you raise me up || harry potter

chapter 66

Harry hadn't known there had been a charm. Suddenly, things clicked into place. It wasn't just a mother's love. It was also Dumbledore, taking advantage of the first requirement for a mother's sacrifice, a mother's blood to be shed, in order to protect Harry, who had survived against all odds. But a charm didn't explain why Voldemort had been defeated in the first place, by a mere baby. Of the hundreds of children of doomed witches who must have pleaded with Voldemort to spare their child, why was Harry the one who cast Voldemort into temporary limbo?

But he didn't ask Dumbledore any of this.

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Everything I've done, Harry, is to keep you safe. The blood wards were the only way. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded, sensing it would be best to agree here, though he didn't. 

Dumbledore looked satisfied at this answer, and leaned forward. "I've reassessed the situation," he said softly. "There is an option for you now. We may be able to relocate you."

Harry thought maybe he hallucinated for a second. "Re... relocate me?" he croaked. "Away from the Dursely's, you mean?" He knew he sounded desperate and weak. But if there was any chance—any chance at all—he didn't care.

"Yes," Dumbledore said softly. "But I must preface this by saying that in general, it's not ideal. And while I know it is the best case scenario for you now—" Dumbledore held up a hand, "—we must think of the future."

Whatever joy Harry felt in the last few seconds were dashed to dust. Of course. Of course it was too good to be true. "Okay," he said flatly. "What about the future? Sir?"

"Such as the Dursley's, for one thing," Dumbledore said. "What will happen, do you think, if you no longer call Privet Drive home?"

A slow sheet of dread settled upon Harry's skin, cloaking him in horror. "They... they won't be under any protection?"

Dumbledore nodded gravely, and sighed with regret. "Of course, I would do everything in my power to protect them, as I'm sure you'd wish," he said. "But I cannot guarantee anything, not when Voldemort truly comes back."

"Of course," Harry breathed. "I... I can't let them... I can't let them die..."

"And as for relocating you," Dumbledore said, "We must also think for the safety of those who would reside with you."

"They'd be in danger too," Harry whispered miserably. "I can't do that to someone."

Dumbledore gave him a sad, grandfatherly smile. "You must think very carefully about the people you care about, especially going forward," Dumbledore said. 

There's were pinpricks of light in Harry's eyes as it got more and more difficult to breathe. What was he supposed to do? The answer should have been simple. He had to stay with the Dursley's. He couldn't endanger any more people than he already had. He had already been the cause of his parents' deaths. He had to prevent suffering at all costs. So what if the Dursley's withheld food sometimes, or made him garden at high noon, or that he never got birthday gifts or wishes? So many people had it so much worse. How could Harry complain at the cost of human lives?

"And so I leave the decision up to you. I value your judgement, Harry."

Coming from Dumbledore, this was high praise, and Harry felt dismayed at himself for feeling the smallest glow of pride at these words of affirmation. But something about his words also were off, didn't ring true.

"But I don't care about the Dursley's," Harry said. And Dumbledore's gaze turned to lasers. 

"Love. Everything is about love," Harry said. "You said so yourself. But I've never known love, never, until I came to Hogwarts. Number 4 Privet Drive isn't my home. You're telling me there's a chance for me to leave, and then you tell me to think carefully, to not leave. The fact that you're telling me it's possible means you've already made arrangements for both scenarios."