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Take my Hand

As Harry made his way through the halls, he couldn’t help but feel nostalgic. It felt so bloody good to be back! So many things had happened to him since. So much had changed. People had come and gone from his life, some forever, never to return. And yet here it stood, as grand and impressive as it had been on that day in September so many years ago. It had survived, the stone walls as strong as they had always been, the same, yet not. Something was missing; someone was missing. Harry stopped at the foot of the marble staircase and listened. It was not supposed to be this quiet. The air should be filled with the sounds that children make on their way to and from class. Where were the laughter and the shouts of discord as rivals vied? This was the sound of late August. In two weeks time, all would be as it should. Hogwarts would come to life once again. Harry’s gaze travelled upward and stopped at the first landing. If he closed his eyes, he could still see him. There he stood, as he had so many times before, peering down over the top of his spectacles, eyes twinkling, a broad smile on his thin lips. If he concentrated hard enough, Harry could even hear his voice welcoming him heartily. The memories were still vivid, even after so much time. He opened his eyes with a sigh. Of course, Dumbledore was not there. Dead and buried some five years now. Harry shook off the cloak of sadness that enveloped him and he started up the stairs.

“Jelly Babies!” said Harry. He bounded up the stairs as soon as the gargoyle had moved aside, knocking loudly on the large wooden door at the top.

“Come in!” called a voice.

Harry entered the office and broke into a wide grin. “Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall, or perhaps I should say Headmistress?”

“Harry! How lovely to see you!” she cried. The usually staid, reserved woman arose and pulled Harry into a hug. “Professor will do, Harry. How have you been?”

“I am fine, thank you. Yourself?”

“Considering my age, quite well. Please, have a seat. Would you care for a cup of tea?”

“Yes, please. That would be most welcome.” As Professor McGonagall poured the tea, Harry continued, “It feels rather strange to be here. I haven’t been in this office since…well, you know.”

“I do imagine it would. It took us all some getting used to it.”

Harry looked around him and said, “You haven’t changed this room much. I can see the odd bits and bobs here and there, but on the whole, it’s exactly the same.” Harry grinned and added, “You still use a sweet for a password.”

Minerva smiled. “It only seemed fitting. You remember what a sweet tooth Albus had.”

Before Harry could say another word, a voice spoke behind him. “Ah yes, I must say that I miss them terribly.”

“Professor Dumbledore!” Harry said, a huge grin lighting up his face. “I had forgotten that you would be here. Um, I mean that your portrait would be. I…I…what I’m trying to say is…” The large lump in Harry’s throat prevented him from speaking further.

“I know, Harry, I know. It is good to see you, too. Please, don’t let me interrupt you further. Please continue, Minerva.”

“Thank you, Albus. Shall we get down to business? I am dying to know – have you decided to accept my offer, Harry?”

Harry took a sip of tea and paused before speaking. “I have been wrestling with this ever since I received your owl. Going back and forth, yes and no - been going spare over it, actually.”

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