Edit (2018/10/26): Reviews contain spoilers, you've been warned. The story is divergent from the beginning of book six, with a few inserted changes from the earlier years, and will eventually be majorly AU.

For many it was just another day in Little Whinging, Surrey. This summer hadn't been uncharacteristically hot unlike the last, but it still was much warmer than usual. Couples of all ages, and families of various sizes took advantage of one of the last truly warm days, as summer was drawing to close. Laughter rang throughout the streets as some of the younger children in the neighborhood chased each other, playing some type of childish game they must have learnt in the playground at school.

As this laughter travelled into a small, sparsely decorated room in number 4 Privet Drive a small smile graced the lips of a certain raven haired teen. Smiles were a rare thing for the young man whenever he spent time in this immaculately kept house, for there were few happy memories for him within these walls. As a result of recent events, any sort of smile was exceedingly rare for him. After being played like a fiddle, and indirectly causing the death of his beloved godfather, Harry Potter had been made to look like a fool. However, his night of horrors did not stop there, for immediately after losing the single most important person in his life, the bespectacled teenager was finally informed on a matter that should have been revealed to him years before.

Despite this, a smile graced his lips for the first time in weeks. Children always brought a smile to his face. Maybe it was hearing the joy of childhood and the love of their parents, which was something that he was never able to experience. Perhaps it was their innocence from the darkness in the world, something that he himself was exposed to at such a young age.

But, there was another a reason for his smile as well. Today was the last day he would be spending at Privet Drive until next summer. His headmaster, the one who's office he had destroyed weeks earlier, was coming to take him away from his temporary residence.

It had taken a few weeks, but his anger directed towards Professor Dumbledore had simmered down. He no longer had the uncontrollable urge to curse the old wizard, and he had come to terms with several of his more… questionable decisions in regards to Harry's life. The blood-wards surrounding the Dursley's residence were some of the most powerful protections available and considering it was only meant as a temporary protection, it made them all the more impressive. Sirius, the name still pained Harry, was never meant to be thrown into Azkaban and the Longbottom's were never supposed to be tortured into insanity, and custody over Harry was meant to be passed over to either of them after the Ministry gained a semblance of control following the initial fall of Voldemort. Obviously, it did not go according to plan and Dumbledore had to improvise. That did not excuse the treatment he endured living here for years, but that was just water under the bridge between Harry and his Headmaster. In regards to the dreaded prophecy that now hung over his head, Harry could agree to disagree with Dumbledore. He would have much rather known what he would someday face, but Dumbledore's attempt for him to live a relatively normal childhood was a nice thought even though it completely failed.

It's not like he could have started training immediately after he first picked up his wand and turned into some super-powered wizard weapon by the time he took his OWLs. Harry scoffed internally at the thought. One thing that he had learnt in his time in the Wizarding World was that magic took time to settle. There was a reason why children were unable to start their official magical education until the age of 11, and there was a reason they took their OWLs in 5th year and their NEWTs in 7th. Magic was free flowing and a power that no witch or wizard would truly ever understand. One needed to take time to develop their magic, expand their knowledge, hone their control and skill. It was not a switch that one could flick and suddenly turn themselves into a wizard of Dumbledore, Tom Riddle, Grindelwald, or Nicholas Flamel's calibre. Sure there were certain wizards, like himself, who were born with an extraordinary amount of magical power. Driving away hundreds of dementors away with one spell and summoning a broomstick from miles away could attest to that, but truly harnessing this power was a journey in itself. Something that Harry had only just begun.

Harry sighed as turned to look at a small nightstand next to his equally small bed, taking a look at one of Dudley's old watches that he had nicked. He noted that he still had a few hours before his escort would arrive in the evening.

Harry always took joy whenever telling his relatives that some of 'his kind' would be coming to pick him up. Vernon's face always turns an unhealthy shade of purple, Petunia's hands start shaking as if she's expecting the ghost of Lily Evans-Potter to pop out of nowhere, and Dudley slowly backs himself into a corner while covering the spot where he had Hagrid's tail removed. It was comical that despite their obvious fear of magic, they would try to make it seem as if they were in control of the situation. As if the walrus-man, Vernon Dursley, had any say in what someone like Albus Dumbledore could or could not do. Then after a few hours of ignoring the situation, the realization that wizards were on their way would send them into a panic. They would quickly come up with some 'fancy' or 'very important' event that they just could not miss attending, before fleeing the house. Harry wouldn't admit this to Dumbledore or the Order as they wouldn't like this, except for Tonks, but on a few occasions when he had wanted to be alone in the house he told his relatives that 'his kind' were coming over just to get them to leave.

Deciding to treat himself one final time before leaving, Harry went downstairs and threw on the telly and made himself a sandwich from the leftover food found in the fridge. Harry sat and flipped through the channels not looking for anything in particular. Staying at Hogwarts for 10 months out of the year and never being allowed to watch when he was younger, prevented Harry from following any shows. He just enjoyed listening to something other than his own breathing and watching the pictures move, it reminded him of the paintings at Hogwarts that he would be seeing in about two weeks' time.

Noticing how much time had passed when he glanced at a clock on the far wall of the Dursley's living room, he headed upstairs to pack his school trunk. Over the years he had bought a few nicer pieces of clothing to replace Dudley's old cast-offs, so he threw those into his trunk. It suddenly dawned on him that he grew another couple of inches over the summer, so he made a mental note to buy some more clothing when they stopped by Diagon Alley for their schoolbooks. He packed his telescope, potion supplies, the Marauders Map, and a few other things he thought he'd need for the coming year. Closing his trunk, he strapped his father's old wand holster that was gifted to Harry last Christmas from Sirius and slipped his holly wand into it.

Taking a seat on the small cot he had been sleeping on for the past 5 years, Harry's mind shifted towards memories of Sirius. Sirius carried a certain presence and charisma that could just brighten a room. It was that roguish charm that people always talked about, something that unfortunately wasn't seen all too often in the time Harry had known him. Azkaban had done a number on him, and hiding out in the Forbidden Forest, living in a cave for a year, and then immediately moving into his childhood house of horrors did nothing to help his mental health. But despite that, there was always a flicker of amusement, excitement, and… love behind his haunted grey eyes whenever he spent time with Harry. Nothing brightened the animagus up more than spending time with his godson, telling stories of his exploits around Hogwarts with the rest of the Marauders; and nothing brought a tear to his eye quicker than reminiscing his time spent with James Potter. That was the man's greatest regret in life, not being able to save his brother in all but blood and failing to take care of Harry as he had sworn to as his godfather.

Shaking these sad thoughts from his head, Harry wiped a few of the stray tears that escaped his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater, before getting up off his bed. Taking his invisibility cloak and folding it into his pocket, he went to visit his first friend.

"Hey girl, I'm going to let you out," he called out, "I know that you're probably just dying to stretch you wings after being stuck here with me for weeks."

Hedwig bobbed her head and gave a bark of affirmation towards his statement. Immediately after Harry opened her cage door, Hedwig hopped up onto his shoulder and nuzzled his neck.

"I know, I know, I love you too," Harry laughed at his owl's antics, "Professor Dumbledore will be here soon and is going to take me away, so when I let you out you don't need to come back here. You can fly over to the Weasley's, let them know that I'm on my way."

Hedwig puffed out her chest in preparation of this seemingly important job.

"You do know where the Weasley's live right?" Harry joked.

All he got in response was a cuff over the head by her wing and a look that questioned his sanity.

"I was kidding Hedwig," Harry laughed as he rubbed the sore spot on the back of his head, "there isn't a smarter owl out there. Actually… sometimes I think you might even be smarter than Ron."

He got another bark in response, but this one sounded as if she was insulted for being compared to his red headed friend.

"Yeah well maybe we'll set up a chess game between the two of you when I finally get to the Burrow."

Harry instantly regretted coming up with the idea as he spotted the predatory gleam of excitement that came over Hedwig's amber eyes. In all honesty, Harry would actually pay a few galleons to see that chess match happen. The only thing that worried him was the fact that he was fairly certain Hedwig would win the match. Harry was convinced that given half a chance, his owl could very easily take over the world.

"I bet Hedwig could fulfill the prophecy without a problem, maybe she's the power that he knows not… now isn't that an idea," Harry mumbled to himself. "Alright girl it's time to go, I will see you in a few hours," Harry bade Hedwig goodbye as she leapt off his arm and disappeared into the night.

Harry dragged his trunk out of his room and down the stairs to the front door of the house. He checked his watch to see that it had just hit 10:00 o'clock, and immediately after an almost inaudible crack came from outside, followed by a knock on the door in the rhythm of Hogwarts' school anthem. Right on time. Harry was a person who leaned on being chronically late to almost everything in his life, so he was always impressed by those who kept in time. Harry opened the door to see his headmaster dressed in familiar indigo robes with twinkling stars and a matching pointed wizards hat. What caught Harry's attention was a black glove that covered one of his hands.

"Hello Headmaster, a new fashion sense?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow as he led the man into the empty house.

"Ah, I see you have noticed my latest accessory. I had found that my wardrobe as of late had become too predictable and I thought I might take a risk and change it up," he responded playfully, "I do hope that you approve."

"I think it fits you quite well, sir. If anyone could pull it off it would be you."

"Thank you Harry, but it seems you are the only one who does. Both Minerva and Severus think it is a little to…," Dumbledore paused to think, twirling his long white beard in his non-gloved hand, "fashion forward, I think would be an appropriate term. But I paid them no mind, it is always nice to change things up once in a while when you get to my age." A sad look flashed across his usually twinkling blue eyes after he spoke, but it disappeared before Harry could notice. "But alas, I did not travel all this way to discuss fashion with you my boy. We have places to go and people to see this evening, and I'm sure the Weasley's would appreciate it if I did not arrive at too late of an hour."

"Yes of course, sir, I'm ready to leave when you are. But, I still have my school trunk here with me-" Harry was cut off by Dumbledore tapping his wand on the trunk causing it to immediately disappear.

"Your trunk shall be awaiting your arrival," he informed Harry. "Now I believe it is time for us to depart your relative's house and start this evenings activities," he continued as they left number 4 Privet Drive. Dumbledore stopped at the end of the walkway leading up to the house and searched the surrounding area with his eyes. Seeing nothing, he pulled out a gold pocket watch that contained more dials and arms than necessary and held his arm out, "Grab hold Harry, we are on a tight schedule." The moment Harry grabbed hold of the aged wizard's sleeve, they disappeared from Surrey with a soft crack.

In the split second it took the two of them to travel, Harry felt as if he had been pulled through a garden hose while simultaneously having an elephant trod on his stomach. It was one of the most uncomfortable experiences of his life, further cementing how much he detested magical transportation. Harry had heard about apparition and how it took time to get used to the unique feeling, but nobody told him that it would make him want to throw up his dinner.

"Side-a-long apparition Harry, not everyone's favorite mode of transportation. I am quite impressed that you managed to hold your stomach."

"Barely," Harry wheezed in response.

"I do apologize for not giving you fair warning, but as I said before we are on a tight schedule," Dumbledore immediately set off in the direction of a street that ran parallel to a small park. Harry jogged to catch up with Dumbledore's long strides as the man moved rather quick for somebody who had lived for over a century.

"Why are we here, sir?" Harry questioned, as his mind was running through different reasons why Dumbledore would bring him to a small village in the middle of the night.

"We are heading out for a job interview with a potential candidate for one of the teaching positions at the school this year, and you are here to provide a second opinion," he responded with his trademark twinkle in his eyes.

"If we're here to hire a new professor then why are we in such a rush?" Harry asked still not understanding what was going on and why there were doing this so late in the evening.

"Ah, well the prospective professor is not the easiest man to get a hold of, he has a habit of changing locations and hiding out in places that are hard to find. And between you and me Harry," Dumbledore looked at him with a mischievous smirk, "he doesn't know that he is about to be interviewed." Harry understood what they were doing now, this was one of Dumbledore's schemes. He had almost forgotten that despite his innocent grandfatherly appearance, Dumbledore was a seasoned politician who could run with the best Slytherin house had to offer.

An awkward silence fell between the two for the first time that evening, and Harry's mind wandered to his last meeting with the Headmaster. Harry was certain that Dumbledore was also recollecting the event. "Umm, Sir…" Harry started to speak.

Dumbledore raised his gloved-hand to cut him off, "Say no more Harry, if anyone should be apologizing it should be me." Harry tried to speak up but was interrupted again, "I spoke true my boy, I cannot blame you for reacting the way you did. You certainly had the right to do so, especially with how I handled the situation. I should have shared the prophecy with you years ago, and sharing it with you after such an emotional and tragic night was unforgiveable of me. I sincerely hope that you could ease an old man's heart and forgive me," Dumbledore stated looking his true age for the first time that evening.

"Of course I forgive you, sir," Harry responded immediately with a smile. Despite the major speedbump their relationship had recently hit, the man had done so much for Harry. Harry wasn't a fool, he realized that Dumbledore had deceived him in the past and likely still had plans for him, but he felt genuine affection for Dumbledore and believed that the feeling was mutual.

Dumbledore sighed in relief and new life seemed to enter his body, "That means more to me than you could imagine," he replied honestly. "Besides, I think it was about time my office received a makeover. I have become somewhat of a hoarder over the last couple of decades and Minerva has been telling me to get rid of my junk for years. Your actions saved me hours of sitting and debating with myself over which trinket was more useless than the next. I think I may replace them with what muggles call a lava lamp, apparently they are quite relaxing, it would certainly give my office a new look; and sometimes a new look is all that it takes to solve our problems in life."

Harry just smiled at how Dumbledore could go from his eccentric rambling one second, to sharing words of wisdom the next. It was a pleasant walk in the dark that the two were partaking in, as the lingering heat from the day had yet to disappear. But once again Harry started to wonder why they were walking all this way if Dumbledore could have just apparated them directly to the house.

As if reading his mind Dumbledore answered his question, "I find that talking a nice walk every now and then helps clear the mind and soothe the soul. But if you were wondering why we did not arrive directly at the house Harry, that would be because I do not wish to trip any alarms or magical precautions that good old Horace might have placed. He was always quite the clever fellow."

Understanding Dumbledore's reasoning, Harry still wondered why they risked walking completely exposed. "But what if we are attacked?"

"There is no need to worry about your safety Harry, they would not risk approaching us," Harry did not need any clarification at who they were as wild cackling and Voldemort's inhuman voice still haunted his dreams. "If I could be so humble," Dumbledore elaborated, "it would be because I am here." After Dumbledore's epic duel with Voldemort, Harry knew that truer words had never been spoken.

The pair continued their walk for a few minutes until Harry shivered as he felt a slight tingle at the back of his neck, as they approached a non-descript brick house with weeds poking out of the lawn at random intervals. "Those were wards that we had just passed," Dumbledore slowed his pace, "it is quite impressive that you managed to sense their presence, Harry. Many competent adult wizards are incapable of doing what you just did. I myself only developed the ability at an age quite a few years older than you are now," he explained. "Wands out Harry," Dumbledore suddenly spoke in a serious manner as he drew a rather unique looking wand from his twinkling robes, "I do not expect any danger, but one can never be too careful," he added as he unconsciously flexed his gloved hand.

Harry slowly crept into the house behind Dumbledore, and immediately he noticed something was wrong. It wasn't the broken furniture, shattered glass, or blood splayed across the wall, something just felt…off to him about the situation. As Dumbledore systematically casted various detection spells around the house and even tasted some of the blood that had pooled on the floor, Harry took his time and examined the parlour. As he continued to look around the room, Harry figured out what was bothering him. Everything seemed too convenient. The door had been left wide open, there was way too much blood in the house, furniture and glass was broken everywhere you would expect it to be, but there were areas of the house that seemed untouched. As Harry approached one of those areas he found a series of magical photographs sitting on a wooden cabinet. They depicted students of all houses posing at some sort of dinner party with a round-bellied professor who had a walrus mustache not unlike the one Vernon had. However, that was where the similarities between the two ended as the man in the photos looked to be too jolly to be anything like Vernon. Right next to the photographs was a large, pink armchair that looked to have several odd lumps sticking out of it.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry called, "I think I found our missing candidate."

As Dumbledore approached Harry and the odd chair, a small smile graced his face, "Yes I believe you did my boy, might I say your skills in deduction are admirable. I believe this rouse has gone on long enough Horace, it would be rude not to join us," Dumbledore spoke to the chair before poking it with his wand.

The pink chair immediately began to unfold and collapse on itself, revealing an older and rounder version of the man Harry saw in the photographs. "Merlin's beard Albus, there was no need to stab me with your wand," he complained while rubbing his belly. "What gave me away?" he asked curiously.

"For me, I know you to well Horace to be fooled by your deceptions. That tends to happen after working together with someone for over 50 years. It was that and the use of dragon's blood instead of human's, though I would be concerned if you were carrying around vials of human blood," Dumbledore explained before pointing at his young companion, "For Harry over there, I believe he put to use his skills in observation and deduction. The boy has found himself in quite a few dangerous situations over the years, his instincts tend to be correct."

"Everything looked a little bit too convenient, sir," Harry explained, "there was massive amounts of destruction in some areas, but then the area you placed all of your photographs was practically untouched. Also, your chair disguise was a little lumpy."

"That blasted upholstery," he scolded himself, "I knew I did a poor job on it, but I just didn't have the time. My alert went off whilst I was soaking in the tub, I can tell you that it was quite the hectic 20 seconds while I was preparing this," he continued as he started repairing the room to the state it was before the damage. After admiring his work, Slughorn took a seat on a recliner and opened a container of what was apparently crystalized pineapple, something that Harry had never heard of.

"You always had a flair for the dramatics Horace, but I would imagine this performance was not prepared for us this evening," Dumbledore started up as he moved to introduce the main reason for their visit.

Popping another piece of pineapple into his mouth, Slughorn swallowed before replying, "As much as I know you appreciate the dramatics Albus, no, it was not for you. I've taken to moving around every other week, finding different empty homes of muggles who have gone on vacation. It's not the most convenient way of living, but its comfortable enough and most importantly... its safe. I've gotten too old to attend recruitment parties and I have never felt urge to play dress up," he finished bitterly. "I know what you are doing Albus, and the answer is still no. As I said before, my life is comfortable enough at the moment and I don't feel like openly stating my allegiances at this point."

"Horace, there is no need to state any allegiances. All I ask is for you to return to your old post and teach the children your passion, you know there is no safer pla-gggrrrppp…" Dumbledore was interrupted by his own stomach. "Pardon me, but something I ate must not have agreed with me. Could you tell me where the washroom is Horace?"

"Yes, yes, it's down the hall and to the right," he instructed as he pointed down a hallway that led out of the room. As Dumbledore left the room, Slughorn released a deep sigh and rubbed his head in a tired manner. "As much as I respect the man, he tires me out like no other," he muttered to nobody in particular. A tense silence fell upon the room as Slughorn remained in the recliner and Harry stood awkwardly in the corner of the room not knowing what to say. Slughorn slowly peered around the room until his gaze fell upon Harry, "Oh! Sorry my boy, you must forgive my poor manners. In the madness of the last hour I have completely forgotten to introduce myself," he said as he pushed himself up off of the recliner, "my name is Horace Slughorn, potion's master and former professor of Hogwarts. And you are?"

'Potions Master?' Harry thought to himself. Did that mean that Dumbledore wanted him to teach potions again, but what about Snape… oh no. Harry tried his best to stay away from the disturbing thoughts and images that accompanied Snape as the defense professor, and instead focused on the man in front of him, "Harry, sir. Harry Potter. It is a pleasure to meet you," he replied as he extended a hand to shake.

Slughorn hesitated for just one moment as he gave Harry an indistinguishable look, "Yes…" he started to himself, "of course you are my boy! It's an honour to meet you Mr. Potter," this time he spoke out loud as he gave Harry a firm handshake. "You've got a firm grip there Harry my boy, but that must come with being the youngest seeker in a century wouldn't it," he laughed jovially. "A Quidditch star just like your father, though I must admit I did not know him all that well. But you have her eyes, there is no question about that. I should have known immediately that you were her son, how silly of me," he continued as he looked at Harry with what appeared to be tenderness.

The moment was cut short as he quickly dragged Harry over to the photographs he kept with an energy that Harry was surprised he possessed, "Just take a look here my boy. These are all of my star students that I taught over the years, each and every one of them had the potential to be great. Mind you not all of them were great at potions, but they were all special in their own right. I tried my best to get your father out to my little get-togethers, but that boy was wild. Always off creating some sort of chaos, and its one of my regrets that I did not get to know him better, because he was one of the most talented wizards I had seen in years," hearing his father being spoken about in such a way from a seemingly well-connected and important man brought a smile to Harry's face, "now this here is Regulus Black," Slughorn continued as he pointed to boy who looked startlingly similar to Sirius. Sirius had only ever mentioned his brother once and the moment he did his eyes took on a haunted look that Harry associated with Azkaban, needless to say he was never brought up again. "A seeker just like you, but I'm sure you knew that by where he is sitting in the team photograph. His brother Sirius was the only one that I never had in my house, I nearly completed the set," he joked as he looked off to the distance, getting lost in the memories of the past.

"You were the head of house for Slytherin!?" Harry was shocked.

"Yes, yes of course! I was the Slytherin head of house for almost 50 years before I retired, I believe young Severus has taken up the position," seeing the look of disgust on Harry's face at the mention of the man caused Slughorn to chuckle, "oh yes, he was a troubled boy back when he went to school as well, but truly brilliant. I believe I have a picture of him somewhere," he said as he looked through the rows of photographs, "he was definitely one of the best potions students I have ever taught, utterly brilliant with a cauldron… not to mention, a close friend of your mothers," he added with a smirk.

Time suddenly stopped as Harry's world screeched to a halt. If Harry would have looked at himself in the mirror, he would have seen how his jaw almost hit the floor. Snape was friends with his mother. How? That was the million galleon question that was repeating itself in his mind.

"Shocking as it may be, it is true. Despite being placed in rival houses, the two remained good friends over the years. Your mother herself was incredible at brewing as well, but as a team they were unstoppable. Sadly over time they grew apart and eventually they no longer spoke to each other, I never found out why, but then again it wasn't any of my business anyways," he explained. "I fear I may have imploded your brain my boy," Slughorn let out a deep laugh at seeing the frozen expression of disbelief on Harry's face. "Here is something that might just cheer you up," Slughorn said as he gently shook Harry's shoulder to get his attention, "I keep her on a shelf on her own." Slowly, Slughorn reached up to a muggle photograph that sat in a circular frame all by itself on a shelf above the others. The photograph was of a stunningly beautiful girl with fiery red hair and emerald green eyes that shone like the gem itself. His mother. Tears stung Harry's eyes as he fought to keep them back. "She was my all time favorite student. The smartest witch of her generation, a dab hand at potions as I have already said, and one of the gentlest souls on earth. Her kindness was only matched by her fiery temper…" he trailed off, his voice heavy with emotion.

Harry looked up to see Slughorn holding the photograph as if it were the most precious thing in the world. Tears streamed down the older man's eyes as he stared at the picture of his former student. "She was the pinnacle of my career, the best of all of us. The happiest moments of my life were when I sat in on her and James' wedding and when I received a letter from her one day telling me that she was pregnant. She even sent my photos of her beautiful little boy… you, Harry," he whispered as his tear filled eyes turned to look at Harry. "Then that damned war took her away. It showed how evil this world we live in truly is. When the best of us is betrayed and then murdered in cold blood by a raging psychopath who has delusions of grandeur. That was the day I lost all hope, that was the day I retired my boy. Every Halloween people celebrate the fall of that sick man, but to me it is the worst day of my life," he finished bitterly.

Harry stared at the man as he came to terms with what he had just said. He had never heard someone speak so passionately about his mother before. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Sirius, and Remus spoke about her every now and then, but never like this. The man initially seemed a little too self-important for Harry's tastes, but none of that mattered now. He had never heard a person speak about Halloween in such a way before. Harry had never told anyone about his true feelings towards the day because he could never put them into words, but that is exactly what Slughorn just did. Harry felt a true connection with the old wizard, and now there was nothing he wanted to do more than get to know the man.

"Forgive an old man for getting emotional over the past," Slughorn said in a broken voice.

"There's nothing to forgive, sir," Harry replied as he gave the potions master a warm, genuine smile, "I've never heard anyone speak about my mother in that way, and it is nice to know there is another person in the world who hates Halloween just as much as I do," he chuckled darkly. "All that I know, sir, is that I don't think my mother would want you to burdened by your past and by her memory. I could tell by the way you spoke earlier that teaching was your passion and that you clearly loved your time at Hogwarts as a professor. I don't think you were very fair by denying yourself something you clearly loved. Just because we lost her doesn't mean everything ends in tragedy, it doesn't mean you have to give up. Potions has never been my favorite subject, but I think I could come to love it if you were teaching it, sir."

Before Harry could continue speaking, he was cut off by another voice re-entering the room, "Horace, thank you for allowing me to use the washroom. It appears I might have eaten a few too many lemon drops, Minerva always tells me that my sweet tooth will be the death of me some day," he joked. "Do you mind if I take this magazine with me as well, it had some interesting knitting patterns that I would like to try?"

"Yes, of course Albus," he answered absentmindedly, clearly not paying attention to what was going on around him.

"Ah, thank you very much. It was nice to stop by and visit, but I think it would be best if we were on our way Harry," he winked at Harry, "I wouldn't want the Weasley's worrying too much about where we have run off to," he continued as he led Harry back outside the house. "Harry I would like to thank you for what you said to Horace in there. My dear friend has never been the same since that fateful day, and I think speaking to you is the first step in his road to recovery. If I am not mistaken, which I rarely am, I believe the second step to his recovery will begin in about 3 seconds," he whispered.

Harry just rolled his eyes at the Headmaster's cheekiness, and as they continued down the path away from the house Harry counted down from three in his mind. When he hit zero, he wasn't surprised to hear the footsteps of a panting Horace Slughorn running down the path after them, "Alright, alright Albus! I'll do it!" he called out as he bent over his knees to catch his breath. "I'll come back to teach this year."

Dumbledore, ever the dramatic, feigned surprise, "Oh Horace, that is fantastic news! I was beginning to worry that I would have to go find Gilderoy and give him another go. Now that would have been an interesting year." Harry had to hold back the urge to snort after imagining what it would be like being taught potions by Lockhart. Especially the Gilderoy Lockhart who currently resided in the spell damage ward of St. Mungo's without any of his memories.

"Yes, yes, damn you. But before I return, I have some conditions that need to be met. I want my old classroom back, my usual prize for the first 6th year class, and Professor Ogden's old quarters… the big one not the smaller one," he demanded.

"Consider it done Horace. I'm sure you will be quite busy over the next few days packing up and getting your affairs in order, therefore I expect to be seeing you at the castle in a week's time," he replied without missing a beat. "Now I must bid you adieu old friend, as I must escort young Harry here before Molly calls the aurors." Immediately after Slughorn turned to return to his temporary hideout, Dumbledore gave Harry a subtle nod. Realizing what was coming next, Harry took a deep breath before grabbing hold of Dumbledore's arm and disappearing with a pop.

For the second time that evening, Harry ended up on his knees simultaneously trying to calm his stomach and regain his bearings. "I thought it would get better, but this time was way worse," Harry choked out.

"It will get easier over time, especially when you learn to do it by yourself. However, your discomfort this time around was due to traveling through wards. I had William aid me in setting up more secure protections around the Burrow in preparation of your arrival. If anybody not part of the Order attempted to apparate directly onto their property, they would meet a most unpleasant surprise," Dumbledore explained as he extended his wrinkled hand to help Harry up off of the ground. "There is one more matter I would like to speak to you about, thus I have taken the liberty of giving us a little bit of time before we arrive at the Weasley's lovely home."

Looking around for the first time since arriving, Harry recognized that they had apparated to the small pond near the Burrow where he, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the twins would occasionally go swimming on a hot day. It would give them at least 5 minutes to talk in private before reaching the house.

"Before we get onto the matter I wish to discuss, I first wanted to ask you how you are feeling about the prophecy," Dumbledore asked. Before Harry could respond, Dumbledore cut in again, "an honest response, Harry. I know you have a penchant to downplay your feelings on various matters."

Harry had to laugh at how well Dumbledore knew him, as he was about to simply dismiss the question all together. Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Harry steeled himself before answering, "Honestly, sir, I'm frightened. Not so much frightened of the man, given I have met with him... or a version of him several times over the past few years, but frightened of what happens when I finally do confront him. I am terrified that I will fail, and that my failure will lead to my friends dying and the entirety of magical Britain falling under his control. After seeing your duel with him at the Ministry, I just don't see how I will be prepared to fight him," Harry's head gradually lowered itself in shame over the course of his admission.

A sad smile crossed Dumbledore's face at hearing the truth behind the words of the brave young man who walked beside him, "There is no shame in how you feel, Harry. The task that has been given to you before you were even born is most unfair. It should never fall to somebody so young to fix the foolish mistakes of those who came before them, yet that is how it always seems to be. I know it appears impossible right now Harry, but never give up hope. I believe in you my boy. There is no single person, myself included, who I think has a better chance of accomplishing this task. Your resilience and ability to rise above adversity speaks for itself and given what I have recently observed of your abilities, I think you are well on your way in fulfilling the prophecy."

The words, whether they were true or not, still touched Harry. The impossible task of defeating Voldemort now only seemed improbable. It may not seem to be a lot, but to Harry it made all the difference, "Thank you, sir. Your words mean a lot," he smiled as he met Dumbledore's eyes.

"Now onto the matter I wished to discuss with you," Dumbledore continued, "I believe it is about time that I took a more direct role in your education." Seeing Harry's hopeful look, Dumbledore elaborated, "Despite your young age, you are mature beyond your years. I speak not only about who you are as a person, Harry, but magically as well. Despite the importance of our little adventure this evening, I had another reason for taking you out. Throughout the evening, I have been actively scanning your magic in order to finalize my decision of teaching you privately. My scans have shown that your magic has fully matured, which is most impressive seeing as my magic only fully matured a few years after graduating from Hogwarts."

Harry was slightly shocked at hearing this, "Sir, I don't really feel all that different. If my magic finally matured, wouldn't I have at least… noticed it?"

"Perhaps you might have, Harry, had you been regularly using your magic. But seeing as you spent your summer in a muggle area and you did not receive another ministry letter from Miss Hopkirk, then there was no way for you to notice. But now that it has, I will have no reason to hold back during our lessons. You have always had an abundance of power, but now you will find that casting comes more naturally. You will forge a more intimate bond with your own magic, silent casting will come easier, and you will gain a stronger sense of control. Your lessons will contain a little bit of everything, ranging from history and theory, to words of wisdom from myself, and of course practical work. I find myself looking forward to our time together this upcoming school year, my boy," the old man grinned. This was the most alive that Dumbledore looked all evening. His blue eyes twinkled behind the half-moon glasses that rested on his crooked nose, and there looked to be a little extra pep in his step as they approached the Weasley's home. It was obvious how much the man enjoyed teaching and passing on his wisdom to the next generation.

"I can hardly wait myself," Harry replied, not being able to control the full grin that was plastered across his face. This was what he was hoping for. This was what he needed. Hearing this made his future look that much brighter, it instilled more hope in the idea that he could one day defeat Voldemort. Harry could hardly wait to tell Ron and Hermio-

Not for the first time that evening, Dumbledore seemed to know exactly what Harry was thinking. "I do think it would be best if we kept the knowledge of our meetings private for the time being. As much as I know how much you trust your friends, and as much as I know how loyal they are to you, it is imperative that the list of those who know of our meetings be as small as possible. The same goes for what is learnt during our meetings." As Dumbledore said his, he stopped walking and turned to look at Harry. The look in Dumbledore's eyes showed how serious he was being. "I am confident in your abilities to come up with excuses for your absences, as I am sure you have managed to withhold information from them in the past. But from observing young Ronald and Miss Granger over the years, it would not surprise me if they found themselves occupied with more personal matters this year."

"I don't know professor, I think they'll be as old as you and still continue to dance around each other," Harry joked, causing Dumbledore to laugh along with him.

As they reached the end of the path and stood in front of the door to the Burrow, Dumbledore gently laid his gloved hand on Harry's shoulder, "I want you to remember Harry, that despite what the future holds for us, there will always be people who care for you. As silly as it sounds, love is our greatest weapon in this war, for love is the one thing that Tom Riddle can never understand. Do not fear love Harry, take the risk and when given the opportunity, embrace and cherish it with all your heart." Before Harry could question his words, Dumbledore had already reached out and knocked on the door.

Within seconds, the door burst open to reveal the motherly face of Molly Weasley with her hands on her hips, "Albus, you should know better. Taking the poor boy out so late at night, these are dark and dangerous times," she immediately scolded the headmaster as she led them both into the kitchen.

"I apologize Molly, in my advanced age time just seems to blur together," Dumbledore responded, playing the role of the forgetful old man that he had mastered over the years, "No need to worry now, Harry is here safe and sound," he added in order to soothe Molly's nerves. "Now as much as I would like to stay and chat, I have matters to attend to at the ministry. Have a goodnight Molly, Harry, and… Nymphadora," he spoke as he exited the house and disappeared into the night.

At hearing the last name, Harry quickly searched the Weasley's kitchen and found the pink haired auror wrapped up in what looked to be an oversized, worn-out brown trench coat, sitting at the end of the table with a cup of tea. Except this time her hair wasn't the usual pink, but more of a dull blue color. "Wotcher Harry," she greeted in a much more resigned tone than usual.

"Oh Harry dear, I hope those relatives of yours have been treating well," Mrs. Weasley cut in as she enveloped Harry in a large hug, before grabbing his face in her hands, "I still think you are much to skinny. We will have to fix that up before you head back off to Hogwarts. Come, have a seat and I'll give a bowl of the soup we had for supper," she instructed as she led him towards the kitchen table and handed him a piece of bread.

As Mrs. Weasley rushed over to prepare the bowl of soup for Harry, he looked back over to Tonks, "Hi Tonks!" he greeted back enthusiastically. After greeting her, Harry took a good look at her pretty heart-shaped face and noticed how tired she looked. Not only did she look tired, but she seemed to be missing her usual cheeriness, but most important of all… she didn't react when Dumbledore called her by her first name. Harry knew something was wrong. Not being one who usually enjoyed physical contact, Harry threw caution to the wind and engulfed his favorite auror in a hug.

Tonks froze for a second, before melting into the hug. It seemed almost as if she was clinging to Harry for dear life, as she rested her head on his shoulder and ran her hand through the back of his messy hair. They stayed that way for almost a minute until the clatter of the soup bowl being placed on the table broke them apart. "Thanks Harry, I really needed that," she sniffed as her hair flashed between its current dull blue and her usual hot pink.

"He meant a lot to both us," Harry replied thinking of Sirius, "we both loved him, and he loved us. He'd want both of us to be here for each other and to be happy," Harry choked with emotion.

Tonks gave small nod before giving Harry another quick hug. She lightened up slightly after his words and the hug, but something else also seemed to be weighing her down. Before Harry could ask her what else was wrong, Tonks was already on her way to the exit, "Thanks again Molly for taking me in unannounced and lending me your ear," she called to the Weasley matriarch.

"It was no problem dear," she responded kindly, "that is what we are all here for, to support one another. Whenever you are feeling down or just simply want somebody to talk to, I am always available."

"Seeya around Harry, I've missed ya," she parted before leaving the Burrow.

"Poor girl has had a rough few months," Mrs. Weasley spoke aloud to herself. "Anyways Harry dear, I expect you to finish up that soup and then you can head up to Ronald's room. I had him take your things up there before he went to bed, I think your owl is somewhere around here as well. You don't mind sharing with Ron do you?" she asked.

"No, it is totally fine Mrs. Weasley," he replied between spoonful's.

"It's Molly, dear. I've been telling you that for years," she mock scolded him as she headed to the stairs. "You can put the bowl in the sink when you're done, have a goodnight Harry."

Hearing the door close as Mrs. Weasley entered her room, Harry finished the last of his soup. It was delicious, just like all of Molly's cooking. Putting away his bowl, Harry started the long climb up to Ron's room. He passed Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's room, he passed Ginny's room, he passed the twin's and Percy's open rooms, and then he passed Bill and Charlies old room which was closed for some reason. Not thinking too much on it, Harry finally made it to Ron's room and opened the door quietly. The moment it opened, he was assaulted with the sound of Ron's snoring. Harry couldn't help but smirk at his sleeping friend, this was certainly something he had not missed while living at the Dursley's. Carefully he made his way to the bed they had set up for him, before collapsing into it. It had been a long and exhausting day, which was why he fell asleep the moment his head touched the pillow.

AN

Here it is, the first chapter, I hope you enjoyed.