Year 5-12: Exit Strategies

BONES FIRED; DUMBLEDORE QUESTIONED IN WAKE OF HOGSMEADE INCIDENT

By Regina Hornsby, The Daily Prophet

"The wizarding world has been in disarray following the news of a horde of dementors attacking Hogsmeade Village two days ago. Hundreds of defenseless students from nearby Hogwarts School were visiting the village that day, and were placed in grave danger by the dangerous creatures.

In a press conference held early Monday morning, Minister Cornelius Fudge announced the sacking of Amelia Bones, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Bones held the position for 11 years prior to this weekend, when she was widely criticized for her failure to maintain control of the dementors that ran amok Saturday afternoon.

'I am appalled that our children were placed in such irreversible danger as they were on Saturday,' said a furious Lucius Malfoy in a statement to the Prophet. 'The fact that any single dementor, let alone hundreds should be allowed so near to a school is unthinkable. It speaks to widespread disorganization and neglect within our Ministry that needs addressing straight away. I am glad that the appropriate parties were dealt with so that something like this can never happen again.'

Madam Bones could not be reached for comment. However, Head Auror James Potter spoke up in defense of the disgraced witch in a statement of his own:

'I had the great pleasure of working alongside Madam Bones for well over a decade,' said Potter. 'She served her nation with distinction and does not deserve to be thrown under the bus for this heinous incident.' [Editor's note: Potter's full statement has been redacted for repeating the widely-debunked conspiracy theory that You-Know-Who is still at-large in Britain.]

The Auror Department has also come under fire for its slow response time to Saturday's attack. Eyewitnesses report that several buildings in the wizarding village had burned down prior to the Aurors' arrival, and it is a miracle that nobody suffered a Dementor's Kiss in their absence. The department has been a magnet for controversy since Potter took over the post last summer, and it once again calls into question his leadership ability in such turbulent times.

Much of the blame for the damage done to the village seems to rest with Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, who controversially summoned Fiendfyre in a desperate attempt to repel the dementors. Fiendfyre is an extremely volatile and dangerous piece of Dark magic that seeks to consume everything in its path, including its caster, and sources indicate that Dumbledore nearly succumbed to the spell himself before being subdued.

Can we really trust Albus Dumbledore to keep our children safe after so many near-misses? He remains under investigation for several gruesome events in the last half-decade, including the murders of three former staff members. See pg. 11 for more, as the Prophet is eager to share several reader letters sharing their own opinions about the once-great man in charge of our children."

Harry shook his head in disbelief as he folded his copy of the Prophet. He had to hand it to Lucius Malfoy: the dementor attack had been a master stroke of politicking for Voldemort's camp. Not only did it help cast more public doubt on both James and Dumbledore, it also served as the perfect cover story for the Azkaban break-out, which was reported on as just a minor side-effect of the incident. Harry had to rifle through to the second-to-last page of the Sunday edition to even find a mention of the escapees, who supposedly overpowered the human guards on their own and fled to the continent.

The only consolation was that James (and Dumbledore) still appeared to be untouchable for the moment. Perhaps this incident had been concocted as a way to get his father fired at last, but it seems that Fudge was still unable to be rid of him and had to go after a lesser target (Amelia Bones) instead. James must still have enough public goodwill that Fudge couldn't risk firing him, and Harry suspected that enough parents still respected Dumbledore's abilities to keep the Headmaster employed for the moment.

Harry knew that the best thing he could do to help was keep a low profile. It was more obvious now than ever that Malfoy and Fudge were seeking any excuse to get the two leaders of the Light movement out of their way. He could not afford to make things worse for his father by getting himself in even more trouble. And as ambivalent as Harry felt about Dumbledore, he knew that the Headmaster's presence in the castle was the one thing keeping Voldemort at bay, and could not afford to threaten his job either.

Harry finished his breakfast and headed off for his first class of the day. But as he exited the Great Hall, he drew exactly the kind of attention he hoped to avoid.

"Off to have a good cry, are you, Potter?"

Harry wheeled around; Draco Malfoy was strutting in his direction, a posse of Slytherins around him. "Malfoy," he said brusquely, before turning to leave again.

"Why the long face, Potter?" Draco sneered. "Dementors snatch your soul last weekend? Or are you feeling guilty for snatching your girlfriend's soul?"

The Slytherins chuckled at this quip. Somehow, the news of Harry and Katie's break-up was widely known by now, and it was somehow even more gossiped about than the dementor attack.

"Couldn't help but notice I saw none of you in the village that day," Harry remarked. "Not fond of Hogsmeade, are we?"

"Maybe we're just more practical than you are," Draco smirked. "We decided to stay in, since we heard it was going to be rather...chilly that day."

Harry laughed hollowly at this. Of course Draco would have received forewarning from his father not to come to Hogsmeade, on the day Voldemort planned his attack. All of the children of Death Eaters likely received the same heads-up, ensuring that none of them would be subject to an accidental Dementor's Kiss.

"Feeling bold now, are we?" Harry scoffed. "You think your father has things all under control? He's just a puppet for a man who's far more powerful than he is."

"Fudge?" Malfoy guffawed. "My father's been playing the Minister like a fiddle for years."

"You know I wasn't talking about Fudge," Harry said in a low tone. The surrounding Slytherins looked briefly nervous by the clear insinuation.

"Clever, are we, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "Then you ought to know that nobody stands a chance against my father's master. And you ought to think twice before bad-mouthing him or anyone who stands beside him."

Harry laughed openly at this empty threat. But before he could retort, another voice entered the fray.

"Piss off, Malfoy!" a voice shouted, as Damian Dursley came up to defend his cousin. "No one wants to listen to your rubbish today!"

"Ooh, the Mudblood wants to play!" Draco laughed tauntingly. But his cocky grin was wiped away by Harry's wand, which was drawn in an instant and pointed between the blonde boy's eyes.

"I've told you not to use that word around me," Harry said coolly. "Apologize."

Draco's mates oohed mockingly at Harry's demand. Draco himself laughed, but Harry saw the sudden fear in the boy's eyes, eyeing his wand cautiously. He was one of the few students who knew exactly what Harry was capable of with it.

"You want me to say sorry?" Draco asked, as he slowly backed away into the safety of the group. "Fine. Sorry, Dursley, that your parents did a rubbish job raising you."

Harry felt a strong urge to hex Draco into next month for his vile rhetoric. But a sizable crowd had amassed around them now, and he knew he would only get in deep trouble if he made any kind of move against the boy. Besides, he could feel Damian simmering with rage beside him, and knew the younger boy was prone to a more physical style of violence if he didn't deescalate the situation quickly.

"Watch your back, Malfoy," Harry said warningly. And he stowed his wand away, grabbing Damian by the shoulder and steering him down the hall, ignoring the mocking laughter and taunts following them.

"You could've kicked his arse back there!" Damian said as soon as they rounded the corner. "Malfoy would have been a stain on the wall so quick! Why didn't you hex him?"

"He's not worth it," Harry muttered. "Besides, he wants me to attack him so he has an excuse to run off to his father and complain."

"Hmph," Damian snorted unhappily. "I shoulda pummeled him with my bare fists. How dare he talk about my parents that way?"

"He's good at getting under people's skin," Harry agreed, remembering how Malfoy had talked about his mother and sister during their last Quidditch match. "Best to just ignore it and let him run out of steam on his own."

"All the same," Damian grumbled, cracking his knuckles menacingly. "I'd like to show a smarmy git like him how we settle things in the Muggle world."

"I would pay to see that," Harry chuckled appreciatively. He did wonder how Draco might react to getting bloodied up in such a manner – the closest he'd ever seen to it was in his original third year, when Hermione open-palm smacked him across the face. The mental image of Damian walloping the blonde prick without abandon gave him a sense of morbid glee.

Such daydreams would have to be the only satisfaction he got out of the situation. He was being watched too closely, with Percy seemingly appearing at random as he traversed the halls between classes. He could also feel the eyes of his fellow students following him everywhere, could hear the whispers behind his back as his passed by. Word of his heroics in the village were widespread by now, and coupled with what Dahlia told him the previous week, he could feel his legend steadily growing within the student population. Harry still felt uncomfortable being deified by his peers, but it at least kept them from pestering him.

And to think that three days prior, his biggest concern was breaking up with a girl! How quickly a single weekend could change one's priorities. He caught only glimpses of Katie over the coming weeks, and while she still avoided his gaze, she did look somewhat cheerier and more like her old self than before. Harry still felt badly about how things had ended between them, but took solace in knowing that he'd made the right decision. The events at Hogsmeade only reinforced that idea...dating was a luxury he couldn't afford at the moment.

Despite the increased scrutiny upon him, Harry knew that the defense meetings would be more crucial than ever. With more Death Eaters on the loose, and a Voldemort who had proven a willingness to endanger student lives, he had to make sure the other students could look out for themselves. This was clearly a sentiment held by many, as he was bombarded once more by requests for information about the next meeting.

This included a few new surprise recruits. Harry departed his sixth-year Transfiguration lesson one afternoon, only for Mark Davis to chase after him. "Hey Potter, got a minute?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure," said Harry, following him to a quiet alcove. "By the way, I never got the chance to thank you. Dahlia told me you may have saved some lives in Hogsmeade last weekend."

"Not nearly as many as you saved," Mark shrugged. "I did what I could. And that's actually what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh?"

Mark glanced around to make sure they weren't being overheard. "Is your invite still open?" he asked quietly. "To join the defense club?"

"Erm...yeah, I guess," said Harry. "Why the change of heart?"

"I guess the war never really felt...real before last weekend," Mark admitted. "I assumed we'd be insulated from it while at school, but clearly I was wrong."

"It may not be the last time," Harry said grimly. "I've lost pretty much all faith in Dumbledore to keep students safe on his own."

"I'm of the same mind," Mark sighed. "And so are Tracey and Daphne. D'you think they could come, too?"

"I don't see why not," Harry shrugged. "There aren't many Slytherins in the club, but I don't see it being a problem."

"Great, thanks," Mark grinned. "And sorry about what the Prophet's been saying about your father. Not everyone in Slytherin thinks the Potters are rubbish."

"You're just cleverer about keeping your opinions to yourselves," Harry scoffed.

Mark look briefly alarmed by this quip. "I didn't mean to say…" he stammered. "Of course there's no excuse for silence...just a matter of discretion—"

"It wasn't an insult," Harry reassured him. "I don't expect you to pledge loyalty to me and my dad or anything. I know Daphne's family in particular would face serious repercussions for that."

"Indeed," Mark muttered. "It's getting scary in the Slytherin common room, to be honest. Lines are being drawn, and I'm worried about planting my flag and drawing attention to myself."

"I get it," Harry nodded. "Do what you have to do to protect yourself. As long as you aren't actively working against the cause."

"I would never!" Mark protested. "My granddad's a Muggle-born – we were raised to reject bigotry in all forms."

"Good to hear," Harry nodded. "Anyway, the next meeting's on Wednesday at eight. Seventh floor, opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. And try not to be seen by anybody."

"Don't you worry about that," Mark chuckled as he turned to leave. "Believe it or not, we snakes know a thing or two about being sneaky."

Harry believed Mark, and certainly thought he was trustworthy. All the same, he was beginning to worry about the secrecy of the club. With so many members from every House, it was becoming more and more likely that someone accidentally got caught – especially with Percy beginning to actively suspect something was awry. What would the repercussions be if Harry was exposed as the mastermind behind these illegal meetings? Would Percy be able to spin it into an expulsion-worthy infraction? Given the thin ice Harry was already on, it seemed entirely possible.

But the meetings were simply too important to neglect, so the following Wednesday, Harry checked the Map to see if the coast was clear. He was unsurprised to see that it was not – Percy was loitering at the base of the Astronomy Tower, having pinpointed it as the most likely location of these illicit meetings. Luckily, Harry had foreseen such an obstacle, and instructed everyone to use the secret passageway bypassing the main entrance to the tower and coming out very close to the entrance of the Room.

When Harry arrived for the meeting, he was met with easily the largest group they'd seen yet. Apparently Neville and Hermione had been actively recruiting more people, and now nearly fifty students of all Houses and grade levels stared expectantly back at him. Harry saw the look of reverence in their eyes, viewing him not as a peer, but as a leader. He hated that feeling.

"Neville," he said once the room had quieted down some. "Why don't you lead things to start out? I reckon people here want to practice their Patronus Charm."

Many nodded vehemently in agreement...the dementor attack had clearly left many feeling rattled. Neville tentatively stepped forward as Harry blended into the crowd to listen to his instructions. Neville was gaining more confidence now, speaking with authority on the subject and receiving rapt attention from the others. That was a good start – Harry eventually wanted them to look to Neville for leadership, not him.

And his improvement was paying dividends. Over the subsequent half-hour, four new students successfully conjured a Patronus. Hermione squealed with delight when a silver otter emerged from her wand; Mark Davis summoned a wolf; and Dahlia succeeded in producing a silver doe, tears of joy streaming down her face as she watched it prance elegantly around the room. Most surprising of all was Damian Dursley, among the youngest in the group, who conjured a massive hippogriff, strutting proudly overhead and flapping its wings as students applauded the young boy's feat.

"Alright, gather round!" Harry announced once the four spectral creatures had dissipated into mist. "We've practiced endurance, accuracy, and flexibility in past meetings. Today, we're going to be putting it all together with a proper duel."

The room immediately began buzzing excitedly at this prospect. This was what they'd all envisioned these meetings to be: learning how to fight via more conventional tactics. Harry took control of the Room and caused a wide dueling arena to appear at the center of the room, as students began shuffling around the edge to get a good look.

"Any volunteers for our first demonstration?" Harry asked.

"Right here!" exclaimed Fred Weasley, stepping forward into the ring. The crowd oohed appreciatively at his boldness – nobody else was eager to face Harry. Harry noticed the wink Fred gave to his twin brother, and wondered if he had something up his sleeve. He was confident he could beat Fred, but worried what the trickster might have in store for him.

"Very well," said Harry, taking his place across the ring from Fred. "Ready?"

"Nowhere to run, Potter," Fred grinned, echoing their duel three years earlier in the Dueling Club. Only this time the roles were reversed – both parties knew Harry had the upper hand, and Fred's taunt was more mirthful than malicious. Harry grinned back at the quip.

"Three, two, one, begin!" Harry announced.

Fred launched immediately into an offensive assault, flinging a variety of spells Harry's way. Harry elegantly dodged and Shielded them all, noting with amusement that Fred was mixing in several elementary jinxes – Tickling Charms, Hair-Coloring Hexes and the like.

"I'm almost insulted that you think you can beat me with such juvenile spells," Harry taunted the older boy.

"Punish me for it, then!" Fred laughed, clearly unrepentant.

"As you wish," Harry said with a mock bow. And he launched into his own offensive, flinging spells with dizzying speed at the redhead. To his credit, Fred did not go down easily; the conditioning Harry put everyone through paid off, allowing him to spin and roll away from the spells he was unable to Shield directly.

But there were flaws in Fred's technique. Harry conjured two stone walls on either side of him to limit Fred's movement, then focused his efforts into the narrow alley he'd created. Fred fought valiantly to the end, ducking, dodging and Shielding as quickly as possible, until he was forced to block a spell to his right while a Stunner slipped through his defenses to his left—

Except that wasn't what happened. Fred's left forearm suddenly glowed a brilliant blue as he lifted it in front of his head and blocked the Stunner without his wand. Harry paused, dumbfounded, as the students whooped appreciatively at the showy display.

"Shield Bracelets!" Fred announced, proudly displaying the yellow band dangling loosely on the wrist of his off-hand. "Can block most spells, and lasts for as many as ten uses before needing a recharge."

"Now on sale with Weasleys' Wizarding Wares!" announced George dramatically, stepping into the ring himself and brandishing several more bands over his head.

"Brilliant!" Harry laughed, stepping forward towards the twins, all pretense of the duel dropped. He took one from George and examined it; the band looked innocuous enough, like what Muggles might wear to a music festival, but he could sense the powerful enchantments woven into it, and immediately saw the potential in its use.

"They're five Galleons apiece, or three for the price of two!" Fred announced to the room. "We're open to negotiating if you're hard up on cash, but these took a long time to make."

"I'll cover anyone who doesn't have the cash," Harry promised. "Do you have enough for everyone?"

"Almost," said George, pulling out a book bag that was apparently full of the bracelets. "There are more people here than we expected, but we can finish the rest in a week or two."

"Hand them out," said Harry. "New plan: we're going to spend today learning how to use them effectively."

Everyone excitedly gathered around to accept a bracelet of their own. Harry then directed the group to pair off for practice duels, with the Weasley twins providing a brief demonstration of how they'd learned to utilize the bands in combat. Harry provided a few pointers of his own, utilizing his own movement- and agility-based combat style to make the bands even more effective, then set the pairs off on their own to experiment and report back on what worked.

The bands proved to be an instant hit with the students. At first, most of the activations were accidental, with students looking surprised when their band saved them from a spell slipping through. But over time they learned to use them more deliberately; Harry and Cedric had a memorable duel that saw the older boy intentionally drop his Shield Charm to fire a surprise counter-attack in the middle of Harry's offensive. It was an exciting session that saw plenty of feedback about potential creative uses for the new technology, and Harry's mind was abuzz with possibilities with such a powerful tool.

Harry dismissed the group soon after, with many approaching the Weasley twins to pay up for their bracelets. All in all, Harry was out nearly a hundred Galleons covering for the students who lacked the funds to pay for their own. It dried up most of the money he'd been saving up over the years from various holiday and birthday presents from his family and surrogate uncles – he'd have to find a way to replenish those funds sometime soon.

"Thanks for the invite, Potter," said Daphne Greengrass, as she and Tracey Davis approached after the meeting. "I wasn't sure if we'd still be welcome here."

"Why wouldn't you be?" Harry frowned.

"Slytherin has been isolating itself a lot more recently," Daphne sighed. "With Draco and his lot running things, there's an expectation to fall into line and not fraternize with the other Houses. I wasn't sure if we were giving off that impression."

"Well, so far so good," Harry reasoned, looking around the room; none of the other students appeared perturbed by the Slytherins' presence. "Keep coming to meetings and working hard and that shouldn't be an issue."

"You aren't telling anybody we're here, right?" asked Daphne anxiously. "It could seriously jeopardize things for my family if people knew we were part of your little army."

"It's not an army," Harry corrected her swiftly. "Just a study group, right? And trust me, the repercussions would be just as bad for me and my family if word got out, if not worse."

"True," Daphne shrugged. "But thanks anyway."

"No problem," said Harry. "Where's Mark, by the way?"

"Making new friends, by the looks of things," Tracey smirked, motioning over to the corner. Mark was chatting casually with Dahlia, who was laughing a little too loudly at whatever he was saying to her.

What's this about, then? Harry grumbled internally. Can't she settle on one guy, for Merlin's sake? Mark Davis was certainly a step up from Cormac McLaggen, he had to admit, but come on!

"Not thinking about hexing my cousin, I hope?" Tracey asked, reading his expression perfectly. "He was raised to be a perfect gentleman to girls, you know."

"I'm not worried about Mark," Harry grimaced. "Dahlia can take care of herself."

"We overheard her chewing out McLaggen last week in the hall," Tracey giggled. "She really gave it to him...I've never seen him look so timid and small."

"Serves him right," Daphne added. "Cormac took Flora Carrow to the Yule Ball last year, and she had a really bad time. He was apparently a terrible date."

"Speaking of which," Tracey smirked, "rumor has it you're back on the market, Potter. Got your eye on anybody at the mo'?"

"Definitely not," said Harry. "I need a break from relationships for a while. Got too much to worry about."

"Who said anything about relationships?" Tracey winked. "I know plenty of girls around here who would love to take you for a spin, no strings attached."

"Ugh, Tracey, not so loud," Daphne cringed. "That's inappropriate!"

"Sorry to offend your pure-blood sensibilities," Tracey grinned. "I forgot you won't even consider romance unless it comes with a notarized marriage contract."

"That's not true!" Daphne protested, red-faced, as both Tracey and Harry laughed. "I just...think it's improper to talk about in polite company!"

"Don't worry, Daph, this is a safe space," Harry grinned. "I won't tell a soul if you want to take some lowly half-blood for a 'spin'." Tracey cackled at this as Daphne reddened even further.

The Room began to empty soon after, with Harry directing students to exit in small groups as he consulted the Marauder's Map to ensure their safe passage back to the common rooms. Soon it was just Harry, Neville, Ron and Hermione left behind, all in relatively good spirits.

"Bloody hell, I feel like I could take on a whole Death Eater army after that!" Ron said gleefully, mimicking his dodging and ducking around the obstacle course.

"Careful what you wish for," Harry said somberly. "It's one thing in practice, and another when you're actually facing down Unforgivables from someone who wants you dead."

"Yeah, I know," Ron huffed, still mime-dueling with nobody in particular. "It's still fun to imagine roundhouse-kicking Malfoy's dad in the face, innit?"

"Can't argue with that," Harry grinned. He turned to Neville, frowning. "Everything alright, Nev?"

"Yeah, fine," Neville muttered – clearly a lie. His eyes were closed as he leaned against the far wall, massaging his temple just over his scar.

"You haven't told us much about your Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape," said Hermione worriedly. "Have they been going alright?"

"They aren't helping much," Neville said bitterly. "I mean, I'm getting better at keeping Snape out, thanks to what Harry taught me, but it's useless against Voldemort. It's like...the intrusion is coming from within my mind, not outside of it."

Harry knew full well what he meant. The horcrux was a part of him, after all, so any 'intrusion' from Voldemort would feel almost indistinguishable to his own emotions.

"Are you still dreaming about the Department of Mysteries?" Harry asked.

"Every night," Neville nodded. "I'm getting closer and closer to my goal, in this big cathedral full of high shelves, but whenever I get to the correct row I wake up again."

"Listen, Neville," said Harry in a dire tone. "You have to promise me you won't go to the Department under any circumstances."

"Why would I?" Neville asked, confused. "I know he needs me to get the prophecy. I would never help him get it."

"He might try to coerce you," said Harry. "Or trick you into thinking you have to go there. He's a powerful Legilimens, and might try to implant false memories and images to make you believe it's a matter of life or death."

Neville studied Harry curiously at this odd warning. "Why wouldn't Dumbledore warn me about that, if that was a real concern?" he asked.

Why indeed? Harry thought bitterly to himself. He certainly wouldn't have minded a heads-up himself in his previous timeline. "Dunno...just a thought," he said evasively. "How's your Gran doing, by the way? Do you keep in constant contact with her?"

"Sure, she writes every once in a while," Neville shrugged. "Why do you ask?"

"Find a way to keep in touch with her," Harry suggested. "In a more immediate way than by owl. If something goes wrong – if one of you gets put in danger – it might be essential to be able to reach each other quickly."

"You think my Gran might be in danger?" Neville asked, wide-eyed. "Our home is heavily warded against intruders."

"Just a hunch," Harry shrugged. "I'm just saying, if you think Voldemort is using her as bait, don't believe it right away. It might be a trick."

"That's oddly specific," Ron muttered thoughtfully. "You think You-Know-Who would concoct something that sinister?"

"Harry's hunches are usually correct," Hermione pointed out. "I've actually been working on something that could help you, Neville."

Hermione dug into her bag and pulled out two identical pieces of fresh parchment. Harry felt a tug on his magic, and he allowed her to take control of the Room to conjure a table and a pot of ink.

"I got the idea from Tom Riddle's diary," Hermione admitted. "The pages are linked together by magic, so if you write a message on one, it'll appear on the other for about a minute before disappearing. You can communicate back and forth instantly with anyone who has the other sheet."

"That's brilliant, Hermione," said Harry, as he watched her demonstrate by writing 'Test' on one sheet, which then appeared on the other. "It's like Muggle instant messaging."

"Insta-what?" said Ron. "Anyway, that's bloody awesome! Imagine having those in History of Magic lessons, to chat with your mates while Binns is droning on about goblin accords."

"It's not for goofing off with friends, Ronald!" Hermione chastised him. "Like Harry said, communication is key in dangerous situations, and this should be used only for emergencies."

"Can you make more of these?" Harry asked her eagerly.

"I think so," Hermione shrugged. "It's tricky, but I'm getting better with the Protean Charm. I still haven't figured out how to make it work with three or more linked sheets."

"Talk to Fred and George," Harry suggested. "They're pretty innovative with charms like that. This is really remarkable, 'Mione, honestly."

"Okay, I think I will!" Hermione beamed. Harry was all too happy to foster and encourage his friends' innovation, which might prove key to winning the upcoming war. Hermione and the Weasley twins may be relatively young, but they'd already found clever solutions to problems that the wizarding world hadn't addressed in centuries. That was the benefit of taking inspiration from the Muggle world rather than dismiss it out of hand, he supposed.

The winter snow on the castle grounds began to melt as spring approached, and with it, the mood of the student population seemed to steadily improve. The dementor attack had been a frightening and traumatic experience for many, but the warmer weather and relative peace that followed really boosted morale. Furthermore, students were improving dramatically in defense lessons, and Harry was able to take more and more of a back seat and let others dictate the pace for themselves.

That allowed Harry to look ahead to the future once more. Spring break was approaching, and he'd confirmed plans with Bill and Saul to investigate the Gaunt shack while he was away from school. The thought of finding another horcrux was an enticing prospect, and he finally felt that he was making real progress towards defeating Voldemort. With a little luck, they might successfully find and destroy all the horcruxes before the war officially began.

Springtime also brought a unique experience for fifth-years: Career Advice, with each student meeting with their Head of House to discuss their future. As much as Harry respected and admired Professor McGonagall, he was pleased now to have Flitwick as his mentor, whose enthusiasm for teaching and counseling students was infectious. He headed straight to Flitwick's office for his scheduled meeting after lunch on Thursday.

"Come in, Harry, come in!" Flitwick said, beaming at him. Harry took a seat, scanning the room subconsciously as he did so. He half-expected Percy to be standing in the corner, prepared to bad-mouth his hopes and aspirations like Umbridge had, but fortunately they were alone.

"Now," said Flitwick, hopping up into his chair, "this is the part where I'm supposed to assess your scholastic progress and give you guidance on your future. However, your grades are exemplary, and I have no doubt that you will find success in whatever enterprise you pursue after graduation."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said, inclining his head.

"There is the small matter of your Defense Against the Dark Arts marks," Flitwick muttered, referring to a piece of parchment on his desk that Harry supposed contained his grades. "You are scraping by with an 'Acceptable' in Professor Weasley's class, and his student notes do not paint you in a very forgiving light. But given the...extenuating circumstances and your continued excellence in practical exams, I do not worry that you are in danger of failing your N.E.W.T. next year."

Harry chuckled at this – it was the closest Flitwick would ever get to bad-mouthing another teacher. Percy was clearly disliked by the majority of students and staff, though none of the latter would ever admit as much.

"I do wonder what career path you have in mind," Flitwick asked, peering curiously at Harry. "You have the marks to do just about anything. What is it you want for your future, Harry?"

Harry considered this. He hadn't envisioned anything in his future besides Voldemort for a very long time. What did he want for his future?

"I suppose I plan on becoming an Auror," Harry said. "With the war coming on, it seems only right to join the cause."

"Even if war does come to Britain once more," said Flitwick cautiously, "it will not last forever. I understand that you may wish to follow in your father's footsteps, but have you considered any other options?"

Harry thought about it. "Curse-breaking did seem interesting to me," he admitted.

"Ah," said Flitwick sagely. "A dangerous undertaking, but a rewarding one. I take it you know Bill Weasley, then? He is the last student I mentored who went into the profession."

"Yes," Harry nodded. "What N.E.W.T.'s would I need for it?"

"Defense, Charms, Transfiguration and Ancient Runes are a must," said Flitwick. "Potions is also recommended, as it can be important to know the antidotes to various curses. Arithmancy is often a prerequisite as well, in order to understand the underlying principles of ward matrices and curse construction, but with independent study I think you could do without."

"That's good," Harry sighed with relief. He hated Arithmancy, but he hated the idea of limiting his career options even more.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Harry," said Flitwick slowly. "But I worry about your penchant for seeking out trouble. I would hate to see one of my most gifted students in decades get cut down in his youth by over-exposing himself to danger."

"Someone has to do it," Harry shrugged. "It's a noble enough cause, isn't it?"

Flitwick nodded slowly. "Did you know I became a hit-wizard after graduation?" he said. When Harry shook his head in surprise, he continued: "I was itching for action, and jumped into the first gig that promised plenty of it. I spent three years chasing dangerous Dark witches and wizards across Europe and the Americas. Then I had my accident."

"Accident?"

Flitwick unbuttoned the top of his shirt and pulled it aside, revealing a jagged purple scar across his collarbone. "I got cocky," he sighed. "I dropped my guard during a routine arrest, and nearly got decapitated for it. If my partner hadn't deflected the worst of the blow, I would not be here right now."

"Is that when you decided to get into teaching?" Harry asked.

"Surprisingly, no," Flitwick chuckled. "I took a desk job at the Ministry, mostly to appease my mother who was worried sick. But I still had the itch, so I took up dueling in my spare time."

"As a hobby?" Harry asked.

"Actually, I made more money from dueling than my day job," Flitwick grinned. "There are sanctioned tournaments all over Europe, some offering up to thousands of Galleons in reward. I'm also not proud to say I sought out a few underground fighting rings, and saw some grisly fights there, but by-and-large it was a much safer outlet for me to find trouble with."

"Is dueling something you can do full-time?" Harry asked, suddenly intrigued.

"Some have, and I briefly considered it," Flitwick conceded. "I would not recommend it, as it involves constant travel and an intense physical regimen. But I hope to impress upon you that you don't have to throw yourself into deadly traps to express your talents...whatever you choose to do, you could always duel on the side for some extra income and life experiences."

"Huh," Harry said, mulling this over quietly to himself. Flitwick didn't know it, but Harry had recently been mulling over how to make some quick money for himself. He envisioned a near future in which he would need to leave the safety of his parents' home, and having gold of his own would help him achieve his own goals before the war was over. Was dueling the answer?

"I also believe you would make a tremendous teacher one day," Flitwick continued as Harry pondered in silence. "Not any time soon, mind...you deserve to go out and see what the world has to offer you first. But perhaps decades from now, if you decide to truly settle down as I did, Hogwarts can be a permanent home for you."

Harry quite liked the sound of that idea, actually. Hogwarts was and always would be his true home, even though he had grown quite fond of Godric's Hollow as of late. He did enjoy leading defense meetings and knew he could command the attention and respect of those younger than him. Perhaps the ever-fluctuating DADA post could be his for good one day.

"In any case," Flitwick said to fill the contemplative silence, "you don't have to decide anything now. If you continue on your current path, you should have plenty of options open to you. And I hope if you do take my advice, you'll consider calling upon a former dueling champion for mentorship."

"You would help me prepare for duels?" Harry asked.

"It would be my great pleasure," Flitwick beamed at him. "Not that you need all that much help. I suspect you could enter a tournament today and advance quite far as is...not that I would encourage such foolishness, of course."

"I appreciate that, Professor," Harry said, standing to offer his hand. "I might just do that."

"I look forward to the day," Flitwick said, shaking Harry's hand eagerly.

Harry left Flitwick's office in a contemplative mood. Harry had already begun scheming more illicit means of amassing wealth for himself if the necessity arose. He figured it would be trivial to Apparate into a Muggle bank and make off with thousands of pounds, and no one would directly suffer from the crime. Entering a dueling contest underage was likely illegal in itself, but he could get around that easily enough with glamours. Was that something he could pursue over the summer?

Harry couldn't shake the feeling that his days at Hogwarts were limited. Aside from preparing his fellow students, he felt that his time was not best spent here, that he needed to spread his wings and spend more time in the real world. He was quickly approaching the point where books and lectures could not teach him as well as real-life experiences could.

Problem was, he didn't trust Dumbledore to keep his friends and family safe in his absence. Nobody had been looking out for Harry in his last timeline, after all, and it cost him his life. So he had to make sure contingency plans were in place in case something bad were to happen and Harry wasn't around to save the day yet again.

On the last day before break, Harry spotted Cedric chatting with some friends in the hall and decided to put such plans in action. "Hey, Ced!" Harry called after him. "Got a minute?"

"Yeah," said Cedric, following Harry to a more secluded spot. "Everything alright?"

"Brilliant," Harry lied coolly. "I need to ask you a favor."

"Sure, what's up?"

"I have a bad feeling that something like what happened at Hogsmeade might happen again," Harry muttered in an undertone so he wouldn't be overheard.

"You think students will be attacked again?" asked Cedric, looking troubled.

"Maybe, maybe not. But if anything like that ever happens again, I need you to watch out for Neville."

Cedric frowned. "Why him in particular?" he asked.

"It's...complicated," Harry muttered. "But Voldemort is trying to lure him away from the castle. Just find him if anything bad happens and don't let him do anything stupid."

"Alright, I guess I can do that," Cedric frowned. "What about you?"

"I might not always be around when things go wrong," Harry shrugged. "And if I am, I have Dahlia to worry about first and foremost. I'm just making sure all my bases are covered, that's all."

"Yeah, sure, I hear you," Cedric nodded. "You all right, Harry? You've been on-edge all year."

"Just under a lot of stress," Harry muttered. "It helps knowing that the people I care about are being looked after."

"I get that," said Cedric. "Easy to forget sometimes, being an only child. And Damian's like a little brother to me – you know I'll do anything to keep him safe as well."

"Glad to hear it," Harry said. "Let's just hope nothing else happens and this is all moot."

"Amen to that."

Harry felt slightly better knowing that Neville had people watching him when he could not. Mark Davis had his eye on the boy in the dorms; Ron and Hermione were with him during meals and classes; and now Cedric provided an additional security blanket. Harry couldn't be around 24/7 to make sure Neville didn't get himself into more trouble, and Merlin knows he didn't trust Dumbledore for the task.

Harry could see the war looming large on the horizon – it beckoned to him, urged him to leave the safety of Hogwarts and do what he could to bring the fight to Voldemort. The best thing he could do now was make sure the other students at Hogwarts had the tools to defend themselves in his absence.

A/N: I need to vent for a minute here. Every week I post a new chapter and get an influx of comments on the latest update, which is always lovely and I appreciate hearing your feedback. However, I also get a wave of new readers who start the story from the beginning, which leads to more hateful comments on the admittedly-rocky start to the fic. I was planning on waiting until the end of Year Five to address this, but I have to do something about it now. Not only is it a drain on my mental health to get so much vitriol in my inbox every week, but I hate the idea of turning new readers away so early into the story when I'm quite proud of where things are heading now.

So I'm going to take a week or two off from updating to go back and overhaul the first 2-3 years of the fic to make it more appealing to new readers. I'm not planning on any massive changes – just minor tweaks to make Harry more active and less prone to dumb, rash decision-making. I'll let you all know if anything changes that fundamentally alters the plot, but I'll endeavor to make it so nobody will have to go back and re-read to know what's going on. If anyone has thoughts on things you wish had gone differently in the early chapters, I'm open to suggestions!

Thanks for your patience, and please continue leaving feedback as we continue – good or bad. I do read every comment and try to incorporate constructive criticism into my process as best I can. Just please choose kindness if you dislike something about the story...I am still human and don't enjoy being called a sh*t writer on a weekly basis!