Resorted

chapter Fifty Two

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Wading through a swamp, Harry trudged to Dumbledore's office. Up step after step, away from Draco's warmth, away from the soft but muscly chest he could use as a pillow. Away from the boyfriend he just got back, all for a memory? Well, Harry knew it was more than that, that is was so much more it would help him win the upcoming war. But Harry missed Draco and he wasn't afraid to say so. Just one day without his love almost tore Harry to pieces, can't he have one day of no action? Hasn't he deserved it? Apparently not.

"Erm..." Harry murmured as he stopped in front of the gargoyle. Why did Dumbledore always send him here without the password? "Lemon sherbet... Lemon cheesecake... lemon drop? Lemon me rang pie?" The Gargoyle nodded approvingly. It flapped its wings, claws digging into the already marked stones, moving slowly to the right. Its slow grind stopped to then reveal the door that he walked up, knocking very loudly it echoed through the open hall and Harry could only wonder what the bang sounded on the other side. He entered the door, Dumbledore already standing over the pensive.

"Evening, Harry." Dumbledore greeted which Harry did just the same, "If you don't mind me asking- and tell me if I step over a boundary- are you and Black... for lack of a better term, alright?" Dumbledore's straight (as straight as he can be at 115) posture, his folded hands and inclined head turned to him in full interest.

"Er... yeah, we're fine now- I just need to learn to control my anger." Nervously, Harry chuckled. And when he told that to Draco, he meant it. Because his inability to control his emotions at the age of sixteen was not going to be the downfall of his one and only relationship he is willing to ever have.

"That's good to hear Harry, shall we proceed?"

Harry nodded, stalking towards the pensive, knowing already what to do. Looking at the swirling, mystic white liquid blending well with the opaque blue's Harry was willing to ask what this memory was about. "Today, we will be viewing a memory of Bob Ogden'."
"Who was Bob Ogden?" He cautiously asked. Harry knew it couldn't be anyone historically important, or Hermione would have spoken about him or Professor Binns would have. But then again, Harry can't recall doing anything in History of Magic besides sleeping or playing hand-man or noughts and crosses with Dean and Seamus. Occasionally, with Ron but they did have to teach him that you can only place one X or O at a time, or that the man doesn't suddenly decide he doesn't want to be hanged and they win the game.