Chapter ten: A Grim Old story and biscuits

Harry had just about settled down at Grimmauld Place when Dumbledore came to see him. Because of Dumbledore's increased workload at the ministry of magic Harry had known that the old wizard would be unable to continue on as headmaster. Apparently this meant that when Dumbledore said he had a fair amount of things to tell Harry, things that couldn't be left unsaid, they had to go through it all before September first.

"Good evening Harry. I hope you've settled down all right?"

"Good evening sir. Yes, well it is a bit strange without Sirius but, yeah, I suppose I have, thank you."

"So Harry" Dumbledore said changing his friendly tone to a more businesslike one "we are going to spend quite some time together these next few days. Alas, it must be done, though it is hardly enough for what I need to tell you." He paused peering at Harry through his glasses as if looking to see if he was ready to listen properly. Whatever it was he was looking for, he seemed to have found because next thing Harry knew it was eight in the morning and he was lying on the sofa in the library, where he had met with Dumbledore, with a blanket covering him and the feeling that he would have to have a nice long chat with Voldemort before school started. He thought back on yesterday's conversation and hoped that this was one of those big mistakes Dumbledore had claimed he'd made:

"While I did tell you everything I know about you and Voldemort last term, there is a lot I think could be true that you should be aware of and consider before anything else happens." Dumbledore gazed at him sorrowfully.

"Think? Er… sir."

"Yes, think. I could be woefully wrong, indeed I hope I am, however I don't think I am and therefore I have decided to share with you my guesswork I suppose you could say."

From that point until about three a.m. or so Dumbledore had told and showed Harry, through the means of a pensive, Voldemort's degeneration and early childhood. Some of it Harry recognised, and he was hard-pressed not to give it away, and some of it he didn't. It made him feel quite uncomfortable to hear such details about his friend from Dumbledore. At the same time he couldn't decide if the ex-headmaster pitied Voldemort or was being utterly fascinated by him. No matter which was true he couldn't help but snort in amusement when Dumbledore compared him to a magpie.

The strange conversation occupied much of Harry's thoughts the next morning until he saw Dumbledore again that afternoon. The thoughts buzzed around in his head and he realised that the worst was yet to come; this was not a story of a child being mean and strangely aware of his magic. There was something more sinister lurking behind Dumbledore's words and Harry felt uncomfortable knowing that he couldn't get a confirmation or a denial from Voldemort straight away. He didn't want the trust that had risen between them to crumble because of something Dumbledore said. The most disconcerting thing was that during Harry's time in the wizarding world it was not uncommon that Dumbledore was right, annoyingly often. But even so, Dumbledore and Harry continued their talks from afternoon until early morning when Harry practically fell asleep. Several days went on like this until one morning when Harry emerged from the pensive and noticed that he was not the only one who got exhausted by these discussions:

Harry stood from the sofa and brought with him the quilt that hung over the back of it over to where Dumbledore was sitting with his hands clasped. He took a moment to regard Dumbledore quietly. His age was clearer than ever and he looked troubled even in the mists of sleep. His hands though otherwise healthy was covered with age-spots and looked thin and fragile. Usually Dumbledore's clear and lively blue eyes helped cover up these signs of age but as he was asleep the only thing that looked happy and healthy was his silvery white beard. Harry stopped his musings as Dumbledore let out a sigh and tucked the quilt around him. He smiled a sad and slightly bitter smile as he realised he would miss Dumbledore terribly after he died but then he turned and walked off to bed without looking back even once.

Several days later Harry realised that he had spent over a week being concerned with the things Dumbledore had told and showed him while ignoring his friends completely and so the next day whilst Dumbledore took care of some ministry business Harry went off to search for Ron and Hermione. He found them in the room Hermione and Ginny shared. Ron and Ginny were playing chess whilst Hermione sat on her bed reading some tome on something and something else. The tome was big and looked heavy. In conclusion: Hermione's usual light reading.

"Hey guys." he greeted them with a tired smile.

"Harry!" three voices said in a chorus. "Is everything alright?" Hermione asked.

"Well, as much as it can be I suppose." He gave another tired smile before he continued. "But enough about that. It's been awhile since we did something together so I thought we could bake some biscuits!" he finished his statement with an obviously false cheerful voice.

Ron gave him a strange look, as did Hermione and Ginny for that matter.

"But seriously I think we should. It could be fun and besides since when have you been able to resist anything eatable Ron?" Harry said.

"Well yeah, but have you forgotten we're not allowed to use magic?" Ron asked.

"Why would we use magic? We're doing it the muggle way!" Harry grinned as he saw their shocked faces. Well Ron and Ginny's anyway. Hermione just gave him a look that said 'we'll talk later mister'.

A couple of days later Dumbledore and Harry met one last time:

"Before I say goodbye and wish you good look with the new school year there is something more I want to speak with you about." Dumbledore said after what was their last chat about Voldemort. "I have noticed that you have become more comfortable with your magic lately and I found myself wondering if anyone has taken the time to discuss with you wizard inclinations towards magic lately. Have they?"

"Ah no, but I'm not entirely unfamiliar with the concept." Harry answered although Voldemort had discussed it with him. Dumbledore looked at him expectantly so he continued: "I know that every wizard has an inclination towards one or more areas of magic, something that they have an easier time to learn and are naturally better at than others without the same inclination."

"Well said my boy, couldn't have said it better myself. These areas of magic are a bit extensive that most care to admit though. Most prefer to neglect to think of the fact that it is not only transfiguration and charms and such one can be predisposed. Indeed inclinations towards magic of the darker kind regularly occur. That is not to say that every wizard with this darker inclination is bad. It is maybe not widely known but Grindelwald was a very close friend of mine when I was younger. He had this inclination but I can with certainty say that it was not the reason for his ambition to become a dark lord." Dumbledore sat silent for a moment with his eyes clouded over and mind focused on some distant memory.

"Sir, are you alright?" Harry said carefully.

"Thank you for your concern Harry. Alas you gather quite some memories when you live as long as I have been allowed to. But my past is not the reason why I brought this up. I just wanted to speak with you because I recognise the same inclination that Grindelwald had coming from yourself and I just wanted to reassure you that no matter what anybody insinuate it does not mean that you're evil when in fact it is this inclination that makes you so excellent at Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Harry nodded and assured him that he would keep it in mind. Then they said goodbye and Harry went off to find Ron and Hermione to see if they had killed each other yet. And to see if their latest batch of biscuits had managed to survive Ron's stomach.