Harry potter The Boy Who Remembers

4 June 1992, Hogwarts

"I will admit that such a method did enter my mind, but there were simply no signs of a ritual there, not even a single trace, which would have existed should something of this magnitude occur. Such a ritual would also not continue to protect you now. Sometimes, people tend to forget about the simple things in life. They make convoluted theories about complex subjects, forgetting how something as simple and as pure as love can even ignite the stars themselves. Isn't that right, Mr Potter?"

The Potter scion froze in panic. He was hidden by a curtain and hadn't moved or made a noise. How in the name of Magic did the headmaster know that he was awake? Gently, an old hand grasped his curtain, revealing Albus Dumbledore in all his glory.

The man chuckled at his shocked expression, "Do not be alarmed, my boy. The infirmary simply has charms to alert Madam Pomfrey when a student wakes up. As the headmaster of this illustrious school, I have the privilege to interact with these charms as well."

Harry wouldn't really know it. The mere idea of using any magic, even his Arcane Hearing seemed ill-advised. The young Slytherin could do nothing but groan and sit back on the hospital bed.

The man seemed to take this as permission to continue his conversation, and asked, "So, young Harry, I believe you had quite the encounter with Professor Quirrell. I have to say that thanks to your letter I was able to return to Hogwarts quickly enough to save Mr. Longbottom from a rather dire fate. In normal circumstances, I would have ignored the letter. I thought it might have slipped past my mail wards somehow, but your owl was very insistent that I take it. You have found yourself quite the remarkable companion, Mr Potter."

Wait a minute, Hedwig had bypassed his mail wards? How is that possible? And yet for all the impossibility of it all, Harry smiled slightly, "That she is, headmaster."

A second later, he remembered something that Dumbledore just said and pretended to be shocked, "Wait, that was really the Dark Lord? I thought he was just some impostor or something."

"No, I'm afraid that Lord Voldemort has yet to leave this mortal plane. I have to ask, though, young Harry, that you explain the events that led you to your current condition. This is not the first time you have overwhelmed your magical circuits, and continuing to that trend could end up crippling your magical potential in the long run."

Harry paled and started recounting the events of his encounter with Quirrell, "Well, I was asked to come in for my Defense practical exam. It started normally, with me demonstrating a few spells, but Professor Quirrell tried to curse me, and we duelled. I lost, very badly. He was different. He acted differently, even his eyes were red. I ended up disarmed, bound, and chained to a wall. He had started talking about his mission to turn the magical world into a utopia of understanding and wonder. He asked me to join him. It didn't really come out of the blue, with him trying to get me to accept him as a tutor a few months ago. I refused because I already had an agreement with Professor Flitwick about the duelling club, but he seemed quite vexed when I told him my decision."

Longbottom, who had stayed silent during the entire conversation, choked on his spit. Even the headmaster looked surprised, "And you didn't accept his offer?"

His voice had a tint of steel that wasn't there before. Was this the small taste of the true Albus Dumbledore, the Champion of Light? Was this core of steel what was under the image of an old amiable man?

Harry simply shook his head, "Of course, I didn't. He killed unicorns and drank their blood. Learning from someone capable of committing such horrors was just a bad idea in general."

The Potter scion noticed Dumbledore and Longbottom relax slightly and continued, "Well, as you can expect, he didn't really like my answer. He tried to convince me nicely, then he started to get frustrated. The last thing I remember is him casting a very painful curse at me. I think it was black, but he didn't say any incantations. I felt my magic fight against it, and weaken it slightly, but then when it hit, I felt like my energy was being drained from my body. I was horrible; it was like someone had replaced my blood with pure lava. It burned so much. I think I passed out from the pain."

Of course, Harry was lying about that last part. There was no reason for Dumbledore to know that he survived a killing curse. Well, his cloak allowed him to phase through the killing curse. The man was already obsessed with the Deathly Hallows. Harry didn't need the man to have even more of an interest in him.

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