Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.
Questions Concerning:
Anna: Yes, she is a bit different. Her history is obviously unique and an event in her childhood is the cause of her ability. However, please note that she can't do more than simply skim the surface of a Legilimens without being detected. More on her later.
Harry's hand: You'll see.
Part 8: Departure
McGonagall made her way up to the Headmaster's office. They would be leaving for the funerals within the hour.
The door opened automatically as she went up the staircase. Entering the office, she found Dumbledore and Harry behind the desk, both of them already in dark robes. Harry was sitting on Dumbledore's lap, and appeared to be trying his best to give some baby comfort. Comfort young children seemed to instinctively know when to give.
"A'bus sad," Harry stated.
McGonagall sighed, though silently impressed with Harry's vocabulary and ability to read Albus, though, Dumbledore may have told Harry how he was feeling and Harry was just repeating it.
Dumbledore looked up at McGonagall, looking exactly how Harry had just said, sad.
"How are you, my dear?" he asked, clearly pushing aside his own grief.
"I'll be fine, Albus, how about you?" she asked, moving in front of the desk.
Dumbledore looked at her for a moment, as if trying to determine the answer. A few emotions passed through his eyes that she couldn't decipher as Harry briefly closed his eyes, as if pained by an invisible thing. She didn't know what to think about that, but decided it must have been a brief irritation on his palm or something.
"Albus?"
"I'll be fine; we'll all be fine. Death is just the next great adventure, though I seem to have recently forgotten that," he said. "Not that that knowledge relieves or removes much sorrow or regret."
"Albus, Lily and James know you did everything you could, and I'm sure Sirius knows that too. Their deaths were not your fault."
"I know. I just wish things could have gone differently, especially since the war has . . . been postponed. The Potters and so many others should have been given this rest, rather than the deeper everlasting kind," Dumbledore said.
"You really believe You-Know-Who can return?" McGonagall asked softly.
"Can, and will," he said, before frowning as if realizing something. "And Minerva, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' business is enough to make even a sane person like myself go insane. And if you can't bring yourself to call him Voldemort, surely you can call him Riddle?"
"Baldie bad!" Harry suddenly interrupted, a part of him for some odd reason not liking that he was being ignored.
Dumbledore couldn't help but chuckle as the corner of McGonagall's left eye gave a slight twitch.
"Yes, Harry, Voldemort is bad," he said, his eyes alight with amusement.
"'Baldie', Albus?" she asked, not sure how she should feel about Harry unintentionally designating a rather humorous nickname for the Dark Lord who had terrorized them for the past eleven years, not to mention murdered his parents and so many others.
"James and Lily were alone with Harry for several months in that house, Minerva. It stands to reason that he would pick up words a bit quicker than the average toddler because of that, and considering James' personality, I'm sure such mispronunciations were encouraged," Dumbledore said, before giving a sad sigh. "It is clear Voldemort was often a topic of conversation between them."
"Well, Albus, we should be going. I'm sure most everyone is already there," she said after a few seconds.
Dumbledore nodded, standing up with Harry on his left hip. Dumbledore had done away with the bandage on Harry's forehead, but had placed a fresh one on his hand. He hoped people would be respectful and not stare at the bolt-shaped scar, and considering the only people who would be attending the funeral were close friends, he was sure they would be.
O o O o O
It was quiet, and everyone paused and turned to Dumbledore, Harry, and McGonagall when they appeared in the cemetery. Although the color black was not being worn by all, dark colors were prominent. The only bright color seen was a small yellow lily pinned just above their hearts with a clay band around its stem and a black silk ribbon looped to the ring. The three items of course symbolized Lily, James, and Sirius.
Dumbledore silently conjured them for himself, Harry, and McGonagall.
The caskets were up at the front and closed. People were quietly mingling, talking of the past and the good times they had with the dearly departed.
The service was quick and not long winded, the time primarily focusing on people simply showing their respects. A few people came up to Dumbledore and stroked or kissed Harry's cheek in sympathy.
Harry stayed with Dumbledore, and Dumbledore knew better than to pass Harry off to anyone. Everyone surprisingly didn't question this, though a few times people like Molly Weasley came over and hovered for a little bit, as if hoping Dumbledore would let her hold Harry for a while. But Harry's clinginess was answer enough for her, that and an unexplainable feeling she got for a moment, as if she was trespassing or something.
McGonagall stayed close by, but gave them space in case some people wanted to only speak with Dumbledore or Harry (not that Harry spoke much).
It wasn't that Harry didn't like being held by other people, it was just that he wasn't ready to be held by or really interact with those who were, for the moment, dead to him. Getting used to seeing and hearing McGonagall had been hard enough, and still was a little, so seeing Molly Weasley and several other people he had known in the future, and yes, even seen die, was slightly overwhelming.
Harry took a moment to scan his eyes over everyone who had come. There were the Weasleys, the Longbottoms, people from the Order, a few people he didn't know, and . . . was that Xenophilius Lovegood?
Harry moved his head, causing Dumbledore to look where Harry was staring.
"Ah, I see you have found the Lovegoods," Dumbledore said softly.
Harry continued looking, seeing a woman beside Xeno holding a fairly young infant who Harry instantly knew was Luna. Xeno seemed to be unsure, as if he didn't know why they were there, while his wife was quite content, though understandably sad as they began making their way toward Harry and Dumbledore.
Harry quickly averted his eyes, trying to appear as clueless as possible, though his eyes revealed him to be anything but. For people who looked at Harry, they would go away strongly believing the child instinctively knew what the gathering was about, which wasn't that abnormal. Children often do understand more than adults give them credit for.
"Good evening, Headmaster," Xeno said, his wife holding baby Luna in a blue, sparkling sling just behind him. "It pains me that we must meet on such circumstances, but it seems we mere mortals can only accept what comes." He sighed, and Harry tried not to imagine what thing he was about to say next. "The Potters will be missed, and I dare say the Sparkling Humdingers will particularly miss them. Just look at them, circling around above them. . . ." Xeno motioned toward the caskets, pointing to a collection of imaginary invisible things.
Thankfully, Xeno's wife stepped up before her husband could say anything more to possibly prove his . . . unique mental facilities.
"How are you and Harry doing, Headmaster?" she asked, Luna opening her eyes and blinking at the sight of a very old man with an impossibly long white beard.
"We are doing as well as can be expected, under the circumstances, but we will be fine, Rebekah," Dumbledore said.
Rebekah (Beki) gave a sad but supportive smile. "I'm sure you've already been told this by several people, but if you or Harry need anything, we're willing to help. As you know, Lily was a close friend of mine. I want her son to live the life she would have wanted for him — a good, safe, happy and long one."
"I plan to provide that as best I can. And if I think of anything I feel you can help us with, I'll be sure to ask you," Dumbledore said sincerely.
Beki gave a short nod, before Luna gave a happy gurgle. Harry leaned forward, wanting to see what baby Luna looked like.
Because of the war, most keepsakes such as photos had been lost. They were much like people. There one day, gone the next.
Harry gazed down at Luna, wondering how long she would stay innocent this time before briefly glancing at her mother, who he knew was watching him. Pulling back, almost appearing embarrassed, Harry vowed to try to prevent the death of this woman, so Luna would have a mother and not have to bear the burden of witnessing death.
"You want a better look at Luna?" Beki cooed, turning slightly to allow Harry to see Luna more clearly, instead of trying to peek over the cloth of the sling. "She's much smaller than you, isn't she? But don't let her size fool you, she has a very strong set of lungs, let me tell you," she said, bringing up her free hand and touching Luna's nose affectionately with her finger.
Luna gave a small giggle, her little hands waving about slightly.
Harry smiled, and before he could stop himself, he reached out with his good hand and took hold of her little hand.
Wow, she is little, Harry thought as Luna focused her eyes on him.
Suddenly realizing what he was doing, he let her hand go and pulled away, or he would have if she didn't have such a strong grip.
"Ah, you let our little Luna get a vice-grip," Xeno said proudly. "Her hands are as strong as Mango Lipsmackers!"
Harry blinked, his hand still in the custody of one two-month-old until Beki intervened.
"There we go," she said, gently prying Luna's tiny fingers from Harry's hand. "Very lucky your hair is out of reach, Harry. She does not relinquish that so easily. I know from experience." She glanced at Dumbledore's beard and took a tiny step back.
Dumbledore gave a small chuckle, noticing Beki's thoughtful action as Harry subconsciously placed his now free hand onto Dumbledore's beard and took hold.
"Well, Headmaster, you know where to find us if you ever wish to," she said, Xeno giving a departing nod, before they walked away.
O o O o O
Harry and Dumbledore returned to Hogwarts later that day, feeling understandably emotionally worn and physically tired.
Dumbledore lowered Harry into the playpen, before handing him a lemon drop and plopping heavily into his office chair. Harry sucked on the lemon drop as he eyed Dumbledore with concern and question.
"Harry, my boy, I've just been hit with a thought. I don't know why it took me so long to realize this, but, we are not the only ones who have needed to go to funerals recently. Many of my students have lost parents, siblings, friends and relatives. Some of them are even alone.
"Why didn't I do something the first time? Perhaps if I had, some would have chosen differently," Dumbledore said. "Well, I'm going to change this now. Hmm, how do you think we can help?"
Harry scrunched up his face for a moment, thinking. "Cow'suhwaloar," he finally said.
"What?"
"Cow'suhwalowalr."
"I'm sorry, I can't understand you."
Harry huffed, trying to get his tongue to work for him so he could pronounce the word he wanted. "Cow'snuhslwar."
"Okay . . . 'cow'… I'm trying, Harry. Say it again," Dumbledore said, truly trying to understand what Harry was obviously desperately trying to say.
Harry took a deep breath, willing himself to try again. "Cow . . . oh, goshergobber! Uh, shink! shrik, shrink!"
"Huh? You want to shrink?! You want to be smaller?"
"Argh! No! Uh sh'ink!"
"A shrink?" Dumbledore asked, even more confused.
Harry nodded, relieved Dumbledore had understood the word.
"What is a 'shrink'?"
Harry moaned, trying not to cave into tears. This was so frustrating! Harry looked over at the desk and began reaching for a quill and a piece of parchment. Dumbledore quickly noticed and gave them to him.
Taking hold of the quill as he sat down in his playpen, Harry carefully placed the parchment into his lap with his wrapped hand and made his features relax into a thoughtful one. He then tapped the side of the blank page with the side of his quill.
"A'bus, I see . . . I see," Harry said, before going off into a random, but clearly thoughtful, baby babble.
"A reporter?!" Dumbledore asked, gathering that Harry was trying to impersonate some sort of person.
Beyond frustrated, Harry leapt up and chucked the quill and page away, barely mindful of his injured hand.
"No-no-no!" he shouted, very close to a tantrum.
Both of them feeling equally frustrated and discouraged, Dumbledore got up, suddenly thinking of something that might help them. He went over to his bookcase and pulled out a decently sized book.
"Here," he said, gently placing the book in the pen.
A dictionary!
Harry quickly plopped down and began fumbling through the pages, Dumbledore privately thankful about placing anti-tear and anti-papercut charms on all the pages years before. Harry got to the 'c's and slowed down, before stopping and skimming a particular page in search of that special word.
"Dat!" Harry shouted, pointing at a three syllable word with his tiny little finger, his bandaged hand once again in his lap.
"Oh! Counselor!" Dumbledore exclaimed, now excited. They had found the word!!!
Harry nodded, grinning like mad and so happy Dumbledore now understood.
"Ok, I see where you're going with this, and it certainly would help the students. Of course, they know they can always come to one of the professors or myself, but I also know how students feel and what they think. . . . I recall when you were a student, you didn't want to speak to any of us, thinking we were too busy or wouldn't understand." Dumbledore gave a sad sigh as past regrets flickered in his eyes. "I think hiring a counselor is a good idea. That way, students won't feel guilty about taking up an adult's time, and I admit sometimes the professors and I are busy and are not as mindful as we should be."
Harry nodded in agreement, emotionally swallowing the regret that had risen in Dumbledore.
"I will do my best not to fail this time, as I had with you and your peers," Dumbledore promised. "But I also admit I am going to need help in this, hence the counselor. I also trust you will keep me mindful?"
Harry nodded and was unable to prevent himself from gurgling, much to his embarrassment. Dumbledore smiled and scooped him up before going behind his desk and sitting down.
"Who should we get as a counselor?" Dumbledore asked. Harry shrugged. "Hmm."
Harry let him ponder as he reached over and grabbed a lemon drop from the bowl beside him.
"Ah, I know," Dumbledore said finally. Harry looked up to find the old man's eyes twinkling like crazy. "And afterwards, I think I'll write to my old friend, Nicholas."
Harry swallowed nervously, since crazy twinkling usually meant something huge. Dumbledore waved his hand and called the quill to him, immediately setting the tip to parchment.
Dear Rebekah Lovegood,
O o O o O
Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel exited their greenhouse and entered their mansion. It wasn't exactly a mansion, but that's what the wizarding world assumed they lived in, so they playfully called the one story cabin a mansion.
Going into the living room, they were not all that surprised to find Fawkes resting on the perch beside Honey, their golden phoenix who Fawkes was undeniably attracted to. It was rather cute, actually.
"Good to see you Fawkes. Brought something for us from Albus, I assume?" Nicholas asked, before Fawkes gave a nod to the table where a sealed letter was.
"Let's see what the young follow has to say now," Nicholas said, taking a seat at the couch and picking up the letter.
Perenelle sat beside him, wishing to read what Albus, the always curious, Dumbledore, had written.
Dear Nicholas (and your always lovely wife),
"My, he certainly is always the charmer," Perenelle said with amusement, before they continued reading.
I trust you are both doing well and I deeply thank you for the socks you gave me for my birthday, and with arch-support, no less. I assume it was Perenelle who enchanted the goldfish to swim around at the ankles?
Alas, I am getting off topic. I apologize.
Back to what I wished to write to you about. Considering how you care for the Daily Prophet, but understand its slight usefulness, I will presume you have learned about recent events concerning the Potters, their son, and myself. If you have not, then by all means, stop reading my letter for a moment and glance at the cover of one of the articles I'm certain has recently been delivered to you in the past few days.
Nicholas paused, recalling the shock he had felt upon reading that his young, much younger, friend had recently taken on a charge, and had even gone as far as making him his heir. Oh, the Flamels certainly knew about recent events, and it had only been the desire to allow Albus and his charge time to adjust that had prevented them from contacting him themselves.
They went back to reading.
In light of all of that, I am sure you will be happy to learn Harry is settling in nicely, and Hogwarts is getting used to the young lad as well. However, I once again am going off topic. Minerva would no doubt blame it on my precious lemon drops she is always trying to warn me against. Sugar meddling with my brains, she says.
Anyway, I have come to a few conclusions and thoughts of late concerning something I believe would greatly benefit you and your wife. I know you have had qualms about taking on an apprentice, but I feel I must call attention to a promising young man.
I believe you may have heard of his name, but before I reveal it to you, allow me to tell you about him. His character is like no other I have ever encountered.
He is not perfect, but unlike most his age, he knows he is not and has made the decision to rectify any mistakes he may have made and desires nothing less than to do his best. He is an exceptional researcher, inventor, investigator, and student. He has a mind that is only his own, though he selects those he allows to help shape it.
He has a sense of loyalty Helga Hufflepuff would have revered and has an unquenchable desire to find answers. Along with all of this comes his bravery. He is braver than myself. The only thing he has in more abundance is his cunning, which I know you will quickly find respectable. I dare say he is more cunning than you, and you will understand why I feel I can say this when you meet him, and especially so when you get to know him.
He despises hand-outs, not only because he regards himself unworthy to receive much of anything, but also because he prides himself on earning things for himself. I have never met a man with such a large amount of pride coupled with such humility.
Although he is not the youngest soul I would trust my life to, he is one of the few people I would, and one of the very few I would trust my heir's life to.
I know, however you accept him as an apprentice, if you do, you will have found a man worthy of passing on your knowledge to and able to further your legacy.
I humbly and with great pride give you the name of this exceptional young man:
Severus Snape
If you have any questions concerning him, I will gladly answer them as best I can. The only thing I ask is for you to keep my involvement in all of this a closely guarded secret, especially from Severus. He would not feel he deserves my compliments and it would serve no purpose should he learn of my words.
I only wish to give him a chance at an opportunity. The rest is between you, your wife, and him.
Your Always Curious Lad,
Albus P.W.B. Dumbledore
Nicholas and Perenelle looked up from the letter and turned to each other.
And blinked.
"Perhaps we have been remiss in finding an heir to our research," Perenelle whispered.
"Perhaps."
O o O o O
Lucius' funeral was as ornate and gaudy as the man had been. Everyone wore their best dark colored clothes, the casket was carved with snakes, and Lucius himself was covered in a silver and gold embroidered cloth. Anna knew he would be impressed and happy. Whoever had arranged the funeral either knew the man personally or followed the tacky, overstated fashion that many purebloods followed.
Anna did not feel much emotion herself. Funerals never saddened her, since she had time to grieve beforehand. This was simply the final send off to the afterlife for Lucius. She could feel emotions from others, however. Though most were calm, and simply here as a duty to their house or name, there were a few who mourned, and more than a few who were glad.
Narcissa and Draco stood near the casket, and as everyone walked by, then grasped her hand or, if they were Malfoys, kissed her on the cheeks or grasped her in a hug. Anna noticed Draco's godfather, Severus Snape, in line just in front of her. He reached them and took Narcissa's hand in his. He did not speak, as was the custom at funerals. He glanced down, almost in apology before he kissed Narcissa on both cheeks. He released her and walked on past.
Anna kissed both Narcissa and Draco before bowing out of respect for their loss. She joined the circle of family that was forming near the runes. Her message to Lucius was simple and short. She would wish him all the best in the afterlife, whatever it may be. Narcissa would always be family, and family stuck together.
O o O o O
Jess and Don stood near the end of the line. Everyone was dressed in black, and no one spoke as they walked past the casket. There were no tears, no signs of emotion except a tightening of a chin here or a rapid blinking of the eyes there. Jess looked up at Don and, even through her black veil, noticed his clenched jaw. He remained as stoic as the rest of the crowd, though he spared a softer glance toward Jess when she lightly touched his arm.
They had reached the casket. A black shroud covered the body of Don's school friend, the one, in fact, who had brought him into the death eaters. Jess had known him, but not well, although she mourned for a life lost.
They walked past the casket and waited on the outskirts of the family group as the casket was covered and sealed with runes. Some of the runes would help the remains decay faster in order to return him to the earth, others were believed to send messages to the fallen in the afterlife. Whether this was true or not, it was a comfort to the mourners.
After the casket was lowered into the ground, the family gathered in a small circle to continue the funeral rites. The rest of the people left quietly, not even risking an apparation crack to disturb the silence.
Next Part: Examination
A/N: Insert words from authors' here [... Math Squigglies ...]
