Disclaimer & Author's Note: J. K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter universe, I'm just inhabiting it for a little while. This is the first time I've ventured into this realm, basically because I'm getting tired of waiting for book five!
Jonathan - this one's for you for lending me the books in the first place!
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Destiny Calling
It was widely suspected that Albus Dumbledore had more than a vague inkling how the battle against Voldemort would finally end, although few dared give voice to such an opinion. Those brave souls who ventured to suggest this were quickly shouted down or dismissed with condescending smiles. People slept easier in their beds if they could believe there was the slightest chance that You-Know-Who would be defeated, even if in fact they held out little hope.
In some ways, however, the assumption was correct. Although he did not know how or when it would occur Dumbledore did know how Voldemort would be defeated, and he knew who would inflict the last devastating blow. And one thing was certain; despite the whispers that foretold otherwise it would not be him who brought an end to all of this. No, his job was simply to ensure that the one who was capable of inflicting that final defeat was equipped with all the weapons necessary to do so, not only the most powerful magic known to exist but also simply the courage to see it through. When the last battle against evil commenced, wherever or whenever it happened, the boy would be ready. Of that Dumbledore had no doubt; it was his destiny.
Knowing of and preparing for the end was not an easy task, but only once had Dumbledore wished he could pretend it was not his; only once had he been distracted from the ultimate goal by knowledge of the pain its achievement would cause.
He had waited with a heavy heart for their arrival at Hogwarts, and as he had watched the Sorting Hat being placed on their heads had seen their futures laid out before him with heartbreaking clarity. Yes, victory would come through them, but at a terrible price. He had already known then that neither would survive to enjoy the rewards of the peaceful land that triumph would bring.
Separately, both had been good students, equally capable of performing even the trickiest of spells without breaking sweat. For him, it had been instinctive - he was gifted in the way that only those from one of the most powerful wizard families could be. She, being muggle-born, had worked harder to achieve her full potential, supplementing her natural ability with all that she could learn from textbooks. It did not matter; their different backgrounds had made no difference to the sweet pureness of the spells they performed when fate brought them into contact.
The only way to describe it was to say that together, they were truly magical.
Dumbledore had known they would be, of course. Indeed, knowing what was going to happen before they themselves did, it had been a far greater shock to them than to him when friendship had suddenly blossomed into more. From a hesitant beginning, a relationship that was doomed from the start grew ever stronger with each passing day, until an unbreakable bond had been forged between them; a deeper understanding that would ultimately lead to their deaths.
While everyone else had celebrated their marriage, Dumbledore had stood alone on the edge of the crowd, despairing of a love that was too pure for such a cruel world as this. And when their son had arrived safely into the world, a healthy baby who had kicked and screamed when the elderly Professor had picked him up, he had felt both joy and sadness. Although relieved that the child who would grow to vanquish Voldemort was here at last, the boy's birth had sealed his parents' fate. Now, too soon, their time on earth must come to a close.
From the beginning Dumbledore had known in his heart that it was foolish to wish for a different outcome, but even with that knowledge he had not been able to stop himself from hoping it would not be so. With the best will in the world he had not been able to resist making at least one attempt to meddle with fate. His chance had come when the two were warned to flee because Voldemort had turned his evil gaze in their direction, and he had seized it eagerly but to no avail.
Time and again he had begged them not to trust anyone other than himself with news of their whereabouts. However, wholly unaware that destiny had already decided their futures, the proud new parents had been unmoved by his efforts to convince them of the danger ahead and had chosen their Secret Keeper just as fate had decreed they would.
On one black night death had claimed them for its own; an unmerciful end at the hands of evil their prize for bringing forth the child who gave all others hope. Dumbledore was forced to accept then that he could not change what an unseen hand had already written in the Book of Life. What must be, must be.
At last, he understood; James and Lily had to die so that Harry could triumph and all could live in peace. It was cruel and it was unkind, but it was also inevitable. Only one touched by pain and suffering would have the courage to face pure evil; only one whose own life had been destroyed by Voldemort would be able to end his. Fate had brought Lily and James together for a reason and in the end it had torn them apart. It was the only way that one day the Boy Who Lived would be able to save them all.
And when he did, it would be under the watchful eye of Albus Dumbledore.
Jonathan - this one's for you for lending me the books in the first place!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Destiny Calling
It was widely suspected that Albus Dumbledore had more than a vague inkling how the battle against Voldemort would finally end, although few dared give voice to such an opinion. Those brave souls who ventured to suggest this were quickly shouted down or dismissed with condescending smiles. People slept easier in their beds if they could believe there was the slightest chance that You-Know-Who would be defeated, even if in fact they held out little hope.
In some ways, however, the assumption was correct. Although he did not know how or when it would occur Dumbledore did know how Voldemort would be defeated, and he knew who would inflict the last devastating blow. And one thing was certain; despite the whispers that foretold otherwise it would not be him who brought an end to all of this. No, his job was simply to ensure that the one who was capable of inflicting that final defeat was equipped with all the weapons necessary to do so, not only the most powerful magic known to exist but also simply the courage to see it through. When the last battle against evil commenced, wherever or whenever it happened, the boy would be ready. Of that Dumbledore had no doubt; it was his destiny.
Knowing of and preparing for the end was not an easy task, but only once had Dumbledore wished he could pretend it was not his; only once had he been distracted from the ultimate goal by knowledge of the pain its achievement would cause.
He had waited with a heavy heart for their arrival at Hogwarts, and as he had watched the Sorting Hat being placed on their heads had seen their futures laid out before him with heartbreaking clarity. Yes, victory would come through them, but at a terrible price. He had already known then that neither would survive to enjoy the rewards of the peaceful land that triumph would bring.
Separately, both had been good students, equally capable of performing even the trickiest of spells without breaking sweat. For him, it had been instinctive - he was gifted in the way that only those from one of the most powerful wizard families could be. She, being muggle-born, had worked harder to achieve her full potential, supplementing her natural ability with all that she could learn from textbooks. It did not matter; their different backgrounds had made no difference to the sweet pureness of the spells they performed when fate brought them into contact.
The only way to describe it was to say that together, they were truly magical.
Dumbledore had known they would be, of course. Indeed, knowing what was going to happen before they themselves did, it had been a far greater shock to them than to him when friendship had suddenly blossomed into more. From a hesitant beginning, a relationship that was doomed from the start grew ever stronger with each passing day, until an unbreakable bond had been forged between them; a deeper understanding that would ultimately lead to their deaths.
While everyone else had celebrated their marriage, Dumbledore had stood alone on the edge of the crowd, despairing of a love that was too pure for such a cruel world as this. And when their son had arrived safely into the world, a healthy baby who had kicked and screamed when the elderly Professor had picked him up, he had felt both joy and sadness. Although relieved that the child who would grow to vanquish Voldemort was here at last, the boy's birth had sealed his parents' fate. Now, too soon, their time on earth must come to a close.
From the beginning Dumbledore had known in his heart that it was foolish to wish for a different outcome, but even with that knowledge he had not been able to stop himself from hoping it would not be so. With the best will in the world he had not been able to resist making at least one attempt to meddle with fate. His chance had come when the two were warned to flee because Voldemort had turned his evil gaze in their direction, and he had seized it eagerly but to no avail.
Time and again he had begged them not to trust anyone other than himself with news of their whereabouts. However, wholly unaware that destiny had already decided their futures, the proud new parents had been unmoved by his efforts to convince them of the danger ahead and had chosen their Secret Keeper just as fate had decreed they would.
On one black night death had claimed them for its own; an unmerciful end at the hands of evil their prize for bringing forth the child who gave all others hope. Dumbledore was forced to accept then that he could not change what an unseen hand had already written in the Book of Life. What must be, must be.
At last, he understood; James and Lily had to die so that Harry could triumph and all could live in peace. It was cruel and it was unkind, but it was also inevitable. Only one touched by pain and suffering would have the courage to face pure evil; only one whose own life had been destroyed by Voldemort would be able to end his. Fate had brought Lily and James together for a reason and in the end it had torn them apart. It was the only way that one day the Boy Who Lived would be able to save them all.
And when he did, it would be under the watchful eye of Albus Dumbledore.