Beautiful World ~ 𝑫𝑹𝑨𝑹𝑹𝒀

Chapter 19

'Good afternoon, Harry.'

He nodded a bit, feeling nervous. 'I was told you wanted to see me, headmaster?'

'I did. I understand today is your second session with Sirius?' Dumbledore smiled at him and motioned for him to be seated.

Dropping into a chair, Harry said, 'Yes. Actually, he's probably waiting for me now...' he trailed off hopefully.

'I told him you would be a little late today, don't worry.' Dumbledore studied Harry for a moment and then said, 'I called you here because I wished to discuss something with you. Do you know why you've got that scar on your forehead?'

'Voldemort tried to kill me,' Harry said, frowning. He didn't know if he could handle another one of Dumbledore's discussions and could only wonder what confession he was about to hear this time.

'Yes, but the scar was because you started to die. That's how we know your mother's spell wasn't complete. You started to die, just a little bit, and ...'

'I started to die? Part of me died?' Harry cried.

'Not enough of you to matter, Harry, just enough to give you the scar. Then your mother, who was already dead, used her last thought before she drifted off to the Other World to enact the spell.'

'The half spell,' Harry corrected. 'She didn't do it right.'

'Had she not cast the spell at all, you wouldn't be here even now.' It was the closest Dumbledore had ever come to being abrupt with him, and Harry was stunned. 'I understand that you're scared and I understand that this is hard to accept, but we are doing the best we can, Harry. As did your mother. If it weren't for her, you would have died a baby. Sixteen years is surely better than only one.' His voice was gentler now. 'It does no honour to your mother's memory, to dwell on what she was unable to give you rather than being thankful for what she did give you.'

'I'm going to die in a month and you want me to be thankful?'

'I want you to be thankful that because of your mother, you have lived for nearly sixteen years. Do not give up hope, Harry, because even your mother, as she died, still had it. You owe her that much at least.'

His eyes were stinging and Harry felt the juvenile need to lash out at something, anything, because he was feeling powerless, and underneath it all, suddenly guilty. 'What is this?' he said spitefully. 'Last week's session with Sirius didn't go well enough so you thought this week you'd call me in here first to loosen me up a bit so I'd talk? So I'd cry? Do you want me to cry? Maybe this whole thing is just some stupid... stupid...' His voice cracked, but he was not going to cry. 'Stupid game to make me cry.'

'I don't play games that make people cry,' Dumbledore said very quietly. 'I'm just trying to make you understand.'

'Understand what?'

'That you've been given a gift. A very valuable gift.'

'And now it's being taken away,' Harry said, sounding sulky even to his own ears.

Dumbledore just watched him solemnly until Harry felt very small. He squirmed and said quietly, 'I'd like to go see Sirius now.' He swallowed heavily and felt like he was bleeding and just couldn't tell from where.

'Of course. He's waiting for you in his room.'

He nodded and walked blindly from the office, feet taking him instinctively to Sirius' room. Knocking, he waited a second and then walked in, sitting woodenly in an armchair. Sirius, who'd been sitting in the other chair reading a book, looked up at him and smiled a bit.

'I didn't know how long you'd be in with Dumbledore,' he said.

Harry wasn't quite listening. He was breathing quickly, short little bursts of panicky air, and his eyes flicked around the room nervously, as if he were afraid to rest them in any one place too long because if they weren't moving, they'd be welling up with tears. 'I,' he whimpered, and that one syllable burned. He gave up on the rest of the sentence, didn't really know what he'd been trying to say anyway.