AN: What's this? A double Potter update, la gasp! Deadly Belladonna's second-to-last update is up.

Chapter 8 - Dumbledore's Pet

Something has changed at Hogwarts, somewhere between the cold stones and shifting stairs. Yet nothing is truly different.

It's as if the world has drawn her breath and held it.

This summer was strange.

I felt like I'd been trapped in our old house, standing in the doorway with those little purple flowers in my hands which I had carefully chosen and gathered for my mum.

I felt like I had, watching her stand there at her cauldron, golden haired and magnificent, thoroughly unaware of what was to come as she was about to pour the white powder into her potion.

It seemed as though I had been living in this moment forever, in that moment where all terrible things are inevitable.

When I'm about to be blown back and she's about to be blown away, the purple flowers lost in the smoke.

And yet, somehow, the inevitable at Hogwarts has been rewritten. Nothing has changed but the possibility of change. All signs point to Harry, whether he is the cause or the product, I do not know.

When I look at him, the light around him bends as if he doesn't belong here or doesn't quite fit, but I know that he does, even if the rest hasn't caught up yet.

When he looks at me, the flowers are still in their fields and there is no smoke to be lost in.

I hope Harry will be my friend.

I thought Ginny was my friend, but time changes us, and I think she is just pretending now. Now, she smiles to be nice because we are neighbours. But that too is changing, she doesn't smile at me anymore.

To be fair, Harry is pretending too. He's breathed in his own smoke and he's pretending it doesn't hurt.

Luna Lovegood's Dairy 21st of September 1995

oOo

Tonight would be their first real club meeting.

Previous club meetings had been held, twice, in Myrtle's bathroom because this hall had been being 'cleaned' by Flich. And those meetings had been more of a group study session where everyone complied with what they needed help with the most on the tests.

Eventually, the seventh years, led by the Slytherins, had taken to quizzing Harry about defensive spells.

He hadn't gotten a single question wrong.

"He finally cracked," Draco said as they all watched Harry paced before a bare wall on the seventh floor.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Ron said even as he was thinking the same.

On Harry's third rotation of pacing, and muttering "I need a room for us to practice in," the wall rippled and a pair of wooden doors appeared in an elegantly carved archway.

"The Room of the Requirement," Hermione breathed, "I read about this in a Hogwarts, a History."

Harry pushed those double doors open, revealing a large hall. "Everyone in," he ordered.

"Didn't Dumbledore use this as a bathroom once?" George asked.

"We used it as a broom closet once," Fred remarked.

"How did you find this place?" Hermione asked in awe.

"Dobby," Harry said as he scanned the faces entering the room, doing a mental count.

"My ex-house elf?" Draco asked.

Harry nodded. The doors shut behind the last to enter and Harry clapped twice to get everyone's attention. "Alright, so like I've been saying, we will be starting with the basics before getting into more complicated spells."

Hermione raised her hand.

Harry caught a sigh, things had been tense between them but they seemed okay for the moment, "Yes, Hermione?"

"I think we need a name," she said.

Anything but Dumbledore's Army, he thought.

"I think we should be called Dumbledore's Army, DA for short," she finished.

A few murmured agreements from the group, a few of the Gryffindors cheered, and the entire Slytherin fraction remained absolutely silent.

"Maybe we should go with something the majority of us like," Harry suggested.

"The majority of us do like it, aside from the Slytherins," Justin Finch-Fletchley sneered.

Harry allowed himself the sigh this time, of course, they couldn't let be easy.

"How about Owl Studies?" Harry posed. "That way if someone says the whole of it people will either think we are studying for our OWL's which the majority of us are or we can say we are literally studying owls."

"Hedwig can be our mascot," Susan threw in with a smile. "She's such a pretty bird."

"But that isn't cool," Ron said, "Dumbledore's Army is cool. Hermione was saying as we were coming in that it is what Fudge is most afraid of."

"Then it would be stupid to name our group something that calls attention to us," Blaise Zabini said.

"Besides not everyone likes Albus Dumbledore," Astoria said, crossing her arms.

"Harry likes Dumbledore," Ron shot back. He looked towards Harry and was dismayed by Harry's pinched expression. "Don't you, Harry?"

He coughed, "Er, well I like Hedwig more than the Headmaster."

He really didn't want to think about his opinion of the Headmaster, it had been something he had avoided rather well since serving his death at his instruction.

"But you do like him, right?" Ron asked.

"If it's a choice between Hedwig and the Headmaster, I'm choosing my bird," Harry said, several people sniggered. "At least she's my friend."

Hedwig didn't want him to die.

"Harry," Hermione chided, "the Headmaster is our friend."

"Just because I'm his pet 'Golden Boy; doesn't make him my friend and it certainly doesn't mean that I have to like him," he snapped.

Some of the group exchanged looks. Blaise cursed and handed Daphne Greengrass a galleon, presumably, for losing a bet.

"Bird Club it is then," Theodore Nott interjected. "Can you all quit wasting my time now?"

Harry had never liked a Slytherin classmate more, with an air of relief he began the lesson. He drew his wand, "The Disarming Spell is one of the simplest and most useful spells in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Without their wand an opposing witch or wizard has-"

Finch-Fletchley had opened his mouth and Harry pointed his wand at him. "If you don't like what I'm teaching then get yourself gone, I am not forcing anyone to be here."

There was a brief silence. No one, not even Finch-Fletchley made for the exit.

"Right then, as I was saying, a witch or wizard has limited options. This spell also works on opponents with weapons, such as knives, swords, axes, shovels, quills- basically, anything someone is holding is fair game. Here are the motions and the pronunciation."

He showed them, disarming a dummy that appeared on the far side of the room.

"Try focusing on your aim. For those who feel really comfortable with it, can try practicing the spell silently." Harry had no idea what the seventh-year Slytherins were capable of, he was just glad that none of them was on the Slytherin Quidditch team.

As in the past, the first ten minutes were a chaotic example of all the reasons why becoming a professor wasn't an often sought-after position in the wizarding world.

This time, they did have an even number of people when excluding Harry, so that Neville was paired with Hannah Abbott. Harry was very glad that he had wrote a note to Flitwick over the summer about Neville needing a new wand because the pair was evenly matched now, maybe Neville was even a bit stronger.

Harry didn't stop the group, he walked through the pairs making suggestions as he went.

The Slytherins were about even with the rest of the class though the purebloods had an obvious leg up with their Latin and body formation, their aim however…

Harry used a shield charm to stop an over charged spell from knocking Cho Chang upside the head.

"Judge how much power you need to take a wand out of someone's hand," Harry said, raising his voice for all to hear rather than pointing out the individual, who in this case had been Astoria Greengrass. "The more power you push into this spell the better your aim needs to be as a lower charged Disarming Spell isn't forced to go in a straight line."

Two hours later everyone had gotten the spell, the seventh years all having managed to accomplish it silently, including the twins.

"That was good-" Harry said calling their meeting to close.

"Wait," one of the seventh year Slytherin boys called, "I want to see you perform the spell against someone."

"What's your name?" Harry asked.

"Maximillion Ulysses," he said.

Harry waved him forward, "Well you just volunteered so step forward, someone give us a countdown."

Luna stepped out of the bystanders and counted, "Three… two…" She seemed to get distracted by something floating over their heads before getting to the last number.

Hermione made a harsh impatient sound in the back of her throat, before calling out, "Three, two, one, go!"

Maximillion's wand was flying in the air before the seventh year could twitch his wrist, Harry caught the wand and tossed it back to him.

Maximillion grinned, "You can call me Max, Potter."

Harry smiled back, "Well, that's the Disarming Charm. Let me know what days everyone has Quidditch practice and if times don't line up we can do two half classes early in the mornings before breakfast."

People left smiling and chatting.

"Wait so is this the OS, Owl Studies or BC, Bird Club?" someone asked as they moved out of the room in groups of fours.

Harry was surreptitiously checking the map as they left. It was a Saturday and they were all well within curfew and Umbridge hadn't begun making her ridiculous mandates yet.

"I think it should be OSC, Owl Studies Club," another person said as they left.

"Harry?" a soft voice said from behind him.

He turned to see Cho looking at her feet. "Did you need something?" he asked.

"Um, no, I was- that is, I just wanted to say- you're a great teacher," she stuttered.

"Thanks," Harry said, laughing internally. He would be doing cartwheels if he had still been fifteen. Now? It was just amusing not to be the flustered one.

"Well, I'll just…" her voice cracked and her face turned bright pink. "See you around," she finished in a squeak.

Harry was smiling as he tried not to chuckle at his first crush's antics. It was funnier now that Cedric wasn't dead just graduated.

Hermione approached him, eyes narrowed, "I thought you liked her?"

"I did," Harry said, eyes checking the room to see who was lingering. Susan, Astoria, Luna, Ron, and Hermione were the only ones left.

"But not anymore?" Hermione questioned.

"Not anymore," Harry agreed, stepping around her to talk with his other classmates.

"You got over her quick," she said as he passed.

"I didn't really know her, it wasn't that hard to get over her," Harry said, just out of earshot of the others.

Ron and Hermione left together after that.

"Hi," Harry greeted.

"You are a good teacher," Astoria said almost grudgingly.

Susan smiled, "It was a lot of fun!"

"B.B.C.E." Luna said.

"What?" Harry asked, tilting his head a bit.

Luna smiled brilliantly at him, "Best Bird Club Ever."

He laughed.

Inevitably, everyone ended up calling Bird Club and occasionally, they called Harry the Bird Master. While Luna shortened it to Best Bird.

Who was Harry to argue, Hedwig was, after all, the best bird.

oOo

Harry smiled warmly at Snape who was clearly biting back a snarl.

Harry had been assigned the tempmental potion that typically took at least two people to accomplish on his own. Ron and Hermione had joined Neville, Hermione ensuring that their cauldron didn't blow up, Neville ensuring that they would barely scrape a passing grade for the day much to Hermione's annoyance.

Harry's potion, however, was flawless.

"Bring up your flasks and clean up," Snape hissed. "Potter, stay behind."

The class seeing the man's obvious frustration hurried to get done and out of the room.

"Tell me, Potter," Snape began, teeth clenched, "How does someone as abomismal as you at potions advance so quickly."

"I read some extra books and paid attention while I brewed."

"Which you admit to chosing not to do in years past," Snape sneered.

Harry shrugged, "I gave up truly trying in this class when you punished me on the first day for taking notes, which you would have known had you bothered to look past your nose.

"You must have practiced brewing outside of class," Snape said, by passing the criticism.

He had, but Harry wasn't about to admit to being three years older to Snape. "It's like baking."

Snape raised a brow, "And how long have you been baking?"

"I have been cooking and baking, since I four."

Snape's eyes narrowed, "Four is too young to reach the stove."

"Aunt Petunia was ever so kind enough to lend me a stool," Harry said sweetly.

"Somehow I doubt you were a genius adolescent. Did your Aunt and Uncle eat the food you made?"

Harry fought back a flinch, that first year had been difficult.

And painful. "I wasn't exactly making meals at four, I mostly boiled water and stirred."

By six he was making meals on his own while his Aunt baked.

"I wouldn't have trusted you in a kitchen," Snape remarked.

Harry only just managed to not roll his eyes before saying innocently, "I learned quick to carry heavy pots with both hands."

Snape frowned, his demeanour shifting, "Were you ever hurt?"

This time Harry did roll his eyes, "It's a kitchen, I was tiny, what do you think?"

Snape shook his head, "I still can't image you were any good a making food that young."

"It was either get good or dodge frying pans."

Snape stared him down. Harry looked away first, breaking eye contact, fearing this game.

"I believe it is time we start you Occlumency lessons. I'll see you Friday night," Snape entoned.

"What am I supposed to tell people? It's not like I need remedial potions," Harry said with a smirk.

He remembered being humiliated last time, he was all to happy to make this harder for Snape and Dumbledore this time around.

"You will tell them you have detention for talking back to your professor," Snape said, glaring at Harry as if he were his father returned from the dead to haunt him.

Harry's false cheer ended the moment the potions room's door shut behind him. He needed to learn to protect his mind before Snape got a shot at him again. The man might be trying to keep him in alive but he was too deep in Dumbledore's pocket. Harry didn't hate the Headmaster, but Harry wasn't going to be strangled by his own leash this time.

oOo

Harry should have been in Arithmancy right now, yet at the moment he was sitting in Albus Dumbledore's office wondering if a person could read minds through stone floors.

"Harry, my boy," Dumbledore said jovilly, "lemon drop?"

"No, thanks," Harry said, glancing up, briefly.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, and Harry looked to Fawkes to avoid eye contact. Fawkes sang a few notes at him in greeting.

Harry couldn't help smiling a bit in response.

"Harry do you know why you're here?"

"No," he answered honestly.

"Minerva asked at the last staff meeting if every teacher would challenge you a bit more in your classes. She seems to feel you are more advanced the rest of your classmates."

Harry frowned, "I am not doing much better than Hermione."

"Minerva thinks you have barely begun to scratch your potential."

Harry didn't know what to say to that.

Dumbledore waited, and finally said, "I disagree with her."

Harry frowned and hated himself for feeling hurt that Dumbledore didn't think better of him. Why does it still matter to me what this man thought?

Harry didn't have an answer for that either.

"I don't think you should be given extra work. As it is, you seem to be distancing yourself from Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore continued.

"We haven't-" Harry started. "They haven't liked me doing better in class. Ron hates that I have been studying so much."

"Perhaps you are studying too much, Harry," Dumbledore chided gently. "You deserve to have a childhood."

Rage, hot, blinding rage filled his gut, his veins.

Heat rushed up his face and Harry closed his eyes as the fury tingled along his scalp. Childhood? What childhood? His tongue felt heavy. The injustice of this man, this man, telling him he deserved a childhood after what Harry had suffered, after watching Sirius die, after Dumbledore allowing himself to be killed, after walking making Harry walk to his death, to speak of a childhood?

He didn't know if he wanted to cry or throttle the old coot.

It took time before Harry found enough to say quietly, "You want me to hold back? You don't want me to fight?"

You want me willing, to be your willing sacrifice.

"No, I want you to spend time with your friends. Our friends are our greatest gift in this life," Dumbledore said.

"Well maybe I want better friends," Harry said venomously.

He wasn't that mad at Ron and Hermione, well maybe he was mad at the way both of them had been treating Luna but Harry understood that his changes had been unnerving for them. His time travelling wasn't their fault and he had planned to be patient with them. They were his friends, and he would wait for them to grow up some before pouring the truth down their throats.

But of course, Dumbledore didn't know that.

Dumbledore frowned, "Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley have been extremely loyal to you through your years at Hogwarts."

Harry crossed his arms, he was eighteen but it was easy enough to lean into his outward appearance as a fifteen years old body. If Dumbledore wanted to treat him like a normal student, then immature teenage coming right up.

He sunk a little in his seat. "I don't want to talk about this," he sulked.

"My boy, who else are you going to talk with?"

Harry felt a stab in his heart, he had been so isolated growing up at Hogwarts, without Hermione and Ron, he had had literally no one.

He had Sirius, briefly, but Harry had been so worried about him that he had never really depended on his godfather.

This time though, he wasn't so very alone. His new friendships were tenuous, but he already knew his club would fly to the Ministry of Magic for him. He did have a real relationship with Sirius now, one Dumbledore had no part in.

Harry had Professor Flitwick who had never bought into all of Dumbledore's tricks, being one of the only powerful professors at the school who wasn't a part of the Order of the Pheonix.

"I have Sirius," Harry said, the hunching in of his shoulders was not as pretend as he wanted it to be.

"Talking with Sirius-"

"You know instead of lecturing me about my study habits, you could be trying to get my godfather free," Harry muttered.

"My boy, it isn't that easy-"

"It never is."

"Harry," Dumbledore sighed. "In my long years, I have often found the world appears very small. Either from living only in our own perspective or because the patterns of history so often repeat themselves. The world is so very connected that the answers we find seem obvious. It becomes hard once we have found an answer to remember the journey in which that answer was unknown to us. You may feel that you have in some way outgrown your friends but I would urge you not to cut them out of your life.

"True friendship is hard to come by and no matter how different you may feel from those around you, right now, know that they are as human as you. They have struggled to find their own answers."

Answers? What answers? Harry thought, closing his eyes. He had no answer.

He had died; died for his friends and the people at this school. Died because he had trusted and loved Albus Dumbledore like some domesticated pet.

But Harry had no answers, no answers at all. He didn't know if his death had succeeded in laying waste to Voldemort, if anyone had killed Nagini, if his death had led to anything except the victory of the Dark Lord.

Harry didn't know if there even was a future. By going back in time, had he erased the future he had come from? What had he died for? Why had he time travelled? Was this reality real at all?

"Harry, what happened in the graveyard?" Dumbledore asked kindly, like a cherished grandfather.

"Wormtail got away," Harry said hollowly. "So did Voldemort."

"You were gone for a long time."

He has no idea, Harry thought. He looked out the window. So much had happened in the next three years, so much could happen.

"It took a while," Harry answered, eyes focused on the grey clouds. Darker clouds were building. It was likely to rain soon.

"A while for what?" Albus coaxed.

"To gather my bearings."

Albus nodded and motioned to the door, "You may go to your next class, I shall not keep you any longer, but I want you to know I will always be here for you, Harry."

Harry's throat dried up, his mind spinning; liar, liar, LIAR!

As Harry stood he realised something, realised why he didn't just tell Dumbledore the truth, the future as it had stood. Because if he told the Headmaster then he would have to confront the old wizard on how he could groom him for death.

Because deep down Harry knew Dumbledore had loved him and Harry knew that asking that question would hurt Dumbledore.

And if didn't, if Dumbledore didn't love him as Harry had loved the Headmaster, then…

Then what was it all for?

Why had he trusted him?

Why had allowed himself to be betrayed?

Used?

His whole life masterminded by two of the world's most powerful and heartless wizards.

So like a well trained dog, Harry kept quiet and didn't bite the hand that owned him.

oOo

AN: Reactions, chickadees, and thoughts, please?