Here Be Monsters

Wednesday 3 July 1996

1215 GMT

"Albus!" Arabella exclaims, turning quickly. Harry looks up with a wince.

I have found over many years that in a crisis, calm and humor almost always serve better than panic. Fighting down my surge of distress, I give a concerned smile and say, "My goodness, Harry, only five days out of Hogwarts and already missing Madam Pomfrey?"

"It isn't as bad as it looks," Arabella explains, hurrying to Harry's side carrying a wet cloth and a bottle of healing balm, "it's mainly just scratches and such - and a few bites." She proceeds to sponge off the blood and spread the balm over the boy's chest and face, where I now see the long, angry abrasions, along with bite marks on his cheek and at the base of his throat. Remus brushes past me and hurries to Harry for a closer look.

I shoot a look at Tonks, who is pressing against the refrigerator like she would like to meld into it. The young Auror blushes and says, "It was a dog, on the sidewalk."

"A dog?" I withdraw my bag of lemon drops from my sleeve and offer them to Harry.

"Itkindasortalookedalittlelikesnuffles," the boy gabbles, looking down at his feet again.

"Pardon me, Harry?" I inquire softly. Remus takes him by the chin and forces his head up. He looks at us somewhat defiantly.

"I said it looked a little like Snuffles."

Remus moves his hand to Harry's shoulder with an expression of distress and sympathy. I give Harry my "I'm-very-concerned-but-not-panicked look."

"It was a big black dog," Tonks continues. "It walked right up and seemed friendly, but when Harry tried to pet it for some reason it jumped on him and started biting and clawing." She gestures to a red-stained rag on the table, which I realize is the remains of Harry's shirt.

"And where were you when this was going on?!" Remus snaps, glaring at Tonks, who tries even harder to melt into the refrigerator. I have to admit the werewolf's passive streak seems to be fading fast.

"Well, the dog was trailing a leash, and my feet...sort of got tangled up in it."

Remus snorts and turns back to Harry. Pulling out his wand he begins to mutter healing charms to aid the balm. With the blood sponged off I see that Arabella is correct and the scratches did indeed appear much worse than they really are. The balm and charms are already causing them to close and fade. The bites look fierce and inflamed, but are also healing rapidly under the combined ministrations of wizard and squib. I realize that I have been clenching my throat muscles against rising gorge, and I remember Arthur's remarks about getting sick at the sight of Harry's blood. How right he was.

Relaxing with an effort, I smile and offer Tonks a lemon drop. "We shall have to add leash avoidance to Auror training." She gives me a shy, grateful grin and takes one of the candies.

"Better, Harry?" I inquire softly.

He shrugs, not meeting my eyes. "S'Okay." Now that I get a good look at him, I feel a stab of genuine shock. He is pale with deep circles under his eyes. His normally wild hair is tangled and matted, and the set of his mouth is grim - much too grim for one so young.

Albus, what have you done?

I begin to wonder if I did the right thing after all. NO. He had a right to be told the truth. Now it is up to us to help him bear it.

Arabella bustles about and produces a large turtleneck from somewhere. It hangs loosely on Harry, but no worse than many of his other clothes.

"If you don't mind, lunch will be a little late," Arabella announces with an apologetic smile, "I need to go pick up a couple of things. Perhaps you could talk for a few minutes?" Moving close to me she murmurs "Also, I want to go be Diagon Alley and pick up a few healing potions for Harry. Otherwise I'm afraid he'll have awful bruises. Not to mention that we need to get some protective draughts into him against whatever diseases that creature might have been carrying."

I nod in understanding and approval. "I'm sure we can entertain ourselves for a while, Arabella."

With a hustle and bustle and flurry of last minute instructions to her cats, Arabella hurriedly climbs the stairs and floos away. I signal to Tonks to lag behind as Remus and Harry climb the stairs.

"Tonks, what became of the dog?" I am not at all satisfied that the appearance of a fierce dog that just happened to look like Sirius' animagus form can be put down to coincidence.

Tonks understands immediately what I'm getting at. "I levitated it off Harry and into the bushes. It jumped over the bushes and ran away. I shot one stunner after it, but I thought I had better get Harry to Arabella's, so I didn't give chase."

"You were correct. I don't like this at all, though."

"Neither do I," she confesses. She is looking down and not meeting my gaze.

"Tonks," I say softly, "Getting caught in a brawl is one of the most difficult situations for any wizard to handle. That you fell is not surprising. What is admirable is that you recovered and extricated Harry before he was really badly injured."

Nymphadora looks up shyly and smiles her thanks. After she takes a lemon drop, we ascend to the sitting room where Remus, Tonks, and I take seats while Harry stands awkwardly.

"No need to stand, Harry," I assure him, gesturing at an empty spot on the couch next to Remus.

He just shrugs again, refusing to meet my eye. I get the distinct impression that I'm being punished for not looking at him all this past year.

//Turnabout and all that.//

"We have been worried about you, Harry." Remus says softly.

"M'Alright," Harry mumbles, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

The three adults exchange glances, none of us in the least fooled. I rise and walk over to him. Placing my hand on his chin, I gently force his head up. His eyes are haunted and dark with unshed tears. I see no trace of the serpent in his gaze now, but that is little comfort.

"Was the vision you called me about your first since Leavetaking, Harry?"

"Yeah," he swallows hard, "it's the first time I've seen Voldemort since the Ministry."

He's hiding something. He isn't lying - not specifically. But he's not telling the whole truth either.

"And what about other dreams, Harry?" I prod.

I look of defiance settles on his features and his eyes close like shutters. "They're not too bad."

I exchange a quick glance with Remus again. Harry sees us and the look of defiance grows more fierce.

Well, he will never open up in front of such a large audience. I decide to try a different approach. "Have you been practicing your Occlumency?"

He relaxes a little, but still has an air of suspicion. "Yeah. I've tried to do it four hours a day, like you said. It's kind of hard, though."

I allow my hand to rest gently on his shoulder. "I know, Harry. It is a very difficult art. But it will get easier with time. What focus are you using? You don't need to switch foci too often, but sometimes it does help if you find your mind straying."

"Focus?" He looks puzzled. "What's a focus, Professor?"

"What technique did Professor Snape recommend you use when closing your mind?"

"He just said to empty my mind of all thoughts." Harry grimaces. "Easy for Snape to say."

"Professor Snape, Harry," I correct automatically, feeling a sense of dismay. Although blanking of the mind is certainly an Occlumency technique, it is an advanced goal, not normally the first step in training. My mistake in having Severus teach the boy was even greater than I thought. In his disdain for the task, and for his pupil, he positioned Harry for failure by leaping impatiently to the higher levels of the art.

I must have inadvertently tightened my hand on Harry's shoulder, because he winces despite the healing charms and balms. "I'm sorry, Harry. Why don't you go downstairs and lie down until lunch is ready? We will have plenty of time to talk this afternoon."

Harry rewards me with what actually might be the skeleton of a smile. "Thanks professor," he says softly, "See you in a few minutes Tonks, Prof ... Moony."

Remus smiles fondly at the name, but Harry looks so sad that I feel an urge to cry. We watch silently as Harry walks stiffly down the stairs. Remus drops his head into his hands.

"Remus?" Tonks asks, "What is it?"

"Everything," he say, "everything is wrong! Harry should be worrying about attracting girls, not repelling dark lords. He should be practicing quidditch maneuvers, not patronus charms!"

"I know," I say softly, "it's all wrong. It's wrong and cruel and so unfair that you want to strike out at someone. But all we can do is dedicate ourselves to helping Harry, to making sure he survives."

"Survives for what?" Remus asks sadly. "The boy has no life! His entire existence is wrapped up in defeating Voldemort! Even if he wins, what will be left?"

//Well, you could stuff him and put him on display in the Great Hall.//

"All I have wanted," I reply, "for a long time, is for Harry to be happy. I have failed miserably. All I can do, however, is continue trying."

"I should have talked to Snape," Remus says softly.

"What about?" Tonks is looking from one to the other of us with mounting concern on her face.

"When Harry firetalked to Sirius and me about how Snape wasn't giving him lessons anymore, Sirius wanted to storm up to Hogwarts and shake Snape by the scruff of the neck. I told him I would deal with it." Remus wrings his hands and sighs. "But I didn't. I thought it would do no good to speak with Severus, at least not then. I thought we could sort it out after everyone's tempers cooled. But then events took over and I just never said anything about it." He drops his head like a man defeated.

//Pathetic excuse for a predator.//

This has always been Remus' weakness - passivity and self-doubt. I had hoped that making him a prefect years ago would help him overcome it, but James and Sirius were too dominant. Of course the burden of being a werewolf has also been extraordinary for Remus. It has alienated him, made him feel helpless and unworthy. When powered by great passion, such as the concern for Harry he has been showing these last couple of days, he can be formidable indeed. But when his passion dies down, when the flame burns low as it inevitably must, Remus has no reserves, no firm foundations of confidence on which to rely. Even in the grip of his love for Harry, he is still prey to crippling guilt and hesitation. But for his sake, and for Harry's, Remus must not be allowed to wallow in his self-recriminations.

"We all made many mistakes in that affair, Remus. It is my fault above all."

"And Snape's," Remus says bitterly.

How to answer that? On the simplest level, he is of course correct. Indeed, when I first heard that Severus had refused to continue giving Harry Occlumency training I felt anger and disappointment such as I have not experienced in many years. But now I see the full extent of my own complicity in Snape's actions.

"I asked Severus to shoulder a burden beyond his ability to carry. The fault is mine."

"Why did you ask Professor Snape to train Harry?" Tonks asks. "I understand why you felt you could not do it yourself, but is he really so good that you felt he was the only substitute?"

"Oh, he is a fine Occlumens indeed! Very few could play the Dark Lord for a fool and survive as Severus has."

But there were other reasons.

//Face it. You were thinking a few days ago that Minerva does not have the strength to look human evil full on. Could not the same be said of you?//

"However," I continue, driven by a sudden impulse to defend my decision, "there was more to it. You see, like I've told Harry, old men become arrogant in our experience, and we sometimes forget very important truths. One truth that I forgot is that some wounds cannot be healed by time, and some cannot be healed at all. For these last five years I have treasured the belief that given time and patience Severus could overcome his feelings with regard to James Potter."

Remus snorts and gives me a look of disbelief. I smile at him sadly. "Naive, Remus, I now admit. But nevertheless I really did believe that Severus could put aside the past with James and teach Harry to close his mind. As I have said before, the mistake of an old man who forgot that some wounds do not heal."

We sit silently for many minutes, each lost in thought. Finally, I decide that the quiet has grown unhealthy and turn to Tonks. "Nymphadora," I smile at her trying to convey fondness and comfort, "Perhaps you can tell us what Harry is doing with Auror training manuals?" I gesture at the pile of books on the table.

She blushes brightly but meets my eye straight on. "He asked me to help him in his Defense studies. He seemed to already know a lot of things in my old Sixth and Seventh year textbooks, so I lent him the manuals. Besides, given who's after him, it can't hurt."

"You have been helping him learn what is in these books?" I ask.

"Yes. Moody and Kingsley have said they will help as well. But I think it's best if I take the lead."

"Why so?" I broaden my smile, feeling my fondness for the young Auror grow.

She maintains eye contact as she speaks slowly. "Sir, please do not take what I am about to say as a criticism, of either of you," she shoots a glance at Remus, "but it seems to me that Harry felt abandoned this past year. I think that's partly why he acted like he did - with his temper and all."

I nod. I have come to the same painful conclusion. Remus indicates agreement as well.

"Well, if he's going to get over that he needs to learn to trust us again. Not that he needs to be coddled, necessarily, but he does need a lot of attention. Well, Kingsley has too many high-level assignments at the Ministry to provide that and Moody," she visibly braces herself, "Moody's kind of attention may not be what he needs just now."

I nod slowly, impressed by Tonks' wisdom. Remus is looking at her with an expression akin to wonder on his face. "Very good Nymphadora," I say gently, "I think you are quite right. We will need to discuss this when we decide how to arrange the rest of Harry's summer."

"Are you going to tell him he can leave the Dursley's Monday evening?" Tonks asks hopefully. "That would probably perk him up!"

I consider it, then reluctantly shake my head. "Better not, right now. With so many uncertain things in motion, a crisis might yet arise to disrupt our plans. I don't think we want to raise his hopes then have to disappoint him."

"What about the grand opening of the Weasleys' joke shop? Will you let him go to that?" Remus' voice is calm and for once today does not have a note of accusation.

"I wish I could," I say earnestly. "It would do him a world of good to have fun with his friends. But you know as well as I do Remus that that event is almost an open invitation for a deatheater raid. By now Voldemort is well aware that two of the young people who foiled him are members of the Weasley family. The twins might as well be sticking their fingers in Voldemort's eye."

"Then are you going to advise them to cancel it?" Tonks asks.

"Yes," I sigh, "but they won't listen. I'm sure Molly Weasley has howled herself hoarse by now to no avail."

We fall silent again. Tonks and Remus accept lemon drops, and we sit enjoying our candy once again lost in thought.

With a sudden roar and a flash of green, Arabella returns, draped in bags. A small feline herd immediately gathers, evidently used to the strange comings and goings through that hearth. But Mrs. Figg is not alone. Emerging from the fireplace behind her is none other than the redoubtable Madam Pomfrey.

"I thought about it and decided to go up to Hogwarts and fetch Poppy," Arabella explains as Remus and I take her bags over her protests. "I think we will all rest better if she looks over Harry."

"I think you are right Arabella," I reply. "Thank you for coming Poppy."

"Not at all Albus, not at all," Poppy says briskly. "It's a welcome break from stocking shelves. Now, where is the young man?" She nods to Remus and Nymphadora, but says nothing. Although Poppy is not per se a member of the Order, I trust her discretion totally.

Arabella shows her downstairs, with the Remus and I following carrying bags and Tonks bringing up the rear. We find Harry stretched out on the couch, one hand flung across his eyes. Several cats sit arrayed sphynxlike on the floor as if standing guard. I am reminded of a cursed tomb I once entered, with guardian statues around an embalmed prince. I thrust the thought away angrily.

Poppy waits until Remus and I have placed our burdens down in the kitchen, then the three of us approach Harry together. The cats look at us gravely but do not move as we come near. I look at Harry's sleeping figure and feel my heart contract painfully.

Oh my treasure, there is nothing I would not give to be able to shield you from this pain.

"Why is he on the couch and not in bed?" Madam Pomfrey asks, in a tone that is slightly irritated.

Beside me Remus sighs. I understand how he feels. How typical of Harry. Three bedrooms at his disposal and he is sleeping on a lumpy sofa. Lupin kneels at Harry's side and gently shakes him. Harry comes awake with a soft groan.

"Hello, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey says with a professional smile, "I had not thought to be seeing you again so soon."

"Me either, Madame Pomfrey," he answers politely, scratching his head sleepily.

"Well, we had best get straight to it. I'm sure Arabella would not mind if we made use of one of her bedrooms. After you, Mr. Potter." Harry gets up slowly and shambles toward one of the open bedroom doors, followed by the healer. Remus makes to follow, but I put out a hand to delay him.

"Remus, while Madame Pomfrey is examining Harry I am going to pay a visit to the Dursleys. I'll leave you to manage things here."

He makes to protest but I am already turned away and moving toward the door. Right now I think it is best if Vernon Dursley and Remus Lupin are kept as far apart as possible.

Reaching the door I cast an invisibility charm on myself and leave Arabella's house. I could transfigure my robes to muggle clothes, but I think for this visit my current appearance will serve to prove a point. As I reach #4 Privet Drive, I further charm myself to silence any noise I might make as I move around the house and slip in through the back door.

The kitchen is empty, but the sound of Vernon Dursley's voice comes clearly from the living room. He is in a fine temper, and evidently is holding forth to his wife and son.

"THESE FREAKS HAVE NO RESPECT! FIRST THE BOY SAYS THAT CRAZY HEADMASTER OF HIS DEMANDS - DEMANDS MIND YOU - THAT I TAKE THE AFTERNOON OFF TO MEET HIM OVER SOME TRIVIAL NONSENSE, THEN HE KEEPS ME WAITING! I SHOULD HAVE GIVEN THE BOY A PIECE OF MY MIND! I TELL YOU THAT HEADMASTER OR WHOEVER HE IS WILL GET ONE WHEN HE GETS HERE! I'M AN IMPORTANT MAN! JUST WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS?"

I hear another voice, much softer, saying something I can't discern. Petunia.

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU PETUNIA? YOU'VE BEEN PECULIAR ALL SUMMER! DON'T TELL ME YOU'RE FRIGHTENED OF A SCHOOLTEACHER!"

I slip out of the kitchen into the hall. To my right is the entrance to the living room. To my left I see the door to the closet where Harry spent ten years of his life.

"I'M GOING TO GO DOWN TO MRS. FIGG'S HOUSE AND GIVE THAT BOY THE HIDING OF HIS LIFE!" Vernon Dursley is pacing up and down like a fat bull - although I don't think bulls ever go purple in the face. Petunia is seated on the couch, looking thin and worried. Their great lout of a son is leaning against the mantlepiece with a sullen expression on his pig-like features.

I cancel my cloaking spells and step into the room, willing myself to smile. "I really don't think that would be an advisable course of action, Mr. Dursley."

Vernon stops his pacing and stares at me, his eyes bulging comically. Petunia gives a little gasp and goes white. Dudley thrusts out his lower lip and stares at the floor.

"Allow me to introduce myself, I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Would you like a lemon drop?" I extend my hand holding the bag.

Vernon's mouth drops open.

"Hello, Petunia," I say softly, stowing the lemon drops back in my sleeve.

Somewhat to my surprise, she actually manages a reply. "Hello, Headmaster," she mumbles, looking at her feet.

That snaps Vernon out of his trance. "DO YOU MEAN YOU KNOW THIS OLD FREAK?" He glares at his wife in disbelief.

"Oh, Petunia and I have had communication over the years," I say for her, drawing his attention back to me.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WOULDN'T ADVISE IT! WHILE THAT BOY LIVES UNDER MY ROOF I'LL DISCIPLINE HIM AS I PLEASE! AND HE HAS THE WORST HIDING OF HIS LIFE COMING!"

To my own amazement, I almost laugh. Instead, I simply look at him over my spectacles with the expression I use for stubborn and stupid schoolboys.

"Three points, Mr. Dursley. Firstly, I assure you that if you carry through with that intention your family will not enjoy your company past the next full moon. Harry has a werewolf who is rather fond of him."

Vernon's eyes bulge once more while Petunia lets out a little yelp. Dudley looks up wide-eyed.

"Yes, you heard me rightly, a werewolf. Secondly, I would not lay good odds on your even returning from Mrs. Figg's in good health. Harry's friends are always watching you know."

"You can't!" Vernon Dursley blusters, his eyes narrowed, "your kind aren't allowed!"

"Oh, I wouldn't put much faith in that, if I were you. Harry is quite an important person in our world, as my letter explained fifteen years ago. An assault on him would invite severe consequences." I draw my wand from my sleeve to emphasize the point. Petunia goes even whiter.

"And what's your third point?" Vernon's eyes have narrowed so severely that I marvel he can see.

"Thirdly, if I thought you were about to attack Harry I would have to stop you."

Vernon's eyes fly wide at that, and he chuckles. "You are going to stop me old man? I don't care if you are some kind of bigshot freak! It will be a ...."

"VERNON, NO!" Petunia comes to her feet and puts her hand on her husband's arm, her voice quavering with fear.

Dursley looks at his wife in annoyance. "Petunia, what IS wrong with you?"

"I would recommend you listen to your wife, Mr. Dursley. As for you young man," I shoot a glance at Dudley, who has come forward from his place at the mantle, "I would strongly suggest you refrain from interfering in things that do not concern you."

"DON'T YOU DARE THREATEN MY SON!" Vernon is going purple again.

"I have threatened no one, Mr. Dursley, I am merely stating facts." I brush past him and take a seat in an armchair that I strongly suspect is usually reserved for Vernon's use. "Now, why don't we discuss Harry."

"Yes, why don't we?" Vernon hisses. "How DARE you tell me how to run my household! I have been kind enough to give that worthless boy shelter for fifteen years. The least he could do is earn his keep!" Dudley laughs wickedly.

"Harry has many stressful responsibilities." I reply. "To meet them he must train and study rigorously, and maintain himself in good health. As his Headmaster, it is my duty to see that his needs are met, if possible."

"I won't have that boy laying around all day!"

"He is hardly laying around, Mr. Dursley. It is my impression that he has been studying quite intensely."

"Worthless claptrap! I never should have allowed him to attend that ridiculous freak academy!"

"You had no choice then Mr. Dursley, and you have no choice now," I say softly.

"Vernon, maybe we should listen to him." Petunia's tone is apologetic and fearful. "We might not like it, but he is the boy's Headmaster, and he understands things we don't."

"PETUNIA!" Dursley is clearly shocked. "All this stupidity about somebody coming back from the dead has gotten to you. Buck up woman!"

"Voldemort was never what one could call dead, Mr. Dursley, although I will grant you that even most wizards considered him so. And I do assure you, he has returned." I am not smiling now, and my voice is ice cold. "His feud with your wife's family is an old one. He will not rest until it is complete."

Dursley looks at me with murder in his eyes. I raise my wand but do not point it at him. He clenches and unclenches his fists, while Petunia looks ready to drop dead of fright at any moment and Dudley stands stolidly looking hostile and stupid.

"Your kind have brought us nothing but trouble! Your kind brought those, THINGS, down on my Dudley last year."

"That's right!" Dudley speaks for the first time, his voice as loathsome as I expected, "I had to beat'em off Potty!"

"You did?" I inquire mildly. "That is interesting, as you would not even have been able to see them."

"ARE YOU CALLING MY SON A LIAR?" Dursley flings spittle in every direction as he roars.

"Why yes, Mr. Dursley, I am."

"GET OUT!" Dursley takes a threatening step towards me, but comes to a dead stop as a raise my wand slightly.

"I don't think that you want to pursue the line of action you are contemplating, Mr. Dursley." I say coldly. Then I smile. "Still perhaps I should give your son the benefit of the doubt."

Dursley just stands still, breathing in and out like a bellows. Dudley begins to smirk. Petunia, on the other hand, slinks to the side wringing her hands.

"No dementy-thingy is going to get past me!" Dudley proclaims, raising his fists in a boxing posture.

"Then this will provide you with little trouble," I say mildly, pointing my wand at the space in front of him. "Aegrimonia," I whisper.

Dudley screams and throws himself backward as the figure of a dementor appears before him. Crossing his arms over his head, he cowers in a tight ball, whimpering.

"Odd," I say mildly, "I thought you had defeated dementors before."

Vernon Dursley lets out an animal roar and dives for me. I flick my wand over to him and bark "Pulso!" His roar changes to a frightened yelp as he is thrown back, knocking tumbling over the couch and lying flat on his back, gasping like a beached blowfish.

"Stop it!" Petunia screeches, wringing her hands so hard it is a wonder she doesn't sprain her wrists. "Take that thing away! We will do what you say! Nobody is going to touch the boy, he'll be fine!"

I meet Petunia's frightened eyes, and feel a twinge of dismay. I had known when I left Harry with her that he would suffer at her hands. Even I was not so silly as to think she could love him. But I believed, foolishly, that she could rise above her past with Lily and James and reach some kind of livable accomodation with regard to her nephew. I had thought that, although Harry's life with her would be difficult, it need not be a horror story. Now I know that was yet another example of an old man's arrogance.

"Very well, Petunia," I dismiss the illusion of the dementor with a casual wave, "I think we understand one another on this matter."

But Vernon is not yet finished. Hauling his bulk up off the floor, he staggers against the couch and growls "We most certainly do not understand one another, freak! Get out! Get out and take that boy with you! I want him out of my house!"

"VERNON, NO!" Petunia rounds on him swiftly, like a sparrow attacking a barn owl. "The boy stays!"

Dursley looks as if the wind has been knocked out of him yet again. "But, Petunia..."

"NO, VERNON! The boy will stay and he will follow the schedule Professor Dumbledore set for him!"

"But, Mummy..." Dudley begins to whine.

"Be quiet, Dudley!" Petunia snaps, causing her son to look like he's been slapped.

"Do we have an understanding, Mr. Dursley?" I ask mildly as Vernon slumps down on the couch, his mouth hanging open in shock. He looks at me blankly, then nods.

"Very well. Harry will be returning this evening. And please remember, Mr. Dursley, that if I or any other member of our world have to come here again, we will not content ourselves with shadow shows."

"We understand," Petunia replies for her husband. "Now please just go!"

I rise and depart, leaving Petunia to care for her stricken family. Reweaving my concealment charms, I slip out the back door once again and walk back to Arabella's.

I arrive to find Poppy and Remus waiting in the living room. Remus starts a bit as I drop my charms, then motions for me to join them. "I told Harry to go ahead and have his lunch. I thought he could probably use it."

"Good thinking. What did you find, Poppy?"

The healer purses her lips in a habitual gesture, but the extra furrows in her brow tell me she is genuinely worried. "Nothing much, Albus. I gave him some healing potions to prevent bruising and help with soreness, and had him take a couple of broad anti-disease and anti-poison draughts. I couldn't find anything unusual, but I can't perform broad-spectrum tests here. He needs to come and stay at Hogwarts. Better yet, he needs to go to St. Mungo's."

I frown and shake my head. "I'm sorry Poppy, but unless there is a specific reason I just can't have him leave the Dursley's right now." We are already cutting the time to the bone. If Harry leaves before Monday evening, the protections will surely collapse, and I won't be able to re-establish them - not this long after his mother's original sacrifice.

"Albus, I know you must have your reasons, but I just don't feel comfortable leaving him there."

"My reasons are very good ones, Poppy. You know I would not insist otherwise."

She sighs. "I'm sorry, Albus, but I just don't see how he can stay there. If nothing else the anti-disease and anti-poison draughts will likely make him feverish and nauseated, even if he doesn't have a severe reaction to them. He really needs someone to look after him, and from what you tell me those muggles he lives with aren't the ones to do it."

Remus is watching me with a worried expression. What a fine mess this is! Either I endanger Harry's health or I let the protections collapse, meaning all the pain he has been through at the Dursley's will have been for nothing.

"I will stay with, Harry," Remus says quietly. He looks at me intently.

"I'm sorry, Remus, we need you coordinating things on the outside." I rub my hand across my forehead, thinking rapidly.

"Let someone else do that! Harry needs somebody in the house with him!"

"There isn't anybody we can spare, Remus. You know we are desperately short handed even as it is!" If there was somebody else we could trust, that would be a different story. But we only dare entrust Harry to members of the Order. Or do we? "I have an idea!"

"What?" Remus asks.

"Let me check a few things first. I think I know a way around our problem."

"If you think so," Poppy says doubtfully.

"Poppy, I need to give Harry a few practical tests this afternoon. Will he be able to do that?"

"Practical tests?" Poppy says, even more doubtfully.

"Yes, in Occlumency."

"I can't recommend it, Albus. That is a stressful exercise, and I doubt he will be able to undergo much stress."

"Poppy," I say gently, "this is VERY important. I don't intend to do much. But I have to evaluate his progress."

"Albus, I just don't think it's proper."

"I must, Poppy. This is for Harry's protection."

"Well," she says reluctantly, "if he lies down immediately after lunch and gets a few hours rest - and if he does not feel too nauseated or feverish when he wakes up. But you have to keep it short and DON'T PUSH."

"I'll be gentle as a lamb, Poppy."

"Very well. I'll leave some healing potions along with some more anti-disease and anti-toxin draughts. Whoever looks after him will have to make sure he takes them for the next few days."

"As you wish."

"In that case," she says, "I have to be getting back to Hogwarts. I have an entire medicine room to stock."

"I will accompany you," I volunteer. "Remus, why don't you stay and have lunch. Make sure that Harry takes his rest. It will do him good to get into the habit of taking naps anyway."

"Why?" Remus asks with a quizzical expression.

"I will explain later. Let's just say that Harry's schedule this year will have to be slightly different."

Leaving a very puzzled werewolf behind, Poppy and I ascend the stairs and floo back to Hogwarts.

I spend the next few hours catching up on paperwork left over from the end of the school year. In the midst of everything else it is sometimes hard to find time to actually do the job that goes with my official title. I also make inquiries with regards to my idea about care for Harry. To my great satisfaction the inquiries meet with resoundingly a resoundingly positive response.

In the early evening I get a firecall from Remus. "Harry is awake, Albus. I don't think he feels very well, but he says that he is well enough for your tests." The werewolf's voice is full of disapproval.

"I'm coming, Remus. It will be fine. We will only keep him a few minutes."

I emerge from Arabella's hearth to find Harry standing awkwardly in front of the couch where Remus and Tonks are sitting. He still looks tired and depressed, and I promise myself that I really will keep this as brief as possible.

"Hello, Harry," I say trying to give a relaxed smile, "are you rested?"

"Yes sir. But could we hurry?" His expression is lifeless and I feel a pang deep in my heart.

"Of course. First, I brought this for you." I reach into a pocket and pull out a small well-worn book, Occlumency: Shield of the Mind. "I think you will find this very helpful. I apologize for not giving it to you last year, but I forgot I had it.

"That's OK." He takes the book and looks at it disinterestedly.

"Are you ready?" I ask, drawing my wand slowly so as not to startle him. It is imperative that I rebuild the fragile bonds of trust between Harry and myself, and given Harry's weakened state I think it best to go softly at the moment.

"OK. Go ahead."

"Legilimens." I focus my probe as a broad wave, washing over his mind. A large black dog leaping with bared teeth, ripping into flesh with sharp pain. Then the image slips away and I find myself pushed back.

"Very good, Harry," I say. He just nods. I note that sweat is trickling down from his temple.

"Legilimens." This time I narrow my attack, thrusting deep as with the point of a spear. A pink office. Pain throbbing in my hand as blood drips. Red lettering scrawled on parchment. I am hurled back forcefully.

I blink and look at Harry. He is panting and sweating more heavily. "Good, Harry. One more time."

He gives a barely perceptible nod.

"Legilimens." My strongest attack, hurled as a battering ram. It shatters the surface of his mind and the memories well up. Sirius falling, falling into a veil. I am hurled back. I press forward again. Sirius falling. I am forced back fiercely.

"NO!" Harry reels back, stumbling. Remus leaps to his feet, catching Harry in his arms.

"I'm sorry, Harry," I say softly. "Are you all right?"

He does not answer right away. I watch him with a deep sense of frustration. His memories of Sirius are there, encysted away with all the tears he refuses to shed. I want to attack again, to lance my power into his mind like a needle and tear those boils open, allowing his pain and tears to flow free. But I do not dare. I need him to trust me, and he never would again if I did such a thing.

Besides, the pain over Sirius is not the only pain he carries walled away. From my brief probings I sensed the nodules of sorrow, spread through his soul like cancer. That is the greatest failure of my abominable arrogance. I had so casually assumed that any wounds he received at the hands of the Dursleys could be fixed, that any wounds he bore could be healed. But once again, or perhaps for the first time, I forgot that some wounds cannot be mended.

"I'm OK," Harry says finally as Remus maneuvers him onto the couch.

No you are not. If there is anything you are, OK is not it.

I sit in a nearby chair and wait silently. Harry rests his head in his hands and breathes deeply. We wait for long minutes.

Remus lets one hand rest lightly one Harry's back, rubbing gently. Tonks looks on frowning. The silence grows long.

Remus begins to speak a couple of times, but closes his mouth without saying anything. On the third try, he croaks, "Why don't you trust us, Harry?"

"What do you mean?" Harry says, not raising his head from his hands.

"Why didn't you tell us about this?" Remus gently takes Harry's right hand and strokes his fingers lightly over the scars left from Umbridge's "lines."

"And what could you have done?" Harry says bitterly. He is very pointedly not looking at me, for which I am extremely thankful.

"I don't know, Harry. But you should have told us."

"It was between me and her," Harry says flatly, pulling his hand away from Remus. Lupin looks on helplessly.

Suddenly Tonks slides off the couch to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of Harry. Gently taking his hand in hers, she begins to caress the scarred flesh slowly. "Harry, if you want to be an Auror, you need to understand that you aren't alone. Aurors are NEVER alone. We have to rely on each other. We have to share our pain and our dangers. It is the only way we can survive."

He looks up at her with an expression akin to wonder. "How can you stand it?"

"It isn't always easy," she says softly, "but it is the only way to survive. The only way to win."

He looks at her silently, but I can see his is trying to digest what she has said. Finally Tonks grins. "Now, why don't we show Professor Dumbledore some of the things you have been practicing!"

He smiles. It is a very small smile, but it is the first sign of happiness I have seen in him since before Sirius fell. Bless you, Nymphadora.

"Show Professor Dumbledore your Sniffer!" Tonks grins and releases Harry's hand as she hauls herself back onto the couch.

A sniffer charm is used by Aurors to detect dark magic. It is not extremely powerful, but requires sophisticated control in building the spell. Harry stands again and draws his wand. Facing me he moves his wand in a vertical arc toward the floor, saying "Repero."

A greenish glow comes from the end of his wand, forming itself into a vaguely canine shape. It seems to sniff the air, then trots toward me as the most powerful source of magic in the room. As it nears me it begins to grow red.

On a whim I utter a diverting charm. The sniffer pauses confused. Then, to my amazement, it seems to shake its head and refocus on me. I clap my hands in appreciation. "Very impressive, Harry!" My Harry is so magnificent!

"Thank you, sir," he says blushing. "I thought it would be better if I put an anti-obscuration charm into the spell."

"He thought it would be better!" Tonks exclaims with almost maternal pride. "There are Aurors in third year training that can't do as well."

Harry smiles again, a broader smile this time. I make sure to give him a look of beaming approval. However, a sudden thought erupts in my mind.

"You have been doing magic outside of school?" I raise my eyebrow.

Tonks blushes. "Well, when Harry asked me about the books, I thought it would be a good idea if Kingsley and I went to talk with the people in the Improper Use of Magic Office."

"You talked with Hopkirk?" That would have been an interesting conversation.

"Oh no. With her assistants and deputies and such. We pointed out all the confusion at the Ministry and what was being said in the papers, and reminded them of what a mess it was last year when they charged Harry."

"And?" Tonks is showing a positive genius for intrigue, something I will have to remember.

"Well, we got them to see that bringing Harry up on charges again this summer would probably not be a wise career move, all things considered."

She blushes even deeper.

Yes, that would have been an interesting conversation. I give Nymphadora a reproving look (but not too reproving), and explain the arrangement I have made with that office - or rather that I have persuaded Percy to make.

Suddenly Harry closes his eyes and seems to wobble. Remus quickly guides him back to the couch again.

"I think Harry should probably go back home now, Albus." Lupin says.

"So do I," I say softly. "Harry, you are likely to be running a fever for a while. You might be nauseated as well."

"Madam Pomfrey told me," he groans, obviously getting worse rapidly.

"I have made arrangements for someone to stay and look after you." I clap my hands sharply. There is an answering crack from the vicinity of the couch, making all three occupants jump.

Harry manages a weak grin as a brightly clad house elf bounds up to him and hugs him around the knees. "Harry Potter sir, Dobby is so glad to see you!"

"Hello, Dobby," he says softly, "are you going to be staying with me?"

"Yes sir! Master Dumbledore asked Dobby if Dobby would stay and take care of Harry Potter sir, and Dobby said yes before any other elf could be getting the job! Dobby is honored to take care of Harry Potter!"

Remus is grinning and Tonks also has a bemused expression. Harry looks up at me. "Are you sure the Dursley's will allow this?"

"I don't think there will be any problem. Do you have Harry's medicines, Dobby?"

"Yes sir! Dobby has Harry Potter's medicines right here!" Dobby hoists a large bag.

"Very well then. Let's be going. Why don't you meet us there, Dobby?" We take our leave of Remus. Tonks and walks beside Harry, while I cloak myself in my charms. We arrive at the back door of #4 Privet Drive to find Dobby waiting for us in the kitchen.

"Good night, Harry. Dobby, remember what I have told you."

"Dobby will, Master Albus."

Tonks and I back away from the house. The young Auror seems somewhat concerned. "Are you sure this is going to be OK, Professor?"

Just then we hear Dudley's loutish voice bellowing "Where have you been Potty? You have some nerve sending that freak Headmaster of yours around here!"

"YOU WILL NOT HARM HARRY POTTER!"

Whump.

"MUMMY!"

"Yes, Nymphadora, I think things are going to be fine."