After some consideration, I have upped the rating on this story to R. There are several dark and mature concepts that are discussed in this chapter, and I don't think it would be appropriate for a PG-13 rating. Thanks for your understanding (and if you don't like it, bugger off then) ::wink::. On with the story!
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Chapter 3: Dumbledore's Decision
"Where are we going?" Harry asked, when instead of turning left towards the headmaster's office, McGonagal made a right.
"Albus has a private floo connection outside of the ministry's authority that directly connects the school to his residence," McGonagal replied, not breaking stride. "Since such things are illegal, he thought it best to keep the entrance in a place where no one would ever look." She stopped and turned to face a large painting featuring a silver bowl of fruit.
"The kitchen?" Harry asked as she reached out with her left hand and gently tickled the pear.
"It's especially convenient, considering there is a house elf who travels back and forth so as to make sure Albus is always comfortable," Minerva said stepping through the hole that now occupied the space the painting had just been in, Harry close behind.
"Dobby!" Harry exclaimed when he saw the house elf puttering about in the kitchen whilst cleaning a mug. Dobby looked up at him and the Headmistress.
"Headmistress," he said with a smile, suddenly appearing at their side. He turned to look at Harry. "Dobby is sorry, sir. Dobby does not know who you are, even though you apparently know who Dobby is."
"Er…that's all right Dobby," Harry replied, getting used to the fact that no one seemed to remember who
he was anymore. "I'm sure you'll find out eventually." 'I hope.'
"Follow me," McGonagal said, walking off towards the back of the kitchen. Harry quickly followed her, giving
Dobby one last backwards glance before turning all of his attention to the headmistress.
"Are you coming too?" Harry asked as they arrived at a fireplace.
"Of course," McGonagal replied. "It wouldn't exactly do to just have you show up with only that story of yours, now would it?" Harry shrugged as she produced a small pouch of floo powder from her robes. "Just follow my lead."
Harry watched on as the headmistress knocked on the brick two above and three to the left of the upper right-hand corner of the fireplace. Immediately the fireplace roared to life.
"Who is it?" a voice emanated from the fireplace.
"Minerva," McGonagal answered. "And someone who needs to see Albus. It's urgent."
"Very well," the voice said. "Proceed." The fire went out.
McGonagal handed Harry a small amount of floo powder and stepped into the fireplace.
"The sanctum," she said and threw down a small amount of floo. Green flames sprang up around her and immediately she was gone. Harry sighed as he remembered how much he hated floo travel, but stepped into the alcove nonetheless.
"The sanctum," he said clearly, dropping the powder at he feet. Harry arrived at his destination so fast he was sure he couldn't have traveled more than a kilometer. The fireplace spit him out and he landed on the hardwood floor with a dull thud.
"Come on, then," McGonagal said, pulling him to his feet.
She led him down a hall to a pair of large double doors. The headmistress raised her hand to knock, but stopped suddenly as a voice from within the room called out, "Come in, Minerva." She moved her hand to the handles of the door and opened them inwards, revealing a beautiful study.
The walls were made of glass, while the wood floor was made of what Harry guessed was solid cherry. Looking up, Harry wouldn't have been surprised if he was told that the ceiling bore the same enchantment upon it that the Great Hall did. There were a couple bookshelves here and there, but aside from the desk and the chair behind it, the room was unfurnished. Sitting in the chair was Albus Dumbledore.
"I'm glad that you came," he said. "Severus sent a message ahead to let me know you would be coming."
"I see," McGonagal said, with some annoyance.
"And you are Harry, I take it?" Dumbledore asked, looking at Harry.
"Yes, sir," he replied.
"Very well. Minerva, please leave us. I will let you know of any developments when we are done. I daresay Harry is going to have to stay with me for a time."
McGonagal said nothing, she simply nodded and turned on her heel, quickly leaving the two of them alone.
"Sit, Harry," Dumbledore said, waving his hand and conjuring a comfy armchair in front of his desk. "Tea?"
"No thank you, sir," Harry replied.
"Very well," he said, conjuring a pot of hot water and a mug that Harry saw held a tea bag. "We have much to talk about."
"Do you know all of it already?" Harry asked.
"Most of it," Dumbledore replied, pouring water in the mug. "But I am missing some of the more important details. Namely, why you and Tom Riddle are alive."
"I couldn't tell you that if I wanted to," Harry said. "I wish I knew myself."
"I do not know anything of you or Tom Riddle," Dumbledore said with a sigh. "Only what Severus Snape has told me."
"What do you know?" Harry asked. "From what I know, Bellatrix LeStrange found both Tom Riddle and a way to restore his memories. It seems that when Voldemort drank the restorative potion, his memory was restored, along with all of his death eaters, which is why Snape remembers what he does.
"How do you know all of this?" Dumbledore asked.
"I saw it," Harry said, pulling his bangs up to reveal his lightning-shaped scar. "When I was a baby, Voldemort tried to kill me but failed. This scar is what remains, and it binds me to him."
"How very interesting," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "Do you remember what was in the potion that restored Tom?"
"Phoenix tears, unicorn and dragon's blood…." Harry trailed off. "There might've been something else as well. I don't remember."
"Phoenix tears?" Dumbledore asked, surprised. "That is a useful piece of information."
"How so?" Harry asked as Dumbledore looked up. A moment later a beautiful red and gold bird appeared high above them and flew down to land on Albus' shoulder.
"Fawkes…"
"Oh, you two know each other already?" Dumbledore asked with amusement as the bird stared at Harry warmly.
"I don't know if he remembers me, seeing how no one else does," Harry said. In response to that, Fawkes hopped off Dumbledore's shoulder and nudged the pocket where Harry's wand was. Harry stared on in amazement as Fawkes then turned around and shook his tail at him.
"I think perhaps he's trying to tell you something?" Dumbledore said with a smile. Harry took out his wand and Fawkes chirped brightly.
"The core of my wand is a tail feather from Fawkes," he said.
"Then perhaps he does remember you," Dumbledore replied with a smile as the phoenix started singing softly.
"Yeah."
"If Fawkes remembers all that happened, then perhaps there is way for him to transfer this knowledge to me," Dumbledore said, looking at the bird. Fawkes turned his head to look at him appraisingly. After a moment of this, the phoenix walked over to Dumbledore's tea and cried two tears into it. Once this was done, Fawkes walked over to where Harry was sitting and bit him rather hard on the hand.
"Ow!" Harry yelped. "What'd you do that for?" His hand had begun to bleed.
Fawkes looked meaningfully at the wound before looking back over to the tea and chirping twice.
"Perhaps he means for your blood to be in the mixture," Dumbledore said. "Two drops?" Fawkes chirped once in approval.
"Well…all right then," Harry said, lifting his hand over the mug. "You're sure about this, sir?"
"If my phoenix believes it is safe, then I trust him," Dumbledore replied. "If one told me he was the most intelligent being on the planet, I would not be surprised."
"Hermione might want to argue with that," Harry said unthinkingly with a smile. When he realized what he had said, his face fell.
"Perhaps you could do this, so I may know why it looked like your heart just broke in two," Dumbledore said, pointing at his tea. Harry nodded and held his hand over the drink while using his other to squeeze two drops of blood into it. When he was finished, Fawkes walked over to the drink and shook one of his wing feathers loose. He picked it up in his beak and stirred the drink.
"How remarkable," Dumbledore said while watching with a smile. "He never ceases to amaze me."
Fawkes finished stirring the drink and dropped the feather onto the desk while looking up at Dumbledore expectantly.
"Well, I believe the muggle saying is, 'bottoms up'?" he said with a smile before downing the contents. He closed his eyes and brought his hand to rub his temples slowly while the mixture took effect.
"Are you okay, sir?" Harry asked.
"I will be," Dumbledore replied. "All of these memories suddenly flooding back into my mind are making me a bit dizzy."
"You're remembering, then?" Harry asked extremely hopefully.
"A minute, Harry. Just give me a minute."
He sat staring at Dumbledore for what felt like an eternity (even though in reality it was only about forty seconds), while Fawkes trotted over to him and cried on his hand to heal the wound. Finally Dumbledore sighed and opened his eyes, staring directly into Harry's.
"Sir?"
Dumbledore stood and walked around from behind his desk, and showing a remarkable amount of strength for a wizard his age, pulled Harry clean out of the chair and embraced him in a hug to rival one of Molly Weasley's.
"It is good to have you back again, Harry Potter."
"I'm glad to be back," Harry mumbled into Dumbledore's cloak. "Could you let me go, please?"
"Sorry," the former headmaster grinned stepping back, the familiar twinkle having returned to his old eyes. "Apparently we now have much more to talk about."
"Sir," Harry said.
"Albus, Harry, Albus," Dumbledore corrected.
"Albus," Harry revised. "I want to make it clear that my first priority is to rid the world of Voldemort once and for all. He's caused too much damage to roam free."
"It is clear to me that you have other priorities as well," Dumbledore said. "I will understand if they are private, but could you perhaps enlighten me?" Harry sat in silence for a moment before he spoke again.
"I need to make Hermione remember who I am," he said quietly. At this, Dumbledore sighed.
"We should talk about Hermione," he said. "There is much you should know about her."
"Nothing bad, I hope?" Harry asked.
"I'm afraid so," Dumbledore said. "It was really rather tragic."
"But...she looked fine when I saw her in McGonagal's office..." Harry said, eyes wide.
"She is fine now," Dumbledore replied. "But she has only recovered very recently."
"Recovered?" Harry asked. "From what?"
"Perhaps this -" Dumbledore retrieved a scroll from his desk. " - will help you understand."
"I don't get it," Harry said, reading the contents of the scroll. "This is you telling what happened after I smashed the egg."
"Yes, well," Dumbledore said, leaning back. "I was only partially right in regards to Hermione."
"It says that she recovered from the Cruciatus Curse, forgot what happened...was sad...graduated with top honors, but never married..." he said reading from the scroll. "I'm confused."
"Hermione graduated at the top of her class and never married, that much is true," Dumbledore said. "But see the part where I said she was growing stronger each day?"
"Yes..." Harry said, squinting at the parchment.
"It was the other way around," Dumbledore said with a sigh. "She was slowly falling into depression."
"Wha-?" Harry gaped.
"It is a terrible feeling, Harry, to feel as if half of your soul is missing," Dumbledore said. "I'm sure you must have felt it too at some point."
"I don't know," Harry replied. "I dreamt of her nearly every night, come to think of it. I guess that got me through the days."
"Yes, hmmm...well I can say with certainty that she did not dream of you," Dumbledore said seriously. "She tried to kill herself three months after graduation."
"WHAT!?" Harry yelled, jumping to his feet.
"Calm down, dear boy, calm down," Dumbledore said calmly. He waited a moment for Harry to settle back into his chair as tears started to run down his cheeks. "Fortunately, Ron Weasley is a much more accomplished wizard and friend than he lets on. He knew of her increasing depression and placed a ward on her so that if her life force was ever threatened, she would be held in a stasis while he alerted the proper authorities. It worked perfectly. He was able to bring the best mediwizards in the world to her apartment roughly two minutes after she slit her throat. Thanks to the stasis, she lost the amount of blood one would lose as the result of a paper cut."
"I can't believe this," Harry sighed, wiping his eyes. "If I hadn't gone and destroyed that blasted egg -"
"Then Voldemort would have it and we would all surely be dead by now," Dumbledore said. "Including Hermione."
"I suppose," Harry replied with a sigh.
"Since her attempted suicide, Hermione has been in St. Mungo's psychiatric ward. When the Transfiguration position opened up at Hogwarts when Minerva took my place as Headmaster, we both thought that it might be a good way to help take her mind off things."
"So that's why she was in the office," Harry said.
"Yes," Dumbledore replied. "I do hope she will accept the position. It would be good for her."
"Yeah," Harry said.
"So, now we must figure out what to do with you," Dumbledore said appraisingly.
"Wait!" Harry exclaimed. "Couldn't we just have Fawkes help us make that mixture and restore everyone's memories?"
At this, Fawkes trilled loudly causing both men to look at him. He let out one long, quivering note before shaking his head once adamantly.
"I think he says that it's not possible," Dumbledore. "My phoenix-speak is a little rusty, but that the general gist of it."
"You can speak phoenix?" Harry asked.
"I used to be able to, at any rate," Dumbledore said. "Why isn't it possible, Fawkes?"
The phoenix nudged the parchment telling of what happened after the battle with Voldemort and made an indent with his beak on the portion telling of Dumbledore's connection to him.
"Ah," Dumbledore said. "Yes, that would account for it."
"What would?" Harry asked.
"Fawkes is my familiar, Harry," Dumbledore replied. "It's a difficult concept to explain, but whereas you and Hermione and soul-mates, Fawkes is my soul-brother. Does that make sense to you?"
"Sort of," Harry said, looking at the phoenix.
"Good enough for the moment," Dumbledore said. "Now, we were discussing your living arrangements?"
"Er...right," Harry said.
"As it happens..." Dumbledore said looking through his desk. "The Defense Against the Dark Arts position is vacant."
"What a surprise," Harry said with a smile.
"How would you like for me to make a recommendation?"
"You want...you want me to be the Defense teacher?" Harry asked.
"Well you're more than qualified," Dumbledore said. "How about it?"
"Sure..." Harry said, still slightly shocked.
"Very good," Dumbledore said brightly. "I will notify Minerva and make sure you get an interview shortly."
"Th-thank you, sir."
"Albus."
"Albus," Harry corrected himself.
"As for now, I think it best you stay with me," Dumbledore said. "You might be a little...out of shape, given your absence from the wizarding world, and I think a little training wouldn't be amiss."
"Of course, Albus."
"Come, Harry," Dumbledore said, rising to his feet and placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Let me show you to your room."
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A bit shocking about Hermione, I know. Please don't yell at me about it just yet. Her story will be explained a
little more in later chapters, so wait to flame me until then ;) . Until next week!