Chapter 2: The Infirmary


Harry woke with a start. He looked around him disoriented. He saw the while walls and familiar white sheets. He was in the hospital wing at Hogwarts! He immediately relaxed in the all too familiar bed. As he began to drift off, he remembered exactly why he was here. Immediately his eyes flew open and darted around him in panic. He sat up and bowed his head as he tried to remember what had happened at the Department of Mysteries.

His eyes widened as the events from the night prior played over in his head. This turned to immediate confusion when encountered with the memory of the mysterious woman from his memories and the almost concern he felt from Voldemort.

After all, when Voldemort had broken into his mind, he experienced all the emotions that Voldemort did. He felt the glee followed by uncertainty and regret. But what could Voldemort regret? He was a monster, right?

This momentary confusion was how Dumbledore found Harry. With a grand sweeping gesture, the doors to the infirmary swung open. Harry jumped in surprise at the sudden and very dramatic entrance.

Dumbledore strode forward in his florescent blue robes covered in miniature feathers. Harry smiled. At least one thing never changed; his outrageous robes. They never failed to elicit a small smile from the boy.

Dumbledore immediately went to Harry and sat down at the bottom of his bed. He reached a hand out to place on top of the covers as if by caressing them, he could offer Harry a small comfort. But that harmless gesture kept hidden his more vindictive nature and glee at the events that unfolded last night. After all, everything went according to plan. The prophesy was safe and nobody was the wiser to his plot.

"Harry, my boy, I do hope you are feeling better. You had quite a scare last night." Dumbledore asked, concerned.

"Yes Headmaster, I'm feeling fine." Harry replied calmly.

"Oh my dear boy, you don't have to be strong with me. I know that with Sirius gone, you must feel the need to grieve."

Sirius. He had forgotten about Sirius. His beloved godfather and the only person in his life that loved him and only him. He was the only person that he could connect with in the Order. Everyone else saw him as the Boy Who Lived and not as the teenager he was. But he couldn't help but remember Sirius' call of "James" before he fell. In the end even Sirius never saw just Harry.

Tears were brought to his eyes, shortly replaced by anger.

"If you had just told me about the prophesy then Sirius would still be here! Why couldn't you trust me? If you had then I wouldn't have gone!" Harry screamed but tears rolling down his face.

"Now my boy, I felt that you were too young to bear such a burden. Frankly, the blame for Sirius' death does not fall upon me." At this Dumbledore looked at Harry seriously and with no small amount of chiding.

Was Dumbledore really trying to blame Harry for this? But the tone and words he used had an impact on harry. His figure slumped and his shoulder shook with sobs. Dumbledore let a small smile creep onto his face. If anyone had seen him now, they would have balked at the positively evil glint in his eyes.

He reached out to pat Harry's head in semblance of comfort. He couldn't let his pawn become disillusioned with him.

Harry looked up with a water smile and pleaded that he wanted to be alone to grieve.

"Of course my boy" Dumbledore said and withdrew. He stood and strode out of the infirmary without a single glance back.

Once the door closed, Harry fell upon the small bed in sobs. He curled his knees to his chest and remained there while drowning in his grief. He knew that he was the only reason Sirius decide to go to the Department of Mysteries. And that made his death his fault. But he couldn't stop the stray thought that Dumbledore could have prevented all of this by telling him about what was hidden there. He immediately dismissed it. This was Dumbledore he was talking about. The Headmaster! And he only wanted what was best for him. Right? But try as he might, that lingering doubt remained.

As he drifted off to sleep he heard a small whisper in his mind.

Soon my child, we will be reunited.

At that a small smile appeared and his frame relaxed into the bedsheets.