It didn't take much longer until the feast ended. Dumbledore stood up and gave a short speech, telling all students not to come to the end of the third-floor corridor, for the peril of death. Harry still wondered why he even mentioned it. Wouldn't it have been much simpler to physically close that section, preventing students from reaching that place even by mistake? It would have been much safer too, especially since many might see this as a challenge – certainly not what the headmaster implied.
Without even attending his first lesson at Hogwarts, his impression was plummeting.
He had no time to wonder since Tippy appeared near him as soon as the headmaster finished talking. "Tippy will lead you to the headmaster's office."
Harry smiled reassuringly at Hermione, who joined the other first-year students, while he followed Tippy out of the great hall. They soon arrived at a gargoyle, positioned near one of the minor towers. "Licorice Wands," Tippy said, and the gargoyle jumped aside, revealing an opening. They walked in and the opening closed behind them.
Harry saw a weird set of stairs. It somewhat resembled escalators, the kind he had seen at department stores and underground stations, but it was spiralling, not straight. As soon as they mounted the first stair, it started rotating and lifting them, until they reached the upper floor. At the landing, Harry saw an ornate door that was now open.
"Just call Tippy when you're ready," the house elf said and vanished.
Harry knocked on the open door.
"Come in, please, and close the door behind you," he heard.
Dumbledore was waiting for him in his office. Although smiling, Harry could sense that the old man wasn't pleased at all.
While walking in, Harry tried to see all there was to see there. The room was much larger than an office needed to be. There were many bookshelves and cupboards along the wall, and a multitude of portraits hung on the walls around the room. The headmaster was sitting on a large chair, almost like a throne, behind a very large desk, with many parchments scattered on it, although the centre was clear. There was a large bowl with candies in the middle of the desk, a bit closer to his side.
The headmaster motioned him to sit down on one of the guest chairs. They were much smaller than the one he was sitting on, but once Harry sat down, he found it quite comfortable.
"Lemon Drops?" The headmaster offered, pointing at the bowl.
"No, thanks. I've had quite enough sweets at the feast," Harry said. He didn't intend to touch any offered food or drinks until he could fully trust whoever offered them.
Dumbledore leaned back and looked at Harry with a slightly disapproving expression. Harry waited patiently for the old man to talk while refraining from looking into his eyes. He already knew that would make it much easier for somebody to use Legilimency on him and he didn't plan on making it easy, despite having confidence in his protections.
"You gave us quite a fright, you know," Dumbledore stated.
Harry tried to look bewildered. "Why? I was perfectly safe and well. And whom do you mean by 'us'?"
Dumbledore looked at Harry, who evaded looking into his eyes and then sighed. "Well, I expected Hagrid to bring you back home. We were both worried when we found out that you hadn't arrived there."
Harry shrugged. "I have no home. That house is my relatives' home, not mine, and now it's official. When I called them from London, shortly after Hagrid left me at the train station, my uncle forbade me from ever returning, not that I intended to. What does it matter to you, though? Both I and my relatives are better off that way."
Dumbledore was not ready for this kind of conversation; not for a few more years, at least. "Well, I'm the magical guardian of all muggle-born or muggle-raised students. As such, I'm also your guardian and…"
"And you showed very little interest in me until now. You may just leave it that way – it's far better for me now." Harry sounded polite but firm, much firmer than his age.
That was certainly not the direction Dumbledore wanted the conversation to go. He tried a somewhat different direction. "But where will you stay during vacations?"
With thousands of hotels in London alone, Harry felt quite safe to answer. "I'll stay at a hotel, just like I did after my birthday."
"I thought you needed to be an adult to rent a hotel room," the old man frowned. Had the Muggles changed their laws about that? He didn't think so. As far as he heard, their laws only became stricter.
Harry stayed nonchalant. "That didn't prove to be a problem. They only really care about getting paid and not being found breaking the regulations. Besides, I found out that I own a few places. One of them could be useful until I make my real home."
Harry wasn't sure if it was wise to say that, but then – it wasn't really a secret, so he risked nothing by telling. Observing the old man's reaction, Harry was quite sure he already knew.
"Yes, that's a real possibility, and may prove quite beneficial." Dumbledore glanced at the clock on the wall. He didn't feel like he could get any useful information from the child at this time, not even using Legilimency. "Well, I suggest you return to your dorms, as it's soon curfew time. We may continue this conversation on another occasion. Good night."
"Goodnight, headmaster," Harry replied politely and left the room.
With the door closed, he called Tippy. The house elf materialized a moment later. It then led him on quite a long walk to the Gryffindor common room, where Hermione was waiting.
"What did he want?" she asked as soon as Harry arrived.
Harry had already told her the basics while walking. Now he elaborated a bit. "He said he was worried about me not returning to my relatives' house, which he thought was my home. I told him it was not my home and that I was forbidden from coming back there. He said he cared, being my magical guardian. I told him that the way he didn't mind me before was just fine with me and he should keep not minding me."
Hermione frowned. "That's not considered the right way to talk to the headmaster!"
Harry shrugged. "But that's the truth. He didn't mind when my relatives were treating me badly; he didn't mind that they told me nothing about my parents and about the world they lived in. I didn't even know I was a wizard until Hagrid came for me. Now, after being rid of my relatives, I don't need him to bother me. I'm doing just fine without him."
She was still frowning. "He may deserve your attitude, but it would be better not to seem so hostile. It might be safer for the long run, I believe."
Harry sighed, barely holding a yawn. "I think we've had a long day. We're both tired and should go to bed now. We may think of that in the morning."
She smiled. "Fine, go to bed. Make sure to close the curtains. I'll fade to your bed as soon as I'm ready."
Harry did as requested. He even made sure to brush his teeth well, as Hermione had taught him.
Ten minutes later, after casting silencing charms on the bed and the curtains, the two children hugged each other and fell promptly asleep in Harry's bed.
–..–
In the headmaster's office, Albus Dumbledore was contemplating his meeting with Harry Potter. Had he been too stern? Had he been too forgiving? What could he have done differently to make the Potter boy more agreeable to his plans?
He thought about the Legilimency he'd refrained from using. Was there anything he could find that way that he hadn't found yet? It didn't seem to be the case. The boy told him practically all he wanted. Well, the boy didn't go into details, but they were not really important. Did he really mind which hotel the boy stayed at during August or the exact arrangement that allowed the boy to stay there? He didn't think so. Should he have asked how the boy passed his time there? He didn't really care, to be honest. All he cared about was that the boy stayed safe and healthy, and that was quite evident.
Still, he needed the boy to look up to him as his leader, and that didn't seem to be the case. He would have to watch the boy and use indirect means to exert influence on him. He felt lucky to have the Weasley boy in the same house, the same dorm. Hopefully, with some subtle manipulations, all will go in the right direction.
He finally decided to stop thinking about how to regain Potter's respect and resume his official responsibility. He scanned the list of first-year students. There were no big surprises there. Weasley was a Gryffindor, as expected, and so was Potter. Malfoy went to Slytherin, and so did Greengrass – no surprise there either, although he thought the girl could easily make a Ravenclaw, like her mother. Well, maybe she was more ambitious. Bones went to Hufflepuff, naturally. He wondered where that Granger girl went. It was Minerva who had introduced her to the magical world and helped her with her first-year shopping, early during the summer. She had been deeply impressed by the clever girl. "Certainly Ravenclaw stuff," she had told him then. He found her in Gryffindor. 'Minerva is probably delighted by this,' he mused.
Thinking of it, he was quite delighted that Harry Potter was a Gryffindor, along with Ron Weasley, not that their sorting was a surprise. It was still nice to know that he had somebody to keep an eye on Potter, just in case. He only hoped that the Weasley boy was as smart as his older brothers. He then wondered if this Granger girl would also become Potter's friend. The poor boy didn't have any friends while growing up with his relatives. It would be good for him to gain some friends, but not too many. That might interfere with the plans he'd made for the boy. He hoped it would all go according to his plans.
Despite his vast knowledge and his immense capabilities, his age was already affecting him. He could no longer adjust to change as easily as he had once used to. He couldn't know that this girl would cause some major changes, ones that could possibly turn his plans around.
Still, there was some new information to take into account.
Potter no longer lived with the Dursleys. That meant that there was no blood protection for him any longer. It also meant that he was no longer berated and abused, that he no longer needed a grandfatherly figure to reassure him.
Potter didn't trust him. Well, he wouldn't have trusted himself had he been in Potter's shoes, yet this didn't fit the plan. Was there any way he could regain Potter's trust? He doubted it.
Well, that was too much to think about at this late hour. Albus sighed and left the office, on his way to his private quarters. He would think some more of it, but only after he got a good night's sleep.
–..–
Back in the Gryffindor first-year boy's dorm, the two children were sleeping soundly, tightly hugging in their sleep. With the curtains closed and magically secured and with privacy and silencing charms protecting them, nobody could see the slight golden fog that engulfed them, lightly pulsating with their heartbeats while strengthening and deepening the bond that would make all the plans others had for them completely irrelevant.