Disclaimer: All rights go to JK Rowling.
There were many moments when the burden of leadership fell heavier than usual on the shoulders of Albus Dumbledore.
He dealt with running the largest and most prominent Magical School on the British Isles, which meant micromanaging budgets under the frankly irritating Malfoy - Controlled Board of Governors, maintaining the wards doming the castle and grounds, stay updated on the current discoveries and current happenings in the magical world to keep school education up to date and safe, which also included tiptoeing around Pureblood Laws and push through the Wizengamot (courtesy of Mr. Malfoy) to legally confiscate Dark Artifacts the majority of the Slytherins and a scattering of other houses insisted on trying to smuggle into Hogwarts.
Banned items were sent to the D.M.L.E as required, he worked for the government for Merlin's sake! Yes, because he didn't want a third year Slytherin to receive a book on how to conjure Fiendfyre, he was obviously on a mission to censor Magical Education. One of his personal favorites was a rumor he knew traced back to Nott Sr, was the idea that he was gradually allowing Hogwarts curriculum quality to lax.
These days he sometimes felt that he needed three of himself to keep up with being Headmaster, (Again, Malfoy and his ilk.) Chief Warlock to the Wizengamot, his most hated position. He'd never wanted to go into politics, but when Tom's followers started to push their pureblood agenda, he had taken the position to oppose them. He had also been practically shoved into being Britain's representative to the I.C.W, post World War Two.
He was far too tied up by loose ends. Wealthy Death Eaters were walking free, even during this night. They had all pleaded the Imperius and he should've made his move then. With the whole of Britian celebrating, security had fallen. Diggle and his fireworks, for instance.
Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew where unaccounted for. Severus Snape was a double agent, but a snake with a lion's soul. Things would've been much worse without his help. The McKinnons, the Bones, and the Prewetts were all extinct in the male line. The Order of the Phoenix was still on high alert, along with the Aurors.
How had he missed the signs? What did he miss? Where had he gone wrong with Tom Riddle, now known as Lord Voldemort?
Those thoughts soon drifted back to his own misguided youth. How he had lost sight of the things that were really important? Those mistakes had lead to a wizarding world war. It covered nearly all of Europe. Gellert's reign was near its peak during Poland and the Blitzkrieg.
The truth was he was afraid of Gellert. The last time they had fought, his sister Ariana had lost her life. Himself and his brother couldn't even defeat his friend when it was two against one. He hadn't even had the Elder Wand then.
It was his fault.
If he had been paying more attention to his sister, instead of being off with Elphias….She wouldn't…They wouldn't…
Dear, sweet Ariana was never the same again. Her magic turned her inward, drove her mad, and exploded out of her when she couldn't control it. She became an Obscurial. When Gellert found out, he was eager to harness her, to use her as a weapon. It was then that the blinders finally fell.
The three-way duel was intense. Neither he or Aberforth knew what had killed her. The blast, the shrapnel, or the quick death of the Killing Curse. It had taken him too long to mentally ready himself to face his friend. He had to come to terms with his sister's death, not let it consume him and move on with his life.
The War had drained him, Tom's revolution even more so. He was a tired old man with responsibilities he never wanted. Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Maybe it didn't apply to all humanity, but it was definitely true for him. Perhaps better men were out there, but such men were rare.
He had recently acquired a mirror known as the Mirror of Erised. Looking into it, he had seen what he had expected. His family alive, well, and together. He had tried to mend things with his brother Aberforth, but work, being punched in the nose and having the door to the Hog's Head slammed in his face made things difficult.
Rummaging around in his cloak, he brought out his Deluminator. Clicking it twelve times, all the lights were now out. He felt, more than saw, a familiar presence.
"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."
"How did you know it was me?" McGonagall asked.
He smiled to himself. "My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."
"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day." McGonagall said briskly.
"All day? When you could've been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on the way here." His brother had a full bar for one.
"Oh, yes. Everyone's celebrating, all right. You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no – even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head towards the Dursley's dark living room windows. "Flocks of owls, shooting stars down in Kent. I'd bet that was Dedalus Diggle, he never did have much sense."
"You can't blame them." He thought back to the fallen. "We have had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."
"I know that, but that's no excuse to lose our common sense. People are being downright careless, out in the streets in broad daylight, not even wearing Muggle clothes, swapping rumors. A fine thing, if the day You – Know – Who seems to have been disappeared at last, the muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"
"It certainly seems so. We have much to be thankful for. Lemon drop?" I asked.
"A what?" I didn't know what it was but some people just didn't like Lemon Drops.
"A kind of muggle sweet I am rather fond of." I answered.
"No, thank you. As I say, even if You – Know – Who really has gone – ."
"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this You – Know - Who nonsense, for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name, Voldemort." I rustled through the pockets of my robes.
Ah, there they were.
"It gets all so confusing if we keep saying, You – Know – Who. I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."
"I know you haven't. You're different. Everyone knows you are the only one You – Know – oh, all right, Voldemort was frightened of." McGonagall said.
"You flatter me. Voldemort has powers I will never have."
"Only because you're too – well – noble to use them."
"No, I know the cost of such power."
"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madame Pomfrey told me she like my new earmuffs."
"You know what everyone's saying? About what finally stopped him?" McGonagall asked.
I kept from sighing. The reason why we were here tonight. I popped a Lemon Drop into my mouth.
"What they are saying is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are…are…that they're…dead."
I bowed my head. "Another child orphaned."
McGonagall gasped. "Lily and James…I can't believe it…I didn't want to believe it…. Albus…"
McGonagall shivered. "That's not all, they're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But – he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke and that's why he's gone. Of all the things to stop him, but how did Harry survive?"
"We may never know." I said. "A life for a life." Powerful and ancient magic was at work. Love and death were intertwined that night. I absentmindedly looked at my watch. "Hagrid's late. I suppose he told you I would be here?" Hagrid had a flaw of letting things slip, but he was loyal. Loyalty was hard to come by in dark times.
"Yes. I don't suppose why you are here of all places?" McGonagall asked.
"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle, they are the only family he has left now." The words were ashes in his mouth. The will was very clear, under no circumstances was Harry to be left with Lily's sister. However, Sirius was elsewhere and Lupin had a problem that would make him unfit to be a father. Not to mention Lupin held so much bitterness towards himself for his unfortunate life circumstances.
"You don't mean…you can't mean the people that live here?" McGonagall pointed down towards number four. "Dumbledore…you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find people that were less like us. And they've got this son…I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets! And the husband…calling him a pig would be an insult to pigs! Harry Potter come and live here!"
"It's the best place for him." "There was no other choice." "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything when he is older. I've written them a letter."
McGonagall sat down on the wall, as if in a state of shock. It had been a very trying few years. "A letter?" She repeated. "You think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never be able to understand him! He will be famous…a legend…I wouldn't be surprised if this was known as Harry Potter Day in the future. People have been talking about him like he's the next Merlin. Books will be written about him, every child in our world will know his name."
I sighed. "Exactly. It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he could walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can't you see how better off he would be growing up away from all that, until he's ready to take it?"
McGonagall looked like she wanted to argue back. "Yes…Yes, you're right of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?"
"Hagrid's bringing him." I answered.
"You think it wise to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"
"I would trust Hagrid with my life." I answered.
"His heart is in the right place, but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to…what was that?"
I heard a low rumbling sound that soon built up to a roar. Black's motorcycle was impossible to miss with how loud it was. I looked up. Hagrid descended riding Black's motorcycle.
"Hagrid. At last. No problems, I trust?" The half-giant towered over him by a couple feet, but he really was a gentle giant. Just had a skewed sense of danger.
"No, sir. House was almost destroyed, but I got him out before the muggles started swarmin' around. Fell asleep as we were flyin' over Bristol." Hagrid told him.
Black had just lost his best friend and was probably grieving for that loss. I looked within the bundle of blankets. A baby boy lay fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair, I could see a lightning bolt scar.
Sowilo, the sun rune governing victory and success through individual willpower. Or was it Eihwaz, liberation from the fear of death? Representing the boy's victory over death that night.
"Is that where - ?" McGonagall whispered.
"Yes. He'll have that scar forever."
"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"
"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a prefect map of the London underground. Well – give him here, Hagrid - we'd best get this over with."
I took Harry from Hagrid and turned towards Number Four. "Could I say goodbye to him, sir?" Hagrid asked. Then he began crying like a wounded dog.
"Shhh! You'll wake the muggle's!" McGonagall said.
"S – Sorry." Hagrid sobbed, burying his face in a large spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "I – I just c – c - can't stand it – Lily an James dead – an poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles – " McGonagall patted Hagrid on the back.
I laid Harry gently down on Number Four's doorstep. The Elder Wand was reacting to the close proximity of one of Peverell's blood, giving off a faint warmth in his robes. Placing a letter in Harry's blankets, I returned to the others. "Well that's that. We have no other business here. We may as well go join the celebrations." The last word tasted like ashes. A taste I was all too familiar with.
"Yeah." Hagrid said in a very muffled voice. "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night Professor McGonagall – Professor Dumbledore, sir."
Wiping his eyes on a jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life, with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night sky. "I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall."
McGonagall blew her nose in reply. Walking back down the street, I turned and clicked the Put-Outer. Twelve balls of light raced back to the streetlamps. I glanced back at Number Four, at the bundle of blankets and the baby I had left there.
"Good luck, Harry Potter." With a swish of my cloak, I apparated back to Hogwarts. Fawkes gave a welcoming croon as soon as he saw me. "It's been a very trying night, old friend." Fawkes cooed softly. I sat down, barely regarding the paperwork explosion on my desk.
For the first time in decades, he didn't know what to do or if his actions where the right ones.
