AN: Hey... been a while... nearly two months! That's 2000 years in internet time! Well, at least we're doing better than Element Animation. Your reminder to go here: forum/The-Potter-Complex/240360/
ANs should be shorter from now on.

25/5/24

DavidoDaVinci

xXxDoubleKxXx

Chapter 21: Advent

He hurried off, forgetting to change as he did so, towards the castle.

"Ron? Ron?" he shouted, hopping up the stairs two at a time.

He caught up to him about halfway up to the Gryffindor common room, and tugged on his coat.

"Mate. What the heck? Has Dr- Malfoy done something?"

"No," Ron said, quietly. "It's just…"

"Oh." Harry replied, realisation dawning on his face. "I mean, it's just a Quidditch match, it's nothing…"

But Ron had run up the stairs, and just as he was about to follow, one of the staircases moved, and he was suddenly facing the third floor corridor on the right hand side.

He swore quietly.

…

"Well, that was a bit dumb, wasn't it?" Draco asked, affronted. "I mean, who breaks up with their friends just because of a Quidditch match?"

Harry coughed something that sounded like 'You!', before turning around, to face the mirror, which Ebony was eyeing distastefully.

"I heard that snake thinks it's better than you." he whispered, in parseltongue, causing Hermione to flinch, and mutter, "Still not used to that." before continuing with her book.

After a few minutes, Draco stood up.

"You guys want anything from the kitchens?"

Harry shrugged. "Tea and Carrot cake. Two sugars. Extra frosting."

"Who works there, anyway?"

Draco glanced at Hermione. "House elves. Why? What do you want?"

"A Latte would be nice," she answered, not glancing up from '9068 Potions of Varying Difficulty, Vol. 4'.

Draco hopped out, gingerly.

"I do wonder," Harry said. "How he gets all that food through the library without Madam Pince snuffing him."

…

Dumbledore tapped the desk with his long fingers. Being one of the greatest minds of all time, among both wizards and muggles, sounded fun until you got to doing it, and found yourself quite bored by anything not involving the extraordinary: or at least the vaguely interesting.

Harry Potter was certainly interesting, and yet, he had to be one of the most boring mysteries Albus Dumbledore had ever had the opportunity to experience.

He was far too similar to Tom Riddle to be a coincidence but surely that was just a coincidence. Perhaps it was the orphanages?

There was a knock at the door, and Dumbledore shivered, involuntarily.

"Come in."

Lily Potter walked in, complete with a bag on her shoulder and a worried look on her face.

"Ah! Lily, I've been meaning to talk to you for quite a while. Please, sit down."

She sat, obediently, and barely waited a moment for Dumbledore to begin.

"I'm worried about you."

That hadn't been on his bingo card.

"What do you mean?" he asked, attempting to steer the conversation from what he thought was on her mind.

"You've been worrying all year, since you got that letter from Harry."

"I worry about a lot of things, all the time."

"Yes, that's what I thought," Lily continued, like some sort of patient therapist. "For however long I've known you, you've always been worrying about something, multiple things most days, but I've never seen you so consumed. It's like you're suspicious of something involving my son."

"No, no. It's just a rather strange thing that I've noticed about him that reminds me-"

"Of You-Know-Who?"

"I- how did you?"

"Because I've been thinking the same thing since I met him again. And I'm worried about him, Albus, and I'm worried about you, because you seem convinced that there is a connection."

For the first time in a very long time, Dumbledore was speechless.

"What do we do, Albus?"

Dumbledore gulped. "Talk to him."

…

The morning post arrived on Thursday, and Harry was not really expecting anything. He hadn't written to anyone recently, and he hadn't ordered anything, so he was minorly interested when a pretty unimpressive owl landed in his pumpkin juice. He quickly tore off the letter, before it could do too much damage, and had a look.

Dear Mr Potter,

You have been formally invited to a meeting with Professor Albus Dumbledore, Professor Minerva McGonagall, Professor Lily Potter, and Professor Severus Snape, on 19 January this coming year. If you cannot make it, the meeting will continue without you, though there will be little point.

Professor Albus Dumbledore

X

Draco snickered almost inaudibly. "Dumbledore ends his letters with a kiss?" He whispered so that only Harry could hear.

Harry stared at him, and pretended to be appalled at this conversation.

The others on the table around them grimaced. Half a year and they still couldn't talk without something going wrong.

Harry didn't notice Lily staring at him from the high table, apprehensively.

…

"Oh, hi Harry!" said Hagrid. "How's your day been?"

Harry shrugged. "Alright." He got the distinct impression that Hermione shivered a little as she passed Hagrid.

"Although," he said thoughtfully, sitting down, "It has been… Hagrid…"

"Hm? Yeah?" he asked, halfway through devouring a rock cake. "What is it?"

"What's that?"

Hagrid followed Harry's finger across the room until he found what he found a large egg placed into the normally empty fireplace.

"Oh! Well, that's just, um… for research. On endangered species of… chickens…"

Hermione gasped. "I know what that is! That's a dragon egg!"

"I… well…" Hagrid looked flustered. "Alright, fine! Yeah, I've got a dragon egg in my possession that I got for a good price on…"

Harry blinked. "Where did you get it, Hagrid?"

He mumbled something which sounded like, "A muggle thing. I think it was called Eebay or something."

"Oh Hagrid." Hermione mumbled.

Hagrid looked equally apologetic, and pleased with himself.

…

"I swear," Draco muttered, "If that thing wakes up before Christmas, I'm leaving Hogwarts."

Harry grinned. "Sure." He pulled himself out of bed. "Breakfast?"

He groaned. "Fiiiine."

The two boys pulled on their robes and headed down to the common room.

"Hey, Blaize," Draco said, brightly, swinging around one of the stone pillars.

Harry grinned, and walked over to the exit.

…

"Hey, Ron."

"What do you want?" Ron asked.

"Conversation." Harry said, spelling it out slowly.

Ron flipped him off.

"That's it!" Harry said, grinning. "Look," he said, quietly, "I need your help."

Ron rolled his eyes. "What with?"

"Promise not to tell anyone?"

"Sure."

"Hagrid has a dragon."

Ron blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"A dragon." Harry repeated, since Ron clearly wasn't understanding.

"How big is it?" Ron asked, vaguely excited.

"Dunno. It hasn't hatched. But I need you to help me deal with it when it does, OK?"

Ron thought carefully. "Sure. Still don't forgive you."

"I should hope not!" Harry replied, running off.

…

Emily breathed in, slowly. At last she had found a train to London, and could get back to her job. After the discussion with Voldemort about her daughter, she had been pretty shocked, but overall pleased. After that, it had been a matter of waiting for a muggle way to get home, because she refused to use the floo network or apparate. It had been a surprisingly long time, but she had eventually found one after a couple of weeks searching.

She was still kind of trying to comprehend it.

Her daughter was alive and well, and at Hogwarts. She wasn't fully sure why she hadn't told William yet, if she was completely honest with herself. It wasn't as if she was unable to contact him, but it seemed more fair to say something like that face to face. Not that she had had much experience with it of course. But why hadn't she been told about this before?

…

There were many reasons why Emily Byrns was one of Lord Voldemort's more favoured supporters, and one of them was that her thought processes were very fast, and quite enjoyable to listen to without permission. He grinned to himself, in much the same way Harry would at the antics of Draco Malfoy, and stood up to grab himself some wine. Now it was merely a question of waiting for her to tell William.

He sighed. "Come in, Bella."

She obediently entered the room, with a stern expression on her face.

"Have you heard back from Harry?"

Tom shook his head. "The letter appears to have been intercepted. Nobody could know by looking at it who it was for, who it was from, or what it was about, though Dumbledore still seems to be attempting to reach out to me.

She raised her eyebrows. "Dumbledore? Try to contact you? What for? I was under the impression this was a war, unless he is uninterested in continuing-"

"Of course the old man is still interested in the conflict, Bella! If he weren't, we would be politely ignoring each other as I overtake the Ministry! And that's not happening… unfortunately." he grumbled. If only there was a quick and reliable way to dispose of him. It seemed that, since he had taken Harry in, the two sides had reached a stalemate, with very little to do. Both knew that it was too risky to be the first to take action, so neither had done so. Trust the ministry to get involved, but it seemed that they too were having none of it. All of this would have been fine, if not for the fact that it had continued for eleven years. He punched the arm of his chair, unconsciously, and Bella flinched, much as the majority of people would at the sound of his name.

It seemed amazing, but it had occurred to Voldemort a few months back that the war between the Order of The Phoenix and the Death Eaters was one that had faded from the wizarding conscience, and that had become a topic of small talk rather than something people were actively trying to stop. People were still dying, of course, on both sides, but people were trying to get on with their day to day lives. With how little was happening on a larger scale, Voldemort could hardly blame Dumbledore for wanting to discuss matters. He was, of course, not going to accept it, because 9 out of 10 times, it was a trap when Dumbledore 'discussed' matters, but he was interested to see what would happen if he sent one of his less valuable Death Eaters, Rookwood maybe, to discuss it.

He sipped his wine and sighed once again.