"While I do enjoy a little walk at night, I think we could do with a little break." Dumbledore said, interrupting his ruminations. Harry lifted his head, looking at his headmaster for the first time since they'd left the house. His bearings held a sombre note to them as he appeared to think about something far away, contradicting his tone as he sat down on a bench, right under a lamppost. Still filled with apprehension, Harry sat down next to Dumbledore, only to find himself face-to-face with a popsicle.
"Ice pop? I find them to be a delightful remedy to the heat in this season. And I finally managed to convince the castle's elves to learn the recipe." Dumbledore's musing expression had disappeared behind his usual mirthful demeanour as he took out another popsicle from pockets too small to be normal.
"Eeer ... Yes, thank you, Sir." Harry said, a bit unsettled by the sudden offer.
As they began to eat, Harry felt some of his nervousness fade away. Yes, he was with Albus Dumbledore out on some errand, maybe even to help for the war, but he was also with his headmaster. The whimsical headmaster that helped him, protected him and comforted him as best he could through the years and their pitfalls. The man had dedicated his life to fighting injustice and helping children grow.
"I know I disappointed you, Harry. That I let you down more than once since we first met. And even more so during the last year. And it pained me greatly each time I failed to help you and each time I had to lie and hide things from you." Dumbledore said with the same sad expression he had earlier. "Fortunately for both of us, our circumstances have changed and now, those times come to an end."
"Does that mean you'll finally tell me about what's going on? About the war and Voldemort?" Harry asked, his excitement leaking into his voice.
"In part. Many years ago, you asked me why Voldemort had gone after your parents that fateful night. Why he came back to haunt us all, and you more than others." As soon as the words left Dumbledore's lips, the air seemed to turn as cold as the ice in his hand. Harry shivered as he clenched his fist hard. "It is time that you learned some things. Knowledge that would have disastrous consequences should it fall into the wrong hands. That is the reason why I avoided you. It pained me greatly to push you away like that and to leave you in the dark, but the risk was too great."
"The risk? I don't have the habit of chatting with death eaters over tea, sir. And neither Ron nor Hermione would let it slip." Harry said, slightly raising his voice in incredulity.
"Far be it from me to doubt your or your friends' ability to keep a secret. I was afraid that you would not have a choice in the matter." Dumbledore stayed calm in his answer and turned to face his student, leaving his ice cream forgotten in his hand. "There is ... a connection between you and Lord Voldemort. One I am unable to sever and of which I only have suppositions about its origins. You may remember dreams you had, flashes of emotions, of thoughts not your own these last few years. I suspect it is why you also share some gifts Tom also possessed."
He was connected to Voldemort? That's why he'd had those dreams of what he was doing years ago and why he was able to talk to snakes? That was ... alarming. Especially since he now had secrets he had to keep from Voldemort at any cost. "So that's why ... But how? And why me? Can he see what I do?" Harry asked. While the vivid nightmares of the last few years had completely disappeared, he still had bad dreams from time to time. Most of them he could not remember, and the rest were just vague ideas of places or feelings.
But it's not like he had them all the time. They only came back during the holidays.
...When he spent a lot of time on Earth.
Oh.
"I ... I feared that Voldemort would have been able to peek into your mind, searching for every little bit of knowledge that could have helped him. Or worse, pierce through it to get what he wanted from me, hurting you in the process. That is why I had to keep my distance from you." Dumbledore said in a mournful voice. His expression was grave and he seemed subdued for a moment.
"However, this past year, you have shown great restraint and serenity in the face of attacks from a vilifying press, a hostile ministry and a student body that turned its back on you. While my hands were tied and I was unable to protect you as I would have liked, you proved that the connection was too weak for Voldemort to exploit it and that you were strong enough to resist him. Unless you had other dreams you forgot to tell me about?" He added, tilting his head to the side and peering at Harry from above his glasses.
"No, nothing like that. I think it's because I found ... a way to have some sort of peace. And you don't have to apologize for Fudge's vendetta. You were also targeted and I've grown used to everyone thinking I'm a liar up to no good. It doesn't bother me anymore." Harry said. And it was true. Mostly. Although it had eaten him up for a while, the time he spent with his friends working for something that mattered helped him realise that there were bigger issues than school popularity. It still stung, but it didn't bother him as much as before. "But I still don't understand. Why me? Why not try to get to you directly?"