Godfather And Godson

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Walking to the old man's office for his private lessons with instead of going to his double potions which he used to do on the Fridays. He greeted the gargoyles guarding the front and walked into the grand and magnificent circular office.

Harry noticed once again that the old man wasn't in, which was good for him really since he didn't have to deal with him. Let him be boggled down at the International Confederation of Wizards.

He did however take notice of was the beautiful flaming red bird perched on a lovely wooden stand. It gazed at him once he entered, and Harry just nodded his head to Fawkes and tossed him a treat from his Lordship ring.

Setting up his cauldron and putting it to a simmer on top of the claw-footed desk, Harry opened up his potion book to a certain page which was the potion he would be working on for the day.

In just a matter of an hour or two, Harry was done with his potion and set it aside for the old man to look over when he came back.

Since he had plenty of time, Harry did what he usually did, and went to the shelves filled with endless tones on a variety of subjects on magic.

Harry just couldn't believe all the knowdgle contained in here, it was indeed a very vast collection of magical tones, spell books, rare magic theories, valuable experiments, ground breaking research, and so much more.

He couldn't help as he had to wipe the drool that always slipped out the corner of his mouth when he gazed up at this great collection. Since there was no one here to stop him, or tell him off he ran his fingers along the books reading off the titles until one grabbed his interest and he pulled it off the shelf.

Heading over to seat himself in one corner to relax and read, he heard a squawk, and turning around to look at Fawkes, he saw the bird gazing at him. Already Harry knew what that look meant, "Are you not afraid of becoming fat, Fawkes?" he asked with a deep chuckle as he took out another treat and tossed it to the flaming bird.

Looking at him angrily as he caught the snack from right out of the air, he tore into it as if to say, 'NEVER!'

"Suit yourself," he said with a shrug, "don't blame me when you become too fat to even lift yourself up into the air," he teased.

Squawking angrily at him as the giant flaming bird waved its wings around, Harry had a good laugh as he run to sit himself near the fireplace where he was nice and toasty.

Soon, Harry was relaxing back on a bean bag he summoned and enjoying his evening as he devoured some books.

He was so absorbed with his book that he didn't even notice it when someone came through the fireplace. Then the stranger came up to him and muttered, "Mmm, Unique Defensive Arts of Castles, really is a good magic book!"

Jumping up as his book was tossed to the side, Harry was out with his wand in a flick and was already in a defensive stance.

"Professor Dumbledore," he said in surprise as he turned to face the speaker.

"I see you are quick on your feet," the old man softly smiled while not being unfazed in the least bit with the wand pointed at his face.

"Sorry," Harry said as he put away his wand, "You just surprised me."

"No problem, my boy," the old foggy answered as he rubbed his long silver beard. "So how is my collection?" he asked with a grandfatherly grin.

"Your collection?" he asked as he looked at the book laying on the side. "It was all Fawkes idea," he simply answered as he pointed to the fiery bird l.i.c.k.i.n.g its chops.

Turning around to look at him with a very human like an expression of surprise and shock, the bird begin to screech at his blatant outright lie.

However Harry kept his expression cool and did his best to ignore the giant flaming fireball that was looking daggers at him. It would be best from now on, to watch his back all the time he imagined, or else the bird might get the jump on him to exact its revenge.

Breaking into an uproarious laugher, the old man bent over as he wiped the corner of his eyes. "I would imagine you bought him off with treats huh? You always did love snacks, and would double cross me for any."

"I hope that I didn't offend you Professor?" he asked with a bowed head. Most people would see it as a great offense if you perused their magical collections, wizards are just that way, grubby with knowledge as they keep it close at hand.

"Oh, no it's alright, my boy," the man waved his hand, "I take great joy in seeing you that hungry for knowdgle. It is the making of a great wizard, and the basic tenets really, that you should seek knowdgle at all cost!"

"Thank you, Professor," he said with a bow of his head. Still that did not mean he turned to look him in his eyes, the old man was a master in Occlumency and Legilimency. The goblins told him what went down, and so did the poor Secret task force agent. He could easily read another's mind, and get them to do what he wants, or block off certain memories.

Even with all the training he done in the Mind Arts, he was still warily of the man, and if he got a hint of deceit from him. Then let's just say he was a done man...

"So how did the gathering go at the International Confederation of Wizards go?" he asked. The news had yet to be out of how tings played out, so he was curious to get first on report of what went down.

Sighing as he shook his head, "Politics, it took them ages for them to remove me out of my Supreme Mugwump position. Now they will gather for the next month or so as they go back and forth deciding my successor."

"Aren't you sad?" Harry asked, the Supreme Mugwump was a very high ranking post, you basically lead the whole wizarding society all over the globe.

"I am glad," he answered, "now I can give my true focus to what I value the most, this school. And who knows," he shrugged his shoulders, "now that I got plenty of time. I might teach again."

"You were the Transfiguration Professor right?" he asked to which the old man nodded his head. "So do you plan on firing Professor McGonagall?"

"Hahaha," immediately the old man broke into laughter as he shook his head from side to side. "You think I can, I would be sitting with rear reddened. No, I might delve into teaching Alchemy."

Harry of course heard of the old man's accomplishes in Alchemy, his skills were legendary, and he had achieved a number of advancements in the field.

"Well I can't wait until the day we experience your wise mentorship, Professor," he stated with a nod.

"There is no need to call me Professor and such. Just Headmaster is fine," the old man pronounced.

"B-but aren't you going to be my Potions Professor? Snape always insisted on being called Professor," he replied.

"Ahh," the old man said with a sigh, "you should call him that, he does deserve a bit of respect."

"Ha," Harry chuckled, "I believe I never will. After what he did... There is no way I am calling him that. He is likely I haven't been calling him other names," he replied with a growl.

"He was wrong for what he did, my boy," the old foggy tried to advise. "And I am sure he is deeply sorry for losing control of himself like that. It must pain him greatly every day to see one of his old students separate from him like that on such bad terms."

"Him, sorry," Harry asked in mock surprise, "If I know him best, which I do, that sniveling snake what be secretly dancing inside with joy. And separating from his student and all that, he would be glad to see me gone and never come back in his class. Well, so am I. Who even needs him, he is a horrible teacher, and hates my guts."

"Now my boy," the old coot tried to settle him down, "You do not know the pressures your teacher is on, and that is not true. He values you, and all his students."

"Well then, Professor, I must sadly tell you that you do not know your own Professor as much as you think," Harry declared. "All he cares about is himself, and no one else."

"That's not true," the old man argued, and seeing his arguments weren't having an effect on him. "Did you know he and your mother used to be best of friends?"

Looking at him, but not at his eyes, Harry's eyes narrowed, "Yes, Sirius told me all about it," he answered. He could already tell what the man wanted to do, make him have some sort of sympathy for the greasy bat.

But Harry knew the truth, and wouldn't fall for his half truths. "He also told me how he called her a mudblood, and fell in with the wrong crowd."

"I see," he said with a nod of his head, he tried his best to hide his disappointment, but Harry could see how his failure annoyed him.

"You must know though," he said, "Snape still loved and cared for your mother."

"Well that one way to show it," he chuckled, "use a derogatory slur on your friends. I must really remember that to show my friends how much I care for them!"

Sighing, the man tried once more, "You have to understand, Professor Snape was under a whole lot of pressure from his house. And you know how children and even a.d.u.l.ts react under peer pressure."

"So what," Harry said with a sneer which could match Snape's very own, "I don't care what others think. I would never call my friend that word, no matter what. Do you see me going around and doing that to Hermione, Colin, and my other muggle-born friends?!"

"You truly are made of much sterner stuff," he admitted with a nod of his head.

"Yeah, I had to be living under my relatives," he replied as he crossed his head, making his sly remark known to him.

"I truly am sorry for that, my boy," he answered as he got the old man's usual grandfatherly vibes. "I never intended for you to suffer so. If I had known earlier what they made you go through.... Let's just say muggle jail would have been the least of their worries."

"That's good to know, and it reassures me very much," he blatantly lied, he imagined he never will forgive him for sending him to those so called relative of his. Anyways, he doubted the old foggy was sorry about it, more likely he was sorry about losing track of him and where he stayed.

"I heard you broke your friendship off with Ron," the wrinkly old goat asked.

"You heard right," Harry answered with a shrug. "He held me back, and was a jealous git. Not really friend material."

"Now come," Dumbledore said, "he is your friend..."

"used to be," Harry cut in.

"Used to be your friend," he amended after he saw he wouldn't change his mind. "that is no way to speak of him."

"Since you heard that we cut ways, do you know why?" Harry asked as he looked up at him.

"Yes, sadly I heard what he said to you and your reaction which I must say was a bit explosive, but still it was wrong of young Ronald to say that of you. And I am sure he is deeply sorry."

Harry wondered for a moment if the old man ever got tired of spewing out the same old bullshit. Ron and Snape be sorry for what they had done, was a sniveling old bat, and the other a jealous prick.

He could already imagine they were stewing with self righteousness and all, thinking they were in the right and the world should bend their way.

"If you know what he said then," Harry declared as he stayed on topic, "then there is no way I can ever be friends with someone as heartless and cruel as that. I would have been calling him one of Voldermort's crones if I didn't have a much better opinion of the Weasley family."

Sighing once again as he saw that he would be able to change his opinion, the old man stated, "I know better than anyone the loss of a friendship, and it is not something break away and lightly toss off. I have lived for long years, and regret those old friendship."

"Well I am better of without Ron, already I am doing very well in all my class, top marks in all, you can ask all my professors. Each of them is singing praises for me, even Professor Septima Vector who I never thought I would get along with, she is already calling me her best student," he said with a straight face.

If only he knew why...

"That's good to know," the old coot nodded his head.

This is my Harry just didn't want to be under the so called tutelage of the old coot, he knew he would try to manipulate him one way or the other as he tried to fit him in his grand plans, whatever they were.

"Well, could we get to our one on one Potions?" he asked as he waved his hand to his desk to show him all the potions he prepared just like how he asked during this past month he was gone.

"Yes, let's do that," he said as he hung his pointed wizard hat and came over to the desk.

Checking his potions, the old wizard gave his some advices and he gladly took note. Unlike Snapw you would just toss a grade at you, and never tell you how to improve or the mistakes you made, Dumbledore at least took the time to tell him some tricks to better his potions, where he went wrong, and everything in between.

Harry jotted everything down, and they even decided the steps he took and what to do better next time. After a while of going through everything, he gave him some reading material that he should look over, with the added bonus of no homework. Just a small quiz on what he learned.

With that class was basically over.

Just as he was packing up for the day, Harry turned to face the old man, "Headmaster, I think you should look into Professor Alastor Moody."

"What for?" the old man asked as he looked up to face him in his seat.

"Well," Harry said, "he isn't who he truly is."

"What do you mean?" the old wizard asked with narrowed eyes.

Harry thought long and hard about what to do about his knowdgle, he knew he had to play it smart. He was sick and tired of always being in the dark, on the defensive, now he wanted to be the one on the offensive and stick at Voldermort where it hurt.

Plus more than anything he wanted to keep Dumbledore busy from all his secret plans he got going.

So what better way than to have them collided with each other.

Why not let his two greatest adversities fight it out while they weakened themselves, and he grew in power and strength.

"Well instead of Moody being here, it seems like Barty Jr. is here in his place. I think he must be under Polyjuice while keeping poor Mr. Moody near at hand."

Getting up from his chair, he could see the look of surprise on the old man's face, "What!? How! That couldn't be."

"It's true, you can check with your Magic Sight that's exactly what I have done," he admitted.

Turning to look at him in surprise, the old man asked, "You have Magic Sight?"

Nodding his head, Harry knew he would have to admit that fact for his story to add up and not get the old man's suspicion.

"That's very rare indeed," the headmaster noted.

Getting back on topic, Harry continued, "I think he must be here on the behest of Voldermort. It's the only thing that makes sense."

"Yes, but what for?" the grey haired wizard mused out loud as he rubbed his beard in contemplation.

"Of course to come after me!" he snorted. "It's like the guy is obsessed with me, and I would have thought he held a fancy for me if he hadn't killed my parents."

"That isn't funny," the old man said in a stern voice.

"But it's true," Harry said, "there is something, I don't know what, but he is after me for some reason."

"Well I would look into that," Dumbledore said, "thank you for bringing it to my attention. You don't have to worry about it."

"Come on Headmaster," Harry w.h.i.n.ed, "you say that now, but somehow I would be facing him during the end of the years."

"That's not true..." he tried to argue, but with one look from him, he sighed. "I guess you are right. You do have some way of getting yourself into trouble."

"Let me be your assistant, Professor," he argued. "I can help you, and you can help me."

"No way," the old man shook his head.

"You just admitted it yourself somehow I would be facing him. If I know all the details, and go into this with a clear plan I might actually come out on top instead of having a pyrrhic victory or close shaves."

Peering at him for a long while, Harry could see his words were having a clear effect, so he pushed on.

"Who is the one that took on a evil possed Professor, then a giant Basilisk thousands of years old, followed by a criminal convict who turned out to be alright, then a werewolf, some death eaters....."

"Okay, okay, I get it," the old man said as he held out his hand for him to stop. "I will allow you to help in uncovering Voldermort's plot, but.... you must listen to what I say and follow my instructions to the letter. If you don't...."

"You don't have to say," Harry interrupted, "I will be your dutiful assistant."

'While plotting your eventual downfall,' he thought darkly.