Harry Potter and Gaining Momentum

"First off, Harry, I just want to commend you on your recent actions -- not only towards our cause, but also for the sake of the overall care of the Wizarding world. Many people tend to overlook the needs of the minority when thinking of the bigger picture," Albus said in praise, just after they appeared in Diagon Alley.

Harry nodded his acceptance. After a thoughtful pause, he finally explained his feelings. "I feel obligated," he said shortly. Albus looked intrigued at this. He peered over his glasses at Harry expectantly.

"Care to expand on that, Harry?" Albus finally asked. Harry glanced at the old wizard long enough to catch his eye and then looked away. He knew Dumbledore thought he probably felt obligated because of the war, the Prophecy, or even perhaps because he was the one who got Fudge booted out of the Ministry; but actually, it had nothing to do with any of this. The truth was, even if Harry did not come out on top when it came to the final battle with Riddle, he believed that he'd feel better dying as long as he knew that he had at least contributed something, no matter how small, to the Wizarding world.

"The way I see it, the wizarding world fails to keep a werewolf from suffering his initial bite, so it's our obligation to take care of the matter after the fact. We, the wizarding world, prefer to stay ignorant. We like to believe that what we don't know doesn't bother us, and what we can't see won't hurt us. By doing this, we tend to look only at the better part of our institution, and turn a blind eye to the slum. Take Diagon Alley, for instance," Harry said, waving a hand before him. "If it were attacked, we'd protect what we considered most valuable: Gringotts and the main drag. But we'd probably leave Knockturn Alley unprotected. Sure, we might station guards at the entrance; they would be there to keep people from Diagon Alley from going in. But in doing this, we'd also be keeping those from Knockturn Alley from getting out, into Diagon Alley -- however unintended that was. How many people do you think would care if this happened?" Harry asked rhetorically; Dumbledore just nodded, so Harry continued: "So we protect what is good, or what we perceive as good -- and valuable, and leave the 'slum' to fend for itself. We stay ignorant... blissfully."

"That was quite profound, Harry. I've seen this myself, of course; but to actually hear someone else say it, to voice it, makes me feel as if I've not been as ignored as I thought. People, not just wizards and witches, can be very narrow-minded. We like to follow what the voice of authority tells us, and ignore the person that stands outside the crowd and protests. By doing so, many miss a side of the argument that could be very important," Dumbledore said with a tinge of pride in his voice.

"Yes, I saw what happened when Fudge ignored your advice on taking the Dementors from Azkaban. They too are a minority; they even could have been useful to us. We could have even relocated them somewhere else; but because we ignored them and just expected them to continue what they were doing, we lost them when a better option came along -- for them, that is."

"Exactly. But you must understand, Harry, you cannot always please everyone. There will be cases where both you and the opposing party will have to come to a compromise; I actually hope that most cases are taken care of in this manner. Sometimes a middle ground is the only way to settle things. Again, take the Dementors, for instance. Had we stationed them as guards at a larger prison, like the one I had in mind for all Western Europe, as opposed to one just for the British Isles, there would have been enough souls for the Dementors to feed from, and the urge to flee to Voldemort wouldn't have been so great. This is what I mean by middle ground. In doing this, if we would have shared just one prison, it would have also made for stronger connections between us and other ministries, and ties to other peoples, such as the French and Italians; and the threat of Voldemort could have been reduced due to joint action between the ministries," Dumbledore explained.

"So why wasn't this prison ever built?"

"After the first war with Lord Voldemort, everyone, as you said before, turned a blind eye. They convinced themselves that he was really dead, and that their society could again turn away and not have to worry about such things as prisons. They concentrated on building the Ministry back up, and on finding replacements for all that was lost during the war. No one wanted to think that it might happen again. They didn't want to believe that the wizarding world would again be under such an attack," he explained.

"Blind eye to the 'slum'," Harry muttered. "Build the valuable back up and leave the underprivileged to do for themselves, so that when Voldemort did rise again, it would be easier to take the slum back, shape it to his need, and then attack what was valuable by using it as a weapon."

"Nail on the head, Harry," Dumbledore commented gravely.

"Yes, ignorance is bliss -- until it turns around and bites you on the arse," Harry said sarcastically. Albus actually laughed at this.

"Yes, and while we're touching on politics, I must also tell you that while the Muggles seem to discriminate between those in government and the common folk, so does the Wizarding world. In this world, just like in the Muggle world, you have to be someone to be recognized by the voice of authority. I had to defeat Grindelwald to gain my stature within the tight circles of the Ministry. Money also comes into play here a lot, too. Those who have the financial means to keep the government well-funded, don't need to actually do anything to be well-known.

"Take the Malfoys, for example: you've seen the pull that Lucius Malfoy had in the ministry; I shouldn't have to tell you that galleons were probably exchanged for stalled bills, and probably even vetoed laws. Umbridge herself, as you saw last semester, favored Draco simply because his family had plenty of gold to spread around, and some of that went to the Ministry. Dolores jumped at the opportunity to have young Draco on her little squad. She was no doubt hoping that word would get back to his father, who would make a nice contribution to the ministry, and thus give Fudge a stronger push to keep her at Hogwarts."

"Why is it all so twisted?" Harry asked, floored at the small revelation.

"Politics will always be underhanded and twisted, Harry. Many see it as merely a means to an end; but the majority of office holders see it as power. Fudge was the best example of this. I, myself, would sometimes be willing to twist a few arms if it were going to loosen a law or rewrite others; I've even done so a couple of times. But, just as every friend has a foe, so too every action has a reaction. Thus, I chose to keep my hand out of drastic politics unless absolutely necessary. I tend to keep a cleaner conscience this way. Though, bear in mind, it will always be beneficial to know the laws and how the government works. Intervention is sometimes necessary," Dumbledore advised.

"Sometimes like a knife in the heart," Harry said sarcastically, referring to all the laws Lucius probably stalled or totally put off with his gracious contributions. Harry had a fleeting feeling that a lot of these had to do with werewolves. Draco seemed terrified of them.

"Well put, my boy, well put," Albus commented, grinning. He clapped Harry on the shoulder like a grandfather would. "What do you say we actually get into the bank? It's looking like rain," Albus said, looking up. Harry nodded.

Throughout their conversation, they had turned to a more leisurely stroll, and had even paused to speak. As they picked their pace back up, Harry finally took the time to actually look around at the Alley. Harry had the slight urge to snort at the reality of what they'd just discussed. There were witches and wizards scurrying about, getting their evening chores or last minute shopping done for the day. No one was alert, with a wand at hand or even in close view. They were ignorant... they chose to be. Just before Christmas there had been many attacks. Though not many were made upon the Wizarding world, there were more than enough on the Muggles. Thousands were lost, too, when Voldemort ordered the Dementors into the Muggle primary schools to suck souls from the defenseless children. But, of course, this didn't affect those in the Wizarding world; so therefore, it was no bark off their wands. This greatly angered Harry.

"May I help you, Headmaster, Mr. Potter?" the Goblin at the desk inquired after he noticed Albus and Harry had just stepped up to the counter.

"Yes, I'd like to give authorization for a credit account at the Hogsmeade Apothecary for M.I.S.S.E.D.; and I'd like to open a new business account," Harry said.

The goblin looked slightly surprised for a moment before stammering, "Of, o-of course s-sir." He started shuffling papers he apparently had been working on, and set them aside in a neat stack. "If you'll just sign this, I'll fill the rest of it out later. It will give the authorization you requested." Harry took the paper and looked it over quickly, to see it was only a form of transaction, before he signed it with the offered quill and handed it back.

"Thank you."

"Of course," the goblin answered, seemingly getting his emotions back in order. "May I ask the name of the new business?"

"Er... well, I hadn't really thought about it. How about... P.P.P. ... Potter's Potion Productions?" he asked, looking up at Dumbledore, who looked thoughtful for a moment before he nodded that he agreed on the name.

"And what will this business do?"

"Research, development, and production of potions. It will hopefully be headed by Potions Master Severus Snape, but I haven't approached him on the subject yet," Harry said sheepishly. The goblin nodded and wrote something down.

"And would you like to put funds into the account ahead of time?"

"Yes; one million galleons should be sufficient until it gets off the ground. Tell me, do you happen to have a real estate division?" Harry asked out of curiosity. He knew there were banks that dealt in real estate in the Muggle world, but didn't know how it worked in the Wizarding world.

"Yes. We can show you some different locations, or choose one on your behalf. We would of course need a detailed description of what was needed and such, but the process is relatively short and easy," the goblin answered. Harry thought for a second. He really didn't have time to go shopping, and to Harry it didn't really matter where it was located; it was only going to be used as a research facility.

"Go ahead and choose on my behalf. I'll need a very spacious building that can be separated into divisions, so that each potions master will have his own office and work place. I'll need store-rooms, and a main office for Severus," Harry rattled off, as the goblin wrote furiously.

"Supplies?"

"Oh, you do that also?" Harry asked, now completely floored. He never realized that Gringotts had such extensive service.

"We would make a special effort on your behalf, Mr. Potter," the goblin said in a whisper. Harry smiled and nodded in thanks.

"Very nice grade cauldrons, stirring spoons, and work tables. A desk for each office space, as well as chairs. They'll need ingredients and vials and such. Would it be too much to just ask whomever does the purchasing to estimate how much of each ingredient and what ingredients to buy? It would sure save Severus some time. Perhaps a floo should be set up for fast travel to the Apothecary. And you may as well set up accounts with local Apothecaries while you're at it. You know what... just do what needs to be done, and I'll pay you for your time. Make it nice, spacious and comfortable," Harry summed up, a bit embarrassed that he hadn't thought this through further. He could have sworn the Goblin grinned at him.

"As you wish, Mr. Potter."

"I trust," Dumbledore piped up, seeing the grinning goblin, "that you'll do young Mr. Potter right, after all his strife with his previous company." He looked over his glasses to give the goblin a pointed look.

"Of course... we'll keep records of all purchases. Will payroll be taken out of this account, or would you like to set up a sub-account for that?"

"All out of the same account. I'll also be asking Severus to keep track of payroll and purchasing. I guess he could hire someone to do that for him... it doesn't really matter to me. I'm just interested in getting good potions masters who will research an alternative for the Wolfsbane potion," Harry started telling the goblin, but ended more to himself.

"Well, all seems to be in order then. Just sign here... here... and here; and we'll finish the rest." Harry did as he was told and signed the three different forms. One was the real estate form, one was for the purchasing, and the last was another authorization for a credit account at the Apothecaries. He gave the forms and quill back to the goblin before he and Dumbledore finally made to leave.

After making it out onto the cobblestone street again, Harry and Dumbledore reverted back to their leisurely pace.

"Is there anywhere else you needed to visit while we're here?" Albus asked Harry. Harry nodded, but didn't say where he was going. Nor did Dumbledore ask; he just followed. Harry turned around the next slight bend and made his way to a familiar old shop with a sign just above the door that read: 'Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC.' He walked in to find Mr. Ollivander sitting behind his counter, whittling a stick of red wood.

"Ah, Headmaster, Mr. Potter! To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked in his strange way.

"I came to donate once more," Harry said, waltzing up to the counter. Mr. Ollivander's eyes grew wide at this.

"Another phoenix feather?" he said almost greedily.

"Yes, but it's not from a Fire Phoenix, but a Snow Phoenix. It was given to me recently, and I really have no use for it; so I'm donating it to you for a special wand," Harry lied smoothly -- maybe too smoothly.

"Snow Phoenix?"

"Yes; because of my form, I can relate to other phoenixes a bit easier. One gifted me with one of late, and I really have no use for it myself. I have a feeling that by the time I'm done donating, you may very well have a feather from a Treasure Phoenix, too. I've had plans to meet this phoenix, but have not as of yet." In truth, Harry had yet to be able to turn into the Treasure Phoenix. This slightly discouraged him; after all, he had received the gifts from the phoenix forms.

"Do you have any special request for this wand?" Ollivander asked as he took the feather that Harry had pre-plucked. Harry shook his head.

"Just make sure that the wood is strong. Perhaps even use the Osage Orange wood again," he said, and Ollivander just nodded absently as he stroked and examined the feather.

"Is there anything you wanted in return, Mr. Potter?" he asked. He was looking at Harry warily, as if he feared the price was going to be much too high.

"Only one request: you charge the fee of making the wand to me, and let the chosen person have the wand for the normal price," Harry said. Ollivander nodded vigorously before he slipped the feather into a glass case and under the counter. "Have you finished the last wand yet?"

"Oh, yes, Mr. Potter. Spectacular specimen it is. Would you like to have a gander?"

"Please," Harry said. He was very interested in what the wand looked like.

Ollivander walked out from behind the counter and across the store to a small glass case, waist high but only about four feet wide. He walked around the back of it and muttered something, pointing his wand, before he opened it and took a felt case out. He opened it as if it encased the most valuable of diamonds. Inside was one of the most beautiful wands Harry had ever seen. It was made of Osage Orange wood, of course, and lacquered. With the light lacquer on it, it made the grain appear red. It was truly beautiful.

"May I?" Harry asked, reaching for the wand. Ollivander glanced at Harry for a second as he hesitated.

"Of course," he said, shaking his head a bit. He looked to be trying to shake off the idea of Harry stealing the precious object. Harry picked up the wand and rolled it around in his fingertips. It was definitely strong, Harry could not only see, but also sense that. The only thing that surprised Harry about the wand was how heavy it was.

"Is it the wood that makes it this heavy?"

"Oh, no, Mr. Potter," he said, whispering. "There is a small diamond in the core of the wand, just above the feather. It sits between two gold rods, which accounts for the weight. Due to the power of the feather, its magic was too wild; so I had to put in a jewel to make the focus stronger. It will only choose a strong wizard, that much can be assured."

"Let us hope that wizard doesn't succumb to the dark," Albus said, speaking for the first time.

"Indeed, Headmaster... indeed," Ollivander said gravely. That was the first real sign of emotion he'd ever seen the old man show. When Ollivander spoke again, he was looking at Harry as if he weren't sure he should. "Mr. Potter?"

"Yes?" Harry said, giving the man an odd look.

"There have been... rumors... that you've successfully forged a staff," Ollivander said hesitantly. Harry smiled at this.

"News gets around fast. Granted, it's been done since the day I got the materials; but I never thought anyone outside Hogwarts would know," Harry said, amused.

"Well, I'm sure if you think it through, the answer as to why anyone would know would be quite evident," the headmaster spoke up. Harry just quirked an eyebrow at him. "You must always remember that the walls of Hogwarts have ears and eyes." Harry actually laughed while he nodded, agreeing.

"So... if it's not too much trouble, could you bring it in some time for me to inspect? It's been so long since I've seen one. Albus here would never listen to me when I tried to persuade him to forge one; always insisted he felt better with a small wand."

"Oh, I can show it to you now," Harry said, waving a hand and letting the ring on his finger morph into his beautiful, phoenix-themed staff.

"Oh, Mr. Potter, this is quite impressive!" Ollivander said, walking around Harry and the staff. Harry noticed that he didn't reach for it as everyone else did; wise choice. "Charms?"

"Several, including the morphing and signature," Harry said shortly. He liked his staff, and didn't mind other seeing it; but knowing exactly what charms were on it was a somewhat private matter to Harry.

"Wise boy. You never tell anyone what kind of charms you've put on your staff. There are ways to take them off... no matter how powerful they are. And may I say, yours looks like one of the most powerful I've seen. Sturdy, but with a fluid grace," Ollivander rattled off. The headmaster was nodding to agree.

"Well, Harry, we really must be going if you are to start those potions tonight," Albus said. Harry waved his hand again and let the staff morph back into the ring on his hand.

***

That day out had occurred two weeks ago, and Harry had yet to take his mind off the new wand and what it would look like. He felt strangely connected to it after he had touched it. It was as if a part of him longed to have the wand... to be complete. He wasn't sure why, but Harry was sure it was because a grand amount of his magic was in that feather.

After they arrived back at the Headmaster's office, they'd gone over summer and seventh-year plans. Dumbledore had been owling friends, acquaintances and colleagues of his around the world that he was bringing to Hogwarts to help train Harry. His training would start this summer, and wouldn't end until Albus saw fit, or until he had to fight Voldemort his last time. From what Dumbledore had told him, not one person had yet refused their services to Harry.

Harry would be apprenticing under eleven different witches and wizards:

1: Mr. Clyde Clause, who would help Harry hone his scanning gift and his gift to see magic.

2: Madam Miranda Goshawk, who would be teaching Harry every spell she knew, which was a lot -- considering that she had written every Standard Book of Spells that Harry had ever had to purchase from Flourish and Blotts. She was also the leading scholar in Defense Magic, and would be teaching Harry scholar-level Defense Against the Dark Arts.

3: Mr. Adalbert Waffling, who was going to be teaching Harry the in-depth theory of magic. This was another author of one of his textbooks, Magical Theory.

4: Severus Snape was going to be teaching Harry potions, of course; Harry already knew that.

5: Madam Miranda Waltz was going to be teaching Harry how to dance in different styles. Harry scoffed at this when he first heard; he hated dancing. But Dumbledore pointed out that dancing would teach him timing, useful stepping for strategy, and agility when dueling.

6: Mr. Burk Durkin, who would be Harry's personal trainer. Not only was he expected to be able to beef Harry up, but also teach him how to wield the Gryffindor blade he had pulled out of the Sorting Hat in his second year. This aspect excited Harry. Sword fighting was a nearly lost art in the Wizarding world.

7: Beulah Beckman, who was the current world dueling champion, would be instructing Harry how to duel, and in the different dueling styles.

8: Nathan Hopkiss, who would be teaching Harry every language he knew, which was thirty-four, going on thirty-six. Harry didn't understand why he needed to know this at first, but Albus had explained that with Harry being thrown into politics, he'd need to know the languages.

9: Chan Yono, who would be teaching Harry magical focus. This would help him with his wandless magic.

10: Professor Dumbledore himself, who would be teaching Harry further advanced work in transfiguration, now that he'd finished with Professor McGonagall.

11: Aberforth Dumbledore, who would be teaching Harry wizarding law, culture and ethics.

Not all of the training was to begin in the summer holidays -- only those Albus thought Harry could afford to concentrate less on. Mr. Durkin, Beulah Beckman, Albus, Snape, Madam Miranda Goshawk and Chan Yono would all be brought to Hogwarts during the summer to live, and would visit Harry at his home for practice. The others, Aberforth, Madam Miranda Waltz, Mr. Adalbert Waffling, Mr. Hopkiss, and Mr. Clause Clyde would all be waiting at Hogwarts when the term started. It was going to be a year to remember. Harry thought it odd how seventh year was supposed to be hard anyway -- but on top of that, Harry had eleven extra lessons! Albus explained that he'd be seeing every instructor every day for two hours. This was not only because he felt Harry was running out of time, but also because Harry would still be expected to sit in and take his N.E.W.T.s at the end of next year. Harry quickly realized that he'd only be getting four hours of sleep every day, and stared in shock at Albus; but the twinkling elder just grinned.

"As Headmaster of Hogwarts and Chief member of the Wizengamot, I've been given... shall we say... privileges, to make sure you have all the time you need to train and rest," Albus said, twinkling madly.

"A time turner, sir?"

"Oh no, Harry. Those are only used for small cases, such as those like Miss Granger's a few years back. No, you will be living every day twice. There is a very obscure spell that the ministry keeps under close guard. It allows a person to change any event he or she desires; but the limit is one day back in history. For example, if I weren't comfortable with you donating that feather to Ollivander, I could use the spell to go back and relive it -- and in doing so, refuse to let you go to Diagon Alley at all. So you see, the difference between this and a time turner is that you don't merely go back in time; you do it all over. And by the way, regrettably, it's impossible to undo a death this way. Once a soul is gone from this Earth, they cannot return," Dumbledore explained. Harry thought for a few moments before he finally spoke.

"Won't this confuse the instructors? I mean, if I relive every day, then they'll teach me the same thing twice, won't they?" he asked.

"There is a companion spell that I'm using on them as well. Let them handle it as they will, Harry," Albus said, so as not to divulge too much information to Harry. Harry presumed that if Dumbledore was keeping something such as a spell away from Harry, then surely it was of utmost importance that the spells not get out. Harry gave Albus a nod to show he understood.

"Sir, what about my friends?" Harry asked. He was training them right now to be able to take care of themselves, but it didn't seem fair that they would be left out.

"Harry, after next year your magical skill will be at an unimaginable level. You will be able to protect your friends. But, as to your real worry, I think most of them will be more than relieved that they will not have your training schedule. You may not be that fond of me after next year yourself," Albus said with a small chuckle.

"Just keep reminding me that it's all for the best," Harry said, grinning. Albus had been on the wrong end of Harry's temper more than once now; and it seemed as if, by the way Albus was speaking, he expected to be in the same position again.

"Always, Harry; always," Albus said, nodding. "But --" he said in a more grave voice, "this is not the whole reason I wanted to speak with you, Harry."

"Someone was attacked." It was a statement, not a question. Anyone that could actually read Dumbledore's face would know that when he took on that face, when his eyes stopped twinkling, or when his voice sounded as worn as old leather, something was wrong.

"I'm afraid we've seen our first series of attacks within the Wizarding world. I found it ironic earlier when you were speaking of it; but I chose not to tell you while we were out. I wanted you to be able to carry out your errands without your mind being clouded with worry," he said.

"Who?"

"Dennis and Colin's parents were attacked last night; they lost a father. They were the only ones from your house. Two Muggle-borns from Hufflepuff both lost some of their immediate family. One was Justin Finch-Fletchley; he lost his mother. The other was a second year named Rose Zeller; she lost a younger sibling and an older Muggle brother that were both home while her parents were out. She'll be an only child now."

"All Muggle-borns. Was it this way in the last war?"

"It was worse. Pure- and Half-bloods were killed merely for believing that witches and wizards of pure blood were not supreme. This is only the beginning, Harry. The real terror is about to begin. Soon, I daresay, we'll be seeing mass attacks on important institutions of wizarding society, and prominent families will start losing loved ones. Most likely, though, are the disappearances. In the last war we were losing Ministry officials faster than we could replace them. It was his way of destabilizing the Ministry. We can expect this before the mass attacks; he'll first want to weaken his largest threat, and make it vulnerable.

"No one from Ravenclaw lost anyone?" Harry asked. Dumbledore looked at him intently for a moment before answering.

"We lost our Britain-Japanese diplomat. His wife was a Muggle, though his first wife wasn't. Cho Chang's father was lost."

***

Harry was sitting on the shore of the lake, deep in thought, and wondering where his relationship with Draco was going to go. He really cared for Draco; but at the same time, so much was at stake when it came to their relationship. Even thought the majority of the school knew they were no longer enemies, they didn't know the full extent of the relationship. The only people who did were Harry's close friends, and the majority of the staff.

Madam Pomfrey had indeed told the Headmaster that Pansy would be infertile for the next three years. Pansy was absolutely devastated, and walked around much of the time crying on one of her dorm-mates' shoulders. Draco had decided that he would act as if he had come into his heritage, and had chosen Harry to be his mate. Pansy couldn't argue with that, because she couldn't give him a child. The only part of this plan that scared Harry was the part where everyone was going to know. He didn't mind so much that everyone would know; it was what everyone would do if they knew.

Harry got up from the thawing ground and dusted off his bum before removing his cloak. The sun was beating down early this year, and cloaks were being put back into school trunks sooner than usual. It was only mid-April, and spring looked to be imitating summertime. He prayed it wouldn't be another scorching summer at Privet Drive. Draco had decided to stay with Severus for the summer, because Dumbledore was putting up wards over the Snape manor, where they'd be staying some of the time. The majority of their holiday would be spent in the castle, which was heavily warded anyway.

Petunia had sent a letter by floo for Harry, by way of Remus. It asked if he would return to Privet Drive for the summer. He had intended to anyway; but apparently she thought he was going to be staying at Grimmauld Place instead. He had every intention of renewing the wards and protection around his aunt's house for her protection anyway; but it was good to know he was wanted.

He had had a phoenix-burning last week, and it was the first time he'd brought himself out of the transformation by himself. Dumbledore predicted, with his training configured into this, that he'd have another one about July or early August. Harry didn't really know how to feel about a burning at Privet Drive; but Dumbledore had promised extra protection just in case the protection around the residence was affected by it.

His friends had thrown themselves, in practically all their spare time, into trying to find out what the blue rune on Harry's back was. They were determined to find out before the end of the term. Harry really didn't care; after all, it wasn't as if it were doing him any harm not knowing. Luna didn't seem to be putting a lot of effort into the research, and usually ended up showing them runes that she could see animals in. They eventually stopped telling her they were going to the library to do research. Harry found this funny, but never said anything. Leave it to Luna, he thought. Harry actually figured it was from his mother's side of the family somehow, because of remarks his aunt had made in the past, but didn't think too hard on it. Perhaps now that Petunia was a bit looser around magic, he'd get some information out of her this summer.

Dudley was now allowed to drive; and because he was almost of age, Smeltings was now allowing him to commute from home to school every day. He was beginning to fall out of his stage as Little Whinging protector, and had even gotten a girlfriend named Anna. From the letter Petunia had sent him, Anna was a lovely girl, just right for her Duddikins. Harry wondered what type of person would date his cousin. He was really overweight, and very bossy. Harry hoped that the fact that he had a girlfriend meant these negative attributes were changing. If they were together much longer, Petunia planned on telling the girl about Harry, so that when he came home from school he wouldn't surprise her by accidentally doing magic in her presence. It warmed his heart a bit to know that Petunia wasn't afraid of telling the girl. Sure, she was probably leery about doing so; but she wasn't trying to keep it hush-hush any longer either.

Harry made it to the castle and walked into the Entrance Hall to find it half-crowded with students. He immediately wondered why they were all gathered there, and why they weren't out enjoying the evening weather.

"What's going on?" he asked a girl who looked about second-year. She was short, and had her blond locks tied up neatly in a ponytail.

"A duel broke out in the Great Hall. Professor Sinistra and Professor Snape are trying to get it under control," she half-whispered to him, trying to see around those in front of him.

"Do you know who it was between?"

"Gryffindor and Slytherin, of course," she said, turning and looking at him. She gave a gasp when she realized whom he was, and started to stammer an apology; but Harry shook his head that it wasn't necessary, and strode between the students who had gathered to try and help stop the fray.

He made it to the front to see Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Luna, Seamus, Dean and Draco all having it out with Pansy, Millicent, Crabbe, Goyle, and about ten others Harry didn't know. It was immediately evident -- to Harry, at least -- that his friends weren't doing nearly as much damage as they could have. Truth be told, it looked more than anything like they were just trying to defend themselves. Snape was unconscious, and Professor Sinistra just kept yelling for them to stop, and to cease fire. Neither side was listening. Bringing his staff out, Harry walked a little ways into the room before letting it morph into its true form.

"Magicum arceo (ward magic)," Harry muttered, while bouncing the butt of his staff on the stone floor of the hall. All magic within the hall stopped. Both sides were left looking like idiots, as they were pointing, flicking, and yelling without anything happening. Letting go of his staff, he muttered again and it turned back into the ring that it usually appeared as. He strode forward and rounded on his friends.

"What are you doing?!" he yelled. They all had the good grace to look sheepish -- aside from Luna, who looked unfazed.

"Well, er, they were talking about you," Ron said, casting a vicious glare at the Slytherins.

"And?"

"What do you mean, and? They were talking about you and Draco! So we told them to mind their own business. Then they started throwing hexes, so we threw some back!" Ron said, getting angry.

"Wasn't there any way you could have avoided the situation?" Harry snapped. None of them answered, and Harry stepped closer to the small group. "I did not teach you to do wandless magic and make your spells stronger with Occlumency, just to have you battling it out with other houses. It was for protection against Death Eaters," he whispered fiercely.

"Some of them are probably Death Eaters," Ginny said nastily, as she looked at the opposing group.

"Regardless, they are students first. Hermione, I'm really disappointed in you. You should have given out detentions before you threw even one hex!"

"I know," she said guiltily.

"And Ron, I know you have a fuse about a millimeter long, but you should have been right there behind her helping. Not a hex should have been thrown. Ginny, Luna and Draco, all of you are prefects for your houses too!" Harry was shouting now, and getting dangerously closer to losing his temper. It infuriated him that after all their training, and having developed the ability to control their emotions better with Occlumency, they still ended up in a duel before assessing the situation.

"We're sorry, Harry; we weren't thinking," Hermione began, but Harry cut her off.

"I know you weren't thinking, because I had to stop the duel!" Harry was all-out yelling now. "Do not come to me again asking for extra tuition, because apparently you're going to use it to get into trivial squabbles with members of other houses!" Two windows in the Great Hall shattered, and the ceiling overhead turned a mixture of dark grey and red. It looked as if it were a storm of fire.

"But..."

"But NOTHING!" he shouted at Ron, his eyes flashing gold for a moment. There was more shattering around the hall, and several students screamed.

"Potter!" A new voice cut through his rage. Harry's attention snapped from his friends to his Potions Professor.

"What?" he bit back dangerously.

"Temper," Snape said silkily and curtly. For some odd reason, that seemed to do the trick. It was as if being reminded that he'd lost his temper helped him gain it back. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths while counting. His friends were now cowering away from him, and there were a few first years he could hear crying within the crowd. He felt slightly like a hypocrite: he had just been admonishing them for losing their tempers, and he had lost his. Harry opened his eyes and looked back at Severus.

"Sorry," he said quietly. Snape didn't respond; he only gave Harry a swift nod before moving to the students of his own house to berate them. Harry looked around and saw that in front of the crowd stood Dumbledore and McGonagall. He could tell Dumbledore was holding a magical barrier just in front of the students. He looked at Dumbledore oddly for a moment, before turning back to his friends. "I'm sorry I lost my temper. I guess I felt that you were taking advantage of the help I've given you over the past term. I shouldn't have gotten so mad."

"No harm done, mate," Ron said, trying to sound light; but Harry could tell he was still shaky.

"Sorry I practically called you unworthy of being a prefect," Harry said, looking at Hermione. She tried to shrug casually.

"You were right; we didn't think. It's just that as soon as I heard what they were saying, I was just waiting for one of them to throw a curse," she said.

"What were they saying that was so bad?"

"They were telling Draco that his mate was going to be the death of him at first. In the end, they were practically saying they were going to be the ones handing out that death. I just lost it," she said.

"I guess I should thank you for standing up for Draco and me," Harry said sheepishly.

"No thanks needed; it's what friends do," Ginny piped up.

"Friends also let one another know when they've gone too far," Neville broke in. "We deserved the tongue-lashing."

"So they know now?" he asked looking at Draco. He nodded. Harry ran a hand through his hair. "The Prophet is going to have a field day with this."

"I just couldn't take their swaying anymore. They were constantly trying to get close to me, hoping they were still my mates." Harry nodded in understanding.

"Harry?" A kind voice said from behind him. Harry turned around to see Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore.

"Sir?"

"I was told you put a ward on the Great Hall," Albus mentioned. Harry looked almost embarrassed at this.

"Er... yeah. Students were involved in a magical battle. Professor Snape was already unconscious, and Professor Sinistra was only yelling. I couldn't think of anything else to do to stop them," Harry explained.

"That was not the problem, Harry. I quite agree with your methods. The reason I mentioned this was because I was told you used your staff to do this."

"Yes Sir," Harry said, not really seeing the reason behind the questioning. "Am I not allowed to use the staff?"

"Oh, no, Harry, it's not that," Albus said, glancing at McGonagall. "The fact that you unconsciously tore a staff-created ward down, wordlessly and wandlessly, when you got angry was the reason I asked. You shattered the windows and changed the ceiling," Albus reminded him.

"Oh." Harry looked up to see the ceiling returned to normal.

"I think maybe your training will start at the beginning of the summer, rather than the middle, as I had planned."

"I understand, Sir," Harry said, inclining his head a bit.

"You six will also do well not to get him worked up, or give him a reason to be," McGonagall finally spoke up, looking at the others. They all looked guilty as it was, so the Professor's words didn't really get a reaction, just a varied chorus and echoes of 'Yes, Professor.'

[Latest edit 5-2-04 / David305]