Sometimes in the middle of writing other stories (I've got two still on the stove) a drabble of an idea pops in your mind and asserts itself. This is one of those...
Albus Dumbledore looked at the clock and sighed. He lay his well-worn copy of The Picture of Dorian Grey on his desk, took off his half-moon glasses, and massaged the bridge of his nose. He waved a ringed finger slightly and The Bohemian Rhapsody faded into silence.
It was Wednesday and it was nearly tea-time, which meant he could be expecting a very dear old-and by old he meant ancient-friend for their weekly ritual. It was a ritual begun shortly after he'd met the man in a London muggle nightclub in 1977.
Albus should have realised that the man was a wizard the night he met him. He had no sense of fashion. It was the late 1970's, but the man dressed like it was still 1968. Still, it had been fun... the teasing and the guessing. Albus smiled to himself wistfully.
Times had changed. The world went dark and many good people had lost their lives. But through it all, they had never missed tea on Wednesdays.
But lately, all his old friend could do was criticise and nag. He recalled their last conversation.
"Albus, you old fool." the old friend had said gently, shaking his head. "You can't seriously expect a teenage boy, his girlfriend, and their goofy sidekick to do this job without the necessary tools do you?"
"It's a need to know mission." Albus had responded defensively.
His friend had snorted, pulled out a long pipe and lit it before responding.
"Need to know? I'd jolly well say they need to know. If you're going to send them after this maniac and his horcruxes you can't just sprinkle some fairy dust and pretend it's all going to work out. The boy needs details. They need to know how to find and destroy the bloody things."
"Wait... You're afraid. That's it, isn't it Albus. You're afraid that if the boy has the tools, that he'll make the same mistakes you did."
His friend had peered at Albus intently and noticed him flushing in shame, then continued.
"He won't, you know! He's not at all like you. He has no desire for immortality, or power, or glory, or fame, or even wealth. None of that matters to him. His only goal is to protect the ones he loves."
"Albus, I know that who you are today is no longer who you were. Trust me on this. The boy can handle it. He needs to know everything. He will make the morally correct decision."
Tears had welled in Albus's eyes as the jumble of emotions had overwhelmed him.
"THAT'S what I'm afraid of." Sniffed Dumbledore.