14. At the Request of Dumbledore

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Dumbledore still wanted to know more about this payment.  What would make someone betray a friend like that?  What amount of money would make this seem right in any way?  He had to find out.  If they had deemed it worthy to kill Harry Potter for small change, well then it goes without saying that it was totally personal.  But if the amount exchanged was substantial, then it stood to reason that the outcome was more serious than anyone had knowledge of.

Dumbledore prided himself on being an intellectual man.  And in spite of his knowledge about Harry being a very private person, came to the conclusion that Harry knew it had been done for money, but not why.  He had no idea what the reasoning behind his attempted murder was, and so he was going to find out.  After leaving the hospital wing, he told Snape that he was going to draft a letter to Robards, requesting to see this Jacob Summers.  He wanted answers.  And he was going to get them.

When the reply came, he would summon Snape to accompany him to the ministry.  Snape nodded his consent, and went back to the dungeons.  Dumbledore entered his office, and saw that Fawkes was sleeping.  He smiled at the bird, and whispered a soft "thank you Fawkes, you saved Harry again.  Your love gave him exactly what he needed. He seems in good spirits".  Fawkes blinked his dark beady eyes at the headmaster and gave a soft whistle, as if to acknowledge the appreciation.  

He sat down at his desk, took out an expensive piece of parchment, and with his most favorite quill, started to draft a letter to Constantine Robards.

Dear Mr Robards,

Thank you for the report on Harry Potter and the injuries that he suffered during his last mission.  I wonder if you have the ability to grant me one more request.  

I would very much like to be given the chance to speak with auror Jacob Summers if that is at all possible.  I am sure that it is, and that if anyone can make the appointment happen, it would be you.

Time, as they say, is of the essence.

Hoping you are well,

Albus Dumbledore

He looked down at what he had written, smiled to himself and sealed the letter.  He rose up from his chair, and gave it to Fawkes to deliver.  "Do not return without a reply Fawkes", he said.  Fawkes took the letter, and flew out of the window.  It was getting dark, they had been in Harry's room for quite a while, and dinner time was approaching.  He left his office to go to the great hall for some sustenance, and to let Snape know that they should be getting a reply before they retired for the night.

When he entered the hall, all the students were already seated and had started eating.  Chatter could be heard, and he was glad that the students had some sort of normal.  When he walked past the 8th years, he turned to look at Draco Malfoy and winked at him.  With a sly smile, he walked up to the staff table, took his seat and dished food onto his plate.  Draco felt weird.  Never, in the history of winks, had anyone, let alone Dumbledore, ever winked at him.  What the bloody hell did that mean?

He asked Pansy and Hermoine what they thought it meant?  Neither of them had an answer, and that maybe he shouldn't think on it so much.  Easy for them to say, when he hadn't winked at them, had he.  "Maybe it's a silent message telling us all that Harry is all right, and that's the only way he could let us know.  Maybe he doesn't want the rest of the school to know anything else just yet", said Ron.  Draco thought about it.  It made sense, but it was still weird.

Expecting their headmaster to stand up and give an update on Harry, they were astounded to see that him and Snape were talking and laughing.  But no update came.  Instead, Fawkes the phoenix flew into the hall just before dinner was finished, and landed on the staff table with a letter attached to his leg.  Dumbledore reached out and removed the letter in a swift stroke.  Thanking Fawkes for his duty, he leaned back in his chair and proceeded to read the reply.  Fawkes took this as his cue to leave, and so he did.

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

It was a pleasure sharing what little knowledge I could with you about the mission that has hurt Hal so very deeply.  I believe that he has covered his physical scars with tattoos, but I am most concerned about the mental scars.  They cut the deepest.

As for your request, you would be right.  I can grant it.  But, and I mean this with the utmost respect, what exactly do you hope to achieve by seeing him.  He has given all the answers he can, and now must wait for his punishment.

You are welcome to call on me, if you still wish to see him, tomorrow morning at 9am, but I fear that you may be wasting your time.  This will be the only time I can arrange with him.

Humble regards

Constantine Robards / Head Auror / Ministry of Magic

Dumbledore smiled, pleased that he was going to get answers at last.  Then with permission from Harry, he would tell him what he knew.  And maybe then, after some much more needed healing, they would be able to put this whole sordid business behind them.  Harry needed to catch up on all his work, as he had already lost valuable time.  Through no fault of his own, mind you.  Always other people pushing him around, and using him.  That ends today.

He turned towards Snape and said that they needed to be at the ministry tomorrow morning at 9am, could he please join him.  Snape agreed, and told Mcgonagall that they would be gone for the most part of the morning.  If Harry asked to see them, to please explain to him that they were away on business, and would be back when they could.  She too gave her agreement.  She wanted to know if she could inform the 8th years about Harry.  Dumbledore said yes, and asked her not to tell them about his visit to the ministry.  The less people who knew about it, the better.

Before leaving the great hall, Professor Mcgonagall stood up, and asked all the 8th years to please meet her in their common room, she had news to share with them.  They rose from their table as one, and started walking with anticipation at what she was going to tell them.


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