Remember, Harry, I will not tell you again. Dumbledore is not a simple man, a mere gaze will be enough for him to read you. Do not meet his eyes, and do not take interest. If possible, find a book to read. If not, I can not provide one. I cannot risk being discovered by the old man, for it would surely mean my removal from your mind. Do you understand, Harry?

“I do.” He said, but not to him.

“If you behave, mommy will show you those chocolate frogs Mr.Dumbledore keeps with him, okay?”

“Okay.” Harry said. Magnus left his mind. It was eerie, how empty he felt without him. It was as if a part of him had left, the rational, calm part that he had thought belonged to himself. Harry’s hand fumbled for his scar, unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong. Even walking was harder, his feet becoming clumsy in his teacher’s absence.

It was as if the shadows that were behind him had leaped to life, and a step even a second slower would end his life. But that was stupid, was it? He felt like a child in a dark room without Magnus, and maybe he was. He found himself holding his mother’s hand like a branch above a fall that would be his death.

His mother squeezed his fingers. “It will be okay, Harry, I promise. Mr.Dumbledore is a nice man.”

Harry offered a nod, his other hand not leaving his scar. The stone creaked as they walked, and the gargoyles stared as they passed, their eyes digging into Harry’s back. Harry shivered despite himself, and not because of the cold.

“Dumbledore.” She said, and the gargoyle stepped aside. Harry flinched as he saw the stony thing, twisted in a gruesome grin that almost screamed death. It followed orders, which did not help Harry’s imagination in the least. They were bound to the castle, to serve, but what if they were not? Those eyes were not human, but not animal either. They were intelligent, those stony eyes.

As he walked in Harry could not help gasping. He knew what it looked like, Magnus had described it, but it was shocking nonetheless. The headmaster’s office was unlike anything he had ever seen. Silver trinkets lined a table, making music Harry had never heard. A small cage kept a bird, glowing with fire that only a phoenix could have. Warm and bright, like the sun itself. Beyond the desk several paintings loomed over Harry on the walls, the eyes of past wizards staring down at him with unmistakable interest.

But it was Dumbledore’s gaze that drew his interest, those twinkling eyes that almost seemed to read his mind. Harry jerked his gaze away, focusing on the many silver trinkets on the desk.

“Hello Albus, it’s been a while.” Lily said, finding herself a seat.

“Indeed. A full year since our last meeting, if my mind is not slipping. What brings you here?” Dumbledore asked. Harry couldn’t help looking up, His voice was bright, almost like the voice of a young man, and gentle as the autumn breeze. He looked old with his silvery hair, but his voice was anything but old.

“Albus, meet my son, little Harry.” Lily said, wrapping her arm around Harry’s shoulder.

“Hi.” Harry said, his eyes rising. He met his gaze, he couldn’t resist. Those twinkling blue eyes seemed so caring, as if they could read what was wrong with a person with a glance and fix it without a second look. These were rare eyes, found maybe once or twice in a person’s life. Always shining with the serene care that would give hope to a man half dead.

Dumbledore looked at him, and a small smile spread over his face. “Hello there, Harry. Would you like some sweets?” He pulled out a chocolate frog from his desk.

Harry’s eyes lit up, and he snatched it up and began eating, earning a frown from Lily. “Manners, Harry.” She chided.

Dumbledore chuckled. “He is just a child, Lily, no need.” His eyes rested on Harry’s head. “Now, don’t eat it all. There is a card in there.”

Harry made what he thought sounded like a squeal of delight as he picked it out of his teeth, fingering the text. His eyes swung to the card, and then Dumbledore. “Mommy? Is this Mr.Dumbledore?” He asked.

Lily gave an approving smile. “Yes, Harry. Be quiet and read your new card, okay? Mommy will talk to Mr. Dumbledore.”

Harry shifted in his seat as Dumbledore’s eyes rested on his hair. “He can read at two?” He asked, sounding impressed.

Lily’s chest puffed up. “My little Harry learns fast.” She said, her smile widening.

“I see.” Dumbledore said. Harry shifted again. Did he suspect him? If he didn’t, why did it feel like he was being interrogated? Those eyes almost dug into his mind, as if it were flipping through a book. Legilimency at work? If it was, Harry couldn’t tell.

Lily took a breath. “I came because I need your advice, Albus. Harry has shown aptitude for magic and willingness to learn. I returned to my house yesterday to find it flooded. Harry had burned it down by accident, and then summoned half a river to put it out. He is talented, and powerful. If I do not teach him, I am unsure what will happen.”, She said.

Those twinkling eyes narrowed. “Harry, do you remember that day?” His voice was soft now, resonant. As he heard it Harry felt a lull, almost feeling sleepy. He yawned, and an image flashed to mind. Him standing in the middle of a burning house, his yelps and screams as he tried to conjure water. Mag- no! Harry shook himself awake, feeling horrified. He grabbed onto Lily’s robes, hiding his face.

“Harry? What-” Lily’s voice trailed off.

Then the screams came.