“Anything to say?” the professor asked.

“Is there ever?” Harry said.

Harry sat rigidly in the same chair, staring blankly into the same flames. They provided no warmth, no solace, no comfort. The professor shifted and spoke.

“Talk to me.”

A single tear rolled down Harry’s pale cheek.

“He’s dead.”

Harry walked into the rooms and sat once again. He and the professor continued to question these meetings, wondering if they had any use or validity at all. He, however, was beginning to like them a bit.

“How are you?” the professor asked.

Harry blinked at the fire.

“She hates me.”

Harry sunk into his chair. Yes, it was now his chair. They had discussed it the other day. It had been a pleasant conversation. Somehow, he knew today would not be as pleasant.

“Tell me about the Dursleys,” the professor said.

He had been right.

“They hurt me.”

Harry looked at the professor’s sad but determined face from his chair. He wondered what had happened even though he was sure he knew.

“I’ve told the headmaster your situation,” the professor said. “He’s said you must return.”

“I know.”

“I will not let you return.”

Harry smiled slightly.

“I know.”

Harry warmed his hands on a cup of tea as he curled up on his chair. A storm raged outside. He hated storms, but he was…safe here.

“Tell me about your godfather,” the professor said, holding his own cup of tea.

“I haven’t talked to him since he went into hiding,” Harry said. “I’ve sent letters.”

“Has he replied?”

“I haven’t talked to him since he went into hiding.”

Harry contemplated the upcoming day, sitting in his chair. He really wasn’t ready for this even if he had managed to survive this far. Granted, he hadn’t been ready for the others either.

“What are you thinking about?” the professor asked.

“Tomorrow.”

Harry once again stared blankly into the fire, wishing it could do something to fix what had happened. His arm burned with pain, but he paid it no mind. He could do nothing but replay all he had witnessed in his mind over and over again.

“There was nothing you could do,” the professor said.

“I know.”

The professor gave a small sigh.

“You’ll be coming to my home this summer.”

“I know.”

But let’s return to the beginning…