A Broken Inheritance

Chapter 85: The Price of Freedom

James blinked. "What?"

"I am not in the business of extracting people from situations they do not wish to leave," Dumbledore said simply. "However difficult those situations may appear."

"You're just going to let her stay there?"

"Has she at least expressed some desire to... change her current situation?"

James stayed silent.

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Then I'm afraid, James, that this is not your decision to make. I can only offer my help, if she wants it. If she asks for it."

"She won't," he added. "She thinks she's past the point of escape. She's convinced herself this is for the better."

"She is remarkably intelligent," Dumbledore said, with a faint nod. "She's likely considered the variables quite thoroughly."

James took a step forward.

"She's wrong."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, mildly. "Is she?"

"She's not who you think she is," James snapped. "You don't get to leave her there because she hasn't said the magic words. She's been through hell. She thinks the only way to keep the rest of us alive is by staying chained to him."

Dumbledore didn't flinch. "And you think removing her by force would help her how?"

James took a step closer, voice rising. "It's for her own good."

Dumbledore studied him. "The phrase 'for their own good,' Mr. Potter, has justified many dark acts throughout history."

James exhaled, sharp and hot.

"I'm not asking for her to be locked up in some Order facility," he said. "I'm asking for her to be taken somewhere safe. Long enough for her to see what freedom looks like. To remember she can want it. That it's within reach."

Dumbledore's expression didn't shift. He merely folded his hands again and said, "I won't risk the lives of our operatives for someone who won't leave Tom Riddle's side of their own accord."

James opened his mouth, but Dumbledore lifted one hand—calm, measured. "She is a high-risk, high-value target. Extraction would be costly. It would require preparation, stealth, and personnel we do not currently have to spare. I'm afraid, Mr. Potter... not today."

He reached for his teacup.

James didn't let him take a sip.

"She saved Thalia Bell."

Dumbledore paused. The porcelain hovered just an inch above the saucer, silent.

James stepped forward. "That night—when Rosier and the others dragged her to Malfoy Manor. Anastasia was there."

The words came fast now. Too fast. He didn't care.

"She was surrounded by them. Death Eaters. Tom's inner circle. And she stood between Thalia and whatever the hell they were about to do. She didn't have to. She could've watched. Could've let it happen. But she didn't."

Dumbledore lowered the teacup. "I don't recall that in the report Remus submitted."

James hesitated. His jaw clenched. "It wasn't in the report."

"I see."

James hated the way he said it. Calm. Detached. As if he were already calculating the error margins.

"She risked everything," James went on, louder now. "Her cover. Her position. Her safety. She used magic she wasn't supposed to use just to keep Thalia alive."