Disclaimer: This chapter is dedicated to Dame Maggie Smith.
OUROBOROS
Year 6, Part 4
The Reason
For some strange reason, the inevitability of Dumbledore discovering who and what Ouroboros really was lit a fuse under Harry's backside.
Professor Snape knew something was up with his apprentice, but with NEWTs incoming, all of that was put in the back seat.
Studies were more important, after all.
The biggest surprise was yet to come, as it was at the start of April that Severus Snape finally understood who his apprentice truly was.
Harry was in the middle of a study session when a smaller and cuter version of Fawkes swooped into the classroom and tugged at his collar.
Something like this only meant one thing: the headmaster needed him for something urgent.
After excusing himself and making his way up to the top floor of the castle with Fawkes following behind, he was expecting the worst, only for Professor Dumbledore to gesture towards the ornate and antique-looking phone on the desk.
"It's for you, Harry," the headmaster said. "The call, I mean."
Okay, that's weird. Who would contact us via telephone?
I know, right? It's like the weird feeling I've been getting as of late that I've forgotten something, but it always ends up making me want to, you know, study harder or do better at everything. Classes, remedial defense, even crafting spells with Ginny.
I've also noticed. You used to react badly to Professor Slughorn. Now, he barely registers to you.
I know, it's strange.
He went up to the phone and answered it.
"This is Harry Potter."
"Ah, good. Just like I've told the headmaster, you have an urgent family emergency," Admiral Gil Graham said on the other end of the line. "You'll need to take the rest of the day off and the day after that."
"Uncle Gil," Harry acknowledged. "Did you square it away with the headmaster, sir?"
"He seemed a bit delighted at the development; said something about making another seminar or lecture to fill in the spots the one accompanying you would leave behind."
"Professor Dumbledore okayed it?"
"Indeed," the TSAB official replied. "As long as you brought Professor Snape with you… and that you leave immediately."
"All right, I'll inform him. How time-critical is this, Uncle Gil?"
"Extremely so."
"Thank you, Uncle. Will I see you there?"
"I am still tied up at work, but I will make the time when I can. Expect me there tomorrow or thereabouts."
"All right, sir."
"Until then, Harry."
He heard a click as the line went dead and turned towards the headmaster.
"I had my misgivings about letting you off the castle, but given our schedule, I wouldn't mind doing you a favor at all, my boy," the old wizard said, eyes twinkling. "As with Mahoutokoro, I'm sure you wouldn't mind Severus looking after you, Harry…?"
Harry shrugged.
"It's fine, sir. Uncle Gil said I needed to leave immediately, though."
"Worry not. I've already informed Severus and the rest of the faculty of your… emergency. You can meet him at the main entrance."
"Thank you, professor."
"I hope this 'emergency' does not mean ill tidings. Safe travels, Harry."
Harry saw Dumbledore give him a nod which he returned before making his way out of the headmaster's office.
Professor Snape's face was inscrutable as they made their way out of the castle.
"We'll be out of range of the anti-apparition wards soon. Ever been to a side-along apparition, Harry?" Snape asked, and Harry shook his head.
I'll stabilize the spell.
Won't it put you at risk for discovery?
Not when our destination is so far away and we need to be there urgently; we need to be precise.
"Hold on," Snape said, and after putting his arm around his apprentice's shoulder, both men disappeared with a crack.
A moment later, the two of them appeared just outside 4 Privet Drive.
"That was not how Apparition usually works," Snape thought aloud, but Harry was already knocking at the door of his home.
"Is that you, boy?" the sound of Vernon Dursley's voice came from within.
"It's me, Uncle," Harry called back, and soon he heard the sound of footfalls growing louder before the door was opened.
"Dudley?"
"Good timing, Harry! We were just getting ready to head to the hospital."
That surprised him.
"Hospital?!"
"Yeah, my Da pulled me out of boarding school for the rest of the week. Said Mum's water broke an hour or so ago."
Water broke? Wait a minute…
The emergency was Aunt Petunia… my second cousin's here!
He stepped aside as the father and son made their way out of the house towards the car, giving the dour man standing behind Harry an acknowledging nod as they passed by.
"Boy, the house!" Vernon said as he tossed the ring of keys to Harry. "And once you're done, jump in the back. You too, Server… er, Surfer… er…"
"It's Severus, Mr. Dursley," Snape said, his eyes only betraying his amusement as Harry locked down the front door.
"Bah, who cares. Call me Vernon, you're Pet's friend," he replied, and the two wizards made their way into the sedan.
"Uncle Vernon, who's with Aunt Petunia right now?" Harry asked.
"My sister Marge," the stout man answered. "She was the only one who could make it on such short notice."
The ride to the hospital at Surrey was filled with conversation, as it was obvious that Vernon Dursley was chatting just to keep his own anxiety at bay, speaking about mundane things even as he expertly weaved the sedan through traffic.
The apple didn't fall too far from the tree, either, as Dudley was asking the Defense Professor how Harry was like in class.
Snape knew how much these muggles loathed magic, but it seemed their attention was focused on the road and what lay ahead at the hospital to care too much about him being a wizard.
He had seen its influence before, but now that he had truly seen it, he noticed that something had changed, and that the Dursleys were not who Dumbledore portrayed them as.
In hindsight, he should have suspected this, given the amount of food Harry usually brought to the Order gatherings during the winter holidays.
Did they change their tune about magic? That wasn't it, but something else. Something that made them acknowledge Harry as part of the family…
His thoughts were interrupted when they finally arrived at the hospital, and were given directions to the maternity ward where Petunia Dursley was currently having her second child…
As it turned out, their presence wasn't that needed, other than Vernon having to sign some documents and checks to take care of the hospital bill.
Snape had been expecting Vernon's sister to be confrontational upon seeing him and Harry, but the woman who emerged from the waiting room looked exhausted.
"Marge. What's happened?" Vernon asked, and she just sighed.
"We just passed the worst of it," she said tiredly. "It was a breech. The doctors got to fix it in time, thankfully."
She took shaky steps towards the bench, turned to give Snape and Harry a brief sharp look, and then sat down.
"Who are you again?" she asked as she gave the Defense Professor a look. Despite being on such short notice, Severus Snape still had Takamachi Momoko's lessons in mind, as he didn't stand out like a sore thumb in the hospital waiting room… except for the dark colors of his outfit.
"My chaperone," Harry replied.
"You have a chaperone?" Aunt Marge replied, and went on a rant about how delinquent boys needed to be trained by hardened warriors from the military to truly become men.
"You have nothing to worry about in that regard, ma'am," Snape said as soon as Vernon's sister finished her rant. "Harry here has been in good hands."
"I know, I saw," she said, and stopped short as she saw Vernon walk towards them.
"Is Marge giving you two any trouble?" Vernon asked; master and apprentice shook their heads no.
"You did good putting him up in St. Brutus," Marge told her brother. "Look at your nephew. He looks less like a boy and more a man now. That military boarding school education has really toughened him up."
Snape and Harry were nodding at her, but for an entirely different reason.
Several minutes later, Harry's Aunt Marge had been worn-out completely and curled up to nap at one of the benches, with Dudley looking after her.
"So… what do we do in the meantime?" Harry asked aloud.
"We wait," Snape replied before he let out a small chuckle. "Who knew, you being picked by the Witch of Dun Scaith did wonders for your reputation with the muggles?"
"I know, Professor," Harry noted, his eyes closed as he visualized everything he went through under the Witch's tender mercies. "Had to keep myself from laughing out loud when Aunt Marge started talking about St. Brutus."
Nobody in the waiting room bothered to ask where the man in the dark suit pulled out the large hardcover he was reading, and Harry decided to spend the time meditating and engaging Ouroboros in conversation.
Several hours later, a doctor emerged from one of the maternity wards.
"Mr. Dursley? Mr. Potter?"
Vernon stood up from where he was waiting and shook his son awake, motioning him and Harry to follow.
Harry was normally calm in situations like this, but this time, his heart was pounding and his hands were shaking even as he followed his uncle and cousin to the ward where his aunt was recuperating.
They stepped through the door and saw an exhausted but triumphant Petunia Dursley carrying her second child in her arms, the smile of the victorious upon her face.
"Vernon, look at her! Our miracle," she said, and the father looked on, moved at the sight. "Dudley, meet your younger sister."
He followed suit, and when the new big brother stepped away, his eyes were misty.
"Harry. Meet your younger cousin… Lily."
Upon hearing the name, Ouroboros sensed something within Harry, but the young man was too surprised by the pronouncement of his second cousin's name, that when he laid eyes on the sleeping baby, he too was overcome with emotion.
"I… I have to step out for a while…" Harry barely managed to say, not trusting his voice.
"Tell him," Petunia replied, "I know… he went here with you."
"I will, Aunt Petunia."
He sniffled before giving his aunt a nod and going back to the waiting room where Professor Snape was waiting.
The apprentice turned the corner, went to the waiting room and saw his master waiting.
"How did it go?" he asked.
"It went well," Harry said, his voice cracking a bit. "They're naming her Lily."
Snape's eyes widened for a while, before he understood – that was her sister's name, after all.
What was more surprising, though, was Harry's magic.
There was the sense of it surging like waves in a storm, mercurial and inconstant as it ebbed and flowed according to his mood.
That was gone, now. All of Harry's magic seemed to come together in a single purpose.
At that moment, Snape knew that Harry had once again bucked the trend: going his own way and making his own mark in the magical world, as only he could do.
"Ah," he said enigmatically. "It seems you've finally found your reason, Harry."
Harry looked confused at that, up until Snape continued.
"Come on, we can at least wait for your other uncle to show up."
That snapped Harry out of it.
"Yes, he said he was coming here in an hour or two, see how Aunt Petunia and Lily are doing," Harry said, and noticed the flash of pain in the Defense Professor's eyes.
Until Harry's Uncle Gil showed up, the two of them just sat in the waiting room, thinking about what had just happened.
It didn't take long until the TSAB official arrived, and it was not too long after Harry's other aunt woke up from her nap.
The Potions master was treated to the sight of Vernon Dursley's sister telling a military man how glad she was that he was able to straighten someone like Harry out.
As Marjorie Dursley went into another rant about military discipline, Admiral Graham found himself quite entertained by how well the civilian understood TSAB culture. To him, it was uncanny… and it was a good opportunity for Harry and Professor Snape to themselves take a small break of their own.
Several minutes later, the Dursley siblings left to purchase supplies, leaving Dudley to look after his mother and sister. Meanwhile, in the waiting room, there was a hurried exchange going on.
"I think his magic has matured, Mr. Graham."
"I sensed it upon my arrival here," the admiral concurred. "Harry's Linker Core has stabilized… which means yes, his magic has indeed crossed that threshold."
"What does that mean?" Harry asked, curious.
"It means, your magic has oriented itself towards your purpose. Though still flexible, a certain part of it will be easier to access and more powerful when oriented towards it," Snape explained, a bitter expression on his face. "I can remember that time when it happened to me, like it was only yesterday."
By this time, Harry already knew that the professor's hateful looks weren't directed at him, but someone who looked like him. Low-level legilimency greatly helped in that regard. To his credit, Professor Snape turned away.
"How is his Linker Core, Ouroboros?"
Harry's magic has become much stronger with its maturation. It will take some time before he truly understands what this means.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
It means that while the spells you can cast as second nature won't be affected, learning new spells or magical exercises will take more effort. Thankfully, you have a solid foundation and regimen to fall back on.
The Witch… was just reminded again, I should thank her.
There will be time for that.
"Ah, yes. Harry… you were born with an above-average linker core. Not only that, your magic was actively keeping the entity that later became Ouroboros at bay, and later grew to fill the void it left behind when it was removed from you. It's only gotten stronger through time and training," Graham explained. "At this point, your magical maturation has caused your linker core to reinforce itself significantly."
"Uncle Gil," Harry asked, "How will it affect my Device usage?"
"Oh, that remains to be seen," the admiral answered. "One thing I can say with certainty is that your magical capacity has increased. Exhausting yourself casting magic in training or during times of crisis… it's caused your magic to adapt accordingly."
Any further explanation was interrupted when the two Dursleys entered the ward.
Warrior and Scholar
"You've found your reason."
The words resonated within Harry's heart deeply, and upon his return to Hogwarts, the fire inside of him was stoked to the point of raging, where he devoted himself to his studies and training wholeheartedly.
Though Professor Snape never explained how his magic maturing went, Harry was able to put two and two together and not ask the Defense professor about it, especially when his classes had become even more popular due to his demeanor changing.
Harry's presence at the remedial Defense classes had also been of great help to every Hogwarts student who felt short-changed from years prior.
During a weekend, he spared some time to meditate on himself, Harry found it strange: he learned better and faster after headlining a remedial Defense class and mock duels with his classmates.
Why is this happening?
Well, I think I have an idea. You know that saying: if you want to learn better, teach.
Don't tell me I'm turning into Professor Snape?
Not Professor Snape. You're following someone else's example.
Right.
Reassured by that fact, Harry redoubled his efforts, and just like that, the days melted away into weeks, and the weeks turned into months.
Before he knew it, Harry was now clutching the NEWT mock exam results in his hand, and it showed that he could potentially make history if he kept his momentum going.
You're going to break my record?
That was you?
Well, before all of the weird stuff happened, but yes. You ARE going to beat my record, aren't you?
I'll do my best, of course.
Of course? This doesn't count me being your Device, OF COURSE I'm going to help you to twelve NEWTS.
We're just at the halfway point, though.
Halfway my ass. The kind of progress we're making, you could take it right now.
I hope you're right, Tom… but there are still some things that are worrying me that are not academic.
As the sixth-year students staggered out of the Main Hall, looking like they just finished running from a nundu while under enemy howitzer fire, Harry had other things in mind.
Sure, the entire ordeal had also tuckered him out, the half of the mock exam earning the meaning behind the amusing acronym, which was why he wasn't walking as briskly as he usually did.
Still, only his closest acquaintances and classmates saw him truly fatigued; he didn't mind the satisfied looks on their faces when they realized that NEWTs were still 'the great equalizer' in terms of cutting students down to size.
Hogwarts had an odd policy of pairing their end-of-term exams for sixth year as half of a mock exam for NEWTs, which were scheduled a bit earlier than the end of term, so students were given a week or two to reorient themselves academically based on their test results, choose alternate career paths, and other matters students would be benefited to know ahead of time.
That was on paper, though.
In actuality, students would tend to use the free time given to decompress and compensate for all the work they did for the past school year, hence all the House parties, the final match of the quidditch House Cup, the leaving feast. For the fifth, sixth and seventh years, the tail end of the school year was typically festive in nature, and this year was no exception.
Harry, on the other hand, wanted to spend this week doing some actual decompression, and just relax. No simulations, no training, no remedial Defense, no being a gofer between Professors Dumbledore and Slughorn, none of those things.
He was looking forward to all that free time to do absolutely nothing when he received a summons from his nominal Head of House.
Wondering what that was all about, he weaved through the halls and took well-memorized steps towards the office of Professor Pomona Sprout.
Selling Yourself Short
Now that Harry thought about it, he hadn't had a chance to see what Professor Sprout's office was like: because of all those nightly visits, he knew the route, but because of the time of day and his state of mind (he was this close to taking one of the Hufflepuff girls up on their offer, but Ouroboros replaying that thing he watched with Dudley several months ago worked better than a cold shower), he could never spare a moment to see the details.
He waited until the head of Hufflepuff House took up the seat at her desk and motioned him to sit down.
Once they were comfortable, she broke the ice.
"I assume you know why you're here," she said, and Harry shook his head.
"Ever since the first night of classes when you dropped by my office, I have done everything possible to stop my house from visiting you at night," she began, and seemed to ignore Harry making a face. "You might be 'nominally' a member of this House, but my door has been always open to you."
The walls seemed to close in on Harry as a feeling of confinement began to wash over him. He closed his eyes took a deep breath to compose himself, and when he opened them again, the office returned to its usual look.
"My apologies," he admitted. "I was thinking more in a fight or flight manner at the time; I was unsure who to trust in this House, whether all of you were working together to keep me out of it."
"You think too poorly of your betters, Mr. Potter," she said; though her tone was gentle, the admonishment still hit straight and true. "Though… I think it comes with being of that age: nobody your age ever really believes that their elders truly care about their welfare."
Harry sighed.
"It's a lot more than that."
"It is, indeed," Professor Sprout concurred. "Being not only Severus' apprentice, but his confidante… I have to admit, I envied having that kind of connection. But given how he is… I'm not surprised that out of the entire faculty, he has the greatest kinship with you… after Professor Pennyworth and the Witch of Dun Scaith, of course."
Harry's retort froze as he noticed that the head of Hufflepuff House was seeing through him so easily, without the need of occlumency.
"Ah, that answers a question that has been bothering me, about why you have not indulged yourself with your housemates, even as they freely offered themselves to you in their misguided attempt to bring you back in the fold, so to speak."
She laughed.
"Though I wonder, do you even consider what they think, the reason why they have been throwing themselves at you nightly?"
Harry shook his head.
"What would they want with someone like me?"
"Is that a rhetorical question, Mr. Potter?" she asked, and when Harry shook his head again, she continued. "You do not quite understand the status you have at this school: the Boy-Who-Lived, winner of the Triwizard Tournament, apprentice of Hogwarts, carries the favor of Severus Snape, also teaches his own Defense Against the Dark Arts remedial class… shall I keep going?"
"I'm not a prefect, Professor," Harry said in a lame attempt to add humor to the conversation.
"You're not," Professor Sprout said with a grin on her face. "But come next year, when they decide on who gets to be Head Boy or Head Girl, well…"
"I don't think I like where this is going."
"No matter how you feel about it, it's heading there anyway," she replied. "Faculty aside, you are the strongest wizard in the school, so why are you surprised that your House has decided as a group that you are the biggest prize in the student body?"
He shrugged.
"It's not like that," Harry admitted. "A lesser man would have given into whoever offered on his first night here. I could have had my pick of the litter… but I choose not to."
"I thought that returning them to you would be the end of it, but it seems my House has a rule that whoever denies them is, and I quote, 'playing hard to get', and is therefore an even bigger prize."
Professor Sprout shrugged.
"That's just how it is with teenage girls and women, Harry. I've been here for decades and have seen it happen many times."
"Can't they control themselves?" Harry asked.
"I assume you have heard of the saying 'using the wrong head to think with'," the head of Hufflepuff House replied. "Consider this the feminine equivalent of that."
Harry scrunched up his face in a bad mix of disbelief and disgust about that revelation.
"You're wondering why," Professor Sprout continued. "Humanity is a mess of contradictions and secrets enough as it is: give them a means to alter reality on a whim, and those contradictions only become more contradictory…"
"…while their secrets become more secretive," Harry finished. "I think I understand a bit of it now. What do you think I should be doing, moving forward?"
"Only you know the answer to that question, Harry."
Professor and student spent a minute in a companionable silence, until she spoke up.
"But… if you ask me, you've been doing a fabulous job so far. I'm sorry I couldn't be of much help with your trouble with your house mates."
Harry shook his head.
"You've been doing what you can," Harry replied magnanimously, now knowing that Professor Sprout wasn't in on whatever happened in fourth and fifth year. "Besides, it's hard to stay mad at them; they're kids. You really can't blame a child for acting like a child… especially when their hormones start kicking in and all."
Before Harry left the office, he and Professor Sprout spent a few more minutes talking about what to do next about the night visits, and Pomona promised the best of her House that she'd at least try to explain the score with Harry Potter to Hufflepuff House as best she could.
Hopefully that would set the matter straight and finally allow him a good night's sleep, enough for him to wake up without the likes of Megan Jones using him as an oversized bolster, for example.
Face/Off
Unfortunately for Harry, he had only enjoyed a few days of rest and relaxation when he was summoned by the Defense professor.
He was still irked at that, but knew that he had to be on his best behavior, since Professor Snape had been working with the headmaster on some sort of project ever since the end of year exams-slash-mock NEWTs were finished.
That and the man had been running himself ragged. There was a time and place to be a snarky teenager, and this was not it.
Now, Harry found himself at the headmaster's office, where Professor Dumbledore was talking about the information that he had gained from Professor Slughorn, and Harry might be able to help in sensing where a certain Dark artifact might be.
He agreed, and after a short stroll to Hogsmeade, they used Apparition to get to their destination.
After overcoming the twisting sensation of a side-along Apparition, Harry found himself on a beach, looking at the rough seas and waves.
"What are we doing here, Professor?"
"I have it on good information that the artifact we need is somewhere here," Professor Dumbledore answered. "Do you not sense the dark magic in this area?"
Harry scrunched up his nose in disgust before closing his eyes and letting what his Master called the 'sense of wonder' spread out of him.
He could feel the headmaster's magical power, as well as the wondrous nature of the wand in his hand, and focused on the cave ahead. There were lots of magical charms, potions, and…
…Are those zombies?
Technically, they're inferi.
And in our remedial defenses, inferi are corpses reanimated by magic, so…
A rose by any other name… is still a rose?
Seems so. The dark magic of this place is also preserving a corpse in the water that hasn't been touched by the inferi. Amazing.
Indeed, it is amazing.
This is odd, though. Professor Dumbledore said that we're looking for a Dark artifact. All that's here are protections, charms, zombies, and a corpse that was apparently waylaid by the defenses here.
You don't sense anything else?
No… it's like a choke point, with all these charms and protections here. The question is, what are these things protecting?
Wait a minute. Is this the point of the location? Put all these defenses over a decoy or something?
Ouroboros?
Tom?
Harry Potter opened his eyes, only to see the business end of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's wand, the old wizard sporting a stern look on his face, even as he was ready to cast a spell immediately.
"Time to end the charade, Harry… Tom."
A red light flashed briefly across the afternoon skies on the seaside cave.
Albus Dumbledore was an old wizard who had seen nearly everything possible in life, so it was rare for him to find himself surprised.
Yet, for all his experience, he could not quite hide the surprise he was feeling, because right now, Harry Potter was standing a few feet away from him, set in a combat stance, clad in the robes he wore during the Triwizard Tournament, and holding a silver staff with a green orb on one end in one hand defensively.
He silently cursed himself for not nipping this at the bud when he had the golden opportunity to; he could say that the boy had succumbed to his wounds, and people would accept his truth verbatim, because he was Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, and that would have been that.
But there was something in the boy that stopped him.
It wasn't that Harry was walking the path of Tom Riddle.
It was that Harry was walking the path Tom Riddle did… had the matter of the Chamber of Secrets not taken place.
He was absolutely sure that the boy would have an inordinate amount of power and influence… that, and he also knew Harry would lash out, if he had known the story of his parents and the Order.
There were many chances for him to make a move against Harry Potter, but each time, Harry seemed to show off yet another aspect of him that he considered 'out of character', even for someone influenced by a Dark Lord.
So here he was now, a step too slow in casting the stunning charm, and now the biggest danger to Hogwarts was standing right in front of him, looking like he had expected this to happen all along.
"How long have you known, Professor?" Harry asked calmly.
How is he able to keep his composure at this time? Dumbledore wondered.
"Long enough," he replied. "The fact that you communicated with your Patronus in the tongue of serpents was one thing. Your popularity with the student body is another. And the power you wield… you are but a nascent Dark Lord set to rise. I failed to stop one before, and I won't fail to stop you now."
"Stop us from doing what?" the green orb asked, glowing. "Completing our education?"
"Don't play coy with me, Tom. I know how much of a silver tongue you have."
Ouroboros sighed.
"If you know what I am now, then you know that any and every capability of mine to influence the Boss was excised from me," the Device answered. "My primary directive is to work with, follow, and protect the Boss."
"That… is preposterous."
"As preposterous as the fact that I am the rebuilt remnants of the horcrux in Harry Potter's scar?"
"You're not supposed to…"
"I'm not supposed to do a lot of things. Heck, I'm not even supposed to be a lot of things. But I am here now, an Intelligent Device, helping Harry get through six years here. Hopefully, one more."
Harry sighed.
"Professor Dumbledore doesn't seem to be buying what you're selling, Tom. Maybe I should try."
He lowered Ouroboros to a less hostile state, but still guarded.
"Professor, could you ask me why I would try to do something against a place where I've had a lot of memories?" Harry asked.
"You were ostracized from your house," the headmaster answered. "That's more than enough motive for anyone to go Dark."
"Do I look like someone who cares what my House thinks?"
That question surprised Dumbledore – being sorted into Hufflepuff did make Harry more sociable, but all of it went out the window when the Triwizard came along, and the year after that. He had expected Harry to retaliate, and even now, was anticipating Harry to show hostility when his House was brought up…
…and again, Albus Dumbledore was surprised, because when it came to Hufflepuff, all his legilimency revealed was Harry's indifference.
But why, though?
Why choose to be an outlier?
And for that matter, even as an outlier, Harry still did have friends… there was Neville, Ron, Hermione, Luna Lovegood, even Roger Davies the alumnus and Triwizard participant also had a great opinion of him, despite his hostility during the tournament… what was going on?
Despite him holding the wand and having Harry Potter and the Dark Lord dead to rights, Albus Dumbledore found himself in an unfamiliar situation.
"Not if you wanted them to make a truly outlandish offering in exchange for your return into the fold…"
"Ask Professor Sprout," Harry replied with a roguish grin. "I've been getting night visitors from my fellow House members, and I've returned all of them to her."
The old wizard's mastery of occlumency helped stave off most of the frustration he was feeling.
Why has Harry Potter always zigged when everyone else expected him to zag?
"Say, Professor," Harry said, interrupting the headmaster's thoughts. "I don't suppose we can put our wands down and return to Hogwarts, can we?"
"I'm afraid I can't do that. Once I deal with you, there is still the matter of the locket."
"Sir…" Harry said. "There is no Dark artifact there."
"What?"
Harry's staff had vanished, and before either of them could blink, a wandless legilimens was already on its way towards Harry… and instead of dodging it, he took on the spell head-on.
"Sir. I've allowed you access to what the Witch called my 'sense of wonder'. Look over the cave. There is nothing there with a magical signature similar to Tom."
The headmaster willed it, and felt the charms, the tainted water in the lake, the inferi within, and the corpse of… wait a minute…
There was no Dark artifact here.
His eyes opened and he jerked back from the weight of the revelation.
"How did you know?"
"Professor, even though I'm a Device, I am still a horcrux of the one you know as Voldemort," Tom answered. "If there's anything Harry and I can sense with absolute accuracy, it is whether any artifacts nearby house his soul."
The old wizard's eyes widened even further.
"So… the tournament final… Cedric… and the dragon in Diagon Alley…"
Harry nodded.
"If you are what you say you are, why go through all this trouble, then?"
Harry closed his eyes and smiled.
"Allow me to tell you a story about an incident earlier this year, on New Year's Day."
When the New Year came to the Dursley household, it was met with a more atypical celebration.
Given Petunia's status, the family had a more subdued time: less fireworks, more sparklers, and much less alcohol.
Despite that, Vernon Dursley insisted on drinking his wife's share; 'taking one for the team', so he had said at the time.
Several hours after their small celebration, Dudley was helping his mother clean up in the dining room while Vernon was wrapping up the last of their celebratory wine in the living room.
Harry was about to go and assist with the cleaning, but the older Dursley put a hand on his shoulder.
"Sit down, boy," he half-said and half-slurred. "Got something you need to know."
He wanted to just go, but the solemn look on Uncle Vernon made him stop short, so he made himself comfortable.
"Let me get this out of the way first," he began as soon as he saw his nephew seated. "I still think you're a freak, and I still don't like you the same way I like my son."
"Okay… sir?"
"No, no, no. Let me finish," Vernon continued, waving a hand at him. "You know what happened the day after Graham came by with those girls of his?"
Harry shook his head.
"He put the fear of God into me and Petunia if we didn't do right by you after that day," he admitted, shaking as he remembered that moment. "Every couple weeks – we wouldn't know when – he'd show up. Give us gifts, but we knew, he'd be looking if we were doing what he said. Never knew when he'd appear. He'd be the boogeyman that first year."
He took another sip of the wine before continuing.
"It was a year after that when he dropped by again. Told us why he'd go through all that trouble for a freak like you. Know what he told me? He said that what we're doing is… what do you call it… a self-serving… self-cleaning… self-fluffing…"
"…Self-fulfilling prophecy?" Harry asked, and Vernon nodded enthusiastically, letting out a belch.
"Yes, that's right! A self-fulfilling prophecy. Said that the best way to make you not hate normal people growing up is to just treat you normal. Whatever we think, whatever we feel about you, we treat you correct anyway."
He laughed, though it was slightly tinged with bitterness.
"Well, would you look at that. I'd never believe it, but a freak like you would grow into a good man. Still don't… but… you've done right by us in return. And Dudley. You're a good man. Freak or not. That Graham fellow… he was right. Never believed what that old soldier said the first time… but he struck gold on that one, didn't he?"
"…He certainly did, sir."
"Chin up, boy! You're not just a good man, you are family," he declared. "Help your aunt and Dudley out."
"I will," Harry said, and he stood up to go.
"And Happy New Year," his uncle added as he passed him by.
"Happy New Year too, Uncle," Harry replied, turning back to see him raise his wine glass in a toast to him before he went to the kitchen to assist with the cleanup.
Everyone went to bed, and when they got up for breakfast the next morning, Vernon Dursley was good-naturedly complaining about his head aching a bit due to drinking the wine that was meant for his dear wife Petunia. He saw his nephew already setting the table, then giving him a nod.
For the life of him, he couldn't remember what he said and what happened after the fireworks and before bedtime.
Must have been something insignificant.
Life in 4 Privet Drive went on as usual after the holiday.
"What's this got to do with what's going on now?" Dumbledore asked, once Harry was done with his story.
"If I was raised by the Dursleys to dislike or hate them, then I'd turn into the thing they feared," Harry explained. "Someone told them a better solution, treat me normally, and I'd treat them normally back, avoiding a self-fulfilling prophecy."
"And you think I'm making another one here?"
"Because you think I'm this big threat to the school," Harry replied. "I mean, have I done anything that would add weight to your suspicions?"
"You've seen Tom's time here at school… before and after the chamber incident."
Ouroboros laughed.
"Professor, you must really think so little of me if I repeat my mistakes with Harry here," the Device said, "but that's neither here nor there."
Harry was prepared for another verbal confrontation between his Device and the headmaster when an idea struck him.
"Professor Dumbledore, how about this? Since my Device has the Dark Lord's repository of magical knowledge, I'll remove the curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position on my last day of school."
"If you know how the counter-curse works…"
"I would have done it immediately, but then, it would be so easy for you to get rid of me. This way, Tom and I have insurance."
The old man stiffened for a moment… and then started laughing out loud.
"I say…" he said after he regained his bearings. "You drive a very hard bargain, Harry. All right. You can consider yourself under my protection for your seventh year. But you had better be prepared to do what you promised."
Harry nodded.
"Of course. After all," Harry added, "once my seventh year here is through, this will be the last you will see of me."
The old wizard couldn't help it; pain was clearly written on his face when he heard of Harry's future plans.
"With how much trouble comes to you, I think that wherever you go would be better equipped to handle it than Hogwarts or this country's wizarding society," Dumbledore said after a while, earning a smile from Harry. "Now, let us return to Hogwarts. Wouldn't want to disturb the ones sleeping here."
"Are you planning to return? Get the corpse in the lake out?"
"In time, Harry."
Another twist later, and the two of them found themselves just outside of the Hog's Head… and looking up, where a familiar skull was lighting up the twilight skies above Hogwarts.
As Professor Dumbledore hurried inside to get some brooms, Harry just sighed.
This just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?
Indeed. For all your academic and extra-curricular activities, you have forgotten quite a few things along the way.
Don't remind me now.
"I am that man."
Because of the anti-apparition wards around Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, the headmaster of Hogwarts and the school's Apprentice found themselves in a bit of a bind, as they had to run… except Harry Potter summoned what he called his Device and just blatantly defied gravity.
"Jump on my back, Professor," Harry said urgently.
They made it to the main entrance in seconds, and when Dumbledore knocked on the door, it was the business end of the wands of Hogwarts faculty that met him.
"It is I," Dumbledore said calmly. "What has happened?"
"Someone cast the Dark Mark," the Deputy Headmistress replied. "The school is on lockdown while we search for the perpetrator. The intruder wards have activated, but the perpetrator has proven to be quite elusive."
Harry's mouth tightened into a thin line.
My former fan club is finally making its move.
Want to make a small wager as to who cast the spell?
Sucker bet.
"I still am not confident in leaving you by yourself, Harry," the headmaster said. "It is best you head down to the dungeons and meet with Professor Snape."
The professors saw a flash of distaste dart across his face, but with a quick "Yes, sir,", Harry made his way down the hallways leading to the dungeons.
"Halt, who goes there?" a terrifying rasp came as Harry found the entrance to the Slytherin common room. "Ah, the apprentice. What sequence is the Shoal of Four Branches?"
"Ingwaz, Nauthiz, Algiz… and Ansuz," Harry replied with confidence, and the Bloody Baron chuckled darkly at the answer.
"And you even got it in order, too. Enter, Apprentice. Your Mentor is within."
The door opened silently on well-oiled hinges, and Harry entered a scene of absolute chaos.
"Everyone, stay with your year mates!" he heard Pansy's shrill voice cutting through the cacophony. "Oh, Merlin… why did he choose to disappear at this time?"
Harry immediately made his way to her.
"What's wrong?"
"We're in lockdown, and I've been getting my assistants to do a head count," Pansy replied, her voice shaking. "We're all here, and I've run the countdown twice, but…"
"We have a snake in the grass?"
"How did you–" she said, momentarily surprised. "No matter. This is the fifth head count, Professors Snape and Vector are already on their second check of the castle."
"Any luck?"
"None," Pansy said, and Harry now could see how hard the sixth-year prefect was trying to keep it together. "Oh, if only I could get more from his two men Friday than 'urgent business'! I'd be of more help than herding snakes…"
"Well," Harry said, trying to add calm to his voice, "you're doing a good enough job holding up the fort."
She sighed.
"Daphne, Tracy and Blaise have been of great help with the lower years, it's good that Crabbe and Goyle have also assisted me, but it's been close to an hour, and I have a really bad feeling about…"
Whatever else she was planning to say died down when the door to the common room opened, and the two professors stepped in.
"Potter. What are you doing here?" Professor Snape asked.
"Professor Dumbledore arrived with me a few minutes ago, they're locking down the school. Said to go to the dungeons and stick with you," Harry replied. "Everyone's really on edge here. What's happening?"
"Draco Malfoy has vanished," the Defense professor replied, his voice even more solemn than usual.
Harry took a moment to size up the situation, and saw that Professor Vector was now talking to Pansy. He turned to Professor Snape, and lowered his voice.
"I'll be able to find Draco in a moment, if you'll allow me to help you with the search, sir," he said, and the Defense professor nodded his approval.
"Septima!" he called out. "I'm going for another round, maybe third time's the charm with my apprentice backing me up. You can take care of things here, won't you?"
She turned to Professor Snape.
"I will. Stay safe, the both of you."
"Yes, ma'am," Harry said, and then the two of them were out the door.
They were in the hallways when Harry already had Ouroboros in pendant form clutched in his hand.
"Ground control to Major Tom."
"Understood. Initiating Multi-Dimensional Lock."
Several moments later, the two of them were running to the Room of Requirement.
Harry had gone on ahead, and found someone staggering out of the room – their quarry, Draco Malfoy.
He weakly raised his wand arm at Harry when he heard the footsteps, only to find his wrist caught in an iron grip.
"Draco, your house mates have been looking for you!" he whispered. "I can smell the dark on that wand, too! Using a throwaway to cast the Mark?"
"You don't know what I've had to do," Draco retorted weakly. "I've put myself to the breaking point here!"
"Why go through all the trouble?" Harry asked back.
"My father… they have my father! I need to cooperate with them!"
"Tell me what kind of fuck-up you've done, Draco," Harry said after letting out a sigh. "I can't cover for you any more, you know this. But at least we can get our stories lined up right."
Mere moments until Snape arrived, Draco confessed.
"I have to create a diversion. The man who has my father needs to speak with Dumbledore, and he cannot be seen here."
"So, you cast the Dark Mark?"
"What else was I supposed to do?"
"Malfoy," Snape's voice echoed in the dim light of the hallways, and with his dark cloak billowing behind him, strode forward like the dungeon bat he was purported to be by the students.
Draco closed his eyes and prepared for the worst.
"Run back to Slytherin House," Professor Snape said, wand at the ready and pointing at the doorway of the Room of Requirement. "Now."
He didn't need to be told twice, and immediately made himself scarce.
"Harry," he added, voice a knife's edge, "with me."
It was the second time Harry had placed Ouroboros in combat mode this day, and as he pointed the Device at the door, he found himself anticipating a long, knock-down, drag-out fight.
Moments passed, and as the tension grew, Harry could feel a bead of cold sweat roll down his brow.
Something that seemed like the aftermath of magical transport erupted from within the Room, and a few moments later, the doorknob began to turn.
Snape and Harry readied themselves for the worst.
"I surrender!" a voice came from within the Room of Requirement, and when the door was flung open, a wizard was within, arms raised in surrender and wand on the floor.
When he saw the welcoming party, the unnatural grin on his face made Harry think that something was not quite right here.
Stay alert.
I know.
"Apologies on making my poor errand boy cast the Dark Mark on my behalf," the wizard continued. "It was the only thing I could think of that could shock this school into hiding… and it did a very good job of it, I say."
Snape picked up the wand. Another throwaway.
"Standard operating procedures during a lockdown at this school is three hours," the wizard kept going, even as he was being marched down the hallways. "That means I have… an hour to speak with Headmaster Dumbledore."
"You started all this just so you could speak to Professor Dumbledore?"
The blond wizard scoffed.
"He still makes others call him 'Professor'? Pardon my Belgian, but that is the humblest way to brag I've ever heard," he said insouciantly. "Oh, where are my manners. My name is Thorfinn Rowle."
Snape gave Rowle a skeptical look, but motioned for him to keep walking. As the large wizard was being taken to the headmaster's office, Harry was in conversation with his Device.
This is too weird, even for me.
How come?
Do you sense it?
Sense what? Magic?
Or the lack thereof.
Son-of-a… you're right, Tom! This guy is just a shade short of being a squib. No magical power whatsoever.
And judging by how Snape is watching him like a hawk, I think he also knows this now.
I still don't get it. Why is a Death Eater squib doing all this?
Looks like we'll find out soon enough.
They knocked on the door of the headmaster's office, and when Dumbledore bid them enter, the old wizard saw the man they were bringing in, and his eyes started to spark.
Not twinkle, not sparkle, but spark – as if the headmaster's gaze was boring holes into the intruder.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
Harry and Snape were about to leave: Snape back to the dungeons and Harry towards the apprentice's quarters when the intruder spoke up.
"Harold Graham or Harry Potter. Severus Snape. Whatever that thing is that you call a wand. Please, stay. This also concerns you," the wizard said in answer to Dumbledore's question, his tone of voice dramatically changing.
"I never expected you to take these measures."
"Neither did I," the wizard said. "I assume you've heard the news?"
"What do you mean… the Death Eaters have been raided. Malfoy Manor was locked down and the aurors got most of them. Those Death Eaters?"
"Oh, please, Albus. Those weren't Death Eaters. Just a bunch of stupid kids fresh out of Hogwarts who think the real world is just magic school with extra steps. Life's going to put them on the back foot too far for them to worry about that outdated way of thinking."
"What about the other Death Eaters?"
"There are none left, Albus."
"You're standing before me."
"Lucius Malfoy is only holding himself together through sheer willpower to get to the end of next year, to see his son graduate. I don't think you truly understand what's going on… Albus."
The man's voice grew dark as he continued speaking.
"You're talking about Brazil."
"Yes, I am talking about Brazil… and what happened down there."
"We still don't have a complete account of what happened in the jungle. Paraña, the ICW, Aurors, even MACUSA… all of them have conflicting accounts over the Brazil events. Don't tell me you know what's going on."
"Not as much as I like. Only that I went here at great personal cost, because of my link with my personal biographer."
Dumbledore's eyes widened as he let out a strained gasp.
"Then… I never thought…" he trailed off, and the large man began to shrink, his features aging as the transformation magic began to wear off.
A familiar face was looking at Albus Dumbledore.
"Why would you go this far…" Dumbledore asked. "Gellert?"
"Gellert…?" Harry asked.
"…Grindelwald?" Snape asked.
"One and the same," the old wizard answered.
Dumbledore felt the faint trickle of power coming from his old rival, and shook his head.
"You forsook everything just to come here," he said. "Why?"
"Remember our promise?" Grindelwald asked, closed his eyes for a moment, and then laughed. "No… not THAT promise. The one before that, the one when we were much younger."
Dumbledore closed his own eyes for a second, cataloging his memories… and then they shot open.
"You've had a change of heart?"
"Not really," Grindelwald replied. "Time has softened my heart, but I still believe my course is just. But you have felt it, haven't you? Something has come to life. Something that spells doom for the entire world."
He took a deep breath.
"Something That Should Not Be."
"This was why you sacrificed all but a mite of your magic to escape," Dumbledore said, after a minute of tense silence passed in the headmaster's office. "Typical of you."
"That, and I was able to abscond with what Rowle had written before he was ordered to Brazil," Grindelwald admitted before turning towards Snape and Harry. "There are details I need to discuss with Albus privately. You will be informed about what they are in the passing of time."
"Yes, yes," the headmaster concurred. "These details are not for either of you to know for the time being."
Somehow, as Harry returned to the apprentice's quarters and Snape to the dungeons, he could feel the sincerity in the old Dark Lord's words – there was something running around that scared someone like Gellert Grindelwald enough for him to escape from prison and warn his old enemy at Hogwarts about it.
What was it…?
These thoughts followed Harry Potter into a fitful slumber.
Year 6, Part 4 - END
More notes: Aunt Marge thinks Harry's doing well at St. Brutus, but that's just two years of training under the Witch of Dun Scaith... and Vernon can't be bothered to correct his sister. Also, in this story, Marge has become wealthy due to her job as a veterinarian. She is a single mother, though her son was born way before Harry's time, and moved away when he was of age (which is why she had some experience helping Petunia out with her second child).
Not completely satisfied with the scene where Dumbledore confronts Harry and Tom the Device. I will most likely write Dumbledore's further thoughts about the seaside cave confrontation to after the next event, a kinda sorta proof that Harry isn't the second coming of Tommy Boy Albus thinks he is.
You might think that someone from Hufflepuff has already gotten to sleep with Harry. That has not yet happened. The line about Megan Jones is Harry visualizing it. Think of an Ally McBeal visual gag and that's what it is.
And yes, Harry getting a magical equivalent of Dragon Ball Z's zenkai boost on multiple occasions, thanks to Scathach's training, will be important in 7th year.
(Also yes, Professor Sprout indirectly called Snape a manchild because of how well he relates to Harry being a 'teenage rebel'.)
Finally, Gellert Grindelwald's ability to transform into Thorfinn Rowle is also a part of how he was able to escape prison.