The Alpha Dynasty (Sequel to MARKED FOR DESTINY) (Book 2 of 2)

70. Words Of Comfort

After the meeting, Harry had gone to each of the teachers individually, trying to ease their sadness, and even though it felt like his own heart was being torn in two, he wanted to be there for all of them.  He thought he would start outside, and so his first stop was at Hagrid's Hut.

The memories of Hagrid trying to hatch a dragon's egg in his first year came to him, and then the time that they had saved Buckbeak, and of course the instance where his house had been set alight that night of the war by death eaters.  He treasured all of them.  He found the man sitting outside, behind his house, with his head buried in his hands, and Fang was lying at his feet.  He sat down next to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder.  

It wasn't always necessary to voice what you were feeling, silence was indeed a stable and welcoming companion sometimes, and this was definitely one of those times.  Harry stayed silent, with his hand on Hagrid, and the giant's shakes became less, and the sobs more and more quiet.  Fang would whimper at his feet, somehow knowing that his owner and keeper was very sad.  Harry tried to find words to comfort him, but he had none.  Draco would know what to say at a time like this.  

Hagrid faced him with a swollen puffy face, and said that he can't believe it.  So many wonderful years, he just couldn't believe, would never have thought that Dumbledore was tired.  He always seemed so energetic, and Harry replied softly, "I know Hagrid.  It seems unreal, but we have to be there for each other, and respect his decision, all right?", and as difficult as it was for himself, he knew that Hagrid would do just that.  

Professor Sprout was busy potting plants in her greenhouse, so aggressively that Harry had to place his hands over hers, just to stop her from causing harm to herself or to them.  She loved all plant life, and to take her frustrations out on them, wasn't fair.  When he did that, she fell into his arms with a silent sob, stating that she would not accept it.  Why him, when all he had done for their world was good.  Why couldn't it be anyone else, someone they didn't know.  To which Harry replied, "I would rather bear the heartbreak than have anyone else do it Professor.  I know it's not easy, but we'll be okay", and with a final hug, he left her, telling her that he would visit soon and, "Please go and see Hagrid, perhaps he can help you with the planting", he suggested.

Fillius Flitwick might be a small man, but he had a big heart.  Swollen though it was, since the moment from hearing what he had, he wanted to throw things.  Wingardium Leviosa could kiss his royal backside, as far as he was concerned.  Throwing objects wouldn't change the outcome, but it would sure as hell make him feel better.  And so, he picked up a flower vase that was on his table in his classroom, and chucked it against the wall.  Only to see Harry standing there, with understanding on his face.  

"Mr Potter", he greeted.  "You might want to move out of the way", he said and picked up another object to throw.  Which he did, but Harry had the grace to catch it one handed, enter the classroom and close the door.  

"Throw all you want Professor, I'm going to stay until you stop", he said in a kind voice, and then remembered the way that Draco had thrown things in a similar tantrum.  When he said those words, the Professor threw the item on the floor, and breathing heavily, just sat down in a heap on the floor.  Not very subtle behavior of a school teacher, but right now he didn't give a damn.

And then he burst into tears.  Harry in full understanding of those emotions, went and sat with him, and gave him something else to focus on.  "Why don't you get together with all the other teachers, and suggest a praise jar.  Have each one write the one thing that they admire the most about Dumbledore, and then we can all read them when the time is right", he asked.

Flitwick looked at him in admiration, nodded and said he would do this.  He knew that when Harry had said - the time is right - he meant at the funeral, which of course made him burst into fresh tears, that had Harry rubbing his back, and offering small words of comfort.

Madam Pince was not an easy person to get along with.  Harry knew this the moment he stepped foot into Hogwarts.  It also seemed that she was not an emotional one.  She was arranging books back into their shelves, using magic.  He stood at the door, watching them glide across the room, and find their rightful spot, and snuggle in as if they were finally home.  She must have heard him, because she turned, and without skipping a beat, asked if he were there to borrow a book.  He shook his head, walked up to her and took her in his arms.

She just stood there, as if she were a statue.  "It's okay to cry Madam Pince", he said.  "Merlin knows I'm going to", and when he said those words, she did.  She had tried to keep her composure, but who was she kidding.  She knew that the death of Dumbledore would have the whole world in tears, and she wasn't that heartless.  But crying made it all seem real, when she didn't want to believe it in the first place.  He held her for a while longer, and said perhaps she should go and have some tea with Professor Flitwick.

Professor Trelawney, who had given herself over to sherry shortly before the war, before she was fired by Umbridge had come a long way since then.  She was sitting in her classroom, at one of the student's tables.  Staring into a crystal ball.  Stirring a cup of tea with vigor.  Staring and stirring, stirring and staring.  As if she could call forth this terrible truth to be a lie.  As if she would be the one to change the outcome of Albus Dumbledore.  

Refusal to believe what she had been told would follow her around until the day of his funeral.  She could see a reflection in the crystal ball, and turned around.  "Harry my boy", she said, using the same words that Dumbledore was famous for.  "Tea?", she offered.  Harry smiled and said no thank you.  "I came to see how you were doing after the meeting", he said softly.  

She smiled at him and said she was having tea and waiting for a sign in her ball.  "Being a seer is a wonderful thing Harry, you are gifted with knowing things that others do not", she claimed.  "I do not believe that Albus is going anywhere", she said with a laugh.  

So, denial then, thought Harry.  He wasn't going to burst her bubble right now, if she was happy to do this right now, he wasn't going to be the one to stop her.  Thanking her for the offer of tea, he left and went to make a final call to his favorite Hogwarts healer, Madam Pomfrey.

He found her sniffing with a tissue in her hand.  She was facing the windows, looking out at the Black Lake with her arms crossed against her chest.  He cleared his throat and she turned to see who was there.  "Why, Mr Potter, is there something you need?", she asked.

"No thank you Ma'am", he answered.  "What are you looking at?" he asked.  She faced the window again, and simply said, "If what Albus said is true, I think he would love that spot just there, facing the school", and she pointed towards a little island of sorts, that had some trees around the edges.  

Harry smiled and said, 'Perhaps you are right".  She turned back and gave him a weak smile, and then went back to her office and started on some filing.  A woman who had seen pain, abuse, neglect, and often death, and it still wasn't easy.  It would never be easy, because how do you bury and say goodbye to someone who has always been there for you.  Where do you pick up the pieces and start over?

"Madam Pomfrey, I was wondering if you could maybe help Professor Trelawney, she seems to need some healing", he said.  She looked up from her paperwork, straightened her clothes out and said she would go to her immediately.  And with that, she left the hospital wing.

Harry himself turned to look at the spot that she had shown him, and thought yes.  It seemed to fit somehow, that Dumbledore would always be a part of Hogwarts, and a part of their lives.  Sighing deeply, still trying to swallow his own tears, he left for home.

He too, needed words of comfort.