MetaFic

20 Dec 1991

Albus Dumbledore stood patiently, waiting around the corner and down the corridor.  Minerva had questioned his sanity, but she had dutifully agreed to his request and moved to intercept the five young Gryffindor students.  At this point in life, he knew that many people considered him to be slightly mad, but it mattered little in the grand scheme of things.  He was hopeful, and he was amazed at how well everything was coming together.

The voices nearby rose steadily as Minerva dispatched four of the five students to perform menial tasks for her in other parts of the castle.  The first-years had Friday afternoons free, and given the inclement weather they had happily stayed in the castle rather than expending their boisterous energy outside.

“Thank you, Mr Potter,” came the voice of his deputy head.  Albus began slowly walking toward where the children had been, trusting that only Harry would remain in his path, as Minerva was supposed to have requested that he deliver a scroll to Madam Pince.

Within moments, Harry Potter came around the corner and nodded politely as he spotted Albus.

“Headmaster,” Harry offered with a pleasant smile.

“Ah, Mr Potter,” Albus replied, drawing to a stop while looking down on the lad.  “You have settled in well at Hogwarts, I trust?”

Harry likewise drew to a stop as he looked up into Albus’ eyes.  “Yes, sir.  It’s almost everything I expected.”

“Yes, the ‘almost’ clause,” Albus agreed readily.  “There is always that faint line separating youthful flights of fancy from reality, but we do try to live up to expectations.  You’ve had no more problems with the staff, I hope?”

“No, sir,” Harry said immediately.  “Well, Binns is a bit boring, but I can’t hold that against him.  No one said learning or ghosts had to be exciting.  Better him than Peeves, if you know what I mean.”

Albus laughed for a moment, pleased that Petunia had done such an outstanding job in raising Harry.  “No, no, I quite understand.  And Madam Pomfrey tells me you recovered well from that terrible accident after the Quidditch match.”

“Yes, sir.  She had me put to rights in no time,” Harry said.  “I heard that Filch spent the rest of the weekend checking over the pitch and found a few other things to fix.”

“Yes,” Dumbledore agreed, not wanting to reveal the full extent of his fears about what had really happened that day.  “I had Professor Flitwick spend time updating the protection charms as well.”

“I suppose it had to happen sooner or later, sir.”  Harry shrugged, and Albus could tell he had accepted the fall as a freak accident.

“Indeed, though I regret it happened at all.”  Albus paused for a moment, wanting to broach a specific topic without raising any suspicion for doing so.  “If you don’t mind my asking, Harry, I have a question for you.  I always check the lists for who will stay at Hogwarts over the holidays, but I didn’t see your name listed.  Were you not interested in having the run of the castle, perhaps with the other students?”

Harry looked completely surprised at the idea, which Albus thought was a good sign.  The child’s occasional pranking was amusing, but it was hardly on the same scale as either his father’s efforts or those of the older Gryffindor students.  If he had not even considered using the holidays for mischief, he would probably never advance to their level.

Upon further reflection, Albus decided that Harry’s leaving for the holidays could also be a sign of strength and happiness.  That would confirm the information presented by the instruments in his office, which told him that the protections around Harry were the most powerful he had ever seen.  That, in turn, meant that a strong bond of love and affection existed between Harry and his family.

“Not really, sir.  Oh, I’m sure it would be fun, but . . . well, I didn’t want to be absent at Christmas.”

Albus could see the desire to be home, amongst family, clearly etched on Harry’s face.  “Indeed,” he agreed.  “And how is your Aunt, then?”

“Aunt Petunia?” Harry shrugged briefly.  “Last I knew, she was happy at home, especially after Uncle Vernon’s recent promotion.  I suspect she’s already gone all-out to decorate the place before school’s over.”  

Albus chuckled softly, though the child’s choice of words was a bit unexpected.  “Yes, I can just imagine.  She always was one for wanting everything in precisely the right place.  Last you knew?  You do not keep in communication while at Hogwarts?”

“Ah, no, sir,” Harry said.  Albus wondered why Harry seemed to think the question so odd.  “My Aunt really wouldn’t appreciate an owl dropping by with post.”

“Oh, I see,” Albus said.  He supposed that regular owl post would indeed be a bit hard to explain in a Muggle neighborhood.  “Why don’t you use the Gringotts’ Mail Relay service?”

“What’s that?”  Harry hesitated briefly before adding, “Sir.”

“You send your post ‘care of’ their gateway, and they in turn place it into the Muggle Post.  They charge two sickles, I believe, for the conversion.”  Albus paused, happy to have resolved the slight anomaly. He should have remembered the complications of owl post and that the Gringotts gateway was really only known to those who needed it. “So may I take it that you’re looking forward to your time away from Hogwarts, then?”

“Of course, sir.  And to be fair, Seamus’ sister would never forgive me if I didn’t personally hand her the present I ordered for her.”  

Albus smiled again, pleased to have several answers at once. When Minerva had shown him the unexpected address for Harry Potter just before all the Hogwarts letters were sent out, he had calmly reassured her that everything was fine – his instruments told him that much. Albus had quickly surmised that Petunia had cleverly enlisted aid in preparing Harry for his entrance to the magical world.  A discreet inquiry had revealed the Potters’ last remaining vassal-bond to the Finnegans, of all people. After a further quick check of the registry, it seemed certain that Harry would not only come prepared but in all probability would have a friend in young Seamus as well.

“Ah, yes,” Dumbledore said, “the delightful Miss Finnegan.  I received a very strongly worded letter from her after the match.”

Albus watched as Harry’s eyes lit with mirth, though the boy managed to contain his grin.  “She mentioned that.”

“Her point was quite apt, if somewhat stridently delivered.  I have already written to her about the repairs to the pitch, but please tell her once again that I am giving my full attention to the matter.”

“I will, sir.  I’ll tell her first thing when I get to Seamus’ house.”

The headmaster nodded his thanks and took advantage of the change of topic.  “I had wondered about that.  The professors here tell me that you’re good friends with several other students, yet all but a brother with Mr Finnegan.  You even sound similar.  I take it your Aunt has arranged for you to spend time with the Finnegans?”

Albus had to admit that Petunia had grown up after all.  He had been worried about dropping young Harry off in her care and merely hoping that he would be raised well. Harry had come into the magical world prepared, however, which meant that somehow Petunia had put aside her old differences and raised him properly.  As Albus had told others, despite being in a position to take advantage of his name, the lad was simply an excellent role model and hard worker.

“Yeah, she set it up a long time ago, sir.  She said they could help me learn my heritage more than she could.”  Harry paused for a moment before smiling brightly.  “Really, being with the Finnegans is brilliant.  It’s much more fun than being at home, sir.”

Albus could easily understand that.  He suspected that living without magic would be most troublesome to Harry once he became used to the alternative.  The fact that Harry clearly had an outlet during the holidays would also help immensely in the years to come.  As his skills advanced, the temptation to use them could be deferred until his Aunt would allow a visit to his friends’ home.  With the wards as strong as they were, Albus thought a few weeks each summer with the Finnegans would be easily arranged and quite safe.

“I understand, Mr Potter.  I daresay it’s much more enjoyable when you can use magic, unlike when you’re at home.”

Harry laughed freely for a moment, and Albus treasured the open and friendly child before him.  “Sir,” Harry said when he had calmed down, “that’s exactly it.  My Aunt’s family doesn’t like magic much, so I just try to be careful when I’m at home.”

Albus nodded his head in silent agreement, pleased to have so many questions answered in such an easy manner.  Everything was better than he had dared hope for, and the future remained bright indeed.

“Thank you for talking with me, Mr Potter.  Before I let you go, however, I have one item I must give to you. I had thought to send it via post, since you won’t be in the castle for the holidays, but I’ll hand it to you instead since our paths have conveniently crossed.”  Albus reached into the inner pocket of his robe and pulled out a soft, wrapped bundle.  “Your father left it in my care, but I believe you are old enough to use it now.”

Harry took the package from his hands very gently and looked up at Albus with surprise and delight.  “Thank you, sir,” he said in a whisper.  “Thank you very much.”

“It’s time it was returned, Mr Potter.  I won’t mention it if you open it before Christmas – but I do recommend you open it in private.  Good day, Mr Potter, and if I don’t see you before the break, Happy Christmas to you.”

Harry held the bundle to his chest, nodding quickly.  “Happy Christmas to you, too, sir.”

With a smile and a feeling of buoyancy, Albus continued on his journey towards the Great Hall.