Title: Harry Potter and the Revival of Magic

Author: Marcielle

Summary: In Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince we see Harry become both a potions and DADA genius while learning more than he ever thought about one Tom Marvolo Riddle. But what would Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts be like if Harry was a different person?

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter the battle of Hogwarts would not have happened because Harry would have gotten a Gandalf stick and the Gryffindor sword and waved it in Voldemort's face shouting "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" and Voldemort would have cried because Harry Potter is too awesome for him to beat. Since the Harry Potter series isn't like this I'm pretty sure you know I'm not J.K. Rowling.

A/N: I forgot why I put this here... maybe it is just to keep you distracted from the absolute awesomeness of Harry and Dumbledore in this chapter... yeah that's it!

Read and Enjoy

-Marcielle-

Previously in Harry Potter and the Revival of Magic:

Sprawling out on his floor Harry stared up at the ceiling, picking out the cracks and spider webs that had accumulated while he had been at Hogwarts and then in a raspy interpretation of Professor Trelawney "I predict that Voldemort or someone affiliated with Voldemort will do something evil, I will almost die because of something the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher does and some ferocious beastie will try to eat me because I taste delicious. So Mote It Be."

Unfortunately, as soon as Harry finished his fake prophesy he burst out laughing.

"This year is going to make me go bald... I just know it" Harry muttered forlornly as he went back to packing.

Chapter 2: Shenanigans

Since the arrival of Dumbledore's letter, Harry had become easily distracted and fidgety, thereby giving up on reading Mind Magick due to his complete lack of focus. However, Harry could seem to focus on Dumbledore's letter, in fact that was the only thing he could think about really. Since its arrival three days ago, Harry had lost track of how many times he had read the letter while eagerly anticipating being picked up from the Dursley's and taken to the Burrow. Harry was also curious about the 'matter' which Dumbledore required his assistance with, his moody thoughts about the past few years pushed to the back of his mind to deal with at a later date.

It was sad really... Harry had memorised the letter, word for word, last evening and was currently reciting it again in his head just to be sure that he hadn't missed anything:

Dear Harry,

If it is convenient to you I shall call at number four, Privet Drive this coming Friday at eleven P.M. to escort you to the Burrow, where you have been invited to spend the remainder of your school holidays.

If you are agreeable, I should also be glad of your assistance in a matter to which I hope to attend on the way to the Burrow. I shall explain this more fully when I see you.

Kindly send your answer by return of this owl. Hoping to see you this Friday.

I am, yours most sincerely,

-Albus Dumbledore-

Though he already knew it by heart, Harry still caught himself stealing glances at the parchment itself, which was currently lying innocently on his desk, every few minutes since seven o'clock that evening when he had first moved his desk chair to his current position beside his bedroom window. Between looking out the window intermittently and stealing glances at the parchment, Harry's concentration was completely absorbed. As the alarm clock on his desk clicked, ever closer, to eleven p.m. Harry's eyes became glued to the window, searching for even the slightest hint of Dumbledore's presence while the alarm clocks neon green numbers taunted him with their slow speed.

Harry knew what he was doing was pointless and just a little bit pathetic; reading and re-reading the missive in his head while eagerly peeking out his window like a high school girl waiting for her date to arrive... Truly, he was acting quite pathetic but he couldn't help it. Harry hated the Dursley's for the way they had treated him over the years and he really wanted to leave if given the option. So if waiting for Dumbledore to turn up, like a love sick teenage girl would get him out of Privet Drive then dress him in drag because he wanted out.

Harry had sent his reply with a frantic "YES" with the owl that had delivered the original message, as requested but all he could do now was wait; either Dumbledore was going to come of he was not...

'I forgot just how much I hate the waiting game...' Harry thought to himself with a dark chuckle.

While waiting, Harry had cleaned his room from top to bottom and sorted through his meagre amount of belongings, deciding what to keep and what to throw out. Almost ninety percent of Harry's clothes didn't fit him either because they were too large (Dudley's hand-me-downs) or they were too small because he grew out of them years ago and was only keeping them because he had nothing else. But this time, Harry figured he could shop for more clothing in Diagon Alley. He certainly deserved a shopping spree after all the crap he had been put through.

Harry had already packed his trunk with all of his school books and supplies, clothing and wizarding robes that still fit him and mementos that he had collected over the years like his photo album, invisibility cloak and the Maraunder's Map. The stolen copy of Mind Magick had also been stashed secretly between two pairs of boxers which pretty much guaranteed that Hermione or Ron wouldn't find it if they rummaged through his trunk. Now the large trunk was lying at the end of his bed, his initials clearly embossed in gold on the top of the trunk.

Just as Harry's alarm clock flashed 11:00 P.M. the streetlamp outside Harry's window went out suddenly with a sharp flicker. Harry was up from his seat by the window in a second with his wand held tightly in his now slightly clammy hands and his feet spread out into a duelling stance as he peered out into the darkness. Pressing his nose to the window, Harry's glasses slid down from their place at the top of his nose and clinked as their wire frames made contact with the glass while Harry squinted down at the street trying to see anything in the gloom of the night. Then out of the corner of his eye Harry glimpsed a tall figure in a long billowing cloak, striding gracefully up the front garden path with their silvery beard glowing slightly in the light of the moon when it peaked out of the folds of the cloak as the figure approached the front door of number four, Privet Drive.

"Dumbledore," Harry decisively whispered to himself with a nod as he put his wand back into the back pocket of his jeans and grabbed his trunk from his bed and Hedwig's cage from his desk with Hedwig safely inside.

Downstairs, Harry heard the sound of the doorbell ringing only to be followed by Uncle Vernon's shout of, "Who the blazes is calling at this time of night?"

At the sound of his uncle's shout, Harry froze with the doorknob firmly in his hand. 'Crap!' thought Harry; he didn't know whether it was just out of spite or simply because he had completely forgotten but Harry hadn't told the Dursley's that Dumbledore might be coming this evening... 'Oops' thought Harry mischievously to himself at the thought of Uncle Vernon's and Aunt Petunia's reaction to having yet another wizard in their house let alone what their reaction to Dumbledore's presence would be. With that last mischievous thought gone with a smirk Harry wrenched open his bedroom door with his trunk in one hand and Hedwig's cage in the other.

Harry walked slowly down the stairs trying to calm his inner laughter at the situation that he had created so that it wouldn't show on his face. For, if even a hint of a smirk or a smile was on his face and uncle Vernon saw it... well let's just say that his uncle would look more like a plum about to explode than a human.

Several steps from the bottom of the stairs Harry came to an abrupt halt, as long experience had taught him to remain out of arm's reach of Uncle Vernon whenever possible and especially when he was angry or about to become angry. Harry was luckily just in time to see his uncle open the door and to hear Dumbledore's grandfatherly voice say, "Good evening. You must be Mr. Dursley. I daresay Harry has told you I would be coming for him?"

On the doorstep stood the most unlikely pair that Harry had ever seen; one Albus Dumbledore in all of his half-moon spectacle and silvery bearded glory and his Uncle Vernon who was currently wearing a puce dressing gown that his complexion was beginning to match as his black bushy moustache twitching in irritation as he stared at Headmaster Dumbledore as though he could not believe his eyes. Understandably it took all of Harry's focus and concentration not to burst out laughing at the sight. However, one small twitch of his lips into a slight smile revealed more than it hid of Harry's true emotions.

"Judging by your look of stunned disbelief, Harry did not warn you that I was coming," said Dumbledore pleasantly with a genial smile on his face and a joyous twinkle in his eyes. "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," continued the Headmaster as he let himself in by brushing past the stunned Uncle Vernon, stepping smartly over the threshold and closed the front door behind himself in one quick move of gracefulness. "It is a long time since my last visit," said Dumbledore as he peered down his long, crooked, be speckled nose at Uncle Vernon. "I must say, your agapanthuses are flourishing."

Meanwhile on the stairs, Harry shook his head in amusement, another small smile gracing his chapped lips at the thought of just how Dumbledore his actions were. Most people couldn't simply let themselves into other people's homes but Dumbledore did with a smile on his face and knowing Dumbledore, he would probably get away with it too...

Uncle Vernon appeared to be dumbstruck. Not that this was much of a difference from how he normally was in Harry's eyes... but Uncle Vernon had said nothing at Dumbledore's grand entrance. Only a bemused expression graced his uncle's face as if his tiny brain was trying to process what had just happened.

'We've been invaded!' Harry thought in a squeaky impersonation of his Uncle Vernon's poor little brain with a small chuckle. However, Harry did not doubt that the capability of speech would return to his uncle, and soon, if the vein that was pulsating in Uncle Vernon's temple was any indication.

"Ah, good evening Harry," said Dumbledore who was currently looking up at him though his half-moon spectacles with a most satisfied expression on his face and a mischievous twinkle in his eye as if he was secretly pleased as punch to have thoroughly confused his uncle.

Truthfully, Harry felt sort of bad for his uncle because he knew, first hand, just how confusing and frustrating Dumbledore could be sometimes... No, make that all of the time. Currently, Harry was just pleased that he wasn't on the receiving end of Dumbledore's shenanigans.

A/N: I know it was short but well... this length just seemed to fit and I liked how it ended.

Feel free to review with your thoughts and comments!

-Marcielle-