Year Three - Chapter Eighteen

I looked at the Headmaster with a puzzled expression. "I...I can't?"

I would have thought the headmaster would have been happy about it. It wasn't that he was angry, but he simply shook his head. "As much as it pains me, Mister Umbrus, it cannot be done."

I furrowed my brows. There always was a reason for such things, wasn't there? I rubbed my chin. "Is it the ministry that never got around to fixing some old and ancient law of sorts?"

The Headmaster's lips twitched, whether for a smile or a grimace was beyond me to understand. "It is not that, Mister Umbrus. I simply fear that in my selfishness, I have already set up your Christmas plans. I would have notified you as soon as you came around for your regular tea and sherbet lemon, but I miscalculated the swift kindness of the Hufflepuffs."

I looked at the Headmaster, and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled ever so slightly. "Thus, as much as it pains me, you will have to come with me to enjoy a quite tedious Christmas party organized by the Ministry of Magic, to meet with Prime Minister Cornelius Fudge, and receive a small award for having cleared the name of Sirius Black."

I looked down at my hands. "That's...Can't avoid it, can I?"

"Unfortunately not," the Headmaster grimaced. "I would too, if that was the case," he sighed. "If it may console you, I am led to believe that Mister Black and Mister Potter themselves would rather be elsewhere too, but they too will have to be present."

"I guess there's something right in the saying that misery begets company," I muttered, "I'll have to tell my friend then."

"It is quite unfortunate," the Headmaster continued, slightly chagrined. "I had hoped you would spend a happy Christmas, and not a boringly tedious one."

"Well, Headmaster," I made a grimace myself, "What about you?" I asked instead, "If you could spend your Christmas wherever you wanted, where would you go?"

Dumbledore's eyes seemed to cloud, ever so briefly. "Why, Mister Umbrus," he answered with a small smile, "At Hogwarts, of course."

"Not with family?" I replied. "Cousins, uncles, brothers or sisters?"

Dumbledore's expression darkened of the slightest hue, and he shook his head. "I fear that I do not have the right to show myself in front of my family, Mister Umbrus. My pride brought about such a grievous sin, I will never be forgiven."

I half-closed my eyes, and looked sideways. "Is that the reason of your regrets, Headmaster?" I murmured. "You hurt your family with your arrogance? Did something so bad it could never be repaired?"

"I would rather not talk about that, Mister Umbrus," the headmaster said. "It is in the past-"

"But it affects your present, Headmaster," I said softly. "I'm sorry if I sound callous saying this, but have you ever told your family how many years you've spent agonizing over your past actions? Because Headmaster, I may be young, but I can recognize the deepest of regrets in your eyes," I grimaced. "It's torturing you from the inside, this sin of yours, and I think...I think that the wounds that never heal are those from the battles we never fought." I locked eyes with him. "So you still have a battle to fight, maybe the hardest of them all, but if you shy away from it...then what kind of courageous wizard are you, sir?"

"Such words shouldn't come out of the mouth of a student as young as you, Mister Umbrus," Dumbledore muttered. "I should be the batty old wizard with the wise word and the readied saying, but I never got quite around to it," he swallowed, his elderly hands grasping one another as he took a deep breath. "What will it even change?" he whispered. "He always was as headstrong as a mule, that brother of mine."

"Brothers are like that," I acquiesced. "If they're younger, they look up to you, but they never get around to admitting it. You end up treating them poorly because you can't understand why they'd so annoyingly try to stick to your sides, and bother you, but in truth they just love you very much, and want to become as cool as you are until they know better, and find their own path," I chuckled as I said that. "And other times they can't become like you, because they have their own road they need to follow, and so they get bitter and sulky about not being on the same path of their older brothers, but just because the paths are different, it doesn't mean that there is a good path and a bad path. Family, usually, always sticks tog..."

I had tears in my eyes.

"Together."

The Headmaster wasn't at his seat any longer. The old frail-looking hand was surprisingly firm and yet gentle as it rubbed over my head. "You are an incredible young man, Mister Umbrus," he whispered. "And once more, I made a mistake in underestimating the pain in another student's life." His eyes were filled with sorrow. "Hogwarts can be your family, Mister Umbrus, and your home away from home, until a time when you grow up, and become old and wise enough to make your own. And I am so, so sorry, for having forced you to reveal the sorrow within your heart to an old, poor fool like I am."

The Headmaster, ironically enough, believed that my words were spoken from my desires for an imaginary perfect family life. My sorrow was real enough, but not tied to any imagination whatsoever.

It would pass. I was an adult in a child's body, and I had already gotten used to my independence. It was just a momentary moment of loss. It was something that would pass, like everything else in my life, and I'd grow stronger from it.

Still, Megan wasn't happy about it, but she understood and even complimented me on getting an award.

Apparently, the news made the rounds. The surprise kicker came from a near-literal tackling stop from a certain Harry Potter, who managed to find and zero in on me just as I was trying my best to avoid everyone else and head for the kitchens. This was something I failed, of course, and thus by the painting that led into the kitchens, Harry Potter blocked and gathered the courage to ask the burning question in the back of his throat.

"So," Harry said awkwardly, shuffling his feet. "What do you think I should do?"

I looked at Harry Potter. He looked at me as if unsure of what he had just said. "Why are you looking at me for suggestions?" I muttered.

"Well," he bristled, "That's because it's what everyone's saying. Just do as Shade does and you'll be fine Harry. Ask Shade and he'll know, Harry. I can bloody well get a hint," he huffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Are you pouting?" I muttered.

"I'm not pouting," he grumbled. "I'm just," he took a deep breath. "Listen," he said. "I just don't want to ruin this, all right? If I bloody well need to be in a pink dress, then great, I'll find one. I just...Sirius' the best thing that's happened to me since, well, since Hogwarts, and I don't want anything to go wrong if I can avoid it."

I looked at the honest outburst of the boy, and then gave a small nod. "Just be a nice, good kid. Nod when other people nod, laugh when other people laugh, and whatever stuff you hear, don't point it out." I passed a hand around Harry's shoulder, and began to walk away from the kitchens, less a curious House Elf decided to pop out and literally push me inside to be served and revered like a king.

It wouldn't do if Hermione found out about the House Elves.

It would terrify them, and me, and risk a breach of my sanctum's security.

Thus, educating Harry Potter in Politics 101, I once more regretted not having a teleportation device, or more secret passages leading me into my secret sanctum.

There had to be a way to convince Hogwarts to create secret passages, perhaps by poking it with a magic wand and watching the ensuing fireworks?

Had anyone even tried doing that?

My eyes shone with the bright promise of incredibly dangerous experiments.

It was the kind of twinkle that could be mismatched for Dumbledore's own, though his was far more positive in nature.

I don't want to set Hogwarts' on fire...

...I just want to light a secret passage in its heart.