Harry Potter and the Rest of the Story

Harry Potter and the Rest of the Story

Chapter 6 - Dreams and Determination

Fri, 11-Jul-1997

Up ... down ... up ... down. The moderate but steady pace of his now routine morning exercise produced a soothing monotony. And Harry needed soothing more right now than possibly any other time in his life. Could it be true? he thought. No, not yet ... up ... down ... up ... down.

Since his first morning back at Privet Drive this summer, Harry had started a no-frills exercise routine to try to improve his stamina, and to burn off nervous energy and confused emotions. He didn't keep count of the repetitions; only the clock was a measure of his progress. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays he started with pushups; the rest of the week he started with sit-ups. He would steadily do his starting exercise until he couldn't force another rep. Then he'd take a short break, followed by his other exercise until he couldn't move. In the past weeks his breaks had shortened and his exercise sets had lengthened. When the weather was nice, he sometimes jogged around the block in the afternoon until he was too worn out to complete another turn.

But he didn't keep count; he didn't want to think. Well, actually, he did want to think, just not about counting pushups and sit-ups. While he exercised, he would think and plan and wonder and sometimes review spells in his mind. This morning, he was almost afraid to think of anything. His dreams this past night had been both familiar and startlingly different. Up ... down ... up ... down ... take a deep breath and review everything you can remember.

For the first part of the dream, he had been enjoying a rousing game of Quidditch. Soon, the weather deteriorated and Harry was back at the third year Hufflepuff game in the driving rain. As the Dementors gathered below, he heard his mother's voice begging, and shrill laughter, and he was falling in darkness. The falling sensation was interrupted by a jerking sensation behind his navel, and the swirling color that signified an activated portkey enveloped him. He was back in the graveyard with Cedric. A part of his mind that observed from somewhere apart, groaned as he realized that he would have to relive, yet again, Cedric's death and what had followed.

"Kill the spare ..." "Avada Kedavra" ... Cedric's open gray eyes and surprised expression as he lay motionless in death. Then a mist arose, an opalescent mist swirling around him, hiding the horror from his sight. He thought he heard Dumbledore's voice saying, "Remember Cedric Diggory." Then his perspective changed strangely. Instead of being part of a memory-dream in first-person, he was now an observer. It was an odd cross between being in a pensieve, and sitting in the front row of a Muggle movie theater. He saw himself warning Cedric about the dragons in the first task. He saw Cedric suggesting a way to solve the golden egg clue in return ... their repeated encounters during the third task when he sometimes had trouble remembering they were competitors ... the moment when Harry said, "Let's just take it together." ... the shocked look, then joyous grin on Cedric's face ... Cedric helping Harry limp toward the cup. Yes ... that's how I need to remember Cedric.

And Harry felt a comforting presence, the warmth of approval. He finally realized that Hogwarts was somehow diverting his nightmare, and showing him a way past it. She must know everything that happens within the wards, he realized in awe.

The second part of the nightmare then began as he heard, at first, just the sounds of fighting. The Department of Mysteries, Harry-the-observer had realized, bracing himself to relive another death. The mist was fading and he was back in memory. The barking laughter of Sirius Black taunted his opponent, "Come on, you can do better than that!" ... the look of shock on his face as he was hit ... his body curved in a graceful arc as he seemed to fall in slow motion. The beautiful mist rose again, and he heard his godfather's voice as he did the night of the escape with Buckbeak, "We'll see each other again ..." Then Hogwarts gave him images of Snuffles, barking and playing; his godfather's face breaking into it's first true smile when Harry had told him that he did want to come live with him. She even gave him a more faded but happier memory of Sirius from a time longer past, laughing and teasing James and Lily at the wedding reception that had been held in the Great Hall. Thank you, Milady, he thought with bittersweet joy.

Then the mists shifted again and he felt his body stiffening as he fell back into his own memory. Dumbledore's Freezing Charm ... the tower ... oh, please no ... But Harry was back on the tower ... the strange discussion between Dumbledore and Malfoy ... the other Death Eaters showing up to egg Malfoy on ... Snape's appearance ... Dumbledore's pleading whisper, "Severus ... please ..." revulsion and hatred on Snape's face ... an expression of great pain as Snape screamed, "Don't call me coward!" As the mist rose, Hogwarts sent him a snippet of Hagrid's voice saying, "What musta happened was, Dumbledore musta told Snape ter ..." the voice faded. Harry shook his head ... no, she couldn't mean ... What are you trying to tell me?! he mentally screamed as the mist rose again to show him what the castle wanted him to know.

He saw Snape stumbling into Dumbledore's office. It was some time after the headmaster's hand had been injured. "Albus! Oh, Albus I've made a grave error in judgment," he gasped out, distraught as Harry had never seen the snarky professor. "My days are numbered."

Harry watched as Dumbledore quickly poured a glass of brandy for the younger man and settled him on a couch. "Severus, try to calm yourself. Explain to me what has happened, my boy." Harry flinched at the obvious affection the headmaster had for the Death Eater.

"They came to me at Spinner's End ... Narcissa and Bella ... the rat was also there. Narcissa came to beg my help ... I told you about Draco's mission. She begged me to help him, protect him. I said I would. Then she asked for the Unbreakable Vow. Even then, I thought I was safe enough ... I've been trying to steer Draco without breaking my cover for years. The first directive was to watch over Draco as he attempted to fulfill the Dark Lord's wishes ... no conflict there. I planned to watch him most carefully already. The second was to protect him from harm to the best of my ability ... again, it was something I wished in any case. Then she finished, asking me to ..." Snape's voice faded to an agonized whisper, "... carry out his mission if Draco could not."

Dumbledore's eyes filled with tears, but not for the reason that Harry expected. "Oh, my dear boy ... to be forced into such a decision." His aged but strong left hand gripped the shoulder of his friend.

"Damn you old man," Snape snarled, shrugging off the comforting gesture. "Don't you understand? It was death if I refused and it will be death now that I've agreed ... at least this way I have some time to try to deal with Draco before ..." Snape swallowed, then stood, pacing furiously, his head lowered as though he couldn't meet the kindly blue eyes so filled with compassion. "Don't you understand why this is so hard? You are the only person in my life that ever cared a shrivelfig for me. Now I find myself praying that terminal curse will kill you, before I have to kill you or choose to die by refusing. Actually, there is no choice. I could never bear to cause your death, Albus." The stricken look on the man's face showed emotions such as Harry never believed Snape capable of feeling.

"No, Severus. If matters come to that point, you will do as you must. I am dying. You are needed greatly. When I am gone, only you can guide Harry in finding and destroying the Horcruxes." Dumbledore's eyes grabbed and held the shocked gaze of the younger man. "If I must, I warn you, I will place this as a command within the scope of our Loyalty Bond."

Seeing that nothing less would do, Dumbledore's left hand suddenly grabbed Snape's wrist in an unbreakable vise. His shriveled right hand was raised as though in benediction. "By the oath of loyalty and trust we share, by the protective bond you consented to when you turned your back on the darkness, I require that you do as I ask. If the choice is between my life and yours, you will preserve yours to fight on. So be it!" A blazing white light burst from Dumbledore's hands, enveloping both men for several seconds. As the scene faded into mist, Harry saw silent tears flowing freely from obsidian eyes filled with pain and guilt.

The last scene Harry was shown before he faded into dreamless sleep was one that was obviously very recent. McGonagall was talking to portrait-Dumbledore.

"But Minerva," Dumbledore responded almost plaintively.

"Albus, he must know and soon. I realize you are trying to spare him again. He has already said he will go Horcrux hunting as soon as he turns 17, though he may at least wait for the Weasley wedding that following weekend. You know he will also seek to avenge you. He will need time to accept what you have to tell him. Merlin knows I still have difficulty with what you told me." McGonagall stopped her agitated pacing and faced her predecessor's portrait squarely.

"He must know the truth about Severus."

...

Confused, frustrated tears flowed down Harry's face as he relentlessly continued his exercise. When he had first awakened, he had been very angry with Dumbledore for yet again hiding things from him. Then, reason reminded him that Dumbledore had no need to justify why he trusted Severus Snape ... he should have trusted Dumbledore's certainty without explanation. It wasn't his business to know why.

He then began to wonder if some of the emotions that had ... possessed him at times over the past two years had been entirely his own. Could some of these negative emotions have had their source in the scar link with Voldemort? Sometimes, he didn't understand himself ... the anger, the mistrust, obsession. He knew he couldn't blame it all on an outside influence, but he wondered if ... could his suppressed empathy have still affected him? Before Voldemort had begun staying out of his mind, he had felt the Dark Lord's rage as a part of him ... as though a snake rose within his mind. Even if Dumbledore had thought he had a right to know, they couldn't risk that Voldemort would learn why Snape was, as Scrimgeour had accused Harry, without a doubt Dumbledore's man, through and through.

Harry's arms finally gave out as he was unable to do just one more pushup. As he panted, his head cradled in his arms, lying on the floor, he heard, "Now that was quite impressive, Harry."

He raised his bleary eyes to see Remus Lupin, who was watching quietly from the far side of the sitting room, studiously ignoring Harry's tear-stained face. Harry gave the werewolf a half-hearted glare. "How long have you been sitting there?"

"About fifteen minutes," he answered softly. "From the look of you, you had been at it a bit before I came in."

Harry glanced over to the clock, then froze in shock. He had been going for almost three times his best time so far. "Good Lord! How did I go on for that long?" he exclaimed as he struggled to his feet. He gave Remus a quick rundown on his exercise routine and his recent progress. "I've never been able to do anywhere this much before, though," he muttered in confusion.

Remus looked at him. "I wondered about that last night, you know." At Harry's look of confusion, Remus gestured him to a seat, conjuring some juice for the exhausted teen with a wave of his wand. "After the ritual, when you were upset, at first you threw me away from you with remarkable ease. Remember, Harry ... I'm a werewolf." He let the implications of that comment sink in. "From what I've read, the legacy of Power Surge can sometimes include an enhancement in physical ability as well as magical ability ... and you have that legacy twice over. This morning seems to confirm that you are physically stronger than you were." He smiled gently as he heard Harry mutter, "Great ... what next?"

Just then, Dumbledore stepped into his portrait, which was propped on the table near the fireplace. He seemed ... tentative, wary, uncertain ... not at all normal for the powerful, if quirky old wizard. Harry glared at the portrait with a combination of anger and more than a little fear. Remus glanced between the two and offered, "Shall I leave you two to discuss ... whatever it is?"

"No, Moony, stay ... please," Harry asked quietly, his eyes locked on the late headmaster. "Sir, I had some most ... enlightening dreams last night," he addressed the portrait before Dumbledore could say a word. "It appears that Hogwarts is aware of most, if not all that happens within her wards. I believe she may have shown me her ... memories of certain past events, including part of a discussion between you and Professor McGonagall last night. Did she urge you to ... tell me something?"

Dumbledore paled, sadness filling his eyes, mixed with a kind of relief. "Perhaps our Lady Hogwarts chose the better way. Ask me what you will, Harry. There is little I will not answer now."

For long moments, Harry struggled to choose how he would ask. Finally, he simply asked, "That night, when you said, 'Severus, please' ... what were you asking of him?"

Dumbledore realized that Harry had been shown something profound to make him question his conviction of what had happened that night. He gently answered, "I was asking him to release me, to end my pain, to save his own life." After a moment, he asked, "Will you tell me what you were shown, Harry?"

Slowly, without looking at either man, but at the cold-fire that blazed in the fireplace, Harry recounted his dreams and ... visions, speaking in a soft monotone throughout, though tears glistened at the memory of each death he had witnessed once again. Then he fell silent.

After several long minutes of quiet, Remus commented to Dumbledore, "So that is why you were so certain that Severus couldn't betray you. A Loyalty Bond wouldn't prevent him from being his usual snarky, bitter self, or from holding on to unreasonable grudges and misconceptions. But there could be no doubt that he could be trusted ... because he was still alive."

"I had sworn to him, when he first submitted to the bond, that I would only command him for the most vital reasons," Dumbledore said softly to Harry. "Therefore, I did not force him to be kinder to his students, to you in particular. I urged him, time and again, but could not justify a command. The existence of the bond had to be kept as the deepest of secrets ... it is gray magic, borderline dark, since it can give one person total control of another if the bond is abused. Even I risked Azkaban if it were discovered. So I only declared as strongly as I could that I had reason to trust him implicitly, in greater matters, if not in individual relationships. Even if he had wished to go back to Voldemort, he was incapable of betraying me. I know that he never wished to. He argued with me repeatedly, insisting that I release him from that command. In fact, I think Hagrid may have overheard part of one argument."

"He did ... he told me. I thought it meant ..." Harry's voice drifted off in confusion, the emotional war showing clearly on his face.

"Harry, now that you understand why, I will tell you once again ... I trust Severus completely. You don't have to like the man ... I realize he not in the least likable, though I made some progress in little things over the years. You don't have to like him, but I swear on my love for you that you may trust him ... you must trust him or we may be lost."

Remarkably, Hogwarts reiterated the sentiment, replaying in Harry's mind, snippets of scenes where Dumbledore had affirmed his trust in Snape. "Yes, Milady, I know, I know. You don't have to go on about it," he murmured to the relieved amusement of his companions. He glanced at the two men wryly as they gave him a questioning glance. "She's figured out how to talk to me ... she replays bits of dialogue, sometimes with images to go with the voices. Just now, she sent me a half-dozen different ways that you've said the same thing in the past."

Dumbledore smiled in relief that this crisis had passed with far less distress than he could have hoped for. "I think that it's delightful. Would she mind if I addressed her as Milady as well? Hogwarts is a rather ... harsh name for such a gentle lady, don't you think?"

The sensations that the castle sent Harry to show her approval caused him first to snicker ... then chuckle ... then finally to laugh ... a lighter laugh than he had know in months. Though he still felt confused and uncertain, he realized his friends ... his Pack ... would support him through any crisis. He wasn't sure that his first instinct wouldn't still be to beat his former teacher senseless when they next met, but he had seen a side of the dour man that he never expected. No, I doubt I'll ever come close to liking the git, but I suppose I can't deny that I should ... can ... must trust him.

But what is the next step?

Harry had declined Dobby's offer to bring breakfast to his room when the house elf brought the animagus reference McGonagall had promised. He instead went to join the rest of the current castle inhabitants.

Since there were so few in the castle over the summer, the Great Hall was set up as it had been for Christmas in Harry's third year. The house tables had been moved against the walls and a single table stood in the middle of the room, with settings for four at one end. Dumbledore's portrait was on an easel at the head of the table, to make conversation easier. McGonagall and Flitwick sat on one side, Harry and Remus on the other. They had decided to brief Flitwick on Snape's true loyalties and to protect the information as a Pack Secret. Harry's increasing connection to Lady Hogwarts (as they now referred to the spirit of the castle) was also a topic of conversation.

After a lull in conversation during which they immersed themselves in breakfast, Flitwick could no longer restrain himself. "Well, Mr. Potter, I confess I can no longer contain my curiosity. May we see what the scroll reports this morning?" Harry reached into a pocket to remove a miniature scroll, pulled out his wand muttering Finite Incantatem, and the scroll was back to its usual size. As he unrolled the scroll, they all were able to see the current status of his legacies:

Gift / Legacy Source or non-Legacy Gift / Status

Animagus-black wolf / Gift / Transitional

Animagus-golden phoenix / Gryffindor / Dormant

Command Voice / Slytherin / Transitional

Empath / Gift / Transitional

Force of Will / Gryffindor / Transitional

Legilimency / Slytherin / Blocked

Mage-sense / le Fay / Active

Metamorphmagus / Black / Suppressed

Occlumency / Slytherin / Blocked

Parselmage / Slytherin / Active

Power Surge / Gryffindor / Transitional

Power Surge / Slytherin / Transitional

Unknown / Unknown / Dormant

Wandless Magic / Gryffindor / Suppressed

His empathy had changed from 'Suppressed' to 'Transitional'. Those other gifts listing 'Active' or 'Transitional' seemed to have a brighter, bolder script than the night before. The 'Suppressed' on Wandless Magic was ... flickering, as was the 'Dormant' on Unknown.

"Hmm," observed the small scholar. "Your empathy is no longer suppressed ... likely a result of your growing contact with Lady Hogwarts. The intensity of some gifts appears to be growing. My guess is that the flickering indicates that a change is imminent." Glancing at Harry, Flitwick continued. "I realize that you have an aversion to being singled out, Mr. Potter ... Harry, but I must observe that I know of no previous wizard that had so many different rare gifts. You need to be aware of that, if you have any hope of avoiding unwanted attention."

With a sigh, Harry met Flitwick's eyes over the scroll. "I appreciate your advice ... Filius. I'll keep that in mind. I'll try not to make a spectacle of myself among outsiders." Shifting his intense emerald eyes to his headmistress, he asked, "Minerva, we spoke last night about others who may be willing to join the Pack. May I meet with Hagrid, Madam Pomfrey, Tonks, and Kingsley Shacklebolt over in, uh, Harry's Room this afternoon? And would you help me contact them to arrange it?"

"Harry, I appreciate the courtesy, but Lady Hogwarts has made it clear that your room is outside my area of authority. You have no need of my permission for any activity kept within that room. I would appreciate, however, being kept informed whenever such activity extends to other parts of the castle or grounds." McGonagall waited for Harry's nod of agreement. "Thank you. I would be pleased to contact Poppy and Kingsley for you. I believe Hagrid planned to visit his brother today, so you may need to owl him. Perhaps Remus would contact Ms. Tonks for you," she added with a small mischievous smile. "Shall we adjourn to my office?"

McGonagall was saying, "Fine then, Poppy. We'll see you at 5 here in my office. Until later." She returned to her desk chair with a bit of stiffness, but with a satisfied smile on her face. "Is there anything else I can assist you with at this time, Harry?" she asked.

Harry was having a slightly difficult time adjusting as the adults around him seemed to defer to his leadership. Well, I suppose I can understand that for Pack matters. "No, Minerva. I can't think of anything else just now." Flitwick had already left, once Harry had assured him that the scholar could spend all the time he liked studying the Heritage Canvas. Addressing Dumbledore and Remus, he asked, "Do you think I might be able to do some shopping before I head back? And do you think there is any chance I could get the floo hooked up at Privet Drive until I'm allowed to get my Apparition license? Mr. Weasley had it set up once, but I'll need someone's help convincing my uncle to allow it this time."

The adults exchanged glances, and Dumbledore said, "Exceptions have been made on occasion, Harry, particularly during war time. If you are willing to trade on your fame a bit in a good cause, and since you are less than a month from being of age, you might be able to obtain an underage-magic waiver. That would allow you to obtain your license immediately and there would be no need to ... offend your uncle's Muggle sensibilities. In addition, you would not have that law potentially causing you to hesitate if you needed to defend yourself. I agree with your shopping trip ... you need to dress the part ... then a trip to the Ministry, I think, is in order. Hogsmeade would be a more unobtrusive choice than Diagon Alley for your errands."

McGonagall noticed Harry was about to protest, and guessing the problem, she said, "You can stop at Gringotts later, Harry. I can advance you enough funds for several new outfits from the school's petty cash. You can settle the account when you return this afternoon for your meeting."

"Which 'part', exactly, am I dressing for, Albus?" Harry asked, warily.

Dumbledore glanced at Remus, who answered, "Take your pick: The-Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, the Heir of Houses Potter and Black. Even if we don't publicize it, believe in yourself as an heir of Gryffindor and Slytherin ... you bear their legacies. People won't let you forget it, so you may as well embrace it. Knowing you, it won't go to your head and make you arrogant. Allow it make you more confident, more assertive. You are powerful magically, but also politically. By the calendar, you are nearly an adult. By experience, you have been one for far too long. Turn it to your advantage. I'm afraid you may need all the advantage you can get in the coming year."

Harry could see the agreement in the eyes of all three adults, and Lady Hogwarts was projecting a strong sense of agreement as well. He closed his eyes to calm himself. His breathing steadied, he unconsciously straightened his posture as his body language conveyed a new maturity, an acceptance of a burden, a pride and strength that his friends had seen rare glimpses of over the years. When he opened his eyes, they seemed to glow for a moment with hidden power, then resumed only their usual emerald intensity, even through his glasses. "Right. Shall we get started, then?"

Staring at the young man standing proudly before him, Remus asked, "Minerva, is there enough in the till to throw in a set of contact lenses? Those glasses have to go."

Standing in the Entrance Hall, Harry and Remus were trying to determine the best way to bring Dumbledore along.

"Ah, Harry, senility is overtaking me. I have yet to inform you of all of the charms that are embedded in this frame," Dumbledore commented in self-deprecation. "There are two sets that will serve you well today. The first is a chain charm, which will allow you to wear the frame like an oversized amulet. Hold the frame and say the words, 'Chain ... out'. The reverse command is 'Chain ... in'."

A medium-weight white gold chain slithered out behind the top edge of the ebony picture frame. Harry took hold of the chain and slowly allowed the frame to hang freely before maneuvering the chain around his neck. "Hmm. Too long," he commented as he glared down at where it hung. Then he felt the frame shift up along his chest as the chain shortened by about an inch. "Too long," he said again, and it shortened again. "Good," he approved with a smile, not noticing the look of surprise in Dumbledore's eyes. When he focused on the picture within the frame, he realized that the image had flipped, so that the headmaster was facing him as he looked down. "You're upside-down now!" Then Harry looked at Remus. "Isn't he?"

"Part of the charm, my boy," Dumbledore responded. "The image within the frame is inverted for the wearer's perspective, yet remains the same for anyone else. Now the second charm is meant to hide the portrait. With your hand on the frame, say 'Portrait ... hide'. The reverse is 'Portrait ... reveal'.

As Harry invoked the charm, he saw a shimmer appear around the frame. Looking at Remus, he saw confirmation that the spell had worked.

"I can no longer see either the portrait, or the chain, Harry. Albus, does the spell also cover sound?"

"Indeed is does," answered the portrait.

Realizing that Remus couldn't hear the answer, Harry said, "Sound, too, Moony."

"May I?" Remus asked as he raised a hand to reach out. At Harry's nod, Remus brushed his fingertips along Harry's chest where he recalled seeing the portrait and chain a few moments earlier. He felt nothing.

Harry met his eyes with a grin. "Your fingers seemed to go right through the chain and frame. Wicked!" Then he noticed that Dumbledore seemed very disconcerted. "What's wrong, sir?"

Gathering his wits, the portrait carefully asked, "Harry, have you been using your Mage-sense while working these charms?"

"Uh, yes. I wanted to watch what was happening. Is that a problem?" Harry answered. Seeing Lupin's look of confusion, Harry reversed the hiding spell and repeated Dumbledore's question for him.

"Harry, focus on the chain charm. Can you sense who set the charm?" the portrait asked.

"It looks like your magic ... mostly. There's something else ..."

"Think of the aspect of the charm that allowed you to adjust the length," Dumbledore prompted.

Harry frowned as he sensed something different about that portion of the spell, then held his hand up to see if he could sense his own magic.

Dumbledore interrupted. "Harry, focus now on the hiding charms. Think of the different aspects separately: hidden from sight, hidden from hearing, hidden from touch. Tell me what you sense."

"Sight and hearing have your pattern. Touch ..."

"Harry, my spellcasting did not include intangibility. Remus, since Filius isn't here, suppose you tell Harry what you know about variations of the Mage-sense gift."

Though not quite the scholar that the Ravenclaw Head of House was, Remus Lupin had definitely been the studious one among the Marauders, and enjoyed teaching immensely. With a smile, he lightly lectured, "The levels of Mage-sense are progressive. The most basic is to sense the presence of magic. As the gift progresses, one can identify the spell, and even the spellcaster. You may simply be able to tell a wizard from a Muggle, or you may be able to gauge the overall strength of a wizard or even identify their gifts. A very strong ability may allow you to analyze an unknown spell and duplicate it. The rarest extension allows one with Mage-sense to reverse any spell, or even manipulate or augment a spell." As Remus said this last part, his eyes widened. "Are you saying that Harry augmented your spell to include intangibility? Unconsciously?"

Dumbledore nodded. "And the chain charm ... I did not think to make the chain length adjustable. I forgot that I am ... was significantly taller than Harry. Harry, before we go, would you check the scroll once more, please?"

Two lines had changed:

Mage-sense w/Spell Manipulation / le Fay / Active

Wandless Magic / Gryffindor / Transitional

Harry's hand shook slightly. "Things are happening too fast ... too fast ..."

The portrait-Dumbledore was stricken that he couldn't reach out to the troubled young man. As Remus enfolded Harry in a one-armed hug, Dumbledore asked softly, "Milady?"

Apparently the castle's attention had been elsewhere for the moment, because at that summons, Harry suddenly felt a questioning, then a gentle mental embrace which soothed his panic.

"My own gift did not extend to spell manipulation, Harry, though Morgana herself had both aspects of the gift in full measure," Dumbledore related quietly. "My private library included a journal of hers, which documented quite a bit of information that should assist you in training that portion of your gift. Aberforth took my books to Dumbledore House. We can stop at the Hog's Head and ask him to retrieve it for you. For now, if you will invoke the hiding spell again, we can see about getting you outfitted as your public persona deserves. After that ... the Ministry."

Sitting in the back corner of the Three Broomsticks, Harry had deliberately tried out his spell manipulation, and was rather proud of the results. He had reversed both the hiding spell and the chain charm wordlessly, and focused his Mage-sense on the back of the portrait frame. Since it was a magical artifact, he was able to nudge the material of the frame. After a few moments, he had produced a fold-out prop on the picture frame, much like a Muggle free-standing photo frame, and Dumbledore was 'sitting' contentedly on a corner of the table hidden from the view of most of the patrons.

Remus had asked if he might invite Rosmerta over to see Dumbledore, saying that she had been quite upset when it was revealed she had betrayed them while under the Imperius Curse. Rosmerta was overwhelmingly grateful to have a chance to apologize to Dumbledore. A few tears, and a free round of drinks were her response to the portrait's sincere forgiveness. She left them alone, promising to keep the spare portrait a secret. Remus sat quietly, nursing a butterbeer, while Harry mentally reviewed what they had accomplished so far.

Harry had suffered a whirlwind of activity at Gladrags and left with one rather elegant set of business robes, with an order for two other custom-tailored sets for business or formal occasions that would be delivered in care of Hogwarts the following week. In addition, he had picked up a plain, but blessedly-well-fitting set of black jeans and emerald green shirt, which he had worn as he left the store ... Dudley's hand-me-downs had been trashed.

A walk to the Hog's Head brought them to an interesting, awkward encounter between Albus and Aberforth Dumbledore. It had been the first time the brothers had met since the headmaster's death, and the gruff bartender's emotional mask slipped more than a few times. Aberforth promised to retrieve Morgana's journal and either deliver or owl it over to Hogwarts in the morning.

Dumbledore had directed them further up the side road that had brought them to the Hog's Head, revealing a wizarding optometry shop with the amusing name of 'The Outer Eye' ... Harry and Remus both smothered sniggers thinking of Sibyll Trelawney and her 'Inner Eye' nonsense. The wizard's name was Grant Foster, and was delighted to give Harry a package deal on an eye examination, a pair-and-a-spare of long-term (stay in place for a year), clear ('It would be a crime to try to change the color of those lovely specimens.') contact lens, a new pair of glasses with a self-adjusting prescription good for ten years, and half-price lens replacements for life. He had sent them off to the Three Broomsticks for an hour while he finished up the order, bustling into his back workroom with boundless energy.

Now, Harry was waiting, getting anxious about his upcoming 'performance' at the Ministry. "So, once we're ready to head to London, how exactly are we going about getting me this waiver?"

While Harry had been at Gladrags, Remus had worn the portrait, even though it was intangible and wouldn't have interfered with the fittings. He and Dumbledore had quietly discussed various scenarios. "Before we head back to 'The Outer Eye', I'll floo-call Arthur. If he's available, we'll start there and brainstorm a bit more over who is the best choice to approach ... someone willing to help that won't likely set off your temper," he grinned at the teen.

A distant soft laugh proved to Harry that Lady Hogwarts wasn't completely out of range, though the pub was the only location in Hogsmeade so far that was close enough to sense her. Harry said softly, aloud for the benefit of the two adults, "So, Milady, your reach extends beyond the wards. Is that normal, or is it because of me?" An image of Harry softly glowing during the Pack pledging answered him. "Oh, because of the Pack?" Affirmative. I'm glad, he thought, and was answered with gentle happiness. "She really has missed being able to communicate with someone. I'm glad I can make someone happy," he mused quietly. "Well, back to business. Mr. Weasley sounds like a good starting point. I wish Madam Bones was still alive. I liked her. I hope we can avoid Scrimgeour. He'll see my asking for a favor as a victory."

Dumbledore answered, "If we play it right, even if we deal with Rufus, you can come out the winner of the encounter. Except in Arthur's private office, keep me hidden. Then I can guide you if there is a need, and no one will be the wiser. In fact ... could you hear and see me with your Mage-sense while Remus wore the portrait? Wonderful. Then you can both hear me while hidden. Now, Harry, Remus was correct earlier. Remind yourself, not of your reputation, but of your accomplishments, your heritage, your power. Despite the calendar, you have been a man, not a child, for some time. I was so proud of your strength during our last adventure, Harry. You have made me proud many times over the years. Take some of that well-earned pride into yourself, with elegance and grace, as I know you can."

"Well, if I have to be the Chosen One, I suppose I'd better act like I'm a worthy choice," Harry said. A short time later, between the contact lenses, the elegant new robes, and a determined stride, a new, formidable Harry Potter went to see about getting what he wanted from the Ministry.

to be continued