Treason Chapter 1: Responsibility, a harry potter fanfic

Treason 1
Author's Note: I had always wanted to write an Albus Dumbledore story with Minerva McGonagall in it --- for lack of a more precise and impartial way of explaining that --- sometime or another...I just really didn't think it'd be this one. The setting is a theoretical scenario, in which Voldemort's Dark Wizards finally declared open war on the Ministry of Magic, occuring three or four years after what would be (=P) Harry Potter's seventh year. In other words, don't take my work for anything canon, but you know that. Warning beforehand, and that is that although I didn't put Albus as evil or anything (you wish! I'm not that crazy!), the story elements will probably be scary, in a way or another. Some to most characters will probably be Out of Character. Nevertheless, I write this for your pleasant to semi-pleasant reading pleasure.

And yes, I've watched the original Mobile Suit Gundam series lately, so its humanistic and grim outlook on wars probably had more than a passing influence on this story.

But now I'm ranting, so…

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related names and places belong to Joanne Kathleen Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing and Raincoast Books. But you know that already. Right? The quotes below are written by William Shakespeare in 'Henry V'.

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All other devils that suggest by treasons
Do botch and bungle up damnation
With patches, colors, and with forms being fetch'd
From glistening semblances of piety;
But he that temper'd thee bade thee stand up,
Gave thee no instance why thou shouldst do treason,
Unless to dub thee with the name of traitor.

-'Henry V', Act II, Scene II

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Part 1: Responsibility

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Albus,

It's been quite awhile, old friend. I hope that this Owl Post reaches you and the Ministry safely; those blasted Death Eaters have this city entirely surrounded and fortified now. Under the houses belonging to one of the Voltaire Resistance I'm writing this --- using a Muggle's so-called 'typewriter', no less --- to let you know how things have been in Paris, and even now I'm in danger of being caught or betrayed.

I really can't believe that it's only been a month since Beauxbatons and France fell, and already the streets have become alleyways of no return. Death Eaters and Dementors patrol those streets when curfew is past so nobody who's self-respecting of their life dares venture out, and during the daytime very few people, much less Muggles, even leave their houses anyway. It's no use trying to keep the Muggle outbreak controlled, now; the Voltaire Resistance is fighting for their lives themselves, although their guerrilla tactics are by far holding them off. Voldemort seems to have taken almost a liberty here, letting the Muggles cower in fear, weeding out what remained of us with his troops. Maybe he thinks he's finally won, and I think the Muggles here, even some of the Voltaire Resistance, are agreeing with that.

I feel sorry for Beauxbatons, myself. Maybe we should name it Mortebatons now. A month ago, it seems even we underestimated the brutal strength of the Death Eaters' Dark Eclipse Squadron, and we've definately underestimated Lucius during that battle. That Lucius...who'd have thought he'd be this powerful now? He's certainly at my level now, if he hadn't exceeded it already. All he had to do was kill Colonel Maxine and the Beauxbatons defence lines just crumbled...the Dark Eclipse pretty much washed the school with blood afterwards. It's now a base for the Dark Eclipse and all sorts of monsters there now, and not even the Voltaire Resistance talks about it anymore. Especially Fleur...General Delacour, now. Whenever Beauxbatons was mention she'd remember those who fell with vivid sadness and grief, and I can't blame her for remembering. I dread to imagine the pain anybody caught by the Dark Eclipse went through before sweet death came to them.

The Voltaire Resistance informed me that the Death Eaters have finally amassed a force thousands strong at Calais, so we can presume that Hogwarts is next. Durmstrang, to the north, is holding their lines so far, but Estobalan in Spain is slowly falling back, and with each day, Voldemort is sending more troops to Calais. Since the Voltaire Resistance seems to be sure that the Dark Eclipse is being deployed there as well, I can grimly assume, although I wish it is not so, that Hogwarts is his next and perhaps final target in Europe. Please inform Minister Fudge to be on his guard, Albus. The Dark Eclipse was exceptionally skilled in surprise attacks and we cannot afford to make the same mistake again after having done so twice. It's relieving that the Ministry has deployed Captain Potter and the White Bishops there already...that boy Harry would never let Lucius go now, considering what he had done to Ron and Ginny Weasley just three months back. I just hope that it'd be enough until the Voltaire Resistance could make some significant progress to disrupt Voldemort's rear lines...it took the Ministry half a year to push the Dark Wizards out of England and we certainly don't want them to set foot on it again.

On a last note, how is Minerva recovering? I truly hope that under Poppy's care she is making progress...I know how dear she is to you, Albus, so for our sakes I hope she wakes up. But I'm sure not even Voldemort can destroy her spirit, despite what happened, so I know that she will someday.

I had better leave now, before I become the bearer of more bad news. Curse my dumb luck, eh, old friend?

Pleasant journeys,

Remus

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"Give me the pendant and out of my way!"

"No! Don't give it up!"

"You have no choice. Do it!"

"Professor Dumbledore, never give the pendant up!"

"Now!"

"Professor..."

"I will let you live despite your failure, Dumbledore, for my greatest joy right now is of knowing that I had defeated you. I no longer fear you now, for you are indeed plagued by emotions and I can defeat you with them. Run, Dumbledore! When I unite the world, both you and Potter will come and beg me for death! Run and live for now, but not without pain, not without a reminder that I exist! And she shall be that reminder!"

"Stop!"

"Crucio!!!"

"No! Tom---Voldemort...You have what you came here for! Don't hurt her anymore!!!"

* * *

Albus Dumbledore let Remus' old letter from a month and a half back, and his memories of that dreadful day, fall onto the stone ground and thought only one thing as he waited to face his fate: It was all my fault the war is this way, old friend. I'm sorry.

And pretty much everyone else knew that it was.

Albus used to be impressive, but now he was merely a tired old man. His long, flowing beard was now messy, his eyes weary, and his skin pale with lack of energy, but despite that he still managed to hold himself up, pacing around in feigned strength. He could not show any more weakness, Albus knew, not now, not in the Ministry of Magic as he waited for his absolution. Albus had shown weakness but once, consciously, and it put the world in even more danger. He was never that strong before in his age, but somehow he always managed to look the part. Now, he had to be stronger than even that now for those left to him. But it was ludicrous, as the times were no longer Albus'; how could Albus be strong for those left to him if those left to him won't accept him anymore?

It was his fault the war was going badly.

Turning again to the wall opposite the Minister's office, Albus returned to the sight of an appalling list. On that list, titled Memoria Ii Witts --- 'I Will Remember' in the ancient arcane tongue --- was a list of names. They were the names of those who died in both past and present, fighting and surviving against Voldemort, Muggle or anything in the name of the wizarding world. Many of those had only been recently added to the list. Albus scanned the list for each and every single name he remembered and had known to have had bright potential ahead of them had it not been for the war, and with each name he found, Albus felt grief and pity for those names who died, and guilt for himself for letting them end this way.

Katie Bell. Captured by the Dark Eclipse during the fateful battle defending Beauxbatons, and had been lost ever since. Sirius Black. Caught spying in Stockholm and killed in the crossfire that followed as the Dark Wizards attempted to capture him. Cho Chang. Shot down by Dark Wizards of the Green Skulls during a courier flight to Calais, her body lost in the waters of the English Channel. Colin Creevey. Perished in the arson fire that burned down the Southampton Outpost. Angelina Johnson. Killed by a stray wizard's curse in the battlefields of the Wales Campaign. Remus Lupin. Caught by a magical step mine and blown up assisting the Voltaire Resistance during a mission to sabotage a supply caravan. Draco Malfoy. The son of Dark Eclipse leader Lucius Malfoy, personally slain by his father when he refused to join Voldemort's ranks. Pansy Parkinson. Was slain alongside Draco as she desperately tried to fight Lucius with him, but ended up dying first by shielding Draco from a volley of Dark Curses. Severus Snape. Was trapped in the Cumberland Base during a Dark Wizard attack in the Wales Campaign, and had committed suicide --- by painless poison, no less --- when the base was overrun. Charles, Percival, Ronald, Virginia and William Weasley. Of families who had lost children to the war, none could compare to the sheer loss that the Weasleys alone had suffered. Bill and Charlie were killed in action along with Katie Bell and many others in Beauxbatons; Percy was assassinated by a Dark Wizard from within the Ministry itself. As for Ron and Ginny, both had died bravely protecting Commander Harry Potter from Lucius Malfoy when they fought each other in Luxembourg.

Brave wizards, all, and would've been superbly bright had the war not taken them away from the world. It was all Albus' fault it was such, because he willingly gave up something he never should have.

His eyes forced himself to look at the list over and over, half as a reminder of the consequences, and half to look for the name that wasn't on there yet, but that Albus knew should have had she been unlucky. Tears began to stung his eyes in memory as he remembered her fate in the war and didn't know if it was a blessing or a curse. She was still alive, but still faraway from the world that Albus and those who survived was in, and Albus missed her dearly for thought that if she was here with him now, she would know definately what to feel.

Minerva McGonagall.

In a way it could also be her fault that all this was happening, but Albus and everyone knew that she was only a victim in the war, who, like most others, had been lost obscurely in the war. Only Albus and a handful of friends knew what had befallen her in detail, but only Albus alone knew exactly what had transpired. What Voldemort put her through. What Albus had willingly done that had brought this upon her and the entire world, wizard or not.

"Professor Dumbledore, never give the pendant up! Leave me here and go! With the pendant---"

"Quiet! I will not ask you again, Dumbledore. The Aegis Pendant. Now!"

Albus knew that it was the right thing not to give the Aegis Pendant, the powerful relic of the most powerful Protection Wizard ever to walk the Earth, to Voldemort. Cornelius Fudge had given the pendant to Albus to guard out of trust --- Fudge had personally told Albus that should even Harry Potter, considered by all that was left alive to be the best bastion of hope left, be himself slain, the Aegis Pendant and its own safety may be the Ministry's only hope to win the war outright. The Ministry strictly ordered him not to give it up. The wizarding world felt safe with the pendant with him. Everyone trusted him not to give in to Voldemort, and Albus betrayed that trust by giving in to Voldemort. He had betrayed the Ministry, he had betrayed the wizarding world. And when it was too late, he finally realized that he had betrayed Minerva, as well, by giving away what she was willing to give her life to protect.

Voldemort's gloat of victory still audibly haunted him. Albus should've taken the pendant away, and use it to fight Voldemort. But he didn't, and now the world, most unable to harm Voldemort with the Aegis Pendant in his hands save possibly Harry Potter himself, was now in danger. Within only a few feet to the man who would judge him, Albus knew that he was deserving of that punishment. And worse. He should've died in Minerva's place, instead of letting her suffer.

The large, red-steeled and magically protected doors in front of Albus finally opened and Alicia Spinnet --- once a Hogwarts student under Dumbledore's jurisdiction, now Minister Fudge's personal guard wizard --- stood at the doorway and looked at Albus with half-sympathetic eyes. Albus sighed, surprised. Many had already blamed him for betraying the Ministry's trust; Why shouldn't Alicia? She had lost her own husband to the Dark Eclipse at Beauxbatons, also because of his own fault, and the loss of her beloved was only one more in many to point her finger at Albus now...but Alicia didn't. Some others didn't as well, but even with their voices, Albus and most knew better.

All his past life, his experiences, his merits, his past respect as the Headmaster of Hogwarts and the once-nemesis of Voldemort, was gone forever, bringing in their place hatred and the need to blame someone else, save Voldemort, for their imminent dangers --- and if Minerva was awake, she would most likely blame him for her fate, as well. Albus was deservedly that target board.

"Minister Fudge will see you now, Professor Dumbledore." Alicia beckoned, her voice soft and sad, but forcedly firm, apparently needing to remind herself of her own supposed impartiality as the Minister's personal guard wizard. Albus nodded sadly.

"Alright, then." Albus merely whispered. "Thank you, Alicia."

I'm really sorry, Minerva.

Forcing his tired form through the doors, Albus followed Alicia into the doors and steeled himself one last time for what he knew was to be his absolution, and punishment. The office doors closed heavily behind him with a booming sound that would, eventually, signal the end of the master wizard known as Albus Dumbledore...

To finally leave behind him a tired, old man with blood on his hands.

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