Author's note: Hello gorgeous people, I hope you are doing well! Here is a new chapter! - Enjoy -
February 1997: The Fourth Lesson (Part 1)
A boy with jet black hair climbed the flight of stairs that led to the second-floor and quickened his pace inside the hallway, for he was awaited and did not want to be late. He stopped in front of the gargoyle, which gave its name to the place, and the boy looked at its bulging eyes and hideous grin for a second. He whispered "Acid Pops" in haste and the gargoyle turned on itself, revealing a staircase in the nook of the wall.
The scent of freshly waxed floor, mixed with the smoked smell of incense tickled his nostrils. The dimmed light of the fire in the hearth casted his shadow against the walls and the high bookshelves. The boy adjusted his round glasses on his nose and he looked around in search of the Headmaster.
"Professor Dumbledore?" he asked, but nothing other than the tick-tock of the clock echoed his call.
He took a few steps inside the office, walking cautiously as if he was not supposed to be here. Yet he had an appointment with the wizard, and he glanced at the room he was accustomed to by now, for it was not the first time he benefitted from the Headmaster's private lessons. His eyes fixed on the desk, where laid a metal basin, and he peeked at the insides of the bowl, contemplating the runes and diverse symbols engraved in the material which he was not able to decipher. Next to it, something attracted his attention: a grey folder, time-worn, thick, about the size of his index finger in depth. Its spine was directed towards him and he could notice the numerous folds that marked the cartoned paper which led him to assume that the folder had been consulted countless times.
On its cover, three words, hastily written in capital letters.
The Selwyn Case.
The boy tried to recollect whether he ever encountered such name in Hogwarts, and after long minutes of consideration, nothing came to his mind. Glancing around him as if to make sure no one was watching, he brushed the cover from the tip of his fingers.
"Good evening, Harry!"
The boy jumped, as if caught red-handed and he quickly removed his hand from the file. The Headmaster's silhouette had suddenly Apparated inside his office with a small "pop".
"My apologies for the delay… I was caught in a very exciting game of chess with an old friend of mine!"
Harry wondered who won the game but did not ask, afraid the question would be judged inappropriate. Dumbledore took off his coat, which flew to the hatstand in the corner of the room, while he glanced at the boy from behind his half-moon shaped spectacles.
"Go on. Have a look" he encouraged him with a cheerless voice that contrasted with his gaiety from right before.
Harry looked back at the grey folder and opened it hesitantly. Inside, a pile of documents, topped by an envelope that he moved to the side in order to get a proper look at the first page. It seemed like a report, something official, for it held the seal of the Ministry of Magic. Looking at it more closely, Harry noticed the small letters carved inside the wax, that read "Department of Magical Law Enforcement". The page looked like a table of content of what the folder shall contained and above the presupposed list of documents, a line, indicating "Case S785A"
The boy's eyes moved from the mentions below: from "Birth Certificate" which was supposed to be located on page 2, to "Expert Report" on page 9.
Harry assumed the file contained information about some Death Eater he so far never heard of. He grabbed the corner from the table of the between his thumb and index finger, ready to flip the page and glanced at the Professor for approval. Dumbledore closed his eyes in assent and the boy looked at what he expected to be a birth certificate.
Instead, a page that looked much like a letter, a seal at the bottom of the page showing the initials A.D., for Albus Dumbledore? Harry frowned at the subject line: "Request of Early Release from Azkab-"
"Oh, my apologies, what a mess!"
By a wave of his wand, Dumbledore reorganised the folder, the papers neatly sorting themselves in the twinkling of an eye. The letter Harry was looking at slipped out of his sight to slide inside the pile and the envelope that he had previously discarded ended on top of the papers once again. He shot an interrogative glance at the Headmaster who tilted his head, indicating the white envelope. The boy opened it, his fingers slightly trembling in excitement. He wondered who that Selwyn was, and if he truly was one of Voldemort's disciples… If this was the case, why would Dumbledore ask for his liberation from Azkaban?
He pulled out photos, about a dozen, picturing what seemed to be the same woman at different ages throughout her life. His eyebrows furrowed as he glanced at the womanly figure, wondering if she finally was the person this folder was dedicated to. Hermione always pointed to the terrible habit he and Ron both shared, of always assuming that every person they learned the surname of was male. She had made quite the scene last time, after he kept mentioning one author as "he" while she was in fact female. Apparently, Harry's prejudice did not stop at book authors, they also included Death Eaters. He could have known, after all, Bellatrix Lestrange was a very dedicated follower to the Dark Mage.
He began to look at each photo but was too lost in his own thoughts to show any real interest.
One picture, though, attracted his attention, a group photo, with two young people standing on the front. Hundreds of guests were gathered for what seemed like a wedding, given the outfit of them all. Harry squinted, bringing the photograph closer to his eyes for he could not distinguish who those people were. He guessed the woman on the left was the same as the one on the previous pictures, but he could not make out who the young man standing next to her was.
He discarded the photograph on the desk, picking up the pile of images he had yet to inspect.
The next photograph showed the same woman, alone, her upper body framed by the camera as she was holding an enormous bouquet of white carnation flowers. She was looking down, reserved, but her features betrayed her mischief as if she was trying to conceal an impish smile. Her hair the colour of chestnuts, attached in what seemed like a half updo under her veil, revealing her high cheekbones and the thinness of her nose. Her complexion was warm, brown against the paleness of her gown. She glanced up, suddenly revealing incisive grey eyes, framed by long and dense eyelashes and she romantically fluttered before looking down again.
Harry placed the photo next to the others in a gesture that conveyed his boredom, for he did not understand what he was meant to find in the wedding pictures of some woman he had never met, no matter how beautiful as she was.
He picked the next one and this time, his eyes widened. He glanced at the photo showing the young couple from up close and gasped at the recognition of the man standing next to the lady from before. He shot an incredulous look at Dumbledore, who was now standing behind his desk.
"Is… Is that…"
Words struggled to form in Harry's mouth for he did not know how he should name him. He stared at the young man, acknowledging his graceful features, the very dark of his hair, the noble way he was lifting his chin. He was wearing a tailcoat suit, cordially smiling at the objective after he shot at the young woman what seemed like a loving glance.
Harry shook his head in disbelief and picked up the last picture, on which the young couple was walking, presumably after the ceremony ended. The young man was looking at his wife, holding her hand, seemingly leading her with a gentle yet decisive gesture. She was timidly looking away but giggled after he mouthed something to her and she shot him a glance as she grinned. She finally looked straight at the lens and Harry squirmed, for her piercing gaze made him uncomfortable and his eyes fixed their intertwined fingers instead, recognising the ring on the man's digit, the one that concealed the resurrection stone.
"There is more on the back" indicated the wizard in a serious tone as he pulled his own chair and sat down.
Harry's fingers cautiously turned around the photograph and the boy stared at the neat writing.
"Anna's and Tom's Wedding, June 1945"
Stunned, he sat down. He looked at the picture again and was struck by the sincerity he thought he was seeing on young Voldemort's face, the apparent tenderness with which he was looking at the young woman.
Dumbledore waved his wand and a parchment from inside the folder moved outside the pile and flew all the way to his hands. The old wizard read out loud:
"The lawful union of Miss Annabel Sybil Selwyn, born 28 June 1927, daughter of Zeena Noor Selwyn, née Shafiq, and Amsden Bolton Selwyn; and Tom Marvolo Riddle, born 31 December 1926, son of Merope Riddle, née Gaunt, fatherless, was officially solemnised on 30 June 1945 by Fionan Macanguss in the Selwyn Domain, Park Road, Castle Combe, Wiltshire, England"
"Some of these photos were lent to me with the courtesy of the Selwyn family. The others… belong to my own collection"
He discarded the letter on his desk and looked at Harry.
"I am standing in the back" he indicated, his voice quavering ever so slightly.
"You… you were there?" whispered Harry who looked at the photo again, for the first time acknowledging the tall silhouette on the lowest row of the wedding guests.
"I was, indeed"
Dumbledore stared at the photo Harry was holding, quietly, until he shook his head as if he was suddenly assailed by unwelcome thoughts. The room was very still, to the exception of the phoenix who shook himself every now and then, just like a dog would do.
"I thought he was incapable of loving someone…" whispered Harry after a while.
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and moved forward, resting both elbows on the arms of his chair. He crossed his hands in front of his face and tilted his head to the right, as if Harry's words were of utmost importance.
"What makes you believe he loved her?"
His voice was calm, yet, Harry felt the dismay right below the surface of the Headmaster's words. The boy opened his mouth and closed it again, frowning as if he could not answer that question. He shrugged, simply saying what he believed was as clear as day.
"Well he married her, didn't he?"
Dumbledore's lips formed a quiet "Ah" and he had a small, saddened smile.
"Sadly marriage isn't always about love, Harry"