Embracing His True Self
Chapter 51
Exhaustion crept up on Albus Dumbledore, it was both physical and mental tiredness. He was quite honestly at his wits end with this damn Daily Prophet reporter who was digging up impossible information on him. Between that and his constant searches for Harry was leaving him with little sleep. When he tried to sleep – with what little hours he managed to set aside for his rest – he found himself unable to sleep. The stress of it all, his mind continued to reel over everything instead of resting. He didn't dare take a Dreamless Sleep, it would have him sleeping for over eight hours and it wasn't time he could afford on sleep.
He was furious with the boy, the damage he was causing and the fact he had deviated from the path he had set him on. If he hadn't been so important to the war effort, he would have already cheerfully wrung his neck. The impudence of the boy, he wanted answers. Why was he going to such great lengths to destroy his reputation? Who was giving him the ideas? The one who had ensured he remained hidden during the summer holidays? The boy didn't know enough about magic to stay hidden from him so successfully.
No he was being manipulated by someone.
The longer the boy remained outside of his sphere of influence the harder it would be to get him back in line. His worst fear is that this unknown enemy was working with the Dark Lord. Slowly converting the boy to the dark side, not that it would work. The boy might not be the smartest Lumos ever cast but he was far from stupid enough to join the wizard who had killed his parents. No, even in the event of his death, Harry wouldn't join the evil wizard, he knew that, he had seen it himself when the boy was eleven without much in the way of loyalty.
Yet why was Harry going out of the way to destroy him? He knew, he knew the boy was responsible for at least one of the articles. He had gone to the Weasley's to see if they had been questioned by anyone with dubious intentions and found that the two youngest Weasley's hadn't left the house. Which left him with only one suspect, Harry, unless he wasn't willingly giving the information up.
For all he knew Harry was captured and being interrogated for any and all information he had. Whether it by an unknown enemy or Voldemort. After all, he knew Voldemort was desperate for the prophecy and would assume the boy would know. Thank Merlin he had never informed the boy, at least he didn't need to worry about that becoming public knowledge.
He had to find the damn reporter, interrogate him, find out whether Harry was doing this willingly or if he had been coerced into it via Veritaserum.
Harry wasn't behind all of them, there was no way he could have gotten the information that had been spread out on the Daily Prophet. Rubbing his tired eyes, he brought the red and gold Gryffindor covers further up his body, as the room grew colder. He was constantly cold these days.
On the bedside table beside his wand lay a vial of Dreamless Sleep.
He could no longer function without rest, he was out of options, he needed to take it lest he wanted to break down completely. His body was just so tired, so worn down, rubbing his eyes tiredly, with shaky hands, vision blurring, he grasped a hold of it, weak and fatigued, he uncorked the vial. Half, he would only take half, hopefully it wouldn't mean he would be asleep for eight hours.
Even his memory was beginning to be affected by the long term lack of sleep.
With a resigned tired sigh, Albus put half the potion into his mouth, corked the vial again and set it aside as he let the potion side down his throat.
Sleep quickly consumed the overworked, stressed out wizard.
If only he knew how Harry Potter was celebrating his just turning sixteen he would have had a heart attack right there and then.
Harry woke up with an insistent pressure in his bladder demanding his attention, groaning in despair, he grumbled in general grouchiness. His head was throbbing, and it was freezing cold, he didn't want to let a foot let alone his entire body out of the duvet he was ensconced in. Yet the increasing pressure on his bladder gave another warning. Cursing in annoyance, he reluctantly got up, sliding his feet into his slippers before making his way to his ensuite's bathroom to vacate his bladder with relief. Non-verbally and without his wand, he cast a spell to tell the time, to find it was six thirty-nine, far too early to be up yet, especially on his birthday.
Sixteen-years-old, it was difficult to believe really, he thought as he washed his hands and padded back through to his bedroom. Once he was at his bedside, he grabbed his wand and flicked it in the direction of the fireplace. There was wood already inside, just waiting to be lit. Lit up it did once the spell hit it, sitting on his bed, glancing at the pillows with a sigh, he could tell he wouldn't get back to sleep. He'd only had four hours of sleep, if that, the last time he remembered checking the time was after one o'clock in the morning.
Shaking his head, wincing at his actions, damn it, his head was throbbing. Standing once more, he wandered over to the trunk and opened it. Rooting through until he found his potion supply, he didn't have a hangover cure, why would he need it after all he wasn't old enough to drink…and truthfully he hadn't cared to drink. If this was how you felt afterwards, he wasn't sure he would be again. Finding the headache reliver, he downed it in one go, sighing in relief at the ache left his head, it no longer felt like a bowling ball.
Throwing the empty vial in the bin beside the bed, he slid into the bed, covering his legs with the duvet as he plucked Remus' – he recognized the writing after all – card and opened it up. Slightly surprised to find vouchers for the apothecary within. Ten galleons, which was a lot when it came to Remus, and he couldn't help but smile in gratitude. It would definitely get used, he spoke quite often about his experimental potions something he and Remus could share since Sirius didn't care much for the art of potions brewing. even less when he realized what the Wolfsbane potion was doing to his partner.
He put the vouchers in his money wallet/coin bag, which still held his winnings from last night inside. Then he put the card on the bedside cabinet, and plucked up Sirius' card and added it to Remus before he grabbed the present and unwrapped it. He had brought them with him after leaving the flat after telling them he wasn't going to be spending his birthday with them. They'd wanted to make sure he had them to open on his birthday. Quirking an eyebrow at the old books, reverently stroking the spine, these were from the Black family library, the Black coat of arms gave it away. It was stamped, presumably magically, on the inside of the front cover and it was a first edition.
One was about potions, the other the Dark Arts…or rather the Dark Arts and defence against them. There was a little note stuck inside of the potions one. It warned him against displaying them, that they were considered dark and people might get the wrong idea. Without Dumbledore…Sirius was truly coming into his own, and Harry felt proud. He was no longer holding a grudge against magic, especially dark magic, or his family. Sirius wouldn't have given him this if he still felt the same way regarding the Black family or the Dark Arts. Then again, Sirius had made an offhand comment about having to know the Dark Arts to truly defend yourself against them. He must have gotten the books that day, and it was probably on his mind.
Although technically, the books were already his, if he wanted to be all official. He was Lord Harry James Potter-Black, Lord of the Black and Potter estates. At least he was assuming so, it depended on whether they had been in the vaults or the library. Sirius was able to go and do anything with the vaults, Harry had made sure of that. He was technically the heir, and would remain so. Unless he had two boys, two male heirs of his own, one would become Lord Potter and the other had the capacity to be Lord Black. Hell, even one kid had the ability to become both but it wasn't strictly done if there were more than one choice available.
He wondered if the library was still present in Grimmauld Place, he hadn't seen any books though, not when he was searching for the Headmaster's portraits of the Black Headmaster, Phineas. So he assumed they'd been removed, just as a precaution, he rather hoped they hadn't been thrown out otherwise he'd be most displeased.
Placing the Dark Arts book to the end of his bed, he sat cross legged and delicately opened the book on potions. He hadn't had as much time as he would have liked to focus on the Metamorphamagus potion. Which wasn't quite there yet, although he was closer than he'd ever come before. The feeling of excitement thrummed through him, making him want to move, to jump to do anything other than sit still. This sort of excitement wasn't new to him anymore, not since he had been freed. Grinning widely, he settled down, breathing evenly and began to lose himself in the book.
Which he stayed immersed in until knocking distracted him.
Harry wished right there and then he hadn't put silencing spells up last night, he wanted to know who was at his door without getting up. Sighing, he placed a piece of paper in the open pages of his book, so that he didn't lose his place as he got up. Absently removing the silencing spell as he went, there would be no music or loud voices to stop him sleeping now after all.
"Barty!" Harry said, a slow grin making its way onto his face, "Sore head?" he asked innocently, if one could call Harry that even without the wicked grin on his face.
"Don't even!" Barty grumbled, pointing at Harry with a twitching eye giving away his annoyance.
"Why haven't you gotten a hangover cure already?" Harry asked amused as he left his door open letting Barty come in as he pleased.
"There's none left," Barty snapped bitterly, everyone had the forethought to get theirs yesterday evening for this exact reason. He hadn't thought about it at all, it was a good job he rather liked House-elves otherwise the damn thing would have been cursed right there and then after telling him they had run out.
Harry cackled in amusement, as he wandered over to his trunk, "It's not a hangover cure but it should help your headache," he informed Barty as he handed over the potion vial.
"Happy Birthday," Barty said, looking a bit more alive and less likely to bite someone's head off for one wrong move. The colour came back to his cheeks and he sighed in relief.
Harry glanced at the cards, assuming that's how Barty had known about it, "Thanks," his theory was shot to hell though, when a card and present was thrust under his nose. Apparently he wasn't completely recovered, Harry thought in amusement as he accepted the gift from an out of sorts Barty.
"A greasy breakfast they say helps hangovers," Harry commented, opening and placing the next card on his stand, feeling warmth surge through him. Normally he only got two, one from Ron and Hermione, now though…now he had Sirius', Remus', Barty's and gifts to go with them. Gifts he actually had a use for, although he never once grudged any gift he received too happy to have anything gifted to him. "I'm guessing everyone will be coming down to breakfast at the same time?" that thought was daunting, there was a lot, lot of people here right now.
"Yes, with so many people here, you can't just ask for it in your bedroom or suite," Barty explained, shrugging his shoulders. His tense muscles beginning to relax, he wasn't fully recovered, he still felt a little queasy but the worst of it was gone. It had to be the muscle relaxant properties in the Headache cure.
"Not even the inner circle?" Harry asked perplexed, he knew they got away with a lot more than the rest of the Death Eaters did. They had proven themselves and thus were given a lot more leeway than normal.
"At an event like this? You're joking aren't you? It would be seen as a sign of disrespect and dissent in the ranks if they didn't come." Barty pointed out as he sat down on the edge of Harry's bed, getting a glimpse of the books he'd just gotten. He then whistled in awe, recognizing them for what they were and what they were worth. Then again, he often forgot what Harry was actually worth himself now, easily done due to the fact he dressed deplorably.
"Yeah, I supposed I didn't think of that," Harry conceded, sitting back in his bed, once again crossing his legs. "What time did you go to sleep last night?" surprised anyone was up yet after last night.
"I'm not sure," Barty admitted, he'd drank his weight in fire Whiskey after Harry had gone to bed. He was no longer on watch duty, to make sure nobody did anything…stupid. He didn't mind, honestly, he would defend Harry from anyone who dared to say anything. Not because of his Lord, but because he had grown to know and respect Harry. He was probably the only one other than his Lord that actually knew Harry best, except Snape of course, but Snape hadn't been around really. He couldn't due to the fact he was on duty at Hogwarts, spying against Dumbledore for their Lord. "I think maybe an hour?" every time he lay down he just felt sick, the only sleep he'd had was bent over the toilet bowl.
Harry shook his head, "You're all nuts," imagine staying up that late, the latest he'd ever stayed up was midnight, and that was to see in his birthday. It was a tradition he hadn't broken, just the place where he stayed had.
"Admit it, you had a good time, you completely thrashed everyone at cards," Barty snorted, not buying Harry's words for a second.
"It was fun," Harry said slowly, "But I doubt I'd do it every night," he conceded, once he had stopped worrying – after his drink – he definitely had fun. Whether that was because he'd been winning or not…he couldn't be sure. He just wasn't a people person, he preferred his own company over loud boisterous company. He put it down to his childhood, but who could really say?
"It will happen eventually, for weeks after we win," Barty declared with self-assurance that they would indeed win the war. How could they not? After all the one they say could have ended it was now on their side, with two such powerful wizards it was a given they'd win.
"Oh goodie," Harry drawled sarcastically, he rather hoped he could miss out on that one.
Barty just smirked at him, reckoning he knew what the teen was thinking.
"What are you going to do today?" Barty asked, it was his birthday and he couldn't even go out anywhere, he was stuck here.
"Actually…I'm going to try and fine tune the potion," Harry stated, carding his hand though his hair, "Maybe Severus will have a few ideas I could use." He was ready to throw his hands up in the air and admit defeat and ask for the assistance he so obviously required. There was no shame in that though, Severus was a Potions Master at the end of the day. They potion worked, sort of, just not right, not the way it was meant to. Maybe he'd never perfect it, which was disheartening, he'd put a lot of thought and effort into it.
"Somehow…I'm not surprised to hear you say that," Barty said wryly, Severus would agree just to get away from everyone else too. They must have the most antisocial wizards he'd ever met in his life. If it let Harry enjoy his birthday who was he to say otherwise at the end of the day? "What did Malfoy say to you, by the way?" he had seen the confrontation, and was very curious. He hadn't wanted to mention it in front of the others out of respect for Lucius.
Harry huffed out a laugh, sounding bitter but amused, "Oh, he's going to find out what I'm up to." Harry said shaking his head, "He thinks I'm a spy, quite honestly…I wonder if the idiot just doesn't realize how powerful Voldemort is…or if he just thinks he's as stupid as him."
Barty groaned, closing his eyes in despair, "And he's supposed to be the smartest of the Slytherins…hell, Merlin help them all, they're going to need it." rubbing his forehead exasperated.
"He is?" Harry asked in surprise, "Are you sure? I would have said that was reserved for either Zabini or Nott," they were the most Ravenclaw like of the entirety of the Slytherin fifth years…soon to be sixth years upon their return to Hogwarts.
"Well, it's just what I've heard, there's no actual proof," Barty conceded, "But you're right, they were hard workers," he would know, he'd taught them for a year, just because they weren't loud or opinionated didn't mean they didn't know their stuff. They just never volunteered to answer questions, Harry was the same actually. He wouldn't have known just what the boy was capable of if not for the work he put into homework and the school work.
"They're the only ones I can actually see myself liking," Harry confessed with a shrug of his shoulders, that's if either actually wanted anything to do with him – and him alone not to further themselves in the ranks – which he would not allow to happen to him.
"They aren't all Slytherins'," Barty pointed out, feeling slightly smug that there were only two out of everyone that Harry would like. Less competition for his time, what could he say? He was possessive of the people he cared about and didn't share well with others, blame his parents for only having him and not giving him a sibling.
"Yeah, I noticed," Harry said wryly, "Don't know much about the Ravenclaws though, I recognized a few but couldn't tell you more than their names. We had a lot of classes with the Slytherins and hardly any with the Ravenclaws."
"Noticed that too," Barty agreed, "They seem to be primarily paired with the Hufflepuff's." they being the Ravenclaws.
"Probably Dumbledore's doing," Harry said with a grimace, "Anything to stir shit up between the Gryffindors and Slytherins,"
"Nothing would surprise me," Barty said, "You going to open it then?" wanting to know what Harry thought of what he got him. His main gift though was down in the dungeons and would be gifted to him later after breakfast. He'd worked hard to make it happen. He was unsure of how Harry would take it though, so he was apprehensive. He was dark yes, but didn't have the same sadistic tendencies he and nearly the entire dark section had. He doubted the teen ever would, although if you did piss him off…Merlin help them since he went father than the rest did to sate his fury.
"You know I didn't need anything right?" Harry said, as he opened the gift, doing as he always did and being careful leaving the wrapping whole. Inside he found a broomstick servicing kit, which he definitely needed, his old wax was going hard, well what was left of it anyway. It was much more expensive than the kit had, also had much more than his other one which was more basic. Under the broomstick serving kit was two books, one brand new on Runes just out a few days ago and another on spell creation and weaving. "Thanks, Barty, this is awesome!" his green eyes showed his gratitude more than his voice did.
Barty felt extremely uncomfortable with the raw unadulterated appreciation and gratefulness for some little gift that wouldn't have had anyone else blinking. How was it he could be so appreciative of silly little gifts? He knew the Dursley's – he refused to call them Harry's family – hadn't given him anything but he'd had friends, surely he had gotten more used to gifts? Then again the Weasley's couldn't afford to live let alone give their son money to buy their friends presents. Hermione though had parents that were well off, so he surely got something of value from her? "I've got you something else…I'll show you it later," he'd find out whether his gift would be appreciated or not.
"You really didn't have to, this is…more than enough," Harry said, "I almost want to just stay here and read…" four new books that were holding his curiosity, he honestly couldn't say which one he actually wanted to read first. Except he had already started one that Sirius had given him.
Barty groaned, "Oh come on! It's your birthday! You only turn sixteen once! At least celebrate a little!"
"I did that last night," Harry pointed out wryly, shaking his head.
"Oh come on!" Barty protested, thank Merlin their Lord at least was going to make sure he left the damn bedroom. "You—" whatever Barty was about to say was interrupted by the appearance of a House-Elf.
"Breakfast is being served, and Masters are to join immediately," the House-Elf did not wait around for a reply, merely disappeared with a pop.
"Looks like we've been summoned," Harry said amused by the way the House-Elf had spoken.
"Do yourself a favour…and dress classy," Barty warned him, everyone else would be. "You'll look well out of place if you put your Muggle attires on."
Harry chuffed in amusement, "I'm not really one for caring," he interjected, but a frown was on his face, "But I think I will…just until this damn shut down is done with."
Barty blinked in astonishment, more surprised than shocked by the fact Harry actually listened to him. He wasn't one to be concerned about the others and what they thought. He wasn't self-conscious so it wasn't that, he didn't embarrass easily either…so why give in? Why was he suddenly listening to him? The perplexity of it followed him, as he murmured out, "I'll wait for you outside," he waited staring at the wall, confused as well, wondering if that's exactly why he'd done it! Just to confuse him! Nothing would surprise him when it came to Harry, he liked screwing with people.
Ten minutes later, a scowling Harry muttered "I feel like a freaking peacock," as he closed his door, always making sure it was closed and locked.
"Because the robes are green and blue?" Barty blinked in confusion.
"Erm, no more along the lines of showing off, it's just so not me," Harry said, explaining as they both made their way towards the Grand hall.
They didn't pass anyone until they had to descend the stairs, where they met a lot of people now they were out of the Dark Lord's private wing. Which nobody could get near, at least not the Dark Lord's room, the wing they left alone probably due to fear of what would happen if they went anywhere near it. Harry was grateful for that, it meant there was less temptation to get into his private quarters.
"Please tell me that Voldemort has ordered every single Daily Prophet on the planet," Harry said, stifling his sniggers as one of the Death Eaters squeaked and slid down a few stairs in shock. He must be a new recruit surely, then again everyone reacted badly to the name.
"You really shouldn't call him that," Barty sighed in exasperation, more used to it than he would like. Hell, even the Dark Lord didn't react when Harry called him Voldemort. The only one who found it amusing the first time they heard it was Fenrir Greyback.
"Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first hundred times." Harry said dryly, as he passed the Death Eaters standing stock still where they'd been when Harry spoke the 'dreaded word'. Honestly, it continued to amaze him the effect saying just one word had on people. He'd been hearing it for six years now, the fear and terror at one word, a name, a name the world would one day fear to speak. Even at what…seventeen years old, maybe eighteen he had been determined and quite correct. "So…papers?" he doubted the dozens upon dozens of people living here right now had diverted their owls here, far too risky.
"I have absolutely no idea, other than the seven that usually come here," Barty shrugged, him, Harry, Voldemort, the Lestranges and Wormtail.
"Everyone is going to want to read it," Harry said with vindictiveness.
Barty just smirked as he opened the door, almost everyone was sitting down, conversing quietly, some rubbing their foreheads in obvious pain. Harry blinked at the sight of two very long tables along with a single smaller one on the platform which had only the inner circle, their families and Voldemort.
"Come on," Barty said, giving Harry a nudge to get him moving, his stomach grumbling heavily as he did so.
Harry nudged him back in retaliation before he began moving, taking his seat right next to Voldemort. From the corner of his eye he noticed Narcissa Malfoy's fingers gripping her sons arm, who was red in the face, looking as if something rotten waving under his nose. Sighing softly, he shook his head, honestly, he didn't want to deal with the drama that came with being around Draco Malfoy. Everything was a conspiracy around him, he wont put up with it though.
Voldemort had given him permission to deal with them however he liked.
He'd better watch out, if he thought for a second the displays at Hogwarts would happen here…he was in for the shock of his life.
Harry would not be tamed by anyone.
"When's the newspaper coming?" Harry asked, turning to face Voldemort, "Please tell me they'll get in?" blatantly ignoring the choking going on around him. Presumably at the way he was talking so casually with Voldemort.
Voldemort glared coldly at those making noises, "It should be here momentarily, the House-elves will bring it." Voldemort informed the teen, he noticed the lack of Muggle clothes again today. Perhaps he should have more people around the manor if it encouraged Harry to dress properly.
"Man, I almost regret not being there to see the look on his face," Harry sighed, looking gutted.
Voldemort's lips twitched, "Indeed," he too would feel bad that he wouldn't see the old man's face.
Everyone listened intently to their conversation, that was until the food came directly after their Lord's words. Everyone immediately began to dig in, despite the food they had consumed yesterday, they were all starving. Still reeling over the way Potter was so casually conversing with their Lord. Those who were familiar with it, watched the scenes with amused twitches of their lips.
Albus Dumbledore woke up blearily to the sound of incessant knocking at his quarters door. Worry bloomed within him, there were only a few people who could disturb him in his living quarters. One of them was his deputy Headmistress and the other his spy. He couldn't get in, he didn't trust his spy that much, only with Harry's life and that was solely because of the Vow. He would never have accepted the wizard without it, would have preferred having him put in Azkaban before trusting the wizard at all.
With the Vow he had his complete trust in all else, except with his life. He trusted nobody when it came to his life or his private life.
Still feeling drowsy, which was rapidly fading due to the worry wheedling into his gut. He slid out of bed, waving his wand and was swiftly dressed as he stepped into his footwear. One more spell had his hair and beard brushed and in place, and his wand was pocketed as he moved quickly out of his bedroom to answer his door.
He was only slightly surprised to see that it was Minerva making the racket, she was rarely one to panic, "Minerva? What is the matter?" she not only was panicking but it was showing on her face, along with distrust, which he had never seen when she was dealing with him. "What's happened?" feeling very worried himself now.
"You should read the newspaper this morning," Minerva said, eyes shadowed, wondering if it was true, she didn't want to think that Albus was capable of such deception. She'd known him for the majority of her life, he'd been her favourite teacher at one point.
Albus closed his eyes, "What has been written now?" he asked, shoulders slumping in defeat.
"Here," Minerva withdrew the paper from her cloak pocket, folded up and handed it to him.
"Thank you, Minerva," Albus sighed, not unfolding it just yet, as he moved down the spiralling staircase and into his office. Taking a seat in his chair, he stared at the folded paper and spoke again, "I honestly wonder what this reporter has against me, and to make matters worse there has been enough truth posted to cast doubts upon my person. I expected things like this from the likes of Skeeters not a reputable reporter such as he." Unable to say his name out of sheer rage and disgust.
Minerva remained silent, joining him in sitting down, opposite him. She honestly didn't know what to think anymore, she felt awful in thinking such bad things about Albus, especially in case he was innocent. Yet, the evidence spoke very heavily to the contrary and Albus' secretiveness did not help matters. She hadn't known about anything other than the vague notion that he had a brother whom he wasn't close to. She'd known nothing about his sister, his mother, his father or even this, his ambitions and the fact he'd concocted it all with Gellert, there was even photos to prove it. To prove they had been close at least, but whether the information was true…she honestly didn't know.
Albus opened the paper, preparing himself for anything that could be on the front. The last thing he ever expected to see was a younger version of himself standing with Gellert Grindelwald looking extremely close, too close for any other explanation than a relationship to be deduced. Any and all colour Albus had gained from a night of restful sleep faded completely leaving him with a ashen complexion.
'Grindelwald Manipulated? Albus Dumbledore the true Mastermind behind the war?
"Is it true, Albus?" Minerva asked, watching his reactions closely and feeling her heart sink, this…this could be nothing but the truth surely, given his responses thus far. Was this why Albus had not wished to face Grindelwald? She knew he hadn't wanted to face him, instead sending Newt to constantly track his whereabouts.
Albus could say or do nothing for fear of his reaction, he remained frozen in his seat.
"Albus?" Minerva's voice became curt.
Still nothing from the Headmaster.
"Oh, Albus," Minerva whispered, taking his silence for what it truly was – confirmation. "What did you do?" she had suspected this was quite correct, at least part of it. He would have reacted differently if some of it was untrue, surely? To have absolutely no comeback did not look good for him.
As a student from Durmstrang Institute, Grindelwald was expelled for twisted, dark experiments and near-fatal attacks on his fellow students.
He later fostered more than just friendship with Albus Dumbledore, making plans to lead a Wizarding revolution to end the International Statute of Secrecy, creating a benevolent global hierarchical order led by wise and powerful witches and wizards that dominated Muggles. Their partnership supposedly fell apart after the two were involved in a three-way duel with Dumbledore's brother Aberforth that resulted in the death of Dumbledore's sister Ariana. Grindelwald left Britain and proceeding alone with the revolution he and Dumbledore had planned.
Was Albus Dumbledore responsible for Gellert Grindelwald's obsession? After all those we have spoken to from Durmstrang indicate that Grindelwald was a wanderer, someone without any set goals. What if Dumbledore was the one with the plans? The mastermind behind the Wizarding revolution? What if Dumbledore wished on a larger scale overtake his fathers plans to put Muggles in their place?
Albus closed his eyes unable to read any more of it, his entire past was laid bare for everyone to see. From what his father had done, to his and Gellert's ideals, plans and blaming him for everything. They had not found out about Ariana's attack and why his father had done what he did all those years ago. Which made it look as though he had been raised by a fanatic, a pureblood who loathed Muggles.
"Albus?" Minerva retorted once more, anger mingling with concern over Dumbledore's glazed over countenance.
Albus' mind reeled, how had the reporter got this information? There were so few people who could have had this information to give out. His brother and…of course, Bathilda Bagshot the nosy bint. His hands balled into fists as he stared at the paper.
Minerva just stared at Albus, watching a variety of emotions flow through him, which was odd in itself. Albus wasn't one for displaying many emotions if any.
"Please leave, Minerva," Albus said, his voice cold and lifeless.
"Albus?" Minerva questioned, her heart beginning to pound furiously in her chest, for the first time she truly feared him. His magic was beginning to leak from him, she'd always known he was powerful, he had bested Grindelwald in a duel, and he was said to be the darkest wizard of the age surpassed by only Tom Riddle.
"Leave!" Albus demanded, not even contemplating keeping his masks up. Too furious to think straight at the moment, as his world crumbled down around him.
Minerva stood up and abruptly made her way out of the room, refusing to remain there.
The sound of roaring and smashing met her ears as she travelled down the gargoyle, her hands shook as she took trembling breath terrified beyond belief. She honestly didn't know what to do. Did she get the healers from St. Mungo's in or the Aurors? Did she just leave him? What if he harmed the students in a bid to get away? Would the Aurors be coming for him anyway? All she knew right now was that he was dangerous and unhinged in a way she would never thought Albus could be.
For the first time in her career she did not know what to do, she was torn. Between her loyalty to Albus and the loyalty she had to the school.
Does he deserve that loyalty? A whispered condemnation of her inner thoughts betrayed her cynicism.
Unfortunately that decision was being taken out of her hands, as she felt the wards shit emitting several people. She knew, without a single doubt that it was the Minister of Magic and Aurors.
A single glimpse out of the window confirmed her suspicions as she saw the distinctive red colour of Auror robes from the gates of Hogwarts.
They were coming for him.
Minerva felt nothing but relief.
There we go! A New chapter! I wasn't happy with a bit of it so I deleted like four pages! But I'm happy with it now and I hope you all enjoy it...didn't go the way I wanted it to lol I mean Dumbledore being arrested...will he send the rest of his days in Azkaban? Or will Voldemort kill him before he can build hope from even behind bars? What of the Order? Will it disband or will they continue trying to destroy Voldemort and be defeated? With the majority of the world believing that 'Voldemort' and 'Dumbledore' were gone and they had one of peace? With laws and regulations being changed? Or will it always be a darker world than they have gotten used to? Read and Review please!