A/N: Gah! I'm too invested in this story to abandon it; I have too many ideas for what this story can do to just let it go. I'm un-abandoning it. But I will say that it will probably never be truly finished. A little fact: I absolutely adore Dobby. A close read of chapter two of CoS seems to suggest that Dobby knew explicitly what a Horcrux was, something that could have saved Harry & co. a lot of trouble later on. Also, I think it was stupid to make Harry and Nagini Horcruxes. There will be no living Horcruxes in this story.
Chapter Twenty Two
Summer 1992
Harry Portkeyed from Potter Manor to my living room the morning of 30 July 1992 as my parents and I were eating breakfast in our bright, sunlit kitchen and dining room. Even though his arrival had made no noise, I knew he was there because I could feel a tingle along my magic that signified his presence.
"Harry!" I called, somewhat startling mum and dad from their separate musings. "We're in the dining room!"
Mum smiled at me and shook her head; though I had explained several times to her how I knew he was near me before anyone else could reasonably know such a thing, she still found it somewhat hard to believe. She had teased me a few times about our "magical" connection to each other.
"Morning, everyone," Harry greeted us, as he walked into the room. He looked quite nice but casual in thong sandals, khaki shorts, and a bright polo. In fact, as we all greeted him and he took his seat next to me, I looked more closely at him than I had in a while.
The five weeks or so that had passed since he'd officially left the Dursleys for the Manor had done wonders for him. Not that he had been bad looking before, but the open air and sunshine of the highlands had given his complexion some color; his own home cooking-which I had sampled several times and was just amazing for a young boy-was keeping him more nourished than even Hogwarts had, and he had seemed to grow and fill out a bit in just that short time. It was probably an illusion or wishful thinking, because five weeks was really not a large enough amount of time to notice such things, but he was as happy and as healthy as I had ever seen.
"Morning Harry," dad said, looking up from the newspaper spread before him. "How was your night?" he wondered. Harry usually spent a third or half of each day at my house with me or me and my parents, but the rest of his time was generally spent at the Manor. He was, after all, a magical Lord with land and wealth. He could really do exactly as he pleased, sod what everyone else said. I was extremely delighted that I still figured into his plans; in fact, as the summer had worn on through July, he had come to accept quite easily all that had come with ascending to Lord Potter, and now it was commonplace to talk about what new things he learned about his family's wealth, properties, or history.
"Quite good," Harry said, pouring himself some orange juice and sipping it briefly. He normally ate his breakfast before he appeared here in the morning, so as to not be too much of an imposition. Mum had tried to dissuade him from such foolishness, but he had remained firm and said he would only relent if they could enjoy an equal amount of breakfasts at the Manor. As mum and dad were usually very busy with their dental practice, they could not, so the current arrangement stood for now.
"I finally got around to looking at the rest of the library," he said. I perked up at this.
"Find anything good?" I wondered.
He smiled, shrugging. His eyes were on me now. "Sure, I guess, but I wouldn't really know what you'd consider good. Why don't we head up to the Manor today so you can have a look at some of the older volumes. I think some of them might be from the same time period as the Potter histories I've been reading lately; the handwriting looks nearly the same."
While that was exciting in its own right because the histories of which he spoke were from before the death of Julius Caesar, I knew this was a bit of misdirection. We had talked about taking today to plan a joint birthday party for him and Neville, whose birthdays were the next day. It was somewhat of a surprise party-obviously not for Harry-so my parents only knew that we were up to something, not specifically what that something was.
I smiled back at him. "Sure, that sounds great!"
"Just don't keep her too late, young man!" dad said, doing his best to sound like he was scolding Harry. At the beginning of the summer, Harry probably would have cringed at what was supposed to be a joke, but now he just chuckled and took it in stride.
"Or course not! Why don't you two come up after work and we can all have dinner together?"
"That sounds lovely, Harry, but you must let me do the cooking this time!" mum said.
Harry shook his head, grinning at her. "No way, Mrs. Granger. My house, my cooking!"
I laughed at the ongoing battle between Harry and mum, to which there was absolutely no end in sight. Dad and I shared a glance and his eyes were twinkling with amusement.
"Harry, please, call us Paul and Jane," dad reminded Harry, turning his attention once more to my best friend.
This stopped Harry short. He nodded his head once. "Ok, yes, I'm sorry I keep forgetting Paul; Jane. It will just take some time to get used to it."
"That's ok, Harry, but you don't have to worry about offending us. You're nobility and you're one of the wealthiest people in the world. Really we should be calling you Lord Potter," mum said. She was obviously taking the mickey. "And besides, there is the other more important point: your our Hermione's best friend!"
"Oh, Lord Potter!" I crowed, making eyes at him. Dad started laughing uproariously at that, and even Harry began to laugh again after a moment. "Better watch out, Harry, because all the girls at Hogwarts will be doing that this year," I added. I was satisfied as the smirk wiped itself right off his face. He looked mortified.
"Merlin, Harry, you defeat Voldemort not once, but twice, and the thought of some attention from females sends you running?" I asked him, still playfully.
"You and Sally are enough for me!" he exclaimed, with utmost sincerity. This set mum and dad off again, and breakfast continued to be a boisterous affair to its conclusion. It was easy to forget that Harry was Lord Potter when he acted like an eleven-turning-twelve year old boy should. It was very endearing, too. I put my arm around him toward the end of breakfast, letting him know that I was of course just teasing him. He naturally settled into me.
My parents soon left for work, leaving me alone in the house with Harry. Some part of me understood that they had been extending a lot of implicit trust that summer, with Harry and me alone together so much, but that was actually furthest from my mind at that moment. Real, honest thoughts like that would not come until the next summer.
"So we decided that the Manor would be the best place for this party, right?" Harry asked, reaching for my hand as he clarified the result of an earlier conversation.
I nodded. "Yes. More room. More things to do. And because this is so last-minute, it will probably entice anyone on the fence to come to the party. The Manor is just too unbelievable to pass on an opportunity to spend a day there."
"Thanks," Harry said, warmth in his voice. "I agree. I'm glad my family had such good taste." His hand tightened on mine and I prepared for the feel of Portkey travel…
When nothing happened after a moment, I looked quizzically at him. He just raised his eyebrow at me, this time saying the activation word clearly and loudly. Nothing happened again.
I tried my Portkey, still holding onto his hand. Again, nothing happened. Now Harry looked genuinely puzzled, and I was feeling much the same way. Our Portkeys had never failed before.
"I'll make a new one," he said, pulling his wand from his pocket and wielding the ancient familial magic of the Potter line to make my unused fork into a Portkey to the Manor. I saw and felt the magical flash of the spell, indicating that it had worked, but when Harry picked up the fork and said the activation, nothing happened.
I suddenly felt the ice cold trickle of fear dripping down my back as I sensed that we were being watched. Harry's narrowed eyes told me that he felt something was wrong, too. His jaw clenched and he gripped his wand a little more tightly, searching the room with his eyes while barely moving his head. I carefully pulled my wand from my back pocket and did the same. I knew I wasn't supposed to do magic because of the underage restriction, but Harry had no such limitations anymore, and if it came to a firefight, I would be right there alongside him.
I flinched as, without warning, something popped into existence on the table in front of us. Harry let loose with a bit of wordless magic, but I wisely stayed my hand to see what the results would be. Whatever spell Harry had cast out of his surprise was batted away harmlessly by the creature at which we now both stared. I didn't think about it at the time, but it was the first among many subtle hints about how powerful Dobby really was.
The little thing on the table had huge, bat-like ears and wide, glossy green eyes that were slightly larger than tennis balls. It stared at us from above high, petite cheekbones for a moment, taking in the sight of Harry and me; finally, it bowed almost to the table, so that its long, thin nose was actually touching the wood. I next noticed that it was wearing a ratty old pillowcase with rips for its arms and legs.
For such a regal looking creature I wondered how or why it was dressed so poorly.
"Er…" Harry started. He looked at me. I shrugged. I had no idea what this was or why it was in my house.
"Hello?" Harry both said and asked.
"Lord Harry Potter!!" the creature shouted, finally standing straight and looking at us. Its voice was reedy yet the words were articulate. "So long, so very long has Dobby wanted to meet you, my lord… Such an absolute honor it is…"
"Thank you," Harry returned, glancing at me and raising a rather ironic eyebrow. We both had no idea what was going on, but this creature clearly knew who Harry was.
"What-," Harry started to ask, but cut himself off. "Who are you?"
"Dobby, my lord. Just Dobby. Dobby the house-elf."
Harry paused for a moment, thinking about what to say next, so I charged ahead.
"Pleased to meet you, Dobby. I'm Hermione Granger," I said to him, sticking out my hand. Dobby's eyes widened comically and fat, wet tears pooled along his bottom eyelids. For a moment I thought I had grievously offended him somehow and was about to withdraw my hand when he reached out and shook it vigorously.
"Oh, Dobby has heard and seen much about Lord Potter's Grangy," he said, through his tears. He was still shaking his head. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Harry go red from lack of oxygen as he tried not to laugh at what Dobby had called me. "You is the smartest witch of your generation and likely one of the most powerful. It is an honor to meet you as well, Miss Grangy."
I smiled at Dobby, not bothering to correct him about my name. It was neither here nor there-and Grangy was far better than Hermy.
"Thank you, Dobby," I said. "Why don't you have a seat and tell us why you're here," I told him, motioning to a chair on the other side of Harry with my hand.
But this time tears did not just well up in Dobby's eyes. He literally burst into noisy sobs, staring at us wondrously.
"Sit down!" he wailed. "Never, never have I ever, not once, never…"
"Dobby," Harry said, trying to placate the tiny house-elf. "We did not mean to offend you. We just thought you might be more comfortable-"
"How could Dobby be offended?" he asked, though the words were choppy due to his huge, sobbing breaths. At least the tears had stopped. "Dobby has never been asked to sit by a wizard or a witch, as if Dobby were an equal, it is just unthinkable."
"Then you can't have met many decent people," I said, trying to placate him as he finally settled into the chair.
Dobby the house-elf shook his head briefly. Suddenly his large eyes widened and he stood on the chair, turned around, grabbed the back with both hands, and started beating his head into the wood.
"Bad Dobby!" he screamed. "Bad Dobby! Bad bad bad!"
"Don't do that!" Harry yelled over the elf's voice. Harry hurriedly leaned forward and grabbed Dobby by the shoulders and pulled him back, preventing him from hitting his skull against the chair again. He looked at me and Harry a little cross-eyed.
"Why would you do that?" Harry asked, keeping his hands on Dobby's shoulders. I doubted it would prevent further outbursts if the elf really wanted another go at the chair. I was beyond bewildered now-just confused as all hell and getting more and more concerned about this situation with each passing moment.
"Dobby had to punish himself, my lord. Dobby almost spoke ill of his family."
"Your family?" I asked, not liking the sound of that one bit. If this episode with this Dobby character tied Harry or me to any unfortunate business, I would be one pissed off witch.
"The wizard family Dobby serves, my lord. Dobby is house-elf, after all-bound to serve one house and one family forever."
The words hung in the air for a moment. Harry finally took his hands away from Dobby as he glanced at me. He obviously thought this was as strange as I did. And what was that about house-elves serving families?
But I knew those questions could wait. More pressing was the reason why this house-elf had taken it upon himself to visit us.
"Do they know you're here?" I asked. Dobby's huge green eyes-a lighter shade than Harry's-turned to me. There was fear and possibly revulsion reflected there.
"Oh, no, Miss Grangy, definitely not. Dobby will need to punish himself most severely for coming to see the both of you. Dobby would likely have to boil his hands or close a door on his ears for even thinking about this." He looked at Harry. "If they ever knew, my lord…"
Harry blinked and shook his head slightly. I could feel a headache coming on. "But, Dobby, wouldn't they notice if you boiled your hands?"
I had to smile slightly. Even though we had no idea what was going on, Harry's concern was still for this diminutive creature who referred to himself in the third person and was apparently enslaved.
"Dobby does not think so, my lord. Dobby is always having to punish himself for something, every day in fact. They lets Dobby get on with the punishing, my lord. They often reminds me to do some extra punishing, too."
That cold trickle of fear down my back from earlier had been replaced with utter confusion and now some concern for
this house-elf was creeping in, too. It sounded like he led a miserable existence, and that he was risking life and
limb coming to Harry and me for some yet unknown reason.
"But why don't you leave? Or escape?" I asked. I thought it was obvious question, especially since he was here now.
"A house-elf must be set free, Miss Grangy. And the family will never set Dobby free. As Dobby has heard Muggles say, hell would freeze over before that happened. Dobby will serve the family until he dies."
We both just stared at Dobby. So it really was some form of slavery.
"Can't we help you?" Harry wondered, which set Dobby off again. I almost wanted to roll my eyes at the predictability of it. He was sobbing as he stared adoringly at us.
"Lord Harry Potter asks if he can help Dobby! Dobby has heard of your greatness, my lord, and of yours, Miss Grangy, but of your kindness, Dobby never knew." He then proceeded to blow his long nose into the dirty pillowcase.
I noticed the red of embarrassment high on Harry's cheeks. "Whatever you might have heard about my greatness is a load of rubbish. Hermione, on the other hand, is extremely great. She's top in our year and a wonderful friend!" he said, turning to me and smiling, which reached all the way to his green eyes.
Before I could add that Harry was second in our year and equally as wonderful a friend-and therefore just as "great"-Dobby sniffled and spoke again.
"Lord Potter is humble and modest. My lord speaks not of his triumph over You-Know-Who-"
"You mean Voldemort?" Harry queried.
This shut the elf up for a moment, since he had clapped his hands over his ears and was rocking back and forth in his chair with his eyes closed.
"Not the name," he started mumbling. "Do not speak the name!"
"Sorry?" Harry half-heartedly apologized. He looked at me again and I shrugged my shoulders. This had gone absolutely nowhere so far.
Dobby took his hands from his ears and opened his eyes. There was now a deep, dark fear in his eyes, mixed with the adulation of Harry that was shining through.
"Dobby heard tell that Lord Harry Potter met the Dark Lord again, for a second time, just weeks ago. And that Lord Potter prevailed again." His voice was barely a whisper.
"I suppose you could say that," Harry answered. "Though I would have never even had the chance to meet him or stop him if it weren't for my friends, Hermione, Ron, Sally, and Neville."
The house-elf nearly swooned. This was getting ridiculous. "Oh, my lord! And Miss Grangy! You and your friends are most valiant, bold, and courageous! All have faced so many dangers already! But Dobby has come to protect Lord Potter and Miss Grangy, to warn them…"
Goosebumps made the tiny hairs on my arms stand up as Dobby trailed off. I gripped my wand and I noticed Harry doing the same.
"About what?" Harry asked, carefully.
"Lord Harry Potter and Miss Grangy must not go back to Hogwarts for their second year."
"Why?" I immediately asked. This was not logical at all and I just wanted this whole thing to end. Then we could figure out why we couldn't Portkey to the Manor and get on with our day. This house-elf was clearly crazy.
"Harry Potter and his must stay where they is safe. They is too great, too kind, too important to lose. If they do go back to Hogwarts, they will be in mortal danger."
I was about to ask another question, but Harry carefully laying his wand on the dining table stopped me. I caught of glimpse of his eyes and saw that Harry had definitely had enough of whatever this tripe was.
"Dobby, I want you to listen to me carefully. I mean you no disrespect, but you must be able to see how all this seems to us? We have never met a house-elf before, and you're not exactly doing a wonderful job convincing us of anything. Instead you just do as everyone else has in my life-order me around and tell me to do things or not to do things without explaining why. I'll give you one chance to tell me what this mortal danger is, and then we're done here."
Dobby's ears had gradually drooped to his forehead during Harry's short speech. Nonetheless, he still made eye contact with Harry as he began to speak.
"There is a plot, Lord Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts this year. Dobby has known it for months, my lord. Lord Potter must not put himself in harm's way! He is too great!" The elf was literally shaking as he spoke.
"What terrible things?" I asked.
"Who is plotting them?" Harry questioned.
Dobby made to bash his head against the chair again, but Harry's Seeker hands grabbed him before he could do this. He held Dobby in place.
"All right! You can't tell us! We understand! You don't need to beat yourself up over it!" Harry nearly yelled at him, exasperated.
"Why are you warning us?" I questioned, after a moment of silence in which only heavy breathing could be heard.
I could only draw one conclusion, though, and it chilled me to the bone. Harry voiced what I was thinking.
"Does this have to do with Voldemort?" Only Harry's grip on Dobby prevented the house-elf from covering his ears again. As it was, he squeezed his eyes tightly shut. "You could just nod your head," Harry suggested. The tennis-ball-sized eyes opened slowly.
Dobby shook his head once…but then nodded it once as well.
Harry looked confused. "Indirectly then, Dobby?" I asked. "It does and it does not have to do with Voldemort?" There was barely a reaction this time from the elf, knowing that we would say the name regardless.
He nodded his head.
"You should go to Dumbledore," Harry told the elf. "You should bring this information to Headmaster Dumbledore-you know the Headmaster, right?"
Dobby nodded. "Albus Dumbledore is the greatest head Hogwarts has ever had. Dobby knows him, my lord. Dobby has heard that Dumbledore's strength rivals that of You-Know-Who's at the height of his power and that he was the only the wizard You-Know-Who ever feared. But, my lord, Miss Grangy, there are powers even Dumbledore does not know about, powers no decent wizard should-"
He cut himself off and struggled to punish himself again. Harry held him firmly to his spot.
"You are telling the wrong people this information, Dobby. Dumbledore or someone else in a position of power should hear what you're saying," I said, unsure as to the veracity of the elf's claims and therefore unsure as to how worried I should be over what he was saying. This was all so crazy.
He shook his head. "Dobby can't do that. Dobby is harming himself every moment he is here with Lord Potter and Miss Grangy. If Dobby were to tell someone who could stop it, he would instantly drop dead."
"Then we'll tell Dumbledore," Harry said. "We'll tell someone so you don't have to."
The elf shook his head vigorously once more. "That would mean Lord Potter would have to have contact with Hogwarts again! And that cannot be! No, Dobby will not let this go any further-"
"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Dobby, but I am a magical Lord and can, quite frankly, do as I please. As soon as you leave we'll be leaving for my home. From there, we will most certainly tell someone," Harry said.
I wasn't exactly angry at Dobby-if he was truly magically enslaved how could we blame him for not revealing what he physically could not?-but that didn't mean I didn't want to punch him any less. This whole situation had rocketed past strange into downright mind-numbingly stupid. There were so many options available to Harry and me after Dobby left that he just needed to get going already.
Dobby fidgeted momentarily and shifted his eyes to the side. He looked nervous about what Harry had just told him.
"Lord Potter's home in the Highlands? Where he normally Portkeys?" the elf asked. Both questions were rhetorical in nature, which explained his nervousness.
"Dobby…" I said. Something in my voice must have alerted Harry to the trouble. He looked at me and then back to Dobby. "Did you make it so we can't Portkey to Harry's house?" I concluded.
The elf was now so frantic he was bouncing on the balls of his feet and looking anywhere but us. "Lord Harry Potter and his Miss Grangy must not be angry! Dobby hoped if they were unable to go to Harry's ancestral home they would just forget about Hogwarts! And magic!"
Harry's voice was low and angry when he next spoke:
"Do you realize how absurd that is? Magic is my family. Stop whatever it is you are doing to prevent us from Portkeying out of here," he demanded.
"Will Harry Potter say he is not going back to Hogwarts?" Dobby asked, shrugging out of Harry's hands in a decidedly human gesture and climbing onto the table once again.
"No."
"Then Dobby has no choice, my lord-"
"As Lord Potter, I demand it!" Harry tried again,
Dobby gave us a tragic look. "Lord Potter has no authority over Dobby. Only Dobby's family does. Dobby must leave now."
"Wait-" I tried, but the house-elf vanished. There was the faint crackle of a magical discharge, but then nothing.
Harry tried the Portkeys again and made another new one, but nothing worked. He looked desperately at me; being cut off from his home and newly discovered heritage was in danger of overwhelming him, and was making it so he could not think clearly.
"Calm down, Harry, it's alright," I said, leaning in and giving him a hug. He relaxed slowly as he returned the hug. "Let's think about this. I doubt Dobby could prevent us from using a Portkey over a very large area, so we just walk far enough away from my house and try it again."
"What about the rest of what he said?"
I shrugged. "I guess we tell Dumbledore when next we seem him?"
Harry nodded. "I could also write to him, I suppose…"
Further contemplation of how to pass on Dobby's veiled threats was cut off, however, by the ringing of my doorbell. Harry followed me as I went to answer it, staying close behind me. He had his wand in his hand still and I didn't blame after all that Dobby had said. I threw open the door and stopped the greeting that was about to leave my mouth. I was shocked once again that morning. I could almost sense Harry's shock from beside me, as well.
Standing on my porch in an expensive, tailored business suit was none other than Albus Dumbledore. This would have been strange by itself, but we had not seen him since that day he had been waiting for us upon our return from Gringotts. It seemed that there had been changes other than his attire since then.
His beard was no more; whatever facial hair he had was instead trimmed into a neat little goatee. His hair was considerably shorter, though it was still long enough to be pulled tightly into a ponytail that reached to between his shoulder blades. His glasses no longer sat at the end of his crooked nose-they had been replaced with a pair that had slightly larger lenses and sat comfortably on the bridge of his nose, as glasses were supposed to. He had his arms clasped behind his back and was the image of perfect health and wealth.
The most disconcerting thing of all was definitely the business suit. I had never before seen Dumbledore in anything other than his brightly colored robes.
The Headmaster smiled at our obvious surprise. "Ah, how fortunate," he said. "I had hoped to find at least you here, Hermione, but I see that you are not alone."
"Sir…what…?" Harry managed.
"I have many things I wish to discuss with you two, and I know that I cannot reach Potter Manor myself, so I thought I would ask Hermione if she could get in touch with you. But this is not something we should do while standing in the doorway. May I come in?"
"You're not going to try to curse us again, are you?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. With the drastic changes visually evident in the Headmaster, who knows? His sanity could have been compromised.
Dumbledore had the good grace to look ashamed. "No, I will not be lifting my wand against you. I deeply regret that hasty action and, even though I have already taken a magical oath against it, I will apologize once again and say that it was probably one of my gravest mistakes."
Harry and I looked at each other. A silent conversation passed between our gazes and he nodded. We stepped aside and let Dumbledore cross the threshold into my home.
"Actually, sir, you're just the wizard we wanted to see," Harry said as we led the Headmaster into the living room. With Dumbledore's curiosity piqued by that simple statement, the rest was easy: Harry and I told him the story of the rest of our morning, leaving out no details. We sat on the couch across from the chair he was in; he listened attentively, asking only a few brief questions.
"So you cannot Portkey out of here?" Dumbledore asked.
Harry nodded the confirmation. Dumbledore stood and drew his wand, pointing it straight up into the air before we could even think he might be drawing on us. He began to mumble under his breath. After just a moment of that he stopped, smiled at us, and sat back down.
"There was a house-elf anti-Portkey ward around this property, but I have removed it. You should be free to Portkey at will now."
"Thanks, Headmaster," Harry said. The old man in the business suit inclined his head. "You said you had some things to discuss?"
"Yes."
"We were about to head up to the Manor before Dobby interrupted us. Do you want to talk there?" Harry inquired. I thought he was extending the Headmaster a lot of trust, considering how their last meeting had started.
"I would be delighted, Harry, Hermione," he said. He seemed very pleased to have been invited to Harry's home. Harry held out his hand to me and leaned forward, doing the same for the Headmaster. I looked into his eyes as we both reached for his hands, and they were asking me to trust him. I nodded and smiled.
"Fortiori," he said, and the world tilted out of true as we Portkeyed to the Manor.
Like always, we appeared in the second-floor loft, which was beginning to truly brighten with midmorning sunlight. As usual for summer in the northern Highlands, there was barely a cloud in the bluebird skies. I knew this because of the many balconies and skylights, which all showed the wonderful picture of an exquisite July day.
"So what about this Dobby character?" I wondered, as Dumbledore and I followed Harry toward the stairs that led to the rest of the Manor. I saw that Dumbledore was looking around with something akin to warm recognition, as if he had been here before but not in some time.
"Well, you both did the right thing in telling me about what transpired. While I would not exactly say his threats were credible, he does belong to the Malfoys…"
"The Malfoys?" Harry asked, leading us down the stairs. "Now I really feel sorry for him."
"Yes," Dumbledore agreed, sighing. "Unfortunately he took a great risk in telling you anything about his family or his master's plans. As I am sure you have experienced at Hogwarts already, the Malfoy family is not exactly the most pleasant bunch of people in magical Britain. While anyone would be hard-pressed to get anything dangerous inside the school, rest assured that, because of this, we will be taking the proper precautions when school starts in the September. This means that everyone will likely have to be searched."
"After our rather strange morning, Headmaster, I am sure that Harry and I do not have a problem with that," I said, liking what I was hearing so far. As Dobby's information had been spotty and veiled, at best, there was little Dumbledore could do. After all, you couldn't get a search warrant based on the possible ravings of a rogue house-elf.
"Not at all," Harry agreed. We had finally reached the ground floor foyer. Harry turned right and led us through a door and into the large kitchen and dining area. He motioned toward the patio off the back of the kitchen, some of which had just entered into sunlight as the orb rose higher intp the sky.
We stepped out into the Scottish air, sitting around a large, circular table in comfortable chairs. It was around 20C, which was comfortable in the sun.
Deciding to break the ice, I asked, "Sir, why are you dressed like that?" Dumbledore had wanted to speak with us for a reason, so no use delaying.
"Right to the heart of the matter," Dumbledore said, touching his forehead as if awarding me points in a duel. "The answer to that question is the result of a long story, one I hope to be able to tell you two this morning."
"By all means," I said. Harry agreed.
"When I left you last I knew that I had to change some things before I saw you or any of the other students again," he started, taking his glasses off and setting them on the able. With his goatee and shortened hair, it made him look half his age. "What you said to me, Hermione, in the Hospital Wing struck me at the time, as you saw at the leaving feast, but it wasn't until you told me, Harry, that your parents had named me in their will as a possible guardian should anything have happened to them that I was really pushed off my rocker.
"Something you have to understand about me is that I am very old. I am, modesty aside, magically quite powerful, and that has kept me looking much younger and much healthier than my years would normally allow. I was born on August 14, 1852, which means I will be turning 140 in about two weeks." He then laughed at the open shock on our faces.
"As you are both quite magically powerful yourselves-and you yet have much growing to do in that regard-I am sure both of you can look forward to lives just as long if you take care of yourselves."
With that revelation percolating in our brains, he continued:
"In all of that time, I had ascended to three positions of power within the magical world: Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and Headmaster of Hogwarts. These positions did not come all at once, but my position as Headmaster was the most recent, which unfortunately as I look back I am loathe to admit put it third on my list of professional priorities.
"I know I said at the leaving feast that I would be withdrawing my tenure as Supreme Mugwump, and I have done that already. But since then I have also decided to withdraw my tenure as Chief Warlock, which I have also done already. At this point in my life I can safely say that Hogwarts should have and does have my full attention.
"What you told me about your parents, Harry, reminded me of what outstanding and unstoppable students they were. Their scores may not have been quite as high as your own or Hermione's so early in their careers at Hogwarts, but by the time they graduated they were top in everything. They were dedicated to each and to the rest of their little group of friends, they were outstanding students and athletes, they fought extremely hard for a cause they believed in, and they were very capable, loving parents for two who were so young."
Harry was just listening to all of this with rapt attention. I was erring on the side of the caution and keeping my eyes and ears open, but that did not mean that this wasn't all fascinating.
"James and Lily Potter were examples of the finest Hogwarts could produce, in all senses of the term, and unfortunately that was probably only half of them because of what the school actually offered. There was a war going on at the time and blood prejudice had nearly split the school in two, so the classes were often quite strained and professors would come and go very quickly. If Hogwarts had been able to match its educational legacy I have no doubt that your parents would have been much more formidable than they already were.
"Which brings me to one of my points. Hogwarts has not matched its educational legacies for quite some time, since probably before the war with Grindewald. There are various excuses I could give for myself and for the heads before me, but in the end it all comes down to our divided attention. We were not showing the school and the education of the future of our society the respect it deserved, which is something I intend to change drastically as we move forward into another year.
"I examined your and your friends' test scores in some detail-from a Hogwarts perspective, a European perspective, and a global perspective-and I came to the conclusion based on cold, hard statistics that there has not been a group of first years as capable as you ten Gryffindors in a very, very long time, if ever. I don't say this to put pressure on you; quite the opposite, actually. I say this to put pressure on Hogwarts herself, to push you to the best of your abilities. Anything else would be a waste of your time there.
"To that end, and toward overall educational reform at Hogwarts, there will be further changes from what I mentioned at the leaving feast. You will still live in your Houses and be sorted in your first year, but most other House divisions will cease-no House tables, no House cup, no House Quidditch rivalry. House points are being eliminated entirely, beyond what I said at the end of last year, because even points awarded on merit will probably cause some unlikely competition.
"Instead, you will now be ranked according to year as most other magical schools do it; you saw that ranking on your exam marks, but now it will become more integral to what we do at Hogwarts. As Headmaster, I will now be taking a more direct role in evaluating classes and professors, sitting in on at least one class for each professor every week.
"Also, several classes are being eliminated from the curriculum. I know you've taken neither, but Divination is being dropped entirely and Muggle Studies is being suspended for at least a year while Professor Burbage updates the curriculum to the current decade. The Ministry's approved curriculum predates the Second World War."
I was appalled by this. I had wanted to take Muggle Studies in my third year to experience Muggle life from the Wizarding perspective, but it was obviously decades old and useless. I did not interrupt Dumbledore, though, because he was on a roll.
"Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Herbology, Astronomy, Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, and History of Magic will all remain, though I have already sacked Binns and banished him from the castle. It has been nearly a century since that class was worth anything, and the search is currently on for a History professor who will be up to our new standards.
"Ancient Runes and Arithmancy-key to a deeper understanding of magic than just silly wand-waving-will now be required for all seven years at Hogwarts; as will all classes, actually, even if students decide not to take NEWTS. After all, what is the point of spending two more years at Hogwarts beyond OWLS if just to slack? In any case Second and Third Years this year will be required to move doubly fast in those subjects to catch up with the planned curriculum. Third years will also probably have similarly-paced instruction for the beginning of their Fourth year. Fourth and Fifth years who had not taken the course in the past we hope to have ready for their OWLS by the time they graduate, and to that end they will take a combined class. Sixth and seventh years who were not in those classes will at least be exposed to them before they graduate.
"We are also adding two new courses to the curriculum this year-yes, Hermione?" he asked, sensing I wanted to interrupt him. Harry was still absorbing everything, though I was happy to see his eyes light up at all the magical education that would now be available.
"Two more courses? On top of adding Runes and Arithmancy? Won't that overload some of the less educationally-inclined students?"
Dumbledore returned with a feral grin that surprised me. "Right you are, Hermione, but I can assure you that the new Hogwarts will not tolerate slackers. We will of course offer any extra help needed by students who are genuinely putting forth the effort, but subpar performance caused by subpar work ethics will be dealt with unequivocally. Hogwarts was once the greatest magical school in the world, and though statistically it still sits in the top twenty percent, the reality of the situation is that the extra-bright students at the top of the pile pull the rest of the underachieving school up.
"The two classes we are adding are also much more practical in nature than nearly every other class, which should entice students to do their best. The first will be called Magical Dueling and Combat. It will be taught once per week per year by Professor Flitwick. He is an internationally renowned duelist and jumped at the chance to teach this."
"Wicked!" Harry said, which was his first word in quite some time. "Are we also going to have a better Defense professor this year?"
"I was getting to that, but yes, most assuredly. The other new class will be called Advanced Spellcasting and will focus on non-traditional ways of using your magic, such as wandless and wordless spellcasting, spells cast from staves, group casting, runic empowerment, and many other things."
I couldn't help but smile as I imagined the possibilities of that class. It sounded like exactly what students needed-something outside the box to occasionally take their minds off more rote classes and push them beyond normal boundaries.
"And who will be teaching that class?" I asked.
"Me," Dumbledore responded, grinning at us. I honestly don't think I'd ever seen him that happy.
I couldn't stop my mouth before it ran away from me:
"The great and all-powerful Headmaster Dumbledore would deign to interact with-to teach-mere students?" I questioned. Though it was said partly in jest, I heard the bitterness buried deep in my voice. Dumbledore's smiled lessened but did not disappear. I felt Harry's hand close over mine under the table, offering me silent support.
"Bluntly, Hermione, I have been a manipulative old bastard for far too long now. Excuse my language, please," he added. He didn't sound too sorry about it. "I have played so many things too close to my chest over the past few decades that I lost sight of what is really important, and that is teaching the future of our society how to be upstanding, knowledgeable, and tolerant witches and wizards. I have also somewhat lost touch with the wider world, which is why you see me dressed as I am today.
"During the past five weeks, I have caught myself up to the goings-on of the Muggle world, and I must say that it is overwhelming how quickly things change with them. Their technology is amazing and now does much of what only magic could accomplish a century ago. I have been living among Muggles in City London while working with the Ministry and Hogwarts to push all the changes I have just told you about. I want to be an informed Headmaster, not some useless icon who sits in his office thinking about how best to impress his awestruck students.
"Harry's parents naming me as a possible guardian proved to me just how out of touch I was, because I felt that I had to quite illegally circumvent the laws in place to protect Harry. Not only was that morally reprehensible, but it was also completely against everything I had been raised to be as an upstanding magical citizen. The fact that I was my own Head of House doing that to another future Head of House makes it even worse.
"Lord Potter, you would be completely within your rights to declare a blood feud on me and House Dumbledore if you wanted, but I hope to avoid that presently and in the future with my new approach to being a Headmaster and a teacher. I have nearly endless mistakes to atone for, but I want to start right now."
Harry and I watched as he pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket. "Lord Potter, I formally apologize for any slights to yourself or House Potter. I have consulted with Gringotts and included in this envelope is a bank draft for an amount they considered adequate reparations for hardships I have caused you. This includes, among other things, keeping secrets from you and your parents about the prophecy and Voldemort." He pushed the envelope across the table toward Harry.
"The money is only the first formal step. Remus Lupin, who was the first man named in your parents' will, is employed as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts. He was one of the most intelligent students that has passed through Hogwarts and a very powerful wizard; the fact that he is also a lycanthrope took some convincing of the Ministry, but after he sat for and passed their Auror exams, they allowed me to hire him uncontested."
"Lycanthrope?" Harry asked.
"A werewolf," I supplied.
"Yes, Hermione. He was bitten when he just a boy and has lived with the affliction all his life. It has limited his job prospects, so he was quick to accept my offer. In fact, he has not kept a job for very long since your parents' deaths, Harry, so Hogwarts and teaching will be good for him. Add in the fact that he knew your parents as only a best friend could, and I think you may have another wellspring of information about your family."
"Still manipulating, Headmaster?" I asked. This was an obvious ploy to get back in Harry's good graces.
"Well-deserved," he admitted. "To be fair, though, my first priority with Remus was hiring a competent Defense teacher. It is a boon that it also connects Harry to his parents. After my actions toward Lord Potter in the past, it is just one step of many toward a complete reconciliation I hope may occur down the road."
Harry reached for the envelope. "Headmaster Dumbledore, I formally accept the reparations on behalf of House Potter. Know that the Lord Potter is intrigued by what you have said so far about Hogwarts. He only hopes that House Dumbledore can live up to all its promises."
I approved of Harry's formality in this matter. Familiarity with the Headmaster was one thing, but it wouldn't do to jump into the man's arms after he had all but just admitted to manipulating Harry's life from the get-go.
"I and Hogwarts will do our best. Now, the other man listed in your parents' will was Sirius Black. What do you know about him?"
Harry shrugged. "Nothing. I'm assuming he was a close friend of my parents."
"Indeed he was. However, based on all the evidence that was available at the time, it would seem that he was also the one that betrayed your parents to Voldemort."
Harry was stunned, and I was not far behind. "But how could he do that? If he was one of their best friends?"
"That was the question on everyone's mind at the time, but with your vanquishing of Voldemort, magical Britain soon forgot about that fact and celebrated the end of a war that had brought us to the very edge of annihilation."
"I don't like the sound of that," I told him. "What happened to Sirius Black?"
"He was incarcerated without trial at the Wizarding prison of Azkaban, which is a forlorn bit of rock in the North Sea. That is where he has been since November 1, 1981."
"No trial?!" I almost yelled. "How could someone like that not receive a trial? If the evidence made his guilt such a foregone conclusion, why were the laws ignored like that?"
Dumbledore shrugged. "I do not know. That was not my doing. However," he kept going, seeing Harry's look, "I also did nothing to insist upon a trial for the man. In my capacity as Chief Warlock, I could have, had it been a priority. Unfortunately, it was not."
"Now I'll never know why he betrayed my parents," Harry said, quietly. He had looked away from the table toward Loch Shin, which was sparkling like so many diamonds.
"That is not exactly true, Harry. Our current ministry inherited the problem of Sirius Black, and I am no longer the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, but I have made some progress anyway. It will take some time to convince the right people of the necessity of the trial-everyone still wants to forget about those dark days of Voldemort-but I think sometime this year we can bring the man back from Azkaban for a trial. I myself have some lingering doubts about the whole thing and want some closure. I suggested the Fidelius to your parents-the charm that hid them away-and the fact that their Secret Keeper betrayed them has weighed heavily on my mind all these years. I should probably have been their Keeper."
"Why wouldn't they just hide at one of the Potter properties?" Harry asked.
"Too many people knew about most of them at that time so it would have taken a full reset of all the wards to really lock them all down. And also, your parents did not want the possibility of an attack by Death Eaters to sully the Ancient and Noble property of the Potters, so they went with what should have been a foolproof alternative."
"People are always the biggest security flaw," I said, quietly. All this talk about Harry's parents and their betrayer had affected Harry's spirits. I hoped that we could soon turn toward happier things.
"There is one other thing I need to come clean on," Dumbledore said. It looked like the bombs would keep dropping. "You remember the prophecy, Harry?"
"Of course, how could I forget?" was the dark-haired young wizard's indignant response. I squeezed Harry's hand, which was still in mine.
"I am well past the point where I believe it with every fiber of my being, but prophecies have been right in the past. Regardless, your upcoming new and improved magical education will prepare you beyond any personal training I could have given you for what is to come, if it is to come at all. Add to that fact that your friends and professors would undoubtedly stand by you if there ever came a time when Voldemort somehow reappeared, and you should rest a little easier knowing you will not be alone."
"How could he come back, Headmaster?" Harry asked, his eyes and his voice penetratingly direct. I'd had similar questions at the back of my mind since the end of the school year.
"I am now prepared to answer that question, unlike the end of last year. It is yet another formal step in a long line toward reconciliation between us: full disclosure." He paused here, considering something. "Shall we take a walk to the Loch? This information is …difficult."
So we got up from the table and walked east toward the shores of Loch Shin. Harry had placed the envelope from Dumbledore is his hip pocket.
There was a gentle downhill slope from the Manor to the water's edge, which we strolled along slowly. Dumbledore removed his black jacket as the sun was a little stronger out from behind the house.
"Voldemort immersed himself in the most arcane dark magics, the darkest of which we call Necromancy. You would be hard-pressed to find books on this subject it is so dark; most of the tomes that record anything about Necromancy are passed down through families."
"That's magic that deals with the dead, correct?"
"Right you are, Harry. For obvious reasons, most think Necromancy to be so dark that it is pure evil. Voldemort, on the other hand, delighted in his research, and stumbled across a few spells that would allow his soul to remain on this plane of existence should his body be destroyed. He was obsessed with immortality because he thought the ultimate showing of his ultimate power would be to cheat death. I have my own opinion which is that nothing mortal could ever be truly immortal, but Voldemort would not have agreed.
"Most were unsavory to him because they either relegated his spirit to the realm of the ghosts and poltergeists or made it nigh impossible to ever actually regain a body. There was one spell, however, that piqued his interest. This ritual, combined with an extremely dark act like a murder, would allow the caster to anchor part of his or her soul in an object, thus preventing it from passing on upon bodily death. The theory behind the spell is that souls can only pass on when completely whole, so that would allow Voldemort to regain a body should the parts of his soul meet someone he had already possessed."
"That's awful, Headmaster," I said, completely repulsed by what I was hearing. Voldemort was dabbling in things no one ever should.
"Yes," he agreed. "Truly awful. And although most of that is an educated guess, I would wager my weight in galleons that I am correct. How else could Voldemort have come back and possessed Quirrell so thoroughly if his soul was not anchored to this world? Why did he not pass on when you defeated him, Harry? The answers to these questions can only lead me to believe that he created at least one Horcrux, and possibly more."
"He split his soul more than once?" Harry said, incredulously, as we reached the shores of the Loch. The water was gently lapping against the small pebble beach in the wind. The other side of the Loch had the nice sandy beach.
"I think so," Dumbledore said. "Which is why I will be spending future summers looking into this."
"Why wouldn't you let the Ministry handle this, sir?" I asked.
"The current Ministry wants to forget that Voldemort ever existed. There are some forward thinking members of our government-Amelia Bones and Kingsley Shacklebolt, to name two-that I will be informing before schools starts of all I suspect and know, but the bureaucracy that is the Ministry of Magic is slower than I amm ever likely to be. However, as I have said, Hogwarts is my first priority, and I do not think Voldemort will be powerful enough to even possess a rabbit for a few years. We have time to accomplish what we need to, if we are even correct about this, so we should move ahead with our lives. We can and should plan for the future, but we should not let this consume us.
"Prophecies and divination in general are wooly things, so they are best trusted carefully. I will not let down James and Lily Potter, who saw fit to trust me as your guardian. I know I can never be that guardian now that you are Lord Potter and Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, but you should know that House Dumbledore is behind you."
"Thank you, Headmaster," Harry said, turning to the old man and sticking out his hand. Dumbledore shook it with a somber face.
"You are welcome, Harry. And please, outside of school, call me Albus. Your parents did and I would be honored if you did the same." He turned to me. "The same goes for you, Hermione."
"Surely…Albus," I said, also sticking out my hand. He shook it with a small smile now stretching his features.
"I must be getting along," he said, turning toward the Manor and taking in the vista of the heath and the wide-open Highlands. "Thank you for your time and for telling me about Dobby. I will pass the information on to Amelia Bones, who is the Director of Magical Law Enforcement. And we will be, as I said, searching all belongings come September."
"Albus, will you be dressing like this during school?" Harry questioned, motioning to the suit.
"No Harry, but I will not be wearing my gaudy robes either. As Headmaster I am entitled to wear outer robes with trim for all four houses. Otherwise, I will be dressing much the same as the male students."
"I see," Harry said. It would be very different without the eccentric version of the Headmaster at Hogwarts, I was sure about that! And I was already looking forward to all the new classes and all the new knowledge.
"I hope you will allow me to visit now and again," the Headmaster said.
"Send Fawkes with a note and I'm sure we can work something out," Harry replied.
"Spot on, Harry. I must walk to the edge of the wards to Disapparate, so I will be seeing you. Happy birthday," he said, and turned away from us. We watched silently for several minutes as the Headmaster walked south along the shores of Loch Shin. Harry had moved closer to me and put his arm around my back, something which made me very happy.
When Dumbledore was but a dark speck against the glare of the water, he suddenly disappeared. He must have reached the edge of the wards.
"Well, what do you think?" Harry asked me.
"I think we better get up to the loft as soon as possible. We're supposed to meet Ron and Sally to plan for tomorrow's party in a few minutes." The loft was where all the Portkeys Harry had made entered the property.
We turned from the loch and walked hand in hand back up to the Manor. It still hadn't really sunk in that this glorious property and this beautiful house were Harry's, or that he was inconceivably rich and had other properties all over the world. He was still just Harry to me, as I hope he always would be.
He pulled the envelope from his pocket and opened it. He shook his head slowly at the bank draft inside and passed it to me. I nearly dropped it when I saw that it was for three million galleons.
"Wow," I said.
"The goblins seem to have taken a pretty harsh line with House Dumbledore," Harry said.
"Will you just deposit it, Harry?" I wondered. What were three million galleons to a billionaire?
"Probably, yes. But I have some ideas on how to invest it…"
"Oh?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You'll just have to wait and see!" he sing-songed.
I laughed and tickled him briefly as we approached the house. I thought of something else soon thereafter, so the laughter died away. "Do we tell our friends everything Dumbledore told us?" I wondered aloud.
"He didn't say we couldn't, and I think he would have if he wanted us to keep it all to ourselves. I may leave out the details about Sirius Black for now, but the rest of it, including Dobby, yes. No secrets from each other or our friends, right?" He looked at me as we crossed the front door into the foyer.
"Definitely not, Harry," I told him, stopping and turning to draw him into a hug. He had just learned quite a bit about his parents' end and the man partially responsible for that, so he had to be hurting inside. That he returned the hug quite strongly was a good indication that some physical support from me was just what he needed was good to know.
"Thanks, Hermione," he said, speaking into my hair because of the hug. "You're the best and I don't know what I would do without you."
"I feel the same about you, Harry," I told him, nearly overcome with affection for him. Every day he was more and more becoming someone I could not afford to ever lose. Our hug continued silently for at least a minute.
"Oi, Harry!" a voice yelled. It had filtered down the stairs from the loft.
"That'll be Ron," Harry said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.
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