18 December 1993
"Phineas…can you do me a favor?"
"What?"
He was in his sitting room at Dawn Park, having returned home that morning. He, Rolf, and Draco had done so byway of the Hogwarts Express. He had, once again, found himself attached to a window as the train twisted and turned over mountains and under water.
"Can you ask Dumbledore if I can come through his floo?"
With a put upon sigh, Phineas got up from his seat and walked out of the frame. Harry had returned home to the portrait in the room. Apparently, Regulus had created another and placed the one from Grimmauld Place in his office.
Phineas returned almost a second later. "Grindelwald is visiting. Do you still wish for me to ask the question?"
"No. Thank you, Phineas."
With that he shrunk his backpack and a gift then left the room. He found the rest of the family having pre-dinner cocktails in the living room.
"Evening," he said. "Which floo works?"
Henry held up his wand. "You may go through this one, but you will have to walk through the front door when you return."
"Where are you going?" James asked.
"Ol' Sluggy invited me to his party."
Sirius shook his head. "I'm so disgusted with you."
"I'm sorry."
"Aren't Simeon and Darius there?" James asked.
Charlus, in his corner, threw back his head and Fleamont bowed his own. Charlus summoned a bottle of scotch from some place and filled his and Fleamont's cocktail glasses.
"Harry," Henry called.
Harry tilted his head. "What's that got to do with me? Not being snarky at all. I really need you to connect this for me."
"How would you feel if one of us started cozying up to your professors?"
Harry licked his lips, savoring the words he could not say. It took everything in him not to smirk at Charlus. "I felt nothing when Sirius was trying to chat up Thanos."
"Harry," Henry called again.
It was almost drowned out by James asking, "Can't you let them have something?"
"No," Harry said. "Why would I do that?" He held up a finger. "Wait. Just to be clear: what am I not letting them have exactly?"
Again Henry was drowned out by James. "Simeon doesn't have any friends!"
"Well I know that," Harry said, "but I don't see how my presence will stop him from making some. Unless, of course, you mean Diggory and Bones because I refuse to not insult Diggory and Bones. Can't wait to meet Fawley and the other Macmillans. In fact, I will walk up and down Hufflepuff table next year insulting everyone sitting there."
Not that he cared about the house system, but he did notice Hufflepuffs were the rudest people he came in contact with. Even most of the Slytherins, past and present, had a little more sense.
"Why is that funny?" James asked him.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Same reason it was funny when it was Slytherin. Look, I'm not the reason Simeon doesn't have friends. He's mean and a follower." Harry snorted. "The Severus Snape of Hufflepuff."
Sirius choked on his cocktail and James whitened either out of horror or fury. Harry couldn't tell.
"I don't know why you keep yelling at me when we all know Naomi is nasty to everyone. Shouldn't be hard to figure out he's his mother's son," Harry said. "The whole Smith family is just…rude. Ill-mannered. Uncouth and rundown."
Charlus snapped his head towards Harry.
"Simeon is a Potter," James said before Charlus could speak.
Harry shrugged. "So is Darius and neither of them are proud of it."
That snatched the air from the room. He felt sympathy for Charlus, but he wasn't looking at Harry anyway. In fact, the only one who could was Henry.
"Sirius hates his family and no one could insult him for it. Well, except Charlus, but he doesn't mean it."
Sirius snorted as Charlus pointed at him. "Yes, I do."
"No, you don't."
"Don't tell me what I mean, boy. I mean I every insult. Every word in say!"
Harry shook his head. "No, you don't. You love those people. I can't wait to see – "
He paused and looked at Henry, who closed his eyes and shook his head. "Go ahead."
Harry grinned. "I can't wait to see you bond with your sister, Callidora, and your nephew, Bartemius."
Charlus blinked as Sirius got to his feet with his mouth wide open.
Fleamont sat back and mouthed 'what?'
"Lysandra?!" Euphemia said. "Lysandra Black. "
"Yaxley," Henry corrected.
Harry held up his hand. "I'll see you lot Christmas Eve. Tata!"
With that he hopped into the fireplace and headed to Horace Slughorn's office.
A few moments later, he stepped into a spacious office that was lit up with green and silver Christmas decorations. Harry thought the silver and emerald green snakes with Santa hats hanging from the ceiling were oddly adorable.
Round tables framed the outskirts of what looked like a dance floor. They had either silver or green table cloths on them and were lined with gold dishes.
"Harry m'boy," Slughorn greeted. "Welcome, welcome."
Harry shook his hand then pulled the shrunken gift bag from his pocket to enlarge. "Happy Christmas, sir. An old birdy told me some of your favorites."
"Old birdy? The Minister?"
"No," Harry drawled. "Narcissa."
Slughorn laughed as he took the package. "Thank you, m'boy." He placed the package to place on his desk. "Come, come," he said with his hand on Harry's forearm. "Let me introduce you to the rest of Hogwarts' best."
"Hi, Harry," a group of girls chorused.
"Hi, Jessica; Hi, Marcella; Evening, Willow; Hello, Emma."
Slughorn chuckled and proceeded to take Harry around the room. Harry would disagree that the gathered students were all of Hogwarts' best. Oh, some were highly intelligent, but a lot were from affluent families or were related to a famous person or politician.
When Slughorn released him, Harry was left to chat with some students who were in his year.
"Chang says you're a prick and Edgecombe agreed," one Padma Patil said. She and her twin were gorgeous with rectangular faces and brown skin. Their eyes were dark and striking and their long, black hair shined under the candle light. "But Boot says they had to insult you for you to be a prick and Longbottom, who doesn't speak, agreed. So what's the truth?"
Harry smiled. "That I'm a complex, young man. I am both a prick and Cho's friends insulted me."
Ernie Macmillan, a stocky blond with hazel eyes, snorted derisively. "I know your brother, Potter, and my father knows yours. In fact, everyone in my family has met a Potter and no one likes the lot."
"I bet you could tell me, by name, which member of my family insulted each member of yours?"
Ernie smirked. "Yes, whenever the Potters are brought up it's never without an insult."
"I thought so," Harry said. "I can't as the Macmillans aren't important enough to bring up in casual conversation."
Ernie flushed as Blaise Zabini and Tracey Davis laughed.
"Now you can tell your children how nasty Harry James was to you."
Parvati got to her feet. "Can we dance, Potter?"
Harry shrugged and got to his own. "Come on."
"That was mean," she said with a giggle.
Harry grinned. "I know."
That dance led to a number of others. That was until Slughorn latched onto him again.
"I have two more people for you to meet." He led Harry over to two adults, one of whom Harry knew. "This is Arsenius Jigger and Lily Evans. I'm sure you've heard of both?"
"No," Harry said. "I've never heard of either of them "
Arsenius Jigger was a robust-looking, old man; tall and broad-chested with white hair that touched his nape and dark eyes. He was dressed in black, silk robes and had a cane in his hand. He looked Harry over critically.
"You're not as runt-ish as I expected you to be," he said as he walked around Harry. "Stay still," he barked for Harry was turning with him.
Harry grinned and refused to stop spinning. "What exactly do you want to see?"
"I have seen enough. You are your great-grandfather."
Harry inclined his head. "Thank you, sir."
"That was no compliment."
"Yes, it was," Harry drawled.
Mr. Jigger sniffed. "And you sound like him, too. How terrible."
Harry grinned at him then turned to Lily. "Evening, Miss Evans."
Lily started. She wore a long sleeve, dark green dress that was getting her quite a bit of attention. "Hello, Harry."
Mr. Jigger pulled out a chair and sat down. "Sit, Potter."
"Would you like a drink?" Harry asked.
"Do I look incapable?"
Harry summoned a drink for himself and an amused Lily then sat down. "How may I help you, sir?"
"What do you have lined up for me to enjoy? I expect there to be something as I have been told you are a proud Potter."
Harry paused for a moment as he hesitated. Despite the urge to let that slide, he said, "I'm the only one who can determine which Potter is proud enough and no one else. Not even Henry."
"Oh, you are just like your eponym," Mr. Jigger said. "Unfortunately for you, you're still a fawn and you don't scare me. However, I do have grandsons I will take care for. Now answer my question."
Harry shook his head, but said, "Next year I'll give you something for the stars – "
"I study curses and potions."
Harry inclined his head. "So do I, which is why I am going to determine the fate of astrology."
Mr. Jigger raised his eyebrows. "Speak in coherent sentences."
Harry laughed. "Thanos and I have spent the last three years brewing Veritaserum under the full moon, a bright Mercury, moon in Aries, and a combination of the three "
"All except the combination have been tried and tested."
"Not the way I did it," he said, "but you will have to wait until February of ninety-five to know exactly what I did."
During their annual December lunch, Mr. Waffling had told him about the bi-annual Practical Potioneer Innovative Young Brewer competition. He would have to submit his work by next December. It would be tight window with having to write up all his findings between the nineteenth of November to the first of December, especially if he was chosen, but he was prepared to be late with some of his schoolwork.
Mr. Jigger glanced at Lily, whose narrowed eyes were on Harry. When he turned back to Harry, he said, "Very well, what else?"
"I'm in-between studying the Flesh Eating Curse and hereditary diseases," he said.
Mr. Jigger blinked. "Excuse me? Do you mean muggle diseases?"
"No, I mean diseases old families have suffered from for centuries," he said. "All the Blacks who've died recently died from the same thing. Each branch of the Potter family has several members who have died from the same disease, but one that's totally different from the Blacks. I might have another family, too, but I haven't met with them yet."
Mr. Jigger nodded. "You are a terrifying combination of Henry Potter and Albus Dumbledore. I expected the former, but the latter, and the combination itself, is horrifying and stomach churning."
Harry laughed.
"Now what can I expect in the area of Dark Arts?"
Harry shook his head. "Nothing. I haven't been able to do anything with the Dark Arts."
"'Haven't been able to?'"
Harrys nodded. "I have no time."
"I suppose not when you're busy stroking your own ego."
He laughed again. "Exactly."
Mr. Jigger stared at Harry until understanding flooded his countenance. "You've been around the Blacks."
"Most of my life. You? You are light work." He grinned as Mr. Jigger puckered his lips. "Now what do you have for me?"
Mr. Jigger leaned forward. "That depends on how Dark you wish to go?"
Harry leaned over to whisper in his ear. "To the soul. I'm surrounded by masters and mistresses of potions. I don't need another."
Mr. Jigger raised his champagne glass and tipped it to Harry. "And how available are you next summer?"
"I'm in-between deciding on an internship under Professor Croaker, but I'll definitely have most afternoons free."
"So you intend to study as a career? Where will you go after leaving Durmstrang?"
Harry sighed. "I don't know about the first, but the goal is Alexandria or Baghdad after Durmstrang."
A number of students had come over to meet Lily while Harry and Mr. Jigger spoke. Most were muggleborns, who tried to get her to leave the table.
When his conversation lulled, Harry turned to Hermione Granger, a girl with large front teeth and bushy, brown hair, and Penelope Clearwater, a brunette whose round face was rather pretty and framed by long, curly hair.
"Miss Evans and I go way back," he told them. "She's use to consorting with vile half-bloods and awful purebloods." He pointed at himself and Mr. Jigger. "We are like old times."
Lily sighed. "Never change, Harry."
"For you? Of course."
She narrowed her eyes and he winked.
Before she could say anything, though, Hermione said, "How could you possibly know each other?"
"I get around," Harry said.
Before she could demand an explanation, Graham Montague walked over to him. The older boy held his hand out for a handshake. "Harry."
Harry paused at the usage of his first name. Granted he hadn't seen much of Montague in the past decade, but all interactions had amounted to them calling out the others surname. "Graham. It…hasn't been long enough."
Montague curled his lip in turn then nodded at the table before walking away.
"Give my worst to Marcus," Harry called after him.
He peeked at the parchment in his hand to see it was dark purple, so he got to his feet. "It was nice meeting you," he said to Mr. Jigger. "See you later," he said to Lily. Then he nodded at the two girls and said, "Excuse me."
In the corridor, he opened the note. In Grindelwald's hand, it read:
I'm in Albus' office.
Harry rolled his eyes, but went to attend him.
Grindelwald was sitting in the dark in Dumbledore's office drinking something. Much to his surprise and dismay, Dumbledore wasn't there.
Harry, who had walked the corridors with his wand in hand, stood in the opposite corner with a firm grip on it. Most of it was under his sleeve despite the darkness of the room.
"Good evening, sir," he said.
Grindelwald took his time speaking. Harry waited while silently willing him to spit it out.
"I've spent the past five months debating if I wish to see you tomorrow," he said. "It has been heavy on my spirit. I decided that, no, I did not wish to stomach it."
Dramatic.
Why were they all so dramatic?
Was he this way?
"I'm sorry to hear that."
In a blink, he was moving. In the next, he found himself face to face with Grindelwald, who had a handful of his collar. Harry almost gagged as the stench of alcohol flooded his senses.
"I don't appreciate being lied to," he spat in Harry's face. "I have given you everything only to be repaid with deception and disrespect. Even after you became well you still refused to attend me to explain yourself and ask for forgiveness."
"You…you didn't ask," Harry managed.
Grindelwald threw him against the stone wall and he saw stars. "You have lied and omitted while eating at my table. You should have found it necessary to come to me on bended knee!"
The room was going black and Harry heard himself gasp out, "Did Dumbledore?"
Then, for the first time in years, Harry felt an unfathomable amount of pain. He threw his head back and his mouth opened in a silent cry.
Blessedly it was over in a moment.
He hit the ground with a gasp and eyes blurred with tears. He blinked and found he was on his knees between an irate Albus Dumbledore and a defiant Gellert Grindelwald.
Harry understood truly; better than before Tom's fear of Albus Dumbledore. He understood why Grindelwald had never laid a hand on Ollivander and the Flamels; why Dumbledore was the one who did as he pleased.
He had been correct in his assessment: Dumbledore was the might behind the two and no, Grindelwald did not want to tumble.
"I asked if you had an issue," Dumbledore said calmly. "Why did you not demand I come to you on bended knee? Is it because I do not eat at your table?"
Grindelwald looked infuriated. "Take care, Albus."
"No," Dumbledore said as he held out a hand to Harry, who he then helped into a chair. "You should have taken care as I told you to do many years ago."
"I am not your subordinate!"
Harry wondered if a sober Grindelwald would regret his current belligerence, either out of true regret or because he showed his hand.
"Gellert…there is a bed upstairs – "
"I'm not interested in warming your bed, Albus. "
Harry's eyes widened. In that moment, he wished Grindelwald had killed him.
Dumbledore brought himself up to his fullest height. Despite the insignificant difference, Dumbledore seemed to tower over Grindelwald. Harry had no idea what Dumbledore said to Grindelwald, but it caused unmistakable fury.
They stood face to face. Almost nose to nose until, of course, Grindelwald stepped back.
"You will throw yourself in front of Harry Potter like a skeletal shield?"
Dumbledore moved to stand directly in front of him.
Grindelwald's eyes widened. "It was a mistake to listen to you."
"Yes, as always, the fault lies with me."
Grindelwald fingered his wand and Harry summoned his own in the dark. Dumbledore didn't move.
Suddenly there was a flash of light and a crack as if lightning had struck. Harry raised a shield as it sounded like the room was coming down around them. The portraits screamed as the room – no, the very foundation of the castle – shook.
The lights came on and Harry looked around. Grindelwald was gone and had left disaster in his wake. The windows had been blown out. Harry watched as Dumbledore's desk slid right out a window. The bookshelves had been torn apart. The chandelier was in pieces on the floor, very near where Harry and Dumbledore stood.
Harry dropped the shield. "Phineas tell Regulus to run."
"Now!" Dumbledore finished. "Everard go find Bartemius."
The door burst open as Harry told Elizabeth Burke to, "Go wake Emmeline."
"My word, what happened in here?" he heard in French.
Harry paid Nicolas no mind as he said, "My house!"
He was home in no time and found Henry sitting in his office with Fleamont and Charlus. A bottle of cognac and three glasses were on the coffee table between them.
"I thought you were going to…France. What the hell happened to your neck?" Henry asked.
"Grindelwald tried to kill us!"
The three men moved. As did the portraits, who exited their frames.
"'Us?'" Charlus said.
"He asked Dumbledore if he would stand in front of me like a shield and he did."
Henry looked at him. "Albus Dumbledore stood in front of you against Gellert Grindelwald?"
"Yes?"
Henry narrowed his eyes but stared over Harry's shoulders. "Well I suppose fifty years is better than never."
"Eh?" Harry said.
"What?" Charlus
Fleamont just looked at him.
Henry shook his head.
"You tried to talk him out of it?" Harry asked.
Henry touched his forehead. "I need you to stop jumping to conclusions. And, yes, but only because he came to me."
"To do what?" Harry asked. "Get you to stand down or not fight?"
"He didn't want to fight. He came to me, but he wasn't necessarily threatening. He was…I know he went to a few others…"
Harry furrowed his brow then said, "The Flamels and Rosiers? Or Ogden and Marchbanks?" His eyes widened. "All four?!" He blinked. "Oh…you weren't hiding. You don't like those people!"
"Succinct and astute as always."
Harry – Charlus and Fleamont, too – stood there opened mouthed.
"Do you not have children to check on? Or do you intend to stand here gaping stupidly?"
All three moved, but Harry said, "I don't have children. Well…Jason is with his grandfather and Regulus is either with his grandparents, with Dumbledore, or in his house."
When the other two were gone, Henry said, "I don't hate them much anymore. I have grown indifferent. And..."
Just then a large, silver phoenix appeared next to Harry. "Please return at your earliest convenience. I have it on good authority you aren't dueling for your life."
Harry exhaled. "Alright, I'll come back here before I leave."
"And where the fuck do you think you're going? I hope you are not of the opinion you're still going to France tonight?"
Harry blinked. "Well…you're certainly irritable. It's got you coming out of character." He rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll go tomorrow."
"You won't go at all!"
"You cannot keep me in this house."
Henry swelled and, with what seemed like one giant step, was in Harry's face in a second. "I most certainly can! And I will."
"You would ruin my life because of Grindelwald?"
"Do you have a death wish?!"
Harry opened his mouth then closed it with a frown. After a moment, he said, "Wow. No, not anymore. Huh." To an astonished Henry he said, "No, I don't, but Arsenius Jigger just said I was a terrifying combination of you and Dumbledore? Would either of you hide in the house?"
"I did it for fifty years!"
Harry sighed. "And I'm trying to be better than both of you." He patted Henry's cheek. "Have a good night."
Henry grabbed Harry's arm. "Do you know – "
"I'm aware," Harry interrupted. "But what do you want me to do? Give me a reasonable way to keep myself – and your line alive – with Grindelwald and Tom Riddle on my back."
Henry stared at him with a pained expression. "I never imagined having this conversation with a thirteen year old. Vesta's shoe is on my foot and you're trying on mine." With a frown, he touched the back of Harry's head. He drew it back and both their eyes widened at the red and sticky palm. "Does your head not hurt?"
Harry paused. "Yes…I think so?"
Henry healed and cleaned his head. Harry found that, yes, his head had hurt and, no, that hadn't been sweat.
"Do you sense an odd or irritating feeling from any other place?" Henry asked as he did something to Harry's neck.
Harry moved then shook his head. "Thanks."
Henry touched his Harry's head again and stared out the window until they heard footsteps.
"Grandfather?" they heard James.
Henry stepped back. "Go, but you are to come back here. Do not leave the country, Harry."
"Yes, sir." Harry had just stepped into the fireplace when James entered the room. He heard not one word from him for he rushed to say, "Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts."
He returned to Dumbledore's office to find it fixed. A group of people, including Regulus, had also gathered in it. He started towards Regulus, but, with two long strides, Bartemius intercepted him.
"I will not continue to be woken out of my sleep every five or so months," Bartemius said. "You will either learn to behave or stay in the house at night so that your life can be threatened in the daytime."
Harry nodded. "Good morning, Minister. It's lovely to see you, too. Yes, I had a good time in Brazil. And I'm well by the way."
Bartemius curled his lip. "Your snark is less endearing on four hours of sleep."
Harry looked at his watch. "You went to bed at eight o'clock? Merlin, you're old. Excuse me."
He left an offended Bartemius standing in the center of the room.
"So what did you do that almost had me murdered by Grindelwald?" Regulus asked softly. "It's a good thing I took inspiration from you and Taurus. He blew up the fucking room and I saw my life flash before my eyes."
"He's in his cups," Harry whispered
Bartemius came over with Emmeline and the Flamels. "So what did you do, young one?"
Harry snorted. "Well, old man, I just walked in here and he started on something about deception and disrespect. Then he threw me against the wall. Granted, I shouldn't have asked if Dumbledore had to come to him on bended knee, but that was no reason to start the torture. Then they started arguing and he blew up the room."
"Of course he chooses now to lose his mind," Nicolas said. "A most inopportune time."
Harry eyed him and his wife. Due to recent revelations, he didn't know how to feel. About them, the elder Ogdens, the Blacks. Hell, Celestine and Laurent. The Potters, Scamanders, Jalalis, and a number of other families and individuals had done an incredible job against Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and their Acolytes. He could, due to their inaction, only imagine how different things could be had they moved.
Dumbledore swept into the room and had a soft conversation with McGonagall.
After a few moments, she turned. "Mr. Black and Mr. Potter. I'll show you to your rooms."
"Oh, I'm not staying in this wretched, drafty castle," Harry said. "Unless I'm being kicked out of the room, which, after almost dying, is a very mean thing to do to a little boy."
Bartemius pinched the bridge of his nose. Emmeline and Perenelle sighed. Scrimgeour and Nicolas looked at him in amusement.
"For Merlin's sake," Regulus said. "You are thirteen."
Harry inclined his head. "A growing, little boy."
Regulus shook his head as Professor McGonagall stared at Harry.
He turned to Dumbledore. "You're kicking me out?!"
"No, but you will be quiet."
"Good luck," a few people, including some portraits, said.
Harry sniffed then said, "Come back, please."
"For what?" Regulus asked
"The thing. Unless you're scared. I can do it myself, I guess."
Regulus stared at him as the others looked on with interest. "It's twelve in the morning. Don't play games."
Harry rolled his eyes. "What did you tell me when I came back to school?"
"Oh. Fine."
With that he left as Bartemius stepped in front of Harry to stare him down. Harry stared back.
Dumbledore sat in his seat. "Nicolas, Perry. I need you to speak with Madam Maxim in the morning. Specifically about protecting Miss Delacour." He picked up a quill and parchment. "I have been meaning to increase protection around Beauxbatons and Ilvermorny as it is." As he wrote, he said, "Rufus, before they do that you should pay a visit to Halle about the same thing. Then you, and Halle, should go speak with her, too."
He finished the note and handed it to Rufus. He then scribbled out and dried another for Nicolas.
"Thank you," he said to Nicolas and Perenelle.
When they were gone, he turned to Bartemius and Rufus.
"You will have to go over this with the new head, but for the time being the pair of you should work out how to protect Hogwarts. You understand what we are up against," he said to Bartemius as he scribbled out another note. "Send Shacklebolt or Robards to have a conversation with Jackson about Ilvermorny and Miss Taylor." He handed the note to Bartemius. "Have a good night."
Someone knocked on the door as Rufus left. Bartemius, however, went over to Harry.
"Enter."
Regulus slipped inside and went over to stand beside Harry.
"Who in the East can supply me with information?" Dumbledore asked Emmeline. After she gave names, he turned to Regulus, he said, "Who at Durmstrang can be useful?"
"Thanos," Harry said.
Dumbledore hummed. "Alexandra is fond of and loyal to Maxim, who is loyal to Gellert and I need someone who will work with me without intimidation. As it stands, I have nothing for that either. She isn't close to her sister or her niece."
Harry hesitated, but said, "Thanos is loyal to Potter."
"Your opinion of yourself is still incredibly high," Regulus mocked. "I know you're close to Thanos and all, but he's right…"
Harry sighed. "He's wrong and, while I'm one hundred percent sure Thanos would come to my aid…" He looked at Dumbledore. "Trust me," he drawled. "I swear. And Nymphadora Black is also very useful."
Emmeline turned up him. "You mean the fumbler who colors her hair the brightest and worst of colors?"
Harry and Regulus laughed.
"Yeah," Harry said. "One of the few people who can give me a run for my money."
Emmeline looked confused.
Bartemius tapped her shoulder. "They know something you don't, but Our Majesty does. But as all the other children who lived in Delphinium House are forces to reckon with, I believe this Miss Black has led you astray."
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Emmeline, do look over Miss Black's file then find a way to discreetly meet with her." He handed her a parchment. "You are to meet with the other name on this list as well. Thank you."
Emmeline and Bartemius shot Harry scathing looks before leaving together.
Regulus looked at Harry. "Really?" he said with a nod towards the now empty fireplace. "I am so out of the loop."
"Well, Harry, what do you have for me?"
"Voldemort almost killed Reg's house-elf years ago while trying to make sure his safety measures were good," Harry said.
Dumbledore stared Regulus down without a bit of light in his eye. His voice was steady, though, as he asked, "Why wasn't this mentioned in the past eight years."
"Because he doesn't care about your kingdom," Harry answered. Dumbledore wasn't going to do anything to Regulus. Least of all because Horace Slughorn sat in his castle withholding vital information.
"Does he not care for his own life?"
Harry shrugged. "Probably not. I wouldn't if Gellert Grindelwald was my present and future and Tom Riddle was my past and future." He looked at Regulus. "You know, in a way I did you favor tonight. You're welcome."
Regulus closed his eyes and flexed his fingers.
"Mr. Black…because Gellert Grindelwald is my present, I need you to work with Harry in yours," Dumbledore said. "You will go retrieve the horcrux and keep me abreast of all that you do concerning any others."
Regulus looked at Harry then at Dumbledore. "You want me to take him to a cave full of inferi?"
Dumbledore paused, but ultimately said, "Who better to take than the Lord of Fire?" He sat back. "Tomorrow we can discuss the rest of your future as I imagine you are exhausted."
Regulus nodded. "Good night, sir, brat."
Harry stretched. "You don't think he's truly going to go after Fleur and Vanessa, do you? Doesn't seem like his style."
"No, not when he is sober, but he has shown his hand and I do not know what will happen in the immediate future," Dumbledore answered. "He will not kill you outright. That is to say: you will not be murdered openly and directly. But if you die in the Amazon, who will be able to prove some magical beast didn't have his way with you?"
Harry licked his lips. "So you'll join me in Brazil in January?"
"Correct." Dumbledore exhaled. "Since discovering your – our – 'deception,' his plans for us, but you in particular, have changed dramatically. The thought of a future where you have popularity and power is frightening. How a simple demand could push him over the edge like this…"
Harry waited, but Dumbledore didn't explain. "You mean Freya demanding her father force me to be her husband in a decade?"
Dumbledore laughed. Hard. "Of course you figured all this out already." He stood up to walk over the window. "He is staunchly against the idea. Now. You are young and far more sensible than Tom Riddle. You are me a century younger than him. It's terrifying. You and Freya together…"
Harry hesitated, but forced himself to say. "Why don't you just put an end to this?"
Silence followed the question. The portraits, who had been 'dozing,' were now wide awake. Harry sat there watching Dumbledore, who continued to stare out the window.
"I know what regret looks like," Harry said. "I saw it enough on Arcturus and Cassiopeia's faces. So why not put an end to a distraction we don't need. He'll at best ignore you if Tom comes back. At worst, he'll be a hindrance using Tom to do as he pleases and blame things on him."
At last Dumbledore spoke. "Are you Henry's conscience, too?"
"No, he told me I'm his salvation."
"I love him."
Harry paused as he wondered if it was romantic or familial, but, in the end, he decided he didn't care all that much. Besides, after a century of companionship, the difference probably didn't matter to Dumbledore either.
"More than your brother and sister?"
"Such judgement from you of all people," he said. "For a time at least, yes. Do not misunderstand, I love my brother and sister, but Gellert is my equal. He could understand me like no other. Brilliant and searching for purpose and power. You know not how his ideas inflamed and consumed me. You see the ending. You know nothing of my beginning."
Harry stared at Dumbledore. As pleased as he was, he wondered why Dumbledore was sharing this with him. But, Harry supposed, a century with only Gellert Grindelwald as your sounding board would make anyone desperate to share with someone else.
"You want him dead," Dumbledore said, "but think clearly: what happens to the east if half the might is gone? At this time when Voldemort is inching closer to relevancy? No one knows about Freya and she is but a child with a year left in school. At the very least Asia and all of Mediterranean descend into chaos." He placed a hand on the window. "East Africa and the Middle East will break out into war with Fatin Jalali heading the charge. No, not right now."
Harry sighed. "Fine, but if I die you'll be in big trouble."
"I know. For more than one reason."
"What's that mean?"
Dumbledore took his time answering, but Harry was use to waiting. When he did answer, he, at last, looked at Harry before doing so. "Are you still determined to be Henry Potter?"
"In what way?"
"In the way that he refused to step into a position of true power." He walked back over to his desk to sit. "You mention marriage to a possible queen. You've made certain you have friends in high and low places. I am told you have been friendly with Draco Malfoy." When Harry just continued to stare, Dumbledore said, "If I dropped dead right now, would you allow Bartemius to place you on the throne to retain control of Britain, Ireland, and maybe North America?"
Would Bartemius do that?
Yes , a voice answered.
Of course. Harry had names behind him. Malfoy, Ogden, Longbottom, Black, and several others. He had fighters on his side and he, Harry, had 'won' the future. Of course, Bartemius, and Lorraine Taylor, would convince him to be the crown so they could rule by proxy.
"You have plans and ideas for the immediate future," Dumbledore said. "I'm certain they're fascinating, but have you considered how those plans will affect the masses perception of you?"
No. No, he hadn't. Despite seeing it everyday and enjoying the company it brought him, he had not considered how that impacted his life and future. Beyond, of course, doing as he pleased and daring dissent. He lived in the moment. What did it matter to him if, ten years from then, some woman and her father expected him to be the pinnacle of society?
"Because, Harry, the masses will always look to power," Dumbledore said. "And you, dear boy, are the power of the future. At least here. So, I ask again: are you still determined to be your great-grandfather?"
Harry rubbed his face. "I don't want to be either of you. Or either of them. I want to be Harry James Potter."
"Our better," Dumbledore said, "but what does Harry James Potter want? When the four of us are dead where will you be? When Jeremy and Andrew Bones decide to pick up where Nathaniel left off, will you be content to watch until they come to your gate or will you thwart them at every turn from the start? When the Rosier twins are men will you be an established stumbling block or will you have to erect one? When Freya comes to you officially can you see yourself turning her down?"
"No."
Dumbledore paused. "You would not turn Freya down?"
"No."
Dumbledore sat back. "I can tell you why that is if you wish to know."
"She's an equal and even better than me in some areas, but that also means I wouldn't turn down Shamira, Delphine, or-or even Kangjeon."
"Not Mr. Hoshi?" Dumbledore drawled.
Harry shrugged. "He's soft and I think he hates me."
"Well one could argue you attempted to kill him."
Harry scoffed. "Only a softie would make that argument."
Dumbledore chuckled. After a few minutes of silence, he said, "You understand those people would wish for you to be their equal."
"Are you pushing me to take up the mantle?"
"No, I'm attempting to open your eyes wide," Dumbledore said. "Your great-grandfather is flexing his social muscle and I believe he's too content in the thought that you want to be like him to see you. Not the child who sees him as a hero, but the young man coming to accept his idols' flaws."
Harry shook his head. "He wants me to have friends here."
"That doesn't negate what I said," Dumbledore answered. "The Potters have been content to stay largely out of politics and mind their business while controlling the southwest and making strong alliances for centuries. Your great-grandfather involved himself far more than any Potter, but even then he is a reactionary."
"Unlike you?"
Dumbledore sighed. "I didn't say I wasn't, but you do not wish to be like me. I am too much of a coward for you."
Harry opened his mouth, but paused for a moment. "I wouldn't say coward…"
"Are you attempting to spare my feelings?"
"No, I…it's not coward," Harry said. "What's the word for someone who allows themselves to be a sidekick? Minion is too strong, but it's the right track."
Dumbledore looked at the ceiling. "I believe the word you are looking for is 'doormat' and I prefer it if you think I'm a coward."
Harry snorted.
"I will assist you for as long as I can," Dumbledore said. "One day, though, you will be without me and your great-grandfather. I'm begging you to spend the next few years considering your choices."