Despite his perfectly logical words, Harry couldn't help but feel a bubbling sort of anger grow in his chest as Ginny's words from those weeks ago returned to his head: 'Dumbledore sure likes to objectify people'. He didn't realise he'd stopped listening to the headmasters' words, and tuned in again just to hear the end of his sentence:
"...which is why she will be staying at Hogwarts over these Christmas holidays."
"...What!"
Dumbledore sighed, and repeated himself slowly.
"Harry. It is for her safety. Hogwarts is the safest place she can be. Therefore, she will be staying here."
He couldn't believe it—and the anger bloomed in his chest.
"...how long is she going to be in there, really? How long are you going to keep her in there for?"
"As long as it takes."
His mouth opened, yet no words found his tongue—dumbfounded that the wise old man he once thought to be so admirable and magnificent was actually saying this, until that fury bubbling in his chest rose and he found his voice again.
"What—until she dies? What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Ja—Harry, please. Adeline is strong."
"She's exhausted," Harry corrected him. "She has, what, six months left to live, and you're gonna keep her in the hospital wing the whole time? Cut off and tired and scared and dying?"
"She is a weapon if in the wrong hands—" Dumbledore's voice began rising, palms flat on his desk and he stood, though Harry's voice was louder.
"STOP TREATING HER LIKE SHE'S JUST A BAG OF DARK MAGIC!" He yelled, and as this outburst rendered not only Dumbledore speechless, but the chatting portraits as well, he continued.
"You're isolating her from everyone, everything, like she's some bomb waiting to go off, and—and she's not! She's a person and she's scared, and if you really cared about your students the way you pride yourself on—"
"Harry—"
"I'm not done! If you really cared, then she wouldn't be shoved aside in the hospital wing! You'd be checking in with her and letting her be with her friends and—"
"HARRY!" Dumbledore bellowed, cutting him off. Harry met the headmaster's periwinkle eyes with a glare. "Adeline is a danger to Hogwarts! by keeping her in the hospital wing, and out of classes, and certainly away from that shield, not only will she be safer, but every student and member of staff will be."
"But there's no point!" Harry stressed, speaking quickly. "She can't transform randomly the way she could last year; that was Umbridge, and she won't take off again either because her body and magic are too weak, and even if she could, just lock some doors or something! Besides, last year that black smoke stuff appeared at her feet and she was about to transform and I got her out of it! So—"
"With the spell?" Dumbledore's voice shifted tones; softer, curious.
"...no. I don't know the spell. I just talked her out of it." Harry continued, though Dumbledore pondered on his words. "You could teach us all the spell though, like myself, Hermione, Ron and Ginny, and members of The Order, why don't you just do that—"
"You 'talked her out of it?" Dumbledore repeated. Harry stopped.
"Well, yeah," Harry recalled. "I calmed her down."
"That's impossible."
Harry blinked. "I—"
"Why didn't you tell me this before?"
"I—" Harry's brow furrowed. "It was ages ago. I didn't think it was that big of a deal."
Dumbledore crossed his arms; brow knitted together in thought, eyeing the rose on his desk. Its petals were beginning to wrinkle and darken around its edges—though Harry didn't notice it; his eyes trained to Dumbledore's face in an effort to read his expression.
The spell he'd created to rid of her 'monster' takes much concentration, energy and will to execute—dark magic is strong, after all. To fight against it, you have to make yourself strong, even if your bones shake. Even he, as a great, powerful wizard with well over one hundred years of experience, feels a twinge of exhaustion after performing the spell. For a young wizard—a student—to do exactly what this spell does without magic is unheard of; it's impossible, and yet...it isn't.
He sat down—and Harry followed, sitting down on the chair opposite Dumbledore; his desk between them.
"Harry," Dumbledore looked up at him. "I've underestimated you. Ever since you pulled Adeline from the black lake, there has been a connection between the two of you. Maybe it's been there all along."
"...what?" Harry studied the headmasters face; trying to figure out what his words meant, playing with his hands.
"I believe there is a reason you found her, something along the lines of fate; something greater than us all. And I've always considered it a mere 'gut-feeling', if you will, until now. If what you say is true, that you saved Adeline from the control of her dark magic through merely your words of comfort...this is almost evidence for that connection..."
By now, Dumbledore was more speaking to himself in some philosophical trance, his eyes on Harry but not really looking at him anymore, and Harry was lost; unsure what to make of this apparent discovery—what the headmaster meant by fate; by something 'greater than us all'; what affect this had on anything.
"Sir—" His voice brought Dumbledore back to the present moment. "I don't get it. What do you mean... 'connection'? What connection?"
"Souls, Harry. Your souls are connected; maybe in some past life, in another time, some other existence, or in ways we can never know. You are safest with one another." He concluded—and seeing that this made no more sense to Harry than anything else he'd said, he continued. "I'm saying that...you're right, Harry. She is safest with you, not when she's in Hogwarts. Adeline can leave the hospital wing."
"YES!" Harry stood up—and in doing so, knocked over his chair. Picking it back up apologetically, he faced Dumbledore with a grin; astonished that storming up to the headmasters office in the middle of the night actually worked. "Brilliant, okay! And—uh—sorry about storming up here so late. And for yelling."
"I admire your bravery, Harry." He smiled.
"Okay, cool," Harry looked around, and figured this was his time to leave; making his way to the door, about to step out. "Well, goodnight professor!"
"Harry," Dumbledore called after him from behind his desk. He turned around. "No matter what the future entails, you have to trust her, okay? Whatever happens."
"Yeah," Harry agreed from the doorway, unsure of where this was coming from. His voice was soft. "Always."
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a/n:
lol hii
if u don't already know, i have a short story called skin and bone ! it's also a harry potter x oc and i recently finished it, so check it out if u want!! :)
next update will be in a couple days hehe
-g
ch. 15 - she knows?
Start from the beginning
