Harry Potter: The Other Side of the Mirror

Disclaimer:

Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

I own nothing but the original characters I make.

"Dialogue"

'Thoughts'

-Author notes-

Chapter 66: Dumbledore's Suspicion

A summons came to him the next day, while he was having breakfast.

Harry saw the small silver owl appear at the Ravenclaw table, drop a folded parchment before him, and fly off.

He glanced at it with an impassive expression.

This did not come as a surprise after yesterday's encounter with Professor McGonagall.

"Another meeting?" Hermione asked.

"It does seem that way," Harry responded. This silver owl was the usual method of communication the Headmaster used.

He picked up the parchment and unfolded it.

"Mr. Potter,

Please report to my office immediately after your morning classes. We have matters of importance to discuss.

Yours sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore"

Harry stared at the note, his stomach tightening. It may have been expected, but he was still very nervous about it.

'Would he be able to tell?... Will he notice that I remember everything now?'

Harry wished he had the chance to learn some mental defense methods like Occlumency, but the school had no books on that subject.

After all, those methods were heavily regulated by the Ministry of Magic.

And to be fair, Harry doubted that a few weeks of practice would be enough to deflect the mental attacks of a Legilimency Master like Albus Dumbledore, but he could only wish.

'He's obviously suspicious at least,' Harry thought. 'He sent the Professor there to find the intruder house elf and found me instead. It makes sense that he is suspicious.'

He tucked the note into his robes and forced himself to finish his breakfast, though he barely tasted a thing.

<><>

The morning classes dragged on, but for once, he didn't seem to mind. Because he was not looking forward to what was coming next.

He even considered stealing a flying broom and running away from the castle, but he didn't think that would succeed, and it wasn't like he had anywhere to go.

His real family was now dead, and all he had was his "Aunt Bella", who was nothing more than another tool from the Headmaster to keep him under control.

And until the time was right, he needed to pretend that he truly was under his control, because the alternative would be his own end.

When the final bell rang, Harry made his way to the seventh floor. The stone gargoyle stepped aside at the password, and the stairs carried him upward.

The familiar oak door loomed before him. Harry raised his hand to knock.

"Come in, Harry," Dumbledore's voice called from within.

He could immediately tell there was something different about the Headmaster's tone.

It felt...more solemn.

Harry pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The office was exactly as he remembered it, but something was different. The atmosphere was heavier, more oppressive.

Dumbledore sat behind his massive claw-footed desk, his white beard flowing down his chest, his robes a deep crimson that seemed to absorb the light.

Harry almost froze when he saw those robes...as they were the same ones he wore on the day he killed his family.

He did not have time to ponder the implications of Dumbledore choosing those robes for today's meeting, because the man already had his cold blue eyes fixed on him, examining his every move.

It made his skin crawl.

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore said, his voice warm but with a sharp edge beneath it. "Please, sit."

Harry sat, his hands clasped in his lap. He did not meet Dumbledore's eyes.

"I trust you are wondering why I called you here so suddenly,"

Dumbledore said, his voice smooth as honey.

"I assumed it was about the kitchens, sir," Harry said carefully. "Professor McGonagall found me there yesterday."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Indeed. She informed me of your... excursion. She said you were hungry and could not wait until dinner."

Harry nodded, keeping his face neutral. "Yes, sir. I overheard some older students talking about how to get in. I thought it would be harmless."

"You seem... uncomfortable, Harry, "Dumbledore reached into a small bowl on his desk and pulled out a lemon drop. "Would you like one, Harry? They always help you calm down."

Harry's heart raced. 'The lemon drops...he is trying that again, but I won't fall for it. If I eat those things, who knows what they'll do to me.'

"Thank you, sir," Harry said, taking the candy. "I'll eat it later. I don't want to spoil my lunch."

Dumbledore's eyes flickered, just for a moment, with something cold and calculating. His smile did not waver, but Harry caught it. The mask slipping, just for a second.

"Of course, my boy," Dumbledore said, his voice still warm. "Whenever you wish."

He folded his hands on the desk, his gaze never leaving Harry's face.

"Harry, I must confess that the incident in the kitchens is not the only reason I called you here today. I have been hearing some... concerning reports about your recent behaviour."

Harry's stomach tightened. "What kind of reports, sir?"

"I am told that you have been spending a great deal of time alone, instead of studying with Miss Granger, as we recommend you," Dumbledore said, his voice soft but probing. "It seems like you have been wandering the castle corridors at odd hours. Avoiding your... guide with the use of flimsy excuses."

'Hermione...' He realized that she must have said something to him.

Harry forced himself to stay calm. "I've just been trying to adjust to my new house, sir. It takes time. And spending time alone helps me relax."

Dumbledore's eyes bore into him. "Is that all?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you haven't been seeing anyone you weren't supposed to?"

"No, sir."

Dumbledore was silent for a long moment. And then Harry felt it...a pressure in his mind, like a cold hand pressing against the inside of his skull. It was subtle, almost gentle, but unmistakable.

'Legilimency,' Harry realised. 'He's trying to read my mind.'

He didn't know how to use Occlumency, but looked down at his hands and tried to imagine a thick and impenetrable wall that would block Dumbledore's probing.

He also tried to think of mundane things, like the taste of breakfast, the feel of the chair beneath him, the sound of the ticking clock.

The pressure persisted, but it did not break through.

Dumbledore's expression did not change, but something flickered in his eyes...a flash of irritation, quickly suppressed.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, his voice still gentle, "I hope you understand that your cooperation is essential. Your old friends...Mister Malfoy and Mister Crabbe were allowed to remain at Hogwarts under my leniency, despite their mistakes. Their future here is reliant on your continued... improvement."

Harry's blood ran cold. 'He's threatening them. He's using them as leverage.'

"Sir..." Harry said, his voice steady. "If you are referring to Malfoy and Crabbe, I have already cut ties with them, just as you advised. They were a bad influence on me. But I don't want anyone to be punished because of me...I will try harder to focus on my studies and nothing more."

A thin, cold smile that did not reach his eyes formed on his face. "I am glad to hear that, Harry. I truly am. I only want what is best for you."

"Yes, sir. I understand."

Dumbledore studied him for another long moment, the pressure in Harry's mind still present, still probing. But he kept his focus...he kept trying to keep his thoughts under control, hoping that it would be enough to deter the intrusion.

"I am glad we had this talk, Harry," Dumbledore said finally, leaning back in his chair. "You may go. I trust you will continue to make good choices. And make sure to eat your candy after lunch."

Harry rose from his chair, his legs feeling unsteady. "Thank you, sir."

He walked to the door, his hand on the handle.

"Oh, and Harry?"

Harry froze.

"Try to avoid wandering around the castle too much," Dumbledore said, his voice light but carrying an edge. "I would hate for you to get in trouble again."

Harry did not turn around. "I understand, sir."

He walked out of the office and down the spiral staircase, his heart pounding in his chest.

It was a good thing there were no more classes in the afternoon.

The walk back to the common room passed in a blur.

Harry moved through the corridors on autopilot, his mind still churning from the meeting.

Dumbledore had been suspicious. He had probed his mind and threatened Draco and Crabbe.

'He suspects something,' Harry thought.

The worst part was not knowing if he had passed whatever test the Headmaster had given him...this was not the kind of test he could afford to fail.

The mere thought of Dumbledore resorting to violence again sent a chill down his spine. If Dumbledore knew, he would act. He would try to erase Harry's memories again, and this time there would be no diary to save him.

There was no telling what he would do to his friends either.

It was obvious that the Headmaster wanted something from him, which is why he went through such efforts to keep him under control.

Because Harry had already seen what Dumbledore does with those he doesnt need.

'I must be more careful,' Harry thought. 'I need to be smarter.'

<><>

He reached the Ravenclaw common room and pushed open the door.

The common room was quiet and warm, the fire crackling in the hearth.

A few students were scattered around, reading or studying. And in the corner, hunched over a book, sat Hermione.

Harry felt a surge of anger. She had reported him to McGonagall. She had told Dumbledore about his wandering. She was the main reason he had been summoned.

And there she was, peacefully reading...unaware of the Hell she had put him through.

He wanted to grab her and yell at her. He wanted her to suffer some consequences for her actions.

But he stopped himself. He knew she had no choice in this matter. She was a product of the system, conditioned to obey, to report, to comply.

She was as much a victim of the Headmaster and this twisted world as he was.

And as he watched her closely, he noticed something. She was distracted, her eyes unfocused, her quill still in her hand. She was looking at something in her lap... it was a photograph.

Harry's anger softened. He remembered that photograph. It was the one with the old couple...her parents. The family she had lost.

Just like Harry, Hermione had also been deprived of everything.

No...her case was probably even worse.

He walked over to her, his footsteps soft on the stone floor. "Hermione?"

She looked up, her eyes guarded. She quickly tucked the photograph away, her mask snapping back into place.

"Potter...are you ready to study?"

Harry sat down across from her. "Yes. I supose I am ready."

She pulled out her Charms textbook, her movements brisk and efficient. Harry did the same, opening his book to the marked page.

They sat in silence for a while, the only sounds the crackling fire and the turning of pages.

But Harry's mind was elsewhere.

Dumbledore had made it clear that his friends were in danger and he needed to warn them.

Unfortunately, he still had no safe place to meet with them.

'I need to find the Sanctum of the Brave,' he thought. 'I need to find a place where Dumbledore cannot reach us, because one day...it may become our only hope to escape his grasp.'

He glanced at Hermione, who was now fully absorbed in her reading, and thought if there could be something he could do for her.

"Harry?"

He blinked, pulled from his thoughts. "Yes?"

Hermione was looking at him, her expression unreadable. "You were staring into space again. You need to focus."

Harry nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Right. Focus."

He turned back to his book, but his mind was already racing ahead, planning his next move.

A.N: - Remember to comment, vote, and/or leave a review if you have the time. Those things help me a lot and I would really appreciate it.

You can support me on P@treon if you like and get 10 advanced chapters. You can also find character images to view for free in Collections/Harry Potter: Mirror Images

-.com/Kriogenix

For donations and commissions, go to .com/kriogenix