Not Again//Harry Potter [2]

29

"Sit down, Autumn, Harry," Dumbledore said.

"First of all, Harry, I want to thank you," said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling again. "You both must have shown me real loyalty down in the Chamber. Nothing but that could have called Fawkes to you."

He stroked the phoenix, which had fluttered down onto his knee. Autumn looked down at the floor awkwardly.

"And so you met Tom Riddle," said Dumbledore thoughtfully. "I imagine he was most interested in you, Harry."

"Professor Dumbledore. . . Riddle said I'm like him. Strange likenesses, he said. . ."

"Did he, now?" said Dumbledore, looking thoughtfully at Harry from under his thick silver eyebrows. "And what do you think, Harry?"

"I don't think I'm like him!" said Harry, more loudly than he'd intended. "I mean, I'm-I'm in Gryffindor, I'm. . ."

Autumn wanted nothing more than to comfort Harry.

"Professor," Harry started again after a moment. "The Sorting Hat told me I'd -- I'd have done well in Slytherin. Everyone thought I was Slytherin's heir for a while. . . because I can speak Parseltongue. Because we both can."

"You can speak Parseltongue, Harry," said Dumbledore calmly, "because Lord Voldemort, who is the last remaining descendant of Salazar Slytherin, can speak Parseltongue. Unless I'm much mistaken, he transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you that scar. Not something he intended to do, I'm sure. . ."

"Voldemort put a bit of himself in me?" Harry said, thunderstruck.

"It certainly seems so."

"So I should be in Slytherin," Harry said, looking desperately into Dumbledore's face. "The Sorting Hat could see Slytherin's power in me, and it-"

"Put you in Gryffindor," said Dumbledore calmly. "Listen to me, Harry. You happen to have many qualities Salazar Slytherin prized in his hand-picked students. His own very rare gift, Parseltongue, resourcefulness, determination, a certain disregard for rules," he added, his mustache quivering. "Yet the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor. You know why that was. Think."

"It only put me in Gryffindor," said Harry in a defeated voice, "because I asked not to go in Slytherin."

"Exactly," said Dumbledore, beaming once more. "Which makes you very different from Tom Riddle. It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities." Harry sat motionless in his chair, stunned. "If you want proof, Harry, that you belong in Gryffindor, I suggest you look more closely at this."

Dumbledore reached across to Professor McGonagall's desk, picked up the blood-stained silver sword, and handed it to Harry. Autumn looked at the sword, and saw a name just below the hilt.

Godric Gryffindor.

"Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of the hat, Harry," said Dumbledore simply.

After a moment of silence, Autumn spoke.

"Professor?"

Dumbledore looked at Autumn. "Yes?"

"Why is it that I'm a Parseltongue? I mean, you said it yourself, I'm not a relative to Slytherin, so why can I speak it?"

"Well, I'd imagine it's the same reason you've got the scar on your forearm: the ring from your great grandfather."

Autumn stared at the ring. "Did you know him? Norace?"

"I've met him on several occasions." Dumbledore said. "How much do you know about him?"

"Not much," Autumn admitted. "Just that he created a bunch of spells."

Dumbledore nodded. "He created the most spells that any wizard's ever done. It takes a vast amount of understanding to create a spell, let alone perform it."

"How come I can't take the ring off?" Autumn asked.

"I'd come to believe things will leave when they're due to. I do believe that it will disappear soon." Dumbledore said.

Then Dumbledore pulled open one of the drawers in Professor McGonagall's desk and took out a quill and a bottle of ink.

"What you need, Harry, is some food and sleep. I suggest you go down to the feast, while I write to Azkaban - we need our gamekeeper back. And I must draft an advertisement for the Daily Prophet, too," he added thoughtfully. "We'll be needing a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. . . Dear me, we do seem to run through them, don't we?"

Harry helped Autumn walk out, but the door suddenly opened; so violently that the door bounced back off the wall. It was Lucius Malfoy, with anger clearly shown on his face. Behind him, heavily wrapped in bandages, was Dobby.

"Good evening, Lucius," said Dumbledore pleasantly.

"So!" he said "You've come back. The governors suspended you, but you still saw fit to return to Hogwarts."

"Well, you see, Lucius," said Dumbledore, smiling, "the other eleven governors contacted me today. It was something like being caught in a hailstorm of owls, to tell the truth. They'd heard that Arthur Weasley's daughter had been killed and wanted me back here at once. They seemed to think I was the best man for the job after all. Very strange tales they told me, too. . . Several of them seemed to think that you had threatened to curse their families if they didn't agree to suspend me in the first place."

"So, have you stopped the attacks yet?" he sneered. "Have you caught the culprit?"

"We have," said Dumbledore, with a smile.

"Well?" said Mr. Malfoy sharply. "Who is it?"

"The same person as last time, Lucius," said Dumbledore. "But this time, Lord Voldemort was acting through somebody else. By means of this diary."

He held up the small black book with the large hole through the center, watching Mr. Malfoy closely. Autumn, however, was watching Dobby. The elf was doing something very odd. His great eyes fixed meaningfully on her, he kept pointing at the diary, then at Mr. Malfoy, and then hitting himself hard on the head with his fist.

Autumn and Harry looked at each other; Lucius gave the diary to Ginny.

"I see. . ." said Mr. Malfoy to Dumbledore.

"A clever plan," said Dumbledore in a level voice, still staring Mr. Malfoy straight in the eye. "Because if Harry and Autumn here," Mr. Malfoy shot them a stare, "and their friend Ron hadn't discovered this book, why, Ginny Weasley might have taken all the blame. No one would ever have been able to prove she hadn't acted of her own free will. . ."

"And imagine," Dumbledore went on, "what might have happened then.. The Weasleys are one of our most prominent pureblood families. Imagine the effect on Arthur Weasley and his Muggle Protection Act, if his own daughter was discovered attacking and killing Muggle-borns. . . Very fortunate the diary was discovered, and Riddle's memories wiped from it. Who knows what the consequences might have been otherwise. . ."

"Very fortunate," he said stiffly, and then he exited.

"Professor?" Harry asked.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Do you mind if we have the book?" Harry asked.