Chapter 651: Dumbledore's Decision
Chapter 651: Dumbledore's Decision
A wave of dizziness washed over him...
The objects in the room distorted and twisted. Harry seemed to see Voldemort smiling at him, which was definitely a hallucination. The next thing he saw was the chandelier and white walls of the Hospital Wing ceiling.
"Harry." Ginny rushed forward, but Ron held her back. "Don't move him."
"Oh, right", Ginny said. "We should notify Madam Pomfrey—"
Madam Pomfrey appeared and conducted a series of complex examinations on Harry. Although she found no issues, she strongly advised him to stay for a while longer. "Your condition is unique. Be careful not to leave any lingering effects", she warned.
Harry instinctively touched his forehead, where his scar burned with a raw, skin-grazing pain.
"Lie back down", Madam Pomfrey ordered, placing her hands on her hips. She then took out a sticky ointment and, despite Harry's grimaces, applied a thick layer to his forehead.
Turning to the others, she firmly said, "You have ten minutes for visiting. The boy needs his rest."
Once she left, Harry looked around. Ginny was holding his hand, Hermione was holding a book (which she had upside down) and smiling at him, and Ron was looking at him with a mix of fear and unease.
Harry immediately thought back to the freckled red-haired boy he met on the train six years ago.
"So, you two are back together?" he asked sharply, referring to Ginny and Ron.
"Um, yeah", Ron stammered, hoping the question would come up later. He glanced at Ginny, then looked to Hermione for help, but no one came to his rescue.
So he stammered, "Well, I— you know— Ginny and I— we've been back together for a while— during the two weeks you were in the hospital—"
Harry turned to Ginny, who spoke in a calm but unsettling tone. "I thought about it seriously. I couldn't really kill Ron, so..." She shrugged.
Harry thought for a moment and decided not to respond to Ginny's comment. He thought for a bit before saying, "I've been in the hospital for two weeks?"
He looked at Ron skeptically, then turned to Ginny and Hermione, trying to see if this was a joke. But from their expressions, Ron was telling the truth. He had really been unconscious for two weeks.
"You were really scary when you were first brought in", Hermione said, still shaken. "Your scar was bleeding like a fresh wound. Ginny was crying and wiping the blood off your face, and Ron was standing there like a troll, frozen in place."
Harry looked at Ginny and Ron, feeling a warm current in his heart.
"Everyone was really worried about you", Ginny said, blushing slightly. She added softly, "Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Hepp stayed in the room all day, not allowing anyone in, not even Madam Pomfrey. We were all terrified, thinking you might..." She glanced at Harry cautiously. "Hermione was so nervous she scratched her own face raw."
Harry gradually pieced together what had happened.
Two weeks ago, Dumbledore and Professor Hepp had called him to Classroom 7 to try to remove the piece of Voldemort's soul inside him. It was the first time in months that Voldemort's main consciousness had been awakened. The newly reborn Riddle was no match for the original. With Professor Hepp's help, Riddle managed to absorb the soul fragments from the Golden Cup and the Pendant Box. He had also tried to absorb the piece inside Harry, attempting to replace the real Voldemort.
Harry had witnessed Voldemort's madness. He would rather destroy his own Horcruxes than surrender.
After that... Harry's expression froze. It had been chaotic. The soul fragment inside him had been affected, and he felt excruciating pain. Voldemort's residual soul seemed to be trying to open a door, or perhaps a hole, in his forehead. Harry had let out a chilling scream, but he wasn't sure if it was his own or Voldemort's residual soul.
“Professor Hepp told us,” Ron said, “he and Dumbledore cast a complex spell involving the soul. None of us understood it, but it was to protect you from Voldemort’s soul fragment—”
“Ron!” Harry couldn’t help but exclaim.
“It’s fine,” Ron seemed to guess his thoughts, “Ginny knows too. With everything that’s happened, it couldn’t be kept a secret anymore. Dumbledore told her himself...”
He glanced at Harry, who seemed a bit at a loss, and continued:
“They said the soul fragment in your body had awakened, and their spell was meant to make it dormant again. It seems to be working; at least your scar isn’t bleeding anymore and is healing gradually...” He rambled on, as if trying to brush it off.
Harry felt a sense of confusion.
So, the plan had indeed failed? His status as a Horcrux hadn’t changed, and worse, the last two Horcruxes had been destroyed, leaving him as the only one, the final Horcrux... His throat tightened, making it hard to breathe. A dark thought crept into his mind: if he died now, everything would be over.
“Oh, right,” Hermione gestured to Ron, pointing at her finger. Ron realized, “Dumbledore told us to remind you not to take off the ring on your hand. I guess it has a powerful protective spell.”
Harry looked down at his left hand, where a rough black gemstone ring was worn. He hadn’t noticed it before.
It was the Resurrection Stone. Harry’s eyes widened; Dumbledore had shown it to him before.
A series of thoughts flashed through his mind, settling on the most logical one: the Resurrection Stone was related to the soul, and Dumbledore must have believed it could protect him in this situation, so he had put it on his hand. But what Harry desired more was another function of the Resurrection Stone, something even stronger than the Mirror of Erised...
His heart raced.
“Time’s up, you three, come out now!” Madam Pomfrey called from the doorway. Hermione, Ginny, and Ron stood up. Ginny kissed Harry’s lips, telling him everything would be okay (Ron sensibly looked away), and then they said their goodbyes and walked towards the door.
Ron lingered, staying behind. Harry realized Ginny and Hermione had intentionally left them alone. Once the others were gone, Ron turned to Harry, looking hesitant.
“I think I owe you an apology, Harry. I know I’ve been—”
“Let it go,” Harry said immediately.
“No, I have to say this!” Ron exclaimed, and Harry looked at him, only to see him stammer.
After a moment, Ron slowly said, “I have some flaws in my character that sometimes lead to certain thoughts... just occasionally, but when I’m feeling really down... I can’t control myself, you know what I mean?”
“I do,” Harry said calmly from his bed, “Sirius once said I’m stubborn and like to make decisions on my own, and once I do, I can’t be swayed... but that’s just who I am, and it’s hard to change. Even if something happens, I might not even realize it.”
He told Ron, “I have a secret for you—I’ve felt the stirrings of an Animagus transformation.”
“You’re kidding!” Ron exclaimed in surprise.
“It’s true. I did feel it, but I wasn’t sure if it was a mistake, so I planned to wait until I was certain before saying anything. But as you know, I ended up in bed for two weeks... If I had reported it in time, Professor Hepp might have delayed the plan.”
Ron was speechless, opening his mouth to comfort Harry, but Harry didn’t feel particularly regretful. He just thought it might serve as a good excuse. Harry said softly:
"I just know that when I’m in danger, you’ll be the first one to step up."
Ron smiled at him, his expression relaxing. "I think the same. Well, I mean, if I’m in danger—like being captured by Voldemort, cough, if the war isn’t over yet—I wouldn’t lose hope, because I know you’d never give up, even if everyone else did. I thought of this while watching cartoons with Valen. It’s pretty strange, isn’t it?"
The door closed, and the footsteps faded away, leaving the hospital room completely quiet.
Harry lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling a sense of contentment and peace after a full meal. The Resurrection Stone ring on his hand no longer seemed as compelling. What he needed most right now was a good night’s sleep. Gradually, he drifted off.
When he woke up, Harry opened his eyes and felt better than ever. The light outside told him it was already dusk. The ward was unlit, and the afternoon sun slanted in, casting a warm glow on his feet while most of his body remained in the shadows.
The room was silent. Harry lazily raised his left hand and stared at the black gemstone ring for a long time. Then, he drew out his other hand from under the blanket and, mimicking Dumbledore, rubbed the surface of the Resurrection Stone.
"That’s not a good idea", a gentle voice said suddenly.
Harry turned his head to see Dumbledore sitting on the adjacent bed, smiling at him. He was mostly sunk into the bed, his knees touching the edge, his body leaning back, supported by his long arms.
As if he were on a swing.
"I’ve sealed off some of the Resurrection Stone’s functions", Dumbledore said, straightening up to face Harry. "You’re not ready for the extremes of joy and sorrow, and I must say, some of the Resurrection Stone’s abilities are too dangerous, possibly the most dangerous of the three Deathly Hallows."
Harry fell silent, obediently lowering his hand, though he couldn’t help feeling disappointed—he had hoped to see his parents today. He didn’t ask if Dumbledore had been affected; the answer was obvious. Instead, he asked, "Do I have to keep wearing it?"
"Oh, no, not necessarily. Once you’re stable, I’ll take it back", Dumbledore smiled. "Would you like a toffee?" He pulled two toffee candies from his pocket.
"Thank you", Harry said softly, taking one and unwrapping it, letting the rich sweetness spread in his mouth. They sat in silence for a moment, with Dumbledore humming a tune.
"Did you know, Harry?" Dumbledore said after a while. "Pomona notified me the moment you woke up, but I thought you might not be in a good mood. You see, we didn’t achieve the expected results..." He looked at Harry with a slight curiosity.
"I... Voldemort didn’t get away, did he?"
"No", Dumbledore said. "He’s been resealed." Harry murmured a response. "This means—" Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, "it’s time to try my method."
"What method?"
"You’ll find out", Dumbledore smiled, offering Harry another candy. "Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans?" Harry blurted out. Dumbledore winked at him, "It’s also the password to the Headmaster’s office."
Harry looked at the old man, puzzled.
"I plan to give you private lessons, Harry. Yes, it’s part of my method", Dumbledore stood up. "How about we start at 8 PM on the first Saturday after you’re discharged? I’ve prepared a lot, and I hope you’ll enjoy it."
He was about to leave but stopped.
"Please forgive me for sharing your secret with Miss Weasley. It might have gone against your wishes, but she was crying so hard, and continuing to hide it would have been harmful to your relationship..."
Dumbledore pushed open the door and left.
Harry stared at the Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Bean in his hand, unsure if this meant a new hope. But regardless, he was genuinely interested in Dumbledore’s lessons.
Before long, a string of bluebell-colored bubbles floated through the hospital room.
(End of Chapter)
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