Chapter 142: 5-1

Ultimately, suspicions regarding Theodore were put on hold until Astoria had recovered. After receiving first aid, Astoria was swiftly transported to St. Mungo's, taking roughly a month to be discharged. During that time, putting aside myself who was in a different House, Draco seemed to have exhausted every effort to catch Theodore, but it all ended in vain. How on earth could a mere student without an Invisibility Cloak disappear so conveniently? It was almost worthy of praise, a true testament to his lone-wolf nature.
And even after Astoria safely returned to school, we were still dragging our feet. Daphne and her unfitting entourage were constantly hovering around Astoria, and Theodore's whereabouts remained entirely unknown no matter how much we searched. I considered taking drastic measures by sneaking out the Marauder's Map, but the timing was terrible as Harry was constantly using it. —To corner Slughorn. Harry had to obtain the sealed memory from Slughorn. It was by no means a task that could be neglected. Dumbledore wouldn't be certain about the Horcruxes without Slughorn's memory. And without that certainty, he wouldn't be able to make an offensive move. That would be a problem.
"What should we do?"
"I'd at least like to know his motive."
I racked my brains along with the blond boy, who was bearing the brunt of the actual harm. Why was Theodore so relentlessly targeting Draco? Was the Augurey instigating it? Why? What reason did the Augurey have to target Malfoy? Was Scorpius an eyesore to her? And to begin with, was Theodore the only perpetrator?
Assuming a Time-Turner was involved, for instance, it should only be able to 'return' to the future, not 'travel' to it. In that case, it was natural to assume that Voldemort's daughter from the future, Delphini, had made contact with Theodore—did that mean the future where Delphini is born was set in stone?
I didn't know. Without arriving at a single truth, our sixth year at Hogwarts was about to welcome spring.
"Could Mr. Nott being sent to Azkaban over the incident at the Department of Mysteries be one of his grudges?"
"Ah... now that you mention it, he was caught along with them. With Crabbe and Goyle."
"I never would have thought Theodore cared that deeply about his father. He's surprisingly sentimental."
I stifled a laugh at the young master who shrugged his shoulders with heavy sarcasm. Perhaps noticing our suspicions, the assassin targeting Draco had quieted down, but the reason behind Dumbledore's frequent absences from the school remained unknown. —It looks like this year, too, will be a year of endless worries.

---

Strolling through Hogwarts after the thaw, I came across a deserted flowerbed. It was the place where I had previously talked with Astoria. Without her here, what a desolate place it was.
"Astoria..."
I stroked the bench, recalling the smile of the flower girl who had completely frozen over—when suddenly.
"Sister, please reconsider... Father would listen to your words. I am—Sister Daphne!"
I hid instinctively. Two Slytherin robes made of fine fabric billowed past. Two girls with the same eyes were approaching. Today it was just the two of them. Daphne and—Astoria.
Daphne Greengrass glared down at her desperately clinging sister with a cold gaze.
"Stop raising your voice. Nobles converse with composure."
"Ah..."
"Our ears exist to hear the reports of those beneath us, our eyes exist to supervise those beneath us, and our mouths exist to command those beneath us. Speaking rapidly is something 'those who are used' do. Don't make me lecture you like this at this point."
"...I am sorry."
...Huh, is that so? So that means when Draco speaks in that obnoxiously slow drawl while making sarcastic remarks, it's... Ugh, annoying.
The sisters' conversation continued, showing no sign of noticing my presence.
"You seem dissatisfied with Father's decision, but the truth is, just as that man said, our family's financial situation is soaring. You are being favored."
"That's... because I, him..."
"Indeed. I find being at the beck and call of 'that thing' unpleasant as well. However, if Father has decided to join hands with him, we only obey. There is no room for opinions or refusal."
"......"
Astoria cast her eyes downward. Even hidden by her hair, her pale skin, similar to Draco's, looked bluish and as pure as unblemished paper. It was a color that reminded me of the deathly ill Astoria that Draco feared.
"You are a foolish girl, too. You don't have to harbor it yourself—to go to such lengths,"
"I,"
Astoria looked up. She gazed at her sister. Opening her matching eyes wide, she straightened her back like a true noble. She was—beautiful.
"If it is for Draco Malfoy—I will even swallow poison."
I gasped. Then held my breath. The aura she exuded, the very essence that made her who she was, swallowed even her sister's dignity and dominated the space.
Astoria—your love is infinitely noble.
"...Truly, a fool."
Daphne's voice was somewhat frail.

---

"Potter's sister!" I turned around at the long-unheard nickname. It was Anthony, with a bright smile, a blue robe, and a Prefect badge gleaming on his chest. I stopped walking, laughing at Harry beside me who was blatantly pouting.
"Hi, Anthony. Did something interesting happen?"
"Do you think I'm a post owl or something? —Well, I guess you're not wrong this time. You're supposed to go to the Headmaster's office at seven o'clock tonight. What did you do this time?"
"Ah... That's Harry's business. What are you going to do, Harry? You haven't finished that matter yet, have you?"
"What should I do..."
As Harry hung his head, forgetting even to glare at Anthony, Anthony tilted his head with a "Hmm?".
"No—it's Maria."
"Eh?"
"Dumbledore is calling for Maria. I heard it for sure."
Blinking. The three of us stood there dumbfounded. Dumbledore was calling me—not Harry?
Harry gently took my hand. His green eyes held a strange light.
"Harry?"
Harry didn't answer. He looked away and started walking, still holding my hand. I hurriedly thanked Anthony and followed Harry. After a certain distance, Harry stopped and, without a word, locked me in his embrace.
"Harry, what's wrong?"
"......"
"Harry."
"I..."
A thin voice brushed my ear.
"I still—believe in you, Maria."
"......"
Harry was crying out with his whole body that he felt helpless. He was trying to hold on to his only family.
—I didn't have the courage to wrap my arms around my brother's back.
After finishing dinner, where I watched Ron and Hermione—who seemed to have learned to compromise since Valentine's Day—engage in innocent, almost itch-inducing interactions, I went up the spiral staircase. Remembering that dessert had been an early Summer Pudding, I tried giving it as the password. Sure enough, past the guarding gargoyle that let me through, Dumbledore was relaxing comfortably. He had a gentle gaze.
"Good evening, Maria."
"Good evening, Professor Dumbledore."
I settled into the seat where Dumbledore had slid over a cup of black tea with a wave of his wand. Dumbledore nodded twice as if in praise.
"What Harry and I discuss in our private lessons—I assume you are naturally aware of it, are you not?"
"Yes."
"Well then, it seems you haven't heard from Harry about what the memory I showed him the other day was."
"Harry is keeping his promise."
I affirmed it while feigning nonchalance at the unspoken confirmation. Harry had only told Ron and Hermione about Riddle's memory. —He wouldn't tell me. Because this man had sworn him to secrecy. Dumbledore was a man who did not approve of concentrating information in one place.
Dumbledore stroked his beard with a "Hmm," and then interrogated me point-blank.
"You have Slytherin's locket, don't you?"
"—Yes."
Neither of us hesitated.
"Have you collected any others?"
"Riddle's diary has already been destroyed, as you know. I am holding on to Slytherin's locket and Ravenclaw's diadem."
"Ravenclaw's... I see."
Prompted by those twinkling blue eyes, I took a sip of tea. ...It's delicious. A comforting warmth.
"Harry noticed at a glance."
"I imagine he would."
"He also knows that you have it, Maria."
"I haven't been hiding it."
"When the time comes—will you hand it over to him?"
"Without fail."
I swore, looking straight at the old man. This man is trying to entrust it to me. Knowing that I am on the entrusting side just like him—he is commanding me to protect it to the very end.
What a cruel man. —To show trust in such a way.
Surely, Harry will be the one to choose my end. So, until that time—I, Maria, will gladly be a puppet.
"Professor Dumbledore. May I ask you something as well?"
"Are there things that even you do not know, Maria?"
"I am full of things I do not know. You must be aware of my numerous failures."
"Well now. I personally believe you have been doing exceptionally well, if I may say so with an old man's concern."
"You really are showing your age, Professor. They say it's best to realize one's blindness early on."
"How harsh."
I relaxed my shoulders as Dumbledore chuckled, shaking his body.
Dumbledore, harboring death in his arm, would not live past the summer. That is why I should look at him as much as I can. This gentle man.
"You are the only one who knows Maria's prophecy, aren't you?"
"As far as I know, yes."
"Not even Professor Snape knows."
"Indeed."
"...You were the one who erased my existence, weren't you?"
"That is correct."
Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, and the extra, Maria Potter. Since that incident, only Harry's name had been passed down in the wizarding world. Information about Maria was intentionally concealed—by Dumbledore, who knew the 'Prophecy'.
"Why?"
"You see, Maria. It wasn't that I was wary of you. —I was trying to keep you as a hidden trump card."
Dumbledore spoke as if an old man were telling a brief tale from the past.
"The scar on his forehead made it clear that Harry was the chosen one. However, as to who the other child was... I could not be certain. Though I will admit, you were the most likely candidate."
"But on that day, Hagrid told me. —That you had chosen the 'Thestral wand' yourself."
"──!"
"This one, too, has a Thestral tail hair for a wand core. The only wizards who can wield a Thestral wand are those who can accept death—I'm sure you, of all people, know what kind of legend this wand holds."
I gave a gentle nod to Dumbledore, who was stroking the Elder Wand with his dead hand.
"And you saw right through even my deepest cravings. When you, as a first-year, spoke of the 'Deathly Hallows' in front of me, I was certain. —That you were the child destined to stay close to death and embrace it."
His blue eyes narrowed nostalgically. Deepening his wrinkles, he wore a look of affection. It was too steeped in love to be called sympathy. He is a man who knows love.
"Tell me, Maria—do you still forgive me?"
"I forgive you."
There was no way I would hesitate.
"I believe in you. —I believe that you will use me, Maria, skillfully to the very end."
From the day he resolved to fight—Dumbledore had accepted his sins.
"It's all For the Greater Good, isn't it, Professor Dumbledore? And you say this. To Harry. To Harry, whom you raised for death. —'The truth. It is a beautiful and terrible thing.'"
Dumbledore's eyes widened, and then he smiled softly.
"When the truly important times come, you won't be here."
"...How harsh."
Dumbledore did not cry. The man who had wept, begging not to be forgiven, was no longer there. Surely, just like Sirius, he would take it all with him. He had carefully wrapped it up and swallowed it down.
Between the one who leaves nothing behind, and the ones who are left behind—I didn't think I would ever understand which was crueler.
"Dumbledore──I am your accomplice."
Fawkes, perched on my arm, gave a soft trill.