Chapter 127: 2

After receiving a scolding and treatment from Madam Pomfrey, I had swapped places with Harry and come to the Headmaster's office. It had been a while since I'd seen this interior. The one sitting in the Headmaster's chair was not Professor McGonagall, nor were the portraits of past headmasters displayed.

"Have a seat, Maria."

Dumbledore's voice was tinged with a bitterness that seemed heavily masked by deep affection. I sat down in front of the old man. I could tell the portraits were pretending to be asleep while listening in. Phineas Nigellus's portrait was empty.

"...It seems Harry didn't half-destroy the room."

"Did the Harry you know do so?"

"Spectacularly."

When I smiled only with my lips, Dumbledore returned a weak smile.

He is an unfair person. This man thinks it's alright to show weakness in front of me. He is trying to make me bear the burden too. He knows that I—that I love and forgive him. Just like Draco is to me—he is trying to make me his accomplice.

And he knows that I won't reject it.

"I told Harry. About the beginning of his connection with Voldemort. ...Though, of course, you already know."

"Yes. More than you, I'm sure. Even a little beyond your own convictions."

"Do you resent me? I have failed. And I have cornered the brother you love. —I have taken what you love from you."

"—No."

I shook my head, which still felt like it was creaking. Once this conversation was over, I would be hospitalized again. Along with Harry, I was quite the regular. Even Madam Pomfrey's scoldings were becoming somewhat half-hearted.

"It must be more painful for you to be forgiven. That is why I forgive you, and I do not resent you."

Dumbledore hung his head in sheer exhaustion, looking every bit his old age.

"Maria—you know me well."

"Yes. I know you very well. Above all—this time too, it was my failure."

Dumbledore's eyes were moist with pain.

"I messed up. I lured him out. I—put Harry and the others in danger."

"Maria."

"Please don't say it. That it couldn't be helped—that it wasn't my fault—I don't want to hear that. That isn't kindness. You know that very well."

Silence. The room was filled with a heaviness that made even the portraits hold their breath.

"We both—failed."

That was the truth. Dumbledore had failed. I had failed. —It is always "me" who makes the mistakes.

"—But, Lucius was saved. Wasn't he?"

"────"

I raised my head sharply. There were no longer any tears visible in Dumbledore's eyes.

"Draco did not lose him. In other words—he was victorious."

"Yes... yes, he never let go."

Without looking away, he sought it with all his heart—and snatched it back. Draco was the only victor in that battle.

"It is a salvation. That... will be a great salvation for us."

"...Yes."

I clenched my fists. I could only nod. Because—I promised I wouldn't cry. Even if that promise would never reach you.

"Maria, you are a kind child. I love you, too. I pray that you will never see despair, that you will remain healthy until that time comes. I wish for it. I love you. If an old fool like me could take your place, I wouldn't begrudge my life. You are all—so dear to me. But, nevertheless, you must face the 'Prophecy'—"

"────Prophecy?"

Suddenly, the air froze. Dumbledore's eyes were wide open. Mine were opened even wider.

Prophecy? A prophecy? ──── About me?

"What do you mean? A prophecy... about me? About Maria? Are you certain?"

"...Did you not know?"

"I—I know Harry's prophecy. The one born as the seventh month dies. Born to parents who have thrice defied the Dark Lord. And—the Dark Lord chose him himself. By marking him."

"That's right."

"Neither can live while the other survives—Harry and Voldemort must, in the end, try to kill each other."

"Exactly."

Dumbledore was shaken. He had a very human expression.

"And────Trelawney's prophecy wasn't just that?"

"That is exactly right, Maria."

Again, silence. Even without words, the room was at the height of confusion.

"Maria's prophecy—does it have to do with Harry—?"

"You could say so, or perhaps not. To be precise, it is a prophecy concerning 'The Boy Who Lived'."

Dumbledore had taken out his wand. He placed the tip against his temple. And────he hesitated. Looking as if he were about to tell a terribly cruel truth to a young child—as if he were about to commit a cruel act against a helpless, innocent creature—he remained silent with that expression.

"Professor."

"Maria, I love you."

"Professor Dumbledore."

"You are all so dear to me. How could I make you suffer any more?"

"Professor Dumbledore!"

When I demanded an answer with a burst of temper, Dumbledore finally drew out the thread of memory. A pitifully feeble silver thread was sucked into the Pensieve.

"I—I thought you knew..."

Trelawney's voice began to speak.

—A boy and a girl, divided. Originally a single child. The girl will stay close. She will accompany the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord until her dying day. She will embrace death.

Neither can live while the other survives. The divided children cannot live at the same time—

"────"

"The only boy-and-girl twins close to 'The Boy Who Lived' are—you two."

It was completely silent. Even my own heartbeat felt fake, and the portraits had forgotten to feign sleep as they listened in intently. Dumbledore wore an expression of sheer agony.

And Maria.

"I────have to die for Harry?"

Only Fawkes, the ugly little chick chirping "peep peep," gave a foolish-sounding reply.

The divided children—we weren't the only twins at Hogwarts. There were the Weasley twins. The Patil twins, too. But both of those pairs were same-sex twins. And—even if 'The Boy Who Lived' had been Neville, I would have walked alongside him. The twin girl accompanying 'The Boy Who Lived' is────only me, Maria.

"So—"

I stood up.

"So, that's why you didn't eliminate me? Such a suspicious person—from the side of Harry, 'The Boy Who Lived'? You intentionally overlooked me so that we would remain a pair? You thought that Harry's danger was something Maria had to shoulder, didn't you?"

"I thought you knew. I never imagined—never imagined—that your devotion came solely from your heart—from your love for your brother—"

"Was I—was I, too, being raised like a pig for slaughter?"

"No!"

Dumbledore stood up as well. Looking once again like an exhausted old man, Dumbledore seemed as if he would collapse at any moment. Even so—that was not permitted for him. As long as everyone needed Dumbledore, as long as they blindly believed in the absolute protection that was Dumbledore, he had to hollow out his heart and respond to their expectations.

Just as Harry Potter had to be a 'hero'.

"Even so—I wanted you all to be happy more than anything."

At Dumbledore's hoarse cry, I instinctively covered my mouth. Such pretty words—I bit my lip into my hand, holding back the curses that were about to burst forth.

What was different? Between me and him—what exactly was different? Neither of us could ever hold a sword to stab the other.

"Maria..."

I somehow swallowed my burning fury along with my saliva and stood before Dumbledore. My voice was entirely devoid of emotion.

"Say it."

"Maria."

"Say it with your own mouth. Don't entrust it to someone else, say it with your own mouth. ────Tell me to die at the proper moment."

"────"

Don't do something as cowardly as leaving it to Professor Snape. You must taste it yourself. —The cruelty that we are alive, yet our deaths are desired by the very people we love. The fact that we are living as human beings.

The fact that you and I—are not allowed an escape route.

Dumbledore gasped under the weight of his guilt.

"Maria—please—please────"

Dumbledore, who knows pain—is human.

"For Harry's sake, at the proper moment, please die."

I.

"—Yes."

I smiled. I was able to smile. It felt as though a stagnation had been wiped away. I pushed the sludge that had been clinging to my throat all the way down to the bottom of my stomach. It didn't disappear, but accumulated.

This is fine. ...For now, this is enough.

"I'm sorry, Maria... Maria... Please do not forgive a helpless old fool."

"No, I forgive you. So please suffer greatly for it."

Tears spilled from Dumbledore's twinkling blue eyes. This person—even though he is so human.

"Professor Dumbledore. I love you."

"Maria..."

"I feel an endless debt of gratitude towards you. I am inheriting your spirit. ...Even to this extent."

I embraced the shoulders of the old man in front of me. I should be feeling Dumbledore as larger than I did when I was Harry. Because this body is Maria, who is more fragile than Harry. However—what small shoulders. This person is human.

"Therefore, this is special. It's a special secret just for you, Professor. Listen closely. ────Harry was blessed with three children."

"────"

"One is a mischievous boy, James Sirius Potter. The second is quiet, but remarkably stubborn just like him, Albus Severus Potter. The third is a spoiled little princess, Lily Luna Potter. They are all adorable children."

"...And Harry, did he..."

"Harry lived happily."

"...Oh, oh..."

Dumbledore's hands pressed against my back. People who live for the sake of others—are always punishing themselves. Unless someone forgives them, their hearts will remain bloodstained forever.

"Now, Professor. Pull yourself together. You are Albus Dumbledore, after all. There is a child in the future who adores you and inherits your name. You need to keep up a more flawless appearance so that Albus Severus isn't disappointed."

"...You are harsh."

Dumbledore's hands left my back. His tears had vanished behind a smile.

"Because your story was so long, Professor, I'm completely starving."

"An old man's stories tend to be long, after all."

"That's enough just for the end-of-term speeches. ...I wonder if Madam Pomfrey will give me permission to go to the Great Hall."

"Well now, the feast might be put on hold for the time being."

"You won't put in a good word for me?"

"I am quite powerless against the good matron myself. I must bow my head to her, as you can see."

I chuckled at Dumbledore, who dropped his head dejectedly, almost like Nearly Headless Nick.

It's alright, I can smile. Because I promised you. —Because I promised I wouldn't cry.

"Maria."

Just as I laid my hand on the doorknob, Dumbledore's voice called me softly.

"Are you—"

Dumbledore completely swallowed the words that were to follow. And then, with eyes full of affection, he asked.

"If you could meet the dead—what would you do?"

I answered.

"I already have."

This world is made of miracles. —We are living inside a miracle.

Right after leaving the Headmaster's office, I ran into a black-haired girl. Having suffered the lightest injuries during the battle at the Department of Mysteries, it seemed she had managed to escape Madam Pomfrey's sentence of hospitalization. Although she still had bandages here and there, she stood in a dignified manner that did not compromise her beauty.

"Hi, Cho."

"So this is where you were. I just went to visit you in the hospital wing."

"I was just on my way back."

Interspersing our walk with small talk, we naturally shared the corridor together. Suddenly, I remembered Anthony. I often walked like this with him. And then, Draco would interrupt us along the way────

"............"

"............"

It was awkward. I couldn't keep escaping into my own mind forever. I stopped. Cho stopped, too.

She doesn't know. If she knew, what would she think? —That the Maria she was so desperately trying to protect had been destined to die from the moment she was born.

"—You must resent me."

The one to break the silence was Cho.

"I know who he is. I've seen him in the Daily Prophet several times. Sirius Black—he was something... like a parent to you, wasn't he?"

"Yeah."

"If I hadn't stopped you, you might have made it in time."

"............"

"But, you might have died."

"—It might not have been like that!"

My own voice echoed through the empty corridor, and I gasped in surprise. Cho was looking at me quietly with calm, still eyes.

"Even so, I would do the same thing. I would repeat it over and over. No matter how many times we faced the same situation, I would hold you back. I will choose the path where you absolutely do not die. So—I won't apologize. I won't apologize to you."

Cho was crying.

"You must resent me."

"Cho..."

"We... ended up standing in the exact same place, didn't we?"

I reached out to touch the cheek of the beautifully crying girl. Making her cry like this... would you be angry with me, Cedric?

If I end up slipping through those hands after all—would you end up crying too?

"Why are you the one crying?"

"Because you won't cry. I cried. I cried a lot. I cried and I accepted it. You helped me accept it. —But you, you don't cry."

"Cho."

"That's why I'm crying. Come on, look, if you want me to stop crying, then try crying yourself."

"That's completely unreasonable."

I wiped her wet cheek with my finger. No matter how many times I wiped them away, beautiful pearls kept spilling over. Far from crying—how could I help but laugh at this?

"You really are a crybaby, aren't you?"

"You speak as if you know all about it."

"Actually, I do know the you who cries a lot."

"You must have heard it from Cedric."

"You're not far off, I suppose."

I smiled wryly at her as she finally began to truly sob. She was older than me, taller, more mature, and my crush since my time as Harry Potter—yet seeing someone like her crying with her nose and ears bright red made her look just like a child throwing a tantrum over something they couldn't have.

"Please, just cry. I can't bear to watch you."

"I won't cry."

"Why?"

"I made a promise. ...Because I promised I wouldn't cry."

"That's—that's just a curse."

Cho cried loudly. Her voice sounded as if she were blaming someone far away.

For my sake────she was blaming someone.