Dialogues

...With the Headmaster

The Dursley family of Number 4 Privet Drive, Surrey, had always believed themselves to be the most normal family in the world, but when one of your number happens to be a wizard it doesn't exactly ring true. Although Harry Potter only stayed under their roof for a little over a month every year - he attended a school for witches and wizards up north the rest of the time - the Dursleys were still horrified at the possibility of the neighbours finding out the terrible secret of the freak under their care. Needless to say this is why they were far from pleased to see an aged, bespectacled man walk up their driveway early on a Saturday morning looking like he was wearing a Halloween costume four months too early, his long white beard billowing in the early breeze as freely as the dazzlingly bright blue and yellow robes he was wearing. Petunia Dursley in particular was terrified that the neighbours would see this strange madman skipping down the road so early in the morning - curtains were beginning to twitch when she answered the door.

"Good morning Mrs Dursley. How are-", but before he could finish, the horse-faced woman in question grabbed hold of his robes and pulled him with surprising strength through the door into the hallway. With a quick glance to check whether anyone had seen (Oh! The Shame! The Shame!) she slammed the door closed.

"Who is it Petunia?" her husband, Vernon, asked from the kitchen. His answer came soon enough as the strange old man swept calmly and serenely into the room.

"Good morning Mr Dursley. How are you today?" There was an awkward moment or two of silence. "Allow me to introduce myself," this peculiar fellow eventually said, "I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Vernon was incensed. His face had gradually contorted into one of shock and then fury, the colour of his blotched face transforming into that famous deep shade of purple in double-quick time. He was about to shout at the top of his voice, but the force of presence that this old wizard possessed stopped him in his tracks. In the end, when he spoke it was just above a whisper, but the fury in his voice remained. "How dare you enter my home uninvited, and...and...and dressed like that!"

"I do apologise," Albus Dumbledore replied as calm as can be. "However, I am in a bit of a rush. I do not mean to be rude, but I wonder if I could have a word with young Mr Potter."

"He's in his room," said Petunia before her husband could say anything he might have regretted.

"Is he still asleep?"

The two muggles exchanged knowing glances. "No. I... er...I don't think he's been... well... sleeping very well," stammered Petunia.

"Yes, that is quite understandable," Dumbledore replied solemnly.

Uncle Vernon found his voice again, although there wasn't a trace of compassion for his nephew as he spoke. "Understandable?" he hissed. "He's been screaming and shouting in his sleep at all hours! We can't get a wink of sleep because of whatever your lot have done to him."

"I am very sorry to hear that Mr Dursley. Truly sorry. You will have to excuse me however. I must speak with your nephew." And with that said, Dumbledore swept out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

"The door on your left," Aunt Petunia called hurriedly from the hallway. It was lucky she had too, because regardless of how brilliant and well respected he was by the magical community, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, was about to make a fairly large mistake considering his current circumstances and knock on the door of one Dudley Dursley, who at this moment was sleeping like a baby.

"Ah, yes. Thank you Mrs Dursley," the Headmaster replied, and then turned to Harry's room.

Harry Potter sprang up from his bed where he had been rereading an old Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook. He recognised that voice, but what the hell was it doing coming from the upstairs landing? He yanked the door open as quickly as humanly possible.

"Professor?" he asked in bewilderment.

Dumbledore lowered his outstretched hand - there was no longer any need to knock on the door - and smiled brightly. "Good morning Harry." While the young man struggled to string two words together he calmly asked, "May I come in?"

Harry stood motionless in the doorway for a moment, but when his brain finally kicked into some sort of gear he managed to utter a "Yeah. Sure," and moved aside to allow the old man to enter.

Dumbledore took a moment to take a look around Harry's tiny room. The bed lay along the wall to the right, the desk under the window. There was a cupboard to his right. Heaped in the left portion of the room and on the shelves along the left-hand wall lay all the forgotten presents and broken toys of Harry's cousin, Dudley, along with numerous pictures of the Dursley's son dotted around the room. What was missing was absolutely anything to suggest that this was the bedroom of the famous Harry Potter, except for a photo of the young man's parents, which would have been insignificant except that they were moving in it! Needless to say, the headmaster wasn't happy with what he saw.

A rickety, uncomfortable looking chair was offered to him and he sat down graciously, while Harry plopped back down onto the bed - the sounds of broken springs could plainly be heard as he did so.

Taking a closer look at his favourite student Dumbledore could clearly see the dishevelled signs of grief and sorrow: the tired, baggy eyes and the sagging shoulders of a young man trying to bear so much. Apart from that though, he noticed that Harry was looking a little healthier in body than when he had seen him last, surreptitiously watching him board the train at Hogsmeade. Considering Harry's prior appearances back at Hogwarts after living at Privet Drive this was perhaps a minor miracle. Then again, he had been quickly informed of Harry's new morning routine by Tonks and had heartily approved of it, just so long as he was protected at all times.

Before he finally spoke, Dumbledore drew his wand and placed a silencing charm around the room. "Well Harry, I suppose I never truly understood what you have to go through here," he said gravely when he was sure they could not be overheard, indicating with his hand that he was referring to the room in general.

Harry waved Dumbledore's comment away, knowing full well that the man in front of him was fully aware of what he had to endure. "It's better than the cupboard-under-the-stairs at least," he said simply.

An expression of surprise and then guilt passed quickly across the headmaster's face. "How long?" he asked tentatively.

"Let's just say the first night at Hogwarts was the first time I remember sleeping in a bed," Harry said, the bitterness and anger etched clearly upon every syllable all of a sudden.

Dumbledore nodded slowly. He had known that the Dursleys hadn't exactly gotten on with their nephew, but to make the boy sleep under the stairs for ten years! Disgraceful! It just made him respect the young man before him even more for having endured so much, and it made him even sorrier for having decided to allow it to happen. "I'm so sor-"

"Forget it!" Harry snapped, his tired eyes flaring instantly into life.

The silence that followed was unbearable for the both of them. Harry for his part was angry, no livid, that the so-called 'most powerful wizard in the world' even had the gall to sit in the very house (perhaps hellhole was a better description) he had condemned him to for ten years and attempt to apologise and act all sorry for doing it.

Dumbledore, however, was just a little startled at the sight before him, and he was rarely startled! After all, less than a month ago he had faced down the most evil wizard in history without batting an eyelid. In his office afterwards he had seen Harry's anger for the first time, but this was different. Then, Harry was distraught, he had lashed out his uncontrollable grief and anger, and Dumbledore's office had taken the brunt of his rage and awesome power. Now, grief was still evident, but his anger was now focused, controlled, and Dumbledore saw not only contempt, but also perhaps a little malice and hatred in those green eyes staring challengingly at him from across the room.

"Well, I... er... I received your letter yesterday Harry," Dumbledore faltered. It had been a long time since he had felt like this, but he quickly composed himself. "I can't say that I understand what you are going through, but I do think that your request is prudent in the circumstances."

If he was waiting for a response he wasn't going to get one. The loathing Harry felt towards him was still latent and bubbling; the green eyes that reminded everyone so much of Lily where intensely bright. Dumbledore could literally feel the immense magical energy coursing through, and emanating from Harry as he looked warily at him. It was, for lack of a better word, intoxicating. If Harry could be taught to discipline such power, there would be no doubt that Voldemort was doomed.

"Tea, Harry?" the old wizard asked quickly, and with a flick of his wand a cream teapot appeared alongside two matching cup and saucers in midair.

Harry blinked at the sudden question. He didn't know what it was, but he had felt like he was just about to burst like a balloon. For a moment he thought the snake within had resurfaced, but he then realised that the anger he felt towards his headmaster was all his own and that Voldemort had nothing to do with it. Dumbledore's unexpected request had deflated him a little though. His attention flicked to his headmaster's question and he gave the slightest of nods.

"I find that a small cup of tea in the morning can simply work wonders," Dumbleore said, a twinkle in his bright blue eyes once more as he poured. "Sugar?" Harry shook his head. "No? Well, I suppose that perhaps I have too much sugar in my life. Between endless cups of tea and all those lemon drops my teeth don't really stand a chance, do they?"

Harry couldn't help but smile. The tension that had existed only moments before was quickly swept aside as he said dryly, "I guess we all have some weaknesses we can't ignore sir."

"That's very true Harry," Dumbledore responded, handing over one of the cups. "Very true indeed." He paused for a moment while he poured his own drink. His actions were calm and collected, but inwardly he was still shaken at what he had just witnessed. Never in all his many years had he seen such power contained within someone so young. He had suspected for some time that it was there yes, but this was the first time he had seen it for himself in so focused a fashion. "Now about your request," he said eventually, "I would be more than happy to accompany you to Diagon Alley and help you choose the books you deem necessary from Flourish & Blotts."

"You want to accompany me?" Harry asked incredulously.

"I would be more than happy to lend you a few books from my own extensive library of course," Dumbledore pressed on, "but they are fairly old and I am sure you would prefer to have your own brand new copies. Besides, I haven't walked down Diagon Alley for quite some time - the trip might do me some good."

Harry smiled at the Professor's cryptic response. Many regarded the Headmaster of Hogwarts an eccentric man, but Harry was beginning to know better; Dumbledore was a manipulator of people. He spoke in riddles and half-truths as consummately as a seasoned politician. Still, Harry had to give the old man his due; he more than likely found it distasteful to manipulate power and obfuscate the truth, but realised at the same time that such things were often necessary. Oh yes, Harry was beginning to wise up to the ways of the world and the utilitarian attitude that Albus Dumbledore appeared to have towards it! He suspected strongly that there was an ulterior motive for the headmaster personally accompanying him on his shopping trip.

"When?" Harry asked.

"Today, if you're not busy."

"Busy?" Dumbledore could also be extremely irritating sometimes with his aloofness. "Of course I'm not bloody busy!" Harry's anger was threatening to surface again: 'You know full well I'm not!' he thought, but managed to avoid saying.

"Good," Dumbledore said, wisely ignoring his student's raised voice. "Drink up then."

"But its only half-past eight!" Harry protested, "The shops won't be open yet."

"They will be soon enough Harry. I am not a big fan of crowded streets, so if we're lucky it won't be too crowded when we arrive."

Harry shook his head in wonder. The attitude of Dumbledore was something to behold at times. Then again, he was undoubtedly a busy man and perhaps was running a tight schedule, but for some unknown reason was unprepared to say so. 'Hiding the truth again from me old man?' Harry thought to himself.

"Actually Professor, I prefer it when it's really busy."

"And why is that Harry?"

"Because the busier it is, the more chance I have of blending in and going unnoticed. The busier the better as far as I'm concerned, sir."

Dumbledore smiled knowingly. "That's a very good point. Fame is indeed a fickle friend at times." Harry snorted into his cup of tea. "Yes I know, but it is one of the smartest things Gilderoy Lockhart ever told me... and yourself... and in fact, nearly everyone he meets!" Harry snorted a little louder. "It is nice to know that you learn from your mistakes Harry."

"What do you mean sir?" Harry asked, lowering his cup of tea.

"Well as I said during our previous meeting, it would have been better to have held the meeting about the DA last year in the Three Broomsticks rather the Hog's Head."

"Yes I know. That's what Sirius-" Harry stopped and lowered his head.

Dumbledore responded quickly. He leaned forward in his chair and raised Harry's chin with his left hand to look into those brilliant green eyes, shining with unshed tears. "Sirius was a very clever young man Harry. He knew more than most how to conceal himself among a crowd. He would be proud that you have learnt that from him so quickly." Dumbledore then leaned back into his chair. "But he wouldn't be too happy seeing you grieve so heavily for him. It is an important part of the healing process, but you must never linger within its bleak walls for too long Harry. Such heartache can destroy the soul."

Harry nodded slowly, fighting desperately to keep his emotions in check. "Yes, well," he began, his shaky voice giving away the pain he still felt, "there's so much I have to learn, isn't there?" He looked up sharply into the face of Dumbledore, his eyes once more unblinkingly boring into the ones behind the half-moon spectacles. "Quickly!" He spat out the last word as sharply as a snake would sink its venom into its prey.

It was now the Professor's turn to nod slowly. "Which is why I am here, Harry. If you have finished your drink, it is time we were on our way." He stood up to go and with a flick of his wand the cups and teapot vanished.

"Sir?" Harry asked, still sitting on his bed.

"Yes, Harry."

"There is one thing that bothers me. You said that you didn't want Voldemort to know... er... to know... well... your feelings towards me." Harry was on dangerous ground here, Dumbledore had plainly admitted he cared deeply for Harry in his office less than two weeks ago, but Harry could not forgive and forget so easily the horrors he had endured his entire life, horrors endured largely due to the mistakes and oversights the old man before him had made. "But if we're seen walking down Diagon Alley doesn't that... kind of... give the game away?"

"Perhaps." Dumbledore's expression suddenly became more serious once more as he sat back down again. "However, that no longer concerns me for two reasons. First, as you well know, this last year I was influenced too much by my fear of what could happen to you. As I said two weeks ago, I have grown to love you like you were family, perhaps even like my own son." Harry scowled slightly at this - he would not allow the Headmaster to employ pity and sorrow as a means of gaining back his trust. "But I have come to realise that those decisions, although made for your benefit, didn't really make you any safer and were made because the feelings you unknowingly engendered in my heart were clouding my judgement. Secondly, and more importantly, now you know the truth it is time to prepare you for the challenge you are faced with."

Harry lowered his head at this point; any thoughts of the Prophecy automatically pushed his shoulders down.

Dumbledore felt that now was a good time to address some issues that should have been dealt with in his office the last time they spoke. "You spoke in your letter of being neither old enough nor powerful enough to defeat Tom Riddle. I must say that you are mistaken on both accounts."

Harry's head jerked upwards. "You can't be serious Professor?"

"I have never been more serious Harry." That much was true - Harry had rarely seen the headmaster like this before. "You defeated Tom for the first time when you were barely a year old. Shouldn't that tell you that age is not a factor here?"

"But-"

"No buts Harry! As to your second point, the power that defeated Tom for the first time might have been due to your mother, but it was power that belonged to you nevertheless. Similarly, everything that has happened since should serve to underline the fact that you are becoming a very powerful wizard Harry." Dumbledore's thoughts quickly went back to the events of a few minutes ago. "Very powerful," he said slowly.

Harry blinked his eyes several times in bewilderment.

"You seem shocked that I admit that Harry, but think it through for a moment. Your parents were themselves two of the most gifted people I have ever had the pleasure to teach. You have undoubtedly inherited your indomitable nature, your strength of character and resolve, from them. In its self, as the son of Lily and James Potter you would unquestionably be a great wizard." Harry smiled thinly. "On top of this, you carry the scar that Tom unwillingly gave you, and along with that - as I have explained before - come perhaps even greater powers, powers that - to a large extent - remain untapped."

Harry grimaced. He didn't like the idea that there were more of Voldemort's powers within him, evil powers that he simply did not want to know about.

"I know that this is not exactly laying your mind at ease, but it must be said." Dumbledore paused momentarily. "When you faced Tom after the third task and duelled with him, you survived. Why?"

"Because I was lucky," Harry replied immediately.

"Yes... and no. You did not know that the wands would connect and it was that unknown factor that saved you. However, dozens of people have died at the personal hands of Tom Riddle, and many of them not because he was more powerful than them, but because they were afraid of him, because they did not even attempt to fight him off. You however, decided to follow in your father's footsteps and to go out fighting. As I have told you before it was your bravery and courage that saved your life that night.

"And then we come to the events of a few weeks ago." Dumbledore continued. "It was not your fault what eventually happened - never forget that - but look beyond this for a moment and what do you think I see?" Harry couldn't answer; it was taking all his strength and determination to stop himself from collapsing into a heap of gut-wrenching sobs. "I see a fifteen year old boy attempt to save his godfather from certain death without a single thought of his own safety. I see a young man risk his own life to save another. Do you think Tom Riddle would ever do something like that?"

Harry shook his head. "It didn't work though, did it?" he managed to utter, his voice choking with emotion. "Sirius died."

"But it did work when you saved Ginny Weasley's life in the Chamber of Secrets." Dumbledore paused momentarily to let this fact sink in. "You are utterly selfless Harry," he continued. "Tom Riddle would never dream of doing the things you have done because he has no compassion, he has no love for others, while you are full of it. You allowed Peter Pettigrew to live for the same reason. Even though he was the man who betrayed your parents to Tom, you couldn't bring yourself to let him be killed. You realised instinctively that he wasn't the one ultimately to blame, that the one who deserves to suffer for it is Tom Riddle himself."

"It doesn't mean I can kill him though. I'm still not powerful enough."

"You will be when the time comes," was the simple response.

Dumbledore hesitated momentarily, obviously churning something over in his mind. "Harry, I don't think you fully understand the position you hold," he said eventually. "To society at large you are the 'boy-who-lived', the one who brought about the downfall of the most evil wizard in the world when just a year old." Harry was about to interrupt, but Dumbledore raised a hand to silence him. "When all hope seemed lost, when the end seemed near, when 'You-know-who' seemed utterly invincible, the man who was responsible for the deaths of hundreds - perhaps thousands - was defeated by a one-year-old child. I'm not saying this to boost your ego Harry; I am saying this so that you fully understand what you mean to people. You were a miracle."

"Then why the hell did they treat me like they did this year?" Harry roared. His eyes once more flashed brightly, and waves of energy were emanating from him, hitting Dumbledore with force.

Once more, the Headmaster of Hogwarts was struck dumb by the spectacle before him. Harry would definitely have to learn to control his temper; otherwise more than just mere objects would be broken in its wake!

"Because they did not want to believe the truth," Dumbledore finally responded. "Before you were born the wizarding world was a terrible place Harry. There was death and destruction around every corner. There was no escaping the fear and terror that 'Lord Voldemort' was causing. As such, the public simply did not want to believe that there was even the slightest of chances that we could return to such a time. It was better for them to believe a lie. Now, that the truth is known and accepted you must be able to accept who you are. The wizarding world assumes that you are one of the most powerful of our kind, and everything you have endured and succeeded in proves that their assumptions are far from false. Once again you will become the focus of so much hope. It is not just the burden of the Prophecy that you must carry now; it is the weight of expectation and belief that you bring to people that you must also shoulder."

Harry closed his eyes and shuddered. This was the last thing he wanted. He hated the attention, the looks that everyone gave him, the reverence they bestowed upon him. He didn't want any of it.

"I know that this is not what you want Harry, but I am afraid that once again you have no choice in the matter," Dumbledore explained. "You must accept it, and I know that you are strong enough to do it."

"Why?" Harry whispered, not daring to hear anything.

"The DA Harry," Dumbledore replied simply. "You took it upon yourself to teach other students the skills that you had been blessed... and cursed with. You stood out among the crowd and accepted for the first time that you are a leader of people. I knew then that you were ready for the challenge ahead, that you had become comfortable enough with whom you are to face the fate that I had held from you for too long. And when you decided to save Sirius five other students went with you, and they went because they believe in you, because they trust you with their lives. With the skills you had taught them they managed to survive when outnumbered - almost two to one - by fully grown Death Eaters"

"But they almost died!" Harry managed to blurt out, his voice shaking with suppressed sobs.

"Let me finish Harry. You need to hear this. Lord Voldemort has his followers, but they are afraid of him, and it is this fear that keeps them bound to him, fear that he will kill them if they desert him. You, also have your followers now Harry, but they did not go with you because they are afraid of you, afraid that you would kill them if they refused. No dear boy, those five students went with you to the Department of Mysteries because they love you Harry - each in their own way and not because you are the-boy-who-lived, but because you are you. Do you understand?"

Harry faltered for the longest of moments before softly bowing his head. "No matter how many follow me, I have to face him alone at the end," he said, looking at the floor.

"That is true, and that is why it is important to note the outcome of what happened in the Department of Mysteries. The five students who followed you all left with varying degrees of injuries. You however, left physically unharmed. Doesn't that strike you as odd?"

Harry closed his eyes and shuddered involuntarily. The guilt of being responsible for the injuries of Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna was something he hadn't fully thought about until the last few moments. Sirius' death had clouded everything else. Now however, the old man had given him something else to feel sorry for.

"Please do not dwell on your classmates' injuries Harry," Dumbledore said quickly, almost as if he was reading Harry's mind (something which he was certainly capable of doing if he wanted to). "They have all recovered and not one of them blames you for what happened. They put themselves in harm's way willingly, and believe me they would gladly do so again if you asked them to."

Harry thought for a moment. Would his friends risk their lives for him again? Would they die for him? He nodded his head slowly. "I know," he whispered.

Dumbledore smiled thinly. It was perhaps cruel to place these hard truths upon Harry so soon, but he seemed to be taking it quite well. He pondered on whether or not to ask his next question, but it had to be done. "Also Harry, the issue of Bellatrix Lestrange needs addressing." he said gravely.

At the mention of her name Harry's anger quickly resurfaced. "Why?" he scowled.

"Not only did she send Sirius through the veil, she also duelled with Alastor Moody, Nymphadora Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt - three very strong Aurors - and brushed all of them aside. She also deflected a particularly powerful curse of mine with relative ease. Yet you chased after her, and when I arrived, although Tom was about to kill you she herself had not harmed you. What happened?"

"Excuse me?" Harry was confused.

Dumbledore leaned forward slightly. "Harry, I have no idea what took place between Bellatrix and yourself before I arrived. I would dearly like to know."

"Well..." Harry was unsure what to tell. The truth would not go down well, but nothing less would do. "I chased her up into the lobby, and then she began taunting me. She was saying things in a babyish voice. She got me angry and I... er... I..."

"Yes Harry?"

"I jumped out from behind the statue where I was hiding and... well... I hit her with the Cruciatus."

Dumbledore lowered his head slightly, his blue eyes peering intently at the young man before him over the top of his half-moon spectacles. "And?"

"I'm sorry sir," was all Harry managed to say.

Dumbledore remained quiet for a moment or two before he asked slowly, "Did it work?"

"Not exactly. I mean it did hit her, and she did fall onto the ground in pain, but then that was it. She didn't writhe around in agony like she was supposed to. When she got back up she explained that righteous anger wouldn't fuel the Cruciatus properly, that I would have to really want to cause pain to make it work." When Dumbledore's expression didn't change Harry asked timidly, "You're not angry with me sir, are you?"

"You were...are struggling under a great weight of expectation Harry. It is impossible for someone as young as you to not do things in such situations that you later regret. Yes you performed an unforgiveable curse. However, contrary to the name I do forgive you... this time."

"There won't be another, Professor."

"I'm glad to hear it. Sometimes fighting fire with fire is not a good thing. Anyway, what happened next?"

"Nothing much. I tried a Stunning spell. She blocked it. Her spells and curses were so fast sir - I could barely avoid them. She asked for the Prophecy and I told her it was smashed, and then when I felt his anger I told her he knew, I taunted her like she'd taunted me, and she became frightened. That's when Voldemort appeared. You basically know the rest - he just said that I'd 'irked him too often' and went to kill me."

Dumbledore remained still and quiet for a moment before continuing. "What you have told me confirms everything I have said?"

"How?"

"First, you do possess extraordinary powers. You brought Bellatrix Lestrange to her knees, and although it took an Unforgiveable to do it - something which we will discuss further on at a later date - you did what Alastor, Tonks and Kingsley could not. Second, when you realised that her duelling abilities outmatched your own, you kept your head and probed her weakness."

"Weakness?"

"Yes. Every Death Eater's greatest weakness is their fear of Lord Voldemort. By taunting her as you did, you took advantage of that."

"But what about Voldemort? When he appeared I just froze. I didn't do anything. If you hadn't have appeared when you did I'd be dead."

"I know Harry. Don't worry about that. Once I have you prepared you will not freeze before him again. You will be ready to defeat him."

"Are you going to train me?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Yes." As Harry smiled at his teacher's response Dumbledore raised his hand once more to stop him interrupting. "But you must tell no one. Although Tom will be expecting me to prepare you - he knows that you are his main threat - I would prefer it if this was strictly kept between you and I for now." Harry nodded in response. "I am an extremely busy man but it is more important that I train you to prevail against him than any of my other duties, and I am more than confident that you will."

Harry didn't know what to say, so he settled for a simple "Thank you sir."

"That is enough talk for now. After all," a smile appeared once more on Professor Dumbledore's face - the serious expression of a moment ago a mere memory, "I would like to miss the crowds in Diagon Alley."

"Of course sir," Harry responded softly.

They left as quickly and as soon as Harry was ready. He put on some clean clothes - old, dishevelled and still too large for him - and picked up his wand and vault key. Dumbledore gave explanations tersely to the Dursleys - he had not forgotten the start of his conversation with Harry that easily - then he lifted up a cup off the kitchen table, pointed his wand at it and muttered, "Portus." At the sight of the wand in open view both Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia recoiled to the far wall.

"Wh-what are y-you doing?" stammered Uncle Vernon.

Dumbledore ignored him. "Touch the cup Harry," he said.

"I hate Portkeys," Harry muttered. "Couldn't you teach me how to apparate?"

The old man smiled broadly. "Now that you mention it Mr Potter, I have obtained special permission from the Ministry of Magic - now that they are co-operating once more - to do just that, but it shall have to wait for another day."

He suddenly paused and turned to Harry's relatives who remained cowering as far away as possible. "One final thought Mr and Mrs Dursley," he said in the same terse manner, "In light of the current unfavourable circumstances in the wizarding world, I have obtained for your nephew an exemption from the restriction on the use of underage magic." Harry's jaw dropped in total shock, but Dumbledore was too busy gauging the Dursley's all too predictable and all too wanted response. "Although I am sure that you deserve anything this most powerful of wizards would do to you," he said, patting Harry on the shoulder, "I am confident he is responsible enough to leave you unharmed. However, I wouldn't test his temperament if I were you. I did that last month and he destroyed my office! Good day to you," he added brightly. "Come on now Harry, touch the cup."

Harry took a wobbly step forward, still trying to get his mind around the fact he could now perform magic whenever and wherever he wanted, and gingerly placed his fingertip upon the smooth, round, ceramic surface. He immediately felt the dreaded pull from behind his navel and the whoosh of blurred light and colours, finally landing awkwardly in front of a brick wall. The only thing that stopped him from falling over was the strong vice-like grip of his headmaster. "Sorry," Harry muttered before righting himself. "Where are we?" he asked.

"We are, I believe, in the backyard of the Leaky Cauldron. Now if I could just remember the combination..." The old wizard tapped his wand upon several of the bricks before them, the wall magically moved to the side, and together they stepped through into Diagon Alley.

"Ah, it has truly been too long since I have been here. Too long indeed!" Dumbledore said, more to himself than Harry, although it had been nearly three years since Harry had been to Diagon Alley too.

Harry remained silent as they walked down the famous London street, but Dumbledore took his silence as an opportunity to say a few more words - quietly of course so as not to be overheard. "Now Harry, I think that it is vital that you learn Occlumency. I will take it upon myself to teach you over the summer. Professor Snape will have already covered the basics of meditation and different shielding techniques with you, so hopefully you will be well on your way to blocking off your mind from Tom - or indeed anyone - when you return to school in September."

"Meditation? Shielding techniques?" Harry was confused. "All Snape told me was to clear my mind. Nothing else."

Dumbledore sighed heavily and muttered something under his breath. "I am afraid Harry," he began eventually, "that Professor Snape's method of teaching was not the most constructive. It appears that I will have to speak with him some more on this matter. Nevertheless, although he had told me you were proceeding slowly - now I know why - I am confident that you can be brought up to speed."

What few people there where out shopping so early instantly recognised the pair of wizards walking towards Gringotts Bank. Some nodded and politely wished them a "Good morning", some pointed in wonder and whispered hurriedly among each other, and one particularly excitable wizard even took off his purple hat and bowed low deferentially as they walked past. Harry recognized him as Dedalus Diggle. There were of course one or two scowls among them, but Harry didn't mind that. He was used to it all by now. The goblins in Gringotts acted per usual though: surly and uninterested.

During the ride down to his vault Harry finally drummed up the courage to question his Headmaster. "Sir, why did you get me an exemption from the underage magic law?"

"I would have thought that was obvious my boy. So you can protect yourself if needed without worrying about breaking the law, and so I can begin your Occlumency training as soon as possible."

Harry paused for a moment. "Yes, but why did you tell the Dursleys like that?"

Dumbledore smiled as his mind went back to the look on the muggles faces as he spoke to them. "I felt it was time that they were informed of whom exactly they were required to care for, and the possible consequences for them if they continued to act towards you as they have in the past. Besides," he chuckled, "I wanted to see them squirm."

Harry didn't join in the laughter. After a moment or two he spoke slowly, "Thank you... sir... for doing what you should have done years ago."

Dumbledore pursed his lips in contemplation before turning to his student and nodding his head slowly. "Point taken Harry."

They were both silent the rest of the ride.

Once Harry had taken enough gold from his vault, Dumbledore led him to Flourish & Blotts. The storeowner was absentmindedly flicking through pages in a book when they entered because the store was empty of other customers so early in the morning. He looked up to see who had come in and, needless to say, the book quickly lay forgotten on the floor of the shop.

"Albus Dumbledore!" he cried in wonderment. "What brings you to my... HARRY POTTER! Oh, er... er..." He took a quick breath then continued, attempting unsuccessfully to conceal his excitement, "May I... I help you?"

"Yes you may. Mr Potter here would like to buy some books," explained Dumbledore jovially, "and I am here to help him decide which ones will be suitable."

"Naturally, naturally," said the owner, a little more high-pitched than usual. "You will be wanting books on duelling techniques, defence against the dark arts, things like that I presume."

"Among others yes," Dumbledore replied with a slight nod.

The storeowner smiled delightfully, glad he had presumed correctly, and began to lead them over to the far corner of the store. He stopped suddenly and turned to face the famous pair. "Would you like me to close the shop momentarily while you choose?"

"No thank you," said Harry politely before Dumbledore had a chance to say anything. "That won't be necessary. We're not contagious you know".

"But of course you aren't Mr Potter," replied the owner, clearly missing the intended humour. "I was just... I was only..."

"I was only joking," said Harry, a big grin on his face. Sure he'd seen people act nervously around him before, but this was fun for a change.

"Joke? Oh a joke! Of course, of course," the owner said, mightily relieved. "Follow me then."

Dumbledore recommended several extremely advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts books, and a couple of others that the storeowner seemed a little wary at first of selling to someone who was still underage. The fact that the boy in question was Harry Potter, and that it was Albus Dumbledore himself who was suggesting them, seemed to allay his fears however and he was quickly back to his previous goofy, excitable self. Harry also picked up several NEWT level textbooks on Charms and Transfiguration, as well as a range of others dealing with various topics - Occlumency and Animagi being of particular interest of course. Overall, the headmaster was very impressed with Harry's choices.

Before they left the store Dumbledore nimbly skipped over to the Potions shelves and picked up a NEWT level Potions textbook and handed it over to his young protégé, his blue eyes twinkling merrily. "Consider this an early birthday present Harry."

"Thank you sir," Harry gasped. And then his mouth widened into a beaming smile. "Thanks very much," he said, pleased in the knowledge that he was well on his way to becoming an Auror.