Unofficial Portkey Archive

Wherein Harry corresponds with Dumbledore, Mr. Weasley and Cho Chang, sees Lao Kung, has a Voldemort-induced dream; Apparates for the first time, meets with Dumbledore and McGonagall; receives his OWL results; learns what is being done to rescue Hermione; is informed (somewhat) of his inheritance; arranges to be trained; chooses a legal guardian, learns about the situation with the goblins, receives a business proposition, and sets Dumbledore's beard on fire.

With this chapter most of the overall plot lines for this fic become apparent, although the nature of the Fifth Element itself remains to be revealed. I appreciate the kind words of my reviewers.

Disclaimer: I neither own nor claim any other rights in the characters and other concepts created by J.K. Rowling. I make no money, nor do I seek any commercial advantage from this work. As such it constitutes "fair use" as defined in 17 U.S.C. §107.

Chapter 4 - Meeting With Dumbledore

Lao Kung viewed Harry's training session as a valuable test of how well Harry could concentrate despite being distracted by disturbing events. The results were mixed. It took the boy considerably more time to achieve the necessary level of concentration. Once he succeeded, however, Harry was able to duplicate his prior efforts at wandless magic, although he did not show any significant improvement.

Harry spent most of the trip home from the gym explaining to Dudley what he knew about Hermione's situation and her present predicament in Hong Kong. His cousin was stunned by his matter-of-fact discussion of the wide assortment of dangerous activities that he undertook on a seemingly routine basis. "By anyone else's standards, you shouldn't be here anymore," was all Dudley could say.

Upon arriving home, Harry was relieved to find the green indicator shining on his communicator. Dumbledore had replied to his letter. He had also received owls from Arthur Weasley (in response to Harry's note to Ron) and, oddly, from Cho Chang. After relieving the fidgety birds of their messages and more or less cleaning up (thankfully, with magic) where the birds had relieved themselves during their wait, he read his correspondence in the order of its importance to him. Dumbledore's letter was similar to the warnings Harry had received from Lao Kung:

Mr. Potter:

Your valuable news regarding the recent adverse change in Miss Granger's situation confirms the wisdom of our being in constant communication. Your letter was the first indication I had received that this problem existed. I view it as a matter of utmost gravity.

As Hogwarts Headmaster, this is precisely the type of situation with which I am expected to deal. Let me handle this Mister Potter, please. I give you my solemn pledge that Miss Granger will be returning to Hogwarts as usual this September. I shall redeem this pledge to you - and to Miss Granger herself - even if I must personally Obliviate the memories of the two Drs. Granger . I remain hopeful, however, that they will listen to reason and that no such extreme measures will be necessary.

I shall be arranging a personal visit to the Grangers as soon as I possibly can, I expect while they are still in Hong Kong. My sources have investigated, and there is no reason to believe that the Grangers intend to be overseas any longer than their planned two-week holiday.

I know it is hard for you, but I must insist that you do nothing to alter Miss Granger's situation by yourself. Any unilateral action by you would be both illegal and harmful to the result we both seek to achieve. You are welcome to ask more detailed questions when we meet on Thursday.

As a result of your news, and certain other developments, we have more to discuss on Thursday than I had originally anticipated. Thus, I shall be available to meet with you at any time after 5:00 p.m. BDT, at our prearranged location.

Albus P.W.B Dumbledore

Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock Wizengamot

Harry hastily replied to Dumbledore that, no, he would not do anything rash and would leave Hermione's situation in his hands. The rest was left unspoken. He did not mention his solemn vow to himself to reconsider his options if the situation were not resolved satisfactorily by late August. He turned to Mr. Weasley's letter:

Dear Harry:

Thank you for the timely information. I have alerted the Ministry, and we will do everything in our power to ensure that Hermione returns to school. I am taking a personal interest in a solution to this problem, as I consider both you and her as part of our family. Some time ago I had a lengthy conversation with Hermione's parents, and I have told Headmaster Dumbledore all that I learned.

By pleasant coincidence, Ludo Bagman and his entourage are currently in Hong Kong. I spoke to Minister Fudge's personal representative on the tour, my son Percy, and he has offered to help re-establish contact with the Grangers. Percy fully appreciates the delicacy of the situation, and is going to try to arrange a meeting between them and Headmaster Dumbledore as soon as he can.

As a personal note, I want to thank you for involving me, because it has resulted in what I hope will be the beginning of a family reconciliation with Percy.

Ron asks me to convey his heart-felt thanks for the use of your broom. He has purchased a broom servicing kit from his own funds, and he assures me that he will take excellent care of it.

Regards,

Arthur Weasley, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation

Harry kicked himself for not remembering also to send along his broom servicing kit to Ron, since the kit was not doing anyone any good lying in the bottom of his trunk. Lastly, he turned to the unexpected missive from Cho:

Dear Harry:

I was astonished to learn today that I have been selected Seeker for the Hogwarts picked Quidditch team that will travel to Denmark this summer. I don't deserve the position. By all rights it should be yours.

I hope you don't think less of me for going. I continue to think very highly of you. I had no idea what you were going through at the end of the term. Your rescue mission to the Ministry was incredibly brave, and knowing that Hogwarts students are capable of defeating Death Eaters just sends shivers up my spine. You've made me feel so much better about our chances against You Know Who.

Do you think that we might still be able to [here, the parchment bore the telltale sign of several erasures] make up and try again, even after my rude and selfish behavior on our date? Let me know how you feel about things.

Love,

Cho

Harry sighed at the irony of it all. Had he received this letter from Cho last year, or even six months ago, he would have been dizzy with euphoria. Now, instead of feeling confunded, he hardly felt anything at all.

As an orphan with the Dursleys, Harry had known precious little love growing up. It had always been very difficult for him to expose himself emotionally to anyone else. Infatuated with Cho, he had done just that - and she had loudly and publicly humiliated him. This experience left him with little faith in her sincerity. He had already heard references to the kind of publicity he had been receiving, and suspected that the Daily Prophet's change of heart and Cho's missive might be connected. Harry could do without women seeking him out for his fame.

Harry wrote a polite but noncommittal reply to Cho:

Dear Cho:

Thank you for your letter. I have no problem with your representing Hogwarts this summer. Just bring home the camp Quidditch Cup to Hogwarts.

Otherwise, I'm not sure what to say because I'm not sure how I feel. So much has happened, and is happening, that I doubt that I should be in a relationship with anyone. As I'm sure you know, anyone with me is at risk of being killed by Voldemort.

Harry

Harry earned his keep that evening, magically cleaning the entire downstairs. All things considered, it was hardly a bad way to contribute to the household. It only took about fifteen minutes until everything was spotless. Aunt Petunia was openly appreciative of his efforts, a rarity that encouraged Harry to do a thorough job. Even better, his relatives were no longer forcing him to clean his own room.

Uncle Vernon more or less ignored everyone. Thus Harry was unable to tell him that he had not been able to find any spell for creating petrol. His uncle closeted himself in his home office with what looked like Grunnings business. He appeared unhappy, which was usual, and said nothing about it to anyone, which was also usual.

After a brief discussion, Aunt Petunia agreed that Harry would stick to cleaning, and possibly cooking. Years of menial labour for the Dursleys had made him into quite passable cook using Muggle means, but his aunt was unsure how much to trust his culinary magic. Even Harry admitted that he did not know how to cook very well with magic. If he so desired, he would be allowed to practice - on himself - in the morning by cooking his own breakfast.

After all his chores were done, Harry went to his room with every intention of getting a good start with Dumbledore's unusual summer reading assignment. He completed the first chapter about Muggle electricity smartly, but midway through the second, he began to nod off while learning about how electrons in an electrical current moved through a conducting substance. All these electrons seemed to be battering his brain, which was hardly surprising since Harry had been up for over 36 hours in a row. Before he knew it, he was face down on the open book.

It was a pleasant dream for once. He was walking hand-in-hand with Hermione through the streets of Hong Kong. It was a leisurely, sunlit walk through parks and busy streets lined with the sleek new skyscrapers he had seen in pictures on the Internet. Hermione was chatting enthusiastically about how much she had learned about both the Magical and Muggle aspects of the colony.

The conversation seemed to be going on forever, which quite suited Harry. Now they were in a field. Someone was walking towards them. It was a pretty Chinese girl.… It was Cho Chang. She was not smiling. Suddenly she was accusing Harry of ruining her life. He only had eyes for Hermione, she screamed, and he had led her on for no good reason. She was going hysterical about Cedric - accusing both Harry and Hermione. Cho started screaming something incoherent about her own parents. Suddenly she attempted to attack Hermione. Cho had very long fingernails.

Harry and Hermione fled, running away across the open field, which stretched to the horizon. Cho was chasing them. She was turning into a dragon. She became gigantic and began to breathe fire. The green grass in the field was being singed, turning first yellow and then more and more reddish. Cho was moving faster, starting to spread dragon wings and fly.

Then all at once Harry was far above the dragon-Cho on his Firebolt. Cho was about to catch and kill Hermione. Harry had his wand out. He shouted "Stupefy." A jet of red light emerged from his wand, but it was like no spell jet he had ever seen, much less created. It was much thicker than an ordinary spell, far brighter, and instead of streaking from his wand, it roiled from it as though it were shunting the very air aside. The spell hit the dragon-Cho squarely from above and its force slammed her into the reddened ground. Hermione had disappeared. Black blood was pouring from dragon-Cho's still and seemingly flattened body.

Things started spinning around. The dragon blood was flowing in black rivulets on the reddish background, forming Chinese-language symbols that Harry could not comprehend. The entire scene was dissolving….

The dream began rearranging itself in a way that resembled the dragon pattern that Lao Kung wore on his vermilion robes - but nonetheless it was different. The patterns were different. Lao Kung did not have these symbols on his robes. The body of the dragon tore itself apart and divided into many dragons, all on symbolically adorned vermilion robes.

Harry's scar erupted in pain for the first time since the events at the Ministry. From amidst the dragon robes stepped Lord Voldemort, red eyes gleaming and wand poised. From what little Harry could make out in the dim light, Voldemort appeared to be accompanied by only one of his Death Eaters, someone large, possibly Goyle. Voldemort shrieked "Crucio," and Harry's scar burned even worse. For the first time Harry noticed two prone figures on the darkened floor - Voldemort's victims for the evening.

A dragon-robed wizard stepped forward from the shadows, said something unintelligible, and a similar beam of light hit the other prone figure. After what seemed like an eternity, Voldemort and the other wizard both stopped - but just to trade places. They each renewed the Cruciatus curse on the opposite heaving body.

Again they stopped. Then Voldemort and the dragon-robed wizard both removed their robes and exchanged them. They bowed to each other, said something that Harry could not hear. They turned back to the two prone figures. Harry screamed. He knew what was going to happen. His scar boiled over. He heard the words "Avada kedavra" and saw the deadly green glow. There was a tremendous crash….

Dudley had come careening into Harry's darkened room, yelling Harry's name at the top of his lungs. He tripped over Harry's trunk and fell heavily onto Harry's bed, elbowing him hard in the midsection. Harry vomited, and for a moment started choking. "Geroff," he sputtered, gasping for breath. Dudley, covered in the remains of this evening's dinner, rolled off the bed and onto the floor.

"Harry, are you all right," Dudley gasped. "You were screaming. I thought you might need help."

"Nightmare," panted Harry, adding, "but you're not completely wrong," before paying attention to whom he was speaking. He decided that both he and the Dursleys were better off the less he revealed about the significance of his dreams. Suddenly his eyes were dazzled by light. Dudley had found the switch that lit the lamps in Harry's room. His aunt and uncle appeared in the doorway, looking at once frightened and disgusted. Uncle Vernon brandished one of his company's samples - a half-metre-long masonry drill bit - in his right hand.

"My God, Harry, your scar, it's bleeding," Dudley blurted out.

Harry touched his forehead and pulled back a bloodied hand. "It was a really bad one, then," he muttered.

Then Harry raised his voice almost to a yell, "Look, all of you, I know you're wondering what happened. Don't ask. There's almost nothing about me that could land you in serious danger faster than for me to tell you about this. It's a purely magical thing that I have to sort out on my own. Now, if you would just leave me alone.…"

No doubt terrified of the magical consequences, the elder Dursleys made themselves scarce. "But Dudley," Harry said, lowering his voice "make sure I get up with you. I really need the exercise." He winked at Dudley. Dudley returned the wink, knowing that what Harry really needed was to talk to Lao Kung.

Harry looked around. Both he and Dudley were reeking messes, and the air in the room was foul. "I better tidy this up first," he said, reaching for his wand. Some Scourgifies for himself, Dudley, and his room made quick work of the mess, and a Purify charm (along with the sash thrown wide open) took care of the fetid air.

After his cousin also left, Harry thought to himself, `I have to write to Dumbledore straight away.' He threw a quick glance at the alarm clock, which read 3:13. "Then I need to try to get a little more sleep," he groaned.

Harry bandaged his scar. Then he drank a large glass of water to cleanse his mouth, which smelled and tasted like a band of mountain trolls had used it for a toilet. That done, he seized the charmed quill, activated the communicator, and wrote a three-page letter to Headmaster Dumbledore detailing everything he could remember about his nightmare - especially the parts concerning Voldemort. He debated whether to tell Dumbledore the part of the dream involving Hermione, since he considered that more personal. He finally decided to mention her role generally in the hope that it would increase the urgency of doing something about her situation.

Rather than go directly to bed, Harry decided to try Lao Kung's concentration techniques. He folded himself into the lotus position and began his chant.

It was in this position - but sound asleep - that Dudley found him a couple of hours later when he came to collect him for their early morning run. After seeing him thus contorted, Dudley made extra sure that Harry completed the entire stretching routine before they started running.

Harry's talk with Lao Kung was less enlightening than he had hoped. Lao Kung listened intently to everything Harry told him about the dream, even taking notes - in Chinese script. Other that repeat several times that his dream was a "serious" matter, the Sefu made no attempt to interpret any of the images Harry described. Harry was well enough acquainted with Lao Kung by now to know that, if the Sefu did not offer an opinion on something like this, it would be fruitless to ask him for one.

Harry did not tell Lao Kung that his "friend" in the dream was a girl, although Harry was not altogether sure why he felt embarrassed about it. The Sefu never intimated whether he had learned this fact from any other source. Lao Kung told Harry that, except for his immediate concern for the safety of his friend in Hong Kong, the matters he was describing were of concern to the Order, not to Harry.

Lao Kung was much more obviously pleased that, after his nightmare, Harry had resorted to practicing the Chinese concentration techniques he was learning. He was especially delighted that Harry had fallen asleep - apparently dreamlessly - after doing so. Harry had a good workout, both with Lao Kung (his speed of concentration increased to under ten minutes) and in the main portion of the gym, particularly with the speed bag. Even Dudley complimented him on his form.

Harry was very edgy that night, both because of the previous night's nightmare and because he knew he would be meeting face-to-face with Dumbledore the next day. He read a couple more chapters about Muggle electricity. Taking no chances, Harry performed concentration exercises for about half an hour before bed.

With the meeting with Dumbledore looming, Harry felt like he was sleepwalking through most of Thursday. While running with Dudley, Harry forgot to bring any of his cousin's Muggle CDs to listen to. Too embarrassed to admit the error, he ran with a silent Walkman attached to his headphones. While at the gym, Harry completely failed either to heat up or cool down the sawdust. Instead, and to Harry inexplicably, he wandlessly transfigured the sawdust into small ball bearings. They went rolling across the floor, and when Harry tried to retrieve them, he trod on them, fell over spectacularly on his backside, and received only bruises for his troubles. Five o'clock could not come fast enough.

Finally, the witching (or wizarding) hour arrived. Feeling like a nervous first-year, Harry made his way over to Arabella Figg's, one door down across the street at No. 7 Privet Drive. Unexpectedly, the beaming Headmaster greeted Harry at the door. "Mister Potter, we have so much to talk about," said Dumbledore. "Come with me and we shall get started."

Harry was briefly confused when Dumbledore made no move to sit down, but instead offered him his arm. When Harry hesitated, the Headmaster explained, "We shall not be speaking here, but rather at Hogwarts, where I have made preparations. Grab on to my arm and I shall Apparate you."

"But … but, I haven't passed my Apparition test. I can't even take it for another year."

"That is not an issue with Side-Along Apparition," Dumbledore smiled as he spoke. "No time like the present for you to begin acquainting yourself with the skill."

Uncertain what would happen, but curious nonetheless, Harry clutched the crook of the Headmaster's arm.

"Very well," Dumbledore said reassuringly. "We are off."

It suddenly felt like Dumbledore's arm was being wrenched from his grasp, so Harry began bringing his other arm around. It never got there.

Everything abruptly went black, and Harry felt squeezed on all sides. He could hardly breathe. The closest thing to this he had ever experienced was when the crowd at the Quidditch World Cup had backed up on the stairs - far too many people in far too little space. But this pressure was worse. His chest and face felt compressed, with his eardrums and eyes hurt more than when he was at the bottom of the lake during the Triwizard Tournament's second task. To make matters worse, the pressure was adversely affecting his bladder, making him feel doubly uncomfortable.

Just as everything was beginning to become unbearable - he felt his arms and legs suddenly become infinite, as if his entire body were extruded through a very long, thin pipe of some sort. Gasping for breath, his eyes stung as he forced them open. It was as if a switch had been turned back on. He was at Hogsmeade station, and there was a Thestral-drawn carriage waiting to take the both of them to Hogwarts Castle.

Harry had Apparated - albeit with help - for the first time in his life.

"How are you feeling?" Dumbledore asked, regarding him sympathetically. "Those sensations can come as a bit of a shock for the uninitiated."

"I'll live," wheezed Harry, shaking his head in a futile attempt to get the ringing in his ears to stop. "That's definitely going to be an acquired taste. If it's all the same to you, I'd rather fly…."

"Your hand feels quite clammy," Dumbledore remarked. Harry self-consciously pulled his hand back, but swayed vertiginously on his feet. "How about trying some of this?" the Headmaster continued.

Dumbledore produced a healthy-sized chunk of magically chilled Honeydukes chocolate from an inner pocket. Harry accepted the proffered treat and began gnawing at it greedily. The old man was right again. It did make him feel better.

Harry's chocolate consumption continued throughout the ride to the Castle. He was nonplussed when, instead of making for his office, Dumbledore began striding rapidly away in the opposite direction. As he hurried to keep up with the Headmaster's brisk pace, he realised that they were making for the Room of Requirement.

Sure enough, they soon arrived at the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy being pummelled by tutu-clad trolls, and shortly they entered a cozy room containing several squashy armchairs surrounding a small table amply supplied with sandwiches and pumpkin juice. "Remember this," Dumbledore said in a conspiratorial tone of voice. "The `Room of Requirement' is whatever you need most at the time." Harry thought he saw the slightest hint of a wink behind the Headmaster's half moon glasses.

Harry had almost no time to consider Dumbledore's remark, because in one of the squashy armchairs sat the head of Gryffindor House, Professor (and Deputy Headmistress) Minerva McGonagall. She had a most unusual (for her) expression on her face - she was smiling broadly. As Harry entered, she stood up and extended her hand. "Congratulations Potter, you have made me very proud, the Headmaster has informed me of your marks…." When this news was received with a blank expression, Professor McGonagall rounded on Dumbledore. "Albus, you mean to tell me that you haven't told the boy yet?"

All of a sudden it dawned on Harry that this meeting was even more important than he thought - he was going to learn the results of his O.W.L.s. His throat momentarily went dry, but then he comprehended what his Head of House had said. He had obviously done very well. Harry let out an audible sigh of relief as Dumbledore explained to McGonagall….

"…You see, Minerva, I decided to wait until you were present."

"How kind of you," McGonagall replied, a touch of sarcasm seeping into her voice.

"Really," the Headmaster protested genially, "I thought that you would want to be here when Mr. Potter learned the news. Also, I would rather that you first complete the other business that you have him before we turn to more pleasant topics."

With a nod of her head, Professor McGonagall turned to Harry. "Potter," she said, her face growing characteristically grave once more, "there is going to be a Ministry inquiry into the conduct of Professor Umbridge…."

Her lips became very thin as she said the name.

…"in the various capacities she held at Hogwarts during the past term. While tidying up her office after her hasty departure, one of the house-elves found a quill - a most unusual quill - and brought it to me. You can imagine my surprise and horror when I tried to use it…."

"And found out that it not only wrote in your own blood, but cut whatever you wrote into the skin on the back of your hand," interrupted Harry.

"Then you know," said Professor McGonagall sadly. "I thought that you might, as she gave you more detentions than any other student at the school. I am in the process of contacting every student whom she disciplined to see how widespread this practice was. That quill was enchanted with a Bloodletting curse. It is a totally unacceptable, and illegal, form of punishment. I would like you to be a witness at the inquiry, and if it would not be too painful, to demonstrate how that hideous quill works."

"I … Will ... Be ... Delighted," said Harry in a very deliberate voice. "You have no idea how horrible it was having that thing cut me hundreds of times in detention after detention. But Umbridge is much worse than merely some torture quills. She was the one who set the Dementors on me and my Muggle cousin last summer."

Minerva McGonagall was not often rendered speechless, but at this statement her jaw dropped, and she looked like a very straight-laced trout as her mouth silently opened and closed. Finally she said, "How do you know that, Potter?"

"She admitted it - not only to me but in front of Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville and Luna, not to mention a pack of slimy Slytherins - just after she caught me using her office Floo the afternoon before we went to the Ministry. Give any of us Veritaserum, or take the memory of it from our minds with a Pensieve, either way will confirm what she said. Or better yet give her the Veritaserum, the bloody bitch!" said Harry getting more angry with every word.

"Potter, watch your language," snapped Professor McGonagall. "You will eventually be giving testimony about this under oath, I daresay before the entire Wizengamot. It will behove you to keep your temper, and to retain your wits about you, when you testify, and it is not too early to start getting in that habit. I hope you understand the seriousness of this charge. If we prove it, Professor Umbridge will not only lose her position in the Ministry but will be facing a lengthy stay in Azkaban."

Silence fell, and both of them looked to Headmaster Dumbledore, who was twiddling his thumbs and looking up at the ceiling. "I am the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, so I did not hear a word of this," Dumbledore said softly. "But Mr. Potter, Minerva is absolutely right. You need to learn to control your temper. It is part of becoming a man. Now, on to more pleasant matters, I expect."

Headmaster Dumbledore reached into a pocket of his purple robes, and produced a sealed envelope bearing Harry's name and the Hogwarts coat of arms. As he gave it to Harry, Dumbledore spoke, "Your O.W.L. results. I was obtaining Miss Granger's results early, so I could have them available for my meeting with her parents next Monday. I decided that I might as well get yours, since I was also meeting with you - and at the moment you have neither parents nor guardian to receive your marks."

Even though Headmaster Dumbledore had just imparted very important news, Harry was hardly listening. His mind was focussed totally on the contents of the envelope. He opened it, reached in and pulled out a Report Card - but it was utterly unlike any Report he had ever received from his Muggle primary school. This Report was a riot of colours and even flashing lights:

Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry

1996 O.W.L. Report Card

Student: Harry James Potter

O.W.L.s Passed: 12*

O.W.L.s Failed 2*

Total O.W.L.s 10*

*Astronomy practical O.W.L. ruled "incomplete" due to external interference; make-up scheduled for Autumn 1996

You are _4th___ of 40 in your class.

You are _16th__ of 302 in the Western and Northern European Region.

Harry openly gawked. He had no conception of half of what was in the Report, but what he did recognise exceeded his wildest dreams. He had achieved nine "Outstanding" OWLs - including Outstanding scores in all four of the classes that made up the core Auror course of study. He smiled weakly at Professor McGonagall. "This means you were right, doesn't it. I'm going to be able to become an Auror."

McGonagall was smiling again. "Don't get too presumptuous, Potter. You're still a long way from becoming an Auror - but, yes, your marks mean that you have the opportunity to become an Auror, if that is indeed what you want. But there is considerably more to your marks than that."

"More than being able to pursue my dream career?" blurted Harry. "How so?"

"Mr. Potter," Headmaster Dumbledore said, "assuming that you wish to pursue any career at all - which I shall get to later - these marks make it more likely than Minerva is letting on that you are true Auror material. Let me explain your Report to you piece by piece."

"First, all your marks are colour coded. The `Outstandings' are in purple. You have received nine Os, including a perfect eight for eight in what are considered the four most important subjects in the magical curriculum."

"Second, four of your marks - your practical, theoretical, and all around Defence Against the Dark Arts and Care of Magical Creatures are graded not just as `O' but as `O+'. That signifies that you received the highest marks in that subject of anyone in your year at Hogwarts - the best score in the entire school. If it were not for Miss Granger, I would be telling you that one student has not received that many O+ scores at Hogwarts in fifteen years."

"Third, all of your Defence Against the Dark Arts scores are not just O+, they are flashing. The flashing scores signify that all of your Defence scores were not only the best score of the year at Hogwarts, but were the best marks of the year in the entire Western and Northern European Region. This region includes not only the United Kingdom, but also Scandinavia, Ireland, France, Benelux, and Germany. In fact, there is more … your overall score of 127 is the highest ever recorded for the Defence Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.s since the Region went to the present grading system almost 80 years ago. It is quite rare for one student to receive so many flashing O+ scores, although again you have the misfortune of being in the same year as Miss Granger."

"I will never, ever think of that as a misfortune," interrupted Harry fervently.

"Quite right," Dumbledore replied slowly, giving him an appraising glance. "Fourth, you received a total of ten O.W.L.s, with an excellent possibility of eleven, since you have an incomplete in Practical Astronomy due to the unfortunate events that disrupted that examination. That puts you in the running for Head Boy. Although marks are not the sole consideration, you do have the highest overall average of any boy in your year."

"Fifth, you rank fourth of forty in your Hogwarts class, which puts you in the top ten percent of the student body. Your total numerical average of 92.0 exceeds the `Outstanding' level. That means that you qualify for the Wizard Honour Society, Alpha Mu Omega."

"Finally, Mr. Potter," said Dumbledore, "what on earth happened in History of Magic?"

Dumbledore's final question brought Harry back to reality. "It was my last exam," Harry said glumly. "The Astronomy practical had been the night before, and I had very little sleep. I was exhausted - beyond exhausted. I fell asleep during the exam. That's when I had the nightmare about the Death Eaters taking S…. Sirius." Harry wavered, almost on the edge of tears, as he recalled his deceased godfather. "After that I couldn't concentrate on the test at all, so I just turned it in and left."

"I see," said the Headmaster, much more softly. "It was just … not even knowing of the latest Goblin War being decided by their inability to make protective shields…? If you had even received the lowest possible passing score, your overall average would have increased by almost three full points, placing you second in your class - and I cannot recall Gryffindor ever standing 1-2 before…. But no matter, this leads me to one of the other subjects I needed to discuss with you, your dreams." Dumbledore made brief eye contact with McGonagall, who made to excuse herself.

"Well, Potter," she said. "The rest of this conversation does not concern any house matter, and I need to get to cracking on the information you have provided about Professor Umbridge. Good luck."

When Professor McGonagall had left, Dumbledore continued. "Mr. Potter, as regards your dreams - actually it is more accurate to call them visions. You now know about your mental connection with Voldemort, and how that brings them about. You also know how this connection allows Voldemort to use you … to use you not only against yourself but also against the Order and against everything we are trying to preserve. It is therefore a matter of the gravest possible security, for your own safety and for that of the rest of us, that you master Occlumency. As I said before, it was my mistake to pair you with Professor Snape for such a mentally intimate exercise. Therefore, I am going to instruct you myself during the summer. We shall meet every Wednesday evening, at 7 p.m., and Sunday afternoon, at 3 p.m., for at least an hour, and longer if I feel it is useful. Except that I cannot meet this Sunday…."

"Why not," exclaimed Harry. "I want to get started straight away. You do know that I had another nightm … vision just last night don't you? I wrote you a full report, just as you asked."

"I am indeed aware," Dumbledore said in his most soothing voice. "You acted quite responsibly, and the information you provided was very valuable. Even if you had not written, however, I would have been informed that something was wrong."

"What could be more important…?" Harry started. He changed course in mid-thought. "How would you have known?"

"Harry, you are under constant watch, as you must appreciate. Your aunt is under instructions to report any incident involving your scar immediately to Mrs. Figg, and your house is under 24-hour guard. All this is because of the prophecy…. Even though Voldemort does not know all of it, he knows enough to understand that in the larger scheme of things no one, not even I, is a greater threat to him than you. You are the only one … quite probably the only person in the world … who is capable of making a final end to him. Because of that you could be attacked at any time. So you are being guarded, in a number of ways. It is best that you not even know all of them."

Dumbledore reached behind him, and Harry noticed a large flat object hidden in a plain brown wrapper. "That is why I want to give you this. Please hang it on the wall of your room at Number 4 Privet Drive, and when the term starts in the fall, hang it in your dormitory room. I assume that you can guess what it is."

"It's a portrait, right? One of the prior headmasters."

"That would be five points for Gryffindor, Mister Potter - if you were in class," chuckled Dumbledore. "Exactly right, it is a portrait of one of my predecessors."

"Just so long as it is not that Phineas whatshisname." Harry said.

"Certainly not," replied Dumbledore. "I want the portrait to remain in one piece, otherwise it would not be useful. As for Occlumency, until I can start myself, I want you to continue your training with Sefu Kung. He is…."

"Lao Kung is teaching me Occlumency? When?" asked Harry.

"It is my understanding," said Dumbledore, "that he began training you last Saturday. I certainly authorised him to begin at once. Am I mistaken?"

"I did meet him on Saturday. He told me he was in the Order and mentioned your name, but he never told me he was training me in Occlumency. He told me he was teaching me concentration techniques that would help me perform wandless magic like him. Why have you been hiding this from me?" asked Harry, now glaring at the Headmaster.

"Dear me," responded Dumbledore, plainly startled. "Until just now I was unaware that Sefu Kung had not told you that he was teaching you meditation. That art is a form of Occlumency widely practiced in the Orient, but less so here. Sefu Kung was originally at the gymnasium to provide protection to your cousin, but when I learned you were going there as well, I authorised him to train you - and he enthusiastically agreed. I daresay that he misunderstood my instructions, however. He must have thought, when I described your abortive lessons with Professor Snape, that you would resist if he told you it was Occlumency training. Please, Mister Potter, when you next see Sefu Kung, tell him that he is authorised to chat with you about anything having to do with Occlumency that he or you wish to discuss. I shall also contact him, but you may see him first."

Dumbledore continued. "Anyway, for your other question. I cannot meet with you this Sunday because I am traveling to Hong Kong on Monday. I have a number of things to attend to, including meeting with Miss Granger and her parents. What you saw in your vision makes other aspects of my journey more complicated and difficult, and I need to prepare…."

"Can you please explain to me the significance of my dre … my vision?" Harry interrupted. "I described it to Lao Kung but either he didn't know what it meant - or more likely he wasn't talking."

"Nor shall I, Mister Potter. As I said before, there are some things that I still cannot tell you, but at least I shall tell you what those are when you ask. What you saw in your vision is of great concern to the Order, but of little concern to you. I shall say only this. I shall ensure the safety of the Grangers while they are in Hong Kong, because it is possible that they could be attacked or held hostage. Beyond that, you need only know what probably is already obvious to you. Voldemort suffered a significant defeat at the Ministry - for which he blames you as much as me. He lost eleven Death Eaters, including some of his best and most strategically placed. He knows that many of his other servants will be unmasked by the interrogation of these eleven and will have to go into hiding, where they will be of much less use to him. His organisation has thus been damaged and will be damaged further. Voldemort needs reinforcements, and the Orient is one such source. More than that, you need not know."

Harry felt that maybe Dumbledore was giving him too much credit, since he had not figured this out at all. For such insights, he usually depended on Hermione. In any event, he appreciated being given reasons, for once, why he was not being told something. "Hermione," he said, "you can tell me everything about her."

"Certainly, said the Headmaster. "After your message, I contacted Remus Lupin, who was in Hong Kong on Order business. He almost immediately located the Grangers at their hotel.…"

"The Shangri-la," interrupted Harry.

"Very good, Mister Potter. I do not know how you found that out, but that would merit 25 points for Gryffindor. I did not judge Remus, however, to be the best representative to make the initial contact, so he merely kept track of their movements. I shortly received word from Arthur Weasley, whom you likewise had contacted. He told me that his son Percival was also in Hong Kong with the Sports Department mission. Even though he has been misguided in the past, Percival is quite accomplished at the diplomatic arts when he desires to be. I contacted him, and to my great delight and relief, he was willing, even anxious, to help."

"By the way, Percival wishes to convey to you his deepest apologies and regrets. It seems he wrote a letter to his brother that advised him to break off your friendship and to have nothing further to do with you. From subsequent events, it is clear that the advice was ignored, so I do not know if you knew…."

"Yeah, I knew," spat Harry. "The boot-licking prat sent Ron a long letter calling me a menace and telling Ron that he shouldn't be my friend if he valued his future. Ron burned that letter straight away."

"In any event," said Dumbledore, lowering his voice, "Percival very much regrets that now."

"More like he regrets that he backed the wrong horse," replied Harry.

"Regardless of his reasons," continued Dumbledore, "you owe him a chance to redeem himself. We all do. Without Percival's very persuasive efforts, my upcoming meeting with the Grangers could not have been arranged, and bringing about Miss Granger's return to Hogwarts would be both much more difficult and time consuming."

"So what are you planning to tell Hermione's parents?" asked Harry.

"I shall show them her Report and explain to them that their daughter's grades place her first in not just Britain but in all of Western Europe. While your scores are impressive, even extraordinary - Miss Granger's are virtually unprecedented. On her merits, her career path in the wizarding world is essentially unlimited, Muggle-born or no. Her parents cannot lightly throw away their daughter's future. Nor would confining her to the Muggle world make her any safer. If anything, Miss Granger would be at more risk without magical means of protection. Like it or not, what is done is done. Voldemort is well aware of your friend's exploits and of her potential. He attacks Muggles at will, so she would be safer in Hogwarts than anywhere else. I shall offer protection to the entire Granger family. I shall offer special self-defence training to Miss Granger, ideally with you, this summer."

"Only if my persuasive powers fail shall I resort to more forceful means. But I shall do that if necessary. I have the approval of both Minister Fudge and the head of the Department of Magical Education, Demetrius Tarbert, to perform any spell I deem necessary to bring about Miss Granger's return."

"Thank you," said Harry. "That will be an excellent presentation to the Grangers. You've obviously been practising. If it gets Hermione back, I'll owe you plenty."

"Hardly," replied Dumbledore. "Miss Granger's demonstrated potential is such that these steps would have been taken even if the two of you had never met."

"But if the two of us had never met," replied Harry with a haunted look coming over his face, "none of this would have been necessary because Hermione's life would never have been placed in danger. This is all my fault."

"Mister Potter, listen to me carefully," spoke Dumbledore. "This. Is. Not. Your. Fault. None of this - not even the prophecy - is your fault. Responsibility for every loss you have suffered lies solely with Voldemort, who has been trying to destroy you virtually from your birth. You must understand and believe this. If you fall into self-loathing it will become a serious weakness, and Voldemort will prey on that as he preys on every human weakness."

"Voldemort has no use for love, whereas you thirst for it almost above all else. Your capacity for love is stronger than his capacity for hate. That is why you have escaped him at every encounter, and that is why I believe in my heart that you will accomplish the singular task that the prophecy has imposed upon you. If you blame yourself for Voldemort's infliction of death and injury upon those you care for, Voldemort will seek to drive you mad with guilt. It will only increase his incentive to attack those for whom you have feelings. Every time you punish yourself for what Voldemort has done, you strengthen him and weaken yourself. Remember that."

"I'll try," mumbled Harry, "but it's hard when you have been through what I have."

"I know," said Dumbledore sympathetically.

"No you don't," said Harry, not wanting sympathy. "How could you possibly…."

Dumbledore gave a great sigh. "I know, because Grindelwald killed my wife and daughter before my eyes," he replied, his face a mask.

Harry was speechless for some time. "I'm so very sorry…."

"Please do not be, Mister Potter," said Dumbledore. "What is done is done. Ultimately it gave me a determination to destroy him that before, I had lacked. And you must do the same with Voldemort."

Thinking of his parents and his Godfather - and of his living friends as well - Harry went silent for over a minute. Finally he said "I will, but I don't think I can do it alone."

"You most assuredly will not have to," said Dumbledore. There are many prepared to help you, and to die for you if necessary. That brings me to another of the important matters I must discuss with you - your training. As I am sure you are aware, your adventure in the Department of Mysteries has attracted a great deal of attention. Among those whose attention is now focused on you are quite a few Aurors and Unspeakables. First of all, they wish to interview - no, `debrief' is a better word - you concerning how you were able to get into what is supposed to be the most secure portion of a secure building. But beyond that there is both curiosity and admiration at how you, with only five other students to help you, held off a dozen of Voldemort's most feared Death Eaters for over an hour after being lured into a trap."

"I have had a conversation of sorts with two of the high-ranking Aurors - the Head Auror, Mr. Scrimgeour, and Kingsley Shacklebolt, whom you know. They fully agree with me that you should immediately receive as much training in advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts as you can handle. Voldemort could attack at any time. Therefore, beginning on Monday, I have arranged for you to begin a four-day-a-week intensive training schedule during which you will receive the Auror Candidate School course on offensive and defensive magic and survival skills. Assuming you agree…."

"I agree," interjected Harry grimly, "and what's more, I can't wait to get started. But didn't you mention Hermione training with me?"

"I did - and if she and her parents agree, she will participate upon her return from Hong Kong," said Dumbledore. "As I said, you do not have to do this alone. You will report each Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday to Mrs. Figg's house at 7:00 a.m. Kingsley, or someone else you know, will be present to escort you to the Auror Candidate School training facility, which is adjacent to the Ministry of Magic building. You should exchange identifying questions - information that only the two of you would know about each other. For example, Kingsley's role in … er … intervening with Miss Edgecombe last term. Do you understand?"

"Yes," answered Harry, "but why can't we do it at Grimmauld Place? I'm not very keen on returning to the Ministry. My memories of that place aren't exactly happy ones."

"There are two reasons," Dumbledore explained. "First and foremost, Grimmauld Place is no longer safe. I fear that its security was compromised when Kreacher went to Narcissa Malfoy. Obviously, that house is no longer serving as the headquarters of the Order, and it will probably remain abandoned at least until its ownership is sorted out following Sirius' death. Second, 12 Grimmauld Place is nowhere near large enough, nor in all likelihood is it of sound enough construction to accommodate the kind of training that I have arranged you to receive. I have negotiated permission for you to use the actual trainee situation room at the Auror Candidate School, since the next Auror class does not commence training until autumn."

Harry had another question, one concerning his free time. "What about the other days?"

"I am sure that you will have homework assignments as well," said Dumbledore. "I encourage you to continue seeing Sefu Kung on Wednesdays and Saturdays - although I shall try to arrange for any official Ministry business involving you to occur on Wednesdays. As we have discussed, I shall be providing you Occlumency training on Wednesday evenings and Sunday afternoons. Before too long you will find yourself with precious little free time. Speaking of which, have you been reading the material I asked you to cover in preparation for our Occlumency session?"

"Yes," Harry said, and I'm more than halfway done with the eight chapters on Muggle electricity."

"Excellent," smiled Dumbledore. "But it is not just Muggle electricity. Wizards have it too. It just behaves somewhat differently. Further, the fact that you have survived the Killing Curse suggests that your electrical content may behave more differently - and quite a bit more singularly - than most."

Harry was skeptical, but he let the matter pass, wondering what else Dumbledore had to discuss. The entire meeting had been one bombshell after another.

"Now I need to discuss the matter of your inheritance, something that you may find disturbing."

"This is about Sirius, isn't it," anticipated Harry. He sighed in contemplation of the inevitable.

"Unfortunately it is," commiserated Dumbledore, "but there is much more to it than you know, or could even suspect. Sirius left a will. Minerva and I witnessed it. He left almost all of his worldly possessions to you. For starters, that means that you inherit Sirius' motorcycle and Sirius' personal effects, most of which remain at Grimmauld Place."

"Ugh," muttered Harry, screwing up his face in an unintentional impersonation of Narcissa Malfoy's dung-under-the-nose expression. "Does that mean that I become Kreacher's master?"

"It would, Harry, except that Kreacher is dead," replied Dumbledore.

"Serves that nasty little bugger right," snapped Harry, "after the way he lied to me and caused Sirius' death."

"You are closer to the truth than you know, Mr. Potter," said Dumbledore sadly. "Kreacher took his own life once he found out that his actions led to Sirius' death. He had no choice, as house-elves are obligated to commit suicide if they cause their masters to die."

"That's just as well…." Harry said distractedly. "I'm not at all sure that I could ever bear to own a house-elf, or anything that can talk and think. It would be like owning Dobby. That just doesn't feel right to me."

"Ah, yes," said Dumbledore, drawing a deep breath before diving in, "that is precisely the point I need to discuss with you, for it is likely that you will find yourself in exactly that position."

"What?" asked Harry blankly. Here comes another bombshell, he thought.

"Sirius was the last of the Blacks," Dumbledore continued. "If his name is cleared, he inherits the entire Black fortune, and through Sirius' will that fortune - which is considerable - would in turn belong to you."

Kaboom. Harry buried his face in his hands and ran his fingers through his already disheveled hair. "I just can't stop being special, can I? DAMMIT, WHY DO THINGS ALWAYS HAVE TO HAPPEN TO ME?!? FOR ONCE CAN'T I JUST BE NORMAL?!?"

"Have another sandwich, if you please, the Headmaster offered. "I think you know by now that you are anything but ordinary - and you always will be. Anyway, I owe you more of an explanation. Sirius' father, Orion Black, was not pleased that his own children turned out to be Death Eaters or criminals - not only his own children, but his niece Bellatrix as well. Nor did he approve of the marriages of his other two nieces. Andromeda was disowned for besmirching the Black pureblood tradition by marrying someone Muggle born."

"Yeah, I know," said Harry. "Tonks' dad."

"Right again," replied Dumbledore. "For someone whom I tried to keep ignorant most of last year, you have certainly been able to learn quite a bit. Not only was I wrong-headed, I was an abject failure as well. Now where was I…? Oh yes. Nor did the senior Black approve of Narcissa Black's marriage to Lucius Malfoy, whom Mr. Black viewed as irredeemably greedy."

"Anyway, when Sirius was sent to Azkaban, Orion Black wrote out a new will that left his estate to the first of his male heirs who was not convicted of being a criminal or a Death Eater. He died shortly thereafter, never knowing there was the slightest possibility that Sirius was innocent. But if Sirius is cleared…."

"I see now," said Harry becoming agitated once again. "If Sirius is cleared, then he isn't a convicted criminal or a Death Eater. He inherits from this Orion person, and then I inherit from him. Well, sod all that! I don't want to profit from Sirius' death. You have no idea what Sirius means to me! None of you do! He's hardly cold, and now you want to put a bloody sterling sign on his body! That's what the effort to clear Sirius' name is all about, isn't it? Wretched money! Otherwise, would you even bother?"

"Now Mr. Potter, you know that is unfair," rebuked Dumbledore. "Many of us - granted not all - loved Sirius for who and what he was, just like you have. We would be seeking to clear him even if he did not have a Knut to his name, because of our regard for him. However, the monetary aspect is also important because we do not want there to be any chance for Voldemort to have access to any more money than he already has, given the number of Death Eaters among Sirius' relatives."

There was a moment's pause. "I'm sorry," muttered Harry reluctantly. "You're right, that wasn't fair. But it is just so horribly frustrating. I feel like I've had too much happen to me already."

"You have indeed," agreed Dumbledore, "but that die was cast when Voldemort marked you. Getting back to your original observation, however, there are a number of house-elves in the Black estate, and if Sirius is cleared you will own them."

Harry's face turned a pasty shade midway between green and grey, but he said nothing.

Dumbledore continued, "there is also the matter of your inheritance from your parents. You have already seen your inheritance from your father in Gringotts, but your paternal grandfather, Abraham Potter, had reservations about your father's marriage to a Muggle-born witch. In order to ensure that Lily never obtained sole control over his fortune, he placed most of his property in devices called generation-skipping trusts. There are three of these trusts, and they have been managed by Gringotts since they were created. Among other things they include two of the 23 wizard shares in Gringotts itself."

"However, once the generation has been skipped, the trusts dissolve and the assets belong to the trust beneficiary immediately upon the beneficiary's attaining majority. That beneficiary is you, and you attain majority in little over a year, on your seventeenth birthday…."

"If Voldemort doesn't kill me first," said Harry mordantly.

"In that case you need not worry about the paperwork," said Dumbledore evenly. "However, since there is a significant possibility that you will be alive on your seventeenth birthday, you need to give some thought to the fact that you will be a multimillionaire before you have graduated from this school. While I have no doubt that you can become an Auror, as I mentioned earlier, you will be able to live in complete comfort even if you never work a day in your life."

Kaboom. "As always, you're right," said Harry, in a tone that showed that he was singularly unimpressed by the prospect of so much gold. "What do you think I should do?"

"There are two things you need to do. First, you need a new guardian. I am not trying in the slightest to displace Sirius from your mind or your heart, but you need someone you trust to be able to make legally binding decisions on your behalf. Right now, you cannot even open your own bank account or obtain a passport. Second, you should hire a trustworthy solicitor to advise you on such matters."

"A trustworthy solicitor," said Harry grinning. "Isn't that a contradiction of terms?"

"For your sake, I hope not," chuckled Dumbledore. "I know a number of solicitors whom I would not hesitate to recommend. On the other hand, Mister Potter, picking a legal guardian is a much more personal decision because the guardian will also have control over the personal aspects of your life. Do you have any preferences? I believe that anyone whom you would want to undertake the responsibility would be more than happy to do it, even though there is risk involved."

"Hermione." Harry said without hesitation. "I trust her with my life. She knows so much. And she has great instincts. She's almost always right, even if all too often I don't do what she says."

"I am sorry," groaned Dumbledore. "I neglected to tell you that a legal guardian must be of age, and Miss Granger does not turn seventeen until this September. Further, even if the decision could be put off until then, it could be extremely awkward, to say the least, for her to serve in that capacity. You and she are much too close to one another in both age and friendship for her to fill the role of guardian. A guardian must be able to act as a surrogate parent, and I do not see Miss Granger fulfilling that role in your life."

"Remus Lupin then," suggested Harry. "He cares for me, and he's the last of the Marauders - the last one that matters anyway."

"I would agree, Mister Potter," sighed Dumbledore as he gently vetoed Harry's choice again, "except that it would be illegal. The Ministry's anti-werewolf legislation precludes anyone afflicted with lycanthropy from serving as the guardian of any wizard or witch. Even if that were not the case, Remus' responsibilities with the Order require him to travel constantly. Finally, he is also a beneficiary of Sirius' will, which could conceivably place him in a conflict of interest situation."

"Oh," said Harry. He thought awhile longer and a scowl spread across his face. Then he bowed to what he thought was the inevitable. "Then how about you?" he asked.

"I would be honoured, but I cannot," said Dumbledore. "I have a suspicion that managing your financial and personal affairs would take up far more time than I have available. Also, since the Hogwarts School is a contingent beneficiary of Sirius' will, and I witnessed that will, it would not be wise for me to be in a position where I myself could be accused of a conflict of interest."

"Well," said Harry, still looking annoyed. "I'm running out of names. It sure won't be the Dursleys. The Weasleys are probably too busy as well, with Mr. Weasley's promotion and all…."

A light bulb went on in Harry's head as he had a Hermione moment. "I know! How about Bill Weasley? I trust him. He's in the Order. He's in country now that he exchanged his curse breaker's job for something closer to home. His old job taught him a lot about Muggle ways - and since Bill works for Gringotts bank, I'm sure he knows about money."

"Mister Potter, I never would have thought of Bill," said Dumbledore, "but upon reflection, I think it is a brilliant choice. Are you absolutely comfortable with Bill as your legal guardian?"

Harry thought - hard. "Yes, I'm sure," he declared.

The Room of Requirement seemed to scintillate a bit as the Headmaster stood. He walked around behind Harry to a large fireplace that Harry was sure had not been there a few moments before. Dumbledore tossed in some Floo powder, and green flames blazed. "William Weasley," Dumbledore called out.

There was an unusually long pause, and then Bill's handsome long-haired (if somewhat disheveled) head appeared in the heart of the fire. "You called, Albus," Bill said. "Oh, and hello Harry, what can I do for you?"

"You can be my legal guardian until I turn seventeen," Harry said with no warning at all.

Bill's eyes widened as he grasped what Harry had said. "You're serious, aren't you Harry," Bill said softly.

"I sure am," stated Harry. "I'm not one of your brothers. I'd never joke about something like that. Dumbledore and I have talked it over, and we both agree that you're an excellent choice."

"I'll do it, then," Bill said without hesitation. "I assume that you now know about the inheritance."

"I do," said Harry. "You have worked for Gringotts ever since I've known you, so I reckon you have to know a lot about money."

"I know a bit," grinned Bill, "and whatever I don't know, I know peop…., er, I know whom to ask," said Bill.

"Great," enthused Harry, knowing that Bill was thinking about the goblins who ran Gringotts. "Oh, and where's your fang ear piece," asked Harry, who had just noticed that Bill's trademark earring was missing from his left ear.

Almost immediately upon asking this question, Harry wished he hadn't. Bill's face got so pink that it clashed horribly with the green flames encircling it. "Er…," Bill stammered, "when Albus summoned me, he interrupted me … er, us…. Well Fleur doesn't like me wearing it when we…. Anyway, Fleur made me take it off. Women can be like that."

"Sorry I asked," gulped Harry.

"In any event," said Dumbledore, putting an end to this strained subject, "I shall have my solicitor draw up guardianship papers straight away for both you and Harry to sign. Harry, once that is done, do you mind if Bill and I select solicitor candidates for you to interview?"

"Not at all," replied Harry. "I don't have the slightest idea how to go about that, so it would be a relief to me if you handled it."

"Bill, before I let you return to Mademoiselle Delacour's charms," Dumbledore said with slightly raised eyebrows, "what is the status of your discussions with the goblins?"

"King Ragnok has agreed in principle to our last proposal," reported Bill. "If Harry is willing, the goblins are. He insists upon a formal ceremony, though."

"Thank you Bill," smiled Dumbledore. "You may go." Smiling, and with a sly wink to Harry, Bill's face disappeared at once.

"If I'm willing to do what?" Harry inquired warily.

"Mister Potter, I was not planning upon us discussing the goblin situation at this time," said Dumbledore, "since it is highly confidential. Now it appears that we should, at least briefly. Basically, we have been in negotiations for months seeking the support of the goblin nation in the imminent war with Voldemort. The sticking point is that the goblins want full legal equality with wizards - a demand the Ministry was unwilling to meet."

"Why not?" asked Harry bluntly. "It only seems right."

"That is because you have not grown up in our world," Dumbledore answered. "Goblins and wizards are historic enemies, and that enmity has all too often been passed down from generation to generation, particularly amongst the pure-blood families that set the tone for our society. Whilst the last goblin rebellion ended over three hundred years ago, that is almost yesterday for some of our kind. Goblins are still viewed as somewhat subversive - tolerated, rather than accepted."

"So we're sort of stuck, then," Harry commented, "what with Fudge in the Ministry and all."

"They do not trust Minister Fudge, or the Ministry, that is true," the Headmaster recounted. "I proposed the same mutual exchange of Unbreakable Vows that ended the last goblin rebellion, but that was rejected. Those vows, the goblins maintain, were materially subverted by the wizard side. In the area of finance, at least, their views have some merit."

"So then we're stuck," Harry reiterated, "if even Unbreakable Vows aren't enough."

"Not anymore," Dumbledore replied cheerfully. "In an attempt to salvage the situation, I made another offer to the goblins. I proposed that, if they supported the Order against Voldemort, and he were defeated, I would use whatever political capital we gained thereby - and it would be substantial - to launch a political campaign in favour of full goblin rights."

"That sounds like a good idea," Harry observed. "Defeating Voldemort would certainly change everything, but you've told me that the prophecy means that I'm the only one likely to be able to do that."

"There is the rub," Dumbledore agreed. "The goblins were interested, but wanted more, since they would be putting themselves at present risk in return for a mere promise of future action."

"You're about as good as it gets. What more did they want?" Harry asked.

"You," was Dumbledore's reply.

"Me?" Harry squeaked.

"Yes, you," Dumbledore repeated. "The goblin king, Ragnok, must have his own sources. He knows enough about matters that he believes that you are fated to destroy Voldemort. Thus, he wants your pledge to support goblin equality following Voldemort's downfall."

"What do I have that you don't?" Harry responded hotly.

"They believe, with reason, that after a personal victory over Voldemort, you would command an even greater political impact in the wizard community than I."

"But what if I fail?" Harry asked.

"We did not discuss failure," Dumbledore responded grimly. "Failure is not an option from the goblins' standpoint. They, as well as we, are well aware of Voldemort's supremacist views about the various magical races. Are you amenable to making such a public pledge?"

"Sure, I'll do it," said Harry, after a moment's thought. "I don't know if it'll work, but I reckon we need all the allies we can get."

"Thank you," said Dumbledore. "I shall let you know when and where the pledge ceremony will take place. I am unaware what the goblins have in mind. All I know is that it will take place at midnight and will occur in goblin territory."

"There is one more thing we need to discuss," said Dumbledore, "and then I'm afraid I am going to have to do something you will probably find unpleasant. Will you look in the wardrobe behind you and tell me what you see?"

As Harry rose, he felt the scintillations again. He was sure that the wardrobe Dumbledore had pointed to had not been there the last time he had looked in that direction, but as the Headmaster had said, the Room of Requirement became whatever was needed. Harry looked in the wardrobe and saw it contained several large bags of what looked like folded and jumbled paper and parchment.

"A lot of trash," Harry replied. "What of it?"

"That is your fan mail, Mister Potter," said Dumbledore with his eyes twinkling. "Letters. All of them have arrived at Hogwarts, addressed to you, just since you left. I have had to double the school's purchase of owl treats simply to meet the needs of post owls delivering mail to you. Dobby has been trying to sort it into regular fan mail, letters from possibly dangerous cranks, and other items, such as business propositions. For example, look at this." Dumbledore pulled another letter to Harry from his robes:

Cadbury Chocolate Company - Wizard Division

Mr. Harry Potter

C/o Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Dear Mister Potter:

As you probably know the Wizard Division of the Cadbury Chocolate Company produces wizard confections of the highest quality. One of our best selling products is the Chocolate Frog^®. Along with magically animated chocolate, each Chocolate Frog^® package includes a trading card depicting a famous wizard or witch, living or dead.

As are the rest of the wizarding community, we at Cadbury are deeply impressed with your defeat of a dozen Death Eaters at the Ministry of Magic on the night of 11-12 June, 1996. Therefore, we would like to include your likeness on a new Chocolate Frog^® card. That likeness could resemble the prototype card that is enclosed with this letter.

We are, of course, willing to pay you a handsome royalty for the use of your likeness. We are prepared to offer you a 10% royalty on all units sold with your card included. At our suggested retail price of three Sickles per unit, you would receive 8.7 Knuts for each unit sold. Based upon our sales history in the EU alone, we anticipate a minimum annual print run of 100,000 units, so we can guarantee you a minimum annual income of 1765 Galleons, with additional sums to follow depending upon actual sales volume.

Please feel free to contact me by o-mail or on the Floo network at "Cadbury Chocolates, Chocolate Frogs.^®" I sincerely hope we can do business.

Yours truly,

Husqvarna Flodden

Senior Manager, Product Development

Kaboom. For a moment Harry just sat there stunned. Then he picked up the card that had fallen out of the letter. It was identical to the Chocolate Frog cards he had traded with his classmates for the last five years, except the full-colour drawing was of him, wand at the ready, riding a Thestral into the sunset. It bore the inscription "Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived." The word "SPECIMEN" was printed diagonally over the picture. The obverse side of the card contained a rather overblown two-paragraph account of his life.

"Well Mister Potter, what do you think," smiled Dumbledore. "I can tell you from personal experience that Cadbury royalties have been a nice supplement to my salary over the years - not that it will matter particularly after your inheritance - but `one in the hand,' you know."

"I, I, I just don't know what to think," mumbled Harry, still reeling. He had long had to deal with being famous. Professor Snape sneered at him as a "celebrity" as far back as his first year. In his Second Year another aspiring celebrity, Gilderoy Lockhart, had presumed to give him tips on how to deal with fame. But this kind of adulation - an offer of a paid endorsement - was a new sensation altogether.

"Mister Potter, this is why you need both a guardian and a solicitor," Dumbledore said in a fatherly tone of voice. "It hardly matters whether you accept this offer or not. If you turn them down, they will probably just offer you more money. I am sure that there are any number of wizard establishments that would be willing to pay you quite handsomely for use of your name and likeness."

"I'm really not very interested in selling myself," Harry finally said firmly, feeling miffed that Dumbledore would even make such a suggestion. Harry brusquely stuffed the letter into his pocket.

"I am not at all surprised," remarked the Headmaster. "What I want to talk to you about is fame. I have been famous since I destroyed Voldemort's predecessor, Grindelwald, in 1945, so I know of what I speak. Fame is both a blessing and a curse, but in your case, as in mine, there is simply no choice but to come to terms with it."

"I've been stared at for the last five years," sniffed Harry. "I can handle it, I think."

"This is different," said Dumbledore firmly. "You never received fan mail before, I suspect."

"A few letters after I was interviewed in The Quibbler, but nothing like that," answered Harry, gesturing towards the almost full wardrobe. "Some girl even sent me a picture of herself."

"What you will experience now, the moment you venture out into the wizarding world, is nothing like you have ever encountered before," said Dumbledore with a knowing look. "Almost everyone will want to know you - to take some of your precious time. People will want to do favours for you, to give you things, all because of your fame. If you so desire, you will undoubtedly find many witches willing, even eager, to have sexual relations with you. You will have to distinguish between friends who genuinely care for you and acquaintances who only want to use you."

Harry did not know whether to feel excited or apprehensive about THAT possibility. He stayed mute.

"Mister Potter, you also need to understand that this is quite deliberate. We are at war, and you are the first hero of that war. The Ministry has decided - and on this I am in full agreement - to make you a symbol of hope to us all. As daunting as Voldemort is to you, imagine how terrifying he is to the average witch and wizard who lacks your ability to fight back - those who cannot conjure a Patronus powerful enough to drive away 100 Dementors. This is all about morale. Voldemort and his Death Eaters do not look so frightening if mere students can resist them successfully even though outnumbered 2-1. So even though I know you will find your lionisation to be personally distasteful, you need to cooperate at least somewhat with the Ministry, since it is important to our war effort."

Kaboom. "Great. Just great," said Harry glumly. "So in addition to preparing for a kill-or-be-killed confrontation with Voldemort, I have to hand out autographs too." He wrinkled his nose at a mental image of himself - Lockhart-like - smiling stupidly while entertaining a line of simpering autograph hunters. "What am I supposed to do, Headmaster?"

"You need to think long and hard about how to react," continued Dumbledore, "because everything you do in public - and much of what you do in private - will find its way into the press. You remember Rita Skeeter two years ago, I am sure."

"How could I ever forget?" muttered Harry, recalling the reporter-Animagus who, in the form of a beetle, had invaded his privacy and written several scurrilous articles about him. "What do you think I should do?"

"Largely you will have to set your own limits. I am afraid I shall not be much help. You already have the Order providing you with bodyguards, so you need not be particularly apprehensive concerning your physical safety in public. The rest of it you just have to decide how to come to grips with. You will have to choose whether to answer fan mail, or ignore it. Likewise, you can also opt to ignore or to pursue business propositions like the one that I just showed you. I would suggest having your solicitor look into anything you find intriguing. You should resume taking the Daily Prophet again, though. Even if what appears in the press does not mean much to you, you need to know what is being said about you because it will affect how others behave towards you."

"I suppose you're right," said Harry resignedly. "How do I subscribe? Hermione did it for me the last time and I don't know what to do."

"I anticipated that you would listen to reason, and I have already managed it. I have had Arabella Figg's subscription transferred from Number 7 to Number 4 Privet Drive. For herself, she will open a second subscription in her husband's name. This way the Prophet will not know where you live, and you are less likely to have a reporter show up unannounced on your doorstep."

"Now for the last matter at hand," said Dumbledore crisply, changing the subject again. I need to get a close look at the vision you had yesterday, and I need to evaluate exactly where you stand on Occlumency. So to kill two birds with one stone I would like, with your permission, to practice Legilimency on you."

"Do you have to?" asked Harry, now squirming uncomfortably with unpleasant memories. "Can't we do what you need using your Pensieve instead?"

"Unfortunately, a Pensieve is only accurate with respect to memories that you collect when you are awake and conscious. They are notoriously unreliable as to matters of the unconscious. No, I am afraid that to get the detail that I require, I must insist upon using Legilimency. I do not expect you to be able to resist successfully, as I am an accomplished Legilimens, but I want you to try your best. Thus, I shall give you all the time you need to prepare yourself. Unlike Professor Snape, I shall not be penetrating very deeply, since what I need is quite recent."

"All right," surrendered Harry. "It has to start sooner or later if you are going to teach me. Give me ten minutes." Harry got into the lotus position and began clearing his mind and concentrating on resistance, as he was being taught by Lao Kung.

After ten minutes elapsed, Dumbledore raised his want and chanted "Legilimens." Harry could feel Dumbledore at the edge of his mind, and he tried to resist. Harry felt recent memories flowing out of him. The letter from Hermione…. Meeting Lao Kung…. Dudley's apology…. Moody blowing up the parlour…. Harry concentrated harder, and slowly the mental outflow seemed to grind to a halt.

He was concentrating very hard now on resisting Dumbledore, and it appeared to be working. As far as Harry could tell, no more memories were flowing out from him. His mind was blank except for his concentration on resisting the odd prickling sensation in his brain that indicated the Headmaster's presence. Harry was quickly becoming exhausted at the effort that it took to resist Dumbledore's powerful magic. He was concentrating so hard it felt like his brain was melting.

Suddenly, Harry heard several sharp crackling noises very close by. Even though his eyes were tightly shut with concentration, he sensed flashes of bright light accompanying the noise. Abruptly, he felt Dumbledore's presence in his mind evaporate. As he was opening his eyes, he also became aware of an odd odour, at once both metallic and wet.

Harry could hardly believe what he saw. Dumbledore was still standing in front of him, but his beard was singed, and he had what looked like scorch marks around his eyes and on the front of his robe.

"Mister Potter," said the Headmaster, breathing heavily, "do you know how to do the Incandens charm?"

"No," said Harry, "I've never heard of it."

"I thought not, because it is taught only in Advanced Charms, in the Seventh Year. It is largely used for protective purposes. You just performed a partial Incandens charm, by accident, I suppose - and you did it wandlessly," said Dumbledore. "It was strong enough to drive me backward with considerable force, and it was intense enough to generate the ozone that we are smelling. It is a useful addition to your armamentarium, given Voldemort's recent use of Inferi."

"What about Inferi?" Harry questioned, not understanding the last comment.

"Fire is a most effective means of repelling any attack by Inferi," the Headmaster replied. "You should remember that. Consider it your first lesson from me."

Harry nodded.

"You have learned much from Lao Kung," Dumbledore went on. "He will be proud to hear of this. You have just demonstrated that, if you have time to prepare, your Occlumency is strong enough to repel a forceful attack. Still, to resist an unexpected attack…. Legilimens."

By catching Harry unawares, Dumbledore was able to penetrate his mind without much difficulty. Almost immediately, Harry felt himself reliving his dragon vision. When the Headmaster finished, less than two minutes later, Harry was on his knees and his scar was throbbing dully.

"You bloody cheater," Harry gasped. "what did you do that for?"

"I thought it was obvious," smiled Dumbledore weakly. "Your Occlumency skills have progressed to the point where you are difficult for me to overcome if you know what is coming. So I had to resort to stealth. Consider it a high compliment, Mister Potter."

"More like a sneak attack," growled Harry, still smarting from the experience. He had to admit, however, that it wasn't nearly as awful as the attacks he had endured from Snape.

"Indeed it was," replied the Headmaster. "You have improved markedly, and I had to go to Plan B. Always remember that age must resort to treachery in order to overcome youth and skill."

With that, the meeting was finally over. As they were leaving Hogwarts, Harry found himself wishing for his own Pensieve, so overwhelmed did he feel with all of the information he had received - Hermione, O.W.L.s, money, fame, training…. Moody had certainly been right, "be careful what you ask for…."

It was only 10:30 p.m. when Harry returned to the Dursley residence, but it felt much later. He went directly to his room. He propped the portrait against the wall, too tired to bother with hanging it that evening. He showered and soon was gazing distractedly out his window at an uncommon thunderstorm that was rumbling by in the distance in the night sky. Lightning played in the billowing thunderhead, which was partially obscured by a puffy cumulus cloud in front of it. It looked like the archway and veil in the Room of Death. `Sirius,' Harry found himself thinking. "Sirius," he found himself sobbing. He might have gained the world, but at what cost?

Harry meditated, and fell into a deep sleep - dreaming of lightning and veils.

* * * *

Author's notes: In my fic Hermione, with her 9/19 birthday is almost a year older than Harry. Given that Hogwarts notifications are sent in midsummer, Hermione could hardly receive notification after she had already started -- which would be necessary if she were to be younger

Note Ludo Bagman's providential presence in Hong Kong

A hint here that everything is not going well for Uncle Vernon at Grunnings.

This chapter contains a very involved OWL report, which I hope comes through the conversion relatively intact

Cho will rebound smartly from Harry's rebuff

A lot of the symbolism from Harry's dream will recur later. From Cho's perspective Harry may well have ruined her life

Masonry drill bits can be quite long

Sefu is Chinese for a teacher, especially of martial arts. I thank one of my reviewers for this nugget

My Dumbledore almost always addresses students by their last name when speaking to them

I've added side along Apparition from HBP. The sensations Harry feels with Apparition are fairly unusual, and they will later change

The reference to the bottom of the lake is to the pressure of ten or more meters of water on the ears

I like to eat hunks of chocolate that have been in the freezer. Gnawing accurately describes the method

As you might expect, the Umbridge inquiry is important, although not in the way you might think

I tend towards the "smart Harry" school, probably because it increases his compatibility with Hermione

Alpha and omega are the first and last letters in the Greek alphabet. I added mu because it is the first letter in magic

Several of these bits of information about goblins become important

A little of Dumbledore's history. I'm not sure whether I'll get into it more later. So far the plot hasn't required it

Auror Candidate School is a play on the US military's Officer Candidate Schools

The Order will be looking for a permanent new HQ most of the summer. They will find an appropriate facility

Black family names have been changed from prior drafts to comport with canon

More on the nature of the Killing Curse later

Generation skipping trusts actually exist. Their usual use is for tax avoidance

Watch the numbers with the Gringotts shares. They become important

The "contradiction in terms" is an old lawyer joke

Dumbledore leaves unspoken just what role he does see Hermione playing in Harry's life

With Bill Weasley chosen to be Harry's guardian, he will become a big part of Harry's life, with predictable results

It was not a very opportune moment for Bill to be summoned

The goblins know a lot about money, but they're not people

Harry's relationship with the goblins will become very important. I thank Horst Pollman's Steel Wings series with opening me to that possibility

Cadbury is a real British company. I learned about it years ago when I visited New Zealand

The math in the Cadbury letter is accurate

Harry has strange things happen when he concentrates strongly

A little about Inferi in light of HBP

I paraphrased a t-shirt type slogan, "age and treachery can always overcome youth and skill"

This is not an R chapter, but later ones will be

Husqvarna is a Swedish tool making company. Flodden is a town in Northern England, and site of a famous battle

The use of "specimen" in this fashion is taken from philately

One in hand, two in the bush

- 54 -

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