Harry woke up on the third day of school with a feeling of nervous excitement. Today was going to be the first day Harry and his year mates had class with the new Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts. He wondered what sort of teacher Sol DeSoto would be. Harry was beginning to like Aurora; she was like a second Hermione, only she didn't prod him and Ron to do their homework during free periods. That didn't necessarily mean that he would get along with her grandfather, however.

He'd talked about it the previous evening with Ron.

"He can't be all that bad," Ron said, pulling on his pajama shirt, "look at Aurora. She seems all right, and she's against Voldemort. If she'd been raised by someone like, say, Lucius Malfoy, she'd probably be as much of a pimple as Draco is."

"It doesn't always work that way, though," Harry said. "Sirius was an absolute brick, and look at his mother. Even as a painting, she was unbearable. Then you've got Wormtail. From all accounts, his parents were quiet, respectable people who were scandalized by the thought of wizards just killing each other because of ancestry."

"Huh," Ron said, "I reckon you've got a point, Harry. There are times when awful parents raise good people, and it works the other way around too. Still, what're the odds Aurora was raised by a total wacko with sympathetic ties to You-Know-Who?"

"He doesn't have to be as cracked as Umbridge to be a poor teacher, though. He could just be like Lockhart; all charm and next to no practical skills. I wish somebody would give us a clear answer about it."

In an effort to divine what sort of teacher they were getting this year, Harry, Ron and Hermione had been asking those who had already had Defense Against the Dark Arts with him. From Ginny, they got "intense"; from Ernie Macmillan, who'd come up ostensibly to congratulate Ron and Hermione on their Head positions the first night of school (Though Hermione said he already had on the train ride over, then at the Sorting Feast. Ron's theory was that Ernie was insanely jealous and liked to be close to the badges on the off chance he or Hermione croaked), they heard that he seemed "Really first-rate"; Luna Lovegood insisted that he was "incredible, but you've got to be careful so he doesn't peer into your mind". None of them, however, would say anything about what Professor DeSoto had actually done or said in class.

"We'll know tomorrow, one way or another." Ron said, philosophically.

"I suppose so." With that, they went to sleep.

Harry woke Ron up. They got dressed and went down to the common room to find Aurora awake, ready, and waiting for them once again. The three of them went down to the Great Hall, with Aurora putting off questions about her grandfather's teaching style.

"You will know shortly. Have patience," was all she would say on the subject.

At breakfast, Hermione kept out of the querying, for which Aurora was grateful. It seemed to her rather rude for Ron and Harry to keep asking questions after she had, she thought, made it clear she wasn't going to answer any. Finally, after the twenty-fourth deflected question since they'd sat down to breakfast, Hermione snapped:

"For pity's sake, let the girl have a few moments to eat in peace! You'll know for yourselves what sort of teacher he is by the end of the day, anyway, so there's hardly a lot of point in driving Aurora mad asking about it."

Harry and Ron shut up, and Aurora threw Hermione a grateful smile.

When they stood up, Harry felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun around, only to come face to face with the very person he and Ron had spent so much time speculating about.

"Ah, Harry Potter. I would like to thank you for escorting my granddaughter around the castle," said Professor de Soto with a charming smile. "I know it is an added responsibility that you did not ask for. On that subject, I have a favor to ask. My granddaughter, she is as well-tutored in the subject of Defense Against the Dark Arts as I can manage. She shall either pass the exams at the year's end, or she will not; I can do no more. It would be a waste of time for her to attend the class. Would you be kind enough to escort her to the library, where she may take up independent studies and practice her English?"

Harry nodded nervously and glanced at Aurora. She was staring fixedly at her grandfather, wearing a puzzled expression, which gradually transformed to understanding and almost amusement. Little did Harry know what was going on inside her head at the moment.

::Sunfire? What are you up to?:: Aurora Mindspoke, her confusion at this odd request coloring her thoughts.

::It really doesn't make sense for you to attend the class. You already know far more about defending yourself than the students here, and it might occasion comment if you can fight as well as most of their warriors. It's better if they think you're barely competent; it makes you seem more… innocuous, and fits better with your façade of a sheltered, idealistic academic. This will also be the time you report anything suspicious but not of immediate consequence to Professor McGonagall. Obviously, anything urgent is not to be put off but reported immediately either to her or to Albus Dumbledore. I trust your judgment about the relative importance of anything you see or hear.:: Sol/Sunfire explained.

::Ah, that makes sense. I would hardly have had much use for combat practice if I spent most of my time concentrating on my studies. I'll probably be lucky if they don't wonder at my having any sort of athleticism at all. I'll have to be good at this "Quidditch" business, though, if I'm to guard Harry, since they're hardly likely to accept me on the team if I can't stay in the air.::

::Maybe if your acting skills are good enough, you can convince them you're only interested in physical activities to maintain your figure.::

::Or perhaps because I think a flabby body begets a flabby mind, which is closer to the truth. I suppose while I'm there I ought to do the homework we're already assigned so I don't have to worry about it when I'm supposed to be guarding Harry.::

::That is a sound notion. They seem to like cramming as much work into a day as possible here.::

Aurora looked over at Harry and grinned. "My thanks for escorting me. It is, as Grandfather said, a waste of time for me to try and become better at Defense. Transfiguration is my strong subject, and no amount of study will change that."

"Er, yea," Harry muttered, heading out towards the Library with Aurora following.

"So, er, how are you at Defense Against the Dark Arts?" he said a minute later, trying to make conversation.

"I am a bit of a disappointment to Grandfather, to be honest. He was so hoping one of his grandchildren would become an Auror. I might be able to pass the tests at the end of this year, but I probably will not make high marks. I passed the test at the end of my fourth year, but not by much." Aurora said modestly, hoping it sounded plausible.

"Oh, do they have O.W.L.s at the end of fourth year instead of fifth at your school?" Harry asked.

"Yes, though of course they aren't called O.W.L.s," Aurora said, mentally cursing at herself for getting the year wrong, "they are simply the end-of-school exams. You have to pass at least four of your exams every year to move up a year in school, and if you fail a test in any one subject two years running you must either drop it or be held back a year. The tests at the end of fourth year determine which courses you can take for the last three years."

"That sounds pretty tough," Harry commented.

"It is to prevent wasting the time of the instructors on exceedingly stupid or lazy students. What is the use, after all, on giving time and resources to students like the misters Crabbe and Goyle, who, to all appearances, have only enough brainpower between them to jump when they are told? I do not see any."

"That's a good point, actually." Harry said, thoughtfully, "Why keep a bunch of goons hanging around in school if you don't need to? School would be a lot better, and a lot safer, with the likes of Crabbe and Goyle gone."

They reached the library shortly afterwards, and Harry left Aurora at the door, waving as he jogged off towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Aurora went in and headed towards the section of the shelves devoted to Defense Against the Dark Arts and Dueling. After all, just because she could fight well in the style of her people was no reason to be complacent. It was always good to know what one might come up against in a fight.

Harry jogged and sprinted all the way to class, arriving with a little time before the lesson was to begin. He took the seat Ron had saved him and caught his breath. Even though there were still a few minutes to spare before class, Harry was the last person to arrive. Despite the lack of real information about this year's Defense teacher (or perhaps because of it) everyone was eager to see how the first lesson would turn out.

Seeing that all the seats were filled, Professor DeSoto smiled and waved his wand at the door. It shut with a nearly inaudible click as he took his place in front of the room. He looked around the room slowly, making eye contact with every student before he began.

"As you are already aware, I am to be your instructor in Defense Against the Dark Arts for this school year. My style of instruction is likely to be at odds with most of what you are accustomed to, since in this class there shall be no term papers."

A great many of the students looked relieved to hear this, even excited, although Hermione looked very skeptical.

"Being able to parrot information back to me from a textbook will not save your life if you are to engage in a duel, and my main concern here is to keep you alive." Pausing in his speech, the Professor once again swept the class with a sober gaze, impressing on them the seriousness of his words. "In a time when the wizarding world is at war within itself, Defense Against the Dark Arts takes on a much more grim meaning. You are not here to learn to evade redcaps or the bean sidhe now. The foe you face is ten times as dangerous and a thousand times more treacherous, because it is not as obvious. You are facing fellow human beings. And while I will focus most of our energies on spells and techniques designed to incapacitate or evade a foe, there may be times when, in order to save yourself or others, you may be forced to take a life."

Nobody looked eager now, as the whole class was practically holding its breath. With the exception of Dumbledore, none of the professors at Hogwarts had gone out of their way to state that their students could very likely face the choice of killing or being killed. Very few would even speak of the mounting death toll the Daily Prophet was tallying. The only times most of the professors would speak of the deaths directly to a student were when they had to pull them out of class to break the news that a relative had died.

"Now, today's time will be taken up in one-on-one interviews where I hope to determine how to suit your instruction to your personal temperaments. I will be calling you into my office individually, going alphabetically down the roll. The rest of you may feel free to amuse yourselves as you like, as long as you do not discuss your interviews with each other until everyone has had one. The first I would like to speak to is…" he consulted a list on his desk, "Miss Lavender Brown."

He smiled benevolently as Lavender nervously shuffled to the front of the room, holding to door open for her. Once they were gone, the rest of the students relaxed a trifle. A few students, including Hermione, took out homework from other classes and started in on it.

Ten minutes later, the office door opened and the Professor and Lavender emerged. Going down the roll, Professor DeSoto called each student in for personal interviews. The students emerged with varying expressions on their faces, ranging from determination to thoughtfulness to nervousness. When Harry was called, he walked in and sat warily in the seat Professor DeSoto indicated. The older man took the armchair behind the desk. Leaning forward over the polished oak top, he rested his elbows on it and steepled his fingers. His icy blue eyes met Harry's in a serious look.

"Now, Mister Potter… If I might call you Harry?" Harry nodded permission and Professor DeSoto continued. "Very well, Harry… I do not think we need dance around the obvious. Your needs and training in the areas of Defense Against the Dark Arts are greater than usual, because Lord Voldemort desires your death above almost all others."

Harry blinked and stammered "Y-yes, Professor…" He was shocked, not by the name itself as most wizards would be, but that this man would be willing to say it. Dumbledore was the only wizard Harry had ever met who could say it evenly, or even hear it without shuddering. His respect for the man rose a little.

"To be entirely honest with you, Harry," DeSoto went on, "from what Albus Dumbledore has told me, you are both much better trained than most of your peers and still incredibly lucky to have survived so far. Unless you have any particular problems with this plan, I would like to set you to working on three things: battle preparation, which includes speed and agility training, spell memorization, and learning to cast spells without an incantation; emergency healing techniques, both for use on yourself and others; and finally, I believe it is imperative to tutor you in what my people refer to as Mind-gifts, one of which is, I understand, already being taught to you by Professor Snape and is referred to as 'Occlumency'."

Harry was perfectly still for a moment, before asking in an even tone: "Would that mean I wouldn't take lessons with Snape anymore, then?"

::You may continue them if you so choose, Harry, but I honestly feel you have not made nearly the progress you should have with him, and Dumbledore agreed.::

Harry relaxed for half a second at the prospect of not having to continue the horrid, worse than useless lessons with Snape, before jumping out of his chair and backing away from Professor DeSoto, wand raised protectively in front of him.

"All right, your lips didn't move. What the bloody hell? Are you some sort of amateur ventriloquist or did you just do what you're implying you just did?"

"Settle down, Harry. Yes, I did speak to you in thought. I had a feeling that you did, in fact, have Mind-gifts, based upon your headmaster's descriptions. Occlumency and Legilimency are broad terms that could cover several gifts… I have a theory that you were born with the capacity to develop, not only Mage-gift, which flows through all wizards to some degree, but also Mindspeaking, Empathic, minor Forseeing and Farseeing gifts, and possibly a touch of Animal Mindspeaking. Your early contact with Voldemort, when his curse upon you was subverted, caused a suppression of these gifts for your own survival, but when Voldemort was… reborn, it broke down your barriers, leaving you with an open ability and no training. That brings me to one of the greatest liabilities to both you and to Voldemort: you are connected. What has Dumbledore told you of this connection?"

Harry grimaced and answered: "When the curse hit me, my mum's sacrifice protected me, making it bounce back and hit Voldemort. It left me with the scar, and having been cursed by him and lived, I somehow got some of his powers, like being a Parseltongue. The scar still connects us somehow, but Dumbledore never explained exactly how."

"I have a theory, Harry, that fits what I have been told, but also makes me extremely worried." Professor DeSoto caught and held Harry's gaze, his voice level, but grim. "Once, so long ago that the story is all but forgotten by history, there were two wizards. One, named Urtho, was a great Adept-Mage of the Light, who had almost unlimited power, spent his days helping people, and creating new spells… he even created or modified several species of non-humans, including Gryphons. The other was called Maar, and he was as wicked as the first mage was good. He was also an Adept, the highest power class of mage, but he preferred the sources of his power to be blood, and pain, and death. Now, this wicked mage had made war upon his neighbors, amassing more and more power, until the good mage decided that he could not stand idly by, and gathered his own army to oppose the spread of the wicked mage's influence across the world. Their battle raged for years, the good mage slowly losing ground. Finally, the wicked mage used a traitor to poison the good mage, who, to prevent the world coming under the sway of the wicked mage, unleashed a cataclysmic weapon that utterly destroyed both their strongholds." Harry couldn't see what this had to do with him, but he paid attention anyway. "What the good mage had not anticipated, however, was that the wicked mage had taken precautions against ever experiencing true death." Now Harry focused sharply on what Professor DeSoto was saying. "There is… an alternate place that this world is connected to. When you use Floo powder or a Portkey, or you Apparate, you are passing through this other place, which is almost pure energy. The wicked mage had, for years, been working on spells that allowed his spirit to hide in a pocket of this alternate place, in such a way that he was hidden unless you knew exactly what to look for. He had created and performed spells that enabled him to hide there until someone descended from him first tried to use magic. Then his spirit was able to invade their bodies, and eradicate the original owner's soul, and take it as his own." Harry recoiled, horrified. The older man nodded at his reaction. "Yes, it is reprehensible. He was finally defeated when one he possessed, instead of fighting the invading spirit, hid his spirit and mind away. He eventually helped a group of righteous mages to force the wicked spirit from his body, and to tear open its hiding place in that other plane, destroying it forever. Then the mages destroyed the stronghold the wicked mage had created in our world, obliterating all traces of him that they could find… but I now believe he must have had a secret cache at some remote place, and that Voldemort must have come into possession of some grimoire or journal of this wicked mage, detailing his ideas for continual regeneration. It is my feeling that Voldemort tried, with some degree of success, to emulate his methods. Since he has evidenced no desire to have any offspring, perhaps anticipating a rival, I believe he set up his spells so that the person who defeated him would be the one whose body he invaded, by following the lingering trail of magic from the spell that caused his death to them. It would have a certain painful irony that I think would appeal to him for the one who thought to bring about his downfall to be the vehicle of his return."

"But, sir," Harry interrupted desperately, dreading what he sensed was coming, "He can't have done that, can he? Nobody defeated him; he cast the killing curse and it recoiled to hit him…" He trailed off ass the Professor shook his head sadly.

"Don't you see, Harry, that that is exactly what causes me to think that this is what he did? He obviously had not anticipated the complications caused by your mother's sacrifice, and when he tried to kill you, his killing curse rebounded. His spirit, instead of following a trail of magic to an adult wizard, was pulled through his wand, to you, and back to himself. I believe that on that fateful night, his spirit was split into three parts: one that floated free, not quite in either plane, until it possessed the unfortunate Professor Quirrell; one that was stored in his wand, and one…" He paused and gave Harry a serious and pitying look, "One that appears to have attached itself to you, connecting him to you and granting you certain limited versions of his powers."

Harry slumped back, stunned. It made a sick sort of sense, especially when looked at in light of the prophecy. If Voldemort believed his downfall would come at the hands of a child, of course he would want to prevent that. Even if he had been willing to chance the efficacy of his spells at that point, he would certainly not enjoy being trapped in the body of a little boy. The man who defeated Voldemort would be showered with honors, probably easily chosen for Minister of Magic; granted all sorts of gifts. If a boy were to defeat the most feared Dark Wizard in centuries, people would call it a fluke. But in forgetting the ancient magical protections invoked by his mother giving her life to save Harry, Voldemort erred in a nearly fatal way.

"So… so my scar is like a bit of Voldemort, then?" Harry asked, nauseated by the thought.

"A physical manifestation of it, more likely."

There was a long silence, during which Professor DeSoto waited patiently as Harry tried to work out all logical conclusions to this theory. Finally Harry spoke up again.

"So… now Voldemort must want me dead even more than before, because there's a piece of his soul-" Harry's face twisted in a look of revulsion and he felt ill "A piece of his soul in my body, lending me his powers. He'll kill me just to get it back."

Professor DeSoto nodded, then added: "What is, perhaps, worse is that at this point, he simply wants to push a final confrontation with you. You have grown into a young man with quick reflexes, bravery, and a reasonable amount of power. If you were to perform the killing curse on him at this exact moment, I think he would be fairly pleased to take over your body. People would call you- or rather, him- the Chosen One, a hero, a savior. Being the man who defeated the direst dark wizard in centuries would open many doors of opportunity. Hiding his true nature until he was well established would not be difficult, at which time he could transform your body into his preferred appearance once more, and reveal himself to his associates again. And if he were to defeat you in a duel of mages, it would be no great loss to him. What we need to do is put him at a disadvantage, which I hope training will do."

Harry nodded decisively. "I'll do it. I want to get rid of Voldemort once and for all, more than anything."

"Very good." Professor DeSoto said, a grim smile on his face. "Keep that attitude, because this will not be an easy task. You will get tired, you will probably be injured at some point, and there may be times when it seems like you will never be ready to battle Voldemort on an even footing. However, I believe you have the capacity in you to be a formidable opponent, or I would not be wasting my time on you. We'll start your private lessons this Sunday."

Harry was surprised to hear Professor DeSoto speak that way. Most adults either treated him as some sort of super hero or a small child. Nobody had honestly said that they thought he was up to the challenge of taking down Voldemort with a lot of arduous training; they either assumed he was doomed or that somehow, Luck and Fate were on his side and would let him defeat his opponent. A few members of the Order were fiercely insistent that he must win, but few had a specific plan for making that possible. It was a refreshing change for Harry.

Professor DeSoto stood, and Harry did likewise. The Professor extended his hand, and Harry shook it. The door swung open and Harry went back to sit with Hermione and Ron, who was looking quite nervous.

By the time all the individual interviews were finished, it was time for lunch, so Professor DeSoto dismissed them with the warning "Wear comfortable shoes and clothing that does not hinder movement to the next lesson, if you please."

When they left the room, Harry, Ron and Hermione found Aurora waiting for them, saying a friendly Hufflepuff who was heading to this area of the castle had led her there. Together they went to lunch, where they discussed their respective interviews while Aurora listened.