Chapter Text
The day after he'd told Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape what had happened, Professor Dumbledore pulled him into his office. He told Harry to sit in a chair across from him and offered him a lemon drop. Harry refused and he swore that the headmaster looked... mad for a fraction of a second before returning to his jolly self.
"My dear boy," the headmaster started, Harry already had a bad feeling about this, "I need you to tell me the truth and only the truth. Did you lie to Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape?"
Harry shook his head and avoided looking Dumbledore directly in the eyes. This seemed to frustrate the man.
"You do know that this is a very serious issue you accused Professor Lockhart of, right?"
Harry nodded.
"Then why did you lie? Harry, you cannot lie about things like this. It can ruin someone's life."
Harry didn't respond, but his posture tightened and he pursed his lips.
"I advise that, when the aurors come and question you, you tell the truth and admit you lied. There's no reward in ruining a man's life," Harry was about to speak, but Dumbledore interrupted, "Not a word out of you, young man. That mouth of yours has already caused enough problems. I suggest you keep quiet from now on, who knows who you'll target next.
A pain erupted in Harry's chest, and he felt as if he'd swallowed a ball. Harry wasn't sure what he'd expected from the headmaster, but this had not been it. He thought that the man was supposed to be kind and take his students seriously.
But this didn't feel like that man that gave a speech at the beginning of the year. This didn't feel like that man Harry had first met the previous year. How could someone go from being so kind one day, to being so... so dismissive the next?
"The mind of a young boy, Harry," began Dumbledore, "can confuse things. Are you sure he touched you the way he did? Are you sure he wasn't just being friendly? Did you do something to him? Harry, how can you be so sure? You're too young to know the difference."
"I-" Harry said, finding his voice for a second before once again losing it.
"Don't assume things, Harry," Dumbledore said, "You can't know for sure what happened. I'm sure that Professor Lockhart was just being friendly, you must've mistaken the situation."
Just like that, Harry was dismissed from Dumbledore's office. The whole way to Slytherin's dormitories, Harry was deep in thought.
What if the headmaster was right? What if he had imagined the whole thing? He was young, he perceived things differently. And Uncle Vernon always did this to Harry at home. Had Harry been wrong in assuming it was a bad thing? Had he been so deep in his belief that everything Vernon did was wrong that he mistook the one good thing he did as bad?
Maybe Harry was the bad one. Was he always the bad one? His aunt Petunia always said so.
But Professor McGonagall and Snape had told him that what happened was wrong. Had he exaggerated to the point that even his professors confused what had actually happened? Dear god, had he lied about Gilderoy?
He really was a liar.
He spent the better part of the night going over what Dumbledore had said. His words ringing around Harry's brain, berating him, confusing him. Still, Harry had eventually fallen asleep.
But even in his own dream, he could not escape Dumbledore's words. That day replayed in Harry's dream. Lockhart's hands, the kisses, everything but the moment Snape knocked on the door and stopped what would come next. The replay would stop right before than loop back to when it started.