The Headmaster's Office

Albus Dumbledore POV

"Licorice Snap," said the Headmaster, in front of a large and ugly stone gargoyle. A door sized entrance opened up from beside the guardian, revealing a spiral staircase which led up to highest point of the Headmaster's tower.

Going up the stairs, Albus arrived at his office; a large circular room, with many windows and portraits. A messy wooden desk sat in the middle of the room and to either of its sides were steps which one could follow to the balcony.

"Sorting Hat!" Albus called, as he walked in.

"I'm here Albus," the Hat's gruff voice. Albus saw the Hat was sat atop his desk, a knowing smile in its creases. The Headmaster made his way over, passing silver tables with artefacts a littered upon them as he went.

"A new school year, with new students so full of potential and wonder, how joyous," Albus said chirpily, "Oh how I look forward to seeing how they grow!"

The Hat agreed, "Indeed, a talented lot. But you could have spoken about such matters with your staff, surely they make better company this dusty old headwear?"

The Headmaster laughed. "You devalue yourself my friend. Truly, not many have such pleasant conversation as yourself."

"Perhaps," the pointed Hat nodded. "Still, what do you call me for Albus?"

'You've always been straight to the point.' Albus sighed, "I believe you well know of the reason."

"The boy?"

"Yes, tell me of his character," Albus said more seriously.

"There is only so much I can tell you, Albus, I as enchanted such," the Hat told him.

'I wonder how many times I've heard those words,' Albus mused inwardly. 'Too many to count I suppose.' The Headmaster responded, "Just tell me what you can. I won't push you for more."

After a moment of silence, it was the Hat's turn to let out a sigh, "The family you left him with, they almost make me wonder if Salazar was right. Was there really no one else?"

"There wasn't," said Albus in a regretful tone. 'Though sometimes I wonder. Perhaps there was another option. One I just wasn't able to see. However, what's done is done.' That night, so many years ago, Albus had left Harry Potter with his only living family, the Dursleys. A spiteful lot, he knew, but they would keep him safe.

"They haven't treated him well," the Hat said.

"I worried they wouldn't."

"Still, he's come out of it better than most could. He has a brave heart, and plenty of kindness." Albus was relieved by the Hat's words, it had seen inside the Harry's mind, and while it couldn't tell him his secrets, Albus knew it wouldn't lie to him.

"He looks like his father," Albus mentioned, reminiscence flashing across his eyes.

"And his father before him," the Sorting Hat added. There was a silence as the two thought back fondly on their memories. "I wish to rest, was there anything else you needed?"

Albus stroked his long white beard, "Just one more. There was another oddity in this year's entrants, you see."

"The Gaunt child?" the Hat questioned, it's folds looking like raised brows.

"We were all shocked to see such a name appear on the Charter," said Albus finally taking a seat by his desk. The Hogwarts Charter was an enchanted item much like the Sorting Hat, although not sentient. Like the Hat, it had been made by the founders of Hogwarts, and it's job was to list all the children within the country that were eligible to attend the school. A wizard or witch's name would appear on the Charter on their eleventh year, thus allowing the school to know who to send out invitation letters to. 'A truly convenient invention.'

"The Gaunt family line was believed to have ended when the only son of Marvolo Gaunt died in Azkaban. Morfin was locked up nearly fifty years ago and he would be nearing a hundred years of age had he been alive today. There has been no mention of a generation after him in all this time and yet now, a boy shows up out of the blue with the Gaunt name?" Albus shook his head, "I fear the worst, old friend."

'If he is 'his' son… no, if he had a son, he wouldn't have sent him here.'

The Sorting Hat could sense Albus's distress. "You must not jump to conclusions, Albus."

"It is the only conclusion I can come up," Albus said slowly. He stared intently at the Hat, "I can only hope you know something I don't." His voice was old and with little expectation. The Hat was quiet, looking as if it had gone deep into thought, it made Albus hopeful. When the Hat said nothing, Albus chose to prod out an answer. "Old friend. Do you truly know something more?"

The Hat looked towards the Headmaster and made it's decision. It sighed, "Yes, I have an idea of the boy's parentage."

Albus sprang up with the vigour of a much younger man, "Then you must tell me, old friend."

"I cannot… it is not my secret to tell."

Albus knew what that meant. The founders had enchanted the Hat with sentience and a duty to protect the students of Hogwarts. If the Hat could not tell even Albus, the Headmaster, of what it knew then, "They were a student?"

The Hat's silence was answer enough for Albus. "I see," he said quietly. 'It's not much, but now I know where to start looking.' Albus let out a sigh, "Such a busy old I life I have."

"You're a good Headmaster, Albus."

Those words meant a lot to Albus, he smiled, "Thank you, my friend."

"I believe it is time I left. You have visitors," the Hat said gruffly. Albus nodded, and the Sorting Hat soon vanished, leaving Albus alone in the room.

He waited on the spot until he heard footsteps, "Oh!" Albus sat at his desk and a phoenix feather quill floated into his grasp. As the sound of the step drew closer, he dipped red quill into ink, and got to writing.

He listened as the sound of their steps came closer and when it stopped, the more impatient guest spoke, "I have brought him, Headmaster." He was a tall and dark-haired man in black robes, and he was stood in front of a boy with a far lighter white blonde hair. The two made quite the contrast.

Albus raised his head, with a look of surprise, "My, I hadn't heard you come in."

"I'm sure," the man drawled out, disbelieving. Albus merely smiled back.

'Was I caught? I'll have to be more careful next time.' Tricking his potions professor was one of Albus's favourite pastimes.

"I will wait outside as you talk," Albus heard the man say. The man then turned and started making his way out,

"Ah, wait, Severus," Albus called out.

Severus faced Albus once more, "What is it?"

"Would you like a sweet?" Albus said kindly, suddenly a bowl of wrapped sweets in his hands.

Severus looked at the sweets with derision. "No." Albus watched the tall and lanky man walk off with amusement.

'So he doesn't like Apple Bites as well. Perhaps sugar mice will fair better the next time,' Albus thought. 'Now then,' he turned his attention to the young student who had been waiting silently. Albus had seen the boy at the start-of-year banquet, but it had been from a distance and it was only now that he was able to fully get a look at him. He was bit taller than most his age but had a thin frame and messy white blonde hair that his eyes hid behind.

The boy was an unsolved mystery to Albus, and he had a feeling it was one that was important to find out. But most importantly, he was a student at Hogwarts, and Albus had a duty to make him feel welcome. "Well, how about you Charles, a snack?" he gestured towards the bowl of sweets.

Charles snuck a glance towards where Severus had walked off, "No thank you, Headmaster."

Albus chuckled, "Don't worry about Severus. He's not particularly fond of sour things." He unwrapped one and put it in his mouth. Albus squinted, "Very sour indeed. I will leave them on the table, feel free to try one a any time."

Charles nodded and asked, "Headmaster, is there a reason you asked for me?"

'Does he not know, or is he prodding for answers?' Albus was having a hard time reading the boy's intention as his eyes, as well as most of his face, was covered by his hair. 'Truly the eyes are the window to the soul.' Albus flicked a finger softly and a small wind gently pushed Charles's fringe to the side.

The first thing Albus thought when he saw the boy's eyes was 'Dark'. It was more than them just being black. It was strange. The irises were darker than the pupils and each of his eyes was like a bottomless abyss, pulling you in deeper and deeper until you could no longer escape.

Albus was sure he had never seen such eyes before, but the rest of his features, there was something familiar about them. 'The Hat was right.'

"Headmaster?" said Charles, not knowing why Albus had gone quiet. His call brought Albus out of his thoughts.

"Ah yes, you asked the reason I called you, correct."

"I did," Charles affirmed.

"Hmm, you see, I believe you might have noticed that you seem to have caught the attention of a lot of the students during the ceremony today." Charles nodded. "I don't suppose you would know why?"

Charles shook his head, "I don't. Truth be told Headmaster, I was worried it was because they thought I was a little scary." He said it casually, but Albus could feel a little pain behind those words.

"Nonsense, dear Charles. You are far from frightening," Albus told him, though Charles didn't appear to believe him. 'Well I suppose it can't be helped, he is a little scary for his age.' "In fact, I imagine that the girls will be swooning all over you!"

'Hmm? I was hoping for at least a blush. Still a bit too young for such things, I see.' Embarrassing his young students about such matters was one of his favourite pastimes. Most boys Charles's age would respond to his teasing with reddened cheeks or ears. Albus guessed Charles was a bit behind when it came to girls.

Unaware of his Headmaster's thoughts, and ignoring his teasing, Charles probed for the reason why he was getting attention. "Well if that's not the reason, can you tell me what is." It wasn't a question, Charles fully expected Albus to give him the answer.

'He's very eager to know. Is it curiosity, or desire?' Albus's wonderings were cut short by Charles.

"Please Headmaster, can you tell me," once again it wasn't a question.

"Do you really not have the slightest idea?" Albus had a feeling that he knew more than he let on but as Charles wasn't the most expressive child his age, Albus had to try harder to figure out his thoughts.

Surely enough, Charles admitted he did, "I was thinking it had something to do with my surname. I didn't know I had one until recently." There was that sadness again. Albus didn't know why he felt it. There was no hint of it in the child's tone or on his face.

'Minerva did tell me he was an orphan. He must want to know about where he came from.' Albus felt a little guilty, 'His parents, did they die… one of them must have carried the Gaunt name, were they killed… am I to be forced once more to face another one of 'His' victims.'

Albus made sure to keep his thoughts well hidden as he replied, "You are right, Charles." Albus could see how attentively Charles was listening. "You see in our world, the magical world, the name Gaunt carries a great deal of importance…" he paused, "or at least, it did."