"Great Scott, Potter, This is War!"
Chapter Six - An Offer Vernon Can't Refuse

By Aaran St Vines

Previous Chapter One - "Defenseless Muggles" Chapter Two - Defenseless? Not Defenseless at All Chapter Three - The First of Three Visitors Chapter Four - Alastor Moody and Steph Granger Chapter Five - The Paladin Program Chapter Six - An Offer Vernon Can't Refuse Chapter Seven - Harry Potter: Spell Monger, Paladin, and Heir Chapter Eight - Aberration Day Interim Chapter Nine Chapter Ten - Sanctuary Chapter Eleven - Conversations and Confrontations Chapter Twelve - Time with Ginny and Thunderfire Chapter Thirteen - Harry Goes International Chapter Fourteen - Harry and the Wizengamot Chapter Fifteen - The Three-Thirty-Three Families Chapter Sixteen - Business and Pleasure Chapter Seventeen - Business Dinner or First Date Chapter Eighteen - There's Fighting and Then There's Fighting Chapter Nineteen - Coming to an Understanding Chapter Twenty - The Founding Mothers and Fathers Chapter Twenty-One - Peace In Our Time Chapter Twenty-Two - A Day That Will Live In Infamy! Next

 

My sincere gratitude goes to my beta readers, Ninkenate and Ozma.

 

Chapter Six - An Offer Vernon Can't Refuse

 

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Right after his "working lunch" with Professor Dumbledore in the library when Dumbledore explained the Paladin Program to him, Harry's mind traveled in all sorts of directions on a variety of subjects. He was most concerned about the pending visit between Dumbledore and his aunt and uncle that evening. He sat in that room for over ten minutes after Dumbledore had Disapparated out. He eventually heard a stir from another part of the house - it had to be the kitchen. The sounds were not cautionary or fearful, so Harry did not rush down there. His subconscious had him rise from his chair and carry the lunch tray downstairs. Even as he entered the kitchen, what he was doing and what was causing the commotion were far from his mind.

He walked in with the tray slowly and quietly, and no one noticed him until after he had placed it beside the sink and absent-mindedly began to wash the plates, goblets, and flatware.

"Harry, dear, let me do that," said Mrs. Weasley. The food debris disappeared from the items and they began to be washed by themselves. Harry released everything and turned - still concentrating on the Paladin Program and Dumbledore's impending visit with his aunt and uncle.

Ron bubbled, "Harry, mate, I got ten O.W.L.s, including O's in Defense, Theoretical and Practical. And Hermione got sixteen - all Outstandings!"

"Did you receive your O.W.L.s letter, Harry?" asked Hermione. It had not been delivered with theirs. Hermione was rightfully proud of her grades, but she had worked hard to help Harry and Ron succeed. Ron had done better than he had ever dreamed, and she sincerely hoped Harry had done well also, perhaps just a little more than she'd wished Ron well. She both was and was not surprised at herself for that thought, and that confused her a bit.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger were beaming. Though they had only the most rudimentary knowledge about Hogwarts' class subjects, they understood what their daughter's marks meant. Ron, Ginny, and Molly Weasley had blasted Hermione's attempts to downgrade her own accomplishments.

"Yeah," Harry spoke as if he were far away. "Dumbledore gave them to me. Good work, Ron, Hermione." His mind was still elsewhere. His aunt and uncle didn't want the slightest bit of magic happening in their house. How would they react when they learned Dumbledore wanted to turn his room into a potions laboratory, and more?

Unfortunately, Harry's distracted look and shaking head had been logically misinterpreted by all in the room to indicate that he'd not done well. Even the senior Grangers knew of his desire to be an Auror, and the O.W.L.s needed to qualify for him to go on to the N.E.W.T.s classes he'd need to reach that career path. Ron had discussed the fact that he, Ron, had not qualified to become an Auror because of Potions and Transfiguration. But he had admitted that he wasn't that upset because of this. He'd had weeks to come to grips with the fact that being an Auror was probably out of the question. He'd consoled himself that a position with the Magical Law Enforcement Department was still well within his grasp. However, Ron had hoped, and Hermione had seconded it, that Harry would qualify for the elite Auror Academy

Now, Harry looked so confused and in shock, that everyone assumed he had done poorly, possibly very poorly. They immediately started to change the subject and downplay the O.W.L.s' importance.

"O.W.L.s, N.E.W.T.s, who cares," Ron said. "Fred and George are doing quite well, thank you very much, with only three O.W.L.s. They'd love to have you with them."

Harry just nodded, thinking about Dudley and Dobby under the same roof for weeks at a time.

"Of course tests do not indicate mastery of a subject in many cases," said Hermione with genuine concern for her friend, she was nearly panicking with concern for Harry, "only the ability to repeat information under unnaturally stressful situations. But Practicals..."

"Yeah," said Harry, with real dread about the meeting between Dumbledore and his aunt and uncle at 8:00 that evening.

Mrs. Weasley said, "Harry, dear..." and then did not know what to else to say.

His face was pinched. Harry could not imagine his aunt allowing a house-elf cooking in her kitchen.

Ron barged across the room and took the folded parchment from his best friend's hand - it had to be his O.W.L.s letter. Ron opened it in a manner showing his contempt for the entire wizarding testing system, and began to read. His face crimped; his lips did not exactly move, but they quivered as he went down the list of grades. He used his finger to count down the page. Finally he exploded with a smile on his face.

"Harry! You've got twelve O.W.L.s! Six E's and four O's!" He paused for a fraction of a second as he looked back down. "And bloody Hel-"

"RON!' shouted Hermione, Mrs. Granger, and his mother in unison.

"Heliopaths! I wasn't going to-" Ron smirked but returned instantly to the parchment. "Harry, you got an Outstanding Plus on your Defense Practical!"

"Yeah, but-" Harry finally, slowly, entered the conversation everyone else was having.

Hermione moved to Ron in a flash and none too gently said, "Give me that," while snatching the letter from Ron's hand.

Her parents recognized this for what it was. Her mother said, "Honey, you've always said that Harry is far beyond anyone you've ever seen in Defense."

Hermione read the letter in a flash. She took a deep breath. She was so competitive on grades, and had never had to worry about her two best friends doing better than her. But now Harry had in one subject - his legendarily best subject - and she felt ashamed of herself instantly. She looked to her parents, then Molly Weasley and Ginny, and then seemed to make a decision. The teenaged boys were not noticing her reactions. This was Harry, the young man that she... She looked up at Harry and genuinely smiled. "I. AM. SOOO PROUD of you, Harry!" And she threw herself on his neck. After a few seconds she pulled back. She felt a bit of confusion. That hug had felt very good. She rushed to say, "Do you know there have only been two other Outstanding Pluses in the history of the current grading system? And it's been in place for over three hundred and fifty-nine years! That's a remarkable performance!"

She looked down at his grades again and frowned. "But, Harry, Potions. Maybe Professor Dumbledore...?"

By now Harry was fully engaged with his friends and their conversation. And he welcomed an opportunity to think about anything other than how good had been to hug Hermione. "Dumbledore already did, for a lot of people. He's going to have a special program this year, and anyone who is only one or two subjects off, and close, can make it up over the summer. "I'm in, and you can be too, Ron, if you want to. Obviously you can do anything you want, Hermione."

For the next twenty minutes he retold them all that he could remember about the Paladin Program.

 

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A Harry/Ginny Conversation - 2:34 PM, Later That Afternoon -

"I don't believe it. Knock me over with a snidget feather." Harry was peering through a bush. Ginny was beside him. They had found little damage to the park near number four, Privet Drive, and what little they did see showed the weathering of having been done long before. Big D and company must have found something else to occupy themselves so far this summer, Harry had speculated to Ginny minutes before.

After his "working lunch" with Dumbledore, and a visit with Molly, Ron and Ginny Weasley, and the three Grangers, Harry made his way back by secure Floo to Mrs. Figg's. Ginny came too so Harry could show her the park, as they had discussed before leaving Figg's at 10:00.

But the chief vandal they'd hoped to catch in action had another preoccupation this year.

The girl was tall and painfully thin in comparison to Dudley. But away from him, she was probably merely tall and slender. Harry saw them kissing and pulled the branch down so quickly, it scratched his face and pushed his glasses around.

Ginny said, "Even though he is my brother, I would have rather seen Ron and Hermione snogging... that was, was...unnatural."

Harry chuckled. "Gives all the world hope for love, doesn't it?"

They walked to a promontory in the park where there was a slight breeze. "Too bad we're under age. The cooling charm Remus and Moody placed on the tent didn't look too hard. I'd love to cast it around here."

"If it is the one Bill uses in Egypt, you have to have walls or barriers of some sort."

Harry noticed Ginny obviously steeling herself with a deep breath. She gushed out, "Harry, everyone wants you to talk about - you know... And if you ever want to talk to me, I'd be glad to listen. But I'm not asking you to."

When she'd first arrived to fetch Harry at Mrs. Figg's that morning, she'd been careful to keep the conversation light and almost frivolous, chatting about the humorous 'telly-phone' incident with her father, that she'd wanted Harry to enjoy. Harry realized that after he had been more his normal self with his friends, Ginny seemed able to discuss more serious matters. Fleetingly he wondered just how bad he'd been, considering her nervousness. Harry could tell Ginny had stopped talking in a way that said that she was not finished.

She went ahead, "Instead, I want to talk about something that's bothered me for the longest time... and still does, whenever I dream about it." Ginny shuddered.

"In my first year, I almost killed four people, five counting you, and it could have been more. It plays on my mind even now, from time to time. And I still dream about it - not like I dreamed that first year, or like you dream when You-Know-Who is attacking your sleep. But I'm still bothered badly by what could have happened."

Harry still didn't know what to say.

"I don't want to debate who's good and evil with you, Harry; that's not why I came here with you today. I just want you to know that I understand what it's like to be responsible, at least in part for some bad things happening, and I know how it feels to realize it could have been a whole lot worse."

"But, Ginny, Tom was possessing you. You weren't responsible when you released the basilisk-"

"No, I wasn't. I beat myself up on that point for a long time. But Sirius helped me understand that those actions weren't my fault. Before you came to Grimmauld Place last summer, he and I spend a lot of time together cleaning - just the two of us. He heard me shouting in my dreams about it one night when he'd walked past my door while heading towards his room. He made a point of spending time with me alone so he could winkle out of me the cause of my nightmares. He kidded me something terrible until I opened up and told him about it.

"My responsibility for what happened occurred when I kept writing in the diary after I realized what was going on. After Tom possessed me, it was too late to do anything about it. My guilt... I should have stopped writing before I reached that point. Do you think I am guilty for what happened to Justin, Colin, Penny, and Hermione?"

"No! Of course not! It was Riddle."

"That's what Sirius finally got me to see. He made me face it by making me convince him that he was not responsible for killing your parents."

"What! Voldemort killed them. If you can blame anyone else, it's Pettigrew-"

"Calm down, Harry." She had placed her cool hand on his arm, and he immediately quieted.

"Your father, mother, and Sirius made a decision to use Pettigrew rather than Sirius. It was a good decision. If Peter hadn't turned, and Voldemort had captured Sirius, your godfather would have never given up your parents because he couldn't have. Sirius would have died and Tom would have thought the secret died with him. Things would be oh so different. That was the decision that your parents and Sirius made, to make your godfather a target. Had he been killed would that have made your parents guilty of his death?"

Harry was stunned. He'd never thought of the consequences of the logical outcome of that decision.

"Your parents made a decision. Sirius made a decision. Peter made a decision. Voldemort made a decision. None of those decisions had happy endings coming to them, but only two of them were evil decisions, bad decisions.

"I made a decision to keep writing in the diary. I made a decision to steal it back after I had thrown it away and you found it. You see, I knew Riddle wanted you, and I tried to protect you. Two decisions. One was bad but fairly innocent. Can you blame me for the second decision, though?"

Harry said nothing but stared at his hands. He'd been doing a lot of that lately.

"You decided to stop Occlumency lessons, or at least not try to resume them when Snape ended them. You made a decision to go to the Ministry that night. It was good decision based on everything you knew. We made a decision to go with you. It was a good decision, one I'd make exactly the same way under similar circumstances. Ron and Hermione agree with me. I'd bet Luna and Neville feel likewise.

"Harry, in all of these decisions made by all of these people I mentioned, I feel I made the worst decisions of the lot, even though your parents' decisions had the most obviously terrible immediate consequences. You feel you've made the worst decisions. Everyone says that this is war. Wars are like this. I've been reading wizard and Muggle war diaries the last few weeks. They all say that war is a series of gut-wrenching decisions about terrible things, made without enough information, leading to yucky results under the best of conditions."

She stopped talking, swallowed and then finished, "I want to throw up thinking about this. I want to do worse when I think about the fact that we are entering a war, and we will soon be making more of the same type of nasty decisions with similar faulty information, leading to lose-lose results. But you'd be daft if you think I want out. And you've never been hexed like I'm going to hex you if you try to stop me."

Harry was speechless and Ginny's final words on the subject ended his need to say anything. She said, "We are here at Mrs. Figg's. I didn't tell you this to make you talk to me, you know. I told you this so you'll know that with me, you have someone who understands better than my brother and Hermione, what you have gone through and are still thinking. So if you reach the point where you want someone to talk with, I might prove more understanding than those two."

Ginny looked at her wristwatch. "You've only got six minutes to get back to your aunt's. Thanks for showing me Dudley, even if it was gross."

She walked up the steps without looking back.

"Ginny." Harry's word stopped her. Harry said, "You are a good friend. I'll want to talk about - it - soon, not quite yet though. Can we...?"

"Any time you want to, Harry."

"Thanks, Ginny. I want to get to know you better. I know Ron and Hermione will be... together... I need more really good friends. Now that the two of them... they'll want to be alone some, maybe a lot... and that's fine. But I want others... Ohhhh! This makes it sound all about me. I just don't want to be alone when... but I want to be with people when... That sounds pretty selfish, and mental, doesn't it?"

She looked at him and a smile broke across her face - it was a great smile, he thought. "If it does then the whole world is selfish, 'cause most people don't want to be alone from time to time. Maybe you're just being normal, Harry. That'd be a first, wouldn't it?"

 

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Marietta,

Before you yell at your mother, please read the rest of this letter.

Yes, she wrote me and asked that I send you a copy of the Patronus instructions, and allow you to continue in the DA this September, which we will continue this year with official school approval.

Let me be honest. I DID NOT like what you did last year when you informed on the DA.

Now that I have said that, let me also tell you that I understand why you did what you did. You were under extreme pressure from many sources and, well, not everyone is as hardheaded as I am.

Someone that I really admire recently told me that 'in war we have to make friends with our enemies so we can defeat the real enemy.'

You are not my enemy, but we are in a fight with a REAL enemy.

I hope you can understand the Patronus instructions and learn from them. I also hope you never have to put them into practice, but as everyone keeps telling me: 'This is War!' So I wish you well should the terrible occur.

As I said, your mother also asked that I let you back into the DA. If I was the only one that you hurt from the DA when you told, I would accept you back without comment, as long as you resubmit to a confidence agreement and commit to do your best. But you hurt more than me. Therefore, if you want to rejoin, you will have to ask permission of those that were members last year and are still at Hogwarts and join the DA this year. You'll also have to answer any questions that they have for you. Of that group I will require a three-quarters vote in favor for you to rejoin.

However, if you will talk to me first once we are back in school, and I believe your sincerity, I will speak on your behalf before you speak to them. And I'll make sure no one is mean to you.

That is all I can think of that would be fair to you and the other members of the DA.

Now, regarding your mother writing to me. You know my family's history. You may not know that I lost my godfather recently to Death Eaters. I would do most anything to have him, or my mother or father interfering in my life for my safety, regardless of how much I would dislike their interference.

Please remember that when you talk to her about this.

Keep well, Marietta,

Harry Potter

 

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The clock on the mantel at number four, Privet Drive, rang the first of eight chimes. Harry and his aunt and uncle were in the living room.

"Behind the couch, Petunia!" Vernon shoved Harry down near an end table. "Not a word, Boy!" He threw a book from the coffee table at the lamp in the corner; it was the last light on in the house. As that lamp fell over and the bulb flickered out, Vernon leapt, or at least waddled quickly behind the couch and joined his wife. As the fifth chime rang he shouted, "SSHHH!"

The sixth and seventh chimes rang.

Between the seventh and final chime, every light that had been turned off came on. Every broken lightbulb, including the lamp Vernon had broken a few seconds before, reassembled themselves and popped on.

Professor Dumbledore Apparated into the center of the room. The final chime of the mantel clock rang out.

Harry said, "I tried to tell you that a wizard doesn't ring the doorbell, and he conjures light whenever he needs it."

Dumbledore's eyes were fixed on his large pocket watch. It had twelve hands and none of them indicated 8:00 - AM or PM. It made three chimes in a quick and erratic pattern and the tall wizard with the long silver beard looked up and said, "Your clock is fast. Oh, have you lost something back there, Petunia, Vernon? May I help you find it?"

"Er! Umm. No! I found it." Vernon quickly took his pen out of his shirt pocket and held it up like he had just picked it up off the floor. "Thank you for your assistance, Petunia." He helped his wife up and then looked to Harry picking himself up off the floor. "Thank you also, Boy- uhm, Harry. Much obliged, er, Son. Good to see you again, Professor. Hee-hee." Vernon giggled nervously.

Harry had thought that his aunt and uncle had never seen Professor Dumbledore before, that they had only received his letter attached to Harry's baby basket, and the Howler from the previous summer. Also, he could not believe his uncle had just giggled!

Harry was standing in front of a chair. Vernon and Petunia were standing in front of the couch. Vernon finally said, "Won't you sit down, er, uhm...?"

There was no appropriate chair for the headmaster. Vernon looked around like a chair had run away somehow. The other chairs in the room were not that comfortable and would not allow for an easy conversation in their current positions. They were all arranged to watch the television now at Dumbledore's back.

The headmaster said, "Please allow me, Petunia, Vernon." In a blur of motion his wand was in his hand and twirling. Without looking, the elder wizard stepped one slightly longer than normal step forward, and sat down in the chair that had not been there fractions of a second before.

Vernon was goggle-eyed, but it was Harry's Aunt Petunia who was in a fright. She had very carefully chosen the most nondescript, sterilely white, perfectly normal furnishings for their entire house.

The chair Dumbledore had conjured out of thin air was hugely overstuffed. It settled, releasing air noisily for three full seconds after he had seated himself in it. It was garishly electric purple, and it had moving and glowing stars and moons on it.

Looking like Ron Weasley did when spiders were mentioned, Petunia said, in a very nervous voice, "Would you care for tea? I can-"

"Please allow me, Petunia, You spend so much time caring for Harry; I do not want to inconvenience you more." One flick of his wand and a muttered spell, and a gorgeous solid silver teacart and service rolled into the room in a position for Petunia to serve. The china was expensive, even Harry could tell. He thought it might be the exact style and pattern that his aunt had been dreaming over in a catalogue just the day before.

She stood and served the two men, then herself, and then, trying to act as if she always included him, she served Harry as well.

Dumbledore took a slightly noisy sip and said, "It is a special blend they serve at the Queen's summer home in Scotland. Her father insisted I have a lifetime's supply sent to me for services rendered during the war. Nothing magical to it at all, I assure you."

At the mention of the Queen and her father the King, Harry's aunt and uncle felt patriotically bound to taste it. Harry found himself drinking the best hot butterbeer he had ever tasted, and he looked with shock to see what his relatives might say. But they seemed very pleased. Dumbledore winked at him covertly.

"This is quite delicious," his aunt said with surprise. Vernon smacked his lips with appreciation and Petunia gave him the disapproving glance usually reserved for Harry.

There was the slightest 'thunk' sound in the kitchen and all but Dumbledore looked in that direction. He said, "There is a box of this tea on your kitchen counter. I would have put it away for you, but I know each mistress of the hearth has her own special philosophy of storage arrangement for dried goods." He took another sip.

Harry wondered if he was having, not the most dangerous or painful, but definitely the weirdest dream he had ever had. But he was pretty sure he was still awake.

Vernon very uncomfortably turned from the tea he obviously enjoyed, "Er, well, Professor, uhm, glad to see you again by the way- oh, already said that." Vernon then rushed to say, "The boy, delightful lad, Harry, said that, erm, you have an offer?"

"My offer, Vernon, Petunia, is to allow you to help save Harry's life, and perhaps save much of your world and ours as a part of saving his life." Both of his relatives' mouths dropped open. He smoothly continued. "He will be a key part of defeating the Dark forces aligning themselves, even as we speak, with the revitalized Lord Voldemort, the same evil wizard that killed your sister and brother-in-law, Petunia, as well as your parents."

A brisk slap would have not stunned Harry more. Her parents - his grandparents - had been killed by Voldemort?

The senior wizard continued, "That evil Dark lord is even now preparing to be much more active than ever before. The bombings at the Liverpool docks today, which will be attributed in the paper tomorrow as the work of terrorists, were in fact the work of despicable Muggles that Voldemort has recruited to his cause - how he has enlisted them, we do not know. Your nephew will be essential in this coming war. His importance cannot be overestimated. Therefore, his training to meet the challenge is of the gravest importance.

"To that end, I have developed and arranged for an extensive program to be implemented on his behalf this summer to prepare him for this battle or series of battles. It is in the execution of this program that we need your assistance."

Vernon looked like he had lost the facility of speech, but Aunt Petunia said, "How... how can we possibly help?" Her voice cracked.

"We need your permission and your tolerance. I cannot say we won't need some small assistances on occasions; there is always some overlooked trifle. But if all goes as planned there will be nothing for you to do. As I first explained to you long ago, Harry is protected by his mother's sacrifice as long as he spends a certain amount of time with you each year. The amount of time is less and less each year. He should be able to leave you this year just before his birthday, unless you insist he stay so you can give him a party." If there was any sarcasm in Dumbledore's words Harry, who knew him best of the three listening, could not detect it.

"Vernon, as head of this household we need your signature. We are guided by a series of laws in our world much as your laws guide you. One important law is that a minor cannot enter into a contract that such a program requires without your approval.

"None of your neighbors will know, indeed you will not be able to tell anything is different unless you go into Harry's room, but we need to enlarge it and make it a place where he can study, mix potions, and work on his defensive spells. It will have no adverse effect on your house at all. It's magic, you see." Dumbledore chuckled at his own joke and hurried on. "He will use the room to train physically and mentally.

"Also, Harry must partake in plenty of good old fashioned exercise on a variety of types of equipment. I hear your son, Dudley, is quite the boxer. He could join Harry in this exercise if you allow him. Harry also needs to spend time with various people that will tutor him, as well as with some of his friends on occasions to, uh, discuss certain course related matters. His room will, in practice though not in fact, be an extension of Hogwarts. He will have to take a special potion at least once a day, occasionally twice a day. Of course I will put all of the necessary protective barriers and sound-proofing spells on his room. You and your neighbors will not be able to hear or see any of this, unless you yourself choose to visit him there.

"In addition to all of this, which I am sure you see will be no imposition at all, Harry needs a very special diet that will be carefully regulated and monitored. Petunia, as delightful a cook as I am sure you are, to ask you to cook this for him, and only Harry can eat this food, would be too much of an imposition. Therefore to monitor Harry at all times, to prepare his food, and to assist him in many other ways, a house-elf, one very loyal to Harry, will live in Harry's expanded room. This house-elf takes up little space and you will not know he is here, unless, once again, you decide to visit Harry there.

"I would like you to meet him very briefly." Dumbledore snapped his fingers before Harry could open his mouth.

Dobby appeared. "Hello, Mr. Harry Potter's aunt and-"

Dumbledore snapped his finger again and Dobby disappeared before finishing his brief greetings.

"The offer, Petunia, Vernon, is to help save the world - literally. It will be no inconvenience to you. All we need is your signature, Vernon, and I will be on my way." As he finished this sentence, Dumbledore waved his wand in the air once again and a parchment unrolled on the coffee table right before Harry's uncle. A quill and inkwell appeared beside it. Dumbledore looked on expectantly. Harry was not sure when he'd last taken a breath.

Vernon was so still, he looked like he'd been Petrified. He looked straight ahead, staring right through Dumbledore, it appeared. The request to let all of these activities and magic take place in his home, hung in the air like a fresh dungbomb.

Petunia cut her eyes to her husband just in time to see the vein in his forehead turn purple while the rest of his face turned redder than a Weasley blush.

Finally Vernon unloaded. "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR RUDDY, WAND WAVING MIND!!!" The neighbors had to have heard that one.

Vernon sprang to his feet. Well, actually he grunted his way off of the couch much faster than usual. Once up, he raised his clenched fists and advanced on Dumbledore.

The elder wizard held one hand up in the air as if signaling for traffic to stop. There was no wand, no wandless magic, no threat - just the slightest perturbed look on his face. Vernon slowed.

"Vernon, do you think I am incapable of defending myself against physical violence?" Had he cast a Body Bind Spell on Harry's uncle, Vernon wouldn't have frozen in place any more completely. After several moments both men lowered their hands.

Vernon's somewhat-tactful act rose to the occasion. "All right then. There is no gratitude in any of you. We've given him a roof over his head, the food off our plates, and the clothes off of our backs. He's been nothing but an ungrateful, misbehaving pain in my backside. He's ruined any outing when we condescended to take him with us. He drove his cousin crazy, and almost got him eaten by a great snake at the zoo."

Vernon quickly gulped a breath and stormed on. "Do you know we had to have a pig's tail - a PIG'S TAIL - removed from our son because of that boy? He ruined my chances for closing a big deal with a client by exploding a violet pudding - a HUGE sodding messy violet pudding all over the kitchen. He blew up my sister - MY SISTER, mind you, and then had her mind obliterated."

"Obliviated," corrected Harry.

"NOT A WORD FROM YOU, BOY! No gratitude, not a farthing to help with his upkeep. If he's so BLOODY important couldn't you provide funds to help? Or does your world use fairy dust for coin of the realm? Then last summer those dementoids came here to Little Whinging - where's your almighty protection when my boy's having his brains sucked out?

"NO GRATITUDE. NO HELP. NO PROTECTION FOR US." Vernon screamed this last and stopped all at once, straightened his waistcoat, gathered what little dignity he could under the circumstances, and said, "So, you'll NOT have my permission to turn my home into a circus. He'll have to learn to pull rabbits out of his hat somewhere else. You can both leave right now!"

The headmaster had not moved, not even blinked, during the tirade. The slightest of smiles creased his eyes only, but there was none of his legendary twinkle there to be observed and no smile formed on his mouth.

The elderly professor remained silent and stared at Vernon. That was probably the most disconcerting thing he could do, thought Harry, because he felt uncomfortable in the extreme, and his uncle was squirming under the gaze in a matter of seconds.

"Vernon, Petunia. I told you after we came to our agreement, that you had our undying gratitude. You asked that we never contact you. But you knew it was Harry's parents' wish that he attend Hogwarts. So his Hogwarts letter was the only correspondence you received from us in all of those years.

"I must have your signature on that document. I cannot and will not force you. But I must have it. Won't you consider doing it to protect your nephew and to help him defend both your world as well as ours?"

"I don't believe you one bit on that!" snapped Vernon, his agitation rising again. "Your world doesn't touch ours. Just take him and go. He is no longer welcomed here. And I'm not signing anything! Still no offer for assistance. Make me a bleeding offer I can't refuse. The NERVE!"

Dumbledore sighed. "Vernon, I did not want to mention this. You have proven yourself most capable, and my associates are pleased, truly, in spite of your abrasiveness."

"What the-" sputtered Vernon.

Dumbledore turned to Harry's aunt who sat on the other end of the settee from where her husband had been. "Petunia, would you bring the telephone in here, please?"

She hesitated, but the hostess in her stood. "Of course."

"What's the matter?" spat Vernon, "Can't send up smoke signals any more? Or are the ruddy owls on strike? Use my blower, would you? Well, it better not be long distance!"

As Harry's aunt came back into the room with the portable phone set, she held it out to Dumbledore, but he said, "No, it's for Vernon."

Right after those words, the phone rang, and Petunia bobbled it before steadying the receiver and answering.

"Dursley residence. Lady of the house speaking." She paused and said, "One moment, please." Handing the receiver to her husband, she said, "It's for you."

Dumbledore drew his wand and circled it silently as Vernon took the receiver and snapped, "What do you want at this time of night?"

The professor's charm allowed all in the room to hear both sides of the conversation.

"Dursley, this is Gladden Boothby, Chairman Boothby at Grunnings. I see your abrasive demeanor with most at work extends to your home telephone manners."

"OH! Uh, no, sir. That is, sir, I was, er, expecting someone else, yes, someone else entirely, sir."

"That's the Dursley I know." He cleared his throat. "Dursley, Dumbledore asked me to call you. I wanted to tell you that I am glad we finally discovered your worth, supporting our clients. I only hired you because he asked me to, before you took in young Potter."

"You know about Dum-... and Har-...?"

"Dursley, you'll find no one plans farther ahead that Professor Dumbledore. He insisted I hire you, and he insisted I keep you and give you the Hoopers Construction account. I owe him even though my line of the family tree is not magical. My great-great-aunt, Gladys Boothby, created the Moontrimmer broomstick, the foundation of the Boothby Family Trust fortune. Dumbledore's investment in her small broom shop a hundred years ago allowed her to perform the development work.

"Back to you. Now don't misunderstand me, your ideas and systems for customer support are brilliant, but you are nearly too difficult to tolerate. So thank Dumbledore for sending you to me. And thank him for talking me into keeping you."

Boothby rang off without a goodbye.

Vernon pressed the button to break the connection. Before he could say a word, it rang again, and reflexively, he answered it.

"Dursley residence."

"Charles Hooper here, Dursley."

"Mr. Hooper, what a pleasant surprise, I-"

"That's all right, Dursley. I called to thank you for becoming so brilliant at supporting us. I would have given you the business anyway, Dumbledore arranged it. But your support abilities and systems make it worthwhile. Good drills, too. Hoopers Construction has benefited by dealing with you.

"Of course when I heard you had taken in the Potter baby, I knew I wanted to give you the business - just to help you with the burden. My nephew, Geoffrey Hooper, is in Gryffindor House with your nephew Harry - two years behind him - thinks the world of young Harry. I'm honored to do my part to help you. Good night."

In just two seconds there was another ring. Vernon answered and barely muttered, "Dursley's."

"Roger Lufkin here at Lufkin Machinery. Just wanted you to know I am truly pleased with your efforts on our behalf of Lufkin Machinery. I thought for a while that I was just giving you our drill purchases because Dumbledore asked me to. Glad you're so brilliant at support, you're a bit of a toady, but you do take good care of us. Makes it worth doing business with you.

"I'm a Squib, a non-magical member of a wizarding family. My distant great-grandmother by nine greats was the first woman, that is witch, Minister of Magic, Artemesia Lufkin. Only Albus Dumbledore could make me contract with you after that disgusting attempt to deny your nephew his Hogwarts letter. Can't tell you what I would have given for one.

"See here. Your nephew's Harry Potter, you should be proud."

"Click"

"Ring-Ring."

Vernon didn't notice that he hadn't needed to ring off. He pressed the button to answer and said nothing.

"Don't speak, Dursley. This is Tilden Ryan. My cousin is Barry Ryan, Keeper for the Irish National Side in Quidditch. That's a wizard sport and I understand that your nephew is a fine Seeker.

"Harry is why I'm calling. I do expect you to do whatever Dumbledore wants. Good God, man. He's Harry Potter; don't you know how important he is to the whole world?

"On Dumbledore's word alone I'd have made sure the Ryan Company did business with you, but Charles Hooper and Roger Lufkin have both told me just how well you look out for them, even though you are a bit of a pillock to deal with. But I'd do anything Dumbledore asks. See you tomorrow, Dursley. Bring the same quill you use to sign whatever Dumbledore wants you to sign. We'll ink the contract with it."

The connection ended.

The parchment was signed.

The headmaster said, "I thank you for your hospitality, Petunia. If you like the furniture, ring this bell quickly, twice, and it will be yours permanently. If you ring it in one long ring for over five seconds it will disappear. Vernon, you have made the right decision. I am sorry I had to make you an offer you couldn't refuse. I promise it is for the greater good of your world as well as ours. I'll see you the day after tomorrow at 9:00, Harry, and we will begin remaking your room for your use this summer. That will allow you, Vernon, to sign all of the contracts with Tilden Ryan and be sure that I have provided adequate compensation for your slight inconvenience of the next few weeks."

With that he Disapparated from the room.

Vernon stood stiffly. He reached onto the table and took hold of the bell. He turned his head to give Harry a snide look and viciously rang the bell as hard as he could for five seconds.

The bell disappeared from his hand. The purple chair disappeared.

The beautiful expensive teacart, tea service, and exquisite crystal cups and saucers disappeared also.

Petunia screamed, "VERNON!"

 

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Dear Harry,

I am sure you do not remember me; we have had Herbology together, but we've always been at opposite ends of the greenhouse. I'm in Hufflepuff and I received help during last school year from Susan Bones, Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbott, and Justin Finch- Fletchley in my Defense studies. I scored really well on my O.W.L.s in that subject, and considering our DADA instructor last year, I know I owe my good Defense grades to them and to you.

Neville Longbottom lives near me, and we have been friends since before Hogwarts. He and your friend Luna Lovegood have offered to help me with my Defense work over the summer. Neville has a training area out in back of his garden shed in an old storage building, and the two of them are letting me train with them. This new Paladin Program is wonderful. Luna's dad got her permission to use magic this summer, but only at Neville's.

The reason I am writing is to ask for a small favor. Neville and Luna showed me the instruction letter you wrote on producing a Corporeal Patronus. It was brilliant!

I was too fearful to join the DA, but I was hoping you would include me in on any other letters you send out on Defense. There're a lot of things I know you can teach me. Neville told me about your battle that night at the Department of Mysteries. He told me, as did Luna, of your skills and bravery, and I know we could all benefit from anything you want to write on this subject. I promise to study faithfully and learn as best I can. And if you have the DA next year, if it is all right, I'd like to join, if you'd have me.

One other thing. Neville told me how fearless and powerful you were that night facing fully grown Death Eaters, but Neville refuses to tell me, or let Luna tell me, of his bravery. I would appreciate any information you could give me about him. Nev has been a very good friend over the years, and I am proud of him.

Yours most sincerely,

Eloise Midgen

___________________

Dear Eloise,

Of course I remember you from Herbology. We were never near each other, like you said, so we were never partners, but I do remember you.

I had not thought about writing any more letters on Defense subjects, but you are the ninth person to write to ask me to. So, I'll think about it.

Definitely, if I write any more such letters, I will make sure that you are included on the receiving list.

The DA will be an official organization at Hogwarts next year and all will be invited to join, if they are third year or higher. Please join us and invite others from your house. Hufflepuffs make fine members.

As to Neville - He is the most underrated student at Hogwarts. He still doesn't understand how he was sorted into Gryffindor. Now, I don't see how he could have been placed in any other house.

Everyone that fought with me that night did a great job of battling the Death Eaters, but I probably fought along side Neville the most, and at the most desperate part of the fighting. He fought hard and he fought well. He was hit by a Cruciatus Curse and survived it. He battled beyond what most could endure.

But the bravest thing I have ever seen, he did that night. His wand was snapped and his nose broken. He couldn't speak well enough with that broken nose to pronounce any spell or charm with a borrowed wand.

At this point I begged him to go to safety. He was completely defenseless in a place where it was a miracle that we were still standing.

Neville refused to leave me. He even tackled a Death Eater when there was nothing else he could do.

That action, while unable to perform magic, staying with me and fighting on - that was the bravest thing I have ever seen.

Eloise, I have made so many mistakes I wonder why anyone would think my opinion counts, but you can tell anyone that I am proud and grateful that Neville Longbottom was there with me that night. I'm probably alive today because Neville fought by my side.

Your classmate,

Harry

_____________________

Dear Harry,

How are you doing? It has been only a few days since I wrote you last, but it seems like a month or more, so much has happened. Have you been looking in Gryffindor like I told you?

I am writing to thank you for the instructional letter on the Patronus Charm. I let my father read it and he was most impressed. He did rather well in DADA, and he said that your writing on Defense is the clearest and most practical he has ever seen.

He laughed out loud comparing it with the terrible words of advice the Daily Prophet printed from the Ministry of Magic. Then he stopped right there in mid laugh and stared at the wall for a minute or more. (This happens when he is getting his best ideas.)

He asked me to ask you if he could reprint the instructions in the Quibbler as a public service to the community. We've had these three dementor attacks, and if any more happen then your letter might mean the difference between - well, you know better than I do what the difference could mean.

He remembers all of the wonderful owls he received from those who believed your story this past spring. He believes those people would be very grateful for any help you could give them.

Your friend,

Luna

 

______________________________________________

 

Vernon Dursley was out of the house over an hour and a half earlier than usual. He always ate breakfast at home, unless he was out on an overnight trip for business, which was a rare occasion indeed.

But Dumbledore had promised to arrive at 9:00 this very morning - that caused his early exodus. Forget that Dumbledore Apparated in to the salon and had corrected their mantel clock, Vernon thought he might arrive early, over two and a half hours early.

"Boy! Is there any doubt in your mind that I will find a way to make your life hellacious if my home is ruined in any way - my wife or son hurt - my property values or standing in the community disparaged? HUMMM, Boy?"

Vernon had marched in to what he still referred to as Dudley's second bedroom and had violently shaken Harry awake for this tirade.

Harry noticed Petunia was standing there in the hallway, looking cautiously around the doorframe to see her husband in action. She was not there when Vernon stormed out, stomped down the stairs, and slammed the front door shut behind him. Dudley could be heard snoring through it all.

The house quieted to the snoring only. Harry heard the mantel clock's gentle tic-toc. There was the slightest possible sound of bed springs coming from his aunt's bedroom, and then Harry realized his door had been left open by his uncle - a never before event. He was too jaded by what little had passed for kindness from Dursley senior in the past to think there was any significance to this act. But life was different this morning.

And there was one resolution Harry had made to himself since two nights before: he would never tell his relations that it had been Dobby who had dropped the violet pudding in the kitchen four summers before.

An hour later Harry was preparing breakfast as usual, just not as much, which was unusual.

Harry had finished the rashers of bacon and had whisked the eggs before placing them in the pan for cooking. He was actually preparing breakfast earlier this morning because he had never really gone back to sleep. He heard his relatives' normal morning sounds and knew it would be about twenty minutes before they would be down. He had enjoyed omelets at Hogwarts and decided to make them this morning. This was to be the last morning he would eat with his aunt and cousin, this summer at least. He decided to try his hand at it.

He let the bacon crisp just a little more before placing it on a kitchen towel to absorb the drippings. Harry quickly cut up an onion and a green pepper, and put them in a little bit of the bacon grease in the non-stick pan. Harry blessed the day his aunt Petunia had purchased the non-stick cookware. Washing up was so much easier now.

While the vegetables sauteed, he grated some sharp cheddar. He made the usual toast and laid out the table with marmalade, butter, and cream and sugar for the tea.

His aunt appeared a few minutes later. "Harry?" She sniffed the air, but he could not tell by the look on her face if his divergence from routine would be acceptable or not.

Harry had the oven on, and made each omelet to order. He and his aunt shared one five-egg omelet with four rashers of bacon and a third of the sauteed vegetables inserted in the middle.

Dudley's omelet contained six eggs, six rashers, and two-thirds of the vegetables. Harry had divvied the grated cheese in equivalent proportions.

He served his aunt and cousin and had his plate there seconds afterwards. Dudley was stunned for a while, but not long.

"MUM! This is not my normal breakfast, where's my bacon?"

"It's all there," Harry said, "Six rashers - inside the omelet."

"Omelet? Isn't that what Dad calls 'nancy-boy food'?"

"No, that's quiche," said Petunia. "This is excellent, Harry. Didn't saute the onions or peppers too long. Most restaurants do."

"But, MUM! I want to see my bacon."

"Does your girlfriend know you cry at the table, Dudley?" Harry tried to be so casual while dropping this tidbit of information.

"Popkins? A girlfriend?" Aunt Petunia queried.

Dudley began wolfing down his food, talking about being in a hurry while he did. He belched and stopped long enough to grab half of the stack of toast as he ran back upstairs.

Harry's aunt looked both amused and curious, but said nothing. After Dudley had left Harry told her, "I saw him in the park kissing a girl. She seemed to be enjoying it. I know he was. I didn't look for long though."

"Are you safe in the park, Harry?" Once again his aunt surprised Harry with her never-seen-before-this-summer concern for him.

"There are minders, not the ones that watch little children, but trained wizards and witches who can remain invisible - they follow along and watch over me. I just call them minders. There's one watching over me around the clock. They've followed me there and have never said I'm in danger. Believe me, they would've stopped me if I weren't safe."

She smiled and they kept eating in surprisingly comfortable silence.

"Harry," she spoke quietly, and with a quality that Harry could not quite fathom. He knew that as a guy, he was not the most sensitive creature, but years of monitoring the moods of his aunt and uncle had made him attentive to her many subtleties - but this was a different tone of voice for her. "I have promised your uncle that I will not mention your grandparents, my parents, so please don't ask. There are reasons, but- well, I don't like you not knowing, but... next summer, with these events about to unfold... perhaps he will allow me to tell you for your seventeenth birthday. You'll leave after that and we'll never see you again, I assume."

She sniffed, but it was not a tear, it was her Woman-Who-Never-Missed-A-False-Smell sniff, but still. Then she looked up with a very harsh look on her face and Harry wondered what he had done now. "Make me two promises. Since this is war, keep yourself safe, so you can do what you have to do. I don't want Dumbledore to be right about this spilling over into our world, but...

"Second," she'd looked terrified for just a moment. "Kill him. Destroy the monster that.... If you are the one, then train well and hard and leave your uncle and cousin to me. Don't make it any harder on me than you can't possibly avoid, but kill that monster, to avenge... and... for my Dudley."

In one swift motion she stood and walked upstairs to her room. She walked away and never mentioned anything about the subject again that summer. She never treated him harshly, but she never came that close to an intimate conversation again.

However, Petunia did have tea fixed for Dumbledore when he arrived. It was the Queen's tea that Dumbledore had given her, Harry felt sure, if smell was any indicator.

They were in the lounge when Dumbledore Apparated into the exact place he'd been two nights before. He looked around and noticed the garish purple chair was missing. He called one of the ladder back chairs already in the room to himself, and greeted Harry and Petunia warmly before accepting the tea and sitting.

"I want you to know, Petunia, that I have, and will continue to take all precautions to keep your nephew safe here, and you and your family as well. Not only safe, but safe from intruding eyes and ears. I no more want Harry's presence or his activities as a wizard known to your neighbors, than you or Vernon do.

"Two nights ago, while it was dark, but before I left your property, I popped into your back garden and made all of the external preparations for what we will do to your house. When Harry is finished here this summer, everything will return to normal, and his protection provided by his mother will exist for another year.

"Rest assured, outside and inside there will be a complete sound dampening barrier and Disillusionments to make invisible any possible awareness of what goes on in his room. He will do nothing so dangerous, but if Harry were to blow up his room, no one outside of his room would see or hear a thing."

Dumbledore saw her worried facial expression. "Please, dear lady, rest assured, I have reviewed Harry's curriculum of Potions activities and no great explosions can occur. Small, quiet explosions that should happen, will only occur as a part of normal potions mixing, and they will be controlled."

"Professor," she asked hesitantly, "how, I mean I know it's magic, but how can you enlarge Harry's room and not have it go out somewhere that can be seen?"

"My dear, Petunia. You know that gravity exists, and it is a constant on this planet. Yet the Law of Gravity is not repealed when the Laws of Lift and Aerodynamics supercede the Law of Gravity. Because of these two superceding laws, an aeroplane can fly, or a bumblebee for that matter. Although I understand your scientists are still not sure how a bumblebee can fly. But I wander.

"Just like one law of physics can supercede another, magic works with all of physics, chemistry, and all other sciences - it just has ways to supercede or overcome the limitations. Two hundred years ago today's passenger jet would have been considered magic. Real magic is not what has been discovered by science. A broom uses neither aerodynamics nor lift in any way to fly, it uses magic. Magic overcomes like lift overcomes.

"Magic has its own limitations. I cannot fly, but I can fly on a broom, which has a series of spells and charms applied to it. However, I cannot apply those spells to myself. But the capabilities - what might be called the technology of magic - are improving also. Just as the aeroplane was invented in 1903, the modern racing broom was created in 1901. Yet, Harry's broom, one of the finest ever made, is nearly five times faster in acceleration than that original racing broom, and more than twice as fast in overall speed.

"So, I will enlarge Harry's room four to five times, without impacting the shape or size of your house. I couldn't make it the size of Buckingham Palace, but four to five times bigger will be little more than a common effort."

"All right," she said

Petunia was a bit more curious, Harry thought, but the lifetime habit of not wanting to know anything about magic could not be completely broken in one day.

She continued, "Ah, professor, exactly what are you going to do to Harry himself?"

"Petunia, and may I say I am glad you are using the Queen's tea - it's delicious. Petunia, between the age of fifteen and seventeen a witch or wizard does an amazing amount of growing in many ways."

Dumbledore explained everything she needed to know about all of the changes Harry would go through, what he would be doing in his room while he remained with her this summer.

She listened carefully, and as Dumbledore appeared to be ending, she asked, "How may I help?" Then she went on to clarify. "There is really little I can do, but I am willing to do what I can. That little, er, green...man?"

"Ah, Dobby, How could I forget Dobby," he chuckled to himself. "Without going into too much unnecessary detail, Harry and Dobby are old friends. You see, Harry set Dobby free from a form of enslavement." He briefly explained why Dobby needed to be set free, but not how Harry had accomplished it, only that it was one more thing to admire about Harry.

"There must be precise timing when Harry takes his potions, eats his special meals, and when he must perform certain exercises. Harry's schedule has very little room for error. House-elves have amazing senses of timing. Dobby will not only be able to manage Harry's schedule, he will be able to prepare the special foods Harry needs. Oh, please let me allay your fears, Dobby will cook these meals in a kitchen in Harry's room. Use of your kitchen will not be required.

"Dobby will be able to provide almost every assistance Harry will need, but we will need you to allow Dobby to come and go from outside of Harry's room. Dobby can Apparate much like I do into and out of your home, but the protective barriers that keep in sound and the indication of magic, will prevent Dispparation."

Dumbledore leaned back and spoke as if calling from another room while snapping his fingers, "Dobby!"

The house-elf appeared and Petunia gave a start. Dobby was dressed in a small black smock and short-breeches set, but he wore two very different, outlandish socks with no shoes or sandals. Dobby bowed to the point where he nearly touched his long pointed nose to the rug, and rose up to speak, "Mrs. Harry Potter Sir's Aunt, 'tis an honor for Dobby to be allowed to serve the great and powerful Harry Potter Sir, in your home. If Dobby may be of any service to Harry Potter Sir's aunt, or Harry Potter Sir's family..." Dobby trailed off, the offer clearly stated, "just call Dobby's name." He bowed again.

Petunia Dursley was obviously trying hard to maintain her balanced demeanor, but she was most discomfited by what stood before her. All she managed to say was, "Er, yes."

Dobby walked to Harry's chair and stood behind and to the side of him, away from her line of sight. In a moment he quietly snapped his finger and Disapparated away.

"I have informed Dobby," continued the professor, "that if he must, he is to speak only to you and only when you are alone, unless it is a dire emergency. He understands he is to be as unobtrusive as possible. I believe I used the words 'never seen or heard,' in my explanation.

"Finally, Petunia, I failed to mention last night, and it is not specifically in the Permission Release Vernon signed, but as you might imagine, with Harry's physical growth, there will also come an emotional interest in the fairer sex."

Harry's aunt looked most uncomfortable, then blushed - then her face produced a ruefully red-faced smile. She looked Harry's way. This caused an instant blush on his face, which caused his aunt to snort into several moments of laughter.

Harry's headmaster and aunt then fully discussed the female visitors Harry would need to spend time on four or five occasions a week, and why.

She agreed to help chaperone the first few minutes of each visit if need be, if she were present. "Professor, unless there is no alternative, I would prefer Harry to not have, er, company on the weekends when his uncle is home. If I have any other leeway, I would also prefer his cousin, Dudley, not be present. My son will be lifting weights for his boxing team, on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons. He will also be working in his father's office on Tuesday, all day. Would that be a workable schedule? Can other arrangements...?"

"That would be a great help, Petunia, thank you." Turning to Harry he said, "Does she know about your contacts near here?"

Harry said, "She knows about my minder but not about..."

Dumbledore turned back to her. "Do you know what a Squib is, Petunia?"

"The short, humorous newspaper articles?" she asked. Petunia had been in near shock during the visit with Dumbledore two evenings before. She'd forgotten the brief definition of a Squib given by Roger Lufkin.

Dumbledore chuckled. "In our world you might say that a Squib is the opposite of your sister. Lily was the uncommon magical member of a non-magical family and lineage. A Squib is a non-magical member of a decidedly magical family. Squibs cannot perform magic as we know it, but they can be very sensitive to it. Your neighbor, Arabella Figg, is a Squib from a very distinguished family. Though basically powerless, she has been most useful to us by watching Harry over all of these years and providing a home were we can access the Floo Network for transportation purposes." He explained briefly how the Floo Network operated.

"Arthur Weasley still expresses his apologies to you for the events of two summers ago when he and his sons came to your house by way of your fireplace."

Petunia rushed, "You don't want to open up-"

Dumbledore raised his hand. "We will not do that to you again. But Arabella Figg has been on the Floo Network for roughly a year, and we now have a secure method of Floo travel that goes undetected. Arabella permits her home to be used for other purposes, and we can allow the visits Harry has with the young ladies to take place there on weekends and Thursdays, and any other time if is inconvenient for you. But having multiple locations will help with certain other factors as well.

"You have been most kind this summer allowing Harry to come and go when he needs to. Starting this afternoon, after his first potion in this acceleration program, you must make sure Harry can leave here whenever he asks, regardless of what is going on at the moment, or whoever might be present."

The professor finished his tea. His hostess asked if he would like more and he responded, "No, thank you very much. We must begin on Harry's room. It will be noisy for a short time. No one outside will hear our efforts. But there will be noise inside your house until we can engage the internal sound barriers. It will not be painfully loud in here, but if you and Dudley would like to...'

"I will take him with me shopping."

Before she could stand, Dumbledore asked, "The decision to not accept the furniture I offered, it was Vernon's?"

A little embarrassed, she merely nodded her head up and down in one short movement.

The elder wizard drew his wand quickly, circled it in the air wordlessly, and an identical teacart, service, and china set materialized in the room.

"Thank you, Professor," she said with genuine gratitude and delight in her eyes.

"No, thank you, Petunia. Now I believe Vernon will be able to buy you something else to celebrate signing the contract yesterday with Tilden Ryan."

This time her eyes twinkled. "Thank you again, Professor."

 

______________________________________________

 

After Harry's aunt and cousin left to purchase a new computer for Dudley, Professor Dumbledore walked with Harry up the stairs to his room. It had been a surprise to Harry that Dudley was able to use a computer at all. It looked fairly complex in Harry's estimation. Of course he had never been allowed to use any of the numerous computers Dudley had owned and eventually punched, kicked, knocked over, or in any other creative manner destroyed. Destruction seemed to be Dudley's only creative gift.

Dudley would get frustrated with whatever 'Windows' was. Whenever he was playing a game - Dudley liked the games where people and things were shot, killed and blown up - Dudders seemed to have enough patience to play the game until he had enough skill to enjoy it. When a particular game ended, even if he did not achieve the goal or 'next level,' Dudley would only heave a sigh, slap his knee in frustration, and start a new or different game. But when he was working with the computer system itself, which was apparently to Harry, the 'Windows' part, Dudley would become annoyed, irritated, frustrated, angered, enraged, distraught, murderous, and finally destructive.

Uncle Vernon worked with computers at Grunnings and had admitted that he'd hit his computer a few times when first learning to use it. He usually set up a simple system for Dudley to start his games without spending much or any time with the computer system at all. Once that occurred, the particular computer lived much longer in Dudley's service.

Recently something new came out, something called 'Windows 95", or was it 96? Anyway, Dudley had to have it. Now that the Ryan contract for Uncle Vernon and Grunnings had been assured by Dumbledore, Petunia used the purchase of the new computer as a reason to lure Dudley out of the house for the rest of the morning and into the afternoon. The elder wizard had assured her the work on Harry's room would be completed, and Harry fed lunch, by 1:30 at the latest.

About halfway up the stairs it struck Harry that he didn't want the headmaster to see how pathetic his room was. It had been Dudley's second bedroom until five summers ago and half of it was still a repository for his cousin's broken and discarded possessions. Dudley's debris was stacked with some order on one side of the room, but it was still a clutter. Harry had been embarrassed when Tonks had briefly been in his room the previous summer helping him pack his trunk, but she had been a stranger at that moment, so he hadn't really cared that much - plus, at that time there had been the crush of time that had lessened his concern.

But this was Professor Dumbledore, the one whose approval meant the most to Harry. He knew he had made his bed, and straightened his room - his aunt and uncle had insisted he always do that when he left it each time, and his uncle had boxed his ears enough times over the years to make that effort an ingrained habit.

Harry had an old rickety single bed with only a sheet and thin blanket - no duvet, or even old eiderdown for covering. His small children's dresser had a missing front leg and was held up by old copies of his uncle's business magazines. Harry's desk had been one that Dudley had broken the drawers out of when they were eight. It was too small for Harry to sit at properly. That fact would be obvious when Dumbledore noticed everything on the desk had been arranged to be used by someone sitting parallel to the desk and leaning in and over it.

It was to Harry's relatives' shame that any disparagement should fall on his living conditions, but they were his family, or at least the only blood relations he had. In typical fashion of one under these conditions, particularly a teenager, Harry felt the blame or embarrassment was all his.

Walking up the stairs, as Harry slowed with each step and finally paused too long at the top. Dumbledore quietly said, "It will be all right, Harry."

And when Harry opened the door, it was all right, at least regarding the things in the room were concerned, because the only thing in the room was Dobby. Every item of Dudley's junk pile was gone. All of the furniture and every single possession of Harry's were gone. Even the spider web on the ceiling and the thin rug were gone.

"Harry Potter Sir's belongings is safe for the work at hand. Dobby is sorted out all of Harry Potter Sir's possessions, and the rest is...is where it should be." Dobby's green tennis ball-sized eyes batted with pleasure and a bit of relief, Harry thought.

"Thank you, Dobby," said Dumbledore. "Now, Harry, house-elves are very good at everything having to do with a house. Dobby could produce all of the changes needed and he will tweak and fine tune the room in any manner you choose. But because of the protective wards and additional sound dampening and such you will require, I must enlarge your room.

"You are familiar with the Engorgement Spells your friends Fred and George Weasley use with their Ton-Tongue Taffy. Well that won't work here, and why do you think that is?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders like he often did in classes when a question out of the blue was asked him. But them he said, "No. Wait. Is it... is it because there is really nothing we are enlarging, really? We can't make the air in here bigger, and if we make the boards in the wall bigger we would have to go outside the walls of the house, and you said that we wouldn't do that."

"Right in one, Harry."

Harry believed Dumbledore smiled at his command of a common expression used by his students.

"We do not enlarge the room. We enlarge the space in the room. Actually we do the opposite of that in all ways."

Harry looked at his mentor with confusion.

" If you remember, Harry, when Mr. Ollivander told you of the start of magic as we know it here in Great Britain, his ancestor had to learn Latin. At least half of all our spells, charms, hexes, jinxes, and even curses use Latin as a basis for their expression, and a number of the rest of the spell words have Latin as a part of their roots.   The rest come from languages as ancient as Greek, Persian, and Aramaic, from words as obscure as modern day Hawaiian, and from many other sources. Understanding these origins is no more essential to use magic than understanding everyday word origins is necessary to communicate with each other. However, after coming to that realization while I helped Mr. Ollivander with his inventory these many years ago, it caused in me a lifelong fascination with the linguistics of magic."

The headmaster chuckled. "I know most today find Latin a truly dead language, and the study of the classic languages are not nearly as common as in my school years, but you will find the distinctions fascinating in your Defense Against the Dark Arts class of all things, this year. But I won't spoil the surprise of that right now.

"However, your perceptiveness about not engorging or enlarging your room causes me to want to point out the linguistics of the spell we will use. Since your room is not large enough in any direction - we need it to be wider, longer, and have a higher ceiling - we can say your room is 'too small in all directions.' Or we might also say it is 'too narrow in all directions.' So, rather than saying we want to increase or enlarge your room, we might express it, oddly I admit, that we want to 'decrease the different directions of narrowness of your room.' We do not have a plural for 'narrowness' in English, but in Latin, the word for multiple narrows or 'narrowness-ess' is angustiarum. We also use the Latin for 'decrease,' which is 'decrescere,' actually 'to grow down.'

"So the spell, Angustiarum Decrescere, literally decreases the narrowness-ess in all directions rather than enlarge the room - two negatives in mathematics makes a positive. It is actually one of the many integral spells activated when you access the Room of Requirement. We will also use some of the other spells and charms used by the Room of Requirement to make your room what we need it to be. Your personal living space - your bed, dresser, desk, table, et cetera - will remain constant in this room and off to the side. You will step outside of your room, request your potions laboratory twice, and open your room to find everything you need to catch up and even get ahead in your potions studies. In like manner you will leave your room, request your physical fitness and Defense training room twice, and open up on a room configured much like the Room of Requirement' layout during your DA sessions, with a few distinctive refinements you may want to add to your DA room this school year. This is also how you will access your research library and your own kitchen and eating room where Dobby will prepare your meals.

"Dobby will not be preparing your potions, that will be done at Hogwarts under Professor Snape's supervision." Rushing on so Harry could not say anything, Dumbledore said, "He will be supervising several witches and wizards in controlling this huge undertaking. Were he not available and willing, I would have never considered the Paladin Program as it exists."

Harry remembered that even Sirius admitted that Snape was brilliant at potions. Remus had trusted him with the Wolfsbane Potion to ease his unavoidable monthly transformations, and that potion was said to be very complicated.

Harry nodded his understanding and the three of them proceeded to recreate his room into every room he would need. They filled each with all of the required furniture and items Professor Dumbledore stated to be necessary. However, they started by designing Harry's personal space as he wanted it to be when it was just his room for sleeping and regular studying. That space would only be a little bigger than his present room size.

Harry had never thought about how he would like his own room to look, so they recreated the dorm room he had lived in for five school years, only changing it for one occupant. A subtler version of the strong Gryffindor red and gold was used so his aunt Petunia would not be offended by the striking color scheme.

As a Potions Lab, his room was dark and lit only by torches. The amount of light present affected some of the more complex mixtures. As a physical training and Defense training room, it resembled the Room of Requirement configured for the DA, cross-pollinated with a martial arts dojo Harry had seen in a movie his uncle Vernon and cousin Dudley had watched once. Harry would refer to it as "the dojo," and it was light and airy with sunlight streaming in, not uncomfortably, from all sides.

The library was about one sixth the size of the Hogwarts library, but it had copies of all of the books Madam Pince thought he might need, and a copy of every book on Defense.

As a kitchen, his room was much like a smaller version of the kitchen and eating table at Hogwarts, which he had surreptitiously visited the previous two years. Harry was sure this design was to make Dobby feel more comfortable.

They'd finished their work on his room at 11: 40 and Harry asked Dumbledore what he wanted to cook for lunch. The headmaster replied that since it was Harry's last day to choose himself, he should make that decision.

Harry looked at Dumbledore and said, "Will there be hamburgers, and chips on this new diet?" When Harry saw his mentor shake his head negatively he said, "Well, if no one minds, what say we all have that? You'll join us, of course, won't you, Dobby?"

Dumbledore nodded and licked his lips as to the food selection, but Dobby said, "As Harry Potter Sir's house-elf, Dobby mustn't eat with Harry Potter Sir, but Dobby will enjoy his hamburger and chips as well. Thank you, Harry Potter Sir."

They were in the kitchen version of his room, but Harry and the headmaster sat at two chairs in the part of that room partitioned off for his bed and other furniture. Dobby, who could have walked to the food preparation area, Disapparated there instead.

Dobby's words bothered Harry. "Professor, what did Dobby mean when he said that he mustn't eat with me?"

It seemed to Harry that there was an odd hesitation on Dumbledore's face. The younger wizard thought that it was not that the elder wizard didn't want to tell him, it was that he didn't know exactly how to tell him.

"Harry, last year you probably saved Dobby's life. All of the other house-elves, with the exception of Winky, are bound house-elves to Hogwarts. They are under the protection of Hogwarts centuries-old traditions of kind treatment. They cannot be mistreated as part of their relationship to the castle. As a part of a headmaster's or headmistress' responsibilities they are bound to treat the house-elves well.

"Dobby and Winky are unbound house-elves, or at least Dobby was. Those two were employees and do not have that protection. Remember, our laws quite often have the force of instant magic on them if they are disobeyed. Being unbound, under the current laws, Dobby would become bound to whoever forcibly orders him to obey in a life or death situation.

Had Dolores Umbridge, as a temporary Headmistress, not a full Headmistress, ordered Dobby to tell her what he knew about the DA, and if she had ordered him to do so under threat of physical harm, he would not have become bound to Hogwarts. He would have become bound to her as he had been bound to the Malfoy family. His life would have not been ended, but it would have been as bad or worse than it had been before. So on that night, when you ordered him not to harm himself, and when he obeyed you, Dobby entered a status where he would not have to obey Dolores at all. He could have lied to her if need be to protect you."

The look on Dumbledore's face told Harry that he, Harry, needed to make a connection of some sort. There was something left unsaid, and Harry knew he needed to figure it out for himself. Dumbledore knew, but didn't want to tell him.

The connection was made.

"Dobby is MY house-elf now?" Harry had felt less stunned after being stunned in Defense practices in the past. "But... but... I don't want a house-elf. Professor, what am I going to do? I don't even have a house!" Harry sputtered for a moment. "I know. I'll give him clothes." Instinctively Harry started to untie his shoe to remove a sock.

"Harry, please don't. It will harm Dobby immeasurably."

"But, how...?"

"When a house-elf wants clothes, a rare case indeed even when the elf is being treated badly, but when the house-elf wants clothes, they are not adversely impacted at all when they are set free. Dobby himself actually benefited from being given clothes, and was greatly strengthened to protect you from Lucius at that moment.

"But remember Winky's case. She suffered terribly and is still not over her dismissal. Dobby had her start drinking Butterbeer, a very potent brew for house-elves, in order to deaden the destructive forces within her set off by being given unwanted clothes. That is why all of the house-elves at Hogwarts resist Miss Granger's efforts so. They want to stay at Hogwarts and would be hurt badly if given clothes.

"Most house-elves have died after being given clothes because they have not wanted to leave a family's service. Dobby is an extreme case. Those elves receiving clothes and wanting them have been rare. Those few who have wanted to leave, and have been able to, have usually attached themselves to another family in a matter of days, weeks at the most. There is no record of a house-elf going three years unattached and then attaching to a family. You are not a family, Harry, and you do not have a house, but Dobby feels himself bound to you as fiercely as Kreacher has been to Mrs. Black.

"It is possible that the attachment is even stronger, for you see, Dobby loved you before you became his master. That is unheard of. The anthropological witches and wizards in the Department for the Regulation of Magical Creatures want to do a long-term study on the two of you. I told them they would have to ask you after you come of age."

Harry remained speechless for nearly a minute. Finally he said, "Just please don't tell Hermione. I'll never hear the end of it if you do."

 

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It was just after they finished lunch. Harry had a chat with Dobby about their new status and he made it clear that he wanted to be Dobby's friend more than his master. Dobby cried and wailed about the greatness of his "Harry Potter Sir," the apparent title Harry was to be called by 'his' house-elf.

About this time they heard a noise downstairs, that had not been preceded by the door being unlocked. That meant it was not any of his family, so Harry was on the floor with his wand drawn immediately.

"Very quick reaction time, Harry. But it's Nymphadora," said Dumbledore.

In seconds she was heard clunking up the stairs and breathily running into the room. She paused to gather her wind, and while looking around the room, she said, "Wotcher, Harry. Posh new digs. I've heard about the new Harry room. I can't wait to see the training dojo." While saying this she metamorphed herself from her typical pink-haired street punk look to an Asian version of Tonks with lustrous black shoulder-length hair and a white fighting kimono with black belt.

"Nymphadora, you are here because?" There was no pique or impatience in his voice, but the head of the Order of the Phoenix was curious.

"Oh! I'm sorry, sir. There have been reports coming in from all over the country. Dementor attacks. Seven we have heard of so far, and we do not know how many more, if any, have occurred."

Dumbledore jumped to his feet - the elder wizard was lightning fast. Harry drew his wand again.

The head of the Order said, "Where do you suggest I Apparate, Nymphadora? Do we know if the Aurors and mediwizards have been called?"

Tonks said, "I just came from the Ministry. I'm there today. Kingsley sent me to inform you. Aurors and MLE agents are going to each location as they are being identified. And St Mungo's has been notified. But so far no one has been kissed or hurt at all."

She turned to Harry and said, "Your analysis of the three previous attacks has been spot on, Harry." By now she was back in typical Tonks-wear and appearance. She'd re-appropriated the airhead mannerisms she'd used with him before. She transitioned back to the speech of an Auror and addressed Dumbledore.

"Sir, at every location so far, the reports say that at least one member of Harry's DA has been present. Each one has produced a corporeal Patronus. Students with bloody corporeals! Do you know how long it took me-" she remembered she was reporting to Dumbledore. "At two locations the students' parents also produced corporeal Patroni. It has been a route of dementors." She turned back to the younger wizard present. "Harry, everyone has given your instruction letter credit for their ability to defeat these nasties. You're almost a mantra to the solution. There's even a rumor that one student cast you as their Patronus, but that's just a rumor, as I said.

"But reporters from the Evening Prophet have made it to every site so far. This will be a real boost in the arm for morale around the country." She paused, and noticed what seemed like the lad's preoccupation. "What's wrong, Harry?"

Harry had slumped very slowly into his chair. He was facing out of the window and his eyes, though not teary, were moist looking. He was heard quietly saying, "Thank God. No one was hurt. Thank God it worked."

"Yes, indeed," said Dumbledore. Harry had never seen his smile so grateful.

 

______________________________________________

 

Late that afternoon, Harry, and all of the rising fifth years volunteering to join the program, took the first of the Paladin Acceleration series of potions. It was merely a system cleanser for his body, and it had no affect on Harry other than causing him to go to the loo a little more often than normal.

Dobby fixed Harry his first specific meal of the program, which turned out to be no different than shepherd's pie, sweet potatoes, green beans, and rolls prepared exactly like at Hogwarts. There were larger than normal portions than Harry took during the school year, and he had to eat all of the food at the right time. Harry did not think he was that hungry, but the food disappeared faster than he thought typical, but not as fast as Ron could make a meal vanish.

Harry sat at his desk in his new room and was reading the book that Dumbledore had given him.

The headmaster had said just before leaving, "Harry, I know you are not an avid reader even though you are a very bright student. It has been my observation that bright students who dislike reading quite often read too slowly to enjoy it. Your active mind cannot slow down to the pace your eyes have been trained to go.

"Tell me, you were never really encouraged to read as a young lad when you first learned, were you?"

"No, sir. Uncle Vernon called me a nancy-boy for liking to read at first. Then Dudley began to take any book I wanted and tossed it in the rubbish, so I gave up except for textbook reading."

"Well, Harry, this is a Muggle book on speed reading. You might find you enjoy reading if you can do so at a pace for your active brain to be fully engaged. You will have a lot more reading to do over the next two years than you've experienced so far, and I truly believe your fine mind will discover you have an exciting new world awaiting you in the books in your new personal research library.

"It will not be easy at first, but if you will force yourself to go through these first four chapters of the speed reading book, and take enough time to practice what is says, you just might find a breakthrough in your reading speed that will make reading more enjoyable. Then reading the rest of this training book will be easier."

"Hermione will like that, but Ron..."

"Do it for yourself, Harry, not for Miss Granger or in spite of Mr. Weasley.

"Take any regular book you haven't read and use these instructions with it to practice the drills. A few hours of hard work just might open your eyes to what you first were looking for in your early days of reading. Reading did that for me, Harry."

"I don't know, Professor, but I promise to try."

"That is all I can ask."

Harry had tried for almost an hour after dinner to use the drills of the speed reading book while reading Hogwarts, A History. He almost threw the large dull tome across the room before dropping it heavily on the floor. The new sound dampening in his room had its benefits.

"Mister Harry Potter Sir, might Dobby be so bold as to make a suggestion?"

"Anything, Dobby, anything. Why'd I promise Dumbledore I'd go through this book?"

"Harry Potter Sir doesn't really like Hogwarts, A History...?"

"No, Dobby. The few battles and Quidditch stories, which I've already read, are good, but most of it's boring, and I'm supposed to read something new with this training, so I can't read my few favorite parts over again."

"Dobby has a book, Harry Potter Sir; 'tis the most important book in house-elf history, and Dobby's family's most prized possession. 'Twould be an honor if Harry Potter Sir would consider reading it. 'Tis a most exciting book to read, Harry Potter Sir, in Dobby's humble opinion."

"I didn't think house-elves were allowed to... own... things."

"Oh, house-elves aren't, Harry Potter Sir. But... but, Sir, this is different. This book is key to the prophecy, Harry Potter Sir."

Harry jerked his head up. How could Dobby know-? "What do you know-? What prophecy, Dobby?"

"Dobby shouldn't yet, Harry Potter Sir. But, sir, there is a prophecy, that the heir of Dobbert, the leader of the first house-elves and friend of the first Master, well, the heir of Dobbert will be friends with the heir of the first Master. In a time of great danger the book, this book, shall become known. Then there is the test."

Harry gave Dobby a look of confusion, but the house-elf was busy turning around and snapping his fingers. A book about the size of Hermione's favorite, but roughly one half as thick appeared in his hands as he completed the rotation. Dobby held it up but not out for Harry to hold.

"Harry Potter Sir will notice the very unfamiliar characters embossed in the cover."

The cover of the book was old leather, but very well taken care of, oiled to be kept supple. Dobby opened the book, and the writing inside was of the same unfamiliar script and character set, but neatly hand written. Dobby then closed the book.

"The test, Harry Potter Sir, is in the next step." Dobby snapped his fingers and handed the book to Harry.

Harry hesitated only the briefest of moments, then reached out and took the book. For almost five seconds nothing happened. During that time Harry looked for just a moment at Dobby, who looked partly concerned and partly hopeful.

Then the book became a little warm, and the indecipherable characters embossed into the leather cover began to morph. Harry looked inside to the pages and saw that he could easily understand the handwriting now. Harry closed the book, and before looking again at the cover, he looked at Dobby, who was now beaming at him.

"Harry Potter Sir is the heir of the first Master. Dobby suspected so when he heard Harry Potter Sir had Apparated without training."

The cover of the book now read, "The Way of the Spell Monger by Telemachus Grind."

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Author's Notes -

Inventory at Ollivanders - Please forgive my self indulgence, but there is a reason other than promoting one of my stories to mention my tale, "Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C." There are a few elements of that story essential to this tale. According to that story Harry and Dumbledore both helped Mr. Ollivander with his annual inventory the summers before their respective third years at Hogwarts. Mr. Ollivander used that time to tell each boy of the founding of his family's business back in 382 B.C. and how modern magic as it is known today, was first discovered and developed. You do not have to read it to understand this fic, but I think you might like it if you've ever wondered how Harry's magic first began.

That fanfic can be found here at FanFicAuthors.net. It starts a little slowly, but a number of reviewers state that it is the definitive story on how magic in the Potterverse came about.

 

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Disclaimer--- What belongs to J K Rowling is J K Rowling's. Everything left is mine, I guess, but remember the old adage: "There is nothing new under the sun."

However, that which is mine is copyright 2006 Aaran St Vines.

 

Previous Chapter One - "Defenseless Muggles" Chapter Two - Defenseless? Not Defenseless at All Chapter Three - The First of Three Visitors Chapter Four - Alastor Moody and Steph Granger Chapter Five - The Paladin Program Chapter Six - An Offer Vernon Can't Refuse Chapter Seven - Harry Potter: Spell Monger, Paladin, and Heir Chapter Eight - Aberration Day Interim Chapter Nine Chapter Ten - Sanctuary Chapter Eleven - Conversations and Confrontations Chapter Twelve - Time with Ginny and Thunderfire Chapter Thirteen - Harry Goes International Chapter Fourteen - Harry and the Wizengamot Chapter Fifteen - The Three-Thirty-Three Families Chapter Sixteen - Business and Pleasure Chapter Seventeen - Business Dinner or First Date Chapter Eighteen - There's Fighting and Then There's Fighting Chapter Nineteen - Coming to an Understanding Chapter Twenty - The Founding Mothers and Fathers Chapter Twenty-One - Peace In Our Time Chapter Twenty-Two - A Day That Will Live In Infamy! Next