A few more answers in this chapter! Not the complete backstory (that will come hopefully next chapter), but a start. Let me know what you think!

"How are you feeling, Harry?"

They walked slowly, the tall, thin headmaster beside the dark-haired boy, the former reaching out to steady the latter or murmur a charm of comfort when the boy swayed or stopped and a shadow passed over his face. Sometimes it was gone a moment later, sometimes it lingered for a moment, but always the headmaster's brow furrowed as he watched the child endure what he couldn't heal.

"A little better, sir."

"Is the pain more manageable?"

Harry hesitated. "It's better than the numbness, but…I can't always tell if it's real or…just in my head."

"Phantom pain. Your body only needs a little more time to get used to a new pain equilibrium."

This was his first time out on the Hogwarts grounds, the first time he walked on his own. It felt good, the sensation of is legs tensing and releasing each step, supporting his weight, if not strong then at least unbroken. Being at Hogwarts helped his spirits, and the castle itself seemed to be willing him to heal, but his body seemed reluctant to return to full health.

"I wanted to talk to you about a few things, Harry, but before I begin, I thought you might have a few questions for me."

They walked the length of a bush before Harry answered. "Two questions, sir. I think there's a gap in my memory, when Professor Snape was…questioning me."

Harry glanced up at Dumbledore and saw his face darken for a moment. "I will speak to Professor Snape about it. I believe the memory should be returned to you if you wish, but Professor Snape was rather clumsy in his hurry, so it is not as simple as it should be. When you are a little more recovered, we can try to restore it."

Harry nodded. "My second question is a little more personal. Is that okay?"

"Ask away."

"When I was sort of…separate from my body…er, I don't know—"

"I understand, Harry. Please continue."

"When I was about to…leave, I saw….you were in so much pain, sir."

"I thought you were dead, Harry," said Dumbledore gently, then reached out a hand to Harry's shoulder as the boy suddenly stopped and winced as a wave of pain swept through him.

"I'd thought about that," Harry continued when the pain had passed. "But there were…layers to it. Like something—a lot of things—were attacking you from inside."

Dumbledore hesitated, searching for the right way to respond, struggling with the eternally delicate balance between how much truth to give and how much to conceal.

"It scared me, sir."

"I can't know exactly what you saw, Harry, but there are two likely possibilities, besides the obvious one of seeing you die, or believing I had.

"First: I've done things, Harry, mostly in my youth, though that is no excuse, out of foolishness, vanity, and a multitude of other shortcomings. They're always with me, the things I've done."

Harry remained respectfully quiet as Dumbledore continued. "Death, failure, shame…they don't add each time, but rather multiply. When I saw you, dead for all outward evidence, I felt the full force of that loss, but I also felt…" Dumbledore's voice wavered as his mind wandered to where he never let it go. He felt a hand on his elbow, light and shy, but comforting. The two stopped, and Dumbledore turned to face Harry properly; if he were to confess, there would be no half-hearted effort at it. "My sister all but died by my own hand. My parents might have lived if I had been better—protected them, acted less rashly, thought less of my own interests and ambition. And yet I was too cowardly, too vain, to learn from their terrible, involuntary sacrifice…and I will never know how many died during Grindlewald's reign because I was too afraid to step in sooner." He glanced away instinctively as tears stung the edges of his eyes.

"Professor…" Harry began hesitantly, and Dumbledore recovered himself enough to look back at the boy. There was no judgement in his eyes, only sympathy, respect, and love.

Dumbledore shook his head, more pained by Harry's compassion than he would have been by scorn. "I deserve every burden I carry; you, Harry, deserve none of the many you bear."

The two walked on in silence for a beat, then Harry prompted the headmaster respectfully, "And the third thing I might have seen?"

"Ah, yes. That is something I meant to explain to you today in any case. First, a confession—my second, really. When we rescued you, Voldemort, of course, put up a fight. We dueled. I was too slow for a moment and was hit by a curse that is normally fatal."

Harry jerked to a stop and stared at the headmaster in horror. "You—what? No."

Dumbledore held up a hand. "I am in no danger now whatsoever, Harry."

Harry's look of fear remained, and Dumbledore added firmly, "I promise."

Harry nodded, mildly relieved, then grew suddenly pale and swayed. Dumbledore held him until the episode passed. Harry nodded his thanks and they continued along the grove.

"I have you to thank for my survival."

"How?"

"You survived the killing curse when you were born because your mother sacrificed herself to save you. The curse aimed at me was conquered by a similar force, and, like that scar on your forehead, a trace of the curse lingered. It is not the same; the trace is only visible to those who were in the…state that were in, but it is similar."

"How did you survive?" Harry thought he knew the answer, but he remained quiet at Dumbledore continued.

"You gave yourself up." Dumbledore's voice was grave, almost haunted, and Harry kept his eyes on the ground before him.

"When we were surrounded, you stepped out of the circle of protection I'd drawn knowing what Voldemort would do to you, and you did so because you knew I could not fight them all, Voldemort and his followers. I would have died.

"The curse with which Voldemort hit me a week later was broken by love, like his Avada Kedavra all those years ago. And I want to thank you, Harry," Dumbledore turned to face his student properly and rested his hands on the child's shoulders, "for saving my life."

Harry replied half-jokingly, "I guess I only owe you a few dozen, sir."

Dumbledore did not smile. "That brings me to my next point, Harry. It is my job to protect you, not the other way around. I want your solemn word that you will never put yourself in danger for my sake again."

"But, sir—"

"No, Harry," interrupted Dumbledore, deadly serious. "I understand that you would be hurt if I were to die—you already know exactly how I'd feel if you did. But this goes beyond that; you need to survive."

Harry glanced down and Dumbledore added more gently. "I'm old, Harry. Over a hundred, if you want to know. You are young."

Harry remained silent.

"Your word."

Harry still didn't speak, and Dumbledore brought a hand to the boy's face. "Harry, look at me."

Reluctantly, Harry raised his eyes, and the piercing blue met the bright green. "I cannot watch you die again. I will not. It is my job to keep you alive; you have to trust me to protect myself."

"But you just told me you were going to die!" Burst out Harry.

Dumbledore let his hand fall and said simply, keeping eye contact with Harry. "You will have to face that one day—losing me."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Dumbledore cut across. "Harry, I know every argument you might make. This is not up for discussion."

Harry hesitated, meeting Dumbledore's piercing gaze with difficulty. Finally, he said quietly, "I promise."

Dumbledore nodded, satisfied. "Good. If you are up to it, I have one more question I'd like to ask you."

"Sir?"

"How did you survive? Professor Snape mentioned, when we first rescued you, that Voldemort was convinced you had to…ask to die in order for him to kill you."

Harry considered his words carefully. "It was…almost accidental. He was invading my mind, going through my memories…" He trailed off,

Dumbledore frowned. "Harry, if you're not ready for this—"

"No, sir, I'll be fine," replied Harry quickly, shaking himself out of his reverie. "It was during one of those…invasions; everything was so fractured, I couldn't really tell where…or who…I was. Somewhere in there, I remembered what you said—"stay alive"—so I planted the first thing I could think of: I had to ask him to kill me for it to work…otherwise, the same thing would happen as when he tried to kill me as a baby. Probably not the best thing I could have tried…"

Harry pushed away the memories of that awful week and focused on the headmaster's words.

"I am not sorry you did that, if it meant your survival, but I cannot tell you how much I regret your having to suffer what you did. I am, however, surprised it worked. It seems there is more to your connection with Voldemort than I understood."

The two continued walking for a time. Harry could see Dumbledore appraising him, and he finally broke the silence. "Was there something else, sir?"

"Yes…one more thing…"

Harry felt his stomach tighten with dread at Dumbledore's expression.

"Yes, sir?"

"The matter of the Dursleys…"

Harry stopped and stared intently at the ground. He felt Dumbledore's hand resting firmly on his shoulder.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"The problem is, rather, that you can't think about it. I do not ask that you deal with this today—we have covered enough heavy topics already—but I will not let this go, Harry. You deserve better."

"What has to be done?"

"There are legal steps that I, or others, can take to remove you from your relatives' care."

"My mother's protection—"

"You will soon have been gone from their house for a year, so Voldemort has, unintentionally, of course, forced my hand in this. The blood wards will fall at the end of August. I was not planning on letting you return to the Dursley's in any case, even in a much improved condition from how you are at present, but this…new information makes that absolute. You will not return there."

"So…that's it?"

"I'm afraid not, Harry. I will not pretend that it will be easy, but it is possible." Dumbledore gave him a searching look. "But today, I think, is not the ideal time to go into the details."

Harry gave a wry smile in agreement.

"We can continue walking if you feel up to it, but if you would prefer to return to the castle..."

"Can we walk back towards the castle? I'm a little tired."

"Of course."

As Harry and Dumbledore retraced their steps through the garden, their conversation turned towards lighter subjects, and a smile flitted across both weary faces more than once before the two entered the castle's protective walls.

Next chapter will come soon! And I promise that all loose ends will be tied up before the story finishes. Let me know what questions you most want answered or any other thoughts on this or previous chapters!