The Enemy of my Enemy

The Memory, Part II

Teddie paused outside of Dumbledore's office. She had just left Professor Snape's office in the dungeons and was a few minutes late to her lesson with the Headmaster and Harry. She raised her hand, poised to knock the door when she heard Harry's voice from inside.

"Why him?" he had asked. "Why not Madam Pomfrey?"

"Impertinent," said a soft voice. It was one that Teddie didn't not recognise. "I would not have permitted a student to question the way Hogwarts operated in my day."

"Yes, thank you, Phineas," said Dumbledore. "Professor Snape knows much more about the Dark Arts than Madam Pomfrey, Harry. Anyway, the St Mungo's staff are sending me hourly reports, and I am hopeful that Miss Parkinson will make a full recovery in time."

"Where were you this weekend, sir?" Harry asked.

"I would rather not say just now," said Dumbledore. "However, I shall tell you in due course."

"You will?"

"Yes, I expect so," said Dumbledore

"Sir," said Harry. He sounded tentative, like he was pushing enough boundaries as it was. "I met Mundungus in Hogsmeade."

Teddie furrowed her brow. Who was Mundungus and why did Harry feel the need to mention him to Dumbledore.

"Ah, yes, I am already aware that Mundungus has been treating your inheritance with light-fingered contempt," said Dumbledore. "He has gone to ground since you accosted him outside the Three Broomsticks; he dreads facing me. However, rest assured that he will not be making away with any more of Sirius's old possessions."

"That mangy old half-blood has been stealing Black heirlooms?" snarled the voice from before. Teddie couldn't help but wonder if there was another person in the room, of course, she knew there were portraits, but could it really have been one of them that was speaking so angrily?

The office feel silent for a few minutes, and then Harry spoke again. "Sir, did Professor McGonagall tell you what I told her after Parkinson got hurt? About Draco Malfoy?"

Teddie couldn't help but roll her eyes. While she trusted Harry entirely, she didn't understand his fascination with Malfoy. As if anything Draco did was beneficial to anyone but himself.

"She told me of your suspicions, yes," said Dumbledore.

"And do you -?"

"I shall take all appropriate measures to investigate anyone who might have had a hand in Miss Parkinson's accident," said Dumbledore.

Something inside Teddie snapped and, without knocking, her barged into the room, her body heating up as her temper flared.

"Accident?" Teddie echoed, her eyes narrowed at the Headmaster. "Accident? What happened to Pansy was not an accident!"

Harry stared, wide-eyed and slack jawed at Teddie, while Dumbledore merely looked complacent and calm as she stomped up to his desk.

"Someone tried to get her to smuggle a highly dangerous dark object into the school, and in the process almost murdered her!"

Teddie could've sworn she saw a faint smile tug at Dumbledore's lips as she finished. But, instead, he merely bowed his head, and apologised.

"What concerns me the most tonight," Dumbledore added. "Is our lesson. Shall we?" he produced a small vial with a silvery liquid inside from his desk drawer. "You will remember, I am sure, that we left the take of Lord Voldemort's beginnings at the point where the handsome Muggle, Tom Riddle, had abandoned his wife, Merope, and returned to his family home in Little Hangleton. Merope was left alone in London, expecting the baby who would one day become Lord Voldemort."