Chapter 229: Explosion (1/2)

Well, not exactly beaming. Chris and Harry expected him to be happy but Sirius was looking very worried.

”Harry!” Sirius said, looking thoroughly shocked. ”What are you — what's happened, is everything all right?”

”Yes,” said Harry automatically.

”No,” Chris elbowed Harry hard and took the mirror from him.

”Christina?” Sirius looked more worried.

”Sirius, this is very serious — that sounded weird — but everything is not alright, I need to talk to Dumbledore without Umbridge interfering,” Chris said urgently. ”Do you think you can help with that? I mean could you tell Dumbledore about this?”

”It's about the mass Azkaban breakout, isn't it?” Sirius said gravely.

Chris nodded.

”Yes, of course,” Sirius said nodding to himself. ”Your Dementor friend must have told you or did he join Voldemort too?”

”He didn't,” Chris said louder than she meant. ”He never would have —”

Chris caught herself before she could start yelling at Sirius. Harry got close to Chris and looked at Sirius through the mirror.

”Dames, the Dementor died, Sirius,” said Harry. ”He tried to stop Voldemort but failed. He didn't join him.”

Sirius looked a little uncomfortable then said, ”Sorry to hear that.”

”So do you think you can talk to Dumbledore?” asked Chris dismissively.

”Yes, I'm in Grimmauld Place, so I can inform him right away,” said Sirius.

”Thanks,” Chris handed the mirror to Harry. ”You two talk, I have Ancient Runes class, so bye.”

Chris left in a hurry though it was early for her class. She was finding it hard to decide whether she wanted to be with people or not. She didn't want to show herself vulnerable but from inside she was regretting not telling anyone about how upset and hurt she felt.

After dinner, Chris went to meet Dumbledore as he asked her too. As she stopped in front of the oak door of Dumbledore's office, she heard there were voices coming from inside the room, a positive babble of them. It sounded as though Dumbledore was entertaining at least a dozen people. Maybe for the first time, Chris didn't want to eavesdrop. She rapped three times with the griffin knocker, and the voices ceased abruptly as though someone had switched them all off. The door opened of its own accord and Chris stepped inside.

”Christina, I thought you would like to meet me.”

Dumbledore was sitting in a high-backed chair behind his desk; he leaned forward into the pool of candlelight illuminating the papers laid out before him.

”But still you didn't ask me to come,” said Chris flatly.

”Ah. . . I knew you would find a way —”

”Dames died,” growled Chris over Dumbledore. ”Riddle went to Azkaban himself. Almost every Dementor supported me died, Professor.”

”But not all of them, am I right?” Dumbledore said quietly.

”How do you know?” Chris said crossing her arms over her chest.

”Yesterday's temperature,” said Dumbledore coolly. ”Anyways, I think you want a place for the survived Dementors?”

Chris' mouth fell open, she hadn't thought about it but it wasn't a bad idea.

”Yes,” Chris said composing herself.