The rest of November was just as restless as its first days. Shortly after Harry's 'tutoring session' with Daphne, he was informed that Hagrid returned. As such, the Golden Trio made a sneaky visit to his Hut with the use of Harry's Invisibility Cloak.
Hagrid was a complete mess, which came as a shock to the trio since a beaten up Hagrid was an inconceivable notion. They figured out that Hagrid might have dealt with giants, and in typical Hagrid fashion, even he couldn't hide it.
Much to everyone's dismay, Umbridge and her disgusting pink attire made a visit to Hagrid first thing in the night. She also made a visit in Hagrid's first class where he taught people about Thestrals. Umbridge's bigotry against half-breeds came out full force during the lesson, and she used Malfoy and Parkinson - the oh so credible sources to conduct a fair analysis - to frame the half-giant; surprisingly, the only person that could rival Hermione's unbridled rage towards the attempt to frame Hagrid, was Daphne, for some reason.
The rest of the month was a dreadful routine. Class, free period, homework, class, free period, homework. For Harry, at least; Hermione and Ron were swamped with prefect duties on top of everything. While Hermione could manage, Ron couldn't; his dreadful homework management saw to that. As for Harry, his dedication to staying ahead in academics proved fruitful; he was finishing essays in a timely manner and they were all graded well. Even in Potions he was doing excellent work. Snape had slowly accepted Harry's skill on the subject and even tried to not be openly hostile against him; he even rewarded him with house points - once, 5 points.
All in all, Harry was getting very jumpy since he couldn't handle sitting around too much, without anything to distract from his boredom. He only had homework and classes. Thankfully, he also had the D.A. meetings and the weekly lessons with Daphne. Most 'classes' between them were dedicated to proper Pureblood conduct and mannerisms, something that Harry excelled at. Acting like an esteemed member of the upper echelons of Magical Britain seemed to come as second nature to him, much to Ron's shock and Daphne's pleasure.
"Blimey mate, if you didn't wear the Gryffindor robes I would have thought you are a member of the Wizengamot!"
Harry chuckled in a polite manner and responded. "I thank you for your kind words, Ronald. Perhaps we could discuss the Wizengamot at a later date over tea? It is my belief that you will find the Potter blend most exquisite."
Of course, Harry only talked like that during his 'lessons' and when he demonstrated it to his friends. Since he was bound to join the Wizengamot as the Head of House Potter in his later years, he would be required to attend a plethora of formal meetings; he figured that he should learn how to act the part, before he actually joined the Wizengamot. Hermione had become fascinated with the whole thing and scribbled notes on a notebook she carried around - Harry honestly believed that Hermione was going to make a whole book on Pureblood conduct - while Ron was often comparing old - and abandoned - Weasley traditions with her.
Ron really was a sight to behold. From being very hostile against Slytherins and all things Pureblood, he came around with the help of Tracey who found the Weasley family tree. Much to his shock, Ron found out that his late grandfather, Septimus, was a Slytherin, while his grandmother, Cedrella, was also Slytherin and a member of the Black family, however removed. After seeing several Slytherins, Hufflepuffs and some odd Ravenclaws, Ron had to wonder why his family was taught that Slytherins are slimy snakes and bad influences; Blaise guessed that the long feud between Lucius Malfoy and Arthur Weasley was the reason behind that particular prejudice. Tracey also searched for Harry's family tree, but the trail was lost after Charlus Potter and Dorea Potter née Black.
"So, me and Harry, are like, distant, distant cousins?" Ron asked in complete awe.
"Not exactly. You see, almost every Pureblood family in Magical Britain is connected in one way or another. However distant, there are relations between almost everyone. But as I said, they are extremely distant to the point of not even being considered," explained Daphne in a tone oddly reminiscent of Hermione's during lectures - it was a tone that Harry learned to enjoy. A lot.
Harry was very happy that things had turned out that well between his group and the Slytherins. It was probably the best case scenario, and today, now that most students had left Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays, the odd group of friends finally had a chance to sit at the same table for lunch.
"Hermione, what are you doing exactly?" Astoria asked curiously as she observed Hermione knitting hats and socks at breakneck speeds.
"I'm knitting clothes for the elves," the Gryffindor prefect responded without looking.
"Why?" Blaise asked in return.
"To free them, of course," came the immediate response that brought silence to their group.
"You should really stop that Hermione, it causes more harm than good," Daphne responded as she bit a piece of her steak from her fork. Daphne was sitting directly in front of Ron to make sure he would learn to eat like a human and not like a pig - a copious amount of Stinging Hexes helped greatly in her endeavors.
Hermione immediately stopped her knitting and glared at Daphne. "What the elves are doing is slavery. I know you Purebloods need the slav-"
"It isn't slavery," Astoria responded, followed by nods from Blaise and Daphne - Tracey had no idea what was going on. Daphne cleared her throat.
"What do you know about house elves, Hermione?" the blonde asked. Surprisingly, Hermione cocked her head in confusion. "House Elves need to be bonded to a wizarding family to live. The bond feeds them energy," she continued.
"But how does that make sense? And why are they slaves?" Hermione asked in response, unable to understand how that made the elves slaves to wizards.
"Since ancient times, elves were something akin to a parasitic organism that had developed incredible intelligence and great magical power. But they couldn't live; they would either die or grow insane. Thus, they made the first contract with humans. You know that elves are very loyal creatures, I'm sure. They are basically allowed to live because they are bonded with wizards and that causes an instinctual sense of debt. That is why the elves are basically servants to wizard kind. Their bonding contract - which the elves themselves perform on willing wizards - basically binds them to absolute loyalty and the inability to disobey orders. Let me show you," said Daphne as she raised her wand and covered the group with Privacy Charms - Harry helped reinforce the Notice-Me-Not Charm after her request.
"Poppy!"
A perfectly healthy house elf with big, bright eyes and a massive green sweater with the Greengrass insignia appeared next to Daphne. The little elf looked around to the people that were staring at her. "Introduce yourself, Poppy."
"Hello, Miss Daffy's friends. I be's Poppy elf, I be Miss Daffy's house elf and I be's house elf of House Greengrass," spoke Poppy with a cute curtsy as Harry choked on his coffee.
"Daffy?" he asked without a breath; the only answer he received was a flying spoon from Daphne.
Daphne repeated everything she said about house elves under Poppy's curious gaze. "Poppy, I want you to answer all the questions that anyone asks with the utmost truth. I don't want you to let your bond with me and my family affect any answer - even if it might be bad for our family, I want only the truth. Okay Poppy?"
"Yes, Miss Daffy."
"Of what I said about house elves, how much of it is true?" the blonde asked with a kind smile.
"All of it be's the truth, young Mistress."
"But we know of a house elf that is free and is perfectly healthy," said Hermione with a still cocked head. "His name is Dobby."
Poppy closed her eyes for a moment before opening them again. "Oh yes, Dobby elf be's healthy, but no free elf be's fully healthy. Reason Dobby elf be's that healthy be's 'cause of Hogwats and 'cause Dobby elf be's full with the Great Harry Potter Master sir's magic."
Harry choked on his coffee - again - and looked at the elf in bewilderment. "Why did you call me that?" he asked. To his shock, the only response he got from the elf was a very smug smile.
"Anything else, sirs and misses?" the elf asked and of course, Hermione still had questions.
"But you are wearing clothes! How are you not free?"
"Happy house elves be's making clothes for one self." said Poppy.
"So that's why Dobby..." Harry's voice trailed off and the elf looked at him with sadness in its eyes.
"Some houses be's violent to us elves. Dobby elf be's treated very badly in old house. Sometimes, sad elf be's wanting to be's free. We elves prefer to serve good houses and prefer to be's free and be's dead if we be's in bad houses. Bad houses be's making elf and wizardzes link weak. Daffy house elves be's treated very good," said the elf as its eyes lit up in happiness. "Daffy be's kind to Poppy, Daffy says Poppy elf is Daffy's friend."
A warm smile decorated Hermione's face before she asked her second to last question. "Why do elves hit themselves?"
A very sly grin decorated Poppy's face as she responded. "Sometimes, elves be's stupid."
The table broke into laughter at that remark. When Hermione stopped, she asked her final question. "I know elves are intelligent. Why are you speaking like this?"
A very smug smile decorated Poppy's face once more. "We only speak that way because it's how we have been taught to speak through generations. Elves are mischievous creatures, Miss Hermione. So somewhere along the line, the elves decided that we didn't need to speak properly because the looks on the faces of wizards and witches is funnier when we do otherwise," the elf explained in perfect English, causing the table to stare in shock before they burst into laughter once more.
The only one that stayed calm - yet smiling - was Daphne who thanked the elf and sent her back to Greengrass Manor.
"So," Hermione started. "I suppose my cause was all for naught. But so many elves already got my clothes..." she lamented, until Harry came to her rescue.
"Actually, Hermione, no elf got your clothes," said Harry, then reconsidered. "Well, one elf got your clothes. Dobby looks like a laundry basket at this point."
The conflicted feelings of betrayal and relief left Hermione speechless, much to the amusement of those around her.
xxx
"Should we have one last session after the D.A. meeting?" Daphne asked Harry as they walked towards the seventh floor using a secret passage from the third floor. The group broke up in to different groups; Ron, Tracey and Astoria used a path from the fifth floor while Hermione and Blaise went by the Grand Staircase; all of that courtesy of Educational Decree 24, and trying to avoid the suspicion of Umbridge and her toadies.
"Sure, why not?" Harry responded coolly and Daphne narrowed her eyes.
"If you're not looking forward to it then there is no reason to have said session," she responded in a frosty tone, earning an amused look from Harry.
"I always look forward to our sessions. I thought that was obvious by now."
Daphne's jaw snapped shut as she prepared a response. Obviously, he caught her off guard - again.
"It wouldn't hurt to show it more," she whispered under her breath.
"What was that?" Harry asked as he failed to understand her whisper. Daphne's cheeks turned red and she turned her head away from him.
"I said 'It wouldn't hurt to hurry more,' " she responded. Harry, of course, cast the Tempus Charm to check the time.
"Fuck, you're right. We do need to hurry," he said as he grabbed her by the wrist and started running.
Within three minutes they reached the Room of Requirement where they found the others, already there and waiting for them to arrive. He couldn't even spare a single second to greet them however, as he felt a Stinging Hex narrowly miss him. He slowly turned his head around - still panting from the sprint - and saw one of the most horrifying things he ever saw. A beet-red Daphne Greengrass with glowing blue eyes scowling at him - also panting from the sprint.
"Harry James Potter, you absolute lunatic," she hissed as she released another Stinging Hex that Harry blocked, followed by a barrage of Stunners that Harry hastily blocked. "You will pay for making me sprint in the hallways like a fool," she hissed once more before continuing her barrage of Stunners. Harry started running around the Room, dodging the spells and blocking the ones that were accurate.
Harry noticed something in his attempts to defend himself. Daphne - despite being red with anger - had a mischievous glint in her eyes. Harry smiled.
"Stupefy!" He called as he saw an opening and two Stunners from opposite sides clashed, creating a flash and a sound akin to a thunderclap. Finally, he had a chance to stop moving. He also noticed, much to his delight, that Daphne could cast some spells silently. Of course, they weren't as strong as when cast with an incantation, but silent casts certainly improved the rate in which she fired them.
Now, however, was the time to give her a real battle. Daphne was certainly strong and skilled enough for that.
In his mind, Harry was filtering every spell he knew at insane speeds - a habit he gained over the summer and over the months that passed since he started his fifth year in Hogwarts. He was calculating what spells had which uses in his current situation; he was in a massive room that was made from stone, and with many objects scattered on the sides of the impromptu arena - observing his surroundings, he noticed that the Room of Requirement had stretched to fit their reckless fight; he also noticed that Blaise, Hermione and Tracey were manically pulling up barriers around them with the help of some older students that arrived since he started his 'dance' with Daphne. Some target dummies were forgotten inside the barrier, too.
Dumbledore's Army needed real spells that had a real use in a fight. They needed the knowledge and skill to properly defend themselves.
Harry already had all of that knowledge, half by experience and the other half by reading during the summer like an absolute lunatic instead of wallowing in misery due to Cedric dying. At his stage, he needed to be unpredictable and resourceful; unpredictability against the single-minded minions of the Dark Lord was a boon. A good fighter could and would use all of his ammunition in a fight. Even more than that, a good fighter could and would use the environment to his advantage. A good fighter could fight with his brain, not just his power. You can't always out-muscle your opponent; more often than not, you need to outsmart your opponent. Harry needed to work on that goal and show his 'students' what they also needed to do. Harry knew that. And that is why Harry had analyzed everything in this particular situation - being stronger than Daphne notwithstanding.
Oh, Harry could do a lot in this battle. And it all started by taking Daphne's control.
The raven-haired wizard made a wide swipe with his wand, aiming at the floor in front of him. "Glacius Maxima!" he called with a hoarse voice and his wand released a wave of freezing wind, flash-freezing the stone floor across their battlefield - even under his own feet - and transforming it to an ice rink that made both him and Daphne move with almost no friction. He expected that much and was able to easily keep his balance. Daphne, however, was caught unaware and slipped as she sent an Impedimenta towards him which he deflected towards the side. She regained stable footing almost immediately however, and started flinging a barrage of Stunners in his direction.
He needed mobility.
He spread his wand-hand to his right - not even aiming remotely close to Daphne - and called his next move.
"Ventus Tria!"
What felt like a pointless move was anything but, Ventus Tria created a burst of wind that almost exploded from the caster's wand if used as a single action - it could also be used continuously, but that wasn't Harry's plan. The wind that his wand released, combined with the frozen stone underneath his shoes propelled him side-ways and caused him to slide across the field. Of course, Daphne's barrage missed and Harry had the opportunity to cast something more complicated.
"Avis Oppugno!" he called and from his wand - mid-slide, of course, as his hand was still extended sideways - around a dozen birds materialized, creating an image akin to a trail of birds along Harry's sliding path. The Oppugno that was used in his incantation meant that the birds moved to attack Daphne immediately when they spawned, but that was not all. "Duro!" The Hardening Charm was used to turn the small flying birds to stone; their momentum being enough to land on Daphne even as small statues. The effect was simple; around a dozen bird-sized stones slammed into Daphne even as she tried to defend against them, eliciting a pained yelp from the blonde and definitely a plethora of bruises. But he wouldn't even give her a chance to fight back.
"Accio Dummy!" was the next spell he used before he used an Incendio to melt the ice in his path and regain stable footing. Apparently, Daphne had the exact same idea as she pulled herself together after the brutal stone attack. But she had no time.
"Oppugno!" he yelled once more as he tapped the Dummy with his wand, causing it to move towards Daphne for an attack.
"REDUCTO!" the - gleeful? - voice of Daphne Greengrass called in order to destroy the imminent threat.
Unfortunately, it was over.
'Checkmate,' Harry thought as he called his final spell.
"Locomotor Mortis."
A green orb of light shot from Harry's wand with impeccable timing, as he expected Daphne's Reducto. The moment the Dummy was hit by the spell, the orb passed through the dust un-obstructed and cleanly hit Daphne's legs, locking them together and causing her to fall with a surprised yelp. A follow-up Disarming Charm knocked her wand out of her hand and it flew right into Harry's open palm.
Silence fell over the now fully attended Room of Requirement as Harry walked towards Daphne and used Episkey almost fifteen times to heal her bruises. Daphne had an impossibly bright and wide grin on her face the whole time. When she stood up and got back her wand, a clap was heard.
The singular clap became a tiny chorus. Slowly, the clapping intensified until it became a full-blown cheering crowd of intense and excited comments, made by their audience.
"That was -"
" - beyond incredible - "
" - Harrykins!" The twins chimed with their trademark twin-speech.
"I have never seen a duel fought like that..." Smith muttered.
Those and other remarks were buzzing in Harry's ears as he curiously observed Daphne's oddly happy face.
"Why are you grinning so much?" he quietly asked the blonde.
"Why should I not be happy? This was one of the greatest duels I could have participated in!" said Daphne enthusiastically. "My father is a professional duelist. I grew up around dueling. Father will be ecstatic to duel you!"
Harry's right eyebrow shot up at the mention of her father, internally questioning why she would consider her father dueling him, of all people. He shook his head, not bothering to get answers on that subject before he turned his head to the group.
"Unfortunately, that is not enough. Not nearly enough," he announced to the group that immediately stopped its buzzing. "Creative and resourceful, yes. That is my aim. But that is neither the most important point of a fight nor the strongest."
Harry started pacing inside the room while he silently summoned multiple dummies a couple of meters in front of him.
"A real fight, a fight with a Death Eater, needs more than just creativity. A fight like that needs skill. It needs speed. It needs strength. In a real fight, you need some things in your arsenal to have a fighting chance," at his last word, he turned his head to the group once more. A serious, yet somber expression was etched on his face.
"First you need silence," he spoke in a quiet tone as he sent a silent Expelliarmus to the nearest dummy, disarming it and knocking it into the wall, shocking everyone in the process. Even the few older students in the group were not that experienced with silent casting.
"Almost every spell can be cast silently. There are spells, however, that absolutely need the incantation to work. One of them being "Expecto Patronum", as you can see." The near-solid stag Patronus paced around the group, earning some gasps of appreciation and awe.
"Silent spells have two distinct advantages; speed and unpredictability. Just think, is a Levitation Charm faster when you chant it? Or when you merely think of it? As for the unpredictability aspect, a silent spell is often an unknown spell. No one knows every spell that exists. More than that, no one can tell the difference between a Tickling Charm and a Bone-Crushing Curse."
Several heads nodded accompanied by hums of approval from his audience.
"Even more spells don't even need specific wand movements, with the exception of healing spells and complicated spells of a ritualistic nature," he kept speaking and he saw Blaise's hand raise hesitantly. "Yes, Blaise."
"Rituals have been forbidden for the last 100 years in Britain, right?"
"Most are, yes. Only the inconsequential rituals are allowed, while some stronger ones are tied to St. Mungo's, Gringotts and the Ministry," the raven-haired teacher responded. He saw Smith's hand raise next and gave him permission with a nod.
"How do you know all of this? And how are you that much ahead of us?"
Harry's face became dark, pensive at Smith's statement.
"All of this is public knowledge," Harry coolly replied. "As for why I'm that much ahead, let me explain something. After the incident with Voldemort in the graveyard, I made a decision." Compared to the first time Harry used the name of the Dark Lord in front of them, his students didn't flinch. Only a couple of eyes twitched at the mention, but that was the extent of their pathological fear - Harry's continuous use of his name numbing them to its effect.
"I made the decision that I would not let myself become content with my current skills and power. The man who killed my parents is walking the earth once more, gathering his followers as we speak. The world is plunging into war, yet again. My own parents fought in that war." Harry's eyes landed on Neville momentarily and noticed that his friend's face had a mean scowl. He continued.
"Personally, I won't stand back in this war. To be honest, I doubt I have a choice in that matter. Being the Boy-Who-Lived and all," he chuckled. "I know many of you still don't believe me and are here simply to learn proper Defense Against the Dark Arts. I don't blame you. But this war is very real and very near. I won't be content in letting his army destroy Britain like they did fifteen years ago. Are any of you willing to let them do that?" Harry's question was answered with a violent uproar from his class. The eyes that were looking at him were lit with a flame of passion and determination.
Harry waited for his class to quiet down as he pondered his next words. The moment the noise ceased, copies of a certain book appeared in front of everyone.
"This book is called "Power in Silence". An in-depth guide in silent casting and rush-casting. What is rush casting, you say? Let me demonstrate the second and third necessities of battle; speed and power," he said in a monologue as he positioned himself in front of five dummies. With a smooth swipe of his wand, five different spells were launched towards them. Every spell was true to its mark. Despite that display, Harry's five spells were very weak compared to the regular spells he cast - an obvious sign that he still needed to train.
Daphne's face was calm during Harry's speech, even as he showcased silent casting openly. When he showcased rush-casting, however, her eyes widened incredibly. Her own father had spent a couple of years mastering rush-casting.
"Rush-casting is an invaluable skill for every duelist and fighter. Every single one of you can do it if you practice it enough. As such, I want you to read everything this book has to say about silent casting before the next meeting. If you can practice spells on your own, like the Spark Producing spell, even better. The goal of this year in general will be to perfect our skill in spell casting. Silent, fast and efficient."
A smile slowly decorated Harry's face as he opened his arms.
"But for tonight, we will simply revise! I want everyone to practice all of the spells that we have learnt so far and perfect them. We will start from our first lesson, being Expelliarmus, the Disarming Charm, and when everyone is able to cast it without movement we can move to the next spell we learnt. This is the final thing we all need to stand a chance," Harry spoke as his eyes observed his class.
"Training. No one can simply wake up one morning and know two hundred more spells, nor can anyone wake up and be the perfect duelist. We will fight to achieve that, we won't just hope for it. Everyone, stand in front of a dummy."
Everyone followed Harry's command in record time. His speech helping to motivate his group to their utmost potential. Even Luna looked serious and determined - Harry wondered where her dreamy look went.
Within a minute, every member of the D.A. was in front of a target dummy with their wands primed.
"Everyone ready?" Harry asked.
"YES!" The troop roared in response, causing Harry to smirk.
"Well then. On my mark."
"Three. Two. One. BEGIN!" Harry roared and the room was drowned in incantations and spell lights.
xxx
The biggest meeting of the D.A. thus far had been a great success. One and a half hours after the revision started, almost everyone had managed to perfect every spell they had been taught so far. Their passion and dedication was strong enough to saturate the air.
All of that made Harry so proud of his students, inspired by them. He was so inspired in fact that he started training advanced curses on his own. Much to his amusement, however, he had to stop since everyone stopped their training to observe him.
Despite all of the positive mood, one thing was constantly annoying him. Cho Chang simply couldn't leave him alone during the whole meeting while he was trying to avoid her like the plague. Even her actions were completely weird and uncomfortable in Harry's eyes; her voice was overly sappy and sweet, while she was always 'accidentally' touching him. It was creepy more than anything.
"Alright guys, that is enough," said Harry and gathered everyone around him.
"You're all getting very good. You have all made incredible progress and I would dare say that we are ahead of most Sixth and Seventh years," Harry beamed at them. "I wouldn't be surprised if we could start on the hard stuff when you return from holidays - spells like the Patronus Charm."
There were murmurs of excitement as everyone started leaving the Room of Requirement in the usual groups of three people. Most people were wishing Harry a Merry Christmas as he stacked the cushions and dummies in the corners of the room. Since he would be staying for one more hour in the room, he motioned Hermione and Ron to go ahead without. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Cho Chang send her friend away without her too.
Not bothering to think about that too much, he walked to the notice board in the corner of the room. His eyes fell on a picture Neville brought a couple of sessions ago. It was a picture of a smiling group of people, yet Harry couldn't care about anyone except his parents, smiling at him from the magical photograph. Smiling, he picked it up and turned it around to read the signature written in familiar curved letters.
The Order of The Phoenix
1979
A.P.W.B.D.
Augusta Longbottom, grandmother of Neville, had given this picture to him for his 15th birthday, along with everything she knew about the Order of The Phoenix; something that Neville passed down to Harry since he saw many similarities between the D.A. and the Order. In Neville's words, 'The Rebirth of the Order'.
Harry put the picture back in its rightful place and turned around when he heard a heavy sniff.
Cho was standing in the middle of the room alone, tears pouring down her face as she was crying silently.
"What is wrong, Cho?" Harry asked as he walked up to her.
Cho tried to wipe the tears off her face with her sleeve. "It's- it's just... What i- if Cedric knew this- this stuff?" she said between her sobs under Harry's inscrutable gaze.
"Cedric knew more than me, at the time. He was a skilled fighter," said Harry in a calm manner. It didn't work well, however, if her infuriated gaze was anything to go by.
"But you still live," she said simply, causing Harry to narrow his eyes. "How are you alive and he is dead if he knew more than you? It is not fair!" she yelled. "You are who the Dark Lord wants to kill; you should be the one dead, not Cedric! And you don't even help me cope with it!"
"What am I supposed to do, Chang? Am I supposed to turn back time?" Harry whispered in a dangerous tone, causing Cho to flinch. The emerald vortex in his eyes, decorating his dangerously calm expression wasn't helping, either.
"Am I supposed to somehow go back in time to save Cedric? And since I can't, am I supposed to take Cedric's spot in your life?" Harry took one step closer, hovering above Cho. "Better yet, am I supposed to die to console you?"
"N- No, that..."
"Silence," Harry commanded, causing Cho's mouth to snap shut. "Is this why you have been negative and aggressive since we started these lessons? You wish that Cedric was here with us? Is this also why you were acting so weird today?" Silent sobs were the only answer he got - not that he wanted an answer to begin with.
"Can you see Thestrals, Cho?" He simply asked. Cho, surprised, pondered the question, vaguely remembering what a Thestral is. She shook her head.
"Exactly. You can't see Thestrals because you have not seen death. But I can," he said as he turned around and shot an Explosion Charm at one of the dummies.
"DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO SPEAK TO ME ABOUT HIS DEATH! I SAW CEDRIC DIE IN FRONT OF ME CHO, NOT YOU!" The boy snarled as he sent another spell to the dummies. He took several deep breaths and recalled Daphne's teachings to reign his rage in. As he calmed down, he turned around to look at Cho again.
"I am the one who saw the Killing Curse hit his body before he fell limp to the ground. I am the one who wakes up at night, having nightmares about his death," he said in a quiet tone as Cho was weeping properly. "What you feel as loss, I feel doubled as a burden. A burden in my heart that screams every time I remember Cedric. A burden that screams of weakness; of simply being not enough to save him or anyone."
"You see Cho, that is why I'm doing all of this. That is why I study everything and ace my classes. I want to know as much as possible about this world and how to survive and win in it, to develop myself as much as possible. That is also why I train everyone here. Fuck Umbridge. The only reason I teach you is that I want you all to be ready to fight. That is the least I can do to avoid another Cedric."
His eyes drifted to the door of the Room and he saw Daphne looking at him with an inscrutable expression.
"Get out…and Merry Christmas," Harry spoke to Cho as he turned around once more to repair the broken dummies, fully content to end his encounter with the girl.
Cho herself didn't need another reason to leave. She turned around and ran out of the Room, trying to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the Room of Requirement. She didn't even notice the blonde Slytherin as she exited the room.
Silence descended in the room, the only thing breaking it being the dummies that were being repaired. Daphne slowly started walking towards Harry as the door vanished.
"How much did you see?" Harry asked without turning to look at her.
"Everything," she coolly replied as she stopped right next to him. "I should have known."
"What?" Harry asked as he turned to look at her. His face was a stone mask, complimenting Daphne's own.
"That Cho was holding on to you because of Cedric," said Daphne as she turned to look at him as well, deep blue connecting with emerald.
Harry chuckled humorlessly. "I would never have caught on to it. Not if you were not my teacher," he replied.
"How so?"
"You have taught me many things, Daphne. More than what we originally agreed on," he said as he turned to a corner of the room and thought of a coffee table and two armchairs. Of course, the Room of Requirement made his wish a reality. He sat down on one of the armchairs.
"You taught me basic Occlumency, didn't you? With those breathing and mind exercises you gave me. I thought it was just a basic exercise to keep my temper under control," said Harry in a serious tone that caused Daphne to fluster. Every interaction she had with Harry made her Ice Queen persona weaker, to the point of finding it impossible to keep up the act with him.
"Yes. I did. Basic Occlumency is very easy to master. My grandfather taught me and Astoria basic Occlumency when we were young and I figured you might need it," she replied as she took the other armchair for herself.
"I am thankful. To be honest, I would have no idea. I just happened to stumble on the term 'Occlumency' as I was reading a book on the Mind Arts," he explained as a realization dawned on him. "That's how you always keep your ice mask. You constantly use Occlumency!" Harry said in a scandalized tone.
Daphne chuckled in response. "Well, you're right. But I have to say, you're pulling it off better than me. A mask like that suits you."
Harry's eyebrow shot up but he chose not to comment on her words. "Well, controlling my emotions isn't the only benefit. I have noticed that I can analyze things better because I remain calm; that's how I figured out what was wrong with Cho. I am no Legilimens, but she was easy enough to figure out."
"These are not the only advantages of Occlumency, Harry. When you reach higher stages you gain many mental abilities. Faster thought processes, a photographic memory, while on the Master stages you can control your mind to the extent of creating a second personality. You can even lie under Veritaserum," explained Daphne. She noticed Harry's enthusiasm in his beautiful green eyes. "Dad once told me of a Master Occlumens that could have proper discussions with his secondary personality to solve problems. Just imagine the possibilities!"
"Can you teach me?" Harry asked impatiently. He was sold on Occlumency when he heard of the faster thought process.
"Unfortunately not," Daphne responded sadly. "You need a master Occlumens to mentor you through the higher stages and I'm surely not one of them." She felt him grab her forearm and softly squeeze it. She turned her eyes to look at his face and saw his infamous lop-sided grin decorating it. Her heart skipped a beat.
"It's alright Daph. You've done more than enough for me," he said, his smile never leaving his face. "I will try to develop it, eventually. Maybe we can develop it together,' he added, causing Daphne to blush.
"M- Maybe we can," she responded breathlessly, but composed herself before she melted in front of him. "So, we only have one topic left to cover. The Grimoires," she started.
"Yes," he nodded. "I have done some research on my own, however, so there is not much we can discuss. I just have to wait until I turn seventeen to access the family vaults, it seems."
"Wait wait," Daphne said and looked at him incredulously. "You are 15 years old, right?"
Harry nodded, not knowing where she was going with it.
"Then you are Heir Potter officially. You should have your-" Daphne's eyes turned to Harry's left hand, noticing that something was missing. "-ring. Where is your Heir ring? You should have gotten your ring when you turned 15."
"What do you mean?" he asked curiously.
"Did you not go to Gringotts to claim your Heir status?"
"No...?" His answer earned a glare from Daphne who huffed.
"When you turn 15, you are promoted to Heir of the House. You go to Gringotts, confirm your lineage and sign the documents related to your status. Then, you get the ring of Heir Potter and gain independent access to the family vaults. You have not only missed your Grimoire, you have missed plenty of other artifacts that are locked away; not to mention that you can legally access the Wizengamot," Daphne explained, trying to stay calm. She was not angry at Harry, of course. She was angry with the adults in his life that failed to teach him how the world he lived in works.
"No one told me..." he murmured as he pondered the opportunities, thinking of what he could gain from entering the Potter Family Vault.
"I know," she responded and moved closer to him. "You can do that over the holidays. But it's pointless to think about it now. It is enough that you know about it."
"You're right. I'll go to Gringotts the day we leave Hogwarts," he responded, his lop-sided grin returning to his face, causing Daphne's heart to skip yet again.
They sat in comfortable silence as they drank some tea that Dobby brought. Harry broke it some time later.
"So, we're done with our lessons, huh?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
"It seems so. I guess this will be our last meeting, then," Daphne said, a tinge of unexplainable sadness in her voice.
"Doesn't have to be. I mean-" Harry paused before considering his words. "I don't mind hanging out with you. I enjoy your company," he continued. He was completely honest with his words, something that Daphne could easily realize.
"I would love that, Harry," she responded easily. While she would never accept it or admit it, she really did enjoy Harry's company and friendship. She was feeling nice every time she was around him and she learned to accept that fact. She had one fear about this whole affair, however. She was afraid that she would become attached to Harry, more than she already was. He was better than she hoped all those years.
No man in her life managed to get close to her. Most men feared and avoided her, while other men couldn't even spark her interest. The only man she had close was Blaise, whom she considered a brother and was her actual cousin. Harry, on the other hand, she could never see as a brother. She was close to him; she wanted to be close to him. Harry felt more than a friend to her, but she couldn't recognize him as a brother. She never had.
"Daph? Are you alright?" Harry asked in a quiet tone, worry in his eyes.
"Yes, why are you asking?" she responded with a red tinge decorating her pale face.
"Because you didn't respond when I asked you if you want to go to our dorms since we are so late," Harry deadpanned. "Twice," he added for good measure, making Daphne blush even further.
"I was just thinking about the upcoming D.A. meetings," Daphne responded with a dismissive wave. "But yes, we really should go. We are 40 minutes late." She added as she stood up, followed by Harry. Despite both of them ready to leave, however, neither of them moved.
"Look..." they both started, cutting each other off. Harry's right eyebrow shot up while Daphne narrowed her eyes.
Taking advantage of the momentary silence, Harry started again. "I just wanted to thank you. For everything you've done for me."
"I did nothing, Harry. I just showed you what you should have already known from the people who take care of you," Daphne responded dismissively.
"I know," he responded and turned around to capture her in a tight hug. Daphne screamed internally, yet nothing made its way to the surface except a surprised yelp that escaped her lips. She responded to his hug, her hands hesitantly wrapping around his waist. "You barely know me, yet you treated me like a friend. Thank you for that," he whispered in her ear.
"You're welcome," she whispered back to him; her voice breathless for reasons unknown.
Harry released her and pulled back, his famous grin decorating his face once again. In a moment of mental numbness, Daphne leaned to him and kissed him on his cheek, dangerously close to his lips. She pulled back and smiled at him with a slight tinge of pink on her beautiful face.
"Merry Christmas, Professor Potter," Daphne said in a sweet tone before she hurriedly left the Room of Requirement.
Harry snorted as he saw her exit the room. "Merry Christmas, Daph," he whispered to himself as he left the room after her.
Neither of them noticed the mistletoe that hung above them during their farewell.
xxx
'Harry's body felt smooth, powerful, and flexible. He was gliding between shining metal bars, across dark, cold stone.... He was flat against the floor, sliding along on his belly....
It was dark, yet he could see objects around him shimmering in strange, vibrant colors... He was turning his head...
At first glance, the corridor was empty... but no... a man was sitting on the floor ahead, his chin drooping onto his chest, his outline gleaming in the dark... Harry put out his tongue... He tasted the man's scent in the air... He was alive but drowsing... sitting in front of a door at the end of the corridor...
Harry longed to bite the man... but he must master the impulse... He had more important work to do...
But the man was stirring... a silvery cloak fell from his legs as he jumped to his feet; and Harry saw his vibrant, blurred outline towering above him, saw a wand withdrawn from a belt... He had no choice...
He reared high from the floor and struck once, twice, three times, plunging his fangs deeply into the man's flesh, feeling his ribs splinter beneath his jaws, feeling the warm gush of blood... The man was yelling in pain... then he fell silent... He slumped backward against the wall... Blood was splattering onto the floor...'
His forehead hurt terribly... It felt like it was about to burst...
"Harry! HARRY!"
He opened his eyes. Every inch of his body was covered in icy sweat; his bed covers were twisted all around him like a straitjacket; he felt as though a white-hot poker was being applied to his forehead.
"Harry!"
Harry jumped up from his bed, knocking Ron and Neville aside as he sprinted outside of the dormitory. In his dazed and pained state he didn't stop as he exited the dorms, slamming into a wall as a result. He didn't let that stop him as he whipped his head back to look at Ron.
"Come with me to the Headmaster's Office. Now." he hissed and started running again, barely noticing Ron's hurried footsteps echoing behind him.
He never slowed down as he ran down the Grand Staircase to enter the corridor heading to Dumbledore's office. He did need to stop, however, as he saw Professor McGonagall in front of him.
"What exactly are you doing this late in the night, Potter? What is wrong with you?" McGonagall almost yelled in shock as she used a silent Slowing Charm on the boy. Her expression quickly turned to worry as she saw the state the boy was in; his face was as white as a sheet of paper with a slight tinge of green and he looked like someone dropped a bucket of water on him. The boy also had his wand in his hand, even though he was barely holding on to it.
"Mr. Weasley has been attacked," Harry responded out of breath, not paying attention to the shocked gulp that came from the red-head behind him. He came to a spot next to the Professor, something that proved to be a bad idea as he emptied the contents of his stomach the moment he stopped moving.
McGonagall's eyes widened comically as she quickly saw Harry vomit all over the floor next to her. Before she could clean it, however, she saw the dazed boy flick his wand and cast a silent Scouring Charm.
Pleasant shock and pride intermixed with the negative shock and worry she already felt, caused her to freeze inexplicably. She decided the overload of contrastic emotions didn't help the situation, so she steeled herself and hurried towards Dumbledore's office.
"Fizzing Whizbee," said Professor McGonagall and the gargoyle sprang to life before leaping aside, revealing the familiar stone staircase behind the wall. McGonagall and the two boys rushed up the stairs, stopping in front of the office door.
Professor McGonagall rapped three times with the griffin knocker.
"Come in," the calm voice of Dumbledore was heard behind the door as it opened on its own. As the boys entered with McGonagall, Harry jumped a bit as a massive red and gold bird flew to him and perched on his shoulder, lightly nudging his pale cheek with its beak. Harry absent-mindedly stroked the neck of the phoenix as he walked towards the Headmaster's desk. He didn't pay attention to the shocked gaze of McGonagall and Dumblodore's scrutinizing eyes. Even the portraits stopped feigning sleep in order to observe the actions of the Phoenix. It was understandable; No one ever saw Fawkes acting like that with someone except Dumbledore.
The Headmaster's gaze shifted towards McGonagall. "What is wrong, Prof-"
"Arthur Weasley is gravely injured," said Harry, cutting off the Headmaster. The furious gazes and grunts of the portraits of the Headmasters of the past never reached his ears.
"How do you know this?" Dumbledore asked quietly, looking at his interlocked fingers instead of Harry.
"I saw it. In my nightmare," he responded in turn. Some portraits scoffed but Dumbledore's hand stopped them. He was still looking at his fingers.
"Can you remember where you were positioned as you watched this attack happen? Were you perhaps standing beside the victim, or else looking down on the scene from above?"
Harry narrowed his eyes. He noticed something he knew for a long time, yet didn't bother to think about. The Professor seemed to know what Harry actually saw. Thinking back, Harry noted that Professor Dumbledore always knew.
"Neither," he said in a quiet voice. "I was the snake."
Ron's gasp caused him to turn his head towards him. Ron was completely pale and his fear was obvious. Of course, Ron knew better than to doubt Harry.
Dumbledore's eyes shifted from his fingers to Ron and spoke in a new and sharper voice. "Is Arthur seriously injured?"
"Would I run here if he wasn't?" Harry hissed impatiently, feeling enraged that the Headmaster didn't even spare him a look since he entered. A single yell of annoyance against Harry's foul attitude towards the Headmaster was heard from the portraits before Dumbledore snapped his wand towards them, effectively silencing every one of them. Still, he didn't look at Harry who was slowly seething.
The good Professor stood up so quickly that Harry flinched, and started discussing with some portraits. Harry barely spared a glance as a couple of Headmasters disappeared from their portraits before conjuring a chair for himself. It was a crude attempt; the chair was wooden and the absolute bare minimum of what a chair could be - uncomfortable, too. Yet he couldn't care less as he sat down on it and filtered out all the noise from the room. His thoughts were jumping from the irritation caused by Dumbledore's behavior to worry about Mr. Weasley's condition. He knew he couldn't do more at this moment to help the situation, anyway.
His train of thought was broken as he saw Dumbledore looking at the phoenix perched on his shoulder in bewilderment.
"You know I cannot do that yet, Fawkes," the Professor spoke in a pensive and regretful tone. Harry shifted his gaze to the phoenix in question; his shock was great as he saw Fawkes looking at Dumbledore with angry, narrowed eyes.
"It is not your call to tell him yourself!" the Headmaster suddenly yelled to his bird, the panic in his voice evident. "Please, work with me, old friend. Just deliver the warning and don't make this so hard on me."
Fawkes responded by puffing his chest out in indignation and his eyes somehow narrowed even more. The stare-down between the Professor and the phoenix continued for a full minute of tense silence under the bewildered gazes of the portraits and Minerva McGonagall. In the end, Dumbledore sighed in resignation before slumping back in his chair.
"I will try. Just please, go," he said in a tone that resembled a whisper. With a last nudge with his beak at Harry's cheek, the phoenix disappeared in flames - Harry noticed that the flames didn't burn him; they were merely warm and welcoming.
Dumbledore didn't spare a single glance at Harry, further provoking his irritation.
As everyone was moving around him, having heated discussions Harry found himself zoning out. His eyes drifted out of focus, staring at nothing in particular as he mentally plunged deep in his own mind in an attempt to gather his rage and reinforce his rudimentary Occlumency defenses. He tugged and pulled the imaginary threads in his own mind, trying to gather his thoughts, plunging ever deeper...
Inside his own subconscious he opened his eyes and saw a vast ocean of images, smells, noises and feelings, ever swimming in the void. Fleeting images of events he lived but could not recognize floated around him. He belatedly noticed that he was floating in the middle of everything.
Feelings in a panoply of many colours hung freely in that same void, some close, others some distance away; Harry noted that it looked like a weird depiction of a galaxy. He also noticed that most of them had dark colors; some gray, some a deep blood red and some even pitch-black, contrasting even in the dark void in which they were situated. Scattered between them were a few bright colours, ranging from green to blue to pink. It didn't take long before Harry realized what he was witnessing. Those were his feelings. Everything he felt in his life until now. It didn't surprise him to see that most of them were negative; he already knew that much.
His studies helped him to search further in the void representing his mind. He floated closer to a fleeting image and touched it, determined to learn how to work his way around his subconscious.
The moment he touched the image the void was abruptly replaced with an abandoned classroom. It was dark and unlit; with a glance outside the windows he saw that the moon was hanging freely on the sky, letting Harry know that it was a bit past midnight. Another look around the room brought a smile to his face.
In the middle of the room, a young boy with bright green eyes, glasses and disheveled hair was looking in a massive ornate mirror. The expression on the boy's face betrayed a mixture of sadness and happiness. It was the only natural reaction the boy could have; he knew, even back then, that the Mirror of Erised only showed the true desire of a person, not the reality surrounding it. While the boy was happy he could finally see his parents, he knew it was not real. It would never be.
Harry started moving towards the boy and the mirror before stopping in his tracks as something in his head clicked. After a moment of thought related to the name of the mirror he chuckled and resumed moving.
"I should have noticed that the real name of this damned object is 'Mirror of Desire'," he mused internally.
The distance between him and the mirror was covered in mere seconds. His eyes fell on the engravings carved on the frame of the mirror. After the bare minimum of thought, he shifted his gaze to the bewitched expression of his younger self.
"Perhaps it won't hurt to look at the mirror once more myself..." he thought and turned his eyes to the mirror, expecting to see his parents one last time.
His breath hitched as he took in the reflection on the Mirror of Desire.
Harry Potter was standing alone in a vast field of greenery and flowers. The sun shone happily in the sky, spreading its warmth to the Boy-Who-Lived and the world surrounding him. His reflection was smiling as he spread his hand in a gesture towards the lush ground around him. It was a happy, peaceful sight.
As the real Harry tried to process the sight, he noticed himself growing. Physically growing. His height slowly shot up as his body filled out. His features got sharper and his hair got wilder. His eyes had a steady, calm glow in them and a serious, sharper glint decorated them, signifying the years of experience. The growth then continued at a faster rate, adding laugh lines and wrinkles on his forehead and face. Then, the growth stopped.
Harry was silently observing his older self. He looked to be around his early thirties; maybe even forties. As he recognized that change in full, the mirror suddenly added something to the picture. The outline of a human - no, a woman - started to form next to Harry, her hand holding on to a smaller hand that belonged to a child that started to form next to her. Features started being added to the woman; first, a stylish emerald-green dress was formed on her blank outline, highlighting her exquisite body shape. The robe was short, ending around the lower part of her thighs. After that, her legs gained a pale skin color. Harry noted that the skin of the woman was smooth and free of blemishes. The next detail of the figure were the pair of green high-heels that gave her some height, giving the woman enough height to help the top of her head reach Harry's eyes.
The boy decided to stop waiting for the figure to complete itself and turned his eyes to the blank face. He expected the head to have no features yet.
Yet his eyes met a pair of sapphire-blue orbs that floated in the empty frame of the woman. The gazes of the boy and the construct connected; blue clashed with emerald-green, giving Harry the feeling that his head was being pierced. He should have felt fear and awe at the power the mirror freely exhibited, but the only thought that governed him was how much he enjoyed the warm gaze of these eyes...
"Harry!"
Harry slowly focused his eyes to the present. He looked around with a serene gaze and witnessed Professor McGonagall and the Weasleys - whom he had never heard arrive - looking at him with terrified expressions. His eyes then drifted to the Headmaster and noticed that he was looking at him with an inscrutable expression on his face. Harry's serenity was evident in his eyes; while some would think he is completely insane to be terrifyingly calm in a situation like this, others would believe he is possessed.
Neither was true. Harry simply composed himself and found a sense of true peace during his brief trip down memory lane; peace that refused to leave his mind.
"Is everything alright?" Harry asked dumbly, causing McGonagall to send him a furious look.
"What do you mean, Mr. Potter? You were out of this-"
"That is quite enough, Minerva," said Dumbledore as he raised his hand in a placating gesture. "I am aware of what happened to young Harry, and I assure you that it is nothing to be afraid of." McGonagall tried to protest, but the Headmaster's next words put an end to her tirade before it began.
"Occlumency. Crudely executed, but successful nonetheless," said Dumbledore and Minerva snapped her jaw shut. Her gaze drifted slowly to Harry once more. The boy also noticed that her eyes were full of curiosity and pride.
"I wonder how McGonagall can handle such changes in her mood," Harry thought, greatly amused by the display his Professor gave everyone.
"So. I want everyone to touch the Portkey," said Dumbledore who moved his gaze to Harry once more. "Except Harry. He will join you later," he announced and the red-haired siblings hesitantly grabbed on to the blackened old kettle. The next moment, the Portkey shone a bright white light before everyone disappeared, leaving the Headmaster, Professor McGonagall and Harry alone in the office.
The momentary silence was broken as a golden flame flared to life in the middle of the room and Fawkes appeared, flying towards Harry before perching on his shoulder. Harry absentmindedly stroked Fawkes' plumage as he enjoyed the sight of Dumbledore's incredulous look.
"I will return to my quarters," Professor McGonagall announced and turned to leave. She stopped right before the wooden door and looked at Harry. "Please be careful, Harry," the woman pleaded.
"I will, Professor. Thank you," said Harry with a small smile and McGonagall left.
For the millionth time, silence descended inside the Headmaster's office. The silence was charged with awkward tension between Professor Dumbledore, Harry and the portraits of the Headmasters who didn't even bother to feign sleep in order to observe the encounter.
"Please Harry, take a seat," Dumbledore said as he transfigured Harry's crudely-made chair, making it a comfortable armchair. Harry swiftly sat down and got comfortable for the long overdue discussion he was about to have.
"First of all, I want you to know-"
"Please, Professor," Harry interjected. No one raised complaints this time. "I just want answers and help. Help that you refused to give me since the Triwizard Tournament."
Dumbledore sighed. "I know, my boy. You just need to trust me when I say that it is too soon-" The Professor was once again interrupted; this time by a piercing shriek of irritation that came from Fawkes.
Harry was surprised to see Dumbledore physically falter in front of his phoenix, resignation obvious in his twinkling eyes.
"I believe that you are the only one who thinks that it is too soon for anything, Professor," said Harry in a serious tone. Several grunts of agreement were heard from the portraits of the Headmasters, much to Harry's amusement.
Dumbledore was silent. His scrutinizing eyes were locked with Harry's own serene emerald orbs. After a moment of thinking, he spoke.
"You have been training Occlumency," said Dumbledore in a matter-of-fact tone. Harry nodded. "It is only a beginner's attempt at the subject, yet you managed to enter your mind and interact with your own memories. It is a great achievement."
"How do you-" Harry started but cut himself off. Something clicked in his mind. "You are a Legilimens." Harry announced as realization struck.
"Yes. I don't use Legilimency on students, it is forbidden inside Hogwarts. But when you were not responding while you were awake, I found that course of action necessary," said Dumbledore as he stood up and walked towards a shelf full of strange silver instruments. "I suggest you never do this again while you have your eyes closed. Entering your mind proved extremely dangerous."
"How so?"
"Well, you did enter your own memory. You see, Harry, a master Legilimens can enter your mind freely. He can see your thoughts and feelings, as well as enter your memories. But, not like this. You were already detached when I entered your head. You can understand that it was an extremely peculiar experience; entering your mind as your mind was already inside your mind, reviewing a memory."
Despite himself, Harry chuckled at the blunt - some would say crude - explanation of Dumbledore's Legilimency on him.
"Why did you enter the memory of the Mirror of Erised?" Dumbledore asked bluntly, catching Harry off guard.
"I didn't choose it, Professor," he replied. Dumbledore's questioning look made him explain further. "It's the first time I entered my mind like that. The only thing I have developed is control over my emotions and expressions."
"I see, I see..." The Professor hummed as he stroked his beard. "What you saw in the mirror was different this time, was it not?"
Harry's eyes widened for a moment before returning to their normal state. "Yes. Why is that?"
Dumbledore turned to face the boy before he spoke. "The Mirror of Erised is an ancient artifact that employs incredibly potent and ancient magic. I already told you that much during your first year in Hogwarts. What you don't know is how that magic works on people."
The Headmaster slowly moved towards his chair and sat down once more. He interlocked his fingers once more but his eyes were locked on Harry's; a serious expression decorating his face.
"The magic the Mirror of Erised employs directly touches the subconscious of the user," Dumbledore explained. "It is an obscure artifact, in all honesty. When you lay your eyes upon the mirror, its magic touches your mind in ways no mere Legilimens can. It reaches the deepest part of your subconsciousness and brings your deepest, most hidden desires on the surface. Things you may not even be aware of."
"I thought I would see my parents again..." Harry murmured in response, his eyes drifting towards the ground.
"Your true desires must have changed," Dumbledore spoke in a soothing tone. Harry's eyes turned to Dumbledore's once more. "You have grown as a person and wizard, Harry. Your values have changed and your desires changed with them. You have been through so many things, my dear boy..."
"It's not just that, Professor," said Harry. "Since I was in my memory, I expected to see the same thing. Or maybe a normal reflection."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as Harry spoke. "I believe you can figure it out on your own. Why would you see a vision if you were not standing in front of the real Mirror of Erised?"
Harry's brows furrowed as he thought about the subject. He didn't need to think too much; the answer clicked in his head. "It's about the subconscious, isn't it? It recognizes the mirror as the Mirror of Erised?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled even more as he regarded Harry with pride. "Twenty points to Gryffindor for that answer. It is not exactly what happens, but it's as far as your mind can go without knowing. When you look into the mirror for the first time its magic leaves a permanent imprint in your mind. That imprint acts independently and doesn't not affect any other function of the wizard. But when you look into the mirror again, even in a mere memory, you can see your deepest desire as your subconscious shows it. Sometimes, it is even stronger than looking into the actual artifact. That only works during Occlumency and Pensieve viewing, however." Harry's questioning gaze brought a smile to Dumbledore's face; he really enjoyed witnessing the boy's occasional thirst for knowledge.
"You know what Legilimency is, right Harry?" Harry nodded in response. "When you view a memory through Legilimency, you view it through the victim's eyes, you don't roam freely in it like you do in a Pensieve. When you look into the Mirror of Erised through Legilimency, you see nothing. You simply see the pure reflection of the victim. The only way you can discover the reflection your victim saw in the mirror is to forcefully access and search his accumulated knowledge, which is an extremely hard task even against a wizard that has zero knowledge on Occlumency. There is one more way, of course, but it is even harder; You need to Legilimize the other while he is looking into the mirror."
Harry couldn't respond to any of that; there was no need to. He simply absorbed all of that knowledge like a sponge. Dumbledore knew that of course, so he switched the subject since there was nothing else to add about the fabled Mirror of Desire.
"So you are a beginner Occlumens," the good Professor remarked as Harry simply curved his lip. "You seem to have a great talent for it, too. Who taught you?"
The raven-haired boy didn't answer immediately. He was reluctant to speak about his lessons and relationship with Daphne. He figured, however, that if he couldn't confide in Dumbledore he couldn't trust anyone.
"Daphne Greengrass," the boy coolly responded. Apparently, Dumbledore didn't expect that answer, if his widened eyes were anything to go by.
"Of course, it is common within the Greengrass family to teach their children beginner Occlumency," Dumbledore hummed. "I didn't expect you to become an ally of a Greengrass heir, my boy. You should cherish that privilege."
Harry's eyebrows shot up. "What do you mean, Professor?"
"The Greengrass Decree is fairly simple and falls in line with their motto. 'Rarely allied, always loyal'. House Decrees are basically extensions of the Family motto… Do you know of House Decrees, Harry?" The Headmaster asked in his foolishness. He was indeed foolish to ask about that specific topic; he realized that much as he felt a weak wave of energy fly by him.
Harry's eyes narrowed and flashed dangerously, glaring at Professor Dumbledore. "Unfortunately, Professor, the adults in my life never cared to inform me as to how the Noble and Most Ancient Houses operate. Come to think of it, the adults that have taken care of me since I came to the Wizarding World have never cared to inform me about anything."
Dumbledore belatedly noticed that Harry was right. Yet he knew it was too late to fix anything. "I can always teach you-"
"There is no need, Chief Warlock," Harry said in a calm tone, emphasizing the title Dumbledore held within the Wizengamot. "Daphne taught me more than simple Occlumency. Occlumency was secondary, in fact. You see Professor, Daphne made me acutely aware of what I didn't know about the Wizarding World. I didn't even know anything about my own House. So I asked her to teach me everything there is to know about the Pureblood families and their customs. And yes, that includes House Decrees."
Dumbledore was taken aback by Harry's cold and blunt tone. He was not scared or unsettled; merely surprised. He noticed that the Harry, nay, the Potter Scion, in front of him was more confident and didn't swallow his thoughts. It was a welcome change in the Headmaster's eyes.
"I am very sorry, Harry. I should have known that such a thing would happen, it was a disastrous oversight," Dumbledore honestly responded and Harry's glare softened. He didn't need to add what the oversight was exactly; the Weasleys were famous for their anti-Pureblood stance while Sirius Black was locked in Azkaban for twelve years. None of them were fit to teach Harry about his own heritage, and while he could teach the boy, his own foolishness had made him neglect it - coupled with a hint of fear.
Fear that Harry could not be protected if he became independent.
"It's alright, Professor," said Harry in a faked calm manner. "I simply ask to visit Gringotts during the holidays. I want to claim my title, that of Heir Potter."
"Of course!" Came the immediate response of the Headmaster.
"That is not all," Harry kept speaking, cutting off the Headmaster from speaking further. "I will not move from this office until you tell me everything that I need to know. Including the things that you believe I shouldn't know yet."
"Harry, you need to-"
"No, Professor, I don't need anything except answers."
"I do not want to put you in danger!" Dumbledore replied, his voice shaky yet raised.
Harry, much to Dumbledore's shock, scoffed at his words. "Please Professor. I believe it is a bit too late for that. Ever since I walked into this school danger has been following me," Harry spoke, his calm voice slowly breaking. "No, since I was born. I became the Boy-Who-Lived the day my parents died. And now, the man who failed to kill me is back, and walking amongst the living. That very man marked me his equal and tried to kill me last summer, not to mention my first year where Voldemort tried to kill me in his attempt to steal the Stone; or the spirit of Voldemort that tried to kill me in the Chamber of Secrets. Frankly, I very much doubt that these will be the only times he will come after me either. So how exactly am I supposed to stay out of danger, Professor? How should I do that when danger chases after me?"
Dumbledore was frozen and completely silent. For the first time in his lengthy life, someone had rendered him speechless. He was humbled by a fifteen year old boy. The fact that Fawkes had a - somehow -smug look on his face didn't help either.
"I might be young, sir, but I believe that it would be better to inform me about the dangers that threaten me. That would actually be helpful. Being kept in the dark would only make things worse."
The moment Harry finished his tirade, silence took hold of the office. Harry had nothing else to add in this conversation and simply waited.
Dumbledore, for his part, seemed lost in his thoughts. He was intently looking at his interlocked fingers, occasionally stealing glances towards Fawkes and the portraits of the past Headmasters; he never once looked up at Harry.
Harry had really grown, Dumbledore realised. He wasn't talking to a young boy that had just taken his first steps into Magical Britain. He was talking to a grown man inside a teen's body. A teen that was forced to grow up as he faced the worst that fate could throw at him. A man that faced and conquered horrors no one had dared to think of conquering. Harry Potter was a grown, battle-hardened man despite his young age. He had no right to keep secrets from such a man.
Five full minutes passed in complete silence before Dumbledore's gaze landed on Harry's eyes. With a flick of his wand, a bottle of Firewhiskey and a glass flew to the desk in front of the Headmaster from an open cabinet that hung upon the wall; a large bottle of butterbeer followed after it, landing in front of the young Potter. Fawkes chirped triumphantly.
"I will tell you everything that I know, Harry Potter. And we will begin with the most important thing you need to know," the Headmaster said as he stood up and poured his drink of choice into his glass. The twinkle in his eyes was gone; a completely serious and professional expression decorated his face instead.
The man standing in front of Harry wasn't the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Harry was speaking with Albus Dumbledore, the Defeater of the Dark Lord Grindelwald.
"Have you ever heard of Horcruxes?"
xxx
"My Lord," a portly, rat-like man said as he knelt down. The reverence and awe clear in his voice.
"Yes, Wormtail?" The tall, disfigured man responded in a bored and disgusted tone. His scarlet eyes were observing the landscape around them. He loathed the sight of the disgraced home of his father; yet he was forced to spend some time here until his most loyal servants were free from Azkaban.
"The plans for the breakout are ready, my Lord," the coward spoke in a shaken voice.
The scarlet eyes of the white skinned man fell on Wormtail and his expression openly showed his disgust. He hated the fact that the strongest Dark Lord in history needed to plan for a simple breakout from Azkaban. But there were many complications. The fact that Minister Fudge himself denied the truth of his return worked in his favour. He didn't need to reveal himself to the world publicly; at least not yet.
He hated to admit it, but the rat did his job properly.
Thankfully, the snake that slithered beside him was enough to send the rat running and spare him the displeasure of uttering positive words to Peter Pettigrew.
The reason Wormtail ran away from the snake being that Nagini often tried to take a bite of him, whilst he was in her presence. It was instinct, after all, for the snake to eat the rat.
"Soon, Nagini. Soon we will rise to power. It will be as if Potter never happened," said Voldemort as he absentmindedly stroked the snake's head in an awkward, unnatural manner.
With one last disgusted gaze around the living room of Riddle Manor, Voldemort disappeared with Nagini.