Chapter 24: Discipline
Harry's hand trembled slightly as he held out the crystal phial, watching the liquid inside shine with an inner light. "Please, you have to take it right now. It's special, it'll stop you from getting old!"
Dumbledore gently pushed Harry's hand down, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles. "My dear boy, while I appreciate your concern, I must decline."
"But-" Harry started to protest.
"Death is not something to be feared, Harry. It is something I consider the next great adventure." Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap. "Growing old is a natural part of life, one that brings its own kind of wisdom and beauty."
Harry shook his head frantically. "No, you don't understand. This isn't just any potion - it's the Elixir of Life! It makes you stop aging completely and brings you back to when you were strongest, and you can't get sick anymore either." He took a deep breath. "And I'll get another one every ten years, so you'll never have to worry about being alone."
Dumbledore, who had been smiling gently throughout Harry's explanation, suddenly went very still. "You said it returns someone to their prime?"
"Yes! And makes them immune to disease too. Please, Grandpa - I don't want you to leave like..." Harry trailed off, unable to finish the sentence about his parents.
Dumbledore studied the shifting liquid for a long moment. "That is quite different from Nicolas's stone," he murmured, almost to himself. "And you're certain about getting another every ten years?"
"Yes! The words said so exactly." Harry clutched the phial tighter. "Please take it. I want you to stay."
The old wizard was quiet for several long seconds as he stroked his beard. Finally, he reached out and carefully took the crystal phial from Harry's hand.
Dumbledore held the phial up to the light streaming through his office window, watching how the liquid moved inside its phial. "Harry, I understand how much this means to you. But I need to be absolutely certain about what this is before I consider drinking it."
"But the words said-" Harry started.
"Yes, and I believe you," Dumbledore said gently. "However, there's an old friend of mine who knows more about the Elixir of Life than anyone else alive. I'd like him to examine this with me, to understand exactly how it works."
Harry slumped back in his chair. He knew Dumbledore was being sensible - after all, drinking unknown potions was dangerous. But part of him had hoped his grandpa would just trust him and take it right away.
"Who's your friend?" Harry asked, trying not to sound too disappointed.
"Nicolas Flamel," Dumbledore replied, still studying the elixir. "He created the Philosopher's Stone, which produces a different version of the Elixir of Life. If anyone can help us understand this potion properly, it's him."
Harry perked up slightly. He'd seen Nicolas Flamel before in one of his rare Famous Witches and Wizards Cards! "The one who's over six hundred years old?"
"Indeed." Dumbledore finally lowered the phial, and Harry noticed something odd in his expression - a flash of what looked like hope, quickly hidden. "This potion... if it can indeed make me return to my prime, it would..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "No, nevermind."
Harry wanted to ask what Dumbledore meant, but the old wizard was already carefully wrapping the crystal phial in a silk handkerchief and placing it in a drawer of his desk. "I'll contact Nicolas tonight. For now, why don't you go and read your new books?"
Harry nodded slowly, still watching the desk drawer where Dumbledore had placed the Elixir. He attached his pouch to his enchanted belt, but before he could stand up, Dumbledore raised his hand.
"One more thing, Harry. It's very important that you don't tell anyone about this Elixir - not even your friends or the professors." Dumbledore's voice was firm. "There are many dark wizards who would do terrible things to obtain such a potion. Some might even try to hurt you or the people you care about to learn how you got it."
The words made Harry's stomach twist uncomfortably. He had already figured that out himself - if bad people found out he could get an Elixir of Life every ten years, they wouldn't care that he was just a child. They would do anything to force him to give them the potion, just like they had tried to hurt him because he had somehow defeated Voldemort as a baby.
"I understand, Grandpa," Harry said quietly. "It's like how I don't tell anyone about the special words, except you."
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows slightly. "Speaking of things you tell me... did anything particularly interesting happen today that you might have forgotten to mention?"
Harry paused, then shrugged. He had planned to tell Madam Rakepick about it, but if Grandpa wanted to know now, why not? He explained about the Dementor in the courtyard, Charlotte's Patronus tiger, and the mysterious letters from R.
As Harry finished his story, Dumbledore's expression grew increasingly serious. He steepled his fingers together and leaned forward. "Harry, help me understand something. Why did you not immediately come to tell me about a soul-sucking monster loose on the school grounds?"
"Well..." Harry shifted in his chair. "I was going to tell Madam Rakepick. She said she'd help us investigate the vaults safely."
"I see." Dumbledore's voice was calm, but Harry could tell he wasn't happy. "And did you consider that while you were making these plans, other students might encounter this Dementor? Students who cannot cast a Patronus or transform into an eagle to escape?"
Harry's stomach dropped. He hadn't really thought about that. He'd been so focused on solving the mystery and helping Charlotte that he'd forgotten about the danger to everyone else.
"I know you want to have adventures and solve mysteries, Harry. That's natural for someone as curious and capable as you are." Dumbledore's blue eyes held Harry's gaze. "But you cannot treat dangerous situations like a game. What if Miss Haywood hadn't been found quickly after her encounter with the Dementor? What if Miss Karasu had wandered deeper into the Forbidden Forest while sleepwalking?"
"I'm sorry," Harry said quietly. "I just... I wanted to help Charlotte find her brother. And I can take care of myself with my abilities."
"Harry." Dumbledore's voice grew softer. "While I admire your desire to help your friends, and your confidence in your abilities, you must understand that being able to protect yourself does not mean you should seek out danger."
Harry frowned, crossing his arms. "But my mist and fire can stop bad things. And I can fly away if it's too dangerous. And now I'm smarter too, so-"
"Enough." Dumbledore cut him off firmly. The old wizard stood up and walked around his desk, kneeling in front of Harry's chair so they were at eye level. "You are still a child, Harry. A remarkably gifted child, yes, but still seven years old. Your special abilities do not make you invincible, nor do they give you the right to put others at risk."
"I wasn't putting anyone at risk! I was trying to help!"
"By keeping quiet about a Dementor loose in the school?" Dumbledore shook his head. "No, Harry. That was not helping. That was being reckless."
Harry felt his eyes start to burn. He wasn't being reckless - he was being brave! Like his parents had been! But before he could say this, Dumbledore continued.
"I think you need some time to think about the difference between being helpful and being reckless. For the next month, you will not be allowed in the library except for supervised study periods. No flying as an eagle. And you will write me an essay about why it's important to tell adults when dangerous situations arise."
"But that's not fair!" Harry protested. "Charlotte gets to keep investigating!"
"Miss Whitewood is not you, Harry. You are seven." Dumbledore's voice remained gentle. "And while you may be exceptionally intelligent and talented, that does not change the fact that you are still developing emotionally."
"But I'm smarter now! And I have special powers!" Harry blinked hard, trying to keep the tears from falling. "I can help people! I'm the Boy-Who-Lived…"
"And that is precisely why I must be strict with you now," Dumbledore said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Being the Boy-Who-Lived, having special powers, being exceptionally bright - these things mean you have a greater responsibility to make good choices, not an excuse to be reckless."
Harry slumped in his chair. He understood what Grandpa was saying, but it still hurt. He had tried so hard to be helpful, to be brave like his parents, and now he was being punished for it.
"But what about Charlotte?" Harry asked, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "She needs help finding her brother."
"And she will receive that help - from the proper authorities, including Madam Rakepick." Dumbledore returned to his chair. "Your role right now is to be a good friend to Charlotte, not to put yourself in danger trying to solve mysteries meant for much older wizards."
"I don't want to just sit and do nothing," Harry said quietly.
"You won't be doing nothing. You'll be learning, growing, and most importantly, staying safe." Dumbledore's eyes softened. "Harry, do you know why I'm being so firm about this?"
Harry shook his head.
"Because I care about you very much, and the thought of you getting hurt..." Dumbledore paused, seeming to gather his thoughts. "Perhaps it would be good for you to spend some time away from the castle for a while."
Harry's eyes widened in horror, and tears immediately started falling. "No! Please, I don't want to go away! I'll be good, I promise!" His voice cracked as he spoke, hands gripping the arms of his chair tightly.
"I don't mean permanently," Dumbledore said quickly, but his expression remained serious. "But maybe... yes, perhaps my old friend wouldn't mind someone staying with him and his wife for a while..."
Harry's breath hitched as he tried to stop crying. The thought of leaving Hogwarts, of leaving his home and his family, was terrifying. Even though he knew logically that going away temporarily wasn't the same thing, he couldn't help but panic at the idea.
"Please," Harry whispered, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "I'll tell you everything right away next time. I won't try to solve mysteries anymore. Just don't send me away."
"Harry," Dumbledore said gently, "I think this would be good for you. My old friends are very nice and patient people. And with the Elixir to examine, the timing couldn't be better."
Harry shrank further into his chair. "But Hogwarts is my home."
"And it will remain your home," Dumbledore assured him. "This would just be for some time. Think of it as... a special kind of lesson."
"What about my painting practice? And Chiara's..." Harry stopped himself before mentioning the full moon. Even upset, he remembered his promise to keep her secret.
"You can take your art supplies with you. And I'm sure your friends will understand a short absence." Dumbledore said gently. "This isn't a punishment, Harry. It's an opportunity to learn from two of the wisest people I know, away from the distractions and dangers of the castle."
Harry wanted to argue more, but he recognized the tone in Dumbledore's voice. It was the same one he used when explaining why Harry couldn't have a real broom yet, or why he had to eat vegetables even though he didn't need much food. The tone that meant no amount of arguing would change his mind.
"Can I at least say goodbye to everyone first?" Harry asked in a small voice.
"Of course. We'll make arrangements over the next few days." Dumbledore smiled softly. "Now, why don't you go get some rest? It's been quite an eventful evening."
Harry slid off the chair, his new books feeling heavy in his pouch. He walked to the office door with slow steps, hoping Dumbledore might change his mind. But when he reached for the handle, all his grandpa said was "Goodnight, Harry."
"Goodnight," Harry mumbled with tears in his eyes, pulling the door open.
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