Chapter 4– Dumbledore's Secrets

On Harry's birthday, two days after their trip to Hogsmeade, they still hadn't found anything terribly useful in Dumbledore's things. They were having difficulty finding a time when just the three of them could explore the pensieve without Malfoy around and had been limited to just using the books.

Hermione had gone to cook lunch and when she called them to the kitchen Draco went right away while Harry and Ron finished putting away books.

"So..." Harry began, "about you and Hermione..."

Ron tensed noticeably and began dropping things.

"What about Hermione?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Are you two a real couple yet, or what?"

"Well... Um..."

He bent, retrieving the dropped books to buy time, but Harry was impatient.

"Have you kissed or anything?"

"Well... yeah. I kissed her on the cheek at the wedding."

"That was days ago. What about since then? Did you... you know?"

Ron blushed deeply and looked down toward his feet. "Of course not. Why do you care?"

"Well I just hoped at least one of us was getting some."

"We're not doing THAT!"

"Why not?" asked Harry, clearly puzzled.

"Well... it's just... she... isn't it too soon?"

"Ron, you've known her for six years."

"But we just... do you think she wants to?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Did Lavender only want to kiss?"

"Well, no, but we didn't do it."

"You didn't have sex with Lavender?" This time Harry was completely dumbfounded.

"Well, no. We never got to it– Wait! Did you do it with Ginny?"

"Er... I didn't say that!"

Ron's face turned bright red and Harry began looking for a place to hide. "You did! You had sex with my sister!"

"Ron, I–"

"You did! Don't try to deny it now!"

Harry was slowly backing away toward the doorway, worried about what his best friend may do to him.

"It's not what you think! She made me do it!"

"Innocent Ginny wouldn't make you do anything like that!"

Harry stopped in his tracks at that. Innocent?

"Ron, I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but your sister is far from innocent-"

He was cut off abruptly when Ron threw a copy of Hogwarts: A History at his head.

"Well, you're not getting any at all if Hermione catches you throwing that around!"

"You corrupted my sister!"

"I swear, she corrupted me!"

"You're lying!" Another book flew toward Harry's head and Harry ran out of the study and down the hall toward the kitchen.

Thus far, they had been careful not to anger the portrait of the formidable Mrs. Black. Twice she had awoken, and since they remembered to be extra quiet. However, one didn't think about noise levels when one was being chased by an angry best friend and several mild jinxes. Harry was much more worried about the red head than an old woman who didn't have a wand and couldn't leave the wall.

"BLOOD TRAITORS AND MUDBLOOD FILTH IN THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS! VILE, DIRTY..."

Harry ignored her and kept running. He burst into the kitchen, out of breath and eyes darting around for a place to hide.

"You woke Mrs. Black. What are you two...?" She stopped and took in his appearance. "What on earth, Harry? You look like you're being chased by a dementor!"

"Worse! Ron!"

"Ron? But why would he...?"

Just then, Ron slammed open the kitchen door, wand pointed and eyes searching for Harry. Mrs. Black's screams only got louder. She had added "manners befitting half-blood trash" to her list of things she found distasteful about the two teenagers.

"Where is he?"

"Potter, don't you dare hide behind my chair! I'm not getting in the middle of this!" Malfoy got up quickly and tried to leave, but Ron was still blocking the door, so he figured Granger was a safe ally. After all, they wouldn't hurt her, would they?

"VILE PERVERTS INFESTING MY HOME!"

"Would someone like to tell me what in Merlin's fucking name is going on here?" Hermione screamed to be heard over the portrait.

That got everyone's attention. Even Malfoy knew that Hermione almost never swore.

"He's trying to kill me!"

"He defiled my sister!"

"PERVERTS! ALL OF YOU! YOUR UNCLEAN PRACTICES DEFILING THE HOUSE OF BLACK!"

Hermione blinked a few times. "Is that all?"

"'Is that...' Hermione, I don't think you heard me. He had sex with my sister!"

"For the love of Merlin, Weasley! Is your sister a nun or something? She was dating Harry Fucking Potter. If you hadn't noticed, he's only the biggest celebrity of our school. Of course she had sex with him!"

Hermione rolled her eyes at Draco's logic and approached Ron carefully.

"Ron, it's just sex. And it's not like Harry was her first." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew it was the wrong thing to say.

"What? Are you saying my sister is some kind of, of slut?"

Harry poked his head up over the top of the chair. "I told you she corrupted me!" Ron turned on him then, which caused Harry to squeak and duck behind the chair again. He'd fought with Ron before, but this was different. You just don't mess with a big brother protecting his little sister.

Draco, who had changed his mind about leaving the room, was leaning against the stove, arms crossed, smirking as if he were quite enjoying himself.

"You had sex with her and then just dumped her!"

"You understood why we broke up!"

"That was before I knew you had sex!"

"VILE MUDBLOODS CONTAMINATING PURE BLOOD LINES!"

"Ron, quiet down. That disgusting woman can hear everything you say and it's just making her worse!"

"Ron, mate, it's not like I forced her to do anything. She was more than willing!"

"I don't want to hear about how willing she was. It's not the point!"

"Then what exactly is the point, Ron?" said Hermione.

"TRASH! TRASH IN THE HOUSE OF MY ANCESTORS!"

Hermione put a hand on her forehead, trying to rub away the sudden headache. "For Merlin's sake, Malfoy, go shut her up!"

"How do you propose I do that, Granger?"

"She's your great-aunt. She likes you. Think of something. NOW!" She made her point with the end of her wand in his face.

Malfoy didn't need to be told again.

"Ron, your sister is old enough to figure out for herself who she wants to sleep with. Yes, she was upset over the break-up with Harry, but she went running right back into Dean's arms, leading me to believe that she's having a good enough time with him and you don't have to worry about it. Besides if either Harry or Dean did anything wrong to her, do you think she'd hesitate a second to hex them into next year?"

Mrs. Black's portrait quieted, but even in the silence Ron's reply was barely audible. "Well, no, but-"

"No 'but.' Stop trying to kill Harry and let's have lunch. We'll never get anything done if you two are trying to curse each other. And I certainly don't want a repeat performance of fourth year. I will not be in the middle of a fight again. I'll hex you both before I do that."

"OK, fine." Ron sat down at the table, but kept his narrowed eyes on Harry the whole time.

Malfoy, having reentered the kitchen, could always be counted on to shift focus back onto himself. "Really, Potter. How are you ever going to kill the Dark Lord if Weasley has you hiding behind chairs?"

"I don't mind Avada Kedavra-ing Voldemort, Malfoy."

"I'll do it to Weasley if you don't have the balls."

Harry started his retort, but was cut off by Hermione. "If either of you says another word you'll both be on the wrong end of one of my hexes."

Lunch was quiet after that.

They were back at work in the study when a gray owl brought in four letters from Hogwarts. It appeared that the school would remain open, at least for now. There was a long letter with the book lists explaining the security measures. Hermione suddenly gasped.

"It's the thirty-first."

"Ten points to Gryffindor for Granger's astounding ability to read a calender," drawled Malfoy.

Hermione threw a quill at him in response. "It's Harry's birthday and we forgot to celebrate."

"Don't worry about it, Hermione. I didn't even notice."

"How can you not notice your own birthday, Potter?"

"Because nobody but me ever celebrates it. Until the last few years I was always alone on my birthday."

"Your family didn't buy the great Harry Potter all sorts of stuff?"

"Shut up, Malfoy," yelled Ron.

"Relax, Ron. It's not like he knows. He didn't mean anything by it."

"What's wrong with your birthday?"

Harry turned toward Draco. "The relatives I lived with didn't like me too much, that's all."

"Anyway," said Hermione, "we aren't much better since we forgot as well."

"You're loads better than them. Even I forgot it, so I can't very well blame you."

"Regardless, I'm going to make a special dinner to celebrate. You're a legal wizard now. Anything you want, Harry."

Ron, still not wanting to be in the same room with the guy who "defiled" his sister, helped Hermione with the dinner. Harry noticed as they ate that the two seemed to be getting on much better. They not only sat next to each other, but Harry thought Ron's chair looked like it had been moved a little closer than usual to Hermione's. They kept glancing at each other and pretending like everything was normal, but Ron's grin gave it all away.

After dinner and more than a serving of a cake that Mrs. Weasley sent, Harry locked himself in his room, determined to start on Dumbledore's things. Hermione had been reading about how to use pensieves and he picked up tips from her. He wanted control over where he went and when he was leaving. With only the briefest moment of hesitation and a deep breath, he dove in.

The first memory Harry landed in was one he remembered. He found himself face to face with his much younger self. He was dirty and bloody and he knew that it was just after he and Ron had come up from the Chamber of Secrets.

It was hard for Harry to remember being so young. He wondered how he survived everything he'd been through in the past seven years. It was luck mostly, like he had told Malfoy. Without Fawkes he would have never defeated the Basilisk. Without a strange malfunction in their wands he would have never survived his encounter with Lord Voldemort in fourth year.

He watched the more innocent version of himself as Dumbledore explained about the diary and Gryffindor's sword. Would he have been able to handle the news of the prophecy back then? What would such a young boy do with that knowledge?

Part of him wanted to go back to when everything was so much simpler. And another part was more than ready to push ahead and finish it.

Leaving that memory behind, Harry pushed deeper, going farther back. He stopped abruptly when he saw the faces of his mother and father. They were standing in Dumbledore's office which, Harry noticed, hadn't even changed over the years. Lily didn't look much different than when he had seen her in Snape's memory from school. She was tired and her hair had been pulled back hastily, but she was still beautiful.

"We appreciate the offer, Professor, but we've made our decision," James said.

"I see. And there's nothing I can say to change your mind?"

"Sirius is Harry's godfather. He would never give away our location."

"And what if he is found? He could be tortured into giving you away."

"He's leaving as soon as the charm is in place. He's going into hiding and he won't be found."

"If you're both sure." Dumbledore looked to Lily, as if sensing that she wasn't as behind the idea as her husband. She hesitated several moments and finally nodded.

"We're doing what's best for Harry. Sirius feels it's his responsibility."

"If you're sure..." Dumbledore repeated.

Harry wanted to scream at his parents, tell them to just have Dumbledore do it. But he knew that they were only memories now.

With a sick feeling in his stomach he left that memory and plunged further into the pensieve. This time he purposely dove deep, trying to get past anything that had to do with his parents. He didn't want to see them making the decisions that would lead to their death.

This time he landed on a dirt road on the edge of a small village. It seemed to be just past sunset, for Harry could see a faint orange glow on the horizon. There were people in dark cloaks coming toward him from the village and Harry realized that just behind him was the man they were coming to meet.

The man was tall and thin with shoulder-length auburn hair tucked behind his ears. He was panting as if having just run a long distance. There was something very familiar about him, but Harry couldn't quite place it. He was young; Harry thought not much over thirty. His brow was creased with worry and his wand was clenched in his right hand, but not raised.

"Grindelwald!" The man called out. Harry was immediately enthralled. Could this man then be...?

"Dumbledore! How good of you to join us! I was hoping that you would come." Grindelwald took down the hood of his cloak.

Dumbledore waited until the men were closer and then spoke again. "What are you doing here? We had an agreement!"

Grindelwald was a tall wizard, nearly the same height as Dumbledore, but more muscular and quite a bit older. His black hair was slicked back and he strode forward confidently. Harry wasn't sure if it was his physical appearance or the crowd behind him that made him more intimidating.

"But it was you who broke our agreement. How else would it be that the Ministry gained word of what I have been doing?"

Dumbledore began to raise his wand, but someone in the group disarmed him.

"Claus!" Grindelwald shouted and nodded to Dumbledore. Claus then ran up and stopped just behind Dumbledore, keeping his wand pointed out. "No. I am not stupid, Albus. First my own German Ministry turns against me, then the British won't let me into their country. And you conveniently are missing. Or hiding. Were you hiding from me, Albus?"

Dumbledore didn't answer him.

"But I knew that coming to this place would bring you to me. You are so predictably foolish, that your love for them could cause you to risk your very life." Grindelwald turned to address the men behind him. "Bring them out!"

Harry looked past them toward the village and saw figures emerging from one of the houses. More men in black, dragging with them others who were screaming. Dumbledore started toward them, but he was held back by the men with Grindelwald.

"No! No, don't hurt them!"

"Again, predictable. Bring the girl here!"

"You bastard! Let them go!"

Harry was surprised. He had never heard Dumbledore call someone such a name. Not even Voldemort. The older Dumbledore was always much more calm, rational. He was far too witty to reduce himself to childish name-calling.

The crowd of cloaked men parted and a young woman was brought forward. She was crying and dirty as if she'd already been through a lot already that night. When she saw Dumbledore her eyes lit up with hope.

"Albus!"

"Gwen! Let her go, you bastard!"

"Such language, Dumbledore. Because of what you did my plans have been pushed back indefinitely. Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you and everyone you know."

"She's nothing to you! It's not her fault. It's my fault! Hurt me! Do what you want with me, but leave these people alone!"

A chill went through Harry as he was reminded of the night Dumbledore died, and the things he screamed after drinking the green potion. At the time, Harry had been unsure of what was going on in Dumbledore's mind, and what horrible images the potion created in the drinker. But now he was starting to get the idea that they were not made-up horrors, but memories. Dumbledore had been reliving this night.

"I think not, Albus. You see, you betrayed me. You ruined everything we worked for. So now I think it only fitting that you watch those you love pay the price. Perhaps we shall even use some of the spells you and I created together, yes?"

Dumbledore's eyes went wide. "NO! No! It is my fault, take me! Please. I know I did wrong. Don't hurt them. Take me instead! Kill me, not them!"

Grindelwald strode forward until he was inches away from Dumbledore's face. "No, Albus. I do not think I will kill you now. You see, there are worse things than death. And you are about to find that out. Instead, you shall watch them die– watch her die. And then you will live with the knowledge that you were the cause."

"You're a monster."

Grindelwald laughed. "Is that why you betrayed me? Because your conscious betrayed you? You could have been great, Albus. You could have risen with me to the top. We could have been the most feared wizards in the world. But you– what? Lost interest? Came to your senses? Or did you simply not have the courage to follow through?"

"I saw what you are. And I don't wish to become that. I couldn't let you go through with it. It could mean the deaths of millions."

Grindelwald let out a low chuckle. "Not 'could.' It will mean the deaths of millions. But who will die? The undesirables, the weak! The world will be a better place. Now, thanks to you, it will have to wait. And you will pay for that." He turned back to the crowd. "Bring them all."

The men in cloaks came forward with the captives, throwing them on the ground inside a newly formed circle. Of course Harry did not recognize any of them, but he understood what was happening. They were all family or friends of Dumbledore's. The girl, Gwen, must have been Dumbledore's girlfriend. As the others were brought, Dumbledore kept his eyes on Gwen. She was crying again and saying his name, pleading with him to do something. But there was nothing to be done.

"Gwen... I'm so sorry. Forgive me?" Dumbledore was crying now. Gwen nodded through her own tears. "I love you."

"I love you," she replied.

"Oh, how sweet," Grindelwald mocked them. "But will you be saying that in a few minutes, my dear?" He turned and nodded to one of his men.

The man immediately sent a curse at one of the people on the ground who let out a piercing scream that Harry had unfortunately heard before. It was the unmistakable scream of torture under the Cruciatus Curse. The man writhed in the dirt as the men in the circle laughed. The screams were nearly outdone by Dumbledore's own yelling. He began to run toward the villager when the curse was first fired, but Claus bound him with a jinx and he was unable to move. Screaming at the top of his lungs for them to stop, he kept repeating the same thing over and over; "Don't hurt them! It's my fault!"

Harry didn't wait for the memory to be over. He was weak and shaky when he landed back in his room. He hadn't dwelled much on what had caused Dumbledore's screams in the cave. He couldn't think of the event without getting a sick feeling in his stomach. He had felt guilty enough after making the old man drink the green liquid that he tried to put the whole thing out of his mind. This was the event that set the course for the rest of Dumbledore's life. Harry guessed that it was why he became as powerful and as knowledgeable as he was. It was what motivated him to defeat Grindelwald later in life. More importantly, it was why he was alone. Dumbledore had never married or had children and Harry couldn't help but think that after Gwen was gone he had been alone the rest of his years.

Harry became increasingly queasy thinking about these things, but then another thought occurred to him. Dumbledore had always said that there were worse things than death, a fact he had even related to Voldemort at their last meeting. Harry had believed this, without really considering what was worse. He just took it as another piece of advice from a man who was much older and wiser. Never had he thought that Dumbledore actually knew it from experience.

He didn't have time to make it to the bathroom before vomiting on his bedroom floor.