Mischief Managed

29: Rewind

Where in the bloody hell is any justice?

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"Miss Convelo," said Dumbledore. He adjusted his half-moon glasses on his nose. "I must say, I've been expecting you."

Though Dumbledore's tone hadn't been vaguely threatening, I shivered. He was right- I'd been back at Hogwarts for exactly two days, and, surprisingly, most things had returned to normal. Even this morning's breakfast had been minimally awkward. Yes, several of the Gryffindors had been watching me with that tell-tale stare: the kind where they want to express pity, but don't know how. But Sirius, James, Remus, and Peter had made their typical jokes and James' and Sirius' banter made me smile. Among my friends, I felt happy again.

Except...a few weeks ago, I'd had an idea. It was probably foolish, dangerous, and beyond all hope of succeeding. For those reasons, I hadn't confessed it to anyone.

Yet, somehow, Dumbledore seemed to know.

As if sensing my discomfort, he smiled kindly at me and nodded his head the tiniest bit.

Go ahead, he was saying.

"Yes...I...," I bit my lip and cringed as I tasted blood. "I wanted to learn about Voldemort."

Dumbledore was quiet for a moment. My words seemed to echo throughout the room. Morning sunlight trickled through the tall glass windows behind his desk, drawing yellow streaks on the wooden table.

Then he folded his hands in his lap and nodded again as if this was something he'd expected.

"Yes, of course you would. What do you wish to know, Miss Convelo?"

I tried to collect my thoughts, and to my surprise, I realized my hands had started to tremble.

"H-How is he so powerful? Why are so many people following him?"

Dumbledore sighed and shifted in his chair. He pushed his glasses to his nose and spoke without his gaze breaking mine. "Voldemort is a very Dark Wizard."

I opened my mouth to protest- I already knew this- but he continued before I could get the words out.

"He is extremely skilled in Dark Magic, and he is also extremely persuasive. So persuasive that few recognized how dangerous he was, and several have joined his side because they believe he is powerful enough to succeed."

"Succeed in what, exactly?" Chills rose up my spine.

"Voldemort and his followers believe firmly in the superiority of pure-blooded wizards over all other beings," he said calmly. "In their eyes, purebloods are better than anyone with a drop of Muggle blood or any creature that is not entirely human. His followers share this belief, and most follow him to carry out that social order in practice."

"So that's why..." My voice trailed off. My hands shook more severely. I pressed them firmly beneath my seat.

Dumbledore spoke more gently now.

"Yes, that is why your parents and other Muggles and wizards who associate with them have been targeted."

I was quiet for a moment. Everything Dumbledore said made sense, I just couldn't understand how anyone could believe what Voldemort and the Death Eaters did. How could they be convinced that one person's parents made them better than another?

"I don't...understand. Is Voldemort crazy?"

Dumbledore laughed genuinely. Smiling, he said, "No, no he is not."

"But then-"

He held up a hand. "Miss Convelo, Lord Voldemort is as sane as you or I. He has simply been the victim of bad choices then the maker of such choices himself."