Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

“Harry, Harry!” Evan called out twice more, but Harry still seemed not to have recovered from the shock.

Then, it was as if he suddenly came to his senses. He ran past Evan, around the corner into Dumbledore’s corridor.

“I’m going to find the headmaster.”

“What’s going on?” Professor Trelawney was a little panicked and asked Evan in confusion, “What happened to him?”

She could sense that Harry’s reaction had something to do with what she had just said, but she didn’t know exactly what was going on.

In fact, she wasn’t even clear on the contents of the prophecy she had made all those years ago.

“Nothing, professor, you wait here, I’ll go over and see,” said Evan, with a sigh.

“But, I thought we were going to see the headmaster together?” said Professor Trelawney hesitantly, “I was going to tell him how I was assaulted in the Room of —”

“I’ll tell him, you stay here,” said Evan again, and then ran forward.

When he came to the end of the corridor, the lone stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance had already jumped aside, revealing the moving spiral staircase behind it.

Harry had obviously gone in, and Evan followed him up.

He stood on the slowly ascending spiral staircase, ears pricked, but didn’t hear any shouting from above.

That meant Harry’s mood was relatively stable now, at least not as angry as before.

That was at least some good news. Honestly, if Evan were Dumbledore, he wouldn’t know how to explain this important matter to Harry — he couldn’t not explain it, but explaining too much wouldn’t work either. It was truly a tricky situation!

Still, Dumbledore was quite skilled at handling these kinds of things.

And at this point, there was no need to keep hiding certain truths!

Thinking of this, Evan began to wonder if he should slow down his steps. What if Dumbledore told the truth — told Harry that Snape had loved his mother, Lily? That would be way too awkward to overhear while standing nearby. …

The staircase was not rising fast. When the door of Dumbledore’s office appeared in front of Evan, he finally saw the situation inside. Dumbledore was standing at the window looking out at the grounds, a long, black traveling cloak in his arms.

Harry was in front of the desk, breathing heavily.

“Sir, is what you just said true? Can I…”

“It’s true, you can go, but you are emotionally unstable right now, Harry!” said Dumbledore calmly, his eyes did not leave the window, his gaze still fixed on the grounds cloaked in night, “I promised that you could come with us tonight. But Azkaban and the monsters imprisoned there are truly terrifying. We may face dangers beyond imagination. It is natural to be afraid — I completely understand. If you feel…”

“I’m not scared! I want to go!” said Harry immediately, “I’m … I’m…”

The words caught in his throat. He was so full of anger, so consumed by hatred toward Snape.

However, he didn’t know how to say it to Dumbledore.

That incident back then — Dumbledore had been there. He couldn’t possibly be unaware of the whole story. And yet he still trusted Snape. He trusted the man who had led to his parents’ deaths. What on earth was Dumbledore thinking? That made Harry hesitate. He wanted to say it — to tell Dumbledore that he was a foolish old man for trusting Snape — but he was afraid that if he lost control of his anger, he might infuriate Dumbledore and be left behind tonight, not allowed to go to Azkaban.

Dumbledore’s blue eyes moved away from the window and looked at Harry more closely.

“You are angry,” he said softly. “Why? What has upset you?”

“I’m not upset,” said Harry, biting his lip.

“No, I can sense your emotions. You were never a good Occlumens, Harry,” said Dumbledore, turning his head to look at Evan who had just entered. His silver eyebrows were tightly knit, forming a slight crease between them.

Noticing the inquiry in Dumbledore’s eyes, Evan hesitated and said, “We just met Professor Trelawney on the way…”

He hadn’t finished when Harry suddenly cut in loudly, “It was Snape! It was Snape all along! He told Voldemort about the prophecy, it was him, he listened outside the door! He and Peter Pettigrew killed my parents!”

His voice was so loud that Fawkes gave a soft squawk behind them.

Looking at Harry who had become a little hysterical, Dumbledore’s expression did not change.

His eyes moved from Evan back to Harry. And whether it was a trick of the light or not, his face seemed to have whitened.

For a long moment, Dumbledore said nothing.

Well, this was the awkward atmosphere Evan had been trying to avoid. He really should have stalled a bit longer downstairs.

From the look on Dumbledore’s face, was he planning to keep this secret for the rest of his life?!

Now that Snape had repented, he could be given another chance, which was in line with Dumbledore’s usual style.

Moreover, Snape was willing to survive and act as a spy for Voldemort, just to protect Harry.

Harry’s current reaction would only make Snape more tormented and more self-blaming…

Evan really wasn’t good at handling things like this. This was so much harder than casting an advanced spell or even defeating an evil god, or Voldemort. And yet, to destroy the Horcrux of Voldemort inside Harry, this was exactly the kind of thing they had to face.

Judging from Dumbledore’s expression, this really was a difficult matter, wasn’t it? The Headmaster had never looked so troubled before.

“He got my parents killed!”

Dumbledore’s silence did not cool Harry’s anger. Instead, it turned into a raging fire, making him even more furious. He was breathing hard as though he was fighting, and glared at Dumbledore. “HE GOT MY PARENTS KILLED! AND YOU LET HIM TEACH HERE AND HE TOLD VOLDEMORT TO GO AFTER MY MUM AND DAD!”

“I know, Harry!” At last, Dumbledore spoke, his voice calm. “Please listen to me.”

He was still standing by the window, unmoving, but something in his presence had changed drastically.

Just moments ago, when Evan had entered, Dumbledore had still seemed like the most powerful white wizard in the world. They were about to set off for Azkaban to face the darkness that dwelled there. But now, he seemed more like an old man — one who was about to explain the past to a grieving boy.

His deeply lined face appeared especially old and helpless.

Evan had felt this same thing once before, last term, when Dumbledore told Harry about the prophecy.

“Professor Snape made a terrible —”

“Don’t tell me it was a mistake, sir, he was listening at the door!” Harry shouted, ignoring everything else. “Last term, you told us it was the person who overheard the prophecy that went and told Voldemort — but you said you didn’t know who it was!”

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