"What does it mean, Albus?" Harry whispered. Trembling fingers reached for the reddened scar but he dared not touch it.

"I don't know, Harry. That is, I don't know that I am prepared to say."

Adrenalin shot through Harry's system and he whipped around to stare at the Headmaster. A wave of anger engulfed him. The room shook a little with it. "Oh no you don't. I spent the better part of my school career in the dark because you wouldn't tell me what I needed to know about Voldemort. So if you know anything, you are going to tell me now."

Dumbledore wasn't the least flustered, but he did eye the room and the books trembling on the edge of their shelves. "Very well, Harry. Do you recall last year during the Unfixables incident when I was gone from Hogwarts?"

"Yes. We were bloody frustrated with you that you weren't here to help."

Dumbledore chuckled gravely and drew his robes around him. He walked slowly toward a large brass model of the solar system and idly spun the rings of Saturn. "I'm afraid I won't be here forever."

That made Harry's heart drop to his belly. He approached Dumbledore and placed a hand on his arm. He remembered all too well how he felt when he thought Snape had killed the Headmaster. That had been a horrible time. "You're all right, aren't you?"

"Oh Harry." He patted Harry's hand. "Yes, of course. I merely meant that I cannot last forever. I am already one hundred and fifty-nine years old. That's old even for a wizard. No, Harry. I merely meant that because I won't be here forever the baton needs to be passed on to the next generation."

"The baton…of what?"

Albus smiled. "Harry, I know that at one time you had a desire to be an Auror. I'm sure you are aware that their principle vocation is to catch Dark Wizards. But someone needs to tell them when there are Dark Wizards to be found. Someone with foresight, experience, and almost as much cunning as a Dark Wizard himself." He smiled again and patted Harry's shoulder. He kicked his long robes aside and strode back to his desk. "I, for one, could use some tea." Sitting in his chair he waved his hand and conjured a tea set. He grasped the handle of the teapot and poured the dark liquid into a china cup sitting on its saucer. "Tea, Harry? Sugar? Milk? Lemon?"

"Sugar. Two lumps. And milk, please. But Albus-"

"Patience, Harry." Harry frowned. It reminded him of something Draco would say. Albus took his time pouring the tea for both of them. He offered Harry a plate of scones already slathered with raspberry jam but Harry waved them off. It was infuriating how the man could stall!

"Now then," said Dumbledore, sitting back with his saucer. He lifted the cup with his free hand, blew on the steamy drink, and took a small sip. "I was speaking of Aurors. Someone…or many someones, spend a good deal of time scouting the world for Dark Witches or Wizards. For the most part, that task has been handed…to me."

Harry suspected as much. No one seemed to know as much about Dark Wizards as Dumbledore did.

"But as I said, Harry. I am feeling my age. And it may not be too much longer that I won't be able to continue. It takes special skills, you see, that is why there are so few of us. But I believe I have found my replacement."

Harry began to sweat. He really didn't like the way this conversation was going.

"It seems that you, Harry-"

Harry jumped to his feet. The cup rattled on the saucer as he slipped it from his trembling hands and slapped it on the desk. "Oh no! No, I won't! I've had my Dark Wizard. I'm done with that. I chose not to become an Auror, remember?"

"This has nothing to do with being an Auror, Harry."

"I won't do it! I've had enough of it. Enough nightmares to last me two lifetimes."

"Of that I have no doubt. Yet, it isn't always a matter of choice. Some things simply are."

"Not this time!" He gathered himself and stomped toward the door but as soon as he touched the door ring, he remembered why he had come. And the fact that his curse scar had reappeared still begged explanation. He clenched his teeth and spun again. "Can you please tell me in plain English without going off on any more tangents why this damned scar is back and hurting?"

Albus wasn't smiling now. "Yes, Harry. I will. Your scar is back because it is a cursed scar. True, the one who made it is indeed dead, if that is your worry. Voldemort is not coming back." Harry felt his muscles unwind for a moment but not completely relax. "However, because Voldemort was a very powerful Dark Wizard and because part of his magic-his Dark magic as well, Harry-is within you, you seem to have the ability of sensing Dark Wizards no matter who or where they may be."

Harry slumped back against the wall. No. He thought he was done with this. Forever. Why can't anything be simple? Why wasn't he allowed just a peaceful, trouble-free life? Wasn't it owed him?

"So you mean I'm some sort of Dark Wizard barometer now?"

"Actually, I thought you always were, but now I rather think it is confirmed."

"What am I supposed to do about it?"

"Do? Well, nothing, if you wish. If you feel so strongly that you have given all you can to the Wizarding World I do not think you will find anyone who would disagree with that assessment. Indeed, I am of that opinion myself. So you are free to do nothing…but endure the occasional twinge from your renewed scar."

Harry dug his fingers into the stone wall behind him. Could it be as simple as that? Wasn't teaching defense against the Dark Arts enough?

But nothing was ever simple. And this was certainly one of those things. How could Harry go about his daily life and suddenly feel that horrible twinge and do nothing about it, knowing that there was a Dark Wizard out there doing all manner of evil? If he could stop it, didn't he have the responsibility to do so?

Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit!

He dropped his face in his hands and slid down the wall. He breathed for a few moments into his fingers and then lowered his hands. "I've got no choice, have I?"

"There is always a choice. But you are a person of conscience, Harry. You cannot see the suffering of your fellow man and stand idly by. Another man could, perhaps, but not you. And to have the abilities you have…Well. I believe there are balancing forces in the universe. For every evil that arises there must be good to stamp it out. I slew Grindelwald and assisted with Voldemort. But before Grindelwald there were others and before they had a chance to rise, I stopped them."

Harry shivered. He'd never heard of these. He supposed if he ever read Hogwarts: A History as Hermione was always admonishing him to do, he'd know these things. "So are you saying that I've got to travel the world putting a stop to evil like some superhero?" His voice sounded weary even to his own ears.

"No. I never said you had to do it yourself. Only that you could recognize evil was present. I daresay, you were probably right about Malcolm Treeloft. How fortunate we were that it required a simple solution."

Harry thought of his soon-to-be seventh year student, the Slytherin Malcolm Treeloft. When Harry first met him, his fellow classmates were certain that Treeloft was headed toward the Dark side. But Malcolm's problem turned out to be his own fear and uncertainty of his homosexuality. When he came out to Harry and gained a boyfriend in the even-tempered Hufflepuff Rupert Fenwick, Malcolm ceased to be a threat. Harry knew it in his bones. And perhaps that was part of this new "gift" of his.

"So, I am rather like a barometer. I just point them out to the Aurors and let them take care of them?"

"Certainly that is a large part of it. Though there may be a time when it requires a very powerful wizard. The most powerful."

"What about Draco? If he's got my magic and Voldemort's why doesn't he have this ability?"

"It may be he does but does not recognize it. But I rather think he doesn't. Great evil and great good counterbalance, Harry. It keeps the universe humming. One of each."

"So…one good wizard-"

"Powerful wizard, Harry. You."

"Okay. I guess I can deal with that. As long as I don't have to take off and duel all the time. Dumb luck has carried me through more scrapes than cleverness. I think we can all agree that that is not my forte."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I think you have more cleverness than you give yourself credit for."

Harry stared at Dumbledore from his place on the floor. "Albus, should I continue to train with you? Like we did before Draco and I married. To control the Dark magic in me?"

Dumbledore thought for a moment and then slowly nodded. "I think that would be most wise."

* * *

Before Harry returned to Malfoy Manor he disillusioned his scar. He didn't want to worry Draco, and more importantly, he didn't want to have to explain something he didn't much want to think about. He crept into the bedroom but Draco was already sitting up in bed, tea balanced on one knee, the Daily Prophet in his hand. Without looking up he waved the small bit of parchment in the other. "What the hell's the meaning of this?"

Harry ducked his head sheepishly. That was the note he'd left for Draco. "What do you mean?"

Draco flicked it to straighten it and read: "Draco, went to Hogwarts. Be back soon." He lifted his brows enquiringly.

"It also says, 'Love, Harry.'" Harry grinned weakly.

Draco sneered. "What's up, Potter? You're sneaking around."

"I'm not sneaking-"

"You're talking to a Slytherin, here. I know 'sneaking' when I see it."

"I just had to ask Albus something. It's a Dark Arts question." There. That wasn't entirely a lie.

"And you couldn't Firecall him?"

"His floo was closed." Okay, that one was a blatant lie. He sat on the bed. Perhaps distraction might work. Sex.

Except that when he sat, he upset Draco's tea cup and hot tea spilled all over the blankets. Draco shot out of bed, narrowly missing getting scalded. Good enough distraction, Harry guessed, since Draco was starkers.

"Sorry," said Harry, scrambling to Scourgify the sheets.

"You could have burned something important there, Potter! Be a little more careful, will you!"

"Shall I…examine you to make sure you're okay?" He smiled seductively. It took a moment for Draco to smile back.

"Well…yes. I rather think you should." He stood with fists at his hips and waited for Harry to come round the other side of the bed.

* * *

One hour later, Harry trudged back into the bathroom and quietly locked the door. He took off the disillusionment charm on his forehead and stared at it in the mirror. No doubt about it; that damned scar was back! He put the disillusionment charm on it again and turned on the tap in the bath before he stripped off his dressing gown.

After bathing he emerged from the steamy bathroom and Draco was lounging in the bed, hair ruffled, sated smile on his face. Harry couldn't resist and he slid across the bed and took Draco in his arms for another kiss.

"Harry," said Draco, dragging a finger down Harry's cheek.

"Mmmm?" Harry nuzzled his lover's neck.

"One thing, love… Why were you sneaking around?"

Harry jerked back. Damn!

"It was a very nice distraction but you're forgetting the Slytherin thing."

"If you knew what I was trying to do why didn't you stop me?"

"What? And miss out on the sex?"

Harry sunk down to the mattress. "Okay. I don't like lying to you, anyway."

"Such a Gryffindor," he heard under Draco's breath.

He grabbed his wand from his dressing gown pocket and took away the disillusionment charm. Then he pushed back his fringe of hair.

Draco gasped. "What the hell-?"

"It's back."

Draco snapped up, stiff and white. "Not Voldemort!"

"No, no. Just the curse scar. And I guess it's not going away." With a long sigh, he explained about how it hurt at the hospital and all that Dumbledore had said.

"He's a madman!" Draco exclaimed when Harry had finished talking. "He expects you to be this savior forever? I won't have it!"

"I don't really know that there's a choice in the matter," he said, rubbing his forehead. Just a plain old headache, this time.

"Yes you do. You just say 'NO!'"

"I can't really do that."

"Yes you can!" He grabbed Harry's arms and hauled him to his feet. He shook him in emphasis. "I don't want you chasing after Dark Wizards. We haven't gone through all we went through for me to lose you now."

Harry frowned. "What makes you think I'd lose? I'm supposed to be the most powerful wizard on the planet."

"You'll…bollox it up somehow. You'll do something stupid-"

"What? Wait a minute." He pushed Draco off of him. "You don't have any confidence in me!"

"Yes I do. But I know how evil minds work. Sometimes there isn't any good left in these lunatics."

"And if I thought that about you where would we be now?"

"That's different. You didn't fancy the other Death Eaters, now did you? And I can assure you, they didn't fancy you. They wanted your blood and they would have done anything to anyone to get it. No sentimentality. No mercy. You don't know."

"I faced sodding Voldemort SIX TIMES. Don't tell me I don't know about no sentimentality and no mercy. He was all that incarnate. I KNOW!"

"So you're going to. You're going to run off at the merest mention of some spooky wizard somewhere and get yourself killed."

"I'm not going to get myself killed. And I'm not going to run off. I am very happy being a teacher but I've got other responsibilities."

"Oh yeah. All-powerful wizard. If you think I'm going to wait at home for you to come back from slaying this week's wizard-in-the-news, you've got another thing coming."

"Wait. Are you saying you'd leave me?"

"I won't do it, Harry. I won't stay home waiting. It…it would hurt too much. Wondering."

Harry stared at his husband. Draco's face was red, his eyes glossy with frustration. He was scared, Harry knew that. So was Harry. "Then you'll have to come with me."

That stopped Draco. "Come with you? What do you mean come with you?"

"Come with me. We'll go together. If you don't want to wait about at home like a worrying wife then come with me. You're a powerful wizard too, you know."

Malfoy might have gone paler. It was hard to know. "I don't want to go," he said in a small voice.

Slytherin indeed, thought Harry. "Well someone's got to. I can't just go on day after day feeling this pain in my scar knowing it's evil and doing nothing about it. How could I live with myself?"

"Damn, sodding Gryffindor! Why couldn't you have let the Hat put you in Slytherin! You wouldn't have to worry about having a bloody conscience."

"Oh really? Is that why you ingratiated yourself to the parents on that disastrous Parent's Day? Or fought beside me against Minx Mercer and his gang? Or agree with Fleur when she gives you the evil eye? Or-"

"All right! All right! I get your point." He scowled, very deeply this time, his arms firmly clasped over his chest. He didn't speak for a long time, but when he did, his voice was very soft. "But I'd trade the whole world-even the lives of little children-to keep you safe."

"That's a very…um…Slytherin sentiment, but what about Annie Weasley? She's one of those little children now, you know."

"Oh damn you, Harry!" This time tears glistened in the corners of his eyes. He swatted at them. "All right. If you go, I go. But I'm doing a lot of ducking."

For the first time during this discussion, Harry cracked a smile. "Well, anyway. Dumbledore said there won't be much in the way of fighting myself, just finding them."

"Oh, right. And Dumbledore has never understated anything."

Harry turned from Draco and went to the wardrobe. Yes, he thought of that, too. He'd wager that Dumbledore did a lot more fighting than he was letting on yet he still managed to be Headmaster and complete all his duties. Harry supposed he could teach Defense, scope out evil wizards, and still return to Hogwarts in time for pudding. Sure. Easy.

* * *

The end of summer was fast approaching and Harry and Draco were packing again, readying themselves to return to Hogwarts for their third term as teachers. Three years already, Harry speculated. He was really enjoying it. The students, the lessons. He dug deep into his wardrobe to grab extra socks when he encountered a small wooden flute. He pulled it out, examined the crudely carved object, and smiled. Placing it at his lips he gave it a little air and it released the soft hooting sound of an owl.

"What in blazes is that?" asked Draco, waving his wand over his immense collection of clothes and shrinking it down for transport.

Harry showed it to Draco. "One of the first real Christmas presents I ever received. Hagrid made it for me my first year at Hogwarts."

"That was a real present? That's really pathetic, Potter."

"Well it was a real present. Compared to the dirty socks I used to get from the Durlseys or the just plain nothing they would give. And it was really nice of him to take the time to make it for me, considering I didn't really know him and I didn't expect to get any presents at all."

Draco's brows frowned over his eyes. "Oh. Thought you were kidding."

"I suppose you were showered with gifts at Christmas."

"Of course. A Malfoy Christmas was too amazing by half. It took me a full hour at least to open all of mine."

Harry clutched the little flute, feeling its rough surface under his palm. "Ever have a favorite gift?"

Draco frowned some more and then brought up a sheepish face. "The broom you gave me our first year together," he said softly.

He laughed. "You mean out of all those thousands of presents, not one of them springs to mind?"

He shook his head guiltily. "Only yours."

Harry leaned over and gave Draco a kiss. "I see. I love you, too." He tucked the flute away and finished packing.

Harry's mind was full of lesson plans and how much fun he was going to make it for his students this year. It was the last year for the group of his favorite students. They had been fifth years when he and Draco started. Fifth years when Hogwarts opened its doors again after the war, two years A.V. And now they would be leaving. Serenity Hudson of Ravenclaw, Felicia Rosencrantz of Gryffindor, Malcolm Treeloft of Slytherin, and Rupert Fenwick of Hufflepuff. They were quite a team. He owed them a lot. He realized it was they who organized the second dance where all the students had paired up with the same sex in support of him and Draco when they had gotten in trouble for dancing at that now infamous Yule Ball. This group of students had even come to their wedding. He'd miss them and he wanted their last year to be memorable. Not that the other years hadn't been, what with all the insanity that was usually Hogwarts and the trouble he and Draco always managed to get into. Not this year, he promised himself. No trouble. No Ministry interfering, no stray Death Eaters, no Unfixables. No Dark Wizards haunting his dreams. This year everything was going to be perfect!

"Well I'm packed," said Draco, lording over his many trunks and miniaturized wardrobe. "You ready?"

Harry looked over at the stacks in front of Draco, widened his eyes but wisely said nothing, and nodded. "Yep. Just a few books and I'll be ready. Why don't you floo ahead with your stuff and I'll catch up. You can air out our rooms."

"Okay, Harry love. See you there." He leaned over and gave Harry a quick kiss before he raised his wand and levitated his luggage toward the fireplace.

Harry found the books he wanted in the library, listening distantly to the sound of the flames whooshing in the fireplace as Draco flooed his things to Hogwarts from their upstairs bedroom. He tucked the books under his arm. Yep. This year was going to be different. This year there was going to be no trouble. Because this was a new year at Hogwarts and there was always the sense of hope dawning when a new term began.

Harry ignored the niggling apprehension at the back of his mind, ignored the wisp of caution whispered on the wind, ignored his own instincts that clawed for attention. He rubbed the new scar hiding under its disillusionment charm.

No! he told the voices. "No problems this year!"

The mirror over the mantle tutted at him. "My, my," it said in a voice too reminiscent of Lucius Malfoy. "Sounds a bit like someone's jinxing himself."


On to Chapter Three
"Hogwarts At Last"

Back to Chapter One
"Celebration"

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