19 Chapter 19

So, with a great deal of annoyance, Harry wrote a reply, on paper, telling the next unfortunate reader that he had no previous contact with this "magical" world, had no clue what they were talking about, and had no intention of taking this pathetic excuse of a hoax seriously unless someone was going to take the trouble to enlighten him as to why they wanted him of all people to learn to pull rabbits out of hats.

The letter, which might as well have been called a muggle howler, was held out to the poor brown bird who was perched outside. And obedient as ever, the bird took on new cargo and prepared to fly all the way back to Scotland, again. Thankfully, a conveniently timed gust of wind took it up to a great height in no time, reducing the work the owl had to do and pushing back the time it would take. Down below, Harry watched it fly off, knowing that soon he would be thrust into this seemingly crazy world, which had him learning such odd subjects as "transfiguration".

XXX

To say that Minerva McGonagall was not amused would be a terrible understatement. She was literally steaming from the ears, though that may have something to do with the little bottle she took a swig out of just before rushing out of her office. Looking at her, one might have been tempted to say that she was angry at the letter she had just received from one Harry James Potter, but then, one would have been only partially correct. For while it was true that the letter was the cause of this eruption of curses (not from her wand mind you) that McGonagall was currently letting, it was not the sender that was the target of this string of obscenities that would have sent a Death Eater blushing. No, her enemy lay entrenched in his stone fortress, guarded by a gargoyle that refused to give her right of passage.

"Albus! You will let me in right this instant! You and I have some matters to discuss!" She would later be very embarrassed about the way she had behaved, and did apologize, but at the moment, she was far too gone to bother with such niceties.

Said Albus was a very wise man, for he did not immediately let her through. An angry Minerva was like an out of control storm. There would be no telling what that woman would do when she was in one of her moods. And the headmaster remembered the last time that she had gotten worked up. She had turned his precious office into a pile of rubble. Thankfully, he had been one of the few people who could reverse the transfigurations that had demolished his office, but it had taken a while still. This was one woman who was not afraid of the great Albus Dumbledore. And it was at moments like this, that he wished she was.

McGonagall however didn't wait too long. She merely transfigured the stone gargoyle into a paperweight, which she promptly sent flying down the hallway with a sturdy kick. Then she climbed up the moving stairs, looking for all intents and purposes like an avenging goddess of destruction.

"Albus Dumbledore! Will you explain yourself?" she shouted as soon as she reached the top and flung open the door. The headmaster however was quite unruffled and smiled pleasantly, twinkling eyes and all. Internally, he thanked Merlin he had not locked the door. His deputy might have reached the conclusion that he was hiding.

McGonagall was not amused. However, just as she was about to shout again, Dumbledore opened his mouth to say something. She paused a fraction of a second, waiting for what he would say.

Dumbledore had calmly opened a drawer and retrieved a bowl. He popped something into his mouth and then offered the bowl to his fuming adversary, still smiling. "Lemon drop?"

McGonagall looked speechless. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, without uttering a sound. Then she smiled sweetly in that fashion that only an enraged goddess of destruction can achieve, and said "Why, no thank you Headmaster." and promptly sat down. that she was fingering her wand did not go unnoticed. Neither was the fact that magic was rolling around her person like a tropical squall.

Dumbledore, ever thankful for small favors, decided to quickly get his few words in before she started again. "Minerva! What can I do for you?" he asked jovially, as if it was the most normal thing in the world and she had not just been shouting at him, for what reason he still didn't know.

McGonagall it seemed, had suddenly realized that latter detail too, for she got to her point in a much more subdued manner. But nobody could deny that her words held a strong sense of reproach in them.

"Headmaster, can you please tell me what this means?"

She handed over the letter, the same piece of paper that was Harry's reply. Dumbledore took it and adjusted his half moon glasses, reading the letter with an air that grew more despondent as his eyes traveled down. At the end he simply sighed, shocking McGonagall, who had not seen him do such a thing since the war trials had finished. At the moment, he really looked like a broken man.

"Headmaster?" McGonagall asked tentatively. The sight of him frowning was quite disturbing indeed.

Dumbledore looked at her gravely. The letter had destroyed a bit of himself. His decision it seemed, had worked too well. When young Harry had been sent to the Dursleys, in spite of their opinion of magic, he had silenced his misgivings with the thought that Harry would be well taken care of. He told himself that the ordinary muggle middle class family would provide an ideal home where Harry could grow up without the adoration of a grateful wizarding world to corrupt his developing mind. The same family that had produced Lily Evans would do the same for Harry Potter, that was his guiding assumption. He had assumed that Lily's sister would eventually tell the boy about his heritage. After all, while she was neither witch nor squib, she was no stranger to the magical world.

When Petunia was very young, a certain Severus Snape had discovered that his neighbor, a young Lily Evans was a witch. He immediately proceeded to inform her of the fact. Their conversations, while hushed were certainly overheard by the young Petunia, who as a result knew more about the wizarding world than she let on. Also, she had seen Dumbledore, who had paid a visit to reinforce the message about taking care of Harry. Apparently, the situation hadn't worked quite the way Dumbledore had assumed and planned for. The letter in front of him was shouting this at him.

His decision at the time had also been influenced by what he had deduced about the situation from the facts at hand. That night, when he had stepped through the nearly destroyed Potter home, he had reached only one conclusion. Whether by chance or design, the innocent Lily had invoked the ancient magics of sacrificial protection. It was a forgotten snippet he read a long time ago from a book that no longer existed that had even suggested its possibility. The fact that she had been able to invoke it at all was astounding. He had always known that Lily was a bright girl, so in the end he concluded that she had done it purposely, that girl had actually planned for the terrible possibility that had unfolded! Now, his only task was to somehow protect her son so that her sacrifice was not in vain. Riddle may have been ended but his Death Eaters were still free. That fear would be justified when mere days later the Longbottoms were attacked, and the couple left in a state worse than death. But he had made a split second decision while still in that burning shell of a home, one he would later convince himself was the right one, until now.

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