Concordia Discors

Concordia Discors

Chapter 1

Welcome to the planet

Welcome to existence

Everyone's here

Everyone's here

Everybody's watching you now

Everybody waits for you now

What happens next?

What happens next?

I dare you to move

I dare you to move

I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor

I dare you to move

I dare you to move

Like today never happened

Today never happened before

Welcome to the fallout

Welcome to resistance

The tension is here

The tension is here

Between who you are and who you could be

Between how it is and how it should be

I dare you to move

I dare you to move

I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor

I dare you to move

I dare you to move

Like today never happened

Today never happened

Maybe redemption has stories to tell

Maybe forgiveness is right where you fell

Where can you run to escape from yourself?

Where you gonna go?

Where you gonna go?

Salvation is here...

I dare you to move

I dare you to move

I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor

I dare you to move

I dare you to move

Like today never happened

Today never happened

Today never happened

Today never happened before...

- Dare You to Move by Switchfoot

Harry Potter sat alone in his bedroom at number four Privet Drive with a Defense Against the Dark Arts book, trying as hard as he could to keep the important things off his mind. So far, he was unsuccessful. The events of last term kept coming back to him, worse than ever.

Quite suddenly, an owl screeched and pecked at the window. It was a large barn owl.

With a small scowl, Harry rolled out of bed reluctantly and let it in. It screeched again, causing Harry to wince. He really didn't want to anger the Durleys.

The owl- which looked like one of the ones from the school owlery- swooped in and dropped a letter on his bed, then looked at hi expectantly and hooted once again. Harry laughed tiredly and walked over to Hedwig's cage, pulling out an owl treat and handing it to the unfamiliar bird. He ignored Hedwig's shriek of anger as he took the letter and the owl flew away.

The rolled piece of parchment lay on his bed untouched for several minutes. Finally, Harry forced himself to pick it up, unrolling it and spreading it out. He lay across his bed with the letter in his hands, and sighed with guilt as he recognized Hermione's neat print. It was only 4 days into the summer holidays, and he had not answered any letters from any of his friends. He had gotten a rather strange one from Luna... And a few from Ron, Ginny, and Neville... But Hermione had literally bombarded him with letters, about 3 or 4 per day. He braced himself for the pity he was about to receive...H was so tired of their pity.

I rented this owl from the school, Harry, to send you yet another letter you won't answer. I've tried to be nice, tried to understand, tried to avoid the subject entirely. But since none of that worked, I'm done trying. You're being very cruel, Harry... I know you miss Sirius, but is that any reason to cut us all out of your life? Luna told me you wrote a rather rude reply to the letter you sent her, and there is absolutely no excuse for that. Not after what she did. She helped you Harry, no questions asked, when you thought Sirius was in danger. She was right at your side, charging in right after you, and you barely knew her. And then you treat her- you treat all of us- like this?

Maybe Ron is willing to tiptoe around you, maybe Ginny is willing to pretend that you're not doing anything wrong, and maybe Neville is willing to write this away to grief and let it by, but I'm not. There is no excuse. You can be decent to your friends and still grieve for Sirius, Harry. I know you miss him, so do I, and don't say I didn't know him as well, because I know him better than you realize. You're not the only one who's lost someone, Harry, and you're not the only one who's suffering. And you're making it harder for all of us. Please let us in...

Love from,

Hermione

Harry sat back and stared at the parchment for a few moments, debating whether to reply or not. To be perfectly honest with himself, he didn't know what to say. That was the last thing he expected from Hermione, even if she was usually brutally honest. Biting his lip, he took out parchment and a quill and wrote:

I'm sorry for not responding to previous letters, but sometimes I just don't want to. You can't blame me for that, can you? Tell Luna I'm sorry, but this is hard. You may know him better than I thought, and of course, I'm sorry for your loss. This must be so hard for you, Hermione. So hard. I mean, you lost your parents as a child and have lived without knowing them all your life, right? Living instead with relatives that hate you? Then, when you found the link to your parents, and finally have someone that loved you, he died, didn't he? Because, if so, I can totally sympathize with you. Otherwise, leave me be. Please.

Best wishes,

Harry.

Harry tied the letter to Hedwig's leg and told her to deliver it to Hermione. Hedwig hooted affirmatively and took off as soon as Harry opened the window. He sighed and wondered briefly if he should have said that to his best friend, but quickly brushed the feeling away and collapsed onto his bed. Moments after he closed his eyes, someone tapped hesitantly on the door.

"Yes?" he called, not even opening his eyes.

His eyes shot open as his Aunt Petunia nervously eased the door open. "Harry dear?"

"What?" he asked, rolling over and sitting up.

"Breakfast is ready."

His mouth opened in shock, and he gaped at her.

"Well?" she asked meekly. "Are you coming down?"

Harry forced his mouth shut, then said weakly, "Yes, yes, I'll be right there." His aunt hesitated for a second, then nodded and began to shut the door. Harry walked across the room and grabbed the door holding it in place. His aunt stared at him anxiously and he realized he was looking down at her. When had he gotten so tall?

"Thanks," he whispered. Petunia smiled at her nephew, tears glittering in her eyes. He seemed so tired, and he was so old... She'd missed so many years she could have shared with him.. Truly shared with him. She'd treated him like garbage, and yet... he had, after everything they'd put him through, saved her son. What had she done? she demanded of herself angrily. What had she missed all these years? Harry, not noticing his aunt's eyes fill with tears, followed her silently down the stairs.

Dudley and Vernon were already sitting there at the kitchen table, Vernon hidden behind a newspaper and Dudley picking at his food. Dudley had, thanks to a diet his father had put him on for wrestling, lost quite a bit of weight, and looked more like a muscular teenager than a big tub of lard with multiple chins. Vernon didn't even look up when Harry entered with Petunia, but rather stayed hidden behind his paper, radiating anger.

Dudley looked up when Harry sat down. "Good morning, Harry," he said.

Harry looked at him in shock. What's going on...?

"Uh.... Good morning, Dudley."

Dudley nodded to him and returned to his plate. Petunia picked up Harry's plate and began putting food on it, while Harry watched with wide eyes. Eggs, bacon, toast... it was as big as a meal she'd given Dudley!

She handed it to him when she finished and he accepted it gratefully.

"Thank you, Aunt Petunia," he said, picking up his fork.

"You're welcome, Harry," she responded, casting a quick glance at her husband, who seemed to be growing angrier by the moment.

The meal was awkward and silent, as Vernon didn't say anything from behind his paper, just scowled and shot his wife dirty looks. She looked guilty to Harry, like she had done something Vernon had specifically told her not to do... which Harry supposed that she had, by bringing him down for breakfast and being kind. Petunia and Dudley both looked like they were afraid to say anything.

It didn't take Harry too long to finish his meal. It didn't take nearly as long as it took for him to eat at Hogwarts, because at Hogwarts he actually talked. As soon as the other three were done-save Vernon, who never came out from behind the paper-he stood and began to retrieve the plates.

"No, no, Harry, let me get them," Petunia said, putting her hand on Harry's arm as he reached for her plate.

"But-"

"OH, NO, YOU DON'T!" Vernon roared, bringing the paper down from in front of his face and glaring at Petunia. "It's the boy's job to earn his keep and that's why he does the chores! So you LET HIM DO IT!"

Petunia turned to him angrily. "I just want to get the dishes, Vernon, that's what mothers do," she drawled.

"You are NOT his mother!"

"So? He lives under this roof! It is our DUTY to treat him fairly!"

Harry stepped back a bit in fear, clutching the plates in his hand. "Uh-Aunt Petunia-I'll just do the-"

"No! You won't!" She stood and took the dishes from him, stomping over to the sink and dropping them in. She twisted the faucet and grabbed a soapy sponge.

"STOP THAT RIGHT NOW!" Vernon bellowed. "THAT'S AN ORDER!"

Petunia whirled around, soap dripping from her hand and the sponge in it. "You can't order me around just because I'm your wife! And you can't just treat Lily's son like dirt!"

Harry winced and took another step back, towards the kitchen wall.

"Oh, YES I CAN! Even YOU had no problem doing it for the PAST 15 YEARS! Now STEP AWAY FROM THE SINK and give the sponge to the BOY!"

Petunia did him one better and threw the sponge at his head.

He, Harry, and Dudley gaped at her, looking between the soapy sponge that was stuck to Vernon's face and the woman that was looking at it, shocked.

"Uh...You want to go for a walk, Harry?" Dudley asked quickly, before his father exploded.

Vernon Dursley's eyes widened in anger as he turned to look at his son and his face turned an even darker color of violet, a dribble of soap sliding down his cheek and onto his shirt.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, a bit confused at Dudley's escape method, but nodded. "Sure."

Dudley and Harry stood and walked out the front door. They walked in silence for a few moments, walking towards Magnolia Crescent. Before they realized that time was even moving, they reached the alley where the Dementors had attacked last summer.

Dudley shivered at the memory. "What were those things, Harry?"

"Dementors. They guard the prison of Azkaban."

"Do they do that to... to everybody? I mean, make you feel like that?"

"Yes," Harry sighed sadly, tiredly. "Some more than others."

Dudley stared at Harry as a spasm of pain flashed across his face, but it was gone in an instant. "You."

Harry sighed tiredly again and shrugged. Dudley stared at him in concern- He sounded like someone who'd seen too much to continue on, someone who had already given up...

"Does this have something to do with that... Voldemort-person? The one who's come back?"

Harry shrugged again, noncommittal. "Everything in my world does these days..."

"Not everything..." Dudley shot back. " How can everything have to do with him? Your friends aren't your friends because of him."

They started walking again, heading toward Mongolia Park

His voice when he spoke was cracked, broken. "But I'm who I am because of what I've been through... Because of him. And my friends are friends with me because of who I am. Everything goes back to him, Dudley. Every death, every attack in my world goes back to him. You don't understand... You don't know what he's done."

"Then tell me, Harry. Help me understand."

"Why? So you can suffer too? I can't do that. I can't live with that." Harry sighed, shook his head. "I can't live with this..."

"No, so I'm not always left out!" Dudley shot back. "There's a whole other world out there that I know nothing about!"

Harry stared at him in shock. "I thought you wanted to be left out of the Wizarding world?" He sighed. "You don't want to know, Dudley. Believe me."

Dudley laughed bitterly. "Whoever said ignorance is bliss lied. It's hell."

Harry spun on him angrily- they had stopped walking long ago. "Would it comfort you to know you're walking with a man marked for death by the second most powerful wizard alive?"

"I wasn't looking for comfort. Just the truth. It's not any less dangerous if I don't know. In fact, it's more dangerous, because if I don't know I'm unprepared."

"You're unprepared anyway," Harry told him with a sad laugh. "Hell, I'm unprepared, and I live in that world."

Dudley stared off into the distance, a confusing look on his face. In that instant, Harry realized he had never known his cousin at all. "But you're alive. You survived. Every year you come back from that... that place, with more scars, more pain, and the nightmares... I wake up in the night and hear you screaming, Harry, and I listen. It's just a glimpse, but it's enough. I know what you've lived through better than my parents, but I want... I need... to know more."

"All right... I'll tell you. But not everything. And not here."

Harry looked pained for another moment, before they abruptly switched directions and headed back home. They walked in silence back to the driveway of the Durleys' home. Harry and Dudley entered the house quietly, trying not to alert Petunia and Vernon of their presence, and then they darted up the stairs, somewhat noisily. Harry started to head towards his bedroom, but Dudley shook his head. He gestured towards his own room. "No, no, in here, come on."

Harry shrugged, and followed behind his cousin into the large bedroom. But he stopped right inside the door and stared; the room he stood in was absolutely extravagant. In the center was a large four-poster bed with light yellow silk sheets and hangings. A soft white rug adorned the floor... it was so fluffy that his feet sank into it. There were oak chests of drawers, a desk, chairs, couches, and a large mirror in the corner, all adding to the feel of being in the bedroom of a spoiled child.

Harry raised his eyebrow at the mirror in the corner, and Dudley blushed mildly.

"My dad," he explained. "He made me get it so that I would look good for his company dinners and wrestling matches. I don't have it cause I want it, don't worry..."

The corners of Harry's mouth tipped up almost unnoticeably. Then they dipped drastically. He took a deep breath, then let it all out loudly. "I don't know where to start..."

Dudley closed the door, leaving it open a crack- something that went unnnoticed by harry. He gestured toward the large white leather couch sitting against the wall opposite the door and said "Start by sitting down."

Harry sat down nervously, and Dudley sat on a light yellow lounge chair across from him. "Now," he said quietly, "I always thought that the beginning was a good place to start..."

The young wizard nodded hesitantly. "I'm not really quite sure where the beginning is, actually."

Dudley didn't say anything. He knew better than to say a word.

I suppose... I suppose that it started with my parents, who were, you should know, not killed in a car crash, but rather... killed... by Voldemort."

"I heard about that," Dudley said quietly. "That... man said it when they first came to get you." Dudley scowled at the memory of what Hagrid did to him with the infamous pink umbrella.

Harry chuckled at the dark look on Dudley's face. "So," he hesitated, "then... what do you want to know?"

"Why are you 'marked for death' by this Voldy-person?"

Rage flashed across Harry's face, but it was gone almost immediately. "I don't know," he admitted. "Not really..."

"Not really?" Dudley prompted.

"Well... there was this... this prophecy... That said I was a danger to him. So... he killed my parents... And he tried to kill me...several times, actually."

"Prophecy?" Dudley asked, confusion crossing his face. "I thought prophecies were fake. Like, from Sunday school and fantasies."

Harry laughed bitterly. "So did I."

"How did he try to kill you? Or, even better, how did you get away?"

Harry's head snapped up and he stared Dudley in the eyes. "What, is this entertainment for you?"

Dudley's eyes widened and he shook his head quickly. "No! No, of course not! I didn't mean.... I'm sorry."

Harry calmed down a little but remained on guard. "You already know about the first time... The second time was in my first year at Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts is the school?" Dudley cut in.

Harry nodded. "Yes, Hogwarts is my school." He took a deep breath, then continued. "He was trying to get the Philosopher's Stone... a stone that could produce the Elixer of Life, allowing him to return to his body, something he'd been unable to do since he attacked me almost 15 years ago. But Ron and Hermione--my friends--and I stopped him, sort of. So he tried to kill me, then... but somehow I was saved... living with you guys, somehow... saved me."

"Living with us?"

"Yes. Some sort of blood protection, I don't really know. Dumbledore-the Headmaster-told me that I was safe because my mother sacrificed herself for me, and by living with my blood relatives, a protection spell was over me. I honestly don't know, though...."

Harry swallowed and continued. "My name somehow got entered into a tournament between the different Wizarding schools. Even though I was under the age limit to compete... And in the last task of the tournament, Voldemort... Voldemort kidnapped me and... And someone... someone else."

"Cedric?" Dudley asked.

Harry stared at him, shocked. Dudley shrugged, looking suddenly nervous. "Well, you dream about him a lot. Ever since you came back after 4th year."

Quietly, Harry said, "Yes, me and Cedric. Another competitor... the REAL competitor." His voice dropped to a pained whisper. "The one who should have won."

"The real competitor? You weren't?" Dudley asked curiously. "You said you were picked, right?"

"I was sneaked in by someone who wanted to make sure I would be in the tournament... Someone who was working for Voldemort. Cedric was the competitor chosen for Hogwarts. I was an extra. because of him. Because of Voldemort." His voice dropped to a whisper again. "It all leads back to him..."

Dudley, surprisingly enough, looked at Harry with sympathy. "Then... then what happened? You were kidnapped...."

Suddenly, the prophecy ran through his mind...

And either must die at the hand of the other...

"Yeah, we were kidnapped. Taken to an abandoned graveyard..."

For neither can live while the other survives....

"And... And then what?" Dudley asked, sounding scared now.

"Voldemort was there....

Neither can live...

"Along with someone the world thought was dead..."

While the other...

"And he tied us up... And cut my arm, performing a spell... That brought Voldemort back to power."

Dudley stared at Harry with concern. "Who... who did the world think was dead?"

Harry's hands clenched into fists, and this time the rage didn't disappear, "Wormtail," he whispered, his voice shaking with anger, "Peter Pettigrew... the man who betrayed my parents."

"What..." Dudley began hesitantly, "what happened to Cedric?"

Harry's head shot up again, and his fists, if it was possible, tightened even more. "He killed him." he whispered. "Wormtail killed him. Didn't even give any sign he was there, just killed him from the shadows... Like the coward he's always been. The dirty rat... he heard the order from his 'master' and killed Cedric... no reason at all... just because he was there..."

Wincing, Harry reached up and rubbed the scar on his arm. Dudley's eyes followed his hand and he raised his eyebrows at Harry, who sighed tiredly once again.

"When Wormtail had killed Cedric and tied me to a headstone, he took a bone out of the grave at my feet..."

Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son...

"And dropped it in a large stone caulldron.. in a potion he was making...Then he cut off his own left hand..."

Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master...

"And then.. he stabbed me.. and poured my blood into the cauldron too, with his hand, and the bone, and everything else.. "

Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe...

Harry winced. "And he was reborn... given back his body, his power, everything... all because I couldn't stop it... look at what I've done..."

Harry's sadness visibly turned to anger, and Dudley jumped back. "Now, come on, it's not all your fault... It's not like you could have stopped him if he's so powerful anyway..."

"The hell it isn't!" Harry whispered.

"If I had just let Professor Lupin and Sirius deal with Wormtail last time... Wormtail would be dead, and Voldemort wouldn't be back..." Harry winced at the memory of Sirius. "And Sirius... Sirius would still be here."

"I don't have any clue what you're talking about... But if this Voldemort is as powerful as you say, he would have found someone to bring him back. Wormtail's probably not the only one who could do it. And Sirius? Isn't Sirius that godfather of yours... what happened to him?" Dudley sounded anxious, almost scared again, as if worried that Harry would explode with anger once again.

Harry sighed heavily. "Sirius... I'm not sure I'm ready for that yet, Dudley..."

Dudley frowned, but didn't press the matter.

Harry closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples. Suddenly there was a creak from the doorway as Petunia stuck her head in. "Boys? Lunch is ready."

Harry nodded and got up, walking past Aunt Petunia and down the stairs.

Dudley turned to his mother, who was wearing the most shocked and frightened expression he'd ever seen on her face. "You heard it all?" Dudley asked.

She nodded, still looking afraid.

"Good." Dudley said, quickening his pace to the kitchen table to sit next to his cousin.

The next morning found Harry in bed again, with the same Defense book, trying to read the same page, trying to block out the same thoughts. This time, though, when his aunt knocked on the door, he was expecting it.

He rolled out of bed and walked over to the door, opening it. "Morning, Aunt Petunia," he said.

"Good morning, Harry," she answered warmly, stepping out of the way so he could go down the stairs.

He started down the stairs with her on his heels. Stepping into the kitchen, Harry was surprised to see a table set for two. "Where are Dudley and Uncle Vernon?" he asked.

She shrugged. "It's Saturday. They have wrestling matches almost every week."

"Even during the summer?" Harry asked, sitting down.

Petunia nodded and picked up his plate, putting pancakes and sausage on it for him with a piece of toast. "I usually eat by myself every Saturday. It'll be nice to have some company."

"Mm," Harry murmured affirmatively, watching her set the plate in front of him. After a few moments he said, "Er... Aunt Petunia... why are you doing this?"

She looked up from her own plate and asked, "Doing what, Harry?"

"Being... different, acting different to me." He winced. He'd almost said 'being nice'. For some reason, he doubted that would have went over well.

"Because," she said defensively, "you saved my son's life."

Harry nodded slowly, still watching her. "Yes... but I also endangered it."

She stared at him. "That's what Vernon says. But you could have left him. After the way we've treated you... you could have left Dudley there, let those... those things get him, but you didn't. Even though we were all nasty to you... you still saved him. Why?"

Harry looked down at his plate. "Do you think I would have been able to live with myself if I hadn't? I couldn't do that to anybody..."

Petunia dropped her fork and looked into Harry's eyes. "Every year you come back from that school looking worse... every year something hurts you. And now... now I know what it is... and I'm sorry, Harry. I really am."

Harry stared at her, at the tears that remained unshed in her eyes. Remembering everything, he felt tears rise in his own. "Dudley left the door open a crack..." he said slowly, remembering. "You heard it."

She nodded. "I'm sorry for listening in, but I didn't know what else to do. I'm sorry. But... Harry... why... what happened to your godfather?"

Harry sighed, pushing a sausage around his plate.

Finally, "I killed him."

Petunia started. "What?" Had she misheard?

"I killed him," Harry repeated. "I thought I was going to save him... but he had to come and save me... then Lestrange... she killed him... the Cruciatus... he's gone... my fault..."

His aunt gaped at him. "But... but if she killed him, how did you?"

"Because he was coming because of ME! He left the house because of ME! If I hadn't-" sob "-if I hadn't-hadn't left the castle-if I had just used the mirror, like he told me to-and Snape! Snape should have SAID SOMETHING! That-that BASTARD!" And Harry broke down, dropping his fork and letting the tears fall.

Petunia jumped up and went to comfort him. "Harry-Harry, dear... it wasn't your fault... calm down... please, calm down..."

Suddenly a loud, annoyed screech startled them both. Harry looked up at the owl on the table, realizing with surprise that he was crumpled on the floor being comforted by his newly-reformed aunt. Hedwig stood impatiently, waiting for Harry to retrieve the letter from her leg.

Harry stood slowly, disentangling from Petunia and reaching for the bird. Hedwig nipped affectionately at his fingers as he untied the parchment. Unrolling it quickly and pressing it against the tabletop, he was shocked to see Dumbledore's loopy scrawl. He had been expecting an angry letter from Hermione...

Harry -

I'm disappointed with you, but I'm sure you know that already. The loss of Sirius is the loss of a friend, not a reason to lose more. Hermione, Luna, Ron, Ginny, and Neville wish to help you, they do not want to be brushed aside like yesterdays mail-which is exactly what you're doing to them. However, I have some news for you that you may find to be quite important. I'll be visiting you in a few moments. Be prepared.

Regards,

Albus Dumbledore

Harry crumpled the parchment with an angry grunt and threw it at the garbage can in the corner.

"Who was that from?" his aunt asked quietly from where she sat on the floor.

"Albus Dumbledore," Harry spat.

"The one-the one that brought you here?"

Harry nodded and offered Petunia a hand that she gratefully took, helping her up. Then he sat heavily in a chair. "He's coming. In a few minutes, it said." He wiped his eyes and cursed himself for losing control. "He said he has 'important news'."

"He's coming? Here?"

Harry nodded. "What will the neighbors think?"

His aunt snorted. Then she wiped her own eyes and sat across from Harry at the table. "We should clean up, since we're expecting company," she said distantly, staring at the plate of pancakes.

Harry shrugged. "Dumbledore would probably love to sit and eat pancakes. He has a thing for sweets, though, so I'd hide the syrup."

Petunia smiled.

Then there was a knock at the door. Harry let out a deep breath and stood.

"No," his aunt said, "I'll get it."

Harry shrugged again and sunk back into his seat. From where he was sitting, he could hear his aunt open the door and say, "Come in," then the friendly reply from Professor Dumbledore of, "Where's Harry?" then a smooth, "In the kitchen," but what he wasn't expecting was the blur of blue and red and brown that shot through the kitchen door and launched itself at him, quickly followed by a loud 'SLAP!' and a stinging in his cheek.

"Ow!" he exclaimed. Moments later, when his vision blurred, he saw an angry Hermione glaring at him, her breathing heavy. "What was that for?"

"'WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!' ARE YOU INSANE?!" She slapped him again, using the back of her hand. "How DARE you reply to me like that? I just want to HELP you, Harry! Why do you have to go and-to go and-and be such a bloody PRAT?!"

Harry stared at her in shock, then his attention turned to the two adults in the doorway, one-strangely enough-wearing navy blue slacks and dress shoes with a button-up robin's egg blue shirt while looking serenely at him, and the other looking at him with her eyebrow raised.

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore," he said.

"Normally, Hermione, you would probably have to be punished for violence and language... thankfully, we are not in school, and these are special circumstances."

: She shot him a small glare-something Harry was surprised to see-before turning back to Harry. "I hope you're happy," she said harshly, before sitting down in a kitchen chair.

Petunia ushered Dumbledore over to a chair and asked, "Would you like some pancakes, Mr. Dumbledore? I'm sorry, but we were in the middle of breakfast."

"No, thank you, that's quite all right. I had a rather large breakfast up at the school. Hermione, would you like some?"

She shook her head. "No, thanks."

Petunia shrugged and sat back down in her own seat.

"What did you need, Professor?" Harry asked tiredly.

Dumbledore frowned at him. "Well, Harry, the first thing was your actions against your friends-"

"I know, I know, I need to play nice. Was there something else?"

Dumbledore met his eyes, not twinkling in the slightest. Harry could feel the telltale prickling at the edge of his mind. Harry put up what weak shields he had been able to create. "Sir- stay out of my head."

Narrowing his eyes minutely, Dumbledore obliged.

"What was it you needed, sir?" Harry asked, picking up his fork again and pushing around the sausage.

"Due to your-special circumstances, I was able to pressure the Ministry into allowing you to use underage magic." He took a vial out of his pocket-how did he do that? Harry wondered-and handed it to Harry. "You just have to take this potion."

Harry fidgeted with the potion and passed it between his hands. Suddenly a suspicion came to mind... "Sir?" he asked. "Does the ministry know about this at all?"

Dumbledore looked at Harry, surprised. "How do you know that, Harry?"

"I didn't," Harry said, downing the potion. "But I'm assuming that whatever this potion is, it'll make me untraceable...?"

"Something like that..." Dumbledore answered evasively. "But rest assured, they won't know."

Harry nodded and handed the vial back to Dumbledore. "Alright... anything else?"

"Harry," the Headmaster said seriously, "I want you to practice this summer, as much as you can. It is really important that you be able to defend yourself, should a Death Eater or Voldemort ever get to you. And carry your wand at all times."

Harry nodded. "Of course..."

"There is one more thing, as well, Harry..." Dumbledore said. "I will be providing you with books that you may read, study, and practice with. I suggest that you use my leniency well, and do not abuse it. I am putting my trust in you. If the Ministry was to find out, we'd all be in big trouble with the laws."

Harry nodded again. With a burst of flame, Fawkes appeared above the table, carrying the strings of a package in his beak, startling Petunia immensely.

Dumbledore smiled. "That'll be those books now," he said, taking the package from the phoenix and handing it to Harry.

Harry accepted it graciously and set it aside, deciding to wait until later. "Thank you, Professor."

The Headmaster nodded and turned to Petunia. "And thank you, Petunia. I'm glad you've had a change of heart, and it does make all the difference. With the way things are going with the Wizarding world these days, Harry needs all the support he can get. I'm happy to see that his home life isn't as bad as it has been in the past." His icy blue eyes pierced into her own.

"Uh-thank-thank you," she stammered, "I think."

"That is all, for today, Harry," Dumbledore said, standing. "I will be keeping in touch, though, rest assured."

Harry nodded.

Hermione stood as well, and Harry ushered them to the door. Dumbledore glided right out, but Hermione paused in the doorway.

"You really hurt me, Harry," she said softly. "Saying that you finally found someone that loved you... so, what, do Ron and I not count? You're like family to us, Harry, but when we love you, we don't count? That hurts me, it hurts a lot."

Harry found himself struggling to come up with an answer for that. By the time he stammered out, "Of course-of course you count, Hermione," she and Dumbledore were already halfway down the driveway.

As he turned to go back into the house, Harry could have sworn he heard the old man say, "Hermione, dear, should you really have slapped him?"