Dumbledore. Ahhhh, Dumbledore, how fanon hates thee. I don't like it. Dumbledore was pretty cool for an old geezer. But hoo boy, fanon loves bashing this guy. Well, screw that. WARNING- infodump. Apologies to anyone serious about religion beforehand-not bashing, but if it offends you…well sorry. Didn't mean to.

Premise: Harry and Dumbledore have one last chat before everything goes to hell. Occurs any time during the 6th book.

Harry walked quietly into the solemn office with all the gravity he could muster in his teenage soul. The man before him smiled quietly over the rims of his half-moon glasses, silently welcoming him.

"You wished to speak with me sir?" Harry asked quietly.

Dumbledore smiled serenely, "Indeed my dear boy, I wished to speak to you." He peered over his glasses a little closer. "Professor McGonagall tells me you have been falling behind in your classes Harry."

Harry stiffened. "I wasn't aware that my studies warranted speaking with the headmaster. Sir." He added hastily.

"Ahh, but you are wrong Harry. Education should be no more than our highest concern." Harry opened his mouth, but Dumbledore forged on, "And yet, that is not what we have to speak of, yes?"

Harry was a little slower to open his mouth this time. "Y-yes. Sir. I, I was wondering…" He slowed down, a pensive expression crossing his face.

"About Tom?" Dumbledore asked quietly. Harry winced, and scratched the back of his head.

"Not really sir…it was, more about Magic."

Dumbledore's eyes slowly twinkled over his frames at this. "Magic in general dear boy? Why, we would be here for weeks if you wished me to tell you all that I know. I have been informed that I am quite the authority on the subject."

Here, Harry laughed nervously. "Not quite sir." Harry swallowed slowly, "I never told you sir, but when I was first buying my wand, Mr. Ollivander…he…he spoke to me about…about Magic, sir."

"Did he now?" Dumbledore asked slowly, his eyes focusing a little more on Harry. "And, what, did Mr. Ollivander tell you Harry?"

"He-He told me that there was no difference between people in magical strength, only in ability. I've always been curious since then, tried to learn more. But sir, I've been curious. What…what is magic? What is it? Why does it do what it does?"

As Harry watched, Dumbledore sank into a contemplative silence, the silence stretching and the wrinkles around the old man's eyes seemingly deeper than ever. Then, slowly, Dumbledore looked up, and smiled, a gentle, kind smile, and let out the briefest of chuckles. "Harry."

Harry sat up a little straighter. "Yes sir?"

"Do you know, why we do not teach about magic in Hogwarts?"

Harry furrowed his brows. "I don't follow sir. This is a school of magic sir. We learn all but nothing else."

"Dear boy, do you believe that you were the first to ask this question? That no one else has ever asked this question? We teach transfiguration, charms, and potions. We teach flying, divination and astronomy. We even teach muggle studies, and yet, nowhere will you find a class about 'basic magic, and how to use it'." Dumbledore allowed his piercing gaze to land on Harry, while still smiling that same, gentle smile. "And yet, have you ever wondered why that is? Why no one has ever tried to study it, pinpoint it?"

Harry swallowed, and admitted that yes, he had given it some thought. "I assumed the Department of Mysteries had…"

"Yes, well, Harry, did you know that not even the Department of Mysteries has ever studied it? Never tried to truly define it? They study emotions, secrets, the future, the mind, and yes, even death. And yet…not magic. Never magic."

"No, sir. I didn't."

Dumbledore's gaze softened, and said "Yes-and that is for a very simple reason."

Harry sat up eagerly. "But, before I tell you-I wish for you to answer a simple question." He deflated again. "Yes, sir."

He smiled kindly. "Harry, when you first saw magic-when Hagrid, as he tells me, burst through that door and into your life. How did you see magic? How did you feel?"

He thought back. "Well, sir. It, it seemed otherworldly. Miraculous."

Dumbledore smiled widely, wider than he had ever seen him smile before. "Exactly Harry. Exactly. Miraculous is a fantastic word for it. That is why we have never studied it."

"I don't follow sir."

He chuckled, a rumbling jolly sound, seemingly far too deep for someone of Dumbledore's slight frame. "We wizards, above all, venerate magic. We are born from it, and for those of us born to wizarding families, it defines us. We love it Harry, because we are blessed by it. You see Harry, that is why very, very few wizards believe in religion. We have no need of it, not when we already have the only God we will every need. Magic, Harry, is our Miracle.

You see Harry, when muggles use science, they create laws. They make a box of rules based around their understanding of the universe, and they sit in it. But, you see, that box is their miracle. Their laws is how they define their world, be they religious laws, or scientific ones.

But magic, magic is different. We do not; will not create laws for it, because we refuse to define it. We refuse to say what it can, or cannot do, because it is our Miracle, and to us, there is nothing it cannot do. So, we do not tell you its laws. Because as long as you believe there are no laws, then you can act like there are no laws."

Harry frowned. "I...I think I get it? Kind of?"

Dumbledore smiled again, seemingly at peace with the discussion. "Allow me to provide an example Harry. If, after 1000 years of research into medical magic, our ancestors had decided that magical healing was impossible, and made rules that stated such, then we would have never developed Healers. Because, we would have continued to believe that it was impossible. But, instead we told ourselves that it was possible, and that it was us that were limited. Thus, finally, we succeeded in magical healing. Because we believed that it was possible, and refused to make any rules to constrain ourselves."

Harry frowned deeper. "But, sir! That's…that's insane! It's totally counterproductive sir! It goes against common sense!"

And Dumbledore laughed, a rich deep sound, and looked fondly upon Harry like he would upon a favorite grandson, and just for a moment Harry wondered if this was what it was like to have family.

"Ahhh, common sense! A favorite topic among muggleborn regarding us wizards. So much of what we do defies logic!

And yet Harry, you must remember. We venerate magic, and we believe in its ability more than anything else. It is everything to us. And really dear boy…

What common sense is there in doing magic?"

That took an…unexpectedly serious turn. Meh. What the muse wants, she gets. Ah, well. I enjoyed writing it.