firecracker ???

2-16

"Lay him here," Dumbledore instructed as he conjured a bed. Lyra did as the headmaster said, carefully, reverently. When she stepped back, her hands hung uselessly by her sides. She couldn't seem to unclench them.

"Tea, Miss Black?" he asked gently.

She shook her head.

Dumbledore poured two cups anyway. The silence stretched long before he spoke again.

"I have spoken with your godfather."

Dumbledore continued, unbothered. "Regulus told me something he never said aloud until recently. That if he died, it would be in penance for the things he once believed, and if he lived, it would be to protect the only person who gave him hope something better could grow from the ashes."

She felt something constrict in her chest.

"He has told you very little, I imagine."

She nodded. "He says it isn't time."

"He is careful," Dumbledore said gently. "And rightly so. The truth he carries is one that could change the way you see many things—not only him, but your family, the world, even yourself."

Elestara's eyes narrowed slightly, unsure. "You think I don't know who I am?"

"I think," said Dumbledore, with a kind but steady look, "that you have spent a long time being precisely who others needed you to be. And only recently have you begun wondering if there might be someone else underneath all of that. Someone your godfather already sees."

He studied her. "You went into the Chamber to watch. But you did not leave untouched."

She didn't speak. Couldn't.

"You held a dying boy and didn't look away. You waited for a girl to open her eyes, and said nothing cruel. You risked yourself without spectacle."

"I didn't do it for him," she said quickly.

"I believe you."

"But I didn't want him to die."

"I believe that too."

She turned away from the bed.

"He smiled at me," she whispered. "Right before he passed out. Like I was something worth remembering."

"Because you are," Dumbledore said.

"He doesn't even know me."

Dumbledore only smiled. "Not yet. But he sees you."

Before she could answer, Harry stirred. His head turned weakly on the pillow.

"Elestara?"

She stepped forward.

"I'm here."

"Ginny?"

"She's fine."

Harry relaxed, then smiled at her—slow, sleepy. "You stayed."

"I did."

"I didn't think you would."

"I know."

Dumbledore rose then. "I've informed your father, Miss Black."

The door opened moments later.

Lucius Malfoy entered, sharp and composed. His gaze swept the room and landed on his daughter.

"Elestara."

She stepped toward him, spine straight, but her limbs felt oddly heavy.

Lucius studied her face for a long moment. Then, he reached out and brushed the hair out of her face, placing a kiss on her forehead.