"Good Luck Harry," Albus Dumbledore said clicking his cigarette lighter making all the lights over Privet Drive go back on. He stood there; he could see an orange cat on the wall on the yard of 4 Privet Drive. He could just see the bundle of blankets where Harry Potter, a year old baby laid. With a swish of his cloak he disapparated.
He apparated in Hogsmeade and he performed a simple levitating spell to go back to the castle. He was too tired and felt too old to walk back. At the doors to the castle he opened them and the smells and noises of the Great Hall hit him. He looked in at the wonderfully decorated room but he didn't go in. There was a feast going on in there but at this moment he didn't feel much like celebrating. He walked the empty halls to his office, not even noticing when he came to the gargoyle, saying the password and entering. Only when he entered his study did he realize where he was going. He went to the closet and pulled out a stone object he had been using a lot recently. There were strange symbols and things on the sides of it.
He took his wand and stirred the liquid inside of it. He looked in, there was a young man running. He had green robes and he was opening a door to a large house. No one was around it seemed. He opened doors and ran through them leaving them wide open. Dumbledore did something with his wand and he found himself running with the young man in front of him….
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"Hurry… hurry," he urged himself. Once again he felt too old to run fast. He couldn't keep up with the young man in front of him but he didn't even think of his wand this time. The young man in front of him got to a room and he stopped. He let out a gasp. Dumbledore himself entered the room and sighed. "Too late once again." He said out loud but no one heard him. Dumbledore looked around; the wizards that were in the room were now leaving seeing that the young man had come. Only one person remained, another young man, but he looked a few years younger. He had brillant black hair that looked like it was not well kept, it was all over the place. He was tall and as the young man looked at him, he straightened the glasses that he so needed to be able to see.
"Timothy," the young man Dumbledore had followed said. The young man was clean slaven; he had auburn hair and eyes that usually were sparkling; though they were not now. He was tall and very thin. Dumbledore looked at himself, a young 21 year old self.
"Albus," Timothy said.
"I'm… I'm sorry," Albus said looking down at the bed. No one was in the bed though about 5 minutes ago it was occupied.
"I know what she meant to you too," Timothy replied. "She was just my sister, she was your wife."
Albus sighed, "Was she mad?"
"No, she understood," Timothy said. "She knew you would be here if you were in England."
"I came as soon as I could," Albus said wiping a tear away.
"She wanted me to give you this," Timothy said taking out a letter. "She said not to burn or throw it away until you have read it." He gave the letter to Albus who took it shaking.
"I'd better go," Albus said. He looked back at Timothy, "Did they give you a leave from school?"
"Yes, when she got worse they did," Timothy said. "They had a feeling she would want me to be there for her. She loved you a lot."
"I'd better go," Albus said again and went towards the door but Timothy's voice stopped him.
"Look, I know you're older than I am, but I've been through this before. It comes with being a Potter. Don't turn your back on me, and Mary always said, "Always remember those who loved you, and who you loved." Albus don't forget her, don't push her aside in all your work. She would never forget you." Albus left still with the letter tight in his hand.
Outside of the house he started to cry, slowly at first but he couldn't hold it back. "MARY!" He called out. "Don't leave me! I LOVE YOU! Oh god!" He said wiping away the tears.
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Dumbledore reappeared in his office. "God, what a fool I was." His hand took a hold some of his white beard, which was very long, long enough to tuck into his belt. As though talking to it he said, "I never forgot you Mary. You were always with me, right where I could see you." He fingered his beard, he had started to grow it from the moment he found out about his wife's death, and he had never cut it. True a few troublemakers cut it once, he cried a little thinking of that, one of the ringleaders was now dead. James Potter, one of Timothy's grand children had cut it, with his friends.
James Potter, oh god. Why him, that's the second Potter I'd killed. If only he watched out more for James, he should have seen it coming. Why didn't I? And Mary, if only he was there for her. I wasn't even there when she died! I was working! Why didn't I come back? Take time off? Timothy took time off from school to be with her! And I didn't, I was too busy making a name for myself with the Aurors. He looked back at the Pensieve…
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& Albus got home that night, tired and drunk. He tried to drown his feeling in drinks… as drunk as he was he still could feel Mary and he still knew she was dead. He walked clumsily around his house; he had dropped the letter on the kitchen table. For several minutes he was looking for something in his Potions collection… ahhh he found it. He took it out and tried to read it. He stared at it, finally able to read the label, Dreamless Potion. If alcohol didn't do it, this would. He would fall asleep and no dreams would haunt him, nothing about Mary."AHHHHHHHHHHHHH" Albus sat up quickly in bed. "Oh my god!" He said out loud. It was several weeks later and he had been waken up by a dream… a dream about Mary. "Oh my god." He hadn't taken the Dreamless Potion for the last week; he couldn't take it every night. But he was now paying, his dreams were worse, ten times worse than they would have been if he hadn't taken the Potion. He was now paying for his stupid mistakes… "I should never have taken that Potion." He noticed it in the daytime too, he thought of her much more, it so painful. He got up, not able to sleep and he sat down at the kitchen table. He looked at the table where the forgotten letter lay. He still hadn't opened it. He didn't want to. But he promised he would.
"My dearest husband,
I write this as I lay in the childhood bed. I know I'm dying, Timothy has been to see me and he would not leave school unless it was serious. Darling, I am writing this incase I never see you again. I know you work hard and sometimes can't get home. I understand as I have always. But bewared please, you can't always put work in front of everything else. You have to find a balance. You try so hard to be someone, but to me you are everything. Please Albus, if I do die don't work even harder trying to forget me. Remember when we had that fight when we were 6th years, your grades went off the charts you were working trying to forget our argument. You know as I do you are very powerful, wizards fear you Albus. Please don't do anything that's wrong. Don't use your power in the wrong way. Use it to help others. I have heard about powerful wizards going to the Dark side… I don't wish this upon you. Please… never forget me, I would never forget you.
You're loving wife,
Mary"
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Albus looked down at the Penseive and cried. What a fool he had been… what a fool. So stupid… so uncaring. He'd practically ruined his marriage because of work. All because of work he killed the thing he had loved most… Mary Potter. And now James, if only he had looked at James's situation, with his friends. He had a feeling that one of his friends was a Death Eater, but why didn't he look more into it. All the spies he had, why didn't he get one of them to find out. The Penseive caught his eye and he watched it…
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"Professor Dumbledore," a younger professor McGonagall was at his office door.
"Minvera, you can call me Albus," a younger Albus said. He didn't look all that young. His long beard was mostly white as was his hair. He didn't look tired though, as he looked now.
"Of course Pro- Albus," McGonagall said correcting herself. "Well, there are a few boys that need to see you."
"On the first day of school?" Albus asked. Though he had been teaching for a long time, students getting in trouble on the first day. He looked at his watch, 9:00 am. "Show them in."
In came three boys, two of them looking like they had won the Quidditch Cup. They were grinning in a very strange way. Both had black hair and were about the same height. The other boy who looked ashamed had brown hair and was watching the ground as he walked.
"Potter, Black, tell Professor Dumbledore what you did!" McGonagall demanded.
"I'll take care of it now Minvera," Albus said kindly. McGonagall left leaving Albus with the three boys. He looked at one of them, one of the black hair boys. It was a Potter… he looked exactly like Timothy.
"Well boys what did you do?" Albus asked. "I do believe you are 1st years?"
"Yes sir," the boy who he knew was a Potter said.
"Names? I haven't learned all of them yet," Albus asked.
"James Potter."
"Sirius Black."
"He's Remus Lupin," Sirius Black said.
"Ah yes, how could I have forgotten," Albus said. "I talked to you over the summer. Well what did you do?"
"Well, we've heard that the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher doesn't like Gryffindors, so we…" James Potter began.
"We bombed his room! With Dungbombs! An older student showed us the way to his room and we bombed it!" Sirius Black said happily.
"You've been in school for an hour!" Albus said. "Boys, this is my first year as Headmaster, you haven't made it easy." He looked at them. "Detention each, get out of here!" The boys left happily. He sighed, knowing they would be a lot of trouble.
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They would be a lot of trouble, was an understatement, Albus thought looking back at it now. But oh how everyone loved James Potter. They all wanted to be like him, to be as popular. And give him a broomstick… probably the best Chaser since Timothy… no James was better. What a natural. But I suppose as soon as he could walk, Timothy had him on a broom. So much power he had. Though people had said he'd make James Potter look like a Muggle… no the Potters were too powerful. He was so weak, so stupid.
Maybe this time will be different… if I can watch over Harry, make sure he is alright, but could he? He had failed twice now. He knew he would have to try. He couldn't turn his back on Harry he couldn't forget him. I have ten years to work out and prepare for Harry. Ten years until he comes to Hogwarts… if he can survive the Dursleys. It was all about survival, and somehow Albus had been able to… those he had loved had not been so lucky. Why… why him. Why should he be the one to reach 140 years? What was so special about him? He was the only real powerful one in his family? It's the Potters who are powerful; they barely make it to 50 years. "I'll look after him James, I won't fail you this time." He said out loud, only his phoenix Fawks heard him…
Like it? I hope you did! Please r/r! I hope you can read this, there is this new thing on ff.net that you can change the fonts, I think that is why the different fonts I was trying to use didn't work. Oh well.