"Albus… I am so sorry," Doge said as he finished reading the letter. Albus smiled weakly at him.

"It's not your fault, my friend," Albus said. His hands were shaking. They were usually quite steady.

"Well… What are you going to do?" Doge asked, though he already knew the answer.

"It seems quite obvious that I must return home as quickly as possible. I suppose I have a- I have a-"Albus's voice broke. He took a deep breath and then continued "I have a funeral to arrange."

Doge nodded and for a few moments they were silent. Doge made some tea while Albus sat at the table lost in thought. When Doge returned with two steaming cups of tea Albus wiped his eyes looked up.

"Thank you," Albus mumbled and took a sip. The tea soothed his throat a bit; it was raw from sobbing. It made him feel calmer than he had since he received that letter early this morning.

He had woken up early and was unable to go back to sleep. It was the day that he would depart with Doge to tour the country and he was so ecstatic that he packed and repacked his bags three times in the hours preceding the letter. He had ensured he had everything packed in his trunk, laid his traveling cloak on the bed, and was just heading down for breakfast with Doge when he heard the sound of talons on his window.

It had taken Albus a moment to locate the window because he was unaccustomed to his hotel room. He and Doge had only been in this inn for one night. When he had finally located the window he opened it to let in a large black owl bearing a letter in its beak. Albus had thought this was peculiar, as he had never seen this owl before. Perhaps the owl had delivered to the wrong person.

He had taken the letter from it's beak and sat down on the bed. His name had been written in hasty lettering on an envelope bearing what appeared to be stains from tiny drops of water… Or were those tears?

Feeling slightly worried, Albus had torn open the envelope and pulled out a single piece of paper. The letter was short and written in his brother Aberforth's handwriting; tears had smudged the ink and it was hard to read in places. Albus had only made it through the first line before he had stopped, put his face in his hands, and cried. It had taken a few minutes for Albus to compose himself enough to finish reading the letter.

Albus,

I don't know how to tell you this so I guess I'll just do it. Mum is dead. Ariana killed her. It was an accident, of course. I don't know all the details and no one saw it besides Mrs. Bagshot. She and mum were close, you know. But anyway from what I can figure… Ariana was having one of her episodes and she couldn't control her magic. Mum was trying to calm her down, but it wasn't working. Mrs. Bagshot heard yelling and hurried over to see what was wrong. The door was unlocked. She came into the hallway and found mum lying on the floor- dead. Ariana was huddled over her screaming and shaking her. It took all of little old Bathilda's strength to get Ariana off Mum's body. She had to give her a sleeping draught before she could even get close enough to mum to make sure she was dead. Apparently mum had been trying to give one to Ariana to calm her. It was sitting on the table. Once Ariana was asleep at the kitchen table, Mrs. Bagshot tried to revive mum… But she was gone. I got off the train and found no one waiting on me. I had to take a cab to Godric's Hallow.

Come as soon as possible. You're the only one of age and so the ministry sees you as the head of the Dumbledore household now.

Aberforth

Albus had sat and stared at the letter until Doge came up to find him. He'd missed breakfast and wasn't even able to bring himself to tell Doge what had happened. He had simply handed over the letter and watched Doge's face fall as he read it.

After his reminiscent tea, Albus stood up slowly. Doge watched him from the other end of the table. It took them less than an hour to pack up their things and apparate to the safe spot on the outskirts of Godric's Hallow. Doge helped Albus carry his things up to his room and then left shortly after. He offered to stay back and wait on Albus many times, but Albus wouldn't hear of it. He wouldn't let this misfortune hold back Doge as well as himself.

Aberforth was no where to be seen, neither was Ariana, which Albus had found odd. Their mother rarely ever let Ariana leave the house. She was too unstable to be in the sight of muggles. If the Ministry caught on to Ariana's disability she would be locked up in St. Mungos for the rest of her life. That was the last thing that Mrs. Dumbledore wanted, and she had engrained the same fear into Albus and Aberforth.

Albus couldn't help but feel that this entire thing was completely unfair as he set to tidying up the house. He had found a note in the kitchen from Aberforth telling him that he and Ariana were with Mrs. Bagshot for the afternoon and he was welcome to join them for dinner. With the two of them out of the house, it was the perfect time for Albus to clean everything up, although he did so resentfully.

It wasn't fair that he had to return home to care for his broken sister. It wasn't fair that those muggle boys had attacked her and ruined her. It especially wasn't fair that his father had died in Azkaban for seeking revenge on those horrid children. How could the Ministry let things like this happen? Now his mother was dead too. And if the Minsitry found out it was because of Ariana…Who knew how much trouble she would be in? Albus felt his anger boiling up inside of him as he set the dishes to cleaning themselves.

He had so much talent. Everyone at school had said so. He graduated at the very top of his class. He'd already had articles published on Transfiguration. He had discovered five of who knows how many more uses of Dragon's Blood. He should be out finding the others instead of being cooped up inside this dusty old house. It wasn't fair. Albus could change the world for the better. He knew it. He had always known it. But if he was constantly trapped here then his talents would be wasted just as Ariana's magic was wasting away inside her.

Albus didn't got for dinner at the Bagshot residence that night. Instead he threw his mother's fine china against the walls in the kitchen. He smashed every single piece of tableware, magically repaired them, and then repeated the process three times before he collapsed, panting and swearing, to the floor. With a wave of his wand, Albus returned the china to its unbroken state and repaired the kitchen without a word. He had been performing silent spells since the end of his fourth year. He had always been talented.

Sitting in the floor of his kitchen, Albus looked into the reflective surface of the china cabinet. He looked just as he always did, ginger hair, slight beard, thin mouth, but his eyes were different. Instead of being curious and bright they were tear-stained and flat. He looked older and far more bitter. Noticing this difference in himself frightened Albus slightly. He had never felt this angry and miserable before.

He knew it was unbecoming. He should accept his role without complaint, and he would. But it was just so unfair. Why did his family have to go through this? Why did HE have to go through this? He had so much potential… Too much potential to be wasted here playing the domestic head of house. There was nothing to be done, though. He had to care for Ariana and Aberforth. There was clever way for Albus to get out of this one. He couldn't use his remarkable skill to puzzle out a new solution this time. He was stuck.

And that was that.

Albus heard someone arriving at the front doorstep and hurriedly got himself up from the floor and composed himself. He would assume this new position with as much dignity as possible. He wouldn't let Aberforth, let alone Ariana, see him angry and resentful. Bitterness wasn't becoming. He tried to look as calming as possible as he walked towards the front door preparing himself to meet his siblings. Nothing could surprise him now. The worst was over.

That's when he noticed that whoever was at the door hadn't come in. It wasn't Aberforth and Ariana. Anytime Ariana was being moved between houses she came into the Dumbledore residence as quickly as possible. Who was at the door then? Dumbledore's thoughts immediately went to the Ministry. Thank Merlin Ariana wasn't home if the Ministry came to call.

There was a knock on the door. Dumbledore drew himself up to his full height and opened the door. He was prepared to use his talent and charisma to convince the Ministry that he was fit to become the head of the household. He wasn't prepared to see a tall, lanky, blonde teenage boy leaning against the doorframe.

It wasn't a Ministry Official. Dumbledore felt his composure crumble. He had no idea who this boy was and why he was here. This was the first time he had been fully and completely taken aback in years. The boy didn't seem to notice the look of shock on Albus's face, or perhaps he simply didn't care.

"I have been sent to tell you that your sister fell asleep at Bathilda's house. She seems to think it best if you allow her to stay there for the night as she's been through quite a lot." The boy said. He had a heavy accent. It was clear that English wasn't his native language. Albus felt his face flush. It took a few seconds for Albus to realize that the boy was waiting on his response.

"I-um- Of course she should stay there for the night. How is Aberforth? Will he be coming home?" Even in shock Albus had some charisma, but it didn't seem to affect this boy. Bathilda knew him… How odd… he didn't think Bathilda had children, let alone any so close to Albus's age. As if reading Albus's thoughts, the boy smirked. He saw through Albus's composure just as easily as Albus saw the amusement and careful cleverness behind that smirk.

"Your brother has gone out for the night. I don't think he will return until tomorrow." There was clear and careful meaning behind those words. Albus sighed. Aberforth was out drinking and doing Merlin only knows what else.

The boy was still grinning coyly up at Albus from his doorway. How can someone make standing look so easy and so calculated at the same time. Albus could tell that as lazily as this boy was standing he had also meticulously placed himself to look just so.

"You're aware of your brother's… activities?" The boy asked, still grinning.

When Albus only nodded the boy pushed himself lazily from the doorframe and turned as if to head off down the street. Towards Bathilda's house. He was leaving just as quickly as he'd appeared. Albus watched his retreating back. Who knew that someone in worn out jeans and a tee shirt could look so thrown together and calculated at the same time. His hair was tousled, as if he hadn't even tried, but if Albus had to guess he had carefully fixed his entire appearance to look that way. Albus continued watching him. He was strolling slowly towards the house next door. That's when Albus noticed his tattoo.

Why Albus had been looking at the boy's leanly muscled bicep was beyond Albus's cleverest reasoning. His eyes had been drawn there as if by some magical force. He felt something inside himself attracted to the lazy, carefree, yet clever persona this gave off. When Albus saw the tattoo he felt his heart stop. He knew about the lore too. He knew about the Deathly Hallows. He had to… Why else would it be etched in permanent ink on his left bicep?

Before he could think, Albus had practically thrown himself out of the doorway.

"Excuse me!" Albus called, "I didn't catch your name!"

The boy turned back around lazily and grinned at Albus who stood leaning out of the doorway, one hand clinging to its frame from where he'd caught himself to keep from falling down the stairs.

"My name? Why I thought my Great-Aunt Bathilda would have mentioned me to you. She always spoke so highly of the Dumbledores. Especially their eldest, and most clever, son. My name, Albus Dumbledore, is Grindelwald. Gillert Grindelwald."