Chapter 32: A Cat, A Toad And Almighty Albus

They found nothing in the Chamber that night. The next few nights they continued their search in the dungeons.

They searched the entire night.

At first Harry was able to cover his lack of sleep; he had gone without sleep for days before. But at the beginning of the week after, his lack of sleep started to show.

That Friday night, Harry had finally decided that they wouldn't find out where the Horcrux was hidden by simply searching the castle. Oh, he was reasonably sure that they would find the Horcrux eventually - but he also was reasonably sure that it would take decades to be even close to finding it without aid.

They needed something else to aid them in their search.

So instead of searching, Harry sat down that night and started to develop a ward to aid them with their task.

Developing a ward was a hideous, complicated and nerve-wracking task. His ward needed to be tuned to the wards that had been previously placed around the castle for protection - but Harry did not know all of the wards that were in place. So developing a ward was nearly impossible and absolutely frustrating.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked, and before Harry could stop her she had taken his parchment to look it over.

Maybe he shouldn't have taken it out in the Gryffindor common room to work on it, but Harry was so tired that he had not even thought about where he was before he started to work again on his problem.

Oh, he was so tired! He needed to sleep but he couldn't - not until he finally had a clue about the whereabouts of the Horcrux!

So instead of thinking of a possible explanation to why his parchment was filled with odd equations and symbols he just stared dumbly at Hermione while she looked over his work.

"Harry! What are you doing?" she asked him. Her voice trembled and she looked at him oddly.

"Huh?" he definitely needed sleep.

"This!" she waved with his work in front of his nose. "What is this? I'm sure that this is definitely nothing for school, so what are you doing?!"

"Er…" he stuttered while trying to find a suitable explanation.

Oh, he was so tired!

"No… not school related," he finally said, slurring slightly. "Just something I decided to try out after reading about it in the library."

"Harry! This looks like Arithmancy to me! Why would you look at an Arithmancy book in the library?"

"Er… it was lying around and it looked interesting," Harry replied, waving her question away with his hand. "It's definitely more complicated than it looks like."

"Of course it is!" Hermione said snorting. "There is a reason why Arithmancy is a class! And whatever book you found definitely wasn't a beginner's book! There are too many variables to even try to get a conclusion! And what are these symbols? Did you make them up?"

Harry looked again at his parchment in her hands to the place where her index finger pointed.

She was pointing at the Parseltongue runes he had used for his ward - or at least the Parseltongue runes he had been able to calculate where to put. He had still some runes in his head he was sure he needed for the ward to work, but was unable to place them because he did not have enough data to do so.

He definitely needed the self-updating book on the school wards!

"Harry?" Hermione said in that moment, looking at him concerned. "Are you all right?"

"Er… yeah… just tired, you know?" Harry answered while he tried to shake away his exhaustion.

"So… what are these?" she pointed again at the Parseltongue runes.

"Runes," he said sincerely, too tired to make something up.

Hermione snorted.

"Those aren't runes, Harry," she said and then shook her head. "You know what? If you really want to learn runes and arithmancy, just ask me! We're friends! If you're interested in something like that, say so and I will teach you! Just don't try to do it on your own! Arithmancy can be dangerous for those who don't know what they're doing. Think about it! You could create a new curse with arithmancy and no one could help you because no one would know how to treat that curse you created by doing something half-assed!"

Harry just stared blankly at the lecturing girl in front of him.

Then Hermione turned to the fire.

"Let's throw away that try and start at the beginning," she suggested and her hand extended to the flames, parchment in it.

"No!" this definitely had woken Harry up again.

He leaped out of his seat and snatched the parchment from her grip before she could feed it to the flickering flames.

She stared at him with huge eyes, definitely not sure what to make of his reaction.

Harry pressed the parchment to his chest. Then his actions caught up to him and he blushed.

He, of course, knew that she had wanted to destroy more than forty eight hours' worth of hard work - but Hermione didn't know that. For her, the majority of it was unsolveable equations and some scribbles. She had no idea that the thing she had in her hand was an unfinished ward - and it would at least take another year of studying for her to recognize the importance of his parchment - and at least another ten years until she understood the rudimentary principles of what he was trying to do.

There was, after all, a reason why there weren't a lot of warders in the wizarding world.

"Er… I don't want you destroy it. Even if it is rubbish - it was my first try," he explained to Hermione with red cheeks.

She frowned.

"Harry," she finally said slowly. "Whatever you did - it could be dangerous! Arithmancy is not just equations and calculations. It's magic! And Professor Vector said it could end horribly if done wrong!"

"Er… if I promise not to work on it anymore, would it be alright to keep it?" Harry asked sighing.

Hermione hesitated. Then she also sighed.

"Alright - keep this rubbish. But at least let me explain how it's normally done!" And with that, she hurried off to her dorm to find her third year Arithmancy text book.

Harry sighed silently.

He was sure that Hermione would lecture him for a few hours until she was satisfied.

"It seems like I'll have to take a break after all," he mused.

If he just could use that break to sleep, not waste precious time listening to Hermione's pointless jabbering!

At that moment, Hermione returned with her book and Harry resigned himself to 'learn' what he already knew…

"The next time I see her doing something wrong I'll do the same to her," he thought grudgingly. Maybe then she'd finally understand how others felt when she started to lecture them: like an idiot.

Not that Harry actually felt like an idiot. He simply felt as if Hermione thought him an idiot - after all, when he truly started to be 'suddenly' interested in Arithmancy, why did she assume that he didn't start at the beginning! Even a dunderhead should know that you had to crawl before you could walk!

But - that was Hermione. She was simply blind to how she treated the other students around her the most of the time.

So when she returned, Harry set aside his work and concentrated on her improper lesson.

He would get her for this. Even if he died trying!

And maybe, if he hadn't been so tired, he would have seen someone copying his work and stowing the copy away. Then the unequal, suspicious eyes returned to the lecture Harry was being given, assessing the boy who was listening to his female friend closely.

There was definitely something strange going on with Harry Potter…

Bill Weasley was finally having his lunch break. The day had been strenuous. They had broken down the wards of a dozen vaults, and had then started to ward those vaults again. This was a security measure of Gringotts': every six or seven months the wards on the vaults were changed. Sometimes they just added to the existing wards, sometimes the goblins moved the contents of the vault to a temporary vault and broke down all the wards, just to ward the vaults again with a different sort of warding.

At least these constant changes made it extremely difficult for a thief to get into the vaults.

But it was strenuous to break down wards - especially the strong wards of the goblin enchanters.

Well, Bill had chosen his job, so he definitely couldn't complain.

"You've got lunch break, lad?" a voice suddenly asked and Bill turned from his meagre meal in the Leaky Cauldron to look at the man who spoke to him.

"Moody," he greeted. "What brings you here?"

Bill knew that the paranoid ex-Auror definitely wouldn't have started at conversation with him if he didn't need anything or didn't want to tell Bill anything.

"I have something you should take a look at," Moody said. "I want to know what you think of it."

Bill frowned but gestured for Moody to show him.

The ex-Auror took out a rumpled looking parchment and laid it down on the table.

"Tell me what you see," the paranoid man demanded. "I know that those calculations aren't random, but I never took Arithmancy beyond fifth year."

Bill turned the paper to look it over.

At first the scribbles on one side of the paper looked like doodling, but when Bill assessed the calculations on the parchment he soon suspected them to be something more.

"That's a ward," he finally said, a bit surprised by his answer. He hadn't been sure what he was looking at until he had said it aloud.

"A ward?" Moody repeated, looking it over again.

Bill nodded and pointed to the scribbles.

"These are runes. I don't know the alphabet but I know that they have to be runes. The calculations are their placement in the unfinished ward."

"What will the ward do if it is applied somewhere?" Moody looked at the parchment with an odd look in his eyes.

Bill frowned and looked again at the calculations. He couldn't read the runes so he was unable to determine what they stood for - to guess the use of an unfinished wards with just the calculations and without runes he could understand was difficult.

"I'm not quite sure," he finally answered. "I can't read the runes so it's hard to guess what the ward is for."

"So… the ward could be used to harm someone?" Moody definitely sounded troubled when he asked that.

Bill blinked and looked again at the calculations.

"No," he said earnestly. "There is no way that this ward could be harmful."

"I thought that you couldn't determine the purpose of this ward," Moody instigated clarification.

"I can't," Bill answered, shrugging. "I would need the knowledge of the language used and the runes' meaning to be sure what the ward will do. But the calculations give me an educated guess about what it might be used for."

"How can some equations give you a guess like that?"

"Simple. There are some equations written down here that calculate the placement of shield-runes. I don't know which shield-runes are calculated, but I do know that shield-runes are calculated - and shield-runes can't be used for dark purposes."

"So… no harming, maiming or killing?" Moody asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes. No harming, maiming or killing," Bill answered. "If I had to guess I would think that the ward is a detector of some kind. The ward's not ready so it's a wild guess but the beginnings of a kind of harm, torture or dark detector can be read out of this calculation…" Bill pointed at one of the calculations with a lot of variables.

"Whoever wrote and calculated the ward will still need a lot of data until he can even think about applying the ward somewhere."

Moody looked down at the parchment.

"If I told you the writer of this parchment is at Hogwarts - would that change your interpretation of the wards?" he finally asked Bill. Bill just shook his head.

"Wherever the ward is applied - it cannot be used for anything but either shielding people from forms of darkness or detecting darkness. There is nothing else you can do with these calculations - even if you added another dozen to the ones you have here."

"So it's a simple shield or detection ward?" Moody asked. As an Auror he had sometimes seen simple wards in both categories, but he had never thought that it would take so much calculation to set them up.

"No," Bill answered sincerely. "The ward might be a shield or detection ward - but it's definitely not simple. This -" Bill tapped the parchment with his index finger to empathize his words. "… Is one of the most complex wards I have seen until today. It's easily on a par with the goblin wards for their clan-leader's vaults. It's very specialized, and this specialization is what makes it so complicated."

"Specialized? In what way?"

Bill shrugged.

"I couldn't say," he answered. "I would have to be able to read the runes to tell you."

"Is there anything else you can tell?"

Bill shrugged.

"Not much. Whoever wrote the ward knows exactly what he or she is doing. The calculations are precise and to the point - most beginners have a lot of runes in their runic circles or rune chains that aren't needed. That won't change without time and practice. These rune chains -" Bill pointed at the foreign runes. "… Are precise and to the point. Whoever did the Arithmancy has definitely done some other wards before. And I am not talking about simple wards but wards like Gringotts, the Ministry or perhaps even Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts?"

Bill shrugged.

"I never returned to Hogwarts after I graduated and finished my apprenticeship in curse-breaking, so I've never seen the wards of Hogwarts as a trained curse-breaker. Because of that I can't tell," he answered sincerely. "But they have to be on a par with the Ministry at least. There's a reason, after all, why Hogwarts is known as the most secure place in the British Wizarding World."

Moody nodded and took back the parchment.

Shield wards or detection wards…

"What is the imposter playing at?" Moody wondered silently.

It was definitely not what he had thought before…

"Thank you," he said to Bill and left.

Moody would wonder the rest of the day about Harry Potter - or, rather, the person that was pretending to be the boy.

Arthur Weasley stared at the letter he'd received this morning. He had been reading it all day, not really sure what to do with it.

"I'm home," resounded the voice of his eldest son.

Bill was working on a project in Britain and had returned to the Burrow for the time being. And he wasn't the only one. Charlie had also returned - he was on vacation for a month, taking the time to see his family again.

"Anybody home?"

"I'm in the kitchen," Arthur answered, still fiddling with the letter.

What should he do?

"Hey, Dad!" Bill greeted while entering the kitchen.

"Hello, Bill," Arthur answered absentmindedly.

"Dad? You okay?" Bill stopped when his father did not greet him like he did normally.

"Huh? Yes, yes… everything's fine," Arthur answered, still staring at the letter.

"You don't sound like everything's fine," Bill said warily.

As an answer, Arthur sighed.

"I got a letter today," he finally answered. "I'm not sure how to respond to it…"

"Can you show me?"

If it was something from his work, there might be a restriction on it and people who did not work in the Ministry or even on this particular case might not be allowed to see it or even know about it.

Arthur tossed his son the letter.

"It's also addressed to you and Charlie," he said. "So of course you can look at it."

Bill took the letter and looked at it.

To the Head of the House Weasley, his Heir and his second-born son,

Children of the House of Weasley, you have lived in honor of your ancestors. You have lived bravely; you have lived true to your ideals. You have followed the way of your ancestors. I declare you children of a beloved daughter of my House. As such I will cherish you and aid you in your time of need. You are granted entrance in my family.

Children of the extinguished House of Prewett, your members have proven to have the courage to live their lives slyly and they have proven to have the courage to stand by their allies. I declare you children of a beloved minor son of my House. As such I will redeem your claim and return you to your rightful place. You are subjects to my House and I will take you in as mine.

I invite you back in my family.

Answer my call, descendants of my House, and return to your rightful place.

Hold on, I will take you home this Saturday at midnight.

I swear on my soul and magic you will be safe until you return.

The Head of the Family

"A summoning?" Bill asked, astonished.

He had heard about summonings before. Normally something like that just occurred in major Houses. The Weasleys had no power, and as such, were not very interesting allies.

But the letter wasn't about allies. It was about family.

So it definitely couldn't be a simple summoning. Bill knew just one occasion that would grant the Weasley family a summoning.

"A Grand Family?!" Bill said, still staring at the letter. "Mum is the descendant of a minor son of a Grand Family?!"

A Grand Family was a family with branch families. There was just one occasion when something like that happened: a younger son had to marry the female heir of another family. The younger son would give up his name, but his alliance would still be with his family. As such, a branch family is created and allied with the Grand Family and protected by it. An alliance with that couldn't be broken and it would exist until the branch family renounced their Grand Family or until the connection was forgotten. Long ago, there had been numerous Grand Families but the connections had been forgotten or renounced by so many, that now there weren't many Grand Families left.

Bill knew of just a few.

Fudge's family was one of them, the other one Dumbledore's. There was also a rumour about the Ollivander Family and their connection to the Lovegoods, but the rumour had never been proven or renounced by either of the families.

Nevertheless, Grand Families, while practical for the allied families, were seldom. Bill had heard about them because he was a part of Gringotts, and the alliance between Grand and branch family was not just political but also financial, but Bill had never thought that his own family could belong to a Grand Family.

And belonging to one was definitely a favor for lesser or minor Houses. The Grand Family granted their subjects a small allowance and also aided them politically and in private. Even the most prominent and politically powerful Houses would not turn down and invitation like that lightly…

"What should I do, Bill?" Arthur asked his eldest.

"We should go," Bill answered instantly. "We don't know the House that summoned us - and we won't be able to know until it is announced in the Wizengamot - but we can't turn down an invitation like that. Just the option of belonging to a Grand Family could aid us…"

"I don't think Albus will like that," Arthur sighed.

This time Bill pressed his lips together.

He respected the Headmaster. He really did. But… sometimes Bill resented the old man. Of course, the Headmaster was wise and had seen a lot, but Bill could not forget that even if the Headmaster had lived longer than them, he was still human. Bill had heard of a two hundred year old goblin being fired for disrespect after working on the accounts for over a hundred years. If goblins that old were able to make mistakes like that, then the Headmaster wasn't any better.

And this was a family matter.

Oh, Bill was sure that Albus Dumbledore would advise his father if he asked. Albus Dumbledore would tell them not to take the chance, after all the family was unknown and would stay unknown until it announced itself before the Wizengamot. Until then, the Weasleys could just decide to join or to renounce the family because of the persons that would belong to the Grand Family.

Albus Dumbledore would never let the Head of the Weasley family take this risk. But Bill knew that the risk still could be worth it.

"And I don't think you should tell him, Dad," Bill said finally, challenging his father to not follow the lead of the Leader of the Light this time. "This is a family matter. He does not need to know about this potential ally of ours. He has no right to even know."

Bill knew he sounded a little bit anti-Dumbledore, but he hated how the meddling old man was trying to spur his family to his liking. And this time, he finally could voice his resentment without sounding as if he hated the man - because he definitely didn't. He respected him. He just couldn't stand his meddling ways!

Silence was the answer.

For a moment, Bill was nervous how his father would react, but when his father looked up Bill was glad that he'd decided to tell him straight to his face that Dumbledore had no right to meddle in their affairs.

"You're right," Arthur said finally after another minute of silence. "This is a family matter. Call your brother and tell him to be ready. We'll head out on Saturday."

Bill smiled and left the room to do as he was told.

He was really interested what family had decided to invite them in - and even if he wasn't allowed to know the name of the family until it announced it in front of the Wizengamot, they were still allowed to get to know the Head of the House.

Maybe, just maybe, Bill would be able to recognize him…

The day after his improper lesson in Arithmancy, Harry was tired and lacking concentration in class. He had stayed up late after his 'lesson' to continue his work on the wards. That he had found out that someone had copied his parchment sometime yesterday evening did not lighten his mood at all.

Harry had a spell on his parchments to show if it had been copied - and the parchment with his warding on it had definitely shown the signs. Harry just couldn't tell who had done it.

"At least it wasn't ready," he thought to himself. "The warding scheme will still change enough that the copy won't be of any use to whoever has it…"

Still, it was worrisome.

So instead of sleeping he had worked further on the wards before hiding his parchment. This time it had better not be copied again! He had enough on his plate without adding further workload to his shoulders by inventing a complicated safety net to his ward scheme!

But he added at least a simple one that night, before he finally fell into bed at four fifty in the morning.

When he woke up he was still tired, but he got up like always and headed down to breakfast after doing some morning workouts. Of course, the original Harry never had been in the habit of doing anything like that, but Harry could not live without it. He had long ago started practicing his fencing before eating breakfast.

So he left the tower, practiced in an unused classroom, returned, showered and woke Ron like always. They ate breakfast together with Hermione, and after that headed to Transfiguration.

It was there the near-disaster happened.

He was sleep-deprived and definitely couldn't think all too clearly that morning so instead of 'struggling' with the new spell like always he simply did it - wordlessly.

For a second he stared featherbrained at the completed spell - a full tea set with a checkered pattern - before his mind caught on and he hurriedly reversed the spell back to the raven it was before.

"Harry! Did you just manage the spell immediately?" Hermione said, looking at his raven with huge eyes.

Harry wanted to groan.

"What?" he asked instead and shook his head. "I haven't even tried the spell yet…"

A pathetic lie - but he was definitely unable to make up another one.

Hermione stared at him, calculating.

"Are you sure that your raven wasn't a tea set a moment ago?" she asked him.

"No, I'm sure that it was a tea set a moment ago," Harry answered her sincerely. "I merely told you that I didn't cast the spell."

Hermione raised her eyebrow.

"But I saw you swishing your wand!" she said.

"I did," Harry answered. "I wanted to practice the movement again before I tried. But I swear to you, I never said the spell!"

Which was true, after all…

"So how…?"

"I don't know. I'm too tired to think about an explanation," Harry answered tiredly. "Think up one for yourself - you're the wise one in our group after all!"

Hermione snorted, but her eyes suddenly looked concerned.

"Harry, are you all right?" Hermione finally asked him hesitatingly.

"Er… Yes, I am," Harry answered.

"You don't look like it. To tell the truth, ever since a few days ago you look like death walked all over you," Hermione answered. "And you don't act like you're alright. I've watched you since the beginning of the school year. Harry - something is amiss with you!"

"I'm fine, Hermione," Harry answered. "I'm just tired."

"Of course you are," Ron snorted. "You've left the tower every night since Wednesday, and you come back just before the others wake up. Where do you go at night? What are you doing?"

Harry looked at his friend. He had not thought that his friend was so observant.

"I… nothing," he finally answered tiredly. He was not up to lying at the moment.

Ron just snorted.

"We're your best friends, Harry! Please, tell us - what in Merlin's name is bothering you?" Hermione said.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"You are not."

"Please…" In that moment Professor McGonagall came by and they stopped talking. But that didn't mean his friends let it go. Instead they just waited until after class to pester him again.

"Harry! We're your friends, so please, tell us what's wrong!" Hermione said.

"Nothing," Harry repeated.

"It's definitely not nothing!"

"If you think so," Harry finally answered and stood up. "I'm going to bed. I need to get some sleep or I'll fall asleep in detention today."

And with that he left the room.

Hermione stood nervously in front of the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office. Next to her stood Ron. Both were looking at the gargoyle.

"Do you really think we should…?" Ron asked, hesitating.

"We have to," Hermione answered, straitening her back. "There's no other option. We don't know if something is wrong - Dumbledore is one of the most powerful wizards alive. I'm sure he'd know if something is wrong."

"But… what if…"

"We have to, Ron - or do you really want a repeat of our second year?" She was talking about Ginny and the possession she had suffered that time.

Ron shook his head frantically.

"Alright, let's go," Hermione said and raised her hand to knock. Before she could even touch the gargoyle, it opened the way for them. Again Hermione and Ron exchanged a glance, and then they stepped on the stairs, which were gliding up to the Headmaster's office much like a circular escalator.

There, Hermione knocked on the door.

"Come in, Miss Granger, Mister Weasley," the Headmaster said and the troubled teenagers entered. "How may I help you today?"

"Uh…" Hermione looked at Ron. Ron looked at Hermione.

"It's… it's Harry," Hermione finally said. "He's behaving oddly."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

"Oddly, Miss Granger?"

"Yes, sir," she answered. "He's not behaving like he was last year."

"Explain, please, Miss Granger."

"Well… he suddenly knows things he never knew before - like potions. He should've had no way to learn to brew as perfectly as he suddenly does while at his aunt's, yet he suddenly knows more about potions than even I do," Hermione explained. "He's also stopped telling us things. Sometimes he vanishes for hours and when he returns, he never tells us where he went…"

"Yeah," Ron said. "And he also started reading! And he's talking to the Slytherins! The Slytherins, Professor! That's not Harry! Harry would never talk to Slytherins like that!"

Hermione snorted.

"Maybe he's just grown up, Ron!" she told him coolly. "Maybe he finally realized that Slytherins are also just humans!"

"Hermione! We're talking about Slytherins here! And not just any Slytherins; we're talking about Malfoy and his goons! That's not growing up - that's definitely something different!" Ron answered her worried.

Hermione opened her mouth to retort but then closed it again.

"Maybe you're right," she begrudgingly admitted. "Maybe it's really odd…"

Albus Dumbledore said nothing, and waited for both of Harry's friends to speak their minds. He himself had held some concern about his pawn since this summer. Somehow the boy seemed to be different than at the beginning of the summer. Of course there was the death of Cedric Diggory that Harry had witnessed, and also the fact that Harry was growing up, but still… Albus Dumbledore had thought he would be encountering an angry teen - not an independent, boyish adult!

And then Mad Eye Moody had come to him…

Yes, thanks to his old friend, Albus Dumbledore was sure that Harry was slowly being taken over by Voldemort - that even his friends had noticed something odd was going on only supported his guess about the possession of Harry Potter.

Of course, Albus Dumbledore had planned to talk to Harry's friends to confirm his theory. That they had come to him without being summoned told Albus how grave the situation had become.

"Well… I think the most troubling thing is that Harry suddenly does not tell us everything anymore," Hermione said in that moment.

"Yes," Ron said. "Last night he left the dorm and where he went I don't know… He returned late in the morning. Normally he would have told us what he was doing tonight - but he didn't. He didn't even tell us that he left the dorm last night! He just acted as if nothing happened!"

"And he is suddenly extremely formal with everyone!" Hermione said frowning. "He called Malfoy 'Heir Malfoy' when they met on the train! He's talking about 'Professor' Snape instead of just 'Snape' and… and… and…"

"Yes!" Ron said. "It's as if he suddenly swallowed a book on pure-blood upbringing or something like that." He pulled a face while saying that. "I don't even understand how he can stand to be so formal and civil with a Slytherin - especially Malfoy!"

Now Albus frowned.

He knew about the rivalry between Harry and the Malfoy heir. He had not encouraged the rivalry but he also had done nothing to stop it. He was content with the differences between the boys as it had stopped Harry from making friends with the children of Death Eaters and Voldemort's supporters. That they now were starting to be civil to each other was worrisome - especially when Albus also counted the different behavior the boy was displaying the rest of the time.

"And he never uses his text books anymore to do his homework!" said Hermione. "Well… he uses his text book as long as we are near but I have also seen him just writing down a whole essay on the goblin wars without even looking up the facts! Harry hates history! He never even tried to remember anything about it - and suddenly he writes an essay without even looking up the facts?"

"And he suddenly learns potions like a fish to water! He didn't even look once at the instructions!" Ron said.

"Yes!" Hermione said. "He even helped Neville! I could hear him teaching Neville about potions and potion ingredients. Some things he said even I didn't know - I looked them up and everything he said was correct, even if it some of it was really obscure or largely unknown knowledge!"

Now Albus was definitely worried.

Of course, he had been thinking along the lines of possession since Alastor Moody had told him his findings - but knowledge like that? Albus Dumbledore wasn't sure if Voldemort would truly aid Harry in his classes, even if he had possessed the boy!

Of course, there were also other explanations to how Harry had come to know the knowledge he had, but even if Harry had found some time to read some of the books in Sirius' library in Grimmauld Place - that knowledge was nothing you could gain in such short amount of time like some weeks or even a summer… so how?!

There was just one reason that could maybe explain the sudden knowledge Harry displayed: Voldemort was planning something.

He was planning something and he needed Harry to know about these things to achieve his goal, because even if Harry was nothing more than a puppet to Voldemort at the moment - to give him knowledge like that could be fatal for Voldemort if Harry was freed. So there definitely had to be a reason why Harry suddenly gained that particular knowledge!

Albus shuddered.

Potions was one of the oldest branches of magic. It also was one of the most dangerous branches. That Voldemort had given Harry knowledge in this old and dangerous art definitely did not bode well for the future…

Albus had to stop him. Whatever he planned - this time it definitely had to be stopped as fast as they could! Especially now, when Harry might still be saved…

"I thank you for sharing this with me. I will look into it," he finally promised the children and dismissed them afterwards.

The children hesitated just a moment, but finally left and Albus Dumbledore turned to his fireplace, threw in some floo powder and flooed Severus Snape.

"Severus - I fear I need your help…"

Meanwhile, Harry entered Madam Umbridge's office for his detention. He was in a good mood. Earlier that day he had gotten an idea where the missing ward-book he was searching could be. It had been by chance that he had overheard the Ancient Runes Professor babbling about a book written in runic language that she couldn't translate. She even had gone as far as questioned the language used in the book. "As if it isn't written in Brezhoneg," she had told the uninterested Minerva McGonagall. Harry, on the other hand, had been very much interested in her conversation. If he was right, she had the book he was looking for.

Now Harry just needed a way to get it - and getting it was definitely easier than searching for it!

Because of that, Harry had been in a good mood - until Umbridge gave him a blood quill to use for his detention…

And suddenly Harry was fuming.

Normally a blood quill was used for very important contracts between wizards and other magical beings. This blood quill, instead, was being used by the professor for torture. An object like that used for something like torture would turn evil if used too often in that method. The once neutral blood quill had been turned into an Evil Arts object - an object that would show up in his results when the improper ward he planned was activated. Using it on a student - Harry fumed with rage thinking about other children who could have had detention with the new professor before him.

If Harry had not already planned to take on the Ministry, this would have been the final straw for him to do it.

"Well - start writing," Umbridge ordered impatiently, and Harry looked at her with storm-clouded eyes.

"Yes, ma'am," he hissed, his face displaying no emotions.

Then he took the quill and set its wicked tip on the parchment.

And suddenly he smirked evilly when a thought penetrated his rage.

"Time for a little more Twisting," he thought to himself. Yes - this was definitely something the newspapers would be interested in. He just had to survive the detention tonight…

And he somehow had to protocol her deeds.

Harry twisted the quill in his hand. "Something simple should do," he decided and started to write. Normally he would have planned the improper ritual he decided to do in advance. It was dangerous to create a ritual straight out of one's head. There were normally too many variables to do something like that without the proper calculations - but Harry had an advantage this time. He had created rituals like this since his childhood. For a small thing like that he had no trouble to calculate the placing of the runes without writing down the calculations. He had done rituals like that too often to even have to think about it too much.

Runes carved itself in the back of his left hand. He turned the parchment, writing in a circle. Furtak and Parsel runes mixed with Chinese characters and a few Egyptian hieroglyphs. Normally the circle he was drawing would have been used to heal. This time it was used to protect the blood quill user and to aim its wrath against the teacher who dared to hurt the users. Meanwhile he made sure that Umbridge still had not seen what he was doing.

She was reading.

Good.

Harry finished the runic circle on his parchment - also carved in the back of his hand. He looked it over, to make sure that he had not forgotten something. Then he nodded and looked up again to see if Umbridge was still reading.

She was.

He activated the circle.

Pain shot through his entire body - starting from the runic circle on his hand. Then his natural heritage started to play in the activated magic and disabled the darkness that clung to the blood quill. A sudden white glow surrounded the quill and Harry shielded it with his forearm so that the glow would not be seen by the professor.

When the glow finally vanished again, the parchment was empty again and the runic circle on the back of Harry's hand had disappeared.

"Good," he muttered under his breath. Then he started to write again - this time the words he should have been writing from the start.

I must not tell lies. I must not tell lies. I must not tell lies…

Every single sentence carved the words deeper in the back of his hand. But instead of flowing blood, a soft golden light was emitted by the carvings of his hands. He smiled softly. The carving still hurt his hand but he hadn't written the runic circle to stop the hurt. He had written it to stop the evil that was emitted from the quill and to document the victims. He had written it to aid in healing and to stop it from scaring. The hurt was nothing he would or could prevent. He had not dared to add a protection against it because he knew that the other children in school would be far too reckless with detention with the professor if the quill did not hurt - and he didn't want more victims than there already were.

"And I doubt that the Ministry will stop her or even remove her because of a blood quill…" Harry thought bitterly. No. He had to wait until he himself would have the power to remove her. Until then, the children had to persevere…

"Because Dumbledore will do nothing," Harry thought angrily. "He would not dare to do anything - even if it would be in his rights to do so. He is more interested with his standing in the Ministry than doing his job."

Of course, Albus Dumbledore had lost his place as the Supreme Mugwump in the International Confederation of Wizards and some of his other very impressive titles - but he still was a political power to reckon with. He would not dare to lose his position at Hogwarts as well just to stop some rowdy children getting hurt.

Harry had seen him do nothing before - he knew that Albus Dumbledore was not yet inclined to show his hand.

"And I also can't tip my hand until I'm ready," Harry thought to himself. But even if he couldn't - he had other ways to ensure the safety of his comrades.

And so he scribbled on and on until he finally was allowed to stop. He stood up, packed his things and left after showing her his hand for inspection. She was looking at it satisfied - unable to see the golden glow Harry could see in the carvings.

He smiled inwardly and left.

Outside a little black cat was waiting for him.

"Hello, Reg," he greeted the cat smiling. "Shouldn't you be in the dungeons or the Chamber? This part of the castle is in the firm hands of the Headmaster after all."

Reg meowed.

"I'm still not sure if the castle has wards to tell the Headmaster if there is an animagus in this part of the castle, you know? I still have to see the ward book to be sure what wards we are dealing with, after all."

Reg meowed again, his eyes following the blood dropping from Harry's hand on the ground.

"Don't worry," Harry said. "It's nothing grave. I just had to use a ritual to stop the blood quill from taking the blood of the writer. Wanna bet how long it takes her to collapse from blood loss?"

Reg meowed again, this time however it sounded more like a snort.

Harry grinned.

"I thought it would be the right thing to do," he said. "After all, she's the one who wants to use the Evil Arts. I cannot stop her using it until I have control - but I sure can stop her from using others as her victims."

The silky black cat snorted again.

"Well - let's go to bed" Harry said. "We can deal with the rest tomorrow."

Or so he thought.

Instead he was asked to go to the Headmaster the next day. Harry just followed Minerva McGonagall to the Headmaster office without protest. There - behind his desk like always - was sitting the Almighty Albus Dumbledore, waiting for him.

"Harry, my boy," Almighty Albus greeted. "Sit down, child. Lemon drop?"

"No, thank you, sir," Harry answered while he sat down in front of the desk.

"Well, how are you, my boy?" the headmaster asked and Harry could feel the tentacles of Legilimency penetrating his mind and searching through the memories of his last days.

Harry let him be. He knew that the Headmaster would not find anything important in his head.

Then an idea formed in his head, and instead of letting the Headmaster roam his memories as the Headmaster saw fit, Harry softly guided him to the detention he had had yesterday.

"I am well, Headmaster," he answered instead.

"That's good, my boy," the headmaster said while looking at the memory of Harry's detention with Umbridge. Almighty Albus' search glided over the ritual Harry had performed at the detention as if he was unable to see it - and he somehow really was unable to see it - and sat on the writing with a Blood Quill.

Harry just smiled inwardly. He loved his Occlumency shields. But when the Professor turned from the memory with the Blood Quill to the next one, Harry frowned.

So the professor really did not intend to do anything about his Defence instructor using an object like that - an object that definitely would fall under the Evil Arts by its use to torture?

"Why am I here, sir?" Harry finally asked when the Almighty Albus did not continue speaking.

"You're here because I think you should be taught Occlumency," the professor answered kindly.

"Occlumency, sir?" Harry said, playing the innocent fifteen-year-old who he definitely wasn't.

"The Art of protecting your mind from Legilimency. Legilimency is the Art to… well… 'read' a mind, Harry. Voldemort is a very adept Legilimens and you might end up in trouble should you not learn to protect your mind from him," the Almighty Albus answered.

"Why?"

"You don't want to give him an advantage in battle - do you, Harry?"

Harry shook his head the negative.

"Then it's settled. Professor Snape will start teaching you on Monday."

"Snape?! Why Snape?! Can't you do it, sir?" Of course Harry had no real interest in being taught Occlumency by the Almighty Albus Dumbledore - but he also knew that the original Harry would have wanted it.

"Professor Snape is a very adept teacher, Harry," Dumbledore answered. "I am sure you will get along with him if you just try."

"He hates me, Professor," Harry answered sincerely. He was sure that Snape hated him even more, now that he had shown his ability in potions. Still - Harry somehow liked to rile up the potion master for fun. He was sure that he would have plenty of fun doing so in his 'Occlumency lessons'.

As if he needed any at all…

"I am sure you're exaggerating," the Headmaster said. "And now run along. I am sure your friends are missing you terribly."

Harry just snorted, but stood up to leave. He was sure that the Almighty Albus was right in one thing at least: his friends would be missing him. He had not hung out with them as often as the original Harry normally did. The problem wasn't that he didn't like either of them. The problem was that he could and would not trust them.

Ron was of the jealous kind. He had shown the original Harry more than once that he could not be trusted.

Hermione, instead, was of the adult-admiring kind. She also had gone behind the original Harry's back. Of course she had done it because she was friends with Harry - but Harry could not trust her to refrain from doing it again if she thought it was necessary.

"If she has not done so already," Harry thought. "There has to be a reason why I suddenly have to learn Occlumency…"

For a moment he contemplated if he should protest another time, but then he left without another word. It wasn't worth it. He had nothing to fear from these lessons and maybe he would even learn something new. Who knew?

Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody entered the Headmaster office through a side-door after the boy had left.

"He's not possessed, Albus," he said softly. "The Occlumency lessons won't help the lad in any way." The Headmaster just sighed.

"I know your theories, Alastor," he said. "But you have to -"

"The boy is not possessed, Albus!" Moody hissed, not caring that he interrupted the other man. "I don't know where the true Harry Potter is, but the boy you met today isn't Harry Potter! He's an imposter!"

"Alastor, my friend, there is no way that the boy could have been kidnapped in the summer! He was protected the whole time!"

"The whole time except when the Dementors came to Privet Drive! He could have switched himself with the child that day!"

"Harry showed his memories in the court room! He couldn't have faked them!"

"Maybe he took the memories from the true boy and inserted them in his mind until he could show them in the court!"

"I was in his head just a few minutes ago!"

"If he's a true Occlumens he could have faked everything you saw!"

"He doesn't have a flask for Polyjuice Potion and he doesn't drink regularly enough to -"

"There are other ways, not just Poyjuice!"

"Not for most wizards!"

"Then the imposer is not like most wizards, Albus!"

"You are paranoid, my b - friend!" Albus said heatedly. Normally he would never say something like that but he had enough. Moody had bugged him with his conspiracy theories for the whole last week. He'd had enough.

Moody stared at him with cold eyes.

"Fine," he finally huffed. "Fine. Be that way! But don't come apologizing to me after you realize that I'm right!"

"Sometimes the answer to a problem is simple, my friend."

"And sometimes it's complex! I'm telling you, Albus: something is wrong with that boy! And I will find out exactly what! You, my friend, might not believe me but I know that I'm right, and I will find out what happened to the real boy, even if it's the last thing I ever do!"

And with that Moody turned and left.