Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or ideas created in the proceeding Harry Potter novels. Anything you don't recognize in this version of events was most likely made up by me. The story was originally written by J.K. Rowling. This disclaimer goes for my entire story. So please don't steal it.
A/N: This is part one of three parts. Don't expect part two any time soon though. I'm about half way through it. Which means, of course, it will probably take twice as long to get the third and final part up. I can tell you now though, part one is Dumbledore's first year at Hogwarts, part two is his seventh, and part three is a mix of the rest. Hope you like it. Please read and review. Reviews will make my day. :)
The Life and Death of a Hero
Part One: Beginnings of a Legend
Rain fell hard on the cottages of Little Hangleton. Two twinkling blue eyes looked dolefully out a window of the cottage that resided on the outskirts of the village. The eagerness that had been in those eyes few hours before, had faded slowly, now looking almost forlorn. The date was August the thirty first, Saturday evening, 1851. A gentle, wizened woman sidled in next to her youngest son, who sat mournfully by the window.
"Come now darling, it won't be that bad. My first day to school, believe it or not, it was snowing," she whispered. The twinkling blue eye's attention was averted.
"Really?" the boy asked incredulously. "Honest to goodness, snowing?" His mother smiled serenely, and nodded. She pushed back her son's blond hair and kissed his forehead, she too looking out the window.
"You're only eleven dear. Mark my words, there will be much worse than a bit of rain to spoil days, so don't let it get you down." She ruffled his hair again, and stood up. "Off to bed Albus. You've got a big day ahead of you; one you'll remember for the rest of your life."
The next day, sun broke out early, just barely showing itself through thick sheets of rain. Albus shivered as he sat up in bed, and rubbed his eyes. It was very chilly in this particular cottage, the precise reason unknown. He pulled his blanket up to his neck, not wanting to get up just yet.
"Up, up, up!" shouted his mother, bustling into the room. She looked out the window. "The sun's up already Albus. You've got to get ready for the train! It leaves at eleven o'clock. Just because you've a big day doesn't mean you're skiving off chores!" Albus' mother had a severe look to her, and a heavy set jaw. His father had died in some freak accident when he was but three years of age, and could only remember his twinkling blue eyes, which people often pointed out that he had inherited. He looked up at his mother, who was filling a pot of water by his night stand.
"Come on, wash up. You haven't got all day." She left the room, as the sizzling of breakfast resounded from the kitchen. Albus pulled his covers tighter around his neck, as an exceptionally chilly draft made it's way through his open bedroom door.
Today was to be his very first day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had been longing to go ever since his brother first started attending. His brother was now a third year at school, and could to fancy little charms, that he so often reminded his younger brother. Aberforth crept into the room, a slight smirk on his dirty face.
"Mum says to wash up," he said.
"Well it doesn't look like you have," Albus retorted.
"That, little bro, has nothing to do with our discussion. Mum said you'd say something like that though. That being the case," he said, a grin spreading across his face as he moved toward the basin of water, "she gave me permission to – dump this on your head!" A dreadful coldness rained on to him. He looked up at Aberforth, who had a conspicuously evil grin on his face now, and he ran out of the room laughing his head off. His mother walked back into the room, staring avidly towards the direction of Aberforth's diminishing footsteps down the hallway. She then snapped her attention back to Albus, who sat on his bed, with a disgruntled expression.
"Oh, what has he done this time? Aberforth! I told him to leave you alone. . . you have enough on your mind to be getting on with." Albus looked at his mother.
"I can take care of myself," he said, the faintest trace of a whine in his tone.
"Of course you can dear. . ." Her attention was obviously elsewhere. She was now attempting to tie her small feather-trimmed hat around her chin, as well as buttoning the front of her pleated dress, which was rather difficult.
"Mum, why are you dressing up? We're only going to King's Cross," Aberforth stated, now back in the room. His mother pretended not to here him.
"Come on now; breakfast's getting cold. Good gracious! Is that the time? You are packed, aren't you Albus?"
The Dumbledore family wasn't very well off. Ever since the death of their beloved father, things had gone quite astray. Money was always an issue, and most of their belongings were secondhand. They were probably the only wizarding family for miles, and the people in the small town of Little Hangleton seemed to suspect there was something odd about that family, and often kept their distance. Their clothes were rather shabby, and in fact, Mrs. Dumbledore's best outfit, which she was now wearing, was actually made out of her mother-in-law's old draperies. But they had just barely managed to scrape the last few galleons on Albus' new school supplies.
"Remember Albus, don't mess with the wrong sort!" Mrs. Dumbledore called after her son, who was now boarding the train, which was but mere seconds from departing the platform of nine and three quarters. "Particularly the Slytherins! Unless of course you become one," she added hastily. "Write me as soon as you've been sorted, and if you're having trouble with homework, or anything else you'd need help with. And Aberforth, do try not to land yourself in detention, will you? I don't want another letter from the school saying you've been sneaking around after hours, or harassing girls, or calling people rude names --" Her voice faded into the distance as the train took speed.
"Come on, let's get a seat Aberforth," urged Albus, tugging on the back of his brother's shirt.
"Not with me you don't, little git. I don't want you embarrassing me in front of my friends."
"I didn't know you had friends," Albus said in an afterthought. It looked as though Aberforth hadn't heard, but he could've sworn the tips of his large floppy ears had turned pink.
Albus hurried along the corridor to find a free compartment. He found one at the very end that was vacant, and sat down, pulling his trunk along behind him. It was nearly as big as he was. He first attempted to put it on the rack, but found that it was far too heavy, and he wasn't even tall enough for that matter. He set his owl's cage down in the seat beside him, and his trunk in the other. His owl, Cygnus, was a snowy white owl, who had never once made a sound, as far as Albus knew. He supposed it was just in her nature, but it did seem a tad odd.
The train sped on. Every so often somebody would walk past Albus' compartment, not looking twice in his direction. Would he be as lucky making friends as Aberforth? Cygnus turned her round auburn eyes on him, and ruffled her feathers. Albus looked deep into her eyes, and his went slowly out of focus. A sudden thud brought him out of his reverie. Someone had just slid open the compartment door. A girl with a pail complexion, dark hair, and a somewhat smug expression walked jauntily in, flanked by four other girls who looked suspiciously like body guards.
"Hello," she said briskly, in the air that she meant no courtesy. "I'm Desdemona Grindelwald. That's Grin–del–vald. I've been going through the train introducing myself to my classmates – or, fellow first years." She consulted a piece of parchment in her right hand. "You must be. . . Albus Dumblydore."
"Oh, hello," Albus said quickly, wiping his hand on his pants before offering it. "And, it's actually Dumbledore."
"I don't really care," the girl replied, a sneer forming on her pointed face as she looked down at his hand, but made no movement to shake it. She was very pretty, but somehow the cold expression overtook that feature. Albus' hand drooped slowly, finally falling back to his side.
"This is Genevieve," she said, tilting her head slightly to the left. "This is Jocelyn," this time to the right. Both these girls had thick arms, and looked as though they were capable of pounding even Aberforth to a pulp. They also looked as though they quite wanted to do just that.
"This is Arabella," she said, as a girl from behind her stepped forward. Her smirk was so distinct, it looked rather foolish. "And this is Jadis," pointing to the last of the five. It looked like these last two were more of her friends, for they were much prettier than the first two that had been introduced. The Genevieve and Jocelyn leered rather stupidly before taking Desdemona's lead in sneering, and finally exiting.
Aberforth was the only other person to come and say hi to Albus, but at least he wasn't coming to make a threat.
"Hey little bro, this is my pal Henry." he gestured towards another third year boy entering the compartment after him.
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," he said, holding out his gloved hand. "Aberforth speaks most highly of you," he said pompously.
"Oh, don't fool yourself Henry," Aberforth said, beginning to laugh. For a few seconds there, Albus actually thought what Henry had said was true. When he looked up, he saw that both boys were laughing now.
"Just kiddin' ickle Albus. You're alright," he said, ruffling his brother's hair. Does everyone have to mess with my hair? Albus thought. He quickly smoothed it back down, and took a bite out of his pork sandwich, which was a little soggy.
"Well, I did come here for a reason, little bro. You see, I, unlike you, have finished my sandwich. And I, unlike you, am a growing young man," he said, now taking on Henry's mockingly pompous tone. (Henry snorted.) "So, I think I'll just be taking that." He made a grab for the sandwich, and was gone just as quickly as he had come, not turning back even at the shouts of indignation coming from his hungry little brother.
By now, it was nightfall, and the stars started to twinkle with delight, knowing that it was their time to shine. The rain had at last come to a cease. Albus pressed his nose against the window, looking longingly into the sky. It was his lifelong dream to become an astronomer.
He was greatly looking forward to the class of this subject, which, luckily, was mandatory at Hogwarts, likewise being offered to first years. The train came to a sudden halt, and the rumbling of hundreds of students could be heard moving along the corridor. Since Albus was in the very last compartment, he decided to wait a few moments before even attempting to make it through the slow-moving crowd.
He quickly changed into his school robes, and sat back down to wait. Many carriages were waiting just outside the platform, carrying students that were coming back to Hogwarts. Aberforth had told Albus that the first years rode in small boats across the lake. He was never sure when to believe him though.
The carriages. . . they were being drawn by strange, obviously magical creatures. They looked vaguely similar to horses, but surely that wasn't what they were? They were skeletal, black, winged creatures, who looked exceptionally eerie in the moonlight.
By now, the distant shuffle of footsteps had died down slightly, so Albus tore his eyes away from the strange creatures, and took hold of Cygnus' cage, and his trunk, and joined the queue that was waiting to get off the Hogwarts Express.
A cold breeze mixed with water stung his face as Albus stepped off the train.
"First years! This way please," came a squeaky little voice. Albus followed it, and was soon being pushed onto a little boat with a few other first years already aboard. Almost the exact second he had stepped on, the boat began to magically row itself across the deep black lake. Mist fogged his vision, but it looked like a great mass loomed ahead. Could this be the castle of Hogwarts? It looked like it was on some kind of island, but if it was, how could it be connected to 'The Forbidden Forest' which Aberforth had once mentioned?
Perhaps it was more of a peninsula. Yes, that would make sense. Albus doubted whether Aberforth even knew what a peninsula was, so it's no wonder he had said it was an island. The question was, how is it that Muggles didn't notice? Where was Hogwarts? Why isn't it on maps? A tap on his shoulder broke his train of thought.
"Hello. Gideon Peak. What's your name?"
"Oh, I'm Albus Dumbledore. Nice to meet you," he added. His mother had always taught him that manners were very important, especially when first meeting someone. Gideon had small beady eyes, a scrunched up nose, and wavy reddish brown hair. A girl at the front of the boat turned around.
"Elizabeth Cartridge," she said kindly, offering her hand. She had white blond hair and a freckly nose.
"I'm Oliver Cromwell," said another boy, who looked like he was already friends with Gideon. A timid looking girl with mousy brown hair, who noticed everyone else was making introductions, looked as though she felt obligated to do the same.
"I'm – I'm Melantha Dippet," she squeaked.
"So, does anyone know what house they'll get sorted into?" Oliver asked. "Well, I guess no one would know for sure, but you probably have a pretty good guess. I think I'll be put in Gryffindor, or else Ravenclaw."
"I hope I'll be put in Ravenclaw," Elizabeth sighed. "Did that prat Grindelwald bother anyone besides me?" she asked curiously.
"Yeah, she seemed rather threatening, don't you think? I have a feeling we haven't heard the last from her," Gideon said. "There's usually a great deal of rivalry between classmates, no matter the house. Years are the only thing to separate."
The boats slowly but surely made their way up to the looming castle. The water rippled as something tore through it. Albus had a faint suspicion that it was the giant squid he had heard about. He shuddered at the thought. First years all around looked fearful, and a tad drowsy from the boat ride. They made their way slowly up the a path leading to the magnificent castle entrance. It was a beautiful sight to at last lay eyes upon.
There were great turrets everywhere above, and through the windows, Albus could just make out what looked like the glow of hundreds of candles. The door creaked open as the man with the squeaky voice lead them on. The Entrance Hall was just to the left, so they were obviously using some sort of side entrance. But from what he could make out, Albus saw that the Entrance Hall was much more significant than even his mother had said. There was a spiral staircase that lead up to many floors above, which had moving staircases. He didn't have much time to linger, for the rest of the first years were already getting ahead of him. There were going down a side corridor that was rather dark.
"Hurry along! This way please!" the little old man said. "Professor Bagnold will take you from here," he said as a very young pretty witch joined them down the corridor.
"Welcome first years, to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. For those of you who know the policies and traditions of this school, forgive me as I give a brief summary to those who don't.
"Now, when you first arrive at Hogwarts, you are sorted into a house. In a few moments, I will lead you into the Great Hall, where such a ceremony will take place. You will then join the other students of that house, and you will be somewhat of a team, or a family. For your good doings, you will earn house points, for any faults, or misdoings, you will lose house points.
She pointed to four hourglasses by the wall behind her, each filled with differently colored jewels.
"The houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. I'm sure where ever you end up, you will make your house proud. You will have many teachers, all of which you will refer to as 'Professor.' In your third year, you will be able to choose an elective class. In the proceeding years though, you will be taking Potions, Transfiguration, Herbology, Astronomy, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and History of Magic. Any questions?"
Albus tentatively raised his hand.
"Yes?"
"Um, could you tell me who – who teaches Astronomy?" he queried. Professor Bagnold smiled.
"That would be myself. Do you have a particular interest?" Albus nodded shyly.
"Alright then. Follow me," she said, addressing them all again. They marched into the Great Hall, which was by all means, much more magnificent then the Entrance Hall, all peering fearfully over their shoulders, and looking at the eagerly waiting hundreds of students sitting at four long tables, each distinguished by a differently colored table-runner.
"Now when I call your name, you will come up here, sit on the stool, and I will place the sorting hat on you head. Once you have been sorted, you will then join your classmates at the appropriate table."
What next happened made Albus start. The hat sitting on the stool for which Professor Bagnold had gestured towards ripped in the middle. The seam that was tearing broke into a sort of mouth. And then it began to sing!
"Welcome students
New or returning.
I have a story
To increase your learning.
Back to the beginning
Of the school we go,
For a lesson in history;
Don't say no!
It started with an idea
Of teaching magic,
To children like you
Who so often wreak havoc.
Four friends had an idea
To share what they knew.
To start a school,
And forever it should grow.
Through the generations
Their knowledge should spread,
So in the near future
You could teach instead!
Don't skimp on the homework,
The essays or the reading,
So one day you could teach
Astronomy, Potions,
Or even Game Keeping!
Set me atop your head
Snug and tight
So I can decide
Where you'll sleep tonight!
It need not matter
To which house you go.
But on your tests
Try and get an O!"
Immense, thunderous applause swept the hall like a hurricane. Before Albus knew it --
"Black, Cassiopeia!" Professor Bagnold said loud and clearly, reading from a scroll of parchment.
"SLYTHERIN!" Thunderous applause.
"Borgin, Jadis!" One of Grindelwald's cronies walked rather sulkily towards the stool.
"SLYTHERIN!" the hat shouted. There were louder cheers coming from a certain table that had a green runner, and Albus suspected this must be the Slytherin table. Alas, that is where Jadis sulked off to.
"Burke, Arabella!"
"SLYTHERIN!"
"Cartridge, Elizabeth!"
"HUFFLEPUFF!" This time the student scurried off to the table on the opposite end of the hall. Albus would have let his mind wander, but he was only one letter away.
"Cromwell, Oliver!" Oliver gave a bored look to Gideon, and sat on the stool, letting the hat fall clear over his face.
"GRYFFINDOR!" Oliver looked quite relieved upon reappearance, and he headed towards the table with the red and gold runner.
"Dippet, Melantha!" The timid looking girl with the mousy hair gave a horrified glance to the other students around her, finally walking towards her fate.
"RAVENCLAW!" the hat roared. Everyone cheered.
"Driscol, Jocelyn!"
"SLYTHERIN!"
"Dumbledore, Albus!" Albus froze in mid thought, even though he wasn't quite sure what he had been thinking about. Somehow he sensed that every eye in the hall was upon him. A ringing formed in his ears. Gideon poked him hard in the back, which sort of woke him up. He walked numb-legged towards the hat, now back on the stool, having just sorted a student. He put it on, and it muffled out all sound from the hall, which made it quite nice. A little, distant voice sounded in his ears, that could be recognized as that of the hat, only Albus was sure he alone could hear it this time.
"Hmm. You're more one for. . . Astronomy, Transfiguration, Legilimency, Alchemy. . . Brilliant mind, very determined, and loyal. You must show that you can achieve your end. . . Ravenclaw? No, no, any house would work. . . How 'bout --"
"GRYFFINDOR!" This voice resounded through out the hall. The hat was pulled off his head, and he suddenly panicked, not knowing which table was Gryffindor's, and noticing just how many people were staring at him. Before announcing the next student, Professor Bagnold pointed towards one of the middle tables, which on second glance, Albus noticed that Aberforth was sitting at. He scurried away, and sat down across from Oliver.
"Grindelwald, Desdemona!" The rude girl from the train walked towards the Sorting Hat and Albus noticed her prideful stature as she sat down. What a prat, he thought. The hat had barely touched the top of her head before --
"SLYTHERIN!" Dreadful applause, more of jeering and hissing broke out at the green and silver table. Many, many more students were sorted, and Albus' stomach rumbled painfully. Only did the sorting get interesting when another one of Grindelwald's cronies sat on the stool. It was the thick-armed Genevieve Smith. What threw everyone for a loop was --
"HUFFLEPUFF!" Genevieve had had her eyes clenched tight, but they suddenly popped open. Many Slytherins booed, and Grindelwald herself looked utterly revolted, her eyes somewhat bulging. Genevieve looked pleadingly at her, but eventually made it to the Hufflepuff table. After the sorting ceremony was complete, in which the house of Slytherin received many more students than the rest, Albus glanced up at the Staff Table, which was at the front of the Great Hall facing the students. Every face was unfamiliar, except for Professor Bagnold, who was smiling at random students. At the very middle of the Staff Table, there was a high backed seat. In it was what looked like the Headmaster, also an unfamiliar face. The man had sleek black hair, a clever look about him, and a pointed beard. There was an elaborate hat placed precariously atop his head, which looked more for decoration rather than whatever else one might want a hat for. He stood up, but no one seemed to notice.
"Ahem," he said. Still, no response whatsoever. This time he conducted a very pronounced cough, almost as if he was choking. Silence swept the hall as everyone's head snapped his direction.
"There now, that wasn't too hard, was it? Well, you should all know the school rules by now, so I don't want to have to repeat them every year. Got it?" A stately looking witch to his left gave him a haughty, almost disapproving look.
"Oh, alright then, why don't you share the rules, shall you?" he asked the witch testily. This looked to be precisely what she wanted. Without any hesitation, she stood up.
"Welcome to another year," she said abruptly. "I am Professor Evelyn Prince, the Potions Mistress. As most of you should know, this is your Headmaster, Professor Phineas Nigellus, who teaches Charms." Albus heard Henry and Aberforth whispering something about a secret society some Ravenclaw had formed, hoping to actually learn some charms, but was trying his hardest not to let his mind wander, especially while a professor was addressing the entire school.
"Would you all kindly welcome aboard several new professors this year," she continued, without changing her raspy intonation, to at least give the impression that this was a question. "We have Professors Millicent Bagnold, of the Astronomy Department, and our new head of Ravenclaw, Tessie Prewett, Herbology, and Armando Dippet, Defense Against the Dark Arts, head of Gryffindor. We also have great honor in welcoming Viscount Abraxas Malfoy and his wife Lady Dounia as the new Healers of the Hospital Wing.
At this, many Slytherins gave tumultuous applause. Perhaps they used to be Slytherins, but Albus didn't want to judge them just for that. After all, he only had a crude idea of what Slytherins were like.
"To all first years, note that the forest on the grounds id forbidden to all pupils. For further rules, please go to Mr. Humphrey Donovan, our Caretaker and Gamekeeper. Let the feast begin!"
Though most students were probably quite accustomed to this, many still gasped as the hundreds of gold plates and goblets magically filled with delicious food and drink. Albus let his concentration falter slightly, and now heard Henry and Aberforth still jabbering away.
". . .from St. Mungo's. They were some of the best Healers there. I don't know why they would want to come to Hogwarts," Henry was saying.
"I bet Professor Nigellus gave them a hefty bribe," said Aberforth. "I heard old Prince telling Slughorn that Nigellus wanted to "freshen up the staff a bit." From what I could tell, she greatly disapproved. She also went into a rant about getting a higher up job, because she spent her summer devising the entire school schedule. I think she wants to take over – soon. She's just waiting for him to die."
Albus ate as much food as he could, until he absolutely couldn't fit in another bite. The food was perfect. It was all warm, and had wonderful new flavors his mother could have never afforded to buy. He didn't even have room for dessert when it came.
"What were you saying earlier about a secret society?" he inquired. Aberforth looked at him, and sighed.
"Well, if you were listening properly, you would already know. I guess I'll have to repeat myself though. James Cromwell, a fifth year Ravenclaw prefect made it up. Rubbish, if you ask me, but let's just say he's made several lady friends out of it. You know Olivia Salisbury?" he asked Henry. "They're going out. Man, I wish I could go out with a girl as pretty as her. She's a fourth year. She's also Seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch team," he said, this time addressing Albus again. "Anyway, James came up with this freak idea to plot against the entire Charms class. His secret society is called Charms Haters Are Really Mucky Slytherins."
"You see, the initials spell out the word Charms," Henry piped up.
"Why is he plotting against the Charms class?" Albus asked curiously.
"Didn't you know? Nigellus, the Headmaster, is the teacher. Another point to Prince. Yeah, so his class is complete rubbish. He's a complete bloke. No one learns anything in that class of his, so I guess Cromwell's got the right idea with his little club, but he uses it as a way to meet girls," Aberforth said. "I think he mentioned something about his brother coming this year, Cromwell, I mean. Though I wouldn't know; I wasn't paying attention."
"Yeah, his brother's Oliver, a Gryffindor," Albus said, only to realize that nobody was listening.
"Hey Aberforth? What did the Sorting Hat say to you?" Aberforth and Henry turned around again.
"Said I was interested in goats, it did. Said I was 'The Inquisitive Type,'" he said reminiscently. "Why?"
"Oh, just wondering. What's Legilimency?" Aberforth looked genuinely perplexed, a look that well suited him.
"It's like mind reading," said Henry, staring at Albus in a different light. "Only, that's what Muggles call it. It's really tricky. You have to take some kind of Ministry approved course or something, either that or snag some books from the Restricted Section of the library. I daresay it wouldn't be too hard, what with Madam Macmillan on the job."
He continued to talk, but for once, Albus wasn't paying attention. Mind reading, he thought. Like, being able to tell when someone's lying. Maybe I will go to the library first chance I get.
Rain had vanished without leaving even the faintest trace. The sun broke out early, shining right into Albus' eyes, even through the bed hangings. He opened his eyes, tore back the hangings, and let his feet fall to the ground. Instead of the icy chill that would have met them had he been at his own house, the floor was pleasantly warm. It was five thirty in the morning, and classes didn't start until eight. Albus usually got up early in order to go star gazing, but he felt like spending the morning leisurely, so he wouldn't be tense for his first class.
He made it down to the Great Hall, where a few teachers were already sitting down to breakfast. This would be a great opportunity to introduce himself, and make a good impression. He walked towards the Staff Table, and found someone to greet. Professor Bagnold was just sitting down.
"Good morning Professor Bagnold. Remember me? I'm Albus Dumbledore."
"Oh, hello Mr. Dumbledore. Correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't you the one interested in Astronomy?"
"Yes, I was. The subject simply fascinates me," Albus replied, glad to able to make a reasonable conversation.
"Well I do hope you're good at it. Then maybe you could persuade your brother to do the same. I received full student descriptions from the previous teacher, and he seems to lack interest," she said, smiling, as she helped herself to some bacon and eggs.
Breakfast was definitely a pleasant affair, in which Albus was able to make small talk with several other students. He was glad that Gideon and Oliver were in Gryffindor, because at least he knew who they were, and they shared a bedroom. There were a few other boys in his dormitory, all of which kept mostly to themselves.
Fifteen minutes before the first period class, Potions, Albus left the library where he had been, and made his way down to the dungeons where the classes were to be. The dungeons were rather dank and chilly, and exceptionally dark. A gathering of students was already waiting outside the door. Apparently, the Gryffindors were to have Potions with the Slytherins, or at least, their scarves were green. Albus was wearing his scarf too, and made a note in his mind never to forget it on days when he had this class.
The dungeon door creaked open, but no one was on the other side. Albus seemed to be the only one that found this peculiar, for the other students simply entered the class room. Everyone chose a desk to sit at, and propped his or her cauldron on it, and let their bags for to the floor with a dull clunk. Professor Prince was sitting behind her desk, watching them all with a smirk spreading across her face. She was most likely in her early forties, and she had short black hair that was slightly greasy. A candle flickering on her desk showed her sharp beetle-like eyes.
"Another year," she said softly, and everything fell deathly silent. "Another year. . . First years are always just a bunch of babbling bumbling baboons. Prove me wrong. I dare you. In fact, I beg of you to prove me wrong." Albus was listening intently, hoping very much to prove this teacher wrong.
"Now, wands away. Potions is an intricate, even delicate subject, that I feel wrong teaching to such dunderheads. So please, do as you're told. The potion can have virtually any effect. I'm here to show you how to use that great power wisely." She swept her eyes across the class, and the last fell on Albus.
"Today we will learn a simple solution enabling the drinker to be prone to a certain attentiveness. No. . . only joking. I wish it were that simple. And I wish I was permitted to give you such a solution. Alas, in real life you won't have a potion to help you correctly make a more complicated one. Of coarse, you wouldn't want me giving you the idea that real life is simple, would you? I daresay it's just as complex as potions, if not more so. This is real life. I don't want you muttering silly incantations. I want you to learn to appreciate the simmering cauldron and it's great power. You can bewitch the mind, and captivate the soul, and even control the senses.
"The solution you will be brewing today is the shrinking solution. Yes, it is highly advanced Mr. Cromwell," she said, looking at Oliver's expression of horrified revulsion. "You do think you can manage, don't you? Well, here are the instructions, let's see how well you follow them." At that, directions for the shrinking solution magically appeared on the chalkboard.
Albus read and reread each line perhaps a dozen times, and the result was that his potion was misting the exact color described in his book which was propped up against his cauldron. Professor Prince looked down her nose at his finished potion, and nodded.
"Can you read Mr. Dumbledore?" she asked sarcastically, scribbling something in cramped handwriting on a clipboard. A few people laughed, including Grindelwald.
"Yes," said Albus politely.
"Well then, perhaps you could read the sub heading of this potion's instructions for me," she said icily. Albus' heart sank.
"Draught of Hellebore," he said resentfully.
"Precisely. This particular shrinking solution is more commonly known as the Draught of Hellebore. And do you know why I asked you to read that line for me?"
"Because I forgot to put Hellebore in my potion," he said, every trace of enthusiasm that had existed at the start of class was now gone.
"Precisely. See me after class Dumbledore." Gideon looked at Albus, who was sitting next to him. He gave a puzzled expression, and resumed work. Grindelwald was still shaking with silent laughter, which Prince took absolutely no notice to.
Class ended after what seemed like an eternity. Albus made his way to the front of the class, as everyone else made for the door after the bell had rung. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Grindelwald and her cronies sitting defiantly in their seats, as if expecting an entertaining show to come on.
"Well Mr. Dumbledore. For extra homework, I suggest you make me a double batch of the Draught of Hellebore, due on Monday. You may make it before class if you wish. I would like a foot of parchment on what precisely you did wrong today, and how you will improve in the future. I will tell you now Mr. Dumbledore, I do not tolerate poor potion-making."
"But Professor," Albus said, unable to stop himself. "The potion looked exactly as it should have. How did you know there was no hellebore? What difference does it make?"
"What difference does it make? My silly boy, do use your common sense! It's the effect of the potion that would differ, whether the appearance does or not!"
"Well then what good would it do to write an essay about what I did wrong?"
"Are you incapable of restraining yourself, or do you take pride in being an insufferable know-it-all?" Albus turned on his heel and left the classroom without a backwards glance. Grindelwald caught up with him before he could get away. She was still laughing with uncontrollable glee at seeing someone humiliated.
"What was that Dumbo? I thought you were supposed to be smart! I can't believe they accepted a Muggle loving fool like you at Hogwarts. I heard what you're like; always spending your time with filthy Muggles and Mudbloods. It's despicable. Seriously, I was accepted at three different schools. See, my Mum went to Beauxbatons, so she wanted me to go there, my dad went to Durmstrang, but he wanted me to go to Akademie Vom Reinen. As a compromise, I came here." She was smirking broadly.
"You should have gone to Durmstrang," Albus said, hoping against hope she would stop following him.
"That's a boys school," said Grindelwald at once.
"Oh, I know." That got rid of her. The look of mingled fury on her face, surprisingly, was not all that settling. Upsetting people didn't give Albus pleasure. And of course, she'd want revenge for that perfect retort of his. Heading to the greenhouses made a considerable distance between them next period, which eased him slightly.
Herbology was much more pleasant then Potions, by far. Potions had been with the Slytherins, and with the Head of Slytherin. Herbology was with the Hufflepuffs, and Head of Hufflepuff. Professor Prewett was very nice, and talked quite a bit. She seemed to already have a favorite student though. Elizabeth Cartridge, apparently, had already proved that she was quite talented in the are of Herbology. Whenever someone did something wrong, such as letting their Mandrake bite them, as Albus had, she would throw a disgusted look in their direction. Albus wasn't sure who, but someone had told them that the work they were doing was quite advanced for their level.
Transfiguration indeed proved to be a strong suit for Albus. In one fell swoop of his wand, a match turned into a full shining hat pin. Professor Horatio Slughorn was a beefy, almost walrus-like man, who took a quick liking to Albus. He was very pleased with himself, but, all the same, he made a mental note that if he ever became a teacher, he would never show the slightest bit of favoritism.
It proved common knowledge that Professor Prince was quite bias towards Gryffindors. She would randomly dock points from them, and practically give them to Slytherin, her own house. The next Potions class, she took twenty points from Albus for not setting his book down on his desk gently. It had caused a dull clunk. Grindelwald, who proved to be a sort of arch rival, looked hysterical at that point.
Astronomy was always Albus' favorite class. The ceiling in the classroom was enchanted so that no matter what time of day, it would block out the sun so you could see it as it would be at night. They studied many constellations the first term, and by the end Albus had memorized all the ones ever mentioned in that class. One of his favorites was Cygnus the swan, which is where he had gotten the name for his owl. The teacher, Professor Bagnold, was Albus' favorite teacher.
Charms was the most ridiculous class. It was taught by the Headmaster. Albus was sure he wasn't the only one who didn't learn anything in there, so he took a stand. Instead of joining James Cromwell's secret society, he simply went to the library and checked out three books a week on the subject, and felt he learned adequate informing to be going on by. He felt ensured that he would do just fine on the end of year exams.
October went by as quickly as it had come, with it bringing chilly weather, and Halloween. The Halloween feast was a highly anticipated event of the school year. There was much talk and excitement going on, and Albus heard that the food on that night was simply ravishing. He couldn't think of anything that could top the Start of Term feast, but then again, he was only a first year.
Professor Armando Dippet seemed a good fit for the Defense Against the Dark Arts job. Early in the year, Albus found out that Melantha Dippet was his daughter. The first class had clearly demonstrated why his daughter was so timid. The dark things she'd seen. . . It was enough to make anyone timid. Albus felt he was doing fairly well in that class, seeing as though most of his grades were Os (outstanding). They were covering all sorts of dark enchantments and creatures in the class. Usually they had to write one essay a week. It wasn't too hard, but it would push them to their limit, which, in Albus' opinion, was just the right amount.
Grindelwald was best to be avoided, at all costs. She was capable of conjuring the nastiest of insults; things you could never even imagine. "Frog spawn" was her default insult, though she usually just called Albus "Dumbo." She could often be heard calling people Mudbloods, and Albus just assumed that the person she was making fun of was Muggle born.
Albus was very persistent with his homework and studies. He felt that if he had been accepted at such a school, like the Sorting Hat had said, he shouldn't take it for granted. This was his opportunity to learn all he could, and he was determined to make the best of it. He was already practicing complicated potions, and highly advanced (N.E.W.T. Level) charms. He found the opportune place to practice these: in a deserted corridor on the seventh floor. Nobody ever went up there, so Albus could leave his bubbling cauldron up there during classes and come back after dinner. He had only ever broken one school rule; during Herbology he snipped a leaf of the plant they were studying, planted it on the perimeter of the Forbidden Forest, and after it grew again, he picked it during the full moon in order to add it as an ingredient to one of his current potions. He didn't feel at all right after doing so, but he was merely getting extra studying in.
"Hey, Dumbo!" a voice rang out one evening. Albus swiveled around. He was on the seventh floor brewing another potion. How could that ape find me up here? Albus thought desperately, trying to figure this out. Grindelwald walked over to him, her eyes darting in all directions, taking in the scene around her.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" she hissed.
"Where are your cronies today, Grindelwald?" Albus asked, hoping she would abandon the subject of this curious scene.
"Now, now. I prefer the term aficionados, don't you? Sounds more. . . dignified. Anyway, what are you doing? Professor Prince was looking for you. She said your essay on the effects of frog spawn, and how your resemblance to it is uncanny, was unsatisfactory, and she was wondering whether you wrote it, or you got some animal to write it for you." Her sneer was quite defined, and she knew it.
"Well, why don't you tell Professor Prince that I was just getting in some extra practice, and that I'm ever so dreadfully sorry she was disappointed in my writing skills. I dare say, I could use a bit of improvement." It took a great deal of courage and patience to say what he just said. Every impulse wanted so badly to curse Grindelwald, but something told him that would not be a good idea. Speaking of which, her expression had changed to a dumbstruck look. She had most likely been expecting him to explode with anger.
Halloween came and went, as did Christmas, and Easter, and everything else. They all blurred together to Albus, because his full intent was on his studies. He was most anxious about approaching exams. He filled out a dozen star charts, in pure anxiety, on the week end proceeding the tests. He felt highly prepared, but still, he had this feeling that if he failed. . . the world would think differently of him.
They exams came and went, just as everything else had. Albus gave a sigh of relief upon completion, proud of himself for making it this far. He had even answered all the extra credit questions offered, and felt confident that he had not only supplied the correct answers, but gave them in full, descriptive detail. It was only the fifth and seventh years that took exams offered by Ministry of Magic officials. Albus couldn't wait till the day when he got to do that.
On the train going home, Albus, again, gave a great sigh of relief. He had successfully made it through his very first year at Hogwarts. He would go home for the summer, and spend time with his mother, but then he would come right back to Hogwarts. He would very much miss it there. It was like his home. He felt very comfortable there. It was a feeling that couldn't be explained.
"Mum! I missed you so much," Albus said as he joined the crowd getting off the train at platform nine and three quarters. He gave her a big hug, and her eyes leaked with happiness.
"I got letters from your teachers Albus. They were all raving about you. Oh darling, I'm so proud!" Aberforths's face broke into a horrified grimace. Apparently, he hadn't known of Albus' secret escapades to the seventh floor corridor.
Albus noticed that his mother's face looked much older, and there was a shock of white in her hair. He gave a puzzled look, but she turned away before he could inquire.
They reached home in Little Hangleton before long, but it didn't really seem like home.
"Hey mum, you look old," Aberforth stated.
"Why thank you Aberforth," she replied testily.
"No, I didn't mean --"
"I know fully well what you meant – you couldn't have made it plainer!" Albus and Aberforth exchanged baffled looks.
"Oh, I'm sorry boys," she sighed. "It's just. . . Ministry officials have been disappearing, and there have been funny people about. I think it's the same lot who. . ." she drifted off, looking in mid air, with a misted expression. Albus knew she was about to say that it had been the same lot that had murdered his father. He had suspected for years that that's what happened. He could always tell when his mother wasn't being entirely truthful.
The summer slipped by quickly. Gideon and Oliver had promised to write, but is was only towards the end of summer did they take up on their promise. Someone else wrote to Albus, but he didn't know who. Whoever it was had put Bubotuber Pus in the envelope, which caused gigantic boils to erupt on Albus' hands. He only knew what it was because he recognized the symptoms, for they had been described in a potion he almost decided to make, only before noticing one of the ingredients was off limits. His mother used a few charms to clean his hands, and wrapped the heavily in bandages. She only asked once who sent it to him, but he answered truthfully, and she believed him. See, that was why he didn't lie. He couldn't bare to break that bondage of truth.
A week before the return trip, the Dumbledore family made a visit to Diagon Alley. They purchased their new school robes, potion ingredients from the Apothecary (a few of which weren't on the school list), and books from Flourish and Blott's.
"Hey mum, is it all right if I head over to Scrivenshafts? I don't need new quills, but I was gonna meet Henry there," Aberforth said. He scurried off, while Albus pressed his nose to store windows, peering longingly at the items on the other side.
"Now honey, is there anything else you need? I really can't afford much more," Mrs. Dumbledore said sadly, looking at her son who looked sadly back at her.
"No. I don't need anything else. Could I just walk around a bit?"
"Sure Albus. Meet me back in the Leaky Cauldron in an hour." Albus walked around for a quarter of an hour, peering in windows as usual, and looking at books. He decided to go back to Flourish and Blott's to get some books that weren't on his reading list. He had saved just enough galleons to buy a book or two. He flipped through the pages of a book titled Legilimency for the Unfogged Mind. It was all about the basics of the subject, including that the base was eye contact. It was dire when determining the difference between truth and lies.
"Interested in Legilimency, are you?" asked one of the employees. I'd go with this one sonny. It covers not only the basics, but it also dabbles in Occlumency, it's brother subject. They intertwine unceasingly." Albus flipped through the pages, and had to admit, it was far more detailed on the art of both subjects.
"Did you get my card?" asked a cold voice hissing in his ear. He looked up, and there was Grindelwald.
"Oh yes. Jolly nice of you to write," Albus replied cheerfully. She looked down, and smirked at his bandaged hands.
"You know, I wanted to talk to you. We really got off to the wrong start. I just want you to know, that I'm in charge. What I say goes. I don't care what you think, or what you try to do about it. You are a filthy Muggle loving fool. I here you've been friendly with that Mudblood Bagnold. You're messing with the wrong sort. If you happen to run in to Peak or Cromwell, best pass the message along. I wouldn't want them running off with the wrong idea about me. That would be most unpleasant. Now, I want you to stop being a perfect little teacher's pet, and lay low. I'm the good one. Got it?"
"You would do best to keep your distance Ms. Grindelwald. I know some magic you couldn't dream of. I wouldn't want you getting the wrong idea of me," Albus said coolly.
"Gryffindors are scum. Things are going to be very different this year, got it Dumbledore?" Grindelwald said, icy venom forming in her eyes.