Chapter Sixteen – Meeting Dumbles

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never dream of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

Chapter Sixteen – Meeting Dumbles

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-==(oIo)==-

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After dinner, Harry and Daphne led the other five up the grand staircase to the third floor and down towards the classroom they'd selected.

"Aren't you afraid of the 'painful death' the headmaster told us about last Monday night?" asked Hermione.

"Huh?" asked Harry, stopping suddenly and turning around. This brought the whole group to a halt.

Giving his head a bit of a shake he asked the Gryffindor girl, "I'm sorry? What were you talking about?"

"Last Monday night, just as dinner was about to be served, the Headmaster made an announcement," she explained. "He said stay away from the third floor corridor on the left unless you want to suffer a horrible and painful death."

"Why the bloody hell would he say something like that?" asked Harry.

"Language! And, I have no idea," replied Hermione. "But it's what he said."

"Alright," he said firmly. "We'll go and check it out after we check out the new club house."

"Harry, it's forbidden!" said Hermione shocked.

"Not according to what you said, Hermione," replied Harry firmly. "Look at it this way; according to what you just said, it's quite alright for me to go to the third floor corridor on the left if I actually do want to die a horrible and painful death. Who's to say I don't?"

"I..." she stuttered. "But..."

"Precisely," said Harry. "Dumbledore has been speaking in public for many decades. He's been on the Wizengamot since he was awarded his Order of Merlin First Class. He knows how to string a coherent sentence together. He knows how to say something so it's not misinterpreted. He would not have made it to the position of Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, if he did not have that particular talent. He would not have made it to the position of Supreme Mugwump, either."

Hermione, as well as a few others in their little group, thought hard about that.

"Hermione," tried Harry again. "If he didn't want students to go into that corridor, then he would only have had to place wards up that blocked access. Him saying don't go there, without ensuring children can't get in there, is akin to waving a red flag to a bull.

"No, he wants kids to go and have a look. I daresay there's already been a few individuals who have done precisely that. For what ever reason he's got, he's got something there he wants someone to find."

"While that's food for thought," said Daphne, changing the subject. "We've still got a clubroom to investigate. Shall we?"

They all gave a nod as Harry turned back to the direction they were heading and led the way.

Not far along the hallway Harry stopped outside a plain, unornamented door.

"And - here we are," he said, opening the door.

Neither he nor Daphne had yet seen the room after the elves applied their magic to it. However, as the two hosts, he and Daphne waited for the other five to enter the room first, before following them in.

The only clue the two had to how good the room looked was by the sounds of appreciation their friends were making.

Once inside, he and Daphne had to step around their friends to get a good look at the room. Both were quite shocked by what they found.

As expected, the elves had cleaned the room out completely, repaired the fixtures, and refurnished. However, the efforts of the elves went beyond that. The room was given a 'make over' with a thorough cleaning. The blackboard, not just repaired, was also given a fresh coat of paint. And there was fresh chalk sitting on the chalk shelf directly below the board.

The gas light fittings had all been repaired, cleaned and polished. Missing lamp covers were replaced. The lights within gave the room a bright appearance.

The once bare window now had drapes of a rich blue with gold trim.

Desks that looked quite unlike student desks were arranged in a horseshoe shape around the room. Many were of different varieties. Chairs that more resembled armchairs than student chairs were placed at each desk. Again, most were subtly different from the others.

However, each chair was trimmed identically in rich blue with a subtle pattern which reminded Harry of paisley. There were about thirty six sets of desk and chair arranged this way.

In the middle of the floor was a large gold throw rug that almost reached the desks on either side.

On each side of the window, but far enough from the window not to appear to be boxing it in, were two tall bookcases. Each book case appeared to be two-thirds filled with books.

Hermione had already approached the bookcase and was browsing through one of the books. "Harry, these are all mainly on wizarding traditions and etiquette," she said. "This is amazing!"

Harry was gobsmacked. It was far better than even he could have imagined. Glancing over at Daphne he could see from her expression she felt the same way.

"Wow!" said Tracey. "This is - wow!"

Everyone else could only silently agree for a few moments before Daphne said, "I guess our etiquette club is really going to happen."

Snapping out of his own surprise, Harry said, "Well, it looks like we're set for about thirty six people. I hope that's not too much."

Looking up from where she was returning a book to a bookshelf, Hermione said, "I think you'll find it'd be more accurate to wonder if it's enough. You might not get thirty six people attending at the first meeting but, once people hear about this place, places will fill fast."

"If we do," said Daphne, "I'm sure we can get the elves to add more desks and chairs. This is one of the biggest classrooms I've seen in the castle, and there's still room to add a second ring of desks and chairs outside of the first."

Over at the far side of the room near the wall with the blackboard, Hermione called, "Hey, come and have a look at this."

The group, curious, walked over and saw Hermione standing in front of another door. It bore a small wooden sign that said 'Office'.

"I don't remember that being there," said Harry.

"No, I remember there being a stack of old school furniture in this corner, though," replied Daphne.

"Well," said Harry, "we'd best have a look, then."

He stepped forward and opened the door. Stepping in, he saw two office desks facing each other in the middle of the room. At each was an office chair. Standing against the opposite wall was a large ornate filing cabinet.

Harry walked over and opened the filing cabinet to find it empty.

"Hello," said a voice. "It's glad I am to see someone has decided to make use of this old classroom again; even if you are children."

Turning towards the sound of the voice, Harry saw a portrait of a stern man hanging on the wall smiling at him.

"Hello," he said. "Ummm - we asked Professor Flitwick, my Head of House, if we could set up a club to teach mainly muggleborns about wizarding etiquette and traditions. The classroom out there is what we got. We didn't even know this office was here until the classroom was cleaned up."

"So I've been informed, young man," replied the portrait. "As you seem not to know, this office is provided to be the office for your club."

Hearing a noise, Harry turned around and found the others had also come into the room and were having a look around.

"Wow!" said Neville. "I bet you didn't expect this!"

"No, no we didn't," replied Harry. Turning back to the portrait, he said, "And, pardon, but what do we call you?"

Smiling, the man said, "I believe you meant to enquire, 'And to whom do I owe the pleasure?'"

Blinking and blushing a little, Harry replied with a small bow, "My apologies. You are, of course, entirely correct. To whom do I owe the pleasure, Sir?"

"I am Carwyn Thomaset," replied the portrait, proudly. "I was a Professor, here at Hogwarts, in the 1800s."

"What did you teach, Professor?" asked Harry.

With a wide smile the portrait of the ex-Professor replied, "I taught Social Studies of the Wizarding World. In other words, I taught a lot of what you're trying to accomplish here. That's why I volunteered to hang in here for a while."

"Volunteered?" asked Tracey. "You can do that?"

"Well it isn't a dictatorship, young lady," replied the portrait. "However, when it was learned someone wanted to make a go at setting up a club to teach muggleborns wizarding life and etiquette, even though it has been attempted before and has failed, I thought I'd volunteer to hang in this office and provide service.

"That way, I can also guide you in your planning of classes and may be able to assist in answering any questions you find too difficult. That is, of course, if you choose to hear my counsel."

"Your kind offer, Professor, was not anticipated," replied Harry. "Professor Flitwick required us to provide a curriculum overview for what we want to do. However, we have not gone into detail for each session at this stage."

Speaking up, Daphne said, "Plus, we only anticipate holding one meeting a fortnight during school terms. Meaning we should only be meeting a total of about eighteen to twenty times over the course of each year. Are you sure you won't be bored, Professor?"

Smiling, the portrait replied, "It's good of you to ask, my Lady. However, this portrait is only my 'home' frame. I, as are many other portraits throughout the castle, am quite capable of visiting other areas through other portraits. I'll be fine."

With a glance at Harry, Daphne said, "In that case, Professor, welcome."

After saying their goodbyes to the portrait of Professor Thomaset, the group returned to the new club room.

"You do know," said Neville, "once those clever enough come to the first couple of meetings and return to their common rooms start to tell others about what you two will be teaching in here, you'll very soon get a whole lot more people wanting to come along."

"Yeah," replied Harry. "And, if Hermione's right, I'm just hoping we can fit them all in."

As the last one out the door, Harry pulled the door closed behind him.

'I'll have to see about how I can get a magical lock for that,' he mused. 'And for the office door. We can't just have people going in there whenever they want.'

Shortly thereafter, the seven broke to return to their own common rooms.

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-==(oIo)==-

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The next morning's breakfast saw many owls for both Harry and Daphne, but none that were booby-trapped. There was even an official letter from the DMLE informing them both that the culprits of the previous morning's mail bombing had been identified and already spoken to concerning their actions. The letter asked Harry how he wanted them to proceed against the perpetrators.

Harry responded to the letter stating he wanted the senders of the howlers warned and that, if they tried anything again, charges would be pressed. He also wrote he wanted the ones who sent the booby-trapped mail, especially the one containing the bubotuber pus, to be formally charged.

While not much may come of the charges, the perpetrators would know not to mess with Harry Potter or his betrothed in future. It sent a message right back.

As he and the others were finalising their breakfasts, Harry felt himself dreading a little his first potions class. It was his first class for the day and was a double. Breakfast sat heavily in his stomach.

Walking down to the dungeons Harry caught up with Susan and Hannah and asked, "Ladies, are there any students in our soon to be oh-so-enjoyable session of brewing potions who has yet to find a partner?"

Glancing back at him, Hannah replied, "Sorry, Harry; I wouldn't know."

"Me neither," replied Susan.

"I spent both classes last week keeping my head down and doing the work," said Hannah. "The man scares me."

"Me too," said Susan.

Harry smiled.

"Ladies, thank you for the information," he said. "I can see I'm in for a fun-filled morning with the greasy bat of the dungeon."

Harry and the girls arrived about five minutes before Snape opened the door and barked, "Inside. Take your seats. Cauldrons and scales out."

Harry waited back until everyone else filed in. He waited until he saw a vacant seat next to - no one. 'Oh, yes,' thought Harry. 'There's only nine in the First Year cohort for the 'Puffs. So one of the 'Puffs sat with the spare 'Claw.'

Looking around, Harry spied a vacant station and made his way to it. 'At least on my own I can just make the stupid potion and not be held back while someone reads and translates the recipe,' he thought as he brought forth his potions equipment out of book bag, together with the books Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger and the one Daphne recommended he use as the reference guide.

Okay, he didn't actually need either book on the bench at his workstation, having already memorised both, but having them on the bench implied he needed them.

While Harry was setting his bookbag on the floor next to his stool, Snape ascended his little dais, spun on the spot, glared at Harry and said, "Ah, Mister Potter, our newest celebrity. Tell me, Mister Potter, what would I get if I added root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"A soggy mess," replied Harry with a shrug. "However, they're two of the main ingredients in the Draught of the Living Death, Sir; a Third Year potion."

"Where would you look if you wanted to find a bezoar?" asked the surprised Potions Master, not expecting a correct answer.

"In the stomach of a goat, Sir," replied Harry. "If ingested quickly enough after being poisoned a bezoar is a fast and effective way of curing most such poisonings."

"And what, pray tell, is the difference between monkshood and Wolfsbane?"

"The colour and shape of the flower, Sir," replied Harry. "They're two variations of the same family of plant."

"Very good, Mister Potter," said Snape with no sign of a sneer. "It appears you have been studying ahead. I wonder if you can keep it up."

Snape then turned to the class and said, "For today you will be making Burn Salve Paste. Madam Pomfrey has informed me her supplies are running low. For those few who make a halfway decent batch, you may find your fellow students using what you've made sometime during the year. Jars will be offered, by me, at each station that manages to get something as simple as this right.

"The instructions are on page 82 of Jiggers and on the board." With an almost negligent wave of his wand, the instructions for the Salve appeared on the board. "Get to work. You have ninety minutes."

Harry waited a few moments as he saw other students go to a cabinet off to the side and collect supplies, and followed them. He was soon back at his station with the necessary ingredients.

He first used a clean cloth to wipe over the inside of his cauldron, his stirring rod, his scales, the cutting board and the ingredient knife. He could tell that Snape was watching him but made sure to take his time in ensuring everything was clean.

Once he was ready, he began.

The potion was a relatively simple one but was, actually, an advanced First Year brew. There were a couple of steps that could have proven dangerous if every step was not carried out precisely.

However, Harry was not the sort to rush. Rushing just increased the risk. And he had plenty of time.

At around the seventy-five minute mark Harry looked up and could see Snape staring back at him. When their eyes met the Professor gave a small nod of his head towards the end of Harry's workstation. There, Harry could see an empty jar sitting on a piece of parchment.

Reaching across, Harry snagged the jar and brought it to himself. He, again, drew out his cleaning cloth and wiped the jar and lid inside and out while he read the parchment. It was details of a nine inch assignment on the uses of Hellebore in potions.

As Hellebore was one of the ingredients in Harry's other book, he figured he could get the assignment knocked over in about an hour.

He carefully scooped the slightly yellowish goop out of his cauldron into the jar. Once the jar was full, he screwed the lid into place, and placed the jar on his workstation.

At that point, Snape came over, picked up his jar, peered at the contents through the clear glass and nodded his head. Drawing his wand out, the Professor caused to appear the words Burn Salve on the side of the jar and on the lid.

Turning to Harry he quietly said, "Clean up your workstation and you may leave quietly," before he carried the jar with him back to his desk.

It only took Harry a few minutes to clean everything back up; carrying his cauldron, stirring rod, cutting board and ingredient knife to the sink; and returning the unused ingredients to the cabinet.

Once done, he quietly left. He wondered where the looming, sneering and taking of points for 'blinking too loudly' were that other students had told him about. For all he looked, Harry couldn't see it.

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Knowing he now had a break until lunch, Harry made his way to the Ravenclaw common room and on into his dorm. There, he carefully cleaned his scales before packing them back away in his trunk. And used the opportunity to grab his transfiguration text for the first class after lunch.

Grabbing his transfiguration text 'A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration', Harry walked down to the Great Hall and sat at the Ravenclaw table. He was pretending to read through it while munching on an apple when he was joined by Susan and Hannah.

"Harry," began Hannah, "How on Earth did you manage to get that burn salve made so fast when there was just you working?"

"By thinking about what I needed to do and doing it," replied Harry. "I simply went through each step of what needed to be done and organised myself so that neither I, nor the potion, was sitting idle at any time."

"Well, it sure looked like you impressed the Hell out of Professor Snape," said Susan. "He was watching you like a hawk; and taking notes."

"It was also the most calm potion's class of the three we've had," said Hannah. "It took me almost half an hour before I realised I was actually enjoying myself."

Nodding, Susan said, "He didn't sneer at anyone, he didn't yell, he didn't take points for silly reasons, he didn't hover over anyone; he just moved around the class watching everyone and didn't say a word while we were working."

"Yeah, but most of the time he was walking around he was only watching Harry," said Hannah. "It was like he was - stalking his prey."

Harry just snorted with laughter. "Then it appears I disappointed him by not doing anything wrong."

"No" said Susan, contradicting him. "It was more like - he was waiting for you to make a mistake. However, when he figured out you weren't going to; he began to watch what you were doing right. That's when he returned to his desk, pulled out the parchment and began to write down some of the things you were doing."

"So he noticed I wasn't following the exact steps of the recipe," said Harry. "I did things in a slightly different order."

Recognising the look Hannah was giving him, he said, "I don't mean I mixed in the ingredients differently. I mean I prepared the ingredients in a different order. I made better use of my time. If Snape was writing down what I was doing, I think that's what he was writing down.

"If you think about it, it makes sense he'd do that," he said. "Not only does he teach, he's the school's potions master. That means he's responsible for providing potions for the infirmary. Something like I was doing that would save him time would be like gold to him."

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-==(oIo)==-

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After an afternoon class on transfiguration, again with the 'Puffs, Harry and the gang headed for the library to clear away their homework. They were joined by Daphne, Tracey and Neville not long after arriving.

"Did anyone notice the schedules are up for first flying lessons?" asked Neville, as soon as he sat down.

"Flying lessons?" asked Hermione. "On brooms, right?"

"Yes, Hermione," replied Daphne. "On brooms."

Nodding, Neville said, "We're second up with the Slytherins at 3.30pm on Thursday. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw are at 2.00pm immediately before us and after lunch."

"I take it these lessons are mandatory?" asked Harry, remembering Daphne and Astoria taught him the basics of riding a broom the day before they boarded the Hogwarts Express.

"Yeah, and I'm not looking forward to it," replied Neville a little dejectedly. "I don't like riding brooms. My Uncle Algie tried to teach me the basics and I was pants at it."

"Once you get the basics it's actually a whole lot of fun," said Tracey. "It took me a while to get the hang of it. But, once I did, I now think it's an enjoyable way to spend a few hours on a warm day."

"Anyway," said Hermione. "Homework."

With a bit of good-natured ribbing of the driven girl, the group were soon researching and writing assignments.

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-==(oIo)==-

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At dinner, the group decided to sit at the Slytherin table. Something they hadn't done for a while.

The group were just winding up their desserts when Professor Flitwick walked up and handed Harry a note. Opening it he found he'd been summoned to the Headmasters office. Professor Flitwick would escort him.

Frowning, Harry showed the note to the group.

"I wonder what he wants," said Daphne.

"Well, whatever it is, I want witnesses," replied Harry. "Care to join me?"

"Why not," she replied. "Someone you trust should be there with you."

Thinking a bit, Harry asked, "Does Wizarding Britain have laws against witness tampering?"

Frowning, she asked, "What's that?"

"It's when someone who is involved as a witness in a forthcoming, or running, trial is approached by one of the parties involved in the trial, normally the accused, and attempts to sway the testimony of the witness in their favour," he replied.

Looking a little shocked, she replied, "I'm - not sure. Daddy would know."

"Auntie definitely would," said Susan.

"Well, I can't really refuse to go because he's the Headmaster," said Harry. "He may just be wanting to talk to me in his role as Headmaster. But, anything along those lines should be discussed through my Head of House, Professor Flitwick. There should be no reason he would involve himself in that sort of thing unless, whatever it is, couldn't be resolved through my Head of House first."

"And there's nothing like that you're aware of?" asked Tracey.

"No," replied Harry, frowning. "Unless it has to do with the club. I think it would be wise for you to join me, Daphne."

"As do I," she softly replied.

Looking at the head table, Harry could see the headmaster already seemed to have left.

A few minutes later the dishes were cleared away and Harry and Daphne approached Professor Flitwick.

"Ready to go, Mister Potter?" the Professor asked.

"Yes, Sir," replied Harry.

"Very well," the Professor said, hopping down off his chair and walking towards the end of the table.

Harry and Daphne met him there. And, together, they made their way out of the Great Hall.

As they were walking, Harry asked the Professor, "What is this about, Professor?"

"I have no idea, Mister Potter," he replied. "I only know the Headmaster asked me to give you a note informing you he wanted to see you after the meal in his office."

"This is highly suspect, Sir," said Harry firmly. "I cannot conceive a valid reason for the Headmaster to summon me to his office."

"He is the Headmaster, Mister Potter," replied the Professor.

"That is irrelevant, Sir," said Harry. "He is as bound by the rules of the school as myself."

Changing the subject, Harry asked, "Are you aware he is currently facing trial due to his actions relating to me in the early 1980's?"

That caused the little Professor to stutter his step a little. "Yes, of course, Mister Potter."

"As I am a prime witness in that forthcoming trial, are you also aware that Albus Dumbledore summoning me to his office to - chat - could be seen by some parties as an attempt to influence my testimony?" asked Harry.

"Errr..." stammered the Professor. "No, Mister Potter; I did not consider that possibility."

"Then I strongly suggest you do, Professor," said Harry firmly. "Because, you may very well be taking the witness stand yourself over what is happening right here, right now. And over what happens within that office."

"You - think it might come to that?" the Professor half-squeaked.

"The school rules state that when a student is summoned to appear before the Headmaster or Headmistress, they are to be accompanied at all times by their Head of House," replied Harry. "That means, you're going to be in that office with us for the entire time of the - interview.

"I suggest you be very conscious of what your role in this entails. So that, if you are summoned to appear at the forthcoming trial, you will not be seen as guilty of any malfeasance relating to your position within this school. I do not want to see you negatively impacted by this matter, Professor."

After hesitating in replying for a few moments, the Professor said, "So noted, Mister Potter. And, thank you."

Harry, with Daphne still on his arm, noted they were walking down a hallway towards a large stone gargoyle. As they were about to stop, the Professor said to it, "Lemon Drops," and the gargoyle, almost nimbly, stepped aside.

Stepping onto the spiral staircase behind the gargoyle, Harry noticed the stairs start to ascend like a spiral escalator. After a few long seconds the stairs opened onto a landing outside an ornate wooden door.

"Please, come in, Harry," Harry heard called in Dumbledore's voice from the other side of the door.

Harry opened the door and allowed Daphne and the Professor to precede him through into the office beyond. Harry could see the Headmaster sitting behind his desk at the far end of the room.

"Ah, Harry, my boy," called the Headmaster jovially. "So good of you to come."

Before Harry could respond the old man looked to Professor Flitwick and said, "Thank you for escorting Mister Potter, Filius. You and Miss Greengrass may go."

"Thank you, Headmaster," replied the Professor. "But, I'm afraid that won't be possible. Mister Potter reminded me of the school rules where it states that in the event a student is summoned before the Headmaster he or she is to be accompanied by their Head of House for the duration of the meeting. I shall be following my duty and remaining."

"I - see," said Dumbledore, clearly not happy with the response from the Professor. "And, Miss Greengrass? To what do we owe the pleasure of your attendance?"

"Harry is my betrothed; as you well know, Headmaster," she replied with a somewhat aloof air. "I have chosen to accompany him, curious as to why he was summoned with no reason given for said summons."

Hesitating only for a moment Dumbledore gave a dramatic sigh of disappointment and said, "I merely wished to enquire of Mister Potter how he was faring after his ordeal of a little over a week ago."

In a stilted formal voice, Harry replied, "I am well. Thank you for your enquiry, Headmaster. Will that be all?"

With another dramatic sigh Dumbledore said, "Harry, there were quite a few children injured on that night. One of my Professors even died. I need to discuss with you what happened. Now, please take a seat."

He indicated the solitary chair before the desk.

"Headmaster," replied Harry, not moving from where he stood. "As you are no doubt aware, it would be rude for a gentleman to take seat while a Lady stands."

"Of course," replied Dumbledore. With a gesture of his wand a second seat appeared alongside the first.

Harry took a long look at the chairs before turning to Professor Flitwick. "It appears, Professor, the Headmaster expects you to take care of your own arrangements to sit."

Harry then guided Daphne to a chair before taking the other.

"Now, Harry, I need you to step me through what happened that..." began the Headmaster before Daphne interrupted him.

"Excuse me, Headmaster," she firmly said. "But, I was not aware my betrothed has given you leave to use his first name in so offhanded a manner. You are aware, no doubt, that to do so without leave is high insult?"

"Errr - yes, Miss Greengrass," stuttered the Headmaster. "I meant no disrespect. I was, of course, Harry's - Mister Potter's magical guardian for almost ten years..."

"And in all that time spent no more than about an hour of time with him," she interrupted again. "And, even then, that was when he was but a small infant. I hardly see how that gives you leave to disrespect him now."

Though the old man's expression didn't change, Harry noticed how his eyes suddenly appeared to go flat. The twinkle that was there had now gone.

"Again, my apologies, Miss Greengrass, Mister Potter," he said before rearranging himself more comfortably in his seat. "Now, about that night. Please step me through what happened in your own words."

"No, thank you, Headmaster," replied Harry in a cool tone. "I do not wish to relive that night. If there's anything you want to know it will be covered in the extensive report held by the DMLE for which you, I believe, have access."

"I really wanted to hear it in your own words, Ha.. Mister Potter," said the Headmaster, eyes twinkling away again.

"And, as I've already clearly told you, I have no wish to relive that night," replied Harry firmly.

"I'm afraid I must insist, Mister Potter," said the Headmaster just as firmly.

"Headmaster," spat Harry, starting to lose his temper. "I don't give a flying rats arse what you insist upon. You don't seem to understand you have no authority to make such an insistence and expect it to be obeyed. Your incredible level of hubris has apparently blinded your cognizance to reality!"

Dumbledore stared back with a look of stunned shock.

"For someone who carries themself as the so-called 'Leader of the Light', your actions as they relate to me over the past decade identify you as little more than a nascent Dark Lord!" ranted Harry. "How anyone could possibly think that kidnapping a defenceless, recently-orphaned infant from their rightful guardian before then dumping said infant on a doorstep, far from his rightful home, in the middle of a cold autumnal night, was not an evil and despicable act frankly defies rational thought!

"No, Headmaster; it is I who should be doing the insisting here. And I insist you tell me just what the bloody hell you thought you were doing?"

Throughout Harry's rant Dumbledore sat there unmoving. His eyes were wide and his skin tone pale. After a long few seconds Dumbledore's whole body seemed to collapse in upon itself. His chin dropped towards his chest.

Looking back up and taking a deep breath Dumbledore said, "What I did was for the Greater Good. Placing you with the sister of your mother and her family meant you could be hidden safe behind blood wards. The sacrifice your mother made that saved your life on that night could be transferred to the home of your aunt and her family. You were safe there."

"Bullshit!" yelled Harry. "Has it utterly slipped your mind I was beaten and abused there? You've seen the evidence. You know the truth. I was not safe there!"

"The blood wards protect you from Voldemort's followers," tried Dumbledore. "They protected you from those in the wizarding world who meant to do you harm. I did what I did for your protection."

"And did nothing to protect me from those outside the wizarding world; from my own so-called family!" snarled Harry. "You claimed magical guardianship over me, Dumbledore. It was your claimed responsibility to ensure I wasn't being mistreated while housed with the Dursleys. You never checked up on me - You failed in your duty - Something for which I pray you will answer come Monday."

"Har... Mister Potter, I'm afraid you're too young to understand there..."

"Too young, you say?" cut in Harry. "Then how about the counsel of ones even wiser than you. One of this planet's greatest philosophers, a man who is still well known and read these two thousand years later for his wisdom, Plato of Ancient Greece, said, 'This, and no other, is the root from which a tyrant springs; when he first appears he is a protector.'

"And a great man of the early part of this century, Clive Staples Lewis, an author and an academic like yourself from one of the greatest establishments of learning in the world, said, 'Of all the tyrannies, a tyranny exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It may be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron's cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end, for they do so with the approval of their own conscience.'

"The type of person both great men were speaking about, Dumbledore, was you! Your so-called 'Greater Good' is no more than you lying to your own conscience, attempting to justify yourself an excuse for your self-aggrandisement.

"I'm fully aware, Dumbledore, there are a great many people out there who believe you can do no wrong. However, as Mahatma Ghandi, a famous Indian philosopher, once said, 'An error does not become truth by reason of multiplied propagation, nor does truth become error because nobody sees it.'

After glaring back at the ashen-faced silent Headmaster for a few more moments, Harry said, "Too young to understand, you say? I understand far more than you give me credit." He turned to Daphne and said, "Come, my Lady; I believe it's time we take our leave."

He stood and assisted Daphne to stand alongside him. Moving aside from the chairs on which they sat, he turned to Professor Flitwick and said, "Thank you for your attendance, this evening, Professor. My Lady and I will be leaving.

"And just so you know, Albus! I'll be reporting to Madam Bones, acting in her role as prosecutor, that you sought to interview me in private, this night," he snarled. "And, as it is highly likely I'll be a witness for the prosecution against you come Monday, she may wish to press even more charges against you for what could easily be perceived as witness tampering!"

That, clearly, startled the Headmaster. It was obvious he hadn't thought of that.

Professor Flitwick gave a small shocked but curt nod before hopping down off a small stool he'd conjured and led them out of the office.

None looked back.

"You're going dark, Harry," called the Headmaster, almost as an after thought.

Stopping for a moment, Harry turned back and said, "I was physically and mentally abused in that house, Headmaster; for nigh on ten years. It was all I ever knew; all I ever expected. That can change a person. It changed me.

"I'm not going dark, Headmaster. I'm already dark. And it's all because of you and your interference in the wishes of my parents." He then turned back to the door and left with the other two.

After they'd left, Professor Snape stepped out of the private quarters off the office. He walked across to a tall cabinet and, after opening one of the doors at the top of the cabinet, drew out a bottle of firewhiskey.

He carried the bottle back to the desk. After conjuring two tumbler glasses on the edge of the desk he poured a healthy measure of the firewhiskey into each glass.

Still without uttering a word, he picked up one glass and placed it before the headmaster. The other he picked up for himself and moved to sit in the chair Daphne had recently vacated. He waited while sipping from the glass.

After a few more moments Dumbledore softly asked, "Did he speak the truth, Severus? Have I been lying to myself all these years?"

"That is for you to decide, Headmaster," came back the calm reply. "As I have told you in the past, the boy is an attention seeking brat!"

"He most certainly is not, Severus," snarled the Headmaster. "If you saw what I saw during the trial of his aunt and uncle, last Monday, you would hang your head with shame for that remark."

"Now, what did you find out?" grumbled the old man.

"His mind is fully occluded," replied Snape. "If I attempted to break through his shields he would have instantly known of the attempt."

"I see," replied the old man. "That is - troubling."

"And surprising in one so young," said Snape.

Out in the hallway leading away from the stone gargoyle, Daphne quietly asked, "Is it true, Harry? Have you gone dark?"

Harry gave her hand a pat where it rested in the crook of his elbow. "No. But, it's sure going to mess with his head while he tries to think it through."

Daphne gave a small chuckle in response.

_‗_

-==(oIo)==-

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