A conversation between Albus Dumbledore and Hermione Granger.
Hogwarts Hospital Wing [June 1992]
The night was still. Outside, the castle grounds stretched into darkness, the Forbidden Forest a silent silhouette against the moonlit sky.
Hermione Granger tiptoed past Madam Pomfrey's office, heart pounding. She knew she wasn't supposed to be here after hours, but she couldn't help it.
Harry was still unconscious.
Ron had already fallen asleep in the bed beside him, his bandaged arms sticking out from beneath the blanket. Hermione had tried to sleep, she really had - but the images of the night before wouldn't leave her. The fire, the chess game, the potions test, Quirrell.
And then Harry - brave, foolish Harry - facing Voldemort - it had to be Voldemort - for the Philosopher's Stone.
She just needed to see him, just for a moment, to make sure he was really there.
As she turned the corner, the soft glow of candlelight flickered near Harry's bedside.
Hermione froze.
Someone was already there.
It took only a second to recognize the silver beard, the half-moon glasses reflecting the dim light.
Professor Dumbledore.
He sat in the chair beside Harry's bed, his hands folded on his lap, his gaze fixed on the boy sleeping before him.
For a fleeting moment, Hermione considered slipping away unnoticed. But something in Dumbledore's expression stopped her - something she had never seen before.
He looked… old.
Not just in years, but in weight, as though he carried something far heavier than time itself.
"Miss. Granger."
She stiffened. He hadn't even turned.
"Come in, my dear," Dumbledore said softly. "No need to hide."
Hermione hesitated but stepped forward, her fingers twisting the sleeve of her robes. "I - I was just checking on Harry."
Dumbledore nodded. "A noble reason to break curfew, I daresay." His voice held a trace of amusement, but the usual twinkle in his eyes was missing.
Hermione bit her lip, glancing at Harry. He looked peaceful now, his glasses placed neatly on the table beside him, his breathing steady. It was hard to believe that just hours ago, he had fought for his life.
She turned back to Dumbledore. "Will he be okay?"
Dumbledore smiled gently. "He will." A pause. Then, "He is stronger than he knows."
Hermione nodded, but something still gnawed at her.
"Professor?" Hermione's voice was barely above a whisper.
Dumbledore turned to her, his blue eyes twinkling softly in the dim light. "Yes, Miss Granger?"
She hesitated, glancing at Harry before speaking. "I don't understand… why didn't he know? About the Stone? About - " she swallowed, voice lowering, "him?"
Dumbledore was silent for a moment.
Hermione bit her lip. "It's just - Harry had no idea what he was walking into. And he - " she took a shaky breath, "he nearly - and you had a suspicion, but you - "
She couldn't say it.
Dumbledore's gaze was kind, but there was something unreadable beneath it.
"What would you have me tell him, Miss Granger?" he asked gently.
Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "I… I don't know." She looked at Harry again, her fingers twisting the hem of her robe. "I just - I feel like he deserves to know things. Important things."
Dumbledore sighed, folding his hands in his lap. "And so he shall, in time."
Hermione frowned slightly but didn't argue. There was something in his voice - something heavy, something sad - that made her hesitate.
It wasn't that he didn't care. If anything… it seemed to be the opposite.
Hermione swallowed. "You knew his parents."
It wasn't really a question, but Dumbledore nodded all the same.
"Yes," he murmured. "I knew them well."
Something about the way he said it - the quiet ache in his voice - made Hermione's stomach twist.
"I - I don't think he knows how much you cared about them," she admitted. Or him, she added in her mind.
Dumbledore's fingers tapped lightly against the armrest of the chair. "No," he said after a long moment. "I imagine he does not."
Hermione hesitated. It was a strange question but she had to ask, "Did you love them?"
Dumbledore turned to her fully now, and for the first time, Hermione saw true sadness in his expression.
"Yes," he said simply. "Very much."
Hermione swallowed hard. She had expected some polite response - something about how James and Lily were wonderful students, how they were brave and talented. But this…
This was something deeper.
"They were not just my students," Dumbledore continued softly. "They were my family. The Order of the Phoenix… I imagine you might have heard about it, was more than a group of fighters, Miss Granger. It was a home built in a time of war."
Hermione blinked. She had heard of the Order, of course - whispers, mostly, from older students.
Dumbledore sighed. "I remember the day James first held Harry in his arms. He was so incredibly proud. And Lily - " His voice caught, just for a second. "Lily loved that boy more than life itself."
Hermione felt a lump rise in her throat.
"They would have done anything for him," Dumbledore said quietly. "And in the end, they did."
Silence.
Hermione bit her lip. "Harry doesn't remember them."
"No," Dumbledore agreed. "But he feels them."
Hermione frowned. "What do you mean?"
Dumbledore smiled slightly. "Love is a strange thing, Miss Granger. It does not disappear simply because someone is gone." He glanced at Harry, his expression unreadable. "He may not remember their faces, their voices… but he carries their love with him every day."
Hermione followed his gaze, her throat tight.
"He should know," she whispered. "He should know how much he was loved."
Dumbledore smiled, but it was a sad smile. "Yes. And one day, he will."
Hermione frowned, frustrated. "But why not tell him now?"
Dumbledore was quiet for a long moment. Then, softly, "Because he is still a child, Miss Granger."
Hermione opened her mouth, but Dumbledore held up a hand.
"I do not say this to diminish him," he continued gently. "Harry is braver than most grown men. But courage does not make one ready for every burden at once."
Hermione hesitated, considering this.
Dumbledore's voice softened. "You are wise beyond your years, Miss Granger. And I have no doubt that one day, Harry will need friends like you to help him carry the truth." He looked at her knowingly. "But for now… let him be a boy."
Hermione swallowed.
She looked at Harry again. He shifted slightly in his sleep, unaware of the weight of the world that rested on his shoulders.
Maybe Dumbledore was right. Maybe Harry deserved to just be twelve a little longer. He hadn't had a chance yet. He should have as much time as he wants.
Even if, deep down, Hermione knew that time was running out.
She sighed. "You love him too, don't you?"
Dumbledore looked at her, eyes twinkling.
"With all my heart."
Hermione blinked rapidly, nodding. "Then one day… you should tell him."
Dumbledore chuckled softly. "Perhaps."
Hermione smiled faintly, stepping back. "Goodnight, Professor."
"Goodnight, Miss Granger."
She turned and slipped quietly out of the hospital wing, leaving the Headmaster alone once more.
Dumbledore watched Harry for a moment longer, then sighed.
"Yes," he whispered, barely audible. "One day."
And in the candlelight, the greatest wizard of the age sat beside a sleeping boy - his most important charge, his greatest hope and his own piece of soul - wondering when the day would come that Harry would finally understand.
The End.