Author's Note: This chapter is the main reason it took me so long to post this story. Rowling created such an incredibly complex character in Dumbledore that it is extremely difficult (for me, anyways) to do him justice, to show both very divergent sides to the man. Whether you think I succeeded or not, please, let me know! In this chapter I reference a popular saying adapted from a quote by Robert Burns: The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry. This quote also inspired much of this chapter. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 3: Master Plan

It had been a perfect plan.

It was a simple plan. Harry Potter would die to defeat Voldemort, to save the wizarding world. It was unfortunate, tragic even, but unavoidable. It was the only way. Otherwise everyone would die.

For ten years, Albus Dumbledore planned the boy's fate. For ten years, he thought of and took care of every possibility, every minutiae, every situation that might possibly keep the boy from becoming a martyr, a sacrificial lamb, the unwitting savior of the wizarding world.

But then he had actually gotten to know Harry, and suddenly it had become much, much harder. He became too protective of the boy, reluctant to resign him to his fate, although he knew he would have to, eventually.

That was the begining of the end.

From them on, all of his best laid plans were torn to shreds. Soon, he was making mistake after mistake, all in a feeble attempt to forestall Harry's ultimate destiny. Waiting too long to tell Harry about his connection to Voldemort, waiting too long to tell him the prophecy, waiting too long to tell him about the Horcruxes, waiting too long for everything.

And then, of course, Albus had made his final error. The one error from which he could not recover, which he could not rectify or erase. In a moment of blinding weakness, he tried on the Resurrection Stone. He had all but guaranteed that he would not be around for the final stage of his own plan. Not only had he finally damned Harry to his fate, but he had damned the rest of the wizarding world as well. He was sure of it.

The end did not turn out quite as badly as he had feared, but it was bad enough.

He stares at the paper on Minerva's desk. He has no doubt that she purposely put it where he would be able to see it from his portrait. His eyes well as he looks at the long list of those who had died in the last battle. Twenty of them were current students, and the rest of them had been his students once as well, some of them very recently.

He had had a plan.

Next: Teams