The Family Business.
I don't own the Harry Potter verse. Just playing.
Summary: A summer before 6th year Sirius Black's will reading changes everything story with a reverse Reptilia28's challenge twist. A callous manipulative Dumbledore needs Harry to freely say the magic words to generously give his inheritance from Sirius to him for His Greater Good. But his abuse of the Dursleys backfires. Big time. HHrLL NLSBHA, Ronald will be bad because of the injury he suffered at the DoM from the brains.
It is two weeks into the summer before sixth year. Harry's godfather, Sirius Black has tragically died going through the Veil in the Death Chamber in the Department of Mysteries. While on a rescue mission to save his godson. Who had been tricked to go, and save his godfather, leaving Hogwarts with some close friends. The Return of Voldemort had been exposed to the Minister of Magic, and Albus Dumbledore had put on a brilliant display of magic to show Voldemort he still had it. Unfortunately after saying hello to Minister Fudge, Voldemort escaped taking with him favourite death eater lieutenant Bellatrix Lestrange.
For putting a brilliant display of magic, and toying with the dark lord, Dumbledore was welcome back to the Ministry of Magic with open arms after that unfortunate misunderstanding over the Hogwarts' defense club called 'Dumbledore's Army.' But all is forgiven when there is a returned dark lord around. Even the late Sirius Black was pardoned for being innocent of betraying the Potters all those years ago. Dumbledore had finally acted for Sirius to get him free. But it was too little too late, and the only benefit was the Ministry would not seize the fortune of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. All Albus had to do was ask, and Minister Fudge so graciously granted the late Sirius Black his freedom. Dumbledore smiled. Now he had trapped the old dog in a place he could never escape from to interfere with his plans.
Then that evil witch Rita Skeeter, the creative reporter for the Daily Prophet came sniffing around looking for the Ministry Six for a story. Albus Dumbledore does not share the spotlight with anyone, and he did not want her to interfere with the boy's family time alone grieving at Durzkaban. So he gathered up Neville and Luna, and sent them with Hermione to the safety of the Burrow, and the security of Molly Weasley. Augusta and Xeno were furious when they found Neville and Luna missing but it was for His Greater Good. Besides He is the Chief Warlock, and there is a war.
Then two days ago, there was the matter of the reading of Sirius Black's will which surprised everyone. Narcissa Malfoy was there hoping for dear life that Sirius did not have a will. So she could claim the fortune of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. It had cost half of the Malfoy fortune to pay for Lucius release after that unfortunate misunderstanding that there was actually not "a bad taste fancy dress party" at the DoM that night. It took the other half of the fortune to convince the Ministry that her sister Bellatrix and the aforementioned dark lord would not be staying in the throne room of Malfoy Manor. So don't bother to come looking there. Or make an appointment before you do come. Poor Narcissa was terrified when she got nothing, and feared to go home. A classic case of failure to plan is planning to fail.
Albus was surprised that Sirius had updated his will recently. It was a condition when joining his Order of the Phoenix that you bequest your estate to his Greater Good. Everyone had been compelled to do that, the Potters, Longbottoms, McKinnons, Bones, Prewetts, Pettigrew, Dearborn, Weasleys and even Albus himself had graciously arranged to bequeath his estate to his Greater Good. It cost money to run a war.
Albus found out that the old dog had updated his will as the letter invitation to the will reading was for Harry James Potter, and not himself. It was indeed fortunate for Dumbledore, that all of Harry's Gringotts mail was redirected to him. In his infinite wisdom, he knew that Harry would be too distressed, and totally unavailable to go to the reading. So Albus prepared a letter from Harry asking if he would kindly attend in his place as his new self re-appointed magical guardian. It was good that he done so as Sirius had left everything to his godson.
Albus had assumed that being the self re-appointed magical guardian of Harry Potter would have automatically granted him complete access to the Black vaults and the Black Manor at No12 Grimmauld Place. But family magic did not actually obey the will, plans and manipulations of one Albus Dumbledore. He had to get Harry to actually freely say the magic words so that he could have access to the vaults and house. Which is where our story starts with Albus Dumbledore walking down Privet Drive to No4.
Chapter 1. Freedom for Harry.
Friday 12th July 1996 11:00pm.
A man appeared on the corner of Privet Drive just before 11 pm. But there was no cat watching this time. He appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground.
Nothing like this man had been seen on Privet Drive for almost fifteen years. He was tall, thin, and very very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing a pointed hat, long black traveling cloak over a bright purple robes that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots that walked the walk of someone who was very pleased with himself. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.
Albus Dumbledore knew that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was totally unwelcome. He had cast a notice-me-not charm on himself so he was confident that no one was watching him, and he did not bother to use his silver cigarette lighter Put-Outer to extinguish street lamps as there was no noisy motorcycle arriving tonight.
No tonight Albus was on a special mission. He had to get his ward one Harry J. Potter to freely say the magic words, and grant him access to Harry's inheritance from his late godfather Sirius Black.
Albus had planned it all out. Good planning was a hallmark of Albus Dumbledore. You can not manipulate the sheep to do what you want for his Greater Good unless you make beautiful plans. Albus thought back to his first plans that he had made with his lover Gellert Grindelwald. They had seen the need for something better. It would be a Greater Good for Wizards to rule muggles as they were unworthy, too greedy and too stupid. But Gellert had lost sight of the plan, and that ended badly. Then he had to go, and save Gellert from being killed by the Russian muggle soldiers, installing his lover in a safe place using the top-most penthouse suite of Nurmengard.
No, there must be good plans that must be followed without question. Albus had plans for the magical world for the next two hundred years into the future, and in one way or another his plans for the past one hundred years had manipulated, and interfered in the lives of every witch, wizard, squib and muggle in Britain.
Dumbledore chuckled to himself as thought back to the manipulations that left him holding the baby, and had brought him here on that very cold November night in 1981. That prophecy Trelawney spoke was brilliant. He quickly realized that he could use it to stop Tom rampaging around, finish off the Potters and Longbottoms, and collect their fortunes. But then the boy lived. He was so annoyed at Lily for what ever she had done to spare the boy's life. That is the beauty of good plans. You make backup plans, and continuity plans. He had already prepared this safe house with the Dursleys just in case either boy lived. He had used the compulsion hex on Vernon so he would move his family to this house in this terrible soul destroying boring neighbourhood of muggliness. Where no Pure-blood witch or wizard would ever be seen dead in. With a simple blood ward keyed to the boy, to power the monitoring and tracking charms, and other wards, and bingo. You have your own private personal gulag. When the boy lived. He claimed that the blood ward was from his mothers sacrifice. But if Neville had survived without family then he would claim that it was his godmother's sacrifice. No one would question the Great Albus Dumbledore.
Then Albus had reviewed the past year. The Ministry had provided that terrible toad of a witch for the DADA class. But she proved useful keeping the boy too busy, distracted and abused. She was way more vicious than Severus. He was annoyed that the toad had taken so long to discover the boy's illegal defense club 'Dumbledore's Army' after all the hints he gave them. All that stupid toad wanted to do was write Educational Decrees, and give the boy detentions. Then when the toad and the minister finally dragged the boy into his office. He was able to take the blame, and claim that it was all his idea. Then make good his escape with Fawkes, traveling in style. Leaving the boy to suffer the rage, anger, and abuse of the toad and Ministry all alone. While he took his summer holidays early, and spent two glorious months relaxing at the beautiful Potter holiday mansion on the French Rivera. That the boy was totally ignorant of. Like the rest of his shrinking inheritance and heritage.
That is the beauty of good plans. He could enjoy his holiday while others continued to follow his plans. Then at the right moment he would return. Making sure that stupid old dog Black died. The very nerve of Severus and Bellatrix to claim that they had killed Black. It was his plans, and manipulations that killed Black.
The tragic death of the boy's dogfather should have shattered, and broken the boy. But no he was still too strong for Tom. Good thing Dumbledore was able to charge in at the end, and save the day before the boy managed to do something amazing again. Just like the boy did to beat up that loser Tom at the graveyard. To actually force a killing curse back into Tom's wand. That is totally unheard of. Nobody has done that before. Not even him. Severus said the other death eaters were shocked, and wondered if they had picked the wrong side.
Dumbledore course was not surprised of the power the boy can call on. He had been trying to plan the boy's death since Tom's first failed attempt in 81. The boy simply won't die. His final plan would be for the boy to think he has to willing sacrifice himself to Tom, and die to save everyone. We will have to see if that works.
Dumbledore was glad he had practiced those spells, charms and enchantments for two months. It was just enough for a brilliant display for the Minister, and far grander than the boy in the graveyard. It would prove to everyone that he is the greatest Wizard. Then to unfortunately let Tom escape with Bellatrix to live to kill another day.
Albus was surprised how tough the boy was, even when he guilt tripped him for endangering Ronald and little Ginevra Weasley who was to be his future wife if Albus had anything to do with it (and yes, he had plans for that). The boy was ashamed but did not break. He actually did not think he was good enough for Ginevra so Albus had to obliviate, and save that information for another time. Then he just dumped that prophecy on the boy with all the weight of the world, and the boy only got a little angry.
Dumbledore knew he will have to plan carefully to manipulate the boy to do what he wants. The first thing was preparation. He had sent that letter asking for the boy's help in a little matter, and then dangles the carrot to distract him with the hope he could be set free of Durzkaban after only two weeks in solitary confinement (hell). Then he would trap the boy at the Weasleys with Molly. Then he will win the boy's sympathy by acting all brave with this blackened and shriveled hand; it really looks as though his flesh had been burned away. Plus Albus could gain extra bonus points from the boy by teasing, and have some fun with that stupid muggle family of the boy. He has come in style by dressing in his full blown Merlin costume. They will hate that he has dressed like a completely recognizable wizard standing on their front door. Shock and awe. That is the plan. Total shock and awe.
Albus had reached No 4 Privet Drive, and felt there was too much light in the street. So he reached into his robe for his silver cigarette lighter Put-Outer to extinguish the street-lamp directly in front of the Dursley's house. It would not do for the neighbours to see anything if things got ugly with Vernon Dursley. Now it was Showtime.
-The Family Business.-
A section from Chapter 3 of Half-blood Prince.
The minute hand on the alarm clock reached the number twelve and, at that precise moment, the street-lamp outside the window went out.
Harry awoke as though the sudden darkness were an alarm. Hastily straightening his glasses and unsticking his cheek from the glass, he pressed his nose against the window instead and squinted down at the pavement. A tall figure in a long, billowing cloak was walking up the garden path.
Harry jumped up as though he had received an electric shock, knocked over his chair, and started snatching anything and everything within reach from the floor and throwing it into the trunk. Then as he lobbed a set of robes, two spellbooks, and a packet of clasps across the room, the doorbell rang. Downstairs in the living room his Uncle Vernon shouted, "Who the blazes is calling at this time of night?"
Harry froze with a brass telescope in one hand and a pair of trainers in the other. He had completely forgotten to warn the Dursleys that Dumbledore might be coming. Feeling both panicky mid close to laughter, he clambered over the trunk and wrenched open his bedroom door in time to hear a deep voice say, "Good evening. You must be Mr. Dursley. I daresay Harry has told you I would be coming for him?"
Harry ran down the stairs two at a time, coming to an abrupt halt several steps from the bottom, as long experience had taught him to remain out of arm's reach of his uncle whenever possible. There in the doorway stood a tall, thin man with waist-length silver hair and beard. Half-moon spectacles were perched on his crooked nose, and he was wearing a long black traveling cloak and a pointed hat. Vernon Dursley, whose mustache was quite as bushy as Dumbledore's, though black, and who was wearing a puce dressing gown, was staring at the visitor as though he could not believe his tiny eyes.
"Judging by your look of stunned disbelief, Harry did not warn you that I was coming," said Dumbledore pleasantly. "However, let us assume that you have invited me warmly into your house. It is unwise to linger overlong on doorsteps in these troubled times."
He stepped smartly over the threshold and closed the front door behind him.
"It is a long time since my last visit," said Dumbledore, peering down his crooked nose at Uncle Vernon. "I must say, your agapanthus are flourishing."
Vernon Dursley said nothing at all. Harry did not doubt that speech would return to him, and soon — the vein pulsing in his uncles temple was reaching danger point — but something about Dumbledore seemed to have robbed him temporarily of breath. It might have been the blatant wizardishness of his appearance, but it might, too, have been that even Uncle Vernon could sense that here was a man whom it would be very difficult to bully.
"Ah, good evening Harry," said Dumbledore, looking up at him through his half-moon glasses with a most satisfied expression. "Excellent, excellent."
These words seemed to rouse Uncle Vernon. It was clear that as far as he was concerned, any man who could look at Harry and say "excellent" was a man with whom he could never see eye to eye.
"I don't mean to be rude —" he began, in a tone that threatened rudeness in every syllable.
"— yet, sadly, accidental rudeness occurs alarmingly often," Dumbledore finished the sentence gravely. "Best to say nothing at all, my dear man. Ah, and this must be Petunia."
The kitchen door had opened, and there stood Harry's aunt, wearing rubber gloves and a housecoat over her nightdress, clearly halfway through her usual pre-bedtime wipe-down of all the kitchen surfaces. Her rather horsey face registered nothing but shock.
"Albus Dumbledore," said Dumbledore, when Uncle Vernon failed to effect an introduction. "We have corresponded, of course." Harry thought this an odd way of reminding Aunt Petunia that he had once sent her an exploding letter, but Aunt Petunia did not challenge the term. "And this must be your son, Dudley?"
Dudley had that moment peered round the living room door, his large, blond head rising out of the stripy collar of his pajamas looked oddly disembodied, his mouth gaping in astonishment and fear. Dumbledore waited a moment or two, apparently to see whether any of the Dursleys were going to say anything, but as the silence stretched on he smiled.
"Shall we assume that you have invited me into your sitting room?"
Dudley scrambled out of the way as Dumbledore passed him. Harry, still clutching the telescope and trainers, jumped the last few stairs and followed Dumbledore, who had settled himself in the armchair nearest the fire and was taking in the surroundings with an expression of benign interest. He looked quite extraordinarily out of place.
"Aren't — aren't we leaving, sir?" Harry asked anxiously.
"Yes, indeed we are, but there are a few matters we need to discuss first," said Dumbledore. "And I would prefer not to do so in the open. We shall trespass upon your aunt and uncle's hospitality only a little longer."
"You will, will you?"
Vernon Dursley had entered the room, Petunia at his shoulder, and Dudley skulking behind them both.
"Yes," said Dumbledore simply, "I shall."
He drew his wand so rapidly that Harry barely saw it; with a casual flick, the sofa zoomed forward and knocked the knees out from under all three of the Dursleys so that they collapsed upon it in a heap. Another flick of the wand and the sofa zoomed back to its original position.
"We may as well be comfortable," said Dumbledore pleasantly.
As he replaced his wand in his pocket, Harry saw that his hand was blackened and shriveled; it looked as though his flesh had been burned away.
"Sir — what happened to your —?"
"Later, Harry," said Dumbledore. "Please sit down."
Harry took the remaining armchair, choosing not to look at the Dursleys, who seemed stunned into silence.
"I would assume that you were going to offer me refreshment," Dumbledore said to Uncle Vernon, "but the evidence so far suggests that that would be optimistic to the point of foolishness."
A third twitch of the wand, and a dusty bottle and five glasses appeared in midair. The bottle tipped and poured a generous measure of honey-colored liquid into each of the glasses, which then floated to each person in the room.
"Madam Rosmertas finest oak-matured mead," said Dumbledore, raising his glass to Harry, who caught hold of his own and sipped. He had never tasted anything like it before, but enjoyed it immensely. The Dursleys, after quick, scared looks at one another, tried to ignore their glasses completely, a difficult feat, as they were nudging them gently on the sides of their heads. Harry could not suppress a suspicion that Dumbledore was rather enjoying himself.
Pages 29-30 Harry Potter and The Half-blood Prince.
-The Family Business.-
'Stupid old goat'. Thought Aunt Petunia as she tried to ignore the glass spilling the sticky drink all over her beautiful clothes, couch and carpet. 'That will take hours to remove. This was the reason why she hated magic. These bigoted bullies would just invite themselves in, and wave their wands around. Treat us like fools knowing they can hurt us far more than we can hurt them. Look at the boy. He is enjoying this. Just wait until Vernon gets him alone.
AAARGH! If the old wanker looks at my Dudleykins like that again I don't know what I will do'.
-The Family Business.-
"Well, Harry," said Dumbledore, turning toward him, "a difficulty has arisen which I hope you will be able to solve for us. By us, I mean the Order of the Phoenix. But first of all I must tell you that Sirius's will was discovered a week ago and that he left you everything he owned."
Over on the sofa, Uncle Vernon's head turned, but Harry did not look at him, nor could he think of anything to say except, "Oh. Right."
"This is, in the main, fairly straightforward," Dumbledore went on. "You add a reasonable amount of gold to your account at Gringotts, and you inherit all of Sirius's personal possessions. The slightly problematic part of the legacy —"
"His godfather's dead?" said Uncle Vernon loudly from the sofa. Dumbledore and Harry both turned to look at him. The glass of mead was now knocking quite insistently on the side of Vernon's head; he attempted to beat it away. "He's dead? His godfather?"
"Yes," said Dumbledore. He did not ask Harry why he had not confided in the Dursleys. "Our problem," he continued to Harry, as if there had been no interruption, "is that Sirius also left you number twelve, Grimmauld Place."
"He's been left a house?" said Uncle Vernon greedily, his small eyes narrowing, but nobody answered him.
"You can keep using it as headquarters," said Harry. "I don't care. You can have it, I don't really want it." Harry never wanted to set foot in number twelve, Grimmauld Place again if he could help it. He thought he would be haunted forever by the memory of Sirius prowling its dark musty rooms alone, imprisoned within the place he had wanted so desperately to leave.
"That is generous," said Dumbledore. "We have, however, vacated the building temporarily."
"Well," said Dumbledore, ignoring the mutterings of Uncle Vernon, who was now being rapped smartly over the head by the persistent glass of mead, "Black family tradition decreed that the house was handed down the direct line, to the next male with the name of 'Black.' Sirius was the very last of the line as his younger brother, Regulus, predeceased him and both were childless. While his will makes it perfectly plain that he wants you to have the house, it is nevertheless possible that some spell or enchantment has been set upon the place to ensure that it cannot be owned by anyone other than a pureblood."
A vivid image of the shrieking, spitting portrait of Sirius's mother that hung in the hall of number twelve, Grimmauld Place flashed into Harry's mind. "I bet there has," he said.
"Quite," said Dumbledore. "And if such an enchantment exists, then the ownership of the house is most likely to pass to the eldest of Sirius's living relatives, which would mean his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange."
Without realizing what he was doing, Harry sprang to his feet; the telescope and trainers in his lap rolled across the floor. Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius's killer, inherit his house?
"No," he said.
"Well, obviously we would prefer that she didn't get it either," said Dumbledore calmly. "The situation is fraught with complications. We do not know whether the enchantments we ourselves have placed upon it, for example, making it Unplottable, will hold now that ownership has passed from Sirius's hands. It might be that Bellatrix will arrive on the doorstep at any moment. Naturally we had to move out until such time as we have clarified the position."
"But how are you going to find out if I'm allowed to own it?"
"Fortunately," said Dumbledore, "there is a simple test."
He placed his empty glass on a small table beside his chair, but before he could do anything else, Uncle Vernon shouted, "Will you get these ruddy things off us?"
Harry looked around; all three of the Dursleys were cowering with their arms over their heads as their glasses bounced up and down on their skulls, their contents flying everywhere.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," said Dumbledore politely, and he raised his wand again. All three glasses vanished. "But it would have been better manners to drink it, you know."
It looked as though Uncle Vernon was bursting with any number of unpleasant retorts, but he merely shrank back into the cushions with Aunt Petunia and Dudley and said nothing, keeping his small piggy eyes on Dumbledore's wand.
Pages 30-32 Harry Potter and The Half-blood Prince.
-The Family Business.-
'Oh, I'm so sorry, the old goat said.' Thought Aunt Petunia. 'The old goat is trying to steal the boy's inheritance. We could have been rid of him and them. After this Vernon will have great pleasure beating the insult into the boy when he returns next summer. Stop looking at my Dudleykins that way, you disgusting creep.'
Dumbledore noticed Dudley was staring at the wand in his hand. He turns to look at Dudley.
Aunt Petunia saw that look, and flew into an instant rage. Forgetting about the wand, and that it is the great Albus Dumbledore. Her Dudleykins was in danger. She grabbed Vernon's favourite marble ashtray sitting on the table next to her, and threw it with all her might at Dumbledore's head.
Dumbledore saw some movement to his left, and turned to face it. Just in time for the heavy marble ashtray to smash into his head, and shatter his nose again. His eyes went wide open in pain, shock and surprise.
Harry knew Uncle Vernon could move quickly when he wanted to, and Aunt Petunia's action had broken the spell. Uncle Vernon jumped up, ran across the room, and started to beat into Dumbledore with his fists. Not caring if the bruises will show. He just wanted to cause the old fool as much pain as possible. Uncle Vernon was surprised how similar old man bones were to little boy bones, and the satisfying crunch they made when they broke. For fifteen years this stupid old goat had interfered in his family, putting them in danger, and causing so much UN-naturalness, and frustration. He just so wanted to hurt the old fool who was responsible. And now the old fool was threatening their Dudleykins. This had to stop! That drove Uncle Vernon on. He was protecting his precious family the only way he knew how. If he stopped the monster will kill them all, and it felt so satisfyingly good to hear the bones break.
Harry was shocked to see Uncle Vernon move to pound on Dumbledore, he could feel every thud. When he heard the bones break, he knew he had to do something to save Dumbledore or he would be stuck here in Durzkaban all summer, and all next year. He needed a wand but his own was carefully stored in his trunk so he could not get into trouble again. Then Harry saw Dumbledore's wand firmly gripped in the hand of the distracted old wizard, and he so desperately wanted that wand. Harry reached out his hand towards the wand as he stood up. The wand ripped itself out of the old wizard's hand, and flew towards its true master's hand along with a gold ring that had a large black stone. The ring flew onto the ring finger of Harry's left hand, while the wand landed in his right. Instantly there was an enormous shower of sparks with a warm feeling and a glow ten times brighter than when his holly and phoenix feather wand had chosen him. And more, the wand spoke to him as the all charms and enchantment that the old manipulative wizard had used the elder wand to cast on Harry were removed, and the bindings on his magic core slowly released.
Then Harry knew what he must do. Silently, Harry waved the wand at Uncle Vernon who was still pounding on the old wizard. His uncle was thrown back into the couch next to Dudley and stuck there.
Aunt Petunia and Dudley wrapped their arms around Uncle Vernon protectively to hold him there as they stared in shock at the first bit a magic the boy has done with a wand. The boy had thrown Uncle Vernon across the room like he was a big fluffy doll.
As soon as Uncle Vernon was stuck to the couch, Harry waved the wand at Dumbledore, and summons two hidden wands, three Portkeys, a shrunken feather weight bag full of gold galleons, the silver cigarette lighter Put-Outer, and a mokeskin pouch. All of which he caught in his seeker left hand. He knew Dumbledore had been hurt by the pounding, but his body seemed to be healing itself except for the left hand. Alarmed, he wave the wand at Dumbledore, silently cast the Body-Bind Curse, binding the body but leaving the head free. He then waved the wand around the room, to clean up and repair the mess Dumbledore had made. His relatives watched in awe to see magic working.
Harry pointed the wand at Uncle Vernon's liquor cabinet which opened itself. Three large glasses rose up, and Uncle Vernon's favourite drink, a Glenfiddich 50 Year Old bottle of whiskey opened, and poured a very generous measure of the single malt whiskey into the glasses. The bottle resealed itself, returned to its place as the three glasses slowly and carefully floated to the hands of his relatives without spilling a drop due to the no spill charm. Aunt Petunia held her glass with both hands as she took a large drink. As did Uncle Vernon but Dudley just passed out. Dudley's glass of whiskey just floated near his hand. Aunt Petunia nodded a shaky thank you to Harry.
They sat quietly to settle their nerves while they waited for the old wizard's body to heal itself, and for Dumbledore to regain consciousness. The wand was starting telling Harry the tragic tale of its part in being used by Dumbledore for his manipulations of Harry's sad painful lonely life. Starting from the now, and working slowly back so Harry knew what he had to do, and most importantly he knew Dumbledore was not to be trusted. Never ever!
After five minutes Dumbledore was healed, and opened his eyes, and looked around the room. Everyone was sitting quietly looking at him. He saw his wand in Harry's hand, and a chill of fear went down his spine as he realized his body was bound.
"Good work Harry my boy. You can give me back my wand now if you please?" Dumbledore carefully asked with his twinkling blue eyes turned up to the max. While hoping against hope that the boy would just surrender the all powerful elder wand to him. He had charmed the wand so it could never be taken from him. If the wand had changed its allegiance to the boy all would be lost.
Harry gave Dumbledore a cold hard look. "I am not your boy anymore, and I as Lord Slytherin, rescind your access and control of all and any of my property and vaults. You will return whatever you have taken with interest." Harry said coldly as a red glow appeared around Dumbledore, and everything he had taken from the boy was returned to Harry's vaults and properties.
"But Harry you are not of age. You need my guiden..."
"Right of Conquest does not bother with age." Harry said to cut off the old fool. "If you are old enough to defeat them. You are old enough for the title. I have been Lord Slytherin and of age since that night. And your obliviations stole that from me. You had no right to dump me here!"
Dumbledore was shocked by the boy's new knowledge. He had put a powerful Confundus Charm on the sorting hat to prevent it from placing the boy into Slytherin. But even then it was only the boy choosing not to go Slytherin that saved his plans.
Then Harry looked at the elder wand in his hand. "And you know the elder wand does not work that way."
That chill of fear went up Dumbledore's spine. If the boy knew about the elder wand it must have spoken to him. This was bad. Very bad indeed!
"Fawkes!" Dumbledore cried out.
A moment later Fawkes flamed into the middle of the room, but the Dursleys were too far gone to be shocked. Hovering mid air Fawkes looked at the terrified Dumbledore, but Harry shook the mokeskin pouch in his left hand. The reaction of Fawkes was immediate. What ever Dumbledore had used to bind Fawkes to him was in that mokeskin pouch in Harry's hand. That meant that Harry was his master now, and he was free of the manipulative old goat. The phoenix blew a loud soppy raspberry at Dumbledore, and sang a song of freedom as it flew cartwheels around the room while making rude gestures with his wings at Dumbledore.
A very happy phoenix landed on Harry's shoulder as Dumbledore started swearing at him and the boy.
Harry waved the wand, and silenced the manipulative old fool. Dumbledore could only watch in the powerless fear of the vanquish, as the wand that had never spoken to him. But now it was sharing all his dirty big secrets with the boy who must die. This was wrong. Very wrong! The only comfort he had was that he had done it all for his Greater Good. Surely the boy will understand that.
Dumbledore wonder how the boy had managed to open his mokeskin pouch with the charms and hexes he had placed on it with his elder wand. 'OH right!' He realized the wand told the boy how. He watched terrified as a small crystal chest containing a piece of quivering blood red flesh flew into the boy's waiting hand. It was Fawkes' still beating heart that Dumbledore had taken to bind the phoenix to his will. The boy opened the chest, remove the beating heart, and touched it to the red phoenix's chest. Fawkes burst into flames to be restored whole. Everyone watched in amazement as out of the ashes in the boy's hands there arose the beautiful pure white Aurora Phoenix that Fawkes truly was. When the master manipulator had bound Fawkes to his will by taking the phoenix's heart. The phoenix colour had changed to blood red which Dumbledore claimed was a royal phoenix but Fawkes had become just a plain red enslaved phoenix. Only Nicolas Flamel knew enough to know the difference, and the master manipulator made sure Nicolas never lived to tell. That is why he had 'borrowed' the Philosopher's Stone all those years ago. The Flamels had long since gone on their next great adventure.
All of the master manipulator's plans just went up in flames.
The young white Aurora Phoenix looked into Harry's eyes. Harry saw the wonder, and felt the warm felling of love as the phoenix became his familiar. They had a lot to talk about past captivity, new found freedom, and an exciting new planet to explore. With a phoenix as your familiar, the world truly is your oyster. Harry just hoped Hedwig would not get jealous. But he need not worry. Hedwig maybe a beautiful snowy white owl but she is all female and Fawkes looked hot. She would be happy with two handsome boys to care for now.
Then out of a shadow walked a tall figure clapping his hands and wearing a black cloak and hood hiding his face.
"Bravo! Bravo Harry! Well done! Well done indeed! Again you have surprised all of us, Harry." Said a cheerful yet darkly sinister voice as everyone turned to see. "Congratulations Harry my dear boy, you have fulfilled the prophecy!"
-The Family Business.-
AN: There is a large section from chapter 3 of the Half-blood Prince that has been included to show how in canon, Dumbledore is a real insensitive jerk at best, or a Machiavellian manipulative sociopath at worse. He unsparingly guilt tripped Harry for the injuries to Harry's friends, and Sirius' death. Then dumped the prophecy on him, and locks him up all alone in Durzkaban. Then when forced to talk to the boy to get his permission to use No12 and control of Sirius' gold, he callously manipulates the boy to take the inheritance he got from Sirius while abusing the Dursleys.
Harry knows the Dursleys will pay it back to him next summer with interest.
For Dumbledore the "us" meant "His" Order of the Phoenix and that did not include Harry.
Vernon realized the value of Harry having his own home could spell freedom for both of them, but Dumbledore's distraction with the glasses stopped Vernon telling Harry that.