Harry, said professor Albus Dumbledore and Harry looked at the grey fading corporeal figure ahead. His voice was wizened raspy he sounded a thousand years old. Forgive me for I have put you in a difficult position, he said, I promise I'll put greater resources into ensuring your safety.
Harry didn't know what he was talking about. He felt a little guilty for having placed himself in dangerous situations, and now the good old professor was taking the responsibility for his follies. He tried telling that to the old grand wizard but words refused to come out of his throat. Instead, throaty rasp. Harry coughed, his sound echoing around the ancient stone castle a thousand times. He cleared his throat. Still nothing.
The bitter cold and stung against his face, the drops of tears flowing down from the edge of his eyes dried before they reached his cheeks leaving behind salty crumbly tearcrumbs. His throat was jammed. Harry wanted to tell Prof. Dumbledore that it was not his fault Harry had put himself in grave danger he was sorry that he felt that way and he'd try to do better. And I'm going to be a responsible student professor, make sure my friends stay safe and we do the right thing, he wanted to say, his heart leaden pulling his guts down.
The figure disappeared. There was no one.
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