with the boys in their year. Wayne, Ernie and Justin had gravitated to each other, though she knew Harry was not offended by this – his best male friend was Neville, and the pair were often together out on the grounds or in one of the greenhouses. Hermione wasn't sure if Harry was the reason, but she suspected his presence in Hufflepuff had had a positive impact on the other boys. Ernie was nowhere near as pretentious and pompous as he had been the first time around and Justin was much more accepting of the quirks of the wizarding world. She remembered how he had told anyone who would listen how he'd had his name down for Eton before and he'd previously made no secret of his disdain for some of the wizarding world's 'backward culture'. Wayne however, had been a real surprise to her. She'd racked her brains and honestly couldn't remember a single encounter with him in her first seven years, but he had a quick mind and was very clever, often debating and trading opinions with Hermione and Harry, and able to converse in a much more mature manner than she'd expected.

As for Harry… well… she knew, had always known perhaps, how she felt about him.

On the whole, she was very satisfied to be a Hufflepuff.

The group had long since finished their work and had begun to drift off to activities of their own when Derek Alderton strode into the common room and began rounding up the house Quidditch team. Harry was sat on the floor flicking through that day's copy of The Daily Prophet. He was resting his back against Hermione's chair as she reviewed her checklist for their Muggle Studies study group but dropped the paper and scrambled over to join the team when called.

"Right, I've just been down to see Madam Hooch with Duncan Inglebee," Derek began. "We've got a date for the rematch, but it's had to be sandwiched in between our two other games so there'll be less time to prepare for each match. Our first game will be against Gryffindor on 22nd February as was already planned. We then play Ravenclaw on 4th April and finish up against Slytherin on 7th June. Clear?" The team murmured their agreement. "With how close the games are together," he continued, "we're not going to have much of a chance to tweak our tactics for each specific opponent so what we're going to do is up our training between now and the Gryffindor game. I want us to perform as smoothly as the Hogwarts Express – all parts of our team knowing exactly what the others are doing and executing our plans to perfection, got it?" The team agreed again, though Harry suddenly began to feel apprehensive. He'd heard speeches like this before and knew what generally came next…

"I'm glad you all agree with me. I'll see you all bright and early tomorrow morning so we can start discussing tactics. Four AM. On the dot." Derek nodded to them all and strode off before any of the team could respond, leaving them all looking at one another with bewildered expressions. Harry groaned – he'd thought he'd escaped the early morning Quidditch sessions by being sorted outside of Gryffindor but had been lumbered with another training-obsessed captain instead.

As January faded into February, Harry and Hermione decided it was time to move forward with the next part of their plan. Harry had held off using his invisibility cloak in school and he knew Dumbledore must have been getting exceptionally frustrated waiting for him to do so. That night, however, would be the night he would venture out under it for the first time. It was time to go looking for the Mirror of Erised.

The other boys in Harry's dorm were snoring softly when he finally climbed out of bed and wrapped the cloak around himself. He made his way silently to the door and slipped out, heading down the passageway to the common room and then out into the school itself. He climbed the many stairs from the basement, up to the third floor from where, starting at the library, he set out to find the mirror once more.

Albus Dumbledore had just finished the last of his paperwork when he sensed a ward that he'd set months before, ping in his mind to indicate that it had just been breached. It took him a moment to realise what that ward was, and then he remembered it had been placed to detect the Potter invisibility cloak leaving the Hufflepuff common room after curfew. 'Finally!' he thought and with glee, he jumped up and dashed to the door, disillusioning himself as he went. Whilst his office was up on the seventh floor, he knew of a secret passage that would get him down to the third floor in a matter of minutes, well ahead of the time he estimated it would take Harry to climb up from the basement.

He did indeed arrive in the room where he had stored the mirror, with plenty of time to spare. He silently conjured a squashy, chintz armchair and leaving his disillusionment in place, he sat in silence just behind the door and waited patiently for the boy to enter. Before returning the cloak to Harry, Dumbledore had stitched a single thread of silver cotton near the hood. Due to the nature of the cloak, charms simply slid off it when applied, but the addition of the single foreign thread broke the cloak's protections and allowed him to place several tracking charms on the thread itself that would permit him to locate Harry whenever he used it. Dumbledore had also weaved in a mild compulsion charm which would encourage Harry to explore the third floor whilst wearing the cloak. The compulsion, however, had had no effect on Harry for two reasons. Firstly, because he had left the Hufflepuff dormitory with the specific intention of exploring and searching for the mirror anyway, and secondly (although Albus didn't know it), because Harry's occlumency shields were strong enough to block the charm so completely that he'd not even noticed its attempts at coercion when he threw the cloak around his shoulders.

Eventually, Albus heard the sound of shuffling footsteps coming down the corridor and the slight squeaking of doors that had been shut for quite some time, being quietly opened. As the noises grew louder, he stood and vanished the conjured armchair before tucking himself into a gap between the doorframe and an old, oak desk. Eventually, the door creaked open before shutting again on its own. Thanks to that small silver thread, and with his glasses enchanted to detect magic, Dumbledore could see a faint shimmer which indicated Harry's position as he crossed the room.

The boy approached the mirror and finally dropped the cloak to the floor, unveiling himself as he stared into the mirrored surface, clearly surprised but captivated by what he saw. Although Dumbledore had planned on allowing Harry to visit the mirror several times before he spoke with him, time was now running short and he needed to get the mirror, and the stone, into position as soon as possible. He allowed Harry a minute to gaze at the surface of the mirror before dropping his disillusionment and stepping out from his hiding place.

"So…" he began, in a grandfatherly tone but he got no further in what he was trying to say. A cry of 'Expelliarmus!' and a dazzling flash of scarlet light blasted him off his feet and back into the wall behind him. His head banged sharply on the centuries-old stone wall, and he knew no more.

Harry crept down the corridor under his cloak, ensuring he made just enough noise to alert Dumbledore to his approach, opening doors just wide enough to stick his head inside and pretend to check for the mirror before moving on. He had the Marauder's Map with him and knew exactly which room contained the Headmaster, and therefore the mirror, but continued with the charade regardless. His only concern would have been keeping an eye out for Filch but he could see both the old caretaker and his cat, Mrs Norris, were patrolling the fifth floor near the prefect's bathroom.

He finally approached his destination and, after folding the map and tucking it back into his pocket, he opened the door and stepped inside. He remembered that the Headmaster had been somewhere near the door when he first encountered the mirror so, ignoring him for the moment he stepped forward and allowed his cloak to fall to the floor. Harry looked up at the ornately framed looking glass and read the inscription carved around the top of the frame; Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

Harry stepped closer. He had a sudden urge to look in the mirror once more. His heart's desire had once been family. His parents and his ancestors lined up behind him as far as the eye could see. What would he see now, he wondered?

He closed his eyes and moved directly in front of the mirror. He took a breath and opened them once more and was startled by the image in front of him. He stared, drinking the scene in.

In the mirror, Harry saw an older version of himself, surrounded by his family once again, though this time it included fewer of his ancestors and more of the family Harry had built. His friends were there, as were the Tonks family. Off to one side, but still a part of the group were his children. James, Albus and Lily stood alongside Teddy and Remus who had his arm around his son's shoulders. All five of them were waving happily back at him. He stared at them greedily before tearing his eyes away to view the other side of the image.

There stood his parents, smiling happily and waving just as enthusiastically. Sirius stood next to his dad and appeared to be sticking a 'kick me' sign to his back, before putting his finger to his lips in a shushing motion and grinning widely. They weren't the only people present however and Harry could see they were surrounded by the faces of those who he had met at Kings Cross before coming back in time. Neville's parents, the Prewett twins and many, many more.

Finally, he shifted his gaze to the centre of the image. This was what had made his breath catch and had caught him by surprise. Harry himself was stood in the centre, looking a little younger than he had been before he returned. Leaning into his side, with his arm wrapped around her, was Hermione, aged in the same way he was. As he watched she turned and smiled up at him and his reflection ducked his head to give her a kiss which was clearly filled with love and adoration, his hand cupping the side of her face as he did so. The pair looked back at him again before the reflection Hermione turned and gestured to the side. Two children walked into his view, each smiling happily at him. The younger of the two was a girl with bushy, dark brown hair that had undeniably been inherited from Hermione. She had Harry's emerald green eyes and appeared to be around eight years old. The eldest was a boy, this time with Harry's messy black hair and Hermione's chocolate brown eyes and seemed to be a few years older, old enough to potentially have started at Hogwarts. In his arms, he carried a small bundle which he handed off to Hermione who placed it in the crook of her arm and tilted it to show Harry. It was a baby boy.

Harry was stunned. This was his heart's desire?

It was at that moment that Albus Dumbledore chose to step from his hiding place. Harry had been so drawn in by the image that he'd forgotten he wasn't alone and as soon as Dumbledore spoke, Harry spun on his heel, ejected his wand from its holster and fired off an overpowered disarming charm. He watched in panic as the spell struck home, flinging the Headmaster violently backwards and ripping the Elder Wand from his hand where he had been grasping it loosely. Harry winced as Dumbledore's head struck the wall with a loud crack and he could see bloody marks on the stone above where he now lay in a crumpled heap. He watched as the Elder Wand arched through the air towards him and reached out to catch it with the unerring skill of a Seeker. As soon as his fingers closed around it, a flood of dazzling black sparks shot from the end of the wand as it immediately bonded with the last Peverell. Harry panted in exertion from the power he'd accidentally put into his spell, and an overwhelming pressure bore down on him, similar to that which he had experienced before upon meeting Death, as the wand seemed to be weighing his character. The pressure lifted in the same way as it had before, abruptly and without warning. The wand seemed to sing in his senses, and he could feel the power within was not yet at its full potential. He was now the custodian of two of the Deathly Hallows.

Dazed, Harry shook his head to clear it and turned his attention to the Headmaster. He now realised Dumbledore was unconscious and the wound on his head was, as all head wounds tend to do, bleeding quite a lot. "Shit," he muttered, pulling the Marauder's Map from his pocket and activating it to look for any nearby assistance he could call on. He felt quite weak, having poured so much of his magic into his disarming charm and was in no condition to levitate the Headmaster to the hospital wing, not that he would be able to anyway without giving away his advanced abilities.

He cast his eye over the map and spotted Professor Flitwick's dot moving down from the fifth floor to the fourth, apparently on his way down to the kitchens for a late-night repast. Hurriedly, he stowed the map away and, picking up his cloak, he dashed from the room and headed towards the staircases. Harry caught the Professor just as he stepped onto the third-floor landing.

"Sir! I need your help!"

"Mr Potter? What are you doing out of bed at this time of night?" Professor Flitwick said with a tone of surprise, frowning at the first-year Hufflepuff student.

"It's the Headmaster, Sir! He's hurt!" Harry didn't have to pretend for there to be panic in his voice, despite all the problems he had with Dumbledore, he hadn't meant to cause him physical harm.

"Where is he?" Flitwick gestured for Harry to lead the way and Harry rushed back to the mirror room with Professor Flitwick at his heels. As they ran, Harry tried to explain what had happened.

They entered the room to find Dumbledore exactly where Harry had left him. Flitwick quickly ran through some diagnostic charms before producing a Patronus. "Go to Poppy Pomphrey. Poppy, I'm down on the third floor in one of the old unused rooms just down from my classroom. The Headmaster has taken a blow to the head and is unconscious and bleeding. Can you please come and assist? I've run some basic charms, and he doesn't appear in any immediate danger. Mr Potter is with me and will meet you on the third-floor landing." The Patronus, which Harry had now identified as some sort of bird of prey flew rapidly out of the room and disappeared from sight.

Now he knew the Headmaster was in a stable condition, Flitwick turned to Harry, a stern expression on his face. "Right Mr Potter. We've got a few minutes before you need to collect Madam Pomphrey, so we'll start with ten points from Hufflepuff and a night's detention with me for being out after curfew I think."

"Yes Sir." Harry nodded in acceptance, knowing that the punishment could have been much worse.

Flitwick glanced down at Dumbledore and then back up at Harry, his expression softening. "How are you feeling? For the Headmaster to be in the state he is, you must have overpowered your spell by quite some margin." He looked closely at Harry who, now the adrenaline was wearing off, was suddenly looking extremely tired. He summoned a chair from a corner of the room. "Here, sit down for a moment Mr Potter." Harry thanked the Professor and sat, placing his head in his hands.

Flitwick glanced around the room, and he frowned as his eyes settled upon the Mirror of Erised. The Headmaster had told the staff that this artefact had been hidden away and there was no chance of any student accidentally coming across it. He certainly didn't consider 'just down the corridor from the Charms classroom' as 'hidden away'. He flicked his wand at the entrance to the room, trying to determine if it had been tightly secured and was astonished to find residue of only a simple 'Colloportus' around the door. Flitwick frowned again, determined to have words with the Headmaster at a later time. He turned back to Harry who was looking a little steadier in his seat.

"I heard some of your explanation as we ran but didn't catch what caused the incident with Professor Dumbledore. Can you explain please?"

"I was looking into the mirror Sir, and when he spoke, he caught me by surprise. I was so focused on what I was seeing that I just reacted… I didn't mean to hurt him, Sir."

"I know Mr Potter. I'm sure the Headmaster will understand as well once he comes around." Harry nodded, sitting up a little straighter. "I must say, your reaction must have been exceptionally quick to catch Professor Dumbledore off guard like that," Flitwick said, impressed.

"Yes Sir. I live with Sirius Black. If you're not quick, you're pranked."

Flitwick chuckled. "I can certainly understand that." He studied Harry, a considering expression on his face. "If you're interested, I'd be happy to give you some tips on duelling. I don't know many people, students or older, who can react quickly enough to catch Albus Dumbledore off guard." Harry gaped at the Professor. Flitwick was a Master Duellist and multi-time Duelling Champion and an offer of his help and advice in those areas wasn't something often given.

"Wow… yes Sir, thank you."

"You're very welcome, Mr Potter. Now, how are you feeling? Any better?" Harry nodded and stood without issue. "Very good. Now, would you kindly go and collect Madam Pomphrey and bring her back here, please?"

"Of course, Sir."

A short time later, Harry returned with the school nurse in tow and sat silently on the floor, his back against the wall as she ran her own series of diagnostic charms on the Headmaster. "He'll have a bit of a headache in the morning but otherwise he'll be fine," she said after examining the results. She stopped the bleeding from his head and cast a healing charm over him to seal the wound. "Filius, would you assist me by levitating the Headmaster to the hospital wing? I just want to check on Mr Potter here."

"Not a problem," Professor Flitwick said, cheerfully. "Mr Potter? I'll see you in my office tomorrow at seven o'clock for your detention."

"Yes, Professor."

Harry watched as Professor Flitwick waved his wand gracefully. A stretcher appeared out of nowhere and the Headmaster was lifted gently onto it before straps appeared and secured him in place. Flitwick nodded to Madam Pomphrey and swished his wand once more, causing the stretcher to levitate and glide smoothly in front of him as he exited the room.

As Harry observed the actions of his Charms professor with interest, Madam Pomphrey immediately began casting the same diagnostic charms on him that she had used on the Headmaster. After a few moments, she nodded in satisfaction. "Your magical reserves seem to be quite low but your core appears to be replenishing itself at a remarkable rate though. How are you feeling, Harry?"

"Tired, Poppy. But it's now almost half one in the morning so that might be part of it." He tried to give her a cheeky grin but spoiled the effect by yawning widely.

Madam Pomphrey tutted. "What about after casting the spell that damaged our esteemed Headmaster?" she said, dryly.

Harry snorted. "Fine at first but after the adrenaline wore off, I was shattered. Professor Flitwick made me sit down and I started to feel better after I'd caught my breath. I didn't mean to hurt Professor Dumbledore but he caught me by surprise and I put everything I could into the spell."

"Well, it seems regular spellcasting is certainly helping your recovery rate," she said, running her diagnostics once more. "Do you feel like you put as much effort into this spell as you did that Reducto at Halloween?"

Harry tried to think back but shook his head. "I can't say for sure… I don't think so? That night I pulled on as much of my magic as I was able to, whilst using a spell I know I shouldn't have even attempted for another four years. I didn't have time to consciously do that this time, it felt more like… grabbing as much of my magic as I could and getting the spell off as fast as possible. Plus the disarming charm is only a second-year spell and I've already started casting some of those normally without any problems."

Madam Pomphrey nodded and pursed her lips. "I really should have you come and spend the rest of the night in the Hospital Wing," she said, watching Harry carefully as his expression turned pleading. "But I think you'll be better off in your own bed. Stand up please and let me check you one more time."

Harry clambered to his feet. "Thanks, Poppy," he said in relief. He really didn't want to spend the night in the Hospital Wing if he could help it. Madam Pomphrey nodded in satisfaction. "OK, you don't appear to be showing any further signs of magical exhaustion so I'll let you go. Please do come and see me if you start to feel unwell again, and make sure to eat a good breakfast in the morning."

"Will do, Poppy. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Harry. Off to bed with you now."

Once Harry was out of the room, he slipped on his cloak and reactivated the map. He made his way back to the Hufflepuff common room without incident but it was only when he began to get undressed that he realised he still held the Elder Wand. He now needed to decide just what to do with the first Hallow.

A/N: I'll be honest, the love for Aunt Cassie in your reviews caught me completely by surprise. In my first draft, I'd forgotten to include Arcturus' funeral entirely and she was added almost as a throwaway character to push a couple of plot points forward. Having seen your responses, I'll try to work her back into the story in the future.

My recommendation for this chapter is "Bearings" by MattD12027. It's a Post-Hogwarts Harry/Hermione story where Harry left Britain to study abroad following the final battle.