Blurb 2 – Dumbledore's Lament

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore did not make mistakes. Mistakes were things that happened to other people, to the stupid sheep he had been generous enough to volunteer himself to lead. Even Gellert made them, bless him.

He loved the man, don't take him wrong. Otherwise he wouldn't have spared his life and hidden that fact from those who were incapable of forgiveness. Those incapable of comprehending that sometimes, sacrifices were necessary, to ensure a brighter future.

He had never discarded their beliefs. Those beliefs were his foundation, the actions stemming from them the reason he enjoyed the position he currently held. The position at the top.

He held the Minister's ear, tens of thousands of people listened to his tune. Thousands of those, he had held a hand in raising himself.

Yet still, it was not enough. He, the greatest wizard of the century, wanted more. What he wanted, was immortality. Ever since his dear sister Ariana had perished – not a mistake, he repeatedly told himself, not his fault. Maybe one day he'd believe it…

Ever since she had perished, he had become aware of his own mortality. No matter how smart he was, how much he nurtured his power, someday his end would still come.

That was unacceptable.

Who would implement their plans, who uphold the greater good? Even Gellert, the smart and charismatic wizard that he was, a wizard taught by the same teacher as himself, had failed.

No, except for him, there currently was no one. Their ideology must survive, his hard work, his sacrifices could not go to waste.

So, he had to stay alive.

'Even', he lamented, a strange glint in his eyes,' at the cost of a long-time friend and mentor.'

Dumbledore felt regretful at what he was about to do.

So much experience and knowledge would be lost with his friend's passing. Yet once again his wand would not waver. It was for the Greater Good. He could not hesitate. All this would not have been necessary, if just his friend was willing to share… Alas, it may be better this way. Relying on someone else for his own survival would never have sat well with Dumbledore. Nobody had power over HIM, he only had power over others.

He was already close, so very close to his prize.

"What", a voice snapped sharply from behind his back, "do you think you're doing!?"

Dumbledore whirled around in surprise, wand still half-raised to cast the last spell, to unravel the last obstacle between him and the Philosopher's Stone. Between him and wealth and LIFE.

"Nicholas!"

That was the last thing he remembered before waking up on the cold stone floor of his office, bones aching and with the worst headache he had experienced in his life.

So great was Albus Dumbledore's headache that he chose to ignore the sensor chirping at him, telling him of what was probably yet another half-baked attempt at running away from his newest pawn. It wouldn't hurt to wait. It wasn't like he couldn't track the brat. It just meant there'd be a couple more memories to erase. He had become an expert at that, a necessary evil over the years.

No, doing damage control was way more important. Nicholas was his only clue to prolonging his life without great cost. He could not allow the man to distrust him!

No, Albus Dumbledore did not make mistakes.

Yet, the world seemed to disagree.

Author's Note:

And here it is, another little blurb. Our dear Dumbles was caught with his hand in the cookie jar! Whooops~?

There've been a few questions regarding his side of things so I thought, why not show instead of telling, ya know?
Thank you for all the love you've shown to my story, be it through writing reviews, following, adding it to your favs, or recommending it to others. I love all of you and can't express how much it means to me that my brainchild has found so much support.

The answers to recent questions have been updated on my profile. Stay happy and stay safe!

See you next time, my sugarcubes!