Tannim's blog: "Harry Potter and the Mental War"

July 23^rd

Harry and Fawkes arrived outside the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts with a flaming crack.  The statue moved aside immediately and Harry stepped onto the moving staircase as Fawkes settled on his shoulder.  They reached the top and Harry knocked on the door.  "Come in," he heard McGonagall's voice reply.  He opened the door. McGonagall was behind her desk, which was covered in parchments.

"Harry, welcome, I wasn't expecting you," said McGonagall with a smile.  "Please forgive the mess; Peeves has been up to his usual tricks.  This time he's been using sticking charms on doors, and I can't seem to figure out the right counterspell." She waved at the parchments.  "I was looking through some old records for some ideas."

Harry frowned for a moment.  "Have you tried, 'Abiungo Door?'"

McGonagall looked at him for a moment sharply, then her eyebrows raised.  She turned, waved her wand at a door in the room and said the incantation.  The door flew open with a bang.  "Yes, that's it, but how did you know?"

Harry shrugged. "I didn't, but I decided to brush up on some Latin while studying, so it seemed to make sense."

"Well, thank you, Harry.  But you didn't come here to open doors for an old woman, even though I appreciate the gesture.  What can I do for you?" She smiled again.

Harry returned the smile. "Well, forgive the sucking-up, but you really do need to smile more, Headmistress.  But I actually came here to talk to Professor Dumbledore's portrait, if I could."

"Of course.  I'll leave you two alone.  Send Fawkes when you are done.  I have some doors to unstick anyway."  McGonagall left the room and close the door behind her.  Harry turned to the portrait of Albus Dumbledore, who had watched the conversation with interest.

"Well, Harry, I'm glad to see you, and it appears that you have, from what the Professors have told me, made great progress in your growth.  Now before we begin, I must say a few things," Dumbledore held up a hand to stop Harry.  "Please hear me out."

"First, do not for a moment think my death was your fault.  It was not.  I cannot explain it all yet, but rest assured that what happened on the tower was not what you think it was.  Yes, I died, but the reasons are far different than what they appear.

"Second, you will need to meet with Severus.  I know you have the utmost hatred for him right now, but you need to get past that if you are to succeed.

"Third, you need to continue your Occulmency and Legillimency training.  I know you have made progress, but you still have far to go.  I suggest Remus can help you with that.

Harry waited, listening, calmly.  Dumbledore looked at him.  "You seem very calm, Harry.  What are you thinking right now?"

"Professor, I know now that your death was not my fault.  I know you chose to protect me that night, even at that price.  I've come to terms with that, even though it hurts.

"I also have some idea on Snape now.  Aunt Petunia told me that he had loved my Mum since they were children, but he hated my Dad since he won her and Snape didn't.  I take it that's why you trust him, because he accidentally caused the woman he loved to die by Voldemort, so he vowed revenge?" Surprised at this, Dumbledore nodded.

"That must mean, then, that you planned in advance for this to happen, to solidify Snape's position in the Death Eaters, and that he is still a spy for the Order.  And that's why you think I need to meet with him, to 'clear the air,' so to speak."  Again Dumbledore nodded.

"I am surprised you learned this.  I kept it from you because of my concern for Voldemort prying into your head and discovering it.  Tell me, Harry," Dumbledore asked.  "Have you had any mind attacks from him lately?"

Harry frowned.  "Nothing at first.  I was in one helluva funk and he couldn't get in while I was lost in grief and misery, but then I got my head cleared, and there was nothing until recently, until something odd happened." He recounted what he had seen with Draco and the cemetery and the repeat of Voldemort rising again.  "The odd thing is that my scar didn't hurt.  I thought it may have been a dream."

"It was no dream Harry," Dumbledore replied.  "Severus reported to me the whole thing.  Draco is dead, and Narcissa did exactly what your mother did.  Voldemort did have to rise again, but because Draco defied Voldemort, he became the enemy whose blood was needed.  The side effect of that event is that Bellatrix Lestrange as well as both Andromeda and Nymphadora Tonks are now protected from Voldemort, and they don't know it."

"Any idea why my scar didn't hurt, then?"

"I think you'll need to ask Severus that.  My suspicion is that he figured out a way to transfer or invert Occulmency so that your intrusion was not detected."

"Next, I have to admit that my head clearing was because of Ginny snogging me senseless on the platform at King's Cross.  I don't know what to do about it, though."  Harry blushed and looked down at the thought of that kiss.

"Well, Harry, sometimes the heart and the head wind up fighting each other.  I can only offer this advice: listen to Tonks.  She's been fighting that battle with herself lately over a certain werewolf."

Harry looked up with a weak smile.  "Yeah, I noticed that.  She said something similar, and to write Ginny a love letter."

Dumbledore gazed back at him with moist eyes.  "Harry, that's a brilliant idea.  I wish I had done that to Minerva thirty years ago."  Then Dumbledore blushed and looked away.

"You and...her?"  Harry was astonished.  "Did she ever know?"

"I don't know, Harry, and please don't say anything.  It's one of my many mistakes," pleaded Dumbledore, almost like a child.

"I won't say anything, sir.  It's just a little shocking, but if I think about it, it makes sense, since you two have always been tight here, more than just colleagues," Harry replied.

"Professor, are your familiar with what Muggles call 'wallet photos'?"

"Aren't those photographs that are small enough to fit into a Muggle wallet?" asked Dumbledore.

"Yes, that's exactly it," Harry replied.  "Can the same be done with magical portraits?"

Dumbledore thought for a moment.  "Yes, it can, two ways.  You can either take a regular portrait and shrink it with a spell, or you can get one done custom at the magical portrait shop in Diagon Alley.  Why?"

"Professor McGonagall thinks the owls and Floo are being watched, and I'm trying to figure out secure communication methods," Harry replied.  "I'm using Fawkes for messages right now, but that doesn't work very well for talking to you.  I'd like to have a portrait of you with me at all times to work with on this.  I need your help."

"Harry. I'm touched.  Talk to Minerva on it and she can make the necessary arrangements.  I also know that there is a portrait of Sirius available at Grimmauld Place, and one here as well behind Phineas Nigellus.  Take that one now."

Harry got up and moved Phineas aside.  There was a smaller, empty portrait.  Harry knew that Sirius was at Grimmauld Place at the moment.  He took down the portrait, and shrunk it and slipped it into his pocket, then replaced Phineas.  "That helps," he said.

"Thank you, Harry.  I take it there is more?"

"Yes, there is.  Horcruxes.  The locket was a fake," Harry said, and it was Dumbledore's turn to look shocked.  "There was a note in it to Voldemort that said the person who wrote it had removed the real one and was going to destroy it.  It was signed by R.A.B., but we have no idea who that is."

Dumbledore looked at Harry, got up, and began to pace in his portrait.  "I can only think of one person with that name, but I cannot be certain.  Ask Sirius; I think he'll know."

"There's one last thing, Professor.  I made arrangements to get the Dursleys out of the country so they will be safe from Voldemort."

Dumbledore smiled broadly.  "Well done, Harry.  That's the best thing you can do.  Stand with your friends, Harry, and don't be afraid to love, and be loved.  I am tired now, but I can leave you with one last piece of advice:  Grief is showing love, which is why Voldemort couldn't touch you in your grief.  But love protects you from him, and that advantage is what you need to fully develop your power to defeat him, and if I am not mistaken, is part of that power.  Don't run from it, Harry.  Embrace it."

"Thank you, Professor.  We'll talk again soon, I promise."

Harry sent Fawkes to McGonagall and told her of his portrait need.  Minerva reached into her desk and pulled out a desk portrait of Dumbledore and gave it to him with a hug.  Then he grabbed onto Fawkes and disapparated with a flaming crack.  He had a love letter to write, but he had a stop to make first.