Chapter 16- Meeting With Dumbledore

"So Mr. Potter," Dumbledore began, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Harry was sitting in one of the squishy armchairs of Professor Dumbledore's office. He looked down at the floor as he kicked his little legs that were hanging off of the chair's edge.

"Professor," he started. He didn't know what to say. There was always the blunt truth but that would seem odd. 'Gee professor. Sorry to bother you but I just tried to kill a person but I don't remember it so what do you thinks wrong?'

'That sounds stupid,' a little voice in his head said. He continued to stare at his feet, but he could feel Dumbledore's penetrating gaze bore into him.

"Well if you don't me asking Harry," he said at last, "Why do you currently look like a toddler?"

"Magical accident," Harry muttered. He didn't want Dumbledore to know that he was fighting in the streets of Hogsmeade. He was still trying to figure out what was going on with him.

"And why is Ms. DeCartalano in such a right state?" Cassie was sitting next to Harry, her eyes darting across the room, she was able to breathe regularly but was unable or unwilling to speak.

"That's kind of why I'm here professor," Harry began. He was grateful Dumbledore had asked this question. Now he didn't have to figure out a way to start his story.

"Ron and Hermione said I attacked her." He muttered as he looked up at the headmaster. Once he made eye contact with him, he wished he could take it back. His stare made Harry feel uneasy, as if he could just look through him. He wanted to look down at the floor again but it was hard to break the eye contact.

"I see," he finally said, nodding in understanding.

'Wonderful,' Harry thought, 'Hermione understands and Dumbledore understands and with his luck, Harry would be the last to know what was going on with him.'

"Harry," he said, getting up as he began to walk around the room. "Do you remember last year, when I told you there was a kind of connection between you and Lord Voldemort?"

Harry nodded in response. Now he had an idea what he was getting at. This was all Voldemort's doing again. Hermione began to make sense now too. '...It was Him...He made you...'

"Do you remember that I told you it was possible that he may be aware of this connection?"

Harry nodded stiffly.

"Now I am assuming by the fact that you came to me, that you had no idea that you were attacking Cassandra. Am I right?"

Harry nodded again.

"Yes," Dumbledore whispered, nodding his head as well as he scratched his chin underneath his beard. "Well Harry, I was hoping that it would not come to this but..."

His voice was trailing off. Harry wasn't listening anymore. He was busy thinking. Why had it taken him so long to realize? Voldemort. He was always the cause of his suffering. It seemed as though everything bad that happened in his life was all his fault. 'He's a murderous, conniving, vicious, bald, evil little,'

"Harry?" A voice interrupted his rambling.

He looked up blankly at a smiling Dumbledore; his eyes had that gleeful twinkle in them again. Harry wanted to bite him...painfully.

'Why would you want to do that?' He asked himself.

'Payback...' the little voice in his head whispered.

'Payback?'

"Harry," Dumbledore repeated, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder. "You didn't hear a word I said did you?"

Somewhat afraid to answer his question, Harry just gulped. He didn't want Dumbledore to think he didn't care about what he was saying.

"Don't worry," he said, smiling again. "I'll try talking to you again when your mind seems clearer. For now, it might be wise for you to head to Madame Pomfrey as I am sure she could whip up an aging potion to make you right again."

"That's okay Professor," Harry said, sliding off the arm chair, "Hermione's fixing one right now. It should be done." And with that, Harry stiffly hurried out of Dumbledore's office.

His mind was lost in thought as his feet carried him back to the room where Ron and Hermione were. He couldn't believe he had been so daft! Just about everything miserable that happened in his life (which was a lot) had been Voldemort's doing. He wondered what life would be like if he had grown up with his parents, who weren't killed by some maniac bent on ridding the world of his definition of 'filth.'

Life would most likely be bliss. He would've grown up with his kind wizarding parents. He would've known about his future at Hogwarts. He wouldn't have to worry about the lives of the ones around him. He wouldn't have to think about needing to murder to survive. His biggest problem would've been studying for his N.E.W.Ts or making sure his cauldron didn't explode in Snape's class. Every aspect of his life would be different...

His thoughts trailed on and on as he felt himself wander back to the abandoned classroom that he had previously occupied. He pushed opened the door and slumped over to one of the chairs in the corner, averting the eyes of the three others in the room. They were glancing around the classroom skeptically. It was then Harry realized he was still wearing the Invisibility Cloak. He pulled it off himself and tossed it absentmindedly on the floor.

He heard Hermione sigh with relief as she spotted Harry and continued fiddling around with the potion.

"Harry?" Ron asked shyly. "Is everything all right?"

Harry nodded and managed to give Ron a half-smile before looking away again. He wasn't sure that everything was all right. All that Harry had learned from his meeting with Dumbledore that this had something to do with the bond between him and Voldemort. He was too busy thinking about how much he hated him to hear what Dumbledore told him after that. He had considered going back to ask him what he had said, but decided against it.

"Where's Cassie?" Ron asked.

"She's..." Harry started.

'Oops...' Harry remembered that he left her (wallowing in her confusion) sitting in Dumbledore's office. Hopefully she'd come to her senses soon enough and find her way back to the common room.

"She's still with Dumbledore," he finished, deciding that this answer was true, but hid the fact that he had forgotten her there. He was forgetting a lot of things lately.

"Why?" Ron asked, the tone of inquisitiveness in his voice greatly resembling that of a four-year old.

"I don't know!" Harry snapped causing Ron to back away from him.

"Sorry," he muttered, glaring at the floor again. He wanted the stupid potion to be finished so he could hide in his bed and think properly, or not think for that matter. As if reading his thoughts Hermione announced,

"Finished."

Ron and Draco hurriedly crowded around her, eager to return to their normal selves. Harry dragged himself into the fray of Ron and Draco, who were battling each other for the first vial of potion.

'Well,' he thought, 'At least part of this nightmare is over.'