"Ministry of Magic, Auror Department, main room!" Albus Dumbledore shouted into the flames before he pushed his head through making a Floo call to the Ministry. As always the room was rather quiet, people through the lives of Auror's were always spectacular and that they were always on the move, one adventure after another. That wasn't the truth, a lot of the time they spent in the offices waiting for call outs or tips offs on dangerous wanted wizards, people desperate enough for the rewards that came with finding a known fugitive. "Hello?" he called out to catch someone's attention.
"Can I help you?" droned a tired Auror, gazing at the fire expectantly. Usually those that Floo called were in need of something, usually an Auror.
"My I speak to Auror Aaron Moody or one Philipp Prewitt?" Albus enquired giving the Auror a smile.
"Aaron!" yelled the Auror.
"What is it, Mallard?" Aaron shouted back, from somewhere at the very back of the room where dozens upon dozens of filing cabinets were stored.
"Who are you?" Mallard asked the face in the fire.
"My name is Albus Dumbledore, I am the Head of Gryffindor house and Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts as well as Deputy Headmaster," Albus told him.
Mallard rolled his eyes when he looked away, his name would have done well enough, "Dumbledore, he wishes to speak to you, hurry up!" the main Floo was supposed to be used for those that needed help, it was used for all sorts of things when it shouldn't be, they abided by the rules only when the head Auror was there, or the Head of the Department of Law enforcement and the occasional time the Minister was in their presence which admittedly wasn't often.
Cursing in annoyance, he grabbed what files he had in his hand and thumped them on his desk, before making his way to the fireplace. He couldn't understand why the Deputy Headmaster would get in touch with him of all people. Kneeling on the floor, where a cushioning charm was permanently embedded so they didn't end up with sore knees. "Can I help you?" he asked, sounding professional despite the fact he'd not interacted with the elder wizard before.
"Yes, I hope so!" Albus said kindly, "I've been informed that you are on a student of mine, Hadrian Peverells case?"
"Yes," Aaron was still perplexed; surely he knew that he wasn't going to be able to give out information.
"Has there been any word on his relatives? I wish to see if there are other family members out there, perhaps a sister of brother that wasn't mentioned. He has until the summer holidays and if no family is found he will need to be placed in an Orphanage." Albus said sounding worried, "Have you found out anything? I understand it should be kept quiet, but I am concerned about him, after everything he's been through an orphanage is the last place for him." lying through his teeth.
"It's been four days, and you know how bad the entire continent is right now, the have a lot more to worry about than unclaimed dead bodies, I'll be surprised if Auror Dalca gets back in touch." Aaron admitted darkly, Dalca was tired, noticeable even over a Floo connection he had sensed it, things weren't going well over there. He wished he could help, but the Ministry wasn't having anything to do with it, insisting that their own people could handle it - that he and the others were needed here. People were also fleeing the continent trying to get to countries unaffected by it, but with the Muggle war getting out of hand as well things were becoming even more dangerous.
"How about the addresses in the UK could they lead somewhere?" Albus asked desperately.
Aaron frowned, "I'm sorry but I cannot say any more, I will give updates to the Headmaster as they are prudent," he'd already said too much, he was bound by the law of privacy, Albus Dumbledore had no say whatsoever on Hadrian Peverell and that was how it would remain.
"It is for his own benefit, I would have liked to know he was with family come this summer," Albus said, "But I understand if nothing else can be said…"
"Good, as I said before, I will be in touch with Headmaster Dippet," Aaron stated a little more kindly, he after all did just want what was best for his students by the look of things.
"Very well," Albus said, "Good day to you," sighing in frustration he stepped away from his fireplace ending the Floo call perplexed and agitated. It was just too bad Doge wasn't on his case, that way it would have been very simple, but Doge hadn't heard anything about the case and wasn't friends with either men. To approach them now would be suspicious, after all everyone knew Doge and himself were very good friends. Doge was working his way into the Wizengamot, so far it was met with resistance but he was nothing if not determined.
There was something about the situation, he wasn't sure what it was, he couldn't help but think this was something Gellert was up to. Perhaps to gather allies within Hogwarts walls and that wouldn't do at all. It was a little too convenient that a powerful boy was cursed and ended up in Hogsmeade of all places. The thought that he had walked into the trap and brought the boy to Hogwarts concerned him too. He would need to keep a very close eye on him, and Horace would help with that one. If he was mistaken then there would be no harm done. Sitting at his desk, he wondered 'what are you up to Gellert?' with growing trepidation. It didn't help that the boy never once met his eye, which indicated he knew about the ancient arts of Occlumency and Legilimency and knew he was proficient at it, that he would know if he was lying. The letters lying opened on his desk didn't help matters, each more desperate than the last, begging him to help them.
Glancing at the time, he stood up, forcing his worries and fears down, he moved towards the door and unlocked it opening the door he told the third years to enter, it was at the height of irony that both Tom Riddle and Hadrian Peverell were now in his class first thing this morning, as if he didn't have enough worries. Gryffindors and Slytherins, he waited patiently for them to all sit down and get ready for his lessons.
Harry sat down at the very back of the classroom, it would ensure that Dumbledore couldn't try sneaking into his mind and it let him watch the entire class. Tom Riddle and Avery were sitting directly in front of him, and most of the Gryffindor sat on the opposite side, just like they did in his time actually. Tom Riddle was surrounded by what he daubed 'First generation Death Eaters' they were all rather solemn in this classroom, so far they were constantly excited from what he had seen, albeit it wasn't much he'd only been a few classes with them. He did constantly have to remind himself that they were only thirteen, still students no matter what they'd done thus far.
He sat drumming his fingers on the Transfiguration book he had taken out of his bag, as he waited on Dumbledore speaking. It seemed even now he had a flare for dramatics, it was rather annoying. Yawning tiredly, he forced himself to sit up so he wouldn't be tempted to fall asleep. He had successfully brewed the potion that would get rid of this disgusting body, well, the second try, and the first he had forgotten an entire stage of the potion causing it to explode. It had been totally embarrassing; he had never exploded a potion, even when he was just a first year. Admittedly they didn't turn out right sometimes, but never outright exploded, thankfully he had been in the Room of Requirements, which he had remembered at the last minute as he prepared to brew his potion. He'd then spent an hour extra working on the potion and having to sneak into Slytherin common room past curfew.
The Slytherin's didn't care what you did, just as long as you didn't get caught, it was very different from Gryffindor, and he would have been scolded like an idiot for going out in the first place. Hell his dorm mates had just gave him a look before going about their own business, Harry honestly didn't know what to make of it. He did wonder what happened when you DID get caught, but he wasn't willing to test that theory, he would just wait to see what happened when someone else eventually did.
He'd taken the potion four times, once each morning, mindful to take it when he was alone, he didn't want anyone being too curious about him. He couldn't take it more often than that, not only would it hurt like a bitch, but it would do undue damage if he got too big too soon. Not only would it feel as if he was experiencing a growth spurt magnified ten times, it would make his bones brittle, easy to break, the dangers were more than obvious in the book and it wasn't a chance he was willing to risk.
That's not to say it was a pain free process, but the pain happened during the day, not while he was trying to sleep. He'd never had a proper growth spurt like boys his own age because of the severe malnutrition he had been dealt with at the Dursley's, so the first time he'd understood the term was when he had taken this potion the first time. His pain tolerance had been considerably lower, but not too low that he could claim it was the worst pain he'd ever felt. Even now the pain he was experience was just an annoyance in the background.
"Today class, we will learn the Geminio Curse, or as it's also known the Doubling Charm. It is a very dangerous piece of magic and should not be handed lightly. It is the intent behind the spell that is most important, now if you do not concentrate fully you will end up casting a charm that will double the item of your choosing until the spell begins to deteriorate. Nothing can stop it, hence why it should never be used for your amusement." Albus Dumbledore said, staring at all of them over his half-moon spectacles. "Now the spell is aimed at creating an exact replica of the target entity. If you duplicate something rare and expensive, the copy is of course, worthless, a cheap imitation."
Hands immediately raised in the air, mostly from the Gryffindor side.
"Ah, yes, Mr. Potter?" Albus said, gesturing towards one of his favourite students.
Harry had to stop himself from jerking, his green eyes moved towards where Dumbledore had pointed. Potter? It had to be his grandfather then, he had been in school the same time as Voldemort? As far as he knew though his father had been born late in his grandparent's life although he wasn't exactly sure how they died. How can that be true if his grandfather was in school now? Harry mentally calculated how old he would be when James was born, and found himself baffled. They hadn't been that old, but he had to remind himself most partners had children straight away, perhaps they had been trying for years and the story spread as if they had been trying for decades as apposed to how long it really had been.
"Will anyone know if it's a copy?" the Gryffindor student asked eagerly.
"Not by looking at it, but any detection spells will uncover the fact that it's a copy," Albus explained smiling at him.
"Now what closely and listen to the incantation," Albus said sternly, "Geminio!" pointing it at the dark detector on his desk, and immediately afterwards there was an exact replica of it, sitting right next to it, twins in every single way. "As you noticed it was only replicated once, just as I wanted."
Harry raised his hand.
"Yes, Mr. Peverell?" Albus said, with less warmth than he had when answering his precious Gryffindors.
"Does it work on books?" Harry asked, noticing the lack of enthusiasm, at least McGonagall didn't actually favour the Gryffindors and outright hate Slytherins on principle. He was getting more and more annoyed at Dumbledore each passing day he was in his company. Other than Severus there hadn't been a single Slytherin the Order, and even then everyone had not trusted Severus one iota. The prejudice wasn't too bad right now, he knew it would only get worse - probably due to the fact they somehow found out that Voldemort himself came from Slytherin.
"No," Albus replied, his eyes twinkling just a little, "Any book written after 1920's was charmed to prevent this spell being used on books so that the bookshops weren't put out of business."
Harry nodded but he knew all charms have a counter spell; it is possible to remove it and then duplicate it. At least he assumed so, it would take a lot of work to do it, but he wasn't interested in copying books even if it would have been handy. Just copying one of the student's books for next year and having more money to get his school uniform. It just depended on what happened when he finally got to Gringotts, he'd decided to go the day the students went to Hogsmeade. That way he would be less likely to be caught, although it seemed as though he could go and the Slytherins would have his back just because he was one of them. A novel experience.
If it was the same here as it was in the future, then there would be a Hogsmeade trip within the next fortnight maybe three weeks. There was always one just before Christmas, so the students could get presents and the like if they wanted. Which meant he had a timetable in which he had to find the ritual, otherwise he would need to get there not using magic. Damn the trace to hell and back, he was feeling vulnerable, and he didn't like it. In Hogwarts if you did Wandless magic it wasn't picked up due to the amount of wards and students that were usually within it, use your wand to cast anything…dubious you'd know all about it. While Apparation wasn't dubious it would raise flags.
"Mr. Peverell, when in my classroom I demand that you do your assigned tasks and in a timely manner, three points from Slytherin!" Albus said, annoyed at the boy spending his class lost in thought.
Harry's head jerked up, slowly becoming more aware, his lip curled very subtly but he managed to keep it back. His gaze roamed around the classroom, arching an eyebrow when he saw that nobody had yet to even successfully cast it. Nose twitching, he cast the Charm on his quill and watched another appear in its place. Hogwarts was more advanced here, this spell was a forth year one he had learned from McGonagall he remembered because of the Tri-Wizard tournament. Maybe he shouldn't have done that, but sometimes his anger just got the better of him, and darn it, made him do things he knew he shouldn't. "How is that Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked a sarcastic smile on his face.
"Very well done," Albus said grudgingly, "Ten points to Slytherin,"
"Thank you, Professor," Harry said, managing to actually sound genuine. From the corner of his eyes he saw the Slytherins looking at him torn between being impressed and worried as they glanced at Tom Riddle. Hmm, he would need to be careful; he didn't want to actually have a furious Tom Riddle on his hands.
Cocking an eyebrow a smirk on his face, he stared at Tom but he as always was staring back amused. It was rather annoying he had to admit, to have the boy staring at him like that every time they were in the same room. Perhaps he had been a bit too hasty in revealing that his story wasn't true, there was no way Tom Riddle would let it rest, he would want to know the real story - real history, not that he'd ever figure it out of course, but still. As long as he was left alone he couldn't care less, he wasn't about to become one of his lackeys. Didn't that defeat his ideas? On trying to turn Tom Riddle away from his murderous rage and a path that would see the darkest times magical Britain had ever known?
Then of course, Tom cast the spell immediately afterwards and it worked, not that Harry had any doubt. He did notice to his adding anger at the old fool that he deliberately avoided looking over after seeing Tom cast the spell correctly. Damn it, Dumbledore had no clue to what Tom would grow up to be; he had absolutely no right to treat him like that. Hell the fucking git had nearly killed him too many times to name but he wasn't doing anything, so Dumbledore had no right to play the self righteous bastard.
"Does he do that often?" Harry asked casually, turning sideways, his back against the wall his feet up on the chair. Having already done his spell for the day, there was nothing else to be doing in the class. They didn't learn more than one spell, since more often than not all the students needed one or two lessons to get the spell cast properly. Sometimes they even needed more than that, like Neville, poor guy, if only he'd gotten a real wand when he should have, he wouldn't have had so much trouble.
Avery turned slightly but otherwise ignored him, not that Harry was particularly bothered since he hadn't spoken to him.
"Does who do what?" Tom asked facing Hadrian with a bored mask firmly in place. He was twirling his wand around in his hand not noticing Avery watching it as if it were a poisonous snake.
"Do I really have to say?" Harry said dryly, knowing Tom already knew he was too observant of his surroundings, probably due to his upbringing at the orphanage.
"He does," Tom admitted, "He doesn't trust me, hasn't done from the moment he met me. If anything happens I am the first person he suspects."
"Ah, but how often did you actually do the thing he suspects?" Harry said smirking deviously, a chuckle working its way out of his mouth.
Avery shifted slightly, peering around before facing the front again his neck slightly red.
Tom didn't reply but that didn't surprise Harry the slightest.
Sighing softly, he looked at Dumbledore before fishing out his Ancient Runes book from his bag, he didn't have the subject until Wednesday but he found himself fascinated by it. His belief that nothing new could be learned about Ancient Runes was wrong, people were still creating Runes today, for their own purposes. In fact Tom Riddle had used Runes in his resurrection ritual. Not that he had realized it at the time; everything had already been set up for his appearance. Harry's eyes widened, he was thinking of the boy more and more as Tom Riddle instead of Voldemort. Arithmancy had also played a large part in it, when he'd found the ritual amongst the Riddle mansion he had been quite frankly awed by how intricate the design was. He'd stayed in Riddle mansion for six months without trouble, after all nobody suspected Harry would ever go there. Unfortunately they had found him in the end; all the books and ideas had gone up in flames with it.
Books, thought Harry, a nagging feeling in his mind, before he sat up properly, of course. Dumbledore wasn't he Headmaster, he hadn't gotten rid of the books in the library yet, he might just find the book he needs for the ritual to get rid of the trace. If it was in Hogwarts though it would be in the restricted section. He didn't have his cloak, he wouldn't be able to sneak in, and he would need to ask permission…unless he could somehow call the cloak to him? No, his grandfather would probably tell Dumbledore and if they found it on him they'd accuse him of stealing. Still that cloak was his, he felt possessive of it, it was the only thing of his father he'd ever had, along with the map. But it had been made for him, for him to harness according to Death.
He couldn't wait until this class was over; he had to see if he was right!
"Mr. Peverell, come up here please," Dumbledore insisted from behind his desk, looking unimpressed - probably due to the fact he was reading a book that wasn't on Transfiguration in his class.
Harry stood up and made his way over to his professor, "Yes, Sir?" he replied, his gaze on the desk, which he idly noticed was exactly the same one McGonagall used in his time.
Albus handed over a large bundle of parchment, "This is homework I've assigned since term began, you have until after the Christmas holidays to hand it in." once again irritated by the boys refusal to look at him. "If you need help my door is always open." once again trying to get the boy to look at him.
"Thank you, Sir," Harry said taking it and turning away back to his desk, there were about ten assignments in his hands. No other teacher was demanding this of him, at least none he had been in class with. In fact they were always helpful, insisting that he just listen in, and they would inform him of things he didn't understand - if he didn't understand the work material.
Dumbledore really didn't like him.
The Slytherins all looked away hiding their amusement to which Harry just grunted in annoyance.
------0
Harry hastily made his way to the library during his break; it was empty bar the librarian, who most certainly wasn't Madam Pince. It was a thirty-something looking wizard, he reminded Harry of Gilderoy Lockhart, just the way he had his hair and his baby blue robes. The wizard turned to face him surprised to see a student here during lesson hours, at least a third year Harry deduced since sixth and seventh years didn't have as many classes.
"Can I help you?" the wizard said, gazing questioningly at the young boy who was just standing there. "Are you looking for a particular book?"
"Er…yes," Harry said wandering along to the desk, "I'm looking for Faith Cattermole's book, Rites of Rituals?" Harry made himself sound unsure.
"Now what would you be wanting with a book like that?" the wizard said perplexed.
"It's mentioned in one of the books I bought," Harry said shrugging sheepishly, "I only just learned about the magical world and I wanted to see what a ritual is, but if I'm too young I understand…I'll read it when I'm older!" Harry proclaimed proudly. He knew it wasn't considered a dark book, most rituals in it were 'light' but Dumbledore hadn't cared, he just wanted anything associated with the Dark Arts gone.
"Ah," the wizard relaxed seeing it was only curiosity, completely being brought in by the innocent exuberance Harry was showing. "You will need to have a teacher's authorisation, it is in the restricted section," he pointed over to the left when he explained.
"Oh, well what age do you need to be to get authorisation?" Harry peered up at him innocently. He knew damn well what age, Hermione had talked Lockhart into it when she was twelve years old there was no limit. So either he had to sneak in like he had suspected or get someone to allow him entrance.
"You only need to have a teacher's authorisation," he explained, smiling at him. It was good to see a student taking their studies seriously, none more so than Tom Riddle who spent a lot of time within the library, mostly looking through the historical achieves.
"Thank you!" Harry exclaimed, "I have to go, my class will be starting soon. Bye!"
"Goodbye," the wizard stated, watching Harry walk out with a run in his step. Shaking his head, he got back to work, grabbing the trolley and moving around his library, putting the returned books back in their places. Which was a great many, since a lot of students used the library he would say at a time there are two hundred students taking books out.
Harry slowed down once he was out of the library, a frown on his face; he made his way down to the hospital wing where he was having two double periods of healing. That option hadn't been available in his time either, so much knowledge had been lost that it was unbearable to witness. If there was a chance he could change what was to come, he had to start with Tom Riddle and Dumbledore, he had to prevent him becoming Headmaster of Hogwarts…but he had no clue on how to go about that.
Dumbledore's hypocrisy was beginning to get on his last nerve though.