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SIYE Time:12:11 on 29th March 2024
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That Terrifying Momentum
By Caleb Nova

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Category: Post-OotP, Alternate Universe
Characters:Albus Dumbledore, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Other, Ron Weasley
Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama, Humor, Romance
Warnings: Disturbing Imagery, Extreme Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Violence
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 24
Summary: To every action there is always opposed an equal reaction: or the mutual actions of two bodies upon each other are always equal, and directed to contrary parts. An AU sixth year.
Hitcount: Story Total: 89328; Chapter Total: 3460







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5

Some Internal Bell


There was something lonely about Hogwarts during the summertime.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore strolled through the school in no particular hurry and with no firm destination, his footsteps echoing in empty hallways and classrooms. There was an anticipation on the air, as if the building itself knew that soon its occupants would be returning in all their chattering, lively glory. Of course, Dumbledore reflected, it was entirely possible that was literally true. Hogwarts had many secrets, and although he was the Headmaster he sometimes still felt as if he were merely passing through a history no one could ever hope to transcend.

He had spent a great deal of his life within the castle walls. Though his many years weighed upon him on occasion – some days more than others – he had never lost his passion for the process of learning. It was always like new to him, the deep satisfaction he derived from seeing the desks lined with children, the opening of young minds, the text books and quills and essays scrawled over parchment. The halls filled with the hustle and bustle of youthful energy. That was the essence of Hogwarts.

And it caused him no small amount of pain that of late, Hogwarts had instead become a fortress.

He was no longer simply the kindly and eccentric Headmaster; he had become a guardian, bearing the burden of being the only wizard that Voldemort feared. The protections and wards of the school were now less an expected tradition of secrecy then a cruel necessity. Even those had proven to be less than sufficient at times in the past. Yes, it was true that Hogwarts was more secure than most places outside of it… But no place was truly safe.

Dark thoughts for such a beautiful day. Dumbledore found himself at the top of the Astronomy Tower, looking out over the grounds in the morning light. With the dew on the grass shooting back the sun's radiance under a china blue sky, it was hard to maintain a moodier demeanour. It reminded him that though things were bad, they could be worse. He had some key advantages over Voldemort this time, including the unlocked puzzle to the Dark wizard's apparent immortality.

Dumbledore also counted Harry among his assets. The boy had shaped into a man, and a powerful wizard besides. It would be Harry who decided how the war would end, though Dumbledore would help him in every way possible. An important first step had already been taken with the destruction of the ring. The cost had been great, and terrible, yes… But no sacrifice was too much to bear. Voldemort could not be allowed dominion.

Consciously removing himself from such pondering, Dumbledore took one last look out over the grounds and lake, noting the smoke coming from the chimney of Hagrid's house. He would have to visit his loyal groundskeeper for tea sometime soon.

"Sure is nice out."

If age had slowed Dumbledore's reflexes, then it was a negligible weakening. His wand was firmly in his hand, hidden underneath his sleeve, in less than a second. Shifting his grip slightly on the handle, he turned calmly to face his unexpected visitor.

A young man leaned against the parapet to Dumbledore's right. He was dressed in Muggle summer clothes. He appeared to be fifteen or sixteen years old, though he was tall enough that he might have been older. His dark blond hair and lean face with a straight-edged nose combined with the grin he wore to spark something in Dumbledore's memory. It wasn't until he looked into the laughing grey eyes that true recognition shot through him.

The teen stood from his slouched position. "It would seem to be that time again."

"Scott Kharan," Dumbledore said softly as the memories were dredged to the surface of his mind.

In the first years after the incident it had been easy to put it out of his mind. It would always be intrinsically tied to the memories he had of that dark time in history, but he'd had a busy life. It wasn't until a former student named Tom Riddle had started to alter the course of the world that the words spoken by that strange man amidst the ruins of an apartment building came back to haunt Dumbledore. They echoed in his remembrance.

In the future, there will be a war. You will win this war. Near the end of the war there will be a Prophecy. You'll know what to do. Eventually a second war will start and that's when I'll show up

And now had Kharan truly done that impossible thing?

and ask for that favour from you.

There had been a war, and they had won. And there had been a Prophecy. Now the second war was upon them. Lately, Scott Kharan had very much been on Dumbledore's mind. It had been only a year since he had gone to the Department of Mysteries and read through thousands of dusty of pages, scanning the records of Seers for any prophecies made by one Scott Kharan. He had found nothing; but, surely the man had been a Seer. The other alternatives were too far-fetched to contemplate.

And yet there seemed little question that it was the same Scott Kharan who now stood before him, inexplicably younger. The resemblance was quite exact and his knowledge only confirmed it. Still, the eyes could deceive readily enough. It would be foolish to accept without question.

The boy nodded in acknowledgement. "Correct. And here I was thinking you might not remember me… Old people being what they are."

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth quirked at that. "Since I believe I last saw you fifty-one years ago, I'm not sure you are in a position to insult my age."

"Touché." Scott saluted him mockingly. "I guess we're all wizened here."

That intrigued Dumbledore. Scott clearly demonstrated the ability to alter his age. Unless there were limits he was unaware of, that would mean Scott could have lived any number of years. "Are you in fact older than me?"

Scott shrugged. "Time is relative. We can get into that later, if that's your thing. It's not that I don't enjoy your company, but I've got some other junk to do."

If the boy intended to go straight to the answers then Dumbledore had no intention of stopping him. "We can use my office. This way," he said, leading Scott back down the staircase.

They passed through the Entrance Hall on their way, Scott looking around with some interest. He seemed particularly preoccupied with the layout of the school, and asked Dumbledore several questions about the destinations of the corridors and staircases they went by. Soon they reached the gargoyle which guarded the entrance to the Headmaster's Office.

"Pepper Imp," Dumbledore intoned, and the statue moved aside. Scott looked curiously at the moving stairwell as it took them to the office.

"Not everyday you see a stone escalator," he commented.

They passed through the heavy oak door into the office. Dumbledore sat behind his claw-footed desk and waited for Scott to stop wandering the room, where he was inspecting the various odd and ends that adorned the shelves and bookcases. For someone who had professed to be in a hurry, Scott was certainly taking his time.

After inquisitively poking one of Dumbledore's silvery instruments, Scott finally sat down. His gaze, however, did not linger long on the Headmaster. Instead, even as he talked Scott's eyes were busily assimilating the room. "I have to say, I like your digs. Cool bird, too." He rubbed Fawkes' head, to the Phoenix's obvious pleasure. He pointed to Gryffindor's Sword, sitting in a glass case next to the Sorting Hat. "I bet that's a conversation piece." He then favoured Dumbledore with a piercing look. "Though not as much as your hand."

Dumbledore had been wondering when that would come up. Certainly he would not be trusting Scott with the knowledge of the Horcruxes. The man, or now boy, was almost a complete unknown, his motivations and allegiances a secret. Instead, Dumbledore merely smiled and tried to pass it off as nothing. "A bit of a magical accident, I'm afraid."

"Anything I can help with?"

Dumbledore smiled easily. "No, I'm afraid this particular problem is mine alone."

"Suit yourself. Back to business, then: I gave you something in Köln."

With some ceremony, Dumbledore stood and went to the entrance of his private quarters. He passed inside and returned moments later with a familiar envelope held gently in his left hand. It hadn't been opened. Sitting back down, he set it on the desk between them.

"Looks like it's still in good shape," Scott observed. "You keep it in your sock drawer?"

"Yes," Dumbledore replied, some of the twinkle returning to his eyes.

"Okay. I'll tell you what's inside of it, and then you can open it up."

Dumbledore picked up the envelope and held it in his good hand, studying the yellowed paper. "It will satisfy a very long standing curiosity."

Scott took a deep breath and recited,

"This is a password,
A past written sign.
The outside is yours,
And the inside is mine.
Open it with your hands,
Memorise with your mind.
Trust not to your senses,
Instead cleave to this rhyme:
Fear not the fighting,
Or the cliffs yet to climb.
The journey is dangerous,
But our real problem is Time."

Dumbledore did not move to open the envelope as he absorbed the message of the poem. Time… That was indeed a force to be reckoned with, but in what precise duration? The most obvious answer was the time until Voldemort reached his full strength. He speculated that perhaps there were other constraints of which only Scott was aware.

Resting his injured hand on the envelope to hold it into place, he smoothly ran a letter opener through the top of it and withdrew a musty piece of paper. He unfolded it, and felt some small measure of satisfaction that the neatly printed words it held were identical to those Scott had spoken.

Setting it down, he gave Scott a slight smile. "Does that confirm our respective identities, Mr Kharan?"

Scott grinned. "So formal already? I had thought you might save that for when I begin attending your fine centre of learning."

Of all the things Dumbledore had expected to hear, that hadn't been even close to being one of them. He stared at Scott over his half-moon glasses. "You wish to attend Hogwarts?"

"Most of the time, yes," Scott replied more seriously. "I might have to leave now and then to take care of some things. It's a matter of proximity."

"You have stated several times that you have some objectives to see to," Dumbledore was perplexed, and looking forward to some concrete answers, "but I don't understand how attending the school will help you accomplish them."

"You could hardly be expected to. Let me tell you, though – it's one hell of a story."

"I am almost breathless with anticipation."

There was a minute of stillness as Scott seemed to wrestle with a way to begin. He laughed a little sheepishly. "It's hard to find the starting line. There's so much background… Well, I'll start with the very basics. What do you know about the universe?"

Dumbledore blinked. "In what capacity? The universe is rather encompassing."

Scott sighed. "I always do this wrong. You're a smart guy; allow me to be blunt. This isn't the only universe. There are many of them, and all together we refer to them as the multiverse." He fidgeted in his chair. "I wish I had something to illustrate my point. Anyway, the multiverse is a big place. So big that we've never seen the end of it, and there are millions and probably billions of universes in which we've never even set foot. So for the most part, the majority of universes exist without any interference. Now, that's not all that difficult a concept to grasp. People have been supposing the existence of other universes for a long time, in one way or another. But all those universes – sometimes they get broken." Scott looked at Dumbledore. "Okay, progress check. Are you with me so far in any way, shape or form?"

"There are many universes in existence, which in whole are called the multiverse," Dumbledore summarised, "and on occasion things can go wrong with them."

Scott looked relieved. "That's a good basis. Now we understand that there are many universes and that they can have problems. What you don't understand is how I fit into that picture any differently from you." He pointed at himself. "What makes me special, that I should know any of this? We might imagine that the vast majority of people living and dying in our boundless collection of universes will never know there are others besides their own, and why should they? The fact that other populaces are living in some distant parallel world you can't even reach means nothing to the shape of the average life. Well, in my case, it's largely a question of occupation. Maybe not so much that I know, but that I care. You're the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and that means you know more about this school than any living person. I'd imagine your caretaker knows the floor plan of the building like the back of his hand. Your job decides a great deal of what you know… So you have to ask yourself, what is the transuniversal equivalent of a custodian?"

"I haven't the slightest idea," Dumbledore said, "but I imagine you're about to tell me."

Scott stated, "I am a Kharadjai. The Kharadjai are a race of people who possess what is, as far as we know, a unique quality. Some of us are tasked with exercising that quality to preserve and repair universes." He scratched his cheek. "That's about as compact and simple a definition as I can give. There's a lot more to it."

In an odd way, the information that was being poured on Dumbledore was overwhelming to the point where it didn't affect him any more. There was something raw and true about it that spoke to his intellect, confirming past speculations. The picture Scott painted of a multiverse rang some internal bell.

"Difficult to accept? Of course it is," Scott continued. "Ordinary life leaves no room for that sort of supposition to infringe upon what we see as certainty. We Kharadjai are invisible by default. We normally operate in secrecy, of course; who wants to believe in this sort of thing? It's uncomfortable to know that things can go wrong which can't be fixed by normal means. It's only a half-truth, anyway. More often than not we're just a guiding hand, not a cure-all." Scott shrugged. "So, sometimes universes gain a specific purpose. We call this kind of driving force the 'UO', Universal Objective or Objectives, plural. The universe begins to form around this objective, and it becomes vital to continued operation. In order to accomplish it, the universe draws together a group of people, or occasionally just one person. We call them 'Primes', and they are ordered by a level of necessity called 'Priority'. The universe can do without some of them, but there's always at least that one individual who it hinges on." Scott smiled at Dumbledore. "I don't think you need three guesses as to who that somebody is."

Dumbledore nodded grimly, but said nothing.

"So you've got the UO, and you've got the Primes to complete the UO. So what do you need Kharadjai for?" Scott shrugged again. "The multiverse can't be destroyed – no one has that kind of power. So really, if you get right down to it, the multiverse doesn't need us. But, sometimes, people do. It's my mission to make sure the Primes succeed."

Dumbledore broke in. "What if the Primes in question are destructive themselves?"

Scott seemed momentarily startled, as if he'd rarely been asked such a thing. "That's a difficult question, and I really couldn't answer it without a more specific scenario. Most problems can be solved with a delicate touch. The majority of our missions are carried out from the sidelines with careful manipulation and the Primes don't need to know we're there, destructive or not. We generally know what to do, and what not to do. Here, let me clarify that last sentence with an example: there's an evil villain out stomping around, as they seem to enjoy doing so much. The Prime has been chosen by the universe to kill him, but isn't ready yet. The longer it takes, the more people die. There's a Kharadjai watching, and they decide to step in and take care of it personally. The day is saved, right? Unfortunately, no. The universe falls into what we call a 'CLR', a Catastrophe Level Reordering. It's on a universal scale, applicable to everything and providing consequences that are impossible to predict. You step outside of what the universe will allow you, you go against the shape of things to fix something bad, and you'll only cause something different, and maybe something worse. Assuming you can even do what you aren't supposed to in the first place. The shape has its own plans, and doesn't always bend to yours. Risks like that are often unavoidable… but not to be taken lightly. I'm sure you understand." Scott stopped to take a breath.

No wonder Scott was having such difficulty explaining it all, Dumbledore mused. He was attempting to sum up more information than was possible in a single sitting. He let Scott catch his breath, and then prodded him with a question. "So in this case you have revealed yourself to me, which is not what is normally done?"

"No. It is done, but not as often as the more indirect meddling. This is the deal: for this mission I am required to integrate myself with the Primes. Hence I have assumed the age of sixteen and am explaining myself to you. I need you to introduce me as a new student from America. I will then join Harry Potter, and assist him in completing his objective."

"The Prophecy…" Dumbledore said softly.

"Essentially a verbal declaration of the UO. Harry Potter has to kill Tom Riddle. I'll do what I can to help him. When it comes down to Riddle, it'll be up to Potter to take care of it. I can only work on getting him there."

"Why were you required to integrate?"

"I don't know why they pulled me for this," Scott admitted. "To be honest, I was handed the mission in a hurry and I'm behind the clock. They had someone else lined up who backed out, maybe… I'm not sure what the story is. That's part of the reason I'm explaining so much; I'm not fully prepared. You might be, and I could use your help."

"I'll do what I can, but what help could you give Harry?" Dumbledore asked shrewdly. "How did you know the second war would come, and if you have foreknowledge, how much of it are you able to share?"

Scott's expression didn't change, but Dumbledore immediately sensed a reticence that hadn't been there previously. "'Foreknowledge' isn't the right word in this instance. Your universe accelerated towards this moment and I managed to squeeze in during the compression. Our meeting in Germany was random and not significant as far as time and place. It was just where I could catch you."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "I don't believe that addresses my question, not that I fully understand your answer…"

"When your universe was tagged for an operation, there was research done. The compression that is a side effect of UO acceleration would have made things patchy, so it was in bursts, whenever they could duck in and look around."

"So, if I gather correctly, other Kharadjai entered this world at intervals to gather information?" Dumbledore hazarded.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying," Scott said, appearing a bit relieved. "Mostly generalised, the stuff that's writ in the shape. There's a Prophecy, there's a Harry Potter, there's a Voldemort. I'll learn more here at Hogwarts than I did from the papers."

Dumbledore still did not grasp Scott's off-hand mentions of compression and acceleration, but it didn't seem as if the boy was going to explain that particular subject more fully. Dumbledore decided not to press the issue, as there was already more than enough on the table as it was. "I see. I hope your stay here will be illuminating, then. And of course, never hesitate to ask."

Scott nodded and took a deep breath, looking as if he was searching for some way to conclude. "I'll wrap it all up by saying, look at it this way – it's classical. The ragtag group of heroes go on a dangerous journey to slay a mighty dragon. The unwitting farm boy finds out he's actually a King who has been hidden from dark forces. The last great Magician gives his life to destroy the ultimate evil. A boy named Harry Potter discovers that it is his fate to kill the Dark Wizard who murdered his parents. All I do is make sure the good guys stay alive long enough to win. I'm not the hero of the story, I'm the insurance," he said self-deprecatingly.

Dumbledore sank back in his chair almost wearily, his sharp mind rapidly cataloguing the wealth of revelations that had just been poured into it. He would have much to think about.

Scott was watching him closely. "So. How do you feel?"

"Old," Dumbledore said honestly, pushing his half-moon spectacles back up the bridge of his nose. "But enlightened. I will have to think about what you have told me, and I hope at some time in the future we might sit and talk again. As you can imagine, I have many more questions."

Scott laughed at that. "Hey, I still have questions. It really is true, you never stop learning. And speaking of learning…"

"Yes, your attendance." Dumbledore straightened in his chair. "I'll get you a syllabus and book list. Are you going to be able to keep up with the other students in the sixth year?"

"I've already been ploughing through a mountain of books, so don't worry about that." Scott hesitated. "I can't promise to be a stellar student, but I think I'll be able to scrape by with a passing grade."

Dumbledore nodded. "Will you require any money?"

"Money won't be a problem," Scott assured him. "Only thing I need from you is a signed admissions paper, plus anything else I'll need to have a plausible background."

"I can get the necessary things in order concerning your paperwork. I know some people in the American government who can supply me with the proper forms." Dumbledore withdrew a blank copy of an admissions paper from a drawer in his desk and proceeded to fill it out with an experienced hand. Once finished, he signed it and handed it to Scott. "And where will you be staying?"

Scott frowned. "My sister is still working on that, but I'll let you know."

"You have a sister? Will she be enrolling also?"

"No. She'll probably drop in to check up on me, though. She likes interrupting my work," Scott grimaced.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in merriment. "Family is the burden we love to bear."

"Speak for yourself. Anyway, basically I need a ticket into the sixth year class. Other than that, I need to get into Gryffindor. I'm already here, there's no point in working from a distance. How would I do that?"

"The Sorting Hat will assign you your house in a sorting ceremony we hold before the first meal. Will is very important; if you wish to join Gryffindor house, the hat will sense it."

"Is that the hat in question?" Scott asked, pointing towards the shelf where the Hat was kept.

"Yes, it's kept here until the ceremony."

"Okay… Do I put it on and just think about Gryffindor, or…?"

Dumbledore smiled. "No, no. The Hat is alive, in its own way. Its a very powerful magical artefact. It can hear your thoughts and assess your personality when it is worn. Every student is placed in the house best suited for them on the first night."

"That's all well and good," Scott said, pushing himself to his feet, "but I'd like to have a talk with it now."

Plucking the Sorting Hat off its shelf, he perfunctorily jammed it onto his head.


"What's this?" The voice of the Sorting Hat rang tinnily inside Scott's head, as if a small person were sitting in his ear. "In a hurry to be sorted, are we? Most irregular of course but, well… Let's see what we have here…"

Gryffindor please, Scott thought in a very boring tone, as if he were ordering lunch.

"Hah! Yes, I saw that right away, that sense of humour… They would enjoy such wit in Ravenclaw, you know. And quite a mind lurking in here…"

They might also not enjoy such 'wit' being directed at them.

"Perhaps, perhaps. Slytherin, no, that's out of the question… There's cunning, but surprisingly little ambition; curious, for one so young…"

Yes yes, it's all a rich tapestry. How about laying some Gryffindor on me now.

"Oh no, Mr Kharan, I'm not done with you yet. Loyalty, I see here, too, though not blind, it must be earned…"

Get to the courage part already.

"Most insistent, aren't you, but very well… My, my… You do indeed qualify to join the brave Gryffindors. Rarely have I seen such insouciance in regards to conflict. Again, a mystery… Under what circumstances could you have acquired such a disregard for personal safety?"

It's damn puzzling, all right. Guess you better just stick me into Gryffindor before you go crazy trying to figure it out.

"But why, Mr Kharan, why… You've never passed through these halls before, I'd have to have sorted you, and clearly this is not the case so you have no friends at that table… What is it that fuels this desire of yours?"

Maybe I like red and gold.

"Perhaps. Not to be difficult, you understand… I just love a challenge."

There's something I have to do, and I need to be in Gryffindor to do it.

"Very well, you may keep your secrets. I see that the Headmaster is aiding you, which is good enough for me. When the time comes I will place you in Gryffindor where, despite your hidden agenda, you will find a place."

Wait, what? Can't you just sort me now?

"I sort during the Sorting, strangely enough, Mr Kharan. When that day comes, sit on the stool in the Great Hall and I will sort you with the others… But not before."

And you get to make me the weird kid on my first day, getting sorted in the sixth year.

"I'm a simple hat, Scott Kharan, and I must take my pleasures where I can find them. A very good day to you."

Scott placed the Sorting Hat respectfully back onto its shelf; he admired anything that possessed such a keen insight into human nature. He still wasn't looking forward to being the curio of the hour when he had to be sorted, however.


"Okay, that's taken care of," Scott said with some satisfaction, and turned back to Dumbledore. "I need to head out and get my stuff, figure out where I'm going to live and etcetera. I'll be back later before school starts to pick up anything you need to give me." Reaching over, he grasped Dumbledore's good hand and shook it. "Thanks for at least pretending like you believe me."

"You made a convincing entrance," Dumbledore smiled, returning the handshake. "Before you leave, could you perhaps demonstrate some greater proof? You've spoken of abilities you possess, but I've yet to witness any."

"Fair enough." Scott shrugged "Cast some spells at me and I'll see if I can stop them."

Dumbledore didn't think that plan was very sound. "Forgive me if this seems altogether egotistical, but an inexperienced young wizard like yourself wouldn't stand much chance of blocking me."

"The Kharadjai have power, and I mean it in the most literal sense. The manipulation of raw energy is our speciality, and that's exactly what magic is."

Dumbledore felt somewhat sceptical. "That's quite an advantage."

"I'm simplifying. That's pretty much all I've been doing. We don't have time to give you a crash course in Shaperate 101, so you'll have to settle for face value."

"Very well," Dumbledore accepted. "Defend yourself then." He decided to start light. Raising his wand, he gestured at Scott. "Stupefy!"

The red jet of light shot towards the boy, who remained still. But before impacting it simply vanished without the slightest sound or movement from Scott. Dumbledore could feel the magic being snuffed out like a candle.

Scott raised a mocking eyebrow. "Bad day? Need me to stand a little closer?"

Almost despite himself, Dumbledore felt a little needled by that. He was not accustomed to having his spells, which were often significantly more powerful than the equivalent of other wizards, dismissed so easily. He took up the challenge.

Soon the office was lit by a steady litany of spells, many of them high level incantations that carried injurious power, as Scott calmly evaporated every magical attack sent his way without so much as a wave of his arm. Fawkes backed away in alarm, but the spells never ricocheted – they were completely nullified.

Dumbledore had to concentrate on his casting, but he still watched Scott carefully. The boy was standing in a nonchalant pose that seemed a bit too casual to not be designed. Even though the Kharadjai was making no physical motions to deflect the spells, his eyes were tightly locked on Dumbledore's wand arm, and he appeared to tense slightly when the spells were especially powerful. Whatever he was doing clearly wasn't involuntary.

At last Dumbledore lowered his arm, silently admitting defeat. There seemed little question that Scott had been honest. By rights the last round of spells should have left him unconscious and badly hurt.

Scott tilted his head to one side. "Proof enough for you?"

Dumbledore pursed his lips slightly at the boy's tone. "Perhaps we should try again. What would happen if I were to go considerably faster?"

Dumbledore didn't miss the momentary consternation in Scott's eyes. "…It might be a problem," the boy admitted after a moment.

The Headmaster had no desire to humiliate his new ally. Scott's half-hearted response plainly implied what Dumbledore had wanted to know. "That's enough for now. You will be returning at some point to talk again?"

"Yeah, sure. Right now though, I need to lay the groundwork for my immediate future. I need to talk with Harry, and you can probably expect a letter from him since I'll be dropping your name."

Dumbledore reseated himself. "I will make sure the other teachers are aware that we are gaining a new student from America. Do you have a story as to why?"

"I was just going to say it was a family thing and let people draw their own conclusions."

"Very well, I will leave that to you." Dumbledore peered at Scott over his half-moon glasses with serious eyes. "And I will also say that with all things considered, I wish you success in your venture. I fear we may need your interference on our behalf."

"We'll see how it goes," Scott said levelly. "I don't know if it will make you feel any better, but I've had experience doing this sort of thing. Try to put me out of your mind when it comes to Harry and the Prophecy. Remember, this is his job to do and it involves you, too. Keep doing what you were doing, use my help to further your own ends. Think of me as another weapon in your war, but don't discount the others. It's my job to keep you all alive, but you'll make my job that much harder if you don't keep yourself alive."

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "I will consider what you have told me. Good luck."

"'Once more into the breach,'" Scott quoted. Before leaving the office, he turned in the doorway and sketched a small salute to Dumbledore. Then the door closed behind him, and Dumbledore was left to his thoughts.

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