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Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
I own nothing but the original characters I make.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 15: Speaking With The Headmaster
The morning arrived, and the first visit he received was from Madam Pomfrey, to check on him.
Harry made a surface scan of her thoughts, and she didn't seem to suspect that anything was off with him. He only felt kindness and pity emanating from the old healer.
'How disgusting…' He knew this was expected, since as far as everyone was aware, he was nothing more than a child, but it was still unpleasant nonetheless.
It's only been a day, and he was already missing the cold walls of his fortress and the company of his old followers.
There were vampires, demons, zombies...and of course, his wraiths, who people now referred to as 'Dementors.'
'Where did they even get that name from?' Harry wondered.
"Mister Potter, are you listening to me?"
He glanced at the old woman. Apparently, she had been saying something to him while his mind was doing a journey through the past.
"Not really," he responded, earning a deep frown from the woman.
"I was saying that your injuries have all been healing satisfactorily. Most of them were shallow cuts and bruises. The effects of that nasty curse should have passed already. Are you feeling pain anywhere in your body?"
"No. I'm feeling much better now." That wasn't completely true, although he was sure that most of what he was feeling was due to the fact that his body and soul were still adapting to each other.
This was not something that would pass after a day or two of rest.
Madam Pomfrey wrote something on her notepad before handing him a potion. "This is a restorative tonic. It will help you feel back in shape. I see no reason to keep you here any longer, so—"
"Then I would like to take my leave," Harry said.
"I will have to ask you to wait for a bit longer, Mister Potter," Madam Pomfrey hurried to say.
"How so? You said that I was fine."
"You are, but… the Headmaster requested the chance to speak with you before you leave this infirmary. Also… I believe there is something that you should know."
"And what is that?" He already knew what she wanted to say. They found the body of the other abducted boy… Cedric Diggory.
He heard the healer speaking with one of the professors last night.
Apparently, the Headmaster left the school after his conversation with the Minister and found the cemetery where they were attacked.
Harry heard no mention of Voldemort or any of the other people implicated. Just that he found the boy lying on the grounds of the cemetery, and that he was dead.
"Well… it's about Mister Diggory, you see…" Madam Pomfrey stopped speaking when she heard the door open.
The Headmaster made his entrance, and this time he was alone.
"Headmaster, I was about to call you." The healer went to receive him.
"Mister Potter's condition is completely stable. I believe there is no more point in keeping him in the infirmary."
"That's excellent news." There was a twinkle on the corner of his glasses as he spoke.
His blue eyes moved quickly to Harry's bed.
"I will need to speak with Harry for a moment though… alone."
"Of course." Madam Pomfrey took her leave and went to another part of the infirmary so as not to disturb their chat.
"Harry, my boy. It's good to see you in good health," Dumbledore said, while carrying a warm smile.
Harry did not dare to use any type of mind magic to even scan the surface of his thoughts as he did with the healer. This man was much more dangerous and would likely detect any attempt of the sort...just like he could do.
"Thank you, Professor. Madam Pomfrey said that you needed to speak with me… if it is about last night, I…"
"Have you remembered anything else after a good night of rest?" Dumbledore got closer.
"No, professor. I'm sorry, but no." He couldn't suddenly claim to have regained his memories, because he had no explanation as to how he arrived at the school.
Accidental magic could have occurred in someone of his age, but an accidental apparition would be extremely rare, and he'd rather not go there.
It was preferable to leave it as a mystery. Besides, he didn't feel like cooperating with whatever this man's plans were for him.
"I see… that is very disappointing," Dumbledore sighed. "We found Cedric, Harry, and… I'm afraid that he did not make it."
"That's terrible news, Professor," Harry said.
Why would he care about that brat's death? Him, along with his Hufflepuff house, were some of the worst offenders for the harassment he received over the entire year.
A harassment that none of the professors tried to stop, mind you.
'Had I been the one in control back then, things would have ended very differently.' His imagination began to run wild, trying to think about what curses he would like to use on those students.
"Terrible indeed. But even more terrible is what I believe happened next."
"What do you mean, Professor?" He pretended to be completely ignorant.
"The cemetery had remnants of what I believe was… a terrible ritual. One that made use of your blood in order to revive…" Dumbledore looked around to make sure no one was listening.
"To bring Voldemort back to life," he said in a whisper.
He made his best attempt to look shocked. "Oh no… what are we going to do?"
Dumbledore sighed again. "Unfortunately, there is little we can do at the moment. Without any evidence, we won't be able to convince the Ministry of Magic to take action. And since you don't remember anything that happened that night, well…"
'So you're going to put the blame on a child?... how classy,' Harry thought.
"I'm very sorry, Professor… I have disappointed you."
Dumbledore put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, my boy. We will figure this out, and you are safe here. I will keep you updated if anything happens. But for now, you can return to your room and resume classes."
'Keep me updated? I seriously doubt that.' He recalled all the interactions he had with this man over the past four years. The old wizard liked to use riddles and ambiguous words a bit too much.
"Thank you, Professor," said Harry. On the surface, he was smiling, but deep inside, he had already begun to think how to deal with the Dark Lord who seemed obsessed with him for some reason.
He watched as the Headmaster left the infirmary.
'I don't need your help, old man. I will crush this Voldemort myself.'
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