Disclaimer: This is a direct sequel to Esama's "Wizards IN SPACE" series available exclusively on Ao3.

Book 1 :

Dawn of the D.S.F.

Chapter 1: Home Sweet Home

Inside the smallest bedroom of a small suburban house on the outskirts of Little Whinging, the quiet and calm evening was disturbed by a storm of clothes and books. As the stars began to shine in the sky and the last lights of day disappeared over the horizon, a dark-haired teenager was rummaging through his meagre possessions. Sitting atop an askew desk covered in newspaper clips and half-written to-do lists was a cage, its bottom littered with feathers and the remains of a rodent, its occupant was enjoying a well-deserved rest, undisturbed by the boy's frantic search.

The rest of the room was sparse. The faded wallpaper was not masked by any photos or furniture, except a badly repaired chair and a disheveled bed, the proof of one too many restless nights. Everything the boy owned could fit in the trunk being unceremoniously emptied and no effort was made to make the room feel like home. Then again, the place this boy considered home was further away than it had ever been at the moment.

Sending another book flying in a way that would have scandalized a certain school librarian, he took a shirt out of the trunk. Just as he was about to throw it on the bed with the rest, a high-pitched hoot stopped him in his tracks. Looking up, Harry Potter pushed back his glasses on his nose and found himself facing an offended Owl with a shirt covering a good part of her cage.

"Sorry, Hedwig. I just can't find that damn stone." He said, pushing on the bed to help himself up.

As he removed the shirt from its precarious position, his eyes caught sight of a small parchment note with thin and slanted writings. This letter was both the source of all his problems and the salvation he had waited for all summer. He barely believed it when Hedwig delivered it to him three days ago. Even though he already knew it by heart now, he couldn't help himself to read it one more time. Dumbledore was going to come and pick him up personally tonight.

Finally, after an entire year, he had decided to stop ignoring him and give him some answers. About the war and Voldemort. About what Sirius was doing and why he himself, the greatest wizard of our time, refused to even look him in the eyes for so long. Sure, if the last year taught him something, it's the necessity of keeping some secrets to yourself but...

Harry was dragged out of his musing when the light at the corner of his eyes died suddenly. Staring through the window, he could barely see the street bathed in darkness.

"Did the lamp posts just die?" Harry asked, looking at Hedwig for confirmation, only for the bird to look right back at him with her head tilted.

Unsure of what was happening, Harry peered once again into the night, trying to discern anything unusual or dangerous. It wouldn't be the first time an attacker found his way to his relatives' house. He was about to give up and go back to his search when a tall silhouette in a flowing cape appeared from behind the neighbour's hedge and made its way toward the house.

"Crap. He's already here." Harry realized.

Harry turned in a hurry, throwing his scattered belongings back into the trunk. Robes, tomes, a bag of crisps, half-finished essays, a strange-looking helmet and other items flew into the room, disturbing the night bird once again. Making sure her displeasure was known, Hedwige hooted loudly and flapped her wings in the confines of her cage. As if remembering the presence of his friend, Harry closed his trunk and took hold of the cage before opening the window.

"Sorry girl, I lost track of time. We're getting out of here. Wait for me at Padfoot's place alright? I'm sure he'll have a few treats for you."

He opened the cage's door and Hedwig gave his hand a last nudge with her head before spreading her wings and taking flight into the night. He stayed there for a moment, his eyes stuck on the white dot getting smaller in the distance, not unlike a moving star in the darkness of space. He stood there, mesmerized, until he heard the doorbell ring. He really should get going. Closing the window, Harry turned and started running.

Bolting out of his room as fast as he could, he thanked whatever deity or powers that may be that the locks weren't closed yet. Harry managed to get to the stairs before he saw Uncle Vernon in a red dressing gown already opening the door. The large man was muttering under his breath about birds and uncivilized hours to disturb good people.

The door opened to reveal a tall figure draped in a black travel cape and purple robes. Half-moon spectacles, a white beard cascading down to his waist and an agreeable smile on an impossibly old face left no place for doubt as to the guest's identity. The headmaster had arrived.

"Good evening. You must be Mr. Dursley. Judging by your apparent surprise, Harry did not warn you of my arrival." Dumbledore said in a pleasant tone.

Surprise was a mild way to put it. As he got down the stairs, Harry saw the look on his uncle's face as he backed away from the door. His eyes were trying to push out of their orbits as all colours drained from his face. His ears quickly began to regain a red tint though, announcing the storm brewing inside that Harry would much prefer to avoid.

"But let us pretend that you invited me inside. I fear these troubled times are not suited to enjoy an evening talk on the porch."

With a quickness betraying his age, Dumbledore stepped inside the house and closed the door behind him. Doing so allowed him to notice Harry and a smile grew on his face as he looked him straight in the eyes.

"Ah, good evening Harry. I hope you had a good summer."

The arrival of his nephew managed to prompt Vernon back from his horrified trance, cutting short any answer Harry could have given. The large man stood a little straighter as he gritted his teeth and menacingly brought an index up to Dumbledore's face.

"Now listen here, Mister. I don't want to be rude but-" He began to talk in a tone devoid of all civility.

"Unfortunately, accidental lapses in politeness happen more often than we'd like." Dumbledore briskly interrupted. "Ah, and this must be Petunia."

The sound of the kitchen's door opening betrayed Aunt Petunia as she appeared in the doorway, still wearing rubber gloves and a dressing gown put on in haste atop her nightgown. Her horse-like face was distorted in an awkward mix of shock and distaste at the sight of the unwelcome guest.

"Albus Dumbledore, we know each other by correspondence." The headmaster said while lightly raising his hat from his head. Quite a way to call a letter with an abandoned baby and thousands of others exploding all over her living room. "May I say that your african lilies are quite gorgeous. I must admit, I never managed to grow anything myself." He added in a playful tone.

"Now, I know my coming this late into your home unannounced must be a burden and I am sure we all have pressing matters to attend to. That is why we will not be taking any more of your time than necessary." continued Dumbledore, as if talking to friendly acquaintances around a cup of tea. "If Harry can show me to his room, we will gather his belongings and be on our way." He added, turning to face Harry and motioning him to lead the way.

Not wanting to wait for his uncle to explode, Harry nodded and quickly climbed back upstairs. He heard Dumbledore excuse himself and follow after him as he reached the first floor. Down the hall, from behind his half-opened door, Dudley was watching him with a quizzical look. He seemed about to ask him something as Harry continued toward his room, when his expression turned to surprise and fear. His eyes had moved to watch something behind Harry, no doubt catching sight of Dumbledore, but soon disappeared as he closed the door in a hurry. One less awkward goodbye to worry about, he supposed.

He got back into his room and started piling up his trunk, cage and boom. As he turned to bring them to the hallway, he found Dumbledore, smiling calmly at him while small butterflies of lights of vibrant colours flew away behind him. The numerous locks usually pending on the side of the doorframe were nowhere to be found.

"Are all your affairs in order?" Dumbledore asked as he let his gaze wander in the small and impersonal room.

"Almost. There's still one thing I can't find. A white stone. It's ... important to me." Harry was sure his hesitation to say too much about it was painted all over his face. There was a reason he never played poker with Seamus since third year.

Chuckling softly as if he had caught a grandchild causing mischief red-handed, Dumbledore took out his wand in a swift motion. A rounded triangular rock flew from behind the desk at high-speed, only to slow down and gently stop itself in the headmaster's other hand. As Dumbledore put away his wand in a pocket, Harry noticed that what little he could see of his right hand underneath the ample sleeve of his robe was nauseating. The fingers were shriveled and the skin had turned a sickly black, making it look like a dying spider.

"Sir, what happened to your..." Harry began to ask, concerned.

"Ah, it is certainly an interesting story, but one that is best left for later. I would not want to spoil it by telling it before you understand everything. Do not worry, however, as you will have your answer sooner than you think." Dumbledore said with a soft yet sad smile as he extended his good hand, the stone within it. "Was that all?"

"Yes, thank you, sir." Harry said, taking back the stone and attaching it to his chest. He made sure to power it off quickly before any sound or chatter escaped from it.

"Then I believe we are all set to go. We best not tarry here. There are a few things we need to do before I leave you in the eager care of your godfather." And with a tap of his wand, the trunk, cage and broom glowed brightly for an instant before shrinking and wrapping on themselves in a mad whirl before disappearing.

They got out of the house quickly after that. His aunt and uncle did not bother to see them off, preferring to stay in the living room with the TV's sound as loud as they could without inconveniencing the neighbours. Even Dumbledore did not mention them as they stepped outside. They walked up to the street without sparing even a glance toward the house. When they stopped on the sidewalk, Harry took the arm Dumbledore offered and with the sensation of being squeezed through a straw, they were gone. Leaving behind them the perfectly normal and orderly Privet Drive and its suffocating heat.

They appeared in a park, somewhere in London. A few green hills, dotted with trees and bushes, were separated by a dirt path. The place appeared deserted and, after making sure Harry was alright, Dumbledore started to walk at a leisurely pace along the path, motioning him to come along. They walked like this for a few minutes, in complete silence.

Harry did not know what to say or even why they were here. He'd known Dumbledore wanted his help for something before dropping him at Grimmauld Place, but there wasn't anything or anyone here. He would also be hard-pressed to admit it, but he was feeling nervous. This was the first time he'd had a real conversation with Dumbledore without it being the result of his daily misadventures and it was off to a bad start ... Or not starting to be exact. He'd had a few hopes while they were still at his relatives' but now ... was he ignoring him again?

"While I do enjoy a little walk at night, I think we could do with a little break." Dumbledore said, interrupting his ruminations. Harry lifted his head, looking at his headmaster for the first time since they'd left the house. His bearings held a sombre note to them as he appeared to think about something far away, contradicting his tone as he sat down on a bench, right under a lamppost. Still filled with apprehension, Harry sat down next to Dumbledore, only to find himself face-to-face with a popsicle.

"Ice pop? I find them to be a delightful remedy to the heat in this season. And I finally managed to convince the castle's elves to learn the recipe." Dumbledore's musing expression had disappeared behind his usual mirthful demeanour as he took out another popsicle from pockets too small to be normal.

"Eeer ... Yes, thank you, sir." Harry said, a bit unsettled by the sudden offer.

As they began to eat, Harry felt some of his nervousness fade away. Yes, he was with Albus Dumbledore out on some errand, maybe even to help for the war, but he was also with his headmaster. The whimsical headmaster that helped him, protected him and comforted him as best he could through the years and their pitfalls. The man had dedicated his life to fighting injustice and helping children grow.

"I know I disappointed you, Harry. That I let you down more than once since we first met. And even more so during the last year. And it pained me greatly each time I failed to help you and each time I had to lie and hide things from you." Dumbledore said with the same sad expression he had earlier. "Fortunately for both of us, our circumstances have changed and now, those times come to an end."

"Does that mean you'll finally tell me about what's going on? About the war and Voldemort?" Harry asked, his excitement leaking into his voice.

"In part. Many years ago, you asked me why Voldemort had gone after your parents that fateful night. Why he came back to haunt us all, and you more than others." As soon as the words left Dumbledore's lips, the air seemed to turn as cold as the ice in his hand. Harry shivered as he clenched his fist hard. "It is time that you learned some things. Knowledge that would have disastrous consequences should it fall into the wrong hands. That is the reason why I avoided you. It pained me greatly to push you away like that and to leave you in the dark, but the risk was too great."

"The risk? I don't have the habit of chatting with death eaters over tea, sir. And neither Ron nor Hermione would let it slip." Harry said, slightly raising his voice in incredulity.

"Far be it from me to doubt your or your friends' ability to keep a secret. I was afraid that you would not have a choice in the matter." Dumbledore stayed calm in his answer and turned to face his student, leaving his ice cream forgotten in his hand. "There is ... a connection between you and Lord Voldemort. One I am unable to sever and of which I only have suppositions about its origins. You may remember dreams you had, flashes of emotions, of thoughts not your own these last few years. I suspect it is why you also share some gifts Tom also possessed."

He was connected to Voldemort? That's why he'd had those dreams of what he was doing years ago and why he was able to talk to snakes? That was ... alarming. Especially since he now had secrets he had to keep from Voldemort at any cost. "So that's why ... But how? And why me? Can he see what I do?" Harry asked. While the vivid nightmares of the last few years had completely disapeared, he still had bad dreams from time to time. Most of them he could not remember, and the rest were just vague ideas of places or feelings.

But it's not like he had them all the time. They only came back during the holidays.

...When he spent a lot of time on Earth.

Oh.

"I ... I feared that Voldemort would have been able to peek into your mind, searching for every little bit of knowledge that could have helped him. Or worse, pierce through it to get what he wanted from me, hurting you in the process. That is why I had to keep my distance from you." Dumbledore said in a mournful voice. His expression was grave and he seemed subdued for a moment.

"However, this past year, you have shown great restraint and serenity in the face of attacks from a vilifying press, a hostile ministry and a student body that turned its back on you. While my hands were tied and I was unable to protect you as I would have liked, you proved that the connection was too weak for Voldemort to exploit it and that you were strong enough to resist him. Unless you had other dreams you forgot to tell me about?" He added, tilting his head to the side and peering at Harry from above his glasses.

"No, nothing like that. I think it's because I found ... a way to have some sort of peace. And you don't have to apologize for Fudge's vendetta. You were also targeted and I've grown used to everyone thinking I'm a liar up to no good. It doesn't bother me anymore." Harry said. And it was true. Mostly. Although it had eaten him up for a while, the time he spent with his friends working for something that mattered helped him realise that there were bigger issues than school popularity. It still stung, but it didn't bother him as much as before. "But I still don't understand. Why me? Why not try to get to you directly?"

"Because fate and men work hand in hand sometimes. As one shapes the other, the reverse is also true. Shortly before your birth, a prophecy was made. While I know it in whole, Voldemort only ever heard part of it." Dumbledore explained. "He feared what would happen if the prophecy worked to come to pass and tried to prevent it. Unfortunately for us all, his reckless and horrifying actions led to the prophecy being set in motion in the first place. That night, both your fates became linked, creating this connection against his will."

As the headmaster answered his question and recited the prophecy, Harry felt his blood turn cold. Because of Voldemort, his fate had been sealed before he was even born. He would have to fight the greatest dark lord of his time or die trying because the madman killed his parents and failed to finish the job...

Well let him come then. He'd already known he'd have to fight in this war. He had been fighting it since he was eleven. And he was pretty optimistic about his chances now that he had the Requirement and his crew backing him up. He'd have to make plans for them in case he did not make it though ... See Hermione? I can plan for different scenarios myself now.

"Thank you for telling me, sir. At least now I understand what's going on ... And what I will have to do for all of this to end." Harry affirmed, trying to look more confident than he felt.

"I must admit that you are taking all this news better than I thought you would. Do not focus on the prophecy too much, however. It was Tom's failure to understand that fate is not as set in stone as some may like to think that pushed his actions that night. It only holds as much power on us as we let it." Dumbledore said, his mood clearly lifting up as a soft smile appeared on his lips.

Not knowing how to respond to something like that, Harry only nodded. Existential questions were really not his thing.

"But let us not tarry on unpleasant subjects." Dumbledore continued. "Though it is linked to what we talked about until now. I would like to give you private lessons this year."

"Private lessons ... with you?" Harry asked after the surprise of the unexpected offer pulled him out of his silence.

"Unless there is another me around, in which case I would very much like to meet him. If you agree, I think it is time I take a greater part in your education." Dumbledore said with a small laugh. "Especially since it would seem that you will have a lot more free time from now on." He added, raising an eyebrow while looking at him.

"Of course, I'd love to," Harry answered. "and I know that my O. were very weak, but I think I found something I want to do that doesn't need them. For now, I'm trying to do what I can to help out with the war." He added, more confident in his choice than he had been about anything else these last few years.

"Ah yes, the clothes you and your friends gave to the order. Quite a marvelous work I must say, even though I was incapable of working out how they were made. I will admit that I am quite intrigued as to how you managed to enchant them." Dumbledore inquired.

"I'd rather not say, sir. You and the order have your secrets and we have ours. It's best that that kind of information does go around." Harry said, squirming a bit in his seat and hoping the headmaster would not press on. He understood the necessity of keeping some things as secret as possible, but that didn't mean he liked it.

"We all have our little secrets that we can keep. As long as they aren't dangerous to keep. Still, do not let this war consume you to the point where you have nothing else. I would hate to see such a brilliant young man squander his future because of the mistakes of his elders." Dumbledore said, an air of seriousness returning for a brief moment before a wide smile appeared once again on his face as he looked at the stars.

"Well, would you look at the time! You've spent long enough listening to the ramblings of an old man, Harry. Although I will still need your help one last time before I leave you with your godfather..."

The soft clink of his soles on metal was his only companion as Harry walked through the empty, but brightly lit corridors of the Requirement. His body felt heavy and just keeping his eyes open took great effort after a long day of travel and festivities.

Unlike the last five years, the long and sometimes tortuous climb of the castle to reach the seventh floor was only the beginning of the journey. It had been more than half a year since he'd even seen the Gryffindor dormitory. Today though, he was walking the path toward the large room they'd repurposed into a common dormitory and that had become quite familiar since he'd changed residence.

After a long ride on the Express reuniting with friends, it was nice to have a bit of time to himself to think things through. They'd agreed to meet in the late morning, letting everyone meet up with friends and rest after the trip.

Although most of his summer had been dreadfully long and boring, the last week had gone by in a flash. Dumbledore had picked him up at the Dursleys and asked for his help to get an old potion professor out of retirement. He'd then left him with Sirus to spend some time with him. The poor man was growing even more restless, locked up as he was in his parents' house. As if he traded one prison for another. They'd avoided Diagon Alley, leaving Mrs. Weasley in charge of shopping for their school supplies.

She'd told them afterwards that the alley was emptier than it usually was at this time of the year. They had the same impression when they realized that more than a few muggle-born students were missing at the sorting feast. It seemed that the Creeves were not the only family to leave the country because of the tightening regulations against them...

Lost in his thoughts, Harry stopped midway in the corridor, in front of a large oval door, and pushed a bulky button on the wall by rote. The door slid open, only for Harry to find himself facing large crates, piled up on top of each other and filling up the room. Looking left and right and confirming that he was indeed on the right level and in the right hallway, he brought his hand to the communication stone on his chest.

"Could someone tell me why we don't have a place to sleep anymore? The dormitory is a bit full right now, and I don't feel like going outside to sleep under the stars tonight." Harry asked in a perfectly deadpan voice.

The voice of Angelina Johnson came out of the stone, with such clarity that you'd think she was here with him. "What? The great captain is scared that he wouldn't find his way back?"

"Knowing his luck, he'd end up floating away before reappearing two months later, sporting a beard and riding a dragon." Ron's voice added.

"Would the dragon be able to fly in space? Wouldn't it need to breathe? Maybe we could make it a big spacesuit?" Luna mumbled, clearly half-asleep.

"Quiet you lot. It's too late to tell jokes on this channel." Terry Boot chastised.

"Wait, no one warned the captain about the rooms? I thought Ernie was taking care of it?" Anthony asked, paying no mind to his housemate's remark.

As if summoned by the mention of his name, an out-of-breath youth wearing a black suit with yellow light plating arrived in the hallway. His short blond hair was in disarray, and a few strands were stuck to his face by sweat as he struggled to breathe.

"Sorry, sorry ... Got lost in the lower levels ... It's been a while." Ernie said as he ran up to Harry.

"He just arrived. Thanks, everyone, and good night." Harry said and gave a tap on his stone to cut the communication, leaving his friends to their banter. He was too tired to take part in it, but he will have to remind himself to get back at Ron. "Breathe Ernie. You could have just given me a call. No need to run yourself ragged ... literally."

"Don't worry ... Just ... Just give me a second... I wanted to..." Ernie tried to say, before taking a moment to get his breath back. "Sorry. I wanted to bring you up to speed on the latest discoveries before the first meeting of the year. First thing: we found rooms better suited for lodging. This way, Captain." With that, Ernie started walking back the way he came, Harry hot on his heels.

"Angelina's team found out how to access a map of the ship yesterday. We've estimated that we currently occupy just shy of eight percent of the available space for our own needs. The rest of the rooms are used as storage for the conjurator's base materials." Ernie began to explain while fiddling with a small slate in his hands. After finding what he was searching for, he handed it to Harry. "Here, take a look. We also found these nifty little things. They're like portable consoles. They're dead useful."

On the slate was a screen with various markings in ancient runes that currently displayed what looked like a map. "That's what the ship looks like? It's even bigger than we thought. How do you use this thing again?" Harry asked while giving the slate back to Ernie. He'd seen quite a few of the consoles around the ship, but you had to use the communication stones on a pedestal to interact with them.

"You touch the part you want to access. Terry is having a field day with it, trying all sorts of stuff to see what they can do. He'll show you what he found later and give you one." Ernie replied. "Now, when Hanna saw the plan, she decided to look for better rooms for everyone. To give us all some privacy you know. Everyone has been assigned to smaller rooms in groups of two or three, except you and the division chiefs. You got the VIP treatment and get to have a whole room for yourself."

"Yay. No more sleepless nights because of Ron's snoring." Harry said in a half-enthusiastic tone. Having some calm and privacy would be great, but after years in the Gryffindor dorm and the one on the ship, he'd grown used to sleeping amongst friends.

As they walked, they passed by a large window giving them a great view of Neptune. According to Marietta, the blue planet was relatively small compared to the others in the system. Still, it seemed downright gigantic at this distance and offered a breathtaking view that he hoped he would never get bored with. Orbiting around it was a structure that lit up from time to time as its final sections were being completed.

"How much time before the station is completed?" He asked Ernie who hadn't even noticed the window and continued to walk with his eyes fixed on the slate.

"A week. Two tops depending on our use of the conjurator now that everyone's back. Once it's finished, we'll transfer a lot of our material stock over to it so most conjuration will be done on board." Ernie explained as they walked down one of the spiralling slopes toward the third level. The aliens who built this ship did not appear to be quite fond of stairs. "That'll free up some of the rooms for other stuff. I know Tony and Neville plan on making a greenhouse or something close to it somewhere."

"Of course. Merlin forbade Neville to try and not breed a monstrous plant that'll try to take over the ship and eat us all." Harry joked. He had approved the idea when Neville had come to him, explaining the necessity of growing their own magical ingredients. With how things were going down there, they might soon need to be completely independent to procure their resources. And since the conjurator could not replicate anything magical, they will have to set up plantations and maybe even a ranch. Of course, they'd also need a potion lab... Maybe they could use the ship's bathrooms?

"Please, don't give him ideas. I have nightmares about the time I had to clean up Sprout's personal greenhouse during detention last year." Ernie said, repressing a shiver down his back. "Anyway, we're here." He added, stopping in front of an arched door wide enough for two people to enter side by side.

A push of a button revealed a wide room shaped in a half-circle. The walls were covered by of some sort of thin and tall dark red panels, and a large Gryffindor banner had been put up on the left one. On the right side, a large window with two armchairs and a low table in front of it gave a view of both deep space and the port flank of the ship.

Like in the other rooms of Requirement, most of the furniture had been conjured using Hogwarts' as templates. He wasn't surprised to find a replica of his four-poster bed against the left wall, facing the window. Against the far wall, a wooden desk with piles of what he assumed were "extra-credit assignments" on top of it, was waiting for him. One of his Gryffindor roommates must have brought his stuff in because his trunk and broom had been left to rest against the desk.

"Padma took care of the decoration. I guess she didn't want you to feel homesick?" Ernie said, not making any effort to hide the wide smile currently on his face as he caught Harry's eyes wide open in wonder. "I'll leave you to sleep. Welcome back, Captain."

After they wished each other good night and Ernie left, it wasn't long before Harry found himself crashing on his bed in his pyjamas. His eyes closed as the fatigue of the last few months finally began to melt away.

It was good to be home.