Chapter 60: Italian Restaurant

The first few days of the New Year proved interesting and challenging for Harry. Soon after he and Fawkes were separated, he discovered that he still had all of the abilities of a phoenix, but very limited wizard magic. With or without a wand (which he had to borrow for experimentation because his was broken), he had trouble with the simplest charms and spells. His magic level was similar to what it had been as a first year. He practiced a lot and it got easier; it was like his magic had reverted to an egg and he needed it to hatch and grow back to what it had been.

Minerva was the first one to discover Harry's inabilities when she walked in on him practicing levitating charms (badly) in his classroom on Thursday, January 2nd of 1958.

"What are you doing, Crockett? What's that you're levitating there?" Harry lost his concentration and the pen he was floating dropped to the ground. Harry turned and glared at her, wiping a bit of sweat off of his forehead.

"Lesson planning," he muttered.

"Defense against the pens?" she asked. "Here, I can help!" She levitated some chalk from the chalkboard and sent them flying at Harry with a twitch of her wand and a smirk.

"Protego!" shouted Harry immediately. One piece of chalk slowed down enough to fall and hit him in the leg, and the other three hit him squarely on the forehead one after the next. Harry grunted in frustration and wiped the chalk off of his face.

Minerva looked at Harry confused and sent one more piece of chalk at him, which hit him in the crotch.

"Huh, I'll be right back," she smirked, her eyes flashing.

"Minerva! Minerva, wait!" but she was already swishing off down the corridor. Twenty minutes later she returned with Albus.

"Alright, Harry. You said you wanted a rematch with Albus, so here he is."

"What? I didn't say—"

"Of course you did—you said your duel was totally unfair and you weren't even conscious at the time because of Fawkes, so you wanted a rematch, so I brought Albus down."

Albus was smiling a little. "Why didn't you say so, Harry? I always enjoy our duels…"

"Oh, and he called you an old ninny," said Minerva.

Harry was about to rebuke but Minerva sent a silencing charm at him and he couldn't throw it off.

He glared at Minerva and followed her and Albus out of the classroom thanks to the forceful guidance of an invisible hand at his back. The three of them made it out to the Quidditch pitch. This wasn't going to last very long. Harry'd get beaten and hopefully not injured, and then he could explain everything and Albus would understand. Some part of his pride smarted at not being able to fight Albus back properly, though.

Before he knew it, he was standing twenty paces from Albus on the Quidditch pitch in a patch cleared of snow. "Ninny?" Albus mouthed at Harry, mock hurt. Harry shook his head vigorously.

This was going to be the first duel they wouldn't tie—they'd even sort of tied the one in the interview. And then Harry remembered that the Elder Wand recognized them both. He briefly wondered how the wand was going to pull off a tie this time, given he'd be fighting like a first year.

But he didn't have time to think about it because Minerva blew a whistle and Albus started firing spells at him. Harry dodged around—he was and always had been exceptionally fast, and he was faster still because of his phoenix powers and body aura, but when he tried to put up a shield it failed almost immediately.

Harry was wandless, so his spells either shot out of his fingers or manifested at their targets, but most of them didn't appear at all or were too weak to do anything.

Albus put up a shield and called "Harry, are you alright?"

Minerva's silencing charm finally wore off, so Harry responded. "No! Minerva—agh. My magic's still...gone…just finish the damn duel."

Albus glanced over at Minerva who was grinning. "You'll have to finish! You're magically bound!" she called gleefully.

"I will have words for you, Minerva…" called Albus before turning his wand back on Harry. "Petrificus Totalus!" he called, and Harry finally failed to dodge. His arms snapped to his sides and his legs snapped together and he toppled over, but Albus was there to catch him and lower him slowly to the ground.

Suddenly Harry could move again.

"That wasn't thirty seconds," he said, looking up at Albus, kneeling above him.

"I didn't take the curse off," said Albus, frowning, but still, Harry could move.

"Incarcerous!" Albus muttered, pointing his wand down at Harry. Ropes sprung out of his wand and began wrapping themselves around Harry—and, to both of their surprise, they wrapped all the way around Albus too, dragging Albus down and binding them together tightly from shoulder to boots. Albus's wand fell out of reach.

Both of them heard Minerva laughing and then she came into view above them.

"Albus," Minerva said, "There was really no need to give up the win."

"I…didn't," said Albus.

The bell rang, signaling thirty seconds of incapacitation. Once again, Harry and Albus had tied a duel.

"Should I just…leave you two like this? You look..." she cocked her head, "comfortable."

Harry wondered if Albus was ever going to realize his wand was loyal to Harry and start suspecting that Harry knew where the Resurrection Stone was too.

So Harry worked on his magic and it improved. After a few days he was at least up to the level of a third year. He could do disarming spells with relative success and he could transfigure small inanimate objects. He was in his office practicing on Friday morning when a house elf in what looked like a formal tea cozy appeared with a rolled up piece of parchment.

"Professor Crockett, sir, this is being from Professor Dumbledore, sir."

"Oh…? Thanks," said Harry. He wondered why Albus didn't just come and deliver it himself or—or just tell him whatever it was.

He unrolled the parchment and immediately his eyes went huge and his face became very warm. Inked in loopy emerald green pen was:

Dearest Harry,

I wish to apologize for my forward behavior the other day, but I would like you to know of my affections for you. It's my intention to court you romantically and perhaps you would oblige me with a dinner next Saturday, the 11th of January at 4:30, if that's enough notice. I eagerly await your response.

Yours truly,

Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore

He read it again three times, cringing and biting his knuckle.

"Is you writing a responses, sir?" asked the house elf. Harry jumped; he'd forgotten the house elf was there.

"Er…" he cleared his throat. "Er…yeah," said Harry. "—No," his voice cracked. "No, actually, thanks. I'll go myself…"

With letter in hand, he marched up to Albus's office, knocked, and the door swung open.

His throat went dry all of a sudden.

"Er… Albus. Got your message."

"Oh. Good," said Albus, a picture of ease and serenity behind his desk, leaning back in his chair.

"You know…you…er…don't have to put it in writing…or give me over a week's notice…We aren't that formal in my time—or…this time, I think, actually. You could just…ask me to go to dinner with you…"

"Goodness, that sounds confusing," said Albus leaning forward to put his elbows on the desk. "How would you know I was courting you? How would you know it wasn't just a friendly dinner or something related to your employment? And imagine if I weren't courting you and you thought I was—imagine how you would have been led on, if I may be so presumptuous." His glasses glinted.

"Well in my time," said Harry walking over to Albus's desk and putting his hands on it, "after a century and a quarter of progress since your last date..." he leaned across to put his face near enough to Albus's ear to feel body heat and smell Albus's lemony shampoo, "we've come up with some new ways to show someone we're interested."

"And it's never once been confusing?" countered Albus with a small smile. Flashes of Cho and Ginny came to Harry's mind's eye, and Harry decided that Albus might have a point. He withdrew to standing in front of the desk.

"I would love to go to dinner with you," he said. "But could we compromise and make it this Saturday? I think waiting a week might make me go mad." He smiled sheepishly.

"It would be a pity to learn that after a hundred and twenty five years, lovers have stopped trying to drive each other mad."

Harry bit his lip and tried a different tack. He sat down in the chair opposite Albus and reached to touch Albus's hand. "I wouldn't want you to feel like I was rushing you," said Harry. "You know, if you weren't sure and you wanted more time." He started reaching out through his hand with his body aura just to see..."If you aren't bursting with anticipation like I am." He inched his aura further in, feeling Albus's heart speed up. "But at least I have the dreams as consolation," he finished.

"The dreams?" asked Albus a little more weakly than he probably meant to.

"It's the strangest thing," said Harry. "Both of the nights since I've been back I've been having these incredible dreams unlike anything I've ever had before. They feel totally different from my dreams. Each night it starts where I'm kneeling down onto a bed in a pitch black room—"

"Alright, this Saturday!" said Albus, pulling away his hand and— and blushing.

Harry grinned and got up, feeling the ghost of teeth Albus was imagining on his own throat as Harry withdrew his aura.

Just as Harry was about to leave, Albus called to him. "Oh— Harry? Wear muggle clothes, if you please."

"Need that in writing!"

So it was a date.

Meanwhile, Minerva would not shut up about some new boyfriend she'd met on her visit home.

"Elijah is taking me to dinner tonight," she told Harry and Albus at lunch on Friday.

"And does this Elijah have a last name?" asked Albus.

"Charade."

"What kind of a name is Charade?" asked Harry.

"I think it's mysterious," said Minerva. "He's from a very old wizarding family of Charades."

"I have never met one of the Charades," said Albus. "Nor heard of one, come to that…"

"They're Irish. None of them have ever attended Hogwarts."

"Ah, well, I would love to meet him."

"It's only our second date," she replied. "I don't want to scare him off yet."

"So, what does he do?" Harry asked.

"He's an antique dealer. He finds rare and old magical objects, values them, and sells them. I bet he'd love to see your vault, Harry."

Harry laughed. "Not going to happen, Minerva. And don't you dare breathe a word to him about it."

"I won't," she said, "but he told me about some interesting things…one of Hufflepuff's old cups or something," she rambled. "Her last known artifact, and he said he spent a lot of time looking for the Lost Diadem of Ravenclaw—didn't find it of course. Something about one of Slytherin's old rings with a weird triangle on it…Said he would love to see the sword of Gryffindor. Now that I think about it, I wonder why he's so interested in the Hogwarts founders if he didn't go to school here. No matter—he found a good person to talk to about it!"

Harry and Albus quickly learned to tune Minerva's chatter about Elijah out. Whether she was trying to make Albus jealous or show him how happy she was without him, she'd become a broken record.

And before Harry knew it, it was Saturday evening: almost time for his date with Albus. Minerva, surprisingly, insisted on helping him dress for it, and Harry needed it. He didn't have any muggle clothes, but with some descriptions and photos from muggle magazines that Harry had to teleport out to get, Minerva could transfigure things for him.

He was ready by 4:25 and he and Minerva climbed down the stepladder (because Harry couldn't levitate himself down slowly enough not to break his legs yet—something he learned the hard way). Minerva wished Harry an enthusiastic good luck, and with a wink left Harry to meet Albus by himself.

And he reached the top of the grand staircase right as the clock started chiming four thirty, and he looked down and there was Albus. Involuntarily, his face split into a grin.

"Hello, Harry," Albus said softly as Harry approached.

"Hello."

Albus kissed him on the cheek. "You look…ah…devilishly handsome," he said. Harry felt himself turn a horrible color of red.

"Er…thanks. Minerva picked this out…" he said pulling at his tie and straightening his vest. "You too," he said, glancing Albus up and down. Albus was wearing his purple pinstripe suit. Maybe it was because Harry knew Albus better than the last time he'd seen that purple suit, but he no longer thought it looked too eccentric; instead, he noticed how it made Albus look even taller and how the purple made his blue eyes stand out.

"Are you ready to go?" Albus asked.

"Oh—I forgot my cloak. Do you mind if I—"

You won't need one where we're going," replied Albus.

"…Oh?"

Albus took Harry's arm and lead him outside onto the dark snowy grounds. It was cold out, but they were at the front gate to the school before it started to bother Harry.

"Do you mind side-along Apparating?"

"No," said Harry. He gripped Albus's arm tightly.

"On the count of three, then…one, two, three!"

They reappeared and were immediately struck by the light of the setting sun (which had long since set at Hogwarts). They stood on a winding, dusty country road. The road twisted between vineyards that stretched out over rolling hills that never seemed to end. The air was much warmer; Harry would have put it around 70 degrees. He and Albus both took their coats off and slung them over their shoulders.

"I hope you don't mind a short stroll," said Albus.

"Not at all. It's really nice out. Good idea…"

They began walking down the road. They walked down a slight hill towards the sunset and around a corner. A breeze swept by, moving the warm air, and Harry watched as Albus's hair rustled.

"We're almost there, I think," he said.

They stopped at the top of a hill and watched as the sun set completely. As they stood side by side, Harry's hand accidentally brushed Albus's, and Albus immediately took hold of it.

They continued walking.

Harry spotted what looked like a little house at the bottom of the hill. As they approached, Harry saw that there was a little garden in front with a low wooden fence around it. In the garden was a lawn, and an olive tree, and a little table. As they walked and watched, they were close enough to see a stout woman emerge from the house with an empty wine bottle and a candle. She put the candle in the wine bottle, put it on the table, and lit it. She straightened back up and turned to go back into the house, but she spotted Harry and Albus.

"Buonasera, hello!" she called in a thick Italian accent.

"Good evening," replied Albus with a wave.

"It is so good of you to come! We made sure you were our only customers tonight." she said with big gestures. "Come in, sit down," she gestured to the little table, "and everything will be ready for you!" And with that, she went back into the house, her enormous hips swaying under an apron.

"I hope you like Italian food," Albus said to Harry.

"I do—Albus, where are we?"

"Italy. Somewhere near Lucca. I was going to take you somewhere farther south, but they were having unseasonably warm weather here…This lovely woman hosts private dining. Her family are some of the best chefs in Italy."

"Oh my god…you took me to Italy on our first date…"

Albus smiled, and his eyes sparkled with the afterglow of the sunset.

So they sat down at the table, and soon the woman, whose name was Gabriella, returned with a loaf of bread and wine, and then bruschetta, some with blood orange, goat cheese, and basil, and some with prosciutto and mozzarella. Harry suspected that the oranges came from a tree towering behind the house.

The afterglow of the sunset was fading, and two small children came out with more lit candles in wine bottles and distributed them all over the garden.

Soon after the bruschetta came new wine and a large dish of handmade cheese ravioli for Harry and Albus to share. Over the ravioli was a dark meat sauce that Gabriella referred to as "gravy." She told them was an old family recipe that takes over seven hours to make. When Albus asked for a copy of the recipe, she told him it had never been written down and had no measurements, but she'd be happy for him to come and watch her make it on Saturday mornings.

The main course was herb-roasted chicken with small potatoes and pearl onions. Harry and Albus each received a breast and a wing with sprigs of rosemary that had clearly been cut from the very garden they were sitting in. Accompanied by this course was, of course, another matching Italian red wine. Gabriella told them about each course and each wine. The wine for the main course was made by her uncle, who lived a few miles away and owned the vineyard around them.

By the time Gabriella brought out the desert (lady fingers and espresso), over two hours had passed. The only light came from the full moon and the candles, but the air was still quite warm.

When they finished the lady fingers, which they dipped in their espressos, Gabriella brought out a dessert wine.

"Thanks for taking me out," said Harry while he and Albus sipped their drinks.

"You're welcome. I hope you enjoyed dinner."

Harry laughed and nodded. "I did—I am."

"I am glad."

They were quiet for a moment.

"Harry, you once asked me a question, and I answered you quite facetiously and I think I owe you the truth."

"Er…ok."

"You asked me why I look so young—and thank you for saying so—but there is a reason for it."

Harry was suddenly very interested.

"Many years ago while I was still very young and a transfiguration teacher, was doing some research and experimentation on alchemy, and I attracted the attention of a noted scholar, Nicolas Flamel. Of course, I knew of Nicolas's accomplishments in alchemy with the Stone."

Harry had no idea where this story was going.

"Nicolas and I spent a lot of time together, and after a few years, one day, to my surprise, he offered me the elixir of life—the chance to stay young forever."

"Oh," said Harry surprised—and a little relieved. Harry'd been very uncomfortable when he thought that Nicolas had offered him the elixir and not Albus. "Why didn't you take it?"

"That's just it, Harry. I did take it. That's why I'm," he gestured to himself.

Harry was silent for a moment, processing.

"But…you can't…You're all old in my time…"

"I am led to believe that that will be a magical alteration to avoid confusion and media attention."

The gears in Harry's head were quickly grinding to a halt. This news went against everything he knew about Dumbledore. He didn't know what to think.

"I will understand if you think it selfish of me," said Albus, and Harry finally understood how nervous Albus was about telling Harry this—how much mustering it must have taken him to finally reveal this secret. "I, myself, sometimes think it's selfish."

Harry couldn't bear to see him so agitated. He suddenly knew this just wasn't any of his business.

He reached across the table and grabbed Albus's hands in both of his. "It makes me happy to see you this way."

They each finished their wine and then they left. When Gabriella came outside to say goodbye, she found them gone, but there was a pile of gold on the table large enough to feed her family for a year and expand her house into the proper restaurant she'd been dreaming about.

Harry and Albus, meanwhile, appeared back in Harry's tower. Fawkes was back; he was standing on his gold perch with his head tucked under his wing.

"So…" said Harry, letting go of Albus, "Two bachelors," he said trying out the word, "two coworkers. We...went on a date."

"Yes we did," replied Albus.

"What…does that mean?"

"Probably that we should go on another one."

Harry's face split into a smile, but before he could respond, Albus was kissing him, pulling him close with his hand on the small of Harry's back. Harry was about to thread his hand through Albus's hair, but Albus broke away, wished Harry goodnight, and dropped down the open trap door.