The heavy door clicked shut behind him as McGonagall left him alone with what had been willed to him. With unseeing eyes, he dropped into the squashy armchair, which had been the companion of his learning and frustration for so many years.
His hand grasped the small, sleek vial. So this is all that's left --this office, this chair, and this memory vial in place of a life? His eyes watered as he breathed in the musty, cinnamon scent of his mentor's office. His jaw clenched and unclenched as he steeled himself to look to the newest portrait on the office wall. "No stupidtears--there'll be plenty of time for that when everything's over."He glanced up quickly, flinching--it was empty. He shook his head as though clearing the cobwebs from his mind. Empty?
The other portraits were feigning sleep with various degrees of talent, but the new oak frame labelled Albus Dumbledore in gilt lettering showed only a stuffed bookcase and a window with a view of the forbidden forest. He let out the breath he had been holding. "He's probably with his chocolate frog cards...Guess it's better that way."
He turned his head and peered at the reason for his visit to this now sepulchral space. The shallow basin gleamed with its eerie light--once again striking him with uncalled for recollections.
With a burst of courage and resignation, he rose and strode to the Pensieve--pulling the stopper from the cool bottle. His hand shook slightly as he poured its contents into the bowl. He gazed stonily as it churned and whirled, casting hoary glints along the wall.
Suddenly he chuckled to himself--"What am I afraid of? This could be what I've been waiting for--answers, reasons, clarity, direction." Well, direction was doubtful--knowing his mentor--but he would set his hopes on acceptance and pray for resolution.
With a deep breath, he ploughed ahead, allowing himself to fall into the silvery fluid. For a moment, he stood in confusion. He was still standing before the Pensieve--Why didn't it work?He nearly jumped out of his skin as he heard the soft clearing of a throat and span to see his mentor perched comfortably behind his desk.
"Fear not, Harry! It did indeed work--this is my memory. I am sorry to say I cannot see you but please feel free to take your seat." Harry stood in stunned silence for a moment, gaping at the late headmaster.
"Well, it might be weird, but this is what I came for isn't it?," he thought, and with a sigh he fell back into the familiar chair.
"It is a rare gift to have someone's captive attention, so I will be brief--and hopefully meaningful," he mused. The old man's eyes glinted with so many emotions that Harry had to look away, his breath ragged, he glanced at Fawkes--shining, gloriously on his perch in the early morning light. The memory of his last sight of Fawkes drove his eyes to the floor.
Dumbledore's calm voice held a note of precision, adding a weight of import to his words. "Since you are seeing this, Harry, I will assume that I am indeed dead and that you have received this memory vial from Minerva. I wish to apologize that I have failed you in so many ways, though I pray you took some of my lessons to heart."
Harry opened his mouth to object but realized at once that it would be useless. Closing his mouth, he focused his eyes on Professor Dumbledore, framed like a martyr by the large window behind him.
"One so young should not have to understand such evil. I am sorry both that it has been your lot and that my attempts to protect you were unsuccessful. Though in hindsight, perhaps it was for the best. But you are here now and I believe it is your right to know the truth." He seemed to settle himself in to tell a tale, and Harry leaned forward breathlessly, eager to finally hear some answers.
"As you know, it is the duty of former headmasters and headmistresses to assist the individual currently in the post in every way they can," he began, gesturing to the many portraits on his wall. They were all awake now and shamelessly, though perhaps nervously, watching Dumbledore.
"My predecessor, Headmaster Dippet was a unique man, who will most likely not find himself in many history books, forgive my pun. For his interests often veered well away from wizarding education. His greatest contribution to the magical world will sadly never be widely known for it was Time that most intrigued him. As you know, Time is not a thing to trifle with, it is often a fickle hostess." Here Dumbledore paused reflectively.
"On becoming headmaster I received a memory vial, much as you did, from Professor Dippet. He felt it was his duty to enlighten me regarding certain...events in his memory that he knew would affect, not only myself, but Hogwarts as a whole. Knowing vaguely of his forays through time, which had earned him many warnings and fines from the ministry, I realized it would most likely be an interesting experience." He rose and stood at his window, his back to Harry. When he continued, his voice was measured and clear.
"The memory I received from him was shocking indeed, as you will well imagine. I found myself standing beside an invisible Professor Dippet, for he was as adept at invisibility as I am, in view of his romps through time. I stood beside my predecessor on the wall of the Astronomy tower. I watched as a great, green skull lit the sky. I saw myself land with you on the tower."
Harry felt his stomach flip painfully as he gazed wide-eyed at Dumbledore. "I watched Draco come through the door and I saw myself freeze you. I stood in astonishment as I pleaded with Severus to kill me, and I saw the uncertainty and shame on his face as he fulfilled his mission."
Harry sprang to his feet, angry curses and confused shouts bursting from him. "It's absolutely not possible, it's a trick. He lied. I...it's...but...," he screamed and fumbled, forgetting that he could not be heard. Yet, Dumbledore stopped his tale, turning back toward Harry, as though knowing this bit would most likely receive quite a reaction.
"Yes, Harry, his mission. Please do sit down," Dumbledore remarked with a knowing smirk.
"This is why I trusted Severus so utterly and yet could not inform anyone of my reasoning. I saw him kill me decades before it occurred. Of course, it took a few years before I began to understand how the scene came to play out as it did. Honestly, I am glad all the mystery was not spoiled, but I must say it is a very freeing thing to witness your own death--almost removes the anxiety of the unknown." With a sigh, Dumbledore returned to his seat, and Harry, far from submissive, acquiesced and also sat.
Professor Dumbledore seemed to wait for Harry to meet his eyes before he spoke again, this time his voice reflected a firm assurance.
"Harry, I have played my part in this wild adventure. You have everything within you that is required of you to prevail, and those around you have everything they need to assist you. I would only serve to weigh you down. I have fought my battles, Harry, and you must fight yours, but I will answer for you a few questions I am certain are soaring violently about your mind at the moment."
Dumbledore sat back and gazed into the air, as though pulling a memory from the darkness of his mind. "The first time saw your father it sent a chill through my bones, for it took a few moments for me to realize he was not you. But, I did of course understand that the time was drawing near. When your parents named their son Harry, I knew that it was time I approached them." He smiled gently at the memory.
"I took them both into Professor Dippet's memory and explained my certainty that I was meant to die in this way and that their son was meant to live. Oh, there was passionate yelling on your father's part and furious reasoning on your mother's, but they eventually came to understand the weight of time this memory held."
His eyes glistened and he sighed, "We were so proud of you Harry. Your mother cried as she watched you standing strong beside me. Your father left his cloak with me on that night, knowing that some day in the future I would be able to pass it on to you--though of course we did not then know of their own deaths.
"As for Severus, even in his school days I attempted to guide him surreptitiously. He was an intelligent and passionate young man, but so consumed by his past as well as his present. I realized that he was not yet ready to hear my message. The years were difficult on him Harry, it is not my place to reveal his history, but I assure you he understands the vileness that life can bestow."
Harry was forcibly reminded of the memories he had seen while studying Occlumency during his fifth year. But, he pushed the memories down, not yet ready to let them linger in his mind.
"He came to me following your parents' death overcome with guilt and he pledged his life to your safety--it was then he became a 'double agent' as it were," Dumbledore stated.
"I showed him Dippet's memory and he was, understandably, in uproar. How could I expect this of him? How could he kill the only person who believed he was more than a begrudging lunatic? But in the end he conceded as your parents had--it was the only way to fulfil his pledge to protect you," Dumbledore's knowing smile seemed to settle of his face, but Harry could see the weight of memory in the professor's eyes.
"As your father's wise friend once told you Harry, 'The world is not divided into good people and death eaters.'(Sirius, Ch14, OotP) I urge you to realize that Severus has done a great deal to help you, at great personal cost, I might add. But, as you know a scar can smart even decades after it is inflicted--and a scarred heart is not easily mended.
"Do not allow the grudges of the last generation to infect your own heart, Harry. Professor Snape can provide you with invaluable information in defeating Tom. And, perhaps...if you are able to find it within yourself to forgive, a salve for both your scars may be found."
Harry unconsciously raised his hand to his scar. The rage that had been boiling within his breast since that horrible night suddenly seemed to rise up to his throat and eyes scalding them with bile and tears.
"Now I must bid you adieu," the headmaster ended with composure.
"Remember, Harry, death should not be feared, but it must be respected. Life is a great gift, and I implore you to allow no one to waste it, least of all yourself. It must be revered and protected whenever possible, and released without rancour when the time comes. On a lighter note, I have willed this Pensieve to you. I pray you use it to remember and not to forget."
With that, Albus Dumbledore stood and bowed to Harry, his eyes twinkling as he rose.
"It has been my pleasure to teach you, Harry, and a pleasure to know you, my friend. Goodbye."
The memory dissolved and Harry fell onto his back on the soft carpet of the headmaster's office, his chest heaving and his eyes burning.
He lay there for a long time, staring at the vaulted ceiling and trying to grasp everything he had heard.
When he finally rose, the sepia shades of sunset had filled the silent room. He realized all the portraits were staring at him, including the newest addition. Harry turned to his mentor, met his eyes with resolve, bowed inelegantly but with feeling, turned on his heel and walked out.