DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author Note: Many thanks to Niamh, my beta reader and sounding board. She has good advice and stops me from being too vague. Her own fic, To the Honour of the Mother is well worth reading. You'll find the link in my favourite fics.
It should also be noted, that the idea of a journal 'talking' back to a writer, is of course the original idea of J. K. Rowling.
As promised, this is the make or break chapter. If you're still reading and I hope you are, this is the chapter that will (hopefully) give you some idea as to why these characters were picked, where the fic is going and whilst the ending is still way off in the distance, something to look towards.
You can thank Niamh for Arcanus. He literally leapt out at me when Niamh was pointing out some vague bits.
Albus I
I caressed your soft leather tonight, edged with brass and a premature patina, then opened you and admired the luxurious cream of quality parchment and could not resist the gentle pull to write.
I feel honoured and privileged that you have chosen me a second time within this existence known as a lifetime. Once at the beginning of endless promises, and now towards the end with its unremitting grief and false praise.
I feel humbled, I feel wistful and I also feel very old.
I am aware, if you had not realised, that one of your recipients was worried about your intent. She was bemused and irritated by my reaction, but there is naught to worry about.
She is a splendid choice. I can only hope the other four, myself included, are worthy of such trust.
Twice in one hundred and thirty years to make an appearance is indeed unusual. Before I had the pleasure of your acquaintance in my youth, it had been over two hundred years since your last foray. It leaves me questioning why you would appear so soon after your last visit.
I am not so old to know that such a query is not worthy, but I am curious. You will no doubt let the others in on your secret in your own good time.
I am not so arrogant, as my clock slows, to question your presence as an idle curiosity. You were never idle, were you, Arcanus?
Silly of me to expect a reply when I already know the answer.
Yes.
So you have been listening.
Of course. Were it to have been any other way, I would not have gifted you.
I have something new to learn and no time in which to learn it. Oh, for the appreciation of endless possibilities, the whimsy of knowing the world was not tainted and teetering on the brink of the unknown.
You cannot simplify life, Albus.
Why have you come back now?
Why not?
That is not an answer.
It is the only answer I am prepared to give.
I had forgotten how frustrating you could be.
Thank you.
Can I talk to you, old friend?
I'll take your silence as a yes, if I may?
I am worried. I fear for so many – the weight our decisions, past follies now spiralling out of control. I have become suspicious in my dotage and I detest feeling swamped with emotions that should be devoid, for the time being at least.
I am but one man at the end of my journey; a journey I see many unable to start or continue due to my past mistakes. The optimism of youth has given way to the pessimism of age. I see the evil of Riddle pervading, invading and degrading all that I hold dear – and I am powerless to stop the circle from completing.
I am not worthy of your favour.
I need a conduit – that is you.
Find another more positive on…
You are the only one, Albus. You always were. Your pessimism is disheartening, but underneath your melancholy, I sense you, the real you. That is for you to discover…again.
You always did know how to make me feel like a penitent. Thank you for your trust and by forfeit, your counsel. I need a trusted 'ear'. I do not want to burden Minerva, she who is my soul, my half in the circle you gifted me with in my youth.
She is precious to me.
She is worthy of your trust. You will need her love and counsel. Even you cannot live without love. Your fears are honourable, misguided, but honourable. Had you fallen into the snare of poor choice, I would not have gifted you a second time.
Are the others aware of you?
Naught but one and he was not worthy.
Can you tell me who they are, other than Miss Granger, of course?
He that would see suffering as a curse, not a gift be one.
Love be the second, depravity the third, tenacity the fourth and resilience the fifth. The third was a mistake.
Can the third be gifted again?
Why?
If it would aid us in fighting shadows, I would offer my gift. It is you, old friend, who told me of odd advantages. I sense an odd advantage in depravity.
Will you gift him, for me?
Perhaps…
Arcanus will always be italicised to separate his replies from Albus'.
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