It was Friday, the 11th ofMarch – exactly eight days until the designated legislative assembly date, and things weren't looking good. Malfoy, Nott, Lestrange and some other families of considerable influence had been pulling votes against the Custodarium bill – the purists would have voted against anyway just because of Harry and Tom's open pro-Muggle-born stance, but the same-sex couple issue gave them leverage to sway other non-purist-but-bigoted representatives on their side.
It was time to face the eventualities: If the bill wasn't passed, Custodarium's remits would be very restricted – they could only get custody if the previous legal guardian willingly transferred it to them, or if a child was left at their doorstep. Otherwise it would be up to whoever handled the orphan's case whether they placed the child in Custodarium instead of another (Muggle) facility.
That, they could hopefully work their way around; what really sucked was that Custodarium wouldn't be authorised to protect minors from their abusive families – they wouldn't have the right to keep children from their legal guardians. Harry was trying to stay positive, but…
"…and if you just remember this one concept, you can't have a problem with animal-to-animal transfigurations in your N.E.W.T.s. That will be all for today, good work and see you next week," said Dumbledore, concluding his lesson. Students began putting away their textbooks to head to lunch. The professor walked over to Harry's desk by the window and asked in a lower voice, " Mr. Potter, may I have a word?"
Harry gestured to his classmates to indicate he'd catch up with them later and waited for the professor to continue. There had been another Grindelwald attack in Hungary a few days ago, and Dumbledore, trying and failing to hide his misery (at least from Harry) over the last couple of months, always withered away a little more at such news. He was in his sixties and bound to live to at least one hundred and twenty, but he seemed to be ageing at least one year a week lately – maybe he'd age in advance from the strain and wait for time to catch up later?
The older wizard didn't say anything else until the other students cleared off the classroom. Instead, he went to the teacher's desk and retrieved something from the top drawer.
It was candy, in a classic Dumbledore fashion. He unwrapped one for himself and presented another to Harry. "Toffee Éclair?" he offered.
"No, sir, thank you," Harry declined politely. "What did you want to talk about?"
"Ah, straight to the point – I wonder, not for the first time, how you ended up in Horace's house instead of mine. Quite the loss, I'd say, I've only been hearing commendable things about you."
Harry didn't feel comfortable getting complimented, but he was glad to see Dumbledore's eyes still had their characteristic twinkle.
"Most notably, your generosity… If you don't mind an old man's nosiness, I couldn't quite put my finger on why you'd offer the extra space on your island for free – won't you need money to run your orphanage?"
"Er, we have enough savings to run it for a while, we just thought it would be nice if many people moved in," Harry explained gingerly.
Dumbledore nodded, "By all means, having a community is always nice… but I'm sure there were plots in Hogsmeade or other wizarding settlements available. Why choose a deserted island?"
Harry was beginning to understand what the professor had been up to, but since this was Dumbledore, the man who'd protected so many secrets over his long life, he thought it wouldn't hurt to be open with him.
"We've been hoping to start a new wizarding settlement in a safer location," he answered honestly.
Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up. "A safer location?"
"Yeah, more secluded from Muggles, easier to keep hidden. Muggle technology's been developing so fast, we're just worried it will become harder to protect the Statute of Secrecy in places like Diagon Alley," Harry explained, hoping the professor would take to it kindly.
Dumbledore kept his face thoughtful and neutral. "I see… You don't think confronting Muggles would be a good idea?"
"No! I think it would be a disaster!" Harry felt a small pang of dejection at the implication that Albus Dumbledore would suspect him of supremacism.
The professor gave him a genuine smile and chased the feeling away. "Thank you for your honesty, Mr. Potter, I think I understand perfectly now. I'll see what can be done for a certain bill you've no doubt been following closely – I believe I have a few favours to collect in the Wizengamot."
"Wow, um, thank you, Professor!" Harry stammered quickly, taken by surprise at the open support and the surge of nostalgic affection for the man who'd been like a grandfather to him in his original timeline.
"Oh no, Mr. Potter… Harry, if I may. I should be thanking you for succeeding where I couldn't." His smile stayed, but his face suddenly appeared forlorn, his gaze distant. "Many years ago, I couldn't save a friend," he started, the small hesitation before the word "friend" making Harry wonder if they had more in common in terms of relationships with budding dark lords than he'd previously thought.
"A very bright wizard, but with too much darkness in his heart. I must admit, as I got to know Mr. Riddle more, I was afraid I'd be forced to watch the history repeat itself… I'm very glad to see I was wrong."
Well, Harry was literally watching the past repeat itself, and bugger, he wanted to give Dumbledore a hug so badly. It would be weird, wouldn't it? He just couldn't help but remember the fragile old man from the Inferi cave, still haunted by the shadows of his past, and wish there was something, anything, he could do to prevent Dumbledore from becoming like that.
He would probably regret his words later, but he had to try.
"I'm sorry it was too late for your friend, Professor, I…I know what that's like. Sometimes we can't save a loved one no matter how hard we wish we could, and sometimes the best thing we can do for them is to stand up to them, isn't it? Beating yourself up wouldn't do any good," Harry said, phrasing his thoughts carefully not to rise suspicion but sincerely, praying it didn't come out wrong.
Dumbledore's smile slipped off his face completely, his expression grew serious and pensive. He turned away to look out of the window instead, absently gazing at something in the distance.
"Indeed…" he mumbled, then cleared his throat and continued in a louder voice. "I shall not waste any more of your time, Harry… In fact, I just remembered I have somewhere to be as well."
Harry had a feeling he wasn't referring to lunch and suddenly grew worried he'd disrupted one of the good bits of the timeline, but the damage was done.
"Oh. Sure." He made for the door, but he stopped with a hand on the handle. "Um, I know this will sound strange, but if you ever need anything, or just, you know, talk, I'll be happy to help."
Merlin, it sounded even weirded now that he'd said it – this was a student reaching out to a professor forty years his senior, whom he didn't even have a close relationship with, but Harry really needed to say it.
Dumbledore turned to look at him again, eyes shining and voice filled with unusual solemnity as he said, "Thank you."
Harry just nodded and slipped out of the door, heart leaping and aching at the same time.
Tom was waiting for him by the classroom door.
"What did he want?"
"He… asked some questions and offered his support of the bill. He just needed to be sure about our intentions, I guess," Harry smiled, at last remembering to be happy about the turn of events.
Tom frowned. "And you told him explicitly?"
"Yeah… I mean, it's Dumbledore, he's on our side."
Tom hummed noncommittally in response – not something Harry was used to from him.
"You don't like him much, do you?" he asked as they started walking to the Charms classroom.
"No, I can't say I do," Tom admitted.
Why though? Since the Chamber of Secrets fiasco hadn't come to pass and Dumbledore hadn't refused Tom the position of Defence professor, Tom shouldn't have had much of a problem with the professor yet. Except maybe…
"Because he knows… how you were before you came here?"
Tom pondered his answer for a moment. "That, too," he said eventually, "I made it a point to make everyone like me, all the staff and the students, but Dumbledore always gave me the chills, like he never fell for it. I was also bitter with him, because I thought at first that he would take me to the wizarding world and never send me back to that Muggle place… but he didn't say anything to help me, not even when the bombings began.
"Instead, he talked to me privately during the first few years, asking pointless questions and going on about love, friendship, light and dark…
"That's my main problem with him: I hate hypocricy." Tom's frown deepened uncharacteristically for his usually measured self – he must have felt exceptionally strongly about this matter, Harty thought. "He acts like he's Godric Gryfiindor himself, preaching righteousness, valour and all that nonsense, condemns the war in Europe, but when the whole world begs him to stand up to Grindelwald, he stalls like a fucking coward while dozens of others die."
Harry gave him a sympathetic look. He could see where Tom was coming from – twisted as Lord Voldemort's beliefs were, he had to give it to him that he'd pursued them relentlessly, unlike Dumbledore who rarely interferred directly.
"After what we've had… could you fight me, if I did something you hated? To death?" Harry asked softly.
Tom met his eyes, obviously confused. "What?"
"Just answer."
"No," he said, "Maybe… I don't know, it's hard to imagine." Then he inhaled sharply. "Wait, are you suggesting that Dumbledore and…"
Harry quickly checked their surroundings for any accidental witnesses, then nodded. "I'm pretty sure they used to be… like us, or at least very close friends. They went their separate ways after a terrible accident, it has a lot to do with why Professor Dumbledore has been avoiding the re-encounter. I can only imagine how hard this must be on him, so," Harry looked at Tom pleadingly, "don't hate him too much, yeah?"
Tom processed the new information silently for a few moments.
"I love you," he said so seriously and out of the blue it startled Harry – Tom normally wasn't one for spontaneous declarations of affection, less still in public. "You're the most noble goddamn person I've ever met, and I normally hate that in people, but not in you… you're perfect like that."
Harry felt a happy kind of blush creep up his neck and wondered if he could get away with a kiss, now that everyone knew anyway. Not wanting to risk more trouble for them, he snaked his fingers through Tom's instead.
"You know, he actually thanked me for getting through to you. I think he cares, he just didn't know how best to help."
He squeezed Tom's hand, then let go, feeling a bit too exposed and out of the place. This would take some getting used to, or perhaps he simply wasn't the type for public displays of affection either.
xXx
Dumbledore arrived at lunch late and with a pensive expression. More worryingly, he hadn't shown up for dinner or any of Saturday's meals at all.
Harry was growing very anxious. What if he'd gone after Grindelwald and lost? The famous duel was meant to happen in June, he remembered that much from his History of Magic O.W.L. materials and Rita Skeeter's blasted book, but he had no idea how much had Dumbledore been involved in the war prior to that.
"Hey," Tom's soothing voice snapped him out of his musing as he snatched Harry's Charms textbook out of his hands and dropped it on the bedside table. They had the room to themselves, Harry realised – last he'd known, Dalamar was still sitting at his desk.
"You haven't turned the page for at least half an hour," Tom observed as he sat down beside Harry and pulled him against his side. His body heat and the light smell of his cologne were two Harry's favourite things on Earth, he quickly found himself relaxing into him, though the knot in his stomach was still perceptible.
He rubbed his eyes with his fingers tiredly, noticing his head was starting to hurt, too. "Merlin, I'm such an idiot," he sighed. "I just wanted to comfort him a bit! What if he gets hurt because I couldn't keep my mouth shut, or worse…"
And wouldn't that make his little "sometimes we can't save a loved one" speech morbidly true?
"He won't," Tom assured him.
Harry shook his head. "You don't know that."
"No, I don't, I was trying to comfort you for a change."
Harry snorted humourlessly, "Now we just need Dumbledore to comfort you and we'll go a full circle."
He was half expecting an indignant counter, but Tom merely burried his face in Harry's mess of a hair and laid a light kiss there. "See, he can't lose, he has a circle to close."
The warm intimity of that gesture finally managed to make Harry feel a little calmer.
"Besides, we could beat Grindelwald ourselves, if it came to it. Just imagine: 'the most terrible Dark Lord in history, Marmot Dildo Lover, and his famous defeater, Harry Poofter, join forces'; Grindelwald wouldn't stand a chance."
Harry laughed almost involuntarily, "You're bloody impossible! There's so much wrong with that joke, I can't even begin to name it!"
"There's absolutely nothing wrong with it as long as it makes you laugh," Tom retorted smugly and leant sideways to kiss Harry on the lips – undeniably the most effective means of distraction.