"I have complete faith in every member of my staff, Ms. Adams, I assure you. In fact, it is you whom I am the least acquainted with. Minerva shared with me an interesting theory you had about Voldemort's actions on the winter solstice. You are very familiar with necro-astrology and the nature of horcruxes for a Potions Master."
She bristled. How dare he! She was not going to sit here and be questioned, not again.
"You honestly think I would harm him? My own son!" She spat. "I am the ONLY ONE who has his best interests in mind!"
"By teaching him the Dark Arts?"
"If it is his destiny to defeat Voldemort, why does it matter? I will give him every resource he needs to protect himself."
"There is, I should hope, a world to plan for after Lord Voldemort's defeat. One where Harry's role should be that of a happy, well-adjusted young man. The Dark Arts destroy you - mind, body and soul. You claim to love him and yet -"
Dumbledore had pushed the wrong button. Alabasandria hissed with rage.
"You claim the role of wise mentor yet you keep him in the dark, without respect or trust. You force him to beg you for pertinent information like that of the prophecy. Tell me, Dumbledore, when you dropped him off after the attack that night, did you recognize the horcrux living within the boy's scar? He was marked as Voldemort's equal - isn't that what the prophecy said? His mind, body, and soul were already frayed when he got to me!"
Dumbledore paled. He'd half-risen in his seat from the force of their argument, but at her words he deflated, sinking back into his chair. He was stunned for a good minute or so.
"Is he - is he still?"
"No! Of course not! He is perfectly healthy and free from the trauma of that night, as well as from what he underwent at the hands of the muggles you placed him with."
"I had no idea," he whispered to himself.
"You may think of me however you wish, but do not dare to assume I do not care about Harry. I am his mother! Perhaps the universe, fate, or what-have-you felt that your slow, indefinite "teachings" would not be enough to stop Voldemort's rise to power. He is mine, not yours. He abides by my morals, not yours. Although I think it hypocritical of you to judge me. I remember the war with Grindelwald, you know. There was a time when you kept similar company."
They stared each other down, at an impasse. The only sound in the room was the phoenix merrily chasing a loud bell across the floor, chirping and cawing as it played. It was rather distracting to the tense moment.
"You do not aid Lord Voldemort or his followers in any way, nor do you agree with their doctrine?" Dumbledore asked in a somber, serious tone.
"Not even remotely," she rolled her eyes. "It is incredibly naive of you to assume all Dark magic users are on the same side, you know. I have no prejudice against muggleborns."
"You are committed to assisting in his permanent destruction?" he continued, ignoring her commentary.
"I've been hunting his horcruxes longer than you have."
"And you will not raise hand nor wand to any of the students or faculty of this school?"
"I haven't nor would I - unless to defend Harry. That is more than you could say about my predecessor, or Dolores Umbridge or even Moody. Again, you are thinking in black and white. I have no desire to slaughter innocents. I am not a Death Eater. Besides -" Sirius trusts me with Harry, she almost said, although that was not true, was it? She blinked back the swell of emotion that tugged at her soul. " - The Weasleys have certainly figured it out by now, and they trust me with the safety of Harry and Ronald regardless."
"I do not trust you."
"Smart. I don't trust you either."
They glared at each other a while more. Her gaze flickered to the ring on his finger. It didn't feel special. There was no draw to it like Harry had felt. Then she remembered in shock that she couldn't actually murder Dumbledore like she'd planned to, what a bummer. Harry had to if he wanted proper control of the Elder Wand. Although maybe she could strangle him with his beard and then willingly hand over the wand to Harry?
Did she want to risk it? She really, really, wanted to wrangle the old man. She had to do something.
Dumbledore steepled his fingers and gazed at her over the rim of his spectacles, unaware of her intentions. "In our own ways, we both care for Harry. We shall have to focus on that. I take no delight in the turmoil he has felt this year. I shall launch an investigation into the matter of the Yule Ball."
" - for any discrepancies in your professors," she added in a huff.
"Yes. And we will both discuss what we know of Voldemort's horcruxes."
"Very well," she said. Absolutely not, she thought. "But this is a conversation both Harry and Sirius should be privy to."
"Indeed. Well, it is late, and the dear boy is no doubt stressed enough as is. Perhaps we shall reconvene shortly after the second task?"
"That is agreeable."
It was best to wait to kill him. She was not normally this emotional and felt a flicker of embarrassment at her desires. She wasn't a child anymore. She had to think rationally. Revenge is best served cold, or something like that. Nonsense, it sounded like, but it would have to be true.
Honestly, she was acting like Harry.