Foresaken (Old, being rewrote)

Forsakened of Me

The old man standing in front of him wasn't Dumbledore, not in the slightest of sense. There was neither a second man in eccentric robes following behind, that became clear once the elder let the door click shut behind him. The man had faded white hair that trailed down his shoulders, a short but cleanly cut beard that barely dribbled down the chin, with invitingly bright brown eyes with rounded spectacles sitting on the man's long skinny nose. Armando Dippet, Harry assumed casting a charming smile at the man, whose face didn't tell much of anything.

"Greetings, sir, you must be from Hogwarts," Harry greeted, trying to butter the man up with an added dip of the head, signalling respect.

"Yes, my name is Armando Dippet," His voice seemed fresh from the grave, a deeply troubling rasp in his voice, "I apologize, but I am a bit sick today, Mr. Peverell, but I would like to personally invite you to my school," Harry watched as the elder twisted his hand inside large draping sleeves of his standard robes and pulled a familiar letter, "I read on your transcript that you have been home schooled for all of your needed for your education years, and should be going into your fifth year."

"Yes, Sir," Harry answered respectfully, a charming smile on his face as he eagerly eyed the letter, that had his name on it with that familiar Hogwarts stamp.

"Except that is not the only reason I wanted to speak with you," Dippet's voice was solemn but wise, eyes neutrally fixing on Harry, who was intimidated by the criticality of the gaze, "With recent events with your unfortunate involvement with Grindelwald, I want to grant you protection at Hogwarts. Over the years, we have sent you numerous letters asking if you would like to join, but you always declined under the pretense of being fine on your own, only things have changed. I would like feeling clear in mind thinking that a young man like you is safely hidden within the walls of Hogwarts. Our wards are extensive and powerful, any sort of assassination attempt would be nearly impossible without some kind of warning. You would be safe, and get a taste of going to a real school."

Harry really didn't need convincing, he was happily going to take that letter, "I accept your invitation to Hogwarts, sounds like a deal worth taking."

"Nice to hear," Dippet's entire posture softened, he looked much more relaxed and calm, "I can take you to the school now, you can be sorted at dinner. In the meantime, I would like to discuss which classes you would like to take. Hogwarts has a very wide berth for classes and curriculum, we try to cater to students of all interests and Magics."
"Sounds like a plan," Harry gladly chirped, hopping off the bed with his dagger clinched in his hand that he hid in the foldes of his hospital gown. As much as Harry wanted something else to wear, at the moment he could probably wait.

"Hold on M'boy," Dippet chuckled mirthfully, not noticing how Harry stiffened suddenly, remembering how many times he heard that word come out of Dumbledore's mouth. M'boy, "Here's your Hogwarts letter, you don't really need it at the moment but let's get a move on. Let's try to make your first day of school tomorrow, huh?"

"Yeah but uh," Harry actually decides he really doesn't want to walk into Hogwarts looking fresh from the hospital. Which, well, he is but they don't need to know that, "Could I possibly get a chance with different clothes?"

"Oh my, I didn't really think of that," Dippet frowned thoughtfully a crease forming between his brows before coming up with an idea, "Have you checked with a nurse to see if they salvaged your clothes? If not, I'll happily transfigure you some. They won't be of good quality, mind you, but would be enough for the time being."

"No, I never did check with anyone," Harry muttered, glancing pass Dippet and to the door wondering how long it would take. Everything here was surprisingly quick, so asking for his clothes probably wouldn't take five hours or something ridiculous, "I guess we should check."