Potion

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- Harry, calm down, they just don't understand. - Fleur stroked my shoulder soothingly. - You'll see, things will be back to normal soon.

- It won't, Fleur. I've been through a similar situation in my second year, when everyone thought I was the heir to Slytherin. The whole school despised me then, even though it wasn't my fault. It's the same now. But I didn't throw my name in the cup, I just wanted to have a quiet school year. Do you believe me? - Harry looked hopefully at the Beauxbaton champion.

- I do, Harry. I believe you. - She moved closer, and seemed to want to take my hand, but changed her mind at the last moment and bit her lower lip. - Maybe I didn't believe you at first, but that was only because I didn't know you at all. I don't have any doubts now. And I'm sorry for what happened. But don't worry, now that we're closer, I'll help you in any way I can.

I didn't notice the pause in her sentence as I continued to lament the fact that everyone had turned their backs on me.

- Dumbledore did it, I'm sure. Only he could have done this to me. It was probably his idea to get me to go back to my former friends as soon as possible, or to get me to listen to him again, or whatever! - I jumped up from the couch in the Room of Requirement, unable to contain all the things that had been building up over the past few months. - I'd believed him, Fleur. I honoured him, he was a wise mentor to me. And all this year, I keep being amazed at how blind I was. - I walked from side to side, barely paying attention to the French woman looking at me, a look full of regret. - If it hadn't been for Dobby, the Headmaster would still have total control over me.

Fleur seemed to have made up her mind. Her features smoothed, and she rose to her feet and came slowly toward me. She hesitated for a second before reaching out her arms and hugging me gently, making me freeze, unable to move. The closeness of another person was so unexpected that I didn't know what to do. And the fact that it was a girl I had strange feelings for that I couldn't yet explain to myself made my hesitation all the more noticeable.

When Fleur decided she wasn't getting any reaction and began to berate herself for her haste, I snapped out of my stupor and returned the embrace, pulling the Frenchwoman gently against me. Despite the slight age difference, I was a little taller, so I pressed my nose against her temple and breathed in the wonderful scent of her hair.

For a few minutes we just stood there, embraced in the middle of the Room of Requirement, neither of us wanting to break the magic of this amazing moment. All thoughts of being treated unfairly by English wizards, whose opinions change faster than the direction of a weather vane in a hurricane, were blotted out of my head by the scent of fresh meadow flowers coming from the Frenchwoman.

- Harry," Fleur was the first to break the silence, but made no attempt to break contact. I could feel her warm breath on my neck. - It's early April, it's only a short time away. I'm with you.

- You're right. And thank you. The school year is coming to an end, I have one last test to pass, and I can get out of Hogwarts. If you weren't in your final year, I'd be seriously considering transferring to Beauxbaton. - It was only after I finished speaking that I realised exactly what I had said, and I immediately blushed. It was a good thing Fleur's face wasn't visible at that moment. I tried to quickly change the subject: "Though Dumbledore would probably think of something else to keep me here.

- Don't think about Dumbledore," Fleur whispered to me. I thought she was smiling. She pulled back and looked into my eyes, and I was surprised to note that her face was the same shade of crimson that was probably adorning me right now. - Let's talk about something else. Something that has nothing to do with dark wizards, brash old men manipulating people, and all sorts of tournaments where you can die at any moment. - She took my hand and led me back to the couch, sitting down next to me.

I could barely hear what she was saying, as I was in a real panic. Fleur was holding my hand, sitting so close that her leg was pressing against mine, and the slight smile on her lips said she was enjoying it. The smell of her hair still surrounded me and a slight blush appeared on her cheeks, making her, if that was even possible, even more beautiful. She was saying something, but I couldn't make out the words, just admiring this girl who had come into my life when I didn't expect anything good.

Fleur was silent, apparently expecting me to say something, but I was sure that if I opened my mouth now, not a single intelligible word would come out. So I just smiled openly for the first time in months, thinking that I guess I knew what that feeling was called now.

***

It was hard to come back to reality. I could hear voices, but I couldn't understand the words. I tried to move, but my body wouldn't listen. I tried to remember where I was, but the thoughts inside my skull behaved like tiny fish - you reach out your hand to one of them, and it immediately bounces away. Vivid images were replaced by faded memories, but I couldn't concentrate on them. All I could manage was to keep myself in some semblance of consciousness without falling into the final blackness.

I don't know how long I spent in this state. At some point, as I tried to concentrate once again, I suddenly saw the face of a girl with blond hair and blue eyes. Her face was very close to mine. She was biting her lower lip and looking into my eyes, and there was a slight blush on her cheeks. Following the image, the scent of fresh meadow flowers filled me. The kind of scent that you can only encounter on a bright, summer day, when nature is basking in the sun and hurrying to share its good mood with you.

The scent triggered some mechanism in my head, and suddenly all the images made sense, as if someone had turned an invisible switch and adjusted the contrast. I still didn't move, but I remembered where I was. The voices beside me grew louder, and now I could make out exactly what they were saying.

- Albus, are you sure you can't use magic? He's not coming round. I don't want to know exactly what you did to him, but if he dies, you'll have to clean it up yourself.

- Don't worry, Nicholas, he's fine. That much magical release at his age couldn't have been without consequences. When I saw him start to come round, I thought that his mental defences would be as weak as possible at that moment, but as a result I only managed to see one memory, after which he blacked out again. That's why I called you.

Now I can see why I dreamt about one of my and Fleur's nights in the Room of Requirement during the tournament. It's Dumbledore sticking his nose where it doesn't belong again. When I remembered what kind of magical outburst they were talking about, I almost smiled - the flight of surprised headmaster is forever going into the collection of fond memories.

- You can't even handle a child without my help," Flamel grumbled, "why is all this happening in my house?

- I told you, I needed a place where no one would look for him and where he couldn't cross paths with anyone he knew. Young Harry has a gift for eloquence, and now he's trying to dissuade my supporters from following the path of light. Besides, he knows too much. For instance, he somehow found out about a delicate request I made to Severus. Only the two of us knew about it. There's no telling what other information is in that head. We need to get what we can out of it.

- Not us, but you. I don't give a damn about the games you're playing with this young man. You know how many of those I've seen in my life? Well, you wouldn't know. You think because you've lived over a hundred years, you're the wisest man in the world. You're wrong, Albus, and more so every year. But let's not start that argument again. What did you call me here for? If you wanted me to help the boy wake up, you won't need it - he's already awake and he's just pretending to be. If you want the potion, I'll get it for you.

When I realised there was no point in pretending, I opened my eyes and tried to look around. My whole body was aching, and every attempt to move required a tremendous effort, so I just wiggled my eyes from side to side. It was clear that I was still in the same room I'd spent the last few days of my life in. The furniture that had been restored after my anger was in its original places. Dumbledore was standing at the front door, looking at me with interest, as if I were some rare animal, and Flamel had gone out, returning a few seconds later with a vial in his hands.

Before I could even open my mouth, Albus swung his hand, casting Silentio on me. The wand I had taken from the Potters' safe obeyed him without question.

- 'No, no, Harry, I've listened to enough insults directed at me, so it would be better for everyone if you kept quiet. - Taking the vial from Flamel's hands, he walked over to me. - I strongly advise you to drink this potion. I don't want to do you any more physical harm. - When he saw that the threat had no effect on me, he sighed. - Well, that's your choice.

It took him a few seconds and a few passes, and now I was bound in a paralysing spell, lying flat and staring at the ceiling, my mouth open just long enough for Dumbledore to bring a vial to it and pour its contents down my throat. Unable to move and unwilling to choke, I swallowed the swamp-coloured liquid and waited in horror for what would happen next.

I didn't know what the potion was for, but nothing was happening, and I decided that either something like this had no effect on me, or it had been prepared incorrectly.

- Albus, I don't know what you did to that boy's head, but I can hear his thoughts without even trying. If he had any shields, you simply destroyed them. That was a very serious offence at all times, and not even all your titles could save your reputation if someone found out about it. As for you, young Harry, in case you didn't know, I have been the best Potions Master in the world for half a millennium. And surely I know best how to prepare this potion and whether or not it can work on you. - Even after several centuries of living, Flamel had never realised that vanity does not make a man beautiful. - If you want to know what this potion was, I'll tell you - it's my own creation. It helps to restore a person's memory after an Obliviate, or, as in your case, to remove blocks from memories.

Before he could finish, I felt a slight tingling in my head, which grew stronger with each passing moment. I didn't notice it at first because of the pain in my whole body, but soon it felt like someone was drilling into my skull from the inside, trying to get out. I couldn't move, I couldn't scream, and all I could do was stare blankly, not even realising what I was seeing.

Soon the pain was gone, and Dumbledore, noticing that my body had relaxed, pointed his wand at me.

- Well, let's try again. Legilimens! - Once again, the old man raped my mind, searching it for answers to his questions. I tried to fight back, thinking of some absolutely insignificant things, but Dumbledore swatted away my attempts like mosquitoes, continuing to move towards his goal. Unfortunately, I had no idea what occlumency was, so all I had to do was bear it, gritting my teeth. Although, I couldn't even grit my teeth.

After stopping the torture, the old man looked first at me and then at Flamel in surprise.

- It didn't work! I'm surprised. I don't know who put that block in, but it looks like we're going to need something bigger, Nicholas.

- Are you sure? The boy's barely alive as it is.

- Don't worry about him. Young Harry's a lot tougher than he looks. In any case, I feel we're close to a solution. By removing the block, I should be able to figure out exactly who took over this body.

- All right, I'll go get Pernella's potion now. But I'm not responsible for the consequences.

Dumbledore just waved his hand, certain that he was right. When he was alone with me, he stared at my face for a few seconds, not trying to penetrate my mind. It was like he was pretending to care about my condition.

- I'll lift the mute spell. Try to control yourself, Harry. You don't look too good, don't make it worse.

When I felt like I could speak again, I wanted to say what I thought about what was going on, but I managed to hold back. Even if I wasn't the brightest, I'd already realised that it would be useless to try to tell Albus anything.

- How did you find me? - I wheezed, barely audible.

- Through letters, of course. OWLs, actually. You really don't get it, do you?

I didn't dissuade him and told him I was just confirming my thoughts.

- Why don't you just Cruciatus me and get what you want?

- You're thinking like a real Dark Lord, Harry. Though I'll admit, I'm not so sure it was Tom's Horcrux that took over your body. It could be someone far worse. And torture, in my humble opinion, is completely unnecessary. I don't want to hurt you, and I certainly won't stoop to dark magic. I'm only doing what is necessary. As you know very well, albeit unbeknownst to you, I don't have long to live, and I have to do what I can to rid the world of the next threat.

- You old bastard, you've gone off the deep end.

- Good talk, Harry," Dumbledore said without changing his tone, tucking his wand into his pocket. - Pernella's potion is more targeted, so it's guaranteed to help.

Flamel entered the room, handed him another vial and leaned against the doorjamb, watching with interest.

Repeating his previous manipulations, Dumbledore made me swallow the potion without even letting me prepare myself for the imminent pain. This time I already knew that just because there wasn't an immediate effect didn't mean it wouldn't hit me in a few seconds. Some part of me wanted to tell them everything they needed to know, just to make this torment stop, but I held on, knowing that once I knew the truth, the headmaster of the school for young wizards wouldn't stop. Especially when he realised that I knew the future.

This time was different-there was no growing itch. Just in an instant, a bomb went off in my head. Before I could even realise the pain that came, my consciousness instantly faded. There were no images, no memories, just the sensation of falling in pitch blackness, but that too soon faded, leaving me with one last thought - it looked like the old men had overdone it this time.