Willow

Part 2

26th May 1894:

Our time together over the next few months is very productive. I never knew how much help a second opinion would be: When I'm stuck, he finds a solution, when I make mistakes, he doesn't haste in telling me, when I can't stay awake he fetches me coffee, and when I can't wake up he pours cold water over me.

But at the moment he is being difficult.

"I know you don't like hearing this, Edmund, but you're wrong." He tells me from the other side of my office, as I pace between the window and the opposite wall. "The worst thing any human could do, is to take a life."

Usually our differences are a great help, all of the things that limit me aren't a problem to him at all, he can find out of the box solutions that make the whole process easier. We have already figured out that to live past death, you would need to split your soul, and to split one's soul they must do the most evil deed, but we can't seem to get any further than that.

I stop and look at him, "David, people die everyday; surely the most evil thing isn't something that happens so often?"

"No you're not listening," his voice is soft, almost pleading, "murder is different from just death, it is surely the worst deed."

Shaking my head I smile at him. "You contradict yourself - you tell me that nature is pure and great."

"And?"

"Nature kills people! Earthquakes, tsunamis, illness, famine, age; how can you say nature is pure when it has murdered more than all human societies combined?"

"You make a good point, but it has to be murder... can you think of a more evil deed?"

"Yes."

Surprised he asks, "Really, what?"

I take a breath; in, and out. "Love."

"Love? How can love be the worst deed, when it is surely the best?"

"The longing, the insecurity, the unbearable emptiness, to love someone will never end well, and is so much more painful than death."

"Edmund..." He takes a step forward. "Are you in love?"

I can't breathe, I'm choking on this, this situation is killing me. I can't tell him. Never.

Maybe?

"Professor?" A small voice behind me. "Professor Abbot?"

I turn around to see Dumbledore. Again. This kid is going to be the death of me.

"H-have you marked my essay yet?"

After a long, drawn out sigh, I point at the desk. "It's on there," I murmur, making sure to give him my best glare. I can feel Davie silently judging the back of my head.

"T-thank you si-sir." He hurries over to the desk, picks up a piece of parchment and leaves without another seconds hesitation.

"I think I'd better get going, I have a class in 20 minutes and I need to prepare for it," Davie says to me, taking the willow sapling from the windowsill where it has been catching the sunlight and spelling it into the little box he puts it in when traveling. He's really taken Trelawneys advice to heart.

"Ok, I'll see you soon."

I sit at the window and watch until he walks out onto the grounds and over to the greenhouse. And I watch him some more, falling into a little trance as I sit alone, lost in thought.

I am thrust back into reality when I hear a knock at my office door. "I'll be there in a second!" I shout, rushing to my desk to clear off the notes me and Davie wrote: very dark magic that we would be in so much trouble for.