Brave New World

Rated: M



Disclaimer: I don\'t own the characters or concepts of the Harry Potter verse. No profit was made from this writing.





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Chapter Three



“We didn’t get a chance to ask about your OWL results, Harry.” Hermione paused in lifting a goblet of juice at breakfast the next morning. “How did you do?”



“Pretty good, I guess. E’s in Transfiguration, Herbology and Potions, O in DADA, Care of Magical Creatures and Charms. I got an A in Astronomy, though and I didn’t really care about Divination and History of Magic all things considered,” he answered before eating another forkful of eggs. Not as many O’s as he might have liked but his grades were well enough to take the required NEWT classes to become an Auror.



Snape would give him a hard time this year for having to give Harry special permission for entrance to NEWT level potions but it was the price to pay and he wasn’t going to allow that foul mouthed git to hold him back. The bastard might not know the entire contents of the prophecy but even a fool could figure out it would all come down to Harry and Voldemort in the end. Even Snape couldn’t deny it was important for him to receive that training for the War.



If he lasted that long, Harry though morosely. If Voldemort had his way, Harry wouldn’t live to see his eighteenth birthday let alone long enough to begin Auror training.



“’Mione scored perfect OWLS across the board of course,” Ron announced over a mouthful of food. It was a testament to six years of friendship that Harry understood a word he said.



“Ron, swallow,” Hermione rolled her eyes in disgust. “Did you manage your NEWT potions?”



“Yeah, Dumbledore arranged things with Snape.”



“Poor bastard.” But Ron’s voice wasn’t all that sympathetic. In fact, he sounded downright amused. “I fortunately don’t have to suffer through another year of that greasy bastard’s put downs.”



“And you won’t be eligible for Auror training either,” Hermione pointed out.



“Then I’ll just have to scratch up something else!” Ron snapped back.



“Perhaps if you had studied harder during the year you would have managed more than an A on your potions OWL!”



“Not everyone lives and breathes books-“



“So what other classes are you taking ‘Mione,” Harry interrupted before a real argument started. Ron and Hermione might be dating but their arguments seemed to be as much apart of their relationship as the snogging.



“Oh the usual, though I dropped Care. It conflicted with Arithmancy and I’d much prefer that class anyway. I can always study on my own and take the NEWT later if I really need it.”



“So you didn’t pick any of the new ones?”



“New? No, I have a full course load as it is. Besides, those new classes weren’t NEWT level. I did pick up the Apparition class in the spring. Are you taking something new?”



He had sat on the side of his bed with interested amazement when he read through his Hogwarts letter because he hadn’t known there were other courses offered. Many of them looked interesting, like Wizarding law, just in case the Ministry decided to go after him again, and the Spell Crafting where he imagined designing the perfect hex to both get rid of Voldemort and make the bastard suffer all at the same time. Unfortunately, Dumbledore had posted a side note to his letter, saying he wanted Harry to keep much of his schedule clear for private instruction.



“Just the basic healing course along with Apparition in the spring. I thought it might come in handy, you know, with the war and all.” He had put his foot down on that one regardless of what Dumbledore wanted. “What about you Ron?”



“I managed Charms, Transfiguration, DADA and Care of Magical with E’s. Got A’s in Astronomy, Potions and Divination,” he finished the last in a near mutter and shoved another large spoonful of porridge in his mouth trying to cover his words.



“You actually passed Divination?” Harry couldn’t believe it. For most of the work, they had made up stuff for Trelawney.



“Sight runs in my mum’s side of the family,” Ron shrugged it off, “Said she always thought I had a touch of it and I probably would have done better in the class if I actually did the work.”



“I think that goes for all of your classes,” Hermione added quietly earning a glare from her boyfriend.



“Wow.” Harry didn’t know what to say about that. Ron had never even mentioned that about the Weasleys, only that he thought Divination would be an easy class. “Guess you might have an all seeing eye after all Hun?”



He only had to twist a shoulder to avoid the bit of scone that Ron threw at him. Their giggles were quickly stifled when they saw Professor McGonagall heading in their direction.



“Good morning, Professor.”



The Head of Gryffindor had been steadily making her way down the aisle passing out class schedules and here she was finally, giving the three of them looks of pained tolerance. Unless the average observer looked closer and saw affection mixed in her gaze. Professor McGonagall might be Hogwarts strictest Deputy Headmistress, but she did love her lions.



“Good morning, Mr. Potter. I gather from your rather enthusiastic behavior that you’ll be prepared for class this morning.” It was less a question and more a statement of fact.



“Yes, Ma’am.” He accepted the offered schedule as she moved on to Hermione and Ron.



“Well what do you have?”



“Oh,” he startled at Ron’s voice. “Right, well, let’s see. I have Herbology first thing and Potions later this morning.”



“That means we’re only in a few classes together. “ Hermione didn’t look happy at the prospect either.



“That’s what happens when you have so many classes at NEWT level.” Ron pointed out and as it stood, the three would only be in DADA, Charms, and Transfigurations together. He still had Potions with Hermione and Care of Magical Creatures with Ron but it still wasn’t the same.



“At least the DADA Instructor looked promising.” Hermione was cautiously optimistic given Professor Dumbledore’s introduction last night. While the man appeared to be terribly average in both looks, with his dark brown hair and eyes and unremarkable robes, he had to be better than Umbridge. As a retired Auror, who was reputed to have fought in the first war, he could at least claim experience if nothing else.



“He’s not another Lockheart, that’s for certain.” Ron who had been on the other end of the wand for Lockheart’s attempted memory charm still held a grudge all these years later.



“And he’s using proper books this year, not the rubbish Umbridge had us wasting our time with.” That was probably the woman’s worst offense in Hermione’s opinion. At least in the previous years she had books to replace the awful class instruction. Last term, Hermione had been forced to loot Hogwarts library for knowledge.



“I’m not getting my hopes up too high. Not until after class this afternoon anyway. We could have another Mad Eye on our hands.” Another of Ron’s grudges, the spider demonstration back in fourth year.



“Wait, my Astronomy class is missing.” Harry frowned down at his slip of paper. He had several blocks of time open with only a Private stamp and a class room number as indication of where he should go for class and with no indication of Professor.



Class Times Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday



8:00am Herbology Charms Herbology Charms Basic Healing



(Sprout) (Flitwick) (Pomfrey)



9:00am Priv. Rm7b Priv. Rm7b Herbology Charms Basic Healing



(2nd Flr)



10:00am Potions Transfiguration Potions Transfiguration Potions



(Snape) (McGonagall)



11:00am Potions Transfiguration Potions Priv. Rm7b Potions



12:00pm Lunch Lunch Lunch Lunch Lunch



1:00pm DADA Care Mag. Crea DADA DADA



(Sloan) (Hagrid)



2:00pm DADA Priv. RM7b DADA Priv Rm7b DADA



3:00pm Priv TBA TBA TBA TBA TBA



4:00pm Priv TBA TBA TBA TBA TBA







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As it turned out, he was in Herbology with Neville who made the perfect partner. Easy going, intelligent and practically a genius in the subject, Neville helped to make Herbology interesting because it was a subject he loved and he wanted to share that enjoyment with Harry. The NEWT level class was mixed with Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, so the atmosphere was relaxing and the optimal place to learn. They made plans to study and work on any future projects in the library together on Monday evenings after dinner. It would be an even trade off, Herbology for DADA. Harry knew they both would do well this year.



He had no idea what his next class would be, only knew he needed to rush back inside the castle to the second floor classrooms to find 7b. He would have asked Professor McGonagall this morning at breakfast if she had any idea what the cryptic instructions on his schedule meant but he hadn’t wanted to draw his friends attention to the reason why they would no longer share classes the way they had in the years before.



The room was situated in a somewhat abandoned part of the castle. Causing him to receive more than a few bewildered glances wondering why he was moving in the opposite direction as everyone else.



“Come in Harry, we’ve been waiting for you.” He heard the familiar voice call out just as he placed a hand on the door.



Inside, the space was at least three times larger than a normal class and virtually empty but for a long table and chairs set before a wall long blackboard. The stained glass windows were dusty from disuse but the morning sun still shone determinedly through illuminating the room enough to prove the house elves had at least started cleaning.



“Good Morning, Harry.”



“Good Morning, Professor Dumbledore.”



The two exchanged greetings after Harry had crossed the length of the area. Other than a few Owls during the summer, Harry hadn’t spoken to the Headmaster since the life altering time in his office where Harry had almost destroyed everything.



He wasn’t sure how he felt about the elder wizard now. The first time he saw Dumbledore at his sorting; the man seemed a kind, grandfatherly figure and as the years passed most of that image withstood the tests of time. Dumbledore had always seemed to care for him, was usually there when Harry needed him and willing to dispense small slices of wisdom even if he did seem to be a tad barmy.



Harry didn’t know when that trust began to falter.



Maybe it was third year, when Dumbledore sent two kids off to rescue his godfather rather than helping.



Or perhaps it started when Harry was forced to participate in the Tri-Wizard Tournament which ultimately led to Voldemort’s resurrection.



If not those years, then definitely the recent one, where Dumbledore all but ignored and abandoned him, forced him into that uncomfortable fiasco of Occlumency training with Snape and withheld knowledge about a prophecy pertaining to him that he was entitled to know.



Either way, the sheen was tarnished and the grandfatherly visage all but faded away. Did he still respect Dumbledore? Certainly. He couldn’t have born witness to the duel between Dumbledore and Voldemort and not respected the man’s power and intelligence. Trust that Dumbledore wanted Voldemort vanquished? Yes. To consider Harry’s best interests over the rest of the Wizarding world?



No, and that answer made something harsh and jaded pang in his heart.



Dumbledore and his Order of the Phoenix were charged with destroying Voldemort and stopping his Death Eaters. Not with saving Harry Potter. There was a very big difference between the two.



As usual, he would have to survive on his own.



“Please have a seat.” The graying wizard gestured to an empty chair, “And how are you doing today Harry?” The twinkle in those blue eyes was dimmed, as he had obviously acknowledged the relationship between the two of them had changed as well.



“As well as can be expected, sir. And yourself?”



If he was surprised by the question, Dumbledore didn’t show it. Instead a small smile touched his lips as he answered, “I suppose the same could be said for myself as well. I feel I must apologize for insisting you remain with your relatives this summer, Harry. I’m sure you would have preferred spending the last weeks of your break with the Weasleys at the Burrow.”



That went without saying. “I understood, sir.” Understanding and agreement were not the same.



“I’m sure you did. If things had been different-”



“But they’re not, sir.” Harry interrupted, not wanting to hear excuses.



He spent the summer trapped in a room barely larger than the cupboard under the stairs where he had spent most of his childhood. He was fed inadequate meals through a cat flap on the door. Given ridiculously long lists of chores he was required to finish before the sun went down and verbally abused whenever one of the Dursleys had the inclination, which meant anytime they were within two feet of him. Alone and grieving.



He really didn’t want to hear excuses.



“That’s just the way it is.” He nodded once, to take the sting off his cold words. There was no sense in laying blame. The one thing he had learned this summer was there were more important things and whining like a child over circumstances that he could not change would not keep him alive.



“You’re right, of course.” Harry might hate to see the stricken expression on the Headmaster’s face but he had to focus on the bigger picture. “I’m sure you’ve been wondering about the class blocks on your schedule that were marked Private.”



“You mentioned something in your letter this summer about private instruction; I thought this is what you meant. Though, I did select NEWT level Astronomy and it wasn’t blocked in.”



“Yes, and while pursuing a NEWT in Astronomy is a very worthy ambition, I believe it will be beneficial for you to take advantage of other avenues of learning, as the War shall soon begin in earnest.”



Harry frowned, glancing at the two others listening to their conversation, wondering if Dumbledore should be speaking so freely. Noticing the direction of his thoughts, a soft chuckle emerged from the wizened man. “This brings us to why you’re here. I’d like to introduce you to two of our newest Order members Harry. I’m sure you’re at least familiar with Professor Septima Vector?”



He did recognize her from sitting at the head table during the opening feast. Up close, she was very beautiful. Long hair, dark as a raven’s wing hung in a riot of curls over slender shoulders. She had vivid blue eyes that were smudged with smoky grey shadow and gleamed with wit and intellect.



“Good morning, Mr. Potter,” she greeted him with a quick grin that seemed very friendly.



“Professor.” He nodded in return, trying to keep his eyes anywhere but focused on the image of witch before him. Beneath teaching robes, she wore a simple but very form fitting violet velvet dress. She was covered from neck to floor and still managed to remind him of some mythical siren. If he thought she was beautiful before, that paled in comparison once her entire focus was on him.



“I’m not sure if you’re aware, but Professor Vector instructs Arithmancy here at Hogwarts.” Dumbledore explained.



“Oh, that’s Hermione’s favorite class.”



“And Ms. Granger is very proficient. One of my more curious students.”



“Yes, Ms. Granger is a most formidable witch,” Dumbledore agreed. “However, what you may not be aware of, Harry is Septima’s dual mastery in both Ancient Runes and Arithmancy.”



“How does this relate to me, sir. I didn’t take Ancient Runes or Arithmacy as electives.”



“And it will be my responsibility to remedy that, Mr. Potter,” Professor Vector assured him. “I’m not sure if you’re aware of it, but there is a great deal more to magic than what is instructed here at Hogwarts. After attaining NEWT certification, most wizards and witches, pursue careers, whether they be in the Ministry or another field. Very few remain in the world of academia, and even less attain Mastery of various disciplines of magic we have available.”



“But how does that help me. I can’t attain Mastery in a subject I know nothing about.”



“Of course not child,” she chuckled lightly, it was husky and warm, not mocking at all. “I’m sure you remember Professor Snape’s opening lecture from your first year about foolish wand waving.” She smiled once again at his expression. “Everyone knows Professor Snape’s views on Potions. Most of us feel the same pride regarding our chosen fields. However there is a level of truth to his words. Magic isn’t all about wands, Harry and you’ll need to learn that if you wish to defeat you-know-who.”



“But shouldn’t I have started back in third year?”



“Ideally, yes. I would have guided you toward Arithmacy and Ancient Runes when you were selecting your electives, but I am biased about my subjects.” As much as he loved Hagrid, Harry wished this Professor had been there to guide him as well. “You’re instruction will simply be more intense and faster paced. What I can teach you are various things that may or may not help you in your pursuit. Teach you how to manipulate magic in ways many have forgotten.”



“How?”



“That is what you’ll be discovering during your scheduled times with the Professor, Harry,” Dumbledore drew the focus back to him just as their discussion was getting interesting. “Before we get ahead of ourselves, I’d also like to introduce you to Mr. Leopold Shacklebolt.”



The name sounded familiar. “Is he-“



“Yes, Harry, he would be the younger brother of Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, whom I’m sure you remember.”



The two men’s features were similar enough that Harry could see the relation. In fact, this Leopold looked a lot like what the Auror must have looked like when he was younger. Including the bald head and the neatly trimmed goatee.



It wasn’t usual to find wizards in muggle clothing and even then the items were mixed matched, in awful colors or inappropriate. Shacklebolt looked very comfortable in dark baggy denims and a black v-neck sweater beneath a great looking dark brown leather bomber jacket.



“How do you do, Mr. Shacklebolt?”



“Please,” he grinned displaying a set of dimples and then held out a hand to shake. “Mr. Shacklebolt is my father. You can call me Leo.”



“Then, I’m Harry.” He accepted the gesture with a smile in return.



“Mr. Shacklebolt, will be instructing you in both dueling and defensive fighting.” Dumbledore explained.



It made sense for an outside source to come in, Harry reasoned. Most of the Professors were busy with classes or missions for the Order. Any Aurors would be out working or also on missions as well. And the last thing Dumbledore wanted was to draw the Ministry’s attention once more to Hogwarts.



“It will be my responsibility to get you into shape for this war Harry.” Leo nodded once, serious for the moment. “We’ll be working not just on dueling, though it will occupy a large portion of our time together.”



“What do you mean, into shape?” He was in pretty decent shape, wasn’t he. He played Quidditch. It wasn’t like he was fat like Dudley.



“I’m going to be honest with you Harry.” Leo gave him a very intense look that made Harry nervous. “I have two jobs, one in the muggle world and in the magical world. Both are very similar. At the moment, I’m on temporary leave from Interpol.” At Harry’s sharp gasp, he nodded, “Good, I see you’re familiar with the organization. I also work within the Ministry of Magic within the Department of Mysteries.”



“You’re an Unspeakable?”



“Yes, I am. My point being, during the course of my career, there are times when I can’t use Magic. Whether due to the threat of exposure to muggles or I’m simply unable. You have to be able to defend yourself Harry and to think and get yourself out of dangerous situations. Professor Dumbledore has told me a lot about you and your friends, Ron and Hermione right?”



“Yeah. I can always depend on them.”



“Well, there are going to be times when you can’t. For one reason or another. War isn’t pretty Harry. People die. And our goal is to prevent as much loss of life that we can and defeat you-know-who and his Death Eaters once and for all. Where you are right now, it’s not going to happen. But hopefully, with my help, I can get you there. If you’re willing to work with me, that is. Honest hard work Harry. No short cuts.”



Harry looked at Professor Dumbledore and in that moment probably could have forgiven him for most of the wrongs Harry had faced in his life for finding him this one straight forward speaking man who was willing to help him and wasn’t promising miracles or trying to shield him from reality.



“I’m willing.”