Union/7
A/N: Thanks for sticking with me. Happy reading, all!
Dumbledore was silent most of the stroll to his office, only asking Harry how his holidays were turning out and if he'd tried a particular candy from Honeydukes before. After this, they walked quietly the remainder of the way. Walking alongside Dumbledore eased Harry's nerves, as he had always given Harry a sense of reassurance and fortitude. They reached the gargoyle, where Dumbledore muttered the password, sherbet lemon, and climbed up the steadily rising staircase.
If it was one thing Harry really admired about Dumbledore, it was consistency. The office remained untidy yet was clearly in an arrangement where the headmaster could easily find any artifact or book that crossed his mind. Fawkes stared curiously at them, shaking his wings in greeting as they entered, on the same perch, while the portraits though rarely changed were either eavesdropping or resting peacefully in their frames, or were otherwise gone, drawn to other stimulants.
"Tea?" Dumbledore's offer surprised Harry, and he stuttered his decline while the older wizard poured himself a rather steep-looking cup of black tea.
As he had made to sit at his usual seat behind his desk, Harry settled on the other side, happy to rest his forearms on the top of the cool wooden surface. He and Dumbledore sat in silence as he waited patiently for him to take a healthy drink of tea, and after a moment he couldn't resist his curiosity.
"Professor?"
"Hm?" Dumbledore glanced at him over his still steaming cup and nodded at once, as if he had forgotten Harry was there and needed reminding himself. "Yes, yes… Harry, there were some things I wanted to ask you about."
A small twinge of disappointment tugged at his heart, half expecting something exciting, but now it seemed this was just skipping back to what his head of house had wanted to go over earlier. Even so, he offered his attention, tilting his head toward the headmaster to grant him his questions.
"I had an interesting encounter just a couple of days ago, regarding a certain student, informed to me by a very confident source." He settled his teacup on the desk with his hands clasped around the body.
Harry stared on, not really sure this was so much like what he and McGonagall had discussed earlier after all.
"After, and I do apologize, having an ear to yours and Minerva's discussion this afternoon, I have reason to be concerned my source may be more accurate than what I had thought."
"Professor McGonagall and I were just discussing my sleep habits, I've been having some trouble lately," Harry tried.
Dumbledore raised his thin eyebrows at him unconvinced.
"I do believe you take my role here lightly, Harry. I know much more than what the average student may like me to," he caught Harry's guarded look, "I don't fuss over trivial day-to-day matters of the students, and in this circumstance there is no real interfering I can do anyhow." He canopied his fingers and rested his chin on them, laying his stare heavily on Harry now.
"Have you ever considered that there is not one, but many paths in your life that are available for you to take?" The headmaster questioned, "And that quite possibly those paths still exist in another time, a place that we are not aware of but are accessible if the will and magic of a person was concentrated enough?"
Harry began to speak but Dumbledore cut in could he could start.
"I won't hide from you that it seems you have discovered, or at least stumbled upon, that very thing, and that the pull is so concentrated that it is slowly winding you in. It is a very persuading thing to gaze into another life, however if you aren't careful you'll find yourself lost and won't be able to come back." Dumbledore's expression became grave, "Or, you may find yourself unable to stay in one place."
Harry stared at his own hands, trying to piece together what was being said.
"Professor… I'm not sure I understand. These dreams-er, nightmares, that I'm having, are you saying they're real? Just as much as right here and now?"
Dumbledore almost looked apologetically at him. "You must understand, there are many selves of an individual, Harry, you are simply living as one of those selves right now." The calmness in his voice his hit Harry bitterly, curdling into a thickening layer of anxiety around his mind.
"Surely you don't mean I've been living… in two places? Sir?" Harry's eyes pleaded at him as a wave of realization swept over him. The reason he was so tired wasn't because of insomnia, it was because he was awake, living and experiencing another part of him. Harry suddenly felt like he was doing something wrong and began to panic.
"P-professor, I don't know what caused this, I," he was silenced by the headmaster raising a hand to stop him.
"None of us do," Dumbledore raised himself from his seat and came around to Harry, resting a firm hand on his shoulder. "Harry, I've read more texts than I can accurately number, and in all my years I've only heard of this happening once in my lifetime before, and another an ancient time ago. I do not have a suggestion on how to stop it, or deter you, however, I do have some information to offer you, whether you find it comforting or alarming."
Harry's eyes sagged shut and he pressed his palms into his forehead. The thought of Dumbledore being powerless to something happening was just the tip of the iceberg for him. Voldemort, the tournament, lying to his friends, Sirius not communicating back, and now this.
"You yourself are the only one with a true connection at this time that we know of with another path, and in such are the only one who can take yourself there. I can at least assure you that have you any need to return you will have help along the way. I believe you and one of the pathseers have already crossed one another."
Harry looked up then and saw Dumbledore's periwinkle eyes sparkling down at him in wonderment. "Mr. Potter, I am admittedly quite envious. The doorway is within you, just make sure you remember the way back."
Hard sleet pelted against the window, infiltrating the intense conversation they were having and bringing a sense of realness to it all as well. Harry drifted his eyes along the many trinkets in the office, the books, the portraits, and he did wonder to himself what more may be waiting for him in a different place.
Dumbledore's hand slid off his shoulder then and he made his way back to his seat, taking a long drink from his tea. A strange feeling arose within Harry as he saw how at ease the headmaster was.
"Professor, are you not worried about stopping this at all? I mean… gathering what you've said, you basically stated I'd go away from this life. What will happen here?"
Dumbledore nodded solemnly and thought carefully before responding.
"This time will continue to carry on. Your mind will simply drift to that other place and you will take residency of your role there. From what I've read, it's as if you were putting on a different pair of socks for a matter of time. It's a window, or a closed door, and you decide what it is to yourself." Fawkes trilled in the distance and Dumbledore waved his hand at him dismissively, and the phoenix stretched its wings wide before gliding out the window Harry now noticed had opened.
"The only true advice I can give you, as I haven't experienced this myself, is to mind The Guard of Pathseers when they present themselves. One of the very few happenstances I mentioned to you ended in a very catastrophic, confusing, and hurtful time for wizarding communities here and elsewhere, and The Guard is there for that reason." Dumbledore smiled at him then, "I must say if I was gifted this opportunity, I would not waste it. Now, I believe you were… off to somewhere before I so rudely disrupted your plans?"
Harry staggered to his feet, still not really sponging in everything that had been said to him, however so being able to contemplate the different paths… the opportunity… but The Guard? Harry doubted even Hermione knew a book ancient and passed down long enough to explain this.
"Thank you, Professor, I… don't really know what I'll do, you see, I can't really figure out everything. That is to say what causes… these windows, as you put it." Harry's face freckled with red when Dumbledore's chuckle sounded in his ears.
"I am certain you have an idea, or else I trust you and I would have never had this conversation. I have full confidence you will succeed wherever you choose to belong." The look Dumbledore gave him sent a strong feeling of comfort, yet somehow at the same time sadness trickled through him, and not knowing what to say next he turned from him quietly and exited from the office.
In the far corner of the headmaster's office, a voice carried over to Dumbledore. "Do you believe it was wise to give the boy that information?"
Dumbledore nodded to himself and glanced in the direction the surveyor of the conversation, whom stayed out of sight despite it being just the two of them now.
"I have a surplus of faith in Harry. The goodness of his heart gives me solace that he wouldn't do anything too… drastic."
Although no sound of amusement came from his company, the headmaster could hear the mirth in their voice. "I would say time will tell; however, time means nothing to a wizard who can move through it."
After not offering anything in response, Dumbledore felt the presence of his guest leave as he stared out the window Fawkes had flown out of, deep in thought.
Harry hurried up the stairs to his dorm, ignoring the noises of a game of Snap in the common room and thanking the commotion for aiding him in coming in unnoticed. He didn't know what to do with the information he was just offered… It felt as though Dumbledore expected him to do something, but what?
He sat on the edge of his bed with a sigh and fumbled the vial McGonagall had given him earlier out of his pocket. Licking his lips, he eyed the dark, glittering liquid, turning over in his hands. A good, full cycle of sleep should help him get in the correct state of mind to make sense of all this.
Without another thought, he popped the top off of the vial and took a small sip of the concentrated Sleeping Draught, almost immediately falling sideways against his bed as a heavy blanket of sleep shrouded over him.
To any onlookers it would appear that he was lost in thought, perhaps gazing out longingly to the endless glowing green of the lake's waters and wishing to look onto the beauty of the white landscape surrounding the castle from his window instead. They would, however, be wrong. He was staring through himself, into the translucent reflection of his eyes looking back at him. He'd been here like this for some time, emptying his mind, closing his eyes for a brief period, and going back to staring into himself once again.
As far as his rivalry with the infamous Harry Potter has come, he had never any true desire for his demise. No real vengeance to be tolled. No need for extreme violence or curses. It was all nonsensical bickering, stemming from the spat that started the feud when they were younger. Pranks, harassment, bullying, everything being a result of that day. Now all he can think about was the cold of Harry's arm seeping into his palms, as if trying to suck life back into himself. The incomparable heaviness that surrounded his heart, and the pulling feeling that came back time and time again after telling himself it wasn't real was unshakable.
He drew a long breath in through his nostrils, closed his eyes once again, and exhaled slowly. It wasn't real. Draco opened his eyes and stared intently into his reflection and past it he saw a school of small, luminescent fish dart in front of his window. He watched them swirl around each other, dive down and swim back up past his view, and something clicked in his mind. He needed to see him to believe it, to really know that he was alive and to put this behind him.
Bound and determined, he sucked in a breath and stood to his feet. Never in his days did he think he'd be seeking out Potter to check on his wellbeing. He made a mental note that in the end it was for his own peace of mind, not the boy in question. He took one last look at his reflection and as he turned to leave, he couldn't stop the surprised yell that left him.
"Singing harpies, Blaise! How long have you been sitting there?!"
His friend was perched on the edge of his own bed, chin resting in one of his hands and a mischievous grin splayed across his face.
"Oh, just long enough to wonder if we need to send you off to St. Mungo's." Blaise shook his head, still smiling, "Pansy told me you blew off her and some pretty girl earlier, I wouldn't have imagined it'd be to look at your own reflection. How vain!"
Draco rolled his eyes at him. He'll never be used to Blaise's sense of drama.
"It's not that, I was just-"
"I know."
Draco peered over his nose at Blaise, trying to hide the fact that his nerves were at their wit's end at the thought he knew anything about what was going on.
"You know what, exactly?"
The rampant beating of his heart was so loud he was sure it was audible. Blaise's smug expression fell from his face and he looked at Draco plainly. This was the I Mean Business Blaise that the world most commonly saw.
"I know that something, not having to do with your father, is up, and I know that something has to do with him."
Draco held his gaze, daring him to continue.
Blaise tilted his head towards him and spoke a bit more hushed: "Potter."
A mixed wave of nervousness, relief, and irritation moved through him rapidly. He stepped nose-to-nose with Blaise, meaning to be intimidating but knew the frantic look in his eyes gave him away.
"If you tell Pansy-"
"Please," Blaise sighed exasperatedly, "Have you heard the phrase 'don't curse the post owl'? Yeah, that never really sank in with her, and despite everything I do value myself more than others."
"And you called me vain."
"Self-preservation is one of our key Slytherin traits. One that I hold dearly."
They stood there a moment, holding each other's stare until Draco reached out to place a hand on his friend's shoulder to which Blaise rolled his eyes in feigned annoyance and shrugged off his hand.
"Go on and get out of here, if Pansy has any questions I'll cover for you," he paused for a moment to narrow his eyes at Draco, "but I eventually would like to know what's happening. Deal?" He held out his hand stiffly in the short distance between them, and Draco hesitated for a brief moment before giving it a firm shake.
Blaise grinned at him then, and the tension that settled on the Malfoy heir left. "Make it an interesting story."
Draco wondered to himself what Blaise had in mind of what was going on, as he wasn't even so sure himself. He cast him a dismissive grin and moved to exit the dorm's door, whose exit he realized too late was not the widening entrance of their common room, and instead a shimmering blur of colors that churned against each other much like the colors oil makes in water against the sun. As his foot stepped through the doorway, where it should've met the floor, there was no surface and he found himself falling into nothingness all the while Blaise stood there in the dorm, listening to his receding steps.
A/N: Well there you have it, my quickest update in months. The next chapter will be up by Monday, stay tuned!