For The Love Of A Sister

Author: Mystic Dodo

Originally Published: 2010

A/N: You know, I never really understood Dumbledore's motivations... This idea was born after a debate with a friend! How is it?

Warnings: Child abuse. Spoilers for Dumbledore's backstory.

Albus Dumbledore knew he was an exceptionally intelligent wizard. However, he also knew that, due to this, his mistakes would be greater and of more terrible consequences.

His old and trusted friend, Minerva McGonagall, constantly reprimanded him for weeks on end after he left baby Harry Potter on his relatives' doorsteps.

"Dumbledore - you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son - I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets!"

"These people will never understand him!"

Nonetheless, he insisted; Harry had to stay with his only living relatives. He was cautious, of course. He knew Petunia Dursley was insanely jealous of her sister's magic. He remembered the tearful little girl writing him a letter, begging for her to be allowed to come to Hogwarts. He had heard how Petunia then resented Lily for having the attention that she so desired from her parents. He also knew that she would no doubt harbour some lasting resentment for her sister's son - but, he had hoped and prayed, Petunia would be able to overlook her jealousy at the news of Lily's tragic death and take care of Harry as if he was her own son.

Just to be sure, he placed Squib Arabella Fig in the neighbourhood to keep an eye on Harry.

Just in case.

"Albus, beg my rudeness, but you fool! Place Harry with somebody who has a level head, somebody who won't worship the ground he walks on or the air he breathes! He'll learn about magic, he'll learn about his world, he'll learn additional skills and abilities he'll need later on in life... It's unfair to keep him isolated." Minerva argued with him days after the baby was placed on the doorstep of Number Four Privet Drive.

"Minerva, blood magic is extremely powerful. Harry will be safe with his relatives. I've placed Arabella Figg to keep an eye on him."

"Again, Albus, you're being a fool! I've seen how they behave! I've seen their son. Harry... goodness gracious! Harry will either raised up spoiled, pampered and in an unhealthy physical condition or they'll hate him! There were many times I had to console Lily after holidays due to her sister's behaviour... please, place Harry with somebody more suitable."

Severus Snape was in no condition to take in the son of the man who won the affections of the woman whom he adored. He would, therefore, hate Harry.

Minerva was far too busy.

He couldn't trust others to not have Harry become an airhead; arrogant and self-centred. No. It would have to be Harry's relatives. He did have Arabella keep an eye on the young boy; to report any accidental magic or odd behaviour around the area; to see how happy he was and if he was coping, if he had any memories of the night The Dark Lord attempted to end the infant's... if he, Dumbledore, needed to intervene.

Nothing went overly wrong for the first few years in regards to being spoilt and pampered; Harry wasn't bestowed on with perhaps the attention he needed and deserved, however. He was underfed and bullied by his cousin and his Uncle liked to shout at the lad. His aunt set chores and tried her best to stay away from her blood nephew, shooting dark looks when she came across her nephew. However, they never attacked Harry on cases of accidental magic; a day or so without food, a yell, a threat... but no fists.

After a few years Albus steadily became more distant. Arabella still reported regularly; it was always the same. No problems regarding but Albus, his vile family hate him. Are you sure this is the correct thing to do? What if he develops anger or depressive issues? And each time, the powerful man declared that it was for the Wizarding World's best interest to have a hero that wasn't conceited or arrogant. As long as things didn't escalate or become more dangerous than safe, Harry would be fine where he was situated.

It was a hot summer day and Dumbledore was sorting through applicants for the Defence Against The Dark Arts position. Humming slightly under his breath, accompanying Fawkes as he conducted a song, Dumbledore contently sucked on some sherbet lemons. He paused when he came across a particular applicant; a young women with thick blonde hair and with blue eyes. It was a generalised appearance; he had often seen many women of the same description. However, it wasn't that which had caught his eyes; it was her expression. It was calm, almost vacant.

Dumbledore felt his heart constrict as he placed the unfortunate woman's application paper swiftly to the disregard pile. He closed his eyes and soothed his suddenly frazzled emotions by listening to his beautiful Phoenix. After a couple of moments, he reopening them, his blue eyes seeking out a nearby calendar. Ah, that explains his sudden shock; it was nearing the anniversary of her death... of his mistake. His subconscious must have already realised. Taking a deep breath he popped another sweet in his mouth, sucking carefully.

Oh! Young Harry Potter's seventh birthday had been just a few days ago, as well.

Almost as though she had been aware that his thoughts were with the Boy Who Lived, Dumbledore was startled out of them when his fireplace suddenly burst into life. Arabella Figg's pale face shone through the flames and they widened with relief upon seeing Albus' shocked face. "My dear Arabella, what is -"

"Albus, Harry's in trouble!" The old women interrupted, her face flushed and her hair askew.

A few seconds silence passed until the headmaster rose from his seat. "Please, explain from the beginning." Albus requested in a soothing voice, kneeling down in front of the fire.

Mrs Figg was agitated and looking fearful. "Albus, there's no time! You have to help him!"

"Is it Death Eaters?"

"What? No! No, his family!"

Dumbledore frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Albus!" The women cried, exasperated. "They're hurting him! They're screaming at him for being a 'freak', for being magical! I came to you as fast as I could!"

Her face flashed his mind. Within seconds Albus was situated in his friend's house, and stepping into a neighbourhood he hadn't visited in just over 6 years. He quickly approached Number 4, not drawing any attention from the other Muggles to himself and at the front door could hear the muffles shouts of what sounded like, "You freak! How dare you!"

Albus looked over at Mrs Figg, who was wringing the handles of her handbag fearfully. He returned his eyes to the front door and entered the house, trying to prepare himself for what may become. His parent's voices bounced inside his mind and he pushed it to the side as best as he could. The house was a mess. A woman was screaming, two boys were crying and a man was bellowing. Albus lightly stepped towards the kitchen where the ruckus was coming from and made himself invisible. His heart clenched at the scene. Harry was backed into a corner, shaking and crying as his red faced Uncle bellowed at him, flailing his beefy arms. Petunia was hugging her own crying child.

"You think you can use your freakish ability to hurt our son? You think you have the power in this household?" Vernon was spitting, his padded hand clamping around the stick of Harry's arm. "We gave you a roof, food, clothing and shelter, an education and enough courtesy for you to be grateful and this is how you repay us? By using freakish tricks to send knives to Dudders!"

Harry was shaking. "I, d-didn't mean t-too," he choked out, tears streaming fast and unguarded down his thin, pale face. "I.. he... was s-saying bad t-things about my parents and I g-got angry and-"

"And so you decided to try and murder him?" Petunia shrieked from over her son's blonde hair.

"W-what? N-no! I-"

Vernon backhanded Harry and Dumbledore flinched as the small boy hit the floor, hard, with the impact breaking his glasses. "I'll teach you, boy! I'll teach you to threaten us!"

"P-please, n-no, not again!" Harry begged, his bright green eyes overflowing with a fresh wave of terrified tears. "No, no!" His voice rose as Vernon stalked towards the young boy like a predator, kicking hopelessly at his legs.

"No,! Please, don't! I'm sorry, I'll never do it again, I promise, I'm sorry, no, no!" A female was sobbing and begging.

"Never use that freak trick again!" Vernon bellowed, the loudest yet and forcing Dumbledore to return to the present day. "Never again or I'll make you wish you had died along with your scum of parents! You're an abnormality, you're worthless! You're a freak of nature and-"

And Dumbledore had seen enough. His mind swimming with images and scenarios that haunted his dreams at night, he sent a petrify charm to the parents and a silencing one to the obese boy, revealing his location. He was breathless and trembling and thankfully, things went by swiftly. He erased the memories of having Harry in their keep from their minds and took the hysterical boy out of the house, careful not to injure the bruised, young flesh.

He hoped he wasn't too late. Harry was at the tender age of seven, just one year older than her. It can take one moment, just one moment in time for everything to go wrong. He needed Harry. The wizarding world needed Harry. It couldn't happen again... not when he could prevent it this time, not when he could help.

"You're eleven years old, Albus. You're soon to begin Hogwarts. Don't talk about your father's arrest. Don't answer if somebody questions you as to why he... why he hurt the Muggles. When there, never mention about your sister's condition. Never even indicate that you have a sister. Okay?"

"Mother, she's my sister."

"And she'll be sectioned to St Mungo's if so much as a breath escapes about her condition! They'll call her a freak, an abnormality, a danger to others."

"I should have done something to protect her. I'm her brother; I should have been there to help."

Not even an hour later Dumblredore and Harry was located at the headmaster's own luxurious home. Harry had fainted out of exertion, fear and weakness. Dumbledore gave himself a stomach ache from worrying, especially when he tried to apply a lavender scented healing balm to the boy's abused skin only for accidental magic to shook like untamed electricity from his body.

He couldn't be too late. He simply couldn't memories of the forbidden cascaded mercilessly his mind. Crying and begs, his mother's soothing voice and her scream when her life came to an abrupt and violent end. The yelling, the flashes of spells, his father, Azakaban, the whispers and rumours and… Grinderwald...

He was unable to protect his sister. He just hoped he wasn't too late to protect Harry... from himself.

He would never forgive the Muggles from irreversibly harming his sister - and neither could be forgive himself for her death. But perhaps, maybe his nights would be less restless should he help save a helpless little boy from the same hellish fate. Maybe Dumbledore could finally feel at ease and be able to look his brother in the eye again, even just for a second? It was best for Harry to grow up as a normal child as much as he could before the chaos that would follow with the admittance to Hogwarts; yet Dumbledore couldn't stand back with the haunting knowledge that the boy's relatives - magic hating relatives - were trying to scare and beat the magic out of him. It was best for Harry to remain away from the Wizarding World until his eleventh birthday. On the other hand, it was with Harry's best interest and safety (magically and emotionally) to be removed from the dangerous environment.

Dumbledore didn't know what to do.

Harry's body was still sparking whenever Dumbledore's hand so much as came close to the young boy, and with each minute that passed Dumbledore felt older and more anxious. Harry's body seemed to be healing itself but what about his mind? How long had the abuse been going on for?

"Why has she suppressed her magic?"

"She's scared. She was almost killed by those Muggle boys when she showed it. She's terrified that she really will be killed if she so much as uses it."

"But you got to her in less than a few minutes after they began to hurt her; surely a few minutes can't do that much damage?"

"Even one incident of bullying can cause permanent damage. Be it verbal, physical, sexual, emotional... bullying in any form is wrong even if it was for just a few seconds."

Why hadn't he listened to McGonagall all those years ago? He should have known; maybe he did, deep down; maybe he had hoped from the bottom of his weary heart that Petunia would see her sister's son and regret her treatment and thus make it up with Harry?

But fear can make people cruel...

Dumbledore sighed heavily and with creaking bones lifted himself to his feet to floo Madam Pomfrey, just as Harry groaned. Dumbledore turned around in time to see Harry's stunning green eyes open just a fraction, enough to see his wild magic jumping from wound to wound, slowly healing them. Heart in his throat, Dumbledore slowly approached the seven year old.

"Harry?"

The boy marginally tilted his head just enough to see the pale old man peering nervously at him. He seemed to realise that Dumbledore wasn't a threat and, with a pained smile, he closed his eyes again and raised his trembling hands. A concentration of magic shone on Harry's hands as he, with light moans of pain, moved them across his body, the wounds fading away within seconds. The electricity soothed down before disappearing entirely and Harry relaxed, his body sinking into the plush bed. "Thank you," he whispered, eyes still closed.

"How do you feel?" Dumbledore asked in a quiet voice, a mixed concoction of fear and amazement and anger at the Dursley's.

Ariana... please, give him your strength.

Kaboom. Kaboom. Kaboom.

Please help Harry. We need him. He needs his magic.

Kaboom. Kaboom. Kabo-

"Tired..."

Immediately Dumbledore raised his wand to lower the lighting in the room and Harry managed to open his eyes again, sensing the more tolerable light level. "Magic is really real?" He asked softly and weakly; fear laced his voice.

Dumbledore nodded with hesitation, his heart hammering against his chest; Harry's answer... was he scared of magic? Had he been too late? The boy had used his own innate abilities to heal his wounds (an action that looked far too familiar for the old man's comfort) but to know that there was more magic… would Harry reject it?

Harry closed his eyes again with the first smile gracing his lips. "I thought so... so happy..."

A weight lifted from Dumbledore's shoulders and he almost laughed out of relief. Instead, his eyes watered as he mirrored Harry's smile. It didn't seem like he was too late in preventing an event similar to the one that has haunted him these past countless years.

Ariana... Thank you.