The Anger.

With a grin of her own, something very few people ever see, she said, "Then, you'd best come in."

About half an hour later, she snatched her face out of the pensieve with a burst of laughter. Though he had lived the experience, it still made Professor Flitwick laugh along with her.

While Professor McGonagall was trying to calm herself down, the little professor was shakily trying to pour two glasses of Old Ogden's Finest into the glasses earlier provided by her. Neither cared that he'd managed to spill some onto the desk as he was pouring.

The two then sat back just after Professor Flitwick vanished the spilled mess. A glass in each's hand.

"Oh, Merlin!" said Professor McGonagall, still trying to stifle her laughter. "I don't know why Albus keeps trying. That boy has him on the back foot as soon as he steps into the room."

"And Miss Greengrass is now also taking an active part in keeping him there!" said Professor Flitwick.

"But, what was with the spectacles?" she asked.

"They're charmed," he replied. "I suspect they both know the Headmaster and Severus are Legilimencers and they're charmed to repel that sort of intrusion."

"Did you see the expression on Severus's face when Miss Greengrass made that comment about Albus's announcement?" she asked. "It looked like he couldn't have been prouder of her, one moment, and annoyed about it the next. The poor man was conflicted!" Nodding, he replied, "But when they started into describing the various traps, I thought our beloved Headmaster was going to either faint or soil himself, or both."

"And then to mention the possibility of a betting pool among the students?" she asked. "I believe I shall be speaking with a matching pair of my young lions tomorrow. If there's anyone who'll know of it's existence or not, it's those two."

"You think he may have lied?" he asked.

"Certainly not," she said. "All he said was, 'I think there maybe...', nothing more that that. He let Albus jump to his own conclusions."

"Still, it is concerning he was able to describe the traps in detail," he said. "That means the students know more than enough to be worrisome."

"Agreed," she replied with a small sigh. "I believe it's time Albus returned that little trinket back to it's rightful owner. It is clear it provides too great a risk to the students to be kept here any longer."

"I agree," he said. "Those traps need to be dismantled, post haste."

Not too long later Professor Flitwick had just finished packing away his pensieve and chuckling a little to himself when Professor McGonagall asked in a sweet, girly voice, "Dear professor, has some miscreant hit you with a Tickling Jinx?"

That set both of them off again.

A week later, Harry was again summoned to the Headmaster's office. Again, he was accompanied by both Daphne and Professor Flitwick.

Just as with the last time they ascended the spiral staircase beyond the gargoyle, both pre-teens donned their spectacles. Professor Flitwick watched them with amusement. Harry just grinned and winked at him. As they entered, Harry said, "Now, I'm not too fond of the decor, mind. After all, I'll have to put up with all the portraits of past Headmasters hanging on the walls..."

"Ah, Harry; Miss Greengrass;" interrupted Dumbledore. "Welcome."

Turning to look at Dumbledore, as they were walking towards him, Harry mock-exclaimed, "Albus! Fancy meeting you here! This is a pleasant surprise!" Turning to Snape, as always perched on a stool in the corner, "And Potions Master Snape. You're looking good, my man. Have you been exercising? It looks good on you."

Harry watched as Snape's expression passed through shock to anger to annoyance while he heard Professor Flitwick lightly snicker behind them.

Stepping up to the twin wooden chairs, Harry - who had been practicing quite a bit for these meetings - reconfigured them into a higher love seat, replete with the Crest of House Potter centred high in the velvet upholstery of the back rest. He was actually quite pleased with how it turned out.

"Now, Albus, I'm glad you're here," said Harry. "I've been looking forward to our little chat about the property of House Potter you've still not returned, you naughty man."

While guiding Daphne to a seat upon the loveseat he carefully glanced at Dumbledore and saw the look of shock on his face at the advanced transfiguration he'd performed. Taking seat himself, he said, "I must say, Albus, I've charged the goblins at Gringotts with immediately contacting me as my property is returned so we can put this horrid business behind us. And, yet..."

Harry immediately gazed upon Dumbledore, and gave a big dramatic sigh with a slight slow shake of his head. "I'm quite disappointed in you, Albus, that not one item has yet been returned." *Tsk, tsk, tsk* "Honestly! I thought better of you than this. I may not like you but I thought better of you than to find you resorting to common thievery."

Stuttering, the old man replied, "Now, Harry, there were a few items loaned to me by your father. Clearly, he wanted me to have those items..."

"And, after my father was killed," interrupted Harry, "It behooved you to immediately return those items. You have yet to do that. And my patience with you is wearing quite thin, on this matter."

"It - would help me if you were to make clear to me just which items I'm supposed to have borrowed..." the old man tried.

"All of them, Albus," said Harry; again, cutting him off.

"All property in your possession that rightfully belongs to House Potter, including all property you may have given to others for whatever reason in the meantime, is to be returned," Harry stated firmly. "I shall be generous and allow you until Christmas Day to carry out this small task."

"And if I am unable to determine what I hold that, as you put it, rightfully belongs to House Potter?" asked Dumbledore carefully.

"As you're a master Occlumens, I suggest you review your memories. From them I have confidence you will recall what you have. I do not wish to take steps to see you forced to return them, or have them taken from you," replied Harry matter-of-factly. "I've been more than generous with you in the time I'm giving you to comply, Albus."

With another attempt of his own disappointed grandfather look, Dumbledore said, "There are items your father gave to me for safekeeping, Harry. I believe your father would be disappointed with you if you continue with this behaviour towards me." With his own disappointed sigh, Harry replied, "Alas, we will never know, as he is dead. And, as he is dead, his - loan - of items to you has ended. I may have been willing to continue to loan you certain items, Albus, if you hadn't dumped me on the doorstep of the Dursleys and actually placed me with my rightful guardians. However," he sighed, "I instead find myself actually hating you. So, why on earth would I even be willing to consider loaning you even so much as a bookmark of my personal property?"

"Come now, Headmaster," said Daphne, cutting in. "You know the law is on Harry's side here. There's no need for you to be so recalcitrant. It avails you nothing and will only see you in further difficulties with the goblins and the DMLE."

Instead of arguing further, Dumbledore gestured a wave-off motion towards them, while his mind was obviously on other matters, and quietly said, "Very well. Thank you. You may go."

"Why, thank you, Albus," said Harry. "I guess I can make use of this extra time I'm graciously providing you in writing the article for the Daily Prophet I foresee I may need post Christmas Day."

As he rose and offered his arm to Daphne, he said to her, "What do you think of the headline 'Headmaster Steals from Boy-Who-Lived', my love?"

"I think 'Dumbledore Steals from Hero of Magical Britain' sounds better, darling," replied Daphne.

With a bit of a shrug, Harry took her arm in his elbow and began to escort her from the room; calm as you please. Just before he passed through the door he said, "I look forward to our next meeting, Albus, when you'll be informing me you've finally dutifully returned my property. I'd hate to up our agreed upon timetable."

"What was that about property belonging to House Potter?" asked Professor McGonagall.

As with the previous week, she found the Charms Master at her door with his pensieve and a bottle of Old Ogden's Finest. She had quickly ushered him inside.

"I believe Dumbledore may have in his possession items that he really shouldn't have," said the little professor carefully. "I noticed, once, that the pensieve he has bears the Potter Crest."

"Yes," she said. "James loaned it to him - Oh, of course. It should have been returned on James's death, and wasn't."

"Which makes me wonder what else the Headmaster has that should have been returned," he said. "Clearly, Mister Potter is well aware of at least some of what was borrowed." Coming down the stairs from his dorm, Harry noticed a number of students clustered around the notice board.

'Clearly something new has arisen,' he thought to himself. "What's going on?" he asked in general.

One of the Second Years, Eddie Carmichael, turned about and said, "The notice requesting a list of all those staying in the castle over Christmas has just been posted. Personally, I much prefer to be home with family during this time."

"People actually want to Christmas?" asked Harry.

stay

here

over

"Yeah, there's always a few," replied Carmichael. "Some people don't have the best home life, you know?" He immediately blushed and looked down. "Sorry, Potter," he muttered.

"That's quite alright, Mister Carmichael," replied Harry. "I, at least, have a new home to go to now. That part of my life is done with."

No one, now, was unaware of Harry's life with the Dursleys. Everyone knew what he meant by 'that'.

"Soooo, where are you planning on staying?" the Second Year asked, hoping to quickly change the subject.

"I'll be spending some time at Greengrass Estate with Miss Greengrass and her family," he replied. "But I also want to be staying, or visiting, with a few other people dear to my family for short periods of time.

"Then, there's also a bit of family business I need to take care of at Gringotts that I cannot put off, so I'll probably stay that night at my Mum's old place. It's pretty much up in the air, at the moment."

"Well, don't forget there's Christmas shopping to get out of the way," the boy said. "What is it? Only two weeks until the Hogwarts Express. And then, only one full day between when we arrive at Kings Cross Station and Christmas Day?"

"Urrgh!" groaned Harry. "Don't remind me! Diagon Alley is going to be packed on that day."

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