you raise me up || harry potter

chapter 66

»»————-　song:　————-««

you are loved

★ josh groban ★

❝ don't give up
because you want to be heard
if silence keeps you, i...
i will break it for you

everybody wants to be understood 

well, i can hear you.❞

♢ ♢ ♢

preview:

Snape was too late. He knew, when he saw on the map Harry and Dumbledore already in the office. He knew which decision Harry had made, knew how damn selfless that boy was, how little self-preservation he had. Still he flew down corridors, up stairs, because what else could he do?

He had to talk to Harry. He had to change his mind, Snape thought as entered the stairwell to Dumbledore's office. He'd do anything to prevent Harry from returning to that place. He'd yell, he'd scold, he'd plead if he had to. He'd—

He stopped, foot freezing above the first step.

Harry was slowly making his way down the spiral staircase, head down, one hand trailing against the wall. Snape's heart thudded in his chest. 

"Harry," he said. "You—"

Harry looked up, stopping where he stood ten steps above the bottom of the stairs. He stared down at Snape from where he stood, and Snape stared up at him. Harry looked impossibly small.

"What did the headmaster say to you?" Snape asked, almost pleadingly. And what did you say?

There was a silence. A sliver of light shone through the window and fell upon Harry's eyes, illuminating them a brilliant green. 

And Snape held his breath.

♢ ♢ ♢

"Lemon drop?" Dumbledore asked as he gestured for Harry to sit down.

"No thanks," Harry said, and surprised himself at his lack of a stutter. 

If Dumbledore was surprised at all, he didn't show it. He smoothly sat down and regarded Harry seriously over his half-moon spectacles.

Harry, now significantly more nervous than he had been ten seconds ago, tried not to shift in his seat. "Am I... in trouble?" he asked tentatively, then mentally slapped himself in the face. What a non-Slytherin thing to say. If he was in trouble, that wasn't the best thing to open with.

"Nothing of the sort," Dumbledore said, the gravity of his voice unchanging. "I wish to talk to you of a serious matter."

"Okay..." Harry said, confused.

"About your home situation," Dumbledore said. 

A rock dropped into Harry's stomach.

"I understand that it has been less than ideal," Dumbledore said, and his tone was gentle now. "Year after year, I watch as everyone leaves for home, excited to go home. And then I see you, reluctant, and I ask myself: what am I to do?"

"I know your life has not been the easiest," Dumbledore said. "Petunia may have taken you grudgingly, furiously, unwillingly, bitterly, yet still she took you, and in doing so, she sealed the charm I placed upon you. Your mother's sacrifice made the bond of blood the strongest shield I could give you."