Harry walked back into the room where Dumbledore was waiting patiently and handed him the contract which he had hastily written up.
"Read that, after you sign it I can let you know where you can find your Boy-Who-Lived," he stated.
Dumbledore peered at the contract rapidly scanning it. "Most of this seems quite reasonable. However, I must be allowed to discuss the fact that I have found him with my allies. Finding the Boy-Who-Lived will provide an incredible boost of morale to those opposing Voldemort. I must be free to at least do that."
"No, I'm afraid it's an all or nothing situation. Either you sign that, or I shall obliviate you of the details of this meeting and send you on your way."
Dumbledore looked like he was about to argue but a single look at Harry's face was all it took to convince him that he was wasting his time.
"Very well," he stated as he pulled out a quill to sign the contract.
"Just a second," said Harry. "I still need to lay in the usual contract enchantments that will make it magically enforceable."
Harry started tapping the contract with the pencil that he had been holding the entire time and mumbling under his breath.
After a few minutes, he handed the contract over to Dumbledore and said — "There you go, you can sign it now."
Dumbledore stared at the young man. "How — How did you do that without a wand?" he asked. Contract enchantments were quite complex and even he, with all of his years of experience, would never attempt to perform them without a wand.
Harry looked surprised as if he had no idea what the man was talking about. Then he looked at the pencil he was holding and started to laugh.
"Oh man, you really don't get out much. Do you? My dear Professor, this IS a wand," he stated as he held his pencil in front of him. It looked like a perfectly ordinary muggle pencil, black with gold lettering on the side that marked it as an HB pencil. Obviously one that hadn't been used much as its tip was perfectly sharp and the length showed that it had never been sharpened. "The wizards over here in the States have always believed in blending in with the non-magical population. As such...well, why would you ever want to carry a wand that looks like a wand. Everyone here uses wands made to look like a pencil or a pen. Oh, you should have seen how much I was teased the first time I pulled out my old Ollivander wand at summer camp. All the other kids were asking me why I was carrying my grandfather's wand. Hell, for weeks that's what they called me — Grandad!"
With a start, Dumbledore realised that the young man had been holding the pencil the entire time they had been talking. He had been held at wandpoint and he had not even realised it.
"I don't like the ones that look like pens though. They coat those in something that makes them look and feel like a metal or plastic pen. The pencil ones feel much more natural, just like the wooden wands you're used to. This one is even made of holly, just like my old wand. You can even write with it in a pinch, but that's not really a good idea. Replacing the leads can be a bit of a pain."
Dumbledore sighed, perhaps he was getting too old. He rubbed his tired eyes and signed the contract.
"Excellent," said Harry as he put away the contract carefully. "Now, then I guess I have to do my part."
He pulled out a slip of paper and paused. He seemed incredibly reluctant for a moment then he handed the paper over to Dumbledore with a sigh.
Dumbledore looked at the paper and the biggest smile suddenly blossomed on his face.
"Harry, my dear boy. You have no idea how good it is to see you after all these years."
Harry plucked the paper out of Dumbledore's hand, carried it to his kitchen sink and set it on fire. He waited for the paper to completely burn then he picked up the remnants and crushed the black fragments between his fingers before turning on the water and washing the lot away.
"You had something to tell me I believe," he stated.
"Aah yes, of course I do," said Dumbledore a bit taken aback. He suddenly seemed a lot older and tired than he had looked just a moment ago.
Dumbledore closed his eyes and buried his face in his long-fingered hands. Harry watched him, but this uncharacteristic sign of exhaustion, or sadness, or whatever it was from Dumbledore, did not soften him.
Dumbledore lowered his hands and surveyed Harry through his half-moon glasses.
"It is time," he said, "for me to tell you what I should have told you years ago, Harry. Please sit down. I am going to tell you everything. You may get angry after hearing some of the things that I tell you but… I ask only a little patience. You will have your chance to rage at me — to do whatever you like — when I have finished. I will not stop you."
Harry stared at him for a moment, then flung himself back into the chair opposite Dumbledore and waited.
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