Author's Note: Same ol' disclaimer. Harry Potter and company aren't mine but I'm using them without permission. If you like this read some of my other stories, esp. "When the Past Comes Back" or "The Coven House."
Trust
By: Erised
Albus Dumbledore awoke to sound of the howling wind sometime between this hour and the next but if asked at what time did the cloaked figure before him had appeared, he would not be able to answer. Yet there stood the man, as unmoving as a statue and commanding the very air to be silent. Dumbledore wondered if the specter had been watching him sleep or had his arrival awoken him. It suddenly didn't matter as a surge of wind caused the figure's cloak to swirl , throwing back the hood and revealing an ivory mask marked by three gold lines down the left eye.
Before Dumbledore was the Dark Prince. Before him stood the angel of Death, the monster that lurked in the shadows and Voldemort's dog of war. Before him stood the son of the morning, Voldemort's most feared Death Eater. Somewhere in that realization, Dumbledore forgot to question how he had entered Hogwarts unseen.
"Do you know who I am?"
Dumbledore was awed by the youthful of his voice and the familiarity of it. He nodded dumbly, reaching to a copy of the Daily Prophet and throwing it at the Prince's feet.
The Prince reached down and picked up the paper. "He who makes the nations tremble." The Prince read softly. "Charming but unlike that Muggle demon, I am real."
"Oh, I doubt that." Dumbledore said slowly. "I doubt there is much to you once I strip away your reputation made by those wild reports and public fear- I doubt your nothing more then a boy with a temper."
The Prince remained silent for a moment. "This boy is your only hope."
Dumbledore frowned.
"Get up, Headmaster." The Prince's movements came quickly and fluidly, as if this had been drilled into his mind like a well rehearsed dance. He pulled his wand and starting a fire, he returned the desk and placed a small vial on it. "Drink this."
"What is it?"
"Life." In another deft movement he had thrown a fine powder into the flame. Floo Powder. "Call the Aurors." Dumbledore hesitated. "Now."
"Alastor Moody." The Headmaster mumbled, finally finding his voice.
The green fire crackled before swaying and parting to allow Moody's head to appear. The Auror's gazed was confused and worried. "Albus? What's going on?"
"I think I need your help."
The Auror's face now registered determination. "I'm on my way Albus."
"Thank you." Dumbledore answered, drinking down the solution from the vial. He stared back at the fireplace, to the corner the Prince had hidden. He had pulled something from his robes and only now did his pose falter.
Dumbledore suddenly understood as he eyed the dagger. "Its laced with poison, isn't it? That thing I drank was the antidote."
The Prince nodded, appearing very much the boy. "Headmaster..."
The act was swift and Albus missed it. He only felt the impact of blade to flesh. He thought he cried out but didn't know for sure.
"...forgive me....please..."
It was the boy's voice again. He had his arms around Albus, guiding him to the floor and cradling his head. Albus was face to face with the mask. He reached up and pushed back a lock of solid black hair from the eyes and suddenly he matched the voice to the face. He whispered his name under his breath.
The Prince nodded. "Headmaster..."
"Why are you helping me?"
The Prince didn't answer. He had suddenly been joined by two other masked shadows. Dumbledore held his breath and tried not to move.
"Someone alerted the teachers!"
"They got York!"
"What do we do, sir?"
"Let's go," The Prince ordered. "Worry about the traitor later."
One after another the two Death Eaters disappeared into the flames. The Prince stepped into the fires and looked back. Their gazes locked.
"Why?" Dumbledore asked but he never heard the answer because the Prince disappeared or the poison had called him into darkness, he never knew which.
Years later, he would traced the thin scar on his side and smiled mysteriously when asked why did he trust Severus Snape.