Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K.R!

This story is a collaboration's work between Avoranger and Cal the Wandcrafter!

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Hope you like this chapter!

Enjoy! \(OvO)9

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...

Following the destruction of the Locket, their caution heightened, particularly regarding the Daily Prophet, despite their disdain for the publication. For as much as Harry had assured Voldemort would not notice the loss of one more horcrux, it still brought an uneasy feeling leading into their near obsessive fixation on the pages of the post, searching for any sort of sign of retaliation. Unfortunately, Umbridge's selective enforcement of rules added to the frustration, as the Daily Prophet was now one of the very few approved news sources allowed in the castle.

To Harry's surprise, Colin gladly supplied them with Muggle newspapers, facilitated by Dobby the house-elf, who apparently was a fan of the comic section.

In addition to monitoring newspapers, they kept a wary eye on the children of Death Eaters, deeply entrenched in illicit activities. Their unwavering allegiance to Umbridge mirrored Lockhart's fan base, a comparison that unsettled Harry in more than one way. However, he suspected most of it was the anti-Gryffindor sentiment the professor had harboured. So far, however, it was all quiet… which both relieved and scared Harry and Daphne

Meanwhile, Snape's Potion class grew more demanding, likely influenced by both impending O. and Umbridge's oversight, much to Snape's irritation - a bleed offer effect that Harry found just as irritating as he did his first time through the year.

Which led to their current position, walking around the Black Lake after a particularly stressful potions lesson in a peaceful silence… until it wasn't.

"Look who we have here? The blood traitor and his whore," a familiar voice sneered from behind them.

"Well, well, if it isn't the Ferret! Has your mother not cleaned up your language yet? Quite filthy if you ask me," Harry replied, acknowledging him with a hint of irritation evident in his tone. He could sense Draco's frustration at his nonchalant response.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Daphne inquired, observing his lazy approach.

"Greengrass, I've told you before, you should have chosen me over him. Tainting your lineage with a half-blood," Draco proclaimed arrogantly, a look of disdain on his face. Harry, catching the derogatory remark, instinctively reached for his wand, but Daphne's grip on his hand steadied him.

"Oh, really? And what about your own family's questionable lineage? It's no secret they're a bunch of inbred lunatics. No wonder most of them have lost their minds, with only a rare few possessing any sense at all. Why would I want to be associated with a family like that?" Daphne retorted with a scoff.

"So you're saying his Muggle-born mother is superior to mine?" Draco growled, drawing his wand.

Daphne smirked, her wand ready to draw. "Absolutely! You have no idea the contributions Harry's mother has made to the Wizarding World, especially in keeping him alive to defeat your... Master," she added the last word in a hushed tone.

"You know nothing, Greengrass!" Draco snarled.

"You'd better leave before I lose my patience and curse you, Malfoy," Harry warned, his tone icy as he kept his wand trained on Draco.

"You wouldn't dare attack me, Scarhead!" Draco taunted once more. "I warned you, Greengrass! I offered you an alternative to spare your family from the fate of blood traitors!"

"Thanks for the offer. Perhaps if you asked more politely and showed some decency, I might consider it. But with your current approach, the answer will always be 'NO'," Daphne retorted calmly.

"I suggest you leave, Malfoy. You're not welcome here," Harry added firmly.

"You'll meet your end at his hands soon enough, Potter! Same with you and your family of traitors. Best watch your back, Greengrass. Your muggle loving father might get a visit in the night soon!" Draco spat before hastily retreating, casting occasional glares back at them.

"Times like this, I'm reminded of just how stupid he used to be. Revealing information about an attack just to have the last word, pathetic," Harry remarked, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Ah, so you caught that, too?" Daphne inquired.

"Of course! How many years do you think I've known him? From enemies to... somewhat allies? Is it weird that I kind of miss the Draco Malfoy we used to know? I mean he was still a prat of the highest order, but at least he mellowed out a lot after the war." Harry replied, rolling his eyes in irritation.

"A lot of it had to do with the safety of his mother. I'm not supposed to know this, but Astoria told me he would have nightmares about Voldemort torturing her. I think it really hit him hard in his sixth year, and by that point he was only acting out of love for his mother rather than loyalty to his father and Voldemort."

"That sounds about right, to be honest. So are you going to inform your father about the threat?" Harry asked.

"Yes, definitely. Although he probably already suspects something is going to happen. Last time he got a visit around this time from some death eaters, who promised retaliation if he didn't join. He hired security from Russia, subcontracted out through Gringotts. Some hardcore mercenary group that sent the attackers heads back to Malfoy manor. It was a messy affair. I think he told you about it once. Jo will deliver the message tonight...," Daphne trailed off suddenly, her gaze fixed on someone approaching them nervously.

"Excuse me... are you Harry Potter?" asked a small first year boy in Ravenclaw robes, nearly engulfed by his own attire.

"Yes," Harry responded, his tone unintentionally stern.

"I have a note for you," the boy said, handing Harry a folded piece of parchment with trembling hands.

Harry eyed the parchment cautiously. "Who asked you to deliver this to me?" he asked, leaving the boy hanging.

"Professor Snape, sir. He said you were to read it, then follow the instructions for your… Remedial potions class?" the boy replied, looking frightened.

Daphne observed their interaction with narrowed eyes, still in a sour mood from Draco's earlier encounter.

With a heavy sigh, Harry accepted the note with a forced smile, thanking the boy before sending him off. The student promptly scurried back toward the castle.

"Why was he so scared?" Daphne wondered aloud.

"Perhaps he sensed our mood," Harry shrugged, unfolding the parchment to reveal a short message. It was not Snape's handwriting - a fact both of them recognized.

"Who sent it?" Daphne asked curiously.

"It's from Dumbledore. He wants to meet with me," Harry answered.

Daphne raised an eyebrow. "When?"

"Tonight," Harry replied, burning the note with a wave of his hand.

"Hmm, that's odd," she frowned. "I can't recall anything you've done recently that would warrant a summons to his office."

He chuckled, "Well considering the note came from Snape, it probably has to do with Occlumency." He grinned, "Well, let's not dwell on it. How about we head to the kitchen? I have a feeling I know something that will lift your spirits."

"And what might that be?" She looked intrigued.

"You'll see! Come on, let's go!"

.


.

After reaching the Gargoyle statue marking Dumbledore's office entrance, Harry neatly folded his invisibility cloak and surveyed the area. Whispering the password, the statue promptly granted him access. With swift determination, he ascended the stairs, anticipating the usual greeting from Dumbledore.

"Good evening, Professor Dumbledore," he greeted respectfully, a smile adorning his face.

"Ah, good evening, Harry. How has your weekend been?" Dumbledore replied in his usual grandfatherly manner.

"So far, so good, sir. If I may ask, why did you ask for me tonight? Is it because of my Occlumency training with Snape? I've been practising what a few books have said, and I think I've made some good progress, please don't tell me I have to do anymore lessons with Snape," Harry inquired hopefully, frustrated with Snape's instruction, even if they were less frequent than the previous time.

Dumbledore chuckled at Harry's tone, so eager to end the sessions with Snape. "Yes, Harry. That is one of the things we would talking about tonight,"

Harry's face seemed to light up at Dumbledore's statement but then frowned. "One of the things? What do you mean, sir?"

Dumbledore sighed at Harry's question before answering his, "you must be heard about the incident in the Ministry last month from Sirius, I know he would tell you,"

Harry's frown deepened as he nodded in agreement. Yes, Sirius had told him about it the night he arrived at Grimmauld Place. Eager to entertain him, Sirius had recounted Mr. Weasley's encounter with the 'Unspeakable' in the Hall of Prophecy as a thrilling anecdote. He took pleasure in knowing his godfather found joy in his clandestine exploits at the Hall of Prophecy, even if he would never know it. However, the Daily Prophet's portrayal of the incident as mere employee negligence contrasted sharply with Sirius's lively retelling.

"What does any of that have to do with me, Professor?" Harry asked, his confusion evident. He had a sinking feeling about where Dumbledore was steering their conversation tonight.

Observing Dumbledore retrieve the familiar diary from his drawer and place it on the table, Harry's heart skipped a beat. "You remember what this is, Harry?" Dumbledore inquired.

"Tom Riddle's Diary," Harry replied tersely.

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "Indeed. Could you recount for me what Sirius shared with you about that incident?"

Harry blinked, taken aback by the request, but he complied. "Sirius said that Mr. Weasley helped fight Voldemort's snake, and when the Unspeakable stabbed the snake's head, something came out of it, like its dying breath or something. Some sort of dark magic? He said it was like what happened to my scar last summer," he recounted, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the faded scar. "What does that imply, Professor? Is everything all right?" A pretence of concern crept into his expression.

"Considering you're alive, unlike the unfortunate fate of the snake, I'm confident you're fine. However, I need to test my theory before drawing any conclusions," Dumbledore explained.

"So, that's why you called me tonight?" Harry surmised.

"Yes, Harry. I must confess... the Occlumency lessons with Snape were primarily a means to alleviate my concerns about what transpired last summer. I still haven't found a definitive answer," Dumbledore admitted wearily. "It has been quite distressing." Harry could see the weight of Dumbledore's age despite his outward energy and eccentricity. "I'm truly proud of your progress, Harry. Initially, I worried given your strained relationship with Professor Snape. Yet, your natural talent has eased my concerns, and even Severus has confided in me that you are extremely skilled in the mind arts," he added, offering a warm, proud smile.

'Talent? Perhaps. All it took was eventually getting a better teacher than Snape was!' Harry couldn't help but think sarcastically.

Dumbledore continued, "The incident with the snake has shed some light on the events of last summer." Harry raised an eyebrow, suspecting Dumbledore had viewed Mr. Weasley's memory of the event and compared it with his own experience. "But before we go any farther, there is something I must ask of you."

"What would you have me do, Professor?" Harry inquired.

Dumbledore smiled gently. "I wish to test your Occlumency, Harry. If I fail to uncover what I seek, it indicates you've mastered Occlumency," he explained in his grandfatherly tone.

Harry was taken aback by the unexpected request. "So, you mean you want to probe my mind with Legilimency, sir?"

"Yes, Harry."

"But... why?" Harry frowned, seeking clarity. He still desired a concrete explanation. "What exactly are you searching for in my mind, Professor?" he asked cautiously.

Dumbledore sighed wearily, bracing himself for the difficult conversation ahead. He had noticed the gradual transformation in Harry since the incident last summer—his newfound confidence, improved grades, and other changes that marked a departure from the Harry of the previous year.

"Harry... I fear that whatever emerged from your scar last summer was not a typical darkness easily remedied. Honestly, I'm still uncertain about its nature, but I have a suspicion. Once I am certain, I will share it with you. But in order for me to safely share the information with you, I need to know it will be protected in your mind."

Harry pondered for a moment, his expression thoughtful and hesitant. Dumbledore waited patiently for his response.

"If I agree to this, will you cease my Occlumency lessons with Snape?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Harry, the lessons are impo—"

"No, Professor," Harry interjected firmly. "I've had enough. Each time I have lessons with him all he does is try to rip into my mind and pull out the worst memories of my childhood. He delights in it, and I can feel the hatred bleeding out of him whenever I push him back. He is purposefully trying to torment me, and I understand that is exactly what Voldemort would do, but he never offers any instructions on how exactly to clear my mind. He just brute force attacks me, and I figured it out for myself. If you wish to probe my mind with Legilimency now, I consent, but I refuse to continue those lessons."

"Harry, I understand your frustration, but the lessons are crucial. I know you're gifted, but refinement under Professor Snape's tutelage is necessary, at least until the end of the year," Dumbledore tried to reason. "I only wish for you to safeguard your mind against Voldemort," he explained gently.

"I understand your intentions, Professor, but I feel our time is wasted on lessons I've already mastered. I'm certain Snape has more pressing matters to attend to than dealing with me! If you insist on my continued instruction, with all due respect, let's conclude our meeting for tonight," Harry declared, preparing to leave the office.

Dumbledore was taken aback by Harry's newfound determination but couldn't help but feel proud of his student's assertiveness. Where had the meek and obedient Harry gone? Dumbledore sighed heavily, conceding defeat. He had hoped to probe Harry's mind himself to search for any traces of Tom before considering continuing the lessons with Snape, just as a precautionary measure. But if yielding to Harry's request was the best way to proceed, then so be it.

Adolescence was indeed a tumultuous phase. Despite years of experience, Dumbledore never quite got used to dealing with teenagers. He should have known better.

"Very well. Allow me this compromise. I will search your mind, and if you can repel my attacks then I assure you that you won't need to continue the lessons with Professor Snape," Dumbledore conceded.

Harry's face lit up with gratitude. Dumbledore couldn't help but chuckle at being bested by his own student.

"Thank you, Professor. I really appreciate your decision," Harry said, relief evident in his smile.

"You may have to teach this old man a thing or two sometime, Harry," Dumbledore joked, winking at him, eliciting an innocent grin from Harry.

"So... how shall we proceed? Do I remain seated here, or should I adopt the same position as when Snape conducted the lessons?" Harry inquired.

"Seated would be more comfortable, Harry," Dumbledore suggested, conjuring a plush chair in front of his desk.

Harry promptly took a seat, settling himself in the most comfortable position possible.

Dumbledore readied his wand, and pointed it to Harry. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Legilimens!"

.


.

Harry's head throbbed, the experience of being probed by Dumbledore was extremely similar to Voldemort's intrusion, albeit with different intentions. Unlike his previous encounter, Harry was prepared this time. He was no longer the naive boy reliant solely on wand fights and the Expelliarmus spell as his trump card. Nonetheless, he couldn't deny the spell's usefulness—it remained a staple in his repertoire to this day.

Dumbledore slumped into his chair, visibly exhausted, sweat dripping down the side of his head as his hands began to shake. Throughout the process, Harry resisted fiercely, making it a gruelling ordeal for both of them. Neither was willing to concede defeat. Dumbledore took a deep, weary breath.

"You weren't just testing my defences, were you? It felt like you were looking for something specific. Did you find what you were looking for, sir?" Harry inquired, massaging his temples, which throbbed painfully.

Dumbledore weakly smiled. "Yes, Harry. I found what I sought, though I hadn't anticipated the difficulty. It's been quite some time since I've encountered such a challenge," he admitted, shaking his head.

"I must say, quite a welcome change of pace, not just having my brain bashed into with a sledgehammer like what Snape does," Harry added with a grin.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Harry, I am genuinely proud of you. I should have had more faith in your abilities. You were right; you no longer require Occlumency lessons with Snape. Forgive me for underestimating you. I misjudged you," he apologised sincerely.

Harry beamed at him. "Professor... I understand, and I'm grateful for your praise. It means a lot to me," he paused to catch his breath, inhaling deep through his nose to steady the throbbing in his temples. "So, um, what exactly were you searching for, sir?" Harry asked curiously, though he already had a suspicion.

"I found nothing, Harry, and that's precisely what I was looking for," Dumbledore explained with a smile, relief evident on his face.

Harry looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"I was searching for any traces of Tom, Harry," Dumbledore clarified. He waited for Harry's reaction, but the boy remained composed, prompting Dumbledore to continue. "You see, what resides within your scar is no ordinary dark object. As I mentioned earlier, I'm uncertain of its nature but have a hunch. The repetition of incidents similar to what you experienced last summer lends credence to my theory, but I still lack conclusive evidence. I owe you an apology. Since the day you brought me the remains of a destroyed diary out of the chamber of secrets, I have suspected the truth behind your scar, and have been labouring under the pretence that the only way to sever the connection between you and Voldemort would be through your death," Dumbledore confessed, his tone heavy with regret and sadness, his face reflecting the same emotions. "I have spent every minute of my spare time researching similar occurrences, trying to find any way to spare you this fate, but to no avail. I must admit, I had nearly convinced myself your death would be inevitable to serve the greater good, and for this I am extremely sorry, my boy."

Harry was stunned by Dumbledore's confession, rendered momentarily speechless. Why was Dumbledore revealing this now?

"Why are you telling me this? You could have easily kept it a secret from me, and I never would have been the wiser," Harry questioned, his mind reeling with confusion.

"Indeed, why indeed... It's unlike me to be so open. However, since the dark object within your mind has vanished, releasing you from the fate I had feared for you, there's no longer any reason for me to keep this secret. You have a right to know. But unfortunately, even though the scar is gone, you still bear the burden of confronting Voldemort," Dumbledore explained, his tone heavy with sadness.

Harry's eyes widened, his thoughts racing. 'What just happened?' he panicked inwardly.

Dumbledore walked over to his cabinet, retrieving a bottle of scotch and poured its contents into two glasses, before handing one to Harry.

"You know I'm still underage, right, Professor?" Harry joked, attempting to lighten the tense atmosphere.

"True, but this occasion might warrant an exception. Just one glass is fine," Dumbledore replied with a twinkle in his eye that seemed less bright than normal.

Harry chuckled as he accepted the glass, though he refrained from drinking it just yet.

After downing his glass in one smooth motion, Dumbledore grew serious once more.

"Harry... After hearing Sirius's account of Mr. Weasley's experience, did you find yourself questioning why he was there and why the snake suddenly attacked him?" Dumbledore inquired.

Harry hummed thoughtfully, choosing his words carefully. "Initially, I found it odd that Mr. Weasley was there alone in the middle of the night, far from his desk at the DMLE. Sirius seemed hesitant to divulge all the details, though, so I assume it's some sort of Order business," he explained, shrugging.

Dumbledore nodded, stroking his beard. "Indeed, it was peculiar. However, you are correct. Mr Weasley was there for a very important reason, as was the snake..."

"Earlier this summer, Sirius said that Voldemort was after something he did not have in the last war, and Mr Weasley was attacked in the Hall of Prophecies… there's a reason Voldemort keeps targeting me, isn't there?" Harry speculated.

Harry observed Dumbledore's weak smile and nod, confirming his speculation. He hadn't anticipated this revelation. Nagini's death seemed to have far-reaching consequences he hadn't foreseen. He cursed silently, realising he needed to keep his composure and feign ignorance.

"Yes, Harry. I didn't want to burden you with this, to taint your innocence and sacrifice your teenage happiness. However, watching you navigate the challenges of the Wizarding World over the past four and a half years, solving problems year by year, particularly with Voldemort's return last year—though not public knowledge yet, the chaos is evident, including the Azkaban breakout—has made me deeply care for you. I didn't want you to be unprepared for the inevitable confrontation. I believe now is the right time for you to know. You've long been ready for the knowledge I've withheld from you for so long," Dumbledore explained, his words carrying weight despite their brevity.

Though Dumbledore's explanation was shorter than their previous discussions about the Prophecy, Harry still felt uneasy. He knew Dumbledore cared deeply for him, but to withhold crucial information for so long just to preserve his innocence and allow him to enjoy a normal adolescence? Even if he had heard the speech before, it still cut him deeply. He wished Daphne were here to offer support.

"You think too highly of me, Professor. I feel not much has changed since last year. I'm still just Harry," Harry winced internally at his own statement.

"In your eyes, perhaps not much has changed, but for those around you, including myself, you've undergone significant growth. I am pleased with the person you've become. I should thank Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley, and especially Ms. Greengrass. She has helped bring out the best in you," Dumbledore remarked.

Harry blushed at the mention of Daphne's name, never expecting Dumbledore to bring her into the conversation.

"I'll be sure to convey your gratitude to her, sir," Harry replied with an awkward grin.

Dumbledore nodded, offering a warm smile before continuing. "Given how much you've changed, Harry, I believe you can handle this burden, despite my initial desire for you to enjoy your teenage years without worry. Fifteen years ago, shortly before your birth, I needed to hire a Divination teacher. Despite my reservations about the subject, we agreed to meet at my brother's establishment in Hogsmeade. The meeting initially went as expected, but I was disappointed with the candidate. As I turned to leave, she suddenly fell into a trance."

"What did she say, sir?" Harry inquired, feigning curiosity as Dumbledore rose from his seat and retrieved the Pensieve from the nearby cabinet. Harry's eyes followed his movements, a sense of déjà vu washing over him as the Pensieve was placed on the desk.

Dumbledore tapped the Pensieve, and an image emerged, projecting Sybill Trelawney reciting the Prophecy in her characteristic harsh, hoarse tone. Harry winced as the words echoed in the room, the weight of their meaning settling heavily upon him.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."

The silence that followed was deafening. Neither Dumbledore nor Harry nor any of the portraits uttered a word. Even Fawkes remained silent. Harry grabbed the glass of liquor Dumbledore had offered earlier and downed it in one gulp.

"Well… shit," Harry exclaimed, placing the glass roughly on the table. He had heard the Prophecy multiple times, yet he never grew accustomed to its unsettling words.

"I assume that you understand what it means, Harry?" Dumbledore inquired solemnly.

"Did you truly believe in it, Professor?" Harry countered. "Why me? It could have been Neville. His birthday is the day before mine. Why are you so convinced it's... me?"

Dumbledore sighed heavily, sorrow evident on his face. "I'm afraid it's because you survived Voldemort's attack as a baby, Harry. After that, the label on the Prophecy was altered, leading to your name being associated with the Prophecy instead of Neville Longbottom."

"That's absurd!" Harry scoffed.

"Harry, Voldemort chose the child he deemed most likely to pose a threat to him," Dumbledore explained. "And notice, Harry—he chose not a pureblood, but a half-blood, much like himself. He saw a reflection of himself in you, even before laying eyes on you, marking you with that scar."

Harry almost rolled his eyes in annoyance. "But the scar is gone now. It wasn't any sort of power that he didn't know. Unless he doesn't realise what the scar is, and now I suppose he never will. But it still hasn't given me any sort of power over him. So what does that mean for the Prophecy? Am I still considered marked as his equal, or has this changed things? And somehow Voldemort knows of this prophecy as well. No, don't tell me how, I don't think I need to know, and I don't think I can take another big reveal this evening without any more of that whisky,"

"Those are all excellent observations, my boy. Yes, the scar is gone. It was not any sort of power, at least not in a traditional sense. I will not bore you with the metaphysical details or philosophy of the mind, body and soul, as oftentimes with prophecy it is never as clear as we would hope. Although I will say, I choose to believe the best of the interpretations. You were marked as his equal. But now you are able to be his superior. "

Harry sighed, weary of the facade he was upholding but steadfast in his commitment to the role. "So Voldemort didn't have the full prophecy, I'm guessing. He knew some of it—enough to come after my family—but not all of it because he's still attempting to obtain it. How much does Voldemort know?" he inquired.

"Unfortunately, there was an eavesdropper during the conversation. They only overheard the initial part—the prophecy about the birth of a boy in July to parents who defied Voldemort thrice. The rest is unknown to him. I will admit, it may seem unimportant if he were to learn the rest, but prophesying is a tricky thing, and keeping this information from him is possibly the most important task for ensuring your survival. After all, it wouldn't do to have him stumble across some sort of loophole in the interpretations, as far-fetched as it may be." Dumbledore explained.

Harry shook his head at the absurdity of it all. "And what exactly is this 'power the Dark Lord knows not' that I possess, Professor? All I can do is keep fighting, right? Prophecy or not, I'll continue to fight him until he's defeated. I assure you, Professor... he will be the one to die, not me," he asserted confidently.

Dumbledore was taken aback by Harry's resolute statement, observing the boy in front of him. This was not the reaction Dumbledore had anticipated when revealing the Prophecy. He had expected rage or explosive anger, perhaps even destructive behaviour. This unexpected response left Dumbledore feeling conflicted—was it a positive or negative sign?

"And to that, I will gladly raise another glass with you." He reached out and grabbed both their glasses, pouring another shot into each cup, setting them down between the two of them. "Speaking of you living a long happy life, that reminds me of the next topic I wish to broach with you. One that you will be quite happy to hear I believe." The headmaster reclined back into his seat and picked a small silver hourglass off a shelf to his left, the sand a dull black, refusing to move as he flipped it through his fingers. "This is the key to the wards around your aunt and uncle's house. Notice anything off about it?"

"Well, the sand isn't moving."

"Precisely Harry. The protections that Lily invoked would protect you against Voldemort, and they worked perfectly. Nobody knows exactly what she did, but I was able to… I believe the term is piggyback… off of them and transfer some of its power to Number Four Privet Drive, focusing it on your scar. That particular form of blood magic works best on freshly inflicted wounds… it is a sacrificial ritual that is borderline dark but still frowned upon, and I had it keyed into this hourglass. The second you step foot across the threshold of your aunt and uncle's house, the hourglass would flip, and the wards would instantly recharge, giving you safety for the summer. However, since the scar is now gone…" he trailed off, giving Harry a knowing look.

"The wards are gone as well… I don't need to live with them anymore next summer, sir?"

"If you wish, I could arrange for your new dwelling, Harry. As an apology."

"No, thank you, sir. I know you're busy enough. I could find it by myself just fine. Maybe Gringotts could help. And you're forgiven, sir. Honestly, just the fact I don't have to go back there is the best apology I could have ever gotten," he chuckled jokingly.

"My..." Dumbledore chuckled softly. "If you say so... but please do keep me updated about your new arrangements later. We need to ensure it is well-suited so your godfather can escape from that dreadful townhouse," he said with a smile.

"Sure! You'll be one of the first few people to know about my new place," Harry grinned.

Dumbledore returned from his thoughts as Harry continued speaking. "I truly appreciate you kindly informing me about all of this, sir. How about a toast, to a long healthy life without having to deal with any Dark Lords?" He smiled before lifting his glass from the table and bringing it forward to clink against Dumbledore's.

.


.

"So how did the meeting with Dumbledore go?" Daphne inquired eagerly as Harry took his seat beside her in Monday morning's History class. Harry swiftly cast a muffling charm before responding.

Glancing around to ensure privacy, Harry began, "Surprisingly, it was quite productive."

"Did you get to learn any super sensitive Order of the Phoenix secrets?" Daphne whispered teasingly, leaning in closer.

"Actually, yes. Initially, we discussed Occlumency, but then he insisted on probing my mind himself."

"For what? A final assessment? So, does that mean no more Occlumency lessons with Snape?" Daphne's anticipation matched Harry's disdain for Snape's lessons.

Harry chuckled, "Yes, but not without negotiation. He was initially reluctant, wanting to continue until the end of the year. Absurd, right?"

"And how did you manage to convince him so easily? He sounds desperate," Daphne remarked.

"Said I was walking out of the meeting. I had a feeling he needed to look into my mind for something, so I positioned him into a corner where he would offer a compromise. He said if I could fend off his attacks, I could stop lessons with Snape," Harry said, smirking as he traced his faded scar.

"Looking for something?" Daphne frowned, until Harry's gesture sparked realisation. "He suspects something's off with your scar?"

Harry nodded, "He has suspected something since the end of second year, but after the whole Nagini incident, Dumbledore put the pieces together and wanted to ensure I'm no longer bound to it. He suspects what it might be but requires further investigation."

"He didn't reveal it then?"

"No, just a hunch. But that's not the major news from last night," Harry's grin widened, piquing Daphne's curiosity.

"What else could be bigger than… No way!" she exclaimed softly, scanning the classroom for eavesdroppers. "Seriously? He told you about Prophecy?"

"He did! Broke out a bottle of some Muggle whisky that tastes like ashtray and jet fuel, shared a couple glasses and had a heart to heart about it. And he commended you for bringing out the best in me," Harry winked, relishing the moment.

Daphne blushed and shyly hid her face with her hand. "You're joking, right? No way he said that!"

"I'm serious!" Harry replied, grinning as she removed her hands. "He said that I've changed - well, that was bound to happen after last summer's tragedy anyway, especially after I met you. I honestly felt it too since I met you. I'm really glad Susan introduced me to you properly."

"Really? I think I've felt that too... I feel more carefree than before I met you," she smiled shyly and leaned her head on Harry's shoulder. "So, that's it?"

"No, there's more as well. Guess who's not going back to the Dursleys this summer?"

"Merlin, congratulations Harry! How in the world did you convince him of that?"

"That was actually his idea, believe it or not. The blood works on the house were tied to my scar, and now that it's gone there's no point in me staying there anymore. Of course, you're going to have to help me decorate my new place. I hate to imagine what it would look like if just Sirius and I did all the interior work."

"Quidditch, motorcycles, and half-dressed women on all the posters, I'd imagine."

"Don't forget all the Gryffindor red."

"I'll make sure to get you a housewarming plant."

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"Evening, everyone!" Harry exclaimed excitedly as all the members of their secret study club gathered. "I know this is the moment you've been waiting for after the long holiday and everything that's been keeping us busy. We finally have the chance to resume our training today. Did you guys miss me?"

"The only one who misses you is Daphne," Astoria chimed in with her trademark grin, eliciting laughter from everyone in the room. Daphne shot her sister a sharp, playful look in response.

"I've been training hard at home after getting permission from my grandmother to use magic," Neville interjected, his tone shifting the mood in the room from bright to serious. "After hearing about the Azkaban Breakout, my grandmother didn't hesitate to allow me. She even provided a room for practice, along with snacks, potions, and..." Neville hesitated, looking embarrassed, "when my father's wand, which I inherited, broke during practice, she wasn't angry at all. Instead, she took me straight to Ollivander's shop," he said, proudly displaying his new wand. "It's Cherry with Unicorn hair. Quite different from my first wand."

"I'm sorry my aunt hasn't managed to catch them all, Nev," Susan said regretfully on behalf of her aunt.

"It's not your aunt's fault, Susan. She did her best, even visiting our house several times to discuss the progress of the Aurors' investigation. I wanted to share that with all of you," Neville replied with a grin, before turning to Susan again. "Your aunt is really sad she can't spend the winter holidays with you, Sue. She's been trying her best to undermine Umbridge while also hunting down the escaped Death Eaters." Neville's attempt to comfort Susan brought tears to her eyes, and Padma hugged her tightly.

"Thanks, Neville," giving him a grateful smile.

"So, what kind of information have you heard, Nev?" Harry asked curiously.

"This wasn't printed in the newspaper, but according to Madam Bones. Nearly a third of the prisoners who escaped from Azkaban have been recaptured and thrown into a temporary prison. I don't know where, but it's not Azkaban anymore. I think that place was facilitated by your father, Daphne."

Daphne looked surprised. "Really? Dad never mentioned anything to me. He just instructed me to send any information I gathered to the castle using the House-elves. But if he is setting up a holding facility… I can think of a couple places that would fit. How could Fudge agree to that idea?" She wondered aloud.

"Perhaps your father went around Fudge. I mean, if it is a matter for the DMLE, fudge would not have any sort of oversight into it. " Harry suggested.

"Maybe... but that would be extremely risky, if it is discovered who knows what the political fallout of that could be. It's not on the records that he is working for the DMLE, and if he is assisting in running a black site prison… Especially considering that my father was working with Madam Bones to overthrow Fudge and his cronies. That would be extremely risky on his part. But maybe he's trying to insert himself into the investigation in order to gather evidence on something?" Daphne reasoned.

"Wait! Wait!" Katie interrupted, looking incredulous. "What do you mean about overthrowing Fudge?"

"Isn't it obvious? Fudge's leadership is highly questionable. He's incredibly incompetent. Even someone like me, who's politically unaware, can see it," Padma chimed in. "Take, for example, his handling of the Azkaban escape. Instead of owning up to the Ministry's mistakes in managing its own security facility, he blamed the Dementors guarding it and accused Sirius Black of aiding his family. Sirius hasn't been seen in two years!"

"And Umbridge is brainwashing students left and right at Hogwarts," Astoria added, shaking her head. "I highly doubt Fudge has a clue about what his Undersecretary is up to here."

"So, we've got two parties working to wreck the country," Ron chimed in, his tone grim.

"And Fudge's practically handing Voldemort a free pass. He's just too cosy with Lucius Malfoy," Susan interjected. "And as for Umbridge, I've never seen her step foot outside the castle," she added thoughtfully.

"Don't forget, Lucius Malfoy's probably filling Fudge's pockets with galleons," Luna said, her voice calm but firm. "Ministers don't get paid that much, and the Ministry always seems to be broke. It's a shame they're cutting funds for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement when we need security the most. And those statues in the Ministry? Pure waste. My dad's always ranting about it in his Quibbler column."

Harry grinned, pleased to see everyone engaged in the discussion. They were sharper than he'd imagined, ready to tackle the issues facing the Wizarding World head-on. But his thoughts drifted to Hermione and her study group. He'd warned her about Umbridge, but he wasn't sure if she'd taken it seriously. Maybe it was time for another chat with her, to make sure they were prepared for whatever came their way.

"What are you daydreaming about, Harry? The others are ready to train," Daphne scolded.

Harry blinked, coming back to consciousness. "All that is necessary for evil to win is for good people to do nothing. At least we know there are people out there who are doing something." He gave them an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that, I just got caught up in a bit of reflection I guess. Alright, with all the things we discussed a few minutes ago, I don't want you to be caught off guard and unprepared to fight. I've prepared some exercises for us to do throughout this semester, at least until we finish O. !" Harry took out several leaflets containing their training plan from his bag and distributed them.

"This is insane. You made this alone?" Padma exclaimed in surprise after reading the leaflet.

Harry grinned sheepishly, "Yeah! We can't just practise normally from now on. I'm sure that by now you'll be able to pass O. so we won't focus on that anymore. I believe in all of you, especially those who will be taking O. this year!"

"It looks like some of the exercises here can be done alone even if we're not studying as a group," said Daphne, looking proud of her boyfriend's design. The leaflet outlined a menu of Auror and Internal Affairs training, tailored to suit all of them in the room.

Susan whistled in admiration and chuckled after recognizing several of the drills which were mandatory forms of training in the Auror syllabus, especially at recruit level. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were grooming us to become Aurors!" Susan joked.

"Really? I just compiled it from the books I read in the library over winter break," Harry said, feigning surprise.

"Well, don't worry! The training seems quite effective and doesn't waste much time. I like it!" Neville chimed in.

"It's true what Susan said," added Neville.

Harry smiled broadly. "Okay, if no one has any complaints about the training plan I made, let's start by warming up and then practising on the dummies before moving on to our main exercises."

...


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