Harry Potter and the Dovahkiin

"Ah, I see. It wasn't your fault any more than it was mine, Mr Brown," said Dumbledore at last.

Ben couldn't help but agree more. 'It was definitely your fault too, old man,' he thought.

"And neither Miss Chang nor Miss Fawcett blame you for what happened. Quite the opposite, in fact. They were both rather emphatic about that—and rather grateful for your timely medical assistance," Dumbledore added, eyes gently studying him.

'So he was poking around in their heads while I was getting roasted by Snape', Ben thought. Yes, that's right—he thought that. With his magic resistance gear on, even Dumbledore would have a hard time rummaging through his thoughts without a wand.

"Now, you said this diary was controlling Miss Chang?" Dumbledore asked, gesturing toward the object Ben had placed on his desk.

"Yes, Tom Riddle's diary," Ben said calmly. "But this one's not the real deal. It's just a hat. Transfigured to look like the diary."

"Ah, Miss Edgecombe's hat, if I'm not mistaken?" Dumbledore asked, his interest visibly piqued. "May I ask—what became of the original?"

Ben hesitated a beat. "I'm… not entirely sure. I think I destroyed it."

"Destroyed it?" Dumbledore leaned forward, the sparkle in his eye sharpening ever so slightly. "How?"

"I—I don't know, Headmaster," Ben said, voice deliberately vague. "It happened quickly. One moment, both Tom—er, Marianne—and I were pulling at the diary. Next thing I knew… it turned into this."

He reached into his robes and placed a small handful of golden coins onto the desk.

These weren't galleons. Not even septims. Just chocolate coins, wrapped in golden foil.

Dumbledore regarded them with mild curiosity. He picked one up between thumb and forefinger, turning it slowly under the candlelight.

"Chocolate," he murmured, as if announcing a profound discovery. He gave it a gentle sniff. "Hm. Dark chocolate. Interesting, I do have a certain fondness for sweets, you know."

Ben didn't comment. Mostly because he didn't trust himself not to say something like 'I can tell. Are you sure you don't have diabetes, Headmaster?'

Dumbledore smiled, though his eyes didn't quite match the expression. "You're certain this is what the diary became?"

Ben didn't say anything and just nodded.

"We have to be certain, Ben. Did you destroy it? Truly?" he asked again, this time with a more serious note.

"Well, Headmaster, if Tom's scream was anything to go by… it was most definitely destroyed." This time, he met his eyes.

Dumbledore's gaze softened slightly, and he placed the coin back down with the others, arranging them neatly into a little pyramid.

He didn't press further on the diary. Instead, his voice shifted, becoming quieter. More focused. "And the basilisk?"

Ben paused. Briefly considered saying "it's in a better place", but figured that might raise more eyebrows than it soothed.

"No idea."

"You… don't know?"

"My eyes were closed," he said simply. "I heard it coming at me and dodged, but the attack never came. When I looked again… it was gone."

Dumbledore studied him for a moment longer than was comfortable. But he said nothing.

"Maybe it got scared. Recognised me," Ben added, keeping his voice even. "Perhaps it slithered into the tunnels and off to somewhere deeper. I didn't go chasing it."

"A sensible choice," Dumbledore said slowly, though there was a note in his voice that suggested he didn't buy it at all.

Still, he didn't press. And Ben didn't offer anything else.

"Very well," Dumbledore said at last. "If it returns, I trust you'll let someone know."

"Don't worry, Professor," Ben said. "It won't ever hurt an innocent again."

Dumbledore regarded him for a beat, then gave a slow, quiet hum.

"I imagine you and I may differ on what counts as an 'innocent,'" he said mildly, almost amused. "But for now… that is good enough."

Ben smiled, just a little.

This was fun. He was fairly certain his words hadn't fooled the old man for a second. Maybe his ears still twitched when he lied—who knew?—but it didn't matter.

Dumbledore seemed to have accepted him now. Not trusted, no—not yet—but placed. Like a piece on a board.

And not just any pawn, either. One with the potential to reach the other end and become a queen.

The Headmaster loved his games. Plans layered over plans, like an overly ambitious sandwich. And for that, he had to know how every piece moved.

Maybe he's finally figured out how to move me, Ben thought.

He still wasn't loyal to Dumbledore. Or to any authority figure, really. But he did have soft spots—weaknesses, maybe. And they all wore school robes and asked for healing potions after Quidditch practice.

"When you said you saw the diary in your visions," Dumbledore asked, pulling him out of his reverie, "did you see anything more?"

"Ah, I see all sorts of things, Headmaster. What exactly are you referring to?"

"Something similar to the diary. Cursed, dark… connected to Tom Riddle, perhaps."

Ben paused, then shook his head. "Not really. Nothing comes to mind at the moment."

Now wasn't the right time.

"A shame," Dumbledore murmured, drifting into thought the same way Ben had been a few moments before.

"Will that be all, Headmaster?" Ben asked.

"Ah, yes, you must be eager to see your friends. And I'm sure their parents will want to thank you for saving them as well," Dumbledore said, and Ben nodded, already heading for the door.

"One more thing before you go, Mr Brown," Dumbledore called, his tone shifting. He looked at him with those kind, grandpa eyes that always gave Ben the creeps.

"I suspect there's more. Things you haven't said. Things you won't say. Not yet."

Ben didn't answer.

"You have secrets," Dumbledore continued gently. "That much is clear. But secrets have weight, my boy. Even when you're strong enough to carry them alone."

There was a pause, and Ben wasn't sure if he should say something or just make a quick exit.

"I'm not trying to pry," he added. "But I do want you to know—there will come a time when holding back could cost more than you're willing to pay. And when that time comes… I hope you'll trust me."

Ben looked over at him. Yeah, and you're the last man on earth I'd trust with my secrets, he thought, before saying, "That sounds like something a very wise man would say."

"Thank you. I borrowed it from a tapestry in the Hall of Very Wise Advice," Dumbledore said with a wink. "It's where I go for all my best quotes."

Ben cracked a smile. Just as his fingers brushed the door handle, it creaked open on its own, revealing...

-To be continued...