Temporal Paradox: The Second Chance of Harry Potter

Chapter 39: Chapter 39: Pardon Me, Headmaster?



November 15th, 1976

 

"ALBUS!"

 

The Hogwarts headmaster was in his private quarters all set for bed when he heard a shout that made him hurry back to his office in curiosity.

 

"Be quiet, Dilys, some of us are actually trying to sleep here!"

 

"This is serious, Phineas, I need to talk to the headmaster right now. ALBUS!"

 

"I'm here, Dilys." The headmaster scooped around the corner, his eyes darting up to the portrait of his predecessor: "What is it? Has there been another attack?"

 

"No, not that Albus." The former healer shook her head: "However, the Peverell boy just left the hospital wing after Madam Pomfrey pieced him back together."

 

Albus immediately went to his desk and took out some parchment and ink, eager to learn more about the boy: "What exactly did you witness, Dilys?"

 

"The boy couldn't even walk by himself when he entered the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey had to levitate him to one of the beds. He was covered in blood and was suffering severe pain."

 

"How did Poppy treat him?" Albus frowned: "Did he mention what happened to him or perhaps the Matron uncovered the cause from her diagnostic charm analysis.?"

 

The portrait nodded solemnly: "Apparently he lost almost a third of his blood. In addition, his internal organs had been damaged by whatever he suffered. There were long cuts on his wrists, so Madam Pomfrey assumed he might have dabbled into a ritual and it somehow went wrong."

 

"A ritual?" Albus paused his writing and stared up at the woman's frame: "Sacrificial blood magic perhaps."

 

"I assume the same." Dilys confirmed: "I wish I could take a look at the boy myself. Ritualistic blood magic was a much more common practice during my time."

 

It was a branch of magic Albus himself had briefly dabbled with in his youth. The benefits of certain rituals were worth their sacrifices, yet luckily Albus and Gellert both had the peace of mind to stop before things spiraled out of control. 

 

'Rituals change not only your body and magic but also your mind and personality.'

 

Images of Tom Riddle during their last encounter flashed before his mind. Pale, unhealthy skin, crimson red eyes, and volatile, dark magic...

 

"Did he say anything else?"

 

"He only reminded Madam Pomfrey of her oath as a healer several times. In fact, he was very insistent that no one else learned about his stay with her, especially you and his Head of House." The woman shared: "He refused to stay overnight and left. On his way there he saw me, but I managed to avoid whatever spell he cast on my frame and slipped back here in the knick of time."

 

"So he knows that I have been informed by you." Albus hummed thoughtfully.

 

"Preposterous!" Amando Dippet declared: "A student attacking a portrait of a previous headmistress would have gotten him expelled in my time!"

 

"We can't exactly blame him..." Dilys rolled her eyes: "I listened in on a private interaction between a healer and her patient. I only violated my own principles because the matter seemed of utmost importance. You have a student dabbling in dangerous ritualistic magic Albus. You need to do something."

 

"I was planning on talking with the boy before the Christmas break anyway." The headmaster nodded his head in agreement: "Yet I doubt we will learn much about his motives or any further details about the ritual itself."

 

His sharp blue eyes darted over the parchment filled with notes about the boy: 'Why exactly do you feel the need to resort to such measures to become stronger, my boy?'

 

November 16th, 1976

 

"Good morning, love." Marlene slipped into the seat beside him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

 

She was about to retrieve her lips and start her usual breakfast routine when she caught a small ripple at the corner of her boyfriend's eye.

 

'What was that?'

 

"Is that a glamor charm, Harry?" She asked in amusement and brought her finger up to touch his skin: "The girls our age apply it a bit better you know..."

 

"Don't!" His hand seized her wrists in a tight grip, making the sleeve of his 

robe hitch down a few inches. 

 

White bandages were applied to his forearms, a faint crimson shining underneath them. Her eyes darted up to meet his face, where she spotted clear signs of a lack of sleep, like his bloodshot eyes. Parts of his skin had a grayish tone to them looking extremely unhealthy.

 

"What did you do?" Marlene hissed in whispers and yanked her hand free from his grip.

 

Harry's eyes darted around them and up to the teachers' table: "Not here!"

 

"Yes, here!" Marlene replied angrily: "Cast a privacy spell if you have to!"

 

"I- I can't." He swallowed.

 

Marlene stared at him dumbfounded. She saw the tip of the pale Elder Wand poking out from one sleeve. 'Why the hell couldn't he cast it?'

 

"Fine." She whispered and flickered her own wand from her waist. Murmuring under her breath Marlene quickly conjured a few wards that would allow them not to be overheard by anyone close by. 'They were not as strong as Harry's, but they would do.'

 

"What happened to you, Harry?" Her fingers crawled up to his sleeve to expose the heavy bandages once more: "You look horrible even with the glamor charm. I don't even want to know what you look like without it!"

 

Her boyfriend rubbed his temples and sighed: "Things spiraled out of control last night." He avoided her eyes and looked back down at his plate: "I attempted a ritual and underestimated the sacrifice."

 

'Ritualistic magic.'

 

Marlene's thoughts swirled to the conversation they had about soul fragments and Horcruxes. Her eyes widened in horror. "You didn't- "

 

"No, of course not!" Harry quickly shook his head and seized her hands: "Not that kind of ritual. It was one that will make me powerful and allow my magical core to grow quicker."

 

"You don't look the least more powerful, you foolish boy!" She cupped his cheek and turned his face towards her: "Why can't you cast magic? What went wrong?!"

 

"Mother Magic requires all things to be kept in balance." Harry's fingers trembled while he brought a glass of water to his lips: "A sacrifice must always be worth the perceived benefits of a ritual..."

 

"And you sacrificed too much because of your fanatical desire to fight this war by yourself!" Marlene forced her own voice to remain low: "How could you be so stupid to attempt something like that without me supervising you?"

 

"I had to do it alone." Harry's eyes narrowed: "Your presence might have shifted my sacrifice into a direction I don't even want to think about."

 

"But-"

 

"Sometimes things are worth sacrificing." Harry's knuckles tightened around his fork: "Last night I sacrificed blood and physical pain I have never encountered before. Neither of them lasts forever…" 

 

His eyes turned cold and hard: "Other things are not worth sacrificing. You are one of them."

 

"Should I feel flattered now?" Marlene huffed: "How long is this going to last?" She gestured for his face and the bandaged wrists: "And why can't you cast any magic right now? Did something go wrong?"

 

"No." Harry shook his head: "Everything went as it should have. I simply held on for a bit too long."

 

He ignored her snort and continued: "My body and magic are recovering from the extreme stress. Madam Pomfrey estimated that it might take up to a week until I can cast again without issues."

 

"You went to the Matron with these kinds of injuries?!" Marlene asked in disbelief: "Why would you do that?"

 

"I had to." Her boyfriend grimaced.

 

"I know you, Harry, and you would not have gone to her unless absolutely necessary." 'How close had things gone last night.' "You almost died, didn't you?"

 

He avoided her eyes again and swallowed heavily: "I didn't die. That's all that matters now. I'm sorry for causing you to worry, but there are certain steps I have to take. Some sacrifices are necessary."

 

Marlene forced herself to close her eyes and took a deep claiming breath: "Are you planning to do any more dangerous rituals of this kind? Should I get used to knowing you might have been close to death without telling me?"

 

"I'm really sorry." Her boyfriend cringed and his eyes softened: "I keep dragging you deeper and deeper into my problems."

 

"That's not even what I'm asking about, Harry." She leaned her head against his shoulder, seized his trembling fingers, and trailed soft circles on the back of his hand until his body stopped stiffening and he relaxed: "Your troubles and fights became ours the moment I decided to allow you into my heart. I'm yours and therefore I'm with you, Harry. I just need you to allow me to be with you..."

 

He gulped heavily and exhaled: "As soon as my Pensieve arrives, I will try to recreate a ritual from my own memory of reading about it."

 

When her hand tightened its grip on his he pressed a calming kiss to her forehead: "It's just a healing ritual that will allow me to recover more quickly from physical and magical injuries and exhaustion. Only a few drops of blood are needed to power the runes, the rest of the work is done by the ingredients one sacrifices."

 

"Okay." The words left her lips on their own accord: "We will do it together then."

 

"What do you mean?" Harry croaked. "Together?"

 

"Yes." Marlene turned to face him: "It sounds like an advantage that's useful to have, so why shouldn't I do it too? That way we can watch over each other and you're not alone if something goes wrong."

 

His green orbs studied her face for almost half a minute until he swallowed: "Okay. We'll do it together, love."

 

Her heart squirmed and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips: "Any other rituals I should know about? I'm afraid I won't be of any use as a sacrifice now that you've taken my virginity."

 

Harry almost choked on his water.

 

"Not that I'm complaining." She added with a teasing wink: "But thanks to you I'm not so pure and innocent anymore..."

 

"That's not how rituals work at all." Harry snorted audibly and Marlene joined in on the laughter, glad to have taken some of the seriousness of the situation: "However, you might still have to be naked for the healing one... In fact, I'm certain we will both have to be naked for that..."

 

Her eyes narrowed playfully: "You might want to make the most of it then since I'm seriously considering not letting you see me like that for some time after causing me so much worry."

 

"You forgot the rules of Mother Magic..." Harry chuckled. "Because that does not sound like a balanced sacrifice at all." 

 

"Prat!" Marlene laughed, barely stopping herself from slapping his shoulder, but in Harry's current condition, it was probably a bad idea to cause him any more physical harm.

 

"How will you attend classes now that you can't cast any magic for a while?" She asked curiously while helping herself to some breakfast.

 

The spoon paused in front of his mouth and he turned towards her, shooting her a pleading look and attempted large, round puppy eyes: "Pretty please?"

 

"Of course," Marlene sighed: "I'll perform the spells in those classes that we share, but for once I hope we have a theory week ahead of us, for your sake."

 

"So do I" Harry muttered in frustration: "So do I..."

 

November 28th, 1976

 

Almost two weeks had passed since Harry had attempted the ritual. Following Madam Pomfrey's and Aurelius' advice, he had refrained from casting any magic during his classes and his free time. It had been a very humbling experience for Harry. Once you use magic for everything, including the most mundane things, doing them the muggle way was a bigger nuisance than he could have ever imagined.

 

Thankfully Marlene had been by his side the entire time and supported him as best as she could, be it making sure he ate for his body to recover or performing the spells for him in class. Nevertheless, it had still been rather difficult to come up with excuses in his core wand classes. Professors like McGonagall and Flitwick would not be fooled by such simple tricks, so Harry had to get rather creative.

 

It had been almost like a renaissance when he finally allowed himself to cast again, especially since he noticed the tiniest refinements in his magic. Over time the ritual's benefits would accumulate. It did not outright grant him more power, but simply accelerated the rate at which his own core could improve and grow, almost like a muscle.

 

The only issue he found himself in, was that Dumbledore had been informed about his injuries by the portrait in the infirmary. It had been a rather foolish mistake to overlook this method of communication in the first place. Madam Pomfrey might be bound by an oath, however, some former headmistress was free to listen in on their conversation and report as much as she pleased. 

 

What surprised Harry was that he had not yet been called up to Dumbledore's office. The ancient headmaster was already wary of him. Add to that the fact that he almost caught Harry and Marlene up on the seventh floor and the glances he directed at Harry when they brought the first victim up the hospital wing, one might assume the headmaster would snatch the opportunity like a ripe fruit.

 

However, the headmaster's behavior had not changed at all, with the exception that the man's twinkling peeks more often than not came to rest on Harry during mealtime in the Great Hall. 

 

'What was he waiting for?'

'What kind of game was playing?'

 

His musings were interrupted when he spotted an ordinary brown owl leaving the flog of post birds and heading straight to him at the Gryffindor table.

 

"Do you think it's ready?" Marlene placed her blonde curls over one shoulder and leaned over to him, eyeing the letter warily.

 

"I do hope so." His heart started beating a tad faster, having a suspicion what the missive might be about. He quickly unwrapped the letter attached to the owl's leg and opened the envelope while allowing his girlfriend to read over his shoulder:

 

Dear Mr. Peverell,

 

We are delighted to share that your order has arrived in our shop and may be picked up by yourself at our primary location in Knockturn Alley 15, during our regular business hours. We took the freedom to verify the product's functionality and can report that your specific customizations have been successfully integrated.

 

Upon your arrival, you will have to fill out and sign the respective transaction statements for Gringotts wizarding bank to ensure a smooth transfer of the second half of the payment. As a reminder, the second payment amounts to a total of 7.500 Galleons, which equals 50,0% of the original price we offered our services, therefore completing our business venture.

 

Your owl will find us should you have any more questions. It has been a pleasure to do business with you and we hope to see you in our store soon.

 

Best regards,

Magnus Moribund

Moribund's Ancient Magical Artifacts 

(Import, Export, and Repairs)

 

"That's a lot of Galleons." Marlene whistled; her eyebrows raised as she glimpsed over the number once more: "15,000 Galleons is more than either of my brothers will earn during their first five years as an Auror combined."

 

"What's their salary?" Harry asked curiously while storing the letter safely within his robes.

 

"It's 1.000 Galleons a year and increases by 100 Galleons each year they serve." Marlene hummed while finishing her breakfast: "But they also have other benefits. For example, they will never pay for visits at Saint Mungo's and if they ever find themselves unable to continue serving, they will still be paid 40% of their last salary."

 

"I didn't even know wizards had healthcare and life insurance policies." Harry snorted: "15,000 Galleons is a lot of gold, but it's totally worth it. The Pensieve will last over a lifetime and will remain in the Peverell family for generations. Besides, I can afford it, so why not?"

 

"You certainly can." Marlene chuckled: "I saw your latest Gringotts statement. Your strategy for picking muggle and wizarding businesses makes my father look like an amateur and he studied investment strategies from the Goblins and even the muggles and their stock market." 

 

"How do you know that?" Harry said, quirking an eyebrow.

 

"I once caught him reading a finance magazine" She giggled in a whisper.

 

"We can't have that make the rounds in the Wizengamot." Harry chuckled.

 

She shook her head in amusement, letting her blonde curls swing from left to right: "Still, it's almost like you know exactly which companies to pick."

 

'That's because I do.' Harry grinned. "I presume I've got a hand for it."

 

She rolled her eyes: "You're being modest. The Nimbus company is one of the fastest growing ever. Father told me they have received orders from multiple major European professional Quidditch teams already."

 

"How very fortunate." Harry heaved the blonde onto his lap by her waist and grinned up at her: "Should I be worried that you're only after me because of my gold? The muggles have a term for it, you know. They call them Gold-Diggers..."

 

Marlene wrinkled her nose: "Don't get too excited. Your fortune does not rival ours yet, Harry."

 

"I don't presume it will any time soon, since now I have to spend my gold on expensive gifts to keep my pureblood girlfriend happy." Harry's eyes dipped to slightly above her cleavage, where Slytherin's necklace and dark blue gemstone sparkled in the light.

 

"You don't need expensive gifts to make me a happy witch, Harry." Marlene batted her eyelashes and placed her hands around his neck.

 

"Ms. McKinnon and Mr. Peverell!" A harsh voice interrupted them.

 

"Oh no!" Marlene quickly slipped off his lap when they caught the transfiguration professor approaching their end of the table: "That's not good."

 

"I remember explicitly telling you at the beginning of term to keep any public display of affection to a minimum." She flared her nostrils and glared down at them.

 

"Sorry, Professor." Harry said, having the decency to look slightly ashamed. 

 

After all the time he spent with her in his original timeline after the end of the war, getting caught by Minerva was the equivalent of being caught by a grandmother or aunt to him.

 

"The next time I catch the two of you it will be House points or detention. Separate detentions, Peverell!" She added with impossible thin lips after seeing the boy's hopeful expression. "You're a Prefect, Ms. McKinnon. I need you to be a role model for younger students, not give them the false impressions that exchanges of physical intimacy are appropriate."

 

"I understand, Professor." Marlene gulped with a small blush on her cheeks and itched a few more inches away from Harry.

 

"Now then, Peverell." The woman addressed him once more: "My original reason for seeking you out this morning was to inform you that you shall meet the headmaster tonight at 8.00 pm in his office. The password is 'Rainbow licorice.'"

 

She flared her nostrils: "Make sure you're on time." With that, she turned on the spot and headed back to the teachers' table.

 

"It's fine." Harry squeezed Marlene's hand underneath the table and eased her worried expression: "I knew this was coming and prepared myself for it."

 

Headmaster's office

 

"Enter!"

 

Albus stored away some rolls of parchments he had been pondering over in the drawers under his desk. 

 

'Not that he had actually gotten far.'

 

The only thing that occupied his thoughts for the last two hours was the imminent conversation with one of his students.

 

Harry Ignotus Peverell's tall frame entered the office, his eyes quickly taking in each corner. Holding out his hand to Fawkes so the Phoenix may gently nib on it, he confidently walked over until he stood in front of Albus' desk: "You wished to see me, headmaster?"

 

"I did, my boy, thank you for coming." He gestured to the chair with a smile: "Please take a seat, we have much to discuss."

 

Peverell calmly sat down and placed his hands on the table. Albus was unable to spot any bandages on his wrists, merely the edge of a leathery wand holster, and the tip of a familiar pale wand peeked out underneath his back school uniform.

 

'His companion...'

'Now bonded to another.'

 

Peverell smiled at him expectantly. If the boy felt uncomfortable, he did not show any signs of it. He truly was an accomplished occlumens for his age.

 

"How was your summer, my boy?" Albus tried to start on a friendly note: "As far as I've been told you spent your holidays with the Potters?"

 

"You are correct, Headmaster." Peverell inclined his head for a small smile: "Upon their suggestion, I even managed to visit the small village of Godric's Hollow nearby. I was surprised to discover that we both had relatives living there at some point, sir"

 

'He knew.'

 

The underlying message was quite clear. Peverell wanted to get straight to the point and he would not hesitate to make the conversation uncomfortable for Albus should the headmaster diverge any further.

 

Albus' demeanor slipped ever so slightly before he could stop it and force a smile back on his face: "It's been a while since I visited. Perhaps I shall make the trip next Christmas."

 

Peverell remained silent and simply looked at him curiously, not bothering to reply to that.

 

"I was hoping you could tell me about an injury you suffered two weeks ago." Albus began hesitantly: "I was very concerned about you when I heard of it."

 

"Ah yes." A familiar cold smile flashed on the boy's face. He turned his head upwards and spotted the portrait of Dilys Derwent on the wall to his left: "Good evening Mrs. Derwent. I hope I didn't scare you during our last encounter."

 

The woman gulped heavily in her frame: "I merely felt it was my duty to report such serious injuries to the acting headmaster."

 

"I'm sure you did, even with my own rights and opinions being deemed irrelevant." Harry turned his attention back to Albus and inclined his head: "Well, I appreciate the concern, but I can assure you there is nothing to worry about. The next day I already felt significantly better and there are no lingering after-effects one might have to worry about."

 

'Are there really?'

 

"I presume you mean no negative after effect." Albus folded his hands.

 

"Pardon me, Headmaster?"

 

"My boy, did you truly believe accomplished healers like Dilys Derwent and Poppy Pomfrey didn't spot the clear signs of a sacrificial ritual?" 

 

He chuckled: "Blood loss due to cuts on your wrists. Headaches, and internal damage to your organs, muscles, and other tissue. And let us not forget the fact that you even avoided casting magic for almost a week after the incident."

 

A flicker of irritation sparkled in the boy's green orbs. Albus smiled in triumph: "Yes, Harry. Us teachers are more observant than many students tend to believe.

 

"I simply felt unwell and decided to take it easy for a few days, sir." The boy shrugged his shoulders: "Again, I assure you that I'm perfectly fine now."

 

"I'm certain you are." Albus nodded: "Though I'm curious what kind of benefits your sacrifices granted? I assume it had been some sort of strengthening ritual."

 

When the boy remained quiet Albus continued, seemingly unbothered: "I understand your fascination for this specific branch of magic. I myself have conducted the occasional ritual in my youth, though I think it's best this piece of information stays between us."

 

"Did you, sir?" The boy raised an eyebrow in sincere curiosity: "Of what kind if I may ask?"

 

'Perhaps he could win the boy's trust.'

 

Albus chuckled and gestured for the pair of spectacles on his crooked nose: "I used to wear glasses in my youth until I found an ancient Asian ritual that looked promising enough to fix that disadvantage. Unfortunately, time and old age are two forces that even magic struggles to defeat. Alas, the companion from my youth eventually returned."

 

"How very interesting." Peverell hummed: "It's truly a shame they're considered an illegal branch of blood magic by today's ministry's standard. Imagine how many lives of British witches and wizards could be improved if they became more commonly known and acceptable..."

 

"I agree with you, my boy..." Albus smiled: "And yet, some of them are better to abstain from. Not because I think knowledge should be forbidden, but because of what happens when one takes it too far, just as you did..."

 

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, sir." The boy put a mask of surprise on his face: "My injuries did not result from a ritual. From what little I read about them they are way too risky to be dabbled with as a student. They're also very illegal and too many people would love to see me in trouble with the law right now..."

 

'Very well.'

 

Albus sighed deeply and rubbed his temples. It was obvious that Peverell would not share any details about the ritual with him. 

 

Perhaps it was time to address the second topic then: "Will you at least share where you managed to cast such magic in the castle, Harry? The school's wards are calibrated to detect sorcery as dangerous as that and yet it failed to notify me two weeks ago. I simply wish to know because I believe the perpetrator behind the attack on Ms. Miller might be using similar loopholes. This is only about the safety of my students."

 

"I'm afraid I still can't help you, headmaster." He shook his head apologetically: "I have no idea what you're talking about."

 

"Was it on the second floor then?" Albus regarded him, waiting patiently for any sort of reaction: "After all, you managed to achieve what I thought was impossible and hid a room within Hogwarts by means of the Fidelius?"

 

'There it was again!'

The small flicker of irritation, this time even stronger than before.

 

Albus watched the boy's knuckles twitch ever so slightly: "You seriously believe a mere student was able to cast a piece of magic as advanced as the Fidelius? Something so complex that even the Unspeakables struggle comprehending it?"

 

"A mere student? No, my dear boy." Albus smiled. "You however do possess the necessary power and finesses to do it, as you have proven twice this term."

 

"Of course, you're going to deny it, but our caretaker, the Hogwarts' house elves, all the staff, and even a ghost, who has been living within the bathroom for many years don't simply forget its existence overnight, my boy." 

 

Albus fixed him with a stare: "I don't know what room you managed to hide on the seventh floor, but I have no doubt that it was by the means of Fidelius as well... After all, that's why you brought the lovely Ms. McKinnon with you, didn't you? No soul should be burdened with two secrets..."

 

The boy clenched his jaw, his eyes sparkling in aggravation.

 

"Yes, Harry..." The headmaster chuckled upon witnessing the boy's irritation "Ms. McKinnon's idea of a diversion was very creative but I didn't even have to attempt to breach her well-developed occlumency shields to figure out her intentions behind doing so."

 

Peverell's jaw clenched. Albus seems to have finally hit a sweet spot. 

'The boy's girlfriend...'

 

"You should know, Headmaster, that Britain's oldest Houses, including the McKinnons, do not take kindly for members of their family to have their minds intruded without their permission." 

 

His eyes turned cold, as did the temperature around him: "I suggest you refrain from doing so in the future. The same holds for the rest of the student body."

 

'He's concerned for her safety...

'Or is the safety of his secrets?'

 

Albus beamed, ignoring the hidden warning: "I don't have any need to enter Ms. McKinnon's mind, Harry, and by now it would be very foolish to attempt it. Undoubtedly you have taught her exceptionally well in the mind arts. Though I do wonder what other secrets of yours she might be hiding..."

 

"I think we're done here, Professor." Harry moved to stand. 

 

It was obvious that he was forcing himself to remain calm and composed by now. The topic of his girlfriend seemed to be even more sensitive than Albus could have ever guessed.

 

The headmaster stood up from his chair as well: "I have not dismissed you yet, my boy, so I suggest you remain seated until I permit otherwise."

 

Gone was the good-natured, grandfatherly voice. It was not the language Peverell understood. 'This was the only way.'

 

"Will you stop me from leaving, headmaster?" Peverell slowly turned around, the tip of his wand was poking out from underneath his sleeve.

 

"Don't be foolish, Harry." Albus shook his head: "You are extraordinarily powerful, perhaps more so than I was when I was your age, but a fight against me will do you no good. I'm not your enemy."

 

"Speak then." The boy growled through clenched teeth: "And let us be done with it."

 

Albus waited until Peverell sat back down before he followed his example: "The room you hid on the second floor is the very same room a girl was murdered in almost 30 years ago. The attack, especially the circumstances around it, shows frightening similarities to the one on Ms. Miller and I'm certain the events are connected."

 

Peverell merely listened, not revealing any emotion.

 

"My students are of utmost importance to me, Harry." Albus' voice changed into a pleading whisper: "I understand it was not you that attacked her, but at the same time you clearly know something I missed so far. I urge you to share that knowledge with me. It might help save the life of someone innocent!"

 

"I'm afraid I still can't help you, head-"

 

"ALBUS!" 

 

The Portrait of Dilys Devert shouted from her frame. Her long silver ringlets were in dismay and her cheeks reddened: 

 

"There has been another attack on a student! A Ravenclaw Prefect has just been carried past my frame into the infirmary!"


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