Obliviate My Choices {Book 4}

4. Back to the Burrow

Dumbledore ended up taking Harry and I to see some weird old guy called Slughorn, who used to be a teacher at Hogwarts. He was very weird to be honest. He seemed to only like former students because of talents they had, and liked taking advantage of rewards from them.

He seemed to really like our mother, constantly reminding us of how wonderful she was despite being a muggle born. But it got even more weird when I brought up Mark and Jenna, wondering if he ever knew them.

"Oh Mark Oswin, oh such a strange child..." Slughorn had said. "He was a Hufflepuff, but the oddest one I'd came across. He was so reserved and well-behaved, but there was a deep anger in him. I suppose all his temper tantrums was why he dropped out of school to be with that poor girl..."

"What was wrong with Jenna?" I had asked defensivley. 

Slughorn had looked uncomfortable. "Well what the Parkinson's did to her... was unimaginable..."

Before I could ask anymore, Dumbledore had appeared with knitting patterns saying we had to leave--but not before Slughorn agreed to return to Hogwarts.

I kept over-thinking what Slughorn said as we left the house. I knew that Jenna was related to the Parkinson's, and that she was a squib. But never did she touch upon her childhood.... What had happened to her?

Harry nudged my side, and the trance of my thoughts were broken, and I realised Dumbledore was speaking to us

"--He used to handpick favorites at Hogwarts, sometimes for their ambition or their brains, sometimes for their charm or their talent, and he had an uncanny knack for choosing those who would go on to become outstanding in their various fields. Horace formed a kind of club of his favorites with himself at the center, making introductions, forging useful contacts between members, and always reaping some kind of benefit in return, whether a free box of his favorite crystallized pineapple or the chance to recommend the next junior member of the Goblin liaison Office."

I thought of a snake charmer controlling the snake to do what they wanted of it, smiling when it listened.

"I tell you all this," Dumbledore continued, "not to turn you against Horace--or, as we must now call him, Professor Slughorn--but to put you on your guard. He will undoubtedly try to collect you both. You two would be the jewels of his collection; 'the Boy Who Lived' and 'the Girl who Survived'... or, as they call you these days, 'the Chosen Ones."

No one can lose or triumph without her sound decision... Those terrifying words made my stomach turn, and made me fear what was to come in following months and years.

Dumbledore had stopped walking, level with the church they had passed earlier.

"This will do. If you will both grasp my arms."

When the pressure of apparation went away in a flash, I found we were in a lane leading towards the Burrow--one of my favourite places in the world. 

"If you both don't mind," said Dumbledore, as we passed through the gate, "I'd like a few words in private. Perhaps in here?"

Dumbledore pointed toward a shed where the Weasleys kept their broomsticks. We crammed inside, and once I was sat on a plantpot and Dumbledore lit his wand, he began talking.

"I'd just like to say how proud I am with how the two of you are coping after everything that happened at the Ministry. I believe Sirius would be proud."

I thought of wanting to erase my memories and relying on a piece of fabric to feel close to Sirius, and knew at once he wouldn't be proud. If I wasn't proud of how I'd acted this summer, why would Sirius?

"It was cruel," said Dumbledore softly, "that you both had such a short time together with Sirius. It was a brutal ending to what should have been a long and happy relationship."