Ink and Parchment ~ blood and bone

50

Merlin Eliza really couldn’t stand that man.

When Eliza entered the office the penseive was already sat on the desk and Dumbledore smiled at her when she took the seat in front of him.

“I see you’ve settled in to your sixth year at Hogwarts Eliza” Dumbledore said, always a fan of meaningless small talk. Eliza smiled anyway and nodded.

“Professor Slughorn is quickly becoming one of my favourite teachers” Eliza admitted with a grin and Dumbledore let out a laugh.

“Yes, I imagined you and Horace would get along”

You could always trust a slytherin to make the best of any situation.

Eliza’s gaze drifted towards the pensieve and rose an inquiring eyebrow.

“And what are we watching today sir?”

Dumbledore smiled and stood, pouring a phial of memories into the basin “This time, we are going to enter my memory. I think you will find it both rich in detail and satisfyingly accurate. After you, Eliza”

Inwardly grimacing Eliza leaned forward until she disappeared into the pensieve, landing easily on an old fashioned London street.

She was feeling uneasy about this particular memory.

“There I am,” said Dumbledore brightly when he joined her in the memory, pointing ahead of them to a tall figure crossing the road. This younger Albus Dumbledore’s long hair and beard were auburn. He strode off along the pavement, drawing many curious glances due to the flamboyantly cut suit of plum velvet that he was wearing.

“Lovely suit, sir” Eliza commented cheekily and Dumbledore let out a chuckle as they started following his younger self. They walked until they reached an old grimy building and Eliza felt her heart drop to her stomach when she saw the peeling letters above it.

Wool’s Orphanage.

“Good afternoon. I have an appointment with a Mrs. Cole, who, I believe, is the matron here?” younger Dumbledore asked and Eliza worked very hard to regain a blank expression. She didn’t want to see this.

She had seen this before after all, she knew how it ended.

Eliza watched as Mrs. Cole dealt with the younger Dumbledore, so much like the matron at her orphanage. She remembered that this was the woman who treated Tom worse than dirt, who even sent him to be exorcised and she had to reign in her temper. Although Dumbledore can probably already see how much she was bristling.

Younger Dumbledore was led through the orphanage and she and actual Dumbledore trotted faithfully behind him until they arrived at Tom’s old room.

It was a small bare room with nothing in it except an old wardrobe, a wooden chair, and an iron bedstead. And there, sitting on top of the grey blankets, his legs stretched out in front of him and holding a book, was Tom. He appeared relaxed but he watched Dumbledore with narrowed wary eyes, far too wary for a child to be.

Merlin he had been so young.

Eliza hadn’t noticed it when Tom showed her his own memory of this, she had only been twelve herself, but now it was as clear as day. He hadn’t showed her this bit, all those years ago. Eliza couldn’t help but wince knowing she was soon going to find out why.

“I am Professor Dumbledore.”

“‘Professor’?” Tom repeated dubiously “Is that like ‘doctor’? What are you here for? Did she get you in to have a look at me?”

Salazar how many times had Tom been put through that? He was only a kid, violent yes, with a few psychotic tendencies but still just a kid.

“No, no,” said Dumbledore, still smiling.