Sometimes Dumbledore wanted to just give up. Wanted to simply pack it in and leave the world to its fate.
No one who actually understood what was going on would deny that he has tried his best, but the wizarding community seemed determined to stick its head in the ground until they had a wand shoved straight up their butts. Trying to save them sometimes seemed like a lost cause.
After everything that had happened in the last four years, the Ministry of Magic was still insisting that Voldemort was gone. There was so much evidence of his revival that it was embarrassing. Each and every ex-Death Eater could show them the mark and vouch for the dark lords return. The Riddler family graveyard was filled with the dark magic from the ritual used for the creation of Voldemort's new body. But the Ministry refused to hear it.
They denied that it was Voldemort who possessed Quirrell in order to try to steal the Philosopher's Stone. They would not admit to the fragment of his soul that had reopened the Chamber of Secrets and released the Basilisk that had killed nearly a dozen students. Or how that fragment had drained away Ginny Weasley's life force, nearly killing the poor child, in order to create a body for itself. They refused to accept that Cedric Diggory was murdered in order to be a part of the ritual.
Not only that, but they were try to do everything they could to discredit Dumbledore as he tried to set up a counter measure against the revived Dark Lord. They were using every resource at there disposal in order to try to make him look like a loony old man. It was nearly heartbreaking to see all the recognition he had worked his entire life to establish being taken away from him one by one. To see the people who once begged him for advice telling him that he was over the hill and needed to retire.
The Headmaster nearly cried after the latest owl arrived at his office, informing him that there was to be a hearing to discuss whether or not he was still qualified to run Hogwarts. It wasn't bad enough they took him out of the chocolate cards set, they wanted to take his school away from him. They said that since all of the tragedies happened on his watch, he wasn't fit to be headmaster. Overlooking the fact that all of those things happened when the Ministry had used it authority to remove Albus or tie his hands.
"Maybe its for the best, Fawkes." Dumbledore said softy as he gently ran his hand over the Phoenix's bright red and yellow feathers. The bird gave a small whimper. "With my duties to Hogwarts brought to an end, I can concentrate my efforts on gaining allies for the war that is to come."
He closed his eyes, thinking about how poorly things were going on that front. The werewolves, goblins and giants were all till neutral, but the Death Eaters had already recruited the vampires and several troll clans, and they had agents working on both the werewolves and the giants. With each passing day, it seemed more and more likely that the two groups would be fighting under the banner of the Dark Lord in the coming fight. This wasn't even mentioning the countless spies that the Death Eaters had placed in the Ministry.
And even more disturbing to the Headmaster was the news that came to him from his spy, Severus Snape. Voldemort was somehow calling on extremely dark creatures and binding them to his will; Hollows.
Little was known about these creatures. Their size, shape and power varied from monster to monster, but they were easy enough to spot by the plaster white masks and the dark presence that followed them. They also knew what they ate; souls.
The ministry classified them as 'Non-beings' as they were said to be formed from lingering spirits who were consumed by negative energy. Their thick skins made them resistant to most jinxs and hexs, though stronger curses and charms were found to be effective in either damaging them or driving them off.
With the Ministry refusing to see the coming threat, it was being allowed to grow larger and larger. Soon the storm would hit them full force. It was only a matter of time. How was he supposed to find allies, when it seemed the world was content to just let itself die?
Fawkes bristled underneath Dumbledore's touch. "What is the matt..." Dumbledore started as he opened his eyes to look to the bird, but his tongue went slack as he saw a man sitting in the guest seat across from his desk.
"Good evening, Albus Dumbledore. I was wondering if I could have a small word with you?" The man said. His hair was a shining silver color and his skin was pale as a ghost. A large grin filled his face as his eyes seemed to be completely closed. He was dressed in a odd black tonic like uniform with a white coat over it. Dumbledore's eyes went to a short sword on the man's waist.
Dumbledore quickly adjusted, letting his unassuming smile spread across his features even as his mind raced. 'How had this man gotten into his office?'
"Sorry I didn't make myself known sooner. I was here went you came in, but I decided to watch you for a bit. Hope you don't mind?" The man said with a tilt of his head.
Dumbledore didn't react. Was that true? Had the man been in his office the entire time and he had just not noticed? "That is quite alright, though I do find myself in a bit of a pickle. You know who I am, but I do not believe I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance." Dumbledore said, keeping his cool. He lifted up his small tin of candies. "Lemon drop?"
"Oh, don't mind if I do." The silvered haired individual said as he leaned forward, picking up one of the small candies and popping it into his mouth. Dumbledore was a little miffed that the man didn't open his eyes as he did so. Without the used of eye-contact, legilimency, the act of probing another's mind, was incredibly difficult. "I am Ichimaru Gin, or Gin Ichimaru as your people would say it."
So the man was East Asian. He seemed rather tall for that. Then again, Dumbledore doubted appearance meant much with an individual like this one. His body language was far too controlled for him to really be the mid twenties he appeared to be.
"I'm from an organization that is rather interested in a certain little story you have been spreading around, Dumbledore-san." Gin said his face unchanging as he tilted his head slightly, giving the increased impression that he was smiling. Japanese, Dumbledore recognized the postfix.
"And what story would that be?" Dumbledore inquired. "Hopefully this isn't about the rumor that I am secretly the head singer of the old Night Parade group, because that I am afraid isn't true."
Gin chuckled good naturedly, though it seemed rather hollow to the Headmaster. "No, I am referring to the rumor of a Dark Lord's revival. I believe you call him, Voldemort?"
Dumbledore's face didn't betray his surprise at hearing the man speaking the name without any sign of the usual fear. "Ah, I am afraid that one is true."
"Hm... what sort of evidence do you have towards this effect? And do you know how he accomplished it?" Gin asked simply.
Dumbledore paused. This man was no agent of Voldemort's, but how much was safe to reveal to him. Voldemort knew that Snape was acting as a double agent, though he believed that the potions teacher was truly in his pocket. So revealing that he had a spy would harm no one. "I have a spy in the Dark Lord's inner circle. We are very sure of his return. As to how he was revived, I am afraid I do not know the details."
"Hm... you're lying about that second part." Gin said, shouldn't sure of himself, though he didn't seem to care all that much about the lie. "But I suppose that is to be expected. We can discuss the rest of the information after we terminate this 'Dark Lord'." Gin nodded and straightened up. "I am sorry, I guess I need to explain myself. As I said, I am Gin Ichimaru, though I neglacted to say that I am the Captain of the Third Squad of the Thirteen Court Guards. I'm a Soul Reaper."
"As I guessed." Dumbledore said with a nodded. He had figured ever since he had seen the blade at the man's hip, and his dark clothes underneath the white. Though to hear that he was a Captain confused Dumbledore a little, not knowing much about Soul Reaper societies.
Soul Reapers were considered to be a myth by most. Another Non-being of whom's power rivaled that of the Hollows and who was always at war with the monsters. They were said to be sort of guardians who over saw the balance of souls and reincarnation, under the watching and leadership of a God they called the 'Spirit King'. They were an army made up of souls that had passed on into the after life. Or so the stories went.
"If you don't mind me asking, how old are you really?" Dumbledore said with a raised eyebrow.
Gin laughed at the way the wizard was keeping his cool. "I'm around two hundred and something. Not really quite sure. Never bothered to keep track in those early years." Gin said.
"I'm jealous." Dumbledore said looking at the man's young body. "What I wouldn't give to have a body like that again. Age has its benefits, but I find that I can't go too long without needing to use the bathroom any more." Dumbledore joked. "So what does a legendary Soul Reaper want from me? Surely it isn't my time to pass on yet."
"No it isn't, but this Voldemort fellow was supposed to have been long gone by now. So we are a little upset to hear that he is back among the living. I have orders to find out if the rumors were true, and if I found that they are, then I was to extend an offer for assistance to your 'Order of the Phoenix'." Gin explained as he reached forward and took another lemon drop.
Dumbledore was shocked still. He couldn't exactly believe his luck. Soul Reapers were the natural enemies of Hollows, and possessed magic and strength that would be invaluable in a war. The legends of the old war between the Soul Reapers and the Witch Hunters, the Quincy, were just that 'legendary'.
"Not that I am going to help you myself. I am far too important. But we will organize a small unit to assist you, Dumbledore-san." Gin clarified. "Now I don't know too much about this Voldemort fellow. So I hope you wouldn't mind telling me, exactly how did he die?"
"Well, that is a story." Dumbledore said, leaning back in his seat. He's uncomfortable shift was hard to notice. It wasn't as though that was a secret, everyone knew. But the thought of what had happened still brought forth the feelings of guilt. "It was thirteen years ago. Voldemort had tried to kill a small girl who was prophecized to be the one who would bring about the Dark Lords down fall. She was only a two year old child, completely defenseless. But when Voldemort had tried to kill the girl, his spell backfired and destroyed him. Or his body at least."
Gin opened his eyes in surprise. Dumbledore saw the bright blue eyes and took his chance, sending a probe into the man's mind. It didn't even last a second. After seeing a short glimpse of a field of tall golden grass, Albus found that his probe had been destroyed. The man's eyes closed again and he smile, though he pretended that nothing had happened. "I see, rather a funny way for the man to die." Gin said with a chuckle.
"I suppose it is." Dumbledore said sadly. "The most powerful Dark Wizard died, and the girl escaped with nothing but a single scar in the shape of a lightning bolt."
Gin froze, his jaw stopping mid chuckle before he smiled even wider. "That is an interesting shape... What happened to this child?"
Dumbledore had to fight down a wince. "She died, eight years ago at the age of seven. Her Aunt and Uncle who hated her for her witch's blood starved her to death." Dumbledore said, feeling as though his stomach was turning. "Her name was... Poppy Potter."
Gin paused for a second, then he burst out into laughter. Dumbledore was surprised by the reaction. "Oh Kami! I can't wait to see Zaraki's face!" The man laughed. He stood up and pulled a long white cloth from underneath his tonic. "I'll see you in a week, down in the dining hall I think. Bring everyone you feel you can trust. I want to see their reactions. I've got a surprise for all of you."
He started to chant rapidly in Japanese before Dumbledore could recover and the cloth started to spin around him faster and faster. Then he vanished into thin air, leaving only a sharp wind behind him and a startled headmaster.
Two of the most skilled liars sit down across from each other.
I don't know why people tend to be unsympathetic towards Dumbledore. People really treated him like shit and he had to deal with the stress of everything being dumped on his shoulders.
I'm finding that this starting in the middle of the story is rather hard to write for, as adding character descriptions doesn't feel natural when the person in the focus of the story already is very familiar with these people. It is easy when you are having meetings to add in the details, but not so much when they are old friends or acquaintances.