Ad libitum

Harry frowned as he reread the message he had received from Gringotts. The Gidwerg had agreed to his request that a team of healers would look at his scar and especially the connection to Moldyshorts. Depending on what would be discovered during this examination, the ritual hall would be made available for healing - for the appropriate price, of course. That in itself was not the problem Harry had with the message. It was Sharptooth's follow-up, that Dumbledore demanded that Duke Potter-Black come to the bank and explain why he had left Surrey without permission. He sighed, then handed the letter to Tony and Artaius who immediately had a similarly annoyed look on their faces.

“Okay. Dumbster is annoying everything and everyone again. Better safe than sorry. Tonius, you go with Harry to Roma to buy the right clothes. The Duke of Blackwood-Avon can't indulge in walking around in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, although I can certainly accept the cosiness of those clothes, in private.” Harry looked at Tony, but he just shrugged. Artaius was quite right. “When you get back, we'll draw up a battle plan.”

“Don't worry, Dumbster will be surprised if he thinks he can exert any influence.”

Just as they had feared, Dumbledore had interfered with their appointment with Sharptooth and Healer Bonehelm from the start. He had immediately hijacked the conversation and wouldn't let anyone present get a word in edgewise, even trying to prevent the scan from being done for the initial examination. At some point Harry had had enough and fixed his gaze on Dumbledore until he was silent for a moment and then asked a question.

“Is something wrong, my boy?”

“Investigatore Tonius Amato is someone Sirius has introduced to me as completely trustworthy. Therefore, I will not be talked into believing that I am not safe with him. If you hadn't taken advantage of Gringotts, you still wouldn't know where I've been lately. What you don't know even now. This should be a more than clear indication of my safety. A security I never felt with the Dursleys.”

“Family stands by each other, is there for each other, helps each other. My boy, it is imperative that you return to your family.”

“How is Aberforth?” Tony asked, raising an eyebrow as Dumbledore turned his attention to him. “There are enough examples, you know of enough examples, where families don't get along. Sirius Black was thrown out by his parents at 15, Severus Snape was beaten by his father, Petunia Evans regularly called her own sister a freak and claimed for years that Lily worked as a prostitute and was driven to death by her drunken pimp. I know these are extreme examples. But what about the one cousin of the Weasleys that no one talks about just because he doesn't have enough magic to earn the right for a wand? Such wonderful behaviour from a family on the light side of magic. Not to mention yourself, Dumbledore. When was the last time you spoke about your brother without being disparaging? Just because an ordinary life suits him more, doesn't make him less worthy. But that's not what this is about. Harry will never return to Little Whinging and if your behaviour towards him does not change soon, I will take him out of Hogwarts and leave the country with him until he is ready to take his seat in the Wizengamot. I will enrol him at whichever school offers me a place first. Considering his abilities, I could well imagine it will be L'Istituto di Studi Magico e Mondano. Harry would learn with and from people who don't see him as some oddball just because he was saved by a ritual his mother performed.”

“It may be that he doesn't get on well with his relatives. But the very ritual you just mentioned makes it necessary for him to be with his family regularly for extended periods. The house is surrounded by a blood ward, which protects Harry for as long as he can keep returning and calling it home.”

“Two problems,” Harry interjected. “One, Riddle used my blood to create a body for himself. That means my blood is flowing in his veins and so the wards are no longer holding him back. Maybe they're still effective against his minions, but honestly? It wouldn't help if they set the house on fire. The address is no secret either. Not after Dobby tried to get me thrown out of Hogwarts or when I lost my nerve with Marge and the emergency squad was called. And not forgetting the two Dementors who were set upon me last year, resulting in a temporary expulsion and a hearing in front of the entire Wizengamot. Which includes Riddle's minions! I am no longer safe in this house! If I ever was. And secondly, the behaviour of my aunt, uncle and cousin ensured that Privet Drive 4 was never my home. I was at best reluctantly tolerated!”

Harry had barely finished the sentence when he felt a sharp stab in his chest, in the place Sirius had described the summer before as the seat of a person's magical core. He listened within and a thin smile played around his mouth. He felt a warmth that had surrounded him when Sirius was around too and he knew what had happened. With his words, he had pulled the wards that barely existed from Privet Drive. They were now waiting for him to find a place he would truly call home, there they would come into full bloom.

He stood up, smoothed out the teal robes he had purchased for this appointment on Tony's advice and looked firmly at Dumbledore. “I will now go with Healer Bonehelm and discuss the real reason I am here. A discussion to which you are not invited. Should you wish to stop me, please remember that although you are my Headmaster and the current High Warlock of the Wizengamot. But I am the Earl of Avon and Duke of Blackwood. With my votes alone, I can see to it that you are removed from your posts. I don't want to do it, but if you continue to try to determine how I live my life, you will give me no choice. I also have no problem changing schools for the next two years. To be honest, if Snape so much as makes one disparaging comment to me, I'll be gone. And I'll take with me anyone who feels equally let down by their heads of house and you as Headmaster.”

Dumbledore looked at him in astonishment and only responded when Tony and Harry had almost left the room.

“I don't know what you mean by that, my boy.”

“Stop calling me that! It only stirs up nausea-inducing images in me! What I mean by that? Snape deducts points from students for breathing! And lets people pass who will never in their lives have the skills and grades to do so, like Crabbe and Goyle. I wonder how he explained this to his Death Eater friends now that the O.W.L. results have been sent out? I'm sure I'll only see Zabini, Nott and Malfoy from Slytherin again in this class. But regardless of the blatant favouritism, what upsets me the most is that no one is doing anything about Snape's terror towards students. Almost every lesson he rubs personal losses in children's faces and seems to take pleasure in it. It is now known that Snape was an active Death Eater, and every day students like Neville or Susan Bones are reminded of their loss. I have learned - thanks to Vernon Dursley - not to show it when someone is verbally abusing me. But others don't have such thick skins. If Snape really has switched sides, as you always claim, then he really has a rotten way of showing it. And your not reprimanding him doesn't show you in too nice a light either.”

With that, Harry left the room for good, Tony following him with a grin. Much of what the younger man had said he had been carrying around with him for some time, but there had been no one there to back him up. Dumbledore had been put on too much of a pedestal by his victory over Grindelwald. But it was time the Headmaster learned that fame could be fleeting. Tony turned at the door one last time and looked coolly at Dumbledore.

“Duke Potter has a name, Dumbledore, and you would do well to remember that in the future. You may disagree with his decisions and mine, but at least respect him as a person and use his name. Until he came to school, he did not know that his parents called him Harry. He learned his full name even later. He only learned the truth about his parents' death when your underling made his ridiculous attempt to reintroduce him to the magical world. And he was only informed of his inheritance barely a year ago. None of this may matter to you, considering that you are trying to send him back to the Dursleys. But, I expect and demand that you respect Hadrian as a human being and address him accordingly.”

Tony did not wait for Dumbledore's reaction, but left the room as well. Secretly, he hoped that they had finally got through to the headmaster and that his behaviour would now improve. But that hope was not all that great.

Slowly Harry sat up in the hospital bed to which he had been transferred after the ritual. Healer Bonehelm had warned him in advance that he would feel weak for some time. Weak as a helpless Cornish pixie, she had said. Harry thought that was an understatement, remembering only too well the disastrous lesson with Lockhardt and Pixies. He thought himself far weaker than those little buggers. Newborn Cornish Pixies was probably the more apt comparison.

“Ah, Sleeping Beauty has woken up.”

Harry turned his head, fumbled for his glasses and put them on. Tony and Artaius sat on uncomfortable-looking chairs at the edge of the bed. They both had a brief look of worry on their faces, but then education took over with them and they were both the prime example of pureblood Mages.

“How long was I out?”

“Almost a whole day. The echo wasn't so much the problem, though there was a little backlash. But Healer Bonehelm and her team discovered other problems that they were determined to fix immediately.”

“Like what?”

“Brittle bones due to malnutrition, phoenix tears and basilisk poison. Those were the things we were expecting. But that someone felt the need to block your magical channels. That's something no one expected. Especially considering the fact that there are only a few Mages who have the power to do something like that. And all those are on the rather short list of those who know there is a prophecy with your name on it.”

The two men took a deep breath and Artaius put a hand on Tony's arm reassuringly.

“Was there anything that couldn't be fixed? I'm going to assume that the duration of my unconsciousness has something to do with the removal of the blockage in my magical channels.”

“With all the things we are capable of through magic, there are two things after all, we don't stand a chance against that and neither do the Gidwerg.” Tony's statement seemed to be pulled out of thin air, but Harry knew the older man well enough by now to know that he never said anything unless he meant it.

“And that would be?” asked Harry tensely.

“Death and bad eyes,” Tony replied with laughter in his voice, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. “And for some reason I can't wear contacts anymore.”

‘I'm not putting any crap in my eyes. I'm not deranged after all!’ a thought flared up in Tony's mind, clearly indicating a remnant of Sirius.

“So I'm going to continue to be forced to lose my glasses and look for them in the most impossible situations?”

Artaius laughed at the exasperated expression on Harry's face. “Just because Tonius is in a dilemma doesn't mean we can't try to see if you can tolerate magical contact lenses. These would be inserted with magic and you would never have to worry about cleaning or replacement. Then at an annual health check, it would be checked to see if anything has changed in your vision or not.”

Harry sat up further, thought for a moment and then nodded. “In my case, the glasses are a weak point. If I can tolerate contact lenses, go for it. Could you ask Healer Bonehelm to find someone who can treat me in that regard should it not be in her extensive repertoire?”

Artaius rose with a nod. “I will see to it at once.”

Harry looked after Artaius and then turned his gaze to Tony. “You seem extremely upset.”

“Well, I expected a lot of things. That Dumbster didn't keep at least half an eye on you is bad enough. But that he allowed someone to bind your magical channels is unforgivable.”

“Couldn't he have known?”

“Harry, Dumbledore possesses the ability of Magesight. Under no circumstances could he have missed Moldy's Horcrux, the echo or the blockage of your abilities.”

Harry took a deep breath as the significance of this sunk in. “So he ignored the problems. Ignored what was wrong but kept nudging me in the direction of danger.”

Harry picked at the blanket above his legs, thought for a moment, then looked to Tony and Artaius, who returned at that moment.

“Have you ever read Sherlock Holmes?” The brothers nodded and Harry thoughtfully plucked at the blanket. “I can accept that conflict is part of human life, whether magical or Mundane. But, I don't see myself as a warrior, a fighter. I've always been able to identify with Watson. The soldier who heals. Who helps those born to fight.”

Artaius nodded in understanding. “At the UICM there is a division of Battle Healers. Their task would be exactly what you have in mind. I can try to get some information.”

Harry nodded gratefully. “That would be great. Then I'll know if there's anything I need to learn before I can apply to IMMI.”

As it turned out a few minutes later, magical optics was indeed not part of Healer Bonehelm's repertoire, however she knew someone who specialised in it and in a few minutes Harry's glasses were history and on his first glance in the mirror he was amazed to realise how much less he now looked like James Potter. This fuelled in him the question of how much of it had been intentional. But, he also had to realise that it wasn't all a big evil plan that was happening in his life. So, he pushed the thought aside and focused on what really mattered: preparing for his sixth year at Hogwarts and catching up on the gaps in his knowledge so that an application to IMMI might have at least a small chance of success.

Several days had passed since Harry had undergone intensive healing at Gringotts. And the difference was simply impossible to miss. Spells he had previously had problems with were now succeeding on the first try. He could be found in the library almost every day, had even cleared a corner where meals were served by Dobby and Winky (with whom a bond had been formed in the meantime), should he forget to take a break.

That weekend Tony was back at Blackwood Castle and Artaius had also been given rooms to retire to in the meantime. Harry knew that the brothers were working on things to do with Moldyshort and his Horcruxes. He also knew that ultimately the fight against Moldy was up to him. Which was why Tony, in particular, kept subjecting him to physical training sessions. Even though his desire to be a healer rather than a warrior was accepted by the brothers, all three agreed that until Moldy was destroyed, it was Harry's skills as a fighter that were required and therefore needed to be trained. And so he had kept putting off a question that was really bothering him. When they retired for dinner that weekend, Harry seized the opportunity.

“Are you going to tell Remus the truth about you two?”

Tony looked out the window thoughtfully and then shook his head after a while. “There's been too much going on between Sirius and Remus. I know we always seemed so close, but the truth is we clung to what was taken from us rather than accepting reality. Remus, like everyone else, believed I had betrayed James and Lily, that I had been responsible for their deaths. Besides, he didn't even check on you. Remus grew up in the Mundane world and lives there himself because it is easier for him to find work. He couldn't give me a satisfactory answer for his behaviour other than 'Dumbledore said'. I think if I hadn't been in Azkaban, things would be different. But like this? No, I'd rather concentrate on my new life and try to build an existence with you and Artaius.”

Harry nodded in understanding. He had been expecting something like this, had Remus' behaviour given him pause too.

“But there's another reason I'm trying to limit contact with Remus. I just can't understand him. He whines and moans about having such a hard time. But it's his own fault. There are so many nations where werewolves live a respected life. They live in packs that are pillars of society. But here in England, werewolves have become deformities of their own selves. Because they have been forbidden by law to do regular work and the packs have become a perversion of their origins. I know of two packs in North America that are extremely well integrated. One lives on the border to Canada and the other is one of the founding families of a small town in California. Both families can take the form of a wolf regardless of the course of the moon, although their moods are a little more erratic when the moon is full. But this is also nothing unusual in parts of Eastern Europe. As I said, Remus is making it easy for himself. He's intelligent enough to find a really good job, he just likes himself too well in the role of victim.”

Artaius nodded in agreement.

“It really is unbelievable how not only werewolves, but all who are a little different are treated in Britain. Only, unfortunately, our hands are tied at the moment. In a few years though,” he grinned slyly and then looked at Harry. “In a few years, a certain Duke will be of age and in a position to change a few things.”

Harry blinked, but then laughed. “Let me survive Hogwarts first, and Moldyshorts. Then we can make plans for a British Revolution.”

tbc....