Flames

Chapter 14

Hermione's face was still a mess of ragged burnt skin. When she smiled, the burns would crinkle, and sometimes, blood would fall from the cracks and dribble onto her parchment.

Now, more than ever, Hydrus was some sort of morbid wonder, a wonder boy that some thought a monster, and others, a monster with a good heart.

Even Professor Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon spectacles and preened his watery blue eyes upon Hydrus.

"It is quite curious what you have done."

Don't look at me like that. You think I'm a monster. Don't preach me for my noble actions. It would be a lie, and you swore to never lie when you took the post of Supreme Mugwump.

"Hermione was a friend," he told him quietly. "And I would do what I did a thousand times over if it meant seeing her alive."

"Whatever it was that you did." Through his thick beard, Professor Dumbledore smiled, and he looked grandfatherly, sitting with his hands clasped together in his office, a thousand magical trinkets buzzing behind him in cabinets.

Hydrus did not like his tone. "Whatever it was I did."

"Magic takes place through many different forms, and some are more obvious than others." Professor Dumbledore leaned forward. "May I take your hand?"

No you can't.

Hydrus gave it to him.

"Your hands... soft and supple as silk, yet filled with so much magical potential... it is extraordinary what you have done."

His voice was shaky when he spoke. "Me?"

"It is rare that children show such aptitude for wandless magic."

"You..." Remember your manners. "You are very kind, sir."

"Not kind, dear boy. Only truthful." Professor Dumbledore gave a small laugh, but sombered quickly. "You must understand what sort of responsibility this entails."

"I know, sir."

I know very well. I know so very, very well.

"You are a mature boy, Hydrus, if you do permit me to call you so. It is rare that such maturity is found in those with a childhood such as yours."

He took a deep breath, and tried to imagine Aldebaran Rowle, teaching him to converse in the flowery language of the Lords. "Jewels, gold and wonders I might have had, but they were naught but a part of my childhood, sir. My parents were insistent that I understand both sides of a coin."

That was only partly a lie.

"And I am glad for that. But still, a power as raw as yours needs to be honed."

No. "Sir..." He took back his hand and stared at it.

"Speak freely, Hydrus."

"You want to teach me magic."

Professor Dumbledore adjusted his spectacles and smiled. "I do."

"My parents won't appreciate it," he told him, groping for a lie.

"But you are not your parents. You look further on than prejudice and history, don't you? You see further than hate and grudges and curses."

But no amount of practice will ever rid me of those eyes, those bright red eyes...

When Hydrus did not respond in a long time, Professor Dumbledore pushed on. "You don't want to hurt anyone ever again, do you?"

"No."