In Essence Divided

Chapter 9

Dumbledore sighed heavily. He couldn’t help but feeling so old these days. Stretched way too far over his years, and feeling the effects like a parched man savoring the rain. Leaving Molly’s kitchen was hard to do after he had broke the news to her family. But there were other things that he had to attend to now, many miles his mind had to go still.

Harry was seated in front of him, watching him with cold green eyes. Eyes that had looked at him with wonder, awe, anger and sadness. But never cold as they were now. Dumbledore knew that he had missed something significant in Harry’s life when he was thought dead. Something had changed in Harry. Harry had grown up. Harry had weighted the burden of a grown wizard on his shoulders and not broken under the pressure. Yet. Dumbledore had to admit that picking up after a great wizard such as himself had to have seemed a daunting task to the boy seated in front of him. He couldn’t blame Harry for the decisions that he had made, or the problems he was plagued with now. Harry it seemed had passed a threshold while he was gone, an important stepping stone that no one near to him had been close enough to witness.

But Harry, for the most part, had accepted his fate. However complacent he had become in the weeks following Dumbledore’s departure, or how hard he thought he had become, Dumbledore knew that it was a quiet acceptance of his fate. To be a murderer. Or to be a victim. There was no room in his life for grey areas anymore. Harry still had a threshold to cross, and Dumbledore knew that it was not far on the horizon now.

Dumbledore raised his eyes to the two taller boys seated directly behind Harry. They were still taller and lankier than Harry, and he looked at three of the most solemn faces he had ever spied on the identical features. All three of them had been personally attacked, and it just wasn’t fair. Not at all. Dumbledore was not a man to lament these things, but he couldn’t help for a moment to curse what fate had dealt to the three in front of him. There was just nothing at all fair about the situation.

He remembered the first time that each of them had meandered into the great hall, looking scared. All had taken the Great Hall in with such wonder. All his new students did, it seemed. But what marked these boys as different? Harry, with his scar, a prophecy and an arch nemesis before he was even aware of what awaited him in the wizarding world. But, as he moved his eyes to Fred and George, he wondered what it was that marked these boys? Men. What had turned this malice on them? Why were they suddenly involved in this fight? This was nothing to do with them, and Dumbledore couldn’t help but wonder what they had planned. There were no scars on these boys. They had left Hogwarts before the worst had happened there. They had been happy distancing themselves from the war, still doing what they could in their own way. There were no mysterious prophecies made in their behalf, no damage done to them to make them what they were. But a senseless attack. And the chilling reminder given that day that it could happen again in an instant.

There were great things ahead for the Weasley Twins, of that he was sure, but why had he not known of this before? It changed everything. They stared at him with their own cold eyes, and Dumbledore could feel the hostility pouring out of them and into the skull in front of them. It was perverse, to see faces that should have been so happy, faces turned to malice. He felt his own rage storm inside of him like an impotent wave. He wanted to take their place, but this was his place now, to guide them. Nothing more.

He knew he had witnessed a change in the boys after they had left the hospital. There was no doubt exactly why all the Weasley’s had managed to make it into Gryffindor rather than Hufflepuff. There was a deep reserve within all of these boys, and within the twins it positively glowed. There was something that he couldn’t quite place his finger on that had shifted within the boys. He knew that it had been there, lingering under the surface, but it seemed like something had been added, like brimstone under a potion can add a negative flavor to the potion. But what was it? He didn’t think it was negative, but altogether, it wasn’t wholesome.

Sure, he could see what had changed on the outside. Gone were the faces smooth and uncaring. They both wore the same determined look, and both matched the other in hostility. There was an almost acute meanness in the boys now, that had not previously been there. It was revenge. Vengeance. Righteous and angry. He forced himself to look away, wanting to make it go away. He feared for them, and feared for what lay ahead.

That’s what it was! Dumbledore sat back in his chair. These boys did not want to fight for the sake of good will. They wanted to be part of this for revenge. Dumbledore contemplated what his next move would be. This revelation changed many things. Who was he to stand in the way of their right to defend themselves? But to revenge themselves was entirely different. Seeking a fight simply as a recoil was a dangerous game to play, and Dumbledore was not sure if he could stand aside as they sought their honor. Was that what they were meant to do now? And if he did stand aside, what would be the cost? What would Molly and Arthur think of him if he were to let their sons run into this so soon after what had happened before? He shook his head to himself. So many choices to be made, so much weight on his own shoulders.

Knowing these boys as he so intimately did, he knew that when they sunk their teeth into something, they didn’t let it go. Determination was set in them like an unshakable stone, pitted in them, waiting. They had been in his office so often during their time at Hogwarts, that Dumbledore could tell that they were formulating an argument as he sought more time. Their minds were nearly whirling with their thoughts, and he waited for the onslaught.

Harry surprised him and spoke first.

“No.”

Such a simple word. But it hung in the air like the loudest gunshot. It was deafening against the walls of the office and Dumbledore held his breath.

“What the hell do you mean no?”

“Who the bloody hell do you think you are?”

Simultaneously, they started in. He could practically feel their anger washing over the room like a hot wave. Dumbledore knew this approach well, as Harry probably did too. Dumbledore was surprised at the twin’s voices. These were not the voices of boys arguing the pros and cons of well placed dungbombs, these were deeper, passionate voices arguing for their right to go after a wrong that had been done to them, and to people they knew. He lowered his head slightly and wished that things might have gone differently.

“I said no.” Harry’s voice was even, low and quiet, emotionless, but Dumbledore knew that he was close to his boiling point. It started before he even had time to react. He, who had defeated much greater evils than three boys bickering, he was amazed that it had risen so quickly. Never had he felt such raw power and emotion roil through a room as it did.

“What do you mean no!” George’s voice rose over his twin’s who seemed to wane. “We stood aside when our sister was going to lie in the chamber. We were good, we listened and let some amateur kids waltz in and fumble around.”

“We didn’t say a single word when Ron followed you all over in your first year, and trust me mate, we knew he was going with you that night, we saw it on the map!”

“And all during the Tri-Wizard Tournament! We didn’t do a thing when they took Ron away as your prize, and you saw how Cedric came out!” The twins voices picked up where the other’s left off, each getting louder with each argument.

Here it was, Dumbledore thought. The crux of the argument. He said not a word, and let the boys each have their say. It was better to air all this resentment rather than to try to work around it later. These boys were like an old steamer oven. You have to let it decompress or risk burning yourself.

“SHUT UP! Shut up and sod off! I came out on top those times, as much as everyone doubted me and hated me, even Ron for a time. And Ginny, off with those other guys! Even still, I would have done it! And Ron follows me on his own terms, I don’t drag him along like a leashed puppy!” Harry bellowed the words, going through his own head and wondering why on earth he was arguing with these two, whom he had always gotten on famously with in the past. He thought that they were two people he would never hear these things from, never have to face down.

The twins knew what it was he was scared of. Of more people he knew dying, every time the kid turned around someone else close to him died. And they felt bad about bringing up Cedric, but the thought was there nonetheless. It could have been Ron. Dead. Or Ginny. Dead. It was time to stop tiptoeing around the fact. Harry wasn’t coping well on his own. He wasn’t holding it together, wasn’t trying hard enough. People were paying the price now for it. It had to be said, something had to be done.

There was no more argument left in the twins, none at all. They knew that Dumbledore and Harry weren’t going to see with them eye to eye, and they knew that to try and argue was futile.

“What is it that you have to do to end this, Harry? Let us in on it. We have to see this out.” Fred asked in an almost defeated voice. No one in the room was fooled by it. He was tired, but there was that raw energy just under the surface that threatened to rise again.

Dumbledore had his eyes fixed on Harry, he wasn’t sure which of the twins had spoken. He gave Harry a slight nod, signaling that if he felt the need to, he could share what he had with Fred and George. This was not a burden that they could carry on their own anymore. He knew now that even the strongest had to ask for help at some point. This was Harry’s opportunity. Dumbledore hoped that Harry could see objectively as he was right now. Saying no, it could put them all in dire circumstances.

Harry shook his head a final time. There was no way he was going to get any more involved in this fight. There was no need for anyone else to be in the face of danger. He was there enough on his own anyhow. Not another person could fall because he had failed. He couldn’t let them in, there was no way he could look their mother in the eye and tell her he had again failed her. Not again.

“Fine.” Both of the twins replied at once. They rose in unison and headed for the door. Dumbledore rose to stop them, but one of them rose his hand for him to remain seated. They were ending the discussion. Dumbledore knew then that Harry’s rebuttal had been a serious mistake.

“That’s fine. We’ll be off then. Dumbledore, we’ll be in touch. But know this, Harry. We don’t owe you anymore mate. If you want to keep secrets, we can as well.” The tone of voice was icy and made Dumbledore shiver in his thick robes.

“Aye Harry. We have as much a hand in this as you do now.”

And with that, they were out the door of the house and the only thing they heard as they disapparated on the front lawn was a solitary cry from their mother as she rose to watch them leave from the kitchen window.