Song of the Past

By: xxlostdreamerxz

Disclaimer: No, I do not own HP.

Chapter 2: First Impressions

How much can one take before they break?

It was dusk, he reflected, when Madam Hughes had politely knocked on his door before letting a tall, strangely-dressed auburn haired man into the room before she departed. 'An old friend, perhaps?' he thought warily, as he eyed the man cautiously. He did not trust strangers, especially ones that looked dangerous. And he didn't understand really, but the auburn haired man was dangerous. He couldn't explain it, but the moment he met the man's twinkling blue eyes he knew. The man could kill him without a knife, nor any sort of weapon for the matter...

Careful to not draw notice to himself, he shifted slightly in his seat as to provide himself with the best position to bolt away at the merest sight of danger. "Hello," he greeted quietly, his complete attention focused upon the man standing a few feet away.

"Good evening, Tom," the man greeted warmly, as he held out his hand in greeting. "I am pleased to finally meet you," he said kindly, as his electric blue eyes twinkled with delight. "I am Professor Albus Dumbledore."

Tom hesitated for a moment before taking the older man's hand and releasing it quickly. "It's a pleasure, Professor," he said quietly, as he stared down at his feet.

Dumbledore brow furled at the boy's submissive behavior.

"To make a long story short, m' boy," he said softly, after an awkward moment of silence. "I am here to offer you a scholarship to a prestigious boarding school in Scotland."

Tom's eyes widened, "A scholarship?" he repeated skeptically.

“Yes, a scholarship,” Dumbledore said reassuringly. “Hogwarts is in fact one of the leading academic institutions in all Europe. We have an acclaimed set of staff members with exceptional credentials, one of the largest libraries, and glorious facilities. And the best part, as far as I’m concerned, is how our institution is an industrious jumble of beauty and history mixed in one.”

The boy bit his lip as an uncomfortable glint entered his eyes. “That sounds wonderful, Professor,” he said slowly. “But what’s the catch?” Tom leaned back against his chair, swinging his legs in agitation. “I’m not stupid. I know that I don’t have the most stellar marks at the academy nor am I in possession of any unique talents.” The boy paused as he tried to find his words. “Thus, I don’t know why you’re offering me this.”

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “You’re wrong Tom,” he said gently. “You are special.”

Tom frowned in confusion.

“Have you ever done anything you can’t explain?” the auburn haired professor queried. “Have you ever made the impossible happen when you’re feeling a particularly strong surge of emotion?”

The boy’s eyes darkened briefly. “Perhaps,” he offered.

“Well, that’s your talent,” Dumbledore said, smiling benignly. “You’re a wizard.”

Tom flinched at the word. Freak. Bastard. Monster. His hands tightened on the rail of the chair. “That’s impossible,” he hissed, a tint of hysteria layering his voice. “Magic doesn’t exist.”

It can’t. He’s lying…just as father lied.

Dumbledore’s voice caught in his throat, as the boy loudly projected his denials in his mind. He froze as an image flickered across his mind – darkness, blood, chains and a pair of frightened dark blue eyes. What have they done to you, child? His mind whispered.

The professor cleared his throat, trying to push the words and images from his mind to the best of his abilities. “Magic does exist” he said softly, as he pulled out his wand. “We, wizarding folk, have hidden ourselves from Muggles, non-magical beings, for generations. Think of it as a security

precaution more than anything else. Unless there’s been a leak, you wouldn’t know of our world until now.”

Tom eyed the stick with a peculiar look. “And I take it that’s your magic wand?” he said sarcastically, trying to ignore the fact that his heart was beating as fast as a terrified rabbit’s.

“Yes.”

“Well…show me some magic then.”

Dumbledore smiled, waving his wand in a complex fashion to charm the dull yellow rug under his chair into a dashing shade of sapphire blue with glimmering golden stars. With a pleased glint in his eye, he and noticed the horrified expression on the boy’s face.

It’s real. Father was right. I am a freak.

Monster.

Tom’s heartbeat pounded in his ears as his vision began to blur. Surely I couldn’t have been wrong all these years. Did I deserve all of it? I…The boy flinched when a hand reached out to steady him. He looked up and met the bright, concerned eyes of his fellow freakish professor…

…only to feel dirty and unworthy.

“Tom,” the man said hesitantly, his hand still gently clasping the shaking child’s shoulder. Dumbledore’s heart tightened as he heard his charge’s every thought. He didn’t know why this was happening. He wasn’t even probing the child’s mind. He shouldn’t be able to hear a thing… “There’s nothing wrong with being magical,” he said reassuringly. “Lots of muggleborns, children born to Muggles, are scared of what they don’t understand…and some have even been taught to hate magic.”

The boy stiffened at Dumbledore’s last words.

“But once they actually give the magical world a chance, they start to understand,” Dumbledore continued softly. “They begin to accept that being different is acceptable and accept their birthright.” He knelt down so that he and the boy were at eye level. “Hogwarts teaches not only wand-waving and potions, but it teaches us to love others. It gives us a taste of the magical world and slowly teaches us its ways.”

Tom nodded slowly, his head spinning with questions. Running his hand through his hair in confusion, he closed his eyes tiredly. “Professor,” he said softly. “I need to get my head straight before I decide. Can I…have some time to think things over?”

Dumbledore gave the boy a sad look. “Of course, child. Take as long as you need.” After giving Tom an encouraging squeeze on his shoulder, he stood and proceeded to gather his things. “I’ll be back in a couple of days,” he said, meeting Tom’s eyes. “If you need longer, I’ll just come back some other time.” He smiled lightly.

Tom nodded, not trusting himself to say anything. And one soft ‘pop’ later, Dumbledore was gone.

Freak.

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TBC