A/N: The credit of the Harry Potter plot and characters belongs solely to J.K. Rowling, with the only thing I own being my own characters and storyline.
Trivia is available on my profile. I suggest, if you haven't read my other stories, skip to the end. I change fonts for each story/series.
•~0~•
Albus Dumbledore is an observer. He sees all the beauty of the world and all its hideousness. He sees all of its potential too, its potential to be magnificent or cruel or swing in between. He sees the loving families and the happy children, and he sees the numb mothers and the crying girls.
He sees his own mother, of course, always pushing. Pushing at him, pushing at Aberforth, pushing at herself, pushing them all to be perfect. She doesn't push at Ariana, though, because Ariana can't be pushed. He sees Aberforth, rough and unrefined and yet gentle at the same time, but only to Ariana, only to his broken sister. He sees Ariana too. It's all he ever sees, his sorry excuse for a sister, the one person in the world that always has and always will hold him back. And he resents her for it.
He doesn't see his father, though. His father died in Azkaban, rotting in a cell because of Ariana and her damn brokenness. Because Ariana is all that matters, and all that ever will. And he resents her for it.
He remembers a world from before she was broken, a world that was unlimited. A world where he was happy, and so were his parents, and so was his brother, and so was Ariana. He remembers a world where his biggest problem was trying to teach Ariana not to flaunt her magic, her beautiful, gentle magic that could make butterflies fly in ornate patterns around them. She had talent. Her magic could make a sad person smile. Her magic could bring out the sun on a cloudy day. Her magic was something to behold, even if it didn't hold a candle to Albus himself. But he failed. Now her magic is mean, unstable, angry. Now her magic is something to fear, to cover up, to hide. Now her magic is dangerous. Now her magic can kill. And he resents her for it, because her stupid, beautiful magic ruined everything, and now it is gone. She paid the price, but he did too.
More even than an observer, Albus Dumbledore is a dreamer. He dreams of leaving all this behind, of leaving Ariana behind, and of making something of his life. Of being great. Of being noticed. Of being known. He dreams of an impossible future. And he dreams of making it possible.
He's relieved when he finally goes to Hogwarts. He can finally escape the ever-looming shadow of his suffocating family.
On the Hogwarts Express, he meets little Elphias Doge. An outcast because of his green skin and pockmarks. He is recovering from Dragon Pox, and that is which that would repel most kids, but it doesn't repel Albus. For Elphias is an outcast, and, because of his father's crimes, because of Ariana's brokenness, because of adolescent assumption, so is he.
He's Sorted into Gryffindor. Of course. He's spent the last few years of his life in Godric's Hollow, surrounded by his own and yet isolated by his mother at the same time, and he supposes he's picked up a few things. He hates Godric's Hollow, for it is the place he has been trapped all these years, the place of true misery. But he is not there anymore, and he is free now, even in Gryffindor House, so he begins.
He quickly rises to the top of Hogwarts. The most brilliant, the most skilled, the most liked student. His classmates, his teachers. It's like he is finally in a world he can control, a world where he has power, for once. He wins awards. He is noticed. And he likes it. He likes it because, for once, everything is not about Ariana. For once, it's about him. For once, his genius is given light. For once, he is appreciated.
He doesn't go home for Christmas break. He doesn't go home for Easter. Instead, he spends his holidays surrounded by people who practically worship him. Who give a damn about him. Who want to get to know him. He is nice to them, always, because it is nice to have fans. His greatest friends, though, are the outcasts. He understands their struggle. He knows their lives. They trust him. They can confide in him. He knows their secrets. They don't know his. But that is good. Because he doesn't want to be the boy with the freak sister or the dense brother or the mistrusting mother. He just wants to be Albus. He spends his holidays feeling loved.
When he does go home, he is shocked to remember his life before. Where he is ignored, in favor of his sister. Where he is expected to stay shut up in that horrible house day after day, pretending to be the hermit his whole family is. Where his great intellect, his unmatchable skill, are overlooked, unimportant. Where he is. And he hates it even more.
He spends as little time home as he can. He wants only to escape his family, run away to a world he now knew was possible. Run away to a world where he is loved, is adored, is important. Run away and be happy. It's all he wants.
Adulthood is his ticket out. Once he graduates Hogwarts, he will leave and never look back. He will never look back to the world he grew up in, the world he hates, never look back to the people who made him feel this way. He is ready.
He even plans a trip, with little Elphias Doge, still as much an outcast as ever, but buoyed by his relationship with the popular, liked Albus. They prepare for a Grand Tour of the world. He is happy, excited, for he will finally, truly, be free.
And then Ariana destroys everything.
His mother, killed in one of Ariana's more violent outbursts. His dreams, destroyed with her. His future, gone in the blink of an eye. And he resents her for it. He resents her for everything.
It is over, everything. Now he is the head of the household, the guard of their prison. Now he can never leave Godric's Hollow, the place he hates. Now he must live as his mother had, spending all the years of his life closed up in that wretched house, not trusting the breeze that blows against it. Now he is responsible for Ariana, for Aberforth, and for their secrecy. And he hates every minute of it.
But still, he can dream. He can dream of the future that might have been, of the future that was ripped away from him in an instant, of the future he could not have. And does it make him resent Ariana even more? Yes. But he does not care.
•~0~•
And then, a beacon of hope. A great salvation. He arrives. And there is something so magnificent and beautiful and horrible about him all at once. He is power and ambition and cruelty. He is an angel, a gift from God, and he is a demon, a great temptation. He is darkness, but Albus can almost convince himself that he is light too. And his name is Gellert Grindelwald.
Albus is in love at first sight. He sees such terrible perfection, and he is enamored by it. The feeling is strong, all-consuming, dark. But Albus gives in, because it is new and it is different. It is a change from the monotony and it is a last call of escape, his saving grace. Albus meets Gellert and he sees his Savior.
When Gellert meets Albus, he scoffs. "This, the great Dumbledore? This, the brightest mind in the world? This, the next Merlin?" He laughs lowly, taking in Albus's ragged clothes and holey shoes and dilapidated house, studying his rough and sun-tanned brother, whose face was dirty from tending to the goats, whose hair was braided back messily by a dazed Ariana. "No, surely not."
And Albus thinks that he will do anything to please such a breathtaking, coldhearted boy.
Slowly, he works to earn Gellert's respect, his friendship. He does. Gellert trusts him. He shares with him his plan, which will expose wizardkind as the dominant beings, and Muggles as the lessers. He fills his mind with tales of the Deathly Hallows, the owner of which is the Master of Death himself, and Albus becomes just as obsessed with them as Gellert himself, particularly the Resurrection Stone.
If only he could get his hands on that Resurrection Stone, all would be well. His parents alive, his anchor-weighted responsibility lifted, his future restored. The Hallows could fix everything. Gellert had shone Albus the light.
So they plan. They plan their revolution, their greatness, their success, and they dream of the day it comes true. And Albus keeps telling himself that it is right, that it is for the greater good, that it will benefit everyone, even the poor Muggles who must be dominated by the superior Wizarding Community, but a voice in the back of his head and in the deepest recesses of his heart keeps screaming no, no, no! He ignores it, and instead he focuses on the voice before him, the lilting, illustrious, slightly-menacing voice that tells him that he is right, that he will be great and powerful and strong. And Albus wants that, with all his heart. He wants him.
So they work. They work and work and work, and their plan is almost complete, almost perfect. And Albus can feel his excitement growing, like a wild plant taken root deep in his stomach, twisting and contorting it. Or is that his conscience? It is hard to tell the difference anymore, with Gellert here. But whatever is coming, he is ready and he is prepared and he will be great.
And then Aberforth, so like all of his family, ruins it all.
He tells Albus that this has gone too far. He tells Albus that pursuing their revolution will only be abandoning Ariana, and they certainly can't take her with them. He tells Albus that he has to put his family before his greed.
Albus doesn't like to hear that. Neither does Gellert.
"You insolent boy!" roars Gellert, striding forward furiously. "Don't you see the importance of what we're doing here? It goes far beyond your intelligence, and it's far more important than your stupid sister!"
"Don't call Ariana stupid," growls Aberforth.
"Crucio!" exclaims Gellert, and suddenly Aberforth is writhing on the ground. "You need to learn respect," he sneers.
"Stop!" protests Albus a moment too late. "Gellert, leave him be!"
"Trust me, Albus," says Gellert, deepening the curse, "you will be much better off without him."
Albus pulls out his wand. "Expelliarmus!" he cries, and though Gellert maintains a tight grip on his wand, Aberforth is no longer being tortured. Albus's hand shakes as he points it at Gellert, his love, his future. But he points it at him nonetheless. "Leave my family alone," he warns, though the threat is empty.
Gellert knows this. A sick smile lights up his face. "You wouldn't dare," he says calmly. "I know you, Albus. Better than you know yourself."
Albus knows he is right. He hesitates, and in that moment, Aberforth, recovered, lunges at Gellert, his wand firing spells indiscriminately.
The duel that ensues is the hardest one Albus has ever had to fight. He only wants to keep the peace, but he is torn between his family and his one source of hope. He doesn't know what to do, who to fight for. His loyalties crumble.
Ariana runs out, distraught and pleading at the men to stop fighting, her face wet, her voice alarmed. Albus pays no attention to her. Neither does Gellert. Neither does Aberforth, for once, too caught up to notice.
She tries to use magic to stop it, to stop everything, but hers fails her, just as it always has.
And then there is a bang, and Ariana is dead in the grass. Gellert is gone, afraid of being caught with a dead body, after everything he's done. Aberforth is inconsolable, cupping Ariana's dirty face in his rough hands, and kissing her forehead sloppily. Albus feels nothing. Nothing but guilt.
Aberforth didn't see what happened, and neither did Albus. Neither saw the blow, the curse, the spell that killed their sister. But Albus knows. He knows who did it. He knows who is responsible for Ariana's death. He is. He brought Gellert into their lives. He neglected his siblings, the only family he had left. He resented them. And he killed her. Somehow he just knows, even if he won't admit it to himself.
His guilt eats him alive.
He dreams of Ariana for many nights after, so much that it is impossible for him to ever forget her face, ever forget her voice. She tells him that she doesn't blame him, that she is finally happy and whole again, that he needn't blame himself anymore. He doesn't listen. After all, dreams have always led him astray.