If you want to read ahead by 10 chapters from her you can visit my Patre-on.
{P} {A} {T} {R} {E} {O} {N}
patreon.com/Your_fiction
-----------
Two days ago, however, a ghost found Harry busy in the fourth floor's bathroom to inform him of his availability this weekend. Once the embarrassment passed, curiosity took its place. Their first session had only been some cryptic talks of the prophecy and memories about Voldemort's past, which did provide some context. Harry still didn't see how that was supposed to help him fight against him.
It was with a head full of questions that Harry climbed the stairs to the headmaster's office that Saturday evening. He'd made sure to leave his stone on the ship before coming. Not that he wouldn't share the important parts of the lessons with the crew, but he had promised Dumbledore to be careful with what he learned.
He knocked on the door and entered the office when invited to. Dumbledore sat on the side in a heavily padded purple armchair that clashed with his vibrant yellow robes. In front of him, the pensive had been placed on a low table, sending ripples of silver light to the ceiling.
Memory night it is then.
"Good evening Harry. I must apologise for the sore lack of news this past month. Though I was asked quite rudely to leave my positions in the ministry and the international confederation, I find myself to be quite occupied."
"It's fine sir. I've had a lot to do myself."
Dumbledore tilted his head forward slightly with an amused look on his face. He watched Harry from above his glasses as he sat down across from him.
"Oh? And may I ask what exactly kept you awake these last few weeks? You do seem terribly tired these days."
Harry squirmed uncomfortably on the plush armchair, his eyes looking everywhere but at Dumbledore's.
"I'd rather not say, sir."
That got a chuckle from Dumbledore.
"Then I won't pry. I will however ask you the same courtesy regarding my activities outside the castle."
That request soured Harry's mood quickly.
"Do not be so dispirited. I did not forget my promise of keeping you informed and I will tell you all I know soon. First, however, there are things you must see so you can understand."
No poker for me then.
With his good hand, Dumbledore brought Harry's attention to the pensive. His eyes, however, were drawn to the blackened and ghoulish hand immobile on the armrest. Another reminder of things he would be told "in time". He was beginning to think that this newfound trust and partnership with the headmaster was a two-step-forward, one-step-back kind of deal. But it was still better than last year, at least. And if there is one thing he'd learned by having to keep his crew in check, it was patience, he thought as he leaned forward.
For long minutes afterwards, the silence of the room was only perturbed by the wheezing and rattling of the various devices exposed around the office as the two wizards kept their heads in the engraved stone bowl. When they finally emerged, Harry's agitated expression was a far cry from the reaction expected by the headmaster.
He stood up, pacing around the room while gesturing widely to punctuate every word.
"I got it! That's what I missed the first time! I couldn't get a good look at it in the Gaunt shack, but It was so clear now!"
Dumbledore tried to get up to calm him down, but in his haste put his weight on his bad hand. He fell back down heavily on the armchair with a small cry of pain. Pulled out of his frenzies, Harry hurried to the headmaster's chair and keeled next to him.
"Are you alright sir?"
In this instant, Harry could not see Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, the greatest Wizard of this age and headmaster of the most prestigious school in the world. All he saw was a tired old man trying to find his breath as he fought the pain in his hand.
"I... I will be alright, Harry. Thank you."
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"
"Do not apologise for my mistake, Harry. Everything is fine."
Things sure did not look fine right now though.
Crap, was this how Mme Pomfrey felt every time he ended up in the infirmary? He owed the matron an apology.
After a moment, Dumbledore's breathing returned to normal and his drawn features relaxed. He looked up at Harry.
"Tell me, what did you see in Burkes' memory that shook you so much?"
"It's... The locket sir. The Gaunt's. Slytherin's. I found it in Grimmauld Place last Christmas. The thing was giving me the most painful headache until I locked it up."
Dumbledore's eyes widened and if not for his painful arm, he had no doubt he would be the one pacing around this time. Instead, he grasped Harry's arm with his good hand and looked him straight in the eyes, his own full of concern and urgency.
"Did you touch it directly? Do you still have it?"
Taken aback by his reaction, Harry could only stare at the distress in the man's eyes for a moment. It's not like Dumbledore had the strength to hold him tight enough to hurt him in his current state, but he had never seen the headmaster afraid before now.
"I-No, I moved it with a fire poker. It's in a box, in my trunk."
Without losing a second, Dumbledore dropped his arm and called to the air.
"Filzib!"
An aged house-elf with tufts of white hair coming out of his ears and dressed in a relatively clean pillowcase adorned with the Hogwarts emblem appeared with a soft pop in the room.
-----------
If you want to read ahead by 10 chapters from her you can visit my Patre-on.
{P} {A} {T} {R} {E} {O} {N}
patreon.com/Your_fiction