I knew the moment I first kissed him, that he would condemn me, that I would drag myself through broken glass for him. I just was not sure if he would stay long enough to pull the jagged pieces out.
I never imagined that instead, he would push the...
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Albus Dumbledore looked like absolute shit.
His hair had greyed entirely, and the white matched the complexion of his pale skin. There were dark blue circles etched under his eyes, an obvious sign that he was not getting rest. Whatever my actions had caused had not been kind to the ageing man. It was strange to see him in that light. I had always seen him as a wizard who could defeat anything life could ever throw his way— even death. But now, as my eyes swept over him, I realised just how mortal he was. Yet despite his decaying soul, I could not find an ounce of pity to spare for him.
"Ah, Miss Laurent. You are here." His voice was gruff as he turned to address me with those ever-observant eyes. They no longer held the shine they once used to have, and for some bizarre reason, I found a strange comfort in the shadows swimming behind his orbs.
"Clearly." I could not help but snark. "You look on the verge of crossing to the other side, sir. Shall I summon you a chair?"
"Arwen." Aevuma scolded in a warning tone, silently telling me to behave. I found myself thinking back on her words from yesterday when she had cautioned me against Dumbledore.
My mind drifted back to the time when we had once talked in Hogwarts when I was naive enough to think Dumbledore would help me solve my problems, and I recalled how he had very subtly warned me.
"You shall stop it, Miss Laurent." He had said. "Thinking about the life that you will never live."
Perhaps he had known from the start that my sister was beyond saving. Or perhaps he had never planned to give any kind of cure, and it all had been a cruel plot to coax me into doing his bidding. I crossed the distance in the room until I stood in front of the large oval table, smiling falsely. "Just trying to be courteous. This is my manor after all."
He opened his mouth to retort, but I beat him to it.
"Let me make this clear. I am not willing to participate in anything unless you save Estelliel." I cut him off curtly. "So, do you have the cure or not?"
The old man's gaze did not waver from mine as he regarded me in silence. He was conflicted about something as if he was debating his options before carefully handpicking his words. "You must understand, Miss Laurent, that this curse has passed down your family for generations. It is powerful, and one of its kind." He began, folding his hands in front of him. "I have found a way to slow its effects for a period of time, however, creating a cure that will fully cease its effects is a matter that takes time."
I tilted my head to the side in a manner Tom always used to do, imploring him to continue.
"If you wish, we may attempt the spell that will temporarily relieve her of her condition. As for the permanent cure, I must ask you to give me more time."
