Across several pages spanned a letter, the handwriting clearly belonging to but one man. At first glance, one would assume it was freshly written, the crisp lettering appearing as though the quill had just left the paper. Certainly the author wanted it hidden, and yet preserved. It would be after the events had already transpired that someone would read it, and by then he could safely divulge whatever it is the author had wanted. His story? He wrote it.

To my esteemed reader,

Naturally, you should be commended for finding this letter, as I had intended it not to be found for quite some time-but then: perhaps much time has passed already? I know many things will have happened once this is read, and I think it is only safe to assume that I can divulge that which has occupied my mind for the better part of a century. I am not aiming to gain personal glory, recognition, or scorn from my reader, merely grant them knowledge-as a reward for locating this piece. I will highlight specific areas, dealing with both my life and downfall of Lord Voldemort; though I fear this may be a bit lengthy I'd suggest clearing your schedule for a little bit of time.

Now then, with my death I have no doubts there will be at least one publications highlighting my life, and one that will condemn it. I have lived a life of...anger and hatred-remorse and sadness. My thoughts have long since been plagued with a specific event, two key characters that influenced my life from one day. The slander you will read, no doubt, will appear quite accurate; but what is accuracy without the source itself?

I attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry just like many of you. But I came into school knowing much already, not unlike Miss Hermione Granger these past few years-a bright, enthusiastic individual, yet looked down in some manners due to upbringing; Muggles for her, a Muggle-hater for me. We both, however, persevered and won the respect of our Houses-the only true thing that matters in school save the grades themselves. After exiting Hogwarts I met the most wonderful man-one that would forever change my life.

His name was Gellert Grindelwald-a fascinating young man (younger than myself, in fact, by two years) who had as much intellect and skill as I; though I believe myself to be a shade more skillful. We got off perfectly and for the next two months I would be the happiest person on all of Earth. Yet, one day everything came crashing down. Everything I knew and loved: would be separated-I would become far more spited by those I loved than anyone should have to.

I cancelled my plans to travel Europe with a dear friend, Elphias Doge, to pursue a meaningful campaign with Gellert. We were going to liberate the Wizarding World, and assert dominance over the Muggles-I believed at the time it was what's best for them. They needed someone to depend on, their world was chaotic! Rebels from England formed their own country (with the help of Wizards, I suspect!) and since then several wars! The Muggles needed someone to rule over them, a people far wiser than they. Then, and only then, my dearest sister could live in a world that didn't shun her-it was for her I did all of this.

My dearest sister was never right after what those Muggle boys did to her. I tried to dissuade my father against doing anything...but he saw otherwise. He killed them...and I think that was what motivated Gellert into action-seeing how easily they could be destroyed, it sparked an idea. A revolution! But it wasn't for glory...it was for my sister, her well being.

As Gellert and I were preparing to take off, he got into an argument with my younger brother, Aberforth, which led to the former using the Cruciatus Curse upon the former. I could not stand to see my brother being hurt, especially not in that manner! So I drew my wand upon Gellert-the man I had grown to love-but it was as he always said: 'For The Greater Good'. All three of us dueled...it was a nasty, bitter thing. The end result: my sister fell to the dirty ground, and Gellert fled, afraid of being persecuted (as he had quite an extensive criminal record thus-far.)

At the funeral my brother gave me a gift: a realization in the form of a brutal punch to my nose, breaking it in two places. (He would later go on to hit me again, nearly the same location). From here we parted ways, physically. I always sent him letters, trying to keep in touch. Some years later, I found, he bought a piece of land and built his pub-the Hog's Head. This location would serve me an immense amount in the events to come.

After many years of teaching Transfiguration at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I was approached by the headmaster, Armando Dippet, about what to do concerning Tom Riddle-he wanted to join our staff as the Defense Against the Dark Arts-the headmaster didn't want to oblige his request due to his age, I advised against it entirely however; I didn't want the latter gaining any sort of power within the school...his ambitions were so dark; reminiscent of Grindelwald.

During Tom's school days, he displayed an unfailing kindness and charm-one that seemed to make every teacher 'bow down' to his feet. I wasn't fooled, I knew he was up to something. Rumours had spread about his murdering of several people, even while he was in school! I'd have hate to believe it. But as we've come to find out: such rumours were probably actual truth. It's saddening-to watch someone with that much promise fall into the clutches of darkness; he was too much like Gellert.

After decades of teaching, well into the Muggle's World War (which, I believe, Grindelwald had influenced, the Muggle Adolf Hitler was far too organised to be acting alone or without guidance of some sort) I had no choice: I had to confront the Dark Wizard. I will admit I prolonged the confrontation...I did it out of fear. Fear that he knew who actually killed my sister all those years ago-and to know it was me...me who cast the curse that killed her! It'd be devastating.

We faced one another-akin to our three-way duel (minus Aberforth this time)-a great sadness pained me as I saw the man I had cared for so much, only to be used and manipulated. My fury had grown considerably, but I had quickly suppressed it. Anger clouds and for a duel of wizards at this calibre: there was no room for not being completely focused. Grindelwald was, of course, a very powerful wizard prior to his defeat...how I admire it.

After an intense, four hour duel the deed was done. I had defeated Gellert, seized his wand, and Apparated us both to Nurmengard, the prison for his enemies, ironically enough. I convicted him there, bound him there for life. It was the only thing I could do, lest he regain power and assault the world again. After his defeat I realized he carried the Elder Wand-the Deathstick! I had defeated Gellert Grindelwald with his powers amplified by the Wand of Destiny. I had won it, the wand belonged and functioned for me; but my purpose with it was to keep it out of anyone's hands, only the worthy could take it. I would keep it close...knowing one day that person would come (and he did, but for his sake the name shall be omitted.)

With the defeat of the Dark Wizard, I gained a second bequest to submit my name for Minister-but power was my weakness, I would not accept it. My role was teaching the youth, advancing ancient knowledge and techniques. As Headmaster of Hogwarts I had done quite a number of things that the Ministry viewed as...unethical, but supported nonetheless! I had hired Miss Minerva McGonagall to replace me at my former post along with three others to assume studies of Muggle Studies, Muggle Art, and Astronomy. But I digress!

By this time, Tom Riddle-now widely known as Lord Voldemort-was recruiting madly, gaining a considerable army. By the nineteen seventies, it was war. I responded, naturally, with a group I had formed known as the Order of the Phoenix. We fought Voldemort, battled with twice the tenacity and heart; for we were convicted to our cause. (An aside: to my surprise Aberforth joined me and fought...it brought me some solace...very little, but solace nevertheless!)

I lost countless friends to Voldemort and his Death Eater followers-brutally murdered, some tortured to insanity! We sentenced those that didn't die to Azkaban, for life. They had made their choices-under the Imperius Curse or not. Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody suggested most of them were lying anyway, I believed it, of course, and will continue to do so.

The war ended with James and Lily Potter-two prodigious individuals-and their deaths. From here I will not recount what happened, merely because this story is one that will be widely told. I know not the ending, but I can only hope Harry Potter succeeded. He is a brave boy, and I am proud of him. His parents would have been proud. Sirius is proud. Harry Potter has shown us what real love is, and he will continue to do so. He is our greatest hope, the champion of champions! And of course there is Severus Snape-the catalyst that will set everything in motion-without whom Potter will not be able to complete his task.

Severus Snape works on a motivation unlike any other. He is the embodiment of what I have attempted to divulge for the past several decades-love is the greatest magic of all! Love is the best motivator and the best weapon. Love is an amazing concept very few appreciate as much as they should. Severus Snape will have my unending respect-he is an extraordinary man.

Nevertheless, I have possessed all three Deathly Hallows, and I have passed them on accordingly. The true Master of Death will accept his inevitable end, and it is for this reason he has gained the right to bear the objects. He will not use them for selfish gain or immortality-he knows Death will greet him, and he will greet back. I am proud of this person, and he will do great things in this life.

And now to address but one more thing: Lord Voldemort did not fathom love nor death-and that was his downfall, his weakness. He has impressive abilities, yes, but he is not a great wizard. He is a Dark Wizard, the second best in my opinion, missing out on the number one spot by Gellert Grindelwald-who accepts death like I, who welcomes it! He and I both concur: there are worse things in life than death; something Voldemort will never understand I'm afraid.

And so I leave you, my faithful reader. Thank-you for reading. This letter is yours to do with as you please-burn it, share it, keep it. You may share it or hide it. Whatever your choice please heed the messages. Perhaps if I gain a portrait in the headmaster's office you may come and see me-

Thank-you and my most sincere wishes,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

For The Greater Goodâ€