Harry Potter and the Dance of the Warrior

Chapter Eight: Letter from the dead

Harry woke with a start. He was drenched in cold sweat, tears streaming down his face. The images of last night's dreams were still with him. He remembered them--mornings were always worse when he remembered them. He watched Cedric die again, then Sirius falling through the archway. He saw Ginny lying near death in the Chamber of Secrets. He saw Ron unconscious on the huge chess board. Hermione barely alive, seriously, perhaps fatally wounded at the ministry. Then there were images that weren't memories. There was Mrs. Weasley kneeling; crying over the obviously dead forms of her husband and children. He saw Ginny lying facedown in a pool of blood, her fiery red hair matted and lank. He saw everyone he knew, everyone he cared about, dead. Blood everywhere, so much blood. With him, the famous Harry Potter, the only survivor in the midst of all that death. The feeling of it being a premonition rather than his imagination took his breath away and made him want to scream in rage and anguish.

He forcibly wiped the tears from his face with the back of his hand. He sat up, leaning on the headboard and began to do what he'd done for the past several weeks after every nightmare. Harry began an unusual type of scan. He was scanning his unconscious defenses. Part of his preparation for his defense was to imagine a high strong wall enveloping his mind. He chose the walls to be made of the same stuff that Hogwarts was made out of--centuries-old and weather-smoothed stone and what it represented, safety. He charged the wall with his own magic making it secure, or so he hoped. He let his thoughts wander the inside of the wall, searching high and low looking for damage. Harry searched for any evidence of these dreams coming from outside influences rather than from within. After several minutes he concluded his search. This wasn't Voldemort's doing; these dreams came from his own mind. Perhaps this was his punishment, punishment for his many mistakes and his own weaknesses.

He squeezed the bridge of his nose, as if this would banish the images and thoughts still flashing through his mind. Harry gave himself a little shake, and then reached for his glasses on the bedside table. He noticed now that the sun had yet to make its daily appearance. He reached for his watch and saw he had been asleep for less than three hours. He rose from bed gingerly, not knowing how much his training had taken out of him. He was surprised that his muscles only felt just slightly weary. The unguent had worked yet again. He stretched his body a little bit before grabbing his dressing gown and heading to the kitchen for a spot of tea.

He returned to his room after ten minutes or so. Breakfast really had no allure this early in the morning. He walked over to the desk chair and settled himself in it. Part of the training he was doing entailed a certain amount of daily meditation to allow his mind and new memories to become more easily acquainted. He recalled much of the memories he received last night whilst doing his evening Forms. He was fairly disappointed to find that he studied a topic that, while interesting, was completely useless in a duel. Apparently conjuring ordinary plants and flowers was fairly simple, though transfiguring the same was extremely difficult and it seemed the Order of the Light did little work in this field. It did make sense. If you were outside there tended to be rocks or pebbles, so why try to do a much more difficult spell? Also, the need to conjure certain rarer plants wasn't really useful. He would have to see about getting some advanced Transfiguration texts and looking into it on his own.

He sat in his meditation for nearly three quarters of an hour. He rose, thinking about all the knowledge he could easily access. He drew his wand to test his new knowledge.

"Rosaleous"

A bunch of roses appeared from the end of his wand. He was attempting to get them the same color as Ginny's hair. It didn't quite work out that way. These roses, while perfect in beauty and smell were a deep blood red. It took several more attempts before he achieved the desired shade. His desk was now covered with roses of different reddish hues and one bunch that came out a violent shade of yellow. He chuckled to himself and decided to leave them. They smelled wonderful. The room still had a bit of a musty smell and they would help with that. They would last less than twenty-four hours; maybe he would try a different flower tomorrow morning.

The sun was just making itself known as he called down the stairs for his pair of snowy owls. They came swooping into the room a moment later and both landed lightly on the desk, as Falcore was taking up most of the small owl perch. He walked over to Snuffles and attached the order he wrote last night for him to take to the apothecary. After tying it, he held out his arm, and Snuffles hopped up.

Hedwig thought she would join her snowy friend and made to hop up on Harry's arm. "Sorry, Hedwig, I'm going to need you for a special delivery a little later on," he said.

Hedwig puffed up her little chest when she heard the inflection on the word special, and gave him a soft hoot.

Harry laughed silently as he thought to himself how easy it was for him to understand Hedwig these days. He knew that if he didn't make it sound that she was going on the more important delivery later on she would be would be annoyed with him for one reason or another. 'Owl pride.' He chuckled out loud this time.

He walked with Snuffles to the window and gave him a little boost into the air.

Before he leapt down into the trunk he aimed a simple locking charm on the door and returned to his training grounds. Flicking his wand, the table and one chair appeared in their customary place. He thought about going before the tribunal before starting the ritual--he had many questions that needed answers. It seemed that every day there were more questions, but he wanted some time to arrange his thoughts properly first.

Harry emerged from the trunk several hours later breathing hard and sweating, but invigorated. Today's Forms went better than last night's. He was still awkward and hadn't completed a full set, but it was better. He reckoned he made it three quarters of the way through on his last attempt. That was when he decided to quit for the morning. It would take years for his body, his mind, and his magic to work in total unison, but he was happy with his progress so far. He took a long shower. The hot water felt wonderful on his body. He thought about his new knowledge for a bit. Much of it was a still a mystery, but he remembered a spell or two that he would have to train with. He made a mental note to add a few things to the shopping list he had started the night before.

Harry couldn't begin to train using a sword or blades till he completed a full set of tranced Forms. The forms were the basis of all the fighting he would study; though he wouldn't be in a trance state the motions were similar.

After he dressed he felt famished. He went down to the kitchen deep in thought about magic of one sort or another. Even after his disturbing dreams the physical exertion improved his mental state. He entered the kitchen and again checked at the door. There were ten witches and wizards sitting around the large table, several conversations going on at once. It quieted when they realized Harry had walked in.

"Morning, everyone." Harry looked to Dumbledore and said, with a slight smile, "Maybe we should think of putting up a sign, Harry, there's a meeting going on!"

Dumbledore smiled slightly in return. "No matter, Harry, we were just about done. I see you slept better today."

"Been working since dawn, sir."

Dumbledore kept his gaze steady, and, frowning slightly, said, "If you would just give us a moment, there are several things you should know."

One eyebrow rose in curiosity as he looked around the table. "Hello, Mr. Ollivander, good to see you," he said politely. He wasn't really surprised to see Ollivander there; Harry knew that he and Dumbledore were old friends.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," Mr. Ollivander said in a soft voice. "Good to see you as well. Albus has told me that a Phoenix has joined with you a short time ago."

"Uh, yeah, his name is Falcore." Harry wondered why this was a topic of conversation.

Ollivander nodded, the pale eyes never leaving his, and said, "We will have to make arrangements in the future to harvest some of his feathers."

Harry didn't speak for a moment. He stared hard at Ollivander before saying, "I will consider it."

Mr. Ollivander was obviously surprised at Harry's less than enthusiastic reply when Dumbledore spoke. "Harry, it is a common practice. As you well know, Fawkes donated two."

Harry responded quietly. "Yes, I know that very well, Headmaster. It is a great responsibility though, as you also well know. How much damage has the first one done up to now and the second has already done enough."

Everyone at the table was watching this conversation, not really understanding why this was such an issue to Harry. Meanwhile Harry and Dumbledore's eyes never broke their gaze, as if each was trying to read the other's mind.

Bill Weasley spoke up. "Who has the first?"

Harry broke the gaze then. Looking at Bill, he said, "Voldemort."

Harry was annoyed to see more then half the Order members flinch at the name. He was glad that Bill hadn't, though.

Bill was looking hard at Harry now. "And the second?"

Harry returned the look and said quietly, "Me."

Bill's eyebrows rose. He seemed to be thinking hard about this. Giving Harry a slight nod, then looked away.

While everyone was finishing the meeting, Harry busied himself with fixing his breakfast. By the time he sat down with his plate in front of him with today's Prophet to one side, most of the members had left. Remaining were Dumbledore, Moody, Tonks, Bill, and (to his great displeasure) Snape.

Harry had only taken a few bites when Dumbledore said, "I received a message from Mrs. Figg last evening.

Harry looked up and gave him a questioning look. "It seems that your family has left Private Drive, quite quickly I might add. They left no forwarding address and said nothing about it to the neighbors."

Harry had snorted when Dumbledore called them his family, and then said with an evil grin, "Cowards. I told Vernon that I led Bellatrix to believe he had had second thoughts and had tipped me off as to the trap."

Moody laughed, slapping his hand on the table. Tonks and Bill looked like they were having trouble trying to keep a straight face. He was ignoring whatever Snape was doing, but Dumbledore was giving him a supremely disapproving look. Harry ignored the look and continued to eat.

After a moment Dumbledore spoke again. "Also, Madame Pomfrey was questioned as to your whereabouts."

Harry looked up again, all traces of smile gone now; they all heard the anxiety in his voice. "Damn. . . I knew I shouldn't have gone to St. Mungo's. Is she all right?"

"Yes, Harry, she is fine. She was questioned by a superior at the hospital, but it was done very casually, almost as if it was simply curiosity--though after a time he became rather insistent. Poppy thought it very odd. Although this wizard is a superior, he has nothing to do with the section of the hospital in which she works."

Harry nodded. "Well I gave her no info which she could let slip. . . I didn't want to put her in any sort of danger though. . ." He looked over at Tonks.

She said without hesitation, "Kingsley already has the Aurors keeping an eye on him, don't worry, Harry."

She gave him a reassuring smile and he nodded in reply.

Before Harry was able to take another bite, Snape's cold voice said, "You don't seem much surprised that someone was inquiring as to your location, Potter."

He looked at him for the first time today and replied in a level voice, "Isn't it obvious they want me more now than they did a few days ago?"

Bill frowned slightly and asked, "Why would you say they want you more now?"

"Look in the papers," he said, tapping the copy underneath his hand. "Every witch or wizard who speaks out against the dark is using my name as a rallying point."

He looked down at the paper and read a line from the article he was reading. "Potter has shown us that He Who Must Not Be Named and his followers can be fought, and can be conquered! Voldemort wants to eliminate all hope, some people see me as that hope," he finished simply.

He looked over to the adults at the other side of the table; each was looking at him in their own way. Dumbledore gave him a soft nod of approval, Tonks was giving him a proud smile, and Bill a thoughtful one. Only Snape had a look of disgust, a look that said quite clearly, 'Potter is showing off again.'

Again he was about to take a bite when the cold voice spoke again, "You do think a lot of yourself Potter, a great hope, rallying point, like some great leader. Ha!"

Harry saw Tonks glaring at Snape and Moody was looking at him in disgust. Bill looked to be struggling with the Weasley temper--Harry saw his wand hand twitch once as if to just go for it. Dumbledore looked nonplussed though, as if he were waiting to see what Harry did before he responded.

Harry spoke first, cutting off the tirade he felt Bill was building up to. To Harry this was the least of the things his Potions Master had said to him in the past. "I can not help what people think. If you expect me to hide from the filth which were your former cohorts forever, you are quite mad."

Snape was looking angrier by the second.

"Speaking of your former brethren, what about our great spy? Shouldn't you have known about the attack or the fact that the search is on again?" Harry said coldly. "Or did you hope to get me out of the way?"

Snape was sputtering to come out with an answer as Harry glared at him. Dumbledore spoke first though, in a stern voice. "Harry, you cannot expect Professor Snape to find out all of Voldemort's plans. He does a most difficult and dangerous job for us."

Harry's glare returned to the Headmaster. "I assure you I expect next to nothing from the Potions Master, sir, let alone anything helpful."

Snape snapped up as if to attack, his face twisted into a sneer. Bill followed suit, his chair flying back, his wand hand ready to draw, his eyes fixed on Snape. Harry didn't fall for Snape's bait though. Snape was trying to make him overreact, to make the first move. Not this time, though.

'Control. . . Stay in control. . .' he chanted to himself. It would be so easy to let his rage fly; it would be so easy for him to attack right now.

Harry looked up at Snape with a sneer of his own. "Can I help you with something, Potions Master?" The more Harry used that title the more scathing it came out. Like it was a great insult--and in his mind, it was.

'Professor is a term of respect,' he thought. 'Learned next to nothing from him.'

Snape grumbled something and stormed from the room. 'Him leaving the room like that was almost as good as cursing him.' But then he thought about it and reconsidered. 'No, not even close!'

Harry heard the front door open and some words he couldn't make out. In a moment Professor McGonagall entered.

Everyone gave her a tense, "'Morning."

Harry looked over to Dumbledore as he started saying, "Harry, you and Professor Snape must. . ."

Harry put his head down to the newspaper and pointedly ignored him. Next his Head of House began sputtering to him about respect or lack thereof. When he looked up again he saw her as well as Dumbledore glaring at him, but the funny thing was the rest of the Order members weren't. Actually they were all staring incredulously at Dumbledore.

"If you choose to speak to Snape, and if you already have, when he responds to what you said to him, then I will be willing to listen to you on this topic. Until that time I will not cower like a child, I'm not the same first year he tormented years ago. I've already forced myself to take too many years of abuse at his hands," he paused staring hard at his headmaster, "so to speak."

From the corner of his eye he saw Bill, Tonks, and Moody all looking at him with approval. Harry was rather proud of himself at that moment, too. He had made his point without loosing his temper and saying something incredibly stupid, for a change.

Before Dumbledore could continue, several owls flew in from the kitchen fireplace. In the lead was his own, Snuffles.

"Hello there, boy," he said, stroking the feathery white head After untying the leather thong and passing over half a piece of toast he opened the largest of the small sacks that had been delivered. Taking a pinch of the dried flowers out with two fingers and bringing it to his nose for a sniff, he muttered, "Lousy quality for that price."

"Monkshood, Harry? Do you plan on attempting the Wolf's Bane potion next?"

"Yes sir," he muttered.

"A very difficult potion." Dumbledore seemed to be trying to get past the conversation they had been having.

Harry nodded absently. "Trying to find my limits." He cringed inside with his choice of words. Usually that was a term older wizards used for a rather dangerous procedure in which they almost totally drained themselves of magical energies. The result they were looking for was to see how many spells could be cast without rest. The dangerous part being, if they went too far it could kill the witch/wizard. Just one more spell too many could be fatal. He avoided looking at Dumbledore and continued with his mail.

Harry went to the next owl. He saw it was carrying this term's Hogwarts letter. He scanned it briefly before closing it up again.

As he reached for the next letter Professor McGonagall spoke. "Ah, I see you received the O.W.L. results. For some reason they were delayed this year. We didn't even get the results at the school yet."

'Great, talk about pressure. Opening the results in front of Dumbledore and McGonagall, just ruddy perfect,' he thought dispiritedly.

Just as he worked up the nerve to open the heavy parchment envelope another owl swooped in and landed in front of him. It was a beautiful auburn owl, and it seemed to be wearing a woven golden band around its neck.

"That's a Gringott's owl, Harry," Bill said.

Harry, glad for the excuse to put off opening his O.W.L. results, reached for the letter. It was thick. There had to be many pages in it.

The remaining Order members were watching Harry curiously. Especially Bill, since he worked at the Goblin bank; he usually kept an eye on the accounts of the people he knew. They all saw Harry's face pale, and the hand holding the letter began to tremble slightly.

"Harry, are you all right? What's wrong?" This was Tonks, the concern evident in her voice.

He didn't answer for a moment, his eyes fixed on the parchment in front of him. Finally he spoke, in a voice that trembled every so slightly. "It's from Sirius. . ."

Silence met this pronouncement. Harry quickly collected all the post and absently said, as he left the room, "Please excuse me, I have some work to get to. . ."

Harry ran up to his bedroom, locking the door behind him. Tears were forming in his eyes as he opened the letter and continued to read. The letter was several pages long, plus there were several pages from Gringott's about his inheritance. Not that he really cared about his share of the Black fortune. He read the letter quickly as his whole body began to tremble. Sirius telling him how proud he was of him and how sure he was that his parents were also. He spoke of how much he liked Harry's friends and how he might even be a better Quidditch player than his father. The kind words of pride were tearing him apart inside. He didn't know how long he sat there. He vaguely remembered Dumbledore outside the door, but Harry said he was fine and sent him away from behind the locked door.

Feeling the hollow of despair inside him, Harry climbed down into his trunk again. He unpacked all six battle orbs, setting them all for novice. He set them in a semi-circle around him, and then walked over to the pictures on the wall. His gaze fixed on the picture of his parents and Sirius at the wedding, then to pictures of his friends. Images from his dreams began to resurface, but this time it wasn't despair he felt. In only a few moments anger began to take over in place of the emptiness of sorrow. In moments he was shaking now in rage. With a wave of his hand the six orbs initiated and the dueling began. He set the orbs so they wouldn't disappear completely when they were defeated, they would only fade for a few moments and then start attacking again.

Harry didn't care about the pain; actually he was relishing it right now. He was lost in the battle, lost in the rage, the hate. He launched spell after spell, knocking them down again and again. Without thought he launched all the spells he had studied himself and the new ones he received through the memory transfers. Horatio was right, it seemed. He felt more awkward now that he had even a week ago, before starting the Forms. It didn't matter though; he knew he deserved the pain.

This was part of the punishment he earned. 'For all my stupidity,' he thought as he launched 'The Fury of Zeus. For the first time this spell worked properly, as a bolt of fierce yellow lightning hit each of the figures, destroying them all.

Harry fell to his knees panting. That was one the most powerful spell he knew, and took the last of his strength. He swept his left arm out, disengaging the battle orbs before the figures could emerge again. He wasn't sure how long he had been dueling, but he guessed he had been at it for quite some time. As his breathing calmed, the pain of countless welts and bruises filled his mind. Since none of the orbs were set above novice there were no greater injuries. He wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth as he sat back on his heels. After a few moments his breathing calmed a bit. He closed his eyes and tried to block out all the pain. He struggled to get back into his meditative state. It took several long minutes for him to reach a place where he could meditate. When he did, he stayed in that position for a long time. He lived in memories from a distant age; the pain of the now was forgotten for a time.

When he finally climbed out of his trunk, many hours after he had entered, he felt nothing inside. No sadness, no anger, no pain. His face was blank and pale, holding no emotion. He collected several books and tucked the letter into one of them. He walked over to the door, opened it and stepped into the hall. He had taken several steps before he paused. He looked back at the bedroom door in consternation.

'Didn't I put a locking charm on the door?' he thought in some confusion. After several moments he decided that he must have forgotten and continued to the drawing room.

Severus Snape's head appeared in the fire of Albus Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts. The Headmaster was seated behind his desk and Professor McGonagall seated in front. The pair had been in the midst of a heated conversation in which he heard Potter's name mentioned. His stomach clenched in anger. 'Why is it POTTER they're always concerned with?' Snape thought angrily. 'Well this ought to show them what I've always said about the spoiled brat!'

Dumbledore noticed Snape and spoke first. "Yes, Severus? What can I do for you?"

Snape's head turned toward the Headmaster. He noticed McGonagall glaring at him from the corner of his eye. 'Well, she does always side with that filthy little. . .' After a second, he said aloud, "Headmaster, I was at headquarters a short time ago, and I noticed Potter wasn't there."

"What!" McGonagall shrieked.

Dumbledore rose halfway from his chair, "Are you certain? He was locked in his room when I went to check on him earlier today."

"I entered his room myself. I checked the entire house. He was nowhere to be found," he said smugly.

Dumbledore sat back down with a sigh. "I knew he was upset about the letter. I did not, however, think he would do something as foolish as leaving a secure location."

"Yes, you would think after he got Black killed the idiot would have learned something," It almost sounded like glee in Snape's voice.

"Severus," Dumbledore began in a dangerous voice. "You are not to say anything of the like to Harry. I am quite certain you will regret it." He let the unspoken threat hang in the air.

Snape could not help but let the anger show on his face. "As you wish, Headmaster," he said icily. "I'll return to headquarters and see if he turns up."

"No, return to Hogwarts. I have several meetings here that are imperative. I may need your input with one of them."

Snape scowled but said nothing in reply. A second later, with a small pop, his head vanished from the fire.

"Albus," McGonagall started worriedly.

Before she could continue, Dumbledore interrupted. "I know, Minerva. Please contact Molly at the Burrow and see if she has heard from him; also the twins, at the shop, and Bill, at Gringott's. Tell them all to stay put but to keep an eye out. Also contact Kingsley and inform him of the situation. Alastor should be here soon, we will try to finish the meetings as quickly as possible and head out to search for him ourselves."

She nodded once and hurried out to use the fire in her office, "I will return when I've made the calls."

Albus Dumbledore rested his forehead in one hand as he sighed. "Ah, Harry. How do I get us back to where we once were?"

At that moment a familiar clunking made its way through the open door. "What's happened with Potter now?"

"Severus just fire-called and said he wasn't at headquarters."

"Bloody hell," he breathed. "Should I go out and look for him?"

"No, Minerva is informing the Weasley's, and I also have her contacting Kingsley to keep his ears open."

Moody grunted in agreement, pulled out his hip flask, and took a long swig.

They stood in silence for several moments before McGonagall reentered the office, "Well, Molly is frantic and furious at him, and the twins are going to keep a lookout. I was told that Bill had to take care of something at another vault and wasn't expected back for the rest of the day. And lastly, Shacklebolt said he was planning on doing paperwork in the office all day, so he will be able to keep a close eye on the magical sensors."

Dumbledore nodded. "Have our first guests arrived yet?'

She nodded, "I saw the first carriage approaching the school. They should be here momentarily."

Close to three hours later Dumbledore was nearly finished with the last meeting. This was a meeting not to do with the ongoing, still mostly secret, war, as the others today had been. No, this meeting was different. He was still regarded as being the foremost wizard in all of Europe, and perhaps the entire world, and meetings like this were a large part of that. His counsel was often sought after when predominate witches and wizards wanted or needed to discuss various magical matters, whether it be help in developing new magic' or in understanding some ancient form. Today's meeting had dealt with the latter, but it would not be finished in one sitting. Dumbledore was near to calling the meeting to an end for the time being when he felt the familiar slight heat emanate from amulet he wore on a fine silver chain around his neck. With a motion that seemed as if he were merely brushing something from the front of his robes, he tapped the amulet twice. This was to signal acknowledgement and that he was not prepared to respond at that time.

Several minutes later his guests had said their farewells and left the room. Once they had left, Minerva McGonagall reentered and took a seat in front of the desk. Moody stood looking out the window.

Minerva spoke. "Albus, I've not heard any word on Harry yet."

He nodded and withdrew the amulet from beneath his robes. It was a shiny black disk, very thin, runes cut in silver rounded it. In the center sat mounted a bright blue stone. He held it on one palm. With the other hand he waved two fingers over the stone while muttering the activation spell.

A second later, inch high bright blue flames appeared above the stone. After another second Bill Weasley's handsome face appeared amid the flames. "Professor Dumbledore!" he said anxiously.

"Bill, how many times must I remind you that you haven't been a student in many years? You may call me by my first name," he teased gently.

At the look on Bill's face, though, the small smile he had disappeared. "Bill, what is it?"

"Professor, I'm at headquarters. . ."

Dumbledore sighed. "Yes Bill, we know Harry isn't there."

"What do you mean? Harry's here. But I think something is wrong with him!" Bill said hurriedly.

Dumbledore held him in a piercing gaze. "Bill, explain to me what you mean, as quickly as possible."

"Well, I finished up at the bank early, so I figured I'd go check on Harry. I saw how upset he was, and I figured I'd try and speak to him and tell him I'd take care of the inheritance papers for him. Well, when I got there I was walking up to his room, but he was in the drawing room. I thought he had fallen asleep in one of the overstuffed chairs. Something was odd though, he was muttering, and his expression..." He paused. "It was like he was in agony. I thought he might be having a nightmare; I went to try and wake him. When I got within a step or two of him, Falcore was at me, squawking and beating at me with his wings. When I backed off a couple of steps he flew back to sit next to Harry and started singing again. I sensed magic, a lot of magic. Some of it was coming from Falcore, but there must have been a hell of a lot from Harry."

"Did you recognize the type of magic?" Dumbledore said quickly. He knew that Bill, being a Curse Breaker, had much knowledge of the feel of different types of magic. It was a prerequisite of staying alive in that job.

"No, I've never felt anything quite like it."

Dumbledore nodded. "Damn. . . I would guess, then, that he is under mental attack from Voldemort," he said quietly.

Moody stepped up, as if ready for a fight. "Is there anything we can do to help him?" he growled.

Dumbledore shook his head. "No. Judging by his altercation with Severus when he first got to Grimmauld place, he has been training for this. All we can do is go there and wait for it to end," he said in a quiet voice. "And hope Harry is strong enough to endure."

His mind began to clear as the ache in his head began to burn. Harry had felt the soreness in his body for only a moment before the searing headache took him. He tried to open his eyes, but the pain held them tightly closed. He felt the sweat covering his body and all his muscles were tightly clenched. His breathing was rapid, and he forced himself to calm it. After a few moments he settled a bit. As he calmed he felt Falcore's presence close by, off to the left. He took a deep breath and again attempted to open his eyes. As he did so, he heard a noise off to the opposite side of room. His mind screamed danger. He threw himself forward, ending in a crouch before the chair in which he had just sat. In one smooth motion his wand flew out to the noise in his right hand. In his left a bright ball of Living Fire bloomed above his palm. He had done all this before he was even able to open his eyes. A second later he did. It took his mind a moment to comprehend the four people opposite him. Each wore a look of surprise on his face.

Harry mumbled an apology as he clasped his hand down on the fire and fell forward onto his knees. His head bent forward as he brought his hands up to clutch at his temples.

It was silent for a moment before Moody growled, "Nice reflexes, Potter, but we've been standing here for a good long time. If we were gonna attack, we'd have had ya."

Harry nodded weakly and muttered, "Constant vigilance, I remember. . ."

Bill and Dumbledore came forward and helped Harry to his feet; the Headmaster asked quietly, "Are you all right, Harry?"

Harry nodded again, though his legs felt as if the wouldn't support him for much longer. Bill seemed to think the same, as he didn't remove his hand from his upper arm.

"Has this happened before this summer?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry nodded. "This is the third time, this was the worst by far, though." He paused to take a deep breath. "He seems much stronger than the last time. . ."

Harry had only one thought, which was to grab a potion from his trunk, and sit in the quiet for a time. At least until the headache cleared enough for him to see straight.

Before he could take a step towards the door though, Dumbledore spoke again, "Was there any indication as to the reason for this attack?"

Harry turned and looked up into the headmaster's eyes as he searched his mind for the answer. It took several minutes before he croaked, "He hoped to surprise me, to break through my mind and take control. If he couldn't achieve that, then he hoped to try to get a look at where I was and who with."

Harry's hand went up to rub his eyes, "I don't think he's back to his full strength yet, he's furious that he can't just stamp out my mind. . ."

There was silence for a moment. Harry felt sick to his stomach. He said hastily, "I. . . I have to go. . ."

He turned away from his Headmaster and pulled away from Bill's grip on his arm. He stumbled shakily from the room. As he walked he felt, more than saw, that he was being trailed by the four.

He vaguely heard Snape's angry hiss from behind him. "Headmaster, this mental attack has nothing to his actions earlier today!"

Harry heard Dumbledore sigh. "Yes, Severus, I know." He paused for a moment as he mounted the steps. "Harry, we need to discuss your leaving Grimmauld Place today."

Harry answered dumbly, the croakiness of his voice a bit worse, "Leave Grimmauld place, sir? Where am I going?" He didn't even pause when speaking, he continued his tottering up the stairs. The thought of his bed, a dark room, and a potion were the only thing he cared about right now.

He thought he vaguely heard Snape sputter as Dumbledore continued in the same calm soothing voice, "No, Harry, we need to discuss where you went today and why. You know full well it is not safe for you to leave here. I would have thought we needn't have this conversation."

Harry's mind was still numb. What the hell was Dumbledore talking about? He hadn't gone anywhere today. All he wanted was to lie down quietly. Why were they bothering him now? As he made it to the top step he answered, "I haven't left here today, jus been working. . ." His voice was beginning to slur with fatigue.

They had all topped the stairs and started down the hall as Harry heard Snape's furious voice, "Do not lie Potter! I know you were not here! Did you think no one would notice all the flowers you conjured? What was it, you couldn't resist going out to see one of your harlots?" he spat. "We all know that safety concerns mean nothing to the famous Harry Potter!"

Harry froze in mid step, the pain receding a bit as his blood began a slow boil. Through clenched teeth he said, "You went into my room?"

Dumbledore groaned inwardly. He should have thought to leave Severus at Hogwarts. This situation was going to soon going to spiral out of control. He thought to speak before the situation escalated but Severus beat him to it.

"Yes, Potter, I was in your room. Did you think that meager Locking Charm would stop any real wizard?" The voice was boring into his brain, every word spoken tore more at his head. The Potions Master wouldn't relent though, he continued in a more hateful voice, "So I know you are a liar, Potter. A stinking filthy liar. Like father, like son, and come to it, like godfather like godson. . . liars all the same. It doesn't matter who you get killed as long as you get your way. You weren't happy enough getting the idiot Black ki...."

He didn't finish that statement, though. As the voice of Morgus, calm and soothing, reminded him of the need of clarity of the mind, Harry's blood boiled over. It was pounding in his ears; his eyes only saw red as he launched himself at his Potions Master. He didn't bother with a wand this time; no, he wanted to use his hands. All he wanted at that time was to get his hands around that stinking, filthy, throat and shut the voice up once and for all.

Dumbledore cringed at Snape's words; he knew the effect they would have. He quickly drew his wand to disarm Harry. Harry, on the other hand never went for his wand but bodily launched himself at Severus. Dumbledore was able to catch him in a Suspension Charm, in mid-air, Harry's finger tips mere inches from Snape's neck.

Severus Snape's eye's widened as the thin, wiry form of Harry Potter flew through the air at him. He had no time to reach for his wand as he attempted a step back. His legs tangled and he fell back hard on the floor. His face twisted between fear and bewilderment. Potter hung in mid-air over him, face contorted with rage and hate.

There was silence for a moment, then Snape's face began to grow into a grin as he saw Dumbledore's wand trained on Harry. The grin quickly fled as he caught sight of a red faced and furious Bill Weasley coming at him with wand drawn.

Moody came up behind Bill to back him up. Harry was furious at Dumbledore; he physically struggled against the spell but couldn't move. He vaguely heard, though his rage, Bill telling Snape to leave or else there would be real trouble. When Dumbledore spoke heatedly to Bill, defending Snape, Harry became more incensed. Drawing all his will and bringing all the magic he could muster to the surface, he forced his head to turn to his Headmaster.

"Release me," Harry hissed.

Dumbledore was shocked that Harry was able to move his head as much as he was able. It was possible to do this, and not too difficult if you knew the counter spell. The spell was old though, not many knew it. Without knowing the counter, the amount of anger and magic that was needed to move were great. He knew if he released Harry now the situation would worsen tenfold.

"I will not release you until you calm yourself," he said sternly.

He continued, "Severus, please return to Hogwarts immediately."

Before Snape could answer Harry said more loudly, "LET ME GO NOW!"

Severus Snape looked up at all the hate-filled eyes facing him; he thought quickly. 'With Dumbledore holding Potter, it leaves me against two. Worse yet, Moody is one of the two; he won't need much of an excuse. Bloody Potter! Why do all these fools always back him!' He decided to make a strategic retreat. He couldn't help but give Potter a cold smile before casually strolling down the stairs.

Again Harry raged, "RELEASE ME!"

After a few moments Dumbledore quietly said to Harry, "I will release you in a moment. You must take care that you do not injure yourself upon landing."

"Just release me!" he spat.

Dumbledore sighed sadly and lifted his wand to break the spell. He fully expected Harry in his rage to fall flat down onto his face. He was surprised yet again as Harry nimbly tucked his shoulder as he rolled into his landing.

Harry snapped up, turning around, his glare fixing on the old wizard. There was a tense moment when the three wizards opposite him felt sure there would be a battle fought in this hallway. After a moment the fatigue of his mental battle was returning in earnest. Saying nothing he strode past the three and entered his room.

He pressed the tips of his fingers to his temples in a vain attempt to ease the ache. He felt his hands tremble as he heard someone enter the room behind him. 'Why won't they give me a moment's peace?' he whined in his own head.

"What?" he asked tersely.

"Harry," Dumbledore's voice held barely controlled anger. "This is totally inexcusable. Attacking Professor Snape, no matter what he said..." He paused as if reconsidering. "You know you were wrong for going out today."

Harry whirled about, seeing the three opposite him flinch back slightly. In a voice of forced calm he said, "I told you already I. . . DID. . . NOT. . . LEAVE. . . HERE!"

"Harry, Professor Snape searched the house. . ."

Harry cut him off. "To hell with Snape, and to HELL with you for believing that piece of filth! And if I feel like leaving here any GODDAMN time I want, there is not a DAMN thing you can say about it! You are not the Headmaster here!" His voice grew louder with every word. "You think you can keep me trapped like you did with Sirius? This is my house now, he left it to me and I'll do what I damn well please."

Dumbledore broke in now. "You are still an underage wizard, you. . ." he said heatedly.

Harry cut him off. "You forget about the exemption. I have no guardian, nor do I need one, legally or otherwise," he growled. "I took care of myself when you dumped me off on Privet Drive leaving me in the false protection of the bond, and I can bloody well take care of myself here."

Harry's words cut Dumbledore. He felt the pain behind his wall of calm. He saw the young man's glare, he knew if it continued this way it would come to blows. He was afraid, afraid of hurting this young wizard that was the hope of everyone. He didn't know what to say to fix this; all he did seemed to make the rift between them wider.

In the moment of silence Moody's growling voice said, "I see you bought yourself a sorcerer's trunk, Potter."

"I see the great Auror decides to chime in. . ." Harry said, without moving his glare from Dumbledore. "No one wondered how my dueling skills have improved so much this summer, or how I've been able to study so much?" he asked acidly.

Dumbledore sighed inwardly. He was wrong yet again. Severus was wrong and he had believed him. "Harry," he began. "I apologize for not believing you, but this situation with Professor Snape, and your temper. . ." He paused, taking a fortifying breath. "Harry, Professor Snape took his own personal time to help you. You know you were wrong and your actions needed his aid. Without his help you might not have survived today."

Harry looked at Dumbledore incredulously, and gave a mocking laugh. "Help? HELP? Any more help from that bastard and my aura would be so damaged I wouldn't be able to put up any damn mental defense!"

Dumbledore looked at Harry warily. 'Even if it's true, how could he know? Who has he been talking to, what has he been studying?' he thought suspiciously. It is impossible for a wizard to see his own aura. He had to be sure. Seeing someone's aura was a very deep scan. Not many witches or wizards were able to see that deeply. He focused now, opening his mind's eye. Deeper and deeper he went. After a moment he began to see the traces of Harry's aura. Just then someone shook his arm. He ignored it, till it became more insistent.

He broke off in annoyance, though nothing but curiosity showed. He looked over to his right and saw Alastor Moody was giving him an anxious look; after a second, Alastor motioned slightly with his head towards Harry.

Albus Dumbledore was startled to see the look of cold fury directed at him from the young wizard. In a voice of trembling anger Harry enunciated every word precisely. "Don't I even deserve common courteously from you?"

Dumbledore was startled yet again. This many times in one day was a very disconcerting thing. Harry was not old enough a wizard to understand the protocol of using the sensing skill on another. Sensing someone directly, as opposed to his normal wide scanning, was a very personal thing. It was common courtesy to ask permission before looking that deeply at someone--but as an old man, an old teacher dealing with a student, he had disregarded it. He supposed the fact that he thought Harry wouldn't know the protocols had something to do with it.

This was, of course, one of the first memories Harry had retrieved for the training of his sensing skills with the Warriors of the Light.

"My apologies, Harry," he said quietly. "Please forgive an old man's lapse. May I see the damage for myself?"

Harry gave him a terse nod.

It only took Dumbledore a few minutes to see the damage Harry spoke of. It was extensive, but not to the point of affecting him yet. The damage would heal itself in time. 'Perhaps Severus is not the teacher I thought him to be,' he thought. Before he broke off the scan he checked Harry's mental defenses. After such a battle they were sure to be weaker, but they did seem adequate for the time being.

He was unsure of how to speak to Harry, how to calm him. He thought to offer special tutoring, to perhaps help develop his defenses even more. There was a time when Harry would have been more than positively ecstatic to simply sit and learn with him. "I see your mental defenses are progressing nicely. If you like, I could help you strengthen them."

"No, thank you," Harry said coldly. "I'm doing well enough on my own."

Harry saw Dumbledore flinch slightly at the tone of his voice. The rage inside him wouldn't let him care. As long as the rage flowed, the ache in his head was bearable.

Dumbledore sighed deeply. "Harry, I know you have been having a hard time of late, but you must learn to control your temper and. . ."

Harry cut him off. "CONTROL MY TEMPER?!?" he raged. "I was just in a fight for MY LIFE, and come to it, all of your lives too." His glare swept the three before continuing in a hateful tone. "YOU being the GREATEST wizard in the world should know what a mental battle like that takes out of a wizard! ANY WIZARD! But do you give me a moment to get my breath? Do you give me a moment to collect my thoughts? No! Your precious piece of FILTH says that I did wrong, and you jump like a goddamn dog to whatever he says!" Harry broke off what he was saying; now the yelling was making his head worse. He walked over to his trunk, picked out the right key and opened the middle lock. He extracted a bottle and took a long swig.

"What are you taking?" Bill asked cautiously, not wanting Harry's anger turned on him.

"Standard headache potion. I needed it badly a few weeks ago. Learning to protect your mind has a tendency to give terrible headaches," he said in a weary voice.

"Mix it up yourself?" Moody asked.

"Who else? Not like I have anyone I can rely on for help."

Moody seemed to be mulling something over before he growled softly, "What did you mean, all our lives?"

"Think about it, Moody. If Voldemort ever broke in without destroying my mind he would have total control. Total control, no fighting it like the Imperious Curse. What do you think Voldemort would do if he was in control of me? Most times the Order members come in one at a time. You think he could resist killing you all, one by one?"

Harry walked over to the desk and sat. He laid his head against the palm of one hand, wishing they would just leave, already. The truth of his statement just added to his aches. His headache, his heartache. . .

Dumbledore seeing Harry's rage ebb a bit towards sorrow decided to try to smooth things over again. "We are simply worried about you, Harry. We all care about you a great. . ."

"Please leave, all of you, please leave."

Harry didn't look back, but felt all the eyes on him. For a long moment silence reigned, till the three left without saying a word. He heard the door close. He sat quietly for a few moments, his heart jumping a bit at a flash of fire. He calmed as Falcore began to sing softly to him. He stayed that way for a long time.

Sometime later, feeling so tired, but fearing to sleep in his weak mental condition, he decided to go to the tribunal. He had questions. Direct questions. He didn't have the time to take every memory ritual in the book. He had ideas and he had suspicions. He wanted answers from the only source he believed would tell him true. On top of that he needed to know how to kill. How to win. Even if they didn't have the answer for that, he needed a push in the right direction.