"We found something," Harry told Dumbledore's portrait excitedly the next day. "Well, sort of."
"There's definitely something there," Hermione nodded, "only we can't find what it is."
"Well, now that does come as some surprise," replied Dumbledore, looking over his spectacles thoughtfully at the trio, from his position on the wall. "If what you've found is a Horcrux.... Well, it would surprise me very much if chose to honour with a piece of his soul the place that brought him such misery."
"We know what we felt," said Harry, determined. The other two murmured their agreement. "Muggles can feel it! They say it's haunted. Maybe it's not a Horcrux, but whatever it is, it's worth checking out."
"Perhaps you're correct," said Dumbledore, "But it does surprise me. In any case, I would much prefer the three of you didn't chase it quite yet. You are not yet equipped to destroy a Horcrux, and any Horcruxes you find will be well protected. Your mission should simply be to gather information, find clues, something you are doing far better than I could have imagined."
"But sir," cried Ron, angry, "you just want us to sit around? How much better equipped are we going to be?"
"Mr Weasley," Dumbledore began, his eyes twinkling over his half-moon spectacles, "you have no idea. Now, please excuse the abrupt request, but I must ask yourself and Ms Granger to kindly leave the room. I have something I must discuss with Mr Potter in absolute privacy."
"Professor Dumbledore," objected Harry, "where Ron and Hermione are concerned, I have no secrets."
"Yes, yes, quite," said the portrait, as Ron and Hermione looked touched, "but I'm afraid I must insist." He smiled kindly. "You of course have permission to relay the conversation afterwards if you so choose."
Harry objected again, but the portrait was not to be moved, so eventually Ron and Hermione shuffled out. It was not until their footsteps were heard climbing the stairs that Dumbledore's portrait began to speak.
"I apologise, Harry, but this is of vital importance. Do apologise on my behalf to Ms Granger and Mr Weasley when we are done too, if you would be so kind."
"I wouldn't worry," replied Harry, a grin tugging at his features, "I think they're secretly quite glad of the time alone."
"How do you...." began Dumbledore, before his eyes widened and a smile blossomed on his face. "Ah, so it finally happened. I must say, I have been wondering."
"I think everybody has," laughed Harry.
There was a moment of happy silence, before Dumbledore shifted forward in his frame.
"Now, since our little chat yesterday, I have had the opportunity to confirm the progress of your.... gift. Now that I am sure there will be no more delays, I feel like I can reveal to you exactly what I have in store.
"You are a very young wizard Harry, too young. It has been troubling me, ever since Voldemort returned. The prophecy, when I heard it, well, I didn't picture a boy of 17. When Voldemort returned at the end of your fourth year, it didn't seem right. It was... premature. Time was suddenly against us. I divided my energy between ensuring your safety, fulfilling my duties as Headmaster, exploring Tom's past, and trying to find a way to buy us some time.
"And then, about 18 months ago, I rediscovered an ancient, legendary and largely forgotten piece of magic I had come across in my studies many years ago. It wasn't perfect, and I realised huge sacrifices would have to be made, but it was our best shot, so I began preparing. Yes, 18 months of preparation. I assure you, it was necessary. Research, mainly. I had to study the most ancient of ancient runes, the most legendary of wizards, Merlin in particular, and delve into the very nature of magic itself."
Harry sat quietly as he listened to the portrait. This all seemed very well, but it was going over his head a bit.
"Harry," continued the portrait, "what I'm talking about is a way of fitting over seven years of living, breathing experience into three days. There is a realm, a world, a plane, a set of dimensions, whatever you'd like to call it, which is separate to this one. In fact it is one of uncountably many, though the physical laws are identical in most ways, allowing it to harbour the consciousness of a human individual. The vast, vast majority of these other realms are devoid of anything, their laws being unsuitable for the sustenance of energy in any state recognisable to us. At least, that is what is theorised. But, the realm we're interested in is rather like our world, uncommonly so, even. According to ancient publications on the matter, this realm possesses one quality which makes it perfect for our uses: time does not move nearly as quickly. Well, it is more complicated than that, time is a tricky concept, but from the perspective of one moving between the two realms, and for the purposes of an easy explanation, one hour here equates to roughly 880 hours in the realm. It is also, as it happens, more responsive to magic, but that is merely a bonus.
"Harry, it is my great desire for you to visit this realm. It will provide a fantastic opportunity for you to train, to develop the skills you will need to destroy Voldemort once and for all. Your body will stay in this world, unconscious but alive, which is why I would not want you to stay any longer than three days, while your consciousness will travel to the other realm. The gift I have arranged for you will allow you to get there."
Harry was silent. In a matter of moments, he had gone from wondering which memory he should explore next, how best to explore the orphanage, and what to do for lunch, to whether or not he wanted to explore an entirely new realm, a new existence, something unimaginable to most. And train. Training would be good. He'd been having the exact same reservations Dumbledore had, but hadn't quite realised it until it had been put into words.
"So, uh, did you say seven.... seven years?" asked Harry tentatively, still not quite sure what to make of all this.
"Yes, Harry. I know, it's a long time, but that is precisely why it will be so useful."
"And... I'll be able to train?"
"Yes, Harry," replied the portrait patiently.
"Who will train me?" asked Harry, confused. "Will anybody else come with me? What about Ron and Hermione?"
"I'm afraid Mr Weasley and Ms Granger will not be able to accompany you," replied Dumbledore, knowing this would be the most difficult part for Harry to overcome. "I'm sorry, but it is not possible."
"So, I'll be alone?" he asked, digesting this information.
"Not at all," replied the portrait with a gentle smile. "You will have a guide. It has been arranged. You will also have an almost unlimited source of information."
"A what?"
"It's a tome. You will see. An artefact of myth and legend, but also one of reality, that exists in this other realm. It will be of great use to you."
Questions were burning inside Harry as he heard this, and he felt a deep desire stirring within to learn, to experience such legendary magic, to grow. His eyes glinted with excitement at the opportunity, but before he could start asking questions, Dumbledore's portrait continued.
"I do not need an answer now, Harry, but please do not ask more about what I have told you. I have told you all I can for now. The only cost, though a great one, will be the time spent away from this world. While for us here, your absence will be fleeting, a mere matter of three days, to you it will seem unimaginably long. You will not be alone, you will not be bored, but it will be intense, stressful, and terribly lonely. One man's company in a largely empty world for seven years is not ideal, but it is the best I can do."
They shared a moment of silence. For Harry, the full implications of going through with this were still sinking in.
"It will be hard, Harry. I hope you will agree, but I could not possibly force you. Now, that will be all. Please think about it, and discuss it with Mr Weasley and Ms Granger if you wish."
With that, the portrait leant back in his chair, offering nothing more but a sad smile.
"Blimey," breathed Ron after Harry relayed what Dumbledore's portrait had told him. "That would be amazing! You should do it! Imagine how much more powerful you'd be, in just three days!"
"Oh, I'm so jealous, that tome sounds fantastic!" added Hermione, wide-eyed.
"But..." Harry trailed off. He hadn't expected his friends to be so excited about it. Harry was excited about the idea of getting stronger, but by far the most dominant emotion was the daunting thought of 7 years alone, or with some stranger, without his friends to lean on, laugh with, spend time with. And would he age? Would he come back a man in his mid twenties? He figured not, since his body apparently stayed in this world, but these thoughts were spinning around his head so fast that he didn't know what he thought, what he wanted, and whether he was being ridiculous by hesitating.
"Harry, you should be thrilled," continued Hermione, patting him on the shoulder as Ron nodded in agreement. "You'll learn so much, and you'll take V-Voldemort by surprise, and you'll have done something most people wouldn't have even dreamed possible! It's incredible! It's too good to be true!"
"Yeah, I guess," mumbled Harry, troubled. He simply couldn't share his friends' enthusiasm, and it bothered him. He decided he didn't want to talk about it any more.
"Well, do you want to look through more memories?" suggested Harry, changing the subject.
"Yeah, sure," answered a frowning Ron. Hermione wore an unreadable expression, but fetched the Pensieve. The rest of the morning was spent on Pensieve, but once again, despite Harry's frustration, Hermione's disappointment and Ron's eternal optimism, they achieved very little.
Harry didn't sleep that night. A kind of giddy nervousness had overcome him, the weight of the decision hanging over his head too unbelievable to seem anything but a joke. But behind this giddiness, as dawn broke through his window, resolve was forming. On the one hand, he could take the biggest step towards defeating Voldemort he ever had, or ever could, and indulge in a once in a lifetime experience almost certainy unrivalled by any living person today. This was what was causing the giddiness, keeping him on the verge of excited, almost manic laughter, a sensation Harry, when he detached himself, found amusing itself. On the other hand, he would have to say goodbye to his friends for seven whole years. Hadn't Dumbledore said love was his greatest weapon? The weapon that would finally defeat Voldemort? Surely, to abandon the companionship of his friends was to abandon his love for them. And what about Dumbledore simply thrusting this upon him? It was obvious that Dumbledore expected him to say "yes", whatever his portrait said.
You don't spend 18 months preparing something just to go off and die and hope that the person you've done it for won't mind 7 years of torturous solitude, Harry thought bitterly. And then to say I can't ask questions!
Harry's rebellious streak was stirring. Fuelled by frustration at their lack of progress, their lack of ideas, and ironically, though Harry failed to see it at the time, their lack of experience, Harry decided he didn't want to be a slave to Dumbledore's whims any longer. As far as Harry was concerned, he had been handed this responsibility, it was his choice what to do with it. And his choice was rapidly becoming clear.
"I don't want to do this," whispered Harry softly, as the the first quiet chirrups of birds woken by the breaking dawn floated through Harry's window. And with that, a sudden coldness fell over the thought of that other realm, that dark, lonely, lifeless place, sweeping away any grand ideas he'd had of it, replaced with a simple contentment. He was making the right decision. He was in control.
Harry closed his eyes, and was asleep within seconds.