"You're so insufferable, I hate you!" Hermione exclaimed, disdain filling her eyes.
"The feeling's mutual, you stupid... Muggle-born." Y/N retorted, Hermione's nose twitching out of frustration.
...
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Y/N's consciousness gradually emerged from the depths of sleep as Dumbledore's voice reached her ears. She blinked, her gaze focusing on the figure of the wise old wizard sitting by Harry's bedside. His words held a weight of profound understanding, and she listened intently.
"Professor Quirrell couldn't bear your touch, Harry, because of your mother's sacrifice for you," Dumbledore's voice resonated with a deep sense of ancient wisdom. "Such an act leaves a powerful mark, a protection of sorts."
Dumbledore turned his attention to Y/N as her sleepy response filled the air. "Ah, Miss Crimson, finally awake?"
"Urf," Y/N mumbled, half-conscious and still tangled in the remnants of sleep.
"Ah yes, 'Urf', a most eloquent awakening," Dumbledore quipped with a chuckle.
Harry's curiosity joined the conversation. "Wait, I don't quite understand, a mark?" he asked, his hand instinctively reaching for his forehead.
Dumbledore corrected him gently. "No, Harry, not a visible mark, but one that resides deep within you. It's not something that can be seen with the eyes, but it's a presence that lingers."
"What is it?" Harry's inquiry held a note of urgency.
"Love, Harry. The power of love," Dumbledore's words were spoken softly yet carried immense significance. His voice seemed to echo with the weight of a fundamental truth.
"Professor?" Y/N's voice was laden with curiosity and a touch of confusion.
Dumbledore met her gaze with his characteristic twinkle in his eyes. "Yes, Y/N?"
"In that room... something strange happened," Y/N began, her words carrying a weight of uncertainty.
Dumbledore's patient demeanor encouraged her to continue, and he inclined his head, prompting her to elaborate. "The flames... they seemed to respond to me. It was as if they were alive, reacting to my presence and even my thoughts," Y/N explained, her words tinged with wonder.
Dumbledore listened attentively, his expression serene as he absorbed her account. Then, he posed a question that hinted at a deeper revelation. "Would you like to know why?"
Y/N nodded, her curiosity piqued. The gravity of the situation became clear as Dumbledore added, "And would you like Harry to hear this as well? It's a matter of great importance and privacy."
"Yes," Y/N responded, acknowledging the significance of what Dumbledore was about to share. Her gaze shifted toward Harry, silently conveying that he should be a part of this revelation.
With Harry's presence acknowledged, Dumbledore continued, his voice measured and thoughtful. "Y/N, have you ever wondered why your parents abruptly moved to America, seemingly for the sake of safety from Voldemort?"
Y/N's brow furrowed in contemplation. "Yes, I've always assumed it was for protection, for all of us," she replied.
Dumbledore's eyes held a depth of insight. "That is certainly one reason. However, there is more to the story."
