"What did you think of your first formal dinner party?" Severus asked as they walked toward the Longbottom mansion.

It was about 11:30 pm, and the night was cold. Snow was beginning to fall.

"It was . . . interesting," Harry said, thinking back to Dobby.

Severus smirked. "Yes, it was that."

"Sir, is Dobby a . . . slave?" Harry hesitantly asked, slowing in his steps.

The professor held back a sigh. He knew he would need to approach this carefully. Dobby and Harry had many similarities.

"Dobby is a house elf, and yes, he was a slave to the Malfoys." Severus stopped and faced Harry. "You must understand, Mr. Potter, in the Wizarding World, house elves are servants of old magical families. They are bound to them, and much of their magic comes from being tied to the head of house. Many house elves thrive when given work, and fall into despair when they are prevented from serving. They really do love work; they find purpose in it. Remember, purpose is important to any sentient being. Without it, they become lost and fall into depression or turn to things they ought not to. Many dark wizards are merely individuals trying to find a reason for their existence and cannot fathom that a life of kind service would be more fulfilling than a life of conquest."

Harry swallowed. "Is that Voldemort's problem?"

Severus' jaw clenched as Harry used the present tense - ‘is'. The boy understood.

"I don't know. He had been a Hogwarts student a long time ago. His name had been Tom Marvolo Riddle. He had been Head Boy and received full marks in nearly every subject. Even the Headmaster admits Voldemort may have been the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen."

Harry's eyebrows rose.

"Unfortunately, it seems that some of the most gifted individuals have the hardest time discovering a worthwhile purpose. Perhaps it is because they have never truly struggled, as so many things come easy to them, thus they rarely experience the feeling of accomplishment - making their search of purpose all the more difficult. But I am getting sidetracked - back to the issue at hand. Do you have any questions about house elves in particular?"

"Well, how smart are they? I know they can talk, but, I mean . . . are they like intelligent dogs or something?"

Severus smirked. The only reason why he didn't chuckle was because it was a reasonable question, especially for someone raised in the muggle world. "No, they are just as smart as most any person, and they have feelings as well. Which reminds me - clothing. If a master gives their house elf clothing, it frees the house elf from service. Now, understand that most house elves believe this to be the worst thing a master could do to them. To most of their kind, it is the most horrendous thing a house elf can experience in their life."

"So, serving their master is an honor to them?" Harry asked.

"Yes."

Harry glanced at the Longbottom mansion. "But I don't want a slave."

"Who says he must be your slave? I have a house elf, and she is more of a helpful companion to me than anything else. And I believe the Longbottoms have a few elves. Yes, Dobby has become bound to you, but that benefits him as much as you. Do you understand?"

"I . . . think so, Professor."

"Good," he said, before reaching in his pocket and pulling out a little shrunken package. Unshrinking it, he handed it to Harry. "It's from the Hovels. It was sent yesterday and, because Mrs. Longbottom doesn't want to be rushed by owls, was forwarded to Hogwarts with the rest of your mail."

"The rest of my mail?"

"You have been sent a little over a dozen letters. Don't worry, none of them are urgent and will wait for you when you return to school. Most of them are no doubt fans merely wishing to receive an autograph. You don't even really need to reply - might be best if you just leave them be."

"But isn't that rude?"

Severus gave a tilted nod. "Perhaps, but ever since you were an infant you received letters. Thankfully, a few trusted individuals took care of them, placing the letters in a special storage folder and removing any valuables and placing them into your family vault."

"People have sent me things?" Harry asked, his eyes growing wide.

"Money mostly. Thankfully, wizards are practical in that regard. The few items you received are in your family vault - magical items intended for adult wizards."

"Like what?"

"Well, if I recall correctly, someone sent you magical armor. It's too big for you right now, but when are about ready to graduate, it will certainly fit you then."

"Wow," Harry said as they made it to the front door.

O o O o O

Dumbledore sighed, relieved the day was finally over, but not looking forward to the rest of the week.

Cornelius had called for an emergency meeting soon after discovering Harry had, in fact, cured an adult werewolf. The Wizengamot meeting went over two hours, and the time had been spent discussing Mr. Potter. Debates ensued on whether or not Mr. Potter should be asked to heal others and how to organize things if he were to do so. However, all talks were soon cut short and the meeting dismissed when word arrived that several leaders of nearby countries were inquiring to speak to the leaders of the Ministry about news they received surrounding one Walter McCaffrey.

This eventually led to Dumbledore calling an International Confederation of Wizards meeting to order an hour later.

Being the Supreme Mugwump, it had fallen to him to bring order to the chaos that quickly resulted from Fudge announcing what Mr. Potter had succeeded in doing.

Many were astonished, and then quickly began shooting questions, asking things like if Mr. Potter would be willing to sell his services, while others were disbelieving, asking if this ‘miracle' had been verified by anyone outside of the Ministry.

It had all been rather stressful, but finally, after a long and arduous process, those present came to a decision, a course of action everyone agreed upon, at least to some extent.

Soon, likely after Christmas, but still during the break, the Minister, on behalf of the Wizarding World - not merely just the Ministry - would ask Mr. Potter to attend an international meeting. Even though St. Mungos and a Healer outside of the Ministry had verified the success of the cure, many still had doubts and wanted Mr. Potter to heal a werewolf from their country as proof. After much debate, it was decided that fourteen nations would each bring a werewolf from their country to act as a ‘cure verification'.

Dumbledore thought it was a fair compromise, at least compared to some of their other suggestions; however, he still didn't like the idea of exposing Harry to more publicity and having him use a magical art that was very much unknown. But it was out of his hands. Sure, he was head of the ICW, one who kept order and made sure every opinion was heard and discussed, but he didn't have a vote, unless a tie occurred.

Fawkes gave a quiet, encouraging trill.

"Thank you, my old friend, but I really do wish I could make things different. Harry should be a carefree boy. I did not want him to be thrust into all of this, under the scrutiny of nations." Albus shook his head. "But I suppose, he really is unique and amazing. Nothing anyone could do would change that. I only wish he could be himself without causing most everyone around him to stare at him in wonder or denial."

Fawkes gave another soft trill, almost in agreement.

The Headmaster looked at the clock. Severus should be returning soon. Hopefully the party at the Malfoys had gone smoother than his day.

Finally, almost dozing behind his desk, the fireplace flared and his potions master stepped out.

"Headmaster."

"Ah, Severus, the party was uneventful I hope?" he asked, motioning the younger man to sit. They had much to discuss.

"It went better than I had anticipated, although Mr. Potter may find it difficult to completely accept the Malfoys' gift, although it has already become official."

Dumbledore's eyebrow went up in question. "It was an elaborate gift, I take it?"

Severus smirked. "Not sure ‘elaborate' would be the best description. No, Mr. Potter is now the owner of Dobby, the house elf."

The Headmaster's eyes widened. "That is . . . unexpected."

"Quite."

O o O o O

Harry entered his bedroom. Professor Snape had already left, although he had informed Mrs. Longbottom of Dobby after assuring her there had been no issues at the dinner party. She took him by his word before sending Harry to bed.

Neville was already asleep, which was no surprise as Mrs. Longbottom had stated she had made him keep the usual bedtime, not allowing him to stay up for Harry's return. It was just as well. It was late and Harry just wanted to go to sleep. He would open the Hovel package in the morning.

He closed the door, hesitantly turning to face the room. It appeared empty.

"Dobby?" Harry whispered.

-Pop-

Harry jumped, much to the amusement of Coral as Dobby appeared right beside him.

"Master calls Dobby?"

"Er, yeah. I, uh, just wanted to say goodnight and make sure there wasn't anything you needed. Do you need a bed? Where will you be sleeping?"

Harry received no answer, but Dobby's eyes widened exponentially as if he had just heard proof of something completely impossible, like unicorns being seen prancing on mars.

"Dobby?"

The house elf's eyes began filling with tears, and Harry quickly knew he would not like what was coming. Dobby burst into tears.

"Dobby, shush, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you or anything," Harry said quickly, not sure if patting the little guy on the shoulder would make the situation better or worse.

Dobby managed to calm himself, sniffling and wiping his nose on the grubby pillow sheet he was wearing. Harry managed to hide his disgust at Dobby's clothing. The thing the elf was wearing was worse than Dudley's hand-me-downs! Harry decided he would need to do something about that in the near future.

"Offend Dobby? Master asked if Dobby needed anything. . . . Dobby has heard of your greatness, sir, and your goodness, but never did Dobby think Master would be so generous. Dobby never knew. . . ."

Harry was as bright as a tomato. "Generous? All I asked was if you needed anything. Any decent wizard would have done that. And whatever you've heard about my greatness has been exaggerated."

"Master is even humble and modest," Dobby said reverently, his eyes shining with even more admiration. "Master doesn't speak of his triumph over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named nor of his curing of werewolves."

Harry shifted his feet uncomfortably. "Well, it is getting late, Dobby," he said after a moment.

"Of course, Master," Dobby said, hurrying to the bed and happily fluffing Harry's pillow for him.

Harry blinked. "Uh, thanks, Dobby."

Dobby's eyes widened once more, and for a moment Harry was afraid he would start bawling again.

"No problem, Master," Dobby finally said, stifling back tears once more. "Is there anything else Dobby can do for Master? Retrieve a glass of water?"

"No, thank you, Dobby."

Dobby nodded, his ears flapping about. "Sleep well, Master."

-Pop-

:He is a strange one: Coral stated.

:Yeah, well, he's been living with the Malfoys, and even though Draco and Mrs. Malfoy aren't bad, Mr. Malfoy is:

:Point taken:

:Let's get some sleep: Harry said, finally tucking into bed.

O o O o O

Remus put the morning paper down slowly.

Was this actually happening?

Harry, his best friend's son, could cure Lycanthropy. He had even been able to cure Walter McCaffery, who had been a werewolf for over ninety percent of his life. Remus knew Walter personally. He was a reclusive man, similar to himself, and was absolutely horrified he may one day bite someone, just as his father had him.

Walter had been bitten when he had been a toddler, just old enough to walk and talk. One night, his father had broken free from his confinement, and had bitten him before his mother could step in and stop him. Unfortunately, the story is even sadder than that, for Walter had also lost his mother that night. In protecting him, she was killed by her husband - the man she loved and had sworn to stick by no matter what, even after he had been infected with Lycanthropy. Walter's father had been heartbroken and committed suicide even before the Ministry could begin an investigation. Walter's life went downhill from there, jumping from institution to another, before he reached his majority.

Remus shook his head. Even he had had a better childhood than Walter. At least he had been allowed to attend Hogwarts, thanks to Albus Dumbledore. Walter, on the other hand, had been a known werewolf years before he was eleven, and he hadn't had anyone to speak for him to Dumbledore - as he didn't have the nerve or confidence to seek the popular Headmaster on his own.

Remus was truly happy for Walter. If anyone deserved being healed, it had been that man.

"I doubt Mr. Potter would deny healing you if you asked, Lupin."

Remus jumped, forgetting he was in the Great Hall and not alone. He turned toward Severus, who had spoken.

"I suspect he already knows anyway," the Potions Master continued simply.

Remus blinked and swallowed thickly, his thoughts going back to the many times Harry had stiffened in his presence. Had he known then? Had he sensed the wolf and discovered the truth?

What must he think of me? Remus wondered. Teaching at a school with such a condition. . . .

His feelings must have shown on his face, for Severus looked straight at him, a strange sincere understanding rising in his eyes, vastly altering his normally barren expression.

"Do you think he has his mother's eyes for nothing? He sees as she did," he said very quietly, before standing and leaving the Great Hall without another word.

Remus stared after him, speechless, not seeing the Headmaster's contemplative expression beside him.

O o O o O

Christmas day came, and it was the best holiday Harry had ever experienced, despite Mrs. Longbottom's stern presence; however, in a way her being there made it that much more real. She didn't loom over them exactly, but she was there. And, in a way, Harry wondered if she was trying to tone down her normal persona. He didn't know what to think about that.

Dobby remained his dutiful servant, eager to please and terrified of making even the tiniest mistake.

He had opened the package from the Hovels the day before. It was a thank-you letter from Mr. and Mrs. Hovel with a drawn picture by Andy, as well as a little wolf stuffed animal. Harry happily placed the wolf by his bed - the first stuffed animal he could ever remember receiving from anyone.

He had sent a short letter in reply, thanking them for the package and telling them of the white magic he had neglected to tell them about earlier. He hoped they wouldn't be too upset over that. Well, it was too late now.  

Harry didn't get many gifts, not that he had expected a mountain, but they were all perfect. He received one from Hagrid, one from Professor Sprout, another from Professor Snape, and the last from Neville.

Hagrid gave him a flute, Professor Sprout had given him a chocolate frog, Professor Snape (with a note telling him to keep the knowledge of the gift to himself) gave him a set of very nice tools for potion making and a few rare ingredients, and Neville gave him a little plant. It reminded Harry of a tiny tomato plant Aunt Petunia had had him plant in her garden several years back - before they promptly died when Dudley ran over them with his bike.

Neville had also received a chocolate frog from Professor Sprout. He supposed she gave one to all her Hufflepuffs.

Harry gave Neville some candy that he knew he liked, though Neville was surprised Harry would give him another gift, stating he had already given him the wand holster. Harry waved him off.

With gifts exchanged, the day continued happily, though Harry had made up his mind about something.

After dinner, and when it was for bed, Harry closed his door and called Dobby.

Dobby had been present for the unwrapping of gifts, but had vanished soon after that, and the only reason he was present when he had been was because Harry had asked him to.

"Master has called Dobby?" Dobby asked.

Harry looked at him for a moment, trying to decide how to begin the conversation.

"Dobby, you work for me now, and I've been thinking. . . ." Harry paused, Dobby's large wide eyes staring up at him. "The only good thing my uncle has ever taught me was the fact that the workers represent those they work for when they are seen by others. How people see them reflect back to their bosses and the overall company. For you it is the same to me. You reflect on me and the Potter family."

"Is-is Master displeased with Dobby?" Dobby asked, horrified.

"No, no, not at all. In fact, you have made me proud to have you as my house elf, which is why I want to change something." Harry stepped forward and pinched the cloth at Dobby's shoulder, lifting it slightly while holding back a rather Snape-ish sneer. "Can you honestly tell me you like wearing this?"

Dobby's eyes widened once again.

"Well, Dobby? Do you like wearing this?" Harry questioned.

"N-no, Master. Dobby doesn't like it much at all," he finally said, shaking his head and making his ears wag.

"Then, why don't we get you something different to wear? Something proper for a good worker of the Potter Family?" Harry wasn't about to use ‘slave', ‘servant', or anything else. He was also avoiding the word ‘clothing'.

"Master means . . . like a uniform?" Dobby asked, his eyes tearing up.

"Well, unless you would rather not," Harry said, wondering if he should have written to Professor Snape before doing this. Was this another taboo of sorts?

"No-no, Master, Dobby would love a uniform!" he exclaimed earnestly.

Harry smiled. "Alright, then I think I know exactly who to write to have it made for you."

He turned around and began writing a letter to Madam Malkin.

"Well, black, red, and gold seem like strong colors," Harry said, jotting down that request while glancing at Coral, who was dozing. "Hmm, does my family have a crest?" Harry muttered to himself.

"Oh, yes, Master's family has a crest," Dobby quickly answered.

"Then I'll ask for her to put it on the sleeve and over your heart. She should know what my crest is, right?"

"Yes, Master, it is well known."

"Hmm, I suppose she'll need to know your dimensions."

"Dobby can go to her to have it done, sir. I can pop into her shop. Dobby had done it for former family in delivering robe orders."

"Alright. That sounds good; you can take this letter to her later this week and hopefully she can start on it then," Harry said, finishing his letter before placing it in an envelope with five galleons. Harry figured that would be enough. If not, he had stated in the letter to let him know if he owed her any more.

"Master is so good to Dobby," Dobby said after a moment, slightly choked up.

"I have decided I am only as good as I serve," Harry replied.

O o O o O

There were fifty-seven registered werewolves in England, though it was assumed there was at least seventy total.

Severus supposed Harry, if he was allowed, could cure all of them easily in a month's time. Though, whether or not Madam Pomfrey would let him was another matter entirely. Severus had no doubt Harry was capable, but also knew he was only eleven, and his magic still had a great deal of developing to go through. It would not be wise to endanger it, but it would just be as irresponsible to prevent what could be healthy growth and expansion.

So, it was no surprise when the headmaster asked him to attend a meeting in his office concerning exactly that. Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sprout had also been asked to come.

"Is everything alright, Headmaster?" Madam Pomfrey asked, Professor Sprout looking equally concerned.

It suddenly became apparent to Severus that they had no idea what the Ministry was going to soon be asking of Harry.

"Oh, yes, quite alright. I just wished to discuss a few matters concerning a student."

"Is this about Mr. Potter?" Sprout asked.

"And his curing Lycanthropy?" Pomfrey added.

"Yes. Sometime today, our Minister is going to contact Harry and ask him to attend an ICW meeting that will convene later this week."

Pomfrey and Sprout's eyes widened.

"Whatever for?" Pomfrey asked.

"For a ‘cure verification.' Fourteen countries have been selected to bring an individual infected with Lycanthropy to serve as proof. Understandably, there are some doubts about Harry's method and treatment success."

"Fourteen?!" Pomfrey asked.

"Why wouldn't they just be happy with one?" Sprout questioned.

"They don't trust one another enough to do so. If there was only one ‘trial' people would question if the person had even been infected to begin with," Dumbledore answered.

"Oh, poppycock," Pomfrey stated.

"Originally, it was over twenty-five. Thankfully, a few nations were willing to trust the others to actually bring real cases of Lycanthropy so they wouldn't need to bring their own."

"Oh, yes, thankfully," Pomfrey exclaimed sarcastically.

"Poppy, perhaps this will be for the best. Think of what this could mean for others . . . like Remus," Sprout said gently.

"We don't even know how Harry does it. It could be draining his life for all we know," Pomfrey continued.

"It is not," Albus stated, deciding to step in and prevent Pomfrey from getting too agitated.

"Oh, and just how do you know? I don't believe you have gone to the Longbottom's to check on him," Pomfrey said. "The Ministry should not be presenting Mr. Potter like some sort of National Treasure to be used on the world stage!"

"Severus told me what he had learned from Harry when he had taken him to the Malfoy's Christmas party," Dumbledore answered simply.

"What did you learn, Severus?" Pomfrey asked curiously.

"He gains a pure white magic from the dissolved curse. I am not sure of the nature of it, but he stated it helped him cure Mr. McCaffrey," Severus answered.

"‘Helped him'?" Pomfrey asked.

"I believe it acts as an antidote or a vaccine of sorts against the curse. Often times, such things come from the very ailment they are curing."

Pomfrey paused, thinking it over. "Then perhaps there may be a way to obtain this ‘white magic' and use it to cure other werewolves."

"Perhaps," Severus agreed.

"Well, I suppose there is nothing for us to do concerning the meeting," Pomfrey said, calming down. "What did you want to discuss with us exactly, I assume it was more than the meeting?"

"I understand Harry is going to continue working in the Infirmary on the weekends and that you, Pomona, are going to begin giving him private lessons on control?" Albus asked.

"Yes," Pomfrey answered, while Sprout nodded proudly.

"I want to be kept appraised of his progress. He has already surpassed my expectations for his first year and I am certain he will continue to advance leaps and bounds as far as he is able. I want to make sure he remains able - physically, emotionally, and magically."

"Alright, Albus, but what do you intend to do later? I know this is a bit early to be thinking about, but in a few years, at the very least, he will need to expand from what Pomona and I can teach him," Pomfrey stated.

"I will be advancing his potion lessons at some point. Perhaps a term before he takes his OWLs, depending on his aptitude for it as time goes on," Severus put in. "I am already confident enough to say he would be able to brew a second year potion from the text with very little guidance from me if I allowed him."

"I mean concerning his mage abilities. At some point, especially after how far he has already come, his abilities are going to begin surfacing. I don't know much about slumbering mages, but surly there are signs that appear before they awaken?" Pomfrey asked.

"Yes, there are," Dumbledore said. "And honestly he has already begun showing them, but they are subtle. If I didn't know he was a slumbering mage, I would have missed them."

"‘Them', Headmaster?" Severus asked.

This was news to him. Harry was already showing signs? Sure, he was showing great aptitude in magic, but so did a few other students his age, such as Granger and Longbottom.

"I am not sure if it is due to the potion regimen Severus had put him on or even his familiar, Coral, but he has a hold on magic that can actually be felt. Before winter break began, I called him into my office and had him heal a small injury I had suffered in the Forbidden Forest. I wanted to personally see how his parselmagic was coming along," he explained before Pomfrey could pounce on the fact he had not come to her. "His control is extraordinary, and the way he used my magic to heal my hand . . . he controlled my magic as if it was his own.

"I understand that parselmagic does tend to use the patient's magic in the treatment, but for there to be such precision . . . it's a mark of a blossoming mage."

"Hmm, you're right, Albus. He does wield the magic of others remarkably well, even those who are distressed, which is even more impressive, now that I think about it," Pomfrey agreed.

"He was also able to pull in his accidental magic," Sprout reminded them.

"That's another sign. Even I, with over a century of experience and practice of controlling my magic, have a difficult time reining in my magic when I am especially angered," Dumbledore admitted, preventing himself from glancing at Severus who had seen the last outburst.

"Has he shown any other signs?" Sprout asked.

"Not to my knowledge," he answered. "But he is sure to show others as time goes on. One sign involves magical creatures responding to him in a peculiar way. They will often be more accepting of him, while others will be much more aggressive."

Severus' thoughts strayed to Buckbeak, Thestrals, and Dementors. It certainly made sense.

"Another indication is the ability to cast very powerful spells despite not having a fully or even nearly developed core."

Once again, the potions master was reminded of Harry's third year, when he had cast the Patronus Charm. And Harry had succeeded in doing that despite his weakened condition due to the Dursleys. What would he be capable of now?

"The other is the resistance against certain types of magic. His magic will naturally combat against spells wishing him harm or attempting to overpower him."

Severus's eyes widened at that, while Pomfrey and Sprout blinked.

His ability to fight off the Imperius Curse in the future. How had they missed that?! No normal or even gifted fourth year student should have been able to fight off the Imperius. And yet they had just passed it off as yet another of Potter's oddities without much thought.

"Could that have been how . . . with the killing curse?" Sprout asked.

"I am not sure," Dumbledore admitted thoughtfully. "But it is possible."

 "We will watch for the signs, but Headmaster, when should we tell Mr. Potter about this?" Pomfrey asked.

"This is really why I needed to discuss this with you all, as I am uncertain. Part of me believes it may be best not to tell him - to allow him to develop without knowing, at least until he begins asking questions. However, another part of me wants him to be informed, to know at least some of what is in store for him magically, but then I begin wondering how best to approach him with it," Albus said.

"I believe we should tell him this summer, before next year," Severus stated.

"Yes, I agree with Severus. Mr. Potter should be told, and waiting for the summer is reasonable. He already has enough on his plate as it is right now. Waiting for the summer would be for the best, I think," Spout said.

Pomfrey nodded as well. "Mr. Potter already knows he isn't like others his age. I think telling him why that is would be better for him in the long run."

"Very well," Dumbledore said. "We will tell him this summer."

O o O o O

"Mr. Potter, something the matter?" Mrs. Longbottom asked.

Harry stopped, realizing he was poking at his food. "Sorry, Mrs. Longbottom. I've just gotten a letter today - from the Minister." He added the last bit as she began to raise an eyebrow at him.

Evidently, she didn't like that he had received any mail since she had specifically requested his mail be redirected to Hogwarts, save messages from Professor Snape or the Headmaster.

"I see. What did it concern, if you don't mind me asking?" she asked frankly.

"The Minister wants me to go to some ICW meeting because of the whole . . . well, you know."

Neville looked apologetically at Harry. Harry had told him before dinner while they had been researching nerves.

"And have you replied?" she asked after a moment when he hadn't continued.

"Well, it's not like I can really say no. I replied and said I would come, but I'm not sure how I'll be going. I did send a letter to Professor Snape about it though."

She nodded, as if that settled the issue. "Inform me as soon as you learn details."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry replied, not know what else to say.

He went back to eating, forcing his mind to think about other things. He and Neville's research was at a standstill, to be honest. The fact was, wizards didn't really know much about the brain and the nervous system. Sure, they had spells that could influence the mind and all of that, but they didn't seem to really understand the human brain actually worked. Harry had ordered healer textbooks soon after promising Neville they would do research, but it had turned out disappointing. It honestly reminded Harry of the dark ages, in how little the Wizarding World understood. It seemed muggles knew more about the human body and the impact the brain had on it than wizards. Muggles also had methods of really looking inside the brain, using MRIs and CAT scans. He had heard about them when his uncle had been channel surfing. Yes, wizards could do scans, the spells telling them some of what was going on, but they were not given an image allowing them to really understand the problem. This issue also prevented wizards from using other methods of treatment, like surgery.

And that was another thing. It was clear the Wizarding World wasn't too keen on operating on someone. They viewed it as barbaric, rather than necessary and worth the risk as it often was in the muggle world. They didn't understand that sometimes one had to go in and physically remove something, not merely magic it away. After all, how could one magic away something safely if they didn't fully know what surrounded it?

Harry wondered what they would be shown if they gave Neville's parents CT scans. Well, once summer arrived, he knew what he would be doing - visiting the muggle library and reading up on the human brain, and, perhaps, looking up possible doctors who could give him a clue into how he could possibly help the Longbottoms.

O o O o O

Harry woke to the sound of an owl pecking at his window.

:Harry, another bird has something for you: Coral said sleepily.

Yesterday, he had received a reply from Professor Snape, stating the Headmaster would be contacting him concerning traveling arrangements.

Harry got up, opened the window, and took the letter before the bird promptly flew away.

Opening it, he found large loopy handwriting.

Dear Harry,

I will be coming to the Longbottom Mansion at 8 am tomorrow to take you to the Ministry for the ICW meeting. Please have your things packed by that time, as you will not be returning to the Longbottoms this holiday but will instead return to Hogwarts with me once the meeting ends.

I trust you have been enjoying the holidays thus far. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.

Albus P.W.B. Dumbledore

:So we'll be going to the school a few days before break ends?: Coral asks.

:Looks like it:

With that, he began packing, only to pause as he remembered Dobby liked being asked to help.

"Dobby?" Harry called.

-Pop-

"Yes, Master?" Dobby asked, now sporting a handsome uniform.

He was wearing black robes with red embroidery and golden edgings. On his right sleeve was the crest of the Potter House in matching colors and a slightly larger one was over his heart.

Harry wasn't sure, but it seemed as if the uniform had made Dobby more confident and less . . . unbalanced. Perhaps it was because he was getting used to Harry, or maybe it had something to do with what Professor Snape had said about purpose. Either way, the change was pleasant.

"Could you help me pack? I'll be leaving tomorrow morning with the Headmaster, and I want to be ready."

"Of course, master," Dobby said happily, snapping his fingers and causing his things to zoom into the open suitcase.

Harry smiled. "Thanks, Dobby."

"Dobby is happy to help great master Harry Potter, sir," Dobby said proudly, his black, golden brimmed hat balancing somehow between his ears.

O o O o O

"I think he's here, Harry," Neville said, placing Hedwig's cage on his suitcase by the door as Harry turned to Mrs. Longbottom after giving him a nod in agreement.

"Thanks for letting me stay here, Mrs. Longbottom. I've had a great time, it's been fantastic," Harry said honestly.

"Well, Mr. Potter, I am glad you have enjoyed your stay. Perhaps something can be arranged this summer? It would certainly prevent Neville from spending all his time in the Greenhouses," she said.

Harry smiled, while Neville looked quite hopeful at the prospect of his best friend returning during the summer. 

"I'd like that very much," Harry said.

With that, Dumbledore reached the front door and knocked.

"Good morning, Augusta," Dumbledore greeted as Mrs. Longbottom opened the door.

"Good morning, Albus. Mr. Potter is ready to go," she said.

"Very good," Dumbledore said, entering the mansion and glancing at Harry's things by the door. "This everything, Harry?"

"Yes, sir," he said.

Dumbledore pulled out his wand and shrunk everything down and summoned it into his hand before placing it into his pocket. Hedwig had gone ahead to Hogwarts along with Dobby.

"Bye, Neville, see you at Hogwarts," Harry said, moving beside the Headmaster.

"See yuh, Harry," Neville said. "I'll keep reading."

Harry nodded, knowing he was referring to their research, as he followed Dumbledore out the door.

"We will be taking a portkey, Harry. You've used one before, I believe?" the old wizard asked as they began making their way to the edge of the wards.

"Yes, sir, with the Longbottoms."

Dumbledore nodded, pulling something from his breast pocket. "This is a powerful portkey, specifically made to take the user or users anywhere in the world. Today, it will take us to Vaduz, Liechtenstein, the agreed to meeting place for the ICW this year."

"It changes every year, sir?" Harry asked curiously, looking at the cloth in Dumbledore's hand.

A sock?

"Oh, yes, Harry. It aids in international cooperation. Granted, there are those who would argue with me about that."

"Where was it last year?"

"In Paraguay, which is in South America. I do hope to visit there again soon."

"It must be cool to go to a different place every year. Me, I haven't ever really gone anywhere, besides Hogwarts of course. The Dursleys didn't take me with them on trips and had me stay with Mrs. Figg across the street. She has a lot of cats, and they're scary smart. I swear they can understand English better than Dudley - granted, that's not really saying much, but still."

Dumbledore hid a frown, wondering about what other things they denied Harry.

"But I suppose I was better off staying with Mrs. Figg," Harry said. The Headmaster wasn't quite sure if Harry was even talking to him anymore. "At least I didn't need to worry about Dudley blaming me for anything, and Mrs. Figg let me help her make cookies once. They didn't really taste that good, but I think it was because she held back on the sugar."

"How often did you stay with Mrs. Figg?" Dumbledore asked.

"Oh, not a whole lot, just when the Dursleys wanted to go out to the city and do stuff. You know, last summer, because Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, they had to take me to the zoo. I spoke to a boa constrictor there and some stuff happened, and I . . . well, I already told Professor Snape this . . . I somehow made the glass disappear and the snake escaped. It told me its family was from South America. I wonder if it found a way back there. . . ."

"Had you ever spoken to a snake before?"

"No. I saw a few in the backyard when I was doing some weeding, but I hadn't known I could speak to them at the time," he answered as they came to a stop and Dumbledore held out the sock for him to take hold of.

"This is going to be a little rougher than a normal portkey landing, so come closer to me," the Headmaster advised. Harry did so. "Alright. One-two-three. . . ."

Harry felt his center yank to the right and he couldn't help but smash against Dumbledore's side as they landed.

"Easy there, Harry. Take a few slow deep breaths, now," he said, preventing Harry from stumbling over and collapsing.

Harry nodded woozily. Portkeys sucked, he decided.

"Do they . . . do they ever get better?" Harry managed in between breaths.

:Goodness, I hope so: Coral wheezed. :That was bloody awful:

"Slightly, though really one just gains a stronger stomach and better balance."

"Good to know," Harry said with a heavy swallow, praying he wouldn't empty his stomach right there.

Finally, after a few more breaths, Harry straightened, recovered.

"Thanks," Harry said, embarrassed, realizing he had relied upon Dumbledore's right arm all that time he was trying not to throw up.

"You've handled the travel quite well. Most people fare much worse after their first long-distance portkey."

"How did you do?" Harry asked before he could think to stop himself.

"Me? Well, my stomach wasn't very happy with me at all. Didn't feel stable enough to eat for the rest of the day," he answered simply before turning his focus to the area around them.

Harry followed his lead, taking in the room they had landed in.

"Well, Harry, welcome to the present headquarters of the ICW in Vaduz, Liechtenstein," Dumbledore welcomed.

Evidently, they had landed in a room specifically made for portkey arrivals. It reminded Harry of Mrs. Longbottom's entryway. It had a rather crisp feeling - very pristine and museum-like.

"Stay close to me at all times. It will not take long for people to recognize you on our way to the meeting chamber."

"What should I expect, sir?" Harry asked, suddenly wanting to kick himself.

He should have been asking questions like that on their way from the Longbottoms, not talking about Mrs. Figg and her crazy cats.

"The ICW is a bit more direct than the Ministry in the way they do things. It helps in some ways, enabling them to get things done faster at times, but sometimes being direct comes across too aggressive and upsets people on certain issues. Do not be alarmed when people raise their voices today, because they likely will. If someone directs a question at you, be diplomatic, but remember, they invited you here and you didn't have to come. Don't answer questions you don't feel you should or ones you don't feel comfortable answering. If there is trouble, I will handle it."

Harry raised his eyebrows at that, hearing the Headmaster lower his tone at the end. He was obviously quite serious in handling whatever trouble that might arise.

"So, am I just going to be introduced and then I'll heal those they've brought?" Harry asked, part of him wondering when they were supposed to head to the meeting but deciding Dumbledore knew when they should be there.

"Yes, though some nations will likely insist on asking you some questions concerning your method."

"Okay," Harry said, not seeing any problem with that. He had nothing to hide.

"Alright. Ready?" Dumbledore asked after a moment.

"Yes, sir."