Saving the Savior
Part Seven
"So we are agreed, Albus?" Tom asked softly as he looked at the old man. Dumbledore was still reeling at all the tales he'd been told, from muggleborns that had not been given an opportunity to thrive and flourish, either in the muggle world or the magical one. They had barely survived the persecution, and it was only through the intervention of Tom Riddle that some of the muggleborns were able to be saved. The pensieve memories taken from the children, and viewed by all, gave bitter testimony to the treatment they'd received, and Tom's files, which were full of reports and receipts, brought home with painful clarity how completely wrong the headmaster had been all the years he'd tried to combine both worlds.
"We are," the old man rasped out sorrowfully. "I…I wish to apologize to you, Tom," Albus continued. "I should have taken you more at your word when you came to my school as a child. I only saw what you had become; not what had made you that way. And, I fear, I have done Harry Potter a great disservice. He tried to tell me of his treatment with his muggle relatives, but, in my arrogance, I believed I knew more about his situation, from the outside, than he did living it. I only wish he were here, so that I could apologize to him, and, perhaps, try and make it up to him somehow."
"I am here, headmaster," a soft, feminine voice spoke into the silence. Looking up, Albus' eyes widened on the girl who stood in the doorway of the headmaster's office. She had stood outside the closed door, listening, and having heard what the old man had said, had decided to take the opportunity to explain things.
"Miss Prince," the old man said with a tremble in his voice. "What a surprise. May I ask why you are here?"
"First, it's Lady Malfoy now," the girl answered quietly. She nodded her appreciation at the old man's words of congratulations. "Secondly, I'm here to talk to you, if I may."
"We are in the middle of an important meeting, young lady," Albus said with a little disapproval. "I am sure that it can wait until we are finished."
"Actually, Albus, she is part of this meeting," Riddle interrupted, smirking at the wide blue eyes that had swung his way. "What she has to tell you is important, and the reason that this war has ended without bloodshed. Please, allow her to speak, so that you may understand."
"Very well. Come have a seat, Lady Malfoy, and I will listen to you." Calathea sat in the only available overstuffed gaudily colored chair and took a deep breath. From her first words Dumbledore sat, rendered speechless, blue eyes wide with shock.
"I was born Harry James Potter," she began, eyes on her hands. From there, she explained everything she had experienced, everything she felt, and the impetus behind her decision to surrender in the manner that she had. The only interruption during the long narration was a house elf, who had brought refreshments. It was dusk before she had finished speaking, her voice hoarse and raspy from talking for so long. The silence was thick and uncomfortable as her last words died in the air; no one wanted to speak for a long moment, too afraid of breaking the heavy moment with the wrong words. Finally, blue eyes, sans twinkle, met emerald, and there was a world of sorrow and guilt in their cerulean depths.
"It is my fault that you've had to make the choice you did," the old man finally said in a tired voice. "I only ever wanted you safe and protected. In my arrogance, I thought that your mother's sister would be suitable. After all, she is family. It never occurred to me that she and her husband would treat you so horridly. A lot of that was the assumption that family always supported each other. We do not have a great many issues of child abuse in the wizarding world. Because most families are hard-pressed to have more than one offspring, children are more cherished than anything else in our world."
"That statement, unfortunately, is untrue," Tom interjected gently, with an apologetic smile to the headmaster. "Most Dark families tend to use rather harsh methods to rear their children. There are expectations to be met, and the parents use whatever means they choose to make sure that their children live up to those expectations. It is why squibs are banished from family tapestries, and why they are cast out into the muggle world. Family is all-important to the purebloods, but perfect families are paramount, and they will do whatever they have to in order to ensure that perfection."
"Why is there no record of abuse reported to the Ministry?" Albus asked angrily. "These children need to be protected."
"Like I was protected?" Thea chimed in, her voice hard. "Like Tom was protected? Like Severus was protected? It's all well and good that you want protection for the children now, but for many of us it is far too late. Why did you turn a blind eye to our treatment when we came to you for sanctuary? Why did you not stand up for us the way you stood up for the muggleborns? Why fight so hard for them, and cast us aside?"
"I…I believed that the muggleborns were targeted for disposal," Albus stammered, eyes wide on the furious young woman. "I thought that the rampant discrimination against them needed to be addressed. People needed to know that the muggleborns are just as important to the survival of the wizarding world as the purebloods are."
"Which leaves the halfbloods out in the cold, I suppose," Thea snapped. "I guess you feel the same way that many purebloods felt. Because our magical parents chose to be with muggles or muggleborns, that made halfbloods lower than the slime of a slug. Muggleborns couldn't help it that their muggle parents created a magical child. But a pureblood wizard, rutting with a muggle or a muggleborn, well, that's a grievous sin in everyone's eyes."
"That is not what I meant, child," Albus was quick to retort. "Halfbloods have at least one magical parent to help them learn about the magical world. They don't come into our world with any preconceived notions, nor do they come here with expectations that our world will be just like the muggle world."
"And that's where you're wrong again," Tom rejoined. "Halfbloods, even though they have at least one magical parent, usually end up growing up in the muggle world. It's impossible for a muggle to be able to live in the magical world, and the magical parent will not do anything to upset or harm their muggle spouse. So they live in the muggle world, as muggles, and raise their magical children as muggles. It's only when accidental magic is manifested that the muggle parent finds out the truth about their spouse and child. Six times out of ten, that muggle spouse will either abandon their family, or abuse the magical child, thinking he or she is some sort of demon, or is demonically possessed. Magic is not to be tolerated in their muggle households. Any abnormality would reflect badly on the muggle parent, or bring unwanted, often violent, attention to the family. So the halfbloods end up being abused, neglected, or abandoned."
"I…I was not aware of that," Dumbledore muttered hesitantly. "It was different with my family. My mother was muggleborn, but we lived in villages that were a mix of muggles and magicals. It wasn't until my sister, Ariana, that I realized that muggles were more dangerous than I had believed. When she was attacked for doing magic in the yard, I believed that muggles were in need of some stern handling, to make them more accepting of magicals." At Tom's and Calathea's incredulous looks, the headmaster flushed in embarrassment. "I admit, I was very young and naïve. We lived in a magical/muggle mixed village, with no real issues. It did not occur to me to think that the magical villagers were anything but open with everyone else. When the attack on my sister occurred, I realized then that perhaps muggles weren't quite ready to be exposed to magicals.
"Muggles were still very superstitious when I was young. They allowed those superstitions to cloud their judgment, and branded magicals as demon spawn. I figured, when I got older, that I would be able to somehow change things; to encourage muggles and magicals to get along and live in peace and harmony." Twin snorts of derisive amusement met this statement, and Albus nodded ruefully. "Yes, I was stupid and blind. I went out into the muggle world to explore and watch, thinking that, if I understood them better, perhaps I could change them. It was an eye-opening experience, I must tell you. I was all set to try and encourage them to get along with us, when they couldn't even get along with each other. It was very disheartening to see them treat each other so badly. Since then, I've tried to gradually open our borders, to allow limited access to the magical world. I was hoping that, with the advancing technologies, their minds would be more open to the possibilities of magic."
"It will probably take several thousand years of evolution before muggles will be able to reach the point of acceptance of all differences," Tom said reassuringly. "I am confident that it will happen. Either that, or they'll drive themselves, and by extension us, to extinction. It could actually go either way."
"Thank you, Tom, for that poor attempt at comfort," Albus growled, glaring slightly at the Dark Lord. He then turned his blue eyes to the girl. "I am sorry that my mistake has driven you to this extreme, Ha…my bo…Lady Malfoy. I know that there is no way to make it up to you for all of the abuse you had suffered at the hands of your relatives."
"It wasn't just by my relatives' hands that I was abused, Albus," the girl replied, brushing off the apology as meaningless. When bushy white eyebrows went skyward questioningly, she continued. "I was also abused from the moment I stepped back into the wizarding world." When the headmaster opened his mouth to refute that claim, she held her hand up, eyes hard once again. Dumbledore subsided grudgingly. "If it wasn't that scandal rag that wizarding Great Britain calls a newspaper, raking me and my reputation over the coals almost daily, it was the students, treating me like a god one day and a demon the next. It was the 'challenges' you set for me, to test my mettle. It was the near constant 'training' over the last two years. It was you, treating me as nothing more than a weapon. I had no life. I had no love. I had no peace. I couldn't even breathe without everyone wanting to be all up in my business. Everyone in this world treated me like their own personal property, while you treated me like an expendable soldier. I was never a person to any of you.
"As for my relatives, you knew full well what went on in that house. I told you everything at the end of first year, and again at the end of second, while I begged you to find me somewhere else to live. All you did was pat me on the head and send me back into that hell. So I quit trying to tell anyone. No one wanted to listen to me anyway. Do you know that not one single teacher in this school ever tried to help me? No one ever asked how I was doing, or how I was feeling. But the biggest disappointment was the Triwizard Tournament. You, as my supposed magical guardian, could have stopped me from participating. I was under age. I could not legally agree to a binding magical contract. It had absolutely no bearing on me, because I was not of age. But no. You had plans. You were in touch with everything that went on in the school, through the wards, the portraits, the ghosts, and Fawkes. You knew that there was a Death Eater in the school. That he was the one to put my name in the cup. You needed me in that contest so that Tom could resurrect himself. So that your weapon could do its job.
"So, last term I started to get away from everyone. I found an abandoned classroom that was far enough away from everyone that I could have a little bit of peace. I thought about my life; about what would become of me once I'd done my 'duty' and killed for you. I knew that I would never have any peace or privacy. That my life would become the property of the wizarding world. So I started thinking about my death. I thought more and more about killing myself, and leaving you to clean up the mess you had created in the first place. But then Draco came into the classroom, and I finally found someone with whom I could be myself. I had also been thinking about the prophecy; that mad old hag had pretty much sentenced me to a life in prison, so I was thinking of ways to somehow get by it. When Draco came in, it hit me. If I changed my gender, the prophecy would be cancelled. It wouldn't apply to me anymore, because I wouldn't be a him anymore.
"I wanted a life of my own, and friends that weren't influenced by my 'titles'. I wanted peace and happiness and love; all the things that everyone else gets to have, and takes for granted. I realized that doing this," she waved her hands over herself, "to myself was the only way to get that. I accept that you had a world to 'save', though I would be the one through whom you would accomplish that. I accept that you had a vision of me as your weapon, and nothing more. However, I will never forgive you. You treated me worse than Tom ever treated any of his minions, even when he was at his worst. They always knew what he was thinking and feeling. He never lied to them, or made them believe that he'd cared about them. They knew exactly where they stood with him. They still do. His goals have always been the same, though his method of operation may have been a little fucked up. Everything on Tom's side of the war is open and aboveboard. No subterfuge; no hidden agenda; no pretending."
"I do care about you, Lady Malfoy, as I care about all of my children. You, in your former incarnation, always represented the strength and honor of the wizarding world. You were the shining beacon of the Greater Good. How could I not care about you? In fact, I daresay I cared more for you than any other student here." Albus' head went up, pride gleaming from his eyes. Calathea scowled at the old man.
"You say you cared. But you didn't care enough to see that I was safe and happy during my summers home. You didn't care enough to make sure I had more adequate help for all of the adventures in which I was forced to participate. You didn't care enough to make sure that I didn't have to participate in the Tournament. You didn't care enough to ever ask how I was doing, or if I needed support or help. You didn't care enough to see me as anything more than a means to an end." Angry silence followed Thea's words as everyone glared at everyone else. "Oh, yes, there's one more thing," the girl chirped, a smirk on her face. "I want to know why you felt the need to access my vaults and steal from me."
"Wh-what?" the old man stuttered, eyes wide and frightened. "I never stole from you. How could you even think that?"
"Well, when Severus claimed responsibility for me, and Lucius agreed to the betrothal contract, they were given permission to go into my vaults and request an accounting. Imagine their surprise when they discovered that you had taken a substantial amount of money from me, as well as some of my family heirlooms. What did you need my money for, and why take the heirlooms?"
"I…I needed the money to fund the war effort," Dumbledore finally stammered, eyes on his hands. "I knew Lily and James would not begrudge me the funds necessary to protect the wizarding world. As…as for the heirlooms, I took the ones that I knew were Dark. I did not want the Savior to be tainted with anything Dark. Once the war was ended, you were to be the next leader of the wizarding world, and any taint to your reputation was not to be borne."
"Ah," Thea sighed, saddened anew at the answer. "So, once again, I am a thing to you, with abundant coffers from which to support yourself and your efforts until I can do my job and murder someone for you. It doesn't matter anymore; the goblins have used your accounts and properties to replace what was stolen. I will contact the Malfoy family solicitor and have him post a demand that you return all the heirlooms that you've stolen from me. Since I am no longer the Savior, it doesn't matter what my reputation is." She stood, a look of deep, bitter betrayal on her face. "I'm done here. When I graduate, you will never see me or hear from me again. Do not attempt to approach me in any way, or I will see you in Azkaban for every single thing you've done to me, or put me through. Good day." She left the office, storming through the halls until she reached the Slytherin common room. Once inside, she was surrounded by her friends as Draco tried to calm her.
Back inside the headmaster's office, Tom watched as the old man collapsed into himself, eyes unaccountably sad. "You brought this on yourself," the Dark Lord finally said quietly, watching Dumbledore flinch at the sound of his voice. "You are, perhaps, the most brilliant wizard that the wizarding world has ever seen," he continued softly. "That brilliance comes with a very hefty price. I believe it renders you incapable of seeing things from a perspective not your own. You have wonderful ideas for advancing our world, and I would be honored if you would partner with me and help me to keep our world safe. However, I believe you should retire as headmaster. I do not think, after this, that you should be in any way influencing children."
"Thank you, Tom," the old man husked sorrowfully. "I agree; I have been too intent on having things my way, and have ignored the little things in favor of the big picture. I humbly accept your offer, and believe that Minerva would make an excellent headmistress."
"I don't think so," Riddle replied. "She was one of those who failed to intervene when Thea needed help the most. Especially when Umbridge had control of the school. Were you aware that the entire time that despicable witch was in this school, she was torturing the students? She was especially vicious to Harry Potter. She assigned detentions, and used a blood quill to make them write lines. Harry had, before he became Calathea, a scar across the back of his left hand that read 'I must not tell lies'. For a scar to be that deeply carved that it was legible from several feet away, the torture must've gone on for weeks. Thea told me that she once went to McGonagall, to try and tell her what was going on. The woman refused to listen, and told Thea to 'keep her head down and her mouth shut'.
"What Umbridge did was illegal, on so many levels. Had McGonagall gone to the authorities, that bitch wouldn't have been able to continue her treatment of the students. Had anyone stood up for the students, she would've been incarcerated."
"We couldn't, Tom," Dumbledore replied with a little bit of heat, angry at the other man's slander of one of his oldest and dearest friends. "Cornelius Fudge was still Minister, and he was the one to give that odious woman carte blanche to do whatever she wished. Our hands were tied."
"Codswallop," the Dark Lord snapped, angry for the first time since they started their meeting. "Amelia Bones, Rufus Scrimgeour, or John Dawlish would have arrested her, had but one person reported the abuse and torture. There were far too many purebloods in this school who could've told their parents, who would've gone to the Ministry themselves to press charges. But, because it was your vaunted Savior who was being punished the most, everyone ignored the torture. Hell, I'm sure everyone thought he'd deserved it. He and the other muggleborns and halfbloods that were targeted.
"We're not here to discuss that, however. Umbridge has been dealt with, as has been Fudge. We are here to discuss our partnership, and who will take over the running of the school. I believe Severus Snape should be the next headmaster, and your phoenix agrees. He's rather put out with you at the moment. It seems that he'd tried to warn you of the incidences in the school, revolving around Harry Potter, for years, but you chose to ignore him. Not the wisest course of action. Because you did not heed your familiar's advice, the familiar/wizard bond has weakened until it finally snapped. He is a free phoenix at the moment, and seems more than willing to bond with Severus." Dumbledore turned betrayed eyes to the fiery bird, who lifted his beak in the air, turned on his perch, and lifted his tail in disdain at the former headmaster.
Heaving a heavy sigh, Albus quipped, "I seem to be stepping in it a lot today." A snorted laugh was all the reply he received.
