Dumbledore and Slughorn

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore had been having a very eventful month so far. The very day after Voldemort's continued existence and non-dead status had been revealed to the general public in such a spectacular fashion, he had seen a return of Fudge's personal owl that had been bought by the Minister specifically for letters to Albus a week after Fudge had gotten the position.

While he was happy to see that Fudge hadn't killed or sold the owl to spite him (he was rather fond of it and had even given it the nickname "Bumble"), he wasn't as happy with the letters that came with the owl. After spending one gruelling day at the Ministry questioning the captured Death Eaters, he had managed to stave off further inquests and summons from the Minister using his Headmaster's duties as an excuse. All he had to do was mention the havoc wreaked by Dolores Umbridge, and Fudge was more than willing to shut his mouth.

That didn't stop Fudge from contacting Dumbledore at the earliest possible time however. For the steam from the departing Hogwarts express had barely dissipated from Hogsmeade station when he spotted Bumble winging his way towards him. Were he a lesser man, or in the privacy of his office, Albus would have actually sighed in resignation and a bit of annoyance. It was almost as if the bumbling fool had instructed the owl to wait till that moment to send a letter to him. Nevertheless, Albus had managed to hide his reaction upon spotting the owl. Though he was sure that Minerva and Severus weren't fooled, if the small smirk on Severus' face and the barely concealed humour on Minerva's was any indication.

That letter had been the start of many other letters from Fudge asking Albus for advice. Advice about how to deal with the public, the press, the Wizengamot, the employees at the ministry, furious parents who had started sending howlers complaining about Umbridge and the abuse their charges had suffered under her reign as "Headmistress" and last and most importantly (to Fudge at least), how to keep his post as Minister.

By the end of the first week into the summer, Albus had started developing an eye twitch at the very mention of Cornelius Fudge and found himself trying to control the urge to hex the stupid Minister's stupid owl.

Could that man ever function without explicit instructions? Albus snorted to himself at that thought. From what he could remember of Cornelius during his time at Hogwarts, the boy was regularly seen sending out missives almost every day. He probably needed instructions on going to the loo as well! He shook his head in disappointment, Hiram Fudge was a really brilliant wizard, and he would be turning in his grave now looking at his son and how far the Fudge name has fallen.

He had nearly followed through on his urges of hexing the owl when he got a letter from Fudge detailing his latest brilliant idea to use Harry Potter to help keep his position as Minister and requesting an audience with the boy.

Of course, the first time Albus had read that letter, he had nearly burst out laughing. Fudge, it seemed, had either hired a new secretary who really wasn't well versed in the English Language, or the Minister was getting desperate; after all, the flattery was extremely blatant even by Fudge's standards!

What was even more amusing was that the Minister actually had the hope that Harry would cooperate with him! Albus knew enough about teenagers (considering that he had been dealing with them for more years than he would care to count) to know that the boy would definitely be holding a major grudge against the Minister, and no amount of bribery or flattery would ever be able to sway him.

For one whole minute, a rather vindictive part of Albus actually wanted to grant the Minister his wish. The resulting meeting would certainly be entertaining to watch. In his estimation, it would certainly be on par with that Muggle play he had seen a long time back for his Muggle Studies project. Albus didn't remember the details, but it did involve a lot of magical animals.

Of course, his mood soured rather quickly when he remembered the events that had lead to the grand unveiling of the truth, more specifically the death of Sirius Black.

Sirius was not only a valuable fighter, but also rather dear to Albus. While he had many favourites over his long career as an educator (not that he would admit to having any favourites at all), Sirius was one of the two Albus held dear (Harry being the other one). Despite his arrogance, recklessness and occasional cruelty, Sirius had turned out to have a good head on his shoulders. It was even more astounding considering the reputation the Blacks had for being a Dark Family.

Albus was sincerely glad when he had found out that Sirius was innocent all along. He was also saddened that he never had the chance to make up with the younger man for not believing him or holding a trial for him. He knew that Sirius still had a grudge against him and hadn't yet forgiven him for that. The least he could do now was clear Sirius' name so that his memory could be honoured.

That feat had been ridiculously easy to manage. When questioning the Death Eaters captured in the Ministry, Fudge had tried to ascertain that he had actually seen Voldemort and not someone impersonating the evil man. So he had asked each and every one of the eleven Death Eaters under Veritaserum if it was actually Voldemort and not, say, Sirius Black dressed as Voldemort. That question had not only confirmed Sirius' innocence and Pettigrew's continued existence, but had actually managed to inflict a tone of incredulity and hilarity into voices of the drugged Death Eaters.

In fact, Albus had it on good authority that the Unspeakables who were present at the interrogation had actually started to research that in collaboration with some Potions Masters. Of course, Fudge had kept the whole thing quiet; the public had no clue about Sirius' innocence.

Sirius' death had naturally turned Albus' thoughts towards Harry Potter. And nowadays, thoughts of the boy almost always would depress him. He had made so many mistakes in regards to the boy.

The first and the biggest mistake had been putting him with those reprehensible sorry excuses for human beings. Albus never would've suspected that Petunia could be so vindictive, hateful and petty that she would treat an innocent child like that.

Normally he would have removed Harry immediately and raised him himself if he couldn't find anybody else suitable. Unfortunately, that wasn't possible. For better or worse, Harry was safest there. So far, there had been three failed attempts at kidnapping the boy by fanatic Death Eaters who had managed to escape justice. The blood wards there had ensured their capture as well.

While he knew that Harry would now be able to take care of himself and could be hidden in an appropriately warded and guarded house like any one of the Potter properties he knew existed and heard a lot about, he still felt the need to send Harry to the Dursleys for the summer. Not for Harry's protection, but for theirs. The Dursleys might be reprehensible, and they might be the type of Muggles the Death Eaters would use as an example to justify their actions, but they were human beings nonetheless. Albus couldn't in good conscience allow them to fall at the hands of the Death Eaters when he could prevent it. Of course, he couldn't tell Harry that, for he was sure that the boy would resent him for that and do something foolish like run away. He hoped that the threats some of the Order members had given as he had instructed would make Harry's stay there easier.

But, at the same time, nobody should have been put through that and Albus never felt more ashamed of himself for knowingly putting a child in that situation. At least with Tom he truly hadn't known that the child had been bullied in the orphanage before gaining enough control of his magic to stave off the bullies in his orphanage. Nor did he know that Tom still had occasional problems with some of the older kids till the end of his fourth year.

In an effort to make up for all of that, and to ensure that Harry Potter didn't turn out to be another more powerful version of Tom Riddle (and Albus knew that the boy had far more magical potential than Voldemort) the aged headmaster had tried to give Harry as much love as possible. To that end, he had allowed so much leeway as far as the boy was concerned, even going so far as to bend the rules regarding First Years and brooms.

It was also the reason why he had sent Hagrid to collect the boy. The kindly half-giant would've definitely gone all the way to show Harry some amount of love and be the child's friend.

Albus had also gone ahead and helped introduce Harry to the Weasleys. He knew that Molly Weasley would ensure that Harry would get all of the love and attention that had been denied him those first ten dark years at his aunt's place as well as take care of Hagrid's unintended oversight in not telling the boy about the entrance to the platform.

While the idea of putting Harry up with the Weasleys was a good one, it came with its own flaws. Ron Weasley was by far the most uninspired and lazy boy Albus had the misfortune to meet. His laziness was actually contagious to the point that even he felt apathetic and lazy just by looking at the boy! And Harry being so vulnerable and unused to having or making friends had followed the youngest Weasley boy's footsteps in a way to appease him.

The addition of Hermione Granger to Harry's life had made things even worse. The girl was too bossy, competitive and secure in the superiority of her knowledge and opinions for her own good. In fact, she was the type of Muggleborn the Dark Families used as justification for their beliefs. The only people who could tolerate her were Harry and Ron (as he had to call him, since "Mr. Weasley" applied to seven of the Weasley children), and the latter only did so because of the former. Albus was also pretty sure that even the other Muggleborns in the school hated her. All in all, with her current attitude, he did not see her ever realising her dream of becoming Head Girl.

Why Harry couldn't become friends with someone sensible like Neville Longbottom was beyond him. The boy certainly had better table manners than Ron Weasley. Albus shuddered at that; he really admired the fortitude of the rest of Gryffindor house. Because nothing was more nauseating than sitting next to a person masticate while they talked to you, or being in the general vicinity of a person who insisted in masticating with their mouths open. The sounds you could hear from an openly chewing mouth ... he nearly lost his dinner thinking about it. Molly really should work on the boy's manners.

Hopefully, mentioning the prophecy and the similarity he had with young Mr. Longbottom would be enough of a catalyst in ensuring that Harry befriended the boy.

Looking back on it, he should have told the boy the first time about the prophecy or done something to inspire the lad to learn or train by himself. While Albus wouldn't have minded training him, he really wasn't a miracle worker.

How could he hope to bring an Eleven year old kid to the level of a Dark Lord who is more than Seventy years old? Especially when the same child wasn't willing to apply himself to his maximum potential?

The only thing he could hope to do was find a way to exploit the "power he knows not" as the prophecy stated. And the only thing that fit the criteria in relation to Voldemort was Harry's capacity to love.

How can you possibly train that?

Even making Ronald Weasley a prefect had failed in instilling any responsibility on the redheaded boy (a fact that Minerva had pointed out time and time again) Ron had also completely failed in looking out for Harry in school.

Albus hoped that inducting both him and Miss Granger as junior members of the Order this summer would somehow awaken a sense of duty and responsibility in both of them. He also hoped that Ms. Granger would finally get a hint and help Ron in that endeavour or at least take up the initiative herself. Then again, it seemed that the girl needed instructions in a text book on how to breathe, so he didn't have his hopes up. It seemed that Albus would need to actually tell her. At least the girl was smart enough that he wouldn't have to resort to being completely direct. Ah, kids these days, why couldn't they understand subtle prodding?

As an added incentive, he had started paying them from his own vault (secretly of course, wouldn't want the other members of the Order to start getting resentful about that) to ensure their services. It wasn't as if he would need the money anymore.

Molly, especially, would have to be kept in the dark; he didn't want her to know that he was supplying her son with more money. If she ever found out, he was sure that the woman's voice would reach such a high pitch and frequency that it would be capable of driving banshees away and rendering him deaf. She already had a hard time accepting the small sum Albus had set aside for her thanks to that damnable Prewitt pride of hers and he knew that it was only because of who and what he was to her that she had accepted the money. The points he had raised had also done a lot towards convincing her.

Albus really hated to see such a good family be so encumbered by something as petty and transient as a lack of adequate wealth. Besides, the Prewitts had given a lot of themselves in the last war, loosing much of their moderate wealth and properties (not to mention their male heirs, all but making the Prewitt line extinct) that the last of the Prewitts deserved some compensation. And taking care of seven children with an additional eighth later on did require funds. Especially when they had the task of showing the aforementioned eighth child some much needed fun in life; those Quidditch tickets weren't exactly free after all. He wondered how they managed to explain that away to Harry...

Albus raised his right hand and idly examined the cursed appendage. It really saddened him to know that Tom had gone to such depravity in order to ensure his immortality. As his eyes settled upon the stone set into the ugly ring on his finger, Albus cursed himself for his stupidity. He should've known that there was going to be a curse placed on that ring, but finally chancing upon the one Hallow he had been looking for all his life had eroded all of his good sense.

He should have died the moment he put that ring on. It was only through sheer willpower and the Elder Wand that Albus had managed to survive long enough to avail Severus' help. That would ensure that he lived long enough to see the end of the next school year. Though he wasn't too hopeful; from what Severus had told him, Tom had given Draco the task of assassinating him in an effort to punish Lucius Malfoy. It would seem that he would have to sacrifice his life by the end of this academic year to ensure the young man's wellbeing. Thankfully the boy hadn't been marked yet. Though he feared what would happen should Mr. Malfoy finally succeed.

Worse still was that Narcissa had somehow managed to get Severus to swear an Unbreakable Vow to help the boy complete the task Voldemort had set for him. Oh well, better to die on your own two feet by an Avada Kedavra than by spending the last few days of your life in the Hospital Wing fighting an incurable curse that might make Voldemort suspicious about the state of his Horcruxes. At least this way, he had the opportunity of saving two young lives. That oath gave him the added benefit of being able to bully Severus into giving him an honourable death. Why Severus was being such a girl over it was beyond him. He was dying anyway!

And speaking of which, there really hadn't been much in the way of attacks. From what Severus had told him, Voldemort's failed attempt at possession had severely weakened the Dark Lord. The only people who were permitted to see him were Severus, Bellatrix and Peter. As far as the average Death Eater was concerned, Tom was planning something big and was waiting for the best time to strike.

However, that didn't mean he wasn't active; he had, through Bellatrix, orchestrated a rash of Death Eater attacks on Muggles within a week after being exposed. Destroying a lot of property and ending many lives. Unfortunately Tom had not informed Snape of any of the attacks, as he had relied on Bellatrix to announce and occasionally take part in the attacks so Albus was caught as unawares as the Ministry about any attack. Not that he would be able to use the information, as it would put suspicion on Snape almost immediately. And Muggle lives, no matter how many weren't worth his only spy in Tom's ranks. Sacrifices would have to be made to ensure Tom's downfall. After all, as Gellert used to say, 'Zum Gröβeren Nutzen.'

At least the Order was able to thwart one of Tom's plans without risking Severus. It was indeed fortunate that young Miss Bones and her friend had managed to overhear that conversation between two Death Eaters without being caught and had told Nymphadora immediately. Amelia Bones as Minister would make it much harder for Tom to undermine the Ministry. She, unlike Scrimgeour, had a good head on her shoulders and would think before acting. Also, not much would get past her so infiltrating the Ministry wouldn't be that easy. She had also managed to appease the Muggle Prime Minister for the moment. Though he was still wary about her intentions in meeting Harry; what could she possibly want with the boy?

Another thing that had gone wrong for Tom had been Ollivander. None of the Death Eaters had been able to get past the old wand maker's wards. To say that Tom had been angry at both the failures would be an understatement. And the fact that Ollivander was still open and the only people that couldn't get in were his Death Eaters, assassins or mercenaries while any other wizard, witch or child could hadn't really helped improve the Dark Lord's temper that much either. He had immediately killed the poor recruit that had informed him of that.

Eventually Tom had been forced to give up on getting the wand maker when he found out that Ollivander's wards were capable of removing even the strongest of Imperius curses. Though Albus did not get his hopes up too high; Tom had always been persistent when it came to things he wanted

Unfortunately not all of Tom's endeavours had been a complete failure. He still managed to inspire terror in the wizarding community by carrying out a successful raid on Florean Fortescue's shop. There was no trace of Florean and Dumbledore hoped that his former classmate was still alive. Florean's family was still alive and had subsequently fled the country for the moment.

Another tragedy was the assassination of Emmiline Vance. She was a very talented witch, and an important member of the Order. Her loss would be deeply felt.

Albus pulled out his watch and noted the time. He would have to leave now if he wanted to be on time to pick Harry up. They would be taking a stop at his old colleague's current location. He hoped to convince Horace to return to teaching.

Like Albus, Horace knew a lot about the Dark Arts, and Tom had been unusually close to the man during his time at Hogwarts. So he would know or at least have a clue as to how many Horcruxes Tom had planned to make or had already made.

Harry was the one card he could use to guarantee Horace's return. The man wouldn't be able to resist being close to, and mentoring the Boy-Who-Lived. While Albus abhorred using others for his own means, he had no choice in the matter. He had to get Horace close to him so he could confirm his suspicions about Tom's Horcruxes. That memory he had been given last year when he was "on the run" from the Ministry as it were (as if they could catch him) was an obvious fake now that he had gotten the time to view it.

The man had immediately disappeared as Dumbledore expected and it was only now that Albus had managed to track him down.

As Albus reached the front gates, he cast a powerful disillusionment charm, actually rendering him invisible. Turning on his heel he disappeared with a whisper.

Reappearing at Privet Drive, he took a moment to survey the street and neatly organised houses slightly uncomfortably before taking his Deluminator out. This was one of his inventions; something he and Aberforth had come up with when they were young and innocent. He still kept it to remind himself of the times when he and Aberforth used to get along and do things together like real brothers. Before things had gone so wrong...

Shaking his head, he clicked the Deluminator, slowly and steadily putting off every light in the street. Once the street was dark, he removed the charm he had placed on himself. While the Wand helped in magnifying his already impressive powers, he still needed to conserve his magical energy. Especially because of the curse placed on him.

Stepping up to Number Four, he rang the doorbell, secretly delighted at using such a quaint muggle invention. Wizards technically didn't need to knock as the wards were enough to alert the owners of a house of the arrival of a visitor. Of course, one always knocked; it was the polite thing to do. And in these times, it didn't hurt to be too cautious.

The door opened to reveal the person he had come to collect. Though as he stepped into the hallway, he noticed a lot of changes had been wrought on the boy. Gone was the small and slightly undernourished teenager dressed in over-large clothes; in its place was a tall slim and athletic looking young lad tastefully dressed in clothes that fit him. His eyes, no longer behind those thick glasses were a faint luminescent green showcasing the awesome magical power he held at his fingertips. He also noted that the boy had grown quite a bit over the summer and was now almost as tall as he was.

Albus took a moment to study his face; what little youthful roundness that was there had vanished leaving a haughty and aristocratic face with heavy eyelids and a straight nose. His medium length black hair previously untameable was now falling elegantly over his eyes even though it was still a bit messy. Dumbledore knew that Harry would be attracting a lot of attention with his new looks. He also no longer looked like a carbon copy of James Potter, although some features of his face reminded Albus of somebody (he couldn't say who exactly). As Harry shifted, those thoughts left him as he noted the diamond stud glittering on Harry's left earlobe in surprise.

'Good evening Harry, I hope I find you in good health?' Casting his eyes around the house, he said, 'might I inquire about the whereabouts of your relatives?'

'Good evening sir, it's good to see you too,' said Harry, his voice now a smooth baritone, 'They left the house this morning to Aunt Marge's house and won't be back till the next week.'

'Ah, I see. Did this have anything to do with the news about my impeding arrival?'

'Well, they did seem eager on leaving when I told them about you visiting shortly sir,' said Harry with a hint of dark humour in his voice.

'Alas, I was hoping they were around. I wanted to have a few words with them,' said Dumbledore absently.

Harry didn't mention that he had managed to knock all three of his relatives out with a lovely spell he had found in Curses and Counter Curses. It simulated being hit over the head with a pan and was far more powerful than the version Malfoy had used on him in Second Year. Needless to say, the each of the Dursleys will be waking up with a killer headache the next morning. Especially Aunt Petunia (he had taken special care to ensure that she had a more than adequate experience of that sensation, using repetition as his main technique).

Harry excused himself for a moment to get his things. He had already gotten his trunk packed this morning and gotten Dobby to restore the room back to its original condition. Harry had recently gained a new appreciation for the little elf. He had managed to heal the piercing Harry had gotten in his ear a few days back in a matter of minutes. Of course, by that time, Harry swore never to listen to pretty girls again. He still wasn't sure that the stud made him look "sexy". Personally he felt like a chav. The end result had certainly been worth it; he had lost his virginity to her after all. Besides, Bill had an earring too, so it couldn't be all that bad. At least he had been able to get a proper diamond and white-gold stud. It really did sparkle nicely...

Harry picked up his new multi-compartment trunk (another impulse buy) with its inbuilt feather-light charm as well as Hedwig's empty cage. The owl couldn't have flown out of there faster upon hearing that she may be transported via portkey.

Getting down, Harry could just hear Dumbledore putting on the finishing touches on a howler he had made for the Dursleys detailing the number of ways they had failed their nephew and what terrible parents they were.

Harry rolled his eyes. The man really needed to work on his timing. He was fifteen years eight months one week and an hour too late as far as Harry was concerned (not that he was counting). And it wasn't as if the Dursleys cared about what Dumbledore had to say. Though, Harry smirked, they would certainly care about the little going away presents he had set for them!

His howler finished, Dumbledore placed it on the dining table and turned towards Harry. 'There is one other matter I want to discuss with you. I think you might want to sit down for this' he said in a kind voice leading Harry to the living room and ushering him onto the sofa there. Sitting down on Vernon's favourite chair and facing Harry, he continued, 'It involves Sirius' will. Now that part is simple enough as he has left everything to you. Meaning that a sizeable chunk of gold has been added to your vault along with the house in Grimmauld Place,' he paused for a while wholly misinterpreting Harry's reaction to that statement.

'The problem is that the Blacks had in all probability put in place protections to ensure that only the next male Black may inherit anything, including the ancestral house. This is why we have temporarily vacated Grimmauld Place to ensure that Narcissa or Bellatrix cannot come in to claim it as Draco would be the next male with Black blood in him as we were not sure if Sirius' request could be fully carried out. Thus, I have thought up a test to see if you have truly inherited the house.'

Harry barely managed to suppress a triumphant smirk. It seemed that he had managed to one up Dumbledore. Though the lying old twat hadn't once seen fit to inform him about the full extent of his wealth even though now was the perfect opportunity.

'Now I don't want you to worry about the test, it's nothing too onerous,' said Dumbledore again misinterpreting the cause of Harry's grimace. He clicked his fingers and called for Kreacher.

At once the sullen and ancient house-elf appeared in front of Harry. Kreacher hadn't taken kindly to being assisted by other house-elves and it was only after some extensive orders given by Harry that he had kept his cursing and muttering down to a minimum. Otherwise, Harry was sure that the elf would have been throwing a major, violent and deafeningly loud tantrum at the moment. Quickly getting the hint, Harry ordered the elf to shut his mouth with as much venom as possible. He had to keep up appearances after all. Not that it was hard; he did hate the little shit after all.

'Well, now that's settled,' said Dumbledore clapping his hands, 'what do you plan to do with it all?'

Wow, he's actually letting me make my own decisions, thought Harry sarcastically. Schooling his features, he said in a perfectly innocent voice, 'I suppose that the Order could continue using it for the moment. Unless of course you have found a better place...'

'Oh no Harry, Grimmauld Place will be more than adequate,' said Dumbledore looking slightly relieved, I bet he was planning on coercing me otherwise thought Harry darkly.

Turning to Kreacher, Harry said sternly, 'Go back to Grimmauld Place. Watch over the house and see that it's clean. Am I clear?' Seeing the elf nod, Harry smiled, 'Good, dismissed.'

'Was that necessary?' Asked Dumbledore after Kreacher disappeared. He had a sombre expression on his face.

Harry just shrugged. He was unwilling to let his true feelings known. He also found that he was beginning to care less about the headmaster's opinions.

Dumbledore took a moment to look at Harry for a while before getting up, followed by the younger wizard. 'Where are we going and how will we be getting there sir?'

'I will be dropping you off at the Burrow as you know, but first, I wish to make a stop at a house of my former colleague's. I hope to convince him out of retirement to teach for this year at least. As you know, we are one staff member short,' said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling, 'In fact, I think you will be able to properly convince him Harry.'

It didn't take long for Harry to figure out what Dumbledore meant by that statement. It seemed that the person they were going to be visiting was either a fan or a simpering buffoon and Dumbledore wanted to use Harry's status as Boy-Who-Lived (or "the chosen one," as he was known as these days) to get the person to teach. Harry sighed mentally; it looked like he would be having another year of a crappy incompetent Defence teacher. This time, he didn't know if he was in the mood to help train his school mates. He certainly doubted he had the time to teach them anything, considering all the training he planned to be doing in secret.

Dumbledore strode out into the hallway and stood near Harry's trunk. He examined it for a minute and after getting Harry to remove his Invisibility cloak, waved his wand at the trunk and cage making both of them disappear.

'Your possessions are now at the Burrow,' he explained looking at Harry's raised eyebrow.

At least you asked Harry thought sarcastically. He just smiled at Dumbledore in response, making sure to reinforce his Occlumency shields.

'Shall we? We do have a lot to do tonight,' said Dumbledore, seeing Harry agree, he opened the door and ushered the teen outside.

The walk down the street was filled with an uncomfortable silence. Harry did not know what to feel. While he still resented Dumbledore for his meddling, his interactions with the headmaster in the past few years he had been at Hogwarts had instilled a sense of awe in him some of which was still there even though last year had brought with it the realisation that his idol had feet of clay. Harry still couldn't decide if the man truly cared for him or saw him as a weapon or if his placement at the Dursleys was for his protection and not for another more sinister reason.

There was also the fact that he never had a conversation with the headmaster outside Hogwarts before. A desk had always been there between them as well as some formality.

Dumbledore, however, seemed completely relaxed.

'Keep your wand at the ready, Harry,' he said brightly.

'But I thought I wasn't supposed to use magic outside the school, sir?' Harry said putting on a confused look. He did not want to let on that he had been doing magic the past few weeks. Or that he had been using it to get his vengeance on the Dursleys. After all, he was walking next to the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.

'If we are ever attacked tonight, I give you full permission to use any counter-jinx or –curse that comes to your mind.' Said Dumbledore, 'However, you will not need to fear an attack at this time.'

'Er, why not, sir?'

'Because you are with me,' Dumbledore said simply, arrogant sod. 'This will do, Harry,'

The duo stopped at the end of Privet Drive. Dumbledore then took out a lighter and with a click, sent balls of light zooming back to the streetlamps, bathing Privet Drive with a sudden orange glare much to Harry's amazement.

Putting the lighter out of the way, Dumbledore turned to Harry and holding out his arm, said, 'I presume that you haven't passed your Apparition test?'

Harry nodded affirmatively, not bothering to mention that while he hadn't been tested, he could still Apparate flawlessly, 'If you would grab hold of my arm Harry, I will take us to our new destination. If you don't mind, I would prefer that it be the left arm as my wand arm is rather fragile at the moment.'

Harry just then noticed the rather dead looking hand in surprise and wondered why he hadn't noticed it before.

'Sir- what happened to your-'

'I got complacent. I regret that I cannot tell you the full story at the moment as we do not have enough time. The story is rather exciting, and I promise to tell it to you later on when I can do it full justice. Now if you please?'

Grabbing the proffered arm, Harry was side-Apparated away for the first time. He immediately felt the difference between side-Apparition and doing it on your own. The squeezing sensation was slightly more pronounced causing him a bit of discomfort.

He opened his eyes to find himself in an empty village square, in the centre of which was an old war memorial and a few benches. He spied a nearby sign that indicated that he was in the village of Budleigh Babberton.

'Are you all right?' asked Dumbledore, looking at Harry in the eye, 'The sensation does take some getting used to.' The lad seemed to be surprisingly composed considering that it was his first time. Not for the first time that night he registered that Harry was as tall as he was, and may later outstrip Dumbledore himself in height.

Harry just shrugged, 'It definitely is better than the Floo or Portkey,' he said, 'I cannot wait to learn it myself!' He hoped this covered any suspicions the headmaster may have had at Harry being used Apparition.

Dumbledore smiled, drew his travelling cloak a bit tighter around his neck and said, 'This way.'

He set off at a brisk pace past an empty inn and a few houses. According to a clock on a nearby church, it was nearly midnight.

'So tell me Harry,' said Dumbledore. 'Has your scar been hurting at all?'

'No,' said Harry fingering his scar and if I am right, it won't be happening ever again, he added silently. He glanced back at Dumbledore to see the old wizard was wearing a satisfied expression.

'I thought not,' he said absently. 'Lord Voldemort has finally realised the dangerous access you have been enjoying to his thoughts. His attempt at possessing you has also weakened him significantly, so I imagine that he is employing Occlumency against you.'

Harry just nodded in reply not bothering to tell the old man his suspicions.

They proceeded up a steep narrow street lined with houses. The odd chill that had recently settled over Privet Drive persisted here too reminding Harry of Dementors. His wand hand twitched, as he cast a look over his shoulder, ready at a moment's notice to summon his wand into his hand, half expecting them to pop up at any moment. According to the Prophet, they had recently joined Voldemort's ranks and were now running amok, breeding (Harry did not want to think about how).

'Professor, I saw in the Daily Prophet that Fudge has been sacked ...'

'Correct,' said Dumbledore, 'He has been replaced by Amelia Bones, the former head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.'

'Is she any good?'

'She is able, most certainly. I doubt that she would underestimate Lord Voldemort. She also is a natural leader and was quite a force in the First Wizarding War.'

'I also read about her attack as well ...'

'Ah yes,' said Dumbledore quietly. 'It was indeed fortunate that her niece overheard that conversation. Otherwise things might have ended differently.'

So Susan kept her promise after all, I hope she is alright ... thought Harry.

They finally came to a sudden stop at the small neat stone house they were approaching. Harry had just noticed the front door hanging off its hinges.

'Wand out and follow me Harry,' said Dumbledore quietly as he moved silently up the garden path.

Harry followed the Headmaster, jerking his wand arm downward and flicking his wrist at the end to bring his wand out of its holster and into his hand. He used the techniques he had learnt from years of sneaking around at Number Four to walk as fast as possible while still staying silent, keeping his knees slightly bent and looking around for possible threats.

In the end, he need not have worried. It seemed that Horace Slughorn (for that was Dumbledore's colleague's name) had been faking the whole thing after all. Harry was a bit irritated at himself that he hadn't noticed the lack of a Dark Mark, but that could not be helped. The man had done a good job in such a short time anyway.

Though curiously, he could somehow sense that the overstuffed armchair lying on its side was actually a wizard pretending and not the real thing.

Slughorn's tactics of hiding in Muggle neighbourhoods in empty houses along with his ingenious (if hasty) illusion that he had thrown up gave Harry the impression of a consummate Slytherin. The hungry look he had given Harry along with his showing off of the many movers and shakers of the wizarding world that he had met and influenced only served to reinforce that image.

Harry played his part perfectly. As soon as Dumbledore excused himself to the loo, he started buttering the man up and extolling the virtues of being at Hogwarts. He played at every weakness he knew the short rotund old man possessed to convince him. He felt a bit dirty doing that and slightly resentful of Dumbledore for using him in such a fashion. But right now he could care less. It was getting late and he wanted to sleep. Besides, if half of Slughorn's stories were true, he would be useful to Harry in the future.

One thing Harry could not help but shake off was the feeling that he knew the man from somewhere. Which was odd seeing as he would have remembered meeting the man before; he did have some distinguishing features after all.

When Dumbledore took that moment to make his entrance, Harry knew that he had succeeded, (if the slight twinkle in his eye was any indication). Harry had the feeling that the crafty old man had been lurking just outside the room listening in and not in the bathroom looking at knitting patterns as he claimed. Harry idly figured that Dumbledore would have been a good Slytherin too. What with the way he had positioned Harry and masterfully taken control of the situation. Because by the time they had left, Slughorn had practically begged for the position (at least as much begging a Slytherin would do).

As Harry grasped Dumbledore's arm again in preparation to being Apparated to the Burrow, he reflected on the strange flashback he had when seeing that ring on Dumbledore's finger when he had briefly displayed it in front of Slughorn.

He was standing over a middle-aged man, looking at the handsome features (so much like his own) contorted in shock, pain and fear. Right behind his victim lay a much older couple, clearly dead. He took a minute to savour the moment before a flash of green light later, the man was just as dead as the elderly couple. This was followed by an intense pain in his chest.

Harry had barely managed to conceal his reactions on seeing the ring. Again, like the cup, he could not tell what that vision meant. Also, this time the pain (while still imaginary) was a bit more pronounced. It had taken all of his willpower not to let a sound escape his lips.

Harry barely paid attention to Dumbledore's heavily veiled attempt at scaring him away from Slughorn. While he didn't really like the man, he did find him likeable enough. For one, his very own mother was a favourite of the professor's. Another plus point was that they both shared a hatred of Umbridge. Slughorn had actually gone on to say that the Centaurs deserved a medal for their assistance in rendering her insane.

So engrossed was he in his thoughts that he almost did not notice that he had been Apparated again to Ottery St. Catchpole. Quickly gathering his wits about him, he followed Dumbledore and let himself be ushered into Mr. Weasley's shed where the interrogation began.

While he was expecting to be grilled about things, it nevertheless irritated him. What business was it of Dumbledore's where he had gotten his new clothes and what he had done to his eyes? What right did he have to ask him about the trunk either?

Harry answered the questions by lying through his teeth. He explained the clothes away as the rewards of a summer job he had gotten in the local bookstore, and the eyes to a Muggle surgery. The trunk's existence was attributed to an owl order form. Harry was a bit surprised that Dumbledore hadn't been asked about his piercing.

Harry made sure to keep his Occlumency shields up and was glad he had done so when he felt the old man trying to invade his thoughts, angering him.

Dumbledore had the good sense to withdraw almost immediately. He figured that Harry had managed to learn some Occlumency after all. It pleased him to know that placing the lad with Severus hadn't been such a bad idea after all. After satiating his curiosity about Harry's mental health and talking to him about some private lessons, he walked the boy to Molly's doorstep.

It seemed to Albus that Harry was finally ready to face his destiny and become a leader, if the way he stood up to him was any indication. Now all that was left to do was to guide and prepare him. It was about time really, he should have told the boy the prophecy five years ago...

Oh well, there was no use crying over spilled potion. After all, things were going as planned.