Future Nostalgia / Harry Potter Fanfic

Dumbledore Decides to Finally Tell the Truth

"It hurts so bad, Es," he whispered.

"I know, I know, and eventually, from what my dad's told me, the pain will lessen but it'll always be there...you'll always miss them but you have to remember the best of them, the good times you had with them and even the bad times because it reminds you that they were there and that they will never be forgotten...and in that, they are immortal," she said.

"Plus, the ability to feel this type of emotion, no matter how much it hurts, is a good thing," she added.

Harry gave her an odd look.

"What? It's what makes us different from people like Vold-"

Within a flash, Harry had pulled her out of her chair and into a tight hug, the two only separating when the empty fireplace burst into emerald-green flame, making the two leap away from each other.

As Dumbledore's tall form unfolded itself from the fire, the wizards and witches on the surrounding walls jerked awake. Many of them gave cries of welcome.

"Thank you," said Dumbledore softly.

"Well," said Dumbledore, moving away from the fireplace, "You will be pleased to hear that none of your fellow students are going to suffer lasting damage from the night's events."

The two sat in the armchairs next to each other and across Dumbledore's desk as her grandfather took his seat.

"Good," said Estella as Harry's grip on her hand tightened.

"Madam Pomfrey is patching everybody up now," said Dumbledore. "Nymphadora Tonks may need to spend a little time in St. Mungo's, but it seems that she will make a full recovery."

Harry nodded and Estella sat focusing on a teacup on his desk, hoping the tears swarming her eyes would not spill.

"I know how you're feeling Harry," said Dumbledore very quietly.

"No, you don't," said Harry, his voice loud and strong.

"There is no shame as I'm sure Estella has told you," said Dumbledore. "On the contrary, the fact you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength."

"How?" Harry yelled.

"It is your ability to feel pain, such as the pain of Sirius's death, that separates you from individuals alike those of the Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort and those like yourself, Estella, and your friends."

"I did not think of it that way," Harry said quietly.

"It is my fault that Sirius died," added Dumbledore. "Or I should say almost entirely my fault-I will not be so arrogant as to claim responsibility for the whole. Sirius was a brave, clever, and energetic man, and such men are not usually content to sit at home in hiding while they believe others to be in danger. Nevertheless, you should never have believed for an instant that there was any necessity for you to go to the Department of Mysteries tonight. You should have listened to your friends, Harry, they would never lead you astray. Estella, most certainly would not lie to you when it came to the death of captivity of someone important to the both of you."

"If I had been open with you, Harry, as I should have been, you would have known a long time ago that Voldemort might try and lure you to the Department of Mysteries, and you would have never been tricked into going there tonight. And Sirius would not have had to come after you. That blame lies with me, and with me alone."

"There is also the fact that Sirius did not want to come back. And that is with me. I kept him in hiding and sidelined. It is neither of your faults that Sirius is dead nor is it your fault that he chose to stay dead, he wanted to go. That lies with me. Do you understand?" Dumbledore asked.