Chapter 39

When Ego Falls.

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Albus Dumbledore likes to think of himself as a reasonable man. A good man. He does the best he can with what he has, and if sometimes that might mean keeping a secret, then he is willing to justify that necessity.

That being said, Albus Dumbledore is old. Extremely old, and in his long life he has been exposed to things that could redefine evil. Some of them, he had once even called friend.

So when he is told by a relatively unknown girl that the reason she did not bother coming to him with this wealth of information was that she considered him at best negligent and at worst casually cruel to the main character in her fiction? He assumes that the poor girl is delusional, or perhaps has been listening overmuch to the likes of Malfoy, or other supposed 'victims' of the last Death Eater uprising. That she believed that he would stoop to attempting to wipe her memory rather than work with her was, at the time, a slap in his face.

Then they sat him down in front of a Pensieve, and he watched. He saw, for the first time really, just how far he had been willing to go. Was able as he watched this condemnation of his and the wizarding world's existence to empathize entirely too much with the antics of the man on the screen that he can look at in the mirror any time he wishes.

Where she sees casual cruelty, he sees an impressive protection scheme started by the boy's mother and then adapted by him to protect both the child and the only family he had left. The fact that he had chores and slept in a cupboard means nothing to him by themselves. When he was young the chores were far more, and the hardships could be far greater. It is only in the context of the way he is treated, and moreover the differences in the treatment received by him versus his cousin, that it all begins to become clear. He knew that Petunia, his aunt, would not spoil him. He had expected that he would have a hard childhood, as many do. Even convinced himself that a bit of toughening up might serve him well later. But he had not thought that she would revile him as she so obviously does.

Where she sees negligence, he sees an effort to respect the Dursley family not wanting to be exposed to magic, and so staying away. But then, his absence and trust in dear old Mrs. Figg to keep an eye on things was obviously a mistake on multiple fronts. To start with the fact that he trusted an old woman whose only real friends these days were the felines that she bred to keep an eye on him, and to conclude with the reality that he is just now realizing. Something that on reflection is obvious.

He had completely abnegated his own personal responsibility for the problem rather than add it to his own duties as he damn well should have since he had told the Potters that he would do so.

But that is not all. In his rage and grief at the deaths of the Potters, he had been as fooled as anyone when they had made claims that Sirius Black was their secret keeper. He assumes that Lily had cast the spell as while James had the power, detail work like that may have been a bit beyond him. A man of action was James Potter. But to know that it was his own willingness to deny the man a trial at the request of Crouch and Bagnold that had resulted in a horrific miscarriage of justice? One that is even now still being perpetrated on the man?

A man that cares for his charge so much that he'd held on to the tatters of his own mind against a dementor horde for twelve long years and then escaped. Risked everything he had left, the only thing he had left. His life. Just to come to the boy's aid. Then, his own unwillingness to set himself against the minister. To see that worthless, greedy man fall any further into the clutches of Malfoy if he had come out against him openly. Instead of helping as he should have, he would have tried to find a middle ground in which that brave man went from a place that hated him, to a place that he hates? And then trapped him there, rather than using his political power to fix things. He knows, due to his many, many years in politics that it is unlikely it was that simple. There were no doubt reasons he had chosen to act as he did. But from the outside looking in, where rationalizations are far easier to see through? It is difficult, extremely difficult to imagine what those considerations might have been that would have superseded the mental health and well-being of a man that had already sacrificed so much.

That is to say nothing of the Sorcerer's Stone. He had taken it in entirely as a response to a request from a dear friend. A teacher of his, who had been receiving some rather ugly information concerning the safety of his life's work. The fact that Voldemort had chosen Harry's first year to make his move really shouldn't have surprised him.

But it did.

Looked at from the outside, from the memory of viewing of muggle entertainment? It is damning that he would bring the single most valuable artifact on the planet to a school, regardless of Voldemort's disposition towards the last of the Potters.

Over and over again, as he watches the movies, he can understand why the Albus on the screen would have done what he did. And he weeps in frustration, for in the harsh light of day he had made mistakes. So many mistakes.

And the cost of those mistakes, ultimately, had been paid for in the blood of the innocent. The innocent, and then himself.

He exits the Pensieve broken man.

He is alone on the couch when he does so, though he can see that the children have whistled up a bed from this most interesting room and are sleeping not far from him.

The realization that his mind is already trying to find ways to mitigate this, and had in fact kissed the possibility of memory charms to be used upon them while they are sleeping fills him with a shame that he cannot so easily rationalize away now.

Had he truly fallen so far? He shakes his head sadly as he mulls it over. He decides the answer is no, as considering an option by itself is not the same as doing so. But he has gotten a lot closer than he'd have liked and that by itself is enough for him to reconsider everything from here on out.

Pulling his wand and quickly checking the time, he takes a moment to write a short note to the children that they would be excused from classes today and that he would pass it along to their teachers. Also, he requests that they meet him along with Sprout, Flitwick, and McGonagall at his office after dinner that very evening. He shakes his head sadly as he makes his way toward the door.

His deputy head had given him a look of pure loathing when she witnessed the confrontation between himself and Harry in his own office at the end of his fifth year. To dump that on him just after the death of his godfather. To have kept it from him in spite of all he'd been through, all he'd suffered and endured. She had chosen to exit at that time, saying that she would finish it when time and better company allowed.

He isn't convinced he will ever receive forgiveness for that, and while it feels strange to be getting treated thus for something he hasn't yet done and with this knowledge knows he now never will? In his heart, he can't find it in himself to muster a defense. It is easy to see that he was already on that path. Quite far down it, actually. The rationalizations coming so swiftly are ample proof of it.

As the door shuts, the bed that was holding the children, as well as the children themselves, fades from view, and deeper into the warehouse they use for training Mindy and Dave both lower their binoculars. Carefully, so as not to awaken Luna who had passed out hours ago during their vigil on a pile of soft pillows, peeking out through spaces between some carefully placed crates.

After a few minutes, to verify he isn't likely to be coming back, they make their way to the table and read the note.

Mindy looks almost impressed as she reads it.

"Well fuck me. I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks after all."

Dave can only nod as he puts away the Pensieve and the two make their way back to the pillow pile to snuggle in.

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Mindy steps up to the gargoyle that guards the Headmaster's office and gives it a look that could cause King Kong to swear off blondes.

"Did he give either of you the password? My tolerance is pretty low today and I am not willing to pussyfoot around with a pet rock that has delusions of grandeur."

As if in response, the gargoyle nimbly steps to the side, and the three make their way up. Mindy smirking a bit at the animated stone as she passes.

Once they are in the room and settled, Albus takes a moment to offer them all one of his lemon drops. Mindy takes one, though nobody else seems interested. Then he speaks, his voice all but pleading.

"Thank you all for coming. First, I would like to apologize. Not for things I have not and will not be doing. But for the things I have already done, and the mindset that allowed them."

He sighs and looks down at his desk as he sucks on his lemon drop and considers what he needs to say.

"I think that it is safe to say that at least five of you here have had much longer than I have to consider what must be done. If you are willing, I would like to hear your plans. I may be able to help them along. For all my mistakes, past and future it seems, I do still have a significant amount of political clout that could be of assistance. If nothing else, I have seen many things I need to rectify and it would only be playing into the hands of our adversaries were we to be working at cross purposes."

There is silence for a few moments. Then Mindy shrugs.

"You realize that you aren't going to like a lot of this, right?"

Sadly, the old man nods his head.

"Miss McReady it is safe to say that I don't like any of this, full stop. But unfortunately, what a man might wish and the difference between that and what is can only be dealt with by action, not condemnation."

"How can you sound so damn smart when it doesn't fuck 'n matter and be so stupid the rest of the time?" Mindy mutters not quite under her breath.

Dave smacks her shoulder, which is mitigated by a side hug from Luna.

She shakes her head a tad as she orders her thoughts.

"Well, the first thing you need to do is get Sirius Black his damn trial. I've put a lot of thought into it, and if you bring it to Fudge and dress it up like it was a mistake made by you, former minister Bagnold, and that douche-nozzle Crouch? I think he'll go for it. He's stupid and petty enough to equate you three getting mud on your face as being the same as him getting elevated. Besides, if he lets Black out instead of the man escaping and making the ministry look bad, I don't think he'll be nearly as antagonistic about it. Plus, you've got Pettigrew handy so it shouldn't take much to get it done."

Her eyes harden considerably.

"Then once you have Sirius out, there is no damn reason to leave Harry with those shit-sucking Dursleys. Give the poor kid some kind of childhood with what he has left, and get him and his two besties some real combat training. Even with all we end up doing, you know they'll need it. The entire wizarding world is peppered with dumb as a stump fuck-knobs that would be thrilled to kill him and any of his friends if they thought they could get away with it. Your plan right now was to throw the poor bastard to the wolves, and I get it. You were worried about the scar being a problem, even if you didn't know what it was." She pauses and gives him a look. His face falls.

"I... Had my suspicions that it was something of Voldemort's, the magic was a near match for his. But that was really all they were, suspicions. Though I suppose that after seeing the diary worst of them would have been tentatively confirmed."

Mindy nods and continues.

"And I am here to tell you that acting like an asshole for reasons that make you feel good just makes you a delusional asshole."

She sighs.

"Honestly? Once we've destroyed the Horcrux, gotten Potter and his friends trained up, and drop-kicked Pettigrew and the two Crouches through the veil?" At Dumbledore's disgruntled look she rolls her eyes. "Or, you know. If you feel like being a sadistic shit-weasel you could always send them to live with the dementors. Generally, I prefer to pretend I have compassion and keep it quick rather than to just torture people for years until they die drooling all over themselves because their minds have snapped, but hey. You do you." Looking back at him directly and seeing the gobsmacked expression on his face, she continues.

"Anyway, once those fruit loops are dealt with one way or another, you're probably fine to just let Harry live his life. It isn't like any of Riddle's other lackeys were too concerned with bringing his dumb ass back. It took the one that was so scared he'd lived as a rat for twelve years and the one that had been under the imperius curse for thirteen to get it done. The rest of the ones that aren't in Azkaban seemed pretty okay with their new life of not getting nailed with a torture curse anytime their lord got his panties in a wad. They sure as hell weren't looking for him."

Then she rolls her eyes once again. "Besides, if you really want to deal with this and the soul bit is actually in the scar, then cut it off of him and let your healers sort him out. Let him have a big round scar instead of a lightning bolt, pretty sure the kid won't care if it makes the headaches go away."

Dumbledore doesn't look hopeful that would work, but he doesn't voice the complaint now. It is fairly obvious how much pull he has with the room at the moment.

"Anything else on your agenda?"

Mindy laughs. "Honestly, I doubt we'll be able to stay that long. I expect that once we've whittled that cock-bite's chances of getting back into fighting trim down into single-digit percentages, we'll be yanked. There's a few other things we'd like to do, but nothing you need to worry about."

Looking interested, he motions her to continue.

"I don't have to be worried to offer assistance. You have done a great thing for my community and myself personally. It would be only right to return the favor if I can."

Dave rolls his eyes when she looks at him and Mindy picks it up again, though she is looking a bit more disgruntled than before.

"We'd like to get some in-depth study in of Runes and Arithmancy on the off chance it can be useful later. And we haven't made a dime for the last two dimensions and this one cost us a hell of a lot. So we were thinking about taking a stroll through the forbidden forest with a rendering kit and some space-expanded trunks. We don't plan to attack anything. But if Hagrid's eight-legged friends decide we're for dinner it isn't like we shouldn't be able to defend ourselves. That nest is getting way out of control anyway, sooner or later it is going to spill out of the forest, and then you'll have spiders the size of cattle and bigger eating the population from here to London. Aside from those things, training up 'Puffs and the occasional 'Claw that shows. Practice our own skills. But honestly, this is academic anyway. As soon as you've got Pettigrew and Crouch Jr. under wraps I'm betting that we'll be gone."

Albus looks like he is considering something, and then he smiles. It isn't much of a smile, but it couldn't be mistaken for anything else.

"I can ask Vector and Babbling if they would be willing to tutor you on the side. Given the great strides you are making in your other classes, I can only think that they would be willing for a modest fee. I can't order them to do it, but for a few dozen Galleons a month each I would suspect they would be willing to offer their time on Saturday and Sunday. As for your efforts in the forest, I would ask that you steer clear of the centaur community and that you avoid Hagrid while you are about it. He will not understand, but you are right about the Acromantula. Additionally, I believe I can leverage enough to get Sirius a trial, particularly as we do have Pettigrew easily to hand. But how clever is this system of yours that pulls you away?"

Dave speaks up for the first time.

"I don't think it is the system so much as it is the gods that run it, so... Clever but incomprehensible would probably be the way to put it."

Albus nods thoughtfully.

"Well, there is nothing I can do magically to keep you here, given how much I suspect your abilities are tied into all of this I imagine that you wouldn't appreciate it if I were to try. However, I believe I can hold off on collecting Crouch Junior until at least the end of this year if you think the additional time would help your efforts. Frankly, I am very tempted to do it that way regardless. As the head of the department of international magical cooperation, it is most likely Barty senior that swindled that bloodthirsty sham of a tournament back into the school, so having him thrown in Azkaban next summer could be the political boost that I would need to stop that from happening. In the meantime, I am included in the man's wards. I can go over to the Crouch residence and place a tracking charm on the escaped convict. Having to time it when his house-elf leaves to feed the man his lunch will be an irritant, but doable."

He shakes his head at the looks on everyone's faces.

"I know that you don't think much of me. Given what I have seen, I understand why. But please, understand that I am not some evil boogeyman. I'll help when I can. I would ask a favor from you though, for as long as you are here."

Mindy scowls. "What."

Taking a moment to pop another lemon drop in his mouth, he smiles.

"I would ask that if I send three second-year Gryffindors to you for training, you could find it in your hearts to assist them. I suspect that after a few months with you, I can bring in somebody more used to standard teaching methods to continue when you are gone. But the three of them having a leg up working with you could only help them."

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Dave can't help but chuckle at the look on Mindy's face as she reads the mail that was brought to her during breakfast. Granted, he'd received one as well, as well as Luna. But even living here for a few months hasn't gotten him to the levels of general irritation that she can achieve as if by accident and all the damn time when dealing with certain magicals.

"He sent another one?"

Mindy tears it up in irritation.

"Yeah, Slughorn is a persistent sack of crap. No getting around that, what I can't figure out is why the slimy fucker is so set on us. We're only first years, after all."

Dave rolls his eyes and his voice goes to a deadpan state that only needed a mic drop to be worthy of an emo film. "First years that killed a basilisk. I'm guessing that might have something to do with it."

It has been another two weeks, and unknown to them Dumbledore had gone ahead and had the big snake rendered down. Then he gave them a decent-sized expanded trunk with a fair bit of skin and various other bits in jars, another for the school, and sold the rest. He took twenty percent for the school to deal with repair work to the bathrooms, including having specialist curse breakers go through the area below with a fine-tooth comb once he had done a quick inspection himself. Then another twenty to pay for the time that the professionals had spent rendering it down in the first place. After all that he handed them a medal for distinguished services to the school, and the other sixty percent to split between them. In all it came to six hundred thousand Galleons for the three of them, so they gave Luna her two hundred and shoved the rest of it in their inventories. Unfortunately, the jackass had done it at dinner after having the nerve to request they be there. He'd made it seem like there might be trouble, and so of course they showed up.

He's damn lucky Mindy didn't kill him on the spot.

They were planning on hitting the Acromantula during the Christmas holiday. Less chance of some idiot following them out there. If getting rid of Snape had impressed people the students, the photos of the dead Basilisk that somehow made it into the Daily Prophet were the kind of thing that true legends are made of. They know, because every time Lockhart sees them he gets a wild look in his eye like he is desperately trying to talk himself into or out of doing something unbelievably stupid. It makes Dave wonder what the turd would do if he saw a memory of when they killed the Goliath.

Probably crap his pants.

Fortunately, he'll be gone come Christmas. Dumbledore decided that his requirements for employment included getting an exceptional grade on his fifth and seventh-year exams, and offered to set it up for the man. When Lockhart declined, stating that it was unneeded and one would only need to read his published works? Dumbledore explained that the other option he would accept would be to duel the replacement that he had contacted.

The fraud didn't argue after that, though he has taken out a number of advertisements in the Daily Prophet that are dressed up to look like normal articles. They all wax poetically about how he had known they were due for greatness, and it was only his teaching that kept them alive.

He has absolutely no idea how close he is coming to death over this crap. Even Luna is getting irritated, and she puts up with freaking everything. Mindy won't even attend the man's classes anymore for fear of what she might do if he has the audacity to speak to her, and when she stopped going Dave and Luna stopped as well.

Apparently, self-study is becoming popular, because the last he had heard from Flitwick, Lockhart was complaining that his class sizes were cut in half or even less and none of the students will attend his detentions anymore.

Currently, Harry, Ron, and Hermione are showing up for the Monday through Thursday training. Though the intention is to invite them to the RoR for the after-dinner sessions once the holiday break is over. Currently, their skill levels are so low in combat magics that running them through even their lowest setting of training would be worthless as they would likely never make it out of the penalty box for more than a few seconds at a time.

Finally, and despite some trouble getting it done, Sirius Black has been tried and then released while Pettigrew has taken the mans' place in a room warded against the animagus transformation. Unfortunately, rather than offer anything in the way of real compensation to Black the best that Dumbledore was able to manage was eleven years' worth of back pay as an Auror. Not enough by half, but even the old man can't work miracles.

Dave then feels a nudge in his side as Mindy growls at him.

"Incoming slime-ball. I swear, you better talk to him. I am officially at the end of my rope with this shit."

Looking over Dave finds himself groaning. It's Slughorn. Legitimately, he is a fantastic potions teacher and a pleasant enough guy to be around, at least to them. But he likes to get his hooks into his students, trades favor and influence so he can call on them after they've graduated. He is smiling as he walks over, having just finished speaking to Susan Bones.

"I see you got my invitations... Dear me, what happened to yours, Mindy? It's all ripped up."

Dave can hear the teeth grinding and decides he better solve this quickly before the man gets himself killed in front of the breakfast crowd.

"Sorry, Professor. We're busy that day. Can't make it."

Slughorn looks confused when he responds.

"That can't be right. I scheduled it for the last Friday before you students leave for Christmas, specifically to get around the frantic schedule you three maintain. Extra classes in advanced subjects, and first-year students teaching on top of it, extraordinary! A nice feather in your cap in addition to all your other numerous achievements. Why I find it incredibly unlikely that your first monster kill was the largest basilisk ever known, how would you like an opportunity to discuss some of your other conquests to an audience of your peers? There will be free food and drink, of course, the finest. I'll accept nothing less for my guests." He pauses for a moment as he considers his options. "Well, I suppose there isn't anything for it. We'll go ahead and move the time to the next evening when you are done with... Babbling, isn't it? First years in Ancient Runes. You three will go far, mark my words!"

The entire hall at this point is watching with interest. Even the Slytherins, who had gone from upset at the sacking of Snape to downright chilly at the revelation that Slytherin's perfect monster had been slain are openly looking their way. Partly in interest. They're Puffs, and American besides. So they are obviously lesser creatures. But there is always a certain amount of fascination in getting to know powerful people. Besides, if they had killed other things it might be worth the hearing of it. Nobody had yet even gotten a straight answer concerning how the basilisk was killed.

Dave stands up and looks at the man. He's tall for his age and built like a brick. But he's eleven. The intimidation factor that he might have been trying for just doesn't quite make it across to the portly man.

"Professor, we will be busy that day. We will be busy any day you try to move it to. We are here to learn, not to attend your party. We are not now, nor will we ever be interested in your party or any other party. We are not the party type. I am going to ask you right now, for your own benefit, that you leave us alone outside of class."

Slughorn looks about the room and realizes that he is being made to look a fool. Sadly, rather than gracefully back off he decides to double down.

"Not the party type, you say? Well, that just tells me that you've never been to a good party! I say with the utmost sincerity that you three work entirely too hard. Take a day off, live a little! Why I even heard a rumor that there might be another article in the paper about you soon. Surely it would be worth it to show up for one little get-together for a man who knows the reporter in question on a first name basis!"

Finally, the call comes from the Professor's table, as Sprout has seen enough.

"Horace, I believe they have declined. Perhaps you had best let this one go."

The man's smile never falters as his voice is raised to reach their head of house.

"Nonsense, Pomona, I am still waiting for the answer to my most recent query, I have just made an offer that simply can't be refused."

Sprout holds her head in her hands. From being around the dimensional travelers quite a lot over the last few months she can see that Mindy is less than a minute from breaking many things. Most of which will be bones, most likely. Slughorn truly isn't that bad an individual and is a fantastic teacher, always had been. But even a blind person could see where this is going if they knew the duo at all. Finally, she calls out to Dave.

"Mr. Lizewski, if you like I will lodge a formal complaint for harassment. Alternately, I will give you this opportunity to, should you wish, show him the kinds of things you were practicing down at the lake in October. Perhaps that will give the man a better measure of your dedication to your studies."

He glances down to Mindy, who is nodding and sharing a wicked grin with Luna.

He sighs and looks down.

"Professor Slughorn, could I ask you, one last time, to back away and leave us alone?"

The older man smiles. "That was a question, not an answer. Seriously now, it's just a small gathering, surely..."

The entire room feels their jaws drop to the floor as the spot that once held one of the Slayers of Snape and Slytherin's Serpent (and hadn't that gotten old quick...) is suddenly no more. Replacing it is instead the largest horse that they had ever seen. Moreover, it is glowing a vibrant green with phantom flames pouring off of it to a distance of more than a foot. A black coat with a bright green mane and tail. Eyes that glow with a pearly white life of their own are narrowed in irritation.

Slughorn falls back on his butt, cracking his tailbone on the flagstones and wincing in pain as he sees the Lovegood girl shift into a rabbit and with two quick hops to the table and then the back of the horse settles herself in to ride. Followed by McReady, who becomes a falcon that glows a vibrant purple and with a quick flap of her wings settles in next to Lovegood. Then the horse starts plodding forward. Not fast. A slow walk. But the now broken professor is having to practically throw himself out of the way to avoid being stepped on while the three mosey their way out of the great hall.

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Author's note:

Yeah, I know that this was a little bit bashy to Slughorn. I have an intense dislike of people that base friendships on the kinds of things he does.

Sue me.

As for Dumbledore, in this story, he is actually a good guy. No if's or maybes or any other kind of qualifier. Is he perfect? Obviously not. He's made huge mistakes, and trusting him implicitly as Hermione does for much of the series would be a mistake. But that doesn't make him evil, or even by itself incompetent. It just makes him human, and not omniscient. Now, I have bashed the character plenty in other stories, so don't take this as me defending the character against any other way that he is portrayed. But in this story, I decided not to go that route. For a change of pace. :P

Reviews are appreciated, Favorites and Recommendations as well.