Author's notes: I wrote a scene out that appears a little later in this fic, and I've made it into a songfic – it's on my profile if you want to read it: "Wake Me Up When September Ends".
Chapter Two: Sandwich Quidditch
"I recommend Ancient Magic."
Harry looked up from his Hogwarts letter. "What?"
Dumbledore nodded at it. "Ancient Magic. Perhaps not the most useful subject to have a qualification in, but it is fascinating."
"Don't you have to have an OWL in History to take that one?"
"Just a pass will do. Most of what you learn will be from scratch rather than building on previous teachings."
Dear Mr Potter, read the letter.
Following your grades from your Ordinary Wizarding Level exams, sixth years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry are required to choose their subjects for NEWT Level. These courses include three subjects not available to study at a lower level. It is recommended to take up two of these subjects in addition to your chosen Advanced courses.
Ancient Magic – requires OWLs in History of Magic and Defence Against the Dark Arts; recommended OWLs in Arithmancy and Ancient Runes
Healing – requires OWLs in Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Herbology and Defence Against the Dark Arts at E or above
Time Studies – requires OWLs in History of Magic, Transfiguration and/or Potions; and an OWL in Muggle Studies and/or Muggle background
"Why do you need Muggle knowledge for Time Studies?"
"You would be surprised how much of the syllabus involves looking at Muggle popular culture," Dumbledore chuckled. "And Professor Bulla does not like spending the whole of the first lesson every year explaining television to purebloods."
"And what's the Transfiguration and/or Potions OWL for?"
"Because those are very much theory subjects, and you need to be able to cope with a lot of theory to be able to do the subject. Time is very interesting, but mostly theory and speculation."
Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Which subjects did you take, Professor?"
"I took all of them. All the Ordinary Wizarding Level subjects too. I used a time-turner like your friend Hermione did in your third year. I would not recommend that, by the end of the courses I was almost too exhausted to do the exams."
Harry grinned. "But you still passed?"
"Everything except Herbology. But that was not my fault – one of the Fire Crabs escaped from the Care of Magical Creatures examination and set my Venomous Tentacula on fire."
They both laughed. The atmosphere in the living room was fairly light at present. It was varying, and had been since Dumbledore had arrived almost out of the blue two days previously. It was mostly just the two of them; the Dursleys, anxious about a very powerful and fully fledged wizard in the house, were all spending as much time as possible out of it.
Although there had been the occasional awkward silence or tense moment, for the most part Harry and his Headmaster were getting on well. They had come to an unspoken agreement to avoid serious or painful topics for now, and kept to general conversation and jokes. Oddly, Harry was feeling his anger towards Dumbledore slipping away as time went on, as if the company and laughter was the cure for resentment.
Occasionally he remembered Dumbledore's original letter, and wondered about this secret the Headmaster still had. But he didn't ask, telling himself that Dumbledore would tell him when it was the right time. He had always trusted him, and just because he had made a few huge errors did not mean that trust should disappear. Everyone made mistakes, and Dumbledore deserved a second chance.
He couldn't help but be curious though.
"You need to eat something, Harry."
"I'm not hungry."
Dumbledore sighed, looking down at the plates of sandwiches in front of them. An idea occurring, he broke a small piece off of a corner and waved it temptingly in front of Harry's mouth. "Whoosh, here comes the Quaffle towards the goal. Will there be a score? Open wide, Harry!"
Harry couldn't help but laugh, and Dumbledore took the opportunity to pop the piece of sandwich into his open mouth.
"Th-that's not fair," he said after half-choking. "You're not even eating yours."
Dumbledore promptly popped a piece of sandwich into his own mouth, even making the whooshing noise with it.
"Yum yum, raspberry jam," he said in the same kind of tone one would talk to a young child in. "Harry's turn again now."
Harry grinned and decided to obey.
This childish ritual continued until the plates were half empty, and then they decided to leave the rest. Dumbledore wrapped the rest of the sandwiches up and put them in the fridge for the next day. Harry noticed that as he did so, Dumbledore looked somehow sadder and kind of withdrawn, as if lost in memories.
"Are you all right, sir?" he asked. Despite Dumbledore's insistence early on into his stay that Harry drop the formalities and address him as Albus, Harry had not quite got into the habit yet.
"What? – Oh – yes. Thank you."
"You don't look okay to me," Harry said. "And don't think I haven't noticed you've been off your food too."
Dumbledore smiled weakly. "It's been a long year. And not … not with the best ending." He swallowed.
Harry just nodded, his eyes dropping. Dumbledore looked across at him and sighed.
"Maybe it's time we talked." He sat back down, putting a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "Do you want to talk, Harry?"
"I dunno." Harry rested his head on his arms. The memories were still so painful. "I just really miss him."
"I know," Dumbledore murmured.
"How can you?" Harry burst out, more bitter than he intended. "How do you have any idea what I'm bloody feeling?"
Dumbledore's hand tightened on his shoulder. "You're not the only one grieving, Harry." The tone of his voice, sadder than Harry had ever heard it before, made him meet Dumbledore's eyes. There was clear pain written all over them.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." Harry paused, a thought crossing his mind. "Were you and Sirius close?"
"Not as close as I would like to have been." Dumbledore looked like he was thinking carefully about how he phrased his answer. "I knew his mother Walburga. I knew him quite well as a toddler, but I lost contact with Walla when he was about two. The next time I saw him was at his Sorting."
"What about when you were in the Order together?"
"It wasn't very personal. Generally, the only things we discussed were related to the war." Dumbledore heaved a sigh.
Harry looked at his Headmaster thoughtfully. In truth, he had to admit that he hadn't given much thought to how others must have been feeling – after all, he hadn't been the only one to care about Sirius. But Dumbledore clearly did.
Slowly, Harry reached out and took hold of Dumbledore's hand, and squeezed it gently. Dumbledore, smiling sadly, squeezed it back.
Although the pain of Sirius' passing had not diminished, Harry felt slightly calmer. Knowing that there was somebody else, somebody close, who was going through the same thing made a huge difference. It also made talking about Sirius a little easier. Dumbledore knew things that Harry had not, such as what subjects he had been good at in school, what he had wanted to be when he had grown up, the adventures he had got up to with the Marauders, and the mischievous toddler he had been.
There was something to be said about grief, Harry pondered one night after Dumbledore had slid into a quiet slumber on the sofa beside him. It could bring people closer.
He had the thought not long before he too fell asleep, and woke a few hours later to find himself alone.
There was a note where Dumbledore had been, written on the back of Aunt Petunia's last shopping list. Harry unfolded it.
Dear Harry,
I'm sorry, but I have to leave for a while on important business. I will be back as soon as I can.
If I am not back in forty-eight hours, then inform Professor McGonagall, but otherwise DO NOT tell anybody that I have gone. I will explain when I return.
Don't you dare eat the last of the raspberry jam, or I will confiscate your Invisibility Cloak for the whole of the next term. Also, don't forget to feed Fawkes while I am gone.
Back soon,
Albus
Forty-eight painstakingly slow hours passed, and Harry grew more and more worried as no sign of Dumbledore turned up. He had not thought to leave instructions as to how to contact Professor McGonagall – the untidy writing was evidence that he had been in a hurry, and had missed that information out. Harry considered telling Mrs Figg, but it struck him that there must have been a reason why Dumbledore had instructed him to inform Professor McGonagall rather than the Order.
In the end, he scribbled a note addressed to Professor McGonagall telling her briefly that Dumbledore had not come back from important business and had instructed him to contact her. Harry was about to attach it to Hedwig, but Fawkes swooped out of nowhere, took the note out of Harry's hands and disappeared with it.
Why had he not thought of that before? Harry flopped onto his bed, unable to sleep.
Although it felt like hours, it was probably only around twenty minutes before Professor McGonagall appeared in a flash with Fawkes.
"Professor!" Harry sat bolt upright. "Do you know where -"
She held up a hand to stop him. "No."
Harry's heart sank.
"But I have a general idea where he went," Professor McGonagall continued, sitting down next to him. "Professor Snape has gone to look for him. Did he say anything about what he was doing?"
Harry said no and showed her the note Dumbledore had left. She sighed.
"Albus and his ambiguity. I swear it'll be the death of -" She stopped herself, realising what she was saying and noticing the look on Harry's face. "Don't worry, Harry, Albus can take care of himself." She gave his hand a squeeze in comfort, but Harry noticed her own hands were shaking slightly. "He will be back before you know it."
"I hope so," Harry mumbled, too quiet for Professor McGonagall to hear.
"All we can do now is wait."
TBC …