The Anger.

With a long last look, Dumbledore looked away and down to the chair before his desk. With a swish of his wand he reconfigured it into a wide low couch and bade them to sit.

"Now, Mister Potter, the reason I wanted to speak with you so urgently is because I was worried about you," he said with his concerned grandfatherly visage firmly in place. "You informed me you were going to spend Christmas with your Aunt Petunia and I was disappointed..."

"Sorry, Headmaster," interrupted Harry. "But, I did no such thing."

Almost glaring at him, Dumbledore said, "I distinctly remember a conversation I had with you before the holidays where you told me you were going to do precisely that."

"No, Headmaster," said Harry. "I informed you I would be spending the holidays with my family. And I did - precisely - that. I do not consider my aunt Petunia, or her brood, as family."

The Headmaster was doing a poor job of not showing his anger. "It is important you spend time in the home of your aunt, Mister Potter," he said. "The blood wards there need recharging; and that can only happen with your presence within the house."

"Why?" asked Harry in not a little anger, himself.

"The wards are based on the blood that courses through your and your aunt's veins, Mister Potter," explained Dumbledore in anger. "As long as you call your aunt's home your own the protections afforded you by those wards are the strongest they can be."

Harry scoffed and said, "Privett Drive was never my home, Headmaster..."

Suddenly, one of Dumbledore's little wheezing trinkets suddenly gave a cough, trembled slightly and then sparked with a flash and expulsion of black smoke. "What on earth was that?" exclaimed Harry.

"That, as you put it," said Dumbledore in an angry but disappointed voice, "was the blood wards on Privett Drive collapsing."

"You had a monitor in place?" asked Daphne in shock. "Who gave you permission to do that?"

"I set the wards in place, Miss Greengrass," he replied. "Of course I would have monitors to ensure they were working correctly."

"So, you warded a muggle house," said Daphne. "With wards based on blood. Any other illegal acts you want to admit to while we're sitting here?"

Dumbledore didn't respond.

"So, you placed up these super wards," she continued. "How did you power them? I would not have thought there'd be a suitable ley line in reach you could tap into."

Dumbledore looked away, quite abashed.

"You didn't!" exclaimed Daphne. "Please, tell me you didn't power them off a muggle?"

"I am not required to answer your questions, Miss Greengrass. You forget where you are," said the Headmaster.

"However, as the warding actually relates only to people, there is sufficient magical energy in the area to power them," said Dumbledore.

"Then why is my presence required?" asked Harry.

"Because you provide, or did provide, the magical presence required to anchor it in place," he replied. "You gave magic the intent. And the intent required you to call Privett Drive your home."

"Well," said Harry, quite angrily. "You realise, of course, that if you had been more forthcoming with this information, then it is probable this little issue would not have arisen at all.

"Mind you, since the muggle legal authorities have deemed fit that aunt Petunia and I are not to come anywhere near each other in future, the wards would have fallen sooner or later, anyway."

"I - pardon?" stuttered Dumbledore.

"The muggle authorities have made it a condition of aunt Petunia's punishment that she, nor my cousin Dudley, is to come within one hundred feet of me. So, there's no legal way I could have returned to Privett Drive without forcing Petunia and Dudley out of the house in the process.

"And, since I cannot legally force her out of her home - it is recognised as her sanctuary - then it is I who is legally required not to be within one hundred feet of 4 Privett Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.

"So you see, Albus," said Harry, leaning forward and staring back at the old man. "I am not allowed, by legal fiat, to return to Privett Drive until such time as my aunt and her family vacate the property for another. Even if I wanted to call Privett Drive my home, I can no longer do that."

The old man sighed and sat back. "I - did not know that," he quietly said.

"That's because it's none of your business!" snapped Harry, quite angry. "You are the headmaster of this school. What happens beyond its wards regarding any of your students is none of your concern. Stay out of my business!"

Sitting in silence for a while, the old man finally spoke up and said, "There are other matters I wish to speak with you about, Harry; but considering the mood at the moment it would be best if we spoke about it at another time. Now, I do believe we are missing the feast and I find myself rather looking forward to a delicious slice of custard tart for desserts. You may go."

Not a little frustrated with the old man, Harry rose, assisted Daphne in rising, and escorted her from the office.

Once outside, Harry growled out, "Stupid, meddling, old fool!"

On the first Wednesday evening after they'd returned to the castle, Harry and the others were approached in the Great Hall by Draco Malfoy and his two bully boys. The day had been a good one, Harry felt, as Dumbledore had finally managed to find them a DADA teacher. That meant he would have even less interactions with the Headmaster.

The DADA Professor was a man newly retired from the auror corps who was looking for a few extra galleons to take with him into retirement. The man, Professor Bolstein, was a veteran of the 1970's war, when he was a senior auror within a ready reaction force.

The Professor was stern and curt with the students, but scrupulously fair. And, when he taught spells, he also gave examples where such were used or could be used. Harry loved his teaching style.

However, he also said he would only be there until the end of the year; when he was looking forward to retiring to a warm beach, somewhere, and putting cold and dreary Britain far behind himself.

"Potter," sneered Malfoy.

"Ah!" said Harry. "Mister Malfoy. If you've come to ask for a boon or such I'm afraid you'll be sorely disappointed."

"I want nothing from you, Potter," he sneered, but clearly angered by Harry's remark. "I've come to challenge you to a wizard's duel."

"Really?" asked Harry, displaying amusement. "Then you're a lot braver than I thought. Either that, or you're inherently stupid."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Do you enjoy reading? Visit my Ko-fi! There you will find the advanced chapter in PDF format, ready for your convenience.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

https://ko-fi.com/fictiontopia