A/N: And now we're back to the prologue. It's been forty-thousand words but now the story can truly start.
Present Day
“…and that's about it,” Harry finished dully. “We went through the Nevernever, wound up in the forest, I broke loose when we entered the castle and they caught up with me again.”
Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair and absently stroking his long, white beard. The small group of wardens plus one prisoner had relocated to the Headmaster's office for some privacy. Harry's eyes flickered over the room, noting that it hadn't changed at all since the last time he had been here. The moving portraits were snoozing- or at least, pretending to snooze- something that captured the attention of a short-haired female Warden, who couldn't stop gaping. A row of delicate instruments glinted in the warm light emanating form the flickering fireplace. The perch that occupied Dumbledore's fiery phoenix was empty.
“Is this black wizard here telling us the truth, wand-wizard?” Morgan demanded harshly. His face looked as if it could have been carved from stone and both he and Harry waited in anticipation, both for totally different reasons.
Harry didn't think that Dumbledore would refuse, especially after all that had happened the last time he had been here. That said, an icy cold slither of fear was shooting through his stomach and suddenly doubt crept in his mind. Surely, Dumbledore wouldn't refuse…surely the old man wouldn't let him be killed.
“I asked you a…” Morgan started but was silenced with a simple motion of Dumbledore's hand.
Despite the power that Harry could sense in the hardened warden, there was little doubt in anybody's mind about just who was in control here. It made the wardens edgy and Harry had to suppress a grimace as Morgan's hands tightened down on his shoulders. Dumbledore was looking extremely contemplative and his eyes were staring off into the distance. After a few moments, he blinked and then gave a little start.
“Ah, yes,” he said with twinkling eyes. “Forgive me. Wizards my age tend to drift off into their daydreams…but of course, dreams should never supersede the reality of life. Now, where were we?”
“Is this boy telling us the truth?” Morgan demanded again.
“But of course,” Dumbledore exclaimed. “Harry here is a valued member of the Hogwarts student body. Yes, some business opportunities forced him to take an extended holiday period but it was always expected that he would return.”
“And you're aware of his….condition?” One of the other wardens asked in disbelief.
“Of course,” Dumbledore said with a gentle smile. “We accept all manner of students here at Hogwarts, whether they are stricken with the curse of the werewolf, blessed with the beauty of a Veela, or have the spirit of a fallen angel dwelling in their heads.”
“Very well,” Morgan said stiffly. “We shall leave him into your care. Know that if he does not fulfil the requirements of his release, we will find him and kill him.”
“I am curious,” Dumbledore said slowly. “What exactly has Harry here been accused of?”
“We have evidence that the Denarian here has been murdering innocents and sacrificing non-magical people to summoned demons for the past seven years,” Morgan said severely. His eye twitched as he turned his gaze upon Harry, who stared back with a cocky smile on his face. “He is a murderer. He consorts with demons and beings most foul. He wields black magic. He is scum, Dumbledore, and you are protecting him.”
“I see,” Dumbledore said slowly, but made no other movement. He gestured to Harry's cuffs with a wrinkled, gnarled hand and smiled politely. “Could I trouble you to remove these bindings from my student? I am sure that I could do so myself, but this way would be much easier for all parties concerned.”
Morgan grimaced but moved forward and yanked Harry's arms up. Harry winced in protest at this a painful movement but remained silent as Morgan fiddled with the locking mechanism. The cuffs opened and fell off and suddenly Hellfire roared in his veins. It was as the dam that had been holding all back had collapsed and it raged forward, bringing about it a wave of unbelievable pleasure. With the Hellfire came Meciel's magnificent presence and Harry could feel both the terrible anger she held towards the White Council and the relief she felt as she embraced his mind.
'That was most unpleasant,' Meciel said icily.
'Tell me about it,' Harry grumbled and paused. 'Are you alright?'
'I am fine, beloved,' Meciel reassured him soothingly and some part of Harry nearly sagged in relief. 'The experience was merely disconcerting, not painful. It was as if I was inside a giant sphere, where I could see and hear everything yet nobody could see or hear me. It was much like it was last time.'
Harry smiled and his face softened with real affection. From behind his desk, Dumbledore watched the reunion with a polite expression on his face, not revealing any of his true emotions. The aged Headmaster turned back to Morgan, who tucked the cuffs into the back of his grey cloak.
“Was there anything else, Warden Morgan?” He asked politely.
Morgan sneered but Dumbledore's gaze remained polite, and the Warden gathered himself up. With a quick gesture to his two companions, he strode out of the Headmaster's office with a furious scowl on his face, levelling Harry one last glare. Harry sneered back at the Warden but looked away as one of Morgan's companions dropped a bundle of objects on Dumbledore's desk, including but not limited to his wands, the Sword of the Cross and the bag of tinkling golden galleons. The warden ducked out of the room a second later, leaving Harry and Dumbledore alone.
“In a moment, Harry,” Dumbledore said abruptly and suddenly the air exploded in a flash of red flames and a haunting melody. Harry winced as the song drove into his head and Fawkes, Dumbledore's Summer Fae, landed on his shoulder. Her black eyes bore into his and Harry squirmed under the other entity's knowing gaze.
“Go fuck a duck,” Harry growled under his breath and broke eye contact. Fawkes let out a soft trill as Dumbledore attached a message to her leg, looking quite serious.
“To Kingsley and Nymphadora, quickly,” He murmured softly. Fawkes let out another trill and nipped Dumbledore on the ear in a sign of affection and possessiveness, before soaring off Dumbledore's shoulder and disappearing in a flash of flames. Dumbledore turned back to Harry with a grave expression. “Although the White Council has said that they will not prosecute you, I have no doubt that they will alert the Department of Magical Law Enforcement of your crimes. Luckily, I have a few contacts that may be able to make the whole thing disappear.”
“Thanks,” Harry muttered awkwardly. He glanced away from Dumbledore's gaze, focussing on the tinkling objects and thick tomes positioned on the towering bookshelves. For a moment, Harry was sure that Dumbledore would bring up his crimes, but the older Headmaster made no mention of Morgan's allegations.
“Well, Harry, you have found yourself in quite the predicament,” Dumbledore said after a moment's silence. He made a slight motion with his hand and suddenly a tray appeared, holding two steaming cups of hot chocolate. Dumbledore picked one up and sipped it, while motioning for Harry to take the other. Naturally, Harry declined.
“I have, haven't I?” Harry said and sighed. “You know, it's been a real shitty day. First Voldemort attacks my apartment and then the White Council nabs me from the street.”
“Voldemort,” Dumbledore said sharply.
“Oh, didn't hear about that part?” Harry asked curtly, his anger beginning to simmer. “Yeah, like I said, Voldemort. Tall guys, red eyes, really cool spells. Is that ringing any bells in that…”
'Try not to insult him,' Meciel advised, interrupting his speech, and Harry sighed.
“It is troubling that he was able to locate you,” Dumbledore mused carefully, ignoring Harry's half-finished sentence. He wore a troubled frown and seemed to be in deep thought.
“He was only able to locate me because I was out looking for the information you wanted,” Harry snapped and was pleased when Dumbledore's eye's lost their twinkle and he suddenly seemed to age. “It looks like you were right. Voldemort and Vesper are working together. It's the only way he could have found me. Then, when my fucking wards got blown to hell, the White Council decides arrest me!”
“Harry…” Dumbledore started softly.
“You know, I was doing pretty fucking well until you knocked on my door yesterday,” Harry growled and his eyes glinted with fiery power. An instant later, Meciel blazed his rage away with considerable effort, whispering soft, calming words into his ear.
“I feel as if I must apologise,” Dumbledore said, looking weary. He took another sip of his tea and let out a soft sigh as he leaned back in his chair. “I have caused you undue distress. It was not my intention.”
“Oh, well, if you're sorry then everything's just fucking perfect,” Harry muttered sourly, but most of his rage has dissipated, leaving a hollowed, emotionally-wearied shell behind. It had been a long day for him, a very long day.
“I must ask, did you uncover any information that may prove useful to me?” Dumbledore queried, taking another sip of his hot chocolate and peering over the rim of the cup.
“I did,” Harry said cautiously, frowning and folding his arms across his chest. He suppressed a wince and he rubbed his sore wrists. An instant later, Hellfire surged through his veins and the aches and pains in his body faded under a gentle haze of power. “I've got half a mind to say 'go fuck yourself' though.”
'Beloved, he did just save your life,' Meciel said softly. 'What's more, it might be best to remain in his favour. It seems that you will be spending another year at this school- a school that he runs.'
Harry made a face and rolled his eyes, ignoring Dumbledore's twinkling eyes and knowing glance. The Headmaster looked as if he knew exactly what Meciel had just said and a benign smile crossed his face as he lowered his cup onto his saucer with a soft chink.
“I suppose some extra monetary compensation would make up for this inconvenience,” Dumbledore said slowly and looked amused when Harry perked up. “After all, you have suffered as a result of taking this job. Perhaps, say, an extra twenty-five percent will help you.”
“For this, try triple,” Harry said flatly and gave Dumbledore a challenging look. “At least.”
“If you require more money then perhaps I can offer you an extra fifty-percent,” Dumbledore said smoothly, his eyes twinkling in amusement.
Harry ran his tongue over his lips, his eyes narrowed and his mouth working over as if he were chewing something. Finally, after a few moments had passed, he seemed to come to a decision.
“Double,” he interjected slowly. “And no lower. Remember, Dumbledore, I have information that will help you with your little civil war.”
Dumbledore stared back and after a moment's pause, gave a decisive nod.
“We are agreed,” he said briskly.
“Good,” Harry said and leaned back into his chair, holding in his tired sigh and watching Dumbledore suspiciously. “I'll write up what I know tomorrow.”
“Very well,” Dumbledore said. “I will deposit the original two thousand galleons to your vault at Gringotts, along with another two thousand galleons for your trouble.”
“Ah, no,” Harry said quickly, shaking his head as Dumbledore finished. “Recent events make it hard for me to stroll down Diagon Alley, you know, appearing at Hogwarts with a dead Quidditch player by my side. You can exchange that to muggle money- at a good exchange rate, by the way, and give it to this account here. I'll- hang on, I have a vault?”
“Yes,” Dumbledore answered simply and Harry blinked. “Your parents were by no means rich, but they had amassed a small amount of gold before their death. Unfortunately, there is not as much as you would have hoped. A year and a half in seclusion drained quite a large amount of money from their accounts. Still, there is enough to have covered your seven years across Hogwarts, and a few years in the training for your next profession.”
“I have a vault?” Harry asked a moment later, still looking befuddled. Confusion was replaced with anger and he narrowed his eyes. “Just when were you going to tell me about this?”
“I presumed that you had known of the vault,” Dumbledore said and looked at Harry earnestly. Harry didn't sense a single instance of deceit coming from the man- of course; if Dumbledore was lying then he probably wouldn't know anyway. Reaching into one of his pockets, Dumbledore produced a small golden key and handed it over to Harry. “I know that you have been to Gringotts and I merely thought that you had found another way to access your vault, which was why you did not come to me for your key.”
“I get the feeling I've been played here,” Harry muttered sourly as he took the key and examined it closely. He let out a sigh, feeling too tired and emotionally drained to raise a fuss. “Still, what can I do now? Besides, I guess…I guess I owe you my life.”
“I did nothing less than I would have done for any of my other students,” Dumbledore said, taking another sip of his cup with a soft sigh. He wrapped his wrinkled hands around the hot cup and stared at Harry with an honest blue gaze. “I will admit though; I was quite worried when you burst into the Great Hall like that, although I believe that is one of our most memorable entrances that I can remember.”
“Ah, crap,” Harry muttered sourly. He fingered his wand with narrowed eyes as he continued. “Just let one of the little bastards make fun of me- I dare them to.”
“And on that note, I believe we need to have a little discussion about your re-enrolment to this school,” Dumbledore said quickly, lowering his mug and peering at Harry with serious blue eyes. “I understand that the events that led you here last year were unique, and the events that have led you here this year are even more unique, but I'm afraid that I cannot permit you to behave in the same manner as you did before.”
“What?” Harry uttered, blinking in surprise His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What the hell are you up to Dumbledore? If this is some kind of redemption trick…”
“Harry, the fact that you wield one of the holiest items known to man is enough to satisfy my desire to see you redeemed,” Dumbledore interrupted. “No, I
“Things are different now,” Dumbledore said, sighing heavily. “I have told you that the Ministry of Magic has chosen to ignore my warnings about Lord Voldemort's return. I have told you that they have attempted to discredit me, and to a lesser extent you. What I have not told is that it is succeeding.”
Harry watched as Dumbledore seemed to age before his eyes, looking weary and tired.
“I have been removed from my post in the Wizengamot and dismissed from my position at the International Confederation of Wizards,” Dumbledore explained tiredly. The portraits on the walls eyed him with sympathy as he continued. “I have endured scorn and ridicule from all pegs of society and now my position at this very school is under attack.”
“Whoa,” Harry said slowly, looking concerned. “You're the only one who can keep me alive, Dumbledore. You can't leave.”
“There may come a time when I have no choice in the matter,” Dumbledore said grimly. Harry almost winced as a flash of hot anger passed through the elder wizard's eyes. The other mug of untouched hot chocolate was bubbling over, warm frothy liquid spilling onto the tray. “The Ministry have appointed a new defence teacher. Not only does she lack the proper skills, I suspect that Professor Umbridge is also acting as a spy of sorts.”
“I gather that you don't like this woman,” Harry said warily, eying the dripping mug with cautious eyes. “You know, I could kill her for you. Free of charge, as well, as long as it makes my life here a little easier.
“She represents the very worst of the Wizarding society as a whole,” Dumbledore replied, ignoring but, to Harry, not dismissing the offer. His anger suddenly drained away, leaving behind a tired old man. “I apologise for my outburst, Harry. I have been under quite a lot strain recently. It is hard, trying to organise a defence against a Dark Lord that nobody wants to believe exists.”
Harry shifted in his seat, a tiny part of him both enjoying and cringing at the sight of the most powerful wizard he knew- barring Voldemort, of course- looking so tired. Inside his head, he could also feel Meciel's concern and felt a flash of surprise.
'I do admire this man,' Meciel said softly, wistfully. 'He almost reminds me of somebody I once knew, long, long ago.'
“If it makes you feel better, Meciel likes you,” Harry said with a quick wink, which made Dumbledore blink in surprise. “That's got to say something about you. I mean, she doesn't even like me half the time.”
'Oh, you're so sensitive,' Meciel murmured teasingly.
“I am honoured,” was all Dumbledore said before shaking his head, blinking his eyes repeatedly. “And we seem to have drifted off topic. Alas, the bane of my old age- a forgetful memory. What were we discussing?”
“My behaviour,” Harry muttered a touch glumly. “It's all I seem to be hearing about lately.”
'Oh, grow up,' Meciel said exasperatedly, although in good humour. 'I'm not that bad.'
'Make me,' Harry mentally responded.
'How mature,' Meciel remarked dryly.
'I learned from the best,' Harry shot back and Meciel let out a tinkling laugh.
'Oh, beloved, I do like you,' she said wistfully. Harry suppressed a smile and turned his attention back to Dumbledore, the interaction between Meciel and Harry taking only an instant.
“Ah, that's right,” Dumbledore murmured, nodding sagely. “Now, with Professor Umbridge reporting back to the Ministry of Magic, you understand how you must appear to be as normal a student as possible. You cannot afford to draw any undue attention to yourself.”
“She'll expel me?” Harry asked.
“She does not have the power, not just yet,” Dumbledore replied. “Nonetheless, I strongly suggest that you do not antagonise her. If I am banished from the school, so be it. I will continue the fight against Lord Voldemort elsewhere. If you are banished from the school, then it will mean your death.”
“Do I have to?” Harry asked, in almost a whining voice.
“Yes, Harry, I'm afraid so,” Dumbledore answered.
“Great,” Harry muttered. “Just great. So, what, I have to do my homework or something?”
“You need to do your homework, wear the proper uniform, be respectful to teachers, restrain your wand, and so forth,” Dumbledore answered, and blinked when Harry let out a bark of laughter. Harry's smile died down as he noticed that Dumbledore was being completely serious.
“Oh, for the love of…” He groaned and shook his head despairingly. “Dumbledore, I don't know if you've noticed but you have an entire school full of retards. I might not be able to restrain myself.”
“All I ask is that you try,” Dumbledore said heavily. The former headmasters in the portrait surrounding the Dumbledore's table let out small noises of grumbling, most staring at Harry with annoyance or derision.
“Try?” Harry repeated and smiled slyly. He looked very pleased with himself as he folded his arms and leant back in his comfortable chair. “I can try.”
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows but looked fairly amused as Harry rubbed his hands together, looking very mischievous. But Harry's expression turned serious and he let out a sigh.
“Oh, fine,” he grumbled. “I'll be good- but only because I like my head. It's got all the features I need, dashing green eyes, handsome, aristocratic features and a rakishly charming smile.”
“Of course you do,” Dumbledore said, almost patronisingly, and there was an amused spark to his light blue eyes.
“Were you just hitting on me?” Harry asked shrewdly. “Cause you're not my type, Dumbledore. For one, you've got more wrinkles than a woman's unironed panties.”
“I'm afraid you do not meet the requirements for a potential partner, Harry,” Dumbledore explained and smiled mysteriously at Harry's start of surprise.
“Ooh, rejected by an old man,” Harry said and gave an expressive wince. Suddenly he blinked and stared at Dumbledore in surprise. “Did you just make a joke?”
“Why, yes,” Dumbledore answered. “I believe I just did.”
Harry made a face and fell silent and an awkward silence fell upon the room. Harry was fidgeting in his chair, looking irritable and maybe even a touch nervous. Across the other side of the warmly lit rim sat Dumbledore, looking as regal and patient as any wizard that Harry had ever met before.
“You've probably get a better spin on what Voldemort's doing than I do,” Harry admitted sourly after enough time had elapsed. “What's fuck-face been up to?
“I thought you didn't care about him,” Dumbledore reminded him gently, absently flicking his wand and removing the cups of hot chocolate from his pristine desk. They disappeared without a sound and Dumbledore placed his wand away.
“And I thought that I had a lovely apartment with honest-to-god silk sheets on my bed,” Harry snapped back, before sighing and rubbing his eyes. “I'd like to know that's been going on. Can you at least tell me that?”
Dumbledore sighed and locked his fingers together, his expression growing troubled. He ran his eyes over his office and Harry noted shrewdly that he was examining some of the delicate silver instruments on his large shelves as he contemplated his answer.
“He is biding his time, raising his former servants and preparing for the right opportunity to strike,” Dumbledore finally answered. “Lord Voldemort's powers are far greater now than they ever were. With the Ministry refusing to mobilise itself, I believe that he will not encounter much resistance when he finally reveals himself.”
“Great,” Harry muttered sourly and suddenly felt very tired. Meciel sent a blaze of Hellfire to warm his body and he could feel his eyes threatening to shut. To wake him out of this stupor, Harry jumped up to his feet and began to pace. “Look, I don't like Voldemort. Frankly, I think he's a fucking prick.”
“I doubt there is a single person in the world that will disagree with you,” Dumbledore said lightly, peering at Harry over his glasses as the Denarian Knight paced around his office.
“Personally, I don't like you either,” Harry continued honestly and shrugged at Meciel's exasperated sigh. “Hey, I won't lie to you here. I think you're sanctimonious, self righteous and pretty much an annoying git.”
“Coming from you, I daresay I should take that as a compliment,” Dumbledore said, not looking at all affronted at Harry's declaration.
“Look, I don't like you but I…respect…you, I guess,” Harry muttered and rolled his eyes. “Don't go nuts or anything, insinuating that you're a paedophile is one of my favourite pastimes. Anyway, you told me that you were part of an Order that opposed Voldemort. Am I right?”
“I am,” Dumbledore confirmed.
Harry paused and stared at Dumbledore with narrowed green eyes. After seeing nothing more than honesty and sincerity, he pressed on.
“It's obvious that Voldemort has a grudge against me,” Harry continued. “Whether it's because of the whole 'can't kill a kid' thing or whether it's because I practically split him in two during the Third Task. So, I was thinking….you're against Voldemort for justice and the light and all that crap…and I'm Voldemort's enemy…and seeing that I've gone up against him twice…we could…become…allies.”
“That took quite a lot of effort to say, didn't it?” Dumbledore asked after a moment's silence, looking very thoughtful as he mulled over Harry's words.
“Like you wouldn't believe,” Harry exhaled loudly, glancing around Dumbledore's office. The portraits were watching the entire proceedings silently. Harry gave them a fierce scowl, pushing down his embarrassment and turning his blunt gaze back on Dumbledore. “You don't like him, I don't like him- see, we already have a good working relationship. Besides, I can do all the nitty-gritty stuff that you despise so you don't have to get your hands sullied.”
“It is an interesting proposal,” Dumbledore mused thoughtfully, absently stroking his beard. “I did not think that you would wish to join the Order of Phoenix, although, your parents were former members before their untimely deaths.”
“Whoa,” Harry said quickly, waving his hands and stopping Dumbledore in his tracks. “I said allies, not subordinates. I'd work with you, not for you. I got this thing about taking orders, you see. Meciel thinks it's a teenage phase of mine or whatever, but whatever.”
“The best thing you could do for the Order is to focus on yourself,” Dumbledore answered after a moment's pause. His gaze locked onto Harry and the Denarian could tell that he was utterly serious. “I have no doubt that you will become a very significant factor in the struggle against Lord Voldemort, more than you just might realise. However, all your talents and skills will be useless if you are executed by the White Council.”
'He makes a good point,' Meciel said. 'I'm afraid that revenge will have to wait for now.'
Harry's face was scrunched up in a scowl but he gave a short, grudging nod. He stopped pacing and sat back down. There was an awkward silence in Dumbledore's office as both the Headmaster and the Denarian observed each other carefully. Finally, Dumbledore cleared his throat.
“I understand that you duelled Lord Voldemort,” he said calmly. “I am very impressed, Harry. There were only a few who could oppose him the last time around- your parents being two I can remember. Now, given his present level of power, I believe that there are only a handful of wizards in the world who could possibly hope to match him.”
“Why does everybody have to bring up the parents?” Harry muttered to himself, before he shook his head and let out a loud derisive snort. “And look, I normally love being complimented- it does wonders for my modest ego- but save it. I'm not in the mood for praise about my 'spectacular' duelling skills after getting my arse handed to me twice in one night.”
“Do not be discouraged, Harry,” Dumbledore advised kindly. “You are young and relatively unskilled compared to Lord Voldemort, yet you stand here before me, alive and well. Given time, you will find a way to conquer him. I guarantee it.”
“What the hell do you mean by that?” Harry asked, staring at Dumbledore strangely. The old man merely shook his head, his light blue eyes twinkling with a trove of hidden secrets, and changed the subject.
“Now, I believe it is time you got some rest,” Dumbledore said cheerfully and abruptly stood up. His purple robes glittered under the flickering flames of the fireplace and he swung his hands forward to let out a loud clap.
There was a soft pop and a small, green creature dressed in a clean tea-towel appeared in the office. Harry recognised the thing as a house-elf as it bowed to Dumbledore, addressing the wizard with a squeaky voice.
“What can Izzy be doing for Master Dumbledore?” it asked.
“Could you please take Harry to one of the private rooms, please?” Dumbledore asked it pleasantly and the house-elf bowed again. Dumbledore turned back to Harry. “For now, I believe you deserve some privacy to rest, so we shall not bother the Gryffindor Dormitory at this time. Tomorrow, you will be expected to attend all of your classes- I will enrol you into the same subjects as you attended last year. Also, expect to receive a small package from me in the next few days. I have a few books of a rather…questionable nature…that you might find quite interesting.”
“What?” Harry asked with a confused shake of his head.
“Go and get some sleep, Harry,” Dumbledore said and a warm smile crossed his face. “You look like you need it.”
'Did he just imply that I was ugly?' Harry mentally wandered as he followed the creature out of Dumbledore's office, leaving behind the cosy, warm chair and the twinkling-eyes of the Headmaster.
'You are far too tired to be making witty remarks, beloved,' Meciel said soothingly. 'Get some rest. We face a tough challenge tomorrow.'
'How so?'
'Why, we must struggle through a single day of idiots and pathetic weaklings without cursing them, of course,' Meciel said. 'This Umbridge does sound interesting, though. I am looking forward to meeting her. She sounds most…pleasant.'
'Why do I get the feeling that I'll be killing her before the end of the school year?' Harry sighed.
'I have no idea, beloved,' Meciel said innocently. 'I have no idea.'