A/N: Here's some more! Review!
In the library, an eight-year-old with wild auburn hair and cornflower blue eyes crouched over a book, squinting slightly. Albus shifted in the armchair and narrowed his eyes but the letters still seemed a bit blurry. He leant forwards so that the tip of his long nose was almost touching the page, biting his lip.
Father had seen him squinting the other day and had demanded to know what was the matter with him. Albus had come up with some pathetic excuse about being tired and sleep still clogging his eyes. Unfortunately, he knew that the time to tell his parents about how his sight was fading was drawing nearer and nearer, looming up before him like some dark shadow. He could already see Father's disappointment.
Fawkes shifted slightly, moving his talons along the bar of metal that topped the perch that Mr Dumbledore had grudgingly had made for him. He spotted Albus squinting.
"You're going to have to tell your parents sometime," he sniffed, thinking that Albus's reluctance to acknowledge the problem was rather stupid. "Soon you'll be blundering into things."
Albus looked up from his book and sighed in a way that Fawkes thought an eight-year-old had no right to do so. "I don't want to tell them. Father…" His voice drifted away.
Fawkes couldn't help but wince inwardly at that. However irritating Albus could be, no young boy deserved to be cursed with such astuteness. He knew Albus was perfectly aware that his father was not particularly proud of him. It didn't take a genius of an observer to see that Ulfin Dumbledore was not satisfied, but it still caused a pang to realise that Albus was actually aware of it.
Albus thought of the events of previous day. The flush of mortification came back into his cheeks as he remembered it.
Father had come home with a broom. It wasn't a particularly new model and yet when Father had walked in and presented it to Albus, he'd been delighted with it. The thought that this was actually a present from Father - always a rather distant, cold figure - was enough to make him love it.
Father had made him sit on it - and that was when all good feelings had vanished. Albus had gone spinning high up in the air, immobile with terror, and had had to be fetched down with a spell. The look of disappointment on Father's face had been unbearable and Mother's supposedly comforting words about him being too young anyway had fallen flat. And then there'd been that comment Father had made - about Aberforth being very good on his toy broom.
Well, of course, Aberforth, at three years old, would be so much better than Albus even on a toy broom. And Aberforth, as Father remarked at least three times a day, was a more outgoing sort of boy. No, he didn't like learning the alphabet, but of course that was perfectly normal. Even Mother had said that Aberforth was a little more active than Albus had been.
Albus was an affectionate little boy and he would do anything to impress his father. Unfortunately, nothing ever seemed to work.
Fawkes was about to pursue the issue of Albus squinting when Maria Dumbledore arrived in the library, followed closely by Ulfin. He saw Albus's eyes leap to Ulfin immediately before lowering and then passing to his mother.
Mother smiled at Albus and he beamed back. Fawkes saw her eyes take himself in and he suppressed a snort. Maria Dumbledore seemed to relish his existence as proof that Albus was in fact a jewel of humanity.
"Albus," she said warmly. "Tomorrow, you will be going to London."
Albus dropped his book in excitement. London! "Why, Mother?"
"Your father and I are going to meet up with some friends and family of ours and you will come. You will meet your cousins and hopefully make many new friends."
Albus's excitement increased. He had never met any of his cousins and London, from what Father had previously said, sounded large and awe-inspiring. His smile faded slightly at Father's voice.
"You will make a good account of the Dumbledore family, Albus. You are to be polite and courteous, and will show what it means to be a Dumbledore. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal, Father," said Albus obediently, wishing Father would smile.
Albus spent the rest of evening pondering aloud with Fawkes, who became very sick of the idea very quickly. He eventually flew off, leaving the boy nattering to himself, though privately he resolved to accompany Albus.
The morning of the next day passed in a blur for Albus. He was ordered to put on the most expensive dress robes he had and was given a miniature cane to carry. He felt very dignified with it and kept on tapping it on the floor in what he imagined to be an imperious way. He spent several minutes drawing himself up and swirling his cloak around, giving imaginary commands to invisible house-elves. His still nameless not-quite-so-invisible friend, nicknamed Lightning by Albus for the mark on his head, seemed to find it hilarious.
Along with Albus, Lightning had grown with Thom. Albus was quite tall for an eight-year-old and so both of his elusive companions had to look up slightly when he stood up straight. Aware of this, he stooped slightly. Albus was a gangly little boy who had unusually serious eyes and walked with a strange swinging gait due to his rapid growth - the limbs seemed to want to reach further than they could, causing his whole body to rock.
Lightning's scruffy black hair looked scruffier than ever. He was like Albus in that he was thin and pale and seemed slightly undernourished. The clothes he wore were often too big for him, emphasising this. He seemed to flourish and glow with happiness whenever Albus smiled at him - he seemed like a boy who had found little joy in life thus far and so wanted to enjoy what he could.
Thom was as moody and vindictive as ever. His strangely changing eyes were always half-narrowed and he was pale to the point of being anaemic. Auburn hair, a good deal darker than Albus's own, reached the top of his neck with apparent reluctance, thinning over the top. All in all, the trio made a skinny bunch.
"Are you going to come?" asked Albus, addressing Lightning. He had got to the point of trying to ignore Thom's presence.
"No," said Lightning sadly. "You should go and make some more friends - you won't be able to talk to me there."
"No," agreed Albus. Thom sniffed but he ignored him.
Unfortunately, this was all the conversation Albus had the time to have with Lightning, due to the frantic calls of Moopy telling him that it was time to go. In no time at all, Floo powder was being shoved into his hand and he was told to yell the name of some place he'd never even heard of before being shoved into the fireplace.
It seemed that the Floo network was not Albus's natural habitat. He stumbled out of the fireplace at the other end coughing and spluttering. The first thing he saw after opening his streaming eyes was his Father, who was giving him a quelling look. As Mother arrived behind him, Albus hastily brushed himself down and suppressed the coughing and looked around.
They had arrived in some sort of Entrance Hall. The floor was of the finest marble and Albus could see vast double-doors looming over a richly embroidered rug. However, Albus barely noticed the actual setting as he was overwhelmed by the number of people milling around. Like the Dumbledores, they were all dressed in their very best robes; the men dark and regal and the women dripping and jewellery and gauze, seeming like jewels themselves. Albus was immediately struck by the aura of dignity and felt rather nervous. Everyone was talking quietly, in polite, formal voices that made him want to scream. Beyond the small crowd, Albus could see the entrance to a large hall that seemed to be filled with even more people.
He nervously shuffled his feet and subtly placed himself nearer to Mother as Father began talking to a pale wizard with silver-blond hair. Mother had begun to chat to a thin woman with blue eyes and a sharp face. Albus, confused as to what he was meant to be doing, looked around - to see someone watching him.
A boy who looked to be about his age was standing beside the wizard Father was talking to. The boy had the same silver-blond hair that was long in the style of the day and the same cold blue eyes as the woman and was standing in a way that seemed almost as though he'd been posed beforehand. One hand was held lightly on top of a miniature cane and he seemed drawn up slightly, with a poise that was strongly reminiscent of the adult wizards standing nearby. Albus realised belatedly that the boy was shorter than him but this didn't decrease the image of power and dignity standing before him.
The boy's intense blue gaze was met very reluctantly by Albus. There was a moment in which both boys simply stared at each other. Then the boy smiled thinly and stepped forward, holding his hand out.
"Hello. I'm Septimus Tiberius Malfoy."
Albus blinked and clasped the proffered hand and shook it, feeling somehow out of depth. "I'm Albus Percival Wulferic Brian Dumbledore." Something stirred in his memory. "Are we not cousins?"
"Indeed," said Septimus and he seemed cast a shrewd, calculating look over Albus. He nodded at Albus's parents. "Are they your mother and father?"
"Yes," said Albus. He did not know what to say. Luckily, Septimus seemed to have more than enough to say.
"I've been wanting to come to one of these since Father told me about them," he said, twirling his cane in what Albus couldn't help but see as a frighteningly sophisticated gesture. "The last time, I was too young."
"One of what?" asked Albus, feeling like a clueless toddler in the face of such maturity. Septimus gave him an astonished, pitying look.
"By Merlin, don't you know?" he exclaimed. Fawkes, from his perch outside one of the high windows, could tell that the boy had obviously picked this up from his father. "I thought everyone knew! How dreadful. Well," he began in a tone of utmost superiority, "this is the second-largest gathering of purebloods in Britain. No filthy blood here!"
Albus, who still didn't really understand the significance of blood at all, was at a loss as to what to say to this. Obviously, there was some importance to this - hopefully he would understand soon. "Oh…" he said weakly.
At that moment, Father jerked his head at Albus and he realised that everyone seemed to be moving off into the hall. Septimus's parents were also leaving and the two boys followed. As they entered the hall, sweet music met Albus's ears and he spotted a small band of musicians playing in a corner. The hall was filled with chairs and there was a small, makeshift stage up front. People were busy finding seats and Albus found himself steered into a seat beside Septimus, with Father on the other side of him.
The musicians stopped playing as everyone settled and Albus was forced to stop looking around at what seemed a vast multitude of people when he became aware that Septimus's father had gotten up on stage to some applause. Next to him, Septimus was watching his father avidly with apparent pride. Albus looked more closely at Mr Malfoy.
Ulfin Dumbledore's cousin was an immediate hint as to where Septimus had got his poise from. The man had an unmistakeable sense of both presence and taste. One got the feeling that he could have stood there dressed in rags and yet still have commanded respect. Nevertheless, he had a hard face and Albus hoped he would never have to speak to the man.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," he began importantly. "Esteemed colleagues, old friends - may I say how privileged I feel to be apart of the Honourable Society of Walpurgis and to be in such company."
This statement was met by much applause, with especially enthusiastic clapping from Septimus, but Albus didn't see what all the fuss was about. What was the Honourable Society of Walpurgis?
"I am glad to see you all once again and flattered by your support in my bid to be Minister. We will approach the coming election with a staunch faith in traditional values, a remembrance of proud ancestry and a respect for our noble heritage. Let us not be corrupted by this lack of deference for true wizards that is sadly pervading our government. May I quote that wonderful Black family motto 'toujours pur' in this."
There was a cheer from a family of wizards to the far left on the stage and more applause. Mr Malfoy smiled indulgently. Albus didn't understand what was being said but he thought it sounded rather grand. Septimus seemed spellbound.
"My fellow purebloods, let us right this injustice in our system, this growing disregard for old values. Why, it is this very lack of reverence that has led to this dreadful situation today. Will there be no haven for wizards in the future? Let us think of the number of towns which once housed only our blessed kind but now hold all manner of filth - Muggles no less! Our Honourable Society shall not stand for it-"
Albus felt himself getting rather bored. The adults all seemed to be getting rather excited but he couldn't understand what the man was saying and wondered how long it all go on for. Mother and Father both seemed rapt and alert - it did not look as though they would be leaving any time soon.
"-A government infiltrated by the impure wonders at the rise in crime levels when they are surrounded by mud bloods and half-breeds-"
Albus looked around at Septimus. The boy was still gazing at his father with a fierce pride. Albus couldn't help wondering whether the reaction would be any different if his father started gibbering like a ghoul.
"-I would like to thank my good friend and cousin Ulfin Dumbledore for this valuable insight into the faults of the current system-"
There was polite applause all around and Albus's father smiled and waved a hand, as if to say that it had been nothing much at all.
"-And Professor Cassius Lestrange, Hogwarts Headmaster, for his kind donations to-"
Albus's ears pricked up. Mother had told him about Hogwarts, many times. His eyes searched for the headmaster of this fabled school. He found him just as the said headmaster got to his feet and gave an elegant bow to the applause directed at him. Albus stared at him, somehow trying to discern something about the school from the appearance of its headmaster.
Professor Lestrange was a moderately tall man with a pointed nose and lank brown hair. His face was sharp and angular and he was dressed in entirely black robes. The golden Hogwarts seal hung around his neck made him look somewhat like a mayor.
"So - how many years have you been teaching the little scallywags, Cassius?" asked Mr Malfoy jokingly.
Professor Lestrange laughed softly, in a way that Albus didn't really like. "Seven years - right since Phineas Nigellus retired. I like to think I've made an impact."
"Ah yes - oh, my fellow members - we have much to thank Professor Lestrange for, quite apart from donations. Only his concern for the moral life of his students has prevented our children from attending his school with muggle-borns."
There was a shudder that ran round the room and more applause was directed at the headmaster as he sat down. Albus again didn't understand and wished more than ever that he could go home. Eventually, however, all speech-making ended and suddenly everyone was moving outside into the cold, grey morning, down an impressive flight of marble steps.
"Where are we going?" Albus asked Mother as she took Father's arm and went with the crowd.
"To the Illusionartum, Albus," said Mother, not bothering to explain what the Illusionartum was. "Now - get in the carriage with the other children."
Albus realised that a large number of thestral-drawn carriages had arrived and that people were climbing into them. The thestrals were disguised as horses for the journey through the non-wizarding part of London and all the carriages were black and unmarked. One had stopped right in front of him and seemed filled with children his own age. There was a barely perceptible push from behind from Mother and he was thrust into the carriage, the door banging shut behind him. He sat down, to find himself surrounded by cold, curious eyes.
SPOILERS-SPOILERS-SPOILERS -warning, do not go below unless you have read book 6.
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May I say how depressed I was with book 6! I can't believe what Snape did and how my favourite character past away! I refuse to believe he was betrayed! I refuse, I say!