Harmonizing with Him

Chapter 21

Hello, my lovely readers! Happy new year! I hope 2022 had a good start for you all :D

Yes, I know I am updating late yet again. And time management will get even more challenging as my final exams are approaching nearer. But not to worry! I love writing and I love this story, and just can't wait to wrap it up ;)

As always, thank you for reading and showing your appreciation! It means the world, seriously! Drop some comments on this chapter, too! Enjoy!

P.S. The Harry Potter reunion almost moved me to both happy and sad tears :( :D What about you all?

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The room was alive. The shimmery crystal-like hangings on the ceiling swayed back and forth, creating soft clinking sounds as they hit each other. There was no wind.

Beneath the bizarre chandelier, several glass balls lit up on their own accord. The bird sitting nearby squawked loudly, spreading its beautiful fiery wings as it did so. The strange clock fixed above the mantelpiece bobbed up and down as it was dancing to some tune only it could hear.

The room was a living thing, its breath coming out in the form of strange yet amusing sights and sounds.

However, the owner of this room paid no heed to these peculiar objects. It was like he couldn't even hear them at all and was sitting in a place filled with a void-like silence instead. Tapping his long and slightly blackened fingers on his desk, he seemed to be waiting for someone.

That someone arrived only a few minutes later. The magnificent oak door swung open to reveal a tall, thin woman. Professor McGonagall.

"You called for me, professor?" she asked, entering the interesting room. The wizard behind his desk apprehended the newcomer. Her mouth had grown thinner, her black hair was fixed so tightly in a bun that her forehead appeared stretched out, and her movements were brisk. The wizard could instantly tell she was stressed.

"Thank you for coming, Minerva," said Dumbledore, peering at her over his half-moon glasses, "Yes, I did require your assistance for something."

"What is it?"

He waved a hand to one of the chairs in front of him. "Have a seat."

Instead of obeying him, McGonagall looked at him, deadpan.

"Would this be a long discussion? As I have some duties to carry out for the Order –"

"I am well aware of your tasks," Dumbledore gently interrupted, "But this is an urgent matter. I'm afraid it has been nagging me for quite some time now."

McGonagall sighed, but she took a seat at Dumbledore's request. "What's the matter? I hope it's nothing too...uptight?"

Despite her anxious face, Dumbledore smiled a little. "Well, that depends on how you describe an 'uptight' situation."

She closed her eyes. "Albus, please."

"Don't be so strained, Minerva," he went on, "I see you're under pressure from the tasks the Order has assigned you."

"With those Death Eaters out, I'm not surprised." She paused. "Do you think that...he, or them, have begun plotting?"

"Yes, I believe so," Dumbledore replied, lacing his strange blackened fingers together. McGonagall had noticed their oddness, but she knew better than to ask him about it. The journeys he took were a complete secret, and he didn't even share them with the Order. One could only imagine what he was up to.