Book of Memories

Chapter 24: DUMBLEDORE'S OTHER MISTAKE

In the morning, Harry was awoken by someone prodding him.

"Wake up, you idiot," the person said. She was crying but she was extremely happy.

"Just let me pack my bags," said Harry stupidly.

The person shook him.

"What!" Harry demanded, painfully turning over and rubbing his eyes. He felt around for his glasses and put them on. The person standing over him came into better focus.

There were, in fact, two people. One of them was Hermione and the other was Cho. Both of them had tears in their eyes. Harry felt himself go red and he hid his face under the covers. He would have stayed that way but Cho tore the covers out of his unusually weak grip.

"Been out for two days you know," said Cho, sniffing. "Madam Pomfrey said she heard you talking to Ron last night. Pretty amazing thing you two did that night."

Harry felt angry with himself but there wasn't anything he could do.

"We got the staff but he got the book..." he said.

"Who was it, anyway?" asked Hermione, sniffing.

"Remember Thantanos Brev?" said Harry, gripping Hermione and Cho's attention. "Well... he's back!" he added, dripping with sarcastic happiness.

"What do you mean 'he's back?'" asked Hermione.

"Voldemort's got him under another permanent Imperius and... that means he has the mark of ancients again..."

Hermione and Cho opened their mouths in horror.

"I don't believe it either," said Harry, who was now fully awake. He sat up, ignoring the stabbing pains running up and down his body. It's not every day you think you were exploded into a thousand pieces to find yourself alive and well, just hurting. "I just know Voldemort's going to get revived again... and then... but Thantanos said they only had enough of my blood to give the mark to him..."

Harry, Cho and Hermione exchanged horrified looks. They didn't want to think about what Voldemort would be planning to do with Thantanos...

"He's going to come back even stronger," said Harry forebodingly, "if that's possible... and we don't know what else is in that book."

"How were you able to get the staff out?" asked Hermione.

Harry didn't know whether to feel happy or not. Although, he was the last living ancient...

"Thantanos said an ancient has to be around," he said. "It didn't work that time you and Ron went alone because I wasn't there."

There was a pause while the fact sank into Harry. What else was there to being a descendent of the ancients?

"Hey," said Hermione suddenly, "didn't they live five thousand years ago? And when did the Staff of Cybele disappear?" It sounded like she just thought of something.

"No one really knows," said Cho with a sense of wonderment. "We just know it was several thousand years ago since it was supposedly last seen... Why?" she added, turning to Hermione.

"Well, I mean, when we first retrieved the staff, it was short and it was a badger, not the -- the --" Hermione stammered.

"The Gryffinor lion!" Harry shouted, catching on. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"What is it?" said Cho gripped with suspense.

"Ron!" Harry shouted, painfully turning, the better to yell at him. "Wake up!"

Ron coughed and said, "What," groggily.

"What would you say if I told you that the ancients were the ones who made up the animals for each of Hogwarts' houses?" said Harry. "And Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin used the rumored animals on the staff?"

"I'd say you need to get some more sleep, Harry," Ron replied, flipping himself over like a hamburger.

"He's right!" shrieked Hermione. "The staff was definitely created before Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin's time! Harry, what happened? How did it change?"

"I -- I don't know," Harry said, "I just grabbed it smoke came out of nowhere and started to change it."

"D'you think it changes into the animal of what house they would be sorted into? The last ancient who touched it was probably a descendent of Hufflepuff!" said Hermione, amazed at her genius. "I wonder why they would want to hide it, though? I imagine another ancient down the line would have tried to get it, at least a Gryffindor --"

"Speaking of things we don't know," said Harry, cutting in, "I'd like to know how Ron and I survived."

"We have absolutely no idea," said Hermione, flapping her arms. "Dumbledore talked to the school. Everyone was pretty shook up when they found out the Book of Memories was stolen (even though they have no idea what it does) but were all happy when Dumbledore said the Staff actually exists. He didn't help things by saying Voldemort's" -- and Cho flinched -- "probably going to rise again."

"How did Dumbledore say how he found us? What did we -- er -- look like?" Ron asked Hermione.

"The place was damaged beyond belief! The last chamber is just underneath the dungeons and it left a big hole in the floor just outside the Slytherin common room. You can see the last chamber but can't get in or out unless you feel like falling down several hundred feet. The teachers had to use Summoning Charms to get them out. It's a miracle you two lived and weren't blasted to pieces. No way is a spell going to fix that hole; whatever happened down there turned the stone to dust. They'll have to repair it by elbow grease."

Harry's and Ron's eyes widened in shock.

"You could say that!" said Hermione nodding suggestively. "The entire castle shook. I was sure both of you died. Dumbledore came immediately over to me and asked, 'He went, didn't he?' I went to get Cho first and -- and when we -- when we saw the hole and you two just -- just laying there all -- all covered in -- in..." she tried to say, but she couldn't finish it. It was evident from the tears leaking from Hermione's and Cho's eyes what they did and what they were covered in (blood).

"He -- er -- used Clades Ultimus," said Harry, not sure whether he should have said it.

Now it was time for Hermione's and Cho's eyes to widen in shock.

"And you lived?" Cho asked through many, many tears. "Maybe -- you did -- because..."

"I think it was the staff," said Harry hastily, pointing to it. "I held it in front of me and it must have done something. If you think whatever makes the Killing Curse bounce off me is the same thing that stopped Clades Ultimus, you're crazy," he said sharply. "Why didn't Ron die? And besides, the mark of ancients makes everything more powerful. You're not supposed to be able to Apparate or Disapparate inside Hogwarts but with it, you can. Only that staff could have done it."

"That wasn't all," said Ron, cutting in. "Go on, Harry."

He immediately knew that Ron was referring to the Cruciatus Curse and he didn't feel much like mentioning it, especially when he looked at Cho's eyes.

"God, Harry, I couldn't even look," said Ron darkly, it coming back to him again.

Cho and Hermione were looking frantically between Harry and Ron.

Harry closed his eyes and said, "He... casted Cruciatus --"

"Oh, Harry," said Hermione, disgusted. "I remember what you managed to do to Thantanos. That must have been worse than terrible."

"He was... coughing up blood," said Ron darkly. Harry didn't like him telling about it but it made him feel better all the same. "Twitching... screaming so loud my ears hurt. And you two thought that scar could cause a lot of pain..."

Cho didn't need to hear anymore and proceeded to wrap her arms around Harry, crying joyfully at how crazy her hero was. Harry got a cramp in his stomach and he couldn't tell if it was from the stabbing pains or the swelling happiness. He wanted her to let go because it was embarassing but he didn't want her to let go because he liked it. Harry put his arms around her and felt a rush of... joy.

"We got out of it though," said Ron, smiling weakly. "No point in worrying for now, is there?"

All of them silently agreed.

Hermione couldn't help herself anymore; she was so happy to see Harry and Ron alive that she proceeded to hug Ron.

All four of them abruptly separated when Dumbledore stepped in, who immediately changed their mood from happy to sad.

"I see our two adamant rulebreakers are awake?" he said in such a disappointed tone it cleanly wiped the smiles off all of their faces. "Miss Granger, Miss Chang, if I could have a word alone with Mr. Potter? Mr. Weasley, I'm sure your body is well up to standing and if you could please excuse us as well?"

All of them were taken aback by Dumbledore's tone. Once before did Harry hear him sound like that and that was when Ron and him had been seen by Muggles driving a flying car. They were blocked from entering platform nine and three-quarters and didn't think to send an owl...

Ron, who was at least happy to see that his body worked, got gingerly to his feet and walked out quietly with Hermione and Cho. Harry, who watched them leave, wished he could go, too. Dumbledore sat on the end of Harry's bed and Harry didn't like the look in his eyes behind his half-moon spectacles. Dumbledore was giving him a grave look that clearly said, "What were you thinking?" He was not happy. Neither was Harry.

"I pleaded... with you, Harry, several times... to stay out of it," said Dumbledore slowly.

"Professor!" Harry bursted out at once but Dumbledore raised a long finger to silence him.

Dumbledore didn't seem to know one very important thing: that Wormtail knew how to get to the book and that he must have been forced to tell Thantanos when he disappeared. Now that Harry thought about it, it seemed very stupid not to have told Dumbledore this...

But suddenly, Dumbledore's mood changed at the drop of a hat.

"And I'm very glad you didn't heed my warnings," he said, smiling and completely ignoring the look of complete confusion on Harry's face.

"Wh... what?" said Harry, totally lost.

He blinked several times. Dumbledore was still smiling.

"You're still struggling with your past but you're getting on very well, I think. You see, from the very moment you got word of the Book of Memories being under a threat, I knew there was nothing I could do to stop you from trying to prevent it from being taken and believe me, I tried very hard, indeed...

"There is a certain stubbornness that has been passed down from generation to generation on your father's side. Thankfully, it is not without something to keep it in line. As I'm sure you are very much sick of hearing it, you are very much like your father." But what Dumbledore didn't know was that Harry would never be sick of hearing it. "He would have done the exact same thing. I asked you to not bother, but you kept at it. I threatened to expell you but after overhearing our conversation" -- and Harry felt very guilty; he held down the urge to ask about Sirius because he wanted to hear the rest of Dumbledore's speech -- "you still kept at it. I took away your cloak and map and your resourcefulness kicked in.

"You do remember what I told you, do you not?" He waited patiently for Harry's mind to look around for what he was talking about and then suddenly, Harry remembered.

"Remember if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy?" Harry recited, hoping that was what Dumbledore had in mind.

"Exactly," said Dumbledore nodding, apparently very pleased. "You knew that I would not approve, and truth be told I rather didn't want you involved at first, but you saw fit to go about your business, regardless. I did find out that Pettigrew knew how to get past the Book's natural defense and reasoned the day he disappeared that he had been forced to tell... But it was back when you had heard our conversation that I realized there was no point in trying to stop you," he added, grinning broadly.

Harry grinned back weakly, feeling more guilty still. He had to ask something.

"Professor, what would you have done -- what would have happened -- if I didn't do anything?" he asked slowly. Harry half expected Dumbledore to begin shouting but to his relief, Dumbledore did nothing of the sort.

"Ah, that is a good question and to be honest, I simply don't know. I was dearly afraid when I had found out Pettigrew disappeared and came back not remembering he had disappeared. Relief came to me, however, and do you know in what form that relief was?"

Harry had not the slightest idea and he shook his head to let Dumbledore know.

"Relief came to me... in the form of you, Harry," said Dumbledore, smiling wider still.

Harry felt the heat rising in his face as he said blankly, "M-me?"

He became aware of his breath again as his stomach churned, an urge to hold the Order of Merlin plaque slowly coming on. He, Harry was the person Dumbledore relied on?

"Yes, Mr. Potter," said Dumbledore, "you. I hold a great deal of respect for you, moreso than I held for your father, after what yourself and Mr. Weasley did. I held a great deal for James, too, might I add.

"In other matters, the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, and I have had a little chat since that day... and we came to the conclusion that it was best to not think about what Lord Voldemort had planned if he ever got hold of the Staff of Cybele," said Dumbledore, eyes glittering. Harry didn't want to think about it either. "We wondered, for some time, how is it that you three were able to retrieve it when the best wizards and witches of the age have consistently failed. Would you like, first, to say who it was that had stolen the book?"

"Thantanos Quirrel," said Harry slowly but firmly. "Voldemort gave him the mark of ancients again and he was able to just Apparate and Disapparate."

"And how is it that you, Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley were able to retrieve the staff?"

"I don't really know," said Harry.

He was feeling scared and nervous again but he couldn't pinpoint it. There was a rumble in his insides that made him want to stop fighting back the tears. Perhaps it was because there was so much that was uncertain about the ancients and no one really knew what other magic they held? Or perhaps it was because, even with Sirius back (if Dumbledore kept his promise, that is), Harry would still have no one that truly understood him. Did his parents have the answers to everything he wanted to know? They might, he thought miserably, but he would never find out.

"Thantanos said that an ancient has to be there for it to work, and since I'm, well..." said Harry slowly. "Professor, what else is there to... to being an ancient?"

"I'm afraid I cannot answer that and it's not because I don't want to, it's because I simply do not know. I daresay, there are secrets we are going to find out very soon. When I felt the castle shake I had truly felt you would not survive. When I saw you and Mr. Weasley in the hole by the Slytherin common room, though covered in your own blood, both of you were perfectly okay. Your friends Miss Chang and Miss Granger thought the exact opposite. The Staff of Cybele was resting, clutched in your hand and the Phoenix Bracelet had done a very curious thing," said Dumbledore, and expression of great wonderment on his face.

"It had left your wrist," he went on, "and expanded to fit around yourself and Mr. Weasley. I went to pick it up and it immediately shrunk to normal size but that wasn't all that I saw that had caught my eye. Your skin, Harry. Your skin was glowing white," he said, positively beaming at Harry.

Harry gaped at Dumbledore.

"Unless I'm mistaken, the Book of Memories left you with one last memory projection."

Harry suddenly remembered that he did see a flash of white light before he went unconscious. He told Dumbledore this.

"That, I believe, is how Mr. Weasley and yourself survived. But" -- and he sighed deeply -- "Voldemort does have the book now and I believe we will be getting word of his revival sooner than we hope..."

"Professor," Harry began uneasily. There was something he wanted to get on with. "Er -- Sirius..." he said.

"Ah, yes," said Dumbledore, standing up. "How could I forget?"

He picked up the staff and walked over to Sirius.

"I'm not entirely sure how this is supposed to go," he said, his face folded up in a small bit of confusion that was not very reassuring.

It was then that Harry noticed something. The lion's tail wasn't wagging and the crystal wasn't glowing.

"Professor, when I held the staff for the first time, it changed from being four feet long and having Hufflepuff's badger on it, to... and the tail was moving and the crystal was glowing."

Dumbledore turned around to face Harry and held out the staff as if he wanted Harry to take it.

"It's not going to bite, is it?" said Dumbledore. Harry hesitated. "Go on."

Harry slowly put a hand out and grabbed it. Immediately, the lion's head let out a playful growl. The tail began wagging merrily and the crystal started to glow.

"Fascinating!" said Dumbledore.

"Er -- Hermione, Ron, Cho and I think this thing was made before the time of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin."

Dumbledore looked pleasantly surprised at Harry's suggestion. "Old writings say this staff was made around the time of the ancients but it's not known if it was made at the start of their age, at the end or anywhere in between."

"The crystal," said Harry, looking at it. It was no longer scratched as it had been when the staff was a badger. The glow was a distinct, bright white and oddly familiar... "It glows like the mark of ancients... was this was made by the ancients?"

"Interesting thought, Harry, but I am not sure. For now, why don't you try to do what you've been wanting to do for a long, long time now?" said Dumbledore.

Harry didn't understand at first but then Dumbledore pointed somewhere. Harry turned to look at saw that Dumbledore's finger was aimed at Sirius. Harry almost couldn't believe his eyes. He had the staff, he had Sirius and he knew what was possibly.

Harry stood up very apprehensively. He had absolutely no idea how to revive Sirius. There was no spells, there was no soul around to yell at and he felt stupid standing there, carrying an overgrown staff with a wagging tail. Harry gripped the staff as tight as he could in case for some reason it slipped.

To his horror, the lion growled threateningly! Did he hurt it? Strangely enough, the staff seemed to be alive and it made Harry uneasy as he loosened his hand.

Harry walked over to Sirius, living staff in hand. It was very big and therefore hard to handle -- the slightest movement of his hand caused the staff's weight to want to move farther in that direction... or was it the staff doing that? He stood on Sirius' side and then looked over his shoulder at Dumbledore for help.

He said simply, "You want something to happen and you know what it is. Magic requires no funny words or wand-waving, it simply requires concentration."

Harry kept that in mind as he held the Staff of Cybele over Sirius, the crystal just under Sirius' chin. He closed his eyes. Instantly, something happened as Harry felt a tingling feeling rush up his arm. He opened his eyes. The staff started to glitter golden and very soon, the glitter began to leak out of the crystal and onto Sirius. There was a rush of wind, a crack like a whip and something white and big came out of nowhere. It flew inside of Sirius through his open mouth. Harry watched as the glitter all over Sirius' body gathered at the tip of the crystal and disappeared inside of it. When it was all gone, he put the staff at his side.

Sirius' eyes slowly opened. He blinked, looked around, saw Dumbledore, and smiled.

"Ah," said Dumbledore, "it worked!"

All Harry could do was take a deep breath and smile weakly, feeling ready to faint with happiness.

"Albus?" said Sirius groggily. "Harry!" He tried to sit up but Dumbledore stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Lie down, Sirius," said Dumbledore. "You have been out for, what is it now, almost seven months?" He smiled pleasantly. Harry didn't know what to do; he was just happy to see Sirius alive. "I clearly remember you screaming 'protect Harry' to me before you left us. Ironically, it was he who has protected us."

Dumbledore pried the Staff of Cybele out of Harry's fingers with great strength for a wizard so old. The tail stopped wagging and the crystal stopped glowing. He then held it up to Sirius who took one look at the staff and stared at Harry.

"Is - is that the - the," he tried to say.

"The Staff of Cybele," said Dumbledore, "and we have your godson here to thank..."

Dumbledore then explained everything that happened since Sirius had last been awake, everything from the threat of the Book of Memories being stolen to it actually happening and how Harry and Ron managed to retrieve it and prevent it from being taken. Harry explained everything that he, Ron and Hermione had done since finding out about Sirius' state. Ron's dream in Divination about Sirius, the puffskein escapades, the basilisk, seeing the Dursleys, the dementor incident... Cho... but he purposely didn't mention the dream about Sirius and the one about his parents falling out of the staff. What would they have to say to that?

When the story was finished, Sirius looked at Harry like he was a new person and then his mouth opened wide, full of pride, before morphing into a smile.

"I knew it!" he said, his eyes, Harry was happy to see, alive and energetic. "And it turned into the Gryffindor lion as soon as you touched it, right?"

"Yeah," said Harry uneasily, "but why did it take... me to get it?"

"No one could ever retrieve it from the book because what binds it is ancient magic," Sirius replied still smiling but he quickly stopped because Harry gave him an even more confused look. "Albus and I could try our entire lives and the book would never give it up. An ancient has to be in the book's presence and they have to want the staff to come.

"This staff, Harry, Albus, is very, very powerful and no one -- not one, except them -- can use the staff or it will just kill them. That is how powerful ancient magic is," Sirius added, noting the shock on Harry's face. "The staff becomes alive when you hold it," he said sharply, "I know it does and it doesn't do anything when anyone else holds it. That means, of course, that no one -- not one, except you -- can use it," he concluded, facing Harry.

Sirius was glowing. Harry was horribly confused and didn't know what to think. He, Harry, use a staff taller than he was? It sounded absurd. Sirius turned to Dumbledore.

"I think, Harry, that this staff belongs to you," said Dumbledore, holding the staff up to Harry, his eyes sparkling. Harry stared.

"Y-you're going... to let me keep it?" Harry asked, feeling another round of shock coming on.

"I think it's grown quite fond of you, has it not?"

Harry took it. Standing it on it's bottom, the staff was much taller than he was. He still thought it was strange that the staff was alive, the tail wagging, the crystal glowing, occasionally letting out a pleasant, soft roar.

"How do you know all of this?" Harry asked slowly.

"Ah, you better sit down for this one," Sirius warned. And so Harry sat, putting the staff behind himself. "Your mom and dad were very interested in ancient magic. It think it's possible they dabbled in a little since they were able to actually use the artifacts. Lily's -- I see you finally have it -- Phoenix Bracelet was another artifact from the ancients. It will just not work for anyone else. I'm pretty sure it didn't work for her, it couldn't have. Your dad was a descendent of Gryffindor, not your mom. But I don't know what they did because they kept it all very secret."

"I see," said Harry tonelessly. "So I'm only special because they experimented on me..." At least it looks like the experiment went smoothly, Harry thought.

"I highly doubt that, Harry," said Sirius reassuringly. "Don't forget that you showed the mark of ancients when you were born. They did a lot of research into both the Staff of Cybele and the Book of Memories. The staff would be able to tell if you were just an experimental ancient or a real ancient. And besides, you revived me and you're still alive," he added, smiling broadly. "That and the bracelet works for you."

After all the time since finding out, Harry still found it hard for the fact that he was a descendent of an order of wizards five thousand years old to sink in. It was like trying to stuff a mandrake into a pot after pulling it out -- it just didn't want to go in. He'd like to have some more answers, as a certain emptiness inside him reminded him, particularly --

"How come when I touch the Book of Memories I see..." said Harry, his voice becoming softer, his eyes wandering aimlessly, "I see... my parents..."

"I would love to answer that one," said Sirius with a great deal of hopelessness Harry was unhappy to hear, "but I simply don't know. I would say there's still a lot about you we don't know yet and our surprises aren't over. Just watch out for yourself, that's the best I can tell you, and if you come across anything such as when you found out that being a Parselmouth is the mark of a Dark wizard, ignore it, Harry," said Sirius sternly, "just ignore it. Voldemort transferred Parseltongue to you and who's say there's not other things we don't know about yet."

"Like -- like what?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"We can't answer that one either," said Dumbledore, feeling displeased that he couldn't. "It is well known that Voldemort practiced Necromancy, Summoning and all manner of destructive, forbidden and ancient magic," he continued in a more serious tone. "A branch that deals with the elements such as lightning clearly showed the day of your Fire Quidditch game. It's only a matter of time before more surfaces but you should not have to fear it. Recent events clearly show that you are not a Dark wizard and have no intention of becoming one. Put this one to rest, Harry, or it's going to haunt you for a long time as it no doubt already is.

"In other matters," Dumbledore went on, "I have a strong suspicion that you have been blaming yourself for Sirius, have you not?"

Harry paused, feeling distinctly hot in the face. He felt embarassed at having to say so in front of Sirius but what was there to it? He tried to rescue Sirius from Azkaban, knowing full well dementors could make him... faint and he fainted.

"Yes," he muttered, avoiding both of their eyes, particularly those of Sirius.

"Do you remember what else I told you?" Dumbledore asked calmly.

Dumbledore told Harry lots of things. The problem was that Harry couldn't remember them all. This must have shown on his face.

"The day you found out about Sirius' condition, I told you... that you had more hardships ahead of you -"

"You also told me to not take the wrong fork in the road but look what happened," he said softly and angrily, looking up.

"Ah," said Dumbledore triumphantly, "but you see it was your stubbornness that led you to find a way to correct that mistake --"

"But it was still a mistake!" Harry bursted out.

"There are mistakes that we can correct," said Dumbledore calmly, "and there are mistakes that we cannot correct. The ones that we can, and that have been with no lasting harm done, should not haunt us."

Harry sat silent. He had nothing to say to that and something told him to not tell about the repeating dream where Sirius shouted at him "You killed me!" because he felt it was settled.

"I have said everything that I wanted to," Dumbledore told Harry. "Is there anything you wish to add?"

"There's two things," said Harry slowly. "The staff," he began, "I think it was... was talking to me. It told me to pick it up and when Thantanos -- er -- casted the Cruciatus Curse on me," he said still more slowly, to which Sirius winced very noticeably, "it... kept telling me to break from it."

Dumbledore looked at Sirius quizzically but Sirius smiled.

"The staff is alive," he told Harry and Dumbledore, "as you have already found out. It knows everything you want to know but the trick is getting it to speak to you. I have no idea how to make it do that."

"It was getting angry with me when I didn't pick it up for about the seventh time."

"Seven times it told you to pick it up?" said Dumbledore, goggling at Harry.

"It speaks to it's owner," said Sirius. "If it told you that you could break from Crucio, well, I needn't say that you should have tried."

"How could I possibly break from that curse under all that -- that pain!" said Harry incredulously.

"We're probably going to find out a lot of things we don't know yet now that you have the Staff of Cybele," said Sirius. "What was the other thing?" Sirius asked, shifting in his bed.

Harry suddenly became very hot and he could tell the nervousness on his face was showing. Sirius was looking Harry straight in the eye and Harry couldn't look back at him and deny his promise to tell anything and everything. He wanted to know, wanted to ask, if there was any truth... to the dream... about his parents... falling out of the Staff of Cybele... just to see, just in case...

He felt himself shaking, trying dearly to not let them see that his bottom lip was trying to quiver. Harry looked at his feet. Sirius must have noticed all of this because he got up and sat next to Harry, who was glad Dumbledore didn't stop Sirius. This wasn't going to be easy.

"I -- er -- one night during Christmas," Harry began slowly, "I had a dream that I was -- that I had this staff in my hand and..." Forgetting all about his feet, Harry suddenly became very interested in his fingers. That dream, it looked so real... "And it... it... brought... them back to life," he said heavily, exhaling all the rest of his breath as he finished.

"Who's them?" asked Dumbledore, knowing perfectly well what the answer was. Harry did nothing more than look up at Dumbledore for a brief second, face full of a terrible sadness and then go back to his fascinating fingers. "You miss them --"

"I never knew them," said Harry in a small voice, "how can I miss them."

His nerves could almost not take any more and there was no fighting back the tear in his eye.

"Dreams can keep us going or they can tear us down," said Dumbledore calmly and knowingly. Harry sniffed. Sirius put an arm around him, lightly gripping his opposite shoulder. "The Staff of Cybele reawakening the dead is nothing but a long-standing myth. Why, if it were true, immortality would be for everyone. It hurts me just as much as it hurts you," Dumbledore added, noting Harry's silence.

"No it doesn't," Harry replied hotly.

"I see," said Dumbledore this time noting Harry's persistance.

There was no sound for a full minute except Harry's sniffing. Sirius gently shook Harry's shoulder. Harry's eye were grazing the floor, half wishing Mrs. Weasley was there to hug him. Or Cho... either would do.

"I will be back," Dumbledore told Sirius, standing up. "I am going to get something. Please don't let him go anywhere."

And he was gone. Harry wasn't going to go anywhere, anyway. Where would he go?

Sirius, on the other hand, looked to be straining to find something to say -- he didn't like to watch Harry sob silently -- but words seemed to utterly fail him. He was glad to see Dumbledore return promptly, now holding something in his hand he didn't recognize. Harry didn't bother to look.

"I think you might find a good need for this," said Dumbledore calmly, handing Harry a handsome, leather-covered book.

Wiping some tears on his sleeve, Harry opened it. It was the photo album Hagrid had given him which he thought he tore up. Someone seemed to have been able to make it look like he had done no such thing... and then he remembered that Dumbledore had fixed it.

"I don't want pictures," said Harry, trying to dispell his tears, looking at the book hungrily, "I want the real thing."

There didn't look to be any way to cheer Harry up. Dumbledore needed to pull a new trick out of his hat.

"You want comfort, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, trying his best to sound displeased but in reality, meaning to get somewhere. "Hold the plaque on your Order of Merlin necklace."

Harry shut the book immediately, placing it aside and looked up.

"What?"

"Go on," Dumbledore insisted. "It could very well have an effect now."

He even went so far as to pick the necklace up from the bedside table and hold it in front of Harry. Harry, hesitating, took it. Dumbledore was now authentically displeased to see that he was right: Harry stopped sobbing at once.

"There, now do you feel better?" asked Dumbledore with an air of superiority as Sirius caught on. "Whenever you are feeling down, Harry, I want you to hold it, tight, so that you never have to feel down again. It would be great if everyone had one, wouldn't it? Wouldn't it be great if everyone did such great things as some of us in this room have?"

Harry stared. He looked at his hand, at the thing inside it and then quickly put it around his neck, not holding it anymore. What had Dumbledore meant?

"You cannot hold on forever. Anyone who wants for so long and does not get, whether they know if they can get or not, is going to start feeling a cavernous emptiness," said Dumbledore wisely. "Unless I'm sadly mistaken, this is what you are going through. The rumors about the Staff of Cybele reawakening the dead are nothing more than myth, legend and folklore. The ancients themselves have tried such a thing and were not successful. There were legends about this, books written on it, entire schools placed down to study it. While the rumors still exist, it has been studied more than you have been and that is saying something. One cannot simply force life again."

"You said I would see them again!" Harry shouted miserably.

"And so you will see them again," affirmed Dumbledore, making Harry feel more miserable. He took a deep breath and continued. "You must put them behind you or it will bother you forever," he said shaking his head in a very serious manner. Harry sighed deeply, slightly slipping back into gloom.

"If it comes as any consolation," Dumbledore went on slightly more cheerfully (but Harry didn't feel like being cheerful just yet), "Cornelius and I have come to the agreement that your abysmal O.W.L. score was a direct result of a lack of time and extreme stress ('extreme' being an understatement), among other things. Therefore, we feel that, in light of your grades each year, it would not hurt to add, say, ten more wizarding levels? Not to mention, of course, that your skill far exceeds that of many of your classmates, don't you think?" he added, grinning broadly.

Sirius shook Harry's shoulder encouragingly, chuckling lightly. Harry couldn't help but break a small smile and give a short, embarassed giggle.