Secrets Kept

610 23 0
                                    

As it turned out, the so-called lesson that Dumbledore had for Hadrian was far from the defence lesson they had expected. Heather was rather unimpressed by it. For reasons known only to the Headmaster, he felt that it was necessary for Rian to view certain pensieve memories pertaining to Tom Marvolo Riddle's birth. Honestly, all the memory was doing was evoking a sense of pity for the boy. While he would eventually grow up to be an evil megalomaniac, the life of an orphan was one Heather wouldn't wish on anyone.

Heather wasn't quite sure what the old man was up to, but there was definitely something going on. What Heather didn't know was why he didn't just come out and say it. Was that so difficult to do? How would all these riddles and cryptic hints help them defeat Voldemort? She could tell Dumbledore was trying very hard to point them in the right direction, emphasising certain parts of the memories. It was all very frustrating.

"Headmaster, what exactly are you trying to tell us? Why are you making us watch these?" Hadrian huffed out.

And that was why her brother was the Gryffindor of the family.

"All things will be clear in time, my dears," was all the old man would say in response. The tight-lipped old fogey.

Heather put a calming hand on her brother's shoulder when she saw him scrunch his face in anger. Dumbledore's motives would be revealed soon enough. She wasn't particularly fond of him, but she knew he was a man with a plan. There was probably a reason he was doing things this way.

"Is that all for today, Headmaster?" Heather asked neutrally.

"Yes, I think this is a good place to stop for now. There is more you need to know, but that can wait until next time."

She was beginning to get a headache from the damnable twinkle in the man's eyes.

Then the old man's hands shifted as he went to stroke through his beard absently. Her gaze caught on the blackened tissue of his right hand. Up close, she could see that he wore a ring on the same hand. Strange.

Dumbledore seemed to notice the direction of her stare. "Ahh, just a little mishap. No need to fret, my girl."

She frowned dubiously. "Are you sure, Headmaster? You've had the injury for quite a while. Couldn't Madam Pomfrey do anything to help?"

"Alas, Poppy does not have quite the expertise for a curse as dark as this. Severus has momentarily slowed its progress for now and is researching a cure as we speak. Fear not, for I have the utmost confidence in his abilities."

"How did you get such a curse?" Hadrian asked curiously, swaying forwards as if wanting to bend over for a closer look. Heather shot him a wry look for the blunt question. She couldn't deny that she was just as interested in knowing, however.

Dumbledore sighed, shaking his head. "I was a little careless in handling an old artefact."

"Was it the ring, sir?" Rian asked. It seemed he had noticed it as well.

"Ahh, yes. I should have known you would catch on. Indeed. I was rather excited to find this and couldn't help touching it. It is a rather rare and ancient object, you see, and I had been searching for it for a long time," Dumbledore said, surprisingly free with his words in a way he hadn't been earlier.

It was clear that the gemstone adorning the ring was cracked right through, however, which was quite a pity considering the trouble it had brought the old man. He must really prize it, since he was still wearing it. When she carefully pointed that out, he sighed again, more dolefully this time.

"Yes, unfortunately I had no choice but to destroy it to neutralise its effects."

Something about those words struck her, for some reason, but she couldn't quite say why. She was pondering them even after they were dismissed.

White Heather for ProtectionWhere stories live. Discover now