Albus sat at his desk contemplating recent events. It was roughly two weeks after Voldemort's…defeat (though Albus was certain it wasn't permanent). Two weeks after James and Lily Potter died. Albus was still wrapping his head around it. James and Lily…dead. So young.
Two more victims of his mistakes. How funny that so many people hailed him as the greatest wizard of the age, when he made so many deadly mistakes.
He went about his business mostly the same as usual—he saw no sense in causing his students alarm. But he spent more time than usual in his office, with his pensieve, going over the prophecy over and over again.
Unfortunately the meaning was all too clear, and it wouldn't change if he went over it every day until he died. Voldemort would be back. And Harry, so horribly young, would have to be the one to defeat him. Albus wished that it would be a very long time before that would be forced upon Harry, that he could grow up happily and safe, but he had a feeling that Harry's confrontation with Voldemort would come all too soon.
He heard the typical sound of someone flooing in, and he looked up to the fireplace. He found himself smiling.
"Alastor," he said as greeting. "What brings you here?" Alastor had been busy the last two weeks. Even though Voldemort was gone (for now), the Death Eaters were causing as much mayhem as ever. The more fanatical ones were in a frenzy, attacking anyone and everyone, Muggles, Muggleborns, anyone they saw as an enemy. There had been little order when they had Voldemort to follow, and there was even less now.
That was without even going into the ones who believed they could find him, such as the LeStranges and Barty Crouch Jr. The Longbottoms…Dumbledore figured he could add them to the list of his failures. He should have had them under protection, anyways. Voldemort could have easily sent more Death Eaters to kill their son as a precaution.
And then there were the ones turning themselves in to the ministry, claiming to have been under the imperious curse. Needless to say, the aurors were busy. Why was Alastor here?
Alastor took out a letter, glaring at Albus. "I thought you said Potter was going to be raised by someone that would actually take care of him."
Albus took the letter. He frowned. "Yes."
"Good job."
Albus ignored his friend's sarcasm. "What's the problem? I was sure they had enough room. Do the Dursleys not have enough money? I would be more than willing to set up a fund for them-"
"Merlin's beard, no! Just read the bloody letter, Albus!" Alastor's eye was moving rapidly, as if trying to show its owner's frustration. Albus unfolded the letter (which had already been taken out of its envelope and read, and Albus noticed several signs of detection spells being ran over it. Typical Alastor) and read it slowly, dread growing as he did.
Dear Albus,
Harry
I don't think
Are you sure
I don't know how to put this. You say that Harry has been placed with his relatives, the Dursleys? You do mean, these Dursleys, right? At number 4, Privet Drive? In Surrey? Those Dursley?
Well, first of all, have you ever met
I'm just not sure that these people are the best to take care of Harry.
Albus became even more worried as he read this. Arabella was now the second person to say this…He read on.
However, the bigger issue is that they aren't taking care of him. I don't think they have him at all Albus!
Albus read that again. And again. He looked up to Alastor, his face conveying his shock. "They don't have him?"
"As far as we can tell? No. In fact, we don't think they kept him for a single day. A single day, Albus!" Alastor's eyes rolled, in different directions, mind. It was actually sort of funny, but Albus was too horrified by the letter. "You can skip the rest of the letter. It's most just a list of vocabulary words to use against the next Death Eaters I catch."
Albus leaned towards the desk, and put his head in his hand. He'd never felt so old. And he'd never felt like such a fool…
"The worst sort of Muggles imaginable…"
Why hadn't he listened to Minerva?
He looked over to Alastor. "What am I going to do?"
"Go over to James and Lily's grave, get on your knees and beg for forgiveness. Maybe they won't come back to haunt you. Imagine James coming back…He'd be worse than Peeves." For a moment Alastor was silent, no doubt recalling the many Order meetings in which James goofed off, often pulling everyone else with him. Alastor kept him in line more often than anyone else. He probably missed those times. "No, really, the first thing you can do is contact Remus. He deserves to know. He needs to know. He loves the boy, Albus, and frankly, I was tempted to take the boy and give him to Remus from the beginning."
"The blood wards…" Albus tried to explain half-heartedly.
"Forget the stupid blood wards! Bloody hell, Albus, obviously they didn't work that well if he didn't even make it inside! Who knows who has the boy now? It could be anyone! A drunk, a criminal, some wild animal…A Death Eater could have him."
Merlin, Albus hoped not. He composed himself. He'd made another mistake, yes. But he refused to let it result in another death (or worse). He would find Harry Potter…and then he'd do …something. He stood up.
"I'm going to speak with Lily's sister," he said determinedly. "If she knows anything useful-"
"No, you aren't," Alastor said. "Remus, remember? I am not going to be the one to explain how you lost his friend's son."
Of course. "Of course," Dumbledore responded. "Go round up as many members of the order as you can. This is officially our new goal." He headed to his fireplace, and flooed to where Remus was staying.
Alastor was still in the office. From hunting dark wizards to tracking a lost baby. He wasn't sure which would be more difficult.
"You told me he'd be safe!" came Remus' horrified shout as Dumbledore finished explaining. "You told me…told me…Why the bloody hell would you leave Harry with them? You had to have known James and Lilly weren't on good terms with them! You'd have to have figured there was a good reason why. Why would you…?" Remus shook his head. Another fiasco added to his already miserable life. He'd already been a wreck the last couple weeks, mourning James, Lily, and Peter, figuring out what to think about Sirius' betrayal, and everything else. And then Dumbledore comes along and tells him that he had no bloody clue where Harry was? Was the world trying to drive Remus mad?
"I'm sorry, Remus," Dumbledore said and Remus could tell that it was sincere. Could tell that Dumbledore was also…upset about this new development. Remus wasn't in the mood for it.
"I don't care how bloody sorry you are!" Remus tried to glare at him. It wasn't a very good glare, truth be told. He put his shoes on, and grabbed his jacket. "Where did you say these Dursleys live?"
Albus went into headmaster mode immediately. "Remus, please don't be rash. You've had such a hard time recently, don't make it worse-"
"WORSE? Worse than losing all my friends, and then losing their only son because some senile old man put him with arseholes that didn't even let him in the house?" Remus stopped and glared at Dumbledore again. Much more intimidating. "Again: where. Are. They?"
Dumbledore stared for a moment. Then he sighed, sounding even older than he was. "Number four, Privet Drive. Surrey."
Remus nodded. "I know a place not far from there. I can walk the rest of the way." He apparated away.
Dumbledore was alone with his mistakes.
So...yeah. Not exactly funny like the other chapters, least I didn't think so...
Uh, Dumbledore's not evil in this fic. Sorry. Just a bit of an idiot who defaults to thinking people are good. Sorry if you really, really wanted an evil Dumbledore.
Other than that...how was it?
