Disclaimer : Never had, never will own them. I make so money off this.
Summary : I just finished OoTP again and I was wondering if perhaps Albus did not tell Harry everything after he left his office at the end of the book. Here's my take on why Dumbledore withheld the information in the prophecy.
To Be A Father :
Albus Dumbledore watched as Harry exited his office, looking far to much like another boy with the same untidy black hair for Albus's comfort.
He had told Harry more then he would have liked but not everything. What he had told the boy was true, he wanted to protect him for as long as he could, to give him as normal a life as he could under these conditions Yet the real reason that he had withheld the information from Harry for so long was that he did not know if he could handle the loss of another so dear to him.
Albus Dumbledore was a man viewed by many as one of the most powerful wizards ever to live. A man known for his kindness and generosity but also for his ability to handle difficulty situations with a level head, always in control, the one constant. But he was not that man now. Talking to Harry had taken more out of him then he cared to admit.
It was true what everyone said, Harry was the spitting image of his father. Albus had looked upon this has a blessing and a curse. The boy had his mother's eyes but everything else about him was his father.
Memories of Harry's childhood and James's flashed through the elderly wizards mind, they were both so different and yet so alike at the same time. Closing his eyes tightly and covering his face with his hand, Dumbledore tried to keep the tears that threatened to fall at bay.
Opening the top draw of his desk with his other hand he picked up the single picture contained within and looked at the smiling people in it.
A witch and wizard sat together on a blanket in the middle of a park on what looked like a bright summer day near a lake watching a young boy run around chasing a kite. The couple smiled dotingly at their son, clearly enjoying their rare family moment. Times like these had become few and far between as Tom Riddle's power had begun to grow and darkness again entered the wizarding world.
Dumbledore sighed, the day had been as pleasant as the picture made it out to be. His little family had spent time together before his son began school and the family was again forced to act as though they were not related. His son would take a different surname as would his wife. None of them were pleased but they had accepted it, after all, the consequences would have been to great for anyone to know the truth.
Dumbledore felt a pain near his heart when he thought that Harry and James had never had such an opportunity. Indeed, Harry and no happy memories of his aunt and uncle taking him anywhere or showing him the affection a child needs. Albus cursed himself for allowing the boy to grow up as he did.
Despite the way in which he was raised, Harry had turned out extremely well and that did please the older wizard. Yet he could not stop the feelings of guilt and betrayal that plagued him. He had promised James that the boy would have a good life, that he would not grow up knowing such evil, that the Order was there to stop Voldemort.
Dumbledore knew that his one weakness was love, for it made him naive in some respects, blinding him, making him want to protect those so dear to him regardless of whether it was sensible or not.
He had admitted as much to Harry tonight. Dumbledore knew he should have told him of the prophecy before but just as he did not speak of the prophecy to James, he did not to Harry, believing that he could sort out the problem. Believing that he could protect them.
Glancing at the photo again he saw the child run over to him and through his arms around Dumbledore's neck.
Unbidden, the tears he had been trying so desperately to restrain flowed down his cheeks.
Dumbledore felt a hand on his shoulder but did not turn to see who it was as he knew.
"That was a good day," his wife spoke from behind him, gently massaging his neck with her hands.
"Yes it was," he managed to say, wiping the tears from his face.
"They are so alike," she mused, sounding as if her mind was in another time. "You did the right thing by telling, Harry, Albus. The boy is strong, he can handle it in time."
"But there is so little time. If-" but she stopped him at that moment, coming around to stand in front of him and placed her finger on his lips to stem the flow of words.
"You can only protect him for so long, Albus. James was correct, you cannot fix everything. Let us in, let us help you. I see what this burden does to you and it frightens me, " she moved her hand to cress his face for a moment, looking into those blue depths.
"I know you wish to protect Harry, to save him but he is not his father. You must not continue to blame yourself for James's death. You did what you could, you must look to the future now, not the past. You are not the only one that misses him, he was my son as well but you cannot allow the pain of his death to cloud you're judgment."
"I know, Minerva, thank you. I'm afraid I forget how to think objectively when it comes to them," then he gave a small smile, "or you."
She rested her forehead against his for a few moments before standing up. "I need to return, I'll see you later."
Dumbledore nodded, a weight seeming to have lifted with his wife's words.
Her hand was almost on the doorknob when his voice called out softly, "I love you."
"I love you, too," she whispered before pulling the large wooden door closed behind her.
Taking on last look at the picture Dumbledore pulled it to his heart and, closing his eyes he promised, "I will protect him James, as I was not able to do for you. I love you my son." And with that he put the picture back in the draw.
The End
A/N : Did you like it? Did you hate it? Please review!