The Girl Who Saw Tomorrow II » Harry Potter

2.25 | A Paradoxical Present

The silver instruments upon the spindly table whizzed and puffed as usual, but theirs was not the only noise in the Headmaster's study. The portraits on the walls were arguing, the previous Heads of Hogwarts once again in a disagreement.

"Raven!" one exclaims. He was rather short and bald, trembling in his seat. "Raven! You know what-!"

"No, we don't know, Averred!" says a woman indignantly. Her frame was quite small and far up the wall. She was dressed in velvety purple robes and was holding a staff. "You can't make assumptions just because she made a bird-friend!"

"Does it matter?!" snaps a young warlock from the side. This one seemed to be a part of a royal court, perhaps a knight in his days. "We knew what she could come across on her travels and it looks like we were right! My suggestion is that the threat should be eliminated immediately!"

There were several gasps from all around, then all of them spoke up at once:

"That won't solve it, there's two-"

"Send them both away-"

"Oh get your wand out of your arse-"

"We can't do anything, we're just paintings..."

"Exactly! And she's Merlin's heir-!"

"But she's not just-"

"Enough!"

Dilys Derwent's sharp tone cut through the argument, and all the Heads quietened down slowly. The witch looked around at them, frowning deeply before looking down at the man on the desk.

"Albus?" says Dilys kindly. "You haven't said anything."

Albus Dumbledore was assessing his adjoined fingers with great interest. His right hand, which was dead and blackened, no longer seemed to provoke a pitiful look from him as it did when he was first injured. Instead he continued to look at them almost as if he didn't see them.

While it had been a few hours since Harry and Margaret left, Dumbledore had not interrupted the debate that had broken out between the previous Heads of Hogwarts. However, just because Dumbledore didn't speak, it didn't mean that he had nothing on his clever mind.

Only rarely would Dumbledore's eye miss something, whether it was a cunning movement of an opponent's wand or something as simple as a look crossing someone's face. Everyone had their telltales. Even Margaret Xenakis.

It was different, of course. Margaret was quite accomplished at Occlumency and she was rather apt at keeping a blank face. Dumbledore respected that. But it didn't mean that the mask never slipped. It did – it had – mere hours ago in that very seat in front of him.

Dumbledore had taken Harry and Margaret down Bob Ogden's memory lane that was over seventy years old. In that, he intended to introduce them both to Lord Voldemort's parents – the abused and miserable Merope Gaunt and the rich and handsome Tom Riddle Sr.

It was, as Dumbledore had expected, a successful lesson. Harry Potter had a knack for solving puzzles. Margaret's reaction, on the other hand, was where the lesson went amiss.

It was when they were speaking about how exactly did Merope Gaunt and Tom Riddle Sr. came to be infatuated with each other.

"They got married?" asks Harry incredulously. It was quite unimaginable for two such unlikely people to fall in love.

"I think you are forgetting, Harry, that Merope was a witch," says Dumbledore. "While she was being terrorized by her father and brother, her magical powers did not appear to their best advantage. However, once Marvolo and Morfin were in Azkaban, and Merope was alone and free for the first time in her life, then I'm sure, she was able to give up full restraints on her abilities and plot her escape. Can you think of any way Merope could've used to make Tom Riddle forget his Muggle companion, and fall in love with her instead?"