"Alright," Harry gave a slow nod, still confused. "What am I missing?"
"It's not your fault, mind," said Wendell. "By the sounds of it... and from what little the aurors, you and Hermione have let slip... you were abused while under the supposed care of your relatives."
Harry's expression immediately turned to one Wendell would call 'guarded'.
"And that's one example of what I'm talking about," he continued, ignoring it. "You never refer to them as your 'aunt and uncle'; you refer to them as 'my relatives' directly, or 'the Dursleys' indirectly. You refer to your cousin as 'their son'; while referring to your distantly-related relatives on the Black side as your 'cousins'. You've even hinted obliquely at how they've treated you, almost slipping up and telling us some of the horrid things they've done to you.
"So, let me ask you directly, did or have they ever shown you love?"
Relaxing a bit, Harry thought about it and replied, "I saw them say they loved each other many times."
"And by your answer I'm also hearing that they never directed that love towards you."
Harry frowned and Wendell could see the boy also defensively curl up. "No."
"The fault for that lays entirely with them, Harry," Wendell gently said. "Denying a child love is simply another form of child abuse; one that's emotional, in nature.
"Why it's considered child abuse and not just neglect is because the child learns how to recognise love directed to them by others by the love directed to them by those who are supposed to care for them. And it's from experiencing that love that they learn to love back.
"What you also need to understand... and accept... is that there are people who do love you, right now. I have no doubt that your parents loved you, very much. After all, they gave their lives to protect you so that you could live.
"But, there are people, in the here and now, that also love you. Your godfather, Sirius, is clearly one of those. And... so is my daughter."
Harry was beginning to think of his relationship with his godfather and the man's focus on him when he heard Wendell mention Hermione. It was such a shock he tried to whip around so fast to look at the man he almost toppled himself off the chair.
Managing to unconsciously catch himself in time he stared, almost horrified, at his friend's father.
"I thought so," said a satisfied Wendell. "You didn't know."
"No!" blurted Harry. "W-we're just friends!"
"You're lying to yourself, Harry. You just don't realise it," Wendell firmly stated back. "You don't see it because, as I said, you lacked love being directed at you as a child. Sirius loves you, Hermione loves you and I dare say there are others I don't know about yet.
"Don't try and deny it; try and accept it. Don't just think me wrong until you've given yourself time to seriously think about it.
"You're a smart young man. Analyse it, then reach your conclusion. Otherwise, all you're doing is leaping to a conclusion before you've analysed the evidence. Isn't that something you accuse those in the wizarding world of doing? Leaping to conclusions based on opinions rather than confirmed facts?"
When Harry didn't answer, but appeared to be deep in thought, Wendell said, "I'll leave you to it." He then rose from his seat and returned inside.
Wendell didn't know if Harry heard him or not because the boy-man didn't react. But he knew, somewhere in the young man's mind, that he did.
_β_
β==(oIo)==β
Λ
After finally going to his 'new' office, the one that was his back until he became Headmaster in 1969, Dumbledore walked in and sighed. All his personal effects from out of his office were now in there. The larger items were standing on their own; the smaller items were all in open-topped boxes. Even his desk from out of his... the Head's... office was there, having replaced Minerva's. So was his chair.
After a long and disappointed sigh before drawing the Elder Wand out of his belt, he began rearranging things back to how he preferred it. The desk was moved to allow light from the window not to fall directly on the desktop, his office chair tucked in behind it. This then necessitated the moving of the shelving.
Next he moved his small tables into places he wanted them and placed chairs either side of one. He'd often sit on those chairs at that table with a friend, just to discuss matters. With the office being somewhat smaller than the Headmaster's office some of his little tables that used to only have trinkets placed on them had to be removed completely.
Once the furniture was laid out he then began to empty the boxes of their contents onto the desk, the shelves and the occasional tables.
As he worked he soon realised he was missing what he considered some of his things. Most of the important books were gone; so were other small items he'd acquired over the years. But, more importantly, so were the little trinkets that were monitors he used to monitor young Harry - his health, his mental state, even the scrying device he could use to find the boy if he was to ever 'disappear' that was based on the boy's blood.
He became so focused on his 'Harry Potter' monitors missing, the reason for why the items, including the others, were missing never crossed his mind.
Angrily, he called for an elf. It arrived with a small pop of displaced air.
"Yes, Perfesser Whiskers?" it asked.
"It's Head... damn it," he began. "Where are the rest of my personal effects?"
The elf quickly looked around and replied, "Theys be in Perfesser Whiskerses apartment."
Snapping his gaze to the door leading into the apartment, he took the few steps needed to reach the door, opened it and entered.
After his eyes quickly swept the room he yelled, "Elf!"
"Yes, Perfesser Whiskers?" the little elf asked. It was standing in the doorway.
"I mean the rest of my things from out of my office!" he snapped at it.
"Headmistress lady said to elveses to bring all Perfesser Whiskerses thingsies to Perfesser Whiskerses new office. Elveses dids that."
"There were things in my office that are not here!" snapped the old man. "Where are they?"
"There were thingsies in Headmistress lady's office that were not Perfesser Whiskerses thingsies," replied the elf. "Headmistress lady told elveses to puts them elsewhere and only Headmistress lady to know. Headmistress lady told elves not to tell."
"Bring them to me," he ordered.
"Headmistress lady be tellings elveses not to brings dem to anyone else but Headmistress lady," replied the elf. "Elveses be obeying new Headmistress lady, not Perfesser Whiskers."
"Damn it!" snarled Dumbledore. "GET OUT!" he bellowed.
The little elf popped away without another word.
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