The promises we make

Smell of wet grass… Need to get… out of here. Why is my body so heavy? What's that red thing under me? It's going to stain my clothes. Need to rest.

'No, I don't want to go to the Quidditch World Cup, I need to sleep Ron.'

Why is my navel itching? Where are we?

'Oh, the ground is rocking so hard I should have told Sirius Firewhiskey wasn't a good idea.'

But it's so comfortable here. What's this white and soft texture? Can I use it as a blanket?

And then darkness seized him.

When he opened his eyes, he remained still in the softness of his bed. The ceiling was red. He smiled. It had all been a bad dream! He was still at Hogwarts and in a few minutes, he would be the Great Hall having breakfast with his friends!

He tried to sit but a strong burn in his left shoulder sent a wave of pain in his body. And with it the reality hit him like a hammer. He hadn't dreamt at all.

But then… Where was he? As he was looking for his glasses, he heard a peaceful voice that he could have recognized among a thousand coming from the other side of the room.

'Good morning, Harry. I trust you had a good sleep?'

Dumbledore was looking at him calmly. A few months ago, Harry would have felt the urge to tear this face off. A few days ago, he would have tried to flee as far away as possible. But on this sunny morning of March, he felt nothing but relief. His entire system was at peace.

He was with Dumbledore.

He was safe.

'The storm,' mumbled Harry, 'was it you?'

'It was, indeed, my dear boy. A few minutes before the Aurors attack, I was at Hogwarts when I received a message from Shacklebolt with interesting information concerning you. I won't hide the relief I felt when I finally heard about you after all this time,' he looked at Harry above his half moon shaped glass with a little smile and Harry felt shame starting to burn his cheeks. 'As soon as I was informed about your whereabouts and the Ministry plan, I immediately leaped into action. When I arrived, I saw from the distance four Aurors looking rather distraught and wet, but I quickly spotted your magical trail. You were deeply wounded and being chased. I had no time to lose.'

Dumbledore had said everything in his usual calm and composed voice. But Harry was used to hiding emotions. Especially strong ones. Dumbledore had been afraid.

'Did I fall off my broom?' Harry asked, suddenly anxious for his Firebolt.

'You did,' replied Dumbledore. 'But I managed to catch you in time. I remember quite a good training on this matter in conditions that were almost the same three years ago. But this time, I was better,' he smiled while pointing towards the precious broomstick standing on a cupboard near the wall.

Harry let out a deep breath and tried to sit very slowly. He passed his hand under his shirt to check his wound. It had been freshly bandaged.

'Thank you, Sir,' he whispered.

'Don't mention it, Harry.'

Harry fell silent, looking away from the piercing blue eyes. He didn't know what to say. He had never thought he would meet the old wizard ever again. His throat tightened a bit.

'Why did you come for me? Were you looking for me?' He finally asked.

'Would you have wanted me to?'

Harry didn't have any answer to this question as he didn't know it.

Dumbledore put his elbows on his knees and leaned forward.

'I have failed you considerably over the past years. First by letting you in an unsuitable family when you were only an infant, and then by postponing telling you the truth.'

'The Prophecy?' Asked Harry. If only Dumbledore knew this Prophecy was the least of his worries.

'You never deserved to be manipulated, however good my intentions were,' replied Dumbledore while nodding. 'I cared so much about you, I thought I had been sparing you. As every year I failed to protect you properly, I never found the right time to tell you about all this.' He sighed. 'Therefore, when you left Hogwarts, if I first thought about going after you, I knew it wasn't my place anymore.'

Harry withstood the blue gaze of his Headmaster. He could see the remorse that had been eating away at Dumbledore.

'You grew a lot, Harry,' said the Headmaster in a low voice. 'I wish I could have witnessed it but when I realised, it was too late. When I saw you leave Hogwarts grounds, I was left with the only option to respect your choice. I had forfeited every right on all the other options because of my behaviour.'

Harry realised Dumbledore had been aware he was hiding something back in Hogwarts. How wide had the rift between them two grown so he couldn't even trust the old wizard's wisdom anymore?

'So, what are you going to do now?' Asked Harry, trying to ignore the growing pain in his throat.

'I am going to enjoy the relief of knowing you are safe for the time being,' replied Dumbledore while standing up to approach the window.

'I meant about me, Sir.'

'Do you want me to do something about you?' Asked Dumbledore, turning his gaze towards Harry.

'Tell him about the Horcruxes,' said a voice in Harry's head. 'Tell him you're going to die. Tell him how afraid you are…'

'I.. It's just I hadn't really planned meeting you again… Sir,' whispered Harry.

'Meeting me again before what?' Asked Dumbledore, approaching the bed this time.

'You stupid little fool!' Said the voice in Harry's head. 'What's the point of hiding what you know if you can't even do it properly.'

There was so much confusion in Harry's eyes, Dumbledore almost regretted his question.

'You're hiding something, Harry,' he said softly. 'I will never force you to reveal what this is to me, but I just want to remind you of the promise I made before Christmas.'

Harry nodded. If he talked he wasn't quite sure of the sound he would make, and crying wasn't an option.

Dumbledore smiled gently.

'I'll leave you alone now Harry,' he finally said. His eyes were so bright. 'If you need anything just call and I'll be there. And…' Dumbledore closed his eyes briefly. 'If you want to leave, the door is open. I haven't touched your bag but I took the liberty of cleaning your clothes.' He motioned his hand and Harry's freshly washed clothes appeared on the table near his bed. 'They were stained.' His voice almost wavered.

Dumbledore then headed towards the door.

'I want to tell you, I really do!' Harry almost screamed as he was about to reach the doorknob.

'Then why can't you?' Asked the Headmaster while turning his soft gaze towards the distressed boy. Harry was now sitting straight in the bed, his face crisped by the pain. But he was doing his best to ignore it. Dumbledore wanted to join him and comfort him. He wanted to tell him he would make sure everything would be alright. But it would be just another lie.

'I… I made a promise…' Started Harry. But he never finished his sentence. He couldn't talk about his deal with Salazar. He couldn't tell Dumbledore, Champion of the Light, that Tom deserved a chance. He couldn't confess that, after everything he had learnt, he didn't want to kill Voldemort anymore.

'I understand Harry,' said Dumbledore in a sad voice. 'Take the time you need.'

And before the boy could say anything, he opened the door and left.

Harry was panting. He tried to calm his breath. Dumbledore was gone. He had abandoned him, again.

'He didn't abandon you,' scolded the voice. 'You pushed him away. You pushed him away because you couldn't forgive him!'

Harry felt warm tears rolling on his cheek.

'Because I couldn't forgive myself,' he whispered, wiping furiously his tears away.

The pain in his shoulder was now unbearable and he let himself fall on the pillows.

When he opened his eyes again, the sun was setting on the horizon. He managed to wake up and got dressed. He was so hungry, he needed to eat. He didn't know if Dumbledore was still in the house but he figured he would be able to find the kitchen by himself. As he passed near his bag, he gently caressed the side of it.

'I'll be back soon,' he hissed as low as possible.

He felt a little twitch under his fingers under the bag's fabric and smiled. He headed toward the door and opened it.

The corridor was empty and he noticed a staircase on one side of it. He climbed them down and found himself in a comfortable living room. Gleaming woods were cracking softly in the fireplace and two huge red armchairs were facing it. The floor was covered with a soft rug and the curtains were drawn on the windows. Harry pulled one of them to look outside. He was in a small english village he didn't know. There were bookcases on every wall that were all filled with various books. Harry felt the warmth of the room fill him. He could have almost believed he was in Gryffindor's common room. He crossed it and arrived in another corridor.

One of the doors was opened and when Harry looked through it he saw the kitchen. He suspected Dumbledore had let it open on purpose. His suspicion was confirmed when he saw on the main table a full dinner worthy of what he could have had at Hogwarts. He sat down timidly and started to eat.

What were Ron and Hermione doing at the moment?

He wondered about his next course of action. Part of him wanted to involve Dumbledore. But he had to save Tom. He had promised he would do it. And, with time, this promise had shifted into one of a very different kind. He didn't owe it to Salazar anymore. He owed it to Tom, and to him. Saving Tom was the hope he would maybe meet him in the afterlife. Even if it was just to bid his farewell.

When he was done, he stood up and headed back into the living room. He felt the first itch in the corridor. When he entered the room, it had shifted into a burn. Harry was surprised since it had been a long time since he had felt anything from his scar. He never got to the other side of the room and collapsed on the floor.